Living together in the same apartment, sharing the same bed, was a serious commitment for Triston, Darrell, and Bobby. No one made an advance, touched or grabbed unless it was expected and usually communicated before it was done. They weren’t there for the sex. They weren’t in a monogamous relationship, it was something else, a friendship. They could talk all night long but they were also comfortable with awkward silences. Each of them was in the bed for his own reason.
For Darrell it was sobriety, dependency, and preoccupation, the little annoyances and distractions that made him fill his day with something else. It had gotten bad two years before he moved in with them. He had his own apartment in that section of town that sounded like a bachelor’s neighborhood.
Drinking on the weekends became drinking every night until he had a collection of bottles in the cupboards of his kitchen instead of dishes, along the counters, and windowsills.
Sometimes they had a utility by holding candles but afterwards, after he decided to detox, go to AA and quit, well they were a reminder. He hated the sound they made, bottle against bottle, grinding as he carried them by the brown paper bag full, two or three in each hand to the dumpster where he set them to the side. They were gone the next day, collected by one of the city’s many homeless, someone had hit the mother load. He could smile about that minimal good that came from his habit, his indulgence, no his suffering.
When you drink for the good times is one thing but when you drink for silence that’s something else entirely different, he thought. He had been a functional alcoholic, no one ever caught on to his self-abuse. He’d sober up in the first few hours of work, drink a couple coffees until he felt ready for his afternoon meetings. How could no one have known?
Maybe they didn’t want to know. Or maybe, just maybe, people are more self-absorbed than he thought and no one could identify his problem, least of all his mother. He didn’t tell her how bad it had gotten, just that he had decided to give it up and he was going to A.A. She just smiled at him, hugged him.
But even sobriety was his new secret, especially why. He didn’t want to relive those moments alone, sitting in the bathtub, on his back, and other impaired judgments including sex. He had gotten lucky. But he considered his best luck to be when he met Triston through a dating website.
They had exchanged emails, IM messages, exchanged numbers, and gotten together for coffee. It was over two black coffees that he confessed that he was looking for friends and not lovers. Triston invited him to the apartment he already shared with Bobby. The cabinets were bare, there were condiment packets in the refrigerator.
They talked for hours on the couch until Bobby came home, then they talked for another hour before he realized how late it had gotten. When they invited him to stay the night he thought to refuse, to dismiss them and leave, but then he thought about his long walk home and his empty bed.
Sometimes, he reasoned, you can trust someone. Triston was someone that if ever he felt a spiritual connection it would be with him. Talking was easy. He could imagine not talking to him for years, meeting up with him, and finding the same comfort.
That first night was awkward. He worried about where his hands and feet ended up. He worried about who was touching him and where. There was just enough space between them. He fantasized about cuddling together. He wanted to hold someone. Bobby was more his type but he thought Triston would have been the most open to it. But he couldn’t bring himself to say anything that first night.
It came out over breakfast when they recognized he didn’t seem to have slept well. Triston forced the conversation because he said he was worried about Darrell not returning. It was one of those conversations no one wanted to have and yet it benefited everyone. It was cathartic.
After that conversation he couldn’t imagine spending another night alone and he didn’t want either of them to leave.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Ch 14 - Bring Unto Me
Three men in the bed during winter kept them warm all night long. But it was the morning when it felt too good for any of them to want to get out of bed. They were usually up by 6:30 in the morning, but even if they had to get up to use the bathroom each of them returned to the bed and got back under the covers.
On Saturday mornings if Spencer stayed over he ended up in bed with them sometimes, especially when it was cold.
Shoulder to shoulder the four of them stared up at the ceiling.
“Did you know Walter wears a diaper?” Darrell asked.
“Yeah,” Triston replied. “We tried it out one night. It was his idea. He saw it online and wanted to see what it was like.”
“He wore it when he took me to my mother’s place to help her. It was kind of weird.”
“How did you find out?” Bobby asked.
“By accident when he was filling the car tire with air. It was right there peeking out at me. I thought it was funny at first but then it started to worry me.”
“Did you say anything?”
“I had to say something, but I tried to be polite. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to be weird for my mother. He was really nice though, made it easy. She liked him.”
“That’s good,” Triston said. “That reminds me, he wants to have a birthday party here.”
“Birthday party? What are we talking about?” Darrell asked.
“Two weeks from now, on a Friday, he wants to have a sleepover,” Triston said.
“Sleepover? Like we’re twelve years old?” Darrell asked.
“Like we’re friends, male friends, all hanging out together. There will be drinks and snacks. He wants to have a marathon of some kind. Either a television show or some movies, maybe horror movies.”
“Sounds kind of lame,” Spencer said.
“He doesn’t have any friends. I thought it would be okay. It’s a Friday night.”
“Just remind me,” Darrell said.
“I’ll probably be there,” Bobby said.
“Are we getting him presents?” Spencer asked.
“Something small, if it’s not too much,” Triston said.
“Maybe some more diapers?” Darrell asked.
Everyone fell silent at the question, at the dilemma. Each of them had not known Walter very long. He was likable but young, unpredictable. There was a shift from person to person, a movement of a hand, a foot, but a like minded comfort.
“I got a new job,” Bobby said.
“What? Where?” Spencer asked.
“The Unicorn, I’m going to be a stripper slash go-go boy,” Bobby said.
“It makes sense now,” Triston said.
“What’s that?” Bobby asked.
“Why you’ve been going to the gym more these last two weeks. I thought it was your new boyfriend. How is he? Are you going to tell him?”
“No commitments,” Bobby said. “I’m going to tell him, eventually, but there’s a lot of things he doesn’t know, like about us, this.”
“What’s wrong with this?” Spencer asked.
“A lot of people would be confused,” Darrell said.
“So, dancing around in your undies? What made you interested?”
“I think it will be fun. It’s a good way to make cash and I don’t plan to ever run for public office in my future. Plus, I mean I have enough selfies online that are just as revealing.”
“Besides by then it will be no big deal. Eventually we’ll have a female president who posted pictures online of herself doing bong hits and keg stands,” Darrell said.
“Exactly,” Bobby said.
On Saturday mornings if Spencer stayed over he ended up in bed with them sometimes, especially when it was cold.
Shoulder to shoulder the four of them stared up at the ceiling.
“Did you know Walter wears a diaper?” Darrell asked.
“Yeah,” Triston replied. “We tried it out one night. It was his idea. He saw it online and wanted to see what it was like.”
“He wore it when he took me to my mother’s place to help her. It was kind of weird.”
“How did you find out?” Bobby asked.
“By accident when he was filling the car tire with air. It was right there peeking out at me. I thought it was funny at first but then it started to worry me.”
“Did you say anything?”
“I had to say something, but I tried to be polite. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to be weird for my mother. He was really nice though, made it easy. She liked him.”
“That’s good,” Triston said. “That reminds me, he wants to have a birthday party here.”
“Birthday party? What are we talking about?” Darrell asked.
“Two weeks from now, on a Friday, he wants to have a sleepover,” Triston said.
“Sleepover? Like we’re twelve years old?” Darrell asked.
“Like we’re friends, male friends, all hanging out together. There will be drinks and snacks. He wants to have a marathon of some kind. Either a television show or some movies, maybe horror movies.”
“Sounds kind of lame,” Spencer said.
“He doesn’t have any friends. I thought it would be okay. It’s a Friday night.”
“Just remind me,” Darrell said.
“I’ll probably be there,” Bobby said.
“Are we getting him presents?” Spencer asked.
“Something small, if it’s not too much,” Triston said.
“Maybe some more diapers?” Darrell asked.
Everyone fell silent at the question, at the dilemma. Each of them had not known Walter very long. He was likable but young, unpredictable. There was a shift from person to person, a movement of a hand, a foot, but a like minded comfort.
“I got a new job,” Bobby said.
“What? Where?” Spencer asked.
“The Unicorn, I’m going to be a stripper slash go-go boy,” Bobby said.
“It makes sense now,” Triston said.
“What’s that?” Bobby asked.
“Why you’ve been going to the gym more these last two weeks. I thought it was your new boyfriend. How is he? Are you going to tell him?”
“No commitments,” Bobby said. “I’m going to tell him, eventually, but there’s a lot of things he doesn’t know, like about us, this.”
“What’s wrong with this?” Spencer asked.
“A lot of people would be confused,” Darrell said.
“So, dancing around in your undies? What made you interested?”
“I think it will be fun. It’s a good way to make cash and I don’t plan to ever run for public office in my future. Plus, I mean I have enough selfies online that are just as revealing.”
“Besides by then it will be no big deal. Eventually we’ll have a female president who posted pictures online of herself doing bong hits and keg stands,” Darrell said.
“Exactly,” Bobby said.
Ch 13 - DL Isn't Just for Down Low
“Before we get on the road I want to make sure I got the right air in my tires,” Walter said.
“It’s your car,” Darrell said.
He was trying to keep his cool about any small thing because his car was in for repairs and he needed to visit his mother. Walter had not only offered to drive him but help him to move her furniture as well.
Walter pulled off the highway and drove to the nearest gas station where he pulled to the air pump. Darrell watched him for a moment as he shifted to park, turned off the car, retrieved the pressure gauge from the glove compartment, got out, and began to check the air in the tires. He decided he would get snacks and got out as well. He walked to where Walter was crouched.
He watched as Walter worked the gauge skillfully before he stepped closer to ask him if he wanted any snacks when he spotted the young man’s shirt was riding up his back, his jeans were open, and he took the opportunity to see his underwear when he spotted something he wouldn’t have expected. He spotted the puffy, shiny band of a diaper.
Darrell was shocked by what he saw but also amused. He had never heard about Walter having any bowel problems, no this was something else. He wanted to laugh out loud, wanted to say something, make a comment, but he stopped himself. He decided to ask what Walter wanted from the store instead.
“Nothing thanks,” Walter said.
Darrell turned and walked away to the store. He made his way inside and to the back where he laughed to himself. But as funny as it was he was having second thoughts about taking the young man to his mother’s home. What if he did something weird? What would she think of him? How could he explain he knew Walter without being his friend or worse, his lover?
As much as he worried about being there with Walter he worried more about his mother being upset about him not visiting after he had to miss the previous weekends because of work and being hungover. No, he had to go, but maybe he could make some rules with Walter or make a deal with him.
Darrell made his way to the clerk where he paid for his items, then back out into the sun and to where Walter leaned back against his car. It wasn’t obvious from the look of his jeans that Walter was wearing anything but he knew, had seen them, and he couldn’t help but think about them. He thought about the road trip and the woman who wore diapers so she wouldn’t have to stop while driving across country to kill someone.
Walter got inside the car and for a moment Darrell thought he heard the squish of the diaper. He looked to the young man who looked back at him.
“What?” Walter asked.
Darrell took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t going to say anything. I mean I don’t usually care what people do but we’re going to see my mother.”
Walter stared at him as Darrell gathered his courage.
“Are you wearing a diaper?”
Walter’s face turned red and he looked away.
“Why are you wearing a diaper?”
Walter shrugged his shoulders.
“Why are you wearing a diaper today?”
“I like them. Okay?” Walter said.
“I’m trying not to judge you. Why today? Why now? You’re driving me to my mother’s to help me move furniture.”
“I don’t know. I just felt nervous and they make me feel better.”
Darrell regretted the next thought that came to his mind but he figured he would be in the car with Walter for an hour each way, plus any time they spent together at the house moving furniture.
“You’re not going to shit yourself are you?”
Darrell felt as shocked at his own question as he could tell Walter looked. He wanted to take it back. He wanted to excuse himself, apologize, and yet there was some reality to dealing with a situation. Walter was young, impulsive and he didn’t know him very well. Darrell felt worse when he saw Walter’s body get tense as if he were about to cry.
“I’m sorry,” Walter said.
“What?”
“I fucked up. I’m sorry. I just, I don’t know, got used to them. I can take it off.”
Walter looked to Darrell and Darrell looked away, he suddenly felt worse.
“It’s your car,” Darrell said.
He was trying to keep his cool about any small thing because his car was in for repairs and he needed to visit his mother. Walter had not only offered to drive him but help him to move her furniture as well.
Walter pulled off the highway and drove to the nearest gas station where he pulled to the air pump. Darrell watched him for a moment as he shifted to park, turned off the car, retrieved the pressure gauge from the glove compartment, got out, and began to check the air in the tires. He decided he would get snacks and got out as well. He walked to where Walter was crouched.
He watched as Walter worked the gauge skillfully before he stepped closer to ask him if he wanted any snacks when he spotted the young man’s shirt was riding up his back, his jeans were open, and he took the opportunity to see his underwear when he spotted something he wouldn’t have expected. He spotted the puffy, shiny band of a diaper.
Darrell was shocked by what he saw but also amused. He had never heard about Walter having any bowel problems, no this was something else. He wanted to laugh out loud, wanted to say something, make a comment, but he stopped himself. He decided to ask what Walter wanted from the store instead.
“Nothing thanks,” Walter said.
Darrell turned and walked away to the store. He made his way inside and to the back where he laughed to himself. But as funny as it was he was having second thoughts about taking the young man to his mother’s home. What if he did something weird? What would she think of him? How could he explain he knew Walter without being his friend or worse, his lover?
As much as he worried about being there with Walter he worried more about his mother being upset about him not visiting after he had to miss the previous weekends because of work and being hungover. No, he had to go, but maybe he could make some rules with Walter or make a deal with him.
Darrell made his way to the clerk where he paid for his items, then back out into the sun and to where Walter leaned back against his car. It wasn’t obvious from the look of his jeans that Walter was wearing anything but he knew, had seen them, and he couldn’t help but think about them. He thought about the road trip and the woman who wore diapers so she wouldn’t have to stop while driving across country to kill someone.
Walter got inside the car and for a moment Darrell thought he heard the squish of the diaper. He looked to the young man who looked back at him.
“What?” Walter asked.
Darrell took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t going to say anything. I mean I don’t usually care what people do but we’re going to see my mother.”
Walter stared at him as Darrell gathered his courage.
“Are you wearing a diaper?”
Walter’s face turned red and he looked away.
“Why are you wearing a diaper?”
Walter shrugged his shoulders.
“Why are you wearing a diaper today?”
“I like them. Okay?” Walter said.
“I’m trying not to judge you. Why today? Why now? You’re driving me to my mother’s to help me move furniture.”
“I don’t know. I just felt nervous and they make me feel better.”
Darrell regretted the next thought that came to his mind but he figured he would be in the car with Walter for an hour each way, plus any time they spent together at the house moving furniture.
“You’re not going to shit yourself are you?”
Darrell felt as shocked at his own question as he could tell Walter looked. He wanted to take it back. He wanted to excuse himself, apologize, and yet there was some reality to dealing with a situation. Walter was young, impulsive and he didn’t know him very well. Darrell felt worse when he saw Walter’s body get tense as if he were about to cry.
“I’m sorry,” Walter said.
“What?”
“I fucked up. I’m sorry. I just, I don’t know, got used to them. I can take it off.”
Walter looked to Darrell and Darrell looked away, he suddenly felt worse.
Ch 12 - Dong Tossing Pt 2
Mostly obscured from the main road Cheryl and Triston parked their cars beside the building to provide the most space to conduct their activity. They had talked briefly with the skateboarders who advised them to not break any glass, not fire any guns, and to not drink. The young men seemed honest and possibly a little friendly.
Triston readied his ballista and Cheryl readied her slingshot.
“What is this thing again?” Bobby asked.
“It’s a ballista. It’s a medieval siege weapon. It’s like a really big crossbow,” Triston said. “We can take turns but I go first.”
They left the trunk open with the dildos piled inside in a nice stack. Triston and Cheryl took theirs out first and readied them in their devices.
“Are we doing this together?” Cheryl asked.
“Together,” Triston said.
“3, 2, 1,” they said, “and fire!”
They each fired their device sending the rubbery toys out into the air. Cheryl’s launched vertically, quivering the most noticeably as it flew but still going the farthest while Triston’s seemed the most dangerous as it hit head first and bounced several feet. Everyone cheered at the inaugural launch.
“Everyone take a turn then we’ll go collect them,” Triston said.
Despite the shortcomings of his device Triston cheered each time they fired a toy, enjoying the absurdity of what they were doing. They were feeling comfortable and on their second turns when the skateboarders took notice and began to approach. The skateboarders had worked up a sweat by then and many of them were shirtless.
“What are those things?”
“What are you launching?”
Walter held the slingshot in the ready position and looked to the other members of his group who looked at each other curiously.
The skateboarders made their way to the back of the cars, amongst the group, the two leaders, the two representatives, who had been sent to talk to them earlier made it closest to the open trunk.
“What are those? Are those dildos?”
“Uh yeah, they’re supposed to be destroyed,” Triston said.
“Where did you get so many?”
“I work at an adult store,” Triston said.
“That’s cool,” the guy said.
“Can we watch?”
Triston looked around to everyone else who shrugged their shoulders or else nodded, then said that they could watch, participate even if they wanted. The guy who had asked reached into the trunk and took out a long toy. He held it at the base, shook it, causing it to vibrate.
“Holy shit, look at this thing,” he said.
Another skateboarder reached in and took out another one. He ran his fingers over the surface, laughing as he did, then gripped it in a similar fashion. He began to swing it through the air like a sword and it wasn’t long before several others picked up their own and began doing the same. They took turns stabbing at each other and pretending to have sword fights.
“So, uh, are you guys like gay?” one of them asked.
“Yeah,” Triston answered.
“That’s cool, Alex over here is gay.”
Triston looked to Alex who looked to the ground as his face turned red with embarrassment. He wasn’t sure if the young men were joking but somehow it didn’t matter. It wasn’t long before they got back to launching the toys. It was easier with more people.
In all of the activity the groups merged together, separated, and were back together again, each talking with a member of the other. They took turns launching the phallus shaped objects, laughing and cheering, competing even.
Eventually the fun began to wear thin, especially for Triston, Darrell, and Bobby who began to worry about their other obligations. After completing one last round they made their way back to the cars and tossed the toys inside the trunk.
Bobby noticed first that someone was missing from his group. He got Triston’s attention who did a quick count, pointing to each of them. Darrell, Walter, Doug, and Cheryl were right there.
“Where’s Spencer?” Triston asked.
The skateboarders looked at each other, unsure who was who but took an accounting of the members of their own group.
“Where’s Alex?” one of them asked.
Triston readied his ballista and Cheryl readied her slingshot.
“What is this thing again?” Bobby asked.
“It’s a ballista. It’s a medieval siege weapon. It’s like a really big crossbow,” Triston said. “We can take turns but I go first.”
They left the trunk open with the dildos piled inside in a nice stack. Triston and Cheryl took theirs out first and readied them in their devices.
“Are we doing this together?” Cheryl asked.
“Together,” Triston said.
“3, 2, 1,” they said, “and fire!”
They each fired their device sending the rubbery toys out into the air. Cheryl’s launched vertically, quivering the most noticeably as it flew but still going the farthest while Triston’s seemed the most dangerous as it hit head first and bounced several feet. Everyone cheered at the inaugural launch.
“Everyone take a turn then we’ll go collect them,” Triston said.
Despite the shortcomings of his device Triston cheered each time they fired a toy, enjoying the absurdity of what they were doing. They were feeling comfortable and on their second turns when the skateboarders took notice and began to approach. The skateboarders had worked up a sweat by then and many of them were shirtless.
“What are those things?”
“What are you launching?”
Walter held the slingshot in the ready position and looked to the other members of his group who looked at each other curiously.
The skateboarders made their way to the back of the cars, amongst the group, the two leaders, the two representatives, who had been sent to talk to them earlier made it closest to the open trunk.
“What are those? Are those dildos?”
“Uh yeah, they’re supposed to be destroyed,” Triston said.
“Where did you get so many?”
“I work at an adult store,” Triston said.
“That’s cool,” the guy said.
“Can we watch?”
Triston looked around to everyone else who shrugged their shoulders or else nodded, then said that they could watch, participate even if they wanted. The guy who had asked reached into the trunk and took out a long toy. He held it at the base, shook it, causing it to vibrate.
“Holy shit, look at this thing,” he said.
Another skateboarder reached in and took out another one. He ran his fingers over the surface, laughing as he did, then gripped it in a similar fashion. He began to swing it through the air like a sword and it wasn’t long before several others picked up their own and began doing the same. They took turns stabbing at each other and pretending to have sword fights.
“So, uh, are you guys like gay?” one of them asked.
“Yeah,” Triston answered.
“That’s cool, Alex over here is gay.”
Triston looked to Alex who looked to the ground as his face turned red with embarrassment. He wasn’t sure if the young men were joking but somehow it didn’t matter. It wasn’t long before they got back to launching the toys. It was easier with more people.
In all of the activity the groups merged together, separated, and were back together again, each talking with a member of the other. They took turns launching the phallus shaped objects, laughing and cheering, competing even.
Eventually the fun began to wear thin, especially for Triston, Darrell, and Bobby who began to worry about their other obligations. After completing one last round they made their way back to the cars and tossed the toys inside the trunk.
Bobby noticed first that someone was missing from his group. He got Triston’s attention who did a quick count, pointing to each of them. Darrell, Walter, Doug, and Cheryl were right there.
“Where’s Spencer?” Triston asked.
The skateboarders looked at each other, unsure who was who but took an accounting of the members of their own group.
“Where’s Alex?” one of them asked.
Ch 11 - Dong Tossing Pt 1
Triston drove, Bobby was in the passenger seat, Darrell, Walter, and Spencer were in the backseat, shoulder to shoulder. Spencer was having second thoughts about coming along with them on this exercise of immaturity, not just because he was crammed in the backseat but because of what they were going to do.
They were meeting up with Triston’s coworker, Cheryl, and her friend Doug at an old strip mall in Virginia to, of all things, toss dildos. The sex toys, over thirty of them, had been pulled from the shelves for destruction by the manufacturer for their possible toxic elements. Triston and Cheryl had diligently pulled them from the shelves, bagged them, and taken them out to the dumpster where Triston hesitated before throwing them inside. He said that he thought it was a waste and even if they couldn’t be used for the intended purposes there could be something else done with them.
Cheryl and Triston went back inside trying to think of nonsexual things to do with the toys. At first they had thought of ridiculous things like building a monument, then political as they thought about mailing them to bigot, homophobic politicians and preachers but they worried about being arrested for a federal crime of misuse of the postal service.
Eventually someone said something about a dildo flying through the air, and each of them had an idea for how best it could be done. Triston wanted to make a ballista type device and Cheryl wanted to make a simple slingshot using medical grade rubber tubing. Rather than work together it became a competition.
Spencer let out a groan when he felt Walter’s elbow in his side. It wasn’t just going along but being crammed in the backseat of his own car for almost an hour. The last time he had been there was a decade ago and everyone was much smaller then, including Darrell who had gained muscle, if not a little fat since then. He pushed back at Walter’s elbow, unintentionally pushing him into Darrell who groaned and pushed back.
“Hey guys, I’m the one stuck in the middle here,” Walter said.
“Behave yourselves boys or there will be no ice cream,” Triston said.
“Why do I feel like the wife?” Bobby asked.
Walter opened his mouth to speak but as he felt Darrell and Spencer beside him he decided to not say anything, even if it was funny.
“We’re almost there,” Triston said. “There it is.”
Triston pulled into the parking lot and drove over the barely remaining lines of parking spaces, past the buildings and to a back area where he had planned to meet Cheryl. She was there but so was another car.
“Did she bring someone else?” Bobby asked.
“She didn’t say she was going to bring someone else,” Triston said.
He stopped the car and that’s when they all heard it, yelling and the sounds of skateboard wheels on concrete then along a steel pipe. They looked to the corner of a building where a young man launched from a railing to the ground, raised his arms in triumph and skated out before he circled back.
“Well, I have to get out,” Spencer said.
Everyone got out of the car and began to stretch. Cheryl and Doug joined them. Triston and Cheryl began to talk amongst themselves but they were all thinking the same thing, young, male, and skateboarders. They had all imagined there wouldn’t be anyone else at the strip mall and they could carry out their impish, if not childish activity without the judgment of people, especially straights.
“Maybe it’ll be okay,” Bobby said.
“They might just leave us alone,” Spencer said.
“I’ll go see what they’re like,” Walter said.
He walked away from the group, but Darrell feeling a need to protect him followed, then Bobby, Spencer, and Doug leaving Triston and Cheryl together for a moment before they also followed. They walked along the side of the building and reformed into a group at the corner where Walter stopped to make sure no one would come flying by.
At the back of the building was a long run that had been used for loading and unloading, where they stood was stairs with a railing perfect for grinds. Six skateboarders were at the beginning of the long run smoking and goofing around with each other, oblivious until one of them noticed the group.
“Hi there,” Walter said with a little wave of his hand.
The skateboarders talked amongst themselves for a moment before sending two representatives to meet them. The two young men were skinny with baggy jeans that hung loose around their waists. They had tattoos and piercings.
They were meeting up with Triston’s coworker, Cheryl, and her friend Doug at an old strip mall in Virginia to, of all things, toss dildos. The sex toys, over thirty of them, had been pulled from the shelves for destruction by the manufacturer for their possible toxic elements. Triston and Cheryl had diligently pulled them from the shelves, bagged them, and taken them out to the dumpster where Triston hesitated before throwing them inside. He said that he thought it was a waste and even if they couldn’t be used for the intended purposes there could be something else done with them.
Cheryl and Triston went back inside trying to think of nonsexual things to do with the toys. At first they had thought of ridiculous things like building a monument, then political as they thought about mailing them to bigot, homophobic politicians and preachers but they worried about being arrested for a federal crime of misuse of the postal service.
Eventually someone said something about a dildo flying through the air, and each of them had an idea for how best it could be done. Triston wanted to make a ballista type device and Cheryl wanted to make a simple slingshot using medical grade rubber tubing. Rather than work together it became a competition.
Spencer let out a groan when he felt Walter’s elbow in his side. It wasn’t just going along but being crammed in the backseat of his own car for almost an hour. The last time he had been there was a decade ago and everyone was much smaller then, including Darrell who had gained muscle, if not a little fat since then. He pushed back at Walter’s elbow, unintentionally pushing him into Darrell who groaned and pushed back.
“Hey guys, I’m the one stuck in the middle here,” Walter said.
“Behave yourselves boys or there will be no ice cream,” Triston said.
“Why do I feel like the wife?” Bobby asked.
Walter opened his mouth to speak but as he felt Darrell and Spencer beside him he decided to not say anything, even if it was funny.
“We’re almost there,” Triston said. “There it is.”
Triston pulled into the parking lot and drove over the barely remaining lines of parking spaces, past the buildings and to a back area where he had planned to meet Cheryl. She was there but so was another car.
“Did she bring someone else?” Bobby asked.
“She didn’t say she was going to bring someone else,” Triston said.
He stopped the car and that’s when they all heard it, yelling and the sounds of skateboard wheels on concrete then along a steel pipe. They looked to the corner of a building where a young man launched from a railing to the ground, raised his arms in triumph and skated out before he circled back.
“Well, I have to get out,” Spencer said.
Everyone got out of the car and began to stretch. Cheryl and Doug joined them. Triston and Cheryl began to talk amongst themselves but they were all thinking the same thing, young, male, and skateboarders. They had all imagined there wouldn’t be anyone else at the strip mall and they could carry out their impish, if not childish activity without the judgment of people, especially straights.
“Maybe it’ll be okay,” Bobby said.
“They might just leave us alone,” Spencer said.
“I’ll go see what they’re like,” Walter said.
He walked away from the group, but Darrell feeling a need to protect him followed, then Bobby, Spencer, and Doug leaving Triston and Cheryl together for a moment before they also followed. They walked along the side of the building and reformed into a group at the corner where Walter stopped to make sure no one would come flying by.
At the back of the building was a long run that had been used for loading and unloading, where they stood was stairs with a railing perfect for grinds. Six skateboarders were at the beginning of the long run smoking and goofing around with each other, oblivious until one of them noticed the group.
“Hi there,” Walter said with a little wave of his hand.
The skateboarders talked amongst themselves for a moment before sending two representatives to meet them. The two young men were skinny with baggy jeans that hung loose around their waists. They had tattoos and piercings.
Ch 10 - Spanked Boys
“Seriously?”
Darrell nodded.
“What do you think guys?”
“I’m not sure he’d be fair,” Walter said.
“I’m the most fair person here plus I haven’t been drinking,” Darrell said.
“He is,” Spencer said.
“I trust him,” Triston added.
Chad looked to Darrell then to the other men and agreed as he was feeling foolish for what he was about to do yet too full of pride to stop.
“There we have it. Now who’s first?” Darrell asked.
Walter and Chad stared at each other daring the other to go first but Triston interrupted their challenge by volunteering himself. He moved to the bench and lowered his jeans before assuming the position. Darrell picked out a wooden paddle from the wall and told Walter to put the one in his hands back before clearing out the area. He took his stance behind Triston as if he were about to play golf.
“Ready?” Darrell called out.
“Ready,” Triston said.
Darrell whacked him once, twice, three times making Triston moan a little louder with each hit. Chad smiled as he looked to Walter who was biting at his nails. Darrell continued to ten without interruption before Triston pushed himself from the bench and grabbed at his own ass. He massaged his flesh through the fabric.
“Who’s next?” Darrell asked.
Chad volunteered himself before Walter could speak. He wanted to get it over with because he saw people were beginning to notice. He lowered his jeans to whistles and cat-calls, bent over the bench horse and readied himself. A straight man in a gay bar about to be spanked for their amusement, he shook his head.
The first whack didn’t feel like much. The second felt like a force he was unfamiliar with then between the fourth and fifth strikes his flesh reacted. It felt like it was cracking open up his back tearing fissures through the rest of his body and the rest of his skin. But he balled his fist because pain was nothing to fear. He could handle anything. This was just like when his father spanked him, he told himself.
Darrell got to ten then stopped. Chad pushed himself up, picked up his jeans, fastened his belt and turned to the audience, feigned a smile and a wave before he went back to his position beside Spencer. Walter grinned at them before he stepped to the bench and turned to the audience raising his arms getting the crowd to applaud. He turned to the bench and instead of just lowering his jeans he lowered his underwear as well baring himself for everyone to see. Darrell grinned before he touched the paddle to his cheeks. He tapped several times before he pulled back then swung.
Walter took the spanking easily, pulled up his pants and underwear as he stood and encouraged the men to cheer for him again before he went to Triston and Chad to challenge them to more.
“The deal was ten, we all did it, now we have thirty bucks to drink with so let’s enjoy ourselves,” Triston said.
“It’s not fun until someone cries,” Walter said.
“In that case I’ll give you a good spanking,” Darrell said.
“You’d make me cry?” Walter asked.
“Come with me young man,” Darrell said before grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him to the bench.
Walter laughed at the attention he was getting before he pulled his pants and underwear back down and assumed the position.
Spencer looked to Chad who stood with his arms crossed, one hand up towards his face nervously biting at his thumb. He could tell something was wrong with his new friend. He looked to the spanking bench then to Chad. He had been through something. He looked around at the crowd of men who were all enjoying themselves, even Triston was laughing a little.
He moved to Chad but was afraid to touch him so he got his attention then signaled for him to follow which he began to do. Spencer led him out the back of the club to the small, mostly clean alley. They stopped in the darkness, not quite illuminated by any source of light. He wanted to comfort the man. He wanted to hug him, embrace him, tell him kind words but he knew none of that would work. He knew none of that would help Chad. He knew he had to play it cool, keep calm.
“Didn’t expect it to be chilly out here,” Spencer observed.
“Yeah, it’s pretty different out here, kind of cold.”
They stood in silence for a long time before Spencer decided to ask.
“So what is it? What’s going on?”
“Just kind of weird, I mean it was all in jest and everything. I thought I was over it. Being paddled like that, watching Walter getting spanked it reminded me of my father. He used to hit us growing up, my brother and me. He liked to use the belt. It was over fifteen years ago now. I didn’t think it meant anything. It was normal but still. I hadn’t thought about it in so long. Then to see it. It reminded me of this one time I watched him beat my brother and my brother started squirming so he had me hold him by the wrists. I felt so bad but I knew if I didn’t he do worse to me.”
Spencer looked away into the darkness then to the silhouette of his new friend.
Darrell nodded.
“What do you think guys?”
“I’m not sure he’d be fair,” Walter said.
“I’m the most fair person here plus I haven’t been drinking,” Darrell said.
“He is,” Spencer said.
“I trust him,” Triston added.
Chad looked to Darrell then to the other men and agreed as he was feeling foolish for what he was about to do yet too full of pride to stop.
“There we have it. Now who’s first?” Darrell asked.
Walter and Chad stared at each other daring the other to go first but Triston interrupted their challenge by volunteering himself. He moved to the bench and lowered his jeans before assuming the position. Darrell picked out a wooden paddle from the wall and told Walter to put the one in his hands back before clearing out the area. He took his stance behind Triston as if he were about to play golf.
“Ready?” Darrell called out.
“Ready,” Triston said.
Darrell whacked him once, twice, three times making Triston moan a little louder with each hit. Chad smiled as he looked to Walter who was biting at his nails. Darrell continued to ten without interruption before Triston pushed himself from the bench and grabbed at his own ass. He massaged his flesh through the fabric.
“Who’s next?” Darrell asked.
Chad volunteered himself before Walter could speak. He wanted to get it over with because he saw people were beginning to notice. He lowered his jeans to whistles and cat-calls, bent over the bench horse and readied himself. A straight man in a gay bar about to be spanked for their amusement, he shook his head.
The first whack didn’t feel like much. The second felt like a force he was unfamiliar with then between the fourth and fifth strikes his flesh reacted. It felt like it was cracking open up his back tearing fissures through the rest of his body and the rest of his skin. But he balled his fist because pain was nothing to fear. He could handle anything. This was just like when his father spanked him, he told himself.
Darrell got to ten then stopped. Chad pushed himself up, picked up his jeans, fastened his belt and turned to the audience, feigned a smile and a wave before he went back to his position beside Spencer. Walter grinned at them before he stepped to the bench and turned to the audience raising his arms getting the crowd to applaud. He turned to the bench and instead of just lowering his jeans he lowered his underwear as well baring himself for everyone to see. Darrell grinned before he touched the paddle to his cheeks. He tapped several times before he pulled back then swung.
Walter took the spanking easily, pulled up his pants and underwear as he stood and encouraged the men to cheer for him again before he went to Triston and Chad to challenge them to more.
“The deal was ten, we all did it, now we have thirty bucks to drink with so let’s enjoy ourselves,” Triston said.
“It’s not fun until someone cries,” Walter said.
“In that case I’ll give you a good spanking,” Darrell said.
“You’d make me cry?” Walter asked.
“Come with me young man,” Darrell said before grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him to the bench.
Walter laughed at the attention he was getting before he pulled his pants and underwear back down and assumed the position.
Spencer looked to Chad who stood with his arms crossed, one hand up towards his face nervously biting at his thumb. He could tell something was wrong with his new friend. He looked to the spanking bench then to Chad. He had been through something. He looked around at the crowd of men who were all enjoying themselves, even Triston was laughing a little.
He moved to Chad but was afraid to touch him so he got his attention then signaled for him to follow which he began to do. Spencer led him out the back of the club to the small, mostly clean alley. They stopped in the darkness, not quite illuminated by any source of light. He wanted to comfort the man. He wanted to hug him, embrace him, tell him kind words but he knew none of that would work. He knew none of that would help Chad. He knew he had to play it cool, keep calm.
“Didn’t expect it to be chilly out here,” Spencer observed.
“Yeah, it’s pretty different out here, kind of cold.”
They stood in silence for a long time before Spencer decided to ask.
“So what is it? What’s going on?”
“Just kind of weird, I mean it was all in jest and everything. I thought I was over it. Being paddled like that, watching Walter getting spanked it reminded me of my father. He used to hit us growing up, my brother and me. He liked to use the belt. It was over fifteen years ago now. I didn’t think it meant anything. It was normal but still. I hadn’t thought about it in so long. Then to see it. It reminded me of this one time I watched him beat my brother and my brother started squirming so he had me hold him by the wrists. I felt so bad but I knew if I didn’t he do worse to me.”
Spencer looked away into the darkness then to the silhouette of his new friend.
Ch 09 - To Drink
The music was loud.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Chad said above the cacophony. He looked around the bar at all the other men then to his companions: Spencer, Triston, Darrell, Bobby, and Walter.
“To drink,” Bobby said raising his glass.
“Which one of us is the designated driver?” Chad asked.
“Darrell here doesn’t drink,” Spencer said.
“Really?”
“A.A., I’ve been sober for a year now,” Darrell said.
“Congratulations,” Chad said before he took a drink from his glass.
“That must suck,” Walter said. “I hate not being able to drink.”
Darrell looked at Walter then to Triston who shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m going to find someone to dance,” Darrell said.
“Take me,” Bobby said before he hopped off his stool and followed after him.
“I’m going to get something to drink,” Walter said.
“Don’t try to order anything alcoholic,” Triston said.
Walter held up his hand indicating the sticker that marked him as being underage then said, ‘yes dad’ before departed.
“I hope I didn’t ruin anything,” Chad said.
“No, it’s usually like this,” Spencer said. “People come and go all night.”
“I’m going to check on my protege,” Triston said.
Chad and Spencer looked at each other unsure what to say next they sat in silence for a long time. Times like this he would have left the table himself, found someone to dance with or gotten another drink, maybe a trip to the bathroom but he felt obligated to stay and keep Chad company. He was a stranger in a strange land.
“So how’s being a cop?” Spencer asked.
“It’s difficult,” Chad said.
Spencer raised his eyebrows hoping for a story, an anecdote or something amusing but there was silence and he suddenly imagined the conversation between Chad and his wife with her being the one who talked constantly. He thought to say something else but then he saw the look on Chad’s face, the tension in his shoulders. He was trying to be nice, Spencer thought, trying to be brave, but truthfully if someone saw him here, a coworker, there could be problems despite being married and having a ring. He could be mistaken for being on the down low, cheating on his wife, or worse. Walter dispersed his thoughts as he arrived at the table with enthusiasm. Triston wasn’t far behind him carrying a fresh drink.
“I just found out they have a spanking booth,” he said.
“Congratulations,” Spencer said
“Did he tell you? He found out about the spanking booth and now he’s desperate to try it. I told him to wait for another night.”
“He said it would bother Chad here,” Walter said.
“I said it might,” Triston added.
“Wouldn’t bother me,” Chad said. “It’s a little kinky for my taste but go ahead.”
“You wouldn’t be able to handle the pain. All you straight boys are alike,” Walter said.
“Hey take it easy,” Spencer replied.
“I could handle the pain,” Chad said. “I just don’t get off on it.”
“Then prove it,” Walter said.
“What?”
“Prove you can do it and you’re not some prude. I bet you can’t handle five swats.”
“Are you challenging me to a spanking competition?”
“I am now,” Walter said.
“That would be-” he stopped himself.
Everyone thought he wanted to say any of the words that were politically incorrect but he didn’t finish the sentence and instead shook his head.
“Gay?” Walter asked.
“Painful,” Chad said. “I was going to say painful.”
“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” Walter said.
“Ten bucks for ten swats,” Walter said.
“Okay,” Chad replied.
“Come on guys,” Spencer said.
“Sounds like fun,” Triston said.
“No more beer, no more liquor to dull the senses. We’re going to get your ass turned from that pale white to a flaming red,” Walter said pulling out his wallet and opening it.
He pulled two twenties and a ten out and handed them to Spencer as he told him to hold the money. Triston pulled his phone and sent a text message of the important details to Bobby and Darrell.
“Let’s do this,” Chad said.
They walked across the floor of the bar to the far wall where a spanking area had been set up including a bench and several different implements. Walter headed straight for the wooden paddle and picked it up. He began to swing it through the air as if he was giving an imaginary spanking to someone. Spencer and Chad stood shoulder to shoulder as they looked to Triston who bit at his lip.
“Usually there is someone here,” Triston said.
“What’s going on?” Darrell asked interrupting their mutual confusion.
Bobby was right behind him.
“It’s a spanking competition,” Spencer said.
“Really?” Bobby asked.
Spencer nodded.
“Who is getting spanked?” Darrell asked.
“Chad, Walter, and Triston if we can find anyone to do it,” Spencer said.
“I’ll do it,” Darrell said.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Chad said above the cacophony. He looked around the bar at all the other men then to his companions: Spencer, Triston, Darrell, Bobby, and Walter.
“To drink,” Bobby said raising his glass.
“Which one of us is the designated driver?” Chad asked.
“Darrell here doesn’t drink,” Spencer said.
“Really?”
“A.A., I’ve been sober for a year now,” Darrell said.
“Congratulations,” Chad said before he took a drink from his glass.
“That must suck,” Walter said. “I hate not being able to drink.”
Darrell looked at Walter then to Triston who shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m going to find someone to dance,” Darrell said.
“Take me,” Bobby said before he hopped off his stool and followed after him.
“I’m going to get something to drink,” Walter said.
“Don’t try to order anything alcoholic,” Triston said.
Walter held up his hand indicating the sticker that marked him as being underage then said, ‘yes dad’ before departed.
“I hope I didn’t ruin anything,” Chad said.
“No, it’s usually like this,” Spencer said. “People come and go all night.”
“I’m going to check on my protege,” Triston said.
Chad and Spencer looked at each other unsure what to say next they sat in silence for a long time. Times like this he would have left the table himself, found someone to dance with or gotten another drink, maybe a trip to the bathroom but he felt obligated to stay and keep Chad company. He was a stranger in a strange land.
“So how’s being a cop?” Spencer asked.
“It’s difficult,” Chad said.
Spencer raised his eyebrows hoping for a story, an anecdote or something amusing but there was silence and he suddenly imagined the conversation between Chad and his wife with her being the one who talked constantly. He thought to say something else but then he saw the look on Chad’s face, the tension in his shoulders. He was trying to be nice, Spencer thought, trying to be brave, but truthfully if someone saw him here, a coworker, there could be problems despite being married and having a ring. He could be mistaken for being on the down low, cheating on his wife, or worse. Walter dispersed his thoughts as he arrived at the table with enthusiasm. Triston wasn’t far behind him carrying a fresh drink.
“I just found out they have a spanking booth,” he said.
“Congratulations,” Spencer said
“Did he tell you? He found out about the spanking booth and now he’s desperate to try it. I told him to wait for another night.”
“He said it would bother Chad here,” Walter said.
“I said it might,” Triston added.
“Wouldn’t bother me,” Chad said. “It’s a little kinky for my taste but go ahead.”
“You wouldn’t be able to handle the pain. All you straight boys are alike,” Walter said.
“Hey take it easy,” Spencer replied.
“I could handle the pain,” Chad said. “I just don’t get off on it.”
“Then prove it,” Walter said.
“What?”
“Prove you can do it and you’re not some prude. I bet you can’t handle five swats.”
“Are you challenging me to a spanking competition?”
“I am now,” Walter said.
“That would be-” he stopped himself.
Everyone thought he wanted to say any of the words that were politically incorrect but he didn’t finish the sentence and instead shook his head.
“Gay?” Walter asked.
“Painful,” Chad said. “I was going to say painful.”
“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” Walter said.
“Ten bucks for ten swats,” Walter said.
“Okay,” Chad replied.
“Come on guys,” Spencer said.
“Sounds like fun,” Triston said.
“No more beer, no more liquor to dull the senses. We’re going to get your ass turned from that pale white to a flaming red,” Walter said pulling out his wallet and opening it.
He pulled two twenties and a ten out and handed them to Spencer as he told him to hold the money. Triston pulled his phone and sent a text message of the important details to Bobby and Darrell.
“Let’s do this,” Chad said.
They walked across the floor of the bar to the far wall where a spanking area had been set up including a bench and several different implements. Walter headed straight for the wooden paddle and picked it up. He began to swing it through the air as if he was giving an imaginary spanking to someone. Spencer and Chad stood shoulder to shoulder as they looked to Triston who bit at his lip.
“Usually there is someone here,” Triston said.
“What’s going on?” Darrell asked interrupting their mutual confusion.
Bobby was right behind him.
“It’s a spanking competition,” Spencer said.
“Really?” Bobby asked.
Spencer nodded.
“Who is getting spanked?” Darrell asked.
“Chad, Walter, and Triston if we can find anyone to do it,” Spencer said.
“I’ll do it,” Darrell said.
Ch 08 - Take My Husband, Please
Spencer found himself headed to Chad’s apartment feeling nervous and embarrassed for all that had happened between them. He thought about Lucy knocking on the door and her husband Chad. He felt guilty. They were good people.
It was one of those actions he couldn’t justify to himself but found himself doing to see the outcome, to see just why she had stopped by the apartment. He walked down the long hallway to their door and stopped in front of it. He could hear her inside talking to someone, possibly Chad or maybe their daughter.
There was one quick thought to leave it, walk away, and possibly never see them again but he knocked anyway. Three quick raps, he cleared his throat and looked down the hall to where there was a window and a fire escape. He had always found himself curious about fire escapes on buildings when he was little because he didn’t live in the city. He had lived in suburbia.
The door opened and Lucy stood on the other side holding Grace wrapped in a towel. They had clearly come from the bathroom because there was a sweet odor of soap. Grace smiled at him and he smiled back.
“Hello there,” Lucy said.
She pulled the door open and invited him inside. He said hello as he looked around the apartment. The place was a little less orderly than he remembered it.
“You just caught us getting out of the bathtub. Why don’t you let me take Grace to her room then we can talk.”
Lucy walked away not giving him an opportunity to disagree. He looked around their place but didn’t hear or see evidence that Chad was home. He felt worse for having stopped by, for bothering them. He wanted to tell Lucy that he needed to leave. He wanted to tell her he had only a few minutes, that he didn’t know what he was doing there in the first place.
When she emerged from the hallway looking to him with need he found himself disarmed of doubt and want. Instead he suddenly thought about what she needed.
“Chad has been really busy this week and I’ve been job hunting on the computer. We could really use the second income you know, just part-time like teaching or something.”
“Right,” Spencer agreed.
She began to move about the apartment picking things up, replacing things. He thought to join her, help her in some way, but he didn’t know where anything belonged. And he had arrived at the perfect time when Chad was out. He could be back any minute.
“So uh, you stopped by the apartment, downstairs,” he said.
“Oh right,” she said. “I don’t know what kind of scene I walked in on but I have to say that was the first time I saw a grown man in diapers who wasn’t pledging a fraternity.”
Spencer looked away to the window drapes, the window frame, he thought about the fire escape.
“Chad told me where you guys lived and I thought, I don’t know...”
“What?” he asked.
“Well, let me get you a glass of wine,” she said. She moved away to the kitchen before he could decline and she got out two glasses, retrieved a bottle from the fridge and carried it to the sofa where she sat. She signaled for him to sit in the recliner which he did.
“I don’t actually live there,” Spencer found himself saying. “Not that, I mean, I spend a lot of time there but I’m not, you know, I mean I’m gay but...”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “If you only knew.”
If I only knew what, he asked himself.
She poured two glasses of wine. He took one and she took the other.
“Chad doesn’t have many friends his age. He goes out drinking with guys from the force but most of them are older. They harass him a lot for being new and being young. He’s not enough of a hard ass for them. He told me about you guys and I don’t know it just seemed like maybe you could have something in common. He’s really a gentle soul. He reads books and I drag him to the theater. He says he likes it.”
“Uh,” Spencer said.
“He’s probably the gayest straight man you’d ever meet. He’s a what you call it? He’s a metrosexual.”
Spencer found himself at once insulted and humored by her words. He thought about what everyone would say. He thought about them spending time together. Do I have a play date? What could I do with him? I’d like to-- he forced the thought from his mind but it came back again as he thought of the man’s muscled arms-- he smiled.
“What do you think?”
“Sure,” he said. “We could give it a try.”
It was one of those actions he couldn’t justify to himself but found himself doing to see the outcome, to see just why she had stopped by the apartment. He walked down the long hallway to their door and stopped in front of it. He could hear her inside talking to someone, possibly Chad or maybe their daughter.
There was one quick thought to leave it, walk away, and possibly never see them again but he knocked anyway. Three quick raps, he cleared his throat and looked down the hall to where there was a window and a fire escape. He had always found himself curious about fire escapes on buildings when he was little because he didn’t live in the city. He had lived in suburbia.
The door opened and Lucy stood on the other side holding Grace wrapped in a towel. They had clearly come from the bathroom because there was a sweet odor of soap. Grace smiled at him and he smiled back.
“Hello there,” Lucy said.
She pulled the door open and invited him inside. He said hello as he looked around the apartment. The place was a little less orderly than he remembered it.
“You just caught us getting out of the bathtub. Why don’t you let me take Grace to her room then we can talk.”
Lucy walked away not giving him an opportunity to disagree. He looked around their place but didn’t hear or see evidence that Chad was home. He felt worse for having stopped by, for bothering them. He wanted to tell Lucy that he needed to leave. He wanted to tell her he had only a few minutes, that he didn’t know what he was doing there in the first place.
When she emerged from the hallway looking to him with need he found himself disarmed of doubt and want. Instead he suddenly thought about what she needed.
“Chad has been really busy this week and I’ve been job hunting on the computer. We could really use the second income you know, just part-time like teaching or something.”
“Right,” Spencer agreed.
She began to move about the apartment picking things up, replacing things. He thought to join her, help her in some way, but he didn’t know where anything belonged. And he had arrived at the perfect time when Chad was out. He could be back any minute.
“So uh, you stopped by the apartment, downstairs,” he said.
“Oh right,” she said. “I don’t know what kind of scene I walked in on but I have to say that was the first time I saw a grown man in diapers who wasn’t pledging a fraternity.”
Spencer looked away to the window drapes, the window frame, he thought about the fire escape.
“Chad told me where you guys lived and I thought, I don’t know...”
“What?” he asked.
“Well, let me get you a glass of wine,” she said. She moved away to the kitchen before he could decline and she got out two glasses, retrieved a bottle from the fridge and carried it to the sofa where she sat. She signaled for him to sit in the recliner which he did.
“I don’t actually live there,” Spencer found himself saying. “Not that, I mean, I spend a lot of time there but I’m not, you know, I mean I’m gay but...”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “If you only knew.”
If I only knew what, he asked himself.
She poured two glasses of wine. He took one and she took the other.
“Chad doesn’t have many friends his age. He goes out drinking with guys from the force but most of them are older. They harass him a lot for being new and being young. He’s not enough of a hard ass for them. He told me about you guys and I don’t know it just seemed like maybe you could have something in common. He’s really a gentle soul. He reads books and I drag him to the theater. He says he likes it.”
“Uh,” Spencer said.
“He’s probably the gayest straight man you’d ever meet. He’s a what you call it? He’s a metrosexual.”
Spencer found himself at once insulted and humored by her words. He thought about what everyone would say. He thought about them spending time together. Do I have a play date? What could I do with him? I’d like to-- he forced the thought from his mind but it came back again as he thought of the man’s muscled arms-- he smiled.
“What do you think?”
“Sure,” he said. “We could give it a try.”
Ch 07 - The Brat
Triston and Bobby were in the bathroom together getting ready to go out to the bar. Darrell answered the door to find Spencer in the hallway, together they walked into the bedroom where Spencer sat on the corner of the bed checking his phone while Darrell finished getting dressed.
“How did your date go last night?” Spencer asked.
“You mean Walter?”
“How was little Walt?” Bobby asked.
Trison leaned close to the mirror looking for any stray eyebrow hairs. He turned his face awkwardly ready with the tweezers for several seconds before he pulled away and regained his composure.
“I don’t know why we idolize youth,” he said. “He was a regular brat. I got out a few toys and he brought a few of his own. We were playing for quite a while when there was a knock on the door so he gets away from me and goes like he’s going to answer it.”
“Did he?”
“Well,” Triston said.
“He answered our door? What was he wearing?”
“Not much,” Triston said, “but it was no big deal just Spencer’s new boyfriend’s wife.”
“That’s not funny,” Spencer said.
“She kind of thought it was cute,” Triston said. “I didn’t have much of a choice but answer the door as well.”
“What were you wearing?”
“More than Walter,” Triston said.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Spencer asked.
“What does it matter?” Triston asked.
“Yeah, what does it matter?” Bobby asked.
“Because he’s a cop living in this building,” Spencer said.
“I know I feel protected,” Darrell said.
“I should go say something,” Spencer said. “What exactly were you two doing?”
“Do you want to know?”
“Yeah, so I know how embarrassed I should be when I apologize.”
“Let’s just say he was in a jock strap and I was, well I had time to get a towel.”
“Shit,” Spencer said. “I should go say something.”
Spencer jumped up from the bed and walked out. Darrell looked at himself in the mirror to check his hair, dusted off his shirt with his hand. Bobby stepped into the bedroom and pulled off his towel before getting out his own jock strap from the dresser. Triston looked to Bobby’s ass and smiled before returning his attention to the mirror.
“So are you going to date your brat again?” Darrell asked.
“I’m not sure. I’m trying to be low key about the whole thing. It was fun but he’s mischievous. I had to give him a real hard spanking after he answered the door.”
“At least he has the weekend to recover,” Bobby said.
“Speaking of dates how was yours?” Triston asked.
“Uh, I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Now you have to tell us,” Triston said.
“Well, we fucked on the first date and everything went fine. He was great. We fell asleep together.”
“That’s the best,” Triston said.
“Yeah everything was perfect until I woke up the next morning and I started looking around his room and I saw all these pictures of him with different Asian guys. There was like a dozen of them. They were outdoors mostly, hiking or at the beach. They were all fit like me. It was kind of weird.”
“A rice queen,” Triston asked..
Bobby shook his head as if a joke hadn’t landed.
“Don’t say that,” Bobby said.
“Sorry,” Triston said.
“So are you going to call him back? You said the sex was good.”
“Yeah, it was good but I don’t know. It’s like seeing all of those guys. It’s not just that they were Asian it’s that there were so many. It’s like he has a flavor of the week.”
“Maybe he needs some chocolate,” Darrell said rubbing at his own chest.
“Or vanilla,” Triston offered.
They all laughed.
“How did your date go last night?” Spencer asked.
“You mean Walter?”
“How was little Walt?” Bobby asked.
Trison leaned close to the mirror looking for any stray eyebrow hairs. He turned his face awkwardly ready with the tweezers for several seconds before he pulled away and regained his composure.
“I don’t know why we idolize youth,” he said. “He was a regular brat. I got out a few toys and he brought a few of his own. We were playing for quite a while when there was a knock on the door so he gets away from me and goes like he’s going to answer it.”
“Did he?”
“Well,” Triston said.
“He answered our door? What was he wearing?”
“Not much,” Triston said, “but it was no big deal just Spencer’s new boyfriend’s wife.”
“That’s not funny,” Spencer said.
“She kind of thought it was cute,” Triston said. “I didn’t have much of a choice but answer the door as well.”
“What were you wearing?”
“More than Walter,” Triston said.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Spencer asked.
“What does it matter?” Triston asked.
“Yeah, what does it matter?” Bobby asked.
“Because he’s a cop living in this building,” Spencer said.
“I know I feel protected,” Darrell said.
“I should go say something,” Spencer said. “What exactly were you two doing?”
“Do you want to know?”
“Yeah, so I know how embarrassed I should be when I apologize.”
“Let’s just say he was in a jock strap and I was, well I had time to get a towel.”
“Shit,” Spencer said. “I should go say something.”
Spencer jumped up from the bed and walked out. Darrell looked at himself in the mirror to check his hair, dusted off his shirt with his hand. Bobby stepped into the bedroom and pulled off his towel before getting out his own jock strap from the dresser. Triston looked to Bobby’s ass and smiled before returning his attention to the mirror.
“So are you going to date your brat again?” Darrell asked.
“I’m not sure. I’m trying to be low key about the whole thing. It was fun but he’s mischievous. I had to give him a real hard spanking after he answered the door.”
“At least he has the weekend to recover,” Bobby said.
“Speaking of dates how was yours?” Triston asked.
“Uh, I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Now you have to tell us,” Triston said.
“Well, we fucked on the first date and everything went fine. He was great. We fell asleep together.”
“That’s the best,” Triston said.
“Yeah everything was perfect until I woke up the next morning and I started looking around his room and I saw all these pictures of him with different Asian guys. There was like a dozen of them. They were outdoors mostly, hiking or at the beach. They were all fit like me. It was kind of weird.”
“A rice queen,” Triston asked..
Bobby shook his head as if a joke hadn’t landed.
“Don’t say that,” Bobby said.
“Sorry,” Triston said.
“So are you going to call him back? You said the sex was good.”
“Yeah, it was good but I don’t know. It’s like seeing all of those guys. It’s not just that they were Asian it’s that there were so many. It’s like he has a flavor of the week.”
“Maybe he needs some chocolate,” Darrell said rubbing at his own chest.
“Or vanilla,” Triston offered.
They all laughed.
Ch 06 - The Third Wheel
Triston was on the sofa. Bobby and Darrell sat in front of the television cooperatively playing a video game. Spencer was in the kitchen mixing cocktails.
“Hey Triston, I heard you have a date,” Spencer said.
“Friday night and I’m probably going to need the apartment.”
“No problem we’ll just be out drinking and having fun,” Spencer said. “Maybe if we come home early we can see him leaving. What’s he like anyway?”
“Is this the guy you met at the shop?” Bobby asked.
“What’s this?” Darrell asked. “You met him where you work?”
“He came in with some friends. He was the gay one. It was kind of cute. The friends were a heterosexual couple. She was clinging to the guy as they looked at stuff. This guy distanced himself immediately, kept passing by the gay section taking little peeks.”
“How old is he?”
“Legal age,” Triston said. “Nineteen actually, I got to check his photo ID.”
“Spring chicken,” Darrell said.
Bobby elbowed Darrell and laughed a little.
“It was kind of weird. I felt him looking at me the whole time. I’ve had college students in there before but mostly they laugh at the size of the dildos, point at things like the dog masks, but it’s harmless. I can tell they’re more embarrassed than anything else.
“The only ones who usually buy things are girlfriends with straight or bisexual boyfriends but it’s not like they have a lot of money to spend. One time we had some fraternity brothers in there. I think it was a dare or maybe for some hazing party. They each bought a masturbation aid then some other things.”
“Get to the point,” Darrell said.
“My point is that he’s like six years younger than me.”
“Seven,” Spencer said.
“Okay ten years younger than Spencer,” Triston said.
“Hey everyone knows my age,” Spencer said.
“And we still love you,” Bobby said.
“What’s he like?”
“Brave, maybe a little shy,” Triston said. “The couple were hanging on each other and the girlfriend is the one looking. She shows her boyfriend some gay porn and some dildos. I can tell he’s keeping his cool about the whole thing but it doesn’t interest him. The friend though, I can see it’s bothering him. They tried to get his attention but he kept his distance. The couple gets some things: a cock ring, some clips, and lubricant. She pays, takes the bag and her boyfriend out of the store. To make a long story short-”
“Too late,” Spencer said before sampling his drink.
“The friend, my date, is left behind on his own. Finally he picks out some gay porn and a small toy. He’s standing there as I’m ringing it up and I break the ice with some joke. He laughs and I can tell everything is better. He starts to get comfortable with me. We start talking about cartoons. He says he’s watching clips of these ones from the 90’s online. I’m starting to feel old-”
“Too late,” Bobby said.
“Well I was feeling old when he asks me out, like on a date. I don’t know what he’s thinking.”
“He’s thinking you know how everything works,” Spencer said. “Do you remember what it was like at that age?”
“Yeah, but things are different now,” Triston said. “I don’t know. It’s all kind of weird. I mean when I was his age I would have dated an older guy who was my age but I felt mature for my age. I don’t know.”
“You’re officially a creepy old man,” Bobby said.
“When do we get to meet him?” Darrell asked.
“Probably never, I’m going to take it slow with him,” Triston said.
“You have to introduce us,” Spencer said.
Triston thought about what he was going to say for a second before he spoke.
“We’re not even that far apart in age but he probably has all of these preconceptions about sex and kink. There is a lot of good information out there but he could also have some high expectations.”
“Hey Triston, I heard you have a date,” Spencer said.
“Friday night and I’m probably going to need the apartment.”
“No problem we’ll just be out drinking and having fun,” Spencer said. “Maybe if we come home early we can see him leaving. What’s he like anyway?”
“Is this the guy you met at the shop?” Bobby asked.
“What’s this?” Darrell asked. “You met him where you work?”
“He came in with some friends. He was the gay one. It was kind of cute. The friends were a heterosexual couple. She was clinging to the guy as they looked at stuff. This guy distanced himself immediately, kept passing by the gay section taking little peeks.”
“How old is he?”
“Legal age,” Triston said. “Nineteen actually, I got to check his photo ID.”
“Spring chicken,” Darrell said.
Bobby elbowed Darrell and laughed a little.
“It was kind of weird. I felt him looking at me the whole time. I’ve had college students in there before but mostly they laugh at the size of the dildos, point at things like the dog masks, but it’s harmless. I can tell they’re more embarrassed than anything else.
“The only ones who usually buy things are girlfriends with straight or bisexual boyfriends but it’s not like they have a lot of money to spend. One time we had some fraternity brothers in there. I think it was a dare or maybe for some hazing party. They each bought a masturbation aid then some other things.”
“Get to the point,” Darrell said.
“My point is that he’s like six years younger than me.”
“Seven,” Spencer said.
“Okay ten years younger than Spencer,” Triston said.
“Hey everyone knows my age,” Spencer said.
“And we still love you,” Bobby said.
“What’s he like?”
“Brave, maybe a little shy,” Triston said. “The couple were hanging on each other and the girlfriend is the one looking. She shows her boyfriend some gay porn and some dildos. I can tell he’s keeping his cool about the whole thing but it doesn’t interest him. The friend though, I can see it’s bothering him. They tried to get his attention but he kept his distance. The couple gets some things: a cock ring, some clips, and lubricant. She pays, takes the bag and her boyfriend out of the store. To make a long story short-”
“Too late,” Spencer said before sampling his drink.
“The friend, my date, is left behind on his own. Finally he picks out some gay porn and a small toy. He’s standing there as I’m ringing it up and I break the ice with some joke. He laughs and I can tell everything is better. He starts to get comfortable with me. We start talking about cartoons. He says he’s watching clips of these ones from the 90’s online. I’m starting to feel old-”
“Too late,” Bobby said.
“Well I was feeling old when he asks me out, like on a date. I don’t know what he’s thinking.”
“He’s thinking you know how everything works,” Spencer said. “Do you remember what it was like at that age?”
“Yeah, but things are different now,” Triston said. “I don’t know. It’s all kind of weird. I mean when I was his age I would have dated an older guy who was my age but I felt mature for my age. I don’t know.”
“You’re officially a creepy old man,” Bobby said.
“When do we get to meet him?” Darrell asked.
“Probably never, I’m going to take it slow with him,” Triston said.
“You have to introduce us,” Spencer said.
Triston thought about what he was going to say for a second before he spoke.
“We’re not even that far apart in age but he probably has all of these preconceptions about sex and kink. There is a lot of good information out there but he could also have some high expectations.”
Ch 05 - Halloweenie
At the Halloween store Bobby was keeping himself busy by neatening the rack of costumes when his phone made a familiar sound, the sound letting him know another gay man was in the area. He was going to ignore it. He had just started using the app and it still made him nervous. But then he smelled a cologne that he had never smelled previously.
He perked up. It was musky but subtle. It didn’t smell soapy like the popular colognes. He decided he had to find out who was wearing the scent. He walked to the center of the store then slowly, as if he were looking for a needed product he looked up and down each aisle until finally he spotted the man. He was tall, handsome, wearing a suit and tie, and older.
Bobby continued past the aisle until he reached the last one turned down it, stopped himself. Play it cool, he told himself. He took a deep breath. The subtle art of cruising. He walked to the end of the aisle where the man had been. He was still there. He was more handsome than he first noticed. He had broad shoulders and short blonde hair. He looked like he was in his thirties. The man looked his way, smirked. Oh god, was that a smirk?
Other times he had turned on his heels, darted away to find security but he needed something else. He needed something to break the tension, distract him. He looked to the items on the shelves, entered the aisle and stopped. The man had clearly seen him. He started to walk his way.
“Can you help me?” the man asked.
Bobby looked up to him. He felt as if all emotion had been sucked from the tips of his toes, up through each muscle, and to his throat where it stopped. He was afraid to speak so he cleared his throat first.
“Yes sir,” he said.
The man smiled. Oh god, he smiled. Then he tapped the package in his hand against the other making it click and rattle.
“I’m uh, I’m looking for a Halloween costume for my nephew. He’s about your size.”
Bobby could tell by the man’s voice that he was equally nervous. Had he ever picked someone up in a store? How many times? No one could reject him.
“Maybe I can help,” Bobby said. “Do you want me to try them on?”
The man laughed. He laughed.
“No, I was thinking you could recommend something.”
“Right,” Bobby said. “Is it for a dance or maybe a party?”
“Uh, a costume party,” the man said.
Great, did he really have a nephew or was this some pretense to keep talking to him? It sounded good in case the manager passed by. When did he test the waters to see if the guy was serious? How did they exchange phone numbers? How did he learn the guy’s name? At a bar it was easy. This was work.
A temporary job, he told himself. The season would be over and he’d be moving on to something else, a different store maybe or pick up some more clients for his personal training. He told himself he had to be more aggressive about getting people to recruit their friends but then shrugged it off.
“Let me show you,” he said holding out his hand to direct the man back across the store to where he had started among the costumes.
The walk itself made it easier when they go there to show him the different costumes. Bobby found himself even flirting with the man who flirted back until finally the man pulled out his cell phone to check the time.
“Those are all great,” the man said before looking around to make sure they weren’t being observed. “Hey listen, I have to get back to work but this was fun. Why don’t I give you my business card? You know in case something comes in you think my friend might like.”
“Cousin,” Bobby corrected.
“Right cousin,” the man said then he winked.
Bobby knew at once the whole thing had been a ploy for conversation, a distraction for each of them from their jobs. The man handed him a card and he took it but didn’t look at the name or business right away. He stared back at the man who smiled then motioned as if he should show himself out.
“Maybe I’ll see you again,” the man said before disappearing among the racks.
Bobby smiled. He had a possible date with a handsome man. He looked at the card. A date with a man named Dennis.
He perked up. It was musky but subtle. It didn’t smell soapy like the popular colognes. He decided he had to find out who was wearing the scent. He walked to the center of the store then slowly, as if he were looking for a needed product he looked up and down each aisle until finally he spotted the man. He was tall, handsome, wearing a suit and tie, and older.
Bobby continued past the aisle until he reached the last one turned down it, stopped himself. Play it cool, he told himself. He took a deep breath. The subtle art of cruising. He walked to the end of the aisle where the man had been. He was still there. He was more handsome than he first noticed. He had broad shoulders and short blonde hair. He looked like he was in his thirties. The man looked his way, smirked. Oh god, was that a smirk?
Other times he had turned on his heels, darted away to find security but he needed something else. He needed something to break the tension, distract him. He looked to the items on the shelves, entered the aisle and stopped. The man had clearly seen him. He started to walk his way.
“Can you help me?” the man asked.
Bobby looked up to him. He felt as if all emotion had been sucked from the tips of his toes, up through each muscle, and to his throat where it stopped. He was afraid to speak so he cleared his throat first.
“Yes sir,” he said.
The man smiled. Oh god, he smiled. Then he tapped the package in his hand against the other making it click and rattle.
“I’m uh, I’m looking for a Halloween costume for my nephew. He’s about your size.”
Bobby could tell by the man’s voice that he was equally nervous. Had he ever picked someone up in a store? How many times? No one could reject him.
“Maybe I can help,” Bobby said. “Do you want me to try them on?”
The man laughed. He laughed.
“No, I was thinking you could recommend something.”
“Right,” Bobby said. “Is it for a dance or maybe a party?”
“Uh, a costume party,” the man said.
Great, did he really have a nephew or was this some pretense to keep talking to him? It sounded good in case the manager passed by. When did he test the waters to see if the guy was serious? How did they exchange phone numbers? How did he learn the guy’s name? At a bar it was easy. This was work.
A temporary job, he told himself. The season would be over and he’d be moving on to something else, a different store maybe or pick up some more clients for his personal training. He told himself he had to be more aggressive about getting people to recruit their friends but then shrugged it off.
“Let me show you,” he said holding out his hand to direct the man back across the store to where he had started among the costumes.
The walk itself made it easier when they go there to show him the different costumes. Bobby found himself even flirting with the man who flirted back until finally the man pulled out his cell phone to check the time.
“Those are all great,” the man said before looking around to make sure they weren’t being observed. “Hey listen, I have to get back to work but this was fun. Why don’t I give you my business card? You know in case something comes in you think my friend might like.”
“Cousin,” Bobby corrected.
“Right cousin,” the man said then he winked.
Bobby knew at once the whole thing had been a ploy for conversation, a distraction for each of them from their jobs. The man handed him a card and he took it but didn’t look at the name or business right away. He stared back at the man who smiled then motioned as if he should show himself out.
“Maybe I’ll see you again,” the man said before disappearing among the racks.
Bobby smiled. He had a possible date with a handsome man. He looked at the card. A date with a man named Dennis.
Ch 04 - The Straights
Spencer followed after the man back into the building feeling foolish because it was all so innocent, all so normal. He didn’t even have cuffs, he thought. They went to the elevator and the man ushered him inside before entering and standing beside him with his arms crossed.
He looked up the numbers as they ascended past the floor where his friends lived in their apartment. With each floor, each passing second everything felt more real. He realized he felt sweaty. He felt something was stuck in his throat.
When the elevator stopped he suddenly became aware of his knees in a way he never had previously. They felt like hard balls in the middle of his legs. The man held the doors for him and he moved out feeling like he needed a drink of water. He was getting tunnel vision but he had to keep moving. He was always the responsible one.
The man stopped at a door. He watched the man take keys from his pocket and stick one into the lock. Everything dimmed then went black. He fell to the floor.
“What the?” the man said. He looked to Spencer’s body then finished unlocking the door.
“Honey, we have company,” he called out into the apartment.
******
Not long after, Spencer awoke on the Wilkens’s sofa to the smiling face of Lucy. She grinned at him and for a moment he thought he might feel the reality of a handcuff as he remembered the alleyway and the man who said he was under arrest.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“You fainted,” she said. “You’ve been out for a long time but don’t worry I know what I’m doing. I’m a nurse.”
“Where’s,” he said before he started to get up. He looked around the living room then he heard a noise from the kitchen and his shoulders tensed. The man was in there and he’s going to arrest me, he thought.
“Am I under arrest?” Spencer asked.
She grimaced and shook her head. She patted him on the hand, gripped it lightly.
“Chad did you threaten to arrest this man?” she called out.
“He was,” Chad said before stopping himself as he entered the room.
“He was smoking weed,” he said in a hushed voice.
“Our daughter,” Lucy said pointing over Spencer’s shoulder.
“Oh,” Spencer said.
“He was smoking weed in public. I didn’t go looking for him.”
“You can’t arrest him. He’s a nice man. Aren’t you?”
Spencer nodded.
“He probably has a job, a wife and kids. You work in D.C. right?”
Spencer nodded. So what if she thought he had a wife and kids she was getting him out of trouble. She was pleading his case.
“It’s just going to cause you a hassle with all the paperwork. Plus you’ll have to go in on your day off. We were going to take Grace to the park.”
“I know,” he said in a defeated tone.
“Where’s the evidence?” she asked.
“In a plastic bag on the counter,” he said.
“Well, go flush it down the toilet then help him to his apartment. Do you live in this building?”
“My friend does. I was at his place.”
“See his friends are probably worried,” she said.
Chad began to do what she said. He took the evidence to the bathroom and flushed it then went back to assist Spencer up from the sofa and to the front door. Spencer found himself with a renewed energy now that the weed was gone. Everything had changed but he decided to play down his relief. He couldn’t gloat, not now.
He stepped with Chad out into the hallway then walked with him the elevator. He was about to say he could handle it from there but Chad stepped into the open elevator. Spencer pressed the button for the floor. He was about to say he go his own way when the doors opened but Chad gritted his teeth and led the way out. They walked down the hallway when they got to the guys apartment Spencer felt for his keys but realizing they were on the coffee table he knocked then tried the handle.
“Spencer!”
Triston jumped up from the chair where he had been sitting and ran to embrace Triston who stood looking disappointed and miserable. Triston hugged him and with one arm around his shoulders turned him to face Chad.
“And you brought home a friend. Are you returning our friend to us kind sir?”
Chad nodded.
“Wait, I thought your name was Mike,” Chad said.
“It is,” Triston said. “When he meets a cute man or orders something at the coffee shop. Do you want to come inside?”
“No thanks,” Chad said.
“We have to pay you back for bringing our lost little friend.”
“No, really,” Chad said.
He forced a smile then waved before he stepped away. Triston stepped into the hallway to see the man’s ass before retreating back into the apartment.
“You found yourself a man,” Bobby said.
“I fainted,” Spencer said. “And he’s straight. And he’s a cop.”
They looked at him but no one spoke.
He looked up the numbers as they ascended past the floor where his friends lived in their apartment. With each floor, each passing second everything felt more real. He realized he felt sweaty. He felt something was stuck in his throat.
When the elevator stopped he suddenly became aware of his knees in a way he never had previously. They felt like hard balls in the middle of his legs. The man held the doors for him and he moved out feeling like he needed a drink of water. He was getting tunnel vision but he had to keep moving. He was always the responsible one.
The man stopped at a door. He watched the man take keys from his pocket and stick one into the lock. Everything dimmed then went black. He fell to the floor.
“What the?” the man said. He looked to Spencer’s body then finished unlocking the door.
“Honey, we have company,” he called out into the apartment.
******
Not long after, Spencer awoke on the Wilkens’s sofa to the smiling face of Lucy. She grinned at him and for a moment he thought he might feel the reality of a handcuff as he remembered the alleyway and the man who said he was under arrest.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“You fainted,” she said. “You’ve been out for a long time but don’t worry I know what I’m doing. I’m a nurse.”
“Where’s,” he said before he started to get up. He looked around the living room then he heard a noise from the kitchen and his shoulders tensed. The man was in there and he’s going to arrest me, he thought.
“Am I under arrest?” Spencer asked.
She grimaced and shook her head. She patted him on the hand, gripped it lightly.
“Chad did you threaten to arrest this man?” she called out.
“He was,” Chad said before stopping himself as he entered the room.
“He was smoking weed,” he said in a hushed voice.
“Our daughter,” Lucy said pointing over Spencer’s shoulder.
“Oh,” Spencer said.
“He was smoking weed in public. I didn’t go looking for him.”
“You can’t arrest him. He’s a nice man. Aren’t you?”
Spencer nodded.
“He probably has a job, a wife and kids. You work in D.C. right?”
Spencer nodded. So what if she thought he had a wife and kids she was getting him out of trouble. She was pleading his case.
“It’s just going to cause you a hassle with all the paperwork. Plus you’ll have to go in on your day off. We were going to take Grace to the park.”
“I know,” he said in a defeated tone.
“Where’s the evidence?” she asked.
“In a plastic bag on the counter,” he said.
“Well, go flush it down the toilet then help him to his apartment. Do you live in this building?”
“My friend does. I was at his place.”
“See his friends are probably worried,” she said.
Chad began to do what she said. He took the evidence to the bathroom and flushed it then went back to assist Spencer up from the sofa and to the front door. Spencer found himself with a renewed energy now that the weed was gone. Everything had changed but he decided to play down his relief. He couldn’t gloat, not now.
He stepped with Chad out into the hallway then walked with him the elevator. He was about to say he could handle it from there but Chad stepped into the open elevator. Spencer pressed the button for the floor. He was about to say he go his own way when the doors opened but Chad gritted his teeth and led the way out. They walked down the hallway when they got to the guys apartment Spencer felt for his keys but realizing they were on the coffee table he knocked then tried the handle.
“Spencer!”
Triston jumped up from the chair where he had been sitting and ran to embrace Triston who stood looking disappointed and miserable. Triston hugged him and with one arm around his shoulders turned him to face Chad.
“And you brought home a friend. Are you returning our friend to us kind sir?”
Chad nodded.
“Wait, I thought your name was Mike,” Chad said.
“It is,” Triston said. “When he meets a cute man or orders something at the coffee shop. Do you want to come inside?”
“No thanks,” Chad said.
“We have to pay you back for bringing our lost little friend.”
“No, really,” Chad said.
He forced a smile then waved before he stepped away. Triston stepped into the hallway to see the man’s ass before retreating back into the apartment.
“You found yourself a man,” Bobby said.
“I fainted,” Spencer said. “And he’s straight. And he’s a cop.”
They looked at him but no one spoke.
Ch 03 - Helping the Homos
Six hours later Triston awoke under the weight of Bobby who in fact had spooned him. He liked the feeling but he needed to pee and he thought about Spencer in the living room alone. He got up carefully, letting Bobby fall to the bed’s surface he didn’t seem to wake. Triston scratched at himself, then walked to the living room where he noticed the sofa was empty. He looked to the kitchen, went to the bathroom but Spencer wasn’t there. He peed then checked the front door which was locked.
Sometimes Spencer could be a bit of a recluse, probably headed back to his own apartment, Triston thought. He went back to the bedroom just to make sure he didn’t miss Spencer in the bed but he wasn’t there. He thought about saying something to the guys but he didn’t want to wake them. He felt dehydrated and tired. He knew if he didn’t do something he’d be hungover when he got up. He went to the kitchen and got himself a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He drank most of it in one attempt. He felt better.
As he thought about waking the guys he decided to sleep on the sofa. He went to it, saw the phone and wallet on the coffee table along with a set of keys but he was too tired to care.
They were probably someone’s, he thought before pulling the same blanket Spencer had used around himself and falling asleep.
He didn’t sleep long before Darrell and Bobby woke up. They were both louder as they moved about causing Triston to wake up to the sounds they made. He rolled onto his side and covered his head. He heard their feet moving about and groaned.
“Hey Spence wake up,” Bobby said.
“Where’s Triston? Is he in the bathroom? I really have to use it.”
“I don’t know where he is,” Bobby said.
“I’m right here,” Triston said. He rolled onto his back and looked to the doorway where Bobby and Darrell stood in their underwear scratching at themselves and looking confused.
“Where’s Spencer?”
“I don’t know,” Triston said. “Maybe he went home.”
“His stuff is on the table. You haven’t seen him?”
“He wasn’t on the sofa,” Triston said. “I didn’t talk to him.”
“When was that?”
“I don’t know, not that long ago.”
“Maybe he’s locked out,” Darrell offered.
“Maybe, let’s get dressed and see,” Bobby said.
Triston pushed himself from the sofa. He looked to the items on the table. He felt some desperate need for his friend. Why hadn’t he noticed earlier? He was too tired and too drunk, he told himself. He went to the bedroom where he found his clothes from the day before and dressed. Bobby and Darrell were quicker and to the front door before he could fasten his belt.
He looked to them feeling guilty as he stepped into the living room. Bobby opened the door and looked out into the hallway and for a moment he felt relief as if the answer had been so obvious. Spencer would be there in the hallway asleep or bored out of his mind. He wasn’t.
Bobby and Darrell stepped out into the hallway and they were already forming a plan. Triston went to them, made sure he had his keys then locked the door to close it.
“Wait, maybe we should leave it unlocked in case he comes back,” Bobby said.
“Good idea,” Darrell said.
“Maybe one of us should wait here,” Bobby replied. They both looked to Triston.
“Hey, I”m not useless, besides I don’t want to wait. I have to do something. This isn’t some kind of practical joke is it?”
“He didn’t tell me about it,” Bobby answered.
“Me neither,” Darrell said.
They separated and each covered a different area: the basement, the roof, around the block, each coffee shop, news stand, and any open business. They used their cell phones to text each other about the progress.
Finally Bobby told them to regroup at the apartment. He was the first to get back and when he got to the door he opened it hoping it had all been a mistake. He wanted to find they had all missed him somehow even in the small apartment. He checked every corner, behind any piece of furniture he could find. It was the worst game of hide and go seek, he thought, that he had ever played.
Triston and Darrell entered about the same time and they both went into the kitchen where they got bottles of water.
“What do we do now?” Darrell asked.
“We call the cops,” Triston said.
“He wouldn’t be a missing person yet,” Darrell said.
“Maybe he was kidnapped,” Triston offered.
They both looked to him. He wasn’t sure if it was doubt or worry in their eyes.
“We have to call the cops,” Triston said.
“I hate calling the cops,” Darrell said. “I always feel like it’s them helping the homos.”
Sometimes Spencer could be a bit of a recluse, probably headed back to his own apartment, Triston thought. He went back to the bedroom just to make sure he didn’t miss Spencer in the bed but he wasn’t there. He thought about saying something to the guys but he didn’t want to wake them. He felt dehydrated and tired. He knew if he didn’t do something he’d be hungover when he got up. He went to the kitchen and got himself a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He drank most of it in one attempt. He felt better.
As he thought about waking the guys he decided to sleep on the sofa. He went to it, saw the phone and wallet on the coffee table along with a set of keys but he was too tired to care.
They were probably someone’s, he thought before pulling the same blanket Spencer had used around himself and falling asleep.
He didn’t sleep long before Darrell and Bobby woke up. They were both louder as they moved about causing Triston to wake up to the sounds they made. He rolled onto his side and covered his head. He heard their feet moving about and groaned.
“Hey Spence wake up,” Bobby said.
“Where’s Triston? Is he in the bathroom? I really have to use it.”
“I don’t know where he is,” Bobby said.
“I’m right here,” Triston said. He rolled onto his back and looked to the doorway where Bobby and Darrell stood in their underwear scratching at themselves and looking confused.
“Where’s Spencer?”
“I don’t know,” Triston said. “Maybe he went home.”
“His stuff is on the table. You haven’t seen him?”
“He wasn’t on the sofa,” Triston said. “I didn’t talk to him.”
“When was that?”
“I don’t know, not that long ago.”
“Maybe he’s locked out,” Darrell offered.
“Maybe, let’s get dressed and see,” Bobby said.
Triston pushed himself from the sofa. He looked to the items on the table. He felt some desperate need for his friend. Why hadn’t he noticed earlier? He was too tired and too drunk, he told himself. He went to the bedroom where he found his clothes from the day before and dressed. Bobby and Darrell were quicker and to the front door before he could fasten his belt.
He looked to them feeling guilty as he stepped into the living room. Bobby opened the door and looked out into the hallway and for a moment he felt relief as if the answer had been so obvious. Spencer would be there in the hallway asleep or bored out of his mind. He wasn’t.
Bobby and Darrell stepped out into the hallway and they were already forming a plan. Triston went to them, made sure he had his keys then locked the door to close it.
“Wait, maybe we should leave it unlocked in case he comes back,” Bobby said.
“Good idea,” Darrell said.
“Maybe one of us should wait here,” Bobby replied. They both looked to Triston.
“Hey, I”m not useless, besides I don’t want to wait. I have to do something. This isn’t some kind of practical joke is it?”
“He didn’t tell me about it,” Bobby answered.
“Me neither,” Darrell said.
They separated and each covered a different area: the basement, the roof, around the block, each coffee shop, news stand, and any open business. They used their cell phones to text each other about the progress.
Finally Bobby told them to regroup at the apartment. He was the first to get back and when he got to the door he opened it hoping it had all been a mistake. He wanted to find they had all missed him somehow even in the small apartment. He checked every corner, behind any piece of furniture he could find. It was the worst game of hide and go seek, he thought, that he had ever played.
Triston and Darrell entered about the same time and they both went into the kitchen where they got bottles of water.
“What do we do now?” Darrell asked.
“We call the cops,” Triston said.
“He wouldn’t be a missing person yet,” Darrell said.
“Maybe he was kidnapped,” Triston offered.
They both looked to him. He wasn’t sure if it was doubt or worry in their eyes.
“We have to call the cops,” Triston said.
“I hate calling the cops,” Darrell said. “I always feel like it’s them helping the homos.”
Ch 02 - The Police
Spencer shook his head. He’d made up his mind.
“I have to do something first,” Spencer said.
“Okay,” Bobby said before turning back into the bedroom.
Spencer picked up his phone. He found his ex-boyfriend’s number and dialed. He waited until it went to voicemail.
“This is Spence. I just wanted to let you know I think you’re a fucking jerk if you post the tape somewhere or share it with anyone. That was something we made in private. If you want to do it then do it but if you think it’s some way to blackmail me so we get back together you’re wrong. That’s about the worst thing you could do. I think we both need to move on with our lives.”
He ended the call, powered off the phone, and set it down on the table. He felt relieved. It was the best thing he could have done. He felt as if he had given something up. He knew he needed sleep. He rolled to his side, pulled the blanket from the top of the sofa down over himself.
Four hours of sleep and Spencer was awake feeling as if his brain had been refreshed. It was the strange thing he always felt about himself, that after binge drinking he slept so much better. He pushed himself to his feet and noted his possessions on the coffee table. He remembered taking them out of his pockets shortly after falling asleep. He was pleased he had gotten them to the top of the table instead of dropping them on the floor or worse having them fall out into the sofa cushions.
He wiped at his eyes, got to his feet, and stretched. He felt awake but he was still full of liquor and bad food. His clothes stuck to him in odd places so he decided to shower. He got towels from the cupboard where he knew they were and went into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror.
“What life am I living?” he said aloud to himself.
Showering was quick and he was disappointed to find his old clothes on the floor where he had left them. He picked up his underwear. He didn’t want to put them back on but he did. He pulled on his jeans and then his shirt. He looked at himself again, checked his eyebrows and his hair.
He walked to the bedroom doorway where he peeked in to see the guys still asleep. He smiled at them. He was feeling good but he had a slight headache. He knew he wasn’t hydrated enough but there was still a risk of feeling sick. He thought a joint might calm him down. He knew Triston kept some weed and papers in a drawer in the bedroom. He went to it as quietly as he could, pulled open the drawer, and moved aside the underwear to find the weed and papers in the very back.
You’re not supposed to keep your drugs with your clothes, he thought. He picked up the bag and the papers then went to the living room coffee table where he rolled himself a joint. He snuck back into the bedroom and returned the stash.
The living room felt too boring, too familiar, he thought to step outside somewhere but as he contemplated the illegal nature of what he was about to do he thought there were few places he could do it. If someone smelled the weed it could be trouble but then he thought about his life of regrets and not taking risks. I’m an adult, he told himself.
He tucked the joint behind his ear, found himself a lighter, and headed out of the apartment. He made sure the door wasn’t locked. Just a quick toke and then he’d be back. He closed the door and walked away down the hall.
He remembered the side exit to the apartment building and made his way through the cavernous halls and one way doors until he reached the alleyway that led back to the front of the building. He took the joint from his ear, made sure no one was around then lit up. He always hated the first puff but he held it in his lungs anyway.
After a few hits he was feeling better, feeling hungry in fact. He was delighted by his act when the side door opened and he looked to see a handsome man step out tapping a pack of cigarettes against the palm of his hand.
The man set off his gaydar if not by being a homosexual then wishing he was. Spencer remembered the joint in his fingers and for a moment he felt a panic to run. Toss it away and run, he told himself but he couldn’t find the determination to look foolish.
“Have to smoke outside too?” the man asked.
“Yeah,” Spencer said.
“My wife thinks the kids will get cancer.” The man walked down the alley, unwrapped the cigarettes, and opened them. He was muscled. Spencer felt a tingling sensation from the sight of the man’s chest and veins in his forearms.
“I grew up in a house of smokers and I don’t have cancer. I jog every morning.”
“That’s important,” Spencer said. He wondered if the guy was ex-army by the way he looked.
“What’s that you’re smoking? Is that weed?” the man asked stopping a foot away.
“Uh,” Spencer said.
“Can I get a hit?”
“It’s just a cigarette,” Spencer said.
“Come on, I won’t tell anyone,” the man smiled.
Spencer felt trapped and for some reason he felt he could trust the man. He offered the remains of the joint in his hand. The man took it, looked it over then went to the cement wall and knocked off the cherry.
“Hey what are you doing?”
“What’s your name?”
“Mike,” Spencer said. He didn’t know why he picked the name Mike. He always picked the name Mike.
“Well Mike you’re going to have to come with me. You’re under arrest.”
“I have to do something first,” Spencer said.
“Okay,” Bobby said before turning back into the bedroom.
Spencer picked up his phone. He found his ex-boyfriend’s number and dialed. He waited until it went to voicemail.
“This is Spence. I just wanted to let you know I think you’re a fucking jerk if you post the tape somewhere or share it with anyone. That was something we made in private. If you want to do it then do it but if you think it’s some way to blackmail me so we get back together you’re wrong. That’s about the worst thing you could do. I think we both need to move on with our lives.”
He ended the call, powered off the phone, and set it down on the table. He felt relieved. It was the best thing he could have done. He felt as if he had given something up. He knew he needed sleep. He rolled to his side, pulled the blanket from the top of the sofa down over himself.
Four hours of sleep and Spencer was awake feeling as if his brain had been refreshed. It was the strange thing he always felt about himself, that after binge drinking he slept so much better. He pushed himself to his feet and noted his possessions on the coffee table. He remembered taking them out of his pockets shortly after falling asleep. He was pleased he had gotten them to the top of the table instead of dropping them on the floor or worse having them fall out into the sofa cushions.
He wiped at his eyes, got to his feet, and stretched. He felt awake but he was still full of liquor and bad food. His clothes stuck to him in odd places so he decided to shower. He got towels from the cupboard where he knew they were and went into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror.
“What life am I living?” he said aloud to himself.
Showering was quick and he was disappointed to find his old clothes on the floor where he had left them. He picked up his underwear. He didn’t want to put them back on but he did. He pulled on his jeans and then his shirt. He looked at himself again, checked his eyebrows and his hair.
He walked to the bedroom doorway where he peeked in to see the guys still asleep. He smiled at them. He was feeling good but he had a slight headache. He knew he wasn’t hydrated enough but there was still a risk of feeling sick. He thought a joint might calm him down. He knew Triston kept some weed and papers in a drawer in the bedroom. He went to it as quietly as he could, pulled open the drawer, and moved aside the underwear to find the weed and papers in the very back.
You’re not supposed to keep your drugs with your clothes, he thought. He picked up the bag and the papers then went to the living room coffee table where he rolled himself a joint. He snuck back into the bedroom and returned the stash.
The living room felt too boring, too familiar, he thought to step outside somewhere but as he contemplated the illegal nature of what he was about to do he thought there were few places he could do it. If someone smelled the weed it could be trouble but then he thought about his life of regrets and not taking risks. I’m an adult, he told himself.
He tucked the joint behind his ear, found himself a lighter, and headed out of the apartment. He made sure the door wasn’t locked. Just a quick toke and then he’d be back. He closed the door and walked away down the hall.
He remembered the side exit to the apartment building and made his way through the cavernous halls and one way doors until he reached the alleyway that led back to the front of the building. He took the joint from his ear, made sure no one was around then lit up. He always hated the first puff but he held it in his lungs anyway.
After a few hits he was feeling better, feeling hungry in fact. He was delighted by his act when the side door opened and he looked to see a handsome man step out tapping a pack of cigarettes against the palm of his hand.
The man set off his gaydar if not by being a homosexual then wishing he was. Spencer remembered the joint in his fingers and for a moment he felt a panic to run. Toss it away and run, he told himself but he couldn’t find the determination to look foolish.
“Have to smoke outside too?” the man asked.
“Yeah,” Spencer said.
“My wife thinks the kids will get cancer.” The man walked down the alley, unwrapped the cigarettes, and opened them. He was muscled. Spencer felt a tingling sensation from the sight of the man’s chest and veins in his forearms.
“I grew up in a house of smokers and I don’t have cancer. I jog every morning.”
“That’s important,” Spencer said. He wondered if the guy was ex-army by the way he looked.
“What’s that you’re smoking? Is that weed?” the man asked stopping a foot away.
“Uh,” Spencer said.
“Can I get a hit?”
“It’s just a cigarette,” Spencer said.
“Come on, I won’t tell anyone,” the man smiled.
Spencer felt trapped and for some reason he felt he could trust the man. He offered the remains of the joint in his hand. The man took it, looked it over then went to the cement wall and knocked off the cherry.
“Hey what are you doing?”
“What’s your name?”
“Mike,” Spencer said. He didn’t know why he picked the name Mike. He always picked the name Mike.
“Well Mike you’re going to have to come with me. You’re under arrest.”
Ch 01 - Going to Bed
“He’s threatening to leak our sex tape,” Spencer said.
“Our sex tape?” Bobby asked.
“No, his and mine, we made a year ago when we thought it was a long term, monogamous relationship... okay, I did. Anyway, he’s threatening me with it now.”
“Who’s he going to show it to? I don’t think TMZ would want it,” Darrell offered.
“He’s going to post it on the internet. It could go viral with Twitter and Tumblr and Facebook these days. It’s clearly me.”
“So what if it is? I wouldn’t care if my sex tape was leaked,” Triston said.
“You don’t have a sex tape. Do you?” Bobby asked.
“No, which is weird because of all of us I’d be the one who’d do something irresponsible like that.”
“Make a sex tape?” Bobby asked.
“No, let my boyfriend keep the fucking thing,” Triston said.
“Ha, ha, very funny,” Spencer said. “Seriously what am I going to do?”
“Wouldn’t both of your careers be over?” Bobby asked.
“Take him to court,” Darrell said.
“I can’t, at least not until it’s out and then my career is over.”
“You have no career,” Triston said.
“Hah, that’s funny coming from someone who works in an adult toy store.” Spencer and Triston looked at each other. Spencer tried his most intimidating stare but Triston didn’t react. He stared back with a blank face.
“Okay you two, knock it off,” Bobby said.
They broke into smiles then laughed.
“Oh my god this fucking night,” Spencer said. “I drank too much.”
“Don’t worry,” Bobby said. “You have a three day weekend.”
“The one good thing about working for the Federal Government.”
“I need to sleep. Are you guys ready?” Darrell asked.
They nodded and agreed that they were ready to pay and head home. They got up from the booth, dusted themselves off, stretched, and then headed for the door. They got to the sidewalk and paused.
“What time is it?” Spencer asked.
“Like four in the morning, the sun is about to come up any minute,” Bobby said.
“Ugh, summer,” Triston said. “People are going to be cutting their grass or doing whatever it is they do.”
“Let’s go,” Bobby said.
They walked away from the diner along the sidewalk. They lost energy as they walked until by the time they reached their apartment building it was difficult to climb the steps. Spencer followed the rest of them thinking about his predicament he felt strangely awake even if he wasn’t the most alert. He followed them up the stairs to the second floor then down the hallway to the apartment. Bobby unlocked the door and ushered everyone inside before he closed it and locked it behind them.
“Let’s get to bed.”
Spencer wasn’t ready for bed. He wanted to do something. He took his phone from his pocket and set it on the coffee table. The other three left him in the living room and headed to the apartment’s one bedroom where they began to strip out of their clothes.
“If we’re sleeping in the same bed then I’m not in the middle,” Darrell said.
“I’ll sleep in the middle,” Triston offered.
“Good because Bobby is a cuddle monster,” Darrell replied.
They looked around at each other and laughed. They were each fighting off sleep in their own way. Darrell climbed to the end of the bed where he laid on his side. Triston moved beside him and began to rub at his feet. Bobby stretched then noticed there were only three and in fact they had left Spencer in the living room. He stepped into the doorway between the rooms.
“Are you sleeping with us?”
Spencer looked to him and raised his eyebrow.
“Our sex tape?” Bobby asked.
“No, his and mine, we made a year ago when we thought it was a long term, monogamous relationship... okay, I did. Anyway, he’s threatening me with it now.”
“Who’s he going to show it to? I don’t think TMZ would want it,” Darrell offered.
“He’s going to post it on the internet. It could go viral with Twitter and Tumblr and Facebook these days. It’s clearly me.”
“So what if it is? I wouldn’t care if my sex tape was leaked,” Triston said.
“You don’t have a sex tape. Do you?” Bobby asked.
“No, which is weird because of all of us I’d be the one who’d do something irresponsible like that.”
“Make a sex tape?” Bobby asked.
“No, let my boyfriend keep the fucking thing,” Triston said.
“Ha, ha, very funny,” Spencer said. “Seriously what am I going to do?”
“Wouldn’t both of your careers be over?” Bobby asked.
“Take him to court,” Darrell said.
“I can’t, at least not until it’s out and then my career is over.”
“You have no career,” Triston said.
“Hah, that’s funny coming from someone who works in an adult toy store.” Spencer and Triston looked at each other. Spencer tried his most intimidating stare but Triston didn’t react. He stared back with a blank face.
“Okay you two, knock it off,” Bobby said.
They broke into smiles then laughed.
“Oh my god this fucking night,” Spencer said. “I drank too much.”
“Don’t worry,” Bobby said. “You have a three day weekend.”
“The one good thing about working for the Federal Government.”
“I need to sleep. Are you guys ready?” Darrell asked.
They nodded and agreed that they were ready to pay and head home. They got up from the booth, dusted themselves off, stretched, and then headed for the door. They got to the sidewalk and paused.
“What time is it?” Spencer asked.
“Like four in the morning, the sun is about to come up any minute,” Bobby said.
“Ugh, summer,” Triston said. “People are going to be cutting their grass or doing whatever it is they do.”
“Let’s go,” Bobby said.
They walked away from the diner along the sidewalk. They lost energy as they walked until by the time they reached their apartment building it was difficult to climb the steps. Spencer followed the rest of them thinking about his predicament he felt strangely awake even if he wasn’t the most alert. He followed them up the stairs to the second floor then down the hallway to the apartment. Bobby unlocked the door and ushered everyone inside before he closed it and locked it behind them.
“Let’s get to bed.”
Spencer wasn’t ready for bed. He wanted to do something. He took his phone from his pocket and set it on the coffee table. The other three left him in the living room and headed to the apartment’s one bedroom where they began to strip out of their clothes.
“If we’re sleeping in the same bed then I’m not in the middle,” Darrell said.
“I’ll sleep in the middle,” Triston offered.
“Good because Bobby is a cuddle monster,” Darrell replied.
They looked around at each other and laughed. They were each fighting off sleep in their own way. Darrell climbed to the end of the bed where he laid on his side. Triston moved beside him and began to rub at his feet. Bobby stretched then noticed there were only three and in fact they had left Spencer in the living room. He stepped into the doorway between the rooms.
“Are you sleeping with us?”
Spencer looked to him and raised his eyebrow.
Inside the Beltway (Characters)
Living together in the same apartment, sharing the same bed, was a serious commitment for Triston, Darrell, and Bobby. No one made an advance, touched or grabbed unless it was expected and usually communicated before it was done. They weren’t there for the sex. They weren’t in a monogamous relationship, it was something else, a friendship. They could talk all night long but they were also comfortable with awkward silences. Each of them were in the bed for his own reason.
For Triston it was his own sense of openness, a sense of family, if not community and friendship, plus it helped him save money to one day own a business, a sex toy shop focused on teaching and resources for a community.
For Bobby it was the warmth of being there amongst the other bodies and saving money for a brand new car, a BMW, which he wanted to pay off in full so that he never had to worry about a monthly payment. He felt like he could go anywhere if he owned a car. He could drive anywhere, be anywhere, move on a whim.
For Darrell it was sobriety, dependency, and preoccupation, the little annoyances and distractions that made him fill his day with something else. It had gotten bad two years ago before he moved in with them. He had his own apartment in that section of town that sounded like a bachelor’s neighborhood. Drinking on the weekends became drinking every night until he had a collection of bottles in the cupboards of his kitchen instead of dishes, along the counters, and windowsills.
Originally Published: 11/12/13 11:49 PM PST - Queer Words Make Stories
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