They say that it takes twice as many muscles to frown as it does to smile.
To which we say, Shut up and stop being so fucking lazy. This shit takes work; payback ain't meant to be a party.
To which we say, Shut up and stop being so fucking lazy. This shit takes work; payback ain't meant to be a party.
Smile by Garrett Calcaterra
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Walter
pulled the sheets up over his waist as he watched Mikey rinse his mouth in the
bathroom sink of their hotel room. Mikey wasn’t really Walter’s type—too
serious, too many piercings and tattoos, and way too young—but something about him drove Walter wild. Being with
Mikey was like partaking in a forbidden fruit; it made Walter feel alive again,
like he hadn’t felt since his twenties, before his career, before Ben. Walter
felt a small pang of guilt for cheating on Ben, but it was Ben’s own damn fault
their sex life had devolved into what it was.
“So
what’ll it be, stud?” Walter asked. “Room service or shall we get dressed up
and head to the restaurant?”
Mikey,
still nude and gloriously lithe, padded to the foot of the bed and tossed aside
the hand towel he’d used to dry his face. “I have a secret to tell you.”
The non
sequitur threw Walter for a second, but he passed it off as an idiosyncrasy of
today’s youth. “A secret, hmm? Is it a naughty one?”
“I’m not
gay,” Mikey said.
Walter
raised one eyebrow. “I would beg to differ. If I’m not mistaken, you just gave
me a blowjob, and quite a fabulous one at that I might add.”
“You don’t
have to be gay to suck dick. I’ve been blowing dudes since I was fourteen for
meth, heroin, you name it.”
The
thought of it repulsed Walter, but at the same time excited him a little. He
felt himself stiffen beneath the sheets. “And what of the sex?”
Mikey
snorted a short humorless laugh. “My first couple of times were in juvie. I
fought the guys off at first, but that only made it hurt worse. After a while I
got used to it. It’s just my body. Not any different than sticking a needle in
me, or busting up my knuckles on a wall.” Mikey strode to his duffle bag and
pulled out an old Polaroid photo. He handed it to Walter. “You remember this
guy?”
Walter
stared at the picture. It was a middle-aged man in a polo and khakis. Walter
remembered him all right. He was one of the straight married men Walter had
fucked when he was younger. It had been a sort of sport back then, to seduce
straight guys. He’d done it often before settling down with Ben.
“Jesus,
where’d you get this?” Walter asked, looking up at Mikey. “It was probably from
before you were born.”
“I nabbed
it from a photo album at my mom’s place. One of the last pics we have of my
dad.”
“Your
dad?” A sick feeling irradiated from Walter’s gut.
“Yep,
maybe even the last photo we have of him before he ate a gun,” Mikey said,
turning away and shuffling back to his duffle bag.
Walter was
overcome with sudden paranoia, certain Mikey was going to grab a pistol from
his bag, maybe the one his dad had killed himself with. Walter vaguely
remembered hearing about one of the guys he’d slept with killing himself. It
was all so long ago.
“Oh no,
no,” Walter said, his breath getting caught up in his throat. “I’m sorry. I
know how you must feel, but I promise you, I never meant to ruin anyone’s
family.” Walter scrambled towards the edge of the bad, started to get up, but
remembered he was naked, and huddled back onto the mattress with the sheets
clutched at his chest. “It was just a bit of fun. I was a kid, for crying out
loud.”
Mikey
turned to face him, a clean pair of underwear in his hands, not a gun. “No, I
was the fucking kid, asshole! I was only seven. I was the one who found him.”
“Oh god.
What are you going to do to me?”
Mikey
stared at him placidly as he put his underwear on, somehow calm, though Walter
was near hyperventilation. “Nothing,” Mikey said. “Just wait.”
“Wait for
what?”
Out in the
hallway someone knocked at their door.
“For that,”
Mikey said. “I texted ol’ Ben, your hubby, while you were in the can. Told him
to get here ASAP, that you had a romantic surprise for him.”
The
knocking at the door continued. Insistent.
“Do you
suppose he brought flowers?” Mikey asked, and for the first time ever, Walter
saw him smile.
