Flash: Love on the Line

A gay couple dancing at the Chelsea Arts New Year’s Eve Bal

A gay couple dancing at the Chelsea Arts New Year’s Eve Ball. Photograph by Tony Linck. London, January 1947

Fran dragged Leslie onto the dance floor for the Chelsea Ball. It worked despite Leslie being taller, stronger and having a military background for two reasons. One, Leslie was overwhelmed by being in the middle of all the money, fame and demented people that showed up every year for the artist gentleman’s club New Year’s Eve Party, and, secondly, Leslie was not letting go of his hand. He was on shore for the holidays and did not want to miss a second with Fran.

Fran curled into his lover’s arms, ignoring the stares. Enough of the artists had brought their lovers to the party that one more gay couple did not matter. The stares were for Leslie being a sailor. Some artists were anti-military, but the majority of London still remembered the sirens. Only a year had passed since the war ended. Most were staring because they were trying to figure out a way to approach Leslie to thank him for serving.

Unconsciously Fran clenched Leslie’s hand tighter. They had met during training, but Fran’s family money had gotten him an officer position on shore and a quick muster out after serving his time. Leslie’s more plebeian descent had him on the front for over five years. Fran did not want to remember how often he nearly lost the love of his life. Ships were safer than ground pounding, but it also meant everyone died on the same bullet instead of an individual.

One more tour and they could be together forever.

Fran hoped that Leslie’s flamboyant style will allow him to overcome the status differences. Fran cared less about his personal wealth, but sometimes, like tonight, Leslie was clearly intimidated. The duke, whose title allowed him to disregard certain social requirements such as introductions, did express his gratitude to Leslie and had left his lover speechless.

The artist part of Fran’s mind started thinking about how to capture both an ostentatious and terrified attitude in one painting. On first pass, they do not seem to go together, but anyone who has been on the front could tell you both the sheer terror and the pure courage needed to be there.

***

Leslie guided Fran off the dance floor towards the bar when the song ended. He recognized the look that had seized Fran’s face. They would need to get home soon to Fran’s paints.

Leslie squashed the green monster from long habit when jealousy tried to sneak in. He only had two more days before pulling out and he had nearly ten days of Fran’s undivided attention. When he got back next time, he would need to decide if he could live as the second love of Fran’s life.

(words 449 – I believe the copyright on the photo is expired. If anyone knows that the copyright is different than public domain, please inform me – first published 12/30/2012; republished new blog format 12/11/2016)

Flash: Lonely on the Road

Empty Countryside Road Stock Photo

Image Courtesy of Vichaya Kiatying-Angsulee at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Rating: Mature

Twisting the wrench yielded no results, so Kelly kicked the rental’s tire and walked along the berm cursing herself, her uncharged phone, and, most especially, Jim. She adjusted her purse’s shoulder strap after tucking the wrench inside and headed north along the isolated highway. The last exit was 5 miles back, the next exit was promised to be only 3 miles forward.

Why had she decided to surprise Jim? Sure his corporate construction job kept him away a month at a time wherever a new facility needed building, but the weekends he came home were magical. With the long weekend, she had thought to bring the magic to him.

Well, the surprise was on her. She had known he shared rooms with other guys to cut costs. But she hadn’t known he had shared his bed. Her mind’s eye briefly flashed a picture of the two men she found wrestling in his unlocked bedroom. Two suntanned muscular bodies naked and humping madly.

For a second her imagination added her between the males. Okay, a threesome was her favorite masturbation fantasy.

But the point was Jim was cheating on her! He could have told her he was bi and she could have handled it. Loved to have handled it. Since hooking up with him, she had been monogamous. For three years she had been with only one man; it was kind-of creepy after nicks she had put into her bedpost before they had gotten together. Keeping faithful though didn’t mean she hadn’t looked or wanted more. Kelly could have provided him all sorts of suggestions for male booty calls.

Focus. Cheating. Doesn’t matter if it is male or female, it is still cheating.

Behind her a car beeped. Kelly turned around to see Jim’s beatup pickup pulling over, scattering the gravel. She gave him the single finger salute while he unbuckled and continued walking away.

His long legs ate up the distance. “Kelly wait! Damn it, I’m sorry. It doesn’t mean anything. Wait, Kelly.” He got a little ahead and started walking backwards in front of her. “I didn’t want you to find out that way.”

“So how did you want me to find out?” Kelly stopped to save all her breath to yell at him.

Jim stopped too, scratching the back of his head. His jeans hung low, showcasing his six-pack and a little more. He hadn’t bothered to grab a shirt before following her, or put on shoes. That gravel had to hurt.

“Actually, never,” he admitted.

“Finally something honest!”

He looked hurt. “I’m always honest.”

“Except about sleeping around,” Kelly accused.

“Umm, I never lied about it, I just never mentioned it.”

She closed the distance to hiss up into his face. “The truth, the WHOLE truth and nothing but the truth.”

Pushing his chest she demanded “What? Am I suppose to have you swear on a stack of bibles every time you came home?!!”

Muscle-bound ape that he was, her push didn’t rock him, but he took a step back from her fury anyway. “…No?” he responded, clearly hoping it was the right answer.

“Damn right, no.” Kelly pushed her hair back so she could look up and watch his face while she stood toe-to-toe. She kept encroaching into his space. “A relationship is about trust. I don’t care how much I love you, but if I can’t trust you – we got nothing.”

She stepped around him and started stomping north again. “Kelly, don’t be this way,” he begged trotting after her. “It doesn’t mean anything.” He grabbed her arm to stop her.

“So how long have you been sleeping with him?” Kelly turned back to him to stare him in the eye. “And don’t lie to me now – I will wash your briefs with the red towels.”

His mouth stopped half-way opened. He closed it a second, sighed, and admitted. “Luis and I have been bunkmates for about nine months now.”

“Bunkmates?” Kelly laughed harshly. “Is that what they call it now? … And who was before him.”

“I don’t know, Carlo, maybe.” Jim shrugged. “I don’t really keep track.”

Her eyes grew round. They had started trying for a child a year ago.

“Oh, no, no. Sweetheart, I always use a condom, and I get tested twice a year. I ain’t stupid.”

“Could have fooled me,” she said icily, putting her hands on her hips. “So do you only cheat on me with guys?”

He stood up straighter, looking indigent. “I’ve never cheated on you. Not ever. Yeah, I sleep with guys, but I don’t love them or anything. It’s just sex. And loneliness, a whole lot of loneliness when you are not around.”

Kelly rolled her eyes. “Been saving that one up?”

“Nope, just kind-of came to me,” Jim smiled boyishly. “Good though, right?”

Damn, why did she have to love him so much. “Yep, that was pretty good. … Only guys, right?”

“You are the only girl for me. In fact, …” He yanked the back of his jeans up and down a bit before kneeling in front of her. “Will you marry me?”

In his hands was a dark blue velvet box. He opened it to reveal a Marzin cut diamond surrounded by a rainbow of precious smaller gems.

She looked at the box, then him kneeling in gravel, then at the box again. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“No joke. I made the last payment yesterday. Been working on buying it since we started this project and saw it at the mall.” Smiling hopefully he added, “I’m glad fate let me have it available at the right time.”

“That is another great line Jimbo.” Kelly sighed as she gently closed the box in his hands. “But until we work out other things, this will have to wait.”

Jim sagged. “So you are leaving me?”

“I didn’t say that either.” She offered him an arm to help him stand. “Let’s go back to the hotel. I want to meet this Luis and we can all have a good talk.”

 (words 1,009- first published 5/7/2013; republished new blog format 11/06/2016)

Release Announcement: WeAreNotThis – Carolina Writers for Equality

WeAreNotThis is out. One of my short stories was accepted into this charity anthology.

Some things have happened this year to make me … exasperated with the government of my adopted home state of North Carolina. The people are amazing. The state beautiful. The NC Legislature needs to learn (pardon FDR for the rip-off) the only thing to hate is hate itself.

https://www.amazon.com/We-Are-Not-This-Carolina-ebook/dp/B01M5FVA7A/

We Are Not This Cover Art

Flash: Special Night

Young Man Stock Art

Image courtesy of Freedigitalphotos.net

“You are going through with this, aren’t you?” Rober accused Drew.

Drew ran around the kitchen doing last minute preparations; he couldn’t believe Rober had cut his business trip short to revisit the argument he thought settled two months ago. He wouldn’t have started the down this path if he didn’t believe he had Rober’s full support. “It’s the only way with the new laws.”

“Damn politicians need to get out of the bedroom.”

“It’s not the bedroom that is the issue, it’s the nursery.” Drew pulled out the chicken breasts to lay a couple slices of Swiss cheese on them and pour a splash of wine before returning the entrée to the oven. “And society has the responsibility to regulate the care and training of its future members.”

“The only reason to restrict artificial insemination to married couples it to keep gays from making babies.” Rober growled. He bit back several curses about republicans and conservative values, knowing Drew’s adamant support of tradition, even after a decade under the military’s don’t ask-don’t tell. Or was that especially after serving an institution that specialized in hating homosexual and brainwashing its members?

“True. And in a couple years it will tumble because of the discrimination. Already single women everywhere are fighting the law.”

“Then wait … or go to Canada. Or Europe.” Rober begged.

Drew shook his head as he carried the salad to the formally set table. “No, I want our child to be an American.”

“It’s not our child!” Rober grabbed the smaller, but stronger man by the shoulders. “We can’t have children. It will be you and this slut.”

Drew broke away. “Brie is not a slut.”

“Prostitute, then. She will be having sex for money.”

“Because it is the only way!”

“No, it’s not.” Rober countered. “We could adopt.”

“I want at least one my own child, not someone else’s.” Drew said firmly, adding some bread to the oven for final warming. “We can adopt a couple more later, but I want one of mine now.”

“Hypocrite. You talk about overpopulation but are just adding to the problem when thousands of children are looking for dads.”

“And you know how hard it is for a single person to adopt. I’ve been trying ever since I left the Navy. Somehow I never qualify.” Drew’s sarcastic tone admitted he knew why he didn’t qualify even after serving two tours in the Mid-East.

“So you are just going to pay a woman to have sex and carry your kid.” Rober threw up his hands. “That is just sick and obsessive.”

The doorbell rang as they stared daggers at each other.

“Guess that is your whore. Have fun tonight.”

Rober popped the collar of his sweater and stalked out the glass doors leading to their deck and down to the bench. He didn’t look back.

(474 words – originally appearing at Breathless Press 10/21/13 for the 8/5/12 Sunday Fun and published on Erin Penn’s First Base blog on 11/3/2013. Republished under the new format for 1/10/2016.)\