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Tim squints through the dim haze of smoke and neon lights.
The floor adheres to the soles of his shoes as he ambles past a row of booths.
Blaring rock music drowns out nearby conversations.
But people don’t need words to communicate.
He gets a couple of interested glances.
Covert. Furtive.
Usually, he doesn’t pick up guys at seedy dive bars.
But tonight, he’s looking for someone in particular.
Apart from the rowdy drinking games of the cameramen, Dale Jennings sits at the end of the bar.
Tim leans in close.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“This isn’t really my scene.”
Tim takes a pull of his beer. “Mine, either. Can’t stand this music.”
They watch Ross strip his shirt and chug a beer to raucous cheering.
Dale drains his own beer with a look of distaste.
“You wanna get outta here?”
Tim’s heart flips over in his chest.
With an effort, he exudes cool casual confidence.
“Where were you thinking?”
“Back to mine? For a nightcap?”
The beer bottle slips in his sweaty hands.
“Yeah, okay.”
He cures his dry mouth by downing the bottle, then follows Dale out of the bar.
By god.
If he’s not sorely mistaken, Ross is going to owe him twenty bucks tomorrow.
On the cab ride, the driver eyes Dale through the mirror.
Tim’s worried the guy is going to say something. Spoil the mood.
“Aren’t you on News at Six?”
Tim exhales.
As the cabbie praises him, Dale looks happy for the first time all week.
“That’s very kind of you.”
At a red light, he turns in his seat to get a better look at Tim.
“You a reporter, too?”
“No, they keep me behind the camera.”
The driver turns back around as traffic starts up again.
“Handsome fellah like yourself? What a waste!”
At his apartment, Dale putters around self-consciously.
He appears to have left his uncharacteristic confidence back at the bar.
“I know I said a nightcap, but. I don’t have anything for cocktails.”
It’s cute, watching him pour boxed wine into two glasses.
Dale smiles as he passes one to him.
“How did you know you wanted to be on that side of the camera?”
“When I watched films, I wanted to know about the work that went behind it. Lucky for me, I had a school with an AV club.” He takes a sip. “Lucky again, I’d rather observe than be the subject. Not many opportunities for men who look like me.”
Dale frowns.
“The driver was right. You are handsome.”
Tim laughs.
“Aw, thanks. So you oppose racial discrimination, but. Only when it’s against handsome people?”
Dale’s mouth falls open. He covers his mouth. “I—I thought you meant—”
Tim laughs harder, puts a hand on his shoulder.
“I—I’ve had too much to drink! I wasn’t thinking!”
“Dale.” He squeezes his shoulder and leans in close. “As a handsome man of color, thank you for defending the most important rights of all. The right to have my beautiful face on telly.”
Dale is pink. “You know what I thought you meant. Of course I understand that—”
Tim won’t let him get a word in edgewise. “Maybe in the future, we can work you up to supporting the broader human rights of all people of color. But for now—” He clinked glasses with him. “You’ve got my back, mate. And that’s what matters. Cheers.”
Dale abandons his glass and gets up from the sofa.
“I’m switching to water.”
Tim laughs and follows him into the kitchen.
“What’d you film for AV club?
“Got my start producing the school news.”
“And you never thought about being on the desk?
“Nah, mate.”
Dale’s gaze lingers on him. “I can’t imagine you in a suit.”
Tim grins. “Don’t own one, to be honest.” He drains his glass. “Always wanted to live my life in such a way that no one’d ever expect me to wear a suit.”
Dale lets out one of his booming laughs.
A sly smile hovers at Tim’s lips. “So don’t go feeling obligated to send me an invite to your splashy wedding with Helen, all right?”
The smile falls off Dale’s face. “I think that’s a bit premature.”
“Clearly we don’t read the same gossip magazines.”
“Tim?” His face is stern. “I went out tonight because I don’t want to think about Helen.”
Tim clucks his tongue. “Trouble in paradise?”
Dale sets his jaw and steps forward. “You can help me get my mind off her, or you can leave.”
Tim leans forward and kisses him.
******
Dale is baffled.
His mouth hangs slack against Tim’s gentle kiss.
How did this happen?
He just wanted someplace quiet to have a drink and talk.
Just wanted some company so he wouldn’t spiral about his communication problems with Helen. If their relationship is going through a rough patch or if it’s over as soon as it started.
But.
If this is how Tim wants to keep his mind off Helen…
Dale leans forward, returning the kiss.
He runs a hand through Tim’s curls.
When he feels him moan into his mouth, something snaps inside him.
He cups the back of his head, changing the angle. Turning the kiss aggressive and deep.
Tim matches his intensity.
It feels like a competition.
And Dale’s determined to win.
He stands up, pulling Tim close.
They stumble down the hallway: kissing, sucking, biting.
Pawing at each other. Bouncing off the walls.
Made clumsy by desire, more so than beer and wine.
Still, Dale’s coordinated enough to take off Tim’s belt one-handed.
He reaches behind him for the door handle, crowding him into the bedroom.
The edge of the bed juts out, striking them below the knees.
Tangled together, they fall.
Dale wakes up in an empty bed.
Stretches out to touch the empty space beside him.
He inhales sharply.
Reaches below the covers.
Trousers still on. Still zipped.
Relief washes over him.
Then the events of last night flash back to him.
Playing grab-ass. Grinding fully clothed.
Rolling around all over the bed.
At one point, Tim had tried to unzip him.
Dale had grabbed his wrist and wrenched his hand away.
For a frozen moment, they’d made eye contact. Both equally unsure if Dale was going to throw Tim out of bed. Throw him out of his apartment.
Instead, Dale flipped him over, pining his wrist to the mattress and crowding his tongue into his mouth while frantically bucking his hips.
Like a teenager.
In the bathroom, it’s an effort to pry off his clammy, sticky pants.
Under the comforting spray of the shower, he wonders why Tim left.
Did I go too far?
Did I not go far enough?
After shaving, he splashes cold water on his face.
Prepares to act like nothing happened, the next time he sees Tim at work.
Practices a polite smile in the mirror.
His filthy clothes from last night lie puddled on the bathroom floor. He can’t face them now.
Fresh clothes will help him feel steadier.
He just needs breakfast. Then everything won’t seem so dire.
On his way to the kitchen, he stops at the threshold.
Tim is there, putting the kettle on.
Dale stands still, watching him.
Stubble shadows his face.
Dale feels torn.
He wants to lean against the counter in the still-steamy bathroom and watch Tim shave, using his razor without asking permission.
At the same time, he urgently needs to rub his face against that stubble.
They could do both.
Not in that order, of course.
Dale snaps out of his fantasy when Tim smiles at him.
His eyes are tired.
Dale tries not to dwell on why.
“Thanks, I’ll, uh. Get the paper.”
Outside, he takes a full breath for the first time since—he can’t remember when.
The air is clean and bright, and filled with birdsong.
He floats across the springy, fragrant grass.
When he returns to the kitchen, Tim is still there.
In his undershirt and the same jeans from last night.
Something wrenches in Dale’s gut, seeing him pour hot water into two mugs.
It’s so domestic.
Cozy.
It had never crossed Dale’s mind that two men could have this kind of peace and quiet together.
An ordinary morning between two people who’d spent the night together.
And it was no one’s business but their own.
There’s a knock at the door.
Dale knocks over his mug.
He scrambles to blot the mess with a tea towel.
His hands are shaking.
Tim sips his tea, watching him carefully.
“Were you expecting someone?”
“Is it Saturday?” Dale’s voice is weak, wobbly.
Tim helpfully taps the top corner of the paper.
Dale clutches his hair, curling in on himself.
“My mum always comes over to help around the house. Every week.”
He looks at Tim with trepidation.
“Will you put on a shirt over that mesh top? Your nipples are showing.”
Tim puts down his tea.
Primly, he covers his areolas with his fingertips and exits the kitchen.
Dale exhales and opens the door.
Mum is in the kitchen, stocking the fridge.
Dale leans against the entryway, a bundle of nerves.
“If you just show me how to do the washing, you won’t have to spend all day helping me.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, darling, I’m happy to do it.”
“We can, we can go out for a coffee, or—”
Mum freezes up.
Dale glances behind him in resignation.
“Mum, this is Tim. Ahern. From camera.”
“Oh. H-hello.”
Dale watches her take him in. Wonders what she sees.
What Dale notices is—
The flashy pinky ring.
The collared shirt, open at the throat, exposing the mesh top beneath.
Those perfectly broken-in jeans, belted to reveal a trim waist. Shirt tucked in to showcase everything below the belt.
He wonders how he ever missed it before.
Must’ve been easier to overlook, back when he could still pretend that Tim was just some bloke who only wanted friendship.
Mum’s face is in its default expression.
Worry.
Dale rushes to explain. “We went out with the cameramen last night, but—”
“Their drinks nights can get a bit rowdy. Not really Dale’s scene.”
Tim is completely unruffled. Like he has nothing to hide, and nothing to prove.
Mum relaxes a trifle. “Oh, well Dale was always so well-behaved. His teacher said so in his kindergarten reports especially—”
Tim’s eyes light up.
“Well, Tim and I had some work things to discuss anyway, so we came back here. Um, whenever I go out in the field, it’s always with Tim’s crew.”
“Oh, how wonderful!”
“And by the time we were done with work, it was already so late, and we’d had a few more here.”
“He wouldn’t hear of me calling a taxi in the middle of the night. Perfect gentleman.”
Mum beams.
Behind his back, Dale digs his nails into his wrist.
“He made me dinner as well. But I’m beginning to understand I should be directing my complements to you.”
Mum was all of a flutter.
A teasing look gleamed in Tim’s eyes. “And here I was so impressed with Dale for having chicken loaf in the fridge.”
Dale bites his tongue.
Mum flutters her hands. “Oh, well it was nothing fancy at all.”
“Oh, I loved it. Never had chicken loaf before.”
She clasps her hands. “No!”
“Have you ever thought of making a curry chicken loaf?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t know where to start!”
“I’ll make a deal with you, Mrs. Jennings.”
“Oh, Val, please!”
“All right then, Val. You show me how to do the chicken loaf, I’ll show you how to do the curry.”
“Well I don’t know what to say!”
“Why don’t we leave Dale here to mind the washing, and we’ll go out to the shops together. Come on!”
As Mum steps into the hall bath to freshen up, Dale drags Tim down the hallway.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you a chance to wash your sticky drawers without your mum looking over your shoulder.”
Dale doesn’t have a response to that.
“Anyway, your mum is lovely. And I wanna hear about these kindergarten report cards.”
Dale stands frozen in the foyer as Mum walks past and kisses him on the cheek.
As they exit the apartment, Tim gallantly offers his arm.
When the door shuts behind them, Dale bolts to the bedroom and strips the sheets.
They come back with groceries and a bouquet of flowers.
Tiger lilies.
Mum goes through the cabinets for a vase.
Dale sits at the table watching.
He didn’t know he owned a vase.
Tim cuts each of the stems at an angle and hands them to her to arrange.
Mum teaches him the trick of dropping a penny in the vase to make them last longer.
As they arrange the bouquet, one of the stems breaks in half.
Tim plucks it from the counter and carelessly tucks it behind one ear.
Dale wants to shove him.
He wants to knock the flower out of his hair.
He’s too beautiful.
He’s too obvious.
He wants to kiss him.
He wants to press him down to the bed and make love to him while that flower’s still in his hair.
He needs to.
He can’t think of anything else.
Dale mechanically eats lunch while Mum and Tim’s curry chicken loaf bakes.
The broken flower sits in a bud vase on the windowsill.
Dale stares at it as Mum chatters to Tim about his childhood.
He can hardly taste the food.
Late in the afternoon, Mum finally tries to make herself scarce.
Tim encourages her to stay.
Mum wrings her hands. “Well, as long as I’m not keeping you boys from anything else.”
For the first time in a few hours, she shoots a worried look at her son.
“Dale, did you have any big Saturday date night plans?”
He shakes his head.
She clutches a dishcloth.
“You are still seeing Helen, aren’t you?”
He rubs his forehead. “I—think so?”
Mum stops breathing.
“It’s just been stressful with work lately.”
Mum looks on the edge of tears.
Tim’s voice cut through, sympathetic and matter-of-fact. “Helen thought she’d secured Lindy Chamberlain’s first interview, when we were up in Darwin.”
“Oh, of course. That poor woman. I can’t imagine losing a child. And then for everyone to think you had done it—”
She flaps her hands, overcome.
Tim glances over. “Dale, is there anything left in that box of wine?”
“I’ll open a new one.”
Mum seems steadier with a glass in her hands. “Well, she’ll be fine even without that big scoop. I mean, Helen Norville, is such a star.
Dale forces a smile he doesn’t feel. “We’ll be back to normal soon, I’m sure.”
Tim raises a glass. “To normalcy.”
Mum tries on a tremulous smile and clinks glasses with him.
Dale just drinks.
A bit of color returns to Mum’s cheeks.
“And what about you, Tim? We’re not keeping you from some lovely young woman?”
He smiles wryly. “As much as my mother would love that, no.”
“Aw, what a shame.”
He swirls the wine in his glass. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t have much to offer a woman, romantically.”
“Well that is simply not true.”
“Mum. Tim dates men, not women.”
The smile falls off her face. “Oh.” She casts a quick, frightened look at her son.
With forced cheer, she turns back to Tim. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”
“Not at the moment. There was someone, but he’s away shooting a documentary in Perth.”
Dale looks up. “Another cameraman?”
“Director, actually.”
Mum beams. “Well, how exciting! We must hope his work takes him back to Melbourne soon!”
Dale stretches his mouth into a humorless smile.
Tim takes the curry chicken loaf out of the oven. He sets it on a cooling rack and tents it with aluminum foil, as per Dale’s Mum’s instructions.
In the hallway, Dale has a word with his mother.
“—first time I’ve ever heard you be supportive of a homosexual relationship. He’s a friend. I can be friends with a man like that even if he doesn’t have a boyfriend—”
“Dear, I—I just don’t want you getting hurt again, slandered—”
“I was a kid. We were both kids. Tim is an adult. A proper, grown man whose mum doesn’t do the washing up after him.”
Mum’s whole face trembles.
Dale forces himself to continue.
“Adam said what he said because he was scared, and he hated himself. And god knows what his father would’ve done if he knew he wanted it.”
Mum looks shocked. “D-do you hate yourself, darling?”
Dale’s eyes shine bright.
He draws her in for a hug.
“Mum. Next time you come over, can you show me how to cook something? Like you did with Tim?”
“W-will Tim be here next Saturday?”
Dale sighs. “I don’t know, Mum. He has other friends.”
He rubs her back. “I do appreciate everything you do for me. But I’m not a kid anymore. We can do things together, instead of you doing everything for me all the time.”
“Well I could—” Mum sniffles. “I could always give the rose bushes a good trimming next Saturday. I—I don’t want to—get in your hair if you have your—cosmopolitan work friends staying over. Or, maybe Helen be staying over by next week—“
“Mum? I want you to come over again next Saturday.”
Her face lights up in a tremulous smile.
Dale tries on a smile in return. “Maybe you can bring some roses from the yard? I like having flowers in the house.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Makes it feel more like a home.” He squeezes her arms. “This apartment would never feel like home without all you’ve done for me.”
Mum lets out a huge, shuddering sigh.
“I just want life to be easy for you, love.”
He kisses the top of her head.
It feels surreal, sitting down to dinner like a family.
Mum is full of praise for Tim’s contributions to this exciting new chicken loaf recipe.
“Well, I hope you don’t mind me saying so. But you’re so handsome, and handy in the kitchen. If you ever changed your mind, any woman would be lucky to have you.”
Under the table, Dale’s nails dig into his palm.
Tim smiles. “I suppose it’s nice to have options.” He looks at Dale.
Dale looks at his plate.
“Your mother must be so proud you can cook.”
Tim’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “We’re not on speaking terms, anymore.”
“Oh.” Mum her fork down. “I see.”
She seems shaken. “Well I, well I must say—”
Dale braces himself.
“It is a shame that—that she has, has deprived herself of the company of an absolutely charming young man. Who—who’s so talented, and kind, and, and, and—a joy to be around. It’s her loss. And I can only hope she’ll come around and realize what a mistake she’s made.”
Dale sits in shock.
He’s certain his hearing has gone funny.
She throws back her shoulders. “I’ll never understand disowning a child. Why, think of poor Lindy Chamberlain. Losing your child is every parent’s worst fear. Imagine—imagine throwing your child away, just because he turned out different than you expected.”
She sets down her silverware.
“Dale, you must tell me when Tim’s segments are on the air.”
Dale blinks.
“Well if I’m out in the field, that’s Tim’s crew. And when I’m not on-the-scene, he’s filming another reporter.”
“Why, your work must be on telly every day! I must tell my neighbor; the pair of us will be absolutely glued to the TV!”
As they walk her out, Mum tries to apologize for taking up Tim’s entire Saturday.
He won’t hear of it.
“I don’t regret the choices I’ve made, but.” He smiles at her. “I had a lot of fun borrowing you from Dale today. I never get the chance to do this sort of thing anymore, and. I do miss it.”
She hugs him.
Dale stands next to the open car door, watching with a sense of unreality.
The sun hangs low in the sky as Mum drives home.
Dale and Tim wave until she’s out of sight, then turn to each other.
Dale’s surprised to find Tim turning a polite, reserved smile towards him.
“I should probably head out.”
Dale’s mouth falls open.
“Or—”
Tim looks up at him.
Amused. Curious. Patient.
“Or...?”
Dale nods back towards his place.
“Come up for a nightcap?”