Date: Fri, 16 May 2003 02:04:33 +0800 From: AntiIrony Subject: The Gentlemen's Club: Alden THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB Alden By and copyright Lady Poetess http://clik.to/there This story is entirely fictitious and bears no resemblance to anyone dead or alive. Any similarity is merely coincidental. ONE Justin Alden Wynn hated coming home precisely because he knew this was coming. By `this', he was referring to the pitying and condescending expression on his Uncle John's face. But he was out of places to run, and he had nowhere to go to but back to the only man whom Alden could rely on. John Schneider thought Alden was a jerk. He made that clear two years ago when nineteen-year old Alden decided to leave the farm to make something for himself. Their shouting match saw John saying some things that still cut Alden deep. He bit his lower lip, trying not to dwell on the past as he surveyed the farm. He never knew his parents -- they died when Alden was too young to remember. John was the only father figure he knew, although both of them never had an easy relationship. Damn, it still hurt when John called Alden's father -- John's stepbrother -- an irresponsible SOB and that Alden would turn out like his father if he didn't embrace responsibility of running the farm. Alden had thought he hated John, but now, with bitter experiences learned from his mistakes, he knew that he never hated John. He was too young to understand that he felt trapped by John's rigidly moral stances, a stance that he now appreciated better now that he was older and wiser. John was working like a bull as usual. The man was forty-three, an incomprehensibly ancient age to Alden's twenty-one year old mentality, handling the harvester like a pro. Watching him, Alden felt humbled. He had never seen a man that worked so hard to keep a roof over their hands. Alden knew that it hadn't been easy for John. Farmers had it harder and harder every year, as bank regulations seemed to deliberately squeeze every last drop of their life's blood. "Alden?" John called, stopping the machine he was driving when he saw the man standing on the dirt path. "Hello John." The words were more difficult to say than Alden expected. He hated the smug look that would sure to come from John. But John only jumped onto the ground, his face showing only concern, as he rushed towards Alden. "Oh God, Alden, you should have told me you were coming," he said, his voice choked. Before Alden could prepare himself, he was swept into John's embrace. When Alden was younger, John would swing Alden off his feet and spun the young boy around until Alden laughed at the older man's exuberance. But Alden had outgrown John in height and muscular bulk by the time he turned sixteen, and since then, John had never touched Alden anymore with such unrestrained emotion. Alden never knew how much he missed that until now. John gave a surprised shout of laughter as Alden lifted John easily off his feet and spun the man around in his arms just like John would do to him when he was a kid. "Put me down, you crazy kid," John exclaimed. They both fell onto the ground, John on Alden, and they both laughed as if they had always been friends, as if Alden had never left. John finally sighed as his laughter died, and his fingers pushed back Alden's short straight hair from Alden's forehead. "Welcome home, kid," John said. Alden nodded gratefully. John's welcome meant more to him that John would never know. It felt good to have someone around the farm, even if that someone was his nephew Alden, John thought as he sat in the dining room and watched Alden make them dinner. Alden surprised him by showing up two weeks ago and actually getting down to help around the farm without any complaining like he used to. The younger Alden had always wanted to party when there was always work to be done. John knew how that he screwed up by treating Alden like a grown-up even when Alden was a young man with a young man's need for excitement. When Alden left, John had often wondered what he could have done to repair the relationship between them. Now, he might have the chance. "I'm sorry about the things I said when you left," he said as Alden prepared the gravy for the mashed potato. Alden turned to give John a reassuring grin. "I'm sorry about the way I behaved. We're even now, John." Damn, that kid was gorgeous. With those powerfully muscled arms... John was horrified at the thought that crept into his mind. Jesus, the kid was pretty much his own son! An evil voice in John's head reminded him that Alden wasn't really his son or even a blood kin. And, John couldn't help feeling as Alden moved around in that tight tank top and those sexy running shorts that ended just midway along those thighs, Alden's equally powerfully muscled thighs could tempt any sane man to wonder what those muscles would feel between John's own thighs. Alden's tank top clung enough to his sculpted torso to allow John to imagine perfectly every ridge, every perfect muscle on that younger man's torso, and John, damn his imagination, could see perfectly the way Alden's stomach would clench with each powerful thrust Alden would make. That bulge in Alden's shorts suggested that he could easily meet John's wildest imaginations about Alden's dimension and virility. "You want some?" Alden asked. It was an innocent question, but John answered an affirmative a little too eagerly. He was squirming with guilt -- and from the painful erection in his jeans, for which he was grateful to be seated. Maybe Alden's coming home wasn't such a perfect notion after all, John thought with a quiet sigh. But there are worse things to endure, the optimist in him suggested -- such as an empty house. John was old fashioned enough to feel pleasure in coming home after a hard day's work to someone whom he could spend some quiet time with. Yes, he'd be sensible, he'd forget this insane lust he was harboring for Alden, and he'd be the best father figure for this young man... with a physique and looks that could tempt angels from heaven, and John was no angel, no matter how much he tried to be one. John, he told himself, you're in deep trouble. TWO Alden rubbed his bare chest absently as he walked back to his room after a quick trip to the toilet down the hallway. The light from under John's door caught his attention, and he smiled when he heard John's loud, graceless snore. He pushed the door -- it opened -- and felt a strange ache in his chest as he saw John asleep on the bed. The man obviously fell asleep while reading the latest Tom Clancy novel. Alden walked in and shut off the bedside lamp. John, he realized as he looked down at the sleeping man, was beautiful. The man was handsome in a weathered, chiseled way, but age had only made him more attractive. Now that Alden realized just how much John's steady presence had kept him in check throughout his wildest years, he found John's character as much as attractive feature as the slim but tightly muscled physique of the other man. Looking around him at the darkened room, Alden was caught by how barren John's life was. John read a lot, and it was evident from the books that filled every available surface and shelf in this room. There was even a book on the bedside table, as if John feared that he would finish this book too soon and ran out of something else to read for the rest of the night. When Alden was younger, he couldn't relate to his sensitive bookworm step-uncle, being the brainless muscle-bound jock that he was. Now he took in the room, realizing just how little of a life John had outside work, how John had no one in his life. John only had books of adventurous men to live vicariously through. Had John envied Alden when Alden refused to be responsible like John and left the farm to seek out the adventures John must dreamed of seeking himself? "Alden?" John whispered, making to sit up, but Alden's right palm over John's bare hirsute chest, right there over the groove between John's deeply defined pectorals, stilled him. "What are you doing here?" "I'm thinking of maybe I should fuck you good, John," Alden said, as John's breathing became sharper and faster as desire began pooling in their loins. "I'm really considering it," Alden said, pushing down the sheets covering John's stomach and lower body until his fingers could close around John's steely erection. John didn't answer. What could he say, when the object of his desire was now climbing onto the bed over him, offering himself to John? He was only human. His hands moved down the solid perfection of Alden's back to push down the man's shorts. Alden groaned as John cupped the man's buttocks. Alden's cock crown felt huge and moist against the tight fit of John's entrance, and then with a slight piercing pain, that cock was forging its way deep up along John's anus. As John's nerves protested deliciously at the invasion that stretched his ass to its limit, he dug his fingers into Alden's luscious nipples, feeling those male buds harden under his palm. This had to be a dream, he thought in a languid haze of pleasure as he arched his back and let Alden ride him long and hard. That young man was all he imagined to be and more. He kissed the sweat that slicked Alden's face and neck, he licked at the sweat droplets and kissed and bit Alden's lips, and he dug his fingers into the sensitive cleft of Alden's back, making Alden shudder the way Alden made John scream in pleasure. His fingers pressed deep into that warm sensitive cleft, teasing Alden as they moved down until they reached the pucker. Alden gave a cry of delight as John pushed first two, then four fingers up that hot tight ass. It was only much, much later when, drained by their orgasms, John held Alden as the man slept in his arms. Alden whimpered softly and snuggled to John like a vulnerable child, so unlike the raging and urgent lover that fucked John so good until the bed rattled from the force of their fucking. John lay back, every part of his body aching pleasantly from being fucked so well by this man in his arms. Enjoying the night air cooling their sweat-drenched skin, his nostrils reveling in the strong odor of two virile, lusty males, he rubbed his semen-slicked inner thighs in pleasurable remembrance of the way Alden finally lost control and poured into John's burning insides. Unlike Alden, he had a much harder time sleeping. It was still dark when Alden walked into the dining room wearing only a pair of briefs that did nothing to hide his prodigious morning wood. "Put on some clothes," John looked up and said as he poured himself some milk. "I don't want you to catch a chill." Alden just grinned as he walked up to John and placed his arms around John. "I won't get a chill. I'm a tough strong guy." "I noticed," John said, but his smile faded from his lips as Alden began kissing John's ears and neck, whispering obscene promises that had John almost coming in his jeans. When Alden pushed John's jeans down and took John from behind, right there with John bent over the sink, John came -- twice. He then licked Alden's mucus-and-come-slicked cock clean, his tongue flicking hungrily at the remnants of Alden's tasty juices at that wide cock slit and sucking Alden's still hard cock until Alden ended up fucking his mouth, offering John the perfect breakfast to start their day. They worked hard for the rest of the day, as always, but this time there was noticeable warmth in their playful banters. Lunch was extra pleasant. John, aroused by the sight of shirtless and sweaty Alden working at the hay, the young man's perfect muscles gleaming in the sweat and light and the man's jeans hanging low to expose the top of his briefs, engaged Alden in a most enjoyable fuck in the hayloft, each of them taking turns at the other man's ass. Alden was a delightful bottom as well as a top, engaging John in so many inventive positions that John's orgasm was most powerful than any others he'd ever had in the past. They ended their workday late in the evening by sharing a pleasant shower together. This pattern soon settled for the rest of the week, and then month, as John became addicted to his stepbrother's son. It had to show on his face, for when he drove to town for supplies, his friends began teasing him about this mysterious ruddy glow on his face. He looked into the mirror and couldn't see a difference, but he knew he liked having Alden in his life and in his bed. He wasn't sure whether this new Alden was here to stay though. It was to imagine a responsible Alden who woke up at five every day to work side by side with John without complaining. But it was definitely the old Alden when the man persuaded John to take a break on Sunday evenings and join Alden at the pub down town. If he was honest, he was also proud of this new Alden who acted like an adult, and he was secretly pleased with the fact that when they walked into the local gay watering hole, all eyes turned admiringly to Alden and then enviously at John when they realized that Alden belonged to him. It bothered him that Alden never told him exactly why he came back to John. John had tried asking, but Alden evaded the question, until John decided that Alden came back because he ran out of money and opportunities. He didn't believe that either. Alden was like John's stepbrother -- the Wynn men might be flighty and irresponsible charmers, but they were all dreamers and opportunists. Alden had shown that when it came to charms and seizing his dreams, he was very much like his father. Alden wasn't the kind of person to lie down and let his defeat conquer him so easy. John wished he could believe that his personality -- the same one that drove Alden away two years ago -- was what drove Alden back. Until then, he prepared himself for the inevitable. He and Alden had crossed a line they couldn't go back when they slept with each other, and John knew that when Alden leave once more, Alden would never come back to him again. THREE "Hey, how are you doing over there in backward country?" Tommy Welling's cheerful voice crackled with life even through the phone. "When are you coming back?" Alden chuckled as he made himself comfortable, snuggling against John as he talked to the phone. "I don't know," he admitted to Tommy. "Maybe when I know what I really want to do with myself, I'll come back." "Well, listen -- " "Who's that singing in the background? He's horrible," Alden asked. "Eric, shut up, please, you're embarrassing me, man," Tommy called out to the man he was living with. "That's Eric. He thinks he is displaying his love for the new Evanescence CD by murdering aloud the songs when he feels like it. Shut up, Eric!" Tommy yelled to Eric when the other man audibly said that if Tommy, who had his face plastered on those young adult novels and teenaged girl magazine covers, had anything to be embarrassed about, it was those corny cover photos, not Eric. Alden heard that and laughed. "I know, I miss you guys," he told Tommy. "I miss the gang too. Tell Wes I haven't forgotten that he owed me twenty bucks and a beer." "Yeah, Bryce was saying that the Friday night games were missing your obnoxious dumb jock antics." "Really?" "Yeah. Look, you dumb oaf, just don't get too comfortable playing farmer boy. We're overflowing with sensitive new age queens in this place, and we miss that hint of unrestrained simple philistine oafishness that only you can bring to the party." "Yeah, I love you too, Tommy." Serious now, he asked, "How's Duncan and Orli doing?" "Pretty good. Nobody's dead yet, so that's good, isn't it?" "Yeah." "See you soon." "Same here." Alden turned to meet John's questioning gaze. "What?" "You're leaving soon?" John asked. "I don't know," Alden said. "Look, maybe I should explain why I came back here." "Yeah, you should," John said, moving to rest on his side to look at Alden. Alden hesitated. "I'm not going to -- look," John said with a sigh. "I know I was pretty unreasonable in the past and I acted a little too strict and unforgiving when you didn't behave the way I wanted you to -- " "A little?" Alden snorted. "Okay, fine, I was puritanical," John said. "Happy now?" "Well, I was an asshole back then." "If you want to tell me you screw up, it's okay," John told me. "I won't scold." "You are the only guy who can make me feel so ashamed." Alden smiled weakly. "I always thought you are the most righteous man in this world and that your words are never wrong. And you're right, John. I am a screw-up. I came back here because I almost caused the death of a client." So he told John everything he never dared to until now. About how he met Duncan, a bounty hunter, and Orlando, a private investigator with a thing for sophisticated tracking devices, when they all ended up staking out the same seedy motel together. Alden was a debt collector who used his charms as well as brawn to make a name for himself. But he had an idea that they all could pool their wits together and start a company of their own. Over a few drinks, they all thought it was a good idea. And it was good for almost a year until Alden screwed up on a client's behalf and almost got the client killed. "This lawyer, Simon Baker, almost got killed because I got careless and the corrupt cops I'm tracking got wind of what I was doing and went after Simon himself," Alden told John. Damn, the memory of his cocky arrogance still smarted, especially when his carelessness almost killed a man. He was so arrogant back then, believing himself some immortal, omnipotent god when he was actually just a stupid kid. "Simon almost lost his life. So I told Duncan and Orli that they were better off without me, and I left. I was so stupid," he said bitterly. "I was a fool." John studied Alden silently for a few heartbeats. "Then you should go back," he said finally. "What?" Alden asked in disbelief. "You can't run away to me just because you screw up big time," John told him. "You won't find what you are looking for until you face your mistakes and the consequences of your actions." "Always the moral Uncle John," Alden said, but he wasn't mocking John, far from it. "Do you want me to go?" "No," John admitted. "I want you to stay with me, Alden." "Why?" "Because" -- John reached out and ran his thumb along Alden's lower lip -- "you, Justin Alden Wynn, you make my life less empty when you're in it." Alden's weak self-effacing chuckle echoed in the silence of their room. "I don't dare to go back," he told John. "Because Simon's boyfriend vowed that he would kill me if he sees me, and John, if you've seen that guy, you'll know that he means everything he says about cutting me up and feeding me to the sharks." "Alden -- " "Can we just not talk about this?" Alden interrupted him. "Right now I'm living one day at a time. Let me stay here, John, and help you with the farm. The profits are looking up this harvest, and we'll make next harvest even better. I'll sleep with you, we'll have lots of fun together. Isn't that enough?" "I don't know," John admitted. "It's enough for me, but what about you?" Alden had no answer to that. FOUR Four months later, John and Alden returned from their weekly trip to town for supplies when they saw two men waiting for them. One, a shorter, dark-haired man who was handsome in a dark and dangerous way, was leaning against the black jeep they drove here, while another man, a man with the most melancholic face John had ever seen, was seating on the back seat. He got out of the car and the dark-haired man straightened when John drove his truck up to the farm gate. "Shit," Alden whispered. "That's the guy who wants to kill you?" John asked, nodding at the dark and dangerous-looking fellow. "Colin Farrell. He's a mean piece of shit who is dangerous because he has no fear, John. When those cops attacked Simon, I saw him in action. He took them down even when they had put at least eight bullets into him. He has no fear for himself -- he's like some killing machine whose only care is to keep Simon -- " Alden nodded at the melancholic man -- "safe." "And they want to kill you?" John opened the door. Alden grabbed hold of him. "I'll talk to them, Alden." "They'll kill you," Alden pleaded. "Don't, let's just drive away." "They are not here to kill you," John told him. He looked at the two strangers. No, they weren't here to kill Alden, not when Simon placed his hand over the tensed Colin in a calming gesture. It was, John knew, the touch of a man who was more intent on pacifying than committing a murder today. "Stay in the truck, Alden." He walked towards the two. Jesus, the dark-haired, blue-eyed Colin's gaze gave him the creeps -- they were so lifeless and devoid of emotion. Then again, Simon's eyes were equally disturbing -- they were too serene and calm, a deceptive front to hide the ice inside the man. These two were one screwed-up couple. And Alden, being Alden, got out of the truck and walked one step behind John. "Hello, guys," John greeted them warily, "I'm John Schneider and you are standing on my property." "I'm Simon Baker." Simon smiled in greeting. "I'm here to clear up a misunderstanding between Alden, your nephew, and my... friend Colin." "Get straight to the point. I'm going to kill that fuck," Colin growled. "And he won't," Simon said, nodding at Alden. "I just learned from Colin what he threatened your nephew only last week. I came out of the hospital -- a common occurrence," Simon said, a grin playing on his lips, "and looked for Alden, and that was when I learned what happened." Simon pulled out an envelope from his pocket. Colin growled in displeasure as Simon handed the envelope to John. "My check for Alden's services. And Colin?" "I won't kill you," Colin sputtered. He didn't want to say those words. "I'll just break both your legs." "Colin." Colin actually looked sheepishly apologetic at Simon's one-worded admonishment. "Okay, I won't kill you." To Simon, he gave a dark look. "Happy now?" Simon chuckled and shook his head. For the first time, human emotions cross his face as he exchanged a "Can you believe this guy?" look with a startled John. "Okay, that's done with, we'll best be on our way." "Wait a minute," Alden spoke for the first time. "You're not angry with me?" "I should know better than to hire amateurs," Simon said without any hint of mockery. "The fault's all mine." "Alden is not an amateur," John said. "Oh please," Colin muttered. To Alden, he spat to the ground before speaking. "I won't kill you," he said. "But that's because Simon says so. Count yourself lucky I got there in time to save the both of you. If he dies, Alden, you will -- " "That's enough," Simon said, a slow hint of anger showing for the first time in his voice. "Let's go." "That," John said, as they watched the car drive away, "is the strangest duo I've ever met." "I know," Alden said. John had to laugh at the absurdity of the whole brief encounter as well as with relief that Alden was let off the hook. Alden joined him. John licked at Alden's semen that had flowed from the sides of his mouth before reaching for a glass of milk to drown the strong taste of Alden from his mouth. Alden got off the table. "Okay, John, what's bothering you?" John looked down at his stomach. "I think I'm losing weight. I'm working at the farm and spending most of my nights fucking. It can't be healthy to keep this up. Maybe it'll be a good thing when you go back to New York. You'll visit once in a while, right?" "You won't leave the farm," Alden said. "That means it's up to me to give up the city and live here, am I right?" "No, maybe not." John killed the last of his doubts. Watching Alden, he wanted this chance at a life with Alden too much not to even give it a try. "I've learned one thing from you, Alden. It's no use keeping this farm if it means I will end up alone in my old days. I spent my whole life trying to be responsible, and I think I overdid it. You go back, Alden. I'll get someone to help me out with the farm, and when I'm done, I'll come down and join you." He took Alden in his arms. "Hey, when harvest's done, I'll drive down every time and be with you." "It may work," Alden concurred. "But I want to see you every day, not just a few months every year." "I can get some time off when I have someone running the farm in my absence," John assured him. "One day at a time, Alden." Alden nodded. "One day at a time," he echoed. John kissed the man's forehead and held him tight, until Alden took his hand and led him to their bedroom. A year later He could get used to this, John thought, as he lay on his stomach and enjoyed the feel of the sun tanning his back. Selling off his farm, despite Alden's protests, and moving to town to live with Alden was a better idea than he'd initially suspected. He was working on his novel which he was sure would beat anything Tom Clancy or his ghostwriters could come up with, he was having a blast playing pool with new friends, and he even loved his high school janitor job. He was also enjoying this nice little cruise on the yacht lent by one of Alden's grateful client. Alden was in the pool, leaving John here at the poolside to get some sun. He must have dozed off because he jumped in pleasant surprise when Alden's hands playfully cupped his bare buttocks. "Hey!" he yelled when Alden began rubbing the tip of his swollen cock along the cleft of John's buttocks. "I'm trying to sleep here!" "You can sleep later," Alden suggested. John turned around so that he could pull Alden down for a kiss. Alden and Colin's relationship took a turn for the bizarre when Colin walked into the office two weeks after Alden returned, proclaimed to the stunned Orlando, Duncan, and Alden that the three men were "fucking losers", and announced that he was going to teach those three men the proper way to run their business. After a short fist fight which saw Duncan and Alden badly trashed by Colin (Orlando wisely stayed out of the fray), they decided to let Colin pretend that he was the Bosley in their operations. They would never admit that Colin had taught them a lot of the tricks of the trade and even saved them out of troubles more than once, but they never had to because Colin would remind them every other Monday. The man's crude but effective ways endeared him to them more than they would care to admit. Life offered quite a few surprising twists, John told Alden as they watched the sunset together after their lovemaking. He was glad that Alden was one of them.