This is gay erotic fiction. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go somewhere else.
Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed electronically or in any other manner without the express, written consent of the author. All rights are reserved by the author who may be reached at cepes@mail.com.
This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of the characters to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence and not intended. They are all products of the author's overactive imagination.
The Interviewee Part 12
At 6.02 pm, my foot protruded from between the doors of the elevator and my body built up speed until I was present the coffee shop looking for my attractive charge for the evening.
Once again, his back was to me. Once again, I placed my fingers on his shoulder. The touch of a friend, or at least someone who wanted to become a friend. His body reacted to me as if it had expected the contact. Maybe he had.
His head titled back, the smile already loaded onto his face. He stood, unprompted, and we walked, wordless, from the shop and to my car. The smile never left his face.
As we were exiting the parking garage, the smile on Alex's face took on a devious appearance.
"You know, driving to Malibu on a Thursday evening takes a long time."
"Yup."
"I'll have a lot of time to interrogate you, then."
"You think so?"
"Yes, I do." The devious smile stretched even wider.
"You want me to make a good impression, right?" I hummed a note, trying not to become too distracted merging into traffic. The car swung into the proper lane and we began our journey down this small tributary leading to the main rivers and then to the ocean, to Malibu.
"Well, I've learned a new skill during my vacation. Extortion."
"What do you want?" I was slightly amused; a new side to Alex that I wasn't yet sure how to interpret.
"Answers to my questions."
"Where have I heard that before?" I had to smile as I said this.
"What do I get for the answers?"
"Well, friendship. My good behavior. And my stories."
"I'll have to think about that. Why would I want to hear anything more about your scrawny ass?" I decided to press his buttons.
"Need to remind you where that ass was a week ago?" He wasn't backing down. Okay, no awkwardness, a very reassuring fact.
"And what a fine, scrawny ass it was." I really meant that, all except for the scrawny part. Alex was stunning; his musculature was well developed, his features were well drawn; he was a nice person and that radiated through every smile or turn of his head. Fascination, the kind of charisma attendant upon the fasces of old Rome, the symbol of leadership, for which men gave their lives in battle. Alex had that kind of charm.
But, I no longer harbored any of the illicit feelings I once had. My mind was completely trained on Chris, probably a sweating, matted mess at the dive in Malibu right now. But, he had every quality I wanted or needed. And, he wanted me as much as I him. It was the parity, this negotiated equality that I treasured.
Alex was silent for a moment before I turned my head and saw the blush upon his cheeks. My compliment had embarrassed him; I guess I still had my touch.
"You know, Alex. I really meant what I said today. About being sorry. For what I started with you."
"Thank you." He paused. "I didn't think I would let you off with just a `sorry.' But when I saw you I saw the sincerity. I believed you."
"Otherwise, I would have reamed you out unmercifully." The demonic smile returned.
"I believe you." The traffic was moving very slowly. On Santa Monica Boulevard, heading toward the 405, I could expect another 15 minutes of start-and-stop.
"It really was a rough weekend. Rougher than I told you." The smile had left his face. He turned his head to look out the window. I decided not to interrupt the silence; Alex had been impressing me today with a side of him I had never seen. He was a far different person than the one I met, briefly, at the college interview a month ago and then more frequently since then.
We were finally approaching the entrance to the 405, traffic has been a little lighter than usual. From there, the river would gush into the 10. And then to the 1 and the ocean. A little toodle up the coast and then my sweating, swarthy man. A plumpness settled into my groin.
I could hear Alex shifting in his seat. My head and his head turned toward each other. I could see a redness on his face. Maybe he did need a push.
"Want to talk about it?"
"It was just that every worthless thought I have ever had about myself. Everything like that came back this weekend." It sounded as though momentum was building in Alex, save for the pause here. I decided to let him continue. I grunted my understanding.
"Everything I had, everything everyone else had told me was special about me, wasn't enough to get me what I decided I wanted. All of it was shit; it got me attention from people I didn't want, it couldn't get me the attention I wanted."
"You shouldn't think of who you are as currency for buying what you want. I mean that, Alex." I reached over and touched his arm. "I'm sorry that I was a shit to you. But always remember that there are a lot of people out there who trade on their bodies or something else to get what they want. I think you have a lot more to offer than that. Trust me, the next guy won't say no."
We were on the freeway now, heading toward the inevitable. Alex sat quietly, digesting this nugget.
"Why?" I glanced at him. I thought we had covered why I couldn't follow through. But, his tone was shakey; his face remained paler than it was before.
"Why what?"
"Why did you say yes in the first place?"
"You really want to know?" This was not really a conversation I wanted to have. I hoped, for all his curiosity, that Alex would back down.
"I've spent every waking moment thinking about it." Sincerity hung in his words. Maybe he wasn't as fine with all this as I had expected. Kid gloves, on. Check.
"Okay. I never wanted to say this. But, after we met, I fantasized about you. When I was with Chris. I even became more aggressive with him. He liked it very much." Even I had to smile at this. My initiating sex had caught Chris by surprise; my asking to top had doubled his surprise. But, he did love it; so did I.
"Then, to be honest, I sort of forgot about you. Until you called. Then, the cycle of fantasies started up again. I don't think our sex life had ever been better. You were so confident, aggressive, attractive that you pushed all my buttons. And I pushed Chris'. But, that night at my place, when I heard what you said and figured out what it meant, the truth I mean, you put me back in touch with reality. All the fantasies I had built up crumbled. You weren't just some thing I wanted to fondle and fuck. You were a first timer, a virgin. Someone I could never actually fuck. My cock actually wilted when I figured it out." I paused. I wanted to hear what Alex thought. He seemed to be waiting. For what? I guess I had stopped at an ambiguous point.
"Now. Now, I think of you as a friend. Someone I will care for and help out. Like a brother or something. A beautiful little brother. Never had one, you know. Definitely not one as hot as you." I decided to keep reinforcing the things he told me had been doubting about himself; I hoped it wouldn't sound like sexual interest. "My first priority is to find you a man. Cause I want you to be happy." Now I heard a crying man sitting in my passenger seat.
"I mean that, you know." Sniffling. We were nearing the end of our stint on the 10. And the traffic was slowing to a crawl as 4 lanes tried to merge, more or less, into the 2 lanes of the 1 highway.
"Yeah, I do."
"So, let me get my little order pad out?" I made air motions trying to find the imaginary object.
"Okay, honey, what'll you have?" In my best dinerette tone of voice.
A laugh escaped from the flushed cheeks next to me. "Where's the menu?"
"Oh, damn, honey, we got everything on offer. Just you tell me and your aunt John will get it for you." I added some southern belle sweetness to the accent.
A stronger laugh echoed through the interior of the car.
"I'm glad you can laugh. I haven't heard it for a while; I missed it, you know."
"Thanks."
"So, what are you looking for? Chris and I gotta know, so we can take you to the right places to find it."
"Hmm?"
"You know, clubs, bars, and all the rest. The full treatment. And when we get tired of flirting and all that scene, we'll get serious and find you someone great." I started wondering how exactly.
"We're so creaky when it comes to that now, I'll actually have to do some research. We've become a bunch of comfortable homebodies. Now, you're our project." I hadn't discussed any of this with Chris. I hoped he wouldn't be upset; rather, I hoped he would be excited. After all, it was his idea to track Alex down and reestablish contact.
His face opened wide again. I expected noise, a sentence or a laugh, to follow. Instead, all that happened was the silliest grin I have ever seen remained on Alex's face.
"Let me think about what I want. What I thought I wanted was you, you know? But, I decided to throw you back and put my pole back into the water. Such a small fish, yours." His grabbing himself at the end of his remarks was more risible than seductive, but I had to give him credit for trying. He was definitely strong enough to play in North Hollywood.
"Okay, you think about it." There was a little edge to my voice to let him know I was serious. I left the risqué stuff uncommented on.
If we were going to be successful, we had to know what the end goal would be (or, at least, the first of many, many end goals, if our Alex was like most denizens of the bars, clubs, and the rest of the scene.
He was quiet for a few minutes. The mood was very comfortable, but the traffic was only now clearing up from the bumper-to-bumper state it had been in. We began to move more freely.
"Tell me about Chris."
"I've already told you a lot about him. What do you want to know?"
"Tell me everything."
"We're about the same age, 26. We were okay friends in college. He was definitely a scene queen; he also pulled a hell of a lot of guys. But, now, we're best friends. And we love each other. I think we reaffirmed that. Mostly because of you. Really because of what I told Chris about not being able to, umm, complete things with you and why." Alex had the look of a small child settling in for the hearing of a long, well beloved story.
"He's beautiful. He's the most generous person I've ever met. He also cooks like the devil, positively sinful. I don't know why I haven't been gaining weight like crazy. He's got a great sense of humor. Not many people can make me laugh like he can, particularly when he gets into one of his moods. His moods, yes, are another endearing quality. Sometimes he'll come home and decide to speak to me in a bad French accent. I'll be helpless, just laying on the couch laughing. Other times, well, other times he won't want us to come out of the bedroom for an entire weekend." I blushed thinking about the last time that mood struck him. I had been anything but unwilling.
"He surfs. He's outdoorsy, more than I am. But, he can find enjoyment in just about anything. He's also pretty well read, mostly history. He's working, well, he's done working for an investment management firm in downtown. He's going to be changing directions, I think. He wants to cook. He wants to train to cook really well, even though I can't usually taste a difference between his stuff and what comes out of restaurants. What else?"
"Hmm, that's good. I think I can picture him. I'll wait to see him in person and find out the rest then."
I nodded. For the rest of the drive, the conversation was light and the silence in between our words was soothing. I've always found that to be a true test of friendship; someone you don't feel uncomfortable not talking to is someone you know well, is a good friend. Doesn't work in all cases, but it's a good rule of thumb.
The curvy road, our Pacific Coast Highway, freeway 1, is always a pleasure to drive. Tonight was no exception. Having an interesting person in the car, but not feeling obligated to play the tour guide, as I often did with out-of-town friends who came to visit, was very liberating. My thoughts flitted back through everything Alex and I had talked about. Particularly my love for Chris. I would have to tell him what I wanted to do, go with him on his new little quest, when I got some time with him tonight. I could see his face breaking into a tremendous smile when I told him. I could already feel the lovemaking that would follow.
Eventually, we pulled into the parking lot that served the dive where Chris was spending the rest of the week. In the worst possible place he could to test his mettle, his desire to be a chef.
Alex and I exited the car. We walked slowly to the door of the dive, perched right over the ocean. The door opened, we entered, it looked like it had the last time Chris and I had been here. Very spartan interior; very sparse crowd. I pointed Alex to a table. I walked back to the kitchen area. I looked around to find Chris. Eventually, I spotted him, over in a corner, with his back to me. It looked like he was chopping something. The rhythmic motion of his arm and shoulder told that story.
I ventured through the door and walked to him. "Chris," I said quietly. Louder: "Chris."
He turned to me and broke into a smile. I gave him the come hither sign. He laid down his knife and walked toward me. There were a couple other people in the kitchen; they didn't seem to mind Chris leaving. Business was slow tonight.
"I have someone I want you to meet."
"Is it who I think it could be?"
"Yes." He nodded and smiled.
We walked together into the main room. I saw the glance that Alex and Chris exchanged. I could see the mental connection. They liked each other. In fact, as the night drew on they became thicker than blood. They were coagulating on the spot.
I gave Charlie a kiss on the cheek as he was leaving the party. He smiled at me, gratefully. There was still a lot unspoken between us. I had told Chris about Charlie's loutish behavior; Chris, forever gentle, forgave him and decided he needed a man as well. Like our other charge, Chris and I adopted and integrated Charlie into our little get-togethers. He was now heading home for the evening.
"The party was great."
"Did you kiss Alex goodnight? And, no tongue." He blanched. When I first got Charlie in a room with Alex, Charlie could barely keep his tongue in his mouth. Thankfully, Alex had excellent taste in men and turned him down, twice.
It had been tough finding a good time to throw this little party for Alex. Well, it was a big party. I had been stuck in Cleveland for more workweeks than I expected, leaving only the weekends free. And, of course, everyone had plans. So, Chris and I just picked a date and stuck to it. Paul and Nate had been unable to make it, but we had seen them at Chris' farewell party two weeks back. Julie, my former mentor, wouldn't have been invited, especially not since she had been laid off in the not-so-imaginary reduction-in-force; her apology to me, after hearing about her dismissal, really didn't do much to me. Jane, our incredible librarian, on the other hand, had been invited but was also unable to attend, something about babysitting nieces and being stuck watching the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
The little club on Santa Monica in West Hollywood we had decided to use had filled up pretty well with Alex's well-wishers. It wasn't everyday someone decided to go to Harvard. Chris and I were very excited for him. Princeton also wanted him; for some reason, Yale said no thanks. He got into all his safety schools. I watched him sign his name to the cards and tick off the "no" box for every school save Harvard. Not that we had lobbied hard or anything.
I could see that Chris was still as captivated by Alex as I had been when I first met him. The dancing I was now watching wasn't exactly chaste. Nor did I mind. They were extremely beautiful together. Each one was precious to me; I was incredibly gratified they had become so close so quickly. Those two really did love one another. An interesting little triangle we have formed.
Alex had been loving the time all of us spent together. At the clubs or just over a simple dinner at our place. It really was our place now. Alex was crashing on the couch one or two night a week. He loved the time he spent with just Chris, too. Maybe too much. He had run across scads of young men who were definitely interesting in getting acquainted; Alex said no to them all. I'll be the first to admit that boys from bars aren't usually marrying material, but one has to start somewhere. Alex was resisting starting. Or maybe he had his expectations set for a very particular someone.
Not that I would mind, I think. I knew I couldn't do the honors myself, though. But, I would have to be invited to the ceremony. Maybe this would be one gift Chris and I could give Alex for graduation; assuming he didn't get off his beautiful ass and find someone closer to his own age by then. I would have to speak to Chris about it. But, not now, they were moving together beautifully. My beautiful man; my beautiful boy. Oblivious of my watching them; but both loved by me, both loving me.
The End.
Author's Note: I would thank everyone for their generous comments about my story. I appreciate hearing your comments on this story or anything else. You can send me a message at cepes@mail.com. I enjoy responding to all the messages I receive.
If you get a chance, check out http://archerland.net. Great site, great stories, worth a visit.