Yet still Tyler fascinated him. His story, which Marcus wormed out of him after a night of tacos and margaritas, made his skittish behavior and hands-off attitude more understandable. Marcus had to respect a man who wouldn’t use sex to get ahead and who stood by his core values.
When he discovered Tyler had to give up his dream of pursuing a career on the stage to care for his niece, Marcus admitted he first thought Tyler a fool. New York was a jungle, and it was survival of the fittest; to take care of the weak meant to sacrifice yourself. And Marcus didn’t believe in sacrifices.
But then he heard Tyler’s story and grudgingly admired what Tyler had accomplished. Marcus wasn’t certain he’d ever be able to be as selfless. Yet these past weeks had Marcus reevaluating his priorities about how he lived his life and where his future might lead.
“You can leave it; I’ll take it out to the compacter in a little while.” Tyler rinsed out the recycling and placed it in a clear bag. “Aren’t you going to get ready to go to Sparks?”
He’d planned on it; Marcus hadn’t ever spent so much time away from the club, but he found himself missing the scene less and less; when he was at Sparks he’d caught himself on more than one occasion wondering what Tyler was doing instead of mingling with the crowd. He wondered if Tyler jerked off to thoughts of him again; God knows, Marcus had spent many a morning shower with his hand wrapped around his dick, imagining what Tyler’s mouth would feel like, taking him deep.
“Uh, I thought I’d hang out here tonight. You know Sunday is pretty slow, especially now that you’re not dancing.”
Tyler gave him a measured look. “I’m hoping to be back soon.”
“Don’t rush it. Take all the time you need.” Before Tyler moved in, the apartment had been nothing more than a shell, a place for him to hang his clothes and bring random guys. Now, when he stepped through the front door, Marcus never knew what he’d find scattered on the floor. It could be an array of stuffed animals, a jacket, hat, and mittens in frighteningly small proportions, or some pink furry things he couldn’t identify. The smell of something delicious and home-cooked often greeted him as well.
A tiny bit of him enjoyed it.
“I’m going a bit crazy not working or being able to practice or exercise. I do stretches, but it still hurts like a bitch.” Tyler placed the garbage by the door and rubbed his hands on his sweats.
“What did the doctor say?”
“I go back next week for the check-up. Want a beer?” He returned to the refrigerator at Marcus’s nod and took out two cold bottles and handed him one. Marcus took it and went into the living room to relax on the sofa.
“Thanks. So, yeah, I’m staying home since I can do some work on year-end stuff. Get things ready for the accountant, and go through the promotions I want to do for next year.”
Tyler settled on the sofa next to him. “Do you do a lot of promotions?”
“Yeah. I do a big Pride event and a few to help the LGBTQ youth organizations here in the city. I’ve added one to help burn victims, and we sponsor other FDNY and NYPD charities, especially now around the holidays.” Marcus noticed the surprise on Tyler’s face. “What?” He took a sip of beer.
“I didn’t realize you were so charitable.” Then, as if understanding what he’d said, Tyler blushed a deep red and stuttered. “Oh shit, that didn’t come out right. I meant I never knew you did so much to help—”
Marcus cut him off. “Maybe you should quit while you’re ahead. That doesn’t sound as if it’s going to be much better.” He reached over and patted Tyler’s knee. “For the record, I know what you meant. And yes, I do a lot of charitable events. It’s one of the few ways to give back to the community.”
“I think that’s great. I hope you’ll let me participate in some way when the time comes.” Tyler seemed to have forgotten his embarrassment and instead grew pensive. “I’d always hoped that by this time in my life I’d be settled enough to be able to do charity work, instead of being a charity case myself.”
There was a weary kind of innocence about Tyler that spoke of lost dreams and fragile hopes; but always underneath the surface, his immutable pride shone through. That quality made him irresistible to Marcus, and he wanted to know more.
“What happened really? Couldn’t you keep up the dancing even after your sister came to live with you?”
Perhaps his question was too personal, but Tyler had gotten under his skin, and where normally Marcus didn’t care enough about his employees’ personal lives to question them, Tyler was no longer an ordinary employee to him.
“For a while.” Tyler rubbed the back of his neck and stretched. “I needed the extra money once they came, and the only job I could get that would accommodate my crazy hours was waiting tables. Then I auditioned for a big show I thought I had a great shot at; finally a director was impressed with my merits as a dancer, not with giving him sex.”
“And?” Marcus didn’t understand. “You didn’t get it after all?”
“No, I did, as a matter of fact. But that was right before Amber disappeared, leaving Lillie with me.” That haunted, desolate expression Marcus remembered all too well entered Tyler’s eyes. “Once I had responsibility for her, I couldn’t be in the show, you know? It would require travel, which I couldn’t do, and ultimately the pay would have been less than I was making waiting tables.” He blinked, returning back to the present. “So I turned it down, and when I saw your ad for dancers and found out how much I could make, I figured I’d try it for a while, make some money to bank, and then hopefully find Amber and start over again.”
His heart went out to Tyler. To have come so close to accomplishing your dream only to have it snatched away from you must have been devastating.
“I have every faith you will. Think of this as a momentary blip in your road, Ty. One that occurred through no fault of your own.”
Tyler set the beer bottle down and hugged his legs to his chest, hissing slightly at the obvious discomfort from his injured ribs.
“I wish I had your confidence, but I’m more of a pessimist, a glass-half-empty kind of guy. And so far, I’ve yet to see a reason to change my mind.”
Who could blame the guy? Marcus didn’t subscribe to his negative outlook, but then again, he hadn’t faced adversity like Tyler had. Material things had never been his problem; he’d had more than enough shit thrown at him to keep him busy and out from underfoot his entire life. But not once had he ever been the recipient of the love and attention Tyler showed his niece.
Staring at Tyler now, watching him pick at the threads of his worn sweatshirt, sympathy he was unaccustomed to feeling rolled through Marcus, making him a bit antsy and, for the first time, unsure of himself. His usual modus operandi was to throw money at a problem and make it go away. Tyler’s pride made that an impossible fix, so Marcus had done the next best thing: offered up a luxury Tyler couldn’t afford, and made it about the child, and therefore impossible to turn down.
