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Artwork by Lademonessa
Tommy walked into the living room with a smile on his face and the spare baby monitor in his hand, “Our wife and children are sound asleep. Your son is passed out in his bed and as about as charming as you were at that age.”
Felicity and the twins had only been home from the hospital for three days and her husbands were trying to keep the chaos to a minimum. Bringing a drunken teenager to a home with four small children was far from ideal, but William had been so drunk they’d decided it wouldn’t be safe to leave him sleep it off in his dorm. Oliver looked up from the photo frame he held. He’d been staring at it ever since they’d returned home from picking William up from his first college party. The photos that covered the walls and tabletops of their home had always filled him with a sense of warmth, but tonight they were making him feel anxious, “It’s not funny.”
“Come on, Ollie,” Tommy flopped onto the sofa, “it’s kind of funny.”
“My ninteen-year-old son was too drunk for an Uber driver to take him home,” Oliver’s gaze returned to the frame that held a picture of him and Tommy from when they were sixteen. “I don’t think it’s funny, at all.”
The smile fell from Tommy’s face and he leaned forward, “What’s going on? You were channeling the G.A. tonight. You were way too angry for a drunken teenager.”
“He was out with a girl,” Oliver responded.
“I know, I was there when we picked them up and dropped her back at her dorm.” Tommy reached out towards Oliver and gestured for him to join him. “She, at least, had the good sense to stop after one beer.”
The sight of his 6’2” son staggering down the sidewalk with his arm draped around a woman shorter than Felicity had made his heart race and his hands go clammy. Oliver sat down next to Tommy, “He had no business being that drunk on a date.”
“I don’t think it was a date. She told me that they’re in some classes together and she ran into him at the party and wanted to make sure he got home okay,” Tommy rested his hand on Oliver’s leg. When his husband scoffed, Tommy narrowed his eyes at him, “Why don’t you just tell me what’s bothering you because you can’t really be this upset about William? He’s only been at college for a month and he had too much to drink. At least he had enough sense to call you and ask you for a ride and not try to steal a police car.” When his remarks failed to elicit even the faintest of smiles, he gently took the frame from Oliver’s hand, “What’s going on?”
Oliver tapped the glass covering the picture and watched Tommy carefully, “Do you remember when this photo was taken?”
Tommy looked at the picture and smiled, “It was your sixteenth birthday and the day we won the division finals.”
Oliver remembered taking the photo like it was the day before. They’d run triumphantly off the field to say hello to his parents and Thea. Eight-year-old Thea had held up her dad’s camera and insisted on taking a picture. They’d both removed their hats and Oliver had slung a casual arm around Tommy’s neck and they were grinning broadly at their little sister. Oliver remembered being happy. It was one of the few times he’d given his parents a reason to be proud of him when he was growing up. He took the picture back and traced Tommy’s sixteen-year-old smile, “You were so handsome.”
Tommy smiled gently, “I’d like to think that I still am.”
Oliver laughed softly and continued to stare at the picture, “God, the things that smile used to do to me.” He looked up at Tommy with tears in his eyes, “The things it still does to me.”
“Hey,” Tommy squeezed his husband’s hand, “talk to me.”
“Do you remember what happened that night?” Oliver wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
A blush spread across Tommy’s cheeks, “I threw a pretty epic party for you.”
“Yeah,” Oliver let out a shaky breath and stood up as he remembered their night in the pool house after the party had ended, “it was epic.” He returned the frame to its spot on the table and picked up a photo from their high school graduation. That night had also ended with a blowout party at the Merlyn mansion. Laurel’s grandparents had been in town and she’d been unable to attend the party so Oliver had been free to misbehave without her disapproving glare. He turned the photo so Tommy could see it, “How about what happened that night? Do you remember it?”
“I do.” Tommy stood up cautiously, “Seriously, Ollie. What the hell is going on?”
Oliver put their graduation picture down and picked one up from their time at Harvard. It was a picture of them playing soccer along the Charles, “How about this one?” He picked up another photo of them from a black tie gala hosted by his mother. They were twenty and Tommy had come home to visit because Oliver had been thrown out of Yale, “Or this one? Do you remember what happened after this picture was taken?” He moved to pick up another photo when Tommy’s hand landed on his.
Tommy took the pictures from Oliver and placed them back on the table. He gestured over the photos, “I remember all of this. Is something going on? Do you not remember?” Tommy asked with growing concern.
That was the problem. Every single moment captured and displayed in their home was burned into his memory. Oliver pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes, “God, yes. I remember.”
“I’m noticing a theme about all of these photos,” Tommy’s hand landed over Oliver’s heart. “Is there a reason why you’re thinking about nights we fooled around?”
Oliver dropped his hands and walked across the living room. “I don’t remember having sex with Samantha.”
“I know,” Tommy’s eyes were pinched with concern.
“None of it, Tommy. I don’t remember meeting her at the party. I don’t remember kissing her or convincing her to go to my dorm. She told me that I was the first guy to ever go down on her. I don’t remember it. I don’t remember if I used a condom and it tore or if I was so wasted I didn’t even think to use one.”
“Did William say something to you when I walked his friend to her door?”
Oliver shook his head. He pointed to the armchair, “Samantha sat in that chair and told me that if I pursued custody of William she would tell the courts that there was dubious consent the night he was conceived.”
Tommy reared backwards in surprise before he moved closer. In a low voice he asked, “Oliver? Did she say you?”
Tommy’s reaction was his worst fear. Oliver’s face crumpled, “You think it’s possible?”
“Do I think you’d ever force yourself on a woman? No.” Tommy said with tears in his eyes. “Do I think you had a lot of sex under the influence? Yes, I know you did.”
Oliver’s chin dropped to his chest, “My last visit to Central City, right before William started college, she told me that she’d had a few drinks but she was only buzzed that night. She told me that she’d felt guilty for all of these years because I’d had too much to drink and I’d been upset about Laurel and that she was the one who suggested we go back to my room.”
Tommy hummed and folded his arms across his chest. Oliver looked up in surprise. He wasn’t sure what reaction he’d expected, but it wasn’t Tommy acting like it was old news, “What?”
“Ollie, it was no secret. All the girls knew that if they wanted to sleep with you they only needed to wait for you to have a fight with Laurel and get drunk,” Tommy said apologetically. “You were always super responsive to a pretty girl who paid you even the slightest amount of attention.”
“Except I was 6’2” and one hundred and eighty pounds,” Oliver said angrily. “It didn’t matter that I was drunk. I still had the physical power to overwhelm any of them.”
Tommy moved to Oliver’s side, “I don’t remember anyone ever saying that you forced them to do anything. There were never even rumors about you. Where is this coming from?”
“My mom paid Samantha a million dollars to make a baby go away. How much do you think she would’ve paid to make a rape go away?” Oliver surprised himself with the question. He’d never actually thought that it was a possibility before, but he also knew that his mother had concealed murders and a rape allegation would’ve been something she’d have done anything to keep quiet.
Tommy’s eyes widened in alarm, “Has someone come forward? Have you been contacted by a lawyer or the press?” Tommy removed his cell from his pocket.
Oliver’s hand covered Tommy’s, “You don’t need to call our lawyers. No one has come forward with any accusations.” He sighed, “Seeing William like that tonight, just brought back some things I’m not proud of. I don’t want him to be anything like me.” Having five children had made Oliver even more conscious of his youthful destructive behaviors and how few limits his parents had placed on him. He loved his children and he wanted them to be loved and to be happy but he also wanted them to be good people. Before the Gambit, he’d not been a good person. He’d been reckless and selfish and seeing his nineteen-year-old son in his drunken condition had hit too close to all of the things Oliver hated most about himself at that age.
Tommy cupped Oliver’s cheek, “If you’re worried about William’s behavior tonight. Talk to him about it. Tell him why you think excessive alcohol, girls and sex don’t mix. Talk about consent. He’ll listen to you.”
Oliver’s stomach roiled with fear. Consent was the very thing he was worried about. It was something that had been eating away at him since Samantha had brought it up but he’d never had the courage to voice. “Tommy?” Oliver took a shuddering breath, “You said I never forced a woman. Did I ever force you?”
“What?” Tommy’s hand dropped from Oliver’s face and his brows lifted with shock.
“I can count on one hand how many times you and I kissed or fooled around while sober before the Gambit went down.” Oliver stepped away from Tommy. “You were always drunk or high, hell, I’m the one who usually gave you the drugs that made you high. I was almost always – no – I was always the one who instigated our hook-ups. Once I was twelve, I was bigger and stronger than you.”
“Oliver, are you honestly asking me if you ever raped me?” Tommy asked with tears running down his face.
Oliver backed further away from his husband and wrapped his arms around his chest. He couldn’t tell from Tommy’s reaction whether or not his husband was about to tell him that he’d been a victim of his. He nodded as tears flowed freely down his face, “Yes. I think I am.”
Tommy’s response was immediate, “No, you never raped me. No, you never forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do.”
Oliver began to cry with relief. Tommy wrapped his arms around his husband and kissed his neck, “How long have you been carrying this?” Oliver wrapped his arms around Tommy’s back and held him tightly as he sobbed. Tommy stroked his head and whispered soothing words against his ear.
“When Samantha said, dubious consent, to me,” Oliver pulled back to look Tommy in the eye, “you were the only person I thought of.” Even now, at forty-two, he could still see fifteen-year-old Tommy looking at him with big blue eyes full of trust. Tommy would open up his mouth and accept whatever drug Oliver placed on his tongue without question. He always had power over Tommy and he’d used it for his own desires. His voice broke as he said, “The first time I gave you E, I did it because I wanted you to kiss me.”
“I didn’t need drugs to make me want to kiss you,” Tommy used his thumbs to wipe the tears from Oliver’s eyes.
“But I gave you drugs so that you would,” Oliver felt sick as he admitted it.
“And I let you, because I wanted you to kiss me and I knew that the only way that you would is if you were high and thought I was too.” Tommy kissed Oliver gently, “We used drugs and alcohol as our crutch. We weren’t queer if we only fooled around when we were high. It was a lie we told ourselves so we could be ourselves.”
Oliver shook his head at his husband’s words of reassurance, “It doesn’t matter if you wanted to kiss me. I gave you drugs so that you would kiss me – so that you’d be more willing to fool around. I made it harder for you to say no.”
Tommy ran his hand over his face and sighed, “Oh, Ollie.”
“I’m sorry,” Oliver dropped his forehead to Tommy’s.
“For what?” Tommy stroked Oliver’s cheek. “I never regretted our nights together. You kissing me, touching me, rubbing on me,” Tommy grinned, “I loved every second of it. It was always the morning after I hated, when you’d shut down and pretend like nothing had happened.”
“I made you feel used,” Oliver said guiltily as Tommy reminded him of another of his many sins.
“No, you never made me feel used. I did feel sad and sometimes angry because I wished we didn’t have to live in fear of what other people would think, but never used.” Tommy pressed another kiss to Oliver’s lips, “I knew that you loved me. Even when you were sleeping with Laurel and all of those other girls, I always knew how you felt.”
“I always did love you,” Oliver said truthfully. “My whole life, I’ve loved you.”
“I know,” Tommy’s face softened with a smile, “and I’ve loved you for mine. I didn’t always like you,” Tommy teased with a wink.
Oliver huffed a small laugh, “Fair enough.”
“But I have always loved you,” Tommy placed his hand over Oliver’s heart, “and you never did anything to me that I didn’t want you to do. Okay?”
Oliver ducked his head and tried to avoid eye contact, but Tommy wouldn’t allow it. He sighed, “Okay.”
A loud snoring sound coming from the baby monitor made both men jump. Tommy laughed, “Sounds like William rolled onto his back.”
Oliver grabbed the baby monitor from the table, “I’ll go check on him.”
“I’ll do the other tuck ins.” Tommy offered.
Oliver stopped in the doorway and laced his fingers with Tommy’s. As they quietly walked up the stairs to check on their sleeping children, his heart was filled with love for the man who loved him despite all of his imperfections and failings. He had a family and a home full of love because Tommy had found a way to bring them all together. Oliver brought Tommy’s hand to his lips, “Thank you for loving me and giving me this life.”
“I didn’t give you anything. We built this life, all three of us, together,” Tommy kissed Oliver’s wedding ring.
At the landing Oliver let go of Tommy’s hand. He watched Tommy walk down the hall towards Bobby’s room when another memory popped into his head. “Tommy,” he whispered.
Tommy turned around, “Yeah, buddy.”
“Do you really not remember how we got the penguin into the pool house?”
Tommy stared at him with wide-eyed innocence, “If I remembered that story, don’t you think I’d have told it at every family gathering, society soiree and cocktail party of the last twenty-four years?”
Tommy’s argument was a persuasive one. Oliver was pretty sure that if Tommy remembered that story, it would’ve made it into their wedding vows. Another loud snore sounded from the baby monitor and he held it against his chest, “I better check on him before he wakes the entire house.”
As Oliver turned William onto his stomach and covered him with a blanket he promised himself that he would have a long conversation with his son over a large greasy breakfast. His children deserved a father who set limits and expected the best from them. He was going to tell his son what it really means to be a real man and that consent means more than a drunken yes. He would do better by his sons than his father had done by him.