Las Vegas, Nevada
If there is one universal truth about all gay men, everywhere in every corner of the Earth, it’s the fact that they all have the exact same thing in their bedroom. And no, I am not talking about shackles on the bed so get your minds out of the gutters you pervs! There will be no kink shaming on my watch! It’s a full-length mirror, all the better to gaze at and admire their utter fabulousness. And the star of our time together, none other than Carter McKinney - aka Helluva Bottom Carter - had been standing in front of his own floor-length mirror for what seemed like an eternity, simply staring at his reflection. Not out of vanity mind you, despite the stereotype that all gay men went to extreme lengths to look good and take care of their bodies. Truth be told, Carter did fit the proverbial bill where that particular stereotype was concerned. He always took great care to look as good as possible, especially where Miles' own enjoyment was concerned, but in this circumstance, it was simply not the case. He was not dressing to impress his boyfriend because truth be told, Miles found his attractive in just about anything. Let alone what he was wearing now.
Carter had found a new love for the color magenta, and was wearing a long-sleeve, button up shirt of that very color with black skinny jeans to match. And here’s a little secret for all of you nosey Nellies; Carter did indeed wear glasses when it suited him. All those photos he’s posted on social media of him wearing specs? They weren’t just for show. Carter was somewhat near-sighted and wore either glasses or corrective contacts to better address the problem. He preferred contacts as glasses tended to hide his eyes, something he considered his best feature. (Miles might dispute that fact but we digress.) Today, he wore his Tower Grey style, busily scrutinizing himself.
His eyes roamed over his reflection, and what had to be the fourth straight outfit that he had put together for what he was about to put himself through, in what would most assuredly be a roller coaster ride of his own making. Privately, he could not believe that he had made a special trip to the mall just to shop for new clothes for where he was about to go and who he was going to meet. Why was he even bothering to dress to impress this particular individual? In between changes, he had been half tempted to dive into his closet and come out wearing the gayest, most garish clothing he owned – but he just couldn’t bring himself to be that petty. Which is saying something because Miles himself had stated that his boyfriend could bring petty to an art form.
He could not remember the last time he felt as nervous as he did now. Probably the moment Miles had made his desires known, but this was nothing of the kind. Circumstances were entirely different. When Carter was getting ready for his first official date with Miles, the butterflies were caused by the anticipation of spending the evening with the man he had fallen head over heels for. Whereas this time, the butterflies were more like a squadron of Boeing F/A-18Es, and caused by the idea of meeting his dad, the very man that for over a decade had hated the very existence of. But as both Miles as well as his Grandmother had told him, times change, as do people. Hence why he had placed the call to his mom to deliver the message to his dad. Things simply weren’t the same as they had been over a week ago…
Carter stepped out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him out of mere habit while Miles was prone to leave it open when they weren’t entertaining company. Carter made sure that he had everything… wallet, phone.. And once satisfied, he walked from out of the hall and into the main living foyer of his and Miles’s shared home to be greeted by a soft whistle of appreciation…
“Look at you…” Miles said with a smile from where he was lounging back on the worn out sofa that Carter still believed he had to have picked up at a garage sale at best. Miles set aside the PS5 controller so that he could give his man his complete and undivided attention. “You look great.”
“You just keep up with your flattery.” Carter half teased as he walked toward the front door where he and Miles put their respective car keys in a dish on an end table. He quipped, “It just might get you everywhere.”
“Counting on it.” Miles replied in kind, to which Carter turned around and for the first time, realized Miles was not dressed to go, but sporting his pajama pants and a muscle shirt that best defined his upper torso.
Carter raised his brow and waved a hand toward Miles, “Erm, Miles? Aren’t you a little underdressed for meeting my dad?”
“Yeah, about that…” Miles pushed himself up to his feet and crossed their threshold to gaze down into his man’s blue eyes, placing his hands on his shoulders in a comforting reassurance. “Babe… I’m not going with you.”
“What are you talking about?” Carter blinked with slight disbelief, shaking his head as if he had heard Miles incorrectly. “Miles, I need you…”
“Babe? Listen to me.” Miles interrupted what he knew was going to be a well performed protest on Carter’s part. “What you need right now is to talk to your dad … alone. I’ll just end up being a distraction neither of you need.” Carter was about to say something to the contrary, the worry in the pit of his stomach now turning into a knotted ball with spikes to match. Miles went on to say, “I’ll be right here with my phone, just in case things go bad. But…” He shook his head. “I don’t think they will. Not after what Grams told us. Not after what you found in your dad’s journal.”
Carter held Miles’s gaze within his own, drawing in a deep breath. He was right. He didn’t like the fact, he had been relying on Miles being there as a means of emotional support. He said with a faux sense of indignity, “You could have told me this sooner. I was counting on you being there.”
“I know.” Miles smiled. “That’s why I waited to tell you. You would have found a way to change my mind.”
Carter huffed and opened the front door and stepped through, but before he could close it, Miles turned him around and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Miles pulled away and smiled, telling him, “It’ll be okay.” And only then did Carter finally take his leave for what was going to be a very emotionally draining experience.
Carter stood alone on the balcony of his shared home with Miles Kasey, several stories up from the Las Vegas streets below. The sun had long since fallen, and the lights from the nearby Las Vegas Strip were illuminating the skyline in a colorful display as far as the eye could see.
“I have to admit that when I first was told about my match this week against Michael Harris, I wasn’t certain if I should feel flattered or insulted. I mean, any match against a reigning World Champion is something to be celebrated as it puts the eyes of the wrestling world directly on you. It gives you the chance to shine, especially when it’s a non-title match, like this week’s match is. The championship isn’t up for grabs but this is the next best thing, as everyone wants to see if you can take this shot and elevate yourself at the champion’s expense. And, if you can, the sky's the limit! You beat a champion, and a title shot is sure to follow! So, win?”
“But on the flip side, a Beat the Clock challenge? Meaning I’m reduced to, what? A warm up for the champion before he inevitably loses the gold to J2H. And yes, that’s my prediction for the Main Event of High Stakes XIII. That J2H will secure his legacy and end the career and the second title reign of one of the luckiest sons a bitches to ever hold the most prestigious championship in wrestling! But, Beat the Clock! Meaning Harris’s match against me and the outcome will be timed against J2H’s, and the winner gets to choose whatever stipulation they want for their big match in just a few weeks. Hm!”
Carter nodded, his teeth nipping at his lower lip while he wrapped his arms around himself.
“Much as I like the idea of another match against the World Champion so soon after my title shot at J2H, I have to say the circumstances do sort of overshadow myself and even Jaycee. Because even if one or both of us somehow come out on top in our respective encounters, all attention shifts away from what it could possibly mean for us and to what it definitely means for this feud between Michael Harris and J2H. But, as the old saying goes, you have to look at the glass and decide whether it's half full or half empty.”
Carter’s eyes shifted to a sidelong glance toward the camera and the viewer could spot the mischievous nature in those lovely blue orbs.
“As for me? I just drink whatever is inside the glass. Meaning, I am going to take the situation as it is given me and make the most of it. Also, considering – as I understand it – that they chose each other's opponents, that J2H thinks highly enough of me and the match I gave him, that I can fend Michael off for longer than Jaycee can hold J2H at bay. And, well… not to toot my own horn but, toot toot!”
“As for the champion himself, well there’s not enough time to really put into words just how I feel about that egocentric, hypocritical jackass. You see, way back when I was one of the outspoken critics who didn’t think he should have been put in that title match between Chris Page and Mac Bane. After all, that was the match that everybody wanted to see! Adding Harris to it on a technicality was like putting A1 steak sauce on prime rib! It became watered down as far as World title matches go, so much so that Page couldn’t even take part for his own reasons. But, credit where it’s due I suppose. The title match happened and Michael Harris took advantage and made the most out of it. He won the title and started one of the single most controversial reigns since Jeremiah Hardin screwed Rage out of the championship way back in `17! And the reason why Harris’s first reign was so full of bullshit is because he proved he had absolutely no respect for that championship or any of the men who came before him! If he had, he wouldn’t have resorted to any of the underhanded tactics he did in order to keep such a hold on the title for as long as he did! It didn’t matter who he was up against, he saw everyone as a threat to his reign as well as his manhood – and with good and obvious reason! Whether it was Austin James Mercer or Miles Kasey or any one of the other many men he defended against, he would pull the tights or use the ropes! He would grab the first weapon he could lay hands on from out of the official’s sight to use to his advantage! And if THAT didn’t work, he always had his wives out there to save his ass and that was when you knew SCW had sunk to a new low as far as top champions go!”
“I mean, relying on your wives to interfere in your match outright or to cause a distraction because you’re not tough enough - or man enough - to win on your own speaks more about you than it does for your defeated challenger. Oh and you can also throw in that old adage that Harris has used time and again that ‘the only thing that mattered was the outcome of the match’.”
Carter nodded, gazing out into the Vegas sky before he pondered in obvious contemplation.
“Unless of course those same tactics are used against him and then it’s an entirely different story. Then he cries and protests like a great big man baby, crying foul and accusing everyone of conspiring against him. Even going so far as to bring in his personal attorney to try and fight his battles for him behind the scenes when he can’t get in done where it counts. And here’s the thing… you would think that when looking at Michael Harris, for all his experience in this business, that he wouldn’t need to resort to those cheap wins in order to secure his standing in the sport, but I suppose when you get to be his age, you start to grow desperate. Your body just can’t take the beating that it used to so you start to sink to new depths and use tactics that you never had before in order to make life easier before you find yourself in one of those crooked old folks homes you see on an episode of Hard Copy.”
Carter tapped a forefinger to the side of his head.
“The mind starts to go so you use flawed logic and reason to explain away your actions, but the only one that you manage to delude into believing your bullshit is yourself – and your wives but they’re probably supporting you more because you serve as their meal ticket rather than any true sense of loyalty. How else can you explain having your own son run J2H down? What did you even think was going to happen after that, Michael? I mean obviously you were trying to take J2H out for the long haul, but even if it had been successful, did you think the bosses would let you sit the show out and not have to defend? Uh uh! They would have just found another challenger for you to try and lie, cheat and steal your way past! But unfortunately for you, and luckily for everyone else watching from the stands to the dressing rooms, it didn’t work. J2H came back and whipped your ass and took your title. My only regret is nobody even bothered to try and lure your rotten apple of a son into a match for his part in all of this, just for the sheer joy of watching someone – anyone – wiping that smug smile from the little ass hat’s face!”
“But I have to admit that once you lost your title to the better man – and J2H IS the better man – you didn’t react the way that I suspected you would. I half expected you to drop to the ground and kick and scream until someone gave you your title back just to shut you up. I thought you would cry foul and raise hell, but you did neither. The way you reacted – well it disappointed me if I’m going to be perfectly honest. You went radio silent. You said NOTHING. The most the world got out of you was a social media pity party, and us users get quite enough of that, thank you very much. You gave us the random tweet and hint that maybe retirement was on the way, and that sob story made me lose whatever minute amount of respect that I may have had for you. And considering how low I thought of you before, that bar was set about so high…!”
Carter bent low at the waist and held his hand down about shin-high before he stood back upright.
“And that’s being generous. Winning the title a second time, besting J2H in that cage? I think we can all agree that it was nothing but sheer, dumb luck. A dark cloud fell on SCW that night, but it’s a cloud that is going to be lifted in a matter of time. J2H has your number but if not him, then you can damn sure fire bet I’ll be cashing in after jumping the line with a win against the World Heavyweight Champion.”
“So let me close things out by giving you a harsh dose of reality Mikey. I can call you Mikey, can’t I? This is no longer about how long I can last against you in a Beat the Clock challenge. This is about how you’re going to react when I send you into High Stakes XIII with your tail tucked between your legs. The last person you probably ever expected to be booked against, title or no, putting your shoulders to the mat and feeding you to J2H on a golden platter. My time is now, and yours is up.”
The Hello Kitty Cafe
Okay, so maybe Carter did work in a touch of pettiness for this meeting in where he had told his dad to meet him. His dad was always the mature individual, often quite serious in his dealings so he could not begin to imagine the very same man sitting there in the Park MGM venue dedicated to the world’s most adorkable feline. And yet, there he stood, seemingly un phased by his surroundings. His dad, Cillian Maguire. As far back as Carter could remember, his dad always dressed to impress, and today was no different. Whether by habit or design, he was a handsome sight in his light gray dress jacket with matching slacks and white button up shirt. He had yet to take a seat, obviously waiting on his son’s arrival and judging by his stiff posture and the expression on his face, perhaps unsure if his son would show or if it was perhaps some cruel trick.
Only when Cillian shifted his gaze far enough to the right did he see his son and realize the exact opposite was true. His dad had begun to approach but Carter took that first step and beat him to the proverbial punch. Carter worked his way around the predominantly younger aged crowd until he stood face to face with the man himself. Neither spoke for several long, intense moments until…
“Carter…” Cillian started to speak but Carter found himself interrupting, saying, “Do you…?”
“I need to get a drink.” Carter said suddenly, turning to the nearby vendor of the cafe and quickly approached in the attempt to gather his thoughts and second guess himself. But if he were trying to create some distance between his dad and himself, it was in vain as Cillian dutifully followed him, his own posture poised and calm. A stark contrast to the inner turmoil his own son was going through.
Once he found himself at the front of a long line, Carter asked the vendor, “Can I get a peach iced tea?” And at the vendor’s glance to the man beside him, Carter then asked his dad, “Did you want anything?”
Cillian smiled and was about to decline the offer, but saw it as something of an olive branch being offered between father and son and opted to say, “A green tea.” And despite the fact Carter had asked, by instinct Cillian reached for his own wallet to pay for them both, but found his son’s hand on the wallet, pushing it aside.
“Put that away.” Carter said. “I deal enough of that with Miles.” And he paid for his father’s and his own drink, and moment’s later, the two had found a shady spot in the Las Vegas sun, seated at a small table beneath a colorful umbrella stand.
“As far as places to meet at, this is an interesting choice.” Cillian said all too casually as he looked around, his cool, blue eyes returning to Carter and he finally took the initiative. “I was surprised when your mom called me to tell me you wanted to talk in person. After the way we left things on the cruise, I had pretty much given up hope.”
“Yeah, well…” Carter drew in a deep breath. “That makes two of us.”
“Grams told me.” Carter interrupted his dad, and let the words simply hang there. Cillian stared momentarily at his son, unsure of his meaning before it finally took root and he sighed, closing his eyes. He said, “She shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, you should have.” Carter replied. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Pride, I suppose.” Cillian pushed his drink aside and now looked every bit as uncomfortable as Carter himself felt. He then said, “Despite everything that I put you through, I didn’t want you knowing what was happening. No father wants his son to see him as anything less than…”
“Perfect?” Carter questioned him openly. “I think we’re pretty well past that, don’t you?”
Carter had a hard time believing it, but the stricken look in his dad’s eyes tore at a part of his heart that he had long thought dead and buried away. Cillian reached again for his tea and nodded. He said, “I was … horrible to you. It was worse what I wanted to do at the time…”
“If you know that, admit that… Why are we here? Now?” Carter found himself asking aloud. “I mean…”
“I know what you mean.” Cillian nodded, a sad smile on his face. He raised his mug of hot tea to take a careful drink before saying, “I don’t fool myself into assuming you would ever forgive me for not accepting you when you told your mother and I that you were gay. You were at your most vulnerable and I didn’t give you the support or love that you deserved… Hell. I can’t even say I would have forgiven my own father if he had treated me the way I treated you. All you wanted to be was accepted and at the time, I just couldn’t.” Cillian paused and corrected himself, “Or I just didn’t.”
“So why now?” Carter asked. “I’ve been looking through your album ever since Grams gave it to me. I saw the pictures you had of Miles and myself… what changed your mind? Or, did you even?”
“I did.” Cillian admitted, finding it a difficult challenge to look his son in the eyes given the shame he felt at having failed so as a father. “I couldn't say when exactly. It was well before I ever found out about … you know. Even after the divorce, your mother was still giving me updates on how you were doing. I was as concerned as she was when you decided not to go to college and instead become a wrestler, but…”
Cillian paused, as if in either deep thought or reflection, before he continued, “I watched your first match and before I realized it, I thought to myself … ‘that’s my son’.” He chuckled to himself before he looked at Carter and shook his head. “I think that was the moment I stopped caring about your sex life and realized what I had lost all those years ago. I totally and completely failed you as a dad.” Cillian’s gaze seemed so very far away at that given moment. “And even if you ever do find a way to forgive me, it’s not something that I will ever forgive myself for.”
Carter drew in a shaky breath, struggling to restrain his emotions. He did not want to let his dad see him react to what he was saying. He never thought he’d see the day his dad ever admitted fault to anything, let alone how he was as a dad. Rather, Carter looked at his drink and took a sip through the straw and shrugged his shoulders, saying, “It wasn’t all bad. You know… before.”
“You’re being kind.” Cillian started to say, but Carter quickly said, “No, I’m being honest. There’s a difference. Before I came out, to me you were the perfect dad. You played with me. Tried to teach me sports or things about cars. You let me watch movies that Mom forbid me to see. Came to my school plays and you were at every PTA meeting… all of that is why I loved you so much!” Carter caught his voice raising before gathering himself. “That’s why it killed me when you wanted to send me away! When you…!” Carter bit his lip and looked down, the first tear streaming from his eye. One that he hurriedly wiped away with the misguided belief that his father would be fooled into its nonexistence.
“I know.” Cillian nodded sadly. “I know.”
“That’s why you started coming to the shows?” Carter asked. “Why you’ve been following me?” To which his dad nodded with a silent affirmation.
“Yes,” He admitted. “And no. It was around that time I had been told by my doctors about my kidney failure. I knew I had low priority on the donation registry, so after some difficulty in accepting things for how they were, I called your mom – and I wanted to see my son again.” And despite Carter’s denial, at that moment all he could do is reflect on how he reacted to seeing his dad… and the last thing he had said to him on the cruise.
“Why didn’t you come to talk to me before that?” Carter asked, swallowing a choked sob. His eyes misty with emotion. “Why didn’t you try to talk to me before you found out…”
“Because your Mom and Grams had given you the life that you deserved after I had left.” Cillian admitted. “And I just felt that you deserved better than to have me in your life.” And Carter’s own reactions to seeing him had justified that assumption, Carter again thought to himself. Cillian rested his chin on his curled fingers and said, “And after I found out I was sick and was going to… “ He sighed. “I just wanted to see you and your mom again.” Both let those words simply remain between them, and neither spoke after several moments, simply preferring to enjoy the evening between them with a bit of people watching.
“So…” Cillian finally broke the emotionally silent barrier between the two. “Tell me about this ‘Miles’.”
“Seriously?” Carter arched his eyebrow. “You want to go the protective dad route? Now?”
Cillian smiled gently and shrugged his shoulders. “Father’s prerogative.” Which caused Carter to laugh, despite himself. And with that one barrier down, Carter started to talk, and his dad listened…
And before either man realized it, two hours had passed since they had sat down across from one another and the sun had begun its slow descent into the horizon. Realizing their time together had started to draw to a close, father and son found themselves simply walking along the Vegas Strip, mostly silent and simply experiencing the forgotten feeling of each other’s company.
Carter finally said as they passed the famed Bellagio Fountains, “The next pay-per-view is in a few weeks, here in Vegas.”
“Is that an invitation?” Cillian asked.
“Yes.” Carter found himself admitting. “It’s an invitation. I can nab you a ringside seat… maybe a backstage pass?”
“I’ll be there.” Cillian said as they finally arrived at the spot where Carter had parked his car. Carter turned to his dad but neither moved, neither spoke. Moments of silence passed between father and son, but neither man could find a suitable way of ending the evening. Neither wanted to.
“Are you scared?” Carter finally found himself asking.
“Terrified.” Cillian smiled softly. “Anyone who would tell you otherwise would be a liar. But I’ve skipped past all of those other stages and I’ve accepted what I can’t change.”
The tears started to flow as Carter finally broke down, “I don’t know what to say to you…”
“You don’t have to say anything. You’ve said enough.” Cillian smiled, placing a reassuring hand on his boy’s arm. “You meeting me halfway here tonight was all I could have asked for.” And in that one moment, Carter did something he had not believed himself capable of for the better part of ten years. He found himself in his dad’s arms, hugging him with everything he had. And in that one moment, Carter felt like a little boy again, the floodgates now completely open.
“I don’t want to lose you!” Carter cried hard as Cillian smiled, hugging his son tightly against him and stroking his hair like a child… and as the father glazed up, his eyes were wet as well.
