by Limor Moyal
They entered a two-story building and opened a door which lead to a narrow hallway ending in two doors. Dan heard music beats and the floor beneath him was shaking from the bass notes coming from within. Tom knocked on the left door, a big man opened it, looked at Tom and then Dan, nodded his head and opened the door. The more the door opened the louder the music got and a smell of booze and cigarettes, mixed with the chill dry air from the air conditioning, flowed into the hallway. For a moment, Dan remembered Alex, and thought of how terrible it must be being a bouncer. Even though in this bar all it required was to recognize the familiar faces.
When they went in, Dan was surprised to find himself standing in a bigger space than he imagined. With high ceilings, and a black smoky atmosphere, but clean and modern. On his left there was a long wooden bar that ruled all over the space’s wall, and was efficiently run by three barmen.
On the wall in front of the entrance there was a stage and the band was in the midst of playing Changes by David Bowie.
The excited crowd sang along with the band and a little group stood near the stage and danced.
All of the inside space was full of rounded wooden tables, surrounded by a lot of chairs, and an attentive, supportive crowd.
They found an empty table in one of the corners and sat down. A waitress instantly came over and put a bowl of peanuts on the table, “What will you have?”
“Draft beer,” answered Dan.
“Half? Third?” she asked.
“Half,” he answered and turned on hearing Tom’s chuckle, “What’s funny?” he asked.
Tom shook his head, “I’ll just never get used to the Israeli habit of drinking beer by the third and half-liter. That’s a lot of beer for one glass!”
Dan laughed back, “We believe in doing things right from the beginning!”
Tom focused on the waitress. “I'll have two-finger of whiskey, Jim Beam if you’ve got it.”
The waitress smiled and nodded.
Dan looked at Tom, wondering, “Whiskey? What happened?”
“You’re driving home, that’s what happened,” Tom answered with a smile.
Tom was on his third whiskey, and Dan on his second beer when the band gave a nice cover for I Will Wait for You by Mumford and Sons.
They continued drinking and enjoying the music, Dan felt a little dizzy and decided that a liter of beer was enough for one. After all, he needed to drive. But Tom didn’t stop, and kept on ordering glass after glass of the golden poison.
In the midst of a bluesy cover for Confused by Lenny Kravitz, a tall handsome man came over to their table. Tom saw him and stood up, he didn’t bother introducing him to Dan. He was pretty drunk already, and Dan felt that Tom wasn’t happy about the unexpected encounter.
They whispered a few words between them, the man put his hand on Tom’s shoulder, gave him a kiss on the cheek, looked at Dan with an appraising look and a crooked smile, turned around, and left.
Tom sat, downed his whiskey in one shot, and went silent while looking at the figure walking away.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about. Historical hookup, it happened, and it’s good it’s in the past tense. He came to see if I'm game for a second,” Tom signaled the waitress to bring him another whiskey.
“And what did you tell him?”
Tom looked at Dan and smiled, “I told him I don’t think my date would be okay with it.”
“Is that why he looked at me?” wondered Dan.
“That’s why he looked at you! I hope you’re not mad I appointed you for the role, I had to blow him off.”
“There’s no problem, Texas. I'd even punch him for you, if needed, and if I had any idea how to throw a punch,” said Dan.
Tom burst in laughter, “It’s the thought that counts, Dan. I appreciate your willingness to hit someone for me.”
The whiskey arrived at the table, and Dan thought it might be better to cut Tom off. The man seemed sober, but he had a glazed look to his eyes.
“He’s also past thirty, I see you’re consistent with the men you choose to get into bed with.”
“I'm very consistent. Right age, right look. But it’s just sex, Dan. Sex is a wonderful way to pass time until the real thing. Until the ‘One’,” Tom emphasized the word ‘One’ with a Shakespearean flair.
“And what does the ‘One’ has to have in order for him to be the ‘One’?” asked Dan, almost embarrassed.
“I'll tell you when I find him,” he raised his glass toward Dan and in his heart he thought, I wish it would’ve been you.
“To future partners, I wish both of us to find our significant other.”
Dan smiled and raised his beer, “Cheers, Texas.”
The band’s singer finished an amazing performance of Since I've Been Loving You by Led Zeppelin and went over to the microphone to talk with the audience.
“Good evening to the lovely crowd that arrived tonight. It was our pleasure singing for you today, and since you were such a wonderful supporting crowd, you get to choose a song for us to do.”
Many song names were thrown out there, and all of a sudden Dan stood up and raised his hand. A spotlight was pointed at him, “Here’s a guy who can raise his hand politely, what do you want to hear, man?” asked the singer.
Dan was amazed and shocked by the courage that struck him, but the sweet revenge justified the cost.
“This young man here sitting next to me is Tom, and today is Tom’s birthday. He’s twenty-seven years old,” the crowd applauded and sang Happy Birthday in a loud chorus.
Tom took the chance and with an amused smile whispered to Dan, “I was born in May, twenty-three years ago, but don’t let the facts confuse you.”
“Texas. The facts are irrelevant in this case. Happy birthday by the way, get ready for your present,” Dan whispered back.
Dan continued talking to the singer, “Anyway, Tom’s a huge fan of Paul Anka.”
The crowd was rolling with laughter, and the singer nodded his head and smiled. Dan continued, “I know. It’s weird. But there are people with shitty taste in music, and we need to respect them too, and it’s his birthday today so it’s all the more reason.”
The amused singer consulted his band and came back to the microphone, “What is he to you?” he asked Dan.
Dan looked at Tom and smiled, “He’s my date.”
The crowd let out cheers of excitement and Tom blushed and downed his head to his hands on the table, not because Dan had just outed him, but because of Paul Anka. It’s much easier being gay than a musical idiot.
“If that’s the case, congratulations on your birthday, and only this once, we will sing you one of Paul Anka’s hits,” he finished talking and started playing, and the sounds combined into a familiar and frighteningly saccharine song, You Are My Destiny. The crowd combined laughter together with joining in the band’s singing.
Dan laughed and enjoyed the success of his evil plan, and Tom was embarrassed, amused and excited.
When the song ended Tom whispered to Dan, “This was the most exciting imaginary-birthday I've ever had, with the sexiest imaginary-date I've ever had, with the most idiotic very real song. Thank you, Jedi,” and finished with a wink.
They walked towards the Jeep, still giggling, and Tom couldn’t stop cursing at Dan, and promised him vengeance for the embarrassment he’d made him experience. He barely held himself straight, and even tripped and Dan caught him. It was the first time Dan had seen him drunk.
They entered the Jeep, and before Dan could start it, Tom was already asleep in the seat.
Dan carefully put his seatbelt on, and started driving while hearing Tom mumbling out of drunkenness, “I wish this was real.”
“What was real?” asked Dan. But Tom dove right back into the alcohol’s abyss and didn’t answer. It was doubtful he’d remember anything tomorrow with all the whiskey he’d had.
Dan woke up to smells of something sweet and fried coming f
rom the kitchen. Pancakes, he guessed, and was struck by mixed feelings. Warm pancakes were totally on his agenda today. But his soldier wasn't supposed to touch his kitchen. Dan thought about it for exactly a second, and immediately forgave him. It was Tom, and he was making pancakes. Dan knew this rule was cancelled once the sweet tempting smell crawled up into his nostrils. He got ready and went downstairs.
Tom stood with his back to him, he wore jean shorts, no shirt, and was barefoot.
His broad muscular back was tan and smooth, and Dan could see the muscles moving under his skin while Tom moved efficiently over the pan.
He looked at the image in front of him without uttering a word, he was enchanted. He felt an uncontrollable urge to go over to Tom and hug him from behind, this thought gave him a sudden erection, he cursed at himself and at his disloyal body and was completely unable to understand the involuntary responses his body had around Tom, he didn’t understand what was happening to him. And what was it about Tom to bring out such response on his part?
He thought that given the absence of sexual activity for such a long time it might be an instinctive response. That was the moment Tom turned his head towards him and smiled.
“Hi. Good morning, sleepy-head, did the smell wake you up?”
Dan went over to the coffee machine, trying to hide the embarrassing exhibit in the center of his body, “It smells great, Texas, I'm even willing to forgive you for breaking the rules.”
“Rules are meant to be broken. Especially when they’re idiotic, like preventing a talented chef access to the kitchen.”
“About the ‘talented’, I'll let you know if I agree with that statement after I have a taste. How’s the hangover after all the whiskey last night?”
“We’re both okay, both me and the hangover,” answered Tom with a smile that didn’t help at all with Dan’s attempts to calm down the party around his loins. He went over to sit in the dining room with his coffee, hiding his lower body under the table.
Tom brought a huge pile of pancakes, dripping with syrup, to the table. He put a plate and fork in front of Dan and another set at his own place.
“Dig in!” Tom ordered while stabbing a fork in three pancakes and packing them onto his plate.
Dan looked at him and saw a tanned muscular chest held in front of him. The pancakes were much less interesting all of a sudden. What had started as a semi-erection was threatening to tear apart his zipper. He was frustrated, confused. He was mad at himself, he didn’t understand what was happening to him.
But these feelings had to wait, while he was thinking of a plan to neutralize the shameful exhibit in his pants. He packed pancakes onto his plate and started eating, staring at his plate and chewing every bite with concentration. He sipped his coffee and tried to think about work, and about Lena, and about Netanyahu’s latest speech he’d seen on the news. Anything he could think of to calm him down.
“What’s going on Dan? Are you okay? You didn’t drink enough yesterday for a hangover.”
Dan wanted to tell him, that if he would wear a shirt it might help. Even better would be a burqa like the Muslim women wore to cover everything but their eyes.
“I'm fine, Texas, still sleepy is all.” Only the part above the neck, Dan thought to himself. Something was very awake under his belt, and didn’t seem willing to go back to sleep.
“What are you planning for today?” asked Tom.
“Gym this morning,” answered Dan without looking at him, still dwelling on the plate.
“Why aren’t you building a gym here in the basement? You’re wasting a lot of space.”
“The truth is I thought about it more than once, but I keep putting it off, especially because I'm not sure I want to keep living in this house. It’s too big for just me, and it’s full of bad memories.”
Finally there was a subject that could kill uninvited erections, and Dan could feel his blood flowing back to vital organs in his body, such as the brain.
“I actually like this house, now that we got all the crap out of here, it’s starting to look much better. I think if you put ‘you-kind-of-stuff’ in here, it’ll turn the space into something you feel good in. I'd start by not calling it a ‘monument’ anymore,” suggested Tom.
“You have an idea for a different name?”
“Call it ‘Graceland’ like Elvis’s house. Or ‘Neverland’ like ‘Michael Jackson’s.
Or better yet, call it ‘Pemberle’ like Darcy’s mansion from Pride and Prejudice.”
Dan looked at him with a half-smile, “Don’t tell me you’re Jane Austen fan.”
Tom smiled at him, “I'm gay;I'm entitled!”
Dan rolled his eyes at him. “I really don’t look like Colin Firth,” he stated and sipped his coffee while the rebellious soldier in his pants went from ‘Attention’ to ‘At ease’.
“Dan, you’re surprising me, I didn’t expect a straight guy to show such knowledge in historic romance novels,” Tom teased him.
“Don’t get all worked up, Texas, it’s because of Lena. She made me watch that show at least three times.
An unsuccessful attempt, to try and drag me into her fantasy. Somehow she saw some sort of similarity in our relationship, and I was supposed to be her ‘Darcy’. With a small but significant difference, because unlike ‘Darcy’, I never really loved her,” he said with sadness as a wave of guilt washed him.
“I'm sure you’ll find your ‘Lizzie’ one day Dan. Now, would you please stop escaping to your shadows again? We were talking about ‘Darcy', so let’s go back to him. Colin Firth is an excellent ’Darcy’ and in my opinion one of the sexiest guys ever. But you’re nothing like him, I think you’re more like… Michael Fassbender. And before you ask who he is, he’s the actor in Shame, great movie!”
“GREAT movie,” stated Dan, “I really got into it, except for all the sex of course.”
“Without the sex, there’s not really a movie left. It’s got an amazing clip by Carey Mulligan singing New York, NewYork in the most perfect and sad performance I've ever heard.”
“I can't forget that scene. It almost made me cry, I swear,” Dan confessed.
“And they say we’re feminine,” answered Tom, and Dan smiled at him.
They were quiet for a moment, and then kept eating. Dan calmed down when the rebellious part of him calmed down itself. But this calm didn’t last long because he suddenly saw Tom’s duffel bag laid by the door, ready and packed for next week. He wondered why the duffel bag was ready on Friday morning, when Tom wasn’t supposed to go back on duty until Sunday.
“Why is your duffel bag downstairs?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I'm leaving soon and I won’t be here this weekend.”
“Where to?” asked Dan, trying to act nonchalant and hide his disappointment and the cramps in his stomach this revelation caused.
“Kfir invited me to go fishing with him, and then hang out at his place in Rehovot during the weekend. He’ll drop me off at Rehovot train station on Sunday morning.”
“Let me get this straight! Kfir, who’s a veterinarian, it taking you finishing? Isn’t that some sort of an oxymoron? Is he kind of like the ‘Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde’ of the veterinary world or something?”
Tom was rolling with laughter, “Fishing and murdering are two very different things, but I have to admit I didn’t really think about it that way.”
Dan continued, “He saves land animals by day, and kills water animals by night. The man is dangerous, I'm telling you, Texas.”
Tom continued laughing and answered, “You’re right, Dan, the 'common sense police', should open a criminal investigation against him immediately!”
“Forget it Texas, they’re busy from head to toe. They’re dealing with tough cases like UHT milk, bus lanes on Ayalon and Saturdays elevators, and of course there's Form 17 with the health care! Our country is full of crimes against logic.”
Tom found the whole thing amusing and added, “And that’s before they decided to deal w
ith the hardest case of all, Orthodox Judaism,” but when he said that sentence, something about him darkened.
Dan went serious when Tom’s duffel bag caught his attention again, “But why for the entire weekend Tom? You just met. Doesn’t it seem a little too much too fast? I thought it was just sex.”
“Do you know how much sex you can have in one weekend?” Tom answered wearing a wicked smile.
Dan felt a wave of jealousy attack him yet again, jealousy and frustration. He knew that Kfir was giving Tom something he couldn’t. He had no right to be jealous, he had no right to prevent his soldier from meeting his physical needs.
“I know you’re upset I'm leaving Dan. Even if you don’t say it out loud, I can see it in your eyes. I knew you were planning on me staying here ‘til Sunday, but I think that after the emotional rollercoaster you’ve been through the last few days you need a little space.”
Dan thought that space was the last thing he needed, he wanted Tom, the one thing he couldn’t have.
“And besides,” continued Tom, “It’s a great opportunity to get to know him a little better. Besides the sex, I mean.”
“I never got the idea of hookups. Having sex with someone you don’t know. I can barely have it with people I do know,” Dan confessed.
“It’s a physical need. Gays have it easier when it comes to hookups, maybe because the male way of thinking, which is more pragmatic and less emotional in the first place, it’s about serving a need, nothing more, nothing less. We don’t give it more meaning than what it really is. A mutual orgasm!
The emotional part is much more complicated, and it comes after the sex, if at all. Ever since I got to Israel, it’s been only hookups for me. I'm a soldier, I have no time or energy to invest myself emotionally with anyone.”
“So how do you get your emotional fill?” asked Dan.
“Here. From you, Dan,” he smiled his wonderful smile and Dan blushed, but getting this unexpected compliment from Tom was something he found he needed.