Readers, beware. This post contains adult content. You might just have to avert your eyes if they’re sensitive to such things.
His eyes slowly opened and he instantly regretted waking up. The moment the light coming in from the curtains hit him, his eyes seemed to retreat back into the depths of his skull. He didn’t have time to recuperate as his gut suddenly leapt into his throat and he dashed to the toilet where he emptied out last night’s transgressions. He barely made it as his legs wobbled vicariously beneath him.
After all the upheaval, his body automatically leaned backwards and allowed itself to sink to the cool floor. He had been doing that since he was a boy. Something about the cold floor after a vomit that was so relaxing. He tried to open his eyes but they refused.
He moaned for a moment before whispering up to the ceiling, “What happened last night?”
Images flashed inside his head. The lights of the club. The men grinding together on the dance floor. The tables that started the night orderly but soon began their own dances amongst one another.
He met a guy. Danced with one. Or two. Both of their faces kept appearing in his mind. He moaned and took a moment to enjoy the cold floor again. The music from last night echoed between his ears as the faces of the two men danced within the blue and red lights that rattled his brain. He pushed himself off of the floor and tried to lift himself up onto his feet.
His legs wobbled and he felt a pressure behind his groin and he stood bowlegged for a moment before righting himself again.
Blue and red lights. Their faces. The smiles and the sideway glances. Obvious flirting. Hands touching hands. Hips swaying to the music. He closed his eyes as he leaned against the bathroom wall. His cheek pressed against it. The pressure. The music. Red and blue. Smiles. Hands touching. Hips swaying. Cheeks pressed. Pressure. Pressure. Blue. Red. Blue. Red. Blew.
He opened his eyes from the memory and dared to return to the bedroom. His stomach still felt weak and his head still held heavy eyes. His mouth didn’t taste too good.
The music. Smiles. Hands touching. Hips. Cheeks. Blue. Red. Blew. His mouth tasting the sweet drinks.
“I’m never drinking again,” he moaned aloud as he prepared for a shower. “Jeezus, I have such a dead ass. Which one banged my legs bowed?”
He stripped out of last nights clothes. It smelt of stale alcohol, sweat, and slut. He looked into the bathroom mirror, “Yeah, that’s right. Your dead ass agrees.”
He stepped into the shower and smiled. The hot water washed the heavy eyes away for a moment. His stomach seemed to relax. He rinsed his mouth out with the water and washed his backside, whispering down to it, “So which one is the Dead Ass? We’ve got to see him again, don’t we?”
He tried to remember the two men again. One had a charming smile. He remembered because they shared a drink. He couldn’t stop staring at the thick lips as they pressed against the rim of the glass. As they pressed against his own lips. The hot water hit the part of the neck the lips it hit first and trickled down his torso and covered the rest of him.
The other had amazing eyes. He remembered because while they danced they allured him in. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of them as they drew his attention elsewhere. They hypnotised him to see things he never thought he would see. Golden brown against the backdrop of the lights of the club. They called to him to do things he probably wouldn’t do normally without the help of those damn eyes and the drinks in which they brought him.
“You are a bit short, aye?” a voice cut into his memory and he opened his eyes. The water dribbled down his eyelashes and he gasped, running his hands over his face and looking out through the glass of the shower at the rest of the bathroom. “You always dance like that?” “Wow, I thought alcohol made people’s faults disappear?” “You got a bit of food on our chin. Wait, what? That’s a mole? Wow.”
“What a jack ass,” he hissed as the memories flooded the shower floor like the water. He remembered the voice. The words. The criticism. He could do nothing right as the other guy danced with him, drank with him, even while they kissed and explored with each other.
He threw his head back under the water and thought, ‘So which one was the Jack Ass?’
Blue and red. Hips and hands. Against the wall. Hard and haunting. Dead Ass.
Red and blue. Hips and hands. Tongues used more for criticising. Hard and haunting. Jack Ass.
He tried to remember who? Was it the smile? Or was it the eyes? He needed to see one of them again. He needed to experience the ride sober. He had to find him. He’d return to the club tonight. He’d find them. He’d remember their faces and hopefully then remember the lights, the hips and cold, cool wall in which his legs became weak.
The moment he stepped through the door and the lights flashed its colours across the floor, he remembered the area in which he met them. Two of the lights met together. Red and blue. There was a table nearby with a few empty chairs. He weaved his way through the men who caressed him on his way. He checked them out. But Smiles wasn’t there and neither was Eyes. He was disappointed but the thrill of the hunt had him excited again as soon as he found his seat. He sat there scanning the room. There were other beautiful eyes and dashing smiles but they weren’t the ones he was looking for. Smiles and Eyes. Dead Ass and Jack Ass. One he’d be taking home with him when he found out which one was the right one. He was sure of it.
The night went on. He would dare to leave his chair only to order a drink. The shirtless bartender winked at him, “This one is on me,” but he ignored the gesture. He brushed it off because as the red light swung back around it fell on Smiles, a strong man with abs for days. He thanked the bartender quickly, downed his drink and made his way over to the red light as it swivelled its way across the floor. He joined Eyes. They swivelled as well. And it all came back to him. The night before. Red. Red. Red. Hips and hands. Those eyes. Eyes. Alluring. Calling him back with him. To a wall. Not the same cold wall. But a wall nonetheless and they pressed against each other. The pressure. Red. Blue. Red. Blew.
“Sorry!” Eyes said as he tried to help clean up his pant leg. “Maybe if you were quicker!”
He grimaced and slid away from the wall and walked away.
Jack Ass.
“Well that was disappointing,” he murmured to himself as he returned back out onto the dance floor. He wasn’t there long before the blue light spiralled around him and that’s when he saw the smile. Smiles. Lean and inviting. Warm and embracing. They spiralled around each other. This guy had to be it. His legs wobbled in anticipation and he couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled Smiles away from the dance floor and out the back.
He walked quickly, his hand clutching at Smiles’ hand tightly until they found the right wall. He threw himself against it and dropped the back of his pants. He waited. His legs trembled in anticipation until a voice shouted into his ear to compete against the music, “I’m sorry but your ass is just way too fat! There’s no way I’d get in!”
He spun around but Smiles was already walking away.
Jack Ass.
He returned to the main room and returned to the bar. The shirtless bartender winked at him again. He offered him another drink. It was on the house again. He waved a thank you and sat down at an empty stool nearby and drank his frustrations away. But if none of them gave him a dead ass than who? He tried to remember last night again.
Red and blue. Men grinding against men. Drink upon drink. Smiles. Eyes. Both Jack Asses. Both unappealing. He returned to the bar that had given him all his drinks. Smiles and Eyes hadn’t bought him those drinks. Someone else had.
Dead Ass.
Another glass pressed against his hand and he looked up at the shirtless bartender who leaned in real close and yelled, “Last night was amazing!”