Chapter 9
Farnsworth
The music is much louder here, the lights flashing around in patterns splattered across the walls and the people milling about. In the center of the room, bodies smash together in rhythmic waves, creating a hypnotic scene I can’t pull my gaze from.
“Want another drink?” Borja asks me, leaning in close so I can hear him over the music.
I nod. “Yes.”
Smiling, he grabs my hand and leads me through the crowd of people. I’m bumped into, touched, and even caressed as I pass, and the feeling is… oddly pleasant. It’s been ages since I’ve interacted with the mortal realm to this level, and even longer since I’ve been touched.
Standing behind Borja, I notice as he pulls money from his billfold and counts it out. I should help. I flick my wrist, producing a wad of modern currency, and I reach for Borja’s hand, pressing it into his palm.
“What’s this?”
“Money.”
He looks down, flipping through a few bills, then stepping closer. “Hide most of this. We don’t want to get mugged.”
“Is it a lot?”
“Uh, yeah, it’s a lot.” He chuckles. “Just pulled it out of thin air, did you?”
“I have many resources available to me.”
“I see. I got enough to pay for drinks.”
“Wouldn’t matter if we were mugged. I could get more money, and no mortal can hurt us.”
“Good to know, but it’s still not a pleasant experience.”
I nod in understanding, lingering behind him as he pushes his way forward. Glancing around, I note all the unique outfits, then slowly realize the clientele is predominately male, with only a few women sprinkled about. Ah. A gentleman’s club. They must have lenient rules to allow women in though.
Borja turns around, holding two colorful drinks. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” I take one of the glasses. “Is this a gentlemen’s club?”
His brow creases. “Uh, no. There’s no stripping here.”
“Stripping? What do you mean?”
“Dancers taking off their clothes.”
I pull my head back. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“That’s what a gentlemen’s club is. Typically, the dancers are women, but there are some with male dancers.”
I shake my head. “No, a gentlemen’s club is for conversation, chess, perhaps reading, discussing the events of the world, art, literature. I thought perhaps this was a modern version given the number of men in the room.”
“Oh.” He chuckles softly. “No, this is a gay club. Anyone can come in, but the main clientele is gay men.”
“A club just for men who love men?”
“Yep.”
“Well, isn’t that a surprise.” I sip my drink, delighted by the sweet, fruity taste. It’s not as good as the last one was, but it’s close. “What does one do here?”
“Anything we want, Farnsworth. We can dance, or we can sit and watch people.” He leans even closer. “This is the kind of place where you could find a hookup in a corner or a bathroom.”
My stomach flutters. “Oh. I see.”
“Want to dance?”
“I wouldn’t know how. Dancing was very different when I lived.”
“Good news—you can do whatever you want now.” He slams his drink down and drops the cup on a table before he grabs my wrist. “Come on.”
Reluctantly, I follow Borja to the crowded space in the middle. The music, if that’s what we should call it, sounds like someone beating on a wall, but the singer’s voice is pleasant enough.
Borja moves in front of me, gently swaying his hips with his arms at his sides. I can do that. I do my best to copy his moves, and as I take more sips of my drink, my head turns cloudy and I find that I’m actually having… fun. Wondrous.
The songs change but the people stay, sometimes crowding in more, pressing against me or pushing me into Borja, who always catches me before I stumble. My goodness, he’s a handsome man, even more handsome when he’s under these mystical lights and losing himself to the music.
He shimmies closer to me, placing his hands on my hips and guiding my movements, and as I hold his gaze, I have to wonder what it is about this man that makes me abandon my inhibitions and proprieties.
Why does it feel so comfortable to join his world and leave mine behind?
What else could I be brave enough to try?
Could I kiss a man? Could I hook up? I nearly laugh at my own thoughts.
I don’t even really know what it feels like to touch another man in that way, and while this is an opportunity to find out, my mind should be focused on the mission that brought me here in the first place.
But Borja won’t stop looking at me with those sultry eyes of his. He won’t stop licking his full lips, or brushing against me. He won’t stop gripping my hips and moving me to the music.
I’m a fool to be tempted by him. He’s just trying to show me a good time. Even if I wanted to explore, it couldn’t be with him. It shouldn’t be. He probably doesn’t even see me that way.
“Are you having fun?” he asks, leaning forward until our noses almost touch.
I nod. “Yes.”
“The night is young, Farnsworth. We can do anything you want. I could even take you to a true gentlemen’s club.”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
He grins, lifting my arm and twirling me in a circle before pulling me into him until our chests touch. “I’ve never been a huge fan of watching naked people I can’t touch.”
With his arm around my waist, our bodies swaying together, and the alcohol I drank most certainly going to my head, I find myself imagining improper things. Tentatively, I place my hands on his chest, lightly flexing my fingers to feel his muscles.
“Is this okay?”
A sweet smile spreads across his face. “It is. Touch me wherever you want.”
Could I? The idea warms my insides in a new way. It’s as if a fire burns within me. Does he notice?
Borja’s hand slides up my back as he pulls me just a bit closer. I’m both excited and completely scandalized, but everyone is doing it around us. Men grind against each other, and then my eyes catch movement to my right. I turn to see two men kissing passionately right next to us. In public!
One of them isn’t wearing a shirt and the other has very short pants on. In fact, I’m not sure those can be called pants anymore.
The atmosphere is heady and thick with lust, but it’s all just a bit too much for me. I break away from Borja and push my way to a less crowded space where I can catch my breath. A moment later, I feel a hand on my shoulder and swing around to see Borja gazing at me with concerned eyes.
“Are you okay?”
I nod, swallowing to wet my suddenly dry throat. “Just a bit overwhelmed, I think.”
“I get it. We can go.”
“I don’t want to ruin your fun.”
“I’m not having fun if you’re not. Let’s go.”
I want to scream that I was having fun, but I didn’t know what to do with it. I don’t know how to behave or how to sort through the chaotic feelings coursing through me. I don’t interact with people. I don’t have feelings or desires to manage. I didn’t know I could still feel these things.
Borja holds my hand, guiding me through the tight swirl of bodies until we reach the front door and step out into the cool night air. He drops my hand right away, but a little part of me wishes he hadn’t.
He smiles, his eyes full of acceptance without a hint of judgment in them. “This must be a lot for you. I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you.”
“It wasn’t you. Not directly. It was all of it, I think.”
He nods. “Let’s go home. We’ll walk back so you can clear your head.”
I walk next to him, swaying around people also out indulging in the many offerings available.
Envy spreads through me. I want to be as free as these modern people are, but there’s no point.
When this assignment is over, I’ll have to return to my post where I’ll be alone once again.
Is it better to indulge once and lose it, or to abstain completely? I have no idea.
By the time we make it back to Borja’s apartment, my head isn’t any clearer than it was, but the sensation is still pleasant. It’s just light enough to keep my heavy thoughts from dragging me under. Standing in his living room, Borja glances around.
“I’ve got a blanket in the hall closet I can bring you.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you need to borrow something to sleep in?”
Oh. I hadn’t considered that yet. “I can summon something.”
“Or you can borrow a t-shirt.”
“Okay, I’ll try it.”
“Wait right here.”
I sit on the couch while Borja disappears down the hall.
As I remove my shoes, my thoughts drift back to the way it felt to be pressed against him, the manly scent his body produces when he sweats, the way tendrils of his hair clung to his damp forehead and his teeth gently tugged on his bottom lip.
He returns quickly, holding out a large light blue shirt and a blanket. “The couch isn’t so bad. It’s seen better days, but it’s pretty comfy to sleep on.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I take the shirt. “Thank you.”
“Yeah. Make yourself at home. If you need anything you can’t find, let me know.”
“I will.”
Borja smiles, hesitating, then sort of waves as he wanders back down the hallway.
I peel out of my clothes, folding them carefully and setting them on the coffee table before pulling the oversized shirt over my head. Hmm. It’s comfortable, if not odd to have my bare legs uncovered.
Climbing onto the couch, I spread the blanket over me and lie down, staring up at the ceiling. Technically, I could return to the Revival House to rest, but I admit to wanting to stay in the Above as long as I can. I’m sure this experience will help me acclimate new Chasers going forward.
I close my eyes and my mind immediately starts replaying the events of the night, but mostly the way Borja’s body felt against mine. A foreign sensation trickles through me, swirling through my belly, then slipping lower, settling between my legs.
My breath catches as my cock reacts, swelling rapidly. I squeeze my eyes closed, willing the urge to go away, but it only intensifies and I find myself sliding my hand down to touch myself.
I can’t remember the last time I touched myself for anything other than bathing. Did it always feel this good? I’ve forgotten. I squeeze my growing erection and a tiny moan slips out. I can’t let Borja hear me, but I can’t bring myself to take my hand away. It feels amazing.
What would it be like to really touch another man again? To touch Borja? Is he long and lean or short and thick or some blessed combination of all the best qualities? I see him in my mind’s eye, standing before me, naked and hard. In his eyes I see desire, and I nod, inviting him to me.
His weight presses me into the couch, his hot mouth crashing into mine as I explore his body with my greedy hands. Our cocks grind together until Borja breaches my body.
My hand turns sticky as my cock leaks and throbs. My skin is heated, my breath shallow, but I can’t stop. I stroke faster, the friction bordering on too much, but still I persist. My belly twists with tension, my cock twitching.
All I can see is Borja above me, fucking into me, staring down at me with a possessive smile dancing on his lips. His ownership of me is a surprising pleasure, my submission sublime.
Say my name.
“Borja,” I pant. Oh, gods, please.
My cock explodes in my grasp and I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming as pleasure racks my body. I’ve never experienced such intensity, and now I know why mortals are obsessed with the. If it feels this good alone, what would it be like with another person?
Hot, sticky liquid coats my fingers as I fuck into my hand until I’m shivering and too sensitive to take another stroke. I lie spent on the couch, breathing hard, half-naked and very messy, but what a revelation.
A smile tugs at my lips as a lone tear escapes my eye and slides down my cheek. I did that. I’m too drained to be embarrassed or to rush to clean up. I just want to feel this way a little longer.
My eyelids grow heavy for the first time in decades, the allure of sleep quickly dragging me under. I should clean up, but I can’t be arsed to get up and actually do it, so I wipe my hand on the t-shirt and give in to the sweet pleasure of deep rest.