“Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish.”
-Chuck Palahniuk
“It’s a cruel and random world, but the chaos is all so beautiful.”
-Hiromu Arakawa
Prologue
Another Friday night arrives over the city bringing on a sense of the nocturnal hunt. The seeking of another in the chaotic randomness. The passing conflicts and interactions that with the right ingredients, the timing just right, will allow for a connection. The impossibility of it a staggering calculation that proves chance still plays a role in the ways of the universe. A passing glance. A soft caress of skin. The whispered yearnings. The simple gesture of a compliment, some small praise. Each such a brief moment in time as to be meaningless, but there exist within each such possibility. One only need the innocence of hope and expectation.
Let’s introduce the Guys
Martin
A hand through curly blonde hair and Martin knew he should have gotten a haircut. But there had not been time having to work the closing shift at the record store. A loop through a drive through he then rushed home. Now he stood at the mirror wondering how others perceived him. He felt insecure with his boyish features that made him look much younger than his nineteen. He also didn’t feel like an adult, ready to settle down to a regular job and a life with someone. But if he could find someone, then he would consider at that time. One problem was society was accepting of a lot, but it struggled with two men seeking a life together. He heard the disparaging comments from some of the customers when they saw him. Faggot. Queer. Weirdo.
A spray of cologne, an exotic scent that cost him a fortune, and a little eyeliner. A darkening of the eyes to make him look mysterious. He hoped it worked, for he knew how his friends described him. Shy, Quiet. Cute. But never Queer. They didn’t know.
He opened his grandmother’s jewelry box and rummaged for his favorite necklace. A Celtic symbol of three conjoined spirals. There was a symmetry to the way the spirals rotated outward. He knew its meanings relating to triple deities but the meaning he held on to was one of progress and personal growth. He hung it around his neck feeling the cool metal against his chest. He looked in the mirror at how it lay between his nipples.
At the double doors of his closet, he looked at his clothes hanging before him. A few pair of jeans and pants, and a scattering of shirts. He pulled out his newest jeans, a black pair that had yet to fade. The dark denim absorbing nearly all light that dared to touch them. Reaching up, he took down a white shirt and slipped it on. He buttoned it to a point below the necklace, letting it remain visible. A black belt secured around his narrow waist, he reached down for his boots. A worn and scuffed pair of Doc Martens. The thick soles gave him another inch of height, despite feeling it wasn’t enough.
He grabbed up his wallet and keys and made his way through his apartment turning off lights as he went. He glanced at his watch and saw it was 10:45. He’d be early, but he liked being early. One the first to arrive. He would have a drink and watch the others as they came in, checking out the guys and how they were dressed, and which ones might be gay.
In front of his apartment sitting at the curb was his seven-year-old Datsun 280Z. It was blue and showing a bit of wear and tear, but he had gotten it for his seventeenth birthday after much begging and pleading. It had belonged to a neighbor’s son who had lost his life in a hunting accident and the mother wanted it gone. He hated what happened to Derek but his mother’s determination to get rid of the car made for a deal not even Martin’s dad could deny was a good price.
Bernard
Music filled his apartment as he lay on the bed just staring up at the ceiling. He felt an excitement about another Friday night and the possibilities it could hold in store. He was meeting Taylor at the tavern for a drink before the two of them made their way to the club at the back of the old warehouse complex. Recently renovated, it now had studios and showrooms and mixed in with them, a tavern at one of the spaces by the main road and in back, tucked in a remote space, a night club.
He imagined scenarios where he met a nice guy, someone he found attractive and sexually exciting. Taylor would be there, egging him on. There was a time when he considered Taylor, but they had become friends first then discovered what each found attractive and there was very little, if any agreement between them. So different were their views it made them laugh to talk about it.
He looked at the clock on his nightstand and saw it was nearly ten. Time for a shower and get dressed before having to head out. He rolled off the bed and shed his clothes as he crossed the room heading to the bathroom.
As he showered, he pictured the clothes he could wear trying to decide what the night would call for. A white shirt and blue jeans, or black jeans. The striped pull over and the black pants. The black shirt with the mess sides and the tapered black pants that would accentuate his legs. Then there were the shoes. Maybe his brown Oxford shoes with their plaid inserts. Or the Converse All Stars with their white laces and soles. Or the Doc Marten boots. Or the black and white Oxford shoes he found in London last summer.
Bernard stood in front of the mirror looking at his reflection. Short brown hair and dark brown eyes and a lean build. He wasn’t a broad-shouldered muscled guy, but at six foot he was tall, and he knew he was attractive for he had been hit on enough by men and women to confirm it. He adjusted the white pullover with its banded collar and long sleeves, wondering whether, or not to tuck it into his black pants. He knew without seeing them the black and white Oxfords were the perfect shoes to wear. The strong contrast of black and white, and the white would glow in the black lights the club.
He slipped his wallet into his pocket, grabbed his keys, and headed for the door, knowing without looking again he was going to be late.
Rushing across the parking lot, he ran up to the sliver Ford Thunderbird, still shocked by his mother letting him have it. She had bought it over a year ago, thinking it would be a perfect car for her. But she hated the long doors of the coupe and always having to deal with the trouble of letting one of her friends climb in back. After a year, she bought herself a Seville, giving Bernard the Thunderbird.
Robert
Robert turned another page, eyes focused on every word, as he consumed the story being revealed. He read down to the end of a paragraph and checked the time again. It was time to go, and he slipped the bookmark into the book and set it on the side table. He looked at the cover wondering about the vision an author had to possess to create such a story. A vision of a possible future both disturbing and intriguing.
Robert strolled into the bathroom to brush his teeth and put on cologne. He had showered earlier and had been lounging around in boxers. At the sink, he ran a hand through his black hair, pushing it out of his eyes wondered if he should cut it in one of the current styles. Maybe shorter, neater, with a bit of length on top. But then there was the style of long on top and sides down to the top of the ears, then cutting close to the scalp. But then again, there were still those like him that let their hair grow out. He raked his hand through it again and decided to just let it go and not worry about what is in style.
He stepped back from the mirror so he could see more of his body, thighs up to head. He looked at it knowing how some saw him. He was tall, six foot one and less than one hundred seventy-five pounds and fit from jogging and bicycling. He knew if he would go to a gym or get weights for lifting, he could fill out more, become more muscular, but he didn’t really care about having a perfect body as some envisioned. Eyes looking at his reflection he felt a contentment with his body. He didn’t focus on imperfections knowing nearly every person had some and there was no such thing as perfection.
At the sliding doors to his closet, he pulled out a black t-shirt and put it on. He slid doors to the other side and flipped through his jeans and pants, pulling out a favorite pair of jeans. Once dressed, he grabbed up his keys and wallets and headed out. Down the stair of the old apartment building hearing three of the treads squeak as they always did under foot, he came down to the first floor, out the French door at the end of the corridor on the rear side. He crossed the rear drive to his old Alfa, a seventy-two 2000 GTV which had been his most irrational act. His mother had called it insane, and his father had only laughed, asking him if he was prepared for the maintenance. And there had been maintenance issues the first couple of years, but since then it had been a faithful companion on his occasionally weekend road trips. The irony of owning it was not lost on him for his impatience with guys who were too reckless or lacked any focus about their life.
The engine fired up and settled into a low idle. Robert sat back and held the steering wheel with a light touch waiting for the engine to warm up. A glance at his watch and he saw midnight was twenty minutes away. He would arrive just before midnight at the club.
Andy
Lying on the bed, feet on the floor, Andy ran a hand down his chest, stomach and over his flaccid cock. He felt his masculine form, feeling the soft smoothness of his skin and the sparse pubic hair over his cock. He knew he looked younger than his nineteen, much younger. Carl had called him cute, with boyish good looks. He knew most guys responded to him the same way. He was five foot five and had a lean body that some considered soft, said in a way not meant to be an insult but a compliment.
He toyed with his cock until it began to respond. He felt his rising arousal, letting it build until tempted to take his cock in hand and masturbate to the point of release. Then he stopped and watched it flex up and down, then shrink back to its flaccid state. As he watched the head retract into the foreskin, he wondered if tonight would be one he would meet someone. He imagined the guy he would like to meet. Someone dark and mysterious, tall and lean with the stamina to fuck all night. It made him laugh aloud at the notion of fucking until sunrise.
He rolled off the bed and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and put on deodorant and cologne. At the lavatory he grabbed up his toothbrush, smeared a dab of toothpaste on it and began to brush his teeth. He worked the brush around as he let his eyes focus on his reflection. His normally blonde hair was now purple after a visit to Justin at the salon and his nails were neatly painted black. He liked playing with his look, putting on a costume that elicited looks, some positive, but most negative. There were the descriptions thrown his way: alternative, Goth, punk. He didn’t really feel a real part of any one group, but he loved the manipulation of his looks.
Then he got dressed, a pair of boxers, a black mesh shirt, black jeans, and military boots, then a black jacket with a military style cut. He checked himself again in the mirror at the dresser. The jacket hung open revealing the mess shirt and the smooth fair torso within. He grabbed up his keys and wallet and headed out.
In the parking lot he went to the seventy-five Cadillac De Ville. It was a two-door of massive proportions in a rose red color and white vinyl top. The interior was red and still had the faint aroma of his grandmother’s perfume. The car had been hers until she had traded two years ago for a downsized Cadillac, telling everyone she was sick of trying to park it. Andy got it from her cheap but struggled to pay for the gas while he worked part-time jobs and put himself through college.
He slipped a cassette in the aftermarket stereo and turned up the volume as Bauhaus began to play. The clock said 11:43 and he knew he would arrive at the club around midnight. He felt that slight increase in heart rate as he became excited about the prospects of another Friday night of clubbing, and the possibilities it held.
Vince
Circling the small lake in the park, Vince kept a steady pace. He jogged four to six days a week, depending on his schedule, even doing so late at night if that was what it took to get one in. Following the sidewalk, he moved around the lake and its mirror smooth surface reflecting the lights lining the walk and the crescent moon above. On the north end, he jogged out to the street and headed back to the house he rented with two other guys.
Despite being a warm night, the air felt cool against his bare torso as it evaporated the sweat constantly beading up on his skin. He wiped his brow with his right forearm and picked up his pace for the last climb up a hill. He was past feeling the pain and burning sensation in his leg muscles; he was in the groove. At the top of the hill he slowed, walking the last two blocks to cool down.
The house was lit up, porch lights on and every light in the front rooms a blaze in the late night. Vince glanced at his watch and saw he had taken his usual time and that it was nearing eleven. Enough time to eat something, grab a shower, and get dressed to meet some of the guys at the club. As he went up the steps the front door swung open, and Gabriel and Thomas came out dressed for the night.
“Vince, hurry up and get cleaned up. We’re going to meet Debbie and Keith at the pub,” said Thomas.
“I’ll catch up with you guys at the club,” Vince replied as he passed them on the steps.
“Well, hurry. You know Keith has a thing for you.”
“Thomas, please; don’t encourage him. He’s nice and a great guy, but…”
“But what?”
“He’s…well…doesn’t seem very motivated.”
“He’s still in college, so what do you expect?” asked Gabriel.
“Has he told you about his grades? I don’t know how he hasn’t gotten kicked out.”
“Yeah, they are pretty bad,” admitted Thomas.
“But not everyone can be as serious as you,” joked Gabriel.
“I don’t expect someone to be,” Vince replied. “I’ll catch up with you guys at the club. Now go on or you’ll be late,” he added, then turned and went inside.
The shower ran warm as Vince soaped up, feeling his own body, the firm muscle and smooth skin. He wasn’t proud of his body as much as just glad he kept it fit. He wasn’t interested in bulking up with some gym routine but did jog and work out to stay fit. He as average in height and considered himself average in build but knew he had a lean muscular body that many guys envied and a lot more tried to bed. It amused him the blatant way guys would come on to him. And he let them, listening to their spiel, and watching their mannerism as they flirted with him. There were free drinks as they tried to loosen him up to their advances. He chuckled at how so many showed their dejection as he excused himself most of the time.
He was looking for something other than a one-night stand. He wanted more. Last March he turned twenty-six and although he enjoyed a night out as much as the next guy, he had begun to feel a want for a relationship, a regular boyfriend that was there every morning and night, and someone to travel with on vacations. He was planning a trip to Portugal in the fall and wished he had someone to go with him.
At the sink, he brushed his teeth, then combed his hair, wondering if he should have it cut differently. Maybe one of the new styles, as he ran the comb through his dirty blonde hair, then lightly messed it up so he had a casual appearance. He checked his appearance once again and found himself staring at his blue eyes. The blue shirt, the one that made his eyes appear more vividly blue, would be the night’s attire.
In his bedroom he pulled out the blue shirt and put it on, feeling the snug fit around his torso. He buttoned it all the way up and straightened the collar. Then he took out the pants he only dared to wear to the club. Blue and green plaid with straight cuffed legs and a tight fit around the seat. He chuckled at the way people chose costumes for different scenarios, he just as guilty as all the others.
From the bottom of the closet, he brought out a pair of old leather shoes with a woven vamp section. He had found them in a consignment shop and despite some scuffing and wear, he found them stylish and comfortable. Dressed, he checked himself one last time, grabbed up his keys and wallet and headed out.
At the garage in back, something he paid more rent to have one bay within it, he raised the right door revealing his latest purchase. A black SAAB 900 Turbo with the tan leather interior. He loved the uniqueness of it and its practicality, but more than anything he loved driving it. Within a minute, he was backing down the drive as the garage door was lowering back in place.
Ian
Ian woke with a start, looking around confused by his surroundings until he realized he was in his own apartment. It was all still so new that it seemed not his own. He had finished college, graduating with honors and was now gainfully employed at his first real job. No longer would he be flipping burgers or waiting tables or helping someone pick a tie out for blue or white shirt. No more summers stashing away every penny as he put himself through college. He had scholarships but still had to cover his own living expenses. But that was the last five years and now he was an intern at a small architectural firm and living on his own. He would be twenty-four in two months and didn’t know how he felt about it.
In the past, each birthday was a milestone that represented some move forward. A driver’s license, graduating high school, old enough to vote, then drink, and finally graduating college. He looked out the window at the city’s skyline over the apartment building next door still finding it alien for this was a new city to him, a place he had yet to discover all that it offered.
Ian went to the bathroom and climbed into the shower with water hot enough to steam up the small room. He soaped up and rinsed, savoring the feel of being clean. Once out, he toweled off while looking at himself in the mirror. He had to admit he wasn’t a bad looking guy, with his soft facial feathers, slight upturned nose, and green eyes. His hair looked brown but once it dried the red would come out, especially when light hit it. Then he looked at his body and knew he had not done anything to improve it. He was still skinny, never taking the time to work out or eat enough to bulk up. All through college he saved on gas by riding his bicycle as much as possible, which kept him fit but did nothing for his overall physique. And what made him look skinnier than most was the fact he was six foot three. All through high school and college there were the comments about his height, most showing an envy to it, but to him, it was something that he didn’t think about until he was standing next to someone much shorter, then it would register.
He could have gone to one of the weight rooms on campus, or joined a sports league, but architecture had taken so much time and he was so focused on doing well, he did neither of those things.
He dressed in a white t-shirt and faded jeans, slipped on black dress shoes that had belonged to his grandfather that he found to be retro in appearance, and headed out. As he crossed the parking lot, he looked at the 79 Toyota Supra, a car he had gotten from his uncle. It was white with aftermarket wheels and a small ding in the rear fender but ran strong and wasn’t as embarrassing as the car his younger brother ended up buying from a neighbor. A Trans Am in gold with that huge decal on the hood screaming ‘look at me’.
With engine idling, he pulled the flyer out of the console to check the address once again. It was a club that sounded promising. The flyer was for a band that played there a week ago. It wasn’t the band that had captured his attention but the name of the bar with its ‘1984’ dystopian future imagery. Overhearing the guy at the record store tell someone it was a club he wouldn’t go to for ‘fags go there’, Ian knew it was the club for him.
Time to Drop the Needle
Martin
Martin walked slowly toward the door as he saw three people go in, momentarily allowing the full sound of music escape from within the club. He had parked up the street, someplace he thought safe for his car and walked the two blocks down to the club. He kept looking around wondering if one of his friends would show up. It was surprising none of them had discovered the club, especially Brian who would love the music. But he knew even if they did, Brian, and probably Jason too, would not want to come for it was common knowledge among those who did know about the club that it had a large group of gay men who came. The night would start with a diverse group of people, but as the night wore on, as the hour became late, the mix would change, becoming mostly guys. It was this change that brought Martin out for the last month, each time telling himself this was the night he would act on his desires. Time and time again he told himself It’s My Life.
A guy walked past him, then a few seconds later another rushed past. He looked at their silhouettes as they moved toward the door, then he heard one call out to the other to wait up. He saw how the first one waited, and the other ran up to him, kissed him on the mouth, take him by the hand, and head to the door together.
Why Can’t I Be You Martin wondered as he followed them inside.
The two guys checked in, one paying the five-dollar entry fee for both, then they moved around the corner disappearing into the club.
“ID and membership,” the woman behind the counter asked.
Martin held out his license and membership card, then slid a twenty across the counter. Hand stamped, he slid the three fives in change into his pocket and headed into the club.
Into the darkness, only a few lights illuminating the dance floor. It left the perimeter in darkness, and he used it as concealment as he eased along the wall heading to the bar. There were small groups of people standing or sitting around the dance floor, it too early for anyone to be dancing. He looked at each group, sizing up the guys wondering who could be gay. He felt his usual excitement about the Opportunities, that he had the whole night to find someone. It seemed to exist outside the bounds of time, that he had all the time in the world. It felt as if Tonight is Forever and was his to live.
Vince
Vince let Debbie and Keith enter first as he held the door. Looking back, he saw Gabriel and Thomas approaching, a guy between them they had picked up at the tavern. For a second, he struggled to remember the guy’s name, then it hit him: Christopher. It didn’t surprise him Gabriel and Thomas had picked up someone already. It happened all the time. Thomas with his beachboy blonde looks and Gabriel with his dark skin tone and black wavy hair. They were very attractive and outgoing, something that drew in other guys like they were drugged or in a trance.
But he had to be honest with himself, for he knew he was attractive too. It was just his nature to not be as outgoing. He didn’t openly flirt with guys the way they did nor was he always looking for a one-night stand. And he was getting more serious about what he was looking for. Yes, he the thought about it in sexual terms too. He would look at a guy and think I Need a Man, then I Want a Lover, but as he considered it further, he wanted a boyfriend. As Gabriel led Chris and Thomas into the club, he looked at them thinking he definitely did not want some Bizarre Love Triangle.
Following the others through the ritual of checking in, he then followed them to the bar, not the main one at the back of the dance floor, but the one tucked in back away from the others. He knew Gabriel and Thomas would want to keep Christopher isolated from other guys until they had him completely reeled in, and the rest of them would enjoy another drink in a place they could talk. It was still early for the club for only a few had begun to dance. He heard the music, the songs the DJ was playing were the warmups, the songs that were out of the favorites list or were new, not heard before, thus the patrons not sure how to react to them. He knew when the night would begin. Everyone would know. It would be some song at the height of popularity, one that most in the club would feel compelled to dance.
Bernard
Bernard laughed at Taylor knowing he shouldn’t do it. But Taylor had a way of creating chaos in his life, always having some Drama! It didn’t matter what the situation or how seriously it effected Taylor, no one could stop themselves from laughing at how he told his story of the latest event.
“It’s not funny,” Taylor exclaimed.
“I’m sorry, but it’s the way you tell it.”
“Smartass,” Taylor replied, playfully punching Bernard on the bicep.
“Let’s get inside. I could use a cocktail.”
As they approached the door, Bernard saw a guy come from a back parking lot. There was something about him that had captured his attention. Something he noticed when the guy had walked through the circle of light of one of the parking lot lights. He watched him move through the darkness then pass through another circle of light.
Purple. The guy’s hair is purple.
It intrigued him, this use of an unnatural color in one’s hair. He would never do it, but then again, he kept his hair cut short just for the ease of getting dressed every morning.
He watched the guy go in ahead of them wondering if he was gay. He was definitely Goth, dressed in all black. He tried to imagine it, someone gay who was also so alternative as to have society shun them for that too. But he wasn’t sure if the guy was gay or not, just an assumption on his part for there were two clubs in town that catered to the Goth and alternative crowd, and for this guy to be here meant he was looking for something different.
Standing behind the guy as he checked in with Taylor who was rambling on about something, Vince size him up, noting how he was several inches taller despite being only five foot ten. Then he noticed the black fingernails and when the guy turned away from the counter, he saw through the open jacket the mesh shirt that revealed the smooth white skin of the chest and stomach. Then he saw the boyish face of someone seeking their place in this Mad World. He didn’t understand the costume, but he understood the attitude and smiled as the guy moved past them eliciting a smile in return.
Moving around the dance floor he began to look at the attire of others, wondering about the effort each took in picking out their garments. Near the DJ’s booth, leaning against the wall was a guy dressed in the same costume as he. White shirt and black pants. There was the glint of metal from a necklace and when a rotating light pierced the darkness, the shock of blonde hair, brilliant yellow shining out.
Andy
Andy couldn’t help but return the smile of the guy behind him. The guy was dressed so simply. A white banded collar pullover and black pants. But it was the short hair that made the strongest impression, the thing that gave identity to the guy; made him stand out in the crowd. Moving away from the group the guy was among, he made his way into the room with the dance floor. He wondered how he appeared to the guy. Was he alternative or Goth or just different? Or was he a freak, as some labeled him, ridiculing anything that was really different. He saw the stares, even in this place. Is It Really So Strange to see someone like him in the club?
At the bar he ordered a soda, not yet old enough to drink, then moved to a dark corner to watch the dance floor where a few were dancing. He knew it was only a matter of time. The DJ was looking down at the expanding crowd biding his time. Andy knew that time was near, just a matter of minutes, and the DJ would slip out a vinyl disks with just the right song, the one that would bring a crowd to the dance floor. Despite the bright lights and those on the perimeter watching, the crowd gave a sense of security and protection for those who were hesitate. But Andy wasn’t hesitant. He just liked the floor crowded. To feel a bump of another or the stare from someone surprised by his appearance or maybe, just maybe, look at him as Human, somebody that they could desire. Someone who could have an attraction toward him, and he wouldn’t’ have to ask, Don’t You Want Me?
He saw the two guys that had been behind him at the check-in counter going toward the bar. There was something about the short haired guy. He sensed the guy had not been judgmental and it made him feel drawn to him. But the night was just starting, and he knew there would be more than one that would capture his eye.
It wasn’t noticeable at first, but then Andy heard it, the phrasing of the next song, one he recognized immediately. It had just gained popularity and would the be the one that brought out those waiting for just the right song. The dance floor would become packed within seconds of the song being recognized. He smiled, thinking about how everyone would Dance This Mess Around.
Ian
Ian approached the door hearing the music get a bit louder, the beat faster. A small group were going in and as they opened the door, he heard how loud it was inside. This Must Be the Place he thought as he neared the door feeling his heart beat faster with anticipation.
He stood in line looking around those in front to see how much it was to get in. He saw membership cards displayed and worried about getting in if one was required. The clubs back in college didn’t have memberships but that was in another state, and he had no idea what the laws were here that governed nightclubs.
Eventually he was at the counter holding out his driver’s license.
“Membership?” the woman asked.
“I don’t have one. I’m new…just moved here. How much is it?”
“Fill this out,” the woman replied, sliding an index size card toward him. He saw it required all the usual information. “It’ll be ten dollars for the membership and tonight you’ll need to get someone to sign you in,” the woman added.
“What?”
“You’ll need someone to sign you in.”
“I’ll do it,” came a voice from behind, and Ian turned to see a guy nearly his own height. Long black hair, black t-shirt and black jeans, he radiated a sense of mystery and temptation. The t-shirt fit snug and showed a lean muscular body, one with far more definition than his own skinny frame.
“Thanks; I appreciate it.”’
“No problem,” the guy replied, then motioned toward the pen Ian was holding.
“OH, here,” Ian replied holding out the pen.
He saw the neat handwriting, the long fingers that held the pen and the way the black hair hung around the head, then he was staring at the dark eyes as the guy looked up, holding out the pen.
“Thanks,” Ian whispered as he took back the pen. He leaned down to sign his name by the one just written. Robert Langford.
“You’re a red head,” the guy stated, and Ian looked around nodding his head.
“Yeah, but it’s a dirty red. Not very attractive to most guys.”
Ian realized what he had admitted and saw the guy, this Robert Langford, smile.
“I don’t know, it looks nice to me. I’m sure a lot of guys will like it.”
Ian moved to the side to fill out the application, and it took too long for he kept looking over at Robert until he had paid his entry fee and disappeared around the corner. Don’t Go he thought, but he knew it was early, and there would be plenty of time to find this Robert, and if not him, then someone else.
“Your membership card will be ready to pick up next weekend,” the woman behind the counter stated as she took his application, then handed him his change.
“Thanks,” Ian replied, then moved away from the counter, shocked at the sudden line that had developed behind him. He moved around the corner and down the dimly lit corridor until in the main room with its high ceiling and in the middle, the focus of the whole space, the crowded dance floor. Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want he uttered aloud as he moved along the wall looking for a place he could stand and watch.
Robert
“Gin and tonic” Robert called out to the bartender, raising his voice loud enough to be heard over the music. He tossed a twenty on the bar and waited while considering the tall lanky guy he had signed into the club. The guy was attractive and had been flustered about being new to the club, something he thought was silly and cute. Maybe he would search him out later. He picked up his drink and change and turned around to lean against the bar. A few sips of his drink as he scanned the crowd, then he pushed off and headed toward a table that had been vacated by two girls.
Watching the crowd, he imagined what kind of personality each person would have. He pictured the kind of life they were living and in turn how he might incorporate it into his own. He watched some of the guys dancing, especially those alone, willing to go out and dance for the pure joy of it. He admired their independence. He knew how some viewed the people who came to this club. The derogatory references and attempts at shaming them. You Know What You Are? coming from their lips. He didn’t understand why they cared who someone was attracted. What did it matter to their miserable lives if two guys or two girls wanted to be together? He knew some of the factors that drove their prejudices. Religion being one of the main culprits, but there was the basic prejudice in humans of anything different, then there was just plain old fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the different, and a fear, if they were honest, they might like it too. At the end of the day, he wanted to tell them So What if two guys fuck each other. It’s none of their business.
Looking across the room he saw that tall redhead leaning against the wall scanning the room. He saw the timid nature of someone in a new environment, but an environment that might give them the one thing they so desired. He saw it. The look of someone wanting what others considered taboo. He felt empathy toward the guy but as for an attraction, he wasn’t sure. He wondered if he was confusing the two.
A flash of unusual color and movement caught his eye. It was the color purple, and he turned to see a guy dancing alone. He watched how the guy seemed tucked into the crowd. He was shorter than most and moved among them like smoke, or a whisper. The others didn’t notice him until aware of the purple hair, and then there was hardly a second look. It wasn’t the first time someone was in the club with an unnatural hair color. Just across the dance floor was a girl with green hair and back at the bar was another with blue hair.
Watching the guy with purple hair dance, he smiled at the notion this guy was Kooler Than Jesus. The Beatles had shocked a lot of people saying they were more popular, but being cooler was far more interesting. As the guy turned, the jacket would fly open wider revealing the lean body within barely concealed in a mesh shirt. It was a true temptation, this teasing of flesh. More of a temptation than if the guy went shirtless. It was as if to say, Don’t You Forget About Me.
Ian
Two drinks later, Ian needed to go to the Men’s room. He circled the dance floor aware of some of the looks he was getting from women and from some men. A smile, eyes that followed him, a questioning look. Would he, it seemed to ask. He went through a doorway to the other side of the club and down the corridor to the toilet rooms.
He stood at the urinal relieving himself as the two others in the room washed their hands and left. He finished, zipped up, and went to the sink to wash his hands. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He saw himself, green eyes reflecting the light and hair slightly messed up. He combed a wet hand through it, pushing it back. He was beginning to think his anticipation for the night was foolish.
Last Night I Dreamt Somebody Loved Me.
Tonight, I’m not so sure, he thought as he dried his hands.
He pictured the guy who signed him in standing to the side of the dance floor. He had started to approach him, but as he neared the guy looked his way, then back at the dance floor, not even noticing his approach.
Ian reached out to push the door open when it swung open by someone coming in. Dirty blonde dressed in a bright blue shirt, but the thing that captured his attention the most were the eyes. Blue, vivid blue, and they seemed to be looking at him. He stood back to let him enter. As the guy passed him there was a utterance. A brief comment just loud enough to hear, meant only for him.
“You’re cute.”
Ian felt his face grow warm knowing he was blushing. He looked back as the guy went to the first urinal The guy looked back and smiled before focusing on relieving himself.
Ian hesitated, wondering if he should wait, but then he considered it a casual comment one made in nightclubs. The off-the-cuff remarks not to be taken seriously. He left the room and headed to the bar as he played the brief encounter over in his mind.
Vince
Vince came out of the Men’s room and made his way back into the main room. He looked across the dance floor to see if his friends were still huddled up on the far side. Gabriel and Thomas still had Chris between them, the three lost in conversation. He could tell by the way they looked, and the gestures, Gabriel and Thomas were working Chris, pushing him to go home with them. Vince smiled at the casual nature of his friends. The way they sought pleasure of the moment, nothing long term. He wondered if they would always be content with it, or would the day come they would find themselves looking for something different.
A quick scan of the dance floor and he found Keith and Debbie dancing together. He knew the two played off each other. He also knew Keith was conflicted in what he wanted.
Vince made his way to the bar. He wanted another drink, and he wanted to see if he could find the guy he had been seeing around the club. The one he had finally got a close look at when he entered the bathroom. He had sized him up. Tall and lanky and he pictured being in bed with him where it would seem all legs and arms. Then there was the way the harsh light in the Men’s room reflected off the reddish-brown hair. He liked the color, something so rarely seen among all the brown, black, and blonde hair. But what really captured his attention was the green eyes, and the way the cheeks flushed red when he complimented him.
The guy was new to the club, had to be, for he had never seen him before. Maybe, he had just moved to the city, or maybe he was one of those guys who lived a straight life but secretly wanted the companionship of another guy and had discovered the club. He hoped it wasn’t the latter.
As he drew near the bar, weaving through the other patrons, he saw the tall silhouette at one end of the bar. The reach out for a new drink, then turning around and moving away to let someone else in. Vince watched the guy move a few feet away and stand along the wall where there was no light, just dark shadow with its concealment.
It took a few minutes to get to the bar, but Vince finally got another drink and moved back. As he sipped the drink, he scanned the wall looking for the guy. The spot he had been standing now had two girls there.
“Damn,” Vince uttered, then began to move around the room to look for him. He didn’t know why this guy was the one he wanted to find. But then matters of the heart, the people we find attractive are anything but objective. He was about to check the outdoor patio when he spotted him. Out on the dance floor near the very center, there he was dancing alone. Vince moved to the edge of the dancing crowd and watched him. It was surprising to see someone so tall move with such fluid movements. Arms moving, legs sliding and stepping, shifting the body around in rhythm to the music. The base beats setting the tempo, the lyrics setting the tone. A rotating light began to move over him as if highlighting him. Picking him out of the crowd just for Vince to be able to see. The light moved over the guy, reflecting red when it passed over his head. Vince slugged his drink back, tossed the cup into a nearby trash, and moved to the dance floor. He made his way through the crowd as he began to move his head to the beat. He got into the rhythm of the song as he came into the guy’s space and began to dance. He moved near, so close the guy couldn’t help but notice him. He saw the slight hesitation, then the smile. He saw his chance, this opportunity. This Situation he desired.
Vince considered all the silly pickup lines Gabriel and Thomas used. You’re The One I Love. You’re Heaven. Talk Dirty To Me. It amused him the silliness of them, and in this moment, he didn’t want silly.
“Hey, I’m Vince. Tell Me Your Name.”
“Ian.”
“I’ve not seen you here before.”
“I just moved here.”
Vince smiled, then leaned in closer, lips nearly touching the ear. He felt the exhilaration of taking a chance. The point at the Edge of No Control.
“Can I dance with you?”
“Yes,” came a breathless reply.
The DJ changed the song, and its familiar beat brought a smile to their faces. There was something unusual about the song, the lyrics talking about pain and love. Yes, it was a Strangelove. But it spoke to them, those still out at one in the morning.
Bernard
Bernard watched Taylor dance with someone. He watched how they moved together. How one or the other would whisper something in an ear. There would be a laugh or that look between two people destined for a long night of sex. What came after was up to them. He felt the heat of the room, how the dance floor had been so crowded, one could hardly move and all around it, even more people. Warm bodies worked up to the point of sweating. He had danced with a couple of guys but as soon he attempted a conversation with them, his desire for them died. Maybe he was being too picky, too judgmental, but he had to be attracted to the whole of a person, not just his looks.
Another scan of the room, looking along the walls into every dark recess. On the opposite side, near the bar he saw him, the guy dressed the same as he. White shirt, black pants. A common enough attire for the club, but there was also the blonde curly hair and how it hung down over one eye. He’d noticed the guy several times over the course of the night and each time found him in the shadows, out of sight of the others.
Bernard wanted to go over and tell him to come out, to Roam the club, to Shout out, to venture out onto the dance floor. He wanted to pull him out of the darkness and say Dance, Motherfucker, Dance. But what he really wanted more than anything else, was to tell him to Relax, to Love My Way.
He glanced at his watch seeing it was nearing three in the morning. The club was still crowded but not nearly as packed as it had been a few minutes before. In the next hour, closing time at four, he knew only the hardcore would remain, those that will dance to the last song, and those still looking for someone but for far too many, afraid to make the first move.
He looked back into that dark corner and began to move toward the shy guy in the corner, thinking about what to say, and at the moment he wanted to say to him, Don’t Slip Away.
Martin
Another night at the club and he could sense it. The change in atmosphere As the End Draws Near. There had been opportunities and looks that could only mean one thing. But he felt tongue tied around those he didn’t know, always worried about how he would come across to someone. First impressions, the most fearful thing to someone shy. He had watched the others dance, flirt, then leave together. He knew he just needed to go there, to be a part of the crowd, flirt a bit, and tell himself over and over, Never Say Never.
But he didn’t feel it, that daring suffocated by his shyness.
He knew he should just leave, call it a night, and go home and get some sleep. He stared down at the floor. His left shoe was untied and nearby, a chewed straw lying on the floor. Leave, dumbass, he told himself as he stared down. Then there was another pair of shoes. Black and white dress shoes that he had never seen the like before. His first thought was where do you find such shoes. Then he wondered about the person wearing them. He looked up, along the black pants, then the white pullover until looking at the guy with short brown hair. He’d seen him on the dance floor a couple of times, dancing with other boys. He stared back, embarrassed at being tongue tied.
“Hey, I’m Bernard. Tell Me Your Name.”
“Martin.”
“Martin, why are you hiding in this dark corner?”
“I didn’t know anyone and…”
“But that is why you come here. To meet people.”
“I know.”
“A bit shy?”
Martin nodded his head.
“Come on, dance with me.”
Martin saw the extended hand. The long fingers slightly splayed out, the palm turned toward him, open, inviting him to take it. He sucked in a breath and reached out.
At first Martin was self-conscious about dancing, afraid he looked a bit foolish, a little out of rhythm. But Bernard smiled at him, then moved up close, daring him to dance with him. He found himself in rhythm with him. A turn to the right, then left, a move of the arms, all in sync with Bernard.
The dance floor was still crowded but the perimeter was emptying out. It was nearing three thirty and for many it was time to go home. Martin sat a table watching Bernard get them water for they had just come off the dance floor and both were thirsty. Bernard was so good looking he couldn’t believe his luck. And the thing that amazed him the most was how Bernard was attentive. He watched the bartender fill two cups, Bernard pick them up, and head toward him.
“Here ya go,” said Bernard sitting one cup down in front of him.
“Thanks.
“Hey, I was wondering.”
“What?”
“Well…would you like to go to this party?”
“Tomorrow night?”
“No, now.”
“Now?” Martin replied laughing at the absurdity of someone throwing a party at four in the morning.
“I know, it sounds crazy. My friend is going, and I promised to make an appearance. I could just blow them off…”
“No, let’s go,” Martin replied. He was intrigued about a party at this hour.
Andy
The floor was thinning out, allowing for more room to move around. Andy was sweaty, his hair falling down into his face, but he was in the groove. Despite his fatigue he felt like he could dance until the sun came up. There was a break in the music, one with a fast hard beat came to an abrupt end, and the next song, one with a different beat slowly came on. The music swelled in volume until everyone knew what song it was. It was an older song, obscure to everyone but the most hardcore of clubbers. Andy smiled at his recognition of it.
“What’s so funny?” someone asked to his side, and he turned to see the guy with long black hair dressed in solid black. He had seen him from time to time, felt an attraction toward him. But the guy looked smart, bookish in some way he couldn’t put his finger on, and it made him feel his difference, both perceived and physical. The guy waited for his response.
“The song…I recognize it.”
“Really? Most have probably never heard it before. Have you heard the band’s latest release? It is much harder. They’re calling it industrial.”
“No, I’ve not heard it yet.”
“You want to?”
Andy sensed it and wondered What Have I Done to Deserve This?
“Where?”
“There’s an after-party. Will you go with me?”
“Seriously?”
The guy smiled, almost laughing aloud.
“Seriously” he replied. “I’m Robert, by the way.”
“Robert,” Andy repeated.
“Your name is Robert too?”
“NO! I’m Andy.”
“Well, Andy, what do you say? Care to party on the Road to Nowhere?”
Robert
It was crazy. Just insane. He kept glancing in the rearview mirror making sure that huge fucking Cadillac was still there. He shifted through the gears from each light, navigated the small Alfa easily through the near empty streets, and through every turn and intersection, the Cadillac was behind him. He drove through downtown and to the Belmont neighborhood. It as a turn of the century neighborhood with houses reflecting many of the styles through the first half of the century and on some corners, old general stores that anchored the community, where kids hung out on Saturdays and during the week people grabbed the items they were out of like a loaf of bread or a gallon of milk, or a six-pack to end another grueling day at work.
“Crazy,” Robert uttered to himself as he pictured Andy again. The purple hair, the black nails, and the clothes of someone not wanting to fit in, or thinking in some way, they didn’t deserve to fit in. Maybe, he was reading too much into the costume and was totally wrong, but Andy was so shy, so introverted, and yet the costume was the exact opposite.
But once he looked past the superficial and at the person within, he saw a young guy like any other. Someone looking for his way in the world, and tonight, wanting to make some connection with another. Robert considered the body, the lean torso teasingly exposed through the mess top, and the boyish features. He couldn’t help it; he wondered what Andy would be like in bed. He wanted to know and before long he expected to find out.
Afterparty
Martin & Bernard
Martin held Bernard’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk. It was an older residential neighborhood located in Chantilly, a post WWII neighborhood that had fallen in decline. Most houses were being rented out. Service workers, students from nearby colleges, blue collar workers in construction or manufacturing, and others who sought inexpensive housing near downtown. Its busted up sidewalk and pot holed street spoke to the plight of the neighborhood, along with the weathered and worn look of the houses.
“It’s just a couple of houses down,” said Bernard as he led Martin around a tree that interrupted the straight line of the sidewalk.
Martin knew which house it would be before they arrived. A car pulled in front of it and six people piled out and headed up the walk. The front porch was all lit up and as they neared, he could see several people under it.
“This is it…the embassy as it is known,” said Bernard.
“Wow, it’s a big house,” Martin replied when he saw how the two-story house stood out.
“Whoever built it couldn’t afford the upkeep, so it got sold off or went through bankruptcy, we’re not sure which, and eventually it got divided down the middle of the entry into two sides, then the two sides were split into separate units, the first floor one unit and the second floor the other.”
“Even split four ways, I bet each is still larger than my apartment.”
“They are big. Come on, let’s see who’s hosting tonight’s afterparty.”
They moved up the walk to the porch and Martin realized he recognized a few of the guys from the club. They looked up, nodded in greeting, then turned back to their conversations.
“Hey guys, where is tonight’s party?” asked Bernard.
“Upstairs…at Eric’s,” the guy in the swing replied.
“Thanks,” said Bernard. “Come on, let’s go up,” he added toward Martin.
Martin followed Bernard to the right side, up the stair that was still over four feet wide despite the wall that he knew ran down the middle of it. Turning on the landing, they moved up the next run and he noticed it was just as wide. He could hear music coming from the open doors at the top landing.
Martin hung with Bernard as they moved around the apartment created out of three bedrooms and a bathroom. They sat with a group in the living room with a small kitchen to one side and a dining table sitting at the front window overlooking the rear yard. Then they were in one of bedrooms, some lying on the bed with everyone else on the floor around it. Eric, the one who rented the apartment lay in a bean bag chair and Martin wasn’t sure if he was stoned or just drunk, but he had trouble keeping his eyes diverted from him, for Eric was attractive and more problematic, kept touching himself. There was a noticeable erection which the others joked about, daring someone to take it out.
Bernard laughed along with them, but when no one was watching them, he leaned to Martin.
“Let’s go somewhere else.”
Bernard led Martin downstairs and through one of the other apartments to the rear porch. As bright as the porch was illuminated, the yard was the opposite, cast in darkness. Bernard took Martin’s hand and led him into the darkness. They moved to the garage, down along the side of it until tucked in behind a fig tree. The low branches concealed them, and Martin found himself pushed against the wall and Bernard moving up against him. He felt a knee slip between his legs and push up against his crotch. Hands held his own pressing them against the wall. Bernard moved toward him, and he closed his eyes as lips pressed against his own. Bernard kissed him with a passion he had not felt in a long time. Then the lips moved to his jaw, up to his left ear where he felt Bernard tongue its curvature. He shuddered with the manipulation and when the knee pushed upward again, he felt his cock stir.
Andy & Robert
They hung out on the porch having one more beer, then they made their way inside, Upstairs to Eric’s. They sat in the floor of the living room and kept passing the bowl of chips back and forth while listening to an argument on what the first electronic song had been. One argued it was by a couple in Greenwich Village in the late forties and their soundtrack for a Sci-Fi flick. Another argued it was Donna Summer’s I Feel Love. Another said it was a song from the late fifties but could not remember neither, the artist or the song title.
“But who today is incorporating electronica into their music the best?” asked Robert.
“New Order, no doubt,” came the first reply.
“Depeche Mode,” came another.
“What do you think?” asked Robert as he leaned forward and looked at Andy.
“I’m not sure. I like that release by Art of Noise, then there is Tangerine Dream, but I think they are right. New Order and Depeche Mode seem to be at the top of the genre.”
“What about Yaz?” Someone asked from the doorway, and everyone turned to see someone coming in.
“Hey Gabriel, you made it,” someone exclaimed.
“Just in time,” Gabriel joked back.
“I like that Art of Noise release, but I don’t think they’ll have long term success,” said Robert.
Andy felt the alcohol wearing off and he expected to feel himself crashing, but he felt too excited being with Robert. He was nothing like the guys he had been with in the past. There was a confidence to him that was reassuring. Something he wished he could possess. He found himself smiling more than usual and soon confessing things about himself. And Robert listened as if he really cared.
They were coming out of the first bedroom where another group was hanging out when Robert took his hand and led him down the corridor toward its end.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” Robert replied.
They moved past the last bedroom door where others were gathered, down to a door on the opposite wall. Robert motioned for Andy to be quiet as he eased the door open. Reaching inside the darkness, Robert flipped on a light and Andy saw it was steps leading up.
“Where does that go?” Andy asked.
“The attic,” Robert whispered in reply. “Come on and watch the fifth step; it’s loose.”
Meanwhile Across Town
Vince and Ian
Ian followed Vince. Into a residential neighborhood he had never been before. Cars lined the streets and they had to drive slowly between them. Vince braked, then turned into a drive and Ian wondered if he should follow him or park on the street, deciding on the latter. There was space for him to pull to the curb right in front of the house.
He held the steering wheel and smiled at his good fortune. He didn’t realize how lonely he had begun to feel until now. Heart racing with excitement he climbed out and headed up the walk to the front door. Two windows were illuminated, the rest dark. Before he reached the top step the front door swung open.
“Come on in,” whispered Vince.
Ian entered the small foyer and saw the house was an eclectic mix of furniture and art. There was something comforting about the clutter of objects and books. Pottery, art figurines, found objects along with books on every table and in the two bookcases that were the focal point of the room.
“Do you live here alone?” asked Ian.
“Oh, hell no, I have two roommates. Not sure if they are home or still out, so keep it down, okay?”
“Sure,” Ian replied as he followed Vince through the living room and back through the dining room until in the kitchen at the back of the house.
“You want something to drink?” asked Vince.
“No; I’m good.”
“Come on then,” Vince replied with a smile.
Ian followed him into a hall, down to the open door at the end of it. Inside the bedroom he froze unsure how fast to take things.
Vince turned to him, held him by the chin and leaned forward kissing him.
Vince sensed it, the hesitation in Ian. He didn’t know if it was a natural shyness or just the lingering affect of being new to the city and still feeling somewhat lost. He moved his hands to the narrow waist and pulled their bodies together. He pressed against it hoping Ian felt his growing arousal. He pushed against him until feeling trapped in his clothes. He wanted free of them, and he wanted Ian naked too. He wanted to feel bare flesh against bare flesh. To feel and see Ian’s response to him. He wanted to hold him in hand, manipulate his arousal until there was no turning back.
Martin & Bernard
“I want you…I want to fuck you,” Bernard uttered in Martin’s ear as he pushed against him, pinning him against the wall.
“Yes…I want…” Martin uttered, kissing Bernard in lieu of finishing what he wanted to say. It was obvious to the two of them he wanted to fuck too.
Bernard guided Martin to turn around. Martin, with hands on the wall, pushed back against him. He worked his ass on the growing cock trapped within the pants as hands moved around his waist. There was a tug on his belt, the undoing of his jeans, then the warm night air against his exposed flesh. His cock stuck out, heavy and hard, and a hand quickly took it as the other was busy undoing Bernard’s pants. Soon hard cock pressed between his ass cheeks, then slid upward and back down. He moaned at the feel of it, the hard cock rubbing between them as his own cock was slowly stroked.
“Put it in me…please…do it. Do me,” Martin uttered with a hushed urgency.
A hand on Martin’s neck pushed him to bend over. Then cock pushed between his cheeks and touched his opening. It pressed against it. His tightness tried to deny its penetration, but Martin defied his own body and pushed back. He shuddered and moaned as the cock breached his tightness. Hands on his shoulders held him in place as cock bore into his depths. A slow steady penetration that continued until Bernard was pressed tightly against his ass.
Bernard struggled to steady his pace. He tugged outward and slowly pushed back in, over and over, working his cock through the tightness. He kept up this slow steady pace waiting on Martin to loosen to his penetration. Then he felt it, the tightness lessen, and Martin starting to move with him. To push back as he pushed forward. He let go of the shoulders and saw Martin lean toward the wall bracing himself with his hands. Bernard held Martin by the narrow waist and began to fuck. To drive cock inward faster, harder, hips smacking against ass. He thrust as hard as he dared, struggling to keep quiet, knowing otherwise they could draw attention. He leaned forward and nipped at the right shoulder to smother his desire to cry out. He moved within Martin with a fury, losing himself to his lusts and desires. He wanted Martin, wanted to feel his cock buried inside him making some primitive connection.
“Fuck,” Martin uttered in a low voice, and it spurned Bernard to keep fucking.
Martin held his head down seeing the ghostly image of his white cock swinging back and forth between his thighs. He felt the rough brick against the palms of his hands and Bernard’s hands holding tightly to his waist. He loved how the fingers dug into his sides holding him in place as cock bore into his depths. His arousal grew intense as hips smacked against his ass. Then there was the nip at his shoulder, the body pressed against his back as Bernard went from a hard fuck to grinding cock into his depths.
“Fuck…I’m going to cum,” Bernard uttered into his ear.
“Do it, do it,” Martin whispered as he let Bernard hold tightly to his waist and sink all the way inside of him. He felt the shuddering body against his back and shivered at the exhale of hot breath against his neck. Bernard shuddered and jammed hips against his ass.
Then he felt empty, Bernard slipped free of his hole, but he had little time to contemplate it when Bernard spun him around and pushed him against the wall. He saw the dark silhouette descend in front of him, then the feel of his cock sinking into a mouth. The hot slick feel of it made him flex hard with his arousal. Tongue tortured his cock as lips moved along the hard shaft.
He couldn’t hold back, too aroused by their fuck, and Martin held Bernard by the head and pumped his mouth full of cum.
Andy & Robert
Among a few dusty boxes, Andy lay back on an old sofa wondering if he was the first to do so in the attic, knowing he was not. He was slumped down, ass right at the edge of the seat cushion with his body angled into the corner. Robert had stripped him naked, not even letting him keep his socks on. Looking down his flat chest and stomach, he watched Robert suck his cock. Watched as it disappeared through the lips, then reappear wet and slick, glistening in the light of the single bulb near the stair.
He clutched the edge of the seat cushions as Robert’s hands moved over his stomach and chest. He watched how Robert toyed with his nipples, then pinch down on each. He moaned and pushed upward with his hips. Robert gave them a twist and pinched down harder, and he cried out and thrust upward harder. He pushed upward until choking Robert on his cock. The hands moved to his hips and held him down as Robert renewed the intensity of his suck.
Andy watched as if in a trance as Robert sucked his cock. Then watched in dismay as Robert lifted his head and looked at him with a grin. He watched Robert rise between his legs, still feeling some intimidation at the tall body and its long fat cock sticking straight out. He wondered what it was going to feel like to take it, to let Robert fuck his ass, but he was surprised to watch Robert straddle his waist and grind ass down on his wet cock. Grip tightened on the sofa cushions, he struggled to remain still as Robert moved over it.
Robert was amused by Andy’s look as he moved over him. He knew the expectation, one someone like Andy had all the time. They were the smaller guy, and thus more likely to be put on bottom. It was a silly stereotype in his opinion. He ground down on Andy’s hard cock, felt it slide wetly along his ass as he moved back and forth. He stroked his own cock, felt the thickness of it slide through his fingers. He knew his own body. His nipples were hard nubs sticking out and every touch sent shivers down his spine. And thrusting his cock through his hand made him want that cock he was sitting on be inside him. He rose and held it up as he lowered himself to it. The wet head touched his tight opening, and he felt his growing need for it. He lowered himself on it, let it stretch him open, and sink into his depths as he let his body weight carry him down.
He was too aroused to hold back and was quickly moving up and down on Andy. He felt the fullness of every descent and the emptiness of each rise. He kept up the rhythm of his fuck until too aroused to maintain it. He began to move faster. Increasing his pace until he no longer could sense the fullness or emptiness separately. He moved with an urgency as he stroked his own cock. He leaned back, bracing one hand on Andy’s knee and pumped his ass on the cock. He built up a brutal pace, ass slamming down on Andy’s hips as he stroked his own cock. The sofa began to squeak beneath them. The attic seemed to heat up like a sauna as sweat cascaded down his face and torso. Andy began to push upward, and he knew he was pushing him to the point of release.
Andy watched intently every move by Robert. The way his ass moved up and down on his cock. How his hand was a blur, stroking his own cock. How his entire body glistened wetly in the dim light from his exertions. He felt it himself. The stroke of his cock, the tightness of his body as if exerting himself. He was even sweating. He took Robert by each ankle, his grip white knuckle tight, and thrust upward, pumping his hips in the mad pace of Robert’s fuck. Their bodies smacked together, and it seemed to push Robert to the point of release.
“Fuck…come for me…come on Andy, pump it in me,” Robert uttered as he felt his own imminent release.
Andy pushed his head back into the corner of the sofa and cried out as he thrust upward. His cock grew thicker, more sensitive to every touch, then exploded in Robert’s depths. He kept thrusting upward, hips smacking against ass with each ejaculation. As his cock filled Robert’s hole, he watched Robert throw his head back and come. The cum spurt out in thick wads that rained down on Robert’s chest and stomach. It seemed to engulf the whole attic, the smell of cum and sex and he fell still as Robert slowed his pace until seated on his cock gasping for breath.
Cum trickled around Robert’s torso and dripped down on one of his thighs. He felt sated in a way like never before as he wondered, who was this person before him.
Vince & Ian
Ian lay next to Vince on his side. Vince held his left leg up while driving cock into his depths. He considered the size of it, how he had struggled to take it in his mouth, then the initial penetration. But it moved smoothly through his loosened opening as it bore into his depths. Vince moved in a steady rhythm, undulating up against his back. He found himself moving with him. Undulating his ass on the cock that bore into his depths. Every sense was focused on their fuck as he moved on Vince’s cock. He never needed something so much as his need to be penetrated by another.
An arm came around his neck and held him tight as Vince increased his pace. Suddenly, he was being manhandled, shifted to his stomach as Vince moved on top. Cock bore into his depths then began to piston in his hole with an urgency. A brutal pace reflected by the sound of flesh smacking against flesh.
“Fuck,” Vince uttered.
Ian clutched at the bed and pushed his ass up to take the punishing brutal fuck. To submit to Vince. To take his fuck. He buried his face into the bed and cried out, then gasped for breath as an arm circled his neck and pulled him up.
Vince got on his knees and held him up on his own, back arched and his cock angled up hard as rock and drooling with his arousal. There was no hesitation in their fuck, Vince soon hammering cock into his depths. He rocked forward with every push wondering if he was going to come without being touched. If Vince kept battering his insides as he was doing, it was a possibility.
Then he was on his back, hands holding him behind the knees, pushing them against his chest. Folded and pinned to the bed, he watched Vince move over him. Then he felt the wide flared head of Vince’s cock touch his opening, then bore into it, all the way, until hips pressed against his upturned ass.
“You want me?” Vince asked.
“Yes,” Ian uttered breathless. “Fuck me.”
Ian pinned beneath him, Vince never felt his masculinity so vibrantly. He gasped for breath and felt feverish…and he never felt more alive. He sank all the way into Ian, settled over him and began to fuck. He worked his hips at a brutal pace. Hips smacked ass and his muscles burned with his exertion. The bed squeaked and banged into the wall and the scent of sweating bodies filled the air. He pushed down on the legs to make Ian feel it, his control over him and his own need for him. Working his hips up and down, he piston cock at a furious pace inside of him.
“Dammit…I want you,” Vince uttered as he fucked with all his energy.
He felt fingers dig into his side. The need and urgency behind their grip spurned him on.
His arousal grew to the point of release, and he slammed his cock into Ian’s depths then hammered his hips against the upturned ass. The smack of flesh against flesh, then the feel of his cock swelling thicker, Vince cried out then came. He pushed with each ejaculation until finally spent, then slowed to a stop hovering over Ian.
“Don’t stop,” Ian begged. “Please don’t stop…not yet.”
Vince smiled at the need, and he began to fuck again. He worked his cock inside Ian at a slow painful pace until his arousal grew intense once again. He felt his cock become rock hard. He rose to his knees and held the legs against his chest as Ian lay sprawled out before him. The lean body wet with sweat, the hard cock leaking on the stomach, and the glazed look to the eyes. He watched Ian take his own cock in hand. Soon he matched the pace of Ian’s masturbation. Once again, the bed protested beneath them, and he was fucking so hard the sound of their bodies smacking together echoed in the room. Ian began to move, to undulate in that manner that spoke of his own imminent release.
Vince was exhausted, gasping for every breath, but he couldn’t stop. He fucked Ian as he watched him, waiting for the moment he knew he could come again. Ian’s hand was a blur and his body shuddering with every thrust into his depths. Vince watched him, seeing the flush of the skin and how it glistened wetly. Then he saw it, the point of release.
Ian arched his back and pushed his ass down on Vince’s cock. He threw his arms out and clutched at the bed, then cried out as his cock spurt wad after wad without being touched. It flexed with each release as it rained cum down on the long lean torso.
Vince felt Ian’s release on his cock, and he shoved into him and came again, pumping out another load that would leave him exhausted and spent.
Martin & Bernard
Martin saw the looks as he followed Bernard through the house. Did they know what they had done? The smiles spoke of a knowing he didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or some satisfaction. Bernard held his hand, leading him to the front door and out to the porch.
Under the lights of the porch and the stares of those on the porch, Bernard turned toward him before going down the steps.
“You want to go get breakfast at Athens, then maybe…come back to my place?”
Martin smiled and nodded his head.
“Let me run home, get a shower, and some clean clothes on, then I’ll meet you at the restaurant,” Martin replied.
“Good idea, for I think we probably smell of the club and…” Bernard smiled at what was left unsaid. “I’ll do the same and see you there.”
As they started down the steps, the front door swung open and two guys came out, and Bernard thought they looked the way he felt.
Andy & Robert
When they came down the attic stair, Eric was in the hall leaning against the wall. With a smirk on his face, he watched them ease into the hall and close the door.
“Now you’re trying to be quiet?” Eric mocked them. “Jesus, you guys were noisy as fuck up there,” he added as he laughed.
“I glad we could entertain you,” Robert joked as he led Andy pass Eric.
“I’m just glad someone is getting fucked tonight,” said Eric.
Robert looked back with a grin. “If you would broaden what you wanted…”
“I’m not having sex with guys,” Eric laughed, then pushed off the wall and disappeared in his room.
Andy wanted to be embarrassed but couldn’t find the shame within to do so. He followed Robert down the stair until they were in the foyer.
“Hey, you want to go get some breakfast?”
“Yeah, that sounds good for I’m starving,” Andy replied.
“We’ll leave that tank you drive here and take my car.”
“Okay,” replied Andy as he followed Robert out to the porch. Before them were two other guys he had seen at the club. He saw a reflection of themselves and grinned foolishly as they followed them down the sidewalk.
Vince & Ian
Vince stood out of the spray of the shower as he soaped up Ian’s back. He ran his hands down the tall lean torso, slick hands over the smooth skin.
“You can crash here with me, if you want.”
Ian turned and smiled. “That would be nice.”
Vince ran his hand between the ass cheeks wanting to touch Ian everywhere. He wanted to know this body, every nook and cranny. To feel the collarbone that was so visible, to trace a finger around the nipples, and connect the three moles on the lower back. They could be making an arch, or maybe a triangle.
“I really need some sleep,” Ian uttered as he braced his hands on the wall letting Vince bathe him.
“We both do. You know the sun is coming up.”
“Yeah.”
“I wonder if the afterparty has wound down.”
“Afterparty?”
“Some friends who live in this strange old house that is divided up into apartments always throw these afterparties. Some don’t last too long but others…well, they could still be going.”
“Jesus. So, every weekend these four friends do this?”
“They take turns being the host, so the others can avoid having to deal with drinks and snacks or letting one of them call it a night. Tonight, it was Upstairs at Eric’s.