Silver Heat Ch. 03

"Do you need my permission?"

"You gonna keep on being a fuckhead? I asked because I want to know if you are gonna help me smoke it."

"I am sorry. I aam just not very comfortable being around drunks."

"Is that because you are one?"

"How did you. . ."

"I could tell by the way you always refuse a drink. I could tell by the way you drank those Mai-tais on that first night. I could tell you had slipped and were afraid you would fall. That's why I asked you over. Part of the reason, anyway."

"What was the rest of the reason?"

"I was extremely attracted to you and I wanted a chance to be with you. I was afraid you'd drive off into the night towing that weird trailer and I'd never get the chance to find out."

"Find out what?"

"Find out what a wonderful man you are and how great it would be getting to know you, and how big that thing that was bulging your pants really was. It is okay you know to be physically and mentally attracted to someone."

"I was so stupid I didn't eve know."

"Cummon Lance cut the bullshit."

"What do you mean?"

"You knew I was coming on to you. You knew you were gonna come home with me. You knew we were gonna make it."

"Not really."

"Oh yeah. Then why did you ask me the questions about my motivation in asking you over?"

"Yeah, well, okay, I suspected."

"And you came anyway.

"Yes I did."

"And now you are ashamed of it, of us."

"NO, no not ashamed, not ever. Oh Neal. God I am so sorry. I'm so stupid. I have to think everything over and over, even afterward. Martha always said I wanted to 'edit' everything, keep going over it until every 'I' was dotted and every 't' crossed."

"So what do you think?"

"Oh jeez, about what?"

"About the dope. Should I get it or not? You gonna help me smoke it or not?"

"Sure, okay, why not?"

"So that means you'll be staying a while?"

"Yeah, sure, okay, a while."

"Uh, Lance?"

"Yes Neal, what else?"

"Well, Lance, ya see it's this way. I could just buy a quarter. That would cost about fifty bucks. But that wouldn't last very long. But you see, if I had a hundred seventy five bucks I could buy a whole oh zee, and that would last a whole lot longer. Of course if I had about twenty-five hundred bucks I could by a whole el bee, and that would last for years, man. So what do you think?"

"You're askin' me for the money, huh?"

"Well you know, on my limited income I could easily afford fifty bucks, but like I said, that wouldn't last ver long. Especially with you helpin to smoke it. So I was thinkin;. . ."

"That if I were gonna stay a bit longer, we might need a hundred and seventy five bucks."

"Geez, ya never know, lance, maybe we should go for the whole el bee."

"Huh huh. How about we just go for the one seventy five for the whole hosie?"

"Not hosie, Lance Oh Zee as in one ounce."

"Ha ha, I get it. Okay, one seventy five it is. My wallet's on the dresser in your room."

"Thank you Lance. Thank you so much. You will never know how much I appreciate this."

"So what do you hafta do to get this Oh Zee?"

"Well I just gotta call a friend. But Lance. There is something else you should know. Now don't freak out or start analysing everthing, okay?"

"Okay what now?"

"Well ya see, this 'friend', the one I get the dope from, well, he's sorta, wellnot sorta. Well hell, he's a former lover."

"A former lover? How former? Well it's been about a year since we have been together. He was there for me after my wife, after Mary died, you know. I never even knew that the , well, uh, the 'bi' tendencies of my youth were still hiding there deep inside me, submerged all those years, And then I was lost, kinda like you . And then I met Jake and he did so much for me, but, well, it kinda didn't work out, but we are still great friends. You want me to go into more details, Lance? I will if you want me to."

Lance reaches to take Neal's coffee cup, places both on the night stand. He sits again, turns, takes Neal's face between his hands and kisses him firmly on the lips. He maintains his grip on his lover's face. There's one more thing I want to ask you, Neal."

"Anything, lance. I mean that. Anything."

"Do you remember anything bout last night?"

"You mean about your threatening to leave?"

"No, after that. After you came home, uh. . . drunk. Do you remember anything you said?

Suddenly Neal's face, his chest, his thighs are bright red. He tries to look at the floor, but ance has his face trapped, looking in his eyes."

"I remember."

"Is is true. What you said. That you, you wanted me, in that way?"

The blush continues, covering most of Neal's body now. "Well yes, and. . . no. I wanted you that way, wanted to try it. I never. But more. I uh, er, oh hell! Ever since I first set eyes on that, that, he reaches, grasps Lance's cock, "on this. I have fantasized, wondered, what it would feel like to be filled up with with THIS big thing. But Lance. It scares me, too. I know. It's crazy. I know it'll probably even hurt like hell, but even so. It is hard to explain, but still, I think about it every time we are together. But knowing how you feel, I thought, well II though you would you know think it was, I was too, too, queer."

Lance, speechless, says nothing. This is heavy duty stuff he is unready for. His new best friend has just unloaded on him probably the most honest, secret, personal thing anyone could reveal about himself, and Lance's inclination is to 'process' it. Not knowing how to process it, he stores it in memory, grateful for such a personal gift, but wary about what to do about it. "Let's have breakfast," he pipes up, postponing any action.

All during breakfast, Neal wonders how Lance will take the information reluctantly imparted. "Will Lance begin our next lovemaking with the sole intent of fucking me," Neal wonders. "I hope my confession doesn't destroy the spontaneity that has marked our love making so far. Neal's recovery from the night before was advanced by breakfast and more coffee. While Lance was still at the breakfast table, Neal went to the phone.

"Jake, yeah hi. Yeah, Neal. I'm doin' great Jake, damn fine. Yeah sure, I'll do that Jake. Listen, pal. I've got a friend staying with me for a bit. . .Yeah, I suppose you could say he's THAT kind of friend. Well anyway, we're looking for Maria Juanita, do you know where she is? No Jake, I didn't hear that she had gone to OZ with Dorothy. Well if you see her, tell her we need her as soon as she can get here, like maybe even this morning. No, of course, Jake, of course we'll pay for her bus fare. Is that still a buck seventy-five? A buck eighty-five? Wow, Jake, pretty soon Juanita won't be able to afford to ride the bus, then she won't be able to come to my house any more. So you say she'll be over in about an hour? That's cool, very cool. That's what I like about you Jake. You always make sure Juanita gets here on time. Thanks Jake. Bye. Yeah, I will. Bye."

"That was Jake. He'll be over with the stuff in about an hour. Price went up though, 185."

"No problem. Pretty cute system ya got there,"

"Yeah well, it probably ain't necessary, but you know, why not?"

"Whatever works."

*** *** ***

A short time later, there was a knock at the door. Lance rose and headed for the door, stopped, realized it wasn't his house, and called out, "Neal. Someone's at the door."

"Well, answer it!"

Lance, feeling a bit uncomfortable, went to the door. "May I help you?"

"Yeah, hi, I'm Jake,"

"Oh, Jake, sure, come on in. Neal, it's Jake."

"Be right there. I'm on the can."

Lance, clad only in cut-offs, blushed from head to toe as Jake gave him the slow once over. "Is that all you," Jake asked, smirking and dropping his eyes to Lance's crotch.

Lance only blushed more deeply.

"Okay, Jake, knock it off," Neal said, emerging from the hallway.

"Geez, I'm only looking. Liking what I'm seein', too."

Neal shrugged. "Want something to drink?"

"Gotta beer?

"Sorry, no liquor here, probably never again. Coffee, diet dew, tea, water?"

"Diet Dew would be nice."

"Sit. Take a load off. That the stuff?" motioning to the rolled up paper bag Jake carried.

"That's it," setting the bag on the kitchen table."

"Jake, This is my new best friend, Lance." Jake and Lance shake hands.

"So tell me, Lance, did your mom see you naked before or after she named you?" Jake asks.

"Don't mind Jake, he's an asshole naturally."

"Not to worry," Lance says, "I have heard it all my life."

"I'll bet you have," Jake says.

"Knock it off or I'll tell him to hurt you with it," Neal says.

"Ooh, mama, it hurts soo good," Jake quips. As they have been joking around, Jake has opened the bag and is deftly rolling a good-sized joint, which he now sticks between Lance's lips. "Well, new best friend, guest of honor, 'Fire in the hole'." Jake produces a battered old Zippo emblazoned with the seal of the 1st Air Cav. And uses it to light the joint.

Lance inhales deeply, then speaks in that Mickey Mouse voice indicative of trying to maintain a toke and speak at the same time: "You were 'in country' huh?"

"Two tours, you?"

"Thank god, no. I got my discharge in '66," Lance says, " Air Force."

"Well, we all do our part." His eyelids rise in silent question.

"Heh, Heh, I love answering this question. I flew a spatula."

"Huh"

"I was a cook."

"Oh, very funny."

The smooth pot is starting to work now and eyelids are drooping a bit, irises dialating. Lance's 'monster' begins to rise and stir. Marijuana has always had this effect on him. Surreptitiously, he tries to press down on the hardening mass that threatens to peek out the leg of his cut-offs, but he gets caught.

"Got a problem there?" Neal asks.

Lance only grins stupidly. The attention, the embarrassment only makes him harder.

"Somethin' I can help you with?" Jake quips.

"I want some coffee," Lance says, ignoring them both. He rises to get coffee, bringing the bulge in his shorts to eye level for the two seated men. He turns rapidly, heading to the kitchen cabinets for a cup.

"Holy crap," Jake says loudly. He turns to Neal. "No wonder you threw me over."

"That was a long time ago, Jake," Neal says, "let's not go over this again."

"I still love you,ya know," Jake says.

"Bullshit, Jake, you never loved anyone as much as yourself and you know it."

"Too, true, pal, too true. And here I am old and alone."

"Poor you," Neal says. I'll bet you get laid every night."

"Well, not every night. Say, you, guy with the lance. You wanna get rid of this old worn out bum and come away with me?"

Lance laughs. "Well, I am flattered by so much attention, but I have unfinished business here. Thanks for the offer anyway. If I get bored, I'll now where to go."

"Damn, shot down again!" He stands and buzzes around the room once, arms outstretched, then sputters and falls to the floor. Well, since no one here seems to appreciate my exemplary sexual abilities, I guess I'll shove off. Duty calls."

"here's that money I owe you, Neal says, packing a handful of bills into Jake's fist. Jake jams the wad into his pocket without looking. He walks over to Lance. "Sincerely man, nice meeting you," he says, grabbing Lance's hand, pressing it more than shaking it. I hope you two guys, er, uh, well, I don't know what I am tryin' to say. Just good luck."

"Thanks." Lance answers. Nice meeting you too."

Jake swirls out, screen door banging behind. The little house feels suddenly hollow, empty without his exuberant presence.

"Wow," Lance says, he's like a gale force wind."

"Exactly," Neal answers. "Kinda hard to take full time every day."

Lance goes silent, feeling Neal's regret for ; love's labours lost'.

A moment later the thought comes to Lance's mind. LOVE. Can he, could he really love a man? Had he really loved Neal, back before Martha. "Oh, Martha. Why did you have to leave me?Life with you, love with you was so easy, so uncomplicated." And what about Mike? Would he have, could he have, lived with Mike, loved Mike, full time, no turning back kinda love. He resigned himself. He would never have the answers, things would never, could never, be that easy again. Old lives, old loves mattered not. The real question was. . .

"Penny for your thoughts, good buddy." Neal's voice broke through his reverie.

"You really want to know?"

"Of course I do." Neal's voice is true, gentle, knowing.

"How could he do that? How could his timing be so perfect?" Lance asked himself.

"I was thinking about love," Lance tells his friend. "I was thinking about Martha. About the past. About the future. I was thinking about you,"

"What were you thinking, my friend?"

"I was wondering if I. . .if. . Oh, Neal, Forgive me. Please forgive me. I am so sorry." Lance moves quickly across the room and throws himself in Neal's welcoming arms. " I am so stupid, so stupid."

"Ssh, ssh, it's okay, it's all right. Everything is all right now. Come on." Neal spins out of Lance's grasp like a ballroom dancer, until only their hands are touching, reaches with his other hand to grab the bag of pot and papers and matches, and draws Lance toward the bedroom. "Come he says, no talking. No thinking. Come."