“Leathers like ... kinky shit, right? Whips and chains and stuff?”
“A lot of the time it is. It’s not just BDSM though. For some people, it’s just a subculture built around a certain way of dressing and acting. A type of erotic fashion and, basically, a framework of how to behave.”
“Huh. I guess I don’t know that much about the history of places like this.” Brent chuckled. “Which is funny because I roomed with a history major. Nathan would be all about this.”
“I made it a point to take the LGBTQ and gender studies classes at Western,” Lowell said.
“I vaguely remember seeing they were an option but ...”
“Yeah, you couldn’t have taken them without throwing up some red flags,” Lowell said. “But feel free to consider me your queer tour guide for the rest of the summer.”
Brent let out a huffing laugh. “Thanks, I think.”
His jaw dropped as they passed a store window filled with sex toys and fetish gear. “Holy shit. Is that what I think it is?”
Lowell smiled to himself. “I don’t know; what do you think it is?”
“You don’t have to make fun of me.” His tone was a little defensive.
“I’m not making fun of you at all,” Lowell said, grabbing Brent’s elbow. “You’re cute.” Brent shot him an incredulous look. “I mean it.”
Brent’s cheeks colored, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, pulling away from Lowell. “You probably think I’m an idiot. I’ve just never seen a place like this, in person.” Brent gestured around them. “I mean, I’ve seen like ... lingerie shops with novelty sex toys for straight people, but that’s about it. I grew up in what’s pretty much the most conservative part of Michigan, and most of the traveling I did was with the hockey team. I am so not used to seeing anything.”
“That’s what I mean. I grew up with it, and I forget what it’s like to experience everything openly queer for the first time. I hadn’t realized how jaded I’ve gotten. It’s nice to see it all through fresh eyes.”
“If you say so.” Brent sounded doubtful.
Lowell took pity on him and changed the subject. “C’mon, there’s a great little sports bar around the corner. Let’s just hang out there and have a drink tonight.”
He was convinced Brent would sprain something if they went to a gay club right off the bat. Better to go slowly and let him acclimate.
Chapter Five
May 27, 2013 – Chicago, Illinois
Brent
“... ninety-three, ninety-four, ninety-five ...”
Brent lifted his head from the pillow, blearily blinking at the sight in front of him. “Wha’ the fuck?”
Lowell lay on his back on the floor between the beds, legs together and raised six inches, arms stretched out and pumping up and down. “... ninety-nine, one hundred.” He lowered his head, arms, and legs to the mat below him and turned his head to look at Brent. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“... the fuck are you doin’?” Brent asked, his words slurring a little from sleep.
Lowell gave him a sunny smile. “They’re called one hundreds. I do a blend of Pilates and yoga every morning to keep in shape and stay flexible.”
“This early?” Brent scrubbed a hand over his face, squinting at the dim light coming in through the curtain. He didn’t know what time it was, but he was sure it was too fucking early. They were on vacation, damn it.
“Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?” Lowell folded his legs in, sat up, and spun to face Brent. He wrapped his arms around his knees and smiled. “I’ll try to be quieter. I’m definitely a morning person though, so you’ll have to get used to that.”
“Great,” Brent muttered, flopping onto his back. “Just fucking great.”
He rolled over and buried his face in a pillow, trying to block out the sight of Lowell exercising, but he couldn’t block out the sounds. He could hear Lowell’s breathing—rhythmic and reminding him of sex—then the rustle of clothing.
Brent flopped onto his other side again and cracked open one eye. Lowell stood facing him, bent in half so his palms touched the floor with his head between his calves and his ass in the air. Brent gulped, wondering if Lowell was flexible enough to suck his own cock.
“All done.” Lowell stood—his face red from being upside down—and offered Brent another bright smile. Brent scowled and squinted at the clock on the nightstand.
“What time is it anyway?”
“Six-thirty. I figure that’ll give me an hour to get ready, then we can grab breakfast downstairs, hop on the train, and be at the aquarium by nine when it opens. Sound good?”
Brent groaned and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “It takes you an hour to get ready?”
Lowell leaned over him. “Sweetie, I know it seems like I roll out of bed looking gorgeous, but it does take time and effort. Hair and makeup, remember?”
He disappeared from Brent’s field of vision, and Brent shook his head as he heard the bathroom door close. At most, it took Brent maybe fifteen minutes to shower and shave, and another five to brush his teeth and put a little product in his hair. He hadn’t packed much besides shorts, jeans, T-shirts, hoodies, and athletic shoes, so it wouldn’t take more than a minute or two to get dressed.
Ugh, this trip would have been so much easier with Nathan.
Of course, there were other perks of Lowell being here, and Brent didn’t just mean the nice hotel room.
Brent surreptitiously slid his hand into his boxer briefs and adjusted his cock, trying to convince himself it was totally morning wood that had his dick pushing at the fly of his underwear. Of course, it wasn’t that he’d gotten hard at the sight of Lowell’s lean, flat stomach and the thin short shorts that had done nothing to conceal a solid bulge.
Ugh, nope, that was a lie. Brent had noticed that Lowell was packing, and, damn it, he wanted to know how much.
If only he hadn’t acted like a naïve little kid when they went to Boystown last night. All they’d done was walk around and go to a sports bar, but Brent knew he’d been gawking like a tourist. Which he was, obviously, but he wished he’d been a little less obvious about it.
Nothing crazy had happened at the sports bar or anything. It was pretty low key, and they’d just sat around having a few drinks and talking. Brent had tried not to stare at the couples around them but it was so mind-boggling to him that there were guys just hanging out, flirting, talking, and buying each other drinks. He watched the sidelong glances and casual affection and felt the weirdest sense of being completely alien in a place where he should belong.
Except, other than liking dick, he wasn’t anything like the slinky, twinky guys like Lowell. Or the bigger, burlier bears he’d watched in porn.
He was just ... himself. The small-town, hockey-playing dude who had a degree in mechanical engineering and kinesiology and no clue where he fit. He didn’t belong in the place where he’d grown up. He didn’t belong with the jocks he’d gone to college with either. He was supposed to belong to this gay community, but he sure as hell didn’t feel like he did.
Lowell had called his reaction cute. Ugh. He was never going to live that down. It was just all so new and exciting, and he’d gotten caught up in the novelty of everything. Lowell had apparently been going there since high school. High school. Brent had barely been able to admit to himself that he was gay then, and he was seventeen before he ever kissed another guy.
With an aggravated sigh, he rolled back onto his stomach and tried to will his erection away.
The last thing he needed was to embarrass himself in front of Lowell.
Again.
***
“That was pretty cool,” Brent admitted as they left the dimly lit aquarium and came out into the bright sunlight. He unhooked his sunglasses from his T-shirt collar and slid them on. He’d never been to an aquarium before, but they’d spent hours there, wandering from tank to tank, only stopping to grab lunch before they saw the oceanarium show with Beluga whales and
dolphins. Lowell had gone on and on about the fact that the show was designed to benefit the animals, not just entertain the crowd, but Brent had mostly been in awe of finally encountering animals he’d only seen in pictures and videos. He’d done a lot of nodding and tuning Lowell out as he stared open-mouthed at the sea creatures gliding through the water in the massive tanks.
Lowell glanced up from rummaging in his leather bag. “Yeah, I enjoyed it. I’m glad you got the tickets.” He glanced up through his lashes and smiled sweetly. Brent paused to let Lowell search. He pulled out a case, then plucked a pair of sunglasses from it before settling them on his face. They were brown and black plastic with little metal pieces at the corners. Brent didn’t have to know much about fashion to know they were probably designer, and Lowell made them look good. Then again, he made everything look good. People had been eyeballing Lowell appreciatively all day. And, much as he hated to admit it, Brent had been one of them.
Lowell began to walk, and Brent fell into step beside him. “I especially liked the stingray touch exhibit. They didn’t have that the last time I was here.”
“I liked that too.” Brent shot him a smile in return. “I didn’t think the stingray would feel like that.” Their bodies had been slippery, firm but soft. Brent had a sudden flash of memory of him and Micah in the shower. He remembered stroking Micah’s cock, the skin slippery and wet. Brent felt an uncomfortable surge of arousal as his imagination swapped Lowell for Micah.
Ugh, this is going to be a long-ass trip if I can’t get my attraction to Lowell under control, he thought.
“They seemed to like being pet too,” Lowell said with a laugh. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”
The stingray had zoomed around a giant, shallow tank, coming up to the surface to meet the hands of the people leaning over the edge. Lowell had laughed when the first one touched him, and Brent had found himself laughing along with him. He hadn’t minded the way Lowell stood close to him, their shoulders pressed together. There had even been a moment where they’d turned to look at each other, and Brent had felt a sudden urge to press his lips against Lowell’s.
Lowell speaking brought him back to the present. “Yeah, I was surprised they seemed really into it too. I’m glad we got tickets to that.”
“Me too.” Lowell’s smile made Brent’s stomach flip, and he looked away, squinting out at the lake. They were silent for a few minutes as they followed the concrete path down to the lake.
“So, I was thinking we could take a water taxi up to Navy pier, check that out, and grab dinner somewhere before we head back to our hotel,” Lowell said when they reached the shore.
“Water taxi?” he turned back to face Lowell. “What the hell is that?”
Lowell gave him a smile. “It’s just a boat, sweets. It’s kind of a fun touristy thing, and it gives you great views of the city and the lake.” Brent opened his mouth to ask what it cost when Lowell spoke up. “It’s not expensive; I promise.”
They walked to the spot where the taxis docked and bought their tickets. The next boat was due in ten minutes, and they stood by the railing overlooking the lake while they waited. The sun was blinding as it glinted off the water and beat down on them, making Brent sweat under his cotton T-shirt. The wind ruffled his hair, and the sunshine sank into his bones, taking away some of the tension from the past few days.
Lowell was quiet, and Brent just soaked up the atmosphere while they waited. The breeze kept the day from being too hot, and a few gulls wheeled through the sky and strutted along the concrete path that ran along the shore. There were families out with kids, tourists gawking and taking pictures with their cameras and phones, and joggers dodging them all as they ran along the lake.
Lowell nudged his elbow. “Boat’s here.”
It was long, fairly narrow, and built more like the small ferries Brent was familiar with from trips across Lake Michigan to Wisconsin, although there wasn’t room for cars.
Brent followed Lowell aboard. There was a covered section, but since it was so nice out, they decided to stay at the railing near the front. He stared at the city, tall skyscrapers and green trees mingling with the lake at its feet. He liked it.
The heavy rumble of the engines startled him, and he looked around to see that the boat was nearly three-quarters full as they pulled away from the shore. The wind picked up and tangled his hair as they headed further out. Brent tilted his head back to enjoy the sun.
Lowell nudged his shoulder. “You don’t want to miss the skyline.”
Brent opened his eyes and saw that the boat had made a U-turn, and they were heading in a wide arc aimed at the long jutting piece of land that he assumed was Navy Pier. “Thanks,” he said. “I’m glad we did this.” Less than ten bucks for this view of the skyline from the water was totally worth it. He snapped a few pictures with his phone to remember it.
Lowell’s smile was sweet, but he didn’t say anything in response.
Brent looked back at the city, trying to get his bearings. “Is that the park our hotel is near?”
“Nope.” Lowell pointed at the park that stretched along the waterfront. “That’s Grant Park. We’re heading north to Navy Pier. North of that is Lincoln Park, which is near where we’re staying.”
“This place confuses me,” Brent muttered, staring at the high rises they were slowly passing. Last night and today they’d taken the bus and the train. Brent felt like a small-town hick in comparison to Lowell’s confident navigation of public transportation, but he followed Lowell’s every move and tried to hide his discomfort. Other than the buses on Western’s campus, he’d never used anything like it before. Chicago felt utterly overwhelming. Cool, but overwhelming.
“It takes a while. Remember, I grew up here.” Lowell stood close enough that Brent felt him shrug. The feel of their bare arms pressed together made his blood heat and his skin prickle.
Brent straightened, running a hand through his hair. Ugh, Chicago isn’t the only confusing thing, he thought.
To his relief, the boat was nearly at Navy Pier, and he pretended to watch it dock with a lot more interest than he actually felt.
Thankfully, the sexual tension disappeared as they got off the boat, and Lowell strode over to a large map. “So, there’s a ton to do here. Shopping and restaurants, of course. A children’s museum and Shakespearean theater—both of which I assume you want to skip—an IMAX theater, a beer garden, the Centennial wheel—we should totally do that when it gets dark—and a ton of other stuff.”
“Can we just wander?” Brent asked. “I want to get a feel for what’s here, you know?”
“Of course.”
Navy Pier was nothing like he’d expected. The long, narrow slab of concrete jutting into the water was massive. There was a wide boardwalk that wrapped around the building in the center in a U-shape. The building echoed the shape of the pier, running the length of it. The inside areas held shops and restaurants and steps led up to a big open space on top of it. The top had food carts, an eating area, a carousel, swings, and the massive Ferris wheel Lowell had mentioned.
They walked the outside of the pier for a while, and Brent stopped to take some photos with his camera. They wandered the shops inside, browsing, but not buying anything. When they reached the food court area, Brent paused in front of a place selling hot dogs. “I think I’m going to grab a Chicago dog,” Brent said. “You want one?”
Lowell shook his head. “I don’t eat much meat, sweetie.” He winked. “At least, not like that.”
Brent looked away, torn between rolling his eyes and asking Lowell if he’d take his meat. “You’re from Chicago, and you don’t like the hot dogs here?”
“Um, no. I eat mostly vegetarian. I do eat a little chicken and fish, but I don’t eat pork or beef. Besides, the toppings on the hot dogs are bizarre.” Lowell wrinkled his nose.
“Oh come on, what’s not to like about a hot dog on a poppy seed bun with yellow mustard, onions, pickle relish, a pickle spear, tomatoes, and pickled
peppers?” Brent asked teasingly. He had to admit, it was a weird combination of things, but they tasted amazing. He’d had one at a Blackhawks game once and hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. There was a place in Kalamazoo that served them, but they weren’t nearly as good.
“I think there’s celery salt in there somewhere too,” Lowell said. “But just because I like most of those ingredients separately doesn’t mean I feel the need to taste all of them at once. A boy has to have some standards about what goes in his mouth.”
Brent chuckled. “Yeah, whatever. I’m going to grab one. You sure you don’t want anything? I could get you a plain veggie dog or something.”
Lowell flashed him a smile. “Thanks. You’re sweet. I’m not hungry, but some water would be nice.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll meet you outside.” Lowell nodded to a door that led back out to the boardwalk area.
“Sounds good.”
Brent got in line and checked his phone while he waited for his turn. He frowned at how silent it had been. He was used to random text messages and Facebook notifications from Nathan with jokes or links to random stupid shit. Not surprising, since he had called his best friend a ton of names. He hadn’t quite forgiven Nathan for the way he’d ditched him and dumped Lowell in his lap. Brent had taken a few pictures throughout the day, and he decided to upload them to Facebook with the status: Having a blast in Chicago. A little part of him wanted to rub it in Nathan’s face that he was having fun without him.
Once he’d paid and grabbed his hot dog and water for both of them, he met Lowell outside. He was on his phone too.
“Bragging about the fact that you’re on a trip with me?” Brent asked as he approached. Lowell glanced up, but his expression was unreadable behind his sunglasses. “Here’s your water, by the way.”
Push & Pull (The Midwest Series Book 2) Page 5