by Smith,T. M.
Tristan cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I’m not telling you to let him go. What I’m saying is remember him, talk about him, but stop mourning him. If you were a woman, Beau, you’d still be wearing the black dress and veil.”
Beau threw his head back and laughed. Tristan grinned, shaking his head. “Now dat der is funny! Could you see me in a dress?”
Tristan laid his hand on Beau’s shoulder, smiling. “Think about it, please.” Beau nodded.
They visited for a little while longer, the session obviously over as the conversation strayed toward backyard barbeques and the revolting shade of red Gabe wanted to paint their bedroom. Beau left with a promise to come to dinner at Tristan, Micah and Gabe’s place and an appointment in two weeks.
He glided easily through the crowded city streets on his motorcycle, pulling into the garage space he rented and locking up his bike before braving the equally crowded sidewalks for the two block walk to his apartment. Beau had initially leased the two story building he now called home not long after moving to New York. When the lease was up the landlord offered him the option to buy, so he did. BB’s bar & grill took up the first floor, with an apartment on the second floor.
Beau popped into the small pack and mail across from the bar where he kept a PO Box, then jogged across the street and up the stairs to his apartment. He tried to call Alma before heading down to the bar, but got her voicemail. They’d been playing phone tag for a couple of weeks now. Between the time difference and their completely different schedules, they rarely got to talk. He needed to be more diligent– maybe he should take a quick trip down to check on her and spend a few days soaking up her attention. She did like to fret over him.
Tossing the keys and mail onto the table by the door, he got his boots off, heading into the bedroom to strip and shower before going down to the bar to do inventory, instead of putting it off until the last minute, like he usually did. He enjoyed his time at the bar when he was alone, the noise of the nightly crowds absent. No music blaring from the juke box in the corner or pool balls clanging in the background. The city was never quiet by any means, but behind the brick walls of his bar, Beau could shut out the world and find a few minutes of peace.
As soon as he walked into the small storage room the memory of William writhing against the wall, his body pliant and completely at Beau’s mercy assaulted him. He had noticed William several times in passing, either at Tristan’s office or in the bar. But the night of the graduation party William wanted to be seen and he made damn sure to leave his impression on Beau’s psyche. It had been so very long since Beau had wanted another man, the pain of losing Izzie leaving him raw and vulnerable for more years than he cared to count. With William standing right in front of him, the sexy man attempting to stake a claim to Beau, it was both exhilarating and frightening. There was a part of him that wanted to let William stake that claim, because that would mean he too, could claim William.
There would always be a darkness looming though, the monkey on his back, the fact that he was HIV positive. He’d watched the man he loved succumb to the virus, the strength and passion that made Beau fall in love with Izaiah slowly withering away as the disease ravaged his body. Knowing that something as simple as a common cold or a case of pneumonia could weaken his immune system badly enough to push his body over the edge had Beau trained to keep everyone in his life at arms-length.
If there was no one there to care for you when you were alive, then there wouldn’t be anyone to destroy if they were the one to survive.
***
The rain started just before dusk so Beau wasn’t surprised the bar was dead that evening. Weeknights weren’t busy to begin with, but a torrential downpour definitely kept the regulars at home. He made a round through the bar, checking that the handful of people in attendance had food and drink before grabbing a wet dishtowel and starting the tedious process of wiping down the mirrors and shelving that held the liquor bottles behind the bar.
The sound of three quarters dropping into the pay slot of the jukebox sounded louder than normal without the usual bodies to buffer the noise. The melody sprang to life, Beau immediately recognizing the song, “Hozier – Take Me to Church”—it was one of his favorites. The obstinate sound of metal dragging over concrete had Beau reflexively cringing.
“I’ll be wit ya in a minute,” he called out, not turning around. Standing on a stepladder, stretching up to the highest shelf to wipe away the dust took pertinence over everything else at the moment.
“Take your time; I’ll wait.”
Sombitch! Beau sighed, lowering his dishcloth and slowly turning to face William. “What brings you out tonight, and in dis weather?” He tried nonchalance. Lord, but he wished he hadn’t turned around. William’s eyes traveled the length of his body, from ass to feet and back up again.
“I thought the bar might be slow with the rain, thought maybe we could talk, get to know each other a little better.” William pursed his lips, the bottom one sticking out, begging to be bitten, nibbled and sucked…Snap out of it! Beau mentally smacked himself in the face.
Slowly, Beau took the two steps down on shaking legs, stepping closer to the bar and leaning toward William. “Now why you wanna be gettin to know me bettah?”
William shrugged. His eyes gleamed, his posture screaming confidence. But the line of sweat dotting his brow gave the impression he was nervous, anxious. Beau narrowed his eyes, staring at William until he broke, eyes darting left then right before honing back in on Beau. Ready to blow the guy off, again, Beau opened his mouth, pausing as William lowered his head slightly and looked up at Beau through those long, dark lashes. “Who can’t use another friend?” The icing on the wrap the big, sexy bartender around my little finger flirtation William was working over on Beau was the tip of his tongue darting out, slowly gliding from one corner of his kissable mouth to the other.
Holy fucking hell! Beau swallowed a groan. Friends, yeah, I can do friends. Like hell I can! He slammed his hand down on the bar, causing William to jump. And goddamn, if the blush that followed wasn’t sexy as hell.
“I usually make acquaintance wit a drink,” Beau told him, pulling out two glasses and everything he would need to make a round of Sazeracs: absinthe, sugar cubes, rye whiskey and Peychaud's Bitters. He poured all the ingredients into a cocktail shaker, taking longer than normal shaking things up, so to speak, one eye on William at all times. The shit-eating grin was gone, replaced with… curiosity?
A whistle from the other side of the bar pulled his attention away from the dark haired man watching him intently, a customer holding an empty beer bottle in the air. Setting the shaker onto the bar mat, he turned and grabbed a couple beers for them. “I be right back.” His eyes briefly met William’s; he nodded once.
Out of the corner of his eye, Beau saw William’s head turn sideways, looking over his shoulder, his eyes at ass level. Just to garner what the response would be, Beau shifted the bulk of his weight to one leg causing his ass to sway. He chuckled softly when he watched William’s dark eyes follow the movement. Beau bussed the table, setting the two full beers in front of the two men that were making googly eyes at each other. Whistling his way back behind the bar, he continued to watch William’s reactions and body language while not making it obvious to the man.
“A’right den, you ready for dat drink?” Beau grabbed the shaker in one hand, the two glasses with the other and sat them down on the bar in front of William.
Inhaling as Beau poured, William gave a low whistle. “Damn, that’s strong. What is that?”
“Drink first, questions later.” He added a lemon wedge to one glass before pushing it toward William.
William’s brow creased, he looked from his glass to Beau’s with a chin nod. “Why don’t you have a lemon?”
“Lemons for pussies,” he responded, the word lemon coming out with an extra vowel when gracing Beau’s Cajun lips.
William smirked, raising the glass to his lips. “Well, here goes
nothing.”
“The hell you say boy, put dat glass down wit you. We gotta make a toast first.” Beau was pretty sure William thought he was crazy judging by the one raised eyebrow and sardonic glare he received. Beau raised his glass high, waiting for William to lift his, toasting once both glasses were in the air. “Laissez les bon temps roulette.”
Beau tossed his shot back, slamming the glass onto the bar upside down, leaning back and hollering. “Woo! Damn, dat was good!”
William followed, knocking back his shot, eyes going wide, sputtering and reaching for the lemon, shoving it into his mouth to try and relieve the burn he felt crawling down his windpipe. Beau laughed out loud, reaching around and smacking him on the back a couple times, hard.
“Holy shit…” William’s eyes were watering. “What the fuck was that? Diesel?” He coughed a couple more times. “Can I get a glass of water?” he asked.
“No.” Beau grabbed a beer, twisting the cap and tossing it over his shoulder before sliding it across the bar to William. “Water no good, beer will cool dat burn.”
“Thanks.” He took a couple swigs and it did, indeed, quench the fire in his gut. “What was that you said a minute ago? Lazy roses?”
Beau laughed again, his long hair falling into his face when his eyes met William’s. “Laissez les bon temps roulette—let the good times roll.”
“I don’t understand half of what you say, and yet I find it so fucking sexy when you go off on a tirade.” William’s eyes were sparkling again and he grinned up at him.
“Yon sèl lang se janm ase.”
“Okay, that was different. What language was that and what did you say?” William leaned closer, his elbows resting on the bar. He seemed to honestly be curious, sincere in wanting to get to know more about Beau. Just give it a chance Beau; you deserve to be happy. Tristan’s words rang in his ears.
“Dat was Haitian Creole, roughly translates to ‘one language is not enough’. I was born and raised in N’awlins Louisiana, spent some time all over the place, up round Baton Rouge. I speak Cajun and three variations of Creole: French, Cajun and Haitian.”
“I can barely speak English some days,” William joked. The look in his eyes changed then, going from wistful and fun to serious and challenging in a split second. “I like listening to you talk, Beau. And I meant what I said, about getting to know you better.”
Beau was thankful for his long hair, bushy beard and the low lighting in the bar. His cheeks felt as hot as the morning sun and he knew if William could see him clearly, he would take note of the effect his words had on Beau.
They stared at each other for a few moments before Beau finally nodded his head, rapping twice on the bar with his knuckles before holding his right hand out to William. “Friends?”
A slow smile formed as William reached for his hand, the warmth and the grip a bit surprising. “Friends… for now.”
Chapter 3 | Misunderstood
“No you didn’t… you’re joking, right?” William stared at Chris, mouth agape.
Chris crossed his fingers over his heart. “Scout’s honor.”
William, Chris, Linc and Dusty were going over the shooting schedule for the next couple of months. When William saw he had a shoot with Jae the following week, he cringed. Micah had shared, in unfortunate detail, the shoot he had with Jae when he first started at All Cocks. So for the first time probably ever, William was not looking forward to a scene. Then Chris told him and Dusty he didn’t think they would have any more issues with Jae.
“You grudge fucked the guy?” Dusty asked.
“Well, grudge fucked sounds pretty harsh, but I guess you could probably call it that.” Chris shrugged.
“He’s goddamn lucky I didn’t beat his ass.” Linc narrowed his eyes. “Telling my man that he was going to bottom for him. Oh hell no—if anyone is going to tap that virgin ass, it’s going to be me.”
They all laughed at that. It was common knowledge at All Cocks that Kris Alen and Linc Larsen were a couple, and that neither of them bottomed on camera. It was something Linc saved for their private life, and Chris had never bottomed for anyone, on or off camera. So William could see why Linc would be pissed at Jae.
“I wasn’t cruel by any means. I just went straight to the fucking, no foreplay or kissing. Pinned his ass to the bed and rode him until he came so hard I thought he passed the fuck out.” Chris shrugged again. “After the fact, I sat down and had a heart to heart with the guy, advising him on proper etiquette and grooming prior to shooting. So, like I said, I don’t think you’ll have any problems out of him next week.”
“Morning, boys,” Andrew muttered, shuffling into the kitchen with one eye sealed shut from sleep, his body on autopilot steering him toward the coffee pot.
“Morning, Mom!” they all shouted in unison. Andrew grabbed a cup with one hand and flipped them off with the other.
“You all be leaving my husband alone.” Victor shuffled into the kitchen looking more disheveled than Andrew. He sidled over to Andrew, leaning down for a quick kiss before pushing him aside with a hip so he could get to the coffee.
“So, we need to have a conversation with you guys.” Andrew came and took a seat at the table, Victor following to sit beside him.
“Is everything okay?” Chris asked.
Andrew attempted to nod and drink his coffee at the same time; it didn’t work out well and he hissed when a couple drops of the steaming drink landed on his leg. “Yes, everything is good, but we are going to have to make some changes in the way we do things.”
Chris and Linc shared a glance. “Go on,” Chris prodded.
“The schedule you are looking at right now lists the last couple of shoots that will be done here at the house. We are going to be filming solely out of the office in the city going forward, aside from shoots on the boat when it’s warmer. The bad news is, we will lose the familiarity and comfort that shows when we do shoots here at the house. The good news is, the other half of the building we lease for All Cocks INC in the city has become available, so we are going to expand and take over the entire building.” Andrew turned to look at Victor, smiling.
“I’m not sure if you are all aware, but Mattie has his heart set on us starting a family. But as long as we are working any of the porn business here in the house, there is no judge that will grant us custody, allow us to adopt or foster children here in our home. It’s very important to Mattie, and therefore, to Victor and I as well.”
No one spoke for a few intense moments, the four of them letting what Andrew had just told them sink in. “What about barbeques and sleep-overs, driving out just to visit?” Dusty asked.
Andrew leaned across the table, taking Dusty’s hand in his. “You’re family, Dusty. All of you are part of our family. That will never change. Any one of you is welcome in our home anytime. We just can’t shoot adult films here anymore, not if we’re going to stand a chance of adopting or fostering a child.”
“As long as I’m not fired, I’m good,” William said with a chuckle.
“Ditto,” Chris and Linc said in unison.
“While we are on subject, we will be advertising for new models soon.” Victor stood and took the few short steps to the coffee pot, grabbing the carafe and bringing it over to the table with him.
Chris agreed with that wholeheartedly. “Yeah, I agree. We’ve lost Jordan and Kory and Dusty is only shooting a couple times a month now. It’s definitely a wise decision to infiltrate some fresh meat to the site, so to speak.”
“I am glad you be agreeing Christopher; I am letting you and Andy take control of this.” Victor passed the carafe to Linc as he spoke.
“And Gabe, right?” Chris asked.
“I’ll call him later today and let him know what the plans are, see if he still wants to be involved behind the scenes. Speaking of lost, Micah won’t be shooting for us anymore. But, he did agree to do modeling for us when needed.” Andrew filled everyone in on that development.
“I think we all
knew that was going to happen as soon as the three of them became an item,” Dusty said, taking the carafe from Linc and filling his cup, then standing and walking over to the fridge to grab the half and half.
Victor made more coffee while Andrew started a pan of sausage cooking for biscuits and gravy. Mattie eventually joined them in the kitchen, drawn into the fold by the alluring scent of fresh-baked goodness. The seven of them settled in at the large table, eating and mapping out a plan for moving anything to do with the business out of the home and into the office in the city.
Andrew called Gabe to fill him in on the recent developments, both sides of the call winding up on speakerphone. Plans were solidified to get as many people as possible out to the house at the end of the month and rent a moving truck to haul everything from the house to the office. “We can order pizza and provide beer after as a thank you to anyone that helps,” Andrew told them.
“Sounds good to me. I’ll make some calls after we hang up, see if I can round up some muscle for the heavy lifting.” Tristan’s voice crackled over the phone, as Micah laughed in the background.