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    Mrsgnomie
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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.
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Dichotomy of Love - 9. Part One. Chapter Nine.

When Jessica asked if he wanted to get ready together, Kyan thought she was joking. He didn’t realize it was a ‘thing’ until Perry and Jessica came out of his house together. Kyan’s jaw dropped. She wore tight jeans and a sequined top. Her long, straight black hair was curled and in a loose, updo-type thing.

There were moments like this where he was caught off guard by the similarities between her and his last wife.

It was hard to comprehend how incredibly insane genetics were. However, he shouldn’t have been surprised. His own kids were factory resets. Ctrl+C+P

Kyan looked for his brother-in-law, who strolled behind Jessica. He’d taken Perry’s concerns about how he might react seriously. After spending an hour Googling ‘gay club attire’, Kyan was prepared for whatever Perry was about to hit him with. The man could come out of the house wearing a leather harness or fishnet stockings, and Kyan wouldn’t flinch.

Excitement simmered under his skin. Kyan wanted to see this side of his friend — to peel another layer back.

It was late November, and a dark, cloud-covered night. The moon was barely a sliver. He couldn’t see much at first, but when Perry reached the Pilot clad in sweats and a zip-up hoodie, hair slicked back instead of under a cap, Kyan bristled.

“Much ado about nothing,” he mumbled as Perry crawled into the backseat.

“What was that?”

Kyan huffed. “I thought you’d be wearing something more … clubby.”

Perry laughed. “Well, I’m not wearing the jacket in the club if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried. I just want to see the real Perry. I want to see what the fuss is all about.”

Jessica, who had claimed the front seat, patted his thigh. “Stop.”

Kyan’s stomach dropped. He looked at Perry through the rearview mirror with wide, apologetic eyes. “I don’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to do whatever you normally do.”

“It’s fine, Ky.”

“I want you to feel comfortable.”

As he buckled himself in, Perry smiled as though he was keeping a secret.

Then they were off.

****

Parking in downtown Portland was complete shit. Kyan circled the block a few times. With Perry’s help, he found a gravel parking lot with more potholes than rocks, but it was only five dollars for the evening.

He and Jessica got out. The wind was sharp and relentless as they stood there. Jessica briskly rubbed her arms and glanced back at the SUV. “C’mon, Perry!” she shouted. “Hurry it up.”

The back door opened.

After the initial shock, Kyan carefully schooled his features. It wasn’t a leather harness that Perry sported, but rather a pair of shorts, which had been hidden by the sweats. They were, well, short—and tight, like super-painted-on-hiding-nothing tight, as was his tank top. On his feet were platform Doc Martens. It was interesting how Perry’s all-black outfit, as scantily clad as it was, was surprisingly masculine.

Kyan had to remind himself to breathe. He had little going-out experience, but even he knew his brother-in-law would get devoured.

For Christ’s sake. Perry’s legs. How did Kyan tell him they looked fucking great without it coming out weird? That they looked long and muscular and the shorts made his ass look bubbly and round?

Then there was his upper body. The tight material accentuated the labor he did at his job and the time he put in at the gym.

Kyan blinked, then looked down at the khakis and Volcom polo he’d had since high school. “Maybe I should’ve taken you up on the offer to get ready together. I’m underdressed, I think.”

Jessica laughed and started toward the worn brick building covered in graffiti. Her stiletto heels wobbled as she carefully tipped across the loose gravel. “Or overdressed, depending on how you look at it.”

Kyan offered his arm. “How was I supposed to know how to dress?” he grumbled. “It’s not like I’ve ever been to a club before.” And the stuff he found online was not an option.

“Never ever?”

He shook his head. “Dayna found out she was pregnant when we were seventeen. I could be wrong, but I don’t think nightclubs have drop-in daycare.”

“That’s what grandparents are for.”

Kyan cringed. Even when Dayna was alive, he felt awkward asking them to watch the kids. And to go clubbing? No way. Especially when the kids were so little and not nearly as independent as they are now.

“They would have said yes,” Perry said, as if reading his mind.

Sure, but only because Kyan made a point not to rely on them too much. They never had a chance to feel worn out. Kyan didn’t want his kids to become a chore to anyone.

But they weren’t there to debate daycare. It was game time and Kyan was pumped to get the party started. As they neared, the air around the club vibrated like the beginning of a Seahawks game. Even outside, the music made his brain shake. And there we go — the line of men waiting to get in were dressed a lot more like the images he’d found on Google. He even spotted a harness or two.

It was going to be a crazy night.

“Well—” Jessica nudged him forward. “Let's get in line. I don’t want to stand outside all night. It’s fucking freezing, and this top is not helping.”

“Make sure you have your ID ready.”

When they got to the door, the guy barely glanced at his license but was quick to collect the cover charge.

Thirty dollars?” Per person.

Perry chuckled as he opened his wallet. “Fun don’t come cheap.”

“Are the drinks free, at least?” Kyan asked as they entered the noisy club. He immediately stumbled backwards, slamming into Perry’s chest. “Oh, my god.” He shielded his eyes from the onslaught of bright, multicolored lasers.

Perry grabbed his shoulders and steered him to the bar. “You’ll adjust.”

He wasn’t so sure. It was fucking loud, and the lights were annoying. You could barely move without bumping into someone.

Kyan scanned the bar menu. The drinks were not free. He kept looking, hoping to find some sort of discount. You know, a buy three, get the fourth free type thing. No dice. He frowned. “Maybe I'll just have water.”

Perry ignored him and ordered a slew of drinks. When they were ready, he lifted a filled tray above his head and started walking it across the bar. Kyan glanced around. Weren’t there servers to help?

Nope.

Kyan rushed to follow Jessica and Perry to the small table Max had saved. As he did so, he noticed that the tray caused Perry’s tank tee to creep up, revealing little dimples on his lower back that Kyan had not noticed before. At the table, Perry’s arms flexed as he passed around shot glasses, and his skin shimmered under the club lights.

Kyan could not put his finger on what was different, but there was definitely more to Perry’s club attire than he saw at first glance. He wasn’t screaming for attention like some of the other guys in their bright, barely-there outfits. Perry’s look was understated by comparison, but captivating nonetheless.

“These look good,” Max raved as he held up a whipped cream-topped shot glass. He smiled suggestively at Perry and added, “Nothing better than a good blowjob, amiright?”

Kyan shook his head at the blatant innuendo, then inspected his own glass, blurting, “I don’t even know what a blowjob is.”

“Poor thing.” Max sighed and patted Kyan’s shoulder sympathetically. “A blowjob is when someone puts their lips around your—”

Kyan covered his friend’s mouth before he could continue. “I meant the drink.”

Perry leaned in and grinned wolfishly, pinning Kyan with smoldering green eyes rimmed in black eyeliner as Kyan downed his shot. “Blowjobs are really good. Trust me.”

Kyan sputtered his drink, and everyone laughed. Despite half of it going down his shirt, it tasted good. Not too strong and quite pleasant. He could definitely knock back another one. Unfortunately, the second shot would not be as easy. The smell alone made Kyan’s eyes water.

Perry grabbed a lime wedge from the tray, then licked the back of his hand and sprinkled salt on it.

“Whoa whoa whoa.” Max took the salt and lime away from Perry like he might use it to catch the place on fire. “That is not how it’s done, and you know it.” He bent his own head to the side, sprinkled salt on the slightly damp curve of his neck, then gave the lime back.

Perry’s eyes gleamed as he gripped the back of Max’s neck and leaned in. Then Kyan’s eyes bulged as Perry quickly licked the salt straight off his friend’s neck, then downed the shot and bit into the lime. When it was done, Perry's face pinched and he shook his head. “Hot damn!”

“My turn!” Max grabbed the salt and sprinkled it on Perry’s neck. He then rested his hands on Perry’s shoulders and balanced on the tips of his toes to take his time licking every speck of salt off Perry’s body.

Kyan looked away.

“I’m not licking anything off you,” Jessica said to Kyan without taking her eyes off Max’s sex show.

“Gross.”

Jessica laughed. “And you’re not licking anything off me, either.”

The thought of his lips against Jessica’s neck made him shudder.

“Let’s take our shots like normal people?” Kyan shouted as he arranged everything they needed on the small table.

It burned going down. Zero out of ten. Would not recommend.

Kyan tried to remember the last time he had tequila. Maybe at the sports bar in Las Vegas? If it never touched his lips again, it would be too soon. Lucky for him, they were done with shots. The third drink was something to sip on.

As Perry handed out the final drinks, Kyan’s eyes again locked on the muscle bulge. No one’s skin should look so good.

Someone cleared their throat. Kyan blinked and found Perry watching him. And wow, his eyes looked amazing. The eyeliner and slightly sparkly shadow made his green eyes pop like liquid gemstones.

Jessica nudged him in the ribs. “Stop staring,” she hissed.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t staring—” Except he was totally staring. It wasn’t a big deal, except when he looked at Perry, he could tell it was a big deal to him.

Kyan shot out of his seat and put his hands on Perry’s shoulders. “I wasn’t judging you, I promise! You look great. You’re wearing makeup. I was staring at your eyes because they look amazing… and you’re so freaking tan! In November? I don’t get it but I’m not judging. I’m admiring. So don’t freak out. No bad thoughts.”

Some tension left Perry’s shoulders, but it wasn’t good enough for Kyan, so he grabbed Perry’s wrists and lifted his arms to get a better look. “You look fucking great. Okay?”

“Okaaaay,” Jessica interrupted. “Unless you’re going to compliment everyone, I think that’s enough. We’re here to dance, not to advertise the Perry fan club. God knows his ego needs no help, not with those legs. And it’s call tanning lotion. Your pasty ass should look it up.”

“You look great, too,” Kyan complimented. “The top is, wow.”

She sat up straighter and grinned. “I know.”

“What about me?” Max said. He wiggled his shoulders and fluffed his hair.

That’s when Kyan really noticed Max. He looked at his coiffed hair, shimmering cheeks, and translucent top that showed off his ripped physique. He looked great. Spectacular even.

It made him feel like even more of a frump.

Kyan threw his hands in the air. “Everyone is going to be eaten alive but me because I’m dressed like a Mormon teenager at his first dance.”

Jessica laughed. “I asked if you wanted to get ready together.”

“Speaking of dancing—” Max pulled Perry against his body, licked any remaining salt from his collarbone in one long stroke, then dragged him to the dance floor.

Kyan stayed at the table with Jessica and watched the bodies pulse to the endless electronica beat of hit remixes. It was mesmerizing. Half the room grinded like they were being paid-per-view.

When Dayna was alive, at every wedding they attended, she would light up when the dance music began and pull Kyan onto the dance floor. He tried. He really did. He loved dancing with his wife, but he could never seem to move the way others could. There was nothing suave about him. The harder Kyan tried, the more he moved like the tin man from The Wizard of Oz.

Dayna said it was ‘cute’, but now that Kyan thought about it, she never made him dance for very long. She would let him go back to their table while she kept dancing with her friends. Maybe she didn’t think it was so cute after all. He didn’t blame her.

One day a new girl would enter his life and she’d want to dance. The thought of a new girl to love and be loved by should have been thrilling, but he felt no appeal.

Jessica leaned in, disrupting his disturbing thoughts, and pointed to Max and Perry. “Aren’t they cute together?”

Kyan’s eyes wandered until he found them in the undulating crowd. Perry’s arms were above his head and his eyes were closed as he lost himself in the music. Max danced against him. Physically speaking, they could not be any closer. They complimented each other.

“Super cute.”

The club was overflowing with men and it was hard ‌to figure out who was dancing with whom. Max and Perry grooving together didn’t seem to discourage other men from groping and humping them, and yet no one seemed to mind.

Kyan wondered what it was like to be gay, to dance like that with another guy. Were they concerned about being turned on? He always hid it, never wanting to make the girl uncomfortable. He didn’t think that was a problem here; the opposite, really. It looked like getting turned on and showing it was absolutely the whole point.

Maybe that’s why Max was smiling.

“Do you think Perry is interested in Max?” he asked out of the blue. “Relationship-wise?”

Jessica studied Kyan. The scrutiny made him uncomfortable, and he fidgeted with his drink straw.

“I think he could be,” she said after a minute. “Max is awesome. I think Perry would be very lucky.”

“I agree.”

“Do you?”

“Of course I do. I’m the one who orchestrated their introduction.”

“You were kind of snarling at them a second ago.”

“What?” He laughed and took a sip of his drink. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you were.”

“No. I was thinking about how dancing is a mating ritual thing, and I suck at it. One day I’ll have to do it again. Some girl will want to dance, and I’m going to embarrass myself. So basically, I’ll probably never date again.”

Jessica laughed so hard, she had to set her drink down. She had seen him dance. She knew it was true.

Perry and Max were glowing when they came off the dance floor. Max’s finger was hooked in a loop of Perry’s short shorts, anchoring himself like a barnacle to a boat. Perry plopped on the chair next to Kyan and Max sat on Perry’s lap.

Jessica was still laughing. “Ohmygod. You guys missed it. Kyan just realized that if he’s ever going to date again, he’s gonna have to dance. You should have seen his face. Pure panic.”

Perry’s face lit up. He also knew Kyan lacked that particular skill set.

Max wrapped his arm around Perry’s neck and took a long sip of his drink. “You don’t like dancing?”

“Oh, he likes dancing—” Perry answered with a mischievous grin.

“I wouldn’t say I like dancing, hmpf—”

Perry must’ve dumped Max because he grabbed Kyan’s hand and hauled him through the crowd into the middle of the packed dance floor.

Kyan stumbled, tripping over feet and legs and god knows what. He grabbed Perry’s arm for support. “What the hell?”

Perry only grinned and started dancing. Kyan stood and watched. He didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t the kind of dancing he was used to. Perry was all free and easy with a big smile and sparkling eyes. He nudged Kyan’s hip with his own. “C’mon. It’s fun.”

“I don’t think—” Kyan tentatively moved his hips, trying it on for size, but his movements felt stilted. He probably looked like an idiot. “Nope. Not fun.”

Perry stepped closer, so their bodies were touching, and lifted Kyan’s arms, flopping them around like Geppetto making Pinocchio dance.

Kyan narrowed his eyes. “Is this your idea of a game?”

Perry laughed, but kept dancing, using his body to move Kyan. His smile made the highlighter on his cheeks shimmer under the lights and Kyan wondered if makeup was part of the deal when you got ready with Jessica.

Some guys exude sex appeal. Kyan wasn’t one of those guys, but Perry was. His best friend didn’t have a big, attention-grabbing personality—in many ways, he was unassuming—but he was very handsome. It was the tall frame, the lean but muscular build, the shaggy dark hair, the striking green eyes that never felt intimidating. It didn’t matter if Perry wore ripped work jeans or a tuxedo … or tight shorts, a cut-off shirt that clung to his body and the most stunning makeup he’d ever seen on a man. Perry had that thing about him.

A subtle magnetism.

Kyan’s body flushed. He looked down and laughed.

One of Perry’s perfect eyebrows raised. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“No, it’s stupid.”

Perry leaned forward, deeper into Kyan’s space. “Spill it,” he growled.

Kyan stepped back and held his arms out. “Look at me.” He was standing in the middle of the pulsing dance floor, feeling every bit the club virgin.

Perry’s gaze took in every inch of Kyan before looking him square in the eyes. “And?”

“C’mon. I’m twenty-five, but I might as well be fifty-five. I look like an idiot. I wore khakis and a polo to a dance club. Both of which are from high school.”

“Some guys dig the early aughts skater vibe.”

Kyan laughed because, one, he had not skated since high school; and two, the thought of his milkshake bringing all the boys to the yard was too much. Before he could launch a rebuttal, Jessica bumped into him, pushing him out of the way and allowing Max to sidle up to Perry.

Max pressed his back to Perry’s chest, looped an arm up around Perry’s neck, and then winked at Kyan.

“Smooth,” Kyan mouthed.

With Perry distracted, Kyan stopped trying to dance and swayed to the music instead. He thought he was being sneaky, but Perry caught his gaze and shook his head.

He’d just been silently scolded, but what was Perry going to do about it when Max had his ass glued to Perry’s crotch? Nothing, that’s what.

Kyan stayed and swayed like an idiot with his sister-in-law. Everyone around him was grinding and making out. There were shirtless guys, but his Google searches made it seem like it would be a real sausage fest. In actuality, although there were a lot of men, it was exactly what he’d expect from any nightclub.

Except … he noticed the back of the club, where dark semi-sheer curtains hid the space beyond. A steady stream of men in various stages of undress came and went through those curtains.

He might be naive, but no way in hell would he be venturing that way alone.

Kyan’s gaze returned to Perry. He and Max were… intense to watch. They seemed to anticipate the other’s move. The sex would be good, Kyan surmised, if the dancing was any indication.

The thought sent his mind down a weird rabbit hole — the rabbit hole everyone experienced but was too chickenshit to admit, because the admission made you vulnerable to judgment and criticism from people who won’t accept that the mind is a freaky place.

Imagining Perry having sex similar to the way he was moving right now made Kyan’s hands clammy and his knees weak.

“Hey,” Jessica shouted. “I have to pee.”

“Thank God,” Max said. “Those drinks are going right through me.” He grabbed Jessica’s hand, then paused to put his other hand on Perry’s chest. “Do. Not. Move,” he said sternly. Then they were off, leaving Perry and Max alone on the dance floor. It was awkward all of the sudden, like they weren’t best friends, like they hadn’t danced earlier.

Without notice, someone squeezed Kyan’s ass. Both cheeks. He jumped forward into Perry’s arms. “Some just squeezed my ass!” he shrieked. Still clinging to Perry, he looked around to see if he could find the culprit, but there were a hundred people and not a single one was watching him.

Perry laughed. “That happens.”

“A lot?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, grinning at Kyan’s naiveté.

Kyan shouldn’t have been surprised. The club didn’t scream respect your neighbor. More like fuck your neighbor.

Perry wrapped a protective arm around him and began dancing. “It won’t do much,” he yelled above the music, “but it might help.”

Kyan believed him because Perry’s eyes said he had nothing to worry about. And for the next while, no one touched him.

Perry, amused, watched Kyan. “Having fun?”

“Yeah. It’s different than I expected.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I just know it’s different.” Then, because he was feeling ballsy, and the drinks had gone to his head, he added, “I’m totally boned up.”

Perry’s mouth fell open and he came to an abrupt standstill. “Uhh. I don’t think I heard you correctly. Can you repeat that?”

Kyan leaned into Perry’s ear, “It’s just a chub.”

Perry’s gaze shot to his crotch and a smile spread across his face. “Ookaayy, so I did hear you correctly.”

Kyan shrugged, then leaned closer still so their cheeks were touching. His lips brushed against Perry’s ear. Was it his imagination, or did Perry shiver? “There is a lot of sexual tension in this room. I mean, you and Max...” Kyan fanned himself.

Perry’s gaze bore straight into Kyan.

Kyan shrugged. “It’s hot.” He was on a roll; no point in stopping. If anything, Perry needed to know that he had no issues with any of this. Perry could be himself, always. “Hell, if I were gay, I’d be all over you. That outfit makes your legs look—” he gave a chef’s kiss. “Max is definitely gonna want to—”

Max appeared out of nowhere, sliding his arm around Perry’s waist and pulling him away from Kyan. “Max is gonna want to what?”

Kyan laughed. “Take Perry home.”

The blond bit his lip, then slid his hands up Perry’s chest and stood on tippy toes to wrap them around his neck.

“I need another drink,” Perry announced abruptly. He removed Max’s arms from his body. “Who wants another drink?”

He left before anyone answered, so they followed him. When they reached the bar, Perry had just finished ordering. Two shots each, which he immediately pounded when the bartender set them out.

“Okay,” Jessica said with an awkward chuckle. She grabbed her shots. “I guess we’re really getting this party started.”

Kyan agreed to only one of the shots because he was driving, and tequila was fucking disgusting.

“At least take it properly this time,” Max said. “Because you’re at a gay club and you know what they say: ‘When in Rome’!”

Kyan looked at Jessica. Her neck and shoulders were covered in sweat and loose hair strands. He shook his head and tried not to gag. “No way.”

Max threw his head back and laughed. “Spoken like a true patron. But no, I did not have Jess in mind.” He reached across the bar, grabbed the salt shaker, then pushed Perry’s head to the side and sprinkled salt on his neck. He held a lime wedge in one hand and a shot in the other. “Lick, drink, suck.”

Kyan didn’t blink. His heart hammered as he stared at the curve of Perry’s neck. “Are you sure?”

Perry smirked and tilted his head, exposing his neck even more. That was that. Kyan dragged a ragged breath into his lungs, then took the lime and the shot and stepped closer. He leaned forward, then slid his tongue along Perry’s skin. The salt was hard to get, so he made a second pass, lapping his tongue to get it all.

“Okay—” Jessica said, pulling him back. “Take the shot.”

He did, then damn near keeled over because the tequila was just as fucking gross as before.

“Perry’s turn!”

Kyan thought Max would be the salt lick, but instead, Perry gripped Kyan’s hair and tilted his head back, then sprinkled salt. The next thing he knew, Perry’s mouth was on the base of his neck. His entire body exploded as Perry’s lips latched onto the sensitive spot and sucked, twirling his tongue. Kyan’s eyes rolled back and he gripped Perry’s shoulders for stability.

When Perry let go, Kyan was dazed and stumbled backward.

Then they were back on the dance floor. Max immediately put his arms around Perry, sliding them into the back of his shorts, over his ass, and Kyan wondered if Perry wore underwear. He doubted it. There was no room.

Meanwhile, Jessica danced—from a respectable distance—as Kyan swayed.

Max looked Kyan up and down with a sparkle in his eye, then whispered something in Perry’s ear, making the dark-haired man laugh.

Kyan glared at his friends. “They’re making fun of my dancing.”

“We’re not making fun of your dancing!” Max yelled over the music. “It’s cute.”

Perry disentangled from Max’s arms and turned, so he was dancing with Kyan. He did that Geppetto thing again, making Kyan dance against his will.

Kyan laughed. “Stop it.”

Perry blinked at him with guileless eyes. “What?” Then he did it again, forcing Kyan to the beat of the music.

“You’re making me dance,” he whined.

Perry lifted Kyan’s arms above his head and shook them. “I’m not making you do anything.”

“Says the man who’s making me dance like those floppy-armed inflatables you see outside weed shops.”

Perry smiled softly. He closed his eyes and moved to the music like he didn’t have a care in the world. He looked relaxed and content and like he was in a yoga studio with soft melodies, not a club playing chaotic remixes and wild light shows. The minutes ticked by with the drumming beat of a seizure-inducing soundtrack. The Fray’s “You Found Me” was a strange pick, but the remix was surprisingly awesome. The original had been a favorite of his back in the day.

He tried not to notice, but Perry watched him, smiling now that Kyan finally found his groove. Maybe for the first time in his life.

Kyan rolled his eyes at the attention but kept dancing, swaying really, but he was getting into it. As a joke, he draped one arm over Perry’s shoulder, a PG version of what Max had done earlier. But Perry wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer.

It was fucking fun.

A popular song came on and the club blew up. The energy pulled Kyan into the moment. When the chorus hit, he let go of Perry and jumped up and down with everyone as they screamed the lyrics.

Max pounded his fist in the air to the beat. He and Jessica popped it, locked it, and dropped it along with most of the club. Max also danced against Perry’s back, pressing him against Kyan. The music changed—another remix. The beat slowed as Kyan and Perry stood toe-to-toe and nose-to-nose. They were sweaty. Their hair had fallen into their faces, brown strands lightly brushing against black. They were breathing heavily from all the dancing,

Perry moved against him, slow and smooth. That’s when he felt it. Kyan’s breath caught in his throat.

Perry was hard.

And so was he.

The realization sent a flood of dopamine through Kyan’s body that hit like a stampede of wild bulls. He could hardly breathe. The sudden arousal had him shaking, desperate to squeeze his aching crotch—to stave off the unfamiliar feeling.

Fuck.

He shifted his body so Perry wouldn’t figure out what was happening, but the beat picked up and Perry slid his thigh between Kyan’s legs.

Kyan gasped. Perry’s electric green gaze pinned him where he was.

Nervously, Kyan shrugged it off, giving Perry a cheeky grin like his own arousal was totally fucking normal. For some it might be, but it was a first for Kyan.

He reasoned with himself. It wasn’t totally uncharacteristic. They were in a club and the sexual energy was palatable. Perry, admittedly, radiated sex appeal. It was also the first time in three years he felt like this. He was high on all the pheromones permeating the air; it could happen to anyone. Yeah. That was it. Kyan also reasoned that he was with Perry, and Perry wouldn’t judge him. Perry was his safe space. Maybe later, when his brain cleared, they would have a good laugh while they processed it together. His friend would confirm it was a one-off. Maybe this happened to guys all the time.

With the shock fading a little, Kyan let himself go. It was the most fun he ever had dancing.

TI came on, and the club went wild. Max squeezed his way in, pulling Jessica with him, but Perry’s gaze remained locked on Kyan.

Max reached up for Perry’s neck and pulled him close as he yell-sang. “Late night sex, so wet and so tight. I gas up the jet for you tonight and baby you can go wherever you’d like.”

Just like that, the spell broke. Perry laughed, then shouted the next verse with the crowd.

Max kept singing to Perry. The man had money. Kyan hadn’t asked too many questions about it, but Max clearly wanted Perry to know. There was no hiding his meaning or his intention.

Perry was amused, but he didn’t take his eyes off Kyan. He tapped Kyan’s temple. “You never ever gotta go in your wallet. As long as I got rubber-band banks in my pocket.”

Kyan was about to laugh because it was a bizarre way to acknowledge the funky financial shit going on, but Jessica spun Kyan around and started dancing with him. When he looked back, Max had his arms around Perry’s neck again. An odd sensation fluttered in his gut.

They stayed like that until last call.

Max had his arm around Perry’s waist as they stumbled out of the club. Kyan didn’t think they’d snuck off into the back of the club, but it looked like maybe they did. Hair and makeup were no longer perfect and everyone was sweaty and huffing breathlessly as they moved toward the parking lot.

“Need a ride?” Kyan asked his friend. He had sobered up while the other three continued to do shots. “I might need to move a car seat, but I have room.”

Max looked adoringly at Perry as they walked, silently asking the question everyone could hear. But Perry was drunk, or oblivious. Either way, he didn’t respond.

Max looked at Kyan and shrugged. “Sure.”

They piled in. Halfway home, Kyan looked in the mirror. Max was snuggled up to Perry.

Kyan cleared his throat. “I need directions to your house.”

Max ignored Kyan and walked his fingers up Perry’s chest instead.

Kyan cleared his throat again, then blurted, “Hey Perry, umm, was I crashing at your house tonight? I can’t remember what the plan was.”

Inwardly, he cringed. Why did I ask that stupid question?

Perry gently removed Max’s hand from his chest. Maybe he wasn’t so drunk? “Yeah. We need to pick the kids up from the house in the morning because Mom and Dad invited everyone out to breakfast.”

“Not too early, I hope.”

“Nine, I think?”

Max looked between them, then slunk back into his own seat. Kyan felt a bit guilty as Max deflated in front of him. What is happening?

After Max gave directions, the rest of the ride was quiet. Kyan punched in the gate code and everyone watched as the iron bars moved far too slowly.

Max stole a furtive glance at Perry as he got out, like he was waiting for the man to change his mind.

He didn’t.

“I didn’t mean to ruin your plans,” Kyan told Perry as they watched Max safety enter his house, a brick mini-mansion with a manicured lawn and a circular driveway lined with more security cameras than Buckingham Palace. “If you want to stay with Max, I can pick you up in the morning… if I can get back in.”

“Nah. Max is cool, but I, um … I’m not interested in him like that.”

“Oh.” Kyan’s stomach swooped, and he found himself holding back a smile. “That’s too bad.”

Perry said nothing. Jessica turned in her seat and looked between the two men.

When they pulled up to his sister-in-law’s place, she opened her mouth, then shook her head. “See you in a few hours.”

Perry crawled between the front seats and plopped down. From the corner of his eye, Kyan watched as Perry adjusted his shorts, pulling the legs down from where they had ridden up. He felt that wild rush again. His body tingled. It felt far more pointed, more terrifying. And he didn’t have a club full of half-naked men grinding to a beat to justify his reaction.

The silence was deafening.

Perry unlocked his door, then dropped his keys on the entry table. “I’m going to shower if that’s cool.”

“Sure. It’s your house.”

Kyan’s heart thumped so hard it hurt his ribs. What the hell is happening? He shook his arms and stretched his neck from side to side as he undressed down to his underwear in Perry’s bedroom.

The shower shut off. Kyan kicked his lame-ass clothes across the floor and looked up.

Perry stared at him from the doorway in nothing but a towel. Droplets of water hung from the ends of his dark hair, dripping onto his shoulders and chest. A smattering of black hair disappeared beneath the towel.

Kyan’s dick twitched and his mouth went dry as he stared. What the ever-living hell?

Copyright © 2023 Mrsgnomie; 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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