Chapter Two
Gavin
Gavin stood at the sink and dried his hands when he heard the door open. “Why are you back so soon?”
Tony stepped inside and stared at Gavin. “Why are you naked?”
“I asked you first. And, where’s your shirt?”
“Some guy threw up on me at the bus stop.” Tony tossed his shirt at Gavin.
“Ugh, it smells like the floor of a bar after closing.”
“You oughtta know.” Tony took the sting out of the insult with a smile. “I’m hoping he puked because of the booze, but with my luck he has Ebola too.” He ran a hand through his dark brown hair, pushed it back off his forehead, and gave Gavin another once-over. “Now you. Explain to me why you’re standing naked in my kitchen? Do you do this every time I leave?”
Gavin held the T-shirt away from him, trying not to smell it again. “I was doing the dishes and didn’t want my clothes to get wet. I’m wearing underwear, in case you didn’t notice.” He glanced at the shirt. “You want me to wash this?”
“Burn it. I need a shower.” Tony started to turn out of the small kitchen, but he stopped and looked at Gavin as if he had something to say but didn’t want to say it. “Ben called again.”
Gavin’s heart kicked up a notch, just like it always did when someone mentioned Ben’s name. “What’d you say?”
“I let it go to voicemail again. He’s getting desperate. He actually left a message this time.”
“What’d he say?” Gavin scowled as he tossed the shirt into the garbage. The smell was overwhelming. Maybe he really should burn it.
Tony looked concerned, his brows knitting together before he spoke. “He said he needs to speak to you and would I please call to let him know you’re okay and to tell you to call.”
“He probably just wants to know where I hid the remotes.”
“What remotes?”
“TV, cable, stereo, Blu-ray…” He should probably feel bad for being so childish, but Ben thought he was too young anyway. Why not prove his point? “I hid them in the dumpster.” He didn’t tell Tony he’d left the television on C-SPAN and the volume on the sound system all the way down before tossing the remotes. Or that he’d felt guilty after the fact and left some meals in the freezer for Ben.
Tony didn’t call Gavin out on being an immature twat, but he did laugh at him. “Remind me not to piss you off.”
Gavin’s only defense was a shrug and a smile. “He needed to upgrade to a universal remote anyway. He’ll thank me one day.”
“I highly doubt that.” Tony turned again, probably for that shower he desperately needed, but he said over his shoulder, “We should hit the clubs tonight.”
“Haven’t you met your quota for getting puked on by strangers?”
“You’d think.”
Gavin laughed as Tony disappeared around the corner. He finished wiping down the counters and then went into the living room. Tony was a shitty housekeeper, truth be told, but Gavin didn’t mind. Cleaning Tony’s apartment, organizing all of his useless crap, alphabetizing his record collection, and trying to force a healthy meal on him once in a while gave Gavin something to do. Or maybe Gavin had just fallen into the habit of taking care of Ben and now he simply transferred all of that onto Tony. Gavin knew he’d have to get a job soon. His minuscule savings had already dwindled down to next to nothing. But for the moment, Tony didn’t seem bothered. In fact, he appreciated the clean towels and fresh sheets.
He’d met Tony when he was barely fifteen. They hung out at the same used-record store. Gavin wasn’t out to anyone then, was still trying to deny being gay even to himself. Being raised by overzealous religious types could have that effect on a guy. Even a thin, swishy little guy who had a harder time hiding it than most. But Tony was out and proud, and he didn’t even try to conceal his lingering looks at Gavin. They became easy friends, sharing the same taste in music, movies, and clothes. All the important things, right? They even tried making out a few times, exchanged handjobs more than once. Tony was a year older than Gavin and had more experience at the time, which added to the excitement for both of them.
When Gavin’s mother walked in on them one afternoon, caught them ditching class and jerking each other off in Gavin’s bedroom right after he’d turned sixteen, well, that was that. She kicked him out—literally. Chased him out the door with a broom in her hand, calling him dirty, an abomination. She pushed, shoved, and booted him out to the sidewalk with only the clothes on his back while his brother and sister who were too young for school watched in stunned silence.
In retrospect, he was glad it went down the way it had. He’d heard horror stories about conversion therapy—torture and brainwashing would be a better name for it—and if it had been his father to walk in that day, Gavin felt certain that’s where he would’ve ended up. Instead, he ended up at Tony’s house for a few nights, and then, when Tony’s mom said he’d stayed over enough lately, he moved on to another friend’s couch. He kept that cycle up for two years, got a job, finished high school, and then… Ben.
Gavin really didn’t want to think about Ben or the wound their last fight had opened in him, so he decided to tackle Tony’s front closet. Why the guy had tennis rackets, a hockey stick, and six-inch stiletto pumps was a mystery, but Gavin would find a place for it all. Or he’d make a cross-dressing sports enthusiast at the homeless shelter very happy.
Tony had tried to pull Gavin out onto the dance floor more than once, but Gavin just wasn’t feeling it tonight. He’d been out with friends, dancing and drinking, without Ben before, but he’d always gone home to Ben. He’d crawl into their bed and sidle up next to him until Ben would wake up and pull him close, fuck him all night until Gavin was ready to fall asleep. And going out with Ben? Dancing with him? That was their foreplay. It didn’t matter if they were hopping around to a heavy beat in a club or trying a clumsy waltz in the living room to some old song Ben’s parents used to love. Every step they took together led to the same place.
But not tonight. Maybe not any night ever again.
Yes, maybe. Because Gavin still hoped Ben would pull his head out of his ass and get over whatever the hell was bugging him. He still hoped they would work through this bullshit and maybe even talk about some of the things Gavin needed to get off his chest. Maybe they should’ve done that a year ago. Maybe none of this would be happening now if they had. Maybe.
Gavin stood next to Tony at the bar. He’d been twenty-one for more than six months now, but he still enjoyed getting to buy a drink for himself with a real live, legal ID. Tony flirted with the bartender, and Gavin tossed back his whiskey sour before ordering another when something caught his eye.
He nudged Tony. “Oh my God. Look.”
“At what?” Tony narrowed his eyes and searched through the haze from the fog machine and the pulsing strobe lights.
“Is that Ben over there?”
Tony seemed to go from slightly annoyed at the elbow in his ribs to curious. “Think so.”
Yeah, it was definitely Ben. He took a few steps closer to them, though he didn’t seem to see them. “Is he with anyone?”
“Doesn’t appear to be.” Tony paused and then winced when they saw Ben lean close and say something to some guy next to him.
He’d felt his share of punches in his life, but Gavin thought that one little image hurt worse than anything physical ever could. “I can’t believe he’s out cruising already. It’s only been a week.” He ordered another drink and took it down in one swallow before saying to the bartender, “Keep ’em comin’.”
Tony eyed him as he ran through another round, but didn’t say anything about slowing down. “Why wouldn’t he be? He’s the one who ended it, not you.”
“So not helpful.” Gavin switched to Fireball shots.