Gathering Storm

by Alexa Land

  “Found some,” he said, catching me around the waist and pulling me to him. He tugged down the sweatpants, then playfully nipped my rear.

  “Hey now,” I said, dropping onto his lap. “That’s not going to get us downstairs.”

  “Nope. It’ll keep us right here, for some sweet gay homosexual lovemaking.” I laughed at that, and he added, “Gay homosexual? Really?”

  “She always calls it that. There’s no point in correcting her, I already tried.”

  We got dressed and went downstairs, and found that the gallery was hopping. A few art students with a Crayon-box of hair colors were arranging and rearranging a cluster of black-and-white photos on one wall, bickering about ‘balance’ and ‘composition.’ They were an awesome contrast to the dark-suited mafiosos installing the upgraded alarm system. Since this involved cutting into the walls, the Sopranos were in turn wonderfully contrasted by a group of flannel-shirted Teamster types who were going around patching the drywall, while still more art students buzzed around, snatching paintings out of harm’s way and complaining about the dust.

  In the middle of the room, Kieran and Vincent were engaged in a deep discussion. Vincent was holding a little white control panel, gesturing at it with his long, graceful fingers. Brian joined them, and then Vincent glanced up and saw me. He barely reacted, just a little emotion flaring in his dark eyes, which he quickly pushed away.

  He rejoined the conversation, and I watched him for just a little longer. He was such a beautiful man, and such a tortured soul. Whatever secrets churned in the depths of those dark eyes wouldn’t be mine to uncover, though.

  And thank God he’d pushed me away, because if he hadn’t, I’d never have gotten involved with Brian. My boyfriend glanced over his shoulder at me, and gave me a playful wink and a smile. I beamed at him and blew him a kiss, then went off to find my best friend.

  Christopher was out in front of the building. He and Charlie were standing side-by-side with identical poses and skeptical expressions, arms crossed over their chests, right hips slightly jutting out. “What are we looking at?” I asked, turning to face the building, and assuming the same position those two were in. I tilted my head up like theirs were, and said, “Ah.”

  “He’s going to fall and crack his skull,” Charlie said.

  “Most definitely,” Christopher agreed.

  Charlie’s husband Dante was hanging out of a second-story window, so far that it was surprising he hadn’t already fallen. He was holding a pair of long-handled salad tongs, which in turn grasped a dripping wad of paper towels, and was trying to use it to scrub at something in the very front and center of the blue building. He kept coming up about two inches short.

  “What’s he doing?” I asked.

  “He’s trying to wash away some bird shit,” Charlie explained.

  “Ah. And why, exactly?”

  “Because he takes his job as my landlord really seriously,” Christopher said. “He noticed this huge seagull present right on the front of the building, and said it would never do, not with my gallery opening tonight. The hose wouldn’t reach around the front of the building, and the stepladder was too short, so Landlord-of-the-Year Dombruso decided to approach it from above.”

  “He should have tried water balloons,” I said. Then I yelled up to Dante, “You should have tried water balloons!”

  “That’s actually a good idea,” Dante called down. “But I don’t have any.”

  “I do,” I called back. “Ok, technically, they’re XXL condoms, but they’d do the trick. Your grandmother just gave them to me.”

  Dante started laughing, and dropped back inside the window, then stuck just his head out. “Seriously?” he called.

  “Seriously!”

  “Why did she do that?”

  “I’m not sure, it was a long story. Something to do with tootsie rolls.” I flashed him a big smile.

  “Good lord,” Dante muttered. Then he called, “I’m coming down. The salad tongs aren’t working.”

  “Grab the giant condoms! They’re on the futon in Christopher’s studio!”

  He joined us a minute later, box of prophylactics in hand. “Did Nana really give these to you?” he asked me.

  “She did indeed.”

  That obviously stirred up about fifty more questions, but after a beat, he just said, “Alright,” and let it drop. He plucked a wrapped condom from the box and said, “You know, trying to wash off that bird crap with water balloons could actually work. But aren’t condoms made specifically not to break?”

  “Yeah, but they’re also not made to hold a gallon of semen. And man, can you imagine such a thing? You’d have to have bowling balls between your legs. Anyway, get enough water in there, and I guarantee it’ll rupture like a fat man’s waistband on Thanksgiving.” I gave him another big smile, and he chuckled at me.

  “You’re very jolly today, Hunter,” Dante said.

  “That’s because he got some last night,” Christopher said with a grin. “A lot of some, by the sound of it.”

  “Oh jeez. You heard everything, didn’t you?” I asked.

  “Nope, just the first moans of toe-curling ecstasy,” he teased. “After that, Kier and I both put in these industrial-grade earplugs that he uses at the shooting range. They worked like a charm.”

  “Really? You didn’t hear anything after that?”

  “Well, okay, occasionally there might have been an orgasmic outburst that exceeded the earplugs’ decibel rating.” His grin got even bigger.

  “I’m sorry for being such a pain. I really need to suck it up and move back to my apartment.”

  “No you don’t,” Christopher said. “And you really weren’t that loud. Believe me, I’ve heard louder. Much, much louder.” He shot a comedically pointed look at Dante and Charlie, his former roommates, both of whom looked away quickly.

  “Aw, how cute are you two?” I said, then took the condom from Dante’s fingers, unwrapped and unrolled it. “You know, these don’t really look much bigger than regular condoms. I bet they just print XXL on the boxes to make guys with tootsie rolls feel better about themselves.”

  “We should make a wager,” Charlie suggested. “First one of us to actually hit the bird poop with a condom water balloon should win some sort of prize.”

  “Not so fast, Sporty Spice,” I said. “Not all of us are jocktastic former football players like you, you know. To make it fair, you’d need some kind of handicap.”

  “I was a tight end, not a quarterback,” Charlie protested. “I don’t throw that well.”

  “Tight end,” I camped. “Mmm mm mmm. God bless America and the game of football.”

  “We’re not really going to do this, are we?” Dante asked. “Because there are a lot of people out here, and I for one could happily live my life without ending up on the internet in a viral condom-chucking video.”

  We all considered that for a beat, and then I said, “Okay, good point,” and stuck the rubber in my pocket. “The bird shit lives to see another day!”

  A few hours later, the grand opening prep was still quite frenzied. Brian turned to me and said, “Damn, you know what? I almost forgot that I have a therapy appointment in half an hour.”

  “That’s okay. You have plenty of time to make it,” I said.

  “Yeah, but I need to accompany you to Jamie’s bar, and I can’t be in both places at once.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m your alleged bodyguard.”

  “But why do we need to go to Jamie’s bar?”

  “You told that cute Trevor kid you’d meet him when he got off work.”

  “Oh hell, I’d forgotten all about that.”

  “I can go with you,” Kieran chimed in. He was stretching his back a few feet away, arms up over his head. “I need to swing by Jamie’s place anyway, because he’s loaning us some chafing dishes for tonight.”

  “What the hell’s a chafing dish?” Brian asked.

  “Well obviously,” Kieran told h
im, “it’s a dish that chafes.”

  Brian chuckled at that. “You don’t know either, do you?”

  “No clue. Christopher said we needed them for the buffet, that’s all I know.”

  “I thought a professional caterer was handling all the food for tonight’s event,” I said.

  “Caterer, yes. Professional, not so much,” Kieran explained. “Christopher hired the brother of one of his classmates, who’s just starting out in the business. This is his first big job, the guy’s so excited.” That sounded exactly like something my benevolent best friend would do.

  A few minutes later, Kieran and I were in his beat-up vintage Mustang, a restoration project in progress. “How’s your back?” I asked as he shifted a bit in his seat.

  “It’s a lot better, it just stiffens up occasionally. Thanks for asking.”

  “De nada.”

  We pulled up to a red light, and he glanced over at me. “So, you and Brian, huh? I would never have predicted that, not in a million years.”

  “Me neither when I first met him,” I said with a big smile. He glanced at me again, and looked away, and I told him, “If there’s something you want to say to me, don’t hold back.”

  “I’m trying to figure out how to say it without sounding like an asshole.”

  “Let me take a guess at what you’re about to say.” I pivoted around to face him as much as the seatbelt would allow. “You’re worried that I’m kind of a slut, and that Brian’s just my flavor of the moment, right? You think I might get sick of him thirty seconds from now, and dump his ass for the next pretty face that comes along. You’re concerned about what that’ll do to him, that he’ll not only revert back to how he was, but he’ll be ten times worse. How am I doing?”

  “I wasn’t going to call you a slut,” he said embarrassedly as he rolled forward on the green light.

  “I don’t blame you for being concerned, Kieran. All you’ve ever seen from me is promiscuity. But this thing with your brother is something different. It’s something more.”

  “I’m glad.” After a pause, he said, “You do understand what you’re getting yourself into, though. Right? I mean, he’s really happy right now, happier than he’s been in years, and that’s because of you. But underneath, he’s still so damaged. He’s been suffering with PTSD, depression, night terrors, trying to deal with memories too horrible to imagine, and that stuff doesn’t just go away.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’m not telling you all this to scare you away, Hunter. I just know better than anyone what you’re taking on, and how overwhelming it can be. So, I guess what I’m saying is, let me be your support system, because you’re going to need one. If you ever need to talk, or vent, or just yell for a while, just know that I’m here for you. Okay?”

  I reached out and squeezed his shoulder affectionately. “Thanks, Kieran. I really appreciate it.”

  “You know,” he said after a while, “you’re kind of a miracle worker. I tried for two solid years to get him back into therapy, and you got him to go in a matter of days.”

  “No I didn’t. Brian did that on his own, he wants to get better.”

  Kieran glanced at me. “Wow, really?” I nodded, and he said, “He must be falling for you so damn hard. I mean, for him to proactively make changes like this – do you know how huge that is?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  We pulled up in the alley behind Nolan’s, Jamie’s bar and grill, and as we got out of the car, Kieran said, “Don’t forget what I told you. Just think of me as your 24/7 pressure valve, ready to lend an ear or a shoulder at a moment’s notice.”

  I came around the car and gave him a hug. “That’s really nice of you.”

  “Well, you mean the world to my fiancé, and now you’re dating my brother. In my book, that makes you family, Hunter.”

  I smiled at him as we entered the building through the delivery door. “That’s good to hear. It’s been a while since I had one of those.”

  Once inside, we went in opposite directions, and he said, “I’ll be in my cousin’s office. Come find me when you’re ready to leave.”

  “Will do. And thanks, both for the stand-in bodyguard duty and for everything else, Kier.”

  He grinned and gave me a friendly wink. “De nada.”

  The lunch rush at Nolan’s had been and gone, and the dining room was mostly empty. A couple lingered at a booth in the corner, and Trevor was working diligently, scrubbing down tabletops. I took a seat at the bar and ordered a coffee while I watched him.

  He was obviously lost in thought, his expression troubled, a little crease between his dark brows. When he finally noticed me, it startled him so much that he knocked the salt and pepper shakers off the table he’d been cleaning. They rolled in opposite directions, and he lunged after them. By the time he returned them to the tabletop, Trevor was blushing furiously.

  Finally, he hurried to where I was sitting. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t see you come in. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

  “It’s fine, go ahead and finish your shift.”

  “Oh. Um, it actually ended fifteen minutes ago. I was just tidying up a little.”

  Trevor was standing there awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot, and I put some money on the counter and picked up my coffee. “Come on,” I said, sliding off the barstool. “Let’s go sit at a booth, so we can talk.”

  He followed me across the dining room and slid into a booth across from me, fidgeting nervously. “I didn’t know how to get a hold of you,” he blurted. “Jamie wouldn’t give me your address, he said something about you having a need for security. Then I saw you were making that public appearance, only I got there too late…anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I’m really sorry for making you come all the way down here. I really didn’t want to inconvenience you, Hunter.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Ok. Good.” He hesitated, then reached out and took one of my hands, which had been resting on the table top. He turned it over and put something in my palm, then closed my fingers around it. “I can’t accept this,” he said quietly. I opened my hand to reveal a little bundle of twenties. They were still folded into the neat rectangle I’d made before slipping them in his pocket at Jamie’s brunch.

  “What makes you think I gave this to you?” I asked, trying to play it off.

  “You did. After I found the money, I remembered the way you’d put your hand on my hip when we were at the buffet. At first,” he said, looking down at the table, “I thought you’d touched me like that because you were flirting with me. I guess I hoped that was the case, because I liked you, too. I mean, I like you. Not past tense. Anyway, then I found the money, and I was confused.” He looked up at me from beneath his overgrown dark bangs. “Why did you do that? Why did you slip eighty dollars in my pocket?”

  “Because I thought you could use it.”

  “But…why?”

  “Please don’t be embarrassed, but I saw you put some cookies in your pocket, so I figured money must be kind of tight for you. And, I don’t know. I guess there’s something about you that makes me want to take care of you, Trevor.”

  “Oh.” He looked absolutely mortified. “I just…I mean, they were for someone else, and…oh God, I’m so embarrassed that you saw that. What must you think of me?”

  “I think you’re a sweet guy that’s trying to survive in a big, unforgiving, really expensive city. You think I never snuck seconds at a buffet? Hell, when Cole and I first moved to San Francisco, we used to take zip-top bags to this all-you-can-eat Chinese restaurant over on Geary. We’d go home with pockets full of eggrolls. My point is, you do what you have to do to get by sometimes.”

  He grinned a little. “You didn’t really do that, did you?”

  “We sure as hell did, and got away with it twice. Our mistake was going back a third time. By then, they were on to us, and caught us in the act. Talk about embarrassing. To this day, both Cole and I are banned from Fu Wong’s
Golden Delights Palace. Which is really a shame, because those eggrolls were freaking amazing.”

  “Well, I could go get you some.” He was smiling now.

  “Just don’t forget the zip-top bags, that’s key,” I said, which made him laugh.

  “You’re so nice,” he said. “I was surprised when I found out you’re a big celebrity. Usually, you don’t expect celebrities to be so kind.”

  “I’m not a celebrity in any real sense of the word. I’m just some guy that makes dirty movies.”

  “You’re way more than that. They showed your public appearance on the news. The line was down the block.”

  “That was on the news? I didn’t know that.”

  Trevor nodded. “They said you were raising money for charity. Which, again, shows you’re a nice guy.”

  “Oh. Well, to be honest, the charity part of that was kind of an afterthought. That event was meant to serve another purpose. Only, the guy the police were trying to catch slipped right through everyone’s fingers.” I frowned and took a sip of my coffee.

  “Is someone trying to hurt you? Jamie alluded to something like that when he wouldn’t give me your address.”

  “I have a stalker, and he’s a complete sociopath. He hurt one of my friends, almost killed him, and might have hurt some other people, too. The police can’t seem to find this guy, so I really hoped they’d catch him at that public appearance.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Only if you have a bloodhound in your pocket.”

  “No. Just cookies.” I looked up at him, and he smiled at me.

  I burst out laughing. “Oh yeah. I definitely like you, Trevor.”

  He sat up a little straighter and seemed to gather his courage. Then he blurted, “In that case, would you go out with me?” His confidence waned as quickly as it had appeared, and he tacked on, “I mean, I know it’s a total long-shot, but if I didn’t ask, I’d never forgive myself.”

  I reached across the table and gave his hand a friendly squeeze. “I totally thought about asking you out when I met you, but since then, I’ve started seeing someone. Thank you for asking, though.”