Saturday, July 4, 2009

I'd Die for You by Jude Mason

“Want some company?” The words were out before he even thought about them. He was attracted to Abel and it had been a long time since he’d felt anything like it. He wanted to see where it led. At least for the night.

“Sure, it’ll be a little while before I can get out of here, though. Clean up and getting the dishes done will take about half an hour.”

“No problem, unless you cut me off. Oh, and I would like to fill up my bike.”

“Cash on the gas?”

“Yeah.” Snake reached for his wallet and dug out a twenty. “This cover the beer up til now, too?”

“Yup, you’re good.” Abel took the bill and went to the cash register. Opening it, he tucked the bill inside. “Fill your bike whenever you’re ready.”

Taking another chug of beer, Snake thought he’d better fill the tank before he had anymore. He put the mug down carefully, and got to his feet. “Back in a flash.”

Walking toward the door, he felt the bartender’s eyes burning a hole into his back. He wondered if the man liked what he saw.

Pushing open the screen door and stepping outside, heat hit him like he’d walked into an oven. Sweat trickled down his sides and back. The sun glared, making him squint. For a second, he felt lightheaded. He shook it off and went toward his bike. Behind him, he heard the scraping of chairs.

“Come on Joe,” a gruff voice said, then he’d moved too far away to hear more. The Harley sat exactly where he’d left it, in the shade of the overhead. At least it wasn’t in the direct sun, he thought and unlocked the gas cap.

While filling the tank, he watched the patrons of the bar troop out and get into their separate vehicles. The men joked about who’d pay next week and one of them moaned about his old lady being mad he never took her out. Snake ignored the banter, simply noting when they left.

Replacing the cap, he put the nozzle back and flipped the guard down. Christ, the cost of gas is insane. His twenty was stretching pretty thin.

When he’d been released from COR, one of his first stops had been to his bank. The money he’d made inside would tide him over for a while, but it would be nice to know he’d be good for a lot longer. The AIDS test had been next, and he remembered the relief when he got those results. His parole officer turned out to be an okay guy, and after the first few weeks of meetings, he’d agreed that Snake could contact him by phone instead of physically visiting him. They’d agreed on a password, and if Snake forgot to say it, the law would be after him.

The last vehicle to leave the parking lot headed north with a rooster tail of gravel sent into the air behind it. The truck jerked onto the pavement and then trailed after the others, it looked like a parade, and traveled at about that speed.

Snake grabbed the handlebars and kicked the stand up, then wheeled the Harley toward the shade side of the grill. Putting it back on its stand, he stepped back and swiped his arm across his forehead, wiping the sweat away. He hurried back inside, anxious to get out of the heat.

“I hope that beer’s still waiting,” Snake called to the front of the bar. The cooler air made him shiver, but he was still ready to down a beer or two.

Abel looked up from his chores and smiled. “I just poured you a fresh one, right here. Why?”

“It’s like a fuckin’ oven out there.” He weaved around tables and chairs until he
stood at the bar, his mug of beer still more than half-full. He lifted it and took a long drink. Three swallows and a sudden sharp pain encompassing his head made him tear the mug from his lips. He winced and cringed. “Fuck,” he moaned. “Brain freeze.
Fuck!”

Abel laughed. “Serves you right for guzzling it.”

“Oh fuck off, smartass.” Snake ran the cold mug across his forehead, loving how it felt against his hot flesh, annoyed at the pain inside his head. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Slowly the ache faded, and he opened his eyes. He aimed a gruff snarl at Abel.

“Nice,” the man said in a jovial tone. “Here I offer to stay open so you can drink more beer and all you can do is growl at me.” He continued loading the glass washer and clearing minor debris off the work surface behind the well polished bar.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, cry me a river,” Snake teased enjoying the man’s easy banter. It had been too long since he’d had the chance to flirt.

“You going to continue ragging on me or would you rather give me a hand so we can get out of here? I do have beer at my place.” Abel came around from behind the bar, this time stopping in front of Snake and placing his hands on his hips. He thrust his middle toward Snake, as if consciously drawing attention to the bulge in the front of his jeans.

Snake’s gaze automatically lowered to that bulge and his mouth went dry. The man’s cock was outlined, the pale blue material stretched almost to the tearing point by its length and girth. Snake’s mouth filled with saliva and it took all of his willpower to keep his hands from reaching out.