Disclaimer: Not mine, not getting paid.
Note: Some PWP for a very special lady. J This fic is set in Cmar's "Turns in the Road" universe, dealing with a sexual relationship between consenting adult males – ie, Eric and Wes. (So if slash isn't your thing, you know where to find the back button!) A few events from "Turns" are referenced within, as well as our collaboration "Strangers In Red"; but it's not necessary to have read those stories to fully understand this. 'Part 2: Eric' will come at a later date, I promise. (Oh, and look into my profile for links to the uncut version!)
Happy Birthday, Cmar – hope you like! Everyone else, please pass by the feedback box on your way out?
Love Is ...
Part 1: Wes
By Dagmar Buse
Prologue: Choosing the Perfect Gift
"Any idea what you want for your birthday this year?"
Eric looked up from the surveillance equipment magazine he was leafing through. "Nope, why?"
Wes grinned and shrugged. "Just wondering what I could give you. After all, it's less than a month away."
"Well, hell – thanks for telling me, then. I would've missed it for sure."
"Very funny." Eric just grinned, and Wes gave him a mock scowl in return – along with the finger. "Come on, you must want something!"
It was Wes' turn to grin now at the long-suffering sigh.
"Anything's fine, as long as you don't go overboard," Eric told his partner and lover, relenting when he realized Wes was hell-bent on buying him a gift.
"You're not making this easy," Wes grumbled, slouching deeper into the worn armchair. "Assuming that 'not going overboard' means I'm going to have to set a price limit-"
"Damn right you do," Eric said firmly.
"-that means I can't give you stuff you might actually need, like a new car or new furniture. Or go book us someplace exotic for vacation. Hmm. Any books you'd like to read?"
"When do I have time for reading?"
"Uh, right. CDs?"
Eric shook his head and went back to his magazine. "There's this nifty thing called 'radio'. And in a pinch, I've got a dozen music channels on cable."
"Okay," Wes sighed, crossing yet another item of his mental list. "What about movies?"
"We haven't even gone through a quarter of your DVD collection," Eric reminded him. "There's also rentals. I prefer to go to the cinema anyway, and … I can think of better stuff to do when we're together than watch other people make out on screen." He gave Wes a meaningful glance.
"Well, yeah," Wes grinned, returning the look with interest and a quick flick of his tongue across his lips that made Eric catch his breath. Then he winked, his grin turning mischievous. "I could always get you a hand-tailored, made-to-measure uniform from Brooks Brothers," he suggested innocently. "Or sign you up for a fashion makeover. I'd even let you choose the designer. Hilfiger, Versace, Ralph Lauren – take your pick!"
"You do that – if you want to spend your next birthday in a full body cast," Eric said dryly.
"Spoilsport," Wes replied good-naturedly. "So the purple-sequined jumpsuit is definitely out?" He laughed when he saw his lover's expression run from exasperation through horror to half-murderous glare. "Hey, don't worry. You know I wouldn't do that to you."
Eric only grunted, then shook his head. "Wes, I couldn't care less about any of that stuff. You don't have to buy me anything. Drop it, okay?"
Wes got up and sat down next to Eric. Touching his hair, he waited until the dark, slightly slanted eyes met his own. "But I want to give you a present," he said softly. "I love you, and you make me happy; for that alone, you deserve something special for your birthday. Why won't you let me do something for you just for the fun of it?"
There was no way Eric could resist the coaxing smile or the hint of shyness in Wes' voice. So he relented grudgingly. "Oh, what the hell. Do whatever you want." He chuckled when Wes' face lit up. "You're worse than a kid who got promised his first trip to Disneyland. Just keep it simple, don't spend a shitload of money and try not to embarrass anyone, okay?"
"I promise," Wes said, then grinned. "So what should I give you?"
Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Eric rolled his eyes heavenward, then found a bit of deviltry in himself. Quirking his lips sardonically, he used a method he knew would distract Wes better than anything else. Hauling his lover into a deep, hard kiss that left Wes breathless, he slipped a hand under the red-striped shirt and skimmed teasingly across the tight stomach before cupping the rapidly-growing bulge just below. Wes hissed excitedly and, as Eric hoped he would, reached for his belt, undoing the buckle with fingers made clumsy by eagerness. But Wes' eyes snapped open wide when, just before he could take hold of his partner's throbbing erection, Eric whispered against his eager mouth.
"Surprise me."
oOo
Love Is … Embracing His Past
"Surprise, huh?" Wes grumbled a couple of weeks later, still on the lookout for the perfect gift. "Easier said than done. How about a nice Caribbean island instead? Or a private yacht? At least I'd know how and where to get that." Sure, he'd come up with a few tidbits to give to Eric – a bottle of good liquor, aftershave, tickets to a sports event, but he wasn't satisfied yet. None of these items was special – anyone might give them to a casual friend or valued colleague. No, he wanted to give Eric something personal, something that showed how much he meant to him … something only he could give to his partner, his friend and lover.
While Eric was interested in a variety of things, he unfortunately had no real hobbies or special interests. Which wasn't making this job of finding the rightgift any easier. Briefly, Wes wondered if there were any people he could ask for help, but Eric had neither family nor close friends, and the idea of going to either of Eric's former lovers whom he'd met was not really appealing.
-Nick Tate knows him best; he might have an idea, but he's busy at SPD – and asking Jason would be a waste of time, most likely. They met in a gay bar, for heaven's sake; the only thing they talked about was karate, and how to get in each other's pants. That's so not gonna help.-
However, the involuntary surge of jealousy as he remembered Eric's account of his encounter with the first Red Ranger, and the fact that he and his only other serious boyfriend had spent a great deal of their time together in the gay scene – that is, bars and hotels where their relationship wouldn't raise a single eyebrow – set off a light bulb in Wes' brain. What if he took Eric to a place where they could openly spend time as a couple? Nothing too blatant, though; while Wes didn't quite share his partner's misgivings about coming out, he had no intention of making a spectacle of them … or watch a sleazy show of other guys getting it on in public. This was California; surely there had to be an establishment close by that was reasonably discreet yet catered to people with alternative lifestyles. San Francisco was too far, and the Castro district too obvious; the last thing he wanted was Eric guessing his intentions too soon and weaseling out somehow. No, to keep the surprise element, he'd have to find something else.
"I must be insane," he breathed, straightening from his comfortable sprawl in front of the TV in his room at the Collins mansion. "Eric's gonna kill me for sure, and then I'll be really screwed!"
Right on the heels of that thought, though, a usually-hidden part of him said: 'Man, I hope so!'
The longer he tried to convince himself that this was a Really Bad Idea, though, the better it sounded. Suddenly feeling reckless, Wes threw caution to the wind and went to his desk, booting up his computer. He only had a week left; if his mad idea should have any chance to work, he'd need to do some serious research – and fast!
oOo
Eric couldn't help but feel a measure of anticipation despite his professed disinterest when he drove into work the morning of his birthday. Wes hadn't mentioned making any special plans for the last few days, but he knew his partner well enough to safely assume that after all the fuss he'd made about a gift before, he wouldn't just ignore the occasion. So, believing it best to be prepared for anything, Eric had made sure that his afternoon and evening were free – as well as the next day, just in case.
In his office, Eric called up the Guardians' duty roster and checked assignments. Sure enough, Wes was down for a consultation at City Hall in the morning, a training session right after lunch … and off-duty from the same time Eric was. He permitted himself a slow grin. If nothing else, they could always spend the night at his house, celebrating with a few drinks before engaging in their usual bedroom athletics. As always, his pulse sped up at the thought of spending the night with his lover, and for once the Quantum Ranger couldn't wait for his work to be done.
Eric met Wes for lunch at the Guardians' headquarters and received friendly, non-committal well-wishes from him, as if they were nothing but colleagues. It was what Eric thought he wanted, yet now that he got it, he felt oddly disappointed. He was about to voice a mock complaint, just because Wes had made such a big deal about the date earlier, but got distracted when their second-in-command Steve Miller joined them with his tray and a question about a disciplinary matter. Soon, the three men were engaged in a serious discussion over a recent case, and Eric was surprised when Wes was the first to leave.
"I'll go chase the rookies around the obstacle course now," Wes said lightly. "After that, I'm off duty until day after tomorrow. See you later, guys." Miller nodded, and Eric frowned, puzzled by the innocent look Wes gave him before striding off. That bland stare convinced him that his lover had concocted some kind of plan, but he had no idea what it might be. Feeling slightly suspicious yet curious, he forced his attention back to work.
There was an envelope on his desk when he returned to his office that was addressed to him in Wes' distinctive scrawl. Raising an eyebrow, Eric tore open the flap and extracted a single sheet. The message was short, to the point and gave him absolutely no clue.
"Meet me at 8 o'clock. Use the GPS I've put in your personal car, it's programmed with the address. You'll need roughly an hour for the trip. Oh, and wear something casual. Wes."
"What's with the cloak and dagger stuff?" Eric muttered, torn between feeling intrigued and plain exasperation. "Sheesh." For a moment, he was tempted to just ignore the message, but curiosity won out at last. He finished a few last details, then signed off, leaving Steve Miller in charge. A quick shower and shave later, Eric exchanged his uniform for well-worn jeans, a grey t-shirt and a leather jacket, snagged the keys to his car and left the house. The GPS lay on the passenger seat of his car, on top of another envelope. Inside, there was a credit-card-sized laminated piece of cardboard bearing the words 'The Club Room' and 'Confirmed Guest' underneath. Wes' accompanying note simply said, "Once you arrive, go to the address below. Show the card to the receptionist; they will tell you the rest. Drive safely. Wes."
Mildly exasperated, Eric shook his head, shrugged and plugged in the GPS, heading for the highway at its instruction.
A little over an hour's drive brought him to the outskirts of San Bernardino, then to an area that held a mix of stores, bars, restaurants and even an hotel or two. Having arrived pretty much on time, Eric left his car two rows over from Wes' at a guarded car park, then walked the final distance to the address Wes had provided. It turned out to be a row of tall, narrow 19th-century houses; the one he was looking for was right in the middle and had obviously been converted into an inn of sorts. There was an ordinary-looking restaurant to the right of the entrance, and on showing his pass, the polite and friendly young woman at the front reception desk checked a ledger, nodded and handed him an equally ordinary key card bearing the number 27.
"If you'll leave your jacket with me, sir, we'll take it to your room. You're expected upstairs."
"Right," Eric muttered, taking his wallet and keys before handing over his jacket. He didn't know whether to be amused by Wes' elaborate antics or if he should feel pissed off, but he was just intrigued enough to play along. For now. Following the receptionist's directions, he bypassed the restaurant to a staircase in the back and slowly went up two flights. A softly-lit hallway at the top led to a thick wooden door at the back and he could just make out the beat of music coming from behind it. -They must have some pretty good soundproofing,- the professional in him commented, but Eric deliberately turned it off; he was here as himself, not Commander Myers!Eric hesitated just for an instant before he reached for the handle, adrenaline surging within him as he walked through the leather-padded door. He found himself in a small, dark anteroom next, heavy curtains shielding the room beyond, but the music was louder now, interspersed with the murmur of voices.
-Some kind of dance club or bar, obviously. Probably for the super-rich only, or something. This whole place reeks of money. Shit.-
He hated it when Wes, however unintentionally, rubbed his wealth into his face. Eric knewthat money meant very little to his partner, and even less that he himself had only what he earned, but that made accepting his sometimes rather casual splurging no less easy. Especially if Wes spent money on him.He pushed the uncomfortable thought aside; Wes was expecting him, he couldn't just leave him waiting forever …
-I'm not in the mood for this!-
He was in the mood for some serious, uninhibited sex, though. Suddenly conscious of the room key he'd been given downstairs, Eric decided that he could put up with having a drink or two in swanky surroundings if it gave him an undisturbed night with his lover in what he suspected would be total luxury. At least he hadn't had to dress up! Running a hand through his hair, Eric pasted a smile on his face and stepped forward.
It took him a second or two to let his eyes adjust to the dim light, but that was enough to make it clear exactly what type of establishment the 'Club Room' was; the front restaurant might look ordinary enough, but upstairs itwas unmistakably a gay bar. There was a bar at the far end, high-backed booths along the perimeter, and several dancers filled the dance floor to the left. Eric had frequented more places like this in the past than he cared to remember; none as classy or as tastefully decorated as this, sure, but the bottom line was, men came here to pick up other men, with one goal in mind – sex.
Anger welled up hot and sharp within Eric; he had believed he'd put the whole scene behind him when he returned to Silver Hills and joined the Guardians, more so when his secret dream came true and Wes became his lover. For Wes, who knew that he regretted his rather checkered sexual history, to drag him right back into it, felt like a betrayal.
-I'm gonna kill you for this, Wes!-
He was jostled out of his thoughts when another arrival bumped into him from behind, but instead of a furtive grope or snide remark, Eric received a murmured apology from the two men passing him, their hands loosely joined. The overall atmosphere was quite different from any other gay bar Eric had ever visited, especially when the couple was greeted cordially by another at the edge of the dance floor, but that didn't change the nature of the place – and it wasn't a place Eric wanted to be. Still seething with anger, he was about to turn on his heels and leave when he suddenly saw Wes crossing the floor. He'd obviously just bought a drink at the bar, sat down in one of the booths and scooted around the small table until he was facing the room. Despite himself, Eric felt his mouth go dry as he took in Wes' appearance; like himself and most of the guests, his attire was casual, but the tight black jeans rode too low on his hips, the dark red muscle shirt clung too tightly to the well-defined torso, and his expression … even from this distance, the smile hovering around the mobile mouth was an invitation if there ever was one, and Eric knew that the blue eyes under the slightly-tousled dark blond hair would be sparkling.
-Dammit, can he be any more obvious? Everybody's gonna think he's fresh meat; he looks as if he's just waiting for some guy to hit on him!-
Apparently, another patron had come to the same conclusion; Wes had barely taken the first sip of his drink when a man in leather pants and a black silk waistcoat approached the booth, sat down uninvited and started to chat Wes up.
Anger of a totally different kind overwhelmed Eric; all thoughts of leaving vanished from his mind. No way in hell was he leaving Wes alone in this place! He might know how to take care of himself in a fight, but he was a babe in the woods when it came to moving in the gay scene … as was proved by the way he'd dressed – -Way too inviting; he looks good enough to eat, and if he's not careful, that schmuck will try to do just that!- – and how he was replying far too politely and friendly to whatever the other guy was saying to him.
Cursing silently, Eric quickly bought a beer for himself at the bar and sauntered over to the booth, arriving just in time to see the stranger lay a hand on Wes' forearm and lean forward. "I'm available if you're looking for company," he said persuasively in a low, but perfectly audible voice. Eric wanted to slug him.
"He's not," he said coolly instead, appearing suddenly at the table. He raked the stranger with a challenging glance. "Or rather, you're not the company he's looking for. Get lost." He spoke casually, but the underlying 'or else' in his body language and expression couldn't be missed.
"Who the hell are you?" the man blustered, but did release Wes' arm as he got the message loud and clear. "He's old enough to make his own choices!"
"Yes, and I've chosen him – quite a while ago, really," Wes smiled, managing the near impossibility of simultaneously conveying an apology to the stranger and welcoming Eric with a single look. "I would've told you in a minute myself. I'm already … taken," he added, his smile turning sultry. "Sorry."
Eric felt himself melt just a little at the intimate innuendo, but he kept up his not-quite-hostile stance until the stranger shrugged and got up. "No offense," the guy murmured, sounding rather peeved. "But I thought …"
"I know what you thought, and it was wrong," Eric interrupted him. "Now go, or I'll report you for poaching." He was guessing here; not every scene bar had restrictions against making a pass at patrons who were not obviouslymarked as being in a relationship, but the Club Room seemed like the kind of place that would. He was right.
With a shrug, the man collected his drink. "I'm going, I'm going," he snapped, then turned to Wes again. "I'd have liked to get to know you; pity. But if you ever come back alone … I'm usually here once a week."
"I'll keep that in mind, but I don't think so," Wes declined. "Have a good evening."
"You, too." With a last, lingering look at the handsome blond, the man left, pointedly ignoring Eric who watched him go to the bar with an unreadable expression on his face.
Wes sipped on his drink and waited for his partner to turn towards him, only to meet a fierce glare from the dark eyes when he finally did. -Uh-oh.- Time to ease the sudden tension. "Are you going to stand there all night, are you gonna join me, or are you leaving?"
Eric took his time to reply, clenching his fingers around the near-forgotten glass in his hand.
"Don't tempt me," he said curtly. "I haven't made up my mind yet whether to beat the shit out of you before or after going home."
Wes sighed. He had half-feared that Eric would react like this, but he hoped that he could placate him, maybe even change his mind – but that meant he'd have to get him to listen first. "Well, you can certainly try," he murmured with a weak attempt at humor, "but sit down and finish your beer first? Please?"
"Give me one good reason why I should."
Blue eyes met stormy dark ones. "Because people are beginning to stare," Wes said quietly. "You don't want to create a scene, do you?"
A quick look over his shoulder proved to Eric that unfortunately, Wes was right. After the way he'd sent the other guy packing, he had to lay claim to Wes – or risk others hitting on him even harder the moment he turned his back. He didn't think for a moment that Wes would actually accept any or all offers of 'company', but the mere thought made his blood boil. -And here I thought picturing him with Jen, or another woman, was bad – hah!- Fighting down a too-familiar spurt of jealousy, Eric realized that he had no choice but to sit down. Reluctantly, he lowered himself to the banquette.
"At least we can talk now without me getting a crick in the neck," Wes teased, but when all he got for his effort was another dark look, he sighed and pushed his glass away. "Look, I'm sorry. I can see that you're not thrilled to be here, I can even guess why, but believe it or not, I had my reasons for bringing you here today."
Eric snorted. "I just bet you did."
"Yeah, and they're most likely not what you think they are," Wes replied, losing a little of his own temper. "At least hear me out before we leave."
"We? Don't you want to use that room you already booked?" Eric sneered, but with much less venom than he originally intended.
"Only if I get to share it with you. Will you listen?"
Eric stared hard at his partner. Wes never flinched from the scrutiny, a silent plea in his eyes that was impossible to resist. "I guess," Eric grumbled at last. "Make it quick, though; I don't like this place."
"Right." Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Wes retrieved his drink, but only toyed with the tumbler. Slowly, keeping his voice low so they couldn't be overheard from the adjacent booths, he began to talk.
"Eric, it may not look that way right now, considering it was my idea to come here, but I haven't forgotten that you said you've put gay bars and the whole cruising scene behind you. And I didn't – don't want to push you back into it. Hell, from what little I've seen while I was waiting for you, it's not something I want to be part of."
"Then why drag me here?" Eric snapped, fresh anger resurfacing in his voice. With an effort, he managed to speak quietly enough that the music was masking his words. "This place may be classier than what I was used to, but underneath all the money and stuff, the purpose, the people coming here are exactly the same as in every dive I've seen. They want what every gay guy is looking for in a bar like this – a fast lay."
"Most of them, yeah," Wes agreed. "But Eric – this is part of your past. It helped make you who you are today,and it's totally out of my experience. Maybe I want, or even need to learn about some of it in order to know you."
"You already know me."
Wes sighed impatiently. Was Eric being willfully dense, or did he really not understand? "What if I want to know you even better? Seeing firsthand what you did, how you were back then can help me with that."
"I told you before, you wouldn't have liked me back then." He really, really didn't want Wes to dig too deep into the often sleazy world of gay subculture, where guys went who had to hide what they were. Not for the first time, Eric wished he could deal with his orientation as easily and openly as some other men did. Like Wes would, if he let him. But Wes wasn't finished yet; with an effort, Eric wrenched his mind out of the past and unspoken regrets to focus on his partner's words.
"Wouldn't I? I liked you well enough when we first met; I learned to like you even more when you came back. I can't believe that you were all that different in between, or I wouldn't have been able to pick up almost exactly where we left off back in school. Well, after you lost that chip on your shoulder, anyway." Wes grinned briefly, then touched Eric's shoulder. "Liking you had very little to do with having the hots for you; back when we first met, I didn't realize that my feelings would ever go that far." He reflectively sipped at his drink. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I couldn't have fallen in love with you if whatever you experienced in those years had changed you completely. You're still you."
Eric could feel himself softening. Wes was so earnest, so honest … it was hard to maintain his annoyance in view of what he had just heard. And yet … "You could have asked."
"Would you have answered?" Wes countered. "Told me something beyond the mere facts, which I already knew?"
-No. I wouldn't. Not in any way you could understand, anyway.-
Eric didn't have the skill with words to paint an accurate picture of what had drawn him to the scene in the past, didn't know how to convey the security of knowing that in a place like this nobody was going to judge him. In a gay bar, among like-minded people, it didn't matter that he was poor and from the wrong side of the tracks. All that counted were his looks, his willingness and his sexual prowess. Then there was the thrill of the hunt, the heady rush of meeting someone new, negotiating with a prospective partner and the breathless ecstasy of instant gratification, more often than not in an alley, a doorway or another hastily-found hideaway. And if you did make it to a room, got to have more than a few minutes of frantic coupling … he shook his head, dispelling memories of a past he wasn't proud of and tried his damnedest to forget.
"Probably not."
"That's what I figured," Wes said softly. "Eric … I never intended to bring up bad memories, believe me. I'm sorry if I did. But is it so strange that I want to see just a fraction of that world for myself this once? To experience firsthand what you did … and maybe share it with you?"
That got Eric's attention. His head snapped up, and he stared once more at his partner and lover, eyes wide with surprise. "You … what?!"
Shrugging sheepishly, Wes met that fierce, suspicious glance without flinching. "I brought us here because it's not a typical gay bar. I didn't want to go somewhere rough or seedy," he admitted. "For what it is, the Club Room is as safe and civilized an establishment as I could find without firsthand knowledge."
"I guess," Eric conceded reluctantly. While the atmosphere was as sexually charged as in any other bar he'd frequented during his time in the army, it lacked a certain aggressiveness that was all too prevalent in the scene.
"What's more … nobody here knows us, so there's no fear of either of us being exposed. That's important to you, right?"
"Hmph." Eric grunted noncommittally. His anger was slowly abating, but he wasn't about to give in just yet. Besides, he could sense that there was more to the story. "Is that all?"
A slow flush actually crept up Wes' neck. "I, uh, I was hoping that just for tonight, we could be out in public together and be, well, a couple, y'know? There's no other place I can think of where we wouldn't have to guard every look, word or touch," he murmured. "Not that I'd object to do more if that's what you want, but … it'd be enough."
Stunned, Eric sat back. Not until Wes put this small wish into words had he realized that deep down he wanted the same thing. To show his feelings for Wes in public, without loss of respect, professional repercussions or opening themselves to ridicule, would be a relief. -Who am I kidding? It'd be sheer bliss – and only an idiot would walk away from such an opportunity!-
Eric knew he was many things, but 'idiot' never made the list. Not tonight at least, and not when Wes was offering him just about the greatest gift he could ask for, aside from becoming his lover in the first place. There was no way in hell Eric was going to refuse. Still, he had to be sure.
"You're serious about this?"
"Very."
Warmth filled Eric's inside … and the beginnings of arousal started fluttering in his gut. He swept the room with an intent look, cataloguing what was going on around them … and what wasn't. Men were talking and drinking; some were obviously cruising for partners, but nobody got obnoxious or overly aggressive. The dance floor was well-filled without being too crowded, by both obvious couples and singles/groups, yet it didn't seem as if any kind of floor show would be happening. With a start, Eric realized that he'd have liked to hang out at the Club Room during his cruising days. Especially if he could've met someone like Wes.
-Not that there's anyone like him …-
A slow smile spread across Eric's face as he let go of the last remnants of his earlier anger and resentment. Deciding to grasp the golden opportunity Wes had dropped into his lap was a matter of milliseconds; he opened himself fully to the atmosphere, slipping easily back into the familiar role of predatory hunter – and Wes became his chosen prey. -This just might be fun!-
"Okay."
The blue eyes widened as the meaning of that word sank in. "O-okay?"
"Yeah."
"Wow."
Eric grinned wolfishly. "Why not? You're right, nobody here knows us – and it's been a while since I've really cut loose. This place seems as good as any."
Suddenly dry-mouthed with nerves, Wes gulped. -Cut loose? What the hell does he mean by that?- He didn't know, and that was … slightly scary. He hadn't expected Eric to acquiesce quite as readily, and he felt momentarily at a loss of what to do next. He reached for his drink again, but the glass was empty; going to the bar for a fresh one appeared to be a perfect excuse to regain his composure and finagle a couple of minutes to plan his next move without showing Eric that he had no idea how to actually do what he'd said he wanted.
"Uh, right. Good. Great, really. I, ah, I'm getting a refill; you want one, too?" Wes made as if to get up, but was unexpectedly prevented by a strong hand pressing down on his thigh, pinning him to the bench. He closed his mouth with a snap, fighting a nervous blush.
"I'm sure they have table service." Briefly, Eric glanced around, catching the bar tender's attention with a small signal. Sure enough, a couple of minutes later a waiter appeared at their booth.
"Good evening. What can I do for you gentlemen?" he said cheerfully.
Before Wes could say something, Eric gestured towards their glasses. "Two of the same, and if you serve bar food, the menu, please."
"Sure. Be back right away." True to his word, the young man brought a laminated card along with the beer and a second whisky. "I'm afraid it's not a big selection, but we'll hold your booth if you want to eat downstairs instead," he said.
Eric quickly skimmed the menu. "No, this is fine. We'll have a club sandwich each."
"Two clubs, right. You want fries with that?"
"Yes. Charge it to room 27." That way, they wouldn't have to deal with tabs when they left.
"Okey-doke. Ten minutes!" With that, the waiter disappeared, and Eric finally turned back to Wes, who was feeling rather stunned at not having been consulted and his partner's sudden take-charge attitude. He wasn't quite sure whether he liked it or not, but it was certainly … different … from their generally more even-footed relationship back in Silver Hills.
"You … you really want to eat? Now? Here?!"
"Lunch was hours ago; I'm starving," Eric shrugged, beginning to enjoy himself as he slipped deeper into topping mode. His agile mind could already picture a scenario that would have Wes creaming his pants … as soon as he let him, that is. -You didn't think I was gonna let you off that easy for getting me here, didya?- But he was not about to tell Wes, nor to show him too soon what exactly he meant by 'cutting loose', so he kept his demeanor deliberately casual. "You have a problem with that?"
"Uh, no."
"Good. Cheers." He raised his glass in a sort of salute, which Wes copied, a bemused smile forming around his mouth as he made up his mind to just go with the flow and accept Eric's dominance for tonight with an inward shrug. Downing half his beer, Eric leaned back and idly slid his hand up and down Wes' leg, getting dangerously close to his crotch. Wes' breath caught; he'd clearly almost forgotten that Eric had yet to remove his hand from his earlier restraining touch. The denim-covered muscles clenched under the hard fingers, and the fluttering in Eric's gut intensified. -Careful. There's no rush now.-
"So how'd you find this place, anyway?"
Wes blinked, then forced himself to concentrate on the deceptively normal-sounding question. "Um, online." The next few minutes passed quickly as he detailed the convoluted trail he'd followed through websites and chatrooms until he'd ended up with the Club Room's address. All that time, the table top hid that Eric was slowly but surely driving him mad with unpredictable touches from groin to knees. He was only just finishing his report when their waiter returned, carrying two plates with sandwiches and fries. They ordered refills for their drinks, Wes switching to beer as well, and started to eat.
Much to his surprise, Wes discovered that he wasn't nervous enough to let the food go to waste; with every bite, his previously-nonexistent appetite grew until he chewed with as much vigor as his partner. The hand on his leg remained where it was, though, alternately squeezing and stroking, making it extremely difficult to control his need to moan and shiver.
Eric was done slightly sooner than Wes; there were a few fries still left on his partner's plate.
"You gonna eat those?"
"Yeah; I'm hungrier than I thought," Wes smiled distractedly. He took one fry, dipped it into the small bowl of ketchup and was lifting it to his mouth when a strong hand gripped his wrist, stopping him mid-motion. His eyes flew to Eric's. "What?"
"That's mine," Eric murmured silkily, gently forcing his lover's hand back towards himself. Holding the startled gaze with glittering eyes, he kept the fingers holding the French fry an inch or two from his lips, then slowly, deliberately licked off the ketchup before biting bit by bit off the piece of potato until every last morsel had disappeared behind the white teeth.
Wes gulped. Eric had snitched fries from his plate before; they'd even fed each other nibbles on occasion, but he'd never done anything like this! It was provocative, sensual and utterly arousing, especially when the fingertips of Eric's other hand brushed tantalizingly against his fly. It took him several tries to get his voice to work.
"W-want an-nother?" -Shit, first I'm babbling, now I'm stuttering!-
"Yes."
Wes did shiver at the firm tone, but obediently picked up another and held it out to his partner, mesmerized by how Eric could simultaneously be playful and commanding – and how that made something so commonplace so incredibly erotic. Soon, he was down to the last fry. Eric ate that, too, then caught Wes' wrist once more. Smiling enigmatically, he brought Wes' fingers to his mouth, then proceeded to lick every trace of salt, oil and ketchup from the tips.
All but gasping for breath as instant images of Eric's tongue swirling around a far more sensitive portion of his anatomy filled his mind, Wes closed his eyes, but the teasing caress was over almost before it had begun. His whole hand tingled, and his pants grew tight enough to be uncomfortable as his libido went into sudden overdrive. Involuntarily, he squirmed in his seat to relieve the pressure in his suddenly too-tight jeans. "Eric …" he groaned.
The Quantum Ranger smiled inwardly. Having Wes feed him a few fries had certainly looked innocent enough to a casual observer; intimate, but not overt enough to attract an audience. And of course the tabletop had hidden his forays up and down as well as between Wes' thighs from the other patrons. Combined, though, both actions were anything but innocent … as were his plans for the rest of the evening. As he'd intended, they had the desired effect of making Wes forget their surroundings; he was already showing all the signs of arousal Eric recognized so well, and very soon he'd have him exactly where he wanted him.
"Finish your drink," he growled, darkening the timbre of his voice to match the smoldering look he directed at Wes as he shifted surreptitiously to ease his own trapped erection. There was a distinct tremor in Wes' hands as he obeyed and drained his glass.
-Excellent. Time to turn up the heat!-
oOo
"Now what?" Wes asked, glad he'd managed to set down his glass without dropping it. He knew the question had come out sounding breathless and somewhat squeaky, but he was beyond caring. He couldn't remember when he'd ever felt this horny, and if Eric kept up the slow strokes along his leg much longer, he wouldn't be able to guarantee his behavior. Either he'd come on the spot, or Eric was going to get jumped! Much to his disappointment, however, Eric let go of him completely and slid out of the booth.
"Get up," he said and stood aside to make room.
Owlishly, Wes blinked, but promptly scooted towards the edge of the bench. The movement brought him face-to-crotch with Eric, and the sight of the thick long ridge straining the worn denim tempted him almost beyond endurance to wrap himself around the trim hips, take the zipper tab between his teeth, pull it all the way down and …
"Get up, I said."
-Oh. Right. I can do that. I think.- Wes got to his feet, swaying slightly, and sent Eric a questioning look. "Are we going up to our room now?" he asked hopefully, only to frown perplexedly when Eric shook his head.
"Nope."
"Why not? Don't you want to, uh …"
"Have my way with you? Yes. But later."
The bald statement sent a wave of heat through Wes. He had no idea what Eric might be up to, but as long as they got to make use of the wide double bed he'd booked, he was game for anything. -Well … almost anything.- "Okay," he agreed, his mouth going dry with anticipation.
Eric's hand slid around his back and Wes nearly stumbled when the slight but insistent pressure turned him around and towards the half-filled dance floor. Eric followed closely behind him as he steered Wes through the crowd of dancers, but much to Wes' surprise he was stopped once they'd reached a reasonably empty space in the middle.
"Eric?" he wondered, but the angular face, partially masked by the colored strobe lights flashing in time to the music, gave nothing away. "We're, um, on the dance floor." -Oh, great. Way to state the obvious, Collins!-
"I know. Dance," Eric told him.
"What?!"
"Dance. For me," he added in a low undertone that sent more shivers up and down Wes' spine. Eric couldn't be serious, could he? As far as he knew, Eric didn't dance at all, and Wes hadn't done so in years except for taking a couple of rather sedate spins around formal ball rooms with guests of his father's, but the heated gaze from the black eyes gave no quarter … and a part of him he hadn't known he had was only too glad to comply. Clenching his fists at his sides, Wes let his eyelids droop shut, forced himself to relax and tuned in to the music, letting the bass beat sweep him along. Slowly, rather self-consciously, he began to move.
Eric watched him, entranced by the way Wes swayed his hips and let his head fall back as he gradually lost his inhibitions and gave himself over to the rhythm. The swirling lights alternately highlighted and obscured the handsome face, the toned chest and muscular legs, but to Eric it seemed as if his lover was standing under a spotlight. Inexorably drawn towards it, he waited until an opportune moment, closed the distance between them and slid his hands around the narrow waist. He wasn't really dancing, just providing a steadying point by copying the moves Wes made with his lower body. Eric soon had them perfectly synchronized, and when Wes' startled glance changed into a sultry smile, he pulled him even closer.
"Mmm." Wes tried to wrap his arms around his partner, but Eric just shook his head, indicating without words that he liked things the way they were for the moment. If Wes needed encouragement, though, he knew just how to give it! Eric started by letting one hand glide up Wes' side, skimming across the dark red cotton of his t-shirt with an expert touch. Wes' stomach muscles rippled under the thin fabric, and he licked his lips sensually, asking silently for more.
Eric gladly obliged. As the music rose and fell, he explored his partner's chest, pinching the small nipples erect and bringing their hips together so that they brushed against each other with every sway and turn. Wes moaned softly and instinctively thrust forward, but was immediately restrained by those maddening hands. Pouting playfully, he used a little of his own strength to turn around, but with his back now towards Eric, that ploy backfired on him rather spectacularly. Because now Eric had free rein to press his groin directly over the cleft of that tight, denim-covered ass. He held them together with one hand on Wes' belt and continued to tease his pecs and abs with the other until Wes' head fell back against his shoulder in surrender, the open, panting mouth begging for a kiss which Eric refused to give. Instead, he nipped and licked along the vein standing out in stark relief on the arched neck, feeling the quickened pulse with lips and tongue.
Neither man was aware that quite a number of patrons were watching them now, fascinated by the sensual display. If they had known, they wouldn't have cared; both were too caught up in each other to stop for anything other than what their bodies demanded.
Eventually Eric had enough; his need was threatening to overwhelm him and when the music changed to a different beat, he stilled all movement and gripped Wes' hips hard, making him stop as well. The blue eyes gleamed with barely-concealed lust, and when Wes moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, it proved to be the last straw.
"Upstairs. Now!"
Laughing throatily, Wes nodded and let himself be drawn against the hard body; with their arms around each other, they headed for the door.
oOo
They didn't even notice that the crowd of onlookers and fellow dancers parted for them with indulgent and/or envious smiles; they were too intent of gaining privacy so that they could rid themselves of suddenly chafing clothes and come together skin to skin, with no more barriers.
There was a small elevator tucked into one corner of the dim hallway; both men stepped inside and were kissing before the doors completely closed. A short ride up followed, spent busily devouring each other's mouths until they reached their floor where they quickly located the door to their room. Wes wanted to pluck his key card from his back pocket, but found himself pressed against the dark wood instead, Eric's mouth attacking his own once more while he unerringly reached for his crotch. Wes felt his head begin to swim as he groaned and ground his hips into that firm grip, breathing heavily by the time Eric released him and fumbled for the door lock. A couple of unsuccessful tries later, the lock clicked open at last and they stumbled inside.
"Eric, I-"
Whatever Wes wanted to say was swallowed by Eric's greedy mouth as he pinned him to the nearest wall, already reaching for him again. This time, there was no need to stop, so he abandoned himself willingly, grinding against the expert fingers that squeezed and stroked until he climaxed with a muffled shout.
Wes slumped slightly in Eric's grip, gasping for air as he surfaced from his near-explosive orgasm. "Whoa," he panted. "That was intense!"
"There's more where that came from," Eric said roughly, already yanking the tight red shirt out of Wes' waistband. "I want you naked – now!"
"Oh yeah," Wes grinned, eager to bring his lover to the same state of breathless release he had just experienced. He, too, went for the hem of Eric's t-shirt, and both men moaned when their bared chests touched. Impatiently, Wes waited his turn while Eric shoved down his jeans and now-messy underwear, kicked both aside and nearly ripped off the button before he could pull down the straining zipper on Eric's pants. Within minutes they were both naked, and Wes reached for Eric with trembling hands. Eric allowed himself to enjoy the familiar, knowing touch only briefly, though – he needed more than Wes' fingers or even his mouth, and there was a wide, comfortable bed only a few feet away. Prying Wes' hand loose, he gave his partner a not-quite-gentle shove in the right direction until they fell onto the bed together. They writhed against each other, kissing and touching wherever they could, until Eric lost what little patience he still had left and rolled on top of Wes, immobilizing him against the mattress.
"I've got to have you," he rasped. "Where's the lube?"
"Nightstand, I think," Wes groaned, already spreading his legs. They rarely felt such urgency, but Eric's show of dominance as well as the prolonged teasing session down in the bar had him so worked up that his recent climax had barely taken the edge off his arousal. He could only imagine how desperate Eric must feel right now. "Hurry!"
"Won't have to tell me twice."
Eric scrambled for the drawer and fumbled around until he found what he needed. With a triumphant grin, he knelt between the invitingly-open thighs and flipped the bottle's lid open. "Hold still; I don't wanna hurt you," he ordered, his dark eyes blazing with lust.
"You won't – ah!" Despite himself, Wes hissed sharply as a finger coated with cool gel entered his body. "Shit, that's cold!"
"Like that's a surprise? You'll be warm soon," Eric promised, his grin widening as he quickly and efficiently prepared his lover. Soon he was ready to move into position. A deep groan burst from his throat as he was engulfed by deliciously dark heat.
Wes moaned as well, but he held back from surrendering himself completely. It took an enormous effort, but there was one thing he wanted to say before the heat they were sure to generate between them obliterated all reason. He clenched his muscles to stop Eric from sliding in further and reached up to touch the flushed face hovering above his own.
"Eric? Eric, just a second," he pleaded, and was gratified to see that his partner retained enough control to hold back and look at him.
"What?" Eric growled, frustrated by the momentary delay.
Wes gave him his best smile as he drew him down for a gentle, loving kiss that was in stark contrast to their about-to-erupt passion. "Happy birthday," he murmured against the firm mouth, then lay back and relaxed completely.
There was a minute softening in Eric's expression as he briefly nodded in acknowledgement, then it grew fierce and predatory again. His smile turned shark-like, and before Wes realized what he intended to do, he slammed forward in one forceful thrust. Wes cried out in surprise and arched off the bed, only to be caught by strong arms and held tightly as Eric began to move with single-minded concentration. Whatever discomfort he felt was soon drowned out by lust and turned into pleasure.
Their coupling was hard, fast and furious; both men's bodies grew slick with sweat as they bucked against each other, and they were grunting almost in unison as the heat and friction drove Eric to increase his tempo to a near frenzy. Far too soon the coil of sexual tension in his gut exploded and he found his release with a muffled shout. Quivering in every muscle, he collapsed bonelessly on Wes' chest.
"Man, we've had some wild times before, but this was definitely one of the best," he gasped when he finally spiraled down from the ecstatic heights of moments before. Beneath him, Wes was also breathing hard – both from the exertion and renewed desire, proved by the hardness trapped between their bellies.
"Yeah," Wes panted, laughter in his voice. "Think we can make the next time just as good?" He wiggled his hips suggestively. Eric hissed sharply as a spark ignited his insides once more, then chuckled and kissed him.
"Sure. Just gimme a minute to get my second wind."
"A minute only? Are you sure you'll be up to it so soon?"
"Smartass," Eric grumbled half-heartedly at the atrocious pun, but moved his own lower body to show that he had lost very little of his enthusiasm, or his hardness. "Seriously, I can't remember when I've last been this horny," he continued more quietly, a smile entering his voice. "It's gonna take me more than once tonight to be done – same as you, right?"
"Uh huh. Glad to hear it," Wes smiled, shifting his legs a little to get more comfortable. "I take it you want to go for a second round?" Which was fine by him; he loved having Eric making love to him.
"Well, since I'm already in position …" Eric's attempt at innocence fell woefully flat, and Wes laughed, wrapping his arms around Eric's neck.
"That you are. Go ahead, then – make my day!"
"Your day? I thought this was supposed to be my birthday surprise?"
"The best kind of gift," Wes boasted, shivering with delight when Eric began to move again, slow and shallow this time. "Maximum enjoyment for both the giver and the recipient … ohhh!" He moaned because Eric reached between them and started to fondle Wes.
"If you can still say big words, I must be doing something wrong," Eric murmured, stroking gently. "Guess I better shut you up."
"Please do," Wes replied, and had his wish when his lover took his mouth in a deeply demanding kiss as they scaled the heights together once more.
It took longer this time for both to reach completion; they were no longer young enough to climax twice within such a short period, and because they enjoyed taking their time with each other, using all the expertise they'd gained to make this second round even more pleasurable than the first. Wes shuddered into orgasm first, then rode out his partner's way to the pinnacle and over, holding him tightly when he emptied himself a second time deep within him. Eventually, they slept.
oOo
The next morning started with a long, leisurely shower during which Wes found himself first on his knees, his mouth busy, then pressed against the tiled wall as Eric brought them both to yet another shattering climax. As far as both men were concerned, it was a perfect way to start the day.
"I'm gonna be so sore when I get home," Wes complained good-naturedly as he got dressed afterwards. "That hour-long ride isn't going to be fun."
Eric paused in looping his belt back on and frowned. "I haven't hurt you, have I?"
"Nah. You just wore me out," Wes grinned and went over to kiss him. "Don't worry, I'll live."
"I'm not worrying."
"Right," Wes laughed, seeing through that flippant reply without effort. "Never mind, I'll find a way to give you a sore ass one of these days, too."
Eric's dark eyes gleamed, but he managed to keep his expression indifferent. Barely. "Oh yeah? You and what army?"
"Don't need one. Just consider yourself warned."
"Hmph."
"Love you too," Wes replied teasingly, then grew momentarily serious. "Eric … can we talk about last night? Not necessarily now, but one of these days? I know I probably overstepped a line by arranging to come here without your prior consent, but I'd really like to know more of the time when you were away." He also wanted to explore the different dynamic they'd had between them, but that was a topic better left for yet another day.
Eric considered the hesitant request. He wasn't particularly keen on rehashing his past, but Wes had accepted things well enough when they unexpectedly cropped up – most notably, coming face to face with Nick and Jason. He never wanted Wes to look too closely into what had shaped him, but if Wes could embrace former lovers – -Well, not literally!- – then there was no reason to assume he couldn't do so with other things.In fact, each incident had made their relationship stronger in the end, and there was no reason why sharing a little more might not do the same.
-Besides, if it leads to more nights like the last … I'm all for it!- Having Wes be so pliant and obedient to his every impulse was a memory to be savored for days and nights to come … and if he was very, very lucky, could maybe repeated in the future. -Or I could do it for him …- Ruthlessly, Eric cut off that train of thought before it was fully formed. If he hadn't, they might never get out of this room for a week!
"I'll think about it," he said at last, the slight smile around his mouth making it far more definite than his words. "Can we have breakfast now? I'm starving."
"Sure," Wes agreed readily, knowing Eric well enough to read between the lines. He had waited long enough to find the person he could love; he could wait a little longer until he was willing to share. "Just don't make we wait too long."
"We'll see," Eric grumbled, tossed the last of their toiletries into the bag Wes had brought and zipped it shut. "Ready to go?"
"Whenever you are."
As they sat down in the restaurant, steaming mugs of coffee before them and their breakfast orders placed, Wes grinned at Eric. "So, since you obviously decided to let me live, are you gonna get me back for this birthday present?"
"You bet your ass I will," Eric grinned back. "But I'm not gonna tell you where or when, so watch out."
"Ooh, should I be scared?"
"Possibly. No, make that definitely."
The warmth in the blue eyes was contagious. "Sounds good. Surprise me!"
To Be Continued …