Lost in Manchester - 8. Dating Dilemmas. November 2009. Daniel

Daniel was running home. The streets around him everywhere looked dark and deserted. It must be the early hours of the morning. He couldn’t even remember where he had been tonight but he needed to get back to the safety of the flat. There was somebody following. He couldn’t be that far from home, but the city suddenly looked unfamiliar in the dark, and the figure following him was getting quicker. He picked a direction and ran full pelt.

He turned a corner and a few seconds too late realised he’d run into a dead end. All around him were the tall brick walls of disused factory buildings. Vivid green moss grew out of dark cracks, the only windows were high above, and he could see jagged glass jutting out like shark’s teeth. There was no escape. He turned round and only a few steps away saw the dark blurred figure almost upon him. And then the flash of a blade.

Carl turned over in bed and nudged into his back. Daniel woke suddenly and sat bolt upright.

“Not the face” he shouted out to the dark room.

His heart was beating like a motorbike engine revving. It took a few seconds to readjust, as his body absorbed the calm, familiar, moonlit bedroom around him. He glanced across to the alarm clock shaped as Mufasa holding up the new born Simba. It was 4am; three and a half hours until Nants Ingonyama.

Carl cautiously opened one eye.

“It was that nightmare again, where i’m being chased through the streets.”

Carl leaned up on his elbows. Daniel felt Carl’s strong arms grab his waist and pull him in close to spoon together.

“Just a dream babe”.

With Carl’s solid arms wrapped around him and warm chest against his back, Daniel’s breathing returned to normal. He sunk down into a happier dreaming place, safe again.

 

The next morning he sat at the breakfast bar as Carl fried up some sausages.

“Hey, babe, you want to go for a drink tonight?” Carl asked.

“Sure”

“Nate and Dean want to go down Samsons. There’s some kind of drag show thing”

“Nate and Dean?”

“Yeah. You’ve met them before right?”

Carl asked that every time he mentioned his two oldest friends.

“I’ve met them like three times now”.

“Right” Carl replied, hardly registering it.

“Nate kept talking about us having a threesome, remember?”

 

Nate was an arsehole. He had been at school with Carl and they had been gym buddies since they were old enough to join up. Nate was broad shouldered, with excessively muscled arms and a bigger ego. The first time Daniel met him, Nate had decided to climb a lamppost at the end of the night, shimmying his way up, his biceps straining under the lamplight, just to prove that he could. Daniel had pretended not to be impressed, but Nate, with his cocky smile and arrogant eyes clearly saw through it.

The last time they met had been in a bar for a few afternoon drinks. A young-ish slim, good-looking waiter had come across and taken the order, and as he walked away Nate had shifted his hand down to his crotch.

“Fuck, I would have that over my knee. This hand holding him down by his neck”, he mimed with his left hand, “and this one spanking that ass red”.

Carl was laughing along and shaking his head, but Daniel looked away embarrassed. He briefly caught the eye of the waiter who had clearly heard the whole thing and who gave him a smile and a raise of the eyebrows in response. Daniel decided not to pass that message on to Nate.

“Carl man” Nate had continued, “me and you totally need to start tag-teaming. I swear, every bottom on Canal Street would be gagging for some of that action”. He lent across to Daniel and slapped a hand gently on his face, “Including this one I reckon”. He had eyed Daniel up and down, as he often did, like he was inspecting a purchase.

It was so degrading. He wished Carl had intervened, but Carl saw it all as a big joke.

“Fuck off” Daniel had replied, pushing Nate’s hand away. Nate had just grinned back.

 

Carl laughed. “Yeah, Nate’s always talking shit. He wishes man. So you up for it?”

Daniel’s heart jumped. “Up for what?”

“Samsons. What else were we talking about it?”

“Nothing” Daniel said quickly. “Yeah, I mean, yeah, Samsons sounds fine”.

As they had said goodbye the previous time, Nate had come in for a hug, then slid his left hand down and grabbed Daniel’s bum, gripping it tight. He had leaned into Daniel’s ear and whispered ‘one day’. The whole thing had happened in the blink of an eye; Nate had known exactly what he was doing going into that hug, and the moment stuck hard in Daniel’s memory.

“You’ll get to like them more, if you spend more time with them” Carl said hopefully.

He definitely wouldn’t. There was nothing to warm to in Nate. Sure, he was hot, and he was pretty sharp-witted, but he didn’t give a shit about anything. Hitting on his best friend’s boyfriend was way over the line.

“Ok then, sure” Daniel replied, faking a smile.

 

Ali wandered into the kitchen, her hair all over the place and a fluffy green dressing gown wrapped around her like cling film. She looked like a bear emerging from hibernation.

“Morning Col” she said, heading over to turn on the kettle.

“Carl” Daniel said, instinctively correcting her.

She looked across at him with wide eyes, realising her error. Carl, though, was face-first into a sausage sandwich and barely noticed.

“Yeah. Caal, that’s what I said”, she bluffed, twisting the vowel to smooth over the mistake.

Daniel smiled.

“Hi Ali” Carl said after finishing his last mouthful. “Babe, I’m sorry, I gotta run” he said, putting his plate in the dishwasher and heading through to grab his bag.

“Ok honey, have an awesome day.”

“Yeah babe. See you at half six at Samsons, yeah? Get ready for some drag action” he said with a wink, and hurried off.

“You bet”. He heard the front door shut behind Carl.

He caught Ali’s eye.

“Samsons” she said with raised eyebrows. “He takes you to all the fancy nightspots.”

“Oh, this is only the start. Tomorrow we’re dining at the Ritz, followed by the ballet. Then Friday it’s an exhibition opening in Paris”.

Ali smiled. “You guys are worlds apart”.

Daniel’s smiling face dropped to placid.

“I know. But he’s nice. He looks after me. And I don’t know if you noticed but he’s seriously fit”.

“And after all, many people consider drag cabaret as one of the fine arts”

“Exactly”. He shook his head and got up and started to pour some cereal into a bowl.

“And let’s hope you don’t end up coming home with a different boy this time” Ali said.

“We said we’d never talk of that again. I was just upset because he stood me up, but it’s all forgotten now”.

She gave him a smile and a look that seemed to say I love you, but thing are never going to work between you and your boyfriend. Or maybe he was just reading too much into the look.

“To be honest, Samsons is fine. It’s just his friends I struggle with”.

“That guy that hit on you last time?”

“Yeah, you remember? He is such a dickhead”.

“And yet you lust after him”.

Daniel put down his mug of tea and his eyes lit up in surprise.

“Where did that conclusion come from?”

“Come on. You were talking about it for days after it happened”.

“Yeah, because I was affronted.”

“Because you were aroused”

Daniel gave up the fake indignation. How did she know him so well?

“Fine. He turns me on ten times as much as Carl. I still hate him though”.

Ali put some bread into the toaster.

“So why are you sticking with Carl?”

“You got his name right.”

“I knew it all along”

Daniel laughed. “Such a liar”

“Come on. Tell me why though”.

How to explain something he hardly understood himself?

“I don’t know. I’ve tried dating smart arty guys before and they don’t turn me on. So I find a guy who does turn me on, and who’s also caring and protective, and then I blame him for not being a skinny creative boy. And then I also blame him for still not being as cocky and sexually aggressive as other guys. I just…don’t know”.

Daniel thought about the guy in their block that he’d chatted to on Gayzer. The lawyer guy with the idyllic countryside photo and the geeky specs. He seemed smart, and kind of hot, and was definitely more into domination stuff than Carl. But somehow they’d never got beyond chatting. Why hadn’t that ever happened?

 

A little before 7pm, Daniel walked into the disco-lit bar, and straightaway spotted the three faces he was looking for, gathered around a table in a prime spot next to the stage. He pulled his feet up with each step across the sticky floor, like walking through mud, and headed across to the table. It was always quiet in here on a week night, just about everybody was sitting at tables, but the lighting was low and the music loud so it didn’t feel like everyone was watching you as you walked across the room. Carl stood and greeted him with a lager-breath kiss.

“You remember Nate and Dean right?” he asked.

“Yes!” he said, wondering if Carl ever actually listened to him.

“You want a drink babe?”

“Izz aright, I’ll get veez ones” Dean interjected. “Myy round”.

Dean was a pure Scouser. He had a skinny build and big unkempt hair, like an upended mop, and was always wearing a dark green pervert trench coat, even indoors. At his most sober, he spoke like he was pissed, and when he was pissed, it was like talking with a gorilla.

“Come sit between us” Nate said with a wink, gesturing to a place on the long seat between him and Carl.

Daniel opted instead for a stool across the table from both of them.

“So we were just saying, that girl over there looks like a right tramp” Carl said to Daniel, bringing him crashing in to the conversation.

Daniel waited for a punchline, or something, but the two gym buddies were just staring at him, awaiting a response.

He turned to assess the girl Carl had indicated.

“Don’t look.” Carl snapped, and Daniel turned back. He looked at Carl and Nate for a painfully slow two seconds. What in all heaven and earth could he contribute to this conversation? Fortunately, Dean returned with the drinks and the moment passed.

“Acshully, I think i’ve fucked that guy sheesh with” Dean said. The other three looked at him. He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Big nob acshully”.

Carl rolled back laughing loud. Daniel looked at his boyfriend and felt queasy.

 

 

The more beer that flowed, and the more inane conversation that passed, the more Daniel looked across at Carl and saw a guy that he was never going to connect with. All the while Nate’s devil eyes watched him. Nate didn’t laugh at the dumb stuff Carl did. He was smarter. But he was also the kind of guy that would screw his best friend’s boyfriend without hesitation.

“So you watched any good films lately Danny?” Nate asked. “Other than the pornographic variety”.

Carl smiled at the teasing.

“Actually yes. We watched Citizen Kane last night.” Daniel said and stuck his tongue out. He immediately regretted it. It was so obviously flirtatious.

Nate sat back, resting his hands behind his head, maybe deliberately to show off the biceps.

“You’re such an educated little twink aren’t you?”

“Well, I don’t know. I guess even a dumb guy looks smart next to a dog.”

Nate grinned and sat forward again. “Funny, that’s the second time I got compared to a dog lately. What was it? Oh yeah, the other night, this skinny twink boy on all fours begging for me to give it to him doggy style.”

Carl burst out laughing again. Daniel gave Nate a withering look. He hated himself for feeling turned on right now.

Around 9pm their drag compere, Miss Demeanour emerged from the back room, with a blood orange wig and leopardskin all over. She had been doing the rounds on Canal Street for years, and half the time looked like she really couldn’t be arsed. Daniel watched as she approached each table and stood chatting for a few minutes before moving on to the next. As she reached their table, she stopped and eyed each of them one by one for a few seconds.

“Boys, this is your lucky night” she announced.

“You have the chance this very evening to enter an exclusive competition and fight to be crowned…” she paused for effect, “…Manchester’s Alpha Gay”.

She looked around at the unimpressed faces, but maintained her showbiz façade a little longer.

“Now look, don’t all rush me at once. I can only take one of you I’m afraid. There’s only one precious place left.”

They all avoided eye contact.

Dean started to mumble something, but had become increasingly incomprehensible.

“Ynow wotguyz reckon tidbe prittfun, so ynow I’d bup frit.” He looked slightly excited but was barely able to sit up straight.

The drag queen ignored him, focusing instead on the other three. Her face had dropped to a transvestite-next-door look.

“Look, i’m not letting piss-tits here up on my stage, so one of you three muska-queers is going to have to step up. Capisce?”

“Carl, man, you’d win this easily.” Nate said, encouraging him.

Carl shook his head. “Not my thing mate”.

“You know this is meant to be an alpha male contest?” the drag queen continued. She shifted her weight across to the left leg and placed her large right hand onto her hip. “So can you stop being such fucking pussies about it?”

Daniel looked to Nate. “Let’s see how much of a man you are then”.

Nate looked at him, assessing the gauntlet that had been thrown down.

He looked up at the drag queen and took a sharp intake of breath. “Alright then, I’m in”.

“Good. Get your firm ass up here then” she said, turning and strutting up to the stage.

Once she had gathered the four other equally reluctant candidates, she came to centre stage.

“Ok. Ladies and gentlemen” she said, camping up as much as possible, “what you’re going to witness here tonight is something truly spectacular. For your viewing pleasure, we have for you five hot, handsome, strapping young men...”

She gestured to the five males standing awkwardly on stage. From left to right there was a skinny student attempting to pull off a geek chic look, a younger version of Pavarotti, a tall guy with sandy hair and a dead eye, a gym scally in grey jogging bottoms, and then Nate.

“...ready to battle it out to the death, yes, the death, if necessary, in this ultimate, incredible, mind blowing, body breaking test of male, manly, muscular, macho, masculinity”.

She paused for a breath.

“And the winner, ladies and gentleman, the winner will be crowned before your eyes – Manchester’s own ALPHA GAY.”

There was a chorus of whooping and whistling around the room.

“But before they can be crowned Alpha Gay, these five wannabes will have to face four particularly painful, punishing, pulsating tasks to see who can overcome the odds and collect the crown and the glory”. The drag queen made herself laugh at the melodrama.

“But first let’s get to meet them.” she said, careering across to the first of them.

“So, welcome number one. Our very own four eyed jerk chicken”.

The introductions carried on along to the end of the row.

“And finally, number five, and just look at the fun bags on this hunk of meat” she said grappling Nate’s pecs.

Carl rolled back with laughter once more.

Nate looked slightly uncomfortable but tried to cover it. Daniel watched closely. Was Nate doing this just for him?

The trials unfolded over the next hour or so, as the five exhibitionists played tug of war games, answered questions on gay trivia, and did an impersonation of a gay icon. It had to be said that Nate pulled off a mean Tina Turner.

After the first three tasks, Miss Demeanour returned to the stage to introduce the finale.

“Ok. This has been kids play up to now. But this is the big one”. She took in a deep breath. “This contest is still as wide open as your boyfriend’s backside”. Somebody in the room whooped.

“Slut” she snapped in their general direction.

“This” she emphasised, “is where we separate the men, from the boys”. She turned to the five guys. “Ok, we’re gonna find out how sexy you boys can be”. She glanced up to the audience and everybody cheered.

She returned her gaze to the line-up. “We’re going to play some steamy, sexy music, and you’re going to go out there, find yourself a fella and give him a private lap dance. And the sexiest lap dancer out there is going to come back and be crowned tonight as Manchester’s Alpha Gay”.

“Oh, fuck that” said the young Pavarotti, looking horrified, and walked off the stage back to his seat.

“Hey, if you can’t take the heat, get back to your seat honey. McFadden has left, but Westlife go on.”

The music started and there were cheers and hoots around the room. Daniel was still seated on the stool nearest to the stage and quickly realised where this might go.

Nate was strutting across and Daniel could see those eyes were locked on him. As Nate approached he ignored Daniel and looked across to Carl. “Hey, do you mind...?” he asked, gesturing to Daniel.

Daniel quickly turned round to try to nip the idea in the bud, but Carl wasn’t looking.

“No man, course not” Carl said, still laughing.

The music was loud, and with four guys stripping and strutting around the room, nobody else could see the look in Nate’s eyes. He peeled his vest top off, revealing a tattoo down his right hand side in strange Arabic letters. His hips were gyrating hypnotically at eye level to Daniel. His arms were above his head, and Daniel couldn’t help his gaze wandering all over the heavy biceps and thick armpit hair. He was surrounded by the masculine smell of that tanned and toned body and could see Nate looking down with a satisfied smile.

The voice of the compere was calling out in the background whipping them up further, but it was just muffled sound, like his ears were underwater.

Nate glanced around and saw the other guys were making similar moves, so decided he could push the boundaries. He lifted one leg onto the chair where Daniel sat and continued grinding his body closer, rubbing his hands around Daniels head.

He hated Nate. He hated this moment. But it was intoxicating. He was mentally cheating on his boyfriend, sitting two metres away.

The audience was cheering, and the music was building. Daniel could hear echoes of the laughs of Carl and Dean behind him, but they hardly broke through the bubble. His heart was beating fast and his mouth was dry.

Nate lifted Daniel’s hands and placed them on his sweaty abdomen. Their eyes were locked together. Daniel stroked his hands across Nate’s solid six-pack, and Nate continued to smile down, holding on firmly to the back of Daniel’s head.

He couldn’t be doing this. Carl would see what this was. Even Carl would see this.

The music built to a final peak and the room seemed to spin. Nate’s hands were over his face and head, and he couldn’t take his eyes off the thick metal belt buckle twisting in front of him. The cheering in the room got louder again and as the final long, loud hanging note of the song was struck, Nate pulled Daniel’s face into his groin, and raised his fist in the air like Freddie Mercury.

 

Daniel disappeared back into the dream. The guy dropped the flick-knife and pulled the hood back to reveal Nate’s face smirking at him. The first light of dawn was revealing itself in a golden line above the empty warehouse buildings around him, but he was trapped in that dead end. Nate came closer and pushed him down, backwards onto the ground. He looked down and laughed. “One day Danny boy. One day soon.”

 

Daniel came out of the daze and saw Nate up on stage receiving a cheap copper crown from a six foot drag queen in an orange wig.

“A deserving winner i’m sure you’ll agree...” Miss Demeanour was shouting, to applause all around the room.

“You ok babe?” Carl asked, moving across to the seat next to him.

“Yeah. I guess”, he said apprehensively. Surely Carl would be angry.

“You look a bit dazed, that’s all”

“I’m sorry about…” he trailed off.

“What?” Carl asked, genuinely oblivious.

“Just all seemed a bit…”

Carl smiled. “Babe, I was pissing myself.”

They left the bar soon afterwards. Daniel didn’t speak to Nate again, and as Nate hugged Carl goodbye, Daniel was already starting to walk away. He didn’t want a repeat of last time. Daniel turned back waiting for his boyfriend, and Nate’s gaze was locked on him from the embrace. Nate gave him one final lustful look up and down, then catching his eye mouthed a slow kiss, before coming out of the embrace with Carl.

He had to make sure to never let that happen.