Less Than Whole

Ebon was meeting Stephen at a small bar in Ohio City. It was a place he used to go a lot, before everything happened to him, before he lost his soul. He used to hang out, swap gossip, and pick up guys. He was always able to take his pick of the hottest men there. Once, he’d even had a total of seven men (in a row) in the bathroom of the bar.

The bartender knew him, and gave him a wary nod. He asked Ebon what he was drinking, and Ebon asked for a light beer. He looked around and saw a few faces he knew. He hugged people who had been close acquaintances at one time, and shook hands with an old white drag queen named Miss Jenny Clair.

Stephen wasn’t there yet, so he sat down next to Miss Jenny and chatted a little with “her.”

“You look good, Ebon. Haven’t seen you around for the better part of a year now. What’s been happening?”

Ebon shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about it. He wasn’t proud of anything he’d done so far all year. “Nothing much. And you?”

She smiled and sipped her drink. “Nothing much either, hun. Definitely been less exciting without you in the scene, you know?”

Ebon chuckled. “Thanks for saying so. Hey, do you know Stephen Drum?”

“Hun, he’s a hot little number. Mixed race, you know, like you, only, half black, half white. Mm, he’s a little slice of heaven. You’re meeting him here?”

“Yeah. It’s a ‘date.’” He laughed. “Mixed race. I haven’t heard that in a while.”

“Think you’re turning Japanese?” She smiled at him and Ebon laughed again.

“Nope, still half and half.” They laughed together. It was an inside joke between them. Ebon was amazed at how easy it was to slip back into the scene, to sit at a bar and joke with someone he knew well. He wished he’d done it earlier.

Then Miss Jenny said, “You’re putting on some weight, Hun. Not that it doesn’t suit you, because it does, but it shows.”

And suddenly, Ebon was reminded how different he was from the person who used to come in this bar over a year ago. He pulled out his cigarettes, tapped the box and then took one out. He offered one to Jenny, but she turned him down. “Ladies don’t smoke,” she said.

Ebon shrugged, lit his cigarette and turned towards the door. People, mostly men, came in and out of the bar, but no sign of anyone meeting Stephen’s description. After about a half an hour though, he showed up.

He smiled when he saw Ebon and sat down next to him. “Hey there, I’m Stephen.”

Ebon was amazed at just how pretty this young man was. The pictures that Stacey had shown him did not do him justice. His skin was a shade or two darker than Ebon’s. His hair was the color of dried apricots and curled softly against his head. Ebon longed suddenly to touch it. He was so full of lust, looking into Stephen’s hazel eyes and full lips. “I’m Ebon, Ebon Honda.”

“Like the car company?”

“It’s a more common name than people realize. It’s a little like the name Smith. My dad was Japanese.”

“Was?”

“I don’t talk to my parents. That’s all.”

“Your first name is unusual, too.” Stephen leaned a little closer and put his hand on Ebon’s upper thigh. His thumb moved slowly, but it was a maddening feeling, this persistent touch.

“Another fun parent story: my mother named me on the spot. She didn’t want to have kids and when my twin sister was born first, she named her Desdemona. Then she saw me, dark eyes, dark hair, and named me Ebon. She wasn’t a great mom.” In a way, he was grateful to be talking about his mother. Her tight lips and frown-lines dampened his desire which was building to critical levels.

Normally, he wouldn’t have minded, he would have taken Stephen…anywhere and done anything with him. But he was self-conscious now, especially since he’d spent a lot of time trying to find flattering clothes and he still looked fat. He was afraid that Stephen would be turned off by him and his soft stomach.

But Stephen smiled at him, almost a leer. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Ebon. I am eager to see what all the gossip is about.” He winked, and his hand that was on Ebon’s thigh moved up, slowly, bit by bit, until he cupped Ebon’s erection which was back at full strength.

Ebon felt his face flush and become hot. He ducked his head and said, “Your place or mine?”

“Mine. I live around the block in the new apartments.”

Stephen stood and stretched, his shirt lifting just a little to reveal his hard, flat stomach, the same kind of stomach Ebon had once had. When Ebon stood, he smoothed down the front of his own shirt and tried to suck in his gut. It worked a little.

He said goodbye to Miss Jenny and went outside with Stephen.

The air was cool, even though it was spring. Ebon lit a cigarette as he followed Stephen. He was telling Ebon about how he’d helped design the new building that he now lived in. He was an architect who had just moved to Cleveland from Chicago. He’d known Stacey in high school and had been happy to see her at the library last week.

“She had a crush on me in school, you know,” he said. They were at the door to the building and he turned his key in the lock with a loud snick.

“She has a crush on me, too,” Ebon said.

Stephen laughed. “She was always so unlucky! All of her crushes have been on gay guys.”

When they got to Stephen’s door, the younger man put his hand on Ebon’s back and walked inside with him. He closed the door, and then pivoted in one motion so that he pinned Ebon against the wall. Since Ebon was much taller and heavier than Stephen, he was able to do this only because he’d caught Ebon by surprise. He leaned into Ebon, standing on his tip-toes and repeated, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“From Stacey?”

“No, from everyone. You are quite a legend in some circles around here. Quite a big slut, weren’t you?”

His soft lips were inches from Ebon’s face, but he managed to sound cool when he said, “You’re the one who has me pinned to the wall. That’s the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”

Stephen said, “I want to know if all the stories are true, if you’re as good as everyone says you are.”

Ebon felt the little ball of fear he carried inside him expand, making his toes tingle and his gut tighten. “I hope I am, too. A lot has happened to me this year, you know?” He tried to laugh, but it came out sounding weird.

Stephen didn’t seem to notice. He leaned up to kiss Ebon, while his hands moved from Ebon’s chest and over Ebon’s stomach. Having his belly touched made him nervous, but Stephen didn’t say anything.

In fact, the longer Stephen’s fingers roved over his body and under his clothes, the more confidence Ebon gained. He began to take charge, maneuvering Stephen so that he was the one with his back to the wall, kissing along his jaw, his neck. He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his long, mocha-colored torso. He stared at his body for a moment, keeping the man at arm’s length, feeling muscles tremble in both of their arms. The moment’s pause allowed Ebon a chance to breathe, to feel, to try to immerse himself completely in the moment. He reminded himself that he was here, touching this handsome young man, and that this man wanted him, too.

He lifted his own shirt over his head, exposing his now soft belly. Stephen still didn’t say anything. Encouraged, Ebon guided him towards a couch where he undressed Stephen completely. He admired the body underneath him: it would be a joy to fuck him senseless.

This time, he didn’t feel divided as he had with Dean Faraji. This time, he felt whole and could lose himself completely to the act of lovemaking. Stephen was alternately underneath and on top of him. Mainly, Ebon fucked Stephen. He did it long and slow. When Stephen was begging for mercy, he knew he still had it, that he was still himself.