How Triangles Work

Peter had been in New York for two days but he hadn't called Derek. He didn't even know why he suddenly wanted to get in contact with his nephew. Derek might not want to hear from him ever again.

Peter was only a few years older than Derek and they used to be close. Before the fire. After the fire things had been different.

Now, with years of distance, Peter wasn't blaming Derek any longer. His nephew had been the main victim, he could see that now, but back then, when things had been fresh and Peter had to bury his wife and his unborn child along with the rest of his family, he hadn't been able to even look at Derek. So he'd left.

He'd come back for Laura's funeral and he'd come around by then, at least partly, but he hadn't known how to approach his nephew who'd been lost in his own grief so Peter had left again.

He didn't know why Derek had invited him to his wedding. Maybe it had been an attempt to bridge the distance between them, they were the only ones left after all, and Peter would have loved to attend but at that time he'd pissed off the wrong people and he didn't want to bring Derek to their attention so he'd gone into hiding for a while.

And now he was here in New York and couldn't bring himself to call him. What if he'd missed his chance to reconnect with him by not coming to Derek's wedding?

They hadn't stayed in contact but Peter had made sure to keep track of his only living relative. So he knew that Derek was living in New York with his husband and that they both were teaching at the university. Derek was a professor of astrophysics no less. Professor Derek Hale. It still sounded strange. But it did fit the quiet boy who'd sneaked out in the middle of the night with his telescope to watch the stars. A few times Peter had joined him on the roof of the house or when there was something important to see, he'd driven them out to an empty field where no trees were blocking the view and they had been the only people around for miles. Peter hadn't joined him often and Derek did prefer to be by himself but now Peter was thinking back to those occasions with nostalgia. He wondered if Derek still had a telescope. Not that there was much to see of the stars in New York with its tall buildings and the light pollution. Maybe Derek was more interested in the theoretical side of the stars now than watching them. Peter would never know if he didn't give him a call, though.

Instead of just making that call, Peter grabbed his wallet and left his hotel room. He was in New York, it was Saturday evening, he should be able to find some distraction.

He was in New York frequently but usual on business trips which either meant suit and tie meetings and dinner in fancy restaurants or backroom deals that left him smelling of cigarette smoke and cheap booze. There was no in-between. However, he'd never bothered with checking out the clubbing scene. Today he felt like doing exactly that.

The name of the club was Jungle and it turned out to be frequented by the gay population. Peter wasn't sure why or how he'd ended up here but he wanted a drink so once his eyes had adjusted to the dim light, he made his way over to the bar.

He did prefer women over men but if the occasion struck he wasn't one to say no to a pretty twink willing to suck his dick. Not that that was his goal for the night. It did, however, make him feel less out of place.

Peter ordered whiskey and got comfortable at the bar. Here the music was not too loud but still loud enough to numb his mind and he had a good view on the people dancing on the floor. They were young and carefree, enjoying the evening.

Peter was on his second drink but more playing with the glass and watching the amber liquid than actually drinking it. His mind was back on Derek. Had he met his husband in a club like this? Not that Peter could picture his nephew among these people. They had probably met in the library. As far as Peter knew the other man was also a professor.

"Careful with that." Suddenly somebody spoke up next to him. "This stuff is way too expensive to spill over the counter."

Deep in thoughts, Peter hadn't realized how close he'd brought the whiskey to the rim of the glass with his swirling. He stopped the motion and watched the liquid calm down before he glanced over to the man who'd taken the stool next to him.

"But if you spill it, it would give me an excuse to buy you a new one." The guy grinned at him. A broad grin, open and happy. He'd run his hand through his hair too often, turning it into a disheveled mess that made him look younger. It went along with the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You don't seem to have something to drink," Peter observed after a long moment. "Maybe I can buy you a drink?"

The grin widened.

A minute later, Peter watched in fascination when his new friend attacked the cocktail he'd ordered. Something colorful with pieces of fruit stuck on the rim and most importantly it came with a straw. Peter couldn't care less about the drink, he was mesmerized by the lips wrapped around the straw. The guy took a long pull and then he swirled his tongue around the plastic to catch stray droplets.

"I love this drink." He switched to stirring it with the straw while he gave Peter a glance with hooded eyes.

"I can see that." Peter hadn't come here looking for company but damn, he might just have changed his mind.

"I like the taste." He emphasized that statement by taking the straw sideways between his lips and ever so slowly pulling it out to lick it clean.

Usually, Peter was not that easy but at this sight, he couldn't help but wonder how those lips would feel around his dick.

"And it gives the guys ideas." The grin was back, the guy knew exactly what he was doing to Peter.

"Oh, I do have some ideas." Peter turned back to his drink and knocked it back with a sharp motion. He raised the empty glass at the bartender to indicate that he needed more. A few drinks and maybe letting this guy go down on him did sound like a good idea.

It had been a while. He hadn't been in a relationship since Olivia and he doubted that he would ever have that again. Even if he wanted to, he doubted that he would be a good partner. It wouldn't be fair to the other person.

But something like this?

He glanced over to the other man who was happily back at sipping his drink while he was molesting the straw at the same time.

This was fun and easy, just some stress relief with no strings attached.

When the man had finished his drink, Peter bought him a new one and when a hand landed on his thigh, Peter didn't throw it off. Quite the opposite, he let his legs fall open, a silent invitation.

The hand inched farther up his thigh and Peter felt himself hardening in his jeans. He half-expected the man to palm him through the fabric but the hand stayed an appropriate distance from his crotch, they were in public after all.

Peter was about to suggest taking this to his hotel room when the man leaned in and brushing his lips over the sensitive skin behind his ear he said: "Want me to blow you?"

Peter was not a horny teenager, he was not, but when the man dragged him to the restrooms, he went along willingly.

They passed kissing couples with hands down their pants in the hallway to the restrooms but for what they were about to do Peter wanted at least the illusion of privacy. It was a miracle but the restroom was almost empty. Only one guy was washing his hands, they would be alone in a second here.

Peter met his partner in a hungry kiss. He slipped a hand under the guy's shirt while they stumbled in a tangle of legs into the nearest stall. Peter caught the guy at the sink staring at them with big eyes but then he hurried out of the room without drying his hands. Not that Peter cared. There were hands blindly pawing at his fly while the man was trying to eat off his face. Not that Peter was any better. He met his lips open and hungry, it had been way too long.

Cold air hit his heated cock when his pants got pulled down in a rush but then hot wetness closed around the head of his erection. Somewhere in between the guy had even managed to put a condom on him.

He had the nerve to look up at Peter innocently with his lips wrapped around the tip of his cock but then he dove in in earnest.

He did live up to the expectations he'd set with the straw. It didn't take long and he'd reduced Peter to a needy mess. Peter let his head fall back against the cold tiles, his butt almost slipping off the edge of the closed lid of the toilet he was sitting on, and let the man do whatever he wanted to do down there.

"Did I break you?" Resting his cheek on Peter's still trembling thigh the man looked up at him. He looked way too pleased with himself.

"Give me a moment." Peter swallowed thickly.

"I'd love to ride you but you don't look up for that at the moment." Still with his head resting on Peter's thigh, he probed his half-stiff dick with a finger.

"I would prefer a bed for that anyway." Peter mustered enough energy to hoist himself up to a proper sitting position. "I have a hotel room."

The man gave him a considering look, weighing the risk of following that invitation no doubt, but in the end, he nodded.

They did end up in Peter's bed where he showed him that he had some aces up his sleeve as well.

"Damn that was good." Covered with come and sweat, chest still heaving from his latest orgasm, the man looked fucked out and very happy. Peter couldn't help a proud smile at that sight.

Peter offered him a wet washcloth and a towel and then he drew the covers over both of them. It was late and Peter was more than willing to drift off to sleep with this man in his arms but he had other ideas.

"I should leave," he said into the dark room but didn't move.

"You can stay," Peter offered.

"Are you offering me breakfast as well?" He rolled to his side to face Peter but it was too dark to make out his expression. He did sound amused, though.

"Why not?" Peter wasn't looking for the love of his life and so far the man hadn't even offered a name but they were warm and content here, why not draw this out for a little while longer?

"Better not." He leaned in for a parting kiss before he rolled to his other side and got up.

Peter propped himself up on one elbow and watched him searching around for his clothes.

"This was fun," the man said, hopping around on one foot while he tried to get into his underwear. "I wouldn't mind repeating this."

"Same for me." Peter followed the line of his back with his eyes when the man bent down to put on his pants. He wouldn't mind at all.

"I'm at the Jungle most Saturdays. Maybe I'll see you around again." He didn't bother with turning around so Peter couldn't see his grin but it was audible.

"Maybe," Peter said with a smile playing on his lips. Looked like he had another reason to stay in New York for a little while longer.

Peter still couldn't bring himself to call Derek but he was at that club again the next Saturday.