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thiswasinevitableid · 5 years

Note

Matchmaker or stripper sternclay?

I chose the following: “I strip because I enjoy it and it’s good money, but I didn’t expect to be hired for your friend’s bachelor party. hello, professor“

Given the prompt and where it went, This is Not Suitable For you Workplace. It’s a lemon, in the language of the olden times.

Note: I have an additional part of this planned, if people end up being interested in it.

Most days, Lucky Stern likes this job.

Stripping isn’t what he’d imagined he’d do during college. But it keeps his head above water and the loans from overwhelming him. He likes most of his colleagues, and the place he works is in the gay neighborhood, which is relatively safe when he gets off at weird hours of the night. Plus it means he gets more exercise than he probably otherwise would as a student working two jobs.

So yeah, most days are fine.

Then there are days like the one he’s having now.

He’s one of two dancers hired for a bachelor party, a small one at a nice house in the fancy, woodsy part of town. He and his partner are doing one of their favorite routines (Scully and Mulder, with his partner doing the drag for Scully), so he’s feeling confident.

Until he turns around and sees a familiar face.

His professor.

Technically his former professor. Also, technically, the professor he’s had a raging crush on for two years.

Barclay, as he asked his students to call him, was an athro professor, but Stern had him for a folklore class (“Cryptids in American Folklore and Culture”) as he finished his depth requirements during his sophmore year. It was his favorite class of the year, and that was only partially due to his professor looking like a lumberjack centerfold (he’s on the younger end of professors, that much Stern knows). Barclay made the material engaging and challenging and shared Sterns fascination with cryptids and their role in the world. And so Stern went to office hours, sometimes because he needed a clarification and (most times) to talk with Barclay about his theories or research or the latest episode of the ridiculous Bigfoot hunting show they both watched. They kept meeting even when Stern moved into the next semester and the semester after that. His life got busier, but he still made time once a week to drop in on his favorite professor (and time after to go somewhere private to jack off to the idea of having sex in his office).

Hell, he was in Barclays office five days ago, telling him he’d scored a paid internship after graduation that might, one day, get him a job investigating paranormal phenomena.

And now here he is, looking as surprised as Stern feels.

He can’t bolt, he can’t, they’d probably demand a refund and he’d screw himself and his partner out of a nights pay. So he goes through the routine on autopilot, though every time he hazards a glance at Barclay the other man is looking down. Except for when they finish, both down to what could be called a thong, if you were being generous. Then he’s staring, and Stern’s never felt more exposed.

They disappear back into the kitchen (their staging area) even as some of the attendees cheer for more. He tells his partner to go for it, then throws on an undershirt and pants so he can go into the garden and have a panic attack.

He’s doubled over, stress dry-heaving into some shrubs. It’s not that he’s ashamed, but he’s heard so many horror stories about people who stripped having a client who recognized them blab and cost them their job or their social circle or, or..

A water glass enters his vision.

“Thanks.” He rasps.

“No problem.”

He stands bolt upright, turns, finds Barclay standing in front of him looking worried. For a moment an awkward pause fills the night air.

“Found a way to pay for school, huh?”

“Yes. What do I have to do to convince you not to tell anyone?” He sighs, tries to keep his shoulders from shaking with pent up panic.

“Convince me to-oh, Lucky, hey, you don’t have to anything.” A hand rests on his shoulder, the gesture familiar and comforting.

“Hold on, are there other people who know and are making you do stuff?” His tone is deathly serious.

“No, it’s just, I got a bit jumpy and went into damage control mode. I apologize.” He takes another sip of water, still can’t look Barclay in the eye (he may be the only man Stern actually has to look up to talk to).

“Listen, I know folks who did the same thing and god knows you’re not the only student at the school who’s landed on this as the best way to avoid money troubles. So no judgement or anything from me, okay.”

Stern nods.

“How’s your stomach?”

“Still feels like shit, but less so.”

“C’mon, lemme make you some tea, it might help.”

“I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

“Need a break from the festivities myself, you’ll be doing me a favor.” He smiles and Stern tries not to melt at the sweetness in it.

They head back into the kitchen and Barclay moves through it effortlessly as he grabs a kettle, a mug, and some tea.

“So…how do you know the groom? Or is it grooms?”

“Grooms. I know Ned better than his fiance, met him through friend of mine named Duck. I’m willing to bet Ned’s the one who hired you guys. He can never pass up a chance to be over the top. Plus I imagine both him and Boyd are enjoying themselves.

“Boyd?”

“Groom number two, guy with all the tattoos and muscles.”

There’s a whoop from the other room just as the kettle boils.

Barclay sets the mug in front of Stern before continuing to putter about the kitchen.

“You hungry at all.”

“Not really, what with panic and the puking.”

“Good point. Lemme know if you start feeling different.”

Stern blows on his tea to cool it, catches Barclay looking at him.

He’s blushing.

“Was the Agent Mulder bit something you picked, or just a happy accident.”

“I picked it as one of my go-tos. Everything said to choose things that made me feel confident and sexy and well, you know me.”

“Yeah, future special agent Stern. Can see why you picked it, it looks good on you.” He sticks a serving knife into a pan of brownies. Stern wishes he had an appetite, there’s some really good food in here.

Wait, does he smell buffalo wings?

Indeed he does. There they are, sitting on a tray, probably left over from dinner.

He loves buffalo wings.

“Help yourself.” Barclay grins as he slides the tray across the island to him, passes a napkin along behind it.

Sterns resolve lasts two seconds and then takes a bite.

“These are amazing.” He whispers and Barclay chuckles.

“Thanks, came up with the mix for the sauce myself. Took a few passes to get the texture right.”

“You made these?”

“Made basically all the food for tonight. It’s a hobby, and like cooking for my friends.”

“That’s very attractive.” He murmurs, taking another bite of the wing. Barclay arches an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.

The kitchen door swings open and one of the guests comes in, a bigger guy wearing dark green.

“Hidin in the kitchen already?” He drawls at Barclay, before catching sight of Stern, “Oh, howdy, your friend out there said you were feelin sick all of a sudden. You doin okay? Barclay behavin himself?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry for leaving you all with less than you paid for.”

“To be honest, think your friend’s got it covered. Only a few of the fellas are into the whole, uh, whole, y’know.” He gestures at Sterns outfit.

“You’re not dying to have someone cute and mostly naked in your lap, Duck?” Barclays tone is teasing.

“If I wanted that, Indrid is right there.”

“How’s he enjoying the dancers?”

“He’s had too many of those hard sodas, so he’s the kind of drunk where all he wants to do is stare at the lamp with the color changin bulb. Relatedly,” he grabs a water glass and fills it, “I ain’t drinkin anymore tonight so I can get us home safe.”

“Here, take Indrid one of these.” Barclay slips a brownie onto a small plate.

“Thanks, man. See you in a bit.” Then he disappears.

“He seems nice.”

“Yeah, Duck’s a good guy. He and Indrid got married about a year ago, think that man’s gonna be in the honeymoon stage for the rest of his life.”

“Is everyone here married or about to be?” Stern had assumed a bachelor party would have more, well, bachelors.

“I’m not.” Barclay shrugs and Stern nearly chokes on his food when the larger man gives him a suggestive look and sits down beside him.

“What about you? Anyone waiting at home to rub your…legs after a hard nights work?”

“That’s oddly specific, and no.”

“Gotta say I’m surprised. You’re the complete package, smart, hard-working, good looking, only a little messy.”

“I’ll have you know I’m very fastidious-oh” Barclay reaches forward, wipes stray sauce from the edge of his mouth. Stern takes a chance, turns his head slightly and brings the tip of the thumb into his mouth and playfully bites it. Barclay inhales sharply, pupils widening, before slowly pulling his hand back.

“Easy, tiger, I’m not making any kind of move until you’re not a student.”

“I don’t have any classes with you, we’re not even in the same department.” Well, that came out as more of a whine that he wanted.

“That’s my policy, babe. I don’t date any students or TAs, period.”

“But graduation’s not for another month.”

“Gives you time to change your mind safely. And if you still want it, then it gives you lots of time to savor the anticipation.” His deep voice is almost a purr as he brings a hand around to rub Sterns neck, pulling them closer as a result.

“You’re a scrupulous man, Barclay, and right now I could kill you for it.”

“Believe me, it’s as hard for me as it is for you. But if we do, well, anything like that, I want to treat you right and on the level from the start.”

He presses a kiss on the top of Sterns head before sitting back.

“Oh HO!”

Stern jumps and Barclay groans

“Hey, Ned.”

“Here I thought you were simply preparing more refreshments and seeing to our under the weather guest.”

“I’m doing exactly that.”

“Barclay, there were specific rules I agreed to when I hired them-”

“So it was you”

“-and one was that there were to be no private sessions OR touching of the performers.”

Barclay is turning shades of pink never before seen by human eyes.

“It’s alright, really, Barclay was just helping me calm down.”

The man, Ned, look’s concerned.

“Did something happen?”

Stern racks his brain for a half-truth to explain the whole thing.

“Ned, this gentleman is a student at the college. He and I know each other, so you can imagine it was a bit of an unwelcome surprise for him to see me here, so I was doing what I could to help him feel better. And so help me, Ned fucking Chicane, if you ever repeat that piece of information about him to anyone, I will never let you near my cooking again.”

“You have my word. My real one.” Ned looks genuinely somber, “now that’s out of the way.” He bursts into a deep belly laugh.

“I’m so sorry, my dear boy, for landing you in such a difficult, but hilarious, situation. I will be sure to inform your employer that we were all extremely satisfied tonight and wish to add a considerable gratuity on top of what your friend out there has collected from my betrothed.”

“Thank you.” And Stern thought he knew academics with bloated vocabularies. This guy takes the cake.

“My pleasure.” He winks at them and heads back out into the living room.

Stern gives Barclay a perplexed look.

“That’s Ned Chicane? The guy who runs the Cryptonomica? How the fuck can he afford this place.”

“I’ve learned it’s best not to ask.” Barclay steps onto the floor, offers his hand, “C’mon, handsome, help me get the desserts ready.”

“Only if you let me lick whip cream off you.”

“Bold, but no. Not for another month.” He hands him serving tool and Stern takes it with a smile.

—————————————–

Stern has been a graduate all of two days.

Last night was spent with his folks, who were delighted and proud and took him out to dinner.

Tonight he’s working the club, and getting more distracted by the minute. Because someone special is picking him up tonight.

He’s changing into his street clothes when Ray, the most classic butch lesbian he’s ever met and the best bouncer in the city, taps him.

“Hey, there was a bigger fella who came in during your last number and watched like a fucking hawk. Saw him i the back parking lot with a car. Don’t recognize him as a regular. You need someone to walk home with you?”

“Was he taller than me and wearing plaid?”

“Yep.”

“It’s alright, I know him. He’s my date.”

Ray gives him a thumbs up as he steps out the back door.

Barclay leans against the side of his car and watches Stern as he approaches.

“Hey there.” He stands up straight, opens his arms and pulls Stern into a hug.

“I didn’t expect you to catch part of the show.”

“Curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see what it looked like when you weren’t dealing with a massive, unwelcome surprise. Gotta say, you looked pretty damn good.”

“Apparently you were watching me so intently I had to convince the bouncer you weren’t an unwelcome suitor.”

“Nope, nothing but pure intentions.”

“Is that so?” He rolls his hips and Barclay hisses with pleasure.

“I could see you were hard from the other end of the parking lot.”

Barclay grins, and then pulls Stern in for a kiss, mouth hot and hungry against his own. Stern rolls his hips again and Barclay growls, pushes him against the car.

“You got me, my intentions are fifty percent pure and fifty percent ‘if you don’t get in the car I’m gonna lose what’s left of my self control and fuck you over the hood.”

“Jesus.” Stern moans, one hand searching for the handle of the door. Barclay pulls back and grabs it, opening the door and gesturing for Stern to get in.

By the time they get to Barclays place, Stern is close to passing out from excitement. Barclay is on him as soon as they’re safely inside the apartment, tossing keys and jacket haphazardly towards the kitchen counter even as he pushes Stern up against it. His kisses are only broken when he speaks.

“Goddamn, this is worth every time I had to lock my office door and fuck my own hand after you came to see me.”

Stern moans at the image, kisses his way across Barclays cheek while he tugs at this shirt.

“You’re one-of-a-kind, Lucky. Didn’t think I stood a chance with you.”

“Likewise. God, Barclay OHgod” The larger man grinds against him, hands digging into his ass.

“Where do you want to start? Assuming you still want to ohokay.” Barclay laughs as Stern drops to knees and starts undoing his belt, “hold on, got a condom in my jacket.” There’s a rustling above him and in a few seconds Barclay hands him the foil packet.

“Presumptuous.” Stern teases as he unzipps his fly.

“I wanted to be ready in case we didn’t even make it to the apartment.”

Stern smiles to himself at that as he yanks Barclays pants and boxers down; the man is exceedingly thoughtful and oh. Oh lord, he is big. He cock is thick and long and Stern needs it in his mouth right now.

As he rolls the condom on he notices Barclay looking down at him with just as much affection as lust in his eyes.

Before Stern can take him in his mouth, a hand grips his chin and holds him in a place.

“Something you want?”

“I assumed that was obvious.”

Barclay clucks his tongue.

“You want it, you gotta ask for it.”

“I want to suck your cock.”

“Close, but not quite. Need you to ask nicely.” Barclay uses his other hand to move his cock against Sterns lips teasingly.

“Please let me suck your cock?”

“Much better.” Barclay releases his chin, braces his hand on the counter, and Stern gratefully opens his mouth, takes the first inch or so in. He shuts his eyes just as warm fingers ghost across his cheek.

Jesus, he can feel his mouth getting sore from the stretch and it’s been a maximum of thirty seconds and something about that idea, of there being so much of Barclay and it’s all his, makes him moan. He pushes his head forward, takes in more of the shaft and rolls his tongue across it. Tries for more, winces when it starts getting close to this throat.

“Easy, tiger.” Barclays fingers card through his hair, “don’t hurt yourself. Need that sweet mouth of yours in good shape if I’m gonna keep fucking it.”

Stern whines, brings one hand to cover the rest of his cock while the other traces zig-zags on Barclays ass.

“I know, you just want to please don’t you?”

The moan that leaves him is instantaneous and he nods. He’d fantasized about partners saying things like that, dominant and sweet all at once, but hadn’t worked up the courage to ask.

He’s kicking himself for not finding a way to practice deep-throating, he’s seen the bulge in Barclays jeans for months (years) and knew it was formidable.

The hand brushing hair from his forehead steers him from those thoughts.

“Don’t gotta worry about how much of my cock fits. I like it fast, with a lot of pressure. Think you can do that for me?”

Stern locks eyes with him as he eagerly nods, tightens his grip and works his hand rapidly, pre-cum and saliva helping him along. Focuses less on depth and more on sucking, pleasure pulsing through him whenever Barclays cockhead makes contact with his cheek.

“Shit, yeah, that’s it. Goddamn, look at you, wanna watch that face bob up and down on my cock every night.” There’s a sharp thwack as Barclay slaps his other hand down on the counter and groans. Stern keeps his head still, moves his hand as fast as he’s able and sucks hard, tongue swiping at the tip

“I’m close, babe, so fucking close. Lemme hear you, I wanna hear how much you like sucking my cock.”

Stern moans from deep in his chest, lets a series of broken moans punctuate the small jerks of Barclays hips, the only movement he’s made in his mouth.

“That’s it, fuck FUCK, Lucky, baby, so good.” He cums with another groan, one hand dropping down to hold Sterns head in place. There’s a panting growl as he adds, “gonna keep my cock in your mouth for hours one of these nights” and Sterns whole body pings with interest both at the image and at the promise of this being an ongoing arrangement.

Barclay carefully pulls back, and by the time Stern gets to his feet he’s opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a napkin, which Stern gladly accepts.

“That was…damn.” Barclay chuckles, kissing his neck as he finishes wiping his mouth.

“Did I, uh..” Barclay looks at him curiously and he nearly chickens out, “did I do well?”

Something exceedingly hungry flashes behind the taller mans eyes and he strokes a thumb across Sterns lips.

“Yeah, you did. You were real good for me, Lucky.” The chasteness of the kiss that follows these words is in stark contrast to lascivious tone they take as he continues, “you gonna keep being my good boy tonight.”

Before Stern can respond, two things happen: his stomach gives an comically loud gurgle, and his thighs twinge from that nights work.

Barclay chuckles and Stern glares at the lower half of his body.

“How dare you sabotage the mood at a time like this?” He hisses, which only makes Barclay laugh harder as he pulls his underwear and pants back up.

“I’ll make you some dinner. Have a seat.”

Stern drops into a chair and watches Barclay root through the fridge, pulling out a few containers and tossing butter into a pan. His leg is still twinging, so he stands, swings it up and rests his heel on the table to stretch it out.

Barclay drops the wooden spoon he was holding, along with his jaw.

“The dancing helps with flexibility.” Stern shrugs, casually.

“No kidding.”

“The stove is beginning to smoke.”

“Shit! Ah, well, guess you’re having leftover risotto warmed in really brown butter.”

Stern does, and it’s delicious.

As he eats, he slips his shoes off and Barclay motions for him to put his foot in his lap and proceeds to gently rub it as he chats with Stern about the research he’ll be conducting over the summer.

“..So yeah, it’s mostly pouring through interviews and newspapers, but maybe there’s one roadtrip in the mix.” He glances down at Sterns plate, now clean, then smirks at him.

“Care to continue this conversation in the bedroom?”

“Very much so.”

Barclay takes his hand and leads him into a room down the hall. Like the rest of the space, it looks as though someone tried to cram an Appalachian lodge into one bedroom apartment.

“Legs still sore?” He murmurs, arms around Sterns waist and lips grazing the back of his neck.

“Yes, but it’s fine, I don’t want that to get in the way of whatever you had planned.”

There’s a soft laugh against his skin.

“Still trying so hard to be good me, huh?”

Sterns melts back against him with breathy “yes.”

“Then take your clothes off and lay on the bed. Facedown. Underwear can stay on, if that’s more comfortable.”

Stern whips off his t-shirt, tosses his jeans after it and flops onto the bed on his stomach. He can’t really see what Barclay’s doing, feels the bed dip after a few moments. And then something cool hits his thigh. For a second he thinks it’s stray lube and Barclay is getting right to the point, but then fingers begin kneading at his muscles and he sighs into the pillow.

“See, Lucky, here’s the thing; you wanna be good for me, you gotta accept that means I’m gonna be good to you.” Barclays hand presses down towards his calf, stopping to thumb at a knot, “don’t gotta try to give me the right answers or anything like that. Just gotta tell me what you want.”

Slowly but sure he works his way down one leg and then up the other before lightly tapping Sterns ass.

“Roll over.”

When Stern does, his breath catches in his throat; Barclay’s in only his boxers, his body otherwise bare and broad and so appealing Stern thinks this may be a dream.

Barclay runs a hand appreciatively down his chest, drinking him in.

“You act like you’ve never seen me in my underwear before. Which is demonstrably false.”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t do this” the hand moves across Sterns hips, “or this” down to his thigh, “or this” it’s on his cock, gently stroking it up.

“Fair point, ohhhhh.” His back arches as Barclay adds more pressure and he frantically tugs his boxer briefs off, Barclay not missing a beat before taking his cock in his hand. The larger man shifts so he’s laying on his side, hand still working Stern over and lips kissing his cheeks.

“I want you to tell me when you get close. You gonna do that?”

“Yes, Barclay, I promise, I oh, oh fuck.” Barclays grip and pace turn relentless and Stern lets himself be carried away by the feeling until his orgasm starts building.

“Close, I’m, oh fuck you.” Barclays hand stills as he leans in and bites Sterns ear.

“What did I say earlier about being polite?” The growl in his voice makes Stern whimper and wriggle his hips.

“I, I, apologize, please, pleaseplease keep going.”

“Much better.” He starts stroking him again, panting against his ear, and soon Stern feels himself getting close. He could just not tell him. But where’s the fun in that?

“I’m so close again.”

“You wanna come.”

“Yes, please Barclay I want to so badly, I want to come in your hand, wanna come for you, I want, I want-” He’s babbling, he must sound absurd, but Barclay moans, kisses him hard.

“Then be a good boy and come for me.”

Stern bucks his hips, thrusting as best he can in time with Barclays movements and then he’s coming, Barclays name an obscene sound on his lips.

He lays, shaking, as it finishes washing over him, and then Barclay kisses his forehead.

“You did so well. You were so good for me.”

Stern turns his head, makes small, needy noise that Barclay correctly interprets as wanting a kiss. Then he slides of the bed, returning with a towel for the stray cum on Sterns stomach. He’s not quite sure what he’s supposed to do now.

“Do I, should I go?”

“Only if you want to. Be glad if you stayed the night, but don’t want you to if it feels weird.”

“I’d like to, very much.”

Stern means to get up and get ready for bed, or at least ask for pajamas. But Barclay is there and warm and holding him and he’s so happy and so sleepy that he drops off into pleasant dreams, the feeling of Barclays breath slow and even against the back of his neck.

Some disastrous work days, he thinks as he dozes, have very happy endings indeed.

#sternclay #au list prompt #prompt fills #agent stern/barclay #CW: stripping #will this get flagged?#who even knows

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zippiethehangnail · 5 years

Text

It all started with a message from Grindr. If you're unfamiliar with just what Grindr is. Grindr is a gay dating app used primarily for hook ups. And if your unfamiliar with that term then... I suggest that you refrain from reading the rest of this story.

I was sitting in the publix parking lot around 1 o'clock in the morning when i first learned of his existence. If you're wondering what i was doing at such a place at that time of night well the answer is simple. I was piggy backing off their wifi so i could get some dick. Granted this was about 2 months after a break up with a person i had been with for 5 years. So of course i was still hurting financially and couldn't afford service.

It starts out with the usual small talk and then he asks me if I'd be up to chat on the phone. So i agreed and gave him the number to my textme (which is an app that allows you to make texts and calls over wifi). So we end up chatting occasionally getting interrupted by the call dropping ( i dont recommend this app... 2 stars..) But he was very understanding about my situation.

"I know what it's like. I've Been there"

He was very charming right off the bat

And very opened

I felt like i knew him

So he suggested that i come over to his house when i had a day off

And i agreed

So fast forward a few days later. Since i had absolutely no service, and i didnt want to get lost especially since i had no way of contacting him if i did. i walked up to publix, looked up his address, and took screen shots of the route. Since he lived all the way in north fort myers and neither him nor i had any access to a car. i was forced to take the bus. The 240 to bell tower and then the 140 to the last stop which was north fort. I jumped off the bus and immediately opened my gallery. Following the route i walked up to pine island round took a left, trailed it down to Pacific, took another left all the way down to state street i took a right and began scanning the mailboxes for his address until finally i was in the driveway of a rickety old trailer with an old man perched out front in a wheel chair, enjoying his afternoon, drinking nothing but naddy ice. Noticing that id stopped in his driveway and was staring at him.. My mouth all but agaped.. He gave me a perplexed look.

"Is Stephen here?"

At that

i could see movement from the porch to the left of him.

"STEPHEN!! SOME BOY'S OUT HERE!"

He had these sparkling blue eyes that stopped me dead in my tracks. The whole time he was walking towards me i was thinking how his pictures did not do him justice. He was dirty and unkempt. His shirt was littered with oil and greese stains. But underneath all the grime and muck i could see he was handsome.

He walks up to me, his shoulders slumped and his feet dragging, and leads me into his room. Which was in the back of the porch and closes the door. He offers me some weed that he said his grandpa got for him ((the old man in the wheel chair)) so i take a hit and get down to business...

Afterwards we take a walk around the neighborhood, just chatting it up. He opened up to me about how he was a mechanic and about, how his mother pretty much abandoned him with his granmother when he was younger. About how he just got out of prison, not even a month ago, for running a scam on a client, when he had his shop (i dont think he ever had one to be honest..)

Eventually, the sun starts to set and i figure if i want to get home, i better get going so i could catch the last bus. He shrugs it off and suggests that i spend the night.

"What about your grandma?"

"Don't worry about her. I can sneek you in"

So we walk around until the sun sets and go back up to his house. He tells me to sit in the lawn chair right oustide the kitchen window because there was a gigantic beach umbrella obstructing the view of who ever was sitting in it from the inside. He goes inside, tells his grandma about his time, and how he saw me off on the bus. Or something of that nature. He comes outside, goes in his room to get the make-shift bowl fashioned out of an old beer can, comes out, and sits right next to me. He takes a hit, passes it to me, and i do the same. We keep doing this until we're too high to function.

"Do you think i can go in now?"

"No, we have to wait until she falls alseep." So he gets up, goes back in to check, and comes back out to tell me that she's still watching tv.

He then checked to see if the cost was clear grabs my hand and kisses it. All while still holding it, he lowers his arm down and scotches closer to me.

"It's a discrete hand hold."

I blush and scoot closer to him.

He looks around again and kisses me.

Maybe it was because i was high

Maybe it was because i saw this rough scraggily, mechanic, all giddy and overflowing with affection

But my heart had stopped

And i did not want that moment to ever to end

But... He starts to get restless..

He gets back up, goes back in checks,

Comes out stands in the door way of the screen door takes a hit. Goes back in checks, turns off the porch light, comes back out.

"STEPHEN!? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOIN!?"

"NOTHING IM SMOKIN A BOOWL!"

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU STANDIN IN THE PORCH WITH THAT DAMN BOWL? WE HAVE NEIGHBORS AND I'M TIRED OF EVERYBODY AROUND HERE THINKING THAT WE'RE... WHITE TRASH!"

"THE NEIGHBORS ARE FUCKING DRUG DEALERS! THEY HAVE CARS COMING THROUGH HERE ALL HOURS OF THE NIGHT!"

"YOU BETTER NOT BE LYIN TO ME ABOUT SENDIN THAT BOY HOME! I DONT CARE. HE IS NOT SPENDING THE NIGHT!"

"I'M NOT LYING!!"

"YOU BETTER NOT BECAUSE IF HE IS IM CALLIN THE COPS AND THEY CAN TAKE HIM HOME!"

She closes the door and goes back inside.

"Don't worry about her."

He sits next to me and hands me the bowl.

About 2 minutes later out she comes.

"STEPEN WHAT THE HELL DID I TELL YOU! HE'S NOT SPENDING THE NIGHT."

"HE'S NOT HE'S WAITING FOR HIS MOM TO PICK HIM UP!"

"BULSHIT! Listen i want you off my property or I'm calling the police and reporting you for trespassin."

"HIS MOM IS COMING AND PICKING HIM UP!"

"NO! I AM NOT LETTING ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR ADDICT FRIENDS SPEND THE NIGHT AT MY HOUSE. LOOK AT HIM HIGH OUT OF HIS MIND! EXCUSE ME BUT CAN YOU SPEAK ENGLISH!? GET OFF MY PROPERTY!"

They then get into a screeching fight, where she brought up the fact that she had previously let one of his friends spend the night and he eventually, ended up living there. I pull Stephen aside and tell him that, we should probably go. Considering there was no way in hell that she was gonna let me sleep there.

"AND DON'T YOU THINK ABOUT COMING BACK HERE TONIGHT. I WILL BE OUT FRONT ON THIS LAWN CHAIR WITH MY SHOT GUN! IM NOT GOIN TO SLEEP!"

So it's about 11 and me and him make our way up to Wal-Mart to use their wifi. I think about calling my mom but it's useless. She'd already be in bed so that means her phone was inside and there was absolutely no cell service in her house. Evertime i called it went straight to voicemail. "Shit! What the fuck are we gonna do?"

He tries calling his friends but they're not answering. "We could always sleep in the woods. There's a spot just a few miles down the road where i used to stay when i was homeless."

I was so tired and stoned off my ass that i just wanted to lay down.

"Okay..let's do that then."

He looked at me and shrugged

"Sure...I guess."

So we start making our way down 41. There was no sidewalk so we had to walk in the biking lane. Id like to add that when Im high im the paranoid type. So the whole walk I'm fucking terrified of the cops pulling us over and asking us what we're doing and where we're going. Didn't help that everytime i brought up the possibility to Stephen he'd add that the cops in north ft myers are waay worse then the ones in my area... so i was like wow thanks.. Now I'm even more terrified... About 3 miles later we finally make it to the spot. He finds a piece of cardboard and we cuddle but i can not seem sleep. Maybe it was because i was high, alone in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere, with no phone service, with someone i had just met that day and i kind of had the sneaking suspicion that he was gonna kill me.. I dont know... Just kind of lingered there in the back of my mind.. "Oh he could kill me right now and probably get away with it." Obviously, that wasnt the case.

I eventually realise that he was also having trouble falling asleep as well so we start to get a little freaky...

So yeah i had sex in the middle of the woods on a dirty piece of cardboard. It was fun.

#confessions #love #story time #grindr #writing #funny #lol #wtf #weed #420 #whatever

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