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The Gold Chain - 3
I admit it, I had been spoiled rotten before Vince Keller. That is to say, I had always got what I wanted through life, even as a kid. I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but neither did I lack for anything of material significance. Until Vince, I hadn't realized that there are very significant things, rather people or more poignantly, relationships that can take a spoiled man like me and turn him into a brooding, impatient, grump.
Steven Latimer's sudden departure had proved once again and inside of just one year that not only can you not have everything you've ever wanted, but anyone you think you might have wanted. Had Vince Keller lived, would we still be together and madly in love or simply had a fling or three and then parted company without a moment's regret?
You see, that's the problem with sudden departures of any kind, Vince's or now, Steven's. Neither man had asked nor wanted to leave me, they just did. I could never now blame or brood over Vince. The dead make no mistakes you see, their memories grow ever perfect over time and then they enter into a bizarre kind of sainthood in one's mind. I know Vince had in mine.
And as for Steven, his departure had me in a state of childish frustration. I had decided to try and make that emergent flight to down under, catch up to him and triumphantly we would fly to Sydney together on a mission of hope and solace for his departed Billy's mum, bursting hand in hand into the hospital to save the day!
I was willing to pay for the ability to do so, I had always had the cash for that sort of thing; but even two fifty dollar American bills was not enough. Oh, the taxi driver drove like a wild video game and made it to the airport, but not in time. I missed Steven's flight by no more than ten minutes.
Worse, I would not be able to talk to Steven in any manner for hours. Vacation over, that was for sure and I decided then that I would make my way back to Seattle, retool and rethink. I wished Steven well and Billy's mum a speedy recovery and all but the whole affair was leaving me wishing, well, wishing that it didn't happen at all!
I called Steve again and again, leaving three or four messages, this all in the first week. Finally, his voice mail was full and rejected further entries and for the first time in my life, I was forced to feel an immature selfishness. Who was more important, me or Billy's mum? The answer is intellectually clear, is it not? Well, tell that to a man who fears that he has fallen head over heels literally overnight for another man and refuses to admit it.
But admit it he must otherwise why did I start to want to seek anonymous sex with almost anyone, just to get even? Get even? At Steven? Absurd! Ridiculous childishness! But it was all too true. Then when he did finally return my call only to have to report that Billy's mum had remained in a coma and on a ventilator for two weeks, and then died, in his arms no less, one could hardly imagine my mega-chagrin.
He tried to be apologetic, but I finally rose to the occasion and wouldn't let him. He sounded tired and told me he felt as if Billy had left him all over again. I felt like a complete worthless idiot for having thought the things that I did about him or us and reassured him that I was thinking about him but without risking the four letter word.
"I'll try and call again soon, but all hell has broken loose over here. Beatrice had money and now the vultures have descended and she put me in charge of her estate. It won't settle soon Rich, I'm sorry mate."
He hadn't even invited me to fly over and help or at least be with him. Would I have gone over if he had asked? You bet I would, but I trusted that the non-invitation was a warning to not expose me to the kind of bitter and dirty infighting that can attend the disposal of a well monied estate.
It was finally at that point that I had to let it go and Steven with it, at least for the time being. I was not in control as I wanted. I could not schedule Steven's appearance, hell I couldn't control how many times his voice or image would pop into my mind like I now could, Vince's.
* * * * * * * * * *
I but rarely frequented any of Seattle's gay bars or entertainment venues. I used the excuse that it was not me, I was too old for that kind of thing, when really, I felt that I was too good for anyone in those places and that cruising guys in bars was a sign of weakness of character.
I did love art however and decided one afternoon to check out a part of Seattle that had a concentration of galleries. Who knew? Maybe I'd see something that I wanted to buy to gussy up my place.
That is where I met Cameron, in one of the galleries while looking at an odd sculpture made of very smooth marble. I was looking at it, and this younger man came up next to me,
"I give up. What does it represent?" he asked. I looked over at a very cute guy, black hair, short cut and clean shaven. I liked the look. His voice had a lilt in it. He was gay, no doubt, but it didn't bother me at all. I thought my voice very masculine.
"Well, as you can see, the shape of the marble along with the color represents … I have no fucking idea!" I said making a small joke of it, kind of out of character for serious me.
He chuckled, "Me either. I've been looking and looking for something for my apartment for an hour now and am tired of it."
I had no pick-up lines that I liked, much less used. Despite my threats, I had not had sex with a man since Steven weeks before. I assumed that this guy standing next to me must have found me at least interesting and he wasn't walking away.
"Me too and I just got started. How about instead of an art piece, I take you home with me?"
This huge departure felt scummy around the edges much less saying it in an art gallery.
"I was hoping you would ask! I'm Cameron."
* * * * * * * * * *
I don't often go for guys with a lot of hair on their bodies, but Cameron's dark curls did not bother me in the least. He was single, twenty-two and not interested in relationships or so he said. He was a bank teller and from the Seattle area as well, his parents standard middle class. And, he was experienced.
When we got to my place that night, all he asked was, "top or bottom?" and I said, "You bottom, me top, at least to start" and off to the races we went. I'll give Cameron one thing for sure, he knew how to please, loved the idea of having me fucking his brains out, but didn't hesitate to try and give me a good lesson in turn-about as well and did.
I had not had a dick up my ass in several years, but Cameron took his time and fucked the living daylights out of me and then he politely put himself together, up and left just afterwards,
"I don't do sleepovers, this is sex, not love!"
I appreciated his candor and gave him my phone number, he did not give me his. It would mostly likely just be another one of my many one night stands … only it wasn't.
Cameron Garcia called me again and again and again. We fucked at my place, we fucked at his place and somehow, he just grew on me or something. I didn't feel like I loved Cameron, we were just fuck-buddies I guess. Whatever it was, it worked and kept working.
Steven did finally call me back (without my prompting!) or at least left me messages. We would talk about the latest Sydney drama when we could iron out the vast time zone differences between Sydney and Seattle. I felt a lot more in common with Steven, much more than with Cameron, that was for sure. Steven was obviously much more mature and had a ton more serious life experience more similar to mine, Cameron did not.
My work was transitioning to more local work and reducing travel. That was fine by me, not to mention Cameron had this network of gay friends, most of them single and one night, Cameron took us to a party, I drove. It was hosted in a private home near to Seattle's Beacon Hill district.
I'll say one thing for Cameron, he had good taste in friends with good taste. The eye candy was dense and generous in return. I caught several younger guys casting glances at me, good for me! But what good is such a gathering of pleasant to look at men without something else happening?
It did and as usual fueled by a very potent vodka spiked punch, I found myself at 1 AM in a bedroom, naked with Cameron and three other of his naked friends in a very hot but odd five-some. I had done one threesome once, but nothing as posh as this. Let's see, besides me and Cameron was Armand, Michael and a stud-muffin named Terry.
Armand was dark, sultry and very sexy. Wow, his dick was larger than mine and I have a big dick. Terry was the prototypical athletic type, friendly, but irreparably self-centered. Then there was Michael, Michael Spence.
I don't know why, but I found myself attracted to Michael. Maybe it was the way that he kind of wanted everyone to be happy and ended up getting not as much for himself as he probably would like and not because he wasn't good looking. He ended up leaving us and going outside to smoke a cigarette and I found myself following him. By then it was 2:30 AM.
"Some party huh?" he said, blowing out a lung full of smoke casting a glance at me. I didn't smoke, but kind of found other guys who did a little sexier because of it.
"Yea, I need to get home. I drove Cameron here but I think he's gonna stay until morning."
"You shouldn't drive. I saw how much you drank tonight."
"No, you give me your keys and I'll drive you home," dropped his cigarette to the ground and held out his hand.
I was both a little taken aback and charmed. I gave him my keys.
"Don't worry, I'll sleep on your couch. You DO have a couch, don't you?" he asked.
I grinned, "Yes Michael I do."
Michael was a waiter in a very nice Seattle restaurant which kind of explained how he seemed to want to make sure others were more happy or satisfied than himself, at least on the surface. On the drive to my place he talked about how he and Armand used to be together and then he and Terry and Terry with Armand or Cameron with this or that guy and on and on.
For me, I was not one to judge, but it sounded like typical gay culture and young gay lifestyle in particular, something I had not experienced and didn't care to now at my age. Nonetheless, I appreciated Michael's attention and promised to make sure he got to his apartment the next morning.
"Oh, that's OK, I'll catch a bus," he replied to my offer.
Nothing happened between us at my place although I wouldn't have minded if it had. I drove Michael back to his apartment the next morning and found out which restaurant he worked at. Nice guy, I hoped to see him again, actually.
* * * * * * * * * *
My impatience with Steven was growing. My phone calls with him now seemed shorter, fewer and less personally engaging instead of longer and more meaningful. I knew he still had problems to iron out in Sydney but things kind of got a lot worse when I called and another young Aussie voice answered,
"Davy here! Who's this then?"
"Um … Rich Moss … this IS Steven Latimer's number isn't it?"
"Oh yea, sure. Rich, right! Sweet-cakes here said you might be calling … here he comes, hold on!"
Davy Henderson was as Steven put it, "a new mate," "just a friend," "yea, we've fooled about, haven't you?"
OK, I felt let-down and disappointed even though nothing that Steven had said or done was any of my business or wrong. If he had a "new mate," as he put it, that was none of my business and I set about in my mind to set any possible relationship with Steven completely aside and move on.
Mature, right? And it made me feel that I was back in control, captain of the ol' ship "Rich Moss," I was! Only this Davy Henderson kept calling me to report this and that about Steven's progress and then imagine my surprise when he announced that THEY were coming to visit me in Seattle in just two weeks hence!
How could I refuse? I could admit that I missed Steven terribly, but him bringing Davy confused me. Was I naïve? Was Davy a boy-toy to buffer against his lost feelings for me or for Billy or what? Maybe he never felt anything between us and this was just a friendly visit.
No matter, two weeks later found me at Sea-Tac International Airport. I greeted Steven with a hug and a kiss on the temple and he seemed genuinely very happy to see me. As for Davy Henderson, eighteen, very hot and turns out very horny as well!
"Come on mates, let's have a cuddle together, hey!" and that was just shortly after we got to my place and I got he and Steven just inside the door.
"Davy, don't be rude, he's just kidding Rich."
"No, I'm not!" Davy clarified.
No, we did not have a cuddle, not then anyway. It was already much later in the day than I had planned which was to surprise Michael Spence by showing up with my Aussie guests and without reservations at his employer's uptown restaurant, Mr. Kline's.
Mr. Kline's maître d' was going to be irritatingly slow to seat us until Michael spied us and seemed genuinely happy to see me, actually. We got seated quite quickly then, Michael was our waiter and I introduced my guests.
Davy behaved himself, mostly, but it was Michael who surprised me when after our spectacular meal he took me aside as we left and whispered,
"Invite me over Rich! Is Davy available to spend a little time?"
I chuckled. I rationalized that I had no time to have talked to Steven about Davy and was not about to assume anything about anyone. Michael should not be invited over. It could cause problems, right?
"Sure Michael! How about tomorrow night?" I said and felt like I should have been spanked for even thinking it, much less ignoring my good common sense.
I give credit to Steven however. After we got back to my place, he politely asked me if we could sleep together during their visit, but Davy had to sleep on the couch. Davy wasn't too happy with it, but had no choice. I agreed and instantly felt better about the whole Davy-Steven thing. Apparently they were just mates and this was not some love affair.
"So, tell me about Davy," I finally got to ask Steven, bedroom door closed, Davy left out in the front room with the refrigerator and T.V. control in his fist.
"It's not what you think Rich, he's a friend of a friend. He got put out on the street by his father after he came out to him. I took him in and just brought him along on a lark. I came here to see you mate, I missed you. It's been insane back home, but finally settling."
I still felt badly for what I had been thinking about Steven and Steven with Davy but was not about to spoil the moment with regrets,
"I miss you too Steve, but enough talk huh, how about that cuddle, but just you and me?"
"Hoping you would ask!" he grinned and our lips were pressing together a few moments later.
There were not a lot of firsts left in my prolific and varied love life, but this was one of them. Ever had sex with somebody you really want, love or even just like and it's been weeks or months? It turns out that reunion sex is the best sex ever!
Steven and I went to town and I mean in a kind of Sydney vs. Seattle competition of who can do what to whom and on who's terms! At first it felt kind of angry, I imagined he at Billy's mum's family for having put him through hell and kept him away from me, I at Steven for not putting me first, then at myself for being such a bitch about it all even if it was just in my mind.
When you're angry with a lover you actually can fuck-it-out, at least that's how we seemed to be doing it. Oh, another first. I had never been the first one to be fucked when there hadn't been any.
Steven bested me, tricked me really! We kissed and tongued and did that hot 69 thing we had done at the resort long before and got down to some serious rimming of each other's backsides when he just up and flips me over onto my tummy,
"I've been wanting to do this ever since we met!" and then covered my prone naked body over with his, his thick hard dick sliding quite menacingly up and down my ass crack!
"Wanting to do what!?" I asked like a complete naïve neophyte.
"Why this of course!" and then he started to try and penetrate me without even asking.
At first I panicked, mainly out of inexperience and then realized who it was who desired my derriere and suddenly I just relaxed and let it happen.
Talk about a revelation. Yes, I had been entered before, but I never felt possessed by the other person if actually still very much in control at all times. Well, I was not in control, Steven was. I could feel the difference now even if I had not before.
"Yes, that's it Rich, oh yesss!" and his mouth found mine even as his pelvis and mine were starting to really dance together.
He fucked me, hard and long and I loved it and hated it when he finally had to pull out having filled me up, not once mind you but twice!
I ended up on my back, he on top still, us kissing for a long while until I came up for air,
"That was fucking fantastic Steven! Were you really thinking about doing that to me all … "
And quite abruptly my less than perfect bedroom door latch gave way and there stood a completely naked and aroused Davy Henderson.
"Oh! Sorry mates! Well, now that the door … accidentally opened … how about I join in and we … "
"How about you close the door before I come over there and kick your bloody arse!" Steven said in a voice that just boomed across the room and made me grin the silliest grin of my life!
"Oh! Right! Sorry," and the door closed, tightly this time.
"Wow, guess he won't try that again," I said with just a tinge of regret. Davy did look spectacular naked and all boned up.
"Oh yes he will, but now is not the time," Steven smiled warmly down at me and I sensed the change in venue and jumped on it.
"No, now it's my turn to bring things to even!" and I took over! My, isn't versatility the way to go now-a-days? I think so.
Steven took my cue and turned himself over and we went at it again, this time with me on top. The results were identical physically and a strange feeling of equality of purpose and hopeful inevitability swept over me as we ended up side to side kissing, hugging and just being there with each other.
We lay there together and talked until our eyelids and Steven's time zone fatigue set in. He brought me up to speed on the sad affairs over Billy's mum's death and I was honest with him and told him how frustrated I had become, even using the word "resentful."
For whatever reason, I felt that I could be honest with Steven and not hold back or pull punches. He felt like a "life's too short for games and the people who play them" type of guy. I wasn't wrong.
"Don't blame you mate. I was sick of them, and of being by myself. Davy helped a little, but not a lot. He's too young. He's fun to have around, but not as a permanent mate."
I looked at Steven, my eyelids getting as heavy as his. Permanent mate? Was that Aussie for what I thought it might mean? Was he serious? Might this just be a reunion overreaction?
I swallowed and realized that fatigue was no time to research something that needed fully awake attention,
"Do you want to go out to eat breakfast in the morning or shall we eat in?" I asked for lack of courage, a little doubt and a lot of fear.
"You choose Rich. Let's have nice cuddle and let the sleep fairies dust us over, hey?" Somehow Steven's quaint saying fit.
I was grateful for the respite and knew he understood. I nodded, we kissed and then I spooned Steven Latimer from Sydney in my bed in Seattle.
As sleep took over, I wondered about tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that and would things last between Steven and I or was this just another side journey on a yet to be discovered path through life?
Goodness, since when had I become so reflective? I blamed Steven and hoped to continue to blame him for things for a long time to come.
To Be Continued …
© Copyright PJ Franklin September 26, 2010
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Last updated: September 26, 2010