by Hayes, Lane
“That was well before RuPaul’s Drag Race. Drag wasn’t glamorized or popular with the masses who were fascinated by the spectacle of a glimpse at the raunchy side of queer living in the ’90s. In a way, it was pure theater and the actors provided both comic relief and a cultural touchstone for what was happening on our streets. Our friends were dying of AIDS, and we were afraid. But giving up was another kind of death. Let me tell you something, Levi 501.…There is nothing more powerful than a man dressed as a woman with a righteous cause and a story to tell. And to know that underneath it is a gay boy who’s had to pull himself up off the ground time and time again…” I paused to let out a low whistle. “That takes serious fucking balls. I’m proud of my days as a queen.”
“Wow. I’m—I had no idea. But I can see it. I wasn’t trying to flatter you earlier. You are beautiful,” he said, looking slightly awestruck.
“Thank you. But the best thing about doing drag was that it showed me I was strong. I’d rather be strong than pretty any day.”
Two servers descended to deliver our pizza and salads. I gently pulled a slice from the tray and set it on my plate then dusted my food liberally with hot peppers and parmesan. Levi speared a bite of lettuce before pausing with his fork in midair.
“What was your drag name?”
“Jordana.”
“That’s it? Jordana sounds kind of tame. I thought bawdy, raunchy, and suggestive names were the norm for any self-respecting queen,” he teased.
I flashed a mischievous grin and nodded emphatically. “My full name was Jordana Banana, Queen Bitch of Habana. Part of the schtick was explaining that I was Mexican, not Cuban. I made it into this teaching moment about Latino culture, but I kept it funny, you know?”
“Where did the banana fit in?”
I winked meaningfully. “I ate a banana during every act.”
“What? Oh. Like…” He made a lewd tongue in cheek gesture before picking up his pizza and taking a healthy bite.
I chuckled. “Exactly. You wouldn’t believe how much money a roomful of gays were willing to pay for the thrill of seeing me slowly unpeel a banana and then make love to it…inch by inch.”
Levi set his pizza crust aside and reached for his napkin. He dabbed at the corner of his mouth and fixed me with a hungry look that went straight to my cock.
“We’d better change the subject,” he growled.
“Um, yes. Well, soon after, I was rescued by a charming prince and whisked off to the land of grape juice and here I am,” I singsonged.
“Your husband?”
I inhaled deeply then shook my head. “We never married, but yes, Mike was my prince charming. But I’d rather not cry in my limoncello, so tell me about you and the chef. What was his name again?”
“Kevin,” he sighed.
“Go on. How did you come together? How did you fall apart? Is he the one that got away or the one you hope stays away? And do eat. This pizza is divine,” I urged, motioning manically to his plate.
Levi gave me an amused half smile and picked up his fork. “Long story short. We met in line at Starbucks. We bumped into each other every day for a month before I worked up the nerve to say hi. I wasn’t sure if he was gay or not. And though I knew I was, I wasn’t sure how to be…out, if you know what I mean.”
“I think I do, but it’s been a while since I’ve been in a closet that wasn’t specifically for clothes. How did you woo him? Don’t tell me you offered him a ride on your pink scooter.”
Levi snorted then leaned across the table. “Nope. You’re the only guy I’ve ever taken for a ride on my—”
“Are you gentlemen enjoying your meal?” the waiter asked, sidling over with a water pitcher.
I assured him we were and then turned to Levi with a faux-surprised look on my face. “Aren’t you scandalous? You know he’s going back to the kitchen to tell everyone about me riding your pink—”
Levi choked on his beer. “Jesus, Geordie!”
I busted up laughing. “Oh, who cares? Let them think what they want. It’s what keeps us entertained in life, isn’t it? Back to your beau. So you won his heart over a venti latte with a double shot of espresso, and then what happened?”
“We fizzled out, I guess. We were together for three years and I don’t know…I thought we wanted the same things, but I was wrong. We were set to move here together and start a life and…he couldn’t handle it.”
I gave him a shrewd sideways glance. “Something is missing. I know I’m being terribly nosy but—”
“He changed his mind.”
“About what?”
“Me. Us.”
“Oh.”
Levi huffed. “In a way, I got what I asked for. He wasn’t ready to be out and I pushed, and he freaked and now here I am.”
“So you really are newly out of the closet,” I commented.
“Yeah. I didn’t mean for it to be that way. I mean…I thought I was straight when I was in high school until I got a boner every time Mickey Bronson went to bat. Then I figured it was a bi thing, and I’d have to keep the ‘gay’ side of my sexuality under wraps until my baseball career was over. I had girlfriends and I fooled around, and I thought I had it under control. But the first time I kissed a guy, I knew for sure I was gay. And I wasn’t a little gay either. I was a one hundred percent rainbow-certified homo.”
“How old were you?”
“Nineteen.”
An awkward silence filled the space between us. I was certainly curious about his journey from straight dude to homo jock but didn’t want to push him for an old story he might not want to share. Lord knew I had a fuckton of those myself. But when he tossed another piece of pizza onto his plate and reached for the parmesan, I was suddenly anxious not to let the moment slip away.
“And then what? What did you do?” I prodded.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I don’t know if this makes any sense, but I felt trapped by what I wanted and who I was. There was no way I could be an out and proud gay baseball player eighteen years ago. No chance. I’d have spent one season on the bench and been cut the next. And you can say I’m a coward or an opportunistic dickhead, and you’d probably be right. But I had a very big fucking dream, and I knew without a doubt that I couldn’t let anyone know the truth about me, or I’d never get my shot. So I lived a lie.”
“Did it pay off?”
Levi snorted derisively. “That would be a resounding no. Sure, I was able to do something I love, and I made some money and wise investments, but I didn’t care about the money. My dream was to play the game I loved at the highest level possible. I got close a couple of times, but I never went all the way.”
“Your ‘all the way’ and mine may be different, darling. Are saying you’ve never had anal sex or—”
Levi scowled at me then turned in his seat and scanned the neighboring tables. “No. I’m talking about the big league…not sex.”
I snickered at his put-upon expression. “Oops. Pardon moi. Is anal a no-go at the dinner table?”
Levi rolled his eyes. “Really?”
“You’ll have to forgive me. I forget the rules. It’s been so long since I’ve been on a date with a sexy, handsome man. Let me make a quick note.” I pulled out my phone and pretended to type. “Levi does not discuss anal at the dinner table.”
He shook his head and gave me a lazy grin. “You’re slightly insane. We can talk about anything you want…since this is a date.”
“I was joking. This isn’t a date,” I said, pushing my plate back. “I don’t date. But if I did, I have a strict ‘no closet case’ rule and—”
“I’m not in the closet,” he intercepted. “I’m out. That’s what I’ve been telling you. My ex wasn’t ready to be out but I was, and it ended our relationship. I don’t hate Kev. Yeah, his timing sucked balls, but he’s a good man and I wish him well. But me? I’m out. My problem is…I don’t know how to be out. I’m not like you, Geord. I’m never gonna be the guy who wears pink feathers on his sh
oes.”
“But you’ll drive around on a pink scooter?”
“Sure. Sometimes pink is just a color, and sometimes it’s a statement. I don’t know how to make a statement that feels authentic to me. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yes. You’ve been in the closet for so long, you don’t know how to snare a man.”
Levi set his fork down and stared at me for a long moment before speaking.
“I’m being serious, Geord. I’m just an average, ordinary guy who’s trying to find a new passion. I don’t mean a love affair. I mean a reason to get up in the morning and be happy the sun is shining, the refrigerator is full, and that I have a roof over my head. I’ve lived most of my life in the closet. Not because I was ashamed to be gay but because baseball mattered more to me than being out. And then I got injured and it was over. I thought coaching was a good solution to a broken dream. I could share my passion with others who love the game.”
“But you still couldn’t come out,” I supplied, picking up my fork.
“No. Truthfully, it didn’t matter to me at first. I don’t…live my sexuality the way you do. It doesn’t define me or—”
I dropped my fork noisily and growled. It was the best I could do to shut him up while I finished chewing my food. “Oh, honey. You might want to step back and try again.”
“Okay. Gay is not who I am.”
“I hate it when people say that. It sounds so straight. Like you’re compensating. Why not own it all? I’m gay, I’m Mexican, I’m tall, I have brown eyes, I talk a lot. This is who I am.”
“That’s great. I just don’t put ‘gay’ first.”
“Hmph. Well, I think that’s too bad, but I’m judgy like that. Be true to yourself, Levi Yeager. Don’t hide behind what others think you should be or how they assume you’ll act to keep the peace.”
“Uh…that’s not what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean. You’re accustomed to labels and stereotypes and you’re not sure how to wear your new tiara. But…do tell the rest of your enticing tale, Levi. I’m on the edge of my seat,” I said haughtily.
“ ‘Tell your enticing tale.’ I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”
I sighed wearily. “We have no depth between us, Levi. You aren’t the sort of trouble that will stick to me. We’re acquaintances. Nothing more. This isn’t a date, and it’s not my place to instruct you on the art of living your best gay self.”
“But you could,” he said, grabbing my wrist. “I want to learn.”
“Excuse me?” I slapped his hand and gave him a withering once-over.
“Teach me.”
“Teach you what? How to be gay?” I asked incredulously.
“Well…yeah.”
I cocked my head and studied him. He looked relatively sane. “I am not rendered speechless often, but you’ve managed it twice this evening. First your Harley turns into a Vespa and now you want a crash course in how to be a homo. Color me intrigued.”
“I know how to…”
“Fuck a guy?”
“I know how to do that just fine, Geord,” he said in a sultry voice that sent a tingle of awareness up my spine.
The air crackled between us. Heat and sex with an erotic pull that was stronger than I anticipated. I had to maneuver us back to safety, or I’d end up doing or saying something I’d regret.
“Then what are you after? A gay tutor?”
“That sounds weird. I want to be out and proud. Like you. But I’m not like you. I’m me. I can honestly say I don’t know anyone like you, Geordie.” He looked away for a moment before leaning closer. “You’re not my type at all, but my dick has been half-hard since you hopped on the back of that fucking scooter an hour ago. Every time you open your mouth, I’m torn between being slightly mortified at what you’re going to say next to thinking I’d better listen very closely ’cause I think I just met the most incredible person on the planet.”
His impassioned words spoken in a low, husky tone moved through me like liquid fire. I wasn’t sure what to think of my quickening pulse or my sudden urge to stick my tongue down his throat. I bit my bottom lip and considered him carefully.
“Well, I’m not sure what to say. I thought we were going to be font friends.”
Levi snickered softly. “Sure, but—”
I held up my hand and shook my head. “Don’t explain any further. I understand. And I can help. The first thing you need to do is announce yourself,” I advised sagely.
“Huh? How?”
“That’s what I did when I left home and whenever I was in a new situation where I felt vaguely threatened. It was my way of turning the tables and getting any uncomfortable nonsense out of the way. I’d walk into a room and announce, ‘I’m gay.’ It was so liberating. And when it no longer sent a titillating twitter around the room, I sang aloud. Which eventually led to singing show tunes and standards. Barbra, Liza, Judy, Cher…they were my calling card. I’m here, I’m queer, and I’m not going to hide. I refuse to be afraid. I refuse to back down, and I refuse to make you comfortable.”
“You’re really freaking awesome, you know that?” he beamed.
“Why, thank you,” I replied, returning his megawatt grin with one of my own.
“But you know I’m not gonna do that.”
“Announce yourself your way. Say who you are and what you want. Take control. Trust me, it’s the first step.”
“Okay.” He cleared his throat and whispered, “My name is Levi and I’m gay.”
I chuckled at his hushed theatrics. “Bravo, darling. Keep practicing. Eventually you’ll turn up the volume and—what are you doing?”
Levi’s chair scraped against the hardwood floor as he stood. He tossed a cocky grin at me then walked out of the restaurant. I furrowed my brow and watched the door for a moment before peeking out the window. I braced myself for him to reenter and do or say something silly. The thought alone made me chuckle. I set my napkin on the table and waited for the show to begin.
When he didn’t return right away, I frowned and pulled out my phone to scroll through my messages as though being unceremoniously abandoned at one of my favorite restaurants before the check arrived was a nonevent.
“Sir, would you like me to box the rest of your pizza?” the server asked when he returned. “Saul instructed me to bring you a complimentary tiramisu too. I’m happy to box that as well.”
“That’s very kind of him, but no thank you. Just the bill, please.”
“Your friend already paid.”
I did a double take and pointed at the empty chair. “Him? When?”
“I’m not sure when, but I know your tab has been closed and paid for.”
“I would have noticed if—”
The door flew open just then and Levi sailed into the crowded dining room with his arms stretched wide. His size and commanding stance would have garnered him attention, but the pink helmet on his head guaranteed it. He stopped a few feet from our table then addressed the room.
“Hello! My name is Levi and I’m gay.”
The restaurant instantly erupted in applause, catcalls, and cheers. I chuckled appreciatively at the spectacle and cheered along with the crowd. Then I stood to join him, inclining my head toward the exit. “Bravo, darling. You’ve given everyone here something to talk about over dinner. Now you may take me home.”
“One more thing.” He pulled the helmet off and set it on my head then slipped his hand in mine and fell down on one knee.
A collective gasp went around the room followed by a twittered speculation that an actual marriage proposal was happening at that very moment. Cameras flashed, and I thought I heard someone yell my name, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know what the hell was going on or how I felt about it. Was this still funny or cause for alarm?
I glared at him fiercely and hissed through my teeth, “What are you doing?”
“I’m telling you how I feel. Out loud…like you suggested.”
“No, I didn’t suggest—�
��
“Yes, you did. So here goes…I have a really big crush on you, Geordie, and I want everyone to know.” He stood then and bent to kiss my hand.
And yes, he shocked the hell out of me. Again.
I narrowed my eyes, but I couldn’t pull off an irritated look and laugh at the same time. Levi chuckled and squeezed my hand; then he pulled me through the maze of confused diners who weren’t sure if they should congratulate me or ask if this guy was sane.
The second we stepped outside, I pulled out of his grasp. I shrugged my coat on then flattened my back against the brick façade of the adjacent building and glanced up at the sky. “You shouldn’t have done that. People know me here, Levi. This is a small town, and you just started a big rumor.”
He set his forefinger under my chin and smiled. “Maybe. But I got what I wanted.”
“And what was that?”
“I made you laugh.”
I held my lopsided smirk for a second before it became a full-fledged, ear-to-ear grin. “You did.”
The ride back to Conrad Winery felt different somehow. Night had descended, and the evening air felt cool on my cheeks. I buried my face against Levi’s back and let the gentle hum of the Vespa engine lull me and keep me firmly in the present. He passed the giant iron gate emblazoned with the letter C then wended his way along the long cypress-lined drive to the winery entrance. I signaled for him to turn onto the private road leading to my house. I almost asked if he needed directions, but he seemed to know where to go, and I didn’t want to break the silence.
Levi pulled up in front of my place and turned off the engine. I unfastened the strap on my helmet then grabbed his elbow for balance and hopped off the bike.
“Thank you for the magical evening. I’ll see you soon, my fontish friend,” I singsonged.
“Fontish, eh?” he snorted and unbuckled his helmet then stood and set it over the handlebar.
“There’s no need to get up. I’ll just give you this now.”
Levi stared at the pink helmet in my hand like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He frowned as he reached out to take it from me. “Maybe you should keep it.”
“For next time?”