Christopher & Craig
Part 93: Strange
Saturday afternoon the phone rang. It was Mike.
“Christopher, you got a minute?”
“Sure,” I said, sliding onto a chair at the kitchen table. “What’s up?”
“I have good news and bad news.”
“What’s the good news?”
“My video hits stores on Tuesday.”
“That IS good news! We’ll have to celebrate! Congrats to the news star.”
“Thanks,” Mike said quietly. I’d have bet he looked red and flustered.
“What’s the bad news?”
“Um, Nick’s friend Marty is missing.”
“Missing?”
“Yeah. He never got home for Thanksgiving.”
“Well, it’s a shame,” I said, trying to decipher how this bad news affected me. No matter how I looked at it, it didn’t.
“Nobody’s seen him since Wednesday. They can’t find him. I guess his mom is real worried. Nick’s a little freaked, too. I was wondering if you knew anybody who could help—like police or something. I mean, you always help me. The police think a college guy disappearing for a few days is normal.”
I frowned. The only cop I had a connection to was now a Leatherman. I understood where the police were coming from—when I was in college guys would disappear for lost weekends all the time. They always showed up either hungover or tattooed or married. Sometimes all three.
“Does Nick have any idea where Marty could be?”
“No. But even he says Marty wouldn’t go off on his own without telling anybody.”
Yet Marty didn’t know Nick was gay. Something was strange here. “Maybe I could talk to Nick about it. Can you set that up?”
“Sure. I’ll call you back later.”
“’Bye.” I set the cordless down on the table and stared at it. There seemed to be an inordinate amount of strangeness about Nick’s life.
I could hear Wade come bouncing down the stairs. Moments later he wandered into the kitchen.
“Hey, Chris. You busy?”
I smiled. “Never too busy for you. What’s up?”
Wade pulled out the chair beside me and sat. “It’s Andrew.” He was chewing on his lip.
“Oh? What’s up with Andrew?”
“Well... I’m a little worried. He’s been acting a little, well, strange.”
“Strange? How?”
Wade heaved a sigh. “That’s just it. It’s kind of hard to explain. I mean, I never really know how he’s going to act.”
“He isn’t treating you badly, is he?”
“No. No, he treats me really well. He just... Okay, here’s an example. Like last week he got that really short haircut and was wearing all this camouflage stuff and acting like some refugee from the army/navy store. And then last night he gets here wearing a cowboy hat and jeans so tight you could see the outline of his...” He stopped. “They were tight.”
I chuckled.
“I don’t know what to do about him. I like him, I really do, Chris. I mean, I could fall into those dimples when he smiles at me.”
“Have you two...?” I let the question trail off. How exactly was I supposed to ask Wade if he’d been intimate with Andrew? Technically he was far from a virgin, having been raped in an alley and worked as a hustler, not to mention his time with Donald. That son of a bitch. I wondered what he was doing now. Nursing a broken bone?
Wade’s eyes grew wide. He shook his head. “I’ve never,” he mumbled.
Therein lie a problem: Wade had no memory of his past sexual encounters. And this time around he was acting responsibly and only giving his body when his heart was in it.
I tried to catch his eye and smile at him reassuringly.
“Wade, when you decide to become...intimate with someone, whether it’s Andrew or whoever, you can talk to me if you want to.”
Wade shifted uncomfortably in the chair.
I reached out and placed my hand on his forearm. “Wade, sex is a part of life. If you’re lucky, a very good part.” I winked at him.
He grinned.
“You’re not naïve. You know that Craig and I have a relationship. And I know that two young, healthy guys like you and Andrew are bound to consider sex at some point. All I’m saying is that if you have any concerns I’m here for you.”
“Thanks, Chris. But I don’t know about Andrew. After last night I don’t know if I want to keep seeing him.”
I lowered my eyebrows. “What happened last night?”
“After Andrew picked me up he took me to this country western bar.” Wade rolled his eyes. “I mean, do I look like I would feel at home in a country western bar? Especially with my BOYfriend?”
I gave a little shrug. See what a little hypno can do? Andrew was becoming a good ole boy.
“So anyway, Andrew’s been drinking a lot this week. I don’t know what that’s about. But he went and got another beer for himself and a soda for me, and this guy wearing a stetson bumped into his arm. And Andrew’s beer spilled. It didn’t get on me, but he made a big deal about it and he starts a fight—”
“Andrew started a bar fight?” I wondered if I looked as surprised as I felt.
“Yeah. The cowboy said something about me being Andrew’s boyfriend. I mean, we’re in a straight bar and it wasn’t a big deal. But then Andrew gets all puffed up and asks the guy to take it outside.”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t know what to do! Luckily the guy’s girlfriend jumped in and so I did, too. It kind of blew over.”
Okay. Crisis averted. I let out a low whistle. “Do you want me to call him?”
“Would you? I know you guys are friends and I don’t want to screw that up so if you want to stay out of it I totally get that. He acted like I was crazy when I tried to talk about it on the ride home.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Chris.” Wade jumped up and jogged out of the room.
The doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” Wade yelled. A moment later: “Chris!”
I walked down the hall to the foyer. Leatherman was standing with Wade.
“Christopher, I took a chance you’d have some free time this afternoon. I have a proposition for you.”
I glanced from Wade to Leatherman and back. “I don’t think I want to be propositioned by you.”
Leatherman laughed heartily. “Seriously, I think you should hear this.”
Wade raised his eyebrows. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” He turned and took the steps two at a time.
Leatherman strode into the den. “Let’s sit.”
I followed him reluctantly. “What brings you here?”
He sat on the couch and leaned forward conspiratorially. “I’ve been thinking about what you’ve done for me with Bootboy.”
He couldn’t possibly be thinking about what I was thinking about as I sat in my chair looking at a leather-clad Mitch Devlin.
“I was wondering how you would feel about taking on a few new boys. I had this idea about making all of my serving boys at the Club a bit more eager to please, if you catch my drift.”
I didn’t reply.
“You know, Christopher, you could reinforce their desires to serve and please, and make them willing to work on their bodies to make themselves more beautiful to work at the Club. And, of course, they’d want to work for me for nothing.”
This was without a doubt the lowest thing I’d heard from Leatherman yet. Scratch that, from the new Leatherman. Was it possible that this one was even worse than the last? Strange, I’d figured Mitch to be the lesser of two evils.
“You know what I’m saying?”
“Oh, I think I’ve got it.”
Leatherman leaned back on the couch with a satisfied smile. “I knew you’d like my idea.”
I had two options for handling this. The first was my instinct: to smack him in the head, tell him he was an idiot, and throw him out of the house. I chose the second.
“Tell you what. You keep this between the two of us and I’ll give it some thought and get back to you. Sound good?” I got to my feet. The diplomatic approach was bound to get rid of him faster.
He looked up at me and gave a facial shrug. “But don’t take too long. I’d like to get them trained by Christmas.”
I sighed. The image of studs in Santa hats mindlessly waiting tables at the Club flashed through my mind.
Leatherman stood and strode to the front door.
I let him out. “I’ll be in touch.”
To be continued in Part 94...
Christopher & Craig
Part 94: Biker Chic.
After I’d gotten rid of Leatherman I picked up the extension on my desk and dialed Andrew’s cell.
He answered the fourth ring.
“Andrew?”
“Hi, Christopher. I can’t really talk. I’m at work.”
“Good. Shine your shoes. Stay on the phone. Can you hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Buy a new pair of shoes today and stop by here after work. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“1...2...3. Talk to you later.”
“’Bye.”
Several hours later, Wade had left for work, Craig was still out and about, and I was leafing through a magazine promising to show the Chic Looks For Spring! Honestly, since it was November I was a bit more concerned with winter clothes. Not that I’m really a clotheshorse. Well, okay, so the gold lame jacket hanging in my closet was possibly over-the-top, but I’m no slave to fashion.
Finally the doorbell rang. It was Andrew, still dressed from the shoe store, a shoebox under his arm.
“I’m glad to see you, Andrew. Come in.”
We sat in the den and I offered him a drink which he declined. His gaze fell on the magazine I was reading.
“Anything interesting?” he asked.
“Nothing I’d call chic.”
He laughed.
“Andrew, Wade told me about last night. I was wondering what your take on it was.”
“What about last night?”
“You went out with Wade...”
He nodded. “It was fun.”
I glanced at his feet. He was wearing black wingtips. Of course! He hadn’t gone home from work and was still in shoe store mode. Cowboy Andrew hadn’t emerged!
“Shine your shoes.”
Andrew’s head cocked to the side as he slipped under.
“Andrew, take off your wingtips.”
As he bent over to untie his shoes I opened the box he’d brought. Size eleven black motorcycle boots with big silver buckles. This wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind to tone down the cowboy in him. Then again, it would present a new side of him. Hadn’t I decided that I needed to find a way to help him and justify hypnotizing him?
I set the boots beside his feet. His black socks had a white stripe up the sides. I settled back in my chair.
“Andrew, you are now wearing your cowboy boots. Do you understand?”
“Yessir.”
“What happened last night at the bar?”
“This guy was mouthin’ off about Wade ‘n’ me being there. He made me spill my beer.”
I swear Andrew had picked up a slight drawl. “So what did you do?”
“I told him if he wanted to take it outside I was ready for him.”
“You challenged him to a fight?”
“Yessir.”
It was one word the way he said it now. “Andrew, what made you think this would be a good idea?”
“That’s what always happens. Some guy mouths off in a bar and you have to take ‘em outside and teach ‘em a lesson.”
I would’ve smacked my own forehead, but there would be no one there to appreciate the gesture. See, I knew I should’ve been more careful about what videos he rented and studied for role models. “Andrew, being more assertive, in your case, isn’t necessarily bad. Being a bit more aggressive even, isn’t really a big deal. But picking fights in bars? You’ve gone too far. It’s time for Cowboy Andrew to fade back into the ether. You will pack your cowboy boots away tonight for the last time for awhile.”
It was time for the cowboy to take a dirtnap. I frowned. How best to proceed? “Andrew, you have now taken off your cowboy boots. You are not wearing shoes. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. It is now time for you to select a new pair of shoes to wear. What type did you buy today?”
“Biker boots.”
Biker boots. Terrific. Just what I needed. A future Hell’s Angel on my couch. Actually, maybe that was just what I needed. I’d never been with a biker...
What was I thinking? I’m in a committed relationship.
“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle, Andrew?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Really? When?”
“I have one.”
“You do?” My voice cracked in surprise. I hate when that happens.
“It’s a sport bike. I go riding on the weekends. It’s fun. I want to ask Wade to go with me, but I’m not sure he would.”
I was trying to picture Wade on the back of Andrew’s motorcycle. Somehow the mental image struck me funny. I just kept seeing Andrew in his wingtips and a helmet. I shook my head.
On a more serious note, how safe would it be for Wade on the back of a motorcycle? If anything happened to him I didn’t know what I’d do. Then again, Wade had lost several years of his life. If this was an experience he wanted, who was I to stand in his way?
“Ask Wade. If he says no, drop it. If he says yes, you can spend some quality time on the bike with him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But if you take him out, you’d better be careful.”
“Yes, sir.”
I sighed. “Okay, time for you to ride off, Andrew. Once you put your feet in your new biker boots the part of you that’s always wanted to be a biker will emerge. It appears this unexpected side of you exists already. The part of you that wants to feel the wind in his hair as he speeds along on his hog, dressed in leather, being macho will surface. Put on the boots.”
Andrew stepped into the biker boots. He had to maneuver into them. The black leather and shiny buckles looked absurd with his slacks, dress shirt, and tie.
One thing was bothering me. Wade.
“Andrew, no matter what you will still treat Wade with respect and be your usual sweet self to him. No more barroom brawls. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now be the best biker you can be. 1...2...3.”
Andrew opened his eyes. I handed him the shoebox containing his wingtips.
“I should get going,” he said.
“Ride like the wind.” I grinned.