Was he ready to talk? Claude had asked so abruptly, and his tone denoted a sliver of annoyance. James turned to him, unsure of how or what he was to reply. Was he angry? What is it that he wants from me?James’s thought to himself. What exactly were the two of us going to discuss anyways? 

“You can say no… Though I’d rather just get it over with,” confirmed Claude, his eyes still fixed to the road.

“I don’t know what there is there to say,” replied James, decidedly looking out the passenger’s window, seeing the familiar tress whisk pass by. Claude was driving back towards the house. “But if we’re going to have that ‘talk’ let’s not have it at the house.”

“Why not?” 

“The other priest is there, or he might be there...”

“Don’t want him listening in?” 

“You know I don’t. No one can know what happened…” 

“Why? Are you suddenly ashamed of it?” 

“It’s not that I’m ashamed—“

“Don’t want to be seen with a man? Or an omega? Which one is it?” 

“Claude, please, this isn’t—“

“No, I get it, it’s a little bit of both.”

It was obvious that lack of transparency and the curt avoidance by James had struck a nerve with Claude. Even as his face remained fixed ahead of him and his gestures remained set to driving, the tenor to his voice and choice use words made it evidentially clear that his pride had been hurt. James did not feel shame, nor did he want to request Claude adhere to his own barriers; no—what James felt was not shame but something more akin to guilt. “… I’m a priest. What we-what I did, it’s against everything I swore to adhere to. I’m already in hot water with the diocese and if they found out that we were even in a room alone together they’ll…” James’s voice trailed off as he pressed his hand to his mouth. It hurt. Claude’s comments were articulated in malicious jest, but they struck harder than James had anticipated. Claude was right. It was both shame and guilt. 

       For moment, silence befell over the two men, Claude reached a stop sign and sat there for a moment with only the engine rumbling as soundtrack to this odd drive. James turned to Claude confused but the omega remained with his eyes adhered onto the road. His hands tapped on the steering wheel and his left reg bounced quickly. He bit his bottom lip with a far-off stare. “Claude?” James asked cautiously. The young man was acting strange. 

“A second… I’m thinking.” He replied with a deadpan, now drumming his fingers. They sat a bit longer at the stop sign till suddenly, Claude shifted gears. He reversed and then spun the wheel changing lanes into the opposite direction. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I know a place.” 

“What are you talking about? What place?” 

“A place to chat. I think I get it now. You’re not doing anything later right? It’s Sunday, day of rest and all that.” 

“…”

“Is that a yes? Because I’m getting on the highway.”

“Wait. Where are you going?”

“ We are going to a place where we won’t be alone and can talk unnoticed. Even if we are noticed, there isn’t much they can say,”  Claude revved up the engine and sped onto the exit towards Atlanta. A small smirk occupied the corner of his mouth as he jolted onto the highway. The sudden change in pace instinctively made James grab onto the handle of the car. “Don’t worry it’s not far. Just a block away from my place. You got your ID? I know you’re of age, but they sometimes ask.” 

“Claude, please slowdown. Where are we even going?”

“A little hole in the wall called the Temperance. Don’t worry its members only.”  Claude smiled toothily, still staring at the road, and zooming on the fast lane. James continued to sit bewildered. What is he on about?

Quickly changing multiple lanes-and almost causing James a heart attack-Claude took an exit out from the highway and into the downtown. It had been years since James had stepped foot into the city. It had changed. The streets were bustling with people despite the dramatic change of the landscape. The Atlanta of today was much rougher than the one of his childhood. The streets were cracked and large metaling railing hungover the windows of shops. Yet, the dozens of people on the street entering and exiting neon-clad shops and the noise from children clapping, playing double Dutch filled James with an overwhelming warmth. James smiled as he saw a young couple of differing race walking together hand in hand while pulling a baby stroller. This would have caused a riot just ten years prior in the South, but it seemed that times were changing, even here. 

“We’re almost there. I wanna park near my place.” 

“You live here?” James asked with a raised brow. It may have changed but it still wasn’t the safest part of town. 

“I know. It’s a bit rough but it’s close to school and my internship. Plus, the rent’s low and I’m close to the bars.”  Flashing on his signal, Claude pulled up close the curb of the street and smoothly parked in between two cars. The movement was fluid and seemed easy despite the size of the muscle car. James was impressed. He turned off the ignition and exited the car. James exited too. “Make sure to lock the passenger’s side.” James did as he was told and jimmied the handle. It was locked. “ Good, follow me. It’s just down the road then left.” 

Of course, the city felt more different than when it was a small town from his childhood. Even walking down, the street James took note of the clothes people were wearing. People wore bright colored fashions and carried a freshness that he had not long been exposed to. They dressed much hipper and vibrant than those up North. Women’s hair was big and blonde, defying gravity with deep tans and light lipsticks. The men wore thick mustaches like Claude’s and pastel shirts that seemed both hot and stylish. But what James noticed immediately were the faces of many ethnicities and genders simply talking to one another and seemingly, having a good time. “It’s been about ten years since I’ve been here,” spoke James walking a bit faster to keep with Claude’s pace. Claude smiled and moved his sunglasses up in top of his head, pushing his hair back. His face turned to James and asked, “That long huh? What do you think of it now?” 

James blushed a bit, it was easier speaking with him with the glasses on. “It’s different. In a good way. It looks livelier and more like the places I tend to like.” 

“Oh? Like where? Okay, here we turn left.” 

It was an alley, small and smelly between two brick buildings. James stayed put, unsure of exactly where Claude was taking him. Claude turned back to James and made of movement as if to hurry up and follow him. James Reluctantly followed Claude to a dingy door near the end of the alley way. He knocked on it and took a step back as the door slowly crept open. A tough large man looked at Claude then at James then back to Claude. “Is he with you?”

“Duh. He’s a guest,” replied Claude coolly. While James found Claude’s sass charming, it made him nervous when played against a man twice his width. It had been a while since James got into a fight.

“One of your new friends?”

“What’s it you Bartie?” he replied with even more acidity in his tone. Thankfully, the beast of the man whose name appeared to be Bartie simply laughed and waved both in. 

       Past the doors and its guardian, was an old flight upstairs leading into a noisy second floor. The stairs and railing were all painted back, and the walls were decorated in a deep forest green wallpaper that would’ve been popular in the 1800s. At the top of the stairs was another door, painted a deep maroon with golden handles. Claude turned the knob then entered the noisy joint while James followed closely behind. The bar looked like something from the prohibition era. A long bar stretched to one side of the room and the rest of the space was made of small, intimate booths with little to no lighting. A very camp man sat at the piano playing a cheery tune but turned and waved to Claude quickly before turning back to his music. Claude waved back and said “Take that corner booth near Betty. The music will stop soon. Does Tom Collins sound good?” Disoriented by the strange ambiance and darkened setting, James simply nodded and walked over to the booth. He sat with his back to Betty and facing the bar. He could see Claude talking to the blonde bar tender who poured two drinks and scowled once to Claude and then to James. How strange, James said to himself. 

       Just as he had said, Bartie had come up stairs and pulled Betty away from the piano right when Claude set their drinks down. “Here’s yours,” he stated pushing forward a tall glass and sliding to the seat opposite of James. “Poor Betty always gets kicked out when he gets like this.” James took a small sip of his drink watching the herculean Bartie pick up Betty and set him down on a bar stool where a glass of water had been waiting. Betty pouted and crossed his arms seemingly refusing to take a sip. Instead, Betty pushed his face upwards, closed his eyes and pointed towards his lips. Bartie rolled his eyes, leaned down, and gave the camp man a quick peck on the lips. Betty smiled and took a swig of his drink. James watched paralyzed and turned his gaze to Claude. 

“Claude, where are we?”

Claude nonchalantly replied, “A gay bar. No, more like a gay pub?”

James felt the color drain from his face. What the fuck? “Claude why have you taken me here? If I am even caught—"

“Well, here everyone is like us. Isn’t this a better place to actually talk?”

“I meant speak away from where someone might recognize me or put me in trouble! If I get caught here—"

“Don’t worry. You won’t. This is members only and their distinguished guests.” Claude looked quite smug and took a sip of his drink. 

“This is ridiculous, why would you think of taking me here?”

“James, I am going to ask you a genuine question. Does anyone you respect know that you like men?” James looked at him with a confused expression and unsure where exactly this talk was headed. “What do they know about you? Do they know kind of television you like? Or what you’re like outside of your job? This entire time you’ve been so scared of what others think or afraid of how you are perceived but I have yet to hear how you feel. I wanted to talk to you because I know what we did is outside your realm of normalcy. It’s not wrong to have these feelings.” 

       His expression remained cool as usual, but James could tell he spoke from the heart. There was a genuine concern and care in the words, but they felt frightening. James knew the answer to his question, and it was one that was painful to acknowledge. It was question he’d asked himself but avoided its response deciding to bury it deep within. “Don’t be ashamed of yourself,” spoke Claude in an almost hushed tone. James sank into the booth and slid deeper inside, not wanting to be caught. 

“It doesn’t matter what I feel,” he replied taking a gulp of his cocktail. “I swore an oath and I think, I used you. I used the situation.”

“But you didn’t. I wanted to kiss you. You wanted to kiss me. So, then we kissed.  There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There is for me. I can’t do that; I can’t want things like that. Claude, that was something I can’t do. Ever again.”

“Would you do it if you weren’t a priest?” Claude asked staring fiercely into his eyes.  “Could you face who you are if that damn collar wasn’t around your neck? I’m not asking you to kiss me again, though I wouldn’t mind. What am I  really asking you is if you ever addressed who you are? This place, as ridiculous as it sounds, is the Fort Knox of people like us. You can drink, you can watch, you can desire, and if you feel the need, you can touch. There are other like us here. You’re not alone. You don’t need to hide.” 

“But I must hide, Claude. What if someone sees me here then reports it? I can lose my livelihood, my position as community leader, everything.” 

“Then they’ll be outting themselves as well. Plus, it’s libel. I don’t have my license yet, but I’ll take on the case pro bono.” He smiled with that foxlike grin again which set James’s heart at ease a little.

       The two of them finished their drinks not long after this impromptu intervention. James was unsure of what time it was, but he was sure he needed to go. “I think it’s best if I take off,” he spoke, starting to exit the booth. Claude stood up and took a card out of his wallet then handed it James. “Here’s me. No excuses next time. If… if you’re up for it, a couple friends and I come here on Tuesdays to just chat. You’re more than welcome to swing by.” James placed the card within his own wallet and nodded, “I’ll let you know.” James turned to leave but noticed that Claude was sitting back down. Claude looked at him perplexed for a moment and then snapped back, “Shit, I forgot I drove us.” James laughed and shook his head, “Don’t worry, the bus stop should be right down the corner if I remember correctly.” 

Claude grew pink and with a surprisingly embarrassed look replied “You’re right. I’m sorry, I would drive you back, but I have something I need to take care of.”

“No worries. I’ll call you,”

“Promise?”

“Would I lie?” 

Claude seemed to have liked that line because he chuckled and waved him goodbye as James turned his heels then walked towards the exit. He turned to the blonde bartender from before whose piercing yellow eyes sent a chill down his spine. 

       After saying goodbye to Bartie, who seemingly took a liking to him, James walked in the warm summer night out the smelly alleyway and into the quieted street. The bus stop was exactly where he had remembered from his childhood. He glanced at the time schedule and took a seat on the bench. He placed his hands in his pocket and quietly smiled recalling what Claude had said. I’m not asking you to kiss me again, though I wouldn’t mind.