by P. W. Davies
Even if part of him wondered what more than a drink would be like.
Lost in thought for a moment, he almost didn’t realize that Christian hadn’t answered. Silence hung around them, making Victor wonder if he’d misread the situation.
Finally, Christian saved him from himself. “I have two conditions,” he said, looking Victor solidly in the eyes.
He tried to ignore the heat it caused. “Make your case.”
That got a laugh. It was rough but merry. “The first is that I pick the place. I refuse to drink the pisswater that passes for beer in most of these places.”
Victor chuckled. Not knowing enough about British alcohol to try and defend against that statement made it wiser to accept. “Done. And the second?”
Christian hesitated, looking down the street for a second before settling back on Victor. “If you’re the type for a quickie in the men’s room, I’m not in the mood tonight.”
That caught him off guard. He was certain that Christian saw something on his expression because the other man quickly held up both his hands as though surrendering. “I’m going to be on the clock in a few hours,” Christian explained.
Something about that statement rang as a lie, but Victor wasn’t certain which part was untruthful. It was entirely possible that Christian was simply turning him down nicely without having to actually turn him down. “Then I have one condition of my own,” Victor said.
Christian grinned, the expression almost feral. “Make your case.”
He made note of the fact that Christian was the type who liked issuing competing challenges. Definitely a turn-on. “If we last longer than forty-five minutes, starting now, you give me another night.”
It was risky to ask. But he wanted to know before he let his imagination run away with him that there was some chance of follow through. That was the whole point, wasn’t it? To finally discover what it was like to be with another man. Christian might be attractive and worth spending time with, but Victor had a very specific need he wanted to be met. And he wasn’t the type to just –
His train of thought was cut off when Christian stepped closer. For half a moment, Victor didn’t know what to expect. He found himself staring eye-to-eye with the slightly shorter man, who encroached upon his personal space and touched the side of Victor’s face. Victor’s mind screamed; all his senses ignited in unison and while he felt Christian overshadow him, his eyes fluttered shut, his hands lifting without settling on anything. A part of him wondered if this was really about to happen.
When it did, the universe exploded into life.
Christian’s lips touched his and as Victor opened his mouth, he felt the slick, warm presence of Christian’s tongue, exploring and touching his. Music swelled inside of his head, a manic and cacophonous mixture of strings and percussion instruments, and as he kissed Christian back, it felt like all of Philadelphia might be gathered around them, watching.
When Christian retreated, Victor wondered if the wind had become five degrees cooler.
“If that answers your question, can we get that drink now?” Christian asked. “I’ve grown very thirsty.”
“You are not the only one,” Victor said, muttering the words. Christian assumed a place by his side again, looking visibly pleased. Something about the childish enthusiasm was appealing, almost as much as Christian’s accent and his competitive wit. If it hadn’t all seemed so natural, coming from him, Victor would have thought those observations a contradiction. Instead, it added to Victor’s intrigue regarding Christian.
Together, they strode to one of the tall, ritzy buildings that had been renovated in the last year. Victor couldn’t remember exactly when because there seemed to be a lot of construction downtown these days. As the door swung shut behind them, the strains of jazz music surrounded them and carried over to the bar counter where they sat side-by-side and ordered their drinks. A whiskey for Christian. Brandy for Victor.
“So, do you always feel at liberty to kiss strange men in public?” Victor asked, the question genuine but also on his mind because his lips still buzzed from the embrace.
Christian failed to answer at first, waiting for the bartender to finish preparing their drinks. Thankfully it was a quick delivery followed by a quick step away, leaving them free to talk. “You’ll find I’m not much of a stickler for the rules,” he said.
“Interesting,” Victor said, genuinely thoughtful. “I spend most of my day firmly within them.”
“And what is it you do with your day?”
Something about answering the question made Victor hesitate. He didn’t want to try to impress Christian with his profession, and advertising he was a corporate lawyer only ever garnered one train of conversation. “We didn’t come here to talk about work.”
Christian perked an eyebrow before turning back to his drink. “I suppose not.” He drank down a healthy swallow and motioned to the bartender that he wanted a refill. Victor wondered about work anyway, pondering what Christian’s job could possibly be that he was comfortable consuming two heavy drinks before being ‘on the clock’. Not a stickler for the rules at all. Or, he knew his tolerance and was confident he’d be sober when it was time to head in. Both seemed equally possible, so Victor let the train of thought drop.
“Let’s go sit in a pair of those cushy chairs over there,” Christian said, bringing Victor’s attention back to him. He lifted his chin in the direction where Victor had spotted a sitting area when they walked in. “I’d like a better view without having to crane my neck.”
It took a second for Victor to realize that Christian meant he wanted to look at him while they talked. The idea of being considered a better view made his skin warm. “Lead the way.”
As soon as the bartender refilled his drink, Christian did just that. He chose a chair facing into the main area of the room, leaving Victor the choice of one directly to the side or across a small table. Without hesitation, he chose the to sit at Christian’s left but angled the chair beforehand, near enough that their knees could bump if they weren’t careful. Or if I play my cards right.
“This is better,” Victor said as he settled in. “Much quieter at the very least.”
Christian nodded in agreement. “I prefer my little corners when I can find them.”
“More chance to assess the people around you before they notice you doing so.”
The smile he received in response was almost predatory and seemed to hint at a secret lurking just out of sight. “I find it useful to know who I’m surrounded by.”
“It does come in handy, even if some people can be easily unnerved by what you notice.”
“And I’m not allowed to ask about work.” Christian settled back into his seat, eyes assessing Victor. “Or do you idly people watch?”
“I tend to make idle observations of things that catch my eye,” Victor said. “It doesn’t always win me friends.”
That comment inspired Christian to look at him more warmly, which Victor assumed to be sympathy. Or perhaps empathy. I wonder if we have that in common. ”Things that stay the same no matter what side of the ocean I’m on,” Christian said. “Friends are difficult to come by, harder to keep.” There was a trace of bitterness in his tone.
Not knowing what spurred it, Victor smiled gently. “Do you keep in touch with anyone at home?”
Christian’s eyes snapped to him. He thought he saw storm clouds within their depths. “No work talk for you. No home talk for me.” Before Victor could respond in acknowledgment, Christian drank down a good portion of his drink and said, “You didn’t ask me for a drink just to recount what had us alone on a street on a Thursday night.” His tone was back to being suggestive, almost playful, and Victor took it as a request. ’I said yes to a drink,’ Christian seemed to be saying. ’Distract me.’
Victor took a swallow of his brandy, forming his next question in his mind before speaking aloud. “To return to our earlier topic, of you, and me, and scandalous things,” he wondered why that had been
the word to come to mind but pushed past it to finish, “What would you do with me right now if you didn’t have somewhere else to be?”
Christian laughed, a sharp peal of mirth that faded as quickly as it surfaced. “Do you truly want me to answer that?” When Victor gestured a hand at him, Christian shrugged and drank down more of his whiskey. “You asked for it.”
Victor tensed in anticipation as Christian inched forward in his chair, leaning closer. It made him wonder if something like the kiss they had shared would follow; at least until Christian inclined his head to whisper in Victor’s ear. His warm breath caressed his skin, Victor’s grip on his glass tightening even before the other man had a chance to speak. When he did, though, what his lips produced could only be described as sin.
“You laid out on the bar,” Christian said as his opening salvo. “Everybody watching while I stripped every piece of clothing off your body. And whoever remained – whoever wanted to watch you unravel – would see me wrap my mouth around your cock and tease you until you begged to be finished. And at that point, I would slide on top of you, sink you inside of me, and see how long you lasted until you came. How does that sound?”
The visuals exploded to life, making his pants tight and the bottom of his stomach ache. As Christian sat back again, making eye contact with Victor the entire time, the latter warred with himself for what to say in response. He could feign bravado to bluff his way through a scandalous battle of taunts and teases. Or he could be honest about what it was that prompted him to ask Christian for a drink in the first place.
“You prefer being on top?” Victor asked, deciding on a middle ground. He schooled his face to show a taunting form of curiosity, keeping his thoughts of inexperience at bay.
Shrugging, Christian polished off the remainder of his second glass of whiskey. “I like watching the reactions of the other person.” If he knew the effect his words had on Victor – and Victor was very certain that Christian not only knew, but had enjoyed it – he had decided to be more casual about his follow up. Christian’s eyes flicked over Victor, looking for something. “You definitely like to top.”
Victor raised an eyebrow, leaving the obvious question unspoken.
Christian grinned and gestured toward him. “Am I wrong?”
This was dangerous territory if he wasn’t going to reveal his secret just yet. “I like a lot of things,” he said, carefully sidestepping a direct lie. “With the right person.”
“Touché.” Christian leaned back further into his seat and glanced around the room. “What do you think the right person looks like? And please,” he held up his hands, palms toward Victor in a gesture that could be read as a halt, “Don’t try to sell me some line about it being me. I know what I look like to someone like you.”
That made Victor furrow his brow. He wasn’t certain what Christian was alluding to, but it seemed unflattering. Curious. He doesn’t seem off-put by my interest. So why the comment? ”Attractive. Successful. An idea of what they want from life while still being open to surprises.” He lingered on the last comment, realizing he had veered into discussing some of his hopes for his own future and the type of man he wanted to be. “Definitely not someone I work with,” he rounded off.
Christian looked both amused and intrigued. “So, you have some pent-up feelings, hmm? Someone you’d like to pin to the wall and taste the skin hidden underneath those fine suits?”
Christian was taunting him with words that were equal parts promise of things he could do and inspiring Victor’s own fantasies about being the person doing the exploring. Clever man. ”I’ll admit to nothing on the record, but perhaps one or two of my colleges has caused me to ponder what it could be like if we weren’t all so professional.”
“So, I’m a convenient outlet.” There was a challenge in Christian’s words.
“Convenient. Attractive. Definitely not someone I work with. And your eyes are the most mesmerizing blue I’ve ever seen.” Christian didn’t seem impressed, so Victor pressed on. “Then there’s your cavalier attitude. I asked you for a drink, and you were interested, but it still surprised me when you kissed me on the street.” An epiphany struck Victor as he realized something about the moment leading up to that kiss. “You care, but prefer to seem as though nothing can get under your skin.” When that still didn’t settle the storm clouds that had reappeared in Christian’s eyes, Victor took a gamble. He leaned forward in his chair, setting his brandy on the nearby side table so he could settle a hand on Christian’s knee without fear of spilling his drink.
Christian seemed skeptical. Up until the moment Victor’s hand slid toward his hip and Victor had the satisfaction of hearing the other man’s breath hitch. He barely resisted the urge to smirk, and only because there was something else he wanted to do.
Leaning over Christian, shadowing him in his seat, Victor pressed their lips together. He gave Christian plenty of time to move away or turn his head or otherwise indicate that this wasn’t something he wanted. But the moment their mouths sealed together, Victor was certain about one thing. He wasn’t the only one who saw something in the other man, even if neither of them could put it into words.
The interest was mutual. And it was a beginning. Of what, he didn’t know. Maybe an extended affair. Or the beginnings of a friends-with-benefits type of relationship. It could simply be that they both needed something, and both were available to provide it for however long this might last.
What he did know, as Christian’s lips trembled against his, was that he wanted to know what it was like to run his hands over Christian’s skin, to see if those shivers could be provoked in other ways.
When they both needed to breathe, Victor pulled away. He hummed few notes absently, not realizing he it had been loud enough for Christian to hear. As he sat back into his own chair, Christian’s eyes opened slowly, and Victor was pleased at the flushed expression he’d inspired.
Definitely worth kissing him again.
“I need to go.”
The statement had a similar effect as a bucket of cold water. Victor barely suppressed a frown, schooling his features again, this time into something more neutral. He nodded at Christian, realizing that while the comment had been made, the other man hadn’t moved. Victor relaxed, his fears of Christian reconsidering their fling reducing each moment Christian stayed seated. He is saying that more to himself than to me. ”Of course. I hope I didn’t keep you too long.”
“No. I just prefer being early sometimes.” The lie wasn’t quite thought through, and Victor would have bet that Christian was swearing at himself internally.
“Can I give you my number?” Victor asked, his tone cautious but clear in what answer he wanted.
“No.” The flicker of disappointment didn’t have a chance to settle before Christian finished. “I’ll give you mine. That way, when you reconsider this, you won’t have to wonder how to answer my messages.”
This time, Victor clearly heard the bitterness in Christian’s words. He watched as the other man walked to the bar and grabbed a pen from behind the counter. A napkin became a cliched prop in their evening, which Christian brought back over with one hand shoved in a pocket and the other thrusting the paper toward Victor.
He stood and gently took the napkin out of Christian’s hand. Victor studied the other man’s sudden closed-off posture, wondering what was rattling around in his mind causing it. “Christian.” Blue eyes intersected his again. Victor smiled warmly. He simply wanted Christian to know before he left that there while there was no demand being issued that Victor didn’t think he would reconsider his interest. “Texting or calling?”
Christian’s chin rose, almost petulant in his resistance of understanding what Victor was trying to communicate. “Texting,” he said. “I’ll just assume you lost the napkin if you don’t.”
Without any further words, Christian spun on his heel and walked swiftly out of the bar.
Victor didn’t bother watching him leave. Instead, as soon as he knew Ch
ristian wouldn’t be turning back around, he withdrew his phone from his pocket and took a picture of the napkin before entering a new entry into his contacts.
Then he paid the bill and made his way home. The entire time, his thoughts remained on the mysterious stranger.
He texted one thing before getting ready for bed.
Haven’t reconsidered yet.
Not expecting a response, Victor settled in with a book and some soft music. Despite his resolve to resist worrying over whether Christian would communicate back or not, he found himself glancing at the clock far more often than he liked to admit.
He’d put himself out on a ledge tonight. Asking a stranger for a drink – a man – with the express purpose of pushing past his uncertainty about sharing that sort of intimacy for the first time had been both exhilarating and terrifying. Being honest, he was relieved that Christian hadn’t been able to take him to bed. Those blue eyes had been clear about two things: Christian was confident in his attraction to men, and he was hiding something deeply personal away from the world.
Victor tried to lose himself in his book, so he wouldn’t keep himself awake imagining what scenarios fit best with his observations about Christian. He put in a good effort to read but he had to go back to the beginning of a page far more times than he made it through in one go. It was hours before he managed to fall asleep, and when he did, it was with a pair of blue eyes telling him that for all his imagination he had no idea what he might be getting into.
Five
Idiot, he thought as he left. This is what you get for improvising. Even he had to admit, he didn’t think it was going to turn hot so quickly, even if that first glance, two days ago, had broadcast Victor’s interest. Seeing him again, and the heady way Victor’s gaze had paired with his, should have been one final warning to run.
If only Christian was the type to listen to warnings.