Reflections 



I can’t believe I’m sitting in this fucking waiting room again. Wasn’t I here long enough before? Didn’t I pay all the penance that could possibly have been owing to the omnificent powers that be? I fucking sat here for days when he was here before. 


I know the rest of the gang are down the hall waiting. They don’t know about this little private spot of hell. I remember before how when I found it tucked away around the corner how pleased I was to finally escape all the eyes, the eyes watching and staring and prying into how I was supposed to feel. Now one really caring that it was if it was me lying on the gurney, in the hospital bed, surrounded by tubes and machines. They didn’t know that I felt every pin prick, every touch as they worked on him. He’s part of me, I love him more than life itself. I knew it then and I know it now. 


I see my reflection in the window, the dark night sky turning the window into a mirror. I can look into it and deep in the corner I can see reflected back at me the first time I ever saw him. His innocence, his fear, his bravery, he was a boy and he was a young man and he wanted me, gawd how he wanted me. And how I wanted him, because that’s what it was that night. It was feelings and needs that had to be filled. He wanted a man, a hero to fall in love with, a fairy tale prince to whisk him away, take his virginity, love him forever while they lived happily ever after. 


And what did I want when I looked at his blonde hair shimmering under the harsh light from the street lamp? Did I see my destiny in the blue eyes looking up at me with both fear and trust reflecting in them? Did I see the purity in his soul and hope it would turn mine at least a lighter shade of grey? 


Here I am once again in this god damned sterile room. Waiting. For what? Life? Death? Who the fuck knows. Christ I wish Justin was with me now, or I was with him. 


Did some sadistic bastard design these little oasis from hell so that family and friends can sit and reflect on bygone days or what life will be like when the waiting is over? I can see Vic in the reflection now, looking out at me like he did when I was fourteen. When he opened the door that night. I wasn’t expecting some man to be there. I thought Mikey would answer the door or maybe Deb. I was embarrassed that this tall handsome man would see me, see what a mess I was, tear stained face, blood on my shirt from my nose. I hated that someone else would know what a fuck up of a father I had. Instead he held the door open wider and smiled and said “You must be Brian. Sucks that your dad is such a bastard, come on in and I’ll help you get presentable before Deb and Mike see you.” He helped to clean me up, gave me some aspirin and a clean tee shirt and a blanket for the couch. But not before he gave me a key to the front door. The last thing I remember before I fell into a dreamless sleep that night was him telling me. “No matter what, you need a place to stay, you come here. Use my room; I only visit once in awhile. Just leave a note on the kitchen table before you go to bed to let Deb know that you’re there.” 


I wonder if he knew how many times I had to use his room. How much of a sanctuary it was and how much it meant for me to know that this sophisticated New York uncle of Mikey’s cared about me. 

Vic’s been a good friend over the years. I guess a few hours in a waiting room is a small price to pay to someone like him. 


He was the only one who knew I fell in love with Justin right from the start. He said he could see it in my eyes. But I kind of think I showed it in my touch. I could never keep my hands off the kid. It didn’t have to be much; I didn’t even care if we fucked. I just wanted to touch him. To mark him to brand him with my finger tips, with my lips. 


I can’t believe I’m getting hard sitting here like this in purgatory thinking with my dick. I am well and truly depraved. Justin always knew that and he loved me anyway. Go figure. 


I see his reflection in the window, the look of horror he had on his face when the loft was broken into. When he realized how bad it was. I still wake up nights seeing his blue eyes swimming with unshed tears as he stood there and took my wrath like a man. I couldn’t stop myself, I was almost insane with the thought that what if Justin had been there. What if the asshole that broke in had found him and hurt him. Instead of taking him into my arms and holding him I had to revert to my father. What a fuck up I was then. I hope I’ve learned. When Daphne told me he’d run off to New York I almost puked. She might as well have hit me in the stomach with a hammer. I was terrified that he would be harmed. When she told me he had my credit card I almost laughed and cried at the same time. The little shit knew I go after him and he was dropping bread crumbs like a fairy tale once again for his prince to find him. And like the good little prince I was I dutifully got on my trusty stead, following the expensive bread crumbs and brought him back. But not of course before the most incredible sex we’d ever had. I know that when we fucked I’d been saying the ‘I love you’ mantra in my head a thousand times. Did he hear me? I’ll never know for sure. 


Christ, why can’t I be in there with him? The piss yellow paint on these walls is driving my insane. Who the fuck decorated this place? I need a cigarette. I need a bottle of Beam. I don’t need anything except him. I need him here and now in my arms. 


I don’t need the reflection in the window to see him the night of the prom. The night I finally acknowledged to myself that I loved him. I can remember every second of that night, the good and the bad and replay it over and over a thousand times. Funny how the good parts always speed by so fast and the bad ones, the ones covered in blood and pain crawl by each second and hour each hour a year. 


The rest of them around the corner and down the hall, are they wondering where I am. They probably all think what a heartless bastard I am. Can’t even sit with them to wait the outcome of another fucking hospital crises. 


I used to care what they thought. But not anymore, I have him, my golden boy, my sunshine. The only one I have to perform for, to live for, is him. The awards I win, the bonuses, I take satisfaction knowing that when I tell him his blue eyes sparkle with pride at what I’ve accomplished. That look, the smile and the kiss that follows is more than enough reward for me. Now I understand how a dog feels. I wag my tail when he pats me on the head. Now I know I’m going crazy with an analogy like that one. I wonder if I’ll get a chance to tell him. If he’ll say my name in that special way he has when he’s laughing at me, with me. 


I look at my watch, gawd, three hours; I’ve been sitting here three hours. Why can’t I be there? I hate fucking hospitals and their rules and regulations. They should have little quarter hour announcements. Little new bulletins so the rest of us can breath without pain. 


I look over at the door, it’s opening slowly and a head pokes in. “Dad, why is it taking so long?” Gus my very own child, he’s as bad as Justin, they know me so well, other than Justin, Gus would be the only one of the group who would be able to find me. 


“Hey Sunny Boy” I say. I can’t believe my emotions are running away like this in front of my kid. “I don’t know why it’s taking so long.” He walks over to sit on the chair beside me. He’s tall, he’ll be as tall as me some day, maybe taller. But now at ten he’s pretty tall for his age. “Life’s funny that way. Good things take a long time to happen.” 


“Will Pops be OK? I mean, he’s been in there a long time. How come they won’t let you in? Don’t they know that you are, like his life line?” 


“I think it’s hard for straight people to understand about feelings between two guys.” 


“I understand” 


“You’re our kid.” He looked out into the darkness, seeing the reflection of Justin standing in the hospital room with him looking at his son for the first time. “You know, he saw you for the first time the same time I did. I’ll never forget that night.” He picked up his son’s hand, over sized, like the paws of a puppy you know will be a big dog some day. “You took this hand and touched my face. But what you really did was grab my heart” he looked at his son with love. 


Gus looked embarrassed but leaned into his father, letting his strong arm pull him into an embrace. “Did Pops love me then too?” he asked. 


“I know he did” 


“Even if I wasn’t really his kid?” 


“Didn’t matter, you were part of me and he loved me” he gave Gus a squeeze. “You were kind of like the bonus gift. Two for the price of one.” 


“Will it be the same for you and me?” he looked up at his Dad, his hazel eyes filled with concern and worry. “I mean, when --- his voice drifted off when the door opened 


Justin, dressed in green hospital scrubs, a small bundle in his arms walked over and knelt on the floor in front of his two favorite men. 


“I knew I’d find you here” he said, his tear filled blue eyes looking into hazel ones reflecting back the love he felt. He handed the small bundle to Brian. 


Brian gently uncovered the small face. Eyes as blue as sapphires stared up at him, a small hand reached up and touched his lips, a smile that lit up the room turning the walls into a sun filled haven. The little head turned to Gus and he was treated to a smile, her fuzzy halo of blonde down on her head shimmering. Gus looked at Brian “You were right Dad, she grabbed our hearts.” Two pairs of hazel tear filled eyes looked down with love on Victoria Brianne Kinney Taylor.