By Pfantazm

	We squeezed into Alan's compact. Frank sat behind me. It was a short ride. When we got to Frank's complex, I had my key ready to let us in to make a point, and keep him off-balance. I was proud of Alan when he picked up the cue and got the apartment door before Frank could. We moved into the living room. I sat in the recliner, refusing to sit on that couch. Frank offered something to drink. We declined. Our host stood facing the two of us, seated. "I suppose I ought to get on with it. John, I'm declaring a topic." I nodded. So we were going to do this like one of our discussions, were we? "Alan, what that means is that I'm going to be establishing what it is we'll be talking about, and it's only polite not to interrupt. You understand?" "Yeah. Go on." Frank took a deep breath. "Let me start by saying I'm sorry you had to find out about each other this way--" "Out of order. This isn't an apology. It's an explanation. Establish your topic." This derailed Frank once more. "Okay. The topic is 'Marriage and Other Permanent Relationships'. My position is that two is something of an arbitrary number." I rolled my eyes, but didn't comment. This should be good. "In a straight couple, pardon, a straight marriage, there are two people because biologically this makes the most sense. You need exactly one woman and one man to have a baby and anything else is superfluous. None of that is at issue here. "In a homosexual relationship, there is no biological reason to stop at two people. If you can find three or more people, where any two of them love each other, then you can extend the idea to any size." Alan's mouth was hanging open. "I'd like to show relevance to our situation, if I may," Frank said. "I have no problem with that. It's why we're here. You want to hear what this has to do with us, Alan?" He nodded. "Good," Frank said. "I tried, when I was in school, to find a man with whom to share my life. Everyone I met, though, lacked somehow. I believe very strongly in the idea of a healthy mind in a healthy body. I couldn't find one single person with whom I could share these two halves of myself: the Mind and the Muscle." I could hear the capital letters fall into place. Alan looked like he recognized that phrase, while he'd dropped the Latin "mens sana in corpore sano" in his conversations with me. Frank looked at me. "The Mind and the Muscle cannot exist separately. The Mind needs the Muscle to feed it; the Muscle needs the Mind to direct it. I was looking for something similar in a life partner, and it wasn't working. "I thought to myself that if I could find one person to stimulate my Mind, and one person to stimulate the Muscle, and mush them together, I could be happy. Then I realized that I didn't need to play Frankenstein to get what I wanted. "If I could just find those two men, then perhaps the three of us could be happy together. "I started to search for boyfriends to fill the two positions. Right now, it's you two. In point of fact, you are the most likely match I've ever found. "That is my proposal. On a completely theoretical level, what do you think? If you reject the idea itself, there's no point in going on." "It sounds like you just want a way to have two boyfriends at once," Alan said. "I agree," I said. "Just how is this different from having the equivalent of a wife and a mistress?" "The two other people would also have to know about each other, be intimate with each other, and love each other, irrespective of the husband from your analogy, John. As I said, any two people from the group should be compatible enough to be a couple on their own." Alan went quiet. "John?" Frank asked. "Let me think." I mulled. "It seems like it ought to be possible with the right set of people. The larger the set you try to gather, the less likely it is to happen. It's hard enough to find two people who love each other enough. But, yeah, theoretically, it seems sound." "Alan?" "Well, there were communes and stuff like that in the Sixties, so I guess it could happen," he said. "Okay. So that's that. And that is also the explanation for my cheating on you. What I'd like to do is take you each aside and discuss things with you briefly." "Control freak," I muttered under my breath. "First, you two are the only people I've seen in months, even casually. Check your schedules if you don't believe me. I've spent every morning asleep, and every afternoon and night with one or both of you, or at work. I haven't had time for anyone else. "So far I've only had safe sex with Alan and we've been tested twice each in our time together. John and I had unprotected sex exactly once but we've been tested five times. As far as I know, we're all clean here. Does either of you have reason to believe you aren't?" "No," Alan said. "Not counting that one time with you, I haven't done anything stupid," I said acidly. "If you want to get tested again, guys, I'll understand. In fact, I think it's a good idea. I love you both too much to do anything to hurt you." "Too late," said I. "He's right, Frank. Why did you have to go behind our backs? You could have told us from the start that this is what you had in mind." "You already know the answer to that," I said. "He is a control freak. If he told me five months ago that this is what he had in mind, I'd have a say in the decision process. This way he gets veto power." Frank looked stricken. "I don't think that's very fair." "Did you ever think of telling me?" I countered. He didn't answer. "It may not be fair, but it's true. You manipulated both of us to suit your plans." Frank sat down on the couch on the other end from Alan. "Am I really like that? Am I that bad?" Alan slid over. Frank looked as though I'd really wounded him. Alan put his arm around him and his other hand on his knee. I didn't feel any jealousy. I'd half expected him to do it. "You're not really that bad. Usually you handle it well, doing nice things for people. You just have to think a little more about other people's feelings." Frank looked up at him. "John, could you maybe go into the bedroom for a sec so we can talk?" "Sure." I went in and closed the door. At the end of this, at least, it looked like they'd still be together. Alan was going to forgive him. I was sure of that. He could have said his peace and been gone otherwise. The question was, was that a bloody stupid thing to do or not? I got the impression that Alan was new to the relationship game. Once, I might have forgiven an unfaithful lover that easily, but not now. If all of this was for real, Frank would have to convince me of it. After knocking at the door, Alan brought me out. "Things are square between you two?" Alan nodded happily. "Yup." Frank looked worried. He could see the uphill climb ahead. "I suppose it's my turn," I said. Alan took my hand and smiled at me before going into the bedroom. Once the door had closed, I took my place back in the chair. "He bought it," I said. "Congratulations." "You don't want any part of it, do you? Or is it just that you don't want any part of me?" I didn't respond. A tactical mistake on my part, showing weakness like that. "What do you think of Alan? As you saw, he's pretty enthusiastic about the idea." "Good for Alan," I said, barely remembering to keep my voice down. "Fuck Alan. But it was you fucking Alan that got us where we are now, isn't it?" "John, I--" "How could you possibly love me if you have so little consideration for me? Do you even love Alan, given the way you treat him? Or are we just here to stimulate you?" Frank winced. His face flushed. "Dammit," he said softly. His fist went to his mouth the way it always did when he was upset. After a moment he pulled two Kleenex out and dabbed at his eyes. "I fucked it up. I do love you, and I do love Alan. From what I saw, you two like each other. I found exactly what I wanted and I had it, and I fucked it all up." He thumped the arm of the couch angrily. "I'm not ever going to convince you. I've seen you like this. Your mind is made up. "I'm sorry I jerked you around. I - I don't know what else I can say. I should have told you from the first. I won't keep you any longer." It could all be a ploy. He might be doing it to play into my sympathies. All I'd have to do is call his bluff and that'd be it. I'd win the argument and I wouldn't have to deal with him again. I wasn't moving. "Maybe I don't know you," he said. "Maybe you don't." Another silence. "Alan said I need to loosen up, to not domineer." "He's right. Looks like neither one of us noticed that." "So what do you think of him?" "He's cute as hell. Body to die for." "You know what I mean. I do know you well enough to say that that's not enough for you. Do you like him?" Pause. "I don't know yet," I said. "If he wasn't in here with us tonight, would you think twice about him?" "Not really." He grinned. "Well, since you don't know yet, do you like the two of us put together enough to give this a try at least?" Whoops. He had me there. I hesitated. "He's said he really likes you. I wasn't really sure you'd be his type." "That I'd be his type?" "Not to insult either of you, but what I'm looking for here is a nerd and a jock, two types of people who tend to like each other about as much as cats like dogs. Alan is no genius, but he's far from stupid, and conversely, you're no athlete, but no couch potato either. While a buff stud like Alan will probably get your juices going whether you want them to or not, he might not appreciate your intelligence." I was grinning. "So, do you think you could give us each a chance? Me, a second, and Alan, a first?" "I'll give it a try--" Frank jumped up and came around the coffee table to hug me. "But!" He stopped. "This doesn't mean I've forgiven you yet, either. You hurt me, badly. I don't know if I can trust you again." Frank looked disappointed. "Tell you what. No more surprises, and I mean of any kind, and you may be okay." He looked relieved now. "Okay." I stood up and manoeuvred past him, muttering, "I gotta be nuts." I went over to the bedroom door and knocked. Alan opened up. "Now," I said, "I'd like to talk to Alan alone." "Uh..." Frank said. "It's only fair, right? If we're equal partners in this, then I should be able to speak to Alan privately. Right?" "Yeah, sure." I pushed Alan backwards into the room and shut the door. I looked around quickly. The bed had a heavy cover on it. That'd do for muffling sound. "C'mere," I said, dragging Alan toward the bed. "Alright!" said he, and he started to undo his shirt. "Stop that." "Okay." He started pulling my shirt off. I batted his hand away. "Alan. We're just going to talk." I sat near the pillows and pulled the covers over my head. He did likewise. I emerged once again, remembering something. "His goddamn tape recorder." I checked it over. The power was off on his stereo, there was no microphone plugged into the jack and no tape in the deck. It was probably safe. I also checked under the bed for a battery- operated one. Short of actually sweeping for bugs, there was no way I could think of to look for a hidden mic or camera. I didn't want Frank to be able to eavesdrop on, or record, the conversation. I ducked back under the blankets. "Okay. What exactly did he tell you? Be as specific as you can." Alan said, "Well, he said you were real smart, and that you discuss philosophy and that stuff. You have a killer sense of humor, but I knew that already. You're not really into sports, watching them or playing them, but you've sorta been interested." He paused to think what else to tell me. "He also said that he was sorry for messing with us... and, well, I told him it was okay and we can keep trying to look for a third guy if he wants, but I think we could do it with you." That took me aback. Alan really did like me. "It sounds like the same sorts of things he told me. He's being consistent, at least." I sketched out what Frank's and my conversation had been like. Alan laughed. "What?" I asked. "You're taking all of this very seriously, like a spy or detective or something." He found my arm in the pitch lack under the covers and rubbed it. "I know you like being able to help people. You've been very kind to me all through this when most people would have been mad at me for sleeping with Frank. You've been watching out for my feelings. "You can help all of us by forgiving Frank a little. He's been totally up front with us tonight. Can you trust him?" "He had sex with me without a condom when he knew he'd had sex with other people. I don't know that I can forgive that so easily." "He did all he could to make sure it was safe anyway. He got tested every month and within the three of us, he was monogamous," Alan said. "Look at it this way. If you test positive, no one will be more surprised than Frank, 'cause that'll mean he's got it too, and he'll be just as scared as you." Shit, he was right. I knew there was no other way I could catch it except that night. That put a whole new face on things. First an insight about Frank and now about me. He had me speechless. His hand moved up to my shoulder and over to my neck and he pulled me closer. Alan kissed me. Not French, just on the lips. I reacted automatically and kissed him back. I'm still not sure why. It was wonderful and sweet. When we were done Alan said, mostly to himself, "He was right." He threw the quilt off and went to the door. "Shall we?" Right about what? When did people suddenly decide to stop telling me things? We came back into the living room. Frank was sitting cross-legged on the couch, like he often did. Seemed like a waste to me. "So?" he asked. He looked scared. The whole time we were in there he'd been in here stewing, wondering what we were talking about. He looked like I was going to give him bad news. I looked at Alan. His second insight had been right too. I couldn't stand doing this to him. If I was going to really try to make the three of us work, I couldn't play the antagonist. It was counterproductive. "Let's give this a try," I said, arms open. Frank stood up and held me tight. "Thank you." "Don't thank me, thank Alan. He did a good job of convincing me." He joined us and we invented the three-way hug. "There's just one thing left," Frank said. "I do believe that in order for the three of us to last, any pair of us should be possible as a couple. We know John and I, and Alan and I, qualify. We need to know that you two could work. If not... well, we'll just have to figure out what happens if not. This part is up to you." I looked at Alan, who was already looking at me, and thought about sleeping with him for a third time. Oh my god. Alan's residence on the UBC campus was pretty quiet when we pulled up. Then I looked at my watch. Even hard-core partyers wouldn't be up at this hour. Frank's double bed wasn't large enough to hold all three of us, which is a logistical problem mattress manufacturers should be made aware of, I think. Where's a person supposed to have a decent orgy? Alan suggested that I could stay in his dorm, since I didn't want to go home and have to explain things to Jeff yet. How do you explain something like that? We took the stairs up to his floor. The place had the same not-quite- institutional, not-quite-home feel to it that I had come to know and loathe from my own days in university. You're supposed to live in this place, but at the same time, you can't ever forget that the building is probably older than you, furniture, ditto, and a few dozen students have had it before you. It'll never be completely yours. It's sort of unsettling. The furniture was of real wood and fake leather construction of the geometric sort that looked ultramodern thirty years ago. Everything was done in too-orange red, mouldy green and royal blue. (There's no such thing as a bad shade of blue.) Alan hung up his jacket on a reading lamp bolted to the wall and took my coat. He offered me a Coke from the world's smallest refrigerator. I miss college life. We sat on the bed and got acquainted. No, no, no, we only talked. Alan was about a year from graduation, worked summers and the occasional weekend as a janitor/towel-hander-outer at a gym nearby. Alan, I learned, was a kinesiology major. What it amounts to is, he's a phys. ed. student. Now don't get me wrong. If a degree in this sort of thing can actually get you a career in your chosen field, and that is apparently the case, then that's fabulous. That's more than can be said about almost any arts degree you can name. We had these people at my university too (they're everywhere I tell you), and they're not bad people. Quite the opposite. They're always happy, bouncy people, the kind whose guts I usually hate. Born cheerleaders. Very annoying at times. Then again, what am I? A writer, and essentially an artist. (Work with me on this.) I believe that life is too bizarre to play straight, so I write humor, but you've probably noticed by now that it's quite cynical. I do get dark and brooding at times. I can be a joy to hang around with at a party. So soon things were not looking well for the two of us. We ran out of things to talk about fairly quickly. I sipped the Coke out of the rim of my can. "Read any good books lately?" "Not really." That settled it. We'd hit rock bottom. "What did you mean by, 'He was right'?" I asked, remembering something and pursuing it in desperation. "When?" "After you compared me to a spy and kissed me. You said, 'He was right.'" "Oh. Frank said you were a great kisser. He was right." Alan smiled. "He also said you weren't into sports but you could be. Any idea what he meant by that?" I pondered. "I don't really like sports, although I occasionally like the uniforms. I'm not morally opposed to exercise, though. I walk everywhere. I can't run more than three blocks without getting winded, but I once accidentally walked the whole way around Stanley Park, some ten kilometers plus and wasn't even sore the next day." "Hmmm... how are you in bed?" "I haven't had any complaints, thank you. Where in hell did that question come from?" He laughed. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. Sex is just another form of exercise. It just has a different set of benefits. Have you ever really pounded an ass? That's work, heheh. You're sweating, you've got your hips going, and if you're with the right person, you can get quite the workout for hours. Do you like sex? While you're having it, does it feel good?" "Of course it does. It's sex." "Yeah, but there's the foreplay, the touching and all the things that lead up to climax. Do you get pleasure out of all of it?" This was getting personal in a hurry. "I suppose..." "Lemme ask this: could you have a night of sex without cumming and still enjoy yourself?" Now that I had to think about. "Think about just laying there," he suggested, "still in your underwear, the other guy still in his. Without stripping, what could you do?" I have a gooooood imagination. I could climb into bed with him, get into standard face-to-face cuddle position and kiss him. Our legs would intertwine, I would reach under his T-shirt... (Did that count as underwear? Who cares....) I could reach under his shirt and stroke his chest, play with his nipple. He could grope my ass as he tasted my mouth and held me close. Then I.... "Oh, yeah," Alan said. "You could." He was laughing out loud. "Is there something wrong with that?" I asked, dropping my hands in my lap. "No, it just means that you're a very sensual person. So, the walking around Stanley Park means you have endurance, but not being able to run three blocks means you got poor cardio. You've got stamina but no power. It also looks like you've got a great connection between your Mind and your Muscle, as Frank puts it. Your sensuality says so. You could probably get a lot out of a good exercise program. I could help you there." I eyed him. "Let me guess. When you're done school you want to become a personal trainer." "Something like that, yeah," he said, grinning. "I sense an ulterior motive," I remarked, grinning back. "Aw, it's not like that. I wouldn't be saying this stuff if I didn't think it was true, or I'd be jerking you along. And it would help me to get some practice in, and we are supposed to be spending time with each other if we do decide to get serious, the three of us. What do you say?" I looked at him carefully. There was tension in his blue eyes. He was worried I was going to say no to this. Why? Even if I did, that didn't mean I was backing out of the deal. So, what, then? Alan wasn't too swift, but his emotional IQ was off the chart, like he could read feelings. He's worried I'll reject him. Does he think he needs to give me something? That might be it: he's the Little Drummer Boy. He wants me to like him, but all he thinks he has to offer is an exercise program. He's not the only one with insight. "Sure. I'll give it a try." I watched his eyes. God, that was beautiful to see the troubles disappear as he leaned forward to hug me. Man, is he heavy. I lay back and he spread out next to me, thoughtfully not crushing me. Looks like I'd got myself a bouncy cheerleader type. Now what am I supposed to do with him? It's a good thing he's so cute. What would you do with him? We got into standard face-to-face cuddle position and kissed, I reached under his shirt....

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