The Pastel Cowboy - 12. Is That Bruce

Zach knew something was up when Sarah took the James Street exit from I-5 and headed straight toward Uncle David’s condominium. He had expected some warning, but she simply drove into the load/unload zone and turned off the engine.

“I assume this is my stop,” Zach said.

“Grandfather said your uncle is willing to let you stay here,” Sarah said.

“He doesn’t want me back at the house, then,” Zach said. He looked at Jeremy, who seemed too shocked to say anything.

“No,” Sarah said, “but Jeremy can help you with your bags. I’m to bring him straight home after leaving here. Grandfather was rather adamant about getting Jeremy home without delay.”

“I guess he’s not in favor of my continuing relationship with your brother,” Zach said.

“Let’s just say things have become uncomfortable,” Sarah said. “I think grandfather’s begun to think you’re not the best friend Jeremy could find.”

“Come on, Jeremy, I guess we might as well play along,” Zach said. He got out of the backseat of Sarah’s car and stood on the sidewalk waiting for his boyfriend. They hadn’t had sex. A little kissing, but no sex even though they’d slept in the same bed since that night at the beach house with Raul. At that moment, knowing he probably wouldn’t see Jeremy for at least a few days, Zach felt he was more in love with the younger boy than he’d ever been.

Jeremy perfunctorily picked up Zach’s bags and followed him into the condominium lobby. Sadness dulled his eyes and pulled down at the corners of him mouth, not in a pout, no Jeremy was too sad for that much exhibitionism. Zach’s eyes bore into him as they rode the elevator up, but there eyes didn’t meet. Zach was doing everything he knew to feel upbeat about their worsening situation and it seemed Jeremy had finally succumbed to his grandfather’s desire to ruin their relationship.

David was in his office and, much to Zach’s relief, barely acknowledged Zach as the boys walked past his door. The last thing Zach needed at that moment was a confrontation with the man who could ruin his immediate prospects of a comfortable bed, not that the beds in the dorm were so bad he never wanted to sleep in them again. David’s condo was a great place to be, especially since Paul was there and Paul might still want Zach to pose for him.

When they finally stood in Zach’s bedroom, Jeremy quietly put the bags on the floor and turned to go.

“Wait,” Zach said.

Jeremy turned back, but didn’t look at Zach. He stood as if ready to bolt out the door.

“What happens to us now?” Zach asked.

“You don’t know Grandfather,” Jeremy said. “He’ll do everything he can to keep you away from me.”

“So, what happens to us?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you want to see me?” Zach asked. He stepped toward Jeremy, who noticeably stiffened as if unsure of their love.

“Well, of course, I do,” Jeremy said, “but Grandfather can be difficult. You don’t know what he can do.”

“What can he do?”

“I don’t want to go back to Switzerland and he can send me back to Mother. I want to be with you.”

Zach stepped up to Jeremy and kissed him. He felt Jeremy’s body relax as their lips parted. Their arms held each other tightly, but only Zach’s hands were doing anything close to attempting comfort.

“Call me when you can,” Zach said. He didn’t want to let Jeremy get away, but realized there was little he could do at the moment. “Come on, I’ll walk you down to the car.”

“Zach?”

Zach looked up. Paul stood at the door and said, “Hi, Jeremy, I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

“Hi,” Jeremy whispered. He looked at Zach and suddenly hurried away. He was out the door before Zach could react.

“So, what’s the news?” Zach asked. He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. His life was changing too fast for him and now, out of his own stupidity, he was cornered and in danger of losing everything important to him.

“Do you have anything important going on in the next few days?” Paul asked. He walked into the bedroom and went over to the sofa where he sat down.

“I’ve got fall term registration at school tomorrow,” Zach said as he sat down at the other end.

“I was hoping to get you down to the studio. We can get a lot of the preliminaries out of the way.”

“Preliminaries?”

“Yes, like you being comfortable in the studio.”

“What’s so uncomfortable about your studio?”

“Well, first of all, you won’t have any clothes on, most of the time.”

“What about you?”

“I can’t paint in the nude. Don’t think I haven’t tried, but it just too distracting.”

“Pity.”

“Look, why don’t we go down, anyway. Maybe we can go over to Bill’s and get a latte or something.”

“Sure, it’s not like I’m able to do much of anything else.”

Much to Zach’s surprise they walked down to the studio. The drop off the top of Pill Hill was steep and Zach thought of walking back up with that steep bit at the end. He wasn’t all that familiar with this part of Seattle and tried to pay attention, but being raised on a farm in Eastern Oklahoma where the tallest building he’d ever seen, the Hannaford Bank and Trust Building, was only two stories tall, did little to help him as he walked in the deep canyons below office buildings, condominiums, hotels, and hospitals that struggled to reach high enough to have at least a partial view of the waterfront.

They walked nearly straight down to First Avenue before turning left toward Pioneer Square. Crossing Yesler, Zach noticed the obvious change in the architecture and age of the buildings. In many ways, the buildings reminded him of the store fronts in Hannaford with all the old brick and stone. It was almost too quaint, too artsy for his taste.

“Your studio is down here?” Zach asked.

“Bit much isn’t it?” Paul said. “It’s mostly for the tourists, but I’ve been down here over twenty years so I tend to overlook the more obvious kitsch. After awhile it kind of grows on you. Let’s stop in here I feel like a latte and a Danish.”

“Isn’t it a little late for Danish?” Zach asked. It was a bookstore, Books on the Square, but it looked too touristy for any serious book selling. Yet, there were quite a few customers browsing the shelves or sitting in a variety of easy chairs and sofas seemingly haphazardly strewn about. Two spiral staircases led up to two upper floors that appeared to be full of more books. Zach followed Paul to the far side where a young woman, probably not over twenty, stood behind a counter emblazoned with posters for numerous concerts and plays in the area.

She was a lot younger as Zach neared. She couldn’t have been much more than nineteen with barely a hint of breasts, but with a tall and slender body that said, “I’m not your type, don’t even think of asking me out.” Her shirt was light blue, long sleeved with the collar unbuttoned. The khaki slacks were worn loose on the hips covering up whatever was underneath. She looked over at Zach and fear washed across her face.

“Hi, Marjorie,” Paul said. “This is my new model, Zach. You’ll probably be seeing a lot of us for the next few months.”

The barista stared at Zach and he knew who she was or, rather, who was hiding under the persona of Marjorie the Barista. He wanted to come right out and say something smart, but held back as if waiting to see if she might reveal her secret on her own.

“Hi, Marjorie,” Zach said. “It’s been awhile.”

“Yeah, what can I get y’all?” Marjorie said. She was obviously nervous. Her eyes tried to remain focused on Paul, but kept darting over to Zach as if he wasn’t really there and at any moment she’d realize he was only a figment of her imagination.

“But, I don’t remember the Southern accent,” Zach said.

“She’s from somewhere near Dallas,” Paul said. “She’s been working here all summer. What? Something about going to school up here?”

“Yes, I’ll be attending college this fall,” Marjorie said. She glanced, again, at Zach as her assumed persona slowly began to evaporate. “Do y’all want something drink or eat, or just to see sweet ol’ me?”

“You know what I want,” Zach said. He couldn’t hold back any longer.

Shock tore through Marjorie as she bolted toward the men’s room. Paul looked at Zach, who turned and headed toward the men’s room, too. When the door closed behind him it appeared he was alone. This was a toilet out of the past with white tile floors, marble counters and walls, and chrome, lost of polished chrome. Zach half expected to see a man in a tux offering warm towels. Marjorie wasn’t in sight. Zach looked at the row of four stalls and the end one, obviously added for accommodation as it glared with modernity.

“Bruce? Where are you?” Zach asked. He stood facing the closed doors of all the stalls trying to see in the gaps. “Come on, Bruce, I don’t want to play hide and seek.”

There was no response and, so, Zach tried each door, but each time he opened a door, he was faced with an empty stall. At the last stall, the handicapped one, Zach pushed on the door, expecting it to be locked, but it wasn’t. Marjorie was in the far corner cowering down behind the commode. She looked absolutely pathetic. Zach shut the door and locked it.

“Whatever you do, please don’t hit me,” Marjorie said.

“Dammit Bruce, quit being so fuckin’ dramatic,” Zach said. “You’re the martial arts expert and look at me, come on look at me, I couldn’t fight my way out of a paper sack.”

Marjorie continued to cower in the corner as if the made up persona had completely taken over Bruce’s being. Zach went over and sat down on the commode.

“You know, Marjorie, you’re not a bad looking girl,” Zach said. “Not that I’m looking for a girlfriend. Not going to say anything? Jerry said he called you, that night. He called me to say goodbye, but I didn’t think it was time for him to go.”

“He called me a couple weeks ago,” Bruce said from the corner. “He wanted to know if I was mad at him for slashing his wrists. He’s living with some nice people back in New York who are helping him. We talked for over an hour. I think I was falling in love with him. I couldn’t handle that.”

Bruce came out of the corner and squatted down in front of Zach. Tiredness hung about him as if being Marjorie required more effort than he could muster. More than that, though, he seemed horribly unhappy, as if a major part of Marjorie was an overbearing depression squeezing out of his heart whatever euphoria Bruce previously enjoyed.

“What happened to you?” Bruce asked.

“I thought he wanted a blow-job.”

“You can’t do that much damage with only hands. What’d he use? A two by four?”

“Boots.”

“Fuck.”

“Not right now, maybe when I get this cast off, though.”

“Damn it, Zach, is that all you think about?”

“Yeah, pretty much, and, you know, Marjorie? If I knew you weren’t a guy, I’d fuck you. You’re cute.”

“Ah, that’s so sweet.”

Bruce stood up and brought Zach up to where they were closer than they’d ever been since meeting three months earlier, so close they might have, under better circumstances, taken each other in their arms and kissed, but that wasn’t to be. Zach looked deep into Bruce’s eyes and saw uncertainty, which he accepted because of his own foolish actions since coming to Seattle.

“Was it bad?” Bruce asked. As he traced a finger along the edge of the surgical scar on Zach’s cheek.

“Worse than being beaten by a half dozen crazy cowboys and I know what that feels like. I fully expected to be dead. It was so fuckin’ bad. He meant to kill me, but he was stopped before getting close. I’m taking drugs to stop anxiety attacks I get. For the longest time, I kept seeing him, but he’s in jail down in Texas. In fact, Marjorie, he’s probably in your county jail. When Paul said where you were from, I thought maybe you knew.”

“Ohmigod! No, god, Zach, no, I didn’t, honest. Jeez, Zach, you must have thought I was . . . oh, fuck!”

“I’d like to. In fact, I’d like to get to know you a whole lot better.”

Zach leaned in and put his lips to Bruce’s. They were soft, welcoming, accepting his invitation. Smelling lilac, Zach was reminded of going into the bathroom after his mother had taken a bath and smelling whatever concoction it was she added to her bath water. Whatever it was the room was left smelling strongly of lilac.

Their bodies were close together and Zach felt the hard throb of Bruce’s erection pressing against his own need. A momentary flash of Jeremy crossed his mind as he felt his belt being loosened, but this was no time for childish games. His good hand began to work its way up inside Bruce’s shirt seeking a pair of sensual nubbins.

“Hey! Bruce? Are you in here?” a voice asked from the door.

“Fuck!” Bruce hissed.

“Yes I am, Uncle Bill,” Bruce said as he quickly pulled up Zach’s pants.

“Well, it’s getting busy out here and you know I can’t do lattes worth shit,” Uncle Bill said. “If you’re not too busy, I’d appreciate a little help.”

“I’ll be right out.”

“Who’s Uncle Bill?” Zach asked.

“My uncle, he owns the store,” Bruce said. “I guess I’ll have to do my first blowjob some other time.”

“Your first?”

“Yeah, I told you I was a virgin.”

“Shit! I figured you were just kidding me, us, I mean. Jerry was there, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, he was there. I’d better go.”

“Can I call you tonight?”

“Yeah, come on. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Zach said wondering if he and Bruce could get together, again. A brief thought of Jeremy passed, and an ever stronger memory of Bud took its place. Maybe getting together with Bruce wasn’t such a bad idea.

Around the corner and two blocks east, the building housing Paul’s studio was in the midst of a major renovation. The elevator wasn’t available so they had to use the stairs up to the fifth floor, which, except for the northeast corner, was almost completely devoid of interior walls, ceilings, and finished flooring. Wire-caged light bulbs hung from a tangled mass of orange extension cords woven in the framework for the ceiling. An old building musty odor tinged with the tangy smell of recently cut sheetrock assaulted Zach’s senses as he followed Paul to a plain white door that looked very temporary.

“I couldn’t decide whether to move or let them finished my studio first,” Paul said as he unlocked the door. “I’ve been in this building from the beginning and wasn’t certain I’d be able to connect with my canvas in a different location. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, it’s like a horse,” Zach said. “No, really, I think it’s just like my first horse, Sally, which I raised for 4-H and then trained for steer roping. Dad offered to give me five of his best cows plus one of his older horses, or I could start my own herd the following spring with two of the calves he’d pick out for me. I liked Sally and wanted to keep her. It took me a long time to decide.”

“You kept her, then.”

“No, she was good, but I couldn’t pass up the chance to jumpstart my own herd and, besides, Dad did give me Billy which was his favorite horse. Then two years later he gave me Sally’s colt.”

“Sounds like your dad is quite a guy.”

“He’s a fucking bigoted asshole who doesn’t deserve what he’s got.”

They were inside the studio and Zach began to look around. He didn’t know what to expect, but was surprised at the amount of light coming in through the three skylights. The walls were a stark white which brightened the room even more. There were no windows, but there was a small kitchenette in one corner; what looked like a large walk-in closet in the opposite corner and turned out to be a three-quarter bath; an assortment of wooden stands that he assumed were for posing along the far wall; beside the door there was a small desk with a laptop on it; and on the other side of the door a full sized bed with a metal frame seemed out of place.

What caught his eye, though, was the floor. It was polished hardwood without a speck of paint anywhere. In fact, other than the stands, this room might not have been a studio, not that Zach knew what an artist’s studio was supposed to look like.

“Well?” asked Paul.

“I don’t know, it seems cold, uninviting. There’s no paint splatters. I thought there’d be splotches of paint on the floor.”

“Tarps and a fastidious need for cleanliness. I don’t know where it comes from, but I admit I’m a neatness freak when it comes to my personal spaces.”

“Uncle David strikes me as being rather neat, too.”

“He’s a pig. If it weren’t for your Aunt Louise, and now in a sense myself, David would still be down on the farm slopping hogs. He’s pathetic. Paper strewn all over. Half eaten cookies put back in the jar. He even drinks from the milk carton.”

“You know Aunt Louise?” asked Zach. He followed Paul over to the bed and sat down beside him.

“Yeah, we talk now and then,” Paul said. “Not that David knows I do it, but she called once needing something for their kids. We had a nice long talk.”

“But, she said she’d never have anything to do with him, ever again,” Zach said tensing a bit when Paul’s hand came to rest on his thigh.

“They have kids, well, they’re both adults now, but you know that. Louise has always pretty much managed the financial side of David’s writing. She still does, to some extent, anyway.”

“But, I remember when she told Dad and Mom about him being gay, or rather, in her words, an ass licking homo.”

“Do you know where she’s living, now?”

“Tulsa, I think.”

“Do you know who she’s living with?”

“Should I?”

“As far as this conversation goes, she’s living with another woman, a known lesbian.”

“What?” Zach exclaimed.

Paul’s hand was softly massaging his thigh halfway between his knee and, well, somewhere Zach wasn’t too certain he wanted massaged. It was so nonchalant, as if it was a normal occurrence. He wanted to tell Paul to stop. Yet, he wanted the hand to work its way up his leg, too, as if the hand could act on its own accord.

“Your Aunt Louise found out the sexual landscape doesn’t have fences. If you let your heart lead you, sometimes you might find yourself sleeping with someone who has the exact same needs as you. She’s quite happy, actually, not that David will ever know. David can be rather vindictive about matters of the heart.”

“Wow! I would never have guessed. I bet my father doesn’t know.”

“Your mother does, but, you’re right, your father doesn’t. What’d Louise call him? Something about an ignorant, head in the dirt, farmer, or something.”

Zach wasn’t certain and he wasn’t about to look, but the hand seemed to be closer to his growing dick. He needed to move as it was stiffening at an uncomfortable angle. His aunt was queer, too. That was a revelation, but not quite as important as what was happening at that moment.

He stared across the room, lost in the confusing sensations Paul’s hands, as both of them were touching his body, now. His dick seemed to be bending itself into an odd shape and was getting painful. He needed to move to adjust himself, but he didn’t want to stop what Paul was doing to him.

Paul was still talking. Words came out of his mouth, but he wasn’t paying attention to what was being said. He swallowed and made a little gasp. He looked at Paul who smiled and their lips met.

Zach felt himself being lowered back onto the bed. Paul’s tongue was in his mouth; and, yet, everything was happening at a slow rate as if Paul wasn’t in a hurry and had all the time in the world to get this done. Zach shut his eyes and imagined he was dreaming.

When he felt his zipper being pulled open, Zach whispered, “Please don’t. Not now.”

He felt Paul move away from him and Zach opened his eyes. Paul stared at him without expression.

“Got a headache?” Paul asked.

“Something like that,” Zach said as he sat up. “Look, I’d really like to do this, but I probably lost my boyfriend.”

“Jeremy?”

“Yeah, Jeremy. And, I found Bruce.”

“Bruce?”

“You know, the sophomore from college who was Jerry’s friend, sort of.”

“Oh, the karate guy?”

“Yeah, the karate guy.”

Paul got to his feet and walked over to where there were some chairs and brought one back to the bed. He sat down and tried to force a smile, but it looked more like a smirk.

“Where’d you meet him?” Paul asked, getting up and walking across the room. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure, that’d be nice,” Zach said. “He was in the bookstore. We almost got it on in the men’s room before his uncle broke up the party.”

“That was Marjorie,” Paul said from the kitchenette. He was grinding some coffee beans.

“Bruce hides his homosexuality by dressing as women,” Zach said. He stood up and picked up the chair, which he took over to the kitchenette. “When I first saw Marjorie I wasn’t certain, but she was wearing the same shade of eye shadow that René the Fairy wears.”

“Bruce is René the Fairy, too?”

“Yeah, I saw right through that one, too. He tries really hard and fools a lot of people.”

“He certainly had me fooled. Then he’s …”

“No! He’s definitely not trans-whatever or a cross-dresser. He does it so people won’t suspect he’s gay. That’s why he’s does the karate thing, but everyone knows and no one does anything. He’s just scared. That’s all.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re all scared of being different at one time or another.”

“No kidding,” Zach said as he took the cup of coffee offered by Paul. Jeremy came to mind briefly, but Zach put that thought away knowing there was little chance of ever getting together with Jeremy again. Bud was going to do everything he could to destroy their friendship so why put a lot of effort into something that was doomed to failure.

Bruce, on the other hand, offered a new challenge. Zach didn’t know how experienced Bruce was in sexual matters, and strongly suspected Bruce was still a virgin like he said. He’d have to go slow with Bruce so he didn’t scare him away, but he wasn’t certain he could hold back his emotions as Bruce was very desirable at the moment.

They’d almost gotten it on. Bruce was going down on him. He knew Bruce had never done it before, but it didn’t happen and now he would have to wait until those feelings could be recreated because Zach knew that was one of those defining moments when inhibitions are tossed to the wind and something that might have been totally abhorrent became something highly desirable. He would have blown his load in Bruce’s mouth as Bruce wanted, but that moment had passed unfulfilled.

“You seem a little moody this morning,” Sara said after she pulled away from the curb. Zach knew she didn’t have to take him to registration. He could’ve taken the bus, but he figured she wanted to talk about things, things he wasn’t too certain he wanted to talk about. So, he agreed, even if he wasn’t too excited about being alone with her.

“Did you bring your checkbook?” Sara asked. “You know this trip will be fruitless if you left it at home.”

“I have my checkbook,” Zach said as he rummaged through his backpack looking for it. He remembered putting it in, so it must be in one of the pockets, but which one, there were too many. He knew it was in there, in a place that was obvious. He stopped for a moment and in the corner of his eye saw Sara glancing over at him. This was not a good time to panic. The checkbook was in the bag. He put it there this morning. He put it where? It’s in the bag. He put it in the bag. “Yeah, here it is.”

“And, I have checks, too,” he said, holding up the book so she could see. He hoped he didn’t sound too short, but he wasn’t in the mood for conversation. What he was in the mood for was Bruce. “I saw Bruce yesterday.”

“Is he still working at his uncle’s bookstore down in the Square?”

“You knew he was working at the bookstore?”

“Well, sure, everybody knew that. Ohmigod! You didn’t, did you? He said that. What? What was it that he said? Oh, yeah, it was a secret. You didn’t beat him up, did you?”

“No, he thought I was going to, but he was in drag so I couldn’t. You’re not supposed to hit girls. Hey, watch out!”

“What?”

“Didn’t you see that blue car?”

“Oh, that one, of course I saw it,” Sara said as she looked in her rearview mirror and then became occupied with her eye makeup.

“Are you going to drive, or put on your makeup?” Zach asked. His eyes were everywhere watching out for other cars that seemed oblivious to the girl beside him who wasn’t paying any attention to them either. They all moved along at nearly seventy miles an hour, changing lanes if the car in front was going slower, or going as slow as safety allowed as the other cars zipped around them. Sara seemed to be somewhere in between, going slow to fiddle with her makeup and going fast when she remembered they had to be at check-in before ten o’clock.

“If you were a good gay boy, you’d be able to do my makeup while I drive,” Sara said. “And, I wouldn’t have to drive and fix my makeup.”

“What’s being gay have to do with knowing about makeup?” Zach asked, even though he didn’t want to go there. There was only one chance to deflect the conversation. “Have you ever seen me in makeup?”

“Well, no, silly, you’re not that kind. You know, like Bruce. Bruce knows how to do makeup. He’s even given me a few pointers on what colors I should wear, but I can never remember so I just wear what I want. By the way, was he Marjorie?”

“Yeah, the little waif with the fake Texan accent. He almost fooled me, too. Until I got closer, then I knew. We made up though.”

“Bruce is nice. You should date him.”

“Instead of your brother?”

“Grandfather would be a lot happier.”

“How is Jeremy?”

“On restriction. For the rest of his life, I think.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Zach said, not believing he could say such a thing. He missed Jeremy, missed him too much, but it was not to be, not at least until he could prove to Bud that he wasn’t the whore Bud thought he was. Of course, there was Bruce, too. Bruce was available and Bruce seemed to want to do things, at least he did yesterday.

“You know it’s not,” Sara said. She looked over at him, but Zach pretended not to notice. “I’m surprised you could say that. You love my brother and he loves you.”

“And, your grandfather thinks I’m no better than dried up pond scum.”

“No, I think he likes you a little bit, maybe just pond scum.”

“Thanks, you’re sweet.”

“I know, and you should date me, too.”

“Okay.”

“But, you can’t because grandfather won’t let you near Jeremy. He told me not to bring you home.”

“Figures.”

“Well, I could come and get you since you can’t drive. Have you ever kissed a girl?”

“As a matter of fact I had a girlfriend before everyone thought I was gay,” Zach said as an image of Jeremy crossed his mind. The last time he saw him in the condo when Paul came into the room. That was just yesterday and, in all likelihood, might be the last time they’d see each other for a long, long time. “We kissed, too. She was nice, but she believed them, too. Everyone believed I was gay. You can’t imagine what it’s like to have everyone hate you.”

“No, I can’t,” Sara said. She turned into the student parking lot on the far side of the athletic fields and zipped into the first spot. “But that doesn’t mean we couldn’t go out sometime.”

“What about Eb?”

“Who?”

“Darnel.”

“Why’d you call him Eb? Ohmigod! You’re right! Oh, god, that’s so funny. Oh, he’s gonna be so mad, but that doesn’t matter right now. Would you like to go out, say, to a movie, oh, say, tonight? Maybe we could get a burger or something before. I’ll have to take you home before curfew, though. And, you don’t have to kiss me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Zach asked. He looked at her and wondered if it all had been some horrible dream and he just woke up and Sara was his girlfriend; and, no, they hadn’t had sex yet because she wanted to wait. He wondered if she sucked Eb’s dick before they fucked or if she just spread her legs and let him put it to her. He looked at her fingers and wondered if she knew how to put a condom on. Well, of course she did. Everyone knew about condoms. He wondered if she had a couple condoms in her backpack, like he did along with a small bottle of lube. He wondered if she carried some lube, too.

“Are you okay?” Sara asked.

“Oh, sure, just thinking about things. Yeah, I guess we could go to a movie, but won’t your grandfather be suspicious?”

“Fuck him!”

“He’s too old for me.”

“Ew! That’s sick! How can you even think, oh, yeah, you can think of that, can’t you?”

“Sorry, it just slipped out.”

“And, I promise not to try to make you straight,” Sara said patting him softly on his ass. He looked at her and wondered if she swallowed.

“Okay.”

Bruce was sitting at his regular table in the corner and Sara was sitting next to him. There wasn’t anyone else at the table. Zach walked up to them and sat in the chair opposite Bruce and right beside Sara. She patted his thigh and said, “How’s my honey?”

“Sweet as ever,” Zach said. “Oh, hi, Bruce, didn’t see you. Are you sweet, too?”

“What’s with you two?” Bruce asked.

“She my new girlfriend,” Zach said. “I had this girl from Texas, but I can’t find her anywhere. You don’t happen to know anyone from Texas, would you?”

“Very funny,” Bruce said. “You know I don’t do that at school anymore. So, what is with you two?”

“I’m taking him to dinner and a movie tonight,” Sara said. She had a can of diet cola, but seemed to be ignoring it. “And, afterwards, well I guess I’ll go home and watch a movie with my brother.”

“Obviously, you like movies,” Bruce said. “But, Zach, you’re going out on a date, with a girl?”

“Yeah, so?”

“You’re not supposed to date girls.”

“You dress up like a girl and I want to take you out. So, what’s the difference?”

“Would you go to dinner and a movie with Marjorie?” Bruce asked. He tried to smile, but it faded quickly to a frown.

“I’d like that,” Zach said. “Do you know how I can get in touch with her? Maybe, Saturday night.”

“She has to work until seven,” Bruce said.

“I could come down to the store, say about six, and then we could go from there. Do you think your uncle will mind me going out with Marjorie? You know, me being queer.”

“No, he won’t mind.”

“Well, you two certainly aren’t a lot of fun,” Sara said.

“Oh, sorry, I thought you wanted me to go out with Bruce?” Zach asked. He put his hand on her thigh and felt the muscle tighten. Yeah, he thought, she swallows.

“Well, I thought you’d call him.”

“He’s right here.”

“Yes, I am,” Bruce said. “I was telling Sara she shouldn’t use any shade of lavender on her eyes. It doesn’t work for her.”

“Marjorie wears lavender eye shadow,” Zach said.

“You noticed,” Bruce said.

“Yeah, I kind of like her. It’ll be nice going out on a date with her.”

“She doesn’t leave the bookstore,” Bruce said, looking down at his lap. “Only René goes outside.”

“Then, I guess, I’ll have to settle taking you to dinner and a movie,” Zach said. “But, I can’t drive, so it’ll be either cab or bus. I don’t think my chauffeur works nights.”

“Paul?”

“Yeah, Paul.”

“Okay, you two, if you going to ignore me, I’m leaving,” Sara said. “And, you, Zach, can figure out how to get home on your own.”

“College Flyer to downtown then the Number 2, I think,” Zach said.

“The Number 1 stops a block closer to your condo,” Bruce said.

“You’ve been there?” Zach asked.

“I used to have a friend that lived up that way.”

“Oh?”

“He’s with someone else. He wanted more than I was willing to give, at the time, anyway.”

“And, you’re willing now?”

“Okay, I’m leaving,” Sara said. “Zach? I’ll pick you up at six. We’re going to Chez Martín, so dress appropriately.”

“Ooh, fancy!” Bruce exclaimed.

“Dressy?” Zach asked.

“Very.” Bruce said. “You’ll definitely need a jacket and tie.”

“Well, if I have to dress up, why can’t we go to a play, or something?” Zach asked.

“Because this isn’t New York City,” Bruce said.

“You two!” Sara exclaimed. “And, I’ll check to see if there is something other than a movie to go to.”

“We could go back to the condo and watch a movie in my bedroom,” Zach said. “We could snuggle on the sofa. I’m sure my uncle has something other than porn; or, do you like gay porn?”

“You have a sofa in your bedroom?” Sara and Zach asked, practically in unison.

“Yeah, my uncle’s condo isn’t one of those hundred thousand dollar apartment conversions. It’s got like almost three thousand square feet, I think. It’s huge. There’s even a formal dining room, if you can believe that.”

“Wow, is your uncle rich or something?” Sara asked. “Because, you know, if you’ve got more money than my grandfather thinks you have, we might be able to use that to get him to like you.”

“I don’t have any money,” Zach said. “And, I don’t know if my uncle is rich. He writes mystery novels. Can anyone make any money doing that?”

“If you’re good,” Bruce said. “Is he good?”

“I don’t’ know,” Zach said. “I haven’t read anything he’s written. Have either of you read anything by David Brandon?”

“David Brandon?” Sara and Bruce asked, again, almost in unison.

“You two are going to have to stop doing that,” Zach said.

“You mean the movie producer David Brandon?” Sara asked.

“Or, the award winning screenwriter David Brandon?” Bruce asked. “He’s one nearly every award you can win. Didn’t he win a Pulitzer, too?”

“For a mystery novel?” Zach asked.

“No, it was for something earlier in his career, some literary thing, before he went for the money and went to Hollywood,” Sara said. “Don’t look at me like that, both of you know Doctor Jeffers comes to the house all the time. He’s like an expert on David Brandon. By the way, Zach, did Doctor Jeffers give you a preset schedule?”

“Yeah, my life is one big term paper for the next four years,” Zach said. His hand was still on Sara’s thigh and her hand was on top of his. It felt warm, welcoming. Yeah, Sara definitely swallowed. The only question was, could he reciprocate? If she went down on him, was he obligated to go down and put his face and mouth and tongue in that place? Could he get away with using only his fingers? Could he put his fingers in that place? Maybe Sara didn’t swallow.

“He was doing that this morning,” Sara said. “I think it’s because of his attack. It wasn’t that long ago and I think he’s still supposed to be seeing that psychiatrist.”

“Are you two talking about me?” Zach asked.

“Yes, Sara was asking if you’d prefer oral or anal sex tonight,” Bruce said with an evil smile. “And, I said I didn’t know since we’ve never done anything, together, ever. Then she said she preferred anal sex, but would do oral sex if you really wanted, but she really isn’t into having cocks in her mouth, so you’d have to fuck her, only she doesn’t do it the regular way because she’s saving that for husband number one. She wants to be a virgin on her wedding night.”

“God! You’re as bad as Zach,” Sara said. Bruce winced, obviously in response to a well aimed kick in the shin. “I’m leaving. Zach, remember, six and jacket and tie are definitely appropriate.”

They watched Sara walk out of the cafeteria, Zach watching her ass, wondering if she’d like his cock up her ass. It certainly looked like a fuckable ass. Yeah, definitely fuckable. He looked over at Bruce, who looked back.

“So, do you want to take me home or should we go to my place?” Zach asked.

“It’ll have to be your place because my parents don’t like gay boys,” Bruce said with a frown. “They don’t even like their own gay boy.”

“Are they hassling you?”

“Yeah, I was supposed to move out when I was eighteen, but I don’t make enough at the bookstore to pay rent somewhere and go to school. I definitely don’t want to live in a dorm.”

“Do you want to go to the condo?” Zach asked. “Maybe we could pick up where we stopped yesterday at the bookstore. Or, maybe we could do something else.”

“Are you always so subtle?” Bruce asked.

“If you’re uncomfortable about this, we don’t have to do anything,” Zach said.

“You know I’ve never done anything. Even with Jerry, it was never more than just kissing and, well, maybe a little frottage, once, or maybe twice.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Zach said. “Besides, look at me, I’m not the most desirable gay boy at this table.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I know of at least one gay boy who’d love you get you naked.”

“Well, then, I guess we’d better go.”