Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
Blake
Virgil followed the last two patrons to the door as they stumbled out, hanging on to each other for support, babbling and singing nonsensically, and locked the door behind them.
“Well, that’s the last time I’ll be locking up after last call.” Virgil worked the key off his key chain and held it out to Blake. “This is yours now.”
Blake accepted the key and put it in his pocket. “I can’t believe I won’t be seeing you every day.”
“I’ll keep in touch. Something tells me I won’t be able to stay away from this place for long. You have my email address. Let me know if you have any questions. But not too many. I’m old and want to spend my time lying around in a hammock drinking fruity cocktails.”
Ethan brought out the card he’d been hiding behind his back and handed it to Virgil.
“What’s this?” Virgil asked.
“A little thank you, from both of us,” Blake said.
Virgil chuckled at the card’s cartoon vampire, and read the caption aloud. “Life will suck without you.” He opened the card and lifted out the check, his eyes widening. “Guys, you don’t need to do this.”
“We want to,” Blake said. “It’s my way of saying thank you, for giving me a chance, and for being a great boss. And a friend. You can put the money toward your trip to the Bamboo Reef.”
Virgil held the card to his chest. “Thank you.”
“Make sure you send us a postcard,” Ethan said.
Virgil threw his arms around Blake and squeezed him, the comforting smell of cigarettes clinging to his shirt. “You’re going to be great.”
He gave Ethan the same full-body bear hug. “Take good care of him.”
Blake and Ethan walked him to the door, and with a smile and a lingering glance at the club he’d owned for most of his adult life, Virgil walked off into the night.
Blake locked the door, and the enormity of the moment raised a lump in his throat. This was it. The Firehouse was closed. “The end of an era,” he muttered.
Ethan rested his hand on Blake’s shoulder. “And the start of another.”
Looking down at the key in his hand, Blake blinked a few times. The high from the show was wearing off, and in its place, a heavy weight of sadness was settling in his chest. “Now what?”
“Wait here,” Ethan said. “I have something for you in Virgil’s office.” He hurried off, peeking over his shoulder with a grin on his way past the runway.
Curious what his friend was up to, Blake slipped the key into his pocket and sat at a high-top table near the stage.
A few minutes later, Ethan emerged from the back hallway carrying a guitar case. Is he going to serenade me? The thought stirred up pleasant butterflies in Blake’s stomach.
“I’ve been looking around for weeks,” Ethan said, “trying to find a gift to say ‘congratulations for making your dream come true.’ Then I saw this.” He set the case on the runway with a shy smile. “Open it.”
Blake flipped up the chrome latches and lifted the lid. Nestled in the case’s burgundy velvet lining was a gorgeous guitar, its varnished wood the color of honey. A rosette of darker wood was inlaid around the sound hole.
“Oh my god. It’s beautiful.” He carefully lifted it out of the case and strummed the strings.
“Zane has agreed to give you free lessons. He says it’s because he blames himself for how I found out you were a porn star, but I think it’s because he wants one-on-one time with Dirk Slocum. Trust me, you’re both getting something out of the deal.”
Blake chuckled and carefully placed the guitar back into the case. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you is enough for now. And maybe, someday, you can write a song for me.”
“Thank you.” Blake pulled Ethan into a hug. He intended the hug to be a quick embrace, but Ethan’s body felt too good against his. Pressing his nose to Ethan’s neck, he breathed in his clean, masculine scent.
Before he knew it, the hug had lasted far longer than a professional thank-you squeeze.
But Ethan didn’t pull away. He rubbed his hands up and down Blake’s back in slow, soothing strokes.
Blake leaned back slightly, searching Ethan’s eyes, but his expression was unreadable. Had he crossed a line and made Ethan uncomfortable?
He was about to apologize when Ethan tilted his head to the side, just a bit. The movement was slight, but the intention was clear. An invitation.
Blake closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together in a soft, tender kiss. Ethan’s breath hitched, and after a moment’s hesitation, he returned the kiss, brushing his bottom lip against Blake’s.
With a moan of surrender, Blake offered his tongue, and was delighted when Ethan’s tongue twirled around his.
A spark ignited low in his belly. He wanted to barrel forward and tear off Ethan’s clothes so he could get his hands on that tight little body.
But he forced himself to hold back, his cock hard and aching.
He needed to give Ethan a chance to walk away if he didn’t want this to go any further.
Blake kissed his way down Ethan’s neck. “I want you,” he said, unfastening the top button of Ethan’s shirt. He worked the tip of his nose under the shirt’s collar and nuzzled Ethan’s skin, slightly rough with stubble, as he undid another button. “Do you want––”
“Yes,” Ethan whispered, a breath as much as a word. He slid his hands under the waistband of Blake’s sweatpants, cupping his bare ass cheeks and pulling him flush to his body.
The dam broke between them, and their kiss became hungry. They devoured each other’s mouths as they rolled their hips, grinding their cocks together, sharing their heat and hardness.
Ethan’s fingers slipped into Blake’s crack and grazed his hole. Dropping his head to Ethan’s shoulder, Blake hummed and arched his back slightly, offering himself to his lover. Ethan rubbed his rim in slow circles, sinking his fingertips into the warm ring of muscle.
“C-can I taste you?” Ethan asked, his voice shaky.
Blake pushed his sweatpants down his thighs and bent over the runway, eager to feel Ethan’s mouth on him. Ethan hadn’t rimmed him before, and when they broke up, Blake had resigned himself to the sad truth that he’d never know how it felt to have Ethan kiss his most intimate area.
“Beautiful,” Ethan murmured, dropping to his knees behind Blake and parting his cheeks. Blake’s toes curled in his sneakers when Ethan’s breath ghosted over his exposed hole.
Used to having a smooth, camera-ready asshole, Blake was suddenly self-conscious about the hair that had grown back in the months since he’d stopped regularly waxing.
Tonight, Ethan was getting his first close-up view of the dark hair in his crack.
Maybe that was why he was hovering close to Blake’s hole, but not diving in.
“Am I too hairy for you?”
Ethan kissed Blake’s ass cheek. “No, I’m admiring the view. I happen to like hairy butts.” As if to demonstrate, Ethan licked his rim, slow and deep. “I love seeing the hair all wet with spit and lube.” He sunk the warm, wet tip of his tongue into Blake’s hole.
“Fuck, that feels good,” Blake said, his eyelids fluttering closed. “Get me sopping wet.”
Ethan groaned, the pleasurable vibrations waking up nerves deeper in Blake’s ass.
Blake loved a good rim job, but it always stopped there.
Tonight, he wanted more. Only one man – his high school boyfriend Dylan – had ever been inside him.
Since then, he hadn’t met another man he trusted enough for such a vulnerable and intimate experience.
But he trusted Ethan, and he burned with the need to be joined with him, to be as close as two men could be.
“Will you fuck me?” Blake asked.
Ethan froze, his tongue mid-lick. “Really?”
Was that a good really or a bad really? “No pressure,” Blake blurted. “Only if you want to.”
“Oh, I want to.” Ethan said, his voice a deep, husky rumble.
Blake glanced over his shoulder, amazed at the dark, intense smolder in Ethan’s eyes.
After a charged moment where the only sound was their heavy breathing, they stripped off their clothes in a mad rush. Shirts, pants, and sneakers piled up next to the runway.
Ethan hopped on one foot, pulling off his sock. “Wait. We don’t have any supplies.”
“Fuck.” Blake racked his brain. There had to some nearby. The guys stashed lube and condoms everywhere, the way squirrels hid nuts for winter. “Check behind the bar.”
Ethan grimaced at the dirty floor, then dashed to the bar. The floor was filthy, and Blake had visions of his bare skin sticking to it. The runway was probably the cleanest surface right now, so he hoisted himself onto the stage.
“Found some!” Ethan held up the condom and lube packets with a triumphant cheer. He hurried back, and Blake helped him climb onto the runway.
“Wow,” Ethan said, scanning the club’s dance floor. “Up here, it’s like we’re starring in a live sex show.”
Blake ran his hand up Ethan’s thigh. “Nah, this one’s just for us.”
With a fragile smile, Ethan leaned in and kissed him. “Can I be inside you now?”
Blake lay back and bent his knees, lifting them toward his chest. “I want to be on my back, so we’re face-to-face.”
Ethan tore open one of the lube packets and drizzled half the packet on Blake’s hole. The coolness of the slick fluid was thrilling, and a droplet of pre-cum leaked from Blake’s dick, stretching into a glistening thread as it dripped to his abs.
Ethan wiggled his fingertip through the lube and applied pressure to Blake’s hole. His touch was gentle, but still caused a zing of anxiety in Blake’s stomach. I’m going to get railed. “Go slow, I haven’t had a dick in there since high school.”
“I’ll be gentle,” Ethan promised. “Let me know if you need to take a break.” He sunk his finger inside, and Blake hissed from the sudden sting of discomfort when he breached his inner ring.
But true to his word, Ethan kept his movements slow and gentle.
As his finger glided in and out in a fluid rhythm, the burning sensation mellowed to a pleasant warmth that spread throughout Blake’s body.