Date: Thu, 27 May 2004 00:38:36 -0400
From: Bill McBride <billytk69@hotmail.com>
Subject: Reclaming Austin 10

OK! IT'S DONE IT'S DONE!!!!!!!!!!  You know all the legal stuff and
pleasantries about not reading if it's against your religion or political
affiliation to enjoy gay material, it applies here just like every other
thing in this site.

Enjoy.

Reclaiming Austin 10

Over the next few weeks, my daily routine fell back into place. The intense
and overwhelming presence of my friends receded to a comfortable level, and
I could now piss without someone rushing to my door to make sure I wasn't
making a noose out of my shower curtain. Don't get me wrong; knowing my
past, I would have done the same thing, and there was no way I was hiding
how I felt. Empty, confused, lost; I was basically on autopilot as I
coasted through the days. I really appreciated the fact that I had such
incredible friends. I was also glad that they knew when it was time to
withdraw.

This doesn't mean I was better. I felt like a huge part of me had died an
agonizing death. Just like grief at losing a parent or friend, there are
stages one traverses as one navigates his or her way back to normal. Well,
whatever the hell normal means.

Loss and grief went on for quite some time. Denial was hard to support as I
was completely cut off from Austin. But anger? Well now, "THAT" was a
different story.

Early June was a hot, swampy bathroom of humidity. Inland Florida was
stagnant, almost holding the squadrons of mosquitoes in place. I stayed
inside if I couldn't be at the beach, as much as possible. I hid behind my
air-conditioning like a all important Aegis1. Ryan had come over and was
watching a soccer match on TV while I was folding laundry in the
bedroom. The strangeness of realizing Ryan was more attracted to me then he
admitted was on my mind.  I smiled as I realized how easily Ryan, with his
sporting persona and masculine traits, might step into Austin's shoes. I
could easily see Austin sitting there with a Budweiser as I did house work
around him.

I was lost in this fruitless and painful course of thought when there was a
knock on my door. I told Ryan to sit down while I answered it. Standing
there full of apparent rage and palpable anger was Nathan, the rotten
little homophobe who had freaked out at Phil's party. The silence and pause
that followed seemed to last ages as we stood staring at each other. In
that time, my mind raced to link this angry, hostile kid, Austin's leaving
me, and the vicious rumor that had preceded him to Gainesville. I saw in
that violent visage a danger that he might try to hurt me. In slow motion,
I watched my hand fly out and connect firmly on his solar plexus.

I watched almost from a set of different eyes as he bent over, and I
grabbed him by his collar and left arm and pivoted around while lifting him
slightly then drove my leg between his legs with enough force to lift him
in a perfect shoulder throw. In judo, this is called Uchi Mata, one of the
most spectacular and devastating throws in the sport. The point is to throw
one's adversary in a perfect arc over the thrower and force him to land
with an amazing amount of force. In this case, on an end table that
shattered in a thunderous explosion. His surprise was evident, and his
shock registered as I went on autopilot and slid in behind him on the floor
and wrapped my arms around his throat. Western wrestling calls this the
"sleeper." The Japanese have perfected this move like everything else they
do and made it into a lethal and nearly inescapable hold, which cuts off
blood to the brain by squeezing the carotid arteries.

My brain had snapped. This was the person responsible for all my pain and
everything bad that had happened.  Every iota of that anger and fury
suddenly burst out of me in this moment, and my brain watched as a detached
observer.

It might seem out of character for me to explode with such violence and
power. I suppose there has been little indication that I was capable of
such an act. Consider this, though. Growing up as both small and gay, one
has few choices if one wants to survive. A person can hide and cower and
hope to be overlooked, one can buddy up with larger guys who will offer
protection or one can learn to defend themselves. Guns are easier to learn
but harder to carry with you everywhere. Martial arts offered both a strong
sense of confidence and a way to ensure that I would not be a victim ever
again. Nathan was certainly not going to victimize me any further.

	"Jesus Christ, Alex. What the hell are you doing?"  Ryan screamed
as he ran into my living room.

I quickly moved his body so Nathan was shielding me with his flailing arms
and torso.

	"He did it, Ryan. He told Austin's girlfriend about us, and now
he's gonna pay!"  I hissed behind Nathan's ear.

	"Alex, you have to let him go. Alex, you won. You proved your
point."  Ryan was pleading as Mrs. Tremere rushed into my doorway and saw
what was happening.

	"Mon ami, tu as besoin d'arręter, tu as besoin de lui laisser Alex,
mon cher je t'en prie, ne fait pas ceci. Alex je t'en prie, pour moi, ne le
fait pas? Laisse-lui mon amour 1."

In that moment, Mrs. Tremere was pleading with me in hysterical French,
which I understood no better then I would Swahili, Nathan went
limp. Although I had obviously never done this move to this point before, I
was told that death would follow swiftly if he didn't get his blood flow
restored.

	"Dude! He ... he's..."  Ryan said stunned watching Nathan's body
slump. The telephone was in his hand as he dialed 911.

Something finally brought me back to earth, my eyes were my own once again
and the look on their faces pierced through even my anger. I pulled my hand
back and flattened my hand for an open hand blow and pounded it forcefully
into Nathan's spine. Ryan dove at me to stop this action as Mrs. Tremere
screamed,
	"Non!"

As soon as my palm hit Nathan, he started to cough and act like a drowning
victim come back to life. The place I hit him was a pressure point to
revive those knocked out in chokeholds. But it looks like a killing blow if
you don't know what's going on.

I let Nathan slide to the ground and rest as I marched my fury filled body
to my room, saying to no one in particular,
	"I don't want to see that evil shit when I come out."

I had never been so angry or focused in my life. All the anger from my
childhood of being tortured by homophobes like Nathan had merged with the
realization of what I assumed this evil kid had done. I was shaking from
the adrenaline and had to be alone. Blind fury leaves a strong metallic
taste in your mouth, like chewing on an iron fence.

I lay on my bed and waited for the police to come. I was sure I was going
to be taken downtown. But no one came, and my breathing finally returned to
normal. Eventually a knock on my door preceded Phil coming in warily.

	"Can I talk for a minute dude?"  He asked calmly.

	"Go for it."  I said from my barely contained hostility in my dark
room.

	"Dude, it wasn't Nathan who told Austin. It was a girl. I don't
know who, but ...Nathan is here to explain all that. We calmed him down,
and he needs to talk to you about something. You don't have to see him if
you don't want, but I think you should dude."

	"Are you telling me I almost killed ... I almost killed him, and he
was innocent?"  I said as I opened my eyes. Tears welled up, and my
righteous anger turned to a cold and palpable fear.

	"Alex, dude, Nathan needs to ask you something. Pull yourself
together and come on out, OK?"

	"Yeah ... I ... I ...Yeah, I'll be out in a minute Phil. G-give me
a minute."  I stammered.

Several minutes later, after washing my face and pulling myself together, I
walked out to find Nathan, Phil and Ryan sitting around one of
Mrs. Tremere's silver trays filled with pastries that she had made.

I looked at Nathan, and then lowered my eyes. I tried to apologize when
Phil spoke up.
	"Go get a drink, and then come sit down."

So I grabbed a Pepsi and went and sat down on the couch near Phil.

	"Nathan, I am so sorry dude. I, I ..."  I stuttered as I searched
for the right words.

	"The truth is I saw you and ... I figured it had to be you, and you
looked so angry I assumed you'd come to do something to me. I-I I
snapped. But ... ohhh God Nathan, Nathan, I'm I, I'm really sorry!"  I
pleaded with him.

	"I'll get over it," He said with barely hidden contempt as he
rubbed his throat soothingly.

	"I came here ta get ya ta stop Dennis."

Nathan said slowly trying not to glare at me.

I looked at him confused then turned to Phil before turning back.

	"I don't understand. What're you talking about?"

Nathan stared at the floor a second before fixing me with his fiery eyes.

"Dennis filled mah car with dog shit and fucked up mah paint with some
chemical. Yesterday he fucked with mah house, and this afternoon ... dude,
he super glued all mah windows and doors shut. He sent me dead squirrels in
the mail."

He paused a moment and set his jaw in an angry glower.

	"The cops say that unless someone sees him, they can't do
anything."

I got a chill suddenly and looked at Phil.

	"I tried talking to Dennis yesterday, he said he had to hear from
you before he'd stop. Anyhow, I didn't see any harm in brining him
here. Maybe I shoulda gone first though," Phil offered in retrospect as he
looked from Nathan to my ruined table that had been cleared and stored in a
corner near my kitchen.

Nathan added through clenched teeth,
	"He's fucking with the wrong redneck!"

In truth, I think that last comment was more bravado and anger then any
real threat. I doubted Nathan could do anything to Dennis.

	"I'll call him, and I'm sorry about your car. I, I, I had no idea."
I stuttered.

I went to my room to call Dennis and talk in private. When I came back, I
assured Nathan that the harassment would stop.

	"Dennis said he would stop and that he'd pay to get your car
cleaned," I sat down and could see how shaken up Nathan was.

	"ah didn't tell nobody nuth'n 'bout Austin. What y'all perverts do
ain't nunna mah concern.  Far as ahm concerned, he's dead," Nathan said as
he got up to leave and slammed my door on his way out.

After Nathan left, I sat down and had a cheese croissant.

"So," I said to Phil. "How do you know it was a girl, and what haven't you
told me?"  I asked directly.

Phil and Ryan gave each other conspiratorial looks like spies who'd been
caught.

	"I called him the other day," Ryan offered slowly.

My heart leapt for a second. As I saw their faces, my heart went cold and I
felt my stomach knot up and sink like an anchor.

	"Well?"  I asked, resigned to the bad news I knew they had.

	"Alex, we didn't talk too long. I just got a few answers," Ryan
said softly.

	"It wasn't Nathan, it was some girl from the same sorority as
Phoebe who worked at Disney who recognized him from UF and called
Phoebe. Apparently, she made Austin prove it was all a joke by staying
close to her and staying away from all the people down here she didn't
know. He misses you, Alex. He made me promise to take care of you."

Ryan put his hand on my shoulder. I sat for a second vacillating between
feeling sorry for him and wanting to hold him and cold anger at him and
wanting to purge him from my heart with an acetylene torch.

	"Fine. He's made his choice, I can move on now," I said in petulant
anger.

Ryan and Phil wanted to talk to me about it, but I ignored them with the
stubborn energy of a mad 4-year old.

I had been hopelessly depressed before. Now my sad tears had entered a cold
rage. God I'm a moody bastard sometimes.

Several days later, I was walking along Orange Avenue in Orlando with
Michael. Ostensibly I was there to help him shop for clothing, a task I was
appointed to rather then asked to perform. Unlike most gay men whose sense
of direction is supplanted by a strong sense of fashion, Michael was born
devoid of anything resembling a fashion sense. Thankfully he had a
remarkable sense of direction and could change a flat tire without
assistance though, so he was useful for those times a lesbian or straight
man wasn't around.

	"Why the hell are we walking around Orange Avenue at 11 o'clock on
a Saturday morning?" Michael asked since there were no actual clothing
stores in the area.

	"We're killing time till noon when we will walk over to Little
Saigon and have lunch, then we'll go to the Florida Mall, OK?"

	"I wanted sushi," Michael stated boldly.

I fixed Michael with a glare I seldom used, which told him that not only
was he pushing me too far on a Saturday morning, but also that I wasn't
going to let him win like I normally did. I was never hard to read. My
emotions were written all over me.

	"Little Saigon is good too, I guess."  Michael conceded.

So we window-shopped and explored the small stores leading up to Colonial
Drive and made our way to Little Saigon.

	"So are you feeling better yet, bitch?" Michael asked.

	"Somewhat. I'm more mad than anything else right now to be honest,"
I said as I reached for the front door to Little Saigon.

	"Good. Does that mean I can stop pretending to like you and start
making fun of you again?"

I was about to answer when Julie saw me and came over singing,
	"Heeeeeelllllllllllo Alex, hellllllllo Michael," Before hugging us
both.

She then stepped back and looked from me to Michael quickly before scowling
at him and pointing a small finger at him.

	"I know what's happening with Alex, you be nice to him Michael!"
She admonished sternly but with that ever-present smile.

Michael shot me a sour look, and I couldn't help but grinning back as she
sat us and handed us the menus.

	"You two are so bad! Nobody else understands your game," Julie said
shaking her head.
	"I come back with summer rolls for you two," Then she stopped,
looked at us a second then took the menu's out of our hands.

	"I don't know why I give you menu's, you always order the same
things."  Julie smiled and shook her head as she walked away.

	"You paid her to say that to me didn't you?"  Michael said trying
to suppress a grin.

	"Be nice, or I'll start crying and tell her it was you."  I grinned
back.

Michael gave his sinister scowl.

Lunch was wonderful, and we had two Vietnamese coffees to finish the meal.
Think insanely sweet Turkish coffee with a kick.

We chatted with Julie a little more and paid our bill, left a great tip,
and walked out.

	"Well, well. Looky what Rupaul dragged out!" a voice called out
from behind us as Michael and I left. I looked up at Michael and then over
to the guy who had called it out.  What I saw was a tall fashion model
grinning at me.

	"Jason?"  I asked as I broke out in a smile and went up and hugged
him.

	"Thanks for calling me before you came down!" Jason scolded me, a
hint of a grin sparkling in his eyes.

	"I, uhhhh, I didn't know I was gonna be here to be honest."

	"Care to join me for lunch?"  Jason asked.

	"I ... ummmm ..."  I suddenly remembered Michael standing behind me
when I saw Jason's eyes dart up.

	"Ohhh, Jason, this is Michael, my best friend. Michael, this is
Jason. We met at that dinner party Ryan took me to," I said.

Jason had on his award-winning smile as he shook Michael's hand, and
Michael looked like a deer in headlights. Good-looking guys sometimes had
that effect on Michael, and Jason could have walked off any runway in
Europe.

But it was fun to watch the 6-foot-6 Michael drooling down at 6-4 Jason.

	"So, would the two of you care to join me? I'm starving," Jason
asked.

I was turning to ask Michael, but even before I could, he started pushing
me toward the door. I took that to mean yes.

	"Well, we just ate to be honest, but what the hell," I said as
Jason held the door and we shuffled in.

	"Oh my, one of you make new boyfriend so quick!"  Julie said,
almost laughing as she walked up.

We had an interesting lunch. Jason managed to relax Michael a little,
enough to at least speak and make small talk. And Jason proved to be as
funny and amiable a guy as he had been that night at the party. Not having
anything else on his itinerary for the afternoon, he decided to accompany
us to the mall. I swear it's genetic!

Although we were there for Michael, each of us ended up acquiring piece
after of piece of attire. Jason and I fed off each other as we critiqued
and gave our assessments on certain outfits. While Michael was trying a few
of his pieces on in Abercrombie and Fitch, I asked Jason something away
from the dressing room.

	"Jason, next week is Michael's birthday party. Would you like to
come?  It's a surprise party, so please don't let on."

	"Abso-fucking-lutely. I never turn down a party."

	"Cool. Seeing as how he's left a foot of drool all over the mall on
account of you."

Jason grinned and asked,
	"So he's not normally soooo ..."

	"Shy?  Nooooo, he's usually funny as hell and twice as witty.  He's
just off his game cause of your looks."

Jason got a huge grin.
	"What about you? My looks bothering you?" Jason asked as he
pretended to look at a pair of shorts.

	"maybe a little," I said evenly.

	"Guess I need to keep working on you then, huh?"  He said as he
nudged me into the shirt display.

	"Any reason you're trying? A guy like you has got to have guys all
over the place," I said as I nudged him back and he nearly fell into the
shorts he was looking at.

	"There are a few guys I'm seeing I guess. But how come the big guy
gets all quiet and his little friend isn't even phased?"  Jason asked
teasingly.

I got a big grin and pretended to peruse the ties.

	"Well, which of them is the cute model following around throwing
himself at?"  I asked, barely suppressing a grin. I was having
honest-to-god fun for the first time in months. It felt good.

Jason laughed,
	"Damn, you're one cocky little shit!"

	"You got no idea!"  Michael said as he exited his booth and walked
up to us.

I ignored his comment and said,

	"Oh baby, those shorts are so not working with that shirt. Try that
teal-striped shirt I picked out for you earlier."

	"Thanks Giorgio!"  Michael scowled.

When Michael disappeared in the dressing room again I turned to Jason and
said,

	"It's amazing how much sarcasm they stuffed in that boy."

	"Does that mean you won't mind if I fuck with him a little?"  He
asked mischievously.

I laughed and hit the big guy in the arm.

	"Nooooo, be nice!"  I paused for a moment picturing the abuse he
reighned on me usually.
	"Mostly."  I added with a smirk.

In the end, Michael ended up spending a great deal more money than he
usually did on these outings, but Jason seduced him into a few really nice
outfits that looked great on his tall frame.

At 6, we finally stopped for dinner at one of those chains where they hang
crap, memorabilia, and junk on every wall and the waiters are forced to
wear humiliating amounts of buttons and decorations. But they served drinks
so ...

While we were eating and drinking, Michael brought up the idea of going
out. As it was Saturday, and Southern Nights was having its Lesbi-go-go
night, We opted for Parliament House.


	"Maybe Michael will get lucky and win Balcony Bingo!"  Jason
teased, though the fact that only Michael was signaled out for this wasn't
lost on me.

To explain Balcony Bingo requires an understanding of the Parliament
House. It isn't really a bar or club, although it has both. It's a huge
complex consisting of a large club, a theater, a country bar which isn't
attached, a swimming pool, a back bar for the leather types, and a
two-story hotel.  Balcony Bingo is simply taking a tour around the rooms
and seeing if any of the guests want to party. Plenty of shows were put on,
too ... slings ... S&M ... orgies.

The place has new owners who have cleaned the place up and made some
much-needed improvements.  They also ended balcony bingo, so it's cruising
the complex as one does in any other club now. Back then though, the
debauchery was tangible.


As we were much closer to Michael's apartment, we decided to go there and
get cleaned up and take only one vehicle to the club. We all picked out
what we wanted to wear and tossed the new clothes in Michael's washer and
sat around drinking beers and talking.

	"Oh Jason," Michael blurted.

	"Yeah?

	"Make sure Alex gives you an invitation and directions to my
surprise party next week, She'll probably forget otherwise."  Michael said
in a patronizing voice aimed at me.

	"Sorry, Jason," I added without missing a beat.

	"But it was canceled due to the fact that nobody loves Michael and
I couldn't get anyone to show, maybe we can get him drunk and drop him off
in a room at Parliament."  I taunted back.

	"Bitch!"  Michael stated.

I got up to get another round.

	"You want a drink, dork wad?"  I asked Michael.

	"No, better not if I'm driving."  He said half-heartedly.

So I got Jason and I another round then went and put the clothes in the
dryer.
	"So is Ron working?"  I asked.

	"Isn't Ron always working?"  Michael scowled at me.

Ron was Michael's roommate, a saucy guy with a permanent address on
Gay.com. A few minutes later, Michael suggested we use Ron's bathroom and
start our showers now since the clothing would be dry by the time we were
done. I suspected he also wanted to see Jason walking around in his
Calvin's or a towel. I have to admit, the idea was tenting my towel too.

Jason took the last shower, and I ironed his shirt and pants as he
showered. I only got to see a brief moment of his Calvin-clad bulge. He
caught me looking and got a knowing half-smirk.  Then he stepped in the
bathroom door and whistled to me, when I turned to see him he had dropped
everything but his Calvins and posed for me.  Damn, that guy was so many
shades of fine!


Half an hour later, we were ready to leave in Michael's car, since it was
the largest and it was covered unlike my Jeep.

I sat in the back, (the short guy always sits in the back seat) and we
listened to a mixed tape of Amber and some other club hits that Jason
brought with him on the way to Parliament House.

The Parliament House is a very large complex with a large area for parking
both on site and in the desolate downtown area that surrounds it. The
complex sits like an oasis in a sprawl of decrepit buildings and old stores
that was probably cutting-edge nouveau in the 1950s.

As soon as we got close, the boom of the club started filling our veins and
altering the atmosphere. One could see the physical change, we stood
taller, got that swing in our step, and we strutted in like runway
models. Though only one of us really could have been a model.

The place was hopping at full capacity. It took forever to get to the bar,
but Jason was so damned good-looking and Michael was so freaking tall, we
got drinks almost immediately once we were there.

After half an hour of posing and nodding to people we kinda knew, and an
hour and a half of dancing, we watched the early drag show. Later we walked
around (and, yes, we played balcony bingo, though mostly just to see what
was going on).

After another round of drinks, Jason suggested going to the country/leather
bar, Fullmoon Saloon.  It wasn't my favorite place to visit, as I didn't
care for country music, but I'd downed enough Southern Comfort that I
really didn't care.  We must have looked hysterical, Michael towering at
6-6, Jason almost as tall at 6-4 and me following after like a hobbit on
speed.

Several guys knew Jason, mostly older ones which reminded me of his former
career. I noticed Michael was getting quite lit. He was laughing
hysterically and the two of them were holding each other up when we were
joking. I knew as soon as Michael put his arm around me and started
laughing with me that there was no way he was driving home. Michael and I
both tend to be good-natured, funny drunks. He must have realized he was
getting drunk too, since he physically put his keys in my pocket.

We went outside on their deck and ordered more drinks there. Michael had
gone off to the bathroom when this country song came on and several couples
flocked to the floor. Before I knew it I found Jason putting my drink on
the counter and pulling me over to the floor, too. He pulled me against him
and was rocking us rhythmically to the music. My face was pressed into his
chest and, well, I just followed and giggled a little. I must have been
drunk because I was sort of dancing to country music. No one who knew me
would've believed I was on the floor.

	"This is one of my favorites," Jason yelled down at me.

I nodded my head on his chest and enjoyed the warmth and comfort of being
held.

A short time later, Jason's right hand went from my shoulder down my back,
and when I thought it was going to go over my jeans to my ass, I was very
surprised when his hand weasled under my waistband instead. I gasped deeply
as his warm hand snaked over my ass.

A second after Jason worked his hand down my pants, he leaned over and
said,
	"You ain't wearing any underwear!!!"

I turned into his face and put my lips on his neck,
 "Nope!"  The next second, a long finger entered the crevice in my ass
cheeks and was softly dragged up the valley. I went weak for a second and
fell against him.

	"Like that do ya?"  Jason asked deeply from far above me. I nodded
my head against him. I was suddenly much more sober then I had been a
second before.

	"I sure do like slow dancing," Jason's deep voice said above me as
I was caressed by his finger and held tightly against him.

I had passed quickly from shock to confusion to full enjoyment of the
situation in less then a minute, and when Jason lifted his large hand
slightly his finger pressed tightly against my excited hole. If my eyes had
been open they would have crossed. His other large hand spread out across
my back and rubbed me tenderly. I lay against the built chest just drunk
enough to ignore everything else but how good it felt.

I wanted to tell him how good it felt, but the reality of bars is that a
guy his height couldn't hear a guy my height unless he leaned over really
far or I screamed at him. There were other ways Michael and I had devised
to communicate, but I didn't want to put Jason in a submission hold and
there were no stools around for me to stand on.

Jason was lifting his hand just enough to cause me to tiptoe slightly and
enough to finally get his finger where he'd wanted it all along. I moaned
into his chest and could just hear him chuckle.

	"Heeeeeeeeey Papi!!!!! Who's you friend Yason?"  This Hispanic
voice interrupted from behind me.

I didn't move even though Jason's finger was quickly removed and his hand
left my ass. Left it wanting more, to be honest. I still stayed against his
chest.

	"Oscar, my man! What brings you and Ricky to this place? Aren't you
guys more into the Southern Nights crowd?"  Jason asked in a slightly
slurred voice, it might have hinted at being drunk and annoyed, but that
might just have been me wanting to read my feelings into it.

"Ches, but not on Saturday night. Ricky don' like the lezpian night. So,
who you' friend? Or do jou know hees name yet?"  Oscar laughed.

	"Oscar, Alex. Alex, Oscar, Oscar is a fellow..."  Jason searched
for a word before saying with a wide grin,
	"man whore."

I busted out laughing and Jason joined in as Oscar became slightly
indignant.

	"Oh no jou di'in!!!"  Oscar shot as he fixed a venomous scowl on
Jason.

Jason and I laughed as Oscar scowled.

	"So, why jou paying Yason Alan? Jou's a cutie. An so young."  Oscar
asked me as he tried to step between Jason and me. My mouth hung open, as
Oscar seemed to be almost attacking me. Jason quickly stepped up and
wrapped his arm around me.

	"Actually Oscar, I'm paying Alex, He's got a few talents you
wouldn't believe," Jason said as he closed his eyes and Shivered
dramatically.

Oscar's face changed from angry and bitter to surprised and curious in a
millisecond.
	"Oh jes? Wha' jou do?"  Oscar asked me sweetly.

Before either of us could come up with something, this older guy with the
worst toupee I'd ever seen came up and put his arm around Oscar.

	"Hi, baby."  He said as he kissed Oscar on the cheek from behind.

"Oh, hello Jason," He said as he smiled at Jason and set his eyes on me.

	"Hello baby."  Oscar said as he slid into Ricky's arms.

	"Alan, dis ees Ricky, ees mi Papi!"

	"Oscar, his name is Alex, not Alan," Jason said as he shook Ricky's
hand.

	"Hokay, what ever," Oscar said without any embarrassment.

	"Baby, I'm gonna geh another cocktail, jou wan somethin?"  Ricky
handed Oscar a $20 and said he was fine.

Ricky was actually quite well built, despite his hairpiece. He should have
just gone bald or worn a hat. When Oscar came back I watched as he and
Ricky kissed and entwined.

So Jason and I shook his hand and they began talking when I suddenly
realized that Michael had been gone for some time.

	"Excuse me guys, someone I know has been gone for a little too
long," I said as I let my hand slide across Jason.

	"Mebee ees geeting lucky? Jou jess gunna cock block heem, Jes?"
Oscar said, approaching me again.

	"We came here together, I just need to know where he is, I'll be
back" I reassured him as I slipped into the stream of people that boiled
around our group.

I found Michael on the other side of the deck talking with a friend he'd
gone to school with named Blaine. I was walking up to say hi when I was
grabbed by a very drunk Oscar.

	"Why jou run away? I jess wanna know what jou do dat make Yason so
happy," he slurred as he got too close for my comfort.

	"I was just going to see my ..."  then a thought flashed in my
drunken mind.
	"Pimp."  Then I waved at Michael and true to his irascible nature
he scowled at me and called out,

	"What the fuck you want HO?"  He sneered menacingly at me as he
glowered.

	"Oh shit, he's in a bad mood ... Ozwald, you should leave, he gets
soooo mean when he drinks!"  I said intentionally messing up Oscar's name.

	"Bitch, did I say you could flirt?!?!?"  Michael said as he rose
from his bar stool. He was unwittingly acting perfect because Oscar simply
melted into the crowed before Michael even got near me.

I jumped on the rungs of a bar stool and kissed Michael on the lips.

	"Michael, promise me that if that guy ever comes near me again,
you'll get all postal on him will you?"  I asked. We both started to laugh
and he landed up holding me up as I fell against him laughing. We laughed
even harder when I explained that I had told Oscar that Michael was my
mean, jealous pimp.

Michael, Blaine and I laughed and were hugging all each other for support
as the beers, Southern Comforts, and screwdrivers added up.

Jason showed up a few minutes later and slipped an arm around me and kissed
me on the nose as he indicated to the bartender that we needed another
round. We SOOOOOOO didn't need another round, but by that point who was
making good decisions?

"Ya ready ta blow thiz place sport?"  Jason asked as he gently pulled me
off my barstool.

"Ihz really crowded t'night, how bout I do hahf t'night an dhe rezt
tomorrow?"  I slurred as I started laughing at my own drunken joke.

It took Michael and Jason a minute before they caught it, but Michael
quickly volunteered to help me.

As we stumbled towards the car, Michael suddenly cursed.  "God damnit, I
lohst mhy keyz!"

This caused several minutes of panic as we ran around to the bars searching
for the missing keys.

Finally I remembered what had happened and stopped the other two.  "Ah've
got good newz an bad news Michael."

Michael was clearly not in a joking mood just then so I just continued, "Ah
know where yer keyz ar an the're fahn, but we c'n't use em t'nite." Michael
just glared at me as I held up his keys and jingled them.

	"Mich'l, if we're zo drunk we c'n't rembemb where dey wen', Ah don'
thing any uv uz should drive."

I was bracing for a barrage of verbal abuse but Michael just started to
turn red and then burst out laughing.

"Lez wake Ron up an make him come an git us," Michael said laughing
hysterically and holding himself up on a pole outside the bar.

I started to laugh, too. Ron was probably on a date and ... well ... we
were being evil drunks. SENSIBLE evil drunks. Being sensible drunks, we did
the only thing possible as we waited for Ron to come pick us up, we went
inside and had another round.

Ron wasn't a happy camper, not even a little bit as he pulled up in his
little white Geo. He didn't say one word on the ride home despite our best
jokes and sincerest efforts to make him smile.  He must have been in a bad
mood, he didn't even hit on Jason.

At the apartment, he went in to his room and closed the door quietly which
meant he had a guest. Otherwise, he would have slammed it.

Michael reached in my pockets and yanked his keys out as he went toward his
room "Ahm lockin mah dohr in 10 minetz, if ya wan' a bed nstead ov a couch
ya beddeh ghet ridy now."

He slurred before he marched towards his door.  At the last second he
turned around with a grin,

"'cept you Jaz'n. You cahn tahke az lung az ya wan' baby."

I rolled my eyes at his shameless flirting and Jason laughed. I was the
last into Michael's small bathroom so the other two were in already in bed
giggling when I walked into the dark room.

"Ah had a bad dream, ah wanna sleep wit y'all tanight" I giggled as I
crawled up the center of the bed and squeezed between the two giants.

After much giggling and a little inappropriate touching, we all landed up
spooning each other, Michael facing out, me behind him and Jason snuggled
behind me. I had my hand draped over Michael and on impulse reached down to
see if my suspicion was right.

"Dahddy, Mohmmy'z got a hard on!"  I complained in my best little kid
voice.

Jason pressed up hard against me until a definite protrusion poked me in
the butt and said,

"So does daddy baby."

A second later a hand reached around my waist and Jason said,

"Hmmmmmmm, So do you Beaver."

Which made us all start laughing. We got the giggles so bad Ron started
banging on the wall in Michael's closet that separated their rooms.

"Shut the fuck up!"  He yelled. Which, naturally, made us laugh harder. The
harder we tried to be quiet the louder our laughing became.

Finally, the booze had its sedative effect, and we got quiet. I had never
taken my hand off Michael and just started to do what came naturally to me,
and the motion let Jason know what we were doing so he reached his hand
down my boxers and started jacking me gently. For the first time that
night, all three of us were quiet. After several minutes, Michael started
to moan and suddenly he reached down and took over for the last stretch.

Abruptly Michael shuddered and gasped and began breathing heavy. A minute
later, he got out of bed and grabbed a towel out of his closet and went to
his bathroom. As soon as the shower started, Jason yanked my boxers off me
and climbed on top of me. He kissed me and started to grind a very hard
cock into my thigh, "How long d'ya thik he'll bhe in dhere?"  Jason
whispered in my ear.

"Depends on if he falls asleep in the shower," I bemused.

Jason put his mouth on my ear and ran the tip of it smoothly around the
lobe. I moaned unbidden and melted against him.

"Ah knew you were gunna be a tactile guy."  Jason rasped in my ear before
sticking his tongue in there.

My cock was doing all my thinking for me at this moment. Well, my cock and
a butt load of beer and Southern Comfort. I writhed till I was pressing my
ear against Jason's tongue and my legs were wrapped tightly around his
waist.

"Ah knew ya'd be a bottom, too," He said in my ear as a hand reached down
and caressed my ass and thigh.

I'm not sure why, it was probably my drinking my weight in booze, but I
moaned out, "but ... I, I'm a top."

A second later, Jason used his forearm to lift one leg even further as he
reached down and ran a fingertip in small circles on my hole.

"Not tonight ya aren't!"  He said as he started wiggling a finger up my
ass.

I moaned and buried my face in his shoulder as he slid off of me and worked
his finger deeper.

Jason chuckled as he worked his long finger in and found my spot.  "I'm
ready whenever you wanna top," He teased as he got me groaning and writhing
on his finger.

While keeping his finger firmly lodged, he sat up suddenly and reversed his
position. I lifted my head to see what he was doing when his hips suddenly
brought Jason's cock to my lips. It was at this time I felt a warm set of
lips slide over my cock. When I opened my mouth to moan, a skilled set of
hips filled my mouth with an 8-inch cut cock.

After a few minutes of exceedingly talented oral stimulation, Jason worked
a second spit-lubed finger inside me and used his other hand to cup and
play with my balls.

I was nowhere near as talented as Jason. I guessed doing this for a living
necessitates being better then most. But I was totally into everything
happening and really wasn't thinking much.

I gave his cock as good as I could, though, and used my hands to caress his
ass and sides. After a few glorious minutes of intense probing and sucking,
I felt my nuts tighten. I tried to tell him, but his hips kept gyrating his
cock into my mouth. A minute later, I exploded into a wondrously talented
mouth and felt my ass squeezing his fingers.

Despite the booze, I had a mind numbing, ball busting intense ejaculation.

I would have paused a few seconds, but I was being gently
mouth-fucked. Unless I wanted to throw him off, I had no option but to lay
there and make sure to keep my teeth away from him.

As I was preparing for him to reach the final stretch, I began thinking
about how casually he'd swallowed my cum. I was a little unnerved by it. I
decided that even though it would be a nice thing to do, it wouldn't be the
smartest or healthiest. So when the time came and rhythm picked up and his
balls got tight, I rolled him off me onto his side, I then reached up and
jacked him firmly until he exploded all over my face. I saw that as a good
compromise as I licked and sucked his balls the whole time.

After a few deep breathes to recover, Jason reached down and pulled me on
top of him so we were face to face.  Then he moved in as if he wanted to
kiss, instead a tongue came out and he began licking my face clean.

Afterwards, we kissed a little in silence.

"What the hell is taking Michael so long?"  I wondered out loud.

"He was done about 30 seconds after I climbed on top of you. He walked out,
saw us and went to the living room I guess."  Jason said as he kissed me on
the lips. What I had done and what Michael had seen suddenly hit me. I felt
profoundly guilty and deeply ashamed all of a sudden.

Jason obviously didn't feel any of this and scooped me up and spooned me
tightly as we went to sleep.

I lay there and waited for Michael to return, but he never came back in the
room. As I lay there, I thought about what had just happened and why. Was
this proof I was getting over Austin, was it cheating?  It felt a lot like
cheating.

Was it cheating on Ryan? Clearly, Ryan wanted something more. But with his
Michael, what could really happen? And what about Jason? Did he want more?
Was this just drunken fun?

I hated it when the buzz was gone. It was nearly sunlight when I dozed off.

I awoke several hours later when I heard banging in the kitchen and smelled
coffee. Michael wasn't much of a cook, but he made damned good coffee.  And
his eggs and toast were definitely a palatable idea right now.

At first I didn't want to face him but finally the draw of coffee drew me
to my feet and I dressed quickly and exited the room as quietly as I could.

Michael turned and fixed me with a cold unemotional stare. He approached me
and handed me a cup and walked past without saying a word.

After sitting in silence for 20 minutes, feeling an ocean of dread and
knowing that what I had done was beyond tacky, I finally said, "Michael,
I'm so sorry, hon. I didn't mean to chase you out of your room."

Michael didn't say a word. He just retrieved his carafe and walked around
to fill up my cup.

He sat down and took a sip finally then looked up at me and said,
"Whatever, bitch. Next time, I get to be the beaver."



(French Translation)

1 Mon ami, you need to stop, you need to leave him Alex, my dear please,
don't do this.  Alex I'm asking you, for me, don't do this.  Leave him my
love.

P.S. Please don't go writing me letters in French, I had this translated.
All I know is Oui and Moi and Yoplait.  Danke Shon.

Ok, it's finally Out, I was getting nearly as many letters wanting to know
if I inted to finish as I do after I post.  Anyways, I will really try to
get my next chapter out a little sooner.  It's been a crazy few months with
deaths, suicides, and legal problems.  Anyways, it's done finally.

If you wanna write me to say you loved it, you hated it, or give me some
criticism, My email as always is Billytk69@hotmail.com