Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 01:30:42 -0400
From: Chicos Todos <chicostodos@gmail.com>
Subject: Mechanics of the Heart chapter 2

Hi readers! Thanks for joining me in a story exploring the complexity of
gay relationships. Before getting to the action, I just wanna say one
thing:


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 © 2013 ChicosTodos. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or
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storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the
products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

If you are a minor, or if it is illegal for you to read material containing
sexual activity between male adults, please refrain from reading any
further.


-----
-----


Danny awoke with a start.


"Mom??" He remembered chopped chives, scrambled eggs solidifying in a
skillet, and a shining butcher knife raised high.


It took him a moment to get his bearings. The alarm clock was beeping.


No, his mom wasn't chasing Roberto around the kitchen table with a butcher
knife. That was just a dream.


As Danny's emotions calmed and reality set in, he reminded himself of the
day's events. He wasn't looking forward to the presentation that Friday
morning, his first one. The copywriter hated public speaking; he thought
he'd successfully steered clear of that by choosing a career in
writing. Even though he was prepared, slides all made and notes all done,
he was still worried about what everyone would think of him.


But he had something to look forward to after work as well, hopefully two
things. The first was the surprise visit he planned for his mechanic
boyfriend, to spice up his extra-long day at work.


The second was spending the night at Roberto's place, where they can sleep
in a bit Saturday morning before the mechanic started work at noon.


Of course, there was a technicality to take care of: Danny's parents didn't
know he was going to sleep over, yet.


For all he knew, his mom and dad might've thought that he hadn't had sex
with Roberto yet.  The two times he'd slept over at his boyfriend's since
they become monogamous recently, Danny told them he was sleeping over at
his best friend Richie's. Now, he was going to tell them he planned to stay
over at Roberto's. What would they think of their good little boy?


And then there was his relationship with Richie. He hadn't had a meaningful
talk, or really hung out with Richie in months. That was a whole other
issue, and Danny didn't know how to deal with it.


He got up and looked out the bedroom window. Heavy rain outside, whipping
across the glass pane under fierce winds. Walking downstairs to the
kitchen, he saw his dad Pierre turning back and forth between the stove,
the fridge, and his iPhone in quick, hurried steps.


"Bonjour, papa," Danny said, sliding into a kitchen chair.


Pierre looked up at him and smiled. "Bonjour Danny...your mother's feeling
a little bit sick, so I'm making breakfast this morning."


"Is she okay?" his son asked.


"Her stomach's a little bit sensitive from the feast last night. Don't
worry; I've got this all under control..." His father pulled open a drawer
and started digging through the clanging utensils. "The measuring cup,
where is it?"


"I dunno..." Danny replied, getting up to help his dad. The two men
rummaged through a few more drawers, then went up to the cupboards until
they finally found the cup. They both chuckled at how useless they were
without Ms. Yeung.


"Sit down," Pierre urged, pouring flour into the plastic cup. Danny went
back to the kitchen table, delighted that he was going to have freshly made
pancakes for breakfast.


"And tell me more about Roberto."


Danny's face fell. His father sensed Danny's tension.


"He seems to be an interesting guy."


"...yeah," Danny replied, grabbing the carton of milk from the fridge.


"Certainly smart and hardworking. And good-looking. I'm surprised your mom
hasn't mentioned him before."


"Really? She was so sure he was gonna ruin my life," his son answered,
pouring milk into a glass.


Pierre thought for a moment, stirring the flour, baking powder, sugar, and
salt in a bowl. "...this is the same guy, Roberto, the seducer?" He thought
for a moment. "Mais oui...it makes sense now."


"What do you mean?" Danny asked, looking at his dad.


"Your mom and I talked last night about you and your new boyfriend," Pierre
responded, mixing eggs and milk together in a separate bowl. "She was
worried. That's normal, for her. She had her heart broken before..."


"What??" his son exclaimed, eager to hear about a part of his mom's life
that he never heard about, ever.


"Mais oui...and she's worried the same heartbreak will happen to you. But
you know what I told her?" Pierre shot a glance at his son before mixing
the dry and wet ingredients together.


"I said, `Danny, he's a young man now. He's always been a good boy, because
we raised him up well. Now, we have to trust him to make his own
decisions. He has to do that, in order to grow up to be a good man."


Danny felt a lump in his throat. "And...what did mom say?"


Pierre did an over-the-top impersonation of his dramatic wife, bringing a
wide smile to his son's face. "Oh, you know, blah blah blah, `but Roberto's
a bad bad man'....and I said, `You liked him a lot during dinner'."


"She did?" Danny asked, hopeful.


"Bien sûr. He was so charming, so friendly." The Frenchman tested
the heat of the stove. "And he can cook," Pierre added, as he shot another
glance at his son, this time with an arched eyebrow. "Good choice."


"You like him, dad?" the copywriter asked quietly, holding his breath.


"Ben...do you like him? Are you happy together?" Pierre poured the mixture
into the pan. The batter sizzled.


"I love him," Danny replied, his expression certain, still.


Pierre puffed out his cheeks and exhaled, grabbing the spatula.


"He's good to you? He doesn't hurt you?" he asked, turning back to the
frying pan.


His son paused and looked away. After a wordless moment, Pierre turned back
around, eyebrows arching high.


"He did hurt me. But we worked it out." Danny turned back to his
father. "We're okay now," Danny replied, finding a smile widening on his
face.


"Ben voilĂ ...you should tell your mother that. Tell her you're handling
this like a man," his dad said, patting his shoulder.


"Merci, papa," Danny responded. He reached for his father's shoulder,
emotions welling in his throat. Pierre smiled warmly.


"And if he hurts you again..." Pierre drew his thumb across his throat,
complete with a strangling sound effect. His son burst out in laughter.


"Papa, can I ask you something?"


"Oui?" Pierre said, flipping the first pancake onto a plate.


"Promise you won't cut my throat first."


Those eyebrows arched again.


-----


That Friday saw a severe thunderstorm, with hail and a tornado watch, which
prompted schools and other institutions to close down. Danny was among a
handful of people on his office floor who actually showed up, albeit an
hour late. There was no presentation after all; most of his coworkers opted
to work from home.


By the time 4pm rolled around, his boss urged him to go home: there wasn't
much Danny could work on without the other team members present. Danny
didn't object, but he wasn't planning on going home yet. Even though it was
crazy outside, he was determined to see his man.


He packed all his stuff and turned off his work computer. Then Danny made a
call to his favourite Chinese restaurant for takeout. He grinned as he hung
up, anticipating an exciting evening.


Meanwhile, Roberto was in the office of his auto shop, researching new
business growth opportunities. He'd sent everyone else home, since every
appointment from noon on was cancelled and rescheduled for another day--no
customer wanted to brave the storm. The mechanic had thought about going
home early himself, but stayed behind for two reasons: one, for the rare
chance to do some business planning during office hours; two, because Danny
texted him saying to stay at the garage, then refused to answer any
subsequent texts or calls.


Around 5pm, he heard tapping on the glass of the front door. Bookmarking
his browser tabs, Roberto got up and headed to the lobby, wondering who was
in such urgent need of car service.


When he got to the door, he saw Danny outside, stumbling in the gusting
crosswinds. Wearing nothing but beige shorts, and an orange short-sleeve
shirt with matching visor, his boyfriend was carrying a big paper takeout
bag for some reason.


"Danny, what the hell are you doing??" the mechanic exclaimed, whipping
open the front door and pulling his boyfriend in.


"Oh, thank you sir! Wow, such a powerful storm!" Danny piped up in a
ridiculous Chinese accent.


The younger man looked down at his soaked outfit, then lifted the takeout
bag and thrusted it in Roberto's face. "Here's your order, sir! Guaranteed
fresh!"


Roberto stood rigid in his coveralls, staring at Danny, mouth hanging open.


Danny winked and continued, taking the mechanic's hand and giving him the
bag. "Fresh Chinese buns, hot from the oven! I guarantee they're soft and
juicy." The younger man chuckled and batted his eyes.


For a moment, Roberto actually wanted to open the bag and dig in; the food
smelled delicious. But then something else caught his attention: Danny
started stripping.


"Quiet day at the auto shop, sir?" the younger man asked in his shaky
accent, unbuttoning his wet shirt while bending over and swaying his
ass. "You must be so lonely..."


Roberto smirked. He put the takeout bag on the front desk, then leaned back
against it and enjoyed the show.


"What's wrong, sir? Wrong order? You don't like Chinese buns?" Danny
questioned in a high-pitched, surprised tone, undoing the last shirt
button. His man gazed hungrily at the sliver of flesh exposed underneath
the open shirt front, skin so creamy and hairless, body so slim and
supple. Danny pulled apart his open shirt and started slowly rubbing his
nipples.


"Maybe there's something else you like?"


"Oh, I love Chinese buns," Roberto replied, grinning wide. "I need to see
them before I pay, though." He raised his eyebrows and nodded his chin.


"Ooh, smart mechanic. No tricking you, hehe!" Danny exclaimed, taking off
his shirt.


"No, keep the shirt on. Just the shorts off," the mechanic ordered.


"Ooh yes sir, whatever you like." His boy turned around and unzipped his
tight, stretchy , soaked shorts. Bending down at the waist, he stuck his
peach bum out and slid the shorts down, stripteasing slowly.


Roberto's prick stiffened in his coveralls. He watched the moist denim
shorts smooth over and reveal Danny's globes, round and compact.


His boy wore no underwear. The falling shorts unveiled Danny's buttocks and
rosebud, slightly loosened from Roberto's regular labour, despite the
younger man's Kegel sets.


The mechanic took a deep breath and stood up straight, ready to sample his
order.


"You like, sir?" Danny asked coyly, bending his upper body further down
until his hands pressed on the lobby floor, while his legs stood straight
and hoisted his buttocks up into the air. The denim shorts piled around his
ankles.


Roberto walked up and gave the cheeks a big slap. Danny jumped but remained
face down, ass up. Spreading his hands lustily on the globes, the mechanic
squeezed hard and began dry-humping his boy through his navy uniform.


Danny pushed back and whimpered. His fantasy was beginning to come true.


"Umm...very fresh....and soft..." his man muttered, groping Danny's ass
greedily. "Just what I ordered..."


Danny suddenly stood up and pushed Roberto away.


"Excellent, sir," he said with a smirk. He lifted one leg and grabbed the
shorts from his ankle, then started walking to the garage area, wearing
only an open shirt and visor.


"Tasting is in the car," he teased. He realized then that if Roberto's red
Lancer wasn't in the shop, his plan to realize his fantasy would backfire
embarrassingly.


The mechanic's eyes widened. His boy was laying it on thick, and it was
over the top, but he loved every second of it. Snapping out of his lusty
daze, Roberto followed Danny to the garage, where he did indeed park his
Lancer. It was the only car in the shop, parked beside the hydraulic lift.


Danny maneuvered his way around the car parts and garage equipment, heading
towards the red customized sports sedan. "Wow, such a nice car you have,
sir," the young man exclaimed.


When he got to the car, he spun around, stretched his arms up, and leaned
back against the cold metal doors.


Roberto whistled; there was his boy, naked save for an open, dripping shirt
and silly visor, draped on his car. Danny's ribs were showing, as well as
the faint outlines of his abdomen. His cock was half-hard, his green eyes
basking in Roberto's carnivorous glare.


The mechanic took his time getting closer to his lover, putting on his
swagger. He began pulling his coverall zipper down.


"Stay in your uniform," Danny ordered without an accent.


"Yes sir," his man answered emphatically.


Finally, he stood right in front of his boyfriend, looking down, faces so
close together that he could feel Danny's hot breath on his chin.


Before the mechanic went in for the kiss, he grabbed Danny's hands and
pressed them down on the roof of his car. Then he dove in and devoured his
boy's lips and tongue.


The younger man moaned in ecstatic pleasure, his skin tingling as his
fantasy became reality. He'd wanted to get fucked in the garage by his
mechanic boyfriend since the first time they met. He was delighted that
Roberto was up for it.


Breaking the kiss with a loud smack, the older man let go of Danny's hands
and asked, "Does this cost extra?"


Danny burst out in laughter.


"Free sample, just for you," his boy replied. He grabbed Roberto's coverall
zipper and guided it down. Disappointingly, his man had clothes on
underneath, a white tee and tiny red briefs that barely contained his
growing nine-incher. Danny had hoped that, like in his fantasies, Roberto
would be naked underneath the uniform.


"Looks like it's my lucky day," the mechanic said. He aimed for Danny's
right nipple and swooped in, biting hard on the fleshy pink knob. The
younger man lost it, cursing out loud.


With his free hands, Roberto reached down and fondled his boy's
genitals. The thick, five-inch dick erected rapidly to full mast as the
mechanic's seasoned hands stroked and twisted around the shaft. Meanwhile,
his mouth switched over to his lover's left nipple and resumed nibbling.


"Ahh!" Danny exclaimed. He tried awkwardly to fish Roberto's massive boner
out of his underwear, but their height difference and the mechanic's
fervour made it tricky. So, the younger man settled on running his hands
all over Roberto's scalp, ears, and neck.


"Umm, I love Chinese..." Roberto muttered, beginning to bite and kiss his
way down Danny's trim, pale torso. His hands kept stroking and pulling on
his boy's cock and balls.


"Oh Berto...uhh..." Danny gave up on his Chinese accent, too distracted by
the coming blowjob.


The mechanic made his way down to his lover's erection, crouching in front
of Danny. "Forgot I ordered a spring roll too," he stated matter-of-factly,
winking up at Danny. The younger man lost it again, and they both had a
laughing fit for a moment.


When the last giggles died down, Roberto gazed into Danny's eyes and
stealthily took the cock into his mouth. He took it all in one swallow.


The younger man squeaked his lover's name and closed his eyes, knees weak
from the raw sensation. He started panting, feeling the awesome suction and
tongue bath Roberto administered.


The mechanic loved to hear Danny moan and beg for more; he loved knowing
that he could arouse and satisfy his lover's needs. All the men he had sex
with before, it was just about getting off; with Danny, he wanted to
titillate and please and blow him away. Of course, having Danny constantly
remind him he was the best didn't hurt his ego.


After several blissful minutes, Roberto released Danny's throbbing prick,
thick strings of saliva stretching and falling from the shaft. He looked up
at his boy and slapped his ass, a signal to turn around. Danny bit his lip
and complied, but before his man could start tasting his asshole, he piped
up.


"I wanna do it in the car," he said, hopeful.


The mechanic hesitated; he didn't want to get the upholstery dirty.


"Please, Berto? It's...it's my fantasy..." Danny admitted,
blushing. Roberto's ears perked up.


"What is, baby?"


"Y'know..." He was starting to feel like a dirty slut.


"Tell me," his man egged on, having a ball teasing Danny.


"Berto!" the younger man whined.


"You're not gettin' it if you don't tell me," the mechanic said, getting
up.


Danny turned around in a flash. "No!"


He looked down at his cock, dripping with spit.


"I wanna...get fucked in your car," he finally whispered, closing his eyes,
cheeks blazing. "With you in your uniform."


Roberto chuckled; he decided it would be worth the cleanup after all.


With one hand, he seized Danny's cock and rubbed it slowly. "You been
thinking about that a long time?" The other hand reached into a pocket on
his coverall.


The younger man looked up at his lover, who was almost a foot taller. He
nodded.


There was a beep; Roberto had pressed the car remote in his pocket and
unlocked the doors to his red Lancer. His boy smiled sheepishly and opened
the door to the back seat. Getting in, he kicked off his shoes, crawled on
all fours onto the cloth bench, and presented his ass to the mechanic.


Roberto suddenly realized how erotic this was going to be for him
too. Without a word, he pounced and spat on his boyfriend's asshole.


Danny was delirious, squealing uncontrollably. The plastic smell of the
car, the firm cloth seat under his palms and knees, and Roberto behind him,
his face buried in his hairless crack, tongue poking and swirling, lips
sucking hard on his sphincter...it all drove him mad. He cried out like a
bitch in heat, prompting his man to give his butt a good slap.


The vigorous rimming lasted a good long moment. Roberto couldn't wait to
sink his hard prick all the way into his boy's hole again; he was so turned
on he didn't even need to jack off to get hard. Danny was bucking back and
forth, pressing his ass against the mechanic's nose and slobbering mouth.


"I'm ready, Berto..." the younger man finally said, craving the piece of
engorged flesh between his man's legs.


After giving Danny one more spit on the hole, then a bite on his buttocks,
Roberto backed away and opened the front car door. His boyfriend shot him a
confused look, until he realized that the mechanic was looking for lube in
the glovebox.


"Can I take off my shirt and visor?" he asked. It was starting to get hot
in the car.


"Well, if you want me in my uniform..." Roberto shot back with a smirk. His
boyfriend pouted, fanning himself with the shirt. His fantasy didn't
account for how stuffy car sex would be.


As the mechanic made his way back to Danny, the younger man decided he
wanted to see his man during the act, and flipped over.


Roberto grinned, revving to go. He slid down the band of his red briefs and
fished out his hard prick, then slipped a lubed finger into his boy's hole
and started probing around. With his other hand, he massaged Danny's thigh
and stomach.


The young man found Roberto's free hand and gripped it, guiding it to his
cock. With both of his man's hands massaging him inside and out, Danny
moaned in pleasure.


"Ready to get fucked by the mechanic, takeout boy?" his man asked after a
while, adding another twisting finger inside his rectum.


"Oh yeah, gimme that cock..." Danny breathed, squeezing Roberto's hand
around his hardening prick.


"Portuguese sausage, comin' right up."


Their eyes connected, then they both howled in laughter.


"We're having fusion cuisine tonight..." Danny said, watching the mechanic
stand up outside the car and slick up his long, girthy meatpole. The
thought of Roberto taking him savagely in his rocking car heated his loins;
he rested his head back on the seat and stretched his clothed arms above
him, against the car door.


The mechanic leaned back into the interior and put Danny's legs on top of
his shoulders. He aimed his erection at the relaxed rosebud.


"Comin' right up, baby..."


With a firm push, Roberto's cockhead breached the ring and slid inside his
sighing boy. So snug, so good...


The younger bottom arched his back and whimpered, feeling full as he
submitted himself to the invasion. He gripped the door handle above him
hard, then willed himself to relax and loosen up. Inch after inch of thick,
throbbing man meat slid into him.


"Halfway there..." Roberto muttered, continuing to bore deeper. His boy
suddenly yelped.


"You okay, baby?" the mechanic stopped.


"Um hmm..." Danny moaned, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed. "Can we start
there?"


Maybe it was the new environment, or maybe it was the fact that his fantasy
was coming true--the younger man was more tense than usual.


"Of course, baby," Roberto comforted. He began to pull out when Danny piped
up again.


"And can you take off your shirt underneath? Please?" he asked with an
awkward smile.


His man chuckled and pulled out of Danny. "Did I miss the script?" he
teased, wiggling out of the arms of his coverall clumsily while keeping his
head down under the car ceiling. He then stripped off his white tee to
reveal his gloriously ripped and hairy torso, and quickly put the unzipped
coverall back on.


It was almost sexier just to see a peek of that hard, muscular body beneath
the open zipper of the uniform, with a huge big cock hanging out at the
bottom of the opening.


"Anything else, Mr. Director?" the mechanic asked, resuming fucking
position.


"No. Just fulfill my fantasy, please," his boy replied with mischief.


Roberto did just that, jamming his prick in and snapping his pelvis
forward. Danny was surprised, squeaking out loud, then held on to the door
handle above his head and relished in his naughty dream coming true.


Since the ceiling was low, and Roberto was all bulky muscle, he soon felt
the strain on his neck, bent over in a maladroit half-kneel while pistoning
his slicked-up member deep into his boy. So he soon stopped thrusting,
wrapped Danny's legs around his waist, and straightened his legs until his
body pressed down on Danny's.


Burrowing his face to his favourite spot between his lover's ear and neck,
Roberto pushed deeper into his boyfriend and picked up the pace. He bit and
sucked on Danny's neck while holding onto his boy's head.


Danny was lost in lust, panting and hollering desperately. The younger man
loved it when Roberto's big brawny body pressed down on his, their groins
gyrating tirelessly, Roberto's massive prick pillaging his insides. He
squeezed his man's tough buttocks through the uniform and whimpered, a
helpless, wanton whine, inciting his man to fuck harder.


The car began to rock slightly. Both men were covered in sweat. Danny
locked his arms around his man's clothed back and wailed like a siren;
Roberto wrapped his hands around his lover's head, to shield it from
bumping against the car door, and drilled on. It wasn't the most
comfortable place to fuck, but Roberto couldn't deny that the novelty was
turning him on.


It would be several minutes of hardcore sex before the mechanic stopped
thrusting. He hoisted himself up and wiggled out of his uniform one arm at
a time, until he was only clothed from the cock down. Sweat ran down his
chest, coursing through the black forest that lined his bulging pecs and
abs. Several drops fell down on Danny's smooth frame, itself moist with
perspiration.


The mechanic looked at his lover, who was flushed and breathing hard.


"Having fun?" Roberto asked.


Danny responded by pulling his lover's face down for a searing kiss. He
wrapped his legs around Roberto's firm buttocks and sucked on his man's
tongue.


"Fuck me, you stud," he ordered when he broke the kiss. Roberto raised his
eyebrows, then heeded his command.


They fucked on, passionate, needy, loud. Sweaty, hairy balls smacked
against a stretched, abused hole. The mechanic stud switched up his thrusts
every so often, going fast and shallow, then deep and slow, then rotating
his groin to set off Danny's prostate. His boy was lost in ecstasy,
frantically clawing at his man's muscular back, then banging his fists up
against the door.


Eventually, the aching pressure in Roberto's groin began building rapidly
"I'm gonna cum..." he warned, his assault edging.


"Cum all over me!" his boy yelled.


His man pulled out and began jacking, the red, quivering monster, all nine
inches of it, about to spray a big load on Danny's slender, heaving
body. The younger man couldn't wait; he grabbed Roberto's cock with both
hands and stroked hard, twisting his wrists around the cockhead, milking
his man of his cum.


Roberto yelled, cursing. Semen shot forth, hitting Danny on the cheek up to
his forehead. The next shot splattered against the lid of his orange visor.


Danny kept milking. Cum flew all over his torso, streaking his neck,
raining down on his nipples, landing across his belly button. Above him,
his man jerked and doubled over, hissing curses.


A river of the thick, runny liquid ran from Danny's waist down to the back
of his open shirt, then onto the cloth back seat.


Without touching his own dick, Danny started cumming himself, screaming the
mechanic's name. His own jizz shot in fountains and landed on his stomach,
adding streaks to the mess Roberto had made.


He kept jacking off Roberto until the stud couldn't take it anymore; the
mechanic lifted Danny's hands away from his sensitive, oozing member and
wrapped them around Danny's ejaculating tool, stroking hard in return.


Danny's abs flexed hard; he begged for mercy.


"You like that, huh? That's what you do to me every time..." Roberto
hissed, giving his boy one last twisting stroke before letting go. Danny
moaned, his whole body going limp.


The mechanic sat back on the cloth seat, his body covered in
perspiration. The top half of his coverall was flattened in a messy pile
behind his back. Danny's legs stretched languidly on his clothed lap;
Roberto stroked them quietly, coming down from the high.


Suddenly he felt the legs lift away. The next second, a warmth wrapped
around his soft dick.


Danny had spun his body around, to lay his head in Roberto's lap, facing
his sweaty, sticky genitals. He sucked that cock for its very last drop,
alternating with sucking the sweat off his man's messy pubes too. The scent
and flavours thrilled Danny and he just wanted more.


Roberto leaned back, defeated. He winced every time Danny's lips drew
across his glans. Moaning his boy's name, he was too weak to push Danny's
head away.


The mixed cumloads on Danny's body continued to run off and seep into his
shirt and the car seat. Roberto saw and tensed for a second--his car was
his pride and joy (as well as his body)--but then he decided he would make
an evening out of getting his boy to clean the mess he made. Who knows;
maybe they'd do this again...


Running his hands up and down Danny's cooling belly and chest, Roberto
gathered a pool of cum. He then swept his hand up his lover's torso, then
his neck, over his chin, the runny liquid spilling all over Danny's
porcelain skin. Finally, the older man dumped the sloppy load into Danny's
open mouth.


His boy moaned and eagerly swallowed.


"Shit...you're still a nasty little whore, aren't ya?" Roberto breathed. He
loved seeing his boy coated in cum from his mouth all the way down to his
dick.


Danny frowned but kept licking Roberto's hand, kept sucking on his
exhausted prick. "Only for you..." he mumbled, his fiery hunger for his
mechanic stud slowly calming to sated contentment.


When Roberto's cock slit had no more sperm to give him, he gave the
cockhead one last kiss, then licked his way up his man's moist, hairy
torso, running his tongue over the salty ridges of Roberto's
eight-pack. Sitting up on his man's lap, he snuggled against the mechanic's
chest and took a quick bite of his left nipple.


The young man felt the layer of cum on his own body cooling.


After a while, Roberto stripped Danny of his shirt, now drenched in
rainwater, sweat and cum. He threw the filthy fabric on the car floor, then
kissed his lover on the nose and asked, "Happy?"


Danny nodded.


"Was it everything you dreamed of?" Roberto continued.


"It was better...and more painful," his boy replied, leaning back onto his
man's damp, firm pecs.


"Did I hurt you?" the mechanic asked, looking down at Danny.


"...a little, but it was good too. I meant just, being in the car, on the
seat."


"Yeah..." Roberto stretched his neck; he knew it would be sore in the
morning.


After a quiet moment, the mechanic said, "Can't believe you drove all the
way here, in the storm. That's dangerous."


"I drove carefully. And I wanted to surprise you, for your long day." Danny
curled his fingers around strands of wet chest hair. "...and then when I
saw the storm, I hoped you wouldn't have any customers, so then I pulled
out the costume I got from Value Village and..." he chuckled.


"Went all Asian slut on me," the mechanic finished. That earned him a slap
on his meaty pecs.


Danny looked up at his man again. "Did you like it?"


Roberto grinned, reminding Danny how exactly the mechanic stud had so
quickly and utterly flipped his world upside down. "My neck's gonna be a
bitch, but you saw how hard I came."


Danny smiled, then looked down at the car seat.


"Oops...looks like we got messy..."


"Oh yeah. And you're gonna clean it," his man stated. The younger man
looked up, pouting.


"What? It's your fantasy to get messy in my car. Now you gotta clean it
up."


Danny whined, taking off his visor. He was surprised to find Roberto's
cumshot on it. The mechanic shushed him up and put the visor back on
Danny's sexed-up hair, then swiped off his cumshot. "It won't take that
long. We just gotta soak and scrub it a bit," he said, slipping his jizzed
finger between his boy's lips.


Danny sucked the finger clean. Releasing it, he then said, "Fine. And then
we'll go back to your place."


That made Roberto open his eyes wide. "Your mom let you sleep over??"


Danny smiled proudly. "Well, my dad did. He's on our side. He's talking to
mom." He snuggled up to his man. "He wants me to make my own decisions."


The mechanic whistled. "Well, that was easy..."


"He also threatened to cut your throat if you hurt me again," his boy
teased.


Roberto stiffened. "Danny, I thought we talked about this..."


"We did, we did...I just..." He quickly sat up and looked at his
man. "Sorry. I was just joking," he apologized.


"Do you trust me?" Roberto questioned, staring at his boyfriend.


"Yes," Danny replied firmly.


"Good. Now let's not bring it up again," he finished, lifting his boy off
his lap. He fumbled for the coverall sleeves behind him and put his uniform
back on. Danny watched, unsure if he'd just ruined everything.


He stayed sitting when Roberto zipped up and got out of the car. Waiting
for a second, the mechanic turned around and leaned back into the
interior. "Are you coming to shower?"


Danny exhaled.


"I didn't know there was a shower here!" he exclaimed, crawling out of the
back seat. Maybe that could be where his next fantasy takes place...


-----


After cleaning themselves, they spent 30 minutes soaping up and scrubbing
down the Lancer's back seat. They then headed for Roberto's apartment in
each of their cars. The thunderstorm had cleared by then, leaving roads wet
and garbage cans toppled, but otherwise the drive was fine.


When they got in and flopped onto Roberto's black couch, they were both
starving and exhausted. The Chinese takeout wasn't going to be enough food
for both of them, so after cuddling with Danny for several minutes, the
mechanic got up and started making dinner.


"Wanna help me?" Roberto asked, opening the fridge. Danny bounded up and
followed his man into the kitchen. The plan was chicken stir-fry, easy,
relatively quick, and a suitable complement to the Chinese buns.


While Danny was chopping up the vegetables, his mind wandered. The past
eight months had been crazy. The young man went from falling head over
heels for Roberto, to having his heart broken by him, to a blitz of
socializing and promiscuity in order to get over the mechanic, then back
together with Roberto, as well as starting a new job. He hadn't kept in
touch with any of his friends at all, both the ones he'd known for years
and the ones he'd met during his 180-degree phase. This included Richie,
his best friend.


They'd met in Grade 5, where they bonded instantly when they saw each
other's Powerpuff Girls merchandise: Danny had the pencil case while Richie
had the pencils. From then on, they talked every day, had play dates at
each other's house, and shared every secret until puberty.


During their early teenage years, both of them were going through confusing
feelings for boys. Well aware of the homophobic slurs being thrown around
the hallways, they each kept to themselves in middle school.


The two stayed distant until the start of high school, where on the first
day, Richie said hi to Danny in math class, hugged him, and told him he was
gay. Danny gasped and whisper-asked how he knew; Richie told him about his
first sexual experience, with a summer camp counsellor. That cemented their
friendship again.


"Oh Richie..." the copywriter mumbled.


"What?" Roberto asked, turning around from the skillet. Danny jumped.


"Oh, nothing..."


Through their high school years, their friends noticed how similar Danny
and Richie looked. Strangers thought they were brothers, Richie the blond
one, Danny the brunet; brothers who actually liked hanging out with each
other at school, unlike most siblings. They had each other for support in
dealing with gay and teenaged issues, and truly became the best of friends.


Richie was always the forward, outspoken, gutsy one; not Danny. Thus, the
blond was the first to come out, first to his other friends, then to the
whole school when he ran for student council. By association, Danny was
outed as well. Luckily, their school was largely accepting and they were
both well-liked.


"I miss Richie," Danny finally said.


They then went to the same college, Danny for professional writing and
Richie for television broadcasting. Other friends came and went, but the
two stayed and grew together. They talked about writing and producing a
definitive gay version of Sex & the City, then winning Emmys and buying
mansions beside Britney Spears and Tom Cruise in Hollywood.


They also talked about boys, a lot. It was one area where the two besties
were diametrically opposed: Danny had bought into the fairy tales and
waited for his prince to come on a white horse, while Richie was basically
Samantha Jones in young gay form. The former had one boyfriend during
college; the latter, by graduation, had to estimate his number of sexual
partners.


Roberto and Trevor, Richie's current boyfriend, changed their relationship
again. Richie was in love for the first time and began spending lots of
time with his tattoo-artist partner. Then Danny flipped out and went into
an 180-degree personality shift when he discovered Roberto wasn't sexually
exclusive with him--he sought a way to distance himself from the mechanic
and his feelings for him, and the path he chose was to change himself
completely. Richie, already spending less time with Danny, was confounded
by the unprecedented change; it was like his best friend became another
person. They began to drift apart.


Now that things had calmed down in Danny's life, he began to wonder if his
friendship with Richie was in jeopardy.


"Baby, the veggies?" Roberto asked, staring at his boyfriend.


Danny snapped out of his thoughts and handed the bowl to Roberto.


"You should give him a call," the mechanic suggested, sweeping the veggies
into the frying pan.


"I should..." his boyfriend conceded, doubtful he would anytime soon. "Umm,
anything else for me to do?" he asked, walking up behind his man and
leaning his head on Roberto's back.


"Nah." The stir-fry smelled mouthwateringly good. "Perfect time to call
someone," the mechanic said with a smirk.


Danny took a deep breath and sighed. "You wouldn't understand..." He'd
never fought with Richie, which meant they'd never had to resolve conflict
and make up. It was something he didn't know how to deal with.


"Sure I do. It was Richie who helped me find you, remember?" Roberto threw
the cooked chicken pieces back into the skillet and stirred them quickly
with the greens. "We talked."


"About what?" Danny looked up.


Awkward moment. "...about how much you changed when we weren't together."


"Oh god..." Danny moaned. "You made me go crazy."


"Danny..." Roberto began to turn around.


"No, I'm just kidding..." Danny wrapped his arms around his big man. "Well,
kinda. But I'm not like that anymore."


"No, you're not." The mechanic began scooping everything out of the
pan. "Can you set the table, baby?"


Danny went to the drawers to grab the utensils and plates. He then walked
over to the kitchen table in silence.


"Dinner's ready," Roberto declared proudly, placing the big bowl of chicken
stir-fry on the table, beside the bowl of reheated buns. Instead of the
usually appreciative audience, however, he had Danny, lost in thought.


"Do you want me to call him?" he asked, slightly irritated.


"No!" Danny exclaimed.


"Then let's have dinner, and then go call him." Roberto sat down.


"But what am I gonna say?" the younger man pleaded.


The mechanic scooped a large helping onto his plate, then forked a big bite
of chicken and veggies into his mouth. Looking back at Danny, he chewed,
swallowed, and said, "You can start by thanking him, for getting us back
together."


Danny's eyes bulged. Roberto looked at him matter-of-factly and continued
eating. Seeing his boy anxious, the mechanic then softened his gaze and
reached across the table to give Danny's arm a squeeze.


Dinner was quiet. When the couple finished, Roberto gave Danny a look, then
started clearing the kitchen table. Danny sighed again, and took out his
phone.


As the call connected and started ringing, the copywriter took a deep
breath.


"Hey Danny..."


"Hey,"


"...what's up?" Richie asked, seemingly distracted.


"Oh, nothing much, just wanted...to talk."


"Hey, I'm on the other line. Can I call you back?"


"Yeah, yeah..." he replied. The call disconnected.


Danny looked at Roberto, feeling helpless and disappointed.


----- -----


Richie switched to the other line. "Hey, still here?" he asked.


"Yeah," Simon replied.


"That was Danny." Richie said, exhaling.


"Oh." Simon's eyebrows shot up. "Do you wanna talk to him?"


"Oh gawd no!" the blond exclaimed.


He took a breath. "Not right now at least. Uhh, what were we talking
about?"


"Uhh...what we're gonna do tonight," the singer reminded him, putting a
frozen pasta dinner into the microwave.


"Oh yeah, that...so Trevor wants to stay in and watch a movie or TV, but I
wanna go out. It's been so long!"


"Like a few weeks?" Simon asked, chuckling. He poured the last bit of water
left in his Brita filter into his glass, then went to the sink tap to
refill the pitcher.


"I used to party every weekend, at least twice! Danny and me and a bunch of
us...you met Chris and Hamid and Ryan, and you know Ben..."


"Yeah."


"Yeah, we used to go out all the time! And I always had to talk to guys for
Danny...but he was always too shy so...sometimes I ended up going home with
the guy..."


Simon laughed, leaning against the sink counter in his small kitchen.


"That was before he met Roberto and I met Trevor." Richie said, his
nostalgic tone turning melancholic. "And then everything changed."


About a month ago, the blond met Simon at an audiovisual studio
complex. The singer was laying down backup vocals for another artist's
album in one of the studios, while a room over, Richie was doing some
post-production editing for a celebrity TV special. They met at the snack
machine, where they both wanted the last bag of regular chips that was in
there. The older man let the younger one buy it, then Richie shared the
small bag with Simon.


At a time when Richie was secretly and terribly missing his best friend,
Simon reminded Richie of an older version of Danny. Being the extrovert
that he was, Richie quickly invited the singer to his friend Ben's house
party that night; as fate would have it, Simon was already invited to the
same party, by Ben's new boyfriend Matt. Ever since then, they'd been
hanging out regularly.


"You two have been friends since Grade 5, right?"


"Yeah. We bonded over Powerpuff Girls. We were born gay!" Richie giggled.


"That's funny," Simon replied. "Well, in my opinion, and you can take it or
leave it, but in my opinion, I think you should talk to him." The
31-year-old turned off the tap. "I don't wanna come off all preachy or
anything, but, that's a long time to be friends with someone, and it's...I
think it's worth fighting for, I do. I mean, you guys are best friends...or
were..." Simon went to the beeping microwave.


"I know, I know! It's just hard." Richie paused. "We never ever fought,
y'know? Like, never. So this...this is really awkward. I don't know what to
say to him. And he's changed so much, into a totally different person...I
told you already."


"Yeah, you did. But, honestly, I think you should just call him. I think
it'd be a shame if you just let it go, without talking first."


"Yeah, yeah, I will..." There was some rustling on the line. "Wait, did we
figure out our plans tonight?"


They settled on Toga, the biggest gay club on the strip. It was pop night
for Friday, which was good for Simon since he had no interest whatsoever
for their progressive house night on Saturdays. They then decided that
Richie would meet Simon at his bachelor pad after supper and a shower, head
over to Ben's place in the gay village to predrink, and go out to the club.


Richie was half an hour late in meeting Simon; he blamed his hair, which he
was trying to grow out, and suburban traffic, which was chaotic after the
storm. He was dressed in tight dark jeans and a high-contrast top with
green and purple zigzags that hung off one shoulder. It was evident that he
used a lot of product in his wavy hair.


Simon, as Richie expected, was dressed conservatively, in a navy
short-sleeve shirt buttoned all the way up, a gold bowtie, and khakis. He
also had a bottle of vodka in a paper bag.


"So tell me about what happened with your job...the music showcase one,"
the blond asked as they headed towards the gay village.


Simon looked off into the distance. "Well...I basically just left. I
couldn't take it anymore. It just got to a point where...I was being used,
and things were never going to change." They sprinted across an
intersection. "...and what made it hard was, I had feelings for my boss..."


"And he's straight?"


"Yeah, but he took advantage of that too. It was just wrong," Simon sighed.


"Straight guys are the worst...the curious ones." Richie shook his
head. "And they have that whole macho thing going on, which is so hot,
but...ooh, I've met a few that I shouldn't have."


Simon nodded, eyebrows raised. "You're talking to someone dumb enough to
waste two years of his life on one. And where did that get me?" He paused
for effect. "Nowhere."


They walked in silence for a while. A beautiful summer night was emerging
from the aftermath of the frightful storm: clear skies and a warm breeze
gliding through the air. The pair skirted and skipped over the puddles
everywhere. Despite the severe weather just a few hours prior, people were
already out and about to enjoy the start of the weekend, chatting on
restaurant patios, riding bikes, walking hand in hand.


"So what are you gonna do now?" the blond asked.


Simon sighed and rolled his eyes. "Good question." He glanced through the
window of a used CD store. "I dunno... I think I wanna go back to school,
actually."


"Yeah? Studying what?"


"Good question," Simon replied, then laughed.


"What do you like besides singing?" Richie asked. They stopped at an
intersection.


"Not much...I mean, music's my life."


"Hey, maybe you can be a music teacher," Richie said, as they began walking
again.


Simon nodded. "Yeah, I thought of that. I dunno if I need to go back to
school for that. And I'll need to save up if I do..." He groaned. "I'll
need to get another job."


"Aren't you working two jobs already?"


"Well, the music stuff, the backup singing, it's not steady, so I really
just have my serving gig now. I'll need something else to pay for rent, on
top of saving up for school." Simon was never a numbers guy, and the
reality of his financial situation began to stress him out.


"Want me to ask around my department, see if there are any openings?"


Simon turned to Richie. "Umm, sure." He didn't think he had the education
for a job at Richie's television channel. "Thanks, that's so nice of you."


Richie smiled and patted Simon's shoulder.


20 minutes later, they got to Ben's two-bedroom condo. The usual gay party
crowd was already there, getting drunk in the kitchen and the TV
room. Simon started on his bottle, doing shots with Richie, Ben, Matt, and
other friends; he didn't want the calories from any juice mix, and he
downed the shots quickly, knowing very well that the only way to enjoy the
night with this rowdy bunch was to get plastered.


There were drinking games and YouTube singalongs and lots of selfies for
Instagram. At one point, Simon wanted to ask Richie something, but he
couldn't find him anywhere. He asked if anyone saw the blond; Ben replied
that he saw him step out. The singer tottered out the door and drunkenly
headed down the hallway.


He had no idea where he was going. Then he remembered that the condo indoor
pool was also on this floor; he thought he'd look there. Turning a corner,
Simon found who he was looking for, behind the glass wall that separated
the pool area.


Richie was the only person in there, sitting on a pool chair, talking on
the phone. Simon opened the door and walked in. Humid chlorine permeated
his senses.


Dropping into the chair beside Richie's, the singer leaned back and waited
impatiently for the blond to end the call. Richie mostly spoke in hushed
monosyllables, before hanging up a minute later.


"We're hanging out tomorrow," Richie said, leaning back as well.


`Who?"


"Danny and me."


"Oh. That's good!"


"Yeah..."  the blond breathed. "That call was the most awkward thing ever."


"Well..." the singer turned to his new friend; his head felt warm and numb
from the alcohol. "I'm happy you talked to him."


The blond smiled back and patted Simon's shoulder.


"Richie?"


"Yeah?"


"Shit...I forgot what I was going to ask you!"


"Drunk bitch," Richie snorted, then burst out in laughter. Simon joined in,
before he heard his cell phone beep.


It was a text message from Nicole. "Hey you didn't say bye this morning!
How are you? Jae asked about you."


"Oh! Jae asked about me!!" Simon exclaimed, falling back on the chair,
grinning hard.


"Who's Jae??" Richie asked eagerly, leaning in close.


"He's hot!" Simon said emphatically. "I saw him naked last night!"


"Woo!! And??"


"He was masturbating!!" The wasted singer burst out laughing; Richie
followed.


"Haha...ohh...but seriously, Richie, oh FUCK this guy is hot! He's like, a
Korean jock..."


"Ooh!" Richie whistled.


"Who's ever seen a Korean jock?? Not me!! Oh man, if I could have my way
with him..." Simon smacked his lips and shook his head.


"Then why don't you?" Richie challenged. "See, I always say this to Danny:
just go for it! What's the worst that can happen??" He looked at
Simon. "You get fuckin' rejected...so what? There's so many other hot
guys!"


"Oh man, I wish..." The singer drew in a deep breath, fantasizing about
what he wanted to do to Jae. "I would, Richie, I really would..."


Then he slapped his forehead. "But I don't know if he's gay! Or even who he
likes..." His right hand waved in the air. "He's dated a few girls back out
west or somethin'..."


"Well, just get him drunk and make out with him," Richie suggested.


"Have YOU ever done that?" Simon questioned, looking at his friend.


"Pssh yeah!" Richie replied, eyes wide open, looking at the singer like he
was stupid.


"With a straight guy?"


"YEAH!! Omigod trust me; what's the worst that can happen?? You never see
the guy again. Onto the next!"


Simon paused, then looked away. After a moment, he quietly said, "We're
kinda friends." He remembered the talk they had in Jae's room. "He's really
nice actually."


Richie shrugged. "Maybe you guys can be friends with benefits or
something." He slowly got up off the chair. "Is your vodka all done?"


"I dunno. There was some left when I left, to find you."


"Let's finish that bottle and head out to Toga," the blond said, holding
onto the chair arm to get up.


"Wait, I gotta text Nicole back!" Simon declared. He quickly typed a reply.


"Hey sorry I left early this morning didn't want to wake you. Tell Jae I'm
ok I'm going to Toga."


Back at Ben's condo, the two friends emptied the vodka bottle, then rounded
up several other tipsy gays, and marched over to Toga two blocks down. By
that point, the singer couldn't remember how in the world he got in and
paid cover. He somehow found himself on the 3rd floor, where they blasted
urban tracks. In the pitch blackness pierced by whirling multicolored rays
of light, people twerked it on the dancefloor.


Simon got nasty too; he remembered shaking his ass, then getting down on
all fours and grinding his groin high in the air when A$AP Rocky came
on. People were cheering and clapping around the singer. When he realized
everyone was watching, he quickly got up and went to the bar, dodging
glances and outstretched hands with his head down.


While waiting for his glass of water, he felt a tap on his shoulder.


"Those were some sweet moves."


Simon turned around to face the voice. He desperately wished that somehow,
it would be Jae.


"Wanna show me how to do that?" the man said when the singer faced him.


It wasn't Jae, but Simon knew who he was. Heavily bearded, in his
late-thirties, with a tall, husky figure, his name was Luke James. He was
the Editor-in-Chief of Queeries, the glossy gay weekly.


Luke was very well-known on the strip and even beyond, actively involved on
the boards of several social organizations, present and smiling in various
photo ops promoting diversity, culture, or health. Without a doubt, he was
one of the most recognizable faces of the local queer community. He and his
friends also hosted the annual Bear Ball.


It was an understatement to say that Luke's social status and charisma, as
well as his bright blue eyes, drew many admirers, even those who weren't
normally into bears. Thus, Simon was taken aback that Luke was giving him
the time of day.


Simon nodded at the editor's request. They walked back to the dancefloor,
Luke's hand gently resting on the small of the singer's back. Once there,
they began swaying against each other, Simon a bit drunkenly.


"What's your name?" Luke whispered into the singer's ear, leaning down.


"Simon." The cologne Luke was wearing titillated the 31-year-old.


"I'm Luke," the bear continued. Simon was too drunk and shy to tell him he
knew that.


It'd been so long since the singer danced with someone. The last two years
were all spent working for Jesse and other jobs; he was always too tired to
go out dancing after a long day. Before that, Simon danced by himself;
people preferred to watch his moves than dance with him.


Luke was one handsome slim bear, but he was so much more than that. Cute
guys were everywhere, but Luke possessed a rare kind of confidence, a sort
of grace that hinted at years of experience and reserves of masculine
strength and endurance under his effortless movements, speech, and
gaze. Looking up at the smiling man, Simon felt there was a whole world to
discover behind those baby blues.


"What's up?" Luke asked with a grin.


The singer shook his head, smiling.


"You're cute," the editor said. He leaned in for a kiss on the cheek. "I
haven't seen you around before."


Simon wanted those warm lips on him again. "I haven't gone out in a while,"
he replied.


"I hear ya. I haven't been out much myself lately. Can't keep up with the
young'uns," Luke continued, chuckling while looking around him. Several
guys were staring first at him, then at the small black man he was dancing
with.


Luke then looked straight into Simon's eyes. "Though I'm glad I came out
tonight."


The singer shivered, feeling weak under the gaze and the solid but gentle
arms around his body.


"Me too," Simon responded. He felt like a kid again, peering out from his
shell at a big wide world of exciting possibilities.


"Listen," Luke said, leaning into the singer's ear, "You wanna sit down and
chat for a bit, at my place? We can have a drink, listen to some
music...and you can show me your moves again."


Goosebumps rippled through the 31-year-old's arms and shoulders. This was
all going too well, too fast. There had to be a catch.


Still, he smiled up at Luke and nodded.


After sending Richie a quick text to say he was sleeping over at a friend's
place, Simon left Toga with Luke. A few blocks and an elevator ride later,
they were at Luke's apartment.


The singer had had so much to drink, and was so worn out from everything
that had happened in the last 24 hours, that when Luke opened the front
door, Simon headed straight for the sofa and collapsed on it, passing out
immediately.


Luke shook his head in disbelief, then chuckled.


When Simon woke up, he took a few seconds to whip his head around, trying
to figure out where he was. He was on a king-sized bed, in a bedroom with a
simple but elegant wood-themed decor. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves
completely covered one wall. A big painting dominated the wall facing the
bed, a serene scene of deer in a thick forest.


Sunlight was coming through the window. He could hear the shower running.


Gradually, last night's events came back to him. He sat up and looked for
his phone and his wallet; they were still in his khaki pockets. He then saw
that he was still in last night's clothes.


Checking the time on his phone (it was around ten in the morning), he saw a
text from Richie:


"Play safe!"


Simon snickered.


The running shower stopped. Immediately, the wheels started turning in the
singer's head: should he pretend to be asleep when Luke comes in? Should he
get up? Get up and leave right now? Or stay put?


Too late; Luke came in, wrapped only in a white towel. His bearded face was
slightly flushed, still moist.


Simon took in the sights; the stocky chest, the big arms, the thick legs,
all swathed in dark brown hair. The singer's roving eyes fixated on Luke's
dense treasure trail.


"Mornin' there," the editor greeted. Then he whipped off his towel and
tossed it on the bed.


"Morning," Simon squeaked, averting his glance.


"You were out like a light," Luke continued, opening a drawer beside the
bed.


"I'm so sorry." The singer snuck a peek at the flaccid dick hanging not far
from his face. It was uncut, and around six inches soft.


"You have nothing to be sorry about," Luke said, climbing into a pair of
dark green boxers. "It was kinda funny though." There was a glint in his
marvellous blue eyes.


The singer groaned, embarrassed.


"Did you sleep well?" the editor asked. He opened the closet door.


Simon continued to survey the topless bear. He had a slim layer of fat over
his big torso; from the thickness of his arms and shoulders, it was easy to
see that Luke was a strong guy.


The singer imagined being dominated by him in bed. He swallowed, wondering
if the editor still found him attractive the morning after.


"Yeah. Thank you," Simon said quietly, at once relieved and disappointed
when Luke slipped on a tee. It was green, a lighter shade than the boxers,
and had a v-neck that gave a mouthwatering view of his copious chest hair.


"Are you always this quiet?" Luke asked, turning around. He was grinning.


Simon didn't know how to answer. "Sorry, I..."


"Stop apologizing." Luke's eyes did a once-over on the singer.


"Sor...okay. I was gonna say, that, no, I'm not usually this quiet. I'm
just...still waking up..." Simon shifted slightly. "...still trying to
remember everything, and..." He looked down. Luke waited.


Taking a breath, Simon finally blurted, "It's been awhile since I've woken
up at a guy's place,"


"Oh," Luke responded. He turned back to the closet and grabbed a pair of
faded jeans. "Well, sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."


"Oh no, not at all," Simon quickly affirmed.


The editor smiled, zipping up his jeans. "Good, `cos I wanna get to know
you some more. We didn't get a chance to chat last night..." Luke raised an
eyebrow. "...but what do you say about having brunch?"


Simon blinked and gave Luke the once-over. Luke James, Editor-in-Chief of
Queeries, one of the most well-known, well-respected gays in the city, was
offering to have brunch with him. Two days ago, if someone had told him
this would happen, he would've rolled his eyes and laughed it right off.


Good riddance to Jesse, indeed.


He thought about how his gay crew would react and what they would do, even
the attached ones like Richie or Ben.


"Sure," Simon answered with a smile.


-----
-----


Hope you're enjoying the story so far! Lots more drama and filthy sex to
cum ;) Feedback is always welcomed at chicostodos@gmail.com.