Identity Check

Chapter 4

Patrick didn't know how long they danced for. Not long enough. But Russ and the others eventually dragged him and Phil off the floor and hustled them to the bar where they all bought outrageously priced bottled water. The group fell into seats around a table. Patrick's foot tapped away under the table, head nodding to the rhythm.

"So, Patrick, you like dancing then?" Phil said, making them both laugh far more than the remark merited, both high on adrenaline. Phil drank most of his water off, put the bottle down and Russ swapped his own nearly full one for Phil's. Patrick smiled when he caught Russ's eye and Russ must have realised he'd spotted the little manoeuvre. He leaned close to Patrick.

"Crazy bugger got heat exhaustion once," Russ said. "Waited too long to replace fluids. I swear you can't get him off the dance floor without a lasso. You're the same by the look of it."

"I promise to keep replacing fluids."

"Well, I need another bottle," Russ said, shaking the nearly empty one he had now. "You want to see the rest of the club?"

"Definitely."

Russ led him away from the others, saying they'd be back soon. The club was filling up now, and Russ took Patrick's hand to keep them together in the crowd. Stairs took them up to the balcony, and to what must have been a lobby bar once. It served as the chill-out room now, soundproofing cutting it off from the pounding dance floor music. Men – all men he noticed, no fag hags up here – sat around on padded benches and talked, or in some cases, kissed.

That made him stare and Russ had to slap him on the arm to make him stop. They bought bottles of water and Russ led Patrick back out of the chill-out room and along a passageway at the side of it. The doors ahead bore a sign. 'No glass. Plastic bottles only.'

"The balcony's pretty dark," Russ said. "And people can be a bit careless where they put their hands. Stick close to me."

"Sticking like glue," Patrick assured him. When they stepped through the doors into the dark balcony bar, Russ who slipped an arm around his waist.

The only light in here came from the dance floor light show and a small bar. After a moment Patrick's eyes adjusted enough to let him see more of the room. It had no furniture. The floor sloped away to the safety rail and a metal mesh rising several feet from that. Russ led him down towards the rail and mesh. Dark figures in the crowd jostled them. Nobody grabbed him... yet.

"Am I sleeping, or are you real, dream boy?"

Patrick gasped at the voice, husky and close to his ear. He looked around, but couldn't see who'd said it. Russ, still walking, pulled him away from whoever it was. Did Russ hear the words?

They reached the wire mesh, which looked cruel and hellish from a distance, but was actually coated in black plastic. It appeared to be topped with razor wire, but Patrick guessed that if he climbed up there to check, that would prove to be rubber. Like movie set dressing. A small drift of plastic bottles lay at their feet.

Patrick looked through the mesh, searching the dance floor. Were the others dancing again yet? "Phil certainly knows how to party," he said.

"He doesn't get out much during the week." Russ was still pressed up close to Patrick, his arm around Patrick's waist. "Has to look after his mother. She's got MS."

"Oh. That must be hard on him."

"Yes. Patrick, I want to kiss you."

"What?" Patrick turned, staring at Russ. Russ's hand came up from Patrick's waist and touched his face, slid through his hair and gently pulled him forward. Patrick could have pulled away easily; the hand only urged him, it didn't force him. But he didn't resist, and Russ closed his eyes, bent his head and their lips met. Patrick closed his eyes a second later at the same moment he opened his mouth.

This was the first man he'd kissed besides Simon and it answered a question for him. What if he wasn't really gay? What if it was just Simon?

Now he knew that couldn't be true. His blood hummed the way it had on the dance floor. Russ had both arms around his waist now, pressed close to him. Patrick ran his hands up Russ's arms. God, such nice arms, he must really work on those. His hands came to rest on Russ's upper chest, fingers tracing the shape of his collarbone through his shirt.

With a sigh, Russ pulled back, opened his eyes. Patrick leaned close to speak in his ear.

"Is this why you offered to show me around?"

"Am I the Circle's official tour guide?" Russ said, his breath warm on Patrick's ear. Patrick laughed at that. No indeed. But there was a problem.

"Russ, you know I'm involved with someone else."

"Does he own the exclusive rights to your lips?" He rested his thumb on said lips briefly, brushed it across them, then combed his hand through Patrick's hair. "Your hair is amazing."

The sensation of those fingers stroking gently through his hair made Patrick shiver. The butterflies in his stomach were having a party. Russ wanted more than a kiss of course. And Patrick was close to giving him what he wanted. Only a memory stood between them. Simon.

"I think we should go back downstairs," Patrick said. "I'd like to dance some more."

Russ looked disappointed, but nodded. "Okay." But he held Patrick's arm for a moment, stopping him from moving away yet. "Come home with me after we leave."

"Russ... I'm not sure."

"No pressure. If you just want to talk, we'll talk."

He wants me, Patrick thought, as they went back downstairs to rejoin the others. Russ had the same hunger in his eyes that Patrick had seen in Simon's. A thirst that only one thing would quench. Did Patrick want Russ? He saw no sense in denying it – of course he did. But... should he? What about Simon? A kiss was no big deal. But sex? That would be wrong, surely?

When the club closed, the patrons tumbled out into the night looking for taxis. They cursed the slowness of the queue, but eventually most of Russ's group had gone. Only Russ, Phil and Patrick were left. When the next cab pulled up Russ gave Phil a small push forward.

"Take it," he said.

Phil gave Russ an odd look as he got in, then looked at Patrick. "Sure you don't want to share? Um, either of you?"

"No, that's fine, Phil, thanks," Patrick said. "You get home now."

"Okay. See you again next week?"

"Definitely. I'm going to call you about that job interview as well."

"Great. Speak later!" He slammed the door and the taxi drove off.

"We going to share?" Russ asked.

Patrick knew what the question really meant. Were they? No pressure, Russ had said, but did he mean that? He hadn't forced that kiss on Patrick. Would he act any differently if they were alone together?

"Yes, let's share."

*

Russ's bedsit wasn't as grotty as Phil had made it out to be. It was a good sized room, carpeted and furnished. It even had a big window and Patrick wondered if it had a nice view. Curtains were drawn across the window now. A desk under it was piled high with books and folders, a closed laptop in the middle of them. Russ waved Patrick to a two seat sofa while he went to his 'kitchen' - a cabinet with a kettle, a two ring mini-cooker and a fridge beside it.

"I don't think I've got any beer in." Russ checked the fridge. "Don't really drink unless I'm out. I could make a coffee?"

"Coffee would be great," Patrick said, sitting down. Russ filled the kettle in a small sink behind a sliding panel and took a bag of coffee from the cabinet. He scooped grounds into a French press. While he made the coffee, Patrick glanced around and his gaze lingered for a moment on the single bed.

"How'd you take it?"

"What?" Oh, the coffee. "Just as it comes."

Patrick noticed a lamp on a table beside him, so he switched that on. Russ had left the kitchen area to put on a CD and he glanced over and smiled at Patrick, the signal clearly received. Relaxing chill-out music drifted from the stereo. The kettle boiled and Russ made the coffee. When he finished, he brought over the two cups, carrying them in one hand. On the way he flicked off the light.

Patrick sighed after he took his first sip of coffee. "Russ, if you don't mind, I'm going to steal away your French press to take home." Russ raised his eyebrows. "I need real coffee! Nick and Colin just drink instant, because they think it's cheaper. Colin's always trying to save money. You put something down for five minutes, he's got it on eBay in ten."

"Are you getting on okay with them?"

"So far. I don't know what I expected. That every straight man I met would want to kill me or something."

"Most people don't care," Russ said. "They've got better things to do than bother us. It's the ones who go out of their way to bother us you have to watch out for. They've got hate driving them. That's the first step on a road we already know the end of." He shook his head as if trying to shrug off his serious air. "Sorry. Any progress with your family?"

"I'm still kind of afraid to call my mother. My aunt – Nick's mum – is talking to her. Like... an intermediary." Patrick looked around the bedsit again. "Did your parents throw you out or did you leave?"

"I left. I go home to see them every weekend. But, yeah it was best for me to leave."

"To stand on your own feet?"

"Well they're still supporting me, while I'm a student. But living on my own, figuring all that out... It's good to do that at this point rather than later."

"What made you leave?" Patrick reached the bottom of his coffee cup and set it aside. "I mean, what was the final straw?"

"Phil."

"Phil?"

"We've been friends for years, since long before either of us realised we were gay. Truth is, I knew he was gay before he did, and vice-versa. We had this talk, when we were fourteen, and I thought he was going to come out to me, but he actually asked me if I needed to tell him something. We sort of outed each other. We had to tell each other not 'I'm gay', but 'you're gay'." He chuckled. "Weird day that."

"I can imagine!"

"Once my parents found out, a few years after that, they started blaming him, said he'd corrupted me, stuff like that. They banned him from the house. It wasn't fair. And yeah, in the end that's what I couldn't take. Phil didn't deserve that."

"You and Phil, have you been..." Oh, god, what the hell did he think he was asking? Can't ask that. But two young guys, close friends, both gay. Something must have happened.

"What? More than friends? We... practised a bit on each other I suppose you could say, when we were still figuring it out."

"Did you practice kissing with him? Because you're pretty skilled at that."

"Oh?" Russ grinned. "Well, I aim to please." He put down his empty coffee cup. "Would you like another demo?"

Patrick would like. He leaned in and they shared a coffee flavoured kiss. No more pressure than that first one, but Patrick felt the tension rising in his belly.

"Wait," he gasped, pulling away. "I... hang on a minute." Russ sat back, but put his hand on Patrick's knee. "I shouldn't. Simon..."

"Where is this Simon guy right now?"

"He's in New York."

"Nice for him. When's he coming back?"

"I... I don't know. And I can't get in touch with him." That sounded so lame. How could anyone not get in touch these days? No wonder Russ looked dubious.

"Did he ask you to be faithful to him? Do you think he's being faithful to you?"

Patrick bit his lip. "We... never talked about that. I kind of assumed." The thought of Simon with anyone else filled his mouth with a sick taste. He'd never even thought of that. But did he really think Simon, of all people, would be living like a monk over there? How could he be that naïve?

"Patrick," Russ said. "Even long term gay couples aren't usually exclusive that way. I'm sorry, I keep forgetting you don't know this stuff."

"You mean they just... sleep around?"

"They... take opportunities when they arise. Or they look for it because... well, we're men, we like novelty. That's just normal for men."

"Oh. It seems... like a strange way to treat someone you love."

"But love and sex aren't the same thing." He leaned forward. "I want to have sex with you, because I fancy you. I'm not in love with you. I'm no threat to your relationship with Simon, I'm not trying to steal you from him. I just want us to spend some time making each other feel good."

He touched Patrick's shoulder then stroked down his chest, lightly brushing over the nipple under the shirt. Patrick gasped as his body responded to the touch. Sex. Not love. Different to what he had with Simon. He could have something else tonight. Something intense, but only physical, not emotional. Could he separate out his emotions like that? He didn't know that yet. But he knew he wanted this. His cock was already growing hard.

"If you're still not sure, then you should go now." Russ sounded short of breath. His eyes had a frantic look in them and his face was flushed. "You need to decide now. Are you going or staying?"

Patrick decided. He stood up. Crashing disappointment started to show on Russ's face, until Patrick held out his hand. An invitation.

Russ jumped up and pulled Patrick into his arms, crushing their bodies together, lips locked in an instant. Patrick moaned softly, his own desire surging. He dragged Russ's shirt from the waistband of his trousers, so he could reach under it and stroke Russ's firm, muscular back.

Russ's hips pressed into Patrick in reaction to the caress. At the same time, he pushed Patrick slightly, to take a few steps backwards. Patrick knew where they were heading, locked together like a sexy version of a three-legged race.

"I'll fall," he gasped.

"No you won't." Russ walked him there and then let him go. "Okay now you can fall."

Patrick laughed, closer to a giggle, as he fell onto his back on the bed. Russ didn't laugh, still wore a serious, look. Serious purpose. Serious desire.

"Get your shoes off," Russ said, bending to untie his own. Hastily Patrick sat up and bent over the bed to yank on his shoelaces, kicked off the shoes. He pulled off the socks and flung them after the shoes. Russ did crack a smile as a sock flew past him.

"You're one of those guys who wakes up with his pants hanging from the light fitting, aren't you?"

"We'll soon see." Patrick flopped down on his back again, and started fumbling with his belt buckle, his hands shaking too much to get it easily.

"Oh, don't you touch that," Russ said. "That's my job." He got onto the bed, straddling Patrick's legs. Patrick gazed up at the man kneeling over him. Not Simon. Russ. Russ pulled his shirt off over his head, revealing a tanned and well defined torso. He really must work hard at the gym, Patrick thought, he looks fantastic. Russ bent down over him, his bare chest close to Patrick's still covered one. Patrick felt shy about his own body suddenly, knowing he wasn't anything like as fit, but rather more skinny and pasty. Would Russ be turned off by that?

Then he couldn't think straight about anything, as Russ started kissing his neck, lips sliding over the sensitive skin, until Patrick was writhing under him.

"Russ, please, get me out of these clothes," he begged.

Russ gave a soft chuckle. "So impatient. But if you insist." He sat up and undid Patrick's belt buckle, whipping it from the loops with a deft movement. He dropped it on the floor and undid the fly button. Patrick closed his eyes and started reciting the alphabet backwards in his head. If he didn't do that then this was going to end before his trousers were off. He prayed he wouldn't come too soon and make a fool of himself.

Russ unzipped Patrick's trousers and slid them down Patrick's legs, his fingers trailing on the skin. Fuck, he didn't have any condoms! He hadn't expect to need them. Russ himself had said to carry them and now Patrick didn't have any and Russ would think he was an idiot. His trousers were off and Patrick dared to open his eyes.

"Sit up," Russ said. Patrick did and let Russ pull his shirt off. His long hair tickled the skin of his bare back. Russ pushed him to lie down again and he gasped when Russ's hand traced the bulge still trapped by Patrick's briefs.

"I'm sorry," Patrick whispered. "If I come too quick, I'm sorry."

"You haven't come yet. Relax."

He almost did come, when Russ pulled the briefs down quickly. The air on his exposed erection felt like a caress and he gasped and jerked his hips. But Russ said, "Shh," softly and held him down gently, one hand on his belly and produced a pack of condoms from his pocket.

His eyes closed again, Patrick felt Russ roll it on and a second later take Patrick's cock in his mouth. Had he practised this with Phil? He was good, almost as good as Simon. Screw Simon. He wasn't here. He wasn't the one driving Patrick crazy right now. He didn't have exclusive rights to either Patrick's lips or his cock.

"God, Russ," Patrick moaned. "Russ!" he cried. Simon had loved it when Patrick shouted out his name during sex. "Russ!"

Russ didn't react quite as favourably. A second after Patrick cried out, Russ was lying on top of him, his hand over Patrick's mouth and a frantic look in his eyes.

"Shh!" he hissed. "The walls here are paper thin. There's a guy asleep about three feet away from us." He moved his hand away.

Patrick stared up at him. He hadn't even thought of that. Simon's house was outside the village, they could yell to their heart's content.

"I'm sorry," he whispered "I never thought."

"I should have said something sooner," Russ moved down to straddle him again. "You just took me by surprise. Most guys aren't quite so... vocal."

"Sorry. Um, I was quite liking what you were doing to make me yell. If I promise to stay quiet this time could you..."

"Finish the job?" Russ grinned. "I'd be happy to oblige."

Patrick let only moans escape him this time. Perhaps because of the interruption, or perhaps because of Russ's skill, but the feeling of being right on the edge had receded, replaced with a slow steady build up of intense pleasure. He couldn't tell how long it lasted, but the tension built and built until Patrick teetered once more on the edge and... over the edge. Over. His mind went into a white-out, oblivion taking him. No sensation existed but the orgasm.

When he regained his senses, Russ was lying beside him. Patrick gave him a lazy and satisfied smile that he hoped told Russ everything he needed to know. Russ seemed to get the message. He smiled.

"It's your turn," Patrick said. Glancing down he saw Russ had stripped out of his trousers and underwear already and was very much ready for action. He reached for Russ's cock and stroked it, making him moan. Not as big as – stop thinking about Simon. It's big enough.

"Get on your back," Patrick said, trying to sound as assertive as Russ had earlier. He started to manoeuvre them both, but misjudged the width of the bed and almost manoeuvred them both right off the edge. Russ grabbed on for dear life, while Patrick heaved him back. They fell against each other, Russ laughing.

"I'm sorry!" Patrick said. "I'm an idiot!"

"That's okay," Russ said. "There isn't much room. I should get a double, but the room's too small for one."

"Okay, enough talk," Patrick said, mock stern and Russ scooted up the bed to recline against the pillows. Patrick moved the other way, kissing his way down Russ's chest and belly, his hair fall down to tease the firm flesh and make Russ writhe.

"Condom," Patrick said. Russ's hand came into view, the small packet in his fingers. Always prepared. Time to impress him, Patrick decided. Show him I'm not a total fool. He tore the packet, pinched the teat, and rolled it on so fast that Russ stared at him.

"I guess Simon taught you that."

"Yes. He taught me this too."

Patrick went down on him, any guilt and shame over this sinful act was wiped away only a few seconds later by the pleasure of hearing Russ yell much louder than Patrick had. Now that would wake up the guy on the other side of the wall. To keep quiet, Russ grabbed the duvet and bit into it as Patrick worked on him. After a few minutes he suddenly tensed up and then released with a gasp, shuddering.

While he lay there, still trembling, Patrick got rid of the condom and lay down, his pale, slender limbs wrapped around Russ's tanned and sturdier ones. After a moment, Russ opened his eyes and stared at Patrick.

"Next time I'll bring you a stick to bite down on," Patrick said, grinning back at him. Russ didn't laugh, just shook his head.

"You've really only been with one other guy?"

"Yes."

"Who the fuck was he? The king of blow jobs?"

"Russ!" Patrick hissed. Ridiculous, to be shocked to hear the name of the act he'd just performed. "He's pretty... experienced."

"Patrick..." Russ leaned in and ran his hand through Patrick's hair, which lay spread on the pillow. "I don't think you need to worry about this whole problem with your religion. When word gets around the Triangle about you, you'll be able to start your own religion."