Hi readers! Thanks for joining me in a story exploring the complexity of gay relationships. Before getting to the action, I just wanna say one thing:
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© 2013 ChicosTodos. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
If you are a minor, or if it is illegal for you to read material containing sexual activity between male adults, please refrain from reading any further.
NOTE: this story is a sequel to "Roberto the Mechanic Stud", which can also be found on Nifty under Gay / Adult Friends and Gay / Interracial.
Danny Giroux-Yeung was finally home.
Well, back at his boyfriend Roberto's home. But to Danny, it felt like his home too.
The slim, short 22 year-old entered the empty one-bedroom apartment and flopped down on the black couch in his business casual attire. It'd been a long, numbing day at his new copywriting job, his first 9-to-5 gig straight after college. The "real world" was so very different from the academic life: corporate jargon, endless meetings about things that went over his head, people politics...it was his second week at work, and he wondered how people had the energy to do this for years.
Danny unhooked the messenger bag from his shoulder, dropped it on the floor, and leaned back against the enveloping couch with a sigh. Looking around the cluttered, barely decorated flat with a big home theatre system and countless pieces of workout gear, he really did wish he shared this home with Roberto.
Though he was tired, he wasn't too tired to smile, to know that he was happy, and lucky. The fact that Roberto Silva, the mechanic stud, was officially, truly his boyfriend was more than reason enough to smile.
For long, eventful months, the two of them had danced around their feelings for one another, sometimes like the first couple on the dancefloor, other times like moths to searing flame. Attraction, betrayal, reconciliation: they'd been through it all , and they found their way back together, happy ending fulfilled.
Except, of course, life went on, and the reality of beginning a monogamous romantic relationship settled in. Roberto, the 31 year-old head technician and co-owner of a booming local auto shop, had never been monogamous before. Meanwhile, Danny had a boyfriend once, but he hadn't been truly in love like he was now with the mechanic. They were both new at this, at the expectations, boundaries, and challenges that came with being with the person you love.
And tonight, they were about to take another giant step. Roberto was getting off work early so they can go have dinner with Danny's parents. It was an important step, and a stressful one for both of them.
Right from the start, way before Danny and Roberto realized what they were getting into, way before they told anyone they were dating, the younger man's mother shrewdly figured it all out herself and banned her son from seeing the mechanic. While Roberto's six foot three height, impeccably-sculpted figure, and deep-set eyes earned him a plethora of swooning female clients, Ms. Yeung only saw trouble for his son.
Tonight, after months of sneaking out late at night, and sleepover alibis with Danny's best friend Richie. Danny was finally going to introduce Roberto as his boyfriend to his parents. Over the phone last week, after 30 minutes of tense, careful exchanges, Danny either convinced his mother to agree to the meeting, or Ms. Yeung figured it was best to know as much about the enemy as possible.
As far as the new couple knew, all hell could break loose tonight.
"Honey, I'm home!" Roberto announced as he opened the front door.
Danny laughed and got up to greet his boyfriend, who'd (disappointingly) already changed out of his coveralls into regular jeans and tee. He wondered if Roberto was just joking, or half-joking, or if, like himself, he woke up every day wishing they were right beside each other.
"How was your day?" Danny asked after standing on tiptoe to give Roberto a smooch. The hardworking mechanic dropped his black tool bag and kissed back. He smelled like car grease and paint, as usual. It wasn't the most arousing scent, but Danny was getting used to it. Especially if Roberto was in his navy coveralls.
"Good. It went by quick. Nice to beat traffic for once." He wrapped his arms around Danny's trim waist, rubbing his beard on his boyfriend's neck. The younger man sighed and hugged Roberto back. "Not looking forward to opening tomorrow though," the mechanic groaned.
"Sorry..." Danny knew his boyfriend would have to do an extra-long day the next day, to make up for the extra-long day that Fred, Roberto's business partner and office manager, pulled today. Secretly, he was planning a surprise to brighten up Roberto's long hours at work.
"It's okay. We gotta do this..." The mechanic gave his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek, then starting planting more kisses in a line towards Danny's mouth. "...gotta get it over with."
The younger man chuckled, feeling the same way. His boyfriend's hands started heading south. "You gonna work out before work still? You can work out at home...you haven't tried those blocks yet."
"I might wanna sleep in...after the dinner tonight." The older man slid his padded palms up under Danny's shirt. He loved running his hand possessively all over his lover's slender, supple body. The younger man breathed in deep.
"I hope we survive..." Danny weakly tried to stop his boyfriend's fingers as they circled his hardening nipples.
"Roberto...go shower..."
"Relax. We have an hour..." he said, pressing his lips to Danny's and pushing his tongue into his lover's mouth. The younger man moaned in pleasure and enjoyed the kiss for a bit, then broke away.
"We gotta cook still and I don't wanna be late..." he whined, wrinkling his forehead while looking up at Roberto with gleaming green eyes. Roberto loved staring at them, especially when Danny wasn't looking.
"You're always late. Didn't you say your mom is too?" Roberto teased with an evil glint in his eyes. Through Danny's grey slacks, he squeezed his lover's bubble butt; it was another favourite attraction of his. The young man squirmed.
"Hey! Don't push it with my mom," he warned, swatting the mechanic's horny hands away.
"I know how to handle women," he retorted, stripping off his faded tee. Danny had seen his boyfriend's statuesque musculature countless times before, but he was starting to think he'd never get over how goddamn hot Roberto was: his wide, sculpted chest, his thick shoulders, his big, rippling arms, and his ridged eight-pack and obliques. Roberto knew the effect his enviable physique had on everyone; the wide-eyed adulation he got every time from Danny never got old.
"Yeah, but she's my mom. And you know my mom." The younger man nodded with raised eyebrows at Roberto. They both knew she was not the one to trifle with. The mechanic also raised his eyebrows, then pressed his chest against Danny's and craned his head to suck on his lover's neck. Danny whimpered and ran his hands across his boyfriend's tanned, sinewy back.
"Yeah, but this time I have Bacalhau à Brás," Roberto responded, moving up to bite the younger man's earlobe. He'd heard that Ms. Yeung was a food lover and loved to cook, much like Roberto (though he rarely ate much of anything high in sugar, salt, or fat). By preparing one of the authentic Portuguese dishes he'd mastered from his mother, serving it, and talking about the joy of cooking, the mechanic hoped he had a shot at winning over Danny's mom.
"Umm...now I'm hungry," Danny moaned, sure that the codfish would be delicious. Roberto loved to try new recipes, and Danny loved to indulge in his man's considerable culinary skills whenever he came over.
"You're hungry, huh?" Roberto's grin was wide. He pressed his obscene erection against Danny's warm crotch.
"Berto..." Blushing, he pressed his hands against the mechanic's hairy chest and tried pushing him away, even though he was already well aroused.
"You know playing hard-to-get turns me on more, right?" Roberto asked, clasping his hands on Danny's and guiding them down his fur-lined abs.
"Go take a shower, NOW. It's an order," he commanded, freeing his hands to slap the mechanic's hard buttocks. Then he turned Roberto's half-naked body towards the bathroom. "See if that turns you on."
"Baby..." Roberto pouted. He wanted to sneak in a quickie, to relieve the anxiety he'd been sitting on all day while thinking about the dinner.
"Hurry up! I'm serious; I don't want to tick off my mom!" he exclaimed, giving his lover a push on the back, then pointed towards the bathroom. Roberto started walking, then looked back with a sad puppy face, which made Danny burst out laughing. He didn't take the bait though, and the mechanic shuffled away with his head down.
A few minutes later, Danny was in the kitchen cutting up potatoes and onions for the Bacalhau à Brás when he heard his man turn on the shower. Suddenly, there was a loud banging sound from the bathroom, followed shortly by a rude word from Roberto. The young man dropped his knife and dashed down the short hallway.
"Roberto?! Are you all right??" Danny asked worriedly, flinging open the bathroom door. Behind the green, opaque shower curtain, there didn't seem to be any movement. only water spraying from the showerhead.
He whipped the plastic drape aside. Then he saw the mechanic's classic evil grin, followed by big arms hoisting him into the shower, work clothes and all.
"You asshole! You..." Roberto pinned his lover against the cold, wet wall and smothered Danny with a hungry, sloppy kiss. His hands were busy undoing the buttons on the younger man's soaking blue dress shirt.
"Gotcha," the mechanic exclaimed as he broke the kiss, flinging the open shirt apart.
"You're ruining my work clothes, doofus," Danny groaned. He sighed, then went ahead and started undoing his wet slacks.
"I'll buy you new ones." Roberto pressed his hands against the wall and hunkered over his five foot five boyfriend. When Danny finished stripping off his soaked clothes and tight whitey, the mechanic gave his lover his best bedroom gaze. Warm water coursed through the thick black patches on hair on his chest and armpits, running along his bearded jaw, dripping down his square chin. "Your man wants some attention."
"Next time, you're gonna cry wolf and I won't save you," Danny said dryly, sliding his arms up and around his lover's delicious arms and pecs.
"Oh yes you will. You fall for it every time."
The younger man dropped his hands and pushed Roberto away. "I'm going back to the potatoes," he said, getting out of the tub.
"Aw, seriously, Danny? Come on..."
Without warning, the younger man turned back around and slammed the mechanic back against the shower wall, hard. Then he went down on his knees and engulfed the half-hard dick hanging between Roberto's thick legs.
"Aw shit...oh yeah..."
The younger man pulled off Roberto's stiffening prick and looked up at the mechanic. "You piss me off and I'll bite your dick off," he threatened, narrowing his eyes. Then he took the cock back into his mouth and worked the glans with his tongue.
"Nah, you like it too much," his man replied, smoothing Danny's brown hair back undering the shower spray. "You like sucking it too much...OW!"
Danny did bite after all.
"That's what you get for messing with me, " he said after, shooting Roberto a smug look. The older man raised his arms and flattened them against the shower wall.
"All right, you got me. What do you want?"
"Respect. And..." Danny began lapping at the mechanic's droopy balls, "Can you stop...tricking me...into sex?"
"Sorry baby, I was just...I wanted to relieve some pressure...for tonight..." Roberto replied, pushing his pelvis forward, trying to get his boyfriend to take his dick again.
"I know. I'm nervous too, Berto..." Danny's mouth kissed its way back to the stiff shaft, tenderly caressing the veiny, slightly bent stalk with his lips. With a swift flick of the tongue and a twist of the head, the younger man's mouth was back on Roberto's cock, enveloping the hard length down his hungry throat.
The mechanic cried out in pleasure, closing his eyes. He held Danny's head in both hands and guided it gently up and down his engorged member.
Danny gave his mechanic stud a skilled blowjob under the shower, taking all nine inches past his gag reflex and coating it with sloppy saliva, then pulling back and circling his tongue all around the shaft and glans. Roberto cradled his boyfriend's head from above as he softly pumped his pelvis back and forth.
Then, as Danny's hands moved up the mechanic's tight abs, Roberto clutched his lover's fingers and guided his hands in lazy circles all around his obliques, chest, and ass. Danny moaned and deep throated harder; Roberto cursed and threw his head back.
There, in the warm, steamy shower, with the love of his life pleasuring him immeasurably, Roberto knew Danny was worth it all: the long hours, the hard workouts, facing Danny's parents, giving up the single life. At the end of the day, he just wanted to make Danny happy.
"Ready to come up, baby?" Roberto asked, giving Danny's hands a squeeze. He was gradually getting closer to the edge. The younger man gave one last, hard suck, then popped off the dick and smiled up at Roberto.
"Umm hmm," Danny replied, standing up. They kissed, sucking on each other's tongue, turning their heads to taste more of each other. Their hands massaged every muscle they found, rubbing and grasping water-slicked skin passionately as they pressed their bodies against each other.
Danny knew they were going to be late. But he didn't care anymore. Plus, since the mechanic seemed so confident about meeting his parents, he decided he would blame it all on Roberto.
Finally, the younger man broke the kiss. "Suck me, Berto?" he asked, drawing the mechanic's hands to his aroused genitals.
"Of course, baby," Roberto answered. He sat down in the bathtub and swallowed Danny's thick five-incher in one gulp.
"Ah yeah!" As much as the younger man loved wrapping his lips around the mechanic's big member, he loved getting sucked off by his man just as much, if not more. Roberto had so many tricks and moves down there, and they all pushed Danny's button. "Oh Berto, that's so good...omigod!" he cried as he felt his lover's tongue flicking all over the penis tip and crown.
"You like that, baby?" the mechanic asked quickly before diving back in. He sucked hard around Danny's bulbous cockhead, then went deep and milked the dick with his throat muscles, repeating the routine enthusiastically. His young lover cried out and dug his fingers in Roberto's thick, black hair, overtaken by the sweet aching.
After a while, the mechanic pulled off and spat on the younger man's hard shaft. He gave Danny twisting strokes, while his head went underneath and sucked on the tightening, almost hairless balls.
"You're so good, Berto...you're the best..." Danny whimpered.
"Damn right," Roberto muttered, running his tongue along the underside of the dick, then opened wide and devoured the entire prick to the hilt again. Danny yelled. The mechanic grabbed his lover's tender buttocks and pulled his pelvis towards him, hard, driving the fully-erect dick as far down his gullet as he could.
"Oh fuck baby fuck me!" the younger man wailed. Precum was leaking steadily from Danny's piss slit, bitter and slightly sweet. Roberto lapped it up eagerly. "Berto, oh fuck you're gonna make me cum..."
The older man pulled off the cock. "Not yet!" he exclaimed. He looked up at Danny and pointed towards the waterproof lube on the showerhead rack.
His younger lover turned around to grab the bottle, which gave Roberto the perfect opportunity to spread those pert, dripping ass cheeks and dive right into the anus.
"OH BABY! Ahh!!" Danny dropped the lube; he fumbled and pressed his palms to the wall as his man pillaged his asshole, always so hungry and needy for it. The mechanic reached around to envelop Danny's dick in his rough, wet palm. "Oh god, Berto, don't! I'll cum."
"Don't do that. I gotta fuck the cum outta you," Roberto muttered, grabbing the lube from the bottom of the tub and opening it.
"Quickly..." Danny whined. "...I don't wanna be too late..." He jumped when he felt a finger coated with cold silicone gel slide into his rectum.
"Don't worry, baby, I'll handle it," Roberto reassured, working the lube deeper into his lover. He gave a quick bite and slap on Danny's buttocks, then slid in another slippery finger. The younger man groaned and pushed back.
"Your ass is so sexy under the water, baby," he sighed, biting the cheeks again.
"Y'know I try to keep it tight for you," Danny said in a low voice, clenching his ass a few times.
"I know," his lover replied. He scissored two fingers deep inside. "I feel it every time. You're so tight still."
"I love you, Berto. I just wanna make you happy."
The mechanic stopped his fingers. He knelt forward, over Danny's bent-over body, the warm water splashing on his broad, swarthy back. With his free hand, Roberto gently turned his lover's head towards him. Then, he gave a soft, tender kiss.
Their lips were sealed for several moments, tongues grazing each other's teeth and mouth. Breaking the long kiss, Roberto backed away and looked deep into the younger man's marvellous green eyes. "I love you so much, baby," he said.
Danny smiled and blushed. A shiver escaped from his slim, pale figure. "I'm getting cold," he said quietly.
"Let's heat things up then," Roberto replied with a grin. He reached up and aimed the shower spray onto Danny's back, then crawled behind his boyfriend.
"Ready, baby?"
"Um hmm. Berto?" He looked back. "I want it gentle, please?"
His lover responded with a warm smile and soft kneading on his bum.
Danny turned back around. He felt the mechanic's cockhead push in, forcing itself against his sphincter. With a grunt it penetrated him, and kept going deeper, heat and friction rushing up his rectum. The young bottom exhaled and threw his head back, his hardy lover slowly but surely forging in.
"You ok, baby?" Roberto asked, halfway and counting inside of Danny.
"Um hmm," Danny groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted to take it all right away, for Roberto.
"You're so fucking tight..." His girthy shaft continued sliding into Danny's asshole.
"Yeah, Berto...gimme all of it..." The younger man stopped himself from clenching, instead willing himself to push out and open up, take all nine inches that his boyfriend had to offer.
A few moments later, Roberto stopped.
"What's wrong?" Danny asked
"You did it. You took me all in one go." The mechanic ran his rough hands up and down Danny's sides.
Water splattered and coursed on the young man's smooth, porcelain back, drawing cascading ripples down his shoulders and ribs. Roberto glided his hands through the splashing clear liquid, savouring his lover's body. He rested his hands on Danny's shoulders and began thrusting shallowly deep inside his lover's rectum.
"Gently, Berto," Danny said quietly.
"I am," Roberto responded.
"I wanna kiss you," his lover whined lightly. The mechanic wrapped his arms under Danny and lifted his torso up, pressing his back against his own brawny chest. Danny turned around and thrusted his tongue inside Roberto's mouth. Once in position, the mechanic resumed fucking.
"Berto..." Danny mumbled as his older lover relished in thrusting in and out slowly, at different angles. Roberto broke the kiss and bit down on the young man's neck.
"Ahh!" Danny yelled, feeling helpless. His lover sucked on his neck, while his big hands swooped down to his dick and began stroking it to the rhythm of his fucking.
"Take me, Berto...oh god take me!"
"You're making me so hot, Danny..." the mechanic moaned, lengthening his thrusts.
"Take my ass!" Danny wailed, pushing back hard against Roberto.
"Fuck yeah!" The mechanic grabbed Danny's hands and pinned them against the young man's hips. Then he pulled his cock out to the tip and began slam-fucking his young bottom.
Danny screamed in ecstasy, getting off on Roberto's massive, raiding cock, turned on from feeling his hands trapped beneath the mechanic's. Water rained down on his face; he closed his eyes and threw his head to the side as his body rocked up and down.
"Yeah, that's right, take my cock! Take it good!" the mechanic growled, giving Danny a ruthless pounding. He wouldn't last for very much longer, fucking his boyfriend's sweet hole this way, but he was enjoying the ride too much to stop.
"Berto! BERTO!!"
"You like that cock, huh?"
"Oh god yes fuck me with it! Oh god yes make me yours!"
"Aw yeah that's my ass!" He slapped Danny's bouncing cheeks. "My ass to fuck!"
They continued fucking vigourously, exchanging naughty, possessive exclamations, bodies slapping wetly.
After several minutes, Roberto's knees started to hurt from kneeling on the bathtub. He grabbed Danny and hoisted both of them down, to sit on the tub. Danny was now on top, sitting like a reverse cowboy.
"Fuck my cock, Danny. Show me how much you want that cum," the mechanic demanded, before smothering his lover with a kiss.
Danny whimpered and sat up. He pressed his hands on Roberto's meaty thighs, lifted his body up and away, then smacked his ass back down around the mechanic's prick. They both cried in pleasure.
The young bottom rode on the mechanic's big hard dick energetically. Roberto held onto Danny's waist and savoured his boyfriend's flexing hole as it sheathed up and down tirelessly around his thick shaft.
"Berto...oh Berto..." Danny felt pressure building around his prostate.
"You gonna cum? Yeah??"
"I'm getting close..." Roberto's hands scooted to Danny's dick and scrotum and began stroking furiously. "Oh Berto!"
"Cum for me, baby, cum!"
"OH!!" A creamy geyser flew from Danny's cock and splattered on the shower wall, followed by a second shot. The young man wailed uncontrollably, slowing down on his gyration as he continued ejaculating, but Roberto grabbed his waist and kept impaling him on his dick hard and fast.
Danny's voice broke into a squeak. "Berto...AAHH!!"
"Yeah, cum for me!" Roberto yelled, right at the edge of climax.
"Stop, Berto, stop!" Danny begged, pleasure turning into pain. The mechanic roared and stood up, still inside his lover, forcing Danny onto his feet, with his back bent over and his hands against the wall. Just as Roberto pulled out of Danny's ass, the first blast of cum erupted, firing long and far. It landed in a streak across his lover's heaving back, the globs scattering under the shower spray.
"Aw fuck!" The mechanic jerked himself off, thick ropes of jizz flying from his red, fat cockhead onto Danny's wet skin. Semen splashed and trickled down the young man's back and hips under the falling water.
Danny was still shaky from his anal orgasm, but he faintly felt hot sprinkles on his back. He definitely felt Roberto's half-hard penis as it smacked on his bum a few times, then re-penetrated his loosened sphincter. It made Danny sigh in numb agony.
His older lover slid himself right up to the hilt, the shaft slick with jizz and lube. "Aw Danny...aw fuck..." he moaned.
Deep, short thrusts, tingly from the afterglow, Roberto savoured his lover's ass again. He saw a glob of Danny's semen on the shower wall, slowly trickling down. With his hands pressed against the tiles, he leaned forward and licked up his lover's cum.
As Roberto tasted the jizz, Danny's clenching muscles milked the last dribbles of semen from his dick in spastic fits.
After a while Roberto asked, "Had enough of my cock?", as he tried to extract himself from Danny's vise-like anal grip.
"Had enough of my ass?" Danny retorted, rectally squeezing the exhausted dick. Roberto moaned.
"Your ass is just as nasty as your mouth," the mechanic muttered, bent over and wincing from the hypersensitivity.
"Let me clean your cock," Danny demanded, loosening his grip. The mechanic pulled himself out slowly, holding his breath.
"We're gonna be late..." he began, but to no avail. His lover turned around, got on his knees, and wrapped his sucking mouth around Roberto's spent dick in a split second.
"Aw fuck!" Roberto threw his head back.
An hour later, after rushing through the cooking, the dressing, and the drive to the suburbs, they arrived at dinner. They were 30 minutes late.
Surprisingly, Ms. Yeung was all smiles and courtesy as she greeted and welcomed the pair at the door. As she stepped aside to let them in, Roberto looked back at Danny with a smug grin, convinced that his suave ways and homemade dish were working like a charm. Danny raised his eyebrows, not yet ready to let his guard down, and hugged his French dad, the calm, rational one of the family. They headed to the dining room, where three large plates of authentic Chinese cuisine, fresh from the kitchen, sat waiting to be devoured.
Danny's parents were impressed with Roberto's Bacalhau à Brás, finishing the dish. The mechanic and Ms. Yeung soon launched into an enthusiastic foodie talk, while Danny and his dad chuckled and ate quietly.
"Roberto, come, let me show you this recipe. Danny loves it," Ms. Yeung said, getting up. "Have you ever cooked with chives?" she asked, grabbing one of her recipe binders.
"Not yet, but I'll sure learn," Roberto answered, grinning at his boyfriend.
"It's scrambled egg with chives. It's somewhat similar to your dish...how do you say it again?" Danny's mom tried to follow Roberto's Portuguese pronunciation. "Yes, that. So, Danny likes a bit of meat, so I add some BBQ pork, just pieces..." The two of them side by side, a petite but commanding middle-aged lady and a towering, smiling mechanic, made an amusing composition to Danny's eyes.
"...that sounds delicious. And I know Danny likes meat, so..." Roberto turned around and smirked naughtily at his boy.
The rest of the dinner went by just as pleasantly. Danny's dad talked shop with Roberto, indirectly inquiring about the numbers at the garage, impressed at the growing business the mechanic and his partner Fred managed since opening the shop a year ago. Meanwhile, Ms. Yeung and Danny started clearing the table and washing the dishes.
Soon after, Roberto got ready to go back home. Of course he wanted Danny to come home with him, but Danny insisted he stay at his parents'. He didn't want to push their apparent good luck too far.
"I'm just going to walk him to the car," Danny said to his mom. He wanted a kiss goodnight, then immediately regretted his decision: his mom would probably be watching from a side window. He followed Roberto out the front door.
When they got to the mechanic's bright red, customized Mitsubishi Lancer, Roberto took Danny's hands and wrapped them around his waist.
"That went well."
"Yeah..." They kissed. "...I can't believe it."
"Told ya I'd handle it," Roberto bragged.
"Or maybe mom decided his son's happiness is more important and she had mercy on us." Danny hoped that was true.
"Hey, she liked my codfish. Your dad too." the mechanic jabbed.
"Yes they did, yes they did..." Danny conceded, kissing his boyfriend. "Your cooking skills save lives."
"Mock me some more and nobody's cooking you an egg omelette with chives..." Roberto threatened jokingly, opening the driver's door. "...and carrots and peas and barbecued pork."
Danny laughed and leaned into the open windowsill. "You're the best..." A quick peck on the mechanic's lips. "...and you know it."
"I do know it. You better too," Roberto quipped, starting the car. Danny rolled his eyes and slapped his boyfriend's furry, sinewy forearms.
"Call me when you get home."
"I'll call you when I'm in my jockstrap," the mechanic replied with a devilish glint in his eyes, shifting the Lancer into reverse. His young lover squealed and waved as Roberto backed out of the driveway and sped off.
When Danny stepped back into the house, his dad was watching the evening news in French. Walking to the kitchen, he saw his mom finishing up packing the men's lunches for the next day.
"Mom?" Danny asked, fidgeting with his keys in his pocket. "So...what do you think of him now?"
Ms. Yeung was quiet for a while, putting the tupperware lunches into the fridge. Closing the fridge door, she looked at Danny and replied, "He's very charming."
"So you're okay with us dating then?" her son asked, holding his breath.
Danny's mom sighed. "We'll see, young man," she said, her reply ending on a higher tone, as if she was asking a question. She looked away for a second, then walked past her son and headed upstairs. "Pierre, I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Danny."
His dad was watching him from the living room couch. He shot Danny a quick, reassuring wink as he replied, "Coming, Maggie."
Simon Harris wished he could go home.
Instead, he stayed staring at the setlist for the night, a wrinkled sheet of paper affixed to a clipboard, filled with strikethroughs and last-minute additions.
If he looked busy enough, maybe he could have just a moment of peace. Chaos surrounded him: anxious members of local bands coming into the hipster bar, some already getting drunk and rowdy, others crowding around Simon to ask questions that were already covered in the emails; the sound girl who just realized the venue's mics weren't working, and was a phone call away from completely losing it; the cute but dumb security guard who kept asking Simon who was allowed to go in the green room; and the bar owner silently surveying the thin crowd, arms crossed, not impressed.
"Where's Jesse?" someone asked for the hundredth time tonight.
"I don't know." Except, of course, Simon knew exactly where Jesse was.
"Are you next in charge?"
"Yes." The damned word, leading to yet another issue, yet another delay. It was at a moment like this when Simon wondered what he was doing with his life.
A decade ago, he'd been a hopeful, determined, proactive young guy. Right after high school, it was a no-brainer to skip university and spend all his time and money from Booster Juice and Foot Locker on recording song demos and fancy threads. Since he was a child he could sing, and his interest in songwriting was budding as he went through teenage angst coupled with coming out. He'd thought without a doubt that he was meant to be a singer when he grew up.
He kept his chin up through all the rejection that was to come: all the managers and agents who never returned his calls after sending them his latest demo, all the music contests he didn't get into, all the band auditions that went south as soon as people gave him the once-over.
"Hey guys...the Sugarcones, yeah? Hey, loved your song about the peppermint...so listen. The band who was supposed to go ahead of you can't make it; family issue with the guitarist. Can I ask a huge favour?"
Simon kept working on his craft, taking singing lessons when he could afford them, writing a few hundred songs over several years. He met and worked with other musicians, but it was hard finding someone who shared his creative vision, and over the years most of them threw in the towel and got a "real" job, while a handful found success and was never heard from again.
He paid rent by waiting tables, handing out flyers and samples on street corners, trapping himself in a call centre cubicle, working two to three jobs at any given time. When he got home, he wrote songs and did vocal training. Six hours of sleep a night was a blessing.
"Ladies, please! You're on next!! There's no alcohol in the green room...here, gimme that and go backstage. Yes, you're on next...now!"
By his mid-twenties, Simon's outlook began to dim. He realized the problem wasn't his musical skills or his work ethic. He began to understand what label executives meant when they told him he didn't have the "right look", the "stage presence", or the "whole package". They meant his skin tone (black), his height (five foot five), and his mannerisms. He would never forget, during one national singing competition, the flippant look on a female judge's face when she said that the way his fingers darted in the air as he pulled off a big high note was "too delicate". Many also told him to try doing rap or R&B, when his heart had been in rock and pop since day one.
Then, two years ago, he met Jesse. Simon got on the bill of a local music showcase that Jesse ran. As soon as the aspiring singer met the event host, he was spellbound. With his quick eyes, perfect dimples, swimmer's build, and silver tongue, Jesse captivated Simon. He made Simon feel understood and valued like no one had before.
They liked many of the same artists and songs, and had music debates that went on for hours. They began spending many nights in Jesse's car, parked at fast food parking lots, criticizing the unfair, slow-to-adapt music industry until the early morning. They vowed to take over the charts with their next song.
Simon felt like they'd known each other from before, and what was more, he felt like he belonged in Jesse's company. So when Jesse asked the singer if he was interested in helping out his music showcase series, Simon said yes without hesitation.
"Thanks Gaby for running out and getting the mics. You saved our lives again....no no, it's fine. The sound's...not perfect, but we're doing the best we can."
Since then, Simon's feelings for Jesse only grew--Jesse who was straight but well aware of the unspoken layer in their relationship. The suave host made so many promises, of setting up a record label and launching Simon as the flagship artist, of shooting a series of music videos that told a multi-part narrative, of dedicating an entire showcase night to Simon, his co-host. None of them came true, but there was always a new promise, a new venture that sounded original and exciting coming from Jesse's mouth.
In the meantime, what the singer got was more and more responsibilities, taking on paperwork, cold calls to venues and festival organizers, social media accounts, a blog, correspondence with bands past and present...basically everything but the finances and the sound tech. Between working for Jesse and juggling a side job or two to make ends meet, Simon barely had time to work on his own music.
Last month, Simon turned 31. His big crew of gay friends, most of whom he'd met through the myriad of jobs he'd had over the years, threw him a real bender of a party. The next morning, he felt two things. The first was that he was getting too old for benders. The second was the sneaking dread he'd harboured for months, now ringing loud and clear in his head: that he was stuck in a rut.
It was like there was no way out of this pitiful circus that his life had become. He'd lost track of his goal, bogged down in the means until they became the ends. Yes, he was around music; yes, he made lots of contacts and attended some industry conferences for free. But at the end of the day, where did all that get him? Five minutes under the spotlight, seven minutes top, singing songs that ten, twenty people heard once and never bothered to download afterwards from iTunes. He began to deeply regret not doing post-secondary education during his twenties. He began to have serious doubts.
"Please, everyone, can we get another round of applause for No More Rain?" A shrill feedback whistle pierced through the loudspeakers as Simon spoke through the mic. "...all right, so we're gonna take a little break right now, but coming up, we've got a lot more amazing talent, doing rock, heavy metal, rap, acoustic, and yours truly bringing you the best pop in the city; I promise you! Oh, it's gonna be a stellar night! Stick around and we'll see you in 15."
As quickly as he could, Simon slipped back to the makeshift office adjacent to the green room. He needed to talk to Jesse. But when he got there, all he saw was an empty room.
Stepping out of the office, a swarm of musicians began to gather around the co-host. Simon raised his arms.
"Guys, I'm really sorry, but I have to find Jesse first, and then I'll answer all your questions. Gimme five minutes."
The whining crowd droned on. Simon sped down the narrow hallway and pushed open the back door into the breezy summer night.
"Jesse?" he called, looking around the dirty alleyway. After a few seconds, he faintly heard chuckling.
"Jesse," Simon said, heading towards Jesse's voice around the corner. "How long are you gonna be? I need you back in there."
When he rounded the corner, he saw that the main host, dressed in his classic suit and tie, was on the phone, in front of a dumpster. He looked up at Simon and waved him off, making the co-host stop and take a deep breath.
"Is that Sasha?" Jesse ignored Simon's question, listening attentively to the conversation over the line. "Jesse, please, I need you in there, Gaby needs you in there. The owner's pissed..."
The host held up one finger and turned around. Simon felt himself teetering on the edge.
"Look, I don't care if it's fucking Taylor Swift on the line. You need to get in there, now!"
Turning around, Jesse's eyes were cold and still. "Oh, yes...yes, wow, that, honestly, wow, that sounds like an amazing lyric. I mean, it's like Adele mixed with Gaga. You got both sides there...and I really think you're onto something completely fresh and...yes, YES, exactly! Listen, I'm so sorry to do this, but I have to let you go. The crowd's really starting to build and you know how amateur bands are--clueless little kids. Oh man...yeah, so, I need to take care of some stuff and...please the people...YES, please the people! Make `em sing!"
Simon stood rigidly, arms crossed.
The host purred his final goodbyes and tucked away his phone. Adjusting his suit, he refocused his icy glare to Simon.
"I was on the phone with Sasha and I was THIS CLOSE to scoring a showcase gig with her."
"That's great, but it's a zoo in there and everyone's fucking being impossible...c'mon, you know I can't handle every single thing in there."
"Simon, you're not listening to me. I almost got Sasha to my night." Simon swallowed hard. "Can you even...fathom how many people would come to a Sasha showcase? And I mean the people who count, the suits and the cool kids. "Do Me Nasty" debuted at number five this week. Can you even comprehend..." Jesse walked up to his co-host and looked at him like a little child. "...what a 30-minute set with her would do for me? The new clientele it'll bring? The cred it'll get me, finally, after years of this fucking bullshit?" His eyes opened wide. "And then you tell me to get off the phone to handle some shit that you can take care of yourself?"
Simon was astounded. He was sure boiling blood was about to spill from his eyes.
"You fucked her already, didn't you?"
Jesse's condescending expression dropped, to one of utter shock. Simon slapped his own forehead and groaned. "My God, I can't believe this!" He laughed coldly. "After all this time I still thought..."
"Simon, this is not about..."
"YES IT IS!" he shouted, letting his last reservation go. "Yes it is! This is about us. Oh yes sir, this is ALL about us!" He whipped his arms in the air and circled the messy alley, speaking loudly. "This is about every single little bullshit thing you said to me to keep me here, every single little thing I took on for you, hoping..."
Jesse's awestruck eyes betrayed his stupor. Simon had never talked back to him like this before. But the host quickly went back to smooth operator mode. "Buddy, listen to me! Sasha's gonna change all that! She's gonna turn this whole thing around. Oh man, if you only knew how I have this all worked out: her exclusive contract to my record label; management, booking, and promotion all in the deal. I'm already getting chummy with her dad and I know it'll just take another meeting for him to sign everything over to me..."
Simon put up his hand up in front of him. "Stop, just stop."
Jesse was speechless.
"You don't get it, do you?" Simon asked, looking at the man whom he dedicated his life to for two long, hard years. "I mean shit to you...DAMMIT!" Burning tears began to flow; Simon turned around. "Every fucking word you said, every fucking time you promised me..."
In a flash, Jesse grabbed him and held tight. If it were any point in the last two years, Simon would've screamed for joy. But at that moment, Jesse's arms felt hollow.
"I know it's been hard, Simon. Things haven't been going like I planned. But don't think for a second that I don't need you."
He turned his head and spoke right to Simon's ear. "You're my rock, my lifesaver." A deep sigh.
"I can't do this without you. And we're so close, so close to a breakthrough, you'll see..."
Every word sounded empty, phony. Then a light turned on in his head; Jesse was never going to change. Things were never going to change. They would never be together.
"I can't do this anymore," Simon muttered. He thought he was going to say sorry, but then he realized that, no, he wasn't sorry. "This is not it. This is not how it's supposed to be," he continued, pushing Jesse's arms away.
All the time he wasted fantasizing, all the little moments when he thought, maybe, Jesse would come around this time...his heart lifted as he finally extinguished that flicker of false hope, the thing that kept him going.
"What are you saying?"
Simon faced the host. "I can't do this anymore. I've wasted so much time..." He looked at Jesse not in anger now, but in sadness. "And you'll never give me a chance, you'll never give me what I deserve." The tears began to cool on his cheeks. "I can't be your go-to anymore. I need to do me, my life..."
At that point, Jesse turned furious, scared shitless. He abandoned all pretense of cordiality. "What are you gonna do out there, Simon? Wait more tables? Rot in a cubicle?" he asked, pointing into the windy night air. "You're meant to be doing this..."
"This??" Simon asked, pointing to the bar.
"Music! It's in your blood. It's...it's what you're meant to do! Are you giving up now, after how far you've come?"
"No, not music; you." It was incredible how quickly years of devotion could just wash away after the blinkers were taken off. "I don't need you."
Silence. A static stare.
"FUCK!!" Jesse turned and kicked the dumpster. It was the first time Simon ever saw him lose his composure. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" He cried.
"It's your show, Jesse. You always make it work." Simon said dryly, turning around to walk back to the bar. "Just get up there and do your thing."
He didn't expect the host to run up behind him and grab his hands.
"Get your hands OFF ME!" Simon screamed. He wrung his hands free and slapped Jesse across the face. The host's eyes were wide open; Jesse couldn't believe what was happening. The singer left him standing there and went towards the back entrance.
A wave of people pushed towards him as he opened the door. He didn't hear a single word; all he said was, "Jesse's over there; go ask him," over and over again. As singers and guitarists and drummers made a beeline to the stunned host, Simon saw Gaby and gave her a hug.
"I'm done here. Good luck. Find another gig," he said to her, before going to getting his stuff from the office.
The walk out of the bar felt like a victory march. He knew this would be a short victory, but it felt so very sweet in that moment, before the pieces fell down to the ground. The club owner tapped on his shoulder as he passed the bar; he shrugged and told him he was no longer in charge, then continued walking.
When he stepped outside the bar through the front door, it was like he left a part of himself behind. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, Simon honestly didn't know. He had no idea if life would make sense or get worse from now on. But it was time for him to step back from the hustle, step back from even the lyric sheet, and take a good look at his life. What now?
Well, he wasn't done with benders yet.
"Yo, Simon, my man, you did you and you did good!" Julio exclaimed. He raised his beer bottle and clinked the tip to Simon's bottle.
He was at his friends' house party downtown, in a mostly straight crowd. It was so packed that conversing pairs and trios had to stand in the middle of hallways, sit on each other's lap, even stake a spot in one of the washrooms.
Four people lived in this house, situated just north of the downtown university campus: Nicole, an actress and drama teacher he'd known for years; Arthur, a journalist at the public broadcaster who moonlighted as a session musician; Julio, a poly sci masters with rich parents; and Jae, Julio's friend from school.
Simon knew all of them well except for Jae, a second-generation Korean. He was the newest roommate in the house, after the other three kicked out their previous roommate because she spent all her money on shoes instead of rent. Julio met Jae in club rugby last fall and became fast friends. Two weeks later, Julio introduced him to the other roommates, who all took a quick liking to him, and the rest was history.
Although Simon had only met him twice, it was easy to see why Jae made such a great impression on his friends so quickly. Firstly, there was his physicality: five foot eleven, a kind, pleasing face that exuded boyish charm, a sensational smile, and a brawny 175 lbs. Simon could verify, from some drunken bet or game a few months ago, that Jae's upper body was smooth, light skinned, and buff.
An accounting major, Jae's other attractive feature was his personality. He lit up the room whenever he came by, warmly greeting everyone, actively listening to and remembering conversations, and telling jokes to a rapt audience. Simon was envious of the undergraduate's confidence, his willingness to poke fun at himself, his penchant for speaking his mind even when his opinion wasn't fully formed, and his ease at taking things lightly. Simon wasn't the only one who was attracted to all of these attributes: the girls always said hi to Jae, flipping their hair, and laughed at his jokes; the guys all wanted to be around him, claiming to be best buds with "the man".
The thing was, nobody knew who Jae was interested in. He mentioned dating a few girls back out west, where he was born and raised, but as far as everyone knew (and people had been digging), he hadn't gone out with anyone since he transferred to university here last fall. And since he was so charming and lovable to everyone, nobody knew if he had feelings for anyone.
What also dogged Simon's mind was an incident during the same drinking game when Jae took off his shirt. They'd gotten to the "spin the bottle" segment of the night (Simon only watched, of course), and a flushed Jae spun the bottle, only to have it point to Julio.
A massive holler exploded in the room. With a drunken grin, Jae grabbed Julio's face as the poly sci student freaked out, and planted a big long kiss on his friend's lips. The rowdiness turned to gasps as it lasted for five, then ten seconds, ending when a panicking Julio finally wrestled himself free of Jae's husky arms.
Then the accounting major raised his fists in the air, which prompted a big cheer from everyone again.
Truth be told, Simon had masturbated once to that scene.
He shifted his sitting position at the kitchen table, having arrived at the house party early enough to get a precious seat in the overcrowded building. Julio went off somewhere; he'd been talking to a few girls who were new to this loose group of friends. Simon had a rare moment of quiet and he relished it.
Nicole walked by and moped with all of her expressive face when she saw Simon. "You doing okay there, love?" she asked, stopping. He'd told her all that had happened earlier in the evening.
"Yeah, just taking a breather before getting up to see where the action is. Maybe I'll do some karaoke in the TV room in a bit."
"Oh hun, you'll clear the room cos no one will wanna sing after you!" Nicole replied, laughing in her chipper manner, her ginger curly hair bobbing. "You're doing okay, though?" She came in for a hug.
"Yeah, thanks. I'm glad I'm here."
"You belong here, not with that crooked rat," Nicole affirmed, her face full of disdain. "Sorry, you know I never liked him. And darling, look at you, with your beautiful face and body that never puts on any fat. You deserve so much better."
"Aw, Nicole, you don't have to..." he replied, waving off the compliments. "But, yeah, you were right all along. I just had blinkers on."
"Well, we have to celebrate you seeing the light!" the actress exclaimed, tapping her fingers on the table. She squeezed by two people having an intense talk about some TV show and went to the fridge. "Say, have you seen Jae around?" she asked, opening the fridge door.
"No, actually," Simon replied. "I think he may have gone out to the back. They're setting up cards...he's probably getting it started."
Nicole came back with two open beer bottles. She saw there were no other chairs at the kitchen table at the moment, and plopped her little butt down on Simon's lap. "Can I just tell you, every time I run into Jae coming out of the shower...omigod I can't even..."
Simon giggled politely, taking the offered bottle. "He's so damn hot...but it's impossible to tell what he thinks of me. He's so damn nice and friendly to everyone," she moaned.
"Nobody can figure him out...I mean, he's so open about everything else but that, isn't he? I've noticed, every time someone wants to dig deeper, he just turns it into a joke or just shrugs it off." Simon wondered if maybe, just maybe...but then he reminded himself that he just wasted two years of his life on a straight guy.
After a moment of quiet, Nicole said, "I'll...be back," patting Simon's thigh. She headed towards the backyard. The TV couple soon walked off as well, probably to Nicole's film and TV collection upstairs.
The singer looked at the beer bottle and left it on the table. He'd already had two, and he didn't want to ruin the one physical feature he was most proud of: his defined abs. Just as he lifted up his tee to check how they were doing, Jae came into the kitchen.
"Whoa, check out those abs!" the accounting major whistled. Simon almost jumped out of his seat. He pulled his shirt down as quickly as possible.
"Hehe..." the singer stammered. Jae flashed him a killer grin and went to open the fridge. Simon couldn't helping staring at Jae's well-built arms and shoulders as they popped out against his loose striped beach tanktop.
"No more beer!" he sighed, closing the door. "Guess someone's gotta run out and get some more..." he said, cocking his eyebrows at Simon, who chuckled.
"Here, have mine," the singer offered, grabbing the bottle and extending it to the Asian hunk.
"You sure? I don't wanna take away your buzz. I heard from Julio you had a pretty rough night."
"Please," Simon affirmed, nodding his head. Jae smiled and took the offer. "I took a sip from it...I hope you don't mind."
The accounting major shook his head and took a swig. "Thanks, Simon," he responded with a smile.
They looked at each other. Simon felt himself getting warm.
"C'mon, we're starting King's Cup, " Jae said, motioning with his hand as he started walking out the kitchen.
"Oh, it's that time of the night," Simon replied with a smirk. "I'm okay," he continued, shaking his head and looking down. Jae stopped.
"C'mon Simon. You're an awesome drunk!"
"No, it's cool," he said with a polite smile. Jae stood waiting with his own smile, dazzling. If there were a contest to see who could endure the most awkwardness, Simon knew he would lose five seconds into the first round. Jae had either the thickest skin known to man, or he really just didn't give a shit about what other people thought of him.
Simon threw his hands up. "I gotta take care of my abs," he proclaimed, laughing.
"Wow, if I only had your discipline," Jae said, raising his eyebrows. Then he lifted up his tanktop to check himself out.
True, Jae didn't have a six-pack, but he still had a flat belly and tapered midsection. And the big pink nipples that Simon got a peek of, on top of that wide, beefy chest...Simon shifted in his seat.
"You look great," he said in a low voice.
"Nah, I drink too much beer and eat too much pizza," the Asian jock replied, putting down his top.
"Well, you're still young, so enjoy it while you can," the singer sighed. "I'm already breaking my diet having two beers. And I remember pizza..." he continued, grinning.
Jae stayed gazing at Simon. The singer couldn't handle it; he broke the stare and looked away. After another moment, the accounting student stepped towards the kitchen table, then crouched in front of the singer.
"Look, I know we're not best buds yet, but if you wanna talk about what's on your mind, I'm here" Jae offered.
"Thanks, Jae. That's so nice of you."
"Seriously," he repeated, looking at Simon. "Do you...wanna talk now?"
When he wanted to, Jae always convinced people to go his way. They went upstairs to the Asian jock's room.
It was messy; they had to clear books and clothes off his twin bed in order to sit on it. But Simon didn't notice; he just started talking and Jae listened, and then time flew by. The singer told Jae about the showcase, the job, then Jesse, then their whole history together. Throughout this time, the hunk nodded his head and ask a few short questions, but left the focus of their time together on what Simon needed to get off his chest.
The 31 year-old would've told his entire life story if Nicole hadn't knocked on the door an hour or so into the conversation.
"Oh, there you are!" she proclaimed, coming in; Simon wasn't sure which person she was referring to. "What's going on?" she asked with big eyes, seeing the two sitting side by side on Jae's bed.
"Simon was just telling me about Jesse and everything," Jae responded.
"Oh, that crooked rat. Good riddance, honestly. He's been nothing but negative energy in Simon's life," she said, trying to find a spot on the small bed to sit on. She moved towards Jae, who quickly got up and offered her the bed. "Oh, no, no, silly! Sit down!" she squealed, but the hunk was already sitting down on the floor.
"We missed you in the backyard," the drama teacher continued to Jae. "They were gonna spin the bottle but no guys were willing to kiss another guy!" She burst into laughter.
"Well, sorry I kept you, Jae," Simon said, getting up from the bed.
"No man, it's cool, seriously," Jae replied, one arm extended towards the singer.
Simon was about to leave the room, and get ready to head back home, when he thought about what would be waiting for him there: an empty room, where he would put on headphones and bawl to depressing acoustic laments, or angry rock screamers, until the sun came up.
So he stopped and turned to Nicole, hesitant. ""Hey, Nicole...can I...could I possibly sleep over tonight? It's just..."
"Sure!" Nicole and Jae both declared.
"Hun, you know the door's always open for you, anytime," Nicole affirmed. "And you should be around people right now."
"Yeah, and you better fuckin' drink some more!" Jae hollered.
The party went on until the wee hours of the morning. Jae turned in around midnight, citing rugby practice and readings for the next day. Simon stayed up with Nicole, Arthur, and Julio until the last guest stumbled out the front door; the singer was the only sober one left.
At Nicole's insistence, Simon stopped picking up the empties and got ready for bed. She also insisted he sleep beside her in the same bed; they met years ago as counsellors at an arts camp and slept in the same room the whole summer. The actress joked that it was gonna be like old times tonight. Though the singer found the arrangement a bit awkward, he also preferred the bed to the alternative, a lumpy sofa that had definitely seen more than sleep in its time.
Unfortunately, Simon forgot about Nicole's thunderous snoring. He got through it at summer camp via earplugs, but no such luck tonight. Already stiff from sleeping on a foreign bed, Simon remained wide awake beside his noisy friend, antsy and irritated.
When he finally started feeling drowsy, he was sure that the sun was going to come up at any second. And then he had to go pee.
So he got up and headed to the bathroom, too groggy and grouchy to see that the light was on inside.
When Simon opened the bathroom door, he saw Jae sitting naked at the edge of the small bathtub. He had earbuds on, attached to the laptop resting on the covered toilet in front of him.
One hand was wrapped around his cut cock, glistening with moisture. The prick was erect, its shaft bent upward like a banana.
The other hand tweaked his left nipple, also slick with liquid.
His mouth was agape as his eyes darted from the monitor to Simon.
The singer couldn't move fast enough. Without a word, he slammed the bathroom door shut and hurried back to Nicole's room. Closing the bedroom door quickly behind him, he stopped and realized his heart was racing.
His friend was sleeping on her stomach, arms and legs outstretched as if she landed face-first onto the bed from high elevation, like in some old-timey cartoon. Simon sat down on the floor and caught his breath.
He heard Jae's door open and shut a wall away.