Meldrick Lewis unlocked the door of the Waterfront and gave one
of the night's last two patrons a gentle shove.
"Time to go, Mikey. I gotta close up and go home." He wiped
sweat from his forehead, wondering why he'd ever thought owning a bar
was a good idea. On a night like this, the only good thing you could
say for it was that time spent taking care of the place was time not
spent looking at dead bodies.
Mike Kellerman stood in the doorway, bracing his hands on either side
of the frame to keep the world from spinning out of control.
"You're my best friend in the whole world, Meldrick," he said
sloppily. "You know that?"
Brodie, still surprisingly sober after matching Kellerman drink for
drink, tugged at his arm. "Come on, man. They want to lock up."
"Yeah, go on, Mikey. Go home and sleep it off."
Lewis closed the door firmly behind his partner and keyed all
the locks into place. He walked back toward the kitchen as Tim
Bayliss pushed open its swinging door, carrying a stack of napkins.
"How is it you always manage to get out of the heavy work?"
Lewis said, shaking his head.
"You're not going to start that again, are you?" Bayliss asked
cautiously.
Lewis ignored him. That wasn't really the question he'd wanted
to ask, anyway. Instead, he gave voice to the only thing he'd been
able to think about for the past hour.
"What the hell happened back there?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Yeah, well, I want some answers, bunk. This ain't something
you can just brush off."
"I don't know what happened, all right? It's hot. I was mad."
He began to pace the floor in front of Lewis. "You didn't seem to
mind when it happened."
"Look, it ain't exactly something that happens every day. You
white boys might be doing this in the locker room or whatever, but I'm
a man..."
"Yeah, a man who's not getting any at home," Bayliss
interrupted, under his breath.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Lewis asked, stepping into his
path.
"I heard about you and Barbara...how she's had you sleeping on
the couch practically since you got married."
"Where'd you hear that?" _Damn._
"I don't know. Around," Bayliss answered, gesturing vaguely.
Lewis knew his expression was giving him away. He sighed, all
pretense gone. "She won't let me near her."
"That's tough." Bayliss walked behind the bar and poured a
shot of whiskey for each of them.
"That don't mean I like guys, though."
Bayliss hesitated before he spoke again. "Sometimes guys do it
with guys when they can't get a woman."
"We ain't in prison, Timmy. I could walk right out this door
and get a woman if I wanted to..."
"So why don't you? I'm not stopping you."
"...so I don't have to do it with you," Lewis concluded.
"Nobody asked you to."
Bayliss came around to the front of the bar, bringing the
whiskey bottle with him, and hooked a stool with his foot. Sitting
down, he continued, "Look. What happened, happened. It's not that
big a deal. Nobody saw us or anything."
"Yeah. You're right. Nobody saw us." Lewis drained his drink
and refilled his glass. Climbing onto the stool next to Bayliss, he
propped his head on his hands and stared at the pictures on the back
wall.
The two men sat there for a few moments, each lost in his own
thoughts. Finally, they both spoke at once.
"Tell me..."
"You know..."
"You first," Bayliss said.
"It's nothing. You go first."
"No. You. Really, go ahead."
"It's just... nah. I feel stupid."
"Come on, spit it out. How bad could it be after...what we did
tonight?"
"Yeah, well, that's the thing. You ever do that before? I
mean, with a guy?"
"Nope," Bayliss said glibly. Had he ever thought about it?
Yep. And with Meldrick? Hell, yes. Would he ever tell him? Hell,
no. Not if he valued his teeth.
"Me either. So how come we knew what to do?"
"Well, it's like with a woman, I guess. You get the basic idea
and you go with it."
"Wish somebody'd tell Barbara that," Lewis said ruefully.
"I'd tell her she doesn't know what she's missing," Bayliss
said, without thinking. "Oh, no. Oh, my God, Meldrick. I didn't
mean it like that..."
"S'okay," Lewis told him, leaning toward him a little, as if to
reassure him. "You weren't half bad at it yourself."
Bayliss shifted in his seat. His knee grazed the other man's,
sending a surprising shock of longing through him. He could feel the
heat from his friend's body, adding to the already steamy atmosphere
in the bar.
"So what do you want to do about this?" Lewis asked, almost
brusquely.
"What do _you_ want to do?"
"I asked you first."
Bayliss didn't answer. He felt hypnotized by the heat, by
thoughts of what had happened earlier, by the faint scent--sweet and
wholly desirable--that he recognized as coming from Meldrick. Slowly,
without conscious thought, he stood up, closing the distance between
them.
Lewis sat stiffly on the barstool, watching as Tim came closer,
then closing his eyes as he traced the angle of his jaw with the back
of one finger. He shuddered and tilted his head back as the finger
trailed down his throat, skimming lightly over his Adam's-apple.
"You want to do this?" he heard Bayliss ask huskily.
"Oh, man...I don't know."
"You want me to stop?" He cupped Lewis' lightly bearded chin
in his palm and stroked his thumb slowly over the man's half-parted
lips.
"No. Don't stop," he ground out. He'd lied to Bayliss; he'd
done this once, a long time ago. It was one of those things you do
when you're a teenager, to satisfy your curiosity, and until tonight,
he would have said he had no intention of ever exploring further.
_Always thought it was disgusting, two men together...I never knew it
could feel like this._ Without his willing it, his tongue slipped
out from between his lips to flick against Bayliss' thumb.
"Oh, hell, Meldrick. Don't do that unless you mean it." He
was standing firmly planted between the other man's thighs, pressing
against him gently, waiting for permission to do more.
"Don't stop," Lewis repeated. He looked at his friend
speculatively; the sight of him, face flushed and breath coming fast,
sent an unmistakable message directly to his groin. _He's this way
because of me._
"You want this bad, huh?" he said as he pulled Bayliss close,
trying to regain some measure of control over the situation.
"And you don't?" Bayliss breathed into his ear, feeling Lewis
hard against him.
"You gotta swear you'll never tell anyone."
"I swear. Just...please..."
Bayliss bent his head slightly and pressed his lips against the
half-opened mouth that was waiting for him. _So soft,_ Lewis thought.
_So warm._
This time, the kiss was tentative at first: exploration
instead of retaliation. As Bayliss' mouth became more insistent, their
tongues met and tasted; their hands explored the unaccustomed planes
and angles of hard male bodies. Finally, Lewis slid off the barstool,
fitting himself firmly into the taller man's arms. _Nothing's the
same,_ he thought dazedly, _but everything's the same._ Everything
came together like it was meant to be that way.
When he felt Bayliss' hands slide underneath his T-shirt to
stroke his back, though, he broke away.
"Come on, Meldrick, let me touch you. I want to feel your skin."
"Oh, man, I feel like I'm back in high school," he mumbled.
"Now I know what all those girls must have been going through."
"What? You're not gonna let me get to third base?" Bayliss
asked, his voice rough. "You know you want it."
"I can't," he said, staring at the floor. "This is way too
weird. I mean, it feels good and all, but...you touching me like
that...it's not right."
Tim reached out and gently lifted his face, bringing the two
men eye to eye. "Please..." The harsh edge in his voice had changed
to a tone of supplication. "I don't want to let you go."
"I can't. Just...can't."
"Yeah. Okay," Bayliss said, letting his hands drop to his
sides in resignation. His expression was that of a hurt little boy,
and just for a second, Lewis wanted to take him in his arms and kiss
the hurt away. Then his common sense reasserted itself. If he didn't
stop Tim now, he wouldn't be able to stop himself. And what would
they do then? Drop to the floor and go at it? How could he ever face
Bayliss again, after that?
At that thought, his desire subsided completely, as though he'd
stepped into a cold shower. He stepped backwards, out of reach of the
other man's hands, letting the distance he put between them speak for
itself.
"But we're cool, right?" he asked tentatively, after a long
moment.
"Yeah, we're cool," Bayliss said, a note of longing still in
his voice. "Go on, take off. I'll finish up here."
As Lewis vanished into the darkness, Bayliss reached for the
whiskey bottle again. He downed three shots in quick succession,
hoping they would dull his senses into oblivion.
"Well, this is a fine mess you've got us into," he said,
looking down at the unyielding bulge in his shorts. He put the bottle
away carefully and walked unsteadily to the door.