7. WHAT A JERK, BLESS HIS HEART.

Steve had screwed up. He knew he'd screwed up. He'd felt it the moment he'd knocked on the door to Angus's house. But he'd gone ahead and done it anyway. And now there were consequences that he would have to face.

No. That was stupid. I deleted that whole section and sighed. I wanted the ending to my piece to be perfect. I mean, from peer reviewing and all, the rest of the piece was pretty much perfect. I wanted the end to match, but I didn't know if I could get the right ending when everything was so fucked up in my real life. Kevin said he would call me. He was 'working on something'.

While he was 'working' on his something, he told me that I had to 'talk to Dale'. 'Cause he said he couldn't fix something that was just gonna break anyway. He said that if it was gonna work out, Dale and I were gonna hafta talk to each other and work it out. I wasn't lookin forward to it. I didn't know what the fuck to say to him.

Speechless Steve. More like scared shitless Steve. Flirting is one thing, and when the other guy starts it, it's easier to join in. But having a 'talk'? Wasn't that girl stuff? What the heck did he have to say to Dale, anyway? Was there anything Steve could say that would make Dale change his mind? That could bring things back to the way they had been?

Maybe Kevin was wrong. Maybe there was no way to fix it. Maybe it was supposed to be this way. Maybe Dale and Steve just weren't meant to be. But all these maybes just made Steve angry. Why should HE be the one to apologize, to make amends? Dale was the one who had refused to acknowledge what they had. Dale was the one who refused to admit that he was gay. Why shouldn't Dale be responsible for the apology?

I stopped again, not sure if I wanted to continue. I took a deep breath, and something caught my attention. It smelled like... brownies. Brownies? I took another deep breath. Yeah, definitely brownies. I turned off the computer and went into the kitchen.

There was a pan of them sitting on the counter, all cut up and everything. I used the spatula to pull one out. They were still warm, too. I ate it slowly, closing my eyes. I probably didn't enjoy chocolate the same way girls did, how they drooled over it. But brownies were just somethin else. Probably my favorite sweet food. I couldn't bake to save my life, though, not even if it came from scratch.

"I made 'em for you." Dale's voice startled me, partly because he hadn't talked to me in a couple days, and partly because it was so close. I turned and saw him standing right there next to me.

"Dale?" It almost felt like it was some kind of dream, and I waited for the part where I'd wake up.

"Can I talk to you?" He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and tapped his cigarettes against his leg with the other. Just one might mean that he was bored or somethin, but he was doing both at the same time. Nervous. He was nervous. Did that mean something, or did I just want it to mean something?

"Yeah, uh, I guess so." I wasn't gonna say no. I mean, fuck. I stood up. He was really close to me, like I could just lift my arm up and touch him. But I didn't.

"Can we, maybe, sit down?" he asked. I just followed him into the living room and over to the couch, leaving a bigger space between us than from when we were standing. It was safer that way, especially if the stuff he was gonna say to me was stuff I didn't wanna hear.

Dale took out a cigarette from his pack and put it in his mouth, but didn't light it. He took it out again, holding it between his two fingers. He jiggled his leg, tapped his hand against it. He wouldn't look at me. He brought the cigarette back to his mouth. Finally, I reached out and put my hand on top of his leg, stopping the motion.

He stared at me, the cigarette hanging from his lips. I couldn't think about what I was doing, so I didn't. I just did it. I took the cigarette away from him and dropped it on the floor. I slid forward on the couch, toward him. He didn't move away, didn't stop me, but he didn't move forward, either.

I moved so close that our legs were touching. And then he moved at the same time as me and we both grabbed for each other. He grabbed my shoulders and his mouth was hard against mine.

I didn't realize how much I missed it until I had it back. The taste of nicotine and his wet tongue. His hands, the scent of him, the feel of his body underneath my hands. I had missed it so much that I didn't wanna stop. I didn't wanna give it up ever again.

"Steve," he whispered, his voice near my ear. He pushed my shirt up, his hands hot against my skin. But I couldn't get enough. I let him take my shirt off, let him run his hands over me, let him press those wet lips to my chest.

I didn't care where we were. I didn't care that we were in the living room and Andy could walk in whenever. I just wanted him so bad that I couldn't think right. He pushed me back against the couch and kissed me again, hard. Dale's left hand was on my cheek. But with his right hand, he cupped my crotch, and I moaned into his mouth.

"Oh, Jesus." But it wasn't me that said it. It was Andy's voice and it startled me enough that I pushed Dale up. It wasn't just Andy there, though. Ramona was standin next to him, trying to hide a smile behind her hand. My face got really hot. Dale sat back on the couch and straightened his shorts before picking his cigarette up off the floor where he'd dropped it.

My shirt was still on the floor, and I wondered if it would be better to leave it off or if I should try and look casual by pickin it up off the floor and putting it back on.

"Uh, hey guys," Andy said. He talked like we hadn't just been not speaking to each other for the better part of two weeks. Like we were just best buddies again. I decided to leave my shirt on the floor. "This is Ramona," Andy added, gesturing to her. She nodded, biting her lip. I hadn't really ever seen her this up close before. She was really kinda pretty, and Andy looked really happy with her, so I guess that was the good part.

"Nice to meet you," I said. Dale just grunted and took out his lighter, flicking it on. But he didn't light the cigarette.

"Um, Ramona thinks I should apologize," Andy said.

"Apologize?" I asked. Dale raised his eyebrows. Andy nodded.

"You know, for bein a jerk about, well," he waved his hands around, gesturing to me and Dale, to my shirt on the floor, "About you guys." I blinked, 'cause I couldn't believe that he was actually saying this. Like all of a sudden he was turning around? All of a sudden he was sorry and he was changing his mind?

"You're kidding."

"Naw," he said, shrugging, "I mean, I still think it's kinda weird and well, I don't wanna think about it. But you guys are my friends, so if you're into that kinda thing, then I guess it's all right."

"Besides," Ramona said, and I realized it was the first time I heard her voice. It was kinda soft and smooth. "You were both so accepting of his relationship with me, and he realizes that he needs to reciprocate."

"What's your relationship gotta do with ours?" Dale asked, and my heart swelled a little bit because he acknowledged that we had a relationship.

"Both types of relationships – between people of different races or people of the same sex – are still make some people uncomfortable," Ramona explained, "But it's kind of like Romeo and Juliet – even if people try to keep them apart, love will conquer all."

"Uh, I read that one," I said, "Didn't them two kids die at the end? I ain't gonna die for him," I added, looking over at Dale.

"Some boyfriend you are," he snorted, rolling his eyes, "See if I ever make you brownies again."

"Brownies?" Andy exclaimed, raising his eyebrows, "Where?" And he was off like a shot into the kitchen, probably mauling all my brownies into little pieces.

"If you want any, you'd better go get them before Andy eats them all," I said to Ramona. Mostly 'cause I wanted her to leave the room. Andy'd apologized, and that was all I cared about. Now I wanted Dale to myself. To finish what we'd started.

"Oh, I can't," Ramona said, shaking her head. Andy came back into the room, a half-eaten brownie in one hand and a whole one in the other.

"Oh don't start with that diet bullshit," Andy said, handing her the full brownie, "You don't need to lose weight. Besides, brownies are good for you." She blushed a little and started picking at the brownie, taking little tiny bites. I would never understand girls.

"I need a smoke," Dale announced. He looked over at me, "Come with me." He didn't need to ask me twice. So we left Ramona and Andy in the living room while we went outside to sit on the steps. I watched Dale light his cigarette and take the first drag. I'd tried smoking when I was fifteen, but it didn't have the same appeal as watchin Dale do it. Maybe I was the one that was fucked up.

Dale reached out and held my hand with his free one, and we sat there like that, quiet. We didn't need to talk, anyway. Sometimes there weren't any right words.

Then I saw Kevin coming down the street. Dale musta seen him, too, 'cause he got all tensed up.

"What's he doin here?" he asked, quiet like, when Kevin waved.

"Don't worry," I said, patting his shoulder, "He's all right." Dale stood up and crushed his cigarette.

"I'll see you inside," he said. As he shut the door behind him, Kevin approached the steps.

"Hey," he said, smiling brightly. The word gay fits people like him just right. Both meanings.

"What?"

"Did Andy talk to you?" he asked.

"You didn't have anything to do with that," I said, "Ramona talked to him and convinced him to stop bein a jerk."

"And who do you think talked to Ramona?" he asked, looking smug. Even if the guy was sorta my friend now, he was still kinda annoying.

"Fine, fine. Thanks for making my life more bearable. Now if you just keep the Angus thing to yourself..." I said, lowering my voice a little. I'd tell Dale about it eventually. Just... much later.

"Only if you do something for me," he said. "Well, two things."

"Like what?" What could he want that he didn't already have? I mean, he was rich and handsome and all that shit.

"Well... first, I want you and your friends to come to our apartment for a little party this weekend."

"No fuckin way," I said, "You think Dale and Andy would agree to that? Besides, your guys hate us." Kevin shook his head.

"No they don't. I talked to them. They said they wouldn't mind getting to know all of you guys. We could be friends. It'll be fun!" He sounded like he actually believed this crap.

"Okay, so let's say that I could convince them to come. What's the second thing?"

"You put in a good word for me with Angus." He smiled, and it took me a minute to get what he was asking.

"You? Angus? Okay, now I know you're shittin me."

"What? I can't help it. The muscular thing is totally hot."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, sweetie." I rolled my eyes as Kevin waved and practically skipped off. Maybe the ending to my story wouldn't be so bad after all.

[&]

What Kevin had called a party didn't exactly fit the definition. The only guests, other than the three frat boys, were Dale, Andy, and Steve. There was 'music', if one could call that ridiculous hip-hop crap 'music'. There was food – a bag of chips, two cheese pizzas and a case of beer. At least they'd gotten the right kind. Not exactly a happening party. Brian and Michael stood at the table where the pizza was, like they were trying to guard it or something.

Dale, Andy and Steve stood at the other side, near the hallway that led to the door, like they were ready to escape at any moment. Kevin sort of hung somewhere in the middle. It was not the most comfortable of situations, and it felt like something was hanging in the air, something that could either be good or bad. It was hard to tell.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Kevin exclaimed. "You guys must have something to talk about!" He looked over at Brian and Michael. They looked at each other.

"Hey Andy," Michael said, "I hear you got a girlfriend now."

"So?"

"Well, since you're taken, mind sending some of those extra girls down my way?" he asked.

"What makes you think they'd take you for a replacement?" Andy retorted. Then him and Michael both laughed, and it sorta broke the tension in the room. Dale crossed the room and took out two cans of beer and brought them back. He gave one to me and popped the top on the other. I watched him gulp it down, watched his throat move. Not like watching him smoke, but it was damn close.

"So, Steve," Kevin said, kinda loudly, "How's your project going?" I could tell he was trying to get me back to the conversation instead of staring at Dale.

"What project?" Brian asked, like he thought it was his business.

"It's just a thing," I said, not really wanting to explain it to these guys I didn't really know.

"Steve's writing a novel," Kevin explained, "Have you finished yet?" He looked back at me. I shook my head.

"Haven't come up with a good ending yet." I shrugged.

"Everyone should die," Brian said, "Good endings happen when everyone dies." He grinned widely. I thought of ending my story where all of us died in some fiery car crash. Naw, it would be too stupid. Too weird. And not real.

"No," Kevin said, shaking his head, "A good ending is like in the romantic movies when they ride off in the sunset together. That would be beautiful." He sighed and looked a little wistful. I thought about it, and something good came to me.

They sat side by side in the bed of Dale's truck. The beat up old Chevy was hardly a noble steed, but when it came down to it, Steve wouldn't have chosen anything else. The sun was sinking down behind them, but the two men hardly seemed to notice. Who would notice a sunset when the one you love is sitting beside you, rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand?

There was no place that Steve would have rather been at that moment than right there with Dale. It was cheesy, but it was true. And they lived happily, ever after.

The End

Author's Note – I hope this ending didn't seem too forced or, well, perfectly tied up. Are everyone's reactions believable? Do you think it was realistic enough?

Any comments about the story, the characters, etc, that you particularly liked or didn't like would really help for me to make this story as good as possible.

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