It was only a 15-minute walk, and I had to keep an eye on Zeke, who was trying to grill my protégé. Still, I managed to coax some information out of Rob. He'd been teaching communications - history and theory - in Colorado and had put together a History Channel documentary on early television news coverage. It had landed him the New York job. He'd never lived in a big city, he admitted, and he was having trouble adjusting to the openness of Zeke and other gays he saw. "You don't have to hide in Boulder," he said. "There's a community, of course. But it's not like here, not so obvious, not so out front. I guess I'll get used to it, but it's going to take time."

"Don't rush it," I said. "The truth is that most of us, even in New York, lead the usual lives of quiet desperation."

"Not you, though." He gave me an appraising look. "With your looks? And Zeke has told me you've got the quickest mind he knows."

"As you said, Zeke embroiders on the truth." I don't know what I would have added, but we'd gotten to the

Third Circle

, and it was no place for exchanging confidences. The bar area was jammed. A Saturday night crowd of men on the prowl, lots of them beginning to wonder - even before eleven o'clock - if they were going to get lucky or go home alone, again. The vibes were bad. I didn't want to be there and, judging by the pinched, white look on his face, Rob didn't either.

Zeke, though, was in his element. He managed to get beers for Rob and me, a Stoli on the rocks for himself and, wearing an expression of amazed disgust, a Diet Pepsi for Thommy. He searched the crowd for Barry and, not finding him, put a proprietary arm over Thommy's shoulder just as a hunter-gatherer in a studded leather vest was about to move in on the boy. "I bet you're a terrific dancer," he yelled into Thommy's ear.

"I've had lessons," my innocent admitted. Lamb to the slaughter. The next thing I knew Zeke was propelling the two of them into the maelstrom of frenzied bodies in the next room. Rob and I backed ourselves against a wall and tried to talk. Impossible. We gave up after a couple of rounds of cupping our ears and shrugging our shoulders in hopeless incomprehension.

With conversation impossible, I let my eyes wander around the room. It was the usual New York gay-bar mix, almost no one over 40, almost everyone dressed to impress, whether in Armani or muscle shirts. Heads glistened with enough styling gel to hold up a Seven-Eleven. Gold rings hung from many ears and a few noses. Most of the men were actually pretty ordinary looking, some even homely, scrawny, overweight, geeky. But here and there an Adonis stood and preened, letting himself be adored by the lesser mortals. Harry had been like that. He was as beautiful in his way as Thommy, and I had worshipped his looks right up to the moment when the Dallas heiress bought him out of my bed. I shouldn't be such a sucker for physical beauty, but I am, and the more I looked at Rob Andelman, broken nose and all, the better-looking he got. "Do you want another beer?" I yelled in his ear, flourishing my empty bottle in front of him.

"No, thanks," he bellowed back. "Could we go outside?" He gestured toward the door. I nodded enthusiastically, and we elbowed our way to the sidewalk.

"Whew!" I shouted.

"You don't have to yell now," Rob grinned his relief. "But whew! Is exactly right. I guess I'm getting old, but I can't take the noise or the crowd any more. Tell the truth, I never liked being with a whole bunch of other gay guys, with everyone on the make, everyone trying to one up everyone else. I guess I'm not the alpha male type. I like quiet things."

"Such as?"

"Chamber music. Hiking. Cooking for a few friends. Rereading my favorite books. I know that sounds pretty pathetic, but it's true. I like being fairly self-sufficient."

I was instantly suspicious. Too good to be true. "Has Zeke been talking about me to you?" I asked edgily.

"No. Well, yes, a little, but Zeke talks mostly about himself. You know that. Why do you ask?"

"Because Zeke once put a personal ad in the paper saying that he had a friend who was looking for someone who liked his pleasures quiet. I was the friend, and I was furious. Fortunately, only a couple of weirdos answered the ad. One of them was into handkerchief gags. What's weird is that I'm a chamber music freak. I cook very well in small amounts, and I've read David Copperfield six times. I don't hike, though."

"Why not?"

"I'm a city mouse. For outdoor thrills, I jaywalk. And I don't think I have the stamina for long walks uphill with wolves nipping at my heels."

"They're really very shy animals," Rob put on a lopsided grin. "And I bet you'd do fine on the trail. You look pretty fit."

"That's Thommy's doing. He decided today that I need more exercise. It's just an afterglow."

"Well, it looks really good on you, Simon." He paused, bashfully. "Is it all right if I call you Simon?"

"Please. Do you prefer Rob or what?"

"Rob. Short for Robert. But I never felt like a Robert, somehow. Simon, excuse me if I'm prying, but are you and Thommy, well, are the two of you involved?"

"An honest answer? I'm involved. He's not. He actually is straight, and I must be entering my second adolescence. I have this ridiculous crush on him, and I let him walk all over me. Rob, this is just between us. Okay? Please, don't tell Zeke."

"Don't tell Zeke what?" A familiar voice spoke over my left shoulder, and a familiar finger goosed me. Hard.

I knew it was Barry. He had come to be almost as complete an extrovert as Zeke, no longer the outwardly reserved, inwardly seething architectural student I had met so many years before when we both reached for the same mango in a Korean grocer's display. Each of us had felt the same, nerve-jangling sexual spark and acted on it almost immediately. (My apartment was just a block away.) Afterwards, a little frightened by the intensity of our coupling, we somehow agreed never to do it again. It seemed too dangerous to go that high, like trapeze artists without a net. Instead, we became close, good friends, at least until Harry took over my life and I brought Zeke and Barry together. Now I had to pretend that I wasn't as glad to see Barry as I always was.

"Don't tell Zeke," I whirled on Barry, "that I'm having his lover sent to RikersIsland for unprovoked assault and lewd conduct on a public thoroughfare. It would just encourage him to take that hunky actor off the dance floor and home to bed."

Barry turned a rewarding shade of pale, but only for a few seconds. Then he hugged me tight. "You got me, Simon. You always can. God, it's great to see you. Hi, Rob. Was I right or what?"

"I think so," he said. He blushed and looked away.

"I know so." Barry sounded triumphant. "The minute I met you, I thought of Simon. How did you two get together so fast and what have you done with the Wall Street wonder?"

"He's inside," I gestured behind me, "dancing with the genuine, all-American twink I took to the movies where we ran into Zeke and Rob. The kid is sort of my pupil and, uh, roommate."

Barry gave me a strange look. "Twinks are not your type, Simon. What's going on? God, a boy can't leave town for a well-deserved vacation without the world going to pieces. Rob is your type, Simon. Zeke and I have already decided everything."

"You picked the caterer?"

"We've advertised for bids." He hugged me again. "Oh, Simon, I've missed you so. We had such a sensational time. It was beautiful beyond belief, and I've learned to dive, and I've decided that my next building is going to be just like a coral reef."

"I'm not sure that underwater dwellings are the wave of the future, Barry," I said. "Although growing gills again might be a good thing for the human race. Of course, it would mean no more shower sex."

He giggled. "Well, I admit, I've got a few details to work out, but, Simon, let me tell you, getting fucked in the middle of a school of tropical fish … Well, it makes you want to have a very, very big aquarium."

"You and Tiberius."

Barry didn't get it.

"The Roman Emperor," Rob explained. "He was a dirty old man who used a grotto on Capri for his orgies. Lots of little boys, supposedly."

"I didn't claim the idea was original," Barry said defensively. "But for the right client…," he trailed off. "I'm going to go rescue Zeke," he declared. "Then we can go somewhere quiet for coffee. Okay? You two stay put."

He disappeared into the Circle. Rob looked at his watch, then at me. "Will you make my excuses for me?" he asked. "I'm really sorry, but I'm being picked up before dawn to go fishing in the Sound, and I've got to get some sleep."

"Dress warmly," I said. "Don't worry, I'll calm the Bobbsey Twins down."

"Simon?"

"Yeah."

"Simon, what if they're right? About you and me, that is. I'd really like to see you again. Is that okay to say?"

"Only if you mean it. I'd like to see you, too. Things are a little, well, uh, weird right now, uh, because of Thommy, but still, we could have a meal sometime and, I don't know, talk about the Roman Empire."

Rob laughed. "Let's. Talk about weird. Tiberius and then Caligula. How can I get in touch with you?"

I scribbled out my numbers. He had a business card. We swapped. We shook hands. I held his for an extra second. "They often are," I said.

"Are what?"

"Right. I think it will be fun finding out if this is one of those times."

"I think so, too. I'll call." He walked away.

It was definitely one of those times that I wished I still smoked. A cigarette can make you look decisive or, at least, preoccupied. Standing alone in the eager, purposeful human traffic outside a Village bar, I had the feeling that I looked like I was cruising. Instead, I was trying to sort and rank the very surprising feelings that came as I watched Rob disappear and as I waited for Thommy to come out and claim me. I had promised him sex, and I knew he'd keep me to my word. He'd be all pumped from dancing, sweaty and irresistible, and I wanted to feel him deep inside me. But I wanted Rob, too. In a very different way. The question was: could I have them both?

When Zeke and Barry appeared, but without Thommy, it looked like I would get neither. "Your heartthrob," Zeke chuckled naughtily, "is the toast of the Circle. He's been taken over by some other acting students, and I can imagine the role they're offering him. At any rate, he said to tell you he'd see you at home later. So let's go to the senior citizens' center and get a nice, soothing cup of herbal tea."

We got a cab and went uptown to their apartment, where they distracted me with pictures of Bora Bora and the yacht they chartered and the hunky crew who, in fact, were generally clothed but definitely edible. And the minute I yawned and checked my watch, they switched the conversation to Rob. "He's too good for you," Zeke declared, "way too smart and nice and considerate. You'd just take advantage of him because you're such a brute, Simon."

"Gee, thanks," I said. "Why did you want him to meet me in the first place?"

"Well, he might be a good influence on you," Barry chimed in. "He needs someone to take care of him, and you need to take care of someone. Simon, isn't it time for you to rejoin the human race?"

"Can I afford the dues? That's a pretty mean remark, Barry. I don't think I'm such a monster. I'm just choosy about the people I hang out with."

"Come on, Simon. You're not just choosy. You're almost a hermit. We're the people you hang out with, us and maybe half a dozen others - tops. You won't get close to anybody because you think you'll get dumped again. That's no way to live, never taking any chances."

"You don't know how I live, Barry. You don't know as much about me as you think. Just because Thommy is young…"

"And straight," Zeke interrupted. "You said so yourself."

"He's straight?" Barry gasped.

"Yeah," I said. "Don't you have any straight friends?"

"Not with looks like his. Not sharing my bathroom. My God, Simon, don't tell me you're just being nice to that gorgeous kid and not getting it on with him."

"I'm not telling you anything. It's none of your business. But I will tell you that I liked Rob and I hope I'll see him again. Why did you say he needs someone to take care of him?"

"We think he should tell you that himself," Zeke answered. "If you don't scare him off."

"Don't scare him off, Simon," Barry chorused. "He's real. He's special. Make an effort."

"I will," I smiled. "Thanks, guys. I know you mean well. But don't splurge on the caterers yet. While you two were neglecting me, I seem to have complicated my life a little. In a nice way. Sometime, maybe, I'll tell you all about it. Right now, though, it's past my bedtime."