In the morning, Jav woke alone in the double bed. In the corner, Stef sat cross-legged at his little shrine, meditating with his earphones on. He wore only sweats. A feathered wing was tattooed across each shoulder blade. They sheltered a centaur inked dead center on Stef’s back, its bow drawn, arrow aimed straight up.
Jav pivoted on the bed, putting his head at the foot, laying his cheek on his crossed arms. Eye-level with the half-man, half-horse. Beneath the creature’s hooves were three lines of print:
Man is a centaur,
a tangle of flesh and mind,
divine inspiration and dust.
Jav started to match his breathing to the rise and fall of Stef’s shoulders, trying to connect with the experience. He’d never meditated before. Not easy for someone whose mind was a continuous narrative of thoughts and images and ideas. Quieting the noise was challenging, but he managed to eject most of it as he read the words on Stef’s back, over and over.
Flesh and mind.
Divine inspiration and dust.
Finally, Stef leaned and blew out the candle burning on the altar. Reaching up to slide off the headphones, he looked back over his shoulder. Deep blue gaze, a scarred eyebrow, one dimple deepening as his smile stretched open. A curl of smoke around his head.
“Namaste, motherfucker.”
He was beautiful.
Jav smiled. “What’s up, Buddha?”
“I’m starving.”
“Me too.”
“I’m gonna make some eggs.”
“I need to jump in the shower.”
“Towels under the sink,” Stef said, heading out of the bedroom. “Make yourself at home.”
Jav turned on the water and opened the cabinet under the sink. Pulling out a towel, he upset a small wire basket. He crouched to clean up and his eyebrows wrinkled as he collected two Fleet enemas and a black rubber syringe. Plus a bottle of something called Swedish Colt Erotic Anal Douche.
He let out a slow, deliberate exhale. “I’ll take ‘Words that Aren’t Sexy in Combination’ for $200,” he said under his breath. He shut the cabinet and stepped into the shower, not feeling like himself anymore.
We’ll go slow, Stef said in his mind. Slow as you want.
Even at this early stage of the game he couldn’t imagine Stef trying to force him into anything.
And I’d deck his ass into next week if he did.
The macho thought rolled its eyes. Stef worked with sexual assault victims. CONSENT was tattooed on his conscience.
It was a small comfort.
“Find everything you need?” Stef said, as Jav emerged from the bathroom.
“Mm.” Jav got a mug and poured some coffee.
In his sweats and a Blues Traveler T-shirt, Stef was scruffy and tousled, a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. He dumped an entire bag of baby spinach into a skillet, letting it wilt down and shrink. He took a spatula and made four small holes in the mound of greens, then dropped a sliver of butter into each one. Tip of his tongue held in his teeth, he cracked four eggs on top. A pinch of salt sprinkled, the excess shook over his left shoulder. Four crunching grinds of the pepper mill.
“Looks good,” Jav said, his growling stomach trumping his messy thoughts.
“Lilia taught me this.” Stef tilted the skillet this way and that to distribute the egg whites. “I eat it like four times a week.” He put on Lilia’s accent. “Make you strong like bull.”
They took plates to the table, divided the paper and read over breakfast. Beneath the table, their feet touched.
“Something on your mind?” Stef said. He wore Clark Kent glasses to read and they had no business making him look that good.
“No,” Jav said. “Why?”
“You’re sighing a lot.” Stef turned sideways and put his feet on an empty chair. He went back to reading. Jav went on looking at him, finding tiny vulnerabilities juxtaposed against the big, solid frame of Stef’s body. Broad in his chest and shoulders, secure in his brazenly inked skin. Yet the fingers curled around his coffee mug were soft, fidgeting a little. Beneath the harsh, stern frames of his glasses, he was biting on a corner of his lower lip.
Unlike the Compass, Jav thought, the Finch’s mind went down fifteen flights of stairs into a warren of secret rooms and passageways. When Trueblood needed direction, he sent for the Compass. When the heart of Trueblood was troubled, he sent for the Finch.
“Stop staring at me,” Stef said.
Jav blinked. “I was writing.”
Stef glanced over. “Need a pencil?”
“No.”
Stef folded the paper and tossed it on the table. He ran a hand through his hair, then crossed his arms over his chest. “You have fun last night?” he asked.
“Hell yeah.”
“Then talk to me. What’s in your head this morning?”
“Truth?”
“Please.”
“I’m wondering how often you use that stuff under your sink.”
Stef’s brows came down. Then reversed direction and clarity shot up his face like a window shade. “Oh,” he said. “The stuff in the basket.”
“Yeah.”
“The Swedish shit was a gag gift from a friend with really bad taste. I’ve never used it, I just keep it under there as a conversation starter.” He freed a hand and gestured between them. “You can see it works well.”
Jav gathered plates and cups and took them to the sink, both for distraction and distance. “Don’t mean to put you on the spot.”
“It’s a fair question. Fairest answer is I use it if I know in advance I’m going to be on the bottom bunk.”
“Gotcha.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you’re a hair concerned about what I expect of you in the sack.”
“I did invite you into my tree house,” Jav said, putting away the eggs. “I didn’t say it was rational up there.”
“Stop cleaning up.”
“You’re the shrink. Don’t you know nervous busywork when you see it?”
Stef laughed and leaned his crossed arms on the table. “What’s your expectation?”
“Mine?”
“No, the guy standing behind you.”
“I don’t know. I mean, I watched some gay porn and—”
“Really?”
“Yeah. While I was on the road, I gave it a whirl.”
“And? Doesn’t do anything for you?”
“Oh it does, don’t get me wrong. But at a certain point it goes from sexy to worrisome.”
Stef held up a hand. “Time out. If you’re watching the hardcore flicks with men in masks fisting each other, I’ll tell you right now, it’s not my thing.”
“Dude, that shit is a train wreck.”
“I know. Horrifying, yet fascinating.”
“I saw some guy, I swear to God, his asshole was inside-out. How is that fun?”
“Rest easy, it’s nothing I’m into.”
“I didn’t think it was, but…”
“Can we get away from this visual and talk about what was sexy?”
“It’s all pretty sexy until one guy starts pounding the other’s ass. I mean, riding a guy hard and fast that way? All I can think is ouch.”
Stef nodded. “Did you find any clips that were slow and easy?”
“A few.”
“And?”
“Those were okay.”
“Only okay?”
Jav exhaled heavily. “Guys look so stupid when they’re fucking.”
Stef laughed.
“I don’t know why I don’t give it two seconds of thought when it’s a guy with a woman, but seeing two guys going at it? It’s like a turn-on and hilarious at the same time.”
“I get it.”
“Do you? Am I over-thinking this?”
“Nah. Well, yeah, a little. But it’s like a turn-on and hilarious at the same time.”
“Great.”
“Look, porn isn’t reality. Those guys are professionals and they’re catering to a certain audience.”
“I know. I’m just… I don’t know.”
“It’s a good conversation to have. We’re having it a little earlier than I expected but…” Stef cleared his throat and looked down, shredding a corner of the newspaper. “Personally, when it comes to playing catcher, I can handle about five minutes. I don’t particularly like it hard and fast. I definitely don’t like it rough or violent or demeaning. I like it to a point and if no one’s gotten off by then, I move on to something else. That’s my back door resume. Not that you asked for it.”
“What about when you pitch?”
The color rose up in Stef’s face as his smile unfolded. “I can go about two minutes before I lose it. Honestly, Landes, I’m a lousy gay lay.”
“Shut up.”
“Telling you.” Still red-faced, still smiling, Stef drew a deep breath and raked fingers through his hair. His exhale was careful, as if over a pile of rare, valuable parchment fragments that could disintegrate at the merest disturbance.
“I know I act like an idiot,” Jav said.
You’re scared and playing the idiot card, Gloria reminded him. It’s not attractive.
“The truth is I’m nervous,” he said.
“We won’t do anything that makes you nervous.” Stef leaned back on two chair legs. “I think I know what you’re really asking. The answer is I don’t have criteria for what counts as sex and what doesn’t. In other words, it’s not your ass or nothing.”
Jav laughed then. “Good to know.”
“Was I off the mark?”
“No, no. You’re extremely perceptive.”
“As far as I’m concerned, we’ve had sex a few times now. Once there.” Stef pointed to the couch. “Over there.” He pointed to the wall by the front door. “And once in there.” His thumb flipped over his shoulder to the bedroom.
“It was twice in there,” Jav said. “Get it right.”
“Which was your favorite?”
“Well…” A fiery blush swept from Jav’s neck to his crown as a hundred memories put two hundred hands down his pants.
“Yeah, that was hot,” Stef said, grinning. “I even liked the sleeping part, which is kind of a thing.”
“Me too.”
The legs of the chair lowered with a thump. “I don’t want you to worry about who tops or bottoms. We’re a long way from there and like I said, it’s not criteria.”
Jav looked down at his heels, bumping against the cabinet doors. “I don’t really see myself bottoming.”
“Then you won’t. It’s cool.”
Jav glanced at him. “Is it?”
“Dude, come on. As far as partners go, I’m a pretty easy deal. I don’t have an agenda.”
“All right.”
“If we do nothing but kiss and rub against each other, I’ll be fine.”
“You will?”
“I think so.” Stef’s head tilted toward the bedroom. “We can go test the theory if you want.”