Down on the Farm; Out in the Maze (James)

[Simon and Cyrus Ettinger]

His friend appeared surprised by the suggestion that they might seek a meal together when they exhausted their excitement for the maze. Cyrus had noticed that James experienced a more muted appetite than the average person, let alone the meta-enhanced cravings that plagued himself and his other half. Still, they had agreed to spend the entire day together, and thus it was neither amiss nor a breach of etiquette to expect. Thus he confirmed with a nod, his lips crooked upward in that unique mixture of amusement and reassurance that marked Cyrus’s control over this shared body.

“I like spaghetti-” His words were interrupted by the other man walking straight into a corn stalk, nearly snapping it in two from the force before he was propelled backwards. Lightning quick, the empath reached out one hand, prepared both to catch James before he could fall and to lightly reorient his body towards the correct path. Cutting through the stalks would be more efficient but undermined the purpose of a maze, and, besides, they would surely have to pay restitution to the owners for ruining their bounty.

Hammel paid well by school salary standards, but at the end of the day, they were only two teachers, and they had rent due and other bills to pay.

Preparing to return to the topic of their evening meal, the image of them sharing fries at Zaxby’s radiated from James, attaching to Cyrus’s thoughts clear as day. That was enticing, although there were no Zaxby’s to be found within a 750-mile radius. Yet, an alternative solution manifested almost as quickly as James’s fantasy, this originating purely from Cyrus himself.

“Actually, I know just the place. We’re going to Al’s,” he declared, smile widened with the accomplishment of a firm decision.

They reached the fork in the road, and for second time in as many minutes, James suggested the incorrect path. Almost certainly some form of learning disability and definitely nothing to comment on. Once again, Cyrus shook his head in denial, tugged on his friend’s hand, and led him down the right path, which was also the correct one. “This way.”

[James Fawcett]

"What's Al's?" James asked, following the direction Cyrus indicated. As if he could have gone his own way; that would require dropping hands, which he had no intentions of doing until his friend did so.

It was no surprise that they went in the opposite direction of the one he'd picked out. That was almost a joke in his family, to go in the opposite direction from the one James told you, and never ask him for directions. Except that when he tried to go in the opposite direction of the one he thought was correct, he still ended up going the wrong way. It felt like some sort of cosmic joke at his expense that he couldn't even work against his poor sense of direction.

His college boyfriend had been amazing at directions, and James had been fairly certain this was actually a magic power. Who could look at a map and understand it? Okay, apparently a lot of people or maps wouldn't be a thing, but how? Especially as they twisted further through the corn maze and it all began to look the same, and he lost track of where on the map they even were. He tried to look at the map with Cyrus at their next fork, but no, he no longer had any idea where to even look.

Good thing Cyrus seemed to understand what he was doing. Definitely like Cody in that way, although otherwise they weren't much alike at all. That was probably a good thing, given how many similarities James and Cody had in upbringing. Guilt twisted up in his gut as he realized he wouldn't wish that on anyone else. Was he wishing other people into Hell? Why, just so they could be well-adjusted on Earth? That wasn't very nice of him, was it? Ugh.

Best not to think of that when he was here to have fun. And Cyrus was fun. And cute. And sweet.

And, to his knowledge, probably straight.

"....my college boyfriend was good at reading maps," He offered, half as a hint that he definitely wasn't straight and definitely liked Cyrus. Because being stuck together in the middle of a corn maze was the appropriate time to feel this out.

[Simon and Cyrus Ettinger]

“The best French fries in the state of Vermont.”The Green Mountain State prided itself on keeping out many chains in favor of local establishments, and Al’s ranked at the top of fast food. There was only one location in the entire state, but it was nearby, hardly a long drive from Hammel, let alone from the maze. “Plus burgers, sandwiches, hotdogs. And the type of ice cream you’d expect from a parlor in 1955. It’s fun; you’ll like it. And we need to go soon if we go at all, because they shut down once the season changes.”

This was a common feature of old-fashioned eateries in the Snow Belt. Once the first frost was predicted, business would halt until the spring thaw. It was particularly popular with shops that sold ice cream or frozen custard, including one back home that served the most flavorful milkshakes that Cyrus had ever had the pleasure of sipping.

They twisted through the rows, Cyrus’s feet sure in the direction, as he paused only briefly to orient himself as they spiraled inward (often counter-intuitive to the novice but the way all mazes functioned; on went towards the center and then emerged from it at the opposite end).

Mention of James’s college boyfriend peeled away the veil of politeness that had prevented Cyrus from pointing out that he knew the other man was gay. It was obvious, not only from pitch-perfect gaydar but because of the unique combination of the Ettingers’ psychic powers. Still, now they were free to talk about it openly. And while a prototypical straight man might drop James’s hand in disgust or sudden fear of being hit on or objectified, the empath kept his grip as they walked. His hand warm and his palm dry, their fingers laced lightly together. “Was he? Tell me about him - was he also a music student?”

Repeating the pronouns emphasized that he had heard correctly and that each of his subsequent actions was deliberate acceptance.

[James Fawcett]

"The best fries in the state?" James echoed, intrigued. Who didn't like french fries, and paired with ice cream they were even better. When Cyrus said go soon, though. he nearly missed the additional comment about seasons, instead anxiously craning his neck towards the sky to see if it was really so close to dark. But the sky remained a brilliant blue overhead, not even a hint of sunset to be seen.

Cyrus kept hold of his hand, but...that might not mean anything. He could just be one of those straight guys who was actually truly secure in himself, or who didn't care if someone hit on him when he wasn't interested, or...who was just particularly touchy feely with his friends. Which did seem to be the case...not that James was objecting. With most people he would have; he liked his personal space. But with Cyrus around? He didn't mind having less of it.

"Yeah. He played clarinet. Wanted to be a composer. I dunno if we would've talked if we hadn't both been tryin' to find a church near college to go to and wound up at the same one. He was real quiet." And James wasn't delusional enough to claim that he wasn't also painfully shy at times. Or...most times. "But uhhh after Freshman year he said he was actually straight so..."

Not that he was entirely sure this was true, given their upbringings, but Cody hadn't given him any opportunity to push back on that statement. He was straight, and they were over.

[Simon and Cyrus Ettinger]

“The best in the state, and I’ll put that in writing.” He had eaten at his fair share f fast food places, diners, chain restaurants, all manner of establishments as a teenager and since returning. He wasn’t alone in this opinion. Simon agreed, and every Yelp review of Al’s added further testimony.Who needed McDonald’s or Wendy’s with Al’s nearby?

His friend seemed suddenly taken with the weather, and the empath gave him a light tug, bringing his attention back to Terra Firma and the route ahead of them. They could gaze at the sky all afternoon if he liked, but right now, they had a record to break, and every wasted second would tick away at their running time.

His typically affable expression slowly melted away, morphing first into the tight-lipped blank mask often associated with telepaths in popular media and then into a sympathetic frown, followed by just the barest judgmental twist of his lips. “After freshman year, he lied to you but didn’t want to be honest about it.” Cyrus lifted his other hand, unwilling to unlink their fingers as he sought to pat James on the shoulder. “You deserved better than that. Was he your only one in college?”

It seemed likely, given the other man's Evangelical upbringing and how he referred to this other student as his college boyfriend, singular, when three years remained for him to explore. A shame, that. Such wasted opportunities.

[James Fawcett]

James felt distinctly uncomfortable at the use of the word lie. Would Cyrus apply that same judgment to the fact that he hadn't come out to his family? "Uhh, well. We weren't really...out to anyone else." Which was an indirect way of explaining that their relationship had been distinctly secret. Closeted, just the two of them alone. "Neither of our parents would've...taken that well if they'd known."

And if he'd had any doubts there they'd been long since laid to rest. It was for the best that his parents hadn't had any idea when he was younger, had accepted that his lack of dating was purely because of his introversion and awkwardness and not because the only people he was interested in were the incorrect gender. Cody's parents and home church hadn't been any more inclusive, unfortunately; of course it had hurt, and he didn't know what had changed between them over the summer that Cody had decided to pull back.

Maybe it was just fear that they would become too serious and he would have to make a choice.

It's not like James had wanted to make that choice, either.

He followed Cyrus around a corner, this time stepping around the most in the way corn stalk rather than walking into it. He felt a completely ridiculous amount of pride over that.

"He was the only one. I guess I figured music was more important."

And he hadn't actually known how to meet anyone else; Cody had been a fluke. If he wanted to intentionally meet people there had been a whole one gay club (closed a year after he graduated, and replaced only recently) for the entirety of middle Georgia and it wasn't that far away but also...that required being willing to step foot in a gay club and he simply hadn't been that brave.

[Simon and Cyrus Ettinger]

The conversation had taken something of a turn from subtle attempt to come out to listening to Cyrus Ettinger’s opinions about social etiquette. Only a few months into their friendship, perhaps it was too early, but the box had been opened, and they were trapped together in a maze with the topic before them, the empathy fueled by controlled indignation and sympathy for a friend.

Cyrus, who deployed lies frequently albeit in service to protect his other half rather than for base personal gain or idle amusement, had no such compunctions using the word to describe such an obvious example. It was a lie. Whether it was understandable was another matter entirely, and while he came down on the more judgmental end of the spectrum he could readily separate the two.

Likewise, as someone who was closeted in a unique manner, his very existence a secret for years, still nothing more than a figment of imagination or a fiction as far as the law and government were concerned, who rounded his own sexual orientation to split the difference with his other half, he held sympathy for those who could only survive by stepping into the closet and hiding behind the winter coats. But there were ways to go about it, to minimize harm and avoid collateral damage, and this Cody had failed to choose one.

“Being in the closet for safety, even breaking up because you’re afraid of discovery, that’s not the same thing as telling you, after spending months holding your hand and sucking your cock, that he’s straight after all.” That type of deliberate cowardice had always numbered among the traits that Cyrus found most offensive in other people, perhaps because he was impervious to it himself, or perhaps because his other half struggled so much and still found greater bravery than so many people with fewer impediments. “Let me guess, he dropped out of contact after that and didn’t even nod at you if you passed on the quad?”

He never would have treated one of his boyfriends that way, and Simon would have cut off his own thumb before disrespecting a girl in any similar manner.

[James Fawcett]

Whatever James had expected Cyrus to say, mentions of fellatio hadn't been on that list. He felt warmth rise in his face, and he found it necessary to look away from his friend, brown eyes focusing on the corn stalks that surrounded them. Somehow this wasn't what he'd actually hoped to achieve with this conversation, not that he really had a clear idea of what he had wanted, beyond figuring out how Cyrus felt about gay people.

Apparently very, very opinionated and yet not...not in the ways his family had been. So that had to be a positive, right? Even if discussing his past sex life even in passing wasn't exactly comfortable.

"Uh...." He began before shrugging helplessly at the guess surrounding the demise of his relationship with Cody. "Yeah, more or less. You know what the worst part of dating when in the closet is? It's not pretendin' you don't kiss one another, or watchin' all the straight couples get to acknowledge each other. It's when you break up and you can't be upset because nobody knew you were together in the first place."

Although frankly it did feel unfair that straight people could be openly affectionate, but he'd resigned himself to that aspect of being gay in Georgia long before he'd ever begun dating. If he saw someone, it wouldn't be openly. Supposedly there were communities of gay men around, and in those there was some openness even if those relationships were hidden from broader society, but he was half afraid to look for those. He didn't know what to expect from them beyond what his church and family had told him about gay people, and what if they hated him because he went to church still?

Even here in Vermont, where he had witnessed first hand that people didn't need to hide their relationships he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about finding a whole gay community, bonding because of shared sexuality and possibly similar experiences. Part of him yearned for that, but another part was afraid that might mean facing aspects of himself he didn't actually want to face, and not the reality of being gay (which he thought he'd accepted. Sort of.) but his complicated relationship with his family and his faith...

That was stable right now, but only because he tried not to think about it very hard.

[Simon and Cyrus Ettinger]

It was his deceptively disarming smile, his skill with baking, and the way that he could anticipate another person’s needs and vulnerabilities that allowed so many people to experience whiplash when Cyrus expressed vehement opinions about any of the laundry list of topics that warranted them. Anything from the state of modern Jewish self-identification to American politics and the further denigration of constitutional protections, to mental health parity to dating etiquette between MSM or whether edge pieces of brownie were superior to interior ones (they were).

It was the same charisma that drew all attention to him when he so desired that allowed him to make his points without ever raising his voice. In fact, he was given to understand that this could intimidate others far more than the emotional lapse of a face slowly turning red from passion, as the voice lilted with barely-controlled emotion. Cyrus could be firm, but his voice remained as even as his convictions unshakable.

As they were here.

Likewise, he found nothing embarrassing about his example, no matter how they might run afoul of more fragile sensibilities. Yes, he had deliberately chosen one of George Carlin’s “seven words you can’t say” but that was incidental, mostly because he was a grown man and most other euphemisms for anatomy were prurile, childish, or so abstract as to be rendered meaningless. No, fellatio was a necessary example because it so differed from other sexual acts, to counterpoint with the gentle and affectionate hand-holding. As he and James were engaged in; it was often romantic but all manner of people might hold hands – siblings, parent and child to cross a street, close friends; the act was not restricted to lovers.

But while a person receiving such an act could do so against their orientation, or a man penetrating another during intercourse could close his eyes and pretend, and mutual masturbation was similarly easy enough to compartmentalize, there was nothing in this world like performing for a partner. It was at once both an expression of desire and shared vulnerabilities, motivated in equal measure by one’s own lust and a desire to bring pleasure to a partner. And the taste and texture and mechanics so differed from AFAB anatomy that no amount of denial, not the strongest imagination of Peter Pan, Willy Wonka, and Walter Mitty combined, could allow a straight man to engage without reservation.

Which was to say that it was impossible that this Cody was straight, and that further underscored Cyrus’s point and his resulting disapproval of the man’s cowardice.

The path narrowed as they approached the center of the maze, causing Cyrus to twist his body around, narrowing him to stand in a line with James, still tugging the other man behind him, as they took their final steps into the maze.

From this point forward, they were walking out of it, just as the solution to one of the earliest riddles that school children learned.

“Suffering in silence is its own torture,” he agreed sympathetically, speaking not from experience on this topic, but for his other half. Cyrus, when his relationships fell apart, was equally likely to have called them off as to have been dumped, and the latter had only one cause.

The situation with his other half. But Simon suffered so much and could only, sometimes, unload that to his therapist, but even then, he kept the worst of it to himself, unable to articulate the words. And with their family? Cyrus did not exist and had to respond to Simon’s name just as they shared a face when he emerged. Their existence one complicated game of make-believe that had lasted for more than two decades now.

“As I said, you deserved better than that.” Stalks brushed their arms as they emerged at the end of the spiral path, confronted again with a fork in the road that would cause them either to double-back in a roundabout way or to venture forward towards the exit.

Without hesitation, Cyrus chose the left.

[James Fawcett]

James didn't even attempt to glance at the map as they approached the fork, instead allowing Cyrus to guide him, trusting in the other man's judgment here.

"It was a long time ago," James sighed, as if events in the past didn't continue to weigh down upon him. There were lessons learned even earlier than that he'd never unlearned, or only reluctantly accepted that maybe he should deal with them. But for the moment he wanted to bury his head in denial.

At least he had a legitimate reason to avoid home for Thanksgiving; he didn't think he could handle going home.

But he would fix things with his family.

Eventually.

Once he stopped having panic attacks when he saw their numbers on his phone.

"My uhh other boyfriend was better. He only broke up with me because he was moving out of state and didn't wanna do long distance..."

Which he couldn't really blame Jim for, even if that, too, had hurt.

[Simon and Cyrus Ettinger]

“That makes the pain fade; it doesn’t transform the underlying behavior.” That was Cyrus,resolute in his opinions where harm befell someone that he cared about, or regarding certain aspects of morality or social obligations where a person embodied the traits to which he took the greatest offense.

That this was James added to his icy indignation, but the other man’s dismissal tugged him away from further discussion before he could run his point and the topic into the ground.

As they turned the next corner, they passed a group of three teenage girls arguing about the map with the leader, taller than her friends and a tad bossy, admonished one of the others for holding the map upside down. As he and James squeezed by, Cyrus spoke over his shoulder, assuring them that they were going in the right direction.

And then they were left behind.

James’s story about his second boyfriend was an improvement over the cowardly Cody, but it remained an unfortunate development that prompted him to make a mental note to check in with a couple of his exes this weekend, to see how they were.

They would have been friends on Facebook but he and Simon had deleted that years ago when the news story broke about the covert psychological experiment and the deleterious effect the website had on mental health.

“Where did he move?” And had he heard that thought correctly? James’s ex-boyfriend was named Jim?

A hazard of same-sex dating.Not that Cyrus had experience in that particular sand trap, fortunately. Nor had he ever dated a Simon for that matter.

[James Fawcett]

"Umm. Albuquerque," James answered after a moment of thought while he tried to remember which South-Western state Jim had packed up for. That it was far away from Georgia was, of course, the entire point wasn't it? And supposedly it wasn't a bad city to be gay in, but James couldn't speak to that beyond what Jim had told him before leaving. "He's engaged now."

And even though they'd been broken up for a few years now that hadn't been a revelation he had been prepared for. He didn't especially wish to get back together with Jim, but it was a reminder that one of them had managed to find that elusive monogamous commitment that seemed out of reach. Someone who wanted to spend the rest of his life with one of them.

This still hadn't answered the question he was trying to find out, though, and so he hazarded, "What about you? Any breakup stories?"

[Simon and Cyrus Ettinger]

Cyrus hardly had time to react to Albuquerque - home of the International Balloon Fiesta and serving green chile on every dish more savory than flan - before James added the update about his ex’s relationship status.

“Engaged. Good for him.” The empath didn’t ask whether James had received an invitation to the wedding, as he would expect of a few of his ex-boyfriends, or if instead he’d heard this secondhand or saw it on his Facebook feed one morning while checking in on family statuses in the safe environment of not having to read or reply to their text chains.

With another tug, he turned a corner, bringing James along with him, as the corridor widened, a sign that they had entered an outer section of the maze, further confirmation of their true path.

“Nothing as bad as that. My breakups are usually amicable, and I don’t think anyone’s engaged.” Not to his knowledge, at least, but some had fallen out of contact with the move, or when they had scattered for their own life concerns. “Simon has an ex-girlfriend who married the rabbi’s son and they have two children now. That was a…wedding.” To put it mildly. Simon had attended that one, not Cyrus, and it had been awkward the entire time, especially when he had been tasked with holding her chair during the Hora at the reception and had caught a glimpse under her dress.

[James Fawcett]

Well, that did not answer the question of whether or not Cyrus was straight. Why was he bothering trying to figure that out? Probability stated that he was straight as an arrow and there was no chance of turning their friendship into anything more intimate.

"I guess I didn't expect him to get engaged," James admitted, more surprised that none of Cyrus's ex (presumably girlfriends) were engaged. Wasn't it more appropriate for women to become engaged to men? Or more common? Somehow life was entirely confusing at times. "Not that...he doesn't deserve it. It's just weird to realize he can get engaged to another guy. I think my parents might stop talkin' to me all together if I ever got engaged."

[Simon and Cyrus Ettinger]

“The victory in 2015 still hasn’t set in for everyone,” Cyrus remarked sympathetically, particularly when applied to rural Southern Georgia. He remembered reading an article in college, when the first couple of states had legalized same-sex marriage, where they predicted the timeline if the Supreme Court wasn’t involved. Georgia lagged near the back of the pack, but not as far as Alabama who was listed as 2049. Based, in part, of how shamefully long it had taken them to ratify the 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments.

Obgerfell had hastened that a bit, creating equality as the law of the land, which immediately Republicans sought to undermine by carving out exceptions.

But he didn’t want to focus on that lest he ruin his mood.

They continued to trudge through the corn, the path clear as day ahead of Cyrus as he led his friend closer and closer to the exit.

“I know this isn’t as encouraging to hear, but sometimes that separation is good for clarity. If they couldn’t be happy for you, then the least they can do is give you some space and peace, even if they view it as punishment.”

Wisdom he had shared with others before.