His gray eyes narrowed on me, and he tipped his chin up. “I like that. I will be his punching bag.”
“And I’m happy I can be your and Danny’s therapist,” I teased.
I saw his mind working, the wheels and springs moving. “As long as it’s pro-bono.”
We shared a laugh, perhaps the first true laugh where what I’d said, and what he’d said had been understood. In the beginning, it had taken a little tact to get our points across because as Danny had explained,Jere was Jere, and he doesn’t think like the rest of us.
We cleaned our gear for the next patrons and took a shower.
As we washed, he told me about the special gift he was having custom made for Danny: A fancy, handmade cane carved with mulberries. From the way he talked about baking mulberry pie with Danny’s mom when they were kids, it was obvious it was something special between them, something I wasn’t privy to.
A little stab of jealousy slipped between my ribs. I’d had a crush on Danny, and I wasn't sure why I hadn’t asked him out after knowing him for years. There was also the frustration and guilt of not being there when he’d been bashed. But Danny was happy now,with Jere, and in turn, that made me happy.
Jere peaced out and I lingered in the locker room, looking for an excuse not to attend my monthly circle of friends meeting we’d dubbedthe single mingle. It was almost seven and with the night off from my gig at the Adonis, I didn’t feel like sitting home.
I dressed and made my way toward a snazzy little bar on the north end of Boystown. With the worsening weather, only a few of my friends had shown up and we shared drinks and stories, the warmth of friendly laughter beating the cold winter’s night. I wasn’t sure how it had snuck up on me, but sometime between my third shot of Grey Goose and taking a long look at the men that had been in my life for eight years now, I realized I was lonely. I had no one and nothing of importance beside my job.
It was almost eleven by the time I stepped out of the pub. The snowstorm had blown on through, dumping four inches that was mostly slush and salt on the pavement.
Gabriel, the group’s health-nut, and my closest friend besides Danny, slapped me on my back. “Are you sure you want to walk in this? Seems a bit far. I’m sober. Let me give you a lift home.”
“Yeah, actually. The cold air is good for clearing my mind. I like taking long walks on chilly nights.”
“You put that in your dating profile?” he teased, buttoning his wool coat that probably cost more that I made in a month.
I huffed. “Don’t tell me you still have one.”
“Nah. More trouble than they're worth, really. But we got to meet each other, so there is that,” he said and I got the impression he wasn’t being truthful about no longer having a dating profile. Neither was I and I supposed we were both aging men hanging onto the hope we might find that one special person to spend the rest of our lives with. “Alright, I’m going to head home. Talk to you later. And remember, stop slouching.”
“That’s become a fetish for you, my friend,” I said.
“What? Obsessing over people’s backs?” he shot back with a grin. “I don’t see you complaining when I fix that troublesome Iliocostalis Lumborum that acts up once a year.”
“Talk dirty to me, doctor,” I said, a bit tipsy. “The way you talk about human anatomy gets me hot.”
“Alright, you lush.” He laughed, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “Let me know that you made it home, okay?”
We pulled each other into a hug, and I clapped his back. We’d tried doing the dating thing once or twice, but learned quickly we were better friends than lovers. I was thankful to have him in my life, however.
I started walking south, watching my boots crunching through snow and salt. It was a hell of a shock accepting that I was lonely. I almost didn’t want to go home, because my little apartment would make me feel even more lonely.
I was twenty-four when I made a promise to myself: No more anonymous sex. I wanted something real and deep. Fast forward thirteen years and what did I have to show for it? The big four-oh coming up probably had something to do with the sudden mid-life crisis coming on. I’d never obsessed over my agethe way Gabriel did but I was starting to understand why he was prone to it, seeing as he was two years my senior.
As I neared my apartment above the Adonis, I turned down the alley, savoring the workout my caves were getting from treading through unshoveled snow. I was looking forward to a peaceful night of lounging on my couch and watching Golden Girls reruns. And if I got bored, I could always go downstairs and ensure my bouncers were doing their jobs. It wasn’t uncommon for me to spend my days off at the club, something the bosses Glen and Patty heckled me about.
We know you practically live here, but you don’t actually need to be here twenty-four-seven, Gingersnap.
Working in a gay club was a double-edged sword. On one hand, I had access to a rotating buffet of choice meat if I was hungry enough. A man like me–relatively decent looking that was the cut-out of a gay bear–didn't have to go very far to find a little company. On the other hand, watching everyone banging in the bathroom when they weren’t supposed to, and smiling like they were the happiest guys in the world, deepened that loneliness.
Spending every second in the club also gave me a better chance of seeinghim. My little brat who no matter how many times I’d tossed out for being under twenty-one, somehow managed to slip past security with numerous fake IDs, and an ever-changing appearance.
First, he’d come in with pink-tipped hair, colorful eye shadow over guy-liner and a pink t-shirt cut off at the shoulders and midriff. The sass he’d given me had been annoying but expected.
The second time I’d caught him, he’d sported an emo, over the face hair-do and a black-long sleeve slashed up everywhere. Same pouty lips and cocky words and eyes that swirled with wicked thoughts. I’d seen him around theneighborhood too, being in places he shouldn’t. It had become a game for me to get him thrown out of bars while he no doubt enjoyed the verbal thrashing he delivered me. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen him since Danny’s fund-raiser back in October and I was itching for one of our encounters.
I decided to actually take a day off and rounded the corner toward the Adonis’s back entrance that would lead me up to my apartment. A wind blew in, making me shiver and I quickened my pace. The alley hadn’t been plowed or salted yet, so it was easy to take a misstep and I nearly tripped over something next to a garbage can.
It moved and made a raspy, miserable sound. Under the tangle of snow-covered clothes and a torn backpack was an actual person.
