Phoenix Club 07(16)

“I was.” Horatio sat down on the sofa and poured himself a drink. “And now I’m back.”

“Why are you…here?” Max asked anxiously.

Shrugging, Horatio sipped the drink. “Just thought I’d check in and see how things were going with your boy.”

Max frowned, momentarily puzzled, then nodded. “Caleb? Things…seem to be going well.” He finally stood up and came out from behind the desk. “And, again, thank you for your help.”

Clearing his throat, Horatio nodded absently. “My pleasure.” He murmured and touched the glass to his lips again. “It’s nice to be of some use now and then, have a purpose, even if it’s only temporary.”

“What’re talking about?” Max walked over as Horatio poured him a drink and handed it to him. “You do a lot of good, for a lot of people. You contribute to numerous important charities. And you’re generous with your money. That’s actually a rare quality.”

Horatio glanced up as Max remained standing. “I could help you more.” He said quietly, then smiled, “Buy you a nice big house, stock it with servants…”

Max chuckled. “What do I need with all that? I only have me to take care of. I don’t need servants for that.” He walked around the glass coffee table and sat in the chair. “Besides, you already helped me plenty. If it wasn’t for your backing, this club would have never gotten on its feet.”

“Yeah.” Horatio murmured and downed his drink, gaze distant. When Max had left him all those years ago, it had taken him close to five years to find him again. At that time, the Phoenix had just been an idea in Max’s head. But it was an idea that had been simmering for a long time. Horatio knew–because he had been the one to initially plant the seed. He looked at Max. “Do you remember…that this was originally my idea?”

“What?”

“Opening a gay strip club.” He smiled wryly. “We would lay out under the stars, buck naked, staring at the night sky and talking about our dreams, what we wanted to do with our lives.” He laughed softly. “You thought I was insane when I said we should open a strip club.”

His lips tight, Max smiled and nodded. “I remember.”

“Do you remember what put the idea in my mind?”

Max stared blankly at his glass, his fingertips tapping the edge. He nodded silently.

“We danced so well together.” Horatio murmured, an ache squeezing his throat. “We were…in perfect sync. And you…god, you were so fucking sexy. I’d never seen a body move like yours could.” He licked his lips slowly and glanced away. “When I saw Abel on stage…it was like watching you all over again.” He swallowed thickly and looked at Max. “I always wanted to see you dance on stage.” He smiled softly. “With me as your only audience, of course.”

Max rubbed his mouth and sniffed, then met Horatio’s gaze, eyes damp. “Is there a point to this conversation?”

“Just reminiscing.” Horatio offered quietly and leaned back against the sofa. “It’s all I have left. Can’t you give me that much? Sit with me now and then and…” His eyes stung and he looked away. “And take a moment to remember when things were good and perfect between us?”

“What’s the good in remembering, Horatio?” Max whispered, tears forming. “Where is the comfort in it? The memories only…” he shook his head, his throat working. He set his glass down a bit too hard and stood up, running his hand through his hair. “The memories only make this reality hurt more. Sometimes I wish…I could erase them all. Just forget that…” His words trailed off as he turned his back to Horatio, gripping the nape of his neck fiercely.

“Just forget that we ever loved each other?” Horatio finished for him, voice thick with emotion. He stood up. “Is that really what you wish? That you…” His vision blurred. “That you had no memories of me at all? No memories of…us?”

Max nodded slowly without looking at him. “Sometimes,” he whispered thickly, voice tight with tears. “I do.”

“Fine.” Horatio murmured, hurt squeezing his heart. “Then give them to me and you can forget I ever fucking existed. I’ll keep the memories, because I’d rather spend my time remembering the boy who used to love me–than the man too fucking afraid of his own feelings.”

“That isn’t fair!” Max turned suddenly, eyes burning with tears and pain. He jabbed a finger at Horatio. “That isn’t fucking fair, and you know it, Horatio! This isn’t about me being scared to love someone and you fucking know it!” he shook his head, tears thick in his eyes, face pinched tight. “You think I wouldn’t be with you in a fucking heartbeat if I could? You think I like going home to a cold, empty house every fucking night? And suffering through the fucking dreams that won’t go away!” His chin trembled as the tears ran free, sliding down his face. “I don’t want the memories, Horatio,” he cried, “because they hurt too fucking much.”