Different Sin

by Rochelle Hollander Schwab

  “Zachary! What a pleasure to see you!”

  David looked up from his reverie at a smiling, well-tailored man in his mid-fifties, silk cravat elegantly knotted about his neck. Zach was pumping his hand heartily, beaming in turn.

  “This is my good friend, David Carter, one of Frank Leslie’s prize sketch artists. Byron Roosa, David. We labored on the Tribune together before he left to pursue the higher callings of essayist and novelist.”

  Roosa took David’s hand between both of his own, bowing slightly as he spoke. “A most valuable apprenticeship, and one I’ve often recalled with pleasure. I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr. Carter, and to renew Zachary’s. I’ve been traveling about the Continent so long, I fear my old friendships are in sad disrepair.”

  David smiled, watching Zach and Roosa launch on a spirited reminiscence, the two men a study in contrast. Zach beamed happily, sitting comfortably at ease in his rumpled coat. Roosa sat straightbacked, his long fingers balancing his tankard as delicately as he might a crystal wine goblet. He pulled a gold watch from his pocket, then gestured gracefully. “My affairs call. Another day, I hope.” He turned to David, pressing his hand once more.

  “Perhaps we’ll meet again,” he murmured. “Do you ever take occasion to visit any of the public baths?”

  David started, taken aback at such a personal question from a stranger. “Once in a while, but I generally content myself with my washbasin,” he stammered finally.

  Roosa chuckled softly, his voice even softer. “Ah yes, cleanliness is next to Godliness, I daresay, but I had other enjoyments in mind.” His hand lingered on David’s. “It would be my pleasure to show you, sir.”

  David stared at Roosa in slow, unwilling comprehension, his flush of embarrassment mingling with the heat of rising anger. He jerked back his hand. “You can go straight to hell!” He glanced momentarily at the consternation on Zach’s face. “I’ll settle my bill with you later, Zach. I’m getting out of here.”

  He’d reached the front door of the boardinghouse when he heard Zach’s footsteps behind him.

  “You might’ve refused him a little less rudely!”

  “Rudely! Do you know what he wanted!”

  Zach gave a slight, breathless chuckle. “I can imagine. But I fail to see why you were so offended by it.”

  “You don’t see— For God’s sake, Zach!” The silence following his words stretched between them.

  “He picked me out as a— a sodomite.”

  Zach sighed deeply. “David, if you want to talk, we can do better than Mrs. Chapman’s front stoop.”

  “I don’t want to lie with you, Zach.”

  “I daresay we can be in a room together without that.”

  “C’mon to my room then.”

  David crossed to the mirror above his bureau and looked into it a long moment, irritably watching Zach shuck his coat and toss it onto the chair. His own face stared back at him: clean shaven, angular featured, blond hair falling lankily on his forehead. He shoved it back.

  “I doubt he accosts every man he meets. What in hell was it he saw about me?”

  “Likely nothing but the fact that you’re a friend of mine. We knew each other fairly well at one time.” Zach sat on the edge of David’s bed and slipped off his shoes. “Ah, that’s better.

  “We’re not the only men in the world to prefer the affection of other men, David. I daresay Byron misspoke himself, but I fail to see what harm’s been done you by it.”

  “Dammit Zach, just because we— because we’ve— I’m not some damn nancy like Elliot calls you!” He drew in his breath. “Christ! I didn’t mean to repeat that.”

  “Perhaps not. Though you wasted no time in doing so. Why in damnation do you think us any worse than Elliot, with his parade of fancy ladies?”

  “At least it’s not unnatural. He’s not some kind of— of pervert.”

  “In that case, I fail to see why you didn’t join him!”

  “I should’ve! At least it would keep him from shooting off his mouth about me too.” David looked at Zach’s unwontedly rigid posture, his hands clenched on his knees. “Hell, I’m sorry, Zach. I never think of you as—”

  “David, we are as we are.”

  “I’m not— I’ve never— I never had a real friend before we met. I guess I felt such affection for you it spilled out of its proper boundaries.”

  Zach relaxed back into his customary easy posture. “You know how dear your friendship is to me, as well. I cared for you for years before I dared express my feelings to you.” Zach smiled gently. “But we do seek after a different sort of love than other men.”

  “Zach, for God’s sake, do you think I would do what we’ve done with any other man— with that, that friend of yours, say?”

  “He was heartily embarrassed by his misjudgment, as a matter of fact. Byron’s a bit full of himself, but he’s not a bad sort. I’ve known him a long time.”

  “I don’t want to know how well you knew him!”

  Zach chuckled softly. “It was a long time ago, David. I have no desire now for anyone but you. And I’m delighted that my feelings are reciprocated.” He hoisted his feet onto the bed, propped the pillow against the headboard for a backrest and stretched out his legs. “There’s room for both of us to sit here in comfort. It’s wearying me just watching you pace.”

  David smiled painfully. “Every time I sit on a bed with you, we end up sinning again.”

  “There’s no sin in enjoying the love of another man if you broaden your sights beyond a narrow-minded view of Scripture. The Greeks believed it the highest form of love. Plato speaks of it, if I’m not mistaken.”

  David lowered himself slowly onto the bed alongside Zach. “You probably know more of Plato than I do. I’m afraid a college education was wasted on me. But, hell, Zach, the Greeks weren’t even Christians.”

  Zach chuckled, and draped his arm lightly around David’s shoulder. “I doubt that Christians are in sole possession of the truth.”

  “Perhaps not.” David sighed. “I wish I had your ease about it.” He sighed again and moved closer to Zach, letting himself rest comfortably against his warm bulk. His friend’s arm tightened around his shoulders.

  David closed his eyes, savoring their silent closeness. He could feel Zach breathing with him in companionable, rhythmic unison. He turned his head, smiling at the familiar tickle of Zach’s beard.

  Zach’s arm crept further around him. Slowly he undid the top buttons of David’s shirt. His fingers made gentle semi-circles around David’s nipples. David gave an involuntary shiver of delight, feeling the first stirring in his penis. Zach’s strokes quickened, passing in electric tingles over the sensitive tips of his nipples. David abandoned any remnants of reluctance, surrendering himself to his enjoyment of the sensation.

  Zach brushed David’s eyelids and temple lightly with his lips. “Still regretting you didn’t take Elliot up on his invitation?”

  David opened his eyes. He turned toward Zach and traced Zach’s smile with his finger. “You know damn well I’m not.” He let his fingers trail through the lushness of Zach’s beard, then slipped his hand behind Zach’s head and kissed him hungrily. Their lips met with near-bruising intensity. David pulled Zach closer still, his tongue darting caresses as Zach’s lips parted in eagerness.

  He drew back for breath, still holding Zach to him. “You know damn well there’s no one in the world I want to lie with but you.” He closed the distance between them and covered Zach’s lips with his once again.

  The unaccustomed hum of Zach’s snoring awakened him. David rolled over and fit his body closer to Zach’s, his arm thrown loosely across Zach’s chest. He gave a contented sigh and began to drift back to sleep, lulled by his friend’s warm, comforting presence, his chest rising and falling under his arm.

  It would be damn good to lie like this till morning, David thought sleepily. My God! Morning.

  He jerked awake and shook Zach. “Zach, c’mon, wake up. You�
��ve got to get out of here!”

  Zach’s rhythmic snores broke off. He gave a protesting moan. “It’s nighttime yet.”

  “Thank God I wakened before morning! You’ve got to get out of here before anyone sees you!”

  “Mmmn. It’s so good just to lie next to you like this.”

  “Hell, I know it, Zach.” David ran his hand lightly over Zach’s chest, smiling at the furry feel of his hair. He reached down and gently patted Zach’s private parts. His fingers closed lightly around Zach’s balls, cupping them tenderly.

  A long, peaceful moment passed. David forced himself to renewed alertness. “If we fall asleep again, half the boardinghouse will be watching you troop out of my room tomorrow morning!” He gave Zach a last, affectionate pat. “Now go on and get out of here before I grow horny again.”

  Zach stretched sleepily and began to fumble around for his clothes. David held his door open a crack as he listened to Zach shuffle barefoot down the hall, holding his breath till he heard the quiet click of Zach’s door. He lay back on his empty bed with a sigh of relief.

  Without Zach’s presence the bed felt clammy, the sheets unpleasantly sticky with semen. David was unable to return to sleep. He rose to use the chamber pot, then stretched out uncomfortably.

  He thought a moment of his disgust at Byron Roosa’s proposition the evening before. Did the affection he and Zach felt for one another make their lust any less a sin?

  He’d meant to avoid the sin of sodomy for once. He should’ve known better. Hell, he was as eager for it as Zach, maybe more so, to be honest with himself.

  How the hell could he want it so much and regret it so sharply? He lay awake, wrestling with the dilemma as the night wore on.

  “Where you been, David? Leslie’s been looking for you for an hour,” Elliot greeted him as he hurried into work the next morning.

  David winced. “Overslept, I’m afraid.”

  Elliot laughed. “It should’ve been me who overslept, left with both young ladies to entertain.”

  Christ, David thought. Did he bed the two of- them? He stared at Elliot. The ginger-haired artist smoothed the ends of his mustache, his drawing pencil dangling carelessly from his fingers. He gave David a wink.

  David managed a weak laugh in return. Doubtless Elliot had never suffered a moment from the sorts of compunctions that had kept him awake till nearly dawn. He sighed under his breath and hurried on to Leslie’s office.

  “I overslept, I’m afraid,” he apologized.

  “Sit down, sit down. I wasn’t seeking you to complain about your hours.” Leslie waved toward a vacant chair and proffered a box of cigars. “Ah, yes, I’d forgotten you don’t indulge. Too bad. They’re good Havanas.” He selected one and busied himself lighting it.

  “I’ve had word from Art Lumley that he’s leaving my employ for Leggett’s Illustrated. I needn’t tell you, that leaves me in a pinch. I must have an artist I can depend on stationed with McClellan.

  “I’ll be hiring on as soon as I can, but I’d rather have a new employee under my direct supervision.” Leslie paused and puffed hugely on the cigar. “It hasn’t escaped my notice that you’ve been a bit restive with the amount of copying that’s been your lot of late.”

  David nodded, his surprise turning to thoughtfulness. Perhaps he ought to take the chance to get away from New York. If he’d stayed with the army last year, he might’ve broken himself of the habit of sin he’d fallen into with Zach. For a second the memory of Ellsworth’s death surfaced vividly in his mind. Still—

  “I don’t know what to say,” he said finally. “I’m past the age of most of the field artists.”

  “I did give your age a bit of thought. But to all appearances, you’re in as good condition as many a younger man.”

  David smiled. “I try to maintain my health. I exercise at Ottignon’s gymnasium once or twice a week, if I’ve time.”

  “A practice most of us would do well to emulate. May I assume you’re agreeable then?”

  “I— I’m not sure. I’d like to give it some thought.” Damn. Why the hell couldn’t he just agree to go?

  Leslie smoothed out a grimace of annoyance. “Think it over a day or so, by all means. In the meantime, I want you to stop by the New York Hospital tomorrow, do a few sketches of the wounded from the second Bull Run engagement.”

  David nodded, wondering again why he hadn’t just agreed to take the assignment and be done with it.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  “I’m damned if I know why I put him off,” he told Zach that evening. “I should’ve just told him I’d go instead of hemming and hawing.” David glanced out Zach’s window, then continued pacing restlessly around the small room.

  “Well, I’m damned glad you didn’t, I’ll tell you that. Especially without even talking it over first.” Zach set the book he’d been reading next to him on the bed and swung his feet to the floor. “Will you stop walking in circles and sit down.”

  David lowered himself onto Zach’s chair.

  “You turned down Leslie’s request to stay at the front last year, and very sensibly so. Why the sudden urge to see bloodshed?”

  “It’s not so sudden. I’ve hardly done a damn bit of work outside of copying since then. I’ve gotten sick of sitting at my drawing table day after day. For that matter, I’m sick of sitting in that damned tavern every night listening to you all second guess McClellan’s strategy. And of seeing that damn poet you’re so fond of, who can’t even write two lines that rhyme, and watching you all fawn over that damn bunch of Bohemians who think because they’re authors they can look down on everyone else!” David stopped short, surprised at his own vehemence.

  “Sick of our friendship?”

  “Of— No, not of our friendship. Never of that.”

  Zach’s breath escaped in a sudden rush.

  David stared at his hands, absently picking at the calloused pencil bump on his third finger. “We should leave it at friendship. We never should’ve carried it further.”

  “That’s a far cry from your words last night.”

  “Christ, I know that. When we’re together, it just feels so natural and good, I forget everything except how much I want you.” David stared down in silence. “It’s afterwards....” he said, finally.

  “I know how you feel. I don’t much relish creeping down the hall, shoes in hand, myself. In fact, I’ve been thinking of late. If we were to pool our resources, I daresay we might afford to take lodgings together.”

  David drew in his breath, imagining lying nightly by Zach, waking up next to him, talking to him freely without the listening ears of a dozen fellow lodgers. He fought down a surge of longing. “For God’s sake, Zach, have you gone crazy? Isn’t there talk enough already to suit you?”

  “There’s nothing to cause talk if two bachelor gentlemen pool their funds to secure better lodgings. As you said, sometimes I get confounded sick at the thought of spending the rest of my days in a boardinghouse. I’d dearly love some little place that would be more of a home.”

  “No! Damn it, Zach, no!”

  “Calm yourself, David.” Zach stood and walked behind the chair. He placed his hands on David’s shoulders, kneading the tense muscles of his back and neck. “You’ve let Byron distress you unduly.”

  “He has nothing to do with it! Oh hell, I guess you’re right. I think he’s made me see us a little more clearly.”

  “Us?”

  “We’re as perverted as he is. It’s good Leslie wants me at the front. We need to get away from each other a while to break ourselves of it.”

  “I’ve no desire to break myself of you!”

  “You think I want to do without your company?” David reached up to touch Zach’s hand. Zach’s fingers entwined with his. David fought back another wave of longing. He jerked free and rose. “We can’t keep on like this.”

  “David, listen to me—”

  “I’ve made up my mind.” David yanked open the door and fled down the hall.
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  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  The clatter of silverware on breakfast dishes mingled with the clearing of throats and mumbled “good mornings” as David took his place at the table. He muttered a greeting to old Mr. Wilson on his left. Zach sank into his accustomed chair at David’s right. “You’re heading in to tell Leslie you’ll take the assignment?” he greeted David.

  “As soon as I’ve done the sketches at the hospital.”

  “I hoped once you slept on it, you’d change your mind.”

  David busied himself with his eggs, washing them down with hasty swallows of coffee. “I told you, I’ve decided.” His chair clattered against the wall as he shoved it back, bringing a frown from Mrs. Chapman. He muttered a quick apology as he fled.

  Zach followed him into the hallway. “Listen to me a minute—”

  “Zach, I’m in a hurry.”

  “I daresay you can spare me five minutes.” Zach laid a hand on David’s shoulder. “You’ve not thought this through—”

  David jerked away. “Dammit, Zach, do we have to make a spectacle of ourselves in front of the whole boardinghouse?” He looked at Zach’s face and sighed. “All right, walk with me to the hospital then.”

  They strode two blocks in silence. Zach cleared his throat. “There’s more to take into account than just your feelings about our friendship. In fact, I’m damned if I can understand your eagerness for the front, considering how little stomach you have for bloodshed.”

  “I suppose I can accustom myself to the sight of bloodshed.”

  “It’s more than the sight, David.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about the risk to your own life!”

  “I’m going as an artist, not a soldier.” Zach halted. He caught David’s arm and pulled him around to face him. “David, to sketch scenes of the fighting like those Lumley’s been sending, you’d have to expose yourself to fire as much as if you were a soldier!”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Give it some thought, will you!”