The Curse of Flight

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Steve’s eyelids opened a crack. A sliver of light let in the new day. Not too fast. He didn’t want to leave the night behind. His arm stretched across the mattress and fell flat. He jolted up. By the sliding glass door, a hint of sunlight silhouetted a dark form. “Come back to bed.”

Without reply, that shape stood on one leg and pulled on pants. Knee up, back curved limber, lean and tight as Steve remembered. There was something else about Josh. Hard to tell in just one night, Steve couldn’t put a finger on it. “What’s the rush?”

The dark form buttoned his shirt without acknowledgement.

Steve’s groin sent signals. He needed to pee. First, the morning wood had to fall, so he sat on the edge of the bed and waited to make the trip.

He reached for a smoke on the nightstand and found the pack empty. Elbows stretched above his head. Muscles flexed. Kinks worked loose. Neck and shoulders mumbled pops and snaps to the inner ear.

He reached for the ceiling. “I took care of you. Didn’t I?” Chin tucked to chest. He repeated the exercise as eyes rolled up to watch Josh.

The backlit form leaned against a chair by the balcony and bent to put on boots. “No complaints,” Josh said.

No complaints? Steve’s outstretched arms dropped from overhead and bounced on the bed, muscles limp. Come on. It was great, for him more romantic than the movies, but real, as raw as porn, but real, better than any of that and anyone before, the real thing. A crooked frame on the wall near Josh’s head caught Steve’s eye, the Skyfall poster from his collection. He’d straighten it later. “I want a replay.”

Sunlight streamed stronger through the window. It outlined Josh’s wavy hair, wide shoulders, and the slope to the hips, which turned as Josh faced him. “I’ve got to go. Nice place. Great view.”

Behind that diamond shape, beyond a downtown skyline and the valley’s end, fresh winter snow covered the mountains. Steve’s legs chilled. He threw on sweats from the floor.

Josh disappeared through the bedroom door.

Steve jumped up and followed him down the hall toward the foyer, not far, which sometimes was a good thing, but this time not. “I want your number.” He passed the last frame on the wall, Brokeback Mountain, and looked for him in the living room.

Josh picked up his jacket from the couch and headed to leave.

Steve flinched at the thought of losing him. He put himself between Josh and the door. Yes, he went there, shouldn’t have but did it anyway. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

Josh put on the coat and stepped up to him. “Nothing.”

“Can I have your number? Want mine?” A pause. Silence, the sound of regret.

“No. I have to get going.” Josh nudged forward.

“So, what’s the matter?” Steve parked himself.

“Nothing, I’m late.” Josh reached around him for the doorknob.

Steve didn’t want to be a jerk and block the way, but that was what he did until his eye caught a magic marker on the credenza by the door. Business cards were too easy to lose. The thing in that movie, now was his chance. He always wanted to do it. “No kiss goodbye?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Josh wasn’t happy.

This couldn’t be happening, not after last night. It wasn’t a dream. Steve extended his right hand. “Shake then?”

Josh’s warm fingers brushed his palm. Instead of shaking with the right, Steve took Josh’s hand with the left. Shouldn’t have but did it anyway. Awkward, he grabbed the marker with his right, pulled off the cap with his teeth, and wrote his number on Josh’s palm. “Call me.”

Josh stared at the ink and rubbed it. “I need to leave. Here, give me that.”

Steve was going to offer it, but Josh grabbed the pen right out of his hand.

“Give me.” Josh grabbed his hand too.

Happy to oblige, Steve turned his palm up. Josh bent it out of view. Cold ink wet Steve’s skin. Excitement rolled down his spine. Josh let go, but the tingle remained with Steve. He would see Josh again.

Now he could step away from the door. Josh opened it, walked out, and threw the marker on the credenza behind him. Steve’s eyes didn’t let go until Josh disappeared in the elevator.

Steve leaned against the door and savored the thrill Josh left with him. He clutched the number tight in his hand. So pumped, like that time in high school, when he first kissed a boy, and it lit him up for a week.

Time came to see the treasure he held. Fingers unfolded. Palm opened. Then the light in him went out. No numbers, Josh wrote words instead, seven letters. I said no. Fist closed to crush it and pounded the wall. A long time ago, he lost track of that boy who kissed him in his sophomore year, but he would never forget him.