Agoraphobia

Chapter 3

“Don’t go yet…” I say sheepishly.

“Justin… I have to. I’m waiting for a client to call… I mean, I hope he hasn’t called already. I really have to go.”

“Oh. Um. Sorry.” Col’ blimey, I feel like an IDIOT. “Thanks for taking Georgia overnight, Brian.” I really don’t believe it, but I feel like I might have a panic attack if Brian leaves. Here I am, Justin Taylor, certifiable, scared of people – ever since I can remember, the very thought of being near anyone gives me a certain panic attack.

Except with Brian- with Brian, it’s just the opposite. He makes me feel safe- and I’m already feeling scared to death because he’s about to leave and I’ll be here all alone. I bite my lip trying to hold back tears. Fuck! When did I become such a baby? I can’t look at him or he’ll see my wet eyes; so I look at my hands.

He closes the small distance between us; he then gently cups my chin and raises my head so my eyes meet his. His look is so tender and his small smile is so genuine I fucking burst into tears. FUCK FUCK FUCK! I’m not a fucking child! But, again, around Brian, I’m a fucking twat, an immature, weak freak. “I…I’m sor..sorry, Br… Brian!” I sputter and stutter out. “Fuck me! I’m such a pussy!”

“Shhhhh…” He pulls me against him and wraps his arms around me. I wrap mine around him almost violently and cling to him. “Shhh… listen, Sunshine, remember? Sorry’s bullshit. And you aren’t a pussy, for fuck’s sake. Thankfully, you aren’t a pussy in any way, shape or form.” I laugh a little through my tears, despite myself. “Shhh. Justin, calm the fuck down…”

“I… I mean, fuck… I’ve known you a little over two h….hours… and I’m blubb… blubbering all over y…you. I’m such a freak…” I feel him chuckle slightly and I pull back, loosening my tight grip on him. Fuck. He’s laughing at me! I push him away, not daring to look at his face to see that sneer I expect to see, telling me that all of this means nothing to him, that all I’ve revealed is funny to him, that it was a game. Well, fuck- what should I expect? I turn and run into the bedroom and slam the door.

This feels pathetically familiar. I was running away from him a couple of hours ago too.

Shit. Now I *really* want Brian to leave. I not only feel like a complete wimp, I feel angry and betrayed. I mean, yeah, I was slobbering all over him because I for once didn’t want to be left completely alone- no Georgia and no Brian (the cats don’t really pay me much mind- this clutter is like a huge amusement park for them and they keep to themselves). But I mean, as I said, for *once*, I want company from another person- from *him*, only *him*- and he laughs at me!

Like hell his mother was agoraphobic! Like hell he feels strongly about agoraphobia and nothing much else! To fucking hell with him!

It’s then that the light from the living room shines into my darkened bedroom and then the overhead light comes on. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…

“Justin…” he says quietly. “What’s wrong?”

“Just go wait for your client’s call, you asshole!” Hm. No stuttering. It helps to be angry, I guess- because, while, yes, I’m hurt. I’m also now seething.

He ignores me. “Justin, answer me! What’s *wrong*? What did I do?”

“If you don’t already know…”

“Oh, shit, Justin, don’t do that ‘if you don’t already know then you wouldn’t understand’ routine- that’s very housewifey. Just. Tell. Me.”

I don’t say anything.

He sighs. “Is it because I fucking laughed?”

I sit up and look at him.

“Ah.” He snickers and I want to slug him. “Sunshine, I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at the situation- because as you were saying, we’ve known each other for only a few hours and here we are already holding each other and sharing somewhat… well, for me, we’ve already been talking about shit with each other that *I* at least don’t ever share- or hardly ever. And certainly not with someone I just met.

“Sunshine, listen to me: I’m not an open person- in fact, not even my friends from years back know what you know about my mother- well, one does, but that’s because he was there at the time. So when you were saying how you felt like a freak crying on a relative stranger’s shoulder, it occurred to me that I feel the same way.”

Oh. I look at him in wonder. Is this guy really too good to be true? I reach my hand out for him tentatively.

He doesn’t take my hand – although he doesn’t look angry. “I wish, Sunshine, you wouldn’t keep expecting me to be some ogre who wants to manipulate you or laugh at you or tease you – about your agoraphobia, anyway.” He winks. “I *am* an ogre- ask anyone who’s worked with me or hung out with me or basically dealt with me in any way. But I know where the line is – the line not to cross. And maybe I have a soft spot for you because of your circumstances and how they relate to my experience as a kid with my mom- or maybe it’s for some mysterious I-don’t-know-what reason, but regardless, Justin, I’m not going to laugh at you for being scared or unhappy. I may be an asshole, but I’m not *totally* heartless.” He then looks at my hand which is still where it had been when I reached for him, but is now resting on the dirty sheets on the bed. He takes it, gives it a squeeze and releases it.

He thumbs his nose like he has an itch and looks at the light switch, like he wishes he hadn’t turned the light on. His expression is unreadable, but I sense that he’s feeling very exposed and vulnerable and off center. It’s apparent that this is not how Brian normally behaves or talks.

“Brian, go wait for your client to call- I hope whoever it is hasn’t called already, with all the time you’ve wasted here—“

“Spent here, Justin. Not wasted. And are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ll be fine. Just…” I pause. “Just, could you relatch the outside gate and bring Georgia to my door tomorrow instead of leaving her in the yard?” I feel so stupid- like a kid asking for his mother to leave the door open a crack at bedtime. “I mean, you can bring her to my door tomorrow morning, if she’ll come- if not, just put her in your apartment and come over and unlatch the gate to bring her around then…” I can’t look at him as I say all this. Again, I feel like such a little kid.

He reaches out and cups my chin so that I meet his eyes. There’s a smile on his face; “No problem, Sunshine.” He leans in and gives me a brief kiss on my lips and it’s so soft and tender, I want to explode. Even when I was pissed as hell at him, my dick seems to respond to everything about him- his unbelievable beauty, his voice, his laugh, his eyes, the graceful, lithe way he moves, the small touches he gives me without thinking about it, his *everything*; and then this kiss- this kiss that makes me want to explode.

I must have closed my eyes because next thing I know, I look up and he’s gone.

“Where’s that key of yours?” he calls from the door to the yard.

I sigh, wishing he were still here next to me- preferably kissing me. “I’ll get it.” I get up, willing my full scale hard-on to go down because it’s *quite* obvious right now. I grab a sweatshirt and tie it around my waist, hoping the dangling sleeves will hide it. Obvious ploy- I hadn’t been wearing a sweatshirt. I hope Brian doesn’t notice. I jog into the living room and beeline to the drawer where I keep the deadbolt key. Instead of handing it to him, I toss it over and he catches it easily.

Brian looks at me oddly, then notices the sweatshirt around my waist and he smirks. Thankfully, he doesn’t comment- I’m already turning a deep red. Tongue in cheek, he just looks at me slyly and turns to unlock the door. I look to see if he’s at all hard, but it doesn’t look like he is. But I suspect with his experience he has much more dick control than I do. Given my constant state of erection, I have *none* whatsoever.

He goes out and relatches the gate, and is now by the front door. “Here, Sunshine- this is my phone number since you can’t come by if you need anything. If you need me, go ahead and call—“

“But your client—“

“I have call waiting. Just call, okay? See you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah…” I breathe. Then he’s gone- really gone- and I look around the apartment: the dingy, dusty, cluttered, needing-HAZMAT apartment, and I wrap my arms around myself. I feel scared, lonely, jumpy and… well, did I say scared? Why, I’m not entirely sure. I mean, Georgia’s always been with me before and she makes me feel like there’s another soul here (the cats do their own thing). But it’s not as much Georgia who I miss; it’s Brian. Again, he makes me feel safe. Really safe. And again, that’s very bizarre- I actually want to be with a *human*. No one other than Brian- but I want to be with Brian more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.

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