Friends, Sexcapades and Love Affairs Chapter 14
Friends, Sexcapades, And Love Affairs – Ch. 14
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2020 Laura S. Fox
All Rights Reserved
Gay Erotica
Intended for Mature Audiences Only
This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.
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Chapter Fourteen – I'm Not Okay
Adrian stole a look at his phone, made a move to grab it, and then decided against it. There were only minutes until Edward would call, but he still felt impatient. What was wrong with him? He had had that one in the bag, so to speak, only to be kicked out the door after the deed. Did he want a relationship with Edward, after all? With such an unconventional man?
He used to think of himself as free and unconventional, too, but this impatience, right now, told a different story. Throughout the day, Adrian had dreamed of Edward, with his eyes wide open. Now he was supposed to focus on work and not on what Edward would say or how his voice would sound like when he eventually called.
There had been no phone call on Sunday, and that because Edward had told him that obligations slumped him. But now it was Monday, and the clock was crawling slowly toward seven pm. The waiting was killing him, and Adrian had partly decided to spend more time at work only so that he could keep his mind busy.
Edward was pretty addictive. Adrian shifted in his chair and then decided to stand and walk around for a bit and stretch his legs. He didn't have to close his eyes to picture Edward waiting obediently to be fed a healthy dose of cum. Adrian felt even a fit of small anger growing. What kind of relationships had Edward been in before him? The pervert that he was, he must have experimented with all sorts of things. Adrian wanted to believe that he was unique, and Edward had even said something to that extent. Still, he didn't want to fall into the trap of a false sense of security.
Edward could call everything off with the snap of his elegant fingers, and Adrian didn't want to think of what it would mean. For years, after Alexander, he had guarded himself so well. And now, he cared again, and the thought was unsettling.
As long as he believed himself to be in control, it was all right. With Edward, two nights ago, it had felt like that. Adrian had felt like a winner, a conqueror entering a surrendered city. But the keys to the kingdom weren't in his pocket. Edward had eluded him with practiced ease, despite their hot lovemaking.
Only thinking of that made Adrian want to slap his cock, and not in the fun way. Was it okay to let himself care? Edward wanted a partner to play with, not a boyfriend, not even a lover in the traditional sense. What was he getting himself into?
The phone rang, and Adrian almost jumped on it, but then he reconsidered. He took two seconds, and then, as if he was slightly surprised by the call, he picked up.
"Is it seven already?" he asked in a voice he hoped was both relaxed and charming.
"So says my watch. Are you still at work?"
"You know, some of us still have to work for a living."
"Your situation leaves nothing to be desired, or so I understand."
"I can't complain. I love my work. What about you?"
"I love my work, too," Edward replied in a playful voice.
"I know you do. But you don't have to slave your life away; it's a matter of choice with you."
"Do I sense a hint of jealousy? Trust me; you shouldn't care so much about all that."
"It's easy to say when you have a frigging grand staircase leading to the first floor."
"Ah, I see. You can't help but tease me. Why are you pissed, as you would say, Adrian?"
"I'm not pissed."
"I can sense you are."
Adrian moved the phone from one ear to another. "You kind of left my dick hanging in the wind."
"I recall letting you leave only after being completely satisfied."
"You're not a sex expert," Adrian retorted. "You can't know that."
"Or is it that the source of your dissatisfaction comes from a different place?" Edward talked as if he mused to himself.
"Stop psychoanalyzing me. You're not a shrink, either."
"But I'm in charge of your wellbeing, and, right now, I know for a fact that you are discomforted."
"Discomforted? Pissed sounded better."
"I thought so. Come on, Adrian, say it. What's eating you?"
"You sent me home like I was a booty call."
"You're a bit above that," Edward teased him.
Adrian was beginning to feel more irritated. "Oh, so I am that."
Edward laughed at the other end. "I see that you're getting all hot and bothered over how I treated you. But it could not be helped, Adrian. My obligations --"
"What obligations? Stop being so secretive. After seeing The Awakening, I don't think anything else could shock me."
"I'm afraid my obligations are the opposite of that. They involve dull, tedious affairs. On Sunday, I visit my family, and I entertain some of their guests. I am always required unless I have some emergency to take care of."
Adrian felt himself cool down a bit. He hadn't seen his parents in a while, so he needed to commend Edward on being such a dutiful son. Maybe he could call his mom and dad later; they were on a cruise, somewhere, having fun, as they deserved.
"All right. I get that. So when do I see you?"
"This weekend."
"Fine." He didn't know what else to say. If he insisted for them to see each other sooner than that, he would just sound childish, and he might just annoy Edward.
"Dream of me, Adrian. I'll surely dream of you," Edward promised with a low, sexy chuckle.
That made Adrian smile. All right, so maybe Edward wasn't that difficult to turn into a real boyfriend if need be. He just had to play the game and get better at it so that he could beat his opponent.
***
Something was not right, Mike could tell, as he looked at the data coming in. His diagnosis tools were trying to calm him down, but he knew the signs of a cyberattack when he saw one. He could try to reroute the traffic, but he wasn't particularly sure that it would work. The company needed information to function, and now the useful information was lost in a sea of spam.
He grabbed the phone and called the ISP provider. Like on cue, the landline phone on his desk began to ring. People must have started to notice, as well. Mike held his phone between his cheek and his shoulder and reached for the other.
"Yes, I know, it's a DDOS attack," he explained shortly. "No, miss, I'm sorry, I'm not exactly in charge of the Internet. Just don't do anything."
Mike put back the phone and prayed for someone at the ISP provider to pick up. While he tried to communicate with the tech service, the landline phone lit up. Between explaining the problem to the tech service guy and trying to appease the people who needed to do their work, his patience was wearing thin.
As he suspected, the tech support guy offered to reroute the traffic, and that pretty much meant that all of it, good or bad, would go into a little black hole. His fingers danced on his keyboard, as he chose to ignore the angry landline phone, while he reconfigured the firewall. Unfortunately, the tech support guy wasn't much of help, which was precisely what he was afraid of.
The alternative was simple and complicated at the same time. He was just the server guy, after all. He could just let the ISP provider handle things and sit with his arms crossed. Or he could try to use his little software that could reroute the traffic to the cloud, and then he could contain it there and analyze it until the storm weathered off.
That was a bold move. If he did it without talking to anyone in the company, he might just put himself in a vulnerable position. But if he didn't act fast, who knew how many other things could go from bad to worse?
He needed to call the IT department. By now, they had to know that something fishy was going on. With a not so heartfelt thank you, he ended his conversation with the tech support and grabbed the landline. "Please, don't call here for a while, as I need to get in touch with the IT department," he said quickly to the angry person on the other end.
"This is the IT department. What the hell is going on?"
"We're under attack," Mike said.
"Thanks, Captain Obvious."
Mike didn't know which of the guys in IT was talking to him, but there were some snotty bastards there. "Tech support at the ISP provider tells me they could reroute to a black hole."
"Oh, great. Just fantastic. Did you tell them to stuff their black hole up their holes?" The snotty bastard laughed at his own bad pun on the other end.
"I need to have confirmation from above for this."
"We can't do that. There's a whole bunch of emails and other communication that would go down the drain, too."
Talking about who was Captain Obvious now, Mike thought and rolled his eyes. Now there was no time for useless chatting. "Can you guys give the green light for this?"
The snotty bastard fell silent. "No, we can't do that."
"All right, so what am I supposed to do?"
"I don't know. Aren't you the server guy? This is a server problem. Just deal with it."
The line went dead. Mike shook his head. So like some people to wash their hands and pretend they had no responsibility. He called the first upper management number he found on the list. The person on the other end declined responsibility, as well.
Mike was starting to sweat. He was lost in a sea of communication problems because he didn't have who to ask what to do. One after another, the people he kept calling declined to assume it, telling him that it was his problem to solve, or they just keep sending him up the hierarchy. But Mike couldn't go for one solution or another without having some higher-up tell him they agreed to it.
In the end, there was only one office in the building – of those that mattered – that he hadn't called. Ryan's assistant spoke to him in an affable voice, and then he put him through.
"Yes? Micah?" Ryan's voice sent instant shivers down his spine. And he also called him by his given name, which, for some reason, in his mouth, sounded different.
"Mr. Armstrong," Mike said and then gulped, quite audibly.
"Why are you calling here?" Ryan sounded puzzled. "Is this because of Saturday --"
"No," Mike said quickly. The words began pouring from his mouth. The last thing he needed was for Ryan to recall the events on Saturday. Anything but that.
Ryan listened in complete silence. "So, what are our alternatives?"
"Rerouting to a black hole. Only one alternative, so it's not an alternative --" Mike began to babble.
"Is there an alternative?" Ryan asked, his voice not one ounce angrier or upset.
Mike hesitated. "There might be one."
"All right. What is it?"
"It's something I made," Mike asked. "I've tested it, so it should work even with large amounts of data."
"How does it work?"
"I reroute everything to the cloud, and then I analyze it there so that I can identify the malicious data."
"Will that save the real traffic that comes to us?"
"It should," Mike replied.
"Do it. You have my permission."
"Thank you, sir."
Mike didn't wait for a reply from Ryan and got to work fast. There was no time to waste. Was Ryan still thinking of Saturday? Mike shook his head. Now was really not the time to think of all that stuff. He had a lot of work to do.
***
He was still deep in work when he heard someone coming in. "I know, I know, I'm still working on it. The attack might last for twenty-four hours or so --"
"Have you eaten anything?"
Mike turned so fast that the headphones on his head tried to pull him back, their cable entangled, most probably, around his chair. Why was Ryan there? And he looked his usual gorgeous self, so Mike felt his throat getting dry like the Sahara Desert.
"It's almost nine, and you're still here," Ryan explained as if he was some child. "Have you eaten anything?"
"Um, I had something --" Mike stopped, trying to recall when it had been the last time he ate and what it was. It was Monday, so he probably had the turkey sandwich. He liked to keep things well organized, and that included his daily and weekly diet. Funny though, he couldn't recall eating the sandwich or how it tasted like. His stomach rumbled, suddenly aware of the absence of food.
"I'm going to order something. What's your pleasure?"
Mike continued to stare at Ryan, who was getting busy with his phone. "Why are you here?" he asked in a meek voice. "This will take some time, and I don't know how long it will be. But the program is already starting to learn so --"
Ryan threw him a look that made him weak to the knees. Such a good thing that he was sitting. "You've been working for seven hours straight, Micah."
Again with the name, Mike moaned internally. Why did Ryan enjoy so much to torture him? "It's my job, sir."
Ryan quirked an eyebrow. "It's only us here. You can call me by my name."
"I don't think I should," Mike said stubbornly.
"Ah." Ryan seemed to have forgotten about his phone now and the call he wanted to make. "Then it's like I'm your boss, and you must do everything I say, right?" As he said the words, Ryan made a small gesture with one hand to illustrate that whatever it was, it had to remain between the two of them.
Mike couldn't imagine telling anyone about what he and Ryan had. Not that they had much. And he would actually tell Jared and Adrian if anything happened. No, nothing would happen!
"Your lips move in a funny way. I'm your boss, and I'm ordering you to call me by my name and to eat. How is that?"
"Thank you, but --"
"No `buts'. It looks like you're saving the company from quite the pickle. Can you identify where the attack has come from?"
"That would be difficult. Right now, saving the real data is more important. And I hope that my program will learn some interesting things so it can recognize the patterns next time it happens."
"Your program, you say."
"Yes." Mike looked down. "It seems to work and since you didn't want to go with what the IPS provider wanted to do --"
"It wasn't an accusation. Actually, I'm very impressed. And glad that you're here, working for this company."
Mike just nodded.
"I'm going to order something healthy and filling. You continue to do your thing. And I will be quiet. You won't even know I'm here."
Mike turned toward the screen of his computer without a word. He knew Ryan was there; he could smell his sexy cologne, and even sense the air displacement where he stood. Focusing on the task at hand would be so difficult, now.
***
Ryan seemed genuinely interested in what Mike explained as they ate. It was easier than he thought to keep the communication between them at a professional level. Of course, it served that he didn't look at Ryan at all.
"I'm sorry if I let you down," Ryan said out of the blue.
"It's okay. I understand everything," Mike replied while keeping his eyes down.
"Are you always this accommodating with your lovers?"
Mike snickered. "What lovers?"
"Don't tell me you're a virgin."
"No, of course not."
He could feel Ryan's steady gaze on the crown of his head.
"So, are you going to reply or what?"
"Um, I don't know what to say. Wait, what do you want me to say?"
The program was working his magic, so he could allow himself this little break.
"I want you to say exactly what's on your mind. Leave nothing out." Ryan's voice was still a tad playful, but not as much now.
"Getting through this attack is on my mind," he replied, hoping for an easy way out.
"You know what I mean. Have you thought of me since Saturday? Because, stupid me, I've only thought of you."
Mike shifted in his place, but he still didn't look up at Ryan. "That's not fair. You decided to break things off. Not that we had ... things," he hurried to add. "We had nothing."
"We had that magical evening when you took me to that romantic cocktail bar."
"And the dance on the roof," Mike added, without thinking.
Ryan moved and placed one hand over Mike's wrist. It was warm, and Mike could feel his pulse quickening. "I can't seem to take you out of mind. I was trying hard to push any thought of you away, and then you called to tell me about this situation."
"I had been trying anyone else for minutes until I got to you," Mike replied. "I didn't bother you on purpose."
"I'm glad that you did. But, for a second, I thought that you were doing something foolish and brave by calling me. I thought you called me to tell me what a coward I was."
"That's not what I think of you."
"You should. What is it about you, Micah?"
"Could you please, not call me that? It sounds kind of intimate." Mike hoped his voice didn't quiver. He had little to no control over the beating of his heart.
"It's maybe because that's what I want to be intimate with you."
Mike shook his head. "Your reputation is at stake. I don't want to be the one responsible for ruining it."
Ryan sighed audibly. "Then my reputation is, indeed, in good hands. I'm the only one at fault for pining over you when you obviously are okay with the situation as it is. It's all right. I guess it will come to pass. I'm sorry. I have no idea why I'm saying all these things."
Ryan curled his fingers around Mike's wrist and used his thumb to brush over the place where the pulse could be felt.
Mike pulled his hand free. "I'm not okay," he said quietly. Ryan didn't say anything, and Mike thought he might not have heard him. So he looked up and stared at Ryan. "I'm not okay."
Who moved first? Mike wasn't sure. But he was soon in Ryan's arms, and their lips connected, drawn by a supernatural force. Now he was okay. Ryan squeezed him tightly, and Mike followed his lead, angling his head to make sure that their kiss was as deep as they could handle.
Ryan broke the kiss and looked at him. "I don't know what I'm doing," he whispered and let their foreheads touch.
"I do," Mike whispered.
Maybe he was possessed when it came to Ryan. Maybe he was a bit insane, and he was putting both of them at risk, trying to pull such a thing at work. If anyone walked in on them, they would both be in trouble.
But he couldn't think of all that. Right now, the only thing that mattered was to grab Ryan and kiss him forcefully. He was overly aware of how clumsy he had to be, but he couldn't be bothered with that, either. There was a small shaking in his hands as he tried to open the buttons on Ryan's shirt. Underneath that fabric, he would find everything he needed, the man he had been dreaming of for the last weeks.
Ryan steadied his frenzied attack by grabbing his wrists. Of course, this was wrong. No, he was wrong to assume anything.
Then Ryan kissed him again, and his worries melted like snow in spring. This kiss wasn't the hungry one from earlier. It was sweeter and subdued, and it made his mind spin. When it ended, they stared into each other's eyes.
"I can't ask anything of you," Ryan said softly.
"You can ask everything of me," Mike replied, feeling stubborn. He didn't move his eyes away.
"It would be wrong."
"It wouldn't be."
"I thought I was your boss, and you were supposed to kiss my ass," Ryan said, his eyes warming up.
"I would kiss your ass for hours," Mike let out, and then he blushed. The stupid things he found himself saying. Ryan's kisses were like a shot to the brain. He couldn't think clearly and, apparently, anything could leave his mouth without censure.
"I would do the same with you," Ryan said back.
The ping from the computer, letting him know that the program needed him broke the magic. Mike shook his head and hurried back to his battle station. He couldn't look at Ryan now, so he pretended to be more interested in what happened on the screen than it was necessary.
Ryan placed his hands on Mike's shoulders, massaging them slowly. "You are a great person, Micah. I'm glad I met you."
"But we can't do this," Mike added.
"I know."
"I need to work on this," he said. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then blinked fast. He needed to chase away the annoying moisture in them.
"I'm glad you're my employee, too. It's great for the company," Ryan said. "Never leave us, okay? Will you promise?"
He couldn't promise that. His being employed there was what made things so complicated. But, against his better judgment, he nodded.
Ryan ruffled his hair and then placed a small kiss on the crown of his head. For a moment, Mike felt his resolve weakening. One moment in life, he could be foolish, screw the consequences. But, as he debated with himself, Ryan moved away. The door opened and closed very slowly as if Ryan didn't want to bother him at all.
***
"This is not exactly the kind of place we usually hang out," Jared pointed out, as soon as they were inside and took place at a table.
"I'm trying to get out of my comfort zone," Mike replied.
"Ah, is it because of Ryan? What happened?"
The rhythmic song blaring over the speakers and the dancers on the ring singing along and not exactly in tune made for quite a noisy atmosphere. But it was a Wednesday, Mike wanted out of the house, and as much as his choice had surprised Jared, he had to admit that the place had its charm.
They grabbed two pints of beer and took place at a tall table. Watching the dancers was comfortable from that vantage point, and it was as if the people there put on a free show for the bystanders. Jared found himself tapping his foot to the rhythm of the music.
Mike drank from his pint and grimaced. Jared laughed. "Hey, it was your choice. Is it really bitter?"
"Clearly more bitter than whatever I've ever put in my mouth."
"Come on, don't avoid it. What happened with Ryan?"
Mike sighed. "We kissed again. He told me he had been thinking about me, and, you know."
"I don't know if you're not telling me. Have you told him that you consider finding another place to work?"
"I don't consider it," Mike said right away. "Yes, I do. But I need to take small steps, like coming here. And he wants me to stay and work for the company."
"Ah, so you told him of your intentions."
"No. I just helped with a problem, and Ryan was glad, and, well, he told me never to leave the company."
"And the part where you two kissed, when did it happen?"
"Just a bit earlier in that conversation."
Jared shook his head. "Even if he told you to stay, that doesn't mean that he won't be glad if you make this move so that you can be with him."
"I don't know how to tell him this. I'm afraid that it would be too bold of me to go to work somewhere else. And what if I make a mistake? What if Ryan is not, you know, the one?"
"Frankly, Mike, I think being more open to change would do you good. Okay, don't do it for Ryan's sake; do it for yours. You have potential. I know you're a good coder."
"You don't know the first thing about that." Mike snickered.
Jared rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know, I'm the artistic type in our little group. But you're the guy who knows how to code, even if I don't know exactly what you're good at. Maybe you should try freelancing as I do."
"It would be too scary for me," Mike said.
"Well, then it's good that we're here, drinking the most bitter beer I've ever tried, and watching people dance. It's new, and it's good for you."
Jared let his eyes travel over the dancers. A tall guy, in a cowboy outfit, seemed to be the star on the dance ring. His partner, a young woman who appeared to be completely smitten with him, was trying hard to keep up while he showed her some moves.
Jared watched the dancer and took another sip from his beer. Damn, the guy was really too on the nose with that outfit. He even wore boots, and the shiny buckle in front drew Jared's attention on more than one occasion. All right, maybe it was also because those jeans were really tight, and Jared could tell that the guy was packing some real heat; it was that why he was staring so insistently.
The song stopped, and the dancers took a breather. Jared continued to stare at the cowboy, who was now engaged in quiet conversation with his partner. He wore his checkered flannel with his sleeves rolled up, and Jared couldn't help but notice the sinewy forearms. Clearly, he seemed to be a fan of physical work. Without having a thing for that Brokeback Mountain look, Jared had to admit that the outfit looked good on the guy. When he slightly turned, Jared bit his lips unconsciously. That was quite a scrumptious behind, what he was looking at right that moment.
He shook his head. He wasn't there to ogle straight men in cowboy dress. Maybe just a small extra peek because he was curious about the guy's face, too. Since he had worn his hat low while dancing, the cowboy's face had been obscured. Jared looked up when the man turned again as he shook hands with people.
Coincidence or not, the cowboy was looking straight at him, and their eyes met. Only for a second, because Jared quickly looked away. He had a feeling staring at a man in such a place would not score him points. The one thing he needed to do right now was to swear off men for a while. The last fiasco was still too fresh in his heart and mind.
Not that he even considered having anything to do with the sexy cowboy. In the short seconds their eyes had met, Jared had registered a few things, such as a strong jaw and thick eyebrows shadowing a pair of dark eyes. From that distance, he couldn't tell much else, but the cowboy looked like someone who spent a lot of time in the sun. He had that rugged look about him, something of a Marlboro Man in him.
Mike was nursing his beer, and he seemed lost in thought. Jared felt instantly guilty. He placed one hand on Mike's shoulder. "You know, Mike, it's best if you do everything in your own time. Don't allow anything or anyone to pressure you. I'm glad you took me here tonight. Even though this beer is undrinkable if you're asking me."
"Thank you, J. You must still be hurting after Chris, and you're still the one to comfort me because I can't make up my mind about what I really want."
"I think you know what you want. And it's good that you're thinking of getting out of your comfort zone."
Mike seemed to ponder over something. "Would you think badly on me if I met with Ryan, you know, in secret?"
Jared grimaced, but he tried to smile. "You wouldn't be happy this way, Mike."
"I know," Mike moaned. "But, I want him so much."
Jared was about to start comforting Mike again, when someone bumped into him from behind, making the table shake. The beer pints lost their balance, and their content splashed everywhere, including on his favorite t-shirt.
Annoyed, Jared turned, decided to give the clumsy patron a piece of his mind. He froze for a second as he stared into a pair of dark eyes he had seen just earlier. The cowboy smirked at him. "So damn sorry about that. Can I buy you, boys, another round?"
Jared had no idea what irked him all of a sudden. The guy looked as if he could hold himself on two feet just fine. After all, he had been dancing until earlier. So that couldn't have been an accident. Maybe the cowboy had heard them talk, and just thought it would be a good idea to make fun of them, two gay guys in a place like that.
"No, it's all right," he replied in a clipped voice. "We were just leaving, anyway. Mike, let's go."
Mike didn't protest at all. Maybe it was for the better that they didn't have to force themselves to drink that foul beer, Jared thought.
"Hey, don't leave on my account," the cowboy drawled.
Jared stared at him, now completely annoyed. The dark eyes were glinting with mischief. Jared felt like he wanted to punch the guy in the nose; it looked like others might have felt the same, because it was clear the anatomic part in question had been broken before. Not that it made the cowboy less charming. He had that appeal of a man who usually got away with anything, in particular in his relationships with women. There was both grace and strength in how he held himself.
"We're not leaving on your account," Jared said, making sure to pour as much acid as he could in his voice. "We're just leaving, period."
"Ah, that's too bad. And I ruined your t-shirt, too. Can I get your number? I should pay for the dry cleaning."
"It's a frigging t-shirt!" Jared didn't know he could have a short fuse, but it looked like that uncouth cowboy was meddling with his electric system. "It doesn't need dry cleaning!" Mike pulled at his elbow. "Mike, let's go."
He marched out, with Mike hanging from his arm.
"Come by again," the cowboy called after him.
Jared didn't turn to shout his reply. "Not in this life!"
He had no idea he had it in him to be this not-nice person. It was completely new, and it felt a bit liberating. Mike was still pulling at his elbow once they were out in the street. "Sorry about that, Mike. The guy just got seriously on my nerves. And now I'll have to take the smell of that nasty beer out of my t-shirt. Can you believe people like that?"
"Jared," Mike said, his eyes wide.
"Hey, don't look so scared. I wouldn't have gone into a fight or anything."
Mike just shook his head. "I'm not scared. But I think that cowboy really wanted your phone number."
"What? No way! He was just trying to get on my nerves. He must have heard us talking, and probably thought himself clever with that prank."
Mike snickered. "J, it's so not like you to be this dense. That's usually my area of expertise. That guy was looking at you as if he wanted to eat you. You know, in a good way."
Jared stopped. "Nah, you must be imagining things."
"I'm not," Mike said stubbornly.
"All right, so maybe he wanted to make fun of the gay guy who landed by accident in his bar or something. That must have been it. He danced all the time with some girl."
"Ah, so you noticed him! He must have noticed you back."
Jared had to admit that the cowboy hadn't seemed aggressive at all. The look in his dark eyes had been playful, sort of come-hither. No, he shook his head; now, he was the one imagining things. The guy was attractive, but that didn't mean anything.
"We should just head back home and catch some sleep."
"He really liked you," Mike said with conviction. "Oh, look, he's coming."
Jared turned only to see the cowboy jogging toward them.
The man tipped his hat. "Sorry about earlier. My friends told me it would be the perfect pick up line. They're a bunch of assholes when they want to be. So, here's how I usually do it." He offered his hand. "I'm Shane."
Jared stood there without saying a word. Mike nudged him. He shook his head and offered his hand, too. "Jared."
"Nice to meet you, Jared." Shane held his hand for a while.
He then offered his hand to Mike, too, but he only shook his curtly.
"Here is my number," Shane added and gave Jared a napkin on which a number had been written down in thick, blocky lines. "Just in case you change your mind about that dry cleaning." And then he winked at Jared like that was supposed to be reparation enough for that t-shirt. "Sorry about ruining your night. I hope you guys will come again. Have a good evening."
With that, he jogged back to the bar, leaving a much flabbergasted Jared behind. It was indeed a sight to watch him go.
"Didn't I tell you?" Mike began to talk excitedly. "He really digs you!"
"Whatever," Jared said. "I'm not in the mood for a new complication right now. Cowboy wannabes named Shane sound like quite the complication to me."
Mike picked the napkin from his hand, folded it carefully, and then stuffed it into Jared's right pocket. "There. Just in case you change your mind about complications."
No, he wouldn't change his mind about complications. It wasn't like him to move on so fast, not that he had any experience with relationships, except for whatever had happened with Chris. He sighed, and Mike squeezed his shoulder. "You know, that guy was a total asshole. At least, there's a bright side. You're not the one married to him."
Jared burst into laughter. That was, indeed, a relief. All he had to cry over was some two-week relationship or so. It did count as a long one, compared to the fleeting flings he had had in his life. "You know, Mike, maybe I'm not meant to have a relationship right now. Maybe I should, you know, just have fun for a while, no strings attached."
"Will that fun include calling a certain handsome cowboy?" Mike nudged him playfully in the ribs.
Jared snorted. "I don't think he's my type."
Mike snickered. "You two were eye-fucking each other just earlier. I could sense the electricity."
"There was no electricity," Jared protested, but he had to admit to himself that he felt flattered at the thought that a handsome man like that could be interested in him. But he was beyond that. Just as flattered, he had felt when Chris had hooked up with him the first time, and where had that taken him? No, this time, he would be a lot more careful. He wouldn't be the kid with stars in his eyes dreaming of a relationship.
"I'd say it was."
"I won't ever come back here, so there's no chance to see him again."
"You have his number," Mike pointed out. "Maybe the best solution, as they say, is to get back in the saddle. Oh, the saddle. I just made a pun. Because he's a cowboy and all that."
"He dresses like a cowboy. That doesn't mean that he's one," Jared said.
"Well, he looks the part quite well."
"There are no farms around here, so he can't be a cowboy."
"Maybe he's just visiting. And that's your chance for a fling," Mike continued. "I think that's what they prescribe on those relationship advice sites."
"Mike, I think this is another case of you getting things a little bit wrong. What advice would that be?"
Mike shrugged. "What if Shane is here only for a few days? There's nothing for you to lose. You can meet him, hop back in the saddle, and then kiss him goodbye. Like literally."
"How come you're so shy in your relationships, but you're pestering me to have a one-night-stand with a sexy cowboy?"
"Ah, so you like him! And it's easier to give advice than follow it. It's just that he seemed to like you, for real. It seemed all genuine."
"Well, I'm not going to fall twice for the same trick. I thought Chris liked me for real, as well. And look where that got me."
"It's not fair to judge all the guys by taking Chris as the measuring dick. Oops, I meant stick. Measuring stick. Did I make another pun? It must be that awful beer. I had half of it, I think."
Jared patted Mike's back. "Then you're a true hero. I couldn't manage more than one sip or so."
He couldn't consider jumping back in the saddle so quickly. It wasn't like him, despite his bravado about having fun and all that. Maybe he would just throw away Shane's number when he was back home, and Mike couldn't see him do it.
***
Jared was busy gathering his pictures from the wall. He had just been part of an event gathering young photographers, and, in his book, it had been a bit of a success. As a freelancer, he needed to network, at least once in a while, and there were occasions he could use, like this one, to create new connections.
Also, it felt nice to have his name out there, even if along with others. Chris was wrong. He could make a name for himself without any help, especially not from a man who considered him a side piece and nothing more.
"Jared Boyle?"
He turned at the sound of that voice. For a few moments, he stared at the stranger, a handsome man in an expensive suit. There was something familiar about him, but Jared didn't know where he had seen him before or whether there was just some uncanny resemblance to someone he knew.
"Yes," he replied.
The mystery was cleared right away. The stranger offered his hand. "Andrew Reeves."
Now Jared knew precisely where he had seen the man before. He pursed his lips and ignored the extended hand. Maybe he was petty, but if what Chris had said to him about having an open relationship was true, Jared wanted nothing to do with Andrew Reeves.
It hurt that he was so handsome, too. His curly hair was just a tad too long to be considered business-like, but not completely rebellious. Just as the night he had seen him the first time, Jared thought he had something of a classic beauty in him. Why would Chris go out and try to have fun on the side when he had such a man at home? His manner seemed polite and charming, too.
The hand withdrew. "I must apologize for my husband."
Jared turned and continued to take the pictures down, reining in with difficulty the need just to rip them from the wall, stuff them in his bag, and storm out.
"You know, you made quite an impression on him," Andrew continued. "It's not often that this happens with Christian. He's quite pretentious."
Christian. Pretentious. Of course, Andre must have known his husband a lot better than Jared had managed over the short time they had seen each other. No, not seen; they had just fucked. He continued to remain stubbornly silent in the hope that Andrew would take the hint and then a hike.
"I just want you to know that he didn't mean any harm."
Jared felt his jaw hurting. This time, he turned, and said through his teeth, "Oh, I think he meant everything he did and every word he said."
And he did harm me. Jared left those words unspoken.
Andrew put his hands up in a gesture of appeasement. "He should have told you about me."
"Right. Preferably before he took me to bed." Jared had a mind to use more harsh words, but it wasn't the right place for that, and it wasn't like him to throw nasty words around, anyway.
"I can see why he likes you," Andrew said, and he appeared amused.
"Of course. I look like an easy lay," Jared said in a low voice.
Andrew quirked an eyebrow. "You don't know the first thing about being married, Jared. Routine can become annoying. It can kill passion."
Jared threw the gathered pictures on the table in front of him and then crossed his arms over his chest. "And yet, some people manage to remain married all their lives without cheating on each other. I wonder how they do it."
Andrew chuckled and shifted his weight from one foot to another. Maybe that conversation was not easy for him, either. Jared wondered what Andrew really wanted.
"He told you the truth when you two last spoke on the phone."
"Too late," Jared replied. "The moment he tricked me into sleeping with him --"
"Tricked you? What are you? Twelve?"
Jared swallowed thickly. He had a feeling that Andrew and Chris deserved each other. "No, I'm not twelve. But let's just say that married men shouldn't go around, pretending to be single, just so that they can score with someone other than their spouses."
Andrew seemed a bit taken aback by the tone of his voice. "He told me you were pretty desperate to get in bed with him. Maybe you just ignored the signs."
Jared turned to the remaining pictures once more. His head was hurting already. "I assumed I was dealing with an honest human being. Rest assured that I won't make the same mistake again."
Andrew released an exaggerated sigh. "You're young, and you're overreacting."
"Why are you here?" Jared asked, ignoring the other's arrogant attitude.
"I wanted to know you."
"Tough luck, then. I'm not interested in knowing you."
"Hmm. Chris does like the most the ones with an attitude. Why were you alone the night Chris met you?"
"Well, that's none of your business."
"Let's say that it's my educated guess that you couldn't score, as you say. So the moment someone paid you any attention, you jumped right into it, without thinking of the consequences for a moment."
Jared made a conscious effort to breathe. The nerve on that guy was fantastic. He tried to ignore how those words pulled at his insecurities, threatening to unravel them all. "All right, whatever."
"And you're flippant, too."
"It must be part of my charm." Jared had finished taking all the pictures down, but he didn't want to turn and face Andrew. He had a feeling he would jump to strangle him.
"Too bad. Let me give you a little piece of advice. If you want to have fun in this life, drop the attitude."
Jared shook his head. All his time with Chris, he had tried to be nothing but understanding and accommodating. And now Chris's husband was there, hurling insults at him, and accusing him of being the opposite of that. But it was all right; he could take a deep breath and ignore everything. "Are we done here?"
He took his pictures and stuffed them in his bag, without sparing Andrew another look.
"It looks like it. You're a pretty boy, Jared, but pretty looks alone won't get you far in life. It's how you use them that counts."
Suddenly, it struck Jared, what had pushed Andrew to come to meet him like that and then insult him. There was an undertone of jealousy under all that arrogance. "Are you talking from experience?" Jared looked directly at Andrew.
From up close, he noticed a few things this time. Andrew seemed to be in his forties, like Chris, but his face was a bit too puffy if he looked carefully. Could it be that he was doing Botox shots already? What kind of person in their right mind did that at such a young age? And his lips were curled into an ugly smile that took from the handsomeness of his face.
Suddenly, he felt pity. He sighed and hiked the bag on his shoulder. "I would wish you and Chris all the best, but I don't think that would be appropriate."
Andrew seemed pretty pissed now. Maybe he didn't like to have some things said back to him. "Oh, to be young and naïve," he hissed. "Do you think you can land another man like that? In your lifetime?"
"It's okay," Jared said promptly. "I can live with the thought. And I'm pretty glad you landed Chris, and not me."
He pushed past Andrew, ignoring the annoyed huff that followed. That had been one hell of a conversation, and now he needed to breathe in some fresh air.
To think that he had been so gullible! Jared focused on his breathing as he marched out of the building. As much as it felt like he had done pretty well, especially at hiding what he truly felt, and how Andrew's words hit a little bit too close to home, he was drained now.
But, seriously, what was all that nonsense that he couldn't land a partner to sleep with? That was bullshit. At the same time, Jared thought as he slowed down his pace, there was a part of the blame he shared, although he wouldn't admit it to an arrogant bastard like Andrew or Chris. He had gotten too fixed on the idea of having a boyfriend. At his age, who did that?
All right, so Adrian was – sort of – in a relationship, and Mike was pining over his boss, but where was he, Jared? Apparently, he was nowhere he felt good to be. And maybe Mike was right, and he needed to get back in the saddle, if for no other reason than that he needed to prove himself that he wasn't undesirable.
He knew that Andrew had said those words to hurt him. If he were smart, he would just let it slide. But all of a sudden, he needed the confirmation that he could be with someone because he wanted to be and because there were people interested in him.
There was no moment like the present. Without overthinking things, he pulled the folded napkin from where he placed it in his bag for safekeeping.
"Hi there," Shane drawled.
Jared froze. What was he doing? Was he going to say? Why hadn't he thought this through? What was he supposed to say? Hey, are you ready for a romp in the hay?
Now there was no turning back. If he cut the conversation, he couldn't ever call Shane again without having explanations readily at hand. "Hi," he eventually said.
"Who is this?"
`Nobody' didn't sound like a good answer. "It's Jared. You ruined my t-shirt," he explained in a clipped voice, which he hated right away. He sounded like such an asshole.
"Ah, Jared." At the other end, Shane perked up right away. "Are you in the mood to get together?"
Straight to the point. Jared felt a bit like taken for a ride by an ocean wave. He could just decline, but then, why had he called in the first place? "Sure. Right now?"
"Yeah."
Jared couldn't believe himself as he listened to Shane. It looked like the guy already had a place in mind. At least, it wasn't the one with the awful beer.
TBC
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