Page 27 of Bassist With Benefits
They remained tethered together by one hand while they each pulled the cord on their shoots. The wind pulled them high into the sky and broke their embrace. They were no longer careening toward land, but floating above it as light as a bird. Watching the horizon while gently gliding down from heaven was magnificent. It was a lazy descent back to Earth under the open sky. Alan was several yards away, but they were able to make eye contact, and Alan gave Jeremy the thumbs up. Jeremy shot back a pair of rock and roll horns, proving that they were still connected even hanging on a breeze thousands of feet in the air.
Seconds later, Jeremy’s feet were on the ground. The parachute came to a billowy rumble behind him as it deflated onto the grassy surface, and he unlatched it. The same rumble echoed next to him as Alan landed.
Alan quickly disconnected his shoot, ran to Jeremy and squeezed a hug onto his shoulder. “Pretty fucking awesome!”
The blood surged in Jeremy’s chest as he returned a one-shoulder hug. The gesture hadn’t been shared for a long time, and it had Jeremy sailing higher than their jump from the plane.
Derek grabbed them each by a sleeve of their jackets and pulled them toward Brandon and Cam. “Let’s see who wins this bet!”
The way Cam was carrying on made Jeremy consider that Derek may have very well won. Cam’s arms were flailing wildly while he paced in a small circle in front of Brandon. Jeremy couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he was ranting, speaking quickly, and loudly.
As soon as Cam saw the three of them approach, he raced toward them with both hands up for a double high-five. “Wooo!” he shouted as he slapped their palms. “That was fuckin’ awesome! My heart is pounding!” He shook Jeremy by the shoulders. “I just jumped out of a plane!”
“I know.” Jeremy laughed at Cam’s enthusiasm. “I was right next to you.”
Derek was inspecting Cam’s jeans for telltale signs of who won the bet. He wasn’t inconspicuous about it either, bending over and looking closely at Cam’s front and back.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Brandon asked. “Can you get your nose out of my guy’s crotch?”
“It doesn’t look like he pissed,” Derek replied. “But he could have crapped his pants.” He straightened up and looked Cam in the eye. “You got a load back there?”
“What?” Cam chuckled at the absurd question.
“We had a bet on whether you’d piss or shit your pants,” Derek explained. “But I think we can rule out number one.”
Alan had his hand over his mouth, trying to suppress his laughter and grappling with keeping a straight face. He grabbed hold of Jeremy’s arm and pressed his forehead into the globe of Jeremy’s shoulder, still sputtering bits of laughter.
Jeremy was shell-shocked. The close proximity. The body contact. It ignited a rumble in his chest that flushed his cheeks.
“He didn’t shit his pants,” Brandon said, removing the hair tie from his long ponytail. “You guys are fucking nuts.”
“We need evidence,” Derek said. “Drop ‘em, Cam.”
Alan wiped the corners of his eyes and silently laughed into Jeremy’s shoulder.
“I’m not dropping my pants,” Cam answered.
“C’mon,” Derek coaxed. “I’ve got two bills riding on this. Are you sure you didn’t shit just a little bit? Did you fart?” He turned to Jeremy and Alan and held up his index finger as if he was declaring an important stipulation. “If there’s a stain in his underwear, it counts. If there’s a stain, I win.”
Alan was hanging onto Jeremy’s arm, now laughing so hard that it shook both of them.
As Derek tried to unbuckle Cam’s belt, Brandon tried to pull Derek off of Cam. Jeremy started to laugh, softly at first, then so hard he doubled over and tears seeped from the corners of his eyes. He needed to hang onto Alan’s arm, as hard as Alan was hanging onto him, so he didn’t fall over. Their laughter slowed, with intermitted bouts of cackling. As they wiped their eyes, they glanced at one another and it suddenly turned serious. Their lips straightened, no longer curled into even the tiniest of smiles, and their posture stiffened. Their eyes bore into one another, each reading so much more than friendship. It was there. That little spark they shared was as bright as the blazing sun. Jeremy had longed to see it for so many years. He often imagined it. He swore once or twice that he saw a shadow of a glimmer in those beautiful silver eyes, but not today. The spark they shared right at this moment could have started a forest fire. It was finally real, and it made the hair on Jeremy’s arms stand on end. A flutter rose from his belly and danced around his chest. His breath caught. He was frozen in place. The only thing he could do was stare back at the man he loved and wanted… for so God damn long.
Their connection was broken by Derek waving two one-hundred dollar bills between them. “You win. Cam wouldn’t strip, but he let me smell his butt. He’s clean.”
Brandon and Cam joined their little circle, and Jeremy and Alan were forced to break their gaze, but not before casting one last longing look back at the other.
CHAPTER NINE
Alan watched Jeremy from across the room. They were at a gay bar in Austin and had just been entertained by a bunch of drag queens that lip-synced everything from Lady Gaga to Liza Minnelli. Jeremy stood at the bar, laughing with a Cher impersonator and squeezing her rubber boobs. Brandon and Cam sat by themselves in a cozy booth in the corner, sharing a tender kiss.
Derek fell into the spot next to Alan on the shiny red pleather couch and handed Alan a Jack and Coke. It was strong. There was no skimping on the alcohol at this joint. It was only Alan’s second drink, and his head was already buzzing. “I think Jeremy’s got a thing for Cher.”
Derek snickered. “You mean a thing for foam rubber.”
Alan continued to watch Jeremy poke at the drag queen’s fake boobs with a smile of his face. If they were the real thing, Jeremy wouldn’t have gone near them with a 10-foot pole.
“I’m glad everything’s cool between you and him now.”
