A Still, Small Voice

by D. W. Marchwell

  “I promise nothing shall befall the ethereal and enigmatic Felicity Harridan.” Noah was referring to Aiden’s drag name du jour. Noah had chosen it before Aiden had chosen the one Noah eventually received, and thought the description of “Happy Bitch” was incredibly spot on.

  “Eat your ice cream, Mauna,” Aiden said with a smile. “Nothing cures a broken heart like a little Ben & Jerry’s.”

  Noah took hold of his spoon and dug into his Chocolate Fudge Brownie, feeling a little better. Since he wasn’t teaching anymore, Noah would have the time to pursue anything and everything that interested him. Noah was basically free to pursue his interest in photography when he wouldn’t be in school, and Paul was quickly becoming just another bump in the road of Noah’s pothole-riddled love life. Aiden had said earlier in the evening that there would come a day when Noah would look back on all of this and wonder what the hell he’d been thinking. And Noah clung to that thought, that hope, with more determination than he’d ever clung to anything before.

  Chapter Seven

  “WELL, they weren’t working an hour ago, so you’ll have to forgive me for not just taking your word for it.” Aiden fixed Greg, the beleaguered gofer whose name Noah had given to Aiden at least a dozen times, with a mighty stare and offered a quick wave. “Go, now. I’ll be there in a minute to see if you’re still fucking it up.”

  It was the night of the big debut for the new material, and Aiden, as usual, was rapidly progressing past diva mode and into outright bitchiness. Luckily, he only got this way once or twice a year, whenever they changed the act a little. Noah made sure that the changes were always minor due to what he’d begun to refer to as The Towering Inferno of 2007. It had been Aiden’s idea to make all of the changes to the show, assuring everyone and anyone that he would be fine. Of course, he had almost come completely unhinged, and the debut had had to be postponed for over a month. Oscar and Noah looked over at their—normally—calm and composed friend. “Aiden, why don’t I get you something to drink, like, say a vodka martini with a ketamine chaser?”

  “I will not apologize for trying to maintain some sort of integrity to this show.” Aiden waved one hand at the door while using the other to finish applying his mascara. “That little twink is going to give me palpitations if he doesn’t start paying attention. And I do not look good in hospital gowns.”

  “But just think,” Noah announced as he slicked his hair back with gel and applied the base coat of makeup that would hide the splotchy dark shadows of his beard. “You’ll meet doctors!” Noah laughed and looked over at Oscar, who wore an equally amused expression. Noah couldn’t think of anything to say to Oscar. Without Aiden’s easy charm, Noah felt immediately awkward and out of sorts.

  “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Oscar? Could I ask a favor?” Noah reached down to his black leather backpack and fished out his camera case.

  “Anything,” Oscar said, his face serious. He came over to sit beside Noah, and in the bright, harsh light of the makeup mirror, Noah could see that Oscar had the most incredible skin. It was flawless, the dark shadow of a beard forming along and under the square jaw. Noah forgot what he was going to say and then felt the camera in his hand. He’d never noticed until now that Oscar’s eyes weren’t green at all but more of a turquoise color.

  “I was thinking of having new posters made,” Noah said as he hoisted the camera case and quickly opened it. “And I was hoping that I could impose upon you to take a few shots tonight. You know, of the new show.”

  “Of course,” Oscar said, nodding his head and reaching for the camera. “I was going to get a Nikon, but then I finally chose the Canon because it seemed a little easier to find the kinds of accessories I need for doing nature studies.”

  “You like photography?” Noah wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. Photography seemed like the perfect hobby for someone so patient and introverted.

  “Marcus got me interested in it when we were in high school.”

  Noah thought of Marcus, who, along with Oscar, his husband, had owned and run the bar. Everyone had been completely stunned to learn of Marcus’s death following routine knee surgery. Noah had never known much about them other than that they always seemed to be happiest when the other was in the same room. They were drawn to each other like magnets, like they each supplied something vital and life-sustaining to the other, something that neither could survive without for more than ten minutes.

  “I’m quite partial to nature studies.”

  “Really?” Noah swiped the blood-red lipstick over his lips quickly and mashed them together. “I guess I can see that about you. You seem like a person who loves nature and peace and quiet.”

  “What about you?”

  “I really like those rare shots of an animal skittering away at the slightest noise or of a butterfly in flight or a field full of horses and colts.” Noah checked his face one more time in the mirror and stood, pulling the tuxedo jacket from the back of his chair. “I’m still not very good, but I do find it very relaxing.”

  Noah heard Aiden’s voice just outside the makeshift dressing room and found he was annoyed at the interruption; he was enjoying his discussion with Oscar.

  “I’ll leave you to it, then,” Oscar said, repeating himself.

  Noah opened his mouth, wanting to say something, anything, that would ensure a follow-up conversation, but his mind was a complete blank. He watched as Oscar pulled open the door and exited, the empty doorframe filled quickly with Aiden’s big hair and heavy makeup, highlighting what Noah had long ago come to recognize as his pissed-off face. “If you don’t calm down soon, you’re not going to be any good to me, and then I’ll have to do the whole show myself.”

  “Please,” Aiden grunted, “like you have any comedic timing at all.”

  Noah smiled to himself. He loved that Aiden was so predictable, loved that all it would ever take was threatening him with the loss of the attention he thrived on. He stood in the doorway, fixing his tuxedo jacket, admiring his Marlene Dietrich-esque appearance and making sure everything was in place, glancing up now and then to see Aiden taking deep breaths.

  “Okay, I’m calm and I’m becoming Felicity. I’m finding her sense of humor, her walk, her talk.”

  Noah found himself tuning out, his attention more drawn to the sight of Oscar standing in his office, his back to Noah and Aiden. Noah suddenly found himself quite mesmerized by the broad back, the beautiful contours of his bubble butt and the way all of his muscles seemed to be engaged as he stood at the filing cabinet, searching for something. Noah finally turned away when Oscar bent at the waist to retrieve something in a bottom drawer. His costume was a little too snug as it was; he didn’t need to be thinking about that ass without clothing at that moment. He couldn’t really remember the last time he’d felt this energized.

  “THAT was really something.”

  Noah and Aiden both looked up at the same time. Oscar was standing there, camera around his neck, his smile broad and genuine. “Thank you, Oscar,” Noah said, returning the smile. Had his teeth always been so white and perfect?

  “I think there might still be some men screaming for more Felicity,” Oscar said, laughing as he took the strap of the camera and pulled it over his head. Noah looked up when he noticed Aiden practically jump out of his chair and head for the door. “They were sitting near—”

  “Oh, I’ll find them,” Aiden yelled, disappearing a cloud of Aquanet and Chanel No. 5.

  “As if we ever doubted that,” Noah said, removing his shirt and unfastening the uncomfortable corset that had been Aiden’s idea. I was thinking Marlene Dietrich, Aiden had announced one day. If Noah had known that he’d have to sing in one of these things—all for the sake of appearing curvier—he would have told Aiden exactly what to do with the corset.

  “Uh, here’s your camera.” Oscar wasn’t looking at him, and Noah found it to be incredibly endearing. “If you tell me where your case is, I’ll—”

  “Oh
, sorry. It’s right here.” Noah moved to his backpack on the floor and pulled out his aluminum case and handed it to Oscar. He moved forward to stand in front of Oscar, noticing that Oscar still wasn’t looking up. Noah grabbed his sweatshirt from the back of his chair and pulled it on quickly, his head poking through the hole just in time for him to notice Oscar stealing a glance, his hands still juggling camera and case.

  Oscar finally looked up. “Thank you. I really enjoyed the new stuff.”

  “Thank you, Oscar.” Noah moved a little closer, taking and opening the aluminum case. He was close enough to realize that Oscar was actually an inch or two taller than he, close enough to see the slight tremor in Oscar’s hands as he fitted the camera back into the foam lining. “You’ve been really great to us. You and Marcus both.”

  “Marcus just loved to listen to the two of you on stage.” Oscar smiled at the memories that only he was experiencing. “He thought you guys were the next Sonny and Cher. Except that you weren’t sleeping together.”

  Noah raised his eyebrows at that thought. “Thank God for that small mercy, I guess.” Noah laughed and was relieved to hear Oscar do the same. “So,” Noah said, closing the case and depositing it on the chair seat behind him. “How do you think they turned out?”

  “I used manual and automatic shutter, as well as zoom.” Oscar put his hands into his back pockets, and Noah found his gaze transfixed by the sight of the crisp white cotton shirt stretched over well-defined pecs. Noah’s thoughts were focused on whether Oscar had a smooth or hairy chest; he hoped the latter. He tuned back in, forcing his eyes up to Oscar’s. “Let me know if there’s any in there that you want to use, and I’ll get the posters made up for the club and our advertising.”

  “That would be wonderful, but it was my idea, so I don’t mind paying for the processing. I don’t want you to have any additional expenses just because of me.” Noah suddenly felt guilty for making Oscar think he would have to pay for all of this new publicity.

  “We’re actually doing quite well now.” Oscar offered a smile and looked somewhere to the left of Noah’s face. “Must be people are hearing about the incredible comic act with the world-class singing.”

  Noah actually blushed. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck, into his cheeks, and settle in his ears. “Well, thank you, but just the same, I don’t want to be the reason anything changes.”

  “We can fight about it later,” Oscar said as he reached out and let his hand rest on Noah’s forearm for a couple of seconds. The heat coursing through Noah’s body intensified, and he felt a shiver of arousal at the contact. But then the hand was gone and Oscar was moving away, toward the door.

  “Have you ever been out to the High Level Bridge to see the waterfall at night?” Noah said the words quickly, not really sure he’d understood them all. “It’s really quite breathtaking, and I was thinking that maybe we could grab some dinner—my treat—and then take our cameras and—” Noah forced himself to stop talking, berating himself for sounding so desperate.

  “I know you won’t believe this,” Oscar said as he made his way back toward where Noah stood, “but except for pictures, I’ve never seen the waterfall.”

  “Really?” Noah did find it hard to believe, but maybe Oscar didn’t live anywhere near the bridge. “Well, then, when you say yes, I’ll not only show you the waterfall but one of the best diners you’ll ever eat in.”

  Oscar’s smile grew slowly, becoming that easy grin Noah was beginning to find too infectious for his own good. But he didn’t care at that moment; all he wanted was to hear one word. “Will you let me drive?”

  “I can’t let you drive if it means you’ll have to go too far out of your way to pick me up, but I’d be happy to meet you there.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “Near the intersection of 109 and Jasper.”

  “In that case, I’ll tell you what we’ll do.” Oscar reached into his back pocket and took out his cell phone. “I’ll drive down, park at your place, and then we can walk.” Oscar opened his cell phone and pushed a couple of buttons. “May I have your number? Or would you prefer to have mine?”

  Noah supplied the number without hesitation.

  Oscar punched at the screen of his phone and then closed it. “I’ll make sure I call you tonight so you’ll have my number… just in case you need to cancel.”

  That is so not going to happen, Noah thought, then realized that neither of them had mentioned a date. “Are you free tomorrow afternoon?”

  “I am now,” Oscar said, and Noah was a little stunned at how flirty this shy man had become. “I’ll call,” Oscar repeated as he held up his cell phone.

  I’ll check it as soon as I get home. Noah never brought his cell phone to the club; he didn’t want to take the chance of it being stolen while he was on stage.

  With a slow smile and a nod, Oscar left the room, leaving Noah stunned but more excited than he’d felt in a very long time.

  Noah was so excited that he almost forgot to say good-bye to Aiden, whom he found, unsurprisingly, sitting with a group of middle-aged, well-dressed men, laughing and flirting as if there would be no tomorrow. Noah threw his backpack over his shoulder, folded his garment bag over his arm, and walked over to where they were sitting, kissing his best friend on the cheek, and after accepting the congratulations of the men and declining drinks from two of them, he headed out into the cool night air.

  NOAH knew that his day had been going far too perfectly for it to last as long as it had. When he walked through the door, he checked his cell phone and found two messages. The first was from someone called Duncan McLaughlin, whom Noah assumed would turn out to be Paul’s lawyer. And the second was from someone called Shirley Gardiner. He toed off his shoes, threw his garment bag and camera case on the bench beside the foyer table, and headed for the kitchen, punching the button to listen to the first message.

  Noah had been correct in his assumption that the first call was from Paul’s lawyer. It would seem that Mr. McLaughlin not only wanted to depose Noah as soon as possible but that Mr. McLaughlin also wanted to warn him that he would probably be getting a phone call from a Ms. Shirley Gardiner, attorney for the plaintiff. Noah didn’t bother listening to the second message since Mr. McLaughlin had told him not to, or, more precisely, not to listen to it yet. His exact words? “Call her after you’ve called me so I can tell you what to expect.”

  Whatever. Noah sighed, trying to get his good mood back. He didn’t have to try very hard. All he had to do was think of Oscar. “I am now.” Who would have ever thought that Oscar—shy, timid Oscar—could be such a flirt? And a really good one at that.

  He checked the time, saw it was far too late to call back, even though Mr. McLaughlin had said to call at any time to arrange a meeting, turned off his cell phone, and headed to the bathroom to draw a nice, hot bath. He was going to be fully rested for his date with Oscar. At least, he hoped Oscar knew it was a date.

  As he undressed and stepped into the bath, Noah decided that I am now certainly meant that Oscar knew Noah’s intentions. With that settled in his mind, Noah let his body relax and enjoyed the hot water, his muscles releasing all of their tension. He closed his eyes and pictured Oscar’s smile, his hands, the cotton shirt stretched over the muscles of his chest. Noah could almost feel what it would be like to be held in those toned arms, what it would be like to listen to that sweet voice whispering in his ear as they lay holding each other.

  His hand moved to stroke slowly over his own dick, feeling it harden as he contemplated what Oscar’s body would feel like on top of his own, how his skin would heat up as he experienced the sensations that kissing those swollen lips would certainly bring. Noah parted his thighs involuntarily, imagining their sweat-soaked skin slipping and sliding as they writhed together on cool, clean sheets.

  As his breathing grew faster, his lungs trying to get more oxygen, Noah drew his other hand down to cup and fondle his own balls. He imagined Oscar’s legs wrapped aroun
d his waist, their eyes focused intently on each other as Noah entered him slowly, pulling out and pushing back in over and over until the sensations compelled Noah to move faster and more forcefully. He would find that bundle of nerves that would drive Oscar crazy with desire, causing the shy man’s eyes to roll back in his head. Noah would lean forward; their tongues would find each other, flicking and laving, every inch of their bodies overloaded with sensation.

  And then would come Noah’s favorite part. After they climaxed, their bodies sated and their breathing returning to normal, Noah would roll them onto their sides, their bodies making contact from lips to feet. And they would fall asleep like that, wrapped up in each other, nothing else existing for either of them until morning.

  The thought of spending the night wrapped in Oscar’s arms had Noah’s balls pulling up, his hand moving over his prick faster and faster until he felt himself let go. He rode out his orgasm, his body feeling as if it were on fire. His hand stilled, he slumped back against the porcelain of the tub, and he inhaled deeply. There was no doubt that Noah would be sleeping very well tonight.

  He pulled the shower curtain closed, rinsed himself off thoroughly, and took a few moments to clean the tub before going to the sink to brush his teeth. Heading for his comfortable bed, Noah tried to think of some sort of little present to give Oscar at the end of their first date. He would keep it in the loft or in his backpack and slip it out if everything went as well as he hoped. Maybe he would give Oscar one of those stick-anywhere tripods that he’d seen online the other day. He could even get one for himself.

  Noah sat on the edge of the bed, reached out to set his alarm so that he could venture out tomorrow and get Oscar’s surprise gift, and then crawled between the cool sheets. He closed his eyes and settled his head against the pillow, his mind still thinking about all the little things he’d begun to notice about Oscar.