|
|
|
|
Title: Are You Listening? I knew he was a goner the first time I slid my hand from the back of his neck to just above the waistband of his jeans without the intruding eye of a camera focused on us. In that moment, I could actually see his long, lean body stretched out naked on my sheets We were on our way out the door one afternoon; our scenes were done and we were free men until 9 am the next morning. He turned to say goodbye to me and that’s when I did it. I laid my hand up under his hair as if I thought I had every right to touch him so intimately, met his eyes in a clear and steady gaze, and said my goodbye with a slow caress down his back that made him shudder. You know you have a man when he shudders at your touch. We’re so fucking easy to read that way- if the stiff dick doesn’t get the point across, the uncontrollable vibration of desire should be your next clue. It was probably one of the only times during our acquaintance that I did play it totally cool, at least for a while longer. I smiled at him with a little more than friendship in my eyes, turned casually, and walked away from him. I let myself into my car, started the engine and pulled out of the studio lot before I allowed myself to begin squirming in response to the raging hard on pushing against my jeans. I’d like to think he went home with one that day, too, and judging by what came after, I’m almost sure that’s just what happened. The following Friday night after work, Gale, Peter and I had gone to a little pub on Church Street for a beer. We weren’t stars yet and we could all walk in and out of any establishment we wanted without being mobbed by squealing housewives. I knew it was time to make my move. I’d had a few drinks, I was feeling loose and sexy, and watching Gale nurse his one and only beer of the night somehow made me want to fuck him silly. Peter had gotten up to go to the john, leaving Gale and I alone in the booth. I’d maneuvered to sit next to him, trapping him between the wall next to him and me, blocking all escape. He didn’t seem to mind. I leaned in close to him and with a breathy voice that I know from practiced experience works on men who show interest in me, I asked him if he’d ever fucked a boy before. His smile was shy and crooked, the smile he’s now famous for, showing just enough of that fucking adorably misplaced front tooth as necessary to make me achingly hard. Then he admitted quietly that he never had, despite numerous offers. I had no doubt he’d been hit on all his life. I pushed the slightest bit closer to him. “If you’re ever curious, I hope you’ll call me first,” I whispered. He chuckled softly and sipped his beer, but I could see that I’d made him a little nervous and I liked that. Nervous is fine. Terrified and running for his life, however, would have been a bad sign. I waited to see if he’d try to bolt, but he didn’t; he just kept staring at me with that inscrutable smile until Peter came back and slouched onto the bench across from us. I’d made my move, such as it was- you may think that gay boys have the market cornered on great come-on lines, but we’re just as pathetic at it as straight boys. We’re typical men and what we really want is to sink our dicks into something tight, hot, wet and now, and whatever gets us there is golden. Now it was time to wait and see if he’d take the bait. My instinct told me he would, and soon. In fact, I could have counted the hours on both hands. My cell rang at 2:42 the next afternoon. I know the exact time because after I’d hung up, I saved it in my phone’s tiny little memory chip. “You were drunk last night,” his voice purred over the line. “Yeah,” I answered with a laugh, “but not completely toasted!” “Yeah,” he agreed and I could hear his smile. “That would have been Peter.” “Did you get him home safely?” “I did. He got a little grabby with me, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.” I could tell he was amused by Peter’s attempt. But had he been interested, too? Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure of my seductive powers. “Is that right,” I asked in the most noncommittal voice I could find. “Yeah, but he’s a good guy. He stopped when I asked him to.” My heart started beating again. So he hadn’t slept with Peter. This was very good news for Randy fans- Peter is a fucking gorgeous man and no doubt, a far more experienced lover than our little hero. He could easily have stolen the heart of our mutual interest before I ever had a shot at it. “So,” Gale said into the quiet that had fallen, “What’re you doing?” “As little as I can get away with!” I quipped, “I dunno about you, but these long hours are kicking my ass, I’m exhausted all the time these days!” “Yeah,” he agreed softly, “me too.” I listened to him breathe another moment and then he spoke again, “So I guess you’ll just be sleeping all day or something, right? ‘Cos I was thinking of going to that little Vietnamese place near the studio for dinner.” “Vietnamese sounds great! You want me to tag along?” Did that sound desperate? I couldn’t tell; my heart was thumping too loudly in my ears. “Love it,” he breathed. He sounded relieved, like I’d just gotten him out of doing something he was dreading. I knew it was probably just eating alone he wasn’t looking forward to, no one likes to do that in a restaurant, but my hormones were working overtime to convince me that he was relieved because he didn’t know how to ask me out, and I’d just saved him the trouble. “So, about 6-ish?” he asked. “Meet you there,” I confirmed, enjoying the sudden surge of blood through my veins. That gave me three hours to figure out what I was going to wear. Gale: I’ll admit that my hands were shaking a little when I snapped my cell phone shut. I glanced around my tiny apartment living room, my eyes falling on the window that looked out over the street. I walked to it and gazed down at the life and activity of the city avenue below me. I wasn’t scared. I was nervous, yes, but I was excited, too. Ever since that day he’d touched me so deliberately out in the parking lot I’d been plagued by images of him and me together, sexy things that made me want to turn him into lunch, dinner, breakfast and then lunch again. I’d always known it would happen one day, that a guy would come along who’d turn me to jelly. I’d been waiting for it, hoping I’d find him before I was too old to really enjoy it. Who knew I’d be 30 before he’d come into my life and that he’d be so damned young? I wasn’t lying when I told Randy last night that I’d been hit on a lot by other guys. It’s been happening to me since high school. But like a silly virgin bride waiting for her wedding night, I knew that it was something that could be handled with grace and be a watershed moment in my life, or that it could be handled badly and fuck me up bad enough that I'd never want to try again. The guy I finally chose would have to be special and he was special. He was extraordinary. Now, before you get romantic notions in your head, I’m not talking about love. We didn’t know each other well enough yet for that to even be on my mind, and I was pretty sure that what he had on his mind had more to do with animal magnetism than finding a “life partner”, or whatever people want to call it these days. There’s chemistry and then there’s love and when you go confusing one for the other, you’re buying into a world of hurt. We wanted to fuck and there was nothing else on the agenda. But even still, there’s no way I was going to give that up for the first time to someone who couldn’t make me wild with a single glance. Can you blame me? I dressed carefully for him. I wanted to look hot, fuckable, even, without being too obvious. It occurred to me while I was combing out my wet hair that getting ready for a date with a man was exactly the same as getting ready for a date with a woman. Long hot shower to loosen up. Light splash of cologne. Fingers through the hair. Close shave. Top three buttons of your shirt open. Condoms in the wallet. Enough cash to cover both of you in case your date will let you be a gentleman and pay for dinner. And above all, no pie-in-the-sky expectations. We leave those at the curb, thanks ever so. The drive to the restaurant was short for me, it was really just a few blocks away and around the corner, but I have this compulsive fear of being late- a throwback to childhood- so I showed up 15 minutes early. I figured I’d get a drink to help sooth my nerves and be calm and collected when Randy walked in. Seems I’m not the only one who’s compulsive- Randy was already there, looking like he’d just stepped out of a Calvin Klein magazine ad. He was fucking beautiful. His studied attempt to dress casually and appear nonchalant wasn’t lost on me. I took in the worn, faded jeans that ripped at the knees and the silky over-sized shirt the exact color of his eyes the way a drowning man takes in air. I had never been one to notice what other men were wearing, let alone care, and I’d certainly never dressed for one myself, but tonight was different in so many ways that I didn’t stop to analyze my observations. I just stood next to the table he’d been seated at and smiled down at him in awe. “Wow,” he said, looking up at me, and I knew in that instant that I’d had the same effect on him as he’d had on me. I was suddenly glad I hadn’t treated my preparations for this evening as just another meal with a co-worker. I pulled out a chair and sat, my eyes never leaving his. I could have leapt across the two feet that separated us and devoured him on the spot. I had never wanted anyone in this way before and it was driving me a little crazy. We managed to get through most of our dinner without any mention of last night’s private little chat, instead spending most of our time talking and laughing about work, friends, music and family while quietly stealing rapacious glances at each other. Finally, just to get everything out on the table, I sipped from my water glass, made sure he was looking me in the eye and said, “So, you weren’t too drunk last night, huh?” He chuckled and shook his head no. “Then your offer was serious?” I arched my eyebrow, knowing he’d understand me. I couldn’t tell for sure because the restaurant was chaotic and noisy, but I would have sworn I heard him growl deep in his chest. Whether it was that sound, real or imagined, or the sudden rush of carnality across his face, something about him at that moment made my head spin and my dick get hard. “Get me the fuck out of here, please,” he gritted between his teeth, launching me into motion. I paid our check, dropped a tip on the table and was propelling him out the door with my hand in the small of his back within moments. I ignored his car altogether, steering him to my truck instead. I couldn’t help eyeing him wantonly as he climbed in. I pulled myself together long enough to slide behind the wheel and get us moving through light evening traffic. My place was closer so there was no question where we’d end up. But really, I was beyond caring. He could have bent me over the back of a chair right there in Viet Cottage, as long as I had his hands on my body and his mouth ravening mine like now. Randy: My tongue was in his mouth before his key was in the door. He fumbled with the lock, muttering into my mouth something about needing to see the doorknob but I had him now and I wasn’t fucking letting up. The door banged open against our combined weight and we staggered into his apartment, our hands frantically finding buttons and zippers. He had the presence of mind to kick the door shut before using his greater bulk to guide me into the bedroom. His hands were hot and dry on my flesh and I think I might have been whimpering a little when he finally shoved me onto the bed. I scooted backwards up the bed, never taking my hands off him and I was only marginally aware that he had somehow managed to divest me of every stitch of my clothing. He was scrambling out of his pants as he joined me and we collapsed together in a heap, mouths and hands everywhere at once. He smelled and tasted so incredible and I felt like I was getting stoned just on the way his hips kept grinding into mine. He was obviously unaware that he was panting my name repeatedly, and when his hands tangled in my hair I tumbled helplessly over the edge. Like a teenager on a first date, I came with a surprised gasp, my body convulsing against him. He didn’t give me time to feel embarrassed. He moaned into my mouth, his tongue swirling fervently around mine, and reached between us to take my cock in his hand. I laughed shakily, astonished at my complete lack of control. His fingers skated along the underside and then gripped the head of my cock and squeezed gently. I was already getting hard again when he pushed his slick fingers into my mouth. I sucked the taste of my come off each one, my eyes locked on his. He seemed spellbound by the sight of his fingers sliding in and out of my mouth as I bathed them one by one. “Randy, my god-“ His pupils dilated and I could tell by the way his breath was catching in his throat that he wouldn’t last much longer, either, if I didn’t do something to slow things down. I pushed gently on his shoulders until he rolled to his back and then began a slow, methodical exploration of every centimeter of his flesh with my hands and mouth. I was back in control again and I knew I could keep him dangling on the edge this way all night. He might never let me into his bed again and I was determined that we were going to make this count. I don’t know how many times we came that night, how many sighs we breathed or kisses we lost ourselves in, and looking back now it seems that most of the time he was clinging tightly to my hand or I was to his. Somewhere in the middle of the night, though, it stopped being just an amazing fuck. When it was over, I felt older, more grown up, as if his maturity had rubbed off on me in the dark when I wasn’t looking. Slipping into an almost comatose sleep, I wondered vaguely what of me had rubbed off on him. I woke sometime early the next afternoon, the sunlight beating down on the bed, the air still and warm. I watched particles of dust drift aimlessly through the beams of light, my brain still moderately fuzzy in a comfortable, drowsy kind of way. His right arm was trapped under my back and his other arm was slung heavily across my chest. I knew he’d pay for falling asleep like that with a terrible numbness but I didn’t want to wake him up and make him move- I wasn’t sure what shape today’s conversation would take and I wasn’t ready to find out, yet, either. This snapshot of us was mine and I was smart enough to want to savor it. I turned my head to watch his sleeping face. For a second, I wished I was Justin and could take pencil to paper, capture him in this moment. Morning doesn’t hurt Gale- it makes him luminescent. The only thing that could have made him more captivating would have been if his eyes were open. The hazel- brown- green- now gold of his irises was mesmerizing to me and I could have stared into them for hours. Yeah, ok, forever. But gay boys don’t do forever after one night of great sex. Do they? It wouldn’t matter anyway, because he wasn’t a gay boy. He could kiss like one and goddamn but he could fuck like one, too. But he wouldn’t want more than we’d already shared and I’d known that going in. I’ll take full responsibility for my own Pretty Woman dreams and leave the happy endings to straight people. Still, the dream persists, doesn’t it? We’re guys, we like to have sex, fuck, get fucked, have our dicks sucked, suck dicks. I know all that. But is that everything? And what about him? Was his only goal to get laid? Yeah, I decided, at first it was. And things were no different for me. When I would stroke my cock during my morning shower or in my bed at night thinking about him, I wasn’t picturing us in a vine-covered cottage baking muffins and telling stories by the fire. Fuck no, those delirious fantasies were darker. They were power. Heat. Wet tongues exploring clenching holes and fingers pushing roughly into tight spaces. But then there was this, the afternoon sun on us and the lazy comfort of being here with him and then- oh no, no, no, then the fear that he’d want me to leave. Yeah, the fear that it would be over. That’s where I was being led. I felt a shift inside of me and it gave me butterflies. It seemed fundamental and unavoidable and it told me that other things might mean something to me, now. Things I could lose very soon when I was asked to go. I was terrified all of a sudden. I couldn’t reconcile who I’d been at dinner last night and who I felt like I was becoming, laying here next to him today. It was too abrupt, too fucking confusing. This isn’t how things work. The world doesn’t work this way! People don’t change because of one fuck! It’s just not possible! So why did I feel so different? When did the kid who’d had a ridiculous, earth-shattering orgasm just from some guy saying his name and touching his hair become the man who thought he could one day maybe- maybe love that guy? The room began to spin. I closed my eyes and begged the universe to please, please, pretty please make sense again. I gulped air, panic rising in me. I was about to be crushed, I knew it. I could feel it coming, like a truck that you see racing towards you but know you can’t avoid. He would wake up. He’d wake up and remember that all it meant was a great fuck. He’d be polite, apologetic, even, and I would whither inside because all at once, being here was the dream and then- “Mornin,’” it was soft, mumbled… and warm. So warm. My eyes sprang open and he was looking at me. Into me. His mouth was smiling and his eyes were smiling and he didn’t want me to leave, I knew he didn’t want me to leave and I couldn’t have told you at that moment exactly how I knew it except that his eyes, his golden, brown, green, hazel eyes were saying it. The universe snapped back into place as I slid closer to him. His arm, the one that would be all pins and needles in a few seconds, drew me in, wrapped around my shoulders and he turned his body towards me, tangling his legs in mine. His hands rubbed sleepy patterns on my back, my chest, my shoulders and cheeks. And he wouldn’t stop smiling. “Mornin,’” I answered, astonished. He looked like forever to me. The End |
![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}