by Clancy Nacht
Jason tried to yank his arm back, but his sleeve caught on the counter and revealed, in clumsy left-hand block letters, a home tattoo reading CHRIS. Jason slapped his other hand over the mark, but it was too late. Chris had seen.
"Shut up."
Chris couldn't breathe. "I didn't say anything."
"But you're going to, and I don't want to hear it. I did it a long time ago, before I knew what an asshole you were."
It wasn't that long ago. If he'd had any doubt that Jason had been a virgin, they were dashed now. Tattooing himself wasn't a rational act done by a scam artist. It was the action of a lovesick boy who'd just lost his virginity. Chris's heart felt like it would burst from how much he felt for Jason now. "Oh, Jason. Is that what you were going to show me?"
"Leave me alone!" Jason tried to yank his hand away again, but Chris gripped the wrist with both hands.
He leaned down and kissed the soft skin of Jason's wrist just below the latex. Then he looked up and around.
"You got a job."
"It's not a job. Coffee-making is my new hobby." His lower lip trembled, so he bit it. Lipstick smeared on his teeth.
"You're very good at it. Your coffee was extraordinary."
"Seriously, Chris. Shut up."
Chris frowned and released Jason's hand.
Jason pulled his wrist to his chest as if he had been cut. "I have my own money now. I rarely steal people's hotel room keys anymore."
"I didn't intend to change you." But Chris couldn't help his relief. "Your lifestyle was dangerous. Where do you live now?"
"Why, so you can play scarecrow there?" Jason's hair fell in his face. He peeked up through the fringe.
Chris detected some give and pounced. "So I know where to pick you up for dinner."
Jason laughed and took a Bundt cake out of the case and then pushed it across the counter at him. "There's your dinner."
Not the best sign, but Chris anticipated some sass. "Are you seeing someone else?"
"What, so they could break my heart, too? Fuck you."
"Please. Let me take you out. Give me a chance to make it right. I didn't mean to break your heart. I got confused. How was I supposed to know someone as magnificent as you would want to be with someone like me?"
The ice started to melt. Jason cocked his head. "I suppose you have a point there."
"It'll be perfect. I promise."
Jason rubbed his bottom lip on his latexed thumb as he considered it. "All right, but I'm not telling you where I live. You may pick me up here tomorrow night at eight."
"Really?" Chris staggered, light-headed. He had no idea what he would do, but he would think of something. Jason was everything he'd hoped for and more. It was quick, but New York moved fast and who knew how long Jason would be available?
Pulling off his glove, Jason slung it at Chris. "Go away before I change my mind."
"Okay, I'm going. You won't regret it, I promise." Chris backed away, knocking over chairs as he went. He didn't want to take his eyes off Jason in case he never saw him again.
Jason laughed. "I regret it already, you klutz. Get out!"
Chris blew a kiss when the cold air hit his back.
Before the door closed, Chris saw Jason catch the kiss.
* * * *
Back at the model house, Chris was astonished at how interested his roommates were to help him out. He'd come home such a bundle of nerves and excitement. The other models, pleased to see him without the gloom, went out of their way to brainstorm and facilitate the perfect date.
His idea would take a lot of finagling, but his roommates were more than willing to help. He didn't have a lot of money. Though he considered tapping into his student loan funds, he thought of the accusations he'd thrown at Jason. Being irresponsible now seemed hypocritical.
Fortunately, his roommates had all the connections he needed to get his plans hammered out on a budget. Sebastian, either out of guilt or apology, handed Chris a phone, putting him on the line to someone who could make the date extraordinary.
* * * *
One of Chris's roommates, a barrel-chested Armani model named David, worked for a limousine service. He managed to wrangle a few minutes away from a paying client in order to drive Chris to pick up his date in style.
Chris stared out the window, hoping Jason would be waiting, and if he was, to catch the look on his face when the limo pulled up. They turned the corner slowly, the long car having trouble negotiating such small streets. But once they'd made it through the maze of traffic and narrow streets, Jason was in view.
Under the lamplight stood Jason, adjusting the long top of his golden hair. It was pushed back with a thick black band, curls spilling from the back of his head. He wore a fuzzy cream cashmere sweater that grazed his thighs. The collar gathered near his face in a cowl neck. He also had on a long vest made of peacock feathers. The feather collar stood up, tickling his chin. The bottom was also graced with peacock feathers that fluttered in the wind.
His blue jean-colored leggings were too tight to crease and treated with metallic paint, written over by a graffiti artist in bold yellow, lime green and orange. His customary stiletto boots were glossy black, with eggplant-colored legwarmers on top.
Jason noticed the limo and watched it curiously, shifting so his long strands of turquoise beads caught the light. He was so beautiful; Chris couldn't wait and rolled down the dark window. Jason brought his leather-gloved hand to his mouth.
"Chris! You can't afford this!"
Chris grinned. "What, do you think I'd take a sexy man like you on the subway?"
"Yeah, I kinda did."
Jason reached for the door, but Chris jumped out to help him into the car. "Those heels on the subway?" Chris laughed. "I don't think so."
Jason shot Chris an amused look and said, "A man after my own heart."
"Yes, that's what I'm after."
"And now we're in cheesy land." Jason stepped gracefully into the car and Chris squeezed in beside him.
"Not much has changed, then?"
Jason draped his arm around Chris. "I like cheese."
"I knew I should've gone with fondue." He squeezed in closer. The feathers tickled him, but he bit his lip and bore it.
"You are such a fucking dork. I don't know what I'm going to do with you."
Chris took Jason's hand and pulled up his glove so he could finger his name on Jason's wrist. Jason tensed but he didn't snatch his arm away. They fell quiet. Chris inspected it.
"I really didn't…I mean, I don't know what you see in me."
Jason relaxed his arm and sighed. "I don't know either. You seemed so earnest. You laughed with no sense of irony. Maybe I was high. I thought you were so pure, so untouched by the city."
"What do you think now?" Chris held his breath.
"I think maybe you were too untouched to know when someone was using you." Jason turned his arm so Chris couldn't see the tattoo and pulled his glove back up, then wove his fingers with Chris's. "And maybe I was suspicious you'd put one over on me on behalf of Sebastian."
The car stopped. They had arrived. Chris slipped out of the seat, opening the door for Jason. He leaned back in and waved his thanks to David.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" David laughed as if he’d told a funny joke.
Chris spared a smile.
"Where are we?"
Jason stood on the curb in midtown, staring up at the mixed-use townhouse. The cold air made him shiver, so Chris pulled off his long wool coat and draped it over Jason's shoulders for the few steps they took to the door.
Being well after hours, they had to buzz in. Chris kept his lips pressed tightly together. He didn't want to spoil the surprise, and he if he said anything he'd give himself away.
The foyer was typical of a converted home, with a side room and a sleek glass desk with the latest in Apple technology humming atop it. The glossy pine floor shone with impeccable warmth. Ahead, they confronted a stairway behind which sat a brushed steel kitche
n of minimal interest.
Jason paused and gave Chris a questioning look. Chris held out his hand to indicate he should go upstairs. There was a loft at the top awash in soft light and the sound of modern jazz. When they reached the top, Chris spotted two smiling women wearing black and sitting at a small break table. Both had bleached blonde hair and wore heavy eyeliner and foundation. On first glance, they were difficult to tell apart, but one was dressed more plainly and had her hair in a ponytail like she'd been doing more of the heavy lifting work -- indicating she was the assistant.
If Jason noticed them, he gave no indication. What he did notice were the racks of beautiful couture, the wall of shoes and bags in individual cubbies, and the gaudy estate jewelry on the table.
A mannequin wore a gorgeous one-of-a-kind vintage Dior dripping with luxurious ruffles in dark silk. The skirt ended in a classic fishtail style. For balance, the dress had puffy, layered sleeves that came down to graceful points. A huge black hat completed the look with black roses and a plume of feathers.
Jason gasped. He neared it but held his hands together as if it were a museum piece he wasn’t allowed to touch.
"My. God."
The ladies stood. The woman in charge rolled a rack closer. "I love a man who knows fashion. That vest, Custo Barcelona?"
Though Jason normally loved to brag about his couture, he gave an absent nod as he examined the intricate bustle on the back of the dress.
Chris put an arm around Jason's waist. "These are stylists. They had some gowns in for celebrities to try for the red carpet. They were kind enough to stay late so you could have a look up close, maybe try on some pieces."
"Try them on?" Jason placed his hand to his heart and breathed heavily.
"You know, I was going to say the Dior was off limits," said the stylist. "But I think…" She looked at the dress and then at Jason. He gasped in awe. "You are what this dress needs."
She gestured to the dress, and the ponytailed assistant started undoing the million fussy little buttons while Jason dropped to his knees in front of her.
Though Chris couldn't quite appreciate the magnitude of Jason's excitement over a dress, Jason's mood was contagious. Even Chris could appreciate the workmanship. The stylist patted Jason's head and then indicated a dressing area that Chris hadn't noticed before, and Jason scrambled to his feet like an overexcited puppy and disappeared behind the white velvet drapes.
It took at least half an hour for Jason to work into the dress. Then he fiddled with the hat. They must've changed his accessories a hundred times. Finally, his makeover was complete. They hadn't allowed him a mirror until they were finished, which wound Jason up to a fever pitch. When Jason stepped out, Chris saw him first. The bustle unfurled into a long train that appeared to float because of the silky drape.
He'd somehow managed to redo his makeup, opting for a light line around his eyes and a porcelain finish. A few curly tendrils spilled from the huge hat. The brim dipped dramatically in the front, and a short veil fluttered in front of his eyes. Chris rushed to Jason's side as he made his way to the mirror.
It was fortunate Chris had done so, because when Jason saw himself, his knees buckled. Chris caught him by the waist until he recovered. Then Jason looked at himself from every angle, twisting so he could see the train.
The stylist sat on the corner of her desk and flicked her fingers in a gesture to move. "Walk it for me."
Without missing a beat, Jason turned and killed it -- each stride fierce, his face a mask of concentration. He reached the stairs and posed three times and then whipped around. The train fluttered behind him as he walked back.
The three people at the end of his "catwalk" golf clapped. Jason broke character and squealed and clapped as he giddily bounced to the mirror again.
"This is the best day of my life."
Chris beamed with pride.
Jason gave the stylist and her assistant quick hugs and then turned around to Chris, whom he grabbed and bent over dramatically to smother with his warm, wet mouth. Chris blushed over kissing in front of strangers, but when Jason let him up, the stylists gave them another golf clap.
"As much as I hate to break this up," said the stylist, "my husband does expect me home at some point. I'm not as young as you boys." She winked. "I can't be up all night and beautiful in the morning."
"Oh yes, of course!" said Jason. Chris had never seen him so polite.
"We need to get to dinner. I've got a whole night planned." Chris rocked up to his toes.
The stylist winked. "I'm sure you do."
Jason quickly shimmied out of the dress and back into his own clothes with the speed only a model could. They said their thank yous and goodbyes before heading downstairs and back onto the street.
Before Chris could tell Jason where they were going for dinner, Jason had hailed a cab. He hopped in, dragging Chris with him.
When Jason gave the address of the coffee house where he worked, Chris worried this was the end of the date. He couldn't figure out where he'd gone wrong.
Then Jason pounced and pinned him to the seat.
"I'm going to show you where I live. And then I'm going to have my wicked way with you."
"So you're not angry?"
Grinding his hard cock against Chris's thigh, he asked, "Do I feel angry?"
The cab driver watched in the rearview mirror so persistently that Chris wanted to ask him to keep his eyes on the road. However, his mouth was otherwise engaged by Jason, who frotted Chris mercilessly, mouth-fucking him with his tongue. No one had ever consumed Chris like that, and he soon forgot the cabbie, the cab, or that they were moving.
In fact, by the time they arrived, the man had to reach back and shake them. Chris noted the meter registered at least fifteen minutes longer than the trip to midtown took. He didn't want to pay the extra amount for the pleasure of having a pervert watch them, but Jason pulled cash from a hidden stash in his pants and shoved it at the driver.
Still dazed from the kissing, Chris found himself on the curb looking up at the coffee shop. It was a twenty-four hour shop, so they walked right in and went directly to the back. They sneaked between the glass counter and antique dresser into a tiny, crude foyer. The walls were brick and the floor rough concrete. The backdoor was a dented dull metal with a sliding bolt. Metal stairways led to the second floor and cellar.
Jason took him downstairs. Halfway down, Jason turned and pushed up the trapdoor, shutting out the weak upstairs light. Chris heard a switch click, and a million white Christmas lights came on, framing the squat box of a room.
The walls and floor had once been the same as those above, but Jason -- or someone -- had treated them with a blue glossy tint speckled with white paint that formed constellations.
The bathroom consisted of a corrugated plastic tube with a showerhead, an industrial metal sink and a metal toilet. Jason had adorned the bathroom area with a Goodwill mirror and homemade room dividers cobbled together with old pipes and fabric scraps.
A mattress on the floor served as his bed, but Jason had made at least one more trip to the Ritz, as the duvet and million pillows looked very familiar. Chris eyed Jason, wondering how he'd managed to get all of those pillows out without arousing suspicion. He was a man of many talents.
There weren't any windows, but Jason made up for it with a collection of interesting modern art. Chris crossed the room to examine a modern graphic print of angular lilies in black and white.
"You would be amazed by what art students throw out. Some of them are really talented. I hate seeing good art go to waste."
Jason followed Chris as he examined his belongings. There were a few metal racks of clothes and a stack of shoeboxes tucked neatly under the stairs.
"This is amazing, Jason. Has to be the nicest basement I've ever seen."
Jason snickered. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."
"Amazing! I said your basement was amazing!" Chris turned and wrapped his arms around Jason. "Don't pick apar
t my words. I'm not very good at them."
"I got the feeling. I guess we'll have to move beyond words."
Jason leaned in for a kiss, but Chris swept him up and carried him to the bed. He set him down gently this time, not sure how cushioned a mattress on the floor would be.
Sitting up, Jason slipped out of his vest and pulled off his sweater. His turquoise beads rattled as they fell back on his chest.
Chris quickly did away with his own clothes, careful to leave his condom and tube of lubricant by the edge of the bed.
He helped Jason pull off his boots. Chris took great pleasure in kissing his toes again, nuzzling his face against the soft arch, dragging his tongue over the familiar ridges. Reaching for Jason's pants, Chris rolled them down along with his underpants, revealing his gorgeous cock. It twitched under his gaze, and Chris couldn't keep himself from licking Jason's shaft before getting the pants past his thighs.
Jason sighed and writhed under the touches, but his movements were tense. Chris paused to consider, then finished pulling off Jason's pants, leaving them both naked.
Chris picked Jason up again, this time laying him longwise on the bed and curled up next to him. Selecting a suitable pillow, Chris rested it under Jason's head and traced the down turned corners of his lips. "I'm sorry."
For an instant, Jason's eyes watered, but he blinked rapidly. "There's nothing to be sorry for."
Chris pressed soft kisses against his temple and down to his jaw. "It's my fault. What I did to you was horrible. Frankly, while it would frustrate me if you never wanted to have sex again, I do want to get to know you. I want to spend time with you."
Jason shrugged and turned onto his side, pressing his back to Chris's chest. "That's why you got me naked? To get to know me?"
Chris closed his eyes and buried his face against Jason's neck. The fine golden hairs poked him, as if they were upset with him as well. "You're beautiful naked. I'm sorry. You can put clothes on if you want to. I'm sorry. I got carried away."
Jason curled up. His shoulders shuddered. Sniffling, he said with a wobbly voice, "I got carried away, too."