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family you've yearned for your whole life. The love you've
craved. That's why you're defensive. Because I seemed to
challenge that."
"Oh. You didn't?"
"I wanted you to see what you're looking for in marriage.
That it's okay to be gay or bi and still want what the rest of
the hetero world has. That's fine. More than fine."
"I never thought that it wasn't."
"But you're not entirely comfortable with your sexuality."
"Sure I am," I say and glance at Max. He looks oddly
nervous, shaky as he fiddles with the label on his bottled
water. I still can't believe how jealous he got over the girls in
the dream.
"You dreamed that your first girlfriend, and subsequent
ones, were watching you with Max."
"I-I felt...confused. Really out," I stammer. "More out than
I ever want to be."
Dr. Erickson taps his pencil on the desk, leaning toward
me. "Hunter, think about the setting. The beach. What
happened at the beach for you and Max?"
I give a knowing laugh. "Commitment."
"Precisely. Your first steps of commitment, of coming out.
They happened at the beach."
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"Why the girls?" Max asks, not looking at either of us.
"Watching us?"
"Because Hunter's subconscious is trying to sort out his
bisexuality, Max. That's all," the doctor explains patiently, and
Max looks upward in relief. "It's nothing personal against you.
He's giving you everything."
"Baby, you know how I feel," I say on a whisper. "This was
just some crazy ass dream."
"Max, how this relates to you, though, is that just because
Hunter's marrying you, his heterosexual side won't simply
shut off, any more than a straight man stops noticing other
women just because he's married. It's your job to validate his
heterosexual aspects."
"How?" Max asks, his golden eyes widening as he stares at
the doctor. "I-I'm not sure, well how to do that."
"Maxine," Dr. Erickson says with a faint smile. "Hunter,
you responded quite well to her, didn't you?"
I hold up both hands in protest. "Wait, now that has
nothing at all to do with this."
"Everything, actually."
"Yeah, I was into her, but that was because of Maxwell,
and..."
"Maxine accepted you, Hunter," the doctor disagrees. "As
equally as you accepted her. She played to both sides of your
sexual pendulum."
Maxwell and I fall deathly silent; we've never brought
Maxine out again, not after our one night of going wild
together. My face burns beneath the doctor's eager gaze, at
what he's suggesting. Finally, he continues, "Role playing is a
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vital part of every couple's sexual experience. You do realize
that, right?"
I grunt, squirming inside. Max gives something of an
answer, and I have the feeling he's about as mortified as I am
by this discussion.
"Hunter, answer me honestly. Have you felt attraction to a
woman in the past month?" he asks. "Be truthful."
I think for a moment, then start laughing. "Yeah, on Will
and Grace."
Max gasps audibly. "Grace?" he says, turning to me with
wide eyes. "Tell me it's not true."
"She's hot, man."
"But Eric McCormack!" Max snorts, the picture of easy
betrayal. You have to understand, Max is a hardcore, totally
devoted Will fan. Will all the way. I think he secretly visits Eric
McCormack fan sites, which I give him major shit for
whenever I get suspicious.
"Baby, I'm a Grace kind of guy," I explain, touching his
arm, but he jerks away from me testily. "I mean, Will is sexy
and all, but Grace..." I make a guytown gesture with both my
hands, the kind that illustrates her shapely figure. "Yowsa!
Grace has the goods!"
Max sniffs indignantly, tossing his dark hair away from his
eyes. "I'm shocked."
The doctor starts laughing, shaking his head in
appreciation of our sudden marital dilemma. "Max is about
Will, you're about Grace," he says. "What better explanation
of my point could there be?"
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"I'm all about Maxwell!" I cry, nearly rising out of my seat
in sudden frustration. "Let's get that much clear."
"Of course you are, Hunter," he agrees. "Extremely loyal,
too, I might add. All I'm suggesting is that you must embrace
both sides of your sexuality. Max isn't like you, he's been
queer for as long as he can remember."
"Whereas I'm a homo convert, thanks to Gorgeous George
over there," I grumble, gesturing toward Max. That does get
a lovely smile out of my baby.
"All I'm saying is that while you may call yourself gay, it's
a lot more complex than that. So long as you both realize this
is a major difference in your sexual identities, all should go
fine," he explains methodically. "And maybe, just maybe,
Maxine might come out and play every once and a while. I
don't think there's anything wrong with that. Not for either of
you."
Huh, come to think of it, I've been entertaining some
serious Maxine fantasies for a while now, just hadn't been
sure how to explain them to Maxwell. So maybe this last
session of counseling accomplished something significant
after all. Either that, or at the very least, all those "Will and
Grace" reruns just assumed a whole new meaning.
After our session is over, we spend the day biking it down
to Long Beach. This is the last Saturday we'll do this as single
guys; next week we have final tuxedo fittings and a dozen
other details to cover. So our ocean drive is a special time for
just us. No work, no wedding plans, just Max and Hunter
together on that Harley.
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By the time we get back to the apartment, I'm feeling a
little windblown and tired as Maxwell hits the shower. I open
drawers, looking for a change of T-shirt, and spying a hidden
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