Volley Balls

by Tara Lain

Gareth started to reply, but two women with tourist written all over them came into the shop, exclaiming over everything being “so-o-o cute.”

  David gave Gareth a pat on the bum. “Go on and explore my town, okay? I’ve got work to do.”

  “Okay. Can I take you to lunch?”

  “I’d love it. JJ will be here by then to take over. Go on. Have fun.”

  Gareth headed for the door with both women ogling as he passed. David approached them. “Ladies, wherever are you from? Do I hear a little of the South in those charming voices?” In seconds they were eating out of his hand.

  ACROSS THE street from the gallery in an antique shop, Edge watched Gareth leave. For a second he thought that little fag who’d lured Gareth might be alone in the store, but when he looked again, he saw two women there as well. He wished he could get closer, but he was hardly inconspicuous. Being a giant with pale blond hair, he kind of stuck out. He watched Gareth idly walking down the street, window-shopping. How many times had he stared at that bloke’s ass? The way the cheeks flexed and relaxed as he walked. And when he ran? Poetry.

  Shit. Now the guy had him spouting pretty phrases. Look at him. Was it his imagination, or did the bloody pouf look… happy?

  Chapter Seven

  GARETH EXPLORED the gift store a couple of blocks down from David’s shop. He pawed through some art prints with clever and heartfelt sayings on them. While not art originals like in David’s shop, he wondered if something similar would do well in the gallery. He’d studied business in college and looked forward to getting back to it. He couldn’t help thinking of marketing strategies.

  He hummed as he walked. When was the last time he’d hummed? Hell, when was the last time he’d felt this good? Maybe in diapers. He stared in the window of a little shop. Oh man, look at that sweater. It would be great with David’s eyes. Should he—What the fuck? Edge lounged against a lamppost right across from him on the sidewalk. Bloody hell. He didn’t want to do this now. He let out his breath slowly. “Why are you here?”

  Edge pushed off from the pole. “I have time off too. I told you I liked some of the art in this town.”

  “Yeah, and you told me you hated all the poufs in this town.”

  “Yeh.”

  “Well, now there’s one more, so you should hate it double.”

  Edge sighed. “Can we talk for a few minutes?”

  Jesus. He’d been friends with Edge his whole life. Edge couldn’t help being a prejudiced asshole. He’d been raised that way like a lot of other people. And Gareth had never told him the truth or given him a chance to get used to the idea. “Okay. There’s a café over there.” He pointed to a little restaurant on a small plaza across the street.

  They ran across Forest Avenue, side by side, like they’d jogged so many times since they were kids. When they were settled at an outdoor table, Gareth glanced over to check if he could see the gallery. It was a little too far away. Just as well. If David saw him with Edge, he’d worry. They ordered coffees from the friendly waitress who told them she’d just moved from Vermont. Yeah, Laguna was a good place to move to, for certain.

  He looked at Edge. “Say your piece.”

  Edge shrugged belligerently. “Don’t have a piece. Wondered if you’re going to do the exhibitions?”

  “Have I ever missed anything I said I’d do, ever?”

  “No, but that was before—”

  “Before you decided to throw our game because you don’t want to be contaminated by a fag?”

  “Can’t help how I responded.”

  “Bullshit.” He glanced around to be sure he wasn’t entertaining the crowds, but there weren’t many people on the plaza at this hour between breakfast and lunch on a weekday.

  “Yeah, well, I’ll try not to do that again.”

  “You’ll try?”

  Edge looked at his coffee. “I won’t do it again.”

  Silence fell.

  Edge cleared his throat. “How come you never told me, mate?”

  “Was kind of tough to get a word in edgewise between you and my old man blaming everything including global warming on the bloody queers.” He sipped. “And because I’m a fucking coward who didn’t respect himself enough to be proud of what I am. I should’ve told you a long time ago and let you decide if you still wanted to be friends with me. Instead, I made you a friend under false pretenses. I’m sorry.”

  Edge frowned as if he just fully got the importance of that idea. “Yeh. That’s true.”

  More silent sipping.

  Edge seemed to screw up his face with… what? Courage? “So, did you ever fancy any of the players? I mean, did you get off on them?”

  Shit. Gareth shifted in the iron chair. “You don’t want to know that.”

  Edge glared. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Yes.”

  “Who?”

  Gareth shrugged. He didn’t want to lie any more, but evasion seemed okay. “Some of the guys are great-looking. No different than you looking at a bunch of girls playing volleyball. Doesn’t mean I was gonna jump their bones.”

  “Who?”

  “Edge….”

  “Who?”

  “You.”

  “Bloody fucking hell!” Edge was out of the chair and halfway down the street before Gareth could get a few dollars from his pocket.

  DAVID WAVED at the ladies as they carried their purchases from the store. They smiled back at him and JJ.

  JJ beamed. “Wow, they really liked the collection.”

  “Yes. We’ve had a good couple of days.” They walked back to the sales desk.

  JJ seemed ready to burst. “Guess what? That lady who liked Roman’s portrait called me and asked me to hold it until tomorrow.” He clapped his hands together. JJ was incredible. He treated the store like his own.

  “That’s fantastic. Good job, dear. You’re my secret weapon.”

  A screech came from the doorway. “Will you please tell me what in the hell you’re doing with asshole, homophobic Australians?”

  Uh-oh. Rodney. David turned. “He’s not homophobic, he’s a homo. And he’s definitely not an asshole, though I will admit he does have a lovely one.”

  Rod stopped in the middle of the gallery, hands on his narrow hips clad in pink denim. “Just how closely have you explored this lovely asshole?”

  “Up close and personal, my dear.”

  JJ eeped. “The gorgeous one? Oh my God. Mr. Dreamy Pie?”

  Rodney glared. “You’re not helping, JJ.”

  “All right, you two, enough. I really like this guy. He actually came out to his team yesterday and he’s still shell-shocked, but he’s sweet as pie.”

  Rodney crossed his arms. “You’ve eaten pie before, and it gave you indigestion.”

  David nodded. “I know, dear. But I honestly believe Gareth is different.”

  “I’ll admit, he seemed very sweet last night, to say nothing of ridiculously sexy, but I don’t want you getting hurt again.” Rodney walked over and gave David a hug.

  JJ touched his back as Rodney hugged. “And—and isn’t he going back to Australia?”

  David sighed into Rod’s shoulder. “I don’t even like to think about that.”

  JJ joined in a group embrace, surrounding both of them with his big arms.

  “Is this a private party or can anyone join?”

  David popped up his head so fast he bumped Rodney’s chin. “Hi, Gareth.”

  His two friends stepped back as Gareth walked toward them, writing new symphonies of motion. JJ sighed, and David gave him a bump in the butt. “How was your tour of the town?”

  “Pretty eventful, actually.” He stopped and extended a hand to Rodney. “Hi again. We didn’t officially meet. I’m Gareth Marshall.”

  “Rodney Mansfield.”

  “Holy hell, you’re the artist. Roman. I read your name in the brochure at the booth. Man, you’re a bloody genius.”

  David tried to control his smile. Rod might protect him through plagues and revolutions
, but praise his art and he’d eat from your hand.

  Rodney nodded regally. “Thank you.”

  Gareth shook hands with JJ. “Good to see you again.”

  “I’ll say.” That earned him a look from David.

  David smiled at Gareth. “So why was your tour so eventful? Did you encounter Wanda again?”

  “No. Edge.”

  “Shit. What was he doing here?”

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure. Looking for me, I expect.”

  David looked at Rodney and JJ, who were watching the conversation with great interest. “Edge is Gareth’s volleyball partner who he shocked by coming out to yesterday.”

  “Hell.” Rodney shook his head. “Was he unpleasant?”

  Gareth shrugged. “Kind of. He started out like he was trying to make up. Then he got real pushy about asking if I’d ever been attracted to anyone on the team.”

  JJ murmured, “Uh-oh.”

  “Yeh. He kept at it.”

  David wanted to cover his head and hide, but he asked anyway. “What did you tell him?”

  “I confessed I’d been attracted to him.”

  David’s heart hammered against his chest, trying to escape.

  Rod expressed it for all of them. “Oh shit.”

  It only took about a minute for Rod to find something he desperately needed to do at his studio and for JJ to tell David he’d take over the store so he could have a little break. He said the last with a meaningful glance at Gareth, who’d obviously not thought through his confession before he said it. Now he appeared to be absorbing the significance.

  A couple of minutes after that, the two of them left the store. Don’t look tense. Don’t sound tense. Gareth has a life that has nothing to do with you. He’s only here for a little while. You’re temporary. Edge is forever.

  Out on the street, the weekday crowds still jammed the sidewalk, though not as intensely as the weekend. Bright afternoon sun beat down and fried David’s brain.

  Gareth sounded nervous. “Where to?”

  Wow, he could barely talk. “Don’t care.”

  “How about the beach?”

  David nodded, and they walked the couple of blocks to the highway in silence, crossed, and stopped at the boardwalk. David pulled off his sneakers. He wasn’t wearing socks, so he started onto the sand. Gareth just left his flip-flops on and followed him. When they got a few yards down the sand, the gaggles of sunbathing moms with kids dissipated, and they found a quiet spot by the rocks that edged the beach. David plopped down. Gareth stood for a moment staring at the water, then sat beside him.

  “Sorry to have blurted that out. Both to him and to you.”

  David shrugged. No, that was the wrong response. He didn’t feel offhand at all. He looked up at Gareth. “I totally understand that you have a life that has nothing to do with me. You’ll go away and Edge will be there. It’s just, while I understood you liked him, I didn’t get the attraction. Not that I’d begrudge it if I didn’t want you for myself. Edge is gorgeous—at least on the outside.” He forced a smile.

  “Edge is how I knew I was gay. I kept getting boners looking at him.” He sighed. “But I’m not going away, and I don’t want to have a life that has nothing to do with you.”

  “What do you mean?” Heart leaping. Take a deep breath.

  “I’ve applied to school in Santa Barbara. It’s not next door, but it’s certainly driving distance, and a helluva lot closer than Sydney.” He turned and looked at David, his eyes deep and shiny. “I don’t want to be presumptuous, but if I stay, could I see you?” He frowned. “No, more than see you. Could I maybe be your boyfriend? I know it’s a lot to ask. I mean, I won’t be close by every night, but I’d come on weekends, and I only have one more year.” He grabbed David’s hands. “Please.”

  David forced the words out. “What about Edge?”

  “He’s part of the past. He made himself that way. I hope we can stay friends, but my future is with you.”

  David just stared. Brain and mouth not connected. He opened his jaw. “But—but you don’t know me.”

  “Yes, I do. You know I do. And you know me. You know where I’ve been and where I’m going. You see me like no one but my mom ever has. Maybe it won’t work, David, but I’d sure like to try. I mean, if it goes wrong, we both get a broken heart, but shit, isn’t that better than not knowing if this is the best thing ever? I know I’m rushing it, but I don’t have much time before I have to go back to Australia. Then I’ll come back in time for school in the fall. I can’t go, not knowing. I can’t.”

  Only one word thrummed through his veins like his own pulse. “Yes.”

  Gareth smiled so big it looked like his cheeks might crack. “Yes?”

  “Yes.” Insanity, thy name is David Underwood.

  DAVID SMILED at Gareth as they walked back to the gallery from lunch. “Isn’t your mom missing you? You’ve only been home once since the volleyball game.”

  “Actually, she wants me to bring you down on Saturday. Can you do it?”

  “Yes. I think so. I’ll talk to JJ.” They twined fingers. “How are you feeling? It’s been an intense week.”

  “Yeh. It was stressful being in the closet, but that was a different kind of stress, more internal. This is kind of raw, I guess.”

  “I’ve never been in the closet.” David laughed. “Who’d ever believe I was straight? But I know about raw.”

  Gareth did a quick one-armed hug so as to not make a spectacle. “I’ll bet you do, love.”

  At the gallery, David let JJ take a break. The store traffic had slowed since the fog had crept in during the afternoon rather than the morning. Sunburned tourists sought shelter from the chill, but not in his shop.

  David worked on his computer, inputting inventory while Gareth looked at all the art pieces, asking question after question. He seemed genuinely interested in what sold best and which seasons produced the most revenue. David loved Gareth’s enthusiasm. Umm, my boyfriend’s enthusiasm. The word made him glow with just a tiny edge of anxiety. Yeah, edge was the right word. Edge had him first—even though he didn’t know it. First loves were tough to shake.

  Gareth picked a book from a back shelf and flipped through it. “Wow. Japanese porn.”

  David glanced and laughed. “Actually, it’s Japanese shunga prints. It was a medieval art form. The Japanese don’t think of erotica like we do, so it’s not really pornographic.”

  “But these blokes are hung.”

  “Yes. It’s characteristic of the form. No one knows why the phalluses are so greatly exaggerated exactly.”

  “Bloody hell, these are hot. Wish they had some of two guys together.”

  “They do, actually. It’s hard to tell in some cases because the men are often adolescent boys who dress more like women. In Japan, people were seldom considered homosexual. Only acts were described as such.”

  “Yeh. I found one. Oh shit, this is so great.” David felt a strong arm wrap around his waist. Gareth pulled David back against a rock-hard cock covered by denim. He leaned hard against David and stuck the book in front of David’s face. “Look at that, love.”

  Oh yeah, David hardly had to be reminded. He’d used that book to jerk off a few times in the bathroom, being very careful not to get cum on the pages. “Yeah, I know. I love that book.”

  “Oh, have you been a very bad boy with this book?”

  “Yes.”

  Gareth breathed hot in his ear. “And where would that have been?”

  “In the back bathroom.”

  “Oh, you naughty, naughty boy. I think I may spank you tonight for being so very bad.”

  David moaned, while trying to keep his eyes on the front door and the few people passing by.

  “Actually, I don’t think I can wait ’til tonight.” Gareth set the book on the counter in front of David. “Just keep looking at this, love.”

  The etching showed two young men, opulently dressed in kimonos, ministering to an older man’s enormous
phallus with their tongues. Crap, it was so sexy. Gareth licked the shell of David’s ear. “I want you to know that I have been tested regularly and have a clean bill of health.”

  David was gasping now as the thick ridge of cock pushed between his asscheeks, still covered in skin-tight stretch denim. “Me too. I’m clean.”

  “Oh good, love, because I want to swallow.”

  Before David could think, much less protest, Gareth was on his knees in front of him, back to the counter, and pulling down David’s zipper. David kept staring toward the door with what he knew was a stupid grin on his face as those rough fingers pulled his stiff cock out.

  Then warm, wet heat surrounded him. “Oh shit, Gareth.” He forced himself to whisper when he wanted to shout.

  He stared at the beautiful etching, then turned the page and saw the huge phallus of one man penetrating the asshole of another, younger man. Oh God, oh God.

  “Hi, David.”

  He looked up at the open front door of the shop to see Mercy, one of his friends from the Laguna Art Museum, waving as she walked by. Oh Mercy, don’t come in. He waved, hoping she couldn’t see his hand shaking.

  She stuck her head in the door as Gareth’s mouth moved into serious vacuum mode while his big hand stroked David’s balls. She smiled. “How’s business, kiddo?”

  “Uh, swell, uh, fine.” He pointed to the computer a little frantically. “Just doing some inventory.”

  She laughed. “Far be it from me to keep a man from his boredom. See ya soon.”

  “Bye.” He’d squeaked, but she didn’t seem to notice. Oh shit. He held on to both sides of the counter like the railing on a pitching ship and began pumping his hips, forcing his throbbing cock into that divine throat. Again and again, Gareth deep-throated him until David didn’t care if the president came in to shop. He was not going to stop for anyone.

  He looked down at the shunga painting. In a few hours, Gareth would have that big cock of his in David’s ass. That one thought did it. Explosion. Heat. “Oh crap, Gareth, baby. Oh….” And he looked down to see Gareth’s mouth and throat working as he swallowed every drop. That sight was going into the beautiful memories Hall of Fame like this morning’s cowboy ride. In fact, soon all his ideas of beauty might revolve around one big Aussie.