He shrugged. “Well, I did go out a few times. I thought I met somebody, maybe, but it didn’t work out.”
“His loss,” said Jamilah. “You are a wonderful man, Awais.” She rested a gnarled hand on his wrist. “Any man would be lucky to be with you.”
“Thanks, Nan.” He cleared his throat, blinking away the sudden heat and wetness in his eyes. “Now, did you want to play a game?”
She pulled back, rubbing her hands together. “You do know how to make an old woman happy, my dear. Are you ready to lose?”
Awais pulled out the chess set his grandfather had carved half a century ago, running his fingers over the familiar pieces as he set them up between them. “We’ll see about that.” Tinder could wait. He had plenty of time for men. He wouldn’t have that kind of time with his grandmother.
*
The Lucky Dog was hopping already when Kevin arrived at the bar a few minutes past ten p.m. Their annual New Year’s party was a tradition in Swanley, one that had been running for nearly thirty years and got bigger every year. It always served as a showcase for other small businesses in town: Marianne did breads every year, the Cheeseshop did a selection of local cheddars, goudas, and chutneys, and the various wine shops and other businesses brought their own offerings. The Lucky Dog served their own homebrew, and the cover charge usually made all the vendors a nice profit and the event got them some publicity from locals who might not know about them. This year Rana had miniature falafels and little dumplings stuffed with shredded meat.
Every year the place was filled to capacity, and this year, unseasonably warm for the end of December, they’d opened the back patio with heat lamps and put out a keg of hot chocolate. Kevin spotted Lila and her wife Tori in a corner with Ray and Kathy and made his way through the crowd over to them.
“Big crowd tonight!” said Tori, raising her voice to be heard over the buzz of conversation around them. “Remember when this used to be, like, thirty people?”
“And all we had was Budweiser and peanuts?” added Ray. “This is much better.”
“Have you tried Rana’s little meat things?” asked Lila. “They’re incredible.”
“Not yet,” said Kevin. “What are you drinking?” All four of them had tall, thin glasses with something alarmingly pink inside.
“Carol’s calling it the balldropper,” said Ray, his cheeks already nearly as pink as his drink. “Some kind of raspberry gin thing. It’s good. It’s strong.”
“Yeah, I’m glad we got a babysitter,” said Tori. “My niece is spending the night. We told her we’d give her a hundred bucks to be on duty till noon tomorrow.”
“Smart,” said Kevin, laughing. “I remember those early mornings when our kids were little. Nothing like a six a.m. wakeup when you went to bed drunk at three a.m. It only ever happened at New Year’s, but it was awful every time.”
“Well, the twins are eight, so they can entertain themselves for a while, at least,” said Lila. She saluted Kevin with her glass. “Get yourself a drink. I think Carol made them this color specifically to mess with all you straight men in the room. Show her you’re not afraid of a little pink.”
Kevin’s laugh turned a little uneasy as his stomach soured. Did he have to come out to his friends, now? Was that the courteous thing to do? But he let the description pass unchallenged for the moment. He didn’t want to deal with it and make the party awkward. “I’m going to go get myself a Ball Dropper,” he said instead. “Because I am confident in my masculinity.”
Lila laughed. “Glad to hear it, Kevin. Enjoy the party.”
He wove his way to the bar, exchanging greetings with neighbors and acquaintances along the way. Carol smiled at him, pouring a beer into a glass for Mike Blake, leaning against the bar, and he nodded back. She made her way over to him next. “What can I get you, sweetie? It’s good to see you.”
“I hear there’s a new drink for the night,” he said. “Lila Shapiro said I’ve got to give it a try.”
Carol’s eyes crinkled as she grabbed a bright red bottle of raspberry liqueur. “You’re getting a Ball Dropper?”
He sighed. “You’re shameless, you know that?”
She grinned. “I know. But we all have to entertain ourselves somehow, right?”
“Great party this year,” he said.
“Every year’s better than the last,” she agreed as she poured in gin, and then seltzer, and then a scoop of muddled raspberries. She garnished it with a mint leaf. “I don’t think you and I have missed one yet.”
“We might be the only ones who can say that,” he replied and took the drink, taking a sip. His eyes widened. He could barely taste the gin, the raspberries sweet and cut by a dash of lime juice and the fizzy bubbles of the seltzer.
“Well, enjoy yourself,” she said. “I’ll be putting out a cooler of beers around quarter of midnight, so I’ll be able to join in the fun.”
“I’ll see you out there,” he said, stepping back to make room for the next customer and dropping a five in the tip jar on the corner of the bar. “Thanks, Carol.”
She waved her acknowledgement, already pouring another drink, and he turned to survey the crowd.
A familiar silhouette caught his eye, and his heart clenched in his throat at the sight of broad shoulders filling out a crisp light-blue oxford shirt tailored to a trim waist. He’d recognize those shoulders anywhere, remembered the feel of their muscles flexing under his hands.
He should have known Awais would be there. Swanley wasn’t a big place, and Fatima was a regular at the Lucky Dog New Year’s party. It would make sense she’d bring her nephew.
He was starting to realize he might have been hasty, or maybe that he overreacted a little. But he didn’t know how to fix it.
He only realized he’d been staring at Awais’s back when Awais turned and caught his gaze with his own.
*
Fatima had told him this was the best party in town all year, and Awais had been skeptical. But coming into the Lucky Dog, he’d been shocked by the wall of conversation and laughter and light that had assailed his senses. Fatima led him through the crowd to Rana’s table first, handing him two sambouseks and falafels on a small plate, then to the Swanley Wines table, where they both got plastic cups of what was apparently locally made moscato. It was sweet and delicious, and he immediately decided to drink it slowly because it tasted like it was deceptively light and would mess him up really quickly.
She pointed to Ray and Kathy Bell over by the Windmere Bakery table, signing that he was welcome to join her. He shook his head, wanting to get his bearings a bit. He turned to glance at the bar and caught deep-blue eyes widened in surprise and looking right at him. Kevin. Of course.
“Eleven thirty,” said the bartender over the loudspeaker. “Last call for mixed drinks in fifteen minutes!”
Screw going slow. Awais drained his glass and tossed it in the trash beside the Windmere table. He wasn’t going to let his awkwardness around Kevin ruin his New Year’s Eve. He wanted one of those fancy neon-pink drinks everybody seemed to have, and he wanted it now.
He picked through the crowd, trying to make it to the other side of the bar, but he kept getting shunted back toward Kevin. Every time he looked over at him he was pretty sure Kevin had just turned his eyes away from him.
Finally, he reached the bar, settling on a stool. He didn’t look over toward Kevin, a few feet to his left, but he could feel Kevin’s gaze on him. He smiled at the bartender, pointing at the drink the person on his right was drinking. She nodded her understanding and started mixing him a drink. She handed him the concoction, leaning over the bar. “You must be Awais,” she said. “Fatima told me she’d be bringing you tonight.”
“That’s me,” he said, taking the drink.
“I’m Carol,” she said, holding out a hand. He shook it. “Enjoy your Ball Dropper.”
“My what?” He wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.
“Your cocktail.” She smiled. She was cute. Glancin
g down at the floor behind the bar, he realized it was at least six inches higher than the rest of the room. She was barely five feet tall, a few years older than he was and Latina, with long dark hair with streaks of gray at the temples. She was also hitting on him, he thought. If he weren’t gay, he might take her up on her implied offer of flirtation. He did love a New Year’s kiss.
“Why is it called that, Carol?” he asked, leaning in a little to hear her.
“New Year’s,” she said, laughing. “Plus, most of the men are afraid of them.”
He grinned back at her. “I’ve never been scared of a little pink and fruity,” he said with a wink. “But I’ve dated men who are. Thanks for the drink, and the pun.”
“That’s my job,” she said, as somebody down the bar signaled for her attention. “I’ll see you around. Happy New Year, and welcome to Swanley!”
He turned to lean his back against the bar, taking a moment to look out over the whole restaurant. In the center of the room, people had started dancing, their pink drinks held in the air. The TV across the room had a countdown: eighteen minutes to go.
A soft touch against his bicep startled him, and he looked over to see Kevin beside him. “Hey,” he said. “Happy New Year.”
“You too,” he said cautiously. “Nice party. You enjoying your drink?”
Kevin smiled, but it was a little strained. “It’s good,” he said. “Carol knows how to mix.” He took another sip, draining his glass. “Look, I wanted to talk to you.”
“You did?”
Kevin sighed and set the glass down. He leaned his elbows on the bar, not looking at Awais, instead staring down at his empty drink. “I’m sorry I was weird about the other night.”
Weird was an understatement. “I had a good time,” said Awais. “I thought you did too.”
“I did!” said Kevin. “I really did. I haven’t had a night like that in a long time.”
“But you’re not gay, right?”
“No.” Kevin picked up his empty glass, swirled the melting ice, then put it back down. “I’m not.”
The loudspeaker blared again. “Ten minutes to midnight, Swanley! The bar is closed.” Awais glanced over at Carol, who was hefting a bucket of ice and beers onto the bar. “Beer is now self-serve.”
The silence stretched for a long minute.
Awais sipped his own drink. It was really good. He cleared his throat. “Well.”
“I’m bisexual. I told you that.” Kevin’s fingers tapped on the bar, a nervous-looking tic.
“You did,” he said cautiously. “But then you weren’t interested.”
“It wasn’t because of that.”
“It felt like maybe it was,” said Awais. “Sometimes guys experiment.”
“You weren’t an experiment.” Kevin looked frustrated now. “You weren’t. I wanted you— I still want you.”
“Then what was it?”
“I—” Kevin shook his head, turning to lean beside Awais. “I met you back when you lived here,” he said.
“You did?”
“My ex-wife babysat you when you were a toddler, Awais. I probably changed your diapers. It weirded me out. I realized how weird this would have been if we’d met twenty years ago. I panicked.”
Awais felt something in his chest unfurl, and he shifted until he faced Kevin, tilting his body toward him. “Okay,” he said. “I see how that might have been a little unnerving. But we didn’t meet twenty years ago. We met now. We’re adults. What happened in the seventies doesn’t mean anything about today.”
“I know that. It just took me some time to figure it out.”
“I thought you were having a gay panic.”
Kevin laughed. “If I were, would I be having a drink this color right now?”
“I was wondering about that,” Awais admitted. “But it’s a really good drink.”
“It is,” said Kevin.
“One minute!” said Carol over the loudspeaker. “Get ready to count, Swanley!”
“I really liked spending time with you,” said Awais. “I want you to know that.” The glass was cool against his fingers, which felt suddenly overheated. “I think you’re funny, and I liked being with you.”
“I did too,” said Kevin. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Ten! Nine! Eight!”
“Can I kiss you?” asked Kevin, as the rest of the bar joined the count.
“Yes,” said Awais and reached out, sliding his hands behind Kevin’s neck as the glittering ball on the screen slid down. Their lips met just as a cheer rang out.
“Happy New Year!” shouted Carol, along with half the bar.
Awais barely noticed the cheering. Kevin’s warm lips pressed against his own, his hands in Awais’s hair, tugging him closer and closer until their bodies pressed together. Kevin’s hips were hot against him. He ran his hands over Kevin’s shoulders as he pulled back a few inches. “Do you want to get out of here?” he asked softly.
Kevin nodded against him, their noses brushing. “Do you think we can make it out without anybody seeing us?”
Awais pulled back a little, some of the heat fading from his body. “I’m not ashamed,” he said carefully. “And I don’t want this if you are.”
“Oh, I’m not,” said Kevin, his eyes focused on Awais’s. “But there are at least a dozen people in this room who will want to talk about us, and I don’t want to be involved in those conversations before I get you naked again.”
He looked sincere. And the heat in his eyes was unmistakable. And he still had his fingers curved around Awais’s waist, ten hot points of contact he couldn’t ignore. Awais closed his eyes for a moment, letting his breathing and heart rate slow from their speeding, tripping rate. He inhaled the scent of Kevin’s cologne, something woodsy with notes of cinnamon or clove or something else a little spicy, as well as the beer and bread and people around them. The chatter had sunk back to a loud hum, soothing in its regularity, and he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. “Okay,” he said. “Happy New Year, Kevin.”
A slow smile spread over Kevin’s face, lighting him up. In the heat of the bar, his hair had started to curl at the edges, the silver strands loose and wavy and sliding down over his forehead. Awais reached up and pushed one back into place.
Kevin leaned into the touch, eyelashes fluttering, and picked up his jacket from where he’d hung it over the bar stool. He pulled it on. “Happy New Year. I’d love to take you back to my place.” And he slid his hand up Awais’s side to cup around Awais’s fingers, turning to tug him forward by the hand. He led him, weaving through the crowd, out the side door into the alley where he stopped. The sudden silence was shocking, as was the cold. It was warm for December, warm enough that Awais was only wearing a sweater, and the wind cut through to his overheated skin. It made him shiver and press closer to Kevin, his arm twining around Kevin’s and his shoulder pressed against Kevin’s back.
The space was narrow and surprisingly clean for an alleyway, white snow gathered in the corners and cobblestones lining the ground. Just before they reached the street, Kevin stopped. He glanced out into the street, then let go of Awais’s hand and turned, taking him by the shoulders and gently easing him back against the bricks, sliding his hands up to his shoulders. Awais’s back hit as his eyes met Kevin’s. His hands came up without conscious decision and they were kissing. Not the soft, gentle kissing from the bar either. This kiss was different. Kevin dropped his hands to Awais’s waist, sliding them under his sweater, and lower, as his mouth moved against Awais’s. He kissed greedily, pressing him into the wall, his pelvis flush against Awais’s and his hands pulling them closer together. Awais buried his hands in Kevin’s silver hair, feeling it tangle under his fingers. He wanted to pull him apart, destroy his carefully groomed exterior, leave him panting and disheveled.
Kevin nipped at his bottom lip, then pulled back to kiss the hinge of his jaw. Awais let his head fall back against the brick, his eyes closing as Kevin nosed behind his ear, hot
breath making him shiver. “Apartment,” he said as Kevin’s thigh slid between his. He groaned. “Unless you want me to blow you in the alley.”
Kevin let out a shuddery moan. “I have to be able to walk with a little dignity if you want me to take you home,” he whispered. “God, don’t say things like that.”
“You’re the one who manhandled me next to a dumpster,” said Awais. “I feel about seventeen right now. Can we please get somewhere with a bed?”
“Bed. Yes. Okay.” Kevin leaned his forehead on Awais’s shoulder, and Awais bent his head to bury his nose in Kevin’s hair. Kevin shivered and didn’t move away.
“Let’s go,” said Awais. “I can’t move until you do.”
He felt Kevin’s throat bob as he swallowed and lifted his head, pressing a shockingly gentle kiss against the corner of Awais’s lips. “Okay. Let’s go home.”
*
The walk to Kevin’s building was short, but it felt like an eternity in the dark, cold streets. Occasionally he heard the sounds of partying from houses and buildings, but mostly the air hung still, the year fresh. It felt like something new, like the crisp, cold air could turn into anything at any moment. Awais’s hand was hot in his, his steps quick and even behind Kevin’s. He pulled him into the foyer and couldn’t resist tugging him in for another kiss.
This time Awais took the lead as soon as Kevin’s mouth touched his, grabbing Kevin’s coat by the collar and crowding him against the mailboxes. He leaned close, murmuring, “When I saw you here, I wanted to take you apart.”
Kevin shivered at the feel of Awais’s beard against his throat.
“I wanted to press the creases out of your shirt and leave you breathless.” He kissed Kevin’s neck, grabbing his ass and yanking his hips against his own. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“I couldn’t stop staring at you,” said Kevin. His blood pounded in his veins.
“I know,” said Awais. “It made me want you even more. I knew you wanted me. I didn’t think you’d let yourself have me.”
“I almost didn’t.” Kevin pulled Awais’s face upward to meet his own and kissed him hard, nearly hard enough to bruise, letting his lips drift open to taste Awais.
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