First Love, Chapter 16
Chapter 16
It was worth it.
Luke was having trouble with his pants. He had tried to lift them while lying on the ground; didn’t happen. Kneeling almost worked - strength had sufficiently returned, but the pull and scrape of the denim was a problem. Finally, after pushing with his hands to a standing position, the path was clear. Though he wondered when his underwear had shrunk. And become made of burlap. He checked Reid over his shoulder, relieved that his struggles seemed to have gone unseen. That his winces had been successfully suppressed.
“We should get you checked out next week. Make sure nothing’s damaged. I am unusually large, after all.”
Shit.
Wait…next week?
We?
Luke spun to look at Reid, but all he saw was a jeans-cupped ass as Reid bent to pick up the tote bag. Luke had no better luck when Reid handed him the bag - reading Reid’s face proved impossible in the tricky light that remained.
“So how does one catch a cab out of this wilderness?”
“Huh? Oh, we can head out that way.” Luke pointed toward the northwest corner of the park, where lights twinkled through trees.
Reid nodded and stepped from stone to dirt. He turned back, holding out his hand.
Before joining Reid, Luke took one last look around them, telling himself it was only to make sure nothing had been left behind.
“Oh, Reid, is this your-” Luke bent to pick something up.
“Yes, thanks, must have fallen out.” Reid was back to Luke in seconds. Seconds too late. Luke’s hand tightened reflexively as Reid attempted to grab the object. Luke’s slack face drew closer to its glow.
Luke held it up. “When did you take this?”
Reid looked only at Luke. He shrugged. “Last night.”
Luke looked down again at his hand. At the phone in it. At the image of Luke’s sleeping face. Luke searched for thoughts and words. “But…when?” Not this morning…we woke up the same way we’d fallen asleep. Last night, last night...ah, when I woke alone in the bed. When Reid was working. When I had a sheet over me.
Reid’s face was still unreadable. Where are city lights when you need them?
Suddenly, Luke remembered Reid’s words: “You are a beauty when you sleep.” How long had he watched him? What did it mean? And for him to have made it the home image….Luke had forgotten he’d asked an actual question until Reid answered.
“After you’d fallen asleep. The first time.”
Luke tried another one. “Why?”
“I needed a replacement.”
Not an answer Luke had been expecting. His confusion was apparent even in the failing light.
“I’d deleted the others.”
“Others?”
Reid was quiet for a moment. “The first was of you on the mechanical bull. I deleted it after Noah’s surgery…I was so sure you’d get back together.”
Luke was glad he had trouble seeing Reid’s expression.
“I regretted it the moment it I did it. But I didn’t take another…didn’t want to jinx things. Until I finally thought it was safe…that day at the pond. In the hailstorm. You were plastered against me like lichen, with that besotted grin…and I was pretending to hate it. To be preoccupied with important cell phone business. You never suspected a thing.”
And then Noah called. It just keeps getting worse.
“I kept it, though. After. Knew I’d never get another. And kept it there, on the main screen. Even when I’d change phones. Hated myself, of course, my weakness…but I couldn’t let you go. Every time…I’d feel the pain. The loss. The love. It was a constant reminder never to let myself slip again. And the thing was…it was pretty much the only time I’d ever feel anything. So I kept it.”
By now Reid’s voice had emptied. Had hollowed. The phone had become a sinister presence in Luke’s hand.
“Until last night. I finally deleted it, after all those years. Just as soon as you left the ballroom. Gone. I wanted it gone. Having you in front of me again…the pain would no longer have been an abstraction. I’d seen you. I’d heard you. I’d breathed you in. It had all become too…raw. Like I was back to square one. Like you were at my door again telling me you were going to marry him.”
Reid.
“And of course Alex had seen it. It was one of the reasons he’d been able to figure out who you were. Who you’d been.” Reid’s voice was as inscrutable as his expression. “But then I got over it. Then I just wanted to fuck you.”
And you took another picture. Why? Because it was safe again? Doubtful…more likely because you thought it would be your only chance. That first time was so…bleak. Mind-blowing but bleak. No, that won’t do at all.
“Take another one.”
“Excuse me?”
“Now. Take one of me now. Awake. This thing has a flash, right?” Luke held out the phone for Reid to take. Luke felt the scrutiny even if he couldn’t exactly see it.
Reid took the phone from Luke. Silently, he lifted it and aimed. Luke didn’t smile. For once, he didn’t curse his mobile features, his ridiculously expressive eyes. He used them. Summoned all his powers of transparency and bored a hole right through the lens (or where he guessed it was). Reid would know, would feel exactly what Luke was thinking, was feeling every time he turned on his phone. Would see the words burning from Luke’s eyes.
I love you.
Reid took the picture.
Luke walked past Reid and began to descend the trail.
“Don’t you want to take one, too? I would have thought it’d be right up your sentimental alley.”
Luke didn’t turn back. “Don’t need one.”
__________________________________________________
It was easier than Luke had expected finding a taxi willing to take them to Brooklyn.
“You did not just say Brooklyn.”
Luke smiled enigmatically. “The night is young.”
They weren’t technically touching, but the gap was narrow. Their thighs brushed with each pothole. And Reid had established himself on Luke’s half of the seat.
“Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t go to Brooklyn right now.”
“And why not?”
“Don’t have my passport.”
Shoulder swat. “If you don’t behave, I happen to know of a bar on the Lower East Side with a mechanical bull.”
The cab interior heated. “Is that supposed to be some kind of threat? I’m not the one who’d suffer.”
Luke’s involuntary clench only reminded him of his discomfort. A discomfort he filthily wallowed in. His hand traveled to Reid’s upper thigh.
“So where did you say we were going? To see ‘Dumbo’? ’Cause I’m telling you right now: I’m not afraid to cry.”
Luke smiled at the image. “No, DUMBO. As in, ‘Down Under the Manhattan Brooklyn Overpass.’ More like under the Brooklyn Bridge, really. There’s a great art scene there. Amazing views. Famous food.”
Reid slanted Luke a cautious look. “And in which of those three will we be partaking?”
Luke couldn’t help but slouch in his seat slightly. “All three.”
“Really? What flavor of art?”
“You’ll see.”
“Not a fan of surprises.”
“You’ve been doing pretty well so far.”
Reid’s hand covered Luke’s. “You’ve been making it worth my while.”
“Then trust me.”
The taxi sped through a city as dark as it ever got. Reid fiddled with his phone.
“Your phone’s been awfully quiet today. I’ve never seen you go so long without getting a call or a text.”
“I turned off the sound.”
"So it's on vibrate?"
"Nope."
“Wow…really? Is that a good idea?”
“Nope.”
Luke laughed weakly. “I hope no one’s died.”
“Not yet.”
As Luke worked to calm his racing thoughts, Reid continued to work his phone.
I wonder if he’s changed the photo yet.
“OK, what the fuck is St. Ann’s Warehouse and why are you taking me there?”
Luke stopped his surreptitious straining for a glimpse at Reid’s phone. He straightened, startled. “How did you…?”
“You told the cabbie 38 Water Street.”
Luke dropped his head. Reid held his thumb over his phone threateningly.
“Their website is but a click away.”
“OK. Fine. We’re going to see a show.”
“Define ‘show.’”
Luke evaluated potential answers.
“Will we be watching the storage of goods? Loading and unloading? Meat-packing, perhaps?”
“Reid.”
“Are we going to a revival meeting? Will you be asking St. Ann to save me from my wicked ways?”
“Definitely not. Anyway, I’ve already had my religious experience for the evening.”
Their fingers interlaced on Reid’s thigh.
Luke continued in a small voice, “There may be another type of revival involved, though.”
Reid sighed. “The singing type?”
“Maybe.”
“What was on my list, Luke? I said no Broadway shows.”
“Are we anywhere near Broadway?”
Reid looked at Luke through eyes like slits. “Someone’s asking to be punished.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat?”
__________________________________________________
“This story never ends well.” Reid looked around skeptically.
Even Luke was a bit unsettled by the desolate neighborhood in which the taxi had left them. The streets were lined with monolithic warehouse- and factory-like structures.
“Um, I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Yes. I hear post-industrial wastelands inspire all the best art.”
“I guess this is it.” They approached a long, squat block of a building with blood-red lettering along the side. “I read it used to be a spice warehouse.”
“Of course you did. I don’t suppose you also read what show we’ll be seeing?”
Luke didn’t answer as they entered the building. He led Reid by the hand into the cavernous and crowded interior.
“Yup. Looks like a warehouse. Who would’ve thought I’d be missing nature already?”
Luke could tell the moment Reid saw the signs above the box office and on the wall. His unease grew in proportion to the length of Reid’s silence. He squeezed Reid’s hand.
Luke felt compelled to fill the vacuum. “I know it’s no Turandot…I mean, if I hadn’t already gotten tickets to this…but it’s kind of an opera, right? An operetta? Actually, we just missed an international toy theater festival here…apparently, there were all these tiny sets, including one for Turandot, complete with little decapitated heads on spikes…you know, belonging to all the suitors who couldn’t solve the riddles-”
Reid put an end to the babbling. “I like chess, and I’m gay. Ergo, I must like be a fan of the musical ‘Chess.’ Is that how the thinking went?”
Luke’s features scrunched as he watched Reid’s profile.
Reid slowly turned his face toward Luke. “You always could see right through me.” He treated Luke to the widest smile he’d yet seen from this version of Reid. Luke was dazzled. And relieved.
“Really? You’re not secretly groaning?”
“Luke, you’ll know when I’m groaning.”
They moved into the ticket line. Reid casually ran his fingers up and down Luke’s back.
Luke still couldn’t believe his luck. “Seriously? You’re not just trying to spare my feelings?”
The look Luke received in response was appropriately Reid-like. “Would you feel better if I told you that, while I thought Idina Menzel was an appropriate choice for the concert version, Adam Pascal was no Murray Head?”
Now it was Luke’s turn to smile broadly. He fitted himself against Reid’s side.
Reid rolled his eyes and rested his hand on Luke’s waist. “You’re so easily pleased.” In turn, Luke’s hand moved to the back of Reid’s belt. And up under the bottom of Reid’s shirt.
“Mmm, pleasing you seems to have its benefits. OK, how about this: I’m such a fan that I saw it in London years ago. After Anthony Stewart Head had taken over for his brother.”
“Wait, who?”
“You know, Giles. From that show.”
Luke straightened and placed both hands flat against Reid’s chest. “‘That show’? You mean ‘Buffy,’ don’t you? I love it! You are totally a Buffy fan.”
Reid tried to appear nonchalant. “Isn’t everyone?”
“Ha, I knew it. The minute you called Oakdale ‘Hellmouth’ back in the park. Don’t tell me…you had a thing for Angel.”
Reid’s withering look could have deforested Central Park. “Please. If I liked tall, dark, and dull I would have gone for your ex. A little brooding goes a long way.”
Luke would have cringed had he not been in such a wonderful mood. If anything, his face became brighter. “Ah, of course! Dangerous wit…extreme cockiness…hot, tight little body…”
“Don’t forget superhuman sexual prowess.”
“It all fits. You are Spike. Figures there’s no one you’d love more than yourself.”
Just as Luke was trying to think of a clever way to compare himself to Buffy, he saw the look on Reid’s face. It pinned him in place. He took a mental picture for his mind’s home screen.
Impatient noises behind them alerted Luke that they had reached the box office window. After collecting their tickets, Luke joined the slow-moving crowd funneling through the curtain to the performance area while Reid left for the men’s room after a final squeeze of Luke’s waist.
“Been here before?”
Luke turned to see a striking man with carefully casual brown hair and intense hazel eyes.
“What? No, actually.” Luke forgot himself for a moment. The man’s gaze was disconcertingly direct. He looked at Luke as if he were a piece of candy. Something suckable.
“It’s not a bad place. Always something interesting.” He held out his hand. “I’m Brian.”
Luke wasn’t sure why, but he hesitated to take it.
“I’m Dr. Reid Oliver.”
Reid eased beside Luke, slipping his hand low around Luke’s waist. Almost unthinkingly, Luke molded himself to Reid’s side. Reid’s hand disappeared into Luke’s jeans. Brian dropped his hand, smiling as if he’d just heard a dirty joke.
“Pleasure to meet you, Doctor,” he drawled. A blind barista could have recognized the naked interest in his eyes. “You two have plans after the show?”
Luke’s mouth dropped. Reid seemed unfazed. The fingers of his hidden hand played subtly.
“I’m afraid we do. It’s our last night here.”
The crowd continued to shuffle. The trio was almost to the curtain.
Brian cocked his head. “Aw, such a shame. Well,” a card appeared in his hand, “should your plans change.”
Before Luke realized what had happened, he found himself holding the card. With a last, lingering look, Brian disappeared in the crush.
Luke had yet to close his mouth. “Well. I don’t think we’re in Middle America any more.”
Reid removed his hand from Luke’s waistband and guided him up the shallow stairs along the side of the theater, his hand on the small of Luke’s back. “You’d be surprised.”
Ohh. Is that how it usually happens? Straight-forward, no-strings? Is that how it happened for Reid? In Dallas? In Boston? (In Oakdale?) Luke derailed his train of thought. It didn’t matter. The focus now was the future.
Before Luke could read what was on the card, it had been transferred to Reid’s fingers. And then was gone. Reid’s hand was warm against Luke’s back as they made their way down the row to their seats.
“You won’t be needing that tonight.”
The combination of words and sitting reminded Luke whom he belonged to. Not that he was likely to forget. And he was finally beginning to allow thoughts of mutual ownership. This man…this beautiful, desirable man. I know him so well. All the important bits. And he knows me, inside and out. Luke spread his fingers through the waves at the back of Reid’s head. He leaned into Reid’s neck and breathed him in. He felt his scent permeate his tissues. It was a balm for his intimate aches.
“We may not be in Middle America, but even Sodom probably frowns upon public fornication.” Reid’s pliant posture belied his chiding words.
“The lights will be off soon.”
“Yes, but the giant video screens might brighten the place up.” Reid’s droll tone caught Luke’s attention.
“Oh. Right. This, uh, isn’t your typical revival.”
“I gathered.”
“Yeah. Apparently this company is into experimental, multimedia stuff. You know, superimposed video and weird sounds.”
“How very cutting-edge.” Reid looked around at all the young, white faces. “Are you sure I’m not too old for such a hip, New York theater experience?”
“It’s OK, you can say you’re with me.”
Reid smiled into Luke’s eyes. “Thanks…I’ll make sure to let everyone know we’re together.”
We…next week…
Luke let the contentment in. Offered it a beverage.
He observed how well the curve of his palm fit the back of Reid’s head. “It might be a little weird, but it’s gotten great reviews. The music should be mostly intact. There just might be some, you know, avant-garde trappings.”
The lights dimmed. The avant-garde trappings consisted mostly of silver-space-suit costumes and the simultaneous projection of a 1960s sci-fi B-movie. Luke was sure it was all somehow profound. Reid looked less convinced.
The musical numbers were, however, largely unchanged. Luke had been unfamiliar with story; from what he could tell it involved cold-war tensions and a rivalry between two chess masters over winning not just matches but also the love of a woman. The music was catchy. At first he just enjoyed the ABBA-esque melodies and powerful voices. After a while lyrics began to penetrate. One of the chess masters was singing.
Don't get me wrong
I'm not complaining
Times have been good
Fast, entertaining
But what's the point
If I'm concealing
Not only love
All other feeling.
Now I'm where I want to be
and who I want to be
and doing what I always said I would
and yet I feel I haven't won at all
Luke couldn’t help but think of Reid and his successful, sterile life before Oakdale. Before Luke. Before he’d even realized there’d been anything missing. Luke stopped his thoughts from drifting to Reid’s life in Boston - after he’d learned to let love in. After he’d learned what losing love was like.
Instead, Luke spent time trying to decipher the plot of the sci-fi movie. The title had been something about vampires, but as far as Luke could tell the danger was in zombie form. Specifically, zombie chess pieces. By the time Luke’s mind returned to the music, the heroine was singing.
I love him too much,
What if he saw
My whole existence
Turning around a word,
A smile, a touch.
One of these days,
And it wont be long,
He'll know more about me
Than he should.
All my dreams will be understood,
No surprise,
Nothing more to learn
From the look in my eyes
The day that I find,
Suddenly I've run
Out of secrets,
Suddenly I'm not
Always on his mind.
Luke frowned. Huh. Not quite the upbeat romantic tale I’d been expecting. Luke ignored any twinges of disquiet. There’s no such thing as being too open….
Luke tuned out again, preferring to focus on the entertainment next to him. Luke had grown addicted to the sounds and cadence of Reid’s breathing. It was an almost extrasensory attunement - Luke didn’t have to hear Reid’s breaths to feel them. To feel minute shifts in depth and frequency. The faint whooshes of Reid’s exhalations had become Luke’s personal sound machine - they relaxed him, lulled him. Reassured him. It was at the point where Luke doubted he could fall asleep without Reid’s specific rhythms. At the moment he could both hear and feel Reid’s rise and fall. The subtle vibrations of both breath and pulse traveled along Luke’s arm where it lay next to Reid’s on the armrest between them. Luke studied where their pinkies met. He watched Reid’s chest out of the corner of his eye. He matched their breaths.
Still I love you completely and hope I always will
Each day we get through means one less mistake left for the making
Luke listened to the main couple duet. That’s more like it. He turned to Reid, catching his eye. Reid’s gaze was steady and soft. Luke rested his head on Reid’s shoulder and tried to figure out why there were Martians on the stage.
It wasn’t until later that another woman’s impassioned performance lured Luke in to attending to the lyrics again.
And though I move my world to be with him, still the gap between us is too wide…Isn’t it madness he won't be mine…Didn't I know how it would go…from the start…
Luke shut down quickly. Peeking at Reid obliquely, Luke didn’t think he saw anything worrisome. Isn’t it time for another chess tournament already? How about some more zombies?
He looked back down at their paired hands. I love his hands. His fingers. With slow strokes, Luke outlined each of Reid’s elegant, powerful fingers. Delicately, he ran down their lengths. He traced tendons, blood vessels, up to the wrist. He lingered over faint marks. He counted hairs. With a tender, nurturing touch, he massaged each nail, smoothing tops and edges. He massaged lower, entire fingers, an inch at a time. Index. Middle. Ring. At the base of the ring finger, he paused. He hadn’t even realized it at first. He just knew he couldn’t move on, couldn’t take his eyes off that particular patch of skin. Of bare skin. Of his left hand.
Eventually, Luke felt Reid’s eyes on him. Luke looked up. Reid’s gaze was steady again, but it was no longer soft. Yet it hadn’t hardened, not exactly; the gates hadn’t shut, but the sentries had been awoken from their naps, though at this point they were more curious than hostile. Luke returned the gaze, once again counting on the look in his eyes to reveal his dreams, his secrets. This time, the message was just as clear.
I’d say yes.
The gates shut. There was no slamming, no agonizing scrape of metal or shrieking of gears. Just a firm, gentle closure. A slow but deliberate withdrawal of hand. Reid turned back to the stage.
Luke turned inward. To where his insides were supposed to be.
Knowing I want you
Knowing I love you
Cannot compare
To my despair
Knowing I’ve lost you
Luke could no longer keep the lyrics from infiltrating. Dully, he noted that the main couple was duetting again. That it seemed to be nearing the end of the show if a stage littered with zombie-killed characters was any indication.
I've been a fool to allow
Dreams to become
Great expectations
Luke aimed for numb. He didn’t want there to be any more tears.
You could not give me
More than you gave me
He thought he sensed a slight tension in Reid’s body. He couldn’t decide if that would be a good thing or not. The rest of the lyrics fell in rapid succession, like hail striking the roof of a car. Striking flesh.
Though my heart is breaking
I'd give the world for that moment with you
When we thought we knew
That our love would last
But the moment passed
With no warning, far too fast
But here we are today, and it’s over
Hold me and tell me
We’ll meet again
One happy moment
All characters, dead and alive, were now on the stage. Sliver space suits glinted under colored lights. Chess pieces swayed in time. Luke waited for the uplifting resolution - for the main couple to fly off into the sunset on their spaceship.
But we go on pretending
Stories like ours
Have happy endings
The audience applauded.
Wait, that’s it? That’s the END?
Disclaimer: All lyrics in chapter 16 are by Tim Rice from the musical "Chess" (an amalgam of both the original and concert versions). "Chess" does not normally involve zombies. Or spaceships.
And several years ago there really was a tiny Turandot set at an international toy theater festival at St. Ann's Warehouse.
It was worth it.
Luke was having trouble with his pants. He had tried to lift them while lying on the ground; didn’t happen. Kneeling almost worked - strength had sufficiently returned, but the pull and scrape of the denim was a problem. Finally, after pushing with his hands to a standing position, the path was clear. Though he wondered when his underwear had shrunk. And become made of burlap. He checked Reid over his shoulder, relieved that his struggles seemed to have gone unseen. That his winces had been successfully suppressed.
“We should get you checked out next week. Make sure nothing’s damaged. I am unusually large, after all.”
Shit.
Wait…next week?
We?
Luke spun to look at Reid, but all he saw was a jeans-cupped ass as Reid bent to pick up the tote bag. Luke had no better luck when Reid handed him the bag - reading Reid’s face proved impossible in the tricky light that remained.
“So how does one catch a cab out of this wilderness?”
“Huh? Oh, we can head out that way.” Luke pointed toward the northwest corner of the park, where lights twinkled through trees.
Reid nodded and stepped from stone to dirt. He turned back, holding out his hand.
Before joining Reid, Luke took one last look around them, telling himself it was only to make sure nothing had been left behind.
“Oh, Reid, is this your-” Luke bent to pick something up.
“Yes, thanks, must have fallen out.” Reid was back to Luke in seconds. Seconds too late. Luke’s hand tightened reflexively as Reid attempted to grab the object. Luke’s slack face drew closer to its glow.
Luke held it up. “When did you take this?”
Reid looked only at Luke. He shrugged. “Last night.”
Luke looked down again at his hand. At the phone in it. At the image of Luke’s sleeping face. Luke searched for thoughts and words. “But…when?” Not this morning…we woke up the same way we’d fallen asleep. Last night, last night...ah, when I woke alone in the bed. When Reid was working. When I had a sheet over me.
Reid’s face was still unreadable. Where are city lights when you need them?
Suddenly, Luke remembered Reid’s words: “You are a beauty when you sleep.” How long had he watched him? What did it mean? And for him to have made it the home image….Luke had forgotten he’d asked an actual question until Reid answered.
“After you’d fallen asleep. The first time.”
Luke tried another one. “Why?”
“I needed a replacement.”
Not an answer Luke had been expecting. His confusion was apparent even in the failing light.
“I’d deleted the others.”
“Others?”
Reid was quiet for a moment. “The first was of you on the mechanical bull. I deleted it after Noah’s surgery…I was so sure you’d get back together.”
Luke was glad he had trouble seeing Reid’s expression.
“I regretted it the moment it I did it. But I didn’t take another…didn’t want to jinx things. Until I finally thought it was safe…that day at the pond. In the hailstorm. You were plastered against me like lichen, with that besotted grin…and I was pretending to hate it. To be preoccupied with important cell phone business. You never suspected a thing.”
And then Noah called. It just keeps getting worse.
“I kept it, though. After. Knew I’d never get another. And kept it there, on the main screen. Even when I’d change phones. Hated myself, of course, my weakness…but I couldn’t let you go. Every time…I’d feel the pain. The loss. The love. It was a constant reminder never to let myself slip again. And the thing was…it was pretty much the only time I’d ever feel anything. So I kept it.”
By now Reid’s voice had emptied. Had hollowed. The phone had become a sinister presence in Luke’s hand.
“Until last night. I finally deleted it, after all those years. Just as soon as you left the ballroom. Gone. I wanted it gone. Having you in front of me again…the pain would no longer have been an abstraction. I’d seen you. I’d heard you. I’d breathed you in. It had all become too…raw. Like I was back to square one. Like you were at my door again telling me you were going to marry him.”
Reid.
“And of course Alex had seen it. It was one of the reasons he’d been able to figure out who you were. Who you’d been.” Reid’s voice was as inscrutable as his expression. “But then I got over it. Then I just wanted to fuck you.”
And you took another picture. Why? Because it was safe again? Doubtful…more likely because you thought it would be your only chance. That first time was so…bleak. Mind-blowing but bleak. No, that won’t do at all.
“Take another one.”
“Excuse me?”
“Now. Take one of me now. Awake. This thing has a flash, right?” Luke held out the phone for Reid to take. Luke felt the scrutiny even if he couldn’t exactly see it.
Reid took the phone from Luke. Silently, he lifted it and aimed. Luke didn’t smile. For once, he didn’t curse his mobile features, his ridiculously expressive eyes. He used them. Summoned all his powers of transparency and bored a hole right through the lens (or where he guessed it was). Reid would know, would feel exactly what Luke was thinking, was feeling every time he turned on his phone. Would see the words burning from Luke’s eyes.
I love you.
Reid took the picture.
Luke walked past Reid and began to descend the trail.
“Don’t you want to take one, too? I would have thought it’d be right up your sentimental alley.”
Luke didn’t turn back. “Don’t need one.”
__________________________________________________
It was easier than Luke had expected finding a taxi willing to take them to Brooklyn.
“You did not just say Brooklyn.”
Luke smiled enigmatically. “The night is young.”
They weren’t technically touching, but the gap was narrow. Their thighs brushed with each pothole. And Reid had established himself on Luke’s half of the seat.
“Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t go to Brooklyn right now.”
“And why not?”
“Don’t have my passport.”
Shoulder swat. “If you don’t behave, I happen to know of a bar on the Lower East Side with a mechanical bull.”
The cab interior heated. “Is that supposed to be some kind of threat? I’m not the one who’d suffer.”
Luke’s involuntary clench only reminded him of his discomfort. A discomfort he filthily wallowed in. His hand traveled to Reid’s upper thigh.
“So where did you say we were going? To see ‘Dumbo’? ’Cause I’m telling you right now: I’m not afraid to cry.”
Luke smiled at the image. “No, DUMBO. As in, ‘Down Under the Manhattan Brooklyn Overpass.’ More like under the Brooklyn Bridge, really. There’s a great art scene there. Amazing views. Famous food.”
Reid slanted Luke a cautious look. “And in which of those three will we be partaking?”
Luke couldn’t help but slouch in his seat slightly. “All three.”
“Really? What flavor of art?”
“You’ll see.”
“Not a fan of surprises.”
“You’ve been doing pretty well so far.”
Reid’s hand covered Luke’s. “You’ve been making it worth my while.”
“Then trust me.”
The taxi sped through a city as dark as it ever got. Reid fiddled with his phone.
“Your phone’s been awfully quiet today. I’ve never seen you go so long without getting a call or a text.”
“I turned off the sound.”
"So it's on vibrate?"
"Nope."
“Wow…really? Is that a good idea?”
“Nope.”
Luke laughed weakly. “I hope no one’s died.”
“Not yet.”
As Luke worked to calm his racing thoughts, Reid continued to work his phone.
I wonder if he’s changed the photo yet.
“OK, what the fuck is St. Ann’s Warehouse and why are you taking me there?”
Luke stopped his surreptitious straining for a glimpse at Reid’s phone. He straightened, startled. “How did you…?”
“You told the cabbie 38 Water Street.”
Luke dropped his head. Reid held his thumb over his phone threateningly.
“Their website is but a click away.”
“OK. Fine. We’re going to see a show.”
“Define ‘show.’”
Luke evaluated potential answers.
“Will we be watching the storage of goods? Loading and unloading? Meat-packing, perhaps?”
“Reid.”
“Are we going to a revival meeting? Will you be asking St. Ann to save me from my wicked ways?”
“Definitely not. Anyway, I’ve already had my religious experience for the evening.”
Their fingers interlaced on Reid’s thigh.
Luke continued in a small voice, “There may be another type of revival involved, though.”
Reid sighed. “The singing type?”
“Maybe.”
“What was on my list, Luke? I said no Broadway shows.”
“Are we anywhere near Broadway?”
Reid looked at Luke through eyes like slits. “Someone’s asking to be punished.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat?”
__________________________________________________
“This story never ends well.” Reid looked around skeptically.
Even Luke was a bit unsettled by the desolate neighborhood in which the taxi had left them. The streets were lined with monolithic warehouse- and factory-like structures.
“Um, I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Yes. I hear post-industrial wastelands inspire all the best art.”
“I guess this is it.” They approached a long, squat block of a building with blood-red lettering along the side. “I read it used to be a spice warehouse.”
“Of course you did. I don’t suppose you also read what show we’ll be seeing?”
Luke didn’t answer as they entered the building. He led Reid by the hand into the cavernous and crowded interior.
“Yup. Looks like a warehouse. Who would’ve thought I’d be missing nature already?”
Luke could tell the moment Reid saw the signs above the box office and on the wall. His unease grew in proportion to the length of Reid’s silence. He squeezed Reid’s hand.
Luke felt compelled to fill the vacuum. “I know it’s no Turandot…I mean, if I hadn’t already gotten tickets to this…but it’s kind of an opera, right? An operetta? Actually, we just missed an international toy theater festival here…apparently, there were all these tiny sets, including one for Turandot, complete with little decapitated heads on spikes…you know, belonging to all the suitors who couldn’t solve the riddles-”
Reid put an end to the babbling. “I like chess, and I’m gay. Ergo, I must like be a fan of the musical ‘Chess.’ Is that how the thinking went?”
Luke’s features scrunched as he watched Reid’s profile.
Reid slowly turned his face toward Luke. “You always could see right through me.” He treated Luke to the widest smile he’d yet seen from this version of Reid. Luke was dazzled. And relieved.
“Really? You’re not secretly groaning?”
“Luke, you’ll know when I’m groaning.”
They moved into the ticket line. Reid casually ran his fingers up and down Luke’s back.
Luke still couldn’t believe his luck. “Seriously? You’re not just trying to spare my feelings?”
The look Luke received in response was appropriately Reid-like. “Would you feel better if I told you that, while I thought Idina Menzel was an appropriate choice for the concert version, Adam Pascal was no Murray Head?”
Now it was Luke’s turn to smile broadly. He fitted himself against Reid’s side.
Reid rolled his eyes and rested his hand on Luke’s waist. “You’re so easily pleased.” In turn, Luke’s hand moved to the back of Reid’s belt. And up under the bottom of Reid’s shirt.
“Mmm, pleasing you seems to have its benefits. OK, how about this: I’m such a fan that I saw it in London years ago. After Anthony Stewart Head had taken over for his brother.”
“Wait, who?”
“You know, Giles. From that show.”
Luke straightened and placed both hands flat against Reid’s chest. “‘That show’? You mean ‘Buffy,’ don’t you? I love it! You are totally a Buffy fan.”
Reid tried to appear nonchalant. “Isn’t everyone?”
“Ha, I knew it. The minute you called Oakdale ‘Hellmouth’ back in the park. Don’t tell me…you had a thing for Angel.”
Reid’s withering look could have deforested Central Park. “Please. If I liked tall, dark, and dull I would have gone for your ex. A little brooding goes a long way.”
Luke would have cringed had he not been in such a wonderful mood. If anything, his face became brighter. “Ah, of course! Dangerous wit…extreme cockiness…hot, tight little body…”
“Don’t forget superhuman sexual prowess.”
“It all fits. You are Spike. Figures there’s no one you’d love more than yourself.”
Just as Luke was trying to think of a clever way to compare himself to Buffy, he saw the look on Reid’s face. It pinned him in place. He took a mental picture for his mind’s home screen.
Impatient noises behind them alerted Luke that they had reached the box office window. After collecting their tickets, Luke joined the slow-moving crowd funneling through the curtain to the performance area while Reid left for the men’s room after a final squeeze of Luke’s waist.
“Been here before?”
Luke turned to see a striking man with carefully casual brown hair and intense hazel eyes.
“What? No, actually.” Luke forgot himself for a moment. The man’s gaze was disconcertingly direct. He looked at Luke as if he were a piece of candy. Something suckable.
“It’s not a bad place. Always something interesting.” He held out his hand. “I’m Brian.”
Luke wasn’t sure why, but he hesitated to take it.
“I’m Dr. Reid Oliver.”
Reid eased beside Luke, slipping his hand low around Luke’s waist. Almost unthinkingly, Luke molded himself to Reid’s side. Reid’s hand disappeared into Luke’s jeans. Brian dropped his hand, smiling as if he’d just heard a dirty joke.
“Pleasure to meet you, Doctor,” he drawled. A blind barista could have recognized the naked interest in his eyes. “You two have plans after the show?”
Luke’s mouth dropped. Reid seemed unfazed. The fingers of his hidden hand played subtly.
“I’m afraid we do. It’s our last night here.”
The crowd continued to shuffle. The trio was almost to the curtain.
Brian cocked his head. “Aw, such a shame. Well,” a card appeared in his hand, “should your plans change.”
Before Luke realized what had happened, he found himself holding the card. With a last, lingering look, Brian disappeared in the crush.
Luke had yet to close his mouth. “Well. I don’t think we’re in Middle America any more.”
Reid removed his hand from Luke’s waistband and guided him up the shallow stairs along the side of the theater, his hand on the small of Luke’s back. “You’d be surprised.”
Ohh. Is that how it usually happens? Straight-forward, no-strings? Is that how it happened for Reid? In Dallas? In Boston? (In Oakdale?) Luke derailed his train of thought. It didn’t matter. The focus now was the future.
Before Luke could read what was on the card, it had been transferred to Reid’s fingers. And then was gone. Reid’s hand was warm against Luke’s back as they made their way down the row to their seats.
“You won’t be needing that tonight.”
The combination of words and sitting reminded Luke whom he belonged to. Not that he was likely to forget. And he was finally beginning to allow thoughts of mutual ownership. This man…this beautiful, desirable man. I know him so well. All the important bits. And he knows me, inside and out. Luke spread his fingers through the waves at the back of Reid’s head. He leaned into Reid’s neck and breathed him in. He felt his scent permeate his tissues. It was a balm for his intimate aches.
“We may not be in Middle America, but even Sodom probably frowns upon public fornication.” Reid’s pliant posture belied his chiding words.
“The lights will be off soon.”
“Yes, but the giant video screens might brighten the place up.” Reid’s droll tone caught Luke’s attention.
“Oh. Right. This, uh, isn’t your typical revival.”
“I gathered.”
“Yeah. Apparently this company is into experimental, multimedia stuff. You know, superimposed video and weird sounds.”
“How very cutting-edge.” Reid looked around at all the young, white faces. “Are you sure I’m not too old for such a hip, New York theater experience?”
“It’s OK, you can say you’re with me.”
Reid smiled into Luke’s eyes. “Thanks…I’ll make sure to let everyone know we’re together.”
We…next week…
Luke let the contentment in. Offered it a beverage.
He observed how well the curve of his palm fit the back of Reid’s head. “It might be a little weird, but it’s gotten great reviews. The music should be mostly intact. There just might be some, you know, avant-garde trappings.”
The lights dimmed. The avant-garde trappings consisted mostly of silver-space-suit costumes and the simultaneous projection of a 1960s sci-fi B-movie. Luke was sure it was all somehow profound. Reid looked less convinced.
The musical numbers were, however, largely unchanged. Luke had been unfamiliar with story; from what he could tell it involved cold-war tensions and a rivalry between two chess masters over winning not just matches but also the love of a woman. The music was catchy. At first he just enjoyed the ABBA-esque melodies and powerful voices. After a while lyrics began to penetrate. One of the chess masters was singing.
Don't get me wrong
I'm not complaining
Times have been good
Fast, entertaining
But what's the point
If I'm concealing
Not only love
All other feeling.
Now I'm where I want to be
and who I want to be
and doing what I always said I would
and yet I feel I haven't won at all
Luke couldn’t help but think of Reid and his successful, sterile life before Oakdale. Before Luke. Before he’d even realized there’d been anything missing. Luke stopped his thoughts from drifting to Reid’s life in Boston - after he’d learned to let love in. After he’d learned what losing love was like.
Instead, Luke spent time trying to decipher the plot of the sci-fi movie. The title had been something about vampires, but as far as Luke could tell the danger was in zombie form. Specifically, zombie chess pieces. By the time Luke’s mind returned to the music, the heroine was singing.
I love him too much,
What if he saw
My whole existence
Turning around a word,
A smile, a touch.
One of these days,
And it wont be long,
He'll know more about me
Than he should.
All my dreams will be understood,
No surprise,
Nothing more to learn
From the look in my eyes
The day that I find,
Suddenly I've run
Out of secrets,
Suddenly I'm not
Always on his mind.
Luke frowned. Huh. Not quite the upbeat romantic tale I’d been expecting. Luke ignored any twinges of disquiet. There’s no such thing as being too open….
Luke tuned out again, preferring to focus on the entertainment next to him. Luke had grown addicted to the sounds and cadence of Reid’s breathing. It was an almost extrasensory attunement - Luke didn’t have to hear Reid’s breaths to feel them. To feel minute shifts in depth and frequency. The faint whooshes of Reid’s exhalations had become Luke’s personal sound machine - they relaxed him, lulled him. Reassured him. It was at the point where Luke doubted he could fall asleep without Reid’s specific rhythms. At the moment he could both hear and feel Reid’s rise and fall. The subtle vibrations of both breath and pulse traveled along Luke’s arm where it lay next to Reid’s on the armrest between them. Luke studied where their pinkies met. He watched Reid’s chest out of the corner of his eye. He matched their breaths.
Still I love you completely and hope I always will
Each day we get through means one less mistake left for the making
Luke listened to the main couple duet. That’s more like it. He turned to Reid, catching his eye. Reid’s gaze was steady and soft. Luke rested his head on Reid’s shoulder and tried to figure out why there were Martians on the stage.
It wasn’t until later that another woman’s impassioned performance lured Luke in to attending to the lyrics again.
And though I move my world to be with him, still the gap between us is too wide…Isn’t it madness he won't be mine…Didn't I know how it would go…from the start…
Luke shut down quickly. Peeking at Reid obliquely, Luke didn’t think he saw anything worrisome. Isn’t it time for another chess tournament already? How about some more zombies?
He looked back down at their paired hands. I love his hands. His fingers. With slow strokes, Luke outlined each of Reid’s elegant, powerful fingers. Delicately, he ran down their lengths. He traced tendons, blood vessels, up to the wrist. He lingered over faint marks. He counted hairs. With a tender, nurturing touch, he massaged each nail, smoothing tops and edges. He massaged lower, entire fingers, an inch at a time. Index. Middle. Ring. At the base of the ring finger, he paused. He hadn’t even realized it at first. He just knew he couldn’t move on, couldn’t take his eyes off that particular patch of skin. Of bare skin. Of his left hand.
Eventually, Luke felt Reid’s eyes on him. Luke looked up. Reid’s gaze was steady again, but it was no longer soft. Yet it hadn’t hardened, not exactly; the gates hadn’t shut, but the sentries had been awoken from their naps, though at this point they were more curious than hostile. Luke returned the gaze, once again counting on the look in his eyes to reveal his dreams, his secrets. This time, the message was just as clear.
I’d say yes.
The gates shut. There was no slamming, no agonizing scrape of metal or shrieking of gears. Just a firm, gentle closure. A slow but deliberate withdrawal of hand. Reid turned back to the stage.
Luke turned inward. To where his insides were supposed to be.
Knowing I want you
Knowing I love you
Cannot compare
To my despair
Knowing I’ve lost you
Luke could no longer keep the lyrics from infiltrating. Dully, he noted that the main couple was duetting again. That it seemed to be nearing the end of the show if a stage littered with zombie-killed characters was any indication.
I've been a fool to allow
Dreams to become
Great expectations
Luke aimed for numb. He didn’t want there to be any more tears.
You could not give me
More than you gave me
He thought he sensed a slight tension in Reid’s body. He couldn’t decide if that would be a good thing or not. The rest of the lyrics fell in rapid succession, like hail striking the roof of a car. Striking flesh.
Though my heart is breaking
I'd give the world for that moment with you
When we thought we knew
That our love would last
But the moment passed
With no warning, far too fast
But here we are today, and it’s over
Hold me and tell me
We’ll meet again
One happy moment
All characters, dead and alive, were now on the stage. Sliver space suits glinted under colored lights. Chess pieces swayed in time. Luke waited for the uplifting resolution - for the main couple to fly off into the sunset on their spaceship.
But we go on pretending
Stories like ours
Have happy endings
The audience applauded.
Wait, that’s it? That’s the END?
Disclaimer: All lyrics in chapter 16 are by Tim Rice from the musical "Chess" (an amalgam of both the original and concert versions). "Chess" does not normally involve zombies. Or spaceships.
And several years ago there really was a tiny Turandot set at an international toy theater festival at St. Ann's Warehouse.