The Washingtonian

Published on Jun 11, 2007

Gay

The Washingtonian Part I

Part I

            My head throbbed, and my stomach churned.  Overall, I felt as if I'd been hit and then backed over by a large truck.  I tried to open my eyes but quickly shut them from the bright morning light shining down at me.  `I'm never drinking ever again,' I groaned to myself.  Just the idea of verbalizing anything more than a guttural sound made my head hurt.  `Ugh, I don't want to go to work.  I should just call out sick and go back to sleep,' I thought.  `Fuck! I can't, I did that last Friday.'  After a few more minutes of internal debate, I forced my eyes open to the bright sun.  I lay there staring up at the white ceiling for a moment, my right hand rubbing my stomach while my mind remained quiet in an attempt to ease the throbbing sensation in my head.

            "Good, you're awake.  I was afraid I was going to have to get you up," a soft voice spoke.  I bolted upright in shock and looked over.  A figure stood at a doorway to my left.  He had a white towel wrapped around his trim waist, and another in his hands that he was using to dry his hair.  The movement caused a pleasant display of the muscles in his arms and chest.  In a panic, I looked around the room.  I was in a tangle of sheets on a big bed, the surrounding floor was scattered with cloths.  I'm sure I would have taken into account the expensive furnishings, but at the moment, I had no idea where or how I got where I was.  Why I am practically naked in a foreign bed, and who the hell is this hunk in the towel?

            "Are you okay?" the stranger asked, draping the towel around his shoulders and walking towards me.  I must have had a look or panic and worry on my face.  Who was he?  I racked through my memories from the night before; dinner and Happy Hour with some coworkers, more drinking with my roommate and a couple other friends in the apartment, then getting in the cab to Indebleu.  I was drawing a blank.  He sat down next to me on the bed placing his hand on my knee, squeezing it through the soft, white sheet.  He was a very cute.  His short brown hair was a mess from his toweling, his had blue eyes were framed by perfectly shaped brows; he had a soft nose, tender lips, and a strong jaw.  His expression turned from one of concern to an easy smile.  That's it, I remember that smile!  Suddenly the rest of the night flooded back.

            I was having a great time, dancing and hanging around the lounge at Indebleu.  The DJ was playing a beat that my roommate had been obsessed with ever since he got back from Australia.  I scored some bubbly from an acquaintance that was having a birthday celebration there that night.  I'd spent a lot of the night dancing with this cute girl that was all legs.  I'd whispered into her ear after a couple songs that I was enjoying her company but wasn't really interested in taking her home for a romp in the sheets.  She giggled and had a look of relief wash over her face then told me she had recently broken up with her boyfriend and was just looking for a fun night of dancing.  In my drunken state, I decided that we had to celebrate with a glass of champagne and made my way to the bar.

I pushed my way through the crowd that was talking and hovering around the bar.  I waited until I caught Sophia's eye and ordered two glasses of Veuve Clicquot.  In all actuality, my friends and I had no Idea what the bartender's name was, but we all felt she was the best there and thought Sophia was a fitting name for her.  As I was waiting for the champagne, I noticed a guy smiling at me a few people away down the bar.  He was somewhat older and appeared to be in his late twenties but he was definitely cute.  He had on a nice velvet blazer and a fun patterned shit.  I chalked his attention up to my drunken state, Indebleu being a heterosexual establishment.  Not to mention that just as in New York, all the straight guys of DC nightlife were beginning to look less and less metrosexual, and more and more homosexual.  I figured he was just being friendly and returned to my new friend on the dance floor, champagne flutes in hand.  I learned her name was Daria, which was too fitting because she looked an awful lot like the model Daria Werbowy—especially in the wrap dress she was wearing.  After a couple of songs, we'd finished our glasses and I returned to the bar.  I noticed the guy again.  He was closer to me now, his back leaning against the bar as he talked with a couple of people.  He looked over and smiled at me again. He was definitely cute, but I was too afraid to make a move.  There was a chance he was just a friendly guy.  Once I had my drink, I smiled back at him and returned to my friends.  A little while later, I made another trip to the bar.  I ordered another beer, and looked around to my right hoping to find the smiling mystery guy again, unfortunately he'd disappeared.  Shortly after, Sophia returned with my Stella Artois.

            "The tab's under Beauchamp correct?" she asked, correctly pronouncing the French name.

            "Blume, put it on Blume, I've got this one," said a voice to my left.  I turned and there was mystery guy, smiling at me. "Actually, make it two."

"Thanks, Blume," I smiled.

            "It's Hunter actually, Hunter Blume," he replied.

            "Well, thank you Hunter."

            "You're very welcomeÉ?" he said trailing trailed off.

            "Phillip," I replied.

            "Nice to meet you Phillip.  I saw you earlier and tried to get your attention."

            "Oh, I'm sorry.  I saw you talking with that girl, I thought you were just being friendly," I replied and slipped in the later part to make sure he wasn't straight.

            "Just a couple friends down from New York visiting on business for the night.  They wanted me to take them out to see the nightlife scene."

            "Sadly compared to New York there isn't much of a scene," I replied.

            "Yeah, that's what they said.  How about you?  Is that your girlfriend you've been dancing with?" He pried with an easy smile that caused my stomach to flutter a little.

            "The leggy blonde?" I asked with a laugh.  "No, she's just a cute girl I met tonight and have been dancing with.  Not nearly as cute as you though," I continued.  Shit, drunken verbal diarrhea.  I took a long swig from my beer

            "Thanks, you're pretty cute yourself," he replied with a laugh.

            "Do you come here often?" I asked.

            "I'm usually here more for dinner than out for drinks, but I always enjoy myself.  You seem like you're a regular though."

            "Yeah, if we don't go to Cobalt or some dive bar for cheap drinks, this is our Thursday night hang out."

            We continued to chat at the bar.  I normally don't go for older guys, but I couldn't get over how warm his smile and laugh made me feel—or was that the alcohol?  I was drunk when I started talking to him, but an hour and three beers later and I was completely smashed.  It was getting close to last call, and I needed to get home.  I looked everywhere for my friends, but didn't see them anywhere.  I found Daria at a table towards the back of the lounge and she told me that after not being able to find me, my friends had thought I'd left.  She was pretty sure they'd gotten in a cab about a half hour before.  We exchanged numbers and in our drunken states made plans for brunch as some point that weekend.  I stumbled, friendless, to Hunter who was still at the bar.

"I think my friends have already left.  I'm going to go get in a cab," I said to him

"That sounds like a good idea.  Mind if we share?"

"With a pretty smile like that?  Not at all," I slurred.  I was definitely drunk.

"Do I have a little drunkard on my hands?" he asked once we were out of the lounge, very apparent as I stumbled over my own feet.

"No!  I'm not that drunk!" I stated a little too dramatically as I stuck my arm up in an attempt to hail a cab.  "And who are you calling little?"

            "Okay cowboy, whatever you say" he replied with a smile, grabbing my shoulder and stopping me before I stepped out onto the busy street.

            "Pirates are much cooler than cowboys," I said as a cab pulled up.  "Don't get me wrong, cowboys are awesome, but pirates are much cooler.  A pirate would also kick a cowboys ass if they were ever to encounter one another" I continued as we climbed into the car.

            "Oh yeah, you really think so?" he asked humoring me.

            "Obviously!" I said becoming a little too serious about the current topic.

            "I don't know about that, but I do know that a ninja would beat a pirate with his eyes closed."

            "Preposterous!" I exclaimed and began an incoherent ramble about the superiority of pirates over ninjas.  He smiled and me and nodded a couple times then leaned over whispered in my ear, "You're very cute all worked up about this."  The movement of the air past my ear as he spoke sent chills up and down my spine.  It was a good thing I was sitting.  I turned my head to face him.  I was staring directly into his blue eyes, our noses were practically touching and his lips were so close.  I couldn't help myself, I leaned in slightly and our lips touched.  It was one of the softest kisses I'd ever had, but I could have moaned in delight.

            "Do you want to come back to my place?" he asked after a moment of silence between us.  I had to think about this for a moment.  I normally don't go home with guys I meet out, and I had work the next morning, but I couldn't resist his smile, or his charm.

            "Only on one condition."

            "What's that?"

            "We get pizza.  I've got the worst case of drunk munchies."

            "Deal."

            The cab pulled up to a cute row house somewhere in Georgetown.  I was too drunk to remember the address Hunter told the driver.  As soon as I stepped inside I was in awe.  The house looked nice from the outside, but the inside was not what I expected.  Here was a twenty-something who I expected to have a one bedroom is an apartment building somewhere in Dupont, but instead he brought me back to a house in Georgetown that had to be worth at least a million.  The dilapidated and falling down ones are worth half a million for the property alone.

            "Wow, this place is really nice," I said looking around the living room.

            "Yeah?"

            "You must do pretty well to afford a place like this."

            "I get by," he said from behind me, putting his hands on my waist and spinning me around to look at him.  He leaned down and softly pressed his lips against mine.  He kissed me the same way for a couple more minutes, his hands on my waist and mine at my side.  The longer we kissed, the more passion we worked into it, but overall it was very gentle and tender.

            "You're a really good kisser," I mumbled catching my breath once he'd pulled away.

            "You're lips taste like champagne," he stated ruffling my hair. "Can I get you anything? A glass of water? That pizza you wanted?"

            "After all I drank tonight, I could probably use an IV," I joked.

            I followed him into the kitchen and he handed me a bottle of water.  We both leaned against the counter sipping water.  We didn't say anything for a while until I started yawning.  I glanced at the clock on his stove and noticed it was almost 3 AM and I had to be to work in six hours.

            "I should probably get to bed, I've got work in the morning."

            "You and me both.  Not craving pizza anymore."

            "I'll probably pass out before it gets here."

            "Lets head upstairs then," he said grabbing a couple more bottles of water and leading the way out of the kitchen up the stairs to his bedroom.

            "Make yourself comfortable," he told me as he opened the door to his closet and kicked off his shoes.  I sat down on his bed pulling off my own shoes.

"Prada loafers, you must do pretty well for yourself," he said with a sly smile as he sat down on the bed next to me.  I could tell he would going to throw any reference to money right back at me.

"My grandmother gave them to me."

"As well as this Etro shirt you have on?" he asked rubbing his hand up and down my back softly.

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm going to have to buy you another one after I rip it off you," he said with the same sly smile as he pushed me back onto the bed, and then quickly began to kiss me.  I tried to kiss him, but couldn't hold back laughing, and pushed him off from his current position on top of me.

"I haven't heard a line like that in a while," I said between laughs.

"You were too easy to pick up at the bar, I had to get at least one in tonight," he stated as he rolled back on top of me.  Our lips connected again, and we began to kiss softly.  My hands began to roam as the kiss heated up.  They moved from his arms to his head and down his back to his butt.   His hands had worked their way up under my shirt, up my sides, making me squirm and moan as he hit a couple of ticklish spots.  Eventually he pulled back from the kiss, sitting up, and began to unbutton my shirt.  Once he had it off of me, he leaned back down and pecked me on the lips before he began to unbutton his own shirt.  His chest was very nice.  He wasn't too muscled, but had nice definition, especially in his abs, which I couldn't help but run my hands against.

"God you're hot," I said lustfully.

"You've got me so hard," he whispered into my ear as he took my hand and it put it to his crotch.  I could in fact feel something very hard inside his jeans.  I began to lustfully kiss him again as I fumbled with his belt and then the zipper of his jeans.  It took a team effort to get them down his legs.  After a moment, he rolled me on top of him and pulled my jeans off of me, then rolled back on top.  My hands were all over his back, on his stomach, on his chest, on his arms, on his ass.  I was feeling as much of him as I could.  His ass felt amazing as I squeezed and felt it flex as he ground into me.  Then he pulled away from the kiss.

"Sorry stud, but I've got the use the bathroom," he said pecking me on the lips and then getting off the bed.  I stared up at the white ceiling as he went into his bathroom, closing the door behind him.  I heard the water of the sink turn on, and then the faint sound of him urinating. `What a gentleman,' I thought.  Between exhaustion from a day at work, a hard workout at the gym and in combination with alcohol, my eyelids felt very heavy.

            "Sorry, I didn't realize where I was for a moment.  Did I pass out while you were in the bathroom?" I asked, slightly embarrassed.

            "Yeah, kind of."         

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it.  It was late, you were drunk.  We've all had nights like that," he said smiling again.  My stomach fluttered a little.  There was something about his smile that went right to my loins as well as eased my hangover.

"If it's any consolation, I was thoroughly enjoying myself before I passed out," I stated sliding closer to him on the bed.

            "Oh yeah?" he said his smile becoming a little more mischievous as he leaned in closer to me, his hand moving from my knee up the inside of my thigh a little.

            "Yeah," I said as I leaned in and kissed him.  His lips were soft like silk.  We continued to kiss for a moment, before he pulled away.

            "I'd love to continue where we left off, but I've got a meeting with a client this morning and really need to get to work."

            "It's okay, I've got work myself.  What time is it?"

            "It's ten past eight," he replied.  "What time do you have to be in?"

            "Not until ten."

            "Well go back to sleep, I've got to get dressed.  I'll wake you up when I'm almost ready to leave."

            "Okay," I said and laid back shutting my eyes and heard him go into his closet. I felt his hand on my shoulder what seemed like seconds later.

            "Time to get up, sleepyhead."

            "Do I have to?"

            "Well, I'll give you a ride home if you get up now, but you're welcome to stay if you want," he said softly.

            "Fucking work," I mumbled as I sat up on the edge of the bed.

            "Well, I'm going downstairs to make myself coffee, you want any?"

            "No, thanks though," I replied between yawns.  I relieved myself in the bathroom, pulled on my cloths from the night before and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

            "Why do hangovers have to be so persistent?" I ask as I walked into the kitchen.  He was reading the Washington Post drinking a cup of coffee.  When he was upstairs I hadn't even noticed he had a suit on.  It was tailored to his form perfectly, showing his slim waist, chest and arms.  From the slim styling I was guessing it as Gucci or Dior.  He looked up from the paper and smiled.

            "I poured you a glass of orange juice," he said pointing to a glass on the counter.

            "Well aren't you a gentleman.  Thank you," I replied, gulping it down.  I really needed to polish up my manners.

            "You have everything?" he asked grabbing his car keys and briefcase.

            "Yeah, I think so.  Keys, wallet, phone, yeah that's everything," I replied patting my ass and other pockets to make sure I did in fact have everything.

He led the way out the front door, locking it behind us.  It was bright outside.  My eyes hurt and I wished I'd had a pair of sunglasses on me.  We walked a short distance down the block to the car that beeped and flashed it's lights as it unlocked.  I walked around to the passenger side and climbed up inside of his silver Range Rover Sport.  It wasn't even 9 o'clock and yet it was already pretty warm out.  I could tell it was going to be a hot summer day.

"So, where am I taking you?" He asked after he started up the car and pulled away from the parking spot.

            "15th and I please, next to Georgia Brown's."

            "Perfect, that's right on the way to my office."

            The rest of the ride from Georgetown to my apartment continued in silence as we listened to the music playing from the iPod he had connected. Soon we were pulling up to my building, and I looked over at him with a smile, not sure where we were leaving this.

            "Here's my card," he said handing me a business card he fished our of the center console.  "It's got everything on it except my cell, but calling my office is the best way to get in touch with me."

            "Okay," I replied.

            "Okay," he too stated.

            "Well, I had a lot of fun last night, and again, thank you for the ride."

            "It was the least I could do.  Thanks for the conversation and a fun time last night.  I hope we can do it again soon," he said with a smile, putting his hand on my knee and squeezing it gently.

            "Yeah, I'll definitely give you a call," I stated pulling the latch and opening the door.  "Bye," I said leaning over and kissing him softly on the lips.

            "Have a good day at work," he said as I climbed down from the seat.

Questions, comments?  Washingtonian2008@gmail.com

Copyright 2007

Next: Chapter 2


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