Peter shook hands with Carol and walked out the door.  The buzz of the street lights hummed in the air and the numerous manholes that allowed air to circulate and escape from the subways added additional wind to the red, yellow and orange leaves that made their own dancing canvas outside the gallery. If Peter had not been so unnerved by the conversation with Carol, he might have enjoyed nature's canvas.

New York was a city that never slept and the sidewalks were filled with commuters making their way home or to the corner bar for a quick drink with friends before heading home for the evening.  Glancing at the many faces of his fellow city dwellers, he briefly wished he was one of them, coming home from work, laughing at something someone said or stepping into a local tavern, apparently without a care in the world.  Instead, he was faced with one of the most difficult situations in his entire life and he couldn't decide where to go first.

He tightened his coat around his torso, buttoning it to keep out the evening chill; although he was uncertain if the chill was from the weather or from his mind as he sorted through the information Carol had provided this afternoon.  Stepping back from the crowd so he didn't block the sidewalk, he leaned on the wall of a nearby building.  Glancing at his watch, he saw it was 6:15 and he realized that Michael would be late tonight.  Michael volunteered at The Center once a week and tonight was his night; he wouldn't be home until at least 8:00.  Peter toyed with the idea of going to the youth center and asking him to leave early but quickly decided against it. He could wait two hours.

Rewrapping his black scarf around his neck, he left his perch against the building and walked until he came to the Reservoir, a bar that looked quiet enough for his mood.  Most of the wooden stools were filled, but he managed to snag one toward the end of the bar.  He ordered a Fat Tyre, preferring foreign beers over domestic any day. 

He loved to people watch; it was one of the fun activities that brought him and Michael together. They were attending a birthday party for a mutual friend but did not know each other.  Neither of them was the flashy center of attention guests and preferred to enjoy the party a little away from the main hub.  Reaching for the same spoon from the buffet line, they had each felt an immediate attraction to the other man.  They spent the remainder of the evening getting to know each other and had been a couple since shortly after the party.

He remembered introducing him to John, worried that John wouldn't like him since John rarely liked Peter's dates, but was pleased when John approved.  Despite their awkward first fumblings in John's bedroom where they explored what it meant to be a gay man and decided that friends was all they were meant to be, he still wanted John's approval for the men he dated.  They had been so naïve back then, wanting to go to Stonewall and waxing about the ‘supposed back room'.   Smiling fondly at those memories, he laughed at his adolescent self, thankful that he'd outgrown that stage in his life. 

He'd drunk about half his beer, allowing himself to waylay his thoughts back to pleasant times, but the sound of a patron calling out brought him back to reality.  Hearing "John" he quickly looked around the bar, half expecting his friend to be there, but knew instinctively he would not find him.  The condensation on his glass formed little beads of water and he watched in fascination as the droplets slid down the side onto the little coaster the bartender provided with his drink. He was surrounded by people but alone.  He finished his beer, left a tip and returned outside to the cold damp night where he took the subway back to his apartment.

He changed into lounge pants and a grey Henley that fit nicely on his well-built torso.  Going into the kitchen he scrounged in the pantry and fridge for a quick meal as he did not feel like cooking and he knew Michael would have eaten at The Center.  His stomach grumbled as he grabbed a box of leftover Chinese and placed it in a small white bowl.  After heating the food, he sat at the small breakfast bar to eat.  He looked at the mail as he finished his dinner and then placed his dishes in the dishwasher.

They lived in a small apartment and there were no spaces where someone could retreat.  Peter sat on the couch and allowed his mind to wander. What happened?  John has always been normal.  I've known him since we were 17.  He's well-liked and respected, has a great job and a great family.  They never gave him any trouble when he came out, super supportive and have even tried to fix him up a few times.  Maybe I'm wrong, but how could I be?  John told me he is in a relationship with Justin Taylor, the artist.  He tells me these stories about the guy inviting him to get to know him better and now he says he wants him to pose for a piece.  Carol says Justin is in a long term relationship.  Maybe John misunderstood Justin, that could happen.  John is lying to everyone and if I hadn't pushed him, he would be lying to me too.  That is so unlike him.  What happened? Peter was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Michael come in and his thoughts were interrupted when Michael leaned down to kiss him.

"Oh, hi.  I didn't hear you come in." Peter said as he smiled a little sheepishly at his partner.

"I see.  What has you so preoccupied?  Usually, when I come home from The Center you are lying in bed waiting to ravage me.  You're wearing your ragged lounge pants and practically sitting in the dark."  He reached over and turned on the lamp beside the end of the couch before he sat down next to Peter and kissed him again.  "You look terrible.  Bad day at work?"

Peter gave Michael a half smile and sighed. Turning toward his partner, he noticed that Michael still had his coat and scarf on.

"Take your coat and scarf off and go change.  We need to talk and it will probably take a while."

Michael frowned but did as Peter asked.  He came back to the couch with two beers and gave one to Peter.  Peter looked at it, twirling the cold bottle in his hand a few times and then popped the top.

"I'm here, so talk," Michael said when Peter didn't start sharing.

"I left work early today and went to the June Kelly gallery." Peter's thoughts were so jumbled; he was unsure where to start his story. His hand went up to the top of the couch and played with the edge of the afghan they kept there. 

"Okay," Michael said, not sure why this was important.

"I got a call from John at work and he told me his new boyfriend wanted him to come to Pittsburgh to pose for his new work.  I asked him the name of the gallery where the guy's work was being displayed and that is how I ended up at the June Kelly Gallery in the late afternoon instead of finishing a project that I've been working on all week."  He sighed as he remembered the almost finished project and the looming deadline. Shit.  I'm going to have to put in some extra time tomorrow and Friday so that we can have the weekend free.  We're supposed to go out with Alan and Sam and if I don't finish the project I'll be working instead of playing.

"Well, that's exciting.  Is the artist talented?  Does it give you a vicarious thrill to know that you know the boyfriend of the artist?"  Michael smiled, not understanding why this news would be so disconcerting to Peter.  He took a draw from his beer and put it on a coaster on the coffee table in front of the couch.  The table was the first piece of furniture they had purchased together and he remembered how they had both seen it at the store at the same time and walked toward it independently.  It was one of those defining moments when they knew they were a couple. The table was a deep cherry wood color and had sleek lines; it really was nothing special but both of them had been pulled to it just as they were pulled toward each other.  He was happy that Peter's friend had found someone as Peter frequently lamented about John's lack of a partner.

"Yes, the artist is very talented.  His work really stirs my emotions.  Every piece is a joy to view. But..."

"Where's the but?  He's real and he's talented.  What's not to like?"  Michael finished his beer and went to the kitchen to grab another one.  He'd heard Peter's stomach rumble earlier in their conversation and decided that he needed to make a small snack.  He grabbed the bag of cheese cubes they kept in the fridge and put a handful of crackers on a plate.  He added a few grapes as well.  Placing the plate on the beloved coffee table, he grabbed a small cube of cheese and popped it in his mouth.

"I ran into his agent while I was there and we chatted.  The ‘but' is that the artist has a boyfriend, more like a partner.  They've been together for a really long time.  I think John is lying."  He finally said the words out loud and made a big exhale. 

"Maybe not.  Have you considered they have an open relationship or there is trouble in their paradise?" Michael put his hands toward his head and made the motion of putting on a hat.  "I've got my therapist hat on now, so forget I'm your boyfriend."

Peter nodded his head in agreement.  There were some advantages to being in a relationship with a counselor.  Sometimes it was great to have a trained person to talk to when you were going through a rough time, but other times, they were too rational.  He wasn't sure which one was right here; his gut just told him something was really wrong.

"What exactly did John say to you about this ‘boyfriend'?"

Peter finished the last of his beer and grabbed a few cubes of cheese and some grapes. Taking his time to eat them, he thought about the question and tried to remember the exact wording of his conversations. 

"He told me he met him at the opening of his last show.  But Carol, that's his agent, said his boyfriend always comes to the openings and is very supportive."

"But that doesn't mean that he and his boyfriend weren't fighting that night or don't have an open relationship."

"True.  But why would he lie to everyone about it?  Remember, he told Darren he had a family emergency, he told me he had to go out of town for work and he didn't tell his sister anything.  If he wasn't trying to hide something then why the lies?"  Peter pulled down the afghan from the back of the couch as he suddenly felt chilled.

"Maybe he wanted to be sure of the relationship before he said anything to you?"

"True.  But I just have this horrible feeling.  Oh and I forgot one thing.  I saw a picture of the artist and this guy used to dance for Dancing Beauties.  It gets creepier.  He's the guy I hired a few years back to dance for John for his birthday."  Peter frowned and rubbed his face with his hand and then played with the edges of the afghan.

"Are you sure?  There are lots of cute guys out there?"

"No, I'm sure.  I asked Carol if he ever danced and she confirmed that he did.  I think he went to the opening and saw Justin, recognized him from his party a few years back and has become delusional, dreaming up a life for the two of them."

Michael laughed.  "You've been watching too many crime shows on TV.  What you are describing is so out in left field, it would be highly unlikely."  Michael leaned over and kissed Peter.  "I suggest we take your overactive imagination to bed and find some other ways to occupy it for the evening."

"But what if I'm right?  Isn't there something where you have to warn the guy?" The ice maker dropped some cubes into the bin.  Peter ran his hand through his hair and stretched his arms above his head.

"I do have a duty to warn if I think someone is in danger of hurting themselves or others.  Nothing you've told me leads me to believe that is the case.  If it will make you feel better, why don't we have dinner with John tomorrow and I can chat with him myself."  Michael nodded in agreement, happy that some of the discussions they had about his work had rubbed off on Peter.  Michael trusted Peter's intuition but he thought that Peter was jumping to conclusions.  Talking to John face to face would give him an opportunity to watch his body language, to see for himself what information he provided.  He often learned as much from what his patients didn't say as what they did.

"You would do that?" Peter smiled, thrilled at the invitation.  He was torn between wanting to have his fears acknowledged; there was something really wrong with John, and being told he was the one blowing the whole situation out of proportion. He let out a sigh of relief and grabbed two cheese cubes and a few crackers, eating them with gusto.

"Of course.  I like John and if he's in trouble, I want to help.  If he's got a new boyfriend, I'd like to hear all about him. If he really is delusional, then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. You know some people keep their relationships secret for any number of reasons, especially gay men. It doesn't matter if he knows it will be accepted, if he doesn't feel it will be accepted, by everyone, he might hide it."

Peter was still worried about John, but Michael did have a point. He definitely knew the lengths some people would go to avoid being confronted with something they didn't understand, and John was the type of person who would do that. He was still worried that John might possibly be delusional, but he'd wait until he had his partner's professional opinion about his best friend.

Peter reached over and gathered Michael in his arms and kissed him on the mouth.  "Thank you. I love you."

"You're welcome, and I love you too.  Now let me show you how much."  Michael stood up from the couch and grabbed Peter's hand, walking him toward their bedroom where they showed each other how much they meant to each other for several hours.