What Happens in Vegas?

Chapter 3

Ed spent an hour and a half wandering through the Vegas streets. The early evening crowds weren't out of control, but with each passing moment, he could feel the energy shift like an incoming drunken tide. He passed his first vomiting bachelorette at about nine. It was then he decided to hop an Uber to the slightly off-strip casino where he was meeting Travis.

Ellis Island was a small casino that seemed dodgy from the street, but the modest casino floor had a chill, energetic vibe that was a nice contrast from the strip. The casino floor itself was encircled by restaurants with prices that felt like a bargain compared to the $14 Coors Lites he'd seen so far.

He sat at at the bar of a pub with an open-air roof and nursed a microbrew IPA. The far wall was dominated by a floor-to-ceiling screen showing a football game. The pub had a chill atmosphere that felt more like a neighbourhood pub than a tourist joint. Which is probably why Travis, a Vegas native, had suggested it,

Eventually, he got a text with a room number. Ed paid his bill and made for the elevators. Normally, when he met someone for a hookup, he donned a persona. He wasn't Ed, the art director and not-so-secret nerd. Instead, he was someone altogether more mysterious - someone who could hold his own in a fight, someone who oozed sex and confidence. He became a man with a swagger in his step who was prepared to both give and receive pleasure.

There was a thrill in that - in becoming another person for a night. But Ed didn't want to be someone else - he wanted to be himself. And with one person in particular.

But that was not in the cards.

So instead of a mysterious, swaggering, smoldering persona designed to be someone's fantasy, Travis got the real Ed.

"Hi," said Travis as he held open the door. "C'mon in. I just got out of the shower."

Ed stepped into the very modest, but clean hotel room. It made him appreciate just how luxe their Mandalay Bay suite was in comparison. "Hey. Good show tonight?"

Travis shrugged and scruffed up his damp hair. "It was all right. No one got too handsy. No one puked. In my world, that's a good night."

Ed stood with his hands in the pockets of his shorts. He hadn't even polished himself up. That would have drawn suspicion from Stede, and he wasn't in the mood to impress.

He let himself take a look at his companion for the evening. Travis wasn't a kid. If he had been in his twenties, he wouldn't have accepted the invitation. In fact, the more Ed looked at him, the more he suspected he was in his early thirties, at least.

And clearly worked out. A lot. Even through his plain gray t-shirt, Ed could see the lines of his sculpted body.

Travis shifted closer and slid his hands along Ed's collar. "I don't usually pick up guys on the street. I can't actually remember the last time I had a hook-up where I talked to the guy in person first."

"Fuck," muttered Ed, "Me neither. Wasn't too long ago that was the only way to do it."

"Maybe you shouldn't remind the younger guy you're hooking up with how old you are," drawled Travis as he shifted closer.

"Don't pretend my age isn't why you gave me your fuckin' number, kid," Ed rumbled. He grinned and reached out to grab the side of Travis' hips.

"Oh yes, daddy," Travis deadpanned.

Both men laughed. The whole exchange felt ridiculous rather than sexy. It helped break the ice.

Travis kissed him. His lips were pillowy and soft and he smelled fresh from the shower. He pulled back just long enough to duck out of his shirt, then he re-initiated contact and kissed Ed again.