REAL WORLD. I am Alex “Gifter” and the following story has been stored privately since 2020 because it embarrassed me. I wrote it when the forced distancing from covid reminded me of the old teenage fear of AIDS, then the one I felt as soon as I discovered HIV on myself in 2013. Thank you Elettrona for pressuring me “publish it yourself or I’ll share it on my own”.
FANTASY: Mark Wilson’s relationship with his boyfriend Andy rapidly deteriorates because of a third wheel. But perhaps the solution is simpler than expected…
Deteriorating relationship
Despite being tired that night, it was impossible to sleep. “I don’t want to be touched,” Andy’s words kept nagging at me. “…I don’t want you to touch me.” I was the problem, and he had told me so loud and clear.
I rested my head on his pillow to breathe in the smell of his hair; emptiness now surrounded me on the bed where we had slept in each other’s arms for those few wonderful months of living together. I moved to his side of the mattress and closed my eyes until, exhausted, I fell asleep in his scent.
“You’re a piece of trash, a failure,” suddenly I heard a person speak behind my back. “I have no time to waste with fools like you.”
It was an all-too-familiar voice insulting me, and I remained motionless pretending not to do anything, as Andrew had always suggested me in front of bullies who teased us: “if you give them attention they enjoy it, if you ignore them they get tired.”
“Your boyfriend has been sleeping with me for years!” the voice continued getting closer and closer to me, I had the impression I could even feel his breath on my neck. “I’m paying your rent as a charity, a good deed to a poor man we pity!”
I flattened my face on Andy’s pillow like a police dog looking for a trail. No, the smell didn’t help, I had sweated and cried over it myself the whole night, and I had no choice but to surrender to evidence: I would never know if someone dared to occupy our space.
“Then you know what Andrew says about you?” the person behind me spoke in an increasingly malicious tone. “That you don’t last long and he always has to play on his own or ask for my help because you’re a fail!”
“THAT’S ENOUGH, FREDDIE!” Wounded in my pride I let out an angry yell and turned sharply, ready for any reaction. I had already punched bullies in school and would not hesitate to do the same to Freddie Mercury if he insisted on provocation. But when I opened my eyes I realized that next to me was Andy, sitting on my pillow with a newspaper in his hand.
“Hey Mark,” he said with a slight smile. “You’ve gone completely crazy, your brain is still at Wembley!”
“Oh … it’s you,” as soon as I saw him I sighed with relief and reached out to hug him, but he shook his head and quickly walked toward the kitchen, abandoning his newspaper on the pillow.
“What have I done,” I asked myself as I turned toward the door; ”why are you treating me this way…”
There was no answer, just the sink faucet turned on full blast. Something was wrong, it was obvious, and I couldn’t stand that silence any longer. “Andy, come here,” I called to him again but the sound of water covered my voice.
I began to remember one by one the recent events: the songs, the crowd, the bullies who had acted like friends for the only time in their lives, and how fool they looked in front of Queen band’s staff.
Oh, yes, of course! I had yelled at Freddie like the dumbest of mythomaniacs, I, however, never knew how to control my emotions during certain events. And Andy, more gentle and discreet, had instead managed to shake his hand.
My dream might have revealed the truth. Maybe my boyfriend and Freddie shared a bond so deep that it made our relationship seem insignificant? How could I accept that idea, I began considering to end them both.
“I’m not jealous,” I denied my real feelings to both of us; ”Andrew please come back here and let’s talk!”
I heard him turn off the water and move a few steps toward the hallway, but never stopping or saying a word; there was a high fire between us but it was not passion. It was an unbridgeable distance, which made no sense for me.
But that behaviour had to be explained somehow, I knew him too well to believe he’d just stop talking to me; I couldn’t forget the little notes he’d secredly passed me in class.
He would hide them inside pens, in my school diary, sometimes I even found them into my shoes. “That’s it, the newspaper,” I thought; ”he could have left me a message there!” But the moment I looked at it, fear washed over me.
“AIDS. The Gay Plague,” I read in the open page in front of me. They spoke about a mysterious disease destroying lives and hopes for so many young guys like Andy and me, killed by incurable illness and homophobic stigma. Here it all began to make sense: I wasn’t the problem, that article scared my boyfriend to death!
I left the newspaper on our bed and walked slowly, each step was a struggle against my fear. Part of me wanting to hide, part of me determined to face the reality whatever it could be. I breathed deep and finally stepped into the kitchen, where Andy stood in front of the sink, lost in his thoughts.
“Hey,” I called him softly, but he just stood there motionless and silent. Only a few centimeters from me, yet an electrified fence seemed to divide us. “Tell me what’s going on, how can I help you.”
He did not move or look at me, one hand resting on the sink. “Freddie,” he said with half-closed lips. “Freddie and I…”
“Andy and I have shared a bed for years, you are worthless!” Once again Freddie Mercury’s voice filled my head; if it was just a dream, why did it seem so real and scary?
“We were joined, flesh to flesh…” Andy spoke softly, still avoiding eye contact with me. “You hear me, Mark? No protection, Mark, you follow me?”
I moved my hand closer to his shoulder, then to his neck, freezing only at the last moment: “That’s not how it spreads,” I tried to reassure him.
“I don’t even know if that matter is real,” I managed to tell him; ‘’Then what did you do? You only shook hands at the concert, didn’t you?”
His purple face, his hands trembling, once again he remained silent. “I want the truth Andrew!”, I lost my patience and yelled at him, aware of a possible betrayal and its consequences. “You and Freddie, I saw how he looked at you there at Wembley. You’ve known each other for a long time! Fucking tell me, tell me!”
Everything I needed to know was written all over his motionless body. It was as if I could see Andy and Freddie right there on our bed, making love and laughing at me.
I counted to ten to keep from insulting him, embarrassed by my own thoughts. “Forgive me,” I finally told him. “It’s not jealousy, it’s just that… Oh, well, if you shook his hand wothout doing anything else, you’re safe I guess.”
“Hypothesis, just hypothesis! You’re talking about nothing,” he protested. “No one really knows how you can pass it on! Newspapers recommend to avoid contact with strangers, and I don’t want to hurt you! Mark! Who knows if Freddie really has got it? Nobody tells us anything! Nobody explain it clearly!”
As it had come, my anger vanished in an instant. I walked one step toward him and held back my tears; it was inappropriate to be vulnerable, I had to be strong, facing AIDS fear like I dealt with bullies! I didn’t want to disappoint my beloved man!
“Listen,” I used a firm tone. “Imagine about how many people Freddie hangs out with. His staff, the band, other admirers, it would be a fucking gragedy! Come on, Andy, let’s work this out and find a solution! Be reasonable!”
“Oh, if only it were that easy!” He burst into a desperate cry. “Never more kisses, cuddles, love between us because, for gay men, fate is death!”
“NO!” I reached out my arms and drew him to me, in an impulse of rage and despair; “we could even stay locked at home forever, but I don’t want to lose you!”
“You are mad, Mark!” He tried to free himself from my arms and I didn’t let him; his body against mine, our hearts beating in unison again as the magic of our passion came back like at the beginning. “Listen, Andy! If we have to face AIDS, let’s fight it together. But I no longer want to live in fear! Stay with me!”
He held me tight, his body still shaken by sobs; “I face all of this more easily with you,” he whispered, wiping his eyes on my shoulder. “I wish you would yell at AIDS virus what you said to Raymond when he was punching me.”
“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” I broke away from my embrace with Andy and stared at an imaginary spot on the kitchen wall; “show yourself, you miserable thing! Come out you little virus and prove me wrong!”
“How nice it would be if it really could hear us,” he wrapped me in a hug again; ”you and I can only avoid encounters with other gay guys, let’s just stay with each other, fate takes care of the rest.”
“Fuck the fate,” I replied. Inside I felt a new force, a jolt of energy I had been unaware I had. “Andrew! I want to, I have to do something. I can’t just sit on my hands!”
He looked me in the eye, puzzled. “Nothing we can do about it Mark, it’s a dark disease, it’s the devil and we just have to wait for it to knock at our door.”
“I must join the battle,” I sat him on my lap and squeezed him tightly. “I have made up my mind. I’m applying to medical school! I want to do my part, Andy. For you, for us, I will fight against AIDS for our community’s good.”
“Alright, if that’s what you want!” Andrew nodded and laid a hand on my hip; “Medical school isn’t a walk in the park, remember it! But then…”
He shook his head and cleared his throat. “Then there’s Ray, and his father. You know, I wouldn’t ever want them to…”
“That asshole is not going to mess up my life again”, I interrupted him. “He’ll regret every single time he’s harassed me, and I’ll make him look like a complete fool, even more so than he already did at the concert.”
With Raymond continuously bullying me and his father working in healthcare I felt a stronger determination to achieve my goal, but I needed my boyfriend even more. I looked him in the eyes and asked, “Will you always be by my side? That’s all that matters now.”
“Okay, fine,” Andrew replied, rolling his eyes. “I’ll support you whatever happens.”
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