Lion's Lair - 4. Can We Talk?

"Ok, park your ass in your usual chair now. You're going to give me every wonderfully nasty detail of your hot date last night." Barry's pointing to the chair I usually take at the bar, and he's kind of kidding but really not when he's demanding information about my evening with Ryan.

"Barry, what kind of guy do you think I am? You think I'd kiss and tell? I'm shocked, positively shocked you'd think that of me." Barry is surprised--I don't think he'd expected that kind of smartass remark from me. But my tease has him even more determined to get details.

"Aw, come on, Clayton; as your favorite bartender, you know you wanna confess all to 'Father Barry' ... and you know my bartender's oath prevents me from talking about it." He's using a pleading cajoling voice now--his curiosity as well as genuine interest in me is a one-two punch motivating him.

I've watched Barry and gotten to know him and his partner Dave ever since he bought the bar almost a year ago; he's a solid guy. He always takes an interest in folks around him, interesting, big heart. He's got a great relationship with Dave, who's a government analyst. Hell, he's even a mentor/godparent to the sons of an old college buddy from Dallas who died last year. He's damn near adopted them. He's constantly encouraging 'em; I've overheard bits and pieces of a phone call or two when the bar was empty.

"Wait--'bartender's oath'?" I'm laughing now, slapping the bar top with my hand. "There's no such thing!"

"Well, there could be one! Aw, come on, Bubba's been gone all week, don't ya wanna let me live vicariously? Come on...please?" Barry looks at me, trying to do a puppy-dog-eyed look, and it's cute as well as funny.

"Ok, get me a gin and tonic, and I'll think about it."

Barry works on getting my drink and I'm thinking. He really has proven himself as a friend. When I had that delayed mid-life crisis, and I'd thought the likelihood of having any romantic future had about the same odds as me riding an elephant down Main Street at noon on the Fourth of July on the day of a full moon, then getting struck by lightning before fighting off an Al-Qaeda attack with my bare hands, Barry was the one who convinced me to "just keep all the options open".

Ok, let's take this friendship to the next level.

Barry's back with my drink. "Ok, Barry, here's the details. And all this stays just between us, right?""

He's grinning big, feeling victorious, ready for all the info. "On my oath as a bartender." He holds up his fingers in a Boy Scout pledge.

"It's really not that much to tell. I was running late from a client meeting, and called him. He was still at work, running late himself due to a late sale. I was afraid he'd cancel, but he agreed to go out with me, despite the fact that nothing had gone according to schedule."

"Wait ... why wouldn't he go out with you?" Barry's genuinely mystified. "You're attractive, intelligent, polished; stable; consistent; normally comfortable with yourself. Hell, you're one of the genuine good guys of the planet."

"It's just my own insecurities, I guess. Look at him, he's a good-looking man, vibrant, making his own way with the energy younger guys have in spades. He could have any man he wanted; why me?"

"Clayton, stop selling yourself short. You bring a lot to the table. Besides, maybe he's got a thing for your hazel eyes. Who can say all the things that make us attractive to someone else?"

"Well, I'm just trying to get used to idea that a younger man would be seriously interested in me, that's all. And I'm still not used to the idea." I smile as I say the last line, and Barry understands it, but with a wave of his hand shows me he's discounting it.

"Anyway, I took him to my neighbors' restaurant, which I'd not originally planned to do, but it's a little upscale, and since we were both professionally dressed, we'd fit in. I called the restaurant from the car, and made reservations.

"My neighbor happened to be at the reservation desk looking at the crowd coming in for the evening, and when he found out we'd be there, he instructed the staff to baby us. When he learned that Ryan was in a wheelchair, he picked out a great table for us, and had it prepped with a chair removed, so Ryan was able to roll his hot wheels directly to it. He also made sure that the table was held open for us, so there'd be no waiting."

"So where'd ya take him, Clayton?"

"Donna Sam's."

Barry lets out a low whistle. "Shit! You really pulled out the stops on this, didn't ya? Bubba and I went there once, and we both make good money, but damn, thought we'd hafta take out a second mortgage to cover the tab. But the food and the service were worth it."

"Understand exactly what you mean, Barry. It's not cheap, but the overall experience is incredible. Donna and Joe also own Admiral's Quarters in Uptown New Orleans and The Bistro in the French Quarter. Both are Michelin Guide listed and known internationally, but they tell me this is where they really cook. Besides, I like giving business to my friends. So after dinner, I picked back up with the second part of my original date plan."

"Ok, ok, so you had a great meal--so what's the second part of the date, now that you've impressed the hell out of him at dinner?" Barry's impatient to get all the info.

"When I made the dinner reservations, I'd arranged to get a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses as we left, since I couldn't swing by the house and pick up a bottle there. Last night was the Perseid meteor shower, and the neighborhood association president made arrangements to turn off most of the lights at the dock in Olympus, so we went there, had champagne, and watched nature's fireworks over the lake."

"Clayton, you romantic devil! So you took him out, got him buzzed, had a heavy make-out session, watched a couple of shooting stars, and ...." Barry's moving his hand in a circular motion, encouraging me to speed it up and get to "the good part".

"Barry Evans, get your mind out of the gutter! There were plenty of other people on the dock, so that wasn't the time or place for that. Yes, we had champagne; yes, we each stole a few kisses; but mostly we cuddled up, really talked, and watched the meteor display over the lake until two. Beneath that shield of a tough Marine, there's a good old country boy with a tender heart. Kind of like my favorite candies--hard on the outside, soft in the center."

Barry's grinning with me at the "candy" line. "Damn. Really sounds like a great time. And Ryan sounds just like Bubba. Rock-hard exterior, gooey inside. You'd never guess that with either of 'em. So the shower ended at two, and then...." Barry starts that "speed it up" hand motion again.

"After it ended at two, I took him back to his car, which he'd left at the dealership, and we each went home. He called at lunch today, said he enjoyed the night, asked me out for Tuesday night dinner and said he would try to come out for the show tonight--so you can quiz him about the date, and me."

Barry looks like I've slapped him. "Wait--you're telling me that after an impressive dinner and a highly romantic time together that nothing happened? You didn't want that? He didn't?"

"No, Barry, that's just the point. When I dropped him off at his car, we talked more. He made it clear he would have gone for more--and God knows my hormones were running wild--but as I told him, and he agreed, I didn't wanna mess up something that could be really wonderful with just hot sex."

Barry leaned forward across the bar, grabbed my hand, squeezed it, and smiled. "Smart, sexy, and sensible. You're every bit the catch I've always thought you were! You've really got a thing for this guy, don't ya, Clayton?"

"Damnit, I do--and it's scaring the shit out of me, Barry. It's all happening so fast. I find him to be one of the most interesting, intriguing, sexiest men I've ever met. I hate to admit it, but I think I'm falling for that Nebraska Marine."

"So where does that leave you and Ben?"

"Barry, I don't know; I'm still trying to figure that out. But, I do know I want to pursue Ryan. There's an attraction--a fit with him--I don't understand, but I know I crave."

Barry sits up straight on the barstool, and has a distant look in his eyes as he remembers a different time and place in a coarse voice. "Didn't happen that fast with me and Bubba. Our circumstances were totally different, and I went through hell before I worked it all out, but I understand what you mean about craving that connection." And then he snaps back to look me squarely in the eye. "And based on what you just said, I think you really already know what needs to happen--with both Ben and Ryan."

I hadn't even realized what I'd said, but Barry's right. I do know what I need to do. I need to set a time to talk with Ben. It's not gonna be fun or even easy, but it needs to happen. But that will happen after my next date with Ryan. I need to make sure that he and I are on the same page with all of this.

'Oh, by the way, Clayton, there's no show tonight. We'd had a 'miscommunication' with the performers. Actually, saw on Facebook that they'd booked themselves at another, bigger club--probably for more cash and more tips. They're promoting the show for next weekend so next weekend it is, I guess." Barry just shakes his head, a mixture of anger and frustration visible. "So it'll be a drinking night here. Guess I need to get some music going." And with that, Barry heads to the sound booth and puts in a mix of dance music on CD.

I'm somewhat lost in my thoughts, but more and more people are coming in, and they're all expecting a show. Barry's apologizing; a few of them turn around and leave, but many stay, so it looks like it's going to end up being a good night here. It's built into a nicely-sized crowd.

Barry stops by to refill my drink and we're chatting when there's a tap on my shoulder. I spin the barstool around--and it's Ryan, with a big grin as he lifts himself to my level using his hands on the locked wheelchair's arms and gives me a quick friendly peck on the lips.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist that kiss ...." Ryan's settled back into his chair, he's a little shy about a casual kiss. Enough so that his cheeks are turning red with the beginnings of a blush. "Barry, can I get a Jack and Coke, please? And if you will, start me a tab." He passes his credit card across the bar.

"Ryan, how's it going for ya? Got a big weekend underway?" Barry's making small talk as he passes Ryan's drink across the bar, and it's not lost that he's "playing dumb" about knowing about our date last night.

"Been a great weekend so far, Barry. Had the best date last night a man could ask for ... " with Ryan turning slightly and winking at me so Barry doesn't see, " ... and I'm here with fun folks tonight. It just keeps getting better and better!"

Barry smiles and nods his head. "Damn, boy, sounds like you're on a roll. Glad you're here tonight to add to the fun."

Ryan looks back at me. "Care to join me at a table, stud? We can have a private chat." He arches an eyebrow, and smiles a crooked smile, intimating that more than chat will occur as a part of his flirt.

"Lead the way, Tonto." Barry's laughing; whether at the flirting Ryan's doing or my response to it, I'm not sure. He continues to nod and smile as we move to an adjacent table.

Just as I start to sit, I realize I don't have to schedule a time with Ben--he's here.

No time like the present.

Ben apparently came in while we were chatting with Barry, or Ryan was getting his drink, or moving us to the table. He's standing at the bar with a short, dark-haired guy, flat-brimmed baseball cap turned backwards. (I guess he needs a baseball cap on in a bar on Saturday night to make a fashion statement of some kind.) Ben's got an arm thrown over the guy's shoulder casually, but his hand is draped down from his shoulder to his chest, surreptitiously playing with the guy's nipple through his t-shirt. He's whispering something in the guy's ear that's causing him to nod and smile. They trade a quick smooch.

"Ryan, I just spotted a guy I used to casually date. If you don't object, I really need to speak to him; we'd left a few things unfinished. I'll grab a drink for him and his date, and chat for a few minutes and be back here quickly."

"Nah, no problem, Clayton. As I recall, someone once told me that one of the joys of being gay is that we all have a past." He grins big.

I hate it when my words come back to bite me.

"You go ahead and do what you need to do. I'll wait here. But, do you mind getting me another drink while you're over there?"

"Certainly." I stand and head to the bar after leaning in for a quick kiss. Damn he's a good guy. Not at all jealous of a prior romantic interest.

At the bar, I ask Barry to get Ben and his date a round on me, as well as another Jack and Coke, which I'll take back to Ryan before starting my chat with Ben. Maybe the round of drinks for Ben will smooth the potential rough edges off the situation.

It's been almost two weeks since I've seen or talked with Ben. Although we haven't discussed exclusively dating, it's now clear to me that neither he nor I considered our "relationship" to be monogamous--but it's something we should have discussed. After relaxed dating and sex for the past year we both failed to get to that issue head-on. That won't happen again with anyone. In the meantime, I just need to let Ben know we're in good shape as friends, and make it clear we're now in a different phase of our standing with each other.

I must have been lost in my thoughts for too long, since Ben and his friend are backing away from the bar with their fresh drinks in hand and beginning to move toward me.

Barry returns with Ryan's drink. "Just delivered your round to Ben and his buddy, and they said 'thanks'. I went ahead and served 'em their round, since they're so close to the beer cooler before I made Ryan's drink. I hope that's not a problem." Barry has obviously picked up on my surprise at them moving this way.

"Not a problem, Barry." Barry just nods acknowledgement as I catch Ben's eye, then hold up my hand in a "stop" motion, then index finger, hoping they get the message to "stop for a minute". I can get Ryan's drink to him, then go back to chat with Ben.

Ben doesn't understand the message, apparently, since he's now at our table just as I'm delivering Ryan's drink. Will this get ugly? I don't think so, but ....

"Hi, Clayton. Thanks for the drinks." Ben bear hugs me, gives me a friendly kiss on the cheek, and then turns to check out Ryan. His eyes move from Ryan's face down, and there's momentary surprise visible when he realizes Ryan is in a wheelchair, but he covers the surprise quickly. I'm certain Ryan noticed, but his face is pleasant--and stoically smiling. "Hi, I'm Ben, and you are ....?" Ben sticks out a hand as he speaks.

Ryan shakes his hand. "I'm Ryan Gregory. I'm fairly new here. Good to meet you. Please, join us." Ryan's gracious, but I'm hoping they won't stay.

Ben grabs a chair back and pulls it out to sit. "Only for a minute. We'd gone out for dinner, thought we'd stop here for a quick road drink before we head to the Quarter for some partying. What are y'all's plans for the night? Y'all wanna join us? Oh, and this is Benoit LaTour." Ben's certainly being social enough, and is totally non-plussed with Ryan being with me.

"'Sup." Benoit's a short muscle man, with the typically Cajun ink black hair escaping from underneath his still-backwards baseball cap, blue eyes, furry arms and legs on display in the shorts and t-shirt he's wearing. One calf has a tattoo like a family crest;, he's got a more than half-sleeve tattoo on his arm, and based on their quality, it looks like something you'd get in prison--truly sloppy work. And ugly--the half-sleeve has an image of a demonic skull, holding a cross that it's stabbing into its ribs where its heart would be. He's also got some kind of tattoo on his neck; on closer view, it reads, "no mercy".

He's also blessed with the personality of a radish since he's just standing, not making any effort to be friendly. Maybe that's because of the drinks he's had with dinner, or the joint he'd enjoyed earlier--the fragrance is still there. The glassed look in his eyes shows him to be not totally here, regardless.

"You dance? Really?" Benoit's looking squarely at Ryan. "And since we're going to Oz," Benoit's turning to look at Ben now, "and they don't have an elevator to the dance floor on the second floor, how are....." I'm speechless at the crassness I've just witnessed. How do you get to be late twenties with such an astounding lack of personal skills?

Ben appears to be every bit as appalled as I am. Thankfully, he has the social graces to interrupt Benoit before he turns himself into a human pretzel by sticking his foot in his mouth all the way up to his ass. "You remember I've talked about Clayton before, don't you, Benoit? Clayton's been a good friend." Ben winks at me as he says it.

You can almost see the lightbulb go off over Benoit's head when he realizes what the emphasis on "friend" is really saying. They'd already discussed my standing--or lack thereof--long before. "Oh ... yeah. I remember." Geez, this muscle-bound guy is fast. Not.

Ben turns back to look at me, nodding over toward Ryan. "So is this a new friend?" There's that word emphasis again.

"We just met this week, and I'm really enjoying getting to know him. I can certainly hope we'll become very good friends." I smile as I say it and wink at him, knowing my intentions come through just as clearly as his use of the word did. Ben smiles a relaxed smile--he got the message, and he's ok with it all. And with the verbal and non-verbal messages we've passed between us, there's no need for a meeting to clear the air between Ben and me. We're in good shape, and friends still.

We're saved from this titanic social disaster by the sudden appearance of Dave Alexander, Barry's lover. "Hiya, guys. Saw you over here, and just wanted to say a quick hello. Clayton, how ya doing? Ben, you doing ok tonight?" His friendly approach breaks up the horrible cadence of the moments-ago conversation.

"Dave, it's really good to see you--but what are you doing here? I thought you were out of town?" Dave is smiling, relaxed, as I ask about the trip.

"I was. Damn conference in D.C. This is an annual training event--but how much training do you think analysts need? I stayed over an extra day to visit with a buddy there, just got in a few minutes ago. Thought I'd see my better half before I head back to the house to crater." He nods toward Barry at the bar as he says it--and damn if his glance at Barry doesn't sizzle. They're crazy in love.

I introduce Benoit and Ryan, Dave shakes hands with Ryan while Benoit again just stands there, nods, and "'Sups" Dave. "Marine, glad to meet ya."

Ryan starts laughing. "Am I wearing a damn sign that says I'm a Marine?"

Dave laughs with him. "Takes one to know one." And with that, Dave stands bolt upright, gives a crisp military salute, then leans over, hugs Ryan, and whispers something in his ear. I find out later it's, "You got your mission done and made it home, Marine. Good job. Semper Fi, brother."

"Wait, are you Barry's partner? He'd mentioned his lover was a Marine, and ...."

"Yup, that's me." Dave interrupts Ryan, confirming his identity.

"Great to meet ya, Dave! Nice to have a face to go with all the nice things Barry has said about you." Ryan's smiling as he says it, and I'm betting Ryan and Dave are going to become great friends.

"Well, guys, I guess we need to get rolling....uh, on the way to the Quarter. Ryan, good to meet you. Dave, good to see you again." Ben is momentarily embarrassed at his word choice in front of Ryan--although Ryan would never call his hand on it--but recovers nicely. At least Ben's social skills are good, despite Benoit's need for an emergency trip to "Ms. Edna's School of Charm and Auto Repair", as one of the queens would say.

"Ben, good to meet you, and thanks for the invitation to join you tonight. I love to dance, but think it'll be great to enjoy Saturday here. And Benoit, don't worry, I can navigate damn near anywhere." Ryan is smiling at Benoit as he says it, but the touch of sarcasm in the next line comes through clearly--at least to all of us; I'm certain Benoit misses it. "You'd be amazed at the moves I've got in this thing." Ryan pats the arms of his chair and winks at Benoit.

"Guys, I need to go back to the bar and talk with Bulldog for a few minutes, then I'm out of here, crashing at home. Good to see all y'all." And with that Dave moves away as Ben and Benoit leave as well. Ryan and I are alone.

We look at each other--and both break out in laugher at the absurd meeting with Ben and Benoit.

"That was fun, damnit. Is Ben dating Benoit? Does Benoit know he's being dated? Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, is he?" Ryan breaks out in laugher after he says it, and it's infectious--I'm laughing again, too.

After we catch our breath, Ryan gets a somewhat serious/intense look on his face. "Can we go out on the patio and talk? It's a little more private ...."

"Sure."

Uh oh--is this it?