Date: Wed, 16 Aug 2000 20:45:56 -0700 (PDT)
From: Kevin <kevin9y9@yahoo.com>
Subject: gay/celebrity/boy-bands/another-night-at-the-club-2

Disclaimer:  I told you last time, you really shouldn't be reading this.
It'll make you go blind.  I am not, nor have I ever been, in any way
associated with any of the people depicted in the following, so I know
absolutely nothing about who they really are.  Odds are that none of them are
gay, and the following is not meant to imply that any of them are.  More's
the pity.  Don't read this if you shouldn't; you know who you are.  If I get
an angry email from your mommy or daddy, well, it's your fault.  I apologize
for the weird line breaks in the last part; I figured out what was wrong, and
it won't happen again.  Send feedback to kevin9y9@yahoo.com


Previously, on Another Night...

     My life would have continued in its normal orbits, if only a shadow
hadn't fallen across the pages of my book, and a man's voice interrupted my
thoughts.  "Er, excuse me?  I was wondering if you could help me and my
friends out..."

and now...

Another Night at the Club - Chapter Two
"Underground in Clubland"

     I looked up from my book.  It was the tall, dark, and handsome one.  I
still preferred blondy, but I wouldn't kick this one out of my bed for eating
crackers.  Aw, heck.  Who was I kidding?  At this point, I probably wouldn't
kick _anyone_ out of my bed.  I've been single for over a year, and hating
every minute of it.  But I digress, as always.

     "Yes?" I said calmly, quirking an eyebrow up in question.  I reached
over with my free hand and picked up my mocha for a quick sip.  As I put the
drink back on the table, I saw that the other three were watching us.

     "Ah, my friends and I are from out of town and don't know the area.  We
were wondering if you could tell us if there are any good clubs around here?"
The stranger smiled at me with a slight twinkle in his eye.  I liked him
already.

     I grinned back at him.  "Well, you've come to the right person.  I know
_all_ the nightspots in town."  I put the book aside; this might take a
while.

     His mouth twitched in a slight smile.  "Oh?  You party a lot, then?"

     I laughed at that.  "No, I just don't have a car, so I can never get out
of town unless I bum a ride.  So I know all the streets of the city, and so
do my feet."

     He chuckled, then in one graceful motion sat on the stone shelf sticking
out from the fireplace across from me.  "So, what are the cool spots in town
on a Friday night?"

     I rolled my eyes a little.  "Well.  There's a club about six blocks that
way," I pointed, "on the other side of campus.  I've never been there, but I
hear it is loud and smells bad, and the only reason to go is to pick up easy
undergrad women.  But if that's all you're looking for..."  He shook his head
curtly, in distaste.  "There's a decent sports bar a block from here that has
dancing after midnight," I continued.  "The music's always about a year old,
but it isn't too bad... except that the dance floor is teeny tiny.  There's a
little piano bar off of Main that's pretty cool if you just want to hang out
and talk with friends.  The place to dance, though, is the Tangerine, two
blocks from here.  They play house music, and a little techno."

     "That sounds cool.  We like to dance."  The goatee guy guffawed --
something I thought only happened in stories -- and curly slapped him
playfully.  I didn't see the joke.

     Suddenly I remembered.  "Er... I should warn you, though... Friday night
is 'gay night' there."  My face was bright red.  I've been out for three
years, but sometimes I still get a little embarrassed talking about
sexuality, particularly with total strangers.  "I mean, no one would assume
anything if you went there... the straight guys finally started to realize
that that's where all the straight girls go when they want to dance without
pressure..."  Why did I feel like I was just digging myself deeper?  I could
feel the heat in my cheeks as I blushed.

     I was rescued by the curly haired one, to my surprise.  "That's cool.
It's the nineties, you know?"  He then blushed.  "Er, it was, I mean."  The
one with the goatee and the guy who had been talking to me both laughed at
that.

     "Is that where you go?" the spiky haired, beautiful one asked in a soft
voice with just the hint of a drawl, and my blush returned full force.
"James!" the goatee'd one said with shock.  "That wasn't very polite."  The
beautiful one (James, I now knew) blushed too.

     As he started to stammer an apology, I smiled wryly.  More of a grimace,
actually.  "No, it's alright.  Yeah, that's where I usually go on a Friday.
It's not the best club I've been to, but it is the best in this town."  I
laugh, then, remembering the time I went with the girls in my department.
"Except on straight nights.  They do 80s music on Saturdays, and it's just
godawful.  Straight people can't dance."  I start to blush again, and realize
that I've been both staring at James and blathering like an idiot.  "Er... no
offense intended."

     The dark haired one by the fireplace drawled out a reply, "None taken."
I looked away from James, and therefore missed the fact that he had reddened
considerably as well.  "I'm Josh, by the way."

     "Keith," I introduced myself.

     "The tactless one is James, and the other two are Joe and Just... we
call him 'Curly,' though, just so there aren't so many 'J's."  Heh.  Now if I
could just stop thinking of the other two as the Bear and the Beautiful One,
I might get out of this conversation without making a total ass out of
myself.

     "So, do you go to school here, Keith?" Joe asked.

     I nodded.  "Yeah.  I've been here for a year now... grad school, so I'll
be here forever.  What brings you four into town?  Checking out the campus,
or just passing through?"

     Josh answered.  "Just passing through.  We had a... thing... in Detroit,
but one of our friends got sick on the way.  He had to have surgery.  So our
gig got cancelled, and now we've got a few weeks off."

     "Rotten way to get time off," I observed, and the other four nodded
soberly.  "Is your friend going to be okay?"

     Curly's face twisted in worry.  I wondered if this friend of theirs
might be Curly's 'special friend,' but then I thought to myself, no self
respecting gay man would do THAT to his hair.  In any case, Joe replied
softly, "Yeah.  The docs say he'll be fine, but he can't get too physical for
a few weeks."  Curly definitely grimaced at that, so maybe my earlier theory
was right after all.  "We were lucky to be so near such a good hospital,
though."

     The others nodded.  The mood was far too grim, and I tried to lighten it
by changing the subject.  "So, you guys are in some kind of band?"

     "Nah.  We're just travelling circus freaks," Josh said, flashing a grin.

     James rolled his eyes to the heavens.  "Yeah, we are, but you probably
haven't heard of us," Curly said in a tone that clearly indicated that even
if I had, I was to keep silent about it Or Else.  They did look really
familiar.  Later I would realize that if I had sprung the $40 per month on
cable, that I might have recognized them.  But at that point, I was still
quite clueless.  The silence after Justin's warning was lengthening, so I
just blathered on.

     "Ah.  Well, all I listen to anymore is techno and house.  It's horrible,
but I've been going to this club so often that I can actually sing along to
most of the songs -- well, the ones that have words -- and I actually go out
of my way to find the music out here in the real world.  If I could introduce
the me of today to the me of two years ago..."  I laughed, shaking my head
ruefully.  "Coming out has utterly skewed my sense of taste."

     James chuckled wickedly at that last remark, and I winced as I realized
the Freudian slip I had made.  "Not that kind of taste!" I growled sharply,
and then the other three got it and were laughing too.

     Once they composed themselves, I asked, "So, where are y'all staying?"

     "A hotel about two blocks from here," Josh said.  "We figured we'd scope
out the town, get ourselves caffeinated, and then go from there."

     I nodded.  "We had the same idea, then."

     Joe exhaled loudly.  "Well, maybe we should get going, guys.  We need to
get ready if we want to go out tonight, and we should probably call Chris on
the cell before it gets too late, see how he's doing."

     I looked down at my watch.  "Uh... you realize it's only 9:00, right?
How long does it take you guys to get ready for a club?"

     Curly laughed.  "Oh, it can take James here hours and hours to get his
hair right."

     James gave Curly the Look of Death -- my mother was a schoolteacher; I
recognized it instantly.  I didn't know what the boy was talking about
anyway... James looked pretty damn near perfect to me.

     Josh interrupted my musings by sticking out a hand for a shake as he
stood.  "Well, it was nice to meet you, Keith.  You said that sports bar was
a block from here?"

     I tried to hide my disappointment that they weren't going to the gay
club after all.  I risked a quick glance at the others.  Was it my
imagination, or did James look disappointed too?  And maybe even a little
ticked off at Josh?  Probably just my imagination.  "Yeah, one block east.
Can't miss it."  I give Josh a quick handshake, and then one each for the
others as well.  James' hand was a little damp.  So was mine.  "I hope your
friend is feeling better soon."

     Curly smiled sadly.  "Yeah, so do we.  It was nice meeting you."

     As the four of them walked away, I called out to them, "Hey, clubs here
don't really pick up until 11:30 at the earliest!  Just so you know."  I
didn't want them to make the mistake that I had made when I first got here of
going out too early.  I didn't understand why clubs were dead until midnight
-- if I'm going to pay cover charge, I want to dance, dammit -- but that's
the way things worked.

     As they left the Starbucks, I watched them go -- hmm, nice buns -- and
this time there was no mistaking it; James definitely did turn back to me as
he walked out the doors, and gave a little conspiratorial wink.  I hadn't
blushed so many times in one night, ever.

----------

     I sat there for a little while longer, but my concentration was utterly
shattered and the words on the page in front of me no longer had any meaning.
With a final sigh of disgust, I put the book back into my bag and stood.  If
I was going out that night, I needed to head home and get ready.

     I walked slowly home, enjoying the cool August evening.  All too soon,
school would start again and the calm of campus in summer would be shattered
by the return of the undergrads.  The nights were already getting colder, and
soon the joggers would be unable to run barechested.  Tragic, really.

     At home, I grabbed a quick shower to wash off the day's dust.  I spent a
few minutes debating what to wear, then decided to go as a normal person for
a change.  I only have one "club shirt" -- black, part lycra, hand wash only
-- and I only wore it when I was feeling no shame.  I instead decided on a
gray cotton T-shirt and a pair of jeans.  Casual, but the clothes were good
quality.  I put on a small spritz of cologne -- my ex-boyfriend had shown me
how good it is to get close to someone who smells nice -- and combed my hair
with just a tiny bit of gel.  I was good to go.

     And it was only 10:15.

     I spent the next hour or so checking my email and browsing the web,
listening to my collection of house mp3s with the volume cranked up to get
into the groove.  The mocha had definitely kicked in; I was wired and ready
to move.

     At about 11:30 I left my apartment and walked downtown, stopping briefly
at the cash machine before crossing the street to the club.  To be honest, I
was getting a little tired of the place -- I had gone there nearly every
Friday that summer.  The bouncer checked my ID and gave me the handstamp that
indicated that I was legal to drink.  I paid the cover, and I was inside.

     As I stepped into the club, I paused at the door to let my eyes adjust
to the dark.  A few heads turned, but no one I knew.  The music was always a
bit louder earlier in the evening, probably to distract from the nearly-empty
dance floor.  No more than two dozen bodies were out on the floor this early,
though even as I watched groups of two and three filtered on.  No doubt, in a
few minutes the DJ would play something popular and the floor would be
packed.

     I debated getting a drink, but then decided to be cheap.  I went down
the steps to the dance floor, looking to see if anyone I recognized was there
yet.  I spotted two of my friends, Alex and Greg -- the on-again off-again
couple, currently off -- dancing together with some girl friend of theirs.  I
smiled when I recognized them, and gave each of them a quick hug and a hello
before finding a point on the circle and dancing.  The DJ started to play
"Sexual," by Amber, which I recognized in a few seconds.  It was an older
song -- it reminded me of the summer before, when I was finally comfortable
enough with being gay to go out to a club.  It reminded me of the night I met
my ex.  I had found the music video on Launch.com a few nights before while
browsing the web; I really didn't understand why part of the song was sung by
a Chihuahua, but that's okay.

     Over the next half hour, other friends joined us and left, and we
mingled, moving around from group to group and saying hi.  The summer was
almost over, and already a few of my friends were back in town from their
summer breaks, so we chatted and caught up on each others' lives.  It was in
the middle of one of those conversations that I saw a familiar face, looking
around like he was lost.  I interrupted my friend's story, made my apologies,
and then left to walk over to the newcomer.

     "Joe!" I said with a grin.  "What brings you here?  Where are your
friends?"

     Joe turned, and he cracked a smile.  "Hey, Keith.  We were just looking
for you, actually.  The others are at the bar.  C'mon, join us."

     I followed as we pushed our way through the crowd near the bar.  I
greeted the others with a smile.  Josh and James had drinks -- long islands,
it looked like -- but Justin sat there with a bottle of water, looking
depressed.

     "Hey, guys.  I wasn't expecting to see y'all again.  I thought you were
going to the Sports Place.  What happened?"

     Justin sighed, but it was James that answered.  "They're 21 and over
only," he said in his deep, soft voice.  "They wouldn't let Justin in."

     I felt like a total heel.  "Damn.  I'm sorry, Justin.  I didn't realize
you were underage -- I mean, you don't look old, but I shouldn't have assumed
-- I didn't even think about it."

     Justin attempted a smile.  "It's not your fault.  At least this place is
19 and over.  I wouldn't mind, even, if the bouncer hadn't been such an ass
about it."

     Joe grinned.  "You want us to go back and work him over for ya, Just?"

     Justin laughed, and so did the rest of us.  "Nah, man.  He was just
pissed 'cause he was old, and shit.  Screw this, let's dance."

     As we headed back to the dance floor, I looked down at my watch.  12:45;
still early.

     The five of us danced together for a while; every now and then a friend
of mine would come over and I would make introductions.  At one point, my
friend Greg grabbed my arm roughly and pulled me aside.

     "You're being really obvious, you know, but if you want him you're going
to have to actually get close enough to touch him."

     "What?" I asked, clueless.

     Greg sighed.  "Look, Keith, I know you don't do the pick up thing much,
but you should know how it works by now.  The two of you -- don't look at me
like that, you know I'm talking about blondie over there -- have got the eye
contact thing down, no problem.  I think all of us have noticed that you two
can't take your eyes off each other.  Look over there.  That guy -- Josh? --
is giving his friend a pep talk too.  It's obvious you've got the hots for
each other, but if you wanna pick him up you have to dance with him.  With
him, not with a group."

     "He's not even gay!" I said shrilly.

     Greg cocked his head to the side and his eyes narrowed.  "Really," he
drawled.  His voice deepened as he said, "Trust your gaydar, Luke.  It
surrounds us, penetrates us, binds us together."  He slapped me upside the
head and returned to his normal voice, though he definitely sounded
exasperated.  "Look at him.  Look how he dresses!  And the hair!  Not to
mention that he's drooling over you as much as you are over him.  Go for it,
you silly chickenshit."  With that he let go of my arm and walked away,
probably to watch from a distance, knowing him.  Evil bastard.

     I walked back over to the guys.  I had done the random pick up thing
once before, just a little while after I moved here.  It had been a complete
and utter disaster.  We hadn't had sex -- not really, technically speaking
and depending on your definitions -- but I had felt so guilty the next
morning that I could hardly force myself out of bed to face the day.  My
mother had been Catholic, and my father Methodist.  Deep down, I was a
smalltown boy at heart.  At least this time I knew what the guy's name was
before anything happened...

     I danced mindlessly, my eyes focusing on nothing as I thought to myself
frantically.  There was no doubting that this guy was a stud.  He was my
type, totally.  Was I willing to have another fling, knowing that nothing
could come of it?  The guy didn't even live in town, and would probably be
leaving in a few days.  Well, there wouldn't be any complications, then, at
least.  Just two adults, having a good time, with no expectations.  Maybe a
fling would be good for me.  If Greg was right, and James really was as
attracted to me as I was to him.

     I must have been lost in my own world for a good five minutes,
contemplating my options.  The song changed, and I looked up, startled to
find that the others were gone.  I was standing opposite James, who danced
slowly to every other beat, watching me with a slightly amused look on his
face.  He moved closer and leaned in toward my ear, shouting over the music,
"Penny for your thoughts."

     It was loud in the club, as the speakers blasted out "Mucho Mambo
(Sway)."  It was one of my favorite songs.  I was bright red, and couldn't
think of a damn thing to say.  I resorted to cheesiness, hoping that he would
think it was cute instead of just lame.

     "Just wondering what a nice boy like you was doing in a place like
this," I shouted back.  He was a little taller than me, and I had to step in
just a little bit closer to be near enough to his ear for him to hear me.

     He leaned another few inches closer to me, breathing in.  "Hmm... you
smell good," he murmured softly.  "Do you come here often?"

     I lifted my arms half way, hesitated, and then rested them lightly on
his hips, and moved in just a bit closer.  Our cheeks were almost touching,
but not quite.  I could smell his shampoo.  My mouth was dry.  I swallowed,
and said, "If I told you that you had a nice body, would you hold it against
me?" I said, barely audible over the thumping base.

     At that James chuckled, a low rumble from deep in his throat.  He put
his arms on my shoulders, holding me in his arms, and I slipped mine more
tightly about his waist, turning them up so that my hands rested just under
his shoulder blades.  We swayed together there, not even close to moving with
the beat, the rest of the club forgotten.  My heart was thumping.  It had
been far, far too long since I had been held like this.  It felt so
comfortable, like I had always been there, in this one slice of time, and
would never leave.

     He buried his face in my neck then, rubbing first his nose and then his
mouth against my flesh.  My neck is sensitive, possibly the most sensitive
part of my body that isn't directly involved in reproduction.  I felt things
stirring in my groin, and as he kissed my neck I gasped.  I turned my head
toward his and kissed his jawbone, just under the ear, the flesh smooth
against my lips.  I moved farther down his jaw toward the chin, and then our
mouths met in our first kiss.

--------

Thanks to those of you who wrote about my first chapter.  I hope this one is
a little better, but I've never been the greatest at doing dialogue... don't
be too concerned that Keith and Lance are acting like big ol' hos in this
chapter and the next (wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more)... this will be a
romantic story, eventually, but I've been reading Dan Savage's column about
good relationships that started out slightly dirty.  And I like the movie
Trick just a little too much.  And in my experience lust at first sight is
more likely than love at first sight.  I'm a cynical romantic.  Don't worry;
I don't understand it either.  So... direct feedback to kevin9y9@yahoo.com