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.