The Vampire and the Man-Eater (17 page)

Snapping out of his thoughts, Brock waited as Eli climbed the ladder out of the pool. Looking over his shoulder, seeing Gary still sitting at their chairs, but staring at them, Brock moved closer to Eli.

"You done?" Eli caught his breath, pulling his goggles off his face.

"Yeah. You exclusive with Gary?"

"Why? I'm hoping we are."

"He just asked me for sex."

Eli turned to look at Gary.

"Eli?" Brock prodded.

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When his friend met his eye again, he said, "Life sucks, Brock. What the hell can you do?"

"I want to kick his ass."

"Forget it. He's just a kid."

"You better not get hurt by that mother-fucker."

"I won't now. Thanks for telling me."

"You want to tell him to fuck off?"

"No. I like the sex too much."

"Good. Use him. The asshole. But be careful."

"You're telling me that?" Eli roared with laughter.

Smiling wryly, Brock nudged him. "Shut up."

When they returned to where Gary was sitting, Gary immediately asked, "Did he tell you?"

Wiping his face with his towel, Eli replied, "Of course he did, Gary."

"You mad?"

"No. I suddenly don't give a crap about you any longer.

But I'm not mad."

Brock wouldn't have been as benevolent as Eli. Then again, if he could have some of Daniel instead of none? Who knows?

"Can we do another three-way?"

"No!" both Brock and Eli shouted in sync.

"Fuck this, Eli. Tell him to get lost and let's grab lunch somewhere."

Taking a minute to consider, Eli replied, "Why don't I call you later? I think you've made yourself unwanted at the moment."

"Sorry, Eli." Gary climbed off the lounge.

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"Sure you are."

Brock touched Eli's arm and gestured to the Jacuzzi. They walked into a dimly lit room and eased into the hot tub. Once they were churning in the bubbling heat, Brock leaned against Eli and asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. I never thought it would work in the long run. He's just too young."

"He is, Eli. And he's not ready to be monogamous."

"You never know. Even the most promiscuous man may eventually grow tired of it and want a real, loving relationship."

Reading Eli's knowing smirk, Brock replied, "Ha. Ha."

"Hey, I thought you'd be the last gay man on earth to settle down. It just takes the right man, Brock."

"I'm not settled down. I'm not even sure I have a relationship." Brock watched as two older men joined them in the pool. Though he didn't know them, he imagined they were gay, loving, in a committed relationship for the last twenty years, and madly in love. Most likely they were married men and just friends. But Brock fantasized about a life where you could be so in love you cherished growing old with that person, and had no other needs but to love and be loved by them.

Growing old? Only he would grow old. Daniel would look like he does now forever. Smooth skinned, clean shaven, and in his mid-twenties. Lucky fucker.

"He'll call."

"He never calls. He pops by."

"Then he'll pop by." Eli leaned back against the tiled ledge.

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Before he thought more about it, Brock asked, "Do you believe love conquers all, Eli?"

Peering under a heavy eyelid at him, Eli answered, "I don't believe in anything at the moment."

"Did Gary really hurt you just now?"

"Yes. Okay? He did. I was lulled into imagining we had initiated a committed relationship."

"That sucks!" Brock growled, gnashing his teeth in anger.

His voice echoed off the walls and the men stared at him.

"Take it easy, Brock. Believe me, it's not the first time I've been let down, and I won't commit suicide or drink myself to death, okay?" After a pause, Eli added, "This is about you and Daniel, isn't it?"

Brock rubbed his face in agony. "I am going to commit suicide or drink myself to death."

"Please tell me you're kidding."

Taking a look at the nosy people lingering, Brock asked,

"You done soaking?"

"Yes. Come on. Let's shower and get something to eat."

After they climbed out, Eli put his arm around Brock's shoulder, walking him to the locker.

Brock knew if he didn't hear from Daniel soon, he would go crazy.

* * * *

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Eli was devouring his black beans and
ropa vieja
while Brock barely touched his
pargo en camisa
. Though it tasted great he had lost his appetite. Something he'd been doing a lot of since Daniel went on his "trip".

"You want to try my red snapper? It's really good, Eli."

"That's breaded with plantains or something, right?"

"Yes. Try it." Brock cut a section, setting it on Eli's plate.

"You want some of my steak?"

"I'll taste a bite." Brock watched Eli scoop a large portion.

"No! No, just a nibble."

Taking some on his fork, Eli held it out for Brock. Leaning over the table, Brock ate it off Eli's fork. "Nice. Really nice."

"You want to switch plates?"

"No. No, it's not that, Eli. I'm so heartsick I can't think straight and I've lost my appetite."

The expression on Eli's face turned dead serious. "Brock, tell me what's really going on."

"If I did you wouldn't believe me."

"Try me."

Sitting back, chugging the remainder of his drink, Brock said, as if it was a dare, "Okay. You want to know?"

Eli waved the waiter down. "Another round of drinks, please." When he was acknowledged, Eli met Brock's eyes.

"Shoot."

"Fine!" Brock threw up his hands at the futility. "You know all the bloodletting and fetish talk?" Eli nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable suddenly. "He's a fucking vampire!"

After a minute in which Eli appeared startled, he then broke up with laughter, choking in hysteria.

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Crossing his arms over his chest in fury, Brock snarled,

"Thanks, Eli."

The waiter appeared with their fresh drinks.

"Take this. I'm done." Brock handed him his plate.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"Just keep the drinks coming."

The waiter nodded and left.

"Brock, come on," Eli moaned skeptically. "A vampire?"

"I don't want to talk about it if you think this is funny."

Taking another bite of his meal, Eli chewed, staring at Brock. Once he swallowed he asked, "Are you serious?"

"I'm deadly fucking serious."

"Do you mean the Hollywood kind? What exactly do you mean, Brock?"

"Oh, no. That's what I thought too, Eli. I thought it was all a gag. Fake fang implants, contacts on his eyes, one big joke."

"Fangs?"

"You better believe it." Brock took another deep drink of his booze.

Eli finished eating and moved his plate aside. "So, this blood fetish, he was actually drinking your blood?"

"Yes. He was drinking my blood."

"Holy shit. But don't 'real' vampires kill people?" Eli thought about what he had said. "Are we really having this conversation?"

"You think
you
can't believe it?" Brock scoffed at the absurdity.

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"Wait a minute." Eli held up his hand. "Are you telling me you are in love with a vampire?"

"Yeah. Funny, huh?"

"Brock, this is not making any sense to me."

"Imagine my world." Brock finished his drink too quickly, yearning ten more.

When the waiter returned to clear the plates, Brock ordered tequila. The coconut drinks weren't strong enough for what he needed.

Once the waiter vanished again, Eli leaned over the table so they could speak softly. "Brock, if what you're telling me is true, stay the hell away from the guy. He's deadly and not one to be messing with."

"Are you kidding me?" Brock heard his voice crack from his emotions. "I love him, Eli! I am so fucking insanely in love with him I can't function without him. Stay the hell away? Are you fucking joking? I'd sell my soul to be with him."

"Shut up. Don't even joke about that kind of shit."

The waiter returned and set down a shot of tequila along with a slice of lime and salt. Brock thanked the man, ordering another before he had even downed the first. "Better yet, bring a bottle."

"Yes, right away." The waiter left.

"You think getting drunk is a good idea?" Eli warned.

Brock licked the salt he had sprinkled on his hand, threw back the tequila, sucked the lime wedge, and shivered at the burn. When he could choke out a word he replied, "Yes."

"Jesus, Brock. You are so damn fantastic you could have any gay, bi, or even turn any straight man in Manhattan. But 172

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no. You go for the one creature ... yes, a creature, who isn't even human, and fall in love. And you think Gary is bad for me? Don't even get me started on how damaging Daniel could be to you."

Finally feeling the alcohol, Brock noticed the waiter returning with a full bottle. Watching him open the seal and pour another shot, setting a plate of limes on the table near it, Brock licked his lips. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome."

Eli watched as Brock downed two more shots.

"Have one." Brock held out the bottle.

"I'm fine."

"More for me."

"Have you been getting drunk every night?"

"No. Actually I haven't. I kept thinking Daniel would pop in and I wanted to be sober for that argument."

"Pop in? Is that what he does? Sort of materializes?"

"No. Nothing like that. He just shows up. He got into my place once. I have no idea how. But I gave him my keys so he doesn't have to perform his '
magic
'." Brock raised his fingers to demonstrate quotation marks for the last word. Sprinkling salt on his hand, he prepared for his fourth shot.

"You know you're going to be puking if you keep it up."

"Last one." Brock tossed it down his throat, set the glass down, bit the lime and signaled no more. "Phew. I'm going to be toast very soon."

"I was thinking of dessert. Can you survive sitting there?"

"Yeah. I'm fine now." Brock capped the bottle and sat back, ready for the inebriation to slap him senseless.

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While Eli read the dessert menu, Brock wanted the booze to make him forget. But at the moment it was making him more emotional. He hated soppy drunks.

Staring at the plate of chocolate cake with coconut ice cream that Eli had ordered, Brock began to feel the alcohol saturate his bloodstream. Vaguely he wondered if Daniel sucked his blood when he was drunk, if Daniel would get drunk as well. It was worthy as an experiment.

Resting his elbows on the table as he watched Eli consume the sweet treat, Brock said, "You know he can make me come for an hour straight."

"No one can do that."

"Daniel can. And I don't need lube. I can just shove it up his ass and he never gets raw or sore. The minute he touches me I get hard and begin climaxing. I see colors ... I swear, blue, purple..."

"Man, are you drunk."

"I'm drunk, but I'm serious. And he has no scent. I sniff like crazy at his balls and pits. Nothing. I wish he smelled. I miss that man smell."

"No smell? Nothing?"

"Nope." Brock felt another wave of intoxication wash through him. "Wow. I don't remember being this drunk for a long while."

Eli finished his cake, wiping his lip on his napkin.

"And when I suck his dick? I feel like I'm sucking my own.

It's weird."

Eli laughed. "Like sucking your own dick?"

"Yes. I suck his, and I feel like he's sucking mine."

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"Wow."

"And when I lie on his chest? No heartbeat. Oh! And no reflection in the mirror either. I forgot that. That was how he convinced me. I didn't believe him. No way. Who would?"

"Let's get the check. I need to get you home, Mr. Hart."

"My treat. Let me. For allowing me to tell you his secret.

Shit. Don't tell anyone you know. He may have to kill all of us or something." Brock handed Eli two hundred dollar bills.

Eli handed him one back. "I hope you're not serious."

Brock shrugged. "I don't know if I am or not."

After Eli took care of the check, he held Brock around the elbow and helped him walk out on his own two feet.

Once they were standing on Seventh Avenue waiting for a taxi, Brock shouted, "Daniel! Where are you!?" at the top of his lungs.

Pedestrians on the busy thoroughfare stared at him.

"Jesus, Brock, what am I going to do with you?" Eli managed to hail a cab.

"Find me my Daniel." Brock's bottom lip began to tremble from his emotions.

"Three hundred West Fifty-Second Street, please," Eli told the driver as they climbed into the back seat.

As they drove off, Brock began to sob.

"Oh, babe, come here." Eli put his arm around Brock's shoulder.

Humiliated, on his ass drunk, miserable, Brock wanted to hide under a rock and die.

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When the cab stopped at his building, he managed to climb out. As Eli did, Brock held him back. "It's okay, Eli, you don't need to baby-sit me any longer."

"You sure? I can stay for a while. In case you get sick."

"No. Don't worry. Go home."

When Brock tried to give Eli more cash for the cab, Eli pushed his hand away. "I'll call you later. Just to see how you are."