Friends, Sexcapades, And Love Affairs Ch. 14
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2020 Laura S. Fox
All Rights Reserved
Gay Erotica
Intended for Mature Audiences Only
This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong
language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.
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Chapter Fourteen I'm
Not Okay
Adrian stole a look at
his phone, made a move to grab it, and then decided against it. There were only
minutes until Edward would call, but he still felt impatient. What was wrong
with him? He had had that one in the bag, so to speak, only to be kicked out
the door after the deed. Did he want a relationship with Edward, after all?
With such an unconventional man?
He used to think of
himself as free and unconventional, too, but this impatience, right now, told a
different story. Throughout the day, Adrian had dreamed of Edward, with his
eyes wide open. Now he was supposed to focus on work and not on what Edward
would say or how his voice would sound like when he eventually called.
There had been no phone
call on Sunday, and that because Edward had told him that obligations slumped
him. But now it was Monday, and the clock was crawling slowly toward seven pm.
The waiting was killing him, and Adrian had partly decided to spend more time
at work only so that he could keep his mind busy.
Edward was pretty
addictive. Adrian shifted in his chair and then decided to stand and walk
around for a bit and stretch his legs. He didn't have to close his eyes to
picture Edward waiting obediently to be fed a healthy dose of cum. Adrian felt
even a fit of small anger growing. What kind of relationships had Edward been
in before him? The pervert that he was, he must have experimented with all
sorts of things. Adrian wanted to believe that he was unique, and Edward had
even said something to that extent. Still, he didn't want to fall into the trap
of a false sense of security.
Edward could call
everything off with the snap of his elegant fingers, and Adrian didn't want to
think of what it would mean. For years, after Alexander, he had guarded himself
so well. And now, he cared again, and the thought was unsettling.
As long as he believed
himself to be in control, it was all right. With Edward, two nights ago, it had
felt like that. Adrian had felt like a winner, a conqueror entering a
surrendered city. But the keys to the kingdom weren't in his pocket. Edward had
eluded him with practiced ease, despite their hot lovemaking.
Only thinking of that
made Adrian want to slap his cock, and not in the fun way. Was it okay to let
himself care? Edward wanted a partner to play with, not a boyfriend, not even a
lover in the traditional sense. What was he getting himself into?
The phone rang, and
Adrian almost jumped on it, but then he reconsidered. He took two seconds, and
then, as if he was slightly surprised by the call, he picked up.
"Is it seven already?" he
asked in a voice he hoped was both relaxed and charming.
"So says my watch. Are
you still at work?"
"You know, some of us
still have to work for a living."
"Your situation leaves
nothing to be desired, or so I understand."
"I can't complain. I love
my work. What about you?"
"I love my work, too,"
Edward replied in a playful voice.
"I know you do. But you
don't have to slave your life away; it's a matter of
choice with you."
"Do I sense a hint of
jealousy? Trust me; you shouldn't care so much about all that."
"It's easy to say when
you have a frigging grand staircase leading to the first floor."
"Ah, I see. You can't
help but tease me. Why are you pissed, as you would say, Adrian?"
"I'm not pissed."
"I can sense you are."
Adrian moved the phone
from one ear to another. "You kind of left my dick hanging in the wind."
"I recall letting you
leave only after being completely satisfied."
"You're not a sex
expert," Adrian retorted. "You can't know that."
"Or is it that the source
of your dissatisfaction comes from a different place?" Edward talked as if he
mused to himself.
"Stop psychoanalyzing me.
You're not a shrink, either."
"But I'm in charge of
your wellbeing, and, right now, I know for a fact that you are discomforted."
"Discomforted? Pissed
sounded better."
"I thought so. Come on,
Adrian, say it. What's eating you?"
"You sent me home like I
was a booty call."
"You're a bit above
that," Edward teased him.
Adrian was beginning to
feel more irritated. "Oh, so I am that."
Edward laughed at the
other end. "I see that you're getting all hot and bothered over how I treated
you. But it could not be helped, Adrian. My obligations --"
"What obligations? Stop
being so secretive. After seeing The Awakening, I don't think anything else
could shock me."
"I'm afraid my
obligations are the opposite of that. They involve dull, tedious affairs. On
Sunday, I visit my family, and I entertain some of their guests. I am always
required unless I have some emergency to take care of."
Adrian felt himself cool
down a bit. He hadn't seen his parents in a while, so he needed to commend
Edward on being such a dutiful son. Maybe he could call his mom and dad later;
they were on a cruise, somewhere, having fun, as they deserved.
"All right. I get that.
So when do I see you?"
"This weekend."
"Fine." He didn't know
what else to say. If he insisted for them to see each other sooner than that,
he would just sound childish, and he might just annoy Edward.
"Dream of me, Adrian.
I'll surely dream of you," Edward promised with a low, sexy chuckle.
That made Adrian smile.
All right, so maybe Edward wasn't that difficult to turn into a real boyfriend
if need be. He just had to play the game and get better at it so that he could
beat his opponent.
***
Something was not right,
Mike could tell, as he looked at the data coming in. His diagnosis tools were
trying to calm him down, but he knew the signs of a cyberattack when he saw
one. He could try to reroute the traffic, but he wasn't particularly sure that
it would work. The company needed information to function, and now the useful
information was lost in a sea of spam.
He grabbed the phone and
called the ISP provider. Like on cue, the landline phone on his desk began to
ring. People must have started to notice, as well. Mike held his phone between
his cheek and his shoulder and reached for the other.
"Yes, I know, it's a DDOS
attack," he explained shortly. "No, miss, I'm sorry, I'm not exactly in charge
of the Internet. Just don't do anything."
Mike put back the phone
and prayed for someone at the ISP provider to pick up. While he tried to
communicate with the tech service, the landline phone lit up. Between
explaining the problem to the tech service guy and trying to appease the people
who needed to do their work, his patience was wearing thin.
As he suspected, the tech
support guy offered to reroute the traffic, and that pretty much meant that all
of it, good or bad, would go into a little black hole. His fingers danced on
his keyboard, as he chose to ignore the angry landline phone, while he
reconfigured the firewall. Unfortunately, the tech support guy wasn't much of
help, which was precisely what he was afraid of.
The alternative was
simple and complicated at the same time. He was just the server guy, after all.
He could just let the ISP provider handle things and sit with his arms crossed.
Or he could try to use his little software that could reroute the traffic to
the cloud, and then he could contain it there and analyze it until the storm
weathered off.
That was a bold move. If
he did it without talking to anyone in the company, he might just put himself
in a vulnerable position. But if he didn't act fast, who knew how many other
things could go from bad to worse?
He needed to call the IT
department. By now, they had to know that something fishy was going on. With a
not so heartfelt thank you, he ended his conversation with the tech support and
grabbed the landline. "Please, don't call here for a while, as I need to get in
touch with the IT department," he said quickly to the angry person on the other
end.
"This is the IT
department. What the hell is going on?"
"We're under attack,"
Mike said.
"Thanks, Captain
Obvious."
Mike didn't know which of
the guys in IT was talking to him, but there were some snotty bastards there.
"Tech support at the ISP provider tells me they could reroute to a black hole."
"Oh, great. Just
fantastic. Did you tell them to stuff their black hole up their holes?" The
snotty bastard laughed at his own bad pun on the other end.
"I need to have
confirmation from above for this."
"We can't do that.
There's a whole bunch of emails and other communication that would go down the
drain, too."
Talking about who was
Captain Obvious now, Mike thought and rolled his eyes. Now there was no time
for useless chatting. "Can you guys give the green light for this?"
The snotty bastard fell
silent. "No, we can't do that."
"All right, so what am I
supposed to do?"
"I don't know. Aren't you
the server guy? This is a server problem. Just deal with it."
The line went dead. Mike
shook his head. So like some people to wash their hands and pretend they had no
responsibility. He called the first upper management number he found on the
list. The person on the other end declined responsibility, as well.
Mike was starting to
sweat. He was lost in a sea of communication problems because he didn't have
who to ask what to do. One after another, the people he kept calling declined
to assume it, telling him that it was his problem to solve, or they just keep
sending him up the hierarchy. But Mike couldn't go for one solution or another
without having some higher-up tell him they agreed to it.
In the end, there was
only one office in the building of those that mattered that he hadn't
called. Ryan's assistant spoke to him in an affable voice, and then he put him
through.
"Yes? Micah?" Ryan's
voice sent instant shivers down his spine. And he also called him by his given
name, which, for some reason, in his mouth, sounded different.
"Mr. Armstrong," Mike
said and then gulped, quite audibly.
"Why are you calling
here?" Ryan sounded puzzled. "Is this because of Saturday --"
"No," Mike said quickly.
The words began pouring from his mouth. The last thing he needed was for Ryan
to recall the events on Saturday. Anything but that.
Ryan listened in complete
silence. "So, what are our alternatives?"
"Rerouting to a black
hole. Only one alternative, so it's not an alternative --" Mike began to
babble.
"Is there an
alternative?" Ryan asked, his voice not one ounce angrier or upset.
Mike hesitated. "There
might be one."
"All right. What is it?"
"It's something I made,"
Mike asked. "I've tested it, so it should work even with large amounts of
data."
"How does it work?"
"I reroute everything to
the cloud, and then I analyze it there so that I can identify the malicious
data."
"Will that save the real
traffic that comes to us?"
"It should," Mike
replied.
"Do it. You have my
permission."
"Thank you, sir."
Mike didn't wait for a
reply from Ryan and got to work fast. There was no time to waste. Was Ryan
still thinking of Saturday? Mike shook his head. Now was really not the time to
think of all that stuff. He had a lot of work to do.
***
He was still deep in work
when he heard someone coming in. "I know, I know, I'm still working on it. The
attack might last for twenty-four hours or so --"
"Have you eaten
anything?"
Mike turned so fast that
the headphones on his head tried to pull him back, their cable entangled, most
probably, around his chair. Why was Ryan there? And he looked his usual
gorgeous self, so Mike felt his throat getting dry like the Sahara
Desert.
"It's almost nine, and
you're still here," Ryan explained as if he was some child. "Have you eaten
anything?"
"Um, I had something --"
Mike stopped, trying to recall when it had been the last time he ate and what
it was. It was Monday, so he probably had the turkey sandwich. He liked to keep
things well organized, and that included his daily and weekly diet. Funny
though, he couldn't recall eating the sandwich or how it tasted like. His
stomach rumbled, suddenly aware of the absence of food.
"I'm going to order
something. What's your pleasure?"
Mike continued to stare
at Ryan, who was getting busy with his phone. "Why are you here?" he asked in a
meek voice. "This will take some time, and I don't know how long it will be.
But the program is already starting to learn so --"
Ryan threw him a look
that made him weak to the knees. Such a good thing that he was sitting. "You've
been working for seven hours straight, Micah."
Again with the name, Mike
moaned internally. Why did Ryan enjoy so much to torture him? "It's my job,
sir."
Ryan quirked an eyebrow.
"It's only us here. You can call me by my name."
"I don't think I should,"
Mike said stubbornly.
"Ah." Ryan seemed to have
forgotten about his phone now and the call he wanted to make. "Then it's like
I'm your boss, and you must do everything I say, right?" As he said the words,
Ryan made a small gesture with one hand to illustrate that whatever it was, it
had to remain between the two of them.
Mike couldn't imagine
telling anyone about what he and Ryan had. Not that they had much. And he would
actually tell Jared and Adrian if anything happened. No, nothing would
happen!
"Your lips move in a
funny way. I'm your boss, and I'm ordering you to call me by my name and to
eat. How is that?"
"Thank you, but --"
"No `buts'. It looks like
you're saving the company from quite the pickle. Can you identify where the
attack has come from?"
"That would be difficult.
Right now, saving the real data is more important. And I hope that my program
will learn some interesting things so it can recognize the patterns next time
it happens."
"Your program, you say."
"Yes." Mike looked down.
"It seems to work and since you didn't want to go with what the IPS provider
wanted to do --"
"It wasn't an accusation.
Actually, I'm very impressed. And glad that you're here, working for this
company."
Mike just nodded.
"I'm going to order
something healthy and filling. You continue to do your thing. And I will be
quiet. You won't even know I'm here."
Mike turned toward the
screen of his computer without a word. He knew Ryan was there; he could smell
his sexy cologne, and even sense the air displacement where he stood. Focusing
on the task at hand would be so difficult, now.
***
Ryan seemed genuinely
interested in what Mike explained as they ate. It was easier than he thought to
keep the communication between them at a professional level. Of course, it
served that he didn't look at Ryan at all.
"I'm sorry if I let you
down," Ryan said out of the blue.
"It's okay. I understand
everything," Mike replied while keeping his eyes down.
"Are you always this
accommodating with your lovers?"
Mike snickered. "What
lovers?"
"Don't tell me you're a
virgin."
"No, of course
not."
He could feel Ryan's
steady gaze on the crown of his head.
"So, are you going to
reply or what?"
"Um, I don't know what to
say. Wait, what do you want me to say?"
The program was working
his magic, so he could allow himself this little break.
"I want you to say exactly
what's on your mind. Leave nothing out." Ryan's voice was still a tad playful,
but not as much now.
"Getting through this
attack is on my mind," he replied, hoping for an easy way out.
"You know what I mean.
Have you thought of me since Saturday? Because, stupid me, I've only thought of
you."
Mike shifted in his
place, but he still didn't look up at Ryan. "That's not fair. You decided to
break things off. Not that we had ... things," he hurried to add. "We had
nothing."
"We had that magical
evening when you took me to that romantic cocktail bar."
"And the dance on the
roof," Mike added, without thinking.
Ryan moved and placed one
hand over Mike's wrist. It was warm, and Mike could feel his pulse quickening.
"I can't seem to take you out of mind. I was trying hard to push any thought of
you away, and then you called to tell me about this situation."
"I had been trying anyone
else for minutes until I got to you," Mike replied. "I didn't bother you on
purpose."
"I'm glad that you did.
But, for a second, I thought that you were doing something foolish and brave by
calling me. I thought you called me to tell me what a coward I was."
"That's not what I think
of you."
"You should. What is it
about you, Micah?"
"Could you please, not
call me that? It sounds kind of intimate." Mike hoped his voice didn't quiver.
He had little to no control over the beating of his heart.
"It's maybe because
that's what I want to be intimate with you."
Mike shook his head.
"Your reputation is at stake. I don't want to be the one responsible for
ruining it."
Ryan sighed audibly.
"Then my reputation is, indeed, in good hands. I'm the only one at fault for
pining over you when you obviously are okay with the situation as it is. It's
all right. I guess it will come to pass. I'm sorry. I have no idea why I'm
saying all these things."
Ryan curled his fingers
around Mike's wrist and used his thumb to brush over the place where the pulse
could be felt.
Mike pulled his hand
free. "I'm not okay," he said quietly. Ryan didn't say anything, and Mike
thought he might not have heard him. So he looked up and stared at Ryan. "I'm
not okay."
Who moved first? Mike
wasn't sure. But he was soon in Ryan's arms, and their lips connected, drawn by
a supernatural force. Now he was okay. Ryan squeezed him tightly, and Mike
followed his lead, angling his head to make sure that their kiss was as deep as
they could handle.
Ryan broke the kiss and
looked at him. "I don't know what I'm doing," he whispered and let their
foreheads touch.
"I do," Mike whispered.
Maybe he was possessed
when it came to Ryan. Maybe he was a bit insane, and he was putting both of
them at risk, trying to pull such a thing at work. If anyone walked in on them,
they would both be in trouble.
But he couldn't think of
all that. Right now, the only thing that mattered was to grab Ryan and kiss him
forcefully. He was overly aware of how clumsy he had to be, but he couldn't be
bothered with that, either. There was a small shaking in his hands as he tried
to open the buttons on Ryan's shirt. Underneath that fabric, he would find
everything he needed, the man he had been dreaming of for the last weeks.
Ryan steadied his
frenzied attack by grabbing his wrists. Of course, this was wrong. No, he was
wrong to assume anything.
Then Ryan kissed him again,
and his worries melted like snow in spring. This kiss wasn't the hungry one
from earlier. It was sweeter and subdued, and it made his mind spin. When it
ended, they stared into each other's eyes.
"I can't ask anything of
you," Ryan said softly.
"You can ask everything
of me," Mike replied, feeling stubborn. He didn't move his eyes away.
"It would be wrong."
"It wouldn't be."
"I thought I was your
boss, and you were supposed to kiss my ass," Ryan said, his eyes warming
up.
"I would kiss your ass
for hours," Mike let out, and then he blushed. The stupid things he found
himself saying. Ryan's kisses were like a shot to the brain. He couldn't think
clearly and, apparently, anything could leave his mouth without censure.
"I would do the same with
you," Ryan said back.
The ping from the
computer, letting him know that the program needed him broke the magic. Mike
shook his head and hurried back to his battle station. He couldn't look at Ryan
now, so he pretended to be more interested in what happened on the screen than
it was necessary.
Ryan placed his hands on
Mike's shoulders, massaging them slowly. "You are a great person, Micah. I'm
glad I met you."
"But we can't do this,"
Mike added.
"I know."
"I need to work on this,"
he said. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then blinked fast. He
needed to chase away the annoying moisture in them.
"I'm glad you're my
employee, too. It's great for the company," Ryan said. "Never leave us, okay?
Will you promise?"
He couldn't promise that.
His being employed there was what made things so complicated. But, against his
better judgment, he nodded.
Ryan ruffled his hair and
then placed a small kiss on the crown of his head. For a moment, Mike felt his
resolve weakening. One moment in life, he could be foolish, screw the
consequences. But, as he debated with himself, Ryan moved away. The door opened
and closed very slowly as if Ryan didn't want to bother him at all.
***
"This is not exactly the
kind of place we usually hang out," Jared pointed out, as soon as they were
inside and took place at a table.
"I'm trying to get out of
my comfort zone," Mike replied.
"Ah, is it because of
Ryan? What happened?"
The rhythmic song blaring
over the speakers and the dancers on the ring singing along and not exactly in
tune made for quite a noisy atmosphere. But it was a Wednesday, Mike wanted out
of the house, and as much as his choice had surprised Jared, he had to admit
that the place had its charm.
They grabbed two pints of
beer and took place at a tall table. Watching the dancers was comfortable from
that vantage point, and it was as if the people there put on a free show for
the bystanders. Jared found himself tapping his foot to the rhythm of the
music.
Mike drank from his pint
and grimaced. Jared laughed. "Hey, it was your choice. Is it really bitter?"
"Clearly more bitter than
whatever I've ever put in my mouth."
"Come on, don't avoid it.
What happened with Ryan?"
Mike sighed. "We kissed
again. He told me he had been thinking about me, and, you know."
"I don't know if you're
not telling me. Have you told him that you consider finding another place to
work?"
"I don't consider it,"
Mike said right away. "Yes, I do. But I need to take small steps, like coming
here. And he wants me to stay and work for the company."
"Ah, so you told him of
your intentions."
"No. I just helped with a
problem, and Ryan was glad, and, well, he told me never to leave the company."
"And the part where you
two kissed, when did it happen?"
"Just a bit earlier in
that conversation."
Jared shook his head.
"Even if he told you to stay, that doesn't mean that he won't be glad if you
make this move so that you can be with him."
"I don't know how to tell
him this. I'm afraid that it would be too bold of me to go to work somewhere
else. And what if I make a mistake? What if Ryan is not, you know, the one?"
"Frankly, Mike, I think
being more open to change would do you good. Okay, don't do it for Ryan's sake;
do it for yours. You have potential. I know you're a good coder."
"You don't know the first
thing about that." Mike snickered.
Jared rolled his eyes.
"Yes, I know, I'm the artistic type in our little group. But you're the guy who
knows how to code, even if I don't know exactly what you're good at. Maybe you
should try freelancing as I do."
"It would be too scary
for me," Mike said.
"Well, then it's good
that we're here, drinking the most bitter beer I've ever tried, and watching
people dance. It's new, and it's good for you."
Jared let his eyes travel
over the dancers. A tall guy, in a cowboy outfit, seemed to be the star on the
dance ring. His partner, a young woman who appeared to be completely smitten
with him, was trying hard to keep up while he showed her some moves.
Jared watched the dancer
and took another sip from his beer. Damn, the guy was really too on the nose
with that outfit. He even wore boots, and the shiny buckle in front drew
Jared's attention on more than one occasion. All right, maybe it was also
because those jeans were really tight, and Jared could tell that the guy was
packing some real heat; it was that why he was staring so insistently.
The song stopped, and the
dancers took a breather. Jared continued to stare at the cowboy, who was now
engaged in quiet conversation with his partner. He wore his checkered flannel
with his sleeves rolled up, and Jared couldn't help but notice the sinewy
forearms. Clearly, he seemed to be a fan of physical work. Without having a
thing for that Brokeback Mountain look, Jared had to admit that the outfit
looked good on the guy. When he slightly turned, Jared bit his lips
unconsciously. That was quite a scrumptious behind, what he was looking at
right that moment.
He shook his head. He
wasn't there to ogle straight men in cowboy dress. Maybe just a small extra
peek because he was curious about the guy's face, too. Since he had worn his
hat low while dancing, the cowboy's face had been obscured. Jared looked up
when the man turned again as he shook hands with people.
Coincidence or not, the
cowboy was looking straight at him, and their eyes met. Only for a second,
because Jared quickly looked away. He had a feeling staring at a man in such a
place would not score him points. The one thing he needed to do right now was
to swear off men for a while. The last fiasco was still too fresh in his heart
and mind.
Not that he even
considered having anything to do with the sexy cowboy. In the short seconds
their eyes had met, Jared had registered a few things, such as a strong jaw and
thick eyebrows shadowing a pair of dark eyes. From that distance, he couldn't
tell much else, but the cowboy looked like someone who spent a lot of time in
the sun. He had that rugged look about him, something of a Marlboro Man in him.
Mike was nursing his
beer, and he seemed lost in thought. Jared felt instantly guilty. He placed one
hand on Mike's shoulder. "You know, Mike, it's best if
you do everything in your own time. Don't allow anything or anyone to pressure
you. I'm glad you took me here tonight. Even though this beer is undrinkable if
you're asking me."
"Thank you, J. You must
still be hurting after Chris, and you're still the one to comfort me because I
can't make up my mind about what I really want."
"I think you know what
you want. And it's good that you're thinking of getting out of your comfort
zone."
Mike seemed to ponder over
something. "Would you think badly on me if I met with Ryan, you know, in
secret?"
Jared grimaced, but he
tried to smile. "You wouldn't be happy this way, Mike."
"I know," Mike moaned.
"But, I want him so much."
Jared was about to start
comforting Mike again, when someone bumped into him from behind, making the
table shake. The beer pints lost their balance, and their content splashed
everywhere, including on his favorite t-shirt.
Annoyed, Jared turned,
decided to give the clumsy patron a piece of his mind. He froze for a second as
he stared into a pair of dark eyes he had seen just earlier. The cowboy smirked
at him. "So damn sorry about that. Can I buy you, boys, another round?"
Jared had no idea what
irked him all of a sudden. The guy looked as if he could hold himself on two
feet just fine. After all, he had been dancing until earlier. So that couldn't
have been an accident. Maybe the cowboy had heard them talk, and just thought
it would be a good idea to make fun of them, two gay guys in a place like that.
"No, it's all right," he
replied in a clipped voice. "We were just leaving, anyway. Mike, let's go."
Mike didn't protest at
all. Maybe it was for the better that they didn't have to force themselves to
drink that foul beer, Jared thought.
"Hey, don't leave on my
account," the cowboy drawled.
Jared stared at him, now
completely annoyed. The dark eyes were glinting with mischief. Jared felt like
he wanted to punch the guy in the nose; it looked like others might have felt
the same, because it was clear the anatomic part in question had been broken
before. Not that it made the cowboy less charming. He had that appeal of a man
who usually got away with anything, in particular in his relationships with
women. There was both grace and strength in how he held himself.
"We're not leaving on
your account," Jared said, making sure to pour as much acid as he could in his
voice. "We're just leaving, period."
"Ah, that's too bad. And
I ruined your t-shirt, too. Can I get your number? I should pay for the dry
cleaning."
"It's a frigging
t-shirt!" Jared didn't know he could have a short fuse, but it looked like that
uncouth cowboy was meddling with his electric system. "It doesn't need dry
cleaning!" Mike pulled at his elbow. "Mike, let's go."
He marched out, with Mike
hanging from his arm.
"Come by again," the
cowboy called after him.
Jared didn't turn to
shout his reply. "Not in this life!"
He had no idea he had it
in him to be this not-nice person. It was completely new, and it felt a bit
liberating. Mike was still pulling at his elbow once they were out in the
street. "Sorry about that, Mike. The guy just got seriously on my nerves. And
now I'll have to take the smell of that nasty beer out of my t-shirt. Can you
believe people like that?"
"Jared," Mike said, his eyes
wide.
"Hey, don't look so
scared. I wouldn't have gone into a fight or anything."
Mike just shook his head.
"I'm not scared. But I think that cowboy really wanted your phone number."
"What? No way! He was
just trying to get on my nerves. He must have heard us talking, and probably
thought himself clever with that prank."
Mike snickered. "J, it's
so not like you to be this dense. That's usually my area of expertise. That guy
was looking at you as if he wanted to eat you. You know, in a good way."
Jared stopped. "Nah, you
must be imagining things."
"I'm not," Mike said
stubbornly.
"All right, so maybe he
wanted to make fun of the gay guy who landed by accident in his bar or
something. That must have been it. He danced all the time with some girl."
"Ah, so you noticed him!
He must have noticed you back."
Jared had to admit that
the cowboy hadn't seemed aggressive at all. The look in his dark eyes had been
playful, sort of come-hither. No, he shook his head; now, he was the one
imagining things. The guy was attractive, but that didn't mean anything.
"We should just head back
home and catch some sleep."
"He really liked you,"
Mike said with conviction. "Oh, look, he's coming."
Jared turned only to see
the cowboy jogging toward them.
The man tipped his hat. "Sorry
about earlier. My friends told me it would be the perfect pick up line. They're
a bunch of assholes when they want to be. So, here's how I usually do it." He
offered his hand. "I'm Shane."
Jared stood there without
saying a word. Mike nudged him. He shook his head and offered his hand, too.
"Jared."
"Nice to meet you,
Jared." Shane held his hand for a while.
He then offered his hand
to Mike, too, but he only shook his curtly.
"Here is my number,"
Shane added and gave Jared a napkin on which a number had been written down in
thick, blocky lines. "Just in case you change your mind about that dry
cleaning." And then he winked at Jared like that was supposed to be reparation
enough for that t-shirt. "Sorry about ruining your night. I hope you guys will come
again. Have a good evening."
With that, he jogged back
to the bar, leaving a much flabbergasted Jared behind. It was indeed a sight to
watch him go.
"Didn't I tell you?" Mike
began to talk excitedly. "He really digs you!"
"Whatever," Jared said.
"I'm not in the mood for a new complication right now. Cowboy wannabes named
Shane sound like quite the complication to me."
Mike picked the napkin
from his hand, folded it carefully, and then stuffed it into Jared's right
pocket. "There. Just in case you change your mind about complications."
No, he wouldn't change
his mind about complications. It wasn't like him to move on so fast, not that
he had any experience with relationships, except for whatever had happened with
Chris. He sighed, and Mike squeezed his shoulder. "You know, that guy was a
total asshole. At least, there's a bright side. You're not the one married to
him."
Jared burst into
laughter. That was, indeed, a relief. All he had to cry over was some two-week
relationship or so. It did count as a long one, compared to the fleeting flings
he had had in his life. "You know, Mike, maybe I'm not meant to have a
relationship right now. Maybe I should, you know, just have fun for a while, no
strings attached."
"Will that fun include
calling a certain handsome cowboy?" Mike nudged him playfully in the
ribs.
Jared snorted. "I don't
think he's my type."
Mike snickered. "You two
were eye-fucking each other just earlier. I could sense the electricity."
"There was no
electricity," Jared protested, but he had to admit to himself that he felt
flattered at the thought that a handsome man like that could be interested in
him. But he was beyond that. Just as flattered, he had felt when Chris had
hooked up with him the first time, and where had that taken him? No, this time,
he would be a lot more careful. He wouldn't be the kid with stars in his eyes
dreaming of a relationship.
"I'd say it was."
"I won't ever come back
here, so there's no chance to see him again."
"You have his number,"
Mike pointed out. "Maybe the best solution, as they say, is to get back in the
saddle. Oh, the saddle. I just made a pun. Because he's a cowboy and all that."
"He dresses like a
cowboy. That doesn't mean that he's one," Jared said.
"Well, he looks the part
quite well."
"There are no farms
around here, so he can't be a cowboy."
"Maybe he's just
visiting. And that's your chance for a fling," Mike continued. "I think that's
what they prescribe on those relationship advice sites."
"Mike, I think this is
another case of you getting things a little bit wrong. What advice would that
be?"
Mike shrugged. "What if
Shane is here only for a few days? There's nothing for you to lose. You can
meet him, hop back in the saddle, and then kiss him goodbye. Like literally."
"How come you're so shy
in your relationships, but you're pestering me to have a one-night-stand with a
sexy cowboy?"
"Ah, so you like him! And
it's easier to give advice than follow it. It's just that he seemed to like
you, for real. It seemed all genuine."
"Well, I'm not going to
fall twice for the same trick. I thought Chris liked me for real, as well. And
look where that got me."
"It's not fair to judge
all the guys by taking Chris as the measuring dick. Oops, I meant stick.
Measuring stick. Did I make another pun? It must be that awful beer. I had half
of it, I think."
Jared patted Mike's back.
"Then you're a true hero. I couldn't manage more than one sip or so."
He couldn't consider
jumping back in the saddle so quickly. It wasn't like him, despite his bravado
about having fun and all that. Maybe he would just throw away Shane's number
when he was back home, and Mike couldn't see him do it.
***
Jared was busy gathering
his pictures from the wall. He had just been part of an event gathering young
photographers, and, in his book, it had been a bit of a success. As a
freelancer, he needed to network, at least once in a while, and there were
occasions he could use, like this one, to create new connections.
Also, it felt nice to
have his name out there, even if along with others. Chris was wrong. He could
make a name for himself without any help, especially not from a man who
considered him a side piece and nothing more.
"Jared Boyle?"
He turned at the sound of
that voice. For a few moments, he stared at the stranger, a handsome man in an expensive
suit. There was something familiar about him, but Jared didn't know where he
had seen him before or whether there was just some uncanny resemblance to
someone he knew.
"Yes," he replied.
The mystery was cleared
right away. The stranger offered his hand. "Andrew Reeves."
Now Jared knew precisely
where he had seen the man before. He pursed his lips and ignored the extended
hand. Maybe he was petty, but if what Chris had said to him about having an
open relationship was true, Jared wanted nothing to do with Andrew
Reeves.
It hurt that he was so
handsome, too. His curly hair was just a tad too long to be considered
business-like, but not completely rebellious. Just as the night he had seen him
the first time, Jared thought he had something of a classic beauty in him. Why
would Chris go out and try to have fun on the side when he had such a man at
home? His manner seemed polite and charming, too.
The hand withdrew. "I
must apologize for my husband."
Jared turned and
continued to take the pictures down, reining in with difficulty the need just
to rip them from the wall, stuff them in his bag, and storm out.
"You know, you made quite
an impression on him," Andrew continued. "It's not often that this happens with
Christian. He's quite pretentious."
Christian. Pretentious.
Of course, Andre must have known his husband a lot better than Jared had
managed over the short time they had seen each other. No, not seen; they had
just fucked. He continued to remain stubbornly silent in the hope that Andrew
would take the hint and then a hike.
"I just want you to know
that he didn't mean any harm."
Jared felt his jaw
hurting. This time, he turned, and said through his teeth, "Oh, I think he
meant everything he did and every word he said."
And he did harm me. Jared
left those words unspoken.
Andrew put his hands up
in a gesture of appeasement. "He should have told you about me."
"Right. Preferably before
he took me to bed." Jared had a mind to use more harsh words, but it wasn't the
right place for that, and it wasn't like him to throw nasty words around,
anyway.
"I can see why he likes
you," Andrew said, and he appeared amused.
"Of course. I look like
an easy lay," Jared said in a low voice.
Andrew quirked an
eyebrow. "You don't know the first thing about being married, Jared. Routine
can become annoying. It can kill passion."
Jared threw the gathered
pictures on the table in front of him and then crossed his arms over his chest.
"And yet, some people manage to remain married all their lives without cheating
on each other. I wonder how they do it."
Andrew chuckled and
shifted his weight from one foot to another. Maybe that conversation was not
easy for him, either. Jared wondered what Andrew really wanted.
"He told you the truth
when you two last spoke on the phone."
"Too late," Jared
replied. "The moment he tricked me into sleeping with him --"
"Tricked you? What are
you? Twelve?"
Jared swallowed thickly.
He had a feeling that Andrew and Chris deserved each other. "No, I'm not
twelve. But let's just say that married men shouldn't go around, pretending to
be single, just so that they can score with someone other than their spouses."
Andrew seemed a bit taken
aback by the tone of his voice. "He told me you were pretty desperate to get in
bed with him. Maybe you just ignored the signs."
Jared turned to the
remaining pictures once more. His head was hurting already. "I assumed I was
dealing with an honest human being. Rest assured that I won't make the same
mistake again."
Andrew released an
exaggerated sigh. "You're young, and you're overreacting."
"Why are you here?" Jared
asked, ignoring the other's arrogant attitude.
"I wanted to know you."
"Tough luck, then. I'm
not interested in knowing you."
"Hmm. Chris does like the
most the ones with an attitude. Why were you alone the night Chris met you?"
"Well, that's none of
your business."
"Let's say that it's my
educated guess that you couldn't score, as you say. So the moment someone paid
you any attention, you jumped right into it, without thinking of the
consequences for a moment."
Jared made a conscious
effort to breathe. The nerve on that guy was fantastic. He tried to ignore how
those words pulled at his insecurities, threatening to unravel them all. "All
right, whatever."
"And you're flippant,
too."
"It must be part of my
charm." Jared had finished taking all the pictures down, but he didn't want to
turn and face Andrew. He had a feeling he would jump to strangle him.
"Too bad. Let me give you
a little piece of advice. If you want to have fun in this life, drop the
attitude."
Jared shook his head. All
his time with Chris, he had tried to be nothing but understanding and
accommodating. And now Chris's husband was there, hurling insults at him, and
accusing him of being the opposite of that. But it was all right; he could take
a deep breath and ignore everything. "Are we done here?"
He took his pictures and
stuffed them in his bag, without sparing Andrew another look.
"It looks like it. You're
a pretty boy, Jared, but pretty looks alone won't get you far in life. It's how you use them that counts."
Suddenly, it struck
Jared, what had pushed Andrew to come to meet him like that and then insult
him. There was an undertone of jealousy under all that arrogance. "Are you
talking from experience?" Jared looked directly at Andrew.
From up close, he noticed
a few things this time. Andrew seemed to be in his forties, like Chris, but his
face was a bit too puffy if he looked carefully. Could it be that he was doing
Botox shots already? What kind of person in their right mind did that at such a
young age? And his lips were curled into an ugly smile that took from the
handsomeness of his face.
Suddenly, he felt pity.
He sighed and hiked the bag on his shoulder. "I would wish you and Chris all
the best, but I don't think that would be appropriate."
Andrew seemed pretty
pissed now. Maybe he didn't like to have some things said back to him. "Oh, to
be young and naοve," he hissed. "Do you think you can land another man like
that? In your lifetime?"
"It's okay," Jared said
promptly. "I can live with the thought. And I'm pretty glad you landed Chris,
and not me."
He pushed past Andrew,
ignoring the annoyed huff that followed. That had been one hell of a
conversation, and now he needed to breathe in some fresh air.
To think that he had been
so gullible! Jared focused on his breathing as he marched out of the building.
As much as it felt like he had done pretty well, especially at hiding what he
truly felt, and how Andrew's words hit a little bit too close to home, he was
drained now.
But, seriously, what was
all that nonsense that he couldn't land a partner to sleep with? That was
bullshit. At the same time, Jared thought as he slowed down his pace, there was
a part of the blame he shared, although he wouldn't admit it to an arrogant
bastard like Andrew or Chris. He had gotten too fixed on the idea of having a
boyfriend. At his age, who did that?
All right, so Adrian was
sort of in a relationship, and Mike was pining over his boss, but where was
he, Jared? Apparently, he was nowhere he felt good to be. And maybe Mike was
right, and he needed to get back in the saddle, if for no other reason than
that he needed to prove himself that he wasn't undesirable.
He knew that Andrew had
said those words to hurt him. If he were smart, he would just let it slide. But
all of a sudden, he needed the confirmation that he could be with someone
because he wanted to be and because there were people interested in him.
There was no moment like
the present. Without overthinking things, he pulled the folded napkin from where
he placed it in his bag for safekeeping.
"Hi there," Shane
drawled.
Jared froze. What was he
doing? Was he going to say? Why hadn't he thought this through? What was he
supposed to say? Hey, are you ready for a
romp in the hay?
Now there was no turning
back. If he cut the conversation, he couldn't ever call Shane again without
having explanations readily at hand. "Hi," he eventually said.
"Who is this?"
`Nobody' didn't sound
like a good answer. "It's Jared. You ruined my t-shirt," he explained in a clipped
voice, which he hated right away. He sounded like such an asshole.
"Ah, Jared." At the other
end, Shane perked up right away. "Are you in the mood to get together?"
Straight to the point.
Jared felt a bit like taken for a ride by an ocean wave. He could just decline,
but then, why had he called in the first place? "Sure. Right now?"
"Yeah."
Jared couldn't believe
himself as he listened to Shane. It looked like the guy already had a place in
mind. At least, it wasn't the one with the awful beer.
TBC
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