by Kim Fielding
“Yeah. Don’t get your hopes up. If they’re booked for a Tuesday they probably suck. I bet the main attraction for this band is the eye candy.” He gestured at the stage. “The lead singer is hot.”
He was right about the lead singer, a handsome guy with long black curls. He had shed his T-shirt, exposing a broad, sculpted chest, and all he wore was a pair of ragged and dangerously low-riding jeans. His eyeliner and red lipstick did nothing to detract from his masculinity.
“See?” Colby said. “You look like that and nobody gives a crap what you sound like.”
The band spent a few minutes warming up before launching into their first song. William didn’t recognize it, but Colby banged his forehead on the table. “Oh God. They’re playing Bon Jovi.”
William wasn’t sure whether he’d like Bon Jovi under other circumstances, but even his unpracticed ears could tell the singer was slightly off-key and had trouble hitting the high notes. Plus he sang at a different tempo than the guitarist and drummer played, forcing them to occasionally scramble to catch up. When they finished, everyone clapped. Maybe the audience was just glad the song was over. Or maybe they were applauding the light sheen of sweat that caused an interesting play of light over his muscles.
The next song made Colby groan—“He’s torturing Bowie!”—but William didn’t think it was as awful as the first. That opinion might have had something to do with his second beer.
After the third song, something vaguely heavy metalish, the bartender approached the stage. He had a brief discussion with the band that made the lead singer pout, but the bartender returned to his station looking satisfied. The band started up a new tune that was bouncy and had lyrics about love. The crowd cheered and people began to head to the dance floor.
Colby stood and bounced around the table. He held his hand out to William. “C’mon.”
“But I don’t know how—”
“Don’t care.” Colby dragged him out of the chair and to the now-crowded dance area. Then he began to dance. He was really good, moving his body in amazing ways. William plodded in place, feeling like an enormous dork, but every time he was ready to give up, Colby would place his hands on William’s hips and give them a shake, or would turn around to grind his butt against William’s groin. Well, he’d try to grind his butt against his groin, but because William was so much taller, the aim was a little off. But William didn’t mind. He kept on dancing, through that song and another and another, and somewhere along the line he realized he was having fun.
The band began a slow song. Colby grinned and pressed himself against William, wrapping his arms around William’s waist. Colby was sweaty—they were both sweaty—but that was fine. William thought he heard Colby sigh against his chest.
William had never danced with a man before. Had rarely danced with a woman. He’d never held a man in public like this either. He might have expected to feel uncomfortable. But he didn’t. Oh God, he really didn’t. Colby fit so nicely against him, so firm and strong, and his hair tickled William’s chin, and they moved so smoothly together, as if they’d been practicing for months.
Other couples circled them slowly. Mostly pairs of men but also a few pairs of women and one or two mixed-sex couples. Two men with short gray beards passed very close by, staring into each other’s eyes with as much love as William had ever seen. How could anybody believe there was something sick about that—something that needed to be cured? Dancing with Colby felt as natural as anything William had ever done.
The song came to end. “Hey guys, we’re taking five,” announced the singer. Colby didn’t immediately peel himself away. But he finally loosened his grip around William’s middle. William realized his own arms were still wrapped pretty tightly around Colby, and he let go.
“That was nice,” Colby drawled. He seemed calmer than usual, a dreamy look in his eyes. “You’re a natural.”
“Only because I let you lead.”
They were standing very close, almost touching. William caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. The guy with the fauxhawk was coming their way, his gaze set intently on Colby. No cockblocking, William scolded himself. He took a step back. “I’ve gotta use the bathroom.”
“Okay. Um, Will?”
Will stopped in his tracks, waiting.
“Don’t be too surprised if not everyone’s in there to take a piss.”
Oh. “I’ll try not to have a fit of the vapors,” William responded drily.
Colby laughed and shook his head. “Sometimes I forget how funny you can be.”
Mulling over whether that was a compliment, William searched for the men’s room. He found it after a few moments, but had to push his way down a hallway full of men to get there. The men were mostly making out, although a few pairs of them were doing a good bit more. He was blushing furiously by the time he entered the door marked “Bulls.” He wondered whether there was also a door somewhere marked “Cows,” and if so, what the bar’s female patrons thought of it.
He’d steeled himself after Colby’s warning, but the advance notice wasn’t quite enough to overcome his shock at finding a man leaning in the corner of the bathroom with his jeans pushed down to his thighs, a second man kneeling in front of him and enthusiastically bobbing his head. Neither of them paid any attention to William or to the half-dozen other men who were using the urinals or washing their hands.
William quickly averted his gaze and hurried to a vacant urinal.
He was zipping up when the man to his right said, “Hey.”
Not sure if he was the one being addressed—and a little scandalized if he was—William turned his head. The man was almost as tall as he was and considerably more muscular. He was older too. Late thirties, probably. His dark hair was cropped very short, maybe to hide a slightly receding hairline. He had a square face with a firm chin covered in dark stubble. His eyes were dark too, crinkled deeply at the corners, and his teeth were very white and even.
“Hi,” William responded, then escaped to the sinks.
The hallway crowds were even heavier. Moving through them, he felt a little like a salmon swimming upstream. Before he reached the main room, the band began again, the beat pounding in his body.
He was halfway to the dance floor when he spied Colby dancing with Fauxhawk.
That feeling in his gut? It couldn’t be jealousy. Jealousy would be stupid. Colby was only a friend, nothing more. He’d brought William here so William might meet more men, and if Colby met some too, good for him. The poor guy was lonely. He deserved a little company. And Fauxhawk was a nice match for him, physically at least. Just like Colby, he was very handsome and fit, and he moved almost as gracefully to the music.
Probably William’s stomach was churning because he’d done all that dancing. Another drink would settle it. He walked to the crowded bar and squeezed between two men. His height proved a real advantage in catching the bartender’s eye. “Sierra Nevada, please,” William said.
The bartender nodded and drew his beer. He slid it over and William handed him a five. William took a sip and turned. He’d find an empty table and relax. Engage in some good people-watching. It would be like doing field research. He smiled to himself, imagining a journal article title: “A Participant-Observer Study of a Central Californian Gay Bar.”
“Hey again.”
William stopped short, spilling a little beer. He’d almost walked into someone. The man from the urinals, and he was smiling. “I was going to ask if I could buy you a drink, but I guess I’m a little late. How about if I grab one for myself and we sit down together?” There was a very slight twang to his voice, just a hint of a Southern accent.
“Okay,” William replied, feeling incredibly lame. He wasn’t sure whether to find a table or to wait for the guy, but then someone jostled him and he moved farther away from the congestion.
“How ’bout that one?” The guy had returned with a beer, and he gestured at a table far from the dance floor.
“Sure.”
/> They had to take a circuitous route to get there, and when they reached their destination, the man sank into a chair with a satisfied little groan. William sat across from him.
“I’m Steve.”
“William.”
They shook hands across the table, which felt a little odd, but Steve didn’t seem at all rattled. “I can’t think of a way to ask this without sounding really clichéd, but you’re new around here, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. This is my first time.” William didn’t elaborate that this was his first time in any gay bar.
“Thought so. Fresno’s a pretty small town, when all’s said and done. It’s nice to see a fresh face. Where you from?”
“Bay Area.”
Steve moaned. “Christ, we must seem like a bunch of backwoods hicks to you.”
“Not really. I haven’t… I wasn’t very active back there. Busy with school, work.”
“Sure.” Steve nodded “Know how that goes. I own my own business. The problem with being your own boss is there’s no one to bitch about when the boss works you too hard.”
Steve had a nice deep laugh and a warm, sincere smile. He was wearing a navy-blue polo shirt, and little tufts of chest hair peeked through the open placket. There were more dark hairs on his arms and the backs of his long, broad fingers.
William decided to try a conversational tack of his own. “You don’t sound like you’re from here originally.”
“Man, my South Carolina always gives itself away!” Steve took a long drink of beer, his throat working as he swallowed. “Yeah, I moved out here as soon as I graduated college. Never regretted it.”
A slightly awkward silence followed. Well, William felt awkward. Steve was eyeing him very frankly and didn’t seem discomfited in the least. Finally, William felt like he had to say something. “The band is, um, versatile.”
Steve laughed loudly at that. “Yeah, they stink pretty equally at several genres. Sometimes there’s decent talent here on weekends, but then you usually have to pay a cover charge. What kind of music do you like?”
“I’m not very good with music. I listen to classical when I work, mostly.”
“Me too! It doesn’t distract you, right?”
“Exactly.”
“My partner used to—” Steve frowned. “Damn. Promised myself I wasn’t going to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Bring up my partner. Ex-partner. Deceased partner. Um… fuck. Sorry. Let’s just forget the last part of the conversation, huh?” He grinned. “How ’bout them Niners?”
“It’s okay. And I’m really sorry.”
Steve shrugged slightly. “It’s been two goddamn years already. It’s really not a good subject to bring up in the first five minutes of meeting a cute guy. Unless sympathy will get me somewhere with you?” He said the last part with a wink, letting William know he was only joking.
But William felt a little flustered at being called cute. “I just broke up with my partner,” he blurted. “We were together for almost eight years.” Which was true, if you counted from when they first met.
Steve reached over to pat his arm. “Wow. So instead of Garnering Sympathy Guy I’m in line to be Rebound Man?”
William winced.
“Hey, William, no worries. I know how it feels to dip your feet back in the pool after a long time. You keep worrying about sharks. I’m up for… something quick and easy. But if you’d rather kick back a little and get to know each other, that’s really cool.”
Quick and easy. William pictured the bodies he’d seen rutting against each other in the hallway, the men in the bathroom. He could have that if he wanted. And Steve was very handsome, not to mention pleasantly easygoing. William liked him. He was curious what those big hands would feel like against his skin. Were the fingers calloused? And what would it feel like to touch someone who was so… hairy? So big? Lisa was slender and nearly a foot shorter than him. And Colby—
“Let’s just talk awhile, if that’s okay,” said William.
Deep smile lines crinkled tightly. “More than okay.”
They chatted for quite some time. Steve talked about growing up in Charleston, and how he’d yearned to be an actor but settled for the more secure income of medical HR. Now he did management consulting. He loved to travel, so he told about some of the places he’d visited. William talked about his dissertation, attempting to make the subject sound slightly interesting. Steve seemed very intrigued by his description of the mental hospital. They found out they liked a lot of the same authors, and they took turns naming their favorite movies.
The waiter came by and they ordered another round of drinks. William paid, in spite of Steve’s laughing resistance.
When William accidentally let it slip that the partner he’d recently separated from was female and his wife, Steve didn’t seem shocked or upset. He said he knew quite a few gay men who’d been married. In fact, Steve himself had dated women all the way through college.
William relaxed. He was enjoying himself. It was great to just talk to someone like this and not have to make any pretense about who he was. When Steve captured his hand on the table and held it fast, William didn’t pull away.
Sometimes he’d catch sight of Colby on the dance floor. The crowds were heavy and the table didn’t have a good sightline, but Colby’s bright shirt and bright hair helped him stand out. Even when he took off his shirt—as had quite a few dancers—William had no trouble spotting him. Colby was dancing a lot with Fauxhawk, but with other men too. Once William saw him sandwiched between two half-bare men at once, the three of them moving their hips in synchrony.
The crowds had thinned a little. Steve bought William his fifth beer. Then he leaned over the table. “I’d really like to keep in touch, William. Maybe dinner this weekend? We can catch that James Bond movie.”
Steve was incredibly attractive. William leaned back. But when he opened his mouth, what came out was, “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Chagrined but not angry, Steve cocked his head. “Did I come on too strong? Or did I—”
“No. You’re great.” William gave a sigh. “And I’m an idiot. It’s just… there’s Colby. He’s just a friend and he’s not into me, but….”
“He the one you keep looking at?”
William blushed a little. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, I really don’t. But I can’t—”
Holding his hands up, Steve said, “It’s okay. Ricky and I were friends for a while before we were lovers. He was fucking all these other guys and I was right there, waiting. Took him a while to notice.” He smiled. “But when he did, oh boy! Worth the wait.”
“That’s not going to happen with Colby. He’s really… he’s special, right? And he’s out there dancing and I’m… I’m Mr. Repression.”
“You might be surprised, Mr. Repression. But here….” Steve dug out his wallet, removed a business card, and passed it across the table. “In case you change your mind. If you want to jump in the pond with me, give me a call.”
William took the card with a smile. “Thanks. Thanks for being so cool about it. I’m a mess.”
Steve winked. “But you’re a cute mess.”
To William’s surprise, Steve didn’t leave. They continued to talk comfortably about various things. Steve dared William to rate each of the men around them on a one-to-ten scale, and then they compared ratings. William laughed a lot.
“Hi.”
Colby had put his shirt back on but left it unbuttoned. His torso was dripping wet, his face flushed, and his spiky hair had wilted a little. He looked exhausted, but he grinned. “Don’t want to interrupt, but—”
Steve stood. “You’re not. I was just leaving.” He leaned down to squeeze William’s arm. “Really good to meet you, William. I hope I hear from you.”
“I had a great time talking with you,” William replied.
And Steve kissed him. Not very well, since the table was between them and William hadn’t been expecting it. But firmly, lips
to lips. Up close, he smelled nice, and his whiskers were scratchy. Then he whispered in William’s ear: “Sometimes a little jealousy helps.” He straightened, winked, mumbled something at Colby, and walked away.
Colby flopped into the newly vacant chair. “Wow! He is sex on a stick! Way to score on your first try, Will! But you let him get away. Want me to make myself scarce?”
“No. Thanks.” William toyed with his empty glass. “Looked like you were having fun.”
“I was. It’s been way too long since I’ve done this. But I must be getting old ’cause I am wiped. Are you ready to head home?”
William blinked. “But Faux—the guy you were dancing with….”
“I danced with a lot of guys. But I’m going back to JV with you. So unless you wanna change your mind about Tall, Dark, and Handsome….”
“I don’t.”
“Then let’s hit the road.”
William visited the bathroom again. There were fewer people in the way this time, and no sex shows going on. He met up with Colby in the parking lot, where the night air felt wonderfully cool. He tossed him the car keys and slid into the passenger seat. He had to fiddle with the seat back to get it adjusted properly. To the best of his recollection, he’d never sat there before.
Colby rolled down the driver’s window a crack and kept it that way as he headed for the highway. His shirt was still unbuttoned, and the streetlights and illuminated signs reflected off his hairless chest. He smiled a little to himself, humming softly as he turned the wheel. William closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window. Something felt unreal about the whole evening, as if it were a dream. Dancing. Being flirted at by a handsome man and flirting back a little. Watching Colby move among the crowd like a bright butterfly among gray moths.
Oh God.
“Hey. You okay, Will?”
“Huh?” William opened his eyes and turned his head to look at him.
“You kinda… moaned. Too much to drink? Lemme know if you’re gonna barf. I don’t want you to puke in your car.”
“I’m fine.”
Colby shot him a grin. “Regretting letting that hunk get away? I gotta tell you, I’m damn impressed with you, hitting a home run on your first at bat.”
