DISCLAIMER ========== This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights (copyright (c) 2004 - psun@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males: - if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.
And any comments - brickbats or bouquets, send them over to psun@hotmail.com And if you find that you like what you're reading, visit my page at http://www.geocities.com/savante_2002
Thankfully, making an escape hadn't been a problem since Alex surprisingly gave up the chase after a while. It made me somewhat suspicious for a few moments before I dismissed it. There was no need to be paranoid. The man wasn't insane, he wouldn't be caught dead running desperately after some guy for two blocks.
My knuckles still stung from their enconter with Alex's steel-hard jaw, felt like I'd rammed it into a brick wall. I gingerly flexed my fingers and felt sharp pricks of pain shooting up my arm. "Fuck."
Standing two blocks away, it was obviously worthless trying to get back into the club knowing Alex was prowling inside no doubt waiting for another go at me so I decided to call it a night and headed home.
As I entered my apartment loft, I didn't bother switching on the lights and headed for the bedroom. In the living room, an antique brass lamp by the coffee table provided a dim illumination enough for me to find my way. Months back, Alex had gotten the lamp for a song at some flea market. In spite of the fact that he was independently wealthy now, he still loved the challenge of a good bargain.
It was difficult enough seeing him at the club without having reminders of him in my own apartment. Although I'd left a message for him to retrieve his belongings, he stubbornly refused to pick then up, no doubt stubbornly clinging to the idea that I'd give in and take him back - therefore saving him the problem of packing. When I'd kicked him out, Alex had only taken an overnight bag. No doubt he was wealthy enough to replenish his whole wardrobe if he'd wanted to.
So my wardrobe still had his designer clothes in them, the sleek Italian boots he'd gotten in Milan, the lingering scent of his spicy cologne. According to Breakup Rules 101, it would have been prudent to have gotten rid of everything and it was always at the back of my mind to donate his clothes to the nearest shelter but I found that I couldn't. An experiment at removing some of his belongings left a gaping hole in my wardrobe - and left me with such a keening sense of loss that I found myself stunned. When had I turned into some wimpy, co-dependent loser?
Flipping on the lights in the adjoining wardrobe, I discarded my lenses and picked up my reliable horn-rims. God, It was torture trying to shove those plastic things into my eyes. The things we do for superficial beauty.
Looking up into the built-in mirror, I barely stifled a smile. Tight tees ala International Male definitely wasn't my look. Sure, I had the build to look okay in them but it was difficult to trying to pair my serious features, my respectable horn-rims with a neon-coloured tight tee that practically yelled come-get-me. All of this just to land someone? There had to be a better way of surviving in gayland. Shaking my head in disgust, I shrugged off the shirt and tossed it into the laundry bin. Seconds later, it was joined by my stonewashed jeans.
"Looking good, Sutton."
At the sound of the appreciative comment, I froze in front of the mirror, my heart suddenly turning cartwheels in my chest. Phantom voices in the night would have had me reaching out for the baseball bat by my bedside but I knew that voice well enough. Cautiously I turned my gaze in the direction of the voice towards the relative gloom of my bedroom - where a pair of cool green eyes watched from the dark.
"Shit, Alex, you scared the shit out of me."
Like a dangerous jungle cat stalking its prey, he watched me silently without speaking. God was in an exceptionally generous mood when Alexandre Verga was made, that was for sure. Sinfully good looks in spades, dark, heavily lashed green eyes matched with a full-lipped sensual mouth, a strong jaw line - now peppered with day-old stubble - and classically high cheekbones. I noticed that he'd shrugged on the sleek, tailored knee-length black coat I'd gotten him for Christmas - and damned he looked good. The seconds ticked by before he slowly slid out from his perch on the bay window seat and came toward me. Those sexy lips curled in a wicked little smile and his perfect white teeth flashed brightly like a warning in the dark. "From that tight ass, bloody unlikely."
Alexandre Verga had obviously killed off all my instincts of self-preservation. When faced with a musclebound ex-boyfriend with a killer instinct, I didn't do the obvious - and get the hell out. Like one of those moronic blondes in slasher flicks, I walked inexorably towards my doom. Instead I faced him, a man who could kill with his bare hands, dressed in only my briefs. Faced with such a decision, I headed for the laundry to retrieve my shirt. "Alex, what the hell.."
The man never let me finish my sentence. It was getting to be quite a habit. From the slow, menacing prowler in my bedroom, he suddenly kicked up the tempo, swept across to me and had me pinned on the wardrobe door in seconds. Before I could even make a comment on the amazing tricks he'd picked up in some God-forsaken desert war, he'd inexplicably changed his tactics and had his sexy lips crushed against mine to shut me up.
Quick as a flash, his hot lips tracked their way up my jawline to breathe warmly into my ear. "It's been a long time, sweetheart." One hard, muscled thigh eased itself between mine and I let out a soft moan. It was difficult not to think of his randy third leg when the hard, thick length was pulsing against my thigh.
As his magical fingers threaded their way down my back, sliding down across my naked skin, I struggled in his embrace. Always a smart man, he knew that he would lose his advantage once I started thinking with my head, and not my dick. Just as he reached for me again, I twisted my head aside and mouthed out softly. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Shutting you up."
Alexandre never needed any tricks up his sleeve for that when he had that amazingly talented mouth of his. Easy enough to conjure up images of Alex backing me up against the door, kissing me voraciously like a starving man - since he'd done it in sinmilar variations so many times before. Whatever problems we had together, our sex life had always been stellar. Even as a flood of X-rated memories filled my brain, I stubbornly pushed him away. "How did you get in here? I changed my locks."
Stunned at my comment, he allowed me to shove him away, raising his dark brows. "Is that some kinda cheap insult?"
Okay, I might have forgotten his uncanny ability to magically phase through bolted doors. It was all part and parcel of Alex Verga, super-macho military man. "Get out. I'm calling the police."
"Try it. I could have you tied up and naked in the time you took to dial the number," he said simply.
It wasn't an idle threat since I'd actually seen him do so a few months back at an unsightly bar brawl. In a spectacle worthy of a John Woo martial arts flick, the three burly desperadoes were despatched as easily as if batting away an annoying fly. The hard, sculpted muscles in his thick arms weren't only for show. Afterward, he'd only turned back to his beer without second glance as if nothing had happened. As I moved away and reached for a towel, he laughed, a low, almost teasing tone. "Are you shy, sweetheart?"
"Shut up," I mumbled in annoyance as I tied the towel around my waist. Not only did I feel miserably vulnerable, I was also half-naked in briefs which certainly wasn't the way I was hoping we'd have our confrontation. So I was a prude, I was proud of it unlike Alex who dropped his pants at the least provocation.
Instead of moving on to the next subject, he saw fit to remind me. "I've seen your bare ass before."
"Not recently," I slashed out meanly.
He smiled again, baring surprisingly boyish dimples. "So you want me to rectify the situation?"
Ever comfortable with partial nudity, Alex reached down to tug on his tight black tee and I yelled. "No!" It was difficult enough talking to him without the distraction of his naked body. Perfectly sane, logical women were known to go hog-wild like a band of obsessive, sex-crazed Maenads at the sight of his naked, well-muscled, perfectly-proportioned body. Not exactly the picture of sanity, I was tempted to run along with them.
He let out a deep sigh. "You're not going to make this easy, are you."
"Why should I?" I turned back to the closet and peeled out a white T-shirt and shorts to slip on.
With a quiet nod, he acknowledged the truth of what I said. "Fine. What do you want me to say then?"
"There's nothing that you haven't said, Alex." It was the truth after all. When I'd walked in on the both of them in flagrante delicto, I'd done the mature thing, stupid honourable me, made a polite request for them to leave and then stalked out of the apartment. In retrospect, I wish I'd been able to shed my conservative middle-class sensibilities and just go hog-shit crazy, throwing vases around, breaking the antique table and wrecking Drake's exquisite thousand dollar nose job. It was what Alex himself would have done. Thinking of what Alex would have done if I'd been the one caught cheating on him left me with a shudder. Though wild rumours abounded about his disreputable past, he rarely spoke of what he did then - and then later in the Corps - but the little I gleaned from him left me hoping that I'd always remain on his good side. If at all possible.
Ever the optimist, he'd tried to corner me when he came for some of his clothes but I'd skilfully managed to avoid him - albeit by skulking down the back stairs like a common thief. With the wealth he'd accumulated, he could certainly afford a suitably large, well-appointed penthouse if that was what he wanted but according to the grapevine, he'd gotten himself checked-in at a nearby hotel.
If he was thinking of a warm welcome back for the prodigal son, he had another thing coming.
"Stop. Come on, babe, I made a god-damned mistake. How much longer do you want me to pay?" Alex didn't make any move to get closer to me but stood at the entrance to my bedroom, looming dangerously. Although his words were conciliatory, his vividly green eyes flashed in growing annoyance.
For what it was worth, it was the closest he'd ever come to a plea and it surprised me. The Alex Verga I knew didn't plead, he bellowed out commands and shot out orders to be followed. "You made it clear you didn't want anything permanent between us. Called it soppy, domesticated hetero shit. What has changed?"
"I've changed. I hate being alone without you. I hate coming home and not have you waiting for me. I hate standing in the bar without you by my side."
Such blatant home-spun domesticity jarred with his reckless, love-em-and-leave-em playa image. A few months back, it was all I wanted to hear from him but now I turned to stare at him. "Where the hell did all this come from?"
Alex looked at me with those beautiful green eyes for a moment before replying. "It took me at least six minutes after you left before I realized what a stupid fool I'd been. I was letting go of the man I want to spend the rest of my life with for a stupid, meaningless fuck."
To say I was astonished at his revelation would be the understatement of the year as it would have been easier for him to slam a solid brickwall into my face. It was if someone else had taken possession of Verga's sinfully sexy, well-muscled low-fat body for a day. Not only had he singlemindedly thrown all his previous anti-monogamy doctrines out the window, he'd come just that close to making a commitment, something that had always seemed to be an anathema to him. Being in a committed relationship seemed like a cruel and pointless punishment for him - or at least for the Alex I knew before. Closing my eyes, I backed away from the dark, handsome Latino. Obviously the health freak had slurped down his protein juice the wrong way this morning. "What are you trying to do? Are you trying to drive me insane? I can't have you barging in at 2 in the morning wanting to get back together."
"You wouldn't listen otherwise. You don't return my calls, you change your mail address, you run when you see me coming." Never one to concede defeat, he pointed that out as he followed me doggedly into our bedroom. I mean, my bedroom, really. Instinct told me to kick him out immediately but I knew that short of developing super strength, I wouldn't be able to oust Alex from the room willingly. It set my mind to thinking even as I absently picked up the coat he'd carelessly dropped on the floor.
Seeing the habitual move I made, he couldn't help making his point. "And damn it, you haven't changed."
"That's what you'd like, wouldn't you?" The coat fell from my hands as if I'd been burnt and I turned swiftly with a heated glare. "That I'd be dependable old Sutton, the guy you could depend on to get dinner ready while you play hide the salami with the neighbour. And his 17 year old son."
"There is no neighour and there is no..." The anger in my voice only sparked off a similar reaction in Alex as he marched straight up to me, gritting his teeth tightly as he spoke. "Fuck that. After you, there was only Drake. It was the one time."
"Sez you. Look, it's not entirely your fault, I knew what I was getting into. Alex Verga. The man who's been there. Done it. Fucked them all." It was one of the reasons we'd first met after all. If Verga didn't have a reputation as a cum-laden, testosterone-charged bull, I certainly wouldn't have marched up to him with a lewd, blatant proposition and he certainly wouldn't have accepted so easily.
"Shut up." The bright emerald green of his eyes darkened in agression as he narrowed his gaze at me. His ham-sized fists clenched tightly at his sides as he fought to maintain his burgeoning temper. If I were anyone else, I'm sure I'd be smashed to a pulp on the wall right about now. "I know my word means shit to you now but it's the truth. We had that stupid fight, I don't even remember what it was about, I stormed off for a drink and then Drake came along. It was meaningless. It was stupid. Look, for what it's worth, I'm ..."
"Don't apologize. It's not you. Just get the hell out," I said quietly.
Alex was never a man to give up without a fight. "You're going to listen as I say this and I'll be damned if I'm going to grovel. I never could say it to you before because I never believed that it could happen to me but it has. I love you, Sutton." He said it coolly and firmly, his strong legs spread wide apart ready to take on any comers. Despite his cool, calm, kick-ass demeanour, I could see that there was a shitload of nerves written all over his telling green eyes.
It wasn't the first time those words had come between us. Foolishly blinded by a first love, I'd said it to him hoping beyond hope for an affirmation but he'd never said it in return. The words didn't seem to matter that much to him at that time. Only words he'd said, only words and nothing mattered as much as action. Then he'd put those lips on mine and I'd forget all about it. Those simple words meant the world to me however, even now after all we'd been through, and my knees trembled like a giddy schoolboy's to my utter amazement. "You're only saying that."
"You know I wouldn't lie about this." Keeping his gaze intent on mine, he continued earnestly. "Are you going to let one stupid mistake like this destroy what we had together? If you really think that you can never forgive me, that you could never learn to love me again, that everything that happened between us means absolutely nothing, just say the word and I'll leave."
I was silent. What more could I say?
"Sutton. Please."
Finding myself unable to look him in the face, I turned away and whispered softly, "Get out, Alex."
This time he didn't make another move. As always, the man moved like the wind. And like the wind, his passing left me in the cold.