Title: Human Knot

Author: Scribe

Fandom: Nip/Tuck

Pairing: Pre-slash

Rating: R, for a little language

Summary: Christian's emotions are getting more twisted, as Matt seems to have found someone new.

Archive: Mailing lists and the WWOMB, otherwise ask

Status: Finished

Sequel/Series: Playing Games series

Disclaimer: I did not create the characters here, I don't own them. I derive no profit from this effort. I mean nothing but respect for the creators, owners, and the actors and actresses who portray them.

Warnings: Spoiler for the Pilot episode, Mandi/Randi episode, Nanette Babcock episode

Notes: A description of the actual game can be found at

I'm not absolutely sure about the time frame of these events, so I'm using my own estimations.

Terms: endocrinologist--one who studies endocrinology (the study of glands that produce hormones, and their function), au naturel--usually a humorous reference to being nude, but in French it literally means 'in the natural state'.

Human Knot
By Scribe

Her name is Vanessa. I've never even met her, and I hate the bitch. Right, that's not a very nice thing to say about a teenage cheerleader (even if you're another teenage cheerleader, competing for captain of the squad, or something). Well, guess what--I'm not a very nice person. Not when it comes to someone shitting on Matt's feelings, anyway.

He's told me about her. He came by the office after class, and his dad was booked solid, so we went out and grabbed a drink--beer for me, bottled water for him. We were parked were we could see the ocean and sat, sipping our drinks, just bullshitting, like we have a thousand times before, and I asked him the same question I'd asked him dozens of times in the last couple of years. "So, any new girl you're interested in?"

I wasn't paying too much attention. He usually just shrugged, or tossed off some flip remark about having to beat them off with a stick. He was still a virgin--I was pretty sure of that. When he finally got laid he might not tell his dad, his mom, his preacher, or his shrink, but he'd tell me. I'm his Guru for All Things Sexual, after all. Anyway, I was knocking back another swig, and it was just starting to dawn on me that he hadn't answered when he said quietly, "Yeah, actually--there is."

I didn't snort beer through my nose, thank God, but I swallowed it more quickly than was comfortable. It wasn't the brew that set up that faint chill in my belly, though. Luckily my instincts took over. Instead of scowling and demanding the slut's name, I plastered on a wicked smile and said, "Hey, Matt! 'Bout time, m'man." He blushed, and I wanted to kick myself, but I had to go farther. It was kind of like picking at a scab--you know it's bad for you, and it's going to hurt, but it's a compulsion. "So, tell me about her."

He did. Her name was Vanessa, and she was a cheerleader, and wasn't that just fucking CLASSIC? I was losing my unspoken crush to a pom-pom girl. How pathetically high school is that? Matt's well liked at school, but he isn't what's classified as 'popular', and he was marveling at the thought that one of the 'in' girls was willing to date him. I wanted to tell him that any girl should get down on her knees (literally and metaphorically) for the chance to be with him. I didn't. Instead I did the general reassurance/affirmation/empowerment thing. Then I asked if he'd gotten into her pants yet, and he flared up a little, saying it wasn't like that. That made my gut twist, thinking that he was falling in love with her. Then he added reluctantly, "Not yet," and the strain eased a little. I teased him some more--I think I called him a Stud-in-Training, and offered to give him the benefit of my experience any time he felt the need.

Christ. He'd have probably jumped out of the car and run if he knew the type of experience I'm dying to share with him. I'm in love with my best friend's son--a kid over twenty years younger than I am--a STRAIGHT kid. How fucked up am I? I used to think I had a handle on my life, but since I realized how I feel about Matt, my emotions are more twisted than a bag of Rold Gold Pretzels.

It was a week or so before we spent any more time together. His ride home from the mall had crapped out on him, and his parents were out somewhere, so he called me. I'd been considering taking a flip through the mental Little Black Book and hooking up with someone for the evening, but I immediately dismissed that and went to get him. He was standing in front of one of the food court when I arrived--with her, holding hands.

It HAD to be her. She was wearing her hair in puppy-dog tails, for God's sake. She looked PERKY. I can't STAND perky, unless we're talking about a pair of breasts (I often promise that appearance to clinch a commitment for enhancement surgery). When he saw me drive up, Matt said something to her. She replied, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. I'm glad they weren't any closer to the car, because I squeezed the steering wheel so hard that the leather cover squeaked.

Matt came and got in the car, and I barely acknowledged his greeting as we pulled out. He was looking at me curiously, then said, "I thought you told me that this wouldn't be a problem."

*SHIT! He knows.*

I was about to panic and say something that would REALLY have gotten me into deep shit when he said, "If you didn't want to pick me up, I could probably have ridden home with Vanessa later."

*Over my dead body.* "No, it's fine, Matt. I'm not irritated--I was just thinking of something. Sorry." I paused, then tried to keep my voice curious, but friendly, "Was that her--the legendary Vanessa?"

He gave a small smile. "Yeah, that's her. Pretty, huh?"

Like I was going to praise her. But I couldn't seem too hostile--that would hurt and alienate him. "Not bad. Wouldn't need much. She seems to keep in shape with the cheerleading, so if she stays active, she won't need to get liposuction on the thighs or ass till she's at least in her late twenties. The breasts look pretty good, though she might want to upgrade to a C cup later on. But if she keeps smiling like that, she's going to have crows' feet before she's thirty, and..."

Matt laughed. "You're awful, Chris. Most guys your age would be drooling down their chins over Vanessa."

*Most guys my age aren't in love with a seventeen year old boy they can't touch.* I shrugged. "So I have rarified tastes." He gave me a skeptical look. Okay, so I'm a male slut, but the people I sleep with all have at least one thing in common--male or female--and that's physical beauty. Matt would fit into the group perfectly. Or maybe not so perfectly, because he'd stand out. Matt isn't just beautiful on the inside. He has a beautiful mind, a beautiful spirit... I'm sounding like a Hallmark card here, and I've NEVER done that before, not even when I was trying to talk someone out of their pants. This is what he does to me. "So why HAVEN'T you slept with her yet? Don't tell me she's saving herself for marriage."

"No. We've sort of made out."

"Sort of? You have, or you haven't. What? First base? Second?"

He was blushing again. "We kissed--with tongue."

I detected a hint of smugness in his tone. I should have been being supportive, I know, but the thought of Matt's tongue in that teenybopper's mouth sent a flick of anger through me, and I know I sounded snide when I said, "Wow!"

I saw him deflate, and felt a little ashamed--but not much. "We sort of groped around, too."

"Did she grope you anywhere it would do any good?"

"I did most of the groping," he admitted, "and it was limited to pretty much non-bathing suit covered ground. I DID cup one of her breasts a little, but she moved my hand before it could get interesting."

"How long did she let you go on?"

He frowned in concentration. "Um, about five seconds?"

"If it was that long, she's interested," I assured him. "If she wasn't, she'd have smacked that puppy down in two or less--as soon as the nerve endings shouted out to the brain."

"Really?" He sat back, apparently thinking. "So she's interested. I guess that's good." He was silent for a moment while I considered the possible implications of that 'I guess'. Finally he said hesitantly. "I think she's gonna be the one--if she wants to."

*Shitshitshitshitshit.* "If she doesn't, I can give her the name of a good endocrinologist."

"What? Why?"

I reached over and ruffled his hair. "Because if she DOESN'T want to do it with you, she needs to have her hormones checked." That got me a laugh. I love it when Matt laughs, but this time, it couldn't take away the ache.

*****

He called me a couple of days later. "I've got a problem with Vanessa."

"You used a condom, right? Tell me you used a condom."

"I was going to..."

I put my free hand over my eyes. "Oh, CHRIST, Matt! I thought that your dad and I had taught you better than that! Come in for a test, and believe me, no matter WHAT she says, it's too damn soon for her to claim that you're the father if she..."

"No! No, it's not like that, Chris. It's not that I didn't use a condom, it's that I didn't get a chance to use one."

That made me sit up. "Wanna explain that?"

"Not really, but that's why I called, so..." He sighed gustily. "She has this... thing... about circumcision."

"Matt, you're not circumcised."

"Exactly."

"Ooooh." I couldn't help grinning, but he couldn't see it, right? I remembered being with Sean when the obstetrician said something about circumcising Matt just after delivery, or waiting till later. Sean had firmly refused either option, and when the doctor asked why, he'd gotten a twenty-minute lecture on forcing cosmetic surgery on an infant. When the doctor stupidly tried to suggest it was a precautionary health measure, Sean had gotten cold, and asked if this meant the doctor didn't think he and Julia were capable of keeping their firstborn clean, then teaching him proper hygiene. I bet that was the last time that particular doctor dared question a parent's decision about whether or not to have their kid nipped. "So," I continued, "she can't handle it au naturel?"

He sighed gustily. "She just went back to making out like we had been, but I'm telling ya, Chris--I'm getting pretty frustrated."

"I don't blame you. There are plenty of other girls out there, Matt. Find one who'll appreciate you for the potential stud you are. Hell, find two or three of them."

"Nah. I don't want to start out like that." He paused. "Uh, not that there's anything really wrong with going with different girls, if you're into that." Well, that stung. He was trying not to say I was a slut. "I need your help, Chris."

"You want me to talk to her and tell her what a short-sighted idiot she's being? I could do that."

"No, I want you to convince Dad to let me get circumcised. I asked, and he said no." I must've been silent for quite awhile, because he said, "Chris? Can you convince Dad..."

"I heard you the first time, and the answer is no--I can't, and I wouldn't even try."

"What? Why not?"

"Because I happen to agree with him on this. There's no valid reason, no health related reason, for you to be circumcised right now--you can wait till you're eighteen, and can sign the papers yourself. Of course then you'll have to PAY for it yourself, too."

"I don't believe this! I thought you were on my side."

"Taking sides isn't an issue here, Matt. You want to slice off a portion of your body simply because one person has expressed distaste. That isn't healthy."

"Yeah?" There was heat in his tone. "I haven't noticed you trying to dissuade people from unessential cosmetic surgery. I seriously doubt you've had the Elephant Man in recently looking for a face-lift. What about all those people who want a millimeter shaved off here, or six ounces of fat sucked out there when they already look so good most people envy them?"

"That's business, Matt. You... you're family."

"I don't need another father, Chris, I need a fucking friend! Fine. Don't do anything. There has to be a way."

He hung up--slammed the receiver down, actually, hard enough to make me wince. I tried to call back, but I got Julia. Matt was on his computer, and refused to come to the phone. She wanted to know what I'd done to piss him off so badly. I didn't bother to explain. I wish I had. Maybe she'd have gone and talked to him, seen what he was researching, and what happened--wouldn't have happened.

He wasn't too pissed with me later, and I did what I thought would help to try to apologize. I took him to a strip club. I figured quick, easy sex--the girl's at that place are usually good at making it seem like you're the best thing that ever happened to them. What happens? He declines. I was both happy, and disappointed. Happy, because hell, I don't want him doing it with ANYONE, and disappointed because if he HAD gone with the stripper, maybe Vanessa wouldn't have looked so special in comparison.

Well, no reason to let a perfectly good hooker go to waste, so I went back to the private room with her--and nothing. Yeah, I know it eventually happens to every man, but it doesn't happen often to me, okay? I know why it did. Because every time she touched me, I'd see someone else--I'd see Matt. I knew that he was sitting out there, and he knew why I was back here, and I'd never felt so cheap and sleazy in my life. I just zipped up and went back out, telling him I'd changed my mind. He asked if the girl was offended at my rejection, and I told him truthfully that as long as she got to keep the 'tip', she probably didn't give a damn.

Do you have any concept of what went through my mind when a couple of days later Sean came into the office and told me that Matt had tried a do-it-yourself home circumcision? Christ, hearing about ANYONE doing that would have made me grab my own pride-and-joy in horror, but hearing that MATT had taken a razor to himself...

Sean was too involved to notice how pale and quiet I'd become. He just kept rattling on. "...drank a bottle of wine before he tried it. I suppose that's a good thing. If he'd been sober, he might not have hesitated, and then he could have REALLY done some damage to himself."

I finally managed to speak. "How bad is it?"

He gave me a curious glance. "I'm not prostrate, and he isn't in the hospital--that should tell you something. He tore the foreskin, and gave himself a tiny nick in the glans, but it's nothing serious, as long as it's taken care of. I've seen worse damage done by a guy who was going commando and got in a hurry to zip up, then panicked. I'm scheduling him for repair." He sighed. "I'll have to go ahead and finish the job, so it looks like he's getting what he wanted after all. That kind of sticks in my craw, considering how SPECTACULARLY he disobeyed."

"I'll second you on this."

"That isn't necessary, Chris."

"Yes, it is. You're good, Sean, but let's face it--I'm better, and this is your son's reproductive organ we're talking about."

"Right. Thanks, Chris." He patted my arm. "You're a good friend."

As he walked away, I thought, *I wonder if you'd still say that if you knew how many times I've imagined Matt naked?*

Matt was surprised to see me in the operating room, considering how strongly I'd been in his dad's corner. He looked so young and vulnerable laying there--draped in sterile white, that mop of soft hair hidden by that hideous operating hair cap. I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be all right--that I was going to make it better for him. I also wanted to tell him that no one, male or female, was worth self-mutilation, but I didn't.

We did the procedure. It went without a hitch, and Sean reported that Matt was healing up fine. A few weeks later he mentioned that he was pretty sure that his son was ready to take a 'test drive' with Vanessa. I had to leave the room, but I had an excuse by then--I needed to change my pants. I'm pretty sure he wondered what made me crush the Styrofoam coffee cup. My gut was clenching like I'd gotten a bad case of food poisoning, and it took a long time to go away.

Then this afternoon Matt came over to my house. I could tell there was something wrong the second I opened the door. I haven't seen him like that since... I really don't have anything to compare it to. He looked like Life had kicked him in the nuts, and he just couldn't understand WHY. He's so young. He hasn't yet learned that there's no cosmic reason for the bad things in life--shit happens.

I got him in as quickly as possible and got him sat down on the sofa. "What is it, kid? Nothing's happened to the family?" It was all I could think of that would inspire this kind of pain, but I was pretty sure that if anything had happened to his parents or sister, someone would have called me before he showed up on my doorstep.

He shook his head numbly. "It's Vanessa."

"What happened to her?"

He turned wounded eyes on me, and his voice was a moan. "Chris, she's cheating on me."

Talk about a bombshell. I felt like someone had smacked me in the face, but at the same time I was having to force down a desire to shout with glee. I'm glad I didn't, because he was obviously hurt already, and I didn't want to add to it. "Okay," I said slowly. "That could be an obstacle. How do you know this?"

"Is visual proof enough? I went over to her house this afternoon. I thought, I'm healed up, she's been visiting me, talking about when we could be together, I knew her parents were out of town... Perfect, right?"

I nodded. "I used to dream of such situations."

"I was gonna surprise her." He ran his hands through his hair distractedly. "Fuck, did I ever succeed. No one answered the doorbell, or when I knocked. I know why, because I could hear music, and it was loud even outside. Anyway, the door was open, so I went in." I cocked an eyebrow at him. He said defensively, "She could have fallen in the shower or something."

"Uh-huh."

"I've been over before, so I know where her room is. The music was coming from there. I went up. I was thinking, great. She'll be laying in bed, listening to music, or maybe dancing. That would be cool. I could just walk in and start dancing with her--a nice beginning. I opened the door to her room, and... and there they were--on her bed." He put his head in his hands. "Shit, it's so humiliating, especially when you consider who it was."

"Let me guess--it was some guy who ISN'T circumcised, right?"

"Worse."

*What the hell could be worse than the woman you mutilated yourself for getting it on with some other guy who wouldn't do the same?* "Worse?"

"It was Ridley."

"Who's Ridley--some big jock?"

He gave a ragged laugh. "Ridley is another cheerleader." I must have looked blank. "Chris, my school doesn't HAVE male cheerleaders."

The penny dropped. "Shit!"

He nodded. "Yeah. I practically cut the tip off my dick, all to make her happy, and I find her with her tongue stuck down another girl's throat." His bottom lip was quivering, and I saw now that his eyes were bloodshot. He'd been crying. "What's wrong with me, Chris?"

"Nothing!" I said firmly. "Not a damn thing, except you're too fucking good for her."

He gave a watery sigh. "I'm sorry to dump this on you, but... but when I got home, Dad asked me how things went with Vanessa." A tear rolled down his cheek, and he looked at me helplessly. "I couldn't tell him, but I had to tell SOMEONE. I feel like my intestines are tying themselves in knots." Another tear streaked down his cheek. I wanted to blow up the world for hurting him--or at least strangle Vanessa. He wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, muttering, "Sorry."

"Matt... buddy..." I held out my hands. I wasn't sure of what to do, but all I know is that sometimes touch can be more comforting than words. Matt must know that, too, because he sort of leaned toward me, and the next thing I knew he was in my arms. I held him, rubbing his back, not saying anything. He didn't cry anymore, but every now and then I could feel a tremor pass through his body.

He's on the sofa now, asleep. Emotional trauma can be as exhausting as physical exertion. I'm going to call Sean in a few minutes and let him know where Matt is, so he doesn't worry. I'd suggest that he spend the night, but I don't want him around me when he's this vulnerable. I know myself--I know how I use vulnerability, and I'm not going to risk giving in and trying that shit with Matt. I care about him too much. Yeah, in a little while I'll call Sean, and tell him I'm bringing Matt home.

But right now Matt's head is resting in my lap, and I'm stroking his hair. He finally looks like some of the tension is starting to uncoil inside, and I'm not going to wake him now. No, I'll just sit here for a little while longer, and share the only intimacy I dare with this boy who's done what no one else has ever been able to do--make me think of someone other than myself--make me FEEL.

END