Envy

Content There’s more to being a man than fart jokes and s*x. I nod and watch Brian take a sip of his whiskey sour. I know that. He knows I know that. Sometimes, I swear he argues for the sake of arguing. Still, I love him, even when he’s being a brat. “Of course there’s more to it,” I said. I pull my margarita across the table and take a sip. Ugh. It’s bitter. There’s barely any tequila left in the bottom of the glass. I swirl the straw in a slow circle. I want to get another one, but I shouldn’t since I told Brian I’ll drive us both home. Buzzed driving is against the law as well, but I’ve been nursing this one for over an hour. I doubt I have much liquor left in my system. I wish I did. It would make the weird tension I feel from Brian a bit more bearable. “I don’t know why women think it would be so much fun anyway,” Brian said. I look up. Just as I expected. Avoiding eye contact is Brian’s new thing. There are a couple of handfuls of people in The Blue Devil, typical for this early on a Friday. With the muted lighting and dance music blasting from the speakers, it’s hard to tell if the patrons are having a normal quiet night or if the pensive mood at our table is in the atmosphere for everyone. Is Brian making everyone somber or is he adopting the quiet mood of the room? Chicken and egg, I guess. We’d chosen a table in the corner because Brian likes to people watch. I thought that was a nice way of saying he wants to check out every guy in the room while using his female friend as a shield in case one of the men wants to talk. The truth is, Brian Cook is s*x on a stick, if my opinion counts for anything. With his dark blue eyes, full, kissable lips, and messy dark brown hair, he spends more time ignoring men trying to make eye contact than giving anyone a chance to say more than hello. I once told him he ought to be ashamed of all the time he’d wasted, only to get one of those cute, bashful smiles of his in response. Behind that gorgeous exterior exists a man who is funny, smart and unfortunately, terminally shy. I have the opposite problem. Every stranger I meet is an opportunity for a new friend. It would be easy for me to filter through the jerks to set him up with someone suitable – if Brian would let me. Of course, he never does. He goes out of his way to avoid any situation that could lead to something romantic. I’ve started to hate Friday nights. Unless I’m out with Brian. We have our special alone time when we talk about everything and nothing. Tonight’s topic? I want to know what it would be like to be a man for a week. A day, even. I’d joked that I’d probably spend the first hour m**********g in front of a mirror. Yeah, like I was joking about that. It looks so hot when men do it, I’ll give just about anything to try it for myself. I was still laughing about it when I realized Brian was flipping out. I have no idea what triggered that, but, as has become the new norm, I have a feeling he won’t tell me what’s wrong if I ask him directly. “Okay, so yes, some of it is about s*x,” I said. That’d be silly to lie about. What woman hasn’t wondered at least once what it’s like to penetrate someone else? There’s got to be some crazy kind of sexy power in being the sword to someone’s sheath. I can easily imagine being the top in the kind of slow-moving s*x that lights up every nerve in someone else’s body until they explode. See, if I was a dude, I’d have a huge ego. That kind of s****l power would go to my head, and I’d love every minute of it. And so would the person on the receiving end. I touch Brian’s hand, waiting until he brings his attention back to me. He frowned, skin crinkling around his eyes. “We want to know what it feels like for a man. The physical part, the emotions, all the things no one ever talks about in detail.” “What about all those books you read? The gay porn stuff?” Why does everyone think it’s porn? As a gay man, he knows better. Or maybe he doesn’t since he claims he’s never picked one up. Still, I am sick of people dismissing romance novels as ‘mommy porn’ or some other demeaning label. It is not the 1950s. One would think we’d be beyond things ‘for girls’ being thought of as inferior. “You’ve really never read any books like that, have you? Let me straighten you out about that one. The vast majority of gay romance is written by women, most heterosexual, and like most romance, limited by the imagination of the writer. There are some amazing stories out there, but there are a lot of things women just can’t write about. I mean, they can describe frottage and anal and docking and everything else with as many adjectives as they can come up with, but that doesn’t replace firsthand knowledge of what it actually feels like for a man. That’s part of the fascination.” Brian stared at me and I can see the wheels turning. He’s always been good at dismantling my arguments, the only person who can, but he can’t say anything about this if he’s never read the books I read. He took another slow sip of his drink. “Women want to know what it’s like to play with another man’s foreskin? Trust me, it’s not that fascinating.” At last a smile. And a blush, I note as Brian finishes off his drink. “You’d be surprised. When it’s not something you’re born with, it’s a subject of endless curiosity.” “Yeah, about prostate stimulation. Pervert.” Damn it. I hate that he makes me snort-laugh. “Right, like you haven’t asked me a bunch of nosey questions about my breasts.” “Look, it is a known fact that all men are obsessed with boobies.” Brian looked down at my low-cut shirt. “Yours are pretty nice. You should show them off more.” “You have no room to talk. Your assets are far more noticeable than mine –” “I do not have boobs!” “Ha. But you are hot. And where are you now?” I gesture around the room. “Most popular gay bar in town –” “Because there are so many of them.” Three, and the one we’d picked was by far the nicest of our choices. Not that it will ever matter because Brian never let anyone get close enough to buy him a drink, never mind actually hit on him. One of these days, I am going to ignore his protests and find someone to set him up with. I meet cute gay guys all the time. He could have a date every night of the week if he wants. Well, except for his night with me. “Most popular bar in town and you’re hanging out with me, hiding in the corner. Cory has hit on you twice tonight and all you do is nod and sip your drink.” To be fair, the bartender hit on every halfway attractive man in the bar at some point, but the comments he’d made to Brian had seemed sincere. At least, they had to me. Or maybe I’m hoping they’re sincere because I am tired of seeing him alone. Brian frowned and gestured to the waitress behind me. Cory smiled at us and started on Brian’s next drink before I turn back to Brian. He had stopped shaving a few months ago and the thick growth of dark brown hair covering the bottom half of Brian’s face made him look mature and sophisticated beyond his twenty-six years. There’s something about his eyes, though. A beautiful dark blue, they’ve seemed haunted the few times I’ve been able to catch them with mine lately, as if Brian has a secret eating away at him that he can’t share, even with his best friend of ten years. I’ve given up trying to pry whatever it is out of him, instead trying to do little things that will get him out of the mood he’s been stuck in the past few weeks. Spending a night out once a week usually does the trick, but I am afraid tonight it isn’t enough. “Jamie, I wish you’d accept that not everyone wants to be paired off. Some of us are okay with being single.” “What does that mean?” The waitress came back with Brian’s drink at that point and I waited for her to leave with my empty glass before pressing Brian for an answer. “Well?” “It means, I know you’ve been unhappy since you broke up with that assho – Mark. I think our spending more time together lately has been good for you, but I’m not a project you can work on. If you’re restless, it’s because you want something new in your life. You should focus on that.” I do not think of him as a project. He isn’t nearly as smooth at changing the subject as he thinks he is, but I let it go. He is impossible when he shuts down like this. “I just want you to be happy,” I said. “I’m content.” Content. Like a cat sunning itself on a deck or a man who had given up wanting more for himself than a decent job and an empty apartment to come home to every night. Brian deserves more than that and it doesn’t make sense that he doesn’t want more for himself. “Is that enough for you?” The sadness in Brian’s eyes startled me before he broke eye contact, glancing across the bar before coming back to his drink. “For now,” Brian replied. “You’ll just have to live with that. That, and your p***s envy.” He winked at me before downing his drink in a few quick swallows. Fine. He still isn’t going to open up. I won’t give up, though. One of these days he is going to need to get whatever it is off his chest and I plan to be there when he’s ready to talk about it. “I suppose I could fix that by playing with a new one,” I said. “Wouldn’t hurt to try. Ready?” I nod. By the time we made it to my car in the parking lot, I made up my mind. I am going to find a way to make Brian his usual sunny self again or pry whatever is bothering him out with whatever bribe I can think of. I am out of sorts enough on my own. I can’t stand both of us being in the dumps over our unfortunate love lives. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.” “Brian, what makes you think I’m thinking of anything specific?” He paused midstride and considered me. “Because I know you better than anyone, Jamie Marie Godwin. You’re plotting something and whatever it is isn’t going to work.” “But what if it does work? It could be awesome.” Brian rolled his eyes and continued walking to my car. “You need a boyfriend.” Or two. Maybe two who like each other as well as me. Hm. I walked faster to keep up with him. “You’re my boyfriend and you’re perfect, so why would I want anyone else?” A pause and then, “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, you are too drunk to drive us both home.” I stopped and Brian turned to face me. “Now what would be wrong in thinking about a little experiment?” “You’re entirely too beautiful and smart to waste time wanting something that’s never going to happen,” Brian said. Right. I don’t need to remind him of the drunk message he’d posted on f*******: a few months ago, where he was more than willing to try a few things with “the most special person” in his life. No one had been more surprised than me that I’d been tagged. The next morning, it was like nothing had happened. Except that several of his friends had screen-capped the message on his page and teased him about it for weeks. Not that I believed Brian was suddenly questioning his sexuality, I just found it fascinating that he would make that kind of declaration publicly. Drunk or not, Brian never said things he didn’t mean. After he’d deleted the post, he didn’t deny that he’d meant every word at the time. Of course I wondered what that meant. Or I just want it to mean something because I need to mean something to someone right now. I’d rather not think about that. As further proof Brian can read my mind, he leaned close to whisper. “I like manparts and you are decidedly lacking in that area.” “And if I wasn’t?” Brian laughed and patted me on the shoulder. “You’d still be my best friend and I’d still be fine with being a single man by choice.” I frowned and Brian squeezed my shoulder. “You’re a good friend to be worried about me, but there’s no reason to worry.” “There’s a reason,” I said. “Even if you won’t admit what it is.” Brian sighed and looked away from me. He can lie to himself all he wants to, but he’s never been able to lie to me worth a damn and tonight is no exception. He isn’t content being single. Something is keeping him from opening himself up to a relationship, opening up to me. Whatever it is, I am fine with waiting to hear about it. No, that is bull. I am impatient, but I am willing to wait because Brian hates being pushed. However, I am not fine with Brian lying to my face, even to protect himself. “Brian –” “Can we just drop it for now?” he asked. “I promise I’ll tell you later.” He stroked the side of my face with his thumb and I leaned into the warmth of his hand. In this moment, it feels like all is forgiven, like our little argument is a thing of the past. If only that were true. “You’ve got a loose eyelash.” Brian smiled. “Make a wish,” he said, holding his hand in front of my mouth. I focused on the eyelash and blew, the small hair disappearing quickly. “What’d you wish for?” Brian asked as we walked to my car. I hooked my arm around his and leaned against him. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Besides, I don’t want to spoil the chances of it coming true.”