Once the elevator reached the lobby, and the doors slid open, Alan was the first to walk out. Ben couldn't help but notice his cool and confident walk, and started to follow him wherever he was going. But instead of being too close, he waited a minute or so before following Alan, keeping the man in his sights. Don'twannafreakhimoutwithastalkervibe, though Ben. It was enough that he was even following this man out of sheer curiosity, considering the unspeakable sex Ben had with him in dreamland, events that he dare not tell anyone about, not even his ex-wife. Not that he would tell her, anyway...

Alan had walked into the hotel's main restaurant, and upon reaching the bar, ordered himself a drink. "Ask my date what he wants once he gets here," said Alan to the bartender, motioning towards the door to Ben. Ben blushed on the spot, but how could he turn down an offer? He wasn't asked formally, but he might as well have been, since Alan was aware that he'd been following him all along. Ben then walked over to the bar. "I... don't need anything other than a glass of ice water, thank you."

"That's it?" asked Alan. "You sure? You look like you could use something stiff."

"No, I'm fine. How did you know I'd be here?"

"You were asking questions in the elevator."

"I didn't even say a word to you."

"No, but the expressions your face made gave you away, and it's obvious that you're curious as to what I'm all about." Damn, Ben thought; he couldn't hide his emotion anymore, but Alan didn't know the whole story. "So, um... what's you name?"

"Ben, sir."

"No need for formalities. I'm Alan, and this here is Richard." Alan said, pointing to the tall, lanky bartender. "I've known this man for years, and he's known to be the best bartender in the city. Master of his craft, I should say."

"Oh, don't mention it, old man," said Richard. "I have you to thank for introducing me to the owner of this place during its development. Can never thank you enough."

"The only way you can thank me is by keeping the drinks flowing for me whenever I come through, and you're always as good with the ladies as I am," said Alan, a grin growing wide across his face. Ben, a bit nervous, looked like a child compared to the other two men, regardless of the fact that he's a grown, thirty-something man.

"So what are you doing here?" Alan asked. "In this hotel, I mean."

"Oh, me? Um... long story."

"Did you get kicked out by your old lady? Those women troubles will fly by soon, and she'll be begging you to crawl back to her," said Richard, who didn't care whether or not he was out of tone.

"No, I... I just finalized on my divorce."

"Oh, boy. At least you got out when you could. You're still young, I imagine. You look like you're a bit too young to be worried about marriage and all that dumb shit. What are you, 15?" Richard giggled after Alan stopped speaking.

"No," said Ben defiantly. "I'm 35."

"Jesus! You sure don't look it, but the more you mope around, looking like shit, the quicker it'll creep up on you, and you won't know what hit you until you look older than me," said Richard. "Look at fucking Alan. He's 65 years young, and he doesn't look a day over 50."

"Shut your face, Richard. Old bastard."

"No, really. You should see the women he ends up leaving here with. Pretty young things, dressed in their skimpy outfits. I'm a year younger than Alan, but none of those girls would give me a second glance. What's your secret, Alan? You pull it out for them to see?"

"No, I don't," Alan said, annoyance in his voice. "I have no need to resort to such foolishness. These girls have no better option than these chavs that like to call themselves men; no manners, no consideration for others, and they'd rather walk around with printed t-shirts with ridiculous designs on them, saggy pants that hang off their asses and no belts, or hair with too much product in it. I just so happen to be a proper British gentleman who knows how to treat a woman right. Speaking of women, Ben, what went wrong in your marriage that it had to end?"

It took a while for Ben to answer, but he didn't want to seem like he was lying. "She... cheated on me. With our neighbor. In our bed." Ben was holding back tears as he talked; he took a deep breath and managed to contain himself before his emotions got out of hand.

"Fuck, mate," said Richard. "Why the fuck would she do that to you? You look like a good, clean bloke." Richard stopped and thought for a minute. "You're not gay, are you?"

"No, I'm not!"

"Ok, no need to yell at an asshat like Richard, as much as I love him." Alan was right, and this calmed Ben down. "Now, you're separated from-"

"Divorced," Ben corrected him.

"You're... divorcedfrom this woman, and now you're free. Free from having to ever worry about that haggard wench ever again."

"Here, here!" yelled Richard.

"Well, I wouldn't call her a..." Ben stopped once he noticed Alan and Richard staring him down. "Never mind. She's a stupid bitch who felt it best to fuck around with a twat of a neighbor, and I'm free from her, once and for all!"

"You tell 'em, boss!" Richard made a stiff drink for Ben, gin and tonic on the rocks and on the house. Ben realized that he should have played the pity card earlier, if it meant that he'd get a free drink in the process.

Alan and Ben ended up drinking plenty at that bar, and Ben realized that he'd had too much when he got down off of the stool and the floor started spinning. Alan paid for their round of drinks, said goodbye to Richard and helped Ben to the elevator, holding him by the arm.

"I should be fine from here. No worries."

"Well, I am worried about you. You look like you might not even make it to your room, with as much as you've been drinking. Must be a lightweight," Alan finished as he gave Ben the once-over.

"I'm not a lightweight," proclaimed Ben in his drunken stupor. His speech was slurred and his lisp was pronounced, which caught Alan's attention.

"Say whatever you want, but we're on the same floor, so I might as well help you to your room before you get yourself hurt. Come on."

The two men entered the lift once the doors opened; Alan held Ben close to him by the waist, and when they got to the back wall of the lift, Ben rested his head onto Alan's shoulder.

"You're awfully comfortable," slurred Ben. Alan was a man with a big body frame and plenty of meat to fill it out, and he'd gotten the same comment from women he'd bedded over the years. Even his wife found him comfortable when he'd gotten home from his business travels and would spend as much time as possible cuddling with him before he'd have to leave again.

"Thank you. I get that a lot."

"I can imagine."

There was something that was attracting Alan to Ben: maybe it was the fact that he looked so adorable while drunk, or it could have been the lisp he kept hearing whenever Ben spoke. The lisp was starting to give Alan a stiff one in his trousers, but through his mind, he begged his manhood to behave itself. Down,boy, thought Alan to his penis. It'snotagirl;saveyourselfforwhenweactuallygetbacktotheroom.

"Alan?" said Ben through slightly closed lips.

"Yes, Ben?"

"Thank you. For being so kind."

"No problem. Anything for a man as good as yourself."

"I don't think I'm that good of a man when my own wife fucks other men."

"You're a good man. Don't put yourself down like that. It wasn't your fault that she decided to fuck around, and it doesn't make you less of a man because she didn't fuck you instead."

They'd reached their floor, and Alan, still holding Ben by the waist, walked with him out of the lift.

"What's your room number?" Ben told him, and they walked, rather sloppily, to Ben's room. Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out the key card, but when he was unsuccessful in sliding it into the slot, Alan took the key card from him and opened the door. Once inside, Alan closed the door behind them, walked Ben over to the bedroom and to the edge of the bed, but as Alan was about to lay Ben down, Ben flung his arms around Alan's neck, Alan landing on top of him.

"What are you doing?" asked Alan, confused and shocked.

"I don't know, but it feels right." Ben was still drunk, but it sounded as if his speech was slightly improving. Maybe the booze was starting to wear off little by little.

"I need to go," said Alan, but Ben wouldn't release him. All he could do was smile up at Alan, soon grabbing his face with both hands.

"I'm sorry, Alan. You're such a nice guy, and you're being so good to me. I'm..." His mind started to wander, looking for the right words to continue the sentence. "I'm so sorry. So sorry." Ben's hands fell to each side of him, his words trailing off into whispers.

"It's all fine," said Alan. "All fine. I'm gonna leave you at it, and if you need anyone to talk to, I'll leave you my number." Alan, grabbing the notepad and pen on the nearby nightstand, wrote his cell number down, placing both back into their place after he finished. "Call me after you sober up. I'll probably see you around the hotel, depending on how long you'll be here."

"Ok, Alan," said Ben, his lisp shining through his slurred speech, making Alan's stiff manhood apparent through his trousers. When Ben's drunken grin widened, Alan thought Ben had noticed his arousal, turning towards the door to hide it from him.

"Good night, Ben," Alan said, and with a final wave, walked out of the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

"Good night, Alan," Ben yelled out once the door shut. He rolled over to his side, grabbing the nearest pillow and hugging it tightly. "Too bad he couldn't stay," Ben whispered to the pillow, "but you could be his replacement for tonight." Ben would cap the night by falling asleep while making out furiously with his new companion, while Alan, in his room and lying in bed, wanked himself to slumber following climax.

It was a wonder that Ben woke up without a hangover, bearing in mind how much he'd drank a few hours before. He still felt a bit drunk, so he stumbled to the bathroom with a glass, filling it with tap water. He gulped it down at once during his walk back to the bed, placing the empty glass onto the nightstand and crawling back under the covers after turning on the television. Nothing that was on kept him occupied; on his mind was the thought of what happened earlier that day: going to the bar with his new friend, Alan, and getting pissed on gin and tonics. "Never doing that again," Ben said to himself as he pulled the covers over his head in embarrassment.

Ben rolled over to his right side and noticed the folded piece of paper resting on the nightstand, slightly open. He grabbed it and open the paper some more to see Alan's cell number on it. Idon'tknowifIshouldcallhim;don'twannascarehim, Ben pondered to himself. The last thing Alan needs is this once half-drunk bastard, the same one he dragged to their room because they were too drunk to function, calling him at all hours. Ben was forever grateful to have a cell phone of his own, for it'd be more appropriate to text him. HopefullyAlan'scellisonvibratesoheisn'tdisturbed...

Thankyouforyourhelp.Iapologizeifitwasoutofyourway,orifImanagedtodoanythingstupidandoutofline.Didn'twanttodisturbyouwithacall.Goodnight!

Yeah,thatshouldbegood, Ben thought.Timetogetsomemoresleep.