
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Note from the Publisher
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgement
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
About the Author
Also by Mathilde Watson
Play Along
At Play: Book One
Mathilde Watson
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Cover Artist: Reese Dante
Editor: Lee Rowan
Play Along © 2011 Mathilde Watson
ISBN # 9781920484804
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Note from the Publisher
Dear Reader,
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Publisher
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Dedication:
For Boo, who stood by me while my world fell apart. Twice. (So Far.) I love you!
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Holiday Inn: IHG
Monday, May 6, 1985.
"Shit, Mark. Yeah! So good. Don't stop!"
Mark swallowed around Nathan's cock and looked up into his lover's beautiful face, damp with sweat and drawn tight with pleasure under a mop of golden hair curled over his forehead and into his blue eyes. Nate was sitting on the bed, still dressed except for his pants, which were tangled around his ankles. Kneeling naked on the floor between Nate's splayed thighs, Mark pumped his own hard length through his fist. He bobbed his head up and down Nate's shaft a few more times before taking a deep breath and swallowing it whole, letting his throat stretch around the throbbing flesh.
"Oh, shit, Mark... shit!"
Nate's hands twisted painfully in his hair, holding him in place. Mark suppressed a grimace, struggling for breath while Nate ground his pelvis into Mark's face. Nate grunted and froze, releasing his grip on Mark's hair while his hot, salty cum shot down the back of Mark's throat. Mark swallowed quickly, not wanting to lose a drop. He continued to tug on his own erection while he licked Nate clean. Mark allowed Nate's softening shaft to slip from his mouth as he found his own release, spraying his seed all over Nate's leg.
Nate fell back on the bed, breathing hard. Mark chuckled and climbed to his feet, planting a kiss on Nate's thigh and admiring the way his muscles flexed with his gasping breaths. Nate was smart, athletic, popular and fun... Nate was everything good, he had it all. And Mark had Nate, even if no one else knew it yet. God, how had he gotten so lucky?
Mark went to their tiny bathroom and cleaned himself up before bringing back a damp cloth to wipe the mess off of Nate's leg, barely managing to get the job done before anything dripped onto Nate's slacks. When he finished, he tossed the cloth in the direction of the bathroom and climbed onto the bed, crawling over Nate and angling for a kiss.
"Aw, hey, gross. Get off me!" Nate laughed and smacked Mark hard on the ass, dodging his lips and bounding off of the bed. "Cut it out. You know I don't have time for this. I'm due at the airport in an hour! Shit. I've gotta run." Nate pulled his slacks back up around his waist as he stumbled into the bathroom.
Mark sighed and rolled over onto his side, trying not to be too disappointed. Nate wasn't much for kissing or cuddling... or even reciprocating, for that matter. Damn! Nate had never bottomed, and he never stuck around to cuddle after they'd made love. But at least they were living together, had been for going on two years now, and soon they would be opening a business together. This was the first serious relationship either of them had ever been in. The rest would come. Their love was enough for now.
Nate came out of the bathroom with his hair brushed and his clothing set to rights and Mark openly ogled him, allowing a goofy grin to split his face.
"God, you're beautiful, Nate."
"Shut up, stupid."
Mark pushed himself up and out of the bed and went to his dresser, pulling out an old pair of sweatpants. He bent over to step into the pants, and Nate smacked his bare ass again on his way past to retrieve his bag. Mark jumped and let out an unmanly squeak as he pulled up the pants. Nate was laughing and Mark joined in, wrapping his arms around Nate's waist from behind. He nuzzled into the shorter man's hair and pressed his lips to his ear.
"I love you. I'm going to miss you this summer." Mark whispered, snaking his hand down the front of Nate's slacks and fondling his flaccid cock back to half-mast.
"Hey." Nate unwrapped himself from Mark's arms, stepping away quickly. "Stop that. I'll only be gone for two months. I'll be back before you know it." Nate shrugged his duffel bag up onto his shoulder and headed for the door. Mark followed him, grabbing his hand before he could leave the apartment.
"Have a good trip. And don't let them talk you into staying over any, okay? The bar is scheduled to open on August tenth, and I need you here for that."
Nate smiled and gave Mark's hand a squeeze before nodding and pulling away. "I'll be back in plenty of time, don't worry. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I won't stay away from you long. See you soon."
Nate turned and walked away, leaving Mark in the doorway watching after him until he disappeared down the stairwell. Sighing, Mark closed the door and went back into the apartment alone, his mind already racing with plans for how best to welcome his lover back home.
\*\*\*\*
Thursday, July 11, 1985
The squeal of the hinges and the shuffled sound of boots scraping against the floor startled Mark from his troubled sleep. Bright sunlight shone down into his eyes from the window above the bar and he squinted his eyes shut again, groaning and rolling onto his side on the dirty floor. His hand landed in a puddle and he groped blindly until he found the source of the pungent liquid. His fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle and he clutched at it triumphantly, bringing it to his lips and downing the last of the bottle's contents in two quick gulps. He didn't even look to see what it was. He didn't care. The alcohol dulled the pain in his heart and that was all that mattered.
"Mark! Hey, Mark, you in here, hombre?"
Mark's winced in agony, the sharp sounds of the door slamming followed by his friend Ricardo's loud, heavily accented voice only making things that much worse. He forced his eyes open and took in his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was sitting on a stool at the new bar, drinking away the hurt of Nate's betrayal. Now he was sprawled out on the floor with empty bottles of beer, whiskey, and whatever had been handy scattered around him.
"Mark? Hey, Mark, what the hell?" Ricardo stomped into the room, his heavy combat boots shaking the floor under Mark's shoulder. Mark groaned and wrapped his arms over his head, covering his face and curling his body into as tight a ball as he could manage.
"Go away!"
The ground shook, jarring Mark again when Ricardo's knees landed heavily next to Mark's head. He grabbed Mark's arms with both hands, shaking him lightly. "I won't. Come on, amigo, open your eyes and talk to me. What the hell's the matter with you?"
Mark could feel tears welling behind his eyes and he gritted his teeth, trying to hold them back. Slowly he rolled onto his back and allowed Ricardo to pull his arms away from his face. The concern he saw in his best friend's gaze broke his resolve and a tear escaped from the corner of his eye, slipping down his cheek. Angrily, he dashed it away and pushed himself up until he was sitting cross-legged in front of Ricardo.
"He left me, Ricky. Gettin' married. He's gettin' fucking married! Agh!" Mark grabbed his head again, whimpering and pressing his temples between the palms of his hands. Yelling with a hangover wasn't the smartest of moves, but at least the pain in his head took away from the pain in his soul.
"What? Who? What the hell are you going on about? You aren't making any sense, amigo." Ricardo's strong fingers slipped under Mark's hands and into his hair, firmly massaging Mark's temples with steady, even strokes. The caress felt good, comforting, and Mark took a moment to enjoy it before the pain and the anger surged through him again.
Mark pushed Ricardo's hands away and twisted around to survey the floor behind him. A crumpled lavender card lay just out of his reach and he scrambled after it, snatching it up and tossing it into Ricardo's lap. He didn't want to touch it any more than he had to. Holding it in his hands made it real. Ricardo opened the card and Mark looked away, his gaze landing on the mess of spilled and empty bottles strewn all over the floor.
"Mr and Mrs Gregory Chancellor are pleased to announce the engagement of their daughter, Annabelle Mae Chancellor, to Nathan Allen Marshall... Shit. Damn, Mark. Have you called him since you got this?" Ricardo's strong arms wrapped around Mark's shoulders and Mark buried his face in his friend's neck, unable to hold back a sob any longer.
"Only for a minute, Ricky. He wasn't alone. But he said he wanted it. Wanted to get married." Mark couldn't look at Ricardo while he repeated Nate's words, the ones he could force past his throat. He couldn't bring himself to repeat the part where Nate had said Annabelle was the best thing that ever happened to him. The same thing he'd always said about Mark.
"Hijo de puta!" Ricardo's arms tightened around Mark's shoulders and Mark shook his head, pulling back to look up into Ricardo's face.
"No! I told you, he wasn't alone. He couldn't say what he really wanted to. This can't be right. They're making him do it. They found out about us somehow, and they're making him get married. He loves me. He told me he loved me!" The tears were falling freely now, but Mark didn't bother trying to hide them, not from Ricardo. They'd been friends since grade school, had seen each other through both good times and bad. It would take more than a few tears to chase Ricardo away.
Ricardo's hand cupped his cheek and Mark leaned into the touch, appreciating the caress of Ricardo's thumb as it brushed away his tears. "He said a lot of things, amigo, but he never did a damn thing."
Ricardo's soft rebuke made his guts twist. The accusation wasn't new. Ricardo never had liked Nate. Mark wiped the tears from his other cheek and pulled out of the embrace, trying to regain his composure and ignoring the sting of Ricardo's words. "What am I going to do without him?"
"What'll you do without him?" Ricardo let out a harsh laugh. "Ha! Hell, you've been doing without him all along, yeah? Think about it. What's he done, huh? He didn't pay any rent. He didn't put any money into this place, and he never lifted a finger to help get things set up here! He was a freeloader. You're better off without him."
Angry, Mark pulled away and scrambled off the floor. His head throbbed and the room spun erratically before his eyes. Mark stumbled over the empty bottles at his feet, crashing into the bar. He clung to the edge, leaning against it and hanging on as tightly as his sweaty fingers would allow, swallowing back nausea.
"No, you're wrong! He did what he could. He was busy. He tried to help out. With tennis and school and studying... He didn't have time!" Mark could hear Ricardo climbing to his feet and then stomping up beside him. Ricardo leaned against the bar next to him and sighed heavily. Mark closed his eyes, not wanting to see to pity swimming behind Ricardo's wry smile.
"Oh, yeah, studying. Right. You and I both know he wasn't studying. As much time as he spent with his so-called tutors he should have been making straight A's. He barely passed anything." Again, Mark's guts twisted inside of him. The insinuation that Nate was screwing his tutors was clear in Ricardo's voice and Mark had to swallow back bile. He'd suspected as much himself once, but Nate had vehemently denied it and Mark had taken him at his word. Hearing the accusation again from Ricardo fueled his anger even more.
"Stop it! You weren't there, you don't know anything about it. Why do you hate him so much?" Mark slumped down even more over the bar, laying his head over his forearms, blocking the light and putting much needed pressure against his throbbing eyes.
"I can't help it. I hate what he does to you. Damn it, Mark, you talk to him four and five times a week! Why the hell didn't he mention any of this to you before now, huh?" The sound of papers shaking, crinkling and rubbing against each other assaulted Mark's ears, bringing his focus back to the elegant invitation. "You give and you give, and he don't give nothing back! Nothing but grief. He's draining the life out of you! Can't you see? You're better off without him!"
Mark snapped his head up off the bar, searing pain shooting through his head with the sudden movement. He rounded on Ricardo, filled with righteous indignation. Defending his lover came naturally to him now. In all reality, he did it to defend himself as well.
"No! They're forcing him into this. He... I'm nothing without him." Frustrated, Mark flung his arm out to the side, shoving empty and half empty bottles of whiskey and beer off the edge of the bar. They hit the hardwood floor with a crash, glass and alcohol splashing against the edge of the bar and over his ankles.
Ricardo grabbed him, wrapping his large hands around Mark's biceps and shaking him fiercely. Mark stumbled, but Ricardo hauled him up, leaning his face mere inches in front of Mark's. Ricardo's eyes were bright, his face was almost crimson. Mark had never seen him so angry.
"Nothing without him? You're a man, damn it! With a business to run. A lot is depending on you, amigo. My brother, Manny, and his crew? They expect to get paid for fixing this place up. Those servers and bartenders you hired? They're expecting to work." Ricardo shook him again, gentler this time, before pulling Mark to him in a fierce hug. "You're the boss, Mark. You. You've got to buck up, hombre. Pull yourself together."
Mark pressed his face against Ricardo's chest and shook his head. "I know, but... Nate..."
"You don't need him!" Ricardo's arms tightened around Mark briefly before he let go, his heavy sigh ruffling Mark's hair.
"Okay, look." Ricardo's arms slid away from Mark's shoulders and he leaned back, holding the invitation between them. "The wedding is July 27th, si? Two weeks before we open. And this invitation is for you, plus a guest. So I'm going with you. We'll go out there, talk to him, see if he means business or not. If he is being forced into this, we'll grab him and bring him back."
Mark whipped his head around to look at Ricardo, his friend's face blurring before his eyes. He couldn't handle this on his own, but with Ricardo's help? Excited, he tried to find the words to thank him, but Ricardo cut him off.
"But, if this wedding really is what he wants, you'll have to let him go, amigo. We'll watch him get hitched, we'll wish him well, and then we'll come back here and open those doors without him, comprende?" Mark's vision blurred with tears of gratitude. Quickly he nodded his head in agreement, wincing at the sudden agony caused by the move. Sure, he understood. He was going to get his man back. Laughing with uncontrolled excitement Mark swayed forward, reaching for an open bottle of beer and bringing it to his lips. Before he could drink Ricardo intercepted him, pulling the drink from his hand.
"Oh, no. You've had enough. Look at this place!" Ricardo's arm swung out in an arch, sweeping over the disaster that covered the entire main room of the bar. "Come on, let's get this mess cleaned up." Ricardo straightened and slapped Mark on the back. The room tilted before Mark's eyes as pushed away from the bar and turned to follow Ricardo. After only a few steps the room began to spin in earnest and Mark lost his balance. Doubling over, Mark vomited all over his feet and the floor in front of him.
Seconds later Ricardo was there, holding him up and rubbing his back. Mark's throat burned and tears were streaming down his face. He had never been so wasted before in his life. Once his stomach had emptied and the heaving stopped Ricardo led him over to a sofa along the far wall of the bar. He helped him lay down and shoved a coat under his head for a pillow.
"Tell you what. You lie down here and sleep it off. I'll get you some water and then I'll clean this place up, okay?" Ricardo was sitting on the edge of the sofa next to him, petting his head. Mark didn't have the energy to answer him, he couldn't even nod his head. Instead he lay there, enjoying Ricardo's soft voice and gentle caress until he fell asleep.
\*\*\*\*
Sunday, August 9, 1987.
Mark closed the front doors behind the last customer and turned the lock, finally closing the bar down for the night. Or for the day. Whatever. It was nearly four in the morning and Mark's feet hurt, his head hurt, hell, his whole body hurt.
"Damn, that was insane! I don't know about you, but I'm beat." Mark slid the deadbolt into place and switched off the outside lights, making it official. The party was over, the bar was closed. Leaning heavily against the door he turned to face Ricardo, the last of his employees still at work. Most of the clean-up had been done around the few straggling customers and all that remained to be done was minor.
Ricardo grinned and scooped up the bottles and glasses the final customers had left at the bar. "Yeah, but it was worth it. I told you, hombre, people love a party." He winked as he hurried off into the back to dispose of the bottles and wash the final glasses.
Mark groaned and pushed off the wall, following Ricardo into the back. "Half those people didn't even know what they were celebrating."
"Doesn't matter. They came, they had a good time, and they spent a ton of cash!" Ricardo's voice floated out of the back room, muffled by the sound of running water. Mark pushed through the sliding door and joined Ricardo by the sink.
"That they did. Maybe we ought to make this an annual thing?" Mark leaned his hip against the counter, watching Ricardo work. His strong hands made quick work of the final four glasses and before long the tumblers were on the drying rack and Ricardo was bending over the sink to pull the plug that would allow the soapy water to drain out into the lot behind the bar.
Biting back a moan, Mark turned away and leaned back against the counter, bracing his hands on the edge. He closed his eyes to keep from staring at the enticing sight Ricardo's ass made under those tight jeans. Damn. They'd been friends since they were nine years old. How the hell had he never noticed how attractive Ricardo was before now? The whole fiasco with Nate two years ago seemed so trivial now. His feelings for that prick were nothing next to how he'd come to feel about Ricardo over the past year. Trying to keep his hands to himself for the past six months had been absolute torture.
"Hell, yes. Keep it going, keep it fresh, and before you know it, the MN bar will be a legend. A legend, amigo!" Ricardo's voice and his rich laughter vibrated though Mark's frame, setting his nerves on fire. Mark shook his head, trying to clear away the lustful thoughts. Embarrassed by the tightening in his groin he pushed away from the counter and headed for the back exit.
"Aw, now. Let's not get carried away." Reaching the back door, he stopped and turned to make sure Ricardo was following him. To his surprise, Ricardo was right there, practically pinning him into the corner. He could smell Ricardo's rich, musky scent and he could feel the heat from his body. Before he could stop himself he licked his lips, unable to pull his gaze away from Ricardo's smile. He couldn't help wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips, to run his tongue over the full moustache. Was it soft or prickly? Would it tickle? God, he wanted to find out.
"Why not? It's good to dream big. You wanted this place to be something, didn't you? Something special. You said you were going to make this place the biggest, loudest, most successful bar on the west coast, remember?" Ricardo braced his hands on the wall on either side of Mark's head, and Mark groaned, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the door behind him. The temptation was too great, if he didn't close his eyes he would never be able to control himself. He would make a fool of himself again, like he had after Nate's wedding.
They had gone out to a loud leather bar right after the ceremony and Mark had gotten so drunk he could barely stand. He'd thrown himself at Ricardo, kissing him and begging to get fucked. Ricardo's rebuff from that night still stung. He couldn't remember much else from that night, but he sure as hell didn't want a repeat of it.
"I've said and done a lot of stupid shit, man. I don't even want remember half of it." Ricardo chuckled softly and ran his thumb over Mark's bottom lip. Surprised, Mark opened his eyes and stared down into Ricardo's.
"Oh, come on now. It wasn't all bad, was it?" Mark swallowed hard and shrugged, not sure what they were even talking about anymore.
"I've said a lot of shit, too, yeah? Do you remember what I said the night Nate got hitched? After you kissed me?" Mark frowned and shook his head, gently pushing against Ricardo's chest. He couldn't handle being this close.
"I was drunk, man. Being stupid. I told you I was sorry." Ricardo leaned into Mark's hands, not letting himself be pushed away. Not letting Mark out of his arms.
"Yeah, I know what you said. But I'm talking about me right now. Do you remember what I said?" One of Ricardo's hands slid off the wall and onto Mark's shoulder, squeezing gently. Mark drew his eyebrows together and shook his head, never taking his eyes away from Ricardo's face.
"I told you that if you ever kiss me like that again, you damn well better mean it." Ricardo's hand slid up from Mark's shoulder and wrapped around the back of his neck. "Now, I could be wrong, and if I am, you just say so, but..." Ricardo shrugged and took his other hand off the wall, placing it instead on Mark's chest and rubbing small circles over his heart before trailing it down his stomach and cupping the bulge in the front of Mark's jeans. "I think maybe you mean it now, don't you?" Ricardo grinned and squeezed gently before leaning in closer, tilting his head back and staring up into Mark's eyes.
Mark choked out a sob and grabbed his friend, bending down and kissing him hard. Ricardo's mouth opened for him and Mark shoved inside, learning his taste and carefully mapping the inside of his hot mouth. Their teeth clinked together and their tongues dueled. Ricardo's moustache tickled Mark's nose and he chuckled softly, enjoying the rough texture. Mark couldn't believe his luck. What he needed had been in front of him all along. He didn't understand how he'd missed it for so long, but now that he had it, he wasn't ever letting go.
\*\*\*\*
Sunday, Aug 12, 2009.
Mark dropped the last glass into the last slot inside the large industrial dish washer and slid the rack into place, slamming the door shut and pushing the buttons that would bring the thing roaring to life. "There. Done! At last. What time is it, anyway?"
Ricardo tied and dropped the last of the trash bags by the back door before coming up behind him. Pressing against Mark's back and wrapping his arms around his torso, Ricardo held his wrist in front of Mark's face, showing him his new watch. The words 'Play Time' were written across the face in bold red letters. The hands on the clock declared it to be almost five in the morning. Damn, it was late!
Ricardo's erection pressed against the back of Mark's thigh and Mark grinned, threading his fingers though Ricardo's and squeezing. "Work's done, babe. It's play time now."
Mark laughed and nodded his agreement. "Damn, Ricky. Let's go home, huh? Where we can play until we both pass out." Ricardo backed off and pulled Mark away from the counter, turning him toward the door. They grabbed the trash bags and headed out the back door, locking up behind them.
"Lead the way, baby. I'm right behind you." Mark took the bags from Ricardo and bent down to kiss him. Ricardo pulled out of the kiss and bent over his motorcycle, unhooking his helmet from the handlebars. Unable to resist, Mark smacked his ass before hurrying off to the dumpster with trash bags.
"I'd follow that ass anywhere. See you at home, babe." He called out as Ricardo climbed onto the bike and revved the engine. He waited until Mark climbed into his car before pulling out of the parking lot with Mark following close behind him, his headlights adding visibility to Ricardo's ride.
They pulled up to the last stop light about a mile from home before they met any other traffic. A large SUV pulled up close behind Mark, too close, tapping his bumper while they waited for the light. Mark ignored it and followed Ricardo through the intersection.
The SUV stayed on his tail, driving dangerously close and flashing his lights like an idiot. Mark slowed down, hoping the jerk would take the hint and back off. Instead, the guy in the SUV leaned on his horn and drove even closer. Mark flashed his lights, signaling for Ricardo to pull over, but he was too late.
The driver of the SUV jerked over into the other lane, gunning his engine and zipping past Mark's car like a maniac. Mark watched in horror as the monstrous vehicle whipped back into the lane in front of him, sideswiping Ricardo's bike and launching the motorcycle and his lover into the guardrail along the side of the road.
"No! Shit. God, no!" Mark didn't know if the words actually made it past his lips or not. It didn't matter. He needed to get to Ricardo, fast.
Mark slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt and barely managing to put his car into park before releasing his seatbelt and tumbling out of the car. He raced across the pavement and into the ditch, clambering over the mangled guardrail to reach his lover's prone body. His legs were twisted at an impossible angle and his left arm was pinned under the front wheel of his bike. Mark knelt on the ground next to him, carefully removing the helmet and cradling Ricardo's head in his lap.
"Ricky! Ricky, baby, can you hear me? Come on, Ricky. Stay with me! Come on, open your eyes. Look at me, damn it!" Ricardo seemed to smile up at him, sucking air in through clenched teeth while his entire body trembled violently in Mark's arms. He squeezed Mark's hand, but he didn't say a word. "Damn it, Ricky! Talk to me!" Mark whispered against his cheek.
A moment later Ricardo's eyes closed and his hand released Mark's fingers. The stuttered breaths and the tremors stopped and Ricardo's body went limp. All Mark could do was sit there, holding onto Ricardo until the paramedics arrived and pulled him away.
Their arrival startled Mark. He had no idea how long they'd been by the side of the road or who had called 911. All he'd been aware of was the sound of his own heart pounding behind his ears. He watched helplessly while the paramedic loaded Ricardo onto a gurney, covering him head to toe with a sheet. He was vaguely aware of the paramedics checking him over, but his full attention was on the gurney that held his lover. His dead lover.
Numb with disbelief, Mark closed his eyes and his heart, hoping to shut out the pain he knew would never go away.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Mark Nelson pulled into the packed parking lot surrounding the bar he'd owned and operated for twenty-five years, and cringed. Cars overflowed into the adjacent lots of the neighboring businesses and lined the streets on both sides of his building. He circled around to the back, parking in the last available space in the employee lot and cutting the engine. His space. The one space that always stayed empty. In front of the parking space stood a large hand-painted sign, something he and Ricardo had come up with after their first year when business had just started to boom.
If you want to drink here
Don't park here.
(Unless you work here.)
In which case,
No drinking on the job!
Over the years it had become his own personal spot---none of the employees dared to park there. For a few minutes he just sat in his car, glaring alternately between the building and everyone who hurried past from the streets, heading for the main entrance. The back door opened briefly and Kim, one of his servers, emerged with a bag of trash hanging from each hand. Mark sighed and opened the car door, resigning himself to the fact that he had to go in there sometime. As he approached the building he checked his watch, instantly regretting it.
The battered piece of jewelry was the one Ricardo had been wearing the night of the accident, the night he'd died. Mark had to smile at the words 'Play Time' written in bold script across the face of the watch. He could almost hear Ricardo's voice, playfully chastising him, reminding him that a packed lot meant a packed bar, which was good business and just good all around! Especially at nine-thirty on a Tuesday night, early yet, and not even a weekend.
Mark blinked back tears and waved at his employee, who was now leaning against the wall, chatting in Korean on his cell phone. The kid waved back and Mark pulled open the door labeled 'authorized personnel only' and let himself in, glancing at the logo on the door as he passed.
Over the years the odd, zigzagging symbol had earned the establishment the nickname 'Ziggy's.' He didn't care for it much, but it really didn't matter to him what people called the place. Originally, the connected letters 'MN' had stood for Mark and Nathan, his first lover-turned-business-partner, but now it served only as a reminder not to become involved with closeted men, romantically or professionally. Since the initials were the same as those of his own name, he'd never bothered to come up with anything else.
Nate had bailed before the place even opened for business. He'd thrown their enterprise away to marry the daughter of a wealthy businessman who owned an up and coming hotel chain. The arrangement provided Nate with everything; a home, a business, the chance to build a powerful reputation, and a rich future. Mark's love and his simple dreams hadn't been enough to compete with all of that.
Mark pushed aside the melancholy thoughts and wove his way through the storage area, indifferently noting the disarray before emerging into the deafening crush of dancing men. Evidence of his success bumped into him from every side as he tried to bob and weave his way through the crowd unmolested.
Almost immediately his head bartender, Louie, a handsome black man in his late thirties, caught his eye and grinned. He waved and gestured for Mark to come around behind the bar where he was working, pouring drinks and dancing to the music blaring from the speakers. Reluctantly, Mark complied. He had hoped to sneak off to his office unnoticed, but now? Well, snubbing Louie just wasn't an option. He was a good friend and a brilliant businessman, and Mark needed him too much to risk either relationship.
"Hey there, boss man! You come out to play tonight, or are you checking up on me?" Louie winked and flashed his startling white smile, and Mark couldn't help but smile back.
"God knows, this place would fall apart if someone didn't keep an eye on you. Don't know why I put up with you." Mark returned Louie's wink, easily transitioning into the familiar role of another bartender, taking orders and mixing drinks for thirsty patrons.
Mark had hired Louie four years ago, and he'd quickly become an invaluable asset to the business, even more so since Ricardo's untimely death. When Mark had fallen apart, Louie had stepped up, taking care of almost every aspect of running the place. Mark promoted him, making him manager, and ever since the bar had practically run itself... Or rather, Louie had run it... or whatever. All Mark had to do anymore was sign on the dotted line where Louie indicated, and write out the checks so that the bills got paid.
Eventually, though, he would have to step back up and take charge or else get out of the business entirely, because this setup wasn't fair to anyone. This place was his dream and the fruit of a hell of a lot of labor over a many, many years. The thought of giving it up turned his stomach almost as badly as the noise and constant movement that surrounded him.
Despite the familiar routine, Mark began to fidget after a few minutes, uncomfortable with being in front of so many people. He'd thrived on it once, but now it wore on his nerves until they were ready to snap. Especially with the added guilt settling in.
When Ricardo died, Mark lost all interest in everything, especially the bar, and he'd considered closing the place down after neglect had nearly run it into the ground. He had promoted Louie as a last ditch effort not to fold, and amazingly Louie had managed to pump life back into the stagnant business. Mark owed Louie a huge debt of gratitude for every day he chose to stay on at the MN, because he simply couldn't handle it on his own anymore.
Glancing around the bar, Mark swore he saw Ricardo's shadow out of the corner of his eye, constantly moving just out of his sight. The memories were everywhere, and even after all this time, they were still too painful for him to face head-on. Trying not to get carried away, he grabbed a rag from under the cash register and began to wipe up the spills on the bar.
Louie eyed him for a few moments, but Mark refused to meet his gaze. He was wiping up imaginary spills by now, but he couldn't stop. He needed to at least maintain the illusion of being busy.
Louie opened a couple bottles of beer and handed them over the bar before moving closer. His hand landed on top of Mark's, squeezing reassuringly and stilling his unnecessary motions. "You all right, boss?"
Mark nodded and backed away from the bar, offering Louie a feeble smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a lot on my mind right now. I thought I'd stop by and see about the bills, maybe run some numbers. I've been thinking about putting a new floor on the stage, maybe even expanding it some. We haven't had any shows in a while, and there are some really good new local bands we could book. Need to do something to keep this place interesting."
"That'd be a good start anyway. The stage has been empty for too long." Louie shook his head, sliding two glasses down the bar to waiting patrons before turning back to face Mark. "Shit man, you really need to think about expanding the whole place. You know we actually reach capacity on the weekends, and we have to turn people away. You ought to think about knocking out that side wall and doubling the size of the club, maybe add a second bar over on the other side, open the place up a little..." Louie's eyes shone in the near darkness as he bit his lower lip, a faraway look crossing his face while he considered the possibilities.
Mark's throat tightened and he thought back to when he held that kind of passion for business and similar hopes for the future. He and Ricardo had discussed many of those same ideas before the accident. But now the thought of expanding filled him with dread and exhaustion as opposed to the excitement he saw on Louie's face. Mark smiled feebly and shook his head. "I'll give it some thought, but... I think, maybe I'm getting too old, getting tired."
Louie blew out an exasperated breath and shook his head. He rounded on Mark, his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. "You aren't old yet, man. You're tired because you keep dragging yourself down and beating yourself up over something you never had any control over! Ricky loved you, man, and he wouldn't want you to sit around mourning him forever like this. It's been a year, Mark, you need to let go. Why don't you get out there on that dance floor, make a friend for the night, huh?"
Mark gritted his teeth and looked out across the bar at the throng of young, sweaty men dancing to a heavy base beat. "You're way out of line, Louie. Eleven months. We were together for twenty-two years, and he's been gone for eleven months. I'm forty-five years old, damn it! I'm not looking for some college kid, and I'm not looking for a good time... I'm not looking at all, okay? Just drop it."
As quickly as it had come, Mark's temper faded, leaving him deflated and ashamed. Louie hadn't meant any harm, and he was right. Although Mark couldn't even imagine dating again, he did need to get out more, and to, as Ricardo would say "live a little!" before he gave in to the depression completely. He just didn't know how anymore. He swallowed and turned away from Louie's hurt expression.
"I'm sorry. I'm the one who's out of line." Mark tossed the rag into the bin behind him and left the bar, turning back to offer Louie a weak, apologetic smile before retreating to his office in the back of the building.
Sitting down at his desk, Mark glared at the three days' worth of mail waiting to be sorted. With a resigned sigh, he got to work sorting through the bills and junk mail. He hated busy work, but it had to be done and pawning it off onto someone else was unthinkable. If nothing else, at least the bills and bookkeeping were still his responsibility.
Finally reaching the bottom of the pile, Mark's hand stilled over a large lavender envelope. When he picked the damned thing up his hand trembled, and a quick glance at the return address confirmed his fears. It was from Nathan and Annabelle Marshall.
Mark's head began to pound and angry tears built behind his eyes. What had he done to deserve the cruel reminder of his first heartbreak? Trying to ignore the painful memories, Mark forced himself to tear it open and slide the card out of the envelope. It was almost identical to the one he'd received twenty-five years ago, with the same paper and the same font. "After twenty-five years of wedded bliss, Mr and Mrs Nathan Marshall will be renewing their vows..."
Twenty-five years. Nate had been married now for twenty-five years. God, how could that be? It just didn't seem real. He didn't love Nate anymore, but he had never been able to completely let go of the hurt from the way things had ended between them. Staring down at his shaking hands, he realized that he still needed closure, and his heart flooded with guilt. He had spent twenty-two years loving a wonderful man who'd loved him back, but through it all, a small part of him had always clung to the dream he'd shared with Nate.
And damn it, his dream had come true, but with Ricardo instead. He should have done something to show his appreciation for Ricardo, to publicly acknowledge the huge role he played in his life. He should have changed the name of the business when Nate left. Ricardo's influence could be seen all over the bar, in the décor and the set-up, the type of music that they played... but Nate's stamp still hung over the door.
A knock on the office door drew him out of his musings, and he glanced up to see the green light next to the door flash, indicating that the pass code had been entered before the door opened. Louie slipped into the office sat on the edge of Mark's desk. "You've been back here a long time, boss man, everything okay?"
Mark picked at the corners of the invitation he held in his hand, trying to decide how best to answer his friend. Louie reached out, touching his hand and then grasping the card between his thumb and forefinger. "May I?"
Mark nodded and Louie took the card from his hands. He laced his fingers together and studied his hands while Louie read the card. Louie snorted and Mark jerked his head up, surprised to find him grinning. "Something funny?"
Louie shook his hand and waved the invitation in Mark's face. "This is perfect! It's exactly what you need. They're friends of yours, right? And they're in Florida, clear across the country! You need to get out of Sacramento for a while, man. Take a vacation---get away from all of this and find some peace."
The look on Louie's face was triumphant, and it made Mark smile. Louie didn't have any idea who Nate was, he wasn't familiar with their history and didn't fully understand what he was suggesting, but Mark had to agree that he was right. He did need to get out of Sacramento, and this was a perfect opportunity. Mark needed a vacation, and more, he needed closure.
Maybe seeing Nate again, still with Annabelle after all of these years, would finally allow him to put their aborted relationship behind him. Maybe he could find a way to bury his first love and to remove the shadow it had cast over the rest of his life.
Mark snatched the card back out of Louie's hand and arched a brow, studying the younger man as he considered his options. "Well, I'd be gone at least a week. Do you really think you can hold this place together on your own for that long?"
Louie jumped off the edge of the desk and whooped for joy. Mark grinned, wondering if he had ever been so young. Finally Louie calmed down and planted both his hands on Mark's desk, leaning over until their noses were only inches apart. "I can keep this place going for however long you want, man. Just get the hell out of here for a while!"
Mark looked down at the invitation one more time and nodded his head. The trip would do him good, and it might provide him with the peace he so desperately needed. His relationship with Nate had ended there, and although he hadn't realized it at the time, that was also where his relationship with Ricardo was born.
Mark wanted to recapture those moments, to rearrange them. He wanted to look on Nate's wedding with a friendly eye, to offer up real congratulations before seeking out the bar where he and Ricardo had shared their first drunken kiss.
Mark met Louie's gaze and nodded. "Okay. I'll go."
Louie grinned and reached out to pat him on the shoulder. "You won't regret this, you'll see."
Mark returned his smile and shrugged. "I sure hope not."
Tuesday, July 27, 2010.
Chancellor Marshall pulled at his shirt collar, fidgeting in the back seat of the cab while sweat trickled down his neck in the muggy Florida heat. The humidity caused the back of his unruly blond hair to stick to his neck, while the rest bushed out in a frizzy mane around his face.
The scenery grew more familiar with every turn and his anxiety grew more intense. It was pathetic, really. He was twenty-one years old, a grown man, but he was still afraid of his parents. In a year he would graduate from his father's alma mater with a business degree he didn't want and the choice of either going to work for his parents at the hotel or growing a backbone and striking out on his own.
Each passing mile carried him closer to his childhood home and the possibility of an unpleasant showdown. His parents were expecting him, of course, but neither his stern father nor aloof mother was expecting his companion.
He glanced across the back seat of the taxi at his beautiful, exotic lover, wondering how Alex would look through his parents' eyes. The tall, slender man had once been a highly sought-after model who now lived quite comfortably off his savings and investments. He'd been discovered at the age of six and worked regularly for twenty years before his retirement from the business two years ago.
Alex caught him staring and shook his dark head, not a hair out of place on his carefully spiked and styled head. He reached over with his neatly manicured hand and brushed the blond locks out of Chance's face, twirling a curl around the tip of his finger and sliding closer to him.
"You should to let me do something about this, sweetie." He pulled at the tangled mess in his hand, rubbing it between his fingers. "Your parents might handle the news better if we make you a bit more presentable first, hmm?" He let go of Chance's hair and trailed his fingers down the side of his cheek. Chance turned into the caress, kissing his finger's before shaking his head adamantly.
"No." He swallowed hard. "My parents aren't going to care how I look, and I would really rather just go ahead and get this over with, you know?" When Alex pulled back, crossing his arms across his chest and jutting his bottom lip out in a practiced pout, Chance knew that he had said the wrong thing. Again.
"Honestly, Chance, I'm beginning to think you're ashamed of me or something!" Alex leaned closer and poked his finger into Chance's chest. "I'm not going to be anyone's dirty little secret, you got that? If you're too embarrassed to even tell your parents about me, well..." He trailed off, sniffling, and flapping his hand in front of his eyes as if to ward off tears.
Chance glanced nervously at the cabbie, catching the man's eyes in the rear view mirror. The driver rolled his eyes, but kept quiet and Chance relaxed, sliding across the seat to wrap his arms around Alex.
"Baby, you know that isn't true. I'm open about our relationship back home, aren't I? All our friends know... But I'm not very close to my parents, and they can be... harsh. I can't help it that I'm nervous."
He pressed their foreheads together, staring earnestly into Alex's dark blue eyes. "I don't know how they're going to react to us, Alex. Telling them that I'm gay, it's scary. I'm not ashamed of you or us, but... I don't want to see you get hurt... and damn it, I'm afraid of getting hurt, too! I just don't want to put this off anymore. Thank you so much for coming with me."
The taxi pulled to a stop at the curb outside of the Grand Chancellor Hotel and any reply Alex might have made was lost. Chance took a deep breath and nodded, pulling away and offering what he hoped was a confident and reassuring smile. "Come on now, time to meet the parents."
Chance paid the driver, and they followed as the driver carried their bags into the spacious lobby of the hotel. Alex stopped half way across the room and let go of Chance's hand, turning in a slow circle and taking in the ornate décor.
"Damn, Chance. When you said your parents owned a hotel I was expecting something more like a Holiday Inn. You grew up here?"
Chance smiled, pleased with Alex's reaction. With as many hotels as Alex had been in during his career, Chance had worried his home would pale by comparison.
"Chance, you're home!" An ear-splitting squeal from behind the reception desk had Chance turning around just in time to catch the freckled redhead as she launched herself into his arms. Though two years his junior, the skinny girl stood at least six inches taller, and Chance barely managed to maintain his balance when she crashed into him. The daughter of his childhood nanny, Beverly had been his best friend growing up, and was the only person at home he'd trusted with his secret.
"Good God, woman! I won't be here for long if you don't let go and let me breathe. Geez!" Beverly untangled herself from around his neck, smacked the side of his head and glared down at him. Behind her the other desk clerk was reaching for his telephone and motioning for Chance to come to the desk.
"Yes, he just arrived... Yes... of course, ma'am. I'll let him know." He motioned again and Chance nodded, taking Alex's hand and following Beverly back to the desk. She went around behind the counter and scowled at her co-worker, who was impatiently tapping his fingers on the desk and eying Chance and Alex with disgust.
"I've got this, Jake, thank you." The guy shrugged, rolling his eyes, and left the counter, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and heading for the exit across the lobby. Beverly snorted, and then turned her attention back to Chance, noticing Alex for the first time. Her mouth fell open while her eyes swept up and down Alex's impressive frame. Alex smiled and she blushed, grinning back, her cheeks pinking so darkly they rivaled her hair.
"I, uh... see you brought a friend with you." Beverly turned back to Chance, grinning and glancing pointedly at their clasped hands and raising her eyebrows. "Will you need another room?" She was already clicking away on her keyboard, pulling up the reservations screen.
"Don't be a smartass." Chance laughed and snatched a pen off the counter, throwing it at her before ducking behind Alex. She retaliated by throwing her own pen without bothering to look up, and the projectile bounced off Alex's shoulder.
"Ow!" Alex winced and grabbed his shoulder dramatically, rubbing at the abused area. Beverly looked up, her eyes going wide and her hand covering her mouth. Chance tried not to laugh, but Beverly's mortified expression was priceless, and despite his best efforts he was soon doubled over with mirth.
"Oh, shit, I am so sorry!" Beverly jumped to her feet, twisting her hands in front of her and Chance laughed even harder. Alex was grinning again, his shoulders shaking with his own suppressed laughter, and Beverly's eyes narrowed. "Oh, great! Another comedian."
Alex cleared his throat and bent down to retrieve the pen. He handed it back to Beverly, who snatched it out of his hand. "Honestly, dear, couldn't you have at least waited until we were introduced before attacking me? I'm harmless, I swear."
Alex batted his eyes and Beverly giggled. "I doubt that very much. I'm Beverly Davis, Chance's best friend, and you are?"
"Oh, really Chancellor, your best friend hasn't even heard about me yet?" Chance cringed at the use of his full first name, hating how pretentious it sounded. He'd been saddled with his mother's maiden name in honor of her father, who'd given them the hotel as a wedding present. Alex knew that he hated the name, but Chance chose not to complain. Alex wasn't actually angry, at least not yet, and he didn't want to make the situation worse. Instead he sidled up next to Alex and grinned up at Beverly.
"Bev, this is Alex Sharp. My boyfriend." Alex rewarded him with a beaming smile before reaching out and offering Beverly his hand to shake. She took it, squeezing hard enough that Alex grimaced. Chance hid a grin behind his hand, remembering the countless arm-wrestling matches he'd lost over the years to the surprisingly strong girl. "Okay, enough already! He needs that hand intact."
Beverly released Alex's hand and made an unladylike snort, leering suggestively between the two of them. "Yeah, I'll just bet he does."
Chance groaned and buried his face in his hands. Alex and Beverly were both laughing. Before either of them could say anything to add to his mortification the phone rang and Beverly excused herself to answer it, sparing him, he hoped, from any further embarrassment.
"Damn, babe, you sure know how to pick 'em." Alex's breath tickled over the shell of his ear and Chance smiled, glad his best friend at least had made a good impression.
"I picked you, didn't I?" Chance whispered back, wishing he had the guts to turn his head and take a kiss. Public displays of affection weren't his style though, especially not in the middle of his parent's hotel. Holding hands with his lover was as bold as he dared to get.
Beverly placed the receiver back on the cradle and grabbed two key cards, hurrying back over to them with a frown on her face. "That was your mother, Chance. She asked me to tell you not to keep your father waiting. Apparently it's been ten whole minutes since Jake called to let them know you were here."
Beverly rolled her eyes, sliding each of the cards through the machine mounted on the side of her computer monitor, activating them for Chance's usual suite of rooms. She handed them to Chance, catching his hand in hers before he could go. "So, I guess you're going to tell them now, huh?" She nodded her head in Alex's direction.
Chance nodded. Swallowing nervously, he backed away from the counter and shrugged, running his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, I am. It's time, and, uh... well, I guess I'd better get on up there."
Beverly smiled encouragingly and Chance led Alex to the elevator. After they'd climbed in, Beverly called out to them. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Alex. And, Chance? I'm proud of you!"
Chance smiled his thanks as the doors closed between them. His hands were shaking and sweat was starting to pool in his palms as he reached over to push the button for the top floor. The elevator began to climb and Alex crowded him into the corner, bending over him and placing his hands on the walls on either side of Chance's head.
"Alone at last, for a minute anyway." Alex leaned his head forward, angling for a kiss, but Chance ducked out from under his arm, moving to the other side of the elevator car. He cast a quick glance into the corner where the security camera was mounted, and then turned back to face his upset lover.
Alex was leaning back against the mirrored wall with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs crossed at the ankles. He was glowering at Chance, and his lips were pursed in an angry scowl. Chance's reticence in public settings was a strong source of contention between them, and Alex's reaction was nothing new, but right now, Chance didn't have time to grovel.
"There are cameras everywhere, Alex. The only time you can really count on privacy around here is when you're behind a locked door." Alex rolled his eyes and pushed up off the wall behind him, standing so that he towered over Chance.
"Oh, come on! Why does it matter? Kissing isn't a crime and the security guys aren't going to pay any attention to two men kissing in the elevator." Alex was truly upset; Chance could tell because his eyebrows were drawn together, something he rarely did for fear of causing wrinkles. Chance considered pointing out that he'd grown up here, the guards knew him personally, and they'd notice quick enough if one of the kissing men was the boss's son, but he held his tongue.
The lighted numbers above the door indicated they were halfway to their destination, and briefly he wondered if he'd still have a boyfriend to introduce when the car stopped.
"I'm sorry." It was all Chance could think to say, and Alex didn't bother to reply. They rode the rest of the way up in silence, not touching or even looking at each other. The time seemed to drag on forever.
Finally the elevator doors slid open and Chance led them out into the hallway and risked a glance over his shoulder. Alex wasn't frowning anymore, his expression was calm and polite, but he wouldn't meet Chance's eye. Chance smiled at him anyway, hoping he would be understanding.
The door to his parents' suite opened before the elevator even closed behind them. His mother glided out to meet him, extending her hand as if he were a visiting dignitary and not her own son. Chance took her hand, squeezing briefly and leaning forward to kiss her cheek. They were about the same height. She was tall for a woman at five feet eight, he was short for a man---and being in her presence still made him feel like a small boy. "Hello, Mother."
"Chancellor, welcome home!"
She eyed Alex critically, her raised eyebrows the only visible sign of her surprise as she extended her hand to him also.
"And you brought a friend with you? How wonderful!" She flashed a radiant smile at Alex before returning her curious gaze to her son. "Aren't you going to introduce us, dear?"
"Well, uh yeah, but... let's go inside first? I'd like to make all the introductions at once."
Out of the corner of his eye, Chance saw Alex frown but he ignored it. Chance didn't think he could make his announcement twice. It was far better to get it all over with at once. He needed to do this his way. He only hoped he could sort things out with Alex later when they were alone.
The trio entered the family suite with his mother leading the way, ushering them into the ornate parlor where his father sat waiting.
"Nathan, dear, Chancellor is here, and he's brought a friend with him."
"Yes, I can see that. Welcome home, son!"
The time that Chance spent with his father always made him uncomfortable as he struggled to impress the man and fought to keep his interest. Now, as Nathan Marshall rose from his chair and stalked across the room to greet them, Chance felt that familiar pang of stress and dread settle in his stomach. His father was six feet tall and moved like a predator, sure and dangerous, his eyes locked on Chance's. His face showed no emotion---it seldom did---and his unwavering gaze added to Chance's nervousness.
Most people were intimidated by Nathan Marshall, and Chance was certain his father wanted it that way. Despite being of average height and build, his father's presence tended to overfill any room due to his grim, ruthless intensity.
Chance wiped the sweat from his hand before holding it out. "Hello, sir. How are you?"
"Fine, son, fine!" His father took his hand and pulled him in for a fierce hug, slapping him hard on the back a few times before releasing him. The hug was unexpected, something he couldn't remember his father ever doing, and it caught him off guard.
"So, who's this you brought with you?" When his father turned his attention to Alex, looking him over from head to toe, Chance began to tremble, stuttering out his response.
"Mom, Dad... t-this is Alex Sharp," He looked up into Alex's face, silently begging his support. Alex arched an eyebrow, expectantly waiting to hear how Chance would explain his presence. Chance smiled weakly and took a deep breath, lowering his eyes and forcing the rest out with his exhaled breath. "He's my boyfriend."
At first his declaration was met with silence, stretching on for maybe twenty seconds. His parents shared a look between them, conversing without words before his mother stepped forward and offered her hand to Alex.
"Well, this is a surprise. It's a pleasure to meet you, Alex. Please, won't you come in and sit?"
"Thank you, Mrs Marshall. The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure." Alex accepted her handshake and followed her into the parlor. His mother sat in her customary chair and Alex sat on the couch across from her.
Stunned by his mother's casual reaction, Chance dared a glance at his father, hoping to gauge his reaction. The look in his father's eyes confused him. He didn't know how to describe it; not angry exactly, not disgusted, but interested. He smiled knowingly at Chance, slapping him on the shoulder and steering him into the parlor. Chance settled onto the sofa next to Alex, who immediately took his hand while his father settled into the seat next to his wife.
"Well now, Alex, is it? Why don't you tell us a little about yourself? Did you two meet at school?"
Excited by the attention, Alex launched into a colorful narration detailing his career. His parents were both apparently listening with rapt attention, making Alex feel welcome while Chance sat by, stunned. He pinched himself, convinced he had to be dreaming. This couldn't be happening, could it?
His parents and his lover sat together, talking and laughing like old friends and Chance forced himself to join in, trying to ignore the insistent feeling that he had somehow stepped into an alternate dimension.
\*\*\*\*
Several hours later, Chance followed Alex into their suite and closed the door behind them. He turned and leaned with his back against the door, finally allowing the tension to leave his neck and shoulders. Alex and his parents had chatted for hours, laughing and joking while Chance watched in amazement. They had even eaten dinner with his parents and the experience left him tense, his feelings raw.
Chance watched while Alex undressed. His tie landed on the bed, his shirt falling to the floor at his feet. "Oh, my god, Chance! Your parents are amazing! I can't believe you were so worried about coming out to them. I mean, really. They were dolls! The way you went on about them I was expecting warty trolls who breathed fire." Alex shot him a dirty look before grabbing his toiletry bag and heading into the bathroom.
Chance sighed and pushed away from the door, gathering up Alex's discarded clothes before walking over to his own bag, which had been left on top of his usual dresser. He unzipped his suitcase and dug around looking for his shaving kit. He opened it and smiled, pulling out the condoms and lube he'd stashed inside.
Alex had quickly figured out on their first date that Chance was a virgin. Ever since, Chance had tried repeatedly to entice Alex into fucking him, but he always refused. They'd shared hand jobs and exchanged incredible blow jobs, but Alex refused to take things any further. He wouldn't even move in with Chance, not until he was convinced that Chance was ready to take things to the next level.
Chance appreciated Alex's consideration at first, even found it romantic, but now? Now Chance was beginning to resent it. He was ready, and he was old enough to make that decision for himself. Alex was treating him like a child rather than a partner, and Chance hoped that this trip would change that. He wanted Alex would see him for the man that he was, to respect him.
"All done. The bathroom's yours, sweet cheeks." Alex glided out of the bathroom in nothing but his boxers, climbing into bed without so much as glancing at Chance. Chance didn't bother going into the bathroom to undress. He stripped and turned out the lights, climbing into the bed with Alex. Alex was lying on his back and Chance scooted up close to him, pressing his erection into Alex's thigh and reaching under the cover to fondle Alex's cock.
"Make love to me?" Chance kissed Alex's cheek and then licked the edge of his ear, sticking his tongue inside. He still had the condoms and lube clutched in his other hand, and he laid them carefully on Alex's chest.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Chance!" Alex slapped the supplies off his chest and onto the floor and pushed Chance away. Even in the dark of the room Chance could see the scowl on his face. Alex rolled away from him, putting his back to Chance and leaving a large space between them. "Is that all I am to you? Sex? Is that all you care about?"
"What? No! I just thought..." Chance reached out and touched Alex's shoulder, but Alex shrugged him off and slid farther away.
"Well, you thought wrong! I'm tired, Chance. We've been up since six, spent the morning on a plane, and then we got here and you freaked out, you wouldn't even kiss me! Now you think we're going to fuck like bunnies and make up? Forget it. Go to sleep, Chance."
Chance rolled onto his back and threw his arm over his eyes. He could feel his face heating and his erection was now a distant memory. He sighed and settled back on to the mattress, trying to wish himself to sleep. Things would get better in the morning, right?
Thursday, July 29, 2010.
"Good evening, sir, and welcome to the Grand Chancellor Hotel." The perky redhead smiled at Mark from behind the checkin counter in the extravagant hotel lobby. "Do you have a reservation with us?"
"Yes, I do," Mark said. "It's under---"
Two men emerged from a door off to the side of the lobby, one issuing orders that drowned out Mark's words, "Beverly, Mr Stallings here is going to need one of the conference rooms from October 7th through the 10th. Could you take care of it for me? Oh, and be sure to reserve twenty rooms under his name, as well."
Mark froze at the sound of that voice. He watched, dumbstruck, as the men shook hands and the younger of the two headed for the exit while the other approached the counter.
The girl behind the desk began typing furiously, an impatient frown marring her freckled face. "Yes, of course. Just one moment, sir. I was about to get this gentleman here checked in. What was your name, sir?"
Mark had no time to answer. The businessman turned and looked at him, recognition immediately lighting in his eyes. "Holy shit. Mark Nelson!"
Mark looked down at the familiar face of Nathan Marshall and tried to remember how to breathe. Nate was still stunning, the same blond hair and piercing blue eyes, the same firm athletic build filling out a pair of slacks and a clinging, white dress shirt. Mark found himself suddenly embraced by his former lover in a macho hug, Nate slapping his back harder than necessary. The man hadn't changed at all.
"Good to see you again, Nate."
Nate stepped back and looked him over, his eyes raking over Mark's body like a caress, and Mark's knees nearly gave out under him.
"God Mark, you're fucking huge! Looking good!" Nate reached out and squeezed the muscles in his arm and Mark's face heated in a pleased but embarrassed blush. He'd been awkward and gangly in his youth, a high metabolism keeping his six foot five inch frame thin and almost gaunt. He'd been too clumsy to consider sports, but Ricardo had encouraged him to go to the gym regularly after Nate bailed on him, and as he'd matured it had paid off, allowing him to bulk up and fill out.
"You haven't changed a bit, Nate, not at all. It's great to see you again. It's been too long." Mark covered Nate's hand with his own and smiled fondly at him. He was surprised when a sudden rush of butterflies invaded his stomach. Nate still turned him on as much as he had twenty-five years ago. He hadn't expected that, not at all.
The receptionist cleared her throat and tapped a key card against the counter to get Mark's attention. Her eyes were narrowed, but she smiled as she held the card out to him. "You'll be in room 709, Mr Nelson. Carl can show you the way."
A bored-looking teenager appeared from behind them and reached for Mark's bag. Nate released Mark's arm and grabbed the bag himself, shaking his head at the teenager. "That won't be necessary, Carl. I'll show my friend to his room myself. We have a lot of catching up to do."
Mark nodded his thanks to them both before following Nate to the elevator. He pushed the button for the seventh floor, surreptitiously admiring Nate's reflection as he bent over to set Mark's bag on the floor. The car began to move, and Nate stepped closer, reaching out and brushing imaginary lint off Mark's shirt.
"I knew you would come. You never were able to resist coming for me."
Nate's hand brushed quickly over Mark's groin, and Mark jumped in surprise, caught off guard by the playful grope.
"It's been a long time. I've wondered how you've been, how you've changed. I've missed you." Mark bit his tongue, regretting the words the moment they left his mouth.
Nate grinned back up at him. "Well, I'm very glad you're here."
The doors opened and Nate led him down the hallway. When they reached the room, Nate pulled out a card from his wallet and used it to open Mark's door. "Passkey," he explained as Mark followed him in. Closing the door behind them, Nate held up Mark's bag. "Where do you want this?"
Mark grabbed the handle, unsettled by how nervous he felt about being alone with Nate. "I'll take it." He carried the bag over to the dresser, putting some much needed distance between himself and Nate. He took a deep breath before bending over the bag to unpack his things. His body remembered Nate, and embarrassingly, it still responded to him the way it had when they were together. He needed to get himself back under control before he did or said something stupid.
With his pulse pounding in his ears he didn't hear Nate approach, but a moment later he felt Nate's hands on his shoulders, pushing him down further over the dresser top. Stunned, he stood passive as Nate ground his solid erection against his ass, his hands sliding down Mark's back and grasping his hips.
"Damn, Mark, this brings back memories, seeing you bent over the furniture like this," Nate breathed into his ear, pushing a knee between Mark's thighs and spreading his legs.
Mark closed his eyes and slumped down over his bag, clutching the sides of the dresser. He was so turned on it hurt, memories of his time with Nate flooding his senses. "You have no idea how much I missed this, missed you. Missed having you inside me."
Nate's hand slid around to Mark's fly, opening his pants and closing on Mark's solid erection. "Yeah. You want that now, don't you? You want my dick up your ass, pounding you raw. That's what you came for, isn't it?"
Mark groaned, overwhelmed by the sensations of having Nate pressed against his back, his erection aching painfully as Nate fondled him with rough, hard tugs.
"Aw, fuck, Nate! Fuck!" One of Mark's hands joined Nate's inside his pants. Nate slid his hand down Mark's shaft and grabbed his balls, tugging them sharply before stepping back and smacking him on the ass. Mark stroked himself to the sounds of clinking of metal and rustling of fabric behind him.
"Oh, I intend to buddy. Don't you worry about that."
Mark's legs began to tremble with anticipation, and for an all too brief moment they were kids again, lovers again. With his eyes closed tight and the man he'd been in love with pressed against him, Mark could believe they were back in their apartment twenty-five years earlier, that nothing had changed.
But as his pants slid down around his thighs and the cool air from the hotel room washed over his bare ass, Mark forced his eyes open. Staring back at him from the mirror on top of the dresser, he faced his own reflection, with its gray hairs peppered into his close-cut black hair, the deep lines around his troubled brown eyes. A glint of light sparkled off the edge of Ricardo's watch, reminding Mark that he and Nate weren't kids anymore. They were no longer lovers---or even friends--- at this point. They were strangers now, with nothing between them but bad memories.
His erection began to flag with his conflicting emotions, and Mark drew himself up to his full height. He grabbed his pants and pulled them back up before turning to face his former lover. Nate had his pants open and his shaft in hand, leisurely stroking himself as he watched Mark. Nate's cock was swollen and dripping pre-cum, and despite his resolve not to take this any further, Mark couldn't stop himself from licking his lips.
Nate noticed, of course, and a smarmy grin split his handsome face. "You want to suck me first, buddy?"
Nate really hadn't changed one bit, and Mark found himself swallowing back bile as he studied the lustful yet emotionless expression on Nate's face. Mark's anger made him bold, and he closed the distance between himself and Nate, caressing the smaller man's lips with the index finger of one hand and grabbing his ass with the other. "Or you could suck me first; before I spread you out on that bed over there and nail you into the mattress."
Nate eyes flashed with anger and he quickly stepped away, glaring up at Mark. "You stupid, fucking tease! I saw how excited you were, bent over for me just now. You want it as badly as I do, so why waste time with these stupid games? Just drop your pants and I can give you what you really want."
Nate's words hit Mark like a slap in the face, cruelly reminding him of how one-sided their relationship had always been. He tried to suppress the shudder Nate's words invoked. This man had been his world once, and it embarrassed him to realize how completely selfish Nate really was.
Mark hadn't come for a last fling with an old flame. He'd come hoping to find a good man madly in love with his wife and leading a happy life. Instead, he found the same cold-hearted bastard he'd once foolishly loved, expecting Mark to fall to his knees and worship him. He had expected better, but after this, he could definitely close the door and walk away the way he should have done all those years ago. "You should go." Mark zipped up his pants and looked down into Nate's angry eyes.
Nate tugged firmly on his cock and again closed the distance between the two men, reaching for the zipper on Mark's pants. "Really, Mark, let me at least give you what you came for first. You know you want it."
Mark slapped his hand away and stepped back out of his reach. "I don't sleep with married men, asshole. I'm here for your anniversary, you prick!"
Nate smirked and shook his head, chuckling at Mark's reaction. "Still the sentimental fool you always were, aren't you? Fine. You can have it your way for now." He shrugged and carefully tucked himself back into his pants, zipping back up. "But we both know you didn't come all this way just to congratulate me. You'll be on your hands and knees begging me for it before this week ends, and we both know it." Nate opened the door, pausing only long enough to wink over his shoulder before disappearing into the hallway.
The door closed behind the arrogant prick and Mark sat abruptly on the edge of the dresser. He drew in a shaky breath, fighting off the sting of angry tears. He couldn't believe how close he'd come to having sex with that bastard. He shouldn't have come here. He should have thrown the damn envelope away unopened and left things the way they were. But no. He had to come back for more of the same abuse Nate had given him the last time. Nate was right about one thing: Mark never could refuse him anything. Whenever Nate called, guess who came running? Twenty-five years and a real, loving relationship later and Nate still had him on the edge.
But Nate hadn't gotten what he wanted, had he? Mark swiped his hands across his eyes and stood up. This trip had already served a purpose. Seeing Nate again hurt, but it was like having a broken bone set. He had to endure the pain of everything being shoved into place so he could heal properly.
Mark dug his cell phone out of his pocket, dialing a number he should have called long ago. The call was answered on the second ring, and the voice of Ricardo's brother, Manuel, sounded in Mark's ear.
"Hola?"
"Hola, hermano!" Mark clutched the phone and smiled. Manny's familiar voice, so like his brother's, soothed away the tension that had built inside Mark during his confrontation with Nate.
"Mark? Is that you? It's been a long time, mijo, a really long time."
Mark's smile faltered, remembering guiltily that the last time he'd seen his brother-in-law was at Ricardo's funeral.
"I know. I'm sorry, Manny. How have you been? How's business?"
Manny was an engineer with a crew of skilled laborers, freelance carpenters and construction workers who hired out their services to companies running behind on their deadlines. When business was slow, they took on odd jobs remodeling kitchens and bathrooms or building gazebos and benches for wealthy locals.
"Slow. Not much happening in the city right now. We put up a new wrap-around porch last week, repaired a few roofs. Nothing exciting, though. What about you, the bar still hopping?"
"Well, actually, yeah. Yeah, the bar hasn't slowed down a bit. Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I was wondering if maybe you and your guys might still be interested in expanding the place for me, like we were planning, before..."
Before Ricardo died.
Mark didn't finish the thought; he didn't have to. Ricardo had asked his brother to draw up plans for expanding the bar several months before his accident. They were going to knock out the far wall, raise the stage, and build a balcony for added floor space.
"Hell, yes! Me and some of the guys, we were talking about that just the other day, wondering when you were ever going to call. Are you ready for this?"
Mark laughed at the man's exuberance, his excitement returning after a long dormant stretch. "I think it's time. The place has been too small for a long time, and if I don't do something soon the overcrowding problem will force people to find somewhere else to go, if the outdated style doesn't run them off first."
"Well, then let's do this thing! You still happy with the plans we made before, or do you want me to draw up something new?"
Mark considered the question for a while, remembering Louie's suggestion that they add a second bar and Ricardo's dream of adding a game room in back. If he was going to do this, why not do it right? "Actually, Manny, I've got a few more ideas I'd like to run by you."
"Great! I'll dig out the old plans and we can go over them, see what kind of changes you want to make. When do you want to get started?"
Mark could hear the excitement in Manny's voice and he grinned, glad that he'd found an ally. Manny had been a part of the crew that fixed the place up when he'd first bought it. It felt right, having him on board again now.
"I'm ready, Manny. Does next week work for you?"
"That soon? You're serious?"
"I've put this off long enough. I don't want to give myself a chance to back out. I... I need this. The sooner we get the plans together, the sooner we can get started. I fly back in Sunday morning. We could go over the plans Sunday night. What do you say?" Mark caught himself picking at the hotel wallpaper, nervously waiting for Manny's reply. He stopped himself and sat down heavily on the bed.
"Fly back in? Demonios.Where are you? Is everything okay? What happened Mark?" Manny's reply caught Mark off guard. He'd forgotten how perceptive the man was. He could read Mark almost as well as Ricardo had.
Mark smiled and released the tension in his shoulders. It felt good to talk to family again. "Everything's fine, I swear. I'm in Florida. Got an invite to Nate Marshall's anniversary party, and I thought I'd check it out. Get away for a bit, you know?" Mark realized he was plucking anxiously at the bedspread and he chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I should have done this a long time ago, Manny. The bar isn't big enough for the business it's doing, hasn't been in years. If I don't do something soon I'm going to run the place into the ground, and it's going to take me down with it. Help me?"
Mark held his breath and waited to hear what Manny would say. A minute passed before he heard Manny's heavy sigh.
"Okay, mijo. I'll see you Sunday."
\*\*\*\*
An hour later Mark hung up the phone, finishing his last call. He'd talked with Louie and explained the plan to his eager manager. As he'd expected, Louie had as many ideas as he did. The planning meeting with Manny was going to be a riot.
In the meantime, however, he didn't plan to stay holed up in his hotel room. A part of him was still looking forward to the symbolic farewell Nate's ceremony represented for him, but he had other plans too. Before leaving home he'd gone online and looked up the local night life, searching for the bar he and Ricardo had gone to after Nate's wedding. It was still there, and more than anything Mark wanted to visit it again. There he could let his inhibitions go. He could be whoever he wanted to be.
With that in mind, Mark turned to rummage in his open suitcase. He pulled out a black tee shirt, black jeans, and Ricardo's old leather vest. He unzipped his shaving kit, grabbed the new box of condoms he'd packed on a whim before leaving home, and shoved the whole bunch into the front pocket of his jeans. It was good to be optimistic, right?
With his clothes laid out on the bed, ready to go, Mark grabbed the shaving kit and hurried into the bathroom. He removed his watch, setting it on the sink for safekeeping before turning on the shower. As he pulled the curtain shut, Mark saw the light reflected off the face of the watch and imagined it winking at him. He could almost hear Ricardo's voice declaring that it was "play time."
He took it as a sign of Ricardo's approval, as permission to move on. At peace, and even happy for the first time in a year, Mark stepped under the steaming spray, washing away the dirt from his travels and the lingering filth he felt from Nate's touch.
Chance spent the two days following their arrival moping around the hotel and trying to stay out of the way. The place was in a frenzy of activity in preparation for the big event, and Chance didn't want any part of it. The celebration his parents had planned for their Silver Anniversary was extravagant, the biggest production the hotel had ever seen, and even more lavish than the wedding had been.
Chance found the whole thing ridiculous. His parents didn't even share a room anymore; they hadn't since he'd been a small child. He couldn't even remember the last time he saw them kiss or hold hands. They had a very successful business relationship, but their personal relationship seemed nonexistent. He couldn't understand the desire to make an elaborate show of renewing vows they'd been indifferent to for twenty years.
Alex had grown cold and distant toward him since the night they arrived, ignoring all of Chance's sexual advances whenever he tried to initiate anything in the bedroom. Alex was pulling away, leaving Chance with the distinct impression that he would be losing his boyfriend this trip, rather than the last of his virginity.
At least Alex was enjoying all the activity, offering his advice and assistance to Chance's parents at every opportunity while avoiding Chance whenever possible. Strangely, Alex appeared almost desperate to impress Nathan Marshall, and frequently got carried away in the excitement around him. Much to Chance's dismay, his father responded with condescending looks and remarks that Alex seemed not to notice. The older man was obviously getting a kick out of mocking the oblivious younger man and rubbing it in his son's face.
A man can only take so much abuse, and Chance had reached his limit. Embarrassed for Alex and disgusted with his father, Chance needed to get away. He found his opportunity that evening when his mother complained about several errands she needed done to clear up some last-minute details. Chance volunteered to take care of them for her and headed into the city. The trip was long and tiring, but still a blessed relief from the stress of being around a cold and distant Alex.
In the taxi on the way back, Chance removed the rubber band holding his unruly curls back out of his face and let out a sharp hiss of pain. He ran his fingers through the tangled mess as the cab pulled up to the curb in front of the hotel, trying to smooth it enough to be presentable. His father had once yelled at him for wearing his hair in a ponytail, insisting it made him look like a lazy slob. Away from his parents, he regularly tied his hair back, but he never dared to defy his father to his face. As much as he hated and feared the old man, deep down Chance still craved his acceptance.
Leaning into the cab to pay the driver, Chance caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror on the side of the car. It took an effort not to laugh out loud. The humidity of the Miami heat caused his hair to frizz around his head, making him look like the lead singer from some eighties bad-hair band. If he hoped to look presentable for the ceremony on Saturday he would have to do something about it. Perhaps it was time to let Alex have his way and slick it back with some of his awful gel.
He smiled to himself as he crossed the lobby to the elevator, thinking about how excited Alex would be to finally get his hands on Chance's hair. Alex frequently bemoaned his lack of fashion sense and begged to give him a makeover. Well, now would be the perfect time to give in, wouldn't it? He could please his parents by looking good for once and give Alex a thrill in the process. Perhaps this was the way to win back his fickle affections.
He congratulated himself on his perfect plan while walked down the hall to his suite and let himself in. Was Alex back yet? Rounding the corner and heading into the living room area, Chance froze, the blood draining from his face. Alex was back, all right.
\*\*\*\*
Nathan Marshall leaned back against the couch, thrusting his hips as he pushed his swollen dick even deeper down the eager throat of his son's lover. The silly slut had a talented tongue that almost made up for the disappointment he'd felt when Mark had sent him away an hour ago, choosing to play hard to get.
For the past few days Nate had watched his son fall all over himself, trying to hold the attention of his foolish companion. It sickened Nate to watch his son risk his reputation and his future on half-baked illusions of love.
He could see the appeal, of course. He understood it all too well. Alex was a beautiful creature, much like Mark had been, and twenty-five years ago he'd almost made the same mistake. If his own father hadn't stepped in and set him straight, he would have set up house with Mark and faded into obscurity.
Instead, he'd chosen to follow his father's advice by marrying a wealthy woman. That decision had provided him with a comfortable income and allowed him the freedom to take advantage of whatever pleasures he chose, so long as he remained discreet. Chancellor could have that too. Nate needed to explain to his son what it meant to be a man, and he had to do it soon, before the poor boy became a simpering fool like the one kneeling in front of him humping his leg.
Alex hummed with appreciation as he slid his mouth up Nate's length to tease the slit with his tongue. Nate threw his head back and closed his eyes, scooting his ass out to the edge of the couch. He could feel his orgasm starting to build, and he fisted his hands in the pretty boy's hair, holding his head still so he could grind his pelvis against his face. Nate felt Alex convulse against his leg, coming in his designer jeans while Nate's spunk flooded his throat. Out of breath, he fell back onto the couch and opened his eyes.
His son stood in the doorway with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide with shock. Good, he thought, releasing the death grip he had in the young twink's hair. He chuckled, realizing that he couldn't have timed this better if he'd tried. Now the boy could see for himself how pathetic and worthless cocksuckers like Alex were. Such a raw and honest display should end all of his notions of romance and relationships.
Nate drew one corner of his mouth up in a sarcastic smile as he caressed the side of Alex's face. The stupid slut continued kissing his balls and nuzzling the softening organ in front of him, unaware that his boyfriend had returned and now stood in the doorway, watching.
Nate caught his son's eyes and leaned back, ruffling Alex's disheveled hair. "After all those hours I spent listening to him talk and talk, I realized something," he said, tucking himself back into his pants as Alex sat back, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "All the exercise his mouth gets must be what attracted you to him in the first place."
Alex's eyes grew wide with understanding before he finally looked back over his shoulder. "Aw, fuck!" he exclaimed, scrambling to his feet and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Slowly he walked over to where Chancellor stood and reached out to touch his face. "Chance, I'm so sorry. It wasn't working out between us, you know? I..."
"Get your fucking hands off me!" Chance slapped his hand away. "What the hell was I thinking, trusting you? You fucking asshole!"
"Chance, please. Let me explain." Alex moved toward him again, and again Chance backed away. "Explain? Explain what? You just sucked off my fucking father! What the hell is there to explain?"
"I'm not cut out for relationships, Chance. I just can't..." Alex began to sob, choking on his words while Chance glared at him from an arm's length away.
Nate got up and righted his pants, tucking his shirt back in before approaching the pair. He saw no reason to prolong the pointless, emotional scene. When he reached them, he grabbed the whore by the shoulders, gripping them hard to ensure he had his attention. "You've said quite enough, don't you think? Why don't you go and change your pants while I have a word with my son."
Alex turned to Chance, his eyes pleading for understanding, but Chance refused to look back. Finally, Alex nodded and stumbled off toward the bedroom. Nate turned his attention back to his conflicted son, trying to choose his words carefully. He needed to make sure Chance understood the difference between himself and the effeminate bitch in the other room.
"Son, I should have had this talk with you years ago. I could have saved you the confusion and both of us the embarrassment of this visit, but better late than never, right?"
Chancellor whipped his head around and glared up at him, rage clearly written on his face. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"That little whore in there---he's nothing, you hear me? He's just a lazy-ass fool with no brains and no ambitions. Instead of trying to make something of himself, he's using his looks and his body to get what he wants, just like a fucking woman. Men like you and me, we're different. Smarter. Alex isn't your boyfriend or you partner or your lover or any of that shit. Love isn't real---it's a trap to trick us into taking care of people who are too weak, too stupid or too lazy to take care of themselves."
Chancellor shook his head, and for the first time he could remember the boy looked him in the eye before responding. "That's bullshit!"
Nate reached out and grabbed his son's shoulders, shaking him roughly. "Any man who would go down on his knees or spread his legs for another man is worthless, plain and simple. They realize that it's a lot easier to put out than it is to put in the effort to make something of themselves. Now, if you want to fuck them, fine! God knows they aren't good for anything else, but they are not your equals."
Nate punctuated the last sentence by slamming the obstinate boy against the wall, hoping that some of what he said would seep into his hard head. Chance didn't saying anything. He didn't even blink. "Forget about love and this crazy gay rubbish. Sex is your right as a man and you don't have to trade your life for it. You can get it from anyone anytime you want it, and they'll thank you for the privilege! Trust me, I know. Just don't let anyone fuck you, understand? You can dish it out all you want, but you don't take any shit from anyone."
Finally Chancellor showed signs of life. He set his mouth in a grim line and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall behind him. "Are you finished?"
Nate nodded, impressed by the unexpected show of strength. He'd said all he had to say, and now he had to trust his son to take his advice to heart. Alex had cleaned himself up, and was now hovering in the door to the bedroom. Nate leaned close to his son so he could whisper in his ear. "You look like you could use a drink. Go ahead, I'll get the drooling twink out of your way for the night."
Satisfied, Nate nodded to himself and stepped back, slapping Chancellor twice on the shoulder before turning back around to face Alex. "Come on, Alex. Let's give Chancellor some time to himself."
Alex obeyed, glancing regretfully at Chance as he followed Nate out the door.
"Go out son, have a few drinks, you'll feel much better. And think about what I've said."
"Oh, I will," Chancellor said, his face grim. "I will."
\*\*\*\*
Chance leaned back hard against the wall and gulped for air while his entire body shook with rage and pain. His eyes stung, and he struggled to hold back the insistent tears welling behind his eyelids. How could anyone take so much all at once? His lover cheated on him, seduced by his own father!
Chance had always thought of his father as distant and unemotional, but now he saw him as a madman, perhaps even a monster without a hint of humanity. And worse, he expected Chance to agree with him, to live his own life that way. A life without love or affection, filled instead with wealth and power. A life of taking but never giving, of lying, cheating, stealing, hurting but never caring... Fucking, but never being fucked.
Well, fuck that!
Chance pushed off from the wall and stumbled across the room and into the bathroom, determined to clean up as best he could for a night on the town. "Go out son, have a few drinks," Chance muttered, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. "Oh, I'm sure I'll feel much better."
He tried not to laugh at himself as he grabbed one of Alex's bottles of hair gel. A plan was brewing in his mind, and he needed to look his best to pull it off. He was going out, as his father suggested, and he was going to get laid. He was tired of waiting, of holding himself back. Tonight he would ask the first decent looking man he met to fuck him. It would be a sort of 'fuck you,' both to Alex and his father.
That decided, Chance quickly undressed and climbed into the shower, readying himself for a big night.
Sitting alone at the bar, Chance took a small sip of his whiskey and grimaced at the burn as it slid down his throat, then set the glass down, leaned forward with his elbows on the bar, and closed his eyes. He fought the urge to bury his hands in his hair and pull, remembering just in time that he'd styled it before he came and he wouldn't be able to put it back in place. His hair now lay in stiff yet docile waves that stayed in place behind his ears instead of tangling in unruly curls around his face.
It looked good, he knew it did, but it also left him feeling vulnerable and exposed in a way he hadn't anticipated. Tilting his head forward didn't hide his face now, nor did it obscure the world around him. Looking around the crowded room, Chance noticed a lot of the men were staring at him. Surrounded by men covered in tattoos, piercings and leather, he attracted a lot of attention in his loose fitting dress-slacks and white button-down shirt.
At least he hadn't worn a tie.
Perhaps he should have been more specific when he asked the taxi driver to take him to a gay bar. The jerk had been laughing when Chance climbed out of the car, and he probably didn't stop laughing until he picked up his next fare.
Turning back to the bar and his drink, Chance contemplated the merits of going out and trying again, or giving up and going home with his tail between his legs. Trolling for a hook-up had seemed like such a good idea an hour ago, but now he just felt foolish and inadequate. He'd left the hotel filled with hurt and rage, determined to get fucked tonight. He'd wanted to lose his virginity and submit to another man, any man, desperately.
Now, sitting alone in a crowded bar surrounded by men, he felt more lost and alone than ever before. Right now he really wanted to be touched, to be held, to feel the weight of another man on top of him, crushing him. Moving above him, around him and inside of him, taking him... He wanted to feel alive---and maybe, if he closed his eyes while it happened, he could even pretend he felt loved.
Chance tightened his grip around the glass, steeling his resolve and preparing to down the rest of his liquid courage, but the whiskey never made it to his mouth. A heavy weight landed across his shoulders, slamming him into the bar. He gasped in pain as the drink splashed across the bar in front of him and the glass rolled off onto the floor.
The weight across his back receded, replaced by the overwhelming smells of beer and exhaust, while a rough voice rasped in his ear. "Well now, don't you look pretty?"
Startled, Chance jerked back to get away from the big man pressed against his side, only to fall off his stool and into the powerful grip of another large man. Both men had shaved heads and tattoos covering their exposed skin, the smaller of the two sporting a scraggly goatee and a studded collar around his neck.
"Hey, Ed, the boy's already falling for us." The second man laughed, pulling Chance back against his body.
Large, hairy arms wrapped around Chance's chest as he stared helplessly up into the eyes of the first drunk. The man in front of him stood only a few inches taller than Chance, but the one behind him had to lean down to whisper in his ear. "So, sweet thing, do you want to come take a ride with the big boys?"
Chance tried to pull away, but the man laughed and pulled him closer, pressing his erection into the small of Chance's back.
The man with the collar grinned and came closer, reaching out to rub Chance's cheek. "Aw, now don't be like that, sweet thing," he crooned, "we could have a lot of fun together, yeah? Could hang you over the seat of the bike and let the engine run so your whole body vibrates. Dave could ride you from behind..." He leaned closer, blowing his beer breath in Chance's face as he ran two fingers down his cheek to circle his lips. "... while you wrap these sweet lips around my dick and suck me dry." He punctuated the sentence by pressing his fingers against Chance's lips and into his mouth.
Gagging on the grimy digits, Chance managed to struggle free and stumbled back against his vacated bar stool. The bigger man, Dave, reacted first, his fists clenching. Chance squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that it would all be over soon.
But the blow he expected never fell; the tension was broken by a low, commanding voice. "Why don't you gentlemen go and find someone else to play with? If you keep groping my boy like that I'm going to lose my temper and take it out on your hides."
Chance's eyes flew open, his heart jumping into his throat at the sight of the third man before him. The new arrival towered over the bikers, dwarfing them, with impressive muscles bulging in his arms and shoulders---shoulders about even with the top of Chance's head.
The bikers quickly stepped back to give the new arrival room, but they didn't back away. The giant pushed his way between the two bikers and walked right up to Chance, who tried not to panic as the stranger's hands gripped his waist and hoisted him up onto the stool behind him. One large hand cupped the back of his head, the other slipping between his thighs to push his legs apart. Chance felt himself getting dizzy. Scrambling to keep his balance, Chance grabbed the man's shoulders, wrapping his fingers around the edges of the leather vest covering that impressive chest.
The brush of soft lips against his ear startled a gasp out of Chance, reminding him to breathe as his rescuer whispered, "Relax. I won't hurt you. Just play along, okay?"
The soft words were quickly followed by a hot, demanding mouth crashing down against Chance's parted lips, stealing his already ragged breath. The kiss ended quickly with Chance pulling back and gasping for air. He felt the gentle squeeze of a hand on his neck and looked up. A small smile turned up the corners of the stranger's mouth and soft laugh lines appeared around the edges of his kind eyes. A few random gray hairs were peppered into the close-cut black hair, and the contrast made him even more attractive. Chance no longer knew if his erratic breathing should be blamed on fear or arousal.
Wanting more, Chance leaned in again, angling for another kiss when the hairy biker's voice cut through the haze of unexpected lust.
"Listen, man, what do you say we both take our pets out back, huh? The four of us could have a great time together. We could make the boys scream."
Chance's entire body tensed at the suggestion, only relaxing when he noticed the muscle tick along the strong jaw of the man who held him. Those bikers weren't going to touch him again.
The big man didn't even turn around. He kept his eyes fixed on Chance's face as he answered them. "Sorry fellas, but I don't share. Now beat it."
Looking over his protector's shoulder, Chance saw the smaller man reach for the taller man's arm. "Come on, Dave, he ain't even worth it. You'd probably just snap him in two anyway, scrawny as his ass is."
"It's your loss, you stupid fuckers," Dave added over his shoulder as they retreated.
Chance slumped against his rescuer's chest. He felt safe wrapped in those strong arms, and the taste of the man's firm lips excited him in a way nothing ever had before. Perhaps he could still salvage his night and his pride. He snuggled into the stranger's embrace, trying to find the right words to offer himself to his hero. After all, the big, gorgeous man deserved a special thank you from his damsel in distress, didn't he?
\*\*\*\*
The drunken bikers moved off, leaving Mark alone with the victim of their cruel taunting. He felt the young man in his arms relax, settling against his chest like a lover. Mark struggled to hold back the hysterical laughter trying to work its way out of his system. Chasing away those two arrogant bullies had been a rush, the most fun he'd had in a long time, but the leftover adrenaline was still coursing through his body.
He'd been at the bar for well over an hour, working the room and talking to anyone who seemed interested, but he didn't linger long with anyone. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for, but he hadn't found it yet, and he was about to give up and head out when he'd noticed the young stranger enter the bar.
He'd made one last circuit around the bar, but this time his only conversation involved apologizing to the people he bumped into. His attention was drawn completely to the small, huddled form that settled at the end of the bar. Mark wanted him, badly, but he was hesitant to approach him or to make a move. The kid looked so sad, so lost and defeated, and so damned young.
When the bikers moved in on him, it felt natural to intervene. And now that he had the young man in his arms, he didn't want to let him go. He wanted to keep hold of this slender body, feel it pressed against him, skin to skin. He longed to kiss that mouth again, to devour him whole and possess him, body and soul.
The moment stretched between them and eventually became awkward. Reluctantly, Mark let go and stepped back, but he didn't get far. The young man stopped him, sliding his arms down from around Mark's neck to settle his hands on Mark's hips, wrapping his fingers around the belt and holding on.
Mark couldn't resist reaching out again to touch the smooth cheek in front of him, letting his hand run down the side of a long neck to the collar of a white dress shirt. Fingering the material he smiled, tugging gently at the fabric.
"I take it you aren't from around here, are you?" he asked, hoping to break the ice.
The kid laughed, a real laugh, with no force behind it and shook his head. "You would think that, wouldn't you? Actually, I grew up here. This is my home town." He shrugged and smiled in a self-deprecating way before absently running his hands around and up Mark's chest. "First time I've ever wandered in here, though." he added, resting his hands on Mark's shoulders. "Oh, and, uh... I... M-my name's Chance, by the way."
Mark grinned down at Chance, staring into his sky blue eyes and watching the most adorable blush spread over his face. Damn, he was perfect. "Chance, is it? Well, I'm Mark."
Chance smiled and tugged on Mark's hips, pulling him back against his body. "Well, Mark. You saved me tonight. So why don't you take me somewhere so I can thank you properly, hmm?" Chance punctuated the question by rocking forward on the stool, pressing his insistent erection against Mark's own painful hard-on.
Mark groaned and dropped his head onto Chance's shoulder. The words were suggestive enough, even without the added physical contact. Mark longed to lift the slight young man onto the bar and take him then and there.
Chance's teeth nipped sharply against his ear lobe and snapped Mark out of his dense haze. The offer was clear enough, and Mark wanted nothing more, but something about it didn't feel quite right. Underneath the brazen words and actions, Chance held his body tense, and Mark could feel his wiry body trembling.
The offer probably only stemmed from gratitude, the younger man's erection the result of adrenaline rather than desire. Mark didn't want to take advantage of anyone, and to do it to this poor kid, after having prevented someone else from doing just that, well, wouldn't that make him even worse?
"You don't owe me anything, Chance. You don't have to play along anymore." Mark raised his head and stepped back out of the tantalizing circle of male heat given off by Chance's body. He tried to smile reassuringly, but his smile froze when he met with the determined look in Chance's eyes.
"Damn it Mark! I swear to God I'm not playing here. This is probably the clumsiest come-on you've ever heard, but I'm serious. I want you, Mark. And you want me too, right? Please, just take me somewhere and fuck me."
Mark was stunned by the sweetness of it, coming from a total stranger in a bar, begging for nothing more than the brief intimacy of a one-night stand. How could he possibly walk away from that? And why should he?
He relaxed, deciding to take Chance at his word. They were both adults, and they both clearly wanted this. He offered what he hoped was a confident smile and took Chance's small hand, threading their fingers together. "I guess this is where I ask 'your place or mine,' right?"
Chance couldn't hold back a wild, watery laugh in reaction to Mark's reply. He'd expected rejection, had hated the desperation in his voice. He didn't fool himself or sugarcoat the situation. He hadn't come here looking for romance, but for a release without guilt or impossible expectations. This was a one-night stand. "I---uh... well. I'm staying with my parents while I'm in town, so..."
God, he sounded pathetic! His entire face heated up when Mark laughed, a quiet chuckle that shook his massive chest. Chance couldn't stand the thought of becoming a joke to anyone else tonight, especially Mark, and he ducked his head, avoiding his eyes.
Mark startled him out of his self-loathing by pulling him off the stool. Chance stumbled, leaning against Mark for support. As he'd suspected, the top of his head barely reached Mark's shoulder, but surprisingly the size difference made him feel safe, bolstering his confidence rather than frightening him.
"Baby, I don't really think I want to meet your folks tonight. I have a nice hotel room though, with room service and everything. That work for you?"
Chance took the opportunity to run his hand over the front of Mark's pants, cupping the man's sizable bulge. Mark groaned, rocking into the touch, and Chance nodded his head vigorously, grinding his own hard length into Mark's muscular thigh.
Words weren't even an option anymore. Driven by need, Chance let himself go completely, choosing to simply follow Mark's lead as he was pulled out of the bar. He didn't listen for details as Mark gave their cab driver instructions. His attention was completely riveted on the man's muscled ass as he leaned over to give the address before opening the back door.
Mark climbed in first, pulling Chance in after him. Once inside, Chance plastered himself against Mark's solid body, wrapping those powerful arms around his shoulders and snuggling in close. He wanted to maintain his arousal, afraid he might lose his nerve if the urgency wore off.
He needn't have worried, though. Not even the surprise of climbing out of the cab in front of his father's hotel dampened his desire for the big, sexy man. If anything, the possibility of being spotted or recognized only added to his excitement. Giving his ass up for the first time right here under his father's own roof only added to the irony. Even though he didn't recognize the clerk behind the desk when they crossed the lobby to the elevators, it felt good to flash him a smile and a wink before the doors slid shut.
Mark pressed him against the elevator wall, claiming his lips and kneading his ass hard with both hands. Mark's teeth sank into his bottom lip, biting and tugging on the tender flesh. Chance wrapped his arms around Mark's neck, vibrating with excitement. He knew they were putting on a show for the security guys, and that he might even be recognized. It was an unexpected thrill, the risk of getting caught.
Too soon the elevator came to stop on Mark's floor, the doors sliding open with a soft ding. Both men groaned and reluctantly tore out of the embrace. Mark tugged Chance out of the elevator and into the hallway, grinning back over his shoulder while he dragged Chance toward his room. "Come on, baby. Just a little farther and we can try it again without clothes in the way."
Chance hurried into the room after Mark, and before the door even closed behind them, Mark was pulling off his leather vest and tugging the tee shirt out of his jeans. Chance reached for the buttons on his own shirt, but stopped and stared, watching while Mark bared his chest and abdomen to Chance's hungry gaze.
"You too." Mark stalked over and Chance reached out, running his fingers through the soft hairs that covered that broad, ripped chest. He hardly noticed his own shirt being tugged up out of his dress slacks. Mark fumbled over the buttons briefly before he lost patience and yanked the shirt open, sending buttons flying across the room.
Chance shrugged out of the shirt, letting it fall to the floor before attacking Mark's mouth with his own. A moment later, he was pressed up against the door with his legs wrapped around Mark's waist and his face buried in the wiry hair on Mark's sweaty chest.
Mark's musky scent, combined with the feel of skin against skin made Chance tremble with need. The hot, hard pressure of Mark's erection against his own was enough to send Chance over the edge.
With a cry of surprise he convulsed in Mark's arms, coming hard and flooding his underwear with the unexpected release. The aftershocks wore off, and Chance struggled for breath, burrowing his face more firmly into Mark's chest and clinging to his broad shoulders. Soft lips and sharp teeth nibbled at the lobe of his ear while the quiet rumble of Mark's laughter vibrated under his cheek.
That was twice tonight he'd given Mark reasons to laugh at him. "I'm so sorry."
"Sorry for what, baby? Hell, that was hot!" The laughter was replaced by a more needy sound and Mark began rocking his own erection against Chance's groin. The lips and teeth backed off from his ear, replaced by a soft, wet tongue that danced to the same rhythm as Mark's cock, bumping against Chance's balls. "You make this old man feel young and sexy again."
"Yeah?" Chance finally looked up and saw a blissful expression on Mark's face. Anything else he might have said got cut off when Mark's mouth crashed over his, Mark's tongue invading his mouth. When Mark pulled back for breath, Chance used the space created to slide back onto his feet.
But he didn't stop there. He grabbed Mark's arms and reversed their positions, pushing Mark against the door and sinking down onto his knees. His fingers made quick work of the button and zipper hiding the impressive bulge of Mark's sex from his eyes. Within seconds he had Mark's erection in hand, the older man's jeans and underwear pulled down to mid-thigh.
Mark responded with a strangled gasp, pushing his massive organ through Chance's hold, shuddering when Chance tightened his grip and began to pump up and down the hard length. The tip of Mark's prick was dripping pre-come, and the sight and smell made Chance's mouth water. Unable to resist, he leaned forward, darting his tongue out to swipe quickly across the spongy end of Mark's cock. He pressed the tip of his tongue into the slit, looking for more of the intoxicating flavor.
"Oh, shit, baby! Good. So good..." Mark's fingers threaded into his hair and gently tugged him forward, wordlessly begging for more.
Chance obliged and parted his lips, inviting Mark into his mouth. Humming around the welcome intrusion, he let his tongue flutter along the prominent vein throbbing along Mark's length. With a quick breath he surged forward, taking Mark down the back of his throat and swallowing before backing off again to suckle gently at the tip.
Mark doubled over him, pressing his face into the back of Chance's neck and cursing softly. Chance ran the tip of his tongue along the indention below the head of Mark's cock and smiled around the mouthful. He and Alex hadn't progressed to fucking, but blowjobs? He was a genius. It was a heady feeling, getting so strong a response from someone new, someone as hot as Mark.
Chance gave Mark a few moments to recover, waiting until he straightened back up before sucking again. Turned on more than he could ever remember, Chance reached for the front of his own pants. He worked them open and shoved his hand into the sticky mess under the waistband of his boxers, fisting his own needy cock as he pleasured Mark with his mouth. He redoubled his efforts, wanting to give the incredible man his best blow ever, wanting Mark to enjoy it as much as he was.
He used every trick he knew, bobbing his head quickly along the hard length, sucking in a steady rhythm as his tongue danced in random patterns. His efforts paid off, and after a few moments Mark's hands gripped his hair tightly and held him while he thrust into his mouth. Chance stilled and hummed, allowing Mark to take what he wanted until the movements began to stutter and became jerky. At that point he pulled off and squeezed hard against the base of Mark's prick in an effort to hold off his orgasm. It was cruel, he knew, but he didn't want Mark to come yet, not like that. He had bigger plans.
Chance pressed against Mark's hip to still his desperate movements. Mark's hands tugged softly at Chance's hair and his body sagged back against the wall before he let out a long groan of frustration.
Chance had half expected him to protest, to force himself back into Chance's mouth and finish off the way he wanted to---the way Alex would have done. But no, Mark allowed Chance to take the lead, petting his hair soothingly while he gulped for air.
Chance pressed a kiss against Mark's thigh and released his prick, digging into his back pocket for a condom. Catching the edge of the foil packet between his teeth, he tore it open. Mark stared down at him through heavy lids and Chance met and held his gaze, quickly working the condom onto Mark's straining erection.
"I asked you to fuck me, remember?" Chance tugged at Mark's pants, pulling them down below his knees. "Off, please?"
Mark laughed and smoothed his hand along Chance's cheek before nodding and lifting one foot. "Yeah, okay. Off." He allowed Chance to pull off the heavy boots and socks before stepping out of his pants legs.
Chance sat back on his heels once the job was done and took in the glorious sight of Mark's nude body. A fine sheen of sweat glistened across his chest and belly, beading in his dark hairs and drawing attention to his undeniable masculinity. Chance leaned forward and swiped his tongue through the line running down from Mark's navel, following the treasure trail back down to his sheathed erection.
Now that they were headed for the fucking Chance had been longing for, he felt nervous. Nuzzling the impressive organ between Mark's thighs, Chance tried to calm himself, nipping at Mark's pubic hairs and tugging gently, looking for any available distraction.
Instead of putting things off, it seemed to fuel Mark's lust. In one quick move he hauled Chance onto his feet and pulled him flush against his body, taking his mouth in a fierce kiss, Mark's tongue pushing between his teeth while his hands slid into the back of his pants. Those hands squeezing his bare ass made Chance's head spin, and he nearly came again when Mark's strong fingers pushed between his cheeks and rubbed against his hole.
Chance groaned and pushed away from Mark, needing to put space between them before he really embarrassed himself. He had to keep it together or he would never make it to the main event. Mark stood watching him, panting for breath, his entire body flushed and his eyes eager. Well, of course---unlike Chance, he hadn't come yet.
Chance smiled shyly, trying to appear confident as he toed off his shoes and dug into his pocket again, fishing out a small bottle of lube. "Here, you know what to do with this, yeah?" He tossed the bottle over to Mark before pushing his pants and underwear down and off his legs. Naked, Chance turned away from Mark and crossed the room to the bed. He slowly crawled onto the center and positioning himself on all fours, hoping the move appeared seductive rather than scared.
He must have pulled it off, because Mark joined him quickly, one warm hand on Chance's ass and his mouth on the small of Chance's back. "Damn, Chance! So eager, that's so sexy!" Mark mumbled against his back before snapping the cap on the lube open. The sound seemed loud as a shot to Chance's ears and he tensed, then grimaced, hoping the older man wouldn't notice his reaction.
Mark squeezed one of his ass cheeks and rubbed a slick finger around his exposed hole. Chance dropped his head onto his arms and spread his legs wider, giving Mark better access. When Mark's finger pushed into him, fast and deep Chance hissed and bit the soft skin on his forearm to keep quiet. The stretch and the burn weren't bad, but unfamiliar, and knowing where this was leading made him nervous again. By the time Mark had worked a second finger into him, scissoring them and stretching him in earnest, Chance couldn't help tensing back up.
"Damn, baby, you're tight. Real damn tight---has it been a while?" Mark ran his free hand up and down Chance's spine and nibbled gently on the tender flesh of Chance's ass cheek. The concern in his voice sounded genuine, and he'd been nothing but kind. He deserved to know the truth.
Chance looked back over his shoulder and met Mark's eyes. Before he could change his mind, he swallowed back his panic and blurted it out. "It's been never, Mark. You're in uncharted territory back there... Where no man has gone before."
Chance watched Mark's eyes go from heavy with lust to wide with surprise. He sat back on his heels and carefully pulled his fingers from Chance's ass, staring at him openmouthed. Well, at least he hadn't bolted for the door...
"Damn, baby, you've never? Hell, why didn't you say something?! W-we don't have to..." Mark waved his hand between the two of them. Chance shook his head and rolled over until he was sitting in front of Mark. He reached out and cupped Mark's sturdy jaw, kissing him quiet before pressing his forehead against Mark's.
"I want this Mark. I want you. I'm not a pure, innocent virgin here. I've done other stuff before, and I know what I'm doing now. We all have to have a first, yeah?"
His eyes solemn, Mark nodded.
"I want mine to be you." Chance punctuated his point by kissing Mark and sliding onto his lap, rubbing their erections together. He knew better than to play fair if he hoped to get what he wanted.
Mark groaned into the kiss and pushed forward, laying Chance down and pressing him into the mattress. The weight of the larger body on top of his felt incredible, and the hard prick prodding his thigh sent a shiver up his spine. Chance moaned back into Mark's mouth, wrapping his arms around his muscular neck and parting his legs to cradle Mark between them. Digging his heels into the mattress, he pushed his hips up, pressing his groin into Mark's stomach.
Mark pulled out of the kiss and stared down into his eyes, searching. His hand slowly slid down Chance's body, past his hip and down his thigh, then around back up the tender skin of his inner thigh. The hand stopped between his legs, the fingers pressing at the patch of skin behind Chance's balls and ghosting over his slick hole.
Mark pressed his thumb inside Chance, rubbing slow circles around the muscle and watching Chance's face intently. "If I hurt you, or if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you say so, alright? And if you change your mind at any point, stop me. Are we clear?"
Chance nodded and caressed Mark's neck and face, grinning up at him and bucking against the questing thumb, forcing the digit deeper. It slipped through the ring of muscle and Chance hissed, arching his back and thrashing his head against the pillow, his mouth open with the pleasure.
"Want you Mark. I want you." Chance shifted on the mattress, trying to roll back over onto his stomach, but Mark stopped him. Mark held him down with his hands on both hips, shaking his head 'no.'
Chance whimpered in distress. Was Mark having second thoughts? He couldn't face rejection now, not this close! "Please, Mark." He was far too aroused and needy to care about pride or dignity. He needed, and he would do whatever it took to get what he needed. "Please take me, Mark. Please fuck me."
The rest of his plea got cut off as Mark collapsed back on top of him, stealing his breath with a frantic kiss. "Okay, baby, I've got you. But I want to do it like this, okay? Face to face. I need to see you, and it won't be so scary for you if you can see what's happening. Okay, baby?"
Chance nodded frantically, too choked up to reply. He forced his eyes shut, clutching Mark's shoulders and squeezing with his thighs, holding on. Mark kissed him, peppering his face and hair with kisses, massaging his chest and sides.
"Okay, baby, you got me. I'm not going anywhere." Under his soothing attention Chance relaxed his grip, letting his legs falling open. He carded his fingers through Mark's hair, pulling him close for a proper kiss.
Mark opened for him, letting their tongues tangle together, letting the tension ease from both their bodies. When they came up for air Chance opened his eyes again, finding Mark's eyes dreamy and filled with passion again instead of worry.
Mark settled his weight onto one elbow, his hand warm against Chance's ribs while the other skated a sensuous path across Chance's chest, down his stomach and between his legs, pausing briefly to squeeze and roll his balls before slipping between his butt cheeks.
"Yes!" Chance hissed, pulling one leg back and grabbing his thigh, opening himself for Mark's exploration. Mark smiled and echoed him with his own breathy "yes" before pressing two fingers inside him again.
Mark leaned down, taking one of Chance's nipples into his mouth. He sucked in a slow, steady rhythm, matching the pace of his fingers. Chance could only gasp in response, tangling his fingers in Mark's hair and holding on. Every tug on his nipple made his cock jump, and the burn in his ass had morphed from pain into pleasure.
Looking for more, Chance tilted his hips, rocking onto Mark's fingers. Out of nowhere, a sudden wave of intense pleasure washed over him. "Oh, shit! Oh my God, Mark! Oh God, Oh God... Mark. Shit, Mark!" Chance writhed on the bed as Mark continued to push against that same spot inside of him. The urgency of it had Chance leaking pre-come onto his belly, the sticky liquid pooling in the crease between his leg and groin.
"Oh, yeah, there it is." Mark lifted his head from Chance's chest and grinned, watching his face. Chance's balls drew up close to his body, and he felt another climax building just from Mark stretching him.
Before Chance could lose it completely, Mark pulled his fingers away, massaging the trembling muscles on Chance's thigh. "Mark!" Chance sobbed, unable to hold back with his entire body shaking with need. Now it was his turn to whimper with the frustration of a denied climax, his arousal painful and his need more acute than he could ever remember.
Mark reached across the bed, grabbing an extra pillow. "Lift up your hips for me."
Chance complied, feeling ridiculous and trying not to laugh at the position he found himself in. The mirth disappeared, replaced by wanton lust when Mark pressed pushed three slick fingers into him, twisting them slowly and pumping in and out a few more times.
Pulling his fingers free again, Mark drizzled lube into his open palm and quickly coated his covered cock. "Remember, you tell me if you want me to stop, all right? For any reason. You just say the word, and I'll stop."
Mark waited for Chance to nod before reaching between their bodies and positioning himself at Chance's opening. He settled his weight onto both arms, bracing them on either side of Chance's body. Chance grabbed those strong arms, tensing as he felt Mark's sex pressing against him.
"Relax, baby," Mark urged, bending forward to brush his mouth against Chance's in a reassuring kiss. "Push out and breathe," he whispered. "Breathe."
Chance pushed out, and he felt the head of Mark's cock slip past the ring of muscle and into him. Digging his fingers into Mark's arms, he struggled to relax, his ass tightening and releasing around Mark spasmodically. The intrusion felt strange, unfamiliar, and slightly painful. Chance closed his eyes, trying to calm down and enjoy the new experience.
Mark didn't move, didn't try to push for more or pull out. He just waited, giving Chance the opportunity to adjust and decide what he wanted. As his body adjusted, Chance settled down. He took a few more deep breaths and swallowed a few times before opening his eyes. He grinned at Mark and raised his head enough so he could see where he and Mark were joined. "Wow."
Mark laughed, his whole body shaking, and it felt amazing. Chance dropped his head back onto the pillow, gasping.
"You ready for more?" Mark asked.
Chance tried to answer, but mouth and vocal cords weren't cooperating. Luckily, Mark seemed to understand, and he slowly rocked his hips, pulling out slightly and then pushing back in, going a little deeper each time. The stretching and the burn quickly went from uncomfortable to intensely pleasurable. When Mark finally bottomed out, Chance was quaking with excitement.
But Mark stopped and didn't move.
Chance groaned, circling his hips in frustration. "God, Mark! More! Please, move!"
"Hell, yes." Mark hissed, rocking his hips back, almost pulling out of Chance's body before pausing, and then snapping his hips forward and entering him again in one quick, smooth movement.
Chance gasped and threw his head back, his eyes rolling and his throat working as he struggled not to come.
"Oh, God, Chance..." Mark pressed his face into the curve of Chance's neck, kissing and sucking and making Chance's head spin. After a few thrusts, Chance regained his control enough to recognize the rhythm Mark had set. He tried to match it, tried to give back by rocking his own hips up to meet Mark's thrusts.
The heat of Mark's breath left Chance's neck and the thrusts became more forceful. Mark was hitting Chance's prostate with every stroke, and the assault was incredible, far more intense than Chance would have ever imagined. The fiery tingle of an impending orgasm pooling at the base of his spine caught Chance by surprise. He cried out Mark's name, forcing his eyes open and staring up at Mark, their eyes meeting, both wide with shock. Chance clung to Mark, his seed spraying between their bodies without either of them even touching his erection.
Mark froze above him, his eyes darting between Chance's face and groin, surprise clearly written on his face. Soon after, however, the surprise was replaced with the dark flush of need. Mark reared back onto his knees, roughly pulling Chance's ass up onto his thighs.
In the aftermath of his orgasm Chance went boneless, sinking back into the mattress, fully relaxed. He felt Mark's hands slide around his hips, grasping his ass, and the feral look in Mark's eyes made Chance's pulse pick up again. Mark tilted him up, holding his hips a few feet off the mattress with his thumbs across Chance's hip bones and his fingers digging into his ass cheeks, spreading them wide.
Then, Mark began pounding into him with brutal force. Chance slid up the mattress, nearly reaching the headboard before Mark tightened his grip and yanked him back onto his cock. In an effort to help, Chance threw his hands up over his head, bracing against the headboard and wrapping his legs tight around Mark's waist, urging him on.
A few more frantic thrusts and Mark froze, his body going tight and his face relaxing into total ecstasy. Chance choked back tears when he felt Mark come inside him. It was the most extraordinary thing he had ever felt. His body ached in the most delicious way from Mark's rough handling, but it didn't hurt enough to distract him from the look of pure pleasure on Mark's face. Chance had never seen anything so beautiful.
The tension left Mark's body and Chance relaxed, closing his eyes and allowing his legs to fall away from Mark's waist. Mark slowly lowered Chance's hips back onto the mattress, pushing the pillow out of the way and following him down. Sprawling on top of Chance, kissing his chest, then his neck, Mark worked his way up to Chance's face.
Chance sighed, enjoying the weight on top of him and the rhythm of Mark's heartbeat drumming against his chest. Smiling, he wrapped an arm around Mark's shoulders, his fingers sliding along the sweat-drenched muscles. Chance had never experienced such a perfect moment, and the sudden tension in Mark's body when his lips finally slid against Chance's cheek startled him into opening his eyes.
Mark brushed Chance's cheek with trembling fingers and grimaced. "Damn, Chance." He rolled off and settled on the mattress beside him, running his hands over Chance's body. Chance blinked in confusion and a tear fell onto his already damp cheeks. Embarrassed, Chance threw his arm over his face. He was crying? Shit!
"Damn it, baby, you're gonna be black and blue. Fuck!" Mark kissed Chance's bruised hip and then rubbed the arm that hid Chance's face. "I'm sorry, Chance. Did I hurt you bad?"
"Hurt me? God, no, Mark! That was amazing!" Chance blushed, but met Mark's gaze honestly. "I, uh... imagine I'll be sore tomorrow, but it'll be worth it. I loved every minute of it."
Mark smiled, sliding his hand restlessly over Chance's hip and thigh. "I left bruises. I'm sorry."
"I'm not." Chance laughed, slapping Mark's hands away from the darkening splotches. "I'd have been pissed off if you'd stopped."
Mark visibly relaxed, settling onto the mattress beside him. Chance smiled and rolled onto his side toward Mark, reaching for his new lover... just as Mark rolled away from him and climbed out of the bed.
"Thank God you're okay. I can't believe I lost control like that." Mark strode across the room and Chance sighed, taking a moment to enjoy the view and watching Mark's naked backside as he went into the bathroom. He sat up, scooting gingerly over to the edge of the bed and hanging his legs over the side. Apparently the night was over, and he needed to get dressed and get out of there before he embarrassed himself.
He heard the water cut off in the bathroom and Mark came back into the bedroom carrying a damp wash cloth. He stopped in front of Chance and looked down at him with one eyebrow raised. "You aren't running out on me already, are you?"
Chance smiled and offered a one shouldered shrug. He honestly didn't know what the protocol was for this sort of thing. The idea of one-night stands had never appealed to him before. Chance was a romantic, always looking for Mr Right, and tonight's encounter with Mark confused him. "You want me to stay?"
The warm, wet cloth slid over Chance's chest and down his stomach, and Mark pushed him back over onto the bed. The rag continued down along Chance's body, wiping his prick clean and slipping between his thighs and butt cheeks. "I do. If you want to. Your parents aren't waiting up for you, are they?"
Chance chuckled and shook his head. He didn't have a problem with that. He wanted to be with Mark. Tonight, tomorrow... and maybe longer, if Mark was interested. "No, they aren't. Not tonight. I'm all yours."
"Thank God for that." Mark tossed the cloth over his shoulder and captured Chance's lips, kissing him deeply as he climbed onto the bed.
Chance pulled the covers back and together they slipped between the sheets, snuggling close. Mark wrapped his arms around Chance, pulling him against his body and tangling their legs together. With a happy sign, Chance stretched his arm across Mark's chest, kissing his shoulder before using it as his pillow. He dozed off with Mark's lips against his ear, his soft breathing lulling him into a peaceful sleep.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Mark squeezed his eyes closed even tighter and tried to hold on to the dream, fighting against the pull of waking up to the sad and lonely reality of his life. He hummed softly at the sweet smell and soft feel of curls under his cheek as he nuzzled closer to his fantasy lover. The long-forgotten sensation of a warm body in his arms was too good to let go, and so he tightened his hold around the slim waist and slid his leg between the other man's thighs. Snuggling closer, Mark's hazy mind finally registered the very real feeling of a hard cock pressed against his lower belly.
His eyes flew open, revealing another man in his bed, in his arms, and the glorious sight took Mark's breath away. It hadn't been a dream. Memories of the night before came rushing back, and his morning erection throbbed so insistently it bordered on painful. He really had picked up a hot young guy at a bar last night, and the beautiful man had stayed the night.
Grinning, Mark slid away from the warm body enough to slide down the bed and under the covers, heading south to start the new day the way he'd ended the previous one. Last night had been filled with stolen moments. Taking Chance's virginity had been so tender and raw that it felt as though they were truly making love. It had been so intense that he'd lost control of himself when Chance came. He hadn't felt so alive in a long time, and after waking up with another man in his bed for the first time in well over a year, he wasn't about to lose any opportunity to steal a few more moments.
Reaching his destination, Mark breathed in the musky scent of Chance's arousal before opening wide and swallowing him all the way down, pressing his nose into the wiry pubic hairs. He chuckled around the mouthful a moment later when Chance's hands fisted in his hair, his hips thrusting against Mark's face while he sucked Chance back to wakefulness. The fingers in his hair loosened and he backed off with a loud pop, grinning up at his young lover's flushed face.
Chance gazed back with sleepy eyes and continued to run his fingers along Mark's scalp. A slight pressure returned to the base of his neck and those slender hips rose off the bed again, Chance's swollen sex bumping against his cheek. "Fuck, Mark! Don't stop. Please don't stop now."
"No, not stopping." Mark slowly pulled the tip back into his mouth, tonguing the slit and suckling gently on the flared head. Working the shaft slowly with one hand, he slipped his other hand between Chance's legs. Rolling the younger man's balls between his fingers he tugged gently before pressing his thumb firmly against the tender skin behind them. As he did so Chance let out a startled gasp, his body going rigid for a moment before he began thrusting wildly into Mark's mouth.
Giving Chance's balls another sharp tug, Mark took his mouth away, postponing the orgasm and earning a sharp cry of protest. Mark chuckled. Payback really was a bitch. "I'm not ready for you to come yet, baby." He reached across the bed, grabbing a condom and the lube. He pretended not to notice the wince that crossed Chance's face when he saw the lube, or the way his ass shifted restlessly against the mattress. He hadn't forgotten that last night was Chance's first time, or how rough he'd been.
He remembered being sore the morning after his first time too. Nate had taken him hard and fast without any stretching or preparation, just lube and a smile. Neither of them had known any better. Although he had taken the time to prepare Chance, the sex had been hot and powerful. It made sense that Chance would be uneasy.
But despite all that, Chance didn't protest. He surprised Mark by slowly parting his legs, bending them at the knees and exposing his hole. The muscle was swollen, red and angry, and Mark felt a sharp tug at his heart. Chance smiled at him shyly, offering himself again despite the pain he had to be feeling. God, an offer like that, so generous and loving, would break any man's heart.
Grinning, Mark snapped open the bottle of lube, drizzling the cool liquid onto his fingers. He leaned down to give Chance a slow, sensual kiss, putting all the unexpected emotions he felt into it before rolling off of Chance and onto his own stomach.
"Suit up, gorgeous. I'll get myself ready." Mark tossed the condom onto Chance's bare stomach before reaching back and plunging two fingers into his own ass, slicking and stretching himself for Chance's cock.
Chance drew a sharp breath and scrambled out from under the covers. He crowded behind Mark, his soft hand lightly caressing the curve of his ass. Mark could feel his fingers trembling as they slowly inched closer to the where his own fingers were working.
"I, uh... Mark? I've never done this before. I'm not... I don't know..." Chance's voice was hesitant, but the pressure on his ass increased, and Chance's fingers bumped against his own, circling Mark's perineum.
Mark moaned and pushed his ass into Chance's touch. Chance was nervous, but there was desire and excitement in his voice and in the tentative touch. It didn't surprise Mark that Chance had never topped before. He'd suspected as much, and even hoped for it---he wanted to be the one who gave Chance that experience.
He'd seen the resignation on Chance's face last night, before Mark asked him to stay. They'd agreed to have sex, nothing more, and when it was over Chance probably felt as if he'd been used and was being excused. That was how one-night stands worked, but Mark didn't want things to end like that with Chance. He remembered those feelings from his time with Nate, and Mark wanted to be sure this kid knew that sex and love didn't have to be like that. It shouldn't be like that.
He twisted around and looked back over his shoulder at Chance, grinning when he met wide, excited, lust-filled eyes. Mark slipped his fingers out and tilted his ass toward Chance.
"You've got nothing to worry about. Fucking is all instinct. You want to, right?"
"I don't want to hurt you." Chance's protest was weak, his hand and eyes never leaving Mark's ass.
Mark chuckled and pulled his knees up under his stomach, wiggling his ass. "Baby, you aren't going to hurt me. I have bottomed before, and I know what to expect. Your ass is going to hurt more tonight than mine is, no matter what you do to me."
Chance nodded absently while his fingers pushed between Mark's cheeks, pressing experimentally against Mark's hole. Mark groaned and pushed back. "Want you in me."
The hand pulled away and Mark heard the crinkle of a condom packet. Grinning, he spread his legs wider and lowered himself onto his elbows, leaving his ass sticking up in the air, open and waiting for Chance.
Soon Mark felt his lover's warmth move in close behind him and he felt a gentle but insistent pressure against his hole. Mark pushed out and rocked back, allowing the crown of Chance's cock to enter him.
Chance yelled something unintelligible, grabbing Mark's hips with a tight grip, and slamming himself fully into Mark's waiting body. The onslaught began immediately, with Chance pumping himself fast and hard in and out of Mark's body without a moment's pause. Mark bit his lip and braced himself more firmly against the mattress, careful not to cry out.
Chance's inexperience showed; he didn't give Mark an opportunity to adjust, and at first it was a little painful. The pain didn't last long though, and a few thrusts later Mark was pushing back into Chance's frantic rhythm. God, how he'd missed this!
Mark tensed, clamping and releasing his ass muscles around Chance's cock as hard and fast as he could, milking the younger man's dick with his ass. Mark had always preferred to bottom, and the tricks he'd used to drive his partner wild were quickly coming back to him.
"Oh, shit! Mark! Mark..." Chance began chanting and pumping faster.
Then Mark felt a sudden weight on his back and Chance's mouth pressing kisses along his spine. An arm wrapped around his chest, clinging to his shoulder while the other hand slid between Mark's legs and grasped his cock.
It surprised Mark that Chance had the presence of mind to reach around and help him. The care made his heart falter and his dick even harder. Or maybe that was due to how Chance was now bumping Mark's prostate with every thrust.
"Oh God, Chance!" Mark moaned, pumping frantically between the tight grip around his dick and the hard cock up his ass. He turned to kiss and lick at the fingers of Chance's other hand, and the grip on his shoulder tightened. The wet kisses at the base of his neck became a sharp bite and Mark cried out, cum flooding out of him in dizzying waves.
Chance stilled behind him, groaning loudly into Mark's ear while his cock swelled in Mark's ass, filling the condom with his release. Chance fell against Mark's back, trembling and panting, and Mark dropped down onto the mattress, carrying Chance with him. They stayed like that, with Chance piled on top of Mark in a sweaty heap, his dick still buried deep in Mark's ass, until their breathing evened.
Mark began to chuckle. Swinging his arm behind himself, Mark grasped the back of Chance's thigh and squeezed. "You all right back there?"
He felt Chance shake his head before he rolled off to the side. Mark winced from the sharp pain following the hasty exit. Nate had always finished that way, pulling out quickly and rolling away. Mark never did get used to that. But the thought was banished abruptly by a cool hand sliding down his back, over the curve of his ass and back up to his neck.
No, this sweet, inexperienced young man was nothing like his former selfish and inconsiderate lover. "Damn, Chance. You've ruined me. I swear I can't move. You wore this old man out."
Chance dropped his gaze and his face immediately flushed red in an adorable blush. "I didn't last long." He removed the condom and tossed it into the trashcan beside the bed.
Mark shrugged. "Neither did I."
Chance rolled back into his arms and smiled down at him, running a hand over his chest and carding his fingers through his chest hair. "And you are not old at all, Mister." Chance kissed him, snaking his hand down Mark's chest and over his belly, down to his groin where Mark's prick stood at half-mast. "An old man couldn't get it up again so fast." Chance's fingers curled around Mark's shaft and Mark groaned, grabbing Chance by the ass and pulling his lean body on top of him, aligning their cocks and pressing their erections together.
"I haven't been this inspired in over a year, baby. All this excitement will probably give me a heart attack."
Mark gasped and bucked against Chance while the younger man's tongue slid across his nipple and up to his throat. Chance nipped gently at Mark's chin and continued to torture Mark's sensitive nipple with his fingers as they rocked together slowly.
"Nonsense. You're what? Thirty-five maybe? You look younger than my father, at least, and I refuse to consider that old."
Mark laughed and smacked Chance on the ass, startling a surprised yelp out him. "Thank you for pointing out the fact that I'm old enough to be your father!"
Chance grinned at him, his blue eyes shining with mischief as he spread his legs and straddled Mark's hip, giving him leverage to grind their erections together more forcefully. "So what's the problem, big guy?" He slid his hands between their bodies and wrapped both their cocks together in his palms. "If I remember correctly, you picked me up in a leather bar. You even called me your 'boy,' didn't you? You don't want to be my 'leather daddy'?"
Chance ended on a gasp, his head thrown back and his mouth open. Mark worked his fingers into the cleft of Chance's ass and brushed his thumb softly over Chance's hole. Chance began writhing on top of him, his hands squeezing them together forcefully while he thrust in a frantic rhythm. A few moments later the movement stopped, Chance moaning out Mark's name while his entire body went taut as a bowstring. The muscles in his face went slack and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, but the corded muscles in his neck and chest strained against their limits.
Watching Chance's face and feeling his warm release against his own cock and belly sent Mark over the edge with him, both of them coming hard and finishing in a hot, sweaty heap. Mark ran his fingers through the tangled mess of Chance's hair, now sticky from a combination of sweat and the gel he'd used to tame it the night before.
Chance stirred on top of him, sliding carefully off Mark's body and snuggling against his side, his fingers still toying with the hair on Mark's chest. The young man seemingly fascinated by the wiry hairs. Mark smiled and reached over to caress Chance's smooth chest, his fingers slowly circling around one pebbled nipple. "You aren't a boy, Chance. Far from it. Being a man is about standing up for yourself and making your own choices. You don't need a 'daddy' or anyone else to make them for you."
Chance snorted and rolled over onto his back. "I know. I was only kidding before. The last thing I need in my life is another 'daddy.' The one I've got is more than enough." He squirmed restlessly on the bed, his eyes darting around the room, never stopping long on any one place. Finally he settled and looked back over at Mark. "I... I had a really good time with you, Mark. Thank you."
The earnest intensity in his gorgeous blue eyes made Mark look away, embarrassed. He felt a strong connection with Chance, and he dreaded the moment they would become strangers again. It was inevitable, though. Hoping for more wasn't realistic. They had two decades and God knew how many miles between them. Mark sighed and shook his head, resigned. "Me too. Thank you."
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to return to reality. "Why don't you go get cleaned up. I'll call room service and get us something to eat. I imagine we've both got long days ahead of us."
Mark climbed out of bed and turned back to Chance, holding his hand out to the other man. Chance took his hand and allowed himself be pulled out of the bed. Mark watched him until the tantalizing sight disappeared behind the bathroom door. Damn. How had he gotten so lucky?
Chance ambled down the hall toward the elevator, his lips still tingling from the force of Mark's goodbye kiss. It had been the most intense kiss of his life, had felt almost desperate. Chance hit the call button for the elevator and pressed his fingers to his bruised lips, reliving those last few moments in Mark's arms.
Mark had held him so tightly he could barely breathe, but Chance still hadn't felt close enough. They'd clung to each other for so long that Chance's lungs began to burn and he saw spots before his eyes. Kissing Mark was more important than oxygen, more important than anything else, and Chance never wanted to stop. Eventually, though, they had both broken away, unsteady on their feet and gasping for breath.
The elevator arrived and the doors slid open with a soft ding. Chance climbed in and hit the button for his floor. He leaned back against the wall and studied himself in the mirror that covered the wall opposite him. He looked completely debauched, and he grinned at the picture he made. His hair was disheveled, his shirt was missing buttons, and it hung open over his torso, exposing countless colorful love bites.
The elevator stopped at his floor and Chance sighed and climbed out, rubbing at the ache in his chest left by the perfect memories. He'd gone out last night looking for a revenge lay, but instead he'd found the man of his dreams and they'd spent the night making love. Leaving Mark's room and knowing they would never meet again hurt him far worse than witnessing Alex's betrayal last night, and that scared him. How could one brief encounter with a total stranger come to mean so much?
If he was honest with himself, he hadn't really been surprised to learn that Alex was cheating on him. Alex had a reputation for moving through relationships quickly, and theirs had already exceeded his average, but Chance had hoped that things would be different with him. After all, Alex had agreed to talk about making what they had exclusive once Chance had come out to his family.
But the closer Chance got to keeping his end of the bargain, the more restless Alex got, ratcheting up his prima donna act and finding fault with Chance at every turn. And when Alex had refused to have sex with him again after he'd come out to his parents... well, he'd expected a break-up. But he hadn't expected to find his boyfriend on the floor in his own suite, sucking off his own father! That was what really hurt.
Chance reached the door to his suite and shoved his hand into his pants pocket, fishing out his wallet and pulling out the key card. He ran the plastic through the reader and the light turned green, but his hand paused on the door knob. He wasn't sure what he would find. Had Alex left, or would he still be in there? Chance didn't want to face Alex yet. He didn't love the man, and he realized now that he never had, but they'd been in a relationship and Alex had betrayed his trust and that still hurt, badly.
Chance laughed self-deprecatingly and reached out to swipe the card again. It had always been his nature to go with the flow and to stay out of fights, but in this case doing so would be ridiculous. He wasn't in the wrong here, and allowing Alex to chase him away from his own suite would be childish. Chance was a man now, and what Mark had told him earlier was right. He needed to stand up for himself and start proving it, or else he was choosing to allow everyone to walk all over him.
The light flashed green again and Chance pushed through the door, banging it against the wall before slamming it shut behind him. He was prepared to find Alex blubbering, apologizing and begging for his understanding... or maybe to find him still sleeping peacefully, unconcerned by Chance's absence. Most likely, he'd expected to find the room void of all evidence that Alex had ever been there.
The room was dark, and Chance reached out to flip on the light switch. He heard movement coming from the bedroom and figured his second guess had been correct. Alex was still here, and still in bed. Chance returned his key card to his wallet and shoved it back into his pockets, steeling himself for an uncomfortable conversation with Alex. The door to the bedroom opened, but the body that hurled itself at him wasn't his ex.
"Oh, my god, Chance! Where the hell have you been? Are you all right? I've been worried sick!" Beverly wrapped her long arms around Chance's neck and held on tight. Chance wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged back. She was trembling in his arms.
"I'm fine, Bev, geez! What the hell are you doing here, anyway? And how did you get in?" He waited for Beverly to stop shaking before pulling her arms from around his neck. She stepped back, wiping her eyes with the sides of her hands.
"Alex checked out right before my shift ended last night, and I didn't deactivate his key. He seemed pretty upset when he left. Your father was with him, to make sure he got off alright, and he kept touching him, and... well, I figured you probably needed a friend. You didn't answer when I knocked, so I let myself in. I've been here all night!"
Chance couldn't help but grin. It felt really good, knowing he had a friend watching his back. "Relax, Beverly. Alex, he... we weren't right for each other, okay? We both knew it, and I didn't want to be here standing over him while he packed, so I went out. But I'm fine, okay? Really." Chance grinned and threw his head back, holding his arms out to his sides like he'd just won a race before turning in a circle, showing Beverly that he was still intact.
"Holy Crap, Chance! Where the hell did you go? You look like you've been mauled by... a, uh... damn."
Her cold fingers landed on his chest under his open shirt and Chance snapped his head back up, his eyes opening wide with horror. His entire body flushed red with embarrassment as he remembered the various marks that had been left on him from the night before. Beverly was like a sister to him, and the idea of sharing the details of his sex life with her was appalling.
"I just went out, okay?" Chance pulled his shirt closed and moved away from her, walking into the sitting room and sinking down onto the couch. Beverly followed him, and plopped down onto the cushion next to him, reaching for his shirt and tugging it back open.
"You didn't just anything, buddy. Your boyfriend took off and then you show up covered in hickies. You got laid! Please tell me you at least had sense enough to use protection?"
"Damn it, Bev, knock it off!" Chance pushed her hand away and pulled his legs up onto the couch, folding them in front of his chest and wrapping his arms around them, protecting his torso, and his heart, from her critical gaze. "I'm not stupid."
Beverly smiled and slumped back against the arm of the couch, eyeing him thoughtfully. "No, you aren't stupid. But you were upset last night, right? Admit it. And sometimes when people are upset they make mistakes. It's okay. You can tell me about it."
Chance closed his eyes and dropped his chin onto one knee, trying to decide what to tell his friend. Mark's handsome, smiling face immediately came to mind, and Chance felt at peace. He didn't regret their night together, not at all, and he wasn't ashamed to own up to where he'd been or what he'd done. What they'd shared felt real, it felt right, and Chance wasn't about to cheapen it with lies or evasions.
"Last night wasn't a mistake, Bev. In fact, I think, maybe it was the best decision I've ever made in my entire life." Chance smiled, remembering the sound of Mark's voice and the smell of his skin. He licked his lips, convinced he could still taste Mark's kisses.
Beverly pulled him out of his reverie by running her fingers through his hair, caressing his scalp. "What happened? I don't understand."
Chance shrugged his shoulders and forced a single laugh. "Alex cheated on me. I caught him at it, and I went out determined to one-up him, you know? It was stupid and I know it could have ended very badly... it almost did, too. But..."
Chance took a deep breath and held it, considering how lucky he was that Mark had shown up when he did. A few more minutes and those bikers would have broken his spirit. It wasn't likely they could have actually forced him outside, but their bullying had him scared enough he would have fled back home once he'd gotten away. It would have been months before he felt confident enough to try again.
"But what?" Beverly continued to stroke his hair, soothing him.
"But I'm glad I did it. Last night wasn't what I expected at all. It was incredible! Mark, he wasn't a sleazy hook-up, Bev. He was perfect! He was funny and sweet and gentle and kind and considerate... and he took good care of me. It wasn't just sex, you know? It was... special."
Beverly's hand stilled in his hair, and then her fingers curled around the strands, tugging gently and forcing him to look at her. Her smile was strained, almost sad and there were tears standing in her eyes. Chance offered a weak smile of his own and raised his eyebrows.
"What?"
"Listening to you just now... it sounds like you're in love." Chance's smile broadened and he slowly nodded his head. The notion was crazy, but he had to admit, it was also true. He had fallen in love with Mark. After what they'd shared, how could he not?
"Chance, listen to me! You're going through a rough break-up, yeah? You're vulnerable. I'm glad you had a good time last night, but don't get carried away, okay? Promise me you'll slow down now, don't go and get in over your head!"
Chance shook his head more forcefully, dislodging Beverly's hand, which slid out of his hair and settled on knee. Chance covered her hand with his own and met her worried gaze with a shrug and a wistful smile.
"I was careful. I don't know what he does or where he lives, we didn't even exchange last names. We had a really good time and we got along great, but... well, he's on vacation and was just having a little fun. Neither of us was looking for more."
Beverly snatched her hand out from under his and suddenly smacked him on the back of his head. Her expression changed from concerned to furious and she crossed her arms over her chest, glaring down at him with disgust.
"You fell in love last night and didn't even think to exchange phone numbers, e-mail addresses, nothing! What the hell is wrong with you?"
Chance sat back and rubbed his head, staring up at her in confusion. "What are you on about? You just finished telling me not to get carried away, to take it slow!"
Beverly shook her head, her freckles disappearing into the red flush that always covered her face when she got angry. "Take it slow, yeah, but don't blow it completely! Only an idiot would walk away from an experience like you just described with nothing! You don't throw away a chance at love! Believe me, they don't come around often!"
"He's a stranger, Bev. Twice my age, on vacation from who knows where with who knows what waiting for him at home! It was stupid and cowardly, I know, but I didn't want to ruin last night with a bunch of maybes. What if he's married or something? What if he didn't feel a connection like I did? And what about distance? What are the chances he would want to have a long distance relationship with an unemployed college student with no future plans?"
Beverly's eyes had gone wide and the anger was beginning to drain from her face. She reached out and cupped his cheek, letting the tips of her fingers caress his temple.
"So, he was twice your age, huh? I'll bet he had a lot of... experience. Was he hot?"
Chance laughed. He couldn't help himself. The playful smirk on Beverly's face was infectious. "Hell yes, he was hot! And I sure enjoyed what I experienced. But I'm going to leave it at that, nosy. Enough about me and last night."
Beverly's smirk widened and Chance wondered what he'd said wrong.
"Okay, fine. In that case, get dressed and meet me in the lobby in an hour. I have to go shopping and I need your help." Beverly stood up and headed for the door, leaving Chance even more confused, and worried.
"Shopping? What for?"
Beverly opened the door and stepped out, leaving only her head and shoulder inside Chance's suite. "A dress, of course. Last night your father graciously invited me to attend the ceremony tomorrow night as your date."
Chance squeezed his eyes shut. "My date?"
"Well, yeah. Not the best offer I've ever gotten, but, it gets me out of work, right? And I don't want my dress to clash with your tux or anything, so get moving. The lobby, one hour!" The door slammed shut behind her and Chance sat there, staring at it for several minutes before climbing to his feet and heading into the bedroom.
He shrugged his ruined shirt off his shoulders and laid it out on the bed. It could be fixed easily enough, of course, but why bother? He had plenty of others, and this one? Well, this one could easily fuel his fantasies for months to come. He smoothed his hand over the shirt, fondly remembering the way Mark had torn it off last night. He had never felt so wanted before in his life.
Chance turned away from the bed and headed for his dresser. He rummaged through the drawers and decided to go for casual. Surely jeans and a tee shirt were appropriate attire for shopping? He pulled them out and then opened his sock drawer, selecting a clean pair of briefs and a pair of socks. As he was closing the drawer, he glanced down at the top of his dresser and noticed a folded sheet of hotel stationary with his name scrawled across it.
Chance took the paper over to the bed and sat down, sighing with frustration. It was written in Alex's flowery handwriting, and for a moment Chance considered throwing it away unopened. Why did it matter what he had to say now?
In the end, though, his curiosity won out, and Chance unfolded the letter, scanning it briefly before tossing it onto the bed beside him. The note simply stated:
Dear Chance,
I know things are over between us and it's all my fault. I don't want to hurt you further by trying to explain something that I don't understand myself. I only want to say that I am truly, deeply sorry for hurting you. You deserve so much better, and I hope with all my heart that you find the love you deserve.
Alex
It seemed that Alex wanted to move on without looking back, and Chance decided he would do the same. He was relieved to be free of Alex without any fuss or drama.
He looked down, realizing he was rubbing his fingers over the dark love bite Mark had left above his left nipple, over his heart. Chance felt more regret over his hasty parting with Mark that morning than he did over losing Alex. How sad was that?
He shrugged those thoughts aside and returned to the task of getting dressed. He didn't want to think about love or loss, not now. Beverly had offered him a perfect distraction, and he didn't want to keep the lady waiting.
Saturday, July 31, 2010.
Mark switched his cell phone to silent and shoved it into the pocket of his suit pants. He checked the time, and Ricardo's tarnished watch taunted him with the minute hand resting only seven minutes away from the hour mark. If he didn't hurry he would be late for Nate's ceremony.
Cursing under his breath, Mark checked his pockets to be sure he had his wallet and the keycard that would allow him back into the room when the show was over. That done, he rushed out the door and down the hall to the elevator, relieved that he only had to travel down three floors to reach his destination. He would probably be late, of course, but wasn't that considered fashionable these days?
The elevator let him off on the second floor, and Mark made his way to the large ornate doors leading into Ballroom A. The ushers were just closing the doors when he arrived, and one scowled at his late arrival. He pulled his invitation out of his suit pocket and they grudgingly opened the doors and led him inside, seating him in one of the empty chairs at the back of the room.
Mark got himself settled and watched while the three front rows were seated. He rolled his eyes at the production and glanced around the room, taking in the rich decorations and admiring the beautiful flowers that adorned the room. He had to admit it was beautiful, and far more tasteful that he had expected. Nate struck him as more the gaudy type, eager to flash his wealth and importance. The careful elegance of the set-up suggested care and consideration for the occasion, making the ceremony, for him, a tribute to the skill of the decorator.
At last everyone was in place and a man in a charcoal tuxedo took the floor. He introduced himself as Nate's best friend and business partner, and Mark had to hold back a snort, remembering a time he had held that role. The Nate he knew wasn't capable of having friendships, and he didn't share with anyone.
The 'friend' offered a flattering speech, outlining his history with the happy couple and detailing the major events in their lives. The business achievements far outweighed the personal, and Mark was surprised to hear that they'd had a son. He was only mentioned briefly, like a small side note next to the more important events like mergers and buyouts and their expansion up the east coast.
It struck Mark as odd, and he sat back in his chair, tuning out the man's incessant chattering and wondering about Nate's son. He had to feel sorry for the boy. How old was he? What was he like? Would he grow up to be as devious and selfish as his father?
The questions rolling around in his head were abruptly cut off when everyone in the room around him rose to their feet. Mark followed suit, standing up and turning to face the doors he had entered through. Two solemn looking ushers met between the two doors, each taking a handle and slowly walking backward, opening the doors to reveal Nathan and Annabelle Marshall standing just outside the room.
A respectful hush fell over the audience, followed by soft murmurs of appreciation as the couple made their way down the aisle. He heard countless comments about how beautiful Annabelle was, how regal and stately, but Mark was struck by the expression on her face. He could only describe it as satisfied. Nathan was complimented for his good fortune, and Mark wondered just how good it really was. The woman at his side appeared sharp and calculating, more so even than Nate, and Mark wondered if maybe she was the true brains of the operation. It made sense, given her background in the business.
The pair reached the front of the room and turned to face their guests. They were joined by a priest, decked out in flowing robes, who signaled for everyone to be seated. Mark was disappointed to discover that their mysterious son wouldn't be making an appearance now, and he sank down into his seat with a sigh. The priest began the usual spiel about how they were all gathered together to celebrate a loving union, and Mark settled in for a long, drawn-out show.
He wasn't disappointed. The wedding he had attended twenty-five years earlier was played out again before his eyes, broken down into pieces and interrupted by extra speeches and by special acknowledgments of particularly important friends and business associates.
Mark's gaze roamed the room, watching the other guests stifling yawns and trying not to fidget in their seats. The exceptionally well-dressed people sitting on the first two rows all seemed engrossed in the proceedings, but the rest of the throng continually cast furtive glances at their watches.
Mark shifted his hands in his lap so the face of his own watch was easily visible. The chipped glass sparkled in the bright light, and he smiled, remembering Ricardo's assessment of the original wedding: "Damn. I never saw so many trained monkeys in one place before! And they're all dressed up like penguins, too. Do they really think they're fooling anyone?" Mark had shaken his head and hidden a grin behind his hand. Ricardo's tuxedo had been hand tailored, the most expensive thing he owned. It probably didn't cost half as much as the suits on the other guests, but with his pride he would never have admitted that. He'd taken his clothes very seriously and had been horrified to learn that Mark had to rent his tux for the wedding.
Mark had spent the entire ceremony picking at the cummerbund and tugging at his collar. When the ceremony ended and it was time to go through the reception line he had to walk close behind Ricardo to hide the damage he had done to the outfit. The rental place had charged him an extra seventy-five dollars when he returned the tux the next morning, to cover the damages.
Mark's fond memories carried him through the rest of the ceremony, and finally everyone in the room relaxed. Nathan and Annabelle were escorted out of the room and across the hall to the large ballroom where the reception was being held. The front three rows then stood and exited by twos in a pretentious parade of pomp and finery. Once they had cleared the room, the rest of the guests began filing out, following the leaders into the reception hall.
\*\*\*\*
Chance ignored his father's glare and threaded his way through the crowded room to where Beverly waited with his mother. The people scheduled to participate in the upcoming ceremony milled about the room, reviewing their lines and going over which cues signaled what actions. The arrangements all seemed complicated and exaggerated, and Chance couldn't help but be relieved he had been spared an acting role in the ridiculous production.
He had to make an entrance, of course. The family and close friends, along with select social figures, were to be escorted into the ballroom just before the ceremony began. His date with Beverly had been carefully set up to prevent any gossip, rumors, or embarrassment. His relationship with Alex had mostly been brushed aside, but it had not gone completely unnoticed by Nathan Marshall's cronies. His parents seemed to have the ridiculous notion that having their son appear with a woman at his side would preserve the appearances that meant so much to them.
And, well, if they wanted to delude themselves like that, let them. Personally, he didn't care. He only chose to attend the ceremony because he knew he would get hell for it if he didn't show. He wore the suit his father had sent up for him, but he skipped the appointment with the in-house hairdresser. Instead he decided to be bold and pulled his hair back into a ponytail, knowing it would make his father furious and thrilling at the thought.
Reaching his mother's side at last, he met her eyes dead on, daring her to comment on his appearance or his tardiness... anything. To his surprise however she graced him with what appeared to be a genuine smile, perhaps even an amused smirk before throwing her arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a tight hug. Stunned, Chance returned her embrace, enjoying the unusual experience.
"You look wonderful, dear." One of her hands cupped the back of his head, and Chance could feel her fingers toying with the ponytail at the nape of his neck. The tone of her voice was almost conspiratorial, and Chance could feel her smile against his cheek as she spoke. It pleased him to think that she might suspect why he wore his hair the way he did, and that she might even approve.
Letting her go, he stepped back and looked into her eyes for confirmation of his suspicions. Her expression had become the usual schooled mask of cheerfulness she always wore, but there was a glint in her eye that suggested maybe he was right.
"And you look radiant, Mother, as always."
Chance placed a quick peck on her cheek and turned to Beverly, who stood next to his mother, wearing a glittering emerald green cocktail dress that made her look years older. He wondered fleetingly if his father realized that the date he'd arranged for him was under the legal drinking age, but he shrugged the thought off. His father probably just saw a beautiful young woman seated behind a desk. Seeing how she dwarfed his son would probably cause the man to burst a vein or something.
"And you look more stunning than ever. Thank you for coming."
Beverly laughed and offered her arm. "I look ridiculous next to you, and we both know it. But thank you for the flattery just the same." As Chance took her arm, he could see that the ushers were waving frantically in his direction, trying desperately to organize everyone for the grand parade to their seats in the ballroom.
"Hey! You really are stunning. That dress sets off your eyes beautifully. I'm the one who looks ridiculous. Now, we'd better get moving." Beverly just shook her head and curled her hand around Chance's forearm. Chance turned back to his mother, offering her a quick smile.
She just nodded and waved them away with a vacant smile. Disappointed that he hadn't been able to get more out of her, Chance turned and led Beverly across the room to where the ushers were waiting. As quickly as they reached the other side of the room the doors were opened and the line of special guests---significant business and political associates---were ushered to their seats on the front rows. Chance and Beverly were in the third row, behind the power-brokers his father considered more important.
The purpose of this ceremony had nothing to do with love or family, and the seating arrangements proved it. Still, Chance was glad he wasn't on display on the front row. He couldn't help squirming in his seat, crossing his legs and trying to distribute his weight off his sore ass. It took a great deal of effort to keep the grin off his face when he considered his condition and the reason for it. Yes, he hurt a little, but the memories gave him such a thrill that he actually enjoyed the sensation and managed to maintain a dreamy smile throughout the ceremony.
Mark held back and waited for everyone else to exit first. Once the room cleared, he bypassed the reception line and heading straight for the refreshment tables. He had already traded all the words he wanted to with Nate, and now he was determined to have a good time.
The buffet was covered in hors d'œuvres and fancy little finger sandwiches, expensive, dainty snacks with little flavor. Along the far wall Mark spotted the bar, and he decided to visit that first. After sitting through two hours of boring speeches and revolting nonsense, he needed a stiff drink. He'd earned it, the same as everyone else seated in the peanut gallery.
Mark found an empty space up close to the bar and turned his back on the crowd, waiting to catch the server's eye. A minute later he had a shot of whiskey in front of him, and downed it in one throw. Setting the glass back down on the bar he considered the merits of a second shot, but decided against it. The last thing he needed was a hangover when he met with Manny and Louie tomorrow.
The bartender returned and offered him another shot and he refused. The glass disappeared and the man moved off swiftly to deal with other guests. Mark stayed at the bar for a few more minutes, watching the servers with a professional eye and admiring the effortless way they maneuvered behind the cramped bar.
Finally Mark decided he'd had enough. He only knew one person here, and he didn't particularly care to talk to Nate again. He'd gotten the closure he'd come for; he would never feel any more regret that the relationship was over. Now he just wanted to head back up to his room and get some sleep. He had a wake-up call scheduled for four in the morning and that wasn't very far off.
Mark nodded his thanks to the head bartender and was about to straighten back up and leave when someone crowded up behind him. A heavy arm wrapped around his shoulders and the noxiously sweet scent of champagne blew over his face as Nate whispered in his ear, "Still here, I see. I knew you couldn't keep away. You want to head back to your room, finish what we started the other night? If we make it fast, no one will even miss me."
Nate was grinding against Mark's butt, right there in front of his wife and all their guests. Disgusted, Mark pushed him away and rounded on the arrogant prick. Before he could stop himself he grabbed Nate by the upper arms and shook him, whispering his reply back into Nate's ear. "It is never going to happen, you sick bastard! You got that? I don't want your hands or any other part of you on me ever again! If I never see you again, it will be too soon!"
Mark gave Nate a shove and backed away as fast as he could. He raced through the crowd and out the door, thankful for the easy escape his size provided him with as everyone moved out of his way.
He arrived at the elevators just as someone else was getting out. He climbed in, pressed the button for his floor, and willed the car to move faster. He didn't want to spend a minute longer under Nathan Marshall's roof, and if that meant spending the night in a hard plastic chair at the airport, so be it.
\*\*\*\*
The ceremony went off without a hitch and Chance rose to his feet, offering his arm to Beverly. Everyone had remembered their lines and cues and all the participants moved perfectly in the finely orchestrated dance.
Chance couldn't get out fast enough when the ceremony ended. Sitting through his father's arrogant display of wealth and power made him feel dirty. How could anyone live like that? It frightened him that he shared a name and DNA with that man.
For the next half hour, Chance endured the sycophantic company of his father's guests. Along with the rich, famous, and powerful members of the city, Nathan Marshall had invited various other business people as well. Some were his competitors, but most were retailers or represented some form of business that catered to the hotel industry. They all hoped that by attending they could secure better contracts or more business from the more powerful people present.
It seemed to Chance that everyone present had come to further their own agenda, their own business or social status, rather than to witness or celebrate the silver anniversary of a loving couple. Of course, not even the couple in question had come for that reason, and to Chance's mind, that only made it worse.
The journey across the ballroom to the bar proved long and tedious. He could feel Beverly's weight dragging on his arm, and realized she too felt the drain of the evening. Turning to her, he silently thanked the gods for providing him with such an easy excuse to escape the wheeling and dealing. "Bev, would you like to sit down? I can get you something to drink, if you'd like."
Beverly smiled and nodded enthusiastically. Chance led her to the closest table and pulled out a chair for her, waiting until she was seated before hurrying toward the bar, careful not to make eye contact with anyone. He didn't think he could take it if he had to listen to one more comment about how romantic it was to see two people still so much in love after all these years. Even the fools spouting those ridiculous platitudes knew them to be false, and Chance doubted his artificial smile could hold much longer.
Reaching the end of the bar at last, Chance finally allowed himself to look around. He'd been looking dead ahead since he left Beverly, for fear of catching someone's eye and being stopped again. Now he scanned the people around the bar, looking for an opening large enough to get in while still avoiding conversation. His gaze landed on a tall, imposing form towering over the rest of the crowd at the end of the bar, and for a moment he forgot to breathe.
It was Mark. Even with his back turned, Chance recognized him. There couldn't possibly be two such men in one hotel, could there? His salt and pepper hair had been combed back neatly, and his body was now showcased in a tuxedo rather than jeans and leather, but there was no mistaking that body.
Chance's heart raced, and all the blood in his head immediately rushed to his groin. Every other thought fled Chance's mind as he slowly worked his way toward the object of his desire. All he wanted in that moment was to wrap himself around Mark and hold on. He couldn't believe he'd found him again. This time he wasn't going to let him get away without at least learning his last name.
Chance pushed his way through the crowd, anxious to reach Mark and desperate not to lose sight of him. He had to weave around a large group of ladies, dodging their hands as they gestured animatedly, and forcing his attention briefly away from the prize. When he looked back his view of Mark was blocked by another man, standing much too close behind him.
At first glance the newcomer appeared to be leaning around Mark to get the bartender's attention, but Chance's eyes, which had been instantly drawn to Mark's ass, recognized the grinding motion of the other man's hips. Neither did he miss the hand that landed on Mark's thigh or the close proximity of the other man's lips to Mark's ear...
Chance raised his eyes to the other man's face, his father's face, and he had to fight down a sudden rush of nausea. Those were his father's hands groping his dream lover. It didn't matter that his father knew nothing about the other night. Mark belonged to him, damn it. What he had with Mark was the only beautiful thing he had going for him, and he couldn't let his father's grubby hands taint that.
Outraged, he struggled to force his way through the unrelenting crowd. He nearly bowled over an older couple in his haste to reach the pair, and had to make himself to stop and steady the gentleman before he tumbled to the floor.
After making his apologies he looked up, just in time to see an equally outraged Mark push his father away. Mark leaned down to Nate's ear and grabbed his shoulder. He gave Nate a shake and said a few hasty words before turning to storm off across the room and out the door to the lobby. Nate's expression didn't falter, his self-satisfied smirk remaining in place, but Chance didn't spare him another thought. Instead he turned and followed Mark, wanting to feel his arms around him and needing an explanation.
The crowd had parted swiftly to make way for Mark's towering form, but it was not so kind to Chance. Shorter than many of the people around him, he had to shove and weave his way through the throng. A few people tried to speak to him, but he rudely ignored their remarks and continued to fight his way toward the door.
When he reached the lobby his progress was stopped by Beverly grabbing his arm and pulling him over to a corner. He went with her reluctantly, scanning the room and hallway for Mark. A few people were lounging on the plush sofas or standing in small groups, talking and laughing, but he saw no sign of Mark anywhere. It didn't matter, though. He knew Mark's room number.
"What are you doing, Chance? Where are you going?"
Beverly shook him by the arms, demanding his attention, and Chance raised his gaze to her worried face. He took one of her hands and squeezed, grinning up at her. He was so excited about seeing Mark again he was shaking. "That was him Bev! He's still here. I need to go after him!"
Beverly's brows drew together and her mouth turned down in a frown as she studied him, and Chance grew anxious.
"Him who? Do you mean to tell me that the old guy you just chased out here is your prince charming?"
Chance laughed at her horrified expression. Sometimes she seemed far wiser than her years, and then, at times like these she would remind him that she was only nineteen. "He's not old, Beverly. ... he's experienced." Chance grinned but Beverly's frown deepened.
"Yeah, well, his experience includes a nice long history with your dad."
Beverly's remark stung like a slap to the face and Chance dropped her hand and stepped away, frowning back at her.
"What are you talking about? When my father tried to talk to him just now he told him off and tore out of here like he had the plague." Chance crossed his arms over his chest, unconsciously rubbing his thumb over the bruise above his left nipple.
Beverly sighed and shook her head. "But he was here wasn't he? At your parents' party. Think, Chance. All of the guests here are 'by invitation only.' They didn't just meet. In fact, when he checked in, your father met him in the lobby and called him an 'old friend.' He personally showed him up to his room, so they could catch up, and he didn't come back down to the office that night. He's one of your dad's 'friends'."
Chance leaned back against the wall and let Beverly's news sink in. Mark was one of his father's fuck buddies? But how could that be? He was so strong, confident and sure of himself, not to mention kind. There had to be some mistake. "No, you're wrong. There has to be some other explanation. You didn't see how he reacted in there, when my father tried to grope him!"
Chance's voice had grown louder with every word, and Beverly reached out, placing two fingers over his lips. She smiled and moved closer to him, stopping with her face only inches from his. "I'm just saying be careful, all right? Get all the facts and take it slow."
Chance smiled and rocked forward, placing a kiss on his best friend's cheek. "I'll be careful, but I'm not leaving empty handed this time. This is all just some big, horrible mix-up, you'll see." He headed down the hall for the elevator, determined to see Mark and get some answers.
"I hope you're right." Beverly called out, as the door closed between them.
When the elevator reached his floor, Mark tore out of it like it was on fire. He shrugged out of his coat, throwing it over his arm while he struggled to open the door with his keycard. God, how he missed real keys. When the light finally flashed green he barreled through the door, slipping off his shoes before it even closed behind him.
Mark shoved his shoes and his suit coat into his open duffel bag, not bothering to fold them. They would have to be laundered when he got home anyway, so why bother? Most of his packing was already done, and he was ready to get out of there. Only his toiletries waited to be packed, and his clothes for the next morning were laid out in a chair next to the dresser. He worked open his belt and the fly of his dress pants, letting them fall unceremoniously to the floor. He stepped out of them and scooped them up, shoving them into the bag with his coat and shoes.
Mark was too furious to care about niceties. He couldn't believe that Nate had propositioned him again, right there in the middle of his anniversary party, not six feet away from his 'loving' wife. Annabelle had stood idly by, watching them, understanding clear on her face. She just watched as her husband fucked people over in more ways than one without lifting a finger to stop him or uttering one word of reproach.
Mark loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt before making a quick round of the room, checking to be sure he had everything. He wasn't going to spend another night in Nathan's hotel. His flight left at six in the morning, he could nap at the airport. Satisfied that he had everything, Mark went into the bathroom to pack his shaving kit. He gathered his things into the kit and splashed cold water onto his face, trying to wash away the lingering scent of Nate's breath.
He carried his things back into the bedroom and set them on the dresser next to his bag and went back to work unbuttoning his shirt. His progress was interrupted by a knock at the door, and he almost refused to answer it. It had to be Nate. Who else could it be? But ignoring the now insistent banging wasn't really an option. Oh well. If Nate couldn't take 'no' for an answer, perhaps a fist to the chin would convince him.
Mark took a deep breath and yanked the door open, prepared to tell Nate off, but the reproof died in his throat. Instead of Nate, the door swung open to reveal a pair of worried blue eyes and a shock of frizzy blond hair. Mark stared at the vision before him, afraid to move or even breathe, afraid that Chance would disappear if so much as blinked. Fortunately, Chance didn't harbor the same qualms about moving that Mark did. The young man's face broke into radiant grin and he moved into the room eagerly.
"I knew it was you." The soft words didn't even register at first over the pounding of Mark's heart. His mouth hung open, speechless, while Chance gently patted his face dry with a handkerchief he'd pulled out of his breast pocket. Mark closed his eyes and breathed in as deeply as he could, wanting to fill himself with Chance's intoxicating scent.
Chance's fingers brushed over his open mouth and Mark bit down quickly, capturing the digits between his teeth. Chance gasped and pulled his hand away, a dark blush spreading across his face. Mark reached out and cupped his cheek, bending down to taste Chance's parted lips.
Chance returned the kiss with enthusiasm, sucking Mark's tongue into his mouth and tangling them together. Encouraged, Mark reached down and grabbed the younger man's butt, wanting to lift him up and press him against the wall. Instead, Chance wiggled out of the embrace, breaking their kiss and panting for breath, but clinging to Mark's forearms.
"Wait. Please, can we talk?" Chance's eyes were worried, and Mark felt like a horny bastard, ready to start another round with the guy without even stopping to talk first. Nodding, he stepped back and took his hands off the tempting body before him. Struggling for breath, he waited for Chance to explain why he was there.
Chance stepped back and wrapped his arms around his chest like he was giving himself a hug. His confidence was gone, he looked nervous, scared even, and Mark's pulse began to race.
"I, uh, didn't realize you were in town for the big event tonight. That's... um, why I'm here too. So, I was wondering... are you a friend of the bride or the groom?" Chance was fidgeting now, kicking the toe of one shoe with the heel of the other, and he suddenly seemed very young. It surprised him to hear that Chance had been at anniversary party, and he wondered why someone his age would be there.
Mark didn't like watching Chance flounder, and wanting to reassure the younger man he reached out and cupped his chin, raising his face so their eyes met. Chance leaned into the touch, offering Mark a weak smile while he waited for his answer. Mark smiled back and stepped closer, drawn to the young man and eager to move back again from talking to kissing.
Mark leaned down and angled for another kiss, but stopped himself when he saw tears standing in Chance's eyes. Mark's answer was clearly important to him. Chance had only come to talk, and Mark was way out of line pressing for more. Ashamed and disappointed, Mark pressed his forehead to Chance's and tried to rein in his out of control libido.
Chance's hand's reached out and clutched Mark's hips, toying with the waistband of his boxers. Mark chuckled, reminded of his state of undress. He pulled away, heading for the pile of clothes he'd left on the dresser. There was no way he could carry on a conversation with this sexy young man while wearing nothing but a shirt and underwear.
Chance saw where he was headed and he chuckled too, finally relaxing. Mark reached for the buttons on his shirt, deciding he might as well change that too, while he was at it.
The door to his room rattled, and then opened with a loud bang. Startled, Mark turned to find Nathan Marshall strolling into the room. He slipped a card key into his suit pocket, the passkey again, and his gaze landed on Chance. Mark stiffened, furious and horrified by the thought of his sweet young lover being exposed to Nate's viciousness.
Nate smirked and walked over to Chance, throwing his arm over Chance's shoulder. His gaze shifted from Chance's face to sweep up and down Mark's body, taking in his half-naked state. Nate's smirk widened and he began slapping Chance's shoulder. "Well, shit, Chancellor! It didn't take you any time at all to get Mark Nelson to drop his pants for you. You really are a chip off the old block, after all!"
The laugh that followed Nate's words hit Mark like a physical punch to the face. He took a moment just to stare into the faces of his ex and his new lover. Shit! With the two of them standing side by side, Mark couldn't miss the resemblance. Chance got his build, his eyes and his hair from his mother, but the line of his jaw, the long thin nose and those wide set eyebrows? Those he got from his father. God, how had he missed that? How could fate be so cruel?
Chance just stood there under his father's arm, not saying a word. He seemed shell-shocked, as surprised by Nate's appearance as Mark had been, and a bit of Mark's anger subsided, but not for long. Nate squeezed his son's shoulder and advanced on Mark, leering openly.
"Since you like Marshall men so much, why don't you try and handle us both together?"
Chance just stood there, blinking between the two men. Enjoying the show? Mark couldn't keep the disgust off his face, and he didn't want to. The idea that Chance had set him up for this suddenly filled him with rage. How had they set him up? How had they managed to plan this little get-together?
"Get out of here. Both of you." Mark hoped that he could intimidate the two smaller men enough to make them go. He'd been had, and he could concede to that gracefully, but he would not submit himself to their games any further. He didn't deserve this, no one did, and his heart couldn't take any more.
Without a word Mark walked over to them and put his hand on Chance's shoulder in an effort to push him toward the door. He couldn't bring himself to even touch Nate again, and he berated himself for the fact that touching Chance still shot jolts of desire through his body.
Instead of stepping aside and allowing Mark to guide him to the door, Chance wrapped his arms around Mark's waist and pressed his thigh between Mark's legs. Startled by the unexpected move, Mark froze, glaring down into the boy's deceptively angelic face. He didn't know what to think when the little imp winked up at him and turned back to his father.
"I don't know, Dad. Mark's an energetic man. Are you sure you're up to playing with us?" Chance slid his hand across Mark's chest and down his stomach and Mark had to suppress a gasp.
Nate snorted, palming his own crotch and eyeing the two of them with obvious enjoyment. "Don't worry. You two are both going to have a hard time keeping up with me."
Mark had to swallow back the bile in response to Chance's words. How could he have been so wrong about him? He put a hand on Chance's chest to push the younger man away, but stopped when their eyes met again. The mischievous gleam in those bright blue eyes, and Chance's disarming smile made Mark pause, curious to hear what he would say next.
Chance's hand slid down Mark's stomach and cupped his cock, rubbing and squeezing gently. "Well, what do you say lover? Do you wanna play? Want to watch me suck his cock while you fuck my ass?"
Chance mouthed the words "play along", before turning away and grabbing the bulge between his own father's legs. Mark had to bite his tongue to hold back a stunned laugh. Chance was nothing like his father. He hadn't betrayed him. What Mark had done for Chance back at the bar the other night had nothing on what Chance was doing for him now. The look of horror on Nate's face alone made up for almost everything.
Taking the hint, Mark decided to follow Chance's lead and play along with the scene the younger man had set. Moving around Chance he came up close behind Nate, crowding against his ex-lover's back and reaching around to grab Chance's butt, sandwiching Nate between them. Leaning over Nate's shoulder, Mark licked the side of his face while Nate struggled to get free of them.
"How about I fuck him while he sucks you?" Mark asked, thinking he sounded like something out of a cheap porno film, and loving it. "Would you like that, baby? I don't want anyone else's dick inside of you. Your body is mine pet, and I don't share."
Chance moaned and leaned in so their mouths met in an unexpected kiss, and for a moment, Mark forgot where they were. He forgot about Nate and what was happening around him until his irate ex's elbow slammed into his stomach.
Winded by the hard blow, Mark pulled back and grabbed his stomach, allowing Nate to pull free. Chance leaned back against the wall and grinned at Mark, looking like three kinds of a fool. Despite the pain in his gut, Mark found himself chuckling at the look on his young lover's face. Chance looked like he'd just conquered the world, and Mark doubted that anything could ever damage his spirit again.
Nate rounded on Mark, his face almost purple with rage. "What the fuck are you trying to pull? Are you punishing me for not sticking around to play house with you? Are you trying to destroy my son's life instead? Is that it? Because it won't work!"
Nate turned back to face Chance, pointing an accusing finger at him.
"And you. I've said all I'm going to say to you. If you want to throw your life away, fine! Be some guy's bitch! But don't think for one minute that I'm going to get you out of it when you realize that I'm right."
Nate took a moment to glare at them both before storming out of the hotel room. Mark waited for the door to close behind his retreating back, releasing a sigh of relief when he heard the soft click of the door closing. In the silence that followed, he turned his head to meet Chance's stunned gaze. Their eyes locked and held for a few brief seconds before they both sank to the edge of the bed, laughing with uncontrolled hysteria.
Slowly the laughter faded into a few scattered snickers and even a couple of hiccups. Chance managed to regain his self-control first, landing a thoughtful gaze on Mark's face. "So, you and my Dad..." Chance looked away, his face flushing a deep red before he continued his thought. "You guys were... you know?"
"Lovers?" Mark supplied softly, shaking his head. "I thought so, once. We lived together for a time, and we had sex---a lot---but, honestly? Our relationship was completely fucked up. I was in love with him, and I thought we were going to be together forever, but he had other plans." Mark shrugged and looked away too, embarrassed to admit how foolish he had been.
Chance leaned over, wrapping his slender arms around Mark's neck. Mark smiled and buried his face in Chance's neck, breathing in his delicious scent and kissing the sensitive skin behind his ear.
"Who are you, Mark? What's your last name? What do you do? Where do you live? You are single, right?"
Mark smiled against Chance's neck and rubbed a hand up his back, tangling his fingers in the soft ponytail at the nape of Chance's neck. He pulled back and peered down at the hopeful expression on Chance's face. Mark had hated the way they'd parted on Friday morning. He'd felt a strong connection to Chance, had even imagined that with a little more time he could easily have fallen in love with the younger man. But he never imagined that Chance might have felt the same way, and parting as strangers had seemed like the only logical course of action then. Now, he wasn't so sure.
"Well, Chancellor Marshall, let me see if I can answer everything for you. My name is Mark Nelson. I own a bar in Sacramento called the MN. I am single. I... My partner of over twenty years passed away in an accident a year ago, and I've been alone ever since."
Chance frowned and sat up, reaching for Mark's hand and threading their fingers together. "Twenty years? Mark, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."
Mark squeezed Chance's hand and raised it to his lips, planting a kiss on the back of it. "Thank you. Ricky was a good man, a good partner. He went out doing what he loved, at least. The worst part of it, I think, is not having someone to wake up with." Mark tried to shrug it off, not wanting to talk about it anymore.
Chance got the hint. He wrapped his other hand around the back of Mark's, sandwiching Mark's hand between his own. "So, the MN in Sacramento, huh? That place is amazing. It's really yours?"
"Yeah. I opened it right out of college. It's uh... The M stands for Mark and the N was for your father. We were planning to go into business together before... Well, before he met your mother. "
Chance squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry. For what he did to you."
Mark smiled and looked up at the ceiling. "It was a long time ago. And if it hadn't happened, we wouldn't be here now, hmm?" Mark shrugged and turned to look Chance in the eyes. "So you've been to the MN then? You're at college in Sacramento, aren't you?"
"Yeah. We uh, live in the same town." Chance ducked his head, but not before Mark noticed the deep blush and wide grin that covered his face. They sat together quietly for a few minutes, each lost in his own thoughts.
"Mark?"
"Yeah?"
"I was wondering. When we get back to Sacramento, do you want to maybe get together some time? I'd really like to get to know you better, if you'll let me."
Mark's breath caught with surprise and relief. He had never heard a more welcome suggestion. He'd wanted to ask Chance the same thing, but held back, sensing that if things were to go any further between them, Chance needed to be the one to ask. Mark squeezed Chance's hand, reassuring them both, and nodded.
"Yeah, I'd like that."
\*\*\*\*
"Thank God." Chance chased Mark's lips, attacking them with greed. His heart was pounding painfully against his ribs, coursing adrenaline through his body and making him needy. Finding the courage to ask Mark to see him again was the most frightening thing he had ever done. He'd feared his parents' anger when he came out to them, but that was nothing next to the fear of rejection.
Mark opened to him, allowing Chance's tongue into his mouth. Encouraged, Chance climbed onto Mark's lap, straddling his hips and cupping the back of Mark's head with both hands, holding him still and taking the kiss deeper.
Mark's hands cupped his ass, pressing their groins together and Chance lost control, shamelessly grinding their hard cocks together in a frantic rhythm. He leaned forward, pressing Mark back onto the mattress, looking for better leverage.
Chance lay with his chest flush against Mark and his knees planted on the mattress next to Mark's hips. He continued to thrust wildly against him, desperate to come. His lungs were beginning to burn, but he didn't care. He never wanted to break the contact between their lips. The pressure against his ass increased, becoming almost painful, but it barely slowed Chance down.
Mark pulled his lips away and Chance whimpered, trying to capture Mark's mouth again. Mark dodged, turning his head and denying Chance what he wanted. "Whoa, now. Slow down, baby! Too many clothes. You'll ruin your suit."
Mark let go of his ass and he worked his hands between them, sliding them up his chest and over his shoulders, trying to work the suit coat off Chance's shoulders. Chance shrugged the garment off and sat up, reaching for his belt.
In a few moments they were half-naked. Mark reached for the buttons on Chance's shirt, but Chance slapped his hands away. The essentials were bare, and Chance needed too badly to care about the rest.
Chance settled back on top of Mark, clinging to his upper arms and aligning his aching cock with Mark's hard shaft. Chance was trembling with need, his entire body covered in a layer of sweat. He stared into Mark's eyes, grinding his groin forcefully against Mark's and silently begging him for release.
Mark stared back up at him, not blinking and not uttering another word of protest. Chance increased his pace, thrusting harder and faster against Mark, looking for something, anything, to send him over the edge.
Suddenly Mark smiled, laugh lines appearing around his beautiful eyes, now almost black with arousal. His hands landed on Chance's bare ass with enough force to sting, startling Chance enough to still his frantic motions. Mark's hands gripped his ass, holding him still while Mark braced his feet on the floor.
With a loud grunt, Mark thrust up against Chance, and that was all it took. Chance's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he came, shaking violently with the force of his orgasm. Mark wasn't far behind him, adding his own release to the mix. Chance let his body go slack, collapsing on top of Mark, sated and exhausted. He nuzzled into the crook of Mark's neck and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply and enjoying Mark's scent. Mark's arms slid up his back, holding him tight and Chance sighed, content.
He had almost dozed off when Mark's body began to shake beneath him, the older man suddenly laughing. He rolled off Mark and onto the mattress beside him, suddenly realizing just how uncomfortable a position Mark must be in.
Mark slowly sat up on the edge of the bed and turned to look at Chance. The laughter even reached Mark's eyes and Chance couldn't help but join in as he looked them both over. Mark was still wearing a half buttoned shirt and his tie hung loosely around his neck. Chance was still fully clothed, except that his pants and underwear were bunched over his knees. Hoping to hide his embarrassment, Chance reached behind his head and pulled the rubber band out of his hair, shaking his head and allowing it to fall around his face.
Mark rose to his feet and turned to face Chance, grinning and holding out his hand.
"I think maybe we'd better get cleaned up, don't you?"
Chance grinned and took Mark's outstretched hand, allowing Mark to pull him out of the bed. Once he was on his feet, Chance let the rest of his clothes fall away and followed Mark into the bathroom.
When he entered he found Mark bent over, naked, reaching into the shower stall to turn on the water. Chance nearly swallowed his tongue at the sight. Then Mark stood and turned to him, smiling as he climbed into the narrow space, and Chance's cock twitched against his thigh.
"Come on, baby." Mark held his hand out again, and Chance didn't hesitate. He immediately pressed into Mark's arms and ducked under the warm shower spray, tilting his head back and begging for a kiss.
Mark eagerly gave him what he wanted, sliding his tongue into Chance's mouth. Their tongues dueled and Chance got lost in the moment, only breaking away when he heard the snap of a bottle opening. A moment later Mark's hands where in his hair, massaging a sweet citrus-scented shampoo into his curls.
Moaning with pleasure, he let his head fall back into the shower spray, reveling in the feel of Mark's hands massaging his scalp. He held onto Mark's shoulders while Mark's lips kissed and sucked up marks along his neck and chest.
When the teasing attention stopped, Chance opened his eyes again. Mesmerized, he watched while Mark worked shampoo into his own hair. Chance's hand fumbled against the shower ledge, searching blindly for the soap while he watched Mark's fingers work, unwilling to take his eyes off the incredible sight.
Chance's fingers wrapped around the bar of soap and he brought the fragrant bar to Mark's chest, slowly rubbing it over the soft patch of hair adorning him there. The extreme intimacy of washing one another struck Chance unexpectedly when his gaze and his hands met at Mark's groin. Mark's cock hung mostly flaccid, only slightly plumped in response to the attention from the washing. They were both soft and spent, drained of urgency---but still interested and reluctant to pull apart.
Mark's soapy hand glided over Chance's back, reciprocating the attention, and Chance shuddered. The extra, tender care and attention Mark was showing him now overwhelmed his senses. If their love-making continued much longer, Chance would surely lose himself completely to Mark, heart, body and soul... if he hadn't already. Nothing about their time together felt forced or contrived. It felt real and right, and Chance never wanted it to end.
Mark's hands worked their way down his back and over the swell of his ass, one soapy hand pressing between his cheeks and sliding over his still tender hole. The soap stung and burned, breaking through the romantic haze and making Chance gasp and jerk away.
"Sorry, baby." Mark tilted his head, placing soft kisses against Chance's eyelids and nose. Chance couldn't help but smile and cuddle back into Mark's arms, placing a few brief kisses of his own on Mark's chin.
Seconds later Mark left his arms, sinking to his knees and urging Chance to turn around and face the shower wall. Confused, Chance obliged and turned his back to the shower spray. The hot water running down his back felt good, soothing, and Chance relaxed, enjoying the feel of Mark's hands roaming along his hips and lower back.
It didn't surprise him at all when those hand dipped lower, one grasping his butt and the other fondling his balls. Chance moaned his appreciation and Mark urged his legs apart with gentle strokes along his inner thigh.
The grip on his butt became firmer and the hand on his thigh slid up his leg and onto the other cheek. Both hands massaged his butt gently for a few seconds before stopping to cup each cheek in one hand, spreading him wide. Chance looked over his shoulder at Mark and opened his mouth to object, feeling far too vulnerable, being bared this way, but the objection never passed his lips.
Mark buried his face between Chance's spread ass cheeks and his tongue grazed over his exposed hole. Chance squeaked in surprise and turned back to face the shower wall, leaning hard against it for support while his entire body vibrated with excitement. He spread his legs wider, allowing Mark's lips to kiss and nibble at the tender flesh between his ass cheeks, his tongue circling and pressing into the sensitive hole. The sensations were overwhelmingly good, soothing his aching muscles and sore skin in a way he never would have expected. Much to his surprise, he even noticed his cock straining back to life and taking an interest again. Chance closed his eyes and went with it, loving the unexpected pleasure.
Pressing his forehead against the tiled wall, Chance ran one hand over his own chest, pinching and twisting at his nipples. With his other hand he reached for his renewed erection, grasping it firmly in his fist and tugging quickly. He tried to match the rhythm of his hand with Mark's tongue as it speared in and out of his ass.
The sensual assault from Mark's mouth had Chance on the edge, and the sudden, tantalizing pressure of Mark's fingers slipping back between his legs to fondle his balls finished the job and sent Chance into another mind-blowing orgasm.
Chance felt Mark pull away from his ass and he slumped against the wall, struggling to catch his breath and come down from the sudden high of his orgasm. A sharp bite, followed by several soft kisses along the curve of his ass, drew Chance out of his stupor and he pushed back off the wall, standing up.
Mark's hands wrapped around Chance's waist, and slowly the older man climbed to his feet. Chance turned in Mark's embrace, wrapping his arms around the big man's neck and stretching up on his toes to kiss Mark. There were no words to express the way he felt, but Chance hoped that he could express at least part of it through that kiss.
Mark threaded his fingers into Chance's hair, holding him still and pressing him up against the wall. Mark's dick prodded along Chance's abs, Mark rocking gently against him. Chance moaned into Mark's mouth and slipped his hand between their bodies, grasping Mark's cock and working the hard length between his fingers.
Mark gasped, letting go of Chance's lips and burying his face in the hair on the top of Chance's head. Chance tugged on Mark's length and Mark began to thrust into his grip, snapping his hips erratically. There was no rhythm to his movements and Chance could tell Mark was already on the edge. He tightened his grip and rubbed his thumb over the tip, bringing it back and pressing the end of his thumbnail into the leaking slit.
Mark grunted and stilled, filling Chance's hand with his release. Chance continued to work Mark's dick, massaging until the tremors stopped. Mark lifted his face from the top of Chance's head and bent down, kissing him sloppily before stepping back and letting the shower spray rinse away his spend.
Chance fell back against the shower wall and Mark turned, reaching to shut the water off. The water stopped falling around them and Mark climbed out of the small shower stall. Chance followed immediately, not wanting to let too much distance come between them.
The glorious vision of Mark's nakedness disappeared behind a large white towel and Chance willed away his disappointment, reaching for another towel. He threw it over his head and scrubbed viciously at his wet hair, feeling awkward again and not knowing what to expect next.
Mark reached out and snatched the towel away from his head, taking his hand and pulling him close. Chance followed Mark willingly out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom.
"Tired, Chance? My flight leaves in a few hours, but we could nap a while, if you want."
Chance brushed his bangs out of his eyes and looked up at Mark, frowning. "You're leaving so soon? I'll see you again though, right? In Sacramento?"
Mark smiled. "Yeah, if you still want to. We've both been through a lot these past few days and we probably shouldn't make any promises just yet. But when you go back for school, if you're still interested look me up, okay?"
Chance rolled his eyes and climbed onto the bed, pulling the covers back and sliding between the sheets. He gestured for Mark to join him and Mark climbed into the bed beside him. Chance pulled the covers up over them both and curled around Mark, using his shoulder as a pillow. "You will see me again, Mark. You can count on it." Chance mumbled, drifting off to sleep with his arm stretching over Mark's chest.
When he woke the next morning, he was alone.
Saturday, August 14, 2010.
Mark swallowed hard, hoping to calm his frayed nerves and to keep down the contents of his churning stomach. The plans for the remodel were drawn up and had been approved by the city that morning. Not wanting to delay things any longer than necessary, Mark was busy creating signs to announce that the bar would be closing for renovations the following weekend, just after the annual party. Finishing with the last sign, he put the cap back on the pen and stood, considering where he should hang them.
A loud crash from behind made Mark jump, turning just in time to see Manny go down, disappearing behind the bar. Louie rushed in from the stock room, almost tripping himself, probably over Manny, and Mark had to suppress a snicker.
"Aw, no! Hey, man! Get your clumsy ass out from behind my bar. I don't have time to be cleaning up after you!" Louie turned his head in Mark's direction, his face twisted in a comic display of outrage and disgust. "What the hell are you laughing at? I told you, I don't want Manuel anywhere near me. Can't you please keep that nitwit out of my work space, before I'm forced to break a bottle over his head?" Louie turned and stormed back into the stock room in a huff.
Mark raised his eyebrows and walked over to the bar, leaning across it to survey the damage. It was quite a sight. Manny, a muscular six foot tall Mexican decked out in cowboy gear, was sprawled out on his back, laughing hysterically. He was surrounded by a few dozen loose shot glasses that had spilled out from a crate he'd obviously tripped over. Mark wiped his hand over his face and then rounded the bar, bending over and offering his hand to Manny.
"You okay, hermano? Nothing broken, I hope?" Mark helped Manny back up onto his feet and leaned him against the bar. Manny was laughing so hard he'd turned purple and he had tears streaming down his face.
"Only my pride, mijo, only my pride!"
Mark shook his head and knelt down behind the bar, gathering up the shot glasses strewn across the floor. He had ordered a hundred of them to give away the following weekend to advertise for the coming re-launch and he was grateful that Manny's fall had only upset one case of them. They were heavy and thick, and they all seemed to have survived the fall. Picking up the last of them Mark paused, running his thumb over the new name of the bar and smiling. The glasses featured the word 'Play' in bright red letters, matching the script from Ricardo's old watch.
Manny crouched down beside him, flinging his arm over his shoulder and taking the glass from Mark with his other hand. He too ran a thumb over the logo, patting Mark on the back and squeezing his shoulder.
"It's a good name, Mark. And you'll turn it into a wonderful place. Ricky, he would have been so proud of you. He would have loved this."
Manny handed the glass back to Mark, and Mark returned it to the case, shaking his head and chuckling. "He'd have taunted me for being a coward. Back when we were planning this, he wanted to call the place the 'play pen.' In the end we'd settled on calling it 'Mark's Place' but, well, this is better I think. Catchier and more meaningful."
Manny slapped him on the back, rising and offering Mark his hand. Mark took it and allowed Manny to pull him to his feet. Manny kept hold of his hand and pulled him into a tight hug. Mark returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around his brother-in-law and holding on tight, grateful for the much needed human contact.
"You've done us all proud, mijo. You deserve this. You deserve to be happy."
Mark nodded against Manny's shoulder. "Thanks, hermano."
"Hey, boss man! It's six o'clock! Are you going to open them doors, or what?"
Louie re-emerged from the stock room, leading the servers and the other bartenders, who had been waiting in the break room, out into the main room. Mark sighed and pulled out of Manny's embrace, signaling for the bouncers to open the doors.
He leaned against the back wall, watching from the far wall as patrons flooded in through the open doors. When Mark realized he was scanning the crowd, looking for a head of blond curls over a pair of crystal blue eyes, he turned away, chastising himself for behaving like a love-sick fool. Chance would be there soon enough. He'd promised.
They'd spoken on the phone every day since they'd parted. Only a few hours had passed since their last call, but Mark was anxious to see Chance again in person, to hold him in his arms. Still, he felt foolish. There was plenty of work to be done, and he didn't have time to daydream.
Just as Mark pushed off the wall, determined to find something to do, Chance walked through the front door. Mark stopped and grinned, waiting for him to look his way. Chance spotted him almost immediately and grinned back.
For a moment they just stood there, staring across the room at each other, grinning like fools. Finally, Chance threaded his way through the crowd over to Mark and launched himself into Mark's arms. Mark caught him, holding on tight and kissing him breathless.
"God, I missed you." Mark whispered against Chance's lips when the younger man pulled back, gasping for breath.
"Well, you've got me now." Chance answered, lowering his feet back onto the floor and ducking his head, blushing a dark red. Half the people in the room were staring at them, smiling or laughing. Mark shrugged. They were only jealous... or happy for him.
"Yes, I have." Mark replied, wrapping Chance in his arms and holding on tight. The lights went down and the music started on the sound system, signaling the start of a busy night. Reluctantly, Mark stepped back and smiled down at Chance, not quite believing he'd come.
"Dance with me?" Chance grinned up at him and grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the dance floor. Mark laughed and followed after his young lover. He never knew what to expect anymore, and he didn't care. Half the fun of life was seeing how it all played out, right?
The End
About the Author
Mathilde Watson spent far too many years being practical, working multiple jobs and trying to worm her way into a steady career. Her dreams of writing and becoming a published author were put away because she foolishly listened to the adults in her life who insisted that writing was a frivolous hobby.
Over the years she tried her hand at many different jobs, but the need to put her ideas on paper never went away. The sudden loss of her last job left her with a lot of time on her hands, and she found herself filling that time writing. One morning she endured yet another lecture on wasting her time with silly stories, and in a fit of rebellion she decided to take a chance and submit one of her stories to a publisher.
She no longer believes in being practical or realistic.
Email:
mathildewatson@yahoo.com
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=100000913317319
Also by Mathilde Watson
Available at Silver Publishing:
Positive Reinforcement
AT PLAY
Play Along

