Model Men

by Neil Plakcy

  It was fascinating.

  Gabe snorted. “She’s such a bitch.”

  “Oh! I thought this was an all-men’s show.” He’d assumed the blond was a man, but his cheekbones were high enough to be a woman’s.

  “It is.”

  As if to confirm, Niko stood from the chair in a nude thong. His impressive length distended the bottom of the nylon. He held his arms out, and they dressed him in a very short kimono topped with a corset. He frowned at the shoes they’d chosen and shook his head.

  Assistants rushed to offer several pairs to choose from. Niko consented to wear some platforms and stepped into them as the woman who had gone to the forbidden table returned with a champagne flute.

  He took a sip and then smiled at the long line of men. The stylists had just finished with a bustle ending in a long train when Niko approached them, seeming not to walk so much as glide.

  Matt was so fixated on Niko’s long, pale legs that he didn’t notice Niko staring right at him.

  “You’re new.” Niko smiled. They’d painted his lips black; they were perfect, with a sharply indented Cupid’s bow. His teeth were blindingly white, and the black paint around his gray eyes made them eerie.

  “Yeah, this is my first show.”

  Niko’s brows rose. “Well, this is a good show for a newbie to book. Are you nervous?”

  Matt nodded. His cheeks felt hot. Everyone was staring at him, but that wasn’t nearly as intimidating as Niko’s eyes roving over his body like he was noting flaws. Matt wished he could look away, but Niko was too absorbing, too ethereal. If Matt looked away, Niko might vanish altogether. “Yes.”

  Niko sipped his champagne and then handed it to Matt. “Don’t drink it; just hold it. I’ll be back.”

  “But I have to—I mean, I’m going to go on stage.”

  Niko laughed. “You’re so cute.”

  The music was ramping up, and the designer appeared. Niko turned as the designer greeted him. They air-kissed one another and the designer made minor adjustments to Niko’s wardrobe. Then Niko stalked up the stairs and onto the stage. The lights hit him, and he glimmered from head to toe. Applause.

  Gabe rolled his eyes. “He is such a pig.”

  Matt leaned forward until Niko was too far down the stage for Matt to watch. “A pig? Why do you say that? Does he get around?”

  Gabe opened his mouth to speak, but another model said, “Niko gets what he wants, but he’s never wanted Gabe.”

  The man winked at Matt and returned his attention to the catwalk.

  Matt raised his brows. In spite of popular belief, most male models weren’t gay. Some experimented, but it broke down about average for the general population; some guys were more sensitive about it than others, so Matt had kept his thoughts to himself. “You like him?”

  “No.” Gabe sulked and shook his head. “I don’t like him. I don’t want him. I have a girlfriend. He just gets everything handed to him because he’s the heir to a lotion fortune. Everyone kisses his ass and acts like he’s royalty, but he’s not all that.”

  Niko reappeared and the next model stepped onto the runway. There were only three models ahead of Matt now. It made him jittery.

  Niko descended the stairs and plucked the champagne from Matt’s hand. He sipped, casting Gabe a quick glance, then focused again on Matt. “Don’t worry, babe. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Just be fierce.”

  With that, Niko swatted Matt’s ass and headed to the racks for his next outfit.

  “Be fierce,” Matt told himself. Then he was on. The lights hit him, blinding him to the audience. The music pumped a good beat for striding, and he walked, thinking about Niko’s graceful strides, the slight swagger in his shoulders, the way he cocked his head.

  He hit the end of the runway, paused, looked at the blank outlines of people, and turned, striding back. He wanted to think about beer, but all he could think about was champagne.

  Gabe gave him a nod as Matt passed him on the runway, and then Matt hit the steps and it was over. He’d only been hired for one look.

  His eyes were still adjusting, but he recognized Niko’s voice. “Killed it, Matt. You totally killed it.”

  Matt’s stomach flipped. “How do you know my name?”

  Now that he could see better, he took in what little Niko wore. Ornate strips of silver leather wound up his legs, around his torso and down his arms. Makeup artists struggled to finish off his look.

  “I’m a witch.” Niko glanced to the wall where there was the model board on which each model was featured with a Polaroid and his name written in Sharpie below.

  Matt rolled his eyes at himself. Still, it was a good sign that Niko had bothered to look him up. “How do you know I killed it?”

  “You really are new, aren’t you?” Niko pointed at a monitor mounted on a rolling cart. The designer was glued to its screen.

  Gabe gave Matt a light shove as he moved past him.

  The action made Niko smirk. He followed Gabe with his eyes and raised a brow.

  “In any case, my runway-killer Matt, I should let you tend to your friend, time for me to get back on stage. Tell Gabe not to pout too much. He is, after all, closing the show. Though I imagine he’s just sore that I got there first.”

  Niko headed back to the stage, leaving Matt to puzzle over what that meant.

  The modeling world was bewildering.

  Matt changed into his street clothes next to Gabe, glancing at him furtively. He’d just met him but felt some loyalty. Or that’s what he told himself. Niko was intimidating; even his kindness seemed barbed.

  Matt finished removing his makeup. In the mirror, he could see Niko behind him, pulling the straps of his costume off, air-kissing the designer again, pulling his clothes on.

  Gabe got up without a word and went to the end of the line to close the show. He refused to look Matt in the eye.

  Matt watched Gabe moving up the line, wondering what happened next. Gabe was hot and all, but not of Niko’s caliber.

  “Wakey, wakey. He’s straight-ish, Matt. Don’t waste your time on him. Waste your time on me.” Niko grinned. Even without the black lipstick, his smile was dazzling. He’d left the eyeliner on, but his lips were pink and glossy. “The champagne here is for shit. Come on.”

  He tugged on Matt’s shirt and gave him a pout that probably got him anything he wanted.

  “What about the afterparty?” Matt was already on his feet, following.

  Niko smiled over his shoulder. “I’ll show you where the real party is.”

  That was all it took. A smile from those perfectly formed lips, a lowering of those eyes to reveal those perfect lashes, the turn of his head, and the promise of danger. Matt followed him out through the double doors and down the winding hallways until they were outside in the brisk air.

  They’d gone out the back to avoid the crowd. There was a red Ducati motorcycle parked against one of the pillars. It looked more like an anime machine than a real vehicle. Matt followed Niko to it.

  After unlocking it, Niko straddled the thing and raised his brows. “There’s only one helmet, so here you go.”

  There was something sexy about the rail-thin blond in eyeliner and long streaming hair offering to drive Matt on the back of that machine. Something dangerous. And that’s what Niko was: sexy, dangerous, hard to pin down.

  “What about you?”

  Niko’s smirks were the sign of cruel thoughts that were about to be given word. “I’m the dangerous one. You’re the one who needs protecting. Put it on; get on the bike. I’m not staying here all night while you try and figure out where you misplaced your balls.”

  Matt crushed his hair under the helmet, though he wasn’t sure how necessary it was. Fashion Week traffic was notoriously slow.

  As soon as he hopped on and wrapped his arms around Niko, he was grateful to be wearing it.

  Niko gave little warning to the other models milling about or the few fashion people who had spotted them and were coming over
to take pictures or chat. He simply revved the Ducati, and then rocketed down the short length of stairs to the sidewalk. Niko didn’t even brake. He sped into the traffic and wove between the stuck cars at a speed that made Matt worry he was going to lose a limb.

  It was dark out and the lights streaked by like they did in the movies. People honked their horns. Fists and fingers came out of windows, but Niko didn’t slow down. His hair whipped back behind him, straying over the edges of Matt’s helmet. A few strands got under it, tickling his chin.

  Luckily for Matt and the contents of his stomach, they didn’t have far to go. Chelsea was only a few blocks away, and at the breakneck speed with which Niko had taken sidewalks, roads, any surface, they were already riding up a ramp into a parking garage.

  The building they’d approached was all plate glass and girders, like its wealthy occupants liked looking down on the plebs to see how they lived their petty lives.

  Niko lived in one of the top three floors. There were only a few doors in the hallway, all done up in a chilly modern style with polished wood and brushed steel.

  The condo was an open two-story plan, windows floor to ceiling on one side. The kitchen was at one end, a television and low couches at the other. There was a loft space on the second floor that presumably held the bed.

  Niko headed to the kitchen first, where he pulled a bottle from his wine chiller. Then he pulled a baggie of weed from somewhere in the spice rack. “Anything else you want?”

  “Where is the party?”

  “I am the party.” He started climbing to the loft.

  Matt fluffed his hair, hoping to look rakish rather than helmet-headed. He checked his reflection in the window and primped until he decided he looked good enough. By the time he got upstairs, Niko was already sitting on the bed naked. The lights of the city twinkled, casting Niko’s pale body in shades of blue. He had his back to Matt, leaning on one arm, hair covering one shoulder.

  Niko drank straight from the bottle. “Roll me one.”

  Matt crossed the room, pulling off his shirt. He tossed it to the side and then toed off his shoes when he got to the foot of the bed. Niko sat back to enjoy the show as Matt slowly unbuckled his pants and then pushed them off over his hips.

  Niko cupped his hand over Matt’s length through his boxer briefs. Then, with a quick pull, the elastic waistband rolled down and his cock sprang from the fabric. Niko pulled again, dragging them down to his ankles. Matt stepped out of them and sat next to Niko, feet resting on the cool wooden floor.

  The paper and the baggy sat there among the velvety blue sheets. Once Matt had the joint rolled and lit, Niko traded the bottle of wine for it. The wine was red and tasted like blood and ash.

  With half the joint smoked, Niko took the bottle back and set it on the hardwood floor. He passed Matt the joint. Niko dropped to his knees on the floor and spread Matt’s legs. With his face between Matt’s thighs, Niko grabbed the base of Matt’s cock, ringing it with thumb and forefinger to twist at the base. He warmed the tip with his mouth, just breathing on it.

  The sensation made Matt’s legs tense up, his body on edge for more. He felt loose and happy, open to the possibilities. Niko flicked his tongue along the tip, still ghosting his fingers over the shaft.

  Niko looked up at Matt, lips wrapped around the tip. He placed his hands on Matt’s hips, keeping him in place so that Niko could moderate how deeply his mouth was fucked. He controlled the pace but took the cock deep into his throat. His cheeks bulged as his mouth filled and hollowed as he pulled away.

  Matt dropped the remainder of the joint into the ashtray next to the bed. He held himself up on the bed sheets, but just barely. His grip kept loosening with how hard, how intensely Niko took his cock. Each time he looked down and saw that gorgeous blond head bobbing, those pillow lips clutched tight around his cock, Matt almost lost it.

  Niko slurped and released Matt’s cock from his mouth. A tiny trail of saliva connected his lip and the cock, then snapped as Niko spoke. “Don’t cum yet.”

  He crawled back onto the bed, pushing Matt down on his way to the nightstand. From there, Niko produced a couple of condoms and lube. “Turn over.”

  Without question, Matt pressed his face into the pillows, leaving his legs parted.

  Niko kissed up Matt’s back, his neck, over his shoulders. The blond’s erection felt like it was leaving wet kisses up Matt’s leg as he crawled up his body.

  Already Matt was fucking the bed linens. His hole clenched with want.

  The clenching was met with Niko’s warm, slick fingers. He rubbed the hole gently, barely breaching until Matt caught his breath. Niko kissed the back of Matt’s neck as he pressed his fingers into him. Again he paused, waiting for Matt to relax, then worked his way in. It wasn’t the sort of preparation Matt needed, but he appreciated the gesture.

  He heard Niko unwrapping a condom and waited until he felt that solid warmth pressing between his cheeks.

  “You need to work for the next couple of days?” Niko asked.

  “More runway.” Matt turned his head on the pillow, trying to look back at Niko.

  “I’ll go easy then.” He bit Matt’s shoulder lightly as he angled himself against Matt’s opening.

  Niko breached him and it occurred to Matt that he had appreciated neither just how big this cock was nor the need for Niko to prep him for it. Matt hissed through his teeth, feeling split wider than he could ever remember being. Niko’s body was so thin and angular that his hip bones bruised. He gripped Matt from behind, his arms looping under him for a better grip. His nails bit into Matt’s shoulder, but he was careful not to drag welts.

  Niko had gone slowly as requested, but he was a lot bigger than Matt expected. Each movement took Matt’s breath away. He sweat and grunted with each of Niko’s thrusts but pushed back, craving more.

  His thrusts took on a slow, sensual rhythm, in no hurry to cum. For Matt, the pain of the intense stretch was giving way to a more ecstatic feeling. Inside of him, there was an itch only Niko’s cock could scratch, and Matt twisted to get the head just there.

  Matt grunted loudly as the sensations mounted. His knees rubbed raw as he scrambled against the sheets to keep Niko’s cock where he needed it.

  Sweat poured down his temples, and he gasped for breath. His body tightened. He burrowed his face into the pillow to muffle his cries. His balls ached for him to let go; his legs burned. Matt was trembling, his body surging with need to cum, when Niko sat up behind him.

  “Fuck!” Matt said into the pillow. He was sure it was sweat, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if the wetness at his eyes was tears.

  Niko grabbed Matt by the shoulders and turned him over.

  The fucker was smirking.

  Matt was about to start shouting expletives when Niko ducked his shoulders in under the backs of Matt’s knees and folded him in half.

  With a smooth, decisive movement, Niko was back inside him. The shock of loss and resumed spearing left Matt’s body confused and sweating. But now he could see Niko’s arched eyebrows furrowing, how flushed his face was, and the rivulets of sweat dribbling down his jaw line. His blond hair stuck to his cheeks as he gasped for breath. His eyes closed like he was in a trance, a very intense dream he was determined to get to the end of.

  Matt pulled his own cock, watching Niko, thinking about how beautiful he was, how much he needed to cum—how much he wanted Niko to be the one who made him cum.

  Matt tensed. His legs tightened again, and he trembled as his body strove towards climax. This time he didn’t have to move to get Niko where he wanted him. Niko seemed to know instinctively how and when to twist his hips, when to lean down and kiss Matt, when to bite his lip.

  Niko moaned into Matt’s ear; his breath was humid and smelled of old grapes and weed. He moved Matt’s hand and replaced it with his own, pulling Matt’s cock in time to his thrusts. His fingers squeezed hard, gripped at odd angles, forcing the pleasant and uncomfortable sensations to their absolute
limit.

  Even the pinching, even the twisting of his cock in Niko’s hand felt amazing. Matt’s body was so tense now that he felt like he would either cum or combust. His throat was on fire from moaning so loudly; his chest hurt; his body throbbed with each thrust like a heartbeat that started at its root deep inside his body. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. The tingling inside him intensified, and then, with shouted curses, he let go, jolting with each jet of spunk that shot from his cock and splattered hot on his chest.

  “Fuck. Fuck you, Niko. Fuck.”

  Before his wits returned to him, Niko had him rolled over, kneeling face-down in the pillow. Niko fucked him hard enough that Matt had to time his exhales with the thrusts or couldn’t breathe. Their bodies slapped together like their own applause.

  He’d never been fucked so hard or for so long. Matt twisted his face to the side, trying to get fresh air, but he thought he might well strangle from this. He was about to ask for mercy when Niko made a guttural sound.

  After a few more hard pumps, Niko dropped on Matt’s back and crushed him into the bed.

  They lay still for a few minutes; Matt was grateful for the respite to catch his breath. It was like hyperventilating; his lungs refused to work properly for a few frightening seconds. But soon he found his breath again and tried to get it under control.

  On top of him, Niko’s breathing was steady and calm, so slow that Matt worried he’d fallen asleep.

  But once Matt could speak, Niko rolled from him and pulled off the condom. He tossed it on the floor. “There’s a party we can still go to if you want.”

  Matt was too sore and overwhelmed to want to do anything but lay there. “Nah.”

  He rolled over on his side to look at Niko, who sat cross-legged on the bed.

  Niko had found his bag of weed and papers; he rolled a new joint. “Good. Those parties are fucking lame.”

  He got up and cracked open one of the panes on the giant wall of windows. Chilly fall air freshened the room. Niko blew the smoke out of the window.