Seekers

Chapter 2 - Confusion

Jeff lay back in the comfortable queen size bed and stared at the ceiling. Shadows moved a little in the dim lighting filtering from the garden beyond the window. He'd never really encountered many Gay men in his home town, or at the small university college he’d attended, and had certainly never spent much time in their company. For the first time in his life he considered his own lack of interest in women and his feelings toward men. Worse, he considered, was the fact that some materials and activities really turned him on, particularly when associated with other guys. He didn’t feel comfortable about any of this, but somehow couldn’t stop thinking about it. To date his only actual sexual contact with anyone had been with another man. His gym coach in fact, and that had been a large factor in his leaving home and the attempt to find a new start here. 

He found Gay men both attractive and intimidating, and his guilt over his fetish tastes complicated that. He groaned. Why couldn't he be like all the other guys? Why did other guys have such an attraction for him - and how was he going to deal with it while living with such attractive, and openly Gay, men?

His thoughts wandered to his hosts here. Clive and Tom were happily Gay, clearly in a sexual relationship and flaunted their sexuality. To his embarrassment he found that exciting and even arousing. There was certainly no denying that just thinking about Tom coming into the house in his cycling outfit earlier had him 'excited'. His erection drew his hand down to stroke it gently as he recalled the vision in tight lycra he'd met in the passage. Tom had oozed maleness and the lycra had displayed it, leaving no doubts that he was very well endowed in the men's equipment department.

His thoughts strayed to wondering what it would be like to hug, fondle and kiss another man. He'd had quite a bit of 'sex' with his gym coach, but it was just that, not the sort of gentle loving he craved. The image of being enveloped in the embrace of Tom, that impressive package pressed against him rose to his mind's eye. Unconsciously his stroking increased as the image firmed. The image of himself in rubber popped unbidden into his head. Just in time he managed to prevent his ejaculation from escaping. The sensation made him gasp and he shivered as the sensations rippled through his penis. Awkwardly he struggled free of the duvet and made it to the toilet, discharging himself into the bowl.

"Damn," he muttered. "I've got to get a grip. Get a girlfriend, get my own place - I've got to sort myself out." He stumbled back to the bed. "I won't be a fucking poof. I won't."

He was still angry with himself as he dropped into sleep. It wasn't a restful one, he dreamed, and his dreams were all of being in a room full of men, his erection on display while everyone laughed at him. 

For the next week, Jeff did his best to avoid Tom until he'd shed his lycra cycling shorts and shirt, but it didn't help. In almost every unguarded moment he found himself wondering what it would be like to share his bed with another guy. The closest he could imagine was a night, as a boy, spent in a small tent, with three friends, each in their own sleeping bags, but in close body contact all the same. He'd not slept much, and been slightly ashamed of his envy of the easy way the other two joked about their 'morning glory' erections. 

His search for a flat of his own was proving complicated. For one thing he didn't have enough for the 'deposit' every agent required for the places he liked. The one's he didn't like, he could afford, but didn't want to commit to living in something — or somewhere — that he knew would make him desperately unhappy. Clutching yet another bundle of flyers for places to rent, he retired to the Black Cat, a converted pub he'd found where he could get a light meal and some decent coffee to read them.

"Hi, can I get you your usual cappuccino?" The waiter was a slim and rather attractive young man about his own age who favoured jeans so tight Jeff wondered how he actually got into them. He had to admit they showed off the wearers butt to perfection. The apron concealed his crotch, but the way it hung suggested it might be impressive.

He dragged his thoughts off the beautifully sculpted jeans, looked up and smiled. "Thanks, that would be welcome right now."

The waiter laughed. "Looking for a place to rent?"

"Yeah. So far everything I can afford I wouldn't want a dog to live in, and the places I'd like, I can't afford. I guess I'm just going to have to bite the bullet and take the best of the worst in the end."

"Wait a sec. I'll get your coffee. You're going about this the wrong way - you need to do some networking." The waiter grinned at Jeff's surprise. "I'll be right back."  

Jeff watched as the waiter strode the counter, his gaze arrested by the way the guy's jeans moulded to his perfect butt. To his embarrassment he felt his cock hardening. Tearing his eyes from the alluring figure, he tried to focus on the flyers on the table, sorting them into three piles, the affordable, the maybe affordable and the 'dream on baby' as he called the one's patently out of his price.

The waiter returned, a large cappuccino and a small plate with a muffin, on a tray. Placing these on the space cleared by Jeff, he grinned. "Before you say it, the muffin is a freebie." He glanced at the piles. "May I?"

Picking up the first, the cheapest rentals, he shuffled through them. "No. No. No - none of these. Look, these are all cheap because they're pretty grotty locations, you'd have neighbours you really don't want to meet." He dumped the flyers face down and picked up the middle pile. "Hmm, OK, this one is a possible, this one? No." He put it face down with the first pile. Of the five flyers two more joined the first. "OK, these two are both in nice locations and you could find yourself in a nice situation with them." He read the details. "This one is a converted basement. At least it has garden access. The other is an attic conversion. I think I know it. If it's the one I think, it has a nice roof terrace, but you share the entrance with everybody else."

"Thanks, that's been one of my problems, I don't know any of these areas, so I don't know what to expect when I read these flyers." He grimaced. "The one was next to a hotel that specialises in DSS or mental cases I think."

"Oh, wow, yeah. I think I know the one." He tapped the pile of top price flyers. "I'll look at these in a sec. I better go and serve that customer." 

Once again Jeff couldn't help watching the movement of those tight jeans as the waiter moved away. To distract himself, he read the descriptions on the two flyers the attractive waiter had selected. The 'garden' apartment sounded nice and the layout didn't look bad, but the kitchen and bathroom appeared to be partly under the pavement at the front of the house which had evidently once been a very grand Victorian edifice. 

The attic apartment also had its attractions, but the price was higher still. Jeff reluctantly did a mental calculation. The longer he stayed at Clive and Tom's B and B, the less he had for his deposit. At least he'd put aside the bulk of his money as a reserve, but he still had to eat something beside the terrific breakfast Clive served each morning - and he'd paid for three weeks in advance.

The waiter was back, the faint perfume of his shower gel and perhaps his own scent alerting Jeff to his return.

"Right, I was thinking. Are you stopping for a little lunch? I finish at two and don't have a class until six. If you like I could take you round these places and perhaps introduce you to someone who might be able to help."

Jeff looked up in surprise. "You would? I mean, thanks, but I don't want to take up all your free time."

The waiter shrugged. "I don't have anything else to do. Besides I'm single, so I'd just go back to my flat and play Wii or something." He grinned. "And my place is like most of those." His finger tapped the discard pile. "Penalty for being a student."

"Oh." Jeff laughed nervously. "What are you studying?"

"Art and dance. But tonight I'm modelling — it pays and every little helps."

That explained the physique, thought Jeff. "Oh. Yes, I remember the art department was always looking for models at my college." He hesitated. "I'm starting work at Magna Software in two weeks. I was hoping to have my own flat at least lined up by then, even if I can't move in straight away." He pulled a face. "Doesn't look as if I'll do it at the present rate of progress." He grimaced. "I under estimated the cost of everything I think."

The waiter smiled. "Everything in this city costs more than its really worth. But, stick around, I may know some folk who can help you." He picked up the empty cup. "I'll bring you another cappuccino and a menu."

He watched the waiter walk away, his eyes fixed on the perfectly displayed butt and the shapely denim sheathed legs. It looked as if the waiter, Paul according to is name tag, was proud of his athletic physique. He shook himself mentally. He had to get a grip. The affair with the gym coach and these sort of thoughts and attractions were why he'd had to leave his home town. He couldn't afford to get into that situation again. He had to get his mind off guys.