"Tom! Have they employed you as the doorman and security tonight?" Dylan hadn't expected the cleaner to open the door. Short, slim, and very much the feminine gay guy, Tom would have to draw on his history of acting if he was going to pass for a party bouncer.
"Darling, please, do I look like security." Tom swung the door wide open. "Come on in and why don't you introduce me to your BLT."
"Come again?"
"BLT, like the bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich that you'd like to eat for breakfast. BLT, a Boy I'd Like To, in the morning. Or Boy I'd Like To do at any time of day."
"This is Jamie; I think he's too sweet to be your flavor." Dylan stroked the back of his fingers affectionately down Jamie's face.
Tom cocked his head to one side. "I have my favorite flavors, but I'll eat any kind of gay from the beautiful boy buffet."
Jamie and Tom shook hands.
Dylan suspected that, like Christmas trees and musicals, and similarly both as camp, Tom and Jamie would get along well. "Jamie, I don't need to tell you Tom's a big flirt. Or small flirt. Or flirts bigger than he stands tall."
Jamie laughed. "I get it."
They stepped into the large hallway.
"Sweetie, I can tell by looking at you, you're exactly one of my favorite flavors. I love a guy in shorts. Let me know if you'd like to take me up on my breakfast offer. You'll need to let me know quite early on, as that offer will probably be snapped up. They'll be stiff competition, if you know what I mean."
Jamie laughed. "Likewise to that."
Dylan placed a protective arm around Jamie's shoulder. "Yeah, I don't think Jamie will have any difficulty finding offers tonight, Tom. So where are the hosts?"
"They are here somewhere. I was just closest to the door when I saw you two arrive through the window."
"So how do you to know each other?" Jamie asked.
"I work as Gary and Mike's cleaner. I think we might have first met when Dylan was working for them as a laborer. Is that right?"
Dylan nodded in agreement as they slowly walked the length of the hallway, toward the direction of the noise, the sound of talking and music. The loud music came from the main sitting room. Loud enough to dance but not loud enough that you couldn't speak. Dylan suspected most guests were in the garden, because it was a warm night, and a pool party after all, despite the lack of an actual pool.
Or in the kitchen, because it was a party.
Dylan suddenly remembered a little more about the man he was talking to, his friends, and one friend in particular. "Is Lee here?" Dylan asked. Dylan turned to Jamie. "Speaking of BLT, you must meet Lee. I'd introduce you, but all I can do is stammer and drool in his presence."
Tom raised his eyebrows and looked into Dylan's eyes as if he could read his mind. He probably could. All the men who'd ever met him must have the same filthy thoughts about Tom's friend Lee. "I thought he'd be here tonight, but it turns out he's not coming."
It was no bad thing that Lee wasn't there. He had the charisma and the reputation of perfect boyfriend material, a dominant personality that he'd carry through to the bedroom. By reputation rather than personal experience, Dylan knew Lee was a top.
Tom laughed and nodded. "It's absolutely true. Lee gets that a lot. He should be at Colin and Greg's party tomorrow afternoon. Are you going to that?"
Jamie shook his head. "I don't know them."
"I do, and you'll be my plus one." Dylan squeezed Jamie. He was so sweet and so new to the local gay scene. There were times when Dylan felt like he knew everyone, but he remembered what it was like to come out and know no one.
"Great. I'll be there so don't worry. I can introduce you if Dylan's having trouble tripping over his tongue. You know what they say, Jamie. So many men, so little time. I've got to circulate so let's chat more later. I know everyone here so if you need the lowdown on anyone, and if Dylan can't tell you, then ask me."
"Tom is trying to tell you he’s slept with almost everyone here, so there's not a lot he doesn't know about them."
"Dylan! Me?" Tom's hand went to his chest as he feigned hurt. Such a drama queen and such an actor. "Much as I wish that were true. May I just remind you that I've never done anything with either of you." Tom looked up toward the ceiling as if trying to remember something important. "I don't think we've ever even done different men, same room sex have we, Dylan? You are young enough to remember that kind of thing. Whereas at my age you really do lose track."
"So many men, Tom?" Dylan said as Tom waved at them and went through the door that led to the garden.
As far as Dylan was concerned, gay men could be divided into three groups: good friend material, boyfriend material, or neither of the above. Tom and Jamie were good friend material. Fun and easy to get along with. When in the company of boyfriend material, Dylan's brain could seize up in an eagerness to impress; he was more likely to act a fool and struggle to find the right witty, intelligent things to say.
Ideally, boyfriend material would be easy to get along with as well, but he would have a certain something else: a sex appeal that spoke to every dirty desire in Dylan's heart. A gentleman in public, he would ooze the ultra masculine flavor which left you in no doubt that he was a dominant top in the bedroom. Unfortunately, when the heavenly lord distributed gay men in this town, he didn't account for the supply and demand of certain attributes. There seemed to be not enough men like Lee to meet the demand for men who desired a man like Lee.
A bit of versatility was a good thing as far as Dylan was concerned, but he mostly preferred to bottom, and he wanted a guy in the bedroom who'd mostly top. It wasn't just about a sexual position; Dylan wanted a dominant lover who liked to take control. This was something he associated with hypermasculinity, not femme guys.
Familiar with the house, Dylan led the way into the kitchen, the heart of any party and the place to get a drink.
"At last we find one of our hosts." Dylan's announcement to Jamie was also intentionally loud enough to attract Mike's attention.
It worked. Mike's smile beamed across the kitchen as if Dylan were the guest of honor. Mike was that kind of guy. Always made people feel good about themselves. He strode across the room to greet them, and a couple of men followed him. His entourage. Mike was always the center of attention with his jokes, pranks, and stories.
"Mike, let me introduce Jamie."
"Jamie, nice to meet you."
"Same. Great party. Great house you've got here."
Of course, Jamie was impressed by the house. Dylan had warned him about it before they arrived. It was, at one time, a fairly typical detached older house. What Mike and Gary had done to it, not just modernizing but with a certain stylish ‘wow factor’, well, it had to be seen to be believed.
"Thanks. I can't really take the credit. It's not my house. It belongs to my boyfriend, Gary."
Semantics. "Aren't you two practically married?" Dylan said. It wasn't a question but a statement of fact. "So what's his is yours. And where is Gary? We haven't seen him yet. In fact, I don't know whether you should be worried, but a total stranger opened the door and let us in. You could find your party full of gatecrashers at this rate."
Mike laughed. "I'm not worried. Who'd want to crash this party? And we've some pretty tough guys here who'd have no problem evicting troublemakers and other unsavory characters.”
"Security? Insecurity, more like," one of the other men in the room chipped in.
"Dylan, Jamie, not sure if you know Alan and Keith. They work with me sometimes." Turning to the other men, he continued the introductions. "Dylan has worked with me for a few weeks, and Jamie is his friend. Boyfriend?" he asked.
Dylan and Jamie both shook their heads.
"I perfected my broom skills working in this house. You won't believe how just how much sweeping up goes on in a building site." Dylan was no handyman or not even good at DIY. He'd been employed as a no-skilled laborer. Able to swing a broom and do the heavy lifting when extra muscle was required.
Mike chuckled. "You won't believe just how much mess Gary can make when he's in action."
"I think you should rephrase that." Dylan noticed all the eyebrows in the room rise in response to Mike's comment.
"Your dirty mind, Dylan. I'm sure Jamie understands. If you haven't ever seen a carpenter work, I meant the mess Gary makes when doing carpentry work. Not when we are fucking."
Jamie nodded with a big grin on his face. "Yes, that's exactly what I understood. Having never met Gary, I can't imagine the mess he makes when fucking."
"Let me get you two a drink."
They left Keith and Alan to chat among themselves.
Mike didn't pause for breath. "I think whoever opens the door simply lets guys in on the basis of them looking cute and girls if they look queer."
"That's not a bad door strategy," Dylan said. "Where's Gary?"
"Gary is here somewhere, doing the rounds. Now tell me, you two look pretty loved up. Dylan, is this your new beau?"
Dylan slipped his arm around Jamie's waist. "Better than that. Jamie is my best friend."
Mike looked between the two of them as if he didn't quite believe the platonic nature of their friendship. "I thought you were seeing someone, Dylan?"
"I was, it's over. Let's say we didn't see eye to eye. While I was seeing him, it turned out he was seeing everyone. Cheating bastard."
"If you want my opinion, and even if you don't I'll give it anyway, you two should quit this 'just friends' status. You look too perfect together to be just friends." Mike put air quotes around ‘just friends’ and moved closer, in a conspiratorial way. "This offer isn't open to everyone, but if you to want to use the guest room tonight, you can. Dylan, you know where it is."
Wow.
That was a great offer. Mike knew Dylan lived with his parents, so taking guys home could be a little awkward. But Mike was bringing forth a whole new level of awkward. Jamie and Dylan were friends. Why would he imagine they'd ever work as a couple? Clearly, he didn't know Jamie, but. No. Just no.
"Well, I better find Gary to let him know you two might be making a mess of your own in the guest room. In fact, trying clear up after yourselves. There is everything you need in there, just rummage through the drawers, and if you have any complaints, tell the doorman."
Mike left Jamie and Dylan and went to talk to more new arrivals who were loitering in the hallway.
"Don't mind Mike; he's always like that. Ignore his match making."
"That's obviously why you got on so well with him. I mean the dirty mind, not the matchmaking, of course."
"Yeah. Working for him and Gary was a good vacation job. I was lucky to land a summer job like that and laboring is good money." Easy work, easy money, and while working for a gay couple, he hadn't had to hide anything about himself.
"You sound so butch when you talk like that."
"Like even more than usual?" Dylan winked. He hadn't thought of it that way. He couldn't imagine Jamie doing manual work at all. Jamie was tall, strong, and as fit as any gay man his age, but he didn't come across as the type to do manual work. If he were going to sweep up, it would be in a hairdressing and beauty salon rather than on a dusty and dangerous building site. "I need to visit the boy's room. Do you want to wait here and we'll circulate together when I get back?"
The wall was really quite grubby when examined closely. Dylan kept his eyes firmly fixed, tracing a dark smudge along one side of the corridor, rather than look up and lock eyes with his ex.
There was no other route to the party from the bathroom, located down an isolated corridor. It would be difficult to stay out of Carl's vision, but there was no need to acknowledge each other. He didn't want to talk to Carl or even look at his smug, let-me-take-you-for-a ride, screwing-around face.
Those few yards felt like an extremely long distance.
Once back in the main part of the house, with Carl left behind him, Dylan could breathe again. The kitchen had filled up in his brief absence. Everyone in the house must've decided they needed a drink. He scanned the room, but before he saw Jamie, he heard him.
"Are you all right?"
It must've been obvious he wasn't.
"I was. And I still am. It's just that I saw Carl. He's here."
Mike or Tom could've warned him, but neither of them knew they were ever dating.
"Do you want to leave?" Jamie asked. It was so sweet of him when they were surrounded by hot guys in every meaning of the word.
"No. I knew I'd run into him. I just hoped it wouldn't be so soon. If there's any place to get my mind off my cheating, good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend, it's at a party like this."
"That's the attitude. When he sees you, he should totally regret what he's lost. Let him see you here enjoying yourself. And he knows he stands no chance of getting back with you." Despite his young age and inexperience, Jamie's words were so true.
The problem was Carl wasn't good for nothing. He was very good for some things. Dylan feared he was too weak to resist temptation. If Carl propositioned him, he'd crumble like the crust on Mount Etna. Just like the volcano, he was ripe to explode.
"Let's get another drink," Dylan suggested.
Jamie placed a hand on Dylan's shoulder. "I don't think you should drown your sorrows. You don't want him to see you drunk and wallowing in self-pity. Let's go and dance instead."
Dancing to the great music surrounded by scantily clad guys, a wise plan if ever he needed one.
"I should probably show you around. It is a pool party, so I think the garden first. And we'll see if I can introduce you to Gary, so he doesn't think you're a gatecrasher." Dylan felt perfectly at home, having worked on the property while it underwent transformation from a barely habitable, dilapidated old house into the modern temple of design and technology that they stood in today. And that was just as its owners would have liked.
Despite the pool theme of the party, Dylan knew there was no pool at the property, just a hot tub in the garden. Dylan took Jamie by the hand and led him through the kitchen's open French windows out into the garden. Just to one side, out of view from the kitchen, there was, in fact, a pool.
Close to the kitchen, to the right as they stepped through the French doors, he saw a makeshift pool area. A toddler's paddling pool approximately seven feet wide contained several toy ducks and plastic boats floating on water approximately seven inches deep. Beside the paddling pool were a couple of sun loungers and beach towels under a parasol. A toddler's mobile sandpit complete with bucket and spade sat alongside and a traditional windbreak lined the garden fence.
"I love the attention to detail." Jamie leaned closer to Dylan and pointed at the beach-themed corner.
The scene was certainly amusing, however, Dylan noted Carl's buddies standing way too close for comfort, and as he looked around, desperate for an excuse to escape, he saw Gary entering the house via a different route.
"We've done the garden, and I just saw Gary go inside, so let's follow him." Dylan pulled Jamie in the direction of the glass conservatory that led through to the sitting room, which sounded as if it had been converted to a dance hall for the night.
The music in the sitting room was not so loud that people couldn't talk, but it was loud enough to deter conversation and encourage dancing. A popular dubstep track meant anyone with ears would find it difficult to remain still.
Even though Gary was still within sight, he'd made contact with Mike and it appeared they were having a moment. Dylan didn't want to interrupt. So with Jamie by his side, he led them to the center of the crowded room to dance too.
Since they'd met several months earlier, Dylan and Jamie had gone out dancing once or twice a week most weeks and were soon caught up moving in time to the syncopated rhythms.
Sometimes holding on to each other, bumping and grinding against each other, sometimes their hands in the air, or twirling around. This was what partying was all about—fun, fun, and music.
If either of them had danced like that with a stranger it may have been misinterpreted as fearless flirting, but with each other, as with other friends, it was simply having a good time. Not intended to lead anywhere.
If Dylan had danced with Carl in the same way, it would’ve been foreplay.
The bump and grind, the touching and holding.
Easily misinterpreted.
Dylan with Jamie, it was just two friends having fun.
It was obvious there would never be anything between them. Jamie was way too sweet to contemplate in any kind of sexual way. Tall and with a good body that he'd show off in tiny vests, there was nothing wrong with how Jamie looked. Nothing at all. He was positively eyecandy if you went for cute, sweet, and sexy wrapped in the lithe body of a twenty-year-old. Personality, Jamie had bucket loads. He was interesting to talk to, with funny stories, and considerate.
Damn hot, too, and any man would be lucky to be seen with him. When they got to know him they’d discover the genuine nice guy underneath.
He had everything any man could want in a boyfriend, really.
Tonight wasn't the first time people had commented that they looked as if they should be a couple.
It was just that there wasn't the right chemistry between them. Dylan had a certain type he went for and it wasn’t sweet, cute, and gentle, or slightly femme. Yet, as they moved together, comfortable, touching, making eye contact like they never had before, he couldn’t help but think: Why not?
Dylan liked random dick as much as the next gay man. It didn't always have to lead to a relationship. Why shouldn't they just have fun together. As friends?
After all, when Dylan thought he was saving himself for one man, that guy had thought nothing of playing around. As he was leaving to return to university in the autumn, Dylan had never fooled himself into believing things could last long term with Carl, but he thought they were going to be faithful while it did. When he found out Carl had been mucking around with other guys he’d felt humiliated and used, as if they were all mocking him behind his back.
Let Carl and his cronies see him now. Having real fun with another guy.
Each with one hand on a hip of the other man, they gyrated like pole dancers. Movements any more suggestive and they would be having actual sex. Bodies moving with the music. More caught up in the moment than seemed possible. Lips moving together. Then they were kissing.
A mouth that tasted so fucking hot. A moment that felt fucking terrific. A desire that ignited and burned.