boystown (13 page)

I’m not sure what my apartment was originally meant to be, but I know it wasn’t an apartment.

In the summer, the place is nicely landscaped, and I get to look out at flowers through my street-level windows. In the winter, snow piles up against those windows, and I can pretend I live in an igloo.

When I walked into my building’s small foyer, I immediately saw Brian Peerson leaning up against my door with a bag of groceries at his feet. “What’s up?” I asked.

“I brought dinner. I thought we could have like a Valentine’s thing. You know, since you had to work on the real Valentine’s Day.” I could tell he was itching to add, “and because you didn’t call me yesterday.”

“Come on in,” I said. I’d met Brian about a month before and sort of saved his life from a murderously inclined stepfather. We’d been seeing each other a little since he got back from
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burying his mother downstate. So far, it hadn’t worked out too badly for me, but I suspected that wasn’t the case for Brian.

My apartment is like a maze. The kind of place where a hamster might feel right at home. Four rooms that curl around each other. A living room, a bedroom, a kitchen, and a junk room.

There’s a bathroom with a claw-foot bathtub and a couple of oddly-shaped closets. The radiators hang from the ceiling and hiss at my guests -- even if I like them.

When we worked our way around to the kitchen, Brian unpacked the groceries. “Did you have a nice Valentine’s Day?”

“Not really. I worked ’til one a.m. And then the place I work burned down.”

He turned and studied my face to see if I was joking. “It really burned down?”

“Yes. I’ve been trying to find out what happened.”

“Oh,” he said.

Obviously, he’d been angry I hadn’t called him. But now that I had a good excuse, he relaxed a little. Of course, I probably wouldn’t have called him anyway.

“I’m going to make spaghetti with meat sauce. Nothing fancy.”

“Sounds great,” I said. Actually, the whole idea was pissing me off. I kept that to myself, though, since if I said anything, he’d ask me why it pissed me off. I didn’t know, and I didn’t much care to figure it out.

On my counter, Brian laid out a large can of sauce imported from Italy, a box of thin spaghetti, a triangle of Parmesan cheese, fresh vegetables, a half-pound of ground sirloin, a loaf of Italian bread, and a jug of red wine. “I went to Treasure Island.” The meal was going to be a lot fancier than anything I made myself. I’d only been in Treasure Island once. I didn’t recognize half the things they sold, so I left.

I sat down at the table and lit a cigarette. I watched as Brian opened the bottle of wine and poured me a glass. He sliced up an onion and a green pepper. Without asking, he dug around my cupboards until he found a frying pan. After glancing at it, he put it in the sink and re-washed it.

While he did this, he talked about his mother. She’d died of cancer a few weeks before. The recipe was hers; he hoped it came out as good as it did when she made it.

He was a good-looking kid. He was twenty-one, about five seven, dirty blond with blue eyes and a broad, toothy smile he hadn’t had much opportunity to use around me. As he walked back and forth in the small kitchen, I couldn’t help but watch his ass. It filled out his jeans in an impressive way. I wished I could like him more than I did.

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His falling for me was understandable, I guess. I’d saved his life. That brings up a lot of feelings, feelings he mistook for love. I wasn’t in love with him. But if I had to, I’d save his life again.

Not that it counts for much when a guy looks at you like you’re his future.

I was starting a second glass of wine when the doorbell rang. I walked down the hall to the living room, though the junk room and down another hall until I got to the front. I opened the door and there was Ross shivering in my wool coat. The promised rain had started and it looked like it was coming down cold.

“I want to know what you found out,” Ross said.

“When are you going to give me back my coat?” I asked.

“Never.”

I fake-frowned at him and said, “Come on in.”

He stomped his wet shoes by the door, and I told him to go ahead and take them off. Quickly, he stepped out of them and then peeled off my coat. Underneath he wore a pair of Calvin Klein jeans and a thermal T-shirt that had been dyed lime green. He grabbed me and kissed me, hard with a lot of tongue. I kissed him back and then broke away.

“Brian’s here. He’s making dinner.”

“Oh, you want me to go?”

“No. Stick around.”

I led Ross into the kitchen and introduced him to Brian. Brian gave Ross a firm handshake.

“There’s enough food for Ross to stay for dinner, isn’t there?”

When Brian hesitated, Ross stepped in and said, “I don’t have to stay, it’s okay.”

“Don’t be silly,” I said. I turned to Brian and said, “He just lost his job. He could use a free meal.”

“Sure, there’s plenty,” Brian said.

“Davey said my job would be there when they reopen.”

“Which isn’t going to happen for at least six months,” I pointed out.

“They might need an extra waiter at the French Bakery.” Brian worked at a restaurant in the Loop. Although why he was still there, I didn’t understand. I didn’t know exactly how much money he’d just inherited, but it was enough that his stepfather had tried to kill him. He obviously didn’t need to work as a waiter.

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I poured Ross a glass of wine and refilled Brian’s glass. Brian kept cooking while I caught Ross up on the day’s events. When I started talking about Jimmy English, Brian interrupted and asked,

“You really had a meeting with a mafia guy?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Were you scared?”

“No,” I lied.

The look Brian gave me made me glad I wasn’t going to fall in love with him. He was the kind of guy who’d eventually ask me to stop doing what I do, and I’d have to tell him no.

“So, it’s definitely not The Outfit,” said Ross.

I shook my head.

“We need to talk to John Bradford,” Ross said. I could tell he was getting into this. Too into it.

“He the guy on the flyer?” I asked.

“Yeah,” said Ross. “There’s no telling how many crazies he’s got in his group.”

“It’s a possibility,” I said. “When’s their meeting?”

“Tomorrow night.”

Maybe I should go, I wondered. Then I said, “Mostly I need to talk to Bernie, see if he heard or saw anything.”

We wondered how bad Bernie’s injuries might actually be. Worried about how well Davey was going to recover from this, and then dinner was ready. The three of us squeezed around my tiny kitchen table and ate. The radiator on the ceiling popped on, and between that and the wine the atmosphere was warm and homey. Brian had done a good job. The meal was perfect. Whether it was the food or the wine, his mood brightened and he got friendlier. Even to the point that he started to laugh whenever Ross made a joke.

After we were finished, I got an idea about how I wanted the rest of the evening to go. I went into the bathroom and shut the door. Reaching under the sink, I felt around until I found a paper packet I’d taped up underneath. I pulled it off the cast iron sink and unfolded it. Inside were three Quaaludes.

I walked back to the kitchen and set a pill in front of each of us. “Dessert,” I said.

“What is it?” Brian asked.

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“It’s a 'lude.”

“Sex is great on 'ludes,” Ross added. The implications were clear. Brian looked at me and then at Ross. He frowned a little, but he picked up the round white pill, swallowing it with a gulp of his wine. Ross and I followed suit.

We sipped wine for a few more minutes without saying much, then I stood up and said, “Follow me, boys.” I led them into my bedroom. I didn’t have much in there except a mattress on the floor and an old, beat-up bureau.

Standing near the mattress, I pulled them both toward me. I kissed Brian while I ran my hand over Ross’s back. Then I kissed Ross. When I leaned back from the kiss, I waited for them to kiss each other. Brian was tentative, but Ross knew what he wanted.

Ross dipped his tongue into Brian’s mouth while I slipped my hand down the back of Brian’s pants. He moaned and I relaxed. I’d been afraid that Brian was just doing this because I wanted it. That he might not even enjoy it. But his moan made his feelings clear.

If I had any doubts about the threesome, they disappeared as the Quaalude kicked in. It seemed the most natural thing in the world. The kind of thing that should happen every time three guys had dinner. In fact, if more people had group sex the world would be a better place. Maybe there’d be less war and stuff. Okay, I knew I was high when that thought popped into my head.

Brian’s hands roamed Ross’s body. Ross went to the Y six times a week. He was proud of his arms. Brian seemed to enjoy his large, well-defined biceps. I undid the front of Brian’s pants.

Reaching in, I grabbed his thick, uncut cock. He was half-hard and growing in my hand. Ross liked a little dirty talk. It wasn’t really my thing, but I always tried to oblige him, so I leaned over and whispered into Ross’ ear, “Feel his cock. It’s already getting hard.”

Ross’ hand joined mine, pulling on Brian’s dick. He said, “Oh, my God,” and looked down. “I love foreskin.” Ross dropped to his knees and began to nibble on Brian’s extra skin. “I love your cock,” he murmured between mouthfuls.

I looked at Brian, his blue eyes searching mine. Leaning over, I kissed him long and deep. He put his hands around my neck and pulled me close. I felt Ross opening my jeans and pulling my dick out. I looked down and watched as he sucked on me for a few moments, then switched back to Brian. Holding both cocks by the base, Ross enthusiastically sucked one, then the other.

I liked the show, but decided to recast the players. I lifted Ross to a standing position. Kissing him, I undid his jeans and pulled out his cock. It was long, thin, and freckled around the base. I started jerking it. Placing a hand on Brian’s shoulder, I eased him down. I guided Ross’ dick into his mouth. Brian closed his eyes and took Ross in deep. He moaned a bit as he did so.

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I kissed Ross, then pulled his shirt over his head. With one hand, I guided Brian over to suck my cock. I reached down and jerked Ross while I closed my eyes and concentrated on the velvet sensation of Brian’s mouth.

Brian moved back and forth between Ross and me, sucking my dick, then Ross’. Back and forth until I guided Brian back to a standing position, then pushed him down onto the mattress. I stepped out of my jeans. Brian pulled the rest of his clothes off. I crawled onto the mattress and lifted his cock until it was standing straight up in the air. I ran my tongue up and down the shaft, then Ross joined me and we were on either side of Brian’s prick, our lips meeting occasionally in a glancing kiss.

Brian took Ross and me by the hair and pressed our faces together. We kissed, deeply, passionately. I liked thinking that Brian was watching, getting excited by our kiss. Then Brian rolled over and raised his ass in the air. I got up off the mattress and opened the top drawer of the dresser. I fished around until I found a jar of Vaseline.

Getting back on the bed, I greased up Brian’s ass, dipping a finger into him just to hear him moan. I lubed up Ross’ prick and led him over to Brian’s ass. Ross pushed in slowly. “Oh yeah, it’s tight. It’s really tight.”

Placing his hands on Brian’s hips, Ross began pulling the boy back onto his prick, skewering him over and over again. I made my way to the other side of the mattress. Brian grabbed at my cock and pulled it into his mouth.

Every time Ross thrust into him, Brian took my cock deeper into his mouth. I slipped a hand behind Brian’s head and held him down tight on my dick. I looked into Ross’ dark eyes. He picked up his pace and pounded Brian faster and harder. Then his face crinkled in on itself, and I could tell he was coming deep inside Brian.

Brian pulled off my dick and looked over my shoulder as Ross gave him a few last pumps. Then Brian flipped himself over and offered his ass to me. “Fuck me,” he demanded in the harshest voice I’d ever heard him use. “Come on, fuck me.”

Seconds later I was inside of him.

“Yeah. Hard. Fuck me hard.”

I pounded into him as viciously as I could, and he asked for more again and again. With one hand he jacked himself off. His strokes were fast and angry, his fist pounding down again and again. Ross tried to kiss him, but my fucking him kept him bouncing around on the bed.

Then I was coming. The spunk ripped out of me, leaving a trail of pleasure and pain as it splashed into Brian’s ass. I kept pounding Brian a few more times until he exploded in wads of come.

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Ross and I flopped onto the bed next to Brian. None of us moved. As the sex faded, the Quaaludes kicked in, and we drifted off to sleep without even wiping ourselves off.

A few hours later, I woke up. Brian sat on the edge of the bed putting on his socks. I sat up next to him. “Sneaking off without a goodbye?”

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You had fun, didn’t you?”

“It’s not always about having fun. Sometimes it’s about more than that.”

I didn’t know what to say. He wanted more from me. I didn’t offer it.

“You don’t really care one way or the other, do you?”

“Life is easier that way,” I said honestly.

He called me an asshole and left. I didn’t think he’d be coming back. I felt relieved and sad and happy that I’d only damaged him a tiny, tiny bit. I didn’t especially like being called an asshole, but I figured it was the better way to be. I could have been nicer to Brian, told him some of the things he wanted to hear, lied to him to be polite. Let him down easy, as they say. But the one who’d feel better would be me.

If I’d set this up so Brian walked away thinking I was a great guy, then he’d spend his time trying to figure out how to get me back, or worse, wondering what was wrong with him that a great guy like me didn’t fall in love with him. Not that I thought being an asshole did him any favors, it just hurt less in the long run.