by John Simpson
By the time Alex worked his way out of the Blue Moon, he saw Clay nearing his car. Clay must have run all the way to get to Alex’s house so quickly.
Running away from me. “Damn!” Alex shouted to no one in particular.
He pushed his hand through his hair, turned around in a circle trying to think what to do, and began to walk back to his house. What could he do? There was no way to explain away what had happened either that evening or three weeks prior. How was he going to make things right with his potential mate?
But he and Clay didn’t have an exclusive agreement that would require him to remain faithful. After all, wasn’t it Clay who said he also had the right to play with someone this summer if he wanted? Why was Alex a bad guy for falling for one twink with a tight ass for an afternoon? It’s not like he was married or partnered with Clay yet. So what exactly had he done wrong?
By the time he got home, Alex was miserable. Even though he wasn’t Clay’s partner, he felt shitty for having done the twinkie. He remembered thinking about Clay just before he gave in to his lust, and now he knew he should have listened to the little voice inside that had told him not to partake of the available Kevin.
He waited for another five minutes to be sure that Clay had time to get home and called his house. The phone rang and rang, and Alex wasn’t really surprised that Clay didn’t pick up. He tried two more times without success and finally gave up for the night.
Anger overtook him briefly as he felt that he was being punished for nothing. In fact, Clay had given him permission to play this summer, so he’d know for sure if a relationship with Clay was what he really wanted. He’d done nothing wrong. He had a fleeting urge to return to the Blue Moon, grab Kevin, bring him back to the house, and fuck the living hell out of him. But, after a few moments, the urge passed, and all he wanted was to make things right between him and Clay.
WHEN Clay got home, he slammed the door closed after entering his condo. He threw his keys across the room, took off his shirt, kicked off his shorts, and decided to stay in his underwear. He made a drink, walked out onto his dark balcony, and sat down. He heard the phone ring, and figuring it was Alex, he had no urge to answer it. The more the phone rang, the madder Clay became.
“Fuck him! I tested you, Alex, and you failed. I knew you couldn’t keep your hands off the boys around here, and sure enough, you nailed one of them. How many others have you had up to your bedroom? I figured you couldn’t be happy with an old man when you could drink from the fountain of youth, you fucker!” Clay said out loud. When he took another gulp from his drink and set it down, a voice came out of the dark.
“Clay, is that you?”
“What? Who’s that, and where the hell are you?” Clay asked, looking around.
“It’s Paul from Starbucks. My husband Jim and I sat with you and Alex that night you were fighting, and I’m on the next balcony as it turns out.”
Clay got up, leaned over the rail, and found the older guy from Starbucks sitting on the next balcony.
“I thought that unit was empty,” Clay said.
“It was, until we closed on it yesterday. We moved in today. We decided to rent out our house near the beach and live in a much smaller space. This is easy to take care of, and no maintenance.”
“So, you guys are my neighbors now, and you heard me talking out loud to myself. Sorry, but I do that when I’m agitated.”
“Not a problem. What’s he done now?” Paul asked.
“Ugh, don’t know if I wanna get into it. Is Jim home?”
“No, he’s visiting his brother in New York for a few days. So, it’s just me for now.”
“Well, you might as well come over, and we’ll sit out here and talk,” Clay invited.
“If you’re sure you want the company. I don’t want to be a bother to you,” Paul offered.
“No, come on over. It’ll save me from talking to myself!”
Paul chuckled and said, “I’ll be right over.”
Clay walked inside, dressed, and waited for a knock on the door. Clay went and opened it, shook hands with Paul, and they went back out to the balcony. Paul had brought a large iced tea with him, so Clay didn’t offer him anything to drink. When they got settled on the balcony, Clay’s mood improved slightly.
“Sorry again for talking to myself. I’m just so mad and frustrated.”
“That’s a bad combination of emotions. Tell me what he did. I’ve probably already been through the same thing with Jim.”
“Alex wanted us to become a couple during the winter, and I told him that I wanted to wait until he had experienced a summer here at Rehoboth because of all the young guys that would be all over the place. He finally agreed to wait until September for an answer from me, and I gave him the summer to see if he could settle down with an old man like me.”
“Stop it. You’re not old.”
“Well, I’ll be fifty shortly, and to me that’s getting old,” Clay replied.
“Well, wait for another ten, fifteen years, and then maybe you can say you’re old.”
“Anyway, I wanted to see if he could resist all the hot stuff around town while waiting for me, and I found out tonight that he couldn’t. A young thing with an ass to die for threw his arms around Alex, and from what he said, they clearly had sex recently. The look on Alex’s face alone told me all that I needed to know. Recently, Alex and I discussed the tourists, and he implied that he hadn’t gotten to know any of them beyond speaking to them on the beach. Obviously, he did a lot more than speak to this kid.”
“I see. Sex and money, that’s what all couples—gay or straight—fight about. Did you give him the season with the understanding that you were to remain faithful to each other and not enjoy the local summertime flavor?” Paul asked.
“Well, not exactly, but it was implied.”
“Remember what I said to you at Starbucks? I said the key to staying together was love and communication. If you’re making understandings with another man you care about, you damn well better be plain and communicative about what you’re talking about. What you thought he was implying might not have been what he intended at all. Tomorrow is the first of July, and as far as you know, he’s only taken one younger man to his bed. Not exactly out whoring around, is he?” Paul asked. “Hell, he could have been the one seduced!”
“One or a hundred, what’s the difference? He couldn’t resist the temptation, and he went for it. How can I trust him not to succumb again?”
“Do you have an iron-clad understanding with him?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Clay, I think you’re overreacting to a situation that has hurt you. I understand that it cut you deeply to see Alex with a hot, young guy, but you really have no right to punish Alex for it. If you didn’t agree in plain language not to fool around, then he’s done nothing wrong. He also may have interpreted your conversation as permission to taste the honey occasionally. Did you say anything that could be construed as an okay to get with a guy?”
“I don’t think so. Well, wait.” Clay paused. “Now that I think about it, I did put it like this: I think it’s reasonable to let you have your freedom this summer to screw whoever you want to without having me around as a ball and chain. I reserve the same right of course. I guess that does give him an okay, huh?”
“You plainly said he could screw around, and in fact, said you could do the same thing! How can you be pissed off at him?” Paul asked incredulously.
“Well, even though I said that, I didn’t actually expect him to do it! After all, I haven’t been with anyone, and I have a steady flow of guys in and out of my bookstore all the time now. It would be easy to allow myself to be picked up. Course, no one has tried either. Do you think I’m in the wrong here?”
“In a word, yes. You gave him his freedom so that he could see what it was like to be single, and when he took a bite of the apple, you freaked out on him. This is a situation clearly of your own making. He wanted to commit to you, and you’re the one
that prevented him from doing it. Now, you want his scalp for it. That’s not the way to make a relationship work.”
Clay sat silently for a few minutes going over the day he and Alex had that conversation, and he had to admit, Paul was right. He had practically issued Alex a license to hunt in the park, and now that he’d bagged one, Clay had no right to be angry over it.
“I guess you’re right, Paul. I’m a moron. I should have taken the chance and said yes to his proposal and none of this may have happened, although I can’t know that for sure. Would he have still done this kid even if we were a couple? I’ll never know.”
“Does Alex love you?”
“I don’t know. We’ve only briefly talked about our feelings, and we agreed that we both feel something for each other. But the word love has never been used. Why?”
“Acting this way, you’ll never get to know if he loves you, now will you? I remember you said that you didn’t have much experience with men. Have you always been gay or did you come to the conclusion late in life?”
“No, I’ve always been gay. I knew that from the age of six forward. I just never had the self-confidence, social ability, or freedom to explore a relationship. My experience with men was limited to a rather unsavory routine that didn’t leave any room for finding out anything about the other guy.”
“I see. So, what you’re saying is that you had some sexual interaction with other men but no emotional involvement?”
“Yeah, that would be right on the money. Alex would be my first, and I’m about to turn fifty. Sad, isn’t it? What a life I’ve lived… or not lived, as the case may be.”
“I might agree with your feelings on this, but it seems to me that you have an outstanding chance at being with someone I think is a really good man. I think you’d be very secure with Alex as your husband or even just a boyfriend. It’s not a matter of having a sexual partner on call as it were, but a matter of affection, emotional commitment, and security. I have little doubt, even after only one meeting, that you would have all those things with Alex. Sure, he might have taken a roll in the hay with a little cutie, but you’ll never find him making any commitment to a young guy like that.”
“You think?”
“How old is Alex?”
“He’ll be forty-nine in September.”
“Okay, basically, you guys are the same age. That gives you quite a bit in common. What could he possibly have in common with the guy you saw him with tonight?”
“Sex, I guess.”
“And that’s it. You can’t build a lifetime together based on sex, no matter how good it is. You base it on shared values, common goals, love, and a future that works well for you both. Tell me that you could actually see Alex becoming a husband to one of these kids.”
“No, I guess not. You make a lot of sense, and my lack of experience in this area really shows, doesn’t it?”
“Bright and clear. My advice, for what it’s worth, is that you put this dalliance behind you immediately, never bring it up again, and move forward with Alex as a couple. If you don’t, he’ll continue to bed the occasional young stud while he looks for his life partner. If you wanna lose him, then you’re going about it the right way. For men, sex is just that, sex. It’s not an affair of the heart. It’s an affair of the loins.”
“You’re right. How do you suggest I smooth things over with Alex?”
“Well, whatever punishment he gave you the last time you fucked up might be given again if you asked for it. If he agrees, you do whatever it is and move on!”
“Oh dear….”
“Well, it’s been a pleasure talking with you. I still can’t believe we’re neighbors! I promise I won’t be a pest. You can sit out here without having to worry about Jim or me listening to your every word. I’ll put a radio out on the balcony, and when one of us is out there, we’ll turn it on real low so that you know.”
“Thanks, Paul, but that isn’t necessary. You sit out anytime you feel like it, and don’t give it a second thought. I’ve enjoyed talking to you, and you’re a wise man. Maybe with you coaching me, I might land a husband after all!”
“Good night, Clay. You’re a good-looking man with a great personality. Alex would be just as lucky to have you as a partner as you would be having him.”
“Good night, see you again soon, I’m sure.”
Clay showed his new neighbor out the door, closed it, and began to think. What should he do to make up for making a scene? He looked at his watch and saw that it was almost eleven o’clock. He decided not to call Alex since it was getting late. He’d do whatever he was going to do tomorrow. He went to bed that night feeling both foolish and afraid that Alex wouldn’t forgive him a second time. It was to be a long night.
ALEX drank two more scotch on the rocks while thinking about what had happened. The fact that Clay had refused to answer the phone made him angry all over again. How can you make things right if the other guy won’t even talk to you? Alex realized that when he thought he might be losing Clay, feelings of love began to surface in his heart. Sometimes you don’t know you love someone until you think you’re going to lose them.
It was getting late, and Alex decided to turn in a little early. He’d try and sleep so that he didn’t have to think about the trouble he had gotten himself into with Clay. He tossed and turned for an hour without even becoming tired. He got up and took a hot shower, hoping that it would relax him enough that he might be able to fall asleep.
Eventually it worked, though his sleep was fitful, and when he woke the next morning, the sheets were all tangled up and the comforter was on the floor along with the pillows.
Chapter Fifteen
AFTER untangling his feet from the sheets, Alex got up and showered again. His slight mood of depression wasn’t helped by the shower, but at least he felt clean. He threw on an old pair of boxer shorts and went down to the kitchen where he put the morning pot of coffee on.
When he looked at the clock, he was surprised that he had gotten up just after seven. He usually slept in until at least nine o’clock.
“Great, this is gonna be a shitty day. I can feel it already,” he said aloud while watching the coffee pot brew his morning beverage. He poured some orange juice but didn’t bother to cook anything. He wasn’t hungry, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to eat by lunch either. The problem that he had avoided last night was there waiting for him when he woke up today. He had only put off having to deal with the situation.
After pouring his coffee, he took his cup and the juice and went to his favorite chair. He sat down next to the window with no more desire to look out onto the sidewalk in front of his house. He had no urge to check out the young guys at all, though he usually enjoyed the parade of smooth, toned flesh. All he was thinking about was how he was going to make things right with Clayton. Should he send flowers? No, that wouldn’t do any good. If anything, they’d end up sailing over his balcony railing and falling onto the ground.
Come on, Alex, you know men and how to handle them. Why can’t you figure this out? What’s so different about this screw up compared to other fixes he had gotten into with a host of guys over the past thirty years?
Alex sat up straight in the chair when it dawned on him. Is this what real love felt like? Is this what it did to a normally in-charge, confident man? Was he in love with Clayton Anderson? He began to get really nervous now that he realized that the man he might have lost over a trick might be the man he was meant to find happiness with. Now he knew he had to make things right with Clayton, or he was afraid he’d spend his life alone.
AN HOUR later, Clay woke up and went through his morning routine without any energy. He dreamed the entire night about evil young guys with virgin asses throwing condoms at Alex Winston. That was his man, and he had been taken off the circuit. But in the cold daylight, he knew that Alex hadn’t been taken out of circulation—because Clay had been afraid to commit to him, even though he knew Alex was the man he could be in love with for the rest o
f his life.
He was still no closer to solving the problem when he sat down for coffee. After the second sip, it hit him like a lightning bolt! He knew how to make things right. He got up and went over to the phone and dialed Alex’s number.
“Good morning, Clay,” Alex said when he answered.
“Morning, Alex. Are you going to be home around one o’clock today?”
“Why? You have something to give back that I gave to you?” Alex asked sadly.
“Are you going to be home, and can I come over then?”
“Yes, I’ve nothing planned for today. Care to tell me the purpose of the visit?”
“You’ll have to wait to see.”
“Alright, see you at one,” Alex said. He hung up, convinced that Clay was going to bring back the small presents he had given him for helping him pick out his art, or just because.
CLAY hung up and smiled. He had a few hours to get up the courage to put his plan into action. Suddenly, nothing was more important than getting his man back and setting the course for the rest of their lives. To kill some time, Clay decided to go to the supermarket and buy food and mixers for the bar. If his plan worked, he’d be having a regular guest over along with his new neighbors, one of whom had helped Clay to see the light.
ALEX poured his third cup of coffee of the day and paced around his house. He began checking for any signs that cleaning needed to be done since Clay was coming over—possibly for the last time. He decided to run the vacuum cleaner and dust because neither had been done in two weeks. When he was satisfied that everything was in order, he went out for a run.
His path took him up onto the boardwalk, and he hardly paid attention to anyone that he passed. When he gave the water a quick glance, he didn’t bother looking at who was on the beach. When he ran out of boardwalk to run on, he realized he was at “Poodle Beach,” which forced him to stop. He ran in place for a moment and turned around to run back to his house, but before he could take off, someone called to him.