2016 Top Ten Gay Romance

by Snyder, J. M. ; Black, Becky; Creech, T. A.

  Dolly barked in excitement.

  “Grabosky is tiptoeing down the sideline, trying to stay inbounds. Harris is closing in. Grabosky is on the five. He dives for the pylon! Touchdown! What a play! Hounds win! They’re another step closer to a division title and home field advantage in the playoffs!”

  Darrin screamed, “Yes!”

  He danced around the room. Dolly jumped off the couch and ran in circles, barking wildly. Darrin watched as his boyfriend was mobbed by his teammates. When Brad emerged from the pile, he did his victory dance. Darrin laughed. Brad had begged Darrin to teach him some sort of dance to use for touchdown celebrations. All the players did that, he’d explained. Darrin, a trained professional dancer, tried his best, but while Brad Grabosky might be a fantastic football player, as a dancer he sucked, big time.

  “Guess we’ll have to work on that a bit more,” Darrin said to Dolly, who cocked her head.

  When Brad was done with his victory performance, he took the ball and handed it to a little boy in the stands. The camera followed him as he trotted off the field. The female sideline reporter called him over. She began the interview by asking how he felt about scoring the winning touchdown.

  Darrin chuckled as Brad politely answered the question. Darrin knew what Brad really wanted to say. Darrin had heard him here at home many times, “What the fuck! Those dumb questions the airheaded reporters ask. Someday I’m gonna say, ‘How do I feel about what? Oh, you mean the touchdown? Well, Tracey, my balls itch so bad from this tight jockstrap and sweat right now that the only thing I can think of is givin’ ‘em a good scratch. Ya want to help me out with that?’”

  When the interview was done, Brad blew a kiss into the camera and jogged off.

  Darrin knew that kiss was meant for him. He blew the kiss back.

  “We won, Dolly. We won.” He pulled the little dog to him and hugged her. She responded by licking his nose.

  Switching off the TV, Darrin took a deep breath and let the adrenalin rush subside. As he walked to the bathroom for a shower, he shook his head. If anyone would have told him a year ago he’d be an avid football fan, he would have laughed his ass off. He’d cared very little about sports most of his life, channeling his substantial athletic abilities into dance. But that all changed when Brad Grabosky came into his life.

  * * * *

  One day, out of the blue, Darrin got an email notification. Someone had seen his profile on Bear Cave, a gay hookup site for bears looking for twinks and vice-versa. Whoever it was had left a message for him.

  Since Darrin’s dance career had taken off he had more than enough of a social life to keep him happy and satisfied. So he’d taken down the profiles he’d posted. Evidently he’d forgotten this one.

  He’d always hated meeting men that way. The encounters often turned out to be complete disasters: married men who had lied about their status, men who had grossly misrepresented their age and physical attributes, and those who were downright scary. Very few worked out. Darrin was glad to be done with that scene.

  At first he ignored the notice, but didn’t delete it from his inbox. Every once in a while he’d glance at it when he was checking his emails. He found himself getting curious. One day he decided, just for the hell of it, to check it out. What can it hurt? he asked himself. It’d been so long since he’d visited the site that he didn’t remember his username or password. He’d be able to get a new password emailed to him if he could recall his username.

  His username turned out to be his email address. That was simple enough. The password…not so much. He tried some of the passwords he’d probably have used. They usually had something to do with dance, like: tapdanceman or discofreak. He tried salsaaddict, as well. Deciding he would never hit on the right one, he requested help with his password and reset it to foxtrot2.

  Darrin signed in and went to his profile. A wave of bad memories washed over him. He looked at the pictures he’d posted of himself and the narrative he’d written. Pathetic and needy, he thought. His screen name made him shudder—bearcocksucker. How could he ever have pimped himself out this way? He almost decided to give up on the idea of seeing who had written to him, but the flashing of the message icon caught his eye. Before he stopped to think, he clicked on it.

  The message was from somebody whose screen name was SexStarvedBear88. Well, that was a turn off right there. However, somewhat intrigued, Darrin read what SexStarvedBear88 had to say.

  Saw your profile. Grrrr! Nice! Think we might have a good time together. If interested drop me a note. Charlie.

  Still wondering why he was going on with this, Darrin clicked on the link to SexStarvedBear88’s profile. He regretted it immediately. That was mainly because Darrin’s dick didn’t regret it at all. It reacted at once, moving quickly past a chubby to full hard on. Three pictures graced the page. The man was muscled, and hairy. His cock was cut, thick, and beautiful. His ass was full, round, and you could just tell it was firm and smooth to the touch—the kind of man Darrin had always dreamed of bedding. But the guy hadn’t posted a face pic. All his photos were cut off above the neck.

  Darrin’s profiles had always had the disclaimer: No face pic, no deal. Don’t bother to contact me.

  Guess this Charlie guy can’t read, he mused.

  On the strength of the suggestions Darrin’s hard cock was giving him, he ignored his no pic, no deal rule, and proceeded to look at the man’s stats.

  Age: 31. Height: 6’6”. Weight: 240#. Body type: Muscled/Hairy. Cock: cut, 7.5 inches. Status: Single. Looking for: NSA fun. The latter was underlined and in bold italics. He hadn’t written a narrative.

  Sounds too good to be true, Darrin thought. He’ll probably be short, out of shape, and married. Probably swiped these pictures off the net. Besides, it doesn’t make any difference. I’m not interested.

  Having been burned several times responding to guys like this, Darrin had no intention of following through. Once his dance career had taken off by securing jobs in a couple of Broadway shows and touring companies as an ensemble dancer, he’d had many opportunities for relationships with guys. Most of them were casual, some more serious. He’d matured past getting what he needed from sites like this. He logged out.

  However, for some reason, over the next few days, he kept revisiting the site. He didn’t seem to be able to keep himself from looking at SexStarvedBear88’s three hot pictures. He even downloaded them to his desktop. He read and reread the man’s profile. Finally, as if being guided by an unseen force, his finger moved to the ‘reply to message’ button and poked it.

  Shaking his head, and wondering why he was going on with this, Darrin wrote: Hi Charlie. Sorry for the delay in getting back to you. Grrrr yourself. Yeah, I’m interested. Got a face pic? Kind of a requirement of mine. Darrin.

  He ended the note with his email address and clicked ‘send.’ He sat for a minute still studying Charlie’s pictures and wondering what he was getting himself into.

  For the next few days, Darrin found he was eager to check his emails to see if Charlie had responded and sent him a picture. He figured he could just ignore any further communication with the guy if Charlie turned out to be a troll. Darrin would just ghost him. Darrin would disappear without a word, as was the protocol for sites like this. After a week nothing had appeared in his inbox. He shrugged it off and put Charlie out of his mind.

  Then one night, while riding home from rehearsal on the subway, Darrin checked his emails on his smartphone. There was a message notice from Bear Cave. He would wait until he got home to read it. For the rest of the trip an unbidden feeling of excitement stole over him.

  When Darrin got to his apartment, he hurriedly hung up his coat, headed straight for his computer, and logged on to Bear Cave. He clicked the message icon. The message was indeed from Charlie. Darrin let out a long, slow breath.

  Hey Darrin—Thanks for writing. Sorry it took so long to get back to you but I been out of town. Do you think you’d like to meet? I have one question thou
gh. Are you a sports fan? Charlie.

  Darrin noticed this Charlie guy had ignored his question of the face pic. That was not a good sign. And he hadn’t used the email address Darrin had given him. There were a couple of reasons why guys didn’t want their pic on the net or to use their personal email. One was they were butt ugly and didn’t want to take a chance on rejection. That didn’t make much difference to Darrin. He’d sometimes had great sex with guys whose picture, if hung on a screen door, would keep the flies out. However, in those cases it usually turned out that they had bodies that rivaled the Greek gods, as was the case with Charlie. He’d always believed in the motto: When you’re stoking the fire, you don’t check the clock on the mantel.

  The second reason was more important—and telling. Guys that didn’t want their face out there and didn’t want their email address known, were usually not out. Maybe they were married, or famous, or afraid of losing their jobs. At any rate Darrin thought this was silly. Nearly everyone used a code name on these sites. You wouldn’t have your profile pop up if someone Googled your screen name. The only people that might find and recognize you were on the site for the same reasons you were: to hook up with someone of like mind. No harm, no foul.

  And what was the sports fan thing all about? Why would it make a difference if he was or not? Darrin considered lying and saying he was a big fan, but why do that. He could easily be found out. About ten seconds of conversation would probably do it. He wasn’t even sure of the names of the city’s pro teams. He supposed there were some. This was NYC after all. But that, too, was a moot point. No pic, no deal. So that was that. However, in spite of all his reservations, Darrin found himself answering Charlie, saying: Sure. When would you like to meet? How about coffee? Then we can decide whether it’s pass or play. Darrin. Oh yeah, I’m not into sports.

  He didn’t mention a picture this time.

  * * * *

  Darrin smiled to himself as he remembered writing that note before he’d met Brad in person and discovering he was a football player.. “Pass or play,” he said quietly. He didn’t realize at the time he wrote that note of the double entendre implied by those words.

  Darrin walked toward the bathroom, stripping off his clothing as he went. Whenever the Hounds won, which they were doing frequently this season, Brad would come back to the apartment, testosterone charged. Today, probably, even more so. It had been a close game. Brad had been the hero of the day. He had more than made up for jumping the snap and drawing the penalty for a false start. Yes, Brad would be ready to demonstrate his manliness that night for sure. And Darrin wouldn’t mind one bit.

  Darrin knew Brad would be calling soon. He always did as soon as he could after a game. So Darrin took his phone with him and laid it on a shelf outside the shower. Then after waiting for the water to warm, he stepped under the spray. The excitement of Brad’s winning reception and touchdown, as well as the anticipation of his arrival, caused Darrin’s hormone levels to peak. This left him with a fully erect cock as he lathered up with his coconut and shay oil body wash and ran his hands over his body. He was thinking ahead to when it would be Brad’s hands caressing him.

  Darrin and Brad were total opposites anatomically. Brad was tall, Darrin short. Brad had dark, almost black hair, Darrin was a blond. Darrin was movie star handsome, Brad ruggedly good-looking. Brad was a hairy, muscular bear, Darrin a smooth, lightly muscled twink. The exceptions were his legs and butt. Darrin was a dancer. The hours of training had left him with powerfully built legs and a bubble butt that made many men drool, Brad among them.

  There was yet another way in which the two men were the antithesis of one another. Darrin was completely out, and made no bones about his sexual orientation. Brad was deeply closeted, a product of the football culture to which he belonged. Yet the oxymoronic pair were deeply in love.

  Darrin’s phone rang. He turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, reached for a towel, and then answered the phone.

  “Hi,” he said smiling and dripping soapy water all over the floor.

  “Hi, Honey,” came Brad’s deep baritone. Darrin’s smile deepened. Brad never called him honey when they were together. Calling him honey was code for, I’m surrounded by the team. Have to let them think I’m talking to my girlfriend. “Did you watch the game?”

  “You know I did. It was wonderful.”

  “Did you see that last play?”

  “Sure did, Brad. You were masterful.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart. Say, a bunch of the guys want to go out and celebrate. They want me to come cuz I scored the winning TD. They’re gonna pick up their wives and girlfriends. You want to come?”

  Although he wished the invitation were sincere, Darrin knew this was part of the game the two of them played to keep Brad’s secret. He just kept quiet.

  Brad soon continued. “Oh, okay, you have to be up early tomorrow? I understand. Maybe next time?” Another pause, then, “Okay fine. I’ll be home a bit late. Don’t wait up, but leave the light on for me, darlin’. Okay?” Pause. “You’re the best. Love you.” Brad blew a kiss into the phone.

  “Love you, too, stud,” Darrin said. “I’ll be waiting for you.” He blew a kiss back.

  They hung up. Darrin stepped back into the shower. He rinsed off the drying body wash, got out, and dried himself off.

  Sometime later, after taking Dolly for her evening walk, he watched the late news. He especially wanted to watch the sports segment. Darrin knew little about football. His interest had emerged merely as an expression of his relationship with Brad. Brad’s passion was football. Darrin’s was Brad. He knew when Brad got to the apartment the man would replay the game for him. Darrin wanted to be prepared to add to the conversation so that Brad would know how important he was in Darrin’s life.

  When the news ended, Darrin went to the bedroom, undressed, pulled open a drawer, and took out a condom and lube. These he placed on the bedside table and left the small lamp turned on. He helped Dolly up on to the bed. Darrin got into bed and snuggled down under the covers to wait for his man. Dolly circled, then nestled against him.

  A small part of him wished he could be out there celebrating with Brad and the team. However, most of him was content with the fact that he had a man in his life who truly loved him. And, for now, that was all that mattered.

  * * * *

  Darrin sat on the edge of the bed at a Red Roof Inn, waiting for Charlie to arrive. He’d just texted the man the room number using an anonymous texting app that Charlie insisted he use. Charlie had nixed Darrin’s suggestion of coffee first. Normally that, and the other secrecy issues, would have been another reason for Darrin to let the situation go. But something kept him saying yes to Charlie’s suggestions for getting together, even though they were out-of-bounds by Darrin’s rules.

  Darrin offered to have Charlie come to his apartment. Charlie asked where Darrin lived and what the entry was like. When Darrin had given the address and described the entry hall with a security guard, Brad had quickly suggested a motel instead, the kind where you entered your room right off the parking lot rather than through a lobby to floors with interior doors. He also requested Darrin leave the door of the room ajar so he didn’t have to knock and wait to be admitted.

  This guy had better be worth all this. He’s so super cautious and paranoid! I bet he’s married, Darrin thought as he waited.

  He checked the digital clock on the bedside table. Charlie was now twenty-three minutes late. Darrin would give him five more minutes, then that would be it. He’d given Charlie enough latitude already.

  Seven-thirty! “Time’s up, Charlie,” Darrin said aloud. He got up and headed for the door. As he put his hand on the knob, it opened. In walked a giant of a man. He had a kind smile, surrounded by a dark five o’clock shadow, and a deep voice that resonated in Darrin’s chest as he stumbled backward.

  “Sorry I’m late,” the man said, taking off his jacket and hanging it casually on a chair. Then he took off the dark glasses and ba
seball cap he wore, and laid them on the counter, revealing his handsome face.

  Darrin knew instantly he would have waited an eternity for this man.

  Before Darrin could recover and offer Charlie an absolving, ‘That’s okay,’ Charlie took a step forward, picked Darrin up and held him close. Darrin could feel the power in the man’s arms and chest. Darrin wrapped his arms and legs around Charlie and gazed into the man’s rugged face.

  Charlie smiled, leaned in, and gave Darrin a surprisingly gentle kiss. Since Charlie had wasted no time with howdy-do niceties, Darrin had expected a kiss that smacked of lust and domination. But this kiss was tender, sweet, and almost loving.

  Darrin returned the kiss and as he did, he felt affection for the big man bloom in his heart. If he’d not been a believer in love at first sight before, he was now.

  How could this be? Darrin didn’t know him at all. Darrin was pretty sure Charlie wasn’t his real name. His life outside this room was veiled in mystery. You couldn’t feel what Darrin was feeling for a stranger, let alone one who probably had lots of baggage attached. Yet here Darrin was, ready to offer Charlie his heart.

  At this point Charlie’s tongue brushed Darrin’s lips. Darrin parted his and Charlie’s tongue slipped inside. The tenderness continued as their tongues explored each other and the recesses of their mouths. Darrin trembled and Charlie tightened his embrace.

  The gentle giant carried Darrin to the bed. Charlie laid him down, and, still smiling, bent over him. He kissed Darrin softly again. Then he stood up. The smile never left his lips as he slowly began to undress.

  Darrin lay there watching as more and more of the man’s magnificent body was revealed. There was no rushing, just a slow unveiling. When Charlie stood naked before him, Darrin stifled a gasp and smiled appreciatively. He wanted to say something, but all usual clichéd statements he’d used to express his pleasure in someone’s body seemed inadequate. He just let his eyes roam over Charlie, hoping they reflected how he felt.

  Charlie leaned down and took Darrin’s hands in his. Charlie pulled Darrin to a standing position and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, then slid it off his shoulders. Letting the shirt drop to the floor, he laid Darrin down once more and bent to remove his shoes and socks. He raised one of Darrin’s feet to his mouth and kissed the sole. Darrin moaned.