“I was definitely impressed.”

“The queer-bashing jock side of my personality that I can barely repress.”

“Eek.”

Ben doubled up, spitting beer. When he got his breath he said, “You fucking shit.”

“They’re my sheets you sprayed beer on.”

“Baby, we’ve got so much other shit on these sheets the beer is acting as a detergent.”

“All of a sudden you are so fucking funny.”

“Guess you were looking for a dumb jock, huh? Sorry, too bad. This is a life lesson for you. Ex-virgins who are putting out nonstop need more than one set of sheets.”

Ronny shook his head. “Here we go. And I just washed the sheets yesterday.”

“Do you really want to stop to think about that now? You might start to worry that you’re having too much sex and you’re going to die.”

“Hmm.”

“Don’t even try to count it up.”

“Man, you’re good with this beer stuff.”

“You want some more? I like to pour it in your mouth.”

“I wish I had a joint now,” Ronny said.

“Oh, man, don’t even bring that shit up. You never smoked a joint in your life, you told me so.”

“I guess you’re corrupting me. We’d have to go for a walk or something. I hear it stinks.”

“We have a wonderful smoking patio just through the French fucking doors.” Ben pointed to the window and the porch roof.

“As I’ve always thought, a master criminal.”

“I would bow but I’m so fucking comfortable.”

Best of Times

FALLING ASLEEP TOWARD MORNING AGAIN, BEN woke up once when Ronny was drawing the shade and another time to piss, not even hesitating anymore, maybe because he was more used to the sounds of the house. Ronny’s jaw was sore and he rubbed the ends of the mandibles with his fingers. Ben came back and flung himself down on Ronny and rolled him around until they were both partly drowsing and partly aroused. Ben was tired, though, and fell asleep with Ronny tangled against him.

When Ronny woke again, he got out of bed while Ben’s eyes were still closed, but they opened at once, Ben reaching for Ronny’s thigh. He sat on the bed next to Ben and put his hand on Ben’s face. “I need to get dressed and go down to the paper.”

“Hmm,” Ben said. “Sit there a second.”

“Sure.”

“Slept so hard,” Ben said. “Man.”

“You must not have been resting at home.”

“No. You want me to get up?”

“Why don’t you sleep some more?”

After a moment he sagged into the pillow. Ronny went on sitting there, feeling there was something more. Ben’s hand traced up and down Ronny’s lower spine. “What do you do to calm me down like this?”

“I don’t know. Just talk to you, I guess.”

“I never felt like this, you know.”

“Never?”

He shook his head. Smiling a little. “Listen to me, talking this fucking bullshit.”

They watched each other, and Ben cupped Ronny’s face with a hand, the calluses rough. This look of him coming into himself, a liquid light along his skin, a change in his body as though he were testing each limb. Ronny felt a catch inside himself, a moment in which something opened up, yawning and deep. Ben grinned, eyes more open now. He sat back on the pillows, pulled Ronny on top of him. “Just for a minute.”