Destiny (Waiting for Forever) (20 page)

“Fine,” Emilio told him as Mike winked at the host. “I get Brian, he’s cuter anyway.” Playing along, I put my arm around Emilio’s waist and stuck my tongue out at Mike, making him laugh. When Emilio’s hand slipped down over my ass as we made our way through the crowd to our table, I leaned in and kissed his cheek. They were trying so hard to get me to have fun and relax; it hurt to think that soon, I wouldn’t see them every day. So I’d give them what they wanted: I’d kick back and have fun. I owed it to them, and I owed it to me.

When we were seated, a harried-looking waitress stopped by to tell us she would be with us shortly. Mike distributed the menus our host had dropped on the table while flirting outrageously. I opened mine and looked through the list.

“Anything look good?” Emilio asked from over the top of his menu. I dropped mine onto the table and looked up and down with a leer. He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Yes,” I said simply and went back to my menu. Mike laughed as Emilio preened.

“Oh, I like fun Brian,” Emilio said with a giggle as the waitress returned.

“Can I start you guys off with a drink?” she asked, pulling a pad out of her battered apron and a pen from behind her ear. She glanced over our heads, probably to check her other tables.

“I’ll take a Corona,” Emilio said, looking up at her with a smile.

“Me too,” Mike said. “And we’d like an order of the ultimate nachos.”

“I’d like a Corona too, please,” I said. Mike and Emilio glanced at me, but the waitress didn’t even blink.

“Three Coronas and a plate of ultimate nachos,” she repeated. “I’ll get that order in for you guys, and then I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your dinner orders.” Tucking the pen back behind her ear, the waitress wandered off back in the direction she’d come.

“A Corona, huh? I think there’s hope for you yet,” Mike said as he picked up his menu again.

We ended up ordering fajitas, and the food was excellent. I loved the nachos most of all. One thing about living in California: the Mexican food tasted ten times better than it did in Alabama. Emilio and I had two beers each, but Mike only nursed his since he was driving. Not once did the waitress ask me for ID, which I could have provided. I confess I felt rather disappointed, because I wanted to try out my new license to see if it would pass as credible. The idea of it scared but excited me.

When we got the bill, Mike and Emilio would not let me pay any part of it. I looked away as they laid out their cash, feeling ashamed and embarrassed that they needed to pay for the weekend, but they were determined, so I just let it go. The beer made me feel loose and relaxed, and I didn’t want to think right then. I’d have plenty of time to dwell on things when I was back in my room at my parents’ house.

The next few hours passed rather quickly, and just as the beer I’d drunk at dinner made the need to take a leak rather urgent, the world dropped out from beneath us. A warm, golden light of a beautiful sunset filtered through the sparse clouds and reflected off the huge body of water beneath us. The outline of buildings lay in the distance, but my focus at that point of the bridge remained on the water. Growing up landlocked in the middle of Alabama, the sheer volume of water in and around California staggered me. Everything in California, from the water to the buildings to the tidal wave of people, was just too big to seem real.

“Hey, there’s Alcatraz Island,” Emilio pointed out, and I moved to look out the passenger window. So many things to see, I didn’t know where to look next.

“He looks like a puppy on his first family vacation,” Emilio told Mike, who chuckled with him. “Hey, Brian, you want me to unzip the window so you can stick your head out?” Both guys laughed, and I kicked the back of Emilio’s seat.

“Shut up, dumbass. As you guys pointed out when we started this little adventure, I don’t get out much,” I told him with a smirk as I continued to stare. The city looked different from San Diego or even Los Angeles as we came off the bridge. San Diego seemed to be more colorful, and Los Angeles less inviting. But San Francisco looked like a hill-packed adventure. I asked Mike to take the top off the Jeep so we could see better, but he said we were almost to the hotel and we’d take it off later when we went out.

The hotel was tiny, even smaller than the Roadview Inn I’d stayed at when I first arrived in San Diego. At first, when Mike pulled over in front of it, I thought it was some kind of shop until I saw the sign. Emilio jumped out of the passenger seat and went to check us in while Mike and I waited in the Jeep. Looking around at the people standing on the street, I silently thanked Mike for not taking the top off. Even I could tell that it wasn’t the best neighborhood. After about fifteen minutes, Emilio returned to the Jeep looking disgruntled.

“Stupid desk clerk wouldn’t give me more towels because there’s only one person registered on the room. Idiot,” he growled before slamming the door behind him.

“Hey, don’t take it out on my door,” Mike said, slapping Emilio’s shoulder before turning the ignition. “If you’d stay away from these fly-by-night studios, you’d—”

“Shut the hell up,” Emilio whispered with a hurried glance at me.

“Studio? Like a television studio? Movies?” I asked, excited. “You said you were gonna be famous, Em! That’s amazing!” Emilio sighed and looked over at Mike, who just nodded. Then they both turned around in their seats to face me. I scooted over to the middle of the backseat, but my excitement started to fade as I saw the fear in my friends’ faces.

“What?” I asked, glancing between them.

“It’s not television or movies, baby,” Mike said slowly, and for the first time since we’d met, it seemed his eyes would not meet mine. “Em’s here to shoot a porn scene. And, well… I shoot scenes too. That’s my second job.” My eyes bounced back and forth between them, trying to decide if they were messing with me. Since neither of them would meet my gaze, I figured they must have been telling the truth. I sat back against the seat and looked through the zipped window of the Jeep at the street beyond. It explained so much. It explained Mike’s relaxed attitude about sex and how sex doesn’t have anything to do with love. Emilio and Mike screwing whenever the mood struck. They’d probably already been together on camera. Mike had probably done a dozen other guys since we’d hooked up. For some reason, that made me sad.

Several minutes passed in complete silence before it occurred to me to shut my mouth, which was still hanging open in shock.

“Say something,” Emilio whispered in a quiet, pleading tone while Mike simply stared at his knee.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked as my brain remained empty of any useful responses.

“That you don’t hate us,” Mike said. The fear and despair in his voice surprised me. I didn’t think Mike was afraid of anything.

“Of course I don’t hate you! I’m just… shocked,” I assured him and put my fingers under his chin to lift it. His eyes met mine, and he must have seen the truth there.

“We’d been debating about telling you for a while, but you’re one of our best friends. I couldn’t stand it if that broke up our friendship.” Emilio put his hand on my knee as he spoke, and I wondered if he needed to feel closer.

“You know I’m going to have a billion questions for you,” I warned them, and both started to laugh, the tension of the moment seeming to melt away.

“For that, I’m going to need alcohol,” Mike commented. “Lots and lots of alcohol.”

We parked in the attached garage and found our room without any problems. One at a time, though Emilio suggested otherwise, we showered and dressed to go out. It took Emilio much longer than Mike or I because after the fourth shirt he discarded, Mike grabbed a shirt from the mess on the bed and threw it at our half-naked friend, completely losing his patience.

“You’re going to take the thing off when we start dancing. You
always
do, so what difference does it make?” Emilio’s mouth dropped open as if he couldn’t believe what Mike had just said. As for me, I tried hard not to laugh aloud at them but failed miserably. Eventually, we got into the Jeep and headed for some club Mike knew.

Since it was still early in the evening, we caught the tail end of happy hour and took full advantage. Sitting at the bar with my fake ID working like a charm. I lost count of the shots the three of us had done together. By the time the DJ came on around ten, the alcohol had obliterated any sense of inhibition I may have had. I downed the last shot on the bar and took their hands in each of mine, pulling them toward the dance floor. We danced in a kind of wide triangle in the slowly filling space, pushed closer and closer together with each passing song.

“I like this place,” I told Mike as his body pressed against mine in front while Emilio danced behind me. We had just taken a break at the bar with a couple of blow jobs. When Mike first asked me if I wanted one, I’ll admit that my initial thought wasn’t of a drink. My body tightened at the question, but before I could act on that, he explained about the shot. My disappointment must have been evident because he leaned over and murmured that he would give me a real one when we got back to the hotel.

“I like you,” he replied, bringing a silly grin to my face. I’d lost count of the number of drinks I’d had but trusted that Mike and Emilio would get me safely back to the hotel. It felt wonderful to let loose and not worry. I had to leave, and worrying about it was pointless. Stressing out wouldn’t change anything.

Emilio pressed against my back and grabbed the hem of my T-shirt. Lifting it slowly, he pulled it over my head and then tucked the top into the back of my jeans. Though I hadn’t seen him take off his shirt, I could feel the warm, naked skin of his chest against my bare back. Rather than feeling shy or embarrassed, as I would have even six months ago, I reached down and grabbed Mike’s thin tank top, pulling it up and off as Emilio had mine. Wrapping my arms around Mike, I slid the top of the shirt into the back of his jeans just enough to keep it there. I cupped the back of his jeans with both of my hands, pulling him closer, and he moaned in my ear.

“You want to play, baby boy?” he asked, loud enough for me to hear over the new song that had started. His hips moved in time with the slow, erotic thumping of the bass. The guys around us melted away, and in that moment, there were only Mike and Emilio rubbing my body with theirs. I loved the way Mike’s body rubbed against mine, separated by nothing but a few layers of cloth. Emilio grabbed my arms, which were around Mike’s waist, pulling them up over my head and then back around his neck.

My brain felt fuzzy from the booze, so on pure instinct, I turned my head toward Emilio and felt him catch my lips with his. As he kissed me, his fingers slid up my bare stomach and chest to pull at my nipples. I moaned into his mouth, making a steady vibration where our lips touched. He rubbed against my ass through our jeans, and I clutched the back of his hair, pulling… straining… begging.

I broke the kiss and tried to breathe as Mike rubbed insistently from the front and Emilio from the back. Sweat covered our bodies in a fine sheen, making them slide against each other effortlessly. Mike’s hands moved to my ass, grinding his hips into me while Emilio continued to twist and pull my nipples. Trapped by the two warm bodies and my own arousal, I moved against them with the music, closing my eyes and losing myself in them.

Losing track of time and place, growing harder with every thump of the music and thrum of my pulse, I chased that feeling, the one that made my body tingle. It seemed like hours that I floated between them, in limbo, on the edge of a sweet orgasm. My eyes opened and I looked around lazily and tried to figure out why the voice in the back of my head tried to tell me I shouldn’t just let it happen. Awareness stole over me as I saw the sea of bodies gyrating around me.

“Stop,” I moaned against Emilio’s neck. “You’re gonna make me come.” He groaned against my cheek, and I felt him lean forward as he repeated my warning to Mike. Between the raging hard-on in my pants and the alcohol in my body, my head spun, and I wrapped my arms tighter around Emilio.

“Is that right, baby?” Mike asked as he laid his head on my shoulder and pressed his lips against my ear. “Are you gonna come for us? Right here in the middle of the floor with all of these people watching?” His words should have humiliated me, but my body hummed in response. In my mind, I could see them all watching me, getting excited as they waited for me to lose it in my jeans. I whimpered, and it sounded rather pathetic to me, but Mike moaned into my ear. “God, you’re so hot. No wonder they all want to watch you. But it’s me who’s going to be inside you later, isn’t it?”

My breathing got heavier, faster, as I thought about him taking me, about them both taking me right there on the dance floor. Without thinking, I let go of Emilio and threw my arms around Mike. Burying my face against his neck, I thrust my hips forward into him, using his body to stroke myself through my clothes. In the middle of that dance floor, in front of a crowd of sweaty, horny guys, I rubbed his body with mine and cried out against his skin as I came. Wet and sticky, my underwear clung to my skin as I stood, panting into Mike’s shoulder. For a moment, the world spun, and I started to fall, my legs no longer able to support me.

“Time to go,” I heard Mike mutter as he wrapped one of my arms around his shoulder. “Get his other arm.” Emilio wrapped my other arm around his neck, and together they helped me to the car.

Eleven