Free One for the Gods (The Peter & Charlie Trilogy) by Gordon Merrick Page A

the sake of argument, let’s say that Guy asks me to leave a party and go for a little stroll with him. I know perfectly well what he has in mind, so I say no. We’ll have to assume that I temporarily lose my mind and agree.” That he was actually having this conversation with Peter was inconceivable, but he went on implacably. “So there we are in the dark and if I let him move in close enough to tear off my shirt, I must know the moment is coming. He makes a grab and I’m ready to move fast. If I don’t want to hit him for some reason, I run and there I am back at the party, a little out of breath but intact.”
    “It’s not going to help for you to make some sort of lousy joke of it.”
    “Oh, no. That wasn’t a joke. It was a perfectly reasonable reconstruction of a perfectly familiar situation.”
    “All right. That’s the way it would be with you and Guy. But can’t you understand how I was thinking? You’d just spoken to me about Jean-Claude. If I got in some sort of a mess with him, it would’ve seemed as if I hadn’t paid any attention to you. I just wanted to keep it quiet and get it over with as quickly as possible until I could speak to you.”
    “I still have the feeling that you’re leaving something out,” Charlie said coldly.
    “What? I’ve told you I found him sort of appealing. I admit I’ve known he thinks he’s in love with me. I guess I was touched by it. I wanted to help him get over it. Maybe I shouldn’t have. But I swear to God I never dreamed he’d be capable of anything like tonight.”
    “Well, that sounds a bit more honest. Maybe you’re ready to admit to a few more things.” He didn’t want to hear any more. He wanted to stop the car and jump out and run, run anywhere to get away from this. But he knew how to exploit Peter’s basic honesty and he was blindly determined to get the truth. He felt as if their whole future depended on it. He took an iron grip on himself and said quite lightly, “You might as well admit you’ve let him kiss you.”
    “Well, yes. I—”
    “I don’t think I want to make a catalogue of all the things you might have done. He’s had a good look at your cock. I can’t imagine his bothering to pull your pants off without playing with it a bit. Are you sure he didn’t show you his?”
    “All right, if you want all the sordid details. Yes, he opened his pants. He had a hard-on. I didn’t. That’s the difference.”
    “Really lovely. I suppose you know I’m going to beat the shit out of him myself tomorrow. Tell me this. Under different circumstances, can you imagine going to bed with him?”
    “Not after—” He checked himself. The question had been phrased so that it was easy to evade but he realized that an attempt at honesty in answering it might achieve more understanding between them. Charlie’s unyielding manner was making him begin to pray for understanding. He began again, “Oh, Christ, how do you expect me to answer that? You know you’re the only person I’ve ever cared about. But—hell, things happen sometimes. Damn rarely. Practically never, really. Two or three times in ten years. It’s just a kind of chemical reaction. It doesn’t mean anything, but it’s hard to control when it’s going on. I admit I got pretty worked up about him for a little while, but it’s all over. I don’t mean just because of tonight. What happened before lunch today—that was real. You know that. That’s all I want, you, you doing the things we do together.”
    Charlie’s jaws were clamped shut. He felt as if he could break the wheel in his hands. This wasn’t going to end here. “Well, I suppose I ought to thank you for telling the truth,” he said evenly, “but I can’t pretend I like it. I feel as if I don’t even know you. Things happen! Is that your way of saying you’ve been to bed with two or three other guys?”
    “Good God, no. I’m just talking about being attracted sometimes.”
    “Well, things like that