The Trials of Being Loved

Part 22 - Go Away, Orca!

He had read about depression, bipolar, disruptive behaviour and dissocial disorders, and post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). He couldn't believe that even eating disorders enveloped mental health and depression! Tay groaned and looked at the bedroom with it's closed door.

"You've built a solid wall between you and the world, haven't you, Newwie?" He slapped the laptop closed and stood, popping all of his joints. Walking slowly to the kitchen, he thought about everything he learned. 

How long had he been dealing with this alone? Why hadn't he told him? Were they not best friends???

Stigma... It circled around and around in his head, worse because it was in Newwie's own voice. 

"You don't understand, Tay Tawan! You don't know what they will do if they find out!"

He sank down beside the fridge, in his usual spot, hand snaking in to grab a can of beer. As he snagged a can, he took several deep breaths. "Cheers, New!" He sing-songed aloud, but softly, so as to not wake a sleeping polar bear. "Time to get fucked up!" 

The first beer went down fast, as did the second, third and fourth. He wasn't feeling anything yet, nothing, not even a buzz. Tay growled as he got to his knees and crawled, to the cupboard across from the fridge. Stuffed in the back, were several bottles of hard stuff he'd never touched. He'd never needed too, preferring beer. 

Groaning, he pulled one, not even looking at the label, and cracked the seal. He fell back and tipped the bottle, taking a long drink, coughing slightly as it burned the back of his throat and down to his belly. His eyes closed as the numbness hit. 

It didn't take too long before he barely remembered his own name and felt like he was floating. He only wanted ONE thing at this point and he knew what it was:

Newwie in his arms. Newwie was in his bed. Right now, New was in his bed. Tay tried to stand and couldn't, so he crawled across his spotless floor, admiring the clean grain of the wood floor, and reached up to twist the knob. Now tired, he leaned against the frame and waited until his head stopped spinning. 

Time no longer mattered. He had set a goal for himself. He could be with New and not have sex! Finding a new burst of energy, he pulled off all his clothes, letting them fall where they landed in his drunken state, and crawled under the fluffy blue duvet, hauling the sleeping New to his overheated body. 

Sighing now with content, he tucked New into the curve of his body and held him tight. Whispering softly, Tay kissed the top of his head, "You can't leave me. You can't do this, New." and promptly fell asleep in a drunken haze.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was the overpowering smell of alcohol that woke New first, that and the way the bed bounced. He knew, even as the door slammed shut, he'd over-reacted. But that was the nature of the illness. The medication was beginning to work, beginning to bring reason and stability back to his moods but it left him feeling...

Off-center. Like HE wasn't New, it was someone who just looked like him. A duplicate, who couldn't even act properly.

He stiffened up as Tay pulled him close, tucking him neatly. He had been around him drinking, but this was a DRUNK Tay! Drunk men acted differently... 

He waited stiffly, until he heard Tay snoring and tried to wiggle out of the cage of his arms. It failed. Instead, he was pulled tighter to a warm body. Even asleep, he could FEEL Tay's body reacting to his wiggling. 

A warm hand now slid underneath his borrowed tee shirt, sliding up along his torso, caressing his skin and he moaned. A soft "Fuck!" Slipped almost unnoticed from his lips. New knew he had to get out of this bed, now, or something he really didn't want would happen.