Giving Chase

by Hill, Jamie

  "Hey, Marty!" Someone called, and patted his shoulder as he passed.

  "Oh hi, Eric." He recognized a few faces from Saturday night. "Where's Chase?"

  "Bathroom." He tapped the side of his nose and smiled.

  Martin frowned and headed that direction. He met Chase coming out. "What's going on?"

  "Hey, babe! How was work? It got lonely here, so I invited a couple of the guys over."

  "A couple?" He glanced around. "Seems like a dozen, or so."

  "Yeah, that happens sometimes." Chase grinned, tugging at one of Martin's belt loops. "I'm glad you're home."

  "Really? What were you doing in the bathroom, Chase?"

  "Now that's a stupid question. What do you think I was doing?" He tapped his nose as Eric had done, and waited. Chase smiled. "Well, maybe a little of that, too. You

  want some?" "I'm not into drugs, man. I guess we never talked

  about that." "I just took one hit, no big deal. Helps me relax." "You were pretty relaxed yesterday, without chemical assistance."

  He grabbed Martin's collar and pulled him close. "Sure, when you were sucking my cock. Maybe we need to get rid of some of these bozos, and try that again."

  Martin's heart sank. He'd been thinking the same thing all day, but his apartment was trashed, and suddenly he wasn't in the mood. "I don't think so. We do need to get rid of these people, though." Looking past his shoulder, he saw a pile of wet towels on the bathroom floor. "Did you go swimming?"

  "The pool was great! Until that greaser came and shooed us off. Buzzkill."

  "His name is Pedro, and he's a very nice guy. He's done a lot for me, here. Please don't call him names."

  Chase raised his hands. "No offense intended. It’s cool. It’s all good."

  "You're wasted. I'm not crazy about this side of you, Chase."

  Turning his back, he slapped his jean-clad ass and grinned. "How about this side? You seemed to like this side pretty well!"

  Martin was torn. He never imagined asking Chase to leave, but he was sickened by this behavior. Perhaps it was better, for now. He needed time to sort things out in his mind. "I think you should go. Can Eric give you a ride home?"

  "Giving me the old brush off? I thought we had plans for tonight, before I left." He reached out, but Martin stepped back.

  "I thought we did, too, but this—" he glanced around the messy, crowded apartment, "changes things. You need to go, now."

  "Another "Whatever. I anybody…probably by somebody in this room."

  The comment stung more than he cared to admit. Martin frowned. "Shouldn't be a problem, then. Don’t let

  buzzkill." He shrugged and grinned.

  can get my cock sucked by the door hit you on the way out." He moved toward the other people, shuffling them to the exit. "Time to go. See you. Thanks for dropping in. Bye now."

  In a matter of minutes, the room had cleared. Martin locked the door behind the last person, and turned to survey the damage. Food, drinks and trash were strewn everywhere. Judging by the look of the clutter, his refrigerator was probably empty.

  It'd take him a good couple of hours to clean the small studio, but he didn't mind. He needed somewhere to focus his energy, and it was easier to be angry than hurt. The horrible feelings of betrayal and sadness would hit later, most likely when he climbed into bed alone. For now he was pissed, and wanted to relish in the feeling as long as he could.

  Chapter Four

  Martin knew if he was smart, he'd stay away from the Broad Street Gift Shop. By the following Saturday he was desperate, and found himself back there. He walked inside and looked around.

  Chase was behind the counter, and he looked up. "Hey. Didn't think I'd see you again."

  Martin scanned the store, making sure it was empty before he spoke too frankly. He stepped closer. "I thought you might call."

  "Didn't have your number." The shaggy-headed man shrugged. "I didn't even remember your last name."

  He still looked handsome as hell, and Martin's heart lurched. "You knew where I lived."

  "No car." He shrugged again, and smiled. "Sorry. I thought about you, though. I'm real sorry for what happened."

  "My refrigerator was empty, but the apartment was okay otherwise."

  "I'm not talking about the apartment." He leaned over the counter. "I'm sorry for disappointing you."

  "I'm not a total geek, you know. I understand lots of people do drugs, but that doesn't mean I think it's smart, or a good idea. I've seen that shit really mess people up, emotionally and financially."

  "I know, I've seen it, too. Believe me, I'm not hooked on anything. When I get with the guys, I go a little crazy sometimes." "Seems to me, you could use a new set of friends." "Nah, they're okay. I just need to behave myself. Seems to me, you might be the perfect person to help me do that." He smiled hopefully.

  Martin's heart told him the same thing, but his head was preaching caution. "I don't want to be your babysitter, man."

  "I don't need a babysitter." He moved from behind the counter, bringing them face to face. "I want someone to hang out with, have some fun—" he glanced around quickly, then added, "and more of that white-hot sex."

  His face grew warm, and Martin grinned. "It was pretty terrific."

  Chase's chest heaved with a low roll of laughter. "It was fucking fantastic. No doubt about it. I can bring the handcuffs next time."

  "I don't know." He hesitated, not only about the cuffs, but resuming the relationship in general. "I'm just not sure I can trust you, Chase."

  "Ouch. Okay, I deserved that one. I treated you wrong, and I'm willing to admit it."

  "Every time we argue, you say you're going to find someone else to have sex with. That gets me, man. I'm not used to that."

  Chase inhaled and exhaled slowly before speaking. "That's an old habit, a past history kind of thing. I should stop that. I can stop it."

  "And the drugs?" Martin winced. He hated to place so many demands, but felt it necessary.

  "Out of the picture. I'm clean and sober since Monday, I swear to God." Martin glanced at the ceiling and waited. "What are you doing?" "Making sure no lightning strikes you down." "You son-of-a-bitch!" Chase laughed, swatting his arm. "See? No lightning." "All right then." Martin gazed into the dark brown

  eyes watching him. "I missed you." "I missed you, too. Got any plans for tonight? We're

  going to listen to a new band at the club." "I hoped you and I might be able to do something

  alone." Chase grinned. "Oh, we will. Before and after the club, maybe. I promised the guys I'd be there, and I really want to go. After that, I'm all yours. Tomorrow, too, if you want." "I want." Martin smiled. "God, do I ever want." Chase took another furtive glance around before pressing his lips on Martin's, and his hand on his crotch. "I get off at six. Come back and pick me up. We'll go change, and head to the club from there."

  "Sounds good." Martin's cock throbbed against his jeans. He wasn't that excited about returning to the club, but he'd be with Chase. That was what excited him, more than anything he'd ever imagined. * * * * He pulled up on the street, as close to the gift shop as he could get. Chase spotted him and hurried to his car. "Hey." He slid into the seat. "Take a left up here." "We going to your house?" "Nah, I have some clothes at Eric's. It's close by, we'll

  go there." "Why not your place?" He made a face. "You don't want to meet my old lady.

  This is better. Turn right at the next corner." "I'd like to meet your mother." Chase glanced over at him, chuckling. "You probably would. Some other time, man. We have things to do tonight. Park on the street, right there." He hopped out as soon as the car came to a stop.

  Martin followed him up the stairs of the small house, where they entered without knocking. "Hello?" He looked around. It was small and old, but moderately clean.

  "Eric and the others will be here at seven-thirty. That gives us…" He moved down the hall. "A little over an hour."

  "Here?" Martin followed, glancing down the hall. "Are y
ou sure?"

  "Positive. Come here, now." Chase reached for his hand, dragging him into a bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind them, and pressed Martin up against it. "Miss me?" His mouth covered Martin's.

  The thick, studded tongue dove into his mouth. Opening his lips, Martin allowed the entry with pleasure. He'd come to enjoy the tinny, clinking sound of the metal piercing dragging his teeth. He wouldn't admit how much he'd missed the other man, but his bulging erection gave him away. He moaned.

  Chase pressed his lips against Martin's ear. "I know you did. I can feel your cock burn into my leg. Even through two sets of jeans, I can feel you—hot and hard. You want to fuck me, don't you?"

  "Oh God," he murmured in response. "I want that more than anything."

  Chase dropped to his knees, tugging at the belt and zipper before him. He dragged the jeans and boxers down, and inhaled at the jutting prick before him. "Yes. Just a taste, real quick, and then I'll bend over and you can take me." His tongue traced the length of the cock, the metal stud sending chills up Martin's spine. "Ah, just as good as I remembered. I'd love to stay longer, baby, but I know you well enough to realize you'd never last. You'll be shooting down my throat if I keep this up."

  "You do know me." Martin grunted, holding back the excitement growing as his tongue continued to tantalize his cock. "You're evil, you know that?"

  Chase chuckled. "I do know that. Okay, much as I'd like to swallow your offering, I know what you want." He stood and removed his jeans and briefs. From the nightstand he removed a towel, some condoms and lube. There was an overstuffed chair in the room, he draped the towel across the back and bent over it. "I'm all yours. Don't be gentle."

  Martin groaned again as he donned the rubber and greased his pulsing cock. He really needed to work on his endurance. Knowing how good this would feel, he wanted to prolong it, not rush through it. "Maybe I do need a cock ring." He nudged the head to Chase's ass, wetting the opening.

  "It'd help you last longer. I know where we can buy—" his statement was cut off as Martin pressed his cock into the tight hole. "Oh, yeah. No hesitation, I like that. Do me rough, baby."

  The outer ring accepted him, and he pressed on. "You want it a little rough?" Chase groaned. "A lot rough. Fuck me, Marty, hard." His cock was in deep, and he knew the other man's body well enough already, to know how much was too much. Pulling out abruptly, he slammed back in, as hard as he could. A flash of heat and pain pulsed through him, and he repeated the powerful thrust.

  "Oh yeah!" Chase hollered, followed by a guttural moan. "Oh Christ!"

  Martin clutched the hips before him and ground his cock forward. Chase's loose hanging balls slapped his tight ones as he pummeled, adding another dimension of excitement. Thrusting deep, he pulled back and drove in again. Repeating the process until he could barely stand the pressure, he grunted and gave in. Grasping Chase tight, he convulsed, and with several hot streams, emptied into the snug channel.

  He felt moisture on his knees and looked down. Chase had exploded into the towel, spraying them both with his hot seed. "Nice." He reached around and stroked the wet, flaccid cock. "Sorry I missed it."

  "Ah, you didn't miss anything, babe. You were right on target. That was great."

  Martin eased his cock from the twitching anus, stopping a minute to rub the hole gently as it fluttered back to normal size. "That was great. You're great." He kissed Chase's neck, running a warm hand over his back.

  The tattooed man grabbed the towel and wiped at his crotch. Tossing it aside, they faced each other, and he slid his arms around Martin's waist. "Kiss me."

  "Gladly." He obliged, his mouth still hungry for the studded tongue, and more. "Being with you feels right." "I think so, too." "Anybody home?" A masculine voice called from the

  other room. "He's early." Chase gave a lazy smile. "No problem.

  We'll continue this later, right?" "Absolutely. At my place." "You got it." He smiled again, and they cleaned up quickly before redressing. * * * * Tina had Martin's hair gelled and spiked to within an inch of its life when the phone rang. He heard someone answer it and call, "Chase, phone!"

  "I'm not here." Chase looked in the mirror, picking at his own spiked hairstyle.

  "You need to take this." Eric handed over the cordless phone. "She sounds bad."

  "Fuck!" Chase muttered, grabbed the phone, and stomped away. "What?" Martin looked at Eric with concern. "His old lady." He made a drinking motion. Martin followed Chase to the other room. "Okay, sit tight. I'll be right there. Ma, stop it. I'll be home in a few." He punched a button on the phone and slammed it on an end table. "What's wrong?" Chase glanced up, surprised to see him standing there. "What? Nothing. I have to run home real quick. I'll borrow Eric's car, and meet you guys at the club."

  "No." Martin touched his forearm. "I'm going with you."

  "Nope." The other man chuckled grimly. "You don't need to see this."

  "Yes, I do." Squeezing the arm tighter, he continued, "Look, are we together, or not?"

  Chase stared at him for a moment before yanking his arm away. "All right, you asked for it. I warn you right now, it ain't gonna be pretty." He stuck his head back into the other room. "Eric! We're taking off. We'll try to meet you later."

  "Cool," came the reply, from a man who didn’t seem too concerned about anything.

  "Are they getting high in there?" Martin muttered, as Chase shuffled him out the door.

  "Probably, but I'm not. That's all you need to worry about, right?" His voice had a hard edge. "Please don't be that way. I'm just trying—" "Drive. Take a left at the corner, and drive." Without replying, he got in the car and did as instructed. Chase directed him to what he figured was the man's home. Martin was anxious to get a glimpse of it, and meet the mother he'd heard very little about."

  "Here." Chase pointed to a small, rundown, blue house. He parked in the driveway. "This looks nice." "Yeah, it's a fucking palace. Can I ask you one more time towait out here?" "Come on, I'm a nice guy. Mothers like me." He

  offered a hopeful smile. "Okay." Chase shrugged, and entered the house.

  "Ma?" "Chase?" a woman's voice called from another room.

  "Did you bring a bottle?" "No, Ma. I didn't get paid yet." Doors slammed and loud footsteps pounded down the hall. "You don't have enough for one fucking bottle?" She appeared in the doorway, a short woman with wild, unkempt brown hair, and a pinched look on her face. She wore a faded, dirty robe. A cigarette hung from the corner of her mouth. "Who the fuck are you?"

  When she focused on him, Martin saw her dark eyes were exactly the same shade as her son’s. He stepped forward nervously. "I'm Martin Benson, Ma'am, a friend of Chase's. Pleased to meet you."

  "Got any money?" She looked him over, grinding out her cigarette in an overflowing ashtray on the table. "I, uh—" he glanced at Chase. "No he doesn't Ma. Look, drink some coffee and watch

  TV, will you? We were just going out." "I don't want coffee!" She picked up an empty liquor

  bottle and tipped it into her mouth. "I need another bottle!" "You need to behave yourself, and calm down. I'm not—" The glass bottle whizzed by his head, and Chase ducked. It hit the wall behind him and shattered.

  Martin gaped with shock, but Chase appeared unaffected. He said calmly, "Look at what you've done. You'll cut yourself if you're not more careful. Marty, there's a broom around the corner, in the kitchen. Could you grab it, and the dustpan, please?"

  "Sure." Grateful for something to do, he hurried into the kitchen and looked around. It stunk of rotting food and sour milk. Dishes were piled high in the sink. He spotted the broom, and lifting it, flinched as a bug scuttled away. "God damn!"

  "What?" Chase stepped up behind him. "Shit, it stinks in here." "I think there was a cockroach." "More than one," Chase agreed, and took the broom. "Help me sweep this up, will you? If she steps in the glass, we'll spend half the night in the emergency room."

  "Sure." He picked up the big pieces as Chase swept, and they threw it all in the tras
h.

  "I hate to ask this," Chase said quietly, "but there's a liquor store a few blocks over. Could you go get a bottle of the cheapest vodka they have, and bring it back, please?"

  He glanced at the woman pacing the living room, muttering and swearing to herself. "Are you sure that's the right way to handle this?"

  "Believe me, I've tried every possible way. If we want to get out of here tonight, it's what needs to happen. It shouldn't cost too much." "I'm not worried about the money, it's her—" "Don't worry about her, she'll be fine. Just go, okay?" Nodding, Martin did as he was asked. He felt horrible all the way to the liquor store and back, knowing this wasn't the answer for the woman. How could he get Chase to see it?

  He knocked on their front door when he returned, then entered, bottle in hand.

  "Well, look at you!" Her face lit up when she spotted the bottle. "What a nice young man." She patted Martin's face and grabbed the vodka with a firm grip.

  "Here's a glass, Ma." Chase came from the kitchen drying his hands, and handed her a glass. "Start out using one, anyway, will ya? Make it last, I'm not coming back tonight."

  "Of course." She took the glass, hugging the bottle to her chest. "This'll last a good long time. Thank you, baby."

  "At least through tonight," he muttered to Martin, and turned back to his mother. "I loaded the dishwasher and it's running. If you'd keep up with that, the bugs wouldn't be so bad. I sprayed around the floorboards, but we'll probably need to get the exterminator back out here."

  "Whatever you say." She settled on the sofa, visibly calmer with her bottle, and the remote control to the TV.

  Martin glanced around the cluttered room. On the mantle of a crumbling fireplace, he spotted a picture that made him look twice. A small blond haired child smiled from the large, framed photo. He recognized it as the same face on Chase's chest tattoo—the blonde headed girl with angel wings. He wanted to ask about it, but knew this wasn't the time. "We're leaving, Ma. Be careful." "I'll be fine," she said to the TV. "Yeah. Night." Chase motioned toward the door. "Let's