“Our lives are defined by opportunities, even the ones we miss.”
― Eric Roth, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button Screenplay
Percy moved beneath Bryon, working his body in rhythm to their fuck, pushed his ass up as Bryon pushed cock deep into it. He clung to the sweaty body as it exerted itself. He tilted his head back and moaned and gruntd, and felt the kisses on his neck.
“Percy…fuck,” Bryon uttered breathlessly.
“Fuck me. Fuck me, Bryon. Fuck me,” exclaimed Percy.
Percy pushed upward and shuddered at the feel of his cock pinned between them. Bryon’s movements rubbed it to the point he wanted to cum again.
Bryon shifted position, hooked his legs in the elbow of each arm, and he is folded up beneath him. Cock bored into his depths and Bryon resumed their fuck, only this time it is with greater urgency. More physicality, hips smacked against his upturned ass. Percy relished the fullness of every thrust and how the bed moved in rhythm to their fuck. A hard rocking motion that made the bed squeak.
“Bryon!” Percy exclaimed.
Hot exhales on the neck. The steady piston of cock inside him. The feel of the undulating body over him. Percy is pushed to the edge. Bryon suddenly buried cock inside him and kept pushing against his ass in an attempt to sink cock deeper into it, then cried out with release. The physical nature of Bryon’s release, shuddering against him, is enough. Cum roped up his chest as his cock erupted, ejaculating wad after wad.
Then their sex was over and they laid on the bed breathing hard.
“I’ve got to go,” said Bryon, rolling off the bed and coming to his feet. He picks up his boxers then looks at Percy. “I’ve got that thing with my parents in the morning.”
“I remember,” said Percy.
“I’ll call you later. Maybe we can do that Vietnamese place you like on Wednesday. Deck something or other.”
Percy smiled, for Bryon mixed up the names of any restaurant that wasn’t Michelin rated. “Dac San.”
“Yes, that’s the place.”
“I think you’ll you enjoy it.”
“I’m sure,” said Bryon as he buttoned his shirt.
Bryon sat on the edge of the bed and put on his shoes as Percy moved up behind him, kissing the back of the neck.
“The last five weeks have been really nice,” said Percy.
Bryon turned to him, gave him a quick kiss. “They have, haven’t they. But I really must go. I’ll call you.”
“Okay,” said Percy as he watched Bryon walk out of his bedroom, then a few seconds later, leave his apartment.
Percy climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom to shower. He got the water warm then stepped into the shower. Head held under the spray; he let the water cascade over him as he thought about his arrival in the city. It had only been about three months since he arrived in the city driving a moving van with his dad following him in his eight-year-old 4Runner. It was his second job since graduating college two years ago, a job that promised a better salary and opportunity. He knew the increased salary barely gave him improvement in his income with the city having a higher cost of living, but with the promise of a review in six months and a possible salary increase, it was worth it.
He had known no one in the city, and it took him three or four weeks to get settled and his bearings. He worked out the best grocery store that was nearby, the restaurants that were enjoyable and reasonable in price, and the bars that catered to gay men. He met his neighbors in the apartment building, but none would become good friends. He socialized with a few from his new job, finding a connection with five of them, going out to see bands or just hang out at some micro-brewery or drinks after work at one of the bars or a distillery in Northend. And once he ventured to the bars, he made casual connections with a few guys and hooked up with someone that would prove to be just a one-night stand, nothing more.
Meeting Bryon had been a pleasant surprise. He had ventured to a small bar in Third Ward, a place advertised as ‘gay friendly’ and located in an area he had not explored until that night. It was in an old warehouse building, and Percy expected the typical décor of exposed masonry walls and roof structure with corrugated metal panel or painted gypsum board walls, and stained concrete floors. He had been surprised to find a place far nicer than anticipated. Slick copper panels and dark stained wood, a bar of polished marble and more copper panels, stools and furniture in leather, the stools in a blood red finish, the furniture in a dark chocolate, and floors of dark stone. The lighting was soft, low over the seating areas and just a bit more illumination over the bar with the blue glass fixtures. Music had been electronic, but low key, an ambient sound of a rhythm that reminded Percy of jazz from the sixties.
He had gotten a drink and taken one sip when someone sat next to him ordering a Manhattan with some specific rye whiskey. He had checked the man out in the mirror behind the bar. A bit older than his twenty-four, impeccably dressed with perfectly trimmed hair. Then he watched the bartender gently slide the drink across the marble bar and give the man a slight nod.
He had felt underdressed in his khaki pants and casual dress shirt and turned to look at around the room from his other side, thinking there was no way this guy would speak to him. He realized the bar was for socializing among friends with chairs and sofas arranged for groups of four, six, and eight people, and nowhere in it was anyone alone. Turning back around, he sipped his cocktail thinking as soon as he finished it, he would pay his tab and go home, or maybe he would stop at that gay bar in the Victoria neighborhood.
He took a drink and set the cocktail down and picked up his cellphone. He looked at the screen as if he could be expecting a message, then set it back down.
“Someone stand you up?”
Percy turned to the guy and shook his head. “No, I just came to check out the place and realized it is not for someone alone.”
“Why are you alone?”
“I’m new to the city, been here about two months, and it being a weeknight, didn’t think the friends I’ve made would want to venture out. Some of us are going to Durham on Friday night to a concert.”
“So, you don’t think they’d want your company two nights in one week?”
It was spoken sarcastically, and Percy knew it was justified for it sounded silly as soon as he said it. “No, it’s just…honestly, I’m not sure. I just ventured out at the last minute and didn’t bother to ask someone to tag along.”
“An adventure.”
Percy scoffed. “Some adventure. What about you? Are you wanting on someone?”
“No, I ventured out alone for I just wanted a cocktail and some time to process something from work.”
“Someone getting on your nerves?”
“More like someone sent me contract with revisions I had not agreed to and I’m weighing how to respond.”
“Sounds like a ‘fuck you’ is in order.”
The man laughed. “Yes, but I must do it with decorum.”
“That sucks,” Percy replied, smiling back.
“Yes, it does. Forgive me, I’ve not introduced myself. Bryon Wells.”
“Bryon, I’m Percy Jameson.”
“Percy; a name I’ve not heard except in literature…and poetry.”
“Dad wanted to name me Ernest, but mom overrode him.”
“Good for her. Percy is much nicer than Ernest.”
“I think so. But Bryon isn’t a popular name either.”
“No, it’s not.”
Percy finished his drink and motioned for the bartender. “Bryon, I trust you’ll enjoy your Manhattan and this time of reflection, but I think I’m going to settle up and head home.”
“Percy, it has been a pleasure to talk with you. Might I be so bold as to suggest dinner one night?”
“Really?” Percy didn’t mean to blurt it out and felt his face flush hot with embarrassment.
“You’re surprised I’m showing some interest?”
“I guess so, but…but, yes, I’d love to go out for dinner. There is a place I’ve been wanting to try but everyone I try to get to go with me push for a place that is less expensive, or less pretentious, as they put it.”
“What is it?”
“Solara.”
“Oh, I love that restaurant. I’ll get us reservations. Give me your number and I’ll text you to say what time I’ll pick you up. Would any night next week work for you; reservations can be a bit tricky.”
“I’m free all week. Just let me know what night works.”
They had gone on the following Thursday night and ended up back at his apartment. Over the next five weeks, they dated, going to restaurants, to the theater and symphony, and last weekend down to Greenville to just stroll downtown and try new restaurants and bars.
Percy came out of the bathroom towel drying his hair, wondering if he had got lucky, finding someone so quickly. Bryon could be stoic and at times humorously snobbish, acknowledging it when called out, but Bryon could also be attentive. He tried to imagine their relationship lasting a long time but that seemed too much to consider after only five weeks. He knew there could come a time when they drifted apart. He had seen it with an aunt and uncle. How after twenty-one years of marriage, just split up, saying they were no longer in love.
He pulled on clean boxers and a T-shirt, then combed his hair. After another check in the mirror, he went to the kitchen for something to drink. With water in hand, he went to the sliding doors, pulled it open and stepped out on the ridiculously small balcony. There was room for two small chairs and a round bistro table. He sat down and looked across the drive at the building opposite, seeing someone stirring around in their kitchen. Then he looked up at the dark sky and the few stars visible despite the light pollution.
“First star I see tonight,” Percy uttered, thinking of his wish.
“The only person that deserves a special place in your life is someone that never made you feel like you were an option in theirs.”
― Shannon L. Alder
Percy came around Bryon’s little convertible, a Mercedes 180 SL from the early 70s, and took the offered hand. Bryon led them up the stairs of the old Victorian house that was converted into a bar. They crossed the porch and entered the old foyer. The living room was a sitting room, the dining room a small bar.
“Come on, the main bar is upstairs,” said Bryon, pulling Percy toward the stairs.
On the second floor, they came into a large space that obviously had been two bedrooms on the front of the house. A wood beam split the space where a wall had been removed, and it visually split the bar that took up most of the room. Guys were crowded along the four sides of it, only the access point breaking the line of occupied stools and guys standing next to those seated.
“Your usual?” said Bryon.
“Yes,” Percy replied.
“Wait here and I’ll see where I can get to the bar,” said Bryon.
Percy stood at a window in the sidewall watching Bryon move around the bar and slip next to someone he knew, the two of them talking as Bryon waited on a bartender. Percy turned and looked out the window, realizing the skyline of downtown was visible if he stood to the left and leaned close to the window, looking right. He glanced toward the end of the room knowing the windows there would give the best view, which was probably why small tables sat at each one, crowded with four or five guys at each.
“So, you’re Bryon’s current boy.”
Percy turned to see an older man, dressed nicely, holding a martini glass.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re with Bryon Wells, right?”
“Yes.”
“So, has he treated you to a vacation in Bora Bora or Maldives?”
“No…we’ve only been dating five weeks.”
“Oh dear, you better hurry, your expiration date is fast approaching.”
It was stated humorously, but Percy saw no humor in it. “What do you mean, my expiration date?”
“You boys are so naïve. You get one of the old money boys to go out with you and you think—”
“What do you mean old money boys?”
The man looked at Percy with surprise. “Oh, don’t tell me you don’t know about the Wells family.”
“No, I don’t know them. I’ve not met any of Bryon’s family.”
“How long have you been living here?”
“About three months.”
“Oh dear. And you really thought…” and the man laughed as he strolled away, leaving Percy dumbfounded.
“What did that old queen want?” said Bryon as he held out a drink.
Percy took the drink and looked at Bryon with confusion. Was he just Bryon’s latest boy as the older man had stated. Was their relationship always one to have a short lifespan, then Bryon would break up with him and move on to the next young man to draw his attention.
“He warned me I have an expiration date,” Percy replied stoically, holding the drink he no longer wanted.
Bryon laughed. “That old fool. He’s just jealous.”
“Do I…have an expiration date?”
“We all have expiration dates. Nothing lasts forever. Just forget it and let’s have a pleasant evening.”
Percy froze, unable to move. He had dealt with a lot, jealous boyfriends, a guy who practically stalked him, and a guy so in the closet as to make him and everybody around him insane, but never had he been considered someone’s boy, a plaything to be discarded when no longer interesting.
“I’d like to leave,” said Percy.
“We just got here and—”
“Bryon,” said Percy, finally getting Bryon’s undivided attention. “I think we should talk.”
“Come on, Percy, don’t be like this. Forgot what he said and let’s enjoy our evening.”
“I’d like to talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Bryon began to sound frustrated, his tone blunt. It made Percy more upset.
“I’m going home,” said Percy.
“Fine. Go.”
Percy wanted to be shocked that Bryon would do it, but he saw him for the first time, wrapped up in his own self worth and how he wasn’t good enough. He stepped forward and reached between two groups of guys, set the untouched drink on the bar, then turned toward the stairs and walked away.
He wanted Bryon to rush after him, tell him he was wrong, that he didn’t think of him as just the latest conquest. At the bottom of the stairs, he realized Bryon wasn’t pursuing him. He walked over to the guy who checked identifications of those coming in.
“Excuse me, I need to get a taxi or Uber. Can you tell me who to call?”
“Yes, I got a number for a preferred taxi company.”
Percy watched the passing scenery of the city as the taxi cut through neighborhoods and around the Cedar Mill District, heading toward his neighborhood. The driver switched the station on the radio and old rock ‘n roll came on, something by a band Percy recognized but could not name.
He wanted to cry but refused to do it, not for Bryon Wells. He wasn’t going to cry over finding out he was just another boy to be played with until bored, then discarded. He wasn’t hanging around until his expiration date arrived.
“It’s the building on the right,” said Percy as the taxi driver pulled into the complex.
Bryon couldn’t believe Percy had left, and over what that old queen had said, looking across the room at Harold Beacon, the person in question. They had never gotten along, their families constantly competing for property or business ventures, and things got worse when Harold had made a move on him when he had been nineteen. He had laughed in Harold’s face embarrassing him, something that was unforgiveable for someone always worried about appearances.
He shouldn’t be surprised Harold had said something to Percy, but for Percy to take it the way he did, it didn’t make sense. No one expected anything long term, not with someone like him. But Percy had been upset, upset enough to leave. The taxi that had pulled in earlier obviously for him. Did Percy really expect the chance for something long term. A serious relationship that involved them eventually living together.
“Bryon, didn’t you arrive with someone,” said Peter, one of his old college mates from Rollins.
“Huh, oh, no, just someone I ran into coming in.”
“There’s Harold; have you said hello?” Peter laughed.
Bryon smiled, then leaned close to Peter. “Let’s not bring up that bastard anymore this evening, shall we?”
Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise, then he leaned toward Bryon, voice lowered as Bryon had done. “The bastard shall be forgotten.”
Bryon nodded, then finished his drink. “I’m going back to the bar; you need anything?”
“I’m good.”
“But the world is strange and endings are not truly endings no matter how the stars might wish it so.”
― Erin Morgenstern, The Starless Sea
Percy arrived at work the next morning, more angry than upset. The transition from one to the other had happened sometime that morning while he had his coffee. He entered the elevator to go to the fourth floor where the firm was located. There was talk of taking the third floor, but so far it was rebuffed as just rumor, but Percy knew some rumors had a grain of truth to them. He had been on the elevator two weeks ago when two of the owners got off on the third floor with someone carrying a brochure for the building. He knew they were a leasing agent, so the rumor would probably become a truth in the coming months.
“Hey, Percy, how was that new Indian place?” said Sam, one of his colleagues in the graphics department.
“It was…”
What was he going to say; the food sucked and the place should be burned to the ground. It would just be a hysterical thing to say. The restaurant had been very good, so good he hoped to go again. It was at the bar when things went to shit.
“It was good. I highly recommend it.”
“But something happened?”
“Can we let that be something for later. I’d rather not talk about it until I have had two or three cups of coffee.”
Sam smiled, shaking his head. “Sure. I can see it is something not good, but you can tell me when you’re ready.”
“Thanks Sam.”
“Do you have plans after work?”
“Probably just go home.”
“No, no, that won’t do. There’s a bad playing at Brimstone and you have to go.”
“Brimstone? I’ve not heard of it.”
“It’s this dive out on Central Avenue, been there forever, and they typically bring in all these hardcore bands, but tonight the Skids are playing.”
“I’ve heard of them.”
“You’ve got to see them play live. Plan to meet at Art-haus at six. We’ll have a drink then drive over.”
Sam slipped around to the far side of the room where his cubicle was positioned in the corner and Percy, being the newest member of the group, entered the cubicle right at the front.
Percy looked around shocked at the inside of the Brimstone. It looked like it could fall in on itself at any minute. The walls were covered in graffiti, and looking up he realized even the ceiling was covered. The bar had a wood top that didn’t have an inch not marred by someone craving their initials or some toilet humor in it. On the far wall, there was the stage, a platform not a foot high, just enough to allow most attendees to see the band. Percy looked back at Sam and smiled; he thought the place was glorious. A real dive that no way in hell would Bryon Wells be caught dead in.
He drank the cheap beer and danced in front of the stage. And he let himself forget.
Percy sat on his balcony sipping the hot black coffee he had made that morning. He saw someone walking their dog, then a couple of vehicles heading out of the parking lot. It was a slow Saturday morning, and he was wondering what he would do later. It had been three weeks since he left Bryon at the bar. There had been a brief phone call the following Sunday afternoon, Bryon trying to pretend it was just a little tiff, something they could move past and pick up where they left off. Percy thought the phone call angered him more than finding out how Bryon viewed him.
Bryon, let’s just say it has been fun and move on.
Bryon had started to protest, but in the end just said fine, and hung up.
“Fucking asshole,” Percy uttered, knowing he was exaggerating the situation. After a few days, he realized the signs were there. Bryon never invited him to his home, or introduced him to any of his family, just a few friends when they went to dinner as a group. Bryon rarely spent the night with him, always having some important engagement the next morning. Finally, there had never been one instance where Bryon showed any real affection or suggested their dating could become a serious relationship.
Percy knew his tendency to take each guy he dated seriously, as if they could be the one, made him naïve when faced with someone like Bryon. He wanted to say gullible but hated the idea he had been such. Maybe too obliging, but not gullible. What he feared the most was losing his ability to trust someone. Would the next guy he dated be held at arm’s length; he hoped not.
His cellphone beeped with a text message.
Cairo’s at six for drinks. Dinner afterward at Sabroso.
It was from Henry; someone he had met through Sam at work. They had gone out to dinner as a group a couple of times in the last two weeks and he enjoyed their company. The only problem was Cairo’s was the bar Bryon had taken him to and found out he had an expiration date. He started to text back he would skip the bar but felt foolish for it. He typed Okay and hit send. So, what if he ran into Bryon Wells. It will no doubt happen sooner or later.
The bar was crowded and Percy made his way through it to the opposite side of the bar where Henry and Sam were seated, and another guy was standing between them. At the end of bar, he had to squeeze past Harold ignoring his glare. He made his way to the guys coming up next to Sam.
“Hey guys, sorry I’m late. It was tough finding a place to park,” said Percy.
“Percy, this is Luke. He and Henry are old friends.”
Nice to meet you.”
“Sam says you work at his firm,” said Luke.
“That’s correct. And what do you do?”
“He digs in the dirt,” said Henry, giving Luke a grin.
“Huh?” Percy replied.
“I have a small landscape company,” said Luke.
“Oh, that’s great.”
“I enjoy it.”
“So, Percy, what will you have?” said Henry as he motioned for a bartender.
Percy went downstairs looking for the restroom, finding it behind the bar. The others were paying their tabs then coming down so they could head to the restaurant. As he stood staring at the wall relieving himself, he considered Luke, finding him attractive, but he also saw the love triangle that needed to be ironed out. Henry had eyes for Sam and Sam had eyes for Luke, and Luke had eyes that wandered around the bar either looking for someone or just scoping out what was available. He smirked to think of it, shaking his head as he shook his cock then tucked it back into his jeans.
Why does it have to be so complicated, he wondered as he washed his hands. He grabbed a paper towel, dried his hands, then headed out. As he stepped out of the restroom, he nearly collided with someone.
“OH, I’m sorry,” said Percy, stepping back.
“It’s okay; I wasn’t paying attention,” said the guy.
Percy recognized him as someone who was on the opposite side of the bar. He had seen him looking across assuming there was some recognition of one of the guys. He couldn’t help it; being so close, he sized him up. Tall, over six feet with a lean lanky build, wavy black hair, grey eyes, and boyishly handsome.
“You’re with Luke and his friends,” the guy said before Percy could make his way past.
“Yes. Are you interested in Luke? If so, you should—”
“No, I just know Luke. We went out a few months ago and…well…I was wondering if you were with him.”
“Me? With Luke?” Percy replied, smiling back at the guy. “No, I’m single.”
“Good…I mean…I’m Dean. Dean McKinley.”
“Percy Jameson.”
“Percy, like Percy Shelley.”
“No, I doubt my mother was thinking of him when she picked the name,” Percy replied.
“I was wondering…would you like to go to dinner sometime?”
“I…why yes, I’d love to go to dinner,” said Percy. He was shocked, but also pleasantly surprised, and he could not say no.
“Great. Let me hit the bathroom, then we can trade phone numbers.”
Percy came to the front as Dean went up the stairs to join his friends. Sam, Henry, and Luke were waiting on the front porch, and he slipped past two guys coming in and stepped out to join them.
“What took so long?” said Sam. “I was afraid you fell in or something.”
“You’re not going to believe this, but I got asked out by someone when I came out of the restroom.”
“Seriously?” said Henry.
“Good; it’s time you move on from that asshole,” said Sam.
“Who was it?” said Henry.
“Dean McKinley; do you know him?”
“I do,” said Luke. “We went out a couple of times. Nice guy. He’s a veterinarian at Cedar Mill Vet.”
“A vet,” said Percy.
“And a nice guy,” said Luke, emphasizing it. “He’s just a bit too laid back for me. So, let’s go, I’m starving.”
“Sounds perfect,” uttered Percy to himself as he followed the others down the steps.
“Four things do not come back: the spoken word, the sped arrow, the past life, and the neglected opportunity.”
― Ted Chiang, The Merchant and the Alchemist's Gate
Bryon looked over Stephen’s shoulder again, incredulous of what was happening across the dining room. Christopher Percy Jameson was on a date. He couldn’t believe it, or more accurately, didn’t want to. He expected Percy to be sitting at home sad from breaking up with him, not letting their relationship reach its normal conclusion. Yes, he would have ended it in a few weeks, never letting one get too serious. He had to protect himself, for all of them sooner or later wanted his money. He was just a means to an end.
Across the room, Bryon saw Percy laugh, and he fumed. No one had ever broken up with him. He ended relationships when it was time; when they grew bored with each other or were falling into some mundane routine.
“Bryon. Bryon!” said Stephen.
“Yes, Stephen.”
“I was asking if you thought that North Woods development was worth investing.”
“No, I think the market is saturated and they will have a hard time leasing it.”
“See, I told you,” said Stephen, looking over at Peter.
“I think it’ll do better than you think. The market around it is building up and the medium income is over one hundred thousand,” said Peter.
“Sheesh, what’s a hundred thousand dollars in this day and age,” said Stephen. He turned to see Bryon looking past him again. “Bryon, stop staring. Since when did a past fling matter to you. So, what, if he broke up with you.”
“But...he’s having fun.”
“Then you need to do the same,” said Peter.
Bryon realized he felt regret. He felt a sense of loss; an opportunity he let slip through his fingers. He had only felt something similar at a deal he had missed out on, and yet, this hurt more. He had never missed someone after breaking up with them. Did he feel this way because Percy broke up with him. He didn’t want to believe he was that vain.
“…Stephen, you need to shift liquid assets into something…”
Bryon wasn’t paying attention to Peter and Stephen, didn’t care about their investment recommendations. He saw Percy and his date stand, then stroll across the dining room heading toward the entry. Percy never looked his way, not once, and he felt regret. Was it because Percy hadn’t known about his wealth until that night and then didn’t seem to care. It was only the notion he was using him and would soon tire of him. It was true, for he had never really trusted someone. Everyone was out to get something from someone else. Percy had to be the same. Didn’t he? The question haunted him for if not, it meant Percy had been an honest person, a good person, someone who could be trusted. Someone who could be loved without being hurt in return.
Percy could have been someone he developed a relationship as he once imagined. When had he lost faith in having a lasting relationship. Was it in college when that junior, Chad Bessenger, two years older, said all the right things. Showed him what it was like to have sex with a man, not fumble around with another boy his own age. Chad had made him feel important not due to his wealth, but for the person he had been, only to hurt him once he got the new car and a closet full of clothes. Or was it when it came out about his father’s affairs and how his mother stayed with him, because it was best for the businesses. They slept in separate rooms ever since.
He was his father’s son and didn’t know if he could love someone. To truly love someone required trust he didn’t know if he could give. Watching Percy leave the restaurant, he wondered if Percy hadn’t been good enough for him, would there ever be one.
Bryon slowly spun his wine glass as he pictured Percy’s date, a guy who looked close to Percy’s age, with a tall lean build and dark hair that showed the guy needed a better barber for it was too unruly, too boyish in appearance. It would never do in the world of business. They looked like immature boys, he thought satisfactorily, creating another excuse for their breakup.
The idea would settle in his mind, become something real. A truth to tell himself, instead of the real truth, the reason Percy was with someone else and not him.
“What happens when people open their hearts?"
"They get better.”
― Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood
Percy followed Dean into his home, a small ranch house in an established neighborhood. The house was modest, with white walls holding large black and white photographs or original artwork. The furniture was mid-century modern, simple pieces that gave the living and dining areas a comfortable inviting feeling.
“Your home is nice.”
“Thanks, but credit goes to my sister and brother. Sara is an interior designer and helped me with furniture and Zachary is a struggling artist who did the photographs and that painting over the dining table.”
“Well, the place looks great. It makes my apartment look sad,” Percy joked, and worried Dean would think so when he saw it.
“You’ve been in the city, what, four months, so I think living in an apartment and not fully settled in is nothing to be worried about.”
“Dinner was nice,” said Percy, changing the topic.
“I love that place, but I don’t get to go often.”
“You make it sound like you don’t have a life.”
“I get so busy at the clinic and being one of the junior doctors on staff, I end up with the Saturday shift and on call more often than the others.
“But you enjoy the work.”
“Love it,” said Dean. “Do you want something to drink? I’ve got wine, beer, and water.”
“Water would be good.”
“How do you like the city so far?” said Dean as he walked into the kitchen around the corner from the living room, visible only to the dining area.
“It’s good. Still learning the ropes and trying to figure out where things are in town.”
“This place is not easy to learn. GPS is a life saver, even for those us from here.”
On the sofa, sitting next to each other, Percy felt nervous, like some kid on his first date, and it made him start to giggle.
“What’s so funny?” said Dean.
“I’m nervous,” Percy exclaimed. “Oh, shit, I should not have admitted that.”
It made the two of them laugh together, then Dean turned to Percy, held him by the chin and kissed him. “There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Dean whispered, then kissed Percy with more passion.
Percy sat back then let Dean guide him to lay on the sofa, head propped on the arm. Hands moved over him. Lips pressed against his own, then along his jaw and down the neck. As his shirt was unbuttoned, the lips touched him below the neck, across the chest until closed over the right nipple. The tongue flicked across it and a hand slipped down inside his jeans, fingers raking through his public hair, then touching him.
“Dean,” Percy uttered in a whisper as he pushed upward against the hand.
The lips moved back up the neck until grazing the right ear. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”
When Percy came to his feet, he realized Dean had got his jeans undone and he had to hold them up because he wasn’t going to bother fastening them back in place. He knew he would be getting out of them as soon as he got to Dean’s bedroom.
Dean led him down a short hall, past one bedroom and into the next on the front of the house. Dean stood by the bed and he came to him, slipping the shirt from his shoulders, then worked jeans and boxers off. He stood naked before Dean wondering how he was viewed. He was five ten and one hundred sixty-seven pounds. He saw the eyes scan him as Dean dropped his shirt to the floor. He watched the jeans worked down the long legs, then the boxers. Dean stood tall with a lean smooth body and skin that looked as if the sun had never touched it. The black pubic hair framed a cock flexing with arousal.
Dean held out a hand, and he took it to be led down on the bed. They lay next to each other and kissed, then smiled at each other as they touched, fingers grazing over smooth skin, then down to the cocks. Percy moaned when fingers tugged on his cock then toyed with it making him grow erect.
Percy felt his aroused state. He felt Dean’s within his hand, and he rolled to his back tugging Dean to move on top of him. He spread his legs, knees up, nestling the long lean body between them. Cocks rubbed as Dean moved on top of him, hips undulating as lips touched his neck, tugged on his earlobe, then moved along the jaw until they were kissing.
“Fuck me,” whispered Percy as he moved beneath Dean. He pushed upward, increasing the rub of cocks, he tilted his head back letting Dean kiss down his neck, and he raised his legs so Dean could hook arms behind each knee.
Cock touched him, rubbed over his tight opening, then pressed against it. He clutched the bed and pushed his ass upward increasing the pressure. Dean kissed him, a kiss more physical than any before, then penetrated his ass.
Percy moaned. He uttered soft pleadings. He moved with Dean, working his body to take the cock. Dean pushed into his depths with the hips pumping thick hard cock.
“Dean. Fuck me,” Percy exclaimed.
Dean shifted position, came to his knees, held Percy’s legs at the knees and folded him in half. With ass upturned, Dean buried his cock in it and fucked.
“Harder. Fuck me harder,” Percy uttered breathlessly.
Dean bore his weight down on the legs, pinning them to the chest, and fucked harder. He fucked until sweating and hips smacked the upturned ass.
Percy took it, every thrust, and he begged for more.
Dean pulled out, got Percy on his hands and knees and sank cock back into the ass. He fucked with long full strokes, then he leaned over Percy, hugged their bodies together as he ground hips against ass; cock deep inside it.
Percy felt the heat of Dean’s body, how it slid over his back while fucking his ass. He felt the hot exhales on his neck and heard the breathless utterances. Hands moved up his chest, then down until one hand took his cock, stroking it in rhythm with their fuck. They moved in unison, bodies undulating, rubbing and touching and fucking.
Dean came to his knees, pulling Percy to his. Percy leaned back until against the sweaty chest and Dean wrapped an arm around his neck holding him in place while pumping cock into his depths. Percy began to rock forward at the hips as Dean fucked harder. His cock flopped around until he couldn’t endure it and he took it in hand, stroking as best he could as Dean rocked him with their fuck.
It seemed to go on forever. Nothing existed but this fuck. This connection between them. But all too soon, Percy felt the need for release. The desperate unrelenting need. He shoved back on Dean’s cock then shoved forward, thrusting his cock through his fist. He cried out and shuddered as cum exploded from his cock, thick wad after thick wad raining down on the bed. As his ass spasm around Dean’s cock, it shoved into his depths, swelled thick, and pumped a load of cum into him.
Percy was surprised to find himself pulled to move on top of Dean. The legs came up and he held them to his chest and when he shifted closer to the ass, they rubbed is chest increasing his arousal. He kissed the left foot, the ankle, then slapped his cock across the ass.
“Come on Percy, put it in me,” uttered Dean.
He put his cock to the tight opening and shivered from the squeeze of the head of his cock. He pushed slowly, gently, through the tightness until the head and an inch of the shaft were inside him. He held still, looking up along the body. The nuts now loose in their sac, the cock still hard, hovering over the abdomen, The flat stomach and lean chest with just the smallest definition. The long neck. The face staring back, light grey eyes shining in the dim light.
“Fuck me, Percy. Fuck me,” said Dean in a low voice, one that didn’t disrupt their space, didn’t surprise Percy, instead it urged him to do it. To push into the ass and fuck.
Percy held the legs to his chest and pushed over half his cock into the ass, then he tugged outward until nearly slipping free, and he kept moving, slowly increasing his pace until moving steadily, pumping cock into Dean’s depths. He fucked until burning up, body sweating with his exertions, then he slipped down next to Dean, twisting the torso and pushing the legs to one side. He entered him again, working his hips as he hugged their bodies together.
Dean stretched out next to him, the long torso moving against his fuck, ass pushing against his hips. The bed rocked beneath them, an exhortation to keep fucking, not to slow, and he kept fucking as he watched Dean take his own cock in hand and stroked it while working the ass against his thrust forward.
“Damn…Percy…I’m going to cum,” exclaimed Dean.
As Percy pumped cock into the ass, Dean began to shudder and jerk. Cum arched out of the cock raining down on Dean and Percy didn’t slow, kept fucking the ass as Dean pumped out his load. Just before Dean was spent, he thrust hard into the ass and shuddered with his own release.
“Fuck,” Percy uttered as he fell still, cock buried in Dean’s ass.
Dean didn’t ask Percy to leave, instead he rolled him to his back, pinned him down, and jokingly told him he had to stay.
“If you demand it,” Percy replied, giggling.
It had been a long time since Percy slept with a man, and he snuggled up next to Dean feeling the heat of the body and the soft undulation of the breathing. He realized how much he missed it, this silence late at night next to someone. It was comforting. It would give him pleasant dreams and restful sleep. Dean shifted, mumbled something unintelligible and it pleased him, making this moment more real. He settled against the long body, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
“Because in real life, unlike in history books, stories come to us not in their entirety but in bits and pieces, broken segments and partial echoes, a full sentence here, a fragment there, a clue hidden in between. In life, unlike in books, we have to weave our stories out of threads as fine as the gossamer veins that run through a butterfly's wings.”
― Elif Shafak, The Island of Missing Trees
The days became weeks, weeks became months, and Percy no longer gave Bryon any thought. He was settled into his new job, and his yearly review was coming up. His manager told him not to worry and had become less formal with him. Then there was Dean.
A few days could pass before they could get together but each time was like the first. After dinner out or one prepared by Dean, there was the sex. Passionate. Physical. Intimate. Over time, they spent more nights at Dean’s house than his apartment. Initially Percy would have to rush home early the next morning to get ready for work, but at some point, Dean had him bring an overnight bag, letting him sleep in and the two of them have breakfast together.
Percy thought weekends would be tough with Dean working most Saturdays, but with Dean’s encouragement, he used the time to hang out with friends, some of whom he came to know through Dean. They had lunch at some new restaurant, went on day hikes in one of the nearby parks, and rode bicycles around the city, something Percy found as a means to learn the streets.
One Saturday morning, Percy woke to find Dean propped on one elbow watching him.
“What are you doing?” Percy uttered, stretching his arms out.
“Waiting on you to wake up.”
“Why?” said Percy sitting up, then he looked at Dean. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the clinic?”
“Nope. I switched with Rachel. She needs next weekend off, so she is working for me today.”
“So, we have all day together.”
“Yep, so get up and get dressed.”
“Why?”
“We have something to do.”
Dean pulled into the small Rivian dealership and Percy looked over wondering if Dean was really going to trade his old Jeep.
“I’ve been saving for this since I started working,” said Dean.
“You’re going to trade the Jeep?”
“It’s old and starting to give me trouble. And I hate having to fuel up all the time.”
“If you buy this, you won’t have to do that again.”
“Nope.”
“Which model do you want?”
“The truck but I can’t decide which color. That’s why you’re going to help me.”
“Me? It’ll be your truck. What color do you prefer?”
“Anything as long as it is not white, black, or grey.”
“That narrows it down,” said Percy sarcastically.
“That is why I want your opinion.”
When Dean led Percy back to his old Jeep, they climbed in and smiled at each other.
“Well, you did it,” said Percy.
“Yep.”
“Red Canyon,” said Percy, referencing the color chosen.
“I just have to wait for it to arrive.”
“Oh, the anticipation of a new ride,” joked Percy.
“It’s late and I’m starving. Let’s go to Monterrey’s for Mexican.”
“Sounds good.”
Their hunger sated, Dean led Percy back into his home straight to the bedroom. There was another desire that needed to be sated. They stripped playfully, then hugged and kissed. Dean pushed Percy on the bed and climbed over his waist.
Dean moved his ass over Percy’s cock, rubbing it until it responded, hardening to its full length. He leaned forward, hands on Percy’s chest and rubbed his own cock along the abdomen. Percy took his own cock in hand, smacked Dean on the ass with it, and when Dean rose on knees, he held it up.
“Percy,” Dean uttered as he rocked his ass back and forth over the cock.
It made Percy shiver then push upward.
“Yeah, you want this ass,” said Dean.
Dean centered his ass on the cock and eased down.
Percy shuddered at the feel of it squeezing over the head of his cock then down the shaft. He watched his cock disappear inside Dean until less than half was visible. He squeezed Dean’s thighs and fought the urge to push upward.
Dean began to move, to work his ass up and down Percy’s cock until in a fuck, a physical, bed rocking fuck. He moved on Percy’s cock until his body glistened with sweat and his breathing labored. He fucked his ass on the cock until his own became wet with precum and slapped down on Percy’s abdomen with each descent.
“Fuck…Percy…I’m going to cum.”
Cum rained down on Percy as Dean stroked cock through its release. Then he rolled Dean to his back, hooked the long legs at the elbow of each arm, and buried his cock back into the ass and fucked. He was aroused to the point he couldn’t hold back. He fucked until shuddering with his own release.
Percy lay next to Dean. Naked and satisfied. They softly touched each other, grazed fingers over cooling skin or through smears of cum. Percy looked into the grey eyes and let himself say it.
“I love you.”
Dean smiled, then sat up and kissed him. “I love you.”
They smiled, kissed again, then lay back on the bed.
“So, this means we’re serious?” said Dean with a humorous tone.
“I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Yes, yes, I’m serious. Are you?”
“Definitely.”
After a minute of just giggling and touching playfully, Dean sat up, head propped on one elbow. “When is your lease up?”
“What?”
“When is your lease up?”
“In five, no, four months.”
“Four months…that long. Don’t renew it. Move in with me.”
“What?”
“Okay, I’m rushing things. We have three months before you need to decide but think about it. Between now and then I think we’ll feel closer than we are today.”
“Wow, you’re really serious.”
“Of course, I am. I think we all deserve to have a nice life. A home and someone to share it with.”
“Yes,” Percy whispered to himself as he grazed the neck than along the jaw until he was rubbing the lips. “You make me so happy.”
“Something broke in him that day. For the first time, he could see that his whole life added up to absolutely nothing.”
― Donald Ray Pollock, The Devil All the Time
Byron entered the grocery store, picked up a small basket for he only needed a few things from the produce department. He strolled past a mother getting her young child settled on the seat of the shopping cart and into the display area. He moved to the onions, picking up a couple yellow onions. Stepping over, he looked at the potatoes but decided to stick to rice and turned to go to the tomatoes.
Two guys moved through the section with fruit on display. He saw one of them pick up an apple and hold it up to the other, who was blocked from view. It was a quaint scene, one that made him feel jealous. Then he realized he recognized the one holding the apple, and when the guy stepped toward the black grapes, he saw Percy was the other one.
He watched Percy smile, and say something, then he watched them move away, heading toward the first aisle. Percy looked happy, and he smiled, knowing Percy deserved it. He looked around seeing a few other couples and it made him feel alone, despite currently dating someone.
Seth was twenty-three, young and naïve, and Byron knew someone he would break up with in the near future. Seth just wasn’t serious, like to live in the moment, something perfect for Byron in the past, but as he saw Percy and his boyfriend disappear in the aisle, he knew the fallacy of this life he pretended to want, one with no commitment, just live for the day.
He headed toward the checkout, waiting to leave as soon as possible, because seeing Percy reminded him of so much, he had come to understand about himself.
As he waited in line, he wondered if he should end it with Seth and reconsider the advances of Aaron, the residential contractor who wore scuffed boots, worn jeans, and a baseball cap. Aaron was everything he avoided in a man, thus he might be perfect. Then again, Aaron may turn out to be like Percy and see through all of his stoicism and old money and dump him.
“What if that is enough, for now? What if we're both trying to answer something much too big before we've answered the small thing we should have started with? What if it's enough to just be...Us.”
― Becky Chambers, A Prayer for the Crown-Shy
Percy entered the bedroom to find Dean hanging his clothes in the closet. He set the box of toiletries on the bed and watched Dean.
Dean sensed him, turned with a shirt on a hanger in hand. “What is it?”
“I was just wondering if you were going to get everything in that closet.”
“I did a purge of my things, removing shirts I no longer wear, so we’ll be fine.”
“What time did you tell the guys to come over?”
“I told them six, knowing it’ll be six thirty before any of them show up.”
“When we finish in here, we should go prep the steaks for grilling.”
“I already did it when you ran back to the apartment to check it one more time.”
Percy nodded, then opened the box to empty it.
“Are you still sure this is a good idea; me moving in with you?”
“Too late now!” Dean exclaimed and he laughed. “You gave up the apartment and now I have you.”
Percy smirked, shaking his head, then he smiled. “Yep, you’re struck with me now.”
“You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone's soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows that they might do because of it, because of your words. That is your role, your gift.”
― Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus
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