When Morning Comes Ch. 02
This chapter acts as a "not a lot of sex but necessary for the plot" scenario. My apologies.
Chapter 2: Finding a Place
"But wasn't that a while ago, right? That was like, before the latest incident."
I shrugged. "To be honest, I've met plenty of dudes on those apps. And you could too if you relaxed a little." I took a drink of my coffee, watching him shake his head. "Just..." I added quickly, "don't let me see your profile."
"Nathan, you're so naughty. I'm referring to your...uh...your situation with your...coworker?" I set down my mug, already tense about where this was leading. "How's that going?" My face darkened. "It's not progressing much," I told him, sighing deeply. "I've barely talked to him." My uncle tilted his head at my vague response.
"What's up? Did you meet him at work, right?"
I grinned. "Well, kind of. It's not like strictly at work." It wasn't entirely untrue. "My job...well, my old job, that was where I met him." I recalled the dingy building clearly. "It was a vacant commercial building on Riverside Drive. I was cleaning it for the company that owned it. He was an employee there." My uncle nodded in understanding.
"Yes, yes. Oh, yes. Yes, that feels great. So fucking great. Fuck your daddy's ass, fuck..."
Man, he was exhausting. But he was quite the lover. That was, really, his only good quality.
Underneath me, this encounter's hookup lay flat on the table I was fucking him on. An abandoned, deserted office was our background. Just two lustful gentlemen enjoying themselves.
This older guy had a good body: slender, yet softened with time, and completely covered in attractive silver-brown fur. I rubbed my hands over his hard chest, over the curious scar on his stomach. He was fertile, always ready for action.
He was a little too chatty for my liking.
"Oh, fuck yeah, Nathan," he moaned, gripping the weight of my body under his hands. "Oh, fuck, you hot fucker." He moved my breasts, massaging them with a childish excitement. "You fuck me so well, baby, so well, so fucking well..."
"Mmhm," I grunted, trying my best to pick up the pace. My cock was so close to cumming, and yet not quite there. 'Come on, you horny bastard!' I thought. 'Just shoot your load in me already! Damn!'
For a whole year of my life, I'd worked at a drab commercial building near the Riverside Drive. Nothing special about it, probably similar to the other buildings in the area. I'd turned it into a fuck palace. The first time we had sex, in this very office, his vocalizations had spiced it up so much. It made the encounter feel even more vivid.
He loved the daddy thing, loved the power dynamic found in a young person using an older man's ass. But lately, he's become more of a consolation. Just a man to fall back on when I couldn't find someone else, or if a date went south. What a depressing situation, indeed. A man who's backup.
Being single in Ottawa had its perks, but the city had a bad habit of repetition. You'd go to any bar, any party, any dating app — you'd always run into the same set of guys. And even when I tried to avoid it, someone as ubiquitous as my own Tito Jon was there. Kill me right now.
And this guy, well — he showed up to every event. The man was always lurking in the background. But he was better than nothing, wasn't he? Someone with whom I couldn't do much worse. He was handsome, no denying that. He'd make a perfect daddy in a twink's dreams, but more like a saucy fuck sleeve.
I let out a sigh. Maybe that was why I even gave him a try in the first place. But you know what they say about taking care of strays: they keep coming back. Over and over again. And it was starting to tire me out.
"Ugh, grr," I mutter, trying not to utter anything. It's not the first time. No, not even the one billionth. That's why I pulled back and shoved into him with force. His strained moan filled the room; the sound absorbed into the carpeted floor, the cubicles. He lowered his hand, his body falling under me. I seized his ankles to gain better traction, and moved my hips away from him.
"Do you like that?" I snarled in his ear through the haze. He cried out his responses.
The following minutes were a collage of his moaning, my pants, and the sound of flesh hitting flesh. I was so angry my penis felt good, but apparently not good enough to just cum and send this guy home. He uttered a sequence of words over and over again, as if it was a mantra; filling the air with his frantic repetition.
Finally, I pulled out just far enough, and the position of my dick head pushed against his entrance hit me just right. I felt the initial signs of weakness in my legs threatening to throw me off balance. Giving out one last groan, I lost control. I pushed deeper into him and trembled through my climax. It shook my whole body. My semen splattered against the wall of the condom and spread back out across my penis.
Panting, he raised his one free hand; his other hand, he was furiously masturbating with. By the time he exclaimed--repeatedly--that he was ejaculating, I was already mentally elsewhere, coming down from the rush.
As if by automatic routine, I handed him a clean towel. Then we went through the motions; I removed the condom, cleaned my penis, and hid the evidence. Listen--this was the workplace after all, and I really didn't want my boss or colleagues finding this stuff in the morning, even if the horny security guard guarding the entrance had my back. Shit, he probably had a date lined up for after I left, too.
By the time he'd managed to clean up and dress, I'd already wiped down the table and stored the evidence in a trash bag. Like a night janitor is expected to do. Besides the noticeable scent of sweat, sex, and cum lingering in the lukewarm air, there were almost no signs that I'd just utilized my workplace to have sex in. I watched him straighten his shirt sleeves, his eyes glancing towards an imaginary mirror as he smoothed his hair.
"Got somewhere to go after this?" I asked him sarcastically.
"Home," he stated simply. "I need to catch a nap before work tomorrow. They're sending me to Halifax for a week." He sighed extravagantly. "It's bothersome, but at least my job is paying for the whole trip. But Halifax is beautiful this time of year, so it'll be a nice little getaway, I reckon. Have you ever been?"
I loathed the way he stretched out his words and presented them to me as if he wanted me to be amazed. To gawk at his life and shower him with admiration. Yes sir, you're so much cooler and more successful than I, I love having sex with someone so exceptionally accomplished.
"Nope," I answered, sorting the rags into a bag I could dump out. He shuffled about, almost twitching, before I saw him approach me in the corner of my eye. In a flash, he was in front of me, locking eyes with mine. Those intense green eyes. That's when he leaned in for the kiss. Naturally, he aimed for my lips, but I turned my head away.
The first time I'd done that, he'd protested to me. "What, you can't even kiss me after you fuck me?" he'd asked. Now, he merely nodded and departed. He knew his way out by now.
Connecting with someone was a last-resort endeavor, and the rest of the night passed as easily as butter. The last thing I did was switch the lights back on in the hallway that led to this office room. The security camera posted there would then have something to record.
"You're fortunate it's only me tonight, Nate," the guard taunted me through a smirk as I passed his station at the end of the night. He swiveled in his seat to face me, and I could see him stroking his bulge. "Could hear you from the fifth floor."
He wasn't an unattractive guy, just straight. I might even say he was reasonably handsome. "I'll be quieter next time," I informed him.
"Ha! Next time." He nodded me off. "Get gone. My lover is arriving soon." Just like I said--it all worked out for everyone involved. I was positive it was highly illegal.
At last, I was outside and able to breathe in the city air at 3 AM without being confined to a building. In Alta Vista, not many people were up and about at this hour compared to earlier in the day. I found peace in the darkness; it was perfect for my night job and my night hookups.
I lit a joint and inhaled deeply of the pungent smoke. The familiar calming sensation spread throughout my body. The mix of sex and marijuana was the ultimate high. In the background, I could hear the hum of traffic from the nearby highway as my footsteps echoed softly on the pavement. Suddenly, my phone vibrated. "Ugh," I thought, "here we go again."
Aaron Rodriguez: "Thanks again for tonight, stud! ... "
I ignored this message and scrolled to another that had come in during my encounter with Aaron. One that meant much more to me.
Josh Beckett: "Nate, are you awake? ... I just know you're usually in Alta Vista this time of the day ... can you come pick me up from this party? Sorry."
Nathan Liemco: "I'm on my way, dude. Where are you?"
Even before he finished typing his address, I had already started my car and was driving towards him. Disregarding my own appearance, I had to get to him as quickly as possible.
In my mind, my friend Josh was someone who had a protective side to him. Three years younger than me, but his stature made him appear older. He was a giant with a muscular build, looking like he could throw a punch. Yet, he was a gentle soul, really coming alive when he was with his small group of friends.
When I pictured him at this party, surrounded by strangers, it was worrisome. My idea to bring him here might come back to haunt me. I couldn't help but feel responsible for him. And now, it was up to me to save him from being pressured into drinking. I had to embrace the anxiety developing within me.
I had finished my joint by the time I reached the address. It was a stranger's house, and so was Josh. The houses around us were bathed in the orange glow of a streetlight, making them look a bit mysterious. There was something special about the darkness. And there was Josh, slumped down on the steps, looking exhausted. His eyes were hollow as he watched a group of girls on the porch, sipping drinks and paying no attention to him.
"Josh!" I called out. He turned to look at me with a nervous smile, waving goodbye to the girls.
"Thanks for picking me up, Nate. How was your shift?"
"It was fine; it was easy tonight," I replied flatly. "You know, one of our coworkers had gum stuck under his desk. He's probably regretting it now." I glanced at Josh, his expression lightened up and he giggled.
"Our boss already mentioned it. I let her know about it. After you told me."
We both laughed. I reached over and took the crumpled brownie in his hand, giving it to me. "What's this for?" I asked, looking at it.
"This is for you, man. Thanks for picking me up. Take it. I took it from the party." His voice was soft as he dropped the now-crinkled treat in my cup holder.
Laughing, he relaxed in the passenger seat. His phone had connected to my stereo, playing his playlist. I didn't want to say anything, just drive. The dark interior of the car was illuminated by a passing streetlamp. The heavy silence filled the void. I continued to drive aimlessly, eventually finding myself back in my neighborhood.
As we approached the bridge to the downtown core, I decided to abandon the route and pulled into an empty parking lot. Filled with potential, it was bathed in the orange sheen of the streetlight. Josh sighed.
This was where we'd had our last in-depth chat, and I found it amusing that this was the case. It was the same spot where, a week back, I'd urged him to go to this soiree that several members of his division had arranged. Now, I examined the result, propped against my car, admiring the night sky. An absent look adorned his pouty countenance. The guy who wished to vanish.
"...and those ladies, dude, I'm not sure," he was saying now, recounting the details of his most recent experience at that party. He only had one save grace, and that was not getting belligerently intoxicated and disgracing himself. However, his face was distant as he relayed his night. "They appeared so attracted to me. Then...I froze. I don't know why."
"...okayyy..." I dragged out, settling into the flow of our regular chatter. "I'll hazard a guess then. I'm gonna go on a limb and assert that it was when they started being too forceful with you. True?" He nodded, hung his head; I witnessed the intensity of his seemingly pressed-together brows.
"Why do I do that, pal?" he grumbled to the empty air, his aggravation manifest on his face as it was lit by the streetlight. From my stance on the concrete parking bumper, I took in the view of him. He appeared tense, on the verge of falling apart, verging on blastoff. He was glowing with the color orange from the streetlight, warming his dense, dark-night brown skin; light seemed to vanish into his flawlessly smooth face.
Truthfully, I was conflicted about Josh. He had just shared how women—women plural—were tempting him. And he froze and pulled back.
Honestly, had he looked like Josh, I wouldn't comprehend how to act. He towered over me by a foot, and even though I was a large man, he possessed shoulders as expansive as my waist. He could hold someone snugly, and they'd simply become lost in his sizable, accepting embrace.
"Josh, friend," I mumbled, nudging his ankle with my foot. "C'mon now, I just don't get you, sir."
He shrugged and chuckled morosely. "Believe me, I agree. Man, girls—two separate girls—were trying to dance with me, drink with me, and go home with me and more... But I f*cked it up, large." If I guessed that the said women were those who were on the porch witnessing his departure, then he was nuts. They were hot.
"F*cking hell...that aligns up with the literal thing we discussed." He shot me a cringing look. "You remember what you said? That thing you wanted? What the hell was it, dude? You wanted to...be a slut?" I stretched my hands out before me, pointing to the smoke screens he lacked.
He exhaled. "Saying it is one thing. But actually going out and doing it is something else entirely." He pressed his fingertips onto his nose, wrinkling his face in a frustrated scowl. "I know it doesn't make sense. I wish I could comprehend what was going on in my head, but I don't know either." He looked down at me, eyes heavy with remorse. "But c'mon, man, you recall what I said about the connection thing?"
"I do, yeah," I confirmed.
"I simply can't hook up," he had confided in me one night, with the weighty seriousness of a guy who had been drinking for hours. "I need the connection. And what if I create a connection with someone who doesn't truly want me?" They were common dating concerns, for sure; you'd hear Josh's identical story from many others. Shit, I had them too, but I never pondered them deeply.
Thing was, not many others looked like Joshua Beckett. He wasn't this formidable Black bear of a guy who offered great hugs...probably cuddles too. Just what the hell.
"I wanna try again," he mumbled. "But perhaps a party wasn't the best setting." He kicked a nearby rock. "Shit, buddy. Imagine being 24 and still a virgin. Not even kissed."
"So try again, friend," I said, swallowing. "You can do it."
Yet again, that rueful smile made an appearance. "You don't seem convinced."
"Nobody gave a damn about me," he grumbled, his hands in his pockets. "It's so absurd, yes, but...I'm a person, dude. Not merely a person for sex." He sniffed, put his hands up. "I can't be like you. No offense, Nate--you do what you want. But I can't do what you want like you."
"No offense taken, buddy," I said with a sigh. "But I think what you want and what you need are two entirely distinct things. That's the reason for your predicament." He sighed, and that unexpected thought arose in my brain: 'I may be able to address one of those issues right here, right now.' But I didn't, as that was forbidden. Josh was off-limits, and I refused to jeopardize our relationship.
He peered down at me once more, a mysterious hazy emotion floating in his eyes that I couldn't identify. His face appeared enveloped in my vision, illuminated a soft, dark amber by the night.
"Sometimes..." he murmured, "sometimes, dude, I wish it were you." That twisting sensation tightened around my spine and refused to let go. I remained silently, fixedly staring at him.
I looked up at him, my eyes scanning. I didn't overlook how my stomach tightened at what he'd said. "You're the only person I can speak so openly with. I don't know...you're a unique case." He raised his hands again, his face obscured. "Whooa, sorry, Nate. I'm still a bit tipsy. Sorry. I'm just saying things."
"No problem...buddy..." I stood, allowing myself to take in the sight of Josh, hating myself for it. I couldn't believe he'd said that. In spite of myself, my fists clenched and unclenched. "Let's get you home, okay? I still need to get to bed."
He slapped his forehead. "Ugh, I'm so sorry! Yeah, let's do that--can I take you back sometime?"
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Josh," I said through a smile. I signaled for my passenger to leave the car.
By the time I reached Josh's apartment, just a stone's throw away from mine, I was exhausted. Exhausted from work, exhausted from settling for half-decent sex with Aaron, and exhausted from trying to decipher my forbidden, my unsaid yearning for Josh out of my heart.
I couldn't do it. He'd said so himself, that he couldn't risk jeopardizing a friendship by adding benefits. That was one of his stipulations he'd entrusted to me. And I understood that; I knew from experience what transgressing that line may do. The friends I'd lost when I was younger because of my eagerness... I respected Josh, and it was the least I could do.
Truthfully, I was probably one of Josh's closest friends, a thought that depressed me given that we'd only known each other for a little over a year, and we'd met at work. I couldn't ruin that. But fuck, the way he stood there in the artificial light of the lobby, the shadows carved by the light highlighting his best features...
The devil within me craved chaos.
"Thanks again, Nate," he called, a sleepy smile adorning his features. "I love you, friend."
"No problem, friend. Love you too." I waved him off. I'd tell Josh I loved him as easily as I told anyone else. Strangely, he said it back occasionally, even first. That was just how things were. I drove back home, holding onto the brownie Josh had handed me.
Upon arriving at my cramped apartment in the Meadowlands area, I made sure to close the door softly to avoid the barrage from my roommate. Not that I paid any mind to their criticisms, but I wanted to avoid the headache.
I walked past his room where I heard him and his girlfriend snoring gently. How carefree of them. I thought of the married men I'd previously had sex with--like Aaron. His marriage that ended in a catastrophe. And let's not forget Tito Jon--he and Tita Rachael had been together for ten years before. I understood why Josh didn't want to jump into a commitment; I was, in a way, similar.
What if everything ended in utter disaster? The thought disturbed me. None of it mattered! I couldn't wish that destruction for myself, nor for a second time.
'But maybe,' proposed the dark, stubborn thought, 'Josh would be different.' Be quiet, be quiet. I couldn't be naive; I couldn't afford to be. Not for myself, but definitely not for Josh. And that's why he remained out of bounds, even though the men of the city of Ottawa were fair game.
Following my shower, I drifted off to sleep unclothed. As I finally dozed off, Early morning light was starting to show, forming a dim line against the horizon's night-blue backdrop. If I'd been more alert, the final images in my mind might have brought a sense of melancholy.
However, fatigue took over and pushed aside any negativity. Thank goodness, as sadness was something I tried to avoid. That solitude was what I sought when I eventually dozed off, in the rich, dark blue that preceded the morning sun.
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