by David Connor
Tom Alan was listening as if he was hearing it all for the very first time. The kids seemed riveted, too.
“If this message touches you someplace because you know I am speaking to you, I want you to be okay. It is okay—what you’re feeling. You are okay. You are not an abomination or someone children need protection from. You are men and women, like me, who should be able to live as freely as I do, with just the occasional slur, or the tsk-tsk, or snicker. I am gay. I just skated at The Olympic Games as a guest in your country. Other gay people will excel at their sport as well. Some will tell you they are gay, and some will not. They got here through hard work. And they’ll go home and lead productive lives, experience happiness, sadness, good times and rough times, just like everyone else. Every human being deserves a chance. You should be able to walk the streets of the place you live without fear of getting your head bashed in. It’s not okay what’s happening here, but you are. You’re okay the way you are.”
“There was fallout,” Tom Alan said as the video ended. “The speech was blacked out in certain countries and Milo’s social media accounts had as many negative comments as positive ones on the first day. By the second, the tide turned, but many still felt choosing to speak at The Games was inappropriate.”
“I don’t,” Jesse said.
“Our ‘Sounds of Silence’ routine…all about words…it was his idea,” Tom Alan said, full of love, “not just because of this, but also for what’s been going on right here…shootings and hate of all kinds.”
“We’re saying something every time we skate,” Erika added. “We hope we are, about how words hurt or how they help, how silence is often detrimental, too. Sometimes people need to know someone cares. Milo did a lot of the choreography.”
“That’s really cool.” Jesse looked at Milo with stars in her eyes.
“Oh…I’m nothing special,” he said.
Kensuke agreed. He was ready to move on. “You should do an Ani and Otouto video, Tom Alan.” Naturally, he was obsessed with the anime duo Tom Alan had created and published. The comic had a small but rabid following in the U.S. and was a bestseller in Japan. “It’d get, like, a million more hits than that. I know this underground metal band. Their stuff would be perfect in the background. Forbidden Fruit. They’re sick!”
Forbidden Fruit was certainly an apt mention given the blatant flirting. Erika wondered if they were the purveyors of that rousing tune about gold blood and steel sex organs Kensuke had sung at the restaurant.
“Jess and I are going to see them this winter.”
“If my grandma lets me,” Jesse said.
“We’ll get around her.” Kensuke waved his hand. “I can pretty much wrap anyone around this finger.” He held up the middle one, then closed his other hand around it, stroking it a few times. Tom Alan’s smirked as he chewed his turkey on rye. His sometimes-crippling reserve had easily been overtaken by sophomoric male bonding.
“What do you do nowadays, One Direction? Make things back home with these guys threesies ‘stead of twosies?”
Milo glared at the kid. “I’m a shrink. I get into people’s heads and discover things, like how being a smart-ass is basically a cover for profound insecurities.”
“Tight.” The sarcasm had gone right over Kensuke’s, as he snatched a hunk of Tom Alan’s sandwich.
* * * *
The teens took off once lunch was over, and Tom Alan and Erika got back to work. They were partway around the rink, in hold, when she just had to give it to him, despite how much she loved being close to him. “You big, clueless jerk.”
“Ow, Kiki!” Tom Alan rubbed his chest where Erika had smacked him as he tried to create beautiful lines. “What’d I do?” He caught himself against the rail, where Milo stood changing Etsuko’s nappy.
“You know bloody well what you did.” Certain Tom Alan and Erika would train just as hard without him about, Milo was preparing to take her home for a nap. The setup ran like a well-oiled machine, the family and Billy scheduling school, practice, and Etsuko’s pick-ups and drop offs to the second, depending on who was going to be home and free. “Doesn’t he, Little Red?”
“I really don’t.”
“In a word, love, Kensuke.”
“What about him?”
“He wants to cheat on his girlfriend,” Erika said.
“He’s got a girlfriend?”
“Jesse.” She almost hit him again. “Billy and I are pretty sure she thinks of herself that way, even if he doesn’t.”
“Kens-what’s-it’s a fancy for sure, Skater Boy.”
“I would probably agree.”
“One who fancies you, even without you leading him on.” Milo and Erika were becoming fast allies.
“How was I leading him on?”
“By laughing at his sexual innuendo,” she said, helping to pack the diaper bag. “It’s as if you all regress to twelve-year-olds when congregating as a herd.”
Tom Alan hesitated, then conceded, “Maybe.”
“Boundaries,” she told him, dragging out the word. “Be a role model.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for that.” As if to prove it, he belched, an after effect of his Diet Coke.
“Did he have an e-r-e-c-t-i-o-n when you threw him?”
“Milo!”
“My willie was stiff when you chucked me the first time.”
“That was different,” Tom Alan said. “That was love at first sight.” He went in for a kiss Milo shunned.
“Maybe for him, too.”
“You’re really jealous?”
“More perturbed. The kid’s dodgy.”
“That’s not my fault. Neither is his stiff…ness. Not that I looked.”
“He couldn’t take his eyes off yours,” Erika said.
“Can’t blame him there, Flower. It’s a beaut.” Milo offered a kiss, on his terms, as he spoke against Tom Alan’s lips. “But it’s mine, I tell ya. All mine.”
They kissed three times—smack, smack, smack. “Of course it is.”
“And remember,” Erika did the same to Etsuko, “this was supposed to be about Jesse.”
“Well, we did what we said we’d do,” Tom Alan stated. “We met with them and I’ll call Phil and Thyme and set things up for some hockey practice or whatever. Other than that, if you’re right—”
“Oh, we’re right,” Milo declared.
“Then we’ll just back off. Kensuke’s love life is really none of our business. Heck, we’ll probably never even hear from him again, anyway.”
Tom Alan’s phone rang. “Oh. It’s him.”
“‘Never’ don’t last as long as it used to, I guess. What’s the tosser want?”
“‘Dude, I’ll go to Rio with you,’” Erika read over Tom Alan’s shoulder. “‘Just you and me. Leave the chicks and your BF at home.’” Her hand stung after smacking Tom Alan’s hard pec again.
“Ow!”
“Jerk.”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“I ask but one favor,” Milo said dramatically.
“What?” The tone made Tom Alan glower.
“If our love is fated for tragedy, if you’re going to leave me for a high schooler…please do it while I’m young enough to rebound.”
Chapter 3
Tom Alan was careful, Erika had to hand it to him. He made certain he was never alone with Kensuke, who dropped by practice five days in a row, at Irina Mischen’s rink and their own in Somers, even though that one was quite a hike from where he lived. Only twice did he bring Jesse with him.
Kensuke loved the ice, and Tom Alan was far too compassionate to turn him away. “I’m half-tempted to steer him toward competing at the adult level,” he said one day, “but I’m not convinced he would take it seriously, and I don’t feel like putting our reputation on the line just to end up embarrassed by some of his shenanigans.”
“Shenanigans.” Erika had to laugh. “Next thing I know you’ll be using words like ‘folly’ and ‘falderal.’”
&nb
sp; “Hey. You’re the one who told me to act my age.”
“Your age, not Dick Button’s.”
On day six, the hockey players came up. Though Kensuke had been more respectful, almost angelic, Tom Alan laid down the law. “No inappropriate comments, okay? No nicknames or…innuendo. These guys are doing us a favor. But have fun.”
Jesse outmaneuvered Kensuke at nearly every turn. She was good—definitely worthy of the title “star player.” She was in her glory, while Kensuke still stared at Tom Alan as if he were the second coming. He’d even joked about still flying down to Rio with them, even after claiming he’d been “yanking everyone’s chain” all along. Milo had his doubts. Erika, too. After the first night of gymnastics, she was all but certain one guy was Kensuke, until he turned out to be Kohei Uchimura, the Japanese team gold medalist.
Four days in Brazil turned into eight. Tom Alan and Erika worked quite a bit more than expected when a couple of other athletes backed out, resulting in plenty of snits. “All you want to do is hang out in a stuffy hotel room, Milo, when we have all this?”
Milo was always ready to call it an early day whenever they hit the beach, even when hours of daylight remained. “I’m British. My body’s not used to sun and warmth.”
Billy joined them for a long weekend, so he wouldn’t have to miss spending time with Etsuko. While Tom Alan’s nose was stuck in his phone texting NBC or someone in Japan regarding yet another project, Billy and Milo were running through the sand, chasing each other, all sexy and shirtless. Milo didn’t mind the sun with a playmate. “Catch me, Hockey puck!” At full speed, he suddenly changed directions, throwing himself into Billy’s arms. They fell.
“That’s Dr. Hockey Puck to you,” Billy said on the bottom, just a moment before he took charge. He rolled them to the water’s edge in the sands of Ipanema, where the waves crashed over their half-naked bodies, like that scene in From Here to Eternity. Anyone who didn’t know better would have sworn the redhead and the Brit were together. Knowing what she now knew, Erika grew concerned, and also slightly jealous.
They returned to the States the same day Kyoko came home from Japan. There were three weeks left before Milo headed off to FBI training and eight before Tom Alan and Erika would kick off The Grand Prix of Figure Skating at the end of October. They’d test their new programs before then, at two smaller ISU-sanctioned meets upstate in September, required outings to reestablish their status, and also skate for an international judging panel. Kyoko expected a podium finish.
“Go to bed,” she said, stopping to pet the cats, Flip and Twizzle. “Irina is concerned with the unevenness in your performance and the reliability of your tricks. The trip down south was possibly ill advised.” She turned to Milo. “And you.” She fixed him in her stare. “Don’t keep Tom Alan up all night.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kyoko sent them off with a gentle touch on the cheek. “I’m glad you are staying here. We’ll catch up over breakfast.” A cellphone buzzed as the pair headed for the stairs. “Kensuke.” A loud exhale showed Tom Alan’s frustration.
“The moment we get back.” Milo shook his head. “It’s like he knows.”
“Ignore.” Tom Alan tapped the button.
Kensuke’s texts had come daily at first, but then they’d tapered off. “Kids that age move on quickly,” Tom Alan had said.
Erika thought about that as she got Etsuko settled into bed, and then prepared to crawl into her own across the hall. The kitties had followed her in. Naturally, they hopped right back up when she set them on the floor. “Did you miss us?” Instead of opening her book, as she petted them in turn, she thought some more about Kensuke making a play for Tom Alan. Milo’s jealousy was unfounded for sure. The entire time they’d been separated, for long periods over their first autumn, winter, spring, and part of summer, neither of them had ever mentioned being tempted by anyone else. Tom Alan would have. He and Erika shared nearly every thought with one another. He had zero concerns about Milo wandering either. He’d sown his wild oats. Erika’s passing concern was likely more about sexual and romantic frustrations than anything else. It was Jesse she was really worried about—still. If Erika was in her shoes, and saw the man she loved enamored with someone else…
The smacking of lips in the other room started.
“Here we go again,” she said to Flip—or was it Twizzle?
“Milo…Kyoko said we can’t.” Tom Alan’s tone was light and playful as always.
“She’ll never know,” Milo told him.
Erika shook her head as she glanced toward the heat vent. “She might, if all the downstairs vents carry your sex sounds.” She wondered how often they’d done it in Brazil. “Now I know why you two don’t sleep in their room. No chance of being disturbed in here by…” Twizzle offered squinty eyes. “I’m not leaving this time either.” Erika got up, though, and moved toward the grillwork in the wall.
“I love being home,” Milo said.
“Technically, you’re not,” Erika huffed.
“I know it might be silly, but I traveled the world most of my life. This…this is what I want.”
“This?” Tom Alan asked.
“Mmm. Yes. That…” More kissing noises followed, and then Tom Alan moaned. There was the thud of a pair of shoes and even the unmistakable sound of a zipper going down. “And those.”
The heating ducts carried the sound better than drive-in movie speakers. There was a little knob, and Erika reached for it. She could live one night without AC, but simply closing the vent didn’t really block out the sound.
“Mmm. Get me hard.”
“I usually don’t have to.”
“Jetlag,” Tom Alan claimed. “Sorry.”
Erika could actually hear the sound of Milo’s mouth moving up and down Tom Alan’s big dick, all fat and floppy when soft, long and straight when up.
“Mmm. It’s fine, love. Getting you there is half the fun.”
As she conjured several memories of Tom Alan, and then Billy, her cellphone buzzed.
“Think of the devil and his dick,” Erika said, fixing a straight chair against the wall with a pillow up on end and a folded-up quilt for added soundproofing. “There…I should have thought of that before. And I really have to stop talking to cats…no offense.”
She checked her phone screen to read Billy’s text.
Billy: What are you up to?
Erika: Listening to Tom Alan and your bestie have sex.
She sat on the chair in front of the vent.
Billy: Lol. Just like our first time. I miss you already.
He missed her? They had just spent ninety-six hours together—or at least in the same location.
Billy: I wanted you so bad in Rio.
Erika: It seemed like you wanted Milo more.
Was that harsh?
Billy: Well, you were always with Tom.
Erika: You’re full of sh
She deleted that and decided to be nice—and also nosy.
Erika: Did you tell him you’re bi?
Billy sent a blushing emoticon.
Erika: No? Yes?
Billy: I got close, but chickened out. I don’t even know why.
Billy: It’s not like it would change anything.
Erika: What do you want it to change?
This time, Billy sent the pissed off emoji.
Billy: I’m not tring to get with Milo.
Billy: *trying. I’m trying to get with you!
Erika: Ok. Ok! Were you humming?
Billy: :) I guess I was.
Erika: What song?
Billy: Celine. Don’t you dare laugh!
Too late.
Billy: My mother plays her way too much.
Mmm. Holy dang, Milo, Tom Alan blurted out in the other room.
I want to fuck you bad, Skater Boy, Erika heard Milo answer.
The sound proofing hadn’t worked—or maybe they were extra loud.
Erika: Milo wants to fuck Tom Alan bad.
Bil
ly: Lol. What if I said I want to fuck you good? :)
Billy: Then hum Titanic in your ear all night?
Erika stared at the screen. What if? It had been several weeks—more than that.
“I love your ass,” Milo loudly proclaimed in the other room.
Erika shook her head. Milo must have been up close and personal with Tom Alan’s ass at least a thousand times by now, and the fact that he was still so sentimental about it was downright…sweet, actually.
Erika: Hold up.
She stood.
Billy: Rika??????
Erika: Still here.
Billy: You didn’t answer.
She typed as she headed out of her room toward the bathroom. Maybe a shower would give the guys time to finish.
Erika: I don’t know what to say. Is this a booty call?
Billy: It could be.
Erika: I thought we decided no more of those.
Billy: When did we decide that?
Erika: Right after the last one.
Billy: Do we ever really mean that?
Erika: Plus, Coach Tsuchino put us on non-conjugal lockdown.
Billy: If that means what I think it does, Tom & Booger aren’t listening, why should you?
Erika decided to use the shower in the half bath connected to the guest bedroom upstairs so as not to disturb grandma or baby.
Billy: Erika?
Erika: You’re awfully impatient.
Billy: I’m also rock hard. Wanna see?
Did she?
Erika: Yes.