Bernard feels like an outsider in the gay community. Thirty-five, chubby, and hairy, he doesn’t fit the image of the stereotypical gay man. Failed relationships in his past solidify the idea he is destined to be alone.
Rory is struggling with his identity. At thirty-five, he is still single. When he reunites with his childhood friend, his religious convictions and the desire to be with a man clash as he must choose between what the Church taught him is right and what his heart desires.
The two men are forced to face their fears and make a choice. Live alone and accept their fate or take a leap and challenge what they believe.
Excerpt
Larger Than Love – Jole Cannon © 2024
All Rights Reserved
Bernard
Friday, April 10, 1998
Bernard sat at the bar with a glass of soda. Smoke blurred his vision as it wafted from machines. The scents of overpriced colognes, fruity drinks, and a hint of hair spray assaulted his nose. Thin twinks with platinum hair and gym bunnies in tank tops flooded the dance floor. The repetitive techno music pounded in his head as the dancers moved under the strobe lights. He couldn’t tell when one song ended and another began.
Liquid Pearl was the nearest gay bar to home. It was a place Bernard believed he would fit in. His mistake. Close by these fitness gods sat a bear of a man. Him. Bernard was a few inches shy of six feet and carried a thick two hundred and seventy-five pounds. His round belly pushed against the bar as he attempted to find a comfortable position on the small bar stool. His once-muscular arms flexed as he lifted his glass, a shadow of his youth on the farm. Beefy calves strained against his jeans, the byproduct of years of milking cows. Short-cropped black hair matched his groomed beard. His plaid flannel shirt and blue jeans contrasted with the skinny jeans, muscle shirts, and salon-styled hair of the men surrounding him. The average age was twenty-five, and he was in his mid-thirties. Over the hill in the gay community. Odd man out was an understatement.
Bernard received a few looks and even had men approach him. However, every conversation revealed their true intentions. He never received more than a second glance or a chat because he didn’t sleep around. They viewed him as a piece of meat, something to consume, rather than a person. He didn’t accept their invitation. Bernard was not someone to conquer, and he wouldn’t cave into the temptation of anonymous sex, no matter how strong the urge to touch another man became. He refused to settle for less than what he deserved. And he deserved happiness.
Regulars came in to unwind, dance, and have fun. Some men, like him, didn’t fit the mold of Liquid Pearl but they didn’t stick out the way he did. Friends surrounded them. Bernard didn’t have friends here, and those who approached him didn’t want his friendship.
While Bernard drank his soda, someone slid onto the stool next to him.
“Bartender, a Sex on the Beach,” the man demanded.
What a rude way to order a drink. Doesn’t he have any manners?
“Hey there, sexy.” The newcomer’s tone changed. He sounded less aggressive but still manipulative. Bernard shifted in his seat.
“I’m Chance,” he said.
He shoved his hand in front of Bernard’s face.
“Bernard.” He gripped Chance’s hand harder than he should have and refused to make eye contact.
Bernard recognized the name and voice. Platinum-blond hair, bright-blue eyes, and tanning booth skin. A hottie men fawned over, but not his type. Bernard returned to his drink.
“You look kind of lonely sitting here all by your lonesome,” Chance said. “I see you here sometimes, but you don’t talk to anyone.”
Bernard glared back at Chance and caught him pouting. Clearly, he was used to a certain amount of attention and Bernard wasn’t showing him enough.
“Why don’t we go back to my place and get to know each other?” He caressed Bernard’s shoulder.
“Thank you for the offer, but I’m here to drink and relax.”
Bernard eyed Chance. He pinned him at twenty-one or twenty-two. There was no reason someone this young, a boy compared to him, would be interested in him except as a conquest. Chance’s smile did not falter. His bleached teeth gleamed beneath the neon lights. Does he think I’m so desperate I’ll go home with the first person who shows an interest in me? I have standards, and this guy does not meet them.
“Come on, I’m sure I can thrill you tonight.” He lowered his hand below Bernard’s belly. “I’m sure you could use a little attention. A guy like you probably doesn’t get much. I can change that.” His lips were close to Bernard’s ear as his hand traced a path to Bernard’s crotch. The stench of his cologne overwhelmed Bernard’s senses. Chance’s hand moved to find Bernard’s cock but appeared lost between his thick thighs.
Bernard grabbed Chance’s hand and moved it off him. Did he think that was a compliment? That I should take what I can get? Not a chance, Chance. Heat warmed his cheeks.
“I said no, thank you.”
“Oh, honey, I don’t get told no.” Chance placed his hand on Bernard’s chest. The bartender placed Chance’s drink on the bar and moved to the next patron.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” He removed his hand again. “Oh look, your drink is here. Now you can go.”
But Chance continued his pursuit. “Sweetie, I know you want me, and I want you. There’s no need to play hard to get. So, why don’t we get out of here? What do you say?”
He slipped his hand into Bernard’s shirt and stroked his chest. A flicker of disgust passed across his flawless face as he rubbed Bernard’s chest hair. He composed himself, but not before Bernard caught him. Does this guy have no shame? It’s clear he isn’t into me. What’s he after?
Bernard grabbed Chance’s hand, rougher this time, and took it out of his shirt. He glared. “Touch me again, and I will break your hand, ‘sweetie.’” He tossed his hand away.
“You fat bastard!” Chance yelled loud enough to drown out the music. Patrons closest to them turned. Chance stepped back and gestured at his body with a theatrical up-and-down sweep of his hands. “You have a hot guy right in front of you, willing to take your disgusting ass home to actually fuck, which I doubt you’ve had in a long time, and you turn it down? You’re not only fat, but you’re also fucking stupid! No one around here is going to touch your ugly, fat ass.” He made a show of including the entire club. “You should get it when you can. You’re old as shit and going to die alone!”
Silence followed the outburst. The music still thumped its rhythmic sounds while the dancers continued, oblivious to the exchange. Those nearby waited with bated breath for Bernard’s reaction.
Bernard silently stood. His mass eclipsed Chance’s frame. He closed his eyes and took two deep breaths then released them.
He spoke slowly and softly. “Listen to me, you egotistical, carbon-copy asshole. I may not have your looks, but I do have standards, dignity, and self-respect. You think I’m so desperate that I’ll go home with the first person who talks to me? I am going to guess that you talked to me on a bet. I’ve seen your type. You’re not interested in me. You don’t want to have sex with someone like me.” Bernard pointed out the musclemen who surrounded them. “Those are the guys I’ve seen you leave with. Either way, I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, so leave me alone.”
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Meet the Author
Jole Cannon is a high school math and math programming teacher. When he’s not shaping the mathematical minds of tomorrow, he’s playing video games with his partner, watching television, doing math for fun, and working on his master’s in history.
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