Jensen pushed his grandmother’s antique serving bowl across the table. “Here, at least try them. It’s my mom’s special recipe for seared green beans. They’re completely different from any you’ve ever tasted. At least take one bite.”

Les said, “There’s something wrong about a bean inside a bean. No. I parted company with green beans in second grade. It was a toxic relationship.”

“Like the relationship between you and almost every other green vegetable.”

“Hey! I eat broccoli.”

Jensen shook his head. “That’s one of the oddest choices I can imagine for someone who claims to not like vegetables. Even a lot of people who like vegetables hate broccoli.”

“That’s me. I’m a mystery wrapped inside an enigma. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

Jensen laughed. “No. 95% of you is predictable.”

Les sliced into the steak on his plate and held a piece on his fork close to his mouth. “Now, this. I have to admit that you cooked it to perfection. You can prepare a steak for me any day.”

“It’s a little overdone, but I didn’t ruin it. I’m glad you like it.”

After swallowing the bite and sipping his glass of red wine, Les asked, “So what happened when you took the lasagna next door? You told me you did it, but I never heard any details about his reaction.”

“His mom’s dead.”

Les nodded. “Yeah, that sucks, but it’s not a surprise. I could see it creeping up on her from clear over here. Was it pancreatic cancer? That’s my best guess.”

Jensen furrowed his brow. “How did you know that?”

“It’s an insidious killer. I’ve heard stories of it killing in a couple of weeks. It’s hard for them to find it in the body until it’s too late.”

“Can we not talk about death at the dinner table? I’m still feeling a little disturbed about it. Maybe we can cuddle up a little on the couch after dinner. It doesn’t mean anything, but sometimes it helps. I’m glad you can still do that with me. It’s a good thing. You know?”

Les smiled. “Yeah, I could use a little bit of time close to a warm body on the couch, too. I hate this fall weather. Once we get past the middle of October, the cold and wet settle in. It seeps into my bones. Thank God for Thanksgiving a month from now helping us forget about it for a few days.”

Jensen knew that he didn’t have to explain to his best friend that a little cuddle on the couch didn’t mean anything more than the closeness of their friendship. Still, he hated any thoughts about what would happen if Les misunderstood. Three weeks after they broke up as a dating couple, Les asked if they could sit close, and Jensen said yes. The ongoing value of the cuddle was mutually appreciated from that point forward.

Dessert was delicious. Les brought a small pie from his favorite bakery in the city. He said, “I know it’s pumpkin, and that’s a little cliche at this time of year, but it’s the perfect excuse for whipped cream!”

“I made it from scratch for you.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. I don’t deserve you.”

Jensen raised an eyebrow. “Wow, what prompted that?”

“Well, actually I do deserve you, and I deserve a whole lot more. I just thought it sounded like the next line in the script if we were writing one.”

Jensen shook his head. “I’m glad I don’t live in your head. It’s a crazy, twisted place.”

After they finished dessert and loaded dishes into the dishwasher, Jensen and Les settled onto the sofa together. Jensen pushed his long, lanky body up against one end while Les settled in against his chest. He looked up into his friend’s face and said, “Now, it’s story time. I want to hear about what happened.”

Jensen sighed and said, “I fucked up.”

“You? What did you do? You’re Mr. Nice Guy. How did you fuck up something like a sympathy gesture?”

Jensen wrapped his arms over Les’s belly and rested his chin on Les’s head. “I think I pushed things a little too far. He’s lonely. You can almost feel that in the air when you walk through the door.”

“Too far? You didn’t sleep with him, did you?”

“Oh, fuck, no. Why would you even think that? I barely touched him. Do you think I’m a slut or something?”

“Okay, now I’m confused. Too far to me means sex. I think you’ll have to start from the beginning. You showed up at the door with a smile on your face and a lasagna pan in your hands. Now go from there.”

Jensen sighed. “I told him that I wanted to bring it over because I saw that his mom was sick, and then he said, ‘She’s dead. She died two days ago.’”

“Oh, wow. That’s a fucking mood killer. How do you respond to that? Do you say, ‘Um, well, let’s consider this as an option for the funeral reception.’”

“Yeah, right. Well, actually, the next couple of hours went well.”

Les rolled his head back and looked directly up at Jensen’s face. “Couple of hours? How long were you there? How long does it take to extend a little sympathy?”

Jensen tweaked a nipple through Les’s T-Shirt.

Les yelped and squirmed. “Hey, no! You don’t get to do that unless you’re planning to change into that singlet and let me take you down right there in the living room floor.”

“We both know who can take who down.”

“Prove it, fucker. You know I’m ready for it any day of the week.”

Jensen wrapped a hand over Les’s mouth. “I didn’t mean to get you all riled up. Be quiet and let me continue the story. The house was a mess, and I knew he was lonely. I couldn’t leave five minutes after I got there. I helped him clean up a bit, and we ordered pizza.”

Les reached up and pried the hand off his face. “You’re too sweet. You know that, don’t you? It might have been like pulling teeth to get you to go over there, but once you did, you turned into a total sweetheart.”

“Well, he wasn’t so bad. He is kind of hot, you know. I liked him even better close up. That sad look on his face made my heart pound. Am I a bad guy if I like seeing somebody like Alec vulnerable?”

“Oh, shit. You’re a goner, my friend. I was worried that you would fall for him. You like those older guys. Do you have a date in a couple of days?”

Jensen lowered his hands back down to Les’s belly. “No, I don’t. Particularly not after what happened. I’ll be surprised if I ever see him again, other than when he walks in and out of his front door.”

“Okay, you’ve got me hooked. Continue this story. You must be the little angel who turned into a devil when he fell to earth.”

“It was all good. I helped him clean up the kitchen. We talked about work. We shared a pizza. Then I fucked up. I touched his ankle. I shouldn’t have touched him. He freaked out.”

“Ankle? Why did you touch his ankle? Was there something kinky going on? You’ve messed up my picture now. The two of you are sitting on the couch. That little lust monster is pounding away in your head. Then you slide into the floor and reach for his feet?”

Jensen laughed out loud. “Yeah, it was like that. What the fuck? You’re trying to make it weird. You’re trying to make it like the wrestling fetish. Do you see your leg stretched out there on the couch right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, think about me at the other end of the couch instead of serving as your big pillow. Got the picture?”

Les smiled. “Oh, I’ve got it now. You were trying to be that sympathetic friend, and you reached out to pet his ankle. You still had that little lust monster in your heart, and you wanted to grope an ounce of flesh, but I get it. It was a gentle pat.”

“I moved closer, too.”

“So he thought you were making a move?”

Jensen groaned. “Yeah, that’s the best I can come up with. He practically threw me out. I wasted more than two hours. Now, I’m the flower killer and the fucker who tried to seduce a guy in mourning. That does sound kind of sick when I think about it. I guess maybe I shouldn’t blame him.”

“You know, I’m going to say this with the best intentions, and not just because you’re my friend. You know that I’ll tell you when you’re acting like an ass. It doesn’t happen with you as often as it does with me, but it happens. This wasn’t one of those cases. I think he’s a hopeless bastard. You did your best.”

Jensen sighed heavily. “No, I can’t. I can’t see him like that. He’s lonely and grieving. I invaded his space. I fucked up, Les. That’s what this is about.”

“I think you’ve already spent enough time on him. That’s my opinion. What’s on the tube tonight? Another episode or two of Queenie?”

“Wait, and yeah, we can watch a couple more episodes, and I think we’ll almost be caught up. It’ll feel weird to watch only one episode at a time. Before I turn on the TV, what should I do as my next step? I mean, part of me likes Alec. I want to hug him and help him get the house back in shape.”

“Oh, damn, really?”

Jensen wrapped his arms tighter around Les. “Yeah. What should I do?”

“I do have an idea if you can hold out and wait for it.”

“Well, yeah. I can’t go over there right now. He’d throw me out. What’s your idea?”

Les said, “When we get our first snowstorm this winter, pull your farmer boots on and traipse over there and offer to help shovel his walk.”

“You mean with my snow blower?”

Les smiled. “Yeah. I forgot that you do everything the easy way. That’s even better. He won’t think you’re up to something. You’re simply offering better technology.”

“I kind of like that.” Jensen pointed the remote control at the TV. He said, “Hey, while I get this set up, why don’t you go out in the kitchen and get us each a glass of wine. I think there was enough left in the bottle for two glasses.”

Les grumbled something about the life of an indentured servant while Jensen pressed buttons on the remote setting up episode 4 of season 3. Les returned with two wine glasses, bowed his head and offered one to Jensen. “For you, my gracious liege.”

“Maybe you should consider getting down on the floor and touch my ankle.”

Jensen loved the sound of a full-throated laugh from Les. He settled back on the sofa and pushed the back of his head against his friend’s chest. Les said, “You know, maybe single isn’t so bad anyway. I get TV, a warm body, and wine with none of the angst. There are no worries about body bloating, careful manscaping, or bedroom performance. What do you say, buddy? Should we toast the single life?”

Jensen played along with Les’s toast, but he knew that something nagged him at the back of his mind. Single wasn’t glorious, and single wasn’t love. With a friend like Les, it promised comfort, and without concern for someone else’s schedule, it promised freedom, but it wasn’t love. “Am I cheating if I add a request that it not be forever?”

“Well, aren’t you my 40-year safety zone?”

“What’s that?”

Les rolled his head back and looked up into Jensen’s eyes. “That means we make a pledge to each other right now. If we both make it to 40, and we’re both single, it’s time for the wedding bells…to each other. You know that you could do worse than me.”

“I could do worse than you. I have done worse than you, and you know it.” Jensen’s thoughts raced through his past boyfriends, but he wondered if something better than the painful three dates with Les was around the corner. Perhaps it was even next door.

“Let’s toast. To being single…for now…and the 40-year failsafe!”

Jensen smiled as the glasses clinked. “Now let’s get going with that palace intrigue. The show where falling in love is a good way to lose your head.”