High Stakes.

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Trevor was tall, with soft features, yet boyishly lean. He had sad brown eyes and a grin that lit up the place. When he got going, his one-liners were real zingers, and some nights they just couldn’t stop laughing. They’d been out a few times with a bunch of friends, but then they started going out, just the two of them.

Trevor was so scared on the phone when he called the first time. It really touched Daniel, in a man so big and confident otherwise.

So far, he was painfully shy about asking.

Daniel had his mind all set to do something about that. Trevor had kissed him when dropping him off after a movie, more than a week ago now, but then on the next date he was so shy and diffident. It was like he couldn’t do it. The first date was a wake-up call. They shook hands afterwards. Daniel really liked Trevor and Ian was off in university. He was convinced Trevor was a virgin. Sex with Ian was all right, the few times they actually did it. Ian had pursued him all through high-school, in a half-kidding, half-contemptuous manner. After they had sex a few times, he was just different. He didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to Daniel after a while, and then expected him to put out at the drop of a hat. Daniel wasn’t his first choice, not at all. Not anymore. Trevor was secretive. Something had happened.

Daniel was a free man—one who just might do it for Ian when he had no one else on the line. Any deep affection he’d had for Ian vaporized. He’d relied on Ian’s attentions in some ways. He liked Ian. In many ways, Ian was a nice guy, cute enough in his own way. Ian was better than nothing. And he was gone, bitter realization that it was.

Trevor was different. He was obviously interested, and didn’t act like he owned Daniel. Such a gentleman, too, always running around to hold the door open for him, holding hands like he loved it when they walked any distance. He couldn’t get enough of him. Trevor had an inferiority complex to beat anything he’d ever seen, unlike dear old Ian. And yet he was good-looking. He was smart, he was funny. He dressed well. He had a job and made good money. Daniel had a feeling about Trevor. Trevor would set out to change the world, and he liked that. Trevor was a hopeless romantic, and he kept calling up. What was not to like? He felt safe when he was with Trevor. That streak of protectiveness was very appealing. Trevor was afraid of messing it up, which really said something about how he felt about Daniel. For him, the stakes must seem very high. There was nothing casual about Trevor. That intensity intrigued Daniel very much.

The TV went on and Trevor headed to the kitchen. He settled onto Trevor’s sagging red couch, with swirling paisley upholstery and art deco arms that might have looked elegant in the 1930s. They had stopped at the liquor store. Trevor returned with two brimming glasses of a cheap, bubbly wine. Daniel had insisted on chipping in, and made him buy a magnum. Daniel was totally prepared, serene in his mission’s purpose and outcome.

“How was work?”

“Um, it was okay.”

“I laid around in the back yard all day. Tanning. I got a bit of colour, I guess.” Daniel was just teasing him.

“Well, good for you. Some of us have to work for a living.”

Daniel laughed. He started a summer job on Monday. Although he hadn’t been accepted at school yet, he was still hopeful.

Daniel was just softening him up a little. He wondered what was going through Trevor’s mind as the mental picture of him in a banana-style bathing suit registered on Trevor’s face with a far-off look and a flurry of blinks.

Trevor gave him a funny little grin, and his eyes dropped quickly away.

(End of excerpt.)

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Excerpt: Throwing It Down.

With the trade show a yearly thing, Chad had a hotel room reservation and knew a little bit about the place. He had also promised something in the way of a present. They talked for hours on the phone almost every night for the last week. That kind of intimacy was a revelation to Andre. It was almost unbelievable, to feel safe in confiding his most hidden emotions in someone. It was spiritual liberation, to have a friend of that intimacy. To say he had kind of poured his heart out would be grievous understatement, and he had listened very much to the other man as well.

Chad was sincere, but just how strong those feelings were was one question, and where it might lead was another.

Andre visualized himself in Chad’s room, dressed in a filmy peignoir, white lacy stockings with a garter belt, dangling emerald earrings...his penis was at full attention by this time, and he cast his thoughts to the shoe store he’d looked up online. The right shoes would be something else. The memory of how his feet looked, the graceful curves of his calves, wrapping up and around Chad’s hips, making love beside the campfire, it was unforgettable. Just the way it framed the big shoulders of Chad and the intent look on his face. He could still feel Chad’s bristly chest on his inner thighs, the wet feel of Chad’s mouth on his cock. The things he said, and more than anything the safe and cuddly feeling he got when nestled in Chad’s arms. A lot of the time, kissing and gazing were the only things going on. Chad knew exactly what he needed.

One of the personal revelations was the fact that he needed love, and very, very badly.

Chad had a face full of character, although honestly, after three weeks, it was a bit hazy. Andre had no idea how things would be this time. But when he decided to call Chad, for surely the choice was up to him, his mood lightened and he felt good about taking the plunge. He had no regrets about their time at the lake, only that it had ended and his fantasy was over. But it didn’t have to end. All he had to do was to take that fantasy and turn it into a new reality. Maybe familiarity would breed contempt, but he didn’t think so. Ultimately, he could quit and never do it again. He could go back to the old way. He could go back to being alone all the time. The trouble was, he didn’t want to, and so a weekend in Burlington it was to be.

He had about a three-hour drive ahead of him, but starting at this hour, traffic would be light until he got close to the Big Smoke. The night was dark, the road was clear and he had everything he needed under the slick fiberglass bed cap of the blue Sonoma he drove.

Andre could make the shoe store stop and still get to Burlington by one a.m. or so. He thought he might squeeze into a woman’s size eleven. He would buy something that looked good on sheer impulse, and explain without prompting that his girlfriend would be totally surprised, but it was her birthday and she had been feeling a bit down lately.

You could get away with anything if you were prepared to lie about it. In such a situation, a bit of a blush and a stammer might be just the thing.

End

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