Flowers in a Dumpster (6 page)

While Jason debated the best way to snag a man, he himself got snagged.

He was older, mid-forties at least, with a receding hairline and a paunch that poked out the front of his shirt. His eyes were bleary with drink and his smile somewhat predatory. Although there were several empty stools nearby, he took the one right next to Jason, leaning close until their thighs rubbed together.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” the man said, his words only slightly slurred.

Jason forced a smile. “This is my first time.”

“Oh! A virgin, how delightful.”

A blush spread up from Jason’s collar and swallowed his entire face. He stared down at his drink and began peeling the label away from the bottle. “So, you come here a lot?”

“Every weekend,” the man said, leaning even closer so that his alcohol-laced breath washed over Jason’s face. “Some weeknights, too. I guess you could say I’m always on the prowl.”

Sweat trickled down the sides of Jason’s face and his hands shook, causing the beer bottle to tap a staccato against the bar.

“It’s okay, son.” The man placed a hand high on Jason’s thigh and squeezed firmly. “No need to be nervous. I ain’t gonna bite ya. Might
nibble
you a bit, but only if you ask me to.”

The man quested higher, closer to the crotch, and Jason felt his body respond. He fought to hold back the tears that threatened, managing another forced smile. The smile turned into a gasp of surprise and pleasure when the man’s fingers brushed the bulge between his legs, briefly stroking the hardness there before moving back down the thigh.

“So little virgin, what brings you out to Liaisons tonight?”

Jason took a fortifying drink of beer and said, “Looking for somebody.”

“That so? Anybody in particular?”

Jason met the man’s eyes with a boldness he didn’t really feel. “You.”

The man’s smile widened, becoming grotesque, almost as if his face were splitting in two. “Looks like it’s my lucky night. You wanna dance?”

“I’d rather just go back to my place and fuck,” Jason said, afraid he was being too forward.

His fear was unfounded. The man laughed and said, “Gotta love a man who cuts right through all the bullshit. By the way, I’m—”

“No names,” Jason said abruptly. It would be so much more difficult if he knew the man’s name. “I don’t want to exchange names.”

“Cool with me. I understand the need to be discreet; nobody knows about me either.”

Jason nodded and fumbled some bills out of his wallet to pay for his drink, but the man waved his hand and said, “I got it.”

After the man paid for their drinks, they went out to the gravel parking lot. Jason’s car was near the back of the lot, but the man stopped at a pickup two rows from the club. “I’ll follow you back to your place.”

“Why don’t I drive you over?” Jason asked. Since the man would never leave Jason’s apartment, he didn’t want the truck parked in front of the building. “You look like you may have had a bit more to drink than I have.”

“Friends don’t let friends drink and drive,” the man said and laughed loudly. “You sure you won’t mind driving me back to my truck after?”

“Not at all.” Jason led the man toward his car and opened the passenger’s side door for him. As he crossed to the driver’s side, hand on the door handle, he knew this was his last chance to turn back.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, got inside the car, and crossed the point of no return.

***

Jason lived on Chestnut Street, in a rambling three-story house that had been converted into several apartments. Jason lived on the top story, accessible around back by a flight of thirty-five steps. By the time they reached the top, Jason’s companion was winded and a bit damp around the forehead.

“That’s quite a workout,” he said.

Jason fumbled his key into the lock. “Hope it didn’t wear you out.”

“Oh, I think I’m getting a second wind,” the man said, stepping up close and pressing his groin against Jason’s backside. Jason could feel the erection poking at him. For just a moment he leaned back into it, before he quickly opened the door and led the man into the small kitchen.

The kitchen opened into the small living room, which opened into the small bedroom, which opened into the even smaller bathroom. Four rooms, running straight back from the rear of the house to the front. It wasn’t much, but neither was the rent. Sure, it was quite a climb up those stairs, and it had been a bitch hauling his thrift store furniture up here when he’d first moved in, but other than that the place was perfect for Jason.

Wasting no time on pleasantries, Jason led the man straight to the bedroom. He’d left a lamp burning there, and it beckoned to them. The closet door stood open, waiting.

Jason turned and suddenly the man was on him, tongue questing into Jason’s mouth, hand sliding up under his shirt to pinch his nipple. It was all Jason could do to push the man off him long enough to gasp, “Wait, slow down.”

“Slow down? I believe you’re the one who invited me back here to fuck.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just that . . . well, there’s something I want to show you.”

“There’s only one thing I’m interested in seeing,” the man said, tugging at Jason’s belt.

“No, wait, really. In the closet, I want you to see.”

The man paused in his efforts to de-pants Jason, glancing back toward the closet. “What you got in there? Toys?”

“Yeah, toys. Lots and lots of ‘em.”

“You think what I got won’t be enough?” the man asked, rubbing his own crotch. Jason could see the outline of the man’s erection through his pants, and it was indeed formidable.

“Nothing like that,” Jason stammered, forcing his eyes away from the man’s groin. “I just think you’ll like the stuff I got in there.”

“So the little virgin’s got a kinky side, huh? I like that. What kind of toys you got to show Daddy?”

“Take a look for yourself.”

With a smile that was part quizzical, part indulgent, the man turned and walked over to the closet. Squinting into the darkness, he said, “Can’t see shit in here.”

“There’s a light inside. Step in and pull the chain.”

The man walked slowly into the closet, reaching out blindly for the nonexistent chain. When he was over the threshold, Jason rushed forward to close the door. The man apparently heard Jason’s movement and turned, his smile replaced with a frown. He opened his mouth to say something as Jason slammed the door shut, leaning his body against it in case the man tried to get out.

Jason waited, expecting some kind of commotion, maybe a scream, but he heard nothing. At the very least, he expected the man to bang on the door, call to be let out, but there was only silence. Minutes ticked by on the wind-up clock next to Jason’s bed. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty minutes went by without so much as a sound.

Cautiously removing his weight from the door, steeling himself against the possibility of the man bursting out, Jason stepped back, unsure. Finally, half an hour after closing the man inside the closet, Jason gripped the doorknob in his hand, his sweaty palm almost sliding off the cold metal, and slowly opened the door. “Hello,” he said lamely as he peered inside.

The closet appeared to be empty. Of course, it was so dark in there he couldn’t be entirely sure. The man could have been standing in the back, behind the shirts, the shadows concealing him. Jason shuffled quickly to the switch and turned on the overhead light, enough brightness to illuminate the inside of the closet. The
empty
closet.

Jason stepped into the cramped space, unable to believe it. The man had disappeared like a magic trick. No trace of him left whatsoever. Of course, that was what Andros had told him would happen, but he’d expected
something
. A shred of clothing, a few hairs, or hangers knocked askew. But there was no evidence to suggest anything unusual happened here. It had been so quick and so quiet.

Jason stepped back into the bedroom, closing the closet door and leaving his fingers lingering on the wood for a few moments. He’d expected to feel guilt or shame for what he had done, but he was surprised to find he felt neither. It had been so
easy
. All he’d done was close the door behind the man. It was hard to feel guilty when he’d done so little. Still, the deed was done, and he was on his way to getting what he desired.

One down.

***

The second sacrifice wasn’t quite so simple.

Jason returned to Liaisons the following evening and found it nearly deserted on a Sunday night. Apparently homosexuals, like God, rested on the seventh day. Besides himself and the bartender, there were only five other men in the bar, two of them together. Jason took a seat at the bar, the same stool he’d occupied last night, and waited for one of the other men in the club to approach him.

None of them did.

The two that were together left shortly after Jason arrived and two of the others hooked up soon after, groping each other on the deserted dance floor. That left one other man standing over by the pool tables. Several times Jason caught the man staring at him in a way that suggested he was interested, but for whatever reason he did not approach Jason.

Maybe he’s waiting on me to make the first move
, Jason thought after forty-five minutes of waiting.

The only problem was that Jason didn’t know how to make the first move. Hell, he didn’t know how to make
any
move. In the movies, men in singles bars always offered to buy young ladies a drink. Would that work with two men? Or were there different rules that governed gay society?

After the couple from the dance floor staggered out of the club together, Jason figured he had to make his move. He stood up and strolled as nonchalantly as possible to the pool tables. When he stepped up to the man, Jason had a sudden inspiration and said, indicating the nearest pool table, “Wanna shoot a game?”

The man smiled in a way that was remarkably reminiscent of the man last night. “You wouldn’t be trying to get a look at my stick and balls, would you?”

“As a matter of fact . . . ” Jason said with a sigh, relieved to be back on familiar ground. He figured the rest of the encounter would follow much the same script as the previous evening.

“I’m just teasing,” the man said, reaching around for one of the pool cues. “I’d love a game.”

Jason stood frozen for a moment. He’d only been looking for an opening; he didn’t actually know how to play pool.

“You wanna set ‘em up?” the man asked.

Jason decided his best course of action would be to use the line with which he’d already had proven success. “I’d rather just go back to my place and fuck.”

“You certainly cut right to the chase, don’t you?” the man said, which was similar to what the man last night had said, although this one used a completely different tone.

“I just know what I want,” Jason replied, trying to appear confident.

“Yeah, me too.” The man returned the cue to the rack. “Have a good night.”

“What? You’re leaving?”

The man just nodded and pushed past.

“Wait a minute,” Jason said, reaching out and grabbing the man’s arm. “Are you going to tell me you didn’t come here looking for sex? I saw the way you were watching me.”

“Yeah, I thought you were hot, and maybe I was even hoping I would get laid tonight, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want a little conversation first. At least an exchange of names. A guy that opens with ‘Let’s fuck’ is too nasty for me. Who knows what kind of STDs you got floating around in your bloodstream?”

The man jerked his arm loose of Jason’s hold and left the club. Jason was too stunned to follow. He had assumed that one approach would work with most guys, but obviously he’d been wrong. And as he was the only one remaining in the club, that left him with no one to take back to Andros tonight.

As he headed for the exit, Jason reminded himself that he had a month to get twelve more men. It wasn’t like he had to get one every single night. This would give him time to strategize, mull over tonight’s failure and figure out how not to repeat it in the future. He would just have to–

“Hey, wait a minute sexy.”

Jason stopped and turned toward the bar. He had thought himself alone in the place, but of course that wasn’t true; there was the bartender. The man looked to be in his mid-thirties, a tight T-shirt showing off his muscular chest and arms, blonde hair a mess of curls atop his head. He was deeply tanned, which made the brightness of his smile stand out.

“I’m sorry, are you talking to me?” Jason asked, thinking he sounded like a sad imitation of Robert De Niro in that
Taxi Driver
movie.

The bartender leaned across the bar, beckoning Jason closer. “I wasn’t exactly eavesdropping or anything, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I just wanted to tell you that guy is a fool. If a hot little thing like you had asked me to fuck, I’d have been all over it in about two seconds.”

Jason was suddenly excited. Not in a sexual way . . . well, not
only
in a sexual way. Maybe his luck wasn’t out tonight, after all. “Would
you
like to go back to my place with me?”