Reclaiming Austin
By:
William Tyler King
(Copyright 2005-2007 by the author)
The author retains all rights. No reproductions
are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Chapter 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'arr?r, 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.
To be
continued...