by Jason Lloyd
“Hey. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show, and then I remembered you’re always late. You’re on ‘Darling time,’” Ethan said with a smirk.
I smiled at him and sat in the high-back chair across from him. “Sorry.”
An awkward silence had taken over, and we sat there avoiding eye contact with one another. Stephen, our server popped out of nowhere and placed my Grey Goose on the rocks down in front of me. I never had to an order my drinks at Sparkle. The staff all knew what I wanted and put my drinks on my tab. This was both a good thing and a bad thing. The good thing was I never had to wait for my drink; the bad thing was I’m predictable; I always get the same thing. And when you just put drinks on a tab you’re liable to forget how many you’ve had. I’ve been a hot mess many times.
“Would you like another dirty martini, sir?” Stephen asked Ethan.
“Y-yeah,” Stephen stuttered slightly. He seemed just as nervous as I was. I had a million questions for him, but no words would come out. For once in my life, I didn’t have a sarcastic remark to hide behind.
Stephen appeared a few minutes later with the martini and placed it in front of Ethan.
“Thanks,” Ethan said.
“I’ll be back in a little bit to check on you both. Enjoy your drinks,” Stephen said.
I stared at Ethan’s martini glass. Two little olives stabbed with a cocktail pick resembling a small sword stared back at me with their pimento eyes. I could feel my anxiety slowly build.
“I searched for you,” I managed to mumble finally, while I looked down at my glass of libations. The Grey Goose must be kicking in, I thought.
“Daniel…,” Ethan said quietly. His voice was slightly raspy as if he swallowed a bagful of cotton balls or sucked a bunch of big black eggplant cocks during lunch.
I looked up from my glass and into his eyes. In this dark club, only I could see the sparkle of color in his eyes. Everyone else was colorblind. I knew he was hurting, but there was a glimmer of the old Ethan still in there. He just needed to be coaxed out.
“I searched for you—after what happened. After a week went by of me trying to get ahold of you, I finally went to your house. Your mom told me you moved to Europe, and she wouldn’t give me a way to contact you. I spent a year in Europe trying to find you. I checked places we went on vacation and the places I knew you loved and places you wanted to visit but hadn’t yet… nothing. Ethan, I did what I did to protect you, to protect us. I loved you.”
“You destroyed me,” Ethan murmured.
I didn’t know what to say. My heart was in my throat. I knocked back my Grey Goose to wash it down.
“I’m sorry I just left. I loved you too,” he sighed. “I wasn’t in Europe, Danny. My family just told people that. They made up a lie, saying I was there getting my master’s degree. It was all a lie.”
“Where have you been?” I asked.
“I spent two and a half years in Buckingham Clinic. I’m now on outpatient therapy.”
“Wait, you were in a looney bin less than thirty minutes away?” I asked rather heatedly.
“It’s not a looney bin!” Ethan snapped. “It’s one of the top psychiatric hospitals in Pennsylvania!”
I could sense he was annoyed by what I said. “I’m sorry.”
“I went into a catatonic state. My parents didn’t know what to do, so they placed me in Buckingham and left me there. Like your family, my family has a reputation to uphold and to have a crazy son isn’t part of the Thorne’s legacy. Everything was kept hush, hush.”
“How long were you like that?” I asked.
“To be honest, I don’t know exactly. Over a year. Most of the time, I was in a vegetative state. They force-fed me through a tube. I was a prisoner of my thoughts. One day I just snapped out of it, but couldn’t remember why I was there or what was going on. The doctors said I suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, which led to Dissociative Amnesia.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Trauma caused me to lose part of my memory.” Ethan took a sip of his martini. His hands were shaking. “I remember everything now. It took almost another year, but my memory came back one night while I was sleeping. No one knows I have my memory back. When I showed signs of improvement, they let me leave thinking it would help me remember. My family has been keeping me a secret. I was only allowed to go from the house to my doctor appointments and then home right away.” Ethan then leaned in and whispered, “They don’t know I’m here. I snuck out.”
“You told me earlier today that someone knew? What’s going on? Who did you tell?” My voice raised slightly.
“I didn’t tell anyone. Like I said, the doctors and my parents don’t know I have my memory back. I found my old phone in my mom’s desk drawer about a week ago. I charged it and turned it back on. I started to get weird texts from an unknown number.”
“What kinda texts?”
“They started off kind of taunting me, like: ‘I know what you did.’ Then they turned scary, threatening to cut me. After he said that, Ethan was shaking so badly he couldn’t even hold his martini without spilling. He reached into his pocket, grabbed a prescription bottle of pills, and popped two in his mouth. With both hands, he steadied the martini glass and brought it to his mouth to wash them down.
“What are those for?” I asked.
“Anxiety,” he said as he finished his martini. “It gets the better of me.”
“So, can I see these text messages?”
“I deleted them all. I was afraid my mom would catch me with the phone and see them if she confiscated it. I didn’t want to risk her asking me questions about them.”
“Oh.”
“I’m telling you the truth, Daniel!” There must have been doubt in my voice, and there was. My ex-lover just got out of a mental hospital six months ago, and I’m supposed to believe every word he tells me now. I did believe that he thought they were real, whether they were real or not. If you say it enough, you will believe in the lie, you believe in the delusion.
“I believe you,” I said. “I believe you got those texts, but it’s probably just some dumb kid playing a prank or something. It’s been years, Ethan; it can’t be about the same thing.”
“I don’t know, maybe,” Ethan said.
“I moved on and we shouldn’t be talking about this any longer in case someone hears.” I glanced around the club. It’s still empty. There’s a guy standing in the shadows over by the bar. I can’t make out his face, but I do have an eerie feeling he is watching us, but this is a gay bar, and I would say that Ethan and I are fucking hot. What guy wouldn’t stare? He is probably just eye fucking us. “I’m going to run to the bathroom. Get Stephen to get us another round then. Maybe another drink will steady your nerves.”
“Okay.”
They called the bathroom in the V.I.P Lounge The Red Light Special Room. Men used this bathroom to hook up with one another. They used red light bulbs to make the entire bathroom red. I think the red bulbs are used to hide all the cum stains.
The bathroom was large. It had five stalls, and a large style trough urinal that ran against one side. The trough urinal provided no privacy. It, of course, was intentionally set up that way. It was common to “lend a hand” while pissing. Guys into water sports would stand there, watch, and stroke. It was definitely not for the pee-shy. Josh refused to use it. He once had a guy ask him to piss on him. Josh was traumatized ever since then and only used the bathroom stalls or the bathroom out in the main club.
Mirrors and sinks were lined up on the other side of the bathroom and up against each of the ends were large plush benches. I’ve seen guys have sex on these benches. I will never sit on them.
Some of the stalls had glory holes in them. The stall in the middle actually had two glory holes. You could lean on the toilet, get fucked up the ass anonymously and suck off some anonymous guy’s dick in front of you all while keeping everyone’s identity a secret. They called this stall the Secret Spi
t Roaster. Personally, I have never done it, but I do know my friend Michael had a few times. He’s into all that kinky shit.
Currently, the bathroom was empty, but I expect an orgy happening in here at some point in the evening. Since I’m all alone, I walked over to the trough, unbuttoned my jeans, and started to relieve myself of the vodka. As I stood there aiming for the drain in the trough, I could sense someone was standing behind me watching me. I found it odd that he wasn’t standing next to me, staring at my junk, getting a good eyeful of frank and beans. Perhaps it was the shy guy that stood in the shadows by the bar.
“Um, there’s plenty of room. If you like to watch that’s not the place to do it,” I said sarcastically. He didn’t answer. I heard footsteps inching closer. I turned my head slightly and saw a figure. He got closer. My mystery man was now directly behind me. I looked down to my left and saw his black Christian Dior loafer next to my shoe, Ethan’s favorite brand. I could smell his cologne Yves Saint Laurent Homme, which was Ethan’s signature scent.
“Ethan? I know it is you. Nice shoes. I bought them for you, remember?”
Ethan whispered, “Yeah.”
I had just finished peeing, and I felt Ethan’s hands reach around to my penis.
“Oh, you wanna help, huh?” I said. He shook my cock a few times. “Three shakes and you’re playing with it.”
I could feel his breath on my neck, his body pressed up against mine. I instantly became hard. I missed him. I missed his touch.
“You’re turning me on so much,” I said with yearning breath.
He played with my cock, getting it thoroughly aroused. I could feel his excitement pressed against my backside. He wanted me. I slid my jeans and underwear down more revealing my ass, bent forward, placed my hands on the red wall, and hovered over the trough. I was ready. I was ready to receive all that he would give.
“Fuck me now, Ethan. I know you want it.”
I heard footsteps back away and then they disappeared. I looked behind me; he was gone. What did I do, I thought. I pulled my jeans up, tucked my semi away, and walked over to the sink to wash my hands. I smelt Ethan’s cologne lingering in the air still. I looked into the mirror and studied my reflection.
Maybe he wasn’t ready. We have so much baggage; maybe it was best we don’t attempt to open it. What hurts me the most is that we separated not because we did not love each other, but because we did not know how to love each other after everything that happened. I would be lying to myself if I said I did not have feelings for him still. Perhaps we would never be able to have “no strings attached” sex. Maybe we are too attached.
I walked out of the bathroom slightly dazed, slightly confused and ran right into Ethan.
“There you are,” he said.
“Did you change your mind?” I asked. I half hoped the answer was yes.
“Huh?”
That’s when I saw it. Ethan wasn’t wearing black Dior loafers; he had on white tennis shoes. I stared at them, freaked out. My eyes grew big.
“Where’s your Dior?” I asked, pointing at his feet, waving my finger.
“My shoes? They are at home. I know you don’t approve of the tennis shoes, but it’s been a while since I’ve worn those loafers. I didn’t want my feet to hurt tonight.”
I looked around the lounge. There were only three other guys in the place. I looked at all their shoes, but nothing matched.
“I need to sit down,” I said. I felt dizzy, confused. Who fondled me in the fucking bathroom?
We sat back at our table. Ethan handed me my vodka, and I took a sip to calm my nerves.
“I was getting worried about you in there. I was about to send a search party,” Ethan laughed.
“Did you see anyone go in or out of the bathroom?” I asked.
“No, just you. This place is dead right now. What’s the matter?”
I looked around the lounge again. Then back into Ethan’s baby blues. “Nothing,” I said. I thought it was better to lie. Apparently, some guy wanted to hook up and then he changed his mind at the last minute. I must have done something to turn him off. “Hey, so Josh should be here in about thirty minutes and then my other friends are gonna show.”
“Are you telling me you want me to leave?” Ethan asked.
“No, but don’t you think it would be easier if you did? Do you really want to explain to everyone where you were the last three years?”
“You’re embarrassed? Aren’t you? You’re embarrassed that I was in a mental hospital, and you don’t want your friends to know,” Ethan said angrily.
“That’s not it. I feel like we should take this one-step at a time. What would you tell the others? You can’t tell them where you were without telling them what happened. You know Josh and Nathan, they are going to ask where you’ve been, and the others don’t even know you. It’s not the best first impression.” I said.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
“Don’t be mad.” I placed my hand on top of his, and he forced a smile at me.
“Can I see you later tonight? Afterward?” Ethan asked.
My first thought was Damien. He was going to wait for me to get home tonight. My second thought was, do I want to get involved with Ethan again? I’m still trying to process this whole thing. I think my mind had moved on but had my heart?
“It’s going to be late by the time I get home tonight. How about you come over tomorrow morning. I’m supposed to meet the boys out for brunch tomorrow. We can figure out what you can tell them about where you’ve been, tomorrow. Josh and Nathan will be happy to see you. You haven’t seen them since college graduation. Then you can meet my other friends, Michael, and Blake.”
“Okay,” Ethan murmured. He drank the last sip of his martini, got up from his chair and looked down at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaned down and lightly kissed me on the lips, parting my lips slightly with his tongue. I could taste the saltiness from the olive juice, and I felt the electricity penetrate through my body. His lips could either seduce me or wound me. I was dying to know which one would win over. My heart definitely was not over him.
the new lover
august 17, 2014
1:45am
THE NIGHT WAS LIKE ANY other with my boys… drinks, drugs, and debauchery. Josh met someone. He seemed polite, but I’m always leery of new people. He watched us for the longest time before coming over. Maybe he was the guy that was watching Ethan and me earlier in the evening. Maybe he was the guy from the bathroom, I don’t know. There was something in the way he looked at me, something I did not like. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Josh was smitten, though.
Nathan was jealous of Josh’s new potential beau. He always had a “thing” for Josh—it border-lined an obsession. Nathan has had this crush since college. I don’t know how Josh doesn’t see it. After sulking around for a couple hours, Nathan ended up leaving early. He said he had a meeting with a “client” in the morning, but I don’t buy it. He knows I know his secret. When Josh finds out, there will be drama bombs exploding everywhere. I hope I’m not around when they explode.
My friend Blake, apparently, met some eighteen-year-old who snuck into the bar with a fake ID. None of us met the kid or even saw him. Blake said they met when he went to the bathroom. I can understand the obsession with the younger ones. There was one waiting for me at home. I had never seen Blake be “into” a guy before, so this eighteen-year-old must be special. He texted me that they left, and he would see me tomorrow for brunch. I can’t wait to hear the about the dirty goodness.
Michael scored us some coke. We did bumps in the bathroom under the red light. Later, I walked in on Michael being fucked by a big black man we called, “Boo Boo.” He had a ten-inch cock. I stood there in shock as Boo Boo plummeted into Michael’s ass. The slapping sound and the image will forever be burned into my retinas!
“Ugh, my eyes! MY EYES!” I screamed.
Boo Boo’s balls stopped slapping against Michael’s taint, and they both tilted their heads
in my direction.
“S-sorry guys. My bad. Michael, I’ll wait for you outside. Carrying on.” I slowly walked backward toward the exit, but tripped over my own two feet, and landed on my butt on the dirty bathroom floor. Boo Boo hobbled over to me still fully erect, wearing only a condom and a smile. His dick swayed from side to side slapping against his skin the closer he got to me. The theme song to Jaws played in my head (duunnn dunnn...duuuuunnnn duun…).
His bagged purple pounder was directly in front of my face. The smell of lube, latex, and Michael’s backdoor made me queasy. A glob of fluid hung off Boo Boo’s cock. I don’t want to touch this thing, but I cannot look away, I thought. Boo Boo started to reach out his hand to help me up.
“Ya aight?” he asked.
I shook my head, “yes” and got up before he got any closer. He almost mushroom stamped me. I could have been blinded by that thing! It was traumatizing.
Between the drugs, drinks and mind-blowing pounding, Michael couldn’t even walk when he came out of the bathroom. I drove him home after I sobered up and helped him to bed. He will have a massive headache and sore ass in the morning.
I just pulled into my driveway. Damien was waiting for me in the pool house. The front of the pool house was a wall of windows that overlooked our Olympic-sized swimming pool. The morning light that shone through those windows was beautiful. You could stay quite comfortable in the pool house. It was set up like a small house. It had an open floor plan of one giant room. The kitchen and living room was separated by a bookcase, and the bedroom had huge white floor screens that slid out from the wall for privacy.
I could see the flickering light in the windows. Damien had candles lit. He tried so hard sometimes. Most times, I was barely there. I hoped tonight it would cancel each other out, and I could feel. I wanted to feel something that wasn’t complicated. I knew Damien was young, and no one knew about us, but it worked. I used him a lot for sex, but truthfully speaking, I cared for him. I kept my feelings to myself, but that didn’t mean I didn’t care. I knew that he loved me, and he wanted more, but I couldn’t do that right now. Maybe in time.
