- Author
- 02/04/2016
- 1,707 Words
- 4,958 Views
- 30 Comments
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.
Lion's Lair - 5. Problem Solved?
We'd only been in the car for a few minutes, and I couldn't stand it any longer; I had to say something. "Benoit, what the fuck was up with you back there? You were a total ass to those guys!"
"Ben, I told you I didn't wanna go there, but you insisted. Not my goal to hang out in a gay bar with a bunch of fags."
He managed to hit several hot buttons there. 'First of all, I asked before we headed there, and you said ok. Second, Ben is a good man, and a friend, and the other guys there are, too--they're not just 'fags' as you called 'em; they're good folks. Third, I see them, and other people in that bar, around town both socially and professionally--and I need to maintain friendly relationships with them. This town isn't that big. I just wish you'd been more friendly, that's all."
"Look, I don't give a shit over what you do with any of 'em; they have nothing to do with me. I don't know how many times I've got to fuckin’ tell ya, I'm not queer. I like how you take care of my dick, but beyond that, I have absolutely no god-damned interest in being around a bunch of prim and proper faggots. Hell, I'm only going dancing tonight because you want it. Plenty of other places in the Quarter we could go and have fun than with a bunch of sweaty shirtless queers."
We've had this discussion multiple times before. It still amazes me that, even though he really enjoys the sex we have, he still seems to be in such denial about who he is. I guess its part of that “I'm a total bad-ass total top" attitude he's got. Or maybe it's something in his background, although we’ve never really talked about it--and he certainly doesn't volunteer anything about his past.
And if I'm being honest, the sex with him is hot as hell. Rough, rowdy, almost violent. The few bruises I've gotten, along with the sore nipples and tender ass after he paddled and fucked me were reminders the next day or so of just how outrageous the sex has been. Certainly not the slower vanilla sex I've done with other guys.
"Just please don't disappear this time like you did last time. It was almost two hours before I could find ya after we'd gotten split up at Emerald City. I like having you around." I take my eyes off the road for a second to turn and smile at him.
"Aw, you know I’ve got too much energy to just stand around with a drink in hand. I like to be on the move ... but I'll try not to disappear for too long, ok?" Benoit slumps against the door as though he's just made a great concession.
There's a couple of minutes of silence. Not necessarily uncomfortable, but waiting to be filled. Benoit pulls out a joint, lights it up, cracks the window a little, and inhales deeply. "Maybe we can go over to the Eagle tonight. A guy last week said they had a back room with a sling. It'd be fun to fuck ya in a sling, and let everyone watch. Hell, maybe tie ya into the sling and I can watch when I let a few other guys fuck ya. You'd like that, wouldn't ya, Ben?" And that last line is more statement than question.
Hell, it's only been a couple of weeks since I checked him out in the gym's sauna; he’s the one who made the moves on me. When did I lose control on all of this? Why can't I just say no to the guy?
It's going to be a long night.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Ryan's holding the door as I carry our round of fresh drinks to the patio. I'm a little concerned about what he's going to say. Has he already decided he’s not interested in me? I don't think I've done anything, but ....
"Clayton, how about over there? If you don't mind sitting on one of the deck steps, that’d put us at the same seated height."
"That works, Ryan." We move to the broad deck steps, I put the drinks beside me, between me on the steps and Ryan's chair, along with an ashtray I've snagged from one of the tables on the upper deck if Ryan decides to have a smoke.
"It's just so nice outside, I thought it'd be a change of pace to be out here a little while. Besides, we can chat without shouting over the music and have a little privacy, too."
Uh oh... here it comes ....
"Clayton, I wanna be up front with you. I know I said thanks for the great date last night, but I wanna tell you again, that was one of the best dates anyone could ask for. And the way we ended it without you doing a hard-core push for a fast fuck .... well, I really appreciated that." Ryan's bashfully smiling as he says it.
"Trust me, it was my real pleasure."
"And that's what makes it so hard to say what I'm about to say--it was just so ... well, perfect. But the therapist I had when I was first getting used to the idea of being without legs always said that it's best to just deal with these things honestly and directly. Kinda like pulling the Band-Aid off all at once."
If you're dumping me, just get on with it!
"I'm just not the kind of guy that can match what you did last night, Clayton. I can't compete; hell, I can't even come close. I'm just a good ole farm boy from Nebraska, I struggle to make ends meet; you've obviously got me beaten to hell and back on social skills. Shit, I've never even heard you curse." He smiles when he realizes he just swore when he commented on my lack of profanity. "And, other than both of us having big-ass hearts, there's no way I'm measuring up to you. You've got the experience and social connections and broad expanse of knowledge that I just don't have.“ He pauses to look at his stubs for a minute, and that meaning comes through loud and clear. "And yet, you're one of the most appealing men I've ever met. I guess what I’m saying is ...."
He’s every bit as insecure with all of this as I am!
I guess it was that realization, or maybe a tension relief, but a long belly laugh bubbles up from deep within. Ryan's looking at me like I've grown a set of alien horns.
"Clayton?"
I finally catch my breath, and look at him. "Ryan, move over here by me, ok?" He deftly maneuvers his way out of his chair, and seats himself next to me. I grab his hand, and look in his eyes.
"Ryan, you need to fuckin' forget all that goddamn bullshit you've got cycling in that good-looking head of yours." I'm smiling, since I've made a point to include the cursing, and Ryan gets it, too, and grins as well.
It's a good start to lightening up this conversation.
"You're trying to be up-front with me, and I'm going to do the same. And the real point you're making is that you're every bit as much caught off guard and insecure with me as I am with you. This isn't a competition, Ryan. Yeah, a comparison, maybe, but not a competition. You've got your strengths, and I've got mine. And I'm every bit as in the dark about what's going on between us as you are. All I know is that I want to get to know you better--and that's a strong feeling. I'm not rushing, but I'm not letting this slide by, whatever "this" is. Now, are we on the same page?"
I lean in just a little, and Ryan takes advantage to give me a quick affirming kiss. And, after the kiss, Ryan smiles an endearingly crooked smile and nods. "One day, I wanna be able to do that."
"What?"
"Get to the heart of things that clearly. You've got insights I don't."
I'm laughing again. "That's just a function of age and experience. When you get to this age and stage, it's easier to cut to the chase."
Ryan looks, smiles, then a combination serious/curious expression appears on his square-jawed face. "How old are ya, Clayton?"
The moment of truth.
Deep breath. "I'm ....."
Ryan's quick to interrupt me. "Look, Clayton, it's not a big deal." He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't think of you as 'old Clayton"' or anything like that; you’re just the attractive Clayton I'm interested in." There's that charming smile again. "If you don't wanna talk about this now, that's fine. Just know it's a curiosity and nothing more, ok?"
Another deep breath. "I'm 62.'
Ryan just nods. "I'm 34. And you don't look or act 62. Seriously, it's not an issue. You've got plenty of other qualities that are dragging me in. And it's not like I've got Daddy issues."
"Glad to hear it. You call me 'Daddy', I'll take it as permission to spank your ass when I decide you need it."
Ryan fist-pumps the air. "Yes! Now you're talking--a little kink!"
We're both laughing at this point, as Ryan leans in for another kiss I happily provide. "Seriously, Clayton, it's really not an issue. I don't know how to explain the attraction I have for you, but it's there, and I'm not gonna run from it. If we can work past our insecurities, we'll do just fine. And I'm committing to do that with you and see where it goes. Deal?"
"Deal."
"Now, Clayton, feel better about you, me, us?"
"Yes."
Ryan's grinning a wicked grin, his eyebrow cocked above an right eye. "And kink can be good!", he winks.
I'm laughing as I kiss him.
Obviously, we've got some work ahead. And maybe I'm getting closer to letting him know the "secret" me. At least I'm feeling good about that level of openness.
Problem solved?
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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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