DIFFERENT

28 -- Five Seconds

Oh no, please say it isn't so !  One of our Princes, a bad guy ?  But Prince Laurent loves Prince Larry, right ?  Maybe all is not well in the Kingdom....... read on, dear readers, read on .....

Laurent made his way the few blocks from his and Larry's apartment to the studio.  It was raining, and cold, the icy water pricking his skin like tiny needles.  It seemed to permeate his skin, all the way to his insides, freezing his heart.  The cold numbed him, it seemed.  He didn't feel "himself" any more.  He couldn't "feel".  His skin, his thoughts, his heart, he felt like he couldn't find his soul, and he was lost.  He had felt like this for a while, and he didn't know how to get back to himself.  He didn't know what was happening, and he didn't like it.  It seemed he had no control in his life anymore.  He had control in their lives, in Larry's life, he cared for Larry.  He was Larry's care giver.  As much as he loved him, and God he loved him, that's what he felt he was now.  As much as he loved the thought of being a dad, and it wouldn't be long until he was.  Their followers, social media, the world at large, their fans, he loved them too, but suddenly, it was all feeling a little too much.  He knew Larry wasn't feeling right either.  He was tired, he was fed up, and he had told Laurent he felt ugly.  Physically, mentally, emotionally ugly.  And he didn't want to make love when he felt like that, he said.  So, their physical relationship was flat, too.  Not unusual, he knew, it was a natural expectation, of course it was, and he wasn't blaming Larry at all.  Because of the hormones, and his size, and his tiredness, Larry was irritable and just plain cranky all the time.  The doc had warned them, but Laurent was not prepared for this onslaught of his own extreme emotions.  Sometimes it felt like HE was the one having estrogen therapy.   All he wanted was someone to take an interest in him, talk to him, about him.  To ask how he was feeling, doing, being.  He didn't consider himself to have much of an ego, but right now, what he did have, needed stroking, and a little T.L.C.

And Caleb was providing that for him.  He filled that hole in his soul, that little bit of him that wanted, needed, to talk about himself, about his passion, about dance.  About his friends, their friends, the Royal Ballet back in London.  About anything and everything from world affairs to the cartoon in the paper that morning.  About anything but babies, and due dates, and hospital appointments, and  "but WHAT shade of blue, Laurent ?"  He needed something to fill his head and his body, other than photo ops, and which position was most comfortable for Larry when he fucked him.  Even that was a chore now, it seemed, and he hated himself for even thinking that way.  Laurent's body, his mind, his heart, was just tired.  He knew it was just a phase.  He hoped to GOD that's all it was.  

Laurent and Caleb had been friends for years.  They first met at Alvin Ailey as dancers.  Caleb loved dance more, Laurent, choreography.  They had jointly won a coveted national award in their first year as a partnership.  They just clicked.  They shared the same mentality, the same sensibilities, the same vision for the future.  So it was no surprise when they became a couple.  They were young and in love, they had agreed on that much, but it wasn't so serious to either of them.  There were no long conversations into the wee early hours about their future plans together.  There was no talk of "settling down" together, or even children.  They had both wanted to be parents at some point, just not with each other.  They both still had so much to achieve in their own lives, as individuals, let alone as a couple.

As Laurent sprinted across the crosswalk, anxious to get to his destination, his body flooded with mixed emotions, and suddenly, out of nowhere, his heart felt heavy, like lead.  It weighed his body down, as if he were wading through mud.  And he felt like he wanted to cry.  And he knew exactly why.

This ....... situation, this ........ friendship, this ........ whatever the fuck it was.  He wasn't doing anything wrong, he wasn't.  Technically.  But he felt like he was, and he knew in his heart he was.  It wasn't actual physical infidelity, but he felt he was on his way to emotional betrayal.  He and Caleb were friends, and probably always would be in some form or another.  They obviously had  a history, and Laurent had told Larry all about Caleb, and what their relationship had meant to him.  But he had never kept anything from Larry, nothing.  So why was he doing this now ?  Here he was, meeting Caleb twice a week in his dance class, and once a week, at the studio, just the two of them.  To talk, to vent, to cry sometimes.  About what, he didn't quite know.  About everything.  About nothing.  Another perspective on his and Larry's situation.  What Laurent wasn't realising was how warped that perspective was.  How to get his head around their life.  How to get his head around Larry's love.  They talked about it all.