Drawn Together (17 page)

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aftermath in his lower body. Yamane’s mouth dropped open in the relaxed way of children when they sleep, and he began to snore delicately.

Rory stroked Yamane’s hair, admitting to himself, at last, that this strange and beautiful man had hardly made a move, yet Rory’s “knight” was taken.

* * * * *

When Rory woke the next morning, Yamane was busy repacking yesterday’s clothes.

He had already showered and was letting his hair dry down. “It’s about time. It’s already nine, and I’m starving,” Yamane said, a happy smile on his face.

“You’re in a good mood this morning,” Rory said carefully.

“So, it seems, are you,” Yamane said. He pointed to Rory’s morning wood, which would have been difficult to hide at the best of times, but in the warmth of the early Arizona morning, Rory had thrown off the covers. “When I woke up, I thought I was being robbed.”

“Shit.” Rory rolled over and put a pillow on his head.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I thought about taking advantage of the situation, but then I thought, what kind of a jerk would do that?”

Rory’s eyes snapped open to look at Yamane closely, but he detected no sarcasm.

“You’re blushing. How cute. I’ll tell you what, I was going outside to smoke, but unless you’re planning a bonfire or a baseball game, what do you say you let me take care of that before I go, okay?”

Yamane leaped on him. Before Rory really got a handle on what was happening, Yamane’s sweet mouth found him, and before he could even think, he was tangling his fingers in Yamane’s long hair and coming in his hot mouth. He gazed at Yamane afterward, dazed and robbed of speech. Yamane kissed him and shared the flavor of their lovemaking.

“I need a cigarette.” Yamane grinned.

“No. You don’t.” Rory ran his hands down Yamane’s back.

“How about you suck me off?”

Rory’s eyes snapped back to his, and he knew his face didn’t exactly look…eager. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. He wanted to taste every square inch of Yamane. He wanted to suck him and screw him and eat his ass. But when Yamane said it? He realized he’d never, ever done it before, and he felt his blood run cold. What if he wasn’t any good at it?

Yamane got up and sailed out the door, laughing at him. Rory stayed in bed for a few minutes longer. His face was on fire, and his heart was pounding.

Did Yamane remember last night? Did Yamane know he was clumsy and ignorant and content to hump him like a dog?

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Finally he got up and used the bathroom, taking a quick shower. He joined Yamane outside, and they went to the same little Mexican place, this time for huevos rancheros and coffee.

“I love these homemade tortillas,” Yamane was saying. “I read somewhere that every culture in the world has a flatbread. I don’t know why, but I’m just ravenous today.”

“Uh-huh.” Rory was deep in his own thoughts. “Today we’ll head up to Salt Lake City.

Then we’ll get some more camping gear and drive east on the eighty. Would you be okay camping out a couple of nights?”

“I’m not sure I’m exactly your camping type.”

“How about we try it for one night, and then if you hate it, we’ll go back to motels?”

“How about we make some kind of trade?” teased Yamane, and Rory’s face flamed up again. “I’m just kidding. You sure are jumpy today.”

“Sorry.” Rory looked down. He ate the rest of his food in silence.

When they finished breakfast, Rory and Yamane got into the car and headed north on Interstate 15. Soon they were driving through Utah, listening to the classical music station on the radio, awed by the vast sky and otherworldly landscapes. Rory wondered if Yamane liked the silence, or if he was allowing it to play out between them because he felt as out-of-depth, as uncomfortably new, as Rory did.

At a rest stop just before Provo, Rory used his cell phone to call his friend Brian. He used the men’s room and came out to find Yamane sitting at a picnic table sketching some children. Rory sat down next to him. The feeling of rightness, the sense of peace that came with being by Yamane’s side, had grown with every look, every word, that was spoken between them that day

“I like it here, Rory,” said Yamane. “It’s clean and beautiful.”

“Me too. I wish we were free to camp in Bryce. It’s like being on another planet.”

“Rory, are you all right?”

“I am.” Rory was puzzled, but it was true. “I’ve even stopped wishing we’d met under different circumstances.” He got up. “I’m going to get the first aid kit from the car. I want to change the dressing on your hand.”

When he had the wound uncovered, Rory said, “You know, I don’t know if you still need to keep it bandaged. It’s healing nicely.”

“Is that your professional opinion, doctor?” Yamane flushed when he realized what he said. Rory smiled at him, unconcerned.

“Don’t, Yamane, please. I understood then, and I understand now.” Yamane lowered his eyes. “Thank you.”

Rory finished up. “Let’s go horrify Utah with our bad gay selves, shall we?”

“Are you kidding me?”

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“Yes,” answered Rory, “probably. But while we’re in Utah, if instead of flaming, you could quietly sort of smolder, I’d appreciate it.”

“I may smolder, but you, my friend, brought the wood this morning.”

“That doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“That depends,” Yamane told him, “on what you were trying to do with it, doesn’t it?” Rory kept his eyes on the road.

“You’re blushing!” Yamane began to sing, “Yamane’s got a boyfriend… Yamane’s got a boyfriend.”

Rory reached over to give Yamane’s good hand a squeeze. “Yamane’s got a lover.” he said, and it was Yamane’s turn to be silent.

* * * * *

When they finally reached their destination, Rory phoned his friend from a Denny’s where Yamane managed an embarrassment of pancakes and some sort of omelet with everything in it. After a while, a young couple walked in with a toddler and two car carriers with tiny infant boys in them.

Rory got up and gave his friend a bone-crushing hug, and after a few confusing moments, they shoved together a couple of tables and sighed when everyone was seated.

Rory introduced Yamane to Brian and his wife, Amy. Brian introduced his daughter, Asia, and their twins, Paul and Jared. A waitress came by and Brian and his family got their food order in.

“So, Rory,” said Brian. “I haven’t seen you in ages. I’m glad you could come and meet the family. Mom and Dad hope you’ll stay at their place tonight. Did you bring sleeping bags?”

Rory nodded.

“That’s settled then. I take it you still resist the waters of baptism?” Brian asked.

“I do. But you’ve been very magnanimous about that, for which I am grateful,” Rory replied.

“Why do we have so much trouble in New Orleans, I wonder?”

“Perhaps it’s because we’re drunk, armed, and Catholic.”

“And you’re an inveterate gambler, don’t forget,” said Yamane. “Although you’re phenomenally good at it.”

“I do not gamble, Yamane,” said Rory. “I play poker, which for the men of my family is not a gamble.”

“Yes, I know,” said Yamane. To Brian, he said, “It’s like he’s made a deal with the devil or something.” He looked at those freshly scrubbed, earnest faces. “I mean, not really…”

“Oh, of course not,” said Brian seriously. “I’m sure we’d have heard about it if he had.” 102

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Amy nudged him hard and laughed.

“Rory, Brian said he met you when he was on his mission?” she asked.

“Yep,” said Rory.

“But you guys got together again after the hurricane?”

“Yeah. Wasn’t Asia just born then? He had about a million pictures.” One of the twins gave a sharp cry, and Amy leaned over to pick him up. Asia seemed content to stare Yamane down.

“Brian told me all about how you volunteered at the shelter together. He sang that pancake song in his sleep for months.” She smiled. “He said when you got out of school you planned to stalk the Snoggs artist until she married you.”

“Uh, well…” said Rory.

“Yeah.” Yamane grinned. “You never told me. How did that turn out? With that artist?” Yamane, the shit, took out a sketchbook and began to draw pictures of Asia dancing with Snoggs.

“Uh, well,” said Rory again. “Allow me to introduce you to Ran Yamane, creator of the Snoggs and Princess Celendrianna.”

Yamane gave a little wiggly-fingered wave. And smiled, damn him.

“Holy crap,” said Brian, whose daughter echoed it like a broken record.

“Crap, crap, crap, crap.” Asia giggled. “Daddy’s funny.”

“Brian!” said Amy, covering Asia’s mouth with her hand.

“Sorry, love.” He picked up his daughter. “Okay, there’s a story here…” Rory began to tell it, with constant interruption from Yamane.

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Chapter Sixteen

Once at Brian’s parents’ home, Rory and Brian decided to take a quiet walk where they could talk. “Well,” said Brian. “I hardly know where to begin.”

“Will I be disowned by your wonderful family now, do you think?” asked Rory lightly, but the thought caused him so much pain he could hardly hide it.

“Of course not. Don’t be stupid. I can’t believe your Snoggs girl turned out to be a guy.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Dang,” said Brian. “You’re the last one I ever figured to go over to the dark side.”

“You and me both, brother. But thinking back…”

“Are you sure you’re not just switching sides because of the ‘war’? Like a prison romance or something? It’s not fair to him if, when the dust settles, you suddenly start looking at the centerfold in Playboy again.”

“I never!”

“The heck you didn’t. I know what you were like; I baptized your best friend. Really, have you thought this through for the long haul?”

“I don’t think I ever really told myself the whole story. In retrospect, certain things now make more sense,” Rory said quietly. “I can never look at anything else when he’s around. I think I just…belong to him. Ever since the first time I saw one of his drawings.

’Course, I thought he was a woman. But I can assure you, he’s not any kind of disappointment as a man.”

Brian said nothing. Rory felt no condemnation in his gaze, just the same caring friendship he’d always felt. He leaned over and hugged Brian tightly. “You are the best man I know.”

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“You heathen,” teased Brian. “You’re a good guy, and I’m proud to call you my friend.

Let’s go back -- Yamane’s probably worried we’re deprogramming you or something.”

* * * * *

Later, Rory and Yamane were left on the patio alone. “I never knew people like that existed,” said Yamane. “How amazing.”

“Brian’s been like a brother to me, which is weird. I still don’t think he’s given up on me, but he never makes me feel bad. That’s what it is; when I’m with him, I always feel good about myself. That’s probably what made me head here. I’ll get the sleeping bags from the car. And no messing around tonight.” Rory reddened. “Okay?”

“Are you telling me or you?” asked Yamane.

Rory grinned. “Hell if I know.”

* * * * *

Yamane woke up the next morning in a sleeping bag on the family room floor sandwiched between Asia and her four-year-old cousin, Jacob. They squatted on the ground, one on either side of him, gazing at him with unabashed adoration.

“Mr. Yummy want pancakes?” asked Asia around the thumb she was sucking.

“What?” He tried to shake off the sleepy stupor he was feeling.

“She asked you do you want pancakes, Mr. Yummy? Grandma says if you want pancakes with faces you have to come now.”

“Pancakes with faces?” he asked, but the children were long gone. He got up and took his toiletry kit to the bathroom. When he arrived in the kitchen, more or less presentable, he found Katherine Olsen pouring happy faces of pancake batter onto a huge griddle, where they would brown a little. Then she poured a pancake around them so when they were flipped the happy face showed up darker than its surrounding pancake.

“That is so ingenious. I’ll bet you could do designs and animals and names if you did lettering in the negative --”

“Rory and the kids are on the patio,” Katherine said, and Yamane suspected she was hiding a smile. Yamane went to the window to see what Rory was up to. It took him a minute to realize that they were doing the happy pancake dance.

“Hey. They’re doing --”

“Yeah, that’s right; that’s yours, isn’t it? Nobody eats a pancake in this house without it.

I’ve watched an awful lot of Snoggs, Yamane.”

“Yeah. No kidding?” Something in her face told him maybe a little too much. “Sorry.” Katherine walked to the patio. “Hey, kids, Mr. Yamane can draw the Snoggs. Why don’t you ask him nicely if he’ll draw you one?” Drawn Together

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“Mr. Yummy, Mr. Yummy.” Jacob ran at Yamane for a hug and smacked him right in the groin with his head.

“Ooomh.” Yamane resisted cursing.

“Please draw some Snoggs for us.” Jacob looked up with pleading eyes.

Asia ran to her grandmother and pulled on her apron. “Grandma, make Mr. Yummy draw!”

“I have something much better than Snoggs. I drew a picture of a pretty princess named Asia last night. I’ll go get it.” Yamane hurried to the family room to get the sketchbook out of his messenger bag. When he returned, he showed it to the children.

“Look, this is from last night. I drew all of your family there. See if you can tell who is who.” The children plopped on the family room floor with the sketchbook between them, occasionally shouting out a name as they turned the pages. When it was time to be seated and eat breakfast, the blessing was observed, with Rory doing the honors. Yamane took his sketchbook back to keep it from getting covered in maple syrup and signed and dated the cover.

“Katherine,” said Yamane. “I would like you to have this. Thank you very much for your kindness.” He gave her the sketchbook with a formal bow.

“Thank you, Yamane,” she said, opening it carefully. “This is magnificent. What a treasure for our family. Allen, look at this.” She and her husband looked it over while the grandchildren ate.