Man In Motion - 24. Engagement

December 27, 1985

Palo Alto, CA

Robbie was quiet on the way to see his psychologist, David Sizemore, which was fine with me. I just focused on driving, enjoying being able to do that again. The entire time in Paris we’d used public transportation, or hired cars or cabs, so it was kind of a rush to be behind the wheel again. It made me feel like I was in control of my destiny.

I looked sideways at Robbie and could see how nervous and uptight he was. He was so tense that I was willing to bet if I so much as swerved a bit he’d completely freak out. Since we’d gotten back to Escorial, I’d watched him struggle to try to fight his demons and get his self-esteem back, but it was a battle both of us knew he was losing. It wouldn’t be obvious to the rest of our family, primarily because they weren’t sleeping with him. They didn’t get to witness the nightmares where he’d wake up shouting in a cold sweat, and they didn’t see the biggest indicator of his trauma, because they weren’t having sex with him.

Thinking about that almost made me sigh out loud, but thankfully I stifled it so Robbie didn’t notice. We’d had lots of sex as we’d reunited and tried to re-seal our bond, and I was all over that, but the only way he could get off was if I fucked him hard and rough to the point where I was almost violent, or if I stuck my fist up his ass.

“I figured that you'd want to meet with David alone a few times before I came along,” I said, finally breaking the silence.

“I'm having a hard time adapting and I’m having these really bad thoughts about myself. I want you to know what's going on, I’m going to have to tell David, and I really don’t want to go over it twice,” he said firmly, then got nervous. “Is that OK?”

“It's totally fine,” I said, and smiled at him, taking my eyes briefly off the road. “I'll go with you every time if you want me to.” He put his hand on mine as I shifted the Porsche and squeezed gently and lovingly, which made me sad because it was such a contrast from the way we had sex.

“It's nice to be back in the US, and to have a car,” he said.

“You don't have a car,” I teased. “That's something we have to get for you.” He cringed at the mention of his not having a car, probably remembering how Neil had made him sign over his Jeep when they were together. He pulled himself out of that mood dive, but I could feel how much effort it took.

“Let's wait until we move to Malibu,” he said, and that really brightened my mood. I’d been worried that once he was out of jail, he'd change his mind and decide he didn’t want to move. I knew that would spark a huge fight, and I’d been dreading it. Instead, he'd been super supportive, helping me plan out our move, and deciding what to pack up and what to leave for when we came back to visit.

“In the meantime, you can always drive my Ferrari if you want.” I was referring to the car Stef had bought me when I was in high school: a red 1980 Ferrari 308 GTS with a targa top. I loved that car, and even when I’d gotten my Porsche, I couldn't bear to part with it. That briefly reminded me, once again, of the Jeep Robbie had given to Neil. When Stef had given me the Ferrari, I’d given my Jeep to Robbie. I stopped my brain from totally obsessing over that tangent and reeled my thoughts back in.

“That works,” Robbie said. We got to David's office and there was no one there, not even the receptionist. I just shrugged, but we barely had time to sit down before David came out to guide us back to his office.

“You're not busy today,” I said playfully.

“The office is closed this week. I came in just to see you guys,” David said with a gentle smile. “After Robbie told me what happened, I wanted to spend some time with both of you.”

“Thanks for fitting me in. That was really nice of you,” Robbie said, the anxiety dripping off of his words. I caught David’s eye and was glad to see he recognized the massive guilt vibes Robbie was giving off.

“Tell me all about your time in jail,” David said, getting straight to the point.

Robbie swallowed hard, then started describing his experience. “It wasn't much fun being locked up but it was mostly boring, except for a few encounters.”

“Encounters?” I asked, because he’d only told me about the time they’d raped him.

“Encounters,” he said, and looked at me, begging me not to get upset with him. I just nodded, as if to give him permission to go on. “The first one happened the second day that I was there. The other inmates had found out that I was gay, probably because it was all over the news, so they were giving me shit. There was this one guy who was like a bodybuilder. He was probably in his mid-20s, and he was really gunning for me. His name was Hugo. He kept telling me I was gonna be his bitch, that he was gonna kick my ass, and other shit like that. I was in the showers and he and five of his friends grabbed me. They used soap for lube, and Hugo fucked me first. He was a total asshole, because he had a big dick and he pushed it into my ass with no warning and no preparation.”

“That is often how rape works,” David said, but it was like Robbie hadn’t heard him.

“He just started pounding me, fucking the shit out of me until he was ready to cum, then he pulled out, moved in front of me, and shot his load all over my face. While he was doing that, the next guy rammed his dick into me, and that was the pattern they followed. When he was done, the next guy took his place, then the next one, then the next one, until they’d all fucked me and blown their loads all over me.” I was sitting next to him so I put my arm around him supportively, even as I glanced down at his pants which were so obviously tenting even David saw it.

“I’m sorry,” I said, just to try and make him feel better.

“When they were all done, they stood back and laughed at me. I had their cum all over my face, and I’d had two orgasms while they’d fucked me,” he said. “When they noticed I’d cum, they called me a faggot and taunted me and kicked me until a guard spooked them.”

“Rape is traumatic, no less if the person getting raped reaches a climax,” David said soothingly. “That doesn’t mean you enjoyed it.”

“It doesn’t?” he asked indignantly.

“That obviously bothers you,” I said. “Are you upset because you did enjoy it?”

“What the fuck?” Robbie demanded. “You think I wanted them to do that?”

“I think what Brad was suggesting was that, while you didn’t want them to rape you, you may have found the actual act to be erotic,” David said. “You said there were other encounters.”

“Yeah,” Robbie said, then he started crying, almost sobbing.

I squeezed his shoulder, pulling him closer. “It’s alright, baby,” I said to him. “I love you. Whatever you say isn’t going to change that.”

He gave me a loving look, wiped the tears from his eyes, and nodded. “After that, the other guys didn't fuck me, but Hugo did. He knew the prison, and he'd find things to do that were near places where he could fuck me. Any time he found me near one of those spots, he'd nail me.”

“When you had sex with him, was it different than when he raped you?” David asked.

“No,” Robbie said. “Every time he fucked me it was the same. He'd grab my hair and pull my head back and say shit to me like he was going to kill me, or he was going to beat me up so bad I wouldn’t be able to walk, or carve up my face so it was all scarred up and ugly. The whole time he was saying those things, he was slamming his cock into my ass.”

“You couldn’t escape from him?” I asked Robbie.

“I didn’t want to,” he said, and was so embarrassed that he looked down and refused to make eye contact with me or David. “I loved it, to the point where I was obsessed. All I wanted was for him to pound my ass while he threatened me. At first I'd find reasons to let him find me and I’d plan for that to happen. I’d lube my ass up in advance so I was ready for him. Then it got to the point where I'd look for him.”

“You know, you make it sound like this was some uncontrollable urge that you had, and maybe it was, but when I visited you in jail, you told me about him and the problems he was causing you,” I said. “If you were that obsessed, you wouldn’t have done that.”

He gave me a very loving look to thank me for tossing him that bit of reassurance. “I guess I wasn’t.”

“Now that you’re out, you’re home, and you’re safe, how are you feeling about your encounters with Hugo?” David asked.

“I feel like shit about it, but the thought of it still turns me on,” he said, and started sobbing again. I was kind of irritated that he hadn’t shared all this with me, but that was just me being bitchy. After what had happened to him in high school, where he’d been raped in the showers, dealing with this must be almost unbearable.

“When you two have sex, what is it like?” He asked. Robbie looked to me to answer, probably because he was too upset to talk about it.

“It's rough,” I said. “He either wants me to slam him hard where it feels so violent I’m worried that I’m hurting him, or he wants me to fist him.”

“How does that make you feel?” David asked me.

“Look, sex with Robbie is amazing no matter how we do it,” I said, sounding a little frustrated because I was uncomfortable being on the spot about this. “I don’t mind fucking him hard and rough, and I don’t mind getting him off by fisting him. The only thing that bothers me is that I can’t get him off by making love anymore.” That brought Robbie from softly crying to a full sob.

“Robbie,” David said, and waited until Robbie looked at him. “You have been through this before. You worked really hard to recover your self-esteem, and now that you know how to do it, it will probably happen quickly.”

“It doesn’t seem like it will be that easy,” Robbie said glumly. I looked at him and started to realize that there was something more here, that something else was bothering him.

“I know that it won’t be easy, but it will be easier,” David said, not picking up on Robbie’s deeper problem, whatever it was. “It will be easier because you know what you have to do, and you know that once you come to terms with what happened, you’ll feel better about yourself.”

“How does that make it easier?” Robbie asked morosely.

“Because you fought the battle before, so you know how to do it,” I said. “And because you won before, there’s no real uncertainty, so you know you’ll beat it again.”

“Once you realize that even though you may have enjoyed the physical act of sex while you were in prison, it wasn’t your fault, and it wasn’t your choice,” David said.

“How was it not my fault when I actively tried to find Hugo and get him to fuck me?” Robbie demanded.

“Because you were in prison, a place that by definition takes away your options,” David said. “I will help you understand that, and when that happens, you’ll start to feel good about yourself, and your life, sex included, will be so much better.”

“I know,” Robbie replied, almost in a sulk, but I could tell he didn’t believe what David had said.

“What else is bothering you?” I demanded. “There’s something you’re not telling us.”

“You’re calling me a liar?” he asked, getting really pissed off, but that didn’t bother me at all; it just told me that I was right.

“Robbie, I want to come back to Brad’s question, but before we do, I want you to think about how things have turned out,” David said. “You have gone through this ordeal, and you vindicated yourself in court, proving to the world that you are innocent.”

“Only I'm not,” Robbie said, then hid his face in his hands as if he were trying to shut us out, like he was worried that we would hurt him.

“Not what?” I asked.

“Not innocent,” he said, and in what must have taken amazing courage, he looked at me, letting me see the pain and agony in his lavender eyes.

“You killed Neil?” I asked. He nodded, because he couldn't bring himself to actually admit it.

David jumped in and intervened. “Why tell Brad this now, and not back when you were first arrested?” That was the question on my mind too.

Robbie looked at me, willing me to forgive him for killing Neil, and begging me to be patient and to hear him out. I gave him a weak smile to tell him that I would, and that seemed to release a torrent of words from him. “I was worried that you would hate me for doing such a horrible thing. that you would think that I deserved to be tried and convicted for it,” he said.

“I can understand that,” I said calmly, and rubbed his back. “I felt the same way when I thought that I’d killed Neil.” This whole thing must be blowing David’s mind.

“My biggest fear was that you'd desert me and leave me to suffer my fate, the fate I deserved.” He sighed. “Part of me wanted to do that, to pay the price for killing him, but the other part of me was selfish. I wanted to get out of jail, get out of France, and just move back here and forget all about it.”

“How does that make you feel, Brad?” David asked, probably because he’d seen how freaked out I was. I stared at Robbie, then at David, and then at Robbie again, processing my feelings, trying to grapple with what he had told me. Robbie was going to say something, but David held up his hand, stopping him, giving me time to say what I wanted to say.

I was too agitated to sit there and talk about this, so I got up and started pacing until I knew what I wanted to say. “I don't give a shit that you killed Neil,” I said to Robbie. “If anything, I'm proud of you for doing it. He was scum, a stain on this earth, and he'd hurt both of us bad enough to make either one of us do it.”

“Thanks,” Robbie said nervously, as he braced himself for the ‘but’ he knew was coming.

“It pisses me off that you didn't tell me,” I said, showing how mad I was with my tone. “Not only were you not honest with me, you saw how upset I was when I thought I was the one who did it. You let me spin in the wind, agonizing over how you were going to have to take the fall for me. We argued about that constantly, and you could have made things so much easier if you’d just admitted it to me.”

“I was worried I would lose you,” he said sincerely, letting me into his psyche. He was probably hoping that would calm me down, but I wasn’t there yet.

“So you let me think I had murdered the guy? Right before I found out Neil was strangled, I was determined to admit that I’d done it. That’s how far you had pushed me. That’s how torn up I was about it,” I spat.

“I am so sorry,” he said, and started sobbing again, but I was too mad to ease up on him. Probably the only thing that would have stopped me was if David had intervened, but curiously enough, he didn’t.

“So that hell wasn’t enough,” I said, now fully on a roll. “You convinced my entire family that you were innocent, and they pledged to fight for you, and they did. My grandmother, who is dying from brain cancer, flew to Paris to help you, and you couldn’t even be honest with us? My family and I moved fucking heaven and earth to get you out, to get you off, and we did it under false pretenses.”

“Why did you decide to kill Neil?” David asked Robbie, changing the subject and leaving my issues out there, unaddressed. That threatened to really set me free, because I wasn’t ready to have all this shit just dismissed away as nothing. I paced around for a bit longer, then sat back down on the couch, although I left a considerable distance between Robbie and me, both physically and emotionally. The only thing that kept my temper in check was how sad and defeated Robbie looked.

“Answer his fucking question,” I demanded.

“I left Neil's apartment after fucking him, and I walked around for a while trying to figure out how to solve the problem, how to get rid of him,” he said, then he did that thing where he started babbling. “Neil had no clue how things worked, so there was no way to reason with him. He seemed to think that just because Brad has a shitload of money, that I had access to it and that I could write a check for $50,000 or $75,000 and it would be no big deal. Besides, even if I did give Neil the money, I knew that he’d just come back and squeeze me for more. I thought about going to the police, but they’d never believe me. Why should they? What proof did I have?”

“It kind of amazes me that when you were thinking of all these ways to solve this problem, one of them wasn’t to ask me to help you out,” I said bitterly. Robbie gave me an apologetic look, but smiled slightly, because he recognized that my rage had receded.

“I should have,” he said. “I guess I felt like it was my problem to solve. You’d already put up with so much shit because I’d gotten with Neil; I was worried that piling that on might be the thing that made you decide I wasn’t worth it.”

“You’re an idiot,” I said, but only in a slightly nasty way.

“So you felt you had to kill Neil because you were trapped in that situation? A victim of blackmail?” David asked.

“No, that wasn’t why,” Robbie said. “After I had spent about an hour walking around and thinking, I realized that the decision in front of me didn’t involve money or any of that shit, and that the answer was so simple. Neil had threatened to harm Brad. He’d taken pictures of Brad in public places around town, just to show me how easy it was for them to get to him. There was absolutely no way I was willing to risk them hurting Brad. We had to be rid of him for good and I knew that I was the one who had to do it.”

They both looked at me, but my mind was reeling again. I was still pissed at him, especially for letting me think I’d killed Neil, but I also realized how much he loved me. “Why you?” David asked, pulling us both out of our trances.

“Because it was my fault,” Robbie said, in the same tone I would have said ‘duh’. “I was the one who’d fallen for Neil's bullshit at Princeton. I was the one who’d let it go on, who’d kept him in my life. I was the one who’d forced him into Brad's life. I was the idiot who’d actually thought I loved Neil, and I was the complete asshole who’d made Brad think that Neil was even the slightest competition for him in my heart. That’s why he was my problem, my responsibility. I’d brought him in; I had to take him out.” Before David could say anything, Robbie turned to face me and took my hands in his. He seemed happy that I'd even let him hold my hands. “I'm so sorry. I truly am. I was so desperate, and I’d forgotten how strong our love is, or at least was. I’d forgotten that you'd stick by me like you always have.”

As soon as I heard those words, I realized I was so in love with this guy it was almost painful, and he was telling me that he loved me just as much, if not more. The way he held my hands, gently and lovingly, made me forget what a complete idiot he could be, while reminding me that I’d done some incredibly stupid shit too. I put my anger aside and smiled at him, and watched his smile grow to match mine. I squeezed his hands back, and shook my head in a playful way. “Is, dumbass. How strong our love is.”

I felt his hands almost yank on mine as he pulled me toward him and enveloped me in his arms. We held that embrace for a while until we remembered we were meeting with his shrink. When we backed away from each other, we just beamed at each other. “So how do you feel now Robbie?” David asked.

“I feel great,” he said, then paused to think beyond the euphoria of the moment we’d just experienced. “I feel relieved.”

“You didn’t think I’d forgive you for this? You thought we were at risk?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, letting me see his confusion.

“I think that you are probably relieved that you have repaired your relationship with Brad,” David said, “but I think the feeling you are describing is more about being open and honest about what happened.”

“I’m not sure I get it,” Robbie said.

“I think that you had internalized your guilt for killing Neil, then you added more guilt on top of that because you hadn’t told Brad about it, and because you’d let him think he’d done it. Then you tacked on even more guilt for the way everyone had fought to get you released when they were doing it under false pretenses. Instead of facing it, you kept all that guilt bottled up inside of you,” David said. I was actually a little annoyed that he was taking Robbie away from the happy place we’d just been in, but he was the psychologist, not me.

“I did feel guilty for all of those things,” Robbie admitted.

“Then when you went to prison, you probably subconsciously felt that when they raped you, you deserved it,” he said.

Robbie stared at him blankly for a bit. “I can see that.”

“I think that maybe your guilt was so great, you sought out this man in prison to punish you further,” David said.

“Only that just made me guiltier,” Robbie said, totally dazed. “It was like a vicious cycle.”

“Ponder this,” David said, to make sure we were paying attention. “As soon as you confessed to Brad what had happened, you removed the guilt for everything except possibly for killing Neil,” David said.

“I feel no guilt for that,” Robbie said, almost snarling.

“You won’t get any from me either,” I said. Neil was one person I would never mourn.

“I think that having all of that guilt removed is why you feel relieved,” David concluded.

“That makes sense,” Robbie said, and we both knew he was right. Robbie and David started to talk more in depth about his internal guilt, and I almost felt like an interloper so I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I took my time, and when I got back, they were finishing up.

“I’m glad you’re back,” David said pleasantly. “I wanted to give you both some guidelines for the time before Robbie’s next appointment.”

“Then I’m glad I’m back too,” I said in a perky way.

“I'd like you to make sure that for every rough and aggressive sex act, you have at least one loving and caring one,” David said.

“Okay,” Robbie said, and seemed a little disappointed. I couldn’t stop myself, and I just started laughing. “What's so funny?” Robbie asked in a way that showed he was annoyed with me.

“Nothing is funny,” I said, even as I laughed some more. “I'm just thinking about all the sex we're going to have.”

“I still don’t see why you’re laughing,” Robbie said, pretending to be annoyed, then grinned. “I would have expected that to make you really horny.” As soon as he said that, his prediction came true and I got really turned on. They snickered at me enough to annoy me.

“I would really like you to avoid fisting, at least for the time being,” David said. “If that is something you two still want to do after Robbie gets his feet firmly on the ground, then I think you should indulge yourselves. As we work through these issues, though, it might hurt Robbie’s progress.”

“Okay,” Robbie said sadly; I said nothing, because when we did it, it was for him, not me.

“If the desire becomes overwhelming, I want you to go ahead and do it, but then you need to call me the next day,” David said.

“I’ll do that,” Robbie agreed. We thanked him, left his office, and didn’t talk until I’d driven a couple of miles.

“You wanted me to come with you so you could confess in front of him and so I wouldn’t rip you a new asshole?” I asked, making sure to keep my voice even.

“I think that’s pretty much it,” he admitted.

“I’m trying to figure out whether to be upset because you don’t trust me or upset because you’re afraid of me,” I said.

“I knew that this was a lot to unpack, both for you and for me,” he said. “It got to the point where I didn’t think I could explain things to you, because I didn’t have a decent grip on them myself.”

“You’re trying to say it’s not all about me?” I demanded, pretending to be outraged. “I don’t know where the fuck you got that idea.” He laughed with me, and we drove home silently, but it was a calm and pensive silence, not a brooding one like we’d experienced on our way to David’s office.

January 3, 1986

Escorial

Palo Alto, CA

I sat in the kitchen, finishing up my breakfast, girding myself for the big goodbye scene. Today was the day that Robbie and I were officially moving to Southern California. Robbie and I were eating, while Tonto was reading her paper. I was hoping we’d finish before she was done, but she was either speedy today or there wasn’t much exciting news. “Well that's typical. You just get home and you're off again,” Tonto groused. “Keep ignoring me. Go ahead. You'll be sorry when I'm gone.”

“Yes I will, but it's hard to imagine that the guilt is going to be worse than listening to you bitch all the time,” I teased.

“Hmph,” she said, in her faux-grumpy way. “College has made you as big of a smartass as Stefan.”

“You can come with us,” I offered.

“In that little car?” she asked, shaking her head.

“Sure. We can try and cram you into the back seat, or you can just fly down on your broom,” Robbie said, giving her shit for the first time ever. I was a little nervous at that, but Tonto just cackled hysterically.

“You've come a long way. I like you,” she said to him. “No, you guys go ahead. I'll stay here by myself, old and lonely.” She was trying to sound pathetic.

“OK,” I said simply, agreeing with her. She stared at me, annoyed that I wasn’t falling for her emotional blackmail, then I smiled at her. “You know you mean the world to me, Tonto. Come down and stay with us.”

“Bah,” she said.

“It would be so great to have you around, and the sea air would make your arthritis more painful,” I said. “That would give you something different to complain about.”

“Wait until you’re old and you have arthritis, and we’ll see how funny you think it is,” she said. “Besides, there just isn't that much room in Malibu, what with those boys there. They run around and make noise like a two-man mob.”

“But they're so cute,” Robbie said. “They’re kind of like puppies.”

“Are you two going to leave or just hang around and talk?” JP said as he walked in, smiling.

“We were just spending enough time with Tonto so she'd put her voodoo dolls away,” I said cheerfully.

“Well, she's just more vocal. We will all miss you,” he said.

“We'll miss you too,” I told him. “But like I told Tonto, Malibu isn’t far away.”

“And neither is Palo Alto,” he said, reminding me that we should come visit too.

I stood up to leave, then gazed deep into JP’s blue eyes. “Take care of yourself, OK? If you need me, just call me and I'll be there for you.” I didn't mean to sound so earnest.

“You are wasting time telling me things I already know,” he said, then gave me a long hug, one that bonded us together. I felt tears in my eyes and got pissed at myself for being so emotional, but unfortunately that was just the beginning of my maudlin goodbyes. There was a final traumatic goodbye with Tonto, then a tearful one with my mother.

Frank and Robbie were having a massive emotional breakdown, so to avoid dealing with that I walked to the car with Mouse. “We tried it last night,” he said, smiling.

“How was it?” I asked.

“Crappy. I couldn't do it, couldn't open up enough,” he said, sounding disappointed, as if his body had betrayed him. “I was worried that JP was getting tired of it so I made him stop.”

“So try again,” I said. “Stef told me that guys that are really into this use enemas and plan when they eat to make it, uh, cleaner, so if that's an issue you might try that.”

“Maybe we will,” he said. “It felt really weird. Part of it hurt like hell, but part of it was awesome, to have this man you love stretch you so wide open. Fuck.” I chuckled at his giddiness.

“So you're going to call and tell me about it?” I asked. He nodded. I got serious. “I need to ask you a favor.”

“What?” he asked nervously.

“This thing with Grandmaman is going to be tough on Dad. I'm so glad you're here for him,” I said. “If he gets really down, or you think he needs me, let me know, or drag him down to Malibu, OK?”

“Don't worry, Brad, I can take care of him,” he said defiantly.

I curbed my anger. “I know you can, Mouse. That’s what I’m talking about,” I explained. “He's my dad and I love him, and if I can help, I want to. I'm relying on you to tell me when he needs me.”

He mellowed. “I'm sorry. I guess since I have this fucking disease, I think that everyone figures that all I can do is take from him, not give back.”

“Well, I know better; I've seen better. You make each other happy.” He got a cute little grin and blushed. “Now quit looking so fucking cute or I'm gonna drag you out to the garage and loosen you up.”

“Sorry, I'm taken,” he said, and turned around and squeezed his ass, teasing me. Robbie came moping out and I sighed, bracing myself to deal with his moodiness.

“I'm ready,” he said, sulking. We hopped in, I fired up the Porsche, and we were finally off. As soon as we’d passed through the gates, I felt incredibly relieved. I hated long, emotional goodbyes like we’d just experienced. While I was over it, Robbie wanted to wallow in the sadness. “It was really hard saying goodbye to my dad.”

“I know, but we're only 400 miles away. It's a one-hour flight or a seven-hour drive.” I looked at him, gauging the moment. “Well, longer than that if you drive.”

He took the bait. “Fuck you, grandma. Next tank of gas we're trading places and I'll drive.” That most likely wouldn’t happen, because I liked to drive so I could be in control of where I was going, and because Robbie was a much slower driver than I was. Sometimes riding with him could bug me so much it was like nails on a chalkboard. We put aside the sadness of leaving and instead broke into happy banter, enjoying the sunny weather while wishing it were June so we could put the top down.

We’d taken Highway 101, and we’d been traveling inland for quite a while. When we got to San Luis Obispo, that meant we were almost back to the coast, and that prompted me to broach a new topic. “I was thinking that when we get to Malibu we should get our own house,” I told him.

“Our own house? You mean like a married couple?” he teased.

“Yeah. Just like a married couple,” I said. He looked at me skeptically. “If we were heterosexuals, we'd already be married.”

He raised an eyebrow, because that concept had surprised him, but we were in such good moods he got playful again. “Who says I would have asked you?”

“No. That is not how it works,” I said, disagreeing with him. “The rule with gay couples is that the guy with the biggest ass is the woman. I have to ask you.” He started cracking up.

“So who says if you ask me I would say yes?” he teased. I didn’t say anything for a few minutes, which kind of freaked him out. We were along the coast now and I saw a sign for Shell Beach. I pulled off into the parking area, and drove up to the edge where the water was directly in front of us. We stared out at the Pacific Ocean as it pounded against the shore. “What are you doing?”

“Will you?” I asked.

“Will I what?” he asked, confused.

“Will you marry me?” I asked. He almost laughed until he realized I wasn’t joking around.

“You’re serious?” he asked. I stared at him, letting him read my eyes to see that I was, in fact, totally serious.

“Will you marry me?” I repeated, maintaining our eyelock.

“We can't get married. It's not legal anywhere,” he said. “Shit, it’s not even legal in Zimbabwe.” He had kind of been pissing me off at first for not taking me seriously, but now he was starting to worry me. I thought he’d be happy about this, but he kept dodging the subject.

“I don't care about that,” I said dismissively. “Fuck the law. What matters is what we think.”

“You really want to do this?” he asked again, then seemed to understand that he was ruining the whole mood.

“Will you marry me?” I asked again.

He smiled, and finally seemed to get that I was being legit. “Well, if you're asking me, shouldn't you have a big fancy ring for me?” he teased. “Shit, Claire got a three-carat diamond.”

I smiled and reached across him to the glove box and popped it open, pulling out a small box. His eyes bulged as I opened the box, inside which were two matching gold bands. I pulled out the one that was his and took his left hand. “Will you marry me?” I asked.

It was amazing to watch his emotions shift once he finally realized I wasn’t just playing around. The fact that I’d planned this out to the point where I’d actually gotten us sacramental jewelry finally clued him in. “Yes. I will marry you,” he said with a smile. I took the ring and put it on his finger, then he took my ring and put it on my finger. “I love you,” he said, and it was so sincere I felt my heart flutter.

“I love you, too,” I said. We kissed, a kiss that started out loving but turned passionate pretty quickly.

He finally broke off our embrace. “Now drive,” he said, like he was giving me an order. “I want to get to Malibu so we can consummate our nuptials.” That cracked both of us up.

“I’ll try not to get a ticket,” I joked. I got back on 101 and headed south again, feeling absolutely euphoric.

“I can't believe you did this,” Robbie said, as he spun his ring around his finger. “We've been through so much shit–I’ve put you through so much shit–I'm surprised that you'd want to make this kind of commitment.”

I shook my head in frustration. “You are such a fucking dumbass. I've been committed to you since I was 17. We just had to go through a crucible and do a lot of growing up. During these past five years, the times I've been the most unhappy were when we weren't together as a couple. And the time that I was most unhappy of all was when you didn't love me.” I hadn't meant to throw that last sentence in, but since I had been totally opening up to him, it just came rolling out.

“Brad,” he said, speaking my name to make sure I was paying attention, and to let me know he had something important to say. “There was never a time, from the day I first drove you up to your grandparents’ house in the Eldorado until this minute, that I didn't love you.” I’d told him that I could tell when he was telling the truth and when he was lying, and I knew when he spoke those words he was sincere. I beamed at him briefly, then had to wipe a tear of happiness out of my eye as I focused on the road.

He reached over and held my hand, and we drove on like that, just enjoying being together and being in love. I had to downshift and that changed the mood, so I decided to revert back to my original topic. “So now that we’re married, what kind of house do you want to get?” I teased.

“One on the beach so you can surf,” he said adamantly. I looked at him and smiled, telling him with my expression how much I loved him. “I know how important that is to you; if you’re by the water, it will make you happier.”

“You’re right,” I agreed, then we started talking about all the places along the coast we could live, using that conversation to fill up the rest of our trip.

We pulled into the Colony and drove up to Stef’s house. When we got out of the car I inhaled the sea air and smiled, making him chuckle. We went inside to find Stef and Greg waiting for us, but the boys were both out. “Welcome to Malibu!” Stef said, and both he and Greg gave us big hugs. “I am so excited that you are here!”

“It’s good to be here, but leaving sure wasn’t easy,” I grumbled, then told them how traumatic our goodbyes had been.

“The best things are usually hard,” Stef said, cracking me up with his double-entendre.

“The drive down here was amazing,” I said, and that prompted us to start chattering about our trip. After we’d rambled on for a few minutes, I smiled as I saw Stef notice first my ring, then Robbie’s.

“I see that you both have identical gold bands on your ring fingers, pieces of jewelry I do not recall you wearing before,” he noted, acting like he was a sleuth. “I am wondering if this is merely a coincidence?”

“It’s no coincidence,” I said, grinning and blushing at the same time. “It's a sign of our pledge to each other. Even though the government won't allow us to get married, as far as we're concerned, we are.”

“Congratulations!” Stef said. “That is so beautiful. I am so happy for you!”

“So am I,” Greg said, and that seemed to be our cue to stand up and hug each other again. I saw Greg roll his eyes and I smiled at him. His annoyance with emotional displays mirrored my own, and I’d certainly endured enough of them today as it was.

“Brad pulled over at Shell Beach and asked me,” Robbie said. “He told me that since he can put his hand up my ass, that makes me the bride.” We all laughed hysterically, letting Robbie’s humor drag us away from our maudlin moment.

“That sounds like a good criterion,” Greg said.

“While I am overjoyed that you are now happily married, I am disappointed that you did not have a big wedding,” Stef said, then got an evil grin. “Despite that, I was clairvoyant enough to buy you both a wedding present.”

“Boy, didn't you get lucky,” Greg said, chuckling.

“Shut up,” Stef said, and playfully smacked Greg’s shoulder.

“What did you get us?” I asked suspiciously, sensing this present was a big deal.

“Walk with me,” Stef said. Robbie looked at me curiously, but I just shrugged my shoulders and we followed Stef and Greg out the front door of their house. Stef turned right, and started walking down the sidewalk until he got to the house next door. He stopped and looked at it, while we were just wondering what the fuck he was doing. He looked at Robbie and me and smiled. “I bought you a house.”

“You bought us a house?” I asked, remembering at the last minute to say ‘us’ instead of ‘me’.

“I bought you this house,” he said.

“I can’t believe you bought us a house,” I said, both shocked and amazed by that gesture. “A house next door to yours, right on the beach in Malibu. This is like paradise.”

Stef smiled at me, happy that he’d made me happy, then put his arm around my waist. “Let me show it to you.” Now that the shock was over, I looked at this place in a more considered way, and the first thing I appreciated was the three-car garage. Stef led us through the door and into the great room, with its stunning views of the ocean.

I’d been in my own little world, just enjoying this amazing present, when I glanced over at Robbie who stood there uncomfortably, trying to digest this largesse. “Are you OK with this?” Greg asked him gently. It was completely out of character for Greg to act like that, gentle and concerned.

“It's just a little overwhelming,” Robbie said. Stef looked at him carefully, as if trying to decide if Robbie was upset, and that jarred Robbie into explaining his statement. “I left Escorial this morning only to end up in Malibu, married, with a mansion on the beach.” Greg laughed, and that sparked the rest of us to laugh as well.

“Sometimes life throws you some pretty shitty curve balls,” Greg said. “This time you got a break, so enjoy it.”

“Thanks,” Robbie said. “It’s awesome. I really appreciate your generosity.”

“Bah,” Greg said. “If you think about it, Stef is just being selfish. He wants to keep you two close to him, and next door is about as close as you can get.”

“So Stef’s the only one who feels that way?” I teased. “You don't want us close?”

“Not really,” he said. “I wanted to buy you a house down in San Clemente next to Nixon's place.” I rolled my eyes and took Robbie's hand, pulling him along as we started to explore this palace they’d bought us.

“Stef, this place is bigger than your house,” I said. “You sure you don't want to move over here instead?”

“I do not have to provide room for a nanny, a husband, and four kids,” Stef replied with a grin. “I only have to provide a room for Tonto when she visits.”

“Let's see,” I said, holding my hands out as if they were scales. “Tonto versus two screaming kids and two hormonal teenagers. You got screwed on that deal.” He laughed.

“So you are not mad at me for manipulating your life?” he asked. It dawned on me that he’d taken a risk with this purchase, and that had made him both excited and apprehensive. There was a possibility we could have been bitchy about him trying to control our lives, but that was so stupid, because he’d really done this so we would all be together.

“No Stef, I'm not mad at you. It’s a wonderful gift,” I said, “and the house is nice too.”

He looked at me, confused. “I do not understand.”

“I was kind of sad about leaving Escorial, because it’s such a hub, where everyone is around. There’s such a family feeling,” I said. “By moving us in next door, you’ve created something just like that for all of us here.”

Stef walked up to me and held up his finger and I pressed mine against his, reminding us of the blood-brother bond we’d taken all those years ago in Paris. “Those were beautiful words.”

“They were,” Greg said, then turned his attention to Robbie. “And how do you feel about all of this?

“I feel just like Brad does,” Robbie said. “I’m sorry if I’m being a little quiet. I'm just not used to getting such extravagant gifts. It's a lot for me to digest, but at the bottom of it I feel a lot of gratitude.” He was so sincere, and so sweet, Stefan gave him the biggest hug.

He broke it off and giggled. “Your husband is either horny, or he finds me very attractive.” Robbie's pants were tenting and he was blushing.

Robbie recovered gamely. “I am really horny, but like all guys, of course I find you very attractive,” then he looked at Greg, pretending to be afraid. “In an unobtainable kind of way.”

“Yes, that is the plight of so many men,” Stef said with faux resignation. “They can only look and dream.” I rolled my eyes at him at the same time Greg did. “We have to decorate,” Stef announced, abruptly changing the subject.

“This is where I leave,” Greg said, unwilling to get into the details of how our house was going to look inside.

Stef ignored him and prattled on. “I must make some phone calls. I know some great decorators. Of course, they require close supervision.” I looked at Robbie knowingly, since Stef would no doubt all but take over this project.

We wandered through the house, exploring all of its nooks and crannies. It was on the same amount of land as Stef's, but instead of the pool and deck in the inner courtyard, it was all house. There were six bedrooms, with seven bathrooms, which was just massive, but there were two really cool features that I fell in love with. First of all, the house had a surf room on the beach level, which had a shower to rinse off my body and a hose to rinse off my gear. After I was done rinsing off my gear, there was a storage room that would house all of it: surfboards, wetsuits, and other equipment. The second cool thing was that this house didn’t have a flat roof like Stef’s house; rather, it had an angled roof with a carved-out patio on the front. The roofed-in area adjacent to the deck was an attic that I could convert into my studio. It had the advantage of having nice windows that looked out at the ocean. “This is perfect,” I said, when we’d finished our tour and ended up back in the great room.

“I am glad you like it,” Stef said. “We are going to leave you two to enjoy your new home. Tomorrow we will go shopping for the basics.”

“Sounds good,” I agreed.

“Hold out your hands,” Stef ordered, addressing Robbie and I. We each held out a hand and he put a key in each one. He led Greg out of the house, smiling, while I stood there numbly, staring at my key.

I turned to Robbie and looked at him nervously. “Are you OK with this? I'm sorry, but Stef just gets excited sometimes, and he loves to buy people gifts. I think that's what he likes best about having money.”

He moved forward a step and hugged me. “It's awesome, more than I could ever have dreamed.” Then his lips were on mine, causing my hormones to surge along with his own. We took our clothes off in the middle of the empty yet huge two-level great room with its walls of windows that overlooked the beach, and made love on the hard marble floors. It was cold, hard, and extremely erotic. After that interlude, we got up, pulled on our boxers and walked around some more.

“I'd like to put a door here and connect our house to Stef and Greg’s,” I said, pointing at a wall near the kitchen. “I figure that way the kids can go back and forth between our houses to use the pool, and so can we.”

“That’s fine,” he said, and shrugged. There was something bugging him, and I wanted to make sure this wasn’t an issue.

“Will that bother you, having a door there that gives us free access to their house and vice versa?”

“Doesn’t bother me at all,” he said dismissively.

“Well if that isn’t what’s bothering you, what is?” I asked him. It bugged me that he wouldn’t open up about shit and that I had to dig it out of him, but I’d asked pleasantly. My efforts were wasted.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, although it was more of a challenge.

“You cannot bullshit me,” I said, pairing those words with a very intense stare that changed his attitude. “There's something bothering you. Now spill it.”

He sighed and seemed to be collecting his thoughts before he spoke. “I think it's wrong of you to bring the kids out here.”

I stared at him, stunned and really pissed. “What the fuck?” I demanded, knowing I was on the verge of completely losing it. “You know how devoted and committed to Darius and JJ I am, and you knew that they were part of the deal that came with me! Now you’re saying you don’t want them around?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” he replied, with just enough volume to keep me from really going off like a Roman candle. “I just think that while your grandmother is alive, they should be with her.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Did you see the way she held little JJ?” Robbie asked. “Didn’t you notice how she dotes on Darius? When they’re with her, it’s like they light up her world. I think it would kill her to have them go.”

“She's dying anyway,” I said lamely. He gave me a nasty look for being an ass, one which I knew I deserved.

“Then let her enjoy her last days on this earth with those kids around her,” he said, then got really intense. “I will always be in her debt; I owe my freedom mostly to her, and you owe her at least that much.”

“You’re right,” I admitted, then got playful, “I’m surprised that you’re not anxious for them to move out here now. I thought you wanted to see if Jeanine was up for that threesome?”

“Why wouldn’t she be up for it?” he asked with fake arrogance, which made me laugh. “What’s gonna happen if she likes me better?”

“Then you can fuck her while I fuck you,” I said. I was half hard and about to do my part of that when the door flew open and Marcel came bounding in. He gave Robbie a big hug, and then did the same for me. He backed up and giggled, then reached down and grabbed my dick that was poking out of the slit in my boxers. I slapped his hand away.

“Hands off. I'm a married man,” I said. He faked a pout.

“It is great to see you!” Marcel said as he pumped some serious energy into the room. “I am so glad that you are going to be living next door!”

“It's great to see you too,” I said, then looked at him curiously. He’d referred to our moving in next door, implying that he wanted to live in Stef’s house. “Are you staying over there or are you moving in over here with us?”

He looked nervous. “It does not matter to me,” he said, only it was obvious that it did. I could kind of see where he was coming from, because when Jeanine and the kids moved out here, he’d probably rather live with Stef and Greg than with them.

“I was thinking that since we're right next door, and since you're already settled in with Stef and Greg, that if you want to stay there you can. It's your decision.” He eyed me. He was a smart guy, and he knew I was giving him an easy way out to get what he wanted without hurting our feelings.

“At least for the time being, that seems like a good plan,” he said, then chuckled. “Especially since you have no furniture.”

“I’m guessing that won’t be a problem for long,” I said. I looked at Robbie and we both grimaced.

January 8, 1986

Malibu, CA

Yesterday we were totally absorbed with decorators and contractors. Stef had great ideas, but when they were a little too out there, Robbie impressed the shit out of me by intervening. At first it annoyed Stef to be countermanded, especially by Robbie, but he finally stopped arguing and gave Robbie some credit for having damn good ideas too. Robbie had shown Stef that he could be imaginative yet practical. For me, it was an entirely different epiphany. If Robbie could stick up for what he wanted with Stefan, who had just given us a big fucking house and who was going to be my boss, then he was dealing with his self-esteem issues really well. I was so proud of him.

Today I had blocked the day to spend with him. I had a couple of surprises for him, and I was hoping he’d think they were good ones. “Where are we going?” he asked as we left the house.

“I have to run a few errands and we need to get you a car,” I explained.

“I don't want anything expensive. I just need transportation,” he said. “Shit, it doesn't even have to be new.”

“Whatever,” I said, and shook my head at his parsimony.

“We’ve already spent a shitload of money on our house,” he said. “The last thing we need to do is spend a bunch of money on a new car for me.”

“Look,” I said, pretending to be all severe, “The neighborhood rules set minimum standards for what kind of vehicle you can own. You can’t drive a piece of shit.”

“They do?” He asked curiously.

“No,” I said simply, getting an eye roll in return.

I pulled into the Wells Fargo bank close to our house and parked. “What are we doing here?” he asked.

“I have to transfer my bank account from Palo Alto to this branch, and I have to get new checks issued with my new address,” I said curtly.

“Oh,” he said, and reluctantly followed me in. “I should probably do that too.” I ignored him because I was planning to solve that problem for him.

I went over to the area where you opened new accounts and encountered a friendly young lady. “I'd like to transfer my account from the branch in Palo Alto to this branch,” I told her cheerfully, and handed her my checkbook so she could look up the number. She dutifully wandered off, and came back even nicer than she was before. I assumed the extra attention she gave us was because she'd seen that there was $400,000 in my account, or at least there was before the checks for decorating our new house cleared.

“I just need you to sign off on a few forms,” she said efficiently.

“I want to make this a joint account,” I told her. Robbie looked at me warily. “I want to add Mr. Hayes to the account.” She didn't miss a beat. She pulled out different forms, asked Robbie for his ID, and started typing.

“Bradley Schluter and Robert Hayes, JTWROS?” she asked. A ‘Joint Tenants With Rights of Survivorship’ account was used mostly for married couples, and it basically meant that the money in that account was now our money, not my money.

“That's correct,” I said. Robbie gave me a dirty look, but he signed off on the cards anyway. He probably wisely decided that it wouldn’t be smart to start an argument in the middle of the bank while opening a new account. We finished the paperwork then walked out of the bank and got into the car.

“I don't want your money,” he said defiantly as soon as we were in the Porsche. “I feel like a kept man.”

That really pissed me off, and he realized that as soon as I turned my evil gaze on him. “I get sick and tired of trying to fucking share with you and do nice things for you, and all I get in return is a bunch of shit. This fucking ring means we’re partners,” I said, gesturing at the bands I’d gotten us. “You’re not treating me like that. You say you feel like a kept man, well you’re the one who’s making it that way.”

“It just feels like all I do is take things from you; I never contribute anything,” he whined. I cringed when he did that and tried to ignore it.

“You will end up doing something productive. Either you’ll go back to school or you’ll find a job,” I said. “You are too smart and too talented not to. In the meantime, I've got enough money for both of us.”

“I feel guilty for mooching off of you,” he said. That just about set me free, but I calmed down and tried to explain things a different way.

“When your parents were married, did your mom whine constantly about spending the money your father earned?” He didn’t say anything, so I got a little more assertive. “Did she?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head.

“You know why she didn’t bitch about that?” I asked rhetorically. “Because that's how marriage works. What's mine is yours, and what's yours is mine. We're a fucking team. Got it?” I was being kind of mean while also joking, but I think he got the message.

“I got it,” he said.

“Now maybe if she spent a lot of his money, she'd be extra nice to him, you know, by sucking his dick,” I teased. “That's totally acceptable.”

“I don't want to think about my mom blowing my dad,” he said, cracking me up.

“You want an even worse visual? Think about your mom blowing Reverend White,” I said, even as the thought of that made me want to puke.

“That's fucking gross,” he said, then smacked me playfully. “I’m sorry. I guess I just need to get used to this.”

“That’s fine, but you managed to piss me off with all this bullshit about money, so I'm going to get my revenge by making you just as mad,” I said, but he knew I was joking now.

“How are you going to do that?” he asked fatalistically.

“I’m going to take you to buy a brand new, expensive vehicle,” I said, “and to make it up to me, you’re not going to whine or complain while I do it.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said. “Take me to a Toyota dealer.”

“A Toyota dealer?” I asked, not expecting that.

“Toyota,” he said firmly.

“You’re trying to make it really hard for me to spend a shitload of money,” I said, cracking him up, but I did what he asked and we went to look at Toyotas. I wasn’t sure what his plan was, but he totally blew my mind by deciding to buy a truck. The only person in my family who I remembered owning a truck was Roger, but that made sense because he’d run a fucking winery.

“I can't believe you want a truck,” I said to him as we stared at a base model Toyota pickup. “What’s that about?” The salesman looked at us curiously, probably trying to figure out how we were related. I was so tempted to lay a liplock on Robbie just to freak him out.

“Man, I've been wanting one of these ever since we saw Back to the Future,” he said.

“That’s one radical truck,” the salesman said. “We’ve got one just like it. A black 1985 Toyota Xtra Cab SR5 4-wheel drive pickup.”

“Let’s see it,” I said. He led us to the back lot where a guy was busy washing it up.

“We’re getting it ready, because these things move fast,” he said, his way of starting to barter with me. “It’s got a five-speed manual transmission, a roll bar with KC lights, and Smittybilt bumpers with more KC lights.”

“Shit,” Robbie said. His eyes bulged and he got a huge grin on his face. “This looks just like the truck Marty McFly got at the end of the movie.”

“You want to drive it?” the salesman asked.

“Absolutely,” I said. Robbie drove it around sedately, but I pushed it a little harder. It had a really spunky engine, and I had to admit that it was pretty cool being so high up. I could see over vehicles in traffic, and I could look down at hot guys in the cars around me.

When we got back, we had a few minutes to ourselves while the salesman went off to turn in the temporary plates we’d used. “You’re okay if we get this one?” Robbie asked nervously.

“We’re going to get this truck for you, because you like it, and because my surfboard will fit in the back,” I teased. The salesman returned and I bargained with the guy for a little bit, but I got frustrated and caved after their third offer.

It took longer than I wanted for them to finish all the paperwork and to get it ready, but after that ordeal the guy handed Robbie the keys, and we got in our respective vehicles and drove home. It was no surprise that I beat him back to Malibu.

I waited for him to get there, then rolled my eyes at how careful he was pulling it into the garage. I chuckled because it looked ridiculous parked next to my Porsche. “Come on, stud,” I teased. “You got yourself that macho truck, so why don’t you show me what a man you are.” So he did.