Mechanics of the Heart Ch. 02

Simon laughed, leaning against the sink counter in his small kitchen.

"That was before he met Roberto and I met Trevor." Richie said, his nostalgic tone turning melancholic. "And then everything changed."

About a month ago, the blond met Simon at an audiovisual studio complex. The singer was laying down backup vocals for another artist's album in one of the studios, while a room over, Richie was doing some post-production editing for a celebrity TV special. They met at the snack machine, where they both wanted the last bag of regular chips that was in there. The older man let the younger one buy it, then Richie shared the small bag with Simon.

At a time when Richie was secretly and terribly missing his best friend, Simon reminded Richie of an older version of Danny. Being the extrovert that he was, Richie quickly invited the singer to his friend Ben's house party that night; as fate would have it, Simon was already invited to the same party, by Ben's new boyfriend Matt. Ever since then, they'd been hanging out regularly.

"You two have been friends since Grade 5, right?"

"Yeah. We bonded over Powerpuff Girls. We were born gay!" Richie giggled.

"That's funny," Simon replied. "Well, in my opinion, and you can take it or leave it, but in my opinion, I think you should talk to him." The 31-year-old turned off the tap. "I don't wanna come off all preachy or anything, but, that's a long time to be friends with someone, and it's...I think it's worth fighting for, I do. I mean, you guys are best friends...or were..." Simon went to the beeping microwave.

"I know, I know! It's just hard." Richie paused. "We never ever fought, y'know? Like, never. So this...this is really awkward. I don't know what to say to him. And he's changed so much, into a totally different person...I told you already."

"Yeah, you did. But, honestly, I think you should just call him. I think it'd be a shame if you just let it go, without talking first."

"Yeah, yeah, I will..." There was some rustling on the line. "Wait, did we figure out our plans tonight?"

They settled on Toga, the biggest gay club on the strip. It was pop night for Friday, which was good for Simon since he had no interest whatsoever for their progressive house night on Saturdays. They then decided that Richie would meet Simon at his bachelor pad after supper and a shower, head over to Ben's place in the gay village to predrink, and go out to the club.

Richie was half an hour late in meeting Simon; he blamed his hair, which he was trying to grow out, and suburban traffic, which was chaotic after the storm. He was dressed in tight dark jeans and a high-contrast top with green and purple zigzags that hung off one shoulder. It was evident that he used a lot of product in his wavy hair.

Simon, as Richie expected, was dressed conservatively, in a navy short-sleeve shirt buttoned all the way up, a gold bowtie, and khakis. He also had a bottle of vodka in a paper bag.

"So tell me about what happened with your job...the music showcase one," the blond asked as they headed towards the gay village.

Simon looked off into the distance. "Well...I basically just left. I couldn't take it anymore. It just got to a point where...I was being used, and things were never going to change." They sprinted across an intersection. "...and what made it hard was, I had feelings for my boss..."

"And he's straight?"

"Yeah, but he took advantage of that too. It was just wrong," Simon sighed.

"Straight guys are the worst...the curious ones." Richie shook his head. "And they have that whole macho thing going on, which is so hot, but...ooh, I've met a few that I shouldn't have."

Simon nodded, eyebrows raised. "You're talking to someone dumb enough to waste two years of his life on one. And where did that get me?" He paused for effect. "Nowhere."

They walked in silence for a while. A beautiful summer night was emerging from the aftermath of the frightful storm: clear skies and a warm breeze gliding through the air. The pair skirted and skipped over the puddles everywhere. Despite the severe weather just a few hours prior, people were already out and about to enjoy the start of the weekend, chatting on restaurant patios, riding bikes, walking hand in hand.

"So what are you gonna do now?" the blond asked.

Simon sighed and rolled his eyes. "Good question." He glanced through the window of a used CD store. "I dunno... I think I wanna go back to school, actually."

"Yeah? Studying what?"

"Good question," Simon replied, then laughed.

"What do you like besides singing?" Richie asked. They stopped at an intersection.

"Not much...I mean, music's my life."

"Hey, maybe you can be a music teacher," Richie said, as they began walking again.

Simon nodded. "Yeah, I thought of that. I dunno if I need to go back to school for that. And I'll need to save up if I do..." He groaned. "I'll need to get another job."

"Aren't you working two jobs already?"

"Well, the music stuff, the backup singing, it's not steady, so I really just have my serving gig now. I'll need something else to pay for rent, on top of saving up for school." Simon was never a numbers guy, and the reality of his financial situation began to stress him out.

"Want me to ask around my department, see if there are any openings?"

Simon turned to Richie. "Umm, sure." He didn't think he had the education for a job at Richie's television channel. "Thanks, that's so nice of you."

Richie smiled and patted Simon's shoulder.

20 minutes later, they got to Ben's two-bedroom condo. The usual gay party crowd was already there, getting drunk in the kitchen and the TV room. Simon started on his bottle, doing shots with Richie, Ben, Matt, and other friends; he didn't want the calories from any juice mix, and he downed the shots quickly, knowing very well that the only way to enjoy the night with this rowdy bunch was to get plastered.

There were drinking games and YouTube singalongs and lots of selfies for Instagram. At one point, Simon wanted to ask Richie something, but he couldn't find him anywhere. He asked if anyone saw the blond; Ben replied that he saw him step out. The singer tottered out the door and drunkenly headed down the hallway.

He had no idea where he was going. Then he remembered that the condo indoor pool was also on this floor; he thought he'd look there. Turning a corner, Simon found who he was looking for, behind the glass wall that separated the pool area.

Richie was the only person in there, sitting on a pool chair, talking on the phone. Simon opened the door and walked in. Humid chlorine permeated his senses.

Dropping into the chair beside Richie's, the singer leaned back and waited impatiently for the blond to end the call. Richie mostly spoke in hushed monosyllables, before hanging up a minute later.

"We're hanging out tomorrow," Richie said, leaning back as well.

'Who?"

"Danny and me."

"Oh. That's good!"

"Yeah..." the blond breathed. "That call was the most awkward thing ever."

"Well..." the singer turned to his new friend; his head felt warm and numb from the alcohol. "I'm happy you talked to him."

The blond smiled back and patted Simon's shoulder.

"Richie?"

"Yeah?"

"Shit...I forgot what I was going to ask you!"

"Drunk bitch," Richie snorted, then burst out in laughter. Simon joined in, before he heard his cell phone beep.

It was a text message from Nicole. "Hey you didn't say bye this morning! How are you? Jae asked about you."

"Oh! Jae asked about me!!" Simon exclaimed, falling back on the chair, grinning hard.

"Who's Jae??" Richie asked eagerly, leaning in close.

"He's hot!" Simon said emphatically. "I saw him naked last night!"

"Woo!! And??"

"He was masturbating!!" The wasted singer burst out laughing; Richie followed.

"Haha...ohh...but seriously, Richie, oh FUCK this guy is hot! He's like, a Korean jock..."

"Ooh!" Richie whistled.

"Who's ever seen a Korean jock?? Not me!! Oh man, if I could have my way with him..." Simon smacked his lips and shook his head.

"Then why don't you?" Richie challenged. "See, I always say this to Danny: just go for it! What's the worst that can happen??" He looked at Simon. "You get fuckin' rejected...so what? There's so many other hot guys!"

"Oh man, I wish..." The singer drew in a deep breath, fantasizing about what he wanted to do to Jae. "I would, Richie, I really would..."

Then he slapped his forehead. "But I don't know if he's gay! Or even who he likes..." His right hand waved in the air. "He's dated a few girls back out west or somethin'..."

"Well, just get him drunk and make out with him," Richie suggested.

"Have YOU ever done that?" Simon questioned, looking at his friend.

"Pssh yeah!" Richie replied, eyes wide open, looking at the singer like he was stupid.

"With a straight guy?"

"YEAH!! Omigod trust me; what's the worst that can happen?? You never see the guy again. Onto the next!"

Simon paused, then looked away. After a moment, he quietly said, "We're kinda friends." He remembered the talk they had in Jae's room. "He's really nice actually."

Richie shrugged. "Maybe you guys can be friends with benefits or something." He slowly got up off the chair. "Is your vodka all done?"

"I dunno. There was some left when I left, to find you."

"Let's finish that bottle and head out to Toga," the blond said, holding onto the chair arm to get up.

"Wait, I gotta text Nicole back!" Simon declared. He quickly typed a reply.

"Hey sorry I left early this morning didn't want to wake you. Tell Jae I'm ok I'm going to Toga."

Back at Ben's condo, the two friends emptied the vodka bottle, then rounded up several other tipsy gays, and marched over to Toga two blocks down. By that point, the singer couldn't remember how in the world he got in and paid cover. He somehow found himself on the 3rd floor, where they blasted urban tracks. In the pitch blackness pierced by whirling multicolored rays of light, people twerked it on the dancefloor.

Simon got nasty too; he remembered shaking his ass, then getting down on all fours and grinding his groin high in the air when A$AP Rocky came on. People were cheering and clapping around the singer. When he realized everyone was watching, he quickly got up and went to the bar, dodging glances and outstretched hands with his head down.

While waiting for his glass of water, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Those were some sweet moves."

Simon turned around to face the voice. He desperately wished that somehow, it would be Jae.

"Wanna show me how to do that?" the man said when the singer faced him.

It wasn't Jae, but Simon knew who he was. Heavily bearded, in his late-thirties, with a tall, husky figure, his name was Luke James. He was the Editor-in-Chief of Queeries, the glossy gay weekly.

Luke was very well-known on the strip and even beyond, actively involved on the boards of several social organizations, present and smiling in various photo ops promoting diversity, culture, or health. Without a doubt, he was one of the most recognizable faces of the local queer community. He and his friends also hosted the annual Bear Ball.

It was an understatement to say that Luke's social status and charisma, as well as his bright blue eyes, drew many admirers, even those who weren't normally into bears. Thus, Simon was taken aback that Luke was giving him the time of day.

Simon nodded at the editor's request. They walked back to the dancefloor, Luke's hand gently resting on the small of the singer's back. Once there, they began swaying against each other, Simon a bit drunkenly.

"What's your name?" Luke whispered into the singer's ear, leaning down.

"Simon." The cologne Luke was wearing titillated the 31-year-old.

"I'm Luke," the bear continued. Simon was too drunk and shy to tell him he knew that.

It'd been so long since the singer danced with someone. The last two years were all spent working for Jesse and other jobs; he was always too tired to go out dancing after a long day. Before that, Simon danced by himself; people preferred to watch his moves than dance with him.

Luke was one handsome slim bear, but he was so much more than that. Cute guys were everywhere, but Luke possessed a rare kind of confidence, a sort of grace that hinted at years of experience and reserves of masculine strength and endurance under his effortless movements, speech, and gaze. Looking up at the smiling man, Simon felt there was a whole world to discover behind those baby blues.

"What's up?" Luke asked with a grin.

The singer shook his head, smiling.

"You're cute," the editor said. He leaned in for a kiss on the cheek. "I haven't seen you around before."

Simon wanted those warm lips on him again. "I haven't gone out in a while," he replied.

"I hear ya. I haven't been out much myself lately. Can't keep up with the young'uns," Luke continued, chuckling while looking around him. Several guys were staring first at him, then at the small black man he was dancing with.

Luke then looked straight into Simon's eyes. "Though I'm glad I came out tonight."

The singer shivered, feeling weak under the gaze and the solid but gentle arms around his body.

"Me too," Simon responded. He felt like a kid again, peering out from his shell at a big wide world of exciting possibilities.

"Listen," Luke said, leaning into the singer's ear, "You wanna sit down and chat for a bit, at my place? We can have a drink, listen to some music...and you can show me your moves again."

Goosebumps rippled through the 31-year-old's arms and shoulders. This was all going too well, too fast. There had to be a catch.

Still, he smiled up at Luke and nodded.

After sending Richie a quick text to say he was sleeping over at a friend's place, Simon left Toga with Luke. A few blocks and an elevator ride later, they were at Luke's apartment.

The singer had had so much to drink, and was so worn out from everything that had happened in the last 24 hours, that when Luke opened the front door, Simon headed straight for the sofa and collapsed on it, passing out immediately.

Luke shook his head in disbelief, then chuckled.

When Simon woke up, he took a few seconds to whip his head around, trying to figure out where he was. He was on a king-sized bed, in a bedroom with a simple but elegant wood-themed decor. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves completely covered one wall. A big painting dominated the wall facing the bed, a serene scene of deer in a thick forest.

Sunlight was coming through the window. He could hear the shower running.

Gradually, last night's events came back to him. He sat up and looked for his phone and his wallet; they were still in his khaki pockets. He then saw that he was still in last night's clothes.

Checking the time on his phone (it was around ten in the morning), he saw a text from Richie:

"Play safe!"

Simon snickered.

The running shower stopped. Immediately, the wheels started turning in the singer's head: should he pretend to be asleep when Luke comes in? Should he get up? Get up and leave right now? Or stay put?

Too late; Luke came in, wrapped only in a white towel. His bearded face was slightly flushed, still moist.

Simon took in the sights; the stocky chest, the big arms, the thick legs, all swathed in dark brown hair. The singer's roving eyes fixated on Luke's dense treasure trail.

"Mornin' there," the editor greeted. Then he whipped off his towel and tossed it on the bed.

"Morning," Simon squeaked, averting his glance.

"You were out like a light," Luke continued, opening a drawer beside the bed.

"I'm so sorry." The singer snuck a peek at the flaccid dick hanging not far from his face. It was uncut, and around six inches soft.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Luke said, climbing into a pair of dark green boxers. "It was kinda funny though." There was a glint in his marvellous blue eyes.

The singer groaned, embarrassed.

"Did you sleep well?" the editor asked. He opened the closet door.

Simon continued to survey the topless bear. He had a slim layer of fat over his big torso; from the thickness of his arms and shoulders, it was easy to see that Luke was a strong guy.

The singer imagined being dominated by him in bed. He swallowed, wondering if the editor still found him attractive the morning after.

"Yeah. Thank you," Simon said quietly, at once relieved and disappointed when Luke slipped on a tee. It was green, a lighter shade than the boxers, and had a v-neck that gave a mouthwatering view of his copious chest hair.

"Are you always this quiet?" Luke asked, turning around. He was grinning.

Simon didn't know how to answer. "Sorry, I..."

"Stop apologizing." Luke's eyes did a once-over on the singer.

"Sor...okay. I was gonna say, that, no, I'm not usually this quiet. I'm just...still waking up..." Simon shifted slightly. "...still trying to remember everything, and..." He looked down. Luke waited.

Taking a breath, Simon finally blurted, "It's been awhile since I've woken up at a guy's place,"

"Oh," Luke responded. He turned back to the closet and grabbed a pair of faded jeans. "Well, sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

"Oh no, not at all," Simon quickly affirmed.

The editor smiled, zipping up his jeans. "Good, 'cos I wanna get to know you some more. We didn't get a chance to chat last night..." Luke raised an eyebrow. "...but what do you say about having brunch?"

Simon blinked and gave Luke the once-over. Luke James, Editor-in-Chief of Queeries, one of the most well-known, well-respected gays in the city, was offering to have brunch with him. Two days ago, if someone had told him this would happen, he would've rolled his eyes and laughed it right off.

Good riddance to Jesse, indeed.

He thought about how his gay crew would react and what they would do, even the attached ones like Richie or Ben.

"Sure," Simon answered with a smile.

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Hope you're enjoying the story so far! Lots more drama and filthy sex to cum ;) Feedback is always welcomed.