Bloodlines - 12. Chapter 12

August 20, 1998

The Dassault Falcon descended through the clouds, the plane shaking lightly from the turbulence, and then broke on through to the other side. The views were breathtaking, despite the overcast skies. Two massive mountain ranges seemed to encircle a sprawling community, or they tried to. But the community wasn't big enough to fill up all the space. There was more land than people. We landed smoothly and then taxied to the terminal where a Hummer limo waited for us. Too funny. We walked down the steps, with Stef in front and me bringing up the rear.

“Welcome to Laramie!” a big, burly man said. “You must be Stefan Schluter! I'm Bud Collins!” The contrast between the two was hysterical. I caught Brad's eyes and knew he was thinking the same thing. Bud Collins wore jeans, a western shirt with a bolo tie, and cowboy boots. His beer belly sagged over his belt. Stef, although the same height, looked slight in comparison, with his slim body and cat-like movements. He was dressed flashy, of course, in some LaCroix suit that was his latest pride and joy. It was blue, but not a navy blue, a more vibrant, medium shade of blue. Too funny.

“A pleasure to meet you Mr. Collins,” he said. Collins looked incredibly uncomfortable with Stef. I guess he thought homosexuality was contagious. “These are my nephews, Brad Schluter and Matt Carrswold.” We both shook his hand. He seemed much more at ease with us. He evidently liked his men to be butch and masculine. I wanted to scream, “Hey, we're fags too.”

“I was thinking that we'd take you into Laramie and show you the town, then take you out to see the property tomorrow,” he said. That made us all suspicious. Why would he want to delay showing us the land? The only reason would be to give us less time to inspect it.

“Well, I'm sure Laramie is lovely, but I'm a businessman and time is money, Mr. Collins,” Stef said formally. “I'd like to start looking at this land now, if you can arrange that.”

“Certainly,” he said, abashed. We hopped into the ‘limo’ and tooled around a large area of rugged land, all the while comparing what we were seeing with the map. It was really beautiful. The Hummer climbed up some pretty steep hills, kind of freaking me out. Stef and Brad were as cool and calm as could be. I guess Bud Collins was trying to freak us all out a little bit, but it only worked on me. I studied the terrain, the rugged land with all kinds of opportunities for fun. In the winter, it must be spectacular with the snow on the mountains. After we were jostled around for most of the day, the limo finally took us to downtown Laramie, a cute, if a bit clichéd, version of a western town, and deposited us at a small hotel. It was really nice inside, well appointed, and awfully similar to the place I'd stayed at in Claremont.

“This looks like the Claremont Plaza,” I said to Stef. “You know, that small hotel near that City Museum. That place is hideous.”

Stefan and Brad started laughing. “I grew up in that house,” Stef said. “My great great great grandfather built it, or at least started it.”

Oops. “Shit, I'm sorry Stef. I didn't mean to insult your ancestral home,” I apologized hastily.

“Do not apologize. You have good taste, it is hideous. JP always called it the Monstrosity,” Stef said diplomatically. “I have not been there in years, although we have the right to hold family Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Fourth of July events there. You could have stayed there, had we known you were going to Claremont.”

“Then you would have banged your grandson in your ancestral home,” Brad joked. “That's sure to have some people turning in their graves.” I started cracking up, while Stef pretended to glower at Brad.

“As if they were any better,” he said flippantly.

Bud Collins had been anxious to buy us dinner and show us the town. He probably took most of his visitors to the strip club we'd seen at the edge of town, but that wouldn't work with this crew. We managed to brush him off and do dinner on our own. There was a bar next door that the hotel manager recommended, so we headed over there.

We walked in and were greeted by a corny version of a western bar to go with the clichéd downtown. It had floors that were planks, made to look rustic, and all kinds of western shit on the walls. And cowboys, or wannabe cowboys. There were about ten guys and half as many women hanging around the bar, and a few more at tables. I looked at the guys and licked my lips. These were real men, men who worked with their hands and their bodies. They weren't like LA men, where the muscles were the result of time in a gym. There was one guy, a guy with brown clipped hair at the end of the bar who looked at me briefly, then looked away. Damn, he was hot. Most of the people weren't looking at me or Brad though. Most of them were staring at Stef. “What are they looking at?” Stef asked.

“You,” Brad said. “I don't think your fashion magazines make it up here. You must look a bit different to them.”

I laughed. “Don't you have any jeans Stef?”

“Of course I do,” he said.

“Only his jeans cost $500 a pair,” Brad said. “How about some Levis Stef?”

“If you two don't behave, I'll go find one of those burly frontiersmen to keep me company,” he said petulantly.

“Wow, you're getting to be as grumpy as JP,” Brad said. “You know who you remind me of?”

“Say it and I will plot to slice out your innards,” Stef said.

“Who?” I asked.

“On a different note,” Brad said playfully, “you would have loved my grandmother. We called her Tonto. It's hard to describe her. She was a little cantankerous.”

“Just a little?” Stef asked sarcastically. “I am not like her at all. JP sometimes reminds me of her though. I will have to share that with him when I get home.” He laughed at his own joke. Then he got back to business. “So what did you think?”

“It's pretty much like they said it was,” Brad said. There was something in his tone that told me he wasn't comfortable with it.

“Why do you seem nervous?” I asked him.

“There's something going on here that they're not telling us,” Brad said. I had the same feeling, now that he mentioned it.

“If your instincts tell us to pass, we will pass,” Stef said. “There are plenty of opportunities out there.”

“I'm not sure,” Brad said. “I really like this property. What makes it so attractive, as I see it, are the mineral rights. There could be a gold mine here, literally. Let's see how the negotiations go tomorrow.”

We had a good dinner, steaks that were probably alive this morning, and potatoes that probably came from Idaho since it was right next door. And a good amount of beer. I sat there stuffing myself, and kept glancing up at the bar at my cute, hunky cowboy. He was leaning against the bar so his range of vision took in everything, including our table. When I looked up, it seemed like he was looking at me more frequently.

“Excuse me,” I said to the waitress. “Where are the restrooms?”

“Through that door in the back,” she said, pointing behind the bar. I nodded and excused myself. I headed right toward the cowboy, pretending that I was going to say something to him. His eyes met mine, nice hazel eyes, then we looked away and I walked right past him and into the back. There were two bathrooms. One was occupied, so I took the one that wasn't. It was an interesting set up. It had a urinal and a toilet next to each other, and a sink. It was clearly meant for one person.

I started to close the door behind me when someone pushed it open. My cowboy. “Oh, sorry,” he said. “Damn I need to piss.”

“It's just us,” I said. “I'll share.” I closed the door behind him and locked it, making sure he couldn't hear, then dropped my pants and sat on the toilet. He stood at the urinal and pulled out his dick. A stream of piss came out, and I found that disappointing. Maybe he really did just have to pee? Still, he was in the bathroom with me, his dick was less than a foot away from me, and I wasn't about to miss this. He was done and stood there, shaking his dick a little, and then squeezing it, more of a stroke.

I looked up at him and licked my lips. He smiled down and angled his hips so his cock was in my face. I opened my mouth and moved in and swallowed him. He smelled ripe, the smell of a man who'd been working all day and hadn't had a shower. It was actually pretty hot, since I was blowing him, but I wouldn't have wanted to explore any deeper. He grabbed the back of my head with his hands and took over the motion, fucking my face. He had a pretty small dick, small enough that it barely grazed the back of my throat, so I was totally cool with that. Then he really got into it, really fucking my mouth, groaning and grunting. My own hand stroked my cock furiously while my mouth worked his organ. In no time at all I heard a big grunt, and then I tasted his load as it poured into my mouth. He shot a big load, a really big load. When he was done, he zipped up his pants, nodded to me to say thank you, and opened the door carefully to make sure no one else was out there. Then he snuck out. By the time I had finished stroking-off myself and got back out to the bar he was gone.

I found Stef and Brad waiting for me with knowing grins on their faces. I just ignored them, waiting for them to say something. Finally Stef yawned. “I am tired, and we have an early morning.”

“I'm going to stay here a bit longer,” I said. I checked out some of the other cowboys at the bar. None of them even looked at me. They wouldn't, not until later when they were drunk and their guard was down.

“Don't get in trouble,” Brad said as he got up to go with Stef.

“I think that Mr. Collins has made sure that no one bothers him,” Stef said. “There are some gentlemen here to keep an eye on things.” I looked over to the side of the bar where two big monstrous guys sat, trying not to look at us too obviously. Bodyguards. “I suspect gay people are not the most popular people here.”

“Then I'll be fine,” I said. They left and I sat at the table, downing beers and watching the people come and go. As it got later, a few college-age kids came in and sat at a table near me. Then there were a few more, until the bar’s demographic had changed to about half cowboy and half college kids. I looked at my watch. It was still early, so I had another beer and just watched the people.

About two tables away, there was one young guy who kept checking me out. He had light brown hair with highlights, cut long to lie on his face. He was thin and frail looking, and really cute. I watched him with his friends, and so did the other guys in the bar. This guy was pretty much openly gay. I could tell, and so could the cowboys at the bar. I was really worried for him. I could tell by his thin arms that he couldn't throw up much of a fight if someone fucked with him, and his friends looked like pussies too.

The waitress came up. “You want anything else sweetie?” Sweetie. Right.

“Yeah, I'll have another beer. See that guy over there? The one wearing the blue polo shirt?”

“Yeah, I see him,” she said disdainfully.

“I'm paying his tab tonight. Take him a beer for me,” I said. I handed her my credit card to validate what I said.

“If you say so,” she said. I watched her bring the beer over to him, and saw her talking to him. I grinned to myself as his friends all shut up and stared, looking at him, then at me. The waitress was blocking my view of him, but when she moved, he was staring right at me, smiling, with his sparkling eyes. He got up; acting playfully stuck up, and walked over to my table.

“Thanks for the beer Mister,” he said. His voice had a softness to it, a little feminine, a lot melodic.

“Mister? What am I, forty?” I joked. “I'm Matt.”

“So am I,” he said, and sat down, uninvited, with a boldness I admired. “So why'd you buy me a drink?”

“Because you're cute,” I said. He smiled really big.

“You think so?” He looked around the bar. “Most of these guys don't. At least not until closing time.”

“You could get your ass kicked in a place like this,” I said.

“Dude, you don't know Laramie. These guys, they all act tough, but most of them are good guys. No one's gonna hurt me here. Unless it's some scary outsider,” he said, staring at me meaningfully.

“I'm not gonna hurt you, unless you're into that,” I said with a leer, and made him giggle. “I'm staying next door. Flying out tomorrow. You want to come back to my room and risk it?”

“You think I'm that easy?” he asked.

“Why not? I'm that hard,” I said. He swallowed.

“I'll be right back,” he said. He got up to head over to his friends. I followed him; I didn't want them to think I was some creep. They were nice enough, but eyed me pretty suspiciously as I led him out of the bar and back to my room. We walked into the room and I turned to lock and bolt the door. When I turned back he was there, on his knees, ready to blow me. I put my hand on his chin and moved his face up to look at me. I put pressure on him, pulling him up so he was standing in front of him.

“You don't want me?” he asked.

“Oh, I want you,” I said as I leaned in and kissed him gently. “I just want to enjoy you.”

He smiled shyly. “Cool.” Then I kissed him again, glorying in the way I felt him surrender his whole body to me, to go limp in my arms. Using all I'd learned from Cody, Stef, and JP, I undressed him and led him to the bed, taking time to explore his body with my hands, and then my tongue. He was putty in my hands. I moved back up and kissed him, running my hand down his back and to his ass.

“I want you,” he moaned into my ear. “I want you so bad.” I turned him onto his stomach and moved my mouth and fingers down his back and ass, licking his hole, probing him forcefully with my tongue, then moving in gently with my fingers, slathered in lube. He didn't tell me when to fuck him, he let me set the pace, yet there was something about his reaction that told me to go slow and be gentle with him, even though his body seemed to be ready. So I did just that, slipping on a condom and pushing into him slowly, stopping when I felt him tense up, then pushing on after he relaxed.

“You feel so good,” I whispered to him. He just murmured and moved back into me, the clearest sign that he wanted me to fuck him, so I did. After the first few thrusts, I started to angle myself differently and he rewarded me by getting into it. And suddenly, this cute, perky guy turned into a wild animal. He let himself go, fully participating, moving with me so perfectly, so rhythmically, it was like a ballet. I felt myself getting close so I reached around to stroke his throbbing cock. I brought him off almost immediately, forcing myself to hurry and catch up, but even after he was finished and I was just starting, he didn't let up for a minute.

“That was amazing,” he said, rolling over and wrapping his arms around me. “Where did you come from?”

I laughed. “Well, from Ohio, by way of California.”

“Oh. So you're just passing through?” he asked, clearly disappointed. I'd told him that at the bar, but he must have forgotten.

“Yeah. I'm leaving tomorrow. I'm here looking at a land deal,” I said.

“From California? I heard Stefan Schluter was thinking of buying that property Collins has been trying to sell. Are you here representing him?” he asked.

“No, I'm here with him,” I said.

“He's here? Oh my God! You're kidding, right?”

“Oh, so I'm no good anymore now that Stef's here eh?” I teased.

He picked up on my mood. “Dude, he's been my idol like forever.”

“You want to meet him?” I asked.

“Don't tease me about this,” he said.

“Have I let you down yet?” I asked. He snuggled into me and I pulled him back on top of me, onto my chest.

“No, you haven't. You've been wonderful.” This guy was just adorable. “I should probably get going.”

“You think you're stronger than me?” I asked.

“No, why?”

“You're not leaving, you're staying here with me,” I said. “You need to make a call, make a call.”

“OK,” he said, and kissed my chest. “You are beautiful.”

“No, you're beautiful. I'm handsome.”

He giggled. “Thanks for being so gentle.”

“Now wait a minute. Here I am, fucking your brains out, and you tell me I was being gentle?” I asked, pretending to be offended.

“You know what I mean, asshole,” he said. “I don't do that often. It usually freaks me out.”

“Why?”

“When I was in high school, I took a field trip to Morocco and a bunch of guys raped me,” he said, trying to sound like he was over it, but it didn't work.

“I'm sorry about that,” I said, really worried. “I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“You didn't hurt me. You were wonderful. It's something I wanted you to know. And that I don’t do this all the time.”

My feelings for him surged, and so did my dick. “So does that mean doing it more than one time is out of the question?”

“Are you kidding me?” he asked with a grin. Then he was on me, straddling me and, with only a brief pause to roll the condom on my dick, he lowered himself onto me and took me for another terrific ride in his hot ass. He collapsed on top of me, panting, catching his breath.

“So you're not going to buy that land are you?” he asked.

“Why? Shouldn't we?” Now he had my attention.

“I work with an environmental group. There's a section of it that is contaminated. That's why they're selling it. The contract they want you to sign will include that parcel, and the liability for cleaning it up will be yours,” he said.

“That could cost a fortune,” I said.

“Why do you think Collins is rolling out the red carpet for you?” he asked. Brad's instincts were spot on. We spent the whole night fucking, and in between I thought about what Matt said, and how incredibly devious businesspeople could be.

August 21, 1998

The phone rang and woke me up. I looked at the clock and jumped up, knocking Matt off of me. “Hello,” I said, trying not to sound groggy.

“It's 7am. Aren't you joining us?” Brad said.

“I'm sorry. I was up late,” I told him. “Give me half an hour and I'll meet you.”

“We're meeting with Collins at 8am,” Brad said.

“We may need to push that back. Where are you guys?”

“We're in Stef's room. We've got food here,” he said.

“Enough for four?” I asked.

“Christ. You horn dog. Yeah, enough for four,” he said.

“We'll see you ASAP,” I said.

“What?” Matt asked.

“Come on. Time to shower. Then you get your wish. You get to meet Stefan.”

“I can't meet him dressed like this,” he said.

“Well, he's a gay man and you're nude, so that would probably be the best thing you could do,” I said, and he laughed. “Don't worry. He'll understand.” I had planned to hurry through the shower but he was too cute, so we had to take time for hand jobs. We rushed up to Stef's room and were very late. It was 8:15.

“You are late,” Stef said, irritated.

“I'm sorry Stef. This young man had some insight on the land deal, so I wanted you to meet him,” I said, trying to change the subject. “Plus he's a huge fan of yours.”

“Then why is he sleeping with you and not me?” Stef teased, remembering his manners. “Hello. I'm Stefan Schluter.”

“Matthew Shepard,” he said. “It's nice to meet you. You're, like, my idol.”

“And again, I cannot help but wonder why I slept alone last night,” Stef mused playfully.

“We can correct that if you want to pretend it's still night,” Matthew said, flirting back.

“So what about this land?” Brad asked.

“That is my other nephew, Bradley. He has no manners, and no sense of fun,” Stef said.

“Nice to meet you Matthew,” he said. “Now can we talk about this deal?”

“There's a parcel that is contaminated. It's not public knowledge. It should have been a super fund site, but it slipped through the cracks. The guy that owned it originally dumped all kinds of crap there,” Matthew said.

“Can you show us where it is on a map?” Brad asked, pulling out the huge map we'd been lugging around.

“Sure,” he said. He studied it carefully. “There, this parcel right here. It's no more than five acres.”

“It looks like they tacked it on like an appendage,” I said. It didn't fit into the continuity of the land.

“A rotten, expensive one,” Stef said.

“Except for that piece, it's a great piece of property,” Matthew said.

“Well Matthew, you have saved me a considerable amount of money. I do not know how to repay you,” Stef said.

“Do you have to meet with Collins?” Matthew asked.

“No, Brad can handle that,” Stef said. Brad rolled his eyes.

“Then I know what I want,” he said, leering at Stef. It was hilarious, to see the seducer get seduced.

“Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes,” Brad said to me. “Nice to meet you Matthew.”

I gave him a nice kiss. “I really enjoyed you,” I said. “Come to see us in California. We have lots of room.” I took out a business card, one of Stef's, and wrote all my contact info down on it. I just had time to grab my overnight bag, cram my stuff into it, and charge down to meet Brad.

“So who got the better deal, Stef or Matthew?” Brad joked.

“I'd call it a draw. Matthew will remember this for the rest of his life,” I said.

“Well howdy boys,” Bud Collins said as he strode in to see us. “You sleep well last night.”

“Just fine,” Brad said. I said nothing. “We ran through all the numbers, and the property looks great. We'll have our attorneys contact you within the next few days to try and finalize a deal.”

“I see,” he said. “Well, we're just not used to doin' business that way up here. Usually a man makes a decision and sticks with it.”

“Those men aren't investing over 50 million dollars,” Brad said. “We have that much money because we are careful and thorough in our due diligence.” He was awesome, so calm and firm.

“Well, you boys have to handle things your own way,” he said jovially, putting his arm around Brad's shoulders. The irritation Brad felt flashed across his face before he could stop it. “Just so you know, since we don't have a formal contract, another buyer could snap it up.”

“This property has been on the market for over six months,” Brad observed. “I'm guessing we've got a little more time before we have to worry about someone cutting our feet out from under us.”

Collins looked at him, wanting to be pissed, but knowing that he couldn't. “Well, it was nice meeting you all. Have a safe flight home.” We went into the hotel dining room and had some more food, until Stef came down about an hour later.

“We are ready to go?” he asked cheerfully.

“We have been, for an hour or so,” Brad said as we headed to the limo.

“He deserved to be treated right,” Stef said. Then smiled. Then giggled.

When I got home that night, there was a message on my phone from Matthew. “Matt that was the best time ever. Man. You and Stef are a blast. Thanks for everything. I'll have to get down to California to see you guys and spend a few weeks.” Now that would really be fun.

There was also an e-mail from Mummy.

Dear Matthew,

It sounds like you are very busy. And you are going to Spain now? I worry that you will stay well while you are over there. Do you have to go?

Your father and I have decided that since you are so busy, we will come see you and make sure you're all settled in. We'll be there during the week of September 14. I'll let you know when after your father schedules it in.

We miss you and can't wait to see you.

Love,

Mummy.

So since I was dodging a visit home to see them, they were coming here to see me. Great. Just great. Oh well, I guess the other kids will have their parents around too.

I took a nap and didn't wake up until right before dinner, when Alejandro came breezing in to get me to fuck him. He was a lot of fun, but I couldn't quite get Matthew out of my mind.

AUTHORS NOTE: It is likely that anyone reading this will know immediately who Matthew Shepard was and what happened to him. My representation of him here is purely fictional. He is described by his parents as "an optimistic and accepting young man [who] had a special gift of relating to almost everyone. He was the type of person who was very approachable and always looked to new challenges.” I tried to pick up on that and build out his personality and character as I visualized it. It made him so real to me, real enough to leave me here crying like a baby after finishing up this chapter. If you want to learn more about the real Matthew Shepard, here's a link to his foundation: http://www.matthewshepard.org/