On dreams and dreaming

The man lies on his bed, peaceful in his sleep. He is slight for his age and the day-old beard on his chin clusters pitifully on the point, never venturing further no matter how often he shaves it. Beneath the blanket carelessly draped around his torso and his legs he is naked save for a pair of green boxers.

His eyes open abruptly as if waking from a dream. "My name is Drew," he says to himself. Andrew. The name lingers on his tongue. Andrew. His eyes take in the room he is in. He knows where he is. A thin mattress beneath him, and underneath, the wooden bed backed up against the wall. A curtain barely covers the window. Its thin fabric ripples into the room, carried by a warm breeze. The afternoon light slanting in highlights dust motes spinning in the air. It is warm and beads of perspiration lie on his chest.

He turns his head to the man lying beside him. Miguel. A voice sounds through the void. Miguel sleeping turned on his side like he always does - Drew does not know how he knows this, but he does - back turned toward him. Sweat carves lazy trails on his back.

"I'm sorry Miguel, the AC is broken."

Suddenly Miguel is awake, his bright eyes looking at the ceiling and the beams criss crossing it, hands beneath his head. He is wearing the cap he took from Karl last night.

"No big deal Drew. The heat reminds me of summer. I can almost imagine that I am a child again in grandma's house, pretending to sleep when she made me nap in the afternoon."

He turns to face Drew. "Do you want me to teach you a game?" he asks with a half-smile and walks his fingers across the smaller man's chest.

Drew sighs as he looks at Miguel's face, trying to memorize its handsome planes. He knows where he is.

"You shouldn't have kept the cap like I told you to. It suits Karl better."

Miguel looks at him questioningly, eyes narrowed and brows knit together. "I thought this was what you want?"

Miguel hadn't wanted to enter the club last night. He was not gay and he'd never been to a gay bar.

"Don't worry, we'll make sure no one takes advantage of you. And if they do, you tell Karl and he'll punch them in the face." They all laughed at the suggestion.

Half an hour later, Miguel was dancing with the rest of them. He snatched the cap from Karl and put it on. Later when he said his goodbyes he said, "I should return the cap to Karl. It doesn't suit me."

"You should keep it," Drew said laughingly.

That was last night. Only a faint smile touches his lips now. He knows where he is. The strange stone ring he wears on a leather necklace around his neck feels light. The ring was flecked in brown and red, but the strangest thing about it was that it had only one edge. One's finger could run around it inside and out uninterrupted.

With an effort, Drew stepped out of Tel'aran'rhiod and into lighter dreaming.

His eyes open abruptly as if waking from a dream. "My name is Drew," he says to himself. Andrew. The name lingers on his tongue. Andrew. His eyes take in the room he is in. A thin mattress beneath him, and underneath, the wooden bed backed up against the wall. A curtain barely covers the window. Its thin fabric ripples into the room, carried by a warm breeze. The afternoon light slanting in highlights dust motes spinning in the air. It is warm and beads of perspiration lie on his chest.

He turns to face the man lying beside him. The other has darker skin than he, a five o' clock shadow framing his handsome face. Almost with wonder, Drew runs a hand through the other man's short-cropped hair. July. That is his name.

"Como dormiste amorcito?" July was awake now. He takes Drew's hand in both of his, studying the lines he already knows so well.

"Tuve un sueño contigo, Julio." Drew smiles as he embraces the other man.