Graham parked his Volkswagen Taos in the gravel lot of a dingy, rectangular, brick building, atop which a patchy roof insinuated years of wear and neglect. It was Friday night, around 10:00 pm, and Graham was honestly proud of himself for following through with his plans. He’d been out past 10:00 pm more in the last two weeks than he had in the last two years, and it had been especially challenging tonight after his evening had dragged on indefinitely.
For a moment, he was convinced he’d plugged in the wrong address, but the map on his phone said otherwise, confirming he had reached the right destination. Next, he wondered whether Archie might be pulling some kind of prank, sending him to the worst bar in Des Moines as some kind of practical, inside joke. He knew Archie had an affinity for dive bars – their drinks spot last week hadn’t exactly been luxurious – but this place was downright shoddy.
He couldn’t imagine why or how Archie worked at a place like this, especially considering he’d mentioned the good tips. However, looking around the poorly lit parking lot, Graham noticed another surprising detail – the thing was full. Cars occupied nearly every space, and a row of vehicles had made their own spots along the back where the gravel gave way to a grassy field.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Graham got out of his car, let out a calming breath, and began to walk towards the front door. As he stepped inside, Graham’s senses were immediately overwhelmed.
Music pulsed over the speakers, drowning out the dull roar of the sizable crowd packed into the open room. Lights blazed pink and red and blue, bathing the crowd in a seductive, kaleidoscopic glow. A stage graced the back wall where a dj booth lorded over the sea of bodies like an altar, and the floor was packed with silhouettes moving to the beat.
As his eyes adjusted, Graham noticed these silhouettes more closely – their broad shoulders, cropped haircuts, and strong arms. His eyes jumped from figure to figure before reaching a reluctant conclusion – these anonymous bodies were all male.
The whole room, the whole bar in fact, was occupied by men of all ages.
A knot formed in his stomach as realization washed over him – he’d walked into a gay bar in the middle of the Friday night rush.
Graham’s neck grew hot as he tried to decide what to do. He’d all but promised Archie he’d make an appearance, and he would feel incomprehensibly stupid for letting himself get scared off so easily. But, at the same time, every nerve ending of his body went into high alert, as they so often do when one is dropped into a strange, new environment.
He took a deep breath and tried to take in his surroundings more closely. Men in their forties clustered around a cocktail table near the wall; boys in their twenties were grinding on the dance floor; two men about his age, donned in trucker jackets and caps, chatted between the dance floor and the bar, beer bottles held between their fingers; men of every age and variety filled in the gaps between these groups, diverse for its homogeneity. Graham’s eyes shifted focus from these two men to the wall behind them, where he noticed the most surprising sight yet.
Two bartenders hustled behind the crowded counter: one, a muscular jock in his late twenties or early thirties, short khaki shorts and a mesh tank top; the other, wearing only black skinny jeans and that silver chain necklace, was Archie.
Graham’s mouth went dry as he took in the sight of Archie’s bare torso. His lean figure was even more impressive than Graham had imagined, lean and toned. His chest was well-defined, his arms and shoulders round and muscular. His skin glowed in the colored lights, flawless and smooth, the ridges of his abs dancing as he moved. His jeans hung low, revealing just a glimpse of smooth skin disappearing beneath the waistband of his Calvin Kleins. Graham watched him work, mesmerized by his bicep flexing as he shook a cocktail shaker above his head, pouring the drink into a martini glass with an animated flourish. A smile adorned his face, showing the same relaxed confidence Graham had come to know him by.
He was…stunning.
Graham snapped out of his daze when he kicked the leg of a barstool. Without realizing it, he had crossed the room, drawn in by Archie like a moth to fluorescent light.
“What can I get ya?” called the other bartender, catching him completely off guard.
“Uh,” Graham began to stutter.
Just then, Archie looked up, and a beam of recognition illuminated his face.
“Graham!” he called with unabashed delight. “You made it!”
“I made it,” Graham repeated, cheeks warming.
“I’ll get this one, Coop,” Archie said to the other bartender.
“Whatever,” Cooper muttered, walking to the end of the bar where someone was flagging him down.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” As he spoke, he pressed his hands against the counter and leaned forward, all the muscles of his arms, his shoulders, even his chest activating at the pressure. Graham tried not to stare, forcefully redirecting his attention to Archie’s smiling face.
“Well,” he swallowed. “Neither can I!”
“You hit us on a crazy night! We usually aren’t this busy so early.”
“Yeah,” Graham nodded, looking again around the crowded room. “This place is packed!”
“What can I say, it’s a popular spot. What can I get ya?”
Graham was about to order his usual but stopped himself. If he wanted to stay for any length of time, he was going to need something a little stronger.
“Can I get an LIT?”
Archie tried to hide a smile. “So this is Friday Night Graham!”
“I can assure you, it’s not.”
They both laughed.
“Well,” Archie said as he grabbed four bottles of liquor from the shelf. “Either way, I’m glad you’re here!”
Graham sat on the empty barstool he’d just kicked a few moments ago and watched Archie mix his drink. He was surprised, even a little scandalized, by Archie’s shirtlessness, his body so flagrantly and casually on display. More than that, he exuded a sexuality here that was completely absent at the hotel, which only accelerated the confusing feelings that had been brewing in Graham’s mind. Archie, on the other hand, acted like it was the most natural thing in the world, looking completely at home in his exposed skin as if he’d never experienced a self-conscious thought in all his life. And so, taking that as permission, Graham allowed himself another look.
He had a tattoo on his ribcage, a grouping of roman numerals that expanded and contracted as his arms moved, and another – a simple, cursive script – just below his left collar bone. Dark hair under his arms matched his thick brows and the crown of his head, but the rest of his torso was completely smooth, glistening slightly with sweat. The chain necklace, the one that had captured Graham’s imagination just a week ago, fell across his collar bone and rested against the center of his chest. Graham’s eyes were drawn here by some invisible force, broken only when Archie placed a very full pint glass in front of him.
“Thank God,” Graham muttered. He reached into his pocket for his wallet, but Arche waved his hand away.
“First-timer discount,” he smiled.
Graham rolled his eyes. “You’ve gotta stop giving me free drinks. You’re gonna lose your job.”
“Don’t worry, winning people over with free drinks is, like, half our business model.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the other half?”
Archie paused for a second, thinking. “Loud music and shirtless men.”
Graham barked out a loud, surprised laugh. He was about to reply when Archie got flagged down by a man to Graham’s left. Archie shuffled over, took the man’s order, and immediately began mixing another drink. All the while, Graham’s eyes bounced between Archie and this man who had just ordered.
He looked to be in his late forties. He had a trim build, with a well-kept beard and perfectly coiffed hair, streaks of gray garnishing his temples. He wore a collared shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and had a nice watch on his left wrist – a Movado, by the look of it. He waited for his drinks with a refined poise and accepted them from Archie with a polite smile before carrying them off to a table at the other side of the room. At first glance, he seemed like someone Graham would run into at work, polished and professional, which, to Graham’s embarrassment, took him by surprise given his surroundings.
He took a long sip of his drink, feeling the liquor hit his stomach and immediately calm his nerves. He watched Archie work and let his head start to bob along to the music. It was way too loud for Graham’s taste, but as the alcohol went to work he could start to appreciate its infectious energy.
Even in his twenties, he’d never been one for going out to clubs. He appreciated a good brewery and the occasional cocktail lounge but tended to avoid anywhere that was too loud to hold a proper conversation. Here, however, he was grateful for the music. Alone in a room full of strangers, it acted as a sort of shield, a protective barrier, an excuse to be a part of everything without having to actually engage. He relished the anonymity.
Just as he settled into his solitude, he felt a presence at his side.
“Well hello there,” a raspy voice greeted. “Haven’t seen you around here before.”
“Uh,” Graham turned, startled. Sitting next to him was a man who had to be in his late sixties, at best. He had a balding head, wore thick glasses, and was dressed like he’d just come from the office. “No, I’m not from around here.”
“Says the handsome stranger,” the man teased. “Where ya in from?”
“Uh, Oklahoma City,” Graham confessed. His hand tightened around his drink, and he took another long sip.
“Cowboy,” the man laughed. “I’m Rodney Johnson.” He stuck out a hand, which Graham cautiously accepted.
“Graham Harris,” he choked out.
“Pleasure,” Rodney rasped. “What brings you to our neck of the woods?”
“Uh,” He glanced up at Archie, who was just passing two beer bottles over the counter. He pulled the towel that cascaded out of his back pocket and wiped his hands, making eye contact with Graham as he did. “Here for work.”
Seeing the obviously panicked expression on Graham’s face, Archie laughed and immediately walked over.
“Can I get you anything Rodney?” he asked, cutting off whatever Rodney had been saying a moment before.
“Oh, I was just saying hello to our handsome, new guest tonight.”
“Well, he’s my handsome guest, so don’t scare him off, okay?” Archie’s tone was friendly, but Graham detected a hint of authority behind the smile.
“I would never,” Rodney smiled. “I just wanted to introduce myself and offer to buy you a drink.” He looked at Graham intently. Graham’s cheeks started to burn.
“That’s kind of you, but I’m okay. No, thank you.”
Rodney shrugged. “Suit yourself, Handsome. You have a good night.”
“Thanks,” Graham mumbled.
“Thanks Rodney,” Archie said loudly as Rodney shuffled off across the room. He turned to Graham. “Sorry about that.”
Graham laughed uncomfortably. “Not your fault.”
Archie sighed. “He’s one of our Friday night regulars. Mostly just wanders around and hits on everyone, offers to buy people drinks. He’s a little awkward, but…he’s harmless.”
Graham smiled. “Well, I appreciate the rescue.”
“Anytime,” Archie grinned.
Graham took another long drink, draining at least half of the pint glass in one heavy gulp. Archie watched him, one eyebrow raised, an amused smile pulling at his lips. “Want another?”
“Please,” Graham said, the straw still in his mouth.
“You know, I gotta say,” Archie spoke as he filled another pint glass with ice. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”
“Yeah?” Graham asked, looking up at Archie. “Why’s that?”
“You know,” Archie shrugged. His eyes met Graham’s for a brief moment then returned to the drink. “I just wasn’t sure if this would be…you’re kind of place.”
“Well,” Graham blushed and cleared his throat. “If we’re being honest, this isn’t at all what I was expecting.”
“No?” Archie looked up.
“No. Full disclosure, I think this is the first gay bar I’ve ever been to.” He downed the rest of his drink.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry!” Archie laughed, his cheeks turning even pinker in the colored lights. “I swear I didn’t mean to ambush you! I guess I figured…I don’t know, I figured you’d look it up online ahead of time and, then, if you came, well…I don’t know.” Archie shook his head as he shelved the liquor bottles and began to top off Graham’s glass with the soda gun. He looked uncharacteristically embarrassed. “I should’ve warned you.”
“You know, any smart person probably would have looked it up ahead of time,” he grinned. “My dumb ass just typed it in and started to drive.”
“That’s some blind faith you got there,” Archie flashed a sympathetic grin and handed him a fresh drink.
“What can I say? I guess I just trust you,” Graham replied.
Archie’s eyes narrowed and a mischievous grin lit his face.
“What an honor,” he bowed sarcastically, but Graham could see his embarrassment already starting to dissipate. “I’ll try not to break it,” he added.
Graham’s stomach turned a flip. It was a silly comment, almost out of context, but it still spoke to something in him, some part of him he’d shared with Archie over the past week. A part of him Archie was seeing, acknowledging, and accepting. A part of him Archie wanted to protect.
His cheeks grew warm as he held Archie’s gaze, his breathing shallow. Between the lights, the music, and Archie’s bare skin, Graham started to get dizzy.
Or maybe that was just the alcohol finally taking effect.
Graham felt the rest of his inhibitions, his protective shell begin to slip off as his drink kicked in. He knew it was a strong one – he’d watched Archie make it – but the effect was surprisingly fast. He welcomed it, though, allowing the alcohol to carry him out of his own way, to make room for something new to transpire.
“We’ll just call this strike one,” Graham teased.
Archie laughed, scrunching his nose, an expression Graham hadn’t seen before. “Yeah, that’s fair!”
