In The Punch Line

8∆8

Warning: Homophobic Remarks

Charles froze with one hand on Eugene's arm. "Oh God," he said, staring transfixed at the entrance to the hotel bar.

"What?" Eugene said, looking in the direction he was indicating.

"Jeffrey Reynolds."

"Who?" Eugene asked.

"The boss of this level," Charles said. "Captain of the football team."

"The football team," Eugene said, suddenly not making eye contact.

"He made my life an absolute hell for three years," Charles said vehemently. "Put strange things in my mouth."

Eugene choked.

Charles began thumping him on the back. He might have allowed his hand to linger longer than was necessary afterward.

"Some psychologists would have a field day with that," Eugene said.

"That was of limited consolation at the time," Charles said. "Wasn't my type. He destroyed my extra-credit bust of Gregor Mendel."

"Charles, you made a--" Eugene looked strangely dazed, as though he'd just spotted a bird he thought was long extinct.

"It wasn't a very large bust."

"I have no idea how you survived high school," Eugene said.

"Sheer force of will," Charles said. "I always thought to myself, Charles,  this isn't Hell. It's Purgatory. You're getting out. And someday you'll  make it back and you'll be someone and he'll be no one." He grinned a  little ruefully. "God, it sounds a bit awful when I say it out loud like  that."

"No, it doesn't." Eugene was giving him a curious look that made Charles feel as though his stomach had gone skydiving and forgotten to notify him. Or perhaps it was the alcohol. He took another pensive sip of the drink, tonguing thoughtfully at the straw, and Eugene suddenly wasn't looking at him.

He looked back at the entrance.

"I can't see who he's with," Charles said. "He's wearing a purple suit,  though, which is a good sign."

Eugene winced.

"Come on," Charles said, finishing his drink. "Let's do this."

"All right." Eugene finished his martini. He reached over and plucked an invisible strand of lint from Charles' lapel.

"How do I look?" Charles asked.

"You're completely perfect," Eugene said. Good God how did it take me so long to notice how completely obscene he sounds? For a moment their eyes met.

"Eugene, you" Charles began, thinking If he leans in like that and says anything else my clothes are going to start unbuttoning themselves without any assistance from me at all. Is nothing wrong with this man? There has to be some sort of catch. Maybe he's involved with a strange militant separatist group that Raven neglected to mention -- Charles did you start a sentence? Don't just stand there gaping at him. You have a vocabulary. Use it!

"Actuarial," Charles said.

What in blazes was that, Charles?

"That's a vocabulary word," Charles said.

Stop talking. "I have a vocabulary."

Why  are you smiling like that stop smiling oh God says something that isn't  "I think I'm falling for you" and isn't "Kiss me" and isn't "I wouldn't  object to your taking me on the floor of this bar in front of all these  people even though that would be wildly unsanitary and probably destroy  the high school reunion as an institution"--