Bishop: A True Lover's Story

“What took you so long to come see me?” Royce’s voice was throaty and laced with sadness. “You’ve been out for months.”

“I couldn’t find you,” was his only reply. Bishop didn’t exactly do Google searches. He felt Royce’s tender lips against his Adam’s apple. He closed his eyes, forgetting where he was and waiting for the world to tip over.

“Kiss me, Bishop,” Royce begged, his lips already parted in invitation.

Damn that mouth. He knew he couldn’t deny it and he wouldn’t lie to himself. His body wanted… but so did his mind. Their lips met tentatively at first. Just a brush and nip as he soon became familiar with what was once his and his alone. Royce may not have been the most selfless boyfriend in the world, but he’d been loyal until the end. Bishop remembered that and tried to pull on the good memories they’d once shared—ones that didn’t involve his gang life. Royce had been his relief from all that. He pushed his tongue in more, tasting coffee and boysenberry syrup before he dug deeper, going for that natural taste he’d dreamed about so many dark nights.

“I want this,” Royce whispered.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Bishop clutched Royce’s hand from inching past his abdomen. He took a deep breath, needing to rein in his lust. He’d made promises to himself that he planned to keep. “What is it you want, Royce?”

“Is that a trick question?” Royce licked his lips. “I want you. Tonight.”

No, it wasn’t a trick question, but the answer was confusing nonetheless. He didn’t know if Royce wanted him for now or wanted them to have something long term. Something good. Not what they’d had before. That Bishop was gone. But maybe they could build a life without the constant negativity from others around them. Without Bishop’s responsibility to a crew, to a family that never really loved him. “Let me see you tonight.”

“Okay,” Royce hesitated.

“I’ll be off about eight.”

“Where are you working?” Royce asked.

“I’m back staying at Mike’s now, working for his landscaping company.” Bishop stood straighter. “It’s nice. Pay is good.”

“I remember when you used to sketch yards all the time. You used to say that’s how our home would look in the front.” Royce cocked a brow. “You still drawing?”

Every day. “Sometimes,” he mumbled. He wished he didn’t feel so uptight whenever Royce asked about his life or what he was doing. All he kept hearing over and over were his last words.

He’s illiterate!

“Well, my break was only fifteen minutes and I’m sure I’m a few seconds past that. Here.” Royce pulled a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “Here’s my number and address. I live in Pembroke Crossing apartments. It costs a small fortune to live in the beach but it’s a lot safer and cleaner.”

“You always wanted to live in Virginia Beach,” Bishop said.

“I know.”

The air was thick and tense around them. The life they could’ve had flashing before them and vanishing into dust. They’d made all kinds of future plans for when Bishop got out of the gang life. He’d been a decent landscaper back then and had earned a fair wage despite his lack of a high school diploma. But that time was gone, and he couldn’t get it back. He could only control what was within his grasp right now. He cupped the back Royce’s neck while he felt a paper shoved into his side pocket.

“How about midnight?” Royce whispered. “I’ll be ready.”

Bishop shielded his disappointment. He didn’t want a booty call. “I think we’ll have time to grab some dinner and talk. Maybe catch up a bit.” He didn’t want to think that Royce was no longer interested in conversing with him.

When he’d confided in Royce that he couldn’t read very well, actually, not much at all, he hadn’t laughed or insulted him. That hadn’t come until a couple of months later when they’d ended up in court. Until then, Royce had been understanding for the most part, only casually leaving Adult Learning Center and GED prep course pamphlets on their nightstand.

“Um. I’ll be meeting some friends from school at a restaurant in Town Center tonight… but… I guess you can meet me there and we can eat together if you want.” Royce didn’t look so sure but Bishop still agreed.

“I can do that. Meet you where?” For a moment he thought of changing his mind, but the more he stared at Royce’s hot body, the more he was getting on board. Besides, he hadn’t been to Town Center yet and he’d been meaning to. He should’ve known Royce hung out there now, he’d always wanted to be better, to have more than he’d had growing up in low-income housing.

“It’s called Gordon Biersch. It’s at the corner of Central Park Avenue and Virginia Beach Boulevard.”

Without thought, Bishop inched closer and hooked Royce’s belt loop, pulling him forward. “You gonna be around a lot of people?”