Pent Up

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Pent Up Page 23

by Damon Suede


  Two other guys drifted over, and another lady, until Andy was the jelly in a douchebag donut.

  Little by little, Andy came to life in front of the whole mob, joking and charming them with his punch-me smile. Demolition by dimple. A killer in his element.

  Ruben’s phone buzzed in his pocket, but he purposefully did not answer. He saw that Peach had left a message, wondering why she hadn’t heard from him in so long. He felt guilty, but not guilty enough to call back just this second. How would he explain what had happened without it sounding crazy and dangerous?

  Ruben snagged a seltzer—“With lime, please.”—and nursed it slowly. Andy got tugged toward a group on the sofa. Playing the part of colleague still, Ruben didn’t stand with the other bodyguards, but he aped them. Meter’s running: the goons kept an eye on their various principals and checked out the more beddable broads that drifted by.

  Bored and ignored, Ruben did the same. Resting his eyes on the one or two women who didn’t seem as antiseptic. A tedious half hour later, a creaky old geezer drifted by with a real bombshell on his arm. He musta been a fratboy in the 1930s. He leaned over to say something to his… wife? Mistress? A juicy woman with a meaty ass, dark hair, who sounded like she grew up listening to Yankees in art galleries. She probably could stand to lose about twenty, but she wore it well. Ruben wasn’t attracted, but he checked her out of habit.

  She checked him back.

  And just as he looked away, Ruben caught Andy’s eye. Was Andy jealous? The idea seemed bizarre.

  Andy ambled toward him, trying to seem aimless but obviously intent. He’d had another drink or two, and his eyes were soft with Scotch. Reaching Ruben, he nodded hello. Ruben nodded back. Soldiers on the field.

  Do I reassure him? Do I need to? Ruben consciously refused to look back at the bombshell. What was Andy doing over here when he should be working the room?

  Andy swallowed. “You good?”

  “Sure. You?”

  “These stiffs. I dunno. Charity boards. Half these people can’t even keep track of the disease they’re fundraising against.” He drained his glass. “I shouldn’t care.”

  “But you do.” Ruben glanced at the room again. What are you doing over here?

  “Mmph.” Andy looked back at the juicy woman. “Y’know, we could share a chick. If you wanted.” Andy looked at the table, not at him.

  “What?” Where had that come from?

  “You might. Want to.” First indication that Andy didn’t have any idea what he wanted.

  Ruben didn’t look away, conscious that they were doing this in a crowded, hostile room. Had he been unclear? He scrunched up his scary face, superconscious of the roomful of stodges. “Why?”

  “To cut loose together.” Andy’s bright eyes searched his. A dimpled grin, but the nerves simmered just under the surface. “I know this all looks like bullshit to you. We could go back to Jaded once we’re done here. Or Marquee. Lemme take you out. Wanna? I mean, would you dig that?”

  Would he? Sure, Ruben still checked out attractive women, but this thing with Andy didn’t feel like anything he’d ever done in bed with anyone.

  “Ruben?”

  Nightclubs and strippers. Andy didn’t actually, truly, seriously want to go do any of those things with Ruben, but he could offer them and they sounded like the options he gave to clients. Tread carefully.

  “Hey.” Ruben whispered forcefully. “Hey! Bauer, I am not looking for the exit here.”

  “No—”

  Lowering his voice again, Ruben said, “Or whatever you think. I’m not like a lion in a zoo. You don’t gotta throw live meat at me to keep me from jumping the fence. I’m here ’cause I wanna be. You better be here ’cause you wanna be. That’s the deal.”

  “Okay. Sorry.”

  “Andy?” Ruben stood closer than he should have, but the hallway was dark and this mattered more. He glanced at the juicy chick for confirmation and back. “Are you jealous?”

  “Yeah.” The hushed word slipped out. “Stupid.”

  Ruben whispered, “C’mere, boss.” He did a perimeter check; no one was paying any attention.

  But instead of following, Andy let Ruben steer him from behind down the hall and past the kitchens to a small powder room. “What are we doing?”

  Without answering, Ruben opened the door for him and pushed him into the dim room. He followed and closed the door without turning on the light. A green night-light above the sink made more shadows than anything. “Mr. Bauer, you have something on your jacket.”

  “Wha—?”

  “Me.” Pressing close, Ruben kissed him and pushed his tongue inside the surprised mouth. He ignored the tang of secondhand whiskey.

  Andy backed into the tiled wall and grunted. His square face looked open, exposed, blind with some raw hunger he couldn’t control.

  Addiction. Subtraction.

  After another moment, Ruben pulled back. “We clear?”

  Andy nodded. “I love that.” His lips were wet and his bowtie crooked.

  Ruben straightened it and stroked his chest through the pleated shirt.

  “You’re a gentleman, but you’re not gentle.” Andy gave him a soft peck on the corner of his mouth.

  Thank God for adrenaline. Enabling rash impulses since the dawn of opposable thumbs. Historically, the exact same caveman routine had gotten Ruben in plenty of trouble, but this was a unique situation. “I’m not interested in anyone or anything else. Dig?”

  “Yes, sir.” Andy squeezed his half-hard junk, milking it lightly through the pants and breathing hard. “I sure do.”

  Ruben hesitated. He’d only wanted to reassure Andy, not fuck in a frathouse bathroom.

  Party sounds outside the door. The danger of getting caught, the fact that his boss, a man, was kneading his dick, gave him a freaky charge. His heart stuttered between them, and he tried to control the slow panting with tactical breathing as if he was in danger.

  He was in danger.

  Andy unzipped Ruben’s pants and fumbled his big hand inside.

  Ruben muttered, “No. Easy. Hey. Hsssst.”

  Now? Here?

  Andy gripped his cock and tugged, once, twice, and then an easy, lazy jerk that stood his hair on end.

  Ruben batted his hands away and closed his trousers. “Stop. Now. Stop that, man. I’m gonna go back out there. You gimme ten seconds before you come out to schmooze. We’ll finish this later.” Stepping back he adjusted his arced bulge so that it lay at a less conspicuous angle. “Jesus.”

  “Amen.” Andy snickered behind him as the door closed.

  Ruben gave himself thirty heartbeats of measured inhale-exhale before he ventured back into combat. He stayed at a fifteen-foot perimeter, just close enough to monitor Andy’s safety. His job. Giving the bar and any single ladies a wide berth, he stuck to the walls with the other goons and watched Andy glad-hand the whole room, passing out compliments and business cards in all directions.

  Horny and off-kilter, Ruben tried to put the pieces together in his head.

  Andy wanted to get caught, loved being watched. Shocking the prudes felt perfect because he felt like an impostor. Clan of the Cave Bear. What had he said? Caveman with an AmEx.

  Ruben was thrilled to stay a dirty secret because he wasn’t in any hurry to explain shit to his brother, but still a niggling doubt chewed at him. Dirty secrets got scrubbed away.

  He shook his head at no one, feeling stupid and smart both. Andy’s games put them in all kinds of danger, and somehow Ruben’s emotions had made him an accomplice, roped him into riding shotgun next to a self-confessed sociopath with an exhibitionistic streak.

  Without thinking his eyes met Andy’s directly, scorching the air.

  Andy crooked a lazy grin at him. Fellow conspirators. The batshit part of Ruben liked having a shared secret at this party full of stiffs who stood around comparing labels and pedigrees. Squillions of dollars and no sense.

  “Marlon. Stanz.” held court near Ruben, telling a lo
ng, gossipy anecdote about his daughter’s boarding school and Andy’s mother that made the listeners nod and scan the room for an escape hatch. He certainly didn’t mind pissing people off, this Marlon person who groped everyone like a pimp.

  Around quarter to ten, Ruben got stuck behind two women arguing about whether daffodils have a scent and something called deadheading. He avoided their eyes and tried to sneak back to Andy’s perimeter.

  Every so often assholes would actually flirt back at Andy, try to sidle up to him to fuck or fleece him, but Ruben realized he didn’t care and had no fear. Nothing would get through him. He wasn’t jealous, even, or nervous. Nobody was gonna replace him. Whoever tried could never need Andy the same way, never protect him, never reach him the way Ruben did and always would.

  Bad. This is bad, man.

  Sure enough, at 9:59, Andy appeared beside him and hooked an arm over his shoulders. Bros. “Let’s blow, man.” He said the words right into Ruben’s ear, lips brushing.

  Ruben swallowed, nodded, and hooked it before his boner could make an appearance. He led the way out the door and down the stairs clearing a path with his bull’s-eye scowl. It was raining outside.

  Andy kept mum at least and followed close behind, until he actually put his hands on Ruben’s shoulder and trailed him like a tipsy horse-drawn carriage all the way back to the car and the curb.

  Ruben’s boner crested into an obscene mound right as they hit the street. “Let’s go, boss.”

  Gross people, shit party, but if nothing else, all that oblivious attention inside his fraternity had pushed Andy to his absolute limit. He couldn’t get at Ruben fast enough, and the frantic lust knew no boundaries.

  Their car pulled up, and Andy pressed against him from behind, breath on his nape, and reached around to open the door. Help. His erection notched into the hollow of Ruben’s flexed buttock. Right in the street, under the lamps.

  A cough: Marlon Stanz on the steps like a sentry, watching them leave with dead alligator eyes. He gave a little jerky salute that Ruben ignored until Marlon turned to go back inside. What had he seen?

  As the door swung open, Ruben decided to forget to grid check the Daimler before they left. Gossip worried him, and Stanz catching them, but Andy was right; there was no danger anymore. At least, not from outside.

  Lazy? Stupid? Sure. But fucking impossible when he was about to dump his sauce in a three-thousand-dollar tux in front of a fancy frathouse.

  Inside the town car, Andy put up the partition immediately. His erection filled a fold at the crotch of his tux.

  “Wait a sec. Huh? Andy, one second.”

  He grabbed Ruben’s cock and kneaded it.

  “Agh. Easy, man.” His cockhead bulged sticky inside his briefs. He could feel the slick crackle as his foreskin slid back. “What if someone saw us?”

  “I don’t care. Let me have it.” Andy had never come at him so directly.

  “Jesus.” He glanced front at the privacy partition.

  Andy pulled at his shirt.

  “Easy.”

  Studs popped and scattered across the car’s upholstery.

  Irritated and horny, Ruben pulled their chests together, scrubbing his skin against Andy’s clothes. Nothing else matters.

  Andy slid to the floor of the limo. His exhibitionistic streak continued, but at least this wouldn’t get them arrested. Pray God the chauffeur wasn’t eavesdropping on the intercom.

  “C’mon.”

  Eyes on Ruben’s, Andy fumbled at the belt and unbuckled it. He pressed his lips against Ruben and unzipped the fly. He pushed his hand inside, putting sharp pressure on Ruben’s confined balls.

  “Ow. Hey.” Ruben pulled back.

  “Sorry. Sorry.” Andy kissed his navel lightly and ran a finger under the elastic at Ruben’s waist. “So fuckin’ thick.” His thumb scraped across Ruben’s juicy crown. “So fuckin’ wet.” His fingertip dragged through stickiness.

  Ruben gripped himself and squeezed to expose the head completely. The musky scent of crotch and precum filled the backseat. Honey dribbled over his spread fly.

  Andy grunted. “Don’t waste it. Don’t jerk it.”

  If you insist. Ruben cocked his head. “I got any say in this?”

  “No.” Andy grinned. “This is strictly between me and your cock.” He dropped his clean-cut face into Ruben’s lap, pressing his face against Ruben’s upper thigh. He angled the boner toward him and kissed the wet end. “Sweet.”

  A fluttery pride settled over Ruben’s ribcage. He’d never been wanted like this, even with chicks. He’d never felt this kind of danger and chemistry. “You’re crazy,” he whispered with tenderness.

  “I know.” Andy licked the precum. “Nuts.” Licked those too.

  He took a handful of Andy’s thick hair and shook his skull.

  Andy closed his eyes and took a deep breath at Ruben’s skin. “You did something to me.”

  “Andy.” They were pulling up to the Iris, and Ruben’s pants were down. “Stop. Andy!” He raised his ass to pull up his pants and buckle them shut.

  Andy blinked and squinted, swaying on his knees. “Sorry.”

  “No. I’m sorry. We just don’t want anyone—”

  And then the door opened. The young driver held the door while they clambered out into harder rain.

  Andy draped an arm over Ruben’s shoulders. He saluted the underwear-model doormen but didn’t pause. “Boys.” The smile skittered over his dimple like a dare.

  Ruben didn’t bother to close his shirt, but held the jacket closed all the way to the elevator. “You’re nuts,” he whispered out of the side of his mouth.

  “Your nuts.” And Andy took hold of them, before the elevator had even closed.

  Ruben jabbed at the PH button and braced himself in the corner. “Cameras.”

  “I don’t care.” Andy pressed against him, rubbing his face under Ruben’s jaw and grinding their boners together. “I wish we coulda fucked in the middle of Saint Anthony’s. In front of all the stale pale males.” He grinned.

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Hunnerd percent. Hell, they wish they could even see how you look right now.” He licked Ruben’s stiff nipple and sucked it hard. “Spoiled.”

  “If I am, it’s your fault.”

  The door opened right as Andy shook his head no or yes. “You do something t’me.” He stepped into the penthouse and headed outside without pause, right into the storm. “Rain’s done.”

  “No, it’s not!” Ruben called after him. “Stop. You’re soaked.”

  Staccato rain on the terrace, the sheets of water pelting the tiles hot as fresh blood. Night or not, the sky had gone dim gray as if the clouds wouldn’t let go of the lightning.

  Andy went and he followed. The drops fell so hard they bounced off their shoulders and soaked the jackets.

  Andy mouthed his throat, sending small spikes of ticklish electricity through Ruben. He lipped Ruben’s ear, breathing hard and wet with the rain.

  “You hungry, boss?” Ruben ran a dark hand over Andy’s head and then tipped the panting face up so he could see.

  “Not your boss.” Another kiss. Andy’s mouth tasted sweet and pulpy as a split mango.

  “You tell me what to do.”

  Andy’s reply was hoarse. “Yeah. But you don’t listen.”

  “Mmph.” Ruben wheezed a laugh as he fumbled with buttons. “Only when you’re being stupid.”

  Slow rain pelted and crept between their pressed bodies. Ruben sighed and his eyes drifted shut.

  The summer storm churned in the sky around them. Humidity made it even harder to breathe and the air glittered. The rain made silvery halos around the street lamps.

  Ruben exhaled, dizzy and impatient. “Rain’s making me sweat.”

  “I know. Feels great.” Andy dropped his head forward and let the wetness run from his floppy hair onto Ruben’s legs.

  Ruben ran a rough hand over the wet jacket and wide shoulders.

  Andy
rocked his head to one side so he could look up. “You have a fatty.” He squeezed it, but let his hand drop. “Fucking crowbar.”

  Their faces slid together, and it took Ruben a moment to realize that, rather than relenting, the downpour had broken loose in earnest. “Clothes.”

  Andy shook his head lazily. His hands cupped the side of Ruben’s face and brushed their mouths together. “If you’re worried, take ’em off. About them, I do not care.” He ran a slick arm behind his back and squeezed their tuxedoed torsos together. Pulling the collar back, he bit and sucked at Ruben’s shoulder. “S’just money.”

  Ruben yanked the shirttails out of his pants and tugged at the belt buckle.

  A low grind of thunder cracked the sky. Bowling in heaven. If there was lightning in answer he didn’t see it. Instead, the glowing clouds seemed to devour the city’s light and noise, leaving the terrace dark and muffled. They had to find each other by feel.

  Blind.

  “Jesus.” Ruben’s breath labored in his chest. Finally, finally. What did clothes or water matter?

  Coming together like this outdoors felt natural, inevitable. Not two men but starving animals in the hot scarves of water falling from the sky.

  Andy panted. “I don’t care. I don’t care.” Water ran from his open lips and dripped from his chin. His tiny nipples showed through the transparent undershirt. “I don’t care.”

  Ruben swallowed hard. Andy’s frank hunger made him feel invincible. The rain began to pelt them, and Ruben didn’t budge. Clumsy hands as he popped the buttons to get the shirt open. Everything soaking wet and translucent. He unzipped the dripping trousers that clung to his legs.

  The clouds swelled with hidden lightning but it refused to strike.

  “I don’t care. I don’t care.” Andy whispered and rubbed his face against Ruben’s chest and throat. He peeled Ruben’s sopping shirt back. The wet cling felt as though Andy were skinning him to get at the pleasure hidden inside. “I don’t care.”

  Liar.

  Ruben stopped struggling and clasped Andy’s head roughly. He tipped it for a better angle to suck at the glossy lower lip. “I’m right here. Huh?”

  “You are. Thank God.”

  Ruben blinked the water out of his eyes, panting and squirming under the assault on his nerves. His nipples were hard. His clothes made slurping noises as his movements pulled them away from his flesh. He shrugged out of the jacket finally and let it fall to the ground.

 

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