Only Prompts - 22. Never Again

“What can I tell him?”

Gary put the cigarette to his lips and drew smoke into his lungs. He imagined it wending its way around tiny blood vessels, as all-the-while it poisoned him. He blew the smoke out; making rings that floated over the rumpled bed clothes.

He stabbed the butt into an ashtray which rested on his chest and said, “Whatever the fuck you want. He’s your problem, not mine.”

Arnie looked over at his lover. “Thanks. That’s not helpful.”

Rolling to his left, Gary put the small glass ashtray on the nightstand. “Look, Arnie. In case you haven’t figured this out … you and me … we fuck. We have some fun. This ain’t a relationship.”

“I know.” Arnie sat up, swinging his legs over this side. “You tell me that every time we’re together.”

Gary lay on his back, arms crossed under head; he laughed. “You and your husband, boyfriend or whatever he is, mean zero to me.” Pulling himself up Gary leaned back against the headboard. “You and me meet for one reason. A couple of hours of hot sex. We fuck, rut … do it. Whatever you want to call it.”

“You’re awful.”

“You didn’t say that twenty minutes ago while you rode my big fat dick!”

Arnie always felt remorse after a session with Gary. He was an exciting man. Cold, hard but a machine in bed, dominant in bed … just like Arnie wanted. He looked again at Gary. “Why do I even ….”

“Why? You know why.” Gary pulled Arnie backward so his head was resting on Gary’s groin. “I’m gonna fuck you again now … you won’t walk straight after this.”

Arnie struggled, but Gary slipped around straddling the smaller man. His grip was so tight on his biceps, Arnie’s eyes watered.

“You are gonna be good, and shut the hell up.” Gary’s open hand met Arnie’s cheek with a head-ringing slap. Gary leaned close, his breath smelling of cigarettes. His voice was a whisper. “Do you get me?”

Afraid now, Arnie nodded.

It was after ten o’clock when Arnie pushed the key into the lock and slowly opened the front door. The house smelled like beef stew. As he stepped in and closed the door, Arnie recalled Jarrod saying; stew was what he was making for dinner.

Arnie hung up his coat. Each movement hurt. He badly wanted a shower.

Gary never let him shower there. He enjoyed knowing Arnie went home stinking of him; of what they’d done.

In his stocking-feet, Arnie tiptoed past the living room. A quick glance assured him Jarrod was asleep in front of the TV, and he climbed the stairs. Turning left, he went into their bedroom.

It was a warm, comfortable room. There was love in it and it made Arnie’s shame deepen.

Arnie stripped off completely, and padded into the bathroom. He shoved his dirty clothes into the hamper and stepped into the walk-in shower. He turned on the water and adjusted the temperature to as hot as he could stand.

He spoke to himself in a whisper. “Never again. The fucking prick. Why did I ever ….”

The opening bathroom door got his attention. Jarrod stood there. His eyes were huge as he stepped toward the shower and pulled open the glass door.

“Arnie!” Jarrod gasped and pointed. “Were you in an accident … mugged? Oh, my God! Arnie are you all right?”

Nodding at his husband, he was glad Jarrod could not see his tears as they mingled with the shower’s spray. He looked down at himself. Gary had been so rough–cruel–and the bruises that were coming out showed it. He knew Jarrod was still staring.

Talking over the shower, he said, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I’ll heat some food for you.” After another glance, Jarrod turned and left Arnie alone.

Arnie turned off the water, grabbed his towel and wiped himself down. Everything hurt.

He’d tried to fight Gary off, but he hadn’t been able to. Gary fucked him hard and had been rough with him and then laughed about it.

“Arnie, you’re pathetic. Christ, go home to your husband. Don’t come back. What you offer I can get at any bargain bar in town.”

That had stung. “I never thought we’d have anything … well, I thought maybe just as lovers. But there wasn’t love in anything we did … like he said, all we did was fuck. Like dogs in the street.” Arnie tried to rid himself of thoughts of Gary as he dressed in track pants and a t-shirt.

Pulling himself together—shoulders back—Arnie descended the stairs and entered the kitchen.

Jarrod sat at the small chrome and bird’s-egg-blue kitchen table. At the opposite side of the table was a plate of steaming beef stew and two slices of bread and butter. The meal was rounded out with a glass of red wine.

Arnie stood behind the chair and stared at his husband. He eventually sat and looked down at the plate of food. He felt sick, guilty, and ashamed.

“This looks … smells ….”

“Don’t bother lying any more, Arnie.”

“What?”

“I said, don’t!”

Arnie picked up the wine glass and took a swallow. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth to start with. Who did that to you?”

“No one … I had to really slam on the brakes ….”

Jarrod got to his feet, the chair sliding noisily as he did. “I’ve packed my bags. I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“I told you not to lie. You’re lying. I know you’ve been sleeping with someone else.” Jarrod sighed. “What does he do for you? Do you love him?”

“No! No, I don’t love him,” Arnie blurted out. “I’ve finished with him. Jarrod, please.”

Jarrod’s eyes were filled with distain. “If you were unhappy, we could have talked about it. If our love life wasn’t satisfactory, we could have talked about it.” He stepped toward the doorway. “But your answer was to lie and cheat. You decided I was too naïve to figure it out.”

“I was stupid.” Arnie turned in his seat. “Jarrod … I’m sorry. Please … please don’t leave.”

“I think I’d be stupid to stay. Are you finished with him because I found out?”

“No.” Arnie hung is head. “You saw me. He did that. I know I have to change. I know I’ve not been here, or a good partner.” Arnie stood and reached for Jarrod’s hand. “I know I don’t deserve another chance.”

“What are you saying?”

Arnie looked into his husband’s eyes. “I am asking for the chance I do not deserve. I’m asking you to not leave.”

Jarrod returned to his seat. “You know what that’s gonna look like, Arn? Do you? I’m going to ask you shit. I want to know the truth. It will probably hurt you. Is that what you want?”

“If that’s how it has to be. If doing that will fix things … then yes. I’ll do what you want, anything.”

“Sit down and eat.”

Arnie slipped back into his seat and picked up his fork. The food was cool but tasty.

“What is his name, Arn. Your … your lover?”

“Gary.”

Jarrod watched his husband of six years eat. They’d come so far together; a life woven together. “I see. He hit you … is that what you like?”

Arnie chewed and swallowed. “No.”

“Then what?”

“It was just sex.”

“I see. Our sex wasn’t enough for you?”

“Jarrod ….”

“Why did you marry me, Arnie?”

“I love you.”

“Why?”

Arnie sat back and considered that. Why, indeed. “Well, we liked each other, enjoyed being together, shared a lot of interests … loved being together. We got on, wanted similar things.”

“When did it change?” Jarrod ran a finger over the tabletop. “Because it did, didn’t it?”

Arnie said nothing until Jarrod raised his head, and he found his husband’s brown eyes. “Yeah, I guess it did.”

“That’s on us both. Do you want to fix it?”

“Yes. Jarrod, being with Gary … I knew it was wrong, that it would hurt you … us. But it was empty. It was a sad thrill, that’s all.”

Jarrod sat quietly for a moment. “It’s not all your fault. So, if I’m honest, I don’t want to know more. All I want to know is this: are you really finished with him, and do you really want to fix our relationship?”

“Yes … it is over. I’m done with him.” Arnie got up and knelt in front of Jarrod. “And yes, I know I love you. I want to put myself back into our relationship. We’ve invested so much, come so far. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to help make it right. I think doing otherwise would be a waste.”

“We need to go slow, Arn.”

“Yeah, I agree. Do you want me to move out?”

Jarrod reached for Arnie’s hand. “No, but let’s move slowly. Be honest, like we were in the beginning. Remember?”

Arnie got to his feet. “Yeah, I do.”

“Let’s go to bed.”

“Um ….”

Jarrod smiled. “To sleep. At least for now.”

Arnie collected his dishes, put them in the sink, and covered them with cold water. He then returned to Jarrod. He slid his arm around his husband’s waist. “Ready?”

Jarrod nodded. They walked from the kitchen and up the stairs.

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