THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB Chad
By and copyright Lady Poetess
Visit http://www.egroups.com/group/gentlemens-club
Disclaimer: This story is fictitious and any resemblance to anyone real or imagined is coincidental.
Note: Okay, I admit a real life prince inspired the character of William here (Nate, you can stop begging now for this guy's story), but I made him older -- I always imagined that he would be more interesting when he is older (say, twenty-eight), and here he is. There is also a bit of discontinuity here. Chad's story takes place before Greg's, but I wrote Greg's story first, and the latter, Greg's late cousin was called Jude. My mistake -- Jude's story was changed in a subsequent revision, but I never gotten to replacing Jude's name with Chad's in Greg's story.
PROLOGUE
Then
"You look lost."
Crown Prince of Eltheminia, Prince William Dorial de Hazburg, looked at the man who had just addressed him. He looked down at himself, and then at the man. It came as a shock to realize that the other man wasn't addressing him in fearful worship or fawning servility. He shouldn't be surprised, of course, for he wasn't supposed to be the Prince, not now at least.
Still, it took some getting used to; the fact that life outside the aristocratic and old moneyed circles meant a life of blissful incognito.
It was irresponsible of him to just take off from his home without informing his retainers or bodyguards or other annoying hanger-on two days ago. But now, two days in hectic New York City, he felt as if he was just a face in the crowd. It was a strange feeling being nobody, and it exhilarated him. Just a week, he told himself, just one week to indulge in this irresponsible escape before returning to his gilded cage.
The man now addressing him was young, twenty-five at most. William recognized him, a strange fellow who came up to the hotel lobby he was staying at in his bicycle and knapsack. William had sat at the bistro, watching the man yesterday as the man met the bellhop. The two men exchanged a hushed discussion, and William saw money exchanged hands.
The familiar brown knapsack was slung at the back of the man. William wondered what was in it. Drugs? His attention slowly shifted from the knapsack to the man himself, and William decided that he liked what he saw. Not bad really -- the other man was tall and slim, nothing outstanding, but his face was strangely attractive.
Another luxury William had was that, being a mere youngest son, he had the freedom to indulge his sexuality. He could have anyone he wanted, any sex, and he did, provided he was discreet. And he always had a weakness for vulnerable- looking men.
And this man aroused all his paternal instincts. The man's face was elfin in features, with his eyes and nose and lips starkly rendered in a face distinguished only in its fine yet well-chiseled structure. It was the face of an elf, one of those demonic incubi that seduced sleeping females in friezes he studied in his past time. Separated one by one, the eyes, the lips, and those nose were ordinary, but put together, the entire package was spectacular.
"Yes, as it happens, I'm lost," he said, fascinated despite himself. Those eyes -- he decided -- those eyes drew his protective instincts, for they radiated wariness and resignation of a young man forced to grow old earlier than he should. And those lines on the young man's forehead and around those eyes only added depth to an otherwise boyish face.
"Where do you want to go? I can show you the way."
William resisted the temptation to take the question beyond its surface value. "As a matter of fact, I have no idea where I'm supposed to go."
The other man shrugged and made to climb on his bicycle.
Suddenly William didn't want the other man to go away, not this soon. "Wait," he called.
The man paused and turned around curiously. "What is it?"
"Can I know what's in your bag?" William asked impulsively.
The man smiled indulgently. "I have to get going," he said.
"Two hundred dollars," William said in sudden urgency. "Okay, five hundred dollars if you'll let me tag along with you for the rest of the day."
The man straightened and looked at him curiously. "You're fucking me."
I hope, William thought. "Indulge a very bored man with too much money," he said.
The other man hesitated. "Okay," he said, "but you'll get yourself a bicycle first. I don't want you slowing me down."
William bought a mountain bike at an exorbitant price ten minutes later. And then he was off on an adventure indeed.
He could only watch in amazement as the other man, whose name was Chad, sped across from streets to streets in rapid speed. Even William, who fenced, climbed mountains, trekked, played squash and tennis, and swam, had a hard time keeping up. He was panting and drinking from a bottle of Evian when he reached the Central Park where Chad met whom he called his cohorts.
You learned new things everyday, William thought in amazement, as he watched the cohorts haggled and argued and bartered their trade items. Who would've thought people like these existed, people who made a killing by buying tickets and VIP passes and other much needed entertainment items and then reselling them to hotel concierges for profit?
And Chad was good. From the mysterious knapsack came tickets to long sold- out Broadway shows, basketball games, baseball games, and even backstage passes for concerts, for which he used to viciously barter for items of similar values.
"I needed five seats for Haley's show," Chad snapped military-style, "I'll give you these front row seats for the NBA game."
"No fucking way. Throw in the tickets for the Streisand too," the cohort Chad addressed replied just as curtly.
William watched, really fascinated, and noted that the cohorts never stopped speaking, conducting simultaneous haggling with more than one cohort even, their hands constantly exchanging those precious tickets and passes.
And he couldn't help noticing the long, slender fingers of Chad moving in elegant dance, snapping and pushing tickets across the table, never stopping, always moving. William wondered how it felt like to have those fingers moving on him, frantic and always in motion, touching him, feeling him. His own skin burned from the imagined touch, and he envied the table surface that received Chad's touch.
He stood back, watching the way Chad's trousers stretched tight across well- formed buttocks as the man leaned forward in his dealings. Those thighs were well muscled from all those cycling, no doubt, and their steely strength and muscularity promised tantalizing things. William licked his now-dry lips as he imagined those powerful thighs around him, gripping his torso tightly as he urged William to pump him harder. No doubt Chad would be tight -- anyone with those taut buns would have to be tight.
William fidgeted, his cock throbbing like hell in his pants. He tried to drive away the erotic images that were causing the front of his jeans to bulge obscenely. But hell, he wanted to so badly bite into those tight buttocks, letting his tongue lick the cleft, rimming the groove between those tight cheeks slowly down the hairy furrowed pucker, where he would then lap at.
"Okay, I'm done," Chad said, shattering William's reverie.
He collected his items and stuffed them into his knapsack. After exchanging goodbye in good-natured banter that were so at odd with their earlier argumentative nature, Chad gestured at William to follow him.
William was alert enough to stand behind his bicycle, shielding somewhat his hard-on from Chad. But it was hard to cycle when his cock was so hard that he could hammer nails with it, and especially when Chad was ahead of him, those shapely buttocks moving in smooth, suggestive rhythm with each pedaling of the wheels.
Chad's next stop was at the Marriott's where the concierge was desperate enough to pay the high price for some tickets for the Limp Bizkit concert. William excused himself while the other two were haggling, ran to the men's room, and jerked himself off.
"I had a wonderful, if tiring day," William said that evening when they wheeled their bicycles through Central Park.
"I hope you get your money's worth," Chad said.
"I did," William said truthfully. Chad had provided him a wonderful distraction. The man was like a dynamo -- full of energy. William had lost track of how many hotels they went to and fro, how many cohorts Chad had met, and how many scalpers Chad had dealt with for his supplies. "I'm impressed you know so many scalpers and fencers," he said.
Chad looked at him in an inscrutable expression, then said guardedly, "Well, I was born at the same area as they."
"Here?"
"No, the streets." Chad smiled suddenly, his face breaking into a million sunburst. "God, you really are naïve."
William was dumbstruck at the abrupt transformation of Chad from weary streetwise rat to an earnest, cheeky lad, all in one grin. The lines on his forehead and around his eyes now crinkled merrily as if they were laugh lines, and Chad looked boyish and rakish.
His heart hurt, and his cock burned. William swallowed. "I don't go out much." Unless with a heavy retinue of security officers, that is, and even then he was always on a predetermined schedule and plan he had to adhere to strictly. Today was the first time he traveled outside Eltheminia impromptu. "And when I come to New York it's often to the galleries and museums and other places where I don't see things like today."
"Well, you managed to bargain pretty well with Tim," Chad said.
William winced inside at his attempt to haggle for a stolen Rolex from Tim the fencer. Tim was six feet eight, probably three hundred pounds in weight, and William half-expected those meaty arms to close around his neck throughout the whole haggling session. He managed to draw the price down a hundred bucks, not impressive really (he had seen Chad drove down prices up to five hundred bucks), but considering his novice status, he thought he did well. Part of him -- the princely part -- rebelled at the thought of haggling for things like a shopkeeper, but he wouldn't deny he had a great time.
Tim even clapped him in the back and called him a good sport.
"I must admit, for an uptight rich doofus you did pretty well," Chad said. "You're a good sport."
"I was good at basketball," he said modestly, still reveling inside over the way he helped Chad's team won in the evening basketball match at a basketball court in a part of town that would give his father a heart attack if he knew William was playing there. Shirtless like a commoner. But he was glad -- his skills at the game made him cheered and made one of the gang by Chad's friends.
Today he was one of the guys, an experience new to him, yet it made him feel light headed and warm inside.
Chad only grinned wider and punched William's shoulder playfully.
They found themselves standing near William's hotel. And suddenly William had no idea what to say. He didn't want this evening to end. He wanted to ask Chad to come upstairs with him.
"I gotta go," Chad said quietly.
William wanted so badly to interpret the man's subdued and weak smile as reluctance to leave. "I -- I had a great time," he said lamely.
"For five hundred bucks you've better," Chad said, and then pushed his bicycle away. He turned to look at William, then pointed his finger at him in one of those mystifying buddy gesture William was only starting to be cognizant with.
William stood there in the dying light, watching the man until Chad turned around the corner, out of his sight.
He sighed, pushed his hands into his pockets. Then frowned. He started when he pulled out five hundred dollars from his right pocket, the very notes he gave Chad. He started running down the street Chad disappeared to and shouting out his name like a madman. "Chad! Chad! CHAAADDDD!" he shouted when he couldn't run anymore, staggering and panting down the middle of an unfamiliar street.
But Chad was gone.
ONE
Now
Prince William was bored. He tuned out the incessant babbling of the man before him, carefully nodding every ten seconds to give an impression of attention, and counted the minutes before he could flee this dreary function. If he were selfish, he would have wished the moron who thought up this fucking Exhibition of Eltheminian Arts -- in such a grand scale too -- would take a long walk off a window ledge. He should be pleased that his country was getting such an exposure, but fuck it, if that meant he had to take up dreary official functions like these for so many nights, he would be selfish.
His parents had sent him here for the very reason that he was restless in Eltheminia. He couldn't drive away the frustration mounting in him, no matter how much physical activity he threw himself into. He wasn't sleeping, and he wasn't eating, and the Queen had the idea of maybe new scenery would do her youngest stepson some good.
So here he was, even more bored to death. He was so close to New York City, and he hated the memories of a smiling man and his knapsack that haunted his sleep. What was his name? Chad, that was it. Chad and that one day of freedom became synonymous, and William wanted both with a craving that alarmed even he. Weeks after his return, he found himself fantasizing about bringing Chad over, and Chad would be so grateful of his deliverance from poverty that he would get on his knees and spread those tight delicious buttocks for William.
Oh yes, those buttocks. William had always been a butt man, and even now, the memory of Chad's impressive assets was giving him a hard-on here and now.
He had caved in on week three after his return, and hired a man to look for Chad and bring him to William. But the man returned empty-handed, except for news that the cops might have arrested the man the Prince was looking for.
William had shattered six of his priced wine bottles in his unreasonable rage then, but he feared he has broken something more lasting that day.
And now, for one year, he was finally back in New York. There was no doubt his parents knew that this time, he wasn't coming back for a long time. He wanted to find Chad. He didn't know what to do with the man beyond the obvious, but hey, he'd figure it out the moment he had Chad. He gently disengaged himself from the people around him and walked as fast as civilization would permit in a social function.
He didn't care where he ended up of course, but when he turned around a corner, he found himself standing before the kitchen. What the hell -- he pushed open the doors.
"There you are! Here, take these -- " one of the staff, wearing a chef's hat, started to say, then stopped. "Are you lost?"
William grinned. "Hi Chad. Looks like destiny does want us to meet again."
"Do I know you?" the man asked.
Chad, he had to be Chad! The same dark brown hair, the same lines on the forehead and around those eyes and the same way William's blood boiled in sudden lust. "Let go of me!" the man protested as William's fingers tightened around his arms. "Damn it, where are you dragging me?"
To bed, William wanted to say. Where he would make Chad pay for daring to forget him. Hell, was he that forgettable? He was a prince - he was a handsome, eligible prince! But now was not the time to sort these things out, not when the eyes of the media and the society were on them all.
"I'm sorry, I forgot my manners," he said as graciously as he could. "Maybe you can allow me to make amends by dancing the waltz with me."
It was a controversial invitation, for the Prince was flaunting taboo and making a very public statement about his sexual preferences. Maybe tomorrow he would regret it, and the ambassador would rail at him, but tonight, he lived.
"Say yes, Chad." He caressed the name, letting the other man know of his barely restrained desire.
"Why are you doing this? You're embarrassing the both of us," Chad hissed.
"So you do remember me," William said, pleased, tugging forcefully at Chad's right hand.
The contact sent heat fire surging through every inch of him. He saw Chad's eyes widened, the red flush creeping up the neck where the collar didn't cover, and felt his confidence soar higher. William drew the man's forehand to his lips, kissing it, letting his lips lingering longer than protocol demanded. And he gave the hand a quick lick before he lifted his free hand and snapped his fingers.
On cue the waltz played. The stunned crowd now resumed life, taking to the dance floor of the ballroom. William smiled wolfishly, leading his victim to the floor.
Curse his luck, Chad thought, panicking inside. What the hell was this man doing? Chad would lose his job for this. Not that William would care, would he? After all, as it turned out the man whom Chad still thought of fondly like a pleasant memory turned out to be a fucking prince of some remote island in the Mediterranean!
He cringed inside when the Prince's left hand went around his waist and the large palm settled on the curve if his back right above the swell of his buttocks. And they were standing too close, so close that Chad could feel the other man's body heat burning him. William was handsome, a golden sun of a gorgeous man. The man's clear blue eyes and long, feminine eyelashes were devastating when they bore into him with such searing lust in their depths. William's well-chiseled, almost feminine cherubic face was tempered masculine with an aristocratic nose and a smile that radiated pure sex. And there was no denying the way the Prince's broad shoulders stretched the fit of the white shirt underneath the black suit, or the well-muscled thighs encased in dark silk that glided the dance floor with deadly grace.
Chad had danced with a few people before, but he was never aware of his partners' sexuality the way he was now being burned by William's virility. His hand, encased in William's grip, burned, as did the area where William's palm branded the flesh of Chad's back as his. They danced, and Chad turned, and found himself face-to-face with William in a tight embrace.
"I missed you," William said.
"I'll lose my job for this," Chad told him.
"I'm worth losing your job for." William broke off their embrace to let Chad turn a pirouette.
"I am trying hard to be clean and earn a decent living," Chad said, his voice barely trembling. "I don't think you understand."
"Why not? I'm human, just like you, and I have a job too." William shook his head wryly. "I'm an architect. What? You think I spend my days and nights in drunken revelry?"
"Look, let me go please. I'll see you at a later place?"
"The gardens after this waltz."
At that, Chad suddenly pushed William away. William staggered, and Chad just walked away, disappearing into the throng. Just like before.
"No," William said. He was obsessed and losing it, but he didn't care. "You won't get away this time."
TWO
William stood like a golden god in the garden path, the moonlight dancing on his golden hair like moonspun glitter. Chad took a deep, steadying breath, not daring to take any step further. They stood there in the garden, he nerves raw with nervousness and anticipation of the unknown, and the Prince's face inscrutable and cruel even.
This was so different from the laughing, awkward man he had met so long ago, Chad realized. This was a different William, a cold, distant, even cruel deity far from the man Chad had met and thought of always, fondly. As cliched as it seemed, he doubted he knew this William.
"Are you just going to stand there?" the Prince spoken, his well-modulated tenor cutting through the silence so abruptly that Chad jumped.
Chad couldn't walk away despite his mind screaming at him too. William's blue eyes, so blue they pulled him into their depths, held him in thrall. Chad didn't want to look away from the shadows on William's face, from the sight of moonlight rendering the Prince's elegant, angelic face into ethereal beauty. He could almost smell the other man's sexual hunger, and he was afraid, oh yes. But he was also slowly becoming aroused by the sensation of being wanted so badly by this beautiful man.
"I'll say it's odd. You don't know me," he managed to say.
"Yes, there's that." William now walked towards him. "But I have you indebted to me now. I want to claim that debt."
Now Chad was terrified. The man was too close, too close, and this was worse than their waltz because they were both alone. "You just helped me open the locked door," Chad whispered.
"I let you walk out of the office," William said, his voice cold. "I say you owe me a lot."
"So what do you want from me?" Chad asked, even as he -- they both -- knew the answer.
William didn't answer. He placed his second finger under Chad's chin and tilted the man's head up to look at him. He let his left second finger rub the contour of Chad's dry lower lip, tracing the full curve. Chad's lips parted involuntarily, maybe instinctively, and William let the finger slip inside. Chad let his tongue graze the finger; then he sucked at it gently. Then the finger was gone, and now his lips were pressed against William's. Chad could feel William tremble, and he reveled in the man's barely controlled sexual violence. William was gentle, however, as he nibbled at Chad's lower lip in between tasting him, kissing him with more tenderness than Chad had ever received in his life.
He barely noticed William pulling his suit down his shoulders, or he pushing William's suit back and fumbling at William's shirt buttons.
"Shit, too many buttons," Chad said, laughing softly when his fingers slipped again.
William looked down and took hold of Chad's hands. "Forget the buttons," he said, taking Chad's hands and placing them on the heated bulge in his trousers.
Chad swallowed as he felt William's cock throbbed in his palms through the thin trouser fabric. "Talk about a regal scepter," he couldn't help saying in a grin.
William didn't smile; he looked positively feral, as a matter of fact. He grinned wolfishly as he unbuckled Chad's belt, and Chad fumbled with his own trouser fastenings.
"I hope you don't think I'm fast," Chad said in a valiant attempt to add some levity. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be fucked by such a serious man.
"Fast? I hope not," William said, then frowned. "What's the matter? You look pale."
Chad pushed the corners of William's lips up. "I think you should smile more, my prince."
"I'll try," William said, sucking at that finger. He pushed Chad's trousers down the man's thighs, his left hand pressing at the man's buttocks. "God, I have wanted to feel these ever since I first saw you," he gasped, now using both his hands to clench the other man's taut, hard yet soft buttock cheeks. "So tight," he murmured when he felt the man clench those rock hard buns.
Chad was breathing as heavily as William was in their mutual rising heat. He roughly pulled William's zip down, his fingers delving, pushing down the man's shorts and grasping the hard, turgid penis that leapt in his hand. He tugged at it, jerking it off slowly, loving the way the cock oozed smooth, delicious lubricative drops onto his hands. He rubbed the cock slowly, drawing a rough groan of pleasure from William, lathering that penis shiny and well oiled. Then William jerked in his hand, his hands on Chad's buttocks that were rubbing and pinching and caressing now digging painfully into the cleft and pressing Chad closer to him. "Ooh… God!" William gasped, then he placed his forehead on Chad's and they both looked down as his cock throbbed then exploded and gushed hot pearly strands of semen onto Chad's hands and shirt.
Chad laughed weakly now, using both his hands to cup at the Prince's copious ejaculation.
William smiled, genuinely now that his initial sexual heat was worn off slightly. He dipped his finger into the pool of creamy liquid in Chad's cupped hands, and licked the finger before sucking it.
Chad raised his eyebrows when William now lowered his face to Chad's hands. William began licking at his own semen in Chad's hands, lapping and slurping until the Chad's hands were licked clean. William gestured silently, his mouth still full of his own come, for Chad to turn around.
Chad did more than that. He pushed his trousers and shorts off, not caring if anyone could catch them, and straightened his suit on the grass. He went down on all fours, resting his weight on his palms and knees. He heard William kneeling behind him, then felt the man's tongue pushing apart the muscles around his anus. "Oh yes," he gasped when the other man began lapping at his asshole. He felt the prince's semen spilling into his anus from the man's mouth, and shuddered when the rough tongue started moving, stretching his anus in circular motion even as it pushed deep and rubbed against Chad's clenched anal walls. Chad could die of the delicious feel of William's short stubble on those upper lips abrading his buttocks and that on the chin burning his balls. He could hear William inhale too, and then the man resumed his rimming and eating of the ass and buttocks that he seemed to crave. Chad reached for his own hard cock, slowly rubbing himself in his right hand, each time moaning and gasping when William's tongue hit a sensitive spot that sent delicious sparks of pleasure up his spine.
Then he gave a low cry of deprivation when the tongue pulled out, and one of relief when William's cock began stretching him wide, pushing up his anus. Lubricated by his own semen, William's cock penetrated him easily, each inch of entry sending spasms of pain-pleasure shooting over every inch of Chad's being. Then William began pumping, and Chad could only gripped the coat under him, crying in bliss as William began riding him hard and furiously. His own hand pumped his cock fast, in rhythm with William's hard thrusts, then he was coming, screaming in pleasure, and spilling uncontrollably all over the coat. He was vividly aware of William's own orgasm, the man spurting wild, hot torrents of princely semen to burn the heated insides of Chad.
William groaned brokenly, falling heavily onto Chad. They lay there, breathing heavily. Then William rolled off Chad to lie on his back, staring dazedly at the sky.
Chad looked at himself and started laughing.
"What?" William asked, his own smile breaking.
Chad looked at the semen stains on his shirt and on the coat they were both lying on. William had suspicious stains on his own shirt too. "Ben is going to be very angry I have ruined his coat," Chad said when he could stop laughing.
William gave a snort of laughter and pulled Chad into his arms.
THREE
"More pepper," William said. "And a dash of lime for taste would be nice."
"I've never met a guy who is nuts about cooking. Except Greg." Chad dutifully added the pepper and a little limejuice. "If he's here, the both of you would hit it off."
"Impossible, since I'm already yours." Wills grinned. "What?"
"You shouldn't say things like that. It's corny." Chad swallowed his joy and despair Wills' words evoked. "We both know this thing is temporary."
"Okay, temporary it is. But I'm Eltheminian, and we are a bunch of folks who put the French to shame when it comes to being corny." Wills closed his right hand over Chad's left. "I don't care if you say we are temporary, but I am yours for as long as you want me. And maybe even longer than that."
"Don't love me, Wills. I will only hurt you."
"I know. But I like to think I'm up to the hurt. Now, is the chicken ready? The guests will be coming in ten minutes' time."
Chad observed William in action, never ceasing to marvel at how the man conducted himself. "Since I was born, I'm forever under the public eye," Wills had told him. "I soon learned that there's an art to it."
And he could feel the others' unconscious deference to him. He was golden, handsome, and magnetic, and he soon charmed their clients, who had no idea how real his regal stature was. They only saw him as a very charming and flirtatious waiter. Chad wasn't as eloquent as gregarious as Wills and since he was the cook, he kept to the kitchens, but he couldn't help feeling proud of the man.
"You didn't tell him?" It was Jeremy, his cousin's friend who, incidentally, was Chad's boss' client tonight. "It won't be fair to him."
"He's using me to escape his reality. Why shouldn't I use him to escape mine?"
Jeremy sighed. "Oh Chad, everyone can see that he's crazy about you. He actually puffs up like a proud hubby whenever someone complimented the chef. I guess that somehow along the game the both of you are playing, the poor man has fallen hard."
"It's more complicated than that, Jeremy." Chad let his weariness escape with a sigh. "Even if I do love him, which I don't," he insisted, "there's no future for us."
"Why not?"
"He's the errant Prince of Eltheminia, the third one." It was little compensation to see Jeremy's stunned look.
"Knew he looked familiar," Jeremy said, recovering quickly. "Jesus, Chad, you really have gotten yourself in a fix now."
"I know," Chad said softly.
Indeed, William was having the time of his life that night and the week after. He wrote an email to his parents using his laptop, telling them that he was safe. His fingers paused as he read what he typed: Dear Father. He hesitated; he had always excluded his stepmother with whom he had a cordial but never warm relationship. This time, however, it didn't feel right.
Dear Father and Mother, he amended his greeting after a moment's reflection. He continued:
I am sorry to put the both of you through this, but I hope it'll be small compensation that I am okay in America. Who am I kidding? I know you have people watching me and reporting my every move to you, and I saw Josef the other day trying his best to blend in the crowd.
As such, you'd probably know that I am seeing a man. Yes, he was once a scalper. But with him, I am having the time of my life. The guys here mostly don't recognize me. Therefore I am one of them, Father. And it feels great.
Chad is a cook at a caterer. Lucky him his cousin has taken him in when the latter moved to New York, and between the both of them, the cousin taught Chad some cooking skills. I'm also teaching Chad some Eltheminian cuisine. I also work as a temp waiter so that I can be with him every night. Do I sound like a lovesick fool? I am.
It's impossible but I am in love with him, my dear parents. Life here is good -- there are lots of flashy, quirky socks on sale here, and I am having the time of my life with Chad.
Let me be here a little longer. I will get back to my responsibilities, I promise, and I know my obligations. Chad and I have no future together, a fact that I am fully aware of, but please, for this brief moment, let me be. Let me pretend that I am free and -- just this once -- let me enjoy one brief moment with the man I love.
William stared at the last four words. He sighed, however, when he heard Chad's singing in the shower, and clicked on the 'Send' button.
The Crown Prince had eaten in the most expensive and most exclusive eateries in the world. But he was surprised that today, eating mere peanut butter sandwiches at the rooftop of the apartment block Chad lived in with his cousin Greg, he was having the best time of his life.
He had danced the waltz with Chad during the sunset, with no music but he humming a Strauss tune. And they had made love, right there on the rooftop, not caring if anyone stumbled upon them. It was a wonderful two weeks -- with Chad, he had bought the most garish socks he could find from flea shops, learned streetdancing, practiced rapping, and even played DJ in a club (thanks to the DJ owing Chad a favor). During this time, he was just Wills, and he could pretend that he and Chad are just two normal average guys having a good time.
Now, sated, William lay on the mattress beside Chad. He was naked except for his shirt, his shirt unbuttoned to let Chad play with his nipples. He looked at Chad, the latter in shorts, and sighed softly to himself. He didn't want this to end, not now, not ever.
"I'll have to go back to Elthemina in two days time," William said, feeling bleak inside.
"Bon voyage then," Chad said simply.
William felt deflated by the man's nonchalance, really. "Will you miss me?"
Chad paused in his fiddling with William's nipples, and looked away. "Yeah, I'll miss you," he said.
William gently took hold of the man's chin and turned his face to look at him. "Come with me?"
"Of course not," Chad said. "Don't be stupid. You're a prince."
"I'll give it all up if I could," William said, and realized he meant every word. "Yes I would."
Chad shook his head, his grin weak. "I won't let you."
"Why did your cousin let you roam around the streets scalping?" William asked later that night, running his fingers through Chad's hair.
Chad lifted his head from his resting on William's head. "That's because Greg just moved to New York from Seattle two months back, and he invites me to stay with him after I got out of jail."
"And he's taking care of you well," William said. He refused to feel jealous or suspicious of this unseen man who has taken Chad off the streets, not when William also felt indebted to him. "I'd love to meet him."
"Too bad he's right now in Seattle," Chad said. "He's good to me. He's odd, he does nothing but cook when he's not in court, and he says the weirdest things at times. But yeah, he's good to me and I try to be good to him." He reached out and playfully tweaked William's nose. "How about you? Tell me about you."
"My life? I'm a Prince," William said simply. "Okay, I'll tell. My father and stepmother love me, my brothers love me, and I love them."
"But you don't like your life."
"No," William agreed. "I can't stand it. Let me tell you a little-known secret: my father divorced my mother for my stepmother. That's okay, I mean, everyone divorces at one point or the other, but my father had to go on national television to declare that he never loved my mother, and it is my stepmother he loves all along. And my mother retaliated by flaunting her relationship with a millionaire.
"I was still in school then," William said, looking at the stars, his voice calm. "And I was Prince, not the one in line for the throne, but a Prince nonetheless. Hence I can't cry, and I can't say anything to those masters and students who give me pitying looks and thank God that they are not me."
"But you survived," Chad said simply.
"Yeah I did."
"Where's your mother now?"
"She died in an accident, car accident. She was speeding. Drunk." William shook his head and laughed bitterly. "My father didn't say it, my grandparents didn't say it, but I know they are all relieved. My mother was a popular Queen, and now, my father can slowly restart the whole thing without my mother's shadow tainting everything."
Chad didn't say anything, just lying his head on William's chest.
"He married the woman, and I accepted her," William said. "I have to, it's my responsibility. And she loves my brothers and I. I don't know why, but love us she does. And I try my best to be a good son. Even though I still remember the face of my mother or how she smiles. I miss her, and now I have to see the woman whom I can't help blaming for her death every day, smiling at me and loving me as her own son."
"I'm sorry," Chad said quietly.
"Here, with you, I have some peace of mind," William said. "No, I don't hate her, my stepmother," he said, wanting Chad to understand. "But it is killing me to see her loving me when I know I can't love her back in return. And now she is dying."
Chad looked up, startled.
"She's dying," William said, surprised that he could say it so calmly. "Once, I used to wish that she would just die. Now she's dying and I'm fucking dying inside with her."
Chad just moved up and placed his head on William's shoulder. "It's not your fault," he said awkwardly. "Everyone dies. It's just a matter of acceptance."
"And you know what's killing me the most? I can't cry. I can't even feel any remorse. And I'm tearing up in guilt because she will never be loved for the way she loves me. Listen to me, I'm not even making sense."
"Sleep, Wills," Chad said softly.
Two days later, William stood at the airport and kissed Chad roughly, urgently, until his bodyguards whispered that he really had to board the plane.
"I'll come back," he told Chad, who was standing there impassively. "You'd better wait for me."
"Don't come back for me," Chad said.
William turned back to look at Chad, surprised by the hardness in the latter's voice. "You may say that you don't love me, but I know you do. And I'll make sure you admit it to yourself one day."
Chad just made a mock shooting gesture with his hand and turned away.
"You don't need me here Father," William told his King. "Let me go, please."
William's father refused, but this time his wife took his hand and whispered something in his ears. William watched as his father argued -- gently -- with his wife, until finally he turned to William.
"What will I tell the people?" the King asked, simply.
"Just say it's time William live his own life," the Queen answered for William. "Charles, you have to let go."
William later confronted his stepmother. Even now, he found it hard to address her as anything but 'Ma'am'. But he would try. He owed them both that much. He found her reading in the library.
"Mother." It sounded rusty even to his ears, but there was none of the expected pain of betrayal of the memory his own mother. "Thank you."
"It's nothing. I just told him that you have the luxury of living your own life. And that he shouldn't force the life he had led on you, not when it is so unnecessary."
They were both so cordial to each other, like always, but now, to William this cordiality was just wrong. He looked at his stepmother, proud, dignified, and exhausted. She knew she could never measure up to her predecessor and that she would never earn the affections of her stepchildren or her people the way the late Queen had. Yet here she was, still standing beside her husband.
Whatever role she had played in breaking his parents' marriage, she didn't deserve his coldness, not when he and his brothers and everyone else but her husband had made her pay for the rest of her life.
William felt the alien feelings of humility washing over him. And it tore through him like a million daggers.
He walked up to the woman. At her questioning look, he went down on his knees and said brokenly, "Mother, forgive me."
FOUR
Greg Germann turned when the door burst open. The man who dashed in was frantic; his amazingly handsome face a mask of pain and disbelief. He recognized the man from Jeremy's description, of course. He was too tired and grief-stricken to bow or do whatever royalty expected of men in their presence, however.
"Hi," he said.
"Chad," the man just said, running to the unconscious man on the bed. "Chad, oh God, please no."
Greg knew about his cousin's affair. He discounted it as a bluff, but now, he was too worn out to be surprised to realize the whole unlikely affair was real. He just stood there, hand on doorknob, and said, "He didn't tell you? Leukemia."
Prince William didn't listen. Greg knew then that the man was deaf and blind to everyone but Chad. He watched the prince bent over the bed, holding Chad's hand in his.
"No," the prince said at last, "this can't be. This can't fucking be. Not like this."
Greg felt his eyes tear. "It's the terminal stage now."
"No, I won't accept that," William spat, turning to Greg, his eyes wild. "Get out. Get the fuck out!"
Greg shrugged, having grieved too long that he was now numb, and left the room. He pretended not to hear the raw anguished scream of the man inside.
"Wills?"
William woke up abruptly and felt his world turn at last when he saw Chad's eyes wide open.
"Chad," he whispered. "I'm back. I told you I'll come back."
"I told you not to come back. I don't want you to see me like this." Chad's voice was a tired whisper.
"I know doctors. Specialists. They will take care of you. They will make you okay again," William said.
Chad laughed brokenly. "You, of all people, should know better. But I'm glad you come back. I so want to see you again."
"I love you Chad," William said. The world blurred, and he angrily wiped his tears away with the back of his hand.
"You shouldn't have. What a waste," Chad answered bitterly.
"I love you," William said again. And again.
Chad closed his eyes and shook his head. "Then I'm sorry for you."
"You don't mean that," William whispered, gripping the rails of the bed.
The other man choked, and shook his head furiously at William's handkerchief. "I can't love you back. Not this way. So I suggest you do something with your fucking love because I don't want it."
Greg went down on one knee and shook the sleeping man awake. "Hey, Wills," he said, coaxing the man to wake -- after two days he was pretty sure they could call each other by their first names. "Here," he said, pushing a box of Chinese food into the man's unmoving hands. "You have to eat something."
William looked like hell, his eyes red-rimmed and his face unshaven. Greg had to coax him to eat and bathe. The only time the man came to life was when Chad came to, and even then the man saw only Chad.
Now he saw Chad's eyes opened again, and William pushed aside the box.
"Greg," Chad said.
Greg smiled weakly. "Chad. Hi. How are you feeling?"
"Like shit. Look, can you get me a glass of milk?"
Greg nodded, and walked off to search for a nurse.
"I'm sorry," Chad told William.
"I'm not," William said.
"No, I'm sorry, because I didn't tell you that -- well, I need to thank you. Thanks for being the best thing in my life. And I'm very sorry that I can't be at happy ending with you."
William smiled, without any bitterness this time. "You saved my life, Chad. You can't just leave me now. We are supposed to have fun together."
"Everyone dies, Wills. It's all about acceptance." Chad laughed, the laugh breaking into small sobs. He placed his hand over William's. "Wills, thank you for everything. And I lied. I love you. I really do."
Greg knew when he saw William standing at the doorway, his forehead against the wall. He placed the glass of milk on a seat beside him and walked over to the man. He let William cry on his shoulders, his own tears running down his cheeks as he listened to the man cry raw, broken sobs.
EPILOGUE
Greg Germann sighed, fighting back tears. Shit, three years later and he could still see Chad's smile, that mischievous smile. He placed the flowers on the grave, one handful for Chad, and sat down beside the old boy's resting-place.
"Chad, I know you're listening. Here I am, like always, and I must tell you my life is great. Kevin and I haven't killed each other yet, even though he still leaves the toilet seat up and I keep harping on him for that." He paused, looking at the tombstone. He touched the engraved name fondly. "I miss you buddy. You're the best joker ever, and I still haven't forgiven you for walking away like that. You didn't even say goodbye. But that's not your style, is it?"
He smiled through the veil of tears in his eyes as he looked far away.
"Well, I have to go," he said eventually. "Kevin is a bit impatient with sentimental fluff, and I can see him getting impatient by our car already. Well, see you next Sunday Chad." Greg paused and turned around. "And say hi to Wills for me."
Kevin walked up to him and looked at Chad's resting-place thoughtfully. "You never did tell me how the prince died."
"In his sleep about two months after Chad was gone."
"Creepy." Kevin shrugged. "Did he just die off or did he -- I don't know, want to die?"
Greg didn't answer. He reached to wipe away his tear, but Kevin beat him to that. "You're a fake, Kev," Greg said, letting his tears fall free. He breathed deeply to steady his emotions. "You're not that tough, you old fake."
Kevin just took Greg's hand in his, kissed it softly, and led Greg to their car.