The Secret Apartment

George felt the cold wind rushing down the street on Greenwich Village. He could never tell why but that wind always seemed colder down there. He pulled his coat closer to his neck and knocked on the door for the second time. He sighed, impatient, looking over his shoulders. It seemed as if he had traveled far but it was still the same town, just some neighborhoods down from his penthouse in the Upper East Side. The people there did seem from another land.

“It was about time!”

“Hello, George.” The man on the other side of the opened door was his dear friend Cary Parker. He had opened his arms for a hug. He was a hug-type of person. And despite not being one of that type, George L. Platt stepped in and let himself feel the warmth of his friend's arms. A tight, bear hug. That was what Fred called Cary's hugs.

George sighed. “Shouldn't we close this door?”

“Oh, you are not up on your neighborhood, my dear friend. No one cares.”

“I care.” He got away from those welcoming arms and closed the door himself. Inside was a bit warmer, thankfully. And without the wind to invade the small entrances of his coat, he felt a bit better.

“You gained some weight.” Cary was already climbing the stairs. The building they walked in was an old one. Cary had bought that little apartment when William's father started to get bothered by his son's friends' presence in their apartment. They had to move. And they needed more privacy. There was now too much at stake. They weren't kids anymore. They would be harshly judged in case their secret was made public.

“You always say that. And yet-”

“Yet, you look as charming as ever. Maybe even better, Georgie. I prefer your face like that.” Cary turned with a cheeky smile, leaning against the wooden handrail. They had reached the second floor and George shushed him.

“Can't we wait to get there?”

“We can, George.” Cary shrugged and continued his way up until he stopped by the entrance of the apartment. “Welcome in, Sir.” He teased, stepping to the side and leaving the way free.

George stepped into the apartment and took off his coat. He put it on the side as Cary entered and closed the door behind them. The place smelled good. George assumed Cary had been preparing something. He always did. He liked to cook and he used his talents to impress his good friends. The apartment was already warm too, thank goodness. George walked deeper into it, looking around.

“No one is here.”

“You are the only one punctual. You should know that by now.” Cary entered the living room. The wine-red curtains were opened, showing the street outside. George hesitated a bit before entering. He never liked to be so open like this, but he knew he was being too much now. Maybe old age was making a cautious man of him.

He sat in one of the chairs, opening one of the buttons of his suit. It was growing tight around the belly that insisted to grow little by little there. It was still small, but his clothes were tighter. It reminded him he needed to go and buy some more suits.

“Did Elaine complain again about you coming?”

George listened to the sound of the first drink being served. Friday night, a drink with friends. Whenever he met these friends, it was more than just one drink. Elaine had already known that their Saturday would be inside, healing his head of a bad hangover.

“She was a good girl tonight.”

A buzz filled the old room and the two men looked at the door.

“I need to go down. Only open with the keys nowadays.” Cary let the glass on George's hand and left him alone there.

Wine. Red and strong. Cary didn't like whiskey at all, so it was wine all night. Sometimes liquor, if they were lucky. Alone there, George let his eyes cross the room. It was a simple room. Cary had bought it but didn't live in it. At least, not most of the time. His apartment on 42nd Street was where he stayed and slept and lived his more publicly life. There was a secret. Their secret. But they managed to put some money in and comforts that were rather encouraging. All of them had keys also. To use it when they needed it. George never did. Not outside their meetings anyway. But he had heard from them all tales of all sorts of natures.

He drank a bit more of his wine when he listened to the voices coming up. He knew immediately that it was Mitch who was coming up. He raised, closing the button of his jacket. Looking down, he felt odd. He knew Mitch would notice how tight the jacket looked. He unbuttoned it and tried to look casual. Just in time for a man with a black beard walk in.

“What happened to your face?”

Mitch's laugh was loud. It filled the room as he walked towards George with open arms and white teeth showing. Perfect white teeth. He embraced George and gave him two kisses, one at each cheek.

“You look charming, my dear Georgie.”

George rolled his eyes but the corner of his lips turned into a little smile. If someone managed to melt him, that one was Mitch. Always. Damn. Always. George sniffed the perfume and he felt warm inside. Warmer than drinking that good wine. He felt also in his pants. He breathed in deep and made a sound with his tongue.

“You look like a homeless person.”

“You say that now. But I kept it for you, you know?” He stepped back, patting George's jacket, taking a look at him from head to toes. Unlike George, Mitch was rather casual. Beige trousers, green sweater. He looked damn fine. “I promise you, you'll be begging for me to come back with it next time.”

“Can you two control yourselves a bit more? It's not even seven yet.” Cary came between them with another glass of wine. Mitch took it and raised up.

“To us.”

The glasses clicked on each other and they sat down again. George felt Mitch's eyes on him, but he tried not to stare back. Mitch knew he could do it to him, but George was good at gaining some self-control. A year ago he had married. He was a married serious man now. At least, that's what he told himself again and again. His time to stare at Mitch with longing eyes were gone. But when his guard was down, he looked back at the other. And he lost track of thought just staring into his eyes.

“So how is dear Elaine? Did she like the souvenir I sent her? I bet she did.” Mitch's glass was already half empty. He had always been thirsty.

George sat straight on the chair. He could feel Cary's eyes on him. It wasn't a secret that he and Mitch had been lovers for a while. The more intimate kind. It was probably how it all begun. Him, with loving, longing eyes. Mitch with a head full of ideas. In a way, all that was the child of their relationship. Something both of them fought very hard to keep and protect.

“She liked it. She is waiting for you to confirm that invitation. She has a lovely friend to introduce to you.”

“Oh, does she?” His devilish smile made George tremble. He drank more wine. He was thirsty now.

Cary chuckled from his position.

“Will dear Elaine manage to tame this beast?”

Mitch's smile was on Cary now and it felt as if the sun had chosen to shine somewhere else. George drank more wine. His glass was suddenly empty.

“By the way, boys. I forgot to tell you this before.” Cary got up from his place and sat by George's side, right on the armchair. “William is bringing someone. He didn't tell me much, but he said George know the guy. And what a guy.”

George looked at him, cocking his eyebrows.

“A Yale student maybe?” Cary continued, sipping a bit of his wine and shrugging. “He said it would be a surprise. And he said it was time to bring someone new.”

“Does he mean a prostitute?” Mitch was clearly excited now, leaning on the tip of the seat, watching his friends. “We haven't had one since before last year's Christmas. I mean, we used to have more fun.”

“I don't think it's the case.” Cary laughed it off. “Even though coming from William, it wouldn't be such a shock.”

“Elaine told me William was seeing a girl.” He got the other two attention but he chose to stare back at Mitch, a smirk playing on his own lips now. “A pretty little thing. But too shy to keep William in check.”

Mitch burst out laughing.

“Oh, that I want to see. But is Elaine sure? She is always trying to find girls for all of us.”

“I don't know. I swear. She just said it was like that.”

The buzzing sound of the bell rang all over the room. Cary jumped up immediately. “Must be him.” He opened the big windows and looked down. When he closed it over again, he was smiling. “Speaking of the devil.” He got out of the room, yelling to them that they could serve themselves if they wanted.

George's eyes fell back on Mitch, who stared at him intentively.

“What?” George got up, avoiding those eyes, walking to the table with the drinks, and checking all that his friend had to offer. He picked the opened bottle of wine, breathing in deep. He was startled when he felt Mitch standing next to him. His presence só warm that George felt sweaty.

“Did you miss me, Georgie? Tell me you did.” Mitch's hand caressed George's arm. His eyes followed the movement of his own hand before they stared at George's face. George's heartbeat fast on his chest. Loud.

The words tumbled from his mind to his tongue. They hung there in the tip of it until George clenched his jaw, keeping them there. He rolled his eyes and poured wine on his glass. A bit too much, more than enough for sure. He put the bottle down and was about to walk away when he felt the grip on his arm.

“You did miss me, right?”

Damn him. George felt the warmth coming up from under his shirt. His mouth was dry. And his damn cock was hard as a rock. For a brief moment, he wondered if Elaine would ever make it happen like that: words, just words. And a simple, tight grip.

“I wish you had been there with me.” Mitch came closer. So close that George felt his warm breath over his mouth and nose. He breathes in. Mint, wine, and something more. A promise. Mitch's breath. His heart skipped a beat. “Every night, every men...”

George closed his eyes and prepared for impact. His fingers held the glass of wine as if he was holding a floater in the middle of a deep ocean. They were so close, so so close. Another kiss, for old times. George wet his lips.

But voices came into the apartment and Mitch moved away. When George opened his eyes again, William stood by the door. His suit jacket on one arm, his tie undone. And by his side a young man that towered over him and Cary.

“Stuart Avery. What are you doing here, son?”

“I told you he would be here, didn't I, Stu?” William tapped the young man on his shoulder. He was massive. As tall as Mitch. And as handsome too. And young. Young as they were when all of this was just beginning.

Stuart was the son of another lawyer in town. A very dear friend of both William and George, who welcomed the two young men into the legal community of the city. Stuart had black hair and deep black eyes. His jaw was thin and firm as the muscles under the shirt he wore. He smiled and shook Mitch's hand as George stared at them, dumb.

Stuart was looking at him now. His black eyes staring deep into his own. George felt hot all over again, but not because of Mitch now. He tried to smile, but he could hardly. Stuart was like the perfect life he kept outside, now crawling in through the sides.

"Sir. I am very happy to meet you here.“ He walked towards George with a hand ready to shake his own. George shook it, nodding at the nice words.

"It's nice to see you here too, son.“ They let go, but Stuart was still staring at him as if waiting for something. Longing for something. „Excuse me a moment.“

George let Stuart and walked towards William. He was telling Cary something but George interrupted them, pulling William out of the room with him, away from the door, away from Stuart. With the corner of his eye, he noticed Mitch approaching the young man. Wine in another glass for him.

"Are you insane, William?“ He finally growled, pushing his friend into another room, where an enormous bed awaited the adventures of the night.

"What are you talking about, Georgie?“

"You brought an Avery in. An Avery. What were you thinking in this little head of yours?“ He let go of William's arm, trying to control his voice, to not start screaming at his bud. "He is the son of our partner. Did you think about that?“

"Of course I did, Georgie. Now, now. It isn't my fault. Hear me out.“ He raised his hands in the air, almost as if that would prove his innocence at this point. William had a smirk on his lips. It was always there, to be honest. His friend was always the one to make a joke about everything. "Remember that dinner two weeks ago? Well, young Stuart stared at you with big puppy eyes. Something you didn't notice or pretended not to. But I couldn't let go. I joked with him after, when we were drinking in the living room. He got red like a maid. You should have seemed it. I promised not to tell and he told me how much he is attracted to you. Professionally you see?“

William took George's glass from his hand and sipped at the strong one. "Oh, good one this.“

"He's not even 18.“

"Uh, of course, he is, Georgie. Twenty. Going twenty-one. I checked it all, of course. What? Do you take me for a fool?“

"I do.“

"Tsk. You should know better, Georgie. Thing is... I'm doing you a favor. The lad daydreams about you. He told me. We went out for drinking and he told me all. And I told him some.“ He gave back the glass to George. „I hope you don't mind though. I asked him for a kiss. Just to try it.“ He patted George's shoulder on his way out of the room.

Standing alone there, he drank from the glass. It was over too soon. A year ago he would have laughed it off. He would have enjoyed the new company as much as the others. But it all changed with Elaine. George had fought too hard for the life he had now. Elaine, his house, the pride his parents felt towards him. All of it. William couldn't understand. He took it all too lightly. Any danger was a real danger. George left the room when he heard them all laughing in the living room. He opened a big smile, the best one he managed to wear, to come in, to talk to them, to laugh with them. Standing by Stuart's side, Mitch held his arm, telling him the rest of some raunchy joke.

"What are they telling you, son? I hope nothing too dirty?“ George went for another drink. The first bottle of wine ended in his hand. Cary was quick to come and open another.

"He is a pretty little thing, hm?“

They both looked over at the other three men. Stuart in the middle, his cheeks red. George couldn't say if from shyness or from wine.

"Twenty? Oh, boy. When I was twenty I was as skinny as a match.“ Mitch said out loud, pressing his fingers over the boy's muscles.

"Show him.“ William encouraged.

Stuart lifted his arm and flexed his muscles. Mitch whistled at that, feeling them up with not an inch of shame. George felt his cock moving again. As if sensing that, Stuart looked over at him. He smiled and lowered his eyes, shy like a maid indeed. He wondered if he had ever done more than just William's kiss.

"I must say William managed to outdo himself. Look at that.“ Cary granted, drinking down some wine before going over at them.

George checked his watch. Half an hour had already passed but one of them still had not come. Freddy was always late, truly, but that was too much even for him. Besides, he was on his third glass already. He hoped things could start soon.

"Can we put some music? Tell me, boy, do you dance?“ Mitch walked to the other corner where LPs were piled up. He chose one and put it on. The jazzy notes played loud and Mitch let out a loud sigh, turning around with heat in his eyes, shaking his body as the kids were doing, he went swinging over to his friends. Ella's voice burst out. 'Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea.'

Stuart sipped his drink, looking away from Mitch and back to George. Mitch didn't let that go.

"Georgie! Come 'ere.“

He danced towards him, moving slow and fast. His clothes gripping into his muscles, into a body George knew too damn well. They were close again and without shame, Mitch took him by the waist, bringing him in, holding him as if he was a girl. And George let him do it. He had always let him do that. Still, he kept an eye on Stuart. Afraid of what his reaction would be. And all he saw, staring back at him, was lust. Pure and simple.

"Is Fred coming?“ William asked Cary.

"Any time now.“ Cary shrugged, bringing the bottle of wine to serve the empty glasses.

As each of the nights they met in that apartment, tonight they would get wasted. The poison didn't matter. What mattered was the fact they would have fun. A kind of fun that was particular to them. It started with two adventurous boys from Yale on a weekend trip to the city. A rich boy who was too horny for his own good. And his companions, ready to jump on every fantasy thrown their way. And it had lasted for ten years now. A meeting of drinks, of sex, of intimacy that few on that big wild world could know.

Mitch pulled Stuart with a free arm and the three were standing tight against each other when they heard the knocks on the door. Cary was walking towards it when it opened and in came Fred Hopper. He too had company.

A handsome black man walked behind him, hat in hand, eyes shining as he watched the three-man embracing there in the middle.

"So you were that impatient, hm, boys?“ Fred said out loud. Louder than the music.

"How did you get up here, you ol' bastard?“

"Ms. Celine from the first floor was coming in. We helped her with the groceries, she gave each of us a sweet kiss.“ He came in, holding William and kissing him right on the mouth. George could see William blushing. Who was the maid now? he couldn't help but think when he watched his friend following Fred with his big eyes.

The black man was offering his hand to Cary.

"I'm gonna lock that door now. We are all here and no Celine is welcomed into our little thing.“ He winked at the stranger, one hand over his chest. "You go and enjoy 'em sweetheart.“

Fred came over them and kissed Mitch's mouth. Then George's. And ignoring Stuart's deer eyes, kissing him too. With a hand over George's ass, he finally introduced his companion, which everyone except William looked over from head to toes.

"Dear friends, meet the new Saxo from my band, Mr. Castro. Anton Castro.“ He winked at the man before walking towards the drink and taking a bottle of wine all to himself.

Anton stood there, hat still in hand, nodding and moving his upper body as if to thank an invisible crowd for all the applause. "How d'you do?“ His voice was hoarse, loud and so good to hear, despite being not more than a whispered salute. They all stared and he smiled at that. Big plumpy lips and big white teeth forming a quite unique and handsome smile.

George moved towards Fred, leaving Mitch dancing alone with Stuart.

"You didn't say you would bring friends.“

"Relax, old Georgie. Anton is not from your area and, well, I thought I could come and spicy things up a little. Besides, the guy knows how to give us a good time.“ Once more, Fred winked at George and with the bottle in one hand, walked down the living room, standing there in the middle. His blond hair cut short. His turtleneck shirt with holes over the right shoulder. As bohemian as he liked to look like, Fred was one of the richest in the room. Almost as rich as Mitch. And almost as handsome.

"Boy, oh, boy. I missed you all.“

Cary came back in just in time.

"Well, here's to us, love. Here's to us and our little love nest. And to our new pets too. Welcome to the party.“ He swung into the room, the jazz playing loud over them.

From the drinking table, George watched them all, a good feeling on the mouth of his stomach. He had missed them too. He put his glass down and pulled out his jacket. With one finger, he pulled his tie out and unbuttoned the first buttons of his white shirt. It was still early and he was already loosening up. But it was that kind of party. He was home there like he wasn't at home in his own place. Those guys were family, those were friends. Those were his people. He turned with a smile.

He served himself more wine and raised his glass immediately.

"Are we ready for a good night, boys?“