The firehouse, p.19
The Firehouse, page 19
I had never heard it put that way. I wasn’t a sports fiend, but I enjoyed watching a game with my friends and having a beer. He was right. I looked up stats, not because I cared, but because I had to prove I was a real fan. Or, I guess, to Connor, a real man.
“I never thought of it that way. I do that shit all the time, too. But that’s the thing, right? You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”
He ignored me. “And what I hated the most was that the better I was, the more friends I had. But I had to suppress my nerdy and artistic side because my new friends bullied the arty nerds.”
I understood what he meant, and I felt bad for him. But he was an adult man. We all had shitty friends as kids. I wanted to talk about how it was time for him to grow up.
“That sucks, Con. But you were just a kid. Your life is your own now. You don’t have to pretend to like sports if you don’t. You don’t have to hide what an amazing artist you are. There are no more bullies as adults. Only jackasses to avoid.”
“There are still bullies, man. And the worst one lives in your own head.”
Damn. Wasn’t that the truth?
Before I could comment, he went on. “My worst high school bully lived in my mirror. I had friends, I was popular, my family was rich as shit, but I was so fucking unhappy, dude. My dad would be proud of me when I did well on the field, but my mom never cared. Then they’d both treat me like a dunce because of my grades. I just kept imagining living a different life when I got to college. I could be with guys, because that was a whole what the fuck as I got older. Developing a crush on your teammate out of nowhere sucks fucking ass, man. So I found art again, and that made me so fucking happy. I just wanted to get the fuck out and do a hard reset on my life once I got there.”
“So what happened? What did your dad say when you came out to him?”
He shifted, the couch creaking under his weight. “He was cool with it at first. He hugged me and told me he loved me. But a minute later, just after I finally took a breath, he said, ‘If you like both, why not just be with a woman? Why make your life harder?’ He said he didn’t care and wanted me to be happy, but I took it for what it was. Connor was fucking up in a different way. He’d tolerate whoever, but would prefer a woman if possible.”
“Do you think it was that way? Or was he just asking?”
“It was that way. At least to me back then. Now, I think they’d be happy if I settled down with any living person.” He chortled. “I took it back. It was fucking stupid of me to say anything when I hadn’t even kissed another guy. I told him I was wrong, that what I thought was me being bi was just a man crush on a celebrity.”
“Your dad is a high-powered lawyer. No way he believed that shit.”
“Oh, he did, or maybe he just wanted to. He told me he was glad he hadn’t told my mom yet. But I was like, you fucker, I had asked him not to tell Mom in the first place. I wanted to tell her myself.”
I had a pretty good idea of how my parents would react to me being with a guy, and it was nothing like that. My dad would just be happy I was with someone, and my mom, who has several close gay friends, would probably be over the moon. I didn’t know how I would react to one of them telling me to just be with a woman instead.
“Fuck, man. Your dad doesn’t come off that way. At least not the few times I met him,” I said.
“He’s not. As I’ve gotten older, I think I realized what he meant. It’ll be easier to have kids and get married and shit with a woman, but that’s not how I took it. And it fucked me for a long ass time.”
“How so?”
“Nah, just like… one of the first things I did after getting to college was set up all new dating profiles. I listed bi because that’s who I am. Got a metric shit ton of old dudes wanting to suck me off, but a lot of girls with pronouns in their profiles said they could never date a bisexual man. Bunch of them still tried to hook up., though. Good enough to fuck, but not date. I took the profiles down. Figured it was better to meet people in person, you know?”
“Yeah,” I said, not knowing.
“But that shit didn’t work, either. I was already out,” Connor said with air quotes. “It was the same in person, but there were, I guess, chasers? Creeps who want a specific thing. One chick wanted to see me get fucked by another guy while calling me names. Another wanted me to fuck her boyfriend. Actually, a lot of people wanted me to fuck their boyfriends. It was pretty shit.”
I wanted to ask him, so what? Okay, it sucked back then, but now he’s a financially and socially independent adult man. His life is his own to make. But I didn’t. Instead, I nodded for him to keep going.
“Then a few guys on my floor started giving me shit for being bi. Gays they liked. They understood them and their place in the social structure. But a bisexual man who wanted to be their friend on their level? Nope. They’d say I was lying to myself or just looking for attention. They’d laugh at me and throw shit. Got a huge dildo delivered to my dorm room. Felt like the whole thing was a failure because if that’s what art school boys are like, other schools would be much worse. But the shittiest part was feeling like I had to pretend I was a normal guy again just to survive.”
Connor’s jaw clenched several times, and he blinked several more. He looked at me with red, glossy eyes about to spill over.
“But I am a normal guy, bro. So what if I’m attracted to guys, too? I’m still me. Fuck.” He sniffled, wiped his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
That killed me dead. Seeing Connor in pain wiped away much of my anger and annoyance toward him. Maybe he didn’t want his cake and to eat it too. Maybe he didn’t realize cake was an option. Or thought it wasn’t.
I scooted over across the creaky couch and started rubbing his back. As much as I enjoyed touching him in all other instances, it was awkward. I’m shit at comforting people, and worse at emotional support.
“It’s okay, Con. You are normal. Fuck, you’ve made me realize I’m normal, too. I’m attracted to men and women and would be open to dating either. You helped me realize that.”
He wasn’t crying, but he wasn’t not, either. Turning to me, he smiled with half his face.
“Thanks, man,” he said before letting his brow come together. “Wait? You’d be okay with dating another guy, not just me?”
I had to laugh. “Yes, Connor. You’re hot, and I like you, but for several previously mentioned reasons, you’re not available. And you’re not the only guy in the world.”
He laughed and smiled. “That’s awesome, man. Glad to have helped.”
I smiled, too, and kept rubbing his back. Then, after a minute, I said, “So, is that why you dropped out? Because those homophobic assholes made life unlivable?”
He swallowed hard. A few beats passed before he spoke. “I never told you why I stopped watching HunterXHunter, did I?”
“No.”
He swallowed again. “I started watching it with my roommate, Gary. He was the first guy I ever messed around with. We clicked as soon as we met. Instant bros. We both liked anime and were on the animation track. One night we got shit wrecked off some bagged wine and ended up blowing each other. I liked it a fucking lot, and so did he. Gary was a full-on closet case, gay, not bi, but would rather cut his dick off than let his conservative Christian parents know. I felt bad for him since it was already a struggle to go to that school. They said it would turn him gay, and he didn’t want to prove them right.”
For a long time, I didn’t think I really knew Connor. Then, I thought I had a handle on him, and by the time we slept together after the ball, I was sure I knew his guts inside and out. I never would’ve considered another man had caused him heartache. It made so much sense.
“He broke your heart?” I asked.
Connor let out a single sharp laugh. “Something like that, I guess. When they started giving me shit for being bi, Gary freaked out. He was the one to accidentally open the giant dildo, and we had a huge fight that night. He said some really fucked up shit to me, and it got physical.”
“What’d he say?” I asked when I shouldn’t have. He looked at me as his face went white. “I’m sorry, Con. You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s fine,” he said and looked at the table again. “If I’m going to be honest, I should be honest.” He took a deep breath and repeated what Gary said like a grocery list. “He said he hoped I got every STD known to man. That I was a disgrace to my family. A disappointment. That I’m dumb as shit, and my art sucks. That I’m beyond stupid to think I’d ever get a job in the industry. That the only thing I’m good at is lying to myself.”
He took another deep breath without looking at me. “But the one that really hurt, and I still kinda believe, was that no one actually likes me, they only tolerate me.” He gave me a sad smile before returning his gaze to the table. “So I decked him in the fucking face.” He chuckled. “What’s most fucked up is he told me he was scared of all that shit himself, or had heard it one way or another his whole life growing up.”
“Holy shit, Connor…”
He looked at me again with another sad smile. “Yeah. Shit was fucked. He never told anyone who gave him the black eye. But I was hoping he would and they’d kick me out. Because for weeks after, I just heard him and my dad on a loop in my head. Then it was my parents talking down about my field. I stopped going to class, drank myself pickled, then dropped out. Didn’t even make it two whole semesters. I always knew people thought I was a fuck up, but packing my dorm with Gary lying there, making shitty little comments was the first time I believed it. And it never really went away.”
I had to swallow the bile in my throat and the urge to find Gary and beat the shit out of him. But it wasn’t about him, and honestly, if I wasn’t so pissed, I might feel bad for him. But Connor was my priority. Regardless of everything, I still loved him, and hearing that story hurt like a shotgun wound.
“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like, Con. And I’m so sorry you had to live through it. Fuck Gary, and fuck those homophobes, but you’re not a fuck up. People don’t tolerate you, they love you, man! Your friends and family love the shit outta you! No matter what you say. You are so not a fuck up, for real.”
“I am,” he said, sounding close to a sob. “Or I feel that way. That’s why I hide parts of myself. Why I’m constantly sleeping around. I’m so fucking unhappy, man. I’d actually prefer to be settled down with a guy, and go back to school, and get back into animation, but every time I think about it, I get that same feeling like I’m just a fuck up. Or that wanting that stuff is what’s fucked up about me in the first place.”
I finally understood him. Connor’s viewpoint was limited, and his blind spots were legion. He, like me, spent so much time and effort trying to get people to like him while not liking himself very much. Mix in a violent heartbreak, discrimination, and the perceived eternal disappointment of his family, and he was unable to see the larger picture of where and how he fit in. And why worrying so much about it was futile.
I needed to learn those lessons myself.
“When I was a freshman, before I was even in my fraternity, a guy sucked my dick,” I said. “Whenever the memory pops up, I feel sick to my stomach.”
I had never spoken those words out loud before. Connor had fucked me in the ass, and I loved it, but that memory, and the amount of times I got off thinking about it, felt much dirtier. More secret and taboo. My greatest shame. It was dumb as fuck and felt embarrassingly silly compared to what he had just shared.
“Really? Why?” Connor said. “Was it… Like… Did you not want to?”
“No, no, I wanted to. We were playing some shit-faced game between Spin the Bottle and Truth or Dare. I didn’t come, I don’t think. The memory is super hazy. It was my go-to fantasy whenever I had whiskey dick. I’ve reimagined it so many times that I have no idea what actually happened anymore. I used to just explain it away as the craziest thing I’d ever done, and that’s why I thought it was hot, but no, it was hot all on its own. It took admitting I had feelings for you to realize I got sick every time I thought about it because I knew I liked it and wanted to do it again.”
“Damn, dude. From the way you freaked the fuck out the first time I touched you, I thought for sure you’d never gotten with another guy.”
“Well, I don’t really remember it, so that’s still true, in a way.”
“I guess,” he said, looking at the table again.
“I can’t understand what you went through, but I know what it’s like to hide a part of myself, be ashamed of it, fear what other people—especially other guys—would think if they knew. I’m sorry that happened to you, Connor, but you can make it better. We both can. You helped me come out to myself. Maybe I can help you, too.”
He looked at me, almost offended. “Why would you care so much? Your family is super gay-friendly.”
“So is yours, Con, but I never really fit in with my family, either,” I said. “I love them, but I was always the shortest, the worst at sports, and the quietest. I wasn’t tough enough for my manly cousins or cool enough for the others. I’ve never felt like I was part of them, or any group of people I was in. Being with a man would only make that feeling worse.”
“Yeah, for real.”
“Then I started at Ringfield and met you. Those guys are the coolest, most accepting, fun, awesome people I’ve ever known. If I meet a guy and we get serious, I know they’d still embrace me wholeheartedly.”
As I spoke, I wondered if I even believed what I was saying. I had spent so much time agonizing about that exact scenario. But it hit me like a fist—it didn’t matter. I didn’t care. I knew those guys loved me, but ultimately, their opinions were nothing compared to my well-being. Connor desperately needed to realize that, too.
Before he could say anything, I went on. “If you don’t think you can be yourself around those guys, you will never be able to feel yourself around anyone. Even alone in a room. And that fucking sucks, Connor. Seriously.”
Connor looked at me, smiled that half-smile, and looked down at the table again. His voice had laughter when he spoke, but it wasn’t real.
“I felt that way, too. Until I found out they all complained about me and tried to get me fired. From a volunteer fire company.”
I didn’t know he knew about that. And I didn’t know what to say. My thoughts about it were complex and tied to my feelings for him.
He laughed again. “C’mon man, don’t tell me you didn’t know.”
“I, uh, yeah. Someone had mentioned it to me. I didn’t think you knew. I’m sorry, man, I should’ve said something.”
“No, it’s all good. Why start shit with me and the guys?”
“So, do you not feel it with them anymore? I can’t imagine how pissed I’d be if it were me.”
“Oh no, not at all. They were right, 100%.”
“What happened? No one ever told me.”
He snorted a laugh through his nose. “I was a fucking mess a few months ago.”
“How so?”
“Well, I showed up to overnight drunk off my ass with two chicks. It was with Donnie, and my drunken self didn’t think it would be a big deal, but dude was pissed. Then Mike and Nick showed up and told me to go home and that they’d talk to me later. Outside of a text telling me I was off overnight for a while, I didn’t hear from them again for a few days.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah.”
“How’d you find out what happened?”
“Mike sat me down and told me. He said my behavior was unacceptable, and they had made a formal complaint about me. I ended up having a real heart-to-heart with him, spilling my guts about a bunch of stuff. Not, uh… liking guys. Mostly about my family and dropping out. In the end, he told me not to worry about it but to just be better. And that he and the guys would be there to help if I ever needed it again.”
“What had you so messed up?”
Connor shifted. My hand was still on his back, but fell to my side. He said, “I had logged into an old email, and there was a bunch of stuff asking me to apply to all these schools. It kinda just fucked me up.”
“Oh shit. So you did what you do best, sleep around and get drunk.”
He chuckled. “Yup, pretty much. If I’m gonna be a fuck up, I might as well have fun doing it. Even if it’s not fun anymore. If it ever was.”
“Con, you’re not… you fucked up. Past tense. But not anymore. You seem to have gotten your shit together before I met you. So, see, things aren’t always just that one way.”
“I met you right at the tipping point. I was fucking hurt they made the complaint without talking to me first, even if I knew I should’ve opened up to them instead of spiraling. But it hurt, and I was just done with all of it. Before you joined, I had told my landlord I was thinking of ending my lease and moving out west. Like Reno or some shit. Just work, drink, and fuck. Until I worked, drank, and fucked myself into an early grave.” He chuckled. “But then I met you, and for some fucking reason, I stayed. You made me want to do better. To get my shit together. Fuck, man, I’ve told you this before, but you got me to draw again. There’s just something about your face that I had to draw. I couldn’t name it, but I could see it. And I needed to express it.”
He looked at me again, half a smile and glossy eyes. “Hanging out with you was the happiest I’d been in years. Maybe ever, though getting a new manga when I was a kid comes close.” He laughed and looked away again. “Shit, Aiden, after we had sex, all I wanted to do was cuddle, get food, fuck some more and cuddle again. I never ever wanted to let you go. You in my arms, naked, in a comfy ass bed is my happy place.”
It was my happy place, too, until it wasn’t.
“Yeah, Con, that would’ve been great. But we talked, and that was better. Because, to me, that’s relationship stuff. And you can’t be in a relationship with me. Which is fine, but, dude, understand I want something serious. I’m okay being single, but if I ever feel the way I feel about you for another person, I want it to be my forever. You know?”
He looked at me, his eyes reminding me of when he saved me in the apartment building, landing everywhere they could find.
