Author's Note: This chapter and the two which immediately follow (10, 11, and 12) are meant to be read and considered as one chapter. They were originally written as one chapter, but, due to its length, I divided it into three separate installments.
This began as a collaborative work, but the co-author has since discontinued work on this piece. The characters will be markedly different than they were previously as this project is now mine alone.
The collaborative work had been four chapters in length, but I have deleted all but the first chapter (as that was my work alone). The work henceforth will be mine. Feedback will be appreciated.
Thank you.
The author claims no ownership to the characters, settings, or events from the television series Glee.
Approximate words this chapter: 10,000
Gyrate 'til you had your fill
Just like a pneumatic drill
Don't let it go down the drain
You better hop on the cosmic wagontrain!
Woooooooooo!
Cosmic! Cosmic!
Dave parked his car on the street several houses away from his apartment. He heard the music and wondered from which house it was coming. The source seemed to be nearby, and he was almost certain that he'd heard the music before he made the final turn onto his street.
I was havin' this out of body experience, saw these cosmic beings
Everywhere I went up there, they were shakin' their cosmic things
Like someone gave ya a wild goose
Or a freight train with a loose Caboose
You better shake your
HONEYBUNS!
Shake your honey-buns!
He locked his car after retrieving his gym bag and briefcase. The street was usually quiet but, with the loud music, he assumed that somebody was having a party: odd for so early on a Thursday evening, and it was not yet six o'clock. He knew the song: one of the girls, maybe Chelsea or Meghan, had put it on a mix CD which she'd given to him and Scoop, part of a collection of girl-rock party songs. As he neared his apartment, the sound grew louder, in fact, the sound seemed to be coming from his own apartment.
Shake it till the butter melts, shake it till the butter melts
Shake that cosmic thing, shake that thing, shake it, shake it, oh yeah!
Shake that thing all night long, shake it man you can't go wrong
Don't let it rest on the president's desk
Rock the house!
In the five days since the Saturday that John moved in, Dave hadn't seen much of John, excepting the Sunday after the move-in. Due to opposing sleep-schedules, they had resigned themselves to their separate bedrooms as had been the plan when the move-in was proposed. By the time John would return in the mornings from his late-night editing sessions, Dave had already departed for work; by the time Dave returned home, approximately this present time every day, John was busy getting ready to catch the bus for the film center or sometimes had already left the apartment.
Cosmic! Wooooo! Cosmic!
Cosmic! Wooooo! Cosmic!
Dave unlocked the door and entered the apartment finding the sound to be coming from the centrally-located stereo in the living room. The furniture had been concentrated to one side of the room, and newspaper had been spread across the empty floor-space. On the newspaper were several inflated beach balls of varying sizes which had been painted (recently, Dave assumed) with stark decorations: most were in loud colors, a few were in harsh black-and-white with zig-zag and geometric patterns.
I don't need no earthquake, don't need no tidal wave
'til night falls and day breaks, gonna shake shake shake shake shake shake shake!
As if the loudness of the music and the room's shifted furniture weren't disorienting enough, John emerged, bounding, from the far bedroom to the beat of the song holding two more wildly-embellished beach balls, tossing and catching them lightly on his paint-smeared fingertips.
Cosmic! Cosmic! Wooooo! Cosmic!
Cosmic...THANG! Wooooo! Cosmic...THANG! Wooooo!
"Hey! You're home!" John shouted over the stereo, wearing a paint-smeared T-shirt, running shorts, and a pair of socks.
"Uh, yeah!" Dave barked, grinning and surveying the state of the living room as he tossed his gym bag and briefcase over the occupied floor-space to land softly on the couch. "I guess you've been painting beach balls for that job you mentioned?"
"Hells yeah!" John yelled as he laid the two freshly-painted beach balls onto the newspaper and scooped-up a medium-sized one which was inflated but not yet decorated.
"Think fast!"
Cosmic!
Shake that thing! SHAKE THAT THING! Wooooo! YEAH!
Dave raised his head as John tossed the beach-ball into the air and slapped it with his palm as if serving a volleyball in Dave's direction. Dave grinned, almost childlike and slapped it back in John's direction.
"So, like, you like loud music while you do artwork and stuff?"
"Sometimes I like to dance around a little while I'm being physically creative," John answered, using both hands to knock the ball back toward Dave. "Good song to dance to, definitely."
Like someone gave you a wild goose
Or a freight train with a loose Caboose
You better shake your HONEYBUNS!
Shake those honey-buns!
Shake that thing all night long, shake it man, you can't go wrong
Rock the house, rock the house!
Dave laughed aloud as he slapped the ball, returning it in John's direction.
"Are we listening to one of my mix CDs?"
"Yeah, well, it was in a plain case over on the CD rack by the TV. It said 'Girl Rock Party' on it and nothing else. Sounded promising."
John reached out to slap the ball back to Dave, but his contact was imprecise causing the ball to spin off-target toward the center of the room. Dave's jaw dropped in mock-disappointment at the ball being out-of-reach, but John closed the distance between the two of them, lifting his arms and gyrating closer, indifferent to the location of the ball. Dave smiled, silly, reddening slightly in his face.
I'll give you a genuine faux pearl ring
If you get on up and shake your... HONEYBUNS!
Shake your honey-BUNS!
"Dance with me, Dave!"
Dave shook his head and laughed, almost embarrassed as John reached for his hands, engaging them and pulling him into a dance-like motion.
"I don't dance. Most I do is kinda bounce to the music."
The song faded and the next one began, markedly harder-edged sounding with loud guitars and tough female-vocals. John adapted, dropping his hands from Dave's and moving to the music more aggressively.
I got nasty habits, I take tea at three
And the meat I eat for dinner must have been hung up for a week
My best friend, she shoots water rats and feeds them to her geese
Don' cha think there's a place for you in between the sheets?
"Dave! Dance with me!"
Dave grinned, shaking his head as his face became redder.
"I-I don't dance. I told you that!"
"If you don't wanna dance, then let's wrestle!"
Come on now, honey
Don' cha wanna live with me?
Come on now, honey
Don' cha wanna live with me?
"What?" Dave's face went wide-eyes with bemused shock.
"You heard me!" John continued to dance around Dave, but had added some playfully aggressive mock-punches to his movements.
"You, you wanna wrestle me?"
There's a score of harebrained children locked up in the nursery
They got earphone heads they got dirty necks they're so twentieth century
They queue up for the bathroom 'round about seven-thirty-five
Don't you think it needs a man's touch to make it come alive?
"Yeah, man, you told me you and Scoop used to wrestle around. I gotta make sure you stay in shape for that."
"You're crazy," Dave commented, smirking, humored but taken aback at the suggestion.
"Nah, I'm having fun. Tonight is my first night off since I moved in. For me, this is my weekend. Kick off your shoes, take off your nice shirt and your khakis, and wrestle me, dammit!"
You'd look good
Pram-pushing down the high street
Come on now, honey
Don' cha wanna live with me?
Dave shook his head, grinning, as he reached downward, untying his shoes one at a time and knocking them from his feet. He then unbuttoned his casual dress-shirt, removed it, and flung it to the couch; he finished by unbuttoning his khaki pants, dropping them, and tossing them aside.
The two faced each other for a moment. Dave, dressed only in grey boxer-briefs, a white undershirt, and black socks, wrinkled his brow comically and spoke.
"Do you even know how to wrestle?"
With that question, John launched himself at Dave, ducking his head down and making contact, wrapping his arm roughly around Dave's torso, his head under Dave's left armpit.
The servants they're so helpful dear, the cook she is a whore
The butler has a place for her behind the pantry door
The maid, she's French, she's got no sense, she's from the crazy horse
And when she strips, the chauffeur flips, the footman's eyes get crossed
The action caught Dave off-guard; he dropped back a few steps, almost losing his balance.
"No," John replied, delayed. "I really never wrestled. Thought it might be fun though."
"Coulda fooled me," Dave spoke, stunned but still laughing, as he wrapped his left arm around John's back, trying to turn him around. John actually turned himself around of his own volition, reaching backward to Dave's trunk and allowing Dave's arms to encircle him.
Don' cha think there's a place for us
Right across the street
Don' cha think there's a place for you
In between the sheets?
Dave's crotch made contact with John's butt as Dave grabbed John tight around his chest and lifted him momentarily, just enough to land him face-down on the carpeted floor as gently as he could and landing on top of him, prepared to pin him, but John turned himself around, sat upright and ducked again under Dave's arm, pushing his shoulder in to Dave's chest.
"This is really unorthodox, but you're actually doing okay," Dave admitted as pushed John back toward the floor
"Dude, I have no idea what I'm doing."
John pushed back against Dave again, even as he dropped back to the carpet.
Don' cha think there's a place for us
Right across the street
Don' cha think there's a place for you
In between the sheets?
Dave straddled himself over John, a more solid position as John grinned, almost triumphantly.
"You're not even trying," Dave nearly yelled with a wide, crooked smile.
Don' cha think there's a place for you?
C'mon live with me
John raised his eyebrows for a moment.
"Maybe I want you to pin me. Maybe I can feel you gettin' chubby in your boxer-briefs."
Don' cha think there's a place for you?
C'mon live with me
Dave's breathing slowed and leveled as a dazed smile formed on his face. John was nearby, within arm's reach, appearing as spent as Dave did, if not exactly as winded. The room was warm, heated by the angle of the early-evening sunlight.
"Well, that's the first time I ever had sex in broad daylight on the living room floor," Dave admitted.
"Me too, but, like, there's a first time for everything," John answered, expanding the original thought.
Dave's eyes flashed golden in the light as he swivelled his head to face John.
"Don't feel like being close right now?"
John lifted himself onto, first, his elbows, then his hands, and moved closer to Dave, not quite upon him, but reaching and grasping his hand.
"It's hot, John observed, "we're sweaty."
"Yeah, that's true."
"Besides, I've been up for three hours, and I haven't eaten anything yet."
"Oh man, you must be hungry," Dave said, playfully squeezing John's hand in his. "Reminds me, I'm freaking starved."
"We should see what there is to eat then."
"You're probably gonna want breakfast, not having eaten yet."
John raised and shook his head, pulling his mouth to one side.
"Nah. It's late enough. I could eat anything."
John moved himself closer to Dave, pulling both of their hands close to his chest and settling beside him.
"I changed my mind," John grinned to himself as he whispered, red-faced, "maybe I do want to be close."
"It's cool. I like it."
"Just for a little while before we eat."
The two were silent for a moment before John spoke again.
"How was your work today?"
"It was good," Dave offered. "I'm liking it. I can see you were busy this afternoon yourself. How was your painting?"
John chuckled aloud. "Good. I like doing stuff like that."
"Cool. So... were you planning on ambushing me like that when I walked through the door?"
John and Dave both laughed, quiet.
"Not really. You looked sexy when in your work clothes. And a little sweaty from being out in the hot weather. And, yeah, the confusion on your face when you walked in was priceless."
John lifted himself from the floor and moved, stopping as his face hovered over Dave's. Their eyes for a moment before John dropped his gaze to Dave's chest, lifting his hand to brush his fingertips on the spray of dark body hair. As he lifted his eyes again to meet Dave's, Dave raised his arm, firmly palming the back of John's neck and pulling him downward until their lips met.
Both parties smiled upon contact: John from surprise and Dave betraying a smug confidence. As they parted, each opened their eyes and captured the other's briefly before John settled against Dave, the side of his face resting against the side of Dave's sweaty trunk.
"It's quiet," Dave intoned, a gritty whisper.
"Yeah, I think the CD ended about fifteen minutes ago."
"I didn't notice until just now. I realized that all I was hearing was our breathing."
"Yeah. I feels kinda great. I don't care how hungry I am, I'm just gonna lay here for a while and enjoy this."
"You mean how hungry we both are?" Dave rasped, slightly louder causing himself and John to laugh aloud for a moment.
"So, like, we've barely seen each other since Sunday," Dave began, calmed again but smiling, faint.
John snickered. "Welcome to my life: weird sleep patterns, vampire hours..."
"Coming home to a temporarily-shuffled furniture arrangement strewn with pieces of an art project and a hopped-up guy bent on having me wrestle him down to floor..."
"Bent on having you fuck him silly."
Dave laughed, loud again.
"You said it, I didn't."
"Damn right, I said it," John feigned seriousness.
"So, you're silly right now?"
"Nah, not silly," John said, quieter through a slight smile, "Just kinda, aaahhhh."
"So you didn't get what you were bent on having?"
Both snickered aloud, nearly childish.
"Uh, I'm definitely happy with how things played out," John replied after a moment.
"I definitely had a good time with it."
"Any plans for the weekend upcoming?"
"Nothing yet except for Sunday. Basketball with Scoop and the band guys and then hanging out at the Tap Room after to give the band a send-off before they leave for a month."
"They're not doing a farewell show?"
"Nah. They'll have a big return show when they come back, I think. They'll only be gone a month. You work later that night?"
"I don't have to be back at work until Monday morning," John volunteered, indifferent-sounding.
"Then you're gonna play basketball with us and hang out afterward, right?"
"Yeah, I guess I could do that," John affected discomfort.
"Geeze, don't act like it's so painful. The guys like you. You're welcome to hang."
"Yeah, I know. Just being my melodramatic self. Old habits die hard."
Dave snickered. "So, what? You're a former drama-queen?"
"Just a slight one at this point. Almost a distant memory."
"What's with the Monday morning work thing? You usually have to be out of there in the AM."
"Well, they actually have me running through the basics of the editing software and techniques with some of the students, and then I'll probably use that opportunity to do some work on my next editing job while I'm kinda supervising them and fielding their questions."
"Oh, that's cool. Like an informal instructor?"
"Something like that," John answered. "It's actually handy for the actual instructor to have me around, and it's handy for me that I can get some of my own work done at the same time."
"Very cool," Dave opined. "Any chance of it turning into an actual teaching job for you at any point?"
John paused before answering slowly.
"Y'know, I didn't really think about that, but I should bring it up. Might be good for all parties involved."
"Yeah. Certainly be good experience for you to have under your belt."
John shifted, raising himself to kiss Dave again before sitting upright.
"My hunger is finally getting the better of me. I think I'm gonna make some pancakes."
"Pancakes for dinner?" Dave raised his eyebrows in a skeptical smile.
"Well, it's breakfast for me, and, hey, why not pancakes for dinner?"
"So, was that the last basketball game of the summer, or at least the last one until the band gets back from the tour?" John asked as Dave put the car in gear, setting it in motion.
"Nah," Dave replied, almost bored-sounding. "Buke and Jack will still be around, maybe a few other guys too. And a couple of the girls show up and play sometimes. We can have games with four or six of us as opposed to the ten or twelve we have when Scoop and the band guys are around."
Dave turned to see John pulling the towel from around his neck to blot sweat from his forehead.
"Did you have fun?"
"Yeah," John chuckled his reply. "Sweaty but that's expected. I'm glad some of the other guys are as, like, bad as I am at the game."
"You're not bad," Dave spoke through a smirk, "and we only really play for fun anyway so nobody really cares as long as everyone has a good time."
"Tony's pretty good."
"Tony is the best out of us," Dave agreed, nodding. "I think drummers gotta be pretty athletic. Watch him play drums sometime."
"I'll have to remember that for next time I see them play. Which bar are we meeting them at?"
"The Tap Room."
"Ah," John nodded, remembering the name from the earlier discussion. "Never been there."
"It's their favorite place for hanging out if there's not a band event for them to attend. All the other band people from around the city tend to hang out there, it seems, unless there's a show going on."
"Doesn't that get kinda boring for you, you not being in a band?"
"No, because that's not all they talk about or care about," Dave answered. "Sometimes I think that even they get tired of talking shop so they talk about their girlfriends or movies or school or just stuff that happened during the week. Or sports. Plus, not all of the guys are in bands."
John nodded before speaking again, changing the subject.
"Did you talk to your dad today?"
"Yep," Dave answered, bright. "Just about every Sunday afternoon. Even if we don't have much to say to each other, I just like hearing from him."
John nodded again, smiling.
Dave made one final turn onto the block where the Tap Room was located, finding parking around the corner from the bar's facade. Dave and John stepped out of the car into the warm, early-evening light. Dave locked the car as the two walked to the sidewalk and rounded the corner. As they approached the front of the bar, they could see Scoop and Katie standing near the entrance beside Tony and Meghan, the four of them smiling and talking."
"Hey, are we the last to get here?" Dave asked, loud, upon his arrival.
"I think most everyone else is inside, yeah," Scoop answered, awkward but jovial, jerking his head toward the bar's entryway.
"Tony, Meghan," Dave nodded greetings as he walked, "Katie, nice to see you, it's been a while."
Dave and John stopped by the two couples as John, smiling, addressed the others as well.
"Glad you could come out, John," Tony smiled as he shook John's hand in greeting.
"Yeah, good game, great having you," Scoop added. "You are always welcome to play basketball with us."
"Nobody invited me to play basketball," Katie voiced, loud, with mock irritation on her face aimed at Scoop.
John shook his head and giggled as Dave's eyes widened along with his lopsided grin. Scoop became visibly alarmed, face shifting to a nervous smile.
"Uh, I didn't think it'd be your thing, Katie."
"I've never seen Katie play basketball," John offered, "but she's pushed me around a few times, she's definitely no slouch."
Katie and Scoop turned toward each other, their expressions smug and sheepish respectively.
"Gotcha," Scoop added, blunt but contrite. "My bad, Katie is invited to play anytime."
Dave and John passed through the threshold into the bar. It was sparsely populated, but they saw some of their friends near the back of the room: Zack and Robbie, Deena with her husband Earl, Ronk with Shelly, and, toward the farthest end of the bar, Jack, Buke, and a few others.
"Hey, everyone, girls and guys," Dave spoke above the collective noise drawing attention and smiles from the gathering. "You've all met John, right?"
A flurry of polite hails and handshakes met both John and Dave for a minute until a voice of discord was heard over the greetings.
"Aw, who the fuck invited the fag loser?"
Dave's face sobered as he rose his head to see Chuck emerge from the far end of the bar.
"Chuck, man, that's not cool," Jack spoke, mumbled actually, into Chuck's ear as he stepped in Dave's direction.
"No, what's not cool is that you guys are alright with this degenerate perv," Chuck spouted as he pushed through the small group to face Dave directly.
"Chuck, dude, this really isn't an appropriate time for this," Dave addressed him, serious and low.
Chuck glanced downward to Dave's side, toward John."
"This your boyfriend?" he spat, as if he found the words themselves particularly distasteful.
Dave's forehead creased, a slight scowl.
"Y'know, that's none of your business, Chuck."
"I think it's my business if you come in here and try to turn our favorite hangout into a fag-bar."
With that, Chuck lunged toward Dave, hands forward as if intending to shove him back. Dave stepped to one side causing Chuck to lose his footing and stumble into the table at a vacant booth along the wall.
Chuck righted himself to face Dave again, swinging his arms wildly in Dave's direction. Dave, holding his hands before himself in a defensive gesture, was too quick for Chuck to make contact; that didn't stop Chuck from making further mad swipes with this fists in Dave's direction, punctuated with hostile words and sounds.
The rest of the crowd began to protest: Ronk was facing Chuck, trying to contain Chuck's arms while Jack had Chuck by his shoulders, pulling him back while voicing to a stunned Buke, "I told you it was not a good idea to invite him!"
By this time, the bar's bouncer took notice, and he and one of the bartenders were pushing into the crowd. They eyed Dave briefly, noting his defensive posture and the distance he was keeping, then turned their attention to the unfocused-but-combative Chuck, the bouncer seizing his arms from behind and the bartender yelling.
"What's all the commotion about?"
"I was hanging out with my friends and this guy started some shit with me," Chuck spewed from the side of his mouth, his eyes trained and head nodding in Dave's direction.
"Uh-uh," Zack spoke as Robbie and Ronk shook their heads in agreement with Zack's negation. "Chuck started everything, unprovoked. He just came out charging and yelling at our friend for no reason."
"I have a fuckin' reason," Chuck protested, loud and sloppy.
"Awwright, you're outta here," the bartender addressed Chuck, pointed, as he stepped to the emergency exit of the bar and kicked the door open, and the larger, shaven-headed bouncer neatly ejected Chuck into the alley behind the building.
Scoop, Katie, Tony, and Meghan had just filtered into the back area of the bar and witnessed the last flurry of commotion.
"What just happened?" Scoop asked, confused but slightly pointed at Robbie, Zack, and the others.
"Chuck was here and started trouble with Dave," Zack assessed.
"What was Chuck doing here?" Scoop's words were more direct.
"I asked him here," Buke admitted, flustered. "I thought he'd wanna see everyone before you left for the tour and stuff."
"Aw, man," Scoop scowled and shook his head.
"I gotta get some air," Dave mumbled to John as he stepped toward the front entryway.
John jumped into action and followed. "I'm comin' with you.
Dave was walking quickly, almost a jog, as he met the sidewalk and darkening sky outside. John followed him, never more than an arm's length behind, as the two walked around the corner to Dave's car and seated themselves in the front seats.
Dave sat silent for a while, stoic-faced and audible breathing.
"Who was that guy?" John finally broke the silence.
"Chuck," Dave said quietly. "The band's old bass player. The reason why they almost broke up. He flipped out the same way the night I came out to all of my friends, because I came out."
Dave closed his eyes tightly and bowed his head forward, almost resting it upon the steering wheel.
"You okay, Dave?" John's words were quiet and comforting.
"Dude," Dave's voice was shaky. "I saved that guy from getting his ass kicked more times than I can count. I've had good times with that whole crowd, him included. Some of my best memories of the last three years are with those people."
Dave paused. Tears were visible and spilling from his eyes as he opened them, raising his head.
"How the fuck can he hate me that much?"
"I don't know, man." John raised his left arm, resting his hand lightly on Dave's shoulder. "Some people, y'know, they just hate. They don't need a good reason. Or even a real reason."
Dave sniffed, nodding.
"I just need a minute to get my head together here."
"You gonna go back in there?"
"I don't know," Dave mumbled, low, doubtful.
"Dave, man, you're loved. Those people love you. I can see that, and I can see that they don't give a damn about what that Chuck idiot says or does."
Dave lifted his head, expression uncertain but benign, a near-smile, eyes red but not longer watering.
John turned his head noticing movement on the sidewalk in the periphery of his vision.
"Here comes Scoop," John voiced, turning his attention back to Dave.
Dave peeked over his shoulder and lowered his window as Scoop approached.
"Hey, Dave," Scoop spoke, appealing, lowering himself to the level of the car door. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Dave nodded, newly composed. "I just needed to cool off after that."
"You were pretty cool in there," Scoop jerked his head toward the building, smug grin on his face. "All you had to do was stand there and let Chuck make an ass out of himself."
"Yeah, but I needed to cool off in here," Dave pointed to his head as he snickered and returned Scoop's grin.
"Gotcha. You coming back in? Everybody wants you to hang out, and Buke is really bummed because he's the one who asked Chuck to come out thinking everyone was gonna be best friends again."
Dave shook his head as he raised the car window and opened the door.
"I think Buke should maybe cut back on the weed consumption and maybe he'd realize that not everybody is all peace and love and friends all the time."
"Yeah, true," Scoop seconded.
John exited the passenger side of the car and the three young men returned to their friends inside the bar.
"Dave, dude," Buke was stationed at the bar's entrance behind the bouncer who had ejected Chuck just minutes prior.
"Dave, man, I'm sorry, I had no idea Chuck was gonna do that."
"It's cool, Buke, really. I know you wouldn't have asked him here if you thought he was gonna act like that."
"I just figured maybe he'd come to his senses after a couple of months or something."
Dave gave Buke a blank expression and a shrug. "You were just hoping we'd all be friends. Sometimes you just can't have that."
"I know, Dave," Buke nodded, reaching his hand to Dave's shoulder and throwing a glance to John's face as they advanced toward the bar. "I should have known that was expecting too much out of Chuck."
Dave laughed and a faint smile formed on John's face.
"Hey, let me get beers for you and John," Buke offered.
"You don't hafta twist my arm." Dave grinned and laughed. "After that lovely reception from Chuck, I could use one. You want a beer, John?"
"Yeah, definitely."
As they neared the bar, Dave noticed Chelsea sitting near two empty stools.
"Hey there!" Chelsea spoke bright with a coquettish grin and a wave.
"Hey, Chelse," Dave acknowledged, warm. "You met John yet?"
"No! Hi John!"
"John, this is Chelsea," Dave introduced.
"Nice to meet you, Chelsea," John greeted, both parties nodding and smiling.
"When did you get here?" Dave asked, "and are these seats taken?"
"No, the seats aren't taken, and I got here apparently just after my dumbass ex-boyfriend got thrown out on his ass."
Dave and John laughed in unison as they seated themselves on the vacant seats next to Chelsea.
"Y'know, If I'd been here when he pulled that shit, I'd have kicked his ass myself."
"I have no doubt," Dave grinned back at Chelsea. "I saw you rough him up that night at the apartment."
"That was nothing," Chelsea bragged in a low, attitudinal tone. "I really gave it to him when we got home. I made it so hostile for him that he had to crash with Robbie that night."
"He still with Emily?"
"Oh, no," Chelsea answered. "Instead of their collective insanity cancelling the other's out, they magnified and clashed. Apparently he called her 'his little crackpot' regularly as a term of endearment. He slipped-up one night and called her 'his little crackpipe' and she flipped out on him, kicked him out, and never forgave him."
"Wow. Touchy. Neurotic." Dave paled, affected.
"Beers, guys!" Buke returned, amicably interrupting the conversation and placing bottles in front of Dave and John.
Dave and John both took deep, quenching drinks, exhaling loudly almost in unison upon swallowing, and snickering at their microcosm of synchronicity. John turned his head toward David and spoke quietly.
"I think I am liking this Chelsea girl a lot."
Dave bounced his head, half-nodding, half-laughing in agreement.
"Really, though, all of your friends seem pretty great."
"I appreciate that, and, yeah, I think they're awesome. We gotta hang out with your friends sometime too."
"Yeah, I don't know that I have that many really. I mean, there's Katie, but she's apparently fully-assimilated into this crowd now. And Louis. Maybe grab lunch with him sometime. Otherwise, my gaming has been put on the backburner recently with all the work I've been doing, but I still talk to Mandy fairly regularly."
"Well, then we gotta do some stuff that you're into at least. You mentioned racquetball a while back."
"I gotta screen films for the Gay and Lesbian Film Festival, if you don't mind sitting through some of them with me. I mean, it gets kinda lonely doing that myself."
"I could do that, but I gotta warn you, if they're boring, I'll end up falling asleep."
"Ha! Sometimes I nearly fall asleep myself! But, then, sometimes I'm at the film center watching this stuff on the overnight."
"Well, I couldn't do those hours on weeknights. Any other time is fair-game, though. When is the festival anyway?"
"It starts the first weekend in October and runs for nine days, but the selections need to be finalized by the first week of August when the schedule is announced at a fund-raiser thing, basically shameless promotion for the sponsors. The bigger selections have already been made, but there's about ten more selections that need to be made out of about thirty finalists."
"Thirty? You gotta watch thirty movies in a month's time? That's an average of a movie a day."
"It's really not that hard, and I'm not the only person responsible , but after a while they all start to blur together sometimes."
"Hey," Jack interrupted from behind, wrapping his hands around the shoulders of both Dave and John. "You guys feel like playing darts? You guys against me and Buke?"
Dave glanced at John who answered, hesitant but agreeable, "Sure, why not?"
As they stood from their seats, John mumbled to Dave, "I hope you're good at this because I'm really not."
"Don't stress on it," Dave answered. "I'm not great at it, but it's almost a given that Buke and Jack have been toking up. You have any idea what that does to a person's depth perception?"
John chuckled understanding as he and Dave joined Jack and Buke at the dart board.
The evening continued rowdy and friendly with the large assembly of friends. After the dart game, which, incidentally was won by Dave and John. John was actively talking, even if only in some small way, to everyone in attendance. Though Dave primarily confined himself to the immediate circle of Scoop, Tony, and Zack for the remainder of the evening, he was amused at watching John at a distance, merry and social, noticing a greater consumption of drinks than he himself had indulged, no doubt, encouraged by the friendly revelry.
It was not late, not yet ten o'clock, when the crowd began to thin. A few people had already left, citing Monday morning jobs, and even Scoop and the others from the band needed Monday to finalize their packing and arrangements for the tour for which they'd be leaving on Tuesday. As friends scattered, bidding farewells, Dave and John stood by the bar, finishing their last beers.
"You have a good time tonight?" Dave asked.
"Yeah, definitely." John's reply was minimal but hearty.
"Cool," Dave nodded. "You had a few to drink, more than me. You okay?"
John turned to Dave with a consciously-smug grin. "I had three beers and two shots over the course of a couple of hours. I'm feeling it, but I'm fine. It's not like I hafta drive or anything. What about you? You're the one who's driving."
"I'm fine," Dave replied, relaxed and confident. "This is only my second beer tonight."
"I'm glad that the thing with that Chuck guy earlier in the evening didn't mess up your night."
"It did bother me, make no mistake, but I can't think about it that much. I had a good time with my friends tonight. That's more important. I won't be seeing some of them for a month."
"That reminds me," John jumped, more animated as he noticed more of the gathering filtering toward the exit door. "I wanted to say goodbye to some of the people I talked with earlier tonight. I see that it looks like people are leaving."
"That's cool. I'm gonna go hit the restroom before we leave. You can just meet me out here or outside since it looks like everyone's heading in that direction."
John nodded an affirmative response as Dave turned and stepped to the men's restroom.
The restroom was vacant, save for Dave, and the act of relieving himself was a fairly lengthy draining (two beers and a quantity of bottled water which immediately succeeded the basketball game) followed by a thorough hand-washing. He glanced in the mirror momentarily before returning to the bar area. Neither John nor the rest of his friends were there; the crowd, he assumed, had moved outside.
He couldn't have been in the lavatory for more than three minutes, but that was apparently enough time for something to happen. The sidewalk in front of the Tap Room was void of his friends, but he heard sounds and loud voices coming from around the corner, near the area where he had parked his car.
As he walked around the corner, he could see the familiar shapes of his friends standing in a group under a streetlight as he heard shouts coming from sources he could not yet see.
"What? You think what you do is okay just because my friends don't have a problem with it?"
That sounds like Chuck, Dave thought to himself.
"Watch who you're calling your friends, you idiot."
That was definitely Tony.
"So you're picking these queers over me?"
Chuck again.
"Looks like that's the case, doesn't it? So maybe you should just get outta here."
Damn, Dave thought, that was definitely John.
Dave picked up his pace, accelerating to a fast stride. As he grew near he saw his friends gathered around a space where John and Chuck were facing each other, angry, antagonistic.
"I'll stay wherever the fuck I damn-well please!"
With that Chuck threw his right fist toward John who twisted his trunk, leaving it to graze his side; John himself balled his right hand, extended his arm, and quickly spun back, his fist making a solid connection with the side of Chuck's face. Chuck recoiled, dazed, but John advanced, throwing his forearms and elbows forward, connecting repeatedly with Chuck's chest, backing him against the building.
"Fuck, man, help me out here, guys!" Chuck called to the gathering in a high-pitched, shaken voice.
Most of the gathering merely shook their heads at the display, but no one made a move to intervene.
"You got yourself into this one, dude," Robbie spoke over the sound of John's repeated blows.
Dave pushed his way through the crowd and approached John and Chuck. Dave was somewhat amused at the sight, fighting the urge to laugh. John's face had gone blank, almost stony, mechanical, while Chuck had raised his forearms, shielding his face from the attack.
"Okay, maybe enough," Dave grasped John at the shoulders, pulling him away from Chuck's cowering form.
Chuck dropped his arms and opened his eyes, astonished to see that it was Dave who intervened. Chuck's face sneered, ungrateful wretch.
"If you came back to start trouble and ambush us when we left the bar, you got what you came for, and you should have never dragged my friend into this."
Dave's words were calm, his shadow towering over Chuck as he slowly stood back to his feet.
"Aw, fuck you," Chuck scowled, defiant, as he backed further away from the gathering but still against the wall.
Dave shook his head, nearly smiling.
"I just saved you from getting your ass kicked, and it wasn't the first time. Next time you decide to start something stupid like this with me or my friends, I will finish it, and you will get your ass kicked."
Chuck remained silent as he turned his back toward the gathering and slunk away further down the side-street, raising his left hand over his head in a middle-finger gesture.
The crowd convened, tighter, for a few minutes as John received high-fives and pats on his shoulders from the others (and a few kisses from Meghan, Chelsea, and the slightly intimidating Deena) before the group dispersed to their various vehicles.
"You alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," John added a slight laugh to his answer.
Dave started his car's ignition but stared at John for a conspicuous moment before shifting the car into gear.
"What?"
"What," Dave burst into a grin. "Don't 'what' me, that was amazing."
John's face reddened and he laughed to himself but remained otherwise quiet.
"I didn't figure you for the fighting type at all."
"I'm not," John finally admitted. "He pissed me off. I had to do something."
"Well, your form was kinda unorthodox."
John shook his head, almost grinning but flustered, "Honestly, I've never been in a fight before."
"I could kinda tell, but, you know what? You did great."
"You think so?"
"Dude," Dave laughed, "I had to pull you off of him."
John nodded, satisfied in himself as Dave continued to watch him, smiling.
"What?" John asked again, more quietly this time.
"It was kinda hot."
"What?"
"Sexy," Dave whispered, gritty.
The ride back to their apartment seemed surreally brief, existent only in a time-lapsed flash of headlights and street markings. It was a forgone conclusion that they would find themselves sharing a shower (once again, alarmingly brief to the conscious memory) and, ultimately, the space of Dave's bed.
"You were so fucking sexy tonight."
Dave breathed the words, moist, into John's ear between caressing it and the area behind it, the back of John's neck and the tops of his softly-bristled shoulders, with his lips. Occasionally John would turn his head so their lips and tongue could meet. Dave's arms were wrapped securely around John's trunk as their hands intertwined. Dave's hands curled, snug, around John's; John's were sometimes looser but occasionally produced an involuntary squeeze reacting to the impact of Dave's body upon his.
Moist, freshly-showered, they found their present posture almost immediately on Dave's bed: both resting on their shins, John's back to Dave's chest, John leaning forward giving a slight lift to his posterior, almost a compliance, an offering. For Dave's part, his urges pushed him past any previous desire to orally prepare John's ass: he wanted the quickest route to John's trembling shudder and the other reactions which he was coming to identify, the constriction and slackening, the slight shifts in position, the near weightlessness John occasionally exhibited, ultimately their motion in tandem as one.
Dave's firm, deliberate thrusts, usually hard-edged and mechanical, were smoother, less abrupt, in this position, an action which afforded John a greater ability to react, to move with Dave.
At one point, Dave leaned back, pulling John with him, and thrusting upward. John shook for a moment before accepting the depth with which Dave had marked him, becoming nearly boneless in Dave's arms, letting his head fall limp against Dave's shoulder.
"That feels so fucking amazing. Feel good to you?"
John remained speechless, creating a murmured noise of agreement and a subtle smile in response to Dave's whispered question.
Their positions continued to shift until John was face-down on his belly, Dave's arms still wrapped around him and his hands clenching Dave's tightly. They'd been moving against each other for a long time, and, although neither wanted to stop, both of them were feeling a physical point of expiration.
"Are you close?"
"Yeah, I can be."
"You need to change positions or anything?"
"Huh-uh. I just gotta let it happen."
"Anything I can do to help?"
"Just keep fucking me, Dave. I'm right on the edge."
John raised himself to meet Dave's movements more directly, his knees digging into the mattress. John began quaking beneath Dave; the sensation, the evidence that John was climaxing, sent Dave into the same action, his body slowing and driving deeper. John felt the expansion, an almost stinging warmth within him as Dave's breathing added a slight wheeze.
Dave's movements slowed and stilled. They held each other, motionless save for their respiration, for some minutes: Dave's head over John's left shoulder, resting on the surface of the pillow and John's head turned slightly to the left, his unshaven mouth slightly agape against Dave's cheek.
Finally they moved. John stirred first, his lips grazing the side of Dave's face. Dave turned to meet John's mouth with his own, ultimately lifting himself from John and settling onto his side, reaching for towels for the both of them. They blotted themselves and the bed surface then lay for a moment next to each other. John turned to Dave, smiling, moving to an upright position, before leaning over Dave.
"What do you think you're doing?" Dave asked, playful.
"Uh, I was going to kiss you before I go to my own bed."
"Uh-uh. You're sleeping here tonight."
"Wha...?"
"It makes sense. You gotta get up tomorrow morning. I gotta get up tomorrow morning. Make yourself comfortable right here."
"I didn't think of that," John regarded the revelation as a small epiphany as he smiled and surrendered to the idea, lying on his side next to Dave.
"What time do you need to be at the Film Center?"
"Around eight. Give-or-take."
"Well, I need to be at work at nine. I could drive us both downtown, park my car at the garage on Taylor street, grab a bus to King from there, and be at work with time to spare. Make the return trip in the afternoon and drive us both home."
"Um, I wouldn't want you to pay to park your car in the garage all day, um, seems a waste."
"Oh, come on," Dave scolded, jesting. "Ten bucks?"
"Ten-fifty."
"Well, if it bothers you, we can split the cost of parking, and then we'd actually be paying less than our round trip bus-fares."
John shook his head, grinning. "Yeah, you're right. Logical, makes sense, and, as always, you did the math."
"We can get something to eat before we come home. That's be kinda cool. Any place you've been wanting to check out?"
"Dave, there are about twenty places in a five-block vicinity of the Film Center that I've either been wanting to check out or eat at again."
Dave laughed. "Well, then, narrow it down to about five with a few alternates and run them by me tomorrow afternoon when we meet after work. Sound like a good plan?"
"Yeah."
John shifted himself, closer to Dave; Dave welcomed the action, reaching his arm around John.
"So," Dave began, quiet, "when are you gonna do that for me?"
"What?"
"What we just did when we got in?"
"What do you mean?"
Dave snickered, slightly embarrassed, as if trying for a tactful way of verbalizing his thoughts.
"When are you gonna top me?"
John's body went slightly rigid for a moment.
"Wait. You want me to fuck you?"
"Yeah, to put it bluntly. But...I mean, if that's not your thing or you don't want to..."
"No, no. It's not that. I mean, I can top you. I've definitely topped guys before. It's just..."
"What?"
"I guess I just assumed that you're, like, a total top or something."
"Well, I have never bottomed, and I think that's because everybody I've ever had sex with assumed that I'm a total top."
"You're not?"
"How," Dave stopped and laughed for a moment. "How do I know unless I bottom at least once?"
"Um, do you want to?"
"Would I be asking otherwise? I mean, I think about it."
"Fantasize about it?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Okay."
"So... you're cool with doing that sometime?"
John snickered his response. "Yeah, definitely. I'm just kinda surprised. But it's a good kinda surprise."
"Cool. Whenever we're both in the mood, whenever it feels like it's gonna happen..."
The two were silent for a time, comfortable in each other's touch, before John spoke again.
"Did you really think it was hot tonight when I was fighting with Chuck?"
"Hell, yeah!" Dave's voice jumped in pitch, excited. "Why do you think I jumped all over you when we got back here? I wanted to make you feel incredible. I wanted to light you up, sexy man."
John laughed, rolling his head against Dave's shoulder.
"You definitely did that."
Dave's voice lowered to a raspy whisper. "I wanted to use everything I have to show you how sexy I thought you were and to make you feel as sexy as you are."
John exhaled, loud, before speaking, almost confrontational.
"You are making this so easy, Dave."
"Huh?" Dave tone was somewhat taken aback. "What do you mean?"
"I feel like, um, you're just so easy for me to be with, okay? And I've been almost afraid to feel like that with anyone."
The two lay silent for a moment, slightly less at ease.
"Are you afraid of that with me?"
"No. And maybe that makes it worse."
"I don't want you to be afraid of me."
"I'm not."
John moved himself closer against Dave and lay silent for a moment before speaking again.
"Um, confession time again."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"What is it?" Dave asked, his voice warm and open.
"Um, I told you before that I'm really not a fighter. I'd never been in a fight before that thing tonight with Chuck."
"Uh-huh."
"See, he made you cry earlier in the night, and I hated that. I hated seeing that. That's why I threw caution and maybe better-judgement to the wind. As soon as he started swinging at me, I had to throw it right back at him. I wanted to make him hurt for making you cry."
Dave exhaled silently and felt his eyes well with tears again.
"And I didn't care if maybe I got my ass kicked in the process."
"Thank you."
Dave whispered the words, just loud enough for John to hear, as he pulled John closer to himself, swivelled his neck, and kissed John's forehead.
"So, this is the room where you do all of your editing?"
"Nah," John answered, placing two chairs side-by-side about five feet from the monitor. "This is a screening room. The monitor is, like, four times bigger than the one I edit on."
"Ah, I gotcha. Well, it's cool to see the place where you do some of your work, at least."
"And my schedule will relax a little after this week. I have three more films to screen for the festival. Two more after this one. I have all next week to watch those last two." John gestured toward one of the chairs with his hands. "Make yourself comfortable."
"It would have been cool if our schedules could have worked to do this more than just this once, though," Dave offered.
"Well, it's the last Sunday of July, and it's not like we've been bored and haven't had enough to do over the weekends between racquetball on Saturdays and doing the basketball thing on Sundays."
"Yeah, and today only opened up when Jack and Buke canceled out on the basketball thing for today."
"What are they up to anyway that they had to cancel the weekly basketball game?"
"Record convention. They're vinyl-hounds."
"Ah, well, that's good for me. Lets me check one more requirement off of my list."
"And it's cool that I got to watch at least one of these movies with you and get the chance to check out where you work. Hell, we haven't done much of anything together for the past few weeks except racquetball and basketball because of how your schedule has been."
"That's true too. I'm just glad that I was able to fit most of the film-festival entries in during my weekday schedule. I'd have hated for it to turn into a crunch-time thing. But once this is over, maybe I can go running with you a couple of times a week."
"You'd do that?" Dave asked, surprised that John mentioned it.
"I'd enjoy being more active," John smiled as he walked to the front of the room and powered the monitor and video player, loaded the disc, and returned to the chair beside Dave's, holding a remote control device. "I doubt I'd have said anything like that six months ago, though."
"Oh, and speaking of it being the last weekend of July, Scoop and Katie and the band come back this week."
"Wow. I guess they have been gone for a whole month, huh?"
"Yeah, it's been just about a month."
"Have you heard from Scoop at all? I got a few emails from Katie, and she said that they were having a pretty awesome time."
"Yeah, I did hear from Scoop a couple of times, and he said that everything was going pretty well."
The two were silent as John dimmed the lights in the screening room before Dave spoke again.
"So, what kinda movie are we about to watch?"
John shook his head. "From the description, it's an experimental period-piece about two gay circus aerialists."
"Uh-oh," Dave joked, affectedly cautionary, "Is it gonna have mimes in it?"
"Why would you ask that?" John shook his head, laughing baffled.
"I dunno. I guess that I've only seen a couple of so-called art-movies, and one of them was this one that Scoop and the band guys were big into about a British photographer in the 60s who accidentally photographs a murder in-progress. Anyway, it had these mimes at the beginning and the end of the movie. If I've seen, maybe, five art movies, and one of them has had mimes in it, I guess I read that as a twenty percent chance that any given art-movie is gonna have mimes."
John rolled his eyes. "Do you have an aversion to mimes or something?"
"No, but in my mind, I guess they're synonymous with art movies. I've seen, like, beer commercials on TV where average guys get dragged to see foreign movies by their girlfriends, and the foreign movies always seem to be populated by mimes."
"I have no idea if there are going to be any mimes in this movie, Dave," John's reaction was abrupt and slightly impatient but not without humor. "We'll just have to watch it and see."
John pressed the play-button on the remote control and the screen of the monitor brightened, coming to life.
"For a normal guy, you're weird," John spoke, eyeing Dave with mock-suspicion.
Dave reached to John's hand, taking it into his while returning the stare with a raised eyebrow.
"You like my weirdness, and you know it."
"You called it." John spoke as he raised the lights in the screening room, bringing it back from its dimmed state.
"Yeah I did."
"Five minutes in and the first appearance of the mime, and I could almost feel you grinning over there."
"Heh," Dave chuckled, smug.
"What did you think of the film anyway?"
"It was cool," Dave responded, bright. "I mean, it was artsy and goofy, but I liked it."
John's eyes narrowed as he grinned, crooked. "I think the people who made the film might regard the adjective 'goofy' as 'dismissive'."
"Well, I call them as I see them," Dave countered. "Are you gonna put this one into the festival?"
"Yeah, I think I'll recommend it to the others. It was pretty enjoyable and nicely-done. We don't have any off-the-wall, art-house stuff yet, and that's gotta be represented in an indie festival."
Dave laughed. "You say 'off-the-wall' and I say 'goofy'. Is one really more flattering than the other?"
"Nah," John chuckled. "You got me there."
"So, you staying here to edit tonight?"
"Yeah, I have a crap-load of that to do. I've had that stuff on the backburner since I've been screening these festival entries, but my schedule should lighten up a little once I get the backlog control."
"When will you be back at the apartment?"
"Probably not until tomorrow morning. Planning an all-nighter."
"Ah, I'll be gone to work by then."
"Hey, did you talk to your dad today?"
"Oh, yeah," Dave perked. "I meant to tell you that he's gonna come out to visit the third week in August, the week after my internship is over before my fall classes start."
John raised a suspicious eyebrow. "He's not crashing at our place is he?"
"No," Dave grinned. "He's staying at a hotel and getting a rental car, but I'm sure that I'm going to be his tour-guide of the Portland while he's here. And I'm sure he's going to want to see my place, and maybe hang there a little while he's in town."
"Cool." John smiled subtly, pleased. "Am I gonna get to meet your dad while he's here?"
"Of course!" Dave nearly roared. "You're my roommate, dude. My dad's gonna be here a whole week. He's going to want to meet my friends if they happen to be around. I'm sure he's gonna want to meet Scoop too for as much as I've talked about him over the time I've been in Portland."
John nodded, quiet smile still in place. "I like how close you are with your dad. I'm looking forward to meeting him."
"If you guys don't get along, I'm gonna kick both of your asses."
John laughed, a hearty guffaw.
"You think I'm kidding?" Dave threatened, affected.
"No, not at all. Hey, what are you doing for dinner?"
"I was just gonna head back to the apartment and find some leftovers or something."
"How 'bout I order us a pizza," John offered. "We can eat it here since no one's really around to tell us not to, and, while we're waiting for it to be delivered, I can show you the editing booth, my second-home."
"Sounds good to me."
"Hey!" Dave almost yelled into his phone. "I've been trying to flag you down since the weekend, but we haven't run into each other at the apartment at all lately. I figured that calling you from work would be my best option to catch you before the weekend."
"Yeah," John replied, "I've been busy with all of that stuff for the film-festival fund-raiser event, and I'm trying to get the one editing project done by the end of the week."
"That's cool. Dad is coming in this Friday afternoon. I'll be meeting him at the airport and we'll probably grab dinner somewhere, but I'm sure he'll be jetlagged and want to sleep after that. Saturday, though, I was hoping you could meet him and we could all go do something."
"Aw, crud."
"What?"
"I'll be busy most of the day Saturday with that fund-raiser thing. The event is in the evening at the Q-Center, and they have me working the door."
"Oh, wow," Dave voiced, somewhat deflated.
"I mean, I like doing the stuff with the film festival, but I'd rather be hanging with you and meeting your dad than dealing with the snobby, quasi-cultured shmooze-fest."
"Well, is this, like, a private event?"
"No, it's open to the public."
"Well, then, why don't we all go? Bring my dad along?"
"Uh, I guess we could do that. But it's just gonna be a bunch of pretentious rich people, self-styled elitists and a handful of gay-and-lesbian film-festival hangers-on, kinda like I was five years ago."
"I dunno. Might be cool to expose him to something like that."
"Your call, Dave."
"Is there gonna be food?"
"Oh, yeah. Hors d'oeuvres, food, drinks, cash-bar, stuff like that."
"That's all you had to tell me. Dad's first exposure to Portland night-life is taken care of."
"It's your funeral."
"Heh!" Dave chuckled. "Oh, hey, mark your calendar. Next Friday night is Omnivore's welcome-home show at the White Box."
"Oh, cool. Well, my schedule will be pretty free after this Saturday night, so I shouldn't have to mark my calendar for that, but it's good to know in advance."
"Oh, and save Wednesday night too while you're at it. I got Scoop and Katie coming over. Scoop will be grilling for you, me, and Dad."
"Scoop grilling. You don't hafta twist my arm for that."
"Cool. Hey, John, I gotta get back to work here, but I'm sure we'll run into each other sometime before now and Saturday."
"Yup. Talk to you later."
Referenced music:
"Cosmic Thing" by the B-52s
"Live With Me" cover version by Girlschool (originally written by Jagger/Richards)