Divine Intervention

by Francis Gideon

  “Good, good,” Evan said when he had inserted three fingers.

  “Yeah,” Bart said, biting his lip. “Yeah. Go.”

  He looked over his shoulder and met Evan’s eyes. Just the stare alone was enough to make Evan’s whole body twitch. He moved his fingers out of Bart and then placed a heavy hand on his lower back. Evan pushed Bart down, gripping his ass as Evan began to ready himself.

  “I’m going,” Evan announced, allowing Bart enough time to acclimatize his body.

  Bart made a low noise at the back of his throat once contact was made.

  “You okay?”

  Another low noise. A nod of his head. “Keep going.”

  Evan pushed himself in farther. Farther, farther, until he even had to stop to ready himself. He placed both hands on Bart’s back and then trailed one down until he gripped his cock. Bart hissed in air between his cheeks.

  “Go,” he murmured, barely audible

  “What?”

  “Go,” Bart said again. “Come on.”

  Evan slid in another inch and then waited.

  “Come on,” Bart pestered. “What are you waiting for?”

  Evan released a breath when he was all the way in. He dug his nails in so hard against Bart’s skin that he worried he’s leave marks. Small half-moons greeted him when he lifted his hand. But no blood, no bruises. He trailed his fingers over the marks loosely and then placed a hand on Bart’s neck. He leaned his body down over his back, allowing his cock to slide out slightly.

  He breathed heavily in Bart’s ear, biting his lip before he uttered, “You, always waiting for you.”

  Before Bart had a chance to respond (if he even heard Evan), Evan slid in and out again. He began to thrust, going at a slowed pace to help quell his own arousal. Bart placed his head over his arms on the couch, looking down as he arched his back up and pressed his body into Evan’s over and over again.

  Come on, Bart’s back and position seemed to say. Keep going, keep going. The low moans at the back of Bart’s throat seemed to echo this sentiment. Evan didn’t need much convincing. Already an acolyte, he allowed his body to take over the rhythm. He bit his tongue in the side of his mouth to keep from coming and quickened his pace when Bart seemed amiable. It was the only way to keep from exploding. As soon as Evan slowed his body down, as soon as he looked at the way Bart moved his back and into him, Evan knew it would be all over. The one event that seemed to have been stretched out across the entire night would be– poof, gone in a matter of seconds if he didn’t control himself just right.

  “Pull my hair,” Bart said, his face barely above a whisper.

  “What?” Evan lowered his body again, almost sliding out so he could ask again. “What?”

  “Pull my hair,” Bart repeated. “It will help. Gentle, then firm. Pull it.”

  Evan didn’t think about the request. He pushed his hand down Bart’s back and over his spine under he reached the warm area at the back of his neck. Using what he could of his left hand, he gathered it all together again. He waited. The request came again.

  “Pull my hair.”

  And so he obeyed. He pulled lightly at first, and then hearing the break in Bart’s voice and the same way he hissed air past his teeth when aroused, Evan did it again. He watched as Bart’s hands snaked to his erection and began to work furiously. Evan closed his eyes. The sight was almost too much. He pulled at Bart’s hair again and heard the same noise. He could see the way his body was moving now, even without watching. He knew the way he would respond. When Evan slowed his pace, he felt the way that Bart made up for it. He gave the hair one final tug and heard the noise he knew was coming—a sudden choke and then gasp. He opened his eyes and watched as Bart came into his hands.

  Evan slid his body down over Bart’s again, sliding out and then sliding back in. He allowed himself to become part of Bart’s moments, his aches and pains and pressure points. And when he thought about worship, about how he couldn’t wait to do this again, every day, like a mantra or a prayer circle, to get on his knees in front of him, Evan lost all sense of the moments. He let out a low growl as he came. He thrust a few more times, smiling into it, and then let his body go. He slid down over Bart again, touching his hair. He pulled it, but gently this time, so their mouths could meet.

  “Oh God,” Evan said in between breathes. “Oh God.”

  “Good guy,” Bart joked. “But I’ve seen better.”

  Evan grabbed Bart by the face and pressed a kiss against his mouth. He felt Bart laugh into the kiss, and that was when he knew: they were both done for.

  True believers, Evan thought. All the way.

  Chapter 7

  In the quiet moments after sex, Evan found himself remembering the late winter night, pretty much a year ago to the day, which Liam proposed to Sarah.

  He had done so at a a Chinese restaurant. Her birthday was in February, close to Valentine’s Day, but not quite on the fourteenth. Liam decided to take them all out on the thirteenth to the new place that opened around the corner from his work.

  “It’s the best dinner, I swear to you,” he had explained with really choppy hand motions as they all walked from the subway.

  “Uh-huh,” Evan said. He plunged his hands deep into his thin jacket to keep him warm. “You say that about every single Chinese place you find. I swear, it’s all MSG and egg rolls that don’t even keep us all full beyond an hour anyway.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes back to Evan. “As opposed to the ground up pig hooves that go into your street meat?”

  “That is a delicacy which only a few people can truly appreciate.”

  “Or stomach it,” Sarah said back. She slid an arm around Liam as he continued to motion with his hands excitedly.

  “You’ll see, guys. Just trust me on this on, okay?” He turned around to face Bart and Evan, who fell into formation behind Liam and Sarah. He smiled and nodded, gesturing more with his hands. “We’re all going to have a good time tonight. Don’t worry.”

  “Don’t panic,” Evan said under his breath, mostly to Bart. He smiled. The two friends knew right from the spontaneous dinner announcement so closed to Sarah’s birthday and Valentine’s Day that the engagement ring was going to suddenly become manifest. Not to mention that Sarah’s sister had been invited to dinner and she lived three hours away. She was driving in for the affair and insisted that they all start without her if she was late.

  “Do you think she knows?” Bart leaned over to Evan and lifted his eyebrows. His equally thin jacket seemed to not prepare him for the wind as well as Evan. Sarah and Liam both were done up in their best cashmere sweaters and pea coats. Liam was even wearing a tie underneath his sweater and collared shirt combination, a tie that Bart had to help him with before they all piled onto the subway. From their mismatched attires, Evan began to feel like a kid next to his parents. At least, he thought, that Bart was in this with him.

  “I don’t know,” Evan answered. He casually glanced at Sarah. Her normally wavy hair seemed curlier than usual. And when he caught a glimpse of her hands, fake nails adorned them.

  “Definitely,” Evan uttered. “Yeah. She’s gotta know.”

  “Well, at least they’re being good about it. “

  “Yeah, you know what they say. The proposal is never for the actual couple. I think they probably planned it all out last night and may just do it for her sister.”

  “Or Facebook photo,” Bart added.

  Evan laughed. “Yeah. Well, the show must go on.”

  Bart laughed and held his arm in the air, as if they were both charging in for battle. They came to a sudden stop at a traffic light and Liam caught a glimpse of them over his shoulder.

  “What are you two idiots doing?”

  “Be nice, Liam,” Sarah chastised him.

  “Yes. Be nice dad,” Evan joked. “We are supporting you in your endeavor.”

  Liam sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s a damn good thing we’re almost here, then.”

  Liam turned
into the dark doorway of a newly renovated restaurant, still a little shaky on his feet. He held the door open for Sarah, touching her back softly as they all shuffled inside.

  “This place looks familiar,” Evan stated just before they reached the hostess. “Didn’t this used to be a CD store?”

  Bart nodded.

  “How would you know? Didn’t you just move here?”

  “Yeah, but, a lot more are closing. The guys down at Déjà vu Discs are keeping an eye on this stuff. If we don’t, we may be out of a job.” Bart nodded somberly. “And I kind of like it here. I don’t really want to move again.”

  The pang of realization hit Evan slowly. If Bart couldn’t afford rent, there would be no way he could stay with Liam anymore. If the affair went off as planned, then the two of them could no longer bum rides from Liam whenever he borrowed his family’s car or crash on his couch. Maybe even the Friday night club scene would be done too, with Sarah in the picture as the fiancé rather than the long-time, super-cool girlfriend.

  “Yeah,” Evan said his voice low. “Yeah, I can imagine.”

  “Hey, sad sacks by the door,” Liam called out to them. “We’re moving to our table.”

  As the two of them held on to their jackets, they moved through the restaurant and felt a wave of heat from the back. That’s when Liam’s words of romance and excitement about the restaurant began to make more sense: at the back of the room was an open grill. It was large, taking up most of the back room. Heat wafted off of it and a man in a white uniform with large swords began to cut up a fish.

  “Is there a separate grill for vegetarian?” Sarah asked.

  Liam nodded, not taking his eyes off the large blades. He gazed back at Evan and Bart. “What do you think, guys?”

  “Okay,” Evan relented, holding his hands up. The heat from the grill moved through the restaurant and warmed his fingertips. “I’ll give it to you, Liam. You sure know how to plan the mood.”

  The four of them seated themselves at the back of the restaurant, across from the grill and waited for a waitress to take their order. Evan sat facing the large man with swords, Bart to his side. Sarah and Liam were across from them, with Sarah closest to the door so she could spot her sister Amy when she came in.

  “Should we wait until she arrives to order?”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Sarah said with a wave of her hand. She peered over her menu. “I know that girl. She’ll make an excuse to not eat a full meal anyway. I guarantee she’ll show up halfway through. Now, I think this looks good. What do you think, Liam?”

  He placed a shocked hand to his face. “I was thinking the same things. Soul mates?” Liam gasped again, overzealous with the whole affair. Sarah rolled her eyes and changed her order. She stuck her tongue out at him when Liam feigned sorrow.

  Evan couldn’t help but laugh in his seat. He could feel the nervousness radiating off of Liam. If he didn’t know any better, he could probably zone in on the specific pocket that the ring was kept inside and be able to decipher with an accurate radius. Liam never got this worked up about anything. The last time, Evan struggled to remember, was when he knew Daniel was gay and his parents didn’t. During that entire thanksgiving weekend that Daniel said he was going to come out, Liam just bounced off the walls. He kept baking cakes, for some unknown reason, and then he kept going out for Chinese food again.

  Evan eyed Liam’s torso, scanning for the ring, after they all ordered and leaned back in their chair. A soft ridge of belly fat hung over his belt. Not much, nothing that would make him unattractive. But it was the beginning of that married man’s weight that came on after thirty or so hit. The lure to go to the gym was gone; the good office job made a person stay late nights and order take out far too often. Sarah too, Evan had noticed, had put on some weight. It was nothing to worry about, not really, especially since it meant she filled out her tops and shirt more.

  Evan leaned back in his chair and eyed Bart unconsciously. He was still skinny as ever, his younger metabolism and physical job still getting the best of him. And lack of love, Evan considered. He looked down at himself now, gauging his memory of his youthful body wresting and going rowing with Daniel, and then this new, more laid back figure. Not fat, but nothing like he used to be.

  “You know,” Evan stated aloud. “I don’t quite think this is fair.”

  “And what’s that, Evan?” Sarah asked with a raise of her light eyebrows.

  “Getting older. I didn’t sign up for this.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Sarah said. She laughed a little and looked at her watch. She sighed. “And yet again, here we are. I’m going to be…twenty-nine soon. And I just can’t stand it.”

  “Sweetheart, you’ll always look good to me,” Liam said.

  “Yes, if I can’t have ideals, then I’ll at least settle for context,” Sarah said with a wry smile. She leaned into Liam and kissed him quickly. She looked past his head and then sighed when she saw no sign of her sister.

  They made idle chatter for a while, sometimes exchanging horror story about aging and other such foibles.

  “I remember running up stairs and suddenly realizing that I couldn’t run as fast,” Liam lamented. His office was on the fourth floor of his building and the elevators seemed to never want to work at least once a month.

  “I remember when I wasn’t able to do all-nighters anymore,” Sarah added.

  “Or when depression actually did feel…de-pressing, like something was crushing you, versus the over-dramatic sadness from youth,” Evan said.

  “I believe,” Liam said, leaning in and trying to lighten the mood, “that that feeling is called ennui. The daily doldrums of everyday life.”

  “Ah, yes, I shall take it from the expert.”

  Liam bowed and moved his hands overzealously. Then, in the blink of an eye, he touched the front pocket of his suit jacket. And Evan committed to memory the spot where the ring was. He eyed Bart, who seemed to be staring into his glass.

  “And you, Bart?” Liam said, taking notice alongside Evan. “How did you realize you were old?”

  “Even though you are the youngest here,” Sarah added with a small wink.

  “Was it when you started to hear us all complain?” Liam added again when Bart was still silent.

  “I think…” he said slowly.

  He didn’t get to finish before Sarah suddenly began to wave. She got up from her seat, her bracelets clanging behind her, and went over to meet Amy. A tall woman with curly red hair flowed down the other side of Sarah’s white top. The two of them exchanging quick and excited words before Amy unbuttoned her coat and sat at the end of the table.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said. “I got caught in traffic.”

  “Nonsense,” Liam declared, moving some of his water out of his way. The waiter walked over to them with their food, still piping hot on their plates. The man in the background with swords yelled out another command and began to split some tofu apart. Sarah leaned over the back of her chair and watched, just as Amy settled in and Liam grasped chopsticks in his hand.

  “It seems as if we’re just getting started,” he mentioned. He touched the pocket of his jacket again, swallowing air before he began to eat some of his food. Amy, Evan, and Bart all introduced themselves to one another and quickly waited.

  After another fifteen or twenty minutes of waiting, everyone had their food. Amy was easy to please and only opted for a small salad on the menu.

  “You’re allowed more than rabbit food,” Liam insisted. “You don’t have to pay penitence for being late.”

  “No, no,” Amy said, touching her plate defensively. “All I need, really.”

  “So, Amy,” Evan jumped in. “We were discussing how old we feel. When did you start to know you were getting old?”

  “Evan,” Sarah chastised. She eyed her sister sympathetically. “You do not have to answer.”

  Amy laughed. “I’m not a sensitive twelve-year-old anymore. I know I’m getting up there.” Amy, who Evan gue
ssed was actually twenty-nine unlike her sister, wiped her mouth with her napkin and then folded her hands on her lap.

  “I realized I was old when I couldn’t eat whatever I wanted and still not gain weight,” she said. “That has made Christmas and special occasions a lot harder.”

  “Fair enough,” Evan allowed. He didn’t bother to compliment Amy on how she was probably the most physically fit one there. He figured it wasn’t his place, liking men and all, and also that most women tended to use that as a line. Right? Oh well, he thought. It still wasn’t exactly his area. He tried to spin his noodles onto his fork, long ago giving up on the chopstick. He tried not to think about Bart’s last words before Amy showed up, or what he was trying to say.

  Silence fell over the table as all of them worked through their meals. Liam in particular looked around a lot, but he ceased to say anything. The man in the background with sword scraped against the grill, so loud that it seemed to echo inside Evan’s ear.

  Finally, when the waitress took their plates away, Evan saw a change in Liam. He stopped cracking jokes and touching his jacket as much.

  “Is there anything else for you guys?”

  “Nothing for me,” Amy said. She placed an overzealous hand over her stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

  Bart ordered tea, and Evan repeated that order even though he wasn’t keen on it. He kept his eyes on Sarah and Liam.

  “Cake? Is there cake here? I know I shouldn’t but…”

  “Get what you want, Sarah. That sounds fantastic. Thank you. I may have called about this earlier?” Liam said to the waitress. She dawned with recognition and smiled wider.

  “We will be right out with that,” she said, barely suppressing her wink.

  Sarah eyed Liam when they were alone at the table, the waitress disappearing in the back. Evan felt his heart beat quicken, as if he was the one being proposed to.

  “Liam, what’s going on?”