by John Inman
“You’re easy to be around,” Gray said. His voice was such a fragile wisp of sound it barely traveled through the dark.
“You’re easy to be around too,” Eddie said, staring up at the sky, afraid he’d blush if he looked at Gray, not that Gray could see it if he did. “How’s your ankle? Does it ache?”
Gray shook his head. “No. It’s fine. Itches, though. I’ll be glad to get this cast off.”
“I’ll bet.”
Eddie scooted his chair closer and laid a hand on Gray’s arm. Gray relaxed as if Eddie’s touch were exactly what he needed.
They turned to each other.
Before Gray could speak, Eddie said, “Don’t thank me again. It’s getting on my nerves.”
Gray frowned. Then he saw the teasing grin on Eddie’s face, and he let out a laugh. “I guess I am being a little obsequious. Sorry. I’m just not used to people helping me like this. Except for my lawyer offering me his cabin for a few months, the concept of ‘the kindness of others’ hasn’t exactly been a recurring theme in my life.”
Eddie saw the hurt in Gray’s eyes when he spoke the words. As well as the truth in them. Sliding his fingers through the silky hair on Gray’s arm, he muttered, “I’m sorry.”
Gray gave him a probing look. His expression softened when he apparently found what he had hoped to find in the contours of Eddie’s face.
“I know you’re sorry, Eddie. Thanks.”
Silence flooded in around them. Somewhere off in the sagebrush, an owl hooted. It was a mournful cry, as if the weight of the world were on the poor owl’s shoulders.
Gray was staring at the stars again. “I see why you named the refuge after the desert sky. It’s beautiful out here.”
Eddie turned his gaze upward. “Beautiful and lonely,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here to share it with me. The silence gets to me once in a while. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.”
In the darkness, he could hear Gray swallow. Gray spoke so softly, Eddie had to lean in close to hear him.
“The cabin was lonely too. Almost as lonely as prison.”
That grabbed Eddie’s attention. He turned to study Gray’s profile, what little he could see of it in the starlight. “Prisons are so crowded. How could you be lonely?”
Gray gazed down at Eddie’s hand on his arm. He laid his fingers over Eddie’s before answering.
“It’s a different kind of loneliness, I guess. It’s a self-imposed loneliness. To stay sane, you have to pull away from the other inmates, draw back from all the people around you. You have to let yourself sink into your own thoughts so you won’t go crazy, so you’ll stay in one piece. And you have to be ready to fight. Every minute of every day. Otherwise the men there will use you. They’ll take advantage of every weakness they find. It’s a game to them. A cruel game.”
Eddie could hear an ache in Gray’s voice that tore at his heart. “Did they… rape you?”
“No. Because I fought back.”
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Eddie carefully asked.
“Yes,” Gray said, sounding suddenly weary. “Learning to protect yourself is the only good thing that comes out of that place. If nothing else, prison made me strong. Inside, I mean.” He turned to Eddie with a grin. “Outside I’m still a hornyass beanpole.”
Eddie laughed as his fingers slipped more tightly around Gray’s arm. “Yeah, but a really handsome one.”
Gray squeezed Eddie’s fingers. Eddie supposed that was a thank-you.
LATER THAT night, Eddie lay wide-awake. Gray’s arm was a delicious weight draped over him. Gray was mumbling from inside a dream, his warm sleeping breath stirring the hair on Eddie’s chest. Gray’s heart pounded against Eddie’s side, as if whatever was happening inside the dream had frightened him.
Eddie wondered if he should wake him up. Then Gray gave a start. It seemed the dream had suddenly jolted him from his slumbers all on its own.
Eddie lay perfectly still, hoping Gray would fall back to sleep. The poor guy had suffered a lot of stress lately, and Eddie figured he needed the rest. But it was not to be. Gray’s eyelashes tickled Eddie’s skin as the young man’s eyes flickered open. Gray’s lips moved against his breast, and then Gray lifted his head and peered up through the darkness into Eddie’s waiting eyes. He snuggled closer, his arm trapping Eddie in a tighter embrace.
“Thank you, Eddie,” he whispered softly. “Thank you for doing what you’re doing.”
Eddie planted a kiss to Gray’s forehead through his tousled hair. “Thank you for doing what you’re doing,” Eddie whispered back.
There was confusion in Gray’s voice. “What am I doing?”
“You’re holding me, Gray. I really like it when you hold me.”
A beat of silence ensued. “You do?” Gray finally asked, the timbre of his words as fragile as a wisp of smoke.
But Eddie didn’t answer. He simply burrowed down in the bed and wrapped his arms around Gray, holding him close, returning the embrace. They lay anchored together, each holding tight to the other. The fingernail moon cast faint shadows through the bedroom window to blanket them in stillness. Soon Gray relaxed in Eddie’s arms and began to softly snore again.
Eddie lay for the longest time, simply smiling up at the darkness, relishing the feel of Gray’s lithe, warm body against his. Absorbing Gray’s warm breath as it flowed across his skin. Relishing the soft innocence of Gray’s sleeping cock nestled against his hip.
A tiny voice kept pecking at the back of his mind. Don’t do this, the voice told Eddie. It kept saying the same words, over and over again. Don’t do this. Don’t do this. Don’t do this.
When Gray mumbled again in his sleep and slid his hand up to caress Eddie’s cheek, Eddie pushed that inner voice away. He even went so far as to squeeze his eyes shut to block it from his consciousness. Then a new voice rose up. And as the new voice began to echo inside his head, Eddie eased over on his pillow and pressed a kiss into Gray’s hair, breathing in the luscious scent and loving the cotton softness of it on his face.
You’re a big boy, the new voice said. Screw the consequences. If you want to fall in love, then do it.
Eddie gave his head a tiny shake and whispered softly into the dark. “Thanks for the warning, but I think I already did.”
Chapter Seven
EDDIE’S FIRST day back to work at the Spangle Hardware Store was as boring as he expected it to be. The hours dragged by. Not because he wasn’t busy, nor because he wasn’t using muscles he hadn’t used for a while, and most assuredly not because those muscles weren’t creaking in agony by the time lunch rolled around.
No. The time crawled by because he missed being with Gray. In fact, he missed him so badly that six or seven times during the course of the day, he had to stop what he was doing and laugh at himself.
Geez, he’d think at those times, shaking his head in wonder. I’ve really got it bad.
He knew he was courting a broken heart. But for once in his life, he didn’t care. If his time with Gray should end one day, as he knew it surely would, he would simply have to ready himself for that day by enjoying the hell out of every moment they shared now. Eddie didn’t expect Gray to fall in love with someone twenty years his senior. Things like that didn’t happen in real life. A young man wanted to be around young people. A young man wanted to make love to young people.
But that didn’t mean Eddie couldn’t hold on to the connection he and Gray had made and, while it lasted, enjoy it for what it was. Later, after Gray dumped him and the pain of abandonment settled in, at least it wouldn’t be a big surprise. He would have had sense enough to expect it. And looking at it logically, even a shattered heart would be a small price to pay for the happiness he felt now.
At least that’s what he kept telling himself.
The minute five o’clock rolled around, Eddie flew through the store, barely waving goodbye to Ruth and ignoring the old fart Tommy completely. He leaped into his Jeep and took off down Spangle’s mai
n drag like a bat out of hell, spewing gravel from his back tires and impatiently honking his horn at a crow who had chosen that moment to casually poke-ass across the road with a Cheetos in its mouth like a belligerent pedestrian who wasn’t about to be rushed by anybody.
Eddie sat as tense as a fence post, hunkered over the steering wheel, his heart hammering in expectation, all the way home. When he pulled up in front of the refuge, all three dogs ran out to greet him. The only absentee was Gray, who was nowhere to be seen. Eddie raced through the front door and stopped in shock.
The living room was spotless! All the crap that had been scattered around for like forever was gone—the months-old newspapers, the crumpled-up potato chip bag that had lain on the coffee table since God knows when, the cardboard boxes that once held pet food he had stacked in the corner because he was forever meaning to stomp them flat and take them out to the trash but never got around to it. Even the quarter inch of dust that had gradually settled on the furniture and lampshades had been diligently brushed away. The carpet vacuumed. The windows cleaned. The cobweb in the corner that was practically an old friend now missing in action. At that very moment, a single beam of orange sunlight stabbed through the spotless living room window and didn’t catch a single dust mote as it streamed across the room. Amazing.
It was all such a mind-blowing surprise, Eddie actually clutched his chest like he might be having a coronary.
Then he frowned. Except for the animals, it was too quiet. The house felt empty. Where was Gray?
He stormed from room to room, frightening the cats and sending the dogs, even Louie, bounding off in every direction, searching mindlessly for whatever he was searching for, loyal mutts that they were.
Panic rising in his throat like bile, Eddie called out Gray’s name. Twice. On the second call, he heard an answer.
“Down here!” Gray bellowed up the basement stairs.
Eddie was so relieved he almost fainted. He banged through the basement door and clomped down the rickety wooden stairs on his size twelve work boots, grinning all the way.
Halfway down, he cried out, “You cleaned the living room!” because he still couldn’t quite believe it. Bouncing off the last step, he came face to face with Gray, who was standing there waiting for him with a smirk.
“Sorry, Eddie. But I’m anal as shit, to mangle a phrase. I had to clean your living room. It was driving me nuts. Hope you don’t mind.”
Eddie laughed. “Mind? Are you crazy? Clean anything you want. Hell, paint the house and add a rec room, I don’t care!”
Gray looked relieved. And pretty amused. He held up a paper bag.
Eddie’s eyebrows scrunched together. “What’s that?”
Gray opened the bag so Eddie could peek inside.
Again Eddie said, “What is that?”
Gray grinned. “It’s either the surgically removed sphincter of a cow, or a petrified donut. Take your pick. I found it under the couch.”
“Oh God. It’s probably carrying typhus. Throw that thing away.”
Gray instantly obeyed, flinging it back over his shoulder where it crashed against the basement wall with a fairly substantial clatter. Sort of like a brick.
Eddie narrowed his eyes. Threatening. “Never clean my house again.”
“Well, not without a hazmat suit, certainly,” Gray said, causing Eddie to groan with shame.
Perhaps taking pity, Gray cleared his throat and shyly said, “I adopted out one of the boa constrictors today.”
Eddie blinked. He had been trying to unload the two boa constrictors for over a year because frankly, he was tired of buying rats to feed them. “You didn’t.”
“No, I really did.”
“Which one?”
“The big one.”
“Frank?”
“Yeah. Frank.”
“But you told me you hate snakes. You wouldn’t even feed them. Weren’t you afraid to pick it up and hand it over?”
Gray’s ears turned red. “I gave them the cage and all. For an extra fee.” He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.
Still shocked, Eddie stood there like a putz and counted the money. Almost a hundred and fifty bucks. He blinked again and lifted his eyes to Gray. “Wow. You’ve been here less than a day, and already the money’s rolling in.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Gray snorted. “I doubt if I’ll ever find a home for that ugly orange cat in Hut 3 with one eye, not much hair, and a gimpy tail. He bit me, by the way.”
“Yeah, finding a home for Satan would be beyond even your capabilities. And he bites everybody. Don’t think you were singled out.”
“His name is Satan? Figures.”
They both laughed.
“Anyway,” Eddie mumbled for lack of anything smarter to say. “Thank you. For the snake and for the living room. And hell, for anything else you might have risked your life doing while I was gone.”
“There wasn’t much else, but you’re welcome.”
“How’s your ankle?”
“It’s okay.”
“Good.”
Gray was looking embarrassed, eyes down, but still a tiny smile played at his lips. He hesitantly reached out and laid a hand over Eddie’s heart, as if for some reason he simply needed to make contact. Eddie wondered if Gray could feel it pounding.
Tempted to yank Gray into a hug, but trying not to make a romantic sap of himself, Eddie found himself gazing around the basement. He’d forgotten what a mess it was.
“Um. What are you doing down here? Don’t tell me you’re still in the mood to clean.”
Rather than answer, Gray turned and tilted his chin at the back wall.
“What?” Eddie asked. “What are you staring at?”
Gray pointed. “Piano.”
Eddie gazed at the ancient upright piano his aunt had left with the house. Since Eddie had no use for it, being about as musical as a pound of bacon, he had manhandled it down to the basement out of the way shortly after moving in.
Eddie remembered the piano at the cabin where Gray had been staying. The piano and the cup of coffee cooling at the end of the keyboard.
Suddenly he understood. “You play.”
Gray blushed again. “Yeah. I do.”
“Is it still in tune?”
“Pretty much. I’ll show you.”
The keyboard was already exposed, the ivory and ebony keys shiny and bright. Gray must have already cleaned them before Eddie came home. Eddie wondered if just before his arrival the house had been filled with music for the first time in a decade. Caught up in Gray’s excitement, Eddie shadowed Gray right up to the edge of the piano. He reached out and laid a tentative finger to the scrollwork in the wood. Funny, but he’d never realized how beautifully made the old piano was.
Gray flung aside the sheet that still covered the top of the old upright, raising a cloud of dust. He strolled his fingers up and down the keys, from the lowest octave to the highest high note without hitting a single discordant note along the way. As if powerless to stop himself, he pulled out the bench, lowered himself down onto it, and wiggled his ass into a comfortable position.
He flexed his fingers and spread them over the keys. Eddie noticed Gray’s ears were red again, but he didn’t look embarrassed or out of place. Actually, Gray looked right at home sitting at the piano. He gazed up at Eddie with a light in his eyes Eddie had never seen there before. It was almost the expression Gray wore during sex, but different somehow. More controlled. Calmer, but still excited.
“You like Debussy?” Gray asked, still peering up at Eddie over his shoulder.
Now it was Eddie’s turn to blush. “Heck if I know. Never heard it.”
“Him,” Gray said, biting back a tiny laugh. “Never heard him. Debussy’s a composer.”
“Oh.”
Gray faced the piano. Straightening his back, he stretched his fingers one last time and started playing. To Eddie’s amazement, it was a song he immediately recognized. “Hey, I
know that! It’s ‘Clair de Lune’! Is that Debussy?”
Still playing, Gray snickered, “Nothing gets by you.”
“But you don’t have any sheet music.”
Gray gave him a desperado leer and beetled his eyebrows. “I don’t need no stinking sheet music.”
The music filled the basement, and Eddie was captivated by the richness of it. The deft movement of Gray’s fingers over the keys was mesmerizing to watch. The familiar melody swelled around him, filling the basement, the house, and probably the dog runs outside. In Eddie’s imagination, it was like some sort of delicate physical presence wafting through the air. A cloud of butterflies, perhaps. Or a flock of gracefully swooping wrens, singing as they flew.
Awed by the beauty of the music, and the expression of peace that lit Gray’s face as his fingers danced across the keys, Eddie carefully lowered himself onto the bench beside him. Folding his hands in his lap so they wouldn’t be in the way, he sat watching the blink of the keys, listened to the gentle whump of the foot pedal down below as Gray softly pumped it, stared mesmerized as Gray’s lean fingers coaxed such delicate music from the long-abandoned keys. Tearing his eyes from Gray’s hands, he glanced down at the dogs, who must have been enticed by the sounds and now lay splayed out on the floor around them, ears up, as hypnotized by the music as Eddie.
When the song ended, Gray lifted his hands reverently from the keys and glanced shyly at Eddie. His eyes were as bright as shiny new dimes.
“Wow,” Eddie breathed, and once again Gray blushed.
Eddie turned to stare at the old Baldwin. He cocked his head to the side and studied it for a minute, the carved wood front that rose up higher than his head from where he sat. The fat whorled legs that extended down from either end of the keyboard, more ornamental than practical since you couldn’t have knocked the piano over with a tow truck anyway. Then he gazed at Gray and offered a second good-natured “Wow” to let Gray know he was duly impressed. He couldn’t see them, but Eddie imagined his own eyes were just as bright as Gray’s. And not only because of the music, but because of the beauty of the young man sitting beside him. The young man who kept surprising him at every turn.
