Fate

"A penny for your thoughts."

Mikal knew without looking that the object of his lust was right next to him. His stomach tightened; his pulse raced, and his throat seemed to constrict around words not yet formed.

"Can I get you another?"

He gave himself a mental shake and turned to greet the stranger. "I've had my quota for the evening, but you can join me if you'd like."

The smile given back to him made Mikal's groin tingle. He watched the dark-haired man slide into the booth, taking the seat opposite him. "My name's Henry."

"Mikal," he said, offering his hand at the same time. The touching of palms and fingers made Mikal's head swim. He kept a firm grip on Henry's hand, holding it far longer than was necessary, something Henry obviously didn't mind—his grin was that telling. When Mikal did finally let go, he couldn't help but wonder what Henry's hand would feel like forever entwined with his. The realization of his thoughts were startling, since he had not had thoughts as deep as these with Bryan. He had thought Bryan was his everything, his all-in-all, and yet the reactions he was having with Henry were ten times as powerful as the ones he had had with Bryan.

"Nice to meet you," Henry said before ordering himself a drink from a passing server. "You don't mind if I have another, do you?"

"Not at all—as long as you're not driving."

Henry chuckled, the sound was hypnotic and only added to the desire that Mikal was feeling. "I'm not driving," Henry answered, pulling Mikal back once more from his lustful fantasies. "Are you?" he nodded toward the small row of empty beer bottles that littered the table.

"Not all of those were mine, but no, I'm not."

"I noticed you were with someone earlier, but he," Henry nodded his head toward Thad, who was leaving the club, "wasn't your type?"

"My type?"

"Tall, dark, handsome—gay?"

This time it was Mikal's turn to laugh. "Since he's leaving with a man, I'm pretty sure the gay part was not the issue."

"Then what was?"

He wanted to say "you" but instead chose to simply shrug his shoulders and offer another excuse. "It was a blind date."

"Oh, that explains it all," Henry answered, "my sisters are notorious for that."

"How many do you have?"

"Two. I'm the youngest of three, yet for the past several years I've felt like the oldest."

Mikal angled his head to one side and again tried to piece together where he had seen Henry and why the tiny bits and pieces he was learning about the man seemed familiar and yet he knew he had never conversed with the handsome fellow.

"I've still got that penny."

"Huh?"

"You disappeared again. Lost in thought? I know I'm not that exciting, but if I'm intruding, I can leave."

Mikal reached out and took Henry's hand. "No, don't. I . . . I really like your company. I just," he sighed and stared down at Henry's fingers. They were delicate and well manicured, yet nothing about Henry seemed delicate. "You seem so familiar to me," he whispered, allowing his fingers to move casually across Henry's skin.

Henry rolled his hand over, allowing Mikal to trace the lines of his palm with his fingers. "I wish I could say the same," he admitted, "but I've never met you before."

Mikal shook his head, ran his palm across Henry's wrist, and felt the rapid pulse that beat beneath the white flesh.

"Perhaps you've heard me play?" Henry asked.

A rush of memories swept over Mikal. The sound of an orchestra, Chopin, and an old woman whispering words of pride collided with the image of a dark-haired pianist came to light. His grip tightened on Henry's wrist, as his gaze shot up and locked with Henry's. "Henry Shale. You played in Baltimore two years ago."

Henry smiled wide. "Give or take a few weeks, but yes. I take it you were there?"

Mikal's hand fell away as dawning and realization collided with each other. "I was!" he said, his voice taking on the excitement of a surprised teen. "I was there with," he swallowed the lump in his throat, sighed and finished his sentence, "a friend."

"Ah, a 'friend'—and where is this friend now?"

The sudden awkwardness of the conversation was easy to feel, and Mikal sensed Henry's sudden need to apologize for it. He quickly lifted his hand. "Bryan passed away a couple years ago, about six weeks or so after we saw your performance."

The mood of both men was now altered. Henry reached over and gripped Mikal's hand, squeezing it firmly. "I'm sorry."

Mikal's lips rose in the customary smile, the one given to those who wish to offer words, but really have no words to offer. "Thank-you," he said. "This blind date was actually supposed to be my introduction back into society—the dating side of it."

"And . . . was it the right time or not?"

He looked up and tilted his head. "I think so," Mikal admitted.

Henry's lips again formed into a smile that left Mikal captivated.

"I met your mother that night," Mikal suddenly offered, hoping to lighten the mood.

This time Henry's demeanor changed. A mixture of confusion and apprehension seemed to etch the lines of his face and darken his already dark-blue orbs. "My mother?"

"I was sitting next to her. She leaned in and started bragging about her son, the piano player, and how much she enjoyed listening to you."

Henry's chest rose and fell as he took several deep breaths. Tears seemed to suddenly appear, moistening his eyes, and his lower lip trembled. Mikal instantly reached out, this time offering whatever support he could give. He soon realized that the reaction Henry was having meant only one thing. "I'm sorry," he whispered before rising from the table and pulling on Henry's hand. "Let's go somewhere else. There are way too many emotions playing out, and this," he looked around the room, "really isn't the place for them."

Henry didn't argue, and soon the two men were outside, walking next to each other with their hands tucked into their slacks or left hanging loose at their sides. "You sat next to her?" Henry asked, suddenly breaking the silence as the street lights lit their path.

"I did. I had to leave before the concert was over, but while I was there she showered you with love and attention. She was very proud of you."

"She always was. Too proud really. I told her when I was younger that she wasn't allowed to brag about me. It was embarrassing."

"When did she pass?"

The two men stopped and leaned against the railing of the river. The water rolled and splashed under the bridge. The sound was a great accompaniment to their somber mood.

"She passed away that night," Henry said. "After the concert was over, I came to collect her. She always loved sitting up high, though she could have had a front-row seat whenever she wanted."

"The view is better up high," Mikal added. He closed his eyes, cursing himself for not checking on the woman before he left.

"I woke her up and teased her for falling asleep. She was mortified, telling me that she'd fallen asleep on some handsome man and probably drooled on him."

Mikal shook his head. "So, she passed later that night?"

"Yeah," Henry looked over, his brow furrowed slightly, "You thought she died right there next to you, didn't you?"

Mikal nodded his head yes, admitting his horror.

"I got her home and she passed away during the night. It took us a few weeks to get everything settled. Then my sisters and I drove down to Miami to release her ashes. She and dad loved Florida

Mikal rubbed his face with his hands, as the remembrance of a man supporting two women walking along the bay came back to greet him. "Do you have a redheaded sister and a brunette?"

"Yes. Don't tell me you know them, too?—Kara and Danielle."

"No, I don't know them. Bryan's will was being read that day—the day you and your sisters were on the beach, and I saw you. You had an urn, bronze I think. I was watching from the window in the lawyer's office."

"Wow."

Mikal nodded his head in agreement.

"Mikal, would you like to have dinner with me?"

"I would."

The two men held hands as they walked back toward the club. Each one was lost in thought as they rewound the conversation they'd shared and played it back in their heads. When they parted ways, Henry agreed to meet Mikal at his hotel the following evening. The desire to pull Henry into a hug was strong, yet Mikal fought the urge. They had shared too much, far more than was normal when meeting a stranger, and to force something more was wrong, no matter how much Mikal wanted it. He watched Henry climb into another cab, as his pulled away.

The following morning and afternoon seemed to drag on for Mikal. He felt like a teenager; his clothing seemed all wrong for the occasion, and he had opted to call down to the hotel desk, ask for a driver, and had broken down and gone shopping, something he hadn't done since Bryan's death. When the knock on his hotel door sounded, he jumped out of his skin, mentally chastised himself, and ordered his libido to take a backseat to decorum.

Henry stood, waiting. He wore khaki pants and a polo shirt and was carrying a bottle of wine, which Mikal thanked him for, and set in a bucket of ice he'd picked up moments before. "You look great," he told his companion before stepping into the hall and walking with him toward the elevator. "I hope you like Italian."

"I do," Henry admitted.

They remained close together as they rode in the elevator. Mikal caught the scent of Henry's cologne and studied his clean-shaven face. He too had taken the time to scrap off his five-o'clock shadow, as well as pocket some condoms. There was no denying his attraction to Henry, and he knew the other man felt the same desire; it was not a question of if something would happen between them, but when it would happen.

Dinner was at an Italian restaurant just two blocks away from the hotel. Henry admitted that he'd dined there before and was quite familiar with the menu as well as the staff. Mikal was more than willing to let the other man take the lead and enjoyed having another order for him. He had often catered to Bryan's whims, but he had done so to keep the peace more than to enjoy the act. Henry was different than Bryan, and over the past two years Mikal had slowly come to terms that he had changed a lot for the sake of Bryan and their relationship. He had become more eccentric, flamboyant, and somewhat rude. With Henry he found himself returning to a more natural and at ease kind of personality, something he was fond of and had not realized he'd missed.

"I'm going to stock up on pennies," Henry said.

His words interrupted Mikal's thoughts. "I'm sorry," Mikal said. "You just make me think," he admitted. "It's not a bad thing, mind you—good thoughts. I was thinking about how much I missed this."

"This?"

"Yeah, a relaxing evening with a friend. I don't have to be crazy and dynamic. That was Bryan's thing. I never realized it until after the fact, but . . ."

"You were wearing a mask you didn't even realize you'd put on."

He nodded his head. "Exactly."

Henry took a bite of his pasta, swallowed, and then continued to add to the conversation. "I wore a mask too, for years, as most men do—gay men that is—though straight men have their own masks as well. I kept my sexuality a secret from my family until my mom came out and just asked me about it. I knew in my gut that she'd be okay, but still, there is always that part of you that is hesitant and fearful."

"But they knew all along, didn't they—your mom, dad, and sisters?"

"Yeah, aunts, uncles, cousins—hell everyone seemed to know but me. It was hard shedding the secret mask of testosterone junkie, but when I did, life seemed to be a hell of a lot easier."

"My parents weren't that excepting—and I traveled this path alone for a long time."

"Then you met Bryan?"

"Yes, Bryan. He was definitely the man who helped me embrace my true desires. But he groomed me too. It wasn't until after his death that I slowly realized that I had become someone that I hadn't really liked."

"And now?"

Mikal smiled. "I'm very much my own person."

"Good, because it's this person that I like."

Another blush seemed to roll over Mikal's cheeks. Henry reached over and took his hand. Their fingers entwined, and the desire Mikal felt was mirrored in Henry's eyes. The rest of the meal seemed bland as the two men ate out of habit, not necessity or desire. They left the restaurant, this time arm in arm, heads bent together, and bodies pressed into each other. The disapproving looks as well as the curious and accepting ones from strangers didn't seem to interfere with their budding desire. Mikal was lost in the essence of the pianist, and it seemed to him that Henry felt the same way about him.

They arrived back at Mikal's hotel, and after Mikal unlocked the door, he felt Henry's breath on the back of his neck. "I have to ask—have you had a lot of lovers?"

Mikal shook his head no. "Bryan and I were together for ten years, and before him there were only the two others. You?" he asked, as he remained against the door, Henry still pressed in behind him.

"Enough to know what I'm doing," Henry told him. "My last serious relationship lasted three years. I left him when I found out he'd been sleeping around with others."

Mikal turned around; his chest rose and fell. "Protection then."

"Until we're ready to move beyond that, yes."

It seemed strange and yet comforting for Mikal to speak so openly and honestly to Henry. He opened the door to his room, stepped back, and watched Henry step in. The door closed behind them, the lock slid into place, and Mikal used the bolt to assure their privacy.

He was in Henry's arms and Henry was in his as soon as the final lock was in place. Their hands seemed to have minds of their own. Each man worked to free the other from their clothing. Henry's polo shirt was pulled over his head, revealing a white undershirt that was soon nothing more than a pile of cloth on top of a lush carpet. Mikal's dress shirt lost several buttons, while some of the threads of his undershirt were broken loose. He groaned when Henry's lips found the sensitive spot on his neck that sent shivers of electricity down his spine.

The removal of clothes was chaotic, as shoes were kicked off, belts freed, and pants discarded. When both men were naked, they came together again. Mikal ran one palm down Henry's rib cage. The other slipped up to cup the back of his head. He pushed his fingers into the other man's hair, pulling slightly, forcing Henry to angle his head so that their tongues could taste deeper. The wet tongues moved back and forth, twisting and turning, sampling every crevice that was within their reach.

He felt Henry's hands move across his shoulders, down his arm, and over his abdomen. His cock jerked in response to the firm grip of the other man's fingers as they wrapped possessively around his hardened shaft. A feeling of being lightheaded rolled over him, leaving him slightly breathless as Henry stroked his cock, alternating the movements from firm to gentle and quick to slow.

"Fuck yeah," he whispered into Henry's mouth, before moving his lips away and sucking hungrily on the flesh under Henry's right lobe. "Right there," Mikal gasped as Henry rolled his thumb around the soft skin of the mushroom head. He felt his precum being painted across the purple-hued tip and trembled when Henry whispered for him to climb on the bed. Mikal moved, taking Henry with him. His hands reached out, stroking the other man's cock, while leading him toward the king-size mattress and plush comforter.

The edge of the bed caught Mikal's knee. He sat down, pulling Henry toward him. They moved together, Henry pushing back, Mikal willingly falling to the yielding surface. Their nipples rubbed together as Henry ground his hips into Mikal's pelvis. Mikal wrapped one leg around one of his lover's and rolled him to his back. He reached down, found the hardened appendage that had jerked and smacked at his own when they had come together.

The thickened flesh, the ridged veins, and the moistened tip were caught up in Mikal's loving grip. He stroked Henry's full length, while abandoning the other man's lips and capturing his right nipple. The bead was suckled, tugged, and rolled back and forth between Mikal's teeth and lips. His tongue traced the outer edge of the darkened flesh. He listened to his partner, recognizing the sounds of pleasure, and increased the tension of the nipping when Henry muttered "harder" under his ragged breath.

While he sucked on first one nipple, then the other, he felt Henry's hands moving down his back, feeling the rippling muscles that quivered beneath his palms. Henry's fingers dug into his ass, pushing their bodies closer together. Mikal felt the weight of his partner's balls pressing into him; he ground his hips, rolling their cocks back and forth, mashing the flesh and making them both shudder in desire and lust. Henry kneaded Mikal's ass cheeks, sending moans of pleasure from Mikal's throat.

"I need your mouth on my cock. Suck me off," Henry ordered.

Mikal looked into Henry's blue eyes and whimpered; the sound seemed foreign to him, a noise forgotten and feared never to be heard from again. He moved away, leaving Henry alone, but only for a second; he turned his body, offering his cock to his lover, while positioning himself to suck on the one he'd been commanded to.

He took hold of Henry's shaft, opened his mouth, and greedily took the whole head and several inches of the warm tool into his mouth. The head smashed against the roof of his mouth, he turned himself, angling his tongue and jaw so that his teeth would gently scrap along the edge of Henry's cock. Without much effort, he took another inch of flesh down, swallowing the buildup of saliva and welcoming the new taste of a lover's arousal.

Henry did not waste time either. Mikal felt the warm enveloping moisture of Henry's mouth as he too worked to better acquaint himself with a new man's cock. A spasm of pleasure rolled over his shoulders and down his spine and settled in his groin. His cock jerked forward and his hips moved voluntarily in a gyrating motion that forced another two inches down Henry's throat.

Between the two of them, the sound of lust and the musky scent of man mingled heavily in the air, adding to the erotic nature of the act. Mikal's senses came alive as he sucked harder, rolling the cock back and forth within the depths of his mouth. He played with his lover's balls, teasing the orbs, before taking a moment to pop off Henry's dick and bathe the velvet sack with his tongue. Each sphere was pushed and massaged with the flat of his tongue. Eventually they were gathered up, sucked and teased within the warmth of his mouth.

Henry groaned around Mikal's dick. The vibrations added to the heightened pleasure Mikal was feeling. He dropped the other man's balls and ground down onto Henry's face. "Fuck yeah," he muttered, as his hips moved back and forth, pumping deeper into his willing partner. When he knew the edge of his release was coming, he told Henry. The feel of Henry's nails digging into his ass made his eyes roll back. He stiffened his muscles, took control of his lust for a moment, and hurried to take back the dick that bobbed angrily at his chin.

With Henry's cock back in his mouth, he allowed himself to once again give in to the sensations that were assaulting his mind and body. Henry went to work, pulling at his cock, forcing the tool down his throat, while urging his own deeper into Mikal's.

Simultaneously they erupted. Their semen flowed thick and hot, easily swallowed up. Mikal growled around the tool in his mouth, as he felt the muscles working to free him of all his cum. He took a moment to savor the shots of milky rope that coated his tongue before urging another volley to explode.