Chapter 13
December
"Sweetheart, I wanted to check if you were bringing someone with you for lunch tomorrow?" Matt's mother asked.
I'd love to have Julian there with me for Christmas Day.
During the past month, they had become closer. Matt moved his sparse belongings into Julian's room and now used his old bedroom at the front of the house as his office. The occasional smiles came more often and the teasing laughter echoed through the house as they worked. The lines defining a work relationship were blurred beyond recognition. They worked well together, side-by-side, progressing through the renovation on schedule, even with the long pauses in between for lazy kisses and lounging lunches on the single couch in the open space. Matt craved Julian's touch, the embraces, the need for proximity. He had never loved or felt as loved as he did by this man.
There was both passion and promise. Matt couldn't deny the explosive fire between them or the subtle gestures of tenderness. He could no longer go into the bathroom without thinking of their shower sex, and the bedroom was best left absent until after work, otherwise, they'd hibernate in each other's arms until the next morning. Even though Julian was usually quiet and reserved, he was always attentive to the slightest detail, using action rather than words when needed. He had slowly worked his way into Matt's heart and had managed to touch every part of his life, except his family.
"I could bring someone," Matt responded cautiously. His mind wandered back to that day in November seeing Julian in his suit and tie. Matt just wanted to have him dressed up again, all nice, polished, and shaved so he could rip it all off and lick every inch of that golden skin.
"Someone special?" his mother asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Matt knew better that to share the truth with his mother and was surprised she hadn't thrown some verbal jab at this point in their conversation. He decided it was best not to fan the flame.
"No, Mom, no one special. On second thought, it'll just be me," he said. He couldn't handle the maternal inquisition if he showed up at the mausoleum with the man he loved. Besides, he didn't want to subject Julian to his mother's wrath.
"If you don't plan on bringing someone, then I'll invite Eliza to join us. She was asking about you at the country club last week," his mother commented excitedly.
Matt cringed. The thought of Eliza's blonde hair in his face, her lingering perfume, or those perfectly manicured claws touching him set him off.
"No, Mom. Just us for lunch."
"She will be incredibly disappointed. I'll call her and you will—"
"No, Mom," Matt repeated more firmly in hopes of avoiding the detour in the conversation.
"Matt, I don't understand why you are so stubborn about this. Eliza is a wonderful young lady from a very prominent family. It would do you good to be with her and it might serve you well in your lackluster efforts in trying to bring your life back into a realm of acceptability. I'm going to call her—"
"I said no, Mom." He could feel the anger boiling inside. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in a weak attempt to try and control his tone. The constant innuendo and outright insults were grating on him. He was growing tired of the charade and being pushed past anything even remotely acceptable.
"I have come to accept that you don't know what is good for yourself. I had hoped you could do this on your own but obviously you cannot."
"Mom—"
"I just want to be proud of my sons but it seems you two have opted to drag our family name through the slums of society. I have one son intent on ruining his life with an opportunistic jezebel and another who refuses to try and rebuild his." Her voice was harsh and unforgiving, enough to trigger Matt's anger to explode.
"I am rebuilding my life." Every action since his release had been made toward the goal of rebuilding his life, his way.
"You are not. If this were your intention, you would settle down and begin a family with someone like Eliza whose name may help elevate your current abysmal status in society. Rather, you've chosen to continue your prison ways by hiding and shaming this family where I can't even bring myself to call you my son when others are talking about their children."
"Five years in prison doesn't make me any less your son," Matt yelled before slamming the receiver and disconnecting the call. He fought the pain that knifed through his chest at the rejection. He gripped the edge of the table with both hands, willing himself to control the anger coursing through his body. His hands began to shake. In a fit of rage, he grabbed the phone and threw it across the room, smashing it against the corner wall with a crash.
"Matt?"
Matt turned at the voice and was stunned to see Julian standing in the doorway of his office. Matt felt the color drain from his face. Hadn't Julian gone out? His heart raced and it was suddenly difficult to breathe. How much did he hear? How long has he been here?
"Prison for five years?" Julian said. It sounded more like a statement than a question.
He'd obviously heard enough. Shit.
"I thought you were going to pick up dinner?" Matt asked as he ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying to change the subject, attempting to slow the feeling of panic that began to rise within.
"I forgot my wallet," Julian said curtly as he straightened.
"Oh." Matt didn't know what else to say. He looked down and shifted the papers around, trying to busy himself and ignore the phone scattered into pieces at the corner of the room.
He sensed their first fight was imminent.
He had kept his time in prison a secret from Julian out of fear. Fear Julian would think less of him, fear Julian wouldn't want to do the job anymore. Fear Julian was too straight-laced to work for an ex-con, let alone be in a relationship with one.
It all boiled down to the same fear—that Julian would leave him.
He cautiously looked up and saw Julian staring at him with a piercing glare.
Matt couldn't move. He was terrified to say another word. He felt as if he'd walked onto a frozen lake, reached the center then suddenly felt the ice giving way under his feet. The wrong move and things would be irreparable.
Julian shook his head and snorted as he pushed off the doorframe and walked away.
Shit. Matt didn't know what to say or do, but he didn't want Julian to walk away. He dropped the papers and followed him out to the living room.
* * * *
Julian knew Matt held something back, he'd known since day one. But he never would have guessed a prison term. Matt didn't strike him as the kind of guy to do something that would result in doing time. Sure, people made mistakes. He knew about being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but Matt thought things through too much. Whatever this was, it wasn't random.
"J, wait," Matt said, worry clearly evident in his tone.
Julian stopped and abruptly turned. "Whatever it was, did you do it?"
Matt hesitated, began to say something then stopped. Resigned, looking down, he quietly answered, "Yes."
Julian knew Matt's moods, had learned his tells. Matt wasn't being completely honest. "Don't lie to me."
Matt looked up quickly and met Julian's gaze, but said nothing.
"Don't fucking lie to me!" Julian thundered. He couldn't contain the anger starting to build in him. Not because of whatever it was that Matt withheld, he was angry that Matt felt he needed to lie even after his secret was revealed. Did Matt not trust him? Did Matt not love him as much as he loved Matt?
"You wouldn't understand," Matt said quickly.
"Try me."
"No. Please. You won't understand."
Julian took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. "I said, try me."
Matt deflated.
Julian looked to the heavens and prayed for a quick shot of patience to contain his anger. He hated the fact that Matt had lied, but now that he knew, Julian wanted to hear the truth directly from Matt, but Matt refused. "Matt, just tell me."
"I can't."
Julian didn't know what he was supposed to do or say. He was closer to Matt than any other man he had ever had a relationship with. He knew it was different, it felt different, he felt different. He wanted to believe things with Matt were strong, able to beat anything that came their way. Since he'd moved into this house, he hadn't felt alone. There was something about Matt that allowed him to let his guard down, smash that iron barrier he tried so hard to keep up to protect himself. Every other guy had told him he was a hard-ass, he never opened up, never cared. None could relate to him, they didn't understand him, and each had lied to him more often than not.
Most had walked away simply because Julian refused to show emotion, say those three precious words, the same ones he so openly told Matt. Here he was now, with the man he loved so much telling him that he couldn't tell him the truth, that he just wouldn't understand.
What did I do to make Matt think I can't be trusted? Maybe I am the asshole these other guys painted me to be.
Julian knew he was fucked up, but for some reason, Matt loved him. So he tried to be the man Matt thought he was, put together, strong, independent, a hard worker. Yet, Matt couldn't trust him to tell him the truth, didn't believe Julian would understand?
"Can't tell me or won't?" For some reason, Julian thought it made a difference. He needed to know Matt trusted him, loved him enough to know that what they had was strong enough to pull through anything.
Matt looked away. "Both," he whispered after a few moments.
Julian couldn't breathe past the pain in his chest. His mind raced, trying to think of something, anything to rip away this wedge that had somehow managed to work its way between them.
"Why do you think I won't understand?" he asked, desperately trying to figure out what he was doing wrong.
"J, you're too fucking perfect to understand. Just please—"
Julian couldn't help but laugh at the irony. He was a better person around Matt, but he was far from perfect. "Matt, just talk to me."
"No, J," Matt said firmly, shaking his head. "You don't know what's going on. Not all of it. What I'm going through or what I'm dealing with. You've got a different take on things and you go with the flow. I'm dealing with something big and I just can't open up about it. You wouldn't understand."
"Will you stop fucking saying that! How do you know if you don't talk to me," he yelled and instantly regretted the tone. He hated yelling. It sounded all too familiar to a voice from the past he tried so hard to block out. Julian just shook his head. He was on the brink of snapping and he wasn't exactly sure why. He felt out of control. He paced the room from side-to-side like a caged animal. He needed to calm down and talk to Matt rationally.
"Sam said one day this would happen," Matt said miserably.
Suddenly, Julian stopped mid-step as realization dawned on him. "Is that how you met Sam? In prison?"
Matt lowered his head. "Yes."
No, he wasn't going to go there. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly and screwed his eyes shut. No, he wasn't going to get jealous. He lowered his head and repeatedly slapped the front of his shaved head with his palm as if he could push these thoughts out of his head that tried to provoke him. There wasn't anything between Sam and Matt.
Maybe, trying a different approach or question might work. "What are we building, Matt? I know it's not offices. What is it?"
Silence.
He walked up to Matt and grabbed his shoulders, almost lifting him off the ground. "Damn it, Matt. Talk to me, please." He sounded desperate and knew he must have looked frazzled. Matt was slipping away from him. He felt something boiling and making its way to the surface. His heart was slamming against his chest and each breath he fought to take left his throat burning. He didn't know what was happening and it scared the crap out of him.
Matt shook out of Julian's hold. "I can't. I just don't know how to do this."
"Do what, trust me?"
"I didn't say that. J, I do trust you."
"Then what it is, Matt? And don't fucking tell me I won't understand."
"You can't, J. It has to do with family, my brother, it's just all too much. Please, I'm trying to deal with this as best I can. I'm just trying to figure stuff out and know where I'm going. I have to do this on my own."
"Matt, don't you realize you don't have to deal with this alone? Please…just…" Julian couldn't finish the sentence. He wanted to say 'don't shut me out' and 'I would understand more than you think' but he couldn't get the words out. He was terrified he was losing control. He shoved his hands in his jean pockets to hide the tremble. He started to walk away. He couldn't face Matt right now, he didn't know what the right thing to say was and he already felt as if he was losing Matt with each additional word that left his mouth.
"J, don't walk away please…I…" Matt's voice was thick with emotion.
"Matt, I do understand. Whatever you tell me, I'll understand. I don't know how else to tell you that. I'm not perfect, but…just…" Julian deflated. He didn't know how to connect with Matt. He didn't know how to open up. He wanted to talk to Matt, he wanted to tell him everything, give them some common ground to meet on, but he couldn't. If he let everything out—every single detail of his own past—then he couldn't imagine Matt would ever look at him the same.
"J, my parents are difficult. It's hard for me to explain. For fuck's sake, they don't even know I'm gay."
Julian sensed Matt was giving up on him. He knew this tone in Matt's voice. He had to say something to get him to come back.
"I get difficult parents, Matt. I get it. I know what it's like to not be able to be yourself, to put up a front. I get it," he said calmly, trying to stave off whatever it was that was churning inside.
Matt huffed. "I can't imagine you putting up a front for anyone." He shook his head in disbelief. "My mother would probably disown me if she found out I was gay. J, you are who you are, and people like it or they don't. It doesn't faze you. You don't pretend." Matt ran his hands through his hair.
Julian straightened. Something in him tipped. Blindly, he stalked over to Matt, unwrapped the cuff he always wore, and held up his wrist to Matt's face without saying a word.
With obvious shock in his eyes, Matt looked at Julian, then back to the multiple slash scars marring the wrist.
Julian retreated, securing the leather cuff around his wrist again.
"When did you do that?" Matt said.
Julian heard sadness and shock in Matt's voice. He hated that. He was trying to convey to Matt that he was the strong guy Matt saw him to be, a survivor; that he was strong enough to help Matt through whatever he was dealing with. That he could understand a tough situation. Instead, Matt saw a weakness in Julian.
This opening up shit isn't working.
"I didn't do that to myself," he said immediately.
"But I thought this is why you were showing me?"
"No," Julian paused, trying to control his pounding heart. "My father…when I told him I was gay. I was ten. I just knew, so I told him. No sense dicking around the subject. He got…" He searched for the right word. "Pissed." Julian was shaking, wondering just how much he should say, wondered if he should stop now or keep going.
At what point does this opening up stuff actually work for people? 'Cause so far, it totally sucks.
"J…"
Julian shook his head. He couldn't talk about that anymore. "Just believe me I understand difficult parents, Matt. I know how to put up a front."
Matt just looked at him cautiously then cleared his throat. "I'm building a halfway house," he began quietly. "So people like me have a place to go, to rebuild their lives, get back on track. It's a long story but I'm trying to do something good here, J. I know my parents won't understand." He hesitated. "Most people won't understand what I am trying to do or why I am doing it."
Matt was looking for something and Julian wasn't entirely sure he had anything to give.
Is that how this thing works? Fuck, man, this is hard.
He took two deep breaths and closed his eyes, trying to regain some control. "If there had been one around, maybe my brother wouldn't have died on the street. Maybe he would have had some place to go." He paused for a moment and then continued. "My father wouldn't take him back. Not after he got out of prison, he actually kicked him out of the house. He was only eighteen. Hell, he didn't do much time, just a couple of months…wrong crowd, bad timing…but it was enough of a reason for my father to think he was garbage that you kick to the curb."
Julian couldn't stop. He tried to stop talking but couldn't shut the hell up. It was as if a dam had broken, and a wave of memories began flooding his mind.
"My brother tried to live on the streets, he didn't have a choice; we didn't have any other family he could turn to. Every time Mom tried to say or do something, my bastard of a father beat the crap out of her or me, whoever was closest. So my brother stayed away when he found out."
Julian talked and paced. He didn't know if he wanted to stand close to Matt or if he should turn away. He finally settled by the window and looked out into the dark night. He absently focused on the Christmas lights of the building in the distance. "My big brother lasted one week. One. Fucking. Week. That was it before the cops came knocking on our door," he said distantly. "I was twelve." He was quiet for a few moments.
"I think that's what killed my mom inside. She changed after that, made me promise to stay out of trouble. But she…changed. She got sick not long after that and it just…" He choked on the last word.
Julian wasn't good at emotions, he truly only knew a handful of them. Anger and fear, gifts from his father, love because of his mother. Everything else in between was merely self-preservation. He'd learned another since meeting Matt, jealousy. He'd discovered that one since the day he met Sam. The thought of someone taking Matt away set him off balance.
Julian finally glanced over to look at Matt. He wasn't regarding him like he normally did. Is that pity? He wasn't sure but he didn't like it. He didn't want Matt to see him as less of anything. He liked the way Matt usually looked at him, with awe, love, passion. He didn't want pity or that sadness in his eyes. He had hoped Matt would see that Julian could understand, that he wouldn't walk away from him. Instead, it seemed he had somehow managed to push away the one person he wanted to hold closer. All he had wanted to do was show Matt that he was strong enough to help him but somehow it was as if he had fucked it all up.
He had tried, but he didn't know how to do this. He didn't know what else to say or do. He felt the room closing in on him. He had to escape.
"J, wait!" Matt yelled after him.
"I can't…I just…I…" He couldn't breathe. He forgot which way was out. He started to pace and he felt the room getting smaller.
"J?"
He heard Matt's voice as if from a distance. He thought he heard concern but the voice was so faint it was difficult to make out. Everything started to blur. His pulse began to race. His head pounded and his hearing was attacked by a high pitched sound. He dropped to his knees and covered his ears. It wouldn't go away. It kept getting louder until it was almost deafening.
Oh fuck. He hadn't felt like this in years. Not since…
"J!" he thought he heard Matt yell.
He had to get out. He didn't want Matt to see him like this—to see him so low, at his worst. Matt needed someone who would listen, someone who would be strong by his side. That wasn't him.
"I can't do this," he brokenly whispered.
"J, do what?" Matt's voice shook.
He finally looked up and saw Matt, his eyes haunted, kneeling next to him on the ground.
Oh God, what have I done to him?
"This, I can't do this opening up stuff," he repeated, his hoarse voice faltered. His throat tightened, making it difficult to speak. "You need to be with someone who can do this with you," he said as he jerked upright.
"J…wait…no." Matt shot up next to him.
He chanced a look at Matt and saw fear in his eyes. He couldn't do this to him.
"I'm sorry," he said as he raced out the door into the night.