by Tara Lain
How was Jerry supposed to feel about that? Hell, how did he feel about anything?
A soft knock on the door brought him out of the chair. Mick? Did he want it to be Mick?
Well, shit fire if he didn’t!
He walked to the door and peeked out, then opened it. “Hi, Rod.”
“Hello, darling. I came to check on your pretty ass. Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
Rod walked past him into the big living room and sat—yep, right on the sectional.
“Want something to drink?”
“Sure. Iced tea if you have it. It’s starting to feel summery out there.”
Jerry went into the kitchen, grabbed two glasses, put in ice, and poured from the big jug of sweet tea he’d bought at TJ’s.
Did he want to have this conversation? Yeah, Rodney always helped him figure things out. He carried the tea in and handed one glass to Rod, then sat in the chair.
“So, Andres told me you guys didn’t hit it off.”
Jerry shook his head. “Not so, man. I like Andres a lot. I’m just kind of mixed-up or something.”
Rod stared over the rim of his glass in mid-drink. “Mixed up with Mick Cassidy?”
“Who told you that?”
“Andres. He said you ran out after Mick, didn’t come back for quite a while, and when you did, you smelled like sex.”
“He’s certainly a blabbermouth.”
“Hey, he’s sitting there posing in the nude with nothing to do but talk. Besides, I asked how the date went. That’s a pretty important piece of dating information.”
Jerry sipped his drink. “Yeah. This is, like, the most confusing thing I ever got into, and that’s saying something, man.”
“So, what? You blew him?”
Jerry shook his head. “No. We started with a jackoff and worked up to fucking. Oh, not at the party. Later.”
“You are shitting me! Mick Cassidy?”
“Yeah. The strange thing is that we think of him as this nasty homophobe, but he’s actually kind of innocent.”
Rod opened his mouth and Jerry held up a hand. “He was raised by this queer-hating preacher, and he never heard anything but hate. He’s trying to sort through what he’s been taught versus what he sees in front of him.”
“Like you, you mean?”
“Yeah. And I think the guy is actually gay, but he doesn’t know it. He honestly doesn’t know. He’s not attracted to women, he only likes to watch anal porn, and he took to fucking me like I took to a surfboard.”
“I’m blown away.”
“Yeah, me too. But I did this thing.”
“What? What did you do?”
“When I jerked him off at the ball, I told him it was no big deal. Lots of guys do it. I didn’t want him getting all weird about his attraction to me. He swallowed that whole. I was glad because I figured the guy was just horny, frustrated, and needed an outlet. Then he showed up the next day wanting more.”
“That’s when you fucked.”
“Yeah.” Jerry wiped a hand over his face. Just thinking of it turned him on. “But now I don’t know what to say to him or what to do. I avoided him for three days on duty, and that was no easy thing.”
“It’s always tough playing with straight guys. You know that.”
“Yeah, but he’s not straight.”
“He is in his mind, and that’s what counts.”
“I guess.”
“The question is, how do you feel?”
Shit, that was the question. “Confused. I… I kind of like the guy.”
“Kind of?”
“The sex blew my mind, man.”
“There’s lots of great sex in the world without the complications of a screwed-up gay guy who thinks he’s straight and would have to go against everything he believes to be with you. That’s masochistic, darling.”
“That means, like, bad to myself, right?”
Rod nodded.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Man, that made him sad.
Rod looked at him with his pretty eyes. “You seriously like the big asshole, don’t you?”
He sighed. “Yeah. Why is that, do you think?” He laughed.
“I have no way to judge. I’ve never seen his better side. But I have to say, if anyone could bring this guy to heel, it’s you.”
“Heel?”
“Tame him.”
“Why me?”
“Because I suspect that Mick Cassidy needs a friend as well as a lover, and there’s no better friend than you.”
Whoa. That was the most excellent thing Rod could have ever said.
“But, darling, don’t be surprised at anything he does.”
“What do you mean?”
“A leopard can’t change his spots in one day, even if he’s secretly a lamb. In the meantime, he could eat you.”
Jerry shivered.
MICK OPENED his apartment door and looked in at Jezebel’s back, where she sat bent over his computer. She glanced over her shoulder. “Hi, Michael.” She turned back to her task.
There she was, the prettiest girl at the ball. The girl TL envied him for. He had to feel something.
He slammed the door and covered the space between him and Jezebel in four long steps. Deep breath. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her out of the chair.
Her eyes got huge, and she “eeped” before he crushed his mouth to hers. He knew how to kiss, and he should be able to do a good job. He softened his lips and applied his tongue to the seam of her mouth, now pressed tightly closed. Her shoulders were rigid, but she wasn’t fighting. As he caressed her mouth, her lips parted just a little, and he slipped his tongue inside.
She tasted nice, but nothing like Jerry. Kind of sweet, like a candy you wouldn’t mind having, but not like food you needed to survive. Her lips were so small and soft and her chin didn’t scratch against his own. Not like Jerry at all. But damn, he wanted to enjoy it.
He pulled her closer, and she let him. What would some other guy like TL do right now? He pressed his groin a little closer to her. Of course, he was so much taller, his crotch hit just under her boobs, and maybe that should have been great. Nothing. No flicker of interest from the dick. Dammit!
He pulled his mouth back to reposition it. Needed to keep trying.
She pressed her hand against his chest. “Hey. What’s this all about?”
He tried to smile. “Can’t a guy kiss a pretty girl?”
She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re not interested in me. What are you trying to prove?”
“Nothing. Not trying to prove—” He shook his head and stared at his sneakered feet.
She took his arm and led him over to the small couch, pushed him down on it, and sat beside him. “What’s wrong?”
What was wrong? He shook his head again.
“Look, Michael, I can’t even imagine how horrible it must be to come from your family and know you’re gay. I mean, it’s got to be….”
He couldn’t hear her. She was talking, but no words got through past gay. Gay. Know you’re gay. No. Shit no. Hell no. “Hell no.”
“What?”
“Who says I’m gay? Did you decide that on your own?”
“Oh, come on. You’re clearly crazy about that firefighter. The blond one, Jerry. I don’t blame you. If he was straight, I’d fight you for him. But, Michael—”
Tears pressed at his eyes. Hell no. “No, dammit. Get out of here. You can’t come to my place and call me names. I was trying to help you. How could you do this?”
“Michael—”
“My name’s Mick.”
“Mick! You’re not throwing me out of here. You brought me and you’ll take me home.” One finger came up under his nose. “On top of that, you promised to help me and you will. And in return, I’m going to be your friend and I’m going to tell you the truth. If I made a mistake, I’m sorry, but I think the only one who’s made a mistake around here—is you.” She pressed her finger straig
ht against his heart.
MICK SAT at the back and watched Straight finish his FAST class.
Straight’s deep voice rumbled through the training room. “I know you guys practice two in/two out on structure fires, but these FAST principles will help with firefighter safety. Got it?” He glanced pointedly at Jerry, who was sitting near the front. “Finally, be careful when you’re rescuing to take all the necessary precautions for disease control.” He gave one sharp, laughing bark and turned toward the whiteboard. A couple of guys shook their heads, and one man put a hand on Jerry’s shoulder.
Damn, Mick wanted to beat something. Look how real men treated fags. How could Jerry spend his whole life like that and not kill himself or somebody else?
A hard hand landed on his shoulder. “Hey, Mick. How’s tricks?”
“Hi, TL. Good. I’m good.” He sighed. “Want to get a soda?”
“Yeah, great. I’d like that.”
He got up and walked into the break room with TL beside him. Funny how Mick’s eyes always searched for golden hair. He grabbed two colas from the fridge and handed one to TL. God, his hands were shaking. He sipped the fizzy sugar water.
He looked up. Oh shit. Straight was heading right for them. He nodded.
“Hey, Mick. Someone just told me that your father’s a preacher.”
“Yeah.”
“Is it possible he’s Bill Ray Cassidy?”
What now? “Yeah.”
Straight slapped him on the shoulder. “Well, hell, son, no wonder you took me to task over scripture. I know your father. He’s a great man. I used to go see him when I lived closer. He helped guide my thinking. A great man.”
What in hell did he say to that? He just nodded. Fortunately Straight went on with no help. “TL, I’ve got to take you out to see Bill Ray Cassidy sometime. I mean, this man has the message. He knows what’s going on.” He slapped Mick’s shoulder again. “I can’t believe we have his son right here and I didn’t even know it. Hey, why don’t the three of us get some dinner tonight? Do some talking. I’ve thought more about what you said, Mick, and now I understand.”
“You do?” What was he talking about?
“Yeah. But not here, right? How about we treat ourselves to Rick’s tonight?”
Mick shook his head. “Sorry. Too rich for my blood.”
“Hey, they don’t pay us that bad.” Straight laughed.
“I give away most of my income, so I don’t eat out a lot.”
Straight’s eyes widened. “Of course, forgive me. Well, hell, I think TL and I can contribute to a guy who supports such a great man. See you after you clock out. How about seven? I’ll make a reservation.”
“I don’t want you to do that.”
“My pleasure, buddy.”
Straight walked toward the apparatus room. TL gave Mick a nudge. “Wow. I didn’t know what a hero you are. See you later.”
His head throbbed. Thoughts kept starting and then flying away. Tough to breathe too. They thought he was a hero. A hero because of his father. This couldn’t be happening. Oh God, help.
Chapter Nine
HEMMED IN. TL was on one side of him and Straight on the other as they waited for a table. Mick should be enjoying his first time in this nice restaurant, but he just felt weird. Kind of sick.
The little hostess came up to Straight. “We have a table on the deck as you requested, sir.” She led them to the left and onto the covered deck that looked out over the sidewalk and the Pacific Coast Highway. It was a little noisy, but so was the inside. The place was packed, and voices and music bounced off the walls.
She stopped at a corner table with four chairs. Mick took a chair with his back to the wall, and TL and Ben sat across from him. The hostess smiled. “Jimmy will be your waiter. He’ll be right with you.”
The waiter showed up before they could even get their jackets off. The outside heaters did their job. He ordered a mineral water, and Straight and TL got beers. They looked at the menu for a while. Man, pricey.
Straight reached out and touched his hand. “I recommend the halibut sandwich if you like fish. It’s one of their most popular dishes.”
“Oh, okay.”
“That’s what I’m going to have.”
When they all three set their menus down, the waiter showed back up with their drinks. They all ordered the sandwich.
When the waiter left, Straight smiled. “The fish is good, but the sauce is the best. You’ll love it.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his belly. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said to TL the other day, Mick.”
Oh hell. This was not what he wanted to be doing. But what did he want? Breathe out. Not going there.
Straight looked real serious. “I finally got that what you were telling TL is that our society is so laid-back on the subject of sin, it’s no big deal anymore. People do these awful things and barely remember that they’re defying righteousness in their actions.”
TL leaned forward. “Okay, I get that. Sorry I didn’t understand, Mick.”
He stared in his mineral water. No answers there.
“Schoolboys are led astray and never know that they’re damned until it’s too late.”
Mick glanced up. Straight was on a roll. He didn’t need any agreement.
Straight leaned forward and lowered his voice. “And this is the very thing your father preaches about. We have to rip out the tempters sent by the devil to lead good people astray. The ones who make boys think it’s ‘no big deal.’ That’s the very reason I came to this hellhole of a town. If righteous men only associate with the righteous, how will we rid the world of the sinmongers?”
TL stared at Straight. “Wow, man. I never thought of that.”
Straight smiled. “But Mick thought of it, didn’t you, son? I know now that’s why his father sent him here. To bring truth.”
The waiter and an assistant arrived with their plates. The food looked like garbage. Smelled like garbage. The world reeked of garbage.
TL beamed. “Wow, this looks so good.”
Mick stared at the sandwich.
Straight gestured with the fat piece of fish between two buns and loaded with tomato and onion. “Eat up, Mick. You’re a growing boy.”
He picked up the sandwich in its paper holder. Whatever the sauce was smelled sweet and spicy, but the fish scent crept into his head and zipped around like the guppies in a bowl he’d had when he was six. They’d all died. He bit into the sandwich. Damn. Dead guppies. He chewed twice, three times, then grabbed the mineral water to wash it down. Straight stared at him like he’d swallowed a communion wafer. “Uh, it’s great. Excuse me. I need to go to the men’s room.”
Straight frowned. “Don’t let it get cold.”
Mick nodded. “Nature calls.” He got up and hurried across the deck to the inside of the restaurant. What in hell was he doing here eating food provided by that person?
A waiter walked by. Mick flagged him. “Where’s the men’s room?”
The guy pointed toward the back of the restaurant. “Keep going. You’ll see it after the kitchen on the right.”
“Thanks.” He powered down the aisle between the bar and the booths. What was he going to do? God, nauseated. He dodged two women as they left a booth with their guys and walked a few more steps. What the hell?
The golden hair he’d looked for all day gleamed in a booth at the back of the row across from the door to the kitchen. The little painter dude was there, and the beautiful firefighter, Hunter, and… the black-haired fag who’d come to the ball with Jerry. Right there, sitting beside the man who had said he wanted to fuck Mick again. The guy who had said it was no big deal for a straight man to assfuck a homo. There he was, back with the pretty boy and not even remembering Mick was alive. Oh God, what had he done?
Mick grabbed his stomach. Sick. Going to be sick.
He raced past the booth with the four men.
“Mick!” Jerry’s voice. No. He ran to the hall and saw the
men’s room door just as a guy walked out of it. Mick nodded and tried not to look desperate. The guy rounded him, and Mick stepped through the half-open door. The room had a toilet stall, a urinal, and a sink. Good, he could lock the door. He pulled the handle and—the door ripped out of his hands. Jerry stood in the doorway, took one look at Mick, stepped inside, and locked the door behind him. He faced Mick with his back to the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Me? Me? I can go anywhere I want, asshole.”
Jerry shook his golden head. How could the guy be so beautiful all the time? “I’m sorry. That came out wrong, man. I just meant—oh hell, me being with Andres isn’t what it looks like.”
“Oh. What is it?”
“He was modeling for Rodney, and they all invited me to dinner since I’ve been in a funk.”
Mick couldn’t keep still. He paced three steps to the sink and turned. “And you’ll fuck him later to get you out of your funk?”
“No, dammit. I haven’t been with anyone but you.”
Mick was breathing so hard he should have been on the track. “But—” Breathe. “You lied—” Breathe. “To me.”
“I never.”
Mick poked a finger toward Jerry. “You told me ‘No big deal. Lots of guys fuck other guys,’ when you knew all along that only gay guys fuck other guys. You knew it.”
“Straight guys do too sometimes.” But he looked down when he said it. Even Mick knew that meant a lie.
“You tried to make me gay.”
Jerry looked up and frowned. “Nobody can make anyone gay. You either are or you aren’t, man. To quote Lady Gaga, you’re born this way. And I’m not the one who came over asking to get fucked, remember?”
All his insides quivered. “Are you saying I’m gay?”
Jerry breathed out real hard. “Yeah, probably.”
“Probably?”
“Almost certainly.”
“I can’t be.”
“Almost every guy who ever realized he was gay said that at least once.”