Report

Anthony didn't change how he treated me the next morning. He made breakfast and told me he'd set up a few interviews for me. He offered his living room as a place to conduct them, saying he had errands and work so he wouldn't be around until dinner time. With all the talk of 'cult,' I was surprised to be left alone, though I shouldn't have been. The only thing that I'd seen that fit any definition of 'cultish' was the ceremony on the first night. Anthony wasn't depriving me of anything, he wasn't really controlling my movements. As far as the not wandering around indiscriminately, he showed me the places he didn't want me going alone and explained why. I wasn't allowed at the school, obviously, as well as a few construction and preservation sites. As we drove around, the restrictions he placed on my visit were more logical. He never forced me to do anything and he was going out of his way to be out of the house while I interviewed members of his community. Though, I'm sure they were volunteers and deliberately selected. But, I could always nose around and interview others.

Upon meeting the two I was interviewing, the idea that they'd been deliberately chosen to give me a good impression left. One of the guys looked very obviously nervous. His features were delicate, blue eyes, blond hair, almost frail looking as he stared at me. The guy with him was also blond haired and blue-eyed, but darker, muddier colored, more masculine. The delicate guy was Sean and the other guy was Mark. Sean had only been there for two months, Mark for three years. They lived together. They met several years before in a bar. They'd both been with women at the time and had done the drunk-kissing thing, only neither of them had been drunk at the time. They'd made out in the bathroom at the bar and had talked their girlfriends into a foursome. They'd kept in contact afterwards. Mark realized that he really wanted to be with Sean and not with a woman and moved to Sedona. Sean was still in a relationship and not ready to take that final step yet. He'd visit a few times a year, though. After his last visit, about four months before he moved, he missed Mark too much to stay away. They were still getting used to living together, but were very happy.

They were very open with me as we talked; answering my questions, even ones I wondered if they were too personal. It struck me that they were in love, genuinely in love with each other. I wasn't a big believer in love at first sight, but they were proof of it, or at least what could happen if initial attraction was followed through on.

After they left, I had time to think while I put my notes into the system and did some research into legalities and my host. I found the articles on him with relative ease. He'd been accused of living with another man, something that was so extremely frowned upon that it was never done. Guys just never lived together. Even dorm rooms in college were single rooms.

Though the other guy's name wasn't in the official reports, the tabloids named a popular star. I remembered his career faltering until he'd been married by a producer and things settled out. I didn't usually cover entertainment, though, since it was a highly desirable position so I hadn't been fully aware of the details. It made sense, though, in retrospect.

The legalities of the situation were an altogether different story While public displays of 'affection' between two guys were acceptable as well as any type of relationship between women, it was a surprise to me to find that relationships between guys were legally regulated except in certain areas, Sedona being one of them. Each of the eight communities listed in the laws were surrounded by mystery. I had known that guys living together was frowned upon, but I hadn't known it was actually illegal except in those eight communities. The more I read, the worse I felt.

My thoughts returned to my interview as I read more. Sean was obviously in love with Mark and still afraid of the consequences. The law actually listed 'offences' by degrees of intimacy and punishments for them. The talk I'd had with Anthony the night before could land us both in jail for one month. Sean and Mark's talking their girlfriends into a foursome could be punished by a year in prison. Entering into an exclusive sexual relationship merited life in prison or the death penalty.

Research on the origin of the law was trickier than I thought it would be, thought I should have expected it to be given how hidden the law itself had been. It'd taken me a couple of hours to dig it up and I was a good researcher.

Even stranger, to me, was that I should have been repulsed by the thought that Sean and Mark were lovers, but seeing them together, I just could bring myself to be. They felt good together, as weird as that sounded. They were both considerate of each other, though that may be because they were relatively new couple, even though they've known each other for several years.

I was staring at my monitor, trying to sort out my thoughts and reactions when Anthony knocked on the door frame. I looked over my shoulder, startled since I hadn't heard him come in and had lost track of time.

“Are you ready for dinner? I picked up some pizza on my way home.”

“Oh, yeah. I was just thinking.” I looked over at my laptop and the screen was dark. I couldn't remember if it had been that way when Anthony came in or not. I closed the lid and followed him out of the room.

“What did you think of Mark and Sean?” he asked me on the way to the kitchen.

We were seated before I answered him. “I liked them. Sean seemed afraid of his own shadow, though.”

“It was his request to be interviewed. He seemed to think it would be some kind of therapy.”

My eyebrows went up at that but I didn't say anything. Instead, I said, “I found the law that allows for this town and seven others.”

He gave me a wry look. “Bet that took a while.” At my nod, he continued, “We're trying to get it overturned or modified. We're trying to gradually bring about equality. But change is frightening to those in charge, so we're going for small changes. If the town incorporates as a city, then we have legal footing, but there's the chance we may lose our status as a 'refuge town' by becoming incorporated, too. One of the bad things about trying to change things and being in one town is there is only one target if we 'get out of hand.'”

I could feel myself to pale as I nodded that I understood. 'I brought you into this world...' went through my mind as clearly as if it had been said aloud. “My article is a way to help your cause. That's what you think?” And though it shouldn't have, it hurt to say that. It shouldn't matter if he was just using me to for something I could do for him.

“Partially,” he admitted.

“What do you mean by that?” I demanded, my eyes on the table. I hated feeling off-balanced.

“Even if the article comes to naught, I don't think your being here is a waste of time or unpleasant.”

I looked up at him. “Why?” I challenged.

Anthony smiled. “Because, if nothing else, I've had the opportunity to meet you and gain a friend.”

I had to look away. For some reason, that comment made me feel like he was coming on to me. It was worse that I felt almost flattered by it. I should be insulted, angry. I wasn't. I felt strangely warm and awkward. “Thanks for talking to me,” I muttered while staring hard at the table.

“That's what friends do,” he replied.

Not knowing what else to say, I turned my attention to eating. The rest of the meal was both comfortable and awkward in its silence.

After dinner, we both moved to the living room. He told me about his time in Los Angeles, confirming what had been in the reports and adding details that hadn't. He also told me about what he'd done while making the journey between LA and Sedona. There were places where he was obviously still upset. He'd stop and take a deep breath, closing his eyes a moment before continuing. He concluded his story by saying, “My former lover is married. His wife had twins. He's very happy without me.”

Without thinking, I reached over and pulled him into my arms. At first, he resisted and then let me hold him. I couldn't have explained why, but it seemed to be the right thing to do. He didn't cry, I think, just let me hold him.

“How long ago did you last talk to him?” I asked when it felt okay to talk again.

“Almost three years ago. He said he'd contact me again if there was anything else to say.” After a short pause, he added, “The twins were six months old at the time.”

I held him a little longer before I could think of anything else to think of to say. “Are you still in love with him?”

He took a deep breath. “I still love him, but I'm not in love with him anymore. I am happy he is happy. There are times when I think 'I wish it could have been with me,’ but those times are now few and far between.”

“You haven't found anyone here?” I asked softly, though I don't know why I wanted to know.

“I've had offers, taken up a few of them, but nothing serious, yet.” He relaxed into me a little more. His weight was weirdly pleasant. “I'm sure someone will show up some day. I'm not in a hurry. Things are good here and I do keep busy.” His voice sounded loggy with sleep.

I couldn't make him move. It was comforting, reassuring. I should have been repulsed, disgusted by his closeness, by our conversation. I'd just met him and we were discussing things I'd never discuss with my best friend. I didn't know how much time passed, but I was a little bereft when he pushed away.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you." He returned to the far side of the couch.

I shrugged. "It's okay." I'd spent the time trying to figure out what was wrong with me and still hadn't reached an answer.

"I guess I'll call it an early night," he mumbled, pushing himself up. "Thanks for letting me talk."

I stood. "Thanks for listening to me, too."

He hugged me.

It felt good. I wrapped my arms around him, returning the embrace. Before it could go any farther, he left the room.

I wanted more, though. My lips ached for him to kiss me. I went into my room and tried to clear my mind by recording our conversation. When I managed to sleep, I dreamed of kissing him, of holding him close. They faded into darkness before things got farther than that.

I should have been repulsed. They should have been nightmares. I should have woken screaming in horror. But, I woke up with a raging hard-on. What was wrong with me? Was I still reacting just because I'd been dumped? This was fucked up. I couldn't summon the anger I needed to get rid of the horniness that demanded my attention with each heartbeat. I went into the bathroom and started a shower.

I stepped in while it was still cold and that did almost nothing to ease the fire in my veins. I bit my lip and took matters in hand, trying to keep my mind blank. It was just a physical need, after all.

It didn't help my case any at all that Anthony's face flooded my mind as I came.

What was wrong with me? Why was I more upset that I wasn't upset?

The rest of the shower was devoted to me trying to clear my head. By the time I left my room, I could put the whole thing down to temporary insanity and rebound.

Anthony was drinking a cup of coffee when I came into the kitchen He let me pour myself a cup and join him at the table before telling me he'd be gone for the day and had set up another interview for me and arranged for an escort for me if I wanted to go out. His hair was pulled back into a braid, making his face more noticeable. I almost missed what he said because I was so focused on his face. The more I saw, the more I liked what I saw.

"Steve, are you listening?" he asked softly.

"Yes, you said I had an interview at ten and Richard Thomas would be able to show me around after if I wanted to go out."

He looked at me a long time before he said anything else. "I'll be home late, so you're on your own for dinner. There's food in the fridge or you can order in or you can go somewhere with Richard."

I don't know why, but that hurt to hear. I knew he had to be busy. I should have expected it. Had I already, after only a few days, come to rely on his presence that much? "All right," I said, trying to keep my voice light.

He looked down at his coffee cup. "I...didn't expect to be so unguarded around you. We both need some time apart. I don't want to force you into anything."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what type of impression I wanted to leave him with. So, I ended up saying nothing and he left without looking at me again.

The interview was with two older guys. They'd moved to Sedona twenty years ago and had met here. The only real surprise I got from them was they knew about the law I'd found. They both had served terms as council members and were lawyers before they came, a job they still performed when needed, mostly to help new arrivals.

Robert Thomas called on me while I was typing up my notes. He was twenty, friendly and eager to meet me. I got the impression of a golden retriever or a lab puppy from him. He came to Sedona when he was twelve, joining his father. He was also enamored with Anthony, his word, and wanted to be a writer. He was eager to please and happy go lucky. And utterly draining to be around.

I'd never been so glad to see the back of someone I liked. He dragged me to dinner and I begged off any more saying I needed to make notes.

I sat on the bed, my laptop actually on my lap, and the bedroom door open. I didn't want to pressure Anthony into talking to me, but I wanted to at least see him. I realized I was being stupid. I didn't care. I could be stupid. It's not like anyone else would see.

I was full of justifications, of reasons. And, I was asleep before he came home. I think I woke up a little bit when he was taking my laptop away. I think I remember a couple of other things, but I'm not sure how awake I actually was. I haven't asked for confirmation yet, either. Maybe someday, I will.

I woke up, still dressed as I had been but under the covers and my laptop was on the desk again. I felt rested, too.

But the next week continued in pretty much the same fashion. I'd see him in the morning, he'd tell me what he'd set up for the day. Robert would be my afternoon companion and I'd fall asleep waiting for Anthony to get home.

I tried getting up earlier, but then Anthony would leave earlier.

It was actually ten days of this before I demanded, "Are you trying to avoid me?"

Anthony looked at me and then looked away, embarrassed. "Yes, but for your own good."

I went over to the table and pulled out a chair. "What do you mean?"

He looked at me and back at his coffee. "I told you, we don't seek 'converts' nor to we coerce anyone to stay here."

"And?" I pressed.

He drained his cup. "You talk in your sleep." The way he said it made me think my half remembered dreams weren't dreams. "You're also still recovering. It's better if I just allow you to do your job."

I knew he was right. I didn't like it. I scowled at the table. "And, so avoiding me is the best answer?"

He stood up and went to the sink. "It's the only answer.

To this day, I don't know what possessed me. I went over to the sink, turned him around so that he was facing me and kissed him. Really kissed him. He didn't resist nor did he return the kiss. That was worse than anything he could have done. If he'd fought back, that would have been something. If he'd returned the kiss, that would have been something. But nothing was nothing.

I felt like an ass. I ran from the kitchen and locked myself in my room until he left. How could I be so stupid?

I tried to drown myself in a shower and failed at that as well.

I called Robert to get the number of the guys I had scheduled to interview so I could reschedule them. I also asked him to not come over. I needed a day off. I spent the day in bed.

Anthony came home earlier than he had been. He knocked on my door. "Steve, we need to talk about this morning."

I dragged myself to the door. I'd began packing when I could make myself move, figuring I'd either be asked to leave altogether or stay somewhere else. I opened the door but didn't say anything.

Anthony frowned at me. "You look like shit."

"I have an honest face," I muttered.

"We really need to talk about this morning," He said again.

"I'll leave if you want me to."

This is quite possibly the worst part of this story for me. I don't want to tell it, but you have come this far. How can you understand what came before and what will come after if I don't tell you this part. I'd rather not, though. What follows is a very abbreviated version of what happened.

"You can't be that stupid," he replied.

I frowned at him. "What do you mean 'that stupid?' I...I...did...why would you want me to stay here? After that?"

He sighed. "Asshole, you really have no idea, do you?"

"Listen, fucker, how dare you--" I never finished what I was going to say.

Anthony kissed me, hard, and then slapped me.

"The fuck?" I spluttered and punched his stomach. As he doubled over, I pulled his hair and brought his mouth to mind.

He kissed me like he needed to get through me and then pushed me away. "I hate that I'm falling in love with you!" he screamed at me. "I hate that I want you more than I've wanted anyone! I hate that you can't love me back!" He fell to his knees, his hands on the floor as he seemed to collapse on himself. "I hate you for coming here," he whimpered. "I hate myself for falling in love again."

I stared at him, completely at a loss. What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to say? How was I supposed to feel?

When I could move again, I knelt next to him. His forehead was on the ground. I stroked his hair, still in a braid. I still couldn't think of anything to say. I didn't even know what I wanted. I leaned against the wall, stroking his head as I did. I couldn't not touch him.

He rolled to his side so his back was pressed against my leg. He was quiet, just resting. His head was by my knee, harder for me to stroke his hair, so I let my hand rest on his hip.

"I'm not going to apologize," he said softly.

I still couldn't think of anything to say.

"I've been trying to fix myself. You're not one of us. I can't love you."

I should have said something, anything, but I couldn't. I kept rubbing his hip, hoping he'd say something else. Neither of us spoke the rest of the night. I fell asleep after a while and I'm not sure when he did.

When I woke up, his head was in my lap. I still didn't know what to say when he looked up at me. "I don't hate you," I heard myself say before I'd really thought about it.

His face relaxed. He didn't smile, but I could see him relax just a tiny bit. There was still tension in his face, though. I didn't know what else to say, though.

Anthony sat up. "This isn't like me." He rubbed his face. I could hear him sigh. "The last time I really lost control was in college. My only excuse for that is I was drunk." He was facing away from me, his knees to his chest.

I reached out and touched his arm. "That's completely off the record," I told him when he looked at me.

It isn't in my notes for the month. Not a word of what was said or done. Yet, it is seared into my memory. I can recall every word, every action. As I said, the above is very abbreviated, the beginning and the end. The entire time, from when he said we needed to talk to the time we left the room for food was twelve hours. Given how much they changed my life, I should devote more time to those hours, shouldn't I? All that really needs to be added is that the fight took about half the time and we only slept for a couple of hours. I know this only because I know what time he came in and I know what time we left the room to eat. I may have other times wrong, but there was a great deal more to our fight. The above is a good summary.

We left the room for breakfast, food of some sort. We were both emotionally raw and feeling awkward around each other. He cooked by dint of I still didn't know where much of anything was.

While we ate, he asked me about my research. We talked about generalities, painfully distant things that were easier to deal with than what went on in the room. We hadn't reached any kind of understanding or stability. We just needed to eat. We had obligations to meet, as well.

We were both so careful around each other for another week. I wanted something more...another fight, more kissing. Anything would be better than the eggshells we walked on.

But, the next step was mine. I had a decision to make. I knew it. The ball, as the saying goes, was in my court. If I could decide, that is. I had two weeks to decide the course of the rest of my life. I began working on the articles, kept up with the schedule of interviews, talked, actually talked to Richard.

He became less annoying as I let myself get to know him. The things he said started making sense. He moved here as a child, so it was normal to him that guys should be together.

He'd gone to community college in Phoenix and had been asked out a few times by one woman in particular. They'd dated and he was trying to decide if he could leave Sedona to live with her or if he belonged in Sedona. It was a surprise to me that he brought it up about a week after Anthony and I had our fight.

"Do you love her?" I asked. We were eating dinner at a diner in the center of town. Anthony had told me that he'd be late that morning.

He looked at me and then his plate. "I dated here, in high school," he began. "My first kiss, first time, all that, was with another guy. I like kissing her. I love feeling her arms around me. I love being with her, but I don't know what to do." His face was bright red when he looked back up at me. "I'd have to leave my home, leave everything I know and go to her, live in her world. Here, I have a place I belong. What would I have there? It's not easy, leaving everyone and everything you know for something that might not work out, you know?"

I understood more than I wanted to. "I suppose it comes down to if you think what might be between you is worth the risk. I’m sure you'd be allowed back, if the worst came to pass." Would I? "Everything is a risk, Richard. There's a cost, a sacrifice to be made. Is the benefit worth the risk? But there's also gain. Is what you'll gain worth what you might lose?"

He looked at me, serious for the first time. He actually seemed to be thinking about what I said. His seriousness started me thinking as well. Or, it brought what Id been thinking about into focus more. He didn't say anything for the rest of the meal, nor did he escort me home. It was the longest I'd been with him that he didn't say something.

Anthony was home when I got there. He was still eating so I sat at the table with him.

"How was your day?" he asked before I could.

"Pretty good, yours?" I wanted to talk to him about Richard, but felt awkward about it, too.

"Busy," he sighed.

I wasn't sure what would make a good transition or if there was a good one. I decided to just launch into the topic. "Richard told me he was in love with a woman."

Anthony nodded. "I was hoping he'd talk to you about that.

"Oh?" I wasn't sure how I felt.

"He's been agonizing about it for months. When he heard you were coming, he asked to be allowed to guide you around. We knew it was so that he could talk to you." He looked over at me. "If it's not too personal, what did you tell him?"

"I asked him if he loved her, told him no matter what, he'd have to give something up and it was a matter of deciding what he was willing to give up and what he wanted."

"Risk versus benefit?" At my nod, Anthony said, "Thank you for not telling him to do one or the other. It's better if he makes up his own mind."

"That's a lot of trust to put in an outsider," I said flatly.

Anthony said nothing. He turned back to his meal and began pushing food around on the plate.

"It felt like I was talking to myself," I added when he was getting up.

He dropped the plate he had just picked up and collapsed the few inches he'd risen. "What?" he demanded though it sounded like he was struggling to talk.

I looked at the table. "I felt like I was talking to myself. I have a decision to make." He started to interrupt, but I continued over him. "There is something between us. I know you feel it or you wouldn't have said what you did. It's up to me now."

"I wasn't trying to--"

"I know," I cut him off. "If...if there weren't something..." I shook my head. "If I were repulsed or disgusted, that'd be one thing. It'd be simple, then." I slumped down in the chair until my chin was on the table. "But, I'm not. I'm confused. I'm more upset that I'm not disgusted than anything right now." I covered my head with my arms.

It seemed like forever before he said anything, but what he said was just what I needed to hear. "I won't force you to make a decision and I'll accept whatever you decide as long as it really is what you want. And, regardless, I'll count you as a friend."

Blindly, I reached out and found his hand. We sat at the table a long time before we both got up. He took care of his dishes and I went to my room. I made notes and spent the rest of the night staring at the dark ceiling. My thoughts were everywhere and nowhere. I couldn't pin anything down. It was almost four in the morning when my eyes finally closed.

Richard asked if we could stay at the house and talk the next day. If I'd known why, I may have insisted on going out. Or not. I'm not entirely sure. He wanted to watch porn and ask questions about how 'realistic' it was. I don't want to give the impression I'm prudish. I've watched porn with my girlfriends and by myself, but never with another guy. Added to that, the strangeness of answering questions about the differences between what was on the screen and my experiences for someone who really wanted to know was odd.

I could remember how weird it had been to talk to my dad about sex. This was much worse. This wasn't theoretical 'if...then' conversations I'd had with Dad. This was a practical 'if...then.' By the time he left for the day, I didn't think I'd be able to look anyone in the eye ever again. I don't think he'd reached a complete decision, but I really hoped he didn't need me anymore to make it. His comments of 'oh, that's like what you'd do with a guy' or 'that doesn't work with another guy' didn't help any at all.

I was face down in the couch when Anthony came home. "You okay?" he asked when he found me.

"Richard had porn and questions today," I said without lifting my head.

I felt him sit on the couch. "Sex ed is part of the curriculum, of course."

"It's never practical!" I whined. "My dad had it easy. I didn't show up with porn and a million questions."

Anthony laughed. When I glared at him, he waved his hands. "I'm sorry, but it is funny. Especially the look on your face."

I glared at him more and that only made him laugh harder. "You're not helping!" I grumbled.

He leaned over, still sniggering and pat my head. "Sorry about that."

"No, you're not." I managed to push myself up.

"I am," he protested around a giggle. "What can I do to prove it to you?"

"Kiss me," I said before I thought about it.

His eyes widened and the laughter stopped. "You're sure?"

I wanted to vanish into the couch, but I also wanted a real kiss from him. "Yeah," I said, hoping I was the only one to hear the tremor in my voice.

"Just a kiss," he said. The way he said it sounded like he wanted a lot more and was putting a limit on himself. He crawled across the couch, bracing himself against the arm and back as he leaned in.

His lips were soft, warm, alive, so very unlike our kisses in the fight. I wanted to hold him and couldn't move. I wanted so much more. I wanted to pull him back when he moved away, returning to the far end of the couch. Never before had just a kiss done so much to me.

He rose. "I'll make dinner."

All I could do was nod. My eyes followed him until he was out of the room. Then I fell face first into the couch again. My heart was racing and I could feel myself shaking. Was I...? I couldn't make myself finish the question. I was too afraid of the answer. It probably wasn't fair of me to ask him to kiss me when I couldn't even ask myself that question.

I manage to get myself back under control by the time Anthony called me in to dinner. I directed the conversation to what he'd done during the day. I was inordinately proud of myself for being able to have a normal conversation and it did much to calm me.

After dinner, I did dishes and went into my room to work. The less I thought, the better. I had one of the five articles written and started on the second.

I fell asleep at the desk. When I woke up, a blanket was draped over my shoulders and my light was off. Warmth filled me as I pulled the blanket closer around me and moved to the bed. I didn't bother crawling in, just curled up on it.

I had three interviews the next day so I didn't see Richard at all. When I saw Anthony in the morning, it was actually remarkably comfortable to be with him. There wasn't any tension, our conversation flowed easily. The only bit of awkwardness was when he left for the day. I wasn't sure what I'd be allowed to do. I wanted to hug him, to kiss him again. He solved the problem by hugging me quickly on his way out.

A/N: So, yay, awkwardness abounds :D