Quilt

“This sucks.” David said aloud to the only man in the room. He was standing by the window. “Why don’t I strangle him and hang myself?”After a night of snowfall, all the colors of the city had merged into white and black. David drew the curtains. The darker, the better. He thought, massaging his head. Alcohol did not suit him anymore. Not even a few glasses mixed with soda. David went to his bedroom to check up on his partner.

Jack was tired by his experiences of last night. The mattress was cozy. Darkness depressed him. He had also got drunk with David last night. But his hang-over was mild and he slept through it. Fortunately for himself, he was contemplating neither murder nor suicide.

David sunk on the bed beside Jack. “If you were a woman, people would call you lovely.”

“Just lovely?” Jack asked, smiling very slightly.

“Very lovely. Twenty times more than your paintings.” David hissed. Jack was an artist of women wrapped in towels or getting dressed.

“More than my wife also?” Jack asked mischievously. David leaned closer, his hand wandering beneath the bed sheet. Jack was sleepy and dressed little. David patted the knees. After a pause, he moved his fingers up the thighs. In a sudden forceful move, Jack gripped the hand and pulled himself up on his elbow, “Time?”

“8:15” David replied, struggling to free his hand. Jack sat up with the quilt wrapped on him. David was breathing fast. Jack felt sick. He did not want the same thing to happen again, at this time. He slapped his forehead, “God, Dav! Are you nuts… No!”

He seized his jeans and began to dress up.

Now that it was over, Jack wished it had not happened at all. He was feeling angry at himself. But when the snowstorm had started last night, he could not stop it. Jack’s wife had not returned from the hotel where she had gone to attend a party and David was, as usual, alone. Jack came over to David’s place... It was the madness of it that Jack was always going to carry with him to his house and his art studio. He would think of the movements of David’s hands on his body while working.

The winters had quieted the whole city. The endless quiet had begun to affect David. Seeing Jack at his door, he was surprised. He pulled Jack to the room even before he was in mood. Jack was like a rag doll in his hands.

When Jack was buttoning his sweater, David tried to help him. Jack pushed away his hands, "Stop it, Dav!"

“Just a bit more!”

“No.” Jack groaned,  going to the washroom. He shut the door fast before undoing his jeans. When finished, Jack opened the window of the washroom a little to stare across the street at the stand-alone building where his own house was. At crow-flight, the distance was nothing. Still, it was the first time in two months that Jack and David had found themselves in so private a situation. First time in eight weeks. Still, he felt the thirst. And I am already going to return to my world and wife… He thought carelessly. The thought did not cause him any regret.

David made coffee and sat across Jack. Jack dipped his bakery biscuits in the coffee and chewed them slowly. There was something feminine about it. He had barely finished his coffee when his phone began to ring. He shot a sharp look at David before answering, “Yeah, Yeah, baby… Yeah. I will come… Yeah. Oh God. Why? … fine.” He raised the phone to his lips and kissed it noisily. “Okay, baby? Bye.”

David kept staring at Jack while he was on the phone. Then, his head sank in his hands.

Jack put down his mug and patted David’s shoulder. David pressed the bridge of his nose. “Headache?” Jack asked. David did not hear the question,

“You cannot do this.”

Jack raised his brows, “This! Why? What do you want me to tell her –I have spent the night, fucking someone else…”

David slapped his forehead. He had understood their difference. Not now. Years ago.  Jack had only wanted a man’s body to feed his desires. He did feel disgusted when it was his wife beside him. But with men, he was cold like the winter. Jack was very handsome, in spite his feminine eyes and manners. He was desirable to men like themselves. And he had never been fixated on any man in his life. He is never going to understand me. David thought. He cheats me.

David was in love. From the day Jack had first touched him, he had been thirsty for more… and more… And the thirst never went. No other man could satisfy him. But he lost Jack each time, to his wife. Jack never thought of leaving her for him. He was in a perfect relation with her also.

Does he love her? David thought, staring at Jack. There was a sharp pain in his chest. Then, how can he love me?

“Why is this happening?” David asked, as Jack collected his car-keys. Jack smiled, turning to David. There was no end to where this discussion would go. Six years had not taken their relationship anywhere. In the middle of it, Jack had got married. Neither of the two men expected anything from this anymore. But if they had not won, they had not lost either.

As Jack got into the lift of David’s building, he had to release a breath he had been holding. All those times in college when he could not get attracted to girls, Jack had felt scared. He did not know about his sexuality. He had gone dating one girl after another, expecting just a little spark. It never came. But girls were ready to date him repeatedly. He had got married. He could not leave his wife now. Even if she went on living her life, she would always accuse him of deceiving her. And deceiving it would be. She trusted him, as much as David.

Jack was just a good actor.

Left alone in the house, David felt another stab in his chest. Was it actual physical pain? But what if it is? He thought carelessly. He finished his coffee and slumped on the sofa.