When Billy smiled, the red sauce from the meatball sandwich on his upper lip grew wider and thinner. “I thought so, too,” he said. “I guess I’ll start tomorrow. I had a few meatballs left over from last weekend and didn’t want them to go to waste.”

Gage gave him an affectionate punch in the upper arm and said, “That’s what you always say. Fuck, Billy, I worry about you, man.” He started walking toward the backroom. He didn’t have time to stop and talk for long if he was going to take a nap.

Billy stopped slicing the cheese and lifted the sandwich. “If you ask me, you could use a sandwich like this instead of an apple.” Then he closed his eyes and bit into the sandwich with such absolute delight his eyelids fluttered.

Gage pushed the back screen door open and said, “I probably could use a few pounds, Billy. But they don’t like fat male strippers where I work. They want them young and skinny. Besides, I’m so used to starving I’ve forgotten how to eat a real meal.”

Billy knew Gage was gay and he knew what Gage did for a living and he never judged him on a moral level. But Billy often told him he had to start thinking about his future and what he was going to do with the rest of his life when it was time to stop stripping. Billy swallowed and said, “You never know. You might make more money if you put a little meat on that skinny ass. I know this guy who loves big women. Can’t get enough of them.”

“Yeah, well, most gay guys like young skinny asses better than fat asses, trust me.” Gage laughed and said, “In gay weight, I’m probably five pounds too heavy right now.”

Billy shrugged and rested the meatball sandwich on the counter. “By the way, Mr. Bousum stopped by to see you earlier.”

Gage stopped and frowned. “Did he say why?” Bousum was the landlord; no one knew his first name. They even wrote the rent checks out to “Mr. Bousum.” He rarely paid personal visits to his building. Gage always mailed him the rent check and they communicated mostly through e-mails or phone calls.

Billy started slicing more American cheese. “I asked if he had a message but he said he’d come back later and talk to you. Did you miss a rent check? If you’re having problems, I can advance you.”

“I’m good, thanks,” Gage said. “I’m all paid up.”

“I’ll let you know if he comes back today,” Billy said. He didn’t look up. He was concentrating on the slicing machine and didn’t want to lose another finger. He’d already lost part of his right middle finger the first year he’d opened the grocery store.

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Gage smiled and stepped outside. “I’ll see you later, Billy. I have to get some sleep before I go to work.” He wouldn’t see Billy until morning. By the time he left for work at night, Billy would already be home with his wife, eating a huge bowl of ice cream.

“See you in the morning, kid,” Billy said.

Gage climbed the back steps two at a time, thinking about his visit with Luis. A small part of him had been hoping Luis had changed and that maybe there was hope for them as brothers. But after the way Luis had treated him that afternoon, he knew they’d never be close and there was no use trying.

When he slipped the key into the lock, he found the door to his apartment was already unlocked. He waited for a moment, trying to remember if he’d forgotten to lock the door before he’d left earlier that day. He turned the knob and pushed the door open slowly. It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, but anything could happen in New York. He stepped inside and flipped on the kitchen light switch next to the door. When he looked up, he saw Donny sitting in a club chair at the far end of the living room bedroom area.

Donny Vitelli was a guy he’d been dating regularly for about two years now, a NYC cop with thick black hair, a husky muscular body, and size thirteen feet. He stood over six feet, four inches in his bare feet and he could lift Gage up over his head and carry him around without breaking a sweat.

Gage closed the door behind him and said, “What are you doing here? I thought someone broke in. You scared me to death.” He tossed his keys on a chipped Formica counter and gazed around at his shabby, dismal surroundings. After coming from Luis’s perfectly appointed townhouse on the Upper West Side, this place looked like a dump.

“Billy let me in,” Donny said. “I asked him not to say anything. I wanted to surprise my hot young blond boy on my way to work. I don’t have to be in until eight tonight.” He stood from the chair and walked to where Gage was standing in the kitchen area. He didn’t wear a police uniform to work. Donny was a plainclothes detective and he usually wore a dark suit and tie. He rested his large palms on Gage’s small waist and said, “You look nice today. Where were you?”

Gage lifted his arms and rested his hands on Donny’s broad shoulders. He inhaled and smiled. Donny always used the same spicy aftershave and by the end of the day it had mingled with his own masculine scent, creating an aroma that made Gage’s legs go weak. “I went to a charity event in the West Village this afternoon with a friend who is into helping unwed mothers who leave their babies in Dumpsters and on doorsteps.” He didn’t want to lie. But he didn’t mention the name of the organization, nor did he mention he’d gone to see his identical twin brother who was now married to the Virgin Billionaire. Donny was one of those good-natured types who believed anything Gage told him. Though Gage could have taken advantage of this many times, he never did.

Donny’s head went down and he kissed Gage’s neck. He pulled him closer and his hands went down to Gage’s ass. “Did you have fun?”

Gage laced his fingers at the back of Donny’s neck and tipped his head to the side so Donny would continue kissing his neck. Donny was big and awkward and all man. He had a thick, dark beard. His five o’clock shadow began to surface an hour after he shaved. “I would have come back sooner if I’d known you’d be here this afternoon. I thought I wouldn’t see you again until this weekend.” Donny worked long, odd hours. That particular week he was working every night on some kind of a sting that involved a pedophile somewhere in Manhattan. He never discussed his work in detail because it was considered classified information. But he did offer basic information, which usually kept Gage up worrying at night, probably more than if he’d known exactly what Donny was doing.

Donny squeezed his ass and said, “I thought I’d stop by before I went to work and tap that ass. I also thought I’d bring you a little present.” He stepped back, pulled a small box out of his suit jacket pocket, and handed it to Gage.




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