Press Play

by Sam LaRose

  “Why didn’t you call Travis?” Jack asked when Dylan had finished. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you want to drink?”

  “Travis isn’t my sponsor. He’s just a guy I hang out at meetings with.”

  “You lost three years of sobriety,” Jack reminded him. “You worked really hard for that.”

  “Being sober was incredibly fucking boring,” Dylan asserted.

  “Have you ever considered moderation? Swinging to these extremes can’t be healthy.”

  Dylan ignored him. He pushed away, sitting up and wiping away the dampness from his cheeks. “I’m sorry Markus left.”

  “Markus is a big boy who can sleep by himself for a night,” Jack replied. “Do you feel better after getting that out?”

  Dylan nodded. “A little bit.”

  “Good,” Jack slipped from the bed. “Take off your jeans. I’ll get you a glass of water and some aspirin. You should take some now before you go to sleep.”

  “Thanks. Sorry for waking you up.”

  “It’s fine. I’m glad you got home safe.”

  By the time he returned, Dylan had discarded his jeans and crawled under the bed covers. The crying had exhausted and sobered him up. Jack set a glass of water on the side table, along with a bottle of aspirin. He handed another over to Dylan and two tablets.

  “Take these. Drink the water. You’re going to be seriously dehydrated.”

  Dylan took the pills and gulped down the whole glass of water.

  “Do you want the other one?” Jack asked.

  “No,” Dylan shook his head. “I’ll be okay.”

  “I’m going to refill this one, just in case.”

  By the time Jack returned with the refilled glass, Dylan had fallen asleep. Jack placed the glass beside the other. He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared down at his sleeping friend. He wasn’t sure if this was a bad ending to a day, or just the beginning of one.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  As Dylan regained consciousness the next morning, his first realization was that his mouth felt like it was full of fuzz. For a moment he wondered if Goliath was laying on his face. Then he considered that he was breathing fine. The previous night’s activities washed back over him.

  Years of sobriety, down the drain.

  On the bright side, he considered, he had only gotten drunk. He, unfortunately, remembered the entire evening, so he hadn’t gotten completely blitzed. He’d been responsible enough to get himself home and hadn’t hit on anyone for an easy lay. That was positive. He was certain that drinking to excess was out of his system. He’d forgotten how terrible it felt to wake up the next morning.

  He groaned, moving to sit up. He didn’t want to open his eyes, but he needed to see where Jack had left the aspirin and water. He kept them closed, dragging his legs over the edge of the bed. He leaned his elbows onto his knees for a moment, steadying himself before he cracked his eyelids. Too bright! Way too bright!

  He took more time to pull himself together before trying again. He opened them long enough to pick up the water glass before squeezing them shut again. He drank the first glass with his eyes closed. Now his mouth felt slimy. He grimaced, cracking his eyes open again to swap for the full glass and to pick up the pills. He drank half before forcing himself to stand.

  “Good morning.” Jack was exiting the bathroom as he came down the hall.

  “Too loud,” Dylan moaned. The hallway was darker making it easier to keep his eyes open. “Sorry for last night.”

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “Be more specific.”

  “I was asking as a generality,” Jack admitted. “I suppose you aren’t. I’m meeting the guys for breakfast. Do you want to come?”

  “Again, be specific.”

  “My boyfriends.”

  “No, thank you. I’m embarrassed enough.”

  “Dylan, you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.”

  “I got drunk and cried in front of Markus. That’s just for starters.”

  Jack started to open his mouth to speak, then decided against his initial words. Instead he said, “I’m not going to push. Eat something. There are bagels in the fridge. And yogurt.”

  “I’m fine. I’m going to wake up, then run down to the bodega. I need to buy a burner phone.”

  “A burner phone?” Jack repeated.

  “Yeah, I ran over mine, remember?” Dylan prompted. “After that, I’m going to the Castle to pack up my studio supplies. Then, I’m taking that car back to the dealership.”

  “Why don’t you go get dressed and come eat breakfast. Afterwards, we’ll come with you and help you pack up the studio. It’ll go faster if you have help.”

  “I just want my supplies. It’ll only be a few boxes.”

  “What about your work?”

  “I don’t need it.”

  Jack’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Then, let me come as a buffer?”

  “I don’t want you to get involved.”

  “I got involved when you came home drunk,” Jack reminded him.

  “I can only apologize so many times.”

  “Why didn’t you call Travis? Or go to a meeting.”

  “I didn’t have a phone anymore. The bar was closer and easier to find.”

  “I’m not going to stand here and argue with you,” Jack finally relented. “Eat something before you leave.”

  Dylan contemplated before he nodded. “I will. I’m going to lay back down first. My head is still foggy.”

  “I won’t be gone long if you change your mind about letting me go with you.”

  Dylan nodded, waving him away. Jack left, making the quick trip downstairs to Kyle and Markus’s apartment.

  ***

  The two men were standing in the kitchen together. Kyle was at the stove, flipping pieces of French toast off the griddle and onto a plate. Markus was fluffing a bowl of microwaved scrambled eggs.

  “Hey,” Markus called out to him as he took a seat at the dinette table. “Was everything okay after I left last night?”

  “Yeah.” Jack leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his palm. “He cried it out, told me his sad story, then managed to fall asleep. I stayed with him most of the night, just in case he tried to get up again. Once he was out, he was out.” He looked up as Markus brought the bowl to the table and took a chair next to him. “He ran into Tyler in the elevator with Simon. They got into a fight. He went over to Benjamin’s. That’s the guy from his parent’s security team that he’s been seeing? Turns out he’s had orders to keep tabs on him since he came home in May.”

  “Isn’t sleeping with him a major issue then?” Kyle asked, stepping out of the kitchen. He laid a plate down in front of each of the men.

  “Apparently, the guy was given by any means necessary clearance.”

  Kyle’s eyes widened. “That is messed up. What is he doing now?”

  “He went back to bed. He says he wants to go home and pick up his art supplies from his studio. Then he’s going to return that car his parents bought him to the dealership.”

  “Why?” Markus looked confused.

  “I assume because the car has a lojack system on it.”

  “What’s to stop someone from putting one on whatever he replaces it with?”

  “Nothing,” Jack replied. “He didn’t say he was trading it in. Just getting rid of it.”

  Kyle bit his lip as he walked back to the kitchen. He brought in a tray with toppings for the French toast and glasses. He hooked the handle of the orange juice carton onto his pinkie finger.

  “I suppose Jordan hasn’t heard anything about this?” He finally asked.

  “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “He’s working on that motorcycle for Mr. Montgomery. That could be awkward.”

  “I forgot all about that.”

  “I’ll tell him to come down.” Kyle picked up his phone from the table. A woosh sounded after he tapped out a message.
/>   “Should we tell him to have Tyler come too?” Jack asked. “He should know about Dylan.”

  Kyle’s phone buzzed. He picked it up to answer the call.

  “Hey,” Jordan’s voice sounded, “I already left for the garage. What’s up?”

  “That’s what we want to talk to you about,” Kyle answered. “Dylan came home drunk at two AM.”

  “Are you kidding? That’s not funny.”

  “He’s not kidding,” Jack called. Kyle turned the phone so the two could see each other.

  “Did he say what happened?”

  Jack gave him the run down.

  “Fuck.”

  “We thought you should know, since you’re working on Mr. Montgomery’s bike.”

  “I hate to quit a project,” Jordan bit his lip. “That is some really fucked up shit though.” He blew out a sigh. “Okay. I’m turning around and heading back. I’m not doing another thing to it until I talk to Dylan.”

  “He said he wanted to go down to the bodega and buy a burner phone. He drove over his last night.”

  “Sounds about right. K, can I talk to you in private, please?”

  “Sure. Sorry,” Kyle stood up from the table, “be back in a few minutes. Go ahead and start eating.” He carried the phone to the bedroom. He took a seat on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to go to Dylan’s and check on him. You’re not going to get worked up about it, right?”

  “Do what you need to do for your friend.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I trust you,” Kyle assured him.

  “Are you working this afternoon?”

  “I’m going home to help my Mom pick the last of her pumpkins and put her garden to bed for the winter,” Kyle answered. “Markus, Jack, and I have plans for tonight. I’m willing to ditch them if you want to do something instead. Or,” he drew out the word, “you could join us too.”

  “Four people is too many,” Jordan smiled. “Besides, what would Heath say?”

  “Heath being on tour with Harley is the perfect excuse to try something new. I wouldn’t think you’d be interested in doing something as the five of us.”

  “Definitely not,” Jordan laughed. “When they’ve worn you out, come upstairs.”

  “Let me know how it goes with Dylan. I hope he’s okay.”

  “He’s nothing if not resilient,” Jordan declared. “Talk later.”

  Kyle waved before ending the video call. He went back out to the dinette. He started assembling his toppings as his boyfriends stared expectantly at him.

  “What?”

  “What did he want to talk about?” Jack asked.

  “He’s going to talk to Dylan,” Kyle told them. “They’re friends. He needs to be there for his friend.”

  “You’re okay with that? After everything.”

  “I’ve never been a jealous person,” Kyle reminded him. “I can’t explain what it is about the two of them that set me on edge. I need to be better if Jordan and I are going to stay together. So, yes, I’m okay with it.”

  “Are you really?” Markus asked.

  “It’s just a friend supporting a friend,” Kyle intoned. “I have nothing to worry about.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Dylan cracked open the door after Jordan knocked. “What’s up? Did we have plans I forgot about? My phone—”

  “You ran it over,” Jordan finished. “I heard. Are you okay?” He pushed the door open, letting himself into the apartment.

  “I’m better than I was when I woke up an hour ago,” Dylan scowled. “I can finally open my eyes. The aspirin is doing its job on the headache.”

  “Have you eaten anything?”

  “I had a bagel. I was about to walk down to the bodega. I need a new phone.”

  “You could go back to your old phone. The one you had with the new number on it.”

  “David has that number.”

  “Yes, but he didn’t install the app on it. He’d probably expect you to go get a burner. He, legally, shouldn’t have any access to the number to try and do anything underhanded. He’d have to have physical possession of your phone to get a forwarding app or anything like that on it.”

  “How do you know that?” Dylan raised an impressed eyebrow.

  “Sometimes I get bored and paranoid,” Jordan offered.

  “Great. You saved me eighty bucks.”

  “Jack also told me about what happened with Benjamin last night. I have a more serious question.”

  “No, I don’t want you to go kick his ass.”

  Jordan laughed, “I’m willing, but unable to do that anyway. I need to ask you about the Henderson.”

  “What about it?” Dylan frowned.

  “I’m working on that bike as part of a deal with your Dad. I don’t want to keep doing it if you’re not comfortable with it.”

  “Jordan, I want you to sink as much money and effort into that bike as humanly possible. You’re taking the Super Cub as payment. You deserve more. In fact, you should bill him for extra fees. Have Mario bill him for the bay, as an example.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’m angry with my father, but that doesn’t mean you should stop working on the bike. I know you’ve enjoyed the challenge.”

  Jordan let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad. That’s incredibly selfish, but I’ve done so much work on it. I promise, it’s costing a shit ton.”

  “Good.” Dylan gave him a nod of approval.

  “So,” Jordan segued, “you got drunk last night.”

  “I did. Really drunk.”

  “Do you want to go to a meeting?”

  Dylan considered it for a minute before he shook his head. “I don’t. I’ve spent the last four years going to meetings. They helped me for a long time, but the fact is, I have self-control. Last night, I didn’t lose it. I made the decision to go down to that bar. I made the conscious decision to not stop after one drink. I’m not going back tonight, or tomorrow, but having a drink or two on a night out isn’t the end of the world. I can do better, even if I don’t go to meetings anymore.”

  “What about Travis?”

  “Travis is going to be disappointed in me. I probably won’t be seeing him any more,” he admitted. “Sobriety is important to him.”

  “Sobriety was important to you.”

  “It was important to other people.” Dylan looked up at him, rocking back on his heels. “Is it important to you?”

  “It would be hypocritical of me to ask you not to drink when I imbibe myself,” Jordan acknowledged. “I want you to be at peace with your own decision. Don’t do something to make me, or anyone else, happy. Do it for you.”

  “While I’m disappointed in myself, I’m also relieved,” Dylan stated. “I feel strangely better after last night’s binge.”

  “Be careful, okay?”

  “I’m not going to do anything crazy,” Dylan assured him. “Well, I’m going to pick up my art supplies and take them over to Stuart’s place. ...I guess it’s my place now? Fuck, that’s so weird.”

  “Do you need help?”

  “Not with that,” Dylan shook his head. “I’m taking the car back to the dealership today. I want that Honda we looked at together. It was a good size, lots of carrying capacity for toting around big canvases if I ever need to.”

  “You want me to go to the dealership with you?”

  “I’d like to have a Car Guy with me, just in case.”

  “Sure. When?”

  “Meet me back here at two this afternoon?”

  “I can do that.” Jordan took a step closer. “Is that all you need?”

  Dylan felt a smile tug at his features. “You want to be comforting, don’t you?”

  “I do. You bring out this nurturing instinct thing.”

  Dylan gave in, sliding his arms around Jordan’s waist. Jordan tugged his hands out of his pocket to wrap them around Dylan’s shoulders. He hugged him tightly. Something about Dylan’s scent was different. Beyo
nd the paint and charcoal was a floral scent.

  “Did you change your bodywash again?” He took a deeper smell.

  “I wasn’t paying attention and bought a lavender deodorant,” Dylan told him. “I didn’t think it was noticeable.”

  Jordan couldn’t resist. He nuzzled Dylan’s neck, pressing his lips to his jaw. “It’s nice. Lavender is a calming scent.”

  Dylan bit his lip. He loosened his hold, leaning back. “Jordan, we can’t. You finally made up with Kyle.”

  “We’re not doing anything,” Jordan chided. He let his arms slide from Dylan’s shoulders and he stepped back. “I’ll keep my hands, and lips, to myself. Promise.”

  Dylan picked at Jordan’s t-shirt, pinching a piece of loose fabric near the hem. “Not forever. Just until this gets taken care of.” He bit his lip. “If we do want to, let’s both talk to Kyle about it this time?”

  “Kyle scares you, remember?”

  “He does,” Dylan acknowledged, “but I know him better than I did at the beginning of the summer. Making you act like a go between wasn’t fair of me. I should have been up front with him and assured him I wasn’t stealing you. I only wanted to borrow you for a little while.”

  “When you’re ready,” Jordan leveled with him. “There isn’t any rush. I’m here to support you, however you need me.”

  “Right now, I want you to meet me back here at two. Unless you know how to reactivate my phone?”

  “I have no idea,” Jordan admitted, “but your provider can probably help you do it over the phone. You can borrow mine to make the customer service call.” He reached into his pocket, handing it over.

  “Thanks, but hold on until I actually find the other phone. I think I threw it into a drawer in the office, but I’m not positive...”

  “I’ll wait while you look.”

  Jordan watched Dylan pad, barefoot, down the hall toward the office. He heard the sounds of drawers opening and papers shuffling. After a minute, there was an “Ah ha!” and Dylan reappeared, holding the phone.

  “Let’s get this figured out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “We had a fucking deal.”

  Dylan turned from the box he was filling with tubes of paint. He looked, bewildered at David. The man looked livid. Which was not an expression he was accustomed to seeing on David’s face. He had been almost disappointed when the man hadn’t been lying in wait at his arrival. In fact, he’d managed to pack up half his supplies before David’s intrusion on the room.