Friends, Sexcapades and Love Affairs Chapter 4
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 Four – Secret Crush
Mike examined the fern guarding the door to the elevator like an extra from an alien-themed movie, something about overgrown biota taking over some distant planet. He could take the stairs, but it was just something about elevators he liked. The idea that he was, for several seconds, in the hands of a machine, pleased him and tickled his inner nerd. He felt the same thing about high-speed trains, but he wasn't that much of a traveler to enjoy such joyrides. So, for the moment, the elevator trips he took to the basement of the building where the servers were, aka his workplace, had to do.
A few co-workers joined him. Well, maybe that wasn't the right term to use. Mike didn't mingle, and he was a loner by definition. No one cared about the guy in washed-out jeans and dark t-shirts operating the machines that practically kept the whole place from falling apart.
It was okay. Mike liked to be in charge of so much power and responsibility, even if he got no gratitude for his day by day work. Whenever there were troubles with the hardware, he was the man. No bit of information was lost, due to his careful backup strategy, and the company living and breathing above cared naught about the small disasters averted every day by the faithful employee operating in its bowels.
"Have you seen our new boss?" one of the female co-workers waiting for the other elevator chirped happily.
"He is absolutely dreamy. Finally, we have someone younger to run the company. Mr. Armstrong was supposed to retire eons ago."
"Well, at least they don't have to change the name on the door," another said. "Our new boss is Mr. Armstrong's nephew and carries the same name. So we practically have a prince inheriting the royal throne."
"It must be nice not to have to climb the ladder. You know, have everything handed to you on a silver platter."
"How old is he, anyway?"
"Thirty-two, I heard."
"That's nice. Not too young, but not too old. Just as I like them." The woman laughed.
"With our luck, he's married."
"Lena from HR told me she didn't see a ring."
"Then we really have a chance, girlfriends. May the best of us win."
"It's not only us; you realize that, don't you?"
"I haven't seen him yet." A third intervened in the conversation. "How does he look like?"
"Oh, he's tall and dark," the first said dreamily. "Ivy League crew cut hair, all buttoned up ... you know, that kind of guy."
"Oh, nice."
"And he dresses like he's out of a fashion catalog. Business professional, not casual."
"You girls are missing the point. Does he have a girlfriend?"
"Unknown at this point."
"Maybe he's gay," the third one said.
"Shut up!" The other two turned toward her.
Mike pretended to focus on the numbers blinking slowly as his elevator was finally coming down.
"Hey, you're Mack, right?" One of the women talked to him.
"Mike," he corrected her.
She offered him a forced smile. "Have you seen our new boss? Could you tell whether, you know, he's batting for your team?"
Some people at work knew of his orientation, not that he was waving the rainbow flag or anything. Apparently, turning down a couple of female co-workers and being honest about the reason had been at the root of that. He didn't mind, so he replied as direct as possible. "I haven't seen him, and I couldn't tell, anyway," he offered in the most apologetic tone he could muster.
A collective disappointed sigh from all three women was the immediate reaction.
"Is your gaydar broken?" One ventured to ask.
"I don't think I have one of those," Mike replied, shifting from one foot to another.
Good, his elevator was there. Mumbling an excuse, he hurried inside. That had been enough awkward conversation for the entire week. He doubted he could be some woman's best gay friend for now or something. Like he felt toward many guys, he was intimidated by women, too.
***
Jared and Adrian were both too tired to go out for a drink on Monday evening, so Mike was heading for one on his own in a pub close to his workplace, where he had never set foot before. It had been all Jared's idea, encouraging him to go out a little and try to mingle with other people. For starters, he had decided on something neutral, not a gay bar or club, as usual when hanging out with his best friends.
He intended to go there, stay for a drink, and then head back home. That had to count as mingling, and even Jared had to admit that it was enough for a first attempt.
Mike pushed open the glass door, and the flurry of conversation was the first thing to meet him. It was the type of place where young corporate employees chose to hang out, mainly because it was close to the cluster of buildings where most of them worked.
Maybe it was too brightly lit and too open, Mike thought and was about to turn on his heels when newcomers pushed him inside from behind. Now he had no choice but to head over to the bar, climb on a stool, and order something simple.
Everything looked squeaky clean, and that gave the place a bit of an artificial air. Not that Mike liked uncleanliness or anything, but it felt like the smallest human imprint had been wiped with sanitizing alcohol.
Mike grabbed a stool and sat upright, placing his elbows on the shiny bar, but then reconsidering. As usual, he appeared to be invisible to the bartender who was busy serving a band of slightly tipsy young interns.
"Do you come here often?" From his right, he heard a voice with a slight pleasant lilt.
Maybe the guy wasn't talking to him, but it would have been impolite not to look. Mike turned on his stool and came face to face with a pair of amused black eyes. His breath caught in his chest.
"I'm terribly sorry about my accent. It's both a blessing and a curse. People often don't understand me, although they say they like it. Should I repeat the question? It's not just an ice breaker. I would really like to know the answer."
Mike stared at the stranger for a couple of seconds. He was pretty sure people had trouble understanding the man simply because he was too gorgeous. The plaid shirt was open two buttons, and the stranger seemed relaxed and at ease. The rolled-up sleeves showed muscular forearms, and Mike lost a couple of more seconds admiring the bony wrists and large hands that, although not particularly callous, seemed to belong to someone working construction or something that involved a lot of physical activity. Unlike him, the stranger had had better luck with the bartender, and there was a snifter half-filled with whiskey in front of him. Neat, Mike thought and remembered something about what Adrian had once told him about the right way to have whiskey. The stranger knew his stuff; no whiskey on the rocks for him.
"I'm Ryan," the man interrupted the awkward silence and offered Mike his hand.
"Hi," Mike replied and shook Ryan's hand. "Mack, I mean Mark, fuck, I mean Mike."
What the hell was wrong with him? Great, now his t-shirt was glued to his back with sweat.
Ryan laughed softly. That simple sound tickled Mike's ear. Did everything about this man have to be sexy? "Which one is it? Or all three? Your parents must have had a strong sense of humor."
"Mike, sorry. Just nervous about new places," Mike explained and looked down.
"Ah. It's all right. I was looking for company. I'm just as new to this place, as well."
Mike exhaled. That could explain some curious looks thrown in their direction. Or maybe he was just too awkward not to draw attention. Who was he kidding? He was invisible. Everyone must have been staring at the sexy stranger at the bar who, for some unfathomable reason, was chatting up a nobody.
"I don't come here often," Mike said, finally answering Ryan's initial question. "Actually, it's my first time."
"Ah, so you don't hang out with the rest?" Ryan made a small gesture, pointing around them.
Mark looked, too. There were some vaguely familiar faces around, but it was not his style to strike up a conversation with people he barely knew. Some worked in the same building as him, and he even knew a few names.
But it had to be weird as fuck to admit to Ryan that he was such a loner at work. "I don't know any of these people," he said.
"Are you from the city?" Ryan asked.
Mike nodded.
"So, do you know places that are more fun than this?"
For a moment, Mike hesitated. But what the hell? He would tell Jared he mingled with at least one person. "Sure."
"Then let's go. Any minute now, and there will be holes drilled into my back. And I seriously like this shirt."
Mike liked Ryan's red and black plaid shirt, too. It looked great on him. As Ryan stood up, Mike stared at the classic jeans and tan boots that completed the man's outfit.
Ryan joked. "Do you happen to work at a fashion magazine or something? There's something judgy in your eyes that scares me."
Mike shook his head. "Sorry about staring. I don't work at a fashion magazine." He was about to say where he worked but stopped in time. Admitting that he was practically co-worker with most people hanging out in the bar would make him appear awkward now after saying that he knew no one.
"Let's go then," Ryan said and threw a bill on the bar.
Who did that? Everyone there appeared to be the type to pay for drinks with their phones, Mike thought. It didn't matter. Maybe Ryan was a bit old-fashioned, but Mike liked old-fashioned things, too.
Ryan touched the small of his back as they went out, and Mike felt a bit queasy. Could it be that Ryan was interested in him? No, they weren't in a gay bar, so that couldn't be. Ryan was looking for a buddy to drink with.
But what if? Mike needed to get a hold of himself. That wasn't okay. He couldn't just mistake people's politeness for sexual interest. Maybe his gaydar was broken, and maybe there was a workshop somewhere for getting it fixed. But what if he could find out?
The words flew his mouth. "Would you have anything against going to a, um, gay bar?"
Ryan hooked one arm over his shoulders as they began walking down the street. "Hmm, I was about to propose the same thing. You know, to make sure."
Mike wasn't queasy anymore. The butterflies in his stomach were doing somersaults. "Make sure what?"
"You know. That we're batting for the same team. I just had a hunch in there. But, you know, I would've hung out with you, either way."
Mike made a small weird sound. Great, now he was about to lose his voice, too. Wait, he was getting ahead of himself. Ryan needed someone to take him to a gay bar because probably he wanted to hook up. With someone else. Not with him.
"Have you been in town long?" He eventually found his voice.
"No, not long."
"What kind of place do you prefer?" Mike asked. "We have all kinds. I go with my friends everywhere they take me --"
"Well, I would like a place that's dark, comfy, and lets me kiss you until we can't feel our lips anymore without people staring," Ryan replied promptly.
Mike stopped, frozen in the spot.
"Ah, sorry," Ryan said, and stopped, too. "Do you have a boyfriend? If that's it, I'll back off, don't worry. I'd still like to have a drink with you, but only if that's okay."
"I don't have a boyfriend." Mike stumbled over each word like it was a boulder. "Are you interested in me?"
Ryan burst into laughter, and Mike could feel the tip of his ears getting as red as the hair on his head. "You're adorable, but I bet you know that. Yeah, I'm interested. I couldn't believe my luck when you sat next to me at the bar."
"Really? I mean, okay. I mean, I'm flattered. Sorry, I have no idea what to say. Men usually hit on my friends, not me. They're much cooler and more handsome." He was babbling, and it was bad.
"Maybe that's not the type I go for," Ryan replied. "Although I should ask. Are your friends movie stars or something?"
Mike laughed, but then tried to stifle the sounds he was making. "Adrian could be, I think. He has a, um, sculptural body --"
Ryan laughed again. "Sorry, Mike, but you should know that advertising other men shouldn't be a topic of conversation on a first date."
First what? Was he in a dream? Was he being tricked, like on those stupid shows?
"Are we on a date?"
"We are if you want," Ryan replied, and this time, after squeezing Mike's shoulder, he let his hand travel lower until it reached the back pocket of Mike's jeans and pushed it inside.
That was practically code for an underhanded method to touch someone's butt. Mike's belly butterflies were in a mating frenzy now.
"Wow." That was the single thing he could say.
"I know. I'm a forward type of guy. What do you say?"
"Yes," Mike said in a somewhat mechanical voice.
It was awkward to walk like that, so he snuck one arm around Ryan's waist, too. He hooked one thumb through one of the belt hoops and let his hand roll around Ryan's hip. He was touching the guy, and he was touched, too. Jared would be so proud of him.
"I know just the place where we can hang out," he said after Ryan asked him whether he had a special place in mind.
It was pretty much a hole in the wall type of thing, but it was cozy, and nobody cared about the clientele getting busy in dark corners. The last time he had been there with Jared and Adrian, Mike had felt like paralyzed in paradise. It seemed like everyone there was going at it, not sex per se or at least that was what he thought, but as close to that as possible, and only the sounds of people kissing and touching around him had sent him home with a huge boner. Adrian had gone through at least three or four guys, while Jared had hooked up with a man he left home with afterward. Mike had been the only loner, which had made Jared feel bad the next day, and Adrian tell him for the umpteenth time that he needed to loosen up.
"Loosen up," he mumbled to himself.
"What?" Ryan asked, and he leaned toward him, blowing hot air over his ear.
Mike shivered. "Nothing. Just my friends tell me I'm too stiff."
"Hmm. I have a pretty good recipe for stiffness. It involves rubbing the stiff area, maybe with a bit of lotion," Ryan continued to whisper in his ear. "Spit works, too."
This was bad. If Ryan kept it up, Mike would just come in his pants like a total teenager.
Good thing they were inside. Mike chose a table that was as remote as possible from the central area, which wasn't much, either, but where a few couples still struggled to use it as a dance floor, no matter how cramped.
They sat on the comfy sofa that had just enough room for two people. The place was designed for getting busy with a date. A waiter came to their table and placed some drinks on their table in tall champagne glasses.
"Remind me if we ordered because I can't recall," Ryan said.
Mike laughed. "I forgot to tell you. The personnel here kind of watch the door, and send the first drinks as what they think would be fitted for the patrons. Then you can have whatever you want."
Ryan took the flute and stared at it. "And what's this?"
Mike could tell he didn't know, but he wanted to impress his date. "Secret Crush," he said. "It's just some sparkling wine, Campari, sugar, and I don't know how many types of bitter."
"Secret Crush. Hmm, sounds fitting," Ryan commented. "Let's drink to it. Or just drink it."
Mike raised his glass, too, and clinked it to Ryan's flute. He had to be in a dream because there was no way he was drinking erotic cocktails with a drop-dead gorgeous guy. Maybe Ryan didn't fit his fantasy man to a tee since he didn't appear to be excessively muscled and didn't have the overbearing attitude of an alpha male, but he was charming, handsome, and, what counted more, much interested in him. Also, he was pretty tall, and Mike liked that, too. He was sure that if they stood face to face, he would have to crank his neck to stare at Ryan.
At least, for tonight. That only meant that he needed to make the most of it, Mike thought and drank from his flute. Ryan rested his arm casually around his shoulders, but then his hand moved, and his thumb brushed by Mike's cheek, making him turn his head through sheer force of attraction. It was dark, and it was comfy, just as Ryan had said he wanted, and Mike was thankful for it. He leaned in, hoping, willing himself not to be awkward, not to be that guy he usually was, the kind that left home on his own because he never dared to make a move.
"I feel really lucky tonight," Ryan said.
Mike was about to snort and say the first self-deprecating thing that came to mind, but his lips were caught in a soft kiss. The immediate result was his bones turning all jelly, and his eyes fluttered shut. Ryan's lips were firm but gentle, and Mike opened his mouth, allowing a tentative tongue, tasting of the cocktail they just had, to reach inside.
There was also a soft grip on his neck, Ryan moving his hand again, this time resting his fingers against Mike's throat. Mike felt like he needed to hold on to something because it was like he suddenly jumped off a plane and floating down, inexorably, toward the earth.
But it wasn't gravity pulling him closer, but a strong body, and soon he and Ryan were clashing, their hands a bit frantic, as their kiss deepened. Mike had only a slight feeling of eyes rolling in his head, toes curling inside his sneakers, and the entire mid part of his body getting all hard, from just one kiss.
"Wow, I knew you would be sweet, but wow," Ryan said as he slowly moved away.
Mike had no idea what to say to that. It wasn't often that he was told that, and his so-called success from the previous weekend when he had almost gotten caught in a threesome couldn't count as a success. This wasn't about being the third wheel. Ryan really liked him, and there were no hidden boyfriends around waiting to jump for joy as if at a surprise birthday party.
"Wait," he suddenly realized he hadn't asked, "do you have a boyfriend?"
Ryan laughed. "Is it some jet lag that makes our conversation feel so fractured?"
"Sorry. I think I'm slow," Mike said. "I just realized that I didn't ask you."
Ryan caressed his cheek with his lips. "I'm the one guy's man type, sugar."
"Oh," Mike managed. "So, no boyfriend."
"No boyfriend," Ryan said.
Now Ryan's hand was on his knee, and Mike could feel needles and pins rising under the touch, and spreading everywhere. He shivered lightly, as Ryan kissed him again as his hand on Mike's knee grew bolder.
Mike caught it as it rested against his unmistaken erection. "Wait, I--"
"It's okay. I usually don't get so much carried away on the first date." Ryan moved his hand away.
That wasn't what he meant to say. Mike's primary worry right now was how not to come in his jeans from being touched like that. "It's okay," he whispered. "I like being touched."
"All right," Ryan said, and this time he snuck one hand under Mike's t-shirt.
There had to be something he could do, too. Mimicking Ryan's move, he tried to reach under his partner's shirt. There was also an undershirt in his way, and while trying to remove it by pulling it up, Mike managed somehow to let his hand slide directly on top of Ryan's crotch.
"You little devil." Ryan laughed. "I'm trying to be nice here."
Ryan was nice; he was very nice that very moment to Mike's nipples, which he lavished with attention, first one, then the other, rolling them between the thumb and the forefinger. Mike counted on that as Ryan being nice. What could be more was on his mind, with that as the starting point.
"I could," Mike whispered, unsure whether what he was saying was even normal.
That other time when he had been to that bar with Jared and Adrian, his friends had only resumed to some heavy petting. Adrian had said that after a few Power of Will cocktails, he had eventually pulled some guy out and fucked his brains out, but that was Adrian, and he never played by the rules.
Mike was Mike, and at least he could be decent enough not to act on impulse and refrain from having sex inside the bar. The atmosphere was as lewd as it could get, but he doubted the personnel would tolerate people having an orgy while supposedly seated at their tables.
But tonight, Mike didn't want to be someone he had always been. Ryan could be just in passing, and that meant that tonight was the night. Without saying a word, he slid down and under the table. From there, he struggled with Ryan's fly. Gentle fingers caught his and helped him.
Mike groaned as he felt the smooth skin under his fingers. It was not easy to tell from that position how big Ryan was, but his cock was pretty thick, and Mike's mouth watered instantly.
It was better to drool over the object of his fascination than sit there. Mike moved his lips over the length of the hard cock in front of him under he reached the head and began lapping gently at it. It tasted so nice Mike couldn't remember ever having something as good as that.
Fingers pushed through his hair, caressing it, and Mike delved in. It felt incredible to have a mouth so full while his own erection was struggling against his jeans. But tonight was all about being bold, so Mike managed to pull out his own cock and began rubbing it in tandem with what he was doing to Ryan's tool of pleasure.
One thing was sure; he needed to be as fast and inconspicuous as he could, to avoid turning the sexy time he was having right now into a nightmare. So he used all the suction power he could muster while treating his cock the same, moving his hand up and down steadily.
Ryan moved and pulled out his balls from his jeans, too, so Mike didn't hesitate to rush at licking them and taking them into his mouth. Everything about Ryan was delicious. His tongue swirled over the taut skin, moving back to the engorged head, and then he swallowed as deep as he could.
The fingers in his hair grabbed gently and pulled him back. Mike bit his lips as hot droplets landed on his cheeks. He squeezed his cock but didn't splash, careful to make his climax as quiet as possible.
He moved back up, and Ryan began patting his cheeks with a tissue. The gesture itself felt like a reward for a job well done. Ryan kissed his lips and then laughed. "I had no idea this bar was that kind of place."
"I don't think it is, normally," Mike said, this time embarrassed by his earlier audacity. "I just hope nobody noticed."
"It's true that I could only observe heavy petting and nothing overtly sexual, or at least not as sexual as this, as we got seated to your table," Ryan replied. "So, it was a bit risky what you did?"
Mike tried to be nonchalant about it. "I guess."
"I wish I could clearly see your face like that, all covered in my cum," Ryan whispered into his ear.
Mike wiped his hand nervously on a tissue, too. Was that really him? Did he have it in him to be like that? Now, after the fact, no matter how awesome it had been, Mike felt like getting cold feet.
"You smell of me. That's nice," Ryan continued. "Hey, are you shivering? Are you cold?"
"No." Mike shook his head, vigorously. "I just ... I mean ... I don't usually do such things."
Ryan pulled him close, lending him some of his body heat. "Then I'm all the more honored. Hey, what would you like to drink next?"
Mike just mumbled something and let himself comforted. Their kisses turned satiated now, and the waiter came and went a few times. After a couple of hours, he was wasted in all sorts of ways, but he wasn't shivering anymore, and any fear over what he had done was gone, too.
"I don't want to be a spoilsport, but during the workweek, I go to sleep at the same time," Ryan said.
"It's all right," Mike said right away. "I should head home, too."
He had a mind to ask Ryan if he wanted to come over, but he didn't want to assume. After all, Ryan had just made it quite clear that he needed his sleep.
"I have one regret about tonight," Ryan said.
Mike could feel the familiar squeeze on his heart. And there came the other shoe, dropping like a rock. It was usually like that. Even his very few hookups often told him that he was nice, but none cared about seeing him again. Sort of like what usually happened to Jared, but in his case, the guys Jared was hooking up with were as gorgeous as him, only that they were social butterflies.
"Do you want to know about it?" Ryan asked.
"Sure." Mike tried to be cool about it. "Shoot."
"We didn't get to talk," Ryan said and pulled him in for another kiss. "I think I was just too taken with this."
Mike snickered and then tried to rein in his emotions. "I guess I was, too."
"So let's meet again this week. I can't promise anything for tomorrow or on Wednesday, but on Thursday, I'm free."
"Great," Mike said in a heartbeat. Was it okay to appear so enthusiastic?
"Let me give you my number."
Mike pulled out his phone like it was a lifeboat, and he was the last man standing on the Titanic. "Ryan," he whispered as he entered the phone number.
"I really had a great time, Mike. I hope that we'll get to know each other properly."
"I hope so, too."
"Now come here. I know I need to go, but I want to kiss you one more time."
Mike couldn't recall other kisses or other men in his life. Ryan was a master of all things involving kissing.
"Why did you say that you felt lucky tonight?" Mike asked when Ryan let him breathe.
"Didn't I get lucky?" Ryan laughed. "Well, it's simple. Here I was, walking among strangers, and I saw the cutest boy ever. And that was you, just in case you're wondering."
"I'm not exactly the kind to make an impression." Mike tried to protest.
"That's what you think. I like the shy and nervous type."
"Ah," Mike said. "Really?"
Ryan nodded. "They tend to be honest people. And I value honesty above everything. I don't like people that are too polished, fake. I like genuine people, like you."
"Wow," Mike said in a low voice. "I had no idea anyone liked that."
"What? Honesty?"
"No, I didn't mean that. I meant the shy and nervous type."
Ryan laughed. "Well, I don't know about other people, but I do. Quite a lot."
"So I'm your type?" Mike ventured to ask.
"I don't feel my lips anymore, so that's mission accomplished. I'd say you are, and more than that. It's refreshing. Usually, people want something from me."
"I want something from you, too," Mike replied.
"Maybe," Ryan admitted, "but first you gave me something. And I didn't hear you asking for anything in return."
"I guess I can't feel my lips anymore, either. Maybe that's enough for a reward."
"Let's meet again, Mike. I want to get to know you."
"Ryan, can I ask you something? Do you really think I'm cute?" Mike blasted out the question like an artillery round.
Ryan laughed. "Yeah, the cutest."
"In that bar for preppies?"
"In the known universe right now," Ryan replied.
Damn, Ryan had a way with words, Mike thought. Right now, he hated that he had work tomorrow, and that Ryan had work tomorrow, and that they had to part ways. He wanted to do the getting to know part, and the going to sleep together part, and the waking up together part, and all the parts that made a whole.
The waiter left the bill on the table and withdrew without making a sound. Ryan took it before Mike had a chance to reach for it.
"I invited you here," Mike insisted.
He knew it had to be expensive, but it wasn't like he spent money on many things, anyway. This was worth it.
"And I'm new around here, so I need to get on your good side so that you would invite me again," Ryan argued.
Mike stared a little, as Ryan paid in cash. That was a bit weird, but maybe not everyone liked to use credit cards and their phones to pay.
"Is there something wrong? Look, you could pay next time," Ryan said.
"Nothing, it's just that you pay cash. Not that it's wrong," Mike hurried to say.
"I like to have money on me when I go around having fun. Sometimes a name is like a tin can strapped to your tail if you know what I mean. I use credit cards like everyone else in day by day activities. That's all."
"Oh, okay," Mike said.
It wasn't until later that night, as he recalled the events that he realized he didn't know Ryan's last name.
***
A tall man in a business suit was followed by a cohort of men and women dressed sharply talking animatedly. From where he stood, Mike could only see the man's back, and he had to admit, just like anyone else, that the new boss had a striking presence.
It was funny, he thought, how the short dark hair stopping right above the collar of his shirt looked precisely like Ryan's hair. But maybe he had a bit of a crush, so Mike saw Ryan in every man he met carrying a smidge of resemblance. There was still a long time until Thursday, and Mike tried not to think about it, or the passing of time would drive him nuts.
Down in the basement, surrounded by the comforting blinking of server lights, Mike got to work. That was enough to distract his attention from the awesome guy he met on Monday evening.
After a couple of hours, his phone rang. Mike smiled as he saw Jared's pretty face popping on the screen. "Hey," he said, and he was pretty sure the way he smiled was palpable even through the phone.
"You're in a good mood," Jared commented. "And here I was, worried that you haven't called to tell me about your night. Did you go out, as we talked?"
"Yes, I did," Mike confirmed, and his lips stretched into a broader grin. "And I met a gorgeous guy!"
"Wow, do you have time to tell me everything? I'm on a break."
Jared was a professional photographer and doing mostly freelancing work, so he wasn't constrained by the same rules as nine to five employees.
"I can give you the abridged version."
"Please, do," Jared encouraged him.
"Well, I went to a bar close to work, and I met him," Mike started.
"Is he a co-worker then?" Jared asked.
"No. I mean, he didn't say, but he didn't know anyone there and was all by himself, although a lot of people were ogling him. And he said he's new in town, so he must have landed in that bar by accident. Then he asked me if I knew other places that were more fun, and that's how I ended up making out with him for more than two hours."
"Wow," Jared said. "Nice work, Mike. Listen, did you take his number?"
"I sure did," Mike said, proud of himself.
"That's great. So are you two going to see each other again?"
"On Thursday. He's pretty busy with work."
"What does he do for a living?" Jared asked.
"It didn't come up. Nothing came up really since we were just too busy kissing like crazy."
"I'm glad to hear the attraction is mutual, and, Mike, I'm proud of you for getting out of your shell a little."
"You should've seen me," Mike said, no longer able to hold it in. "I blew him in the bar."
"You did what?" Jared exclaimed.
"Yeah," Mike said, and now felt getting red just thinking of it. "I just wanted to, and I went for it. He was surprised but pleased."
"What kind of bar was that?" Jared asked.
Mike told him quickly.
"Then you're lucky you didn't get caught, although, frankly, I think a lot of people do more than just kissing when they go there. Still, it's nice for more of a romantic fantasy," Jared said. "So, you're free tonight?"
"How's Chris?" Mike asked, realizing he had been too busy gushing out about his crush that he hadn't asked his friend anything about him or the guy he was seeing.
"We haven't talked yet," Jared replied, and his voice was strained.
"I'm sure he'll call," Mike said.
"I'm not holding my breath. Seriously, I need to check some matrimonial websites or something."
"Chris seemed a lot into you. He's just busy," Mike said.
"I suppose. But I try a new diet now," Jared joked, "one that's not based on disappointments as the main course. So I'm trying to take things lightly."
A company memo blinked on Mike's screen, and he opened it. "J, I'd love to talk, but it looks like I need to go introduce myself to the new boss or something."
"Okay. Let's meet tonight. And good luck."
"I hope he doesn't fire me or something," Mike said in a nervous voice.
"Fire you? Mike, have a little confidence. You're indispensable."
"What if he wants to make some cuts?" Mike felt his anxiety rising as the reality of the memo opened in front of him caught up with him.
"You can't know that. Look, go, and say hello. I think it's a good sign that the boss wants to see you."
"He wants to see everyone; it seems," Mike said, as he looked through the memo again. "I'm scheduled in ten minutes, so I better run."
"I'll keep my fingers crossed. But I'm sure you'll be fine. Hey, call me after you see your boss. You know, just so that I know you're fine."
"Okay," Mike said.
He wished he could have Jared's confidence in him. Human interaction was a discipline he had never been good at.
***
He knocked shortly, even if the secretary told him to go right in, and entered only after he heard the encouragement to come in from the inside.
Mike kept his eyes down as he entered. He closed the door behind him carefully, and only after that, he looked up.
"What the hell?"
Those were the words of his boss. He didn't speak. There was too much ice in his veins for him to do that.
Behind the old boss's desk sat no one else but Ryan. His Ryan. What his? What Ryan? What was he thinking?
Mike just stood there, completely frozen, and gaping like a fish. It was Ryan, all right. Gone were the plaid shirt and relaxed attitude. Instead, Ryan had been swallowed by a dark blue smart business suit, and he looked nothing like the guy Mike had made out with for hours on Monday evening.
But he was the same guy, and Mike felt his lungs draining of air.
"Do you work here?" Ryan asked and stood up abruptly.
Mike would have taken a step back, but he was already glued to the door.
"Yes," he said in a faint voice. "Do you?"
It was stupid to ask that, but his mind was empty. Not for long.
"Are you going to fire me?"
"Are you going to sue me?" Ryan asked at the same time.
"What?! No!" Both exclaimed.
Ryan sat back at his desk and pushed his fingers through his hair. "Why the hell didn't you say anything about working here when we met?"
"You didn't ask," Mike pointed out.
"I'm sure I did," Ryan said, and his eyes were darting sideways like he didn't want to look at Mike at all.
"You just asked if I went there often and if I knew anyone," Mike said, regaining his voice. He could not just stand there and allowed to be judged unfairly.
"And? Why did you lie?"
"I didn't! I never go to that bar, and I don't get along with anyone!" Mike pursed his lips and then looked down stubbornly.
Ryan groaned and leaned back into his chair. "What the fuck, Mike? Wait, is that even your name?"
"I don't lie," Mike said, and the ice in his veins turned to steel. He was like a cornered animal. His forgotten strength was coming to the rescue.
Ryan looked at the screen on his desk. "Micah Cavanaugh."
"All my friends call me Mike." Great, now he was defensive.
Ryan groaned again. "What fucking luck. I should've known not to try to pick up someone in a place so close to work. But you looked so out of place that I just ..." He trailed off and ran a hand over his face.
"Do I keep my job or not?" Mike felt cold sweat pouring down his back. Ryan looked angry. Angry bosses were just one of the many things that made him feel anxious.
"Of course, you do," Ryan said. "So, are you trying to tell me that it was just a mistake? That you really didn't know anyone at that bar?"
"Shy and nervous," Mike found himself talking.
"What?" Ryan asked, and his dark eyes thinned in displeasure.
"Nothing," Mike replied. "That's me."
And your type, he felt tempted to say, but it wouldn't be fair. If he tried to put himself in Ryan's shoes, he could realize the situation was bad. No one had to know. But, hell, some people must have seen them leaving together. Shit, shit, shit.
"This is a fucked-up situation," Ryan said.
"It's all right. I won't tell a soul a thing. It's buried. It never happened," Mike said quickly.
"Some people must have seen us going out of the bar together," Ryan pointed out.
"And I could just say that you asked me something about directions to ... places. It's not like anyone followed us into the street or anything. I think." He was babbling, and his nervousness was growing.
Ryan sighed. "I take a gamble here, trusting you."
Please, please, I don't want to start searching for a job, Mike prayed silently. "You don't have to worry. Also, people might have stared at you at the bar that night, but I'm pretty much invisible. No one will remember I was there, too."
"You're not invisible," Ryan said, and his voice was calm now, composed. "And I remember."
Mike swallowed and continued to look down at his snickers. "Mr. Armstrong, you wanted to see me?" he asked in as a neutral voice as could muster.
Ryan picked the cue. "You're an exemplary employee, Mr. Cavanaugh. You are due a raise." His voice was neutral, too, professional.
"You don't have to bribe me," Mike mumbled, staring at his feet.
"Stop assuming that you know me," Ryan said in a frosty voice. "My decision to offer you a raise had been taken before you entered my office."
"How come you were drinking alone that night?" Mike asked, feeling like he had the right to ask some questions, too.
"I rejected anyone approaching me on the grounds that I was during my off-hours. I believe I was quite convincing."
Mike could bet. The cold man in a suit sitting at his desk was nothing like the Ryan he thought he knew. But he didn't know anything.
"And didn't you worry what people might say about seeing you leave with someone?"
"My private life is none of anyone's business," Ryan said, and this time, his eyes were burning with something.
Mike nodded. "I understand. Thank you for the raise, sir."
"Dismissed," Ryan said.
Mike walked out of Ryan's office, stiff and cold everywhere. There was a sound, something like a thump, from behind the closed door, and he cringed, pushing his head into his shoulders. Such things could only happen to him.
***
Jared caressed his hair gently as he lay with his head on the table, feeling miserable. "Hey, it was just a mistake on both parts. And he wouldn't dare to fire you now. It's no one's fault, but if he wants to spread the guilt around, he's equally guilty. Actually, even more than you."
"How's that?" Mike asked, and his words came out slurred, as his cheek pressed hard against the wood, making it difficult to talk.
"He should've known not to hunt so close to home," Jared said promptly. "You had no idea who he was, but he could assume you were an employee. Plus, he didn't ask you directly if you worked with the others."
"That's pretty much what he said, and what we talked about. How come these things only happen to me?" Mike complained.
Wallowing in his misery, he missed Adrian taking a seat next to him.
"What's with our pretty boy?" Adrian asked, cheerful as usual.
"He got involved in a difficult situation," Jared said in a diplomatic tone.
"I blew my boss," Mike said directly.
Adrian appeared surprised for a moment. Mike couldn't tell since he didn't dare to look at his friend. "Wow, kinky." So like Adrian to say such a thing. "Did it happen in the Oval Office? Did you keep the dress or does the Secret Service have it already?"
Jared moved his hand from Mike's hair, most probably to punch Adrian. "None of them had any idea they worked together when that happened. It was just a coincidence," he explained.
"Damn. What are you going to do, Mike? I could ask around if you want to work someplace else."
Mike could tell Jared was making desperate gestures for Adrian to stop talking.
"Guys, I know you're great, but at this point, I'm more afraid of finding a new job than of confronting my boss. The man I blew in a dim-lit bar," Mike said, slurring the words. "It's not like I'll stumble upon him by the water cooler."
"You only drink bottled water," Jared pointed out.
"Exactly." Mike straightened up. "That's it. I don't have to see him ever again. There's no need for me to go work somewhere else."
Adrian scratched his head. "Still. He's your boss. Are you sure you're not going to have wet dreams just because you saw his car parked on the premises or something? That's so going to haunt you, Mike. Wait, did he threaten you or something?"
"He gave me a raise," Mike replied.
"Then it must have been a really good blowjob," Adrian joked again.
Jared intervened. "That's not the reason why Mike got a raise. It was for doing his job well."
"I know. I'm just trying to cheer you up, guys. It's like there's a funeral or something."
"You sure are in a good mood," Jared said, talking to Adrian.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Did Edward call?" Jared asked.
"Yes. We talk every night. On a schedule, but still."
"On a schedule?" Mike asked. "How's that? And wait, is this a fixture?"
"We talked on Monday evening, and we talked again tonight. Yeah, it's pretty much a fixture."
"And what are you talking about?" Mike asked.
Adrian smiled. "Things. Kinky things." He winked at Mike.
Mike groaned and put his head back on the table. "It's so nice to be Adrian."
"Yeah," Adrian admitted. "Don't worry, Mike. If the guy knows what's best for him, he will keep his mouth shut. And it looks to me like he does."
"Mike still likes him," Jared said.
"I don't!" Mike protested.
Jared threw him a knowing look. He made himself small.
"All was great until today. I've never met anyone like him."
"Your boss is off-limits, Mike," Adrian said and placed one hand on his back in sympathy. "I'm sorry, but you don't fuck at the same place that pays for your rent and stuff. It's bound to get messy."
"I know," Mike replied. "Why do I always have to get in such messes?"
"It's not your fault." Jared hurried to comfort him.
"Or maybe it is." Adrian smirked as he grabbed Mike by the scruff of his neck. "Listen here, Mike. Stop overthinking everything. Just go with the flow. So you gave your boss a bj as a welcome gift. Big deal. No one got hurt. Go to work, do your thing, bring home the dough. But next time, have some fun when we go out. Real fun. Loosen up."
"Isn't it funny that Adrian is the one with a boyfriend of all of us?" Jared said with a small laugh. "Mike, you're a responsible guy, and I love you for that. Don't listen to Adrian and his live-the-moment life strategy. But he is right, in a way. No one got hurt. And you need to get over it. We'll go clubbing this weekend, and we'll have fun."
"On Friday, because I'm booked on Saturday," Adrian said.
"What did I say?" Jared shook his head. "Adrian, of all people, got himself a boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend," Adrian protested.
"Right. He's like your master, and you're the pet," Jared joked.
"We're not that, either. But it's too complicated to explain it to mortals like you," Adrian counter-attacked.
Jared rolled his eyes. "Sure. As a friend, I must tell you again. Be careful. And have nine-one-one on speed-dial."
"Now you talk like Mike, who's afraid of yogurt," Adrian said.
"Hey, you never know what goes into that thing. A thousand types of bacteria could kill you," Mike said, only half-joking.
"All right, dad. I'll only have organic stuff," Adrian replied. "Now, let me hear your strategy for going to work tomorrow."
Mike pursed his lips. His friends knew him a little too well. "I wanted to call in sick."
"No." It was Jared's turn to scold him. "You go there as usual and see about your job. Your boss has no business visiting the servers, so there's no point in so much avoidance, okay?"
"Okay," Mike admitted.
"I'll check on you every hour if I have to," Jared warned him. "There is no way you give up on a job you like --"
"For a blowjob," Adrian finished the sentence.
Mike snickered. He could always count on his friends to make him feel better, no matter how screwed up he was. "All right, guys. I'll do it."
He continued to smile as Jared and Adrian patted his back. But, on the inside, his heart was still small, small, small.
TBC
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