“Is this the first time you’ve ever been with another man?”
“I had some encounters in boarding school, but nothing like this.”
“What did you think you were going through in school?”
“I didn’t give it much thought. A lot of shit went down after the lights went out. You cram several hundred horny boys in one room, and there’s bound to be some sort of mutual masturbation, so I didn’t dwell on it. I thought it was part of growing up.”
“I know it’s a common occurrence, but someone who’s straight by nature would resist the groping, preferring to relieve himself on his own. The fact that you allowed another boy or boys to touch you is significant.”
“You mean I’m really gay?” Cole looked stricken.
“It means you may be bisexual. It’s certainly not unheard of, and in these times there are fewer stigmas to admitting your homosexuality. Men who’ve hidden behind the label of bisexuality for years are starting to leave that behind and simply come out.”
“My father would die.”
“Your father will have to deal with it the same way he dealt with your blindness.”
“I don’t know if you’re right, John,” Cole rationalized. “I still have sex with Juliana. How could I be gay and still have sex with a woman?”
“Cole, it happens. You’re programmed to respond to her.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was part of your training, so you never thought anything of it, nor did you ever give yourself a chance to explore other options.”
“That’s true. But I can’t just throw it away because I’m interested in another man.”
“Are you? Do you lie in bed at night and think about him? Does the thought of making love to him keep you up in more ways than one?” John smiled a little, trying to make a joke.
Cole’s fork fell out of his hands and clattered onto his plate. “Jesus… how can I respond to that?”
“The hardest part is over, Cole. Coming right out and telling me what you’re feeling is the bravest thing you’ve done since I met you.”
“What do I do?” Cole begged, hoping John had the magic solution.
“You do what’s in your heart. Not what your father or Juliana or Sloan wants. You do what you want.”
“That’s irresponsible.”
“Cole, you are facing an incredible hurdle with the RP. Your entire life will be one challenge after another. The last thing you need is to throw in an unhappy marriage because it’s convenient or expected.”
“What about children? My father wants a grandchild. How can I give him that if I decide I’m queer?”
“First of all, you don’t get to decide if you’re gay or not.”
“Of course I do,” Cole protested. “I don’t have to give in to this impulse.”
“Is that what you think this is? A whim that you can ignore?”
“Isn’t it?”
“If that were the case, everyone would be the same. Don’t you think that it’s more powerful than that, Cole? The important thing is facing it and being comfortable with your decision.”
“What about children?”
Their main course was brought to the table, and they paused in deference to the waiter. As soon as he left them, John said, “Correct me if I’m wrong, Cole, but didn’t you tell me, on more than one occasion, that you didn’t want a child if it was going to carry the RP gene?”
“That’s true, but Juliana could be tested during the pregnancy. We’ve discussed it and our options.”
“What options? Abortion? Have you ever been in a situation where you had to experience an abortion?”
“No.”
“It’s not the solution, Cole. We’re not talking about a batch of cookies dumped into the garbage because they don’t taste good. I personally find the idea of deliberately ending a life because the child is flawed terribly tragic. To knowingly set out to create a human being with the intention of disposing of it, should the genetic testing prove positive, is criminal. It’s a decision you may regret for the rest of your life.”
“I had no idea you were so pro-life.”
“It’s much more than that, Cole. You’re asking for my opinion and I’m giving it.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t think you do, son. The child you speak of doesn’t even exist. You’re talking of a concept, a thought on how to make this all work and please everyone. Pretty much like trying to put a square peg in a round hole. Eventually, you’re going to run out of options and have to face the hard reality that some things aren’t meant to be.”
“I’m not sure I can.”
“Have you talked to Sloan about any of this?”
“Hell, no!”
“Why not? Didn’t you say you had sex with him? He’s certainly entitled to hearing your thoughts on the matter, or doesn’t he care?”
“I mentioned the idea of having a relationship between two men on the side, separate from the societal expectations of a traditional marriage and family, much like they had in ancient times, but it was met with anger and ridicule.”
“I’m sure it was. Cole, this is the twenty-first century. What you’re asking of Sloan is hypocrisy of the highest order. I can understand how he would be upset.”
“I don’t see why there’s a problem. Why can’t we have it all?”
“Because your all is not his all. He doesn’t want a wife and kids. He probably just wants you.”
“I don’t know if that’s necessarily true. He doesn’t seem too eager to pursue a relationship. In fact, I believe he’s starting to see someone else.”
“Does the thought of that bother you?” John challenged, hoping he’s get an honest answer.
Cole was embarrassed to admit to the flash of jealousy that rushed through him when he saw Sloan dancing with Max. He shrugged and remained silent. Fortunately, John was trained to pick up on silence.
“I think it does bother you.”
“Maybe a little.”
“Have you told Sloan about your eyes?”
“Not yet.”
“Why? And don’t give me that crap about him not caring, now more than ever, it doesn’t hold true. I’m sure he’d be very interested to know what’s going on with you.”
“I don’t want his pity!”
“For God’s sake, Cole. Why does it have to be pity? Can’t you just accept basic human kindness?”
“No! I think part of my attraction to him is because he doesn’t treat me like a potted fern. We scream and fight like normal people. We don’t tiptoe around each other.”
“And you think that will change if you were to tell him?”
“Of course. It changed Juliana and my parents. They make me feel like an invalid, whereas Sloan makes me feel like a man.”
John was silent for several seconds, concentrating on his food and enjoying the baccalà, before he could formulate a response. Finally, he put his fork down. “I think Sloan has stirred something in you that you’ve been ignoring for a long time. You owe it to yourself to explore this further, to see if he’s what you want. It’s the only way you can resolve this, Cole.”
“What about Juliana and our engagement?”
John shrugged his shoulders. “Have you ever seen the movie Runaway Bride?”
24
“FAT BOTTOMED Girls” could be heard all the way down the hall as Cole stepped off the elevator. He stuck his key in the slot and pushed the door open, only to be blasted by even louder music. It was coming from Sloan’s room, of course, and when he walked in he was immediately enveloped in a cloud of smoke.
“Jesus Christ, Sloan. I could get high just standing here.”
“You want a hit?” Sloan’s reply was completely unapologetic.
“Didn’t we discuss a smoking rule?”
“You said it didn’t apply to weed.”
“I didn’t think you planned on smoking an entire field at once.”
“Oh, lighten up, Cole. Have a smoke so yo
u can climb off your high horse.”
“You’re insufferable, Sloan.”
Sloan started to giggle and took another puff. He waited to see what Cole would do, relieved when he grabbed the joint from his hand and took a huge hit, inhaling deeply.
“Where have you been?” Sloan asked.
Cole was a bit surprised. Sloan had never seemed interested in his whereabouts before.
“I had lunch with a friend.”
“Emily wanted me to thank you again.”
“I like her.”
“Really?” Sloan’s smile widened, pleased by his comment.
“Yes. She’s very genuine and I think she’s a good friend to you.”
“She’s the best.”
They sat and smoked in silence, each man consumed with his thoughts. Cole made an attempt to say something but thought better of it. He wasn’t up for a fight right now, and the weed was working its magic, making him mellow. Unfortunately, it was also making him horny.
“You still angry?” he asked Sloan who was standing beside the window. He’d finally opened it a crack to let out some of the smoke.
“Who said I was angry?” Sloan replied, leaning against the wall. His eyes remained fixed on the window, looking out at the scene below.
Cole got up and tapped him on the shoulder, hoping to get a good look into Sloan’s eyes. He finally turned and stared at Cole. His eyes were as beautiful as ever, the flat gray reminiscent of the many doves in Washington Square. His eyelashes were outrageous, long and curly, framing the orbs that glared at him.
“You’ve been hostile since our conversation.”
“When you asked me to be your mistress?”
“Why do you have to make it sound so ugly?”
“Because you’ve made it ugly, Cole! I thought we shared something special that night.” Sloan’s eyes welled up with tears and his lips quivered a little as he spoke. Cole reached out and cupped his face.
“Don’t touch me,” Sloan said, stepping back. “I know I’m your first, and you may as well have been mine, since the only other person who ever fucked me is on the West Coast. That was only one time as well, but he and I never connected. I made the mistake of thinking it was different with you, but it’s really not, is it? I was an experiment, a chance to pretend you were some fucking Japanese warlord with your fuck boy!”
“No, it wasn’t like that!”
“I’m not going to be the dirty secret you take out of your closet and play with occasionally. I need more, Cole.”
“What do you expect me to do?”
“I don’t know, but it sure as hell isn’t what you offered. You want to be a family man? Do it! Have the wife and the kid and give it your best shot!” Sloan’s tears started to roll down his cheeks and he backhanded them angrily. “You’ve already made your decision, Cole. I don’t even know why we’re discussing this. Your engagement just confirmed it, so forget about me and our little interlude. Chalk it up as your dark fantasy coming true, but that’s all it will ever be, Cole. You and Juliana can laugh about it when you’re on your honeymoon,” Sloan said bitterly.
Cole spoke up when Sloan got ready to leave. “Where are you going?”
“Out, not that it’s any of your business.”
“With who?”
“What are you, the date Nazi?”
“So it’s a date?”
“Cole, fuck off!”
Cole reached out and held Sloan’s arm, “Please, don’t go.”
“Why?”
“I was hoping we could spend the evening together and talk.”
“Talk?” Is that the new word for fuck?” Sloan asked facetiously. He moved toward Cole and held his crotch. “You’re fucking hard because of the weed again, and you want me to stay and get you off, don’t you? Well, screw you, Shogun. Go find yourself another toy.”
Sloan snatched his phone off his desk, along with his keys. He took one last look at Cole and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
I HAD no idea where I was going, but I knew that if I stayed in that room for one more second, I’d have ended up kissing him, and it would be over. I’d hate myself in the morning again, even though it would probably be the most amazing makeup sex of this century. I didn’t want to keep getting on and off this bus ride leading nowhere. For once I was going to avoid the pain before it started.
I checked my phone log and was relieved to see I had saved Max’s phone number. I hit send, hoping he wasn’t too busy to see me. There were several questions I had about BDSM, and the only one who could answer them was Max. I found the whole idea of submission repugnant, but the other stuff, whips and bondage, intrigued me. I wanted to explore that side of myself but didn’t know if it was allowed without the corresponding groveling.
“Sloan?”
“Hey, Max. Is this a bad time?”
“No. Did you need anything?”
“Umm, I was wondering if we could go over some of the finer points of that stuff you gave me to read.”
“So you did read it.” Max’s voice shifted and purred. I could actually feel the energy through the phone and was starting to get aroused.
“Yeah. I’d like to learn more.”
“Would you be interested in going to the club with me tonight? I was just getting ready.”
“The club?”
“Yes. You’ll meet people who are into the scene. It will be much quicker than trying to explain it all. Seeing is believing, hmm?”
“I’m in blue jeans and a T-shirt, not really club material, but I don’t want to go back home and change.”
“Don’t worry about it. Meet me in front of your apartment building in about twenty minutes. I’ll be in a limo.”
Shit. “Okay.”
In a fucking limo? Everything about Max was first class, so I supposed this club he was taking me to would be out of this world. I walked to the nearest Starbucks to have a quick espresso, pass the time, and get my head on straight. I had to put all thoughts of Cole away and concentrate on Max. He was a much more viable option, although I had no idea what I was getting myself into. This was part of his appeal. The excitement of the unknown had always drawn me, and Max was a big question mark right now. His world was so far removed from mine; it tempted me like no other.
The honk of a horn snapped me out of my reverie. The limo was at the curb, and Max’s head popped through the window as soon as the glass slid down. “Need a ride, mister?”
I laughed and moved toward the car, getting in eagerly when the driver came around and opened the door. The inside was an ostentatious display of wealth: leather seats, custom-made bar with genuine wood trim, and the silver bucket filled with ice and a champagne bottle. Max reached for it and poured the bubbly into crystal flutes. The sound coming through the speakers lent itself to the dream-like quality of this date—if you could call it that. It felt like I was being whisked away on a magic carpet ride.
“Where are we going?”
“To a private club called Wilde.”
“Is it? Wild?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.”
“I’m in the car, aren’t I?”
He moved to pull me close and he kissed me. He tasted of champagne and I closed my eyes, letting myself go with it. I was determined to forget Cole this evening, to move on and rid myself of the inexplicable hold my roommate had on me. He had made his decision and I was not going to be a part of his life, so I needed to make one of my own. I wrapped my arms around Max’s neck and pressed my body against him. His hand went straight to my crotch, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “I thought I imagined this,” Max whispered, his voice thick with desire.
“Nope.”
He began to tug at my zipper. I looked at the driver, panicked that Max didn’t seem to care. He put his finger on my mouth and shook his head, reassuring me he knew what he was doing. I felt like such a dumbass when he hit the button on the console and a privacy glass went up between us and the front seat.
“May I?�
�� he asked, as if I’d be stupid enough to refuse one of his world-class blowjobs.
“Please.”
“Darling,” he said softly, “you say that word so well.”
By the time the car stopped in front of a four-story brick building, I’d been reduced to a quivering lump of flesh. Max had surpassed his previous efforts, and I watched as he washed down my come with the remnants of the champagne in his glass.
“That was a lovely appetizer, darling. Thank you,” he said, smiling like a Cheshire cat and licking at the cream dotting his lower lip.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Beauty. Now, come—let me introduce you to Wilde.”
He took my hand and we walked up the five steps. The door was opened instantly and I was transported into a Victorian world, complete with red velvet curtains, brocaded furnishings, and ornate woodwork. The walls had photos of Oscar Wilde, which explained the club’s name. I’d read about him but wasn’t familiar with the nuances of his life. Max would have to clue me in later.
“Good evening, Mr. Leavitte.”
“George,” Max said with a nod. “Who’s here tonight?”
“Everyone, sir. There’s a collaring about to start in room six.”
“Oh? Whose?”
“Mr. Beck and his boy, Eric.”
“Perfect. Sloan, you’ll get a chance to see something special after all.”
“Will you be having dinner, sir?”
“No, but we’ll have champagne. Bring us a bucket, will you? We’ll find a table and watch the festivities.”
“Yes, sir.”
George went one way, Max and I another. He still held me by the hand and didn’t let go, even when people greeted us along the way. Everyone seemed to know him, which was sort of cool. I’d never been one of the popular kids at school, usually hanging out with the pariahs, so it was a nice change to be with a man who apparently was a star in more ways than I could ever know.
We walked into a large room with a raised platform in the middle. There was a huge wooden cross in the shape of a letter X, and beside it was a small table with what appeared to be bottles of water and pieces of black leather. It was too far away for me to see all the details. There were tables and chairs scattered around the platform, which were all occupied by men in different attire. Some were in suits while others were dressed casually. A few were in severe leather that creaked when they moved. Most of the gentlemen were Max’s age or older, and every one of them had a much younger man by their side, either standing by their chairs or kneeling on the floor.
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