THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Bryce

Written by Lady Poetess
egiggles at moose-mail.com
/~bbp

Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This
story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive.

ONE

Mark Wesley Cotton - Wesley to his friends - looked down on the
man sleeping beside him. He'd done it. He reached out absently and
pushed aside a stray light sandy curl on Bryce Johnson's forehead.
Bryce stirred, opened his eyes, and smiled at Wesley.

"So, are you going to brag about fucking me to your friends now?"

Wesley didn't flinch. "No," he said. "I won't let them make fun of
you."

"You took the trouble to seduce me to win a bet," Bryce pointed
out. He sat up on the bed and studied the other man curiously.

"How did you know about the bet?" Wesley asked.

"I overheard a few of your friends sniggering about it a few days
after we started going out. Why did I keep going out with you? You
assume I'll be offended?" Bryce shrugged. "I want to know what it
is like to sleep with someone with a reputation, someone like you.
I want to be bad for once in my life, and you help me to do that.
Thank you."

"I don't understand," Wesley stammered.

"Well, we've both had what we wanted. You've won, and I've had my
own fun. I'm not angry, Wesley - it is the bet, and how you can
wager my feelings and body for your own fun, that attracted me to
you. I've been a good guy all my life, and just once, I'd like to
know what it's like to be free and uninhibited. You showed me what
it's like, Wesley, and it's glorious." Bryce smiled and touched
Wesley's cheek, but Wesley flinched, unable to believe at what he
was listening. "Come on, Wesley, don't be angry. You and I both
know this is just fun and sex."

"But..." Wesley shook his head, still unable to comprehend this
situation. How could Bryce know of the wager, and more
importantly, what would Bryce do now? Whatever Bryce would do,
Wesley knew that he wouldn't like it. "We had fun, Bryce." Wait,
that didn't sound right. He tried again. "I taught you to speed
and smoke and drink," he said.

"Yeah, like I said, fun stuff," Bryce said.

"And we had sex tonight."

"We fucked, yes." Bryce watched as Wesley winced at his use of the
word. How odd - Wesley used the f word all the time.

"You won't fuck me if you don't want me," Wesley pointed out. "I
know guys like you. You wait until you meet the right guy, and
then you give out."

Bryce scratched his chin, puzzled. "And your point is?" he asked.

"I'm your right guy," Wesley told him. "And you have feelings for
me, that's why you let me fuck you tonight."

Bryce laughed. He laughed until he ran out of breath, and then he
playfully pushed at Wesley's shoulder. "Your ego is amazing, man.
You want me to fall in love with you and then weep and flail
around when you dump me?" he asked between chuckles. "You're
funny, Wesley. Are you so cruel as to expect me to pine for you
after this is over?"

Wesley gave a wounded growl and grasped Bryce's shoulders with
both his hands. "I'm serious, Bryce," he told the other man
urgently. "I stopped thinking of this as a wager long ago. This is
real, damn you. You and me."

"Oh come on," Bryce just said, pushing Wesley's hands away. "Look,
this is crazy. If you want to keep pretending, fine. But I'm
ending this right here. We've had fun, it's been great, but I'm
outta here."

"You can't - "

"Watch me." Bryce pulled on his jeans even as he jumped off the
bed. Slinging his shirt over his shoulder, he evaded Wesley's
grasping hand and walked out of reach. "Bye Wesley, it's been fun
while it lasted." Bryce winked at Wesley's stunned face and shut
the door, leaving Wesley alone.

Something very heavy crashed against the door. Bryce jumped.
Wesley was acting really strange tonight, and Bryce wondered if he
should go back in and see what Wesley was up to. Then, remembering
the wager and Wesley's reputation as a heartless love-'em-leave-
'em type, he decided to just walk on.

It had been fun - he was honest to Wesley in that aspect. But
after tonight, it was he could do to walk away with his heart
still intact. Wesley's fucking him was a big mistake, because the
man was devastating. Weren't men of Wesley's reputation supposed
to be selfish lovers? Wesley was not selfish in the least. He had
used his fingers to tease Bryce's ass pucker to relax in
anticipation of the impending penetration, and Wesley's educated
mouth and tongue had drawn incredible pleasures from Bryce's body,
pleasures Bryce wasn't sure until then existed. Wesley was rough
in his urgent fucking, but he held Bryce tight in a muscular
embrace, and he only came after Bryce had come at least twice.

It was good. But when Wesley held him in his arms afterwards, not
letting Bryce slip out of his embrace even when Bryce tried to,
Bryce was in danger of being moved by Wesley's tenderness.
Wesley's soft whispers of sweetest nothings and his comforting
embrace all weave a deceptive illusion of caring, one that Bryce
was in danger of believing if he didn't end this now and then.

So he ended it. At least, he could walk away with his head held
high, his heart only slightly dented, and with a memory of sex
with a truly bad boy to remember and cherish always. Now he could
return to being good Bryce Johnson, obedient son, loyal friend,
and hardworking employee, with Wesley being his one secret
rebellion safe in his heart to relive and cherish.

The elevator doors closed on him just as Wesley dashed down the
hallway. They missed each other, Wesley frantically pushing at the
buttons before dashing down the stairs. Bryce was already driving
his car out of the car park when Wesley burst through the doors of
the basement car park staircase.

Wesley swung his fist in a careless arc, in frustration, as he
could only stand there and watch Bryce drive away. But this wasn't
over yet, he vowed silently. He'd show Bryce that this wasn't just
a wager. No, this was far from over.




TWO

"Hey, Wesley, so did you - ugh!" Jesse Bradford squeaked as Wesley
lifted him and smashed him against the wall, Wesley's lower arm
pressing against Jesse's throat.

"There is no wager," Wesley snarled. "One more word and I will
crush your throat."

"Hey, cut that out!" Ryan Phillippe said as he tried to push them
apart. Jesse only growled and swung his fist at Wesley, and
Wesley, who was almost a professional football player until he
hurt his knee, easily knocked Jesse onto the floor. "Stop it, you
two," Ryan said again.

"You suggested the wager in the first place," Jesse pointed out
angrily. He rubbed tenderly at his bruised throat. "Fucking
asshole, you made the wager and you boasted that you would fuck
Bryce Johnson, remember? Ryan, you heard him, right? A thousand
dollars that he would do it before the month was out."

"I told you that was a fucked-up idea," Ryan told Wesley, standing
between the man and Jesse to stop any further brawl. "What
happened, Wesley?"

"Nothing," Wesley said tersely. "I've changed the rules. There is
no wager."

"Russell saw Bryce driving away from your place," Jesse sneered.

Wesley cursed, but Ryan held him back from choking the other man.
"You say a word," Wesley began to say.

Jesse gave a shout of laughter. "Ryan, by god, he's bit the big
one!"

"What?" Ryan threw Jesse a questioning glance.

"Look at him! He fucked Bryce, alright, but he's not telling. He's
a goner. The great Wesley Cotton has become the very person he
mocks us for!" Jesse gave a loud hoot. "This is fucking rich!"

Wesley growled and pushed Ryan out of the way as he pounced on the
laughing Jesse. Ryan gave an angry exclamation as he hit his head
hard against the floor, and he too pounced on Wesley. Pandemonium
reigned.

Wesley had his fist lifted high to bring it down on Jesse's face
when he saw Bryce watching him - them - stunned. He hesitated, and
Jesse's fist struck him. He collapsed onto the floor and looked up
at Bryce's concerned face.

"Hi," he said.



"I can't believe you're brawling with your friends like kids in
the schoolyard," Bryce commented as he gently pressed an ice pack
on Wesley's bruised cheek. "But you did make that childish wager -
what do I expect?"

"Don't say that." Wesley spoke with some degree of difficulty, and
his words came out in a slur. "I have to beat the shit out of
Jesse because he's making fun of me."

"Oh? How did he do that?"

"He said that I'm in love with you. Maybe it's true. I don't care
about the wager when I'm with you, Bryce. You make me feel so
happy - don't laugh, please - when we are together, and remember
when I kissed you the first night? It's the best kiss I've had,
because I was laughing when I did that, and with you I sort of
laugh more and it's always a nice, free kind of laugh, you know?"

Bryce managed to find his voice. "Uh, Wesley, I'm... well,
surprised."

"I know you just want the sex."

"Yeah. I think you're cute, but then again, everyone thinks you're
cute." Despite his best judgment, Bryce had to run his fingers
across the wide expanse of Wesley's shoulders. "You're so handsome
and masculine, how can I resist?"

"But you think I suck," Wesley said miserably, although he closed
his eyes and placed his cheek against Bryce's hand, a vulnerable
gesture so at odds with the unrelenting masculine virility he
seemed to project to the world.

"You're a lousy boyfriend," Bryce said.

"I know. I wish I haven't made the bet. If we have met under any
other circumstances, will you be willing to give me a chance?"
Wesley asked.

How did a man like Wesley end up sounding so humbled and afraid?
Bryce wished that he could lie and put Wesley's mind at ease, but
he couldn't. "You're all wrong for me."

"Then don't be my boyfriend," Wesley just said. "Use me, Bryce. If
you want sex, then let me be the one to service you. Please,
Bryce, I don't care what I am to you, just stay with me, please."
His shaking fingers tightened around Bryce's shoulders.

Bryce tried to remove Wesley's fingers from his shoulders, but
Wesley just held on harder. "Wesley" he gasped.

But Wesley only covered his mouth with his.




THREE

He was a goner the moment Wesley kissed him. Bryce's own desires
burned in a white-hot conflagration, and he melted in Wesley's
arms. He kissed the man back, his arms tightening around Wesley's
muscular body, and he lifted them only to let Wesley pull the
shirt off Bryce.

In the urgency of their kisses, Bryce could only pushed his jeans
and shorts down before clumsily straddling Wesley on the chair.
Wesley had his trousers unfastened, his trousers and briefs pushed
down the middle of his thighs, and he pulled off his T-shirt even
as Bryce sat on him and positioned Wesley's throbbing erection
against the vulnerable tight pucker. They both cried out
simultaneously as the cock plunged deep into Bryce's ass. Wesley
drowned in Bryce's hungry kiss as they both began rocking their
hips to the mating rhythm, until the scorching climax took them
both over the edge.

In that moment, Bryce bit into Wesley's shoulder, drawing a little
blood, and Wesley gripped Bryce's thighs hard, holding the man in
place even as he gave a powerful upward thrust in his hips. His
fluids jetted into Bryce's insides, and they never stopped kissing
and tasting each other, their hands roving to learn all they could
about each other's body, even as their desire flared anew.



At the sound of the whistle, the swimmers dived into the pool.
Wesley crossed his arms and watched from the audience's stand,
trying to remain calm and cool, even as he wanted to cheer and
yell for Bryce to win the race. He knew he made an odd pairing for
Bryce Johnson, swim star for his university and a future
electrical engineer. Wesley Cotton never knew a life outside
football until his injuries prevented him from hitting it big, and
he had drifted off into wine, men, and song until Bryce came
along.

He didn't know why or how, and he didn't care. All he cared about
was that he wanted Bryce in his life, because with Bryce, his life
seemed to have some meaning. Everything, from food to music to
sex, seemed more exciting and new when he was sharing it with
Bryce. Even arguing and later apologizing to Bryce seemed to have
more meaning and reason. With this man, he wasn't so angry
anymore.

He shouted, not caring whether Bryce could see or hear him, in
plain exuberance as Bryce hit the second place. It wasn't first
place, true, but Wesley knew that Bryce wouldn't mind. That man
was cool that way - Bryce was literally cool, a fellow that truly
defined the term 'grace under fire'. On their first date, Wesley
had expertly fanned Bryce's desire with subtle flirtations,
touches and looks (Wesley was a pro in making people want him),
but it frustrated him when Bryce just didn't respond like he
should. Now, Wesley knew this side of Bryce - calm, controlled
Bryce who was as cool as a cucumber - and he liked that. When he
was close to losing his temper, Bryce was sensible and that cooled
Wesley down a lot.

Making his way to Bryce, who was being congratulated by his coach
and teammates, Wesley watched appreciatively Bryce's lean swimmer
build, his cock and butt neatly filling the pair of dark blue
Speedos that was only half visible under the long white T-shirt
Bryce had thrown on. Yet no one seemed to notice how gorgeous
Bryce was, judging from how the people around Bryce had nothing
but friendly overtures. Wesley would have had been trying his best
to coax the man out of those delicious trunks by now.

Maybe that was why Bryce seemed so eager to be "bad". Wesley liked
that, just as he liked how it was only he who could see what a
gorgeous catch Bryce was. If there was no one fighting him for
Bryce, that would be good. It would be so different from his
parents' own marriage, where his mother would drive his jealous
father out of his mind that he... well, Wesley was glad he didn't
have to work too hard to keep Bryce to himself and only himself.

"Hi," he said, standing at the doorway of the changing room. It
was only he and Bryce now, the others having long left the place.
"You're amazing."

"Thanks," Bryce said as he stuffed his clothes into his bag. "I'm
surprised you came, as I'm sure swimming isn't your thing, but
thanks for coming."

"I'm your boyfriend, Bryce, of course I'll come watch you," Wesley
pointed out. He walked towards Bryce and pulled a small black felt
box from his pocket. "No, Bryce, this is not a wedding ring. Open
it, come on."

Bryce hesitated, but he couldn't resist. He gasped when he saw the
Rolex. "Wesley, I couldn't take this."

"Why not?" Wesley asked. "Boyfriends give each other presents all
the time, right?"

"This is too expensive," Bryce said. "And serious," he added. "I
thought we're taking this slowly."

Wesley stepped close until his lips were only an inch away from
Bryce's. "With you, I can't do slow, Bryce," he confessed. He
placed his hand on Bryce's chest. "I can't breathe easily until
you tell me you're mine, and even then I will probably spend every
night watching you, me being scared out of my wits that I will
lose you."

Bryce gasped when Wesley slowly pulled the zipper of Bryce's
jacket down, the other hand moving in to knead Bryce's bare flesh.
As Wesley pushed Bryce's jacket off to kiss the slope of Bryce's
shoulder, Bryce whispered that someone might come in and see them.

"Let them see how much I love you, Bryce," Wesley just whispered
between his increasingly urgent kisses. "Yes, I love you, Bryce. I
love you so much."

And Bryce, as his heart skipped, couldn't help but to believe him.




FOUR

"Your Bryce is a nice guy," Jesse Bradford said as he gave up
trying to destroy a Led Zeppelin tune on his guitar to watch his
friends bum around the back room of the club. "He's one of those
strange, Zen-like guys, cool as ice. I just sat down with him and
man, somehow I find myself just talking to him for an hour. He
just listens and nods, and damn if I don't feel good afterwards. I
think you should do the right thing and break it off with him."

Wesley scowled and looked up from his cards. He was in a dark mood
because everyone here knew that Bryce had blown him off tonight
for his friends. Wesley hated the thought of Bryce enjoying
himself with his own friends, not when Wesley himself was finding
it harder and harder to even think straight when Bryce was not
around him.

"I agree," said Michael Owen. "I like him. You will only screw him
up."

"Yeah," Ryan Phillippe chimed in. "Mikey, not that card, man," he
told his best friend as he looked over the other man's cards.
Since Mikey was unable to master poker even after a year of
trying, Ryan would openly flaunt the rules and guided the man in
friendly games.

"I don't think I should even consider you my friends anymore,"
Wesley growled.

"And you have been losing your temper more times since you have
fucked Bryce than in the entire time I know you," Jesse said,
rubbing his now healed cheek deliberately. "That guy is not good
for you. He's turning you into your father."

Ryan and Mikey instinctively pushed their seats back so that they
could flee the room as fast as they could if the need arose.
Wesley had become so still and silent that even Jesse felt
nervous. "I will never be like my father," Wesley's voice cut
through the icy silence that has descended upon the room. "I will
not shoot dead my own wife because I can't control my own
jealousy."

"Just be careful, man," Jesse said. "You're getting so angry so
often nowadays, it's spooking me out."

Wesley cursed and threw down his cards. He rubbed his face wearily
with one hand even as he slammed his other fist onto the table and
ground his knuckles hard, his hand trembling as if he was trying
to control his feelings. Finally, Wesley just stood up and left
the room without another word.

The other three men looked at each other, and then breathed in
relief in unison.



Bryce was pleasantly surprised to see Wesley standing at the exit
of the dance hall. He said an easy goodbye to his friends, telling
them to head off to the diner without him, before walking a little
too eagerly to Wesley. He paused, however, when he saw Wesley's
face.

"I want to punch them all. Your friends, I mean," Wesley said in a
dead monotone as he nonetheless pulled Bryce into his embrace.
"I'm so jealous of everyone who even looks at you, I'm going
fucking out of my mind, Bryce. What shall I do, love? I'm scared
of this anger in me, because did I tell you that my father's still
serving time for killing my mother? He was always suspecting her
of cheating on him, because she was so beautiful and perfect, how
could anyone resist, right? One day he found out that she was
sneaking out in the afternoons while he was at work, and he lost
it and shot her and the man she was meeting dead. As it turned
out, the joke was on him. He was her dancing instructor, and she
was learning to dance so that she and my father could dance during
their twentieth anniversary party."

"Jesus, Wesley," Bryce could only say. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't want to be like him, Bryce, but all these emotions in
me... oh fuck, I'm so scared, Bryce, because I will never hurt
you, you know that, right? But what happens when I just lose it
one day?" Wesley cried. "Like father, like son, right?"

"I don't believe that. You can change, Wesley."

"I beat up Jesse once because of you. And tonight, when they said
that you were too good for me, I could have killed them all right
there, because I was so mad, Bryce. How can you trust me, Bryce,
when I can't even trust myself?"

"Are you saying that I shouldn't see you anymore?" Bryce asked
quietly.

Wesley's arms only tightened around the other man; his body
panicking already at just that very thought. "No," he said. "I
don't know," he amended himself weakly. "What shall I do?" he
finally asked Bryce helplessly.

"Maybe I can start by telling you that I like you, Wesley, a lot.
Maybe if you will quit your promiscuous ways, I'd like you even
better."

"No more other people, Bryce. It's been only you since I met you,"
Wesley declared fiercely. "I know my word doesn't mean much at
this point, but it's just you now, Bryce, now and always."

Bryce just smiled. "You're a charming man, Wesley, and you are
also turning out to be a man after my own heart."

"You mean?" Wesley looked at Bryce hopefully.

"I'm falling in love with you? Sure. I thought a man of your
experience can tell that by now." Bryce rested his left cheek on
Wesley's chest and listen to the tattoo of the man's heartbeat.
"I'm giving you my trust, Wesley, because I love you. It's up to
you to keep it or abuse it. Do you trust me to love you back,
Wesley, or do you believe that your love is so all-consuming that
I will never be able to love you back as much?"

Wesley had no ready answer to that question, and he wouldn't lie
to reassure Bryce. "I love you," he said - that was all he was
certain of. "And I have issues," he added. "I'll see a shrink,
Bryce."

"Well, since we have already said the grand three big words, do
you think you can relax now, Wesley?" Bryce asked gently. "You
always want to rush us into some grand scheme of yours, and you
get frustrated when I can't catch up with you. Sometimes it's not
that I don't care, Wesley, it's that I can't be as fast as you."

"It won't be easy, Bryce," Wesley told him. "You're... well, ice,
and I'm like fire. We don't make sense together. But I don't want
us to make sense. You know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I do. And I never expect this to be easy, Wesley." He
inhaled Wesley's scent, loving the man's unique fragrance. Bryce
finally eased himself away from Wesley, and smiled at the man. "My
place is nearer from here than yours."

"Let's go," Wesley agreed, and taking Bryce's hand in his, they
walked down the street. The lights shone down on them, as if they
were illuminating their walk down the stage of life. Wesley looked
at the man beside him then up at the skies, not certain what he
was looking for, before settling back to Bryce's face. He didn't
know whether he would be able to make Bryce as happy as Bryce
deserved to be or where they would be a year or ten years down the
road, but for them, he'd do his best to believe. To believe and to
do his best and hardest to make sure that this story went from its
ignoble start into a happily ever after.

After all, sometimes that was all one could do in this damned
fucked-up life.