My Big Fat Gay Life (55 page)

“No, I want you to leave.”

“Leave?!” I’d exclaimed. “You can’t be serious!”

“I’m quite serious,” he’d stated, leaning forward and taking my hand in his. His demeanour softened somewhat. “In a community such as this, there are sheep, and there are shepherds. I know you didn’t set out deliberately to undermine my position here, but you are a natural shepherd. Communities like this can only have one shepherd.”

“Why?” I’d asked, genuinely confused.

“Ego, pure and simple,” he’d replied. “They’re my people, and I don’t want to share their adulation.”

With that, I’d punched Todd in the nose and left. Two months later, I’d bought an extensive country estate and started building my own family. Although I didn’t seek them out, many of my friends from Todd’s commune came to live with me. Now, we’re a thriving, self-sustaining community of gardeners, teachers, cooks, seamstresses, etc. We’re a family.

* * *

“You may kiss the bride,” the priest announced, forever sealing Toni and Anthony together in matrimony. The delighted couple sucked face, and the assembly applauded.

Donovan, my love, I wish you could be part of my new family. I also wish you could see how the family I had with you has thrived.

At that moment, I could swear I felt a hand brush against my cheek. I raised my hand and touched the phantom hand as a tear overflowed and ran down my face.

“I know you’re here,” I whispered softly. “I miss you, my love.”

I stood in the shower, resting my hands against the wall and allowing the jet of hot water to ease my fatigued muscles. I heard the shower screen door open, and felt a hand rub my back.

“Want me to wash your back?” Justin asked.

“Sure,” I replied.

“Quite a day, wasn’t it,” he observed.

“It was a fantastic day,” I agreed as Justin started rubbing soap on me. “I hope Toni enjoyed it.”

“I’m sure she had a blast,” Justin said.

Toni and Anthony had left nearly two hours ago, and we’d just managed to shove the last guest out the door half an hour ago.

“Who would have thought we’d ever have a full-on religious ceremony in this house,” Justin said. “I hope the Universe understands.”

“I’m sure the Universe doesn’t mind in the slightest,” I told him. We took turns soaping and rinsing each other off, revelling in the heat and steam.

“Patricia looked good,” Justin said.

“Yeah she does, surprisingly,” I agreed. “But since she started shaving her head and stopped wearing make-up, she’s looked quite old. And what’s with that sack she was wearing?”

“It was hideous!” Justin laughed. “It looked like something you’d lug around a load of potatoes in.”

“I’m so tired!” I sagged against the wall slightly, my eyelids growing heavy.

“Come on then,” Justin said. He took my hand and led me out of the shower, and then he towelled me down gently. Once I was dry, he led me into the bedroom.

“Ahh, there he is,” I said. “The man in my life.” At some point, Jack had abandoned his own bed and snuck into ours. Now he was curled up and sleeping peacefully in the middle of our big bed.

“I thought I was the man in your life,” Justin pouted.

“Nah,” I joked. “I just use you for sex.”

“Hah! I wish,” Justin joked in return.

* * *

Six years ago, when Justin, Kyra, and I had first moved into the house, Justin and I had still been a little wary around each other. We’d both gone through our own recriminations and self-recriminations regarding Ruth’s suicide, and we’d achieved a friendly peace. We were still working on repairing the easy, close friendship we’d enjoyed before Ruth’s suicide and my drug overdose whilst babysitting Kyra.

It wasn’t an easy process. Justin hadn’t visited me once during my hospital stay or time in rehabilitation, and I’d grieved for the loss of my friendship with him, certain that I’d damaged it beyond repair. However, one day quite unexpectedly, Justin had come to my apartment with Kyra and didn’t leave for two days. We’d talked, cried, yelled, laughed, and ultimately managed to clear the air.

I suspected Patricia and/or Donovan’s meddling fingers were involved in patching up my relationship with Justin, and I loved them for it. My suspicions were confirmed a few months later when they’d suggested that Justin and I move into their home, and they move into mine.

“It may not be a conventional family,” Donovan had said, “but you guys are a family. You need a family home.”

So Justin, Kyra, and I had moved into the big house. The intention was to have separate lives, but still be there for each other if needed. Instead, Justin and I had grown even closer than we ever were. The only time we were apart was when Justin was working at Rainbow’s End, or if he was on a date.

* * *

“Should I put him back in his own bed?” Justin asked me quietly, indicating Jack.

“No,” I responded. “Let him sleep here tonight.”

Justin and I crawled into bed slowly, trying not to disturb the sleeping boy.

“Shouldn’t I be in the spare room tonight?” I asked Justin. “Where’s Ashleigh?”

“I sent her home,” he answered. “Told her I was way too tired for one of her marathon sex sessions.”

I chuckled gently.

“Are you coming to the opening of my exhibition?” I asked him.

“Of course!” he said.

* * *

As part of my recovery from my addiction and resulting health problems, I’d started sculpting again. It was great therapy for me, giving me an outlet to pour my despair, desires, and dreams into. After I felt complete and had beaten my inner demons, my art became my life.

Over the years, I’d developed quite a name for myself. I was selling many pieces, and galleries were clamouring to display my work. I regularly donated large art installations to public spaces, and had regular commissions for my work. Life was good.

* * *

One night, six months or so after Justin and I had moved into the big house, he took me completely by surprise.

“I have a proposal for you,” he’d said. We were relaxing in the hottub, just after he’d put Kyra to bed.

“Oh?” I queried. “What is it?”

“I want you to fuck me,” he’d said, stating it quite simply.

I was flabbergasted: totally gob-smacked.

“Just think about it,” he’d continued. “You don’t have to answer now, but I think it makes perfect sense. I love to be fucked up the arse, and you have your needs too.”

“I can only think of a few reasons why that would be a bad idea,” I’d told him. “A. You’re straight! B. I am happy with the closeness we have now. Sex would change everything! C. You’re straight! D. Why ruin what we have? E. Did I mention, you’re straight! F. I’m HIV+. G. You’re fucking straight!”

“We’d work it out,” he’d countered. “I could just pretend you’re a woman with a warm dildo. And of course, it would be totally safe sex.”

“I know what you’re doing,” I’d told him, softening my tone. I moved around the hottub and placed my head on his chest.

“Oh? What do you think I’m doing?” I could just imagine the fake look of wide-eyed innocence on his face.

“You’re wording it in such a way that it would be like I was doing you a favour because you want your prostate tickled, but I know the truth. You want to get me back in the saddle. You’re concerned that I’ve shown no interest in dating, sex, or life outside this house. You think that if you can re-ignite my sex drive, I may have a chance of finding a man.”

“There may be an element of that,” he’d conceded.

“Justin, I love you dearly, but I don’t want to have sex with you; or with anyone, for that matter. And I definitely don’t want a man.”

“Sebby,” he’d said. “You’re an amazing person, and you have so much to offer the world. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” I’d assured him, snuggling in closer to him.

“Is it because of your HIV status that you’re avoiding sex?” he’d asked. During my stay in hospital after my overdose, tests had revealed that I was HIV+. As a result of all the blackouts I’d suffered under the influence of drugs, I had no idea if I’d been infected by sharing needles or by careless unsafe sex, and ultimately it makes no difference.

“No,” I’d told him. “I don’t want sex because I’m very happy with my life as it is right now. You and Kyra are my family. I don’t know if you’re feeling a little guilty because you have your string of big-breasted airheads to fuck you and I have nobody, but if you do feel guilty, then get over it! I’m very happy that you have a good sex life. I’d be even happier if you met an amazing woman and settled down with her.”

“I just feel like I’m being selfish,” he’d responded. “You have so much to give, and I’m the only one taking it.”

* *

Six months later, it was my turn to shock Justin.

“Would you mind if somebody else moved in with us?” I’d asked him. We were enjoying a rare quiet moment of spooning in bed, and he’d rolled over to face me.

“You sly dog!” he’d exclaimed. “Did you finally get your end wet?”

“No,” I’d laughed. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. How I have so much to offer. I think it’s time to share. I want to have a child.”

“How are you going to manage that?” Justin appeared to be genuinely shocked. “Doesn’t that involve some inherently unsafe sex? With a woman? You do know where babies come from, right?”

“Relax,” I’d said. “Take a few deep breaths. There are IVF techniques these days that guarantee no risk to the mother from infected seminal plasma. They strip the plasma, just leaving the swimmers to do their thing.”

“I think that’s a great idea!” he’d exclaimed. “You’d make an awesome Dad. In fact, you already are with Kyra.”

* * *

So a few years later, Jack had entered our lives. So far, the surrogate mother had honoured the contract and not made contact since the birth two years ago. As I lie in bed and watched Jack snuggle into Justin’s arms, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. The Universe had given me everything I needed, plus a lot of things I wanted.

However, after all my trials and tribulations, I know not to grow complacent. Complacency is an open invitation for the Universe to test people and, although tests are good for the soul, I’ve had enough for the time being. So I continue on my path with forward momentum, ready to face any new challenges while still enjoying the blessings the Universe has bestowed on me, and never, ever, taking anything for granted.

I snuggled under the covers and spooned into Justin, kissing him on his shoulder.

“I love you, Sebby,” he said, his voice deep and hoarse with sleep. “Sleep well.”

“I love you too,” I replied, and within seconds I was sleeping peacefully with the men in my life.

THE END

Sebastian is a psychiatrist in his early 30's who constantly rebels against his parents. Ironically, the more he rebels the more he ends up like them. He wanted to become an artist and create grand art installations, but ended up following the path of least resistance and joined the family calling of psychiatry instead.

Although Sebastian is attracted to men, he doesn't define himself as gay. He's not into the gay scene, he doesn't attend pride parades, and he doesn't live a gay lifestyle at all. Although technically he may be gay, there are many other aspects to his life and personality, and he feels it's wrong to define yourself as gay when being gay is not all that you are.

Sebastian can be shy or outgoing, prudish or outrageous, confident or unsure of himself, and attentive or distant. He's full of contrasts, and has trouble making friends as a result. It's tough to get to know him.

Being old-fashioned at heart, Sebastian is searching for 'the one'... The one person that will make his life complete. He believes in monogamy and honesty. He has ethics and morals. He volunteers his skills generously. He recycles.