Pornstar

Darrin spent a good thirty minutes talking to Sly and was surprised and grateful to find that he had such a friend all this time. He felt so much better that instead of calling Spencer, he thought he'd surprise him by stopping by. Maybe Sly was right. He should talk to people and get out more. And he'd start with Spencer. If he only turned out to be a fuck buddy, oh, well. At least it was human contact. He smoothed his hair down and knocked.

A strange man came to the door, his hair wet from a shower and a towel wrapped around his waist. "Can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm looking for Spencer."

The man smirked, striking a pose. "He's indisposed right now."

"What's that mean?"

"Darrin!" Spencer appeared behind the man, his hair disheveled and his lips swollen as if he'd been kissed several times. "I thought you were going to call."

"What, and miss the party?" Otto replied cynically.

"Darrin, please!"

"Forget it, Spence. Enjoy the rest of your life."

"Darrin!" Scot grabbed Spencer around the waist to prevent him from following Darrin but Spencer wrenched out of his grasp, running down the hallway. He caught Darrin at the elevator, pacing back and forth as he waited. "Darrin, please. Let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain, bro. You yourself said that you weren't looking for a relationship. No harm, no foul."

Spencer stood in the stony silence, chilled by Darrin's words. "But maybe I was wrong."

"Naw, you weren't wrong." The bell rang, announcing the elevator's arrival. "Thanks for saving me the heartache."

The doors closed and Spencer just stood there, staring at them, unable to move.

Why didn't he say no? Why didn't he just tell Scot to take a hike? And why did it matter so much to him?

The kiss.

You know that's why.

His kiss touched part of your cynical little heart. Gritting his teeth, he turned and marched back to his room, snarling at a grinning Scot. "Get the fuck out."

"What?"

"I said, get the fuck out and don't come back."

"Oh, Spencer. You're not serious, are you? Not after I just spent the last two hours fucking you so hard that your teeth clicked together. Not to mention how many times you came."

"GET. THE. FUCK. OUT!"

Scot yanked his pants on and grabbed his shirt, backing Spencer against the wall again. His searching hand fumbled under Spencer's robe to find his cock, giving it a squeeze. "Are you sure?"

Spencer gently pried his fingers off of him, slid aside and opened the door. "Don't ever contact me again."

The door shut quietly.

* * * * *

The blaring music was the first thing that brought Spencer's sleepy senses awake and he allowed himself to be ushered into the club, a laughing Mickie pushing him from behind.

"Come on, Spence! Wake the fuck up!"

He'd had too many cocktails at the reunion party and he wasn't really up to this now. He had been an hour ago, when the excitement of seeing old friends and rubbing his success in their faces had fired his veins. Now, with Mickie Mathews, the world was rapidly dulling, the edges rounding and spilling over, punctuated by her laughter. "I think I ought to go home, Mickie."

"No fucking way!" She maneuvered him toward an empty table and beckoned a waiter over to take their orders. "I didn't just pay fifty bucks to get into the NightClub School for nothing."

"I'll pay you back. Just take me home."

"Nope. Here. Drink this." She shoved a glass into his hand and pushed a pill into his mouth. "Swallow this. It'll perk you up."

Spencer did as she said and drank most of the drink, waiting for the pill to work. And work it did. Within minutes, new energy was coursing through him and he came to life with slightly blurred eyesight, slurred words and a wicked high that left him floating inches off the floor. "Thanks. I needed that."

"I bet you did." Mickie winked, her eyes roaming across the sea of half-naked bodies, smiling as the heavens opened up and chunks of foam came cascading down. "I'm going to dance. Join me?"

"In a minute." He sat back, giving her a saucy grin as she doffed her shirt and went running into the soapy mess. Within minutes, she was embraced by another half-naked woman and was French-kissing her seconds later. Spencer threw his head back and laughed. Mickie was such a free spirit. It was hard to believe that Darrin was her brother. Passionate and reserved.

Yes.

That kiss. He could still feel Darrin's lips on his, strong fingers in his hair. Why was it that he couldn't get a simple kiss out of his mind? Why did it make his cock harden to granite-like proportions? And worst of all, why did he suddenly wish that he'd never met Scot Sampson?

The music changed, slowing to a deep throb and a plethora of multi-colored bubbles began to drift around the dance floor, just as he appeared. A well-muscled man wearing a Batman-like mask stepped onto a raised platform, high above the dancers and a collective sigh of awe swept the floor as he ripped his shirt off, revealing a chiseled chest. God, was he hot! The dancer began to gyrate to the music, his oiled torso twisting and undulating to the music while his hips ground against an invisible lover.

A crowd collected below the elevated stage, encouraging him with shouts as he pulled the zipper down on his frayed blue jeans and shoved his hand inside. When he threw his head back, the cowboy hat slid off, revealing spiked blond hair and Spencer gasped.

Darrin?

He moved slowly, clearly enjoying the hand job he was giving himself, his features displaying the wanton enjoyment. The denim jeans were the next to go, sliding down around his ankles and remaining there when he turned his back to the audience, displaying his taut ass.

Spencer glanced down, finding Mickie who was hollering in concert with the others, then returned his gaze upon the stage, watching him kick the pants away, then turn, displaying a sizable lump in the shiny thong. "TAKE IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF!" He ignored the crowd's chant, opting to continue to please himself, alternately drawing his hands across his nipples, then down over his erect cock. Spencer felt himself hypnotized by the dancer's movements, his fresh drink untouched as the man moved to the beat. "TAKE IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF!"

He did. The thong came down and a long, thick cock sprang into the floodlight. The music disappeared behind a raucous cheer, gaining volume as he resumed his dance, his prick bobbing deliciously between his thick thighs. Spencer forgot to breathe when he turned to the stanchion, treating it like a partner and pumping it slow, then fast, then deep. The song ended and the lights silhouetted him just as ropes of cum shot out, arcing and landing at the base of the pole.

The floodlight was extinguished and the crowd roared. Spencer sat mesmerized, his own cock throbbing in response. It was Darrin. It had to be. And he had to find him and apologize.

* * * * *

"Thanks, Alfie. See you Tuesday."

Darrin pocketed the money, pulled his hood on and slipped out the back entrance, happy that dance had gone well and that it was over. Alf was usually good about these things, allowing Darrin to retain his anonymity while earning a bit of side scratch and the bouncers always kept the back entrance clear of overzealous 'fans'. It was for that singular boon that he always came back to Alf's; that and the fact that Alf always paid under the table in cash.

"Hi, Darrin." Darrin whirled around to see Spencer emerging from the shadows and proceeded to continue to walk to his car. "Darrin, please let me explain."

"I told you that there was nothing to explain. Now if you'll excuse me ... "

"No. I don't want to excuse you. I don't want to excuse me, either." Spencer walked closer to Darrin, flashes of his performance cascading through his mind. "I was a bad boy and I want you to punish me."

"What?"

It took a few minutes to tell Darrin about his storied past with Sampson. "So you see, I need to be punished."

"There's a whole club full of people that would enjoy fulfilling that dream."

"I don't want them." He moved even closer, his senses tingling at the combined scent of sweat and musk that Darrin's body exuded. "I want you."

Darrin looked down into Spencer's eyes. "A lot of people want me." He closed the car door and backed the slightly shorter man up against the side of the car, using his size and charisma to intimidate him. "What makes you think you qualify?"

"This." Spencer was surprised himself when he grabbed Darrin's head and brought his lips down to his. His mouth opened quickly, Darrin's tongue commanding control as it curled around Spencer's. Spencer's fingers moved through Darrin's spiky hair and down his neck to his broad shoulders, spreading out across the thick muscles. His entire body shook with want as one of Darrin's hands cupped the back of his head while the other snaked around to the small of his back and brought their bodies closer, hips grinding together.

When Darrin broke the kiss, he just stood there, staring at Spencer and wondering why the hell his insides were twisted up from just one kiss. It was just a kiss, wasn't it?

"Spencer ... "

"Please, Darrin." Spencer whispered against his mouth. "Take me home and fuck the living daylights out of me. Use me, spank me, abuse me but please, take me home with you. I don't think I can stand another minute without having you inside me."

Darrin took his mouth again, pushing his tongue in and grinding against Spencer until the man moaned into his mouth. "It would be so easy to take you, Spencer." Otto stepped back, releasing the confused younger man. "But

you'll

have to work for it."

Darrin slid into his car and gunned the engine, making the tires slide in the gravel and left a drunken Spencer in his dust.

* * * * *

Getting angry at Spencer did nothing to clear Darrin's head; in fact, it made things worse. He should have taken Spencer to bed, shouldn't he? After all, Spencer wasn't interested in getting involved and it would be just sex ... wouldn't it? Darrin pounded his fist on the steering wheel, hating himself for getting emotional. Otto would never do this. Otto would have gladly fucked Spencer in the parking lot. And left with a smirk. But not Darrin. No, Darrin's heart was tied to his prick. He couldn't fuck anyone without wanting a relationship.

God, I'm so lonely.

He hadn't realized where he was until he came to. On automatic pilot, he had driven himself to the bridge and got out of his car, once again drawn to the rhythmic lullaby of the water. He had promised Sly but it was so near. So easy. The pain could be gone. The loneliness could be gone. And most importantly, Otto could be gone.

Darrin gripped the rail and threw a leg over, awkwardly balancing as he tugged his other leg over. The night was cool and clear and he smiled through his tears, happy to know that the stars would be a witness to his death. He had always loved the stars when he was a boy. He was always convinced that when people died, they became stars. Perhaps he would become one, too.

Goodbye, Mickie

. Of all people, she would understand his suicide. She had been supportive of him all these years and would understand. He left the outer railing and stepped over onto the girder, swaying with the force of the wind.

Just a few steps more ...

Spencer appeared in this thoughts, his easy smile warm and the touch of his lips ... so soft, so gentle and the look in his eyes tonight.

No, don't think about it.

There was no turning back now.

His eyes blurred with tears, Darrin took a deep breath and stepped off the girder... into nothing.