My Father's Lover Page 6

  “Mike, focus. You did good, right, in the money department?”

  “Yeah, I’m rolling in dough, only problem is, like I said, this Anthony guy controls everything.”

  “For only two years though.”

  “Yeah, but we don’t get along. It’s going to seem like ten.”

  “Well, it’s worth waiting it out, right? Mike?”

  “Yeah, it is. Listen. I definitely got to go. Just saw something I liked…a lot, and he’s heading for the back room. Got to get in there before someone else beats me to him.”

  “Okay, go for it, stud. Call soon.”

  “You’re coming out, you and Dougie?”

  “Say the word. I remember that little threesome we had. God, that was hot.”

  “Yeah, I want to do it again, man. There’s a great hot tub at the house. Okay, that’s it, talk later,” Michael said goodbye, and hung up. That guy he had just spotted had disappeared. He put his cell phone in his pocket and walked through the crowd of men, and headed straight for the back room.

  The doorway was separated from the rest of the bar by a string of heavy beads. As Michael moved them aside, he thought about how much he needed to just let loose. The last few days had been extremely tense, and his stomach had been acting up. He knew there was a lot he kept beneath the surface, a lot which he didn’t even want to take out and look at.

  The lighting dimmed considerably as he found himself on the other side of the room divider. His ears were suddenly filled with the sounds of men grunting with pleasure, or whimpering, pleading…it was like a symphony. Now if he could just find that hot looking man he’d seen walk in here. Although he had only seen him from a distance, there was no mistaking that he was tall, with a great ass, and long, shiny dark hair. He had the body of a god. He had to be here somewhere, unless someone had already snapped him up. Guys with bodies like that weren’t alone long.

  Michael’s eyes adjusted to the faint light, and now he could make out bodies, some of them naked, others half dressed. Some men in two’s, some in three’s, others were just wandering around, checking each other out. He forged on, stopping to admire the men he passed on the way. None of them was the one he was looking for. Then, he stopped, and caught his breath as he saw him standing there against the wall. Although he couldn’t quite make out his features, he recognized the bodybuild. There were two guys heading straight for him, but Michael knew he wanted that, and he didn’t intend for anyone to get in his way.

  He brushed past one of the guys, and walked straight up to the one he wanted, who was pressed against the wall. He reached out and placed a hand on his groin. Yes, it was direct, but the message was clear. “Hello,” he said. “I saw you come in here and…I thought that you had a great ass. I have to have that ass. I have to have you.”

  “To do what, exactly?”

  That voice. Michael knew that voice. He blinked, then, hastily removed his hand from his groin. “Jesus Christ. Anthony?”

  Anthony stood upright now. He moved his face closer to his. “Hello, Mike, fancy meeting you here.”

  “Fuck,” Mike said under his breath. He turned around and stalked out. When he turned around, he saw Anthony behind him, a big smirk on his face. “You find this funny?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “Because you’re embarrassed?”

  “I’m not embarrassed. What in hell are you doing here?”

  “The same thing as you, I suppose, trying to get laid.”

  Michael opened his mouth, then, closed it.

  “Anything else you want to know?” When Michael didn’t answer, Anthony said, “Well, since it looks like neither one of us is going to get any tonight, let me buy you a drink.”

  Michael shrugged. “Why not? You’re the one with all the money.”

  Anthony quirked an eyebrow, then headed for the bar. They sat together side by side on the bar stool, both drinking, hardly talking. Anthony spoke to the bartender and a few other people he knew. Finally after they’d both drank a few too many, Michael suggested they go home.

  “You go ahead. I’m going to try again.”

  “In the back room?”

  “Yeah, in the back room. You got a problem with that?”

  “Well, what about Jason? He’s probably waiting for you at home.”

  “Are you obsessed with Jason, or something?”

  “No, unless you want to share him.”

  “Get serious.”

  Michael laughed. “Kind of tough since I’m drunk. Jason told me this morning he was making dinner for you.”

  “He did. So?”

  “Was it good?”

  “Yeah. It was fine.”

  “And he got nothing in return?” Michael smirked, finishing his beer.

  “I gave him one blow job for dinner, and another for dessert. Happy?”

  “But you didn’t fuck him. Did he burn the meatloaf?”

  “We didn’t have meatloaf.” Anthony slid down off the bar stool and headed for the back room again.

  Michael followed him across the floor, and through the beads. “You must be good at it.”

  “Good at what?” Anthony stopped suddenly, and glared at him in the dim light.

  “Cock sucking.”

  “Since you’re so fucking interested in my cock sucking skills, why don’t you hang around and find out?”

  “If my father and his lover were still around, I could ask them, or was it only my father you fucked?” Michael felt a hand reach out and grab him, and slam him against the wall. He actually laughed a little. “Going to show me, baby?”

  Anthony’s face was close to his now, he could feel his breath on his cheek, feel his chest pressing against his. A hand snaked down to his jeans, brushing across his groin. Michael’s heart hammered in his chest. His cock stiffened. He couldn’t remember ever being this turned on.

  “What do you want from me, Michael?”

  “Right now, what do you think I want? If you’re not a chicken shit, that is. I don’t mind a little rough trade.”

  Anthony undid the snap at the top of Michael’s jeans, then, there was the distinct sound of his zipper coming down. It seemed to echo throughout the room, which now appeared to be half empty. Michael’s mouth went dry as cool fingers reached in and pulled his erection out of his jeans. He heard Anthony’s breathing grow shallow, felt his fist tighten around his cock. He could hardly breathe. “Well, are you going to hold it all night, or are you going to do something with it?”

  Anthony released his cock, and for a minute, Michael stood still, thinking he was just going to walk away. Don’t walk away. Don’t leave me like this, you bastard. Michael closed his eyes, then, took a quick intake of breath as two hands grabbed the waistband of his jeans. Anthony pushed Michael’s jeans down to the floor, his underwear came with it. The fist wrapped around his cock again. Michael made a sound in his throat. Two strong hands on his hips whirled him around so that he was facing the wall. He struggled when he felt hands press against his shoulders. “I think this is rape,” he muttered.

  Warm lips moved against his cheek, as every inch of Anthony’s body pressed against his. “I’m not going to rape you, Mike, and from the size of your cock,” he said, reaching around and squeezing it in his hand, “you’re lovin’ every minute of it. What’s that old expression? You can’t rape the willing?”

  “I hate you,” Michael seethed.

  “So I gathered, which means I guess I’m not going to get down on my knees and suck your cock.” He pressed his groin now against Michael’s naked ass a few times in a motion that was difficult to misinterpret. He began to stroke Michael’s cock with his hand, making sure that Michael felt his erection pressing against his buttocks.

  Michael turned his face into the wall to keep himself from moaning. He might never find out about the sucking, but Anthony sure had the moves. When he felt his ass cheeks being opened and a finger move up inside of him, he couldn’t help but let out a deep gr
oan.

  “Now, baby,” he whispered again against his cheek, driving his finger deeper, and increasing the stroke on his cock, “we don’t have to like each other, but we have to live together. Let’s try to do that without killing each other, shall we? Do you agree, Michael?”

  Michael was moaning in earnest now, the pressure on his prostate along with the fondling of his genitals was taking him to the edge. He was going to come, whether he wanted to or not. “I do, I do,” he pleaded, his entire body trembling.

  The stroking stopped abruptly, and the finger retreated, just when he was about to come. It was clear Anthony knew his way around a cock. “You fuck,” he croaked, turning around now and wrestling to get his pants back up.

  Anthony had backed off of him. He stood there, inches away, arms folded across his chest. “Sorry, my timing’s off, I guess.”

  Michael did up his pants and gave him a shove. “Get the fuck out of my way.”

  “The bar’s closing,” Anthony said casually, following him out of the room. “Want a ride home?”

  “I want my own fucking car,” Michael growled, pushing his way out of the bar. “You can’t deny me a car unless you want to be my bloody chauffeur for two years.”

  “You’re in a foul mood.”

  Michael glared at him, now able to see his face. “Smug bastard. Why didn’t you just belt me again? I’d prefer it.”

  “That can be arranged,” he muttered, reaching for the keys in his pocket. “You want a ride, or not?”

  “Keep your hands off of me. Don’t touch me again.”

  Anthony laughed, getting in the car, then, reached over to open the door for Michael.

  “That was mean and sadistic.”

  “Are you going to continue this all the way home?”

  “Yes. I am. You did that on purpose.”

  “You’re the one who followed me into that room. You’re the one who insists on insinuating that I am some kind of gold-digging prostitute who spent his time fucking your father and his…”

  “What do you expect me to think?” Michael muttered.

  “How about maybe…just maybe two gay men can love each other enough to not want anyone else in their bed, and respect the fact that they loved me like a son.”

  “Men don’t…it’s not the same as with a woman. We need sex and variety. Gay men…”

  “Well, talk to those men out there who want to get married. What do you think the fight for equal rights is all about, Michael, so that we can fuck strangers every night in a dark room?”

  “Youth is important in the gay culture, and male beauty. You haven’t been out there in the…”

  “Oh fuck, spare me. I’ve been out there. It’s okay if that’s what you want. That’s not what your father and Daniel were about. They loved each other. They were faithful to each other.”

  Michael stared out the window. The tension was thick. Finally just before they pulled into the driveway, Michael said, “Okay, I’ll tell you what. Even though I may not believe that there was nothing sexual going on, I won’t mention it any more, okay?”

  Anthony laughed harshly as they drove into the garage. “Sure, Michael, whatever. You can add that to the list of things you promise not to mention.” Anthony stopped the car, and looked at him. “What I believe is this…you have a lot of issues you haven’t dealt with, and they’re buried so deep, they may never come to surface. You’re angry and bitter, and the only one you can take that anger out on, is me. Well, you know what, I’m at an all-time low right now, so watch your step with me, and don’t push me, Michael. There’s only so much of your crap I’m going to take. If you push, I’ll push back, hard.”

  Michael bit his bottom lip. Anthony’s eyes were as hard as steel. “Well, let the chips fall where they may.”

  Anthony sighed, opened the car door, and disappeared into the house.

  Chapter Four

  Much to Anthony’s relief, the club reopened on schedule. Everyone was really hustling all day to get ready on time. There was this unspoken feeling in the air which everyone was aware of, but no one was talking about. It permeated everything.

  Jason was still a little miffed at Anthony for the other night, and Anthony didn’t quite know how to talk to him about it, so he didn’t. Hopefully he’d get over it. He had left to go out to the bar straight after they’d finished supper, only because he felt a little uncomfortable being alone with Jason. He was getting some heavy duty vibes from him.

  Michael seemed nervous tonight. He’d been distant the last two days, but that was okay. Anthony told himself he didn’t have the time or energy to worry about how everyone was feeling all the time. He was having a hard enough time dealing with the emptiness he felt deep inside of him.

  The fact that this would be the first time Impressions would open without Michael weighed heavily on everyone’s mind. Michael was the star of the show. He inspired everyone, especially Juan, who’d been with Michael since the beginning.

  When Anthony finally had a minute to slow down, he went into the dressing room. It was empty except for Juan. The others were in the other room, drinking coffee. “Hey,” Anthony said, sitting down beside him, “you don’t have your makeup on yet.”

  Juan gazed at him, then lifted a hand and touched Anthony’s cheek. “I’m afraid to ruin it. I want to cry. In fact, I think if I start crying, I won’t stop. I’m so sad, Anthony. I’m so damn sad.”

  “I know. Me too. We have to do this. After tonight, it will get easier.”

  “You think? You know, I want to kill the bastards. I’m so full of rage. They have no idea what they took from us.” The tears flowed down Juan’s cheeks. “How can they hate like that? What did Michael ever do to them? He was the kindest soul on…”

  Anthony bent down and drew Juan against him. “Cry if you want. Cry for me, okay? Get it out, sweetie. It’s okay.”

  “We need a signature for a delivery,” a voice said suddenly, causing Anthony to look up. Michael was standing there. “You can sign. Tell them you’re assistant manager.”

  “I forgot what I have to mark in the book.”

  “Sign and I’ll do the book,” he said, smiling at Juan as they drew apart. Juan picked up a pot of stage makeup.

  When Anthony came out of the dressing room, he walked over to Michael, and asked him if he had put the reserved signs on the tables he’d mentioned to him earlier.

  “I did. I gave the list to the doorman.”

  “Thanks,” Anthony said, looking around. “Place is filling up.”

  “A lot of straight people.”

  “How can you tell?” Anthony asked him, giving him an ironic look, and leaving Michael without an answer.

  * * * * *

  Michael watched the performances without emotion. The spectators applauded wildly. Anthony spoke with many of the patrons during the evening. They offered their sympathies and congratulated him on reopening the club so quickly.

  He also took time to introduce Michael to what he called the “regulars,” and then led him back to the office to show him how to keep track of some of the money, reminding him to lock it in the safe. When he heard Juan mention his father’s name, Michael walked out of the office and stood next to the bar, watching.

  “Michael,” Juan said into the microphone, “was my best friend. Impressions was all about Michael. We have been trying to do some of Michael’s favourites tonight, but we can’t do them like he could. He was a real star. Over these last few days, we were trying to find a way to honour him. The one thing that Michael and Daniel liked to do was to shoot movies.” He laughed. “Every time we were invited over to their house, we knew that somewhere along the line, we’d end up watching them on video. Back then, we dreaded it, now we --” He paused. “-- we are so grateful. So, with Anthony’s blessing, and a technical person, we put together some of the best of Michael and Daniel. Have a look.”

  Michael watched the images with awe. It was as if he was seeing the man who was his father for the first time. He
wasn’t performing in these pictures. He was just living. He saw him at the house with Daniel, playful, loving, at celebrations, surprise parties, on a boat, on a beach in some tropical paradise, with Anthony and Jason. Moments from the life of a father he never knew, he never bothered to know. He swallowed something painful in his throat. “Daddy,” he whispered in the noisy club. Images of his father holding him as a baby flashed in his head, phrases from his many letters… I love you son…I’ve always loved you…you are my whole world…please write me…I’m sending you this ticket and…

  His eyes filled with tears, blocking out the images on the large screen in front of the club. He could still see himself ripping that ticket into little pieces. He walked past the bar and into the back room. It wasn’t fair; none of it was fair. His father had his life here with Daniel, and Anthony, and…and what? It had been his own fault. He could have come out here, gotten to know him, shared in all that love and happiness…but Anthony had been here in his place.

  “Are you all right?” a voice asked suddenly.

  “What do you care?” Michael asked, sniffing, wiping his eyes with his fingers.

  There was no answer.

  Michael turned around and looked at Anthony. “What was it like, being with him? Being with them?”

  “Fun, loving.” He smiled. “But it wasn’t always perfect. They had their fights. Your dad was jealous.”

  “Of Daniel?” Michael laughed through his tears.

  “Yeah. Daniel could be a bit of a flirt, and he was wickedly good looking. Your father could be a pain sometimes, possessive.” He laughed. “It wasn’t always roses and sunshine, but it was real.”

  “They looked happy.”

  “They were. They really loved each other.”

  “I saw that on the screen. That kind of thing doesn’t happen often.”