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 THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB Elliott

   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

   Christopher Robert Evans was in a good position in life, at least on
paper.  He was a popular fitness and physique model who had recently leapt
from the pages of underwear catalogues and fitness magazines to star in a
high profile and widely publicized advertising campaign for Health
Matheson, one of the biggest bestselling health product lines in the world.
Compared to the few nude shots he did when he was starving and needing to
find a way to pay the rent, his chiseled physique on display on billboards
and magazine ads made him feel like he had finally landed his own American
dream.  He had a comfortable amount of money in his bank account that he
couldn't finish even if he wanted to, he was inundated with acting offers,
and while he wasn't tall enough to model on the catwalk, he was getting
modeling offers from reputable fashion houses nonetheless for their print
ads.

   The press loved him for his boyish good looks, well-honed physique, and
his keeping-itreal attitude.  When Chris Evans said that he never did drugs
even once in his life and he drank as little as possible (and only at
social functions), he meant it.  His only vice - apart from good-looking
men - was a weakness for all kinds of cakes.  And, of course, he had all
those fan mails.  Once, they were vulgar propositions from men and women
who enjoyed his sex-themed photos in those so-called gentlemen's rags. 
Now, apart from the usual letters and emails asking him to fuck their
brains out, there was fan mail from genuine health enthusiasts, fitness
professionals that admired his clean-living stance, and fans who wanted
genuine advice as well as his cock in every orifice in their bodies.  Chris
felt like a real and respectable famous person, kinda like those experts on
talk shows like Oprah that people liked and respected.

   Chris was also often called naive, in a good way, by the press, with
descriptions of his naïveté often coupled to mentions of his honesty,
down-to-earth manner, and a keen intelligence that make his naïveté part of
his charm.  Chris, however, didn't really understand that part of his
appeal even if he read those articles about him because...  well, while he
might be smart enough to get to where he was right now, he was nonetheless
a simple and open person with very little concept of grey in life.  And
yes, sometimes he wasn't the smartest person around, a fact that he would
openly admit, just like the fact that he dropped out of high school.  That
aspect of him, who loved to have his life neatly categorized in simple
black and white categories, was the one thorn in his current life.

   He wasn't enjoying his fame as much as he knew he should be.

   Sure, he liked the fact that he was getting laid...  well, not more than
previously since he never had a problem in getting laid even when he was
some nobody in Massachusetts.  He was a good-looking son of a bitch with a
great body, a thick cock, and the stamina of a young bull.  But while he
get laid more than an average guy on the street, he was often restless and
even dissatisfied with the rush of the orgasm was over...  like he was
missing a big puzzle piece that prevented him from seeing a big picture of
some sort.  The feeling intensified and reared its ugly head more often now
that he'd seen how his current employer Cameron Matheson, once a big
playboy, managed to give up his playing the field to remain blissfully
content with a geeky bookworm that lived next door to Cam once upon a time
and ended up capturing the handsome rascal's heart.

   Whenever Chris woke up next to some guy he'd fucked and would forget
about in a few hours time, he remembered that one time when he dropped by
Cam's office late to retrieve his bag that he'd left behind and saw Cam and
his lover Christien Anholt slowdancing to the ballroom music that Christien
liked, oblivious to all but each other.  Chris, who had begun to see Cam as
his role model since Cam was once a physique and fitness model like Chris,
was struck by the expression on Cam's face as the man gazed at Christien
whose cheek was rested on Cam's chest, over the heart, with eyes closed. 
Cam looked like he'd been pierced in the heart with a knife but he was so
fucking happy even as his heart was bleeding openly.  Chris knew that Cam
never even looked at another man even when Cam had plenty of opportunities
to cheat on his lover and Chris had sometimes wondered how Cam could remain
so true and so absolute in his love for an average-looking geek.  When he
saw Cam looking at Christien like he would walk through hell if that was
what Christien wanted of him, Chris started to understand a little why.

   On the other extreme was Cam's business partner Nicholas Wechsler. 
Nicholas intimidated Chris a little at first but once Nicholas warmed up
with Chris, the man revealed a wry and often sharp sense of humor that
could get Chris laughing every time.  Nicholas was fucking his personal
assistant as long as Cam had been sleeping with Christien.  Unlike Cam who
was easy-going and charming, Nicholas was guarded around people.  He was
intense about everything, but his intensity blazed like a sun when it came
to Danny Nucci.  Cam told Chris that once, Danny was nearly run down by a
drunk driver during a night out at the bar.  It was Nicholas who ended up
with two broken legs because Nick didn't hesitate to push Danny out of the
way and put himself in Danny's place as a result and was hit by the car in
the process.  Danny took Nicholas' boxing gloves and pounded the crap out
of the drunk driver a few days later, so he was as crazy as Nicholas when
it came to defending each other to death and taking the blow for each
other's sake.  Chris envied those two.

   Chris was only twenty-four but now he felt like he had been missing out
on some key puzzle pieces in his life that eluded him for so long.  Maybe
it was because he started fucking too early and had too many sexual
encounters that they stopped being special to him, because now he was
intrigued to the point of obsession of the possibility of finding that one
man that would complete him and fill this empty feeling in his soul like
his bosses had found theirs.

   Which was why, without a glance at the man that he'd picked up and
fucked and was now snoring in his bed, Chris switched on his PC and checked
his email.  He had resumed reading as many of his fan mail that he could,
discarding the sexual ones aside after a brief glance to pay more attention
to those that sounded more normal.  He was started to crave for friendship
more than sexual encounters nowadays, and his fan mail allowed him to start
some correspondences that had become some kind of friendship, like his
correspondence with the health buff and physical trainer Lane Carlson that
had him hanging out with that man and the man's friends sometimes.  Lane
was a good-looking son of a bitch but he was also in a relationship that he
had no intentions of losing, which again made Chris intrigued with the
possibility of finding his own right man.  Chris knew that it wasn't wise
to correspond and get too attached to fans, especially when many of them
could be crazy, but he couldn't resist replying to those emails and letters
that weren't too outright sexual, crazy, or outrageous.

   But he was human, and he could make mistakes, he supposed.  He was
composing a response to one Elliott Yamin, some guy a year or two older
than Chris but who found Chris an inspiration for him to start getting in
shape.  A few months ago, Elliott said that he was deaf in his right ear
and he was also diabetic, and Chris inspired him to try and get in shape.
"All my life I'd either been bullied or pitied," Elliott had written, "and
now I think it's time I take control of my life and make myself feel better
if others won't." Recently, he sent Chris a pair of "before" and "now"
photos.  Chris saw a man who some people who immediately consider ugly. 
But to Chris, Elliott was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen.  Elliott's
"before" photo showed a rather scrawny man playing with a dog while the
"now" photo showed Elliott with considerably bulkier physique with
abdominal muscles, pectorals, and shoulders that were starting to be
sculpted nicely.  Would Chris be considered crazy if he admitted that he
had jerked off frequently to that photo of Elliott in baggy knee-length
shorts?  There was nothing sexual about that photo but Chris thought it was
the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.  So much so that sometimes he imagined
that the man he was pumping underneath him was Elliott.

   Elliott's birthday was this Saturday and conveniently enough, he had
been laid off for two weeks now and had nothing much to do for his birthday
other than to send up resumes and feel depressed about life.  Therefore he
had no excuse to avoid Chris when he showed up at Elliott's doorstep to
give Elliott a birthday party the man would never forget.  Chris smiled as
he composed a response to Elliott.  He'd let his visit be a surprise.



   TWO

   Elliott Yamin closed his eyes and pretended that he was playing guitar
for Melissa Ethridge as he sang along with her in his room.  He only opened
them when he heard the buzz from his PC alerting him on an incoming email.
With an intense eagerness that he wasn't proud of, he quickly pounced on
his PC and opened his email program.  Sure enough, it was another email
from chris@chrisevansfitness.com.  A part of him cynically suggested that
the emails from this "Chris" could easily be from some staff member that
was having fun with Elliott, but Elliott really didn't care.  It was a
harmless kind of fantasy to believe that the real Chris Evans was writing
to him, a fantasy that allowed him to believe for a while that he mattered
to someone other than his own family members.  It had been a long time
since he felt that he was worth something and not just some awkward fuck-up
that amused people only as a clown of some sort.  For so long he could only
be someone's friend or lover by joining them in mocking his looks and
weaknesses, he'd love to indulge in a conversation that doesn't have him
laughing with other people about his own weaknesses.  He often didn't
really feel laughter in his soul, and he never knew until too late just how
much he had eroded his own self-esteem by going along with them about the
joke that was Elliott Yamin.  The kid who couldn't hold a serious job, the
kid who dared to dream to be someone when he was clearly a screw-up, and
the kid who was only amusing as the class clown - that was Elliott Yamin to
these people and by joining them in their amusement in his attempt to fit
in with them, he had started to believe those things they said about him.

   It was nice that Chris would write so early in the morning of his
twenty-fifth birthday.  He would spend the rest of the day walking on air,
which was a birthday gift he would always cherish from Chris.  Sure, he was
in lust with Chris.  Who wouldn't be?  The man had the body of a Greek god,
he wasn't afraid to sport a hairy chest when he was not doing some photo
shoots, and he was so humble and down-to-earth in those TV interviews that
Elliott fell in lust with that man from first sight.  He'd bought those
fitness magazines not just for his workout and diet tips (which he
preferred to get from "real" nutritional textbooks anyway) but also to make
his jerk-off sessions much more enjoyable.  That catalogue of pornographic
photos that Chris did a few years back that Elliott paid a few hundred
bucks for from eBay had to be laminated so that Elliott could easily wipe
his come off them whenever he jerked off to them.  Hey, he wasn't proud of
what he did but it was Chris Evans that he was jerking off too.  Surely
there was nothing undignified about paying his homage to such a sex god
like that?

   "Get ready, El, because here I come!  I'm typing this before I head off
in my friend's helicopter to your place.  I'll probably be there by the
time you're reading this since I deliberately set the delayed sending
function for twenty minutes.  Yup, we'll have a fine birthday for you. 
Tell your mother that she won't be seeing you for, oh, this one week or so.
PS: Cancel all your plans," Elliott read.
And as he gasped in disbelief, he heard the sounds of a helicopter

approaching his house as well as the surprised gasps of his mother and
sisters.



   Chris was even better-looking in real life and up close, Elliott
thought, still dazed by the events that happened in the last hour.  Surely,
he'd thought in the past, the real Chris Evans wouldn't be as perfect as
the airbrushed pictures in those photos.  Elliott was wrong.  The real
Chris Evans was a little pale but there was sure sign of him working on a
natural tan, there were a few freckles on the man's cheeks that Elliott
found endearing and maddeningly kissable, but other than that, that body
was still as sexy as Elliott's photos of Chris and the man's smile was as
devastating.  Hell, Elliott was starting to believe that they probably only
had to airbrush Chris' freckles in those photos!

   Compared to the man in his presence, Elliott felt more self-conscious
than ever about his lack of looks and he wanted to shrink into the
helicopter seat.  Meeting this hunk should be the happiest moment of his
life but Elliott was instead very uncomfortable and even embarrassed about
his face, body, and...  well, he was embarrassed about being Elliott Yamin.


   He was so used to being the brunt of jokes and mockery that he failed to
realize that Chris was watching him with desire and not scorn.  Therefore,
he was caught off-guard when Chris broke the ice by telling him, "You look
even more gorgeous than your photo."

   Elliott was so shocked that his instinctive response (he was a naturally
witty fellow, he just didn't have the opportunity to use and fine-tune
wit), "Shouldn't I be the one saying that?" came out in barely
understandable stutters.  "You find me gorgeous?" he finally managed to say
in a croak.

   Chris frowned in surprise.  "You don't think you're gorgeous?"

   "I..." Elliott had to pinch his cheeks, earning him a shout of laughter
from Chris.  Chris' laughter was so infectious and, to Elliott, so
wonderfully free from mockery directed to him that Elliott found himself
laughing along.  They laughed, roared actually, and kept laughing until
Elliott had to stop to breathe.  And Chris breathed with Elliott.  "Why am
I laughing?  God, what am I doing?" Elliott asked aloud.  "I'm not normally
as dumbsounding like this."

   "And I don't normally do this," Chris confessed.  "You're the first
person that wrote to me that I'm meeting."

   "You think I'm gorgeous." Elliott narrowed his eyes.  "This is a joke,
right?" he demanded now as he became more able to think clearly.  "No,
wait, you aren't really Chris Evans, you must be some look-alike sent by
those fuckers to play a trick on me.  How the hell did those guys know that
I am a fan of yours?  Never mind.  Send me back right now.  I've had enough
of all your jokes and - oh!"

   Chris silenced him the best way he knew how: with a kiss.  It was
supposed to be a simple graze of lips, but once Chris felt Elliott's lips
on his, there was no turning back.  The teasing scrape of Elliott's beard
against his face only intensified his sexual awareness of that man, driving
Chris to deepen the kiss by slipping his tongue between Elliott's stunned
lips.  Elliott was stunned at first but he was soon responding to Chris by
kissing Chris back hard as their tongues tasted and seduced each other,
Elliott's flimsy defenses melting with every caress of Chris' tongue and
fingers on his body.  He was wearing baggy shorts that were easily pushed
down enough by Chris to expose his fleshy buttocks for Chris to cup and
knead sensually.  Elliott's trembling hands pressed against Chris'
pectorals, the heat of that man's skin searing Elliott's palms through the
thin fabric of Chris' shirt, before the sudden and painful penetration of a
thick hard cock into his ass caused them to clench and dig into Chris'
skin. Elliott cried out in disbelief and delight as Chris' cock forged
deeper into his ass.  Their fucking was primal and frenzied as both men
wanted for now only to come as soon as possible to slake their urgent lust.
Elliott threw his head back and gritted his teeth as he began riding Chris
like a madman while Chris thrust his hips hard to drive his cock into
Elliott savagely again and again.  Finally they both climaxed violently,
Chris spurting his molten ejaculate with each relentless thrust of his
throbbing cock into Elliott as Elliott's own cock jetted his hot creamy
fluids like a furious volcano until his semen rained onto their cheeks,
down their necks, and down to pool at the juncture where their bodies were
joined in their intimate dance.

   "You are gorgeous," Chris whispered as he held Elliott in his arms while
they both breathed heavily.

   And Elliott, despite his cynicism, couldn't help but to believe that. 
Chris' raw lust for him, uncontrolled and primitive, spoke the truth about
his desirability to Chris far more than any pretty words could.  The fact
that Chris' cock was fast hardening again inside Elliott's pleasantly
ravaged anus was a testament to Chris' honesty.

   "I can't believe that I've just been fucked by you," Elliott said in
awe.

   "Well, I'll just have to convince you some more, I suppose," Chris said
in mock despair.  He pushed Elliott down and mounted Elliott as Elliott
shouted with laughter.  As he began fluidly fucking Elliott again, he made
Elliott believe again and again.



   THREE

   They watched the sunset and had a picnic, completely in the nude, while
enjoying the breeze of the Canadian Rockies.  As they licked peanut better
and jelly from each other's lips, they learned that Chris loved Queen and
Elliott was crazy about Melissa Ethridge and the Indigo Girls.  After their
hands had played with their come-slicked cocks and they had to suck each
other off to cool down, they threw a blanket over them and snuggle for the
night beside the fire.

   "I like reading your emails," Chris said as he rested his chin on
Elliott's shoulder and held the man from behind as they lay there on their
shared sleeping bag, Chris' front against Elliott's back.  "But hearing
your voice is better."

   Elliott chuckled.  Earlier he had sung some songs to amuse Chris and it
did his ego some good to have Chris looking pleasantly surprised to enjoy
his singing so much.  He found himself slipping into the old Elliott Yamin
clownish self, only this time he wasn't making fun of himself to amuse
others as much as he was being free to be himself.  Now, when he was quiet,
Chris allowed him to be quiet, liked it even, and Elliott realized that he
was free to be at peace with himself for the first time.  Chris knew of
Elliott's awkwardness around people because Elliott never hid anything from
Chris in his emails.  But where he was at first terrified that Chris would
realize fully what a loser he was when Chris saw him, Elliott now felt more
at calm with himself and Chris.  Chris hadn't stopped touching Elliott
since seconds into the helicopter ride and now, they both knew that once
they both recovered from their latest fuck, Chris would be driving his
pulsing cock into Elliott's eager asshole or mouth soon enough again. 
Elliott always had a voracious sex drive that he never had the opportunity
to fully indulge, but with Chris, he never had to worry about never getting
enough from that man.  What he wanted, Chris would give and more.  Chris
even didn't mind that Elliott had his baby fat still as the man with the
body of a Greek hero kissed Elliott's gently curved belly hungrily before
teasing Elliott's less than supple pectorals, nibbling and biting gently
Elliott's wine-dark nipples.  One day, maybe Elliott would finally build
his body, but he knew that Chris wouldn't mind if Elliott never managed to
do that.  How could a man so beautiful be so accepting of Elliott's humble
physique?  Elliott didn't know the answer but he would always be grateful
for this, his best birthday present ever.

   As Chris snuggled up to Elliott and whispered into Elliott's ears about
nothing and everything, Elliott realized that Chris was just what he
appeared to be - someone without too much emotional issues.  He was a
content middle-class fellow who happened to do good thanks to genes and
opportunities that made him more fortunate than most people like Elliott.
If Chris retired the next day, he would just be happy being running a
store. He made friends easily, he didn't judge, and he didn't have
Elliott's cynicism that one could easily believe that Chris was indeed a
simple person.  Perhaps Chris needed Elliott because Elliott was the dark
side of him that he needed to be a complete person, just as Elliott needed
Chris to remind him that there was beauty in life in more ways than one. 
As they made love again, this time with Chris lying on his back and lifting
his legs to let Elliott take him, they may not comprehend fully what was
going on but the empty spaces in their lives were slowly vanishing with
each kiss, each touch, and each breath.

   Elliott had to return to Earth, it was inevitable, and he knew he was
forcibly dragged back to reality when Chris' helicopter landed on the
street near Elliott's house and he finally came home.  The neighbors
gathered to look at the celebrity among them and Elliott wasn't blind to
the disbelief of these people when they imagine that Elliott knew someone
like Chris Evans.  He wanted to tell them that he had fucked and been
fucked by Chris for, oh, a thousand times last night, and he even wanted to
somehow show them how his body had been indelibly marked by Chris' touch.
But perhaps that was the fantasy, and reality was when Chris smiled at
these people, charmed them, and even laughed with them as he made them like
him like he always do with people, all the while with his right arm firmly
but definitely around Elliott's shoulder or waist.  How romantic, really,
that Chris, who knew how Elliott felt around these people, was making sure
that they knew how Chris found Elliott good enough to be around.

   When Elliott overheard that bitch James Frank telling his friends that
it was so retarded of Chris to even look at someone like Elliott, Chris'
smile turned reptilian-cold as he told James that perhaps James should look
into a mirror to see what ugliness looked like, Elliott thought that he
might very well fall in love with Chris if he kept being a hero like this.
Chris endeared himself to Elliott's parents throughout dinner and Elliott
wondered why Chris was doing this.  His birthday had long passed and Chris
would be going back to his life while Elliott would have to keep living
his. Chris making himself more of a part of his life would only make it
harder for Elliott to pick up the pieces of his life once Chris left.  "Why
was Chris doing this?" he thought with dismay.  But he knew that he would
take Chris, how much or what Chris had to give him, tonight and always, to
cherish.

   But when Chris told Elliott's parents that he would be taking Elliott
next to a vacation is some exclusive and very expensive resort at this
place called Gull Island, Elliott remembered that Chris had told him to
cancel all his plans for the week.  As Chris' cock started pouring its come
into Elliott's ass soon after they took off in Chris' helicopter, Elliott
stopped thinking and threw his heart, soul, and body into Chris as the man
took Elliott places and showed the man what paradise was.  And at the end
of the week, when Chris proposed to Elliott, Elliott said yes.

   That was how Chris Evans started wearing a wedding ring in a chain
around his neck.  As Chris continued to model and accepted roles in a
handful of movies that caught his fancy, he never took off this chain in
all his photos or his shirtless scenes in his movie roles.  When asked
about the chain, he would proudly point out that it is a talisman of his
feelings for a very special person in his life.  Chris Evans was a simple
guy with simple needs in life.  He just wanted the world, and he found it
in a special man named Elliott Yamin.