THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Cameron

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

Christien Anholt was often amused whenever people found out that
he lived next door to the very one and only Cameron Mathison.
Cameron was dashing, roguish, an unrepentant playboy, and
everything sexual and charismatic. How could Christien not even a
bit attracted to that man?

Well, he would say with a small smile, it was very easy to outgrow
one's crush on a man who didn't seem to know the definition of
commitment or fidelity. How about lust, they would ask. Why
wouldn't any sane gay guy want to snag that irresistible Cam if
only for one wild night? To this, Christien would just shrug and
say that he wasn't looking for wild no-strings-attached sex at the
moment.

They didn't understand, and Christien didn't bother to make them
understand.

If Cam fit the stereotype of a high-flying society playboy,
Christien was a typical scholar. He had long given up trying to
build his body hence he was lanky and skinny. He rarely smiled or
went out only once a week, preferring to spend his time reading in
bed, a cup of hot coffee at hand and Garth Brooks playing in the
background. His few close friends called him Bookworm, but Cam
called him Colt - a combination of his two names. Calling him Colt
was an easy, non-sexual gesture on Cam's part. After all, they
were neighbors, and neighbors sometimes had to borrow sugar from
each other.

That Friday night he was wearing his most comfortable pair of
loose T-shirt and running shorts under his sheets and singing
along to Celine Dion as he turned the pages of the new Amelia
Peabody book, when he heard the knock on the door. He glanced at
the clock and frowned. Who would bother him at nine in the night?

He knew the answer as he carefully sauntered towards the door.
Cameron Arthur Mathison. His name was one for the kings, and the
man behaved like it. He bought the three apartments on this floor,
knocked down the walls, remodeled, and refurbished them into one
large penthouse, but for a penthouse, it seemed to lack sugar,
eggs, milk, and other necessities one would expect Cam to stock
up. Then again, Cam hardly used his place for eating and drinking.
That penthouse was his den of debauchery, if the line of different
men coming in and out of Cam's door every week was any indication.

"Slut," he once called Cam.

"Bookworm," Cam responded easily.

Now, Christien opened the door and frowned at Cam. "Sugar? Eggs?"
he asked curtly. "You know I don't like being disturbed on
Fridays."

Cameron was gorgeous. No, he was stunning. He enraged his father
by taking the catwalk after he dropped out of high school, and
until today, he was still a popular face. Even after seven years
since he retired from the catwalk to start his own health food
line, his chiseled stomach and rugged face still graced many
billboards, posters, and of course, websites. But he also had a
brain, if his successful Health Mathison line was any indication.
Although they did say that it was Cam's business partner Nicholas
Wechsler who was the brain behind the operations and Cam just lent
his pretty face for product placement.

Christien wasn't sure. Sometimes Cam displayed a keen intelligence
that took him by surprise, for example, Cam could solve any
crossword puzzle coming his way under twenty minutes. The man once
disparaged a "lousy kids' puzzle book" in Christien's bookstore
because he could solve every cryptic puzzle in it - and Christien
never told him that the book was actually a collection of classic
World War 2 cryptology codes. Sometimes Christien wondered if the
great English cryptologist Alan Turing would find a worthy match
in Cameron Mathison if Turing were still alive today. It wasn't
difficult to imagine that Cam's analytical skills could easily be
applied to his business.

It was Cam's striking, rugged handsome looks that made people
unable to take him seriously. Right now, he was standing before
Christien in a black mesh shirt that displayed his gloriously
muscled physique to devastating efficiency. Christien took an
inadvertent step back as Cam seemed to dominate the space and him
without much effort.

"You have some rubber?" Cam asked, his deep brown eyes now taking
on a deliberate sad puppy look that made saying no to him so hard.

"No," Christien admitted honestly.

"Come on, man, I have someone waiting in my place, and I'm out of
rubber," Cam asked urgently.

"I'm sure he's willing to wait if you run to the nearest
drugstore," Christien told him reasonably. "I really don't have
any, Cam. This is me remember? The guy who has never gotten any
since George W Bush became President?"

"Two years?" Cameron exclaimed. "My God, how could you stand it?"

"A good book, a great movie, and good music," Christien told him.
"I'm just not a very sexual person, I guess."

Cam shook his head. "Never mind. I'll dash to the drugstore."



It was at eleven o' clock, just as Christien was in the midst of
brushing his teeth before he tucked in for the rest of the night,
when he heard the knock on the door. Again? He hastily cleaned up.

"What is it?" he asked rather crossly when he opened the door.
"That fast?" he couldn't help commenting wryly.

"I can't even fuck in peace and that's your fault," Cam said as he
leaned one hand against the doorway. That pose was probably
unconscious on his part - no wonder there were people who thought
him vain.

"My fault?"

"I don't understand how you could be celibate for two years," Cam
said.

Christien fought the urge to scratch his head. "And that puzzles
you? I told you, I don't think I'm a very sexual guy. I rarely
feel the urge to have sex just for the heck of it. There have to
be the right things first."

"Like what? Candlelight, flowers, expensive gifts?" Cam asked,
looking genuinely befuddled.

"No." Damn, Cam looked so sexy with his stubble. Christien wanted
so badly to run his fingers on that square jaw. The notion that
too many men had done so was the only thing that held him back.
"I'm thinking of trust, respect, and commitment."

"Commitment." Cam made a disparaging sound. "You're kidding."

"No," Christien told him. "I'm serious."

"There's no such thing as commitment."

"Just because your parents divorced and made a public media circus
out of it doesn't mean love and romance don't exist," Christien
told him gently. "It's just a matter of whether you're looking for
them, I guess."

"So are you a virgin?" Cam asked.

Taken aback by the blunt question, Christien blurted, "No, of
course not."

"See? That means you have had broken affairs before," Cam pointed
out in satisfaction. "How can you say that there's a thing called
love when you can't find it?"

"Who says we can find love the first time we look for it?"
Christien told him, slightly annoyed by the man's condescension
now. "My ex-boyfriend and I broke up because we both knew that
things weren't working out."

Cam ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation, another
unconscious but sexy gesture. "But surely you can't keep believing
such crap," he remarked.

"I think you are trying too hard to disbelieve such crap,"
Christien pointed out gently.

"Oh?"

"Look at your lifestyle, Cam. You keep changing sexual partners
day and night, never even letting them get close to you to start
anything. I think you don't want to look for love, and I think
it's not fair for you to mock me for my beliefs."

"I'm not mocking you," Cam told him. "I'm just confused."

Christien couldn't help but to smile at that. "Don't be, Cam. I'm
not unhappy being alone, really. I have my books, music, and those
are enough for now. One day, perhaps, I'll find the right guy."

"But if you don't?"

"Then I can at least say that I tried."

Cam was looking at him now as if he couldn't understand what he
was seeing. "I... shit."

"Go back to your date," Christien suggested. "And have fun."

"I sent him home. You confused me so much it doesn't seem right at
all to fuck when poor you aren't getting any for two years. two
years. Jesus." He gave Christien a deep, piercing look that
threatened to smite him with lust. "Say, Colt, you want to fuck?"

Christien laughed. "Are you feeling sorry for me now? Don't be,
please. I'm happy where I am, trust me. Besides, I don't do no-
strings-attached sex, Cam. I've outgrown that after high school,
when I learn that more often than not, my heart gets broken as a
result." He placed his palm on Cam's chest and felt the man's
heart beat steadily, the soft, pulsing rhythm emanating in gentle
vibrations from Cam's warm skin to his. "And you will break my
heart, Cam. So goodnight."

"Colt, I - "

Christien closed the door and locked it, making sure that Cam
could hear that. Only then did his knees give way and he exhaled
heavily. He would never tell Cam how close he was to saying yes to
that man. Really, that devil was too seductive for his own good!



TWO

Christien was locking up his store a few days later when Cam
steadily walked up and took his arm without much graciousness and
forced him to walk beside the man.

"Cameron!" Christien protested as he tried to keep up with the
man. "Hey, slow down."

So Cam did. "I need your help," he said.

"Okay, shoot," Christien said, and pried Cam's fingers from his
arm.

"I have a problem with a rather clingy boyfriend."

"Ah," Christien remarked. "He wants a commitment."

"Yeah," Cam said, his expression one of pleased satisfaction as he
saw that Christien could understand his dilemma. "I told him no, I
stopped answering his calls, but he just won't give up. I have to
be ruthless."

As if he wasn't in the first place? But Christien just nodded.

"I want you to pretend to be my lover, and get caught in bed with
me," Cam said. "Please? He'll drop by this Friday, and I want us
to be in bed, looking as if we have just had some great fuck. That
will drive him away for good."

"And why should I help you?" Christien pointed out. "I'm feeling
rather sorry for this persistent guy, actually. Can't you get
someone from your... um, black book of conquests?"

"You don't think much of me, do you?" Cam asked abruptly.

"Honestly? Not much," Christien admitted. "You're a nice guy, Cam,
but if this guy gets the wrong idea, maybe it's because you send
the wrong signals to him."

"Maybe because he's a dumb fool like you," Cam corrected him
bluntly. "I made it clear to all my lovers that there will be
nothing serious out of it - just great sex and good fun. It's not
my fault if he expects something more, is it?"

"What made you so bitter?" Christien exclaimed. When Cam made to
answer, he quickly told him, "That's a rhetorical question."

"So you will never fall in love with me. That's perfect, you are
the right guy to help me out here," Cam finally said. "Please,
Colt?"

"Oh, alright." He couldn't see the harm in it. Perhaps he would be
helping a fellow optimist steer away from an obvious Mr Wrong like
Cameron Mathison. "But just once," he told Cam, not wanting to be
drawn into Cam's messy love life.

Cam's smile was still the most beautiful sight Christien had ever
seen. Christien sensed that he had just made a grave mistake,
agreeing to help Cam, for as long as his heart beat and he could
feel, he might not be so invulnerable to Cam as he would liked to
believe.



"How's business?" Edward Kerr asked.

"Fine."

Christien's store would be eaten up by chain bookstores like
Barnes and Noble a long time ago if he hadn't created a niche for
himself. His store was called rather unimaginatively the Book
Chamber when he started out, but eventually his clients called the
store by his name rather than the Book Chamber. If one wanted rare
editions and obscure literature, they would go to Christien Anholt
rather than to the Book Chamber. When his first batch of business
cards ran out, Christien removed the Book Chamber from the second
printing and just left his name instead. He liked to think that
his name would one day be synonymous with the book collectors'
market, just like Christie's was with prestigious auctions, but
that would probably still be a long time coming. Right now his
store was just doing okay, enough to keep him in business and his
reputation among the book collectors sterling enough. If his late
father knew that his history degree would finally be of use, that
man wouldn't have nagged Christien so much. His father never
forgave Christien for choosing history over the long established
tradition of Anholt men becoming esteemed plumbers serving New
Yorkers since 1942.

Still, he was close to his family. His grandparents still prayed
in church that he would be redeemed and stop being gay and there
were some uncles and aunts that wouldn't speak to him after he
came out, but other than that, he got along fine with his strong
Catholic family members. His mother often called and he visited
them for Christmas and Thanksgiving.

As he was the youngest in his family and was surrounded by much
older people since his childhood days, he was most comfortable
with such people. When he ventured out in his rare social
excursions, such as now, it was with his friends who were much
older than he. Edward Kerr and his partner Billy Campbell, the
partners Mitch Pileggi and Robert Patrick, and Jeffrey Nordling
were at least twelve years older than he was, but he liked their
company. He met them through Jeffrey, a science-fiction aficionado
who often came to his store for rare editions of 1930s pulp
science-fiction books. (It amused most of Jeffrey's acquaintances
that the man was sleeping with a much younger man, but the way
Christien saw things, a science-fiction fan and a comic book fan
seemed like a match made in heaven.) Eventually Christien found
himself joining them for their weekly bowling games. He couldn't
bowl, but he was learning. Besides, Ed and Patrick couldn't bowl
either, so he was in good company.

He chatted with Ed, and when it was his turn, sent a bowling ball
into the pit.

"Nice shot," came Cameron Mathison's voice.

"What are you doing here?" he asked that man in surprise.

"We're supposed to be lovers, right? So I'm here to see my beloved
play," Cam said cheekily and Ed choked in the background.

"We're not lovers," Christien pointed out. "We're just neighbors."

Cam just grinned irreverently and took a bowling ball out of the
bag he was carrying. "Mind if I join you guys?"



"Great, now everybody thinks we are involved," Christien grumbled
as he sat with Cameron that night in the 24 hour cafeteria long
after the rest of the guys have gone home. "When we 'break up',
there will be many uncomfortable questions I have to face." He saw
Cam's face and asked, "What's so funny?"

"It's just that this is the first time anyone ever behave as if
sleeping with me is such an ordeal," Cam said, chuckling. "It's a
very humbling experience."

"Well, the guys like you," Christien offered.

"Yeah, and I think only Billy and Ed recognize me, but only
because they work in the advertising business," said Cam. "And I
think I like that."

"So you'll be joining us next week?" Christien asked.

"Sure. If I don't have a date."

Christien laughed. "Ah, dates come first huh?"

"No," Cam said, surprising Christien. "My business comes first,
actually." He pushed aside the newspaper where he was fiddling
with the crossword puzzle. "I made Health Mathison where it was,
and I fucking started from scratch when only Nick believed in me
enough to invest his funds in me. It's probably hard to believe,
but there are nights when I spend hours poring over papers or
books or proposals instead of having wild orgies in my place."

"I know. I'm just teasing, Cam."

"But I want you to know, Colt, that I'm not that dumb lug they all
believe me to be. Even now, banks won't even talk to me. I have to
get Nick to do all the PR and negotiations, and they think that
he's the brains as a result." Cam sighed. "I did as much as Nick
in this business. It was my idea, my baby damn it. A no-nonsense,
no bullshit health product line where even grandmothers can
understand and decipher the jargons. So what if I don't have a Ph
D after my name? I read, I talk to nutritionists and food
scientists, and I know my stuff. And if I don't, I make sure I ask
from the right people for advice. But in the end, I'm still
Cameron Mathison, the pretty playboy who should just shut up and
stand in a corner, shirtless for the world to ogle at. I. shit." A
sheepish look crossed Cameron's face as he stopped himself in mid-
rant. "I'm sorry, Colt. I didn't mean to dump on you like that."

"No, it's okay," Christien assured him. "I never thought you as a
dumb pretty boy, honest. Pretty, yes, dumb, never."

"I believe you." Cam's eyes were dark depths of seductive mystery.
"Because I think you're the kind of guy who can't lie to save his
life."

"Really?" asked Christien, curious at Cam's perspective of him.

"I know guys like you. In fact, my business partner Nick was just
like you, I think. He tells me that he spends his entire childhood
scared of talking to people because he was shy. Oh, Nick would be
very eloquent if he had to be, but even now, that man rarely
mingles with people. Most of his friends were the friends of his
boyfriend Danny."

"You find that romantic?" Christien asked teasingly.

"I think Nick's lucky he found a friend in Danny. You want me to
say that they made me believe in love?" Cam shook his head. "You
know what I see in Nick and Danny? Danny is the center of Nick's
existence. Three months ago, Danny and Nick had a big fight and
Danny ended moving out to stay over with a friend for two days. It
was just two days, but Nick just lost it."

"Lost it?"

"Yeah. He just lost it. Nick is always a quiet man, but the moment
Danny was gone, he just stopped caring. He would come to the
office with reddened eyes, but he will never admit that he had
been crying or not sleeping. Then he beat up some guy he thought
was seeing Danny (and the guy wasn't), and I had to bail him out
and persuaded the man not to press charges. I'll never forget how
Nick was when I came to bail him out. He was just lying there in
that cell, not moving, just staring in the shadows. That's love,
Christien. If it isn't making you hurt, it's killing you inside."

"So did Nick and Danny make up?" asked Christien quietly.

"Yeah. I drove up to Danny's place on the third day and told at
him that if he let petty nonsense get between them both, he was a
complete moron. I dragged him back to see how pathetic Nick had
become, and they both broke down and started crying like some bad
daytime soap actors." Cam shuddered. "But it worked. They were
still together."

"Cam, you are a romantic," Christien said, placing his hand
briefly over Cam's. "You helped those two get back together. My
hero."

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not. I'm touched that despite what you thought about love,
you tried to make your friend happy."

"Nick is my friend, and he believes in me when no one else does.
That is important to me, Colt." Cam squeezed Christien's hand.
"Trust and friendship, not love."

And sleeping with Cam would be fastest way to lose the man's trust
and friendship, Christien knew instinctively. Pity for the man
welled in him, because he felt that Cam's way of thinking was
wrong entirely. And maybe there was some slight disappointment as
well, although he tried not to dwell on that.



THREE

Cameron Mathison once wrote a letter to the New York Times,
complaining that the crossword puzzles were too easy. He learned
later that the editors thought the letter was a joke and tossed it
aside. Cameron Mathison having a vast vocabulary, much less doing
crossword puzzles? What a joke, right?

Since he was a kid, he loved puzzles. He also loved reading, and
it was a secret that only he and his optician knew that he wore
contacts. Maybe hiding all that when he was in high school and was
the most popular kid was a mistake, but by then it was too late.
He led himself to believe that his looks were all he had going for
him, and the damage was done.

Many didn't understand why he liked his shy, scholarly neighbor.
But Cam, who was always good with puzzles, knew right away the
reason: with Colt, he wasn't made to feel that it was a crime to
prove that he had a brain in his pretty head. Labels didn't have
much meaning on Colt, maybe because Colt was stuck with a label
himself.

Poor Colt, the idealistic geek, was far from handsome and was
probably one of the more less cool kids in school. Cam wouldn't
have given Colt any time of day back then, but he was a smarter
man now. He left LA and Paris because he was tired of being
treated like a brainless piece of meat, and he knew a friend who
could treat him with respect when he saw one.

It was too bad that Colt insisted on all that love shit. Cam
wasn't joking when he asked Colt if Colt would like to be fucked
by him. It wasn't any hardship to fuck Colt, hell, Cam had fucked
too many guys he didn't even like a bit. Fucking someone he
genuinely liked, like Colt? That would be no difficulty at all. He
even looked forward to it, if Colt would let him.

Fortunately for him, Nicholas Wechsler opened the door of his
office in an invitation for lunch before his thoughts dwelled too
much on the idea of fucking Colt for comfort.

"I like Colt," he said aloud when Nick was waiting for the waiter
to hand him back his credit card.

"Who's that? Some Playgirl model?"

"No, you ass. My neighbor." Cam saw Nick light a cigarette and
frowned. Nick's smoking was one habit Cam couldn't persuade the
man to give up. Danny taught Nick to smoke. Another reason that
love sucked: it would give you lung cancer.

"Oh, that one. You think seeing you in bed with him will stop
David Fumero from bothering you?"

"Yes." Cam automatically winced at that name. David Fumero, his
most serious lover to date, hadn't taken his breaking off their
relationship well at all. He liked David, and their sex was good,
but he had to break it off, because David, a fellow ex-model and
ex-soap star, was holding him back. David laughed at his dreams,
and Cam couldn't accept that. He wanted to start anew, and if he
had to lose David, so be it.

"I think you are looking for any excuse to sleep with him."

"Maybe," Cam admitted. "But he won't let me."

Nick chuckled. "I think we've found one of the rarest specimens on
earth: a gay man who doesn't want to even imagine himself sleeping
with the great Cameron Mathison. Wait, he's gay right?"

"Yes." Not that it mattered, for Cam had a few supposedly die-hard
straight guys in his too-long list of conquests. "He's cute. A bit
thin and wears those nerdy looking glasses, reads a lot..."

"Oh, that guy who came to my party, sat in a corner, and read
Sebastian Faulks?"

"That's the one." Cam grinned at the memory.

"Danny was amazed that this Colt guy could actually ignore
everyone and just read there and then. He fancied himself a great
host, so Danny was still rather miffed about that. And you want to
sleep with him."

"I've slept with worse guys before," Cameron said. "In fact, I
wouldn't call what I did with some guys 'sleep' - too nice an
euphemism for the whole sordid fucking for all the wrong reasons."

Nick looked at Cam curiously. "I never thought I'd see the day you
will actually say that there is a wrong reason for fucking."

"I guess I have to settle down and grow up sometime." Cam
shrugged. "Who knows, domesticity may be what I need for people to
take me seriously."

The waiter returned with Nick's credit card. "Well, I have to
discuss biz with Liev Schreiber this afternoon. He has this new
synthetic hormone research that may do us some good. I trust you
can at least make sure that the office remains standing in my
absence?" He winked at Cam as he got on to his feet.

"Thanks for lunch, and I'll try my best."



"David," Cam said warily when he found the man standing by his
car. "I thought you were still in LA."

"Got bored with LA," David just said simply, standing straighter.
"You look good," he said huskily as he took in the sight of
Cameron.

"Stay away from me," Cam said coldly as he tried to push David out
of the way. "Get the fuck away from me," he snapped when David
touched his hand.

"Why do you hate me so much, Cameron?" David asked as he moved
aside. "We had such a good time together..."

Cam tried to rein in his temper. "You believe that I'm stupid.
God, David, when you tried to sabotage me by telling those banks
that I raked up huge gambling debts - what the fuck are you doing,
David? I would have stayed with you but you tried to destroy me."

David made a wounded growl and pushed his hands against Cam's
chest. "I love you, Cameron," he cried. "What am I supposed to do?
You keep telling me that you don't believe in love and that you
will get rid of me if I ever fall in love with you, so tell me,
how the fuck can I keep you with me? I kept quiet when you cheated
on me all the time, because I knew they didn't mean anything to
you. I did everything, Cameron, just so that I can keep you with
me. How the fuck was I supposed to feel when you start talking
about starting a business?"

"Support me?" Cameron asked him furiously. "Believe in me?"

"And where will I be in your life today?" David snapped back.
"Unlike you, Cameron, who has a brain - yes, I know you are smart,
dammit - I am not. I'm just a dumb pretty face and even now I am
slowly losing out to prettier young faces in the business." He
raked his fingers through his hair wearily. "I don't know how to
live my life when I am no longer young and popular," he said
finally. "And now that I don't have you, I don't know what to do."

"David - "

"Take me back, Cameron," David pleaded. He didn't care - he went
down on his knees there and then. "Please," he begged the other
man, "give me another chance, please. I told them those lies
because I was so scared of losing you and I didn't know what to
do. I'll do anything Cameron. Just take me back."

"I can't," Cameron said helplessly. "It won't work that way
anymore, David." He pulled the other man gently to his feet. "Let
us just be friends," he suggested.

David just laughed bitterly despite the tears glistening in his
eyes. "Ah yes, the mighty Cameron Mathison," he sneered weakly.
"You're truly a bastard. You come in here and break everyone's
heart and expect them to be cool with it because you don't want
messy entanglements. Don't touch me. God, I'm such a fool. I'm
always a fool!"

"David, please - "

"Don't!" David screamed, hysteria rising in his voice now. He
ignored Cameron, and dashed blindly down the streets.

Cameron stared after his ex, and he didn't know how long he stood
there until a glistening wetness on his cheeks brought him back to
this world. There was a dull pain in his chest that quickly became
an intense agony, and he didn't know how to handle this, the
painful realization of what a bastard he really was. He thought of
David's raw eyes, the pain in the man's expression, and. and. he
couldn't deal with this.

He had to see Colt. Colt would make everything right. He had to.



Christien was having a slow day, and he was unpacking a recently
arrived crate of books from the estate of a recently deceased
Bostonian book collector when he heard the door burst open.
Startled, he almost dropped the pair of scissors in his hand.
"Cam?" he called when he saw the man, and then dropped the
scissors in surprise when he saw Cam's tear-streaked face. "Cam,
what happened?" he asked as he pushed aside the crate to stand up.

"Colt, oh Colt," Cam just whispered, and then he roughly grabbed
the other man in his arms.

Christien was too stunned to fight back when Cam's mouth closed
heavily over his.




FOUR

It was a kiss he had never experienced so intensely before.
Christien lost all rational thoughts in the embrace of Cam's
muscular, warm arms - how could he be rational? - and he had to
kiss the man back. His tongue met Cam's searching tongue in his
mouth and he placed his arms around Cam's shoulders, letting his
fingers entangle in Cam's short curls as he let the man lower him
onto the floor.

It probably wasn't wise, but Christien knew that Cam was hurting,
and perhaps it was okay if he let himself commit this mistake.
Maybe he'd be hurt, maybe not, but now, it seemed insignificant
compared to having Cam in his arms, kissing him hungrily even as
he whispered incoherent, urgent nothings in his ears. He turned to
lie on his stomach and looked back as Cam pulled Christien's shirt
out of his trousers and kissed upwards the indentation of
Christien's spine, causing the man to shudder in pleasure. He
wasn't wearing any underwear, so when Cam pulled Christien's
trousers down, he just had to unzip himself and plunged home into
Christien's fiery core.

Christien gritted his teeth but moans of pleasure escaped his lips
as he felt the thick crotch hair of Cam pressed against his
buttocks and every inch of that thick cock packed his insides to
the limit and stretched him to his very limits. Then Cam was
gripping Christien's thighs hard as he began fucking the man hard.

Waves of pleasure washed through Christien, and Cam's harsh groans
of pleasure were music to his ears. Their climax wracked them
both, and Cam collapsed heavily upon Christien, their sweat-soaked
clothes cooling the fever of their bodies.



Christien listened to Cam silently, and let the man wept as they
lay that night in Christien's bed. He didn't stop Cam when the man
said that he was a ruthless bastard, but he held the man tight as
he let Cam fucked him. A part of him knew that Cam was using him
to exorcise his own demons, but he didn't care. He didn't care
anymore about logic, love, or sense. Cam was here, hurting, in
need of someone, and somehow that was enough for Christien for
now.

Thus he slept, unaware that Cam spent the entire night watching
him sleep. He didn't feel Cam's trembling hand slowly touched his
face, or realized that Cam listened to the sleeping man breathe
all through the night. Cam couldn't sleep, for inside him, he was
feeling too many confusing emotions. He tried to sort them out the
way he was confronted with problems in his life - logically and
methodically - but eventually he had to give up.

Christien made sense though. He thought of how Christien offered
himself to him after the initial rough fuck in the bookstore, and
he looked down at his naked body in a sense of bewilderment. He
touched his chest as if for the first time, listening to the
tattoo of his heartbeat, and wondered how he could be so lucky as
to have Christien under him and taking every inch of him. What did
he do to deserve this man? His palm crept over Christien's
stomach, feeling the man's taut abs clenched under his touch,
until his hand rested just above Christien's cock. Even through
the wiry curls of Christien's pubic bush, Cameron thought he could
feel the warmth of Christien's rectum, suffused with Cam's heated
seminal fluids, seeping through layers of muscles to warm his
palm. He thought of his sperm circulating in Christien's systems -
yes, he was being stupid, he knew that - but he had to grin at
that thought. He liked the idea of this, his very own being, in
Christien's body, as if Christien would now hold a part of him
always.

"Colt," he whispered aloud, touching Christien's cheek again. "Is
this love, my dear Colt?"

Christien, asleep, didn't answer, and Cameron kept his vigil until
morning.



"I love you, Christien Alexis Anholt."

Christien looked up in shock. Cam paused in the act of pulling on
a clean T-shirt (it was Christien's and too small for him, fitting
him like a second skin that Christien feared the fabric would
tear) and smiled, a free smile easily given. "I love you, Colt,"
he said again.

"Thank you," Christien said unsteadily as he tried to remain calm.

"That's it?" Cam asked with a frown. "You're not... I mean, that's
just it? 'Thank you'?"

"Thank you," Christien repeated. "I'm glad, and flattered, but are
you sure, Cam?"

"Of course I'm sure. Why aren't you sure?"

"You were hurt last night, Cam. You and I had sex because you were
hurting and you needed an outlet, I think. If you come back here
next week and tell me you love me, after you've had time to
rethink and reconsider your feelings, maybe I'll be more certain
that you really love me," Christien told him gently. "I'm looking
for love, yes, but I don't want to get hurt as well. I will fall
in love with you, Cam, if we keep going on like this, because you
make it so easy. If this is just rebound on your part, I suggest
we break it here and now."

"David and me - we were good together, but that has nothing to do
with us," Cameron tried to explain. "I was thinking of you when I
drove over after David and me argued. I have always wanted to
sleep with you... shit, I'm saying this all wrong."

"No, go on," Christien asked him.

Cam gave up trying to be eloquent. His feelings were a mess. "With
you, Colt, I wanted to be a new man."

"I think I heard that line from a movie somewhere."

"I'm serious!" Cam yelled. He tried to tone his volume down - it
wasn't easy when he was so nervous and agitated. "Damn it, Colt,
you make me so ashamed of what I was, and you make me want to be a
better person. You're my friend, Colt, and I respect and trust
you. I wanted to sleep with you for months now, but I didn't even
try because I respect you, man. You think last night was a pity
fuck? No, Colt, please get this right: last night, I wanted only
you, okay? This isn't an anybody-will-do shit. I want only you."

"Oh, Cam." Christien sighed. "I don't know what to say."

"How about 'yes, I'll sleep with you, and who knows, maybe by next
Friday I'll love you back'?"

Christien silently studied Cam, as if he could read the mind and
heart of the man, and Cam stared back defiantly.

"I guess this Friday we will actually be having sex for real?"
Christien asked finally.

"Friday? How about tonight?"

"Fine, you can drop by tonight." Christien smiled tentatively at
the other man. A thought hit him. "Oh, and don't think I will be
happy to bottom out all the time. I want to be top sometimes too."

"Don't worry, I'll let you fuck my ass."

"Tonight," Christien said teasingly.

"How about now?" Cam slowly made a show of unbuckling his belt.

Christien began to undo the sash of his bathrobe as he walked
towards the grinning Cam. "I like how you think sometimes."

"That won't be all you will like about me, Colt."

Of that they both had no doubt.