Dreams

Trevor’d opted to avoid the obvious holiday costuming so many of the revelers dancing at Snayque’s were wearing. A red tee shirt was good enough for him. Ragged jeans and a tee shirt. He was practically a bum, but he’d found it hard to get motivated to glam up to his usual degree of immaculate turnout. Hell, he hadn’t even spiked or glittered his bleach-tipped blond hair.

He didn’t feel like cruising after all. He felt like sitting alone at the bar and drinking himself numb. He’d spent the day in lonely introspection and was disheartened by the realization that he was tired. Tired of cruising and tired of being alone.

There wasn’t a single soul in whom he’d feel comfortable confiding the fears that had nagged him all day. That, in and of itself, was near the top of the list of scary things he’d admitted to himself that day.

He had more acquaintances than he could count and more hookups in his history than he wanted to tally. There were several he called friends, but were they really? If he didn’t feel comfortable opening up and really talking about his hopes, dreams, and fears with someone, were they really a friend? Hell, he felt more comfortable talking with his co-workers than his so-called friends.

The pilsner in front of him was empty, and he signaled the barkeeper for another beer. A fresh glass was placed in front of him, but he didn’t get the chance to pick it up before his thoughts were interrupted by a voice that reflexively got his back up.

“Hey there.” The voice was irritatingly cheerful. “Trevor, isn’t it?”

“Fuck you, Quinn.”

Trevor didn’t bother turning to look at the man but could sense his continued presence. Fuck. Most men would know enough to leave someone the hell alone after a greeting like that, but not Quinn. Fuck no. Fucking cowboy just stood there.

Scratch that. He sat down on the next barstool.

“Well now, I guess I could take it as a good sign that you know my name.”

Christ. Trevor turned to level a scorching look at his new arch enemy. “And do you take the ‘fuck you’ as a good sign too—Quinn?”

Quinn had the audacity to look puzzled but grinned through it. “Was it a request?”

Trevor choked. And sputtered. Was Quinn obtuse? He certainly had some big hairy balls. “What are you, insane as well as a liar? Leave me the hell alone. You’ve done enough damage.”

Trevor turned back to his beer, determined to simply ignore Quinn until the man left. Except Quinn didn’t leave. He settled in with a beer of his own and then had the nerve to bring up the issue himself.

“So you have a thing for that Marty fella, don’t you?”

“Fuck off.”

“What, you don’t want to fuck me anymore?”

Christ. “Leave me the hell alone, Quinn.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Trevor, but Marty loves that Larry dude. Larry’s a nice enough little guy. They seem like a pretty sweet couple to me.”

That was too much. Trevor spun to face Quinn. “That why you made out with the little cheater in the restroom then lied to Marty about it?” Trevor felt his face heating up as his temper rose. “I accept now that Marty will never care for me like that, but he still deserves someone who’ll be true to him.” Trevor wanted that last sentence back as soon as it was out. What in the world had possessed him to admit that to fucking Quinn, of all people?

“I don’t lie, Trevor.” Quinn remained maddeningly calm. “I told Marty the truth about what happened with Larry.”

Yeah, right. That comment wasn’t even worth acknowledging. Trevor rolled his eyes and turned back to his beer.

“You wanna know what happened?”

No, just go away.

“I was cruisin’ last night and thought that little dude, Larry, was kinda sweet lookin’. I also thought he was alone. Ran into him on the way to the bathroom and put a move on him. Thought he was interested, but he’s just kinda green—inexperienced in the cruising scene. He didn’t realize I was gonna kiss him ’til I did. He pushed me away as soon as I started, but you walked in right at that moment.”

Shit. The little mouse did seem pretty naïve. Trevor didn’t say anything, still hoping Quinn would take the hint and leave him alone.

No such luck. Quinn continued. “So your timing sucked. I can see why you thought what you did, but it wasn’t like that. Poor little guy was practically hysterical and thought he’d get dumped. Figured the least I could do was explain things to his boyfriend and hope I wouldn’t get punched out for my efforts.”

Jesus, Quinn did have some big hairy balls. Trevor couldn’t think of a single one of his ‘friends’ who would have made that right. They’d have thought it was funny and left Larry to deal with the fallout himself.

Trevor sighed and stared at his glass as if the amber liquid in it was the most interesting thing he’d seen in years. “Guess that was nice of you then.”

“You thought you were doing the right thing too. You were wrong, but you thought you were saving your friend from a bad relationship choice.”

Had that been his motivation? Most people who knew him would’ve come up with a more selfish reason for his actions. Quinn was right, though. He’d already begun to accept that Marty had finally fallen for someone and that it wasn’t him.

There might have been a glimmer of hope Marty’d switch his affections to Trevor after ditching Larry, but mostly? Yeah, Trevor’d just wanted to make sure Marty didn’t get hurt more in the long run by continuing a relationship with someone who’d cheat on him.

Trevor shrugged his shoulders in reply. Something about Quinn made it easy to confide things he’d regret later, so he kept his mouth shut.

“You’re going about it all wrong, you know.”

Going about what all wrong? “Mind your own business, Quinn.”

“How’re you going to attract someone who loves you if you hide who you really are behind all that phony attitude?”

That was all Trevor could stand. He pushed his beer away, pissed because he was nowhere near numb yet, slapped some bills down on the bar, and left.