“The Best Simplicity”
A “Finding Mister Wright” pre-fic / © 2016 Mayumi Hirtzel
The bar smelled of too much eager libido, in the form of conflicting colognes and pungent perfumes that hung in the air and clung to unsuspecting skin. It thumped, too, pounding into unified time pulses that should have stayed unique, by the overpowering bass on the stereo system. When he did manage to hear himself think, Daniel Wright wondered how in hell he’d let his little brother talk him into this particular scenario.
“You’ve been going out with this guy for, what? Two months, now?” Marshall had needled, in that incessantly annoying way so common to yappy Pomeranians and younger brothers. “And you haven’t even gotten to first base, yet?” Despite any more secretive desires to the contrary, Daniel’s earnest reply that he’d been taking his time, that he liked just getting to know Rob McAllister, hadn’t diminished his brother’s insistence on a night out with the handsome high school history teacher:
“Come out with me and Brandi on Saturday,” Marshall had insisted. “It’s Valentine’s Day, the best day of the year to get busy. Trust me,” he’d added with an exaggerated wink; “with me as your wingman, your man’s pants’ll be down around his ankles in no time.”
Daniel had scowled at Marshall’s perpetually flippant attitude…but he’d come, anyway, especially when Rob had offered good-natured agreement to a night out:
“Should I dress up, or anything?”
“It’s just for a few drinks with my brother and his girlfriend du jour,” Daniel had told him over the phone. But he’d still chosen the nicest smart casual ensemble from his own wardrobe for tonight: his best non-suit trousers, button-down, and cinching vest, the one that most flattered his shoulders and waist.
Rob seemed to have prepared the same, fussing idly with the slim tie around his neck as they waited for Marshall at their high-top round. He had an air of charming boyishness when he fidgeted so, but, in his sport coat and tie, he looked like Paul Newman in “The Hustler.” Daniel had spent many a private moment back at uni staring at a black-and-white photo still of a shirtless Newman clutching a ready-to-be-ravished Piper Laurie….
“You come here a lot?” Rob suddenly asked, in more of a shout than a question.
Daniel shook his head, just in case he couldn’t be heard. “No. Marshall says the wine’s good, though.”
“The what?”
“The wine!” Daniel repeated, lifting his glass of Shiraz, ordered for his brother’s recommendation.
“Oh. Yeah! It’s great.” Rob nodded and tipped his own glass up, sipping around a smile.
Daniel drank, too, again, muttering, “Shit,” into his spicy, smoky drink. They couldn’t even talk in here, let alone get the chance for any more intimate interaction. Not that he thought Rob was ready for that. But how were they supposed to make any kind of connection if they couldn’t hear each other?
“Hey!” Marshall swished up to Daniel’s shoulder, seemingly from nowhere. He had his arm around a pretty if slightly overdone young lady in the business-blousy attire of a flight attendant. “Glad you could make it.”
“We’ve been here for nearly forty-five minutes,” Daniel rumbled. “Waiting for you.”
Marshall pulled back a hair, affecting innocence. “Have you?”
Daniel glared at him. That laddish behavior might work with women, but he was in no mood for it. Still, at least he had his safety net, now, and they could get the evening started. He opened his hand toward Rob. “Rob, this is my brother, Marshall-“
“You must be the utterly fascinating history teacher I’ve heard so much about,” Marshall said, grabbing Rob’s hand for a quick shake. He pulled his own hand back, to gesture to the young lady under his other arm. “This is…?”
“Renee,” the young lady prompted, nodding at them with a too-white smile.
“Renee,” Marshall repeated, as though to remind himself. “She’s just here for a layover, so we’ll leave you two gents and get to our laying over, eh?” He grinned to the woman, who giggled airily.
Daniel laid a pausing hand on his brother’s bicep, fighting against the urge to wrap his fingers into the muscle. Or his arm around his neck. “What do you mean, you’re leaving?”
“Renee has an early flight out,” Marshall half-shouted over the din. He leant closer to Daniel’s ear, to add with more pointed reasoning, “So, I don’t have long to work my magic. Don’t ruin this for me, Danny-boy.”
Daniel shot the girl the most pleasant smile he could muster even as he clawed his fingers into the sleeve of Marshall’s jacket. “But you’re the one who made all the arrangements for tonight,” he hissed through a grimace. “I have no idea what the plan is.”
“Ah, yeah,” Marshall drawled. “I didn’t really plan anything. I just thought we’d all have a few drinks here and then go our separate ways. You know how it works.”
Daniel felt himself blanch. “No, I don’t know!”
Marshall drew him a step to the side, away from the table, to mutter, “You’ll be fine. He obviously likes you, or he wouldn’t be here. Now, please, Daniel, this girl is on a very tight schedule, and, if we don’t leave now, I won’t be able to squeeze myself in.”
“What is that, innuendo?” Daniel muttered after him, even as Marshall put his hand out to Rob again.
“So nice to have finally met you! But, if you’ll excuse us.” And, that was it, before his brother and his brother’s flyaway fling left them alone. Or, as alone as they could get in this crowded bar.
Across the table, Rob blinked in temporary stupefaction. “Well. That was…”
“Shit?” Daniel supplied for him.
Rob replied with an easygoing laugh. “I was going to say, different. But, sure. Shit applies.”
Daniel shook his head. “I’m sorry-“
“Don’t worry about it.” Rob glanced at the remnants of his drink, then back up to Daniel. He called across the table, “You want to get out of here?”
“Absolutely!” Daniel called back, and downed the rest of his wine. Thankfully, they’d paid for their drinks at the bar, so all they had to do was finish up and step out.
The February air nipped at his face, but the relative quiet of the street was welcome. Rob’s cheeks and the tip of his nose turned a blood-rush pink noticeable when they passed beneath a streetlamp or in front of some crowded restaurant or bar casting its lights across the sidewalk, but he still smiled, to spite the cold. His lips were paler than they’d been at the bar, and Daniel faced front, trying his best not to wonder if they’d feel cold-dry and rough or smooth with waiting warmth if he kissed them.
“What should we do, now?” Rob asked as they crunched over a light cover of frozen snow.
“We could try to get some dinner,” Daniel suggested, because ducking into a darkened alley to pull Rob on top of him probably wasn’t the best option.
Rob stopped at the corner. “We’re not going to be able to get in anywhere nice, not without a reservation. I’d say we could just call it a night…” He scratched at the back of his head and showed off a pointed eyetooth in an uneven smile. “…but, it’d be a shame to waste the sitter.”
Daniel chewed on his lip a moment. While he hated the idea of taking a page from Marshall’s playbook, he offered, “You know, I don’t live far. We could get a bottle of wine, I could make us some dinner-“
“Sure,” Rob answered, more readily than Daniel had expected him to do. His smile went full and even. “Anything’s better than staying out here in the cold.”
They stopped into a grocers and managed to find a bottle of Shiraz, since Marshall had been spot on at least about that detail. Rob grabbed an odd collection of foodstuffs, too – a baguette, tomato, spinach, and some brie – and explained, “These are the ingredients for the best easy meal you’ll ever taste, believe me. I learned this one when I spent time at Benelux.”
“Benelux?” Daniel asked while they walked to the flat.
Rob nodded. “It’s an Army garrison, in Belgium. My wife- my ex,” he corrected himself, “her old man worked at Allied Command in Chievres. They wanted me to go career there, but….”
“But, what?”
Rob shrugged, without any remorse. “We had Paige. And, you know, I didn’t want to be running around the globe with a little girl growing up at home without her daddy.” He smiled, his face turning pink again, not from the biting chill. “I know, it’s old fashioned-“
“No,” Daniel assured him. “It’s nice.” He stopped them in the light cast from the apartment complex and nodded. “This is me,” he said, and led them up the short steps to the main entrance. “I’m on four. You don’t mind if we walk, do you? The lifts here are slow as molasses.”
“I don’t mind,” Rob said easily. “A little exercise gets the blood flowing.”
Daniel didn’t let his brain wander to the naughtier places to which that line of thought could lead and instead took the stairs with even, measured steps. He’d walked up and down these flights countless times, but, tonight, when he got to the flat door, his muscles felt tingly, and the keys jangled free out from his grip.
“I seem to be all thumbs, at the moment,” he muttered as he stooped, making the conscious decision to crouch and not bend at the waist, because Rob was standing pretty close behind him and-
“God, would you hurry up?”
“Sorry!” Daniel blurted, rising and spinning with his hands open when Rob let out a little roll of laughter that was equal parts amused and apologetic.
“I’m kidding. Half the time, I do this with three extra bags and a six-year-old slung over my shoulder.” His mouth curled with a different kind of smile, and he added, “But, I don’t want to stand in this hallway all night, either.”
Daniel chuckled, too, mostly for his idiocy. He opened the door and ushered Rob inside first, allowing himself a stray glance along his form. Only one, though, because, despite any gross action his charged libido might press him to do, he genuinely enjoyed spending this time getting to know Rob, not necessarily in any horizontal way.
“This is a nice place,” Rob said in perusing appraisal. “Just you?”
“Yeah. The second bedroom’s too small for anything more than a study. Can I take your coat?”
Rob smiled back over his shoulder with a look Daniel was certain he hadn’t meant to come off as smoky or alluring, but that prompted a suck of his lips to bring some spit back to his mouth. “Sure.” He set the bag of groceries on the close kitchenette counter and shimmied his big shoulders out from his coat with a supple roll of his arms, like swimming a stroke.
Daniel latched both hands around the coat to keep them to himself.
“You want to open the wine?” Rob suggested. He slipped out of his hustler jacket, too, and started to roll up his sleeves, like a clean-cut Cool Hand Luke. “I’ll get to work on the food.”
Daniel nodded and smiled, grateful to have something to occupy his too-busy brain.
He usually – nearly always – cooked for himself, and only for himself. Having another person in the kitchen area with him felt different. Nice. Marshall had a tendency to insinuate himself in the most ostentatious, obtrusive way, pestering Daniel with his bragging and critique, but Rob just worked, pausing only once in a while, to ask where the cling film was or how Daniel would like the leftover spinach kept. As Rob’s hands moved in steady concentration, slicing this and chopping that, Daniel poured their wine and set out some plates, and they both talked about less complicated things than the state of dating for single and divorced men in the big city. When the prep was done, they ate on opposite sides of the island, and Daniel found Rob had been right: the sandwich of brie, spinach, and tomato was the best simplicity he’d ever tasted, and he teased:
“Did you learn anything else from your time with the Belgies?”
Rob pulled his lips together in a tight, embarrassed smile. “Nothing I’d discuss in polite company,” he said, and laughed.
Daniel eased back on his tall seat. “Do you mean me?”
“You’re probably the most polite company I’ve ever had,” Rob confirmed, and laughed again. Daniel did, as well, but with an inner discouragement he tried his best not to let show through. In an effort not to disappoint Rob’s opinion, he returned the rest of the evening’s conversation and interaction to topics basic and above board, like work, hobbies, and films, which Rob brought up after supper, when he drifted over to the shelf of classic DVDs in the main bookcase.
“You’ve got a nice little collection, here. Lots of classics.”
Daniel came over from the sink, dusting the remnants of soap suds against his trouser leg. “My film tastes are a bit conservative, I know-”
“Nothing wrong with that.” Rob turned back to the shelf and pulled “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” from its place. “You’ve got some outlaws in here, too,” he said, and flashed that knee-weakening smile again before setting the case back again to peruse some more. He made a noise in the back of his throat as he looked at the case for “The Thin Man.” “Paige is in her Disney princess phase, so it feels like ages since I’ve seen a movie with actual people in it.”
“You fancy watching one?”
Rob glanced at his watch and blew another hum. “I’d better not. It’s already nine-thirty, and I promised Maddi I’d be back by ten.”
Daniel shrugged. “You can take some with you, if you like.”
Rob turned to him, eyes bright. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all. I’ve watched all of these a bunch of times.”
As if by fate, Rob pulled “The Hustler” from its place and examined the jacket. “I’ve never seen this one.”
“Oh, that’s a good one,” Daniel told him. “Newman and Laurie really steam up the screen. Or, you know, as steamy as films got in ’61,” he said, and chuckled.
Rob pulled a hissing breath between his teeth and set the DVD back among its mates. “Maybe I’d better not. Even tame-steamy would feel like I’m watching a porno, with a seven-year-old in the house.”
Daniel laughed at his humor. “Next time, then.”
“Yeah.” Rob smiled wide, but with a slow, thoughtful bob of his head. He popped his brows up. “And, hey, if you ever feel like watching some Disney princess stuff at our house, feel free to come by!”
“Actually,” Daniel said, swinging one finger through their laughter. “I wore out an old VHS copy of ‘Sleeping Beauty’ when I was a kid, because Maleficent was my absolute favorite villain.”
“Oh, my God!” Rob said, grinning like a kid, himself. “We love her, too!” They broke into more laughter, now, and Rob shook his hand between them for emphasis. “That is the only one of those movies I can watch over and over again, just because of Maleficent. You know, Paige will crazy-fall in love with you, if you watch that movie with us.”
Daniel couldn’t stop grinning. “If only it were that easy for everyone else!”
He’d meant the words as a joke, but Rob’s laughter faded with a blink. His smile, too, and Daniel cursed whatever stupid thing he’d said to squelch their heretofore easily growing familiarity.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Rob murmured. “I should be the one apologizing. I mean, it’s been a decade since I’ve been on a Valentine’s Day date. Literally, I was a teenager the last time I did anything like this,” he said, with a short, embarrassed laugh that Daniel thought he had no reason to add. He looked down at his hands, which stretched and played at the air between them. “I really like you, but there are just so many rules, and mores, and I…I don’t know what’s right, or acceptable, these days. We teach the kids at school to respect other people’s boundaries, and never assume, and don’t do anything that could be construed as offensive, or too forward or infringing-“
“Rob?”
“And, Valentine’s Day is so loaded!” Rob went on with a shake of his head Daniel would have called frustrated. “Everything about it is so cliché, and I really don’t want to be just another stupid statistic for a greeting card company…!”
“Rob,” Daniel said again, more gently, now, and the other man lifted his gaze, the jagged rings of green fire around the hazel inner circles flaring bright with cautious hope. Daniel offered them a low, assuring smile. “Would you kiss me? I’ve wanted you to kiss me all night,” he began, but the rest was lost in Rob’s sudden lean, and the press of his lips.
While there was no harsh cut of teeth or lap of tongues, Daniel still tasted the smooth, buttery tannins of the wine, and the softer creaminess of the brie. And, beneath that, a tang of salty caramel that paired too perfectly with the faint smell of cloves he pulled from Rob’s cheek not to be his natural taste. It was a combination at the same time so inscrutably complex and still so sublimely simple, he didn’t think his senses, his perceptions, his whole bloody life, would ever be quite the same after this kiss. And, they weren’t.
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