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    Mark Arbour
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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.
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Flux - 44. Chapter 44

It's Friday (August 1) at 4:20.  Seemed a good time to post the next chapter of Flux.  :P

August 8, 2002

Chicago, IL

 

Matt

 

I groaned and rolled over, facing away from the window, and the sunlight that was glaring in. I’d gotten into Chicago and just come up to the condo and crashed. It hadn’t been all that late, but I was tired, the kind of tired you get when you’re fatigued. The kind of tired that comes from having a really shitty day. Usually when that happens, I can’t sleep, and things are just worse the next day, but last night, all alone in the condo, I crashed hard. I looked at the clock and it was already 10am. I’d slept for thirteen hours. Shit.

I reached for my phone and saw the message light blinking. I’d called Cam when I landed to tell him I was in town, but other than that I hadn’t talked to anyone. Brad would find out I made it after talking to the pilots, and he’d pass that on to everyone else. I had messages from Wade and from Cam. I hit the button and played Wade’s first: “I got your note. We’ll talk. I love you.” I couldn’t figure out, from his message, how he felt about it. I listened to it again, then again, trying to decipher his tone, and then realized I was being ridiculous. He’d read my note, gotten the ring, and told me he loved me. That was good enough.

I hit play again, and listened to Cam’s message. “Great to hear you’re back in town! I don’t know what you have planned tomorrow, but in the evening, they’re doing tryouts for the hockey team. Call me and let me know if you want to go.”

I hadn’t played hockey since March. I hadn’t been on the ice since then. Just the thought of playing was like a major rush. I called Cam, and this time he answered. “Hey!”

“Hey to you,” I said pleasantly. “When is hockey?”

“I knew that would convince you to call me back,” he said.

“It was a good lure, but I would have called you back anyway.”

“Tonight at 8pm. It’s at Johnny’s Ice House,” he said. I jotted that down.

“What are you doing today?” I asked.

“Hanging out with you,” he said. “If you want.”

“I want,” I said, smiling at the phone. “I don’t have any gear. So that means shopping.”

“Dude, awesome!” he said. Buying new hockey equipment was always fun.

“Maybe I’ll buy you a new cup. Make sure your balls are safe,” I teased.

“You could just hold them for me instead,” he said, flirting.

“I can do that. I gotta take a shower. Where do you want to meet?”

“I’m on the north side. I’ll snag a pizza and come by.”

“Awesome,” I said. I hung and hopped into the shower, then decided to do some extra personal grooming, just in case I got lucky with Cam, or in case I had to fuck my way onto the team. I’d just finished getting ready when the doorbell rang. I opened it to find Cam there, carrying a huge pizza. “Come on in,” I said, holding the door open.

He went over to the coffee table and put the pizza down while I went in and grabbed some plates and napkins. I came back out and went to set them down when he stood in front of me. “I’m really sorry.”

I leaned in and kissed him and it was really nice. Probably the nicest kiss I could get that wasn’t Wade’s. “I figured you were probably just freaked out. I didn’t think you’d hate me forever.”

“I didn’t hate you at all,” he objected.

“Dude, you got a monster pizza. Good thing. I’m fucking starving.”

“If you’re hungry after that, I’ve got something else you can eat,” he said suggestively.

“Let’s eat fast,” I said with a leer. I went back and got us each a beer, and then we devoured the pizza in record time.

When we were done, he stood up and held out his hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” I asked playfully, even as I followed him back to my room. He stood there in front of me, and slowly undressed himself. God, he was handsome. I stood there like a moron, and only when he was done, and standing there nude, did I think to take my own clothes off.

He went over and lay on the bed, then motioned me over and pulled me on top of him. His legs and arms wrapped around me, hugging me like a python, even as I lowered my mouth down to meet his. We kissed for a long time, just connecting, even as I thrust my hard cock against his. He gently pushed me away, ending our kiss. “I want you inside me.”

I reached over and grabbed a condom and the lube, and started to work him open, but he was an experienced boy, so it didn’t take much. Right before I entered him, I stopped. “I need to tell you something.” He just looked at me, waiting for me to go on. “They did the follow up tests. I’m negative.”

He smiled, a big smile, a smile I wiped off his face by pushing my dick into him. “I’m so glad,” he said with a moan. And then I started to fuck him, only as I did, I stopped to think about what he’d done. He’d fucked up, but he’d come over here and offered to bottom for me when he still thought I was positive. It was a really sweet gesture. I’d started out fucking him, but we ended up making love.

We lay there, covered in cum, enjoying the afterglow. “So what was with that?” I asked, referring to him freaking out on me.

“I’m uptight about HIV. I shouldn’t be, but I am.”

“Why?” I asked.

“The dude I was with before I was with Josh was positive.”

“Bummer,” I said. “But since you dealt with this already, why did it freak you out?”

“Because even though we usually used condoms, we barebacked about a dozen times. And of those, I bottomed ten of them.”

“Dude, that is really high risk!” I said, not a little pissed off that he’d risk himself like that. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“He didn’t tell me he was positive,” he said softly.

“Holy shit,” I said, stunned at that betrayal. “Dude, that is just so wrong. So wrong.”

He nodded. “I got lucky. I came out of it alright.”

I ran my hand across his cheek. “Only you didn’t. You got hurt really bad.”

He shrugged, like it was no big deal, like a man was supposed to do. “I got over it.”

“You’re such an honest guy. How come you pick shitheads to date?”

He laughed. “I like big dicks.” I laughed with him. “I guess when I fall for someone, my judgment is pretty shitty.” He reminded me of Cody; he was the same way.

“Alright, well here’s what we’re going to do. From now on, when you like a dude, you can’t go out with him unless I clear it.”

“I’m not giving you control of my love life,” he said.

“You will if you want me to keep you satisfied,” I said, even as I stroked his cock. He moaned, and I moved my mouth down and gave him one good blow job. He tried to reciprocate, but I stopped him. “Dude, I am drained. I had to keep two dudes satisfied for a few days.”

“Pussy,” he joked. “Let’s go buy some gear, and see if you can still play hockey.” He went to get in the shower while I called and reserved a car, then I joined him. I thought about Josh’s body, and how it had been so gym perfect. Cam’s was nothing like that. I noticed that he had a few bruises on his legs, and that really made me smile. Those were hockey slashing bruises. I was so excited to get back on the ice.

“Dude, can we run an errand first?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said. We walked out front and found the limo waiting for us. Cam gave me a dubious look, but he jumped in. “Where are we going?” I asked Cam.

“DePaul,” he said. “The admin building.”

“Got it,” the driver said.

I sat in the back seat with Cam and put up the privacy screen. “A limo? What the fuck?”

“I don’t have a car yet,” I said, remembering I’d have to take care of that.

“Yeah, but we could have taken a cab.”

“Peasant,” I teased, making him chuckle. “So why are we going to DePaul?”

“I have to turn in another financial aid form.”

“More loans?”

“It’s brutal,” he said. We got to DePaul, and our driver got the wrong building, but Cam told him where to pick us up, while we walked there. It was a pretty cool campus. We got to the financial aid office, and he had to wait to meet with someone. We just bullshitted about the school while he did.

“Mr. Heely,” a really rigid looking woman said.

He got up and followed her, and seemed surprised but not annoyed that I went with him. “We’ve found some private loans that may fill the gap,” she said.

“How much is it?” I asked. She gave me an unpleasant look, and then glanced at Cam to see if she could tell me. He nodded.

“The gap between already awarded aid and tuition and fees, is $4,324,” she said.

“What’s the total bill for tuition and fees?” I asked.

“The total is $11,327,” she said.

“Put it on that. The whole thing,” I said, and handed her my credit card.

“Dude,” Cam objected.

“There’s a $200 service fee for using credit cards,” she said.

“That’s fine,” I said. She went off to charge it on the card.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded.

“You’re so fucking stupid, I’m paying to make you smarter,” I teased him.

The lady returned with my card and the receipt, which I signed off on. We walked out of there, and found the limo. Cam told him which hockey store to go to, and then we kicked back and enjoyed the ride.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he said.

“How much money would I have to have so you wouldn’t give me shit about my paying your tuition bill?”

“How much do you have?”

“I asked you first,” I said. “Five million? Ten million?”

“Split the difference,” he said.

“Seven and a half million?” I asked. He nodded. “Double it. And that’s just the liquid money.”

“Dude, no shit?”

“No shit.”

“Then you owe me twenty dollars for the pizza.” That cracked me up. He waited until I was done laughing, and then got serious. “I really appreciate that. Taking out those loans was really bugging me, and it was going to mean a lot more hours working.”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

“I’m worried that I’m taking advantage of you,” he said.

“Lucky for you, you have a sweet ass,” I said, getting a grin from him. “The best thing about having money is helping friends. This is a good way to spend it. Besides, you couldn’t take advantage of me.”

“Why?”

“You’re too honest, and too trustworthy,” I said. “Shit, for a kid, Will is a good judge of character, and he picked up on that right away.”

“Thanks,” he said, and he was blushing. How adorable was that? I was prevented from taking advantage of his total cuteness when we pulled up to the hockey store.

A really hot guy came up to help us. “What do you need today?”

“Everything,” I said. “I just moved here, and left all my gear at home.” He smiled big, because even if he wasn’t on commissions, it was still fun to put all that shit together. We started with skates, and I spent a fucking fortune. Cam bitched about his, so I made him get new ones like mine. After that he stopped bitching, but I still bought him a new cup, just to give him shit. And to freak out the cute dude who was helping us.

We lugged our stuff out to the limo, and Cam told the driver to take us to a nice restaurant in Greek Town. We had a blast, and drank a little more than we probably should have, then got in the limo for the trip to Johnny’s Ice House. “They’re pretty hard core. Brace yourself.”

Tryouts like this could either be relatively relaxed, or really intense. Really intense usually meant you had to prove yourself, and that meant I’d probably end up fighting. “Good thing I slammed some booze.” I fought better when I was a little hammered.

“And everyone has a nickname. Well almost everyone.”

“What’s yours?”

He frowned, and I started laughing, because I knew, from his look, that it would be fucking hilarious. “Cheeks.” I laughed even harder.

“Why Cheeks?”

“The captain’s name is Banjo. After my first game, he walked by me in the locker room and slapped my ass. Told me I had nice cheeks.”

“You do,” I said.

“They’ll probably just call you dipshit,” he said, giving me shit. The car stopped, our cue that we were there. I grabbed my new bag with all my new shit, and followed Cam into the rink.

There was an older guy, probably in his mid-30s, standing there, talking to some people with clipboards. “Banjo. This is my friend Matt. He wants to play,” Cam said.

“You ever play before?” he asked me contemptuously, even as he looked at my new bag. He was giving me attitude, but he was also seriously checking me out.

“I’m good at a lot of things, but I’m really good at hockey,” I said, blatantly flirting with him.

“We’ll see about that,” he said.

“Dude, you are so going to want me on your team,” I said, and raised my eyebrows.

“Come on,” Cam said, dragging me off to the locker room.

“You keep your stuff here?” I asked.

“There are four teams, but this is the competitive one. Usually they don’t let a dude try out unless he’s played with the other guys, but I vouched for you, so don’t fuck up.”

“What are we called?”

“Top Dogs,” he said, cracking me up. “We get to keep our gear here. The other teams don’t.”

“Which locker should I pick?” I asked, being cocky.

“This one,” he said, pointing to the one next to him. We got our shit out and started to get ready. There were about ten other guys getting dressed, and they bantered with each other, but didn’t really talk to us. They sure as fuck looked, though, so I took a really long time to put my jock and cup on.

“Why don’t they talk to us?” I asked Cam.

“They’re not talking to you,” he said. “You’re not on the team.” These guys were just a little too ridiculously intense.

My skates had been heat fitted, so they were perfect. No need to break these bitches in. We hit the ice and started skating to warm up, and I was in heaven. I was having such a blast, I was grandstanding a bit. The shit JJ had taught me had really ratcheted up my skating level.

The coach blew a whistle, and motioned us all over. There was a big player standing next to him. “That’s Jobo” Cam said quietly, referring to the player. “He’s the key voter, besides the coach, in deciding who makes the team.”

“Is he that good?”

“No, he’s straight.” I looked at him, confused. “Dude, we’re not bigots. Straight dudes who don’t have issues and just want to play good hockey are welcome.”

We skated up to the guy and I did a pretty slick stop in front of him. “Who the fuck are you?”

I spit out my mouth guard and pulled off my helmet. “Matt Carrswold.”

“You’re supposed to skate with the team a few times before tryouts,” he said.

“I just moved here,” I said. “No time.”

“Then maybe you should wait until next season,” he suggested. He was really trying to bust my balls.

“Dude, I can skate circles around you. The only reason you’re giving me shit, is because you’re a scared little bitch.”

“Fuck you,” he snarled.

“We gonna posture, or we gonna skate?” I asked, getting in his face.

“I don’t know if I want an asshole like you on the team.”

“You a six beer straight dude, or a twelve beer straight dude?” I asked. That was a reference to how many beers he’d have to drink to fuck around with another dude. I put on my helmet, and skated away.

“Dude, you just made yourself a target,” Cam said. I shrugged. It was how these things went.

They split us into two teams, and I noticed that Jobo put me on the other team, because he was really planning to fuck with me. We argued about what positions we’d be in, and I ended up at center, which was my position at Stanford. Cam was on my team, part of the defense, or D. I looked over at him and winked, then stared at the puck, waiting for it to drop.

I won the face off and charged forward, blasting Banjo aside, but I think that was mostly because he was a little surprised that I was that quick. Their D swarmed around me, so I passed the puck to some other rookie on the wing, and he fucked up and we lost the puck. That was a little frustrating, and it turned out that was how the thing went. I had two really weak wings, so it was tough, because their D just crowded me and shut me down. It took me fifteen minutes to finally score, and I had to do it all by myself.

After that, Jobo was really gunning for me, and I knew that the only way I was going to make the team was to fight this dude. I didn’t have to win; I just had to do alright. Some players could fight basically on a dime, with no provocation, but I didn’t do well unless I was pissed. And while he was gunning for me, he hadn’t pissed me off yet.

I had the puck and was screaming into their zone, with my lame ass wings trailing me, when Jobo came up behind me and hit me with a wicked cross-check. It was such a dirty move, that it was a blatant challenge. We ended up skating into the board, and I slashed the fuck out of his leg. That was all it took. He dropped his gloves, and so did I and we began circling each other. All the other players gathered around us, waiting to break it up after a winner had been determined.

He was a big boy, but I’d been watching him, and I was way more agile. I faked to my right, pulling him that way, then shifted left, confusing him and giving my fist leverage as it flew at him and slammed into his helmet. He staggered back and I lurched forward, landing two more punches. But I didn’t want to face him too bad, so with the third punch, I pushed him backward and onto his ass. Once he fell, that was the cue for the fight to end, but for show, I waited until a few of the guys grabbed me and dragged me away.

The coach yelled at us, even though he knew what we were doing, and he was watching us to see how I did. I ignored him. I’d learned over the years when a coach was being serious, or full of shit. They told us to go change, so I shrugged and followed the other rookies off the ice. The only other guy there who was any good was a defenseman, but they all talked about how great they were anyway. I took a shower, smiling as I noticed the dudes looking at me. This was really cool. In the past, all my teammates, except Wade, had been straight. I’d had fun with it, playing around with them, while Wade had been rigidly correct. But here I was, in the showers with eight other dudes, at least six of whom were probably gay, and half of whom were hot. It was a pretty weird experience.

Some dude told us to wait in the lobby while the coach talked to the team about us. After about half an hour, the guys on the team came out, having showered and changed. It was funny how eight of them peeled off and one of them went to talk to each of us. I watched as Cam walked up to one of the defensemen, but not the guy who was good. “Carrswold,” Jobo said, getting me to turn back and look in front of me. I braced myself for his bullshit, but he just smiled. “Go pick a locker.”

I smiled back at him, and held out my hand. “Thanks.”

He shook my hand. “You’re a little hothead,” he said. I chuckled, as I walked into the locker room, and I remembered Wade’s name for me.

I made the team, and so did the good defenseman. They gave us forms to fill out and shit, and we had to shell out some bucks, so I got that done. “You need a nickname, Carrswold.”

“Volcano,” I said, chuckling to myself.

I picked the locker next to Cam, and then walked out front with him, smiling. “You made it,” he said.

“Told you I would,” I said being cocky. “You wanna spend the night?”

“I want to, but I can’t,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Dude, you have a life,” I said, hiding my disappointment. “Maybe we can do something tomorrow?”

“I work tomorrow night,” he said. “I’ll call you after I get off.”

“I’ll get you off after you get off,” I teased. “Come on, the car can take you home.”

“I’m good,” he said. He gave me a quick kiss, and then walked off toward the train station.

I pulled out my phone and called Wade. “Hey,” he said, but not with his normal enthusiasm.

“Hey,” I said. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he said, sounding distant.

I waited for him to ask me how I was, but he didn’t. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just trying to figure shit out,” he said.

“You’re not mad at me, are you? I mean, I thought we were good.” He was acting really strange, and it was disturbing.

“I’m not mad at you, Matt,” he said. “I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking.”

“Dude, you are totally freaking me out. Now I’m worried about you.”

“I told you I’m fine,” he snapped. This was so completely out of character, it was really upsetting.

“Look Wade, you’re not acting like you usually do. I’m just worried about you. Don’t get pissed off at me.”

“Can I just talk to you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I said, like I had a choice. “Guess what I did today?”

“I have no idea.” I ignored his attitude.

“I played hockey,” I said. “Made the team.”

“So it’s like you’re still in college,” he said.

“Seriously? You’re busting my balls for playing hockey? Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I need to talk to you tomorrow.”

“Call me,” I said, and then we ended the call.

 

August 11, 2002

Chicago, IL

 

I sat in the limousine, waiting for the jet to land at Meigs. Brad, Stef, JP, and Will were coming to visit, which would have been nice if I wasn’t in such a bad mood. Most of that was Wade’s fault. He’d said he would call me back, and he did, but he wasn’t any happier, and our call wasn’t any more pleasant. But it was worse than that, because I kept thinking about our first conversation after I made the team. When I told him that I was playing hockey, he’d made that smart-ass remark about me still being in college.

That had blown by me at first, but then I’d thought about it, and I’d gotten what he was saying. When we’d had our massive problems last year, Frank had busted my balls and told me to quit the hockey team. He told me that it made me an asshole, and made me immature. Is that what Wade thought?

And that had made me really think about my life, and where I was, and when I did that, I wasn’t happy. I was here in Chicago, with my apartment well on its way to being done, and with plans to start school next month. I had a built-in group of friends with Cam and the hockey team, and I’d have limitless opportunities to meet guys at Spartacus. All should be well, but it wasn’t. I hadn’t really put it all together until yesterday, when I was jogging down Michigan Avenue and I saw a guy running in the other direction, pushing one of those jogging baby strollers. I looked at the baby, so cute and so vulnerable, and I remembered how cool it had been when Riley and Maddy had been born. But when they’d been born, I’d been such a fucking idiot. I hadn’t really grasped how cool that was, and how important it was. I wondered if Riley had been my son, if I’d have acted differently.

That brought on a whole new tortuous train of thought. Did I treat Riley like I should have? Like he was my son too? He may have Wade’s genes, but we’d conceived him together. I should be engaged. I should be like that father who was jogging down the street. I should be, but I wasn’t. I’d gone into ego-defense mode, and had convinced myself that it wasn’t my fault, that we’d lived apart from them, and now they were moving to Boston with Wade. But it hadn’t taken me long to shred my own arguments.

And now there was going to be another baby. This one could be Wade’s, or it could be mine, but that was just genetics. We’d fucked Tiffany together. We’d conceived this baby together. This baby was our baby. This baby was my baby. And whereas I’d totally missed that point with Riley, I got it now. I got it, and it seared through me like a shot of tequila. So I’d spent yesterday and today alone, blowing off Cam, and avoiding the bars. I’d gone into my proverbial cave, and I’d come out with a whole new plan, and a whole new purpose.

The plane landed and pulled up to the FBO, so the limo zipped out onto the tarmac. I got out of the car, and watched as the door opened. Stef was the first one out, of course. He came gliding down the stairs, smiling at me until he saw my fake grin. “Welcome to Chicago,” I said.

“It is good to see you,” he said, and I gave him a big hug. JP was next, so I gave him a similar greeting.

“Hey,” Brad said, and really gave me a warm hug. He pulled away from me and looked concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk,” I said, but before I expanded on that, I focused on Will. “You OK?”

His eyes belied the sadness he felt. “I’m OK,” he said.

“What’s going on with Wade?” I asked.

“After you left, he and Alex went up to the City for a couple of days,” Will said. “They came back, and left for Boston.”

I looked at them, asking for more information, when Brad finally obliged me. “Alex went back to England yesterday.”

“Wade was acting really weird. Is he alright?” No one said anything. “God damn it, someone tell me what the fuck is going on! I’m worried about him.”

“He really didn’t talk to anyone,” JP said. “Other than what you’ve heard here, the only thing I know is that he went to see David.”

“I need to go to Boston,” I said, looking at them, and at the plane.

“Now?” Brad asked.

“Now,” I said firmly. They looked at me, and each other, but it wasn’t surprising that help came from one of my most reliable sources.

“Let’s go,” Will said, and started to climb back up the stairs. I grabbed my backpack from the limo and followed him, and heard the others clomping up behind me. The pilot met us at the door. “Change of plans. We’re going to Boston.”

He looked past Will to Stef for confirmation, since they were in his Falcon, and with a subtle nod, Stef validated our plan. “I’ll file the flight plan.”

“Thanks,” I said. We sat in the captain’s chairs and pivoted them so we formed what was loosely a circle.

“While I am certainly amenable to an abrupt change of plans,” JP said, “and I have grown quite used to them,” he added, looking at Stef and Will, “I would appreciate it if you would enlighten us as to what we are doing.” Stef and Will rolled their eyes at him.

I focused on Stef. “I am really worried that I’m going to make you mad.”

“I think that is very unlikely,” he said, giving me his warm smile.

“You’ve invested a shitload of money in the apartment here for me,” I said. “And even more than that, you’ve invested your time and your energy, and even more valuable than that, your talent.”

“I am happy to help you out,” Stef said. “I do not see why that would make me angry.”

“Because after all that you did to build this place out, I’m not going to live here. And after all you did to get me into the University of Chicago, I’m not going to go there,” I said.

“Then where are you going to live?” Will asked.

“Boston.”

Copyright © 2014 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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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.
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Another cliff-hanger, really? :)

I'm glad to see Alex out of the picture, permanently I hope--but I'm wondering if the main reason isn't that Matt was out of the picture by being in Chicago? I don't think the ring was a huge factor, if he even knew, because despite what he said, he could not marry Wade and keep his family happy. Without Matt, Wade would quickly become too bland, so Alex didn't want to settle for that...not that Wade would have wanted Alex to sleep with anyone else but Matt.

I'm beginning to think that Will is finally getting to a point where Zach is too high-maintenance for the long term...just waiting to see what next hare-brained idea he comes up with to hide behind must be stressing Will to the point of no return, and we all know that Will needs stability in his life to keep himself together.

I am not surprised at Matt wanting to go to Boston now, but I hate to think what will happen to him there; I can see Wade resenting his wanting to be there now when he didn't for Riley, and the comment about playing hockey just shows how much work Wade needs to do on his own psyche! I can't see Matt and Wade being permanent until Wade also matures--feeling responsibility for his son isn't proof of emotional maturity--just an indicator that Wade knows what his duty is...a big difference in my opinion.

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On 08/03/2014 09:51 AM, ColumbusGuy said:
Another cliff-hanger, really? :)

I'm glad to see Alex out of the picture, permanently I hope--but I'm wondering if the main reason isn't that Matt was out of the picture by being in Chicago? I don't think the ring was a huge factor, if he even knew, because despite what he said, he could not marry Wade and keep his family happy. Without Matt, Wade would quickly become too bland, so Alex didn't want to settle for that...not that Wade would have wanted Alex to sleep with anyone else but Matt.

I'm beginning to think that Will is finally getting to a point where Zach is too high-maintenance for the long term...just waiting to see what next hare-brained idea he comes up with to hide behind must be stressing Will to the point of no return, and we all know that Will needs stability in his life to keep himself together.

I am not surprised at Matt wanting to go to Boston now, but I hate to think what will happen to him there; I can see Wade resenting his wanting to be there now when he didn't for Riley, and the comment about playing hockey just shows how much work Wade needs to do on his own psyche! I can't see Matt and Wade being permanent until Wade also matures--feeling responsibility for his son isn't proof of emotional maturity--just an indicator that Wade knows what his duty is...a big difference in my opinion.

I don't think Wade's problem is a lack of maturity, I think his problem is confusion. He thought he'd found his soul mate with Matt, and then Matt crushed him after 9-11. Wade likes his world to be ordered, and the was a tumultuous change. Then he starts to work his way back to Matt, with a lot of caution based on what he's been through, and he meets Alex, who seems perfect for him. Only he's not. So does Wade stick with Alex, stick with Matt, or just focus on being a single guy? I think I'd have a tough time with that.
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Mark,

 

thank you for a really good chapter!

 

after reading your responses to reviewers, I believe Matt is moving to Boston to be there for new baby and to reconnect with Riley as father as he realized he should have done that long time ago. Never too late, right?

 

I'm looking forward to read what happened with Alex. I recalled in previous reviews, you mentioned that Alex is not an evil guy, right?

 

Your devoted reader,

 

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On 08/04/2014 05:12 AM, SupermanSavesYou said:
Mark,

 

thank you for a really good chapter!

 

after reading your responses to reviewers, I believe Matt is moving to Boston to be there for new baby and to reconnect with Riley as father as he realized he should have done that long time ago. Never too late, right?

 

I'm looking forward to read what happened with Alex. I recalled in previous reviews, you mentioned that Alex is not an evil guy, right?

 

Your devoted reader,

Thanks for the review!

 

I make no guarantees about Alex's evilness, but I will say that I don't think that he's been evil so far.

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The curse of the gay male; the ability to never grow up. You can act like life is one big frat party.... until the twinks stop responding to you in the clubs and suddenly you've become that which you used to mock and deride with your friends, the older gay male desperately trying to hang on to youth and relevance. If you don't have Stefan Schluter or David Geffen money, you eventually cross the Rubicon.

Gay men didn't use to have the normal markers of life; marriage, then kids, then teens, then college kids, then weddings, then grandkids, as so on as the cycle goes. That is changing and has been changing, but in 2002, that was not the norm. There were more party boys then not, even those in grad school, except the med school guys. I lost more friends to drugs, choking to death on their own vomit, than I did to AIDS.

Matt at 22 is already a father and about to have his second child. He's finally come to the realization that it really is time to grow up. I think Cam will be an easy issue for Matt to handle. Tell him the truth. Matt does not know what his status or future is with Wade, but the epiphany he has had is about his children, his responsibility and the need to be in their life. Cam will understand and appreciate that.

Pawk da caw, Matt is Boston bound.

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2 hours ago, PrivateTim said:

The curse of the gay male; the ability to never grow up. You can act like life is one big frat party.... until the twinks stop responding to you in the clubs and suddenly you've become that which you used to mock and deride with your friends, the older gay male desperately trying to hang on to youth and relevance. If you don't have Stefan Schluter or David Geffen money, you eventually cross the Rubicon.

It's funny, because I never really did the (gay) club thing at all in my 20's- much more likely to just hang out at tavern type bars. Still basically true as I'm now approaching 40. When I have gone, I'm pretty much only there to dance my ass off to some Abba or Whitney Houston. Sometimes some straight girl will grind up on me and it's fun, but I'm good dancing by myself. Going to a gay bar with the hope of trying to hook up with someone feels like chasing a unicorn, one that gets harder and harder to catch the less you can be called a "boi." 

 

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