by Jerry Cole
The inside wasn’t much better. Mold grew in the cracks, paint peeled on every surface, and the furniture looked like something one would find on the side of the road... or in the remains of a recently burned down house. The place was a dump and Sherman couldn’t imagine anyone, ever, staying here of their own free will.
As it stood, the lobby was near empty, save for the clerk behind the desk. Sherman spotted him and was about to make a beeline when he noticed that the clerk was currently serving someone else. When Sherman saw who it was, he almost fell over.
“That much?” Bradley gaped. “How can it be – look at this place! You should be paying me to stay here.”
“That is not our policy, sir,” the clerk responded coolly. He looked bored, as if he didn’t give a shit about Bradley or his problems. Truly, he was the exact kind of guy Sherman was looking for... not that Sherman cared anymore.
“What if...” Bradley hesitated. “What if I pay half now and half when I check —”
“That is not our policy... sir,” the clerk spoke again. He hesitated before dropping the ‘sir’ too, as if considering whether or not it would make a difference. “All payments for rooms are to be made in advance.”
“Policies are made to be broken though — what if...” Bradley thought for a moment. “What if I was like to, I don’t know, clean the rooms for you? You know, earn my keep? I’ve seen people do that.”
The clerk could not have looked less sympathetic to Bradley’s plight; if Bradley were a fly, the clerk would have long ago swatted him. “Again, that is not our policy. Payment up front. And if you can’t do that, then I am afraid that our business here is done.” He looked over Bradley’s shoulder and at Sherman, indicating for him to step forward.
Sherman did no such thing. Seeing Bradley right here and now, so randomly and unexpectedly had him frozen in a sort of stasis; like he’d been hit by a stun gun and was waiting for the effects to wear off so he could move again! It also appeared to have affected his mind somehow, and his breathing, as all Sherman could really do was stare and blink and stare some more.
What was Bradley doing here? Sherman sure as heck didn’t know. Bradley had mentioned that he was going to Lisbon, but he had suggested it was going to be earlier in his trip. Never ever, not in a million years, not once, did Sherman even consider...
He’d thought of Bradley a lot since Amsterdam. Truly, even saying he’d thought of him ‘a lot’ seemed to undersell just how many times the handsome Australian had come to mind. Almost every night he seemed to be in the fore of Sherman’s memory, and every morning too. When he ate, he found himself wishing that Bradley was there, when he went on walks, when he showered, when he got ready for bed. Basically, in every action he committed, he would find himself wondering how much better it would have been had his vacation-fling been by his side.
Bradley was actually the main reason that Sherman had disliked the rest of his trip through Europe too. Before he had met the studly Australian, he was sure that he would have been only too happy to have spent the month going to museums and engaging in long, boring conversations with even more boring souls. But after Bradley... well, he realized why people travelled overseas in the first place.
And just to be sure, Sherman wasn’t in love with Bradley or anything like that. That’s just silly. But he certainly still lusted after him. To suggest otherwise would be akin to trying to claim you didn’t know the sun set every night, a lie of the highest order.
“Well... do you know anywhere that might rent a room for that price?” Bradley pleaded with the clerk. “Anywhere at all?”
The clerk curled his lip and looked about the lobby as if to say ‘Really?’ Anywhere cheaper than this hotel surely would have been knocked down years ago.
“Excuse me.” The shock of seeing Bradley had worn off, and he figured it was time to announce himself. But he spoke in a deeper voice, even grumbling a little as if to sound angry. “Some of us are in a rush.”
“One minute,” Bradley spoke over his shoulder. “I just need to —”
“I said hurry it along!”
“Look!” Bradley spun around to confront Sherman, saw who it was and a smile so wide broke out on his face that Sherman worried it might literally split in half. “Sherman!” he yelped. “What — what are you – how did you – hey!” Then, without warning, Bradley stumbled forward and pulled Sherman into a tight hug.
Fuck. Sherman could have remained in that grasp for the rest of his days. Bradley smelled awful, like stale body odor and booze. He was sweaty too, drenching Sherman’s clothes. And yet it might have been the most satisfying hug of his life.
“It’s good to see you too,” Sherman chuckled as Bradley let him go, although even that felt a little reluctant. “Better if you’d showered in the last week,” he then quipped.
Bradley flushed red, but only for a second. As if suddenly realizing where he was, he gave his head a shake, puffed out his chest and rolled his eyes. “Actors,” he sighed. “You never know what you’re going to get.”
Sherman frowned. “What do you —”
“This is for a role,” Bradley then hurried. “My agent called me last week – a lost traveler, trying to make ends meet, kind of thing. He knew I was overseas so he figured it was perfect for me to get into character.” His laugh was awkward and forced.
“Ohhhh.” Sherman nodded his understanding, or at least what he thought he was supposed to be understanding. “So... you’re not really staying —”
“Here?” Bradley’s laugh was so over the top it had to be fake. “God no – look at this place!” He ran his finger along the counter and curled his nose. “I’d rather sleep in a pile of dog poo.”
“That can be arranged,” the clerk muttered from behind the counter.
“Thank God,” Sherman sighed with relief. “For a minute... I don’t know what I thought, honestly. Maybe that you were going rustic for your last few days in Europe.”
“I think not,” Bradley smirked, looking more confident now. “There’s rustic and then there’s tragic. And this is worse than both.”
Something wasn’t quite right. Sherman knew Bradley to be an actor, so what he was saying made enough sense... but it also didn’t. Having listened to him beg for that room, pleaded even, Sherman had to conclude that Bradley was either one of the greatest actors of all time, or he wasn’t giving him the whole story.
Yet at the same time, Sherman didn’t care. He couldn’t believe his luck in bumping into Bradley and didn’t want to do anything that might throw him.
“What are you doing here though?” Bradley quickly pivoted. “Don’t tell me your tour group is staying in this dive? — I’ll lend you the money for a better place if I have to.”
Sherman’s eyes widened as he suddenly remembered the reason that he had come into this hotel specifically. He thought quickly, “Just getting out of the heat,” he explained. “I was ready to melt out there.”
Sherman smiled for Bradley, and he smiled back. The two men were clearly lying to each other to some degree, but neither seemed willing to push the fact. As such, they very quickly got about leaving that crappy little hotel, only too happy to act as if they had never stepped foot inside in the first place.
Once outside and in Lisbon proper, the two men fell back into their old routine like not even a day had passed between them. Even the fact that they’d had mind blowing sex before parting ways didn’t stunt their conversational flow or introduce any amount of awkwardness between them. Walking down the street with Bradley by his side felt to Sherman like the most natural thing in the world.
“So where are you staying?” Bradley asked. They were about three blocks from Sherman’s hotel, headed that way by coincidence.
“Nearby actually – what about you?” Sherman hesitated. He wanted to ask... but he didn’t know if he should. Instead, he started with, “Want me to help you find another dive to crash in? For the role, I mean.”
Bradley laughed nervously and rubbed at
his arm. “Na... like, I can do that later. It’s not a big deal. I might find somewhere nicer and just tell my agent I didn’t.” Something was certainly wrong, and Sherman was pretty sure he knew what it was.
Bradley Miles might have been an actor, but if he was, there was no way he was as big as he made himself out to be. After the two had parted ways all those weeks ago, he had done a little research on the famed actor and found... nothing. He didn’t even have an IMDB page! Sherman had been willing to assume this meant that Bradley had given him a fake name, or he had a different alias that he acted under. But now, seeing him here and the state he was in, Sherman was willing to bet that Bradley wasn’t what he claimed.
But Sherman also didn’t care. Not even a little bit. He had been lying too, having told Bradley he was a standard travel agent here on vacation. Plus, and this was a big one, if Bradley was lying, and he had nowhere to stay, then maybe he could convince Bradley to stay with him.
“Say...” Sherman started slowly, carefully. “Want to see where I’m staying – not for that,” he hurried when he realized how it must have sounded. The side-eye that Bradley gave him confirmed this.
“And why would I want to see that?” Bradley smirked.
“Oh... I’ll tell you when we’re there.”
The real beauty of the Valverde Hotel was that from the outside, it looked rather inconspicuous. Oh sure, it was clearly a nice enough hotel and everything, but it wasn’t until one was inside that they were able to truly appreciate the beauty, splendor and downright exorbitance of the five-star luxury hotel. It was because of all this that it wasn’t until the two men were actually in Sherman’s suite that Bradley realized just how fucking nice the place was.
“Holy shit...” his mouth hung agape as he took the room in. “You’re staying... how are you staying here?”
“They take money, just like everywhere else,” Sherman joked. “Only, a lot more of it.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Bradley said flatly. “How are you staying – this place is ridiculous!”
Bradley was right to be so taken aback. A single bedroom affair, the suite was large enough to house a family of five; with a bed big enough to fit everyone comfortably. The walls were made entirely blue and purple mosaic, plush velvet cushions and rugs seemed to cover every inch of floor and wall, green vines wrapped themselves around colonnades and gave the room a sense of life, and most importantly, and by far the room’s biggest draw, was the wading pool in its center. There was no roof above this pool either, bathing it in natural sunlight. The room truly was something else.
“I have a confession to make...”
Bradley was down by the pool now. Bright sun shone from overhead and he leaned forward and ran his hand through the crystal blue water, then splashed some on his face. “Yeah? You’re actually a prince or something, right?” he joked.
“Not exactly... although I may have been lying just a tad about what I do for a living.”
Bradley stood up and turned back to face Sherman. “Why? What do you do...?” He narrowed his eyes accusingly.
Sherman rolled his and quickly explained who he was and what he was doing here. “... hence the room,” he finished.
To his relief, Bradley didn’t care one whit that he’d been lied to. In fact, he seemed relieved, almost happy that Sherman was more than just a travel agent.
“So, any chance you can rent me a room next to this one?” Bradley joked right away.
“I think I can do one better than that.” Sherman had wanted desperately to ask Bradley to stay with him, but he’d also worried it was too fast, and too presumptuous. But now... fuck it, he was on vacation. “How about you crash with me while you’re here?”
As if expecting it, Bradley offered a wry smile. “Are you sure I won’t be in the way?”
“Oh... I think I can manage... just,” he finished with a wink.
Of course, Bradley said yes and once he did, he didn’t hesitate in making himself right at home. He was quick to unpack his bags, take a shower and order room service like he was the one footing the bill. But Sherman didn’t mind, truly. He was just stoked that he’d be spending the next few days sharing the room, and the bed, with this hunk.
When the food arrived and Bradley was clean, the two men sat on the edge of the bed and nibbled at an assortment of breads and dips. Sherman felt like a Persian prince with one of his concubines. “So, what do you want to do now?”
Bradley had a piece of bread halfway to his mouth when he paused. A cheeky smirk then crossed his lips and his eyes flicked to the bed before working their way up Sherman. “Oh... how about you?”
Sherman laughed. Bradley laughed. And then, with nothing left to it, they moved the food to the floor, stripped themselves naked and got about catching up on the previous month the only way they knew how.
Even better that not once since Sherman had spotted Bradley in that hotel had he even thought about drugs, the need to buy them or use them. Bradley was the only drug he’d be needing and he intended to inject himself as much as possible while he could. Hey, he was on vacation after all.
Chapter Seven
The bright morning sun woke Bradley long before he would have liked; it crept in through the window and shone across his face, forcing his eyes instantly open. Every morning for the past three days this had happened, and every morning it annoyed him that the window to the room had no curtain, and that it was positioned so the sun shone directly in his eyes regardless of where he lay. Ordinarily, this ‘natural’ alarm would have been enough to see him release an annoyed groan, a disheartened grunt and even a sharp curse. Today it was the least of his problems.
He’d gotten close to no sleep the previous night. It was even worse than the first night too, which Bradley would have thought was impossible, considering how little he’d gotten on that particular eve. But at least that time, the reason for his lack of sleep was more tangible. A combination of waking up for sex every other hour, combined with the seasickness he’d been feeling from the constant rocking of the yacht was annoying, but something he had since been able to overcome.
Last night though... his mind had been racing – honestly, now that he was awake again, it had started back up — and it was going to keep doing so until he took care of the ‘problem’ at hand. But fuck, to do that he was going to need a serious dose of courage.
In an effort to distract himself, Bradley rolled over, expecting to see the naked body of Sherman lying next to him. Sherman’s body wasn’t anything to write home about; he was short, a little too skinny and pasty beyond belief, yet for reasons that Bradley couldn’t comprehend, it still drove him wild. A shame then that Sherman was nowhere to be seen.
“Shit...” Bradley muttered. His cock had hardened when he thought he’d be getting a little bit of morning delight. Now that his bed was empty, it looked like that wasn’t going to be the case. “Sherman!” Bradley shouted. “Where are you!”
He waited for a response, sure that Sherman would call from the bathroom or the deck. But... nothing.
“Oi!” Bradley sat up and looked around the room, as if expecting to see Sherman hiding. It was a tiny cabin, with literally just a double bed, a bedside table and not much else. “Sherman! Where are —”
“Outside!” Sherman’s voice drifted from beyond the door. “Hurry up! I have something for you!”
It should have excited Bradley to hear. The last time that Sherman had a surprise for him, it had turned into a three day get-away on a private yacht. By then, Lisbon had been starting to get old and the two men had needed an escape. Sherman, in all his wisdom, had come up with the perfect solution. Bradley would have been happy with a new room. Sherman wanted a new experience.
Bradley was completely nude. He slipped on a pair of bright pink speedos – the only attire he’d bothered with over the past three days – and slowly made his way outside to Sherman. That thing that had been bothering him, that had kept him up all night long, was settling in his stomach now an
d making him feel ill. Bradley was going to have no choice but to bring it up, hope that Sherman didn’t care as much as he should have, and then deal with the fallout... whatever that might be.
Fuck, he just hoped that Sherman wasn’t too upset with him.
“There he is.” Sherman wore a pair of white linen shorts and nothing more. The look suited him, as he was currently laying back in a deck chair, typing away on his laptop while basking in the morning sun. He didn’t have a tan and probably never would, but he was still glowing. “I was worried you’d sleep all morning – miss half our last day.”
Bradley rolled his eyes as he approached Sherman, leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “It’s not even nine yet – before this yacht, I didn’t even know there was a nine in the morning.”
“You’re welcome then.”
“For that, or the yacht?”
Sherman thought for a moment, the smirked to himself. “The yacht... and how hard I made you cum last night too.”
“Oh, well, if that’s what you meant...” Bradley took a seat opposite Sherman. Now that he was up, he had to admit he was enjoying the morning sun. It was winter back home, so it would be nice to have a tan when he returned in two days' time. “... I suppose that wasn’t bad either.”
It was just then that the resident chef popped his head up on the deck. He didn’t speak a word of English, but he provided Sherman and Bradley with three square meals a day, plenty of snacks and all the booze and cocktails they could drink. At the moment, he carried freshly made coffee which he proceeded to pour for the two lovers as they began their final day together.
What a week it had been. If Bradley had tried to describe it, he wouldn’t have been able to find the words; and any attempt to do so would have undersold just how unbelievable the experience had actually been. All he could say, and this was in no way an exaggeration, that it was the best week of his life so far, bar none.