High Society

“OW!”



Zeke glared at Danny, who was shaking his just-smacked-away hand and pouting at him. “Don’t gimmee that look,” Zeke said. He snatched up the salt shaker, raising his eyebrows. “Now ask.”



Rolling his eyes, Danny slumped back in his seat and gave Zeke a sarcastic, too-wide grin. “Oh please, oh please, oh please, may I have the salt, Ezekiel?”



“Hmm.” Zeke put the shaker in front of the boy, who stuck his tongue out at him before salting his chicken soup.



Casey chuckled and tucked into his own lunch eagerly. He hadn’t been hungry at breakfast, but now he was ravenous. His first, huge bite of his sandwich didn’t go unnoticed; James snorted. “Hungry, Casey?”



“Mmhmm,” Casey managed to hum past the mouthful. He swallowed it down with a swig of milk and sat back. “Just a bit.”



“Afternoon, boys,” Stephen, now walking into the room, said. He was greeted with hums and waves, everyone too busy eating to speak. “I see that you’re all enjoying your lunch.”



More nods and hums. The man smiled. “Good. Come on into my office when you’re through, all right?”



The hums turned to groans. Stephen grinned and left; Danny was the first to swallow and speak. “All right, WHEN are we going to get paid for these unceasingly boring-as-hell meetings?” he asked.



“Eh, it’s probably to let us know that the commissioner’s given up the good-boy route and wants a BAD-boy instead,” James said.



“We can hope,” Danny said.



“Ugh, are you kidding? Have you seen the man? His picture was in the paper,” Zeke said; he shook his head and finished the last of his soup, then took the napkin from his lap to slap it down on the table. “He looks like a big, fat Teddy Roosevelt with enough facial hair to make a few hundred wigs.”



Sounds of distaste filled the air. It wasn’t long until they were all comfortably fed and heading to the office, where they found Stephen at his desk. In his hand was a large envelope; he smiled wide at the boys’ arrival. “Sit down, everyone. We’re to go over some rules.”



Confused glances were exchanged, but the group followed Stephen’s command. The man stood up and tapped the envelope in the air. “As it turned out, the Fenwick brothers weren’t just declared innocent, but they were able to return to business moments after our police friends gave their apologies and left,” he explained. “Which means, they were able to take a customer to develop certain photos that were dropped off yesterday evening.”



Everyone sat up, their interests perked immediately. “Y’mean…” Danny said with mounting excitement.



“Eh! Rules!” Stephen’s commanding voice and finger raised to silence them quelled the storm of joy rising, for the moment. “First off, these could be seen as proof for anyone interested in getting it--law officials, in particular. As much as I’d love to frame them and decorate the parlor with them… as they DID come out nicely…” He wore a wry smile as he went on. “…That could land us in a heap of trouble, should we ever get raided.”



“A’right, a’right, no advertising. Next??” Henry said.



“Doubles were made of each to not start a million arguments. You choose whichever shots you’d like to have for yourselves then keep them in your ‘getaway bags’,” Stephen said. “You may show some customers tonight if you wish, but they’re not to be given out for any price whatsoever. They head straight to your rooms, into your bags and are kept safe.”



“Okay!” Danny said. Everyone began buzzing, some hands even wringing with impatience as Stephen went on.



“Lastly, and this is more your choice than anything; if we have to run from the law, it’d be in your best interests to get rid of them. And not in a trash bin on the corner of Fifth and Broadway, but through more permanent means. Even if you yourself don’t mind having them around, whoever is in the picture WITH you may not want to be seen… as they are, in the picture. I can’t control that, however, so it’d be up to you and your good judgment. Now… are we clear?”



Everyone nodded and smiled, Casey included. His fingers itched in wanting to see how these photos came out. Finally, after a long sigh, the large envelope was opened and the pictures laid out on Stephen’s desk. The boys stood up in a shot and clambered over, making the master of the house laugh. “No hitting, kicking or bickering! Just… enjoy.”



Hands scrambled to grab at the photos until Noah signed frantically to Casey, who relayed the message. “No fingerprints, guys! Be careful!” This calmed things, a little. Jamie was first to lift a picture up and peer at it.



“Ooh! Me and Zekie-boy, lovely shot,” he said.



Casey rolled his eyes and flicked through the glossy shots; he knew which ones he was dying to see. He glanced Zeke’s way, finding him looking over Jamie’s shoulder and smirking. It made him search faster, finally coming across…



Oh. Casey lifted the black and white image of he and Zeke, tongues extended and glistening in the low-light. The comments from the others, even ones involving his name, drifted off to nowhere.



Their eyes were barely open, slits of white showing; Casey looked at the grip Zeke had on Casey’s hair, strands of it escaping and decorating the older boy’s fingers. Noah; a master photographer. With his thighs growing warm, he picked up the stack he’d found the picture in and swallowed. More shots of their kiss, some up-close, some more distant. It made his eyes tremble in his sockets. Zeke was more than gorgeous… and Casey was struck by his own beauty, something he’d never really seen in himself. Even if customers complimented him, it was never easy to convince anyone that they were good-looking.



“Hey! Me and the toilet!” Danny suddenly cried. Everyone looked over and groaned.



“Disgusting!” Jamie said.



“I think it’s HOT,” Danny replied, giggling like an idiot.



Zeke now wandered over to Casey, looking blank, even unsure. “How’d they come out?” he asked.



“Pretty good,” Casey said, trying to sound as casual as possible as he handed Zeke the stack he’d been looking through. He watched Zeke’s expression as he leafed through them, which didn’t say much. Blank, as always. Casey had hoped to see some kind of emotion or reaction, but it was as if Zeke was looking at still-life pictures instead of sexually-charged, erotic poses.



“Aw… lookit that.”



Casey looked over to James and swallowed. The last shot taken from their session, THE shot. Zeke looked up as well and froze at the sight of he and Casey, lying in bed looking like the most natural, comfortable couple that had ever lived. There wasn’t even anything all that sexual about it, besides their being shirtless and unbuttoned. Otherwise, they weren’t rent boys, but lovers.



“So sweet!” Danny said. “Wait, when was that?”



“When everyone had gone,” James said, waggling his eyebrows.



“Ooh, you cheaters!” Danny exclaimed.



Casey smiled as Zeke took the picture and stared at it. It was then that his attention was stolen by Noah, who nudged Casey’s arm and attention his way. In his hands sat a few pictures, all of them somewhat recognizable but blurred. The ones of him becoming a photo-shoot subject. Sighing with disappointment, Casey looked at Danny. “Hey! I thought you’d said that you were ‘professional’,” he said, showing off the blurry images.



“Well--I--come on now, they’re not THAT bad!”



‘I like them enough,’ Noah told Casey with a smile. ‘It’s a bit… artsy.’



Casey sighed and shrugged; the perusing of photos continued on for some time, everyone retreating to the couches and chairs to have a laugh or to coo with approval. After Casey made his choices--fighting with Danny over one particular saucy shot from the foursome he, Danny, Henry and James had made of themselves--he placed the extras on the desk and went over to Zeke. “Make your choices?” he asked.



“I dunno.”



“Well, it isn’t hard. Just pick the ones of you and…stuff,” Casey said. He sat next to Zeke and stole a look at the picture Zeke was staring at. A pause followed; he was still looking at that final photo, expression remaining unreadable. Casey turned his eyes up to stare at the boy, who looked back. With a clenching of his jaw, Zeke handed Casey the photo and stood up.



“I don’t need ‘em.” He stretched his arms and nodded to the stairs. “Come on, let’s have another painting lesson.”



All Casey could do was blink wildly after the boy, who left the hubbub of the parlor and disappeared upstairs.





~*~





Zeke shook his head. “No, curl the brush around, make the line thinner. Don’t stop in the middle; it’ll look too choppy.”



“’K,” Casey mumbled, then followed the instruction. The rose he was making, while not professional in the slightest looked like a rose, at least. He worked from the inside to the outside, making pink petals bloom on the paper. After a long moment of silent concentration, he finished and held the pad out to survey it. “Not… bad?” he said in a questioning voice. Zeke made a small, unsure smile.



“For your third lesson, no. Not bad.”



“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”



“Well, next time, try this…”



Casey allowed Zeke to take his hand and move it to the clear spot underneath the picture he’d made. Zeke pressed down lightly upon one of Casey’s knuckles to edge the brush along and create a thick line, then released it to make it go thin. In looking at Zeke’s hand, Casey noticed that it wasn’t trembling--it looked fine. “See?” Zeke said after pulling away. Casey nodded.



“Yea, nice,” he said.



“’K, try mixing some colors to paints the insides. Go with a darker pink.”



Once again, Zeke showed Casey how to mix, emptying the rest of the white into a smaller pool of red. Instead of having Casey do it, Zeke brought a brush to the mixture and explained as he went along. Again, his hand was still and accurate in its movements. When the brush was handed back to Casey, Zeke sat back and lit a cigarette. “Go on.”



“All right,” Casey said.



“Just dot it in at first, test it out--then take some gentle strokes to fill it in.”



Casey paused and looked at the blank petal Zeke pointed to. Biting his lip, he took one glance to Zeke, placed his wrist on the pad and made a large splotchy mark upon the spot. “Oops,” he said. He hoped he sounded convincing enough.



“It’s okay, try again with another,” Zeke told him.



“Hmm,” Casey hummed. He creased his brow for effect and leaned in closer. Another too-hard splotch was made and Zeke groaned.



“Casey. Seriously, not that hard,” Zeke said.



“Sorry, I’m too used to oils. This stuff’s too watery.”



“Hence its name, watercolors…?”



Casey half-grinned. He made one more ‘attempt’, which came out worse than the first two. Zeke, groaning with impatience, took the brush from Casey’s hand and put it to a petal. “Seriously, like this…”



Who was Zeke kidding, with his self-defeatist attitude and ‘I can’t’s? The way his fingers worked, tiny movements and the accurate placing of the paint said nothing but ‘expert’. Injuries or no, the boy still had it. The flesh of the flower came out perfect, but Zeke, in his ignorance to what Casey was doing, took the brush back to the paint to snatch a dot of white. It was put at the edge to make the flower more three-dimensional. When he finished, his hand stopped dead and he looked up to find Casey smiling at him. “What?”



“Nothing.”



“I’m just…” Zeke’s brow creased into a heavy frown. The brush was dropped, leaving it to roll into Casey’s lap.



“Hey, careful--”



“You did that on purpose,” Zeke said with accusation. He stood up, plucked his cigarette from the ashtray and glared down at Casey. “You did. Pretending to be a screw-up. Huh.”



“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,” Casey replied.



“You did.”



“And YOU did. Do it, meaning,” Casey said. He lifted the picture for Zeke to see. “You still have it.”



“That was one fucking second’s worth of work. The thing would look like an unrecognizable blob if I had to try and finish it,” Zeke coldly replied. Now, his hands started quaking. Casey looked at them and bit his lip.



“Whenever you’re nervous… that’s when it happens.” He put the paper down and looked at Zeke with soft eyes. “When you’re calm, concentrating--you’re fine.”



Zeke scowled and took a heavy drag. “You think you know, huh?”



“No, I KNOW I know.”



“You know shit,” Zeke said. “Wanna see how good I’d do if I kept at it?”



Before Casey could say anything, the pad was snatched, along with the brush. After dabbing it into the paint clumsily, Zeke put it to the page and dragged it around in jerks. The sight of Zeke’s act of frustration made Casey grab the pad back, causing the brush to make one long, thick line from the rose to the bottom. Zeke smiled as if he’d done something good. “See?”



“Yea. Yea, I see.”



“Good--”



“I see that you want everyone to think that you can’t do anything right, for whatever messed-up reason. That you want the world to think that you’re nothing but a fuck-up.”



Zeke’s nose twitched. “Because I am.”



“No--I said ‘think’ and ‘want’, not ‘you are’. You could make a perfect copy of the Mona-fucking-Lisa and sell it for a million dollars if you wanted to, and you know it,” Casey said, practically spitting the words. “But this is a safer route, isn’t it, this pretending that you can’t do it?”



“Lesson’s over,” Zeke abruptly said. He began packing up the tools and capping off the paints, fingers gone from a mild shake to a violent one. The small cap he was trying to work with spun from the tube and fell to the floor. He knelt down to get it, struggling with the stubborn, rolling item.



“Just stop. Stop and concentrate and you’ll do fine.” Casey moved to the edge of the bed and put a hand on Zeke’s back. It was bowed like an angry animal’s, but he did nothing but tremble under Casey’s touch. “Zeke… why do you do this to yourself?” he asked. “You’re a gorgeous, talented young man and you refuse to acknowledge it.”



“I don’t wanna hear this.”



“Why?”



Zeke sniffed and bent back up, knees still on the floor. He looked to Casey and swallowed. “I don’t have any big answers, nothing. Why can’t you just accept that I don’t? You keep… prodding me, like I’m cattle, and I’m sick of it,” he said. “You won’t do what everyone else is doing and just leave me the hell alone.”



With a sad frown, Casey blinked and replied, “Maybe it’s because I care about you. Is that so bad?”



“You can’t care about me--because I don’t care about me. You wanna get your head all mixed-up trying to wrap it around me?” Zeke said. He then rolled his eyes and stood up then went to his bed, lighting another cigarette. “Cal may be a jackass in my opinion, but he’d give you the shit you need; you want love and attention, and why the fuck not, right? That’s what everyone wants in the big scheme of things. It’s natural. But it ain’t for me.”



“You’re ridiculous. You really are.” Casey put his papers and paintbrushes aside, stood and went over to Zeke. He sat beside him, bringing a knee up to his chin. “I’m not doing anything abnormal or wrong, trying to get you to see reason. Maybe I was lucky, having a nice family, even if it made me a little naïve. But… even if I’m here, doing what I’m doing, it doesn’t mean that I have to be jaded and angry. And neither do you.”



It went quiet between them for a moment. Casey snatched up Zeke’s cigarettes, not wanting to leave his side to get his own. The older boy said nothing, choosing to hunch onto his thighs on his elbows, eyes set on the floor. With the cigarette lit, Casey went to continue speaking but stopped when Zeke cleared his throat. “Don’t think that I don’t appreciate it. Okay? I just don’t want you to waste your time. There’re a lot of things you could do, once on your feet and this goddamned Depression goes away. In a few years when I’m tapped-out and too old to be a ‘boy’ around here, maybe I’ll find my niche. But it’s never gonna get beyond anything more than living by the skin of my teeth, and I’ve accepted that.” He paused to look back at Casey with a thoughtful gaze. “But thanks, okay?”



“It’s not okay. But fine. I’ll go on pretending it is, if it makes you feel better,” Casey replied. He stood up, giving up, and began gathering the brushes to wash. “Just know that I think you’re full of shit.”



“Mmkay,” Zeke said, his sly smile returning. Normally Casey loved to see it, but now, he needed to turn away and leave Zeke in favor of the sinks. He didn’t want the paint on the tools to dry and damage them, and if he had to look any longer at that smirk he’d end up hitting Zeke as hard as he could, screaming at him to see reason, that he loved him, ‘Let’s run away together, for fuck’s sake!’…



But Zeke was right; Casey had to find a happy medium, somewhere. Caring about someone that didn’t care about themselves could be dangerous, even heartbreaking when god damn it, why couldn’t he see himself the way Casey did?





~*~





“This is driving me nuts.”



Casey stopped sipping his drink and looked to James, who was staring at the couch on the far end of the room. Following his gaze, he snorted in amusement. “Paul, again?”



“Ugh,” James said, groaning. “I was sitting on the couch with Clark, doing the usual--and he just kept watching us.”



“Isn’t that what he always does?”



“Well yes, but--that damned scrawling,” James said; he nodded to the scribbling man, whose attentions now rested on Henry and Jamie. The two men with them were on either side, enjoying the sight of the two boys cuddling and kissing. Not fuck-parlor material, but enticing enough. They’d probably be bought together in a ‘package deal’ any minute now. All the while, Paul sat watching with a blank expression, though his focus on them was so intense that it sent shivers up Casey’s spine. “So…” James interrupted his concentration. He padded his pocket where the envelope of his pictures rested within. “Show anyone your pictures yet?”



“Oh… no,” Casey said then chuckled. “It’s been slow for a Friday, hasn’t it?”



“Mmm. I suppose so…”



As James kept rambling about why Clark hadn’t bought time with him yet, wondering if he was broke, Casey returned to watching Paul. He tried to see past the strange, almost creepy exterior; why was he here? What did he want? There was only so much ‘peeping’ someone could do before giving in and buying a boy’s time, at least in Casey’s mind. Even if he wasn’t made of money and did prefer watching…



Casey blinked when Paul frowned a little and squirmed in his seat, then reached between his legs to do a quick adjustment. Smiling, Casey turned to James and interrupted him to say, “It appears that our Peeping Paul is getting more excited than usual.”



James stopped speaking to look back at Paul. “Hmm. Perhaps,” he said, then looked at Casey with mischievous eyes. “I dare you to try to proposition the bloke.”



“Huh? I have…?”



“No, REALLY proposition him… give him no choice,” James said. “You’re cute enough to make him crack, I’m sure. If he’s having trouble keeping himself calm, imagine… and I’d be willing to bet he’s an animal in the sack.”



“But do I WANT to is the issue.”



“What… are you scared, Casey-boy?”



The boy’s taunting tone and giggles set Casey’s jaw in defiance. He never much liked being challenged like this, because he’d always take the challenge on--with disastrous results, half the time. Feeling as if he had no choice, Casey narrowed his eyes and grinned. “I’ll show you how scared I am,” he said.



“Ooh…” James cooed and watched Casey walk off towards the couch.



Getting closer--oh yes, Paul was having trouble. He was frowning hard, so unlike the blank face he always wore. Wearing his best, most coy smile and moving his hips in an alluring fashion, Casey went over to see if he could ease Paul’s ‘woes’. The man wasn’t expecting Casey to plop down right next to him, showing such when he jumped and darted his head over to look at him. This wasn’t the time to be cautious; Casey had a dare to live up to.



“Are we having a hard time, love?” Casey asked.



“I… I’m just… here to watch. Thank you,” Paul replied. His voice was still very quiet but nervous instead of creepy-calm, making Casey smile.



“Aw, now… it looks as if you’re having problems with just watching.” Casey moved in closer until his thigh was pressed up against Paul’s. “I could help you with that.”



“I’m just watching,” Paul sternly hissed, dropping the usual ‘thank you’. He made to squirm away, dragging himself to the arm of the couch. When Casey smiled and went to put a hand on his leg, the man stood up in a shot, looking panicked. That was when something fell from the leg of his trousers and landed by his feet. Casey looked down and went incredibly still; a sock lie there, bunched-up with string to create a phallic object. When Casey drew his eyes up Paul’s legs, he almost gasped in shock when he saw that the bulge between them were gone.



“Oh… my…”



Paul dipped down to grab the sock and looked around quick; seeing that no one had seen the mistake, he took his notebook in one hand, the other grabbing Casey’s wrist and pulling him to his feet. The boy fell mute as he was dragged over to Stephen.



“I’d like to take him to the best room you have.” Though Paul’s voice was still low, the words had been said with insistence. Even Stephen looked perplexed.



“Oh. All right…”



A wad of bills was thrust at Stephen, counted and the key handed over. Casey could only follow--Paul was strong, for a woman.. He didn’t even have time to shoot a ‘Help me!’ glance to James, who was gawking and nudging Danny.



After practically flying up the stairwell and getting to their room, Casey was shoved inside. He stumbled a little then turned on his heels, finding Paul slamming the door shut. “Who… who the fuck ARE you?” Casey demanded to know.



Paul’s hands dropped down; they trembled worse than Zeke’s. “I…”



“You’re a woman! What…”



With a sigh, ‘Paul’ removed his hat. Though the hair was cut short, it was clearly a woman’s. “Please,” the newly-discovered ‘she’ said. The lilt in her no-longer-whispered voice revealed even more feminine qualities. All Casey could do was gape and stare in shock as the scarf went next--no Adam’s Apple. “I… you don’t understand--”



“No, no, I’m telling Stephen,” Casey abruptly said, stepping towards her and trying for the door. She slammed her back to it and looked at Casey with wide, doe eyes. She did resemble a terrified deer, at the moment. Casey sniffed. “Let me out of here.”



“You don’t understand!” she cried. “Please. Please, don’t subject me to such mortification. I’ve done no harm, to anyone!”



Her pleading made Casey step back; in all truth, there could be much more than humiliation given to her, should he reveal her secret. “What… is your real name?”



“Pa… Pauline,” she replied. She closed her eyes and shook her head, looking to be in pain. “This is so terrible… so hard to explain… I…”



“Just--sit down,” Casey said. Pauline opened her eyes and walked to the bed to sit upon its edge. Casey followed, keeping his distance. “What are you doing here? Don’t you realize what kind of trouble you could get into, putting on this act?”



“Yes. But I don’t care,” Pauline replied. She then turned her eyes to Casey; they’d gone from wide to steely. “I’ve long since given up on what society considers the normal woman’s sexuality. So… this is what I do. I masquerade as a man to enjoy myself to the fullest.”



“By watching older men with younger? How is that something you ‘enjoy’?”



Pauline pursed her lips a moment. “How do you yourself enjoy what you do?”



“I…” Casey felt his brain go numb. “…I just… do.”



“Mmhmm. And I enjoy watching what you enjoy,” she said. A shaky sigh escaped her lips and her woeful expression returned. “You have a place to do that. I don’t--not--not as a woman, anyway. The rules are ‘no females allowed’, a men’s club. As if females couldn’t handle seeing the things I’ve seen. Hah…”



“But the trouble you could get into--”



“IF you tell, yes! You approached me, remember; I had been doing nothing but sitting there, watching!” she defensively replied. “I did my part. I didn’t insist on taking anyone up to these rooms, nor bothered with the OTHER parlor. And believe me, oh, was I tempted to go in there and get an eyeful. The small glimpses I’d catch, the sounds…”



“But you still haven’t told me why.”



The woman put her hands in her lap and wrung them together, head bowed down. Casey swore he saw tears in her eyes. “You know what it’s like… when what society tells you to want is the furthest from your mind--when what you want is something that you could be jailed for, right?” she said. “I’d think you do.”



“Yes… of course.” Casey swallowed. “But… you, why--”



“Please stop asking me that. I think I’ve said enough. It’s… the cards I was dealt,” she said. “There are other reasons. I… I write, and there are certain secret ‘markets’ that enjoy what I do. And I felt that if I were to make it as an erotica writer in this department, it’d be best to experience it as much as I could.”



This piece of news made Casey blink furiously. “You write… stories, about…” he waved his arms around the room. “…This?”



“Yes. Again, I have to keep things under lock and key, I can’t tell anyone… but I’m moving to Paris at the end of the year. It’s much more open out there,” she said. “I’d have loved to keep this going, to get as much as I could out of it. But after tonight, well--my time’s up, I suppose. If you’ll just… keep this quiet, tell no one, I promise that I won’t come back again. That’s all that I ask. As I said, me coming here hasn’t hurt anyone.”



Though Casey was still confused, still unsure, he could clearly see the hurt in Pauline’s face. She may have confused them all, even worried the boys with her strange demeanor, but she was right; she’d caused no harm in her coming here. This would be yet another secret to keep, however, and Casey was burdened with the many he already had. “But what do I say? When we go back down, what do I tell them?”



Pauline bit her lip, looking to be thinking hard until she finally replied, “Say that I just wanted to watch you--no touching or--anything. The story I give anyone that notices my… lack of ‘masculine qualities’ is that, well…” A wry grin formed on her lips. “That I lost certain things in the war.”



“Oh. Oh, dear,” Casey said. He had to smile back, which made the sadness in Pauline’s face fade. Casey nodded slowly. “I’ll keep your secret. But… as much as I’d like to tell you that it’s okay to come back, because I think I can understand…”



“No. Now that someone knows, even if you were never to tell, I can’t. I understand,” she said.



Casey nodded. “Yea. It’s what’s best.”



“Yes.” Pauline sighed and stood, putting herself together again. The male persona returned, complete with sock-readjustment and scarf tying. “I suppose we have to wait… it’d look suspicious, my paying for an hour then leaving five minutes into it.”



“Well… we can talk?” Casey said.



Pauline looked back at him then sat down again. “I suppose. What of?”





~*~





Everyone had asked many, many questions when Casey had returned, all of them very intrusive. Casey, of course, shrugged, smiled and answered with the usual. “He just wanted to watch… again.” It wasn’t a lie, at any rate. They all seemed to buy it… except for one.



“Watch, huh?”



Casey looked away from Robert, who was fixing his drink to Zeke, who sat in his usual spot at the bar. “What else?” he said.



“Hmm. Let me guess… he can’t get it up, feels insecure about undressing. Maybe he has an ugly scar,” Zeke said. When Casey could do nothing but stare back at him, Zeke took his last sip of vanilla soda, smacked his lips and smiled. “What really happened up there?”



“Nothing much. Why?” Casey said.



All Zeke did was shrug; Casey was handed his drink and he stayed there, eyeing Zeke suspiciously. He was just about to turn away when Zeke leaned in to whisper, “Was she everything you thought she was?”



The sip Casey took was almost spat out. Wide eyes were snapped Zeke’s way. “Wait, you knew??”



“Oh my god, I was right…”



“How did you KNOW?”



“Shh!” Zeke said, darting his eyes around to everyone in the room. When it looked as if no one had noticed, Zeke leaned in closer. “The gloves to hide her hands, the scarf to hide her neck… and for fuck’s sake, if anyone really thought that the bulge in her pants was a cock, they should get their eyes checked.”



Zeke was more intuitive than Casey could have guessed. All he could do for a moment was gape and flutter his lashes, until he shook his head and puffed out a chuckle. “I don’t get you.”



“Get me how?”



“How you do that. How you just… know.”



Zeke made a one-shouldered shrug and put on a cocky smile. “So what, you two just hung out?”



“Well, I did. Like I said, all ‘he’ wanted to do was watch,” Casey coyly replied.



“Ooh. A little show-and-tell, huh?” Zeke said.



“Mmhmm. He’s all about writing our little adventures down, so I told him a few stories,” Casey replied. “And a few fantasies.”



“Yea?” Zeke said; he turned in his swivel chair to face Casey, smiling like the devil. “What about?”



“Oh, nothing much. Just about a young boy-whore who yearns for more… for someone else,” Casey replied, waggling his eyebrows.



“No, you didn’t…”



“But I did.”



Zeke chuckled and smiled warmly. “And who’s this ‘someone else’ you yearn for, boy?”



Before Casey could keep up the shy, playful chatting, an arm slipped around him from behind. He almost jumped as he turned to see Cal standing there, a broad grin on his face. “Oh! Cal, hello!” he said.



“Hello, sweetheart… didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he said. “I’ve missed you… and by the sound of things, you’ve missed me as well.”



“Oh… what?”



The man chuckled lightly and put his lips to Casey’s ear. “I’ll just say that I’m flattered… I don’t know if I’ve ever been ‘yearned’ for.”



Casey’s smile almost disappeared hearing this, especially when he glanced to Zeke. The young man had gone from smiling to stoic, his eyes narrowed and cold. Casey recovered somehow, enough to turn away from Zeke to face Cal with a bright grin. His own words to Zeke back in the park rang in his head: “If someone were to tell me to say ‘I love you’ while they reamed me, I’d have to say it. It doesn’t mean that I’d mean it, but the idea that I’d have to pretend…” It wasn’t all that hard to do, especially since Casey DID feel love for the man. But… Casey erased the doubts and conflicting emotions to slip his arms over Cal’s shoulders until their chests met. “I love to flatter, it’s true.”



“Hmm,” Cal hummed and brushed their noses together. “Sooo… what are these pictures the boys won’t shut up about?”



“Oh… those,” Casey said. “Yes, we had ourselves a photo-shoot. Many interesting visuals we made.”



“So I’ve heard. Care to show them off?”



“Yea, Casey. Give him a viewing,” Zeke interjected, his voice echoing in the glass he sipped from.



Casey turned back to look at him. He tried his best to keep smiling, even if Zeke looked ready to pound his fist on the bar and demand a double scotch, straight, no chaser. “Yea, all right,” he said.



“I’ve already got a room, ready and waiting…” Cal said, his fingers dancing on the small of Casey’s back.





~*~





“Not just yet. It’s been days…”



Casey smiled and put the envelope of pictures on the nightstand. When he turned back to Cal, he was greeted with an elaborate, deep kiss; the man wasn’t just aroused, but hungry. When their lips smacked apart, Casey grinned. “Where HAVE you been, anyway?”



“Oh, god…” Cal flopped back on the bed with a groan. “So many board meetings. You’d think with the collapsing economy, I’d be in the poorhouse--but apparently there’s a huge need for country clubs like mine… I suppose to allow the rich to snub the poor even more. I tell you, I may be wealthy, but… I’m not classist. I tried bringing up the idea that we should allow the public to enjoy our facilities. You should have heard the commotion that was kicked up over that--or maybe you DID. Ugh…”



“Oh… that’s so sweet,” Casey said.



“What?”



Casey chuckled and crawled over Cal’s chest to put their lips together again. His cheeks felt warm as he smiled down at the man. “The fact that if I walked in one day, you’d treat me just as good as anyone with thousand dollar bills spilling out of their pockets.”



Cal smiled back; he cupped Casey’s face in his hands and sighed. “I’d treat you better.”



“Hmm. Is that because you think I’m a nice, decent young man, or that I can suck your dick better than anyone?”



“Oh!” Cal laughed loudly and shook his head. “You’re a wicked, wicked boy.”



“And you like that, don’t you?” Casey said, lips curled into absolute mischief and hips twisting to press their groins together.



“Mmm… and both.” Cal replied in a dreamy voice. “Though ‘decency’ is overrated.”



The boy smiled and dipped his lips to Cal’s, taking a soft, sweet kiss. Cal put his hand behind Casey’s head and massaged his scalp with his fingertips; their movements were slow and unhurried, as if this was all they needed to do for the night. But it wasn’t long before Cal took Casey’s waist and turned him gently onto his side. Their bodies pressed tight together now, Cal smiled. “Before anything… yes. Let me see your wicked pictures.”



“All right,” Casey said. He squirmed a little to grab the envelope back then handed it to Cal. “I think they came out nice.”



“Let’s see, let’s see,” Cal said. The envelope was opened and the contents drawn out; the first photo involved Casey and the three others on the bed, groping, kissing… “Oh, that’s a VERY pretty picture.”



Casey giggled lightly. “They were eating me alive.”



“As if you could blame them,” Cal replied with a wink. He flipped through the next two, depicting the same scene as the first, then stopped when he reached the ones Casey had almost left behind in his bedroom. Cal raised his eyebrows and turned the picture of Zeke and Casey kissing to Casey’s eyes. “Hmm. He looks like he’s enjoying that.”



“Well… yes.” Casey tried keeping his voice coy and light. “And again, can you blame him?”



Cal’s smile was good to see, but it drifted away to nowhere when he reached the last picture. Even Casey’s grin faltered, especially when Cal outright frowned. “Really enjoying this…” Cal drifted off; he bit his lip and studied the photo a moment. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you two were lovers.”



“I suppose. All in good fun, though.”



“Mmm,” Cal hummed then put the pictures aside. He then gave Casey a deep, thoughtful look. “You… remember what I’d warned you about, right?”



“With Zeke?” Casey asked. At Cal’s nod, he did his best to smile again. “Cal, he’s really--there’s nothing to worry about. Me and him, we’re just friends. Friends who… well, like to kiss, I suppose.”



“Isn’t that against the rules?”



Casey blinked furiously, then pointed to the stack of pictures. “This had been approved. Stephen knew full well what we were going to get up to.”



“Yes, but that… it’s easy to see that there’s more than ‘good, clean fun’ in that photo,” Cal said.



“Cal…” Casey said. Even if the man was right--even if it’d grown obvious to others that Casey and Zeke were walking fine lines, he managed to put a playful, cheeky grin on his face. With a grunt, Casey moved up and over Cal again, all to lean forward and kiss the man as gentle as before. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” he said in a sing-song voice.



Cal cocked an eyebrow. “Why… do you want me to be?”



There was something to his tone that Casey didn’t like. Blinking even more furiously, Casey bent up. “No. It’s just… you’re acting like it.”



Sighing, Cal’s face relaxed and he smiled, just a little. “All right. So maybe I am. A little,” he said. “But my warning still stands. Don’t get yourself into trouble with him, especially when it comes to Stephen’s rules. You haven’t done… anything besides this ‘playing around’, have you?” he motioned to the pictures.



“No?”



“Good. Keep it that way.”



Casey felt blank as Cal took Casey’s chin and brought him down for more kisses. He barely felt them, nor when he was put on his back for Cal to push his legs open to climb past them. Breath didn’t come easy with how Cal was taking him, the kissing becoming hungry and almost brutal. Even if the man was doing the usual, it had an edge to it--an easy-to-read edge, where Cal wanted to make sure he let Casey know who was allowed to have him, and who wasn’t.