Beautiful Viking by Steve Sampson

Author:Steve Sampson [Sampson, Steve]
Language: nld
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Beautiful Viking | 153

IN THE cold parking lot of the Anchor Bar, Eric saw Scott’s SUV. He

parked his Lexus next to it and hurried into the warm tavern. The two

young men were meeting after work to enjoy a couple of beers and a

few games of pool.

In the middle of their first game, Scott said to Eric, “Hey, man, a

guy came in a few minutes ago. He’s sitting at a table by the wall over

there. He keeps watching you.”

Eric turned and looked. “That’s George, Shannon’s brother,” he

said.

George stood and walked toward them. He was a few inches

shorter than Eric, with a bull neck, thick arms, and a beer drinker’s

growing stomach. He was wearing construction boots, old jeans, a

black and white flannel shirt, and a very worn brown leather jacket.

“Hey, Folke, Shannon told me you turned into a faggot,” George

said with disgust.

“No, I’m gay,” Eric calmly answered.

“What the fuck’s the difference?” George asked.

With his voice still calm and controlled, Eric answered, “A gay

man respects himself. A faggot is a punk-ass dickhead like you.”

Molten anger filled George’s eyes. He stepped closer to Eric.

“What the fuck did you call me?”

154 | Steve Sampson

Eric laid his cue stick on the table. “I said you’re a punk-ass

faggot,” he calmly repeated.

George took a deep breath. Eric saw him clench his fists.

“You really want to carry this to the end?” Eric asked.

Without a word, George swung his fist. Eric blocked the

incoming punch with his left arm. With his own hard right fist, he

smashed into George’s face, slamming his body against the wall.

George fell to his knees.

The bartender, a short woman in her sixties, screamed at the men.

“What the hell’s going on?”

George staggered to his feet. He used his jacket sleeve to wipe the

blood running from his nose and the corner of his mouth.

“Not a goddamned thing,” he said, spitting blood onto the floor.

“All of you get your asses out of here, or I’ll call the cops. We

don’t want no fighting in here,” the woman yelled from behind the bar.

“He fucking started it,” Scott shouted, pointing at George.

“I don’t give a goddamn. All of you, out! Now!” the woman

ordered.

Scott threw his cue onto the table. He and Eric picked up their

coats and walked to the door.

“That punk-ass started it,” Scott repeated.

“Out!” the woman yelled.

Eric and Scott walked out the door into the fading light of the

cold November afternoon. They stood in the parking lot next to Eric’s

car and watched George walk out of the bar. As he walked to his car,

he stared at Eric. Blood still oozed from his nose.

“This ain’t over, Folke, not by a long shot,” he snarled before he

climbed into his car.

Showing his rage, he squealed his tires when he pulled out of the

lot. The tires continued their angry protest up the street.

“Nick told me someday I’d come up against this kind of shit,”

Beautiful Viking | 155

Eric said when George and his squealing tires were gone.

“He’s a fucking asshole,” Scott said.

“I’ve never been called a faggot before,” Eric said.

Scott put his hand on Eric’s shoulder. “Like you said, he’s the

faggot; you’re the man.

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