"That led to an interesting conversation," Arthur said. Hell, his tongue had probably been loosened too much.
"Ha ha! I'll bet," Al said, seeming tickled. Then his smile drained away and he looked around the bar, as if bemused. "Now I understand why Felix. She was all, oh, it'll spice up our love life and you might like it! Like she was bored with me in bed or something. And she was ticked after, like it wasn't what she'd expected, like I'd done something wrong. I thought she'd enjoy the show ..."
"I can imagine problems, if everyone involved is not on the same page," Arthur said, having sought for something general to say, feeling the warmth of the wine in his belly creeping lower. The mental images his creatively visual brain conjured made his toes curl.
"We weren’t even reading the same book, I guess. It turns out she has a ... she's still my wife and she's having a thing. I haven't had a thing. I mean, I look, we always look, but."
Arthur felt a dire need to say something attorney-ish, to bring the conversation back into a realm where he felt comfortable and not, well, melting. "If you wish for a lack of complication, then it's best that you don't. Not until the stress of the divorce process has passed."
"Sure," Al said. He set down his wine glass and uncurled from the couch to stand, a mite unsteadily. "Hey, I'll be right back."
He ambled off, his limbs relaxed and quite nice to watch. Arthur sipped his wine and tried to decide if he needed to use the men's room. Not yet. He took the opportunity to look around again, at the people, his people, he should feel. People in their element, free to show affection to whomever they wished. And oh, my, that couple over there were being quite affectionate indeed. They were sprawled onto one of the nearby sofas making out, and it couldn't even be quarter till nine, yet. Tainted Love was playing in the background.
"PDA, boys," a voice said, loudly. It was Tony, and he and Christian and another man, one Arthur didn't know, had made their way over to his couch-corner. They were all watching the show with amusement.
"The young ones just can't hold their liquor," Christian observed. He looked at Arthur. "Where's your friend?"
"I don't know. Off, somewhere," Arthur said, waving his hand in the general direction Al had gone. His hand, nay his entire arm, felt pleasantly buzzy and flowy. He waved it again for good measure and pleasure. He glanced at the newcomer, a compactly built Asian man. Arthur said hello. The man waved.
"Maybe he's on the dance floor," Tony said. "It's fun, but getting a little crowded. You should try it anyway. You need to relax more, Arthur."
Arthur scowled. "A great many people seem to have ideas about what I should do. Would my friends like me better if I was different?" he said. Al had never told him what to do. Nice thing about being the attorney in the relationship, that.
Christian merely widened his eyes but Tony's jaw dropped. "Fuck, you're right. Sorry. It's just, your friends hate to see you down."
"I understand," Arthur said, taking a sip of his drink and settling down. The music was changing. Was that -- it couldn't be.
"Sounds like your boyfriend playing," Christian observed.
It was. It was--
Al reappeared behind Christian. "Hi guys," he said, and then squeezed through to hold his hand down to Arthur. "I asked Angel to play this one for you. Now you have to come with me with the dance floor."
And there Al was, like everyone else, trying to get Arthur up. "Oh, for heaven's sake. You can't bribe me with Rick Springfield," he said, and started to wave Al off, but Al grabbed his hand and pulled. He was strong. Arthur came up out of his seat, spilling wine. "Fuck," he said, wiping at his trousers.
"Oops," Al laughed. "Well, come on. You can just stand still on the dance floor if you want, but you gotta come see, at least."
Tony took Arthur's glass of wine and set it on the table. "Let's all go, just to represent for Arthur's boyfriend," he said.
All Right, Tonight (Part 37/?)
"Ha ha! I'll bet," Al said, seeming tickled. Then his smile drained away and he looked around the bar, as if bemused. "Now I understand why Felix. She was all, oh, it'll spice up our love life and you might like it! Like she was bored with me in bed or something. And she was ticked after, like it wasn't what she'd expected, like I'd done something wrong. I thought she'd enjoy the show ..."
"I can imagine problems, if everyone involved is not on the same page," Arthur said, having sought for something general to say, feeling the warmth of the wine in his belly creeping lower. The mental images his creatively visual brain conjured made his toes curl.
"We weren’t even reading the same book, I guess. It turns out she has a ... she's still my wife and she's having a thing. I haven't had a thing. I mean, I look, we always look, but."
Arthur felt a dire need to say something attorney-ish, to bring the conversation back into a realm where he felt comfortable and not, well, melting. "If you wish for a lack of complication, then it's best that you don't. Not until the stress of the divorce process has passed."
"Sure," Al said. He set down his wine glass and uncurled from the couch to stand, a mite unsteadily. "Hey, I'll be right back."
He ambled off, his limbs relaxed and quite nice to watch. Arthur sipped his wine and tried to decide if he needed to use the men's room. Not yet. He took the opportunity to look around again, at the people, his people, he should feel. People in their element, free to show affection to whomever they wished. And oh, my, that couple over there were being quite affectionate indeed. They were sprawled onto one of the nearby sofas making out, and it couldn't even be quarter till nine, yet. Tainted Love was playing in the background.
"PDA, boys," a voice said, loudly. It was Tony, and he and Christian and another man, one Arthur didn't know, had made their way over to his couch-corner. They were all watching the show with amusement.
"The young ones just can't hold their liquor," Christian observed. He looked at Arthur. "Where's your friend?"
"I don't know. Off, somewhere," Arthur said, waving his hand in the general direction Al had gone. His hand, nay his entire arm, felt pleasantly buzzy and flowy. He waved it again for good measure and pleasure. He glanced at the newcomer, a compactly built Asian man. Arthur said hello. The man waved.
"Maybe he's on the dance floor," Tony said. "It's fun, but getting a little crowded. You should try it anyway. You need to relax more, Arthur."
Arthur scowled. "A great many people seem to have ideas about what I should do. Would my friends like me better if I was different?" he said. Al had never told him what to do. Nice thing about being the attorney in the relationship, that.
Christian merely widened his eyes but Tony's jaw dropped. "Fuck, you're right. Sorry. It's just, your friends hate to see you down."
"I understand," Arthur said, taking a sip of his drink and settling down. The music was changing. Was that -- it couldn't be.
"Sounds like your boyfriend playing," Christian observed.
It was. It was--
Al reappeared behind Christian. "Hi guys," he said, and then squeezed through to hold his hand down to Arthur. "I asked Angel to play this one for you. Now you have to come with me with the dance floor."
And there Al was, like everyone else, trying to get Arthur up. "Oh, for heaven's sake. You can't bribe me with Rick Springfield," he said, and started to wave Al off, but Al grabbed his hand and pulled. He was strong. Arthur came up out of his seat, spilling wine. "Fuck," he said, wiping at his trousers.
"Oops," Al laughed. "Well, come on. You can just stand still on the dance floor if you want, but you gotta come see, at least."
Tony took Arthur's glass of wine and set it on the table. "Let's all go, just to represent for Arthur's boyfriend," he said.