Summer - 15. Crush on You

The plans made by the Eight for Capital Pride weekend required changes when CJ arrived in Washington earlier than expected. Brunch at King and Dragon’s place near Dupont Circle, where the festivities would take place, was to be followed by time at the festival itself and a night of dancing. After the first weekend spent with CJ, Brett and César decided an evening of partying did not sound so interesting anymore. They told their friends they’d be heading to Rogo’s for dinner instead. Spending time with CJ was much more appealing. Potus and Pope decided they would join the two fathers and their son at the bar and also pass on the dancing. Brunch at the apartment on Q Street was relaxed; after eating and a few Bloody Marys, the men strolled the short distance to the festival where they planned to spend the afternoon.

“Hey, Dad, do you guys get together every weekend? I don’t remember it being like this last year.” CJ was walking between his dads when he asked César the question. He’d been allowed one cocktail with brunch, light on the vodka, which his dad thought made him feel as much a part of the group as he had the previous weekend. The uncles leading the way, the large group ambled down the sidewalk, enjoying each other’s company, and soaking up the warmth of the sunny day.

“Nope. The past few weeks have been unusual. You weren’t here at this time the past two years so you’ve missed all the early summer events.” César put his arm around CJ’s shoulders and gave him a sideways hug. Every time either one of the fathers touched him, or did anything else to show their fondness for him, CJ smiled. César was fairly certain their son had no issues with PDAs.

“I like this, Dads. I know it’ll be different once school starts, but I’m having a blast hanging out with you guys and the gang. It’s cool to be the kid in the crowd, y’all are always taking care of me. It’s a nice change from Miami.”

“Yeah, well, I think the guys are having as much fun with their nephew hanging around. Damn Dragon can’t stop bragging about you. You saw how he was last night at the StandUp reception.” Brett added his arm to CJ’s shoulders as he spoke and the boy responded by placing his own around the waists of the two older men.

“Stop y’all! Hell if it ain’t a Kodak moment. I need a photograph of the three of you the way you’re right now.” Trip, ever the reporter, had his big Canon camera hanging around his neck and was already raising it to his eyes appearing intent on capturing what he must have deemed an interesting shot. He had turned around, seen the boy walking between the two men, and smiled. “Guys, you look like the gay version of the All-American family. I can sell one of these pics for a bunch of money to almost any paper or magazine.”

“Remember the rules, Trip; no publicity unless CJ agrees to it.” Brett’s warning came an instant before César was about to express the same sentiment. Both fathers were on the same page when it came to protecting CJ’s privacy. Not easy when the kid went around acting like Bruce Lee, beating up bad guys in public.

“Don’t worry, Jarhead. If one gets published, I’ll be real happy. But no matter what, one will get printed and framed for my place. You guys look real good together.” Trip made his comment as he showed them the camera screen displaying the pictures he’d taken.

“Can you email some of them to me, Uncle Trip? I wanna post one on Facebook.”

“Will do it right after I download them to my laptop, CJ.”

“Uncle Trip?” Brett smiled as he asked the question.

“Yeah, Papa, he’s been hanging around Uncle Danno a lot so I think he’s becoming part of the family.”

“I think CJ’s right, Brett. Danno would be back at Rogo’s getting the place ready if it wasn’t for Trip and his two out-of-town friends being here. Can you believe he left his manager in charge on what will be a real busy day for them?”

“Not surprising at all, César. Adriano’s been working there for so long he can handle the place as well as the boss does. He’s as close to the perfect manager as Danno could have found.”

With the day rapidly heating up, CJ stripped off the navy blue Stand-Up Foundation t-shirt Ben Cohen had given him the previous evening and threaded it through a belt loop. One after the other, making one recall falling dominoes, each of the men shed their shirts, exposing a variety of well-honed bodies. Some were furry and some were hairless, but the result was the same―all were gawked at and often propositioned by the passing crowd. Each offer was met with smiles, good-natured ribbing, and a polite decline. CJ was now by himself, walking in front of the group, garnering attention from young and old alike.

Not all of it was sexual, a little smile could be seen on the faces of some of the men and women which appeared to hint at parental instincts. They frequently stopped to chat with people one or another of the Eight knew; they always took time to introduce CJ to their friends. When an invitation to audition was made to the boy by a representative of Corbin Fisher, César intervened. He informed the young man who made it his son was fifteen and told CJ it would happen over his dead body.

“A bit protective, babe?”

“Fucking-a, Brett! The kid can do whatever he wants in private, but hell if I’m going to let him become fodder for some creep’s jerk-off fantasy. Not while we’re responsible for him.”

“Hear that, JP? Betcha that possessive and protective display has Brett all horned up right now.” Hearing the exchange between his two friends, the cop had started laughing right before making his remark.

“Damn, Tommy, when did you turn into such a pig?” Replied JP while bumping his partner with his shoulder.

“When I joined the police academy?”

Walking through the many vendor and information booths, CJ stopped at the Human Rights Campaign display which had caught his attention. Approached by Quenby, a volunteer who reminded CJ of a Norse god, the teen’s hormones kicked into high gear. The short-haired, scruffy, blond man with the lightest green eyes the kid had ever seen, had CJ’s imagination running amok with images not suitable for the prudish. There was some innocent flirting which came to a stop when the boy’s age was revealed. Once again, the appearance of being older and fair game, left a drooling man visibly frustrated. César and Brett, standing a few feet away, worked hard not to laugh when they saw the look of disappointment on the booth volunteer’s face.

CJ and Quenby chatted a bit about the organization and its current activities before the youngster took out his debit card, made a donation, and walked away with yet another t-shirt for his collection. His dads let him know they were very proud of his interest in HRC and for taking the initiative to contribute. The Human Rights Campaign was a strong advocate for GLBT rights and one of the organizations César and Brett supported financially.

“I like their current emphasis on marriage equality, Dads. I know the District of Columbia allows it, but back in Florida it’s not legal and I think that sucks. The government’s saying they’ll grant some rights to straight people but will deny them to me because I’m gay. No fucking way that’s right.”

The two men again realized their kid was wiser beyond his years and their pride in him felt justified one more time. Stepping away from the booth, the boy again walked in front, leading the men towards the section with food vendors. Sex and food were definitely the teen’s primary interests.

Walking towards the group was Ian, the ginger guy the three men from Georgetown had encountered a few times and whom César had seen Chip with. He was accompanied by another redhead―a good-looking man with a very cool infinity symbol inked over his heart. CJ would later describe him as sex-on-legs and a walking wet dream. The man was a mass of muscles. Wild dark orange hair, resembling flames, covered his head, a bushy red beard did nothing to detract from his handsome face, and reddish-brown fur spread over his wide chest enhancing his sex appeal.

“Sup, Ian?”

“CJ! Seems we can’t get away from each other, man. We see each other at the gym all the time and now we’re running into one another all over town.”

“I know, right?” The boy was talking to Ian but was looking and smiling at the man standing next to him. “Ian, these are my dads, César and Brett. Dads, this is the guy who’s always at the gym when I’m there.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sirs, this is my big brother Sean, who’s visiting from New York.”

“Sean, Ian, nice to meet you both,” César said as he shook hands with both men. Although friendly, his tone held an edge to it. “Forget the sir, first name’s much better.”

“Welcome to Washington, Sean.” CJ bumped fists with the hairy man who gave the boy a smile and a wink. “You guys here alone? We’ve got a bunch of friends with us, I think some are walking ahead but these are my adopted Uncles Tommy, JP, Chip, and Doc. Why don’t you two join us?”

The men exchanged pleasantries as César, very aware of who Ian was, paid close attention to everyone’s reactions; ready to intervene if necessary.

“Yes, welcome to our city, Sean. Ian, good to meet you.” Chip appeared a little formal as he shook hands with the brothers. Ian gazed at him in a way that made Doc stiffen as the proverbial light bulb appeared to light up.

“Hello, guys.” Doc was brief but polite as he acknowledged the newcomers.

“What’s up, Doc? Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” Sean smiled and stared at the physician, the smile indicated his appreciation of the man’s good looks while his eyes reflected the realization something was amiss.

The newcomers were a perfect visual addition to the hunk parade being led by the fifteen-year-old now walking between Brett and Tommy. Behind them, Sean made it a point of sticking close to Doc engaging him in conversation while Chip and Ian walked side by side right, quietly talking to each other, a few steps after.

“Is that him?” JP quietly asked César as the two walked at the rear of the group. The rest of their friends had wandered off in different directions.

“Yeah. Did you see Doc’s reaction?”

“How could you miss it? I noticed even Sean caught on something was amiss. He kept shifting his gaze between his brother, Chip, and Doc.”

“I wish there was something we could do, JP. Our plans to confront Chip later on at the bar may be derailed if CJ invites the brothers to join us. The boy has no idea of what’s going on and I don’t want to bring it up to him now.”

“Fuck that. I’m confronting the tosser no matter what. If Chip refuses to speak with us privately, you take Doc out back to smoke a cigar, and I’ll bloody well call the asshole―”

“Hello?” Chip’s phone must have been on vibrate mode, no one heard it ring. “When did it go off?”

Doc had stopped and turned around when he heard his partner’s voice. He glanced at his friends walking behind them and then focused his eyes on Chip. He did notice Ian pulling out a key ring from his shorts’ pocket as if getting ready to go somewhere.

“I need to get to Georgetown, Doc. The alarm went off at the bank, the police think it’s a malfunction, but want me there before they enter the premises. I’ll catch a cab and meet you guys at Rogo’s later.” Chip looked directly at Doc but didn’t quite make eye contact. His demeanor reminded Cesar of what a child acted like when caught doing something wrong.

“I’ll give you a ride,” offered Ian. “I need to get back to campus anyway. Sean, ready to go?”

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll hang out a bit longer and catch a cab later. Maybe one of these guys will offer me a ride if they’re headed in the same direction?” Sean didn’t sound very convinced that would be the case. He appeared uncomfortable. Apparently, realizing his brother was someone’s dirty little secret made him feel dirty himself.

The look on Doc’s face showed sadness and defeat. The man appeared to deflate in front of his friends. He had to be admitting to himself the fears he harbored about his relationship with Chip were very real. The look of loss was not missed by Sean: he glanced at Chip with contempt, gave his brother a look that promised unpleasantness later on, and wisely said nothing. He stood close to the obviously heartbroken Doc offering silent support. He didn’t approve of what his brother was involved in. His demeanor reflected how bad he felt for the physician, as they watched Chip and Ian walk away.

“I think I’ll head home now, guys,” said Doc looking at the ground trying to hide the moistness in his eyes “I’m not really in the mood for hanging out at a bar tonight. And yes, Daddy César, I’ll go straight home, stay there, and call you sometime tomorrow morning.” The Alabaman’s accent was thick as molasses. He didn’t wait for an answer, quickly walking away while putting his shirt back on.

Sean turned around to face the remaining group of friends; he seemed embarrassed like an outsider intruding on a private family matter. Very slowly and distinctly he said: “I’m so, so, sorry, gentlemen. I had no inkling of what my brother was involved in. It’s probably not a good idea for me to go back to Ian’s place until later and remaining with you is not an option―a bit too awkward right now. So I’ll say goodbye, thank you for the company and once again, I apologize. I’ll find a bar to sit in for a few hours.”

CJ looked at the other men and realized what was happening. Somehow he kept his anger towards Chip under control, smiled, and decided he was going to lower the tension he felt growing around him. The previous week, he had used force to deal with a bad situation; this time he was ready to try something different.

“No need for that, Sean; guilt by association is not acceptable in my book. I believe you when you say you didn’t know what was going on, there’s no reason for you to lie. Hell, I just figured it out myself. So you hang out with us a bit longer, come to Rogo’s, buy me a couple of club sodas, and flirt with me. I’ll drool and look at you with adoring puppy eyes, until you realize I’ve got a crush on you!”

“Asshole!” came quickly from his dads. The men chuckled and the furry, redheaded man blushed before joining in the laughter and draping an arm around the boy’s shoulders. He made a show of inhaling deeply and noisily when Sean pulled him close, causing them all to laugh once again. There wasn’t much acting involved, he did get a rush from the smell of his body.

“Drool away, baby boy, my ego can use the boost! You’re cute. You’ll make some lucky guy a good husband one day.”

“Yeah right…” CJ burrowed closer to Sean, enjoying the man’s affectionate touch.

“CJ, mate, you are fucking brilliant! You sure you’re not an Aussie? Yanks are generally not so sharp at your age.”

Tommy spanked JP’s butt after his comment. “Watch it, buster, I’m one of those Yanks, you know?”

Doc went home to the condo in Crystal City, poured himself a large Four Roses bourbon, and sat in the twilight, staring at the magnificent skyline of Washington as the sun set while nursing his drink. This evening, that skyline didn’t take his breath away as it usually did; he barely noticed it. Frank Sinatra played in the background. Those old love songs usually calmed him, but tonight they deepened his sadness. Although sad, he was calm. He felt no real anger and no need for revenge. His fears had been confirmed and he was now free to move on. He knew the hurt would dissipate in time. Drawing strength from the overwhelming feeling of loss enveloping him, he sat in the encroaching darkness, mulling over options, and making some of the much-needed decisions required to move forward.

He awoke to the sound of keys opening the front door and someone quietly walking into the apartment. He was on the couch, his clothes were rumpled, there was an empty glass on the floor, and an almost empty bottle of booze on the coffee table.

“Come in, Chip. No need to be so quiet. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Sorry it took me so long, you know how those things go sometimes. Let me take a quick shower and I’ll join you for a drink.”

“Don’t bother, I can smell him on you. That boy has a mighty big crush on you. I hope you’re nice to him and don’t hurt him the way you’ve hurt me.”

“Matt, I…”

“Sit down, Chip. We need to talk. And please don’t lie to me. Show some respect for whatever we had the past few years we’ve shared our lives.”

The banker sat on a chair and stared at the twinkling lights of the city, unable to look his lover in the eyes.

“Is he the first one? Ian, I mean.”

The older man appeared to crumble into the armchair; the air let out in a loud breath. Defeat evident on his face, he softly replied: “No he isn’t, but I’ll get rid of him and I promise—”

“Stop, Chip, don’t make promises you won’t be able to keep. I’m going to pack a couple of things and then I’ll go check into a hotel until I figure out where I want to move.”

“Please don’t go, Doc. I’m sorry, baby. We can work through this. I never intended to hurt you.”

“But you did, Chip. You did hurt me. You ripped my heart out by breaking the promise you made when you swore you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. You promised to talk to me anytime doubts or questions bothered you. It’s a shame you also broke that one. Instead, you’ve been sneaking around, playing with a kid not much older than your own son, and treating me like a fool.”

“Stay here, I’ll go to a hotel for the night and we can talk tomorrow.”

“Save it. You own the condo, you stay. There’s nothing else I want to say about our relationship. We’ll talk about logistics but nothing else. This isn't some cheap romance in which the characters go back and forth and can’t make a fucking decision for the life of them. You hurt me, Chip. You hurt me like I’ve never been hurt before. You lied to me and you’ve killed my trust in you. Were we to reconcile and remain together, I’d always wonder if you were lying to me again. That’s not something I’m willing to live with. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.

“Let’s keep the separation as civilized as possible. There’s no need to throw tantrums or get nasty. Clear and cut, don’t expect me to come back, and don’t expect us to be friends. I recognize your weakness: that you’re not the man I thought you were, and that we need to go our own ways.”

His phone chimed indicating a text message.

――R U OK?――

It was from Brett.

――HEADED TO HOTEL―― Doc replied.

Seconds later the phone rang; Brett was calling.

“No hotel for you, bubba. César just ran downstairs to get the car and come pick you up. Bring whatever you need short-term or bring nothing at all. We can supply anything you need tonight or tomorrow morning. After we eat and talk in the morning, you can start making decisions and we’ll help you out any way we can.”

“Wait, what about your kid?”

“Our kid? Who the fuck you think forced me to call you and ordered his other dad to go get you?”