Alex & Clayton

by John Simpson

  THAT evening, Clay arrived at the Blue Moon Restaurant a little before seven and waited outside so that he and Blake could go in together. The air was turning a little cool, but it was still a fine evening to be outdoors. Finally, Clay saw Blake walking up the sidewalk in a tight pair of new-looking jeans and a pullover sweater. Clay immediately felt overdressed in his dress pants, shirt, and tie.

  “Don’t you look nice there, sexy!” Blake said as he walked up the steps to where Clay was waiting.

  Clay blushed. “You look very nice also. I hope I’m not overdressed this evening,” he said in return.

  “Nah, you’ll fit right in. Come on, let’s go in and get our table. I’m starving!” Blake said as he grabbed onto Clayton’s hand and began to guide him in. Startled, Clay quickly withdrew his hand from Blake’s grasp.

  Blake looked back and frowned but said nothing. Once they were seated and had placed an order for beverages, Blake looked at Clayton.

  “The way you reacted to me taking your hand reminded me of someone who stuck their finger in a light socket. Did I do something wrong?

  “I was just taken by surprise, that’s all. Please forget it, it’s nothing.”

  A waiter returned to the table and set an iced tea down in front of Clayton and a martini in front of Blake. He told the couple he would return in a minute to take their dinner order.

  Blake raised his glass in a toast. “To a very nice-looking gentleman who I hope to get to know a lot closer.”

  “Oh, ah, yes,” Clayton said as he raised his glass of tea. He began talking to cover his nervousness. “So, tell me, Blake, what do you do for a living, since I assume you live here year round?”

  “Actually, I live here and in Philadelphia, where I run an advertising agency. Most of my work is done via computer, so it allows me the luxury of living where I want and still be able to do my job. It’s one of the benefits of the modern age. What did we do before the Internet?”

  “I see. So what would you say is your average time in each place?”

  “I live here most of the spring, summer, and fall, and in Philly during the winter. It can get real cold here, as you’ll see. It even snows occasionally. It’s not all that different from living in Philly, so I use the winter months to work on any problems that have come up. Of course, I can always run up there if I’m here, so I do have the best of both worlds.”

  They ordered dinner, and while they ate, Blake filled Clayton in on the “dark secrets” of Rehoboth Beach. These secrets turned out to be where the best sex parties were, who was wealthy, and who had the prettiest young men hanging around their houses during the summer. Clay didn’t say much, as he really wasn’t used to gossiping about other people’s sex lives or how they chose to entertain themselves.

  Blake paid the check over Clayton’s objections. Clay felt they should split it, but Blake won. They walked out of the restaurant and into the night where Blake once again took Clayton’s hand. It still made Clayton nervous, and he looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching.

  When they stopped at Clay’s car, Blake took Clay into his arms and tried to kiss him. Clayton broke away and stumbled backward.

  “Please, we’re in public! We hardly even know each other, and you’re trying to kiss me,” Clay said in shock and anger.

  “Oh come on! This is Rehoboth Beach! Gays practically run this place. We own most of the businesses, have gay cops, and in the summer, you’ll see a lot more than just two guys kissing on a street!”

  “I don’t care. I’m not used to such behavior.”

  “Okay, so you like things to be private. I get it, not a problem. Do you wanna go to your place or mine?”

  “For what?”

  “For what? To fuck, of course! I wanna get into what’s under your clothes and own it!” Blake said loudly.

  “I’ll assume the four drinks you had are making you behave so crudely. I have no intention of going anywhere with you to “fuck,” as you put it. Another thing, no one owns me or my body. Now, thank you for a nice evening and be careful going home,” Clay said as he turned around to get into his car.

  As Clayton pulled away, Blake stood at the curb in shock at being turned down. No one said no to sex. What the hell was wrong with this guy?

  “Jerkoff!” he shouted after Clayton, who was much too far away to hear it.

  While Clayton drove home, he fought to get his composure back. No one had ever grabbed him like that on a public street and kissed him! And then the guy thought he was going to fuck him that night? Not a chance, buddy. Clayton was brought up better than that, or so he liked to think—despite his previous forays into instant gratification that never brought fulfillment. Maybe going out on dates wasn’t as good an idea as he’d thought. He had gotten along fine for many years without getting tangled up with a guy, and maybe that was the type of life he was meant for.

  Oh, but what about Alex? Should he cancel his date with Alex? That was going to take place at Alex’s house—the house of a virtual stranger—not even in a public place. Anything could happen. Why am I so uptight over sex and love? Clay wondered as he pulled into his parking space at the condo. He got out, looking around warily as if expecting to see Blake charging at him with a raging hard-on intent on raping him right there in the parking lot.

  But there was no Blake, and when Clayton closed and locked his condo door, he breathed a sigh of relief. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he clenched his fists as he thought over the evening.

  “Why the fuck can’t I deal with this shit like every other gay guy? Why do I have to be such an uptight asshole?” he asked in the silence of his home.

  He went to bed early and tossed and turned while playing the incident over and over in his mind, trying at the same time to decide if he should cancel his date with Alex on Saturday night. Finally, he drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

  THE next morning, Clayton got up and went through his usual routine. It was Friday, and he briefly thought about not opening the store on Saturday. As he drove to the shop, a nervous flutter stirred in his stomach as he thought about Blake and what might happen if he came into the store today. Would Blake be angry at not getting sex last night? Was a guy expected to put out if a guy bought him dinner? Was Clayton wrong for saying no? After all, what was the difference between going into an adult bookstore and blowing a guy through a hole in the wall and being expected to do the same thing on a bed after a nice dinner?

  When he finished opening up, he restocked a couple of the book racks while he was trying to decide about Alex. Alex was a retired cop who could reasonably be expected to follow the rules of polite company. On the other hand, Clay had always heard that cops were horny men and needed sex a lot. He had once heard a saying: “You don’t mess with a cop’s food, or his sexual partner.” To do either was to gain the ire of someone who carried a gun and was trained to use it.

  Just after noon, Clayton’s stomach turned over as he saw Blake walking toward the shop. He didn’t like confrontation at all, especially when he was the center of the controversy.

  “Hello,” Blake said when he entered the store, looking around to see if they were alone.

  “Good afternoon,” Clayton responded out of habitual politeness.

  “Look, dude, you owe me some kind of explanation for last night. I treated you well, took you out to dinner, and when I kissed you, you reacted like I had slapped you! What the hell, man? And then you just drove off leaving me with blue balls. You do that to every guy you go out with?”

  “First of all, that was my first date. Second, where I come from, we don’t do such things in public, and finally, for you to think you were going to get sex merely for buying me dinner is just wrong. I have to get to know someone before I take off my clothes, and I’m sorry if you got some signal that made you expect that you were going to get laid last night. I’ll be happy to pay for my part of the dinner, if you’ll tell me how much it was.”

  “Fucking unreal. Forget it; I invited you out for dinn
er. As for the sex, forget that too. You probably have a small dick anyway,” Blake said as he swung around and walked out of the store, leaving the door open.

  Clayton was slightly shaken by Blake’s behavior, but after he settled down, he became angry. What right did Blake have to talk to him like that? Was Blake typical of the kind of men around here? Was it really worth the aggravation to find someone?

  Chapter Six

  LATE that same afternoon, when the shop phone rang, Clayton answered expecting questions about what books were in stock. Instead, he found Alex on the phone.

  “Hi, Clay, just checking to make sure we’re on for tomorrow night. You know, dinner at my place and a movie?”

  “Oh, dear, I’m not sure, Alex. I’m having second thoughts about seeing anyone socially.”

  “What? Did something happen, or are you just not interested in me?” Alex asked.

  “No, it’s not you, believe me. It’s just that…. I went out on a date last night that ended terribly, and it ran over into my shop today. I’m miserable and not even sure I wanna see people.”

  “You’re not making one damn bit of sense. Start from the beginning, and tell me all about it, if you’re not busy,” Alex asked.

  “No, I can talk. The shop is empty right now,” Clay paused and then began his story. “A customer asked me out on a date. Dinner at the Blue Moon, and nothing else planned for afterward as far as I knew. Well, the dinner was fine, but when we walked outside, he grabbed me and kissed me right in the middle of the street! I pushed him away, and that’s when he told me he had expected that we’d have sex. Apparently in his worldview, buying dinner equates to my paying for it later with my body. I told him no, got in my car, and drove home, leaving him angry at me. He came into the store today and told me what he thought of me for not putting out last night. I thought at one point he might hit me. Instead, he insulted me and left.”

  “I’m truly sorry to hear that you had that experience. Look, the guy is a jerk. Probably one in three guys is a jerk. The trick to dating is trying to determine who is and who isn’t a jerk. What was this guy’s name?”

  “Blake,” Clayton replied.

  “Okay, Blake is a jerk, and you learned a lesson. But that lesson isn’t to stop seeing people. You’ll lead a very lonely life doing that!”

  “Alex, are you a jerk?”

  “No, I’m not. The only thing I want from tomorrow night is to eat dinner with you and to enjoy a movie afterward. While I find you very attractive, I have no intention of putting any moves on you. See, I don’t happen to think that dinner equals sex. So, how about it? You gonna trust a retired federal cop?”

  Clay smiled. “Okay, sir, I’ll trust you. Yes, we’re still on for tomorrow night.”

  “You’re gonna get a spanking, I’m warning you!”

  “Huh?”

  “You called me sir again!”

  “Oh no, sorry. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” Clay said with a laugh.

  “Good. See you then.”

  CLAY hung up the phone in a lot better frame of mind than when it rang. Blake was gone from his thoughts, and only Alex took up space now. He looked at his watch, saw that it was closing time, and quickly went through his closing routine. He made the bank drop and went home. That night while he watched television, all he could think about was the handsome cop he’d be seeing tomorrow night.

  THE next day flew by as Clayton dealt with more customers than he ever thought he would outside of the season. It proved to him that there were many full-time residents who were gay. When he got home, he jumped in the shower, shaved, and put on nice casual clothes. He checked himself in the mirror and was generally pleased with his reflection. He certainly wasn’t the beautiful twenty-year-old he once was, but he thought he was aging fairly well.

  He left his house with the piece of paper that Alex had given him and headed for the address on Baltimore Avenue. He found the house with no problem and was impressed by the size of the residence and its location. In front it had a manicured lawn and what he could only imagine was a beautiful garden during the spring and summer.

  He nervously rang the doorbell, and a moment later, Alex opened the door and stood there looking through the screen.

  “Hi, Clay, come on in. You look great tonight, but you really didn’t have to get all fancy for my house,” Alex said with a chuckle.

  “This? Oh, this isn’t fancy. These are my relaxed clothes.”

  “Oh, I see. Well then, we have a different definition of relaxed clothes. Would you like something to drink? How about a glass of wine?” He gestured for Clay to enter.

  “Yes, I think I will. Your house is beautiful, by the way, both outside and inside. And I like your taste in furniture,” Clay said as he walked in and around the living room.

  “Thanks, but as you can see, the walls are bare. I’m not too good when it comes to picking out artwork.”

  “Really? Well, I’d be happy to help you with that. I love to shop for art, and it does finish off a house when you have everything else in place.”

  “Well, sit, make yourself at home. It’s gotten a little cool, so I think we’ll skip sitting out on the deck. Be right back.”

  Clayton sat down on the sofa, looking around at the beautiful things that Alex had placed in his home. He didn’t expect such refinement as he assumed a man like Alex would prefer a rather more basic and practical style.

  Alex came around the corner with a tray with two glasses of wine on it along with three different varieties of cheese and some crackers.

  “Here ya go, and please have some cheese,” Alex said as he sat down on the sofa with Clay.

  “That looks great, Alex! I love cheeses from all over the world, but I’m just as happy with the plain ole American cheeses.”

  They sat back and sipped some wine as they munched on the cheese and crackers.

  “There’s a wonderful smell coming from the kitchen,” Clay observed.

  “It should all be ready in about twenty minutes. That gives me another five for sitting here with you before I have to return to the kitchen.”

  “What are you making?”

  “Ah, you’ll have to wait until you sit down at the table to find that out,” Alex answered with a laugh.

  “Now I’m really intrigued. I hope you didn’t go through a whole lot of trouble just for me,” Clay said.

  “When you have guests, no amount of trouble is too much. I hope you enjoy what I’m preparing, and now I really have to go check on things. I’ll give you a shout if I need anything. If you want another glass of wine, just come on out to the kitchen.”

  Clay sat happily on the sofa munching away on the various cheeses and sipping his wine—which he found quite passable to his surprise. Clay made a mental note to check his police-officer-stereotype files and remove the ones that were obviously very wrong.

  “DINNER is served. If you’ll please come this way,” Alex said when he came back into the room. “Bring your wine with you.”

  Clayton walked into a beautiful dining room with a chandelier over the table and a formal sideboard as well as a china cabinet. As Clay took the chair Alex pointed to, he looked at the very nicely set table and was astonished by the menu.

  “Is this beef Wellington?” Clay asked with surprise.

  “Ah, I’m glad you recognize it. I must have done something right then!”

  “You can make beef Wellington, whipped potatoes, green beans, and salad?”

  “You think the only things I eat are hot dogs and donuts?” Alex asked.

  “Oh, no, I just mean, this is not what I expected from a retired cop. No offense meant.”

  “I’ll only be offended if you don’t like my food,” replied Alex.

  They dug into dinner, and Clay made multiple comments on how well everything was prepared. When they had finished the food, along with a second glass of wine, Clay insisted on helping clear the table.

  “Do you want some help cleaning up in here too?” Clay asked
, looking around the kitchen.

  “Not on your life. Pour some more wine and have a seat in the living room. I’m gonna stack this stuff after rinsing it and throw it all in the dishwasher later. I’ll be in with you in ten minutes.

  “Fine, but I must say once more, that was an incredible meal. My compliments to you.”

  “Thank you, now scoot!”

  “Yes, si—Alex.”

  Alex looked over at Clay and smiled. Clay blushed and left the kitchen, and Alex got busy rinsing the dishes. While Alex cleaned up, Clay looked at the walls in the dining room and the living room, trying to imagine what sort of artwork would blend in with the furniture and the house itself. He would enjoy helping Alex choose a few pieces and decided to broach the subject again when his host returned.

  Alex rejoined Clayton with a glass of wine in his hand and sat down next to his guest. “Shall we just talk for a while before the movie?”

  “By all means. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I’d really like the chance to help you pick out some art. I could help you find pieces that not only go with your home, but that you’d enjoy seeing every day. We could go to some galleries, or it could even be done online.”

  “Thank you, I’d like that very much. Right now, as I said, the house looks unfinished and cold. Art would fix that problem.”

  “Fine. I’ll locate some pieces on the Internet and send the images to you so you can tell if you like them or not. You pick the ones you like, and I’ll get an idea of your taste in art.”

  “Excellent. I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

  “Great. Now, a change of subject. How come you never had a permanent partner? You were a good-looking cop, practically every gay male’s fantasy, and though you’re old enough to be retired, you’re still handsome. So why are you single?”

  “I might ask you the same thing! You’re a handsome man, and I’m sure you were hot as hell when you were in your twenties. Why don’t you have a partner?”