Fulton's POV.
Why is it every time I'm too fed up with Portman to stand the sight of him anymore, a member of the other gay Ducks couple has to get himself hospitalized? I was almost certain they were doing it on purpose, maybe Dean was paying them or something, like they were toying with me. First Banks slices hi wrist, then Charlie cracks up his car. Call me paranoid if you want, but I swear it was a conspiracy.
"I'm being punished aren't I?" I asked looking up at my ceiling as I laid in bed that night.
Unfortunately I said it loud enough for the nosy sack of muscle on the couch to hear, because I heard.
"What would you be punished for?" Come from the living room.
I was half tempted to say 'Dating you' but I didn't. Just because the relationship was pretty much dead in the water didn't mean I had to be rude to him.
"Nothing Portman, just go to sleep." I hollered back and sunk deeper into my pillow.
When I got out of the next morning I could hear the sound of water running in my bathroom and knew Portman was already awake. I pushed past him as he stood at the sink shaving the twenty-four hour stubble off his chin and made my way to the toilet. I lifted the lid and paused for a minute looking at him.
"Could I get some privacy here?"
He looked at me puzzled.
"What you can't take a leak in front of me anymore?"
"I'd rather not, no."
"Come on Fulton it's not like you've got something I haven't seen. I know your body better then I know my own. Like the scar on your stomach from when you had your appendix removed, the birthmark on your lower back that's shaped like Massachusetts and the tattoo on your upper thigh you got in memory of your little cousin that died. I've seen it all, even stuff no one else has."
"The fact the you studied my nakedness that intently is in fact mildly creepy, Portman.' I declared.
He just shrugged and slid open the glass door to the shower.
"Call it whatever you want dude. But I gotta take a shower, so you can piss now or wait till I'm done."
"You have to make everything fucking difficult."
"Yeah, I know, it's tragic." Dean smiled and closed the door around him, the hot from the water instantly starting to fog the room like a tropical paradise.
I shook my head and went to the bathroom, then wondered over to the sink for my turn. My face was pretty smooth but I gave it a quick run over with the razor, then started brushing my teeth. The medicine cabinet mirror was casting reflections of the shower, once more it was casting blurred reflection of the person in the shower. The fuzzy image of Portman rubbing the soap across his toned chest was to say the least, tantalizing. I was actually fighting the yearning to yank open the shower and proceed with a rousing round of makeup sex. The only obstacle being that I didn't want to makeup. I'll take an order of makeup sex hold the makeup please.
Anyway, I digress. After brushing my hair and teeth and I went to room to get dressed. As I pulled my Black Sabbath tee-shirt over my head, I heard the phone ring. Portman answered it before I could and I walked out into the other room to see who was on the line. I was sort of given the clue it was Banksie from the way my fellow Bash Brother was talking.
"What do you mean you're not going? That's pretty low, even with all the fuck ups he's made you guys have been friends forever. A balloon, you want us to give him a balloon instead… Yeah that'll really make up for not having you there I'm sure. I know I know, alright rich boy we'll see you later then."
"Banks?" I inquired after Dean had hung up.
"Yeah, he's not coming to the hospital today, he said it'll be to easy for him to take Charlie back if he sees him in pain."
I nodded and rolled my tongue around inside my mouth, in a nervous mannerism. Not because of the situation between Charlie and Banks, but because of the situation between me and Dean. I don't know how you love and hate the same person with all your heart. Some how I managed to do it. I both cherished and despised the guy that stood in front me with his broad shoulders lumped and strong hands jammed in his pockets.
I looked at Portman, dressed in a great fitting pair of black jeans and a dark blue tank top, with a white cotton button down shirt over it, the bandana I bought him last Christmas wrapped around his hair and I saw the unbelievably hot college freshmen I'd been dating weeks ago. Seeing the concerned look he had in his eyes for not only Charlie but Adam as well, even though he was trying to hide it, made me think back to the day at the JR. Good Will Games, when Luis had crashed into me during practice and I'd slid hard into one of the boards. The worried expression I'd seen on his face that day, when I opened my eyes to see him hovering over me, had been the one that made me fall in love with him to begin with.
Then I saw another side of him, the side that lied to me, hid things from me and was living to far away from me for to completely trust. Trust is something you earn, and when it's lost you have to earn it back. He hadn't, I tried to convince myself those weeks after Banks cut himself, that he had. But no steps had been made, no old wounds healed, some had even grown deeper. There were so many different voices in my head screaming things, I didn't know which to listen to. Yet the one saying to call quits was the loudest, so that one, won out in the end.
"Hey Fult, you in there?" Portman snapped his fingers in front of me.
"Huh?" I shook my head, not realizing I'd been so lost in thought.
"I asked if you were ready to get to the hospital and you totally ignored me."
"Oh, sorry, yeah I'm ready, let's hit the road." As we left my apartment that day, as rude as it sounds, the last thing on my mind was Charlie.
Why is it every time I'm too fed up with Portman to stand the sight of him anymore, a member of the other gay Ducks couple has to get himself hospitalized? I was almost certain they were doing it on purpose, maybe Dean was paying them or something, like they were toying with me. First Banks slices hi wrist, then Charlie cracks up his car. Call me paranoid if you want, but I swear it was a conspiracy.
"I'm being punished aren't I?" I asked looking up at my ceiling as I laid in bed that night.
Unfortunately I said it loud enough for the nosy sack of muscle on the couch to hear, because I heard.
"What would you be punished for?" Come from the living room.
I was half tempted to say 'Dating you' but I didn't. Just because the relationship was pretty much dead in the water didn't mean I had to be rude to him.
"Nothing Portman, just go to sleep." I hollered back and sunk deeper into my pillow.
When I got out of the next morning I could hear the sound of water running in my bathroom and knew Portman was already awake. I pushed past him as he stood at the sink shaving the twenty-four hour stubble off his chin and made my way to the toilet. I lifted the lid and paused for a minute looking at him.
"Could I get some privacy here?"
He looked at me puzzled.
"What you can't take a leak in front of me anymore?"
"I'd rather not, no."
"Come on Fulton it's not like you've got something I haven't seen. I know your body better then I know my own. Like the scar on your stomach from when you had your appendix removed, the birthmark on your lower back that's shaped like Massachusetts and the tattoo on your upper thigh you got in memory of your little cousin that died. I've seen it all, even stuff no one else has."
"The fact the you studied my nakedness that intently is in fact mildly creepy, Portman.' I declared.
He just shrugged and slid open the glass door to the shower.
"Call it whatever you want dude. But I gotta take a shower, so you can piss now or wait till I'm done."
"You have to make everything fucking difficult."
"Yeah, I know, it's tragic." Dean smiled and closed the door around him, the hot from the water instantly starting to fog the room like a tropical paradise.
I shook my head and went to the bathroom, then wondered over to the sink for my turn. My face was pretty smooth but I gave it a quick run over with the razor, then started brushing my teeth. The medicine cabinet mirror was casting reflections of the shower, once more it was casting blurred reflection of the person in the shower. The fuzzy image of Portman rubbing the soap across his toned chest was to say the least, tantalizing. I was actually fighting the yearning to yank open the shower and proceed with a rousing round of makeup sex. The only obstacle being that I didn't want to makeup. I'll take an order of makeup sex hold the makeup please.
Anyway, I digress. After brushing my hair and teeth and I went to room to get dressed. As I pulled my Black Sabbath tee-shirt over my head, I heard the phone ring. Portman answered it before I could and I walked out into the other room to see who was on the line. I was sort of given the clue it was Banksie from the way my fellow Bash Brother was talking.
"What do you mean you're not going? That's pretty low, even with all the fuck ups he's made you guys have been friends forever. A balloon, you want us to give him a balloon instead… Yeah that'll really make up for not having you there I'm sure. I know I know, alright rich boy we'll see you later then."
"Banks?" I inquired after Dean had hung up.
"Yeah, he's not coming to the hospital today, he said it'll be to easy for him to take Charlie back if he sees him in pain."
I nodded and rolled my tongue around inside my mouth, in a nervous mannerism. Not because of the situation between Charlie and Banks, but because of the situation between me and Dean. I don't know how you love and hate the same person with all your heart. Some how I managed to do it. I both cherished and despised the guy that stood in front me with his broad shoulders lumped and strong hands jammed in his pockets.
I looked at Portman, dressed in a great fitting pair of black jeans and a dark blue tank top, with a white cotton button down shirt over it, the bandana I bought him last Christmas wrapped around his hair and I saw the unbelievably hot college freshmen I'd been dating weeks ago. Seeing the concerned look he had in his eyes for not only Charlie but Adam as well, even though he was trying to hide it, made me think back to the day at the JR. Good Will Games, when Luis had crashed into me during practice and I'd slid hard into one of the boards. The worried expression I'd seen on his face that day, when I opened my eyes to see him hovering over me, had been the one that made me fall in love with him to begin with.
Then I saw another side of him, the side that lied to me, hid things from me and was living to far away from me for to completely trust. Trust is something you earn, and when it's lost you have to earn it back. He hadn't, I tried to convince myself those weeks after Banks cut himself, that he had. But no steps had been made, no old wounds healed, some had even grown deeper. There were so many different voices in my head screaming things, I didn't know which to listen to. Yet the one saying to call quits was the loudest, so that one, won out in the end.
"Hey Fult, you in there?" Portman snapped his fingers in front of me.
"Huh?" I shook my head, not realizing I'd been so lost in thought.
"I asked if you were ready to get to the hospital and you totally ignored me."
"Oh, sorry, yeah I'm ready, let's hit the road." As we left my apartment that day, as rude as it sounds, the last thing on my mind was Charlie.