Chapter Four
Having therapy the day after his fantastic evening with Taz was both a blessing and a curse for Will. A blessing because it meant he could try and talk his way out of the no-sex promise he’d made five weeks ago. And a curse because everything with Taz still seemed so fragile that he hesitated to share it. He didn’t want anything to shatter what was still so breakable.
Hiding it from Dr. Taggert was impossible from the moment he walked into the shrink’s office, though, because Will had spent all day vibrating with nervous energy. And not the kind of nerves that came from his PTSD, but nerves over seeing Taz again. Getting to know him better. Knowing that just maybe, someone out there could love him, warts and all.
That he really, truly was more than a body to be fucked.
He plunked down in his favorite chair, then immediately began tapping his feet on the plush carpet.
“You look quite cheerful today,” Dr. Taggert said as he sat across from him.
“I am. Yesterday was probably the best day ever, even though I did have an anxiety attack because of work, but whatever.” The attack seemed totally unimportant now.
Naturally Dr. Taggert went there first. “What triggered this attack, Will?”
“Work.” He described the fund-raiser and being volunteered, going home and working through it.
“You know Sam would never put you in a situation she didn’t think you could handle.”
“I know, which is why the attack feels so stupid now. I mean, I get to work with Jonas again, which is cool. I don’t have a lot of details yet, but you know. It’s a fund-raiser setup, and it’s not like the whole crew will be strangers. I want to do this.” He needed to prove that he could.
Dr. Taggert smiled. “So tell me what made yesterday the best day ever.”
“Taz.”
“And what is that exactly?”
“Not a what, he’s a who.” Will squirmed a bit because he hadn’t told Dr. Taggert about the chat rooms. “After we agreed on the no-sex thing, I went online.” His shrink’s eyebrows went up. “Chatting only, not hookup sites or anything, I swear. I wanted to keep communicating with people, you know? And chatting seemed easier than, I don’t know, trying to start up a conversation in a coffee shop.”
“That makes sense. We didn’t agree to you becoming a hermit again, only to limiting your sexual activities.”
“It felt like a good compromise, since you can’t have sex with a computer. Well, I guess you can since people have private message sex chats and stuff, but that’s not what I wanted to do.”
“I take it Taz is someone you’ve been chatting with?”
“Yup.” Will couldn’t control his nervous giggle. “We’ve been chatting for about two weeks, and believe it or not, he’s got PTSD, too. And he has these episodes where he gets flashbacks and freezes up, and it’s so great talking to someone who gets it, you know? Who understands what PTSD is like and why something as simple as walking down a busy sidewalk can make me break out in a cold sweat. He’s great.”
“And you’re certain he is who he says he is?”
“Definitely. We met in person last night.”
“You did?” Dr. Taggert was working hard to keep his face neutral, Will could tell. “How did that go?”
“Well, we met in a public park. Neutral space. It was a lot harder on him, I think, because he doesn’t like leaving his apartment. He’s got scars on his face that I think he thinks are worse looking than they really are, so he stays inside. It took him so long to get to the park, I thought he’d stood me up, but then he was there and... I don’t know. I knew him, right away.”
“Because of his physical description?”
“That too, but it was like meeting someone for the first time that I’d known for years. We never really even touched, but I could feel him.” Will cringed. “Christ, I sound like some romance novel heroine, don’t I?”
“You sound like a young man who’s had a profoundly emotional response to meeting a new person. Someone with whom you’d already established a bond.”
“We really did. Bond, I mean. He told me how he got his scars, and about meeting his dad for the first time two years ago, and that his mom is a bitch who abandoned him, and that he figured out he was bisexual in high school but kept it hidden for a long time because he wanted to be a wrestling star.”
“Sounds like Taz told you a lot about himself.”
“Yeah.” Will picked at the hem of his baggy T-shirt. “I kind of feel guilty that he told me so much, and all I really told him is my mom’s in prison and I was molested for a few years.”
“You told him you were molested?”
“I had to tell him something, but I didn’t want to go into detail. Still don’t.” His stomach soured at the pitying looks he’d probably get if he told Taz about how his mother sold his ass for drugs. That for two years he’d been a thing, a transaction, not a person, and sometimes he still forgot he was a human being deserving of love and support.
“What you went through is a difficult thing to speak about to anyone,” Dr. Taggert said. “And you don’t owe anybody an explanation, especially not someone you’ve known for two weeks.”
“Except I feel like I’ve known him longer than that. Plus I’m hella attracted to him.”
That got Dr. T’s laser focus. “Oh?”
“Don’t worry, we didn’t fuck. Believe me, I wanted to, and so did he, but I told him about our agreement and about why I couldn’t have sex with him yet.” Taz’s reaction to him going out and seeking hookups came back and irritated him all over again. He crossed his arms, finding some satisfaction in Taz’s stunned expression after Will ranted about waiting for a magical penis to save him.
“Care to share what you’re thinking so hard about?” Dr. Taggert asked.
“Is it wrong that I like sex?”
It took three long, slow blinks for Dr. Taggert to respond. “Why would you think it’s wrong to like sex?”
“The way Taz reacted when I told him I hadn’t had sex in five weeks. When I told him about Guy, and then going out looking for other guys to fuck. He looked surprised, like I should be terrified of sex, and he doesn’t even know all of what happened to me. I mean, is it more fucked-up to like sex than to be afraid of it?”
“Liking or disliking sex isn’t the real question, Will. What you should be asking yourself, and honestly, is why you’re seeking out sex. Owning your sexuality and exploring what it means to be a gay man is healthy. Going to the extremes you did after Guy, hooking up night after night with strangers for the thrill of the moment, is not healthy.”
“So it’s okay that I want to have sex with Taz?”
“You tell me.”
Will frowned, then tried to work it out on his own. “I’m attracted to Taz. I know stuff about him. He isn’t an anonymous dude in a public place. He makes me feel good about myself. He makes me laugh.” He grinned. “He really makes me laugh. And yes, I’m horny. I’m nineteen years old, for Christ’s sake. But it’s more than that. I want to make him laugh, too.”
“Then I think you have your answer,” Dr. Taggert said with a smile.
“So does that mean I can break our moratorium on me having sex?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared at Will in that quiet, assessing way that meant he was thinking hard on his answer. “When we both agreed to you not having sex for a short period of time, it was in an attempt to curb a bad habit. To detox you from an addiction, so to speak. We also did not anticipate a curveball such as Taz coming along and providing you with an even stronger temptation. Ours isn’t an agreement that I can punish you for breaking.”
Will grunted. “You aren’t saying yes, and you aren’t saying no.”
“I’m saying that you are an adult, and part of being an adult is making difficult decisions. All I can do is advise you against starting a sexual relationship this soon, especially since you and Taz have only been communicating for two weeks.”
But I feel like I’ve known him for so much longer than that.
“However,” Dr. Taggert continued, “it does sound as though Taz could be a very good friend for you.”
“I think so, too. I mean, he doesn’t think it’s weird that I’m on disability or live in a halfway house. He’s like the most chill person I’ve ever met, despite what happened to him in college.”
“The scars you mentioned?”
“Yeah.” It didn’t seem right sharing those details with his shrink without Taz’s permission. “I liked having someone else get mad on my behalf. It’s nice knowing someone actually cares.”
Dr. Taggert tilted his head. “You don’t think you have anyone in your life who cares about you?”
“Not like you and Jennifer. You’re adults who are supposed to care. He’s a stranger who’s into me, and not just so he can get into me, you know? I mean, he was pissed when I told him how Guy dumped me, and he looked like he was going to spit fire when I accidentally let out that I was abused by more than one person. Does that make sense?”
“It makes a lot of sense, Will. There’s a new person in your life who is completely outside of your recovery who cares. You deserve to have a person like that.”
“I’m just not supposed to fuck him.”
“That’s up to you. I’m here to listen and offer guidance, not to tell you how to live your life.”
“I am.” The truth of those words hit Will in the chest and nearly knocked the air from his lungs. “I am living my life. Not just surviving one day at a time. I’m living.”
“Yes.” Dr. Taggert’s proud smile only drove it all home harder. “Yes, you are. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
It was an epiphany, yes, but not a cure. He had a lot of work left. His anxiety was something he’d probably battle for years, and he was okay with that. But he was making friends. Making plans. Doing things regular guys his age did, instead of hiding away like he’d done last year, or falling into a sex addiction like a month ago.
And now, more than anything, he wanted to share his epiphany with Taz.
* * *
Will hadn’t logged into the chat room all day, and Taz wasn’t sure how he felt about that. After chatting every day for two weeks, not seeing Will’s handle online unsettled him. Sure, it was only four in the afternoon, and sometimes he didn’t get on until around now if he was working, but he was pretty sure Will didn’t work on Wednesdays.
So he ignored the chat room and watched a rerun of Ellen’s talk show. Transcription work was done for the day. Peter was supposed to come over around eight with pizza, beer and a movie. They did that at least twice a week, and it was one of Taz’s favorite things. Spending time with his dad, with nothing more important to do than relax and enjoy. An emotional connection he depended on.
The unexpected knock on his door at quarter after four nearly knocked him out of his desk chair. Adrenaline buzzed through his bloodstream and left a faint metallic taste in his mouth. He swallowed hard against a tide of nausea. No one should be knocking.
A second round, and then, “Taz? You home?”
Will.
It still took Taz a moment to unlock his frozen muscles and get to the door. He checked the peephole to be sure before he opened it. Will grinned at him, a white paper bag in his hands, practically vibrating in place. Taz blinked stupidly, totally confused as to what was happening.
“Hey, you.” Will’s grin dimmed a bit. “Is this a bad time?”
“I, uh, no.” He shifted to the side so Will could come inside, then locked the door again. “What are you doing here?”
“Early dinner.” Will shook the bag. “Sandwiches and pickles, like yesterday.”
“Oh.”
They stared at each other, Will’s initial excitement fading into a deep frown. “Is it okay that I came over? Shit, it’s not, is it?”
No, it’s not okay. This isn’t part of my routine. No one drops by like this.
“It’s unexpected, is all.” Taz didn’t want to make Will feel bad for coming over without calling first, but he’d been tossed off course and he wasn’t sure how to right himself. “My dad’s the only one who ever visits.”
“Right. Look, I can go. No hard feelings.”
“No!” Taz liked that Will had come to him, not only with food, but with a great big smile on his face, and he wanted Will to smile again. “I need a minute to get my bearings. A friend dropping by isn’t something that’s happened here before.”
“I’m sorry, I should have called or texted or something.”
“No biggie.” Except it kind of was a biggie. For Taz. Taz had to deal with his stupid issues, and he hated that he’d made Will feel bad about trying to do something nice.
His nose zeroed in on the bag and the wonderful smells coming from it.
“I got the same thing you wanted yesterday,” Will said, all shy smiles now. “Is that okay?”
“You remembered my order?”
“Pretty sure I remembered everything.”
Taz grinned, some of his initial anxiety sloughing away. “That’s really cool. Thanks.”
Will shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Sometimes I remember random things like sandwich toppings, and sometimes I can’t find my own shoes in my tiny bedroom.”
“We all lose our shoes sometimes.” Taz cleared a spot on the coffee table, which was somewhat overrun with sports magazines and old newspapers. “Get stuff set up. I’ll bring drinks.”
“Cool.”
Their arms brushed in passing, and it did funny things to his insides. Taz escaped to the kitchen, then stared at the refrigerator’s interior for several long seconds, totally lost as to what he was supposed to be doing, because he had a boy in his apartment for the second day in a row. A boy who’d come all on his own, with food, and he’d shown up really happy about something.
Sodas.
He grabbed two cans of soda. One cola and one root beer, because he’d forgotten to put more warm cans of root beer in to chill last night. He’d let Will pick and then drink the other one.
Both sandwiches were laid out on their waxed paper with a pickle and napkins. Will was kneeling on one side of the coffee table, and he tracked Taz with wide, happy eyes. Taz knelt opposite him, like they were having a picnic in his living room. Will picked the root beer, which was totally cool with Taz.
“I really am sorry I showed up like this,” Will said. “I didn’t think about how it might throw you off your routine.”
“You were trying to do something nice.”
“And I wanted to see you.”
Taz fought off the urge to flinch. He didn’t like people to see him, which was exactly why he preferred to stay in his apartment. But Will hadn’t meant it like that. He didn’t want to see Taz; nobody liked to see him. He was too fucking ugly. Will probably just wanted to talk or something. Taz wasn’t going to say all that, so he reached for a joke instead. “Miss me already?”
“Yes.”
He blinked. “You did?”
Will’s shoulders drooped. “You didn’t miss me?”
“Sure I did.” Taz had jerked off in the shower this morning to the memory of Will’s soapy-sweet scent. He hadn’t even felt guilty about it, because Will had been really clear about being interested in him.
No-sex rule, though.
“Good.” Will picked up half his sandwich, which looked like the same plain turkey on white as the day before. “I had therapy today.”
As far as conversation starters went, that was a brand-new one for Taz. “Oh? Did it go well?”
“Yup.” He grinned. “I realized that by pursuing you, by being with you, I’m starting to live my life again. Mostly I just exist, you know? Get through one day at a time. But us? This? It’s actually living.”
Taz worked through that sentence by sentence, his understanding growing with each word he puzzled out. Will had discovered something profound about himself today, and he’d come to Taz to celebrate. He’d come to the person he was living with again. “I’m helping you live?”
“Duh. I mean, come on. Hiding in my room wasn’t living. That secret affair with Guy was kind of an attempt at it, but it wasn’t right. Going out for anonymous sex wasn’t living the right way, either, and I understand that now. But this, Taz?” He gestured between them. “You and me? This is real. This is special.”
Taz’s blood hummed. He hadn’t been anything special in a long, long time. “It’s special for me, too. You’re the first person besides my dad who’s wanted to hang with me in two years.”
“Well, you haven’t exactly gone out of your way to make friends.”
“I guess.” He looked at his food, feeling stupid and uncertain all of a sudden and not sure why. Maybe this was only special for Taz because Will was the first friend he’d made in forever. Maybe he was only attracted to the idea of Will, because he didn’t look at Taz like he was ugly or broken.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Will said, so stricken that Taz looked up. Into a pale face and trembling hands.
“Sorry for what?”
“Whatever I said that made you look so upset. Was it about you not making friends? I didn’t mean it in a mean way. I was only—”
“Stating the obvious.” Taz shrugged one shoulder. “I guess for a second, I was scared that this, us, was only so amazing because you’re my first friend in years.”
“Nah, it’s because I’m an amazing friend.” Will puffed and preened until Taz laughed.
“Yeah, you are.” He picked up his sandwich and took a big bite. All kinds of flavors filled his mouth, and he enjoyed the layers of spicy, tangy and sweet.
“You are too, you know,” Will said after a few minutes of silent eating. He’d only taken a few careful bites of his turkey sandwich, then put the rest down.
Taz paused before polishing off the last bit of his first half. “I am what?”
“An amazing friend. And living again. By having dinner with me.”
“In the safety of the apartment I hate to leave.”
“Meh. Baby steps.” Will cleared his throat. “I, um, also talked to my shrink about the whole no-sex thing.”
Taz’s hand stayed frozen in place, that final bite inches from his lips. “Oh?”
“He said I was an adult and could make my own choices.”
Uh-oh.
Taz swallowed hard. “About sex?”
Will gave a slow, deliberate nod.
“But I thought you guys came up with the ban for a good reason,” Taz said, uncertain why he was protesting something he wanted a whole hell of a lot.
“We did. To curb my descent into unhealthy bathroom sex with strangers. But you aren’t a stranger, Taz.”
“Near enough. We only just met yesterday.”
“We’ve known each other for two weeks.”
“That’s still not a lot of time.”
Will frowned, his hands falling into his lap. “I thought you’d be happy about this. You said you’re attracted to me.”
“I am.”
“Good.” He crawled around the coffee table in such a slinky, seductive way that Taz’s dick took notice. Will sat on his haunches, his knees inches from Taz’s thigh, then pulled two condoms out of his jeans pocket. “I came prepared this time.”
Taz’s heart thudded, and his pulse raced—only not in the fun “oh, yeah let’s do this” way. It was the “oh, shit what do I do” kind of reaction to a situation he wasn’t prepared to handle. He thought they’d put the whole matter of sex this soon to rest last night, but now Will looked like he was five seconds from climbing into his lap. And if he did that, Taz wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop.
Except Taz was scarred and overweight, and he wasn’t anyone special. Will didn’t really want him, he wanted to have sex. And once upon a time, Taz might have been okay with that, but he didn’t want casual sex to ruin their friendship. He needed this friendship more than he needed an orgasm. And he had a feeling that, deep down, so did Will.
Taz stood so fast he banged his knee on the coffee table, which made him stumble onto the couch, swearing loudly. Will stared up at him from the floor, his pretty face a mix of confusion and hurt, and Taz hated himself for putting those emotions there.
* * *
Will’s excitement died a fast death under the bewildered, almost stricken look on Taz’s face. He’d scrambled away from him like Will was toxic, and that hurt. A lot. “You don’t want to have sex?”
“No, I do.” Taz clutched at his knee. “Not today.”
“Why not?” He hated the petulant tone of his voice, but Will was confused and let down and inching into humiliated from his earlier crawl across the floor. Guess he wasn’t as seductive as he’d hoped.
“It’s too soon.”
Will snorted. “Yeah, right. It’s so soon that you had a boner the whole time I was here yesterday.”
“I do want you, Will, but your shrink—”
“Said I could make my own decision.” He’d come here armed with food and condoms, and the hope that maybe, just maybe Taz really wanted him like he said he did. A hope that was being beaten hard against the rocks of reality. His heart sped up; his fingers began to tremble. Lungs started to seize.
No, not in front of him. I won’t.
I see the moon and the moon sees me. I see the moon and the moon sees me.
“And I can make a decision, too,” Taz said. Gentle and nice, and that made the words hurt even more. “I want to wait until we know each other better.”
Anger started to overtake the encroaching panic attack, and Will lurched to his feet. “You think I’m some kind of sex-crazed whore, don’t you? I mean, you sure looked at me like I was yesterday when I said I’d had sex a few weeks ago. Poor little abuse victim turned slut, right?”
Taz’s mouth flapped open, but he didn’t say anything. Not even that Will was wrong about everything he’d said, and that felt like a kick to the balls. A fresh blast of anger carried him to the apartment door.
“Fuck you,” Will yelled as he slammed the door behind him.
Heart pounding too fucking fast, Will raced for the stairwell. It was dark and smelly and not safe, but he sat in a corner of the landing, drew his knees to his chest and tried to breathe. His own adrenaline was fighting with the panic, leaving him shaking and queasy and really, really hot.
Of course Taz didn’t want him. No one would. Not for real. Guy had, but only because he missed his boyfriend, and besides, Will had never told Guy about his past. If he’d mentioned it, Guy probably would have dumped his used-up ass sooner. Genuinely kind people like Taz didn’t want broken people like Will.
Never should have met him in person. Should have just stayed chat room friends.
Daring to hope had been beyond stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Why do you feel stupid, Will?” Damned shrink’s voice, asking the same question he’d asked dozens of times in the past three years.
“Because I keep trying to be something I’m not,” he whispered into the stuffy stairwell. His throat hurt but he wasn’t going to cry.
I see the moon and the moon sees me. The moon sees the somebody I’d like to see.
He’d thought maybe Taz had seen that somebody, too, but he hadn’t. No one ever would, because that somebody wasn’t real.
He never would be real, no matter what Jennifer tried to make him believe.
“You’re more than your past, Will,” she’d told him the first night he’d spent under her roof as her foster son. The first of many long nights when he’d wake them both with his night terrors. “Someday you’ll see that, and so will everyone else.”
He’d argued, of course, seeing no value in his own life beyond what others could take from him. Jennifer didn’t let him get away with the self-loathing, though. She never had.
“I’m going to teach you something that helped me get through some serious depression in college, okay?” she had said. “It’s a very old nursery rhyme, but I think you’ll understand why it’s an important one, okay?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“I see the moon and the moon sees me. The moon sees the somebody I’d like to see. God bless the moon and God bless me. God bless the somebody I’d like to see.”
It had taken him months to bother memorizing those four simple lines, and over a year before he truly took the words to heart. And now they were his lifeline, a mantra he wasn’t sure he could live without. They soothed his anxiety when nothing else could.
Once he’d finally stopped shaking all over, Will stood and descended the stairs. Outside in the hot summer air, he started going faster. Walking without direction, simply needing to get away. Get someplace else that wasn’t near Taz and the false future Will had seen with him. He walked until he was on a familiar street lined with tobacco stores and cheap bars that opened at eleven in the morning, that were packed at happy hour and where no one cared if you bought your underage companion a drink.
The place he chose was half-full, some people eating at tables, most lingering around the bar and pool tables. He’d come here a few times last month when he was cruising. Straight guys looking for a walk on the gay side were great targets for a fast, hard fuck. He picked a stool near the corner of the bar so he could angle outward and watch. The bartender quickly filled his order for a cola. More to use as a prop than because he was thirsty. He didn’t feel anything except numb.
Being able to sit in a public place, surrounded by strangers, should have been a win for him. Sure, it seemed like an improvement over his days of hiding at the halfway house in between days at the Stanley Center, but was it really? Here he was hiding surrounded by strangers, but still hiding. Hiding from his past, from who he was, and from the person he was certain he’d never get to be.
Normal. Loved. Whole.
A tall brunet in a construction vest was cruising him from a table nearby. Will did the same, but he was too old. Too dark haired.
He’s not Taz.
Well, tough shit, because Taz didn’t want him, so no sense in pining for another tall ginger to take him to bed. And Will wasn’t exactly dressed like someone on the prowl, with his loose jeans and blue T-shirt. He probably looked like a high school student who got lost and came in for a cold drink.
Not that Will had ever gone to high school. He dropped out of school completely when he was thirteen, and no one ever came looking for him. And he’d been so stupid and broken when he first went into foster care that no way could he have survived public school. Jennifer had done her best to homeschool him, but he hadn’t managed to test for the GED before he was booted out of the system. Now it didn’t seem all that important.
School is bullshit, anyway.
He failed at everything he tried to accomplish. GED? Fail. Getting his shit together and getting a job? Fail. Steady relationship with Guy? Fail. Having sex like a normal person? Fail. Making a brand-new friend with boyfriend potential? Mega fail. After today he’d be lucky if Taz still talked to him in the chat room.
His phone vibrated. Taz was calling him.
Will stared at the phone until voice mail picked up. Two new message alerts: one voice, one text. He erased the voice without listening to it. He couldn’t handle hearing Taz’s warm, comforting voice trying to make excuses—or worse, saying goodbye.
The text might not be so bad.
I don’t think you’re a slut. At all. I handled all that badly, and I’m sorry. Please call me so I can explain.
He didn’t want an explanation. He didn’t want excuses or reasons why. All Will wanted was for someone to fucking want him.
He wanted Taz to want him, and he didn’t, and Will had to live with that.
Raucous laughter drew his attention to one of the pool tables in the back of the bar. Four men surrounded it, two taking turns shooting. Midthirties, early forties. Nothing special about them, but one peal of laughter had stood out from the others. Something familiar about it. Will zeroed in on the guy leaning against the wall, a beer bottle in his hand. Grungy band T-shirt. Red bandanna on his head.
One of his buddies said something, and Bandanna laughed again.
The sound scraped down Will’s spine like a blade.
“Fifteen and you ain’t never done smack?” The laughter. “How about I set you up as a birthday present, before I get mine?”
Most of the time, he hadn’t bothered to look at the faces of the men who used him. It was easier to block out those hours of his life if the men were vague apparitions who appeared and then left once they got what they wanted.
After nearly a year of being sold, he’d hoped to spend his fifteenth birthday in peace. He’d even stolen himself a pack of snack cakes to celebrate with, and he’d been as quiet as possible all day, hoping his drugged-out mother didn’t notice him. Wanting this day all to himself.
Until he came into the house, and then into Will’s bedroom. For the first time since it all began, Will had tried to refuse. He’d even cried. He’d wanted one day. One fucking day. And it was his birthday. The guy seemed to take pity on him at first. Asked if he wanted to get high. “First hit’s free, a birthday present from me to you, kid.”
So Will shot up with heroin for the first time in his life, and while he was lost in a blissful haze, the guy fucked him. He’d laughed a lot, too.
Something made the guy with the beer in his hand and the red bandanna look up. Right at Will.
Time slowed down. Everything around him froze. Even his heart seemed to stop working. Bandanna’s eyes popped wide.
Will’s entire world went gray. He vaguely recalled falling off the stool. Hitting his elbow. Cracking his head on the hard floor. Then nothing but cold and fear and rough hands pinning him facedown on a dirty, stained mattress.