InsaneJournal

     I noticed the difference only recently—nothing I could put my finger on, but there was something different about him, about us. I’m usually able to spot these changes a mile away, but I was completely blindsided. By what I don’t know. Love? Sex? Who the fuck knows!

     It started a couple of weeks ago with the nightmares. We hadn’t suffered those for quite a while, almost a year, so it was kind of surprising—all right, kind of frightening—when they started up again for no apparent reason.

     Even more confusing, there was no rhyme or reason when they occurred and the randomness ratcheted up the tension between us. Our reactions to them were getting more intense as well, more visceral; but at the same time, it seemed as if we didn’t know each other anymore, as if we were turning into different people.

     It was a domino effect, as sleep became a forgotten luxury, as nerves shot themselves to hell. We started to walk on eggshells, never really knowing what was going on in the other’s head. And the sex was getting weird, too. I can’t describe it, except to say that it was like getting inside each other and I don’t mean physically.

     Oh, and the other thing? We were having a problem with the heat and electricity in the loft. It was either too hot or too cold—yeah, I know, it sounds like a Goldilocks’ fairytale—and the lights would flicker on and off for no reason.

     We were freaking out, getting on each other’s nerves, feeling as if we were going to explode, and it was getting worse. So of course, we decided that a night of good ole’ fashioned debauchery, or business as usual, was exactly what we needed.

     That’s how we wound up at Babylon tonight. Under normal circumstances, neither of us would be caught dead there or anywhere else, other than the loft, on Halloween. But these weren’t normal circumstances, so we took a few deep breaths and entered the Halloween version of Sodom & Gomorrah, Babylon style.

    “Christ! Look at this! No wonder they’re such an easy target! They’re just asking for criticism and hate!”

    “What do you suggest? Line them all up and annihilate them?”

    “No, asshole! Of course not! It’s just that...”

    “It’s just nothing! That’s a long-term problem and it doesn’t concern us. What they look like, what we...” he said pointedly in my direction, “look like doesn’t matter.” 

    We were mesmerized by the sights and sounds, each pulsing beat sending a shiver through us, each accidental brush of costumed flesh traveling straight to our cocks. Everything was loud and visual, familiar yet eerily strange.

    “Some things that happen for the first time, seem to be happening again.” ©Rogers&Hart

    We elbowed our way through the crowd, both of us desperately needing a drink—a few, actually—noticing that everyone was already dutifully in place, plastered, metaphorically speaking, at the bar.

    Ben was dressed, of course, as a Buddhist monk. Talk about typecasting! Emmett and Michael decided to re-kindle the flame from their trip, pun intended, to Camp Fairy Fuck. Ted was looking as morose as ever in his accountant’s costume. Wait! Nope, not a costume.

   “Ooooo! Here they are guys!” Emmett’s squeal could hardly be heard over the din, but his trademark hand clapping and sprinkling of fairy dust made it fairly obvious that he was glad to see us.

   “Hey, Em!”

   “Not tonight, my fellow fairies! I’m Clear Day, at least until the witching hour of midnight, or should I be Clear Night? Well, anyway...” he gave a shake of his head, kindly showering us with more of his glitter, “you both know Dumpling?”

    Michael was grinning like a loon, even through the joking and teasing. I guess they had more of a head start on the evening than I realized. All of it would have continued until Ben finally brokered a truce. See what I mean about typecasting?

    Ted briefly interrupted his fascination with Babylon’s Halloween treat, an LED winking willie stirrer, to give us his evil eye. “You two look like shit! Maybe you should try something new, like sleeping perhaps?”

    His comment, of course, shifted attention to everyone’s favorite duo. Just what we wanted and needed.

   “You know? He’s right, sweeties!” Emmett peered at us through bloodshot eyes. “I hope you’re saving some condoms for the rest of us!”

   “Is that why we haven’t seen the two of you that much these past couple of weeks?” The predictable whine in Michael’s voice came through loud and clear.

   “Yeah, didn’t you know? We’re fucking 24/7! Trying to get into the Guinness Book of Records! I’m surprised we can still walk!” A quick nudge in the ribs was the unmistakable signal to shut up so I grudgingly turned my attention elsewhere, namely the half-naked bodies on the dance floor.

     The evening wore on. I mean, really wore on! I felt as if we were in a bubble, without a beginning or end, and I didn’t know how to burst it—or even if I wanted to—how to free us, until....

   “We have to get out of here. I can’t...I mean I...” The stricken look on his face said it all, taking my breath away with its emotion and confusion. I had the distinct impression that I’d seen it before and for some unexplained reason, I knew I would see it again and again.

   “Shh...” I reassured. “It’s ok. We’re going. Promise!” I always keep my promises. I’ve always kept them, no matter where or when with him.

    We deliberately ignored the raised eyebrows thrown in our direction because of our early departure and hurriedly said goodbye, assuring everyone that yes, we would most definitely be at Woody’s tomorrow night and yes, we would try not to spend so much time fucking (insert our raised eyebrows).

    The trip back to the loft was one of our more quiet rides, each of us deeply lost in thought. Sure enough, he was the one to break the delicious silence.

   “Do you think they ever wonder where they think they come from?”

     I looked at him with a peripheral glance of confusion. That last bump must have pushed him over the edge. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

   “You know what I mean!” he glared at me. “You’re just choosing not to discuss it. But I know you know!”

   “Fuck! I’m not going to dignify that ridiculous statement with an answer.”

   “Fine! Whatever!” He blew out an exasperated sigh and slouched lower in the seat with his arms folded, staring out the window.

    He was always pulling that crap. It was one of his trademark comments and patented gestures. He perfected them ages ago—they always made me feel like shit.

    We entered the loft cautiously, a habit that had actually become a habit because lately we were never sure what would greet us, never sure what we would find.

    When I tried the light switch, I wasn’t surprised the electricity didn't work, one of those never-ending puzzles that seemed to currently haunt us. He stood frozen by the door while I lit the candles.

   “Brian?” He didn’t have to say anything else. I heard it all—the fear, the uncertainty, the need—just as I’d heard it many times before.

   “Easy, Sunshine. It’s ok.” I ruffled his hair, basking in its unbelievable silkiness. Feeling my cock perk up at the touch, I whispered, “C’mon. It’s almost time.”

   We made our way silently and stealthily to the bedroom, stopping on the top step, our gaze naturally falling to the bed and the figures lying there.

   "Everything’s as it should be,” I murmured, taking his hand. ”I’m going to fuck you so hard...”

    He shivered at my words, and I noticed the goose bumps rise on his pale skin as he quickly stripped off his clothing, his cock already fully erect and leaking. I smiled to myself. After all this time, he was so predictable! But maybe it wasn’t his predictability at all. Maybe it was mine. What’s that saying in physics? To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction? I’m sure there’s a deep message for me there, but I haven’t figured it out yet.

   “I’m cold,” he chattered, arms gripping his middle tightly. “It’s freezing in here.”

   “You know it’ll heat up soon enough,” I teased.   

    His eyes never left mine as I flung my clothes on the floor. A moistened tongue ran across his lips, the intensity of his need randomly flickering throughout the loft, like a morse code of love.

    “I want you. I want to feel you filling me,” he whispered hungrily. His longing hit my cock with unerring accuracy as he moved closer and closer until finally, his hands were exploring every inch of my flesh, taking me to the edge and back with his expert knowledge of my body.

   “Bed!” I gritted, unable and unwilling to delay our moment in time.

    We settled ourselves on the mattress carefully and delicately, positioning our bodies with the utmost precision—we had done this before—and I slowly glided home, where I belonged, where I would always stay.

    With a familiar rhythm borne out of eons of practice, we started the journey—in and out, back and forth, thrusting and grunting toward our destination. We were so close, almost there, intuitively picking up the pace.

    “I love you! I love you!” His mantra was always the same—emotion-filled, gut-wrenching words bubbling up from the depth of his soul. The tears were flowing freely now and he choked back a sob. “We can’t forget! Promise me!”

     It will always be like this...same yet different. That’s why we have to remember, to imprint the moment. The more things stay the same, the more they change.

   “We—thrust—will—thrust—remember!” I gasped. God! Fuck! Just a little more and... “I PROMISE!”   

     In the blink of an eye, it was done.

“One last time, we’ll lay down today.

  One more time, we’ll slowly fade away.

  As their bodies lie in sleep, Our spirits rise through the air.

  We’ll meet again, my friend.” ©D.Theater

  But who knows where or when?  ©Rogers&Hart

                                          * * *

     Brian squinted against the glare of the morning light streaming into the loft, blinking rapidly in a game of visual chicken with the sun’s rays. Lying in bed with an arm across his eyes, he felt different somehow, but the explanation was too far away to give it serious thought.

     Relishing the silence, he let his mind drift, his lids automatically closing. And then it hit him, the reason why he felt so odd— he felt rested and holy shit, refreshed! He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way. It seemed so long ago.

     He sat up cautiously, expecting his body to betray him and collapse back onto the mattress. Moving his head slightly to make sure this wasn’t some kind of cosmic joke, he tentatively stood and stretched. Everything was in working order.

    With a stupid grin, he turned toward the bed and realized something, someone, was missing. His smile immediately morphed into a frown and a jolt of anxiety buzzed through his system, his eyes darting around the room. He took long strides to the bathroom just to check.

    He always got up before Justin, always had to drag his sorry ass out of bed (granted, after he usually dragged it in). Trying to process this latest unexpected turn of events, he resisted the temptation to start making phone calls and instead, pulled on a pair of jeans from the closet, his mouth grimly set. He was halfway across the living room when the loft door opened with a bang.

   “Hey, sleepy head! You’re finally up! This is a first! I was up before you!” Justin chirped, pulling the door closed with a grinding thud. “I figured since I was awake, I’d get breakfast.” He bounded energetically toward the kitchen and was already emptying the bags when he felt strong arms around his waist, a kiss on his neck, and a chin on his shoulder.

     Rationalizing that there was always time for breakfast, he turned around in the small space between Brian and the cabinet.

   “What was that for? I mean not that I wasn’t pleasantly surprised, but...”

     Brian stroked the blond hair, suddenly feeling foolish. No need to worry, he reassured himself. Justin was here and he was all right. That was all that mattered.

   “You ok?” The blue eyes clouded over with concern.

   “Of course, I am! Why wouldn’t I be? It’s a beautiful sunny day and I have a fresh breakfast waiting for me.” He added with a smirk, “Both courses!”

    With a playful smack to the bare arm, Justin pushed himself away and continued to unpack the food. “You know, I haven’t had such a good night’s sleep and felt this great since...Well, I honestly can’t remember. I slept like a log!”

   “Sunshine, you always sleep like a log!” Leaning against the counter, Brian uncovered his coffee, taking a thoughtful sip before answering. “But I know what you mean.” Shaking his head, a small laugh sneaked out. “I guess whatever shit we took...” He stopped and looked at Justin quizzically. “We did go to Babylon last night, didn’t we?”

   “Well, yeah, sure. Where else would we have gone? We wouldn’t have stayed home. Right?”

     The hazel eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you asking or telling? Because honestly? I’m a little fuzzy. Not that I don’t remember, but it’s just not clear, you know?” He stared into his cup and swallowed a large mouthful of the hot, bitter liquid, the caffeine’s appeal of a hopefully clear and focused mind too strong to ignore. “Jesus Christ! Can they make this shit any hotter?” He carefully touched his tongue with his index finger.

    “Aw, poor thing! That’s why you can’t just gulp it down, you know!” Ignoring Brian’s glare, Justin teased, “Do you want them to serve cold coffee? You’d be the first in line bitching and moaning!” He sipped hesitantly from his own cup. “So, what were you saying before you injured one of your best assets?” Another glare, another pause—both ignored as he prodded gently, “Bri?”

    “It’s nothing. Just that...” Brian shook his head, trying to clear the cobweb of a misty memory, and shrugged. “You know? I don’t know! I mean, I know we were there but...”

    “But it also feels as if we weren’t,” Justin finished softly, holding his breath.

    “Yeah! Yes! Exactly! How’d you...?” Brian questioned, slightly unnerved by Justin’s corroboration, yet surprisingly relieved. At least he wasn’t going crazy alone.

     Justin swirled the remaining liquid in his cup, wishing he could remember more clearly, grimacing at the ironic deja vu of that thought. “I was with you, remember? Although ‘remember’ might be entirely subjective right now.”

     A firm believer in “what’s done is done”—other than those instances concerning Justin of course—Brian decided that enough was enough. It was time to move on and forget about Halloween and the events surrounding it.

    “I say, fuck it!” Squaring his shoulders, he grabbed Justin’s cup and threw it into the garbage, nudging him toward the bedroom. “Come on, Mr. Taylor, time for my first breakfast course.”

    As they shuffled out of the kitchen, Justin whispered, “Why Mr. Kinney, sir, are you planning on taking advantage of my innocent self?”

    Brian smirked, still pushing them along. “Only in your dreams, Sunshine, only in your dreams!”

    So hypnotized by each other, so in love with each other, they didn’t notice two shadows skimming across the loft—also, very much in love.

All of your yesterdays and all of your tomorrows are forever  bound with ours.

Tethered  and chained, we are forever...together