Microsoft Word - MeantForEachOther.doc (3 page)

Just as he blew out a second puff of smoke, two men walked by. One, overly muscled like he spent his life in the gym, the other a waifish, petite thing. They held hands. As they passed Craig, they waved at the air and the shorter of the two made an exaggerated show of coughing then glared at him. Craig simply smiled at the mousy little man, but made a mental note he needed to give quitting a shot once again.

Just as he started to head back inside, his cell phone vibrated at his hip. He glanced at the caller ID and an immediate wave of panic passed through his chest. Robert.. And it was six o’clock. Shit. Wincing, he flipped open the phone. “Hey, babe.”

“Where in the hell are you? You’re supposed to be here. You know how annoyed I get when you don’t keep our plans.” Craig sighed inaudibly. Robert, his boyfriend for the past eight years, worked in Battery Park for Goldman Sachs as an investment banker and was nothing if not punctual, precise, and a pain in the ass.

“I’m so sorry. The project for those two batty ladies with the B&B is giving me problems and I lost track of time…again.” Craig hoped his excuse would ease the irritation radiating at him through the phone. Robert responded well to business and work issues.

“Well, I guess I can understand that, but you should have called to tell me you’d be late.”

Craig shook his head. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be home in about twenty minutes.” He hung up and went back inside to shut down his work station and gather his things. He lived with Robert in the West Village so the walk home was short and pleasant. Before leaving, he flipped through the file for Earth and Sea one more time, then closed it a bit more roughly than intended and left the building, locking up behind himself.

He pulled out another cigarette and cupped his hand to prevent the wind from blowing out the flame. His foot caught on an uneven patch of the sidewalk and he stumbled. The cigarette dropped to the ground as Craig grabbed for the phone booth next to him before making a complete ass of himself and tumbling all the way to the ground. His cigarette rolled down the sidewalk, blown by the wind, so he abandoned the idea of smoking, and continued walking south towards the West Village.

He passed one of the many travel agencies littered about Chelsea and his thoughts returned to Robert. A mixture of sadness and aggravation filled him as he recalled 8

D.H. Starr

Meant For Each Other

Robert’s terse tone over the phone. For the past couple of years, ever since Robert had been promoted at work and ran his own domestic trading floor, he had become fixated on deadlines and money, unable to draw a line between work and his personal life. He seemed to measure his worth by material success, what he owned, where he traveled, how others perceived him.

As always when he longed for the way their relationship used to be, Craig’s mind drifted back to the night eight years ago, each detail as vivid as if it had just happened.

* * * * *

Twenty-two and fresh out of college, Craig had just moved to New York into his small loft in the West Village, something he had sublet from an artist who would be traveling through Europe for a year.

Despite his friendship with Janet, a friendship which had saved him from his loneliness and depression, Craig had never given men a real chance. No one could measure up to Jeremy. If Craig were to be honest with himself, he didn’t want anyone to be able to replace the one person who he truly loved. A part of him had hoped that someday they might reconnect, but Jeremy had called him less and less frequently the more time passed and Craig was too afraid that if he raised the issue, he might push Jeremy away completely. As it turned out, that was precisely what happened without him doing anything.

After he and his friends unloaded his stuff, he had decided to explore the city. He found himself in a local gay bar, The Monster, located in the heart of the gayest part of the neighborhood, Christopher Street.

He had been out since he had gone to college, but UNH didn’t have a vibrant and extensive gay community and his sexual experiences had been limited at best. The choice to move to the city was bold, but also exciting and he couldn’t wait for his world to open up before him.

When he entered The Monster, he pushed his nerves aside and walked to the bar, preparing himself to be carded. He looked at least three years younger than his actual age and had miraculously retained a fresh-faced look that belied the depression he’d suffered for years. As he sidled up to the bar, he noted the doubtful expression crossing the bartender’s face.

“Hey, sweet thing. You’re a doll, but I’m gonna have to ask for your ID before I can—”

Craig slapped his driver‘s license on the counter. “Here you go.”

Examining Craig’s proof of age, he eyeballed Craig once again. “Damn, baby. You may be legal, but you look like jail bait.”

Craig winced. People commented on his youthful appearance all the time, but he didn’t like it. “Dewar’s and Coke please.”

9

D.H. Starr

Meant For Each Other

He winked and poured his drink, sliding the glass across the table. “Name’s Charlie. Someone as cute as you gets to call me by my first name. On the house, doll face.”

Craig smiled and thanked Charlie. He’d never been called so many nicknames in rapid succession since, well, ever.

He sipped his drink, looking around the room to take in the patronage and get a sense of the place. The bar was open and well-lit. Not one of those dark places that used dim lighting to obliterate any real possibility of seeing what people actually looked like.

This place was a social bar, not a pick-up joint. Craig made a mental note that he liked this place.

As he surveyed the room, Craig caught movement to his left. He glanced over, struck by the sight of a tall, well built, and devastatingly handsome man.

Cropped dark brown hair framed strong facial features; sharp jaw line, high cheekbones, narrow nose. His skin bronzed, appearing smooth and silky. He wore a blue button down polo-shirt and navy suit pants. The index finger of his left hand was hooked through the loop in the collar of the matching jacket, casually slung over his shoulder. “Robert Howell,” he said, a wide grin spreading across his face revealing perfectly straight, white teeth.

Craig smiled back extending his trembling hand as his heart beat recklessly behind his ribs. “Craig Harper. Nice to meet you.”

Robert took his hand. He had a firm grip which exuded confidence. “I haven’t seen you around here. Are you new to the neighborhood or to the city?”

“Both,” Craig answered honestly.

“Welcome. Glad you chose to come here tonight. Where are you from?” Robert’s voice was deep and masculine.

“Just outside Boston. I grew up in a town called Newton.” Craig felt ridiculous revealing such trivial information about himself, but he was inexperienced in the art of small talk. “How about you?”

“I’ve lived here for three years. Moved here from Michigan. Absolutely adore this city.” Robert smiled and Craig found himself staring at his perfect teeth once again. He gave Robert a once-over, inspecting his elegant but masculine neck which gave way to broad shoulders. His body tapered sharply from his shoulders to his trim waist. His slacks hugged him in just the right places, hinting at a generous bulge behind the zipper. Craig’s cock twitched and he quickly returned his gaze to Robert’s face.

They spent the rest of the evening talking. Robert had begun as an investment banker at Goldman Sachs, excited to be on the front lines of the stock market. He had been fascinated by Craig’s entrepreneurship, starting a business with his college friends.

What had begun as sheer physical attraction had shifted to appreciation for the passion Robert displayed towards his work. To meet someone who tapped at a part of him which had lain dormant for so long sparked excitement in him. Hope that maybe 10

D.H. Starr

Meant For Each Other

he could find someone else he could respect and love. Maybe Jeremy hadn’t been his only chance at happiness.

The weeks that passed were exciting for Craig as he got to know Robert better. He found Robert’s self-assured manner appealing and his feelings quickly moved from friendship to a desire for something more. After a month of dating, they became a committed couple. Craig had held onto his loft for the whole year of his lease, but when the artist offered him a second year, he opted to accept Robert’s invitation to move in with him.

They had been experimental and devoted in bed during the earlier years of their relationship. Robert’s libido could rival a teenager’s. They spent hours wrapped in each other’s arms, finding new ways to bring pleasure to one another, generating the kind of sweaty heat that would make porn stars blush. He hadn’t been terribly experienced when they first got together, but Robert had been patient with him. Craig figured out quickly what to do to turn Robert into a spluttering mess…the good kind.

Craig had felt like the luckiest man in the world. He’d found an intelligent man who cared about his career and was hot as all fucking hell. He’d allowed Robert past his guard. All other relationships had failed because they never measured up to his first kiss and the feelings he had shared with his best friend growing up.

* * * * *

Craig sighed, snapping back to the present. He missed the early years of their relationship when things had been vibrant and new. He missed the excitement of listening to Robert talk about the trends in the stock market and celebrating with him when his predictions on which companies would do well and which would fail turned out to be accurate. The idealism that Robert exuded matched Craig’s passion for his own work. Robert believed his job provided secure futures for his clients and prided himself on making individual portfolios blossom into sizable nest eggs. He worked because he believed in what he did and Craig found the trait irresistible. Those days were gone. They had been for two years now, ever since Robert had been promoted to floor manager.

No longer responsible for the portfolios he had been so successful at managing, he became a bit meaner, complaining about the idiocy of the kids he managed who couldn’t tell their asses from their heads. He focused increasingly on the size of his own bank account and the material demonstration of his financial success. As the passion leaked out of his love for his job, a fissure in the passion they shared as a couple seemed to grow as well. He cared more about being seen than being together.

The distance between them had grown to such a degree that Craig took to spending more time at work; being at home wasn’t relaxing and didn’t make him happy. He would never tell his co-workers the real reason he spent so much time at work. Craig still believed in loyalty, despite his strained relationship. He needed to protect Robert’s image in the eyes of his friends and portray him in a positive light.

11

D.H. Starr

Meant For Each Other

Deep in thought he hadn’t been paying attention and was surprised to find he had turned onto his street. He walked up the four flights to their penthouse apartment, dropped his bag and jacket in a heap by the door, and crossed the room to Robert, giving him a peck on the cheek. Robert nodded and continued leafing through the papers in front of him. Craig poured himself a glass of wine and lay on the couch, picking up his book.

Strong hands covered his shoulders and began to knead them. Craig looked up.

When had Robert come over? Not that it mattered. He enjoyed the impromptu massage.

Slowly, Robert worked at his shoulders, kneading the muscles like dough. Craig couldn’t remember the last time Robert had given him a massage. He’d done this sort of thing often when they first started dating. This was exactly what Craig missed in their relationship; a simple act like a backrub, no expectation for sex, just nurturing closeness.

Nostalgia and hope filled Craig’s mind. He leaned his head back to peer into Robert’s eyes, but did not meet the expression he expected. Instead of affection, Robert’s lust-filled eyes stared down at him. Before Craig could sit up, Robert’s hands slid down his chest and stomach, stopping over his groin. “Robert, what are you doing?” He covered Robert’s hands with his, but Robert’s fingers yanked open his belt.

“What do you think I’m doing?” He reached into Craig’s pants and closed his hand over Craig’s cock. “Hey, didn’t my massage turn you on?”

“Well, it was relaxing.” Craig’s tension returned, his hope for a romantic moment shit on yet again. He wanted to push Robert’s hands away but wanted another fight even less, so he lifted his hands away and sighed.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll relax you.” Robert snaked his way around the couch and knelt by Craig’s midsection, pushed underneath the elastic of his briefs and wrapped a warm hand around his cock, twisting his hand as he slid it up and down, creating exhilarating friction. Craig hardened under Robert’s touch, despite his disappointment.

“Mmm, you like that don’t you?” Robert’s voice purred in his ear.

Craig tried to sit up, but Robert pushed him back down, working his cock with greater vigor, using the precum to slick his shaft. “Robert, couldn’t we…uhhh.” Robert ran his finger tip along the delicate skin under his cock head sending shivers up Craig’s spine. “Maybe we could talk?”

“What for?” Robert yanked Craig’s pants down to his knees then dove onto Craig’s cock, swallowing the whole thing in one motion before Craig could protest. Craig gasped as the hot wetness of Robert’s mouth engulfed him. He tilted his head backwards while arching his hips upwards into Robert’s mouth. He’s too good at this.