First

by K. C. Wells

  Ben just sat there, looking stunned. Then his face creased into a smile and he burst out laughing. His eyes met Tommy’s. “You gotta love my family, right?”

  Tommy looked around the dining table, his heartbeat back to normal. For the first time since he’d walked into his parents’ living room, he felt a glimmer of hope.

  Maybe all those people on YouTube were right. Maybe it does get better after all.

  Chapter Eight

  “I ALWAYS hated this part of the holidays,” Mike said as he handed his mom the last of the Christmas tree ornaments for her to pack away in their box, ready to go up into the attic. He glanced around the living room. Everything always looked so bare when the trappings of Christmas were taken down. Mom insisted that this was done the last day of the year, ready to start the New Year with a clean slate.

  Penelope Scott laughed. “Oh my, yes. I have vivid memories of you when you were five or six years old, asking me why we couldn’t leave the tree up until next Christmas.”

  “Oh God, really?” Mike smiled. “I don’t remember that.” He handed her the last gold-colored garland. “There, that’s the last of it.”

  His mom pointed to the top of the tree. “Uh-uh, you missed something.” He glanced at the star, and she laughed. “You can get that for me. I can’t reach that high without a ladder.”

  He chuckled. Mom was five feet nothing, yet he knew plenty of people who were scared of the tiny lady who’d started out as a millinery buyer for Rich’s Department Store before ending up as a manager there. Mike stretched up and plucked the star from its lofty position. He laid it in its box and then stepped behind her, stooped to wrap his arms around her waist, and brought his chin to rest on her shoulder.

  “Love you, lady.”

  She reached up to stroke his face. “Love you too, baby.” She turned and stared at him, eyes alight with love, and then she stroked his beard. “Aw, my baby got gray.” Her words were soft.

  Mike laughed. “You’d be this gray too, if you only quit covering it up.” He dodged her quick blow to his arm with a chuckle and then regarded her intently. “Maybe you should be thinking about retiring soon.”

  Mom snorted. “I could say the same thing about you, dear.” He stared at her, and she shrugged. “I see how hard you work, at the bar, the shoots. You’re always off somewhere or other, always busy….”

  Mike sighed. “It is what it is, okay? I’m just trying to keep up most of the time. But it won’t be forever. I’ve planned for the future, just like you taught me.”

  “Glad to hear it,” she said simply. “You were always such a sensible young man.”

  Mike walked over to her front window and stared out at the quiet street beyond. “The industry is changing, Mom. Maybe I need to make some changes too.”

  “Might these changes include a man in your life?”

  Mike groaned. “Mom.” It was an old refrain. He walked over to her and led her to the couch, where they sat down. “We both know it would take a very special kind of man to put up with my career.” God knew, he hadn’t found him yet, and it wasn’t for want of trying. But Dirk’s departure had knocked it out of him, and he’d stopped looking.

  “I could understand that being the case in the past, sure,” his mom said quietly, “but if you retire, that wouldn’t be a problem, right?” She leaned back against the comfortable cushions. “Something else you may want to think about too. You’ve always gone for the same type of man, son. If you keep fishing in the same pond, you’re gonna keep reeling in the same kind of fish.”

  He stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Mom barked out a laugh. “Oh, come on, Mike. How long have I been working with gay men? We’re talking the seventies, eighties, nineties… I see what goes on, I see the circuit groups, I hear about the white parties.”

  Mike stared at her. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this. “Mom?”

  She patted his knee. “Don’t pretend with me, Mike. You hang out with a certain type of man. Your age or maybe older. Muscled. All gay clones of each other.” She smiled. “Time to break the mold, son.”

  He couldn’t help smiling. “You got someone in mind?”

  Mom opened her mouth, but whatever she’d been about to say was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at her front door. Mom’s eyes flew open, and her cheeks were flushed.

  Something rolled over in his belly. “Oh God. What have you done?”

  She rose to her feet and went into the hall, Mike following. “I… I invited a guest for lunch,” she whispered.

  Suddenly everything became clear. Mike groaned. “Oh, Mom, tell me you didn’t.” He hung back, eyeing the shape beyond the frosted glass with distrust.

  She laid a finger on her lips in warning and then opened the front door, a smile fixed on her face. “Darren! Come on in.” She stepped aside to allow her guest to enter. Darren turned out to be in his early thirties, neatly groomed, dressed in slacks, shirt and tie, and a sports coat. He glanced at Mike briefly before kissing Mom on both cheeks. Mike was suddenly aware of his faded jeans and T-shirt.

  Damn her for not mentioning this.

  Mom introduced him. “Darren is a supervisor in the men’s department.”

  Cool blue eyes appraised Mike, and his hand was taken in a firm shake. “And I’ve heard all about you. Penny talks about you all the time, not that I’m unfamiliar with some of your work, ‘Scott.’”

  “I see.” Mike wasn’t ashamed of what he did, but there was something about Darren’s mouth that spoke of disapproval. Well, fuck him.

  Lunch was not off to a good start. Mike was not happy about his mom’s interference, and as the afternoon wore on, he grew unhappier still with Darren’s attitude. There was nothing blatant to point to, but that faint curl of his lip when he mentioned “your industry” was starting to piss Mike off. Mom was looking none too comfortable either. Now and again she sent an apologetic glance Mike’s way when Darren wasn’t looking.

  “So do you have plans for New Year’s Eve, Darren?” she asked as they finished eating chicken salad.

  Darren dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “I’ll be spending the evening with a few close friends who are throwing a low-key party. We’ll toast in the New Year, and that will probably be that.” He gazed across the table. “Mike, I’m sure your evening will be completely different.”

  Mike chuckled. “Oh, there’s no doubt about that.”

  “Mike will be working at the bar tonight,” his mom explained.

  “Oh really? What bar?”

  “Woofs, a gay sports bar on Piedmont.” Mike smiled politely. “In case you haven’t heard of it.” He thought it very unlikely that Darren had even seen it. He had “snob” written all over him.

  Sure enough, Darren wrinkled his nose just the tiniest bit, but Mike caught it.

  “How about you help me with the coffee in the kitchen?” Mom said, her hand on his.

  Mike threw down his napkin, got up from the table, and followed her out of the room. Once in the kitchen, she quietly closed the door behind them and then turned to face him, her cheeks red.

  “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was such a snob.”

  Mike hugged her and then pulled back to look her in the eye. “Now let this be a lesson to you. I know you meant well, Mom, but….”

  “But nothing,” she said, mouth pulled down at the corners. “Why, the way he talks to you is downright rude. Well, I won’t be chatting with him anymore during our lunch breaks, that’s for sure.” Suddenly her eyes gleamed. “Makes me so mad, I just want to say something to… ruffle that smooth little bastard’s feathers.”

  Mike gaped. Darren really had gotten on her nerves. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

  She chuckled, and he helped her put together the tray. When they were back at the dining room table, she poured out coffee into the delicate porcelain cups that had been her grandma’s.

  “Penny, what are your plans for tonight?” Darren asked before t
aking a mouthful of coffee.

  She grinned at Mike, her eyes bright, and then smiled at Darren. “Oh, I’m gonna go hang out with the boys at Cockpit.”

  Darren almost choked, and Mike had to swallow his coffee rapidly.

  “Do what? You’re kidding me.”

  She regarded him with an innocent expression. “Why not? It’s close to home. And besides, it’ll be fun.”

  She bit her lip. Mike flashed a glance in Darren’s direction.

  He was staring at her, mouth open. “You?”

  Mike was trying really hard not to laugh. He glanced at the clock over the fireplace and got to his feet. “Lovely though this is, I have things to do before I go to work, and I have a long evening ahead of me.” He gave Darren a brief nod. “Darren, it was nice meeting you. Mom, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He walked over to kiss her on the cheek and brought his lips to her ear. “Don’t have too much fun tonight.” He felt rather than saw her restrained chuckle. Mike picked up his leather jacket from the hook on the wall in the hallway and left the house. He’d have to be at the bar by three thirty, four o’clock at the latest, and that left just enough time for a nice power nap.

  Before all the New Year’s Eve madness really began.

  MIKE LOVED New Year’s: the atmosphere in the bar; the expectant air as everyone waited for that ball to drop; the sight of guys kissing at midnight….

  But what he loved most? The way the bartenders got to dress. S-E-X-Y. It all added to the fun, and there’d been some really interesting costumes over the years. He glanced at the guys working the bar and smiled to himself. This year was no exception. Kevin was wearing the skimpiest pair of shorts Mike had ever seen, together with an open-sided black T-shirt that showed off that big body with its gorgeous tats. Patrick was gonna be the cause of a lot of drooling that night. He’d turned up in full harness, leather shorts, and boots, that furry chest on display. All those guys who were into daddy bears were gonna lap it up. Don was wearing tight jeans and a T-shirt that showed off those body builder muscles to perfection.

  There were only a few customers in the bar, so Mike took advantage of the quiet before the storm to put up a few more decorations. He was up a ladder, hanging the Happy New Year signs, when he got the distinct feeling of being watched. He twisted around to catch Kevin ogling him from behind the bar.

  Mike snorted. “You’d get more done if you kept your eyes off my furry little ass.” Not that Kevin could miss it. Mike was wearing nothing but a leather jock strap, a half harness, and boots. He figured it wouldn’t harm his tips.

  Kevin chuckled. “If you’re gonna put it on display, you gotta expect people to look.” He palmed his erect dick, which his shorts did nothing to hide. “Looking good there, Mikey. And by the way? There ain’t nothing little about your ass.”

  “Bitch.” Mike went back to his task, grinning when he caught Kevin’s mock gasp. “Have you fetched down all the boxes of plastic champagne glasses yet?” The silence that greeted his words was answer enough. Mike shook his head. “Get your ass into gear, Kev. Time’s a-wastin’.”

  He listened to Kevin’s good-natured grumbling as he went off in search of the glasses. The bar was looking good, and it wouldn’t be long before the customers started piling in through the doors.

  It was gonna be a good night.

  TOMMY GAZED at the plastic garbage bags and boxes full of clothes and heaved a sigh. He didn’t have a clue what he was going to wear. He’d gone through everything at least twice already, and he was no nearer to making up his mind.

  I just want him to notice me. Not that Mike wasn’t gonna do that anyway, for all the wrong reasons. Tommy’s black eye would take care of that.

  “Okay, I’ve been listening to you sighing all evening, and it’s driving me crazy.” Ben emerged from his bedroom, looking smart in black jeans, dark blue shirt, and a matching tie.

  Tommy smiled. “You look nice. I know it’s not how you’d normally dress for a date, but I’m sure Della’s parents will ’preciate it.”

  “Yeah.” Ben shrugged. “It’s gonna be a party full of relatives, so I thought I’d better look the part.” He peered at the bags strewn around Tommy. “I gather you’ve not decided what you’re wearing yet.” He folded his arms across his chest. “What do you want to look like?”

  Tommy considered his question for all of two seconds. He grinned. “Not like Danny.”

  Ben smirked. “Ya don’t say.” He pursed his lips, apparently deep in thought. A moment later, he smiled. “I think we need some help here.”

  Before Tommy could say a word, he disappeared out of the door that led up to the main house. Tommy went back to pulling open the bags and perusing their contents. He looked up when he heard Caroline grumbling, getting louder.

  “Can this wait? I’m right in the middle of getting ready myself.” She followed Ben into the apartment.

  Ben pointed to Tommy. “Look at all this, Mom. Tommy needs help. We’re talking fashion disaster here.”

  She walked over to where Tommy stood and regarded him with a keen glance. “Okay, I’m thinking jeans, nice jeans that fit you, and not ones that make you look like you’re wearing diapers.”

  Tommy’s cheeks grew hot.

  “And I may have an idea of what shirt would work. Perfect, in fact.” She went back into the house.

  Ben came over and burrowed through the pile of clothes until he pounced on something with a little cry of triumph. “Perfect.” He slung a pair of jeans at Tommy. “How ’bout those?”

  Tommy stared doubtfully at the jeans. “I haven’t worn those in a while now, ’cause they’re a little on the small side for me.”

  “Humor me,” Ben said with a grin.

  Shrugging, Tommy took off his sweatpants and squirmed into the jeans. “Hell,” he said as he struggled to pull them up, “these are gonna be awful tight, Ben.” He tried his best to stuff all the extra material of his boxers inside the jeans.

  “Oh, Lord, you can’t wear those!”

  Tommy looked up to find Ben rolling his eyes. “Well, what else would I wear?”

  “Nothing!” Ben said with wide eyes. “Which would be my recommendation.”

  Tommy swallowed. “I am not going commando.”

  Ben chuckled. “We can work up to that. Hang on a sec.” He disappeared back into his bedroom and returned with a little plastic bag. He opened it up and took out a pair of white briefs with a tag hanging off them and a wide waistband bearing the name Trophy Boy. “Here. These are brand new.”

  He threw them at Tommy, who caught them deftly.

  He stared at the garment with its generous pouch. “Think these’ll fit me?”

  Ben’s eyes flicked downward. He grinned. “Oh yeah. Trust me, Trophy Boy was invented for guys like you. Now put them on before Mom comes back.”

  Tommy felt like his whole face was on fire. He shucked off the jeans, removed his boxers, and stepped into the tight briefs. His dick fit perfectly, and the briefs were comfortable, unexpectedly so. It didn’t feel like he was wearing anything. He put the jeans back on and then assessed the situation. “God, they fit where they touch, that’s for sure.” He pulled a face. “I don’t know ’bout this. I don’t usually wear jeans this tight.” And they weren’t just tight, they were Oh My God tight.

  “But they make you look good,” Ben said with a gleam in his eye. “And what do you wanna bet that they make someone else look at you too?” He tilted his head. “There is someone whose eye you’re trying to catch, right? Wherever it is that you’re going tonight, which you haven’t seen fit to share with me.”

  “If Tommy doesn’t want to tell you where he’s going, that’s his choice,” Caroline said as she came into the apartment carrying a white shirt. She smiled when she saw Tommy. “Oh, very nice.” Caroline handed over what looked like a high-end tuxedo shirt. “This is one of Benny’s old shirts. He thinks he’ll get back into it, but that’ll never happen. It will fit you, though. Go ahead. Put it on.”

 
Tommy pulled off his sweatshirt and grabbed a white T-shirt to put on under the shirt, but Ben stopped him.

  “No, nothing under it.”

  Tommy stared at him but shrugged and then slipped his arms into the cool cotton shirt. When he’d nearly finished fastening all the buttons, Ben stopped him once more.

  “Leave the two top ones,” he ordered. “And then roll up the sleeves. You got a black belt?”

  Tommy nodded. “In that case over there.”

  He went over to where Tommy had indicated and sorted through the case’s contents until he found what he was looking for. Then he crossed the room to where Tommy had lined up his footwear against the wall. “Wear these.” Ben held up a pair of black cowboy boots.

  Tommy finished dressing and then stood there, arms by his sides, feeling awfully self-conscious. “Well?” He glanced down at the crisp, pristine shirt. “Now all I have to do is manage not to spill anything on it.”

  “Oooh my.”

  Tommy jerked his head up, cheeks burning, at the sound of Bethany’s drawn-out vowels. She stood in the doorway, grinning. “Well, aren’t you the handsome one? You’re gonna break someone’s heart tonight.”

  Some of the tautness in his stomach eased at her words, and breathing became that little bit easier too. He smiled. “Really?” He wasn’t aiming to break anyone’s heart, but Bethany’s compliment made him feel a lot more confident about walking into Woofs.

  Bethany nodded, Ben nodding with her. Caroline looked him up and down him in silence for a moment, and then she grinned.

  “Maybe it’s a good thing Danny isn’t here right now.” She winked at him.

  Damn. Didn’t that make him feel good?

  THE BAR was filling steadily, and by nine it was already looking pretty full. Kevin wasn’t all that busy yet. He knew once it got past ten o’clock, however, they’d all be busting their asses. There were five guys working the bar, and things would get hectic the closer it got to midnight. Then everything would cool down rapidly.