Every Story Has Two Sides

By: Priya Lalita.

Drake Parker fidgeted at the altar, trying to hide his nervousness. The title of Best Man felt like such a giant responsibility. Really, he was flattered but this really wasn't his deal. But, how do you turn down your best friend for something that momentous? There were others he could have asked, but no. It was his duty. He fought the urge to fiddle with his bowtie. This monkey-suit was intolerable, and he really needed a cigarette. He focused on his good friends, gazing lovingly at each other, that secret smile that lovers share lingering on their lips. He swallowed hard, feeling more uncomfortable than ever. What he wouldn't give to feel that way. What he wouldn't give to be in their shoes, or almost.

More precisely, what he wouldn't give to be standing there, staring into the eyes of the woman of his dreams, sharing their own secret smiles, his family standing by. His mother would cry, his father would be beaming with pride, his brothers would tease him about being last but not least and about his wedding night. Her parents would love him; her father would shake his hand as he handed her over at the altar. His bride would get a little teary, but be smiling as wide as could be. There would be birdseed thrown, not rice, because rice was cruel to the poor birds that tried to eat it. (No, there would be no exploding pigeons or sparrows on his wedding day.) There would be tin-cans and graffiti (care of his brothers and his friends) on their limo. The reception would be casual, yet fancy. Upscale DIY. Everything would be perfect. Their wedding night and honeymoon would be magical, all leading up to a house in the suburbs, a few wonderful kids, and maybe a dog. He was torn between a Border Collie and a Labrador.

He heard the priest announce the kiss and snapped out of his daydream to see the two lock lips. He grinned to himself, Ryo, what the blushing bride. And slowly as he watched them, he knew that his own little fantasy would never happen. He scanned the pews for a specific face in a sea of familiar people. Even from under the lights he could see blue eyes and platinum blonde hair shining from the back row. His heart beat a little faster as he smiled softly at his partner. Those eagle eyes never miss a thing, he thought, getting a smile in return, watching those full lips mouth the words nice suit. He smirked and followed the photographer's instructions, getting shoved into some group photo.

He groaned internally and smiled out of obligation. He plastered a convincing yet fake smile on his mouth as he thought about his future. That storybook life, that American Dream felt like it would never be his. His past six relationships, in the past year, had been so hollow and phony. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't connect with any of his (now former) girlfriends. Alison, an elementary school teacher couldn't handle his occupation, Diane, a lawyer, was too involved with her occupation, Jennie was too optimistic and bubbly, Liz didn't like his friends, Helena had awful taste in music, and Bernadette was just psychotic.

Nothing felt right with any of them, even sex. He'd never expected sex to become routine and damn near uninteresting. More than once he'd have preferred to have been elsewhere. (The thought chilled him.) Nothing was the way it should be anymore. Nothing felt like it fit. He wondered if thirty-six was old enough to have a midlife crisis. He supposed that if you were still single like him, it was never too early to have one. He wished he weren't perpetually broke-- a shiny convertible just might cure 

him. (It didn't even have to be a BMW, he'd settle for a Ford, or a Mazda, or even a Toyota, as long as it was red.)

But no, he was Drake Parker: thirty-six going on thirty-seven, perpetually single, perpetually broke, and perpetually unlucky, with a piece-of-shit car.

Drake felt like a zombie, trudging through the reception on auto-pilot, smiling on cue, toasting and cheering for the happy couple. It was torture. He'd rather have a root canal without anesthetic. And to make it worse, every time he got near JJ, someone or thing, called him away. All he wanted was five fucking minutes with him. Five minutes to absorb some of that glowing aura, to leech some of that brilliant positivity, to have that sunny smile chase away just a little of his doom and gloom. But, no. Not for him. He settled for a cigarette, eventually, while everyone ate, slipping out the side door. He just needed a break. Some fresh air.

Unfortunately, summers in New York brought anything but fresh air. It was muggy and hot down at the gazebo, but he didn't care. He slipped a Newport from the pack nestled in his jacket pocket and held it between his lips a moment before lighting it, relaxing with the slight tingle of the menthol on his lips. He turned the silver Zippo over in his palm, rubbing his thumb over the etching of a nautical star. JJ had given him the lighter for Christmas last year, with a caveat that it wasn't a sign of his approval of his smoking, just that he should do it in style. Somehow he'd managed to hang onto it all this time, finding it strange since he couldn't hang onto a Bic for more than a few days. It just felt like such a precious item to him, a treasure at the bottom of his pocket. Of course, it could have been the fact that it was JJ who gave it to him.

He was deathly afraid of the timeline of his disinterest in all of his former girlfriends. Ever since it happened, ever since the kiss on the rooftop… It was such a simple thing: a sealing of a deal, a period at the end of a sentence. That's all it was. It was to usher in a new way of doing things. Wait, no. That wasn't right. It was…a sign of independence. That they didn't need anyone else to make them happy. No. Goddamnit, why had they kissed again? Sadly to Drake, what happened before and after was entirely forgotten, not quite caring about the circumstances. It wasn't supposed to mean anything. It didn't, still. But, Drake couldn't help but admit that more than once, when he was with one of his exes, he would have greatly preferred to have been on the couch watching TV with JJ, or out at a bar with him, or… the list went on. He'd become entirely dependent on his partner. In fact, JJ was probably the one thing in his life that he could rely on to not fuck him over, or make him miserable.

He would have loved nothing more than to love JJ, but he couldn't. No. That wasn't part of the plan. That threw a cog in that fantasy, his ultimate goal. His mother would cry (and not the happy kind), his father would swear up and down that he had no son by the name of Drake, the majority of his brothers would be repulsed. JJ's sister would be the only one who flew in (JJ had never been close with 

his mother or step-father and there would be no tears from either of them,) and he was sure that it would be a pitiful affair.

A cold, wet bottle on the back of his neck jerked him out of his thoughts and he lurched forward, dropping his cigarette.

"Fuck!" He hissed, whirling around, rubbing the back of his neck vigorously. All annoyance faded as he focused on the source of his troubles, laughing sweetly.

"Sorry," JJ said, holding the beer out to him as a peace offering.

Drake smiled after a second and took it, twisting off the cap.

"Cheers." He said with ironic cheerlessness, sitting back down as JJ took a sip of his own.

JJ straddled the bench and placed his beer in the space between them, hands resting on his thighs. Drake sighed and shook another cigarette out of the pack, slowly dragging his thumb over the wheel of flint, watching the Zippo produce its flame. The lungful of smoke calmed him slightly, calmed further now that JJ was here. He placed the pack by JJ's beer and watched the skinny blonde sitting there, in the remnants of a Versace suit, down to a white dress shirt, with his sleeves rolled up and black fitted slacks and Ferragamo oxfords. JJ reached out and took the pack, pulling out one for himself. He flicked the flint again and lit it for him, listening to the cap of the metal lighter clink as it closed.

"Hypocrite."

"It's been a long day." He said, smiling as he slowly puffed. "It's been a long year."

"Tell me about it." He laughed humorlessly.

"This is kind of weird, you know…Everyone's starting to settle down. Berkley and Diana are engaged, Dee and Ryo…"
"Ted's still single."
"Do you really ever see Ted settling down? I see him hopping from one hot piece of ass to the other till he dies."
"Maybe. I guess you're right. I can only see him settling down if he got some girl knocked up."
"True, true." JJ exhaled a breath of smoke, watching it drift across the lake.

"What a fucking year."
"Yep. It's been a trip. Mmm, you found some sure winners this year…Bernadette, she was totally mental, and Diane who would literally schedule your sex life." He smirked as Drake snorted, sipping on his beer.

"Well what about Kevin? Who wanted you to suck him off on the first date? Or Reggie who invited you over for dinner with his wife?"
JJ groaned and shook his head. "Seriously. What is wrong with people today?"
"I don't know…What if it's us?" He squirmed in his seat and took another sip of his beer. JJ let out a little sigh and Drake felt him tug at his jacket.



"You know you can relax after the church, you know." He said, as Drake allowed him to assist in getting his suit jacket off, dropping the spent cigarette and crushing it under his shoe. "No wonder you look so miserable, it's hot as hell out here and you're still in your monkey suit."He mused, cigarette pinched in the corner of his lips. He let JJ unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves and roll them up before getting up and undoing his bowtie. It felt good to be fussed over, he decided, as JJ tucked his untied bowtie in the jacket pocket, after flicking away the butt.

"There." He said, as Drake leaned forward and rested his cheek against JJ's stomach.

"Is today over yet?"
"No." He said, taking this tender moment to fix his slicked back hair.

Drake sighed gently as those slender hands moved to his shoulders, kneading gently. Why? Why couldn't this be right? Why couldn't he just spend all his time with JJ, and live happily ever after? Drake had never been the one to take the easy way out, but the path ahead looked far too daunting. The fear of losing his family, along with his chance at creating one was far too much to bear. But he ached for his touch. Was it really too much to ask that your gay best friend get a little frisky with you? For those hands to innocently slip underneath the collar of his shirt, down his shoulders to his chest, for him to lean in to get a better angle—He snapped out of it quickly and pulled away, trying to not look too uncomfortable. Daydreaming was dangerous, especially when they were hidden away in the gazebo, the air hot and thick with the scent of jasmine from the gardens, mingling with hints of JJ's cologne. He swallowed the lump in his throat and felt JJ sit beside him again. He leaned against him a little to let him know it was okay and sighed. Love was supposed to be happy, not a disaster. Love was supposed to bring people together, not tear them apart.

"Are you okay?" JJ asked quietly, as Drake shook his head.

"No."
"What can I do to help you?" He asked, those gorgeous, huge blue eyes searching his face.

He laughed quietly, shaking his head. Go back in time and give yourself another X chromosome, He thought, as he shook his head again.

"Nothing." He said as JJ rested his head against his.

"Are you bummed out because of being single?" He asked as Drake sighed. Even if it weren't obvious, JJ knew him too well.

"I give up. For real this time."
"Fine. Then it's you and me, then. Two against the world." He said simply as Drake snorted.

"Did you steal that from Grindhouse?" He teased, remembering their latest movie night.

"So, they stole it first. They did not invent the phrase." He retorted smartly, with a smile.

God, how he'd love to have it just be them against the world. Just pick up everything, and start fresh. Start new. Find a place where love wasn't a catalyst for war. He supposed he could always focus on 

the good things. JJ would most undoubtedly get misty during the ceremony, but have the sunniest of smiles on his face. And he supposed that they could live without the tin-cans and decorations on the limo if no one thought to do it. And he had no doubt that the reception would be fine, and he could just imagine their wedding night and honeymoon. He supposed they could forgo the house in the suburbs and just move into a larger apartment. In lieu of the big house, he guessed that a small dog would be fine, and adoption was a dim hope.
And JJ would most certainly agree to bird-seed instead of rice, JJ would never stand for exploding birds on their wedding day, or, ever in fact.

He swallowed the lump in the back of his throat and took a deep breath. He turned his head, until he was looking into JJ's eyes, then staring at those parted lips. Waiting. His pulse raced as he fought the gravitation-like pull he felt towards him. Soft voices, engaged in their own conversation snapped him out of his haze. He pulled away and stood, clearing his throat.

"We should get back." He said simply, grabbing the suit jacket. JJ nodded, hiding his distress well, but not well enough from Drake.

Regardless, Drake knew he couldn't drag JJ down with him in his suffering. He wouldn't put him through the hatred his family would show them. He wouldn't do anything to hurt him. Less people would be upset this way. It was for the best, he told himself. He wouldn't shame his family. He couldn't.

He watched JJ stand, forcing a small smile.

"I'm sorry." He said as JJ looked a bit puzzled.

"Why?"
He shrugged, unable to say it. The moment hung in the air like a blinking cursor in word processor. Everything had stopped, except for the warm breeze and the crickets. He turned away and started towards the resort, his jacket thrown over his arm with JJ following quietly. As he approached the lit patio he paused.

"I'm going to throw this in the room." He gestured for JJ to follow and headed in and up the stairs, managing to keep out of sight. He pulled the cardkey out of his pants pocket and slid it through the lock on the door, inviting JJ in.

The quiet was deafening as they stepped inside. Drake threw his tuxedo jacket on the bed and sighed. JJ stood in the middle of the room, waiting while Drake stepped into the small bathroom. He bent over the sink, letting the cool water run before splashing some on his face. The cold felt good and he could feel droplets snaking down his neck and chest. He looked into the mirror and watched JJ over his shoulder, staring at the carpet. He gripped the porcelain of the sink and hung his head again. Fighting temptation was the hardest part of all this. He took a deep breath and stood tall, grabbing a hand towel on the way out to dry his face.

"Ready?" JJ asked with a soft smile as he stood before him, dabbing his face with the white terrycloth. He froze, finding himself drowning in those deep blue eyes again, his pulse beating frantically as if he were a small animal stuck in a trap. Just one kiss, one kiss and they'd be even. He leaned in, his hand 

cupping JJ's cheek and kissed him softly on the lips. He'd fully intended on a hasty retreat, but instead wrapped his other arm around JJ's waist pulling him against his chest. He could feel JJ's hands pinned between them gripping his shirt as he deepened the kiss. A quiet gasp came from his partner as Drake pushed him onto the bed, straddling his thighs. He tried to stop himself, eventually managing to tear himself away.

"Fuck!" He shouted, rushing off the bed like it was on fire. He panted and cursed, moving to the opposite side of the room. He couldn't bear to look at JJ, who wasn't trying to hide his hurt at all this time, a look of panic on his face.

"I'm sorry." JJ choked out, getting up as Drake shook his head vehemently.

"Don't touch me, please." He begged, as JJ stopped before him, biting on his lower lip. "Please. Fuck. Why?" He let his head tilt back and hit the wall, finally looking at his partner. "Why do you feel so good?" He asked as JJ's lips parted slightly, his hand hovering, hesitating before he touched his hand.

"I can't answer that for you." He said, honestly, as Drake pulled away and sat on the bed, holding his head in his hands, tugging at his hair.

"Why? I'm trying so damn hard—" He let out a frustrated sigh. "I just want…All I've ever wanted was a normal life. I wanted to get married, make everyone happy, I wanted everything to be perfect."
"Since when is marriage perfect?" JJ asked, as Drake stared at him.

"It would have been."
"You can think that if you want, but every relationship has its issues. Dee and Ryo took how long to get here? You think it's going to be a storybook tale for them? Marriage is a commitment of loving someone no matter what happens. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part." He said, reciting the token wedding vows. He reached out and smoothed Drake's hair and covered his hand with his own. "Drake, I'm not trying to tell you what's right and wrong, but, chances are if it makes you happy, it's a good thing."
"We would tear my family apart." Drake whispered, leaning into his touch instinctively.

"They'd live." He smiled and wrapped his arms around Drake's shoulders.

"My parents already hate you, we both know that."
"They're just worried about you. They care about you. My parents couldn't care less, so consider yourself lucky." He made Drake look at him and smiled. "I promise I'm not pressuring you, whatever you decide is fine with me. You know I care about you more than anything, you're my best friend, my partner…you mean everything to me, and you know the last thing I want to do is cause trouble for you." He gave Drake a teeny Eskimo kiss, laughing gently.

Drake took a deep breath after a few minutes of silence and contemplation, and pushed JJ back on the bed, hovering over him with a slow smile.



"Fuck it." He said, kissing him again. "I just don't fucking care." He added, breaking away for air. "I'm just not going to be happy if I'm not with you." JJ beamed up at him and wrapped his arms around his neck.

Drake felt all his tension melt away, replaced by jittery excitement as they kissed, allowing himself to explore JJ the way he'd only fantasized about before. A low groan escaped him as JJ's teeth worked at the button of his fly. He tugged roughly on a beltloop of JJ's suit pants, getting a cry of protest.

"Hey! Watch it, unless you're buying me a new pair." He huffed, hopping off the bed, inspecting his pants for damage.

"Well, mine's a rental." Drake retorted, propping himself up on his elbows as JJ rolled his eyes, slipping off his shoes.

"Well, mine's Versace!" He shot back as Drake slowly laughed, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face.

"God, I love you." He said as JJ grinned, slowly undoing his belt as Drake took the hint, shimmying out of what was left of his tux, kicking off his shoes.

"I love you too." He purred, letting the pants drop before crawling back onto the bed.

Drake nestled his face in JJ's neck, basking in the afterglow, letting his hands wander to explore the heat of his lover's body. They both froze at the sound of a knock on the door.

"Drake! You in there?! Dude, what the fuck!"

"Ted." He groaned as JJ hopped out of bed, collecting clothing as he went. Drake got himself halfway decent and JJ ducked into the bathroom. They could both agree that now was probably not the best time to let everyone know.

"What?" He huffed, answering the door, as Ted grinned.

"Dude! Where have you--whoa, look at that hickey!" He exclaimed as Drake clapped a hand over his neck, feeling his face grow hot with embarrassment.

"What?"

"Well, I was gonna ask where you disappeared to, but…who was it? Damn, was it that brunette? The bridesmaid? She was fucking hot."
"No. Someone from traffic. Nancy?" He shrugged, picking a name at random.



"Isn't Nancy married, Drake you homewrecker—"

"Not Nancy. Uh, Dana. Sorry."
"Well, they need you for something…another toast or something. I forget."

"Alright, coming." He said, shutting the door, stopping as Ted's foot pried in.

"She still in there? I don't remember a Dana. Is she hot?"

"Ted." He said in warning as Ted put up his hands innocently, and removed his foot.

He shut the door and leaned back against it and watched JJ emerge from the bathroom fully dressed.

"That was smooth." JJ said, grinning as Drake frowned.

"I'm a bad liar, okay?" He headed back to the bed and redressed himself sullenly. "And why do they need me to do all the toasting?"

"Because you're the Best Man, and you are a fantastic Best Man."
"But I don't wanna go." He sighed, as JJ laughed.

"You have to." He said as Drake grumbled. He reached out and smoothed Drake's hair, feeling Drake's arms wrap around his waist. "There's only an hour or so left, anyway." He received a petulant grunt in reply. "What do you say if I stay the night? Will that cheer you up?"
Drake looked up at him and grinned.

Drake poked his head out of the room and scanned the hallway, deciding the coast was clear and opened the door all the way. The second they stepped out Ted rounded the corner.

"Oh, by the way—Holy shit." He stopped and stared at the two of them. "Where's Dana?" He asked, looking around as the two looked at each other and laughed.

Ted had a helplessly confused and traumatized look on his face for a moment, then smiled. "So…no chick in there…?" He asked as JJ laughed louder.

Drake swung his arm around JJ's shoulders and lead them past Ted, who was smiling, giving him an affectionate shove.

"It's about time, you know." He said as they passed. "But, seriously? Is there a Dana in traffic? Hot? Not? Come on! Point me in the right direction, someone here has to procreate!" He exclaimed, following them down the hall.



-Fin-

So, I got inspired again. This is a bit more how I expected it to turn out. Or at least til I got to the part where I got "stuck". (Guess where…it's a direct simile to writer's block lol) And again I went for the happy, but not before laying the angst on thick. I'm considering a third part. Don't hold your breath, but, it's a maybe ;)

So, Playlist?
Death Cab For Cutie- Steadier Footing (as mentioned before).

The Smiths- The Queen is Dead and Strange Days Here We Come

Morrissey- Viva Hate, Bona Drag, Kill Uncle, and Your Arsenal.

(can anyone see a trend?)

And last but not least?

Okkervil River- Black Sheep Boy, The Stage Names, The Stand Ins. (The Stand Ins is being previewed on myspace right now…and It really makes me wish I weren't Broke because, dear god, I want that cd and the posters…) (Specific songs: The Latest Toughs, and, Blue Tulip.)

Best wishes to you all,

xo

PriyaLalita