Divine Intervention

by Francis Gideon

  “He sounds happy,” Bart said.

  “I know. I haven’t heard him like that since, you know, the proposal.”

  Bart nodded. This time, when their eyes met again it was Bart that kissed Evan with a renewed passion, touching the stubble on his face before letting go.

  “I’m not leaving,” Bart said slowly. “I won’t let you sleep alone.”

  Evan swallowed. He put their foreheads together. “I…”

  “I love you,” Bart said. As soon as the words left Bart’s mouth, his eyes widened. He covered his face with his hand, as if he hadn’t realized he himself had made the remark. The flushed red cheeks from sex became even pinker with embarrassment.

  Evan put his hand over his, stifling a laugh in his throat as he threaded their fingers together. God dammit, Evan thought with a laugh. You beat me to it. When Bart didn’t meet Evan’s gaze, he placed a hand and tilted his face towards him.

  “I didn’t…” Bart said again.

  “I know.” Evans smiled.

  Bart raised an eyebrow at him. Evan laughed.

  “Don’t worry,” Evan said with a wink. “It was the Friday night lust disease, right?”

  Bart laughed with Evan, understanding the joke more than ever now. Evan looked down at him again, and met his lips.

  “Don’t worry,” Evan said again. “It was just the alcohol. The moment. Whatever excuse you want to use, and whatever else we want to say about.”

  Bart nodded, and then bit his lip. He opened his mouth to say something and then decided to kiss Evan again.

  “Trust me, I know. It makes someone do a lot of strange things.”

  Bart nodded, pushing his lips together. “Just forget it, okay?”

  “Oh, I don’t know if forget it the right word…”

  Bart’s eyes widened as he moved towards Evan, pushing him onto his back and then straddling him. The blanket fell to the floor, leaving both men with a chill they tried to shake off.

  “You worry too much now,” Evan said slowly, touching Bart’s chest and running his finger down towards his waist. “I had some actual beer, too. And since I’ve been clean for so long, it’s actually affected me pretty significantly.”

  “So you love me too?” Bart challenged. “I’m the best friend you’ve ever had and all that drunk talk?”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that yet, but I think we’ve demonstrated that a day of waiting can change our lives. And who knows? Maybe Liam’s too,” Evan said, pulling Bart’s body closer to him. He linked his hands around his back as their bodies pressed together. It was too soon after sex to get hard again and their bodies were too tired for even this action. Evan tried to suppress his yawn, but his body couldn’t run off fumes for much longer. He nestled his head close to Bart and then looked up at him seriously.

  “But it’s late. So just kiss me right now, and forget about the rest?”

  Bart did so carefully, pulling their lips apart and then crushing them together quickly.

  “You’re in a weak and vulnerable state,” Bart said, between kisses. “I don’t want to take advantage of you. Again.”

  “I may be vulnerable,” Evan said, smiling as he talked. “But I’m certainly not weak.”

  Evan pressed their lips together again, adding tongue to the embrace as if to demonstrate the ferocity and virility of before. Bart laughed into it and then responded. He kissed, adding his tongue, and moving their bodies together. But tiredness echoed in both of their bones and Bart began to slow his pace. He placed his head in the crook of Evan’s neck and allowed his breathing to steady. Though the mess of their bodies together was warm, Evan ran his hand down Bart’s back. It was so quiet for so long, Evan thought both of them asleep already or getting close to it. With his eyes closed, he smiled.

  “I love you too, Bart,” he whispered. He waited. After a moment, a rustle against his neck as breath escaped from Bart’s lips.

  “Good.”

  Chapter 9

  Evan stirred when he heard keys. He lay lengthwise on the couch, his head on the armrest and Bart’s head on his chest. The blanket they had tossed around themselves had fallen halfway down their bodies, covering their legs and waists. Both still wore their boxers, but that was it. When Ethan shifted, he felt Bart move too—but neither of them woke up quite yet. The sharp jingle of keys imbedded itself into Evan’s dream instead. Inside his mind, he was in a jewelry store, looking for a ring. Not for anyone in particular; he told his dream-self he was just browsing. He peered over at the many cases filled with shiny objects when the owner, a man who looked a bit like Liam’s brother, suddenly turned and pulled out a large key ring.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the man said in his dream. “It’s not quite time yet.”

  Then the sound of keys turned into the sound of a doorknob opening. From the image in his dream to the waking world, there were about two seconds of panic as Evan blinked his eyes open and realized where he was.

  “Fuck, fuck,” he said, nudging Bart whose eyes were still closed. “Liam is here.”

  Evan bit his tongue to keep himself from adding ‘finally’ at the end of his statement. Evan really did want to see his friend and lamented his absence from the night before. But all reunions, at least in Evan’s mind, needed clothing in some form or another.

  “Come on, Bart,” Evan persisted again, his voice in an aggravated whisper. He grabbed Bart’s shoulders and squeezed them slightly. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”

  “What?” Bart grumbled. Bart’s small blinks turned into a wide eyed stare as he seemed to put together the same pieces that Evan just had. When Bart craned his neck to look back to Evan from their pile of clothing on the floor, his expression said ‘hi good morning’ and ‘oh shit’ all at once.

  “Hur—” Evan said, but Bart cut him off as he leapt off his lap and placed his bare feet on Liam’s carpet again. Evan followed suit, grabbing his T-shirt from the top of the pile. He flung it over his tense shoulders in rapid succession as he felt his necklace bounce against his chest.

  “Where are my pants?” Bart asked as he flipped through the old blankets, candy wrappers, and boxes from the games they had played the night before. “My fucking pants.”

  Evan bit his tongue to keep from saying another remark under his breath. Yeah, right, he thought with a cunning glance. I did fuck those pants right off of you. Finally, he thought again. Finally.

  “Um,” he finally uttered when Bart’s expression became desperate. “What about under the coffee table?”

  The sharp sounds of the keys were now muffled, as if someone held them tightly in the palm of their hands. The acoustics from the hallway also changed, as if someone had opened the door and kept it open as bodies moved around inside its low light.

  “Good morning,” what sounded like Liam’s voice sounded into the apartment. Evan’s heart beat loudly in his ears. He could have sworn that he heard two people walking down the hallway, two sets of footprints, over top of his over-excited heart. Bart’s movements became a blur next to Evan as he finally found his pants in a haze of fabric and slid them over his legs. Bart found his shirt in no time afterwards, and began to slide that over his head and arms as Evan watched. Evan spotted his jeans across the floor—not enough time to go and grab them before a shadowy figure turned the corner and emerged into the room. At least he wasn’t naked, Evan figured.

  Evan turned to Bart next to him, ready to stand up for whatever happened last night and the consequences of it. Evan figured Liam would be happy for them—he always was whenever one of them appeared to have a boyfriend for longer than fifteen minutes. The only drain on their excitement could be the fact that Liam had lost Sarah, his love of his life, and that Evan and Bart had fucked on his couch. Small things, really, in hindsight. Nothing that they all couldn’t talk about over beers.

  When Evan went to grab Bart’s hand next to him, he felt Bart rush away and into the bathroom instead. Evan’s face fell and he turned around, away from however came into the
living room and kitchen. He moved to make a mad dive for his pants to prevent any kind of teasing or cat calling from occurring for his half-naked state. Better the teasing, Evan figured, than Liam getting angry for fucking on his couch.

  After Evan slid his legs into his pants and still heard nothing but the soft breathing from across the room, he turned around again. Sarah, with her blonde hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and a white over-sized sweater over her jeans, stared back at him. She gave him the same type of smile he saw on her the day after the intervention. Her eyes were creased, and while her lips upturned into a grin, she didn’t reveal her teeth. It wasn’t so much a ‘hey, how are you, nice to see you’ smile as it was a ‘hey, how are you, are you okay?’ smile. Not patronizing, but caring. She was like his sister in that moment, more than Liam’s girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend? Evan was relieved to see the expression on her face as much as he was to see Sarah. He didn’t feel so foolish with his pants half-done up around his body, barely obscuring a semi-hard-on from the morning that was still in the process of going away.

  “Good morning,” she finally said with a small nod.

  “Yeah,” Evan added. “I mean. Good morning. I thought…”

  “I was out of the picture?” Sarah completed too quickly with a laugh and a slight roll of her eyes. “Yeah, so did I.”

  “But. What about…?”

  Bart walked out of the bathroom before Evan could finish forming his thoughts. Bart’s jeans were on haphazardly without a belt and his shirt wasn’t tucked in (not that it ever was; it was just more noticeable now that Evan was allowed to scrutinize his outfit). His long hair was uncombed and his part off-center. He tried to walk in coolly on the balls of his feet, raising a subtle hand to say ‘hi’ as if it was nothing. But Bart did the same double-take Evan just did when he saw Sarah and not Liam looking back at him. Sarah gave Bart the same sympathetic smile, too.

  “Good morning guys,” she said again.

  “What happened?” Bart asked.

  “I think I could ask the same for you two,” Sarah said, revealing her teeth in a smile this time. She was about to open her mouth again when another set of footsteps sounded. Liam’s shoes thudded against the hardwood floor at the door and he cursed as he nearly tripped over the same pile of recycling at the front. He ran up to Sarah, touching her shoulder as he looked from Bart, to Evan, and then back again.

  “Did you two…?” he started, his smile already growing on his face. Evan wanted to argue with him; he wanted to tell Liam that he was jumping to conclusions, and then he realized his fly was undone. Even Bart was staring at Evan’s boxers through his jeans, a familiar smile on his face. Evan’s cheeks reddened before he could even raise his hand in disagreement. He lowered his eyes, turning around to fix his pants and properly cover himself.

  “Yes,” Liam shouted, triumph in his voice. “Finally, guys! It’s taken way too long.”

  “Jesus,” Bart said, a small laugh in his voice. He crossed his arms across his chest and rolled his eyes sheepishly. “You’re one to talk, Liam. You never even tried to help us out.”

  “What do you think last night was?”

  “Working late,” Evan said. He rooted around on the ground for more of his clothing, and kept his eyes adverted from the situation. When he found his socks, he hopped on one foot as he slid the item on. When he was finished, he turned around to face Liam’s devious smile. “Wasn’t it?”

  “Um,” Liam said. “Yes and no?”

  “You fucker,” Evan said. He moved across the room at an alarming rate just as Liam went to hide behind Sarah.

  “What did you think I was going to do?” Evan asked as he stopped by Liam’s side. He touched his shoulder and then, coaxing Liam out of his girlfriend’s hiding position, pulled him into a hug.

  “Did you really think I’d hurt you for that?” Evan asked as he rubbed his arm up Liam’s back.

  Liam laughed alongside Evan and pressed his chin into his friend’s neck. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I should give you more credit than that.”

  From over Liam’s shoulder, Evan could see Sarah smile at the two of them, and then look towards Bart.

  “I shouldn’t be so dramatic,” Liam allowed once he pulled away from the hug. “But I figured you’d be mad for switching out the beer.”

  “The beer?” Evan said, his throat going dry. “Was that all…alcoholic?”

  His mind swirled with sudden possibility. What if the hook-up with Bart was really alcohol induced? What if Bart wasn’t really that into him and their confessions of love had really been just a drunken stupor? Evan turned to Bart, who knitted his eyebrows with a perplexed stare.

  “Liam…” Bart said.

  “No, no,” Liam said. “Don’t worry. Everything was nonalcoholic. I don’t like AA, but I won’t fuck with you that much, Evan. I just wanted to see what would happen, you know? I figured that if one of you thought the other was drunk, then maybe something good could finally start.”

  Evan huffed in his place, trying to show his annoyance. “My life’s not a toy, Liam.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said with a raise of his hand. “Neither is mine. But we’re all not islands, either. We need one another. We need to depend on one another. And I think, like you guys wanted to use the club scenes, you depended on the alcohol too much as a crutch. I could take away the club scene by not showing up. But the alcohol? I had to get a little trickier.”

  Evan rolled his eyes. He wanted to be mad, but he couldn’t. As Liam talked, he backed up towards Sarah, putting an arm around her as he went. His left hand locked around her small waist and she placed a hand over his fingers, keeping him by her side. She looked up at Liam like she always did, a goofy smile on her face. For a minute, the look reminded Evan of when Liam had proposed at the restraint. There was a new type of hope in the expression, as if there was so much to look forward to.

  “You still have a lot of explaining to do,” Evan said, motioning to Liam and Sarah. “Was that fake too? The break up?”

  “No,” Liam said, and with the amount of grave undertones in his voice, Evan believed him. “No, that was very real.”

  “So what happened?” Bart asked. His sudden, quiet concern at the back of the room made Evan draw his glance over to him. Bart’s eyes caught his easily—and they lingered for a lot longer than a standard glance. Both of them smiled at one another again. Another smile, Evan realized, that wasn’t induced by alcohol. A smile that was as genuine as anything else in the room. The thought made Evan’s stomach rumble with butterflies, as corny as that sounded.

  “We will explain it all,” Sarah insisted, stepping in. Her tone was different now, less friendly and more cordial. She held Liam’s hand again, their fingers interlocked. Evan tried to scan the digits for sign of a ring, but couldn’t. “But how about breakfast?”

  “Finally,” Bart said, touching his stomach.

  “Sounds good to me,” Evan said.

  “Great,” Sarah said, rubbing her hands together. “I’ll get some pancakes started up.”

  Just as Liam and Sarah turned around and entered the kitchen, Evan felt a hand on his elbow. He turned to see Bart, his blue eyes wide with a smile.

  “Hey,” he said. “I don’t think I properly said good morning.”

  “I’ll forgive you,” Evan said with a smile. He took Bart’s hands in his and held it there. They took a step forward, past Bart’s socks still on the floor and all the empties form the night before. Empty with nonalcoholic beer, Evan emphasized to himself. He laughed to himself again, thinking that not only was the sex real, but the confessions of love were too. He felt Bart squeeze his hand. When he looked up, he pecked his cheek.

  “Thanks,” Bart said.

  Evan wasn’t sure what he had done, but he nodded. “No. Thank you.”

  Before they could take their eyes off one another, Liam’s voice spoke out from the kitchen.

  “Uhhh, guys,” he asked. “What the hell happened to my stove?”

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nbsp; * * * *

  The burner that had shorted out the day before was easy enough to fix with a call to the landlord. After that, the other working elements of the stove were used as Liam and Sarah both began to mix up some batter and prepare the frying pan.

  “To put in chocolate chips, or to not put in…” Sarah trailed off. “That is the question.”

  “Are you kidding?” Bart said. “How is that even a debate?”

  Sarah stared at him with a thinly-veiled smile. “And your verdict, sir?”

  “Always chocolate,” Bart said, placing a hand firmly on the counter. “Naturally.”

  “Coming from someone who had been deprived,” Liam said as he greased the frying pan. He peeked over his shoulder to Bart and Evan, who sat at the small kitchen table in the corner. “Right? Caffeine’s in chocolate and caffeine was a no-no for you, right?”

  “Yes and no,” Bart said. He motioned with his hand as he explained. “Alcohol, coffee, and tea are the forbidden drinks, usually. Some people expanded that to soft drinks too, thinking that the caffeine element was what was bad. But I knew lots of people who ate chocolate and even drank decaf coffee. It doesn’t really matter, per se. Especially now that I’ve left it behind.”

  “Okay,” Sarah said, stepping in before Liam’s curiosity and Bart’s willingness to talk about anything but his lay the night before led them both down a long discussion pathway. “So, we need chocolate. It’s just a necessity.”

  Before Liam could argue, Sarah grabbed the yellow bag of Nestlé chocolate chips and dumped a good couple handfuls in the batter. When Liam’s mouth opened in mock horror, Sarah raised her eyebrows to him in a challenge. There was a small moment of prolonged stares until Liam said, while raising his hands in the air, “Okay. I give in.”

  “Good,” Sarah said. She used the wooden spoon and began to stir in the chips. “Good.”

  Liam handed off the frying pan duties to Sarah after the pan heated up and began to steam a bit. With the batter now mixed and Sarah scooping out the small pancakes, Liam washed his hands and wiped them on a hidden tea-towel behind the microwave. He watched her work for a few minutes, before Sarah nudged his shoulder.