The Gentlemens Club

By Lady Poetess

Published on Feb 18, 2001

Gay

THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB Edward

By and copyright Lady Poetess

http://www.gentlemensclub.cjb.net

Disclaimer This story is fictitious and bears no resemblance to anyone dead or alive.

ONE

They did say life began at thirty. To commemorate the fifth anniversary of the start of his life, Edward Kerr decided to do something different from his routine every day. He would work up the courage to speak to his colleague Billy Campbell, and maybe ask the man if they could take lunch together.

Easier said than done, really, Ed thought as he looked across the office space. As usual, Billy was on the phone, talking animatedly to always someone at the other end of the line. Billy always could talk to anybody and sell his ideas to their clients without seemingly much effort. He just started working a year ago and already there were talks on the grapevine that he was in consideration for a major promotion at the end of this year.

Not that Ed was jealous – no he wasn't, definitely. He had nothing but admiration for Billy ever since the man walked in the office one fine day like a radiant monarch taking his place at the throne. As a mere senior graphics artist and web designer at Synergist Advertising, Ed was in no competition with Billy, who worked in the sales pitch field. It also unfortunately meant that Ed never had a legitimate reason to talk to Billy.

Ed cleared his throat and looked at his reflection in the small piece of mirror he kept in his pocket especially for today. He still looked like he was twenty years ago: a quiet, shy man who not only was a late bloomer, he was sure the blooming would never come. Age had been kind to him, giving him a semblance of good looks, if a bit of a square, dorky sort of good looks. He looked at his watch – one minute to lunch break.

Come on, courage. It was nothing big, right? Just asking a guy to keep him company for lunch.

But it was so hard, because looking at Billy's handsome, cheerful glory made Ed lose his nerves. Billy was one of those men who seemed to walk on air and turned everything he touched into gold effortlessly.

A man so far, far out of Ed's league.

"I can do this," Ed whispered to himself. He stood up from his desk and made his way to Billy's desk.

But he was only halfway there when handsome, glorious Jeremy Schnard came up to and leaned against Billy's desk. Billy grinned and said something to which Jeremy laughed his glorious laugh. "Let's go then," Ed heard Billy say.

Ed sighed as the two men headed off together, obviously for lunch, trying his best to ignore the dull pain in his chest.

Ed didn't how much opportunity he would have to talk to Billy until his heart leaped triple time when Billy stepped into the same elevator at five thirty that evening. And Ed, who never expected this opportunity, felt his brain shut down immediately. His fingers tightened on the handle of his briefcase and he just stared at Billy like a dumb goon.

"Hi there," Billy said, giving him a brief glance before looking ahead.

"Uh, err, hi." Ed was always the eloquent one.

The lights went out and the elevator stalled.

"Was it something you said?" Billy remarked. "Damn." He pressed the emergency button. Nothing happened. "Damn, damn, damn. I will be late for the 'Temptation Isle' rerun."

"You watch that show?" Ed asked. Finally, he could say something, even if that something sounded dumb.

"Yeah. It's the stupidest thing to come on TV, just what I need to unwind after a hard day's work kissing everybody's ass. Sorry, didn't mean to let it out on you. It was a long day today."

"No, that's okay." Ed couldn't see Billy's face in the dark. "It was a long day." Gee, he sounded more and more a parrot by the moment! Get a grip, Eddie.

"I'm Billy. Sales."

"I know."

"You do? Strange, as I don't know you."

Ed hit the back of his head against the wall. "I mean they all talk about you. You're a high riser in this company," he said hastily to plug the damage.

"Oh. So can I know your name?"

"Ed. I mean, Edward Kerr. Arts department."

"Relax, Ed. You sound as if you're reporting for boot camp. They will come get us out soon."

If only that was the reason for Ed's stupid phase.

Billy gave up pressing on the emergency button and made to sit on the floor. "At least the air conditioner is still working. Well, Ed, sit down. No point standing like a dummy waiting for help to come, is there? They'll take their time, so we may as well make ourselves comfortable. Sit down."

Ed sat.

TWO

"And so, Ed, I confess – I'm a fraud. I'm way out of my league here. There's only so much I can do by seeing how others work. Serves me right for working at a place where nepotism thrives – my uncle owns this company, did I tell you that? – but what the fuck can I do? I'm forty-two years old with a college degree. If I don't start here, I'll never start anywhere else."

Ed looked in the dark shadows of the elevator as Billy spoke. Billy's high tenor was like a hypnotic rhythm, its warmth lulling Ed into a sense of well- being he had rarely felt in his life. Hence he placed crossed his arms and rested them on his knees. Resting his chin on his arms, he listened to soothing rise and fall of Billy's words.

"I can help you," he offered timidly at Billy's diatribe of his own inadequacy.

"I may take you up on that," Billy said after three second's pause. "You probably don't understand how hard it is to realize I have wasted ten years of my life just because I have too much money in my bank account." Billy was the heir of the Campbell fortune, but his parents seemed determined to outlive their only son, Billy had told Ed earlier. "It hurts too, to know that I'm here in this company only because my uncle take me in out of pity," Billy added quietly.

"It's not that bad surely," Ed offered. "You've done exceedingly well so far."

"Here's a secret, Ed: there's nothing a well-aimed smile and plenty of charm can't get you. I'm not a creative man, not like this, and I don't know the market trends well yet. I spend so much time reading and learning from everyone in my department, but I'm not ready yet to do this big one. I suspect Jacob's behind this, you know, giving me this biggie, because he still hates the fact that my arrival means the loss of his chance of promotion." Billy released an audible sigh of resignation. "I don't blame him."

Was someone ever coming to open this elevator for them? Ed hoped they wouldn't come too soon. He was selfish enough to want this private moment a little longer.

"Hey, Ed, I've been telling you all my life's story. Play fair, will you? How about you? Will you change anything in your life if you could?"

"Well," Ed said carefully. But it was perhaps fair to reveal as much as Billy had to him. He didn't know why Billy said so much, but he was grateful. He would cherish tonight and thought about this when he was old and about to meet his maker, about tonight when he could believe he and Billy formed a connection. "If I could, I would not be this shy. I would have joined the boys in their football games when I was younger."

Billy laughed, a clear free release of emotion that was like a dagger laced with the most potent aphrodisiac plunged deep in Ed's heart – Ed knew he would bleed when this night was over, but he craved this brief, temporary moment of connection with this beautiful man. "I was in military school," Billy offered. "I always believed I would be a cartoonist. I drew, you know, for every newsletter, poster, anything. I even invented a new game for sports." He smiled, Ed could see Billy smiling at this. "I had a crush on my football coach, and that was when I knew I was gay. Those good old days."

"Yeah."

"You don't sound as if you agree on that."

"Well." Ed rubbed his forehead wearily. It was late. "If I were not in school, I was taking care of my mother who was dying of cancer and my father who just couldn't accept the fact that she was dying and we were running out of money."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. Talking about it now, I realize it wasn't so bad. There was the art. I took art in high school as an alternative to biology, and it changed my life." Ed smiled quietly, remembering those days. "Those quiet moments in the art room finishing my assignment before I go home – those were the good old days. Thanks, Billy, for letting me remember that."

"Sounds like you just had a Touched By An Angel moment, Ed, but you're welcome all the same. You draw?"

"No, I'm lousy at drawing. I'm good at geometric design, creating patterns and order. My life was always in shambles back then, moving between hospitals and my house and then trying to study in the late night hours after making sure my father hasn't drunk himself to death. Making designs out of perfect angles was my catharsis."

"I'm sorry, Ed."

"Why?"

"I'm sorry I whine like an idiot for the last hour. You shame me, really. You're amazing. I would have killed myself in your shoes. I am pathetic under pressure. I once broke down when my father demanded that I get some A's in school – he was sick of my B's, and what that control freak wanted, he got."

"I had to get straight A's in school. I was pathetic in sports, and I needed a college scholarship," Ed said. "It was hell."

"Yeah."

Billy's hand closed over Ed's, and Ed couldn't help his instinctive recoil at the warm skin over his air-condition chilled hand.

"I'm sorry," Billy started to say.

"It's okay," Ed said, willing himself to breathe normally as he relaxed his hand in Billy's. "I'm just so cold and your hand is so warm – "

Billy kissed Ed's forehand gently, a prayer of a kiss. "Thanks for letting me talk, Ed," Billy whispered, his breath warm on Ed's skin.

Ed closed his eyes as they started to hurt and water. Billy kissed him, and Billy talked to him as if they were equals. He could die now, without regrets and without rancor, because in this moment, Ed felt alive, human, and cherished.

"It's okay, Billy," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Thank you for letting me talk too. I – I – I don't mind listening." Thank you for this one memory too, he wanted to say, this one memory he would cherish until his dying day. But he couldn't say that, could he?

"Then we're equal," Billy said softly. "Look, I'm really tired. Wake me up when they rescue us, okay?"

"Okay," Ed said, bitterly disappointed at the end of their talk. "Sleep, Billy. I'll call you when they open the door."

He sat in the darkness, listening to Billy's quiet snores a million heartbeats later. His tears fell as he thought of the time those elevator doors would open, when they both would look at each other in clear light. Billy would go back to his beautiful world, and Ed would go back to his dull, routine life.

As he sat there crying silently, he thought he heard Sarah McLachlan sing in his head.

So just let me try and I will be good to you just let me try and I will be there for you I'll show you why you're so much more than good enough…

THREE

They met at the doorway the next morning, when Ed arrived the same time Billy got out of the cab. They stared at each other for a second before Billy said a sheepish "Hello" and dashed through the door.

Ed hated moments like this. That one brief moment of connection, followed by the other's embarrassment that he spilled so much to a stranger. A shy, dull nobody like Ed. Why should he expect Billy to be any different, just because they had a superficial shared affinity in art?

He had the memory. He should be content with that. Feeling cold despite the hot sun, he pulled his coat tighter around him as he walked through the door. He had been alone for thirty-five years, another ten or twenty years of solitude was nothing.

"I hate mornings," he said to himself, and started his day, orderly and carefully, as always.

"This seat taken?" Billy Campbell placed his lunch tray at the table without waiting for Ed's answer, and helped himself to the vacant seat across the table from Ed. He probably knew Ed almost always ate alone.

Go away, Ed wanted to say. He didn't want any more false hopes and heartache. He tried to smile instead, and failed.

"You said you will help me in my presentation. I've talked to others and they say you know your work. Can you help me?" Billy asked. "Please? I'll even pay you."

It was always about them wanting something from him, Ed thought bitterly. "Okay," he said however. Stupid, fucking moron – that was what he was. But when Billy smiled at him now, his blood sang and he felt as if the sun was shining in his world.

He might as well consign himself doomed and be done with it, he thought wryly. And the damned thing was, he was willing to be damned without even thinking of resisting. Ed Kerr – stupid fool, which was what he was.

Billy talked a lot, Ed realized eight hours later, when they both worked together in the office long after everyone but night security had left. The man talked about his control freak father and how that man bullied Billy and his mother for years. Also Billy talked of his baseball years and his travels all over Canada and USA, and how he wanted to visit Bahamas one day.

Ed nodded and listened, adding in his own life story only when Billy let him. He didn't mind listening. He didn't even mind talking, surprising really.

Billy had taken off his coat and in his white shirt that clung to his torso, he took Ed's breath away. When Billy placed one hand on Ed's shoulder and leaned over the man, Ed could smell Billy's cologne and feel the man's touch on his shoulder. And he wanted to sob at his inability to touch this man. He could only look at Billy's arm next to his, sigh at the sight of those fine hair on the man's arm, and die inside with longing when he looked up at Billy's face and watched the man's long, almost-feminine eyelashes move.

"Yeah, I think this will really work," Billy said, excitement for the first time evident in his voice as he studied the proposal they worked on. "There are just some things we can fine tune…"

Billy wasn't as stupid as he made himself out to be. He just didn't know the ropes. Ed had only made some points clear and Billy was mainly on his own. All Ed had to do was to create an artwork suggestion that Billy could delegate to him or another member of the art department later.

And Billy was now talking about the possible colors on the glossy brochure. Ed made himself listen to every word. It occurred to him that this was what he did all his life: he listened to his mother as he cared for her, he listened to his father ramble as he put the man to sleep, and now, he listened to Billy talk. And he felt himself fading like a ghost as he listened, a worthless creature prized only because he was like a block of wood people talked to and then forgot. But when Billy smiled at him, he felt himself solidify again, human and prized.

He didn't know what to make of this, and it scared him more than the loneliness in his life.

"Here's my place," Ed said. He sounded like a shy young date even to his ears. "I'll – go?"

Billy looked at the door of the house and shrugged. "Can I have a cup of hot coffee?" He rubbed his hands. "It's freezing here."

"Sure," Ed said quickly.

He heard Billy take off his coat and take a seat on the couch, but he fiercely told himself not to have false hopes. That man most likely just wanted coffee. Carefully pouring hot water into a cup, he listened for sounds – nothing. The house was as silent as a tomb.

Except for the sound of his beating heart that pounded like a drum when Billy touched him. Just two hands on Ed's arms, and a light yet burning touch of lips on the nape of Ed's neck, and Ed had to put down the kettle or he'd burn himself. Why, he wanted to ask, why he. But it didn't matter. Even if it was only for tonight and Billy was just using him, he didn't care.

He bent his head aside and let Billy's lips singe the skin of his neck. Already Billy was pushing his hands under Ed's shirt, pushing the fabric as high as he could to touch and caress bare burning skin. This was heaven, hellish heaven, and Ed could only give in to his own desires.

Ed gasped when Billy's mouth closed over his nipple. The man had Ed's shirt unbuttoned to the waist and pushed wide open, and his hands were caressing and burning Ed's feverish flesh like nothing ever had. Ed clenched his fists and looked down at Billy's head in disbelief. And the sight of Billy's tongue prodding and lapping at his nipple before those lips closed over it and the suction started – Ed threw his head back and closed his eyes when Billy suckled him hard.

And now one hand of Billy was pushing under Ed's unfastened trousers, delving under the man's shorts to encircle Ed's wildly throbbing cock with its clever fingers. At that contact, Ed cried and shuddered. He couldn't help it, he lost it right there. Billy only grinned that devilish way of his as he continued stroking Ed's foreskin, not caring that Ed's semen was spurting wildly onto his hands as well as on Ed's stomach.

"I'm sorry – " Ed started to say, then watched, stunned, as Billy placed his semen-stained hand to his lips. Under Ed's fascinated gaze, the other man cleaned his hand with his tongue.

"Billy, I – " Ed wanted to say something to tell Billy how much he was feeling at this moment, how he feared this moment was meaningless to Billy as it meant the world to him.

"Hush." Billy only placed his finger on Jean's lips. "I'm thirsty now. I need a drink. Open up."

Ed did, and Billy's mouth closed over his hard. Ed fell back towards the seat and gripped the armrest behind his head to steady himself as Billy began to drink – lapping and sucking Jean's very saliva from his mouth. Billy found himself responding, contorting his throat so as to fill his mouth with more of the liquid Billy seemed to crave so much. And Billy drank to assuage his thirst even as his hands now slowly pushed Ed's pants down.

Something would happen, but Ed was too distracted by Bill's mouth to think what until he felt the piercing pain lancing through his being.

"Ah - !"

"Hush, it'll feel better, I promise."

"Please." Ed looked down at his raised groin and splayed legs, to the sight of Billy's cock half-embedded in his anus. Then Billy raised himself and pushed deep, so deep in a downward forceful tearing that Ed screamed. The pain was as potent as it was arousing, however, and Ed couldn't get enough of it. Behaving purely on instinct now, he lifted his hips and somehow hooked them around Billy's neck. And his fingers closed around the taut buns of Billy's heaving buttocks to dig into the sensitive cleft between them, causing Billy to shudder reflexively.

Billy thrust hard, his face an expression of feral need, and Ed saw his own lust- filled frenzied face reflected in Billy's dark black irises. Then Billy grunted, and Ed felt the man's mouth on his again. Billy kissed him hard, drawing blood, even as he roughly slammed his groin into Ed's convulsing anus. He came in a scorching climax, and as he kissed Ed, more tenderly now, he guided Ed's cock up him slowly, reveling in the sensation of being filled.

"I love you," Ed whispered breathlessly later.

Billy only touched the side of Ed's sweat-soaked face tenderly.

FOUR

Ed hated mornings. He stepped out of his cab and took a deep fortifying breath. Billy was gone when he woke up this morning, and it wasn't a good sign. He was planning a grand speech should he meet Billy, about how it was just sex and it didn't matter, but he was shocked speechless at what awaited him at the office.

Everyone in the office was laughing at something pinned at the notice board. It was a garishly-colored cardboard heart. Oh yeah, Valentine's Day, Ed thought. He froze when he saw what was on the cardboard heart. There, in gold ink, was 'EK loves WC'.

How could Billy be so cruel to mock him like this? He meant every word he said to Billy. Why?

"Hey, you okay?" It was Billy, sounding most concerned. That faker. That fucking liar. After all Ed had done for Billy.

Ed made a wounded sound as he tried to shake Billy loose. Billy only tightened his embrace of him and with a "Stay out of this!" to the surprised others, he proceeded to drag Ed somewhere. Ed didn't care – he tried to yell what a fucker Billy was, and how Ed would kill him by the day was through – only to shut up when Billy kissed him hard.

They were in the storeroom, Ed realized, when Billy gently pushed him away.

"Has it ever occurred to you that the message refers to Edward Blanchard and Wendy Crutcher?" Billy asked.

"Oh," Ed said. "Oh," he said again.

"Who has the time to go home, clean up, get dressed, and make a card as ugly and garish as that?" Billy asked. "Jesus, Ed, you are so caught up in your hang- up's that you can't see it, can't you?"

"See what?"

"How could a man who listen so well be so stupid?" Billy asked gently. "You're a good friend, Ed. You're the first fellow to make me feel human when I'm with you. There's something about you that make me feel calm and at ease with myself. How do I put this clearly?" Billy's face revealed his own confused feelings. "Everyone outside just want to hear what they want, but you, Ed, you let me be myself. I feel free when I'm with you, and I want to be with you more often."

"Why did you sleep with me?" Ed asked.

"Because it seems like a good idea then. You know, you and me. But when I think of it further, I realize I have nothing to give you in return, Ed."

"No, that's okay. I don't need anything," Ed started to say.

"No, you need more than you put yourself up for."

"I need you," Ed said at last. "For the same reason you say you need me."

Billy smiled, but it's a watered down version of his usual smile, most likely because his eyes were suspiciously moist at the same time. He just took Ed's hand in his and squeezed it hard. "You believe in me, Ed, and that I thank you," he said and kissed the hand in his.

And Ed could only get on his knees so that he could be face to face with the sitting Billy and kiss the man's nose. And lips. Finally, he broke away from the kiss and told Billy, "I think we better get back to work before they fire the both of us."

He tugged at his hand from Billy's, but it was a long time before Billy let go. Even then, his smile stayed with Ed.

Next: Chapter 33: Paul


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