Date: Sat, 27 Jun 2009 13:08:53 -0300
From: Duncan Ryder <duncanryder@hotmail.com>
Subject: Everybody's Wounded Part 2: How the Light Gets In  Chapter 9

Everybody's Wounded: Part 2
How the Light Gets In


Chapter 9


Matt was just leaving the condo when his cell rang.  Brandon.

"Hey," he said.  "I'm just on my way."

"Can you give us another half hour?" Bran asked.  "Laura's practice is
running a little late.  There's a Russian coach here who's been working
with her on a new dismount.  They're just about finished, but she still
needs to shower."

"Sure.  Scott said not to expect them until six.  That still gives us lots
of time to pick up what we need for dinner.  Um..."

"What?"

"Laura's still going to help with that, right?"

Bran laughed.  "Oh, yeah.  And you're going to need it.  Whatever made you
offer to make dinner for six people?  You can hardly pop pop tarts!"

It had been Scott's idea that they all have dinner together at the condo,
though he'd been thinking pizza and beer for four of them -- Scott, Josh,
Luc and Matt.  It was Matt who wanted to invite Bran and Laura.  He had no
doubt that Scott had understood why -- Matt needed Bran there for moral
support, and Laura because Bran would want her there, and because she was
friends with Luc.  At least Scott had had the grace to say it was a good
idea.

As for his idiotic offer to make dinner -- Matt wasn't really sure where
that had come from.  He could hardly admit to Brandon that he wanted to
impress Joshua -- or rather that he hadn't wanted to seem incompetent to
him in any way.  He could still do pizza and beer, of course.  But that
just didn't seem right.  He couldn't picture Joshua drinking beer.  He'd
met Josh over wine --

No!  He was not going there.

"I guess it's just time for me to get inspired," he said to his brother.
Bran snorted.  "Well, with a little help from my friends, of course."

"With a lotta help from your friends, you mean."

And with his brother's laughter in his ears, Matt shoved his cell back into
his pocket and took a final walk around the condo.

He liked it here, he admitted to himself.  He liked the warm, ordinary
comfort of the place, the friendly clutter of family stuff, the complete
lack of pretension.  It made him think of the cheery warmth of his parents'
house when he was a child -- without the constant reminders of how his own
bad behavior had threatened it all, hurt them all.  He hadn't thought he
would ever find himself in such a place again -- certainly he knew that he
didn't deserve to be -- but having found it, he wanted it, even if it was
only for a few months of calm.

Even knowing that Joshua was just a few floors up, he found himself more
relaxed in the Bedard condo than he'd been in a long, long time.  He wanted
to make it work with Luc -- even if it meant taking the stairs to avoid the
possibility of being stuck in the elevator with Joshua.

He made his way to the window, drinking in the stretch of deserted snowy
beach and then the cold Atlantic, silvered by the pale afternoon light.  As
he watched, he found himself thinking about Joshua and Scott, trying to
picture them to together, walking this beach perhaps.

Somehow he just couldn't do it, couldn't imagine the Joshua he remembered
with his brother's friend.  They just seemed so... unlikely somehow.

It wasn't that Scott wasn't a good guy -- he seemed genuinely nice,
serious, soft spoken, sensitive even.  But he was what -- nineteen? Twenty
at most?  How could he possibly interest Joshua for any length of time?
And even more -- how could he possibly understand what Joshua had been
through?

For God's sake, you only had to look at the boy.  He was such a
total... jock.  Hot, hot body, for sure.  He thought of Scott the day he'd
watched him on the phone, the private smiles, the sudden flush.  It wasn't
hard to believe that when Scott fucked you, you were well and truly fucked.

But... surely Joshua wanted more than that?

Surely it couldn't really be serious?

***

It was a cramped and quiet trip from the airport to the condo, Luc in the
back seat of Josh's small car, his long legs jammed in behind the passenger
seat.  Scott had offered to sit in the back, but that made no sense all.
Josh just shook his head.

"You won't even fit back here if you tried," said Luc, and the thought of
Scott's heavy- boned frame folded into the back of Josh's sporty two-door
Golf actually made him laugh.

As they made their way out of the airport parking lot, the two men in the
front seat did their best to keep a conversation going.  After school news
and a few desultory comments about music, Scott broached his new living
arrangements.

"Matt moved in a couple of days ago," he said, turning sideways in his
seat.  "He seems to really like it.  And I know he's grateful.  The noise
on his floor was driving him crazy."

Luc didn't feel much curiosity about his new roommate, but he felt obliged
to make the effort.  "So, I'll meet Matthew right away?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Scott.  "He'll be waiting for us at the condo.  Actually, he
offered to make dinner tonight for all of us.  Bran and Laura will be
there, too.  I hope that's ok."

Damn, thought Luc.  Not only a new roommate but company.  He'd been hoping
for some quite time, alone with Scott.  But alone with Scott seemed to
include Josh, so perhaps company was best.

"Fine," he said.

"I think you'll like him," Scott offered, when Luc said nothing more.

Luc sighed softly.  Then, more to be polite than because he had any
interest in Matt, "Tell me about him."

"Well, I don't know him all that well," Scott admitted.  "But I've spent a
fair amount of time with him over the last week.  Seems like a good guy,
and he's Bran's brother, so I'm sure he is."

"He's 23," said Josh, who hadn't said much since they left the airport.
Luc startled at the sound of the soft tenor voice.  "Economics major."

"He's got a year to finish," Scott added.  "Maybe a few credits more.  He
took a couple of years off."

"Why?" asked Luc.  He remembered vaguely that Scott had said something
about Matt having had problems.  He might as well know about them now.

But to his surprise, Scott avoided the question.

"I don't know, really.  I think he was kind of... burned out.  Bran hasn't
told me much about it, and Matt hasn't said anything to me at all.  All I
know is that he went out west.  Banff, and then Whistler.  He's a skier --
Bran said he was a pretty good racer in high school -- and he taught skiing
out there, and waited tables.  You know, the basic ski bum stuff."

Luc didn't know.  The son of a banker and a university academic, the idea
of doing "ski bum stuff" for an extended period of time was completely
foreign to him.  He decided to push a little harder.

"You said something about his having had a hard time, his own problems..."

Scott was silent a moment.  Then he said, "Maybe he'll tell you about it."

Luc wasn't sure how to read that and, to his own surprise as much as anyone
else's, he turned to Josh.  He had no idea why, really.  Just to have
something to say to him, to bring him into the conversation perhaps.  He
didn't know Josh very well, had hardly talked to him in fact, not since
Josh had helped him move into the condo last fall.

And kissed him, a friendly enough kiss that Luc himself had turned into --

Oh God, he didn't want to remember that.

What he did need to remember was that he owed his life to this man who was
silently driving him home from the airport.  He owed his life to both of
them.  It was a powerful thought.

So he asked Josh, "What's your impression of him?"

At first, Josh didn't answer, and Luc wondered if he'd heard him.  From
where he was sitting directly behind the driver's seat, all he could see of
Josh were his eyes in the rearview mirror, and from time to time, his right
hand as it rested on the stick shift.  He could see Scott, though, and when
he asked what he thought was an innocent question, he saw the worried look
Scott gave Josh.

"I knew him before he left," Josh said slowly.  "I remember he
was... friendly.  Charming.  Kind, I think.  And I'm told he was very
smart, which rather surprised people because he had a bit of a party boy
reputation.  I haven't seen him since he came back."

As Josh was speaking, Luc was watching his eyes in the rearview mirror. To
that point, they had remained firmly fixed on the road. Now, Luc watched as
he shot a quick, sideways glance at Scott.  Luc winced as he saw Scott
reach over and rub the back of Josh's hand, where it rested on the stick
shift.  Josh's hand was rather small, with fine- boned, slender fingers.
Scott's massive hand seemed to swallow it.

"I asked around the department a bit," Josh continued finally.  "There are
people who remember him, which speaks to his intelligence, really.  My
thesis supervisor said the department was sad and sorry, and very surprised
when he dropped out.  They'd always expected him to go on to grad school or
maybe into law, and when he announced he was leaving, there was a bit of an
effort to get him to stay.  They're glad to have him back."

"You didn't tell me that," said Scott.

Again Luc saw Josh's eyes slide swiftly from the road to Scott, and back
again.  "I just found out on Friday," he said softly.  "And I've had a few
other things on my mind since then."

Luc closed his eyes, tried to pretend that he had not seen that swift,
comforting touch.  Scott is with Joshua, he told himself firmly.  But with
his eyes closed, he was suddenly assailed with other images of them
together.

That morning in the elevator, with a physical space between them that meant
nothing...

Standing together beside Luc's hospital bed, Josh's hand resting on Scott's
shoulder...

It hadn't been real to him, not then.

But now, now, in the back of the small car, with Scott's fingers grazing
the back of Josh's hand, it was very, very real.  Even with his eyes
closed, he could see the caress, almost feel it against his own skin.  .
***

"Oh, for God sake!" said Laura in frustration.  "It's just not that hard."

She grabbed the shopping cart from Bran and set off down the aisle at
breakneck speed.  Matt and Bran grinned at each other and followed.  She
led them to the frozen food section.

"Lasagna," she said, pointing at a large one.  "You put it in the oven
according to instructions.  You can follow instructions, right?  Then you
make a salad.  And if salad's beyond your feeble skills, you can even buy
the lettuce in bags.  And the salad dressing in bottles.  Then you cut up
some baguettes.  Dinner."

"I think I can do that!" said Matt, trying to keep his face serious as he
shot a sidelong glance at his brother...

"I think a potato could do that," said Laura pointing into the freezer.
"Get one of those."

"One!" said Bran in dismay.  "One won't be enough!"

Laura studied the package.  "Sure it is," she said.  "It's two and half
kilos.  It says eight people.  There are only going to be six of us."

"Six.  Do I have to point out that five of us are guys, and only one of us
is a teeny tiny munchkin gymnast?"

Laura tried to restrain it, but a giggle burst out.  "All right, then.  Get
two."

Matt took two from the freezer and put them into the grocery cart.  He was
only half paying attention as the other two bickered playfully.  All he
could think of was that there would be six of them at dinner, and there was
no more avoiding it.  One of the six would be Joshua.

Joshua whose tears he had tasted.

Joshua who had permitted a blow job, but not a kiss.

Joshua whose last look at him had held such disgust.

He closed his eyes for a second, tried to picture the new Joshua.  The
Joshua,with short, tousled hair and sparkling eyes.  The Joshua who laughed
in photographs with his head tossed back against the pure northern blue of
a winter sky.

Scott's Joshua.

But somehow the image refused to come.

"Matt.  Matt?  Anyone home?"

He shook his head, realizing that Laura was waving a hand in front of his
face.

 "Sorry."  He forced a laugh.  "What did you say?"

Laura shook her head and groaned.  "I said, whatever made you offer to
cook?  I thought it was because all you gay guys were born with the cooking
and entertaining gene, but apparently that's not it."

Bran burst out laughing.  "Matt?  Cooking and entertaining gene?  The only
food related gene Matt was born with was the one that demands lots."

Matt, wanting a bit of the playfulness that came so naturally to his
brother, shoved him with his elbow.  Hard.  "I think you've got us
confused, little brother," he said.  "You're the one who got exclusive
rights to the quantity gene.  And the sweet tooth."  He winked at Laura.
"There is a reason that the family nickname for him is--"

"Don't you dare!" said Bran.

"What?  What?" Laura demanded.

"Cookie Monster" said Matt, laughing over Brandon's groan.

 "No family secrets," said Bran, in mock disgust.  "You promised."

"Never did," said Matt indignantly.

But Laura had started to giggle, and then Bran, too, was smiling.

"Cookie Monster?" she asked Matt, poking at Brandon's chest with a
forefinger.

He nodded, and to Matt's amusement, Brandon actually blushed.

 "Oh, that is just too good," Laura said.  "I love it."

She turned from Matt to Bran, and pressed gently against him with her
shoulder, beaming and laughing up into his face.  "You are soooo a Cookie
Monster," she said.

And as the two of them stood there, laughing and happy and suddenly totally
oblivious to the frozen food section of the grocery store, Matt knew
that... there was he was again.

The outsider.

Always the outsider.

Watching.

Forgotten.

He found himself strangely torn between delight for what his brother seemed
to be finding with this girl, and... something that felt uncomfortably like
jealously.

Not over Laura, not that (though god knows he'd often thought life would be
so much easier if he could just find a way to like a girl).  It was just
that... just that... over the last week, he's spent a lot of time watching
what was between his brother and this little blonde girl.  He'd paid
attention.

It wasn't just the couple vibes between them that Matt felt kick at him.
He was fine with couples vibes.  He'd known that himself, kind of, at least
for an evening, a weekend.  And he was even fine with the stray threads of
sexual tension which he couldn't help but notice from time to time,
especially from Brandon.  God knows, if there was one thing Matt knew
about, it was sexual tension.

But he had picked up a lot more than that between Bran and Laura: more than
that fresh couples stuff, more than sexual tension.  He knew they had
problems, knew it wasn't all easy sailing between them.  But he also had
this very strong feeling that somehow they would find a way to make it all
work.

He'd never felt that.  He knew he never would, never could.

There was just something... different between his brother and this girl.
Something he he knew in his heart that there could be between men.
A... tenderness, a concern, a mix of humour and playfulness and... and real
caring...

Feeling invisible, he watched them watch each other and felt a sadness so
intense it verged on physical pain.  He'd had lots of guys look at him in
lots of ways.  Hot.  Hungry.  Desperate.  Even scared.  But no guy had ever
looked at him the way Bran and Laura were looking at each other, with
humour and hope and caring shining out from beneath the laughter that had
them both silly and shaking.

Jesus God he wanted someone to look at him like that.  He knew no one ever
would.  He could never deserve that, and besides, guys didn't do that.  It
couldn't be part of his world.

So why did he have to be like this?  Why did he have to want?

***

One of the great things about the Bedard place was that it was full of the
things that families did together.  Matt knew from Scott that this was
because it was not just the place where the Bedard boys lived while they
went to university; it was also the family's summer place, and was
furnished accordingly.  The furniture tended to overstuffed and
comfortable, and the wall of bookshelves in the living room was stacked
with books and music and dvds and old VHS tapes and even older video games,
and best of all a treasure trove of board games.

The frozen lasagnas were in the oven and Matt, Bran and Laura deeply into a
highly competitive game of scrabble when they heard the key in the lock.

Laura was on her feet instantly.

"They're here!" she said, making her way across the large living room to
the entranceway.

Bran rose more slowly.  Matt stared at the scrabble board, his hands fisted
on the table, and couldn't seem to move at all.

He felt Bran's hand on his shoulder.

"Come on," said Bran softly.  "It's time to meet your new roommate."

Matt nodded and forced a smile.  If only that was all it was.

He followed Bran slowly across the room, watching the entrance with fast
glances.  First in was a tall, thin boy with an unruly mop of too long
black hair.  Luc.  His dark blue wool jacket was buttoned shut, and the
left sleeve was empty; he'd a canvas computer bag slung over his right
shoulder.  He came a few steps into the condo and then stopped, his eyes
darting around the room as if he were trying to take it in all at once.

Scott followed, the sheer size of him taking on even more power when
contrasted with the slender boy in black.  He was dragging a huge black
suitcase, which he maneuvered around Luc and up against the wall.

Matt shot a quick anxious glance at the door, bracing himself for the third
arrival.  But to his surprise, Scott let the door close behind him.

"Hey guys!" he said cheerfully.  "Smells good in here."

"Yeah, well, it's got another half hour, so don't get any ideas," said
Laura, who had reached the front door.

"Hey, Munchkin!"  Scott scooped her up in a hug and she planted a kiss on
his cheek.

"Hey Luc," she said softly, when Scott put her down again.

Matt saw the black-haired boy smile, quick and fleeting.  He was gorgeous
when he smiled, though somehow Matt had a feeling that didn't happen often.

Bran greeted them both, then grabbed the suitcase.  "You want me to take
this to your room?" he asked Luc.  "Scott, you can do the introductions."

Though he was trying hard to be polite and focus on the new arrivals, Matt
was still looking uncertainly at the closed door.

"Where's Josh?" he asked finally.

"He just took our bags upstairs," said Scott.  "He'll be down in a few
minutes.  With wine."

With wine.

Fuck.

How was he supposed to sit across a table from Joshua drinking wine?

Scott had been propelling the thin boy gently into the room with one hand
on his shoulder.  "This is Luc" he said.  "Luc, this is Matt."

Matt offered his hand, and for a second found himself looking into wide
blue eyes so pale they were almost silver.  He pulled himself together and
smiled.

Luc's fingers were long and slender and cold to the touch.  "Thank you for
this," he said, his voice quiet and surprisingly deep.  "I am very
grateful."

Matt smiled.  "Hey, you're the one who's doing me the favour."

***

He was not delaying the inevitable, Josh told himself ten minutes later, as
he stood outside the Bedard place, a wine bottle in each hand.  He was just
preparing.  He had just taken the bags upstairs.  Selected the wine.
Turned up the heat so the rooms would be warm when he and Scott finally
returned home.

He could handle seeing Matt again.  He could handle the memories.  Not of
pleasure -- for God knew that had been fleeting and unsatisfactory and
meaningless.  No, he could handle the memories of pain.  Of his own
desperation.

It was funny, really, that of all the guys he had had, all the guys who had
had him, in that sad, painful time, that Matt had to be the one who to turn
up again.  Because Matt was the only one he remembered at all.  The others
had become shadows, clouds of touch, a blur of fingers, mouths, skin.  Matt
alone had a face, a voice, a memory.

And not a good memory -- though that was hardly Matt's fault.

Josh hadn't been lying was he told Luc that Matt had struck him as being
fundamentally kind.  That, oddly enough, was his strongest memory of their
strange, sad encounters.  That Matt had actually somehow been trying to be
kind.  Even in that wounded haze, Josh had recognized, somehow, that Matt
had actually wanted to reach out to him, to touch him in a way that did not
involve the shadows, the blur of fingers, mouths, skin.

But Josh had been beyond touch.

So -- no.  He was not delaying the inevitable.  He was preparing.  And he
was ready.

It was Scott who answered his knock, his eyes smoke grey and serious as he
took the bottles from Josh's hands and set them down on the table inside
the front door.  He looked worried.

"You ok?" he asked softly.  "I was beginning to wonder if I was going to
have to go up there after you."

Josh looked up into the anxious grey eyes.

"I'm still just fine," he murmured, and found himself smiling slowly.

To his delight, Scott's mouth softened in recognition.  Then, to his
surprise, Scott bent, and grazed his mouth quickly with his own.

"Good," he said, as their eyes met and held again.

The slow, slow smile they exchanged recognized that it was the first time
they had touched at all in the presence of others.

 ***

Matt noticed.

He noticed Scott's constant glances at the door.

He noticed his immediate response to the knock.

He noticed the whispered words, the touching of lips.

And he noticed the sweet, sweet, slow motion smiles.

Matt noticed it all.

He sat almost spellbound as Joshua made his way into the room, Scott's hand
resting lightly in the small of his back.  It was all Matt could do to
force himself to his feet.

Josh took a step towards him, and Matt found himself looking once again
into those green, green eyes.  He was afraid of drowning in them.

Swim, you idiot, he told himself.  Swim..

Somehow, he managed to speak.

"Hey Joshua," he said.  His voice even sounded human.

Somehow, he expected Joshua to disapprove, expected his mouth to curve into
the expression of disgust he remembered so clearly.  It wasn't like that at
all.  Joshua was simply studying him, calmly, almost sadly.

Still caught in that green gaze, Matt felt --.

Matt didn't know what he felt.

Open.

Just -- open.

Like there was a way into himself he didn't know about, but that Joshua did
and had found at a glance.

Then Joshua took his proffered hand, and Matt felt heat of his touch.

Still their eyes held.  Just held.

Then Joshua said, "This is stupid," and to Matt's surprise, gave a little
tug.  He pulled Matt close in a quick hug, then released him almost
immediately.

"Hi Matt," he said.  "It's good to see you.  It's been a long time."

Matt couldn't speak.

"How've you been?" Josh continued, and he actually sounded interested.

"Good," Matt managed finally.  "I've been good."

Josh continued to study him.  "I'm glad," he said finally, and his mouth
softened into a slight smile.  "These are better days."

Better days?

Matt had no idea what that meant.

All he knew was that suddenly, after the few fragile seconds of that hug
(so sweet, so painful), he was hard, and hurting, and wanting, and he
didn't know if he was dying or coming back to life.



I know I've been posting more slowly lately...but I am continuing to work
on the story.  Do take the time to let me know what you think.  And if
you'd like to be on the update list, just drop me a note at
duncanryder@hotmail.com.