Liar's Waltz by Black Becky

Author:Black, Becky [Black, Becky]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: LGBT Science Fiction Fantasy
Publisher: Loose Id LLC
Published: 2011-01-04T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“Damn.”

Karl’s voice and movement woke Greg. He stayed, he thought, mind still hazy, and realized it was ridiculous that, at his age, he’d never before spent the whole night with a man. Even while on shore leave and with a partner who wasn’t in the service, Greg had always done what he’d come to do and then left. That was just the way it worked. To actually sleep for hours in the same bed with a man? He’d never dared to risk it. He’d risked it with Karl.

It was…kind of uncomfortable, actually. He’d imagined waking spooned against Karl, cradled in his arms. Instead he had an elbow digging into his ribs, and Karl seemed to have more than his fair share of the covers, leaving Greg with drafts in intimate places. But still…remarkable.

“Something wrong?” Greg said, rubbing his eyes as Karl got out of bed, his Link in his hand.

“Just got a message. I have to go talk to the police about some questions they have from the raid.”

“Right now?” Should he be glad they wouldn’t have time to talk? Because he really believed he could do it now. Confess, before this went any further. Forget asking his father for help—he could ask Karl. They could find a way out of this together. He could be strong with Karl at his side. After the way he’d handled the raid, he’d think of something.

“Sorry,” Karl said. “Can’t give them an excuse to come back! I know, we were going to talk.”

“It’s okay. Later.” He could make some plans; work out exactly what he could say. “Can I come see you at the bar tonight? In your office?”

“I know your game,” Karl said, grinning as he gathered his clothes. “You’re planning to mess up my desk again, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I hate your desk and will take every opportunity I get to mess it up.”

“Feel free to come and try.” Karl pulled on his pants. “Go back to sleep. It’s still early. I’ll go back to my place to change. See you later.”

Later.

He’d end it then. He had to.

* * *

At closing time that night, Karl approached the stairs to the basement dance floor. A staff member carrying a precarious tower of dirty glasses dodged past him, the top of the stack weaving alarmingly.

“You drop those, they’ll come out of your wages,” Karl warned, but it was an empty threat. He’d never done it so far. The busboys rarely dropped them, anyway, only when the competition to see who could carry the most got out of hand. When that happened, Karl had a good long shout at them, and everyone went back to being sensible again—for a while.

The busboy grinned at him, slotted one more glass onto the bottom of his stack, and headed to the bar to put his tower on the counter. Bar staff on the other side dismantled the wall of glasses as fast as the busboys built it, filling the washing machines.

“Cheeky,” Karl muttered, descending the stairs to the basement.

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