Free All Snug by B.G. Thomas

Dedication

    For Raymond, for ten years—
    and for the idea for this story...
    I love you!

    B.G. Thomas

    Al Snug [3]

    All Snug

    THE more I thought about it, the more I knew I had to have
    the bed. My boyfriend wanted it. It was Christmas. And while
    it was a bit overpriced, I could afford it. Steve on the other
    hand, could not.
    I’d thought about it for two weeks, and when Steve
    casually mentioned it was still at the antique store, I made
    up my mind. It was perhaps an excessive gift for a man I’d
    been dating for less than two months, but when I thought
    about what Steve and I would do in that bed, the scales were
    tipped.
    A call to the antique store the night before told me the
    bed was still available. So it was quite a surprise when I
    arrived at Derringer’s early the next morning and asked for
    the large, oak four-poster bed at the very same time as
    another customer. The look on both the proprietor’s and the
    other man’s faces (and my own, I’m sure, had I been able to
    see it) were quite comedic really. Like they’d been caught
    doing something they shouldn’t.
    “Oh, my,” said Mr. Derringer, the owner of the store. “I
    haven’t had anything like this happen in a long time. And it’s
    been sitting there two months.”
    The other man, youngish, slim, with dark hair and
    pretty, wide startled eyes, looked like he might cry. “I… I
    think I was here first,” he said.
    “I’m not sure,” Mr. Derringer said, adjusting his glasses.
    B.G. Thomas

    Al Snug [4]

    “I did call last night,” I reminded Mr. Derringer. He knew
    me; I’d bought a few things from him in the past, most of
    them costly: a standing lamp, an oil painting, and a few
    other odd items (more than one with a rather naughty
    touch).
    “So you did, so you did,” he said, looking up, down, but
    not seeming to want to look at either of us. “But, ah, you
    didn’t ask me to hold it.”
    “So?” asked the young man. “Does that mean I get it or
    not?” He looked like he was about to go into fight or flight
    mode. Which would it be? I wondered.
    Mr. Derringer, nervous thing that he was, began to
    shake, fumbled with some papers on his desk, removed his
    glasses and began cleaning them. He looked back and forth
    between us. “You both approached me at the same time,” he
    said in that spineless voice of his. He drove me near insane
    he could be so insipid. But he also found things that no one
    else could. He had a gift for it.
    “I’ve got my card out!” the young man practically
    shouted.
    “I’ll pay cash,” I pressed. This was ridiculous, and I
    didn’t want to be here all day. I did need to get to the office
    at some point.
    “Cash?” asked Mr. Derringer, his little eyes focusing on
    me.
    I liked the sound of Derringer’s voice now. Holiday
    season or not, cash was always good, and who knew if the
    young man could even afford the bed. His peacoat looked
    worn, his pants with tattered cuffs were just a little too long,
    and his shoes had certainly seen better days.
    B.G. Thomas

    Al Snug [5]

    “I don’t see why that makes any difference,” said the
    young man. “What do you usually do in a situation like
    this?”
    “I…” said Mr. Derringer, “I could use the cash.”
    “I’ll give you an extra hundred,” I said and pulled out a
    roll of bills.
    “No!” yelled the young man. “You can’t do that!”
    “I can,” I said. “Do we have a deal, Mr. Derringer?”
    “I’m sorry, young man,” Mr. Derringer apologized,
    staring at my cash like he was starving.
    The young man turned to me. “Look, I really want that
    bed,” he said, his eyes wide and pleading. “The… person I’m
    seeing really wants it. Anything else would just be a
    letdown.”
    Person? I smiled at the lack of pronoun and wondered if
    that “person” was another man.
    “I went through hell to get the money,” he continued.
    “There isn’t anything else I want. It’s really important to me.
    Please.”
    Oh, those