Drawn Together

by Z. A. Maxfield

  Anthony was making the rounds when he got a call on his cell phone. “Laforge,” he said, answering it.

  Yancy the pharmacist’s voice came through the small instrument. “Anthony, don’t look now, but the circus is in town.”

  “What?” asked Anthony.

  “Never mind, just get down here. You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

  Anthony, a little concerned, drove the short distance to Yancy’s place. What he saw, in retrospect, didn’t surprise him at all. He made a quick U-turn and creeped along the curb next to the stranger walking determinedly toward the A&W. In a completely unnecessary show of bad temper, he sounded his siren for a moment, as he would have had he been pulling someone over.

  The stranger whipped around to face him, his long black hair flying in a whirlwind around his shoulders. The man had a temper, but he was beautiful. Nothing Rory said could have done him justice. He walked like a prince and dressed -- well -- like an artist, Anthony supposed. Anthony laughed and took his time getting out of the patrol car. He came around to lean against the passenger-side door, looking the man over, playing the part of cop from a small town for fun.

  “Is there a problem, Officer?” asked Yamane.

  “I know who you are.”

  “So do I,” Yamane told him. “Do you know who you are?” His eyes said he didn’t much care.

  “Yes, I do. Thank you for asking. I have something that belongs to you.” As he had done with Rory, he popped the trunk of the patrol car and pulled out the coat he’d had cleaned.

  “How…?” Yamane took it from him and looked at it. “Why do you have this?”

  “Not important anymore.” He turned to get back into the vehicle.

  “Wait…” Yamane ground his teeth. “I’m looking for Rory Delaplaines. Do you know where he lives?”

  “Yes, I do.” Perversely Anthony didn’t want Yamane to have it too easy. “Well, have a nice day.”

  “Stop!” Yamane roared. “Is everyone in this town on crack? Where can I find Rory?” Yamane was bunching his coat into a wad and walking into the street to face him. “It’s not a difficult question. Where can I find Rory Delaplaines?”

  Anthony only had to look down a couple of inches to look into the man’s rich, dark eyes. It was hard for him to be nice; Yamane had, after all, broken Rory’s heart. His distaste for the man aside, Yamane was undeniably as striking as Rory had said. A mental image it would probably take a lifetime to get out of his head floated through his imagination. “Get in. I’ll take you. He’s not at home; he’s at the playground.”

  Yamane got into the patrol car and they drove only minutes, stopping in a small tree- studded parking area next to a baseball diamond. Anthony brought the car to a stop in the shade where they could observe Rory playing with his puppy.

  “What are you doing here?” Anthony finally asked. “I thought you went back to Japan.”

  Yamane watched Rory intently. “I came back. I needed to see him.”

  “Well, that’s okay then.” Anthony didn’t hide his contempt.

  “What the hell’s your problem?”

  “Rory’s my friend. I got to know him, in a way. No one in this town will stand by and see him hurt.”

  “It was wrong of him to leave me stranded like that. To make plans about my situation without me. I should be allowed to decide my own fate. He took away that right.”

  “Oh, heck yeah,” Anthony snapped. “I just hate it when guys love me so much they’re willing to take two bullets in the chest for me.”

  Yamane’s rage and grief radiated from him. “You don’t know anything! I never, ever imagined he’d take on Amelia like that. I never wanted him to get hurt. I thought we’d have more time. I thought she’d just kill me.”

  “I know what Rory’s face looked like when he left the Windsor Court Hotel. Amelia didn’t do that particular damage. I don’t mind telling you, I don’t want to see that face again.” Anthony looked away.

  “I don’t either. You don’t know me. Don’t presume.”

  “I know you better than you think. I got lessons. I’m the one who wore that coat. You can thank me anytime.”

  Yamane got out. “I can find my own way back.”

  Anthony was unable to stop himself. “Watch out for the snakes.” Yamane immediately looked at the ground and practically tripped over his feet.

  “I thought so,” Anthony muttered, turned off the car, and then turned the radio on. He’d wait and drive Yamane back. It was worth that much just to be rid of him.

  * * *

  Rory worked up a sweat playing with Daiki. After two weeks, they were getting along pretty well. Rory let him chase a ball, his puppy tail wagging happily. While he was retrieving it, something captured his easily distracted puppy brain, and he took off. Rory looked to see what had attracted him and drew in a deep, steadying breath.

  “Hello.” Yamane held out his hand to the puppy, getting sniffed and nibbled on in the process. He bent down and picked the dog up. Rory watched Yamane talk to Daiki as he walked.

  “What’s his name?” Yamane asked. “Daiki.”

  Yamane gave a little gasp of surprise. “Daiki?”

  “I liked the name,” Rory told him. “I don’t have a lot to say; can I have my dog now, please?”

  “Rory.” Yamane put the dog on the ground and threw the ball. “I wanted to see you.” “Do you always get everything you want?”

  “Oh, stop.” Yamane sighed. “You still have the key to this.” He tapped the padlock on the chain around his neck.

  Something inside Rory’s heart came loose and got angry. He reached out and grabbed the gold padlock, yanking the chain so hard it broke. He handed it to Yamane.

  “Have a jeweler put a spring ring clasp on that, it will save you the cost of making spare keys for everybody.”

  A look of horror crossed Yamane’s face. He lashed out, shoving Rory with both hands. Daiki dropped to a crouch and his hackles rose. Rory caught his balance. He called Daiki to him sternly and walked away.

  “Rory!” Yamane ran after him. “Please don’t do this. I promised I’d never lie. Ask me, Rory. Ask me what happened.”

  Rory turned. “No. I don’t have to listen to you. It’s not about you. What I felt for you so overwhelmed me I don’t even know who I am anymore.” Daiki was barking at both of them. “Now what? Do I go back to banging coeds because they have beer or their room has air-conditioning and it’s hot out? Or do I troll around in gay bars finding guys to suck off now that I’m part of the ‘I got done by Ran Yamane’ club? I’m not some sexual omnivore who will do anything with anyone, but I know now for damn sure I’m not exactly straight. So where do I fit in? What the hell am I, Yamane?”

  33

  Rory drove down the highway with no set destination in mind. Of all the shocking things. He’d been poleaxed seeing Yamane like that. It constituted an alien invasion of his hometown. Of course, unless Yancy at the pharmacy had died the day before, the whole town would know about it by then. He’d bet Miss Euphonia got a call.

  Damn. He’d hoped the whole thing would remain a subject untouched. If people were talking, he’d have to tell his grandparents the whole story. He owed them that much at least. He turned to go home.

  Daiki yipped out the window crack when he rolled up the gravel drive. There was a strange car parked in front of the house, and he hoped no one had driven over to gossip instead of just calling. Rory saw his grandmère standing on the porch and sighed deeply. Sometimes just coming home was all he needed.

  To his horror, the slim figure of Ran Yamane stepped out from behind Miss Euphonia, shading his eyes against the setting sun just exactly as his grandmère was doing. This was not good. He and Daiki got out of the car.

  “Rory dear,” said Miss Euphonia. “We have a guest.”

  Rory couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Grandpère Claude was seated in the living room, sipping an iced tea.

  “Why don’t we all go out on the porch?” Claude su
ggested as they entered. “It’s nicer out there.”

  The four of them walked through the tidy kitchen to the screened porch. Rory stopped to get himself some tea and asked Grandmère and Yamane if they cared for any. It was all achingly polite. He wanted to run cold water over his head, or better yet, drown himself. He entered the porch with three sweet teas.

  “So, Ran then would be your last name, and Yamane your given name,” said his grandmère. “How interesting.”

  “That’s just the way it’s done,” said Yamane politely.

  “But you’re originally from the States, aren’t you?” asked Claude.

  “Yes, I used my father’s name here. But my father never married my mother, and I took my mother’s family name when I moved to Japan.”

  “Oh,” said Grandmère. “What was your last name here?”

  “I’ll trade you mine for Rory’s real first name.”

  “Grandmère,” Rory growled a warning.

  Claude spoke suddenly. “Just what are your intentions toward our grandson?”

  Three pairs of eyes looked at him and Rory thought if he could just die, really die, right then and there, he’d be fine.

  “Well, first I thought I’d get him an organ grinder’s monkey and one of those hurdy- gurdy things --”

  “Yamane, don’t.” Rory got up, motioning Yamane to come with him. “This is really between us, isn’t it?”

  Yamane got up to follow. Rory’s grandparents said nothing as the two men walked out the screen door and into the quiet darkness of the Louisiana night. Rory pulled a surprised Yamane by the hand and led him away from the house. The evening was balmy and peaceful. The warm air hardly moved around them as they walked past the cultivated areas of the garden to a small grassy area that was shaded by trees during the day but at night was rather ominous and quiet. Rory didn’t know where to begin.

  “Too bad there aren’t any fireflies; they’re kind of an early summer thing,” said Rory.

  “Nice moon, though. I like it when it’s like that.” Yamane indicated the perfect crescent shape in the sky.

  Rory turned to face Yamane. “What are you doing here? We just keep ending up together and neither of us knows why.”

  “I know why,” Yamane whispered.

  Rory led him between two trees to a small bistro table with wrought iron chairs that was hidden from the view of the house. He invited Yamane to sit in one, and he took the other.

  “I want to be with you,” Yamane admitted.

  Rory picked a leaf off the table and toyed with it. “Yamane, you have romantic ADD. I should have known by the way you are with food. You always want what the waiter is bringing to someone else. You love me, you savor me, and as soon as you see a waiter pass by with another ‘dish,’ you want to try that too.”

  “I beg your pardon. What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Come on, Yamane, you know what you’re like. Being your lover is like being the damned emperor of Rome. There’s a mile-long line of people waiting to knock me off and take my place.” Rory threw the leaf down.

  “You think someone can take your place?”

  “Of course someone can take my place. Didn’t you find someone new even before you finished your lunch at Skeeter’s smokehouse?” Rory took his face in both his hands and kissed his lips. “The Delaplaines men only fall in love once.”

  “Rory --”

  “So it’s important that we get it right. Did you even stop to think that while you were making me your conquest du jour, you also made it impossible for me to return to the life I lived before? At any rate, it is not doing wonders to my reputation around town.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I hate crowds. I’m saying my heart is broken. I’m saying I killed your dragon, princess, and my work here is done.” Rory took Yamane by the hand and led him around the house, back to the front yard and Yamane’s car. “I love you, Yamane. I’m saying good-bye.”

  The last thing he expected was for Yamane to reach up and push him backward with two fists. Yamane’s shove caught him on the chest and rocked him back against the trunk of the car. His knees buckled.

  “Yamane, maybe this is a good time to tell you to knock that shit off,” Rory told him.

  “Oh, hell no! You do not get to do the death scene from Camille,” growled Yamane. “I never met a bigger idiot in my life.”

  “What the --” Rory got back to his feet.

  “You know, there’s this thing, even in Sodom and Gomorrah, we like to call trust,” spat Yamane. “You robbed me, you ditched me, you left me stranded in some roadside motel, and you took away my right to fight my own damned enemy. Do you think I’m the kind of man who would let my very young lover die for me?”

  Rory was speechless.

  “Your deputy talked to me like I should be grateful. Apparently you had a plan; you had help and information you didn’t mention to me at all. Did you stop to think how scared I was for you?”

  “I could not, would not, let her kill you.”

  “Who are you, Dr. Seuss? Could not, would not. You were wrong to leave me out of it. It was my problem. To take it out of my hands like that showed just how little faith you had in me.”

  “I would do it again,” said Rory, implacable.

  “Even knowing how it turned out?” asked Yamane, taking his car keys out of his pocket. “Even knowing I’d find the first way out of that dump and you’d be stupid enough to come after me before I cooled off enough to talk to you rationally? Even knowing I’d break your heart and go back to Japan and feel like the world’s biggest shit for weeks?”

  “I would never take a chance you’d be harmed. Ever. Even if it meant losing you forever to the next guy with a good story and a cell phone.”

  “You are an unrepentant shit,” spat Yamane.

  “But there’s always more where I came from, isn’t there?” Rory called over his shoulder as he walked back toward the house.

  Yamane sputtered, hesitated, and then ran after him. He threw his arms around Rory’s waist, halting his progress and holding him there.

  “You will be sorry,” he murmured against Rory’s strong back. “I will make you so sorry.”

  “I’m already sorry.” Rory turned in Yamane’s embrace to kiss him. Perversely, he could not let Yamane go. “I’m sorry I ever met you. I’m sorry I ever loved you.” His strong fingers caressed Yamane’s face as though he were memorizing every detail. “And I’m damned sorry my grandparents are home right now.”

  “Come with me,” urged Yamane. “Tonight, right now, come with me.” Yamane took him by the hand and pushed him into the passenger seat of the car. When he got into the driver’s seat, Rory said nothing. He gripped Yamane’s hand tightly as they drove off into the night.

  Yamane opened the motel room door, and Rory walked in first. Rory had the unpleasant thought that this was the same motel where Amelia had killed three people, but knew it wasn’t the same room. That room was still sealed off and unavailable for use, probably forever, because St. Antoine’s Parish was a small town and few people would allow visitors to remain ignorant of the incident for long.

  Yamane shut the door behind them and leaned against it. “Who’s taking care of the puppy?”

  “Grandmère.” Rory gazed at his lover and his mouth went dry. Yamane wore his usual jeans and a white shirt with one of his mandarin coats, this one black with creamy orchids just down the opening on the side where it was tied together. Although it was essentially a black dress with flowers on it, he still seemed elegant in a masculine way. Rory allowed the man’s beauty and charisma to fill his senses. He stood quietly, waiting for Yamane to move.

  “Do you need to call her?” Yamane asked. “Will she worry?”

  “She was watching through the window.” Rory hadn’t seen her but had no doubt it was true. He relaxed his shoulders slightly, trying to breathe regularly. Around Yamane, he hardly felt like he could breathe at all.

  Yamane came f
arther into the room. “Would you like a drink?”

  Rory nodded and watched as Yamane got two of the plastic-wrapped cups from the in- room coffee service and poured healthy shots from a bottle of bourbon he retrieved from the nightstand. “Do you want me to get ice?” asked Rory.

  Yamane slipped off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. He shook his head. “What am I going to do with you, Rory?” He blew out an exasperated breath.

  “Tonight? Anything you want.” Rory downed his drink in one swallow and got up. He began removing his button-down shirt, a short-sleeved, cream-colored plaid that he wore over a tight T-shirt. He pulled both shirts off over his head while Yamane watched him. It made him feel good when he saw the appreciation in Yamane’s eyes.

  “Rory --”

  Rory pulled him to sit down on the bed. “Make a memory with me so that when you’re half a world away I still feel it.”

  “Rory.” Rory reached out to unbutton Yamane’s white shirt. “Yamane?” “Hm?” Yamane’s muscles rippled as Rory lightly skimmed the shirt down his arms.

  “Do you ever” -- he nipped at Yamane’s neck and slid his mouth down to Yamane’s unpierced nipple -- “I mean, would you ever consider...?” He licked Yamane’s chest and moved to the other nipple, his favorite, the one with the small gold ring through it. He took it into his mouth and his mind went blank.

  “What?” Yamane reached out a hand to stroke Rory through his jeans.

  Rory moaned, luxuriating in the feel of his lover’s hand on his rigid cock. “I want you inside me. Do you ever do that?”

  “What?” Everything stopped as if someone had yelled freeze.

  Rory ignored Yamane as he tried to push him away.

  “Rory, are you serious?”

  “Yes, I am.” Rory looked him in the eye. “I want you inside me. I want that guy to be you. I’ve thought about it since last time. I...regretted not asking before.”

  “Rory.” Yamane’s eyes were concerned. “Have you thought... I mean...?”

  Rory raised his eyebrows. He gave Yamane a look and said, “Well, duh.”