My dear boy, George said.  Where have you been? Frank looked at the old queen with his bloodshot eyes and dry caked lips. Second thought, don’t answer that. I thought I was raising you better than this, George walked over and brushed the blonde strand from over Frank’s eyes. He kissed the young man on the cheek. When will I ever learn?

Autumn in the city. Everyone gets along. The crime rate in the burroughs goes down significantly when the leaves change, the nights grow cooler, and sunlight creeps through clouds. Suddenly, the man who wanted to kill you in summer’s sticky heat is now wanting to be your best friend. It is a time of forgiveness. 

I just want to sleep, Frank said. To dream. Ah, to dream, the two laughed.  Please. Forgive me. Old habits are hard to break.

Yes, George told him. You are an old habit. Your kind is an old habit. I do love the young men. But, they never stay. They rob me blind and leave in the middle of the night. Like cat burglars. And yes, they all wear masks. That is, at least I can’t see through them. Always tricked. I fall in love too easily. I fall in love, too fast, he sang in a whisper.

George placed his age spotted hand on Frank’s shoulder. Please don’t leave me, he said. Please stay.

A breeze blew in from the open windows. Leaves danced down the street. George played a record; Harlem Butterfly sung by Bobby Short. The two curled up on the king-size bed as George sang along softly, while his young prince slept and dreamed.