Chapter 3
Gavin
H is hands were all over me. I wished I could say I didn’t like it, that I was just doing it to help him out, but I couldn’t. It had been a long time since I’d been touched by someone I knew and trusted. I’d forgotten how different it was from the bathroom of a bar, or a stranger’s house where I was constantly on edge. I knew it was wrong and bad and that I would regret it. But damned if I was going to tell him no. It was Collin. I’d had dreams of it for years. I would worry about regret later.
He'd finished my tattoo. He started when the shop was still open, and he told his co-worker he was going to stay late to finish it. It gave us a viable excuse to remain in the locked tattoo shop after hours. The tattoo was done, though, and we were still there.
He was kissing my neck as he pressed me into the tattoo chair I stood in front of, and my knees threatened to buckle at the unexpected tenderness he was showing me. My hands gripped the edge of the chair, trying not to freak him out by touching him too much even though I wanted to roam his body with them. I was already hard and if I was being honest, the thing I feared the most was that he would freak out and decide to stop before anything happened. A jerk off in the shower would be really disappointing after the build-up that had started with him running his hand all over my ass while he was finishing the tattoo.
He slid his hand from my bare back, careful not to touch the sensitive spots he’d just tattooed, around to my torso, then slowly slid it lower as he continued kissing and nipping at my neck. He groaned when he found my erection already straining at my jeans. “Fuck, Gavin,” he whispered. He backed off and my heart dropped a little, but he walked over to a drawer and pulled out a packet of lube and a condom he’d obviously stashed in there before I arrived. He turned back to me. “I don’t really know what I’m doing here,” he admitted almost shyly.
Deciding to help him out and speed things along, I forced back thoughts of my past and reached for the button of my jeans. I focused on him the entire time, making sure he wasn’t going to run away. When he didn’t, I dropped my jeans and kicked off my shoes, stepping out of the pants and pushing them away with my foot. I reached for the waistband of my boxer briefs, trying like hell to stay focused on his face and the room, but he stepped forward. He reached out and moved my hands, then gently traced the lines of the tattoos on my abs, the ones he’d put there after I sucked him off in the same room. He was looking at my very visible erection as his hands slid lower and he finally gripped my dick with those shaky hands through my underwear.
I sighed and my eyes slid closed. My hands went back to the chair behind me, letting him explore how he wanted to. I had to continue fighting to block out the past and stay in the moment, especially with such a slow build-up and letting him have full control. That was nothing new, though, and I’d gotten pretty decent at focusing. My brain zeroed in on the feeling of Collin’s warm, gentle, scared hands and refused to think about shocks and heat and ice inflicting pain on my body. About how wrong and bad and disgusting they said I was.
Collin made a little sound in his throat as he felt the wet spot on my underwear where he already had me leaking. Please don’t stop touching me. His hand moved away from my dick, but immediately went to my waistband, pulling my boxer briefs down to the floor where I stepped out of them. My eyes slowly opened to find him standing back and taking in my body from head to toe. I felt a little self-conscious with him standing there fully clothed, unabashedly checking out what he had for the taking, but I stayed still and let him do what he wanted. Anything he wanted, as long as he’d touch me again.
I didn’t speak as he stared at me, because I didn’t want to scare him off. He finally stepped forward again, holding the lube and condom in trembling hands as he looked at me helplessly. I put him out of his misery by grabbing the lube and pushing the hand with the condom back toward him.
He stopped and stared again as I lubed up two fingers and reached behind me. I didn’t let him make me hesitate. I blocked out everything but my desire for him to fuck me, and we were in too far to stop now. He watched where my hand had disappeared behind my body for a second, then seemed to come to life. He yanked his shirt over his head as he kicked off his shoes. With only a second’s hesitation, he unbuttoned his pants and let them drop to the floor. His underwear followed as I lubed up a third finger and handed the packet back to him.
I could tell he wanted to watch what I was doing, but he’d had his fill of eye candy, and I wasn’t going to turn around for him until it was my turn to get what I wanted. I was pleased to see he was as hard as I was, though, so I did play it up a little bit. I let out a moan and bit my lip as I continued opening myself up. His dick gave a twitch, and I managed to refrain from smirking. He slid the condom on and slathered it with lube as I pulled my fingers out and looked at him. “How do you want me?” I asked softly, since he was running the show.
“Uh…” he started but didn’t finish.
“Do you want me on the edge of the chair, facing you? Or do you want me to bend over it? It’s up to you, Collin.” Please do not back out on me now. There are not enough toys in the world to take care of the problem you’ll have caused me .
“How about…bent over it?” I knew he’d choose not to look me in the eye. While it still stung a little, I already knew that wasn’t something he would be able to do. He needed to be able to explore without anyone looking at him, including me. I still needed to give him the option, though, mainly to reiterate that he was in charge.
I turned my back to him and leaned over the chair with my elbows resting on it. I spread my legs and waited for him to make his move, trying not to get self-conscious again. In the waiting, I had to struggle to block out that room. I focused on the feeling of the tattoo chair under my arms, the brick wall in front of me, the sounds of his breathing behind me, trying to stay present and calm. I finally felt him step behind me. He ran his hands down my sides, giving my ass a squeeze. “I don’t want to hurt you, Gavin,” he said softly.
I tried not to melt at the care because it was kind of foreign. Occasionally I’d find one who was sensitive and attentive to my needs as well as their own, but usually it was a quick one-off, in and out as fast as they could. Sometimes I managed to get off before them, sometimes I had to finish myself off after they’d already left. Sometimes I just gave blowjobs that were reciprocated about half the time. The hookups weren’t ideal, but all I ever wanted from them was an orgasm, however I got it. Being there with Collin already felt different. And I knew that was probably a bad thing.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, turning my head slightly but not looking at him, “Just take it easy. Don’t shove it in. Don’t worry, though, you don’t have to coddle me.” It’s not my first rodeo, Collin.
“Right,” he said, understanding dawning as he remembered that it was his first time with a guy, not mine. I felt him hesitating at my entrance, and I waited for him even though I felt like I might explode. He finally pressed forward and breached the rim as I let him in. I pressed back toward him, both to speed him up and let him know I was fine. He pushed in until he was fully seated, then he fell forward, catching himself with his hands on the chair so he didn’t hit the tattoo, but his lips were near my ear, and I could feel his breath. He gave me a gentle kiss on my neck. If I hadn’t been leaning on the table, I would have melted to the floor. “Ok?” he asked me.
I nodded, pressing back a little bit again to get him to move. He finally stood up and started thrusting gently, still trying to be careful. I could tell he was watching what he was doing, but I didn’t dare look at him. I moved with him, trying to get him to hit just the right angle. When I finally found it, I let out a little moan. “Just like that,” I whispered.
He sped up a little bit, pleased that he was doing it right. He continued hitting my sweet spot, a little harder each time, and his hands slid up and down my sides as he let out a moan. I could tell he wasn’t going to last as long as I needed him to, so I reached down and started stroking myself in time with his movements. I moaned out loud as precum leaked around my fingers and my hand sped up as I pressed back to meet each of his thrusts.
Collin suddenly let out a little growl, and to my surprise, he swatted my hand away and replaced it with his own. His thrusts were growing harder still, hitting just right, and he pumped my cock in time with them. I gasped as it twitched and leaked in his hand, and he let out a groan. My entire body shuddered, and my knees went weak. I gripped the opposite edge of the chair as a cry slipped out. Sex in the bars was a means to an end, just a way to get off and get me through for a while. But I was with someone I trusted. It was different. It was a friend. It was also someone I knew was going to hurt me in the end, but I refused to think about that as my orgasm built in my core and my body trembled beneath his.
He groaned again. “Fuck, Gavin. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His thrusts were growing erratic, but he continued jacking me off, even as I felt him reach his peak. I was so close. I rutted into the fist that he was still trying to move through his own orgasm, and he managed to keep hitting my prostate even as his dick pulsed inside me and he cried out. He hit just right with one last thrust, and it sent me over the edge with him. I let out a sob as my body shook and my cum spilled out through his fingers. My knuckles were white where they gripped the chair. When we both stopped moving, my head dropped down to rest on my forearms.
His head dropped to my back, between my shoulder blades, and we stayed like that for a minute, catching our breath. He finally straightened and pulled out. I heard him getting rid of the condom and washing his hands, but I still couldn’t manage to lift myself off the chair. That had been the best orgasm I’d had in a long time, and it was one I knew was about to be ruined by the person who’d given it to me.
I heard him coming toward me, and to my surprise, he started cleaning me up with a warm, damp rag. I finally managed to push myself up to standing, even though my legs were still shaky, and I turned to face him. He’d put his underwear back on. He glanced at my face, then looked away. “Thanks, Gavin…for that.”
“Uh-huh,” was all I said. I grabbed my clothes off the floor, hesitating but knowing I had to get dressed. He had turned to clean the evidence of our tryst off the floor and the chair, and I pulled my clothes on quickly. He threw the rag in a bag of laundry then pulled his pants and shirt back on.
I was putting my shoes on when he turned back to me. “So…uh…”
“I’m going,” I said, finally looking back at him, “Thanks for the tattoo.” I’d never felt like more of a whore in my life than in that moment. He’d tried to dance around it, but it was what it was. It hadn’t been all I was after, but it was his justification for what we’d just done.
“Gavin, I…that was great. You were great. I needed that…I needed to do that…I just…” I already know, Collin. You needed to get it out of your system. You needed to see what it was like. You needed to make sure you’re straight. Got it.
“Yeah,” I cut him off, putting him out of his misery yet again, “You were great, too. You don’t have to say anything else. I, uh…I’ll see you later. I know the way out.”
I turned and headed for the door. What I would have given for him to stop me. To tell me that it meant something to him, too. Maybe a hug goodbye or at least an acknowledgment that we could still be friends, that we hadn’t just made things so weird that he’d never look me in the eye again. But he didn’t stop me. And I knew we’d just made it that weird. I ruined everything good in my life. It was just what I did. It had started the day I kissed my best friend when we were sixteen and it hadn’t stopped. I wasn’t allowed to have anything good, and that had been obvious for a while.
The door clicked shut behind me as I left. I stopped on the sidewalk, just long enough to sigh and run my hands through my hair, but then I started walking toward my apartment four blocks away. I was lost in my own head, and I didn’t even see the person in the shadows a block from the tattoo shop. I was yanked backwards into an alley between two dark stores before I could even manage to cry out.
I could tell instantly that it was my dad who had me in a chokehold, but I was aware that he wasn’t alone. I knew he had former colleagues keeping tabs on me, but I also knew that he hadn’t told them what they were looking for, because he didn’t want anyone to know. So I had a pretty good idea of who was with him, but they were both still behind me.
“I’m very disappointed in you, Gavin,” my dad hissed in my ear, “I thought these demons were gone. I thought we took care of this when you were seventeen. You told them you were different. You convinced them. Were you lying about it? Did you not only still crave sex with men but lie to servants of God?”
I wanted to scream. I wasn’t a na?ve kid anymore. I knew God, and there was no way any of them were his servants. There was no way God was alright with what they were doing. I wasn’t perfect, but they definitely weren’t as perfect as they thought they were, and they certainly weren’t doing God’s work like they claimed to be.
My dad pulled me farther into the shadows and let go. I gasped in a couple of breaths and whirled around to find him standing beside my father, a smug yet somewhat angry look on his face. I could run, but he could probably outrun me, and my dad was still big enough and agile enough to kick my ass. With both of them together, I didn’t stand a chance. I just glared at them.
I didn’t like that everything was closed and no one was around. I wondered if I yelled loudly enough Collin would hear me. I couldn’t risk it, though. He could have already left in his car, and yelling would do nothing but piss them off more. Instead, I stood my ground and looked at them defiantly, blatantly lying in their faces. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was getting a tattoo. Why are you out here?”
My dad shoved me. “Don’t lie to us again, Gavin. God hates liars. Almost as badly as he hates gays. The devil has a firm hold on you, boy. We know what you were doing in there. You were right in front of a window. Did you not think about the possibility of someone looking in and seeing you…seeing you creating an abomination with that other boy?”
I lost all sense of fear in the wave of emotion that hit me. “What the fuck ? Were you watching me? I was inside a closed and locked business, in the back of the building. The only way anyone could have possibly seen me was to walk around the side of private property and look in the window like fucking pervert creepers. You’re calling me an abomination? You freaks are the ones who were watching!”
The punch to the side of my head that came from my dad immediately after I spoke made me stumble backwards. He didn’t say anything to stop it. I was sure he was pissed, but I was also sure he’d gotten hard as fuck watching and had to simultaneously try to hide that fact from my dad while being both angry and turned on.
“Watch your mouth you little fag,” my dad hissed, “We walked around to the back to see why Collin was still in the building when it was closed. We saw you go in earlier, and never saw you leave. No one stays that late for a tattoo.”
My dad shoved me again, that time into the brick wall of the grocery store I was standing next to. I was pretty sure my back started bleeding. It would probably ruin the tattoo I’d just gotten finished. “I thought we fixed this seven years ago, Gavin,” my dad spit out, “But I had a feeling you were out here screwing around like a little slut, I just haven’t been able to catch you until tonight. Don’t push me right now, I am not happy with you.”
Of course he wasn’t happy with me. In fact, he hadn’t been happy with me since he found out I was gay. Come to think of it, I wasn’t sure he’d ever been happy with me before that, either, but at least before I’d only been afraid of his fists, not afraid for my life. “What’s new?” was all I said.
He grabbed my arm again, so roughly I was unable to stop myself from crying out. I was probably going to be covered in bruises by the time he was done with me. “You listen here, you worthless piece of shit,” he said as he shook me by my arm, spit flying into my face as he spoke, “You’ve done nothing but embarrass me your entire life.”
My eyes dropped in shame because he was watching the whole thing play out. My dad had never actually said out loud that I was nothing more than an embarrassment to him, even if he’d shown it. It didn’t matter that I’d kept our house up to his military standards, or that I’d never talked back to him. It didn’t matter that I’d always listened, got straight A’s, and did my best. I’d still never done anything but embarrass him. It hurt more than I even expected despite my hatred of him. I was just the sick, disgusting, gay kid he wished he didn’t have.
He continued shaking me as he went on, “I tried to fix you, but it obviously didn’t work. You’re going back. You’re going to stay until we take care of the problem for good, however long it takes. No matter what it takes.” My heart dropped to my feet. No. I wouldn’t go back . I started shaking my head, desperately trying to pull away from him, to run far away, where he couldn’t find me. Anything but that. He didn’t let go. He swung me around and slammed me into a dumpster. Jesus, my back .
I managed to not crumple to the ground after he released me. I gathered myself up. I was an adult. They couldn’t force me into it. They couldn’t make me. I could say no. Putting aside the fact that he still had way too many friends in the police force and other less savory places, and could probably get away with murder, I spoke up for myself. “I’m a fucking adult. You can’t make me do anything.”
He laughed out loud and it made my blood run cold. “Oh my poor, ignorant son,” he said, walking toward me, still laughing sadistically, “You really don’t know me by now? You really don’t understand. I think you have a very unhealthy addiction that needs to be rectified. One that is too much for you or me to handle alone.”
An addiction ? My breaths started coming too quickly and I gripped my chest. “No, I don’t.” It came out a whisper, but it was all I could manage.
He was still grinning. “Oh, but you do, Gavin. Your trips out of town caught my attention and the attention of my old friends. Your job has recently been made aware that you’re an addict. They’ve been watching you. Haven’t you noticed?” I thought it was my paranoia . “They know you’ve been stealing from them, and they know that’s why. They understand that you would never do something like that if you were in your right mind. But this addiction is going to ruin you.”
I shook my head. “No…I…I haven’t stolen anything.” I’d never stolen anything in my life. What the fuck was he talking about, and why was he so confident about it?
He reached me, but his grin was maniacal as he went on, “But, Gavin, they’ve realized money has gone missing. They know where it’s been going. Don’t worry, I had a little talk with them. They know this isn’t you, but unfortunately, they can’t keep an addict who steals from them as an employee. Word spreads fast in a small town, too, I’m afraid. No one wants to hire a thief or an addict. It’s very sad, but that’s how it is. It looks like you won’t be able to afford your rent this month, son.” He backed up, but my face felt numb. I just needed to breathe. I couldn’t breathe.
“Since the police have become aware of this issue, they’re going to have to confiscate your car, because I’ve assured them they’ll find evidence in it that will prove this problem of yours and they’re already on it.” He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t frame me. He couldn’t.
“Have a nice night, Gavin. I’ll be seeing you soon. As will your friend here.” My dad stalked out of the alley.
He gave me a predatory grin. “You shouldn’t have ignored me, Gavin,” he whispered, then followed my dad out to the sidewalk.
I slid to the ground against the dumpster, still gripping my chest and trying to remember how to breathe properly. It would not be good to pass out in the alley. I couldn’t find five things to see, let alone hear, smell, feel, or taste. All I could hear was my dad telling me he’d just ruined my life while letting everyone think I’d done it on my own. As they disappeared around the corner, his words fully sank into my brain. No.
I struggled to stand, pulling myself up despite my struggles to breathe normally, feeling lightheaded and nauseous. I stumbled the three blocks to the laundromat to find a tow truck already pulling out of the parking lot with my car on the back of it. “No!” I cried and tried to run after them. I ended up tripping over my own feet and landing hard on my hands and knees on the sidewalk. “No,” I said, quietly that time. I could feel the tears threatening.
I managed to get back up and make my way to the outside stairs that led to my apartment. I was sucking in air like I was drowning. I pulled myself upstairs by the railing, slamming the door shut behind me when I was inside and locking it. I stood there for a moment, leaning against the door and taking deep breaths as I tried to calm myself. I forced myself to become aware of the things around me that I could see, hear, feel, smell and taste. I finally managed to get my heart rate to an acceptable level, then I walked into the bathroom.
Looking in the mirror, I found a welt on my head beneath my hair where my dad had punched me. There were bruises on my arm from his fingers. My back was scratched up and bleeding. I carefully cleaned it, hoping it wouldn’t scar the tattoo. It hurt, but I had more pressing problems than a sore tattoo. I put some ice in a plastic grocery bag and held it to my head hoping I wouldn’t end up with a concussion.
The next blow was a text from Collin. Hey, look, I had a really good time tonight, but I think maybe we should cool it for a little bit. Let’s hold off on any more tattoos for a while, alright? I think we should keep our distance for a few. No offense, really. It’s not you. I just need to work through some stuff, and I feel like if I see you, I won’t be able to, ok?
I tossed the phone onto the table and fell into bed. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t expected it. I mean, I knew it was coming. But right after my dad’s words, and right after he’d started taking apart the entire life I’d built for myself, losing the only person resembling a friend that I had was a hard blow. It had always been kind of a fucked-up friendship, and I’d let it all happen even knowing the inevitable outcome. But in one night I’d lost everything, and all I could think was how I really did ruin everything good in my life. I let all of it happen. Again. If I hadn’t been so horny, if I’d kept it in my pants, none of it would have happened. I ruined everything, everyone I touched. I hated myself, and I hated my life.
I managed to fall asleep somehow, probably in part due to my head injury, but woke up with the makeshift icepack leaking all over the place and my phone ringing at seven a.m. I sat up and looked at the phone, my heart sinking even further when I saw it was the gym. I knew before I even answered it that it hadn’t been an empty threat.
It was my manager. “Gavin, it has come to our attention that a significant amount of money has gone missing. I had a talk with your dad yesterday. I’m not going to press charges, but we do have evidence that points to you. As of today, your position is terminated. I hope you get the help you need. I’m sorry it has to come to this.”
I had no idea who my dad had framing me, but I tried to tell him I wasn’t a thief. That I’d never stolen anything, and I wasn’t on drugs. He wouldn’t hear my pleas, though. He told me he didn’t want any excuses and hung up on me. I was suddenly almost broke, jobless, car-less, and on the verge of homelessness. I knew any attempt to find a job would be shut down by the gym, my dad, and any number of his cronies. I knew they’d spread their bullshit like wildfire, even though the only thing I was addicted to that he didn’t like was dick. He wanted them to believe I was a drug addict so he could send me for help. I supposed I should be grateful that he didn’t just kill me for being someone he so despised, but honestly, it might have been better.
I paced around my apartment, taking measured breaths as I tried not to utterly lose it. I didn’t know what to do. I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. My only parent hated me with a passion. My only friend didn’t want to see me because I’d let him fuck me, and I had literally no one else. The one night stands over the years had been just that. I didn’t even have any of their phone numbers. I didn’t talk to anyone at the gym. Rent was due in a week, and without a paycheck from that week, I wouldn’t make it.
I sat down on my couch with my head in my hands, trying to think of someone, anyone I could ask for help. I hated asking for help. I always had. But at that point, I was desperate. I wanted to go to anyone but him, because I couldn’t go back there. I let out a sob as I realized there was no one in my life I could count on, and I’d never felt so utterly alone.
I wiped the tears off my face and turned on the TV, hoping it would distract me enough to keep the panic attack that was right there at bay. It only got four channels on a good day, but I didn’t think I could hold my phone in my shaky hands long enough to calm down. By that point I was resigned to my fate, but I wasn’t sure yet how it would play out. I wasn’t sure if I’d actually let him send me back, or I’d just end it myself before he could. Either way, my dad wouldn’t actually care.
When the commercial that was playing ended, the news came on, and they were talking about sports. It was like some sort of sign, or maybe an omen, knowing my life. I stared at the hockey game on the screen as I suddenly realized that there had been someone in my life before. Someone who had truly cared about me. Someone I shared secrets with growing up, stared at the sky with on long summer nights, and trusted more than anyone, up until I ruined it all. I’d always been able to count on him then, but I hadn’t spoken to him since I hurt him. I doubted he’d want to talk to me, but at the moment, I couldn’t think of any other options. I would not go back to that place. I would die first. So even if it came to it, I may as well die trying.
I grabbed the money I’d stashed in my sock drawer for rent and counted it. I was pretty sure I could get a bus ticket and still have enough for a few meals. Maybe he’d give me a job. Maybe I could stay in that shelter just long enough to get back on my feet. Maybe he’d take pity on me one last time, just enough that I could make it on my own.
I grabbed a backpack and stuffed it with a few changes of clothing, some deodorant, and my toothbrush. I filled a reusable bottle full of tap water and stuffed the money in my wallet. With a sigh, I smashed my phone to pieces and left it on the counter. He would not use it to follow me, and he would not read my private messages. He would have no way to trace me if I used only cash, and I doubted he’d assume I’d run to the boy whose forehead he once held a gun to because he caught us fooling around as teenagers.
With one more sad sigh and a look around the place I’d made my own, the place that might be shitty but was mine , I walked out the door, locking it behind me for the last time.