A Shift in the Universe Christian Mitchell Copyright 2004
CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
Parking is a major bitch in Los Angeles. Often you might find yourself driving around the block a few times before you finally discovered a place to park your car. This happened to Kyle and me so we were ten minutes late arriving at the Abbey. We immediately spotted Roger at a table sitting alone. When he saw us he smiled and waved us over.
Roger was wearing a pair of black slacks and a tight white T-shirt. He also had a thin black leather choker around his neck. He looked good and I told Kyle that Roger was better looking than I had previously thought. Kyle explained that it was probably because I never really paid attention to Roger as a potential sex object. I agreed by nodding my head.
When we arrived at the table Roger stood up and greeted us each with a hug.
"I was beginning to think that you guys had chickened out," he smiled.
"We had to find a place to park. And you know how that is," Kyle replied.
"Why would we chicken out? There's nothing to be scared of," I said.
"Oh, I don't know. I thought maybe you guys got nervous about your first night out at a gay club."
"Nah, we're not nervous," I replied. "Plus we would have called you to cancel. We're not complete assholes."
"I know," Roger grinned. "I'm glad you guys decided to go with me."
We sat at the Abbey for nearly two hours. We talked and laughed about various topics. Roger introduced us to a few of his friends. Then we ventured to Cobalt Cantina for dinner.
By time we arrived at Mickey's it was practically 9:30. There weren't many people in the club. To be quiet honest, the establishment didn't impress me. It seemed like a simple space with a bar in the middle of the club. It was fairly dark and the music was loud. I enjoyed all types of music but I never really listened to club music on a regular basis. I admit that it was sort of interesting to hear familiar songs in their altered and remixed form. Kyle, on the other hand, did listen to dance music from time to time, especially at the gym. He immediately started to move his body with the music.
Soon after ten o'clock more people started to arrive. By eleven it was pretty crowded. There were a lot young people there. Some of them appeared to be under the age of eighteen but I'm sure they had been carded at the door just as the three of us had been. I also noticed that there were a lot of guys over the age of twenty-one. As the night progressed there were more than I imagined there would be. I thought that most of the older guys would have avoided the place because of the younger guys. However, my assumption was wrong.
Roger explained that the older guys were there to try their luck with the younger guys. To me, it seemed wrong to be preying on the young. Yet, some of the younger guys seemed to be craving the attention of the older ones.
It seemed like Roger knew practically every guy in the club who was about our age or a little older. We were introduced to a countless amount of people. There were even some women there which I thought a bit strange. I wasn't sure if they were lesbians or straight friends of the gay guys.
"Fag hags," Roger shouted over the music blaring from the speakers.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw an older guy approaching us. He appeared to be in his early thirties. The guy pretty much strutted as if to say "get out of my way" to everyone he passed. He was actually quite handsome and he had a pleasant smile. When he was close to arriving at our table I noticed that the color of his eyes were nearly identical to mine.
"Here comes another one of your friends," I said to Roger.
Roger glanced over his shoulder then looked at us with a puzzled look on his face. "I don't know who that guy is."
The man arrived at our table. "Hey, how are you guys doing tonight?"
In unison we replied, "fine."
"Are you having a good time?"
"Yeah," Roger answered. "Are you?"
"Well, I'm having a much better time now that I've spotted the three best looking guys in the club."
Roger's expression changed from delight to confusion. I laughed and Kyle rolled his eyes.
"What? Can't you guys take a compliment when it's given to you?"
"Sure we can," I replied.
The man extended his hand. "My name is Scott."
We each shook his hand and invited him to sit down. Following each sentence he spoke or heard he gulped the bottle of beer that he clutched in his hand as if his life depended on it.
"Why aren't you boys drinking?"
"We're only eighteen years old," Roger laughed.
"Oh, I see. I can probably get you guys something to drink, if you want," he offered. "I know a couple of the bartenders."
"That's okay," I replied. "I don't think we want to get thrown out on our first night."
"You've never been here before!" Scott exclaimed.
"No," Kyle responded. "Well, Roger has."
"They are no longer Mickey's virgin boys," Roger declared with enthusiasm.
Scott chuckled and gulped the last of his beer.
Throughout the night I had noticed that some songs had the crowd running to the dance floor while others hardly registered much of a response at all. Yet, I was in awe of the fact that a Madonna song started to play and practically everyone rushed to the dance floor. I swear they nearly knocked each other over on the way. You would have thought that someone had yelled "fire" and the crowd sought safety on the dance floor rather than outside. And Roger was one of them. He jumped from his seat, said, "I'm going to dance" and disappeared before we could even respond.
Being eighteen years old, Madonna had been a part of my life as long as I could remember. I greatly admired her business acumen and career longevity. I could also certainly appreciate her talent as a visual artist and entertainer. Yet, I didn't quite understand what the fuss was all about.
For the most part, my musical inclinations leaned a little more toward rock than anything else. I enjoyed Radiohead, Marilyn Manson, Nine Inch Nails and Sheryl Crow more than the thumping beats and bass of the club tracks assaulting my ears in Mickey's. I liked to dance around and have a good time just as much as the next person, but I pretty much decided that I was going to stay glued to my seat for the evening.
Roger's sudden departure left Kyle and me alone to be entertained by the not so charming stranger Scott.
"So you're both eighteen, huh?"
"Yes," I smiled. "How old are you?"
"Thirty-four," he answered. "Your friend said that you were no longer virgin boys, is that true?"
"This is our first time at a gay club," I explained.
"What about with each other?"
"What?" Kyle asked with an offended tone.
"The two of you. You're both very hot boys. You guys fuck around with each other?"
"We're boyfriends," I responded.
Scott leaned back in his seat and exclaimed," damn! I would love to watch you guys fuck each other."
I looked at Kyle. He was looking at me with an expression of amusement and shock. Neither one of us said anything.
The stranger folded his arms on the table and leaned in closer toward us.
"I'd like to get me some of that action." He reached out and touched my arm. "You both have hot bodies. And I bet those jeans hold a nice package, too."
"Sorry, we're not interested," I quickly replied as polite as possible.
"Yeah," Kyle interjected. "Sorry, dude, but no."
Scott suddenly looked confused and then he laughed. "Dude," he mocked. "Is that a regular word in your daily vocabulary? Are you trying to pass yourselves off as being straight, not gay, not even bi-sexual, but curious, as long as nobody knows kind of guys?"
"No!" Kyle replied. He was becoming more irritated by Scott. I knew that the situation had to settle down quickly or Kyle would soon be screaming in the guy's face.
"If you're a fag, just like me, then what's the harm in the three of us having some fun together?"
"Because we're not interested," Kyle shouted. "Get it?"
"Hey," Scott smiled as he looked at his empty bottle. "I'm going to get another beer. You guys think about it and let me know when I get back."
"We already told you that we're not interested," I said.
Scott waved his hand through the air and ignored what I said. "Seriously, think about it. It would be hot. You guys will have a good time. I don't live far from here. We can go to my place and fuck our brains out."
As the guy turned to walk toward the bar Kyle jumped out of his seat. I quickly grabbed his arm. "Calm down," I warned. "He's a drunk asshole. There's no reason for us to act like assholes, too."
Kyle sat down. "He's going to be a sorry, drunk asshole if he doesn't leave us alone," he retorted.
Roger returned to the table. He was sweaty and smiling. "Are you guys going to sit here the whole damn night?"
"We might leave soon before Kyle gets into a fight and gets us thrown out," I replied.
Roger looked puzzled. "What?"
"That guy, Scott is a major asshole. He wants Marcus and me to go to his place."
"To fuck the night away," I added.
"Do you blame him?" Roger asked as he sat down.
"He won't take no for an answer," Kyle complained. He threw his hands up in the air. "And here he comes!"
Scott arrived at the table with two beers. As he was about to sit down Roger kicked the chair away from the table. "We need some privacy, please."
The chair did not slide far across the floor. It abruptly came to a halt at Scott's feet. He seemed quite bewildered then angry.
"Yeah, we need to be alone for a while," Kyle explained.
Scott placed his beers on the table. "Why are you guys being so bitchy?"
"Sorry, we don't mean to be rude," I replied. "We seriously need to talk about something in private."
"As long as it involves you, your boyfriend and me in bed together," he grinned with intoxication. "Hell, bring your friend, too. We'll have our own little party."
"Please leave," Roger pleaded.
Scott reached for the two beers and one bottle crashed to the floor. A club employee magically arrived on the scene as if he had anticipated the mess.
Then a bouncer showed up on the scene. He asked if there was a problem then questioned Scott about how much alcohol he had to drink.
"I'm fine," he muttered. "The bottle was wet."
"Looks like you've had too much to drink, to me."
"Whatever," Scott replied with disgust and rolled his eyes.
The bouncer grabbed Scott's elbow.
"He won't leave us alone," Roger complained. "And he is drunk. Just look at him."
The bouncer nodded his head and started to pull Scott away from the table. Soon another bouncer arrived and helped the other escort Scott out of the club.
"See," Roger smiled. "Now he's out of the picture."
"What a fucking idiot," Kyle chuckled.
"Oh, well," I shrugged. "Welcome to Mickey's!"
Once we had returned to my house Kyle and I sat by the pool drinking Corona. We briefly discussed the events of the evening then retreated to my bedroom.
Kyle laughed as he caressed my arm. "You're so hot. You have such a muscular body. I bet you have a nice package in those jeans, too."
I shook my head and smiled. "You wanna find out?"
He kissed me and whispered in my ear. "Yeah. Show me what you got?"
"We can spend the rest of the night fucking our brains out."
Kyle moaned and pushed me on the bed. He removed my tank top and started to unbutton my jeans. "Yeah, let's fuck our brains out." He started to kiss and lick my torso as he worked his way down to my crotch. He pulled my jeans off and my erect cock slapped against my stomach.
"You slut," he grinned. "You didn't even wear underwear."
I looked at the moonlight shining brightly in Kyle's eyes and smiled. He looked so beautiful in the dim light of the room. His skin glistened as he took off his clothes then climbed into bed. The warmth of his body was as much of a turn on as his physique. I hugged him close to me and held him in a tight embrace for a couple minutes just to feel him against me and smell his natural scent.
I suppose the importance and urgency of sex had started to ebb from our relationship. It no longer seemed necessary to fuck nearly every time we were together. Sex was not the solidifying reason that we were a couple. It was love that allowed our friendship to develop into a relationship.
We were content to simply be together in each other's arms.