Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/256

 be ruthless, cruel, jealousy at every corner. Paul had told him that, and he had eyes, he could see.

"Bob … what do you think of me … am I wrong … you do like me, don't you?"

Blake laughed a throaty, hoarse sound. "'Course, Gay," the sound indulged Gaylord. It continued, "a helluva lot."

"Do you love someone else?"

"No … Come on Gay … let's …" He squeezed Gaylord's hand.

"You go out with so many … you …"

"What about all the rest of these guys you've been to bed with?" Blake's voice had changed and now became questioning.

A tremble ran throughout Gaylord's body. "The rest, Bob," he asked, plucking at Blake's pants … "The rest? Who else?"

"What about Paul? He loves you … so he says."

Gaylord had forgotten that. Yes, Paul did say he loved him. He had said other things too. Had told him about so many strange things about homosexual life, his life, for wasn't he one too? Paul's clear eyes were before him. The same far-off look that had penetrated them when they had said goodbye, was still there. Sad eyes. Sad because in this world they had nothing they could claim. Perhaps love for one night or a week … maybe a month … but not for always. They only saw things possessed by others, and Blake had the same look. It was all too complicated. But who did Blake mean when he said, the rest. There had only been Paul. No one else. His mind was muddled, confused. Everything was mocking him.

"I told you about Paul, Bob. I even let you read his letter … thinking it would bring us closer together … but when you say the rest, who do you mean?"

"Oh …"

"Tell me … I've got to know."

"Forget it … Let's don't be so serious … Life's too short. I didn't mean that … Let's have some fun … come on."

Gaylord felt the strong arms embrace him again and he allowed Blake to take his hand and lead it. He felt Blake's hard warm flesh. It shot an electric current through him. He tried to free his hand but Blake held firm. He couldn't, not tonight. Tonight it would be a kind