by Willa Okati
Clay felt a shudder of anticipation, which startled him. Maybe it was the leftover thrill from helping James and Stuart, he rationalized. "Yeah, Jeri. Send him in."
Waiting, Clay idly swung his foot back and forth. Something white flashed, and he realized that one shoelace had come untied. With a noise of impatience, he bent down to fix it, grumbling under his breath about stupid trainers and not being in kindergarten all over again. The chair, which had seemed sturdy enough, suddenly tipped forward, landing Clay on his forearms with a painful crunch, his ass in the air.
"Well, I had planned on a handshake," a warm voice, rich as brandy wine, said with some amusement. "But then again, this isn't such a bad way to say hello either."
Clay felt his cheeks turn bright red. Figures. He righted himself, pushing the chair back into position before tossing hair out of his eyes and standing up to greet the new entrant.
He went from red to pale in a heartbeat. "Seth?" he asked, his lips going numb.
The newcomer cocked his head. "Who? No, sorry. My name's Taylor. Do I remind you of someone you know?"
"A little, yeah." Clay sank down in the treacherous chair, staring for all he was worth. God almighty, this Taylor could be Seth's twin. The same wavy blond hair, the same angled face, the same sparkling eyes. But the closer he looked, the more differences he could see. Taylor stood a couple of inches shorter, his clothes were the latest out of that trendy catalogue, and his lips were a bit thinner.
"Do you mind if I have a seat, or should I stand here for a while longer?" Taylor teased.
Clay took a deep breath. Even the voices were close to alike. "You don't have a brother, or a cousin…?" he ventured. "Someone who lives around here?"
"Sorry, no. I moved into town last month."
"Small world," Clay muttered. "You know, there's a guy in town who could be your twin."
"Really? Is he charming, sexy, and witty?" Taylor winked. "Can I give him a run for his money?"
To his own surprise, Clay chuckled. Taylor sat down, easily crossing his legs at the knee. He held out a hand. "Pleased to meet you."
Clay took the strong fingers in his own, and felt a slight shock of electricity. Chemistry. "Good to meet you," he said, a little awed. "So you are new in town? And this is how you meet people?"
Taylor gave an easy shrug. "It's a lot quicker than meat markets," he said, tilting his head exactly the way Seth did when he was amused. "Better choice, too. Besides, I'd never tried anything like this operation. I thought it would be fun. How long have you been up on the block?"
"Few days now."
"And no one's snapped you up?"
"Not yet," Clay admitted.
"More fools them." Taylor gave Clay a quizzical look. "Why?"
Clay felt his cheeks coloring again. "That's kind of a long story…"
"Would you like to discuss it over dinner?"
That brought Clay sharply back to attention. "You're asking me out?"
"Why not? I've been around a few days myself, and I've never seen anyone who appealed to me like you. I want to get to know this Clay better." Taylor smiled. "From the look on your face, you're either horrified or delighted."
"I'm not sure," Clay answered honestly. His brain felt like a tilt-a-whirl. This man could have been Seth, except for the open and frankly gay attitude. Would it be accepting an imitation designer original, or finding a steal? He truly couldn't tell. "Can I have a minute to think about it?"
Taylor made an expansive gesture. "All the time you need. I'm not going anywhere." He cast an eye to the timer and cracked another grin. "At least not until that buzzes, at any rate."
Clay managed to return his look of good humor before returning to his thoughts. Not Seth, not Seth, not Seth, part of his brain chanted before another part chimed in with Seth rejected you. This man just happens to look like him. Does that mean you should say no? Of course not, dummy! He's a prize, and he's interested in you. What were you saying earlier? Go get 'im!
"If it helps, I'm not after your masculine virtue," Taylor teased. "I'm just one of the last true romantics. All I had in mind was a dinner at a good restaurant --"
"Not seafood," Clay said absently.
"A steak house, then. We can share a good bottle of wine, then go for a walk on the shore. Corny as it might sound, there are those of us who appreciate a stroll along the sands." Taylor's eyes were twinkling. "I'll keep my shoes on, though, thanks."
"Jellyfish," they said together.
Clay couldn't help it -- he cracked up. "You make a pretty convincing argument," he relented. "You want me to be straight with you?"
"Well, no. I'd rather you were gay, or this whole arrangement is pretty pointless, wouldn't you agree?" Taylor's eyes twinkled as Clay had to laugh. "But if you're asking me if I'd like you to be honest? Then the answer is yes. I can tell there's something holding you back, and I'd like to know what it is. Would it have anything to do with this man I resemble?"
"More than less," Clay admitted. "Except he is straight, as in the non-homosexual meaning of the word. My housemate. We were really good friends."
"Were? As in the past tense?"
"I'm thinking very past, now."
"There was an argument? A fight?"
"Suffice it to say I screwed up big time, and now he wants me to move out." Clay stared down at his lap, watching his hands curl into fists. He unclenched them with an effort. "The guy meant -- means -- a lot to me. I don't know what I'm going to do without him."
Taylor looked thoughtful. "You had a crush on him, didn't you?"
Clay winced.
"Thought so." Taylor reached out and placed a hand on Clay's knee. Rather than an intrusion, it felt like a simple dose of comfort. Nothing sexual about the move. Just comfort. "I've been there myself, you know. Trouble is, nothing down that road but tears. There's no use wasting our time mooning over people who don’t want us back, at least not in the way we'd like."
Clay nodded grudgingly. He couldn't tell Taylor about the whole gay-joke thing, much less about the blow job in his backyard. Some things weren't meant to be shared, and he had the feeling Seth would really blow his stack if he ever found out.
He looked up at Taylor, taking in every detail of the man. So close to the way Seth looked, from the tips of his hair down to his long, narrow feet. Kind. Understanding. And gay, or at least he said so. Here to meet another man he'd like to spend time with. The perfect guy, or at least he should have been.
Clay spared a thought for Michael, Adam, and Jefferson. What had been wrong with him? Michael aside as a definite "some night when I'm desperate", they had been guys he could have hooked up with. Why hadn't he? Easy answer -- a terminal case of Seth on the brain.
Maybe it was time he took Jeri's advice, and come to it, Taylor's too. Time to get over himself and move forward. Yeah. He could. He should.
Any minute now, he would.
"Aw, God," he burst out. "I can't."
Taylor blinked. "You what, now?"
"I'm sorry, and I know this sounds like a bad line, but it's not you. It's me."
"Clay." Taylor tented his fingers. "You can't keep mooning after this guy. Not when there's a whole big world of gay men out there just looking for someone as special as you."
"I know, I know." Clay made a fist and struck his own knee. "Look, under any other circumstances, I would have jumped at you. And I do mean jumped. We'd be on the floor already with my tongue in your ear."
Taylor laughed. A good sign. "Maybe something a little less sloppy?"
"I'm flexible. Point is…" Clay spread his hands. "I'm just not over this guy yet. I don't know how long it'll take until I will be. But before that day comes, I couldn't give anyone I dated anything but second-best."
"I see." Taylor sighed. "No, no, I do understand. The heart loves where it will, right? But you keep my number. Maybe in a few days, a week, a month, when your head's cleared up, give me a call. Even if I'm with someone by then, we can still go out for a few drinks."
"Ah, I don't think you give yourself enough credit." Taylor bent and gave Clay a soft kiss on the top of his head. "You take care, now, you hear?"
Clay nodded, taking Taylor's hand in a lingering grasp as he turned to walk out of the door. "I'm sorry," he offered.
Taylor paused, hand on the knob. "Yeah. Me, too." Then, he smiled. "Maybe we'll meet again. Some other time, some other place."
"If I can, I will," Clay answered him as honestly as he could, although he couldn't see himself getting over Seth anytime soon.
And with that, Taylor was gone. Clay groaned and flung himself into the chair, pounding the armrests. "I am such a moron!" he accused himself. "A fine guy like Taylor, and I let him get away? Jesus, what's wrong with me?"
"Maybe there's someone you can't get out of your mind," a familiar voice said.
Jeri cut in on the intercom. "Clay, there's a guy headed your way. I couldn't stop him. He said he knew you, and you wouldn't be mad."
Clay didn't look up. "Jeri?"
"Yeah, sweetie?"
"Would this be the guy who came with me on my first speed date?"
"That's the one."
Clay switched off the intercom. He looked up. At Seth. Not an imitation, but the real thing. Somewhat the worse for wear, looking like he'd had a sleepless night, with his hair sticking up in seven different directions and dark circles under his eyes, but… Seth.
"What are you doing here?" Clay asked through numb lips.
Seth leaned on the back of the empty chair. "Looking for you," he said with a faint trace of good humor. "As for why, that's another question."
"Why, then?" Clay's heart began to beat trip-hammer fast in his chest.
"Because of last night. Because I couldn't forget you. Me. What we did." Seth looked into Clay's eyes and refused to let him break the contact. "What I did."
"What you did," Clay repeated dumbly. "The note."
"Yeah." Seth dragged a hand through his disheveled hair. "Clay, we have to talk."
Clay nodded silently.
"Can I have a seat?"
"Please." Clay watched as the man he loved with all his might came around to sit casually in his chair. He couldn't take his eyes off the guy. His throat felt thick, as if he were trying to swallow down some huge lump of emotion. "Seth, why are you here?"
Seth flashed Clay a look he couldn't interpret. "To take my shot at charming you into a date," he said.
To which Clay could find nothing to say at all. Not one single word.
Until his mouth opened, and out fell -- "Holy shit."
Chapter Eleven
Seth's mouth crooked up at one corner. "Yeah. Pretty much what I was thinking all the way over here. Speaking of which, way to treat a guy like dog crap last night, huh?"
"Seth, I am so sorry. You have no idea how --"
"No, I don't. I didn't, either." Seth rubbed at his cheeks, making a sandpapery sound. "Do you really not know what all that in the yard was about?"
Clay felt as if he were lost at sea. "You were… curious," he fumbled. "Looking for someone to show you what it was all about."
Seth gave him a long, level look. "And that's it?"
"Pretty much. Seth, what do you want to say?"
"How about you start with the truth?"
"Clay, is everything okay in there?" Jeri called through the door. "I have a hot button to the police if you're in trouble, so don't you even think about starting anything, whoever you are!"
"Easy. I've got a problem with him, but we're not about to start hitting each other." Seth glanced at Clay. "Are we?"
Clay shook his head. "We're clear, Jeri."
"If you say so." She sounded doubtful. "But if I hear one raised word or a single thing go crash, I'm on the phone to my buddies in the force."
"Geez," Seth mumbled. "Wonder if they're my buddies, too. Wouldn't that figure?"
Clay struggled for a grip on the moment. "Seth, focus. I thought, last night, you were all about exploring sex with a man. It didn't matter which man. I was there, and you trusted me. When it was over, I… I…" He fell silent. "I couldn't handle things, okay? I went over to Anthony's."
"Leaving me out in the backyard, floating on the best orgasm of my life, wondering when you'd come back." Seth's voice dropped. "I had my hands on myself, Clay. Wishing you'd hurry up with whatever you were doing and get outside with me again, where you belonged."
Clay shook his head. "Seth, don't read more into this than need be. What we shared, it wasn't --"
"Oh, no, you don't." Seth held up a finger. "You don't get to say it wasn't special. And since when do you have the right to make up my mind for me? Clay, you need to sit there and listen, because I have a few things to say. Can you promise me you'll just be quiet until I have this all off my chest?"
Clay nodded hesitantly, not opening his mouth.
"Good." Seth got up and began to pace the room, punctuating his words with choppy hand gestures. "When you didn't come back last night, I got myself dressed and went inside. I looked for you everywhere, in each room, and then I thought to check for your car. Gone. You know how seeing an empty spot in the driveway made me feel? I had no idea why you'd left. In my head, I was thinking you'd taken off because you couldn't stand to look at me.
"Hence, the note." Seth took in a deep breath. "I heard you come home and take it off the door, but damn it, Clay, I was so mad at you by then I couldn't think straight. I figured you'd been off somewhere washing the taste of me out of your mouth."
"Seth, no, I didn't --"
"I know, I know. Anthony's, like you said. But if you were me, and the guy who'd just had sex with you fled like a bat out of hell, what would you think? And don't you start with the 'but you're straight' line. I'm starting to think maybe I'm not, Clay. I'm open to new things."
His voice softened. "I'd been hoping you would come back and open my eyes to a few more," he said. "But no Clay, no further adventures, and I got madder and madder. But then, as I lay awake, I started to think. Anthony's got his nose into everything, you know? He figured it out long before I did."
Clay couldn't hold back the words. "What did he know?"
Seth barked a laugh. "That I loved you, dumbass. There. I said it. I don't know when it started, or why, but after last night, I was sure. And I was just as sure that I hated you, too.
"I slept maybe an hour. Thinking about you, the night we went to that bar and got drunk. I tucked you in and I couldn't drop off as long as I was by your side. Just being near you made me question too many things about myself."
"Anthony knew?"
"That man is way too smart for his own good," Seth grumbled. "He told me I had to make up my own mind, but you did that for me. I didn't want to, you understand that? I wanted to play this game out, and go back to chasing skirts. But you -- you got inside my heart somehow, and I couldn't get you out again. I didn't want to. And that's what I realized last night.
"Fell asleep around dawn. When I woke up, you were gone again, and I knew there was only one place you could have gone. I didn't stop to think, to get dressed, hell, even to comb my hair. The only thing that mattered was getting to you before someone else swept you up."
Seth sank to one knee in front of Clay's chair. "I'm scared, okay? I don't understand any of this. Why you, why me. All I know is that it exists. The big elephant in the room. We can dance around it, but we can't pretend it doesn't exist."
"Seth…"
"Stop interrupting. Please. Clay, I want you. I need you. I have no idea where this is heading, but I want you along for the ride. Can you handle a passenger in the car? I need to know the answer, man. Are you willing to guide me through whatever's on the way, guide me over the speed bumps, help me understand myself?" He reached up to touch Clay's face with a surprisingly gentle hand. "Please, Clay. I'm scared, and you're the only anchor I can hang onto right now." His vo
ice dropped to a bare whisper. "I love you."
Something broke in Clay's heart. Once, when he was a kid, he'd read a story about a man who had three iron bands around his heart. When his dreams came true, the bands shattered for joy. He could live again, breathe deep, and he could love. Staring down at Seth, Clay suddenly understood that fairy-tale man. He drew in a breath, and it tasted fresh.