FIC: Father Figure (3/?)
Title: Father Figure
Pairing: John Paul/Craig
Note: Chapter 1 ( http://jacosta3.livejournal.com/2007/11/08/ ) and 2 ( http://jacosta3.livejournal.com/2007/11/10/ )
--
Craig woke up from a somewhat restless night's sleep wondering why the love of his life had shrunk and covered himself in cloth. With the morning sunlight beaming down on Craig, he finally opened his eyes to see he was close to making out with a pillow.
He tossed the pillow aside and stopped in the bathroom to get ready for the day. As the suds ran down his naked body he thought about the vicious brawls he and his family had experienced over bathroom privileges when they'd briefly stayed in the McQueen home after the fire that had razed their home and pub. So much had changed since then...this place was practically a ghost town compared to that time. His own life felt much emptier of people, yet somehow fuller in accomplishment. He was on his way to a career...eventually, and he had the man he loved. He knew he was lucky, and that was almost enough to overcome the pangs of loneliness he felt as he toweled himself off.
As he looked for his clothes, the mysteriously vanished man showed up wearing nothing more than jeans slung ridiculously low around his hips. If Craig took the time - and Craig did - he could count every hair from John Paul's treasure trail down to...
"Made some breakfast if ya want some. If you're hungry for food, that is."
Hurriedly averting his gaze from his lover's crotch, Craig turned red just in time for the big smirk on John Paul's face.
"You're a right perv, Craig Dean."
"And you wouldn't want me any other way."
John Paul didn't bother to argue that point. He looked so at peace this morning that Craig could hardly fight the sadness creeping up on him as he remembered he was going to tell John Paul that his father had wanted to see him. John Paul quickly noticed his change in demeanor. Before he could ask Craig what was wrong, Craig asked him to sit down on the unmade bed.
"John Paul...I don't really know how to say this so I'll just say it. After you left yesterday, your dad told me he wanted to talk to you around the same time this afternoon. Told me if you didn't show up he'd get the hint and leave town."
John Paul didn't have much of a reaction at first, finally responding with a mournful chuckle, shaking his head in time with the laugh. Craig could sense him freezing up again.
"He's good, isn't he? No angle uncovered. Well, fuck him. I've said all the words I'm gonna say to him."
Craig wanted to leave it at that. John Paul had made his choice. But the young man beside him looked so fragile and empty, as if he hadn't believed a word that had come out of his own mouth. Craig knew he should stay quiet and just go with what John Paul wanted, but if he truly loved John Paul, he would say his opinion.
"John Paul..."
Before he could get more than the name out, John Paul began to make his way off the bed. His innocent face fell, marred with an unexpected hurt.
"Oh no! No way. He got to you, didn't he?"
When John Paul got like this, on the verge of hysteria, Craig often wondered what to do. Sometimes he wondered if anything he did would just make matters worse.
"John Paul, I just thought you'd want my say. Doesn't mean you have to meet him. Just means if I were you, and it were my dad..."
John Paul was now in the middle of putting on his shirt and trying to ignore the man in the room with him, not to mention the elephant in the room. He wasn't successful. He rapidly turned on Craig and gave him that look Craig always preferred to see used for the powers of good, not evil. Like he was going to say something they'd both regret.
"Craig, I used to have a life of my own. A real identity. Yeah, I was a McQueen, and I had to see people's hair turn white when they learned my last name, but I was still the only son. I was me. Now it's always John Paul and Craig. I don't have my own life. I don't have my own room. I don't even have my own mind anymore, Craig."
Craig reeled at the anger in John Paul's voice. He wasn't sure how much was directed specifically at him, but he still felt under attack.
"I can't even have a shred of my own opinion without feeling like I'm letting you down. It's not enough that I got my own baggage with my own dad. Now if I ignore him, for my own well being, then that means I have to carry you and your dad on my back. Oh poor Craig, he can't ever see his father again, so he'd better live through me."
That one hurt.
"Sorry that my pain is such an inconvenience for you."
Craig hissed out most of that last sentence. John Paul's fury finally returned to some of his normal empathy as he saw the pain in Craig's eyes. Craig stopped him before he could apologize. Craig was in no mood for it.
"How do you think I feel, John Paul? I gave up everything for you. Everything."
"You didn't have to!"
"I know I didn't have to, dammit! I wanted to! And now I find out I'm...what? Am I cramping your style, John Paul? You were in love with me for a year and I loved you too. This is what we wanted! It's not easy and we get on each other's backs but that's what we wanted. Or at least it's what I wanted. Or I thought I did."
Craig prepared to bolt from the room until John Paul stopped him. Craig tried to shrug off his arm but John Paul had surprising strength.
"Let me go, John Paul!"
John Paul wouldn't budge, and as they struggled, they fell on the bed. Their bodies intermingled as both boys struggled for dominance, for control. Any rational thoughts were replaced by the feel of their bodies against each other. Craig's towel slipped away and John Paul's denim jeans clawed against his naked hips and midsection, ground against his erection, an erection he didn't even know he had. He angrily unzipped John Paul's jeans and shoved them down his hips as John Paul pulled his shirt over his head. Their naked midsections fought as they had fought a few moments earlier. Blindly. Their mouths crushed against each other, bruising and furious and determined. Craig soon cried out as the delicious friction between them made him erupt. John Paul quickly followed, both boys naked, sweaty, sticky, spent.
As their ardor cooled, they were left with the remnants of hurt feelings. The lust and hate and rage replaced by remorse. They ran their hands over each other's bare chests and hips as a way of apology without having to say the words. Craig wished he hadn't let John Paul see his hurt. He tried to keep his hurt and pain bottled up as often as he could. He was going to go to the bathroom and wash his face when John Paul stopped him.
"I'm so sorry," John Paul whispered, staring at him as he lovingly kissed his chest and then made his way up from his chest. "I love you so much it kills me sometimes, Craig, and I don't know what I'm saying or doing. I'm so sorry I did that to you, Craig." He made his way to Craig's face and kissed and licked away Craig's tears. The tears John Paul had caused. That Craig's own pain had caused. The pain they both tried to heal but could never fully shake.
"I just, I felt like you had taken his side."
Craig clasped John Paul's hand, his lips pressed against the cool flesh.
"You don't have to explain, John Paul."
"Yes I do. I do, Craig. I hurt you badly and part of me wanted to hurt you. I can't ever do that again, Craig. I can't let my father win that way, and I can't use him as an excuse for my bad behavior. Otherwise I'm no better than he is. So yes, I'll go talk to him. All I ask, and please understand why I'm asking, is that you let me go alone."
Craig said nothing. He worried about what this would do to John Paul. Yet he had seen today what happened when he interfered too much.
All he could do was agree, and give his lover a long, deep kiss of comfort and support.
--
John Paul scanned around his room to see if he had everything. Seeing he had, he checked himself in the full-length mirror. He wasn't sure why he felt so nervous. Maybe because he would be without the most important accessory, the accessory which currently had two long yet very toned arms wrapped around his waist.
"Sure I can't getcha to change your mind?" Craig said while slowly making his way up John Paul's neck.
"You're so persuasive you could get me to have it off with Peggy Mitchell."
Craig turned up his nose in an adorably disgusted way, his head resting on John Paul's shoulder.
"You are SICK!"
John Paul watched Craig's bemused reflection in the mirror. He felt like a schizophrenic. Yestday he'd told Craig he only felt like his true self around him. Then today next day he'd told Craig he was suffocating his true self. Now a few hours later, John Paul couldn't imagine even a second of his life without Craig. Yet he needed this moment apart. He had to see his father on his own.
He could watch Craig all day. Some days, that's all he'd done. Yet their relationship had a turbulent side. John Paul had made him cry. He would never do that again if he could help it. He had to face down one of the reasons for all his bitterness and pain. Might not make him feel any better, but he had to try.
Sensing John Paul's melancholy, Craig squeezed him tighter.
"Craig, I love you so much. I really thought I'd get tired of hearing myself say that, but I do."
Craig slid his hand inside John Paul's shirt to tenderly caress his stomach.
"I love you too. And I'll never get tired of saying it or hearing it."
John Paul tilted his head to share a brief kiss with the man holding him, but they were interrupted by a disgusted snort coming from the hallway.
"Well I'm sure sick of hearing it. Like my opinion counts for anything 'round here."
Michaela's studied contemptuousness was followed by Carmel's scatterbrained charm.
"Aw, I think it's sweet! Craig's got that dark hair and those stormy dark eyes and he's well fit, and John Paul's got that light hair and blue eyes, and he's lush, if I can say that about my brother. They even look like the top of a wedding cake! I mean, if they were shrunk down to wedding cake size. Otherwise they'd flatten the cake and get it all on their shoes, and nobody eats flat wedding cake with shoe prints...not unless they're really, really hungry."
Craig was amused, but John Paul was more concerned about Michaela's reaction. She had seemed angry at him since yesterday, her usual sarcasm laced with malice.
"Which one's gonna wear the dress?"
Michaela seemed even more bitter than usual. John Paul began to suspect he knew why. He broke from Craig's grasp and went to face her.
"How did you know?"
Michaela sneered, but never looked him directly in the eye.
"Wot?"
"'Chaela, who told you?"
His tone was soft and sure. Michaela tried to stonewall, but he'd always been able to get through to the scared little girl under that tough exterior.
"I saw ya with Dad...Ricky when I was in Drive'n'Buy. Happy now?"
Carmel looked crestfallen.
"Oh no, John Paul. Don't tell me you fell for him too. I want to have a real Christmas this year!"
Michaela lobbed a furious glare in her direction.
"Oops. Sorry 'chaela."
John Paul sighed. He wasn't sure how to explain this to them when he could barely explain it to himself. As he began to try to figure out what to say, Craig squeezed his shoulder.
"Gonna go downstairs and watch Deal or No Deal with Myra."
Unspoken was the reminder he would be there if John Paul needed him. John Paul thanked him as he quietly left the room.
John Paul closed the door and motioned his sisters to sit next to him on the bed.
"Just hear me out, please."
Carmel looked on in desperate confusion, hanging on any verbal liferaft he was about to give her. Michaela looked like she was going to punch him, or cry. Or, most likely, both.
"Ricky showed up a few days ago. He cornered me yesterday with Craig. I told him I wanted no part of being around him. That was when you saw us, 'chaela. Then he told Craig he wanted to see me again, privately, today. I don't wanna see him, but I have to."
"So you're choosing him over us?" Michaela yelled.
"No." John Paul tried his best to remain calm, because if he lost it, then everything would be lost and he'd have an even more fractured family. "He hurts us all so much. We can't let him have that power anymore. He's like the monster under the bed. I'm gonna go talk to him, tell him what he did to us, tell him how I feel. How we all feel. This is the only chance I might have to actually talk to him."
"But why did he want to see you instead of one of us?"
John Paul didn't know how to answer Carmel's question, but he tried.
"Cause he knows you'd give him what for, and chaela here'd give him a good kicking."
Slight smiles broke through the anxiety of his sisters, telling him his flattery was at least partially successful.
"We got our genes from Ricky Bowen, but that's all. What we are is a family. No deadbat dad's ever gonna change that or come between us."
John Paul put his hands in theirs, squeezing for emphasis.
"What about your boyfriend? Isn't he gonna come between us?" Michaela spat.
Michaela acted so tough, sometimes John Paul forgot just how young and vulnerable she really was. He knew that his relationship with Craig had taken a big part of him away from his family, but he wasn't going to give up the man he loved. Not after all they had gone through.
"Craig agreed to live in this nuthouse. That tells you how much he cares about me. About all of us. Craig's part of our family now. If he treats any of you the wrong way then he'll answer to me, and if any of you treat him the wrong way..."
He didn't have to finish the sentence.
Carmel gave him a deep hug. Michaela eyed him warily, but allowed him to hug her, which was always an accomplishment. His sisters went downstairs, John Paul joining them after looking at his reflection one last time to see if he was doing the right thing.
When he made his way to the living room, Michaela and Craig were fighting over the remote control, while Myra looked at her son nervously, almost mournfully.
"Be careful, luv."
John Paul knew he could take her comment either way.
As John Paul prepared to leave, Craig gave up the epic struggle for the television and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. Then another. As Craig told him goodbye, he wrapped John Paul in his scarf.
"This is your scarf," John Paul whispered, trying not to draw too much attention from his mother and sisters.
"I know. This way I'll be there." Craig smiled, a very complex smile, one of pride, reservation, and most of all, love.
John Paul felt so moved by such a simple gesture. John Paul gave Craig another quick kiss, hurriedly leaving before he began to cry and gave Michaela more reasons to laugh at him.
He was on his way to talk to Ricky. His father. He also had a proposal for Ricky. As he began to make his way to the bridge, he hoped he was doing the right thing.
--
The sky was sunny and clear as John Paul made his way to the bridge to meet his father. He'd been hoping for something more metaphorical for his father's presence in his life, like a constant drizzle. Then again, life rarely worked out the way John Paul expected.
In spite of the bright skies, there was still enough of a chill for John Paul to justify wearing his scarf. He tugged on the fabric briefly, smelling Craig's scent, knowing Craig was waiting at home to make him feel better. He wasn't sure if he was using Craig's scarf or Craig himself as a security blanket, but if it was the latter, then John Paul owned the fittest and warmest security blanket in all the land.
Part of him hoped Ricky had done a runner, and that way John Paul could pat himself on the back for trying and then that was that. His hopes were dashed when he saw Ricky, hands in pockets, anxiously awaiting his arrival. All the times Ricky had been absent when John Paul had needed him to be there, why did he have to show up the one time John Paul needed him not to be there?
When Ricky saw John Paul, Ricky smiled, a grin which seemed torn between genuine happiness at seeing his son and a forced idea of what he was supposed to be. John Paul felt so nervous. He'd had a big speech planned in his head, but this was his father, who by his endless lack of responsibility had been directly responsible for the man John Paul had become.
The men, father and son, studied each other silently, as if they could gain years of memories, hurts, loves, through that simple eye contact. Like Michaela, Ricky had a hard time looking John Paul in the eye. Finally, John Paul stuck out his hand, relieved to find it wasn't shaking. Ricky looked as if he wanted more, yet was smart enough to not ask. Their hands clasped together, and John Paul wondered if those would one day be his hands.
He had very little idea of what to say, so he just spouted the first idea in his head.
"I wanted to ask you how you could abandon me when a boy needs a dad so much, but you'll have some polished-up answer just for me, instead of the truth."
He expected to set Ricky back on his heels, but instead he was greeted with a resigned yet determined face.
"The truth is I was a coward. We both know that. But when I was a boy, having a dad around didn't stop me from growing up in a living hell. Made things worse, actually. I ran away when I was 15. You had a good home. If you'd had a home like mine I'd have never left you, John Paul. You have to believe that."
"I don't have to believe a word out of your mouth," John Paul sneered. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he sensed a grain of truth in Ricky's words. Of course, the best lies had a kernel of truth in them. "Maybe that's what you've told yourself, but it doesn't work on me."
"Then why are you here?" Said in such a direct, sharp tone. John Paul was used to more evasion from his father, and now felt like he was the one back on his heels.
"I...I don't know. So much of me hates you for what you did to me, to Carmel, to 'chaela. Part of me feels nothing for you, just a numbness, sorta like the space where a loose tooth used to be. Part of me says you're my father, and you wanted to talk to me, you want to try this time. I just..."
He didn't know what else to say. As he lapsed into silence, the seconds lapsed into moments, he felt his father's arm around his shoulder, leading him to the beautiful view from the bridge. They stared out for a few more moments.
"Why don't you tell me about your...I don't know what you call each other, but y'know, Greg."
John Paul rolled his eyes and smiled in spite of himself.
"The name's Craig, and I use that very complex term known as boyfriend."
"Right, Craig. He treating you right? He ever hurt you?"
John Paul's first thought was to rail at his father for the unbelievable arrogance in even asking such a question, but isn't this what he'd always wanted? A father who actually cared? He found himself answering, very hesitantly.
"I'm used to being hurt."
Ricky looked appropriately chagrined.
"I've always known I was different. When I met Craig, I knew for sure what I was supposed to be. No one makes me more furious and nobody makes me happier. I love him, I can't live without him, and if you have a problem with that, I don't wanna hear it."
Ricky smiled at him, with what looked to be a surprising amount of sincerity. John Paul noted all the stories his face could tell.
"Nah...I might not be up with the modern attitudes, but I'm not gonna tell you what you're doing is wrong. It takes a lot of bottle to be what you are, John Paul, to not hide away. I had a cousin, Kevin, he was gay. He never said it, but I knew. Everybody did. He had a job, wife, kids, and still he was the saddest man I ever saw. You coulda been like that, but look at ya now. You're a man. And I know you don't wanna hear it from scum like me, but I'm proud."
John Paul felt his eyes welling up. He hoped he could pass it off as the wind bothering his sinuses. He really didn't want to fall for these lies. They had to be lies. If he believed his father, if he ever had faith in him again, he'd hurt so much the pain would never go away.
"I know you don't believe this either, but I did love your mum."
"Loved her so much that you told 'chaela lies to try to turn her on your side."
"I'm not ever going to hurt you kids like that again, John Paul. I was desperate and had nowhere else to go. It cut me deep, cause I know Myra loves her children, all of 'em. A big part of me wanted to stay with Myra, make a real family, even though I knew your Jacqui and Mercy'd never accept me. I just wasn't strong enough. You, you're strong. Bet you fought for your love. I never could."
"Y-You didn't have to stay with her to see us. You could have still been a dad to us."
"I know, son. And I'll regret it for the rest of my life. That's why I want another chance to show how much I love you and Carmel and Michaela."
John Paul thought to himself that Ricky had spent decades fighting and winning a battle over his greatest love - himself. Ricky had had to do so little for the family he created, the family John Paul's mum had raised. And Ricky had gotten away with it. Even now, with Ricky's arm on his shoulder, Ricky's calm presence radiating and explaining every doubt John Paul had, making John Paul feel like a son who had made him father proud, John Paul wanted nothing more than to forgive him, than to accept him. For the first time in so long, John Paul's father had told him he loved him, and for the first time ever, he seemed to mean it. John Paul, in spite of himself, felt good. He felt more complete.
"Dad..."
The word shocked Ricky, and John Paul even moreso. Ricky looked so pleased, years seemed to fall away from his face. John Paul realized how soft and needy his voice sounded. He didn't want to be this way. He'd spent all his life without a father. He didn't need a father. But he still wanted one.
He remembered the proposal he had for his father. Originally he had planned to try to bribe him to leave town. He'd put all the money he'd saved up with his jobs and tips and being careful, put it all in an envelope. He only kept enough out for some small Christmas gifts for his family and Craig.
"Dad...if it were me...I'd give you a chance. I honestly believe you want to care about us, be there for us. I've given people chances and it's made me happier than I ever dreamed. But this isn't about just me. You hurt my sisters, and my mum. Every time they hear your name, eggshells crack underneath their feet. Every time I talk about you, I can feel their pain. It breaks my heart."
Ricky took a risk and slowly pulled John Paul in for a hug. John Paul didn't have the strength to resist. He hugged his father, for the first time in so long, for the first time since he was a little boy clinging to his daddy's leg, crying for him not to leave.
Finally, he pulled away.
"If you really mean this, Dad, then I'll be there for you. I'm not gonna make Carm and 'chaela see you, or Mum. That's up to them. I'll help you find a place 'round here, a good job. It'll take time, but I know you'll be happier than what you are now."
John Paul actually didn't know that, he knew that the eternal little boy beside him was not exactly likely to suddenly accept being a middle-aged man, but he couldn't give up hope so soon after finally letting it back in again.
He looked at Ricky, really studied him, waiting for a response. He didn't know what would hurt him more, Ricky saying yes or Ricky saying no.
"It'll take me a while to get ready, but I can give it a go."
He couldn't make eye contact with John Paul when he said that. John Paul felt the stings of pain, or maybe of that numbess he had grown to hate. So much grey, so much of not knowing whether to pine for a father or be glad to not have had the hassle. He wanted a father, but he didn't want a dad who didn't want to be there. Didn't want a dad who might steal all his stuff again and leave without telling anyone.
As much as it hurt, John Paul knew he had to do this. For himself and his family.
"There's just one thing, Dad. A...test, I guess you could say."
"Oh, I was never good at tests in school."
John Paul managed a half-smile, blinking back the wave of apprehension and self-doubt.
"This one's easy. Or should be, if you are what you say you are."
He pulled out the envelope. This time, his hand was shaking.
"This is all the money I have. Not a lot, but enough to help you have a merrier Christmas, I'm sure."
Ricky's eyes, often so dim, lit up like a child at Christmas. Even as he tried not to show his glee, his eyes gave him away. John Paul's life seemed to revolve around eyes.
"John Paul, I..."
"One condition. You take this, and we're done. You and me, and you and my sisters. Your daughters. You'll never contact us, and if I find out you have, you'll regret it."
John Paul's tough facade didn't hold up well as his voice cracked. He was supposed to be the tough one here, he really was.
Meanwhile, Ricky's face fell. He was either genuinely conflicted or one hell of an actor.
"Please John Paul, don't make me think about all this at once, please..."
John Paul felt for him, but also felt like this was another con, another game, another lie. Better to make the decision now than to slowly stab himself in the heart day after day.
"Sorry, Dad, it's a one-time deal. You say no, and you've got me, and I'll be there for you no matter what. You say yes, and you've got some fast money and a few less kids to burden yourself with. Just tell me. Yes or no."
John Paul used every ounce of strength he had to get through this moment. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he would soon have an answer.
Pairing: John Paul/Craig
Note: Chapter 1 ( http://jacosta3.livejournal.com/2007/11/08/ ) and 2 ( http://jacosta3.livejournal.com/2007/11/10/ )
--
Craig woke up from a somewhat restless night's sleep wondering why the love of his life had shrunk and covered himself in cloth. With the morning sunlight beaming down on Craig, he finally opened his eyes to see he was close to making out with a pillow.
He tossed the pillow aside and stopped in the bathroom to get ready for the day. As the suds ran down his naked body he thought about the vicious brawls he and his family had experienced over bathroom privileges when they'd briefly stayed in the McQueen home after the fire that had razed their home and pub. So much had changed since then...this place was practically a ghost town compared to that time. His own life felt much emptier of people, yet somehow fuller in accomplishment. He was on his way to a career...eventually, and he had the man he loved. He knew he was lucky, and that was almost enough to overcome the pangs of loneliness he felt as he toweled himself off.
As he looked for his clothes, the mysteriously vanished man showed up wearing nothing more than jeans slung ridiculously low around his hips. If Craig took the time - and Craig did - he could count every hair from John Paul's treasure trail down to...
"Made some breakfast if ya want some. If you're hungry for food, that is."
Hurriedly averting his gaze from his lover's crotch, Craig turned red just in time for the big smirk on John Paul's face.
"You're a right perv, Craig Dean."
"And you wouldn't want me any other way."
John Paul didn't bother to argue that point. He looked so at peace this morning that Craig could hardly fight the sadness creeping up on him as he remembered he was going to tell John Paul that his father had wanted to see him. John Paul quickly noticed his change in demeanor. Before he could ask Craig what was wrong, Craig asked him to sit down on the unmade bed.
"John Paul...I don't really know how to say this so I'll just say it. After you left yesterday, your dad told me he wanted to talk to you around the same time this afternoon. Told me if you didn't show up he'd get the hint and leave town."
John Paul didn't have much of a reaction at first, finally responding with a mournful chuckle, shaking his head in time with the laugh. Craig could sense him freezing up again.
"He's good, isn't he? No angle uncovered. Well, fuck him. I've said all the words I'm gonna say to him."
Craig wanted to leave it at that. John Paul had made his choice. But the young man beside him looked so fragile and empty, as if he hadn't believed a word that had come out of his own mouth. Craig knew he should stay quiet and just go with what John Paul wanted, but if he truly loved John Paul, he would say his opinion.
"John Paul..."
Before he could get more than the name out, John Paul began to make his way off the bed. His innocent face fell, marred with an unexpected hurt.
"Oh no! No way. He got to you, didn't he?"
When John Paul got like this, on the verge of hysteria, Craig often wondered what to do. Sometimes he wondered if anything he did would just make matters worse.
"John Paul, I just thought you'd want my say. Doesn't mean you have to meet him. Just means if I were you, and it were my dad..."
John Paul was now in the middle of putting on his shirt and trying to ignore the man in the room with him, not to mention the elephant in the room. He wasn't successful. He rapidly turned on Craig and gave him that look Craig always preferred to see used for the powers of good, not evil. Like he was going to say something they'd both regret.
"Craig, I used to have a life of my own. A real identity. Yeah, I was a McQueen, and I had to see people's hair turn white when they learned my last name, but I was still the only son. I was me. Now it's always John Paul and Craig. I don't have my own life. I don't have my own room. I don't even have my own mind anymore, Craig."
Craig reeled at the anger in John Paul's voice. He wasn't sure how much was directed specifically at him, but he still felt under attack.
"I can't even have a shred of my own opinion without feeling like I'm letting you down. It's not enough that I got my own baggage with my own dad. Now if I ignore him, for my own well being, then that means I have to carry you and your dad on my back. Oh poor Craig, he can't ever see his father again, so he'd better live through me."
That one hurt.
"Sorry that my pain is such an inconvenience for you."
Craig hissed out most of that last sentence. John Paul's fury finally returned to some of his normal empathy as he saw the pain in Craig's eyes. Craig stopped him before he could apologize. Craig was in no mood for it.
"How do you think I feel, John Paul? I gave up everything for you. Everything."
"You didn't have to!"
"I know I didn't have to, dammit! I wanted to! And now I find out I'm...what? Am I cramping your style, John Paul? You were in love with me for a year and I loved you too. This is what we wanted! It's not easy and we get on each other's backs but that's what we wanted. Or at least it's what I wanted. Or I thought I did."
Craig prepared to bolt from the room until John Paul stopped him. Craig tried to shrug off his arm but John Paul had surprising strength.
"Let me go, John Paul!"
John Paul wouldn't budge, and as they struggled, they fell on the bed. Their bodies intermingled as both boys struggled for dominance, for control. Any rational thoughts were replaced by the feel of their bodies against each other. Craig's towel slipped away and John Paul's denim jeans clawed against his naked hips and midsection, ground against his erection, an erection he didn't even know he had. He angrily unzipped John Paul's jeans and shoved them down his hips as John Paul pulled his shirt over his head. Their naked midsections fought as they had fought a few moments earlier. Blindly. Their mouths crushed against each other, bruising and furious and determined. Craig soon cried out as the delicious friction between them made him erupt. John Paul quickly followed, both boys naked, sweaty, sticky, spent.
As their ardor cooled, they were left with the remnants of hurt feelings. The lust and hate and rage replaced by remorse. They ran their hands over each other's bare chests and hips as a way of apology without having to say the words. Craig wished he hadn't let John Paul see his hurt. He tried to keep his hurt and pain bottled up as often as he could. He was going to go to the bathroom and wash his face when John Paul stopped him.
"I'm so sorry," John Paul whispered, staring at him as he lovingly kissed his chest and then made his way up from his chest. "I love you so much it kills me sometimes, Craig, and I don't know what I'm saying or doing. I'm so sorry I did that to you, Craig." He made his way to Craig's face and kissed and licked away Craig's tears. The tears John Paul had caused. That Craig's own pain had caused. The pain they both tried to heal but could never fully shake.
"I just, I felt like you had taken his side."
Craig clasped John Paul's hand, his lips pressed against the cool flesh.
"You don't have to explain, John Paul."
"Yes I do. I do, Craig. I hurt you badly and part of me wanted to hurt you. I can't ever do that again, Craig. I can't let my father win that way, and I can't use him as an excuse for my bad behavior. Otherwise I'm no better than he is. So yes, I'll go talk to him. All I ask, and please understand why I'm asking, is that you let me go alone."
Craig said nothing. He worried about what this would do to John Paul. Yet he had seen today what happened when he interfered too much.
All he could do was agree, and give his lover a long, deep kiss of comfort and support.
--
John Paul scanned around his room to see if he had everything. Seeing he had, he checked himself in the full-length mirror. He wasn't sure why he felt so nervous. Maybe because he would be without the most important accessory, the accessory which currently had two long yet very toned arms wrapped around his waist.
"Sure I can't getcha to change your mind?" Craig said while slowly making his way up John Paul's neck.
"You're so persuasive you could get me to have it off with Peggy Mitchell."
Craig turned up his nose in an adorably disgusted way, his head resting on John Paul's shoulder.
"You are SICK!"
John Paul watched Craig's bemused reflection in the mirror. He felt like a schizophrenic. Yestday he'd told Craig he only felt like his true self around him. Then today next day he'd told Craig he was suffocating his true self. Now a few hours later, John Paul couldn't imagine even a second of his life without Craig. Yet he needed this moment apart. He had to see his father on his own.
He could watch Craig all day. Some days, that's all he'd done. Yet their relationship had a turbulent side. John Paul had made him cry. He would never do that again if he could help it. He had to face down one of the reasons for all his bitterness and pain. Might not make him feel any better, but he had to try.
Sensing John Paul's melancholy, Craig squeezed him tighter.
"Craig, I love you so much. I really thought I'd get tired of hearing myself say that, but I do."
Craig slid his hand inside John Paul's shirt to tenderly caress his stomach.
"I love you too. And I'll never get tired of saying it or hearing it."
John Paul tilted his head to share a brief kiss with the man holding him, but they were interrupted by a disgusted snort coming from the hallway.
"Well I'm sure sick of hearing it. Like my opinion counts for anything 'round here."
Michaela's studied contemptuousness was followed by Carmel's scatterbrained charm.
"Aw, I think it's sweet! Craig's got that dark hair and those stormy dark eyes and he's well fit, and John Paul's got that light hair and blue eyes, and he's lush, if I can say that about my brother. They even look like the top of a wedding cake! I mean, if they were shrunk down to wedding cake size. Otherwise they'd flatten the cake and get it all on their shoes, and nobody eats flat wedding cake with shoe prints...not unless they're really, really hungry."
Craig was amused, but John Paul was more concerned about Michaela's reaction. She had seemed angry at him since yesterday, her usual sarcasm laced with malice.
"Which one's gonna wear the dress?"
Michaela seemed even more bitter than usual. John Paul began to suspect he knew why. He broke from Craig's grasp and went to face her.
"How did you know?"
Michaela sneered, but never looked him directly in the eye.
"Wot?"
"'Chaela, who told you?"
His tone was soft and sure. Michaela tried to stonewall, but he'd always been able to get through to the scared little girl under that tough exterior.
"I saw ya with Dad...Ricky when I was in Drive'n'Buy. Happy now?"
Carmel looked crestfallen.
"Oh no, John Paul. Don't tell me you fell for him too. I want to have a real Christmas this year!"
Michaela lobbed a furious glare in her direction.
"Oops. Sorry 'chaela."
John Paul sighed. He wasn't sure how to explain this to them when he could barely explain it to himself. As he began to try to figure out what to say, Craig squeezed his shoulder.
"Gonna go downstairs and watch Deal or No Deal with Myra."
Unspoken was the reminder he would be there if John Paul needed him. John Paul thanked him as he quietly left the room.
John Paul closed the door and motioned his sisters to sit next to him on the bed.
"Just hear me out, please."
Carmel looked on in desperate confusion, hanging on any verbal liferaft he was about to give her. Michaela looked like she was going to punch him, or cry. Or, most likely, both.
"Ricky showed up a few days ago. He cornered me yesterday with Craig. I told him I wanted no part of being around him. That was when you saw us, 'chaela. Then he told Craig he wanted to see me again, privately, today. I don't wanna see him, but I have to."
"So you're choosing him over us?" Michaela yelled.
"No." John Paul tried his best to remain calm, because if he lost it, then everything would be lost and he'd have an even more fractured family. "He hurts us all so much. We can't let him have that power anymore. He's like the monster under the bed. I'm gonna go talk to him, tell him what he did to us, tell him how I feel. How we all feel. This is the only chance I might have to actually talk to him."
"But why did he want to see you instead of one of us?"
John Paul didn't know how to answer Carmel's question, but he tried.
"Cause he knows you'd give him what for, and chaela here'd give him a good kicking."
Slight smiles broke through the anxiety of his sisters, telling him his flattery was at least partially successful.
"We got our genes from Ricky Bowen, but that's all. What we are is a family. No deadbat dad's ever gonna change that or come between us."
John Paul put his hands in theirs, squeezing for emphasis.
"What about your boyfriend? Isn't he gonna come between us?" Michaela spat.
Michaela acted so tough, sometimes John Paul forgot just how young and vulnerable she really was. He knew that his relationship with Craig had taken a big part of him away from his family, but he wasn't going to give up the man he loved. Not after all they had gone through.
"Craig agreed to live in this nuthouse. That tells you how much he cares about me. About all of us. Craig's part of our family now. If he treats any of you the wrong way then he'll answer to me, and if any of you treat him the wrong way..."
He didn't have to finish the sentence.
Carmel gave him a deep hug. Michaela eyed him warily, but allowed him to hug her, which was always an accomplishment. His sisters went downstairs, John Paul joining them after looking at his reflection one last time to see if he was doing the right thing.
When he made his way to the living room, Michaela and Craig were fighting over the remote control, while Myra looked at her son nervously, almost mournfully.
"Be careful, luv."
John Paul knew he could take her comment either way.
As John Paul prepared to leave, Craig gave up the epic struggle for the television and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. Then another. As Craig told him goodbye, he wrapped John Paul in his scarf.
"This is your scarf," John Paul whispered, trying not to draw too much attention from his mother and sisters.
"I know. This way I'll be there." Craig smiled, a very complex smile, one of pride, reservation, and most of all, love.
John Paul felt so moved by such a simple gesture. John Paul gave Craig another quick kiss, hurriedly leaving before he began to cry and gave Michaela more reasons to laugh at him.
He was on his way to talk to Ricky. His father. He also had a proposal for Ricky. As he began to make his way to the bridge, he hoped he was doing the right thing.
--
The sky was sunny and clear as John Paul made his way to the bridge to meet his father. He'd been hoping for something more metaphorical for his father's presence in his life, like a constant drizzle. Then again, life rarely worked out the way John Paul expected.
In spite of the bright skies, there was still enough of a chill for John Paul to justify wearing his scarf. He tugged on the fabric briefly, smelling Craig's scent, knowing Craig was waiting at home to make him feel better. He wasn't sure if he was using Craig's scarf or Craig himself as a security blanket, but if it was the latter, then John Paul owned the fittest and warmest security blanket in all the land.
Part of him hoped Ricky had done a runner, and that way John Paul could pat himself on the back for trying and then that was that. His hopes were dashed when he saw Ricky, hands in pockets, anxiously awaiting his arrival. All the times Ricky had been absent when John Paul had needed him to be there, why did he have to show up the one time John Paul needed him not to be there?
When Ricky saw John Paul, Ricky smiled, a grin which seemed torn between genuine happiness at seeing his son and a forced idea of what he was supposed to be. John Paul felt so nervous. He'd had a big speech planned in his head, but this was his father, who by his endless lack of responsibility had been directly responsible for the man John Paul had become.
The men, father and son, studied each other silently, as if they could gain years of memories, hurts, loves, through that simple eye contact. Like Michaela, Ricky had a hard time looking John Paul in the eye. Finally, John Paul stuck out his hand, relieved to find it wasn't shaking. Ricky looked as if he wanted more, yet was smart enough to not ask. Their hands clasped together, and John Paul wondered if those would one day be his hands.
He had very little idea of what to say, so he just spouted the first idea in his head.
"I wanted to ask you how you could abandon me when a boy needs a dad so much, but you'll have some polished-up answer just for me, instead of the truth."
He expected to set Ricky back on his heels, but instead he was greeted with a resigned yet determined face.
"The truth is I was a coward. We both know that. But when I was a boy, having a dad around didn't stop me from growing up in a living hell. Made things worse, actually. I ran away when I was 15. You had a good home. If you'd had a home like mine I'd have never left you, John Paul. You have to believe that."
"I don't have to believe a word out of your mouth," John Paul sneered. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he sensed a grain of truth in Ricky's words. Of course, the best lies had a kernel of truth in them. "Maybe that's what you've told yourself, but it doesn't work on me."
"Then why are you here?" Said in such a direct, sharp tone. John Paul was used to more evasion from his father, and now felt like he was the one back on his heels.
"I...I don't know. So much of me hates you for what you did to me, to Carmel, to 'chaela. Part of me feels nothing for you, just a numbness, sorta like the space where a loose tooth used to be. Part of me says you're my father, and you wanted to talk to me, you want to try this time. I just..."
He didn't know what else to say. As he lapsed into silence, the seconds lapsed into moments, he felt his father's arm around his shoulder, leading him to the beautiful view from the bridge. They stared out for a few more moments.
"Why don't you tell me about your...I don't know what you call each other, but y'know, Greg."
John Paul rolled his eyes and smiled in spite of himself.
"The name's Craig, and I use that very complex term known as boyfriend."
"Right, Craig. He treating you right? He ever hurt you?"
John Paul's first thought was to rail at his father for the unbelievable arrogance in even asking such a question, but isn't this what he'd always wanted? A father who actually cared? He found himself answering, very hesitantly.
"I'm used to being hurt."
Ricky looked appropriately chagrined.
"I've always known I was different. When I met Craig, I knew for sure what I was supposed to be. No one makes me more furious and nobody makes me happier. I love him, I can't live without him, and if you have a problem with that, I don't wanna hear it."
Ricky smiled at him, with what looked to be a surprising amount of sincerity. John Paul noted all the stories his face could tell.
"Nah...I might not be up with the modern attitudes, but I'm not gonna tell you what you're doing is wrong. It takes a lot of bottle to be what you are, John Paul, to not hide away. I had a cousin, Kevin, he was gay. He never said it, but I knew. Everybody did. He had a job, wife, kids, and still he was the saddest man I ever saw. You coulda been like that, but look at ya now. You're a man. And I know you don't wanna hear it from scum like me, but I'm proud."
John Paul felt his eyes welling up. He hoped he could pass it off as the wind bothering his sinuses. He really didn't want to fall for these lies. They had to be lies. If he believed his father, if he ever had faith in him again, he'd hurt so much the pain would never go away.
"I know you don't believe this either, but I did love your mum."
"Loved her so much that you told 'chaela lies to try to turn her on your side."
"I'm not ever going to hurt you kids like that again, John Paul. I was desperate and had nowhere else to go. It cut me deep, cause I know Myra loves her children, all of 'em. A big part of me wanted to stay with Myra, make a real family, even though I knew your Jacqui and Mercy'd never accept me. I just wasn't strong enough. You, you're strong. Bet you fought for your love. I never could."
"Y-You didn't have to stay with her to see us. You could have still been a dad to us."
"I know, son. And I'll regret it for the rest of my life. That's why I want another chance to show how much I love you and Carmel and Michaela."
John Paul thought to himself that Ricky had spent decades fighting and winning a battle over his greatest love - himself. Ricky had had to do so little for the family he created, the family John Paul's mum had raised. And Ricky had gotten away with it. Even now, with Ricky's arm on his shoulder, Ricky's calm presence radiating and explaining every doubt John Paul had, making John Paul feel like a son who had made him father proud, John Paul wanted nothing more than to forgive him, than to accept him. For the first time in so long, John Paul's father had told him he loved him, and for the first time ever, he seemed to mean it. John Paul, in spite of himself, felt good. He felt more complete.
"Dad..."
The word shocked Ricky, and John Paul even moreso. Ricky looked so pleased, years seemed to fall away from his face. John Paul realized how soft and needy his voice sounded. He didn't want to be this way. He'd spent all his life without a father. He didn't need a father. But he still wanted one.
He remembered the proposal he had for his father. Originally he had planned to try to bribe him to leave town. He'd put all the money he'd saved up with his jobs and tips and being careful, put it all in an envelope. He only kept enough out for some small Christmas gifts for his family and Craig.
"Dad...if it were me...I'd give you a chance. I honestly believe you want to care about us, be there for us. I've given people chances and it's made me happier than I ever dreamed. But this isn't about just me. You hurt my sisters, and my mum. Every time they hear your name, eggshells crack underneath their feet. Every time I talk about you, I can feel their pain. It breaks my heart."
Ricky took a risk and slowly pulled John Paul in for a hug. John Paul didn't have the strength to resist. He hugged his father, for the first time in so long, for the first time since he was a little boy clinging to his daddy's leg, crying for him not to leave.
Finally, he pulled away.
"If you really mean this, Dad, then I'll be there for you. I'm not gonna make Carm and 'chaela see you, or Mum. That's up to them. I'll help you find a place 'round here, a good job. It'll take time, but I know you'll be happier than what you are now."
John Paul actually didn't know that, he knew that the eternal little boy beside him was not exactly likely to suddenly accept being a middle-aged man, but he couldn't give up hope so soon after finally letting it back in again.
He looked at Ricky, really studied him, waiting for a response. He didn't know what would hurt him more, Ricky saying yes or Ricky saying no.
"It'll take me a while to get ready, but I can give it a go."
He couldn't make eye contact with John Paul when he said that. John Paul felt the stings of pain, or maybe of that numbess he had grown to hate. So much grey, so much of not knowing whether to pine for a father or be glad to not have had the hassle. He wanted a father, but he didn't want a dad who didn't want to be there. Didn't want a dad who might steal all his stuff again and leave without telling anyone.
As much as it hurt, John Paul knew he had to do this. For himself and his family.
"There's just one thing, Dad. A...test, I guess you could say."
"Oh, I was never good at tests in school."
John Paul managed a half-smile, blinking back the wave of apprehension and self-doubt.
"This one's easy. Or should be, if you are what you say you are."
He pulled out the envelope. This time, his hand was shaking.
"This is all the money I have. Not a lot, but enough to help you have a merrier Christmas, I'm sure."
Ricky's eyes, often so dim, lit up like a child at Christmas. Even as he tried not to show his glee, his eyes gave him away. John Paul's life seemed to revolve around eyes.
"John Paul, I..."
"One condition. You take this, and we're done. You and me, and you and my sisters. Your daughters. You'll never contact us, and if I find out you have, you'll regret it."
John Paul's tough facade didn't hold up well as his voice cracked. He was supposed to be the tough one here, he really was.
Meanwhile, Ricky's face fell. He was either genuinely conflicted or one hell of an actor.
"Please John Paul, don't make me think about all this at once, please..."
John Paul felt for him, but also felt like this was another con, another game, another lie. Better to make the decision now than to slowly stab himself in the heart day after day.
"Sorry, Dad, it's a one-time deal. You say no, and you've got me, and I'll be there for you no matter what. You say yes, and you've got some fast money and a few less kids to burden yourself with. Just tell me. Yes or no."
John Paul used every ounce of strength he had to get through this moment. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he would soon have an answer.