After they came, Gage lowered his legs. Donny kissed him and fell on top of him again, remaining inside until he’d deposited everything he had to offer. A minute or two later, Donny pulled out and climbed off the bed. Gage took one look at him, standing beside the bed naked, and laughed.
Donny bent down and started searching for his underwear. “What are you laughing at?”
Gage climbed out of bed to help him find his clothes. He switched on a small lamp beside the bed and said, “You look like one of those big, confused football players who can’t find his jock strap on the locker room floor.”
Donny dropped his boxer shorts and reached for Gage’s slim waist. He pulled Gage up against his slightly hairy chest with a rough jerk, and wrapped his arms around him. “Is there anything wrong with that? Last time I wore a jock strap you couldn’t stop chewing it.”
Gage tried to push him away, but Donny was far too strong for him and Donny knew it. “Let go of me, you big idiot. We both have to get dressed.” Sometimes he liked playing around this way more than the actual sex they shared. There was an unspoken connection between them, creating a sense of urgency and subliminal ecstasy at the same time—something Gage would have had trouble explaining to anyone. But he knew it was there; he could feel the connection through every nerve ending in his body whenever Donny touched his flesh. Yet they’d never actually defined their relationship in words. They’d never made plans for the future to live together as a couple and they’d never spoken a word about where they were going to wind up eventually. It was partly because Donny was afraid of coming out of the closet and partly because Gage wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to commit to one man. So it was better to leave things unsaid for the time being. The relationship worked well without having to talk too much about it.
Donny kissed him one last time that night, then slapped Gage’s ass hard and pushed him back. He picked up his underwear and socks at the same time and started to get dressed for work. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Donny said. “I’m working late every night this week until we wrap up this case.”
“I’ll get dressed and walk you downstairs,” Gage said. “Billy has probably closed the store by now and I’ll let you out.”
But when they went downstairs and Gage unlocked the door to the shop, he found his landlord, Mr. Bousum, standing outside. If Gage had known ahead of time, he would have put on a shirt and a pair of shoes.
Mr. Bousum cracked a thin, crooked smile and said, “I’ve been calling you all day but you didn’t answer. I have to talk to you about something very important.”
“I’ve never been a slave to my cell phone,” Gage said, folding his arms across his chest, staring down at Mr. Bousum.
Then the landlord and Donny exchanged glances and Donny said goodnight to Gage. Gage didn’t introduce Donny to the landlord and Donny didn’t seem to care. Gage’s landlord was an older gay man and Gage knew there was no need to explain why Donny had come to visit.
When Donny was down the street and out of listening distance, Mr. Bousum sent Gage a smirk. He glanced over his shoulder, watching Donny head down the street with heavy steps, and said, “You certainly are a lucky young man. That guy is the great dark man who never comes along that Quentin Crisp was talking about years ago. I’d hold on to him for as long as I could, if I were you.” He spoke with a quiver in his voice that was almost as thin as his lips.
Gage had no idea what he was talking about. He’d never heard of Quentin Crisp. He didn’t feel very lucky that night, especially not after his visit with this twin brother. If anything, Gage felt slightly insulted by the way Mr. Bousum was referring to Donny as a piece of meat. “He’s a very good friend, Mr. Bousum.” He wanted to tell the old goat Donny was a highly respected detective in the NYPD, but didn’t want to out Donny by accident.
Mr. Bousum ran his thin fingers across his long narrow jaw and smiled. “I’m sure he’s a very good friend.” Then he looked up and down at Donny’s half-naked body and laughed.
Donny folded his arms across his bare chest and frowned. “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Bousum?” He knew his rent was paid for the next two weeks. He had no idea why Bousum was there.
“Can I step inside for a moment?” the old man asked. He was wearing his typical brown tweed jacket and brown wool slacks. Gage would have guessed neither had been dry cleaned in years. All he needed were a pair of suede elbow patches to finish the look of eccentric old queen with a snarky attitude and quick, vicious tongue.
Gage stepped aside and gestured the old man into the dark grocery store. “I’m afraid I don’t have much time, Mr. Bousum. I have to be at work soon.”
The old man stepped into the store and turned to face him. “This won’t take long. I’m afraid your lease is up at the end of the month and I’m going to have to ask you to vacate the apartment. I tried e-mailing you two weeks ago, but you never replied.”
Gage’s heart dropped to his stomach. His face grew hot and he pressed his palm to his chest. He hadn’t checked his e-mail account in over a month. He didn’t own a computer and he went to the library to check e-mails once every two weeks. And there was never anything very important. “Leave?”
“I’m afraid so,” Mr. Bousum said. “It’s nothing personal. I explained everything in the e-mails. My disabled niece needs an apartment and I can’t say no. She’s deaf and mute and doesn’t go out often. Her mother, my sister, is re-marrying and we all think it’s best for my niece to have a place of her own now. She can’t afford much. She’s on permanent government disability. So I said she could take your apartment.”
Gage took a step back. His heart began to race. “But you can’t give her my apartment. Give her the apartment on the third floor. No one goes up there. It’s been vacant for years.” He kept his voice low and even, but a sense of panic started to build so fast he felt lightheaded. He’d never be able to find an apartment this cheap in New York. Even if he could afford something else, he’d never be able to find it in such a short period of time.
The old man shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t let her use the apartment on the third floor. It’s where I store all my things.”
“Can you put your things in storage?” Gage asked. “If your niece is disabled, I can look out for her if she’s in the third-floor apartment.”