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facing the future
Austin

Peter and I continued to see each other for weeks that turned into months.  I shared with Peter that I'd kind of been resolved not to get involved with anyone for a while before I'd met him--to not be dependent on anyone, and to regroup, and focus on my goals and ambitions.  Then as everything in our relationship started falling in to place, I realized that I couldn't have possibly planned it better if I'd tried.  His reaction was simply that things happened the way they were meant to happen.  They certainly had been, and we'd become inseparable despite our separate, busy schedules.

Almost two months after we began dating, Julie moved out of the apartment, and in with her boyfriend from the band.  It made sense; she was paying half the rent at a place she never stayed.  Peter put his name on the rent the next day, and his modest apartment became united with mine.  Our living room actually had enough furniture in it now, and the extra bedroom fit Peter's old bed perfectly.  We'd become something of a regular couple, complete with a guest room and a little black Pug named Sam.

Several weeks ago,  we went to his parents' house out in the country.  Peter had just explained to his mom over the phone how we were dating.  He'd shut himself in the bedroom to call, unsure of how she'd react, and unsure, probably, of his own reaction.  It was a long conversation, and when he'd finally emerged, his eyes were reddened with tears.  He was smiling, though, as he wiped at them with his sleeve.  Laughter hit him as he wrapped himself around me and said, sniffing with surprised relief,
"They want us to come this weekend!  Tell me you're not busy!"
So, we travelled north to meet his parents.  I could see a little bit of Peter in both of them.  His dad was reserved, but sharply academic.  His mother had this big organic garden from which she conducted research and created amazing raw foods.  Both of them were incredibly welcoming, progressive, and from all I saw, maintained a great relationship with their son. One night, Peter and his dad went to the store, and his mom and I talked about Peter and my relationship while we chopped food into millions of little pieces.  She asked what did on our first date, and to my surprise and reddened cheeks, she asked if we were safe about "being intimate".  I'd quickly and pointedly assured her so.  After dinner that night we laid in bed in his parents' guest room. I told him what his mom had asked, and we had a good laugh in the dark.  He told me how his dad, while comparing two packages of light bulbs at the store, had told him how proud of Peter he was.  Peter's voice cracked and with each tear that slipped over his cheeks, his anxiety seemed to dissipate as relief must have surely flooded in.

Today, my sister had called asking if she could meet us for lunch.  She hadn't actually met Peter yet, and we were all going to a show together this weekend; I figured she should.  We all arranged to meet at this cafe near the hospital since Peter would be coming late.  My sister nudged me as I was putting honey in my tea, causing me to drizzle my plate with it.  I was telling her about Peter's mom's raw food and the million little pieces of goodness when her sharp elbow made contact with my rib bones.
"Austin, that's totally him, isn't it?"
I rubbed where her needly elbow had nearly punctured my skin. She'd guessed every metro guy that walked in.  I looked up, expecting to see some ultra-flamboyant sex-pot, only to watch my lover walking towards us confidently in his scrubs and knitted cap.  She probably knew by the adoring gaze he was looking at me with. I grinned helplessly at Amy.  He leaned in and kissed my lips, lingering warmly before sitting down with us at the table.
"Hey, sorry I'm late.  You must be Amy?" He stuck out his hand to my sister, who shook it with a wrist full of hemp and friendship bracelets, and a smirk.
His other hand rested on my thigh.
"You must be Peter?"  She said, grinning mischievously from behind her long and wavy blonde hair, "I've heard you're making my brother disgustingly happy."
"Am I now?"  He grinned sideways at me and squeezed my thigh.  He took his beanie off as he spoke.
'Well I certainly hope so, and it's great to meet you finally.  You two have pretty similar features," he said, turning back to her, "I'll bet people comment on it a lot...same hair...same eyes."
"Yeah," Amy said, rolling her eyes with drama, "He often gets mistaken for me, and I have to say no no, I'm over here."
I laughed half-heartedly, rolled my eyes and gave Peter a look that said 'see what I grew up with?'
"Well, you're both stunning....so Austin said you're coming with us to the Bjork concert?"  Peter asked her as he looked down at his menu.
"Yep, I'm stoked!  We're all riding together, right?  Austin will you drive?"
"Yeah, of course," I agreed, distractedly as I looked at the menu and played with Pete's hand under the table.
"Yeah she's such an inspiration.  It'll be other-wordly."  Peter added.  I nodded in agreement.
"So Amy, what are you working on?"  I asked as she'd mentioned over the phone that she might want to use Peter and me in a project.
"Oh, sequence shots.  It's basically any grouping of shots that are done in succession...any interval,"  she looked at us with conviction, "Everyone is doing, like, pseudo-edgy contrived stuff, and I want to do something focusing on pure emotion...in a sort of candid style.  We're having an art show next month, and the best 3 series go in."
Peter glanced at me trying not to grin, and I could tell we were thinking the same thing.  She wants to photograph us being intimate?
She broke in, catching the exchange we just had, "No!  Oh my god, showing two guys getting it on in class?!  I mean, no offense or anything...but no.  I'm thinking more social issues here...so anyway...I want to just follow you around for a day or two next week."
I looked at her amusedly, and so did Peter.  This could be interesting or really, really awkward...but it sounded sophisticated, and expressive.  Amy seemed to have a clear vision, and she was explaining it like a photo-art director would, from my experience.
"So, how public is this show?  I mean, I don't know about Austin, but it could be really good publicity for me."  Peter grinned sarcastically, raising his perfect brows.
I shoved him playfully with my shoulder.  Amy rolled her eyes, smirking.
"Yeah...well it's up to you guys, but I think it would be pretty cool.  I don't know any other gay guys that will let me follow them around with a camera and Austin's used to it."  She said, shrugging.
Peter shrugged, looking at me with consideration.
"Sounds like you've got it really well thought out,"  Peter said approvingly, "I'm in if Austin is."
"Yeah...I'll do it as long as it's tasteful."  I concurred.
Amy looked kind of surprised, but excited.
"Okay!  Awesome, thank you!"  She grinned.

The waiter had barely just made it to our table as Amy then mumbled quickly without looking up from her menu,
"Oh, and Austin, Eric's coming to the show with us."
I felt Peter's concern as my muscles tensed instinctively.  The waiter started talking about the daily specials.  I listened deafly, and gave him my order of food that I was no longer hungry for.  Chill out, Austin, I told myself as hot panic coursed through my stomach.
"Eric?"  I repeated as the waiter walked away, trying to be casual about it and hoping she just hadn't told me about some new boyfriend.  I didn't look at Peter for fear of him seeing the panic pushing up under the composure I was trying to keep.
"Austin--" She had that whine in her tone like she was going to berate me right here at the table.  Please, I thought, drop it...please.  Not in front of Peter.
"I just don't get it, I guess.  You guys are so strange about everything!  You haven't seen him in years...he just wants to hang out with his siblings and go see Bjork.  God, why is it always such a big deal with you two?  You never explain anything to me, and he was asking me if he could talk to you, what am I supposed to say, no?"
My head felt itchy with heat.  My voice would surely tremble if I tried to talk.  I cleared my throat, glancing around the room in the off chance that people weren't staring.
"Amy, it isn't a big deal--"  I started, trying to play it off as Peter moved his hand along my thigh in a comforting gesture, "but he can be really angry sometimes.  I don't want him staying with you, either."
Amy shot a glare at me.
"He's not.  He's staying at a hotel with his friend."  She replied, squinting irritatedly.

Peter

Lunch was great until we ordered.  We ate, conversing briefly on the show, and the food.  Amy was pretty quiet after her outburst, and Austin had picked up his sandwich once.  I could see how she might have made him feel after he'd come out to her.  It was too bad, I thought, because she was gorgeous in a rebellious way...kind of wild hair that laid like Austin's.  Wavy and naturally streaked with every color of blonde.  Her wrist was engraved with something, and her forearm bore what looked to be a Hindi inscription.
Austin got up to use the bathroom after a while, and I caught his arm.  I discreetly asked him if he was okay, and he nodded silently with a forced smile.

"Austin didn't tell you he had a half brother, did he?"  Amy said, matter-of-factly, as his blonde head turned the corner in the back of the restaurant.
I looked back at her feeling wary and a little bit unsure of her intentions.
"No, he didn't...but I didn't really ask."  I answered, focusing my attention on my food.  I glanced with concern over at Austin's bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich with one bite missing from it's otherwise pristine surface.  Amy raised her eyebrows.
"Yeah, he's like 27--oh just take it home, he'll probably eat it later," she said, shrugging and taking a drink from her glass, "He's weird about food...they probably put all sorts of shit in your head being a model...but actually, I remember my parents used to make him stay at the table for like hours because he refused to eat.  You should make him eat that."
I contemplated her words as I chewed a bite of my sandwich.  It seemed uncharacteristic of the Austin I knew...and he and I ate together every day.  Just as I was about to ask about how her mom was doing, Austin sat back down with a to-go box, casting me a look like he was ready to leave.
"I've already paid...so, we'll see you Friday, Amy."  He spoke firmly.
"Yeah..you'll still drive?"  She asked.
He nodded, putting his sandwich in the box and clasping the little styrofoam tab closed.  She watched him, frowning.
"Come at about 9, okay?"  She called after him, with no reaction.
"Nice to meet you...see you later.  Oh, call us about your project!"  I waved a little at Amy, and caught up with Austin at the door.

We walked in silence for a while as I mulled over lunch.  I hugged his waist to me from the side.  He smiled a little, and looked down.
"Sorry for making that so awkward."  He said defeatedly.
"Honey, you didn't at all.  Your sister seems really creative and motivated.  I can sense a little friction between you two at times, but I can tell you look out for each other too.  I'm concerned though...lets talk at home, okay?  I should finish up at work."
He nodded and kissed me before getting into his car.  I watched him drive towards home, and walked back to the hospital to finish my shift.

Austin was in the shower when I got in, so I changed into some old, soft scrubs and a tshirt.  I didn't understand what his relationship was with his brother, and I didn't know how to go about asking, but like Alanis says, the only way out is through.  I was determined to get whatever 'it' was out of him, and we'd work through it together.  Keeping something inside like that is a needless source of stress, and a complete waste of mental energy.

I opened the refrigerator to find his sandwich untouched still in the styrofoam box, wondering if Austin had even eaten anything that day.  I poured myself a glass of juice and put on an old Otis Redding record really low in the living room.  Our mismatched furniture sort of added to the bohemian look with the tall wainscoting on the walls, and Sam slept away in his chair, unaffected by the change in his surroundings.  I was singing along as Austin came in wearing his sweatpants and tshirt with damp hair.
"...and if youuuu would let me...hold you..."  I stretched my arms towards him as he laid with me on the couch, "oh how grateful I would be.."
"I'm glad you're home."  He said with a smile, and leaned against me.
I kissed his damp hair, and pulled back to look at him.
"Me too...what's up, you?  I asked patiently, then added, "I saw your sandwich in the fridge...are you hungry?  You know I'll make you anything you want."
"No, I'm okay...thanks Pete.  I just can't believe Eric's coming in town for the one show that's supposed to be so amazing for us.  He lives in Boston.  Why couldn't he see her there?"
"Well," I urged, "why don't you want him here?"
Austin laid his head back down against my shoulder, and he looked down.
"I just don't get along with him.  We've--" He paused, clearing his throat, and frowning, "We've never had a very brotherly relationship.  He was five when my dad left his mother and married mine.  She had custody, I guess, but he came to visit a few times a year around his birthday and Christmas. So we were always more like friends, I guess.  It's weird to think of my dad as having had another family..."
Austin hesitated, and I listened patiently as he went on.
"He'd always remind me that I'd stolen his dad when he'd come over.  I was 8, and we were playing with stupid toy cars in my room.  He was 13, and he said, suddenly, that he guessed it was better that our dad lived with my family."
My stomach felt like it was sinking as Austin spoke...he had this wounded quality to his voice that I'd never heard before.  It made me uncomfortable.  He seemed to hesitate in wanting to continue, and I remained patient.
"Austin, you can tell me anything that you want to."  I said quietly.
"Peter,"  he swallowed, looking at me with blue eyes that threatened to spill against his lashes, "You can't say any of this to anyone, okay?"
I shook my head a little, my brows furrowing with concern.
"No, of course not."  I hugged him to me a little, afraid of whatever he was preparing to say.
Austin sighed shakily, and his voice sounded tight.
"...he said it was better because our dad was happier with me.  He asked if I loved my dad.  I told him yeah, I did and then he got really angry and started throwing the cars around the room--"
I wiped the tears from Austin's cheek, with my jaw clenched.  He chewed on his lip, with a distressed expression on his face.  His tears fell faster than I could wipe them away.
"I didn't know what he meant until I was 10...he knew what was going to happen.  Eric knows what his dad--"  Austin squinted, looking pained.
I was breathless.  I hadn't expected him to be so open and I was proud of him for it, however sick the possibilities going through my head were making me feel.
"what my dad did--"  Austin's face crumpled.  He looked like he was going to throw up.  I rubbed his back a little, numbly, as my heart seemed to skip a beat at his sudden display of guilt.
"My dad raped me..when I was 10."  He hiccuped through the words, and I held him forward wordlessly as his body heaved over the carpet.  Nothing came out.  Nothing but guilt, shame, and anger.
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