Sean took in the boy at his side. How the hell did this happen? And he pondered his question and realized that—more than anything—he did not want him to go. He didn’t know where this would lead, but suddenly his evening was beginning not to seem quite so aimless. Suddenly, in a life that had seemed full of closed doors, a window opened. He couldn’t imagine what the boy—Arliss—could possibly offer him, other than the obvious, but what else did he have going on tonight, or in the future, for that matter?

What could be the harm in talking to him?

“Nah. I think I’d kind of like it if you’d stay.”

Arliss beamed.

Sean continued, “So what brings you down here tonight, when, as you say, the action is further west? A young kid like you…I would think you’d want to blow off some steam in the bars.”

“Young kid? Dude, how old are you, anyway?”

“38 in October. That probably seems ancient to you. What are you, anyway, 17?”

Arliss shook his head. “They would never have hired me to dance at Tricks if I was 17.” It looked like the kid was thinking and Sean wondered if he was going to lie about his age, but then thought what would be the purpose in that. “I’m 21. I’ll be 22 in the fall, November.”

Sean nodded. “So are you gonna tell me? This doesn’t exactly seem like a hot spot for a good-looking, very hot 21-year-old on a Friday night.”

Arliss cocked his head. “I believe I asked you the same question—first.”

Sean laughed. “Point taken.” He stared out at the water, wondering how much he should share with this stranger. He realized it might be easier to talk about what was troubling him with someone who didn’t know him, rather than someone with whom he was well-acquainted and, most likely knew, Jerome. Strangers often made good listeners, he had found. They weren’t clouded by preconceived notions. And besides, almost all of his friends were also friends of Jerome’s and Sean was still uncertain who was on what side.

“Man trouble?” Arliss prodded.

“You are perceptive.”

“For a stripper?”

Sean shook his head. “I never said that.”

“So? Was I right?”

Sean sighed. “You were right. I broke up with my boyfriend this week. We had been together for three years. Never lived together, but I thought that possibility was just around the corner.” Sean felt a ball forming uncomfortably in his throat and forced it away. “I thought the possibility of forever was a very real thing…and living together was just going to be part of the plan, you know?”

Arliss shook his head. “Not really. My involvement with men so far has been pretty much of the sexual variety.” He sang a few lines from Tina Turner’s “What’s Love Got to Do with It?” and that made Sean laugh. This kid was brighter and more perceptive than he ever would have given him credit for.

Sean shrugged and continued. “Anyway, when I suggested we move in together when my lease was up, he freaked. Ran in the opposite direction as fast as he could.”

“Sorry, man. That’s cold. But if what you wanted was a real commitment, I’d say you’re better off without him.”

“In my head, I know you’re right.”

“But in your heart?”

Sean hiccupped out a sob, then stiffened, drawing in a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. “My heart hasn’t quite grasped the notion that I’m better off just yet.”

Arliss reached behind and gave Sean’s shoulder a squeeze. The touch sent a frisson of heat through him, and not of the carnal variety, but of the nurturing kind. The simple touch made him feel wanted and cared about, if only for the instant Arliss’ hand rested on his shoulder. “Thanks,” Sean whispered. He turned to Arliss and forced himself to smile. “Your turn.”

“Ah, there isn’t much to tell. The bar’s a drain. Performing can be a drain. Not so much the physical part of it, but dealing with all those people, making nice, pretending I like their oh-so-clever come-ons and not-so-subtle gropes and pinches. It’s like being out there, performing, working the crowd, takes something out of me, which is funny because I think for most of the guys I work with, just the opposite is true.”

“You’re a classic introvert.”

“Who me? You think someone who strips down to almost naked in front of crowds of strange men several nights a week is an introvert? Dude, you’re kidding.” Arliss rolled his eyes and snickered.

“No, seriously. An introvert can be someone who does public things, like what you do. I bet lots of actors are introverts, public figures, people like that. I read somewhere that being an introvert isn’t so much about being shy, although they can be, but about how you recharge your batteries, you know?”

“Go on.”

“Well, an introvert needs time by himself to kind of get his energy together. When he doesn’t get that, it can drain him. And when he’s forced to put on a public face and perform as an extrovert would, it drains all the energy out of him. Make sense?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I suspect I just answered my question—supposing I’m right about you—that you came down here to recharge.”

Arliss nodded. “Yeah. I see what you’re saying. I do need, almost desperately, to get away after a show. I come down here lots after the show, when all the other guys are headed out to the bathhouses and the bars.”

“That’s ‘cause they’re extroverts. They’re all charged up. You need something different.”

“I never thought of it that way, but it makes perfect sense.” Arliss gazed out over the water. “Introvert, huh?” He looked into Sean’s eyes. “But tell me something, Mr. Psychoanalyst—and I put the accent on psycho—would an introvert do this?” And he leaned in toward Sean, taking him totally by surprise with a full-blown kiss. His mouth covered Sean’s and an insistent tongue was worming its way into his mouth before he had even had a chance to react.

Sean surrendered to the kiss, mashing his face up against Arliss’ and sucking on his tongue. Almost of its volition, his hand rose up to the back of Arliss’ neck to pull him closer, as if that were even possible. He realized somewhere in the foggy midst of the kiss, that he needed this so bad, was hungry for it, and the delivery of it, so unexpected, kind, and hot, was a gift. It almost made him want to cry—not for the same reasons he had cried earlier, but from sheer bliss. The kiss made Sean feel alive again, wanted, an affirmation that he was worthy.

They went on that way for what seemed like several minutes but was probably closer to only several seconds. And then Sean’s rational, conservative mind intruded, telling him that people could see them. Even though the hour was late and the lakefront sparsely populated, there were still people around. Some of them walking or running the trail, others sitting as he and Arliss were, watching the moon stretch and contract on the black water. Some of those people, Sean feared, might not find the sight of two men passionately kissing adorable or erotic or even sweet. Some of those people might find it disgusting and might ponder violent ways to put their kiss to an end.

Reluctantly, Sean pulled away, smiling and breathless. “Wow. That was nice. I wasn’t expecting that.”

Arliss grinned. “I just follow my instincts. They’re usually right.” He reached down and rubbed his calves. “It’s getting chilly out here.”

“Are you kidding me? It feels like it’s about ninety, with the humidity even higher.”

Arliss shook his head. “So you’re not even going to give me the chance to set up my proposition properly?”

Sean laughed.

“I was going to say—Mr. Realist—that it’s chilly out here and maybe we should get ourselves away to somewhere indoors. You know, where we could be alone together.”

“You got such a place?”

“Yeah…if you don’t mind other people coming in and out all night. If you don’t mind hip hop music or the sound of someone playing with the Wii.” Arliss looked out at the water. “I was kind of hoping you would.”

“And what would we do there?”

“Fuck our brains out, of course.” Arliss gave Sean a huge smile and that, combined with the coarse words caused his dick to rise in anticipation. But Sean wasn’t so sure his bigger head was ready for the night the kid proposed. He had always been a one-man kind of guy and he’d barely begun to get Jerome out of his system. Barely begun? Dude, you’re still heart-broken! Although his dick begged to differ, he just didn’t know if tricking with this hot young guy would actually lead to anything meaningful. As hard as it was sometimes to accept, Sean was all about meaningful.

Arliss leaned his face in close, and the sight of it, the full lips and the blue eyes, almost took Sean’s breath away. He could feel Arliss’ firm grip on his thigh and wondered if Arliss wanted to inch that grip up higher as much as Sean wanted him to. But he couldn’t do this. It just didn’t feel right.

Sean pulled back, creating a little distance between the two of them. “Man, don’t get me wrong. I am tempted, but I’m not like that, you know? One-night stands haven’t ever been my thing, even when I was single.” He paused. “Guess I am single. But I’d rather wait a bit, get to know you a little. Lord knows I want to hop in the sack with you; I wouldn’t even think a hottie like you would even be attracted to me. And I’ll probably kick myself tomorrow for turning you down.”

“Then just loosen up a bit, guy, go with the flow.”

Sean shook his head. “I can’t. Even if I said we were just going back to my house for a drink and to watch some TV, I know what would happen. You know what would happen. And I don’t want it to be that way.” A rush of heat went though Sean and he realized something he wanted to say was impossible. Am I falling for this kid? Already? That just can’t be. Can it? I need time to mourn.

“Suit yourself.” Arliss sucked in a deep breath.

“Can I see you again? Would you let me take you to dinner some night?”

[Stanley Ridge reviewed Tricks in the last issue of Wilde Oats, and you can read our interview with him here]

 

 Rick R Reed is a gay-shaded horror, thriller and romance author.

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