Hector and Vincent - A Tale of two Men (Gay Themed) Continued

Winter…somewhat later...

The night was cold but still, the air crisp and dry. My breath clouded around my head as I trudged through the snow, feeling warm and contented although jovially inebriated after spending the preceding two hours in my local bar. It was midnight as I approached the Gothic park gates. Passing through them, the thought came to me that I was entirely foolish to be hanging out in this place in the dead of night. I passed by the lake, the path had been cleared of snow and I found that I could no longer hear the hum of the Saturday night city traffic. Then I saw him, leaning against the wrought iron railing of the rose garden. It was dark but the sky was clear, the moon hung low in the sky so I could make out his features. He was certainly Latin; thick black hair, closely cropped, and he smiled gently at me. I felt my heart race. I assumed that he was not here for the peace and
tranquility of the park on this cold winter night. He motioned for me to approach him, I did, hesitantly, afraid for a moment. Was this really happening? He was extremely handsome, he had beautiful teeth when he smiled and said ‘hi’. He had an accent I couldn’t place. I said hi back and he leaned toward me pulling me closer to him, the faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. He finished his cigarette, inhaling deeply; his hands were perfect, elegant and masculine with perfectly trimmed fingernails. He asked me my name, I told him, his was Hector and he was from Honduras. What was he doing here? I didn’t care, not now anyway. He told me that he liked me and pressed his perfect lips to mine. Okay, damn it, I was in a park and I was cruising, but this felt like heaven, I wanted to feel this moment forever.

We spoke for a while, from time to time kissing gently, I was in ecstasy, even though it was probably only going to be so brief. His hands were warm on my face and under my tee shirt just above my jeans. He liked me! He liked me! My head screamed, knowing how transient this was, how momentary. He asked me if I would like to go somewhere warm, to drink something. I was hoping that this meeting was not going to end up an awkward grope in a park in the dead of a winter night. We decided to go to a late-night pub, just few blocks from my apartment. We trudged through the snow together, I tried to get every possible glimpse of his chiseled face. My heart was still racing and I asked myself how it was possible to meet such a beautiful specimen of humanity. The bar was dark and loud, we passed through the thick velvet curtains at the entrance, both of us briefly saying hello to acquaintances and friends. I didn’t really know many people as I didn’t frequent this bar very often. We sat in a booth at the rear of the bar, the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke almost too much to bear. He ordered two beers, and then we sat, drank and stared at each other. His black eyes, deep and romantic, staring into mine I even saw what I thought was longing. I kept asking myself, can this really be happening, then the reality set in… the cold and the walk had sobered me up somewhat. This is just a guy who I have just met, we will have a drink, he will invite me to his apartment, we will have sex and I will never see him again. The cynical side of me took over, I was screwed again. The negativity was right back here, sitting at my side. I thought, what the hell, I swigged on my beer intensely. I may as well get drunk, as usual, and just get on with it, whatever 'it' is?

‘Why do you have such a good English accent?’ he asked.

‘Well, I grew up in South Africa’ I said.

I also explained that my mother is Belgian and that I wanted to come back to Europe to find my roots and experience the European way of life.

‘So how did you get to come here to Amsterdam?’ I asked him.

He explained that his mother had married a Dutchman and she came back to the Netherlands five years ago. But he didn’t look as if he were mixed race? I kept that to myself thinking that there was more than enough time to find out about his racial background, unless he was just a fly-by-night one-night stand, and that is what he should be, I thought. After all, I had just met him in a city park notorious for cruising. Damn, is my life so sad? The bar lady was being exceptionally loud, but funny, so we watched her for a while. She began singing the Korrie Konings song ‘Mooi Was Die Tijd’ at the top of her voice on the karaoke. I didn’t mind it so much; it was one of the songs that I really liked, since it reminded me of my first few weeks in Amsterdam. The entire bar erupted into the chorus and Hector and I laughed together. He took my hand with his perfect hands, he rubbed my fingers with his, it felt so good and the butterflies were there once more. Try to keep the negativity away, I told myself, even if this is just a one-night stand; just try to think about good things. He was so handsome, almost perfect, his hair was so black, and his skin was a perfect olive. They say that opposites attract, here I was, pale in my winter skin, dark circles under my eyes from too much alcohol, too many joints and too much sleep. Depressed sleep, not knowing what would be waiting around the next corner to screw up my life even further. I had come here for a better life, but had found that it was just too hard. The grass is always greener, right? I decided then and there to merely say what I was thinking.

“Hector, I really like you, and I know that we met in the park, but I just want to tell you that I am afraid of you, afraid that I will never see you again after tonight”.

“I know that sounds very stupid since I don’t know you and all that…”

Sorry, I am just drunk and I really don’t know what I am saying”. I stammered on.

“That is okay Cariño, I like you too and we can take things easy, I am not like them.”

What the hell did that mean? Not like them? I let it go, swigging on my beer like there was no tomorrow.

“I’m sorry Hector, I am really very much of a freak and perhaps it was a mistake to meet you.” I heard myself saying, stupidly.

“Please don’t say that Vincent, you are a sweet guy and we will get to know each other, just take your time.”

Our glasses were empty, and the bar continued to swell with the music and ruckus, suddenly I was feeling better inside. It was already 1am and my head was spinning a little. Hector had already been back to the bar for two more beers and two shots of vodka before I even realized it. We toasted, we drank, we stared into each other’s eyes and yes, the feeling was back, I didn’t care now, come what may, I was going to be happy tonight. All of a sudden, the owner of the bar came up to our booth, kissed Hector on both cheeks, in proper Dutch style.

“This is Vincent”, Hector told him, “My friend.”

The owner fussed over me, kissed me and told me how happy he was to see us. He was obviously blotto but very merry; I laughed and went along with his antics. He asked Hector to dance, to dance with the bar maid, the drunk one who had been singing karaoke. Hector looked at me.

“Is that okay if I dance with her?” He said looking at me.

“Of course,” I said, laughing.

Salsa music filled the bar with its beautiful bass lines and percussion; I was surprised that the bars’ sound system was so good and it captured all the nuances of this wonderful music. The barmaid was a busty blond, sexy and vivacious. They approached each other on the small dance floor. It was electric, they both launched into the most incredible dancing I had ever seen. My head hurt from so much smiling and laughing, but in the four minutes they were on the floor, I was so completely captured by Hector, yeah, she was good, but he was my boy, for tonight anyway! Hello, what the hell are you thinking, you just met him? My head was playing with me again, I was delusional, and experiencing a fantasy about the beautiful man I had just met. The bar erupted into tremendous applause yet again. The blond buxom kissed Hector with her painted lips and sent him back to our booth with a slap on his butt. His smile was so dazzling and so wonderful when he returned to me. He leaned over and kissed me on the mouth, smearing the blond barmaid’s lipstick on me.

“You are such a great dancer.” I said, wiping the lipstick off my lips with a napkin.

“I love anything Latin, and I can dance the meringue and salsa a bit too.” I said.

“You will have to dance with me then sometime?” He said. I suddenly got shy, knowing that I would feel like an idiot if I even tried to dance with this guy. We laughed and he held my hand.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“I will be twenty-seven next month.” He replied.

“How old are you?” He asked.

“I am thirty-three.” I said sheepishly, thinking that he would be surprised.

“You look so young for your age.” He said.

“Thank you.” I said, knowing very well that it was true. I always looked younger and I attributed this to my parent’s remarkable genes and who look much younger than their age.

“How is it possible that you’re English is so good?” I asked him.

“Well, I had an American nanny in San Pedro Sula in Honduras, and my education was mostly in English.

“I think your accent is really marvelous, I mean, I really like it very much.” I added stupidly.

Not wanting to sound too eager. I really did love his accent, it wasn’t too broad, but there was the wonderful tinge of Spanish in there. Damn, where is my wallet? I was getting very drunk. Okay, I have all my stuff, cigarettes and lighter on the table, wallet in my lap, lip balm, keys and gum in my pocket, I was fine. It was funny that I felt uncomfortable if I didn’t have all my accoutrements.

By now it was two in the morning; I had to be a work at nine. My car was a very old Volkswagen and I had to drive for thirty minutes to get to the studio. Who knows if my car would even make it, especially in the snow?

“I have to get going; I have to work at nine.” I said.

“Please can I see you again? I like you so much.” Hector said almost begging, squeezing my hand.

“Of course, you can see me again; I want so much to see you again too.” Not wanting to sound too desperate, but I was. I was so anxious to see this man again, even if nothing ever happened between us, I could stare at him forever, or so it seemed.

“Are you drunk?” He asked.

“Yes, very much.” I replied, knowing that I wouldn’t sleep a wink even though I didn’t even have his number yet.
I had discovered that the bar owner’s name was Hans and he came right over again slurring and breathing alcohol breath all over us, saying that we had better come over tomorrow night. We promised that we would. He sauntered over to the blond barmaid and proceeded in burying his face in her chest and slapping her ample buttocks much to her delight as the patrons went wild and she shrieked with joy.

Hector and I grabbed our coats and we headed out through the thick velvet curtains to the outside world. It was snowing quite heavily by then. He pulled me to him, pressing our bodies and our lips together. “I like you so much.” He said. I pulled him as close as I could, our coats getting in the way.

“You are so perfect.” I said, realizing what a stupid thing that was to say.

“I walk you home.” He said.

“No, it’s okay, my bike is right there, besides, I live a few blocks away from here.”

“I live right here.” He said, pointing to a high rise just down the street, across from the park.

“Oh, okay.” I said. “I want to give you my number if that is okay.” I said, rather bluntly.

“If you didn’t give me your number, I would search the city for you.” Hector said, and I melted. He gave me his card and insisted that I give him mine although I would have offered it to him on a golden platter. He held me one last time as the snow fell around us. The traffic was gone and all we could hear was the gentle falling of the snow.

To be continued...