They lay that way for a long time, side by side, staring at the ceiling, silent but for the sound of their heavy breaths gradually slowing to a normal rhythm. Doug glanced at Stewart. Sweat had made ringlets of dark hair around his forehead. He kept his eyes closed.
Remembering the post-climax silence of their last encounter, Doug wondered if he was going to hear another word out of him now that it was over. He watched him for a moment longer, then climbed out of bed to retrieve a towel from the bathroom and ditch the condom.
When he returned, Stewart’s eyes were open, but he still stared at the ceiling, silent.
“Here.” Doug tossed Stewart a wet towel. It landed on his chest. Stewart looked down and grabbed it, then sat up.
“Be right back,” he said, and headed off to the bathroom with it.
Doug watched him go, then took a deep breath, retrieving his fallen boxer shorts and slipping them on. He got back in bed and turned on his side, facing the radiator. He didn’t move when he heard Stewart come back into the room. He expected Stewart would want to leave and go back upstairs, and Doug didn’t want to make it any harder on him by trying to engage him in conversation.
He heard him blow out the candles, then felt the mattress shift. Stewart’s warm body pressed against his back. A strong arm slid around his waist and pulled him in tight. Stewart’s lips tickled the skin behind Doug’s ear as he nuzzled in, his breath warm. “You okay there, serial killer?”
Doug chuckled softly. “I’m great.”
Stewart’s arm tightened around him. “Yeah,” he said. “You are.”
Doug smiled in the darkness. Stewart continued to hold him close as he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Nine
The bed was cold when Doug’s phone alarm went off at 5 a.m. with a shrill beep. Cold and empty. He reached over and shut the alarm off, then sat up, listening for any sign that he wasn’t alone.
Climbing out of bed, he padded through the apartment. There was no one here. Stewart had once again fled before morning. He forced himself to put it out of his mind. He had to work today, and after a week off, he’d need his concentration.
But after putting on his running clothes and heading down to the pond, he found his mind was only in one place. As his feet pounded, sunrise glittering on the water, memories of last night dominated his thoughts.
A fine mess,
Stewart had said. It sure was.
But Doug pushed aside the regret that tried to overtake him. So he’d slept with Stewart again.
Oops! I did it again
. So what? He was grownup, and had made a grownup decision. To have grownup sex. With grownup Stewart. No sense whining about it, or overanalyzing it, or replaying every bit of their conversations in his mind. That’s what old Doug would have done. He was new Doug. He was hip and worldly and open minded, and didn’t fret over silly things, like his lover having a lover who had other lovers. Right.
“Invite me in.”
Doug pushed his legs harder, quickening his pace. The air was cool and crisp. Pink petals fell like confetti from the trees, covering the path before him. He urged his thoughts back to the present. What would he wear to work today? What would he have for breakfast? Would the guys on the shop floor be glad to see him, teasing and giving him a hard time as they always did? He was looking forward to getting in there and starting his routine again.
“Are you trying to say you want to leave Corey?”
“I don’t know.”
“Shit,” Doug said aloud as he wiped sweat from his brow.
He was fooling himself, new Doug or not. Wyatt had been right, Doug wasn’t like Corey and Stewart. He could never share his lover like that. Already, thoughts of Stewart in bed with Corey taunted him, making him tense and slightly nauseous.
The endorphins from the run took the edge off slightly, and he felt better when he got out of the shower. He got dressed and dug around the bedside drawer for his work badge, finding it behind the condoms. He stared at the condoms for a moment, then slammed the drawer closed. He would not think about last night, not for the rest of the day. That was a start. He’d taught himself over the past few months to control his feelings, with meditation and anger management. He’d finally managed to cope with being cheated on by Harry and robbed blind by Harry’s lover. Shit, if he could do that, he could handle not thinking about Stewart for one frigging day.
But ten minutes later, as he sat in his car ready to pull out of the garage, Stewart knocked on the driver’s side window. Doug put the window down and looked into his smiling face, his heart fluttering. “Hey.”
“Hey, off to work?”
“Yeah,” Doug said. “Back to the grind.”
“Well, I didn’t get to thank you for last night. I had fun.”
Fun
. Okay, that was one word for it.
“Yeah, I had a good time too,” Doug said.
“Are you gonna go to karaoke Wednesday night?” Stewart asked.
“Ah, I don’t think so.” Doug chuckled. “Not really my thing.”
“Oh, you have to go,” Stewart said. “Doug, it’s nuts. You have to experience this place.”
Doug smiled at him. “Don’t tell me you sing.”
Stewart laughed and shook his head. “No. Only in the shower. Corey had to drag me kicking and screaming to karaoke the first time, but it’s a really good time. People dress up, use props. It’s a trip. You should go.”
“Well, I’ll think about it.”
Stewart nodded, and held his eyes. “Will you call me?” When Doug hesitated, he added, “If you decide you want to go on Wednesday?”
Doug nodded. “Sure.”
Stewart gazed at him, expression conflicted. Finally, he gave a small smile and straightened up, stepping back. “Okay. Have a good day at work.”
“You too,” Doug said, and pulled out of the garage.
He backed out of the driveway and headed down the road, shaking his head. Don’t think about him. Sure. Piece of cake.
But surprisingly he was able to put Stewart out of his mind for most of the day. Work was busy, and he hit the ground running and didn’t stop until well after five. And as he’d anticipated, it was refreshing being back into it, a familiar place with familiar people and problems to solve.
When he got home that night, Stewart’s van was gone, but Corey’s car was parked in the driveway. Doug let himself in through the back entrance, fortunately without running into Mr. Magic Hands. He changed into sweats and a tee shirt and did some weight lifting. Afterward he checked his phone and found a text from Jairo. Doug had sent him one earlier, having gotten his number from Wyatt. He figured he’d try and focus on securing some new friends that did
not
live upstairs. And that he wasn’t sleeping with.
‘Can’t get together this week for drinks. I’ll call you when my schedule frees up.’
Doug frowned. Jairo probably wanted nothing to do with him after the way their last drink night had turned out for him.
He wasn’t hungry yet, so figured he should probably try to meditate. But the sun was still shining outside, and the beautiful evening called to him, so he decided to go for a casual stroll down to the pond instead. When he stepped out onto the front porch, there was a man sitting on the steps. He turned and looked up at Doug with sad brown eyes. He was middle aged and balding, with slumped shoulders under a white, collared shirt.
“Hi,” Doug said as he closed the door.
“Hi. Do you know if Corey’s home?”
“Um...” Doug glanced back at the door. “His car’s here. Did you try ringing the doorbell?”
The man stood. “I’ve been ringing the doorbell, he isn’t answering. I had an appointment with him and...” He sighed heavily, wringing his hands. “I just really need this appointment tonight. He’s never canceled before, I just...I just don’t understand why he’s not answering.”
Just then, the door opened and Corey peeked his head out.
“Oh there you are!” The man beamed at Corey, lighting up as though he’d seen the face of God.
Corey stepped onto the porch, dressed in white cotton pants and sandals with a flowy paisley shirt, like some strange guru. “Leonard, I’m so sorry, I got caught up on a phone call. Come on in.”
“Oh, I was so worried, I mean I didn’t think you’d cancel, but I was so worried.”
He followed Corey into the house. Corey closed the front door behind him without so much as a glance at Doug.
“Hi Corey,” Doug said to the closed door. “Nice to see you, too.” Doug shook his head and headed down to the pond.
He walked one loop around, enjoying the fresh air and then sat on a bench and did some people watching for a while. When his stomach began to growl he headed back home.
As he was unlocking his apartment door, he heard a strange, masculine howl coming from above. He frowned, glancing up the stairs to the second floor apartment. The sound came again, like a wounded dog. Must be Leonard, he decided. Getting his bliss on.
He shook his head and went inside, thinking about Corey. Healer indeed. Hooker was more likely. Doug had had professional massages before. None of them had made
him
howl like that.
****
The next two days went by without incident, and Doug was beginning to feel like himself again. Work was busy. His apartment was quiet at night. And he’d managed not to run into either Stewart or Corey at all.
The events of last week began to feel like a strange, distant dream. As normalcy set in, he was able to reflect on it all from a more detached vantage point. And decided that he must have been out of his mind. Temporarily insane.
What had he been thinking, getting involved with those guys?
Sleeping
with Stewart? The neighbor? The neighbor’s boyfriend, even? That wasn’t his style. He’d been out of control. The more he thought about it, the more a sense of embarrassment crept in, like a bad hangover. One of those that came after getting stupid drunk and making a fool of himself. That hadn’t happened to him since college, but he clearly recalled the shameful, day-after feeling. The feeling he had now felt similar—like he’d been under the influence of a drug and done some stupid shit. Stupid
naked
shit.
But the spell was broken now. He’d been strong this week so far. It was already Wednesday, and he’d held back and hadn’t called or texted Stewart. And Stewart hadn’t contacted him, about karaoke or anything else.
After dinner, he got into his sweatpants and meditated. The mantra took him down deep this time, which pleased him. It meant his head was clearing, no more chaotic thoughts taking control, ruining his hard earned serenity. He was down so deep that he let out a little yelp when a hard knock rattled the apartment door, startling him. “Holy crap,” he said, jolting up.
He stood and made his way down the hallway into the living room. When he opened the door, his jaw dropped. Standing in the foyer—in black leather pants with a neon green, netted tank top—was Corey. His blond hair was moussed into spikes, and he was wearing makeup; gray eyes edged with black kohl.
“Doug!” he said, looking him up and down. “You’re not ready yet? Come on. It’s time to go.”
Chapter Ten
Doug gaped at Corey. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but what the holy hell are you wearing?”
Corey grinned. “My glam rock gear. Gonna hit karaoke at The Horse and Carriage and get down with my bad self. You’re coming, right?”
Doug rubbed his eyes, still drowsy from the meditation. “Well, I wasn’t planning on it, to be honest. I was just gonna hang in tonight.”
“Oh, okay Grampa,” Corey said. “I’m having people back to the house after, so we’ll probably end up keeping you awake anyway. You might as well come.”
Doug’s shoulders sagged. “Oh,
man
. I’m in my sweatpants. I just want to plop down on the couch and watch the
Long Island Medium
.”
Corey pushed through the door and closed it behind him. “You won’t let me purge your bad energy, but you watch
that
shit? Come on. Let’s find you something to wear.”
Doug stared after Corey, who strolled down toward his bedroom like he owned the place. “You know you don’t live here, right?” he called out as he followed.
When he stepped into his bedroom, Corey was sitting on the bed with his arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow cocked. “Really? Then why the hell is my sound machine here?”
“Oh. Ah, Stewart gave it to me.”
Corey pulled a sour face. “Stewart gave you my sound machine? Why?”
Doug chuckled. “I could hear things through the radiator.”
Corey’s eyes widened. He looked over at the radiator, then back at Doug. “You could hear...
things
? From our bedroom?”
Doug nodded. “Before I got the sound machine.”
Corey stood up and moved past Doug. “That’s disgusting. Pervert. Now where’s your closet?” Corey opened the closet and started rifling through Doug’s shirts, shoving the hangers aside one by one.
Doug sat down on the bed. “You’re not gonna find any glam rock clothes in there, I assure you.”
Corey looked over his shoulder, black-lined eyes narrowed. “
Everyone
doesn’t have to dress like this, but you could at least wear something besides denim and flannel.”
“I like denim and flannel.”
Corey whirled around. “That’s it! We can cut the arms off one of your flannels and you can be grunge. Can you sing like Eddie Vedder?”
“No, Corey. I can’t sing like Eddie Vedder. Where’s Stewart? Why don’t you go play dress-up with him?”
“He had to go fix a sink,” he said, turning his attention back to the closet. “He’s gonna meet us down there later. Besides, he won’t dress up. I’ve tried.” He pulled out a black button down shirt and held it up. “This isn’t bad.”
“I wore that to my grandfather’s funeral.”
Corey sneered at the shirt. “Eww.” He put it back. “Well, you must have
something
.”
Doug stood, sighing. “What if I just wear a black tee shirt and jeans?”
Corey whirled around, grinning. “That works. You can be like my roadie.” He paused. “Then you’ll come?”