10. BRUNO

As we left the first bar, the buzz from the mojitos was coursing through us; well, that and whatever adventure we were on now. The hit of the alcohol spread through my body and quickened my step. All around us, the murmur of street conversations blended with the occasional blare of car horns. The sidewalks teemed with life, with the New York night. The aroma of street food wafted through the air. Women with strong perfume walked past us and left their trail. I seemed astonishingly alert to the possibility of the evening.

Danny walked beside me, his steps quicker, merrier, now, his laughter and chatter ringing out into the night. The energy of the city seemed to invigorate him, and he kept saying he had never been to a gay bar before.

"What, never?" I asked.

"No, never."

Danny's excitement danced in the air. As we approached the second bar, anticipation hummed, a palpable energy, the city, surrounded and enveloped us.

Ahead, the pink neon sign of the second bar flickered invitingly. A rainbow flag hung out over the sidewalk. There was no mistaking what this was.

Arriving at the blacked-out windows and the heavy steel door with only a grimy porthole to see out, we exchanged glances, our smiles mirroring the excitement that was all around us.

"Ready?" I asked.

He grinned.

"I'm ready. Let's begin the adventure!"

I laughed and shook my head. He was being really charmingly goofy.

As we stepped into the new bar, a wave of pink light washed over us. The hard, metallic surfaces that adorned the interior glinted in candy-sweet shades. The room throbbed with the pulsating beat of dance music reverberating in the walls despite the relatively sparse crowd. Or maybe because the crowd was so small, the music seemed too loud.

I glanced around, taking in the dimly lit ambiance and the smattering of patrons. The men who were there cast fleeting glances in my direction, their eyes lingering longer on Danny, drawn to his masculine form, his straightness. Then they looked at me, too, as if to say, "How did he end up with him?"

I felt a pang of insecurity, inadequacy even. Surrounded by these hungry gazes, I couldn't help but feel unremarkable in comparison to Danny. But then he turned to me and grinned.

"Come on, man," he said, and then he put his arm around my shoulder. In a straight bar, it would have seemed just a gesture of friendship. But in this place, it had many possible meanings.

Together, we stepped further into the depths of the bar. We settled onto barstools, the cool surface of the counter surprising on my fingertips. The pink light seemed to rub us clean of any defects, any wrinkles, any blemishes. A mirror behind the bar reflected our images back to us. I caught myself stealing glances in that mirror, at myself, at Danny, observing the way his eyes roamed the bar, taking in every detail, and at the two of us together. How did we look? How did we seem?

The rhythmic beat of the dance music intertwining with the low murmur of conversation added a thrumming energy to the place. A small dance floor at the other end of the space might have beckoned to a few adventurous souls, but no one went up there and then. It was that weird moment when dancing seems totally inappropriate. Who wants to go dancing on their own?

In the corner, bathed in a soft glow, two figures embraced in a passionate kiss, of the sort that looked like they hadn't known each other thirty minutes before.

I couldn't help but wonder if Danny, who hadn't really experienced this kind of environment before, would be okay. But he seemed totally relaxed and began to chatter happily, both with the bartender from whom he ordered more mojitos and with me. He bounced along to the beat, too. I sensed that he might actually be able to dance.

Our drinks were made, two icy glasses glistening with condensation, rammed with mint, promising further intoxication. As the bartender set them down, a subtle flirtation danced in his eyes, lingering a moment on Danny, who just grinned at him and said, "Thanks, man." Danny handed my drink to me. "Here you go, Bru."

"Thanks," I said, and I caught the bartender's eyes a moment, tinged with a low jealousy.

As the beats thudded around us, Danny and I talked about Evan's future. With each sip of our mojitos, we seemed to grow more serious. It was hardly what you would expect from a place like that.

"I just want Evan to have some stability, you know?" I said, sighing.

Danny nodded.

"I get it, man. Stability is everything, especially for kids."

"It's just tough, you know? Wanting to provide for him, to make sure he's okay. And now, Kelly will be gone for months. And with Kelly…"

"You can't count on her to come back?"

I shrugged.

"I mean, I hope she comes back! But in truth, I can only count on Kelly to want what she wants."

Danny placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"You're doing the best you can. That's all anyone can ask for. Whatever happens, it'll work out."

I smiled gratefully. I was not sure he was right, but it was at least nice that someone wanted to comfort me. I had missed that. Actually.

"Thanks, Danny. I appreciate that."

Our conversation carried on easily. As the night wore on, we grew more and more comfortable with each other.

I would like to say that it was like we had just entered into our old friendship, but of course, we hadn't really been friends back then. It was actually more like we were meeting for the first time and discovering a new stranger with whom you feel this unexpectedly intense connection. We had joked about meeting people in real life, but here we were, doing it.

We ordered another drink, and being a bit of a lightweight, I felt my head starting to swim. Danny's tongue was loosening, too.

"I can't wait to read your novel," he exclaimed, taking a whole ice cube into his mouth, talking as if he was gargling. "I bet it's going to be amazing," he said, the ice cube still on his tongue. He cracked the ice in his teeth and then swallowed it. "You might have to sign my copy when it hits the shelves."

I laughed.

"Shut up, man!"

We were still talking that way, "buddy" and "man." Maybe that was what straight guys did all the time!

"No, I'm totally serious," he said.

I chuckled, and then so did he.

"Well, I'll hold you to that, Danny."

As the night progressed, the clinking of glasses and the laughter of patrons melded into one blur of booze and noise. We moved on from mojitos to Americanos, and the Campari hit me hard.

"Alcohol watered down with alcohol, that's a good idea," I joked, as my head felt like it was swimming.

"An amazing idea!" he cried, lifting his glass in a toast.

A warm flush crept into my cheeks.

"I think these drinks are starting to get to me," I confessed, a light-hearted laugh as I drew the back of my hand across my brow as if I was ready to faint.

Danny grinned, his gaze bright with mischief. "That's the sign of a good night, my friend."

"Is it?" I laughed.

"Embrace it," Danny said. "Embrace the excess."

I gave him a jokily firm look.

"Well, enjoy it. Tomorrow night we are staying in, looking after a hyperactive five-year-old."

He held his glass in the air.

"More drinks!" he yelled, as a joke, and people across the bar looked at him and raised their glasses in jest.

The opening bars of "Sorry" by Beyoncé came on, and then her voice, so clear and bright and fearless, cut across the room. I couldn't help but sway to the beat, tapping my fingers against the bar. Danny was staring at me.

"What?"

A knowing glint danced in his eyes as he leaned closer.

"I love her, too," he confessed with a wonderful lightness.

"No way!"

"Straight dudes like me aren't supposed to admit we like Beyoncé, but I think she's great."

"No way!"

He looked back across the room.

"Do you wanna dance?"

"What?"

He turned back to me and drew his face close to mine.

"Do you wanna dance?"

"Are you sure?" I asked, my voice tinged with disbelief.

Danny leaped from his seat and grabbed my hand, pulling me from mine.

"Let's go!" he declared, and we tumbled down toward the empty dancefloor.

The music enveloped us. He threw his arms in the air and made shapes across the dancefloor with a beguiling lack of inhibition. Danny's laughter mingled with the melody, his infectious grin lighting up the moment.

As we danced, our bodies brushed against one another. I felt his shape, hard, muscular, lean, masculine, bump against mine, sending sparks of electricity coursing through me. I felt Danny's presence – his sexual presence – seep into me, touching every nerve ending in my body.

Then, he moved behind me and grabbed me by the waist. Just for a moment, I felt his bulge brush against my butt. Time seemed to stand still, the world fading before the shock of his touch. Our bodies moved as one, and just for a moment, I wondered if I could feel something in that bulge. Was he getting hard?

In the heat of the moment, as our bodies pressed together in a dance as old as time itself, I couldn't help but be acutely aware of the intoxicating proximity between us. The scent of his cologne filled my senses, mingling with the heady aroma of sweat and music, a potent cocktail that stirred something primal deep within me.

Danny's touch pulsed through me, igniting a wave of desire. His hands on my body, gripping me from behind, in a position in which Marlon liked to fuck me, which I had loved, surrendering to his manliness. In that suspended moment of desire, the boundary between friendship and something more blurred.

The song ended, and we broke apart, looking at each other, as I turned to face him. The music stopped and we were caught in such a strange, unexpected intimacy. Our gazes locked in a silent exchange of longing but also embarrassment. Was it just the drinks talking? Was that all it was?

Another song came on. We could have kept dancing.

"Shall we go back to our seats?" he asked, sheepish all of a sudden.

"Sure," I said, and then I giggled a bit, too drunk for this. "Sure…"

All of a sudden, we were back where we had been at the start, just two friends on a night out.