by Talon p. s.
“That’s business, this is about emotions. Something I have no batting practice with. For all the worth Simeon had, our relationship had the emotional oomph of a dried out brick of clay. This man sends me on my ear with a simple brush of his hand and the burning desire in his eyes. He was an affair, how could I see anything but compulsive hazards there?”
“Maybe instead you failed to see the growth potential in a new concept. One you haven’t tried before. The highest gains are made in a playing field of high-risk margins. You taught us that.” Diesel chimed in hoping to make an analogy his friend would grasp. He understood when a man had already set the definition, how hard it is to break out of it. So perhaps this way, he could give the man a push. It was worth the try. Someone had the man’s heartstrings, and was dragging him out to sea, because neither was making the final connection. That was something Diesel knew himself. Though he knew exactly where Paris was and what he was doing, the distance between them was painful. A separation he planned to fix soon.
“I’ve grown very reserved over the years.” Maxum refuted with his poor excuse for his position.
Trenton turned in his seat, looking more directly at him, but gave a softer expression than one would ever expect out of a man who held the title of Dominus within the high end BDSM community. “No, just gun shy at a new starting line.”
Maxum sucked in a deep breath and let it out with a huff. He turned back to the bar and waved the bartender to bring a refill and watched as his glass was topped off from the bottle of Jerez. His thoughts wandered about as he held the glass up, just letting the dark nutty tones of the sherry, touched with seawater and white plum, seep into him a moment before drinking it down; far faster than one usually did with a Jerez that cost $75.00 a bottle. Then again, Trenton was right, he could afford it, and seventy-five bucks was nothing to him. Trenton knew him well enough to understand his tastes, not only for the high dollar brands, but knew he had a taste for the dark and uncommon flavors like the bottle of Daniel Bouju Cognac his gaze just spotted behind the bar and he was half hankering the idea to bottom it out before the night was over.
He dropped the glass down to the bar and turned glancing at the man. Outside of knowing his tastes, he couldn’t say they’d ever grown close, but he knew he could always trust in Trenton to speak a truth or nothing at all. Trenton didn’t beat around the bush or mince words, and he certainly seemed to have a global perspective on people. Though, that seemed rather irrelevant at this point now. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter any, now. I’ve fucked this one up and threw the race before I gave the track a trial run.”
If Trenton’s expression were any hint, Maxum would have said the man didn’t share his ideas of defeat. Farther, damned if the Dominus didn’t look like he already knew to whom Maxum was all bent out of shape over. He had this oddly amused cat that caught the canary look. Maxum shook off the notion. They might be in a small circle of social affairs, but Maxum dismissed it as an unlikely possibility. Trenton couldn’t possibly know his affair had been with Darko Laszkovi. Could he?
“Come on.” Diesel brushed away from the bar with a nod towards the crowd, “Time to mingle and work up the contributions.”
Maxum gave a reluctant nod, but not so much as Trenton’s was that it had him chuckling to himself, well that and the look Diesel was giving him like he would wrangle him out there if he had to. Likewise, well, you had to know Diesel Gentry to understand he was the kind of man who would do exactly that.
Trenton downed another shot, then lifted his little Slave from the bar, placing her on her feet to walk in front of him. His hand slipped under the long wavy trusses of light brown hair, claiming the back of her neck where it stayed for nearly the remainder of the night; a posture that told everyone— mine. Not that anyone had to be told. Anyone who knew who Trenton Leos also knew his life style and who the petite woman was in his life.
He had to admire them. They lived out a relationship the world didn’t understand and scrutiny came before witnessed understanding, yet it marred nothing between them. Trenton never held back how he lived or what he felt for Katianna. Something Maxum too had relished in his life. Being gay in the business world wasn’t always a welcomed candidate to do business with, but he stood by on both aspects of his life. Made men rich and was never secretive that a man slept in his bed.
—Or rather, he had wanted one there. Just one. Sadly, his understanding of who the one could be may have come too late.
Socializing at parties was always the sentient nightmare of Maxum’s job. He hated walking through them alone. It was the touching— that was the part he disliked the most. The singles-hunters always reaching out to touch him as if doing so would make him want to be with them. Aside from that, he could wander a crowd as if it were never there. However, going it alone he felt more vulnerable as if he wore a neon sign that screamed— I’m single come touch and take a chance. He loathed word getting out that he was now an available bachelor, just on that one thing alone. Luckily, Trenton and Diesel weren’t the type to announce it, not here and so far the touchy-feely encounters had been sporadically few. Save the red head that always grabbed his arm and pulled him to her, to mark his cheek with her richly, red lipstick. That particular cougar did so whether Simeon was on his arm or not. She just didn’t care. She was also one of his long time clients, apparently very good at her game of gold digging. So, he endured the one offense, but had never allowed her to cross the line beyond that.
The four of them waltzed through, stopping for small talk with a number of elitist, friends, celebs that lived in the area, social club members, even a few reps from the governors’ team came to support the event in place of the Governor himself. On top of the presence of many of New York’s finest were a few globetrotters along with prized possessions, no doubt purchased by means of Trenton’s Elysian Fields Slave auction. It was always the adoration in the submissive’s eyes that gave them away.
“Excuse me, I see someone I need to say hello to.” Diesel patted Maxum on the back and disappeared into the crowd. Maxum not interested in fairing the crowd alone stuck with Trenton and fell into a more relaxed and friendly conversation with Dane Masters and his beautiful brother, Vince Masters, tucked guardedly under his arm.
However, if Maxum’s emotions weren’t already out to sea in that conversation, the stormy waters had just become worse when he heard the familiar voice of none other than Simeon Correl, just on the other side of one of the buffet tables. “If you’ll excuse me.” He nodded his apologies then quickly ducked away before Sim could spot him.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Darko had just sequestered Sognac off to get drinks, while he could use another to settle the turmoil roiling in his gut all night; it was more just to have a moment’s reprieve from the man.
“So what is he?” Diesel asked with some inclining of teasing him. “Flavor of the night?”
Darko scrubbed over his chin a moment. It was almost laughable, if only he had been in the mood to laugh. He and Diesel talked often enough, Deez knew the man he brought wasn’t his type. “More like a spontaneous emotionally driven defiance and last minute bad planning filler.” Darko managed a light chuckle while his eyes drifted out across the crowd. He’d been doing it all night, looking— searching for a face that wasn’t there. It only made his nerves curl a few more times. At this rate, he would be able to launch a small jet across the salt flats test field for all the energy pinging in him. Where the fuck is Sognac with my beer? He wondered, now looking for the least likely man he wanted at his side.
“Oh Darko, I don’t know if you two have ever met—”
Darko turned returning his attention to Diesel and the person he was about to be introduced only to come face to face with—
“Maxum St. Laurents. Maxum this is a my friend Darko Laszkovi.”
If the earth had come to a screeching halt at that moment, Darko would surely have been thrown right off and into outer space for all the lack of anchoring, he felt j
ust then.
And that coil of energy was suddenly exploding inside— small bombs detonating in his gut, his head and his heart. Fuck! His head screamed.
What seemed like a frozen, silent eternity finally dropped and reality kicked in, he glanced around and— Maxum was flying solo. Where was June Cleaver?
“We— we’ve met.” Maxum stammered as did his hands. First frozen at his side then seemingly considering offering to shake hands, but that failed too and they dropped back down to remain at his side. There was a ripple of emotions over Maxum’s face that seemed to match what Darko felt, but gone too soon to know just which ones were winning out. Save the last lingering one of puzzlement, “What are you doing here?”
The question of suspicion hit Darko wrong, he was almost inclined to either ignore him and not answer, or say something rude, like pointing out that Diesel used the word friend, but he bit the retort back. He wouldn’t do that in front of his friends— or to Maxum for that matter. It wasn’t the place to stage a personal drama. “You remember—” he paused not sure of just how privately Maxum and Diesel knew each other and perhaps— well fuck, this was just getting harder. He wasn’t the type to hide behind smoke screens, but then he had been Maxum’s affair and realized what he was about to say would be incriminating and quickly rephrased himself. “My brother Pyotr recently adopted his lover’s sister as a daughter—”
“The one I met at your brother’s house. She was sick. ” Maxum’s comment dismissed any secrecy and his concern showed. It was a small comfort for Darko. Maxum was snapping his fingers, “Kimmi—” the snapping stopped and he pointed a finger as if pointing out the answer to his silent question, “Wasn’t her name Kimmi? She has leukemia? I’m sorry.” He surrendered some grief that may have also been to him as well as for Kimmi, some portion saying I’m sorry I should have known.
Darko was almost surprised that Maxum would risk outing himself, but it fazed him little. It was hard standing here next to him pretending to be little or say nothing at all of how they knew each other. He hated even more that he was still strongly attracted to the man.
“Yes. She is still sick.” Darko’s head motioned towards Diesel, “He’s her guardian angel. This gala is for others like her.”
Maxum suddenly stiffened up, right in front of him. He looked almost nervous like he was ready to bolt and Darko had to wonder why he would react so strongly to unless—
Diesel grew antsy as well, “Say Maxum,” his hand taking the man by the shoulder and pulling him along almost pushing him towards Darko, his eyes watching something else in the crowd of guests, “why don’t you take Darko out on the dance floor for a tune.”
“But I don’t know how—”
“Yeah, but Darko does and he loves to dance.” Next thing Darko knew, Diesel had practically strung he and Maxum up together and sent them rushing in another direction, while he took off in another direction. Even Maxum seemed to glance over his shoulder a moment. Darko bunched his brows up in a near glare at Maxum who now had him by the arm, intent on doing just what Diesel had instructed him to do. Maxum steered him more toward the center of the crowd then finally pulled him around to face him.
The Schiller tune wasn’t fast and grinding like the music that called to Darko at Club Pain, but not so slow it was like cowboy-slow dancing. Never the less, Maxum was suddenly two left feet, save for his arms that quickly took their place around his body as if it was the one thing in life Maxum needed in order to live.
Darko for a moment melted right into it, for the same misconception. He needed it.
He did what he could to lead the man into a moving tempo of simple footsteps, but he wasn’t doing so well himself as emotions bum-rushed him and he finally just surrendered his forehead to Maxum’s, closing his eyes while the two of them just rocked in place.
Darko felt himself leaning into the strong arms that held him, almost as if he needed them there to hold him up. He heard the low rumble of Maxum’s own surrender to the moment and he relaxed into him, feeling a warm brush of fingers up his spine. But, Maxum’s mind was someplace else. The grinding of gear evident.
“What has you so deep in thought?”
He felt Maxum shake his head stutteringly, then looked up at him, pained and troubled by something. Maxum’s hand came up to caress his temple, eyes wandering over his face and hair as if to— well Darko wasn’t sure really. “You’re not a rent boy. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I—” he shook his head again and his face clearly said he wasn’t happy about the words that fell from his mouth, “I wish I had treated you better, because you deserved better.” Their dancing came to a grinding halt and the room fell away until it was just the two of them and nothing else, “I wish I could have another chance to be better for you.”
Maxum’s deep tenored voice rolled across his skin, speeding up Darko’s heart rate. His breath drew in deep and felt heavy in his chest.
Schiller’s mood swimming lyrics filled the ballroom with words that seemed to talk just to them.
—I’ve been here all the time. I’ve been here all the time. As far as I know doing right. I’ve always waited for the moment that you would come walking through my door. —
Darko’s eyes filled with his presence. Maxum had always looked good, but tonight he was different. He still had the suit jacket that hid his masculine frame. Yet the hand died silk shirt underneath was thin enough, Darko was certain if he tried, he could taste the man through it and that alone had his mouth watering for a taste he knew he enjoyed. Fuck, the things this man made him feel. He felt the pull to lean in, kiss Maxum, and let him know he could have it—
“Mind if I cut in?” A rather agitated voice broke through the spell and they both snapped around to see Sognac standing there next to them and none too pleased.
Maxum’s expression collapsed and he took a step back, “Of course.” He surrendered Darko respectfully to the date he brought with him. Once more, the planet was slammed to a halt and Darko even felt the tilt from the centrifugal force in his chest as he watched Maxum in silent, emotional horror disappear back out to the mingling social crowd.
Fuck.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Maxum found his way back to Diesel, spotting him talking with Bob and Sandra. Both known for their outstanding involvement in community improvement and if there was a fundraiser gala being held, they were likely to be there. He caught words about the ear marked funds for the new wing at the cancer center when he stepped up, only to freeze in his footsteps to see Simeon chatting as always the usual social butterfly among them as if waiting for him to arrive. Bob was quickly drawing Maxum into the conversation while Sandra went on about the Guardian Angel’s Program getting a large boost of funds from tonight to help cover personal care expenses not covered by standard insurance and to help low income families. Maxum was about to make an escape for the bar when he turned and there was Darko with the intruder who had stolen the moment he was hoping to rediscover with the man.
Well fuck. Wasn’t this a thrill ride through Dante’s hell? He might as well drive his car into an oncoming train for all the wreckage he was feeling inside right now.
Someone behind him commented to Maxum directly about something, his brain clicking into autopilot, staying his feet and he answered without really paying attention to what he said or what the conversation was anymore. He just stared at Darko. Fuck, he wished he could erase all this, start all over again. Do it differently. Something— Anything. He just wanted to say he was sorry and beg Darko to let him have a chance to make things between them right.
The conversation about the treatment center shifted to names of people or children there, and something sank in. Something Darko had said— before the dance floor. And quite suddenly Maxum was interrupting them all, directing his question to Darko, “Back there you said this event was for others like her. Like Kimmi— but you didn’t say it would help her. Why?”
Darko kept silent even as everyone turned to look at them both. Sens
ing there was far more being said then what they heard. Diesel shook his head and took Maxum’s shoulder with a firm hand, “She signed her terminal declamation papers.”
“What does that mean?” Simeon asked, having held on to every word said between them. It annoyed Darko— no it pissed him off actually. He didn’t care if Simeon cared or not.
“It means Kimmi will die of Leukemia.” Darko fell laconic and stepped away. His New Year’s evening going from glum to dismantled in two-point-five-seconds. Had to be a world record for cursed luck. He didn’t even bother to see if Sognac was following him and kinda hoped he wasn’t. He just didn’t need to be consoled by someone whose compatibility felt like sand in his carburetors. He stopped at the bar and ordered a double shot of tequila, then turned leaning back on it; looking out to the man, he left standing with Diesel. His heart wondering if he troubled Maxum’s mind as much as Maxum St. Laurents troubled his. He almost didn’t notice when Trenton Leos stepped up.
“Do you want to be with him or not?”
Darko’s head nearly spun off at the question, and it took a long moment to form coherent words. “I— I’m not sure anymore. I mean, I wanted to, just not sure it’s worth being tossed away over and over.”
Trenton nodded to him in understanding.
“I mean what’s the point if he is still with his partner.”
“Maxum and Simeon are no longer together. Maxum came alone, only Simeon came alone as well knowing he would be here and is trying hard to hang onto his bragging rights.”
Darko leaned forward a bit at the revelation of news. “So why don’t you throw him out?”
“Wanting something you took for granted and now can’t have, isn’t a crime.” Trenton’s gaze moved from him out into the crowd of people, “Besides, it seems there will be more discovered and learned tonight by letting him stay.” Trenton let out a heavy sigh. One that was practically mirrored by Darko. Why the fuck did life, have to be so complicated?