1. This Place could Eat Him Alive Pt. 03


    Date: 6/22/2024, Categories: Gay Male, Author: byJB_betweenboyfriends 

    Having reached the two-date mark, things were still uncertain between me and Brent. Sometimes I believed we were, or would be, boyfriends. But other times I thought I was jumping the gun, and that it was smarter to take things slow and keep my options open. After all, now that I'd been with Brent, I knew I still had something to offer. Maybe I needed to see what else was out there for me.

Or maybe I was just scared to get too invested in one person too quickly. My last relationship had been something of a disaster. Eli was my age and at a similar point in his career, but he was married, and ultimately gave up and dumped me because he couldn't risk his wife finding out. It was one of those situations where your friends keep telling you this isn't a good idea, and they end up being right.

Brent wasn't married, but he was young: 27, while I was 43. And he was almost too attractive. I wasn't going to be so quick to commit this time. I'd had enough of lonely nights crying over something that was never going to work. Or so I told myself.

So, about a week after my second date with Brent, I made a conscious decision to go back to the gay club I'd frequented back in the days before I met Eli. I didn't dance, but I often chatted up guys at the bar and had a good time. Sometimes I clicked with someone and we'd hook up. Usually just once. If they texted or called again, I wouldn't answer. It helped me get over Eli, and the casual sex was satisfying in a mindless sort of ...
    ... way.

Showing up there was a little strange. It had been years since I'd gone, and the club had changed some. But it was still the same basic setup: dance floor, bar, and the stage for bands. A few small tables near the stage.

There were a few regulars I'd gotten to know a little, when I'd gone in often. I immediately spotted one of them: Eddie, a friendly guy and expert dancer who everyone knew. He wasn't my usual type, so we never got together, but I'd talked with him before over drinks. He had an ageless quality; he might have been anywhere between 30 and 45. I went over to say hello, hoping he would remember who I was.

He did. "Hey, Drew! Long time no see. Where you been at, man?"

"Around. You know, work and all that," I replied. "I seem to have become an adult somehow."

"Hahah, not me! Never." He grinned. "You want to have a drink and catch up a little? Dance floor is still pretty slow at this hour."

One drink soon became two, after which I stopped, but Eddie kept going. He was doing his version of flirting: playfully pushing me in the shoulder, leaning towards me, and looking me up and down. He was always more aggressive than I liked, but he had a certain appeal. What you saw was what you got, with Eddie. And he wasn't bad-looking, if you could tolerate the tattoos covering his arms and chest (most including some variety of skull) and black eyeliner. Even his hands and neck were inked.

At some point he asked, "you been seeing anyone?"

"Sort of," I ...
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