Hipster Brothel (contemporary gay romance)

by K. A. Merikan

  Soft as a marshmallow, he let Jo roll him over to his back and groaned when the firm body lay on top of him, smooth, and warm, and wonderful. He could still hardly believe this was his life now. He hugged Jo tightly and kissed his neck.

  “You’re not too sore?” Mr. B murmured into Jo’s skin, more than happy to be of service with his cock. The pegging thing had taken him by such surprise, and now that he’d had Jo’s ass twice, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  Jo grinned. “I am sore. Thank you,” he said and climbed even higher up Mr. B’s body. Laying his face against Mr. B’s, he looked completely at ease. With them pressed together like this, it became almost too hot under the comforter, so Jo pushed it off them in a careless gesture. The warm air felt good on their bare skin, and so did Jo’s hair where it slid down B’s shoulder.

  Mr. B slid his hands to the sides of Jo’s face. “If I’d known sooner…” He smiled despite a prickle of guilt. If he’d known sooner then… what? He’d have broken up with Mr. A? He’d have cheated? He’d have taken the opportunity the open relationship with Mr. A had provided? He wasn’t that kind of guy.

  Jo’s eyes swept over his face, all the way to meet his gaze, but he didn’t say anything, waiting. What did he want to hear?

  “You’re so damn handsome,” Mr. B said, hoping the other topic would drift away and be forgotten.

  “I know right? Such a temptation right under your nose,” said Jo with a soft sigh and looked at Mr. B’s nipple, teasing it with his fingertip.

  “I didn’t want to perv on a straight friend.” Mr. B arched to the touch, still amazed at how open and confident Jo was despite having no previous experience with guys.

  “I didn’t want to tell you. You were in a relationship, and if I told you it would feel like... like I had to do something about it, because I never really wanted another guy this much,” said Jo, gently rolling Mr. B’s nipple between his fingers.

  “So you were waiting for me and Mr. A to break up?” Mr. B wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

  Jo flinched and gave a soft sigh. “What would you have had me rather do?”

  Mr. B slid his hands to Jo’s ass. “There’s no point dissecting it now, but I wonder what it would have been like to know and be able to talk about gay stuff with you. But I admit it would have been dangerous territory.”

  Jo groaned and rose to his elbows, digging them into the flesh of Mr. B’s chest. “You always talked to me about gay stuff. I just... didn’t want to tempt myself,” Jo said in the end, still so flushed, his mouth swollen from all the kisses they’d shared.

  Mr. B racked his brain for a while. “Point taken. I just didn’t tell you about sex with Mr. A, but I wouldn’t have told you about it anyway, so yeah.”

  Jo scowled. “It’s not like we can change it now. It just bugs me that Mr. A thinks I’ve been flirting with you, or whatever. I have rules.”

  Mr. B couldn’t focus much on Jo’s rules, too busy dipping his fingers into the slick heat between Jo’s buttocks. They felt so good to the touch. Their flesh was firm, yet round. “So… where do we go from here?”

  Jo licked his lips, purring like the happiest of cats and rubbing the tops of his feet against Mr. B’s shins. “You’re distracting me. Can’t think...”

  “Because you feel so good…” Mr. B arched up and grabbed Jo’s jaw with his teeth. “My dick fits so well in there.”

  Jo whimpered, humping Mr. B gently. “Are all dicks as tasty as yours?” he teased, rolling his hips against Mr. B’s stomach, as if he wanted more already.

  “No. Mine’s the best. Mine’s the only one you need.” Mr. B bit his lip, unwilling to move from this cozy spot. Would this be how his life would look like now? Were they together-together? Would they spend Christmas in each other’s company? Would Jo move in with him?

  The door opened unexpectedly, and in a split second, a high-pitched yelp thundered through the room. Jo rolled off Mr. B, pulling the comforter back up. “Mom? What are you doing here?”

  Mrs. Lau faced away from them, holding a plastic basket of black clothes in her hands and dressed in a pink tracksuit—the exact opposite of the casually elegant clothes Mr. B had seen her in before. “I— I thought you were out for the weekend. This is your laundry. I... is that a naked man in your bed?” she asked, still looking back at the staircase.

  “Your mom does your laundry?” Mr. B whispered with a frown, busy covering himself with a pillow, because Jo hoarded the comforter. “I’m sorry Mrs. Lau! It’s just me, Mr. B.”

  “She won’t let me touch her washing machine,” Jo said, scrambling to the bedside table. He pulled out a pair of black underpants and fumbled to put them on under the comforter.

  Mrs. Lau bowed her head with a loud exhale. “Really, Jo? You’ve hidden this from your own mother? What about all the girlfriends you brought home? I was certain you’re going to start a family with Juniper.”

  Jo rolled his face against the pillow. “God, Mom... do we have to discuss Juniper now? We broke up long ago!”

  Mr. B reached his own briefs in the hope of Mrs. Lau not turning back in the worst possible moment. He pulled them on quickly, hardly believing this was happening. If he were Jo, he’d be freaking out. “It’s not like that, Mrs. Lau, Jo likes girls too.”

  “I’m bisexual, Mom,” Jo said in the end and put on last night’s top. “And I didn’t tell you, because there was nothing to tell before. It’s not like I was lying.”

  She slowly turned around, after making sure they were both partially dressed, and there was no way to interpret her stern gaze, because that was how she looked even when she was happy. “This is a bit much to take in,” she said and pointedly placed the basket of Jo’s clothes on the mattress, as if to signal that frolicking was over.

  Jo cleared his throat, sitting cross-legged and with his knees moving up and down in a constant, nervous rhythm. “Don’t freak out, please.”

  Mr. B pulled on his shirt, trying not to panic. The last thing he wanted was to make a bad impression on Mrs. Lau. She might even become his mother-in-law one day, so this was really less than optimal.

  “I never ‘freak out’,” Mrs. Lau said, looking stormier by the second.

  “Okay, you don’t freak out. So don’t get mad, okay? I know this is surprising, but you know I need to follow my heart,” Jo said.

  Mrs. Lau rolled her eyes. “You’ve followed your heart so far, and look at you now. Living in my basement at twenty-five and writing made-up stories about celebrities for a living.”

  Jo’s mouth opened, and he slumped forward, clearly out of ammunition.

  “It’s all on the right track, Mrs. Lau.” Mr. B stepped in, desperate to make Jo look good in front of his own mother. “Jo’s saved up a lot thanks to the job, and we’re planning a new business venture. We’ll be making alcoholic jams.”

  Mrs. Lau rubbed her face in a way so reminiscent of Jo it made Mr. B’s heart soften a bit. “He did not save any money. I know how many clothes he buys. And the last shoes? Several hundred dollars. He’ll never be able to buy a house at this rate.”

  “They’re quality. Gonna have them for years to come,” Jo mumbled.

  “Maybe it would make some sense if you didn’t have twenty pairs still waiting in their boxes already.”

  Jo sighed. “Mom, this is weird. Can we agree on the actual topic? You’re fine with me and Mr. B, right?” he added hopefully.

  Mrs. Lau’s eyes turned to Mr. B like two sharp darts. “I’ve always liked Mr. B. He’s good husband material.”

  Jo swallowed hard, and his knees wiggled with even greater intensity. “Okay. I’m glad... you accept me.”

  Mr. B dared a smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Lau.”

  Jo glanced at him with a soft sigh. “So yeah. Alcoholic jams.”

  Mrs. Lau shook her head. “Give yourself a time limit, and then get a real job when it doesn’t work out.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” muttered Jo with a degree of sarcasm that would be effective at s
ilencing most people, but not Mrs. Lau.

  “Besides, doing business with your life partner is not a good idea.”

  “God, Mom!” Jo lay back on the pillows. “We’re just dating...ish. Where do you get this stuff?”

  Mrs. Lau raised her eyebrows. “Well, Mr. B worked for his ex-boyfriend, and look how that ended up.”

  Mr. B swallowed, unsure how to feel about his love life being discussed this way. “Um… We’re just seeing where things go…” The last thing he wanted was for Jo to think he was needy. He had to show Jo that he’d matured about these things. Especially since Jo said they were ‘just dating’. He could not afford damaging any chance at a real relationship with him through clingy behavior.

  Mrs. Lau shook her head. “Mr. B, you need to work on my son, or he will be an old bachelor. We’re all worried about him.”

  “Mom, can we talk about this later?” Jo moaned.

  Mrs. Lau ignored him and gave Mr. B one of her rare wide smiles. “Would you like some breakfast? I was just about to put the casserole into the oven.”

  Mr. B dared to smile back, and said “Yes, please,” before he thought of checking in with Jo about it. But it was Mrs. Lau’s casserole. How could he be expected to resist it?

  “Lovely,” she said, self-satisfied. “Be ready in half an hour.” And with that, she was off.

  Jo let out a groan of absolute exhaustion. “I’m dead.”

  Mr. B lay down next to him and pulled him into a hug, still amazed by how natural it felt to touch Jo this way. The transition from friend to lover had been seamless so far.

  “It’s all right. She didn’t seem angry…”

  Jo gave a low laugh. “Oh, she was not angry. She was on the lookout for fresh roadkill. Save your soul, Mr. B, or you’ll soon be invited to a family occasion, and everyone will ask you when the two of us are getting married.”

  Mr. B laughed nervously, wondering if that would be such a bad thing. It clearly was for Jo. “So you’d rather keep things casual?”

  Jo blinked and rolled into Mr. B’s arms, softly playing with his chest hair. “I mean... this is all super new. Don’t you think we should keep things slow?”

  “No! I do! I do! I just wanted to make sure what you wanted. It’s a lot for you to deal with. Coming out and all that. I don’t wanna push you.” He stroked Jo’s back, slightly disappointed that they hadn’t established a real relationship, but he’d take what he could get as long as he could hold Jo like this. Maybe it was for the better? “We don’t need to put a label on it, or anything.”

  Jo smiled so sweetly it was like a reward for going with this scenario. “Thanks. It really is a bit crazy. I think I need some transitional time, you know?” he asked, entwining his fingers with Mr. B’s.

  “Yes, definitely. All the time you need. And I’ve got stuff going on as well. The relationship with Mr. A was a real eye-opener, and I’m a new kind of Mr. B now. More chilled out. No need to rush, right?” He gave Jo a kiss. Lies, lies, all lies. He’d claim Jo in a heartbeat if he could get away with it.

  Jo grinned and pulled Mr. B’s head against his neck. “So, those boozy jams. Maybe we should actually make some first, and you know, do a tasting with our friends.”

  “Let’s do that. Especially since the fermentation takes a while. So by the time we’re ready with the recipe, I’ll have money saved up as well, and I can wrap up the brothel. And with all this new, fresh decor, the train will get a second life as a home once I’m done with that project.” Mr. B swallowed hard as he said that, closely watching his friend for a reaction. Would Jo want to object in these circumstances? Would he uphold his opinion about the brothel being a bad idea?

  Jo exhaled and pressed his lips against Mr. B’s. “How much money do you think you’ll need to earn? So that we can optimize the costs. Did you talk to your family about the fruit for jams?”

  Mr. B leaned into the kiss for that bit longer. “A few thousand, to make a decent batch, get labels, branding… I need to put it all in a spreadsheet or something.” And he hadn’t even decided yet how much he actually wanted to charge for his Lumbersexual Experience.

  Jo nodded, petting his beard. “Sure. If that’s what you want, I will help you out. It’s good to have at least a 20 percent profit margin. What’s your idea though? Will you want to continue working this second job once you have enough money? Oh, and since it’s only you gathering the funds, you will have to employ me. I don’t want to just leech off you, because there is hardly anything I’d bring in as a partner.”

  “Y-yeah.” Mr. B swallowed, suddenly overwhelmed by the size of the venture. But at least he could see Jo was taking it seriously. “Maybe I’ll keep the other job… casually. Like freelancing, if money gets too tight. I’m almost ready to start.” Mr. B wasn’t sure what to make of Jo’s sudden change of mind about the brothel. Had he decided it simply needed to be done since they didn’t have any money to invest?

  Jo stretched. “Great. We will make a list of all the things you still need to prepare to kickstart this thing, and I will help you. We will add more items as needed, until you are satisfied. Okay?” he asked, smiling at Mr. B.

  “Oh… okay. Thanks. That’s… great. Really great, because it wasn’t as fun to develop it on my own.” Mr. B leaned over for a kiss. “Maybe we could dig up a space for a hot tub outside?”

  Jo nodded. “That’s a great idea. I bet the guests would love that. And I wouldn’t mind using it too. And maybe you could make sunbeds?”

  Mr. B’s smile widened at the idea of lounging in a sunbed next to Jo, drinking their own booze out of jars. “Let’s do that.”

  Jo flinched when a loud ringing resonated all the way from upstairs. “She’s calling.”

  Mr. B’s worries dissolved. “Mmm… Casserole.”

  Chapter 7

  Jo hated the brothel idea. He absolutely loathed it. Every day he regretted joking around about it in the first place, but since he’d set his mind to ‘helping’ Mr. B with it, he was becoming more convinced that it was the right course of action. Mr. B was eager to work on new elements for the brothel, as if all he wanted was to delay the actual escorting jobs. Which made sense, because Jo was sure Mr. B wasn’t as comfortable with the concept as he’d been claiming.

  The problem was that it had been three weeks since they’d gotten together, and instead of waning, Mr. B’s enthusiasm for the project seemed to have grown, and it was work and money going down the drain in preparation for something that ultimately wasn’t likely to happen. Jo had clearly underestimated Mr. B’s resolve when he decided to act counterintuitively and support him until Mr. B understood himself what a horrible idea this whole venture was.

  Especially because they’d gotten really close in the last few weeks. Closer than they’d ever been, with sleepovers on an almost daily basis, cheap dates (because all the money went into the contorted business idea) that somehow felt luxurious, and the sex. Oh, the sex.

  Mr. B gave the most amazing head on the planet. He was sweet. He was giving. He was fun to be around, even in bed where most people tended to be somewhat too serious. Being with him was such a revelation that Jo clung to it every day, still overwhelmed by how he’d gotten so lucky.

  The promotional shoot for the leaflets and website was a lot of fun, with Jo having the opportunity to help Mr. B get ready, but that was mostly because in the proximity of Mr. B’s dick, Jo found it difficult to think reasonably and simply had to put his mouth on it. The photos did turn out as great as all the fun happening throughout the photoshoot, but when Jo actually looked through them, he couldn’t help but feel they were too good. Too hot.

  They would entice people to have a taste of Mr. B, and Jo was getting nauseated just thinking about it.

  So Jo lost them. Or at least he ‘lost’ them. Hidden in a folder on his computer they would still be his secret pleasure, and when all this brothel nonsense blew over, he could pretend he’d found them, and have a laugh with Mr. B about it.

  They were
meeting in a cafe in town today, and Mr. B joked that it would be their first real date, but when Jo saw him park his bicycle with a little bouquet of roses in hand, he blanked.

  Jo crooked his head and slowly pushed his hands into his pockets, watching Mr. B dismount from his place at the table by the window. B looked different too, even if the flowers were the first thing that grabbed Jo’s attention. His jeans were darker and narrower on the legs that his usual pants, and he wore a fitted shirt in olive-green that made Mr. B’s hair look brighter. Jo’s skin tingled with an odd mixture of desire and fright.

  God, was this really a date? Would he be presented with the flowers? How should he react? Guys didn’t get roses.

  And yet, he froze completely and just watched Mr. B approach, dead to the jazz music playing in the background and voices of patrons.

  Mr. B’s face lit up in a wide smile the moment he spotted Jo. He was so handsome Jo’s thoughts drifted to one of the things they hadn’t done in bed yet because he was still in the phase of being unable to get enough of Mr. B’s dick. But looking at the cheeks reddened after the bike ride, the big arms, the thick thighs… Jo was certain he wanted B’s legs around him, plump lips begging for Jo’s cock, his arms around Jo as they moved together in the heat of the sun outside the train car.

  Mr. B waved at him, running up a few paces, as if he wanted to reach Jo even faster. Despite his stomach sinking at the sight of the flowers, Jo smiled, straightening his back when Mr. B walked through the cafe, catching everyone’s eyes with his handsome, tall form. No doubt they all wondered who the flowers were for, and that in turn made Jo slightly uncomfortable. He didn’t think he’d ever given a girlfriend flowers. Not since high school when he was still dependent on such tricks. But he knew anything Mr. B did was genuine, and he wasn’t sure what to do about this knowledge.