Date: Mon, 14 Aug 2006 02:38:43 -0400
From: amcterrapin@netscape.net
Subject: This old bar part 2

Copyright 2006 by AMc. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction; any
resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author
retains all rights to this work and you may not copy or transmit it in any
way except in it's entirety and with this disclaimer.


This Old Bar

Chapter 2


"I'm sorry I dumped that on you." Sam buttoned his shirt as he walked into
the kitchen. Joe was busy making breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon.

"Not a problem. " He shrugged.  He divided the eggs and handed Sam his
serving still holding onto the plate.

"Are you all right with it?" Joe asked concern etched in his face. He
nodded vigorously.

"Then that's all that matters." Joe ended the discussion. He directed Sam
to the flatware, glasses and place mats which he set on the counter while
Joe puttered with coffee. They sat next to each other and talked about
nothing as they ate.

While Joe cleaned up after the meal, Sam explored the apartment. It was
pretty generic with white walls, wood floors and dull but functional
furniture. A pile of laundry covered a stuffed chair. There was a large
table against one wall used as a work desk, spilling over with books,
papers and a computer that needed updating. The only personal touch was a
couple of photos on the wall opposite the windows.

One showed a funky old tavern with a sign "Gigli" over the
entrance. Another was a family lined up in a backyard. Sam asked about the
portrait and Joe identified dad, mom- also very attractive- and his three
sisters. Joe appeared to be about twelve; smiling clownishly at the camera
with his father's arm around his shoulder. Next to that was a photo of a
taller, teenage Joe standing stiffly beside his somber faced father.

"Joe Senior and still a bastard." Joe remarked bluntly. Sam gave him a
questioning glance.

"We don't get along. He's old world Italian where real men don't suck
dick." he answered with venom. Joe seemed disinterested in the collection,
calling them ghost from his past. Sam thought that curious considering the
care he took to have them professionally matted and framed. A picture of a
baseball team caught his eye.

"Hey is that you?" Sam pointed to a familiar face in the first row.

"That's me left fielder and pitcher." he said in a flat voice.

"Did you ever play in the majors?" Sam asked excitedly.

"Only minor league, I was ok until my arm gave out." he rubbed his right
upper arm absently.

"Want to go to Washington Park? It's supposed to be warm today."  Joe
asked, changing the subject. Sam was about to agree when he suddenly
remembered all the work he didn't get done last night and looked at his
watch with alarm.

"Actually I need to get home. Sorry." he said and Joe looked momentarily
disappointed.

"Come to my place tomorrow and we'll figure out something to do." he
suggested. He really wanted to see Joe again and they agreed on a time to
meet. With a hug and kiss goodbye, Sam was gone leaving Joe standing alone
in the middle of the room wondering what to do.

He decided to clean the apartment, something he wished he had done BEFORE
Sam came. It was a typical bachelor mess. Cleaning helped dissipate his
nervous energy.

Was Sam really interested in him? he wondered, his exit was rather
abrupt. The sex was thrilling but he worried he otherwise came off as
slovenly with the mess and cynical in light of his harsh commentary about
the pictures. He glared at them with new anger. He really should get rid of
the damn things. All they did was cause him grief but there was a part of
him that held onto them as a warning, so they stayed.

He did the laundry and changed the bedding when he suddenly realized he
didn't know Sam's phone number or where he lived. He debated calling Dave
to get the information but was reluctant to get into the subject of Sam
with his inquisitive friend. He slapped his forehead when he remembered the
resume Sam gave him. Rummaging around the desk became a prolonged search
but he eventually found it.

The relief he felt made him realize how bad he had it for Sam. He hadn't
desired anyone like this since. . . well never. What did a young kid like
him see in a paunchy, balding guy like him? That thought intruded on him as
he continued reorganizing the desk. No sooner did he finish when Sam
called.

" I can't wait until tomorrow to see you and I was wondering if you had
dinner yet?" he tried to sound casual but it came out in a nervous rush.

"I was just debating whether to stay home or go out." Joe lied, he planned
on leftovers.

"Great, I'll make you dinner and thank you properly for last night."  Sam
didn't need to thank him but Joe said nothing. He agreed and hurried out
the door as soon as he hung up.

Sam lived on the other side of the Willamette River which bisected the
city. It was an old neighborhood, quiet and tree lined. Joe smoothed his
his new jeans, red polo shirt and hair in that order before walking up to
the tiny house set back behind a large mission style house. He adjusted
himself and shifted the bottle of wine in his hands to knock on the
door. It was opened almost immediately and Sam greeted him warmly.

He wore baggy shorts and a PSU jersey. The house was a studio apartment
with a small kitchen, bath and one large room. A dining table was tucked
next to a diminutive refrigerator and there a double bed in the far
corner. The place was lit with a dozen or so candles set in dishes of water
on shelves and tables. Joe was amazed at how perfect it looked- like a
layout in a magazine with tasteful prints on the wall, simple but elegant
furniture and soothing colors. It increased his embarrassment about the
shabbiness of his own place.

"I thought we'd dine Italian tonight." Sam said indicating the table with a
red checkered cloth and a candle. The dinner was lasagna- store bought, a
salad, and the bottle of chianti Joe brought. He found the attempt at
Italian cuisine amusing but sincere. The meal was enjoyable as Sam rubbed a
bare foot on Joe's leg in a very deliberate imitation of their previous
brush and he twitched in anticipation.

After dinner, Sam heightened the pleasure by leading Joe to the bed where
he undressed him then performed a slow striptease. He could feel Joe's eyes
on him as he revealed a smooth, slightly muscular body. Joe watched him
with desire as Sam slipped into the bed, snuggling next to him.

He cradled Joe's head as he kissed him deeply, letting his mouth linger
while he took hold of Joe's rigid cock with his other hand, massaging
it. Joe had held it hundreds of times but it always felt unreal with
someone else's hand on it. Sam proceeded down his neck, then to his
sensitive nipples which he licked and bit. Joe gasped, arching his back
with a jerk at the touch.  Joe now stood at a attention, throbbing to his
heart beat. Sam went down on him, sucking on him like a straw in a milk
shake. Joe's breathing came in short gasps as he rose to a climax waiting
to feel a hot load on his stomach. Instead he looked down to Sam still
milking him. They lay in each other's arm surrounded by candle light as
they recovered their energy. Sam put his head close to Joe and it felt so
right to both of them.

For the first time in a long time, Joe felt safe and happy. Here he was in
a beautiful place with a handsome man who found him attractive. Joe was
content and didn't want to ruin this, not this time.  He let out a deep
audible sigh.

"What are you thinking?" Sam asked quietly as he played with Joe's chest
hair.

"How wonderful you are, how sweet it is being here." it was a glib answer
but Joe was too lost in thought to articulate his feelings.

"I was thinking about what turns you on." Sam admitted with a sly smile.

"Isn't it obvious?" Joe asked looking pointedly at Sam whose face wrinkled
in delight at the compliment. They went back to their silent, internal
ruminations. Sam was so still Joe thought he had fallen asleep.

"When did you know you were gay?" Sam asked and Joe was taken aback by the
non-sequiter. He squirmed momentarily, it was not an easy topic for him. He
automatically considered the question suspicious but then decided Sam was
just being curious.

"When I was sixteen, I preferred to hang out with the good looking guys on
the baseball team then be with a girl, I figured something was odd about
that, so did my mom. I ended up telling Dad when I left for college." Joe
laughed sadly, it was such an unpleasant memory. Sam turned his head to
look at Joe with an expression that invited Joe to continue.

"He didn't take it well. All that Italian macho shit. ' I ain't going to
tell anyone and neither are you or I'll disown you' he said, and that was
the last time we spoke." His hand chopped the air in a gesture of finality.

"That's terrible. How did you deal with it?" Sam was appalled. Joe gave a
rueful laugh.

" After I left baseball I took up drinking, got two DUI's, sobered up and
brought a bar with Dave."

"How about you, when did you know?" Joe threw back at him.

"That's easy, October 14, 2001." he said without hesitation. Now it was
Joe's turn to encourage him to go on.

"I had just started at PSU. Me and a bunch of friends challenged some frat
guys to a game of football. There was this one hunky guy and when he
tackled me I came almost instantly. I knew at that moment I wanted to have
sex with guys." he said matter of factly. Joe was astonished at how honest
and easy Sam was on the subject. If only he could be so open.  He was
grateful for the delight and comfort in his arms.

They spent a lot of time alone exploring each other's bodies but the
outside world was still a place of caution for Joe. He remained cordial to
Sam at work, keeping things on a professional level, but was guarded when
he and Sam went elsewhere. He would not acknowledge Sam's subtle
affections; a nudge with an arm or leg, a squeeze to his thigh, a long
glance Sam was frustrated and bewildered by his behavior until they were
behind a closed door, then Joe would practically ravage him and all was
forgotten. Joe knew it bothered Sam. His behavior bothered him more.  When
he looked at Sam he wanted to shout to the world his affection but then his
old fear and vulnerability grabbed him before he dared.

His fears caught up with him one night when he dreamed of his father. He
was with Sam, they lay on a beach cuddling and laughing when a shadow
passed over them. Looking up Joe saw his father's looming face peering down
at him with an angry scowl. He woke in a cold sweat and looked at the
clock. It was six am in Pittsburgh, his father would just be getting up, he
never slept more than a few hours. Mom would be up making him breakfast the
way he demanded; two soft boiled eggs, a slice of nearly burnt toast and
black coffee. Nothing ever changed with that stubborn man, not even his
disapproval of Joe. He stared at the ceiling and sobbed until he fell back
to sleep.

It was a bad omen. Work on the bar progressed at a hellish pace as one
thing after another went wrong. Supplies didn't arrive then work halted
while a snotty city inspector viewed the structural framing with suspicion
but grudgingly passed it. Then one of the crew injured his hand and had to
be rushed to the ER.

 He was glad Sam wasn't there. It would have made the situation worse with
his detached manner toward him and he didn't want Sam see him at his
worst. They quit early to everyone's relief.  The misery of work continued
and his worse fears were realized when Sam appeared later that week and his
anxiety went off the scale. Sam was his usual friendly self but Joe avoided
his gaze.

Lunch time came and everyone sat on the tailgate of Bill's pick up parked
behind the building. The usual banter turned bawdy when the guys spotted
two women walking pass the site. Sam noticed Joe smiled and went along with
it. He was alarmed at a growing suspicion.

He felt like someone had thrown ice cold water in his face. He understood
at last the reason for Joe's behavior and he didn't like it. Joe lived
where so many dwelled in hiding. Sam had visited that place but he was not
going to join the masquerade in order to have a relationship, that would be
a step backwards. Despite his hope otherwise, Joe was not coming out into
the light of day. He finally cornered Joe making a trip to the dumpster in
the corner of the parking lot.

"What's going on with you?" Sam asked in an uncharacteristic flash of
anger. Joe's eyes darted around to make sure no one was looking.

"What do you mean?" Joe said with false innocence.

"You know damn well what I mean." Sam said tersely. Joe looked at him in
growing fear, seeing the challenge in Sam's gaze. He leaned in close to
Sam.

"These guys don't know I'm gay and I prefer to keep it that way." he said
urgently. Sam stared at him and Joe knew what he was thinking. He had seen
that look before with other lovers. The look that terrified him.

"They're not the only ones." Sam said with cold disappointment. He turned
and left.

Joe was devastated but not surprised Sam did not return his phone
calls. Why did he have to act this way? He lashed at himself as he paced
the living room listening to the phone ring as he tried to call Sam again.

"Fuck." he swore as he hurled the phone across the room. It bounced off the
couch and skidded across the floor. Incongruously he wondered how much
abuse they were designed to withstand, as he stood in the middle of the
room, staring at nothing. He shook himself awake and looked around. The
apartment was lonelier than ever. It was empty and barren of anything
recognizable.

What have I done? He wailed internally as he squeezed his eyes shut feeling
the sting of rising tears. He gasped and threw open his eyes when he
realized he had stopped breathing. His rising anxiety threatened to drown
him. He caught sight of the photos on the far wall and drew closer as if
seeing them for the first time. He inspected each one critically until he
came to the team picture. He clutched at his right arm as a nervous spasm
came.

Sam didn't understand and Joe couldn't explain. He was too afraid of his
past. This was how he screwed up his other relationships. Maybe this time
I'll be strong enough to resist those demons and come out of my shell, he
told himself whenever he he got involved with someone. This time I'll have
the support of a partner to throw off this bondage once and for all. When
his lovers understood what a coward he was, they left him standing at the
cliff edge of freedom with a look of sad disgust. They were tired of
waiting for him to make the leap only to see him retreat into his shadow of
doubt.

He didn't blame them one bit. His self hatred came to a boil and he smashed
his fist into the team photo shattering the glass. He ignored the pain and
bleeding from his cut hand as he rooted around in a kitchen cabinet for an
old bottle of tequila and got quite drunk.