Chapter 7 (part 2)

He fidgeted, resuming his usual posture. Down slipped the chestnut veil. No, don't hide from me, not now, babe. Your eyes are so damn beautiful!

"I guess you don't know," he muttered. "I probably sound like an idiot. Anyway, I still love theater, so that's why I chose stage management."

"You don't sound like an idiot, Daniel. You know best where you feel comfortable. I just think it's everybody else's loss not to get to see what you're capable of as a performer."

He ducked his head in embarrassment. Boy really needs to learn how to take a compliment. It still just made him more adorable in my eyes. If that were possible.

"Anyway," he continued, "I got this job a few years out of school and it's been great. They do good work, it's pretty steady pay, and I've learned a lot from Mark. They even have a summer program, so I don't have to work retail or wait tables when the season's over."

I remembered those days. Back before my lucky break. Before Timothy happened. It had been miserable. But I had also felt freer then than I had in all the years since, during that brief period of endless possibility before the momentum of my choices started hemming me in. Christ, I'm getting maudlin.

I cleared my throat. "Daniel," I husked, "what do you like to do outside the theater? Any hobbies? Favorite hangouts? Do you have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend?" Please please please say no. I did have to congratulate myself on the way I'd played that, though—the hasty addition of "boyfriend" as if it were an afterthought to demonstrate my own open-mindedness, rather than the one piece of information I needed above all. It gave us both an out if he was attached, or worse, straight. No, don't do it, Daniel, don't hide behind the hair, don't... damn it.

"Um, no, no boyfriend, not for a while now," he answered. The answer I had been hoping for. Both gay and single. Heavenly choruses went off in my head. "I mostly hang out with Kelly when I'm not working."

"The house manager? The redhead? She seems like a lot of fun. I saw her at rehearsal a while back, but we haven't had a chance to talk since I first met you guys. What do you two like to do?"

He screwed up his face. "Promise you won't laugh?"

"Cross my heart."

"We're karaoke freaks. We go out at least once a month and sing."

"Really?"

"'Fraid so. Lame, I know."

"No, not at all," I hastily assured him. "In fact, that's something I've never tried. I'd love to join you two some time."

He gave me one of his uncertain sideways looks. "Seriously?"

It was now or never. If I didn't say something now I might just burst.

"Honestly, Daniel, I can't think of anything I'd like better than spending time with you." There, I'd made a declaration of my intent, if he cared to look for one. Did you really, Jeff? Really?

He froze for a moment. "I'll have to remember to let you know next time we're planning on going. If I'd known you could have joined us on Halloween." There was an awkward pause. He cleared his throat. "Hey, it's getting late. I'd better head home. Thanks for the drink. And the talk. It's been nice. What do I owe you?"

No, please don't freeze me out, not now. "My treat. I already told you. Wait up, I'll walk you to your car."

"I walked. I don't live far from here."

"Then let me walk you to your door."

"It's really not necessary."

"My pleasure, Daniel."

The barista winked at me as I escorted Daniel to the door. Christ, if my interest was that transparent to her, why couldn't he take the hint? Maybe because you still haven't manned up and asked him out, Jeff. Shut up, I silently responded to my nagging subconscious. Chickenshit, it smugly replied.

It was a cold night: we huddled into our coats as we walked back toward the theater. As we neared the theater parking lot, I thought of something. "Hey, wait a sec. You're shivering. I've got a scarf in my car. Let me get it for you."

He kept heading down the street.

"No need. Why don't you just head out, it's cold, you don't need to see me home."

I panicked. "Daniel, wait, please don't go," I said, grabbing him by the shoulder. He whirled to face me, startled, and our eyes locked. I hadn't touched him since our collision backstage on Halloween. The effect this time was even more electric. I couldn't let go of him, didn't want to. His lips were slightly parted, as if to say something, but nothing came out. I bent my head and kissed them softly.

He moaned as I withdrew. Or maybe I did. Either way, when our eyes met again, there was suddenly an understanding between us. By some miracle or blessing, we both wanted this. I slid my other arm around his waist and kissed him again, more deeply this time. He responded enthusiastically, his own arms sliding up my back to rest on my shoulders. My hand moved from his shoulder and tangled in the silky hair at the back of his neck.

He tasted like coffee and peppermint and chocolate, like Christmas. I devoured his mouth, and he responded in kind. Our tongues danced and dueled as we explored one another, the kiss growing more intense and passionate. My knees were getting weak with need.

Our erections were pressed against each other through our pants. I pulled back, panting, and pressed my mouth to his ear.

"Please come home with me tonight," I whispered. And held my breath, hoping, fearing.

He pulled back just far enough to look me in the eye. That secretive smile of his was back, teasing me, daring me to kiss him again.

"Okay," he whispered back.

I nearly came in my pants right then and there.