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- 03/17/2015
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Song and Dance - 4. Chapter 4 I Can See Clearly Now
Song and Dance
Chapter 4
Chet felt like he was floating as he walked back over to the couch. That man was everything he had ever dreamed of. Except for the idiotic mix-up at the beginning, the night couldn’t have gone any better. He knew it wasn’t his imagination either. He saw the same thing he felt reflected in Arron’s expressive gray eyes. The element of un-believability in their connection was balanced by years of sifting through the false projections people sent out. There was no falseness in Arron Bailey. He would stake his life, no, he would stake his heart on it. A timid knock on the door brought Chet out of his reverie. He bolted to it, figuring Arron had forgotten something, or maybe just wanted one last kiss to tide him over. A broad smile lit his face as he opened his door with little-boy anticipation. The shock of seeing who was standing there rocked him, and the smile froze before turning into a grimace.
“Ian? What the fuck! Ian… Jesus, what are you doing here?” Chet’s heart leapt in his chest at the unexpected intrusion.
“Hey, Jets…uh, can I come in?” Meek and nervous was how Ian sounded, an oddity for his usually confident self. Chet was stunned. It had been over a year, and hearing that pet name was like a sharp dart to the heart. Anger bubbled up from deep within him, as he looked at that angelic face poised in his doorway. It took all his effort to control and utilize his voice, and resist the urge to slam the door in the man's face.
“No, you can’t come in. It’s not a good idea. I don’t know why you would even come here after all this time. I’m sorry, but you’re the last person I want to see right now.” An image of Arron’s handsome face flashed before his eyes.
“Please? I really need to talk to you. It’s important.” Chet caught the smell of alcohol drifting in the air as Ian was speaking. “Please, I know you hate me, but give me a chance to talk and then I’ll go.” The sudden tears spilling out of the man's eyes were Chet’s undoing as his resolve weakened a bit, but didn’t go away.
“Christ, Ian, this had better be good. Come in and say what you got to say. Just how drunk are you, anyway? Did you drive here?”
“Yes, I drove here, and I know it was stupid. I’m not drunk, Jets. I just had to work up some courage to do this.”
Chet shook his head at the recklessness of Ian to be drinking and driving. “Don’t call me that.”
“What do you mean… call you what?” Chet led them into the living room and pointed to the couch for Ian, while he sat down across from him in the overstuffed armchair.
“Jets. Don’t call me Jets. I’m not him anymore. I’m Chet… you got that?”
“Sorry, Je… Chet. It’s what I’ve always called you, it just feels weird to call you anything else.”
“I don’t care what it feels like. Now what the hell do you mean by showing up here? You’ve got no right to do that; you should have called first.”
“I don’t have your number, Jets… fuck, sorry, Chet.” Ian was looking a little ill.
“That’s bullshit. My number’s listed, so cut the crap, and spit it out. What do you want?” This was felt very surreal as he fought to keep control. His anger was making him feel almost unhinged. Ian’s face and words had tortured him since the night he was dismissed like yesterday’s garbage, and tonight of all nights, he was sitting in a room that still sang with Arron’s presence.
“Um… can I have a glass of water. I don’t feel so good.”
Shunting his anger aside to inspect that remarkable face, the one Ian made a living off of, he could see the truth of his words. His anger dissipated as he noted the paleness of his sweat-slicked skin. “What’s wrong with you? Have you taken something? Ian?”
“I had a few drinks… and I took a couple of oxy to calm me down before I came here. I don’t think they’re mixing well. I’m kind of nervous, and my stomach’s upset. I think I need to use your washroom.” It looked like vomiting was fast becoming a certainty, so Chet hurriedly showed him where it was and stood outside the door, listening to the sounds of retching. His anger lessened as he came to the conclusion that his former boyfriend's presence in his home couldn’t cause him any more damage than it had already. The past could only hurt him if he let it.
“Do you need to go to the hospital? I don’t want to take any chances.” Memories came back of babysitting the man while he was high on something or other. It hadn’t happened often, but it was a concern back then. There was no answer, but he could hear the sound of running water and sputtering noises indicating Ian was rinsing his mouth out and washing his face. Chet took that as a good sign. Coming through the doorway, the man looked marginally better.
“I’m okay now. I don’t need a hospital, and I’m sorry I showed up like this. I’ve been thinking about doing this for a long time, and my nerves got the best of me. Can I lay down for a bit and maybe we can talk about why I’m here?” A nervous swallow accompanied the request.
Chet allowed himself to stare at this boy/man he used to love with all his heart. He was still that same guy, still strikingly handsome, more on the beautiful side, with the same heart-stopping musculature, all smooth, vascular and defined, and achieved with only moderate effort. But he looked at him differently now. Chet had changed. Arron may not be on magazine covers, but he was every bit as beautiful… even more so because of what glowed from the inside. Ian wasn’t a bad person, but he'd proved to be what Chet didn’t want in a partner. Still, there was no denying the impact his looks had on those who saw him... but they no longer affected him, and he felt great satisfaction in the realization.
“You can lie down on the couch for a bit and we can talk.” He resigned himself to the fact this was happening whether he liked it or not.
“Thank you. Again, I’m sorry, but it’s really good to see you.” Ian sighed as he curled up in the corner of the couch. “You look better than ever… I missed you so much.”
“I’ll make you some mint tea. That should help you feel better.” Chet walked out into the kitchen feeling very uncomfortable with the vibes he was getting from his ex. He’d been staring at Chet with a hungry look he knew well. His heart sped up at the thought of what might be coming… what he might be facing. The beep from his phone on the counter notified him of a new text.
Night, green eyes!
Chet smiled at the warm feeling that gave him. He sure liked this guy… a lot!
Night, wolf!
????
You have eyes like a wolf… so beautiful
Big grin-sweet dreams
Big grin back-sweet dreams back xo
xo
The text connection was just what he needed in order to face the guy on his couch and whatever he had to say. If he could help Ian with whatever he wanted from him, he would. But he would not be lured into having sex with him. He had something very new, but his gut told him to do whatever he could to keep it... protect it. Tea made, he headed back into the living room to find his unwelcome guest dozing. Not sure how to handle it, Chet accepted that he couldn’t send the man out to drive when he was in such a condition. He sighed as he put the tea down and that little noise caused Ian’s bright blue eyes to open wide.
“Sorry about that, Jets. I must have dozed off.” He struggled to sit up, propping himself in the corner of the large leather couch, somehow managing to look small and innocent when Chet knew he was neither. Reaching for his tea, his hand jumped when Chet spoke.
“So why are you here, and no bullshit, okay?” Chet was getting tired, and just wanted to sleep.
“No bullshit? Okay then… I made the biggest mistake of my life when I let you go. I want you back, Jets.” The tears came then, and the trembling started as Ian watched for Chet’s reaction. There was none. “I’m really messed up. I keep fucking up and I haven’t been happy since you left me.”
“I didn’t leave you. You left me. You dumped me so you could fuck around and live some more. Remember, Ian? You're the one who walked away! You’re crazy if you think I could ever trust you again.” Chet's initial reaction was shock, but it quickly changed to feeling pissed.
“I didn’t think you would move away," he whined. "I needed a little more time to figure things out.”
“You needed time to fuck other guys, you mean.” It was vicious, but Chet was long past caring.
“That’s not true. I didn’t fuck anyone else for months after you were gone.”
The cold stare Chet leveled at Ian caused him to sit back in the corner of the couch again. “Do you remember my father’s watch, the one I’d left at that house you were renting with those reject friends of yours?”
A nervous looking Ian nodded.
“Three nights after you walked out of our new apartment, I went to get it back. Do you know what I saw?”
Ian didn’t move a muscle, other than his eyes widening.
“I saw you fucking Brent, or rather, Brent fucking you. The guy you told me was just a friend. For months you said he was only a friend. Were you fucking all your friends?” Chet could actually see the process of Ian mentally scrambling for a response to that question.
“No, of course not. That was more or less a one-time thing. I was really messed up, and I needed to feel close to someone, that’s all. Look, baby, I made some mistakes but I want to change. You and I were so happy once. You were good for me. I need you back in my life. We could have that life you always said you wanted. We could get a nice place in the city. I have some money saved up… I’ve been getting a lot of work. It would be really good, baby. You’ve always been such a good influence on me.”
“Jesus, you’re a piece of work. Can you hear yourself? ‘You need me. I’m good for you. I’m a good influence on you.’ Nowhere in that little speech did you mention love. You’re looking for a daddy, not a partner,” Chet spit out in disgust. “You had over a year to contact me. You’re way too fucking late!”
“Please, Jets, I’ll do anything you want, just please give us a chance. I do love you. We can make this work, baby. I know we can.” The old, hurt Chet might have bought Ian’s pitch, his lies… the new one, the one who still felt Arron in the room, didn’t.
“Would you move in here with me?” Chet asked, but he already knew the answer.
“Well, baby, I have to stay in the city. That’s where my work is… all my contacts.” Ian was thinking he had won and Chet witnessed the fleeting look of triumph..
“Well... this is where my work is.”
“You could commute, or get another job in the city. Your old place would probably take you back.”
Chet marveled at the oblivious transparency of this man he used to love. "You could commute too, right?'
“But all my friends are in the city. I can’t leave my friends… the village. Don’t you want to come back home?” Sure enough, the pout Chet remembered so well made its appearance. There was a time when Chet thought it was cute. Now it just looked pathetic and manipulative.
“No, this is home for me now. I don’t belong in the village anymore, and I don’t even like it there.”
“We could at least try to work it out... make some compromise or something. I know we can do this.” There was a tinge of panic in the words.
“No, we can’t, and frankly I’m done talking about it. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.”
“Is there someone else? Is that why you won’t give me another chance?” The waterworks were turned on again as the idiot refused to concede defeat.
“No, that’s not why. You and I are done. We have nothing in common anymore. The past is the past, so just let it go. I know you, and in a week you’ll be fine.” Chet ignored the tears. All he wanted to do was go to bed and dream about gray eyes and a warm, beautiful smile. “Blankets and pillows are in the hall closet. You can sleep on the couch. I have to leave at seven in the morning, so you need to be gone by then. I’m sorry you wasted a trip.”
The sound of sobbing accompanied Chet’s trip down the hallway to his bedroom. He shut it out when he closed his door behind him. The whole drama had an ugly feel to it. Chet sighed as he thought about how wrong he'd been. He knew now they never would have gone the distance if they had stayed together. It wouldn’t have been possible, with Ian, to have that equal partnership Chet craved. The man had tossed a lie out so easily tonight, Chet wondered how many there had been during their relationship. What he’d thought was real had only been another song and dance. Yeah, it was a sad conclusion to reach, but there was relief too. Watching Ian from a position of distance, it was clear Chet had dodged a bullet. He had fallen for the outer package of a man with good acting skills Lined up against a person, a man like Arron… there was no comparison. Sliding under the luxuriously soft down comforter, he let visions of the exotic-looking man with the eyes of a wolf comfort him. “Good night Arron,” he whispered into the cool night air of his darkened room as a feeling of hope eased him into sleep.
Something was wrong. Climbing upwards from the depths of slumber, Chet took a minute to orient himself to wakefulness. The dawning of it brought the disturbing realization he was not alone. The weight of the arm lying over his torso and the soft breaths puffing the hair on the back of his head served notice that his private domain had been violated. The resentment he felt was enormous. Ian had no right to slip into his bed. Calling out Ian’s name and shaking him was a waste of time; he was sleeping the comatose sleep induced by the mix of drugs and alcohol. Agitated and angry, Chet got up and headed out to the couch to regain the solitude that was rightly his. His consolation was that he would soon be gone from his home. The next couple of hours consisted of fits and starts of restless sleep, interspersed with thoughts and dreams of Arron.
Chet was thoroughly disgusted and had lost all patience. Showered, dressed and ready for work, he had been unable to rouse Ian from his bed. Finally reaching the point where enough was enough, he shook him to semi-consciousness and pulled him up and over to the edge of the bed. When the comforter fell away, it became apparent he had deliberately crawled into Chet’s bed naked, a fact that had escaped Chet’s notice during the night, and that one part of him was not at all asleep. The sight only served to make Chet angrier as he threw the comforter over Ian’s lap.
“For fuck’s sake, Ian. Get the fuck up! It’s time for you to leave!” The yelling appeared to work as Ian was suddenly wide awake. “I have to leave now… get the fuck up! What the hell were you doing, getting into my bed in the first place? You had no business doing that.”
Those crocodile tears made another appearance. “I’m sorry, Jets. I was cold and I just wanted to… I’m sorry, okay?”
Chet was bristling, but he needed to let it go. What was done was done. “Okay, look. I have to go now. Grab a shower and then you can leave. Lock the door and pull it closed behind you. Can you fucking do that?”
“Yeah, I will.”
He looked so forlorn Chet couldn’t help feeling some pity for him. "Ian... you'll be fine once you get back to the village. Just... hurry up."
“Do you think we could talk again? I know I fucked up last night and I went about it all wrong. I want to be with you so bad, so can we please talk some more?”
As pissed off as he was, Chet knew there was nothing to be gained by being hurtful. “Look, I do care about you as a person, but there’s no point to any more talking. Let’s just leave the past where it belongs. You go back to Toronto, where you’re happy… and I’ll stay here, where I’m happy. We both moved on a long time ago and there’s no going back. Trust me. It would never work. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. You can’t blame me for trying.” He gave a weak little smile through his tears, and Chet gave one back. “Can I have a hug goodbye?” Without waiting for an answer, he stood up and grabbed a hold of Chet and hung on to him fiercely. Chet returned it reluctantly, feeling like embracing his naked ex was cheating on Arron. The naked man showed no signs of letting go, so Chet gently pried his arms away, told him to take care of himself, left the bedroom, and then the apartment.
Please join us in the COTT forum where we can discuss Song and Dance (SAD) with a bunch of interesting characters:
www.gayauthors.org/forums/topic/39932-cards-on-the-table-by-headstall/
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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.
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