Chase
The sun beatsdown on the mountain. Sully and I are at the lake house, methodically taking apart the tree that fell during a late spring storm. We’ve both popped our shirts off, and sweat is pouring down my back.
I cut the engine, drop the chainsaw, and wipe my face with a handkerchief. Sully stops too, then tosses me a bottle of water.
“Still thinking about him?” he asks.
Whenever it’s quiet, I can hear the din of high-intensity dance music that’s blaring at Cubby’s place across the lake. “A little bit,” I admit.
Truth is, I haven’t stopped thinking about Cubby since the fish fry. We made a scene out of ourselves at the lake, but I don’t even care. Fuck if I don’t just have fun with the guy.
He makes me laugh. Maybe it’s as simple as that, except I’m not sure a good sense of humor can explain the way I’m fixating on his ass.
Sully walks over, pats my arm, then sits down on the fallen trunk. “You know, if he says he’s looking for something casual, maybe you should take him up on it.”
“I’m sure it seems that easy to you.”
He leans back. “What? Because I’m gay?”
“No, because you’ve had plenty of anonymous sex.”
Sully smiles. “Yup.”
I kick my boot at the dirt. “And you know I haven’t. What if I mess up? Or start acting like an asshole, all possessive and shit? Doesn’t seem right.”
“It’s a hookup, Chase. It’s not a test of your character. It’s about having fun.”
I grunt.
Sully grunts back.
I force out the words, shy. “If I was going to do something, is there anything I should know?”
“Know?”
I wince, wishing he wouldn’t make me say it. “I’ve been with a couple of women, right, and I think I know what I’m doing.”
Sully stands, chuckling. “Shit. I never thought the day would come.”
Sully came out of the closet when we were in high school. He didn’t have the easiest time from his mom, and he had a tendency to act out and get himself in trouble on top of that. My best friend is quiet like I am, but he’s also a lot more comfortable putting himself out there and stirring things up.
He grabs my shoulder with a firm squeeze. “Good news, man. You do it the same way you would do it with a woman.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You start out by asking him what he likes and how he wants to be touched, and you take it from there.”
“Sure,” I say, doubtful. “Just that easy.”
Out by the dock, where my shaggy mutt Max is waiting in the shade, Sully turns on his machine to take apart a massive branch. Max growls, annoyed, and wanders off to find a quiet spot, while I stand behind Sully and look across the lake toward Cubby’s. There’s a flash of movement behind the glass doors, and I quickly tear my eyes away, not wanting him to think I’m spying.
When Sully cuts the chainsaw again, the music coming from the house is louder. “Huh. Look at that,” he says, his deep voice rumbling.
I turn, following his gaze, and see Cubby out on the deck. He’s wearing a colorful outfit with very short shorts, and he’s kicking his legs around as he jumps from side to side.
I realize I’m smiling, and since Cubby’s back is to us, I let myself keep watching, hypnotized by the sway of his hips. “He’s dancing.”
Sully nods. “More power to him.”
