Date: Mon, 05 Jul 2004 20:23:15 +0800
From: paul sung <psun@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Ex Boyfriend II

DISCLAIMER
==========
This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is
entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights
(copyright (c) 2004 - psun@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not
copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this
disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males:
- if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON,
- if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON,
- if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.

And any comments - brickbats or bouquets, send them over to
psun@hotmail.com And if you find that you like what you're reading, visit
my page at http://www.geocities.com/savante_2002


Thankfully, making an escape hadn't been a problem since Alex
surprisingly gave up the chase after a while. It made me somewhat
suspicious for a few moments before I dismissed it. There was no need to
be paranoid. The man wasn't insane, he wouldn't be caught dead running
desperately after some guy for two blocks.

My knuckles still stung from their enconter with Alex's steel-hard jaw,
felt like I'd rammed it into a brick wall. I gingerly flexed my fingers
and felt sharp pricks of pain shooting up my arm. "Fuck."

Standing two blocks away, it was obviously worthless trying to get back
into the club knowing Alex was prowling inside no doubt waiting for
another go at me so I decided to call it a night and headed home.

As I entered my apartment loft, I didn't bother switching on the lights
and headed for the bedroom. In the living room, an antique brass lamp by
the coffee table provided a dim illumination enough for me to find my
way. Months back, Alex had gotten the lamp for a song at some flea
market. In spite of the fact that he was independently wealthy now, he
still loved the challenge of a good bargain.

It was difficult enough seeing him at the club without having reminders
of him in my own apartment. Although I'd left a message for him to
retrieve his belongings, he stubbornly refused to pick then up, no doubt
stubbornly clinging to the idea that I'd give in and take him back -
therefore saving him the problem of packing. When I'd kicked him out,
Alex had only taken an overnight bag. No doubt he was wealthy enough to
replenish his whole wardrobe if he'd wanted to.

So my wardrobe still had his designer clothes in them, the sleek Italian
boots he'd gotten in Milan, the lingering scent of his spicy cologne.
According to Breakup Rules 101, it would have been prudent to have gotten
rid of everything and it was always at the back of my mind to donate his
clothes to the nearest shelter but I found that I couldn't. An experiment
at removing some of his belongings left a gaping hole in my wardrobe -
and left me with such a keening sense of loss that I found myself
stunned. When had I turned into some wimpy, co-dependent loser?

Flipping on the lights in the adjoining wardrobe, I discarded my lenses
and picked up my reliable horn-rims. God, It was torture trying to shove
those plastic things into my eyes. The things we do for superficial
beauty.

Looking up into the built-in mirror, I barely stifled a smile. Tight tees
ala International Male definitely wasn't my look. Sure, I had the build
to look okay in them but it was difficult to trying to pair my serious
features, my respectable horn-rims with a neon-coloured tight tee that
practically yelled come-get-me. All of this just to land someone? There
had to be a better way of surviving in gayland. Shaking my head in
disgust, I shrugged off the shirt and tossed it into the laundry bin.
Seconds later, it was joined by my stonewashed jeans.

"Looking good, Sutton."

At the sound of the appreciative comment, I froze in front of the mirror,
my heart suddenly turning cartwheels in my chest. Phantom voices in the
night would have had me reaching out for the baseball bat by my bedside
but I knew that voice well enough. Cautiously I turned my gaze in the
direction of the voice towards the relative gloom of my bedroom - where a
pair of cool green eyes watched from the dark.

"Shit, Alex, you scared the shit out of me."

Like a dangerous jungle cat stalking its prey, he watched me silently
without speaking. God was in an exceptionally generous mood when
Alexandre Verga was made, that was for sure. Sinfully good looks in
spades, dark, heavily lashed green eyes matched with a full-lipped
sensual mouth, a strong jaw line - now peppered with day-old stubble -
and classically high cheekbones. I noticed that he'd shrugged on the
sleek, tailored knee-length black coat I'd gotten him for Christmas - and
damned he looked good. The seconds ticked by before he slowly slid out
from his perch on the bay window seat and came toward me. Those sexy lips
curled in a wicked little smile and his perfect white teeth flashed
brightly like a warning in the dark. "From that tight ass, bloody
unlikely."

Alexandre Verga had obviously killed off all my instincts of
self-preservation. When faced with a musclebound ex-boyfriend with a
killer instinct, I didn't do the obvious - and get the hell out. Like one
of those moronic blondes in slasher flicks, I walked inexorably towards
my doom. Instead I faced him, a man who could kill with his bare hands,
dressed in only my briefs. Faced with such a decision, I headed for the
laundry to retrieve my shirt. "Alex, what the hell.."

The man never let me finish my sentence. It was getting to be quite a
habit. From the slow, menacing prowler in my bedroom, he suddenly kicked
up the tempo, swept across to me and had me pinned on the wardrobe door
in seconds. Before I could even make a comment on the amazing tricks he'd
picked up in some God-forsaken desert war, he'd inexplicably changed his
tactics and had his sexy lips crushed against mine to shut me up.

Quick as a flash, his hot lips tracked their way up my jawline to breathe
warmly into my ear. "It's been a long time, sweetheart." One hard,
muscled thigh eased itself between mine and I let out a soft moan. It was
difficult not to think of his randy third leg when the hard, thick length
was pulsing against my thigh.

As his magical fingers threaded their way down my back, sliding down
across my naked skin, I struggled in his embrace. Always a smart man, he
knew that he would lose his advantage once I started thinking with my
head, and not my dick. Just as he reached for me again, I twisted my head
aside and mouthed out softly. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Shutting you up."

Alexandre never needed any tricks up his sleeve for that when he had that
amazingly talented mouth of his. Easy enough to conjure up images of Alex
backing me up against the door, kissing me voraciously like a starving
man - since he'd done it in sinmilar variations so many times before.
Whatever problems we had together, our sex life had always been stellar.
Even as a flood of X-rated memories filled my brain, I stubbornly pushed
him away. "How did you get in here? I changed my locks."

Stunned at my comment, he allowed me to shove him away, raising his dark
brows. "Is that some kinda cheap insult?"

Okay, I might have forgotten his uncanny ability to magically phase
through bolted doors. It was all part and parcel of Alex Verga,
super-macho military man. "Get out. I'm calling the police."

"Try it. I could have you tied up and naked in the time you took to dial
the number," he said simply.

It wasn't an idle threat since I'd actually seen him do so a few months
back at an unsightly bar brawl. In a spectacle worthy of a John Woo
martial arts flick, the three burly desperadoes were despatched as easily
as if batting away an annoying fly. The hard, sculpted muscles in his
thick arms weren't only for show. Afterward, he'd only turned back to his
beer without second glance as if nothing had happened. As I moved away
and reached for a towel, he laughed, a low, almost teasing tone. "Are you
shy, sweetheart?"

"Shut up," I mumbled in annoyance as I tied the towel around my waist.
Not only did I feel miserably vulnerable, I was also half-naked in briefs
which certainly wasn't the way I was hoping we'd have our confrontation.
So I was a prude, I was proud of it unlike Alex who dropped his pants at
the least provocation.

Instead of moving on to the next subject, he saw fit to remind me. "I've
seen your bare ass before."

"Not recently," I slashed out meanly.

He smiled again, baring surprisingly boyish dimples. "So you want me to
rectify the situation?"

Ever comfortable with partial nudity, Alex reached down to tug on his
tight black tee and I yelled. "No!" It was difficult enough talking to
him without the distraction of his naked body. Perfectly sane, logical
women were known to go hog-wild like a band of obsessive, sex-crazed
Maenads at the sight of his naked, well-muscled, perfectly-proportioned
body. Not exactly the picture of sanity, I was tempted to run along with
them.

He let out a deep sigh. "You're not going to make this easy, are you."

"Why should I?" I turned back to the closet and peeled out a white
T-shirt and shorts to slip on.

With a quiet nod, he acknowledged the truth of what I said. "Fine. What
do you want me to say then?"

"There's nothing that you haven't said, Alex." It was the truth after
all. When I'd walked in on the both of them in flagrante delicto, I'd
done the mature thing, stupid honourable me, made a polite request for
them to leave and then stalked out of the apartment. In retrospect, I
wish I'd been able to shed my conservative middle-class sensibilities and
just go hog-shit crazy, throwing vases around, breaking the antique table
and wrecking Drake's exquisite thousand dollar nose job. It was what Alex
himself would have done. Thinking of what Alex would have done if I'd
been the one caught cheating on him left me with a shudder. Though wild
rumours abounded about his disreputable past, he rarely spoke of what he
did then - and then later in the Corps - but the little I gleaned from
him left me hoping that I'd always remain on his good side. If at all
possible.

Ever the optimist, he'd tried to corner me when he came for some of his
clothes but I'd skilfully managed to avoid him - albeit by skulking down
the back stairs like a common thief. With the wealth he'd accumulated, he
could certainly afford a suitably large, well-appointed penthouse if that
was what he wanted but according to the grapevine, he'd gotten himself
checked-in at a nearby hotel.

If he was thinking of a warm welcome back for the prodigal son, he had
another thing coming.

"Stop. Come on, babe, I made a god-damned mistake. How much longer do you
want me to pay?" Alex didn't make any move to get closer to me but stood
at the entrance to my bedroom, looming dangerously. Although his words
were conciliatory, his vividly green eyes flashed in growing annoyance.

For what it was worth, it was the closest he'd ever come to a plea and it
surprised me. The Alex Verga I knew didn't plead, he bellowed out
commands and shot out orders to be followed. "You made it clear you
didn't want anything permanent between us. Called it soppy, domesticated
hetero shit. What has changed?"

"I've changed. I hate being alone without you. I hate coming home and not
have you waiting for me. I hate standing in the bar without you by my
side."

Such blatant home-spun domesticity jarred with his reckless,
love-em-and-leave-em playa image. A few months back, it was all I wanted
to hear from him but now I turned to stare at him. "Where the hell did
all this come from?"

Alex looked at me with those beautiful green eyes for a moment before
replying. "It took me at least six minutes after you left before I
realized what a stupid fool I'd been. I was letting go of the man I want
to spend the rest of my life with for a stupid, meaningless fuck."

To say I was astonished at his revelation would be the understatement of
the year as it would have been easier for him to slam a solid brickwall
into my face. It was if someone else had taken possession of Verga's
sinfully sexy, well-muscled low-fat body for a day. Not only had he
singlemindedly thrown all his previous anti-monogamy doctrines out the
window, he'd come just that close to making a commitment, something that
had always seemed to be an anathema to him. Being in a committed
relationship seemed like a cruel and pointless punishment for him - or at
least for the Alex I knew before. Closing my eyes, I backed away from the
dark, handsome Latino. Obviously the health freak had slurped down his
protein juice the wrong way this morning. "What are you trying to do? Are
you trying to drive me insane? I can't have you barging in at 2 in the
morning wanting to get back together."

"You wouldn't listen otherwise. You don't return my calls, you change
your mail address, you run when you see me coming." Never one to concede
defeat, he pointed that out as he followed me doggedly into our bedroom.
I mean, my bedroom, really. Instinct told me to kick him out immediately
but I knew that short of developing super strength, I wouldn't be able to
oust Alex from the room willingly. It set my mind to thinking even as I
absently picked up the coat he'd carelessly dropped on the floor.

Seeing the habitual move I made, he couldn't help making his point. "And
damn it, you haven't changed."

"That's what you'd like, wouldn't you?" The coat fell from my hands as if
I'd been burnt and I turned swiftly with a heated glare. "That I'd be
dependable old Sutton, the guy you could depend on to get dinner ready
while you play hide the salami with the neighbour. And his 17 year old
son."

"There is no neighour and there is no..." The anger in my voice only
sparked off a similar reaction in Alex as he marched straight up to me,
gritting his teeth tightly as he spoke. "Fuck that. After you, there was
only Drake. It was the one time."

"Sez you. Look, it's not entirely your fault, I knew what I was getting
into. Alex Verga. The man who's been there. Done it. Fucked them all." It
was one of the reasons we'd first met after all. If Verga didn't have a
reputation as a cum-laden, testosterone-charged bull, I certainly
wouldn't have marched up to him with a lewd, blatant proposition and he
certainly wouldn't have accepted so easily.

"Shut up." The bright emerald green of his eyes darkened in agression as
he narrowed his gaze at me. His ham-sized fists clenched tightly at his
sides as he fought to maintain his burgeoning temper. If I were anyone
else, I'm sure I'd be smashed to a pulp on the wall right about now. "I
know my word means shit to you now but it's the truth. We had that stupid
fight, I don't even remember what it was about, I stormed off for a drink
and then Drake came along. It was meaningless. It was stupid. Look, for
what it's worth, I'm ..."

"Don't apologize. It's not you. Just get the hell out," I said quietly.

Alex was never a man to give up without a fight. "You're going to listen
as I say this and I'll be damned if I'm going to grovel. I never could
say it to you before because I never believed that it could happen to me
but it has. I love you, Sutton." He said it coolly and firmly, his strong
legs spread wide apart ready to take on any comers. Despite his cool,
calm, kick-ass demeanour, I could see that there was a shitload of nerves
written all over his telling green eyes.

It wasn't the first time those words had come between us. Foolishly
blinded by a first love, I'd said it to him hoping beyond hope for an
affirmation but he'd never said it in return. The words didn't seem to
matter that much to him at that time. Only words he'd said, only words
and nothing mattered as much as action. Then he'd put those lips on mine
and I'd forget all about it. Those simple words meant the world to me
however, even now after all we'd been through, and my knees trembled like
a giddy schoolboy's to my utter amazement. "You're only saying that."

"You know I wouldn't lie about this." Keeping his gaze intent on mine, he
continued earnestly. "Are you going to let one stupid mistake like this
destroy what we had together? If you really think that you can never
forgive me, that you could never learn to love me again, that everything
that happened between us means absolutely nothing, just say the word and
I'll leave."

I was silent. What more could I say?

"Sutton. Please."

Finding myself unable to look him in the face, I turned away and
whispered softly, "Get out, Alex."

This time he didn't make another move. As always, the man moved like the
wind. And like the wind, his passing left me in the cold.