Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

MIKE

The bar is crowded for a Sunday, but the Pens are playing, and the wings and beer are cheap, so I probably should have expected it. I take a quick glance around but don’t see Danny. Not that I expect to. I’m early. I figure it’s better to get here first so that he won’t walk in and have to wonder if I’ll show or if I’m going to stand him up. I wouldn’t, of course. I’m not a jagoff like that. But yesterday at the game, he was an adorable mix of confident and insecure, and I don’t want him to be anxious. He’s so friggin’ sweet. And gorgeous, with his blond curls and soft brown eyes. Now I get what ‘doe-eyed’ means. Christ, he could look at me and ask me to do just about anything, and I’d try my damndest. There’s no doubt I’m well and truly smitten, as my pap would say. Well, he’d say it if I was dating a girl. Or if he and I were talking. But he doesn’t agree with all the ‘gay nonsense’ any more than my parents do.

I push my way to the bar and see the regular weekend crew working tonight. Phil’s closest so I wave to catch his attention. When he sees me he grins. “Hey Tink! What can I get you?”

“Two Iron City lights.”

He jerks his head to the far corner of the room. “Table just opened up if you want to grab it. I’ll bring ‘em over.”

“Thanks, man.” I spy the table he means, loaded with beer glasses and pitchers. I push through the clumps of people, peeling off my leather jacket and dropping it onto one of the stools before stacking the glasses and clearing up the napkins.

“Tink, stop. Let me get that.” Tricia expertly weaves through the crowd and sets her tray on the table, quickly loading it with the dirty dishes. “Did you order?”

She wipes off the table, and I sit. “Phil’s getting two Iron lights for us, and we’ll probably order wings or something in a little bit once my friend gets here.”

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow and grins. “A friend? Or a friend ?”

I don’t even try to hold back my own grin. “The second one. I hope. It’s new. Like, last night new.”

Both of her eyebrows go up. “And you’re seeing each other again tonight? That’s a good sign. And damn, you work fast!”

“I know a good thing when I see it. And he’s a good thing.” Everyone who works here knows I’m gay. Some of the regulars do too. And no one cares. Which is how it should be everywhere. Sadly, it’s not.

“Tell me what he looks like, and if I see him, I’ll point him in your direction.”

I raise my hand a bit above my shoulder. “He’s about five-six or five-seven, blond, curly hair, and a thousand-watt smile that’s sweet and sexy at the same time.” God, every time Danny turned that smile on me last night, I swore I was going to melt.

“Dude, you got it bad.” She shakes her head and then does a double take. “That him?” She points toward the door. When I look over, I catch sight of blond curls, and then Danny sees me and smiles. Tricia laughs. “Shit, you weren’t kidding.” She winks at me. “I’ll let you two say hello. Be back in a bit to check on you.”

She disappears into the crowd, but all my attention is on Danny as he walks closer. When he reaches me, his eyes dart everywhere, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure what to do. I push off my stool and reach for him, pulling him against me in a tight hug. Is it too much? Maybe for a first date. But what can I say? I’m an affectionate guy. If Danny can’t handle it, then I need to know now, because that would be a deal breaker. “It’s good to see you.”

His body is stiff, and he glances around. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just a hug. And it’s a mostly straight crowd, but they’re pretty chill. I’m not gonna try and kiss you or anything like that, but a hug is okay.”

Danny completely relaxes against me, with his temple resting against my jaw, and his arms slide around my waist. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. And that you’re glad to see me.”

“Were you worried I wouldn’t be? Or that I’d stand you up?” I’m teasing, because who in their right mind would stand up this sweet, awesome man? When he nods, I freeze, then lean back to look him in the eyes. “Really?”

His cheeks turn pink and he shrugs, playing it off. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

That makes my blood boil, and I squeeze him tighter. “Well, whoever they were, they’re an asshole.”

When I finally let him go, Danny beams up at me and pulls off his coat, draping it over his stool. He sits down on it, smiling at me like I’m some kind of massive stud or something, and damn, I feel like I won the lottery. “That’s what Chris said.”

“Chris?” I try to keep my voice even and my expression curious. There’s no way I want him to think I’m jealous. We barely know each other.

Danny grins like he knows what I’m thinking. “My best friend. I told you about him last night.”

I do remember him talking about a friend, but I don’t think I ever heard a name. “The one who moved to California last month?” Danny flashes another killer smile, and my whole body heats up.

“You remember that?”

Cheeuh! “It seemed important to you. Of course I remember.”

He gives me a sideways glance, but he’s still smiling. “That’s really sweet. I’m not used to people paying that kind of attention.”

What the hell? “It’s not that difficult. You say things and I listen. And then I say things and you listen. That’s how conversations work.”

He snorts. “Really, the term conversation is a stretch for my everyday exchanges with people. Usually, they talk at me and ignore most of what I say.” He waves his hand like he’s brushing the topic aside. “Enough about that. Too depressing. How was your day?”

“Heads up!” Tricia’s voice cuts through the chatter of the growing crowd. They part for her, and she swoops in, deposits the two beers in front of us, hands us each a menu, then turns to Danny with a mischievous grin. Shit. I’m in trouble now. “Hey there. I’m Tricia. I know Tink here is gonna get the Buffalo wings, double ranch dressing, hold the celery. What can I get you?”

Danny glances at me, his lips twisted in a kind of half smile that he’s fighting to hide. “Tink?”

“That’d be me.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he looks between us. “Really? Why Tink?”

I gesture to the menu. “Why don’t we order and then I’ll tell you.”

Danny nods and looks over the offerings, biting his lip so hard in concentration that I’m worried he might draw blood. “I’ll have the Buffalo wings too.” He hands his menu to Tricia. “But you can bring the celery with mine. In fact, I’ll take Tink’s . Thanks.”

She turns to me. “Anything else?”

I focus my attention on Danny, ignoring her shit-eating grin. “Loaded potato skins? Or nachos?”

He doesn’t even hesitate. “Nachos.”

I grin and hand Tricia my menu. “You heard the man. Two orders of Buffalo wings and an order of nachos, please.”

She adds my menu to the stack she has under her tray. “You got it. I’ll be back in a little bit to check on the beer situation.” And with that, she disappears into the crowd.

“So.” There’s a twinkle in Danny’s eyes. “Tink?”

“Yeah. It’s what the guys at the shop call me. Well, a lot of people call me that now, but it started there.” Danny leans in, his eyes locked on mine, and damn, it’s intoxicating. I want to be the center of his attention all the time. “When I first started working there, everyone called me Mike. Or Mikey. Not that I’ve ever gone by that, but you know some guys have to change up other people’s names just because.” Danny takes a sip of his beer, but his eyes never leave mine. “Anyway, I worked there for like, six months, and everything was good. I was doing a good job, learning a lot from the guys, and everything was cool. Then one afternoon, this preppy came in, wearing his pink Polo shirt with the collar popped, pressed chino shorts, and Docksiders. His hair was parted on the side and combed back perfectly. The minute I saw him, I knew shit might get hellacious, because I recognized him. Which meant he might recognize me.” Danny’s expression tells me he doesn’t get what I mean. “From seeing each other at the Pegasus, downtown.”

Danny’s eyes go wide, and he sits up. “Oh, shit.” He leans in, keeping his voice low, like anyone could hear us over the crowd. “I’ve never been to a gay club. Chris and I were never brave enough to go.” He laughs. “Sheltered suburban boys.”

I laugh with him. “That’s a good thing. There're predators out there trolling for twinks. Obviously not everyone, but you have to be careful.” I take a swig of my beer and go on. “Anyway, long, long story shorter, Dom, one of the guys I work with, tried to scam the preppy, and I inadvertently messed up the play.” I make air quotes around ‘inadvertently’ because I absolutely did it on purpose. “Once the guy left with his flat tire fixed and nothing else, some of the guys in the shop started giving me shit, calling me stupid. Dom, who’s been a pain in my ass since day one, said I’m not stupid, so I must be a fag lover. That led to calling me a fairy, and since these guys have limited imaginations, they started calling me Tinkerbell, which eventually got shortened to Tink.”

I shrug and take a sip of my beer. “They can call me whatever they want. I’m not ashamed of who I am. I had enough of that kind of shit from my old man while I was growing up, and I have thick skin.” Danny glances away briefly, his cheeks going a bit pale, and I wonder if he’s dealing with something like that at home. But I let it go. He’ll tell me if he wants to, whenever he’s ready. “Plus, I’m a big guy, and it’s easy to use my size to intimidate bullies. If it comes down to it, I know how to defend myself.”

Danny looks horrified. “I can’t believe you still work there. Why?”

I shrug. “I’m a mechanic. I can’t think of a single shop in this city where there aren’t guys like that. And not everyone in my shop is an asshole. But there're at least a few everywhere. So it’s likely I’ll have to deal with some kind of bullshit no matter where I work. Plus, I’m pretty stubborn. I don’t give in to intimidation or bullying.” I reach for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “So I told them all to eat shit and die, came in the next week with my name patch changed to Tink, and dared those scumbags to call me anything else.” I chuckle. “It kind of backfired a bit, though, because whenever I stop to get gas or a beer in my work uniform, everyone sees the patch and comments on it or calls me Tink. People assume it’s my nickname.” I shrug. “So I embrace it.”

The way Danny side-eyes me is cute. “And you honestly don’t mind people calling you what amounts to a slur?”

“Nah. It’s not a slur. Not now. Only a few guys at work meant it that way, and complete strangers using it has actually desensitized me to that part of it. And since I wasn’t reacting the way they’d hoped, the bullshit name calling at work stopped. They know now that they can’t get to me.”

Danny still looks uncomfortable. “Which name do you want me to use?”

I shrug. “Whichever one you want. It doesn’t matter either way.”

His shoulders relax. “Okay, then I’m gonna call you Mike. Unless you’d really prefer that I call you Tink.”

I bring his palm to my lips and kiss it, placing it against my cheek. “It makes you happy, so it’s perfect.”

He brushes his thumb across my lower lip, and I lick the tip, ready to suck it into my mouth and show him what I’d love to do to other parts of his anatomy, but Tricia appears with our food and two fresh beers. “Here you go. And I brought a bunch of wet wipes, but I’d definitely recommend washing your hands with soap and water after you’re all done.” She winks at Danny. “Nobody wants hot sauce where it shouldn’t be.”

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what she means, and the thought of hot sauce on my bits makes me wince. “Thanks for that mental image.”

“You’re welcome. Now”—she looks between us—“can I get you anything else?”

Danny and I both shake our heads, and he flashes her one of his killer smiles. “We’re all good. Thanks Tricia.” We dig in, and neither of us says anything for several minutes as we concentrate on filling our stomachs.

Just as we finish the last of the nachos, the Penguins game starts, and Danny’s attention turns to the TV. It doesn’t take long for him to get into the game, cheering when there’s a good play and groaning when the puck misses the net. I thought he was going to throw something at the TV when Mario Lemieux was checked into the boards not even five minutes into the game and had to be escorted off the ice. He turns to me excitedly. “It’s really so much easier to understand the plays by watching them on TV.” He flashes me that sunshiney grin that makes my heart gallop in my chest. “Don’t get me wrong, I had a great time at the game, but I couldn’t follow the puck half the time.”

“It helps that the camera tells you where to look.” He nods, gaze darting back to the television screen. Play is quick and both teams are hungry for the win. In fact, they seem pretty evenly matched. Each team has about the same amount of shots on goal, and even though the Pens and the Devils have several power play opportunities apiece, the first period ends scoreless.

Danny turns away from the TV and refocuses on me. “This is fun. Thanks for asking me out.”

His warm brown eyes sparkle, and I reach for his hand, lacing our fingers together before giving them a gentle squeeze. “It is fun. And thanks for saying yes.”

He shrugs and takes a sip of beer. “I work the evening shift tomorrow, so I can sleep in. How about you?”

“I work bright and early. But I’m a morning person, so I don’t mind.”

Danny leans in, nodding eagerly. “Me too! I try to sleep in, but I can’t make it past 8:00 a.m. It’s like I’m too worried I’m going to miss something.”

Tricia appears, clearing away the trash and taking our empty glasses. “Another round?”

I glance at Danny, my eyebrows raised in question. “Sure. I can do one more, but then I’m going to switch to pop.” His cheeks get pink and he shrugs a little self-consciously. “I’m driving.”

“Cool. I’ll have one more, too.”

Tricia heads for the bar, and before I can even think about a subject change, Danny takes care of it. “So you said your dad gave you shit about being gay.” His gaze drops and he intently studies the wood grain of the table. “Does he still?”

Again, I can’t help but wonder if Danny’s dad is doing that to him, or if he’s safe. He said he was, but I’m not so sure. “He would if we were still talking.” His gaze snaps up to meet mine, eyes wide. I can’t quite tell what he’s thinking, but I’m pretty sure I’m not mistaking a flash of sadness and possibly hope. “I moved out as soon as I could afford it. The day I left, we had a huge screaming match on my parents’ front porch. He said some hateful things about me being gay, I slung a few horrible comments back about him being a bigot and his conditional love, and then I left with a parting shot about him finally being happy that neither of his kids are talking to him now.” I shrug. “That was three years ago. I haven’t spoken to either of my parents since.”

Danny’s face pales, but he holds my gaze. “So, you have a brother? Or sister? And they don’t talk to your parents either?”

“Sister. She lives in Oregon. As far as I know, she’s straight, but she supports me and doesn’t care about who someone sleeps with. Or loves. She and her new husband live in Portland, on his family’s farm.” I grin, trying to lighten the mood. “She keeps asking me to move out there. Tells me her father-in-law has a mechanic job waiting for me, if I ever decide I’m done with working for assholes.” I rub the back of my neck and finish my beer. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s keeping me here anymore. It’s obvious my parents are done with me, and my job is okay, but it’s definitely replaceable.” I shrug. “Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll wake up and decide to go. Just pack up my shit with no notice and drive west.”

Danny sighs, like that’s the best thing he’s ever heard. “God. I’d love to do that. Go somewhere new. Be someone new. Be somewhere where people are more tolerant.” He meets my eyes and holds my gaze. “I hear the west coast is more accepting.”

“It is.” I hold up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong, there are still assholes, but there’re way more folks there who not only tolerate gay people but accept and embrace them.”

Danny slumps in his seat. “I knew I should have gone with Chris. I knew it the day he left.” He snorts. “I knew it the instant my dad started spouting off about him being a bad influence on me, and that he was probably the reason I am the way I am .” Danny rolls his eyes. “By that, he meant gay, in case it wasn’t clear.”

“No, I caught that.” I take Danny’s hand in mine and bring it to my lips, brushing his knuckles with soft kisses. “Well, if you ever want to run away to the west coast, you let me know. I might just be ready.” I intend it to be funny, a kind of joke. But somehow, I mean every word. And from the shock and hope on Danny’s face, I think he knows that too.

Tricia appears, placing two pops on the table. “I guessed and went with Cokes, but if you want something else I can take these back.”

I reach for one of the glasses, perfectly happy with a Coke, and look at Danny. He reaches for the other glass. “This is perfect. Thank you.” Our attention snaps back to the game as the bar erupts with a cheer. The second period has started, and we focus on the game, letting the seriousness of our conversation bleed away. Mario returns in the second period, and as the game progresses, it seems like the teams finally have their shit together. There are fewer penalties, and the ones that do happen are against the Penguins. It’s okay, though, because they shut down all but one power play. Though it’s almost fourteen minutes into the second period before the Penguins finally score against the Devils. Unfortunately, less than three minutes later, and on a power play, New Jersey evens the score.

For as excited as he is about the game, I’m only able to pay attention to Danny, who keeps his hand in mine the entire time, his fingers tracing delicate patterns against my palm. Somehow, his light touch is erotic as hell and has my cock at full mast in my pants. He keeps glancing at me, smiling or biting his lower lip in a way that makes me think he knows exactly what he’s doing. Damn, I want to kiss him breathless. Or bend him over this table and hear him moan. Better yet, take him home and strip him bare, watch him sprawl out over my bed, waiting for me to worship every inch of his body with every inch of mine. The period ends, and Danny turns his full attention to me. “So.” His gaze flicks to my mouth, then back up to meet my eyes. “What now?”

I’m not sure if he means to imply that he’s done with watching the game, but fuck knows I am. Though I don’t want to scare him off by moving too fast. He seems like he’s led a pretty sheltered life in general. “That depends on you.”

“On me? How so?”

I hold his gaze and bring his palm to my lips, gently kissing it. “We can stay and watch the rest of the game, which I’m happy to do. Or…” I pause, waiting to see if he jumps at the first option. He doesn’t.

“ Ooor ?” He drags the word out for a few beats.

“Or we can go back to my apartment.” Again, I let him think about that for a bit. “Up to you. No pressure. If you want to stay here, we can, and I’ll be happy to enjoy your company. But if you’d like to have a little privacy, maybe do more than hold hands, my apartment’s only a few minutes away.”

Danny’s cheeks are a bright red, but his eyes darken with possibility. Or excitement. “I’ve—” He pauses and then seems to make a decision. “I can’t stay out late.” He winces. “God, that sounds so lame. I’m twenty-three, with a full-time job, and I still have to worry about pissing off my parents.”

I give his hand a squeeze. “We can do whatever. If it’s better to stay here, we can do that. If you want to come over for a little while, I promise we’ll only do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

He looks toward the bar. “We need to pay our tab.”

I’m up and out of my chair lightning fast. “I’ll find Tricia.” He reaches for his wallet, but I wave him off. “I have it. You can get it next time.” Because if I have anything to say about it, there will be more nights out with Danny Sullivan.