Better Than Another Man (3 page)

“Come on.” He directed and I followed.

We went back to the dorm and Carey did just what he said he would, pouring out every last drop of the good stuff. I showered, slept, and when I got up Carey fed me a hot meal, then piled my neglected schoolwork in front of me, forcing me to get back to it. Not that it would help at this point, I still wouldn’t graduate, at least not at the same time that he would. And I didn’t want to be here if he wasn’t.

After that, we fell into our old pattern. What happened between us that night went un-discussed and unresolved. At least for me.

At night, I would lie in my bed, trying desperately not to think about our encounter. But my body betrayed me every time. It was downright painful. But I refused to jerk off over my best friend. How fucked up was that? I hated myself and the things I was feeling. I wanted to drink it all away.

Things were strained between Carey and me. I was avoiding him. And he kept busy with culminating projects for school and interning at a local firm, coming home late, after I’d turned in. But according to some of the other guys, Carey was hitting the clubs after work. Nice. I couldn’t imbibe, but he was out living it up.

So the next week, I slept with every girl that even looked at me sideways, or had ever come on to me before, in an attempt to prove to myself that things were still as they should be. I licked enough pussy my tongue should have been raw. I could still get and maintain a hard-on for the female persuasion and I could still fuck their brains out and enjoy it, immensely, and so did they.

I even attended one those parties that parents don’t want to admit their college-age daughters go to, let alone participate in. But being a normal red-blooded guy, I was grateful that they did. You know the ones, it’s all a big competition, for the girls to get the guys off and the guys try to be the last one, uh, standing so to speak. I think every institute of higher learning has a different name for it. We called it the gauntlet. The guys lined up and the girls gave them blowjobs. The last guy to blow his load was the winner.

And this bash, to my immense pleasure turned into a rainbow party. That’s when each girl wears a different colour of lipstick, and they take turns going down on a guy, and the one who can deep throat him the farthest is the winner. It made your dick look like a rainbow in the end but, wow, it was a blast! Yeah, I still had it. Nothing to worry about. The old Bryan was back. All my parts were working well and overtime.

I went back to the apartment after an eventful afternoon, to shower and change. I had a different date lined up for the night shift.

As soon as I walked into the apartment, Carey began to gather his stuff as though he was preparing to leave. He tossed a stack of messages in my direction. “Busy week?” he sneered.

I looked through them as if I actually gave a shit. “Yeah, it’s been a good one. Where are you off to?”

“I’m meeting Rafe over at the Sherwood.” The abrupt tone remained.

“Rafe? You’ve been seeing a lot of him lately.” Rafe worked at the same firm where Carey was interning.

“Yep,” he said shortly. “I’d appreciate it if you’d clean up your mess.”

I surveyed the living area. Dirty socks and newspapers littered the room. Every dish I’d used in the last week was right where I’d left it.

“You are a slob,” he added, closing the door without waiting for a reply.

Suddenly, I had no desire to go out. I tossed the messages into the trash and picked up my dishes and socks then had a shower. I called the girl I was supposed to meet, canceled our date and closed myself in my room.

I thought about my dad. I hadn’t even talked to him in the weeks since Mom died, and I felt bad about it. I decided to give him a call. As soon as he answered I knew he wasn’t good, he sounded so down. But when I couldn’t even get him to hold up his end of the conversation, we said our good-byes and hung up.

I attempted to do some work. Unable to keep my mind on things, I finally fell asleep.

I heard Carey come in around three. I listened, then pulled my pillow over my head when I realized he wasn’t alone. Fuck! As if I needed to hear that!

When the cushion wouldn’t drown out the noise, I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV so I couldn’t hear them.

I got up about an hour after things had quieted down. It was still pretty early but I was starving so I made myself some breakfast. I had every intention of being out of the apartment before they got up, but I had no such luck.

“Mmm, I thought I smelled bacon,” Rafe said, smiling as he exited Carey’s bedroom. He wore a pair of briefs and nothing more. I looked up at him with disapproval. I never liked the guy. I thought he was a fuckin’ asshole with an extra-large ego. He reached over and tried to snag a piece of bacon from my plate. Childishly, I pulled it out of his reach.

Carey emerged from the bedroom and tossed Rafe a pair of pants. “Put those on.”

“Why, you afraid your roomy can’t handle the sight of me in my underwear?” He grinned cheekily.

My face grew hot. Had Carey told him what had happened between us?

“You’re not my type,” I snapped.

“We have an agreement,” Carey explained, while pouring coffee. “I don’t parade half-dressed guys around here, and he doesn’t do the same with his harem.” That was a shot.

I placed my dishes in the sink and made a quick decision. I had to get out of here. I hated feeling so uncomfortable around Carey all the time. It had never been like this between us. We could do and say anything when we were together, without fear of judgment or ridicule.

“I’ll see ya sometime Monday, alright?” I leaned over to speak privately to Carey.

“Monday? Where are you going?” He actually looked at me for the first time in days.

“I’m gonna go visit my dad.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come with. I’d like to see him, too.”

“It was a spur of the moment thing. I talked to him last night. He doesn’t sound so good. And now that I’ve got a little better handle on my own shit, thanks to you, I think I should go home and help out. And maybe it would be best just me, this first time being back since, my mom…ya know.”

“Hey, yeah,” Rafe interrupted, obviously eavesdropping on our personal conversation. “Bad deal, sorry to hear about your mom.”

I looked at Carey.
Bad Deal
? I mouthed.

He rolled his eyes.

“Thanks,” I said to Rafe, heading to my room. I packed a few things and headed out.

“Call me if you need anything, or there’s something I can do.” Carey walked with me to the door.

“Sure.”

He followed me out onto the step closing the door so Rafe couldn’t hear, I assumed. “Bryan, I hate this. I’m still here for you, you know.”

I tossed my bag into the backseat. “I know. I’ll see you in a few days.”

I got into the car and drove away.

* * * *

Bryan was avoiding me, and he’d been a complete and total asshole since our kiss-that-would-be-ignored. He’d been out with every fuckin’ skank that would give him the time of day and he brought them to our dorm room and I had to endure them having sex—it’s not like he was quiet. It was almost like he was trying to prove a point.
See, I’m not gay!
And then when I did the same thing, brought my significant other home, Bryan made me feel like shit and that I was running him out of his own place. Jesus! I hated this.

I went back inside and sent Rafe home, no longer in the mood for his company.

I showered and changed my bed and couldn’t get that jackass roommate of mine out of my head. Bryan had said his dad didn’t sound good and for him to actually notice that, the situation couldn’t be good. Bryan and his father were very much alike. The more I thought about it the more anxious I became. What if his dad was coping with situation the way Bryan had for the last few weeks? Crap!

I packed an overnight bag and headed home. The worst that could happen was that Bryan wouldn’t want me there and he’d send me packing. But I had a feeling Bryan needed me.

Chapter Three

I was shocked to see the condition of my parent’s house when I arrived home. It looked like my dad hadn’t touched a thing since I’d gone back to school after the funeral.

He was seated at the table looking off into space. He hadn’t even heard me come in.

“Hey, Dad.”

He swiveled, slowly, to look at me. He’d aged ten years in a month.

“Hey, Bryan, what are you doing home?” He rushed to get up and started clearing away plates of nasty looking dried food. But there was no room to put it on the kitchen counter for the other dishes piled there.

“Here, let me get that.”

“No, no, I can get it.” But when he went to stack it, the whole collection fell, smashing on the floor.

“Damn it!” He cursed and started firing plate after plate against the floor or at the nearest wall. I’d never seen him lose it.

“Dad! Dad! Stop!” He jerked and looked at me, as if he were surprised to see me.

“Bryan? I didn’t know you were coming home.”

He started to shake uncontrollably and by the time I reached him I had to catch him. I lowered him to the floor and pulled out my cell and called 911.

An ambulance came and took him to the hospital. I followed in my car. Hours later old Doctor Dunn came out to the waiting room to talk to me. He’d been our family doctor as long as I could remember. He sat down beside me.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s run down, malnourished, dehydrated, exhausted and still grieving. I assume he hasn’t been taking care of himself since your mom passed?”

I felt like shit. I’d been on my own selfish grief binge, but I’d had Carey to look after me and make sure I was fed and safe. I didn’t even think to take care of my dad. “I honestly didn’t know, Doc, this is the first time I’ve seen him since. I’ve been away at school, and I know that’s no excuse, but…” I shrugged.

He patted my knee. “We all grieve in our own way, son. Now, I’ve got him on a drip, we’ll fatten him back up, get him in his right mind again and everything will be back to normal. Well, the new normal, without your mother, unfortunately. He might need a little extra help getting over that. Your father’s kinda stubborn, as I remember. I might need you to back me up when I suggest it.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Good lad. I’ll talk to you later. You should go home and get some rest yourself. These next few days are going to be horrendous, I think.”

“Can I see him first?”

“I’ve got him sedated at the moment. You can go in, but he won’t know you’re there.”

I checked on him anyway, and then headed back home.

When I got there, Carey’s car was parked in the driveway. I went inside. He had a lot of the mess already cleaned up.

I felt like crying. How did he always know when I needed him the most?

Carey was up to his elbows in a sink of sudsy water washing what was left our dishes.

“Care,” I choked.

He peeled off the yellow rubber gloves and tossed them on the counter. I moved into his shoulder before he could take two steps. He held me as I clung to him. It felt like home to have his strong arms around me again.

I sighed heavily, closing my eyes filling my lungs with his familiar smell. Having him here made everything seem more manageable.

“What the hell happened here?” he asked, running his hands up and down my back.

“My dad had a major melt down when I came in. He was throwing things and Jesus, it was awful.” He held me tighter.

“It looks like he hasn’t done a thing since we went back to school. I feel awful, we shouldn’t have gone back.”

“No,” I said, moving out of his hold. “
I
shouldn’t have. He’s my dad. But I’m a selfish fuckin’ jerk and I wasn’t thinking about anybody but myself.”

“He’s like a dad to me too, Bry. When my father turned his back on me, yours didn’t. He never treated me any different before or after he found out I was gay. Neither of your parents did.”

“That’s because my dad doesn’t really know what that means.” I chuckled desolately.

“Yes, he does. Don’t kid yourself. Now, where is he?”

“I had to take him to the hospital. He’s sick. Rundown, dehydrated and he hasn’t been eating. I had to leave him there. He wasn’t making any sense.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t have time, honestly. The ambulance came and I followed and then I just waited until they could tell me something.”

Carey’s lips tightened as if he didn’t believe me, but he nodded. He turned back to the sink, pulling on the gloves, washing dishes again.

I placed my hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I was going to call, when I got back here and had something to report.”

“Sure,” he said.

I turned him to look at me. “Why did you come?”

He returned my steady gaze. “Well, I got to thinking after I sent that ego with feet, Rafe, packing…”

“Woohoo, really? You did? Permanently?”

“Try and keep your exuberance to a minimum, will you. I liked him. In the beginning, at least.”

“He’s a jerk.”

“
Anyway
, I got to thinking how much you and your father are alike, and that I’d almost bet you grieve in the same way too. I thought you might need my help. I was right.” He pointed to a collection of empty vodka bottles he’d gathered. There had to be at least thirty. That was one per day.

I winced. “Where’d you find all those?”

“Everywhere. In the living room, the bathroom, which is a whole other disgusting matter—you at least hold your liquor in. They were all over the bedroom, even under the bed. Your mom’s clothes are strewn around the room too, like maybe he did the same thing in there that he did with the dishes. He’s angry she died.”

“Well, who isn’t? I’ll get the vacuum and get these bits of glass up, so you don’t cut those dainty feet of yours while you’re getting dish pan hands.”

“That’s why I have the gloves, dumbass.”

“Then I’ll tackle the bathroom.”

“Good deal.”

Just before I left the room, I said, “Thanks, Care.”