Jump to content
    Mark Arbour
  • Author
  • 4,520 Words
  • 6,407 Views
  • 4 Comments
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Millennium - 30. Chapter 30

December 4, 1999

 

He’d gone off to be on his own after our discussion, but it didn’t really worry me. We were both like that. We needed space to think about things, to digest the shit we were talking about. About half an hour later he came back and sat on the patio next to me.

“Where’d you go?” I asked, trying to be friendly.

“I went off to pout,” he said, giving me a small smile, and making me laugh.

“I got the better deal,” I said. “I got to just stay here and pout.”

“I thought this would be easier, and this would work out better,” he said.

“You remember when we had that big fight after Yosemite?” I asked.

“You going to throw that in my face again?”

I raised my eyebrows and looked firmly at him, reminding him that I was trying to be nice. “I remember that all I wanted was for us to be back together again, to be a couple again, and it seemed like no matter what I did, you weren’t going for it. It was one of the most frustrating times of my life.”

“I wasn’t ready to commit to you again after you hurt me,” he said. Then he gasped out loud and stared at me, the recollection of how he’d felt then finally helping him understand the way I felt now. “I also remember your grandmother, and that must be where you learned your skill with these verbal traps.”

“She trained me well,” I said, smiling. “I know you planned that we’d come down here and have a romantic weekend and make up and things would go back to normal. And if I could make that commitment to you, I would. But you know, it’s really neat the way we’re communicating now.”

“Yeah, it’s fucking wonderful,” he said, kind of joking.

Robbie had organized a catered dinner for us in the dining room, and that meant we had to take ourselves and our conversation inside. We sat there largely in silence, eating a delicious meal. There was a chef knocking herself out in the kitchen, and a nice waiter shuffling food back and forth. I’d just finished the appetizer and I was already full. The sun was setting, a beautiful sunset, and all seemed right with the world, only it wasn’t.

Still, we tried to make the best of it. We both got into the moment, into the romance of it, and just chattered away, flirting and joking and really enjoying each other. Only I couldn’t stop thinking about our conversation. It was haunting me, these things that he’d told me, and I was having a hard time processing them.

“What is it?” he asked me, concerned. Of course he could read me like a book.

“I’m really bothered by this shit about you and Jeanine being so unhappy with me,” I said.

“I can’t speak for Jeanine,” Robbie said. “And I wasn’t unhappy. There was just something missing.”

He seemed irritated that I’d brought it up. “I’m sorry. I’m here eating a terrific meal with the guy I love, in one of the most romantic settings imaginable, but my mind is going 150 mph trying to figure out what I did wrong.”

“Your mind is always going that fast,” he said, smiling, then he got serious. “I’m worried that if we talk about it, we’ll end up fighting, and I’m enjoying you so much I’d hate to ruin it.”

“That’s just it,” I told him. “I don’t want you to be afraid of my moods, worried that I’ll spaz out on you. Do I do that a lot?”

“Sometimes,” he said. “You’ve been pretty stressed out lately, so it’s been worse. I don’t know that there’s anything that you did wrong, it just wasn’t working for me.”

I looked at him and nodded, then swallowed hard and dove in. “Didn’t you get how bad this would hurt me, when you wanted to see other people?” He looked frustrated. “I’m not trying to be a dick; I’m just trying to understand. It’s over; I’m doing the post-mortem.”

“I didn’t really think it through from your point of view. I was being really selfish. I felt like I needed more out of our relationship, to find that balance where we’re in this together. With you, I had an alpha male who was in charge. With Carson, I had a pussy that wasn’t. He made me feel, well, he made me feel masculine.” He sighed. “I figured that you’d see that, and it would be an easy solution for you.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me? Why didn’t you tell me all of this?”

“Because it would have required you to change, maybe not who you are, but how you act.”

Wow. That really freaked me out. “You don’t think I can change like that?”

He looked at me nervously. “I don’t know.”

“If you don’t think that, why do you still want to be with me?”

His nervousness changed to frustration. “See, this is what you do. I’m trying to explain this, and you jump straight to the end, to intimating that we shouldn’t be together at all.”

I stared at him. He was right. I did do that. I tended to take things to extremes. “I see your point.”

He was really surprised by that, and soon the surprise faded and was replaced by a big smile. “I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks.”

“Old dog? Old?” I teased. “So you didn’t think I could change before, but now you do?”

He looked uncomfortable. “I wanted things to be different. I didn’t think that if I had a simple conversation with you, it would be enough. I decided that if this plan worked, I’d have a balance and you’d be happy too. If it didn’t, well, we’d be able to make some changes.”

“So you decided that I wouldn’t make any serious efforts to change unless you hit me with a Mack truck?” I demanded, trying not to sound as pissed off as I was.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think I can do that now?” I challenged.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m hoping. But after going through this, I decided that even if you don’t, I’d rather be with you like we were than not with you at all.”

“I’m worried that you’ll think you have to put me through a crucible again if you want something from me.”

I figured that would piss him off, but he was really calm. “I think this was enough for both of us. You act like we could have just talked about this, and everything would have been OK.”

“Wouldn’t it? Shouldn’t you have given me a chance?”

“I probably should have been more forceful about it, but I’ve said stuff to you, and Jeanine has too. Remember how you let Will stay home and surf after you came home from the hospital? When Jeanine called you on it, you promised to do better in the future. Did you mean it?”

“Not really,” I said honestly. We sat there in silence while I thought about how cavalierly I’d treated her. “I’m worried that I won’t be able to change like you want me to.”

“You know what, Brad, it’s really easy. It’s really really easy. All you have to do is listen to me and consider what I’m saying without getting pissed off.”

“I have that bad of a temper?” He was opening the door to my soul and forcing me to look inside.

“Sometimes, especially on certain issues. You don’t like to be questioned after you’ve made a decision: you don’t like to be second-guessed. And you know that if someone hits your pride, you’re going to go apeshit.”

“I think I’m the one who needs a shrink,” I said, smiling.

“I think that would help you,” he said honestly. I’d meant it as a joke, but he was dead serious. I felt myself getting pissed off, and then chided myself for the anger inside me. He wasn’t being mean about it, he was genuinely concerned about me, and he knew how helpful David had been for him.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“So I’ve been sitting here telling you how you have to change. What do you want me to do?”

I grinned. “Stop whining.” He glared at me and I grinned back at him, tilting my head playfully, until I got him to not be pissed off.

“Looks like I have something tough to work on too.” We both laughed.

“I want you to give me a chance, to talk to me about shit like this, before you play God with my feelings and our relationship,” I said forcefully. I needed him to get this point.

He seemed to understand. “That’s fair.”

“This whole thing has me really frustrated, both with you and with me.”

“Explain how you’re frustrated with me,” he said.

“Oh, it’s all about you,” I teased.

“Alright, start with you then,” he joked back.

“I’m frustrated with you, and with Jeanine, because you’re throwing all this stuff at me about what an inconsiderate ass I am, and it’s not like I’ve changed all that much. At least I don’t think I have. Did you think that I was going to evolve into a completely different person? I am who I am. Who I was when we first got together. It’s like all of a sudden you want me to be someone else. I didn’t do a bait and switch on you. This is who I am. Evidently I’m a domineering, inconsiderate bastard.”

Then he did something that really surprised me. Instead of getting pissed at me, he asked me a question. “And why are you frustrated with yourself?” It was nice, but I was starting to feel like I was meeting with David.

“Because a lot of what you’re saying makes sense. I see how I do these things to you, and to Jeanine. I’m just not sure that I can change, at least as much as you seem to want me to.”

“Like I said, all I want you to do is listen a little more patiently when I bring things up.”

“That’s a whole different scenario than not feeling like I need you,” I said, and worked hard to make it not sound bitchy. We sat there quietly, with me thinking about all he’d said, and him seemingly happy at having gotten it all out. I was gazing off at the last few rays of sunshine when I felt him looking at me intently. “What?”

“Hang on,” he said. I just noticed that the waiter and cook were there. It had been a fantastic dinner. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He paid them and led them out. I heard the door close and then he was back in his chair, and we were all alone.

“You were staring at me,” I said, reminding him of my original question.

“Duh. I always stare at you,” he said, smiling. Then he got more serious. “I love you, and you love me. We belong together.”

“And?” I asked.

“So I don’t know how to deal with this thing you want, with these other guys you need to fuck around with. For me, it’s like it was when you first got pissed at me in David’s office. We have a chance to have that beautiful thing back, and you’re risking it all.”

“I agree with you. I agree with everything you said. And like I told you before, I could hold your hands and tell you that I love you, promise that I’ll be faithful and monogamous just like I have been. Only that ignores all of these feelings that have been churned up inside me, all of this anger and frustration that hasn’t dissipated.”

“And you think that would spill over and you’d fuck around on me anyway,” he said bitterly.

“It would. I’m almost sure of it,” I said. “So let me ask you this, do you want me to do that, to tell you all those things, knowing how I feel, and just hope that I can keep things on the down low so you don’t find out? Or would you rather I be open about it?”

He ignored my question. “Here’s where I am. We made it through this, barely, and the way I look at it, I’ve done what I can to make this up to you. That means I get to put the guilt behind me. I’m not going for this deal where it’s only you who fucks around. I’ll give you another month, but honestly, I’m not sure we’ll survive it.” A note of cockiness had sprung up in his tone.

“Why not?” I asked, knowing damn well why not. I just wanted to make sure he knew.

“Because that means we have another month of freedom, both of us. And I’m not going to throw up walls like I have. If I want to fuck someone, I’m going for it. If I want someone to fuck me, I’m going for it. There’s only one pledge I’ll make to you, the same one in the beginning. No one else can fist me. Everything else is fair game.” Now he added some defiance to the cockiness.

“If that’s what you have to do, that’s what you have to do. And I’ll make the same pledge I made to you. I won’t fuck Matt.” I watched him get pissed at that. “I wish it could be different. I wish I could get there. But I can’t, not yet. I’m sorry Robbie. I really am.” I felt so conflicted. Ever since he’d dumped me, I’d had this goal in mind. Only now, now that it was here and in front of me, I couldn’t take it. I was just too unsettled, and too unsure of him to make that kind of commitment so soon.

“I just don’t want you feeding me a bunch of guilt,” he said. Now his tone had gone beyond cockiness and defiance. Now he was just being an ass.

“Let’s keep things in perspective,” I said, pissed off. “We wouldn’t be in this fucking mess if you hadn’t started it. So don’t go making it sound like I’m the bad guy, just because it takes me longer than a couple of weeks to get over this bullshit.” We stared at each other, pissed off. I got my anger under control. “I think there’s a few things we need to talk about. We already had the safe-sex talk, and I meant what I said about that. Remember, I handled that well before and so did you. I’m relying on you to be cool with that.”

“I said I would, and I will,” he snapped. I ignored his attitude, and gave myself credit for my self-control.

“The other thing is that I’m not doing this to punish you, and I’m not doing this to start a whole new relationship. I’m worried that we’ll try to hurt each other, and we do that so well.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that either one of us could do that shit, where we find a guy and use that relationship to piss the other one off. I’m not doing this to piss you off. I don’t want to piss you off. I just need my freedom for a while.”

“And you’re worried that I’ll meet someone and fall for him, and that I’ll rub your nose in it?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, ignoring how nasty he was being.

He thought about that. “Part of that is the risk you’re taking. But I understand where you’re coming from.”

“I’m not the only one who gets jealous,” I reminded him.

“I didn’t say you were.”

He was pissing me off with his veiled threats, seriously testing me, to see if I could keep my cool. He probably wasn’t actually doing that, but I told myself he was, if only to strengthen my resolve not to lose it with him. “You’re right, this is a huge risk. Both of us are very loving people, and both of us desperately need a partner. You make it sound like we’re breaking up, and that you won’t be there for me, and that I won’t be there for you. Is that what you’re thinking?”

“What would you call it when you tell me I’m not enough and you have to fuck around with other guys?” And with that, all my cool resolve vanished.

“I’d laugh in your face and ask you how it fucking feels, asshole,” I said, almost shouted. “Then I’d say you’re fucking deaf as a board. I didn’t say I didn’t want to be your partner, I want that. I didn’t say I didn’t need you, I do. All I asked you for was a little more time to try and repair my feelings and emotions. So where is ‘breaking up’ in any of that?”

“See, now you’re pissed off and being a dick, when I’m trying to have a conversation,” he said with a smarmy attitude.

“Oh yeah, a conversation. Where you sit there and poke at me until you piss me off and I finally lose it. That’s not having a conversation, that’s being passive-aggressive.” I got my breathing under control. “Fuck yeah I’m pissed off at you. You’re threatening me. You’re saying that if I take this time, you’re going to run off and find some other guy. I’m talking about people to fuck, and you’re threatening me with another relationship.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to,” I spat. “It was in the context. Don’t be so fucking literal. But you do what you have to do. See if you can’t hurt me even more over the next month. See if you can’t really drive a wedge between us.”

“Like you’re not doing that?” he yelled.

I got in his face. “You started this. I just want more time to finish it. You want to go find someone who will be a better partner, you fucking go right ahead.”

“Aren’t you doing that?” he demanded.

“I’m talking about a goddamn fuck buddy. Don’t you get the difference?” We stared at each other, breathing hard, and I wondered if we’d end up in a physical fight. We stood there, glaring at each other, until our anger started to fade.

He held out his hand. “Come on.”

“What?” I asked, still incredibly pissed off.

“I know just what you need,” he said.

“What?” I asked, more curiously this time.

He led me to the bedroom and we pulled off our clothes. He pushed me onto the bed and jumped on top of me, pinning me down. He made his hand into the shape I made when I fisted him. “I think it’s your turn to try it.” My eyes must have bulged to three times their size, and he started laughing. “I’m just kidding. I’m not gonna do that. I’m just gonna fuck you really hard.” He said the last sentence in his sluttiest tone.

“Oh yeah? You think I’m going to let you do that?” I asked, mimicking his voice.

“I know you are. You want me to.” He thrust his hips into mine, rubbing his hard cock against mine. “See, see how hard you are. You want me inside you, slamming you so fucking hard you can’t stand it.”

We started wrestling, wrestling violently, with me trying to push him off of me and him working his magnificent body to keep me pinned. Every move I made brought friction between our bodies, every time I pushed him away it made me long just that much more for his attention. Finally my body took over, refusing to fight against the inevitable, against what I wanted and what I craved. I moaned, thrusting up against him: “Fuck me, fuck me hard,” I said.

He lifted my legs up and threw some lube on and slammed into me, only it wasn’t violent, it was just aggressive. Then he started to really fuck me. I could feel his balls smack against my ass as he pounded me, could feel his shaved pubic hair brush against my balls, and it was heaven. His big hard dick slid in and out of me, slamming against my prostate, but even more than that, filling me up and making me feel like his bitch, like I was completely his. “You like this don’t you?” He asked me in his slutty voice. “You love it when I fuck you hard.”

“Fuck yeah!” I heard myself yell. “Harder, goddammit!” He obliged, really pouring it on, working me so hard that the sweat was pouring off of him. I felt him getting close, I felt myself getting close, and I pushed him off and out of me. “My turn. On your knees.”

He smiled at me and moved so fast it was almost comical. Some more lube, and then I was in him. I slammed him like he had slammed me. I loved it when he fucked me hard. God, that had been fun, but as much as I enjoyed it, he enjoyed it so much more. He loved it when I returned the favor. He was lying with his arms folded and his head on top of them, looking back at me and whimpering. His ass was in the air, and he was throbbing, pushing back into me, and begging me for more. Every slam, he slammed back. “Oh baby,” he cried. “Oh baby, I have to cum. I have to cum.” And then he shrieked as he blew his load, and I let out a loud roar, the roar of a lion, as I joined him.

When our orgasms subsided, we collapsed on top of each other, oblivious to the various fluids on our bodies. We drifted off to sleep, physically intertwined, but with a massive emotional gulf between us.

December 5, 1999

 

“That was a really nice place,” I told him as the plane took off. “Thanks for taking me here.”

“Yeah, it was a fucking blast,” he said grumpily. He’d been up this morning early, out of bed and showered before I even woke up, as if he had to do that to avoid having sex with me. Once again, I ignored his bitchiness and tried to be nice.

“What’s your schedule like this week?” I asked him, taking out my calendar, and trying to be friendly in an efficient kind of way.

“It looks like I’ll be out trying to find another guy or two to fuck,” he said. That really fired up my temper, especially when I was trying to be civil and really working at it. I glared at him, and he realized he’d pushed me just a little too far. I watched him mentally back up.

“I think that’s a great idea. Probably the only way you’re getting laid,” I snapped.

“Like you won’t be doing that,” he said.

“My dance card is already full,” I said, being a smart ass. I pulled out my briefcase.

“You’re going to work?”

“It’s a lot less stressful than talking to you,” I said. He gave me a dirty look, and somehow that was motivating. I looked over all the numbers Luke had put together. We’d started selling stock, just like we’d planned, and those proceeds had been building up and building up. We were sitting on a serious pile of cash, and not just in the company. Both Stef and I personally were like swimmers sitting on the side of the pool, waiting to dive in, while everyone else was already in the pool having a party. And that’s the thing: The fucking market just kept going up and up and up, while we were sitting on the sidelines, missing out.

I read a memo from Luke recommending that we suspend sales of our shares as planned until next year. We still had a lot of our portfolio yet to liquidate. He wanted to hold off on selling the rest for a while. He claimed that taxes were the reason, but I could read between the lines. He was frustrated with watching the markets soar while we sat there, holding our dicks. Stef had approved his request, pending my input. Luke wanted to start selling shares again in the middle of January, and have us out of the market by the end of February.

What were we going to do with all that money in the mean time? I pondered the regular market, the S&P 500 and the like, and that would be good for a portion. Stef had made his money in real estate, so maybe we could position more there. The options were endless, or so it seemed, but we’d been so focused on tech stocks it was really hard for me to wrap my mind around other possibilities.

I glanced sideways at Robbie and saw him dozing. I wondered if I was thinking about him in the same way. I’d had my mind so focused on him for all these years, maybe I’d blocked out other options. Maybe we weren’t meant to be together. Did people really have one, true soul mate? I drifted off in a daydream, pondering that.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked me. I hadn’t noticed that he’d woken up.

“I didn’t mean to stare at you.” His look alone challenged that lie. “I thought you were sleeping,” I said, an excuse, not an answer to his question.

“You looked deep in thought,” he said, and for the first time since we got on the plane it wasn’t nasty.

“I’m just thinking about life and relationships.”

“OK, I have to hear this,” he said, being a smartass. I ignored him and went back to reading my memos. “Alright, I’m sorry. I’m being an ass.”

“I was just wondering if people really have one, true soul mate. I’m wondering if instead they have a series of them, and that they change over time. Kind of like Max and Marcel. They were a couple for so long, and then it just stopped working for them, and they moved on.”

“Yeah, but neither one of them is happy now.”

“I don’t know if that’s because they’re not together. They weren’t happy when they were together either, at least not at the end. I think they’re unhappy because they haven’t gotten to a place where they’ve found their next partner, or they haven’t gotten secure enough in themselves to be happy alone.”

“So you were thinking about all this while you were looking at me, wondering if our time together is over, and that we need to find other people,” he said.

“Yeah. You weren’t happy before this, and I was. Now neither one of us is happy. I love you, I just don’t know if that’s enough. For me, right now, it’s not.”

He stared at me, horrified, and then sadly nodded his head

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 18
  • Love 3
  • Haha 1
  • Wow 2
  • Sad 4
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Story Discussion Topic

You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

Of course, it's not enough...Brad has been monogamous for 14 years and now he has the chance to be a slut. What almost 40 year old guy wouldn't jump at an opportunity like that. It is incredibly selfish and self centered, but hey, isn't that just the stereotypical gay man?

 

Poor Robbie...he fucked up...he knows he fucked up...he has bent over backwards to solve the problem and there is nothing he is going to be able to do to fix this.

  • Like 2
  • Sad 1
Link to comment

Forget the slap upside the head, I need a two by four... The problem is that I can see and semi understand where both of the them are coming from. I think in some ways Brad is actually in a position to get hurt worse than Robbie. Brad has already said it, Robbie is his foundation and even though they are going through a rough patch, Brad still needs Robbie more than Robbie needs Brad...

  • Like 4
Link to comment

Robbie made some great points, which is great but why doesn't he get Brad just not ready? Sure Brad's being kinda dicky, but his foundation was ripped out from under him.

  • Like 3
Link to comment

Let’s keep things in perspective,” I said, pissed off. “We wouldn’t be in this fucking mess if you hadn’t started it.

Yeah, let's keep this in perspective Brad; you wouldn't be in this fucking mess if you were not such a domineering asshole and you didn't treat Robbie like a possession instead of an equal partner. And if you think this Robbie thing is a mess, wait until you see you make of Jeanine and Will because you are such a domineering asshole.

"I didn’t say I didn’t want to be your partner, I want that. I didn’t say I didn’t need you, I do. All I asked you for was a little more time to try and repair my feelings and emotions.

30 days is plenty of time to have fixed your fragile, snowflake feelings. You go to a shrink for that, you don't fuck people and put that in your boyfriend's face.

  • Like 1
Link to comment
View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
  • Newsletter

    Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter.  Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

Our Privacy Policy can be found here: Privacy Policy. We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..