Peter was always the quiet one.

Put him in a room with Barbra and he'd disappear into the wall

paper.

I could use that passive shyness to my advantage since I was going

to start pushing Babs to sign over her share of the coffee shop.

I was bound to get into an argument with her over the subject,

even if she thought it was a good idea. Therefore, having her little

brother whispering good things in her ear could only speed my

plan along.

Plus, his passiveness intrigued me. Was he as passive in the

bedroom, too? He had a girlfriend, Anne, but she was pretty

butch. I had a feeling she ran things in the sex department.

You never know.

Sometimes the quiet ones can surprise you.

*****

I didn't want to take the chance that Babs might walk in on us at

my place, so I went on a field trip.

Anyway, I knew he'd feel safer and more comfortable in his apartment.

*****

I knocked on his door around 10:00 p.m.

I knew I was taking a risk. Anne might be there, but if she was,

I'd make my happy face and pretend to be glad to see them, "Sorry it's so

late, blah, blah. I was in the neighborhood, blah, blah, blah."

When he answered the door, the smell of his breath told me one thing--

that he'd been drinking. Lucky me.

"Steve," he said, slightly stunned.

"Hi, Peter! Sorry, to bother you but...I was in the neighborhood and

thought I'd stop by. Am I interrupting anything? You and Anne?"

"She's not here."

Lucky, lucky me.

He continued. "She had to work. I was just watching a video. You

want to come in and have a beer?"

*****

We finished a six-pack watching "Nirvana Unplugged" on his VCR.

Actually, HE finished the six-pack. I sipped mine and every time

I'd get us another one from the kitchen, I'd pour my beer

down the sink and pop him a new one.

I waited until his voice got a little thicker and he started to slur his

words to make my move.

"Cobain was a nice looking guy," I said. "Shame what happened to

him."

Peter looked at me, briefly, as if making sure that he'd heard me

correctly. "I love their music. It was a damn shame."

"You think he's a handsome guy Peter-- as far as guys go?"

Peter nodded slowly, deliberately, as if the neurons in his brain

were firing off very, very slowly.

I continued. "I'm not gay, but I'd have done him in a second.

Pretty face like that. Cute wife, too."

Peter never looked my way, but he was sipping away at that beer

faster than before.

"You ever done it with a guy?" I asked, resting my hand on the

front of my jeans.

"No," he said.

"Ever thought about it?"

He said "No," again, lying like hell because I could see

that he was watching me out of the corner of his eye. "You?"

"I like women," I said.

"You didn't answer my question, " he said, his own hand edging to his

waistline.

We stared each other down in the silence, volumes being

spoken in our eyes. I didn't know if he'd go for it, but I decided to try it.

I unbuttoned the top button of my jeans and slipped a hand into my

underwear.

Suddenly, without looking at me directly, he slid his hand into his shorts

and mumbled, "You started it."

Success. I pushed down the front of my briefs and he followed suit, staring

at me while Cobain sang "All Apologies."