Who The Sphinx & the Unicorn. OR. Taj & Andy When After the calm before the storm. OR. After the V-day madness went back to pretending everything was normal. Feb 22 Where Taj's house. OR. Andy's Room What Getting Caught. OR. Being Found. ?? Warnings ALL OF THEM. Just kidding but - NSFW Status In Progresso
Taj was a generally well put together kid.
Yeah not.
He may have had the even steven nature that would seem most agreeable to anything. Live and let live, never pushing the rights and wrongs of things, but Taj was a lot of things. A genius IQ. Book smarts. A technological genius. An artist. A musician. A young sphinx with close to omniscient potential as a living oracle. The daddy to two cats. A government project and thorn in their side. A system kid. A victim of munchausen by proxy syndrome. A brother.
Oh yeah. Brother? That's right. He had 4 of them.
But, there was only one that he'd gone and not only lost his virginity to at age 15, and then grabbed by councilors and dragged off 5 minutes after, ran away from his orphanage with, earned money to live by cheating at online gambling with his sphinxy gifts, hid out in a motel making and falling in love with, while a state wide child hunt was on to find them, only for Andy to have a narcoleptic drop in public, 911 dispatched, and to be torn and dragged back to the orphanage practically kicking and screaming while his brother was taken off in an ambulance, eventually coming to a mark in time where the relationship was put completely off as the world kept trying to tear them apart. Yeah. He only had one brother like that.
That was Andy.
They'd gone for so long, years being these intimately cozy brothers, more than brothers, lovers, minus the sex if that even made sense. But that's what it was. Andy had a habit of sleeping around with dangerous men, not taking care of himself, in some sort of haze of his sexually abused past that landed him in the foster care system to begin with. But, Taj was always there...waiting...dating but never really letting anyone in. Waiting.
Waiting. Content with his family of foster brothers and intimate cuddle sessions and never pushed for more. Waiting.
Just waiting.
As if something might change someday.
Brothers. Yeah brothers. Taj had a scare. Andy spoke about Adrian in a way that scared him to death. He was content with Andy's cycle of astranged men (worried for his safety as he was) because as long as he was doing that, Taj still felt like the special one. No one had Andy's heart. That was what he told himself.
No one had Andy. That was safe.
Whether they patched their last little quarrelly moment up or not and moved along like they always do. Taj still wasn't feeling right about anything. He checked out often. Sitting on the roof and staring at the sky, day and night, starting to slack off at work. The more anxious he got the more he cut himself from his own powers. His damn foresight never let him see what he needed for himself. What luck!?
So on this evening Taj had been in his studio singing and recording some new song until he couldn't take it anymore, the emotions from his own lyrics hitting him too hard. He ended up in Andy's room, because Andy told him to sleep in there more often. He turned up the music loud in his earbuds and cut himself off from the outside world. The song of the moment was Poets of the Fall - Psychosis and it was blaring loud enough to be a fuzzy but identifiable sound even though it was meant only for him to hear. He was high again too. That wasn't normal. He'd only just done it the other day. He really didn't make it a regular habit. But, he laid in the center of the bed and looked up the many pointed star ornaments hanging from the ceiling that symbolized so much to him as he played air guitar on his bare stomach, screaming out the lyrics.
"Well it's a different man in your face And so out of place That you can see anything there that you wish Kiss my bliss It's like I'm a welcoming freakshow doormat Held in awe while growing fat in the head This is where we all should see red A big fat wet slab of red
And I see that it makes me anti everything And I see that it makes me want to shed my skin, shed my skin"
It really would have been a sight considering the ear buds in if someone would have walked in. But as his energy releasing, shirtless, rage moment grew it he looked from the stars to the framed photograph of Andy. Taj stared at it as he undid the zip of pants and started to stroke himself. He rolled over on all fours and starting to really have himself a little masturbation session, his jeans falling low on his hips, almost off his rear, black boxers starting to do the same. With the earbuds and the music blaring he may not of realized how loud he was being himself. His gaze stayed locked on the photo frame, even through the hair that hung over his eyes. His was getting into it, his back arching and swaying with his pumps, his muscles taught in his working arm. He was letting out all sorts of crying whimpery noises, loud enough to be heard downstairs. But, what did he care anyway? It was his house. He was alone.
Or so he thought?
He was coaxing himself with words too, just not quite getting there, but it still feeling...so...good. There was an anger in his eyes though unseen from the door which was left wide open. His whimpers were mixing with, "Come on... come on... yeah, there ya go, that's it..."
Then...
"Oh fuck Andy yesssss. oh yess. That's it Andy baby."
It may have been quite possible that Taj never pressed for more from Andy because he had his own little imaginary world that went well beyond the rooftop he and Andy spoke of.