by TJ Klune
Darren said, “Meep,” and it was almost enough to break through the fuzz in my head.
“I would probably pay to see that,” Sandy said. He frowned. “Never mind. I just realized I’m extremely possessive and would probably cut a bitch if that happened.”
“Corey?” Charlie asked. “You haven’t said anything.”
I needed to articulate exactly how I was feeling. “Blargh,” I said. “Urgh. Marf.” Perfect. That about summed it up.
Darren grabbed the sides of my head and tilted me back. He sat forward and peered down at me. “I think he’s broken,” he said. He pushed me forward again so that I could stare off into nothing.
“Why tell us now?” Paul asked. “I mean, I get the enjoyment of seeing Corey drooling over the thought of—” He managed to duck when I snapped out of it and threw the umbrella from my fruity drink at him. I was aiming for his eye. He was quicker than I expected.
Wheels yawned as he opened his eyes. He went back to sleep when Vince rubbed his ears.
“I’m not drooling,” I managed to say. It certainly didn’t help that I had to wipe drool from my chin.
“Sure you’re not,” Paul said. “But this seems like something we should have heard from Jeremy if he wanted any of us to know.”
“Two reasons,” Charlie said. “First, it was unavoidable. I was in the office with Mike today when he got a call from the owner of Build-a-Bear. He wanted to know if Helena was available Sunday for the final show. Mike told him as long as it didn’t interfere with her regular show, he didn’t see why not. I told him I’d handle it.”
“That’s certainly flattering,” Sandy said. “Short notice, though. I don’t know if I can put together anything that quickly.”
Charlie nodded. “They had a queen coming in from Phoenix that canceled at the last minute. They were going to have a replacement drive down—”
Helena came roaring forward. “From Phoenix?” she hissed. “You’re telling me a queen from Phoenix was going to put her filth all over my town? Oh, not on my watch. I’ll be there, and you can bet I’m going to give those bear men the show of their lives. They won’t even be able to pronounce Phoenix by the time I’m done with them.”
“I thought you’d see the light,” Charlie said dryly. “And I knew that if you agreed, you’d figure it out when you got there. And there was a chance that the others might come and see for themselves anyway.”
“And the second reason?” Darren asked.
Charlie looked at me again. “Something Robert told me. Said that Jeremy was a little down after our meal. Apparently our Corey here invited him to Jack It that night, but he had to decline.”
“You did what?” Sandy asked me. “You never told me that.”
“He was busy,” I said faintly. “That’s what he said. That he was busy for the next couple of weeks and….” I shook my head. “I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to push.”
Charlie hesitated. Then, “I want you all to know something, and I want it to stay in this room. You understand me? I mean it. I already don’t like this much as it is, but I think it’s important.”
“Of course, Charlie,” Paul said. “We won’t say anything if you don’t want us to.”
“Good.” He took another sip of his beer. “Robert… he says….” Charlie sighed. “He says he thinks Jeremy is a little lonely. He’s got his friends, but Robert doesn’t think they’re very close.”
“The Super Gays,” I said. “He’s friends with some of the Super Gays.”
I thought Sandy was going into shock. “He’s Mr. Leatherman and a Super Gay? Oh my god, my supreme gayness is fading. How did I not know any of this?” He grabbed Darren’s hand and placed it against his forehead. “Do you feel it?” he whispered. “Do you feel it fading? It’s… getting… so dark.”
Darren jerked his hand away. “Oh Jesus. Nothing’s fading. You’re still the biggest queen in history.”
“And you love me.”
Darren muttered under his breath that he most certainly did.
“Robert’s not too fond of the Super Gays,” Charlie said. “He’s met a few of them, and he wasn’t impressed, though he didn’t say anything to Jeremy. And I don’t know if Jeremy fits with them like you think.”
“He’s a college professor,” Vince said. “How much can he possibly make from that to be considered a Super Gay?” He looked around. “No, seriously. I’m asking. I have no idea how much college professors make.”
“He’s got some friends in the leather community, but no one important to him,” Charlie said. “From what I gather, he’s quite popular. But there’s a difference between having admirers and having people you can actually talk to. Sandy, you would know that better than anyone. It’s a face you put on. It’s part of you, but it’s still a face.”
Sandy nodded. “It can be… overwhelming.” He glanced around the room at us. “Without you guys, I don’t know if I’d be able to do it.”
I was jostled a little when Darren reached over and wrapped an arm around Sandy’s shoulders, pulling him close. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he whispered as he kissed the side of Sandy’s head.
“I still don’t understand,” I admitted. I was slowly coming to realize that things were infinitely more complicated than I expected. And though I’d never admit it out loud, I now had all the proof I needed that it was best to get over this… thing I had for Jeremy. If what Charlie was saying was true (and I had no reason to think it wasn’t), Jeremy wouldn’t be interested in someone like me. He probably wanted someone just like him, someone who shared the lifestyle and the kink. I didn’t. And it was fine. Because it was only a crush. That was it.
I should have been relieved.
It hurt more than I expected.
“I think he could use some friends,” Charlie said, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t quite figure out. “And you kids are good at finding those who need that. You give them a place to belong.” His voice was gruff. “You make them feel like they have a home. My momma, she had this patchwork quilt. She got it at a church auction when I just a kid. She was real proud of it. She hung it on the wall. I loved it because it had all these little squares that didn’t seem to belong together, but when you looked at it as a whole, you could see it was just right. That’s what you all are to me. Funny little squares who make something wonderful.” He swallowed thickly. “Seems like it’s only right to share that with others if you can, you know?”
Shockingly, it was Darren who sniffled first. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “I knew there was a reason I shouldn’t have come over here.”
Sandy and Paul were wiping their eyes. Vince hugged Wheels close, much to his consternation. But since he was a dog, he forgot he was annoyed two seconds later and started licking Vince’s face. I didn’t blame him. Sometimes I wanted to do the same.
“Hell,” Sandy said, “what’s one more? I’ve always said our group could use a hot professor slash director of a LGBTQ community center slash leather god.”
“You did say that,” Paul said with a frown. “And I thought it was weird at the time because it was so oddly specific.”
“I have the sight like Nana,” Sandy replied. “It runs in the family.”
Darren turned to look at them. “But you’re not related to—”
“Darren,” Sandy said lightly. “Shut up.”
Darren did.
Sandy glanced down at me. “What do you think, baby doll?”
I shrugged awkwardly. “Seems like a group decision, right?”
Sandy wasn’t taking my shit. I knew this when he said, “I’m not taking your shit.”
I sighed. “It’s fine. I’m not—it’s fine.”
Sandy nodded slowly, and I knew this conversation wasn’t over. I was thankful when he seemed to let it go for now. “All in favor?”
“Whatever,” Darren said.
“Why not?” Paul said. “Being an adult and trying to make friends is hard, especially when most people suck
.”
“I have no idea what we’re doing,” Vince said.
“Just say yes, Vince,” Paul told him.
“Yes, Vince,” Vince said promptly. He grinned at Paul so brightly, my underwear almost fell off. “Just kidding. I know what you meant. Jeremy is an okay dude. And I bet he has a leather harness I could borrow. I think I’d look good in it.”
“Oh sweat balls,” Paul breathed. “Yes. That. Let’s do that.”
“Then that’s decided,” Sandy said. “Now all that remains is deciding how we should go about this. I have an idea, of course, and I know you’re all just going to love it.”
I had a sinking feeling about this. “Maybe we should wait and—”
“Corey is exactly right,” Sandy said, and I sighed in relief. And then he said, “We’re all going to go undercover to Build-a-Bear Sweat Shop tomorrow night to support our new friend. And we will be dressing for the part.”
Goddammit.
“WE’RE NOT doing a montage,” I snarled the next morning.
“Of course not,” Sandy said, sipping his coffee in the kitchen. “Why, the very thought is just ridiculous. Now, let’s figure out what we’re going to wear by trying on different outfits and either shaking our heads or giving thumbs-up to whoever is modeling, and all the while, cheesy music is playing in the background.”
“That’s the very definition of a montage!”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Sandy said daintily. “Now hurry up and finish your breakfast. We have appointments to keep today that are absolutely not related to a montage.”
I finished my Cheerios angrily.
Sandy wasn’t impressed.
It probably had something to do with the milk dripping down my chin.
SCENE: #1.
Location: Sandy’s hairstylist.
Mood: less than jovial.
“You do not want to fuck with a black man’s hair,” I said, sitting in the chair while Sandy’s hairstylist stood behind me, an eager expression on his face.
“Honey,” Sandy said, standing next to the chair, “Flavius is one of the most in-demand hair people in Tucson. He also styles many of my wigs. You do not want to know what I had to do in order to get us in on such short notice.”
“He threatened me,” Flavius said cheerfully. He was a black man with thick dreads that hung on his shoulders, brightly colored beads woven into the ends. “And when Helena Handbasket threatens you, you do exactly what she wants.”
Sandy pinched his cheek. “I do love you so. Now, here’s what I’m thinking.”
I gripped the armrests tightly while they chattered on behind me. I stared at myself in the mirror. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this. My hair was long. It’d been that way for years. I had a love/hate relationship with it. Depending on any given day, I either liked it straightened or allowed it to kink up as it naturally did. But I also knew that if I wanted to end this right now, Sandy wouldn’t argue with me. He pushed boundaries but backed off when he was told. Most of the time.
Flavius (Jesus Christ, that couldn’t be his real name) ran his fingers through my hair, setting it over my right shoulder. “Your hair is gorgeous.”
And fuck him for being so earnest. “Thank you,” I muttered. “That’s very nice of you to say.”
“Short,” Sandy said. “I’m thinking something short. Tight on the sides and high on the top. I’m not necessarily talking masculine, either. Corey needs to be free to express himself however he wants.”
Flavius nodded. “I can do that.” He snipped his scissors experimentally.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. But you’re paying for this.”
Sandy squeezed my shoulder. “Baby doll, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Tell me to fuck off if you want. We’ll leave and never speak of it again.”
I knew he meant it. He wouldn’t force me into anything. “It’ll grow back.”
He kissed me on the cheek before standing upright again. “Flavius! I summon you!”
And as Flavius descended, cheesy music began to play overhead, and I hated everything.
I closed my eyes.
“DONE,” FLAVIUS said a couple hours later, panting as if he’d just had a religious experience. Or an orgasm. “My greatest creation. My finest hour. I have been to Nirvana, and it was glorious.”
I opened my eyes.
And stared at my reflection.
The sides and back of my head had been shaved closely. The hair on top of my head was in a small afro, the tight curls bouncing as I turned side to side to see what he’d done. I still looked like me, just… different.
I reached up and ran my fingers through it. It felt softer than I’d ever felt before. It was almost shocking, and I felt a small cramp in my stomach, wondering if I’d made a mistake.
Flavius leaned over, his hands on my shoulders. “You were beautiful before,” he said quietly. “And you’re beautiful now. No more, no less. This will work with whatever you’re feeling. It doesn’t matter if you’re a man or a woman. And if you ever want to change it again, you come and ask for Flavius. It will be on me.”
The cramp lessened slightly. “You think it looks all right?”
He laughed. “Darling, if my wife wasn’t in the picture, I’d be scooping you up for myself. Hell, she might not even have a problem with it now. Now, let’s talk some products that Sandy will be paying for.”
“Spare no expense,” I told him.
He grinned at my reflection. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
SCENE: #2.
Location: Charlie’s house.
Mood: a little more jovial.
Charlie lived in a quiet neighborhood on the opposite side of downtown from Sandy’s house. It was lined with palm trees, and since in Tucson grass was mostly for people like the Super Gays, his front yard was white rocks and thorny bushes.
The house itself was small. It had two bedrooms and a single bathroom. The kitchen was bright and airy, multiple windows streaming in sunlight. The floors were all tile, as they mostly were in the Southwest. It’d been a little unnerving to see wood floors almost everywhere I went when I’d gone to school back East.
Charlie was back in his bedroom with Paul, while the rest of us were sitting in the living room, waiting to see what would happen. Paul seemed almost as nervous as I was, and that made me sad.
While I was closer to Sandy than Paul, I thought I understood Paul a little bit better. He had struggled with his appearance for most of his life. He’d been a big kid who’d grown up into a big adult. It’d taken him a long time to accept how he looked, and there were days I knew he still had issues with it. But that was a human thing, not just a Paul or Corey/Kori thing. He’d told me once that when he and Vince first started hanging out (“Mostly against my will,” he said with a fond smile), he wondered often if he needed to change how he looked.
I could see what he meant, much as I hated it. Paul had extra pounds. Vince was fit as fuck. His biceps had biceps. And his brother, the Homo Jock King, was even more jacked. It had to be a combination of genetics, luck, and steroids.
But Vince didn’t care about shit like that, as Paul soon found out. I wished I could have been here for those days just to see Vince following Paul around like a lovesick puppy. It was sickeningly sweet. And Paul needed to give himself more credit. He really was attractive. I didn’t think he had anything to worry about. But that still didn’t stop him (or me) from being nervous as Charlie led him to the bedroom to get him ready.
“I bet he’s going to look so fucking hot,” Vince growled aggressively. “I can’t promise I won’t do something about it either.”
I scooted as far away from Vince as I could. Sandy and Paul had once gone to a Gallagher show, the comic who smashed fruit with a sledgehammer. They said it was sticky and gross and that the plastic coverings they’d gotten for sitting in the second row hadn’t helped much.
I figured it was going to be something like that. I didn’t want V
ince to smash Paul’s watermelon where some of it could get in my mouth.
Sandy was in the kitchen, talking to Darren on the phone. Darren had been called in to his office, and Sandy was telling him that he’d already picked out what Darren was going to wear. I could practically hear Darren protesting but knew it was all for show. The Queen had tamed the King, and he’d do whatever Sandy asked.
“This is going to be fun,” Vince said, his libido apparently ebbing slightly, for which I was eternally grateful. I had a feeling it wouldn’t last long, but I would take what I could get.
“Maybe,” I muttered. “Or it could blow up in our faces and turn out to be the worst thing we’ve ever done.”
He eyed me up and down. “I like your hair.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m going to lay on you now.”
“What? Vince, no! You’re not going to—”
But when Vince Melody Auster wanted to lie on you, it happened. He jerked my legs up onto the couch, pulled me underneath him, and stretched out on top of me, his head smooshing down my freshly done hair. He was heavy, outweighing me by a good sixty pounds, and I could barely breathe.
It felt good.
“That’s better,” he said happily. “You looked like you needed it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumbled into his neck. He smelled good. Homo jocks usually did. It was how they trapped unsuspecting normal people.
“Nah,” he said. “You do. But if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay. We can just stay like this for however long you need.”
“Or however long it takes for Paul to come out.”
“That too,” he agreed. “But if I know Paul, he’s arguing with Charlie about every single little thing, so we have time.”
“He’s nervous.”
Vince nodded against the top of my head. “Yeah. It’s not really in his comfort zone, you know? But I think it’s important that we try new things, because if we don’t, how will we know if we like them or not?”