THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB Dermot 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 It was twelve fourteen a.m. in the morning. Benjamin Stiller, sober and easy-going English lit professor by day, was whispering softly into his cell phone in the darkness of the living room. His partner, George Leonard, had slept their bedroom, or rather, the bedroom they used to share before George's disease required them to convert that room into a nursing room. Ben couldn't sleep amidst the soft sounds of the hemodialysis machine then. Now he still couldn't sleep even though George had been buried a year ago. If he closed his eyes and listened hard enough, he could still hear George's silent breathing. "Tell me about your date," he asked the man at the other end. He was talking to Dermot Mulroney, his brother-in-law. While Ben was steady, Dermot was an incorrigible playboy who vowed once, when they were drunk, that he would never ever settle down with any man. Yet Dermot had arrived at Ben's door at two in the morning, two years ago, drunk and grief-stricken over the death of his mother, and Ben had taken the man in and let the man slept off his hangover on the couch. Dermot treated Ben like a good friend ever since. In fact, Dermot didn't even blink when Ben asked him to describe his sexual exploits. He didn't ask, and Ben didn't tell him that he needed to hear Dermott's excesses since he was dying from frustration. Before he succumbed to kidney failure, George had been impotent after a stroke, and now Ben was slowly going mad from sexual frustration. And listening to Dermot had been a "non- cheating" way of reprieve that he carried on as a habit long after George's passing. "Come on, Ben, you don't want to hear that," Dermot said. It was a game, where he would always be reticent and Ben would coax him into telling. "It's late, go to sleep." "What? No one in your bed tonight?" Ben asked. "Well, not tonight," Dermot said, and Ben could see the man smile in his mind. "I have to finish some medical reports due tomorrow." "Why? Playing hooky at work today?" "Well, the Bastard begged me for it, so I gave it to him at my office, right at my table, the whole evening." The Bastard was Dermot's superior. Dermot was a laboratory technician. "So you did fuck him last night," Ben remarked. "Yeah. I have to. Can't have him bossing me all the time. He even apologized to me this morning for yelling at me yesterday afternoon, right before begging for a chance to blow me." Ben slipped his hand into his shorts and bit back a sigh as his fingers closed around his fast-hardening cock. "So how did you fuck him last night?" "Well, I started simple. First I sucked his tits, nibbling on them until he begged me to stop. He wanted me to blow him, but I threw him over his back and gave it to him hard instead. Damn, but that ass was hot. Tight and hot, I swear my cock only got harder in that ass. He screamed, saying he wasn't ready, but I put my hand over his mouth and fucked him good." "Oh yeah." His hand moving faster over his shaft, Ben closed his eyes. "Did he fight you?" "He tried. But he wanted it bad, Benny boy, and his ass was rising even as he tried to push me off. And when I finally let him speak, his first words were `Harder!'" "And did you come, D?" "Not up his ass. I made him suck my dick, and he licked me clean, even though it had just been up his ass. I keep fucking his ass until I was about to come, then I pulled out and made him lick me clean. When he had begged enough, I let him suck me until I came in his mouth. He swallowed every fucking drop, and even then he kept moving his mouth up and down my half-hard cock until I'm hard again. Just wouldn't stop until I came three more times. I haven't met anyone who enjoyed drinking come like him. Shit, but his mouth was good." Ben was moving his hips in rhythm with his hands now. "Oh, that is so hot," he said brokenly as his breathing became more rapid. "Ben, are you jerking off?" "No," Ben said, then bit back a hiss as he shuddered, his semen shooting a wide arc onto his chest and stomach even as he tensed and gasped in his orgasm. "Oh fuck!" "Jesus, Ben, go call up one of those sex lines if you're that hard up," Dermot said, but he didn't sound mad. "Is that why you keep calling me about my sex life?" "Yeah," Ben said, still panting from his climax. He rubbed his hand wearily over the stains on his stomach and licked his palm. "I'm sorry, D." "Whatever for? You just need to go out and get laid. How long has it been?" "One year and eleven months and counting." "And you've been doing without since then? Fuck, I'll go mad if I were you. Look, I can set you up with some nice willing stud if you want." "No." "In fact, drop by my place this Friday evening, seven o' clock. I'll bring you to somewhere nice." "No, D. It doesn't feel right." Dermot snorted in derision. "So you'll just call me up when the mood hits you?" "Do you mind?" Ben asked timidly. Dermot was silent for a few seconds, then he answered, "No, I don't." "So tell me about the fuck at your office." Dermot Mulroney wiped his face as he sat heavily at the seat outside the squash court. "Hey wimp, don't tell me you're tired already," Brian Littrell said challengingly as he stood at the court door, swinging his racquet. "Heavy night?" "Not the way you think. I talked to Ben all night." "Ben who? Affleck or your brother-in-law?" "Brother-in-law. The one I told you about, whose partner died?" "HIV?" Brian asked. "Liver and kidney failure - George always drank too much for his own good. They have been living together for ten years. Ten years - can you imagine that? I can't even see myself with a same man for a week." "So what did you talk about?" Brian asked, sitting beside Dermot. He reached for his water bottle and took a hearty gulp. "Sex." Dermot sighed as he looked thoughtfully across the room. "George hadn't been able to give him any when he was alive and now Ben was doing without, and he's feeling real hard up. Since he refuses to find a lover, he asks me to tell him my sexual adventures instead." Brian burst into laughter. "That's fucking funny," he managed to say. "I bet he has a large collection of porn to jerk off to as well." "I wouldn't be surprised." Brian sobered. "So why are you looking so troubled? It's not like you to be serious." "Ben helped me through a hard time in my life when my mother died of cancer," Dermot said. "I want to help him." "D, I'm surprised. You do have a heart." "Well, I believe doing good once every few years wouldn't harm my conscience." Dermot turned to Brian. "Any ideas, Bri?" "He wouldn't go on a date?" "Refused point blank." "Buy him a vibrator." The idea hit Ben when he was discussing the finer points of Yeats to his students. As he had two meetings and a discussion panel to see to after the lecture, he couldn't consider the idea closely until late evening. He couldn't see any flaw, so he decided to carry it out. The euphoria he felt upon that resolution convinced him that this was the right thing to do. Hence, here he was on Friday night, knocking on Dermot's door. "Hi," Dermot said with a smile as he answered the door. Ben didn't actually see Dermot often, although they talked over the phone often, since both led different lives across opposite ends in New York. Whenever he saw Dermot up close, he could never fail to admire the man's dark beauty. Dermot had an open, cheerful face that could brood as well as charm in equal devastation. Handsome yet not too handsome to be threatening, he lured men easily into his bed. It also helped his success rate that he was charming and persistent. Now that Ben was considering an affair with him, Dermot's handsome looks took on a more personal and intimidating perspective. Ben himself wasn't a handsome man, but he looked okay enough, he guessed, with his flat face and elegantly sculptured facial bones. He had never played the field, having been with George and only George. "I want to have an affair with you," he blurted. Dermot only stared at him blankly for a long while. "What?" he said finally. "You're right. I ought to have an affair, and I've decided to do so. But I'd like to sleep with a man I know pretty well, and one who will happily plunge into a no-strings affair. You. So how is that?" Ben said, his words stumbling in rapid quickfire in his nervousness. "No way!" Dermot exclaimed. "Why not?" Ben demanded. "I'm not good looking enough for you? You fucked the Bastard and you told me he was fifty pounds overweight." "That's different. That's a revenge fuck, dummy. I can't fuck you. It's obscene." "That never stopped you before with others." "They weren't my brother-in-law and good friend," Dermot shot back. That took the wind out of Ben's sails. He had no idea how to press his suggestion or even be seductive. "Uhm, I see," he said. "Oh for fuck's sake, if you want to get laid with someone you know, go out with a few guys and get to know them a bit better, than fuck them." "I don't know how," Ben admitted sheepishly. "George was the only man I dated and eventually married." Dermot opened the door wide. "Come in." Ben sat back on the couch ten minutes later and studied Dermot's animated face. "I'm not like you, D. I can't just meet someone and get them in bed." "Go on a few dates, that's all I'm saying," Dermot said patiently. "I'm not asking you to start a one night stand." "I want a short, meaningless affair. I don't think I'm up to having another long-term relationship." "Okay. So I'll set you up with some of my friends?" Ben took a deep breath. He didn't know why he felt nervous. It had been over a year, and he wasn't betraying George. Still, he was nervous. "Can you teach me how to be a little more, uh, flirty?" he asked finally. "Flirty?" Dermot repeated in disbelief. "Be more, I don't know, debonair. Like you." "No way. You're being ridiculous, Ben. It's not as if you're butt ugly," Dermot told him. "You are. well." "Well?" Ben challenged him. "Funny?" Dermot finished sheepishly. "So you'll help me?" "Do I ever have a choice?" TWO This wasn't so bad, Ben thought as he turned in front of the mirror, admiring his new clothes. He could get used to this. The blue of his shirt brought out the green in his eyes, and while there wasn't anything that can be done about his (lack of) height, he didn't look too bad. Of course, these clothes wouldn't come cheap, even if Michael Biehn, who designed them, was persuaded by Dermot to cut down the prices. But Ben felt alive for the first time in months, and if the price were a few thousand dollars, he wouldn't mind paying. True to his word, Dermot had - reluctantly - taught Ben to be flashier. Ben wardrobe was the first project. Inside, however, he wasn't sure which accorded the greater pleasure: walking along stores with Dermot on Sunday evenings or looking in the mirror and seeing himself come to life. He turned to Dermot, who was ignoring Ben and flirting with the salesgirl. "How do I look?" Dermot straightened, and for a second a pained look crossed his face before it was gone. "Great," he just said. "Are we done?" On his part, Dermot was suffering inside. He was confused, because he found himself looking forward to their weekend excursions around town. After all, he was supposed to be fucking his dates, not taking Ben shopping. And it terrified him that when he saw Ben enjoying himself, he felt a sharp pain in his heart. He hadn't felt this pain ever since he was fifteen and had an impossible crush on the football captain. "Why aren't you answering my calls?" Ben asked, catching Dermot by surprise. What could he say? That the idea of bragging about his sexual conquests to Ben, once a perversely amusing hobby, had somehow became discomfiting? "I've been busy," he answered brusquely, hoping Ben would take the hint and change the subject. "Care to tell me about them?" "No." Dermot pushed Ben into the passenger seat of his car. "Now shut up and I'll drive us to dinner." "No weekend date?" "No, you are my weekend date." "You don't have to do this if you don't like it," Ben said. "Who said I don't like it? I'm enjoying myself." "No you're not. You looked as if you're the one doing without." "Fine," Dermot snapped. "You're ruining my sex life. I'm supposed to be dating a hot-blooded model tonight, but you wanted me to stay at home and tell you sex stories. I'm doing without, Ben, and it's been one week. That's a new record for me." "Sorry," Ben said, although his voice indicated that he was more amused than sorry. "Okay, I'll ask Biehn to help me. He's doing a better job than you anyway. Go home to your male bimbos." "You like my male bimbos," Dermot snapped. Ben only opened the car door and stepped out. "Damn it, Ben, get back in here. I'm an ass, a bad-tempered ass, okay? Ben, you fucking better get back in here." Ben's reply was a finger and a grin before he walked away. "Ben Stiller's dating," Brian reported gleefully. "He's going out with our very own Rupert." "Are they fucking?" Dermot asked. His hold slipped, and the squash racquet crashed onto the floor. "How the hell would I know? It's not that bad, D, they're double dating. With Guy and his old bastard Harry." "I don't care," Dermot said. He was seething inside, however. Ben hadn't called him for three weeks. Finally, Dermot broke down and called Ben, only to get his answering machine. Sixteen messages later, Ben still hadn't called. And damned if Dermot didn't miss that man. "Let him fuck anyone he wants." "You sound jealous," Brian murmured. "Why should I? Maybe now we can exchange sex stories, he and I." But he was jealous. He knew he had lost his head when he found himself standing across the street from the restaurant Ben and Rupert were dining. And when those two walked out at ten laughing, Rupert's arm around Ben's shoulder, Dermot could only stare daggers. What was wrong with him? Did he really want to fuck Ben that much? He hadn't even entertained that idea before, but now, he couldn't think of anything else. At eleven he watched Rupert walked out of Ben's door. Resisting the urge to hop into his car and run Rupert down, he dialed Ben's number on his phone instead. The answering machine greeted him. Fuck! He dialed again, and again, and finally threw the phone hard against the glass window. Hence it was probably acceptable that Ben took a step back when he opened the door for Dermot. The latter probably looked like the devil himself in his agitated state. "What are you doing here?" Ben asked. "I can't stop thinking about you," Dermot answered simply. They looked at each other, and Dermot wondered if his heart was in his eyes for Ben to see. Maybe that was why their lips somehow met and melded into a bruising, urgent kiss. Maybe that was why Ben was tearing at Dermot's shirt, and Dermot was biting gently into Ben's neck and shoulders even before they reached the bedroom. Whatever the reason was, Ben found himself flat on his back, his open shirt fluttering around his body as Dermot hungrily kissed and tasted every inch of bare skin on his chest and torso. That clever mouth gently nibbled and teased Ben's nipples to erect attention before moving down the trail of hair to the navel, Dermot's hands pulling Ben's pants open. Then Dermot's mouth was on his cock, engulfing him in maddening wet and heated velvet. Ben couldn't control himself. First touch of that tongue on his cock head and his balls contracted. "Oh man," he cried as he thrust his hips forward. Dermot's eyes widened at the surge of semen flooding his mouth, but he swallowed nonetheless. Then Ben was turned over, and now that mouth was at his anus, reaming it slowly but sensually, tracing the muscular pucker before surging inside. Ben could only squirm in pleasure. Dermot's finesse was as he boasted. Ben could only sigh as he felt his pleasure pool, then exploded in another ejaculation. Dermot's fingers played with his prostate even after the shudders of climax long ebbed. "Are you going to fuck me now?" Ben asked weakly. "Can you feel this?" Dermot answered. Ben felt the wet tip of Dermot's cock pushing against his anus. He shivered in anticipation, then was rewarded by the delicious pain of his ass stretching to accommodate Dermot. The pain wrecked him, along with white-hot pleasure of being filled slowly, inch by inch. It had been so long, and he had almost forgotten the glorious feel of cock. His fingers clawed into his sheets as he slowly lost himself to Dermot's steady, pounding rhythm. Each withdrawal to the tip almost turned Ben inside out, and each full thrust to the hilt sent Ben screaming in ecstasy. Dermot drew out the fuck as long as he could. When he felt his orgasm rising, he slowed his thrusts into long, deep ones, until he felt more in control. Then he was pounding into Ben with short, hard stabs. And for the hell of it, he varied his rhythm, once deep and then shallow rhythms until Ben begged for mercy and asked him to shoot. Only when Ben screamed through his fifth orgasm did Dermot let loose his climax. And as his semen flooded Ben's insides, he cried out the man's name. "That's just what I need," Ben said when Dermot finally rolled off him. "The father of all fucks. I thought you're just bragging, but now I see your prowess is quite up to the rumors." "I never lie about my fucking," Dermot said, offended at the very idea. "I know now you didn't," Ben said with a languid stretch of his body. He felt as if he had been totally demolished and he loved it. George had never fucked him this good. had he? "Thanks D." "No problem at all," Dermot said. "I'm sorry I burst in on you tonight. Why didn't you answer my calls? I'm so worried." "Really?" Ben asked. "I thought you're mad with me." "No longer," Dermot said. He grinned crookedly as he reached to play with Ben's right nipple. "I think I'm mad about you though." "Does this mean you'll have a fling with me?" "Yeah." Dermot moved to place his thigh over Ben's. "So what do you think, Benny boy? Care for another round?" "I'm sore," Ben protested gently. He shut up however when Dermot's mouth found his cock. Feeling tad silly, Dermot knocked on Ben's door the following night. The bouquet of violets in his hand might be pushing it a bit, but he couldn't help it. He had thought about it long and hard, and he decided that maybe it was time he try settling down. With Ben. It seemed weird to stick to one same man, but with Ben, it didn't seem much of a hardship. "Hi," Ben said when he opened the door. "For me?" "Yeah." Tongue-tied for the first time in his life, Dermot could only grin. "For you." "Thanks. Come in?" "Ben, will you marry me?" Dermot asked. Ben's mouth fell open. "You're kidding," he said when he finally could. "No. I've thought about it. I am willing to settle down with you." "You think. May I know why you want to settle down now?" Ben asked dryly. "I just feel it, Ben. You feel right." Dermot knew he was bungling it, but he had no idea how else to adorn his words. "With you, I feel content and there's no need to fuck to prove my manhood." "No." The answer was like a punch in his gut. "What?" "No. The answer's no." "Why?" Dermot could only ask. "I know you, D. You are a serial tomcat. You'll never be content with me. You're not even a nice man when it comes to love, and you've told me yourself how you treat your sex partners with disdain for giving in to you." "That's not. I." Trapped by his own words, Dermot could only looked at Ben with desperation in his eyes. "I will change, Ben. I can change, and I will, for you." "No." Ben said, his voice only wavering slightly. "You're a good fuck, but damn it, you're supposed to know this is a temporary thing. I don't want a long term relationship." "Don't do this to me," Dermot said. "Goodnight D," Ben said gently, and closed the door. "No!" Dermot shouted then, and started kicking and pounding at the door. "Ben, damn it, open up this fucking door! We're not finished, you hear me? No one says no to me. Open the fucking door!" The cops had to drag him away. THREE "Guy, can I ask you a question?" It was three days later and Ben was sitting at a deli with Guy Pearce. "Yeah? Shoot," Guy said. "Harry's almost thirty years older than you. Aren't you afraid that one day you'll have to, you know, take care of him?" "I am. I think he feels the same too, but we're taking it one day at a time." Guy shrugged. "I'm not kidding myself, of course. Harry could only be sexually active for another ten or fifteen years if we're lucky, and I'll be like you eventually, catering to a much older and invalid man who couldn't satisfy me sexually. Is that what you're asking?" "Yeah," Ben said, embarrassed slightly. "Taking care of George was like hell, especially because I love him so. But it's so hard because of the loneliness." "I can guess. But I don't care, Ben, because Harry's worth it." Guy seemed so secure and confident that Ben envied the man at the moment. A skeptical part of him whispered that it was all due to Guy's naivete. Let Guy experience it for himself and he would change his tune. "Harry gave up a life of tomcatting around for me. If I'm not mistaken, that's what Dermot is offering to do for you, yes?" Guy asked with keen perception. "Do you believe him?" "I don't know. I've listened to his exploits, and he really treated his partners bad. Do you know he fucked his supervisor as a way of getting back at the man? It was all a game of subjugation to him. I don't want to be another one of his conquests." "You already are," Guy said bluntly. "He's already had you, right? So why is he leaving phone messages and trying like hell to see you? He could have just walked away." "You think I ought to give him a chance? Is any man worth the risk?" "I think it's a bit more complicated than that. Whether or not you want Dermot, you should open up and start living. Stop hiding behind George's last years on earth." Guy shook his head. "Can I order my lunch now?" "Hi." Dermot scowled at the man outside his door. "Hi," he said curtly. Ben smiled nervously. "Am I too late in taking up your proposal?" "No." Dermot looked even more thunderous. "Fuck it, no." "Then can I come in?" "If you dare," Dermot said, standing aside. Ben let go of the breath he was holding. "Screw around on me and I'll break your neck." "Fair enough," Dermot said. "Take off your clothes. I haven't had ass for three days now. Maybe after a few hard fucks I can bring myself to be the nice and even forgive you." Ben heard the door close behind him and worked on his shirt buttons.