Gap Year - 24. Chapter 24

February 10, 2004

New York, NY

 

Will

I sat at the small high-topped table with Chris, scanning the club, checking out all the hot guys. The last club he’d taken us to had been pretty nice, while this one was a lot more divey. Instead of slick tile, glass, and stainless steel, there were worn wood floors, wooden chairs, and a mediocre sound system. There was a door in the back that guys vanished into, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that was a place to go fuck.

I glanced sideways at Chris to watch him scan without making eye contact, showing himself to be the bar pro that he was. I’d had a great time with him. We’d toured around New York, where he showed me things a typical visitor wouldn’t see; we’d had dinner, gone to a couple of bars, then stopped by the Marquee club. I felt bad, because he’d sounded pretty excited to hang with the celebrity crowd, but it had been totally lame, so we bailed. He was the kind of guy who was fun to hang out with, and would probably be a good fuck, but there was no real connection between us. Once he figured out that I’d figured that out, he’d been much more relaxed around me.

My eyes locked onto a god about four tables away from us. This guy was blond and had nice blue eyes, looking like a stereotypical German. He was wearing a button-down shirt with no tie, and had a Rolex watch, although from this distance it was hard to tell if it was fake. He looked at me, locked on my eyes for a few seconds, then looked away with almost disdain, a pretty obvious sign of rejection. Whatever. “Kris Schulenberg,” Chris said. It didn’t bother me that the dude looked away, but it did bother me that Chris had seen it. “Only he spells his name with a K.”

“Whatever,” I said, to put the blond god out of our minds.

“He’s an investment banker on the street, works for Goldfarb, thinks he’s the shit,” Chris said.

I laughed. “Then he’s a complete dumbfuck for blowing me off.”

“He may change his mind,” he said. “He works it a little differently than most guys.”

“You ever fuck him?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “We’re both tops.”

“Once again, it’s too bad you’re not versatile,” I said, giving him shit. “So how’s he different?”

“He’ll hang out here until he’s bored, then he’ll pick a guy to hook up with,” he said.

“So no quick decisions for him,” I mused.

“Nope,” Chris said.

“Well that’s too bad, because I already made the call on him,” I said arrogantly, ignoring the fact that he may be able to change my mind. I continued to scan the bar until I saw someone familiar. “Isn’t that the dude my father fucked?”

“Dustin,” Chris said with a chuckle. He was 5’9”, with blond hair, and pale blue eyes that obliquely scanned the bar, as if he were completely disinterested in what he was seeing. He looked like a college dude dressed in club clothes, and he definitely had the cutest bubble butt at this bar. We briefly made eye contact, but not long enough to make a commitment.

“You fuck him?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Tried. He’s not into me,” Chris said.

“What the fuck?” I asked. “He’s probably done about half the city, but not you?”

“He’s a little pickier than that,” Chris said defensively. “You never run into a hot guy that you didn’t want to fuck?”

“Not unless he was a total asshole,” I said honestly.

“Whatever,” he said. “Like you could do any better.” He was stating that if he’d failed to fuck Dustin, there was no way I was going to nail him. His ego was annoying at times.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal,” I said, my mind whirling.

“What’s this deal?” he asked skeptically.

“If I can get him to let me fuck him, then you have to fuck me,” I said.

“Dude,” he said, in a way that meant ‘no way’.

“You have that much confidence in my abilities, or are you just being a pussy?” I taunted. He sat there for a few seconds, thinking about it, then held out his hand.

“Deal,” he said, and I shook it. I went to the bathroom to pee and to check my appearance, then strolled by the table and winked at Chris. He rolled his eyes at me, but I was on a mission. Dustin was with a group of guys, probably his friends, facing away from me, which gave me a great view of his ass. He knew his game and had worn pants that hugged it enough to show off how incredible it was, but not so tight so they looked ridiculously slutty. One of his friends was staring at my approach enough to cause him to turn around just as I got to him.

“Hey,” I said casually.

“S’up,” he replied. His nasal high school/college boy accent made me immediately slip into the same tone. “You look familiar.”

“I’ve been around, but we’ve never met,” I said. “I’m Will.”

“Dustin,” he said, still eyeballing me.

“I know,” I said, and smiled in a self-satisfied way.

“Oh yeah? What else do you know about me? You been stalking me?” he asked, kind of annoyed.

“Right,” I said, rolling my eyes, as if he was beneath my effort to follow him around. “I hear things.”

“What things?” he asked, getting a little more playful. I was so close to nailing this dude I could feel it.

“Rumors,” I said evasively. I reached up and fondled his necklace, letting my hands brush against his skin.

“Tell me about these rumors,” he demanded, moving a little closer to me.

I leaned in so my mouth was next to his ear, making sure he could feel my lips against his lobe. “I hear that you’re one amazing bottom, and that you like big dicks.”

“You think I’m a size queen?” he challenged, backing away just a bit.

“Just telling you what I hear,” I said.

“And you’re trying to tell me you’re hung,” he said, as if I had a micro penis.

“That’s what I’m telling you,” I said confidently.

“I do like guys with big cocks, but I like older dudes who can last more than 30 seconds,” he said in a smarmy way.

“Dude, I can control my body,” I insisted. “I can last as long as you can.” I wasn’t sure if that was true, but I seemed to time my orgasms pretty well.

“Sure you can,” he said.

“Look, I’m not going to beg you to let me fuck you. There are other dudes here that are hot, but I think we could have a good time,” I said. I stared at him for three seconds, then turned to walk away.

I felt him grab my arm to stop me. “Come on,” he said, and led me to the backroom area. I managed to look back at Chris and give him a snarky look.

As we walked through the room, guys were ogling him, and started to follow us. “Dude, what’s with all these dudes chasing you?” I asked.

He smiled back at me. “They like to watch me get fucked, and I like it when they watch me.” I probably should have been freaked out about people taking pictures of me, but he seemed really into it, so I decided not to worry about it.

“I can work with that,” I said, hoping my tone sounded as cocky as I tried to make it. We got to a corner that was like an open alcove with a curved couch thing covered in what was probably brown vinyl and was also probably pretty nasty. He stopped and turned to me, and from the look in his eyes, I could tell that he wanted me to be aggressive, so I grabbed him and really clamped down on his mouth, dominating him with my lips. I mentally noted how my lessons from Jeff Grimes on how to fuck a guy had been one of the most useful things I’d learned.

He finally pulled away and started taking off his clothes until he was stark naked. There had to be at least 10 guys staring at him. He sat on the nasty couch and licked his lips, so I whipped out my dick and let him go to town. The whole thing made me think I was in a porno, so I went with that theme. I almost laughed as I pushed him back on the couch, sucked on his dick for a bit, then dove in and started rimming him. I grabbed a couple of lube packets out of my pocket, along with a condom, and worked the first packet into his ass. “Fuck me,” he moaned.

I stood up and made him put the condom on, then pressed my hard dick against his hole, gently pushing until I popped through his ring. I went slow, letting him get used to me, but this dude was a pro. I decided that since this really was like a porno, I’d have fun with it, so I fucked him in all kinds of different positions, the whole time with him naked and me fully dressed with just my dick out. I was finally pounding him while he was on his back, watching as he frantically stroked his dick. “Gonna cum!” he shouted, more for the crowd then for me. He blasted his load all over his chest, which I took as my cue to pull out and rip off my condom, then I stroked my dick for less than ten seconds before I added my load to his.

“Fuck,” I said, like that was the best sex I’d ever had. It wasn’t bad, and the porno analogy had made it hotter, but it was a good release and no more. I almost giggled, thinking that I needed to play to my audience. There was a handsome older dude, probably in his mid-thirties, staring at Dustin with a crazed look on his face even as he stroked his own cock. “Lick it off of him,” I ordered. He looked shocked, then smiled, and began to slurp our cum off Dustin. Dustin looked mildly annoyed that I’d given this dude permission to suck on his chest, but it was all part of the show.

He got dressed and I started walking him back out to the bar. “You were fun,” he said. I leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss.

“Told you,” I said, taunting him. He shook his head at me.

“You with Chris?” he asked.

I shrugged. “He’s a friend.” It was weird that he asked about Chris yet he wouldn’t fuck him. “You ever fuck him?”

“No,” he said, but it could have been ‘as if’.

“Why not? He’s supposed to be an amazing top?” I asked.

“He’s not my type,” he said, trying to shut me down.

“Dude, he’s a great top, he’s hot, what’s not to like?” I asked.

“I just don’t like him,” he said, getting bitchy and turned to stare at me, leaving us standing in the middle of this nasty backroom. “Look, I don’t like Mexicans.”

I just stared at him, blinking, my mind roiled by his statement. “He’s Puerto Rican,” I said lamely.

“Latinos, Hispanics,” he said, as if there were no difference between Chileans, Puerto Ricans, Mexicans, and Cubans. “They smell nasty. I think it’s that spicy food they eat.” He seemed to think that was funny, but my mind finally cleared enough to let me get really pissed off.

“So how many Latinos have you been with?” I demanded.

“Fuck you,” he said, and made to walk away. I grabbed his arm and held him there, while he just glowered at me.

“Three,” he said. “That was three too many.”

“There’s like hundreds of millions of Latino men, and you sleep with three and decide they all smell bad?” I asked, my voice way too loud.

“It’s just a personal preference thing,” he said, almost spitting it out.

“No, it’s you being a fucking racist piece of shit,” I said, shouting now. I reached up, grabbed his necklace, and ripped it off his neck, then dropped it on the spooge-covered floor.

“Fuck you!” he said.

“No thanks,” I said. “It wasn’t that good.” I spun him aside and stormed out of the backroom. I was in a really dangerous mood, one where I was so mad, so incredibly pissed off I was an inch away from being violent. Chris was sitting with that Kris dude and looked at me with a taunting expression, then got freaked out when he saw how fired up I was.

“Hey,” he said, standing up as I got to the table.

“I’m out of here,” I said.

“Stay awhile,” Kris said smoothly, and grabbed my arm to stop me. It was all I could do not to jack him hard. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

I stared down where his hand was holding my arm and spotted his watch “Your Rolex is a fake,” I pronounced, then ripped my arm out of his grip and stormed out of the bar. The car wasn’t there so I started walking, going really fast, heading in a total random direction. I went straight on whatever the fuck street this was, trying to walk fast to let some of the anger go. I thought about it, and that was probably the first time I’d come face to face with racism from a white guy, where I was completely involved and not just an observer. It was disgusting and reprehensible. I knew enough about white privilege to know how skewed things were, so seeing this white dude, on his pillar of entitlement, make a blanket condemnation of Latino men just set me free. I was also aware that beneath that anger was sheer revulsion that I’d fucked this dude. I felt dirty, completely unclean, and had no idea how to get rid of the film of filth this dude had put on me. I’d probably made it five blocks before the car pulled up next to me.

Chris rolled down the window. “You want a ride?”

“Fuck you,” I said, still so mad.

“Well to do that, you have to get in the car,” he said, being a little playful. That worked to mellow me out a bit.

“Fine,” I said, and walked over to the other side of the car and got in. As if to make my mood even worse, the driver I didn’t like had taken over while I’d been in the bar. “To the hotel,” I snapped, then put up the privacy screen.

“You don’t like him,” Chris said flatly, which was funny enough to make me smile.

“I don’t,” I said. Before I could explain about what a douche the driver was, my phone rang, and I saw from the caller-ID that it was my father. “Goddamit!” I said loudly.

“Who is it?”

“My father,” I growled. It stopped ringing, then he called me back, so I answered it. “Is there an emergency?”

“No,” he said nervously, because he’d heard the extreme anger in my voice.

“Then I need you to leave me the fuck alone,” I snarled, and ended the call. I’d probably pay for that later, but right now I did not need to talk to him. “He’ll probably call you now,” I said to Chris.

“Probably,” he answered. “That’s why I turned off my ringer.” I grinned a bit, then just sat there fuming for the rest of the ride. He wisely said nothing to me.

As we pulled up to the hotel, the driver called. “Will you need the car anymore?” Even with a simple question like that, he managed to shoot attitude at me.

“No,” I said tersely, and hung up. We pulled up to the hotel, the car stopped, and I jumped out and headed to the door, desperate to get to the safety of my room. The elevator opened as soon as I hit the button, and I was nice enough to hold the door open for Chris, who was moving slower than I was. It seemed to take forever to get to our floor, then through the main room and into the bedroom Stef and Grand had lent Chris. I went in and sat on the bed, while he shut and locked the door, then came over and sat next to me.

He put his arm around me and pulled me close to his side in a caring way. “You wanna tell me what happened to piss you off? I’m guessing Dustin wouldn’t let you fuck him.” He said that last part jokingly.

His attempt at humor fell flat, which he got as soon as I glared at him. “No, I fucked him, and ended up putting on a show for the whole fucking backroom.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “So what pissed you off?”

“He started asking me about you, and I asked him why he’d never let you fuck him,” I said. He hadn’t been expecting that, so he stared at me intently. “He told me that he didn’t hook up with Latino men because they smell bad. Said it’s all the spicy food they eat,” I spat. As I uttered those words, I saw his expression change underneath his stoic façade, and could see how much this bothered him. I’d been so focused on my own reaction, I’d totally failed to think about how this would affect him. “I’m sorry,” I said, mellowing out enough to show I genuinely cared, even as I side-ways hugged him.

“That’s a bunch of shit,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I wasn’t real nice about it. I called him a racist piece of shit, ripped off his necklace and dropped it into a puddle of cum,” I said, exaggerating about the puddle of cum.

“I was kind of worried it was something like that,” he said, letting his shields down. “I hit on him a bunch of times and thought that maybe he’d ultimately give me a try.”

“He’s a fucking idiot,” I said. “I feel so gross, like I stuck my dick in a pile of shit.”

“You kind of did,” he said. “Take a shower.”

I pushed him back so he was lying down, although he propped himself up with his elbows. I undid his belt, then his pants, and then nuzzled my nose into his underwear. “He was also wrong,” I said. He had a masculine, musky smell that was hella erotic.

“Sure,” he said skeptically.

“Dude, I’m serious,” I said, and kept inhaling him. He finally got up, kind of pushing me off, then smiled.

“Still, I think I could do a shower.” We took a shower together, then got out and fucked. It was fun, and it was nice, but there was something missing. As I was falling asleep, I realized it was the emotional connection, and that made me think of Patrick.

 

February 11, 2004

New York, NY

 

Will

Even though it was pretty early, I was pleased with the image the mirror threw back at me. I was wearing a Patrick Christian suit, with all my accessories picked by Stefan. The suit was a lighter gray that didn’t work all that well with my features, so he’d picked out a black shirt with a matching black tie, which had a cool effect of almost making it difficult to pick out the tie. Then he’d given me a tie pin that had a big fucking diamond in it. It was kind of subtle and kind of blingy, but with my dark hair and green eyes, it seemed to work. “You look amazing,” Chris said as he breezed by me with everything but his tie on. We were both still a little giddy from our morning fuck. It was really good, but still missing something.

“Why thank you,” I said, then gave him some shit. “You look slutty since you’re wearing the same clothes you wore yesterday.”

“I am slutty,” he said with a growl as he gently gnawed on my neck.

“I’m glad,” I said. I walked out into the sitting area to find Grand, Stef, and Tom sitting there. The room service I ordered was on the side table. “Morning,” I said cheerfully. “Food if you want it.” I pulled the covers off the trays and started making myself a plate of food.

“Is Chris already gone?” Stef asked, acting like a sleuth.

“He’s still getting ready,” I said casually, which got raised eyebrows, from both Stef and Grand.

“It sounds like you had an eventful night last night,” Grand noted. It was funny when my drama sparked him to probe.

“It had some good points and some bad points,” I said. I looked at my watch and got a little flustered, since that reminded me that I’d been a dick to that dude last night. “Here’s the quick version: I fucked Dustin, that twink Dad was with a few times, and found out he’s a racist piece of shit. That pissed me off enough that I was rude to this other dude, and now I have to call and apologize. And then Dad decided to call me and I was rude to him. And Chris fucked me.”

“You were busy,” Tom said, chuckling.

“Very busy,” I said, winking at him as I stood up.

The door to the bedroom opened up and Chris came strolling out. No one commented on the fact that he was dressed in the same clothes as yesterday. “Mornin’,” he said, in his New York way. They all exchanged greetings, then Chris grabbed some food and sat next to me. I ignored the others, even though I could almost feel their snickers.

“Do you have K-Kris’s number?” I asked. It took him a second to realize who I was talking about. “I think about him as Chris with a K, so I decided to name him K-Kris.”

“You could add another K to that and use that one for Dustin,” he growled, showing how much that whole thing had bothered him.

“No shit,” I agreed.

“You going to call him?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“Who?” I asked, just to bug him by acting like an idiot.

“K-Kris,” he said, frustrated, then annoyed when I smirked at him to show him I was messing with him.

“I am, because I was a total dick to him, and I want to apologize,” I said. Grand, Stef, and Tom were listening to this conversation intently, albeit with a great deal of confusion.

“How’d you know his Rolex was fake?” Chris asked, even as he scrolled through his contacts.

“You can tell by the crystal,” I said. “A real Rolex has a crystal that makes the date number look a lot bigger. A fake one doesn’t have that.”

“That is correct,” Stef said, both to validate my statement and to remind us we were having this conversation in front of them.

“I suppose you have ten of them,” Chris said snidely, even as he wrote down Kris’s number for me.

“I don’t even have one of them,” I said. “They’re not the greatest watches, but some people like them when they’re peacocking.”

“So no one in your family has a Rolex?” he asked, stunned.

I looked at Stef, who answered for me. “I think that Brad has one, but he inherited it from Robbie. Robbie did not mind gaudy watches.” It had been pretty easy to tell that Stef thought that Robbie had sometimes been gauche, but it was always interesting when he actually confirmed it.

“Learn something new every day,” Chris said, then strode confidently out of the hotel room.

I looked at my watch purposely. “I need to go too.” Hopefully that would let me put off the conversation about the details of my night at least until later, but I was to be outsmarted.

“Do you mind if I accompany you?” Stef asked. Like I could say no.

“That would be awesome,” I said enthusiastically, making the best of the situation. “I love hanging out with you, but it’s even better here, because then I seem cooler.”

“I think, rather, that it is I who seem cooler because I am with you,” he said in a courtly way.

“Then let us flatter our way over to Bryan Park,” I said, making him laugh. We kept that mood and made our conversation fun even when the topic was not.

“I got a call from your father last night. He was worried about you,” Stef said, showing he was annoyed by my father.

“He wasn’t worried about me,” I said, shaking my head. “He just heard I was hanging out with Chris and he wanted to know if I fucked him.”

Stef laughed. “I think that is what constitutes ‘worry’ in his mind.”

“I have a plan,” I said.

“I am most anxious to hear it,” he said. “I’m going to tell him that he can only call me after 11 at night and before 10 in the morning if it’s an emergency,” I said.

Stef pondered that. “If he adheres to those guidelines, he would probably avoid getting his feelings hurt.”

“If,” I said meaningfully, because it was hard to get my father to do things he didn’t want to do.

“So how was Chris?” Stef asked. Which cracked me up, because that’s what he really wanted to hear. I laughed, then got serious.

“He was really good, but it was weird,” I said.

“Can you explain that?” Stef asked.

“He knew all the moves, did everything right, but there just wasn’t the passion that makes sex fun.”

“And you did not like that?” he asked in surprise.

I sighed. “You know how you’re with someone you like, especially when it’s your first time with him, and there’s this urgency that makes things a little awkward, and there’s always a bit of fumbling? That wasn’t there.”

“You make it sound like you had sex with a robot,” Stef said, smiling. Then pondered my words. “I understand what you are saying. The connection is entirely physical.”

“It wasn’t that bad. In fact, it was good,” I said. “It was just a little sterile.”

“Evidently you are not as good at shallow sex as your father,” Stef joked.

“Evidently,” I said in between bouts of laughter.