Two Months Later

I didn’t have a favorite gay bar, because in general, I didn’t even like gay bars. They tended to cater to niches—bears, queens, bikers, whatever you could find scraping under the cabinets of Los Angeles’ kitchen. But there was no lack of them, especially in West Hollywood, and if drinking and fucking were my only two priorities, I found what I needed at every one. The drinking part was the easiest, but sometimes I had a little trouble with the fucking. I was my own niche, and not everyone’s cup of tea. Josh and Sven were stealthy; I was not. I could have made up for it if I had a great body, but I didn’t. So what I had left was personality and charisma. I could flirt my way out of anything (except maybe speeding tickets), but I was often described as intense, and the heavy black eye shadow I always applied probably didn’t help.

The bar I picked that night was pretty low-key without being nasty, which was hard to find. There was no dancing, just a lot of friends and couples squeezed into tables and booths, drinking custom concoctions with weird names like Pink Gem and Dark Purpose. I couldn’t afford anything but the very basic, so I ordered a tallboy of PBR and nursed it as I tried to cast discrete looks around the bar. The selection wasn’t great, and so far I didn’t catch any interested parties ogling me.

The door swung open, and I turned to look at the newcomers. To my surprise, I recognized them. It would be hard not to: two of them were the identical twins from the band Pugnacious. Trailing behind them was Peaches, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

“Hey,” I said, loud enough to carry over the conversations of others. All three of them turned to me. “You three playing here or what?”

“Do I know you?” Oliver asked. Unlike me, he had no issue getting the attention of nearly everyone there.

“We briefly met a few months ago at a show. My friend Sven introduced us.”

“Justin,” Peaches told Oliver.

“Not ringing a bell. But clearly Peaches remembers you.” Oliver glanced over his shoulder at his friend. “He’s better at faces than I am.”

“What are you guys doing here if you aren’t playing?”

The three stepped over to the bar, and Oliver made himself at home on the stool next to me. Before I could hold out some hope that he was batting for my team, he said, “Peaches has been moping around the house for the past two weeks, so we dragged him out here in hopes it might cheer him up a bit.” Oliver reached over to clap Peaches on the back. Peaches seemed to barely tolerate the gesture. “Sit down, dude. Geez, you look like you’re in pain.”

“I didn’t really want to come here.”

“Too fucking bad. Sit. Drink. Stop looking so pathetic. You’re driving me nuts.”

Peaches rolled his eyes but sat down on the other side of Oliver. Griffin, who seemed to be the less talkative twin, already started ordering drinks for them.

“So how do gay bars work?” Oliver asked, making no effort to keep his voice down.

“Like any other bar.”

“I assume it’s a lot easier to get laid though.”

“Probably.”

“Shit.” Oliver pulled off his baseball cap to swipe his hair back before shoving the cap back down. Somehow he made the gesture seem alluring. “Shoulda been born gay.”

“Shut up,” Griffin chided. “You get laid more than any straight dude I know.”

Oliver smirked and winked at me, which made me snort. He seemed to sit halfway between arrogant and confident, a good quality to have around people interested in boning you. I could see why women liked him, if his looks weren’t enough of a reason.

“Griffin doesn’t do too bad. This sucker though—” Oliver jammed his thumb toward Peaches. “He couldn’t flirt his way out of cardboard box. Can you believe that I picked out his outfit tonight? It’s like I’m his sassy gay friend.”

“You sure know how to sell me, Oliver,” Peaches replied.

“Oh shit, I’m supposed to be selling you?”

“Fuck you, Oliver.” Peaches accepted a beer and took a sip.

“He seemed really cool when I talked to him,” I offered, because I wasn’t sure how much of Oliver’s teasing was welcome, and I wanted to lend Peaches a hand.

“Yeah, he’s cool I guess.”

“You two should go someplace else,” Peaches muttered, “if all you’re gonna do is give me a hard time.”

“We just ordered drinks. I’m not leaving until I finish it.”

So while Peaches miserably sipped at his own beer, Griffin and Oliver carried on their own conversation with me. More and more I saw why women liked them. I liked them, and I tended to avoid straight guys if I could, at least when they weren’t drunk and feeling bicurious. Oliver and Griffin didn’t seem to mind my overt mannerisms, but hanging around Peaches’s boyfriend probably made them immune to an occasional limp wrist. In fact, by the time Oliver finished his beer, he was halfway flirtatious, in that casual way men were to women they’d never fuck.

“I suppose I’ve taken up enough of your time,” Oliver finally said, wrapping his knuckles on the bar. “Peaches is still sitting over there brooding, so Griffin and I are gonna split and take a walk. Peaches, you stay here and chat with your brethren. Or scowl at your drink. Just drink enough to loosen up, alright?”

“You are seriously leaving?”

“Not forever, just an hour or so. Griffin and I got some shit to do, but you’re better off here.” Oliver reached out and patted Peaches on the back. “Throw down some beers. You need it.”

Peaches sighed and didn’t argue, and with a lazy salute at me, the twins left. In their absence was an awkward silence, and I wasn’t sure how to proceed. I knew how to be flirtatious and charming, but Peaches didn’t seem like he was in the mood for it.

“Something wrong?” I asked him, because I couldn’t help but be curious.

“I broke up with my boyfriend,” Peaches said, so readily that I wondered if he’d been waiting for me to ask.

“Oh geez, that fucking sucks.”

“Yeah.” Peaches kept staring at his beer bottle before finally dropping his head into his hands. “Ugh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a grumpy dick.”

“No, it’s understandable. Break ups suck ass. Do you mind me asking how it happened?”

“I’m a dumb ass.”

“That’s it?”

“Mostly.” He glanced at me. “It’s really not that interesting.”

“So… no cheating scandal?”

“No.” He shook his head, and the look on his face made me move down a stool so that we sat side by side. Fuck me, I always had a thing for slightly broken people. I normally had no interest in wallflowers, but Peaches seemed like a nice guy, and I enjoyed his friends and fellow band members. It wasn’t like I had any attention from other men in this joint.

“Wanna talk bout it?”

“You barely know me. You don’t wanna hear about my drama.”

“Oh, I love hearing about other people’s drama, because it’s not my own.” I lifted my beer and took a sip. “Order another drink and let’s talk.”