A gay sex story: Tiki Boys
Just over a year ago Jayson made the decision to stop ‘hiding in the closet’ and be openly gay. He didn’t want to make a big deal about it either. He figured he’d just be the same guy everybody always knew, maybe a little more flirty than usual, but otherwise the same. Jay decided it wasn’t his responsibility to outwardly tell people he’s homosexual in the same way that others don’t feel the need to add their sexuality when they introduce themselves.
Having been encouraged by his grandmother to be his true self and explore the new aspects of life revealed to him, he booked himself a seat at a very exclusive gay bar in the city the night of his birthday in hopes of some birthday magic helping him find a really hot guy to hook up with and maybe even date.
******
Pulling up to La Lune Rose, Jayson heard the lively rhythmic music from the parking lot and knew right away he was in for a good night, whether ending with a boyfriend, hook up, or nothing.
Within just minutes of ordering his first beer of the night, he noticed a tall, 6ft or 6′ 2″ guy across the bar that kept looking his way. Jay smiled back, still semi-new to the homosexual world. He orders a serving of chili-cheese fries then steps out to answer his phone. After his big sister wishes him a Happy Birthday, singing him the song, she mentions that his gift should be arriving in the mail any day now. Heading back in, Jayson takes his seat at the bar, a fresh brew and a warm basket of fries covered in queso and steaming meaty gravy before him. Confused, he says, “Um, I only ordered the fries, I don’t have enough for a second beer too,”.
“No worries,” they bartender reassured him, “Freddie Mercury over there got you the beer,”.
Raising his bottle to thank the man glancing at him previously, Jay wasted no time in emptying the basket and knocking back the ice-cold beer. “Birthday luck, don’t fail me now,” he muttered to himself. He looked across to the man, noticing his hazel brown/green eyes, a shade more brown than green, and angled features ‘He must be of some Italian culture’ he thought to himself, the man looking back at that instant. Jayson took a deep breath, nodded his head towards the dance floor and waited eight enormous seconds before his partner winked back.
The two danced, laughing and chatting about this and that. Jay learned the other guy’s name is Mo, though a lot of people call him Moose, that he played basketball in college but wasn’t in it to go pro. Jay told him a similar story, though he talked about deciding on hiking and running after trying three or four different sports in school, none seeming to catch his interest enough.
“You really know how to move,” Mo said over the music.
Jayson blushed, then thanked him then said, “You’re not so bad on your feet either,”. Mo smiled, encouraging the birthday boy, who took a chance and pulled his partner in for a smooth kiss. Neither of them said anything right after, but both could feel there was more between them.
Blocking out the din and music filling the room, Jay suddenly felt captivated by his dance partner. Part of his mind blamed the additional liquid courage, another accredited his hormones, but the winning portion told him it was chemistry. Their bodies grew closer, the lights shined on the tan complexion of Mo. Very soon, Jayson allowed himself to be swept up by the excitement of the beats and the rhythm and the hands now on his sides.
As the music slows, Mo asks, “Do you mind if I get another beer?”
“Not at all,” actually relieved by the break from dancing, a very annoying cramp subsiding in his waist. The bartender gives Mo another long neck, peeling the top off.
Taking a nice long gulp, Mo empties a third of his bottle then returns to Jayson, suggesting, “How about a little pool?”
Without waiting for an answer, he crosses to the billiards table taking a rack off the wall and setting all the pool balls in place. He rolls them around a few times before picking the frame and saying, “You break,” Jay lines up his shot and sends both a solid and striped into opposite corner pockets.
“I guess it’s your call,” he says to his competitor.
Mo checks him over for several seconds before answering, “I guess it is,”.
The two men continue playing, Jaysen winning in the end, and Mo offers to buy the victor a drink. “I’d love to, but I think I’ve had enough for tonight,”.
“Why don’t we head back to my place then? We can have a nice night cap there and see how things go,” he offers, stepping closer.
Jay can’t ignore the throbbing lump in Mo’s lap with them standing so close, and just doesn’t feel ready for what it implies, adding, “The offer sounds great and all but I really think I’ve hit my limit. I’m gonna call and catch a ride back home for the night,”.
“I can give you a ride. You can show me around your house…maybe even give me a tour of your bedroom, ” Mo suggests, closing the small gap between them, his lump now undeniable, his hand softly tugging on Jaysen’s shirt, alcohol thick in his breath. Jay suspects a little pre-gaming may have taken place before arriving tonight, “What do you think?”
“Uhhh no, that’s really ok. I’m just going to call that cab, probably pop a few aspirin then straight to sleep,”
“Jays–”
A guy from a nearby pool table pipes in, “Look, the guy said no. Just let it go,”.
“Hey,” Mo grunts, “Why don’t you mind your own business and get back to you solo game,”. Turning back, he asks, “So Jay, w–”
“Look pal,” says the stranger, clasping Mo’s shoulder and clocking him to the floor, “The guy said ‘no’ three times tonight. He’s not interested!” Mo gets back up about twenty seconds later, clutching his nose, his lips and chin already decorated with streams of blood. “Go run off to the bathroom, clean yourself up, jerk yourself off, and call it a night!” he adds. Frustrated and humiliated, Mo turns to the bathroom, swearing under his breath as he goes.
When the bathroom door closes, Jaysen turns to the guy and tells him, “Hey, thanks. I’m kind of new to the whole ‘gay guy’ scene and I don’t know that I could’ve stood to that guy,”.
“No worries. Markus by the way,” offering out his hand, “Most people just call me Mark, not including the grandparents,” he adds with a chuckle. “Sorry if I over stepped by the way, I just can’t stand it when a dude can’t just hear ‘no’ and accept it,”.
Accepting his hand, Jay takes in a small breath at how soft and tender it feels in his but still strong. “Jaysen. I usually go my Jay or Jayse though,” the two chuckle, returning to the bar after agreeing to split a beer.
They share some small chat and swap a few stories, Mark walking him out into the parking lot. “Oh shit, I can’t believe it,” Jay whines, “I can’t even read my phone, apparently I might’ve had a little much to drink tonight,” he says, laughing apprehensively.
“Here,” Mark offers, taking the phone and typing in a few things before handing it back, “Your cab will be here in twelve minutes and I took the liberty of adding my number so you can text me that you got back safe when you get home,”.
Looking down at his phone, Jay blushes with some embarrassment, but mostly flattery as he thanks his new friend. They chat about sports, vacation stories, work, the taxi cab arriving promptly in the lot. Mark watches, making sure Jaysen get in and buckles in ok, telling the driver, “Hey, make sure this guy gets home safe, Ok?”
Chuckling, the driver says, “Mission accepted,” and the guys close the door.
As they pull away from the bar and the cabbie waits for a break in traffic, looking in his rearview mirror and telling Jay, “Sounds like your partner really cares about you,”.
“My…? Oh, no, he’s actually a guy I just met,”
“Sorry about that one. I was just getting a vibe and thought he was…my fault,” he apologizes, pulling onto the road.
Jaysen stared out the window into space as the words ‘partner’ and ‘boyfriend’ bob around in his head, along with the image of Mark and the sight of him knocking the brusque, pushy man to the ground.
******
“Errrr…I don’t know Milo what do you think? Is too soon? It’s too soon, right?” Jay asks his little tri-legged Boston Terrier who just tilts his head, panting as response. “Alright, alright. Fine,” he adds, “But it’s just a ‘thank you’ lunch, nothing more, ok!!” he explains, stressing his last word. Taking a seat at the counter, Jaysen scrolls through his contact list for Mark’s number, getting up and pacing around his kitchen the second he finds it and presses the call button.
The phone rings a second time, then a third, and then a fourth before he hears, “Heyyy this is Mark. I’m kind of busy at the moment and can’t get the phone but leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can, promise, so leave a message at the mark. Wait, not me but at…well you know,” *BEEP*. Stifling a laugh, Jay says, “Hey Mark, it’s Jaysen, that guy you kind of saved at the bar the other night by punching out that big dude that had a number of beers in him and was being sort of rude and since I’m really not that assertive or confident or whatever aaand I don’t really know why I just told you that. You probably think I’m a complete dork now. Anyhow, I was hoping we could catch some lunch this week, my treat as a ‘thank you’. That new soul food place opened last week on 8th and Capital; thought we could check it out. Ok, cool. Call me back whenever. Bye,”
Slipping right back into his seat, Jay plops his arm on the counter and drops his head, burying his face. “How was that bud? Was it really as bad as I think? Am I really that dork Milo?” he says, looking over at his pup. Jaysen claps his hands, the dog strutting over with his little wobble, his dog-dad lifting him up and getting his cheek coated in doggy kisses.
Setting his boy down, Milo running out to the balcony, either to watch the passing traffic or use his potty area, Jay picks up the empty dog bowl, pouring lunch in, washing his hands after, then turning and pulling a salad out for himself. Tearing open and pouring the croutons onto the mix in, he grabs the dressing and sits, munching away in anticipation.
[zilla_likes]