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Title: Stages Of Gale- Part 4 Disclaimer: This is only for fun. None of this is real nor
should any implication be made based on this manuscript that I have any insider
info on either of these two fine men. Complete:
yes Stages Of Gale- Part 4 The last time was angry and violent and left us both battered and seething. He tried to hide it from me and maybe anyone who doesn’t know him as well as I do wouldn’t have noticed, but his face just seemed to crumple when I told him about my new boyfriend. But then he kissed me and hugged me and I tried to take him at his word that he was happy for me. I never planned it. Who ever plans to meet someone? Paul was sweet and kind and he doted on me. And he seemed ready for me. Ready for a relationship with me, even though he didn’t always understand my long work hours. He wasn’t afraid to tell me that he loved spending time with me, that he loved being fucked by me, that he loved how easy things were with me- that he loved me. Was I supposed to wait another two years for Gale to figure out who he was? Maybe I’d have been willing to do that when I was a lot younger but I’m more pragmatic now. I love Gale. I probably more than love him. All right, I know I do, but I’m tired of being alone and waiting for him. I want to be in a relationship. I want to be loved, and as much he obviously cherishes our friendship, he clearly will never feel for me the way I’d like him to. I don’t even care that Gale’s not out. I know that’s not very PC but when and how a person should come out is a very personal, private decision and it needs to happen in its own time. The truth is, this world isn’t as accepting of us as it should be- and coming out can do as much damage as it prevents. I could only be his friend during that process; I would never try to make him do something he wasn’t ready for. So it wasn’t about that. Gale hadn’t wanted me. Paul did. How much more simple could it be? When Paul came along, I took a chance. I moved on. Gale shouldn’t have expected anything else of me. ********************************************************************** Principal filming for season two was drawing to a close and there was a palpable buzz around the set that this could be a break-out season for us; that we might, for the first time, gain real respect for the quality of work we were producing. Everyone was high on it and while the filming was agonizingly long and we were all was sleep deprived, we pushed on, week after week, proud of what we were accomplishing. Even while I shared in that pride and was looking forward to the next hiatus, Gale and I were falling apart. The subject of my relationship lay between us like a bed of hot coals that we couldn’t touch but felt as a constantly painful sear to our flesh. Part of me wanted to go to him and try to explain, while another part of me grew angrier by the day that he thought he had the right to feel so morose over someone else bringing me the happiness he withheld. Gale in his turn became distant, choosing to have lunch alone in his trailer rather than share it with me between takes; his calls to my cell phone tapered off and then ceased and our weekend explorations of Toronto abruptly ended. Our friendship had essentially evaporated the moment I told him there was someone in my life, and I ached for the loss of it. Gale tried to smile and was unfailingly polite to Paul, but he was suffering, too, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was the cause of it. I was at a loss. I had no clear idea of how to retrieve our friendship and so I had no choice but to let him slip away. Things didn’t get any better when Paul and I began to have issues about the rapidly approaching season wrap. I would be returning to New York and he was a Canadian who had no desire to live anywhere else but Toronto. I was becoming sad and frustrated by the impasse and the one time I’d tried to talk to Gale about it was disastrous. He displayed little sympathy for us and finally shouted, “Why do you think I give a shit where you and your new fuck buddy shack up?” before stomping off to his trailer. He later apologized, citing stress as the cause of his outburst, and said he hoped Paul and I would work it out- but I understood that by now Gale was only going through the motions. I accepted his apology with the silent determination that I would never again bring up such personal issues with him. We may have been close once, but we were nothing more than work colleagues now and while it hurt like hell, I wasn’t prepared to continuing coddle him. Somehow the parallel between Gale and I, and Justin and Brian, escaped me entirely. Even if it hadn’t, I should have recognized that their simple TV drama solution was not an answer for us. We couldn’t fuck each other back to friendship, or into love. I guess we both still had that lesson to learn. *********************************************************************** I stood at the rest room sink, rubbing soap into my hands until there was a thick lather worked up, but my mind was elsewhere. The season two wrap party was winding down in the ballroom across the hall and I was about to go and start seeking out old friends and colleagues in the dwindling crowd to say goodbye for another long hiatus. I love so many of them and like and respect nearly all the rest. I think that in some ways I’m growing up with them. I was so young when I started this journey, fresh out of college, eager and headstrong and ok, yes, maybe a little stupid. But I’ve been watching everything with a keen eye, and learning whatever anyone is willing to teach me. Television is so different from the theatre, but I have no doubt that all this amazing experience will only help me deepen my craft and grow as an artist. Paul had left the celebration hours earlier, citing a headache, but I knew there was an argument waiting for me when I got home to him. As filming had drawn to a close, the tension in my little household had increased. I had told Paul in no uncertain terms that I would be returning to New York a few days after we wrapped to begin rehearsals for a play in which I’d gotten a small role. I invited him to come with me, but he refused. I knew the end had come and I felt strangely ambiguous about leaving him. I doubted that we would be successful in making a long distance relationship work, even though Toronto is only a little more than 400 miles from the city. It was the bigger picture I found hard to imagine- neither of us would be willing to give up citizenship or our careers and the combination of both obstacles together would likely be the one-two punch our brief but intense relationship could never survive. Sighing, I put my hands under the warm running water and rinsed them absently. Reaching for paper towels, I glanced in the mirror and drew in a startled breath- Gale was leaning casually against the far wall, his arms crossed, quietly watching me. I’d never heard the rest room door open, nor noticed him sliding up behind me, so deep into my own thoughts I had been. “Christ, you scared me!” I laughed shakily, “How long have you been standing there?” He lifted his shoulders in a soundless shrug. I stuffed the used paper towel into the trash bin and crossed the distance between us, matching Gale’s silence. Surprising me, he reached his hand out and took mine, gently tugging me towards the widest stall at the end of the row. I raised my eyebrows in question but the only answer I received was a placid tug to follow. Gale pulled me into the handicapped stall and closed and locked the door behind us. I was already becoming annoyed by his presumption and I was about to protest when he leaned in close and pressed his lips to mine. Fury shot through me. It was just like him to assume that these last few months of silence, discomfort and avoidance could be ignored just because he was horny or lonely or whatever the fuck it was he was feeling. Did he think I’d just melt into him and all would be forgiven and forgotten? I placed both hands on his chest and shoved him away from me so hard he nearly stumbled. His bland expression never changed. He studied me, his dark eyes traveling to my forehead, cheekbones, lips and finally coming to rest again on my eyes. I felt as if I was being sized up. “You don’t love him after all,” Gale stated, matter-of-factly and waited for my response. “What the fuck business is it of yours? I cried, trying to cover the obvious truth with righteous anger. How dare he? He shrugged again, the indifference never leaving his expression. “Probably none,” he went on, “but it’s true, nonetheless. Why are you with him?” “Why do you care? You didn’t want me!” I spit at him. “You fuck him because I broke your poor lil heart? Bullshit.” His eyebrow arched, but it was the only change in his expression and it was really starting to bug the shit out of me. “You’re a complete asshole, Gale, why didn’t I see that before?” I was apoplectic. He moved very suddenly and pinned my body between the wall and his much larger form. He slapped his hands to the tile on either side of my head, making me wince in something like fear. I did think about being afraid of him, and wondered if I should be, but his sudden advance into my personal space also had an opposing effect on me, too, and to my shame, I realized I was rapidly becoming hard. I took a sharp breath to protest but his mouth swooped down on mine again and stole my breath with an angry, jealous kiss. I pushed against him, trying to escape, but he either misread my intention or ignored it and his hands came down on my shoulders, slamming my back into the tile while his mouth plundered mine. “It’s me you want,” he snarled into my mouth, his teeth pulling on my lower lip painfully, “I’m the one you think about when you fuck him. I’m the one you love.” “Fuck you, you arrogant prick!” I seethed. “No,” he purred, his voice heavy with sarcasm, “fuck you. You know you want me to.” I cuffed him across the cheek, and he pulled his lips from mine but now his dick was pressing into my stomach and he was hard, too. The fucker. I hated him. I loved him. My handprint was clearly visible on his cheek as ugly slashes of angry red. It looked as if I had branded him. Behind us, the bathroom door suddenly swung open on its hinges and two laughing, chatting men entered the rest room. His stare bored into me, challenging me to scream for help. Go ahead, his eyes said to me, if you want to stop this, do it now, this is your chance. Our eyes remained locked in silent warfare for what seemed like an eternity. Finally acting, I snagged my fingers into his hair and pulled his mouth back to mine. I can give as good as I get and I meant to bite him hard enough to draw blood. My teeth sank into his lip and he bucked but didn’t cry out. He didn’t want to be rescued. I released him and smiled a predatory grin at the coppery taste of his blood in my mouth. I watched entranced as his tongue snaked out and licked the welt on his lip. “You little cunt,” he breathed under his breath, and kissed me again. The back of my head slammed into the tile behind me, causing me to see stars, but still I didn’t call for help. Our bathroom companions were at the sinks now, washing up. They’d be leaving in a few seconds and if I wanted their help against my much larger, heavier foe, I’d need to make my presence known soon. I took his ravaging kiss silently. His knee nudged its way between my legs and shoved, effectively spreading my legs while also grinding his erection against me even harder. My head was starting to swim and I couldn’t tell who was winning and who was losing. It all felt so wrong, twisted even, and yet I couldn’t stop. My fingers found purchase in his shoulder blades and I scraped the flesh beneath his shirt hard enough to make him whimper quietly into my mouth. The voice of the two men sharing the rest room with us drifted towards the direction of the door and from the periphery of my awareness, I heard the door open and close once more, leaving Gale and I alone again in our silent battle of wills and bodies. “Me,” he growled when they’d left, “it’s me you want. Say it!” His lips moved down my neck, chewing and biting into the tender flesh there, leaving a wet trail of swollen red splotches. “Tell me, Randy.” “I won’t, fucker!” My hands found his hair again and I yanked hard on it, pulling him away from me so that my eyes met his. His complacent expression was finally gone. His face was flushed with blood, his breathing was becoming erratic and behind the anger and pain in his eyes, I saw a deep and powerful hunger that my entire body began to respond to. “You hurt me,” he panted. His fingers reached to the top button of my pants and yanked it open. “How? By finding someone else to love me??” My zipper soon followed and he jammed his hand down into my jeans. “Yes!” He grabbed my swollen cock and squeezed until I yelped. His eyes were welling with tears even as he stroked me to a painfully full erection. “Why are you doing this?” I panted, while the sickening realization bloomed in my gut that I didn’t want him to stop. “You want me to,” he hissed in my ear. His free hand found my shoulder and he spun me around like I weighed no more than a rag doll, pressing my face into the cold wall. His fingers scrabbled in my back pocket and retrieved the condom and packet of lube he knew would be there. “I don’t!” I sputtered. He shoved my pants and briefs to my knees. “Then tell me to stop,” he challenged, but I couldn’t. “Why are you doing this?” I demanded again, determined to get the real answer out of him if it killed us both. “I need you,” he was getting closer, so I pressed on as I heard the condom packet rip. “Why are you doing this?” I was shouting now. His cock was nudging between my cheeks. “I love you,” he groaned and buried his dick in me to the hilt with one strong push. I clenched around him, pain lancing into me. I turned my face so he would hear my next volley clearly and be wounded by it. “Liar!” I accused. His breath hitched and his eyes closed. I’d cut deep and I knew it but suddenly I didn’t feel very triumphant. I just felt empty and cold, even as he began a steady rhythm, pistoning his hips into mine again and again. “Fuck you, Randy,” he sobbed and despite myself, my hips began to rock with his, facilitating his motion, increasing it. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.” He chanted, breathing heavily into my ear. Tears were streaming down my face and the fingers of my right hand found his and entwined with them tightly. His litany of curses continued until his hips snapped once, twice and then once more into me and he came hard with an incoherent shout, his face buried in the back of my neck. I followed immediately after but felt no joy in the act. Panting heavily, he stepped back, sliding his dick carelessly out of me. I heard him pull the condom off and drop it into the toilet. He was pulling up his own jeans and buttoning them when I finally found the courage to turn my face enough to see him. He wouldn’t look at me, but his face was tracked with tears too, and I found some small relief in that. He tucked in his shirt, his tongue slipping over the bruise on his lip once more, and said in a heartbreaking soft voice, “I’ve never lied to you, ever.” He unlocked the stall door, made his way to the exit and left me standing with my pants still hanging at my knees and my face pressed to the cool wall. I slid to the floor, feeling broken and empty. I sobbed into my hands, wondering if I’d ever see him again. It would be very much like him to keep walking, to just keep moving until he’d found somewhere quiet, away from everyone and everything; go back to being a grease monkey or a plumber or any number of other things he could turn to in a pinch for a pay check and a roof over his head. I laughed shakily at my own ego. Yeah, like he’d break his contract, leave his job and friends and the family we’ve created here just because he couldn’t have little old me. Maybe I wasn’t as grown-up as I thought. But as I stood on rubbery legs and pulled my pants back up, the seed of doubt was planted. I went to the sink, a sob catching in my throat as I realized that this is where tonight’s catastrophe had begun, and splashed cold water on my face. I looked like I’d been beaten, and I guess I had. All I wanted was a chance to do it over again; to take his hand tonight, lead him home and show him that we could have a life together and that we could be happy. I stared at my hollow, empty eyes in the mirror a moment more, pushed off the sink and made my way back to the party. It was time to say goodnight. The EndContinue on to Stages of Gale - Epilogue |