THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Andrew

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

Andrew Camden Riker leaned against the wall and took a deep,
steadying breath. For the hundredth time in one hour, he muttered
aloud under his breath, "Drew, you can do this. You really can do
this."

It wasn't easy overcoming years of inferiority complex. Sure, he
was gorgeous. He was a lanky, geeky kid with all teeth and too
long limbs, but he grew up just nice to be a gorgeous hunk.
$600,000 per modeling assignment couldn't be wrong. But he wasn't
the most confident guy around. His identical twin brother Derek
was older and just as gorgeous, but Derek was also the smart,
responsible one who took over the family business and made it even
bigger and better. Derek had a lovely wife and everybody loved
him. Drew was the silly other brother who modeled and partied and
did nothing much else worthy of notice.

Derek once asked Drew whether Drew ever hated Derek for making
people compare them both so unfairly. Sometimes, Drew thought, but
he never told his brother that. Through hell and heaven, yeah,
Derek was his brother and while sometimes Derek could be as bossy
as hell, Derek was also a great brother who stuck by Drew when
everyone seemed to be sure that Drew was going to meet a bad end.

This was Drew's one chance to pay Derek back. Who knows, he might
even like being responsible - now that was a thought.

It was very difficult though, because right behind that door was
his old boyfriend Kenneth Stafford.

Luck wasn't with his side that day. He decided to chicken out and
flee, but the door opened then and Ken himself walked out,
adjusting his tie with one hand even as he grabbed his briefcase
in the other, as if he was rushing to a meeting. Ken wasn't the
usual suit and tie type, and even now, he seemed too primal and
wild to be restrained by business suit. His usually unruly long
dark gold strands of hair were slicked back and groomed, making
Drew's fingers itch to ruffle them up again and luxuriate in the
sensation of those soft, silky hair between them.

"Drew?" Ken's shoes made a screech as he came to a halt beside the
other man. "Drew... how...?"

"Hi," Drew said, smiling in what he knew was a weak, flustered
way. "Long time no see, Ken. You look great."

For a moment, Ken was staring at him in that stunned, stone-faced
way Drew had always found charming, but soon shock melded into
something more sinister: desire. In fact, Ken had dropped his
briefcase from his now lifeless fingers and now he was taking a
step forward towards Drew. Drew knew Ken would do next - Ken would
kiss Drew hungrily, the way the man had always did even when one
year had passed and they had known every inch of each other's body
by then. If Ken kissed Drew now, Drew's last vestiges of barely
controlled confidence will tear apart. "Don't," he whispered
shakily, placing his hand up to stop Ken's vanguard. "I'm not here
for that, Ken."

"Well that's too bad then, isn't it?" Ken said bitterly. He
gestured at his office. "Want to come in and talk about whatever
it is you want to see me about?"

"Don't you have a meeting? You seem to be in a rush. I can come
back later," Drew offered.

"Nothing I cannot reschedule," Ken told him, opening the door.

It was what Ken always said to Drew. Drew always came first to
Ken, and Drew had feared that loyal dogged devotion once. He still
did, but now, as he entered Ken's office and feel Ken's eyes
burning in him, still desiring him, Drew wondered whether he
should be glad or terrified that he was finally back in Kenneth
Stafford's life. He loved Ken - he always had, which was why he
had fled two years ago. He hoped he had the strength to flee again
when this was over.



TWO

"We can behave like adults," Ken said. "We can do this
professionally," he echoed dully as he sat down across the table
from Drew. "I miss you, Drew. I hated you for the first year when
you left. I fucked every man that let me, hoping I can forget you.
I hated all of them. They weren't you, Drew. They didn't break my
heart like you did and fled with the pieces like the fucking
coward you are. I missed you this second year we're apart, and I
miss you so much that I actually was more than willing to sell my
soul to the devil just to get you back, just like in the story of
Mephistopheles that you told me. So now you came back. Now let's
get down to business. How can I help you?"

Drew fought down an insane urge to laugh. "My brother Derek is the
one that can use your help."

"Go on." Ken interlaced his fingers and placed them under his
chin, the way he always did when he listened to Drew, hanging to
every word of his as if what Drew said meant everything to Ken.

"He screwed up in an investment." It still felt surreal saying
that. Derek had always seemed infallible. "He lost too much money
and he would be in trouble."

"So this is about my money," Ken said bluntly, "and my business
connections."

"We are just a small-time company, Ken, and there's no way Derek
can afford to ask someone like Hugh Jackman to come and bail us
out, not when bigger companies are vying for his attention. And
especially when we are in the danger of being bought out by
Anderson Cooper who is Hugh's close buddy."

"I'm Hugh and Coop's close buddy too," Ken pointed out. "I took
you with me to Coop's third anniversary bash with his guy.
Remember? We got a little bit hot and heavy in the elevator but we
forgot to stall the elevator first."

Drew still blushed whenever he came face to face with Coop. Coop
and Joaquin Phoenix were waiting for the elevator (Coop having
just collected his new diamond ring for Ioan from Joaquin) when
the doors opened to reveal Drew and Ken in a most compromising
position. Lucky for them Coop was in a very good mood and found
the whole embarassing event most romantic. "I am hoping that
you'll help me help Derek. He never asks me to, but I know he is
close to breaking point, and I want to help him."

"Okay."

Drew blinked. "Okay?" he repeated somewhat warily. He never
expected victory to be this easy.

"Yeah, okay," Ken told him, making to stand up from his seat.
"I'll drop by Derek's office later today and we'll see what I can
do to help. I can pull some strings to increase the amount of loan
he can take from this bank."

"Thanks," Drew said, dazed. Why was Ken so good to him?

"No, don't thank me," Ken said. "I made a promise to you once,
Drew, that I will honor and cherish you through good and bad
times, in sickness and health, through wealth and poverty. If I
have to pauper myself making you happy, so be it."

"Don't make yourself a martyr out of this," Drew snapped, close to
his limit as Ken's words cut him deep in the heart until he bled
painfully inside. "You told me yourself about those men you had
after I left."

"After you left," Ken reiterated. "I was faithful to you when we
were together, and you know that. And I gave up fucking around
soon after I started, because they were all pale shadows of you. I
don't know why. You ran out on me without a word, and next thing I
know I am reading about you and a different model or designer in
some fuck-of-the-week story in tabloids and other fucking pieces
of shit people were more than happy to give me to read. If I keep
wearing my wedding ring long after you left me, it's because I am
a fucking idiot who cannot overlook how the man that hurt me so
much made me laugh and live in that short time we were together."

"We had two years," Drew said lamely.

"A hundred years is too short a time when I'm with you," Ken just
said. He chuckled humorlessly. "Listen to me. I am never this
melodramatic until I met you. I came out for you. I cut off my
ties with my family because they hated you. Oh, what the fuck, get
out of my life, Drew. I don't think I can survive if you walk out
on me again."

"Ken..." But what could he say to Ken. "I'm sorry."

"Good."

At that moment, by a cruel trick of nature, sunlight fell on Ken's
hand and a glint caught Drew's eye. He closed his eyes as pain
washed over him. Ken wasn't lying when he said that he was still
wearing his wedding ring. There it was, on his ring finger, the
cross of a foolish man unable to let go of the fucking coward he
loved in vain.




THREE

"Your Ken Stafford talked to me today," Derek Riker said as he
watched his twin brother walked towards the side seats of the
squash court, where Derek was seated. "He had an interesting
proposal that will save my ass. Care to tell me how he came to
know of my fuck-up and why he is willing to help me? He won't even
talk to me after you left him."

"I just had a talk with him," Drew said. He always felt rather
stupid in the presence of Derek, and even now, he had to fight
this urge to look down at his shoes and fidget uncomfortably. "I'm
in town after all."

"I notice that he is still wearing his wedding ring," Derek said
softly.

"Oh shut up, Derek," Drew said in exasperation. "Don't butt into
my life, okay?"

"I knew he was a major slut for a few months after you dumped him.
I thought that was why you left him - maybe he fucked around on
you. I beat him, you know."

"You did?" Drew scowled at his brother.

"Oh, don't be mad. I thought he hurt you, that was why I trashed
him good. Don't tell Linda, by the way." Linda was Derek's
activist wife; they met in college when Linda threw a rock through
Derek's car window (she was among the protestors lobbying for
environmental reforms while Derek was the son of an oil baron); it
was love at first sight for Derek from thereon. "She hates the
idea of me going macho and violent."

"I can't imagine a gym rat like you beating Ken up." Ken was a
college boxer and wrestler and long after he left college and
toned down his muscular bulk, he was still a tough stud as he was
an active martial artist and kickboxer when he was not being Ken
Stafford, financial guru. "Serves you right if he breaks that nose
of yours."

"He didn't hit back, not once," Derek told Drew. "He just stood
there. I asked him what the fuck he did to hurt you that way, but
he just looked down in what I thought was guilt. It wasn't guilt,
was it, Drew?"

No, it was probably Ken, bewildered and wondering what he did
wrong to drive Drew away. Drew sat down and stared ahead, seeing
only Ken in his mind. The enormity of what he had done seemed to
have turned his heart to stone, for at that moment he felt as if
his heart had stopped beating. "I love him," Drew finally said.

"Do you?" Derek asked quietly.

"Yes I do," Drew said without hesitation. "I really don't know why
I walked out that day. Maybe I do, but everything's a confusing
mess in my head, and I don't know how to sort everything out."

"You always are like that," Derek said gently. "You want me to
help you out with that?"

Derek was always like that, always willing to be there and help
when Drew needed his sensible twin brother the most. And Drew
always pushed Derek away, he realized with sudden clarity. He did,
he realized with a sudden rush of awareness. Even now, he wanted
to tell Derek to mind his own business. What was he so afraid of?
Or maybe he really hated Derek more than he was willing to admit,
and accepting Derek's help was another acceptance that Drew really
was inferior and dumb compared to Derek. Maybe he really did hate
Derek for all those boyfriends Drew left the moment they made it
clear that Drew was their choice because Derek was unavailable.

Maybe he really was a fucking coward.

"I think I can sort this one out, Derek, but thank you, bro. I
appreciate you more than you imagine," Drew said shakily. "I'm a
32-year old male bimbo, and my modeling career will be over before
we know it."

"What do you want to do?" Derek asked.

"I don't know. I think I'll stay here in New York."

The light in Derek 's eyes was genuine. "Great!" he said. "We'll
get to see each other more often."

Why hadn't Drew realize how much Derek missed having Drew around?
Drew didn't know why, but he saw it in Derek's eyes and crooked
smile, and he wondered if he had hurt Derek unintentionally every
year when he turned down Derek's invitation to come over for
Christmas, thanksgiving, anything.

"I'm not sure if I should tell you this, since we're not certain
yet, but I think Linda's having our baby," Derek blurted out.

Drew could only stare at his twin brother. "W-what?"

"She was late, so she bought this pregnancy test kit and did some
test, and it said that we may be expecting little Carl Andrew
Riker soon. We'll be getting her mother's trusted gynecologist to
confirm it, but either way, I'm glad you'll be there when Carl
comes into this world. We're naming him after you and Linda's dad,
and you're becoming his godfather. Don't dare turn me down, lil'
bro."

Derek had a life of his own, and the fucker seemed obscenely
happy. Drew found himself bitterly envious of Derek, just as he
always had been of Derek all his life, it seemed. Then he thought
of Ken, and he wondered if he was a stupid ass, a coward, or both.

Maybe it was time he grew up and be his own man, just like Derek
had. Maybe it was time that he accepted Derek's unconditional
affections. And maybe, he thought, a broken man he had hurt so
unforgivably crossing his mind, maybe it was time that he accepted
Ken's affections too, if Ken was still willing to offer it.





FOUR

His friends had always mocked Ken Stafford for being an idiot. His
decamped lover had been cavorting with men all over Europe, a
pretty male model who was loved for being an eternal Peter Pan,
loving and breaking hearts remorselessly, and here Ken was, still
pining away like some love-struck idiot. But how could he explain
what made no sense even to him - he just couldn't muster up any
interest in anything anymore after Drew? He worked only because he
had bills to pay and he was afraid that if he stopped, he would
take one too many sleeping pills at night in an attempt to end the
hollow ache in his soul.

He had long stopped socializing with his old friends, preferring
to sit at the local bowling rink and watch people tumble pins with
their bowling balls. Actually, he liked the music here too. And
yes, here was where he first met Drew. Every night he would put in
coins in the jukebox, so that he would listen to the same songs he
heard that night he met Drew. On Thursdays (today) when a group of
guys from the same family, however, they would ruin his
melancholy. Like a bunch of nosey queens, they tended to believe
that he would welcome their company. He didn't. Why couldn't they
go away?

He scowled at that strange guy with too bright eyes, Jason Behr,
who was as always studying him curiously.

"What the fuck are you thinking?" he snapped.

"I'm thinking of Superman."

"What?" Ken scowled at the man. Jason's boyfriend Jeffrey seemed
like a decent guy, and Ken had met Jeffrey a few times because
Jeffrey was a key man in Ben Affleck's business operations. Since
anybody in the finance sector tried to know Ben better, they
inadvertently had to pander to Jeffrey, as Jeffrey had Ben's ears
and attention more than any other guys and women in the business.
The tragedy was, to humor Jeffrey one had also try to be very nice
to Jason. That wasn't easy.

"You look a lot like what I would envision Superman to be. Square
jaw, clean-cut wholesome all-American hero looks, and great
physique to match. And you have this great air of melancholy
around you, which is good, because I always imagined that having
super strength must be a terrible burden to bear. Have you ever
wonder what Clark Kent will say if he ever gets drunk and loses
his inhibition? Sort of like that song, I guess, by Five for
Fighting, that goes 'I'm only a man in a silly red sheet digging
for kryptonite in this one-way street, only a man in a funny red
sheet looking for special things inside of me, it's not easy to be
me'."

Ken stared at Jason. Was the man for real? "Uh, it is a nice song,
I guess."

"I especially love the line 'It may sound absurd, but don't be
na‹ve, even heroes have the right to bleed, I may be disturbed,
but won't you concede, even heroes have the right to dream'. The
trouble with the comic is that they make Superman so fucking
perfect, just like they made Spiderman, when they should be
showing the humanity of these people. It's tough being perfect,
and I think they should just get drunk and bitch a little, you
know?"

"Shouldn't you be bowling with your friends?"

"I can't bowl."

"Oh." Ken wondered if he could get away with gagging Jason into
silence. "Look, I want to be alone."

"Okay. I'll leave you alone."

"Not with you studying me like I'm some pet or something!" Ken
sputtered.

"I can't help it. You're fascinating," Jason told him. "You are
gorgeous, a perfect Ken doll in every way - even your name's
perfect, ha, ha. But I see you here every Thursday, just sitting
here and listening to the same songs again and again, and I
checked with the guy at the rentals and he confirms that you're
here pretty much four or five days a week."

"Yeah, I'm a sad, neurotic fool."

Jason shrugged and began humming that fucking Superman song.
Heroes had the right to bleed? Ken could have snorted in derision
at that. He was no superhero, but he was slowly breaking apart,
but he had no idea how to stop his downward spiral. He didn't want
to let go - therein was the problem. Stubbornly, he had refused to
move on because he just wanted Drew back. He wanted nothing else.
He was stubborn enough to cling to that want and live in a limbo
of grief and loneliness just to spite his fate that took Drew away
from him. How could anyone love this obsessively and stupidly?

"Hey, that's a hot guy," Jason suddenly said. "I saw him once in
one of Billy and Ed's ad campaign thing - what was his name? Drew
Riker? Wow, he's kind of cute, but a bit shorter than I expected."

Ken quickly turned - it was pathetic, a part of him noted
ironically, how he still responded with hope and alacrity where
Drew was concerned - and stood up as Drew - it really was Drew -
smiled uncertainly at Ken. And it was Drew who lost the smile in
his unguarded look of pure vulnerability, and it was Drew who gave
a soft sob as he threw himself into Ken's arms.

"Wow," Jason said, filing away this scene for use in his comic.




FIVE

Drew gasped in pleasure and bit into the headboard of the bed even
as his fingers clawed into the sheets, arching his back in
pleasure as Ken buried his wicked tongue into the depths of Drew's
aching ass. Ken used his thumbs to knead and spread wide the
delicious brown pucker as his tongue rimmed the perimeter of the
throbbing ring of muscles. Then he was taking a long, deep taste
of Drew's most intimate heat. He missed this unique scent and
flavor of Drew, just as he missed everything else about Drew, and
he lapped, sucked, and tasted Drew until Drew emitted a low
guttural cry of pure pleasure.

Drew held on tight onto Ken's muscular shoulders even as he
gritted his teeth in pain as Ken plunged deep into him. He
tightened his thighs around Ken's torso as he lifted his buttocks
to allow Ken better leverage, and then Ken was fucking him hard,
so hard that all those years of desultory fucking with people he
couldn't bring himself to care with seemed nothing more than an
unpleasant dream. This was real, this was Ken, his soul, his life,
and Ken's cock plunging deep, in and out, forcefully and hard was
the only pleasure Drew knew was real enough to melt the ice in his
heart.

The fire that seemed to burn in his body warmed and eased him even
as he urgently tensed as his loins seemed to pulse with his
inevitable orgasm. He felt safe in the embrace of Ken's solid
muscularity, he felt loved and cherished when Ken kissed him
hungrily, and he felt like power incarnate as he reveled in the
sensation of Ken's powerful thighs pumping urgently between his.
He didn't care if there were thicker and longer cocks buried in
his ass - they weren't Ken's cock; Ken's cock was all he wanted.

Maybe he cried out that he loved Ken in that moment when he
finally came in a powerful climax. Maybe Ken heard, because he was
holding Drew tight when he came, and this time, Drew found his
embrace a source of strength and calm rather than a suffocating
chokehold.

"You love me?" Ken said when he had his breathing in a more steady
rhythm.

"Yeah."

"When are you leaving?"

Drew always left for modeling stints in the too short time they
were together, and Drew always called at craziest moments when he
was lonely to laugh and joke with Ken. The distance between them
then let Drew feel safe enough to break down his reservations, not
knowing that by sharing himself to Ken and Ken sharing back, they
were both falling deeper in love. Only one day did Drew realize
how deep he was in this emotional snare he shared with Ken, and
only then did he walk out and never looked back.

He had to tell Ken. Ken deserved to know.

"I left because you love me and I love you back," he told Ken.
"I'm not justifying my leaving, Ken, I just want you to know why I
did it. I was so afraid that you will wake up one day and realize
that it's smart and stable Derek that you really want. Derek's
straight, but you have no idea how many gay guys want him bad. Me,
the gay one, who looks just like Derek minus the brain and charm,
becomes their poor man's choice. I look like Derek, fuck, I become
Derek to them, and when they realize that I'm not at all like
Derek, they dump me, just like that. I always keep a distance
between the people I sleep with, Ken, but somehow, you crossed
that distance and get to me. I thought that running away and
sleeping with prettier guys will do the trick, but it is killing
me inside. Maybe if I didn't come back, you'll hear about me one
day overdosing from some pills in some hotel room in Europe."

"You think I'm happy?" Ken asked gently. "I'm dying inside as much
as you, Drew. I hated you when you left me, and then I hated
myself because I was sure it was me who was to blame. I hated
until I couldn't hate anymore, and then I was just, well, I stop
feeling."

"I'm sorry, Ken. I don't know how I will ever forgive myself for
hurting you."

"Maybe we should just shut up and start again?" Ken suggested.
"That is, if you're not going to disappear again."

"I won't. I'm tired of running away. You're my good thing in my
life, Ken. I'll probably never find anybody else like you, so why
the fuck am I running away, I don't know. I'm going to live here,
Ken, and I'm going to try and be a nice, responsible guy. Maybe
I'll even learn to cook and make you some breakfast like a good
man should."

Ken nodded and held the man close to him.



Derek won their game of squash. How typical of Derek, really. Drew
rested his aching back against the wall and passed the water
bottle to Derek.

"Why did you buy that rare edition of that Superman comic for
Jason Behr?" Derek asked. "I thought you can't stand that guy."

"Ken said something about Jason and Superman bleeding. Who knows?"
Drew shrugged.

"I'm glad you're back with Ken," Derek told his brother. "He's
probably too good for you - "

"Yeah." Drew grinned back at his brother.

"But he's the only one I know stupid enough to want you back,
man."

"Asshole." Drew uncorked the water bottle and playfully splashed
his brother.

Derek made a playful growl and whacked his brother with the towel.
Since Drew lost the game, he'd have to be Derek's best man when
Derek renewed his vows with his wife later that week instead of
foisting weak excuses on his twin.

"We're both lucky sons of bitches, aren't we?" he asked Derek
finally.

"I know I am," Derek said.

Drew thought of Derek, Ken, and his life. "Yeah, I guess I am
too," he said.