I HAD SPENT SO MUCH of my life, up to that point, believing everything that my father had said to me. The fact that parents are supposed to be nurturers and supportive of their children’s dreams was lost on my father. As far as he was concerned, I was worthless. I was nothing but a good-for-nothing queer—how he knew before I did, I will never know. I would never amount to anything. It formed every decision I made and dictated what I felt about myself. I actually saw myself as all of those things he had ingrained in me.
I remember when I was a sophomore in high school, just before everything happened, I was in a show choir. We rehearsed twice a week after school, learning new songs and new dance routines. I was in heaven, but my father always looked down on it. He felt it was unmanly and had no problem telling me so. We moved into a new house midway through the school year, forcing me to change schools and leave behind activities I enjoyed. To this day, there’s a part of me that believes that part of the reason for the move was to get me out of that school and away from that “unmanly” hobby.
Once I transferred to my new school, my father pulled me aside and point-blank told me that if I ever got involved in anything like that again, he would kill me.
To have my life threatened by my very father was a frightening proposition. I knew he wasn’t kidding, he was deadly serious. My father did not make idle threats. He had the tenacity to back them up. Despite the alcohol.
Ghosts of my father haunted me, and made it difficult for me to believe anything positive that anyone had to say about me. His voice became that of my subconscious, and would remind me continuously what a worthless piece of shit I was.
Adam’s presence in my life changed that, on a fundamental level. He reminded me constantly of the good I could achieve and the strength of my character. He made me feel my own value, and the value that others had in me. It conflicted with everything I had been taught about myself, and made me question my own identity. There’s something to be said for seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes. Adam saw me completely differently than my father had, and had absolutely no problem vocalizing that. Now, relying on someone else’s opinion of you to bolster your own can be dangerous, you can start believing in everything they say and lose focus of your true identity. I had with my father, but I was beginning to see that perhaps Adam was right.
How could someone as strong, outgoing, charismatic, and compassionate find anything of value in me? And yet he did.
It would be easy to say that he kept coming around because I was an easy lay, but truth be told, I was not easy. My own lack of sexual experience embarrassed me. There I was, a twenty-eight-year-old gay man, and had just given my first blowjob a few weeks earlier. How does something like that even happen? And yet, it was the truth of my life. No one had ever engaged me the way he did, and I never wanted to simply sleep with someone for the sake of getting off. I had two hands for that act, and I was quite proficient at that.
My own self-doubts plagued me for weeks. My nerves were frazzled. Why had I opened my mouth and made the suggestion about the Halloween event? Now, people were counting on me to perform, and if I failed, there was the very strong likelihood that it would make Adam look bad too. The idea of him looking bad spurred me on, and made me want to succeed, not just for me, but for him as well.
Owen and Greg volunteered to assist with the preparations for the night. They both seemed to be impressed with the idea. Owen went so far as to wrangle in the aid of Chad, the owner of The Chipped Cup, and Beatrice, the lady that owned the used book store next door. All three had connections throughout the community, and had no problem convincing others of the value of this, even if for nothing more than free publicity.
Owen, Chad, and Beatrice donated some of their own money to the cause. Owen went so far as to have bags made with all three business logos emblazoned on them that could be used to pile the candy into.
Adam and Ryan had spent enough time at the hospital to become friendly with some of the staff. Even though Lucas was at home and resting comfortably, Ryan still kept in touch with the doctors and nurses. The entire staff seemed to be on board for this.
Then there was Adam.
Adam supported every decision I made, every idea I had. He stood by my side, both physically and emotionally, every step of the way. I found myself relying on his strength when I thought things might fall apart, and it was with his help that I kept it together, all the while he kept me together.
-We need to get you a costume.
That was the text I got from Adam the Thursday before the event. I smiled down at my phone. I did a lot of that when he texted or called. I had been so preoccupied with organizing the event that I hadn’t given any consideration to what I would wear. But leave it to Adam to think about it.
-I haven’t dressed up since I was ten. I sent back. And that was the truth. Halloween, and most holidays, lost any meaning the following year.
-So? You have to.
-Who says?
-I do. It’ll look kinda funny if you’re the only one of us that’s not in a costume.
My curiosity was piqued. I had heard nothing about anyone else dressing up. I had to admit, I found the idea of three grown adults dressed up in costumes somewhat ludicrous and humorous at the same time.
I thought about it for a moment, and conceded. -Fine. What’re you going as?
-I’m not tellin’. :-P
I could picture Adam’s face as he sent that, tongue sticking out like a child’s, and I couldn’t help but to bark out a laugh.
-Suggestions?
-We’ll figure it out when we get there.
-There? Where’s there?
-I’ve been doing some research.
-Oh, you have?
-Yes, smartass. There’s a place near you called Costume Holiday House. They have JUST what we need.
-And how do you know what we need?
-I’m smart that way. He sent, along with a smiley face emoji.
God, what this man did to me.
-I’ll look it up and meet you there.
-No, I’ll pick you up. You’re off, right?
-Yes.
-Other plans?
-Just the usual.
-Then we’ll make a day of it. How soon can you be ready?
Suddenly, I felt lighter than air. How could I say no. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to spend the day with you.” That would be a total lie. I wanted nothing more than to spend the day with him. More if possible. Why he wanted to sacrifice his time for me was completely beyond me.
-An hour?
-See ya in an hour.
I knew it wouldn’t take me an hour to get ready. It never did. But I wanted some extra time to calm myself. A giddy excitement had shot through me the moment I saw his name on my phone’s screen, and had stayed with me throughout the short conversation. I was still becoming accustomed to the feeling, and needed time to process.
My “usual” on Thursdays consisted of grocery shopping. Because I took the bus, it had a tendency to be an all-day proposition, so I usually didn’t make any other plans. Until Adam came along. I was beginning to view my life as two distinct different time periods: Before Adam, and After Adam. That should have scared me, but I was finding that the more I examined it, the less frightening it was.
I showered and primped. As I stood in the mirror adjusting a shock of hair so that it was just right, I had to laugh at myself. I had never taken the time before to look decent just to go grocery shopping. It was the most mundane thing you could imagine. Who cared what you looked like? Hell, people shopped in their pajamas. And yet there I was, doing what I could to look as perfect as possible. Whatever that was.
The unmistakable sound of Adam’s truck pulled me to the window. Grabbing my keys, I closed and locked the door and ran down the stairs, smiling the entire way.
Adam leaned across the cab of the truck and popped the door open. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I said.
He reached to the center console and pulled out a covered cup, and handed it to me. “Coffee. Black, right?”
Now, for most, the simple act of someone bringing them a cup of coffee in the morning wouldn’t be a big deal. It really shouldn’t have been, it is only coffee, after all. I had done it for Owen more times than I knew over the years. Still, the thought that Adam had thought about me enough to get it without my asking meant more to me than it probably should have.
As he pulled out of the parking lot, he asked, “Any idea who you wanna be?”
He reached for my hand across the center console, interlacing his fingers with mine
Anyone but me. “Absolutely no idea. I honestly haven’t even thought about it.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“But I am. I told you, I haven’t put on a costume since I was ten.” What I didn’t tell him was that I had been hiding virtually my entire life. Why bother with a costume?
“I think you’d look hot as Namor, Prince of the Seas,” he said, raising our joined hands to his lips, and kissing the back of mine.
“I’m impressed. Throwing out the name of Marvel’s first mutant.”
“I told you, I’ve been doing some research. You in a little green Speedo. Fantastic.” He waggled his eyebrows up and down and leered.
I chuckled, trying to form an image of that in my mind. I knew I was too thin to pull it off. Namor is buff, and I’m…well…not. “Research, huh? Should I ask what else you’ve been ‘researching’?”
“Besides the costume shop? Lucas’s illness mostly, but also Toledo. I was away so long that it’s weird being back. It still feels like home, but everything’s different now. My old school is gone, the grocery store we shopped at as kids has closed. But there’s so much here that’s new too. I need to find my way again.”
There was a wistfulness to his voice, a hint of regret. Toledo had been my home for my entire life, and yet at the same time, I had stayed within the confines of my own little area. I had witnessed the changes firsthand, moving from once vibrant to a shadow of itself, all in slow motion. Adam had been gone for years. The changes the city had gone through must have seemed more drastic to him, and much more shocking.
“If we have time, there’s a little diner I want to take you to. Doesn’t seem like much, but the food is fantastic.”
“You’ve already scoped it out?”
“Yeah. Found it online and decided to give it a try. The food tastes just like Mom used to make.”
I began thinking about my own mother. I tried to remember what her cooking smelled like, what her face looked like, how she wore her hair. I couldn’t.
He squeezed my hand. “You okay? You went away for a second.”
I glanced at him and tried to smile. “I’m fine,” I lied. “What else is on our agenda.”
“Costumes, diner, groceries, and whatever else. My day’s open.”
“Mine too. I have to work open to close tomorrow, though. Trish is off, and its game night.”
“Early to bed with you, then, mister. Wouldn’t want you dragging ass,” he teased.
We’d spent the rest of the drive in comfortable silence, hands still interlocked. As often as we had done that over the last few months, I was still amazed at how that simple physical connection could mean so much to me. We didn’t need to talk. Everything he needed to say was in the way he would rub the back of my hand with the pad of his thumb, or the gentle reassuring squeezes he would give at just the right time. The physical contact was enough for me. I missed it when he wasn’t around, I missed him. Was it possible to form an addiction to a person? He was becoming a link to something I never thought I would find.
We pulled into the parking lot of a relatively new strip mall and parked at one end. Adam jumped out of the truck and practically ran to the store. I had to laugh at his enthusiasm. He got to the door and pulled it open, bowing slightly and waving his arm. “After you.”
I dipped my head and nodded. “Why, thank you, good sir.”
The shop was sectioned off, with Halloween decorations at the front and costumes at the back, and separated by gender and age group. As we made our way back to Men’s, I asked Adam if he knew what Ryan and Lucas were dressing as.
“Batman and Robin, I think.”
“I thought Spidey was Lucas’s favorite.”
“He is.”
“Then why not go as that?”
Adam shrugged his shoulders. “Does Spidey have a sidekick?”
“No. Never has. He’s always been a loner.”
Something like understanding passed across Adam’s face before he said, “Maybe he should.”
I understood the unspoken meaning.
“Anyway,” he continued, “they wanted to do something together, like a father and son deal. And that seemed the most appropriate.”
I had to agree. I couldn’t think of a better set of costumes for the two of them together.
“And what about you? What are you doing?”
He gave me a sly grin. “Not tellin’.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Then how do I even know you’re dressing up? How do I know that you’re not just saying you are so I look dumb?”
I didn’t realize what I had said until the words had passed my lips. He stopped in the aisle so fast that I almost ran into him. He turned to me, raising a hand to my cheek, his brows knit together in a scowl. His palm felt warm against my skin, and I couldn’t help but lean into it. “I wouldn’t do that, baby. I promise. Trust me?”
And in that moment, I realized I did. Utterly and completely.
I nodded against his hand. He leaned in, gave me a quick peck on the lips, and I didn’t care who could see. “Good. Let’s shop.”
Happy Adam replaced Scowly Adam as he took me by the hand and led me further into the store.
“I think you should be Spidey,” he said, matter-of-fact.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am. Think about it. He’s your favorite, right?”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me do it
“And he wears a mask.”
I could see where this was leading before he even said it. But I didn’t interrupt.
“I know you’re nervous about next week, but I’m thinking that if you’re wearing a mask, it might help you.”
There was my Adam, always thinking about what was best for me, or at least what would make me feel more comfortable. And, honestly, it wasn’t a bad idea. The last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself and away from the kids. And, it would give me an excuse to do something I had always been curious about—cosplay.
As we made our way down the aisles, the military costumes caught my attention. I stopped and tugged on Adam’s hand. He turned and glanced at the rack. “I can’t dress like a Marine if the rest of you are dressing like superheroes. I’ll stick out.”
“I don’t think you should. I’ve just…I’ve never seen you in uniform. Not even pictures.”
A devilish grin spread across his lips. “No, you haven’t. I still have my uniform. If you want, I can put it on for you.”
“Now?”
“Pushy much? You have a thing for guys in uniform that I was unaware of?”
Well, I wasn’t aware of it myself until that very moment, so how could he. Or maybe it wasn’t guys in uniform, but him in uniform.
Adam gently dropped my hand and fingered his way through the costumes until he found what he was looking for. Pulling it from the rack, he held it up to me. “This?”
A black jacket and white pants hung from the hanger inside the clear garment bag. Gold buttons ran down the front, and red piping ran around the throat and on one side of the buttons. A separate bag hung from the hanger that held a white hat. By God, I couldn’t wait to see him in it. He gave me a smirk, like he knew what I was thinking, draped the garment bag over my arm, and continued down the aisle toward the superhero costumes with me trailing behind.
We stood in front of the fitting rooms, him holding my costume and me holding his. “Ready?”
Nerves shot through me. I didn’t consider how…revealing the costume he had selected for me would be until I remembered that it was primarily red and blue spandex. “Are you sure about this?”
“Absolutely,” he said, taking his costume from me. “You understand that I’m not dressing in this next week, though, right?”
“I know. I only think it’s fair. If I have to undress to my underwear in public, so should you.”
“Uniform kink and exhibitionist,” he teased. “I like it.”
I felt my face heat and I ducked my head. He gave a small chuckle and handed me my costume. “Go change.”
I gladly took it from him and walked into one of the two open fitting rooms, sliding the curtain closed to give me some privacy.
“You’re showing me what you look like,” he said as I unbuttoned my shirt.
“What if I look like a dork?”
“David, you won’t. Trust me. It’ll be fine.”
I sighed heavily, probably more dramatically than I needed to and dropped my pants to the floor.
Once on, I stood and looked at myself in the mirror that hung on the back wall of the fitting room. The costume wasn’t bad. It fit nicely in the chest, arms, and legs. But it seemed tight in the ass and instantly gave me a wedgie. Could I really go through with it? Could I really dress that way in public? I pulled the mask over my head and gave myself another once-over.
“Ready when you are,” Adam called.
I slid the curtain open and left the fitting room.
Adam stood in front of me, arms crossed behind him, wearing the costume he had selected, and I cursed the spandex I was wearing for being too revealing. His eyes darted down, and he whispered, “I assume this meets your approval.”
“Definitely.” I couldn’t tell if my voice sounded odd from my excitement of seeing him dressed like that, or from the mask.
“You look good too, babe.”
He lifted the mask to just under my nose, leaned in, and brushed my lips with his. “I may have just developed a thing for spandex.”
I snorted and playfully swatted his arm, glad that I was wearing the mask so he couldn’t see my embarrassment.
“Hold on a sec,” he said, and dashed to the front of the store. He returned a moment later with the sales girl in tow. “She’s going to take our picture.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, but I am, Spidey,” he said as he handed her his phone.
He came to stand beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I instantly felt his warm, protective heat, and instinctively leaned into it, laying my head on his shoulder like it belonged there.
Maybe it did.
The sales girl raised Adam’s phone. “Ready when you are.”
Adam gave a cheesy grin as the camera flashed.
He turned to me and said, “Now one without the mask.” Then he pulled the mask from my head. Our eyes connected and something warm and safe passed between us. He smiled, and it brought out a smile of my own.
He retook his position with his arm around my shoulder, and I placed my head back on his.
The sales girl took the second picture, and handed the phone back to Adam. She leaned in close and whispered, “You two are adorable together.”
I knew I blushed because I felt my cheeks heat, but Adam didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he leaned in and kissed the top of my head. “We are, aren’t we.”
Statement, not a question.
The sales girl giggled, and sauntered away.
Adam turned to me, that same grin plastered across his face, and said, “Go change. Let’s get some lunch.”
I turned to walk back into the changing room, and he swatted my ass. “Yeah, I could get used to you in that.”
I could hear the laughter in his voice, and, without turning around, I shot out, “Bastard.”
That made him laugh harder.
Adam escorted me to my door, grocery bag in each hand. I set my own bag down on the stoop and fished my keys from my pocket. Once unlocked, I threw the door open and stepped out of the way to allow him through. He had insisted on taking the heavier bags. He dropped the bags on the counter as I entered, and turned to me, taking my bags and setting them next to the ones he had just dropped.
He stepped toward me and draped his arms over my shoulders, gently pulling me towards him. “I had fun today.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I did too.”
And that was the truth. More fun than I had in a very long time. The more time I spent with Adam, the more fun I had with him, the more I wanted to be around him. An ease to our interactions had developed that I had never expected. I felt complete with him, protected and secure. I was learning to be myself, or at least a version of myself that I didn’t know existed and was happy with, and I had him to thank.
“So, I know you have a long day tomorrow, but can we see each other this weekend?”
Warmth spread through me at his words. “You want to?” I said, but couldn’t help the grin.
He returned the grin, face beaming brighter than a thousand suns. “Yeah, I do.”
“Then, yeah. This weekend.”
“I’ll text you.”
“It’s a plan.”
He leaned in and kissed my forehead. “You smell so good. Have I told you that today?”
That warmth intensified. “No, I don’t believe you have.”
“Well, you do.” Then he leaned in and kissed my lips. “And you taste good too.”
My breath hitched in my throat. I couldn’t help but hear some underlying meaning to his words, a depth that normal words did not carry. Then he pulled away and smiled. “Put your groceries away. I’m gonna get home and check on the boys.”
“I’ll text you,” he repeated, then he stepped around me and headed to the open door. Casting one last glance at me, he smiled and walked down the steps.
I stood in the middle of my studio for a moment, stupefied. How had I become so lucky? How had that man entered my life and completely changed it and me?
Pressing my fingertips to my lips, I stepped to the door and closed it.
The piece of paper that was taped to the inside of my door fluttered as the door closed. Curious, I pulled it off the door, some of the white paint sticking to the tape. Simple, black handprinted script read:
You can’t hide.
Your boyfriend can’t either.
I stood frozen, unable to move. Ice filled my veins.
The note hadn’t been there before I left that morning, I was sure of it. Someone had been in my home while I was gone. Someone had broken in while I was out with Adam, and taped that to the inside of my door so I would see it after the door was closed, when I felt the safest.
My world coalesced into that one piece of paper with those seven little words. Everything else seemed to fall away. My legs moved without conscious thought, pacing back and forth across the floor as I read and reread the note.
I checked the doorjamb for signs of damage, but there was none. How had they gotten in? Had I forgotten to lock the deadbolt? It had become so automatic to me that I couldn’t imagine not doing it. And yet, so many of my normal rituals and routines had disappeared, like carrying my messenger bag everywhere I went, since meeting Adam that I supposed it was possible.
Who had I angered to the point that they would leave that behind? A customer from the shop? Someone from the grocery store? Owen or Greg? The list couldn’t be very long. I didn’t know many people.
My heart beat faster against my chest the more the answer alluded me.
Then, with sudden clarity, one name popped into my head. Roger Barrows.
My father.
The realization hit me so hard that I had to fight the urge to throw up. I sank into the couch, trying to burrow between the cushions, to hide from the note and him.
It had to be him. He was the only one that would have a reason. He blamed me for everything that had gone wrong in his life, and I knew that he would stop at nothing to make me pay. But, if it was him, how the hell had he found me? I didn’t have a landline phone, sticking with a basic pay-as-you-go plan. I kept a post office box at the post office two blocks away, so no mail was delivered to my studio. I didn’t have what normal people called a social life, I never went to bars, and hadn’t gone to many restaurants until Adam came into my life. My social scene was non-existent, and my circle of friends was incredibly small.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I knew without looking that it was a text from Adam. I pulled the phone from my pocket and glanced at the screen.
-Had fun today. You’ll make a HOT Spider-Man! Hotter than Tobey.
He always did that, brought a smile to my face even when he wasn’t around. But that time something else was creeping in. A sense of dread and loss.
If my father was after me and, by extension, Adam and his family, I had to protect them. I couldn’t let them get hurt because of me. There had been this nagging doubt at the back of my mind since meeting Adam, this feeling of impending doom, like waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop.
It finally had.
I tried to look at all my options.
If I called Adam and told him, I was sure he would race back over and offer to help in any way he could. But that meant telling him my truth and having him walk away. Watching him leave would break my heart. Without my even realizing it, I had come to care for him, maybe more than I was allowing myself to admit. I had never allowed myself to feel anything for another person because all it did was bring me pain. I had built up walls and defenses, and kept my distance from everyone. Self-preservation. And the only way I could do that was by not letting anyone in.
Yet, somehow, without my even understanding it, Adam got in. He was kind and generous. He was patient with me when he never should have had to be, and not for the first time, I found myself questioning why.
Would he really walk away if I told him everything? More than likely. But, the smallest spark of hope was there, that he would be able to see past all of that, that he wouldn’t hold what I did against me.
But if he didn’t walk away, I would be putting him directly in the line of fire. If my father was the one behind this, he would do anything he could to hurt me. Adam was my one weakness. If Adam, or Ryan or Lucas for that matter, were hurt, I would never be able to live with myself. They had accepted me in as family when they didn’t have to, without knowing anything about me. How could I allow them to be hurt when I knew I had the power to keep it from happening?
My phone buzzed again, and I looked at the screen.
-Have a good night and day tomorrow. Can’t wait until this weekend.
I read the words over and over because I knew the weekend he was thinking about would never happen. I had made my decision without realizing it.
I would have to cut him out of my life.
Completely.
No visits. No phone calls. No texts.
Total and utter removal.
Sadness washed over me at the thought of losing him. But it was better that way, or at least I was trying to convince myself of that. I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk him. Seeing him get hurt because of me would kill me. I couldn’t let that happen. He had too much to offer, his soul was too good. I wouldn’t be responsible for that being scarred.
I stood and crossed the studio to the bedside table and plugged in my cell, his messages going unanswered. It was killing me not to respond, but I couldn’t.
I lay on top of the bed and curled up into a ball. My body ached and nothing I could do would make that go away. The ache became a living, breathing thing, and I allowed it to take over, wash over me. I deserved this, to have nothing. Tears stung my eyes, and I allowed them to come, crying myself into an exhausted sleep.