This story is fiction any similarities between persons either living or dead is purely coincidental (although any good writer will write what he knows). This is a story that deals with male-to-male relationships as well as homosexual sex. If this offends you or is illegal in your location please do not read any further. This statement releases me the author and the site wherein this story is posted from any legal action. Copyright 1999 by Patrick Sean Purdy.
Chapter 9: Anticipation
Brandon and I didn't see each other for the rest of that weekend; instead we talked on the phone getting to know one another. His work kept him from visiting, and it was for the best since I was way behind on my thesis. For long days on the patio I studied with my friends, and Brandon's calls became a welcome distraction. I started to see more and more that Brandon was a better guy than I had first hoped for. The thought of someone so perfect made me happy, and my friends commented on it.
Finally, on Sunday, my last day of beachside bliss, Brandon called and asked if we should have a proper date. Of course I said yes, and we planned for Wednesday night. I didn't have to work too late, my class the next day wasn't until 11am, and Wednesdays were Brandon's day off. We decided that he would come to St. Augustine and our first official date would be on my home ground. It was perfect, because I would get a chance to show him St. Augustine through my eyes, not just a travel brochure.
As the days passed, my excitement grew. Of course I had called Brandon and spoken to him, but the only plan we agreed upon was for us to go to dinner. He wanted me to choose the restaurant, because I knew the town better, and then see what happens from there. I couldn't leave everything up to chance; I had to think of some after dinner ideas. I told Brandon as much, but he was more freewheeling, and willing to " . . . just see what happens." I started to get a little frustrated.
Since the restaurant was up to me, I asked him what kind of food he liked, and what kind of atmosphere he wanted. Again the free spirit ruled supreme within Brandon, and he told me he wanted a perfect evening, which to him, consisted of my presence and both of us being happy. I felt so planned out after the Thanksgiving weekend so I sighed. On the other end, Brandon heard that sigh and immediately knew what it meant.
"I'm sorry Evan," he said, "I'll tell you a little more about what I'd like our first date to be, all right?"
"Yeah, that'd be good. I mean, I want you to be happy too, and I don't want to pin us into something the other person might not like. I don't mind letting the evening take care of itself, but let's plan dinner at least."
"That sounds fair. How about we both put on our Sunday best, and have a quiet, romantic, candle-lit dinner? Can we do that anywhere in St Augustine, but without all the tourists?"
"I don't know about no tourists," I said, "But I know a quiet little bistro perfect for what we're looking for. I know the manager, and Wednesday should be mighty quiet.
"Brandon," I continued, "Have I told you that you really know how to be sweet?"
"I think so once, but by that comment I'd say we just planned the perfect dinner, right?"
"I think we did."
"Well, as long as you are there Evan, I am sure it will be."
As Monday and Tuesday passed, pushing me ever closer to Wednesday, I grew anxious and could barely contain myself. Everyone started to notice I was getting edgy, and most of them knew why. Finally, it was Nate who told me if I didn't calm down I would have a heart attack and never live to see my date with Brandon. I told him that was a horrible though, but he said it was quite possible the way I was acting. That scared me pretty well and good, so on Tuesday night I laid down and cleared my mind. I was making sure I would have a peaceful and solid night of sleep.
On Wednesday morning I awoke in my eyes flew open, I knew exactly what day it was. All day long I thought nothing but of Brandon, but yet I was able to keep track of school and work. A smile ran across my face and everybody asked me why. When I got home it was 6:30 in the evening; I only had half-hour until Brandon would be there. I quickly showered and put on the clothes I had laid out the night before. As I was spraying on my cologne and putting on the finishing touches, there was a knock at the door. My heart raced knowing that it was Brandon on the other side.
I opened the door and before me stood the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen. Brandon was dressed even better than he was on Thanksgiving. He stood there, smiling; his smile was so bright, it lit me up too. His eyes dancing with excitement. Tonight was going to be perfect no matter what.
"You look . . . stunning!" I couldn't get over how good he looked.
He gave me a sheepish grin, casting down his eyes, and said, "Oh, this old thing?"
Indeed, that old thing was a fairly new suit, and it only served to enhance his looks. I stepped aside, welcoming him into my little apartment. I asked him to wait for me while I finished up in the bedroom. I heard him mutter something about us being able to start there.
"I doubt you are ready for a step like that," I shouted. I walked out, ready as I ever would be, hoping I looked half as good as Brandon. For the first time, I noticed him really appraising me.
"You're . . . um, I don't know what a good word would be," he said, "I'm not used to giving guys compliments. You're just . . . perfect."
"Well then, maybe this perfect guy should just grab his even more perfect guy, and start their perfect first date."
"Let's not put that much pressure on ourselves, let's just concentrate on us having a good time, and a good time together at that."
"Sounds fair," I said, grabbing his arm. We headed out the door, and into our first official date.
Chapter 10: The Big Date
We got into my Jeep and drove to King Street and then up A1A. Moving slowly I showed various spots to Brandon the way I saw them, not just the popular histories. Some sentimental, like the spot where I confessed to myself I was gay; others whimsical, like the A1A Ale Works, where I got so drunk I ended up in my best female friends bed with no memory. All right, maybe that last part wasn't so whimsical, Brandon didn't think so either. Anyway, you get the picture; I showed Brandon St. Augustine the way a resident sees it instead of some three-day tourist.
As we drove up A1A (i.e. San Marco Avenue), Brandon was content to listen to my quick tales, as we soon reached our destination. The building I pulled up to looked more like a home and less like a restaurant, which wasn't surprising, since the restaurant owner was born inside. Things like that gave 'Tesse's, as I called Cortesse's Bistro, it's charm.
Brandon and I got out of the Jeep and walked across the brick patio with the wrought iron, lattice chairs and up to the front door. Upon entering we were greeted by the manager, Mike. Mike, I had found out quite by accident, was also gay. I'd always suspected he was gay, but I was too polite to ask and too scared also. However, a chance encounter at a gay club in Daytona Beach had confirmed the truths for me, and let the proverbial "cat out of the bag" to Mike.
Mike, as always, was gracious as he greeted us. "Good evening, Evan! Always nice to see you and your guest." he said, then a little quieter he said to me directly, "Everything is all set, you've got Jason out best waiter and you'll be in the back room all alone."
"Thanks, Mike, I knew I could count on you."
"Not a problem my young friend, it's a Wednesday with no frills, so I am glad I could do this for you."
"Thanks again." Mike led us down the hallway, down a half flight of stairs into a large room, which I call the Tuscany Room because of the Italianate landscape mural, which stretches across every wall. The lights were dimmed and there was a candle lit on our table; the only table set up for use in the room. Brandon and I sat down, and Mike placed the menus in front of us.
"You two enjoy yourselves." Mike gave a wink as he spoke, and I just smiled back at him. Jason our waiter quickly greeted us with the bottle of champagne and ordered ahead of time. Brandon's eyes lit up, and he looked at me in awe.
"Evan," he said, "this place must cost a fortune."
"Nah, this place looks really fancy, but it's quite reasonable and it's one of the best restaurants in town."
"All right, if you say so."
"Brandon, trust me I'm not going to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. Just wait, you'll see how good the evening turns out, and we are not going to have to do anything outlandish." Brandon looked at me a little trepiditious, but overall relieved. He smiled and knew that I wouldn't steer us wrong.
Dinner went off without a hitch; the food was excellent, the service was perfect (Jason knew how to be attentive and make himself scarce at the right moments) and I could talk to Brandon easier than I ever could with anyone before.
After dinner, we hopped back in the car and parked down by the Castillo (Old Spanish fort). I admit, taking a lover to The Fort wasn't very original; I myself have walked upon people being intimate or more. However, it was Brandon's idea we should just stroll along the lawn, the seawall, and anywhere else.
We traced the moat and outer wall to the north lawn and up the steps to the fortified sea wall. It turned, it zigged, it zagged, and all along it slanted towards the bay. We talked of nothing at some points and other times we talked of the rich character of St. Augustine. Meanwhile, the night was brisk and the moon filled the sky on the dark side of the fort. It shimmered up off the bay and shone down directly upon Brandon. Words can't describe how good that boy looked in moonlight. As we reached a bench, I bade Brandon to sit by me and watch the bay and the Bridge of Lions.
"Brandon, how long will you be doing this, before you go after more?" I asked. In previous conversations Brandon had expressed interest in music production and recording.
"I'm not sure. I'm always looking for that One Chance, but I haven't spotted it yet. I don't want it to get to that point where I'm a DJ at a club or whereever, and I'm way older than the average of people there. I'm not going to let that happen. Why?"
Why, indeed? I didn't really know why I had asked him something like that. I knew as he was answering, that I must've sounded at least a little mean. Maybe it was because I was taking the path of college, then work, and I viewed Brandon's life differently. I wasn't any better off though. Brandon was working full-time and also working towards bigger goals, so if anything, he was more on track than I was. I told him all of this and he understood. I was glad, because I didn't.
"Listen," Brandon started, "Everyone takes their own paths in life. Some people go to college, like you, because that is what is expected of them. Others, like me, get right into a work force. Some don't do either. But for all of those choices, there's always room to move around juggle your situation and improve your job, your life, whatever.
"I know what you were thinking, but I'm not going to end up a bum or some washed up DJ. I already saw that future for myself, and I'm not going to let it happen to me. I hope that now, you'll help me in that endeavor."
His words hit home with me. I tried to protest, but he and I both knew for a flickering moment I was playing with the what-ifs and I saw one of the bad turns. I was glad to hear from him directly what I had already known from inference.
We got up and continued to walk along the wall. The air between us was lighter now, and relaxed. The conversation turned whimsical, and every time our eyes met, I saw a sparkle. This man before me was something special. As the evening drew on we walked a huge circle of the city and ended back at the car.
Brandon and I drove back to my place, where I invited him in. As we walked into the apartment I headed to my kitchen to get some refreshments and I told Brandon to have a seat, look around, whatever. I felt as if I had nothing to hide from him and, so, I gave him free reign in my home. I returned to the living room and sat on the couch, near Brandon, and offered him his Coke.
He didn't want to watch a movie, so I put some acoustic guitar music on, and adjusted the volume to a low setting. It was a fitting backdrop to our conversation. I thought to myself at one point, "I can't believe how much talking we're doing, I never talk this much." Then I realized, people always talk this much, but usually because of the situations, we don't recognize it.
I was thinking a thousand different things and really not listening to Brandon any longer. I was simply watching his lips as he talked and I leaned in closer to see those lips better. His speech became a little jumbled and disoriented and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was . . . a little bit of nothing, and a little bit of everything. I moved in closer and Brandon's speech became heavy with breath. Then I kissed him.
I just touched his lips the first time, a little taste of heaven. He kissed me back, then we got a little heavier, and my mouth opened a bit to allow my tongue to run across his lips. The mood was heavy and light all at once, we were two guys just stopped in time.
The kissing became more insistent as I moved my hand to the back of his head, running my fingers through his hair and pulling him closer to me. His mouth opened allowing his tongue to envelop my own. Oh, the bliss. My other hand rubbed his chest and around to his back, while his own were holding me by my waist.
Then, he made the first move by breaking away from my mouth and kissing me down my chin and neck. He loosened my tie, and undid the top button so allow him access to my entire neck. He kissed me, flicked his tongue upon my neck, and even sucked a bit at my Adam's Apple. All the while my head was thrown back in pleasure, I was lifting his shirt from his waist, so I could feel the supple skin beneath it.
His back was strong and I could feel the small, toned muscles beneath the velvety skin. My fingertips traced up and down along his back under that shirt and he only kissed me harder. Brandon shivered as I traced along his shoulder blades, and undid more of my shirt-buttons.
Soon, my t-shirt came off and my chest was completely exposed. Brandon continued to kiss down and feel my chest with his mouth. Then, a few moments later, he stopped kissing long enough to remove his shirts and bare his own chest. As beautiful as he was, I returned the kisses he had given me only moments before, with great pleasure. He was beautiful and masculine, yet supple and innocent.
As the moments passed, I was lost in the warmth of out intimate contact, and I barely felt Brandon lay me down on the couch. He lay down upon me with his head on my chest. He looked up at me and kissed, ever so gently, the underside of my chin.
"Evan," Brandon said, "Let's just lay like this. I'm perfectly content, and I think we've had the perfect date."
"That's perfectly all right with me. I think we did, too."
So, as Brandon laid upon me kissing my chest every now and then, or looking up into my eyes, I gently caressed him and plied the top of his head with kisses. After long, we both drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.
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