Page 19 of Patchwork
As a gay teen growing up in Fall Crosse, I lost count of how many nights I sat in the parking lot of Wooley’s and wondered what it was like inside a gay bar. As I scan the dimly lit bar, that teenage part of me does a giddy dance inside of me. It’s not at all what I expected, but it’s so… Fall Crosse. It looks like any other Wisconsin bar, with wood paneling on the walls and a Brewers game on the TV behind the bar. Except there’s a rainbow flag on the wall, a collage of pictures of happy gay couples, and everywhere I look, men are cozying up with other men.
The man behind the bar with his long blond hair pulled into a messy bun greets Hero with a wave, raising his eyebrow and pointing at the beer tap. Hero nods and holds up two fingers.
“That’s cute. The bartender knows you so well you can order without saying a word.” Do I sound jealous? Maybe just a smidge.
Talking about exclusivity never made sense when we never even had the relationship talk. We only see each other a few times a year, after all. If Hero had asked me outside like I told him to, I would have told him the truth, that I haven’t even looked at anyone else since we met. But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t.
He rumbles a laugh, leaning in a little closer so his warm breath tickles my skin.
“He’s married.”
The little knot of jealousy inside my chest loosens.
We make our way over to the table where the rest of the guys are already gathered. Arrow has a cute blond twink on his lap and Piston’s arm is around a man who looks closer to my age and has big, doey heart eyes for the biker. Arrow introduces his boyfriend, Lewis, and Piston’s man jumps up out of his seat and looks at me with wide eyes.
“Holy shit, do you know who you are?”
I sputter a laugh. “That’s possibly the most existential question anyone has ever asked me without a cloud of marijuana smoke billowing between us.”
“Be cool, kid,” Hero says, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a friendly squeeze.
“Sorry.” He visibly takes a deep breath and then makes a show of blowing it out slowly and pulling himself together. “I’m Milo, and you’re Onyx, lead guitarist for Black Sheep, which is totally chill and normal and I’m not at all about to lose my shit and fanboy all over you. Okay, cool.”
I choke on another laugh and untangle my fingers from Hero’s to shake Milo’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, Milo.”
He stares at my hand as he shakes it, then looks over at Hero’s hand like he’s just putting two and two together.
“Wait, are you guys…?” He whips back around to look at everyone else at the table accusingly. “Did everyone know this but me?”
Piston laughs and reaches out to hook his fingers through Milo’s belt loops and tug him onto his lap. “I’m pretty sure Hero said tochill.”
“Hey, don’t blame Milo. Not knowing how to be cool in public is really down to poor parenting,” Jag says wisely.
Milo snorts and Hero gives Jag a dry look.
“Wait…” I look between Hero and Milo, finally noticing the similarities. “Is this…” I remember him mentioning a son he’d just met and hadn’t known about for years the last time we were together.
“Hero’s surprise son, that’s me.” Milo beams and waves.
“That’s wild.” I shake my head and slide into one of the empty seats.
The bartender makes his way over and hands off our drinks to Hero, checking whether anyone else needs a refill. Then, Heroslides into the seat next to me and sets one of the beers down in front of me.
The conversation that petered off when we arrived picks right back up around us, all the guys talking over each other and laughing, meandering from one topic to another. Tattoos, their bikes, plans for the summer, who’s responsible for the colorful dicks… Clearly, I’m missing some context there. Hero’s foot nudges against mine under the table and I just happily settle in and follow the loud banter. I have no clue why Hero wanted to go all the way to Milwaukee whenthisis right here.
Maybe he doesn’t realize how fucking cool it is that he has friends like these; people he has inside jokes with, people whoknowhim. I sip my beer slowly and reach for his hand under the table. It’s easy to slip into a fantasy that this is what it could be like if I decide to stay here. I could become part of this off-the-wall family of bikers who love to give each other shit, their laughter booming through the quiet bar as they throw loving barbs at each other.
I glance over at Hero and tug my lip ring between my teeth. Assuming Hero would evenwantme to stay. He’s the one who’s always shied away from the relationship talk, just like he did earlier in the parking lot. Maybe it’s silly of me to think he might want anything more than what we have right now. He squeezes my fingers and glances over at me, catching my eye before I can play it cool and look away. A smile tugs at his lips, filling my gut with a warm, wanting feeling that’s all slowly strummed strings and warm cinnamon.
“Darts?” he says, and I nod.
I down the rest of my beer and push my seat back, and Hero does the same.
“You’ve been quiet,” he says as we make our way over to the dartboard. “Sorry Milo was a little starstruck, and I know the guys can be a lot—”
I put my hand over his mouth to stop him, grinning. “I’m just relaxing and enjoying not being the center of attention. Milo seems like a sweetheart, and it’s totally your fault for not warning him before he met me.”
