What do you do when a teenage movie star makes it seem as if you've kidnapped him? After working two summers at his father's health club as a towel boy, Peter Fisk saved enough money to visit California. He literally runs into Lance Hardwood in his...
I was speechless. I'd never really had a drink with friends. I am 18, after all. And those lite rum and cokes were only half portions – lite on rum and mostly coke. And here I was in a room with one bed and two hot guys, both of whom I freely admit having fantasized about, and they were already in their underwear, waiting for me to join them in a toast.
If Scarlet had been there, she'd have slapped me up the side of my head and probably would have picked me up and dropped me into their laps. This, however, is a scenario I never would have planned for.
I was a virgin by choice. It had to be the right guy. It had to be the right mood, the right setting – a perfect setup for a perfect memory. (I bet you rolled your eyeballs at that one. Don't deny it, I heard them.) Most of the time, I'm aromantic. High school friends also thought I was asexual. I wasn't. I was, and still am, horny AF most of the time. I'm just...picky, that's all.
There go your eyes again. I am capable of learning, and of admitting when you're wrong. I mean, when I'm wrong. Which is less often than most people. I'm stalling, aren't I?
I stood there, shirtless. And I was painfully hard. I made some excuse about being cold, holding my shirt in front of – you know – and Derek walked over to the thermostat and turned it way up. He got behind me and pushed me onto the bed. Lance handed me a glass. Derek sat, one ball hanging out of his jock, and raised his shot glass.
"To new friends! Through thick or thin, cut or uncut, long or short we'll always nut!" He drained his glass.
"Here, here!" Lance cheered and drained his glass.,
"Uh, To new friends, Huzzah!" And I downed my glass. Surprisingly, it tasted smooth, like coffee and chocolate.
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"No way. 'Huzzah'? Dude, who says 'Huzzah' these days?" Derek roared, and then his eyes went wide. "Look, you've nothing to be ashamed about." And he then proceeded to fondle himself. In less than 30 seconds, his stood at attention. "We all get 'em. I've got one. Look, your boyfriend's got one too now."
I started to tear up. Lance just sort of hung back, saying, "Pete, what's going on, man?" Thank goodness for Derek, who just reached over and hugged me - didn't say anything more and held me until I composed myself. He let me go.
"You let me know, Pete, if anything I say or do makes you uncomfortable. You're a virgin, I get it. So is Lance. You just have more...boundaries. That's okay, and I respect you for that."
I kissed him gently on his cheek. "He isn't my boyfriend. We've kissed, yeah. Twice. Everybody keeps shipping us. I mean, Lance drives me crazy! Sometimes I wanna strangle him. Sometimes I want to sink into him, to..."
"Hey. Hey, I'm right here, boner and all, you dickhead!" Lance laughed.
I looked at him, head on. "...to make him realize that Lance Harwood is far more interesting and wonderful to me than any character he could ever play! And I'd like very much to be his boyfriend." There, I'd thought. Cards on the table and nothing to lose except my mind, or my dignity. Or my heart. I was shaking on the inside.
"Pete..." Lance choked as he said my name. It was the way he'd said it that took me by surprise. "Pete, you jumped off a fucking roof and fell thirty stories for me. For me! Nobody else has ever done anything like that for me!"
"Uh, hello!" Derek tweaked Lance's hardon.
"Ow! Derek, what the fuck?"
"Remember me? The one who held you all the way down those 33 floors? Don't I count?" The muscled ex-Marine was actually pouting. Lance looked at me, and I nodded.
Lance planted a big wet kiss on Derek's lips. "And we're both going to thank you, in so many, many ways. Before that, though, there's something I need to say." He turned to me, and time just stopped. I heard the chaotic beating of my heart. It hit me then. I realized it had been no wonder that love hadn't come to me before now. Love is chaos. It underlies everything. It upsets reason, it crashes through plans; it's a roller coaster ride that lays down its tracks as it's moving forward.
"Peter Fisk, will you be my boyfriend? Please?"
"Hell, yes!" I shouted. I'm told that I yanked off my briefs and T-Shirt and danced around the room, naked as a jaybird. Which led to more whiskey shots and crescendo'ed in an impromptu circle jerk. As the three of us laid on the bed, drained and exhausted, Lance asked Derek a question that threw him.
"So, my big and loaded bud, tell us about Luke Stoneridge."
Derek grabbed the bottle of Rough Rider and poured the rest into our glasses. "To Luke, the son of a bitch Devil Dawg who loved me and left me, through no fault of his own."
"To Luke," we echoed him.
Derek laid back, locked his hands underneath his neck and rested his head on his massive biceps. "Luke was this hayseed from Kansas, farm boy cute and horny as a two-dicked bull. But the best thing about Luke wasn't physical. He was smart as hell. Computer science, cutting-edge stuff. We met in boot camp, and we just fit together perfectly, you know? Kinda like you two."
"We both graduated boot with honors, 'cept mine were physical – rescue ops for me, advanced computer studies for him."
"What sort of advanced studies?" I'd asked, but his answer was vague.
"He couldn't talk about them. Classified shit, you know? He got shipped overseas to Ukraine, and I was sent to South America. I received a letter from Luke's dad six months ago, informing me that Luke was tortured and killed in his lab by the Russians."
Black Thunder leaned into me and wept. I held him close, and Lance got up and spooned him from the other side.
"Once our tours of duty were over, we'd planned to buy his family's farm and raise a bunch of adopted kids. We've...I've still got a downpayment on the farm, but I haven't had the heart to ask for it back. The corps was a huge part of my life, but only 'cause Luke was there. Your car's AI sounds just like Luke. They sent his body home for burial. But it was a closed casket funeral. Said his face had gotten messed up. I wonder sometimes..."
Lance traced his fingers around Derek's spine. "Wonder what?"
"Nah, dude. Wishful thinking. He'd have liked you guys. Especially these," he chuckled, grabbing us at the root. So, there was another round of that before sleep claimed us. That night I didn't just lose my virginity - I shoved it into a rocket ship and sent it into outer space.
