Shattering - 9. Chapter 9 - Reset

There was a knock on the door.

 

My door.

 

My new office door. It was still hard to think of it this way. I guess that’s to be expected since I’ve only been back on the job for three days. That and the fact that this used to be Steve’s office, a place of irritation, frustration and dread for the year and a half before I lost my old job to the recession and that bastard’s malice. At least Alec and Judy, the materiel manager, had agreed that we could make some changes to this space, given my grievances. A new desk, some new window blinds, a different coat of paint on the walls and a bookshelf for my design references would work wonders. I snorted. Steve never kept a shred of reference material around, as if he was somehow above reviewing theory and keeping up with current trends. Maybe that’s part of why Santosh and I were the ones the clients asked for, not him. I shouldn’t discount that Steve was also an asshole. With his attitude, I’m surprised we didn’t lose some of our bigger clients.

 

I took a deep breath, stood up and moved around the desk. I knew who it was at the door. It was time to meet my new minion. I opened the door, greeting Laleh and the guy they’d hired to replace Santosh with a small smile.

 

“Hi David! Callum, this is your new supervisor David Templeton. David, this is Callum Edwards,” Laleh introduced us happily.

 

The young man before me smiled widely, his bright blue eyes contrasting sharply with his undercut pompadour-styled medium-blonde hair. He had on a clean white and navy pin-striped shirt with beige khakis, a navy and pink diagonal striped tie, and light brown leather loafers on his feet. A navy canvas messenger bag was slung over his shoulder. Good sense of style. He was a couple inches shorter than me - probably 5’9" - and had a lean build. He shook my hand with a gentle firmness that I appreciated - it suggested friendliness and respect without unnecessary machismo or limp weakness. Fuck, he was gorgeous.

 

“It’s great to meet you, Mr. Templeton. I’m looking forward to working together.”

 

I smiled and nodded politely. “I am as well. Just call me David, though.”

 

“Well, now that we’ve finished your general company orientation, Callum, I’m going to leave you with David. Don’t hesitate to come find me if you have any questions about anything we discussed this morning. I think the two of you are going to get along great!” Laleh gushed, clasping her hands together. “Take care of him, David. I’m sure once you see his work you’ll agree he’s quite the catch. We definitely don’t want this one running away, ha ha ha!”

 

I laughed, half nervously. ‘Quite the catch’? Jesus, was she just clueless or uncaring? It’s the guy’s first day and he’s already getting hit with a comment that could be construed as borderline sexual harassment!

 

“Don’t worry, Laleh. I’m sure things will be fine. See you later.”

 

“Ciao!”

 

I let out the large sigh of exasperation I was holding in the moment she was around the corner. Callum chuckled from beside me.

 

“She’s a bit much sometimes.”

 

“Yeah, she’s something else,” Callum agreed. “She was very nice, though.”

 

“She’s genial almost to a fault. It’s not an act, though. According to a few people I know, she’s just one of those strange people who are genuinely happy most of the time. I hope she didn’t completely exhaust you.”

 

Callum smiled. “Nah, I’m alright. I’ve been pretty hyped that I got this job, so between that and first-day jitters I’m riding high.”

 

Hmm, admitting he’s a little nervous? Emotional honesty. I like that.

 

“Did Laleh show you where you’ll be working?”

 

Callum nodded. “She showed me the area, but she didn’t know where my desk would be.”

 

“Alright. I’ll take you over there and then we can head for lunch.” I turned and began to guide him up the hall to the design work area. “I know it’s only 11:30, but I’m already starving and I bet you are too.”

 

Callum shrugged. “I’m okay with whatever you’d like to do, Boss.”

 

I halted, turning to look at him. His eyes widened with worry. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean- I mean, I won’t call you that if you don’t like it David.”

 

I chuckled, shaking my head. “It’s fine, Callum. Just not anything I’m used to anyone calling me yet. Thinking about it, it’s actually kind of endearing.”

 

Callum breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. Thanks David. I really don’t want to screw this up.”

 

We arrived at his workstation. “Well, this is where you are going to be doing the majority of your work,” I indicated. “The others on the team are all around you. We’ll meet them after lunch. Deanna and Will are in meetings with a couple of our clients, and Tasha needed to take the morning off to sort out some family issues. Something about her sister.”

 

Callum nodded and set his messenger bag down on the chair. He ran a hand over the desk. He bit his lip, looking nervous again.

 

“Things will be fine, Callum,” I reassured him “They wouldn’t have hired you if they didn’t think you could handle the job. I finally got to see your portfolio yesterday, and I’m impressed. The work you did on your college internship gets an A-grade from me.”

 

His cheeks coloured a touch. “Uh, thanks Boss. I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

 

“I’m sure things are going to work out great. Just don’t let my compliments get to your head. I don’t know how much leeway that you had at your internships, but for now you are going to be working pretty closely with Deanna, Will, Tasha or myself on your projects. It’s not to say that we don’t have faith in you, we just want you to have good mentorship and we want you to see things from a variety of perspectives. The four of us all approach our work a bit differently so I’m hoping you’ll get some insights that will help you build your own creative voice. You’re just a youngin’ fresh out of college, after all,” I explained, grinning at the end.

 

“I’m not that young!” he protested.

 

I chuckled. “I know, twenty-five seems old to you, since you did that degree in art history first. That’s pretty cool if you ask me.”

 

He sighed. “Yeah, well tell that to the rest of the world. I did well enough, but I realized I wasn’t all that interested in working in a gallery or in restorations. I probably could have gone on to grad school, but my thesis professor was constantly complaining about the lack of funding for grad students in our field and how the faculty positions were shrinking and not being replaced. It completely turned me off even trying. I mean, who wants to spend another six to eight years of their life working their ass off to get a PhD and come away with no solid job prospects?”

 

“Yeah, I can understand how discouraging that would feel. A lot of us in this field moonlight as artists in one fashion or another but it’s never enough to pay the bills. Around here, Will draws some amazing comics and Deanna’s watercolours are breathtaking. Tasha is more into artistic photography, mostly nude and semi-nude body works. I used to do a lot of drawing but…” I paused.

 

I used to draw. I used to draw a lot. People, places, things. But some time over the past few years the inspiration faded. Picking up the pencils and charcoals became forced labour instead of love. It was like my well dried up, and I haven’t been able to dig deep enough or find a new place to draw water. Not since my father died.

 

“Well, life’s gotten in the way, I guess,” I completed my thought. “I’m sure I’ll be back to it in the future. I just need the right push, the right inspiration to come along,” I said smiling weakly, as much for my own benefit as for Callum’s.

 

“Alright, let’s head out for lunch. Do you like ramen? There’s a great place around the corner and since we’re leaving a bit early we can hopefully beat the rush and get a good table.”

 

Callum nodded vigorously. “I love ramen. Let’s do it!”

 

I chuckled at his enthusiasm. Still so young.

 

We headed down to ground level and made our way out into the street. It was a beautiful day, only a few clouds in the sky and a gentle breeze.

 

Lunch was great. Callum ordered a simple Sapporo-style miso ramen with pork cutlets, while I went for a spicy soy ramen with charred vegetables and minced pork. We shared a plate of gyoza and had a couple beer as well. I found Callum to be smart and articulate, but easy-going. They were qualities, along with the enthusiasm he’d shown, that I hoped would help him form good relationships with clients and draw much repeat business. He was a little astonished and unsure what to do when I insisted on paying for his lunch, which was a little charming. It seems he has done a lot of part-time work both in high school and during his education to do his best to be independent. He wasn’t used to people paying for him, apparently. Definitely not a spoiled brat.

 

When we arrived back at the office, he seemed to get on well with the rest of the team. All of us were quite a bit older than him. It felt a little strange that I was the one closest in age to him, and further that I was the supervisor of the department, even though my colleagues had been around longer. I learned over the past couple days that, much to my relief, there were no hard feelings from any of them. None of them had applied for Steve’s job, and they all reassured me that they were very happy I was the one picked to lead the team.

 

I let everyone go home early, partly because getting to know Callum had been a bit exhausting even if it was pleasant, and partly because my team (my team!) had been working really hard the last two weeks for two big clients. Will and Deanna finished up with one today and Tasha finished with the other on Tuesday. Knowing those two clients, all of them deserved a bit of a break. Maybe even a day off if I can swing it for them next Friday. Those particular clients are difficult to work with but have been big repeat business for us over the years. We had their loyalty and we wanted to keep it, even if it meant we had to work a little harder and deal with a bit more pickiness and fickle moments on their part. Truth be told, the other reason I let everyone go early today was that I just needed some space. I closed my office door for a few minutes, shutting the lights off and sitting down with my head resting on my arms on the desk. Closed my eyes. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

 

Why was I feeling so overwhelmed? It’s not like anything special had been happening this week in terms of projects - not mine, anyway. Tasha, Deanna and Will didn’t really need my help getting things done for their work other than a quick glance and approval. They’d been at this game long enough that they could mostly keep things together without much micromanagement. Really, they’d had to fend for themselves more than they should have under Steve’s watch and he’d been gone for a week and a half in which they had to do all the work dealing with these current clients on their own. It had not been a disaster. I had not walked into any huge messes on Monday. There were a few things I wasn’t completely happy with, but they were easily resolved. The clients had been happy with what they were getting, anyway, so even if I hadn’t have come in for another week I’m sure things would have been fine.

 

Maybe that’s why I’m feeling on edge - things went well without me here. They don’t need me. I mean, objectively I know that’s silly. Someone has to deal with the reporting and the distribution of work, and let’s not forget working as the major contact for clients about working coming out of our department. I’m also the one who would be coordinating any outside contracting when the team is swamped and we need something done, and keep track of budgeting related to that work. And now I’m going to be the one doing most of Callum’s training as well.

 

Callum. Fuck, he’s going to be a distraction. He’s total eye-candy, but he’s definitely straight. The boy might dress well, maybe even a touch metrosexual, but not even the slightest ping on my gaydar. Not that I should really rely on something like that. I mean, it’s not foolproof. But in his case it doesn’t matter. As I walked back to my office after telling everyone they could go home, I heard Deanna invite Callum out for a drink with her and Tasha but he turned them down, just for today. Something about heading home to rest before going to a concert at Lee’s Palace with someone named Laura. The girlfriend, most likely. A guy like him would have no trouble finding a nice one. Anyway, I guess I should be proud that I managed to not ogle him today. Not too much, anyway. I think I’ll be okay once I’m used to him being around. He’s no Mike, and… well, I’m definitely not reacting to Callum the way I react to Rain, either.

 

Rain?

 

Big. Fucking. Sigh.

 

Last weekend, after the party started to wind down Rain ended up staying for a late dinner along with Mark, Bobby, Miles, Mitch, and Emily. Everyone likes Rain. He’s had hang-outs with Mark, Bobby and Brian a few times both before and after Vicky’s costume party. He’s become a part of our circle of friends, for better or for worse. I guess I’m stuck putting up with those subtle smiles and caring eyes for the indefinite future.

 

Stuck?

 

I huffed.

 

The truth is, I feel a strong ambivalence about Rain. I feel ambivalent because I can’t seem to shake these feelings whenever I’m around him. I don’t like it. It scares me. And yet... Oh fuck, the truth is I want to be around him. I want him to be part of my life, of our lives. Mike adores him. I can see it in his eyes while they are interacting and… well, Rain seems to feel just as happy. I feel like I should feel threatened by the way they look at each other, but I don’t. I’m not sure what I’m seeing anymore. I just don’t understand it. Rain and Mike got talking about comics again after the game finished, which got Bobby involved as well - he’s our resident man-child in chief, after all. I think they could have carried on for hours, but Mike’s cell phone rang and he stepped into the kitchen to take the call.

 

When Mitch and Emily were getting ready to leave just after dinner, Mitch pulled me aside and asked me if I had time to meet up this week. He asked me not to tell Mike about it, though. I was a bit taken aback because it was unusual for him to ask me to meet up for lunch, let alone secretively. He gave me a pleading look after he saw suspicion crossing my face. I told him I’d check and let him know once I figured out my schedule at work. Despite my misgivings about the whole thing, we ended up going for lunch on Tuesday to a great little Syrian place he knows closer to his work. I was definitely curious about what he had to say, and why we needed to keep it from Mike.

 

Apparently that call Mike took on his cell phone was from his boss. Mitch happened to be emerging from the little bathroom near the kitchen and could overhear Mike pleading his case that he couldn’t come in to the office right then and there. Mitch said he felt guilty about eavesdropping, but he could hear Mike’s boss from where he was standing since the man was yelling into the phone. Mike was apparently supplicant but firm, and eventually told the man that he’d be in early Sunday and work until what needed to be done was finished.

 

It was close to 9pm by the time all of our guests had left and Mike and I were both exhausted. I wasn’t sure I had the energy to have the talk we needed to finish what we’d started in the morning. Mike got a little testy with me when I started cleaning up, saying that he should be the one to do it. It was still the day of my party, and I should take it easy. I bit my tongue, holding back a snippy retort by sheer force of will. I knew it was just my exhaustion getting the better of me, and it wouldn’t help get us out of the quagmire our relationship has become. I took a deep breath and told Mike that I didn’t mind helping. I was wondering - correctly, it turns out - if he would need to work a long day on Sunday since he’d spent the day at home and not done any work. If that was the case, then maybe he should be the one to just relax, take a bath and then head to bed.

 

Mike was caught off guard by that. Even as his eyes moistened with emotion, an unsteady smile grew across his face. He stepped up to me and hugged me tight, kissing me on the temple. He thanked me, burrowing his face into the crook of my neck and inhaling my scent. He thanked me for seeing what he was fretting about before he’d said anything, and for being considerate. Mike pulled back to look me in the eyes and told me that I should in no way feel obligated to finish what cleanup remained, but if I was going to do it then I should leave it until morning. He had done a fair amount of it in between bouts of taking care of our guests and conversing after the game had finished, and I had contributed some with some work in the kitchen while I was cooking, so there was likely less than a half hour of work left to finish, including a quick vacuum of the living room floor to pick up the crumbs that had inevitably fallen from all the food we ate.

 

He took my hand and led me upstairs. In the bedroom, we stripped one another of our clothes and got into bed. We held each other, our bodies drawn tight together beneath the sheets, as we exchanged languid kisses and caresses. After some time, Mike drew back, drawing me into the depths of his chestnut-brown eyes. I reached up and stroked a hand through his flaxen hair.

 

“David, I…” he began, swallowing. “I know we were hoping to have a talk tonight, since all we had time for this morning was… well, that difficult semi-apology on both our parts.”

 

“Mike, I don’t think either of us are in the right state of mind for this tonight,” I murmured, kissing him gently.

 

He nodded subtly, his expression clouding. “I just want… I want you to never have any reason to doubt that I love you. I know I keep fucking things up, but-”

 

I interrupted him with a soft kiss. “Mike, I’m not exactly helping the situation out, either. I’ve been insecure, and you saw the worst of it come out last night. I shouldn’t have let my emotions get the better of me. I shouldn’t have drank so much. And there were a lot of things that I said that I really wish I hadn’t...”

 

Mike shook his head. “We both said things that we regret. I know that. We need to have a long talk about my job, so you can understand why things are the way they are. It’s not simple, but I need you to understand and see things from my side. We need to-”

 

“Not tonight, Mike. I know, and I want us to talk about it, but not tonight. Right now I just want us to to try to start healing. I want us to show one another the love we share. It’s why we are both hurting so much, after all. It hurts because we love each other .”

 

“But it’s also what makes us stronger than this,” Mike interjected. He kissed me. “I love you so fucking much, David Ivar Templeton. I don’t want to be without you.”

 

“I love you too, Michael Ryan Andriessen. So fucking much. You are my whole world.”

 

We kissed passionately, achingly. My body was burning everywhere he touched me. I couldn’t help but whimper and moan as he began to work his way down my body. He knew all the right places, all the right ways. Soon, he’d taken my length into his mouth, teasing at first but then sucking me deep into his throat. It was not long before he brought me to a brilliant climax, by body shaking and sensitive for minutes on end. In that fog of bliss, I needed more. I needed to feel more of him, more connection, as deep as possible. I demanded that he fuck me. As we moved together, it felt as if my entire body began to sing in perfect harmony with Mike’s. We were melded, in tune, in sync, one. That’s the depth of our love. That’s how deeply I love him, and how deeply he loves me. We finished together, orgasming so hard that my vision washed over with stars and I lost touch with all real sensation from my body because I was feeling everything in that moment and-

 

There was a knock on my door, snapping me out of my reverie. I started to stand up to answer the door but dropped back into my chair when the hard-on I’d developed chose to assert its presence, straining against the front of my pants. “Uh, come in?” I called out, feeling my cheeks flushing.

 

God, I hope it’s not one of my bosses!

 

The door opened. It was just Vicky and Laleh. I let out a sigh of relief. Vicky raised an eyebrow at me.

 

“I take it you’re happy that it’s us?”

 

I chuckled. “I had a moment of panic that it was one of the bigwigs.”

 

“Nope, just us David!” Laleh cheered. “What are you doing with the lights off?”

 

My cheeks flushed deeper. “Uh, I was about to leave, actually.”

 

“Oh, cool. Did things go okay with Callum?”

 

“Yeah, I think he’ll be a good fit with us. He seemed to get along well with everyone. Now we just have to see how he performs.”

 

“I didn’t see anyone in the work area. Are they in a meeting?”

 

“Actually, I sent them all home early. Deanna, Will and Tasha all finished some big projects this week and there wasn’t really time to start working on something new with Callum.”

 

Vicky snapped her fingers, shaking her head in disappointment. “I knew I should have come by earlier. Guess I’ll have to catch him tomorrow. He is the new office eye candy after all.”

 

I groaned. “Seriously, Vicky?”

 

“Shut up, David. I’m sure you were looking too.”

 

“I plead the Fifth.”

 

“David, we live in Canada. There is no Fifth Amendment,” Laleh corrected, giggling.

 

“I’m well aware of that! Jeez, are Mark and Rain not doing their jobs well enough for you two nymphos?”

 

Vicky and Laleh cackled.

 

“Oh, Mark’s doing way more than alright!”

 

“Definitely no complaints here,” Laleh chorused. “Have you seen my boyfriend?”

 

“I see the Thirst is alive and well,” I commented dryly.

 

“You’d better get used to it. I have a feeling your work area is going to be getting lots of random visitors stopping by over the coming weeks. It will be just like when you first started here, David!” Vicky giggled.

 

“Oh God!” I put my face in my hands. My team was never going to get any work done. Never. I was going to have to erect a barrier between their open work area and the hallway and put up an opaque door. Something solid. Maybe steel blast doors?

 

“Come on David, it will be fine. You need to let us ladies have some fun once in awhile in this office. We have to take advantage of the little things whenever we’re thrown a bone,” Laleh snickered.

 

“And on that note, it’s time for me to head to the gym so Mike will throw me his bone.”

 

“Augh! TMI, David!” Vicky protested, waving her hands as if she was actually scandalized.

 

“You know you love it, bitch!” I sassed. Laleh just laughed at our antics.

 

“Well, I need to get going too. Rain and I have a dinner date.”

 

Rain. Right. Straight boy, see? Girlfriend. Girl he’s fucking. Right.

 

Ugh.

 

“Oooo! Where at?”

 

“Canoe!” Laleh gushed.

 

I tried not to look jealous. Canoe was an amazing restaurant, featuring some nimble and innovative dishes meant to reflect the diversity of Canada. It had always been on Mike and I’s to-try list, but we just haven’t gotten around to it yet. If we ever do...

 

“Be sure to say hi for us!” Vicky requested. I nodded in agreement, not trusting my voice in that moment.

 

We said our goodbyes and Laleh headed down to the Toronto Dominion Centre to meet up with Rain, while Victoria and I hopped onto the subway. We chatted idly until I disembarked at Wellesley station. The short walk over to the YMCA on Grosvenor St. brought me back into my thoughts and remembrances of last weekend.

 

I awoke on Sunday nestled snuggly in Mike’s arms. It was almost nine a.m., so I was incredibly surprised. He must have detected that I’d awakened, because he kissed the back of my neck a couple of times and pulled me tighter up against him. I could feel his hot morning erection against the small of my back. We made love again before showering, and then I fixed us some bacon-filled waffles slathered with maple syrup, and a side of blueberries and yogurt for brunch. We didn’t talk much. I think neither of us wanted to taint the blissful contentment of the moment. We are both smart enough to recognize that making love isn’t nearly enough to get things back on track, but it definitely helped reaffirm our bond.

 

Mike left just after 11:30, but he was unhurried. At the time it felt wonderful, but with Mitch’s revelation about the angry phone call from Mike’s boss during the party I can’t help but worry. Mike’s boss couldn’t have been happy with him if he told him he’d be there working early in the morning and then not show up. Mike did stay late, though. Very late. He called to tell me to go to bed around 11:00 and not wait up. He wanted me to be fresh and ready to go for my first day back at work. I agreed, slipped into my pyjamas, and sipped on a mug of steamed milk infused with lavender, vanilla and chamomile to relax me.

 

I awoke at quarter to 3 a.m. when Mike slid into bed beside me. I turned to face him. He looked exhausted and haggard. I cupped his cheek and asked him if he was okay. He shook his head, but said not to worry because it was worth it. We cuddled for awhile before both drifting off. I awoke in his arms again on Monday morning, and every morning since.

 

Sunday was a fresh start for us, it seems, and we both wanted to make the most of it. He told me that he isn’t going to get out of bed and sleep in the guest room anymore except as an absolute last resort. I asked him to wake me first, if I was getting really bad, and maybe we’d be able to fall asleep together a second time. I promised him that I would try to let go of my insecurities, and told him I hoped that being back at work would help ease my ruminations. We still haven’t had our big talk about his job and the hours yet, but we’re set to have a date on Saturday evening - our first in a long time - and he promised that we would discuss everything then.

 

I shook myself out of my reverie as I entered the YMCA, signed in, and headed for the change rooms. I planned on spending a bit of time in one of the squash/racquetball courts to get a bit of solo practice in before Rain and I start playing together. I was also considering asking Rain if he wanted to learn squash instead. We’d both be beginners and starting from a level playing field. Well, level if we have similar levels of coordination and athletic talent. Part of me wonders if Mr. Mägi isn’t also a talented athlete. It wouldn’t surprise me if he made leaps and bounds of progress and quickly surpassed any pathetic level of skill I could muster.

 

I sighed. Brady would be berating me right now if he were here. According to him I’m a lot better than I give myself credit for. It’s hard to accept, even now at 34, that all those years of taunting and being picked last during gym class in elementary and high school were as much a result of poor coaching on the part of my teachers as anything else. Brady insisted that if I’d been a part of the cross-country run team I’d have had the potential to be well ranked in the provincial high school standings. To me, running was just a hobby. While doing a road race sounded interesting and fun in theory, I’d never really had the motivation to enter into one. If Brady had been into long distance running, maybe I would have some day.

 

My time on the court was a mix of success and failure, with one particularly spectacular moment tripping over my feet and going ass-over-tea kettle onto the ground. To my mortification, there were a couple people watching through the glass. I chose that moment to quit before I really injured myself. As I stepped out of the court, the two guys who had been watching stepped up to me. One looked to be in his early forties, probably of Italian stock. The other was a short East Asian man - Korean maybe? I tried not to let my embarrassment get the best of me.

 

“Hi, I’m Mario Paglia and this is my buddy John Kim. Nice moves in there.”

 

I flushed as I shook both of their hands. “Eh… well, it’s been a long time. A friend of mine are going to start playing together and I wanted to get in a little solo time before I make even more of an ass of myself than I just did.”

 

The two men chuckled. “Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about. You were doing fine, actually, until you took that spill,” John noted, trying to reassure me.

 

“Would you guys be interested in joining the racquetball league here? It would give you some more variety than always playing together just the two of you. League days you usually end up playing a few matches over the course of 2 hours, and then we go out for some beers and grub with anyone who can come along that week,” Mario said.

 

I nodded. “It’s something I’ve thought about, actually, but I may need a while before I feel ready for that. I can’t speak for my friend Rain, though.”

 

“Well, let me give you my number. I’m actually the league coordinator, so just give me a call if and when you want to start up playing with us guys. We meet every Thursday night, but if you have to miss a week here and there it’s no big deal. Oh, they have some information pamphlets up at the front desk too.”

 

“Oh, so you guys are playing tonight?”

 

“Yeah. John and I sometimes stop by after work anyway just to kick back a bit. League play doesn’t start until seven, but neither of us are up for matches tonight anyway. Yeah, if you sign up there may be some weeks when you aren’t playing but usually the guys come out anyway to watch and cheer everybody on. We’re a pretty friendly bunch. We have people at all levels of skill, too, so we try to keep things level-to-level for the most part, but it’s always good to set up a tough match once in awhile. Everyone needs those chances to grow, or to be put in their place,” Mario explained, chuckling at the end. “We have a couple guys who are pretty good at coaching, too, and some people get them to help out with their game if they want extra help at improving.”

 

“Well, thanks Mario. It sounds like it would be something I’d enjoy. I’ll keep you posted if I decide league would be my thing.”

 

“You’re welcome to come out and give us a try before you commit to anything, too,” Mario added. “Just call me ahead of time so I can fit you into the match plan. You and your friend are welcome any time, if either or both of you are interested.”

 

I took his phone number and promised to get an info pamphlet from the front desk on my way out. After the pair had stepped into the court I stood and watched them for a few minutes. They were good. Mario did say that they tried to match people of similar skill levels, but I wonder how low they can set the bar for someone whose play is utter shit like me? I sighed, trying to rein in my self-doubts. Mario wouldn’t have encouraged me to join the league if he hadn’t seen something worth playing against, right? I mean I don’t know the man, but one would think that he wouldn’t have any reason to be insincere. That, or maybe they just want a loser to act as their punching bag whenever they have the desire to utterly crush someone into defeat.

 

I shook my head, pushing those thoughts aside as I headed to the locker room. I was sweaty and gross now. There was no way I was riding the subway all the way home without showering first. In late elementary school and high school, the gym’s locker room and showers was a place of terror for me. I didn’t come out until the winter of my last year of high school, well after I’d completed my mandatory gym classes, and I’m fairly glad I waited. I don’t want to think about what kind of shit would have went down if I was a known faggot, rather than just the subject of speculation due to my lack of many friends and lack of dating. I wouldn’t say I was bullied, not in high school, but there were always comments I’d here. Sometimes they were about me, whispered rumours that were or were not true, and often full of hyperbole. I especially enjoyed the rumour that went around the spring of Grade 11 that I wasn't dating any girls because I'd given my last girlfriend a vaginal tear because my cock was too fat. I'm proud of my dick, but it's definitely no Coke can. Other times the whispered rumours I heard were about other boys in the school. Other 'fags'. In a town as small as Dryden, I can guarantee you that 90% of those guys were straight. Just socially inept, or a little effeminate, or God only knows what they did to piss someone off to get the rumour going. I did my best to ignore it all, but the truth of the matter is that no matter how strong you are, no matter how self-assured you are, all of that bullshit is toxic. It gets to you, slowly eating away at you. Why else would I have been so very scared that Brady and my other roommates at Humber would hate me.

 

As much as the locker room used to draw me into a state of near paralytic anxiety as a teenager, I’ve gotten over it. I’m well passed the uncontrollable erections stage of my life, so that isn’t really an issue. I’m confident enough in myself to know how to quickly assess the locker room culture at a gym, and keep things under wraps. The sight of a nude male body doesn’t immediately drive me into a state of frenzied worry over a possible reaction - and react I do, sometimes. But now I know that I’m not the only one that plumps up a bit here and there in the locker room. I know I’m not the only one who looks and compares discretely - or not so discretely in the case of some guys. And I know enough now to realize that the people in any locker room represent a spectrum of sexuality, regardless of the fact that most of the men there would identify as ‘straight’ even if their dicks might indicate a hint of flexibility here and there.

 

Today was a bit of a treat. There was a quartet of well-muscled men, skin still glistening from the shower, standing nude in front of their lockers while chatting and chirping one another about the basketball game they had just played. Two of them were pretty average in the size department, but the one on the right was definitely hung. Even if he was a shower and not a grower he’d still be pretty impressive at full mast. The fourth man had his back turned to me, but that tight ass with a dusting of blonde hair was worth drooling over. Definitely not as hot as Mike’s, though. Further along was a thin but lithe looking young red-head, sitting on the bench in a tight pair of green trunks. He was rotating his right arm while holding his shoulder, seemingly nursing a strain of some sort, poor guy. A few lockers down from me were a couple silverhawks changing into swimsuits giving off a couple-ish vibe. It was in their eyes, the way they looked at one another while they kidded around, all smiles. It was discrete but at the same time so obvious. They both clearly took care of themselves, no sign of a paunch at all. I’ve never really had a thing for older men, but if I did that would be one hell of a threesome.

 

It took me a couple tries to get my lock open. It’s been around a year since I last used it so it’s not all that surprising that I’ve forgotten the little tricks to get it to work right. At least I remembered the combination, because I have no idea if I ever wrote it down anywhere. Fumbling with the lock shouldn’t have frustrated me as much as it did. I was perhaps a little rougher pulling my gym bag out of my locker than I should have been, especially when I chucked the lock into the bag which knocked the it off the bench and onto the floor, spilling the entire contents out everywhere. I'm sure they do an okay job cleaning but... Ugh. I don't want my clothing and the surfaces of all my showering and hygiene products covered with other guys' microbes. Gritting my teeth, I picked everything back up and took the lock back out. The stupidest thing about it all is that I needed to use the lock again to keep my belongings safe in the locker while I showered, anyway. I never needed to take the lock off the goddamned hook. Argh, that made me feel even more stupid.

 

I quickly stripped out of my sweaty gym clothes and put them in the compartment separate from my clean clothing. I shivered as I wrapped a towel around my waist, goosebumps creeping across my arms. The A/C in here was a little cooler than it should be considering a bunch of naked and half-naked guys were walking around in here. I trudged into the shower room and sighed. Apparently this gym didn’t have even semi-private shower stalls. Well, it was an old YMCA downtown, what else was I expecting?

 

I began washing myself under a spray of steaming hot water. I should want to be cooling off right now, but… I don’t know. I needed it, needed the heat. I clenched my hand around my shower pouf, staring down at the drain below me. With the water running off my forehead over my face, I couldn’t tell if the blurry heat was from the spray or from my own tears.

 

What the fuck is wrong with me right now?

 

Am I really this fucked up?

 

Am I really this scared that this isn’t a fresh start, that I’m just building another house of cards and not really beginning to cobble my life back together? Why do I feel like I somehow don’t deserve this, any of this? Why is it that everything just hurts?

 

I swallowed the lump in my throat, taking a deep breath and turning around so the spray was running down my back.

 

I’m better than this. Stronger than this. This is exactly the opportunity that I need. I have a solid base and all I have to do is build upwards. I have a job, a job where people trust me and respect my work. I have colleagues who I get along with. I have wonderful friends who have gotten me through thick and through thin. I have my Mom. I have Brady.

 

I have Mike.

 

I closed my eyes, smiling as I started soaping myself up. I have Mike. We are going to be stronger. I am going to stop being so needy. I am going to embrace my new job, get out with friends more, have fun with my running and playing racquetball with Rain - maybe even join the league here. I am going to be stronger, more resilient. I am going to stop this steady sink into codependency.

 

Yes, codependency. I've started to become codependent on Mike. No, I was well on my way into it. I won’t let this go any further, though. I don’t want our lives to be like that. I don’t want both of us trapped in a circle of blow-ups and make-ups because I’ve started to throw all my eggs into one basket, without realizing that the eggs are all stones and the basket isn't strong enough for all the weight. Mike is my soulmate, yes, but he’s not my entire support network. I know I can rely on him when I need him the most. I know he can rely on me. I’m going to stop retreating behind my walls and start talking again, talking to everyone. I need to open back up and let my problems and doubts go.

 

Opening my eyes as I turned back into the spray, I jumped. The red-headed guy with the shoulder issue that I'd seen in the locker room was showering under the head right next to me, when all the rest in the room were free. His cock was rock hard, sticking straight out from his body. His eyes met mine for the briefest instant looking hopeful before he snapped his head back to gaze at the tiles in front of him when he saw the look of repudiation on my face. His cheeks flushed a deep scarlet.

 

I chuckled. “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

 

“S-sorry…” he mumbled.

 

“You’re pretty young, so I won’t give you too much hassle, but you don’t want to be caught cruising in a family YMCA. It will end very, very badly for you. If you are into the whole gym shower scene, there are a crapload of places around the city that are fast and loose for guys like us. Just do some research on the internet before you go have fun,” I leveled, rinsing the soap from my body.

 

“O… okay...” he practically whispered, still blushing furiously. Thankfully for him, it seemed his hard-on was dissipating

 

I smiled, turning off the flow of water. “You’re cute,” I said, clapping down onto his shoulder. “I bet you are going to make some boy very happy if you are patient. Don’t let that stop you from having fun, but know your limits.”

 

I walked away before I got a response. I was feeling pretty good about myself, toweling off as I walked back to my locker. I probably should have done that right in the shower room, but whatever. We’re all guys here. You know, I’m not sure what possessed me to go all gay mentor on him instead telling him to just fuck off, but everybody could use a little advice when they are in that initial awkward phase on either side of the closet door. I certainly wish I’d had someone to tell me what I needed to hear. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a total whore when I first came to Toronto but I did have way more sexual partners than I’m proud of admitting. I was desperate to be loved, and despite the awesome relationship I had with Brady and all of the new friends I was making, there was this hole I felt inside me that nothing seemed to fill. I wasn’t bringing them home most of the time, so Brady was only half-aware of how bad I was getting. I’m just so glad that my friend Chantal Tran was there, dragged me to Tim Horton’s in the middle of the night and sat me down for a long talk about slowing down, about why I was doing what I was doing, about my father, about me. She was amazing. She’s always amazing. God, would I have ever gone up to talk to Mike when we met if she hadn’t pushed me in the right direction?

 

It's been far too long. I need to call her. Her, Brady, and my mom.

 

It’s time to hit the reset button. Time to renew my life, my friendships, my loves.

 

It’s time for me.