Twenty Thousand Roads Chapter Eight: Turn Off The Light

Bridgeport
Container Stacks
Present Day
Ricky 

Okay, I’ll be the first to admit it.  As happy as I was for Branna, being around the lovebirds for an extended period was starting to wear on me.

Don’t get me wrong, they weren’t disgustingly demonstrative in front of me or anything like that, it was more the feeling of being invisible when you were sitting in a room with them. I felt like I could have stood up, stripped down naked and started reciting Hamlet’s soliloquy and they probably wouldn’t have even noticed.

And yes, I was a little jealous too, which sucked. I didn’t want to resent my best friend. And Ciaran was a really great guy, and he was remarkably good for her. As nauseating as it sounds, it was like he was made with her in mind, and vice versa.

So I tried to maintain some distance when they were around, which is what brought me to the cafe at Container Stacks, the comic book shop/arcade/cafe that Branna and I had haunted pretty much since it opened a year before.  I had interviewed Jasper Lochlan, the owner for the paper several months before and he had become friendly with us.

Branna was thoroughly convinced that Jasper had a crush on me, but I wasn’t sure.  He was considered a bit of a wunderkind, having started the business at the age of 22 and already having the business acumen to make it very successful.  We talked a lot about art and music, and he’d even come to see a couple of our gigs. He had mentioned to Branna at one point that he was gay, but hadn’t had the time to do much dating while he was getting the business off the ground.  She tried to get me to ask him out, but I just didn’t think I was on his radar screen that way.  We were kind of in different worlds.

I didn’t see him initially when I got into the place, but I figured he was probably busy, considering school was out and the place was full of kids causing general havoc.  I got an iced coffee from the cafe and sat down with my iPad, intending to catch up on Huffington Post.

“Fine Rick, don’t say hello.”

Jasper was standing over my table with a playful grin. Did I mention he was really attractive? Like, really attractive?

About 6’2, athletic build, sandy blond hair and light blue eyes. His hair was cut in such a way that left it a little shaggy, and a bit of it seemed to fall over his eyes, which he would occasionally move with an impatient shake of his head.  He could almost have been considered too pretty, but his general demeanor and friendliness made him seem not so untouchable.

“Sorry, man. I figured you would be busy playing headmaster of the world’s most high-tech daycare.” I quipped, gesturing around the place, which was crawling with teens and tweens of all shapes and sizes.

He shrugged. “That’s what I have a staff for. Besides as long as they spend some cash and don’t break shit, I’m alright with them being around.” He gestured towards the chair across from me. “Can I sit, or are you having special alone time?”

“No, by all means, sit.” He sat down across from me and smiled. “So, shall we talk Red Wedding?”

Jasper was a huge Game of Thrones fan, just like me and Sean. Like us, he’d read all the books multiple times and had even gone to the San Diego Comic-Con where the cast and creators were panelists. Of course, he got to write it off as a “business expense.”

“Profoundly disturbing, but really really hard to look away from. When Robb said ‘Mother..’ before Bolton drove the knife in, that was powerful.”

“Did Branna flip her shit?”

Branna, unlike us, had never read the books and had demanded that we not feed her spoilers. This made her finding out about the Red Wedding a revelation, to say the very least.

“If screeching like a banshee and calling us all fucking assholes for not warning her in spite of saying she didn’t want spoilers is flipping her shit, then yes.”

He laughed. “I love it. Sean was there too, I presume?”

“Yeah, and Ciaran, her new guy. He’s read all the books too.”

Jasper’s brow perked up, intrigued. “New guy? Do tell, Rick.”

“He’s from Ireland and he’s a teacher at the Academy. He’s actually pretty cool and they seem to be crazy about each other.”

“Is that why you’re alone here today? I mean, not that I’m complaining.”

It's getting so lonely inside this bed
Don't know if I should lick my wounds or say woe is me instead
And there's an aching inside my head
It's telling me I'm better off alone
But after midnight morning will come
And the day will see if you will get some

I felt a flush of heat shoot through me. He was happy I was alone? Had Branna been right?

Couldn’t be. He probably just wanted to have some nerd talk. “Yeah. I mean, she’s not blowing me off or anything like that, it’s just that I get tired of feeling like a third wheel when they’re at the apartment together.”

Jasper sat back in his chair, cupping his chin in his hand thoughtfully. “I have a hard time believing you don’t have guys coming on to you all the time.”

That was most decidedly not nerd talk...

“I do have some,” I admitted, “but the guys that do are usually just wanting casual sex, which is fine, but not what I’m in the market for anymore. In college it was great, now it’s just tiresome. And the ones that are wanting more end up not being my type,” I finished, picking up my iced coffee and taking a sip.

He smiled then, as if something amusing has popped into his mind. “So what IS your type, Rick?”

I almost choked on my coffee. Was he flirting with me? For the first time in ages I was struck dumb. I usually had a bit more swagger when guys flirted with me, but Jasper made me as nervous as a twelve year old meeting One Direction.

“Um...well, I don’t really think I’m all that demanding,” I finally managed to stutter out, “good sense of humor, compassion, intellect, nice ass. You know, your basics.”

Letting out a chuckle, he leaned back in his chair crossing his hands behind his head.  “That’s not too much to ask, Rick. And who knows, it might be more available to you than you think.”

Holy hell...that was a flirt. Yep.

For a second I didn’t know how to reply.  Jasper had been so off my radar as someone to potentially date I was trying to reconcile myself with the fact that this gorgeous, intelligent, warm and funny creature really WAS interested in me.

Unfortunately, any attempt to reciprocate on my part was interrupted by one of his employees popping their heads into the cafe. “Jasper, the Death Ray Megazord Hellfire game is malfunctioning again, like, big time. There may be a revolt if we don’t fix it.”

He sighed and got up from the table. “I’m sorry. I have to take care of this, Rick. But I’d like to talk more if you want.”  I stood up as well, realizing that I needed to do something before he walked away from me and I lost my nerve. “Hey, I have to go to this gallery showing tonight...would you...um, would you be interested in joining me? I mean, it’s just art stuff, but there’s an open bar, so...”

“What time does it start?” he asked me.  Butterflies started to kick up in my stomach. Gallery showings are usually a drag to anyone not in the art world so the fact that he was entertaining the notion made me think there really might be something to this.  “Um, 7:30 at the Waterman Gallery. You know where it is?”

“I do. Can I meet you there at 7:30?”

I had to will myself to keep my hands from shaking. “Yeah, yeah, absolutely. I’ll be in the foyer.”

He took a step closer to me and tilted his head, his full lips rising in a sweet smile that made my stomach flip. “I’ll see you at 7:30 then.”  His hand brushed mine as he walked away towards the arcade.

Weakly, I flopped back down in my chair and picked up my iced coffee, drinking it as fast as I could. It had suddenly gotten very hot in there...

They say that girl ya know she act too tough tough tough
Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light
They say that girl you know she act so rough rough rough
Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light
And I say follow me follow me follow me down down down down
till' you see all my dreams
Not everything in this magical world is quite what it seems

When I got home I pretty much collapsed in a mixture of excitement and sheer terror. After Branna had the privilege of doing her patented “I told you so” dance, she fixed me a gin and tonic and picked out something for me to wear. It was quite the role reversal.

Jasper walked into the gallery five minutes late. By that point I had pretty much worked myself into a nervous frenzy of pacing back and forth and contemplating raiding the open bar.  He looked around for a second and then spotted me. That gorgeous smile lit up his face and he walked over to me with the ease of a runway model.  “Hey, Rick. Sorry I’m late. Had some last minute work issues and then had to go home to change.”

The buildup of nerves spilled out in a stream of babble that I couldn’t seem to control. “That’s okay, man. Shit happens. I wasn’t thinking you’d bail or anything. If you don’t mind my saying, you look really good. Was that coming on too strong? I just thought I should be honest in saying that you look good you know, I wouldn’t want you to think that...”

He looked amused. “Rick, chill. I would never have bailed on you. And I have no problems being told I look good to you. In fact, I’ll go ahead and say the same about you.”

The nervous energy seemed to dissipate in that moment as we stood and smiled at one another for a minute. “So, show me around the place?” Jasper asked, breaking the spell a little.

I took him around the gallery, showing him some of the newer works of the artists that were being featured. People came up to me a lot, doing the usual artist schmooze that I’ve always found so incredibly insincere, the air kissing and sucking up.  Still, I had to play into it at least somewhat to continue to get work. Jasper was patient with it all though.

“I’m really sorry about all that...” I said as we walked across the polished stone floors.

He shrugged. “Nothing to be sorry for, Rick. No matter what the line of work, there’s always asses waiting to be kissed. You do what you have to. Besides, you do other stuff that seems to keep you grounded.”

“I’m glad you think so. Branna would kill me if I ever got pretentious.” We reached a painting and stood in front of it. “This is actually one of mine. I did it about three years ago. I wasn’t even going to show it to them, but I put it in my portfolio at the last minute and they asked to show it.”

Jasper studied it. “I really like it, actually. I mean, I don’t know much about actual composition and all that, but the colors work well together. At least, to my unsophisticated eye. Is it for sale?”

“It was, but apparently someone bought it this afternoon. They didn’t tell me who.”

At that moment something caught Jasper’s eye and he shook his head like he was trying to clear it out. “Is that what I think it is?”

What it was was a urinal, mounted proudly on the gallery wall. It was the gallery owner’s homage to being “edgy.”  What it did was make most of us roll our eyes in derision, as Jasper was doing right at that moment. “Rick, how the hell is this considered art? A urinal? Really? I mean, I consider myself as open-minded as they come but I really don’t think a place where you piss is meant to be revered as art. Hell, it’s not like it’s even decorated or anything! Put a damn wreath on it if you’re gonna call it art.”

“Honestly, I couldn’t agree more,” I told him. “I’ve seen art done in a lot of different mediums, but stuff like this always makes me shake my head. I mean, there’s the avant-garde and then there’s just the fucking ridiculous.” 

We went over to the window area and looked down at the people milling about, drinking and doing the schmooze.  “So, how do you deal with that kind of thing?” Jasper asked. “Like, you’re a truly talented artist. How do you feel when shit like that is put up alongside stuff that you put a lot of work into and considered art by some?”

I shook my head and looked down at the gallery owner air-kissing some D-List reality star. “My advisor in college told me something about the art gallery world that I always kept with me. He said, ‘They’re merchants and speculators at best, parasites and whoremongers at worst. Never let them be the final judge.’ I try to keep that in mind when this scene gets overly pretentious, lest I start glue-gunning fringe to old Roman vomitoriums.”  He laughed at that, a real laugh, not a phony giggle.  He was so gorgeous.

“Anyway,” he said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, “You want to get out of here? We can go back to my place and have a drink if you want.” I must have looked surprised, because he quickly added, “No expectations, honest. I just have a really nice balcony area and it’s a nice night out, so...”

I beat back the butterflies yet again. “Sounds good. Lead the way.”

I looked above the other day
Cuz I think I'm good and ready for a change
I live my life by the moon
If it's high play it low, if it's harvest go slow and if it's full, then go
But after midnight morning will come
And the day will see if you're gonna get some

His apartment was in a high rise similar to the one I lived in, the only difference being the gigantic balcony he had, complete with bar, fire pit, and lounge chairs. It was pretty swank. I guessed the business was being good to him.

“Sorry that gin and tonic is all I can offer. I don’t keep much liquor around.” He handed me a glass and took one of his own.

“Not a big drinker?”

“Not particularly. One of my dads has a pretty bad drug and alcohol problem so anything outside of the occasional social drink doesn’t appeal to me.”

You know that sound that they play on sitcoms, the sound of the needle scraping across the record? I heard that sound in my head.

“Wait, you have two fathers?” He nodded matter-of-factly. “Uh huh. Well, technically Dusty is my biological father, but yeah.”

I was more than a little intrigued. “So, how did you...you know...”

“Come into being?”

“Well I was thinking of a polite way to say it...”
 

He took a sip of his drink. “The wonders of science. Donor eggs, a mixture of both dads...material, my Aunt Regan was the surrogate, and the three of us resulted.”

I nearly choked on the drink I was taking. “THREE of you?” Another nod. “Yep. Multiples aren’t uncommon in these scenarios, so I’m a triplet. I have a sister named Lyla and a brother named Simon.  I have three other siblings in addition to them.”  “You must have kept your dads busy then.” A rueful chuckle. “We were pretty much raised exclusively by Dusty and my Aunt Regan. She lives in Bridgeport now. It's part of why I moved here. And like I said, Desmond has a lot of issues, so my dad kept him away from us when we were younger. By the time he was back living with Dusty full time, we didn’t really identify with him as a father anyway. Wanna sit down?” He gestured towards a set of loungers, so we took our drinks and sat, looking out at the sky. It was a beautiful midnight blue, interspersed with streaks of purple.

We watched the sky for a while, and then Jasper spoke again. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Desi, I really do. Even though he wasn’t a father in the traditional sense, we became closer to him the older we got.  I think once we stopped being demanding little kids, he could relate to us better.  And he loves my dad.”

“It sounds like he’s put Dusty through a lot,” I said a bit hesitantly. “Oh no doubt. He still does sometimes. But...I don’t know. In spite of all of that, they’re made for each other.  Both of them say a lot that they don’t know how they could live without the other. So...I really can’t judge. For the most part, he does make my dad happy."

“So it was probably easy to come out in your household, huh?” I inquired. “It was, but they warned me I’d probably catch a lot of shit from closed-minded people. But yeah, they were very supportive.”  I bit my lip and looked away. I didn’t resent him for having had it easier, but I won’t deny that it brought back a shot of bad memories, that night in my parents’ house, my dad’s booming voice punting me out, my mother standing by while he did it, trying to explain to Tasha...

Jasper reached over and put his hand on mine. “Rick, are you okay?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. I shook my head a little and took another drink. “Yeah, I’m okay. Suffice it to say my experience wasn’t as supportive as yours. When I came out at sixteen, my father kicked me out and my mother stood by and cried, but didn’t help me.  If Branna’s family hadn’t taken me in, I don’t really know what I would have done.”  He squeezed my hand tightly. “Jesus Rick, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, man. But yeah, its why Branna and I are so close. I mean we’ve basically lived as a non-sexual husband and wife for the past decade. And really, she and her family are why I could accept myself. And I know I’m not the only gay man who’s had to deal with their family rejecting them.”

“Let’s move over there, we can see the stars better that way. I need to brush up on my constellation spotting,” he said, obviously looking to change the subject. I couldn’t blame him.

We settled on the ground and leaned back. The sky was studded with a blanket of stars, but I was damned if I could make out any kind of specific pattern. “Jas, are you spotting any of your constellations?”  He bit back a laugh. “I can’t see a goddamned one. But still, it’s pretty awesome to look at, huh?”

“That it is.” His hand slid effortlessly over mine again. “Do you ever talk to them?” he asked.

So much for changing the subject.

“My mother and sister, yes. But I haven’t spoken to my father since the night he threw me out. If he can’t accept me for what I am, I don’t have any use for him.” He stroked the top of my hand with his thumb, making the hair on my arms stand up. “That sounds really final.” I shrugged.
 
“Not like he’s given me much choice in the matter.  When his mother died she left almost all her money to my sister and I. Apparently he was so livid he started making noise about contesting her will until my mother threatened to divorce him. He doesn’t want to make amends, he just wants to be the one pulling the strings.” I spoke with what I hoped was a tone of finality. I wanted to enjoy my time with him, not have to explain my lack of relationship with my father.

I'm searching for things that I just cannot see
Why don't you don't you don't you come and be with me
I pretend to be cool with me, want to believe
That I can do it on my own without my heart on my sleeve
I'm running, I'm running, catch up with me life
Where is the love that I'm looking to find
It's all in me, can't you see, why can't you, why can't you see it's all in me

 

Thankfully, he took the hint.

“So,” he said, playfully nudging my side, “How come it took you so long to ask me out, Rick?”

I raised my eyebrows at him in surprise. “I didn’t even know you were interested!"

“Oh come on, I did everything but sit on your lap every time you guys came into the place! Branna knew I was into you. Didn’t she tell you?”

“Well, yeah...”

“And you didn’t believe her?”

“It just...didn’t occur to me. I’ve never met any of the guys I dated at a place like yours.”

“I’m sorry my arcade isn’t more of a gay cruising spot, Rick. Should I add on a glory hole room?” he asked, a look of mock seriousness on his face.

I slapped his shoulder. “Fuck off.”

His light blue eyes locked onto mine then, and there was a certain intensity to his gaze that made my stomach turn a particularly spirited flip. He bit his lip, which only lent to how sexy he looked at that moment.  “I think there’s something else I’d rather do,” he said softly.

He leaned back so I was holding him, cradling his head in my hand.  “This is the point in time where you kiss me, Rick.”

A bit shakily, I leaned down and gently touched my lips to his.  The kiss started soft, but gradually we opened our mouths to take in each others tongues and my grip on his head tightened a little. The heat flushed through my body again, heightening all my senses even more than they normally were.

Our tongues danced and dueled for ages until we both had to stop for air. “Damn, Rick,” he whispered, “Do you...”

I quieted him with a finger over his lips. “Yeah, I feel it too.”

It felt natural, real. It felt like...home.

Where is your logic
Who do you need
Where can you turn in your delicate time of need
Follow me down, follow me down down down,
I do not need I do not need nobody
Where is your logic
Who do you need
Where can you turn in your delicate time of need

Song: "Turn Off The Light" by Nelly Furtado

Kudos to the glorious Miranda for the use of the gorgeous Jasper Lochlan! 

And thank you to everyone for being so patient with me. The start of summer brought a bunch of problems with constant sinus headaches that were making life pretty miserable. I've hit on some good meds and it seems under control now, so expect timely updates from now on!