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    Rob Colton
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Noah's New Plan - 6. Chapter 6

Needing a distraction from his ex, Noah decides to go out.

"The Buckle, please."

The cab driver turned around in her seat, looked Noah up and down. Raising an eyebrow, she spoke slowly as if Noah was dense. "You sure about that, hun? I think Rainbows might be more your speed."

Noah frowned. Like he was going to take advice from a woman with a mullet. "The Buckle, please."

"They're down the block from each other, so... Why don't I drop you off in between."

When they arrived, Noah paid his fare, leaving a tip that was far more than she deserved.

Noah could see the flashing colorful lights of Rainbows down the street. A rainbow flag hung from a pole over the door, in case it wasn't completely obvious how gay the place was.

Turning in the opposite direction, he headed for the Buckle.

A pair of men exited the darkened bar entrance.

Noah slowed, then stopped as the men passed him. One man wore ripped up jeans and a wife beater. The bigger of the two wore a pair of black leather pants. No shirt. A leather harness was strapped across his chiseled chest, a silver ring in the middle where the two straps crossed in an "X" shape.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Noah looked down at his outfit. He wore a pair of pressed designer jeans and a pink Polo shirt. He might as well have put his library ID lanyard around his neck to complete his nerd outfit.

He turned around and headed for Rainbows.

* * * *

The music was way too loud. The cover was too expensive. It was too hot. There were too many people. And there was the not so insignificant fact that he felt like an old pervert in a sea of young gay men.

No one gave him a second glance. Hell, he couldn't even get a first glance. It was as if he did not even exist. To these kids, he probably didn't. He sure as hell wasn't going to be getting laid here unless someone wanted a sugar daddy.

Oh my god, they probably think I'm a chicken hawk. I might as well be put out to pasture right now.

Head hung, Noah shoved his hands into his pockets and fought his way through the crowds until he got outside.

That was a complete bust. He could get a cab and head back home, or...

What the hell have I got to lose?

* * * *

The last person Eli expected to walk through the door of the Buckle was Noah the nerdy little librarian. Okay, maybe the Pope was the last, but Noah was next.

Eli sat on a bar stool just inside the door checking IDs. When Noah recognized him, he looked panicked, like he was going to turn and run.

"Hey, Noah."

"Hi." Noah's eyes roamed Eli's body.

Noah had only seen Eli in uniform. Right now Eli wore a pair of comfortable leather biker pants and a black tank top. Noah was staring at Eli's arms. The tank top showed off his tattoo sleeves and muscular arms and chest. There was a reason why his buddy had him working here as a bouncer part time.

Eli wasn't sure if Noah's reaction was a positive one or not. He just kinda stood there staring.

"I need to check your ID."

Noah finally looked at Eli, his brows crunched together. "You know how old I am."

"You look so damn young, I don't wanna get busted," Eli joked.

Noah rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right," he said before mumbling something about Rainbows.

Eli winced inwardly. Rainbows probably wasn't too good for the other man's ego. Those young kids probably looked at him like he was an old troll. Even though Noah looked like he was on his way to summer in the Hamptons, he wouldn't have any problems here. These guys would eat him up whole.

That didn't quite sit well with Eli. He knew how some of these guys were. Gentle little Noah wouldn't know what hit him.

Eli returned Noah's ID. "Why don't you get a drink, on me, then come back. Pull up a stool. We can chat a bit."

Noah looked around the bar. "I just wanted to look around a bit..."

Eli signaled the bartender, gesturing towards Noah. "Just stay away from the backroom. The one with the red light over the door. Trust me."

That panicked expression was back. Noah just nodded his head. "Yes. Definitely."

As the smaller man walked to the bar, Eli tipped his head to the side and watched his ass. Nice.

Noah ordered a cocktail and the bartender tipped his head towards Eli as he handed it over.

It didn't take long before the vultures started to circle.

The first to make a move was an asshole named Crane. The man was all hands. Eli had seen the man get rough with his boys. While the men who usually frequented the Buckle could take it like that, Noah was just out of a twenty-year relationship. Only having had sex with one man, he certainly wasn't ready to be turned out in the backroom of a leather bar.

Just as Eli was about to go over there, the door opened and a group of men entered. Mumbling a curse under his breath, Eli checked their IDs. When he turned back, Noah was gone.

Scanning the dark bar, he searched until he found Noah. Crane had an arm around Noah's shoulder and was leading him towards the backroom.

Eli got up so fast his barstool tipped over.

"Woah," Noah protested. "Thanks for the drink and all, but..."

Crane ignored Noah, pulling him towards the red light. "I got something I wanna show you. You're gonna love it."

Eli pushed between the two men, pulling Noah's back against his chest. He pressed a hand against against Crane's chest, putting distance between the men.

"Get your fucking hands off my boy."

span>This week’s post ended up at 994 words. The plot prompt I used this week was “put out to pasture”.
Copyright © 2014 Rob Colton; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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