Chapter 3: First Date

It was turning out to be a warm and windy night, perfect for walking about the city. Peter took his arm off Levi's shoulders as they turned ther corner at the end of the block away from Marcus's sight. The street's weren't too crowded yet. Most people were still at home having dinner. The streetlamps lit up as the sun was setting.

"So sorry about that Levi," Peter broke the silence. "We can go our own way's now. I'm really sorry for using you as an escape plan." He laughed.

"It's allright. I'm glad to have helped. Peter, was it? Who was that?" Levi asked innocently.

"Wow! You really aren't from around here. That was Marcus, man-whore extraordinaire. He's danced basically at all the clubs around here. He's been dancing at that bar we just met in for months now. Guys go crazy for him. He makes about as many tips as me."

"You guys are both dancer?" Levi looked quizically. The idea of male dancers and tips were foreign to him. In all honesty, Levi was an uptown boy, born and raised. He'd never been downtown. The kind of places he'd been to in his life didn't have any dancers, male or female, at all.

"No, I'm not a dancer. Thank you for thinking so. The only six-pack I have is a six pack of beer at home in the fridge. I used to bartend at that bar." Peter was happy Levi was making conversation as they continued walking. After what had happened that day it was nice to talk to someone outside the gay community circle.

Levi stopped walking. "Is your offer still standing, or was it just a ruse to get away from Marcus?"

Peter stopped in his tracks at the question a couple of feet in front of Levi. As far as he had thought of this, which wasn't very much, he just wanted to get away from Marcus, not go on a date with this stranger, as attractive as he was. "You actually want to go out with me?" He turned around. "Even after that thing with Marcus?" He was shocked. Had he been in Levi's shoes, he would have punched him when he put his arm on his shoulders. "You don't think I'm some kind of freak?" The day had made him feel undesirable, even Georgie-boy had turned against him.

"Yes, I would. I don't really have anything to do or anywhere to go. I don't even know this part of town. I've been wandering around aimlessly for a few hours. I do find you quite interesting. I've never met anyone like you." Levi mused and smiled. It was a brilliant smile, like a child's.

Peter was taken aback by this. It was shaping up to be an interesting night. Levi walked up to Peter. They faced each other in silence. They looked into each others eyes, stading just inches from each other. Neither spoke a word. People passed them by without them noticing. The world suddenly stopped. Peter felt awkward and wanted to kiss Levi at that moment. A cab passed by honking its horn breaking the moment.

"So where are you going to take me? Or would you prefer to stand here? I'd understand if you didn't actually want to go somewhere with me, "Levi said killing the awkward moment between them.

"I'm sorry. I kind of lost my train of thought. Had a long day."

"Well, I'm getting hungry."

"You know, I know exactly where to take you then. It's the perfect little hole in the wall. Lovely place. Not too many people, good food, great coffee, cute servers. We can talk there, " Peter replied as he took a step back and tripped on a bottle. He stumbled backwards and fell on the sidewalk. As Levi giggled and gave him a hand to stand him up again, Peter could feel his stomach twisting in knots. Who was this stranger making him feel like a teenager. They continued to walk the streets as they slowly filled with the night crowd.

"Where are you from?" asked Levi. "You don't look like you're from here."

"What do you mean? Nobody looks like they are from here. I'm just like everyone else in this city. True, I wasn't born here, but I've been here long enough to call it home."

"Then where were you born?"

"I was born in Puerto Rico. After college, I started to travel. I started bartending while in college and never stopped. I can make a decent living as a bartender anywhere. Went through Europe first. Never really felt at home there, I did love it though. I love going there any chacne I get. Then I came over stateside. Made my way across from the west coast and ended up here about four years ago. It's the longest I've stayed anywhere."

"That is very interesting. You've been somewhat of a nomad all your adult life. How come you never stayed anywhere for long?"

"Have you ever felt an itch? One that you can't scratch? I did. Whenever I felt it, I'd pack up and move. When things start to feel mundane I feel like I'm drowning. I'd usually stay somewhere at the most for four months.Here I feel comfortable. Haven't gotten bored yet. There's something about this city. It's always changing yet always stays the same. I met Georgie-boy too, the owner of that bar. He's been somewhat of a father figure to me."

"Did your father die?" Levi asked sheepishly, afraid to broach a sensitive subject.

"No! Not at all. My father is alive and well in Puerto Rico. Haven't buried a family member since my granfather passed a few years ago. My grandmother has pulled through amazingly. So this is the place. Best coffee on the block. You look like you've never had a real cup of coffee. Starbucks is not the end all of coffee."

They arrived at a little cafe, Bonbon. It was just as Peter described it, a little hole in the wall. You'd completely miss it if you weren't looking for it. Peter walked through the door first and was greeted with a smile by a young man.

"Hello Peter! What a surprise to see you tonight. Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"I should just be serving the first drinks of the night, but Georgie-boy fired me. I'll be fine. Tonight instead, I've got a date. This is Levi."

Levi smiled nervously at Peter's introduction.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Levi. Haven't seen you around before. Are you new in town?"

Levi decided to just go along with it and nodded yes. He'd been able to talk opendly with Peter, but now he felt mute. He sat down at a small table in the corner.

"We'll have two capuccino's for now Jimmy," Peter said to the server and sat across from Levi. "Hope I didn't scare you with the date comment."

"It's allright. Just wasn't expecting to hear it at all."

"I was only kidding. I like to joke around with him. Tell me about yourself. All we've talked about is me. Apart from your name all I know is that you're from uptown. What are you doing slumming it down here alone, wandering around like a lost little dog?"

Levi was suddenly very quiet. His nerves were taking over. He didn't know what to say. He had never been in this kind of situation. He said the first thing that popped into his head, "I'm not gay!"

"Oh!" Peter was surprised by this outburst. Although he could sense Levi's nervousness. "It's ok. I'm sorry if the date thing made you uncomfortable. It wasn't my intention. I don't see this as a date. It's just to guys talking and getting coffee."

"No. I'm sorry about that! I didn't mean to sound judgemental. I don't even know if you are gay. I've never been in a situation like this; you know, out with another guy. And not just that. This is all very new for me. I've always lived my life in a planned and organized manner. My parents always steered me in a certain direction. Which is why I've never been downtown."

"My parents are like that. I stopped following their plans a long time ago. Ever since I became a theater major in college. My mom was just happy I was in college. Don't start thinking I stopped talking with my parents though. Our relationship is in perfect shape. There was a rocky time when I decided to be a bartender and travel the world, but we've made peace with it. Let's keep talking about you."

Peter had calmed Levi down with his words. Jimmy brought over their coffees.

"Thanks Jimmy, I think I'll just have a ham and cheese on whole wheat. How about you, Levi?

"I'll have the same. I suddenly don't feel as hungry as I thought."

"We'll split it Jimmy since your sandwiches are pretty big." As Jimmy walked away witht he order, Peter looked back at Levi. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm actually a concert pianist. I was somewhat of a prodigy as a child. When I played the piano was when my parents payed the most attention to me. I was raised, like most children in my neighborhood, by a nanny. Whenever I played the piano, my parents always made a huge deal about it. I love it. There's nothing quite like being on stage and playing a beautiful piece by Mozart. Then as you are done having everyone applaud you."

"My musical talents aren't very far reaching, unless you want to count playing Guitar Hero, Tell me more." Peter was happy to hear Levi chat about himself. It was the perfect distraction from his own troubles with Marcus. Their sandwich arrived and Peter split it in half. He continued listening to Levi speak.

Levi had graduated at the top of his class from one of those Ivy League universities Peter could only dream of ever attending. Levi's eyes shone as he spoke. It was like tonight he was able to liberate everything from within himself. Talking with Peter had a soothing effect on him. "I actually had a concert tonight."

Peter almost choked on his sandwich. "What! Why are you here then? I thought you said you had nothing to do tonight."

"Something came over me this afternoon. I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe. I was in my apartment warming up for tonight. My phone rang, and it was my fiance."

This time, Peter did choke. Jimmy ran over and gave Peter the Heimlich Maneuver. "Are you allright, Peter?" asked Jimmy as the bite of sandwich flew out from his mouth. "Was it the sandwich? Did I make it badly?" Jimmy was shaken. No one had ever choked in his restaurant.

"I'm ok, Jimmy. Thank you. It wasn't the food. Forgot to chew for a second." Peter wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back down.

Levi had been more scared than Jimmy. He hadn't moved or talked. He knew what caused Peter to choke was the announcement that he was engaged. He began to recall how he became engaged to Christina Jones.

Untitled, Chapter 2: At Georgie-boy's

Night came quickly that day for Peter. After the fight with Marcus, all he could manage was going back to bed. What truly bothered him wasn't the words Marcus had said but that he was hurt by them. One could usually ignore Marcus as the vapid ramblings of a narcissistic bitch, except maybe today he had been right.

The hard part was next. Peter worked at one of the area's most popular gay bars, Georgie-boy's. He may not be the hottest bartender there, but he does serve the best drinks. He has a knack for always being able to guess what a customer wants. While Peter bartends and numbs out people's minds, Marcus then drains their brains of blood and filling their dicks by dancing semi-naked, at least, most of the time. Peter had no clue what repercurssions there would be after the fight. He just knew that word would have already gotten around. Luckily, his boss and bar owner, Georgie-boy, didn't pay much heed to the rumor mill, which he started back in the day.

Georgie-boy's Bar had been around for a couple of decades now. It wasn't the hippest bar in town, but it was the best. The only time you'd find it empty was when it was closed. Peter had been bartending there a little over a year now, the longest he'd ever worked anywhere. He loved it. Georgie-boy had taken him under his wing like a father. They'd close the bar together every morning and have a beer. Georgie-boy was someone you could always count on.

Peter arrived early as usual. He loved coming into the bar and set up. There's something special about setting up a bar. Turning on the lights, wiping the counter tops, and setting the stools in place. Georgie-boy always, without fault, woould play Eartha Kitt before opening. He lived alone above the bar. There were rumors as to how he'd gotten such a prime piece of real estate. Some say he slept with the loan officer to get the loan and later with the bank manager to pay it off. Others say he killed the previous owners, an elderly couple who had it filled with cats, which is why the back alley stinks of cat piss, even though there are no cats to be seen. Georgie-boy had told Peter how he got the building. The truth was that the bar had originally had been a paint store, owned by a single gentleman, a confirmed bachelor. The man, who Georgie-boy only refferred to as Mr. J, had gotten the building when his parents had died. Mr. J and Georgie-boy had met when Georgie-boy was in his late teens. Even with the age difference, they fell in love. Mr. J actually gave Georgie-boy his nickname. When Mr. J died in the 80's from old age, he left everything to Georgie-boy. There wasn't any legal problem due to the fact that Mr. J didn't have any relatives. Georgie-boy then turned the paint store into a bar seeing that it would be more profitable with the ever growing gay community.

When Peter arrived at the bar he saw ity was still closed and no Eartha Kitt playing inside. He quickly dialed Georgie-boy on his cell, worried something had happened. He hoped everything was alright. The phone rang and rang. No answer. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter sees the door to the apartments above the bar open. Expecting to see Georgie-boy he smiled and faced the door. Instead, he'd found himself face to face with Marcus, who beared a grin and sported a black eye. Marcus was sweaty and a bit out of breath. Peter suddenly remembered that Marcus lived in one of Georgie-boy's apartments.

"We've been waiting for you Petey," Marcus purred. He pulled in closer and whispered into Peter's ear, "Georgie-boy is waiting upstairs in his apartment. He's expecting you. He wants to talk. Sorry he didn't answer his phone, he was a bit occupied."

Peter's heart plunged into his stomach then and there. What could Marcus have done? Marcus was the vengeful type. "Ok, let me up then." He walked through the door. Marcus followed behind.

"Your ass looks great in those pants," Marcus taunted.

Up the seven flights of stairs they went. Georgie-boy lived on the top floor. Peter stayed quiet whenMarcus didn't stop on the third floor where is apartment was. When they reached the door to Georgie-boy's, Marcus went by Peter as he moved to knock.

"The door's open, Petey. Come on in." Marcus walked through the threshold.

Something didn't smell right. Peter did not want to give Marcus the satisfaction of being intimidated. In the years they'd known each other they'd learnt each others flaws and virtues. Georgie-boy's apartment was beautifully furnished in the best in French furniture. These were the remnants of Mr. J and Georgie-boy's life together. Even though Peter knew of Georgie-boy's past witht he deceased Mr. J, he'd never seen a single picture of him. There were paintings on every wall, and pictures of Georgie-boy, friends, and old employees of the bar, but none of Mr. J. Georgie-boy only said Mr. J never liked having his picture taken. Mr J had been a very private person.

Marcus led Peter to the living room as if he lived there. Peter knew this was just a ploy to get under his skin. Marcus took off his t-shirt and sat down on the sofa. "Care for a drink? Georgie-boy will be out in a second. He needed to take a shower. The old man needed to refresh himself," Marcus cooed.

"No thanks, Marcus. What are you doing here? I thought Georgie-boy wanted to speak with me."

"I do. Sorry to keep you waiting. At my age you discover the need to shower more often, even after some late afternoon exertions. Marcus, put your shirt back on. I do appreciate your bravado, but now is not the time," Georgie-boy said as he walked in. He was a big man, 6'3" and pure muscle, although some of the definition had faded with age. You could see he was still an imposing figure. His sahved head perfectly showed off his kind, green eyes. Today though thye shone in a serious light.

Peter now started to feel some fear. "How are you Georgie-boy? I got worried when I found the bar still locked."

"Don't worry my dear boy. I went to the doctor last month. Healthy as a horse I am, except maybe some heartburn. I'll probably outlive you both." He sat down on the sofa next to Marcus. "Enough about me. I wanted to speak about you and Marcus here."

Peter sat on the armchair opposite the sofa. He suddenly felt he was in an interrogation room, a finely furnished one. Marcus grinned at him for a second as he put his hand on Georgie-boy's thigh. Georgie-boy made no attempt to move it away.

"Peter, I don't know how to tell you this. I want you to remember that I care for you like a son. You are my best bartender, and probably the best I'll ever have. Marcus came to me this morning, icebag on his eye and told me what happened. I'm not surprised the two of you fought. What I am shocked with is that it became physical. I've never known you to be aggresive. It's one of the things I love about you, your ability to keep a cool head in a tense situation. But when I saw Marcus's eye, I became worried. It's hard for me to say but I ca't have you working for me anymore. You attacked a fellow employee. Marcus will not press charges against you if I do this. The reality is that I can't have my employees fighting like this. It's bad for business. I hope you can understand." Georgie-boy looked saddened and dead serious.

Marcus had already brainwashed him and sealed the deal by sleeping with him. That's the thing about Marcus, you could never really say no to him once he turned on his charm. Georgie-boy did have a point though. Peter did assault Marcus, the kind of thing that gets people kicked off reality tv shows.

"If that's your decision George, then I have to accept it." Peter stood and turned around to leave. As he did, Georgie-boy put his hand on his shoulder.

"I still care about you, Pete. I have your last paycheck here for you."

Those words stung, last paycheck. Georgie-boy handed him the check. It wasn't much but still needed. Peter walked out of the apartment without uttering another word. As he walked down the first flight of stairs, he heard the apartment door open again. It was Marcus.

Peter's blood boiled. Had he known this woul have happened he would've given Marcus more than just a black eye. He never thought Marcus would sink so low as to get him fired. Now he'd have to start over. It was usually easy for him to do so, but not this time. Before he'd start over on his own accord. It would have been his choice to pick up and leave. Now the choice had been made for him.

Marcus caught up with him at the front door to the apartments. Marcus's mere presence behind Peter made him blind with rage. Since Peter knew that whatever he screamed right now would be heard by Georgie-boy he held his tongue. Marcus had done enough damage.

"If you want your job, back I'm sure I can convince Georgie-boy to give it to you," Marcus cooed.

Peter opened the door and stepped outside trailed by Marcus. He wished Marcus would leave him be.

"What do you want Marcus? You got me fired! Is that not enough for you? Never expected you to sink so low. I thought maybe you'd cockblock me at every turn til I slept with you, but this! Fuck! This was too much. You turned Georgie-boy against me. You know he's like a father to me."

"If you want it back, I can talk to Georgie-boy. I'll say it was just a stupid missunderstanding between exes. All you got to do is say you were wrong to kick me out of bed and then throw a coffee mug at me."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Peter screamed as the street lamps turned on. "Get out of my face, Marcus! You were a huge mistake the first time we were together. I just had to throw myself into the fire a second time. How stupid am I?"

"You want to hit mke again? You know I'm stronger than you. I'll win that fight. And this timer I night not feel as inclined to be merciful."

"Are you listening to yourself? You're talking like an utter dick."

The apartment door opened. It was Georgie-boy. "I'm going to start setting up the bar now. If you two are going to keep up this fight, I ask you to take it elsewhere. The customers are on their way." Georgie-boy went into the bar. His calm demeanor did nothing to quelch the anger in both men.

"Want to go to the alley and sort this out?" Marcus taunted.

At that moment, a young man stepped up. Peter was redwith anger. The young man looked at both of them. He was well dressed, too well dressed. His short black hair was perfectly coiffed. He looked like he was in the wrong side of town. His face was fresh and bewildered.

Marcus looked at him with contempt. How dare this guy just show up and interrupt him? "Do you need something? We're in the middle of a conversation. So if you could move along."

The young man was shocked by Marcus's words. A light went up in Peter's head. This was a simple way to get back at Marcus. Peter looked at the young man, and truly noticed how attrative he was. He looked into the guy's deep brown eyes. "Ignore him. He hasn't taken his pills today. You get to a certain age and you become a dick when you don't take them. Are you searching for something? Love your shirt by the way. I'm Peter." He offered his hand.

As the young guy shook Peter's hand he responded with a shy smile, "I'm Levi." He laughed, still nervous. "My father was always a huge fan of the jeans, hence the name."
"It's a good name, nice, strong, firm, just like your handshake. So Levi, going somewhere?" Peter looked over at Marcus with a grin an mouthed, Fuck you. Marcus was fuming and searching for something to reply.

"Peter! You can't go! We're talking."

"Correction, Marcus. We were talking. I have nothing else to say to you. Shouldn't you be getting ready for work? You are Georgie-boy's number one guy now. I'd go and ask one of the drag queens for some concealer for that shiner of yours. Wouldn't want you to lose tips because of it." Peter put his arm around Levi's shoulders. "Shall we go Levi? I'd love to chat with you and get to know you. Would you prefer coffee or a drink? Or maybe some dinner? We could go back to my place. Let's get going. Not much to see here." Peter and Levi walked away.

"I'll see you later, Petey!" Marcus yelled from behind.

Untitled, Chapter 1: Morning Fight

Pressure, it's what Peter always ran away from, pressure from expectations. He hated it. He desired to live free of people's expectations for him. He loved the unexpected, that sudden twist at the end of the story that always blew your mind and left you breathless. Living freely, moving through life unemcumbered. The only sure thing he liked was a paycheck every couple of weeks and having him next to him.
Not so much him, rather what he offered. They had been a couple in the past, Peter and Marcus. Apart from the great sex, their relationship had been an empty exercise in futility. Peter loved his freedom and his solitude. Marcus loved himself. They hadn't ended on the best of terms, but their bodies knew each other perfectly. Marcus was great to have in bed, excelent sex and nop expectations of breakfast and a call later.

Peter was never much for sleeping. One wouldn't call him a morning person, more like a restless soul. He awoke early today next to Marcus. The morning light shone on his lover's abs. Marcus always cared more for his body than anyone else. Peter appreciated this fact, at least from an aesthetic point of view. Ever so often they'd hook up after Peter ended his work shift at the bar. Though lately it was happening more often. They had cared for each other at one point but it was never love, not even a striking similarity.

Peter reached over to his nightstand and grabbed a cigarrette. As gently as possible, he lit it as not to wake Marcus. He wanted to avoid the usual morning after conversation. He didn't have anything to say today. What can one say to someone they just slept with who you have no feelings for? Peter closed his eyes and layed back down. He wasn't trying to fall asleep. As he put out what was left of his cigarrette, Marcus stirred.
"That was a great fuck."

"You're awake" It was more of a statement than a question.

"I always feel when you can't sleep and wake up. We do have a connection, you and me. Well, at least physically. Can't deny that." Marcus rolled over on top of Peter and kissed him. "But it was actually your cigarrette." He chuckled at kissed him again.

"What are you doing!" Peter pushed him off.

"I thought we could have a quick morning fuck. Then head off to the shower. It's better than coffee anyday."

"God Marc! Is that what we've reduced each other to? Fucking?" Peter lit another cigarrette as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"I hate those awful things."

"You were always trying to get me to quit."
"Secondhand smoke kills. Don't change the subject anyway." Marcus pulled Peter back. He started to kiss him all the way down to his navel. Peter without flinching or dropping his cigarrette pushed him off.

"Damn you Marc! I don't want to fuck."

"Honestly, why are you complaining? You agreed to this a long time ago. We are both willing participants in whatever it is. We had a great time last night as we usually do; and now you suddenly turn all holier than thou on me. Don't be a fucking hypocrite!" Marcus got up from the bed and started getting dressed. "I'm not saying I want to get back together, that I can't live without you, but just give me a break. This is just no-strings-attached sex, as we agreed. I know it better than you do apparently."

"Can it really be no-strings-attached between us?" Peter stood and pulled on a fresh pair of underwear.

"What!" Marcus looked at Peter flabbergasted and laughed. He walked over to Peter and looked him straight in the eyes. "Do you want to get back together?" He grabbed him by the neck and kissed him.

Peter dropped his cigarrette and returned the kiss. Their tongues explore each others mouths. They fall back into bed. Rubbing against each other. Marcus pulled off Peter's underwear and began to slowly kiss his way down to Peter's cock which was getting harder. Peter stopped moving and opened his eyes. As he looked at the ceeling, he doens't feel anything. "Stop."

"What the fuck!" Marcus looked up at Peter. "Why did you kiss me back?"

"I needed to know. I just needed to make sure there was nothing there. I already knew but, I don't know. You should leave." Peter pulled away and sat on the bed; as Marcus stands, his jeans undone, his cock poking through the top of his briefs, his cold glare boring into Peter. "I don't want to get back together; nor did I think about the possibility of it. I can't sleep with you anymore."

"You are a dumbass, Peter." As Marcus continued dressing in silence, Peter stood, pulled his underwear back on, and walked over to the kitchenette. Peter started to prepare himself some coffee.

"Marc, you and I are totally wrong for each other. If it wasn't for the sex we would never even look at each other."

"Fuck you!" screamed Marcus. "I may be a self-involved prick, but you, acting like a cool cucumber, are a liar. At least I'm honest. You act all cold and unfeeling, except I know you. Right now, I can feel the blood seething under your skin. You're a dormant volcano. I used to like that about you. Now all it does is piss me off. That's why this isn't working out. It's like a little revenge plot for you, a game. The thing is, I'm not playing."

"Get the fuck out of my apartment!" Peter threw the ceramic coffee mug he had in his had at Marcus. It hit him straight in the eye.

As Marcus falls to the floor, he laughs. "I told you." He stood\, grabbed his keys and left the apartment, slmming the door.

Peter fell to his knees in silence. He thought to himself, 'Marc is right.' On one hand, he was glad to be alone; on the other Marcus had hit a nerve. They knew each other well enough top be able to hit each other where it hurt the most, dead center. He'd had a point though, could they fuck each other with no string attached? In theory, they could. The truth was that there were strings. Strings one couldn't really see. Nonetheless, they were there. Things always get complicated.

Introduction

I started writing this last year. I scrapped it from lack of actual time. Not much time when you work a full time job and go to school at night. One needs to sleep ever so often. It's a love story. I'm a hopeless romantic even though it seems like I am not sometimes. I believe deep down we all are hopeless romantics, just some are more upfront about it. It's a selfish need to not be alone, to have someone to remember us when we are gone. Love is a funny thing really. It's the most beautiful sickness in the world. It can lift you up to the highest highs and  it can throw you down into the deepest recesses of the dark.

I dedicate this story to someone from my past. He probably won't be reading this, but that doesn't really matter to me. This is for me, not for him.

Liam Armando Boodoo, thank you for all you gave me, the love we shared and the heartache. We shaped each other more than we will ever know or admit. I know we both changed after all we went through. For better or worse, I'm glad you were in my life, even if it did endin not the best of terms.