A lot has happened to me since I hooked up with Greg. Now I can hardly blame him for all that's happened–shingles, my brother, and my broken arm weren't exactly his fault–I'm just pointing the amazing string of happenings that have struck since moving into 221B. Some people might have taken that as a sign and got the hell out of Dodge while the getting was good. Not me. Greg was here to give me a shoulder to lean on when times were tough, and I needed that more than I ever thought I would. I couldn't get that in a cold, lonely hotel room and wasn't about to try again.
I caught only a glimpse of him here and there over the rest of the day, and by the time I was ready to pack it in and call it a night it was nearly seven o'clock. Greg had already left and it wasn't to go to rehab. So it was hardly a huge a surprise when I pulled up to the apartment and found his motorcycle parked in its usual spot. The faint tinkling of piano music drifted onto the sidewalk. Okay, so he was safe at home, relaxing with one of his few positive outlets. Things could be a hell of a lot worse. If I go in there and bring up the whole rehab thing, he'll just accuse me of trying to badger him to death and brood about it for the rest of the night. Then he won't check into rehab at all just to piss me off. Well then, I'll just have to remind him about keeping his word in a completely different way.
He looked up and smiled as I walked in, the stream of notes continued without a break. The music was very nice and I didn't want him to stop for the moment. I smiled back and walked up to the piano.
"Any requests?" he asked.
"No. That's just fine," I said. "Keep playing."
The music continued, his fingers flying over the black and white keys, hitting every right note and then some. I stood and listened for minute, appreciating the talent of my friend. Greg appeared absorbed with the piano and paid no attention to me, so I took the opportunity to slip from my spot and walk around behind him. I felt him tense up a bit as I put my hands on his shoulders. He didn't miss a note and continued playing as I began to massage his neck and back. The tension in him slowly drained away.
"Miss me today, Jimmy?" Greg asked without turning around.
"Sure," I answered, then threaded my fingers through a quick swipe of his hair to drive my point home. "It was tough eating my lunch today and not having anyone there to steal my chips."
"Too bad saving lives interferes with my chip stealing duties. I'll try to do better tomorrow."
"Why don't I just give you my entire lunch right now and save myself the trouble."
Soft laughter drifted over the piano notes. "Put some extra mayo on the sandwich, please."
"I'll try to remember that. What kind of chips do you want?" I kneaded my thumbs into his shoulders, the tightness there unravelling.
"Any kind is fine with me." He played for another minute before asking, "What's with the massage therapy?"
"Don't you like it?"
"If I didn't, you and my cane would be intimately acquainted right now. So what's with the massage?"
"I missed you today."
"You didn't miss me that much. I didn't disappear for three weeks, Jimmy. Something is turning the hamster wheel inside your head. What is it?"
"I decided to do you a favor, that's all."
"Hmph ...you're so full of it. Lying isn't the best way to get on my good side. Why don't you tell me what's really on your mind?"
"I'm not going to tell you."
"Suit yourself." The piano playing continued without interruption.
Fine. I would suit myself. I leaned in, making sure he could feel my breath on his neck. "I'm going to show you what's on my mind," I whispered hoarsely, and relished the few sour notes that produced as soon as his brain processed those words and their meaning. He picked right back up as if nothing had happened, the notes flowing effortlessly again.
I stood over him and loosened my tie. He didn't look in my direction, just stared at the eighty-eight keys, pretending that nobody else was there. But he knew I was there, all right. He knew I was watching his every move, my eyes were burning a hole in his back. I was close enough to hear his breath catch in his throat. He tried, and failed, to disguise it as a cough.
"Greg?" I said, pulling off the green and black striped tie.
No answer. Just more classical music from the piano.
"Greg?"
Still no answer.
I stepped a little to the side and saw that damn smirk on his face. It disappeared the moment I wrapped the tie around his throat.
I wasn't hurting him, there was enough breathing room between the tie and his neck for both of us. But it certainly let him know that it was his turn to pay some attention to me. His hands froze above the piano keys. The music stopped as if the power had gone out.
"Greg?"
"Yes?" he finally answered, his voice barely audible.
"Would you stand up, please?"
The cover went down over the piano keys, then he pushed the bench back and stood up carefully, like I was to turn the tie into a garrote if he moved too fast. The expression on his face was priceless. He was stunned, surprised, and so incredibly turned-on.
Enough with giving him directions. I tugged gently on the tie and turned him around. He opened his mouth to say something, but I had to go and crash my mouth onto his and spoil it. Whatever he had to say was forgotten for the time being. That was fine with me. By then I was so far gone that I was only dimly aware that his arms were around my back, clutching handfuls of my shirt for dear life. Faint whimpers from both of us, the sound of pure want and need and hunger. Soon there was nothing left except for him and me; the feeling was rushed to the point that it was dizzying. We were panting and moaning.
I broke away, feeling light-headed.
I looked into his eyes and nearly fell over. All the pain, hurt, vulnerability, lust, fear, longing of the last few weeks was pooled right there in his blue eyes. I saw it all, and he knew that I saw it. And he didn't care. Because he knew that nothing would go beyond the walls of this apartment.
The tie slid off his neck and fluttered to the floor. Greg didn't blink.
"Show me what else is on your mind," he said.