Three Strikes - 5. Boi's Night

We were standing outside of the club anxiously waiting for Drew, Aaron, and Kurt to arrive. It was a busy night and the line was already stretched down the street. We hadn’t been waiting for more than a couple of minutes before I saw them walking toward us.

It was like a slow motion movie—Aaron was in front with Drew and Kurt on either side of him, but they weren’t just walking, oh no, they were swinging their hips and exaggerating their steps like runway models.

As soon as they arrived, they each did a three-sixty spin before striking a pose. I was dying laughing and so was everyone else. They looked amazing. Well, as amazing as three straight boys could be when they’re posing as gay, which they did a decent job of.

Drew was right, Aaron looked hilariously amazing. He wore a pair of tight khaki shorts that’d been cut very short, an army-green, button up shirt he’d scrunched up and tied off, revealing his incredibly toned stomach, and the outfit was topped off with Timberland boots.

“Aaron, you’re looking like the slutty Halloween version of Steve Erwin. You’re absolutely salacious.”

Kurt went with the British prep look in a pair of navy chinos and a slim-fitted popped collared shirt that was loud, obnoxious, and totally something Allé would wear. I decided to help him out a little and unbuttoned the top half of his buttons, revealing his moderately hairy chest. He appeared a little uncomfortable, at first, but with enough gushing and repeated compliments from everyone, he quickly warmed-up to it.

I crossed my arms and gave Drew a disapproving look.

“What are you wearing?”

He at least had enough sense to look apologetic.

“I know! I didn’t know what to wear and there wasn’t much I could pull from.”

He looked great, but it wasn’t what I’d expect anyone to wear to a gay club. He wore jeans (thank God they were tight) and a white cardigan sweater. He was better suited for Easter brunch, but who am I kidding, I still wanted to eat him alive. We spent a few more minutes doing little things to help them improve their appearance and then I had a flash of brilliance and grabbed a can of glitter spray from Allé’s purse.

“Oh-my-god. Can I tink you guys?”

I smiled brightly and waved the can in front of them and explained what tinking was, they reluctantly agreed to let me spray them—after I’d already started, which essentially removed any choice they’d had. I’d just finished tinking Drew’s blonde locks when I heard Aaron yelling.

“Shane! Come get tinked! We’re so gay!”

I looked over Drew’s shoulder and, sure enough, Shane was walking toward us. That was a disappointment. I crossed my arms and for the second time that night I disappointedly looked at Drew.

“Sorry, but the four of us are a package deal. You guys are the DONNAS and we’re the—.”

His face shifted as he tried to mentally arrange the letters into a plausible acronym.

“DAKS. You’re the DONNAS and we’re the DAKS. Plus, he’s gay! We can’t go to a gay club without our only token gay friend.”

“Fine, just keep him away from me. I was planning on having a good time tonight.”

Drew put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed me in.

“I’ll do my best, but I’ll be busy being your perfect wingman.”

We laughed and I called the group into a huddle before going inside.

“We need to tone down the heteroness that’s happening here. It’s a big no-no to bring straight, hot guys into a gay club, so we’re going to pair off.”

Shane almost looked hopeful that he’d get paired off with me, most likely because he didn’t want to walk in with the quarter dressed twins or Allé, the flamboyant straight guy.

“Aaron, you take the twins. Kurt you take Sammy and Oliver. Allé, you take Shane.”

I grabbed Drew and we locked our arms together. We trailed behind the group as we skipped the line and went straight for the door.

“Don’t we have to wait in line like everyone else?”

Drew whispered into my ear. He was nervous about pissing off the gay men that’d been waiting in line. In return, I whispered into his ear.

“Oliver has connections.”

Drew looked at me, quizzically, and I smiled.

“Let’s just say that the Toucan Sam you saw in his pants during the baseball game isn’t fluff.”

His eyes got big, but before he had a chance to comment, we were being ID’d and ushered through the door and into a mass of gyrating bodies and loud music. I went to the bar with Aaron to help him order drinks while the others fought for a table. By the time we finished, the they’d managed to secure a table, which was incredibly surprising. We passed the drinks around and Aaron got down to business.

“Okay, so we’re supposed to be wingmen, but how does that work in a place like this? What are you guys looking for?”

“Well, usually we wait for D to make his choice and then we pick over the remaining carcasses.”

Nelly complained, again! I glared at him. His constant rudeness became annoying after a while.

“Shut up, Nel.”

I looked at the DAKS and explained.

“A night like tonight is rare for me because I don’t do this often. The twink twins probably get the most play out of us all, then Oliver, then Sammy. You three (I purposefully left Shane out) are going to get hit on a ton tonight since you’re all hot. Ask them a few questions and, if they seem good, tell them you have a VD or something and send them my way.”

“What kind of questions do we ask? Is there any other excuse besides an STD?” Kurt deadpanned.

The table erupted in laughter. He was definitely more straight laced than the other two.

“Tell them you’re married to one of the other heteros. You’ll probably get a few propositions, but it should shut down most of the advances. I’m versatile, but I’m mostly a bottom and that’s what I’m hoping for tonight. I prefer the guy to be bigger than me. Check for body odor and bad breath. I don’t mean to sound high maintenance, but I don’t sleep around much so, when I do, I prefer to keep good company.

“Also, I’m far from being a size queen, but a minimum of six--seven and bigger would be great. Oh! Check their hands! I have a thing against guys with alligator hands. I don’t want to feel like I’m being rubbed with a cheese grater, especially—.”

I pointed at my dick and they quickly nodded in agreement. I had to laugh when I noticed them secretly surveying the softness of their own hands.

“Don’t worry, you guys won’t have to do much. In a few minutes, there will be a line of eligible bachelors waiting to be denied. It happens every time we come out. They know D doesn’t take guys home often so on a night like tonight—it’s going to be insane! All you have to do is spread the word that Gordy’s looking for tail and—boom—instant line.”

“Stop it, Nel. That’s not true.”

“I’m going to have to go with Gordy on this one. There’s no way he gets that much attention.”

Shane smirked like the asshole he is. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

It’s ironic that the one gay guy in DAKS looks, and acts as though he’s as straight as a homophobic arrow. He looked cocky as fuck when he leaned back with his arms hanging over the back of the booth. He was wearing a tight, black, V-neck tee and a backward hat. It didn’t look as if he’d had much of a haircut because the fringe was still sticking out.

I usually had a fair amount of prospective suitors when we went out, although nothing like what Nel had described. I found myself hoping and praying I’d get enough of them tonight to shove it in Shane’s face.

I snapped.

“Feel free to go catch your own tail. There’s nothing keeping you here.”

“I have prospects, but for now, I’m going to sit back and watch ‘all of these men’ fawn over you.”

His smile was smug and the sarcasm was thick, making it obvious to anyone listening that he didn’t believe any of it. I think the rest of the DONNAS sensed Shane’s negative impact on my mood because they got up and started scouting around. I turned my attention to DAK (purposefully leaving the S out).

“You guys can either come dance with me or scout.”

Kurt, ever the timid one, decided to join the others and learn how to scout properly while Drew and Aaron joined me on the floor. They were awesome. Aaron and Drew were married (that was their escape clause), and Aaron took his job as wingman very seriously. He also took his gay charade seriously.

Drew was doing both things with an air of mediocrity however, that wasn’t a complaint considering he was straight and a noob to the gay scene. It was clear that Aaron liked to be the best at everything he did, including being a wingman.

I was approached by several guys; turned a few down instantly and danced with a few. I was a little confused when a few of the good ones randomly disappeared.

We went back to the table that Shane and Sam had, every so sweetly, saved for us. The rest of the DONNAS and Kurt were killing it and, by extension, proving Nelly right and Shane wrong. There was a constant stream of men coming to the table with drinks, invites to dance, and promises of a good time.

I tried not to but I couldn’t help feeling a little smug with all of the attention I was getting—it was a sweet victory against rat ass. Aaron was doing a stellar job of screening the guys and allowing the good ones through. Yet, every time I turned my back to use the restroom or talk to a friend, the sexy stud I was flirting with would vanish.

There had been a very apparent and mutual interest with all of them, yet they all left, were taken by UFO’s, or were spontaneously dissipated back into the universe. By the tenth guy, I was sure the place was haunted.

“Where did JoJo go? What was wrong with him? He said he was a nine, and I don’t think he was talking about his looks. His hands were freakishly soft, his nails were manicured, he smelled like heaven, and he had a beautiful smile.”

Aaron was clearly frustrated that all his hard work seemed to be going down the drain. News flash, Aaron. I was frustrated, too.

“Aar, JoJo was perfect. I have no fucking clue as to where he went. Ask the other ten guys that have mysteriously vanished tonight. Seriously, what’s going on here? Is there something wrong with me? Am I too tinked? I knew going with the tousled hair was a bad idea. I should’ve worn it normal. Damnit!”

I chugged an entire drink, which seemed to be the only thing I had in abundance around me that night. I shook my head with confusion, frustration, anger, and a myriad of other emotions. Luckily, I was pretty drunk—not too drunk, but enough to cool the burn to my ego.

I mumbled (slightly louder than I’d meant to) to myself.

“It looks as though there’ll be no decent sex for me tonight.”

That got the attention of most of the table, and Drew humorously lifted his brow.

“Decent sex. Is that all? Not great, mind blowing, or earth shattering sex? Only decent?”

“Have you ever had mind blowing or earth shattering sex with a one night stand? Not likely, and don’t argue because I’ll call you on your bullshit. Sure, I’d love to experience any of those three adjectives when talking about sex with a stranger, but let’s be real for a second. Typically, it’s slightly awkward and, at best, is fucking decent, which isn’t a complaint. I’ll take decent over terrible sex any day. Decent is a realistic expectation and anything above that is icing on the cake.”

I started on another drink. There was no use wasting them since they were all free and currently littering the table in excess. Sammy and Oliver had left with new companions, the twins were tired so they went home, and Allé was wandering around and making friends like he always did.

I could tell the DAKS were itching to go home, which meant the evening was over. Aaron did a great job, but it turned out that clubbing with heteros was bad luck. I sucked my drink dry and flopped back; surrendering myself to the total failure that was the night.

Shane had his arm stretched out on the booth ledge behind me and when I leaned back, I inadvertently leaned against his arm. I shot forward again to put distance between his skin and mine.

“Oh, shit! Sorry,” I apologized for touching him.

I felt his thumb brush against my shoulder.

“It’s cool. Can you let me out? I’m gonna to go dance,” he said, basically brushing me off.

He’d wandered around the club all evening, but I hadn’t seen him dance at all. I hadn't seen him do much of anything all night. I thought it’d be interesting to see him do something besides judge me, so I scooted out of his way. I was getting ready to sit back down when Shane grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the table.

“What the fuck?” I questioned.

“We’re going to dance.”

“No-we-are-not.”

“Yes-we-are,” he said, dragging me away from the table.