by Lydia Nyx
“I’m sorry,” Zane said again, sitting up straighter. “I didn’t mean to get shitty with you, Ian. It really has been a long day. And if we’re going to tell stories, why don’t I tell some about you?” Zane smiled genuinely.
Ian smiled back at him. “Make sure you tell the one where you saw me naked in the shower and I’m positively huge.”
Laughter erupted, and Zane attempted to relax.
Zane told a few stories, but Ian took over the conversation again before long, which Zane expected and didn’t mind. Ian had always been the talker and Zane the laid back one. Ian worked the subject around to his sexuality, and Zane saw him readying his guns before he even pulled them out.
“Now see, this side of the table has the right idea,” he told Zane. He gestured to Cristiano and Elliot. “They know who the fairer sex really is.”
“Actually, I’m bisexual too,” Davey said.
Exactly what Ian had been digging for.
“Oh!” Ian’s eyes got brighter. “Then I guess poor little Zane is out in the cold.”
“Screw y’all,” Zane replied. “That just leaves all the hot girls for me tonight.”
Ian, Cristiano, and Elliot laughed. Davey smirked, looking at him from the corner of his eye.
“I think that’s why Zane and I have always been so close,” Ian said.
“Because you’re gay?” Davey asked. He sat back, slumped elegantly in his chair, and crossed his legs. At least Zane could now see he and Ian weren’t touching under the table.
“Yes.” Ian looked at Zane. “There’s never been any competition between us. When he’s flirting with a girl he doesn’t have to worry about me trying to steal her. I just take her brother home.”
Laughter again. Zane finished off his orange juice and poured some more from the carafe in the middle of the table. Orange juice was served everywhere in Cairo — fresh squeezed, natural, nothing like the sugary, processed crap back home.
“Do you go out together often?” Davey asked.
When Zane set the carafe down, Ian grabbed it up and refilled Davey’s glass.
“Oh yeah,” Ian said and offered the full glass to Davey, which he took with a little smile. “We go to clubs all the time when we’re both home.”
“Gay clubs?” Davey asked and looked at Zane.
Zane got the impression Davey wanted him to lose his cool — he wanted some dramatic reaction to the glass refilling, some sign of jealousy. He could keep dreaming. Zane wasn’t going to let his composure be so easily compromised.
“Sometimes.” Ian shrugged. “He tolerates them for me, and I tolerate a night of strippers for him.”
“I can’t imagine strait-laced Zane in a gay bar,” Davey said.
“Neither can I,” Cristiano piped up. “Must be a sight.”
“I go!” Zane said defensively. “God, it’s not that big a deal.”
“I help him out.” Ian leaned toward Davey with a smile. “If someone hits on him, I pretend to be his boyfriend.”
Davey laughed. “That is demented on so many levels. You look so alike. People must realize you’re related!”
“That makes them run away even faster.” Ian grinned. “We should go.” He swatted Davey’s dangling foot. “There’s gotta be some hidden away in this city.”
“It’s illegal here,” Zane said. “You’re not gonna find a gay club in Cairo, Ian.”
“I know it’s illegal.” Ian whipped out his cell phone. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t certain places you can go.”
“What, are you calling up the queer hotline?” Davey asked.
Ian laughed uproariously. Cristiano laughed as well, a crystalline, tinkling sound in comparison.
“Of course he is!” Cristiano said, smiling at Davey. “We have a special number to keep connected!”
“Actually,” Ian still chuckled at Davey’s joke, which Zane didn’t find that funny, “I’m gonna look it up on the internet. If that doesn’t help, I’ll call a friend.” Ian got to his feet. “Be back in a few.”
He put a hand on Davey’s shoulder as he went around him, then patted Zane on the back as he left. Zane looked down at his plate.
Cristiano cleared his throat. “Elliot, why don’t we use the facilities while Ian is gone?” The universal code for “let’s leave these two alone.”
Elliot slid out of the booth, and Cristiano followed. Cristiano touched Zane’s shoulder as they passed: universal code for “hang in there, jealous fool.”
After they left, Zane and Davey were silent, Zane staring at his plate and Davey sipping his orange juice.
“Damn,” Davey finally said. “The way he looks at me, it feels like his hands are all over me.”
Zane winced but said nothing.
“It must be genetic. He fucks me with his eyes just like you do.”
Once again, Zane didn’t answer, willing neither to defend nor incriminate his brother.
“Your voice has changed,” Davey said.
“What?” Zane looked up.
“Your hillbilly accent is coming out.”
“It’s because of Ian. Usually I don’t have it because I’ve been in California long enough, but when I’m around him and hear traces of it, well.” He shrugged. “Listen, you can drop the act. I’m not going to choose between you and my brother.”
“There, you did it again.” Davey pointed around his glass. “You said ‘mah’ instead of ‘my.’”
“I don’t give a fuck what I said!” He glanced around at the other diners and lowered his voice. “Just knock it the fuck off.”
“Knock what off? What am I doing?”
“Trying to make me jealous. It’s not going to work. He’s my brother, and I love him. I refuse to put anyone above him.”
Davey snorted and pushed his hair off his shoulder. “If you’re jealous, it’s not because I’m trying to make you that way.” He took a drink, eyeing Zane over the rim of his glass, then lowered it and licked his lips. “Besides, if you are, who fucking cares? Last I checked, we weren’t married.”
“Exactly. Knock it the fuck off, because it’s pathetic.”
“We won’t talk about what’s pathetic right now.”
Zane seethed silently. He knew he should just tell Ian to back off, but doing so would require an earth-shattering revelation and a long, deep conversation. He would also have to admit to Davey he was being irrational and projecting his own fear.
They didn’t speak again until Ian came back to the table. He slid back into the booth, holding his phone triumphantly in the air.
“Found a place!” He settled into the seat, grinning at Davey. “Do you drink?”
Davey snorted. “Do I drink, Zane?”
“Fuck if I know.”
“I hope the other two will come along.” Ian glanced at the empty booth beside him. “Cristiano is an interesting fella. A little odd though. I’ve seen his type in Hollywood. Stylish, classy, elusive. They’re usually hiding something.”
“I think Elliot is a bit jealous of you, Ian,” Davey said and looked at Zane. “He’s pathetic like that.”
Ian smirked, pushing a hand into the pocket of his jacket. He drew out a pack of cigarettes.
“I’m not trying to steal Cristiano away from him,” Ian said. He turned the pack over and shook two cigarettes out. “I prefer my men a little sturdier — never went for the willowy and winsome look.” He grinned and held a cigarette out to Davey. “You smoke, darling?”
Davey held a hand up and smiled. “Only after sex.”
Now Davey was being deliberately antagonizing.
Ian withdrew the cigarette. “I’ll have to make sure I pick up a fresh pack for later then,” he said.
Zane got up and went to join Cristiano and Elliot in the bathroom. Cristiano stood at the sinks, blowing his nose, and looked strangely startled to see him. He tossed the tissue in a trashcan and started washing his hands.
“You all right?” Cristiano asked softly. They were alone.
“Yeah.”
Zane walked over to a sink. He turned on the water, leaned over, and splashed some on his face. He yanked some towels from the dispenser beside him and dried his cheeks, Cristiano gazing at him in the mirror.
“Where’s Elliot?” Zane asked.
“He went out for some air. Would you like to talk about it?”
“No.” Zane chuckled humorlessly and wadded up the towels. “No, I wouldn’t.” He tossed them toward the trashcan. They missed.
Cristiano nodded. “It’s hard to talk about something when you aren’t even sure how you feel about it to begin with.”
Cristiano dried his hands and walked over to Zane. To Zane’s mild surprise, he reached up and smoothed his hair behind his ear. Cristiano’s dark eyes were so very sympathetic, without a trace of mockery or contempt in them. Zane stared at him a moment, so many thoughts rolling around inside his head he wasn’t sure how to sort them. Anger simmered just under the surface of everything else, and he wanted to act out like a spited child. He leaned forward.
“Ah.” Cristiano stopped him with a finger against his lips. “Caro mio, that’s not the way to fix this. Two wrongs don’t make a right.”
Zane drew back, heat flaring in his cheeks. That was fucking stupid, he admonished himself.
Cristiano lowered his hand and smiled. “I’m flattered, though.”
Zane turned and headed for the door. Going out, he looked back at Cristiano, still standing at the sinks. Cristiano smiled again, those dark eyes meeting his, despite his protest a certain heat burning in their depths. Zane hurried out before the look had a chance to travel the length of his spine.
After some convincing, Elliot and Cristiano agreed to come to the bar Ian had found. They were all worried about raids by the sex police, but Ian assured them the place catered mostly to foreigners and the police left the patrons alone. Davey rode with Elliot and Cristiano in their car, and Ian rode with Zane.
“God, Davey is something else,” Ian said as they crawled through the traffic-congested streets. Zane tried to concentrate on the hellish, organic mess of cars that paid no heed to traffic laws and continuously blared their horns.
“If you say so,” Zane said.
“So fucking hot,” Ian sighed, apparently so smitten he was oblivious to the chaos around them. “I’m sure you haven’t noticed.”
Zane flexed his fingers on the wheel. “He’s all right.”
Ian snorted. “All right is an understatement. He’s the kind of guy could make you forget all other guys exist. That’s ‘settling down material,’ as Momma says.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“I know enough. He’s smart, witty. Such a sharp fucking wit. And so casual. So easy in his skin. Have you noticed that?”
“I guess.”
“He’s a ball of fire. He sets me on fire.” Ian chuckled. “God, I wonder what he’s like in bed?”
Zane brought the car to an abrupt stop at a light. They were packed in tight, encased in noise and heat and fumes.
“Sorry,” Ian said. He smirked and whacked Zane gently on the arm. “Am I freaking you out?”
“No.” Zane looked in the mirror to see if Elliot had stayed behind them. “Like I said, it’s just been a long day.”
“Yeah…” Ian seemed entirely oblivious to Zane’s words or mood. “I tell you what though, I’m damn well gonna find out what he’s like in bed.”
Ian turned and looked through the back window and waved. Somehow the others had managed to stay on their bumper. Zane saw Davey and Cristiano wave back. Elliot sat glowering behind the wheel.
“You wanna put a bet on it?” Ian asked as he turned back around, grinning at Zane. “Like we used to? We’ll wager dinner tomorrow night on it. If I get him in the sack tonight, you’re buying.”
“I think we’re shooting tomorrow night.” Zane looked up desperately at the light, willing the color to change. Everyone around them must have felt the same, as they were honking and yelling like their commotion would make the signal change faster.
Harry’s Pub, the bar they went to, was loud, crowded, and looked exactly like an English pub, down to the dim lighting, high tables, armchairs, and huge paintings of London on the walls. The armed guards outside made Zane nervous but they weren’t accosted going in. The crowd inside was cosmopolitan and eclectic. There were even women there, a rare sight to see out and about in Cairo, and they actually served booze, unlike a lot of entertainment spots.
Zane went straight for the bar. Elliot joined him, and they tossed back a few shots of whiskey together. Davey and Ian ordered drinks and started mingling. Cristiano tagged after them.
“I know he’s your brother,” Elliot said, speaking loudly to be heard over the cacophony of voices and music, “but if he keeps flirting with Cristiano, there’s gonna be a fight. It wasn’t very nice of you to throw Cristiano in front of him, you asshole.”
Davey stood nearby. His jacket was off and hanging on the back of Zane’s chair. He and Ian were talking to a group of well-dressed, attractive young men.
“He’s not interested in Cristiano,” Zane said dully. “And I got my punishment already.”
Zane threw back another shot and winced as the alcohol burned his throat — not so much now, though. The taste and heat were starting to fade. Ian said something close to Davey’s ear. Davey smiled.
Elliot looked at Zane and then ordered up another round.
Elliot eventually got up and went to the bathroom, and Zane sat alone at the bar, nursing a beer between shots. He had his back to the others, unable to watch. Someone slid into Elliot’s seat, and Zane looked up to see a handsome, dark-haired man wearing a very tight, white shirt underneath a slick gray sport coat.
“Are you American?” The man asked, with a thick accent. He leaned toward Zane and flashed him a smile. He had very white teeth. “I thought I heard your accent earlier. Anyone ever tell you that you look like a movie star?”
Zane considered the ways he could answer — and also the possibility the man could be part of a sting — but he felt hands on his shoulders just then, and his brother leaned over him.
“Hi there,” Ian said. He reached over Zane and grabbed his beer. After taking a drink, he looked at the young man, who sat back, eyeing Ian. “Who’s your new pal?” Ian asked. He put the beer down and grabbed Zane’s cigarettes off the bar.
“Oh, a real nice guy, thinks I look like a movie star.”
Ian laughed, high-pitched, as he tucked a cigarette between his lips.
The man rose to his feet. “Sorry for intruding.” He slid off into the crowd, and Zane breathed an inward sigh of relief.
“I feel so insulted,” Zane said and handed his lighter over his shoulder to Ian. “He could have at least said a director instead of a movie star.”
“That would be a terrible pick-up line.” Ian lit his cigarette and handed the lighter back. He blew the smoke out. “When did you fucking start smoking again, by the way?”
“I didn’t want to, trust me. You can blame Davey.”
“Oh my God.” Ian seemed to grow giddy at the sound of his name. “I’m think I’m gonna fuck him, Zane. I gotta stand here a minute, you don’t mind, do you? I ‘accidentally’ brushed his ass and I’m a little excited.”
Zane grimaced and took a drink of his beer. He really needed to say something, but the words caught in his throat, nearly choking him. Not the time or place, and Davey would get too much satisfaction out of it.
“Where’d he go?” Zane asked.
“To the bathroom. Maybe I oughta follow. Take him by surprise.”
“I don’t think you should take a risk like that.” Zane passed his beer back to him. “Come on, I’ll order another.”
The others joined them a short time later. Zane ordered up several rounds of shots — getting drunk preferable to staying sober and watching his brother practically licking Davey. Cristiano became drunk very quickly, to the point that he laughed at everything and nearly fell off his
stool several times. Zane drank until he landed in a nice, warm place where the world looked bright and out of focus.
Leaving the pub several hours later, Ian had to hold Zane up and Elliot hauled Cristiano along behind them. Zane and Cristiano were singing a drinking song Zane had taught him, boisterously loud and off-key.
“God, it’s a good thing some of us aren’t alcoholics,” Davey said. “Somebody has to drive your wrecked asses back to the hotel.”
“I’ll meet you back there,” Elliot said, trying to keep Cristiano on his feet. “If I’m late it’s because we had to stop to puke.”
Zane got in the back of his car. Davey drove, and Ian sat up front with him, not on his side but more toward the middle. Zane willed himself to pass out, but sweet oblivion wouldn’t come.
The longest car ride of Zane’s life commenced. He tried to distract himself by singing some more and staring out at the still-heavy traffic with his vision slowly going in and out of focus. However, his gaze kept returning to the front seat.
Ian played with Davey’s hair and kissed his neck. He whispered something in his ear, something with the word “gorgeous” included. Zane also clearly heard the words “suck your cock” at one point. Zane wanted to scream. Davey stayed focused on the road, and Zane couldn’t see his face. He wanted to tell his brother to quit distracting Davey in the insane traffic or they were all going to die. That, at least, would sound like a valid reason to interfere, but for some reason he couldn’t get himself to say anything at all.
They arrived at the hotel at the same time as Elliot and Cristiano. Elliot pulled Cristiano out, who waved and shrieked excitedly, “Hello Zane!”
Zane waved back, but had a hard time smiling despite his inebriation. Cristiano yelled something in Italian and Ian cracked up. Davey looked flushed, arms crossed, avoiding Zane’s gaze.
They shared an elevator upstairs. Cristiano kept wobbling and speaking in a mixture of English and Italian against Elliot’s shoulder. Elliot shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. Davey stood silent, facing the doors. Zane watched Ian’s hand as he caressed Davey’s hip, possessive, marking his claim for the night.