by D. J. Manly
“…’cause that would be your job?” Michael met his gaze with a slow smile appearing on his lips.
Jason didn’t reply.
“I wasn’t born yesterday. And don’t worry, stud, I won’t be encroaching on your territory. I wouldn’t do that one if he was the last cock on earth.”
“You are so full of shit. I saw your eyes pop out of your head when you saw him.”
Before Michael could answer, Jason disappeared down the hallway.
Michael put down his bag. As soon as he was alone, he sat on the bed and closed his eyes, trying to digest everything. He came here expecting some awkwardness, but nothing like that. He thought he’d be greeted by his dad’s lover, not his adopted son! God damn his father! That Anthony guy had no rights in all this. HE was Michael’s biological son. And his father hadn’t even bothered to let him know that he’d lost his lover, or had adopted a kid, possibly two. He wasn’t sure where this Jason guy figured in all this either.
Michael lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. He wondered if Anthony was really their adopted son, or was he simply some stud they’d picked up to party with. He was one hell of a hunk. He was young, probably in his middle twenties, and sexy as hell. God knows what went on with the three of them, not to mention this Jason guy. They were probably a couple of perverts who liked young boys.
Michael got up and looked out the window. It was a beautiful house with a great view. This could very well end up being his. Michael opened the bedroom door and walked down the hallway. He paused at a room just at the top of the stairs. The door stood open, so he wandered in.
The furniture was all oak…the bed, the bureaus, and the night tables. The bed was huge and there were mirrors all around the walls and on the ceiling, expensive mirrors. Kinky. On the left was a huge closet, on the right, a bathroom with shower and hot tub. It was enormous. Michael peeked in and whistled.
He turned around. He glanced up over the bed and caught his breath. There was a huge oil painting hanging there. It was a painting of the bed below it and two men in it, one of those men was a man he’d never seen before, probably Daniel, the other one had to be his father. They were both naked. His father was being held within the other man’s arms. He was smiling. It was breathtaking. They were both extremely attractive men.
“What are you doing in here?” a voice demanded suddenly.
Michael turned around to see Anthony standing there, with only a towel hitched around his waist.
Michael literally licked his lips. God, what a body. “Ah, sorry,” he replied, his gaze trying to settle on anything but him. “I didn’t know ah…this was off limits. Given the fact that I may turn out to be the owner of this house, don’t you think I better get to know it a bit?”
“You really are a smug little bastard, aren’t you?” Anthony clenched and unclenched his jaw.
Michael moved closer to him and laughed slightly. “I’m not being smug at all. Come on, baby, let’s be honest here. Between you and me, you guys must have had some hot times in this room.” He glanced around, looking up at the mirrors on the ceiling. “You and my dad, his lover, and that Jason kid. It’s not hard to…”
The blow came so fast he didn’t even see it coming. It caught him on the left side right below his eye. “Fuck,” he yelled, stumbling backwards. He raised his hand to his eye, wincing. “What in hell did you do that for?”
Anthony had a sneer on his lips. “To teach you some manners.”
Chapter Two
It was the night before Michael’s funeral and almost everyone from Impressions stopped by for a drink at the house. They talked about Michael and Daniel, and about the upcoming service. There were a few tears.
Michael’s son had made himself scarce, and every time someone mentioned him, Anthony changed the subject. “I wanted to tell you all that I’m upgrading security at the club,” he announced. He knew people were nervous after what had happened. “From now on there will be a security guard on duty at the back and the front, and I’ve extended their hours until after the club is closed and everyone is gone.”
“Thanks, honey,” Juan said. “That puts my mind at ease. There are a lot of crazies out there.”
Anthony reached over and touched his hand. “Don’t worry. I promise you that you will all be safe. You have my word.”
Finally when everyone left and he was alone with Sandy and Jason on the patio, Sandy came right out and boldly asked him, “Did you punch Michael?”
Jason immediately leaned forward in his chair to listen.
“Yeah, I did,” he said without expression, lifting a glass of red wine to his lips. “How did you know?”
Sandy laughed, shaking his head. “I saw him leave yesterday, an hour or so after he’d arrived. He looked like he had a black eye.”
Jason gasped loudly. “You slugged him?”
Anthony ignored him. “Did he take his bag?” he asked Sandy.
“No.”
“Too bad.” Anthony finished the glass, and refilled it. “Guess I’ll have to hit him harder next time.”
Jason laughed.
“And I’m telling you all now, I plan to get plastered, so no nagging from either of you tonight.”
Sandy met his gaze. “I won’t nag.”
“Drink all you want, baby,” Jason said. “I’m glad you slugged him.”
“So, care to tell me why you punched him?” Sandy persisted.
“Well, because he was being an arrogant little shithead, that’s why.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Jason muttered.
“What did he say?” Sandy wanted to know.
“First, he told me this house was going to be his, then he practically called Jason and me prostitutes.”
“What?” Jason hopped out of his seat.
“Relax. I think I set him straight.” Anthony put a hand up. “I’d rather not get into the details.”
“I’m sorry, Anthony,” Sandy said.
Anthony shrugged.
Jason shook his head. “He thought we were sleeping with Michael?”
“And with each other, and with Daniel before he died,” Anthony added.
“Did you?” Sandy asked suddenly.
“Did I what?” Anthony asked.
“Ever?”
“Sleep with Daniel? He was my father for Christ’s sake.”
“No, not with Daniel. After Daniel died. Did you and Michael…?” Sandy trailed off.
Anthony froze. God, had Michael told Sandy about that, or was it Jason?
“You don’t have to answer,” Sandy said.
“Did you tell him that?” Anthony glared at Jason. He had always suspected that he had heard them that night.
Jason shook his head, but he looked guilty. Anthony knew he was lying. “I don’t know anything about it. Did you sleep with Michael after Daniel died?”
The question hung in the air. Anthony closed his eyes. Michael had been so sad, both of them were sad. They had loved Daniel so much. Michael needed him, needed the comfort, and maybe he needed Michael too. Making love to Daniel’s lover had made him feel so close to him again. They had both cried after, sobbed like babies in each others arms. It had never happened again. They didn’t even speak of it after. Maybe it hadn’t meant anything. Maybe it had meant too much.
“Anthony?” Jason said his name now.
“It’s nothing I care to talk about,” he said stiffly, getting up and walking back into the house.
He stood in that bedroom gazing up at the picture of Daniel and Michael for the longest time. God, they had really loved each other, and they’d had love to spare, love they gave to everyone around them. Daniel had been the only father he’d ever known, and losing him had almost incapacitated him. He had to stay close to Michael, because Michael was all he’d had left of Daniel.
Anthony sank down on the bed. How could he bury Michael tomorrow? He was the last of Daniel, his father. He probably should have gone on with his life when Daniel died, but Michael had needed
him so much. Sure, part of it was an excuse, a chance to run away from Sandy, who he knew was falling in love with him. Love terrified him. It had always hurt. He had loved his mother but she had died when he was seven years old. After that his father began to drink, and he pounded his pain out on him. When he’d begun to sell his body on the streets, love hurt again. Vicious Johns who had fucked him rough and dry, knocked him around, and then threw the money at him, and tossed him out in the cold.
Daniel had been so gentle, so kind, and although it took him months to begin to trust him, to really believe that he and Michael didn’t want sex from him, eventually he came to accept that love. Now the only two people in the world who had ever really cared about him were dead. Something inside of him felt dead as well.
He stood up and walked over to the small bar in the corner of the room. He took out a bottle of whiskey and unscrewed the cap. He went to lie on the bed, the bed where one night he had held Michael in his arms, telling him that everything was going to be all right; and he began to drink. He drank until he could no longer see, until he could no longer feel anything, until he passed out.
* * * * *
Michael didn’t show up until the service began. He wore a blue suit which matched the shiner Anthony had given him. He didn’t come over and sit with Anthony. Instead, he sat near the middle among a group of strangers.
Sandy, along with Jason and all the other guys from the club sat in the front with Anthony, who wore a black suit and kept his head down.
Many people got up and spoke about Michael, how kind he was, how talented and generous. Anthony knew he was expected to say something but he wasn’t sure if he could get through it. When the time came, Jason actually stood up with him and they both went together to the podium to speak. A huge picture of Michael sat up front. He was wearing a casual brown sweater, and he was smiling. Anthony had always liked that picture of him.
Anthony cleared his throat and looked out over the crowd. He met Michael’s son’s gaze for a second, then moved on. God, was that all there was left of Michael? “I thank you all for coming. I had a speech prepared but I don’t think I’m going to say it. I’m just going to say this…” His voice broke. He felt Jason touch his arm, and he reached out and squeezed his hand. “Michael had the most precious heart. He was generous to a fault, funny, loving, and he was a father to me.” Tears stung his eyes. “He didn’t deserve to die that way. He didn’t deserve to…” Anthony clenched his fists. “I’m sorry,” he said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “There are so many people here today…and outside…those who couldn’t get in…I…” He walked over and placed a hand on Michael’s picture. “I love you,” he mouthed, then turned and walked out the side door.
A few minutes later the door opened. Anthony expected to see Sandy there, but who he saw was Michael. He looked as if he’d been crying too. “I get all choked up at these things.”
Anthony nodded, glancing over at the traffic zooming down the street in front of the funeral home.
“There are a lot of people here.”
“Yeah,” Anthony replied.
“Look, I know we…well…I apologise for what I said. It was out of line.”
Anthony looked up at him. “Okay. I guess I shouldn’t have hit you.”
“You have one hell of a right hook,” Michael said.
Anthony nodded.
“So, tell me, what exactly did happen to my father?”
“He was beaten to death by some gay bashers.”
“I knew it was something like that. I guess I had to hear it myself. Do they know who did it?”
“Not yet. They probably won’t find them.”
“You sound like it’s because…”
“In part.”
“Did you see them?”
“Yes, and I guarantee you, I’ll find them.”
Michael looked down for a second. “So, where’s the reception?”
“At the club. The guys have a show prepared. Michael would have liked that. You don’t have to come.”
“I’ll come. Look, we better get back in there. They’re waiting for us to carry out the coffin.”
“You going to…?”
“Yeah. I’ll give you a hand.”
Anthony swallowed, and opened the door, letting Michael in before him. Michael stood in back of him when Anthony went to lift the left front end of the coffin. Jason was on the right side. Sandy, Juan, Hollio, and Jeff helped out also.
Michael’s coffin was lowered into the ground right beside Daniel. On his gravestone was written, “Here lies my eternal love, with whom I shall soon be reunited.”
The minister said a few words and people began to leave, throwing roses on the grave as they went. Anthony and Jason stayed in front of the grave for a few minutes, their arms around each other, and Michael stood a few feet away. Anthony looked over at him, then, pulled Jason away from the grave. Jason was sobbing. He talked softly to him as he headed back to the car. He turned around once to look and noticed that Michael had moved closer. Anthony got into the car with Jason and told the driver to take them to Impressions.
* * * * *
The show was a tribute to Michael, with some videotaped images of former performances. The guys did some of the personalities Michael loved to do and the crowd was moved to tears. The food was catered and Anthony went into manager mode. It helped to take his mind off everything. It was going to be later when the pain would seize him again. Sandy was leaving tonight to join his band, and it would only be him and Jason. He wasn’t sure what Michael would do. He would stay until the reading of the will tomorrow and then probably be gone.
Anthony had been so busy, he hadn’t even realised that Michael was there until he felt him tap him on the shoulder. “Can I help you with anything?”
“No,” he said. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
“The tribute was great. It gave me a chance to see my father working.”
“Yeah, well I know you don’t approve so…”
“What time is the meeting with the lawyer tomorrow?”
“One in the afternoon.”
“I can get a room tonight if you don’t want me to stay at the house. It’s okay.”
“Come back to the house. We’ll go together tomorrow.”
Michael nodded. “Thanks. I’m going to go now. I’ll ah…try not to get back too late.”
“Doesn’t matter. Just ring the bell. I’ll let you in.”
He was gone, and for some reason Anthony was relieved.
* * * * *
Sandy was hugging everyone goodbye. Anthony held onto him for a long time. Before he left, Sandy said, “Come back to me, Anthony.”
Anthony understood what he was saying. He had no answer to give him now. It was almost midnight by the time most people had left. Juan and Jeff were trying to talk him into opening the club up sooner.
“Look, I don’t even know who owns this club any more,” Anthony said. “Let’s wait and see until after the lawyer’s meeting tomorrow.”
“If you don’t own it, I’m not working here any more,” Juan said. “If you think I’m working for that little shit, forget it.”
Anthony pursed his lips and remained quiet. If Michael inherited the club, everyone could lose their job. He was sure he’d sell it.
Finally, around one o’clock Anthony went home alone. Jason went off with some stranger, which was his style, and Michael was nowhere to be seen. When Anthony got home, his answering machine was full. There was a shit-load of messages from people who knew Michael but for some reason hadn’t made it to the service, and some other messages from the media wanting a story. He switched off the machine and sighed.
The house was deathly silent, and Anthony knew that the silence was going to punish him with memories. He wished that Jason would have come home. At least they could have sat and talked, but Jason had his own way of dealing with pain. Maybe he should try it.
He was just about to sit down when the doorbell rang, and Anthony went to answe
r it. He was just a little disappointed to see Michael standing there, rather than Jason.
“Expecting someone else?” Michael asked.
Anthony let him in. “Jason, I guess.”
“Where is he?”
“Probably getting laid.”
“Ah, I think I saw him.”
“You were at the baths?”
“No, some club called Heaven.”
Anthony walked back into the living room. “It’s possible. It’s where we all hang out.”
Michael took a seat. “You too?”
“Sometimes, when I’m not managing the club.” Anthony shrugged out of his suit jacket, took off his tie, and threw himself on the sofa. “I don’t have a lot of time off.”
“It’s nice, the club.”
“Yeah.”
“Not like the New York gay bars.”
“Uh huh.” Anthony got the distinct impression that he was trying to make small talk.
“Are you originally from here?”
“Well, Santa Cruz, actually.”
“I like it here. People are wild.”
“It’s California.”
Michael smiled.
“When you smile, you look just like your father.”
“I noticed that…from the video.”
“He was a great looking man.”
“Thanks. I take that as a compliment.”
Anthony inclined his head.
“I’m better looking without the black eye.”
Anthony laughed slightly.
“I appreciate how much you loved my father. I…well…I’m having a hard time feeling something except…resentment.”
“Why resentment?”
“Because you took my place. He just gave up on me and…”
“That’s not true. You gave up on him. He sent you a card every year on your birthday. They came back to him.”
“I…I never saw them.”
“Your mother sent them back I assume. He stopped eventually, but he wrote you. You wrote back.”
“Yes, but not what he wanted to hear.”
“No.”
“Perhaps I wasn’t ready to hear him then.” Michael shrugged. “He left me and now I find out he found a replacement.”