Works and Days

Happy Returns

4

They all sat down as everyone else rose to clap, and then Nehru Alexander took the microphone and said, “We’ll be back in a second. I see some important nearest and dearest have entered the place.”

He smiled and jumped off stage. Russell thought that this Nehru, whom he had occasionally heard of, looked like a cross between Chayne and Gilead. He was shorted and thicker than Gilead, his jeans fit well and he sported good sandals. He was loud and laughing like Chayne, and myopic like Chayne whom he threw his arms around before embracing Gilead.

“Who are these?” he pointed at Russell, then Robert and lastly Anigel.

Chayne introduced them.

“Ted.”

“The Disappearing Boyfriend?” Nehru said.

Ted frowned and Chayne said, “Yes.”

“I’m not disappearing.”

“You’re literally disappearing for two years,” Chayne said. “To join something I didn’t even know you were in.”

“Anyway—” Russell interrupted.

“Oh, you must be Russell?” Nehru said.

“My reputation precedes me?”

“It does. Robert—I don’t know you. I guess you all need hugs too. Wow, you’re beautiful!” he said with no guile, embracing Anigel.

“Jewell and Shannon I know, and I promised to buy you a drink when that baby came so I’ll make good on that.”

“You better.”

Nehru laughed loud and emoted much, two qualities which Russell usually hated, but Rusell later reflected, that was because most people laughed to cover up something and threw out personality like a tarp to hide the destruction beneath and Nehru hid nothing.

“What’s wrong with you?” Chayne said to Ted who was scowling.

“Really?”

“Really?” Chayne said. “How did you think I’d take things?”

Ted sighed and squeezed Chayne’s hand under the table.

“Can we not fight?”

“I’m not fighting.”

“Well,” Ted said, “can we enjoy the time we have?”

Chayne nodded and squeezed Ted’s hand back.

Cigarette smoke heralded a tall, gangly man who now leaned over Nehru and said, “It’s almost time to go back on stage.”

“Our public waits, Bradley?”

“It does.”

“Brad, these are my cousins, Chayne and Gil and my almost cousins, the distinguished Robert Keyes, the mysterious Anigel Reyes and the Pre Raphaelite Russell Lewis.”

“I don’t even know what that means, but I like it,” Russell said.

Anigel nodded, taking the honorific as her due.

“I don’t know how distinguished I am either.” Robert shook his head and crushed his cigarette out, laughing.

“Better to be distinguished, than extinguished.” Nehru noted.

“Too true,” this from Brad. He thrust out his large, alive hand repeating, “Brad Long, pleased to meet you.  Brad Long, pleased to meet you.”

He was unbelievably tall and pale with very black, short hair and shadowed eyes that were wide and green. He too was in jeans and tee shirt, and as he smiled warmly and rang everyone’s hands, Russell was at once overjoyed and rattled by the potential loss of an arm.

“I’ll call the waiter over,” said Nehru. “Don’t worry. It’s all free. Have pizza. Have... well, have water. It’s all we’ve got. And have breadsticks. And… Have fun. I’ll be back soon.” Nehru went up with Brad to the stage. Brad took the guitar and Nehru the microphone.

They went from rock to jazz and Russell looked up at Nehru. If Russell thought he had skill, the way Nehru stood at the microphone, his poise, the long hand that gestured and emphasized the words, the eyes that fell on one person in the crowd, then pulled away to another were teaching him something. Nehru’s voice rose and roared and Russell wished he looked like that when he sang, wished he was sure of himself when he was the brief center of attention.

Pizza came with the hot white cheese bubbling, and red sauce that hit the paper plate and burnt when it hit their chins, There was frosty cold water in old plastic bottles, used over and over, their signs nearly rubbed off.

“And garlic butter sauce!” marveled Shannon.

Sticking a breadstick in the cup, Robert knocked over the garlic butter.

“Aw, Man!”

“We’ll, just have to clean it up!” Gilead said, and stuck his breadstick in the puddle, and then Russell did the same and they laughed while Jewell shook her head, murmuring, “Oh, to be young again.”

“Whaddo you mean?” Chayne laughed, and stuck his breadstick in too.

 

When somebody loves you

it’s no good unless they love you

allll the way!

 

Russell looked at Robert staring off into nowhere, but was not brave enough to interrupt the other young man’s reverie.

It was Gilead who nudged Robert Keyes and said, “A penny for you thoughts?”

Robert just smiled a sleepy smile, shaking his head, and said, “I’m just happy right now. Everything’s so good.”

Half drunk, Rob went up the stairs to his room, watching Chayne put Russell on a sofa and place a blanket over him while Ted watched him. A little while later he heard shower water running and was so sleepy and so inebriated it wasn’t until after the shower was done that Rob realized it hadn’t been him bathing.

“Pound me,” he whispered, and Ted did and the pleasure of the bed shaking, the two of them shaking pushing back, bound together, the pleasure of being pressed by Ted’s love and desire, kissed over and over again stroked while being fucked and fucked made Chayne want to cry out.

“I’m going to… I’m going to…” Ted began.

“Do it.”

But at the same time he felt Ted’s cock swelling and jumping like a heartbeat, at the same moment he felt himself pumped with hot seed, he shuddered as his own body gave way and he knew he was coming all against his stomach, all over the bedsheets.

When he woke up, half drowsy, and heard the whir of the air conditioner, Chayne didn’t ask what time it was. None of that seemed to matter. This bed was huge, expensive and soft, and he lay on his side and Ted’s arms were about his waist. They had been covered in sweat and come and it didn’t matter. None of it did. The room smelled of sandalwood and Ted’s cologne and his musk and something else that Chayne wondered if it might not be himself. He pressed himself closer to Ted and wanted to lift him up, but Ted was only a little asleep, and instead of lifting up, went down, taking Chayne in his mouth. Chayne  didn’t know how long they lay lazy like that, Ted sucking on him, making the cock he didn’t think much about a long, hard, real thing with a geography, a central vein to lick, a helmeted head to trace with his tongue, balls, heavy to hold, to massage, to leisurely suck on. He traveled that devils road between balls and asshole, licking, tracing, lifting up thighs to lick and finger, tongue the ass and ass that still ached after Ted’s entry. Chayne lay in the dark and was serviced by his lover. Later, Ted guided him wordlessly, with hand movements and nudges and finally Chayne felt Ted’s thumb and finger massaging him, making his penis hard and curved, longer and heavier than he’d ever known it, and then Chayne was inside of him. In the darkness of the night darkened room, Ted looked up at him, eyes vague and shining, mouth open, his thighs bent to his knees while Chayne  fucked him. This time his coming begans like a flutter of butterflies from the inside and ended in a corkscrew. He wasn’t able to stop himself from shouting, and as he collapsed between Ted’s thighs, neither was Ted.

As morning light came through the curtains, Chayne sat up in bed to light a cigarette and observe the beauty of Theodore Weirbach’s naked body, watch yellow light touch his sandy hair, move over his shoulders and down his broad back to the soft hills of his buttocks. He loved him so much it made him angry, and he decided to stay angry because it was better than crying. This fool should have told him, but he was leaving. Well, to hell with him. He shot smoke from his nose and tenderly ran the back of his hand over Ted’s ass.

Half asleep, Ted said, “I’m sorry, Chayne.”

Chayne couldn’t answer. His hand stopped. He crushed out the cigarette. He was too caught up in sudden sadness to allow himself to make a sound.

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Well, folks, we've had a great journey in Geshichte Falls, but over the next two chapters (not segments) we'll be wrapping up Works and Days. See you soon.