08

Part 7. Snowed-In...And Hotter Than Ever!: Jason's perspective

When John and I arrived at the airport in Denver, the first flakes were starting to fall. We were in town to represent our agency at the annual PST Client Conference at their headquarters. I'd been drafted to attend the conference with John. And, had this been a few months ago, I would've been pumped to be away from work alone with him for a whole week. But, as our relationship at work had deteriorated to barely on speaking terms, I was dreading every minute of this week.

On the plane, it was easy to avoid making silly small talk. John and I weren't seated near each other. But now, sharing a cab on the way to the hotel, we sat in awkward silence. I don't think we spoke to each other once. Not getting out of the cab to go into the hotel. Not checking in at the front desk. Not even in the elevator on our way up to our rooms. Finally, mercifully, the silence was broken in the hallway as we said a curt "see you later!" to each other. It turned out we'd booked rooms adjacent - but not adjoining - to each other.

Five minutes later, I was laying on the bed in my room, wondering how I was going to make it through this week being here with John. It's true that I was still pissed as hell at him for how he'd been treating me at work. But, I'd be lying if I said that I didn't fantasize about him turning toward me after the elevator doors closed and pulling into a breathtaking kiss. I was still hot as hell for him...and it irritated the shit out of me! Why wasn't his "asshole behavior" a turn-off for me?

At least I had the night and part of the next day to get myself together. We'd arrived in Denver the day before the conference was due to start at 4:00pm local time the next day. I flipped on the TV and plopped back down on the bed to waste my time watching reruns. I must've fallen asleep, because I awoke - how long I'd been out, I wasn't sure - to knocking on the door. I got up, stumbled my way to the door and looked through the peephole. When I saw that it was John, I mouthed to myself, "Dear God. What now?!" and then plastered a fake smile on my face to open the door.

Moments later, we were standing in my room. "I just got an e-mail from Jeff with PST," John said to me as I tried to resist the urge to not only punch him in the face, but drop to my knees and yank his jeans down. "The snow's really piling up out there. The forecast is saying Denver could get more than 2 feet. PST has canceled all conference activities for tomorrow. Jeff said they're going to play it by ear for the rest of the conference."

"So, what if we get the amount of snow they're predicting...or more? Does Jeff think the whole conference will be canceled?"

"He didn't say. But most of the conference attendees are either staying at this hotel or ones nearby. It's a 20 minute drive to PST headquarters. If they can't get the roads cleared, it may turn out that we traveled all this way for nothing!"

"Just great!" I thought to myself. "Snowed-in with a man that I both loathe (at the moment) and desire."

"So..." John continued. "I just ordered a couple pizzas. There aren't many restaurants nearby and the room service rates are outrageous. I figured I might as well get dinner delivered before the roads get really bad. Maybe we could have a couple pieces each and then ration the rest for the rest of the week, if we get snowed in. Does that sound okay to you?"

"Sure!" Even though we hadn't been on good terms before leaving for Denver, it was nice of John to include me in his dinner plans.

"Great!" he smiled at me. "I'll ring your room phone when it arrives. We can eat in my room." I could swear he winked at me before turning to leave. I closed the door behind him, then turned, leaned back against it, exhaled, and tried to keep my dick from hardening in

Twenty minutes later, I was standing in the hallway as John opened the door to his hotel room. When he saw me, he smiled, stepped aside, and gestured for me to come in. "Come and get it while it's hot!"

As I walked past him into the room, I had to stifle a laugh. But, I couldn't resist replying with a playful, "Well, I DO like it hot..." When I saw the grin on his face, some of the awkwardness and tension I'd been feeling melted away.

As we sat at the small table in his room, eating our pizza, John looked at me thoughtfully. Finally, he spit out what was on his mind. "Jason, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." I was nervous about where this conversation was going to go.

"We've gotten along ever since I started at Glenmont...for the past several years, right up until about two months ago. I thought we had a pretty good office friendship going. What went wrong?"

I tried to hide how dumbfounded I was at his question. It was just like someone who gets into a car accident while texting and driving, and then whines that they're a perfect driver and they can't understand how they got into a car accident. I was about to give him some sort of bullshit answer when I changed my mind. If we were going to be stranded in this hotel for a day and a half - at the least - then maybe it was time for he and I to finally clear the air between us. I decided to give him my honest opinion. "You want me to be honest with you?"

John looked at me and I could see the anxiety in his eyes. But, trying to sound as confident as possible, he said, "Of course I do!" I could tell he didn't REALLY want me to be honest. What he wanted me to say was that everything between us was fine and I'd just been grumpy and in a bad mood for the past few months.

Instead, I told him how I really felt. "Oh, I don't know..." I ventured. "Who really knows why these things happen? Sometimes people drift apart and friendships change. Or, it gets busy at work and people don't have time to be as friendly as they'd like to be. Or, maybe it's that you've been acting like an asshole toward me for the past couple months."

I saw anger flash across his face...the same kind of anger that had been in his eyes when we'd had our two skirmishes recently. This time, the anger quickly faded. He looked down at the table and then back up into my eyes. "You really think I've been acting THAT badly?"

"Well, let's see... You went and told Pam that you thought I was attacking you and disrespecting you instead of calming down and talking to me about it. And then, you came down to my office and treated me pretty horribly over that coverage issue for Stacy's after-hours appointment when I wasn't even involved in what was happening...topped off by you mocking my confusion as to why you were standing in my office doorway acting 'all Rambo' toward me. If that isn't asshole behavior, I don't know what is."

"I didn't mean..."

I interrupted him. I didn't want to hear him make excuses. "It's okay. You don't need to explain. But I DO have a question for you."

"Okay. Shoot!" He grinned and added, "But be gentle. I'm not wearing a bulletproof vest."

It's moments like this that made me hot for John aside from how handsome he was...his self-deprecating sense of humor. "What changed between us? I've been trying to figure out if I did something to make you start acting weird toward me and I'm coming up empty. Did I do something to you?"

He looked at me for a few seconds without saying anything. I couldn't read what was going on in his mind. "Are you done with your pizza?"

Okay, so that was a sudden left turn in the conversation. "Uh...yeah."

He got up out of his chair, took our paper plates, and threw them in the trash can. "You wanna go downstairs to the hotel bar and grab a drink?"

"Sure. But, are you going to answer my question?"

"I will. But I'm in the mood for some bourbon. Let's hit the bar and we'll pick this conversation back up."

Downstairs, I could see out the lobby doors that the snow was coming down pretty hard now. It looked like there was already six inches on the ground and the forecast was for snow to continue until around this time tomorrow. For a hotel full of people in town for a conference, the bar was fairly empty. As the bartender started to approach John and I, he placed his hand on my shoulder. "I need to use the restroom. Could you order a glass of bourbon for me?"

"Okay."

As he walked away, he turned back. "Order one for you too."

When I turned around, the bartender was standing behind me. "So two bourbons, then?"

"No. Just one. Could you pour something for me that LOOKS like bourbon? Coke, apple juice, or something?"

The bartender smirked at me. "Planning on getting him sloppy drunk?"

I laughed. "No. I'm not a drinker. I don't want him to know, though."

"All right. I'll see what I can do."

When John returned, there was a glass of bourbon waiting for him and a glass of Coke in front of me. "Thanks!" He immediately threw back the small amount of liquor that was in the glass. "Your turn..." Mimicking what he did, I threw back my glass of Coke and pretended that it burned going down. John signaled to the bartender.

"Same as you just drank?"

"Yes, please."

"EXACTLY the same," I chimed in. Unseen to John, the bartender winked at me and went about pouring us another round. "So...to pick things up where we left off upstairs..."

John chuckled. "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"If I did something to change how you treat me at work, I think I should know."

John then proceeded to feed me some line about how much stress he's been under lately. Three kids in three years, a new marriage, the stress of working for a boss who intimidates him and also leaves him out of the loop. Meanwhile, the bartender kept a steady stream of bourbon coming for John and faux bourbon for me. After about his third glass, I could feel John loosening up. He started telling me about his wife, Laura...how he loved her but hated how domineering she could be. "I don't get to do what I want to do anymore. I always have to do what she wants to do, when she wants it done, how she wants it done. Marriage sucks!"

Two rounds later and the bartender made a point of telling us it was time to settle up and move on. "He's gonna fall off that stool if I give him another round."

After we settled the bill, we made our way to the elevator with me holding John so he could walk straight. "You know, Jason. I really like you!" he said a little too loudly. I guess it was a good think John appeared to be a happy drunk.

"Thanks, John," I said, playing along with his drunken musings. "I like you, too."

"I wish we were better friends. Be my friend again, Jason!"

"Uh..." I wanted to say yes. But I didn't want to agree to something that I'd have to take back if he went back to being an asshole tomorrow.

John grabbed my arm and rubbed it. "C'mon, buddy. Be my...BUDDY, buddy!"

"Well..."

John stomped his foot and whined like a child who wasn't getting his way. (Not a good look for a man in his early forties, by the way.) "C'mon!"

"Okay! Okay, I'll be your friend, again," I relented as the elevator arrived at the lobby and I helped him on.

"Thank God!" he said as he slouched against the back wall of the elevator with me still holding him up. Without warning, he threw one of his arms around my back. "We're buddies!" I had to admit that having him touch me - even in a drunken stupor - was having an effect on me. He continued rambling in a haze. "What I wouldn't give to do what I really wanna do."

It was probably useless for me to actually try to carry on a conversation with him at this point. He wouldn't remember a bit of it tomorrow. But I did. "It's never too late to set some new ground rules in your marriage. Have a talk with Laura when you get home. Tell her how you feel. Maybe then you'll get your way some of the time."

He looked at me, smiling goofily. "I don't want to wait." Then he started singing. "I don't wanna wait...for our lives to be over...I want to know right now. What will it be...?" He started laughing

I had to roll my eyes. "God, John... Not the Dawson's Creek theme song."

He slumped against me as the elevator felt like it was creeping upward...not fast enough for me. I felt his alcohol-soaked breath on my face. "So...which one did you like? Dawson or Pacey?"

"Excuse me?" I was surprised. How could he know? Even though I felt like I was obvious about my attraction to him, I had never come out to anyone at work.

"I know!" he continued. "You probably liked the gay one that they brought on in the second or third season. What was his name? Jack...or something. Yeah. You liked Jack, didn't you, Jason!"

"Okay, John." I tried to change the topic. "We're getting you into bed when we get back up to the room. You need to sleep this drunk off."

"Nope," he said, giggling like a fool. "What I need to do is do what I want to do!"

I'll never forget what happened next. I remember looking off in the other direction, rolling my eyes at him making yet another reference to exerting his masculine role in his marriage. I felt John's hand grab my chin and turn my face toward him. The next thing I knew, his lips touched mine. At first, I was so surprised, I didn't do anything. But as he pressed insistently against me, I couldn't help but to open my mouth and start kissing him back. It was finally happening. Something I'd fantasized about doing ever since John came to work in the office over seven years ago. And we were doing it in an elevator on the way back up to our hotel rooms. Oh the possibilities!

Part 8. Conflicting Feelings and a Drunken Blackout Mix Badly: John's perspective

I'd been dreading this trip to the PST clients' conference in Denver ever since Janine told me almost a month ago that Jason was going to be the one accompanying me there. And so far, the trip was fulfilling my worst nightmares. Other than a curt and obligatory "Hey" when we arrived at the airport terminal, we didn't speak another word to each other while waiting to depart. Believe me. I wanted to. I wanted to say something flirty to Jason. I wanted him to say something flirty to me. In spite of my urge to get him to stop acting that way with me, which I had succeeded at, I missed our relationship. I missed talking to him and seeing his admiration of and lust for me in his eyes.

Now, things were so cold between us. It was incredibly awkward, sitting there next to him, not saying a word. Every time I tried to speak, the words got stuck in my throat. Mercifully, we were seated separately on the plane, so I could just be alone with my own thoughts on the flight out to Denver. When we arrived at the airport, it was more of the same...nothing to say to each other. We shared a cab to the hotel, but we might as well have been miles apart. As we headed toward our hotel, I could see that the snow had picked up in intensity from when our plane landed. Perhaps foolishly, I didn't check the weather forecast before we left home to find out what the weather would be like here. Hopefully, it's just a passing snow shower.

After another awkward silence in the elevator on our way up to our adjacent rooms, I was finally in the solitude of my room and able to relax a little bit. I texted my wife, Laura, to let her know I had arrived safely. Then, I lay down on the bed, my head resting against the headboard and let myself be alone with my thoughts.

Did I find myself thinking about Laura and our three children...the happy life we had together...how in love Laura and I were and how satisfied she kept me, sexually? No. That's not where my mind went. When I was finally able to stop thinking about work and worrying that I'd let Janine down on this business trip - for better or worse, I was always anxious that I'd give her a reason to fire me - Jason was at the forefront of my thoughts. In my mind, we were in his office at work, just as we'd been during that daydream I had in my office a few weeks ago. His office door was shut. He was seated and I was standing directly in front of him, my slacks bulging out obscenely. Looking into his eyes intensely, I unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my slacks, and pulled my zipper down over the bulge, leaving my boxers as the only thing stopping my hard dick from springing out and slapping Jason in his face. A few weeks ago at the office, this is the point where Debi, the office manager, interrupted my thoughts. This time, there was no Debi to stop my mind from playing out the rest of the fantasy.

In my fantasy, I pushed my pants and boxers down at the same time, letting my achingly hard dick feel freedom. It didn't stay free for long, though. Looking up into my eyes, not missing a beat, Jason reached out and grasped me. Then, with no hesitation, he started licking my dick up and down. Fuck! Even though it was a fantasy, my dick in my jeans began throbbing as if Jason was really in my room with me. As my mind played out Jason alternating between licking and sucking my dick, I was now palming the huge bulge in my jeans with abandon. The next thing that happened surprised the hell out of me...as if my fantasies up until now had been completely normal and run-of-the-mill. In my fantasy, I reached down, grabbing Jason under the chin and pulled him part of the way up. I leaned down to meet him halfway in a passionate, heated kiss. As we kissed, he stood all the way up and I grabbed him to pull his body into mine.

When my thoughts were interrupted by my cell phone buzzing on the nightstand next to the bed, a wet spot had formed on the front of my jeans and a load of cum was clinging to my boxers and my dick. Still dazed from the fantasy, I reached over to check the message. It was from Glenmont's contact with PST, Jeff Prescott. A snowstorm set to drop a minimum of 2 feet of snow - but probably more than that - was bearing down in Denver. The roads were already starting to become treacherous. PST had canceled tomorrow's opening events at the conference and would reassess whether or not the conference would even continue as planned later tomorrow.

When I looked out the window, I could see things were starting to look pretty bad out there. Not wanting to have to subsist on hotel food alone, if we ended up getting snowed-in, I decided to order a couple pizzas for Jason and I so that we could ration them throughout the week, if need be. After finding a parlor that was still delivering before the weather got too much worse, I cleaned up and changed clothes and made my way next door to invite Jason to eat with me.

It was time this so-called Cold War between us ended. And the load I had shot into my other boxers earlier made me see that maybe Jason and I flirting with each other wasn't such a bad thing. He obviously wasn't ever going to make a move on me. And, as long as I could control these urges I didn't even realize I had, we should be able to be friends. I hoped having him join me for dinner would be a good start to us repairing our broken friendship. When I invited him over to my room, he didn't seem very excited. It's understandable, I guess, given how badly things between us had deteriorated. I was convinced that, once we smoothed things over at dinner, all would be good! If we got snowed-in in the hotel, maybe we'd even hang out with each other and become better friends!

If I thought our pizza dinner would end with us holding hands and singing Kumbaya, I was wrong. Jason point blank told me that I'd been acting like an asshole to him. Of course, he was right. I had been. But, when he asked me for an explanation of why I was acting that way toward him, I couldn't give him an answer. At least, not an answer that wouldn't have begged more questions. There was no way I could divulge to him that had started enjoying his flirting with me and my flirting back with him. So, I did the only thing I could think of: invite him down to the hotel bar for drinks. Maybe if I got him drunk, he'd forget to press me for an answer about my behavior and we'd be friends again.