City of Angels Ch. 03

"Yeah, what about him?"

"He's here. He's in LA—well, home. He's moved back here, right down the street."

"Did you go see him?" Craig asked.

"Fuck no! I was too pissed. I'm still pissed. He blew me off. Totally blew me off. Like I'm going to go see him. No."

"Sounds like you really have some history with this guy."

"I didn't have a ton of friends. Just him, really. I wasn't like you—Mr. Popular. And I still don't. I tend to have only one or two really close friends, that's it."

"What about Andy? He seems cool."

"Yeah, he is. You don't mind?"

"What?"

"Me being friends with him . . . I think he sort of likes me, maybe."

"Of course not. It's fine. I have lots of gay friends, you know that."

This was something Evan had noticed about Craig—he did not have a jealous bone in his body. In some ways, he had absolutely no self-confidence, but in this respect he did.

"You do. I like that about you."

"So how's your dad?"

Evan filled him in, telling him about the surgery coming up, and how he'd have to spend more time down there with him.

"You know it was really strange being there this time. I had a 'moment' with my father."

"What happened?"

"We were sitting alone, in the living room. It was so quiet. Just waiting for my mother to get back. And it got so awkward. I just wanted to get the hell out of there."

"Why?"

Even telling the story Evan felt himself getting anxious again. He could feel the tenseness of that moment and the fear that gripped his body.

"Well it was so quiet. . . I wanted . . . I guess, to talk to him. You know. Like really talk. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for being such a dick to him all those years. And . . . I don't know . . . I wanted to tell him that I . . ." His words trailed off. He was unable to say it even here, with Craig.

"That you loved him?"

"Yes," Evan exhaled with a huge sigh of relief. "Yes. I did. But I couldn't. I absolutely could not do it. And there's no reason. It's all me. It's not like he'd throw a fit or anything. I can't describe it! I felt absolutely paralyzed, like I had a truck parked on my chest. I was terrified."

"I get it. You don't have to explain."

"Really?"

"Better than you know."

"How's that?"

"That fear you describe? That anxiety? I feel that every single second I'm near my dad. But one time, when I was like 12, maybe 13, I actually did try to talk to him."

"What happened?"

Craig sighed, and Evan felt him tense up.

"It was . . . I mean, to understand you have to know about my mother."

"Oh? You barely talk about her."

"No. My mother is not 'well,' shall we say. She's a drunk. She's out of it."

"Was she always like that?"

"She was on her way. The alcoholism has gotten worse and worse, but it was always there. The thing is, my mom frightened me. When I was little."

"Frightened you? Why?"

"She just did. First of all she didn't live with us. She lived way out in Topanga Canyon. It was so dark there. I hated going. She wasn't mean or anything like that, just really weird and crazy and fake. I swear to god it was like visiting a lunatic asylum. She was drunk, some of the time, or on drugs, or incoherent. Half the time she was out of it, just zoning out on the couch while me and my sister sat there, and then the other half of the time she was crazy, manic. She'd kiss us and hug us in this over-the-top way. I hated it. I never knew who the fuck I was going to meet."

"She sounds manic-depressive."

"In retrospect, yes. That's exactly right. But I didn't know it then. All I knew is that she scared me and I didn't understand it."

Evan had never heard Craig talk this much about his family.

"So that's the big secret. It's not much. Like I said, she didn't, you know, beat the crap out of us or anything, she was just . . . crazy. I think she was made crazy by wanting to be a movie star. She was obsessed with it. Spent all this time talking about her 'Hollywood' days. Jesus. I can remember sitting there smelling her breath—the alcohol—being so small, just a little kid, all I wanted to do was play—and she'd sit me and my sister down and go on these long weird rambles about 'acting' and all these men she was with and she'd get drunker and drunker. I hated it."

"And you know—that's when I got those nightmares. It always happened after we'd go see her."

"Sounds horrible."

"It wasn't that bad. It could have been worse."

"Well not to a little kid."

"So anyway, there was that to deal with. And then we'd go 'home.' Fucking shitshow that was. My dad was hardly there. We had a nanny for a little while, then it was just maids. But sometimes, they'd forget to go to the store, or my dad would forget to leave money or whatever the fuck happened, and there'd be no food in the house. There'd be like, a box of cereal. And me and my sister would sit there in this huge mansion eating fucking dry cereal because someone forgot to get the milk."

"Hey," Evan whispered. Craig was getting very agitated.

"What? I feel like I'm 'whining.' You know—feeling sorry for myself. It wasn't that bad. And we weren't poor. Not by any means."

"Stop apologizing. Just tell me. I want to hear it."

"Well—that's it. That's the gist of it. A crazy mother who scared me to death, and—"

"What?"

"Just . . . being afraid. All the time. And having no one to count on, no one to talk to. I had to be the brother to my sister. I couldn't turn to her. So now, when I get those panic attacks, I'm right back there. That's what it was like. Like I'm falling into a huge black hole."

"So what about your dad?"

"Well, it was like that until I was about 12 or 13, like I said. That's when things really changed for me."

"How's that?"

"Well until then I would say that I loved my dad. Like, insanely. I clung to him—in my mind at least. My mother was crazy, but he wasn't—at least not to me. I lived for his attention, as rare as it was. I thought . . . I thought . . . he was perfect. Like, that's why he wasn't ever around. Because there was this perfect life, this wonderful life, that only he knew about. I believed that. Because if I didn't think that, then there was only my mother. Which was too fucking scary to deal with. So I guess I sort of blew my dad up in my mind, I don't know. I just know I loved him and I wanted to be part of his life."

"So what happened?"

"One night, I had a nightmare. Of course, I'd just come back from seeing my mother. I woke up absolutely petrified. And my sister wasn't there, she was staying over at a friend's. And I knew my dad was home. So I got up. This just reminds me of you . . . what you said . . . being so scared. Terrified to talk to him. But I had to. I mean I just had to. I was having a really bad panic attack. So I knew he was in his study, I could see the light on, and I went down there."

"I had never ever done this before. You know—told him I needed him. I was just as scared as you. I was 12."

"So I knocked on the door. I was crying, I think, a little. He looked up. He was behind his desk. So handsome. My father is a beautiful man. Blond, like me. I look just like him. He stared at me, coldly. He said, 'What is it?'"

"I was so fucking scared—just scared, and scared of him, too—and I just stood there, beginning to cry, sort of stuttering."

"What'd he do?"

"He said, 'What's the matter?'"

"I said, 'I'm scared.'"

"Craig. You're not a little boy. What is it?'"

"I lied. Well, it was kind of true. I said, 'I don't want to see mom anymore.' He looked at me sharply, for a second. I think for once the stupid fuck could tell I was distressed. He actually paid a little bit of attention. Probably because somewhere he felt the capability for guilt, who knows. He knew what she was like, he knew it! And he kept sending us there. So he sort of blinked at me and looked down back at his work and said, 'Fine. You don't have to.'"

"And you know what? In my stupid fucking little peabrained mind, I thought that meant now he and I could have a relationship. That he meant Ok, then I'll be here for you. I actually believed that's what he meant. I smiled, and ran over to him. And pushed myself into his arms and tried to hug him. And just burst into tears. I was blubbering."

"What'd he do, baby?"

"He held me off. Stiffened. Said, in the same tone of voice I knew so well, 'What is this? You're too old for this.' Like I'd ever been that way with him. He didn't exactly push me away, but he certainly let me know it was not welcome. I started crying more, I couldn't help it. I could not catch my breath. I was getting hysterical. He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me hard, and yelled, 'Stop it! Get a hold of yourself!'"

"And in that very second, as he was shaking me, I changed. I grew up. I looked at him, and I realized, finally, that he doesn't want it. He doesn't want me. He wants nothing to do with this. So there I had just cut off my mom and it was like I lost him, too—at least, my hope for him. And I realized I was alone. Totally alone. And I couldn't take it."

"Jesus, Craig, what the fuck's wrong with this guy? I hate him! What a goddamned dick!"

"So I went back to my room like a zombie and lay there comatose, awake, for the whole night. I knew what had happened but I couldn't really process it. And I swear to god, I've been reenacting that moment with him ever since. Every fucking time I see him I am that 12 year old boy."

Craig sighed and leaned back and grasped Evan tighter, needing him more than he ever had. "Evan I've never told anyone that story. Anyone. Not even my sister. Not even a fucking shrink."

"Hey—it's getting late, but I want to know—you said you changed after that. How?"

"I started to make friends. Lots of friends. I became very outgoing in school. I had to. I couldn't stand that feeling of being alone. And that's how things work for me—until, sometimes, they don't."

"Well let's get going. Let's have fun with some new friends."

Evan helped him up and as soon as they were upright Craig pulled him into a fierce hug. Evan felt him simply collapse in his arms and cling to him like he was made of rubbery jell-o.

"Hey, hey, shh . . . it's ok. . . it's ok," Evan whispered to him. He let Craig hold him, as long as he needed to. "I'm glad you could tell me. Come on. Everything's going to be fine. Let's go back to the hotel."

+++

Back in their room, they stripped off and got in the shower.

Evan was hard and so turned on as he soaped up Craig and cleaned him from head to toe. He couldn't stop touching him and kissing him. He'd never felt so close to him. He nuzzled him from behind, with his arms around his waist, and pushed his hard cock into his back.

"You are so brave. I never could have done what you did. I couldn't talk to my dad last weekend, and you did, and you were only 12. I find that amazing. And my dad's not half the asshole yours is, from the sound of it."

"I want to make you feel safe," Evan whispered. "Totally safe."

Craig turned around to look in his eyes. "You do. I feel completely safe with you. More than I ever have with anyone . . . except maybe my sister."

"You know what I want? Tonight?"

"What, baby?"

"I want to see you happy. I want you to show me how you like to have fun."

"I can do that," Craig laughed.

Evan hugged him and spoke in his ear. "And then, I want to come back here and be with you."

"Mmmmm . . . something to look forward to."

"I'll be thinking about it all night. Every second. I think you still have some things to teach me."

"Oh, that I can do."

A little while later they headed down to the lobby, and met up with their friends. Andy and three guys, including Josh, were waiting eagerly in the luxurious lobby in front of a huge fireplace roaring with a fake gas fire. As soon as Evan and Craig walked up, they heard a chorus of "Hi, Craig!"

"You look great."

"I love that shade of green."

"Really compliments your eyes."

Andy rolled his eyes and began to introduce his friends.

"Evan, Craig—you've met Josh. He's a friend from the gym. So is Joel. And this is Eric Wilson—I don't know if you know him, Evan. He works out of the Hollywood division. We met in the Academy way back when."

Evan couldn't help smiling at this little bit of information and glanced at Craig, who had a blatant "I told you so" expression on his face.

"So, you ready to go?"

They piled into two cars and headed down for the drive to San Diego. They'd settled on a neighborhood bar Andy knew well, with great drinks and a dance floor, but not insanely loud and crowded. They met up again at the entrance.

Craig walked in first, with both hands behind his back holding Evan's hand, kind of gently leading him on in. He wanted everyone to know he was with him.

Evan's first experience in a gay bar was something he'd never forget. Despite having been with Craig for a while, he was nevertheless nervous, and slightly paranoid, and had no idea what he would think. He felt like he had a giant baseball cap on his head with a neon sign flashing, "I'm GAY!!" And here he was with the hottest guy in town. All eyes were on Craig as they walked in, he could see it.

Inside, everywhere he looked he saw men, together. Talking, laughing, touching, kissing, loving each other out in the open. He was stunned. He felt it like a physical blow. It blew him away.

It was beautiful. It was so beautiful. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever beheld.

He had walked in thinking about being gay. It was so present in his self-awareness. This is a gay bar. I'm really doing it. And yet inside the place, that was the least of his thoughts. The word, the label, crumbled into meaningless. All he saw was love. Pure love and desire. His love and desire for Craig, everywhere, all around him.

His one single thought was the same one nagging him ever since he had met Craig: "How could I not have known? Why was this all hidden from me?"

It was almost like being shell-shocked. The reality of the place, with the lights and laughter and music, only slowly trickled in.

Andy led them over to a table by the bar, and instantly his three friends were demanding to get Craig (and Evan) a drink.

"What do you want Craig—a martini?"

"I'll get it! Something strong?"

"How about a Margarita?"

Evan found himself rubbing Craig's lower back as they all stood chatting and laughing. He never stopped touching him. His eyes never left his face, and every time he caught his eye they smiled a secret smile at each other.

Craig turned on the charm, and before long had everyone in hysterics. Evan was content to just let him shine, and bask in his reflected aura. He was so at ease, so at home, so accepting of everybody. He made them all love him and like themselves a little bit more. Evan was only happy to be there with him, and for him. After their talk, he felt like he understood him much better, and why he had turned out this way. Craig had managed to take one aspect of himself—this one aspect—and run with it, not looking back, not looking for approval. He embraced his sexuality without any hesitation; it was the lifeline to a self that would otherwise have been totally lost, or destroyed. Craig probably didn't see it, but Evan did.

Without quite being aware he was going to do it, he leaned closer to him at the table and kissed him softly on the cheek while running one hand down his back to his ass. As he did Craig leaned towards his face and caught his lips with his own, opened his mouth and slipped his tongue inside for everyone to see. Evan was vaguely aware of "Ohhs" and "Ahhs" of approval as he made out openly with Craig, but it only made him kiss him harder and more passionately. He couldn't stop himself. When they finally separated he was rock hard and breathing heavily and they were looking intently at each other, the heat of their lust evident for anyone to see.

When they finally pulled back from each other, everyone at the table and in the near vicinity was staring at them, open-mouthed and gaping.

It was Andy who finally broke the tension, gulping first and clearing his throat, "So, uh . . . how did you two meet, anyway?"

Craig's eyes were looking deeply into Evan's. "Evan here saved my life. Right, baby?"

Josh had to chime in at this point. "I knew you were gay! I knew it!"

Evan laughed. "Well then you knew more than me. Why did you think that, anyway?"

"Because you kept coming in. And . . . you were always alone . . . and it's just a thing. A vibe."

"Really? What about you, Andy?"

"I had my suspicions."

"More like dreams," Eric reminded him. "He's been talking about you for a long time. He didn't know. He wanted you to be."

"Well I assure you I had no idea. Not until Craig."

They all gaped at Craig again. "And he was your first. Jesus that's so hot."

"Yeah, it is," Evan murmured, and kissed him again.

"So who wants to dance?" said Craig, getting up and trying to drag Evan onto the dance floor.

"Me? No! Noooooo. No way."

"I will!" shouted Joel, jumping up and pushing Eric out of the way. "Come on."

"Go on," Evan said. "I want to watch you. Go have fun."

Eric and Josh went to join them on the dance floor, leaving Evan and Andy alone. A nice fast song came on and Evan watched Craig for a while. He was a good dancer, of course. Sexy. Free. Uninhibited. He saw him laugh as Joel got in front of him and they moved together with Craig's hands on his hips. Evan didn't notice that Andy was looking at him watching Craig.

"He's really cool," Andy said. "And nice. And HOT."

"Thanks," Evan said automatically, before laughing at himself. "I mean, yes, I think so."

"I'm glad we met up here. And I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to talk to me the other day. I've wanted to get to know you better."

"Well so am I. This has been a great night."

"I did notice you at the station. A lot. And at the gym. I always wanted to, I don't know, say something, but I had no idea if you would like it or not. You always seemed a little bit in your own world."

"Did I? I guess I was. Just keeping my head down. Doing my work. Seems like an eternity ago. Things have really changed in the last two months."

"Oh, well, dating the hottest guy on Sunset Strip, yeah I can see how that would change things."

"I guess so. You know, this is the first time we've been out with other guys since we met."

Andy could tell that Evan was completely besotted with Craig. It made him jealous to be near such obvious infatuation.

"Well I'm glad to find another 'friend' at the station. That place can be pretty uptight."

"I am, too. Honestly. Maybe we could have lunch next week. I want to hear more about your experience there."

"I'd love that. And maybe your boyfriend there can introduce me to some of his amazingly hot friends."

Evan laughed. "Of course. Maybe you'd want to come over for dinner or something."

"I'd love that!" Andy said quickly. "I'll come without the whole gang this time."

"I don't mind them. They're fun to be around. Where did you grow up, by the way? Are you from San Diego?"

"Yep. That's how I know Josh, primarily."

"So how'd you end up in Santa Monica?"

"Eh, I wanted a change. I was dating a cop down here. Same station. Same everything. We had a kind of bad break-up and I just wanted to get away. But LA's so different. I find it harder to meet men."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's pretty intense. The gay scene. Sort of freaks me out. It's so competitive, or something. I never feel like I'm cool enough. Or hot enough."

Evan laughed. "Andy—you're hot. And very nice. I always liked you. I met Craig through a total fluke. I wouldn't have the faintest idea how to start dating in LA myself."

"Ok then get your hot, nice guy to set me up."

"I'll see what I can do. He's definitely