Intrepid Traveler - Part 12

Before he even opened his eyes he knew that the man lying next to him wasn’t the right one.  It seemed a strange concept to him at one point in his life, but waking up next to Taylor just felt right.  This…guy…he wasn’t.  He smelled wrong, sounded wrong, and felt wrong.  Everything about the situation was just…wrong. 

Brian forced himself to open his eyes, grateful that it was very early and the sun wasn’t up yet.  The pounding in his head was bad enough without the bright light adding to it.  Turning his head to his right, Brian grimaced, trying to figure out what the hell he was thinking picking up a guy and bringing him back to his room for a fuck. 

He nudged the trick carefully.  The guy didn’t budge.  Brian nudged him again, more forcefully this time.  “It’s time for you to go,” he said, his voice void of any emotion, when the other man finally opened his eyes.

“It’s too early.  Let’s go back to sleep,” the guy said, already getting more comfortable with Brian’s pillow.

“I said, get the fuck out,” Brian growled, nudging the man once again, non-too-gently.

Not waiting for the trick to get out of bed, Brian stood up and quickly pulled on the jeans he wore the night before.  It wasn’t even six in the morning yet, but Brian knew that going back to bed, even if the trick would finally haul his ass out of the bed would not be possible.

So, he took out his toiletries and headed to the bathroom. 

Finishing his morning regimen, taking a little extra time in the shower to wash away the smell of the other man on his skin, Brian returned to his room, relieved to find that the trick had gotten the point.  The room was empty, just the way Brian liked it.

Except – it wasn’t.  Something was missing. Someone.  And unfortunately he knew damn well who. 

He rubbed his forehead, trying to figure out what to do next.  That he screwed up royally wasn’t a secret.  Even someone as clueless as he was when it came to…relationships knew that standing up your boyfriend and then fucking some nameless guy senseless constituted as fucking up.  The question was, how would someone as fucked up as Brian felt at the moment could rectify the situation?  The first thought that came to mind was groveling.  Lots and lots of groveling.  The problem was, Taylor was more than likely in a different town at the moment. 

Unless…he didn’t go.  And that thought made Brian feel even worse – something that he didn’t think was possible.  He had to find out whether Taylor went away without him.  And even though it was too early and Brian was sure to get a few not so kind words from Cole, he pulled on the shirt and headed to the third floor.

He knocked on the door and waited.  A couple minutes later he heard grumbling and in the next moment he was standing face to face with Jim Cole.  Brian wanted to laugh at the look on the other man’s face, but he had more important things to do, like finding out whether his boyfriend was still here and whether he still had a boyfriend.

“I need to talk to Taylor,” Brian simply said, not feeling particularly inclined to start yet another argument with the other man.

“Do you know what time it is?” Jim growled.

Brian took a deep breath in and decided to try again.  “Look, would you just tell him that I need to talk to him?”

“Fuck off, Kinney.”  With that Jim began to close the door right in Brian’s face.

And Brian almost let him do it, but something inside of him, a nagging thought, caused him to put his foot in the doorway, stopping the door from slamming shut on him.  Putting all his weight on the door, he pushed it open. 

“Get the fuck out!” Jim shouted.

Brian didn’t move, his mind trying to focus on the fact that Taylor’s bed was empty.  Which meant that Taylor went to Altoona without him.  Not that he could blame him.

“I said get the fuck out!” Cole repeated.

Brian scanned the room one more time before turning around to head outside when his eye caught something lying next to the bed.  Taylor’s backpack.  The brunet froze in his tracks, eyeing the object.   If Taylor left, he would have at least taken some clothes with him. 

Instead of leaving, Brian walked over to the bed and picked up the bag, opening the zipper and glancing inside.  Taylor’s clothes were packed neatly in the backpack.  Brian looked around the room, not sure what he was searching for exactly, yet needing to find something.  His eyes landed on a trashcan near the desk.  He dropped the bag on the bed, crossing the small room and crouching down in front of the trashcan filled with pieces of paper.  Pieces of paper with what looked like pencil drawings, or at least what was left of them.  He reached out with his hand, taking out one small piece that had ‘Faggots’ written on it in large red letters.  He didn’t even want to look for the second half of the drawing, his stomach dropping at the thought of what the message said.  He didn’t have to be a genius to figure it out.  Or to realize who wrote it.

Jaw and fists clenched, Brian stood up.  He wanted nothing more than to drive the man’s head through the wall.  He turned around, glaring at Cole.  “What did you do to him?” he asked, barely containing his anger.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

Moving quickly, Brian grabbed Cole by his shirt, slamming him against the wall.  “What did you do to him?”

“Take your hands off me,” Cole hissed, struggling against Brian’s hold.

That only made Brian push harder.  “If you did anything to him, and I mean ANYTHING, I will fucking kill you,” he growled, finally letting the man go.  As much as he wanted to hurt Cole, his first priority was to find Taylor, to make sure the teen was alright. 

Dropping the piece of paper still clutched in his hand, Brian hurried out the door and down the hall.  He had no idea where to even start looking for Taylor.  Nick’s was out of the question since the man was out of town.  He doubted Taylor would have gone to Lindsay.  The only place he could think of was the spot where Taylor liked to go to draw – a secluded area behind Nittany Lion Inn.

Brian ran as fast as he could, even though a logical part of him realized that it would have been too cold for Taylor to spend the whole night outside.  But something inside of him told him to only run faster, stopping only when he reached the cul-de-sac and spotted a lone figure on the bench near the trees. 

Sighing in relief, Brian made his way over to the bench.  “Are you ok?” he asked as soon as he reached Taylor.

The man didn’t respond.  He just kept staring straight ahead. 

Brian sat down next him on the bench, taking Taylor’s face in his hands to force the blond look at him.  It shocked Brian how cold his lover’s skin was.  It made him shudder at the thought that Taylor spent all night out in the cold. 

“Taylor?” he tried again, softly, as he turned the blond’s face to his.  “Tell me what happened.”

Taylor’s eyes fluttered, but not one sound left his lips.  He looked tired, completely exhausted, physically and emotionally. 

Running his hand along the ice-cold flesh, Brian pulled the smaller man in his arms.

~~~***~~~***~~~

As soon as Brian got Taylor back to the dorm, he hurried him off to the shower, realizing that he needed to warm the teen up before he caught pneumonia after sitting outside for hours.  He helped Taylor get undressed, grateful that it was still early and the showers were empty.  He wanted to get in the shower with his lover, but realizing that at any moment somebody could walk in on them, he opted to wait outside. 

It killed Brian to see Taylor like that – quiet, subdued, not saying a word.  The same man who was always so full of life – he was more like a shell of the Taylor Brian had known for months.  And that made him wonder what else happened in Taylor’s room to cause this reaction.

The machine beeped alerting Brian to the fact that the cup had been filled.  He took the steaming cup out of the opening.  At least it smelled like hot chocolate.  He wasn’t so sure about the taste of it.

He knew that he should have gone to get some food for Taylor, but he didn’t want to leave the teen alone for too long.  Besides, he didn’t think Taylor would be receptive to food at the moment, so Brian settled for the hot chocolate from the vending machine down the hall from his room.  It was sweet, had a bunch of calories, but most importantly it was hot.

Careful not to spill the hot substance, Brian made his way back to his room.  Opening the door, he found Taylor just like he had left him – sitting on the bed wrapped in a blanket.  To his relief, he could see some of the color coming back on the teen’s skin. 

“Here,” Brian handed the cup to the blond.

Taylor looked up, his eyes settling on Brian’s for a brief moment.  He took the cup in his hands.  “Thanks,” he said quietly.

That was the first word the artist had said since Brian had brought him back to the room and Brian breathed in a little easier now, a sense of relief filling him. 

He walked over to the vacant bed and sat down on the edge, watching Taylor take careful sips of the steaming hot chocolate.

“What did he do to you?” he asked quietly.  He probably should have waited until Taylor was feeling a little bit better, but he had to know. 

Taylor raised his gaze to meet Brian’s.

“Did he hurt you?” Brian tried again. 

Taylor looked away.

“Taylor?”

The blond closed his eyes, then opened them.  “No.”

“I know it was Cole.  I saw the sketches.  What he did.  You can tell me if he…”

“No,” Taylor repeated, a little louder this time.  “He wasn’t there.”  He paused, taking a deep breath in.  “I just saw the…what he did…” his voice lowered to a whisper, “…and I freaked.”

Brian sighed, partly in relief that all of the things he imagined happening to Taylor were just that – his imagination.  He rose from the bed and walked over to sit next to his boyfriend, his hand reaching to stroke the blond’s back.  “Why didn’t you come to me?”

Taylor’s eyes locked on his and they just stared at each other for a moment.  And Brian knew...Taylor saw him with that other guy when Brian should have been with him, driving to Altoona.  Brian squeezed his eyes shut, unable to look Taylor in the eye.  This was all his fault.  If he had only stopped acting like a total coward and met Taylor at seven like they agreed, none of this would have happened.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, opening his eyes once again.  It was lame, he knew.  It couldn’t make up for hurting Taylor the way he did.  But nothing could make up for it and ‘sorry’ was all he could muster. 

“Don’t be.” 

Brian noticed a fleeting smile on the blond’s face. 

“It’s not your style,” Taylor added, looking away.  “It’s ok.”

“Taylor…”

“There was nothing you could have done,” Taylor insisted, turning away from Brian and looking out the window, watching the sun paint the sky in different shades of pinks and golds. 

Brian wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, but he was startled when Taylor’s voice broke the silence.

“My senior year in high school was hell,” the blond began quietly.  “I was picked on by other students, bullied, shoved into lockers…” he paused, taking a deep breath.  “The worst one was Chris Hobbs.” 

Brian thought he saw Taylor wince at the mention of the name.

“I…” The artist looked down, fingering the cardboard cup still in his hands.  “The night of our prom I…I was with somebody…and…Hobbs attacked me.”

Brian frowned, his eyes not leaving Taylor’s face, trying to understand what the teen was trying to tell him.  His eyes widened when he started to put pieces together.  “The accident,” he whispered.

Taylor nodded.

“What did he do?” Brian asked with a shaky voice.

“He hit me…in the head…” Taylor swallowed, his eyes trained on the floor.  “…with a baseball bat.”

Brian felt his stomach churn, making him ill.  Suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the room, the growing lump in his throat suffocating him.  He rose from the bed, walking over to the window and opening it wide, the cold air shocking him back to reality.  Taking in a couple of deep breaths, he looked back at Taylor, not sure whether he wanted to know more, but yet needing to ask the question.  “How bad was it?”

Taylor’s eyes met his for a brief second before settling back on the cup in his hands.  And Brian knew before Taylor responded.  He could have died. 

“I was in a coma for two weeks.”

Brian closed his eyes, fighting the tears stinging his eyes.  “And your hand?” he asked after a few minutes, his voice quivering. 

Taylor sighed loudly.  “For a while there I didn’t think I would ever draw again.  But rehab and…” He paused, as if remembering something.  “It’s ok now.”  He met Brian’s eyes once more, a tiny smile playing on his lips.  “Well, for the most part,” he added. 

Finally feeling like he wasn’t about to drown, Brian closed the window and walked back over to the bed, taking his spot next to his lover. 

“That was the worst – not being able to draw,” Taylor said.  “Well, that and…” his voice trailed off.

“And?” Brian wasn’t entirely sure he could handle any more information, but he had to know everything.

The artist looked up at him.  “I would get these panic attacks sometimes.  Freak out when somebody tried to touch me, but that’s been over for a while.”  He shrugged.  “At least I thought it was.  I guess not.”  He cleared his throat.  “I saw those…words…and all I could see was Chris Hobbs.”  Taylor shook his head as if to clear it. 

Brian reached out and cupped Taylor’s face in his hands, drawing him close.  Taylor closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Brian whispered. “I promise.”

Taylor’s eyes snapped open and he pulled away from the surprised Brian, shaking his head.  “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t promise.”

“Taylor, I…”

“No,” Taylor cut him off, “This isn’t your responsibility.  I’m not your responsibility, Brian.  I should have never put that on you.”

Brian’s forehead creased in confusion.  “You never did.  I…”

“But I did.  And it was wrong of me and unfair to you…”

Brian gently brushed the pale cheek with his fingers.  “What are you talking about?”

Taylor blinked, pausing mid sentence, and Brian saw the blue eyes well up with tears and…something else that Brian couldn’t quite explain – the feeling that there was something else Taylor wasn’t telling him, a deeper secret.

The artist shook his head slightly, a lone tear rolling down his cheek.  Brian brushed it away with his thumb before pulling his lover close against his chest.  Whatever else that was there to be said, Brian didn’t care.  This wasn’t the time for this.  He just held Taylor in his arms, telling himself that he was alright.  For a brief moment Brian let his mind ponder over the fact that if that…Chris Hobbs…if he had succeeded, Taylor wouldn’t even have been alive right now, wouldn’t be in his arms, in his life.  Brian found it extremely difficult to breathe and shook his head to clear it of these thoughts.  He had to focus on the present and its problems.  And there were plenty.  Not the least of which was the fact that Taylor’s roommate was just as fucking crazy as the asshole who nearly took Taylor’s life.

“I don’t want you going back to that room,” he said, slightly pulling away from Taylor.

The blond gazed at him in confusion.

“You can’t live in the same room as that psycho,” Brian explained.

“I know,” Taylor sighed.  “I’ll have to go to Housing and see if they can find me another roommate.”

Brian bit his lower lip, pausing briefly before making the biggest leap of his adult life.  “Or,” he managed a smile, “You can move in here.”

Taylor’s eyebrows went up as he stared back at Brian, obviously surprised.  “Are…are you sure?”

Brian licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry.  “Would I be asking you if I wasn’t?”

“It would mean I’d be here ALL the time,” Taylor informed him.

Brian’s mouth curved at the corners.  “That’s the idea.”

Taylor pulled away, studying Brian’s face carefully and Brian could see the struggle going on in his lover’s head, and after what had just happened the night before he couldn’t blame the teen for doubting him.  He just hoped that Taylor would let him wipe the slate clean and start over.

The smile on his lover’s face told him that he got his wish. 

Go to Part 13

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