SquidgeWorld Archive

Alan was emotionally exhausted when he arrived at his hotel room ... it had been a long day. As he slipped his card key into the lock, he tried to decide which had been more draining; getting Shirley to drop the charges against Jerry, or 'getting to know' Bev.

As the door opened, he decided it was a toss-up.

He dropped his briefcase by the door, slipped out of his trench-coat, and went to the bar ... drink in hand, he collapsed into a chair and closed his eyes.

"Mr. Shore," a quiet voice interrupted his thoughts; Alan jumped slightly at the sound of the voice, thinking he was alone in his rooms.

"Jerome, you startled me," he said, as he stood to face the young man. He had assumed that the two paralegals from Harvard that he had temporarily employed to assist him in Jerry's case would have both been long gone by the time he got home ... after all, he had notified them some time ago that the charges had been dropped, and their service would no longer be needed.

"Sorry, sir," the young man answered shyly, then went on, "I stayed behind to get all of the files organized for you, and ... well, I ..."

"What," Alan asked a bit testily. Right now, all he wanted was to be alone with his thoughts.

"I, um ... fell asleep," the young man barely whispered.

Realizing that this kid was terrified of him, Alan smiled, stepped closer to the young man, and placed his arm around his shoulder, as he said, "That's all right, Jerome ... I pushed you two pretty hard these past few days." Just then, he looked toward his bedroom door, and asked, "Is Betsy still here?"

"No," he answered quickly, seeing where Alan was looking, he hastily added, "she had a lecture to attend, and left right after you called. I never ..."

"Don't worry about it," Alan said with a smile. He had assumed that Betsy was not Jerome's type; Jerome's reaction to his implied suggestion seemed to confirm his suspicions. Alan smiled just a bit more, as he decided that perhaps he didn't need to be alone just now. Looking at his watch, he asked, "Have you had dinner yet?"
"No, I'll probably just pick something up on the way home," Jerome replied, as he went to get his coat.
"Why not join me?" Alan asked, as he, too, started to put on his coat. "Nothing fancy ... do you like steak?"
"Um ... yeah, I guess," Jerome said, uncertain of himself.

"Great, I know just the place," Alan said enthusiastically, as he patted the young man on the shoulder, and opened the door. "Let's go ... I'm famished," and he led the way to the lobby, and down the street to his favorite steakhouse.

****

"So, what did you think of Alan," Denny asked, as he slid into bed with Bev.

She snuggled up to him, her arm stretched across his belly, as she leaned in to kiss him. She could feel Denny's impatience, so she pulled away, and said, "I see why you like him. He's very straightforward, outspoken, brash ... and madly in love with you."

Denny sat up, sputtering, "He's my friend ... my confidant. He respects me, and looks up to me ... but he is NOT in love with me!"

"Oh yes he is," Bev assured him, trying to sooth his anxiety by continuing, "probably not in a romantic way, but certainly as more than a friend." She could see the scepticism in Denny's eyes, so added, "From our short acquaintance, I can tell that he is the type of person who only speaks his mind when he really cares about someone. After all, if he didn't care if someone's actions would be detrimental to that person, what would be the point of pointing out the inevitable?"

"True," Denny agreed, adding, "but I've seldom seen him keep his opinions to himself, no matter what the consequences."

"That's probably because he is, deep down, a very caring individual," she said, with a kiss, "who feels he has a certain reputation of aloofness to uphold. How better to remain the 'bad boy' of the office than by speaking your mind, regardless of how your words are interpreted by the recipient?"

"You know," Denny said, as he rolled onto his side, caressing Bev's hip, "you're a lot like Alan," and then he proceeded to kiss her passionately as his hands continued to roam over her body.

When she was able to take a breath, she whispered, "I'll take that as a compliment," then forgot all about Alan Shore, as Denny Crane made love to her.

****

Alan arrived at his office the next morning, and was pleased to see that the Chinese Wall had come down like the proverbial Walls of Jericho; no more averted eyes, as he walked down the hallway; no more blank stares from his co-workers when he asked for an opinion. His assistant was back from purgatory, smiling as she handed him a cup of coffee. To all outward appearances, all was well with the world ... Alan had even slept soundly the previous night, with hardly a thought for Denny Crane.

His dinner with Jerome had been surprisingly relaxing ... the young man shared his taste in theater and art, and once he got over his initial shyness, was a pleasant conversationalist. By the end of the evening, they had made plans to get together the following Friday evening to go to Symphony Hall to see the BSO, as they were celebrating Mozart's 250th birthday. He would make a reservation for dinner before the concert, and after ... well, he'd see how things went.

"Bev likes you," Denny said as he walked into Alan's office, startling the younger man out of his reverie.

Alan looked up, and said with a smile, "Good, I know how important that is to you."

"Yes," Denny confided, "I ... well, I'm sort of possessed by a certain amount of fear over having to choose between the two of you ... I couldn't stand it if the two most important people in my life didn't get along."

"Denny, I assure you, I'll never make you choose between us," Alan said with a smile. Gesturing to Denny to take a seat, he went on to say, "By the way, I've met someone."

Sitting in the offered chair, he said, "You have! That's wonderful ... bring her to the wedding."

Taken aback by this sudden invitation, he said, "Denny, we've only just met ... who knows if things will work out between us." Alan braced himself for Denny's reaction to his next few words, "We have a date Friday night, if it goes well, I might feel more comfortable asking him to join me at your wedding, but I'll make no promises now."

"Him?" Denny said quietly, then after a moment, added, "I see. Well, I must go," and he stood, looking a bit confused at his friend, as he stammered, "I've got ... a case ... or something ... to work on." And with a final look at Alan, he walked out of his office.

Alan hadn't been sure how Denny would take the news. Part of him had assumed that Denny's self-professed homophobia would come through, ending in a lecture about how such a relationship could be detrimental to his career. But disapproval had not been in his eyes. If Alan didn't know better, he would have sworn that the look Denny had given him was one of betrayal ... abandonment ... loss.

Much like the look he had undoubtedly given Denny when he had announced his engagement to Bev. But Denny had most likely never noticed, or if he had, he did not understand what he had seen. Strange how a man such as Denny Crane could be so blind ... forever denying what he really wants, in order to conform to society's standards of morality. 'Funny, but that is part of why I love him,' Alan thought, as he returned his attention to the papers on his desk, finding something ... anything ... to take his mind off of Denny Crane.

*****

The week seemed to pass in a blur. Alan had successfully defended a woman accused of lewd behavior for exposing her breasts during a protest. Thanks to his skill, she would not be required to register as a sex offender. They had met previously, and he had considered asking her out ... had even flirted with her briefly ... but in the end, he hadn't. He was looking forward to his date on Friday with Jerome, and getting involved with this woman at the same time could only complicate his life more than it already was. With the level of tension between Denny and himself, he really didn't want any more complications just now.

Denny had been disappointed in him for not inviting him to the protest, and Alan had laughed as Denny yelled at the television for pixilating the images of the scene. When Denny begged to be included in the defense team, Alan tried to discourage him, assuring him that she would be fully clothed ... in the end, he relented, only to have Denny complain about how boring the case was.

Alan didn't mind, though ... working on the case, they were able to spend time together, without tension between them, which is all he really wanted. Each evening, as they met on Denny's balcony, they talked about work, and nothing else. No mention of Bev ... no questions about Jerome ... it was as if Denny decided to avoid the 'personal' for the time being.

But Alan enjoyed their personal moments, and missed them terribly. And now, as he approached Denny's office, they were going to have one of those personal moments ... it was inevitable, after all. Alan, for the first time since Tara left, was going to be begging off of their evening tradition of sharing a drink and a smoke, because he had a date.

Well, he'd beg off the cigar ... looking at his watch, he decided that he had the time to accept the drink Denny placed in his hand as he walked through the door. "I can't stay long," he said, as he took a sip of the scotch.
"Oh?" Denny asked as he puffed on his cigar.

"Jerome and I have plans," Alan said, adding when Denny looked at him quizzically, "dinner, followed by the Symphony. Mozart's birthday."

"Jerome," Denny said softly, as if trying to get a feeling for who this was simply by speaking his name. After a moment, he asked, "Who is he, and how did you meet him?"

"He's a paralegal ... from Harvard. One of the two that I hired while defending Jerry," Alan said, looking at Denny out of the corner of his eye, trying to assess his reaction to this news.

Strangely, Denny was uncharacteristically stone-faced, as he said, "a bit young for you, isn't he?"

"Perhaps," Alan agreed, then turned to face Denny, as he added, "but no younger than many members of the fairer sex that I have pursued over the years."

"Ah, but that's different," Denny said, pointing his cigar in Alan's face. "Men are *supposed* to chase after younger ladies ... it's in our nature."

"So I've been told," Alan conceded, then finished his drink, adding, "but you know, I've done my share of chasing ... both older and younger, men and women ... in the end, it's the person, not the age or gender, that matters." With that, he set his glass down, and said, "Good night, Denny. Give my love to Bev," and left the balcony.

*****

"You're home early," Bev said, as Denny walked through the door to his apartment.

He tossed his briefcase on the table, and hung his coat, as he said, "Alan had a date," then turned to the bar and poured himself a drink as he added, "with a man."

"Good for him," Bev replied with a smile.

"What do you mean, 'good for him'?" Denny demanded, adding, "do you have any idea how this could effect his career? I mean, if word got out around the Firm that he's queer ..."

"Denny," Bev interrupted, " I doubt there's anyone at the Firm who would be surprised by anything Alan Shore does ... up to, and including, dating a man." Denny looked at her appalled, and it was then that she realized what he truly feared. Taking his hands in hers, she kissed him, then said quietly, "My love, what Alan does is his own business ... and nobody holds his actions against you."

"You don't understand," Denny began, and tried to pull away from her, but she firmly held on.

"What, that you and Alan are close, and you fear that if everyone thinks he's gay, they'll think you are, too?" she asked, knowing that was exactly what he was thinking.

"Well, yes," he said, then shook his head as she tried to kiss him once more. "But there's more to it than that."
"Enlighten me, then, "she said, as she led him to the sofa, and sat.

"We've slept together," Denny blurted out, then hastily added, "but I refused to have sex with him." Bev remained silent, so Denny continued, "You see, he was having these 'night terrors' and needed someone to sleep with him to prevent him from falling off his balcony. His assistant did it for a while, but she said that, when it came right down to it, she didn't want the responsibility of saving his life, after the first time it happened."

"I see," Bev said pensively. "Tell me, did you ever save his life?"

"No. I slept with him for nearly two months, and he never once had one of his 'night terrors' while I was with him." Denny pondered this for a moment, then continued, "He told me that he felt safe with me."

"How long ago was that?" she asked.

"Not long ago," Denny said, unwilling to be specific about that.

Just then, Bev remembered something that Alan had said the first time they had met, and she asked, "You stopped sleeping with him when we met, didn't you?"

"Yes," Denny admitted, looking her in the eyes as he added, "Alan confided in me that it took him a couple weeks to get used to sleeping alone again."

"So, the fact that you've slept with him is common knowledge, I assume," she stated, and seeing his nod, she continued, "and the reason for your sleeping with him is also common knowledge?"

"Yes," Denny answered, then added, "but it doesn't matter ... everyone also knows that Alan loves me."

"Denny, they also know that you love *me*," and she proceeded to kiss him passionately, adding, "to assume that you are gay by your association with Alan, when you're engaged to a hot babe like me, would be simply foolishness on their part." Straddling him, she began to unbuckle his belt, then she winked and added, "and they may know that you slept with Alan when he needed a friend, but they have seen you have sex with me."

"True," Denny agreed, as he let himself be ravished by his lovely bride-to-be.

*****

Weeks passed, and Alan saw less and less of Denny, outside of office hours. If it hadn't been for a case they were working together, Alan wondered if he'd see Denny at all, as Bev had him running here and there, preparing for their wedding. But this case -- a man accused of assisted suicide of his wife, who was afflicted with Alzheimer's -- had him worried about his friend. A while back, Alan had promised to help Denny end his life, if he became incapacitated ... it had been a difficult promise to make. But as he and Denny discussed the case, he admitted to Denny that he didn't know if he could actually do it, if it came to that. He would, however, be adding an amendment to his own living will, asking for no heroic measures, should he revert to the mental equivalent of a child, due to accident or illness.

The seriousness of the situation seemed to bring them closer together for a time ... but Alan knew it wouldn't last. Denny and Bev were to be married in less than a week.

****

Things had been progressing slowly between Alan and Jerome ... dinner, concerts, movies ... all safe, 'getting-to-know-you' activities that had led to a bit of hand-holding, and a kiss or two, but nothing more. The fact that nearly three weeks had passed in this fashion surprised Alan in a way, yet he was oddly content.

As he showered and changed, in preparation for going to a club Jerome was eager to introduce him to, he wondered if tonight would finally be the night when they moved things to the next level. Strangely enough, a part of him had wanted to talk to Denny about it after work, while they were discussing his bachelor party. A crazy idea, of course. It was probably a good thing that he never got the chance, as Bev had arrived at the office earlier in the day, and taken Denny away.

Alan shook his head, trying to get Denny Crane out of his mind ... tonight, he would concentrate all his energy on Jerome ... and if he was lucky, the only serious discussions they'd be having would be about whether to call room service for breakfast, or go out.

****

The front desk buzzed him at precisely nine o'clock ... Alan thought that was a bit unusual, since he had given them permission to admit Jerome without notifying him first, but then assumed that perhaps there was someone new on the desk that night. "Yes," he said as he pressed the call button in response.

The tinny voice that crackled over the speaker sounded unfamiliar to him, as it said, "There is a Mister Axford here to see you, sir."

"Yes, I know," Alan said a bit testily, "there should be a standing order to let him up."

"I'm sorry, sir," came back the timid reply, "I did not realize ..." and his words trailed off.

In just a few short minutes, Alan heard a small rap on his door, and opened it ... and gasped slightly at the vision before him. It was Jerome, but not ... gone were the button-down shirt and khakis, navy blazer and penny loafers that Alan had become accustomed to seeing; nor was the man before him dressed in any of the other somewhat preppy, middle-class disguises one would expect from a paralegal in Boston.

Had Alan met Jerome on the street, he would have never recognized him ... and would have very likely recoiled in a burst of uncontrollable fear. Like himself, Jerome was dressed entirely in black, but that was where the similarity ended. Alan's black jeans and black silk shirt were classy, yet understated ... perfect for a night on the town in most any club in the city. Any *respectable* club, for the over thirty crowd, that is. But by the looks of things, Alan quickly came to realize that the club Jerome wanted to take him to was a Goth club.
The younger man was in black leather pants, and a long black leather duster. His hair was suddenly very black, as well, and styled in sharp spikes. "Are you going to let me in?" Jerome asked, interrupting Alan's inspection of him, and that was when Alan noticed the teeth.

"What have you done to yourself?" Alan asked, as he stepped aside to let Jerome into his suite.

"Don't you like it?" Jerome asked playfully, then continued when he could see that Alan wasn't smiling, "I told you I wanted to take you to 'Guilty Pleasures' tonight ... I just assumed you'd check it out first."

"Sorry, I haven't had the time," Alan admitted, then continued, "from what you had said, I assumed it was a gay club."

"Well, it is ... a *Goth* gay club," Jerome admitted. He then opened his duster, and reached into an inner pocked, producing a small case as he continued, "if you'd like, I can make you look more the part."

Alan could see that there was another set of fangs, as well as some makeup, in the small case. He backed away, saying, "I don't think so, Jerome."

"Why not? I'll even mark you, so that the others in the club know you're taken," he said, then added with a wink, "unless, of course, you'd find it a turn-on being hit upon by the denizens of the night."

Alan backed even further away, crossing his arms across his chest, as if he were cold.

****

"Look, I thought we went over all this last night," Alan said into the phone, then after a moment, he continued, "I'm sorry, but no," and hung up.

Just then, Denny walked into his office, saying, "Let me guess, after wining and dining and seducing the poor boy for the past three weeks, you finally defiled the virgin ... and now it's time to move on."

"Denny, were you eavesdropping on my conversation?" Alan said in surprise at seeing his friend standing in the doorway. He hoped that his obvious non-answer to Denny's statement would give Denny the hint that he didn't want to talk about it.

"Not intentionally," Denny reluctantly admitted, then continued, "I just stopped by to see how the plans were progressing for my bachelor party ... I heard you talking, and didn't want to interrupt." Stepping further into Alan's office, Denny made sure the door was closed behind him before he said, "Spill it. What happened between you and lover-boy?"

"Denny, why the sudden interest in my love life ... or lack thereof?" Alan asked, still trying to avoid this conversation.

"Because you're my friend," Denny answered, as he went around to Alan's side of the desk, and propped one hip on the surface, adding, "I can see that you're unhappy and tense." He then reached down and took Alan's hand in his own.

Alan closed his eyes at the contact, then reluctantly pulled his fingers from the older man's hand. He then forced himself to open his eyes, and look squarely at Denny, as he said, "Please Denny, I really don't want to talk about it just now. Suffice it to say that Jerome ... well, he wasn't who I thought he was ... and we are no longer a couple."

"You mean he's straight?" Denny said with some surprise.

"No, that's not what I meant at all," Alan replied, then added, in hopes of getting Denny to drop the subject, "let's just say that, vast as my own sexual proclivities are, I do have some limits to what I will do. And please, don't ask me to go into details ... I doubt you'd be able to handle it."

"I'm sorry," Denny said, standing once more and walking around to the front of Alan's desk. He then leaned down, placing both hands firmly on the desk, bringing his face very close to Alan's as he added, "If there's anything ..."

"I know, Denny," Alan said with a sad smile, while fighting the urge to lean forward and kiss the tempting lips of Denny Crane. Composing himself, he sat back and said, "Look, I've got a few things I need to do here right now ... can the discussion about your bachelor party wait until later?"

"Certainly ... I'll give Bev a call, and let her know I'll be staying late," Denny replied as he straightened, and headed for the door, adding, "it's been weeks since we've spent the evening together, I miss it."

As Denny left his office, Alan said softly to himself, "As do I."

*****

The day had been long, and very unproductive ... Alan had been completely unable to focus on the simplest task, his mind kept flashing back to the disastrous weekend he had just had. He had been so optimistic on Saturday, looking forward to spending time with Jerome, and most likely taking their relationship to the next level ... instead, when Jerome had arrived at his place dressed as a Vampire/Goth punk, all of Alan's expectations came crashing down.

The mere idea of being 'marked' as Jerome had offered to do, made Alan cringe. Not that he wasn't into a bit of heavy petting, that inevitably left a visible presence on ones body, but to deliberately bite someone, to show possession, wasn't his thing.

Sadly, it *was* Jerome's.

They never made it to the club that night. Instead, they talked; at first, Jerome tried to say that it didn't matter to him that Alan didn't want to go clubbing, but eventually, Alan realized that this Goth lifestyle *was* important to Jerome, and he would never understand why Alan couldn't be part of it. Sadly, the more Alan tried to understand what Jerome was all about, the less he wanted to be with him.

Sometime during the night, the conversation turned bitter, and Jerome actually admitted that he had put on an act, to lure Alan into his life ... he had hoped that a relationship with the likes of an Alan Shore could do wonders for his career, just as Denny Crane's reputation and friendship had helped boost Alan's own career.
That realization startled Alan, and made him question his motivation for befriending Denny. It also made him dislike Jerome intensely, and he asked him to leave. Jerome hastily apologized, but it was too late ... Alan went to the door, and held it open, waiting for his unwelcome guest to leave.

Once Jerome was out the door, Alan called the front desk, even though it was only four in the morning, and rescinded his order allowing Jerome Axford admittance.

Alan had hoped that that would be the end of things, as bitter as they were ... but Sunday proved to be just as bad. The phone calls started at six AM, and although Alan hadn't been sleeping, they annoyed him tremendously. By noon, Jerome had called ten times, and Alan had had enough. He called the front desk and asked if they could screen his calls for him, as he had work to do and didn't wish to be disturbed. If Denny Crane called, let it through ... no one else.

Alan shut the blinds, and curled up on his bed, finally fell asleep, only to be woken by the phone ringing. Sleepily, he looked at the clock, and smiled ... he had slept for nearly five hours. Knowing it could only be Denny on the other end of the line, he picked up the receiver and said hello to his friend ... the smile quickly faded as the voice on the other end replied. It was Jerome. Alan considered hanging up without letting the younger man talk, but at the last second, decided he had to put an end to this once and for all.

Jerome tried to apologize once again, but Alan cut him off, telling him in no uncertain terms that if he called him at home one more time, he would contact the police ... then he hung up.

******

He had not called the rest of the night, but when Alan got to the office in the morning, there were already three messages ... and as Alan was about to tell Melissa to throw them away, the phone rang again. She answered, and not realizing that Alan did not wish to talk to the young man, put the call through.
Alan sighed, but took the call.

As he hung up, startled to see Denny in his doorway, he realized that he desperately needed to talk to his friend. But not right now. He told Denny that he was busy, and they'd talk later ... truth be told, he needed to find a way to discuss this problem with him, without completely ... well ... freaking him out over the details.

But after a full day of 'thinking things over' Alan had no idea how to broach the subject.

******

"Denny?" Alan asked, as he stepped out onto the balcony, scotch in hand.

"Over here, Alan," he replied, as he stepped from behind a large potted plant. At Alan's quizzical look, he said, "I had a few words with Paul earlier, and I didn't want to get into it again ... so ..." and he nodded to the plant, as if that explained everything, which strangely, it did.

Denny handed Alan a freshly snipped cigar, and as he sat, lit it for him before lighting his own. They sat in companionable silence for several minutes before Alan spoke again. "Tell me," he asked, looking straight ahead, "have you ever had someone who wished to treat you as a ... possession?"

"Can't say as I have, why?" Denny replied, turning to look at Alan. There was something unnerving about the question, and the way Alan asked it.

But Alan didn't answer, instead, he asked, "Have you ever treated anyone as if they were a possession?"

"Well, if you were to ask a few of my ex-wives, they'd probably say I did," he said with a smile, then when he saw that his attempted joke had not been received as such by Alan, he added, "but I would never intentionally treat someone that way. So I ask again, why?"

Alan sighed. "Bev is lucky to have you, you know," he said, as he looked at Denny for the first time that evening.

"Dammit, man," Denny said in exacerbation, "whatever that pipsqueak did to hurt you ..."

Alan held up an hand, stopping Denny's words. "He didn't do anything," he said, then shaking his head, continued, "except perhaps get my hopes up for a small bit of happiness in my life. Sometimes, I feel so ... used, so ... empty." Alan finished his drink, and set the glass down, before he stood and walked to the railing, as he added, "I've been quite a bastard at times ... perhaps, in god's eyes, I'm unworthy ..."

"Never," Denny said over him, putting his own glass down beside Alan's as he went to stand beside him. Denny put his arm across Alan's shoulders, as he said, "You *are* worthy of happiness ... and love ... and anything else you want. It's just that ... for men like us ..."

"I know," Alan said, wishing with all his heart that he could turn this manly show of support from Denny into a full-blown embrace. Fighting the urge to turn into Denny's arms, and lay his head on Denny's shoulder, Alan said, "Denny, you don't believe that I'm friends with you simply to advance my career, do you?"

"Of course not," Denny replied, then lifted his free hand to Alan's face and forced him to turn and look him in the eye, as he asked, "was that ...?"

"Partly," Alan admitted before Denny fully asked the question. He could see the compassion in Denny's eyes, and he continued, "He was quite a play actor, it seems. I found out Saturday night that he was into a rather ... *distasteful* alternative lifestyle, at least as far as I was concerned ... that I just couldn't cope with."

"I am sorry, Alan," Denny said, and he could feel the tension slowly leaving Alan's shoulders. He lowered his arm, giving him a slight pat on the back as he did, then stepped away, saying, "By the way, I should have told you this earlier, but I don't want a bachelor party, after all. Hope you haven't gone to too much trouble setting something up already."

Glad for the change of subject, Alan turned to face Denny, as he said, "No, I've only made tentative plans, nothing that can't be canceled ... but why the sudden change of heart? I thought you were looking forward to it."

"I was," Denny admitted, then said with a smile, "but for starters, Bev doesn't want me having one," then he paused and puffed his cigar before continuing, "and I find I'd rather just spend the time with you ... you know, one last mens-night-out before ... well," he looked a bit embarrassed as he continued, "I know I said things wouldn't change between us once I was married, but we both know that isn't possible."

"I know, Denny," Alan agreed, then with a sad smile, added, "so it's you and me, for one last night on the town. I promise to make it a night we'll both remember ..."

"Here, here!" Denny said, as he refilled their glasses, then lifted his to click it against Alan's.

******

A night to remember, indeed. As Alan dressed for the wedding, he vaguely remembered the night before. He recalled a wonderful dinner, followed by some club-hopping. After several drinks, he took Denny to a club he knew, where they could dance, and nobody would think twice about it. At first, Denny was reluctant, but as more and more couples of all descriptions got onto the dance floor, he was willing to consider the idea ... but Alan hadn't been able to convince him to actually dance with *him* until the band played a mambo. Remembering the day in the office when they had danced to something similar, Denny agreed ... and Alan was in heaven, if only for a few minutes.

The rest of the night was a blur of too many drinks, and a parade of anonymous women all wanting to dance with them. Of a cab ride back to Denny's place, and of waking in his arms, both of them still fully dressed.
The sleep-over had been planned, so Alan's tux was already there, waiting for him. He had showered while Denny prepared breakfast, and the combination of hot water and hearty food made him feel better, but his mind was still a bit muzzy.

Surprisingly, Denny's was not. He was bright, and fit, and raring to go ... except he couldn't, for the love of him, tie his tie. Alan smiled, as he watched Denny struggle with it. Finally, after several failed attempts, he turned and asked, "Can you get this for me?"

"Of course, Denny," and facing him, Alan took the ends in hand, then stopped. "I can't do it like this, turn around," and Denny turned to face the mirror, Alan standing behind him, his body pressed against Denny as he reached around to tie his tie.

Looking at their reflection in the mirror, Denny said, "I wish we were getting married," and as Alan smiled at this admission, he hastily amended, "I meant both of us getting married , to other people ... not to each other."

"Yes, I know what you meant by that little Freudian slip," Alan said, as he finished what he was doing. Giving Denny's tie one final tweak, he placed his hands on Denny's shoulders, as he said, "Be happy, my friend," and giving in to an impulse, he turned his head and gave Denny a small peck on the cheek before stepping away.

Denny watched him walk away in the mirror, unable to turn and face him just now. He knew what Alan wanted most right now ... he knew that Alan would have loved to have interpreted that little slip in an entirely different way. After all, he had been quite drunk the night before, and had confessed his love of Denny. But Denny was pretty sure that Alan had forgotten.

And suddenly, Denny wanted to let Alan know that he knew. Decision made, Denny turned around, walked toward Alan, and took hold of his waist, as he said, "Alan, I know you love me ... and I ... love you, too," and then he kissed him.

Alan was startled, but as Denny's tongue found it's way into his mouth, he melted into the embrace. They could have been together like this for minutes, or hours ... Alan had no sense of time whatsoever. But a small tap at the door made them both step away, and look up. Alan looked to his watch, and said, "Your driver, I presume," as it was time to leave for the church.

"Yes," Denny agreed, as he straightened his jacket, never taking his eyes off of Alan, or making any move toward the door.

"Shall we go, Denny?" Alan said, then added, when he saw the puzzled look on Denny's face, "As I said before, I will never ask you to choose between me and Bev."

Denny smiled, saying, "And that's why I love you." He took Alan's arm, and as they walked toward the door, he added, "We'll go, but I need to talk to Bev. Before I'm willing to go through with this wedding, I need to see if ... well, I told you that she had no problem with my inability to be faithful, and had given me 'carte blanch' on 'extracurricular activities'," he paused, and Alan nodded that he did indeed recall that conversation, so Denny continued, "well, before I'll go through with this, I have to make sure that she has no problem with those 'extracurricular activities' revolving around you."

"And if she does?" Alan asked.

"Then the wedding's off."

*****

The wedding was off.

Bev, although intellectually and emotionally had no problem with Alan being in Denny's life, or his bed, had other plans for Denny's future which she had never mentioned to him before today. He was shocked to discover that she had every intention of forcing him to retire from Crane, Poole & Schmidt, and move with her to Hawaii.

The idea of quitting his law practice, and moving to an island ... not to mention leaving Alan behind ... made him feel cold all over. He shivered, as he tried to imagine what his life would be like. She tried to persuade him that, once they went there on their honeymoon, he'd fall in love with the place, and would be eager to retire. He seriously doubted that, and told Bev that he couldn't do it ... not now, and probably not anytime soon. The wedding was off, and that was the end of it.

That night, as Denny and Alan sat on the balcony of Denny's apartment, he invited Alan to come and live with him ... to which Alan heartily agreed. They say that the grass is always greener in your neighbors yard ... but sometimes, it isn't ... it only looks that way from a distance.