The Professional Mary-Ann

by Renaissance Makoto J. (ルネサンス・真・J)

See this piece’s entry on the Shousetsu Bang*Bang wiki.

Scotty turned in a circle and gave an appreciative whistle. It echoed back down because the space was so large that sound played tricks. “Wow! Look at this place! What the heck did you do for this guy? This is some thank-you present.”

Dennis tossed his duffel onto the gleaming marble tiles and shrugged. He even gave the back of his blonde head a boyish and uncertain scratch. “That’s a workplace secret,” he said, but it was clear he was pleased that Scotty was impressed.

“This dude’s just letting you crash here for a whole week?” Buck asked from where he was opening every door and making awed exclamations about whatever he encountered. He leaned into one of the cavernous rooms. “There’s a fireplace bigger than my dorm in here!” he shouted. 

Leaning back out of the door, he jammed a baseball hat on his dark head of hat-rumpled hair, then twisted it backwards. He was the perpetual child. The Trojans High School Football shirt he wore only drove the point further home: high school had been years ago for all of them, but it was always only yesterday to Buck. 

“Dibs,” he said seriously.

“Fine by me. Take any room you want. And, yes, we can stay here the whole week,” Dennis agreed. “Not bad, is it?”

“It’s brilliant,” Scotty said. He rubbed his hands together, ready to let the party begin. “Been here before?”

“Maybe,” Dennis said cryptically.

“Whatever. Fine, keep your secrets,” Scotty huffed. “Just show us around.”

Duffels and backpacks down, the three of them moved through the enormous mansion. The decor was tasteful and understated with mellow, harmonious colors. Scotty, being Scotty, exclaimed about seeing something like this on the Property Brothers, but both Dennis and Buck took the opportunity to make inappropriate comments about “those hot twins” and had nothing to say about modern elegance.

Each room yielded treasure upon treasure. “Everything in here is flippin’ gold,” Buck said in the doorway of one room on the second floor. He didn’t go inside as if fear had fused his joints. 

“No stealing!” Dennis shouted from down the hall. 

“I’m not a thief!” Buck protested as his friends laughed at his expense.

The luxurious estate belonged to one of Dennis’ grateful customers. Dennis — always smarter and more daring than his friends — had dropped out of their college two years ago to start his own company. What, exactly, that company did, Dennis was mums about. All Scotty knew was that it had something to do with web security, and that his friend was living the good life because of it. He drove a Tesla that Scotty had looked up online, and the price tag had made him choke on his beer. 

The day Dennis invited Scotty on what he called a ‘fun adventure,’ he had explained that use of the house was a token of gratitude from one of his clients. 

“Come with me,” he had said. “We’ll drag Buck along. It’ll be awesome. Like old times. I’ll make it worth your while.” 

How could Scotty refuse? He rarely got to see Dennis anymore and he missed the guy. And the house had sounded like some reality TV show fantasy. It was turning out to be that and more. He wasn’t disappointed so far; this was the largest, loveliest house he had ever seen. 

After a full perusal of the upper floors, the trio made their way back downstairs.

“This place is wild,” Scotty said. “The bedrooms are huge.”

“And that’s not all,” Dennis said with a big smile. He played Vanna White for a few minutes, revealing a fully stocked bar and kitchen with big, excited gestures. “All for us! All for the low, low price of nada,” he said in a game show voice.

“I want all of it,” Buck sighed and grabbed an expensive, imported beer. He opened it on the sole of his boot and chugged it. 

“Ditto,” Scotty agreed and snatched up a bag of chips from a selection arranged on the island. They were just chips he’d had a million times before, but he swore they tasted better than usual in this fantasy house.

“This is heaven,” Buck said after a long, satisfied sigh. “Dennis, I don’t actually care what you do for a living anymore. You can be the Best Man at my wedding. You can have my guitar. We owe you, dude. This is awesome.”

“Yeah, Denny, thanks,” Scotty added and gave his thinner friend a hug around the shoulders. 

“Did I say that was all?” Dennis asked, his smile widening. He caught Scotty’s hand where it was wrapped around his shoulder, leaned low over it, and kissed it lingeringly which elicited an “Oh, gross, dude!” from Scotty. He pushed his friend away and Dennis snorted a laugh.

“My Lords, the fun is only just beginning,” he said.

“What more could there be?” Buck laughed.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Buck always had uncanny timing.

Dennis ignored his friends’ puzzlement and pressed the intercom panel by the blender. “It’s open,” he said. There was mischief in his voice. 

Buck and Scotty exchanged confused looks. There was a delay, then the click of the door opening, followed by the sound of confident footsteps. Scotty felt anticipation grip him. He held his breath.

What walked in was the most striking man Scotty had ever seen. He was thin and tall, and possessed eyes as green as a gemstone. His clothes were tailored and flattering — a three-piece suit with shining buttons and a pocket square. His hair was an outlandishly ornate confection of honey blonde, and even his walk was somehow expensive. The fashionable glasses perched on his nose were obviously an accessory, just something to make his green eyes even more intriguing. The stranger was older than all three of them, Scotty was sure. Perhaps in his early thirties? He had a worldly air about him, as if houses like this were nothing much. Fashion was easy. Elegance was easy. He was the kind of man who looked like he might walk slowly away from an explosion with a flattering jacket slung over one shoulder.

Scotty was gawking. He glanced at Buck and even Buck was gawking. And Dennis — Scotty couldn’t believe it — Dennis licked his lips. 

“Gentlemen, hello,” said the stranger, and his voice made Scotty shiver. It was melodic and accented, but Scotty didn’t know what the accent was. The man’s tenor tone was simultaneously soothing and enticing. 

Dennis seemed delighted by the reactions of his friends. “Welcome, welcome,” he said loudly to the stranger. “Aiden, meet Buck and Scotty. Buck, Scotty, this is Aiden.”

“Hi,” Buck mumbled. His cheeks had gone red. Scotty got the idea that Buck understood something that seemed too big for Scotty himself to grasp. He felt lost.

“Nice to meet you,” Scotty said softly, feeling gross and inelegant before this majestic creature. His fingers were stained nacho-cheese orange from the chips like some kid. He wanted to look away from Aiden, but his eyes kept drifting back to his long limbs and full mouth. He was too perfect, and it made him a little uncomfortable to look at. He was like a model on a magazine cover, airbrushed to inhuman perfection — no pores, no faults. But this was real life and Scotty’s throat was thick; he kept swallowing trying to dislodge the strange feeling in his chest. He felt flushed.

“Charmed,” Aiden said. “I’m sure we’re all going to be fast friends. Now, Dennis, where do I put my things?” 

“You like the second guest suite, right?”

“Ah, you remember. How lovely.”

“I aim to please,” Dennis quipped. “Why don’t you put your things there? Do you want me to take them?”

“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own things,” Aiden said with a flirtatious wink. And that’s when Scotty understood some of his own uneasiness: Dennis was flirting with Aiden. Dennis never flirted with anyone, at least not in front of Scotty. 

Aiden strutted away with his supermodel walk, and Scotty and Buck immediately turned to Dennis.

“What the hell is going on?” Buck asked.

“I think you get what’s going on,” Dennis said, grinning.

“I mean…he’s a…a…” Buck tried, but didn’t finish. His eyes kept darting to where Aiden had been standing, as if calling his perfection to mind.

Dennis laughed at him. “A prostitute. An escort. A Professional Mary-Ann. Whatever you want to call him. Yes. Fully paid for, no questions asked.”

“Professional Mary-Ann?” Scotty mouthed silently while frowning. “What the hell?”

Dennis either didn’t hear him, or was ignoring him, and Buck was still struggling through his questions.

“And he…he’s part of the house? I mean, part of the deal from your client?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dennis said and dammit if he didn’t lick his lips again. “I only got to pick one, sadly, so I picked for myself. Even rich people have budgets and guys like Aiden aren’t cheap. Sorry, My Lords, if you have different tastes.” 

Scotty shook his head, realized he’d been shaking his head. “What about me?” he asked, sounding kind of snippy. “I’m straight.”

And it’s not like he’d been hoping for a hooker to get off with when he agreed to come along, but if he had been, that wasn’t happening now, was it?

Dennis scoffed at him, then glanced to the direction Aiden had walked. “Nobody’s that straight,” he said.


Scotty felt his face heat and was glad Aiden chose that moment to return so that neither Dennis nor Buck saw his embarrassment. There was definitely something else worth looking at in the kitchen now.

Aiden was just as shocking to behold the second time around. He’d removed his jacket and waistcoat, and the shirt he wore was tight and had been unbuttoned to the fifth button so that smooth skin was visible for what seemed like miles. When he spoke, it was in clear, professional tones, but with a hint of playfulness. This was old hat for him.

“Straight to business, shall we? Now, I received your requests, Dennis, but nothing about the others. Shall we clear that up now?” He brandished a medium-sized electronic tablet and began tabbing through what Scotty had to assume was an app used to coordinate the services of, what was it again? Professional Mary-Anns

“Ah, here we are,” Aiden said. He slipped forward and handed the tablet to Buck who took it blindly, his eyes still trained on Aiden.

“Dennis’ waiver applies for all of you, so don’t worry about that part, just press skip. After that, you’ll find the menu.”

Waiver? Scotty thought. What was the waiver for? He felt so out of his depth.

“Just select what services you’re interested in. We can discuss more later, but many first-time clients find expressing their desires on the tablet less embarrassing. It can be difficult to ask for what you want. This way, you can just press a button. Your requests come right to my watch.” He held up the chunky smartwatch on his wrist to demonstrate. “Select from the menu, and I’ll give you everything you want without you ever having to say a word.”

As he spoke, his voice took on a low, sultry quality that made Buck squirm on his barstool. “Fuck,” he said softly.

“That is on the menu,” Aiden said with a smile.

Buck fumbled with the tablet like a cartoon character, then pulled it to his face as if he wanted to look at it and also hide behind it. He froze suddenly. “Uh, dude, do you mind?”

Dennis had been peeking over his shoulder with interest, but he held up his hands and backed away at Buck’s tone.

“Sorry, sorry. Can’t blame a guy for being curious.”

“Hmph,” Buck said, and just for good measure, he stood up and stalked to the living room where he spent several minutes concentrating on the tablet with red cheeks. Scotty was taken aback by Buck’s sudden modesty: he was usually quite an exhibitionist. Maybe Aiden just had that effect on him?

“We can chat while he’s busy,” Aiden said, twirling to face Scotty. “You’re quite the handsome one. Do you model?”

Scotty’s mouth fell open. “What? No! I mean, uh, thanks?”

“Cute,” Aiden said with a slow smile. His eyes wandered over Scotty from head to toe. “That scar on your neck, not to be rude, but may I ask about it?”

“Uh, it was a dare gone wrong,” Scotty tried, wishing he could be a turtle and hide in his shell. 

Dennis’ eyes came alive, as they always did when he had a chance to tell an embarrassing story about Scotty. “He was eleven. We told him he couldn’t jump this low, brick wall on his bike, but he just had to try,” Dennis exclaimed. “Broken collarbone and thirty-seven stitches from here” — he put a finger gently against Scotty’s sternum — “to here” — he finished, dragging the finger softly and slowly up to the end of the faded scar just below his jawbone. Scotty swatted his hand away.

“It looked shorter than it was,” he griped, which made Dennis roll his eyes. “That’s our Scotty: he never figures anything out unless he gives it a try. He’s from Missouri, you know. A total transplant. The Show Me State? I guess he had to be shown that the wall was too high to jump.”

“Cut it out,” Scotty grumbled. 

“What a story,” Aiden said breezily. His eyes were alight with humor at what Scotty assumed was his expense. “You must have been quite the little daredevil. It’s very striking. I find scars very sexy. I can’t wait to see the whole thing,” he whispered and the corner of his mouth turned up seductively.

“I’m straight,” Scotty blurted suddenly. Dennis slapped his forehead and groaned, but Aiden’s smile didn’t waver.

“Pity,” he said.

Something went crunch in Scotty’s stomach at the way Aiden said pity, but he decided to keep talking until it went away. “Um. Buck’s not. Straight, I mean. He’s bisexual. But really I think he just likes sex so, like, he’ll do anything that moves.”

Aiden lifted a single brow in surprise but, “I see,” was all he said. 

Dennis sighed loudly. “So you won’t need the menu is what you’re saying, Scotty, right?”

“Um. No,” Scotty said. “I don’t need it.” 

“Good. Then I want my turn. Aiden, pick a room,” Dennis said and his smile was wicked. Filthy. 

Scotty felt that uncomfortable thickness in his throat again. He looked away when Aiden moved forward like a silky jungle cat, caught Dennis’ hand, and backed away with him through the kitchen.

“Aren’t we eager?” Aiden said in a singsong voice as they moved out of sight. 

“Hell, yeah. God I wanna fuck you,” was the last thing Scotty heard from Dennis before the kitchen was silent and lonely again. 

In the living room, Buck had stopped fiddling with the tablet to watch Dennis and Aiden pass. He had a strange look on his face when he walked back into the kitchen.

“He got to go first?”

Scotty shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Damn,” Buck said and slammed the tablet down a little too hard. “Not fair. I picked some good stuff from the menu. He does stuff. A lot of stuff,” he added, waggling his eyebrows. 

“I don’t wanna know,” Scotty said. 

“Right, right,” Buck said, but he had already ducked his head to look at the tablet again. His big index finger moved over the screen, and Scotty tried not to imagine what was written there — all the things Aiden would do for money. A lot of stuff.

Scotty left him to his embarrasment of erotic riches, choosing to return to the room he had picked as his own for the week. It would be nice to hang out there while Dennis got whatever out of his system. The room was overlarge, like all of the numerous rooms in the mansion, and cozy and well-furnished. It was comfortable and he was fine. He took some solace in the idea that he hadn’t known a full-service prostitute was part of Dennis’ ‘fun adventure.’ He’d come along on the promise of a built-in theater, a putt-putt course, a basketball court, a gym, and a full-size swimming pool, among other luxuries. There was no way he was feeling left out. 

Buck and Dennis could share their expensive hooker and Scotty would happily leave them to it. 

As he made his way to his room, he listened at each door he passed, but he overheard nothing of Dennis fucking Aiden as he had said he wanted to. Even Scotty didn’t know if he was disappointed or not. 


The day dragged on for Scotty. He tried to stay away from the common rooms like the living room and the kitchen because he didn’t know what to say to his friends who had disappeared for hours to take their turns with Aiden. There was simply no chance he knew what to say to Aiden himself. The very idea of talking to him made Scotty squirm. Avoidance would save the day, he decided. Even still, on a trip to make some lunch, he bumped into Buck who was disheveled and smelled of sex and beer.

“Dude,” he said when he saw Scotty. His face broke into an enormous grin. “Dude.”

“I don’t want to know!” Scotty said. He tried to skirt around Buck, but Buck grabbed his arm.

“Wait, wait, listen,” Buck slurred. “You’ve got to try him. His mouth.” He stopped and took a few shaky steps closer to Scotty; his grip on Scotty’s wrist was iron.

“Let go,” Scotty complained, but Buck got closer, right to his face, in fact.

“I’ve never felt anything like that before, Scotty. I came so hard,” Buck said softly and his hot breath ghosted across Scotty’s mouth. 

“You’re wasted,” Scotty said, and took a step back to put some distance between them. Buck let his wrist go, which was the only reason Scotty was able to get away. Buck was a big guy and had always been strong. He’d played defense in high school, and was at their college on a football scholarship because he’d never stopped being a truck who liked to smash into other people for sport.

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck agreed. “Had a drink or two. Or three! He’s sleeping. That hot little piece of ass. Dude. I’m gonna get us some food, eat something, and then make him suck me off again. His mouth is a miracle. His tongue.”

“Oversharing!” Scotty said with a frown. 

Buck gave Scotty an up and down with his eyes, his look almost disdainful. “I dunno,” he said thoughtfully. “Are you blind? You saw him, same as me. I think Denny Boy was right: nobody’s that straight.”

“You’re full of shit,” Scotty said and waved his hand at Buck dismissively. 

“Whatever,” Buck said. “But I’m just saying, if you wanna fuck him, just fuck him. Nobody cares, dude. I’m not gonna make you march in Pride or anything just because you stick your dick in a hooker. Just…loosen up, ok?”

But Scotty walked away without replying to that. The whole conversation was infuriating.

“March in Pride? You don’t even march in Pride!” he shouted over his shoulder as he stomped off.

“I might!” Buck shouted right back.

Scotty thought for a long time in his room with his hastily made sandwich, mindlessly flipping through channels on the massive TV and seeing nothing. He was still pissed off about Buck. It’s not like I’m closed-minded or anything, he thought. He had no problem with gay people. Dennis was gay, right? And Buck was bisexual. He was cool with the Community.

The minute he thought that, he slapped his forehead and groaned. He’d just thought the equivalent of some of my best friends are gay, hadn’t he? God, that made him a scumbag. 

He didn’t know what was bothering him exactly, but he knew he was bothered. That clenching in his gut, the thickness in his throat — none of it had gone away from the moment he first laid eyes on Aiden. What was the root cause? 

His parents had never said one way or the other about any of it. He had no deep-seated ideas about Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory; about who deserved each place and why. He wasn’t indoctrinated in some creepy religion that persecuted people like…well, uh, Christianity. He was an Atheist! Well, almost…it was complicated. He’d written a paper about it for World Religions 101 and gotten a solid F, so, yeah, there was that. Still, he had put some thought into it all, and there was nothing in his mind that said being gay was bad.

Only he wasn’t gay. He wasn’t. He dated girls. He fucked girls. That’s all he knew.

And so having it all shoved in his face was…you know, not what he wanted. And that included Aiden, even if Aiden was…

And here Scotty paused, his thoughts grinding to a halt. What was Aiden?

He was feminine and masculine all at once, which confused Scotty. He was an unrepentant flirt, and fit and fashionable to a ludicrous degree. He was witty and clever and just a little bad. He was…

Scotty sighed aloud. “He’s beautiful,” he admitted. And that was the problem.


Denny and Buck were relatively respectful of the house and of decorum those first few days. Scotty gave them credit for that. When the three of them weren’t hanging out watching TV or checking out all the cool things in the mansion, Dennis and Buck disappeared to some room or the other and did stuff with Aiden. His friend’s words echoed in his mind far too often; the idea of his friends with Aiden a scab he couldn’t stop picking.

‘God I wanna fuck you.’

‘You’ve got to try him. His mouth.’

As for Aiden, he seemed content to keep clients at arm’s length when he wasn’t being otherwise employed. He didn’t spend any time at all with the three of them unless sex was on the docket. Scotty wondered idly what hookers even did in their free time. 

But since there were long hours when Aiden’s services were clearly being used, Scotty was left alone for what felt like ages. It was kind of boring and Scotty had to confront the fact that he kind of wished Dennis had told him before about a hooker being part of his thank-you present from that client. At least then he could have known what to expect. He could have even spent the break on campus instead, found a date or something. Hell, he could have finished a couple of video games. Maybe even studied. Instead, he was stuck keeping himself busy while waiting for all the gay sex to stop just so he could see his friends again. Part of the reason for the trip was to spend more time with Dennis, who he missed a lot. But where was he? Off fucking Aiden, of course.

It was afternoon before he knew it, and Scotty went down to the kitchen for an apple to snack on. And because his luck was crap, on the way back to his room, he ran into Aiden. He looked like a magazine cover again in another three-piece suit, and were those gold cufflinks? Who the hell wears gold cufflinks? Scotty’s brain screamed at him.

“Hello,” Aiden said with a slow smile. “Scotty, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Scotty said, nervously rolling the apple in between his hands. He was so uncomfortable. Of course he didn’t know exactly what Aiden had been up to, but he had a pretty good idea. And he’d been up to it with his best friends, who were both showing a side to themselves he’d never seen before. 

“Hi,” he added belatedly. “Um. Aiden.”

“And how are you? Not bored, I hope,” Aiden said, leaning in with interest.

“I’m fine,” Scotty said. His tone wasn’t exactly pleasant. He had a moment of panic, imagining his mother calling him rude, so he added, “And you?” This was the most awkward moment of his life — this stilted, rudderless conversation. He had to escape. How did he even end up here?

“I can’t complain. Glad you’re keeping yourself busy,” Aiden said. There was an expression on his face that Scotty just knew was amusement. Aiden thought it was funny that he was a naive little straight boy who didn’t know how to deal with someone like him. Because, yeah, Dennis was gay and Buck was bi, but Aiden was a hooker who would maybe sleep with anybody if the price was right. A hooker with a mouth that was a ‘miracle’ if Buck was to be believed.

“I…I’m going upstairs. Have a nice day,” Scotty said, most of the words aimed at his navel. 

“You do the same, handsome,” Aiden said in a tone that sounded so much like laughter that Scotty had to fight not to run to his room.


The day after that terrible conversation was fairly normal, all things considered.

Scotty spent more time with Dennis and Buck, too, which he was excessively grateful for. Aiden was nowhere around when the three of them hung out, and that was probably more responsible for Scotty’s joy than actually being around his friends was. God, he was a loser.

They played a round of putt-putt golf, watched a movie in the enormous theater, and joked around by the pool. Scotty had to admit that this was what he had imagined when Dennis invited him along. 

“Your clients are something else, Denny,” Scotty mused. “Who has a pool like this? A home theater? And that gym.” Scotty whistled. 

Dennis shrugged. “Dumb, rich people.”

“They can’t be dumb if they’re this loaded,” Buck contradicted.

“Sometimes dumb people inherit,” Dennis said with a sardonic eyebrow high. But he would tell them no more about his job or his client, even when they pressed him. It was just like old times with Dennis being smart and vain about it, and Scotty and Buck just trying to keep up.

It was all going so well that Scotty felt like he’d been gut-punched when Buck looked up from his beer and said, “I feel like fucking Aiden.”

“I was just thinking that,” Dennis piped up. There was a minute when they stared at each other. Then as one, they shrugged and stood. 

“I mean, I’m cool if you are,” Buck said. 

Dennis shrugged again. “You know I don’t care,” he said. He turned to Scotty. “You gonna be okay?” he asked. Scotty almost snarled, “Does it matter?”

Instead, he just shook his head. “Have fun,” he said and didn’t even bother trying to sound sincere. And just like he’d thought, it didn’t matter because Dennis and Buck disappeared to go find Aiden and have a fucking threesome without a backwards look at him. 

He closed his eyes and tried not to imagine it. 

“What the hell is wrong with those two?” he asked himself. “A threesome? Since when are they cool with that?” 

How well did he really know his friends if they could surprise him this much over such a short period of time? 

Scotty sat by the pool for a long time and his mind insisted on painting him graphic pictures of Aiden. He’d never thought about a man sexually before and now he had nowhere to go and nothing else to think about. And, yeah, Buck and Dennis were participating, Scotty knew that perfectly well. But it was easy to block them out and focus on Aiden when he tried. They were his oldest and closest friends: he didn’t really want to begin thinking about them that way. And anyway eww.

But Aiden was an unknown. A mystery with green eyes, a beautiful face, and a way about him that got under Scotty’s skin, even though they’d barely spoken at all.

Scotty could imagine Aiden’s long, thin limbs — probably muscled and firm. He could imagine his full mouth parted in pleasure, his body twisting on a big bed. In fact, it was very easy to think of Aiden that way. 

Scotty covered his face and sat there staring at the shadows of his palm. He was straight, for the love of God. 

What the hell was wrong with him?


A few hours later, Scotty stomped down the stairs to meet Dennis and Buck. Dennis had suggested by the pool earlier that they drink and play cards tonight, and it was such a normal thing that Scotty had agreed cheerfully. However, when he made it to the ground level, his friends hadn’t arrived yet. Only Aiden was there, and Scotty looked away quickly, embarrassed by the whole situation. It was too late to turn and sneak back upstairs — Aiden had already seen him. So he took a fortifying breath and decided to face Aiden like a man. 

Aiden smelled clean, like he’d taken a shower after, you know, having a threesome with Scotty’s best friends. Scotty didn’t know if he was angry. And if he was angry, was it with Aiden? Or was it with Dennis and Buck? Was he mad at himself for thinking about Aiden’s body in such a way?

Aiden waved at him as he came down the stairs. It was so casual, like nothing about the situation perturbed him in the slightest.

“A boys’ night, I hear,” he said. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and his eyes were so green they were like emeralds. 

“Yeah. We’re gonna play cards,” Scotty said. 

“A fun time for all, then. Granted, I have no talent for cards,” Aiden admitted. “I never can remember the rules.”

“I don’t know if I believe you,” Scotty said without thinking.

“Ha, and why is that?” Aiden asked, and even put a finger to his chin in thought. He was being playful and coy, and Scotty just felt dumb and awkward.

“I dunno. I just get the idea that you’re good at everything you try,” Scotty admitted. 

This made Aiden laugh. It was a musical, lovely sound. “You’re a flatterer. Well then, since you’ve caught me, I’ll tell you the truth, but promise not to tell the other two.”

“I promise,” Scotty said immediately. 

“The truth is, I’m very good at poker. I pretend to lose because clients like watching me take everything off slowly.”

Scotty swallowed. “Uh,” he said. “You lose on purpose? You play strip poker and lose on purpose?”

“Yes of course!” Aiden laughed again. “You’re too cute.”

Scotty felt his cheeks flame. He momentarily felt sympathy for anyone caught in Aiden’s clutches. They wouldn’t stand a chance.

“You know, this is the longest conversation I’ve had since I got here,” Aiden said, eyes all but twinkling.

Scotty’s skin was red hot now. “I…guess that’s true,” he mumbled. “Denny kind of took you away as soon as you got here. And he, well, uh, you know him.”

“Indeed I do know Dennis. All his little appetites. But your friends are young. They have stamina. Needs, if you will. Now you! You’re the only one who hasn’t been having any fun,” Aiden said, sounding sad on his behalf. “Are you very lonely?”

Scotty shook his head emphatically. “There’s a lot to do here. It’s a nice house.”

“It is,” Aiden agreed. “But I feel just awful for you. I could call one of the girls. Some of them owe me a favor. It would be on the house. Another secret between me and you.” He said this brightly, conspiratorially, like they were old friends about to do something naughty.

He sized up Scotty. “What do you like? Dark skin? Pale? Blonde hair? Black hair? Someone exotic, perhaps?”

“Blondes,” Scotty blurted. But it wasn’t true and he knew it. He liked smaller, brown-skinned girls with high breasts and curvy hips. But now all he could see were long, thin, blondes with graceful arms and endless legs. “Pale…blondes. With…green eyes?”

Aiden paused. “Like me, then, hmm?” Aiden asked after a moment, and his eyes were knowing, almost calculating.

“Maybe,” Scotty whispered with his head down. “Maybe like you,” he added unnecessarily. 

“Fascinating. Well, I’ll see what I can do. Nobody matching my description owes me any favors at all, sadly,” Aiden said. He even pouted a little as if it was all too unfortunate. “But perhaps another type of girl would satisfy?”

“Uh, no,” Scotty admitted. He knew that, at least, was true. 

“Fascinating,” Aiden repeated. He stared at Scotty for a long, excruciating moment so that Scotty was beyond relieved when Dennis and Buck tumbled in at last, freshly showered and looking ready for fun. 

“Get ready to lose all your quarters, My Lords!” Dennis hollered. He jogged forward, caught Scotty by the waist, and twirled him around like a square dancer. 

“No way!” Scotty argued, glad to have a distraction.

“Let’s do this!” Buck shouted and pulled a deck of cards from his back pocket. “That table by the window will work.”

Dennis nodded, then looked to Aiden who was making his way silently to the kitchen. True to form, he was disappearing when his services weren’t required.

“Hey, d’ya wanna play?” Dennis called out.

And for some reason, Aiden’s eyes drifted to Scotty. “Would you hate that?” he asked. Something clenched in Scotty’s gut and he couldn’t name it.

He sputtered in surprise, saying, “No, don’t be crazy. Poker’s better with four anyway. Why don’t you play with us? Take a break from…um?” The ‘um’ seemed to encapsulate Aiden’s day job well enough, Scotty decided.

Aiden laughed. “A break from um Sounds fun. Deal me in.”

Scotty looked to Dennis quickly, then glanced back to Aiden. “You any good?” he asked, schooling his features to curiosity. He felt pretty sly.

Aiden beamed at him, “Oh, I’m rubbish,” he said. He was even pretty when he lied.

An hour later, a very tipsy Dennis scowled at Aiden, and pointed an unsteady finger at his face. “I think we’re being hustled,” he slurred. 

“Yeah!” Buck added, no more sober than Dennis. 

Scotty had a buzz going, but he wasn’t nearly as far gone as his friends. And Aiden was stone-cold sober, having done nothing but sip daintily at a diet soda the entire night. 

“You’re casting aspersions on my character?” Aiden asked. A pale hand went to his heart. “You wound me!”

Scotty couldn’t stop his chuckle at Aiden’s dramatic words. He didn’t know how Aiden could be all man one minute, then say something so feminine the next. There was no doubt it was done deliberately — Aiden had the act of being Aiden down perfectly. He was girly, yeah, that much was true, but he could drop it whenever for whatever reason. Scotty didn’t understand him.

And here Aiden was, winning almost every hand, with a neat stack of quarters before him. He always took his pot with an expression of surprise, while his long arms gathered up his haul with a practiced air.

“You’ve cleaned me out,” said Buck, frowning at the single quarter he had left. Somehow, Scotty still had quarters left, and he suspected that Aiden was going easy on him since he was in on the scheme. 

Aiden’s eyes went mysterious and dark, and his voice became a purr. “I’ve hardly cleaned you out. You’re still fully clothed,” he contradicted, and that’s when the game changed. Strip poker began in earnest. 

Over the next half hour, Aiden still worked the game, sparing Scotty so that he only lost his shoes, and that was some next-level shit, he thought. His friends, however, didn’t fare so well. Dennis lost his shirt, and his tight, small muscle became flushed for all to see from alcohol and excitement; his freckles stood out like paint splatters on a tarp. 

Buck lost his shoes and shirt, and was looking mortified by the prospect of losing his pants, but he didn’t stop staring at Aiden through it all. Lust trumped embarrassment, Scotty guessed.

He wasn’t sure why he was surprised, but the minute clothing got involved, suddenly Aiden’s skills went south. He was still good enough — and Scotty’s friends drunk enough — that a lot of clothing had been lost all around the table. Still, Aiden had fared worst of all, and had only his briefs remaining. He lost them a hand later. 

“No backing out,” Dennis slurred. He was red-faced and leering at Aiden.

“I’m a man of my word,” Aiden laughed, but it wasn’t the playful laugh he usually had. This was low and sexy, and Scotty frowned hearing it.

Aiden turned his back to them when he stood to remove that last piece of clothing. He slid the briefs down his long legs slowly and tossed them onto the table. 

He must be a good dancer, Scotty thought, intrigued by how graceful Aiden was undressing. The knot in Scotty’s chest grew and worsened at the sight of Aiden’s pale ass, the deep dimples made by muscle and strength.

Buck’s eyes darted from the briefs to the curves of Aiden’s ass and back again. Dennis, however, was baldly staring only at Aiden.

“What a shame,” Aiden sighed. “My luck took a turn for the worse.”

Scotty had felt uncertain when the clothing first started coming off. Now he was more uncomfortable and nervous than ever. Aiden had lost on purpose to have this happen. And he had lost on purpose while Scotty was sitting right here. As if reading his mind, Aiden looked over his shoulder at him, but the look on his face was impossible for Scotty to figure out.

He didn’t know what happened next. Should he leave? Did Aiden want him to stay? 

And Aiden fully naked was a pretty clear sign that the game was over and that other games were about to begin. What would Scotty do then? 

Dennis sat back in his chair and seemed suddenly sober, his eyes sharp and hungry as they took in Aiden’s body. “Come here,” he said, and Aiden obliged. One long leg lifted, and then Aiden was straddling Dennis’ lap. Dennis wasn’t shy: he immediately lifted his hips and pressed his obvious erection up against Aiden’s ass. Aiden gave a contented sigh. Then he leaned forward and licked up the side of Dennis’ face in a slow, wide, wet, swipe. 

Dennis’ hands flew up, caught Aiden’s narrow waist, and held fast. Aiden moaned when Dennis kissed him, and Buck made some appreciative noises, watching from the sidelines eagerly.

“Me, too,” Buck complained. Aiden either trusted his own balance or trusted the strength of Dennis’ arms, for he leaned sideways extremely, and tilted his head back for Buck who ducked down and kissed him upside down. It was a messy kiss with teeth clacking and a lot of tongue. 

Scotty was flustered and confused, but at least he knew when it was time to get going. He stood quietly, and was about to leave, when Aiden suddenly stopped kissing Buck, looked back at him and said, “Stay.”

It was a simple command. An easy one to disobey. 

Scotty stayed. He sat back down and watched it all unfold, watched Aiden’s body unfold onto the table — long and elegant — when Buck and Dennis worked in tandem to lift him there and push him down. In mere minutes Aiden was stretched out right before Scotty’s eyes like a feast; he was on his back, legs high and spread, squirming from all the things Dennis and Buck were doing to him. Buck’s head was buried between Aiden’s legs, and Aiden was twisting at the sensations. 

Dennis started out leaning over Aiden, kissing him deeply and playing with his nipples, but then he shifted back and away. His lips were wet and red. He undid his fly and pulled out his cock, jerked it like he couldn’t help himself. Scotty had a shocked moment seeing Dennis’s dick out of context like this. Not in the locker room after a game. Not skinny dipping as kids. But here, now, hard and leaking, ready to fuck.

With a strong hand, Dennis caught Aiden’s head and turned it to the side. He squeezed Aiden’s face until Aiden’s mouth opened, then he shuffled forward. Immediately Aiden was licking the slick head of Dennis’ cock. He lifted one hand and held Dennis’ cock gently as he took the head between his lips and made wet sucking noises. Then Buck did something to him, because Aiden gasped around the cock in his mouth and pulled back. 

“Oh, yes,” he breathed. Buck lifted his head smiling, stuck out his tongue and waggled it wildly. 

“I’m a man of many talents,” he said breathlessly, then lowered his head again, and Scotty finally understood exactly what Buck was doing with his tongue to Aiden. 

Aiden who had gone back to Dennis’ cock, only now he was rocking his head and shoulders back and forth, his stomach muscles straining to hold his body that way, and how strong was this guy?

Dennis suddenly buried his hands in the back of Aiden’s hair and guided his head forwards and back at the speed he wanted. “Take it,” he groaned. And Aiden didn’t miss a beat or gag.

‘His mouth is a miracle,’ Buck slurred in his memory, and Scotty got the idea of how and why right then.

Scotty was clutching the arms of the chair, frozen in place, his fingers bloodless. Sometimes Buck or Dennis looked at him, but it was just to smile lewdly and say something like, “Can you believe this guy?” 

Dennis proved a little more vocal the longer and harder he took Aiden’s mouth.

“Watch him suck me off, Scotty. Scotty. Yeah. Watch me, Scotty. Watch me fuck his mouth,” Dennis begged, his eyes intense and unfathomable as they stared at Scotty.

The knot in Scotty’s chest clenched at the sound of his name from Dennis’ mouth like that. 

And Buck, true to form, even said, “God, don’t you want to try him, Scotty? Even just a little?”

They didn’t seem to think this strange somehow, and maybe it was the booze, but the three of them had never even been on dates together, and now this? It was beyond belief. 

Buck straightened now and undid his own fly. “Can you take it like this?” he asked Aiden, who had to stop sucking Dennis’ cock long enough to answer, “Yes. Go slow.”

“Yeah,” Buck said, but the look on his face said he wasn’t going to. 

He was such a big guy and his cock was impressive. Scotty had played football with Buck in high school, too, so he’d seen his ridiculous cock way too many times. Granted, he’d never seen it erect and dark with blood. He’d never seen it about to get shoved into a male hooker, either.

Buck hefted the thing in one hand and lined it up with an eager look in his eyes. Scotty didn’t watch. Instead, he turned to look at Aiden’s face. It was calm and beautiful, but then it contorted and his whole body arched. He cried out and his right arm flailed, flashing right before Scotty’s face. Close enough that he felt the breeze of it on his skin.  

Buck started pounding into him energetically, and Aiden rode it out, curled up and used on the table. He kept one hand on Dennis’ cock, but he seemed incapable of doing more than jerking it unrhythmically, what with Buck turning him inside out on each thrust. Buck forced Aiden’s hips higher, held him in place to fuck him harder. It was like watching a kid play with a doll how Buck moved Aiden’s long legs where he needed them; spread them wide and gripped Aiden’s ankles fiercely.

Aiden made these pained little, “Ah, ah, ah,” sounds, and the sturdy table was rocking. His head lolled to the side, towards Scotty, and right then their eyes met. Scotty’s mouth fell open dumbly. He didn’t know what he must look like to Aiden, watching like a creep at some porn theater as Aiden gave up his body for profit to his best friends. He felt like a monster. 

Aiden was still beautiful. Even more beautiful. Fucked out and used hard, he was the most gorgeous thing Scotty had ever seen. 

Aiden blinked rarely, watching him watch him. He was still making those sounds, “Ah, ah, ah,” but they weren’t painful-sounding now. Those little cries were in pleasure. Somehow Aiden liked how Buck fucked him all rough and graceless. 

Or maybe he liked how Scotty watched Buck fuck him.

The surreal moment ended when Dennis caught Aiden’s face again, turned it back to his crotch, and drove his cock deep into Aiden’s open mouth. 

It was like someone closing a spell book. The trance-like fixation was over as quickly as it began.

Scotty’s body moved on its own, taking him from the room and away. His legs must have decided that his eyes had seen enough. His feet must have worried that his ears had heard too much. Aiden had told him to stay, but enough was enough.

He hurried away, focused on the night noises outside instead of the grunts and groans and moans from Buck, Dennis and Aiden.

Upstairs, he changed into pajamas and turned off the lights. His mind needed distractions, so he tried to remember commercial jingles. 

Plop, plop, fizz, fizz,” he sang to himself in the darkness. He stared at the ceiling as he sang for a time, but vivid movies played up there if he stared too long. Fresh memories, really. So he closed his eyes instead, forced himself to see nothing instead of…

‘Watch him suck me off, Scotty.’

When he ran out of commercials, he tried to remember all the gifts in order from the ‘Twelve Days of Christmas.’

“Is it nine ladies dancing? Or is it nine lords a-leaping? Maybe nine was for the drummers?” And a little while after that, “How many pipers? I don’t know. No idea. The only one I know for sure is five gold rings.”

Next he counted sheep. Then he counted backwards from one thousand.

Nothing got the image of Aiden watching him out of his mind.


Sex on the table seemed to have opened a door the following day. Dennis and Buck were obviously bored with having Aiden on a bed now that they’d had a threesome on a table. They must have had a look at the furniture around the house and seen endless possibilities.

All the secret dalliances from before flew out the window far too quickly in Scotty’s estimation. Now he tripped over Aiden getting fucked all over the house.

The first time was when he came downstairs to get breakfast and found Aiden pushed down over the kitchen island, being fucked vigorously from behind by Dennis, who had his fingers wedged into Aiden’s wet, red mouth. Spit and who knew what else was dripping down Aiden’s chin, and he was crying out with each thrust. His glasses were sliding off his face and crooked, and it gave the impression that he’d been assaulted, forced down, and made to take it. Aiden was braced on his elbows on the counter, and Scotty tried not to notice that one of his fine, silk neckties was binding his wrists. There was an open bottle of olive oil on the counter and Scotty wondered if it had been used.

“Oh, Scotty, hi,” Dennis panted. To Aiden he said, “Oh, you’re so good, baby. Squeeze me. Yeah. Show Scotty how you take it.” His free hand came up and his fist sank into Aiden’s fine, honey hair, jerking his head up and back. Those fashionable glasses tumbled to the counter and then onto the floor.

Scotty held his breath. His eyes locked with Aiden’s, and for so many endless moments he watched as Aiden was taken hard, a proper whore, eyes wet with tears, mouth gasping around the fingers thrusting into his mouth. Scotty wondered if Dennis was fucking Aiden to the rhythm of Scotty’s own heartbeat. 

He fled. Again.

He abandoned the idea of food from the main kitchen. He slid on the first pair of his shoes he came across and, still in his pajamas, trekked across the grounds over grass wet from sprinklers he’d heard kick on at sunrise. The kitchen in the guesthouse was stocked with all the same kinds of goods as the main kitchen, and Scotty hid out for a long time, trying to vacuum and dump the image of Dennis’ enthusiastic thrusting and grunting from his mind; the tie around Aiden’s wrists.

The cereal he shoved into his mouth tasted like nothing at all. 

As the day dragged on, his luck only worsened. He ran into Aiden sucking Buck off on his way to the theater. They had perhaps been heading to the theater, but hadn’t made it that far. Now Scotty had to turn the vacuum on his own ears to get rid of the sound of Buck praising Aiden while he slammed his cock deep into his throat.

“God, you can take it all. Don’t stop. Swallow this time, too. Wanna see you drink my cum.”

In fact, Scotty kept running into his friends taking advantage of Aiden’s charms wherever he went. It was bad enough that at one point Aiden stopped riding Dennis’ cock on the floor of the living room to say with a smile, “Are you looking for us, handsome?” 

His voice was affected, clearly the voice of a man taking a break from rigorous fucking.

His knees were red from straddling Dennis on the ground, and his nipples had obviously been bitten and looked irritated. He was something from a porno, gently rocking back and forth with Dennis’ cock forced deeply inside his guts.

“Denny, there are dozens of bedrooms!” Scotty shouted. “Use one of them! This is a living room!”

“Don’t listen to him,” Dennis contradicted. “He wants to watch me fuck you. Ride my cock, baby.”

Aiden leaned low and did just that, exhaling on an exaggerated moan that Scotty was pretty sure was for his ears, not Dennis’. Especially since Aiden turned his head to watch him as he did it. His expression was a mystery.

It must be fun to mess with the straight boy, he thought sourly as he rolled his eyes and stomped back to his room to change into some workout shorts and a sleeveless shirt. Burning off some anger in the gym was exactly what he needed. He lifted heavier than he normally would, ran himself into the ground on the treadmill, and pulverized the punching bag. 

Aiden was there, no matter how hard he punched.

“This vacation sucks,” he said to his reflection in the bathroom mirror after his shower. He stayed in his room and watched reality TV after his exhausting workout, but the movie he saw in his head was Aiden doing his job with such skill that both Dennis and Buck were mad for him.

Maybe a swim would do him good. Yeah, he’d just showered, but his head wasn’t on straight. He needed clarity and the pool could give him that — wash away all the confusion and panic. He grabbed a towel, changed clothes again, and headed downstairs.

Of course. Why would his luck change?

Dennis was fucking Aiden from behind on the sofa while Buck watched from the loveseat, slowly jacking himself off as if waiting his turn. Aiden was bent over the arm of the couch with his ass high, and his arms braced to hold his body up for the pounding it was getting. Dennis was thrusting in that same graceless rhythm from breakfast, and Scotty suddenly had questions about technique. Aiden was paid to like it, but did he? Could he? Scotty imagined Dennis as a wild dog in heat, just wanting to rut with something. 

But Aiden made noises like he liked it, wanted more, harder, deeper. Suddenly tired of spectating, Buck moved to the sofa and sprawled onto his back. He put his big feet on the arm of the sofa right by Aiden’s stiffened arms, then scooted forward so his cock was right beneath Aiden’s panting mouth.

Buck’s legs were all bunched up to make the threesome work, but it did work. Aiden dropped to his elbows and lowered his head. Buck was as vocal as ever. He started praising every lick and suck to the head of his cock that Aiden could manage, what with all the pounding and jerking and crying out going on. He thrust up awkwardly for more, making his ass and thighs flex dramatically.

Scotty watched for too long, his eyes trained on the reddened skin of Aiden’s ass, the flexing of his feet on the ground, how his muscles tensed and his fingers dug hard into the upholstery. His cock must be trapped against the arm, Scotty thought. When he came, he’d paint the fabric in white. The image was so vivid in Scotty’s mind, it was like it was happening, though nobody had come yet or seemed particularly interested in coming. This was a marathon fuck, and how did his friends have the energy for that after days of fucking?

Dennis and Buck didn’t seem to see him, or didn’t care one way or the other. They were lost, addicted to Aiden. Just completely lost. 

Scotty fought not to sigh, and headed for the sliding doors that led to the pool. He stepped over a few piles of clothing and countless empty bottles of beer on the way. He stopped.

The pile of clothing at his feet was a wreck of bespoke threads and fabrics. Twisted up beneath a jet-black waistcoat was a pair of silk briefs the color of granite. Dennis didn’t own anything that nice, even with his flashy cash; Buck had cotton boxers with sports team logos all over them.

These belonged to Aiden; silk briefs for a silken man. A wild urge overcame him. Scotty glanced quickly over his shoulder. None of the boys fucking on the couch were paying any attention to him at all. He swooped down, grabbed the briefs, and shoved them into the pocket of his beach shorts. He hurried away. 

He was as nervous as someone trying to cheat a casino, and what was that about? They were just briefs. It didn’t mean anything. Or that was what one part of his brain said as he ran away. The rest of his brain was more honest: they were briefs that belonged to a high-priced whore. A male whore. It meant plenty that he’d taken them.

The fight in his brain continued. I’m straight! The straightest! he thought, only to be reminded, ‘You certainly liked watching him take it up the ass,’ by the honest, vicious part of his mind.

He lounged by the pool for long hours, watched the water ripple, and felt no urge to take a swim. Occasionally, his hand would reach for his pocket, just checking that they were still there. Those briefs. Aiden’s briefs. There was probably a normal explanation for it — they were silk and maybe silk kept heat in a weird way? He’d never owned anything silk so he didn’t know — but his whole thigh felt hot, like the briefs were still warm from Aiden’s long, beautiful body. 

Aiden would pull them on straight from the package, slip them up his long legs like a dancer putting on tights. Reach into the front and adjust himself, make the line lie just so. And customers who couldn’t wait would just push the fabric to the side, fondle his cock and balls without even taking the things off him. 

Scotty stood suddenly, left most of his stuff by the pool and went back inside. He looked left and right. Nobody fucking on the couch. Nobody fucking in the kitchen. Nobody was around and it was a miracle. He bolted for his room, threw open the door, and locked it clumsily. He was breathing hard like he’d robbed a convenience store. 

The bed in this room was a ridiculous four-poster bed like in the movies. Like the kind Scrooge McDuck had in Mickey’s Christmas Carol. A complete joke of a bed. He hurried to it now, one hand shoved into his pocket, rubbing his fingers over the shimmering material. He pulled out Aiden’s briefs and very carefully unrumpled them, then laid them flat on the bed and smoothed them out.

“There,” he said, like he was a clerk who had just organized a messy display at an American Eagle or something. “That’s nice. They’re nice.”

His hands stilled as he thought. Is this what he’d wanted when he took them? Just to make them pretty and perfect again? Undo all that Denny and Buck had done to them? To Aiden? Scotty didn’t think so. No…

He undid all his work by fisting the tiny things — ridiculous underwear for a ridiculous man — and shoved them to his nose, inhaling the smell of him. There was fragrance: something musky and mellow all at once. There was Aiden’s own smell, too: sweat and skin and cum. 

Scotty whimpered. He felt like an idiot — smelling some stranger’s briefs and sporting a stiffy. 

Scotty dropped his hand and his eyes went wide.

God, he was hard, he realized dumbly. 

The news came as something of a shock to him. He’d wanted the briefs. He’d wanted to touch them and smell them, but hadn’t realized that was why. Now there was undeniable proof that he’d taken them because he wanted to do…things. Was it wrong?

Did it matter? It wasn’t like he was touching Aiden. It was just his pretty clothing, which was miles and miles different.

So Scotty stopped thinking about it. 

He climbed onto the bed, flopped onto his back, gracelessly pushed up onto the balls of his feet, and thrust up his hips to drag his shorts down. He tossed them away, and then he was free, his unexpected erection curved high and hot. He pressed the briefs to his face, closed his eyes, and imagined Aiden, taking it up the ass in the kitchen; sucking Buck’s dick on the couch; all red and breathless while Denny rammed into him, grunting like a beast.

“Aiden,” he whispered, then pressed his lips together like he could take it back just by wishing. It wasn’t due to worry that anyone would hear him. It was something else that made him fight not to say the man’s name aloud like this. 

His hesitance was only temporary. Seconds later he was kissing the silk as his other hand drifted to his cock. He was fully hard now, and was pretty sure this wasn’t going to take long. He was already halfway there, his mind and senses filled with the smell of Aiden. The memory of his body. 

“Aiden,” he moaned, not caring this time, just letting the name pour out of him. His hand wasn’t enough, though. He slowly moved the briefs down his neck, imagined covering himself with the smell of Aiden. What if he smelled like Aiden because Aiden was covering him instead? Draping his long body over him and looking at him like he wanted it? He’d flirt with him like he flirted with Dennis; look up at him from beneath his long lashes.

Scotty continued the slow move of the silk down his hot skin; over his nipples, down to his belly button, and then lower.

He gasped at the first touch of silk on his cock. He crushed the fabric in his fist around the hardness, jerked up and down roughly, loving the drag of the silk over his skin. He shouted through his release. It kept coming, rope after rope of seed, and how long had it been? Not that long, surely. This was something else. 

The silence was complete after all his ruckus.

He let his hands fall away from his softened cock, and he lay there feeling weak and spent. He was worn out. 

His hand clenched and unclenched on the damp silk at his side. He didn’t know if he was embarrassed or not. Was he pitiful for jerking it to a male prostitute? Stealing his underwear and jerking off into them?

Somewhere, from the back of his mind, he could hear Dennis laughing. ‘That’s our Scotty: he never figures anything out unless he gives it a try.’

Well, score one for the Show Me State, Scotty thought weakly.

The questions kept spinning in his brain, and he didn’t know the answers. All he knew was that he was never going to be able to look Aiden in the eye again. He’d just have to avoid him during the day.

Avoid him during the day, and masturbate to the idea of him at night, his mind suggested. This time, he didn’t argue.


His grand scheme to avoid Aiden failed at the first. It happened when he was sneaking into the kitchen late at night to grab a snack. He’d heard Denny and Buck totter off to bed half-an-hour earlier, and had been certain one or both of them would have taken Aiden along as their own late-night snack. The kitchen should have been empty.

Scotty rounded the corner and pulled up short. Aiden was perched on a stool at the island (god, he’d been fucked bent over that island) in a bathrobe, long legs crossed and to the side as he nibbled on a plate of grapes, almonds, cheeses, and delicate little crackers. 

Aiden had been on Scotty’s ceiling all night. He was why Scotty couldn’t sleep, and it was a bit unsettling to see him now. Especially after taking his briefs and…well…

“Uh,” Scotty said. “Sorry.” He realized suddenly that his snack-based luck was pretty bad and that he should reconsider his eating habits. He turned to go, but Aiden stopped him.

“I don’t bite unless requested. Come keep me company.”

“Um. Okay,” Scotty managed, definitely not thinking about Aiden biting him. He could have refused and left, but did he really want to? Aiden looked so pretty.

Scotty moved to take the stool farthest away from Aiden, but Aiden patted the stool right beside him persuasively, and Scotty reluctantly did as asked. Someone had gathered up all the beer bottles Dennis and Buck had consumed, and placed them neatly on the counter. Scotty was certain it had been Aiden. He looked to the man in question and found himself being studied.

“You know, I do like talking to you, darling. Our conversations are brief, but charming,” Aiden said with an open smile. Scotty believed him, too, if only because he was certain even a hooker got tired of fucking sometimes. And Dennis was a rough fuck, and Buck’s cock was an enormous monstrosity. Talking to someone as dull and awkward as Scotty probably seemed like a holiday after Buck and Dennis.

“Oh. Huh,” Scotty muttered. “Sure.” He stared at his hands. What else could he do?

Aiden suddenly sighed. His expression turned serious. “Look. You seem really uncomfortable about all this. About me. It’s going to be a long week if we can’t even be civil with each other. You being odd-man out? That was never my intention. I’m paid to make people feel good. When I asked you to stay and watch the other night, it was sincerely meant. Because, well. It’s not my place to say, and I might be reading this wrong, but…you know it’s okay to find me attractive, right? It doesn’t make you gay.”

Scotty looked up quickly, his eyes wide and terrified. “I…I,” he tried, but nothing coherent came out. He had to get out of here.

“Shh, it’s fine,” Aiden said. He laid one hand over Scotty’s hand where it had moved to push himself up and away to safety. Out of here. Away from Aiden. Anywhere else but here. “Stay. Please. Listen: you can like what you like. This is a judgement-free zone, deal?”

Scotty hesitated. “Deal,” he said at last.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Scotty shook his head. “No.” After swallowing loudly, he tried again. “Yes. Maybe?”

Aiden nodded. “Right. Okay. It’s complicated, I get it. We’ll start small. Did you like watching me on the table with your friends? Or any of the times you saw me having sex with them today?”

Scotty looked at his hand, at where Aiden’s laid atop it, paler and manicured — as lovely as the rest of him. His hand was soft and warm, and Scotty didn’t know if he wanted him to move it or not. What would Aiden say if he knew Scotty had held his briefs in that very hand; jacked off to the smell and feel of them with that very hand?

He forced himself to drop those thoughts and answer Aiden. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen something like that before. Not even on TV.”

“I suppose not. They don’t ever show anything that good for free. Paid TV only.”

“Ha,” Scotty tried.

“I wanted you to like it,” Aiden admitted, and his voice was that purr of his, the sound of it gripping Scotty’s insides in a vice-grip. 

“Uh,” he said stupidly.

Aiden shifted closer. “You can tell me. Did you like it?”

Scotty swallowed heavily. “I liked…some of it,” he admitted. “Don’t ask me what!” he added when Aiden’s pretty mouth parted to ask just that. 

Aiden’s mouth snapped shut and he smirked. “No fun.” He sighed dramatically. “I guess I’ve given you the third degree enough. But now that you’ve admitted it, let me just say, that it’s fine to feel that way. I’ve been in the game for years. Straight guys get off looking at me all the time. Some even fuck me. They come, and then go back to their wives. It’s normal. Sexuality isn’t some spreadsheet where you pop in the right values and get an answer. Girls in this column and boys in that one. Straight over here, gay over there? That’s not how it works. Write your name in the column you like.”

It was quite a little speech, Scotty decided. Perhaps practiced, even. It also gave a lot of credibility to Dennis’ proclamation that — as far as a man like Aiden was concerned — nobody was that straight. There was some comedy to it in a way. Scotty was just one more straight guy dazzled by Aiden’s light. So where did that leave him? What was he?

He shook his head miserably. “It’s…hard to think that way after all these years.” 

Aiden patted his hand. “I understand. I get that. But just believe me: it’s not a problem if you like to watch me. Far from it. It’s not even a problem if you like to watch me fuck your friends. We never have to do anything. I’ll never touch you if you don’t ask me to. You can enjoy the show and still be as straight as an arrow the morning after. Just like you are now. So…are we okay?”

Scotty tried to process all that Aiden had said. The guy was older than him and smarter and definitely more experienced with everything. He understood the world and all the variety of people it contained. All Scotty had to do was try a little to understand and he’d be okay. He could behave like a human around Aiden instead of a creepy stalker if he took the man’s words to heart and just calmed down. He wanted to believe Aiden so badly that he told himself he did.

“Yeah, we’re okay. I won’t be…weird around you anymore. Or I’ll try not to be.”

Aiden squeezed his hand and smiled. “That’s good. It’s a start.”

“Yeah. Good,” Scotty said. Slowly, he pulled his hand away from Aiden’s, but Aiden was quick; he reached out, caught his hand, and threaded their fingers together. The sensation was curious to Scotty, like a tingling under his skin, a pulse he felt in his fingertips. He studied their joined hands and the knot in his chest tightened. “I don’t get you. This.” 

He hadn’t said much, but Aiden seemed to understand. He laughed, then shrugged. “Perhaps I can’t help myself.”

And Scotty was just about to ask, “What do you mean?” when Buck stomped into the kitchen looking half-dead and hungover. 

Aiden snatched his hand away before Buck had a chance to see it holding Scotty’s. Scotty looked at him with curiosity, but Aiden’s face was unreadable. Nobody, least of all Buck, would ever suspect what they’d been talking about. 

“My head is killing me. It’s like an early-onset hangover. I didn’t even sleep that long.” 

Stumbling around the kitchen and looking for pain medicine, Buck was a one-man conversation killer. Scotty looked to Aiden who looked back at him with a wry expression. 

“Well, goodnight,” Aiden said.

“Yeah. Goodnight.” 

Alone in his room, Scotty stared at his hand, wondering why it still felt like it was tingling. 


After another night of rough sleep, Scotty was down for breakfast early. Disappointment smacked him the face when Aiden wasn’t sitting pretty in a bathrobe nibbling on cheese when he rounded the corner. So Scotty sat on the stool facing the living room eating an apple, waiting to see if Aiden might join him. Hoping, really. It was Dennis who rolled in instead a little bit later. He handled hangovers better than Buck, and seemed better than he had rights to after the night’s revelry. There were a lot of empties on the counter from last night.

“Mornin’,” Dennis greeted his friend, looking around with eyes that were squinched up like he was gazing through a fog. 

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Scotty laughed.

“Say that a little more quietly,” Dennis complained as he began searching for painkillers with much more coordination than Buck had managed last night.

Buck lumbered into the kitchen only ten minutes later, his whole body moving like a saggy mattress filled with rocks. 

“Coffee,” he groaned.

Vicious glares were aimed at Aiden — from both of Scotty’s hungover friends — when he strolled into the kitchen looking like a fashion plate. Everything he wore was so spotless Scotty assumed dust just stayed away out of respect. 

“It’s not fair,” Buck was heard to murmur.

“I see whispering is in order,” Aiden said sympathetically. 

“See? Aiden gets it,” Dennis grumbled, downing a handful of painkillers and scowling at Scotty.

“You poor thing,” Aiden said. He unbuttoned his blazer, and settled onto the stool he’d occupied the night before. Even that was done with such grace that Scotty again wondered about Aiden dancing. Had he been trained to move this way? 

“My watch hasn’t chimed even once,” Aiden said, and even Scotty could tell he was poking fun.

“I’m too wasted to fuck. But you can be my teddy bear ‘cuz I’m going back to bed,” Buck said. 

“In this suit? I’ll wrinkle,” Aiden said, and held out his arms to display his impeccable fashion choices. 

“You could take it all off. I won’t even stop you,” Buck said. It was mildly impressive that he was still a horndog even hungover.

“Off you go,” Aiden said, shooing him with smooth flicks of his wrists. 

Instead of protesting, Buck took his heavy mattress-walk back out of the kitchen and upstairs, clearly ready to sleep for several more hours. 

Dennis yawned hugely. “Sleep sounds good,” he admitted. “You two good?” he asked, looking between Scotty and Aiden.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Scotty said, then looked to Aiden and asked, “Do you, like, want to…go for a walk or something?” He even surprised himself with the invitation, but it didn’t feel wrong. 

“Well…certainly,” said Aiden with a thoughtful expression only softened by his welcoming smile.

The curious look on his face was hardly unexpected, but Scotty didn’t know what to do with the strange, suspicious look that Dennis gave him. 

“A walk, huh?” he muttered, but didn’t stick around for Scotty’s reply, leaving Scotty and Aiden alone in the kitchen with the weight of Scotty’s invitation hanging over them.

So they went for a walk. Or something.

Outside, Aiden wore fashionable shades against the bright glare of sunlight. Scotty had forgotten his and squinted every which way he looked. The grounds hid a few surprises that he had missed completely. 

“Aren’t you lucky that I know this place very well?” Aiden asked before leading Scotty to a gazebo nestled in a grove of lush trees. 

“No joke. But why is that?” Scotty wondered. “This thing is great. It’s a gazebo?” It was cool and shady inside the structure, and Scotty’s eyes were relieved to be out of full sunlight. 

“Yes, a nice one, too. The owners of this estate have particularly good taste. And I’ve known them for years, which is why I know this place like the back of my hand.”

Curiosity tapped Scotty on the shoulder. “Them?” he asked. Answers were out of his reach, however.

“Now, now,” Aiden scolded. “Ever heard of an NDA?”

Scotty shook his head. “What’s that?”

“A non-disclosure agreement. N-D-A. My services are provided by an agency. All the employees of that agency operate under an NDA. In short: my lips are always sealed. Contractually sealed.”

It was unusual to think of Aiden as an employee, one with contracts and rules to follow; just a guy with a job. An unusual job, but a job nonetheless. 

“So you’ll never tell anyone about me or Dennis or Buck?”

Aiden stepped close to him, his expression open. “Not a soul, handsome.”

This close, Scotty could smell him, the sensual fragrance Aiden wore. It wasn’t overpowering, but it was distracting. So much of Aiden was distracting, especially in this magical, hidden spot — alone together in a gazebo like something from a romantic movie.

Scotty swallowed. “What’s it like, doing what you do? Are you unhappy?”

An indifferent shrug was Aiden’s reply. “It’s just a job. Though it is one I enjoy more often than not. And I’m extremely good at it.” The word extremely was dragged out and teased in a particular way that put ideas in Scotty’s head.

So this is what they mean when they say ‘mesmerized,’ Scotty thought. He couldn’t look away from Aiden’s eyes.  

“What are you thinking when you look at me like that?” Aiden said suddenly, his voice a whisper, as if he feared shattering the moment by speaking too loudly. 

The horror of not being in control of his expression tied Scotty’s tongue up into knots. His mother was in his ear again, scolding him for his manners. “I’m sorry for staring,” he stuttered. 

“So polite,” Aiden laughed. “I’m used to people staring at me. No need to apologize. I can admit to curiosity though: I really want to know what’s on your mind.”

Scotty carelessly lifted his shoulders then let them drop, defeated by his own feelings and mind. “I dunno. You’re beautiful,” he said weakly. “I guess I like looking at you. That’s weird for me.”

“Flatterer,” Aiden said, obviously pleased. “Tell me more. Don’t stop.” His whole long body seemed to be listening eagerly. 

Scotty let himself laugh. It helped break the tension. “I, uh, like your eyes. I’ve never seen green eyes like that before. You have pretty lips.” I want to watch you dance, he didn’t say.

“Mm-hm. Continue.”

“Geez. A girl would have let me buy her a drink by now,” Scotty complained, and playfully scratched the back of his head.

“The girls you know don’t cost what I cost, baby,” Aiden said. He lowered his lashes, and the look was photo-shoot perfect. 

Sultry was the word Scotty’s mind provided. He was feeling hot and overwhelmed. Aiden was definitely flirting with him.

“I can’t figure you,” Scotty admitted, helplessly. “I get what you said about spreadsheets or whatever. But you know I’m straight. The flirting isn’t gonna get you anything.”

“You can’t blame a girl for trying,” Aiden purred, stepping closer. 

Scotty tried to rally his brain cells to action. Aiden was doing that thing again, flitting back and forth between masculine and feminine like it was an easy game, and it made Scotty squirm.

“I mean…is this some kind of…turning-a-straight-boy-gay fantasy or something?” he asked.

Aiden rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s a turning-a-straight-boy-gay fantasy. Don’t be daft. Now, where were we? Oh, right, here.” With one graceful motion, he caught Scotty’s hand and twined their fingers together.

“Okay?” he asked, making Scotty nod his head quickly. He was dull and dumb and putty, and Aiden could mold him however he liked. 

“Good. Let me enjoy this before Dennis pulls me away from you.”

Scotty’s whole hand was tingling again, and the sensations ping ponged back and forth from shoulder to fingertip. “He does like to hog you,” he whispered.

“That’s not what I meant,” Aiden contradicted him, swinging their arms together, and dragging him along as he marched out of the gazebo and towards a well-tended garden of potted flowers and colorful vines.

“Uh, what did you mean?” Scotty asked stupidly, too distracted by the feel of Aiden’s hand to focus well.

“That’s not my secret to tell,” Aiden explained. 

Scotty sighed. “Why do I always feel two steps behind when I’m talking to you?” 

But Aiden just laughed another one of his mirthful laughs. “Darling, it’s because you are.”


They couldn’t stay out forever, so eventually they returned to the house, though Scotty could admit that he felt somehow better than he had the whole trip. Almost refreshed. At the door, Aiden released his hand.

“Nice while it lasted,” he said. 

Scotty’s fingers felt cold. “Yeah. Nice,” he muttered, then tried to pull himself together. Bereft of Aiden’s touch, he now had no choice but to focus on the strange fact that he’d enjoyed it at all. In fact, he’d enjoyed his time with Aiden. In particular, he’d enjoyed being the sole recipient of his attention. What that said about him, Scotty didn’t want to think about. He mostly just wanted to enjoy feeling better, the easing of the tension in his chest for once.

The rest of the day was nice, too. Once they sobered up, Dennis and Buck spent some time with Scotty, sharing stupid videos with each other that they cast from their phones to the enormous TV in the den. It didn’t last long. Dennis’ mood soured at some point; the change came quickly, like a switch getting flipped.

“Enjoy your little walk with the hooker?” Dennis asked him over lunch in a weirdly harsh tone, but Scotty put it down to his lingering hangover.

“Yeah,” he said without elaborating. “With Aiden,” he corrected. Dennis’ moods were beyond him sometimes. He was mercurial and complicated. Scotty usually blamed it on Dennis being smart — smartest guy in any room, in fact. Dennis always surprised him, didn’t he? Like how he’d had no interest in football one minute, but was trying out for the team the next. Dennis had dropped out of school without warning; bought a Tesla on a whim. He was that kind of guy. 

A housekeeper came by later in the day, but she was so professional and quiet that her face didn’t betray anything as she tidied up after four boys, three of whom had been having enthusiastic sex on any available surface. Scotty was glad that his room would have, at least, been easy to clean in comparison. 

A few hours into her shift, she walked up to him, a broom in one hand, and the tablet in the other.

“This was under the couch,” she said, holding the tablet out to him. There wasn’t even a hint of censure on her face, and Scotty was pretty sure she found more than the tablet under the couch. What a pro.

“Thanks,” he said, taking it from her.

Something stepped forward in his mind. An idea. An impulse. It was bigger than any other thought in his mind right then; more powerful than the impulse that made him take Aiden’s briefs. He looked down at the tablet and curiosity filled him up from head to toe. Buck had said Aiden did lots of stuff. 

And nobody was around, so he tucked the tablet under his arm, and made for his bedroom. There was nothing else going on, and the sun was going down on what had been a pretty nice day for him. Why not just have a little look? Just to see.

But at his door, he froze.

Even before pushing it open, Scotty knew that something was wrong. A sensation like sucking, black, currents twisted up his palm to his heart and down the minute he touched the door.

He exhaled loudly and shakily, then entered the room. He wasn’t really surprised by what he saw. As silently as he could, he closed the door behind him and waited for the worst.

Aiden looked ethereal before the bedside lamp in the dim room. He was limned in white-gold light, like a Vermeer or a Carravaggio. Scotty had taken an art history class to meet girls, but some of it had stuck and, yeah, there Aiden was: a painting. A masterpiece. Dread clawed its way up Scotty’s throat. In the amber glow of the lamp, it was clear that Aiden was holding his silken briefs. He turned to fully face Scotty.

“I’ve been looking for these,” he said in a low voice. “Let’s just see…” He brought the silk to his nose, and it was happening in slow motion to Scotty, like a tragic scene in a movie. 

Scotty took a shaky step forward, and raised the hand that wasn’t holding the tablet as if to stop him. “Wai — ” he tried, but after all, what could he say?

Aiden inhaled deeply. “Mm,” he intoned. “My, my.”

Embarrassed wasn’t a strong enough word for what Scotty felt then. He was mortified. He was frozen in shame. 

Aiden lowered the briefs, that tiny scrap of material that had driven Scotty to steal and more. But it was too difficult to even think about what he had done with them, and now Aiden was holding them, touching his shame. He had smelled Scotty on the briefs. 

Aiden crossed his arms, and the posture was confrontational, but Scotty couldn’t see his face properly, had no idea what he was thinking. “I believe, perhaps, you have something to say to me?”

Scotty sputtered. Was it an apology that Aiden wanted? Was he enjoying Scotty’s embarrassment, and wanting to prolong it? Was he sneering at him? Did he think it funny how Scotty had protested and protested that he was straight? 

They’d had such a nice time today — talking in the gazebo, walking hand-in-hand. Now what?

Scotty didn’t know what he was supposed to say, but an apology didn’t form. Something cold and alert spiked through him instead, like a geyser of ice-cold clarity. He locked the door behind him with a quick, precise movement. Flick.

He looked down at the glowing tablet in his hand. It took nothing at all: a simple brush of his fingertip, and then a tap. The tablet chimed his input. Across the room, Aiden’s fancy watch chimed, too. There was a pause, then Aiden lifted his watch and looked at it.

Scotty’s eyes had adjusted to the light by then, and he could see Aiden’s expression. It was surprise that showed on his lovely face. He looked up and stared at Scotty for a pregnant moment.

“You’re requesting services?” he asked quietly. 

Scotty nodded once, afraid to speak.

“Here?” Aiden asked, sounding incredulous.

Scotty nodded again.

“Now?”

“Yes,” Scotty said on a desperate exhale. “Please.”

“A delightful request,” Aiden purred without hesitation, but his expression was neutral. He placed his briefs on the bedside table. “Then I’ll let you keep these. As a souvenir?”

Scotty was pitifully grateful for that, but he couldn’t express his gratitude; could only watch Aiden, waiting to see what he would do with his request.

“Glasses off or on?” Aiden asked.

Scotty closed his eyes, imagining his fantasy. He’d seen Aiden getting fucked by Dennis, glasses on and askew. It had been beautiful. “On,” he said, voice barely steady.  

 “Of course. I’ll use the bed. Where will you be?”

Scotty took a deep breath, then looked around. There was a giant, overstuffed chair beside the wardrobe. As a bonus, there was even an additional lamp that would improve his view of what was about to happen.

He plopped down in the chair, turned on the second lamp, and waited. He could see Aiden so much better now, and he was grateful for everything the light revealed.

The tie came first; a restless jerking movement of Aiden’s graceful fingers had it dangling before his waistcoat. He pulled it free with much more care, held it out gently for Scotty’s eyes to follow, but dropped it to the ground like it was garbage instead of what Scotty knew was an expensive, designer item. Aiden moved to one of the posts at the foot of the enormous bed, legs crossing over each other in a sexy slink on each step. He clutched the post with both hands, then slowly slid his torso down, bending neatly at the waist. His ass was round and firm, the fabric of his tailored slacks pulling tight over the globes. 

Scotty gasped when Aiden opened his mouth wide, then licked his way up the post. He couldn’t help imagining that it was his cock Aiden was licking instead. 

Buck loves his mouth, his tongue, Scotty thought, and clutched his cock hard through his jeans, surprised by himself that he was already hard. Aiden was still fully clothed. How much worse would it be once the striptease really got started? God, he was going to come in his jeans like some dumb teen. He wouldn’t be able to help it.

Scotty watched wide-eyed, blinking infrequently as Aiden pulled himself close to the pole, held himself there with one outstretched arm, then rocked his hips against it several times, like he was fucking the wood. Like he was riding a cock.

It was all rhythmic, like Aiden could hear music, though the only sound in the room was their breathing and the rustle of fabric. He was graceful and filthy, and Scotty never wanted this to end. Aiden turned to face Scotty, and leaned back, resting the center of his broad shoulders on the pole. His hands moved slowly down the buttons of his waistcoat, one elegant flick of his fingers at a time. He pushed free of the pole for a moment to use one hand to drag the item off and toss it away. Then his fingers were sweeping over his body through the fabric of his white shirt with that deadly-sharp starched collar. 

“See?” he asked Scotty in that voice. “Don’t you see that I like it? I want to be dirty for you.” The fingers of his left hand went to his right nipple, and he squeezed and twisted the bud. And Scotty could see how tight and hard his nipples were, how they strained through the fabric of his shirt.

“H-harder,” Scotty begged. “Please.”

“Yes. I like that. I want it so hard that it hurts. Nng,” Aiden gasped. “Oh, it feels good.” 

“The other one,” Scotty demanded. At poker, Dennis had sucked them both; pinched them both. Aiden complied, and now both his hands were busy tormenting his nipples through the sweat-dampened fabric of his shirt. His body twisted and rolled. He loved it.

It still wasn’t enough. “Stop. I want to see you,” Scotty said.

Aiden smiled and obliged. He moved around the post again, graceful like any of the best pole dancers on YouTube that Scotty had jerked off to. He stopped with his back to Scotty, but it was easy to see he was undoing the buttons of his shirt by how his arms moved. One shoulder came free and Aiden’s soft skin was glowing in the lamplight. 

The fabric slithered a caress down the other shoulder. The expanse of his lovely back made Scotty’s fingers twitch. With one hand he clutched the arm of the chair, and the other rubbed at the bulge beneath his jeans. He couldn’t look away from Aiden. When the shirt fell to the floor, Scotty bit his tongue not to moan. 

Aiden’s waist was so small, his shoulders so broad, and his muscles so flawlessly encased by his pale skin. Scotty had a mad moment of imagining his tongue slicking Aiden’s shoulder blades, his teeth nipping at the skin above his pert ass. An ass he got to see seconds later — well, almost. Aiden’s leather belt rested low now, concealing all but the top of the hard muscles. 

Scotty started imagining biting Aiden’s ass like an apple. Would he like that? He seemed to like it a little rough — having his hands tied, letting Buck fuck him without lube (and Scotty was dumb, but he knew enough about gay sex to know lube was better than spit). At Scotty’s request, he’d squeezed his own nipples to where it must have hurt, and he’d liked it. Yes, Aiden liked it rough.

Aiden suddenly whirled, both hands above his head. He gripped the post of the heavy bed with both hands, his wrists close together as if they were tied up, binding him that way like a captive. His slacks were open and the tip of his cock was peaking out, teasing Scotty. Aiden was hard, turned on by the dance. Turned on by Scotty watching him, and the idea was delicious. Scotty had never cared about seeing another man’s cock before, but Aiden was no ordinary man, and Scotty wanted to see more.  

Did Dennis suck Aiden’s cock? Buck? What was it like, having it in your mouth?

Aiden’s knees bent slowly and he lowered his whole body, only to rise again, mimicking the action of being fucked, of having a cock buried inside him. His chest glistened with sweat and his perfect hairstyle was falling over his eyes now, the strands clinging to his glasses as he began thrusting his hips in time to music only he could hear. 

“Please,” Scotty whispered, but Aiden must have heard him. 

His pants slipped down his thighs, and he stepped out of them like a dancer would. His briefs he first tugged left, then right, giving teasing glimpses of his cock beneath the black silk. He sometimes hid his crotch behind both clasped hands, rocking against his fingers in long, suggestive rolls of his body. He stopped the tease at last, leaving all but the leaking tip covered by the briefs. It was driving Scotty mad. 

Through some acrobatic move, Aiden swung around the post, and now he was on the bed, kneeling at the corner, arms stretched out before him as he rocked up and forward into the pole. 

“Ahh,” he said, like he was cresting and ready to spill. “Ah,” he gasped, high and loud, rocking against the post again. “Ah, Scotty.

“Fuck,” Scotty gasped. He struggled with his belt buckle, lifted his ass off the chair clumsily to get free of his jeans, and got his fist into his boxers. His cock was drooling with want. His boxers were already wet and sticky. 

Aiden was rubbing his chest against the post now, catching his nipples — first one, then the other — on the polished wood. 

“I’m so hard for you. I want to come. Make me come,” he said, eyes trained on Scotty. The glare off his glasses caught the light sometimes, hiding his expression, and it was as much a tease as watching him grind his cock into the post, how he made the mattress bob up and down. 

Scotty’s fist was pumping hard. He couldn’t take his eyes off Aiden. “Touch your cock,” he grunted.

Aiden smiled a sexy, knowing smile. He freed one hand while the other continued to grip the post hard. The free hand dipped into his briefs. “Mm,” he sighed. 

“Let me see,” Scotty begged, and Aiden obliged. He stopped teasing himself long enough to hook his thumbs into his briefs. He pushed them down with no haste at all, as if Scotty’s desperate eyes weren’t glued to that place, begging for him to hurry. Scotty licked his lips as Aiden’s slim, erect cock was revealed to him, held loosely in Aiden’s long-fingered hand.

“Tell me how,” Aiden commanded, his voice firm and low. 

Scotty shook his head. “I don’t know what to ask for,” he admitted. His hand slowed on his cock as uncertainty set in. He stroked himself just once, watching Aiden watch him.

“Then show me. You lead, I’ll follow.”

Scotty squeezed his eyes shut. The idea was overwhelming somehow. Aiden would touch himself like Scotty touched himself, and that was almost like they were touching each other, fucking right here on the borrowed four-poster bed. 

He opened his eyes and stroked slowly from base to tip, and marvelled when Aiden did the same.

“It’s good, Scotty,” he whispered. “Show me more.”

Scotty got a better grip and spread his legs a little. Aiden in reply shifted to the side so that only one shoulder was leaned against the post and more of his body — his cock — was visible along with the hand fisting it. Scotty sped his stroke, twisting at the tip roughly. Aiden ducked his head as he did the same.

“I like that, too,” he said, laughing a little breathlessly. “Are you close?”

“Yeah,” Scotty managed. He pumped himself faster, felt like every blood cell in his body was rushing to his cock. “I’m close, Aiden…”

“How pretty…you saying my name like that…mm,” Aiden said, lifting his head and watching him open-mouthed. His expression suddenly contorted. His hand was moving as fast as Scotty’s, matching his speed. “I’m coming!” he shouted, and then jerked, and it was such a pretty sight that Scotty followed him over. He felt his eyes roll back, his vision and mind go fuzzy. 

It took effort to focus. When his vision cleared, Aiden was sprawled on his back on his bed, slowly milking the last of his cum from his softening cock. It was the most erotic thing Scotty had ever seen. 

He didn’t know what to do with the mess, so he clumsily wiped his hand on his knee, then instantly regretted it. Too late now. His feet carried him across the room — he had no control over himself. He leaned against the pole Aiden had been grinding against, and looked down at him.

“Was that enough of a striptease for you?” Aiden asked. He was looking up at Scotty blearily.

“It was amazing,” Scotty said. 

Aiden’s head fell back to the disheveled pillows. “I know it’s on the menu, but you’re the first client to ever request it. Cross my heart. I rather overdid it, I think. Most stripteases don’t end like this.” He held out a hand where his fingers were coated in white.

Scotty stared at his fingers, transfixed. “Can you…?”

Aiden laughed his flirtatious laugh. “My, my. What do they teach you straight boys? Missouri, right? The Show Me State? I’m getting the idea,” he said, but he slowly licked each finger clean, sucked each one into his mouth. As he sucked, his eyes sometimes closed sensually. Then he looked up at Scotty, an invitation and a tease all at once. He put on another show with his mouth, and Scotty was mesmerized again.

Finally, Aiden lowered his hand after one last obscene lick from wrist to fingertips. “Good?” he panted.

“Y-yeah. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Aiden said. He sat up slowly and looked at Scotty. “What happens now? Any additional requests?”

Scotty shook his head. “I dunno.” 

“I’ll be clearer: are you joining me in bed?” Aiden asked. He patted the spot on the bed beside him. His expression was the same as the one he’d worn the night he got fucked on the table, atop a deck of cards with Buck’s cock deep inside his ass. He’d looked at Scotty just like this. What did it mean?

“No,” Scotty said abruptly, his heart speeding and his face heating. That was a step too far. “I don’t think…That is, I’m sorry, I don’t…”

Aiden held up a gentle hand. “That’s fine. It’s fine. Whatever you want. No judgement, remember?”

Scotty exhaled and some of his panic eased. “Thanks. I appreciate it. Uh, everything. You’re something else.”

“A fine compliment, thank you.” Aiden proclaimed, then stood and stretched hugely. He was still showing off — his long legs and his thin, muscled waist all accentuated by the motion. He was a ridiculous, pretty man. He took his time gathering up his clothing and dressing, obviously aware that Scotty was still watching him. When Aiden finished, he came to stand before Scotty.

“We should do this again sometime,” he whispered. “We can play whenever you want. It’ll be our secret. Add it to the list.”

Scotty nodded. But something inside him clenched and tightened. He didn’t want to lie to his friends, but he would. Because he did want this again. He did. He would keep another secret with Aiden.

He was so screwed.


Scotty had a restless night after Aiden left. He woke up at odd times, turned on and confused, and then upset about it all. Aiden had danced in his dreams.

He was learning an uncomfortable truth the hard way: it was one thing to want something in the heat of the moment, and another thing to live with the consequences of what he’d wanted. Dammit, it was the brick wall all over again. Did he never learn?

“I’m straight,” he said to the darkness, then frowned. Why was he so hung up on labels? Aiden had said it was fine. That it didn’t matter. That he could like what he liked and it didn’t change him. He wanted to believe him because if it wasn’t true, then everything he’d thought he’d known about himself was a lie.

He’d given Aiden commands he hadn’t even known he wanted to see obeyed.

‘Touch your cock.’

“He’s beautiful, and it’s okay to like pretty things. I can write my name wherever I want,” he said, staring at his hands. Hands that hadn’t touched Aiden. And that had to count for something, right?

He sighed. If he was straight, he was sure as hell liking pretty gay things. The ceiling was a theater again, and he had lots and lots of b-roll to preview now. He rolled over, pushed his face into his pillow, and then realized that was a mistake: it smelled like Aiden’s soft, honey-blonde hair. 

Sleep was a long way off. 

In the morning, he went to breakfast early. Honestly, he was hoping to see Aiden, but Dennis was there instead. His elbows were on the counter, and he was leaning on them in a youthful slump.

“Hey,” he said. He was drinking a soda, and eating cookies from a bright red package that proclaimed the cookies were ‘Now Low in Fat!’

“You’re up early,” Scotty said. He grabbed a handful of the cookies, and parked his butt on the stool across from Dennis.

“Yeah, got hungry,” Dennis said. “Been burning a lot of calories,” he added and winked. 

The knot in Scotty’s chest throbbed. He didn’t know what his expression was, but Dennis pulled away from him. “Wowza, what’s with that face?” he said.

“What face?” Scotty said. He took an aggressive bite of a cookie.

Dennis frowned. “You look all pissed. What did I say?”

“Nothing.”

“Seriously, what is wrong?”

“I said it’s nothing,” Scotty said, and even he could tell he had snapped. Hell, complete strangers would have been able to tell that he was upset.

Dennis was gawking at him and shaking his head. “I mean…are you mad that I’m sleeping with Aiden?”

“What? No.”

Dennis’ light eyes went wide. “Holy. Shit. Oh my God, that’s it. You’re mad that I’m fucking Aiden. I mean, why?”

“Look, it’s nothing,” Scotty said. “Can we drop it?” He stood and made to leave. If that was the only way to end the conversation, that’s what he would do.

Instead of dropping it, Dennis pressed on. “It’s not nothing. So, what? I mean, are you fucking him? Stealing cookies from the cookie jar when nobody’s looking?” he asked, brandishing a cookie for effect.

“What! No!” Scotty protested. He wasn’t lying. Not exactly.

“Oh, but you want to? Is that it?” Dennis said, not giving Scotty any time to get his bearings, find a strategy, or even think. 

Scotty didn’t know what to say, how to approach this situation. When had this become an interrogation? 

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” And it was apparently Dennis’s turn to snap now. Scotty flinched.

“He’s…he’s just different from anybody I’ve ever met before,” Scotty said. “I feel…different around him. I can’t explain it.” He grabbed a soda and took a big gulp to keep from saying more.

It had taken a lot for Scotty to say even that much, but Dennis didn’t look impressed by his confession. “So now you’re gay, huh?” he asked.

 

“What?” Scotty coughed, choking on that big gulp of soda. He wiped at his watering eyes, and it was several long minutes before he felt like he could speak. “I’m not gay,” was what came out in a painful, strained wheeze. 

“You’re not gay?” Dennis asked condescendingly. “You just want to fuck Aiden. Go for walks with Aiden. Sure! That’s perfectly straight.”

Scotty’s face was hot, and his head was noisy with panic. He chose to attack. “Buck said he didn’t care if I fucked Aiden. I mean, you said nobody was that straight! You brought me along! Why are you so pissed?” he asked instead of dealing with Dennis’ words.

Dennis slammed his hands down. “I’m not pissed. I’m just confused. You spend all these years chasing girls, screwing girls. But a few days around Aiden and you’re suddenly gay? I knew I was gay when I was fourteen. What the hell took you so long, huh?”

“I’m not gay!” Scotty argued, then sighed. He thought for a moment, and tried to frame his answer.

Saying it aloud was strange. Every moment he spent with Aiden, he fell more and more under his spell. Naming it or not naming it, how he felt and what he wanted didn’t seem likely to change. And if Dennis didn’t want to hear it, he shouldn’t have fucking asked.

“I still like girls. But…it’s him, okay? It’s Aiden. It’s everything about him. I like Aiden. I think I want him.”

Dennis’ eyes turned cold like a December breeze. “But not me?” he said, and Scotty suddenly knew what chills felt like. He’d read stories where people got chills; seen it on TV and in movies. But even on the biggest game day, he’d never experienced anything like this: the heart-stopping feeling like he’d been dunked in ice.

“What are you saying?” Scotty whispered. Dennis didn’t answer. He stared at the counter instead. Perhaps he regretted saying what he’d said, or maybe he was trying to calm down. Whatever it was that caused the silence, it lasted for minutes. 

At last, Dennis looked at him, and his expression was open and pained — it said much without Dennis saying anything at all.

“No way,” Scotty protested, denying what Dennis’ look was telling him. “You’re my friend. Quit joking.”

“You think I’m joking?” Dennis said with an acid smirk.

Scotty swallowed. “How long?” he managed, which prompted Dennis to wave a hand at him dismissively. 

“Don’t be so dramatic. I’m not exactly carrying a torch. It’s been years. It’s old news. I moved on. I’m happy just to be your friend. Always just your friend,” he repeated, which Scotty thought somewhat contradicted his words. “What a cliché! Gay crush on your straight best friend? Jesus wept.”

Scotty couldn’t look away, just stared and tried to understand. “I didn’t know,” he said, then flinched at Dennis’ dry scoff.

“You chose not to see, but whatever.”

And that…hurt. Dennis had never spoken to him like this before. “Did Buck know?”

“Buck’s smarter than you give him credit for,” Dennis said with censure in his tone, and Scotty was starting to feel like the bad guy of the story. He was also terribly confused.

“Wait. Let me get this straight: if you’re over it, why does this thing with Aiden bother you?” Asking was probably only going to rile Dennis more, but Scotty found himself very curious. The casual shrug Dennis gave was too practiced to be sincere.

“I guess I just wonder ‘Why him?'” he said, and smiled an empty, battered smile. 

“‘And not me?'” Scotty added unnecessarily. 

Dennis laughed, but there was strain around his light eyes. “Yes. ‘And not me,’ dude. That’s about the size of it. He’s a fucking hooker, Scotty.”

Scotty winced, feeling like he’d been slapped. He didn’t know what to say to that, but he knew that hearing Aiden demeaned upset him. It’s not like it wasn’t true: Aiden was a prostitute. A hooker or whatever. A fucking Professional Mary-Ann. But Dennis was using his services. Had requested his services. He didn’t get to judge.

He had no high ground to stand on.

Scotty rose from his stool. He was done with this. 

“I never led you on. I wanted to be your friend. And me and Aiden? Whatever happens between us has nothing to do with you,” he spat.

He decided to leave, but Dennis got to his feet, hands out and face full of remorse.

“Whoa, whoa, fine. Okay. Whatever. Just chill. We’ll talk about something else. Forget I brought it up. I’m still…hungover. Sure. Just…truce?”

Scotty sat down cautiously, ready for Dennis to pounce. It wasn’t like him to drop something so easily, but maybe this time he was worried enough that he had really capitulated.

“Yeah. Truce.”

“So…did you want to play basketball later?” Dennis asked, but his tone was cautious.

“Yeah, Denny. Sounds good,” Scotty muttered. But he was mad. Mad at himself. Mad at Buck. Mad at and confused by Dennis. 

Scotty disappeared to be alone for as long as he could get away with, thinking about Dennis. About Aiden. He was hiding out like a coward and he knew it, but whatever.

He had to come down to eat eventually and his luck was still no better. He found Aiden, Buck and Dennis on the couch again, and his friends must be the horniest guys on Earth he figured. The three of them were sitting side-by-side with Aiden sandwiched in the middle. Aiden had his hands down Buck and Dennis’ pants, and his shirt open wide for them to caress in turn. 

As Scotty watched, Dennis tugged brutally on Aiden’s nipple, making him hiss and beg, “Softer.”

“No,” Dennis answered, sounding aggressive and cruel.

Scotty was proud of himself for just passing by with hardly a look at all. He didn’t think about exactly how hard Dennis must have pulled on Aiden’s rosy nipple for it to hurt since Aiden liked a little pain. He didn’t think about why Dennis had done it, or what other things he might do to Aiden now.

‘You’re mad that I’m fucking Aiden.’

‘He’s a fucking hooker, Scotty.’

“Fuck you, Denny,” Scotty whispered to himself.

He wasted time playing golf, exercising, and watching a thriller in the theater. Buck joined him halfway through, and he had never been very subtle or sly, so he stared at Scotty instead of the movie screen. Scotty sighed and gave up on finding out whodunnit. 

“What?” he asked, turning to Buck. 

“Uh, we’re just worried about you. Dennis said you kinda freaked out on him.”

Leave it to Dennis to spin the story, Scotty thought bitterly. It was a talent. “I didn’t freak out.”

“Right. Yeah. That’s cool,” Buck tried. It was said so gently for a guy as gruff as Buck, and Scotty had to calm himself. His head was a mess — was he taking it out on his friends? He hadn’t noticed, but he was tense from head to toe. His jaw hurt from clenching his teeth together. He really was a mess.

Buck looked at his hands. “It’s just, you do kinda seem like you’re freaking out. You know Dennis. He, uh, worries about you.”

Scotty sighed. A day ago, Scotty wouldn’t have analyzed those words, but what choice did he have now? Dennis worries about him? ‘Worries’ was doing a lot of heavy lifting in that sentence.

“I know. Honest. I’m fine,” Scotty grumbled.

“That’s great. But, uh, you’ve been acting different. Like…is it Aiden? Did he do something? Uh, to you? He knows you’re straight, and he’s a nice guy. It’s probably just a misunderstanding. If you tell him you’re straight again, he’ll back off, man. Or I could talk to him.”

Scotty was shocked, just shocked. Buck had come to the completely wrong conclusion. He’s never really grown up, Scotty thought suddenly. He never will.

“Aiden hasn’t done anything wrong,” Scotty said and sighed. God, his friends. What was he supposed to do with them? They picked now of all times to worry about him? They hadn’t seemed that worried when they fucked a hooker on a table right in front of him. Now they were all concern? Hilarious.

“Oh, good,” Buck said quietly. “So then what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“I don’t think so. I mean, you…look at him.” Buck let the rest of that hang in the air — the whos and hows and whys of these looks. 

Scotty rubbed heavily at his face. He’d thought he could keep a secret? If he had bet his life on it, he would just be dead. He was just a dumb jock until the end, wasn’t he? The cat was out of the bag and running around big time.

“He’s beautiful,” Scotty blurted. “He’s just so beautiful.”

Buck clapped him on the shoulder, a comforting, understanding gesture. “Yeah, he really is.”

They both watched the movie for a time. The killer was giving away his entire plan to the heroine when Buck finally said, “You know, Denny Boy was right: nobody’s that straight.”

Buck must have had a talk with Dennis about Scotty’s Gay Panic because they were both very cautious around him that evening. There were eggshells all around. Dennis in particular seemed to regret his confession and his outward display of jealousy. He was so accommodating to Scotty it was bizarre.

He kept the conversation light: video games and sports and TV. Scotty appreciated it, but it was still uncomfortable to be around him.

What Aiden knew about it all, Scotty didn’t know. They only had a few days left in this beautiful mansion, and Buck and Dennis were making the most of it, meaning that Scotty didn’t see Aiden as much as he would have liked.

And so, by silent, mutual decision, Scotty and Aiden spent a lot of time together after Dennis and Buck were asleep — long after their marathon rounds of blow jobs and threesomes with Aiden. Nighttime was their time, Scotty thought; his time to be with Aiden.

It was well past midnight, and Scotty was sitting on the couch, feeling pretty comfortable. Aiden was leaning back against one arm (the very arm he’d clung to while getting fucked roughly by Dennis) and his feet were stretched out and resting in Scotty’s lap. It had all happened in a flash, Aiden saying, “Let me get comfy, handsome” and then boom they’d ended up sitting like Scotty used to sit with one of his old girlfriends when they watched TV. He was so nervous that Aiden’s feet would shift and he’d feel what Scotty’s long shirt was hiding. He probably already knew, anyway. Scotty felt like Aiden knew all his secrets. 

“Do Buck and Dennis…?” Scotty started to ask, then stopped himself. Did he want to know if his best friends did it? Was Dennis using Buck to…? And that was the least generous thing he’d ever thought about his friend, so he squashed the thought before he could finish it. He was really starting to feel like the villain here.

Aiden laughed. “What do they teach you straight boys?”

“Apparently nothing,” Scotty muttered embarrassedly.

Aiden studied him, tilting his head from side to side. “Do you really want to know?”

“I’m not sure,” Scotty admitted. Maybe it would be better to know now just in case they kept fucking once vacation ended.

“Think fast,” Aiden hurried him.

“Yes, I want to know. Wait. No. No, I don’t want to know.”

“Final answer?”

A beat. “Yeah, final answer.”

“Fair enough. You should be more interested in me, anyway,” Aiden suggested. He gestured at his own flawless body, clothed once again in a tailored waistcoat and slacks. 

“I am, I promise,” Scotty admitted. Why not?

“Flatterer,” Aiden singsonged, and he wore that pleased expression he always wore when Scotty couldn’t help but compliment him.

They sat in companionable silence for long, pleasant minutes. The evening was patient and soft and quiet, and Scotty felt like being honest so, “It’s nice talking to you,” he whispered.

“I feel the same, handsome,” Aiden said. 

If either had more to say about that, neither did. They remained there for some time after, with only occasional conversation to disturb the peaceful camaraderie. Scotty thought about Aiden dancing for him, and wondered if he liked sitting on the couch with him like this even more, just talking about silly things and being together.


After they parted, Scotty lay in bed in his room. He didn’t fight the movies that played out on his ceiling now. An hour passed. Truthfully, he wasn’t really surprised when the knock came. He was just in his boxers, but saw no reason to get dressed if what he wanted to happen was going to happen.

Aiden’s eyes swept up and down his body when Scotty opened the door. “My, my. Is that what you’ve been hiding?” he whispered. It was the dead of night, Scotty’s friends were fast asleep, but Aiden was still being cautious, and Scotty realized it was for his sake. It was so irritatingly kind.

“Come in,” he said.

Aiden closed the door behind him softly. Then, far too casually to be anything but practiced, he leaned a shoulder back against the frame, crossed his arms, and watched him. Scotty squared his shoulders and tried to look resolute and certain, when all he felt was twisted up and full of anticipation. Was it panic? 

“Your scar is beautiful,” Aiden said. “It makes you look strong. A little dangerous.”

“It’s ugly,” Scotty protested, but he felt himself flush at the attention. Aiden’s eyes were traveling over his torso with open appreciation.

“Don’t argue. I like it. It might feel nice against my tongue.”

“What?!” Scotty barked in shock, but Aiden was unfazed by his reaction.

“Busy?” Aiden asked, ignoring Scotty’s comical outburst.

Scotty swallowed and banished the image of Aiden licking his chest. “No,” he said hoarsely. 

It wasn’t until Aiden crossed the room and placed it on the table beside the big chair that Scotty realized Aiden had brought the tablet with him. It glowed temptingly, and Scotty swallowed again.

Aiden returned to his place by the door and crossed his arms. “Go ahead,” he said. “Tell me what you want. Tell me what to do.”

Scotty tried to be cool, but he walked rather quickly to the tablet. His hand was shaking the entire time as he scrolled to what he wanted and hit enter. He placed the tablet down and backed away. 

Aiden glanced at his watch when it chimed, then back to Scotty with knowing eyes. “Hm. Now tell me what it says,” he said with a smile.

Scotty blushed and shook his head, feeling young and foolish. “Your watch says it.”

“So it does,” Aiden said. “I want to hear you ask for it. It sounds sweet to my ears.”

Scotty looked at his feet, knowing he had lost this round. “I have music. Will you dance for me again?”

Aiden didn’t hesitate, said, “Of course,” then, “hmm. Are you looking for Magic Mike this time?”

Scotty hadn’t seen the movie, but he’d had a girlfriend who had raved about it. He’d gotten the idea: big, dumb, beefy guys thrusting their dicks in people’s faces. No, that’s not what he wanted.

“Not Magic Mike,” Scotty said. “More like…Jamie Lee Curtis. You know, from True Lies?”

“You’re far too young to have seen that movie,” Aiden complained.

“Hey! I’m not that young. I like movies,” Scotty argued right back.

“Hmm,” Aiden said, but he was openly laughing at him. “No complaints, then. Put on the music.”

Scotty hurried to get his phone from his pocket with hands shaking from anticipation. He settled into his spot in the overstuffed chair once again. It took a moment to open the app, scroll through his playlist, and find the song, but soon enough a sultry jazz number was playing. 

“Nice,” Aiden said before starting to dance. 

He couldn’t move like Jamie Lee Curtis. He was missing a pair of really impressive breasts, first of all. But that didn’t matter. He moved well, with confidence, and his eyes did half the work for him, every expression alluring. He took off his glasses, bit the end of one temple, and stared at Scotty as he played with them with his tongue. By the time he put the glasses down, they’d been everywhere on his body, and Scotty was suddenly rather jealous of glasses.

The dance was suggestive, pieces of clothing coming off with daring twists, and smooth rolls of Aiden’s body. It was like the first time, only better. That first time, Aiden hadn’t come to him wanting anything but his clothing back. Now he was here because he wanted to do this for Scotty. He wanted to dance for him, to give him what he asked for. The thought made Scotty breathless. 

‘So you’re gay now, huh?’ Dennis asked in his memory, intruding on Scotty’s thoughts. It was unwanted, and Scotty forced the thoughts away. Just watch Aiden move, don’t worry, he reassured himself.

Aiden kicked his pants away dramatically. He was down to just his briefs at last, but he didn’t take them off. Instead, he slowly pushed his hand down his body, starting at his neck and then down, down, so slowly that Scotty’s mouth went dry.

At last Aiden pushed his fingers into the front of his briefs. His eyes were locked on Scotty’s the whole time. His arm jerked, and Scotty could see he was gripping himself hard beneath the silk. He made those noises again, the ones that drove Scotty mad. They were high little panting sounds. 

“Ah, ah, mmm, ahhh.”

And now Scotty was jealous of a hand. He squeezed his dick through his boxers to get some control and watched, rapt. He didn’t know what to ask for now that a buffet of skin was on display. And everything Aiden was doing on his own was good. The man didn’t need instructions.

Gay, his own thoughts intruded this. You’re gay, that’s why you’re turned on.

He shook his head to shake the thoughts away and focused harder on Aiden’s dance.

Aiden slowly pulled his hand free, then shifted the waistline of the briefs so just the head of his cock emerged above it, a teasing glimpse of his reddened, lovely erection. He touched the slit with the tip of one thin finger, then pulled it away, and a small thread of white stretched out obscenely between dick and digit. Then Aiden lifted that coated finger to his mouth to lap at it with his tongue. 

Satisfied, he lifted his eyes to lock gazes with Scotty. Once he was sure Scotty wouldn’t even blink, he slowly lowered the briefs, and shifted them down and under his cock and balls. The elastic pushed his beautiful erection up erotically. Aiden moved, touching his chest, his face, turning a few times to the music to show the elastic of his briefs pulled tight over his ass. There’d be a deep red line across his ass cheeks when he finally took them off, and Scotty imagined tracing it with his tongue. 

Gay, gay, gay.

Aiden tugged at the briefs, tortured his sac with his motions; he pulled at his own nipples, threw his head from side to side, but every time one of his hands strayed to his cock, he moved it away again. It was a maddening tease. Then he moved his hands away from his body entirely to grip the post. Scotty whimpered, wanting to see Aiden push his hands into those sexy briefs and touch himself again.

Aiden moved with purpose, rubbing his whole body up and down the bedpost, riding a cock that wasn’t there. He had just buried his fingers in his hair and arched his back like a rainbow when the song suddenly came to an end. Scotty fumbled for his phone, wanting to see more, wanting to see how it all ended. He needed music now. But when he looked up, Aiden was holding still, watching him. His hands were loose at his sides, but there was obvious tension in his body. 

“Now what?” he asked softly. 

“I’ve got another song,” Scotty explained hurriedly.

A slow shake of Aiden’s blonde head. “No, handsome. No more dancing. What do you want?”

Scotty didn’t know. The only thing he did know was that if Aiden was a girl, he’d push him down and fuck him raw. But Aiden wasn’t a girl, and Scotty could admit that he was pretty damn confused. He was harder than he’d ever been in his life, and he couldn’t come, couldn’t come. Hell, he couldn’t even touch himself, hadn’t pushed his hand into his boxers like his body was urging him to do. Because if he touched himself again it meant…

It meant…

“I don’t know what to do,” Scotty said, and his voice broke a little. God, he was about to cry. What the hell was wrong with him? How could he want something and not want something all at the same time?

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Aiden crooned quickly. It wasn’t the voice of a lover any longer, but the voice of a comforting shoulder, a confidant. 

“No, it’s not!” Scotty cried. “I…feel like. I can’t breathe.” He clenched at the knot in his chest, his constant companion since he’d met Aiden. “You don’t understand what it’s like watching you. Not being able to do anything! I wanted it but now I don’t know what to do!”

Aiden’s face cracked and his eyes were sad. “Scotty, it’s going to be fine. I’ll fix it, okay?”

“No! I mean…” Scotty said, and wiped at his leaking eyes. “I’m…you’re….so pretty. You look so…so good and…maybe I wanna…maybe I want to…with you. And that means…” He covered his face with both hands, and just sobbed. His heart hurt and he was hard and his mind felt like a fresh bruise and he didn’t know if he was going to come or faint. 

“Shh,” Aiden said again. “I’ll fix it. Come here, handsome.”

Scotty wiped at his eyes uselessly once more. Still, as commanded, he stood and walked to Aiden, who climbed onto the bed, put his back against the headboard, and spread his legs. He patted the blanket between his knees. “Get comfortable,” he said. 

“That’s not a good idea,” Scotty mumbled wetly, staring at Aiden’s lovely body.

“It’ll all be okay. I promise,” was Aiden’s soothing reassurance. 

“I…I can’t. I’ll…sit next to you.”

“Of course. Whatever you like.” Aiden scooted to the side to make room.

Scotty nodded, then climbed onto the bed to join him. He arranged himself, and leaned back slowly so his back was against the headboard. He was beside Aiden, whose skin — whose whole body — was so beautiful it made Scotty miserable. He tried not to gasp at the idea of being close enough to touch that skin. 

“See now?” Aiden sighed. “That’s not so bad, right?”

Scotty closed his eyes. “No. It’s fine. It’s nice,” he lied.

“We’ll do it together, okay? Just like before. We’ve done that much already, right?” Aiden asked.

Scotty nodded. He hesitated, then took his dick out, feeling so lost, but like Aiden’s voice could keep him tethered.

“So nice,” Aiden sighed. “I like your cock.”

“Yours too,” Scotty mumbled like a fool. 

Aiden only grinned at him. “Then look all you like,” he purred before sliding his briefs down to his knees. “Together, baby,” he coaxed, and then stroked himself when Scotty did. “That’s it. Show me what to do. I’ll follow your lead.”

It started out slow, Scotty teasing himself like he normally would. But all too soon he realized he was too far along for that. He needed release; felt like Aiden had driven him a little mad.

Scotty hunched forward, pumping fast and hard. He squeezed his eyes tight, and it was no surprise that Aiden was behind his eyelids, touching his own nipples, sucking on his own fingers; dancing for Scotty because he’d asked him to again.

Scotty spilled and tilted sideways; had to catch himself on a cum-soaked hand. “Shit,” he cursed. The sounds Aiden was making made Scotty turn to stare at him quickly, desperate to see him. Aiden was coming, a slow, languorous orgasm that had his back arched, his tight nipples high, and ropes of cum splashing on his neck and chest. 

“Yeah,” Scotty whispered. “Yeah.” It was a painting, one he’d see on his ceiling forever, he realized. Every night, a gallery before his eyes. 

The tension melted out of Aiden’s body when he was spent. He slumped against the headboard. First he tilted his head far back, then turned it to the side to smile at Scotty.

“No harm, right?” he asked softly. “We’re just two boys getting off together. Nothing’s broken. Nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s changed. You’re still exactly who you were before.”

Scotty shook his head to disagree, then nodded. He didn’t know what to think. “It’s just you. All the stuff in my head isn’t so bad anymore. Everything’s better with you. Everything seems okay.”

“It all is okay,” Aiden said. He knelt up and looked at Scotty, and his expression was so sincere it broke Scotty’s heart a little. “I know this seems scary right now. You’re…confused. But nothing’s set in stone. You can write your name in any column you want, erase it and choose another. Write your name wherever you want, Scotty, and that is who you’ll be.”

Scotty looked at his hands. “You make it sound easy.”

“It’s not easy, no,” Aiden said. “But between friends, it doesn’t have to be so hard.”

“Friends,” Scotty repeated. What a laugh. He’d never done anything like this with any of his friends.

“Let me sleep here,” Aiden said suddenly, apropos of nothing.

“Huh?” Scotty choked.

“Cute. Let me sleep here. With you.”

Scotty gaped at him. His eyes were still wet from sobbing, his hand was covered in cum, and he was having a hard time understanding life. Sleeping in the same bed with Aiden seemed like rocket science. 

“Here? With me?”

Aiden rolled his eyes. “Is there an echo? Yes. Here. With you.”

“You have a room you’re using,” Scotty argued. 

And dammit if Aiden didn’t beg pretty, too. “How boring. My own room? My own widdle bed? I’d rather be in yours.”

And god that was tempting. Aiden in his bed, he thought. All his all night. But then Scotty froze, and fear crept up his neck. He had a sudden worry that he’d roll over in the night, just start touching Aiden, and not be able to stop. He didn’t want to test it. What would that make him?

“But why?” Scotty whined instead of explaining the needy place where his mind was.

“Because I like you,” Aiden said. “And, honestly, I don’t think you need to be alone right now. It seemed like a good idea when I asked. But if you’d rather I left…”

Scotty inhaled deeply, held it, and exhaled. It helped him feel less like he was about to start crying again. “I don’t actually want you to go,” Scotty said, and saying the words aloud made the knot in his chest ease.

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” Aiden announced as he got to his feet, and padded to Scotty’s messy bathroom. He returned with towels, one of which he handed to Scotty. He wiped himself down, but stared at Scotty as he did, and his green eyes were mysterious. The towels were tossed away, and Aiden crawled across the bed to Scotty, who felt his mouth go dry at the view. But Aiden only pulled a corner of the blanket up, and slid beneath it gracefully.

“Get comfy, handsome,” he said. So the two of them snuggled in under the covers. Aiden turned on his side, his back to Scotty, and his head pillowed on his hands. 

Scotty stared at his long neck and graceful shoulders. They were both naked, sleeping less than two feet apart, and Scotty didn’t understand a damn thing.

“May I call you ‘Scott’?” Aiden asked in a voice slightly muffled by blanket, but Scotty was so focused on all of him that he heard just fine.

“Nobody calls me that.”

There was a pause, then Aiden said, “Then let me be the only one who does.”

Scotty held his breath again, then let it out in a heavy rush. “Uh, say it again?”

“Scott,” Aiden said, but it was that voice he used. The one that was like a purr. 

“Uh, yeah. You can call me Scott.”

“Then goodnight, Scott. Again.”

“Goodnight, Aiden.” But Scott didn’t close his eyes. Very slowly, he lifted his hand. He reached out, could imagine running his hand down Aiden’s shoulder, down to his waist, and then around, to that beautiful cock. 

“You can,” Aiden whispered. “I want you to.”

Scotty pulled his hand back. “Goodnight,” he said again, then turned away from temptation.


The next day was more of the same (except for the part of him that kept thinking about sleeping in the same bed with Aiden). Eat, workout, hang out with Buck while trying to avoid Dennis as much as possible. Despite the truce they had called, conversations with Dennis were stilted, and the hard feelings so prevalent that it was up to Buck to smooth tensions and keep things civil. Sometimes it seemed like Dennis couldn’t help but say snide things about Aiden and Scotty.

“Maybe you want to invite the hooker along to play golf with us? Since you like him so much?” he sneered at one point.

“Fuck off, Denny,” Scotty growled.

“Dudes, come on,” Buck begged.

So, yeah. It was better to avoid Dennis entirely.

And of course, Scotty didn’t hang out with Buck or Dennis at all if they were in one of the common rooms, being creative with Aiden on any available surface. It still happened — Aiden blowing Dennis by the pool; getting fucked by Buck on the billiard table in the study. Every time Scotty stumbled upon Aiden being used, their eyes met. Bent forwards, bent backwards, legs wide or closed, Aiden’s eyes always found Scotty.

Under the gruff exterior, Buck it seemed was a lover. Not once but twice Scotty stumbled across Buck and Aiden in a romantic clench. The first time, Aiden was almost fully-dressed, but the front of his designer shirt was unbuttoned so that Buck could stroke his chest, kiss his long neck, and sometimes nip at a nipple. 

Scotty stood just out of sight and watched as Buck lowered Aiden back onto the couch and kissed him deeply. The contented sound he made when Aiden wrapped his arms around him was followed up by whispers that Scotty could overhear.

“I like it when you hold me,” Buck said. Scotty could see his smile even as far away as he was.

“I like holding you,” Aiden purred back. One long leg curled up and around Buck’s back, holding him down so their dicks could rub together through the fabric. 

“Yeah,” was Buck’s reply to that before he kissed Aiden again, and let his hand roam all over his muscles. “You’re so fit,” he mused. 

Aiden laughed. “I have to keep up with you,” he said, and then undid the buttons of Buck’s shirt to reveal all his dense, football muscle. 

Scotty listened to this romantic exchange, but he could tell it wasn’t the same. It’s not how Aiden talks to me, he thought as the realization dawned. Putting his finger on precisely what was different wasn’t easy, but he knew he was right: Aiden spoke to him differently than he spoke to Buck and even Dennis. Some of his jealousy eased at the thought. Some of it.

Five minutes later, they were still just kissing and caressing, and Scotty was surprised. And if he analyzed it too closely, he was jealous, too. Buck knew himself; knew what he wanted, and wasn’t afraid to take it. The opposite of me, Scotty thought miserably. The reason he kept watching was because he was some kind of masochist he figured. 

There was nothing hurried about Buck’s touches to Aiden’s body. He was just enjoying himself, and Aiden in turn was just as content to kiss and touch, occasionally shifting his hips beneath Buck’s in a sensual way. They were in no rush to get off. 

Feeling like a voyeur even more than before when Aiden had been double-teamed by Buck and Dennis on the couch, Scotty snuck away. His back catalogue of wank material featuring Aiden was growing bigger by the minute.

And his time was running out. Tick, tock.


Late that night, Aiden and Scotty chatted by the gas firepit on the patio that Aiden, of course, knew how to operate. The digital panel that controlled it had made Scotty’s head hurt, but Aiden had confidently pushed buttons and gotten the thing working easily.

They talked about everything, bouncing from topic to topic nonstop, and it made Scotty think of speed dates. It seemed like they were both aware of the very same thing: how short their time together was. Were they trying to stretch out every remaining minute of the week? Fill each moment with each other? Scotty knew it was the case for him, but Aiden, as always, was impossible to read. So he just listened to his words, and tried to memorize all of him.

Scotty learned that Aiden liked to cook, and that he spoke both French and German. It came in handy, he said, because many of his clients liked taking him along on trips abroad. They showed him off, kept him on their arms like an expensive accessory.

Aiden didn’t mind really because he enjoyed traveling. He wanted to learn an instrument he said, but wasn’t particular about which one.

Scotty in turn shared with Aiden that he had no concrete plans for the future. He still felt like a kid in what he liked and what he did: sports and music and video games. He’d never been good enough to play football in college, and he wasn’t a particularly good student. The real world scared him. He admitted that Aiden seemed like a mythical creature to him with his refinement, polish, and knowledge.

“Flattery, flattery,” Aiden said.

And because Scotty asked — because he needed to know, perhaps — they talked about being gay in this world. 

“Are you sure you want to hear all this?”

And Scotty was. It was important for him to hear it all.

Some of what Aiden told him was wonderful. He talked about friendship and community and belonging. He had actually marched in Pride, unlike Buck, and Scotty made a mental note to rub Buck’s nose in that later.

“I was quite the Queen,” Aiden proclaimed proudly, but Scotty didn’t know what that meant, exactly. Instead of explaining, Aiden said that he’d show him pictures one day.

“You’ll absolutely love them,” Aiden promised.

When Aiden talked about the good times, Scotty felt comfortable, even cheerful knowing that life was good for Aiden. He was ‘Out and Proud’ like Scotty had heard people talk about on TV, and living the way he wanted.

But a lot of what Aiden said scared Scotty, made him feel shame; made him feel helpless and small. Aiden told him stories of slurs and violence and sudden aggression. They made Scotty feel sick to his stomach. And Aiden had a way of telling these bleak stories without sounding angry or wronged by the world, and Scotty didn’t know how that could be. Why wasn’t he angry? Why didn’t he want to tear the whole system down?

“Oh, I am angry, Scott,” Aiden explained when he asked, a cool expression on his face. “I’m very angry.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I comfort myself with the knowledge that nothing lasts forever. Not even this awful, hateful world.”

It was said with certainty, and a fair amount of heartbreak.

When he was done — or at least exhausted from recounting cruelties — he asked, “What do you think now?” 

“I think…I think I don’t know a lot about anything,” Scotty admitted.

“A fair point. But everyone has to start somewhere,” Aiden said gently.

And when it got quite late, they said goodnight, and went their separate ways. But Scotty knew somehow that it wasn’t over. Not tonight, at least.

He was proven correct when Aiden knocked very politely on his door about an hour later. When he opened it, Aiden was obviously freshly showered, and wearing pajama bottoms and nothing else. They were silk and slate grey. Of course Aiden had silk pajamas. Scotty had a sudden urge to pet them.

“Uh, hi,” he said, staring at a series of love bites and hickeys on Aiden’s torso.

“Oh, don’t mind them,” Aiden said softly, noticing his wandering eyes. “Occupational hazards.”

Only he was minding them. He didn’t like these marks on Aiden. He didn’t like that someone else had made them; the insistence in his mind that he could have made them — Aiden wanted him to, or said he did — if he weren’t a confused mess. A coward and a fool.

“Buck?” he asked around the bile of jealousy.

“Yes. And Dennis,” Aiden added, his long fingers brushing over one nipple which was obviously sore from bites and from being sucked too hard.

“Do you…? I mean…”

Aiden smiled a dagger smile, bright and sharp and dangerous. “How cute. Don’t you know, handsome? I like everything.”

“I don’t believe you,” Scotty said thoughtfully. 

“Hm,” was all Aiden said. He stepped into the room then turned to stare at Scotty. “So what are we doing tonight?”

Scotty looked around in panic. “I don’t have the tablet,” he said. 

“You don’t need it,” Aiden whispered.

“Oh, um.” There was a long moment as Scotty thought. What did he want from Aiden? The answer was ‘too much.’  

“I don’t know what to ask for,” he admitted.

“Ah. Did I scare you away with all my talk earlier?”

“No!” Scotty protested, feeling shocked. “It’s not that. I just…I don’t even know where to start.”

“Perhaps I can help you,” Aiden purred. He moved further into the room, and Scotty locked the door behind him clumsily while his eyes feasted. There was Aiden looking like a painting again with his muscled chest and creamy skin. Scotty took a few backwards steps away from him, not really trusting himself.

Aiden smirked at him, but said nothing until, “You know, I was laying in bed having a think after you said goodbye so sweetly.”

Scotty flushed. He’d thought it a normal goodbye. “Uh. Yeah?”

“Mm, yes. And I recalled that I put on a show for you not too long ago,” Aiden said.

“You did. Yeah. It was nice. I liked it. It was really nice,” Scotty babbled. He felt a little unbalanced. 

Aiden’s smile turned wicked. “How nice. In fact, I put on a show for you twice.”

“Yeah, uh, that’s true,” Scotty said, feeling even more unbalanced.

“And I didn’t get a thing for all my troubles,” Aiden said, pouting that pretty pout of his. “Now is that fair?”

Scotty didn’t know what that meant, exactly, and he didn’t want to point out the obvious fact that Aiden was a prostitute and that there wasn’t usually tat for the tit in that situation. Also, Aiden had certainly seemed to enjoy dancing for him. But he let it slide because, well, because he wanted to. He wanted to know what Aiden wanted in exchange; he liked the idea that he had something Aiden wanted.

“Maybe. Uh, maybe it’s not fair,” he admitted. God, Aiden was obviously enjoying toying with him. His eyes were twinkling again.

“I agree! So now you can put on a show for me.”

Scotty ducked his head, flustered by the request. “I can’t dance,” he admitted. 

Aiden’s shrug was performance art. “Who says I want you to dance? Show me,” he said, looking over Scotty’s shoulder.

“Huh?” Scotty asked. He turned to follow Aiden’s gaze and was immediately mortified. He whirled back. “Um. I can’t.”

“And why is that?” Aiden purred.

“It won’t work.”

“Why, Scott?” Aiden asked, and his tone was still playful, but there was iron to the question.

“It’s because…that is…they don’t…smell-like-you-anymore,” Scotty answered in a whispered rush. He kept Aiden’s briefs by the bed, touched them sometimes, but it wasn’t the same now.

Aiden’s eyes turned bright and knowing. “Oh, I see. Then let me fix that,” he said. 

Then he stripped — right then and there — and Scotty was mesmerized again. Thud, thud, went Aiden’s slippers as he tossed them. Rustle went his pants as they pooled on the ground. All business, he was down to just his briefs in what seemed like an instant. 

Scotty watched it all with his mouth hanging open like a dummy. Even undressing normally, Aiden moved like a stripper. Gracefully, Aiden pulled the briefs down and tossed them to Scotty, who caught them and instantly felt his fingers turn hot. 

“There you go, handsome. Now, give me my show.”

Scotty was too busy staring at Aiden’s glorious body to move at first; how his cock was hardening at the idea of Scotty getting off for him. Aiden was perfect. There was no choice, was there? Scotty crushed the briefs in his hands, just to stop himself from reaching for something else.

He backed up until the back of his legs hit the bed. Then he stilled, watching to see if Aiden might change his mind, get bored, say it was all a joke, and leave. 

Aiden crossed his arms, leaned back against the door and watched. “Don’t be shy,” he said.

Scotty closed his eyes. He was embarrassed and turned on, and would it be better to pretend like he was alone again — or would that be much less tantalizing? 

That delicious smell was there, just like before, when he pressed the briefs to his nose. They were still hot from Aiden’s body, and that was an unexpected, welcome perk. He moaned and rubbed the silk against his face. Then he whispered Aiden’s name, but now Aiden could hear it, and he knew he should stop, but he couldn’t.

“Yes,” Aiden answered, and that made Scotty’s heart beat wildly.

He kissed the briefs, and it was better now because of that heat, and because Aiden was standing there watching him. Committed now, he shucked his boxer shorts suddenly, tossed them to he didn’t care where, and climbed onto the bed. He glanced at Aiden who shifted for a better view.

Scotty scooted down so that his back was flat, but he left his knees bent. Then he trailed the silk briefs to his neck, imagined rubbing the scent of Aiden into his skin as he went. He pushed the fabric to his nipples, first one then the other. God, Aiden was watching him do this, and he was too embarrassed and nervous and just messed up to keep his eyes open and see Aiden watching him get off with his underwear. 

He lingered with the silk on his belly button for a moment, then he inhaled and wrapped the silk around his neglected cock. 

“Fuck,” Scotty shouted. The sensation was better than even the first time. Jacking himself off was a normal thing. He was in his twenties, what did people expect? But it had never felt this good. Never before, and he suspected never again.

“Aiden, Aiden,” he whispered. 

He had to savor this feeling now; savor what it felt like to have Aiden’s eyes solely on him. When he finally forced his eyes open, he moaned at the hungry look on Aiden’s perfect face. He’d had one week with him and it was almost done. Tick, tock.

“You like getting off for me? Touching your cock for me? Come for me, baby. Let me see you,” Aiden demanded.

Scotty came enormously, loudly; body contorted, curling in towards his hand where it was still pumping cum onto the briefs, onto his hand, onto the comforter. His legs moved restlessly. White noise filled his brain from the sound of his blood rushing down.    

Aiden moved across the room, eyes bright. He stopped by the side of the bed, looking down at him.

“Please,” Scotty whispered, his eyes dropping to Aiden’s blood-darkened cock.

“Of course,” Aiden said. It was what he always said. He was a man who gave men what they wanted. He wrapped his long fingers around himself, and began stroking and twisting. Cum drooled from the head of his cock, slicking his movements. He lifted one knee onto the bed, right beside Scotty’s hip and Scotty understood. More than that, he wanted it; was panting for it.

“I’m close,” Aiden said. He leaned nearer to Scotty, and jerked faster, no finesse, just speed and strength: a good-old-fashioned jerk like the kind Scotty did when he knew his parents would come home any minute. 

He didn’t know why, but he opened his mouth wide, and maybe that was what made Aiden let go, because Aiden’s eyes went wide, then squeezed shut, and he shot all over Scotty. It was hot on Scotty’s tongue, hot where it hit his chest and pooled in his navel. God, it was filthy, and he felt his cock stir again.

He licked his lips, wiped the cum off his chin, and licked it up too, all under Aiden’s heavy-lidded gaze. He’d never even tasted his own spunk before. He didn’t know if he was supposed to like it or not, but he did. Was he just that pitiful that he liked everything about Aiden? Maybe he was, because he gathered up more from his stomach, and licked that, too; sucked on his finger to get the last drop. 

“Straight boys,” Aiden mused, mostly to himself, but it was clear from his eyes that he liked watching Scott swallow his cum. Scotty wanted to laugh, but he was still too overwhelmed to do anything but gaze at Aiden with his chest heaving. 

“Aren’t you a picture?” Aiden said, standing straight and letting his cock hang semi-erect and sticky. 

“Ha, me?” Scotty muttered. “You even look pretty when you come,” he said. It sounded like a gripe, and Aiden rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t you know by now? I do everything pretty,” he said haughtily. “Hold there. I’ll get something to clean us up.”

He disappeared into the ensuite, and returned with two small towels damp with warm water. He handed one to Scotty, and used the other on himself. They eyed each other as they cleaned up. Scotty didn’t know what to say, but manners made him say, “Thank you. Again.”

Before he lost his courage, he added, “Come to bed?” 

“Of course,” Aiden said casually, easily, as if this wasn’t a big step for Scotty who they both knew was confused and lost. And so for the second night in a row, they fell asleep together. Aiden wasn’t stretched out on Scotty’s ceiling anymore. He was right beside him instead. When Scotty tried to pinpoint when this thing he had with Aiden became an inevitability, all that came to mind was the minute Aiden walked into the kitchen that first day in the mansion. 

‘Hello, gentlemen.’  

At some hour deep in the night, Scotty woke suddenly to the feeling of the bed moving. His hand flew without him thinking, and his fingers wrapped around Aiden’s wrist. He squinted through the dark at Aiden’s surprised expression.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Stay,” Scotty said in a sleepy growl. 

“Your friends…”

“I don’t care. Stay. Please.”

“You do care, Scott,” Aiden said, rolling to face Scotty and studying him.

“Not so much right now,” Scotty argued. He lifted a hand and very gently pushed Aiden’s tousled hair off his face. “There,” he said. “Perfect.”

Before he could retrieve his hand, Aiden caught it, and twined their fingers together. 

“What am I supposed to do with you?” he whispered, but Scotty was already half-way back to sleep, and didn’t bother to answer.


Scotty woke up with a feeling of dread the next day. Aiden had slipped out at some point during the night, but that wasn’t what was causing such mayhem in his mind. He had, he realized, less than a day and a half left with Aiden. He felt choked up by everything he hadn’t said. 

Dennis and Buck seemed very aware of the fact that he was having a meltdown. They left him alone unless he sought them out, gave him friendly claps on the shoulder, and otherwise just tried to be there for him. Even Dennis was understanding. His occasional snide little comments to him about Aiden when he was in a particularly dark mood all dried up. Scotty appreciated it, he just didn’t know what to do with any of it. 

Of course, Buck and Dennis still disappeared from time to time to be with Aiden (“Gotta fuck him while we can,” Buck said which made Scotty hate him just a little). And Aiden always looked over his shoulder at Scotty as he was led away to do dark deeds in dark rooms. Scotty still didn’t know what his expression meant, but he wanted to so badly. His friends and Aiden had kindly stopped having sex in the public rooms, and it was great for Scotty to have a break from seeing Aiden like that. With other people. His friends.

And sometimes, Scotty and Aiden just hung around wherever, talking, both aware that they were in a weird place together, and that this weird, wonderful, horrible time was coming to an end.

On the evening of that very last day, they lounged by the pool. Aiden hinted that both Buck and Dennis were wiped out from, what was the word he’d used? Oh, right: exertions. 

So it was peaceful by the pool, and nice to be with Aiden. Just the two of them.

“Tell me more about you,” Scotty said, looking at Aiden’s profile bathed in the shrinking sunlight. “Where are you from? You have an accent, but I don’t know what it is.”

“I’m from everywhere,” Aiden explained breezily. “I’ve been all over, lived everywhere, so my accent is a hodgepodge.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense. I like how you say certain words,” Scotty said. “You say ‘flat’ instead of ‘apartment.’ You sound like a prince in a movie. It’s pretty.”

“Where did you learn your manners?” Aiden asked with a laugh. “You’re so polite. Complimentary. Kind. Different from Buck. Not like Dennis, either.”

Scotty didn’t know how he felt being compared to friends when he was the only one not sleeping with Aiden. Or, at least, not really sleeping with Aiden. They did stuff, just like Buck said. A lot of stuff, Scotty mused. Some of what he felt was definitely pride at the idea that Aiden preferred him. A lot of it was discomfort at the idea that Aiden — being only human no matter how refined — couldn’t help but compare one friend to the other. 

“My mom and dad are a couple of do-gooders,” Scotty explained. “I try to be polite. I’ve never met anyone like you, though, and I say stupid things. I’m sorry that I’ve been trouble.”

Aiden gave one of his bubbly laughs. “Handsome, you’re hardly trouble. You’re the most fun a hooker could have.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“It’s a compliment,” Aiden said, laughing again. They watched the sun go down, and Scotty looked to Aiden as he stood. “I’m hanging out with Buck and Denny for a bit tonight. We don’t see Denny much anymore, what with his mystery job and all that. We’re going to say goodbye to him. Or goodbye for now, really.”

Aiden nodded his head in understanding. “Well, I guess this is goodnight, then. Or is it goodbye? You leave tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah,” Scotty said, feeling the weight of the moment crash into him like a linebacker. “I don’t want to go, for what it’s worth. Not much, I know.”

“It means plenty,” Aiden said. He stood and held out a hand. “I hate goodbyes, to be honest. So let me say now, tonight, that it has been very nice to meet you.” 

Scotty slowly took the offered hand. He shook it for too long. “It was nice to meet you, too. I promise: I am never going to forget you.”

“Now that I absolutely believe.” Aiden glanced down at their clasped hands. “Hold it any longer and I’ll just let you keep it,” he said. 

Scotty apologized and finally released him. The idea was tempting. “Well…thanks. Um. Goodnight. Goodbye.”

Scotty headed inside, but he still heard Aiden’s soft, “Goodnight, handsome.”

He’d miss that, he realized: the sweet sound of someone like Aiden calling him handsome. He caught himself in the lie. It wasn’t because it was someone like Aiden. It was because it was Aiden. He was going to miss him. Far, far, too much.


“Let’s wreck this place and say goodbye right!” was Buck’s pronouncement that night. Dennis and Scotty agreed, though Scotty didn’t think any of them had it in them to actually wreck the place like some rock star in a Vegas hotel. The sentiment did make sense to him, however: they were going to give their week here, and all that it entailed, a proper send-off. 

Before they could get the festivities started, Dennis pulled Scotty to the side. The look on his face let Scotty know that they were going to have another talk, possibly one he would rather skip. Perhaps Dennis was just going to take the time to insult Aiden again. Who knew with Dennis?

“Hey,” Dennis said. 

“Hi,” Scotty said simply. If Dennis had something to say, he wasn’t going to help him out. 

“Yeah,” Dennis muttered. “Look. I’ve been an ass.”

Scotty crossed his arms. “Yep.”

Dennis winced, but soldiered on. “And it’s not your fault I loved you. And it’s not your fault I never said anything. It’s not Aiden’s fault that…well, none of it is his fault.”

Scotty didn’t speak, mostly because love was a big word he hadn’t expected, and he didn’t know what to say in reply. Sometimes he wondered if Dennis, for all his intelligence, didn’t think before he spoke.

“I shouldn’t have made a big deal about you and Aiden. It was all my own doing anyway. I honestly don’t know what I was thinking when I brought you along. What I hoped for. And then I was so jealous. I just set myself up to be jealous. Of you and him. I’m an idiot.”

The more he talked the more miserable he seemed to make himself. His whole posture was defeated, so Scotty decided to put an end to this. He’d never wanted Dennis to be sad or full of regret. All he’d wanted was to hang out with him, to have things be the way they were before Dennis dropped out. Granted, he’d been in the dark about what was really going on all those years of their friendship, but it was too late to fix that now. Wrong or not, he still wanted things to be the same.

“Denny, cut it out. It’s okay. I just want to forget it all. I’m your friend. I’m still your friend. Can we just pretend like it didn’t happen?”

It was selfish of Scotty and he knew that. Dennis had felt what he felt, had thought himself in love with Scotty. Asking him to just forget it and move on was probably wrong, but Scotty didn’t know what else to do. 

Dennis seemed willing to let Scotty’s selfishness slide if they could be on good terms again. “Yeah, we’ll just forget it. Friends?” Dennis opened his arms wide.

Scotty moved into the embrace. “Friends.” he agreed. And just like that, nothing was different. It was nice to think that way at least.

Later that night, Buck, Dennis and Scotty stood in the living room, looking around. They’d had a few drinks, remembered all the good times, lamented all the bad ones, and now they were finally ready to pack up and head out.

“This has been a wild week, dudes. Teamwork makes the dream work,” Buck said, as usual spouting nonsense. This is why I gave the team speeches, Scotty thought fondly. Buck held out his right hand, palm down.

“Denny Boy?”

“A hell of a good time with my best friends in a very nice house. Nobody else I’d want to spend it with but you two,” Dennis said. He placed his hand atop Buck’s. As one, Buck and Dennis looked to Scotty, who shook his head and smiled.

“You’re both complete assholes. I love you. Thanks. Honestly. For everything.” He placed his hand atop the pile.

“On three!” Buck called, and all together they cried, “One, two, three! Goooooooo Trojans!”

It might as well have been gameday for how they celebrated.

But it was a stupid, juvenile cheer, and Scotty knew it. High school was behind them, and Dennis wasn’t even at their college anymore. And one day Buck and Scotty would graduate and be thrown into the real world, and neither of them were ready for it. Buck was a child at heart, sure, but was Scotty really any better? And Dennis was so different, his life incomprehensible — his money and his damn car. What really did they have in common anymore other than childhood memories? Gameday memories? Maybe one day they’d stop calling each other. Maybe one day they’d struggle to remember why they’d been friends at all. Who could say?

But they’d had this week together, and for Scotty, right then, that was enough.

“You were the kicker, dude,” Buck laughed, punching Dennis in the arm. “We shouldn’t even include you in our cheer. We took you off the shelf and dusted you off, like, what? Once a game?”

“Screw you!” Dennis laughed, punching Buck right back. 

“I can ignore you both: I was quarterback,” Scotty said, crossing his arms and looking important.

“Oh, hell, no,” Buck said. “Sack him!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Scotty cried and ran for it.

Which is how he ended up getting tossed in the pool. And also how he ended up dragging Buck in with him. And also how Buck ended up crashing into Dennis on his way down, and dragging him in too.

“You guys suck!” Scotty laughed, coughing up water.

“We love you, too,” Dennis said, grabbing his head and dunking him right back down.


That night, all showered and dried off after his fully clothed pool adventure, Scotty sat with his back against the headboard, watching the door. He hadn’t locked it. He could tell himself it had been accidental, but who was he kidding? He was waiting for Aiden to come to him again. It was hard to know what to expect, but he knew it wasn’t over between them. Scotty would leave in the morning, and he wanted to say goodbye to Aiden right. Somehow.

He waited two hours, but Aiden didn’t come.

A week ago, it would have been impossible for him, but today it was as easy as anything he’d ever done: he threw on a pair of jeans and went to Aiden instead.

Nobody was that straight, after all.

His knock was confident, not at all the knock of a man trying to be clandestine. He noticed the fact, but didn’t think too much about it. Aiden came to the door with damp hair and shining skin — spotless from head to toe in a creamy pair of silk pajamas, and of course he had more than one pair of silk pajamas. 

“Thought we said a proper goodbye,” he said with a slow, knowing smile. His eyes roved over Scotty’s chest, his scar.

“We did. But you, uh, didn’t come to see me.”

“I didn’t,” Aiden replied, and raised an eyebrow. “How wonderful that you’ve come to me, instead.”

Scotty stared at his shoes. This felt exactly like asking a pretty upperclassman girl to prom. “Did you want me to? Were you…waiting for me?”

“What if I was?”

The shrug he gave was the best he could do for a response right then. What did it mean if Aiden had wanted him to come? 

“Hm, well. Don’t just stand there. Come in,” Aiden said in a quiet, bright voice. “The night is young.”

Scotty exhaled in relief, and took the invitation at face value. Aiden’s room was classy with dark woods and warm accents. He’d definitely picked the perfect room for himself; it suited him.

The door locking behind him made Scotty jump, but Aiden smiled at him reassuringly. “Don’t be scared,” he said. 

“I’m not. I’m…nervous?” The confidence that had brought him here was flagging now that he’d arrived.

“Well then don’t be nervous,” Aiden laughed. “Come here.”

Scotty shuffled to him, shoulders hunched, and head down. His face was hot from nerves and embarrassment. 

That playful tone was in Aiden’s voice when he asked, “Now, what are we doing tonight?”

“I didn’t bring the tablet,” Scotty mumbled. He looked around quickly as if the tablet might be on some table somewhere, giving him a way to avoid vocalizing all the dirty things his mind conjured up in regards to Aiden.

“I’m not wearing my watch. Besides, you don’t need the tablet,” Aiden whispered, and then more firmly, “Don’t be afraid to ask for what you want. Tell me.”

Swallowing hard, Scotty tried to rally his courage. “I…I think I want to watch you more.”

“My pleasure. Do you want me to dance for you? Jack off for you?”

Scotty shook his head. “No. Not like that.”

“I see,” Aiden said. His study of Scotty was long and thoughtful, and Scotty felt like a children’s book under the scrutiny: easy to read and basic.

At last, Aiden turned and walked to the bedside drawer. His movements were hidden until he turned back around. The thing in his hand excited and repulsed Scotty all at once. It was jet black, and far too long — longer than any real cock and much thicker, too. It moved, but not as if it was completely soft. There was some tooth to the thing, a kind of flexible rigidity. It made Scotty think of a snake, and the thing seemed just as dangerous and mysterious. There was no mistaking what it was intended for: the veins and ridges were very distinct. Without meaning to, Scotty shuffled closer. Aiden turned it for Scotty to see, showing off the monstrous thing with slow, careful movements. “What do you think?”

“Is it yours?” Scotty asked in a voice made small by uncertainty.

“Yes,” Aiden said. “I brought it with me. I’d like to…that is.” He stopped and seemed to be searching for the right thing to say. It was unusual for Aiden to be uncertain, so Scotty hung on every word. “Do you want to see how I play with it?”

Part of Scotty was screaming to run away, but the part that had marched his feet up the stairs to Aiden’s room was demanding he stay. And Aiden seemed to want this, like he’d wanted to see Scotty touch himself with his underwear. The larger part of him demanded that he give Aiden what he wanted.

“Yes. Please,” Scotty said.

“Always so polite,” Aiden said, sounding pleased.

When he undressed, it wasn’t as he had before when he danced for Scotty. This was all business once more, almost hurried like he couldn’t help himself. He stopped when he was down to just his pajama bottoms and his fingers were about to tug them down.

“There’s a bottle of lube in the bathroom. Be a dear and fetch it, please,” Aiden said. The look on his face as he asked made it clear he thought it funny that Scotty would absolutely prefer not to get the bottle of lube. Nevertheless, Scotty moved deeper into the room to the ensuite door.

The bathroom was full of surprises. It was still a little steamy from Aiden’s shower, and there were items Scotty didn’t understand. On a shelf in the luxurious glass shower was another thing, and Scotty stared at it, trying to guess its purpose. It was long, slut-red, and ribbed with what looked like a black rubber bulb at the end. 

“It’s called a douche,” Aiden said from the doorway. He was leaning against the frame in that lazy way of his, but everything about his posture screamed alertness. 

“You use it to…?” but Scotty stopped there. It made sense: Aiden would have to take care of the inside of his body as well.

“To get clean, Scott, yes. Before and after,” Aiden answered his unfinished question. His face was serene, but perhaps his voice was a little irritated by the necessity of explaining absolutely everything to Scotty, who felt like he was drowning in new, confusing information.

“Did you use it before I came?”

“I did,” Aiden said with a telling smile. 

“Because you knew I’d come?”

“I hoped. Now quit gawking at my work tools, and come to bed. That’s the lube there,” he added unnecessarily. 

The bottle was black as well. Scotty picked it up gingerly and read the label aloud. “Back Door?” 

The bottle proclaimed that it was a water-based, personal lubricant; that it provided maximum comfort; and that it would relax the anus without desensitizing the area. Scotty felt like he was reading Greek. 

“It’s an apt name, you’ll agree. It’s my favorite brand. I’ll show you how it works. Come along,” Aiden said airily, and walked out of the room. 

Heart racing, Scotty followed along, his fingers burning from where he held the bottle.

“Just there,” Aiden said, and Scotty placed the lube on the bedside drawer where he pointed. 

“Climb up. Get comfortable. The view will be better up close,” Aiden said as he started to pull down his pajama pants. His briefs were form-fitting red boxers today, but Scotty could tell they were still silk.

“You always wear silk,” he said dumbly as he settled against the headboard.

“It feels nice,” Aiden said. “And I’d like to keep this pair, if you don’t mind.”

“Uh…sure. Sorry,” Scotty agreed in a flustered voice. He was going to absolutely die of embarrassment now.

“Cute,” Aiden whispered. The briefs came off, and he stood before Scotty, nude and too pretty to look at. He wasn’t hard yet, but the view was still breathtaking. 

“Are you going to touch me today? Help turn me on?” The back of his hand brushed up and down his body gently in invitation.

Scotty shook his head and said stiltedly, “I just want to watch.”

“Of course,” Aiden said, and Scotty couldn’t tell one way or the other if he was disappointed in the answer.

Aiden climbed onto the edge of bed facing Scotty, then his left hand reached for the toy that was beside the lube. It was long enough to swing and seemed heavy. Surely the length is just for shock value, not actual use, Scotty wondered. Aiden’s body couldn’t possibly accommodate the whole of the thing.  

He was snapped out of his musing by Aiden’s almost professional tone of voice. “Silicone lubes and silicone toys don’t play well together. That’s why I use a water-based lube with this toy. But water-based lubes dry quickly. I’ll have to add more the longer I play. Make sense?”

Frowning at the sudden lesson, Scotty nodded. 

“This is silicone,” Aiden said, giving the toy a shake that made it swing like a pendulum. “It’s not a cheap toy, and I very much want to keep it in good shape for a long time,” he added. “Luckily it cleans easily, and it gets me off. I’ll show you how.” 

Intrigued, Scotty’s eyes followed the toy as Aiden placed it on the bed. When he looked up again, Aiden had the bottle of Back Door in his hand. He squeezed a heavy amount onto his palm, and rubbed his fingers together to coat them. The lube looked slick and thick. Scotty wondered what it felt like.

“Watch closely,” Aiden said, locking eyes with Scotty. He shifted so that his ass was pointing towards him and braced himself on one arm while the other reached between his legs and back. Some of the lube smeared on his ass cheeks as he moved, but his fingers unerringly found the small pucker between his legs. 

“Can you see well enough?” Aiden asked with his fingertips poised to enter.

“Yeah,” Scotty said softly. He shifted forward for a better view.

“Good,” Aiden breathed, then penetrated himself with his middle finger. “Mm,” he said. “It’s easy right now because I already loosened up in the shower. I’m already pretty open.”

True to his words, his index finger slid in easily as well.

Scotty tried to follow what Aiden was saying, but couldn’t focus on anything but the logistics. It was unbelievable that the douche had fit inside Aiden’s body at all, and even more unbelievable that the huge toy would fit, too. Scotty didn’t see how it was possible. Even Aiden’s fingers seemed too big for that small place, no matter how easily they were sliding into his body.

Aiden’s arm was moving, twisting, and Scotty could see his fingers spreading and forcing the hole wide rhythmically. Three fingers now, with the movements making squishy, slick noises as they thrust in and out. The sheen of the lube on Aiden’s smooth skin caught Scotty’s eyes.  

“Do you do this for yourself? When you’re alone?” Scotty asked suddenly. 

“Finger myself?” Aiden asked to clarify. He hunched lower to push his fingers deeper, and the way his body rolled was obscene.

“Uh. No. With the toy,” Scotty mumbled.

“Mm-hm,” Aiden replied, sounding more aroused now that he’d played with his ass for several minutes.. “Sometimes I want to do it the way I like,” he said. “I want a cock inside me on my terms.”

Scotty went hot and cold at his words. Embarrassment and fascination warred inside him. “Can you get off like this? Just, uh, fingering yourself?” He tried out the new term, feeling very foolish. But the idea that Aiden did get off this way made Scotty feel dizzy.

“No,” Aiden admitted. “Not anymore. It takes more than just my fingers. I just get slick like this. Nice and wet and open. But when I fuck, I need something bigger.”

As if to prove his point, he pulled his fingers free. “Ready?” he asked, which Scotty found bizarre. He felt like he should ask Aiden that. 

At Scotty’s nod, Aiden retrieved the toy and got slowly to his knees. He opened the bottle of lube again, and was generous in how he coated the toy, rubbed it up and down with his slick fingers. Then Aiden got into position. The view was unreal, his long body lifted up and poised above the thing. 

“You’re shaved all over,” Scotty noticed. 

“‘Shaved’? Ha. If only. You certainly do notice odd things at odd times,” Aiden said, then explained, “But yes, most of my clients like me smooth. Do you?”

“Your skin’s pretty,” Scotty admitted. “You look so clean. Like Photoshop or something.”

“Flattery is appreciated, but try to focus, darling. This is for you, after all,” he scolded. “My skin is hardly that interesting right now.”

And Scotty knew he was right, but he felt a little overawed, like he couldn’t tell up from down or left from right. Besides, Aiden’s skin was always interesting. 

Aiden forced one arm behind him, and used that hand to tug his cheeks apart. Then, with the hand holding the toy, he reached back to move the head of the dildo around the slick pucker in a tight, gentle circle. It was clear from his breathing that he was excited, and that teasing himself added to that excitement. His cock was half-hard now, definitely interested in the way he played with his ass.

“Mm,” he said as he started to lower his body and push up with his hand. His eyes closed, and his head dipped back, the expression on his face one of ecstasy. It was beautiful to behold, and Scotty didn’t know where to look. But then Aiden started inserting the toy and the decision was made for him: he couldn’t look away. The size of it seemed to shock Aiden. He panted with his mouth open, and his eyebrows furrowed. Despite the discomfort, he kept pushing, and more inches of the thing disappeared into his hole. 

“Fuck. Been…awhile with something this thick,” he admitted. He pulled the entire thing back out, slicked more lubricant on it so that drops of it fell to the bed, and then went again. It seemed easier this time, but Aiden’s lips pursed in pain. Inch after inch shoved into him, deeper and deeper.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not like you’re thinking,” Aiden explained. “I like it. It feels good to be stretched. To be full.” He pumped the first few inches in and out of himself, and even moaned at what Scotty had to guess was more pleasure than the initial push had given him. He was fucking himself slowly, his hole stretched wide by the thick thing.

“Can you take…all of that?” Scotty asked.

“Watch,” Aiden said on a slow, ragged exhale. He let the toy hang for a moment and squirted more lube onto his hands to coat the remaining length thickly. Then his dripping hands worked in tandem to push more of the toy into his body and a low, long sound slid from his mouth as the thing slid into him. Still only halfway stuffed with the snake-like thing, Aiden stopped, leaned far back to make his body an arch, and pushed and pulled the thing between his legs in a slow, revealing display.

“Oh my God,” Scotty said in shock, for Aiden’s stretched body showed undeniable proof of the toy sliding deep into his bowels. The firm skin of his stomach just below his belly button bulged with each thrust, as if the overlong dildo was trying to escape through his body, and tear him open from the inside. The monstrous toy was reshaping his guts, churning them in unnatural ways. Scotty was horrified and dazzled.

Aiden was watching him when Scotty raised his eyes again, and his expression was carnal. “Talk to me,” Aiden moaned.

“I can see it,” Scotty said dumbly. 

“Mm,” Aiden agreed. “Don’t look away. Watch me take it. Watch me take it all for you.”

Scotty’s dick throbbed at the words, but his mind was still rebelling. “It…it can’t be safe,” was his worried statement.

“Oh, it’s not,” Aiden laughed and agreed breathlessly. Then he let out a particularly intense groan as he pushed the toy in deeper. Scotty’s mouth fell open watching how the bulge shifted up, and then up further. Impossibly, his body took more of the thick hose. 

“You can…ah…absolutely hurt yourself like this. Not recommended,” Aiden added with a grin. “Leave it to us ah professionals. Do a Google search when you’re…mmm…bored. So many things can tear.” His tone was wicked, as if he found Scotty’s discomfort comical. 

“But you do it anyway?” Scotty whispered.

“It feels incredible,” Aiden sighed, and stretched back further, exaggerating the look of the enormous toy moving in his guts. His muscled, narrow middle was a window to the movement inside him; how the thick snake of a dildo forced its way into his body, made room for itself inside him like a battering ram.

Scotty’s palm was already laying against Aiden’s hot, damp, rolling stomach by the time he was aware he had leaned forward with his hand outstretched.

“Scott!” Aiden shouted. 

At that first contact, Aiden went wild, hips jerking as the sounds he made grew louder and more desperate. Scotty suddenly realized he had never touched Aiden before. Not like this. It was unreal to feel the dildo moving against his hand through Aiden’s skin. Incredible to feel Aiden’s skin at all. And this? This was a performance for him, a way for Aiden to show him how he liked it, how he wanted it. That made the contact even more charged. Scotty was transfixed. He could feel Aiden getting fucked; being ripped apart and loving it.

Through some mad athletic prowess, Aiden lifted his free hand, but kept his balance on his knees. He pushed that free hand against Scotty’s hand on his stomach, holding it there. He was trembling. With desire? From exertion? Emotion? Who knew?

His other hand continued to fuck the toy in and out, going deeper and deeper with each thrust.

“Feel it,” Aiden begged. “Feel how I like to be fucked.” His bleary eyes were intense, trained on Scotty. He pushed Scotty’s hand into his stomach harder than Scotty thought was a good idea, grinding it into his belly to feel Scotty more. The thrusts were faster now, his stomach bulging over and over again at speed. 

“Aiden,” Scotty whispered, but nothing beyond that formed on his lips.

“See how full I am?” Aiden moaned.

“Yes,” Scotty said weakly. His palm was hot and wet from Aiden’s body, his fingers throbbing at the sensation of the toy slam, slam, slamming into Aiden deeply.

“Is that…all of it?” Scotty asked. He didn’t dare look down to see.

“No, baby. But I’ll take it all for you,” Aiden said, and Scotty saw his arm jerk in the corner of his eye. Aiden’s stomach suddenly pushed out extremely against Scotty’s hand and then stilled. Near his ribs, too far into his body. 

“Aiden!” Scotty cried.

“Yes!” Aiden suddenly shouted and peaked, falling backwards hard, his knees rolled up beneath his jerking body in a position that couldn’t be comfortable. Aiden pulled Scotty over with him by keeping his hand exactly where it was. Staring down at Aiden falling apart beneath his fingers, Scotty felt like he couldn’t breathe again. It was a common affliction around Aiden.

He came without touching his cock, Scotty thought. How could that thing have felt good inside him? And wasn’t it just like Aiden said? Scotty noticed odd things at odd times. Truthfully, Aiden coming hands-free was hardly the most noteworthy thing happening right then.

Ropes of cum were splashing against Scotty’s wrist, and there was the occasional slap of Aiden’s cock against his arm. Scotty didn’t know what to think or what to do. All he knew was that this was a lot all at once.

They remained like that for long, hazy moments. Aiden shuddered occasionally, aftershocks taking away his control. Scotty stared down at him, turned on and frightened by the flood of emotions drowning him. And Aiden was still the most beautiful creature in the world. Even stuffed full with that unnatural toy, he was a masterpiece.

Aiden was still breathing madly, but his body finally stilled. The hand he’d fucked himself with fell away, leaving the toy embedded inside him to the hilt. His other hand remained on Scotty’s, holding it to his stomach. Scotty could feel the toy hard and stationary beneath his palm, but more intense was the feel of Aiden’s hand still atop his own. 

Slowly, Aiden stroked up and down Scotty’s arm, and the hairs stood up as the sensation shivered through his body.

“Normally last longer,” Aiden said in a huff after several long minutes of gazing at Scotty and touching him sweetly, but he didn’t sound truly upset. “Look how worked up you got me, darling.” One slick hand gestured at the mess of cum all over his body.

“You’re incredible,” Scotty said, barely able to speak at all. “I’ve never seen anything like that. I didn’t know that was even possible. Seeing it move inside your body like that was unreal. Are you hurt?”

“Mm, no. I don’t think you’ll have to take me to an emergency room this time.” Aiden even managed to smile as he said that.

“This time?” Scotty asked, eyes going wide. He couldn’t stop himself from demanding, “Don’t do that anymore.”

Aiden gave a pained laugh. “You want me to stop? Because it’s dangerous?”

“Uh, yeah,” Scotty said. He curled his hand up slowly against Aiden’s stomach, cringing a little at the feel of the toy rubbing hard against his knuckles. 

“Ng,” Aiden grunted at the touch. “Then give me something else to fuck, handsome,” Aiden said with a smile as his eyes drifted down to the obvious bulge in Scotty’s pants. 

“Don’t joke like that,” Scotty grumbled.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Aiden said. “Let me see it.”

Scotty slowly pulled his hand away to lower the fly of his jeans. He shifted just enough to pull them down over his cock, then gripped himself hard. The head was already wet from how turned on he’d been watching Aiden rip himself apart with that thing, so it was easy to stroke himself at speed, pull himself close within seconds.

“Look how hard you are watching me take that big cock,” Aiden said.

“Shit,” Scotty cursed.

Aiden shifted closer by slithering like a snake on his back, groaning as the movement rolled the toy inside him. He stopped when his mouth was almost directly beneath Scotty’s pumping hand.

“Give it all to me,” Aiden demanded. He licked his lips then held his mouth wide, and that view — Aiden’s pretty gaping mouth — was what drove Scotty over the edge.

Gobs of the stuff fell onto Aiden’s chin and lips. Some splattered right onto his waiting tongue, and he made a satisfied noise and licked it all up, swallowed it all down. 

“Shit,” Scotty cursed and spurted again.

“You like that? You like watching me swallow your spunk?” Aiden breathed, and Scotty had to close his eyes as more cum shot from his cock. Aiden could talk dirty better than a porn star. It was probably a skill he’d picked up over the years. Occupational hazards.

Watching Aiden lick up the last of his cum was shocking and arousing. “I don’t…I don’t understand you,” Scotty admitted breathlessly, and let his hands fall to his sides.

The reply he got was a tinkling laugh. “Want to help me pull it out?” Aiden asked. “It feels just as good the other way.” He heaved himself tiredly to his hands and knees, forcing Scotty’s eyes to the flared end of the toy where it protruded from the stretched pucker between his legs.

“I’m afraid of hurting you,” he admitted. 

“I’ll do it, then. Watch me?”

“Yeah,” Scotty said. He’d be a liar if he said he didn’t want to see it happen.

Braced on one arm, Aiden reached back with the other, caught the base of the thing with firm fingers, and pulled. 

“Fuck,” he exhaled. “Oh…fuck…mmm.”

The thing kept coming, and once it was free Aiden just tossed it to the side. It hit the bed with a thud which increased Scotty’s shock. How had he taken that thing? Aiden followed the dramatic gesture by flopping over, and it was the least graceful motion Scotty had ever seen Aiden make. It was understandable: he’d just had endless, too-thick inches of fake cock shoved inside him. He could worry about gracefulness some other time.

“I’m gonna stay here. With you tonight,” Scotty said, not letting it be a question, not giving Aiden a chance to say no. Though why he would, Scotty didn’t know. For whatever reason, Aiden seemed to like him, and that thought made him feel giddy.

“No complaints,” Aiden sighed. “Some requests,” he added.

“Yeah?”

Aiden opened his arms, and Scotty felt a momentary panic. He pushed it down, then let himself pull Aiden close, let himself enjoy the feel of Aiden’s arms coming around him. They were both disgusting, covered in cum and lube and sweat, and it was fine. It was all okay. The damn toy was still on the bed with them and it was all absolutely fine.

“This,” Aiden sighed. “This is nice. This is what I wanted.” 

Scotty nodded. He was drowning in sensation. Aiden’s skin was wet with sweat, but soft underneath the sheen. That fragrance of his was filling his nose and making him want to get off again.

Then Aiden’s hand drifted up, touched the tip of Scotty’s scar, then slid down slowly, stopping at the end of the thing right between his pecs. The touch was a tickle, a tease. 

“Let me lick it?” Aiden asked.

“Um. Okay,” Scotty said, and shuddered at the idea. The wet tickle of Aiden’s tongue made him shake and clutch at Aiden’s strong shoulders. His cock throbbed desperately. 

Aiden pulled away and grinned down at him. “Nice,” he breathed. 

As if that satisfied him, he got comfortable in Scotty’s arms. He wasn’t a shy man, so when he felt Scotty’s erection returning against his thigh, he said, “Sure you don’t want to fuck me? I’m open and wet. I’ll let you come inside me. Then I’ll show you how the douche works.” 

Scotty couldn’t see Aiden’s face with his head buried against his shoulder, but he could hear how wicked his expression must be by the wicked way his voice made that suggestion.

“Goodnight, Aiden.”

“You’re no fun,” was Aiden’s pouting reply. “Thank you for…well. How to make you understand? Let me just say that I quite enjoyed this little game. I liked your eyes watching me.”

“Well, good. Throw that thing away,” Scotty said, frowning.

“I have bigger ones,” Aiden quipped.

Scotty cursed, and that just made Aiden bubble over with laughter.


The morning dawned bright and awful. Aiden was not in bed when Scotty woke, but that was hardly the biggest problem. The bigger problem was that he would never wake up in Aiden’s bed again. The week was over and he felt deflated. 

He only had a few things left to pack, and he dragged his feet about it, but the time came to leave no matter what he tried. It took a few trips to get all their bags back into the car, but Scotty didn’t see Aiden on any of them, though he looked hard. The house was so big he’d have to check every room and the grounds if he wanted to see him. Obviously, Aiden didn’t want to be seen. He had said that he hated goodbyes, hadn’t he? But Scotty didn’t know for sure if that was the reason for his absence, and the not knowing made him feel even worse.

The biggest part of his mind was regret. What could he have done with Aiden if he’d been more certain, less concerned about his identity? Less afraid?

‘Sure you don’t want to fuck me? I’m open and wet. I’ll let you come inside me.’

He wondered if he’d be hearing Aiden’s voice offering him things he’d been too dumb to take for the rest of his life.

The housekeeper was around to see to it that they left in a timely fashion, and didn’t take anything. She didn’t say as much, but her presence and behavior made it clear that it was so. She hovered over them, occasionally encouraging them to get going and “double-check your bathrooms.” 

Dennis thought it was hilarious, but Buck grumbled about her being “pushy.”

They loaded up the trunk and tossed anything that didn’t fit into the back seat. Then Scotty took one last look at the pool and the green grass of the putt-putt course. He looked up to where the window of his temporary room had been. For a sad, sentimental moment, he tried to figure out which room had been Aiden’s, but gave it up as impossible. The place was too big and he really couldn’t tell. 

And then there was nothing left to do. It was time to go.

Buck’s old clunker seemed drab and musty after a solid week living in an expansive paradise. Scotty’s knees pressed into the back of the passenger’s seat, and how had he forgotten what a cramped, awful ride it had been all the way out here?

“Off we go, My Lords,” Dennis cheered as he put her in drive.

Scotty rolled his eyes and prepared for a long, uncomfortable trip. He put his hand in his jacket pocket, and had to bite his tongue not to gasp. He pulled them out, ever so slowly, as secretively as he could. These were new. Well, new to him. They were charcoal black and made of sin. When had Aiden done this? How had he not noticed?

He could imagine Aiden smiling at him with that wicked grin. A souvenir, he’d say.

“Stop the car,” Scotty shouted. 

Dennis slammed on the brakes hard, and everyone grunted as they were flung into their seatbelts. “What? Huh? Did you forget something?”

“Yeah,” Scotty said. He tore off his seat belt, threw open the door, and ran back up the long walkway leading to the front door. 

“Your charger’s in your backpack, idiot!” Buck called after him, but Scotty just ignored him.

Aiden was already opening the door to him when he leaped up the stairs two at a time. His beautiful face was full of emotion, easy to read for once. His arms were open and Scotty crashed into him, pushed him back against the wall by the entranceway, and kissed him harder than he’d ever kissed anyone in his life. His arms went around Aiden’s thin back, and his fingers flexed strongly trying to drag him even closer.

“Scott, Scott,” Aiden chanted in between kisses. Scotty took the opportunity to map out his mouth with his tongue which made Aiden go, “Mmmmm,” and wasn’t that nice? Aiden tasted good — fresh and clean, just a little sweet.

Scotty’s hands moved on their own; shoved into the front of Aiden’s expensive shirt; rumpled it as he exposed his chest to his hands — to the probing of his fingertips over every plane and peak he found. Aiden made more pleased noises at his touch, and touched him right back, traced his scar first over his shirt, then under it with fingers that were cool like he’d been holding a cold glass. Scotty shivered and pushed into Aiden’s hands.

He stopped teasing Aiden’s chest long enough to bury his fingers in his hair, mussing the careful style like he’d always wanted to. The strands were like silk, as soft as the briefs he’d found in his pocket, and he moaned at the idea that his fingers would smell like Aiden for hours on the road.

They broke apart at last, and Scott was breathless like he’d scored a touchdown. Cupping Aiden’s face, he felt like he was holding fine crystal. His thumb traced over his bottom lip. 

“I should have done that days ago,” Scotty panted.

Aiden closed his eyes and lowered his face. “Ah, regrets,” he said softly. When he looked up, he gave Scotty a weak smile. 

They kissed again — a deep, desperate kiss — and Aiden really wasn’t shy, so his hands cupped Scotty’s ass and dragged their hips flush together. “That’s for you,” Aiden whispered into his ear. “All for you.”

His erection was hot even through the layers of their clothing, and Scotty suddenly remembered the look of it, the sight of Aiden jerking himself in time to Scotty’s own movements. Aiden bit his earlobe, and Scotty felt reckless and needy. They kissed again and their tongues rubbed together wetly. Aiden moaned his name, rocked against him like they could just fuck right here.

Scotty was just wondering how far he would be able to go — how far he would let himself go with Adien — when Dennis leaned on the horn.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Scotty cursed, pulling away reluctantly from Aiden’s sweet mouth. 

Aiden glanced towards the sound. His lips were swollen from the force of Scotty’s kiss. 

“I suppose you have to go now,” he said, then reached into the pocket of his slacks, extracting an elegant, embossed business card that he slipped into the breast pocket of Scotty’s shirt. 

“That is my personal number, handsome,” he whispered, placing his hand over it, feeling Scotty’s pounding heartbeat. “Make sure to call. I’ll answer day or night.”

Scotty closed his eyes, concentrated on Aiden’s hand. They’d touched so few times and now each instance was special to him.

“Tell me you’re real,” Scotty said, still not opening his eyes.

“Oh, I’m real,” Aiden said. He kissed him briefly, then shoved him away. “Call me and I’ll prove it to you. Now go before he honks that bloody horn again.”

Scotty opened his eyes and backed away, watching Aiden the whole way, memorizing the whole of him. He turned at last, and jogged back to the car, aware of Aiden watching him. 

Idly, he wondered what his friends would say about it all.


Things changed once they went back to their old lives — the old boring, normal lives they’d had before Aiden. Scotty could think of his life in two messy halves: Before Aiden and After Aiden.

After Aiden, Dennis kept making money and enjoying all the things money could buy him. Perhaps even more than Before Aiden, for he bought more toys — a boat, an RV — and disappeared to exotic locations at the drop of a hat. His life got bigger, and Scotty’s felt small in comparison. Buck complained that talking to Dennis wasn’t so fun anymore.

“All he does is brag,” he said.

Dennis, however, seemed determined to share his life with them. Or just with Scotty, really, and it worried him. It was difficult to trust his motives.

“Scotty, come with me. You’ve got to see this island. Just you and me this time. It’ll be fun. You won’t have to pay for a thing. My treat.”

But Scotty declined that time, and every time after. Despite his promise to forget Dennis’ confession and jealousy, he never really did. And despite Dennis’ protests that they were just friends — that he wasn’t still hung up on Scotty, that it was old news — as time went on, Scotty got the idea that Dennis was lying. To Scotty and to himself. 

It made him wonder about the nature of their friendship all these years. It had been built on a lie, hadn’t it? Dennis hadn’t been around him to be his friend; he’d wanted something more, and it was dishonest, Scotty decided. It tainted every memory he had of their time together. Why had Dennis suddenly joined the football team in high school? Scotty had a pretty good idea now, and felt stupid for not seeing it before. 

Sometimes weeks went by without a phone call or text message. It was just more proof of what Scotty had been aware of for some time: they were growing apart. Scotty wondered if it had always been inevitable, with or without Aiden. He’d never know.

After Aiden for Buck, well, he decided, almost overnight, to grow up. Only, no, it wasn’t his decision; the choice was made for him. It happened in a flash in the fourth quarter of a regular season game. Just a normal game like any other. Only…

Buck seemed to fly when he took the hit. The sound was a crunch followed by a snap, but Scotty wasn’t really aware of hearing anything over the sound of his own shout. He watched it all from the stands feeling detached, like watching a movie.

For Buck, football lost its glamour after a concussion and two broken bones that left him sidelined for a whole semester. Scotty wondered if Buck was afraid now; if maybe he’d seen his life flash before his eyes as the ground smashed into his head and dragged him down to black unconsciousness. Maybe the life he’d seen had been an empty one filled with parties and booze and fucking and hard hits that sent him sprawling into the touchline like a toy tossed by a child. Only Buck knew if that was the moment he realized that he didn’t want the life he saw anymore. 

He couldn’t play, so in his free time he started watching HGTV and the Property Brothers with Scotty. Buck watched the shows seriously, didn’t even make lewd comments about the twin hosts of the show now. Instead he said things like, “I want a house like that. Did you see the fireplace? Kids would love that. Marshmallows, right? Can you imagine?” 

The man-child he had been was buried beneath the bandages and stitches; or maybe he had been left to rot on the sidelines the night of the game that took Buck’s football career away.

One day he said, “I want to meet somebody. Get married, you know? We’ll build a house like that together. Have a family.” 

And right then Scotty knew that Buck had passed him by. Somehow, he had become more ready for the real world than Scotty. Certainly more mature than Scotty.

And Buck did meet a nice girl. For a bit it seemed serious. Then he met a nice boy, and it was even more serious. He dropped out, got a job (to pay for a ring, he said); worked a nine-to-five; bought a reliable sedan. He started talking about the future and forever and Scotty didn’t recognize him anymore.

It was fitting since he didn’t really recognize himself anymore, either. Because, After Aiden for him, he thought of Aiden constantly. He’d had ex-girlfriends he’d dated for months and forgotten in days. But not Aiden. One week and he was a permanent fixture in Scotty’s memory.

The business card was used as a bookmark in the only novel Scotty had ever finished without it being an assignment, A Separate Peace. He figured it was just as well since the book was pretty damn gay, and he was feeling pretty damn gay for Aiden. He didn’t get much of what the book was trying to say, but he was pretty sure Gene had the hots for Finny, and was just bad at saying it. So here Scotty was, feeling a lot like Gene. He hoped he got a better ending because people straight up died in the book like gay love just always led to death and regret or something. He didn’t like that idea.

Every day, in the morning, he thought of Aiden. In the evening, he thought of Aiden. Especially at night, there was Aiden. He could hear his voice in his mind, imagine the curve of his mouth as he smiled.

Only, he didn’t call the number Aiden gave him. He took it from between the pages of the book frequently, sometimes more than once a day. And he stared at the lovely lettering that spelled out Aiden’s name, imagined that the card smelled like him though it smelled like nothing at all. The card looked a little grubby from the times he held it, stared at it, picked up his phone, and thought hard about dialing.

The reason he couldn’t call eluded him, but he knew it was important. As solid as the wall he’d tried to jump as a kid, and just as big of a roadblock. Whatever the reason, the takeaway was clear: he couldn’t call Aiden. Not yet.

He let Buck drag him to a gay bar one weekend. Though he was approached a few times, Scotty didn’t like any of the guys he saw. He found something wrong with all of them, and Buck told him he had impossible standards.

“That guy’s cute,” he tried, refusing to give up, and pointing at a stocky guy in the corner. 

But after approaching him at Buck’s insistence and having a chat, Scotty returned to their table with nothing to report.

“What was wrong with this one?” Buck demanded. He was clearly upset that his role as Cupid was going poorly. 

“He wasn’t what I’m looking for,” was all Scotty said. Buck looked at him thoughtfully, and Scotty was suddenly reminded of Dennis chiding him for underestimating Buck’s intelligence. 

“Guess you’re right,” Buck agreed too easily.

Later that night, when they were both fall-down drunk, and barely making it back to Scotty’s dorm, he looked right at Scotty and slurred, “So what the hell are you waiting for? I know he gave you his number. Fucking call him, dude.”

The heavy words that formed Scotty’s answer stuck in his throat, but he forced them out because Buck wasn’t as dumb as he treated him, and Buck was trying to help. Buck was being a good friend, like always, really, and Scotty was a jerk for not appreciating that more. And the answer was there, which was new. The very thing that kept his thumb poised over the dial pad without moving was right there if he could man-up and just fucking face it.

Scotty clutched Buck’s shoulders too hard and said, “I want to know who I am. Who I really am. Then when I see him again, I won’t be a stranger to myself. I won’t be lying to him or to me. To Myself. I’ll be me. Scotty. Scott. And I won’t be confused or need his help. He’ll see me for who I am, and I’ll be a better man for him. I’ll deserve him then. You know?”

Buck blinked at him slowly. “No, I don’t know. What the fuck are you talking about? Shit, I’m gonna puke.”

And then he did, all over Scotty’s shoes. He never brought up Aiden again.

Scotty went on a handful of dates with a few boys after that; cute boys he met online. Nothing spectacular, but he didn’t have a sobbing panic attack in public, either, which had to count for something. All his dates were so understanding and kind about his identity crisis that it was humbling. None of them pressured him. They didn’t seem bothered that there were limits to what he was willing to do in bed; that some things still scared him. 

‘It’s not easy, no. But between friends, it doesn’t have to be so hard,’ Aiden reminded him in his memories. The words gave him comfort. 

So he didn’t have a boyfriend at the end of all his blind dates, no, but maybe he’d made some new friends. What a reversal from Dennis, he mused: dates that became friends instead of friends trying to be dates. It was almost funny. Well, almost.

He tried to remember what Buck had said when he came out to him way back when, but alas it was so long ago that he couldn’t remember it perfectly. Knowing Buck, he’d probably just said, “Dude, I’m bi, let’s go get a beer.”

Buck had always been stronger. He could see that now.

After Aiden, Scotty practiced saying it in the mirror to see if the words came out smoothly. “I’m bi. I’m bisexual. I like boys, too,” he whispered to his reflection. God, he’d have to tell his mom one day and then what?

On bad days, he argued with himself, turning red in anger. “I’m not. I just like him. It’s not the same thing.”

Other days were better, those rare days when the truth didn’t seem so big or scary. He held on to Aiden’s words like they were a liferaft in a choppy ocean.

‘Sexuality isn’t some spreadsheet where you pop in the right values and get an answer. Girls in this column and boys in that one. Straight over here, gay over there? That’s not how it works. Write your name in the column you like.’

On very bad days, he jacked off brutally to the thought of Aiden grinding against the bedpost; Aiden licking the length of his scar; Aiden fucking himself with that awful, twisted toy.  

One desperate, miserable day, he went online and looked the thing up, found videos of young, thin, muscled men using the toy the way Aiden had, their stomachs pushing out mercilessly at the invasion. He stripped his cock raw watching video after video, imagining each one of those tortured boys with Aiden’s face.

And sometimes, he cried himself to sleep straining to remember the feel of Aiden’s mouth against his and the smell of Aiden’s hair on his fingers.

The week of graduation, Dennis came to visit, and they both got so drunk to celebrate that the world blurred and swayed. Back at his dorm, Dennis pushed him against a wall and kissed him hard, chanting, “Scott, Scott. My Scott.” 

Dennis’ hands were hard on his cheeks, holding him in place for the forced push of his tongue into his mouth, the desperate bite of teeth on his lower lip. “Want you, come on. Want you so bad,” Dennis slurred, crowding him with his body.  

And Scotty felt nothing, only the scream of his own mind that Aiden calls me Scott. Not you.

He pushed Dennis away, not unkindly, but firmly. “You’re wasted,” he said, and even smiled. “Let’s crash.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dennis mumbled, but his eyes were still trained on Scotty’s mouth. 

In the morning, neither of them mentioned it, but Scotty wasn’t fooled anymore. Dennis had been lying to him for years — playing the friend while wanting to be a lover. He could see through the mask. Dennis hadn’t given up. He didn’t know how to, and Scotty…he couldn’t make himself feel things he didn’t. It wasn’t fair to either of them.

So Scotty graduated with a business degree, and the unwanted taste of Dennis’ mouth against his. He graduated down one friend and slowly losing another — to adulthood of all things. 

Nobody was there to help him pack up his crap to move back home, and it was the loneliest he’d ever felt taping boxes closed, sealing away four years of his life, like archiving it for posterity. Four years in the dark about absolutely everything. His diploma looked kind of goofy on his old, empty desk. Right then, it didn’t mean very much. 

His parents were glad to have him back, but he got a job at a marketing firm almost immediately, and earned enough within three months to get his own place. His parents did help him move into the apartment, and sometimes his mother cried that her, “Baby is all grown up!” 

But between his parents and himself, the move was accomplished. He wondered if they’d always be on his side. Both his mom and dad seemed happy to help and proud. It made him feel like one day, maybe soon, he’d say what he’d been practicing in the mirror to them. 

“Mom, Dad, I like boys, too.”

He’d say it just like that, and watch their faces to gauge their reactions. 

But not now. There would be time for that. 

His new place was sparsely decorated — he hadn’t earned that much yet — but it was his. He unpacked a little at a time, filled it up with the few things he had, and it started to feel like home. Everything, one jagged piece at a time, was starting to click. 

On a chilly Friday evening in November, he stood in the center of his living room with the smudged and fading business card in one hand, and his cell phone in the other. When he dialed his hands were steady.

It rang twice, and then a voice spoke.

“This is Aiden,” said the voice on the other end.

“Hi,” Scotty said.

There was a long pause, long enough that Scotty wondered if Aiden had just hung up. But at last Aiden said, “Scott. My, my. I wondered when you’d call. Miss me?”

“Every day,” Scotty answered.

“Flatterer,” Aiden said, and it was so familiar that Scott’s heart hurt to hear it. He tried to imagine him. Had he changed his hair? Perhaps he had new, fashionable glasses he didn’t need.

“It’s not flattery. It’s the truth,” he said. He took a deep breath. “In fact, I called because I want to tell you something.”

Aiden was silent for several tense seconds before saying simply, “I’m listening.”

His tone was as difficult to interpret as ever, so Scotty couldn’t tell if Aiden was irritated with him or not. Was he over him? Angry that months and months had passed with Scotty never calling, not even once?

There was just no way for Scotty to tell. But the truth was that it didn’t matter. He’d called to say what he had to say, and he was at peace with that. Whatever Aiden said when he was finished, he’d live with the consequences. He took a deep breath, and spoke.

“I don’t know if you even want to hear this. I don’t know if you care, but it’s the truth: the minute I first saw you — the very minute I first saw you — I should have taken you upstairs and made love to you right then.”

Aiden gasped. “Scott —”

“And I should have spent every minute of every day in that mansion with you,” Scotty interrupted. “I should have kept you all to myself. I should have written my name on your heart. That’s the column I want. The one that gets me you.”

Aiden didn’t speak, but it was just as well: Scotty’s heart was pounding so fast he didn’t know if he’d be able to hear anything Aiden said over the symphony of his heartbeat anyway. But it wasn’t so loud in the end because he could hear Aiden perfectly when he spoke at last.

“I’m still a prostitute, Scott. You know that won’t change.” His tone was flat, matter-of-fact. 

“I don’t really care,” Scotty admitted. “I just want you. And I’m sorry I didn’t call right away. I…had to figure out who I am.”

“And now you know?” Aiden asked. Scotty heard the sound of something creaking over the line, as if Aiden had sat down hard on a chair. Perhaps he was somewhere elegant, off to France or Germany again.

“Yeah. Now I know. I’m whatever I need to be if I can have you.”

“Dammit,” Aiden cursed, but his voice hitched on the word, and Scotty wanted to be there, to hold him, to promise him that it was all true. Every single word. Aiden was silent for a long time.

“Talk to me,” Scotty begged.

“Fucking straight boys,” Aiden sighed, and Scotty wanted to laugh out loud. Aiden wasn’t mad at him. Aiden just didn’t know what to do or say, and, yeah, Scotty could admit that he’d dumped a lot on him. His reaction made sense.

“Don’t hang up or anything like that. Please.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Aiden snapped, but there was no real bite to it. “So, where are you?” 

At Scotty’s answer, Aiden gave one of his lovely little laughs. “That’s not so far, in the grand scheme of things. Got a pencil and paper?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Scotty said, then fumbled around in an unpacked box for paper. “Shoot,” he said, hunched over it at his desk.

When he finished writing, a quick search online told him that the address was over two hours away if he took the highways. Not a bad trip at all. Not so far, in the grand scheme of things, just like Aiden said.

“Is it…can I come over now?” Scotty asked, feeling elated and stupid and giddy and scared all at once.

“Start driving, handsome,” Aiden said with that same, familiar smile in his voice. 

So Scotty drove, and was completely amazed that he didn’t get a ticket for speeding. He made it in an hour and a half.

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4 thoughts on “The Professional Mary-Ann

  1. “Of course it’s a turning-a-straight-boy-gay fantasy. Don’t be daft.” Ha!

    I loved the emotional depth of the characters in this straight-boy fantasy. It was also pretty hot

  2. I really enjoyed the different themes this worked with, especially the idea of sexuality being a personal, often hard-to-pin-down thing and bisexuality…existing. Scotty’s very possibly still got a lot of figuring out to do, but by golly he’s made some big steps! There was SO much sex here but nothing felt copy-pasted, each scene having its own life and character if it was longer than “aw man Dennis is banging Aiden on the couch in front of everybody again.” Seeing how all three leads changed after their week-long adventure, for better or for worse, was also quite satisfying, especially since Buck got the chance to grow up. I hope he and Scotty can reconnect later in life, their relationship struck me as one of the least busted on display where non-Aiden parties are involved.

    I also spent much of my reading time with the Gilligan’s Island theme song tormenting me, so if that was a desired effect, congratulations: I was right and truly cursed. Well done.

  3. Aiden’s introductory description is so perfect — it really hits home not just that he’s stupidly attractive, but that /Scotty/ is having his socks knocked off. Sweet guy, but wow, I wanted to shake him through most of the story. Especially when he and Dennis were arguing about whether or not he was gay. Like, guys, your friend Buck who is bi is RIGHT THERE, there are options beyond straight or gay and you know they exist! Argh. At least he developed some sense in the end! :)

  4. Okay obviously this is obscenely hot, but also I really enjoyed how many feelings this week-long fuckfest gave Scott. Here’s a Letter to Penthouse setup, now sit here and examine how it makes you feel.

    I also really liked how genuine Aiden and Scott’s relationship felt, even though it was compressed and unexpected for both of them!

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