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8

Merc

“ I wasn’t sure that you’d actually meet me?” I grinned. I was way too happy that he’d come. There was just something about him, about our last interaction, that had really floored me.

“Well… What did I have to lose?” He slid into the booth. I noticed that he kept himself on the far side of the booth. “If you annoy me, I can fucking leave. Besides, my cock is gonna be up your ass in a few days.” His fucking smirk made my heart beat faster. It was not fair that someone this fucking hot existed in the world.

“I know.” I narrowed my eyes. “Contracts have been signed, and it’s official. My cock will also be up yours if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah…” He glanced down at the table. “That was a surprise.”

“Let me get you a drink.” I raised my hand to call over the bartender.

“What is this a date? I can get my own,” he scoffed and raised his hand.

“It’s a nicety. I… didn’t hate our conversation the other night. Actually, I thought it was fun.” I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

“Well, we weren’t trying to…” The bartender came over, and Ty glanced at my beer. “Is that an IPA? I’ll just have that.” The bartender nodded, and TY looked back at me. “What was I saying? Oh! We weren’t trying to beat each other up.”

I roared with laughter. He just kept surprising me over and over. “True. You’re a fucking duelist, Prince of Cats.”

He frowned. “I hate that.”

I leaned back in the booth and took a sip of my beer. “You’re not as big of a dick as I thought you’d be. I mean, now that we’re not trying to kill each other, as you say.”

The frown flipped, and once again, that easy smile splayed across and brightened his face. “Oh, the jury is still out. I plan on sticking you with my sword.” He winked, and I almost spit out the beer I had just swallowed.

“You are the captain of compliments . The very butcher of a bottom .” I winked back. Flirting with him was coming too easily, and I enjoyed it too much. He might not be the enemy right now, but he was still dangerous.

“When I need to be. Did you think I’d be like Roam or Jules? Do I come off that pompous?” The waiter brought over his beer and set it down. He picked it up, and I held my glass aloft, too. “Thank you.”

“Actually, yeah… I guess so... Sometimes. I mean, we don’t really know each other. All I know of you is street fights and videos.” He did have an aloofness to him. That’s probably one of the reasons he was so popular. He was a mystery or an enigma that fucked like a Wildman but kept his secrets from the public.

“We won’t know each other after we fuck either.” He looked back up at me. “It’s just a scene.”

“I know that. But I had… fun?” Is that what I would call it? He made my stomach tumble in a way I wasn’t used to. It was stupid, and it was going to cause me pain. This guy could mortally wound me if I let him in. I shouldn’t. “Would it be horrible if we actually became friendly?”

He shrugged and tilted his head to look at me. His movement was fluid, like that of a dancer or a fencer in the middle of a joust. “The studios will be back at each other’s throats soon enough. You know that those two will never be able to get along.”

I took a deep breath and moved my glass to the right. “Doesn’t mean we can’t.”

“No, I guess it doesn’t.” He chuckled and nodded before pushing his glass to the left. “I didn’t hate our conversation either. You’re funny.”

It was like I was playing a game of beer chess with him. In truth, I just wanted a clear view of the way his t-shirt hugged his chest. It was inspiring and made my crotch jump at the thought of running my hands over it. “Yeah, I’m a fucking clown. At least, that’s what Monty says people want to see. That dichotomy of the stupid straight boy who fucks like a madman when he finally lets himself go. That’s what Monty says is my lane, and I should stay in it.”

“He didn’t like the idea of you bottoming, did he?” Ty looked at me perplexed. “My uncle had no trouble offering my ass up to you.”

“Yeah, I noticed. You turned white when he agreed. But… No. I’ve been trying to get him to let me be vers for a while to switch it up. He wouldn’t hear of it,” I admitted. It was easy to admit that I wanted to bottom to the one man I really wanted to top me.

“You… uh… want to?” He cocked an eyebrow and stared at me.

I grinned widely. “Oh, yeah. I prefer it, actually.”

His eyes widened as he stared at me as if he were seeing me for the first time. “Wow… ok… A big dicked bottom… You don’t see that too often.”

“There’s been a few, but none of them are the stars of their studios, are they? Audiences like that twink boy look. It’s not realistic at all. We’re gay men, and that shit isn’t so cut and dry.”

“Realistic?” He scoffed. “Realism isn’t what they pay to see.” He looked down at his beer and spun it slowly around with his fingers.

“Isn’t it? It would be nice to actually have sex with someone without having to… I haven’t fucked someone who didn’t expect a porn star fuck from me in a long time.” I smirked.

“It’s this business. I wouldn’t hate it so much if I didn’t have to escort, too.” He glanced back at me, and his mask had fallen. Here was a piece of truth that he was offering to me like an olive branch. “I hate that shit most of the time.”

“The life of a whore.” I picked up my glass and held it aloft.

“I hate that word.” He picked his up but didn’t hold it up. This was a challenge of some sort.

“Isn’t that what we are when you get to the core of what we do?” I shrugged.

“It cheapens it… me.”

“Oh, sex worker… I get it,” I chuckled. He hefted his glass up, and we met in the middle with a dull clink. “I just like to cut to the chase, and it is the world's oldest profession.”

“Did you see who’s directing?” He changed the subject deftly. Another small clue about himself that he didn’t mean to reveal. He was ashamed of what he did for a living.

“Yeah… Both of them. That should be… Let’s try not to get involved in their squabbling. Let’s focus on each other.” I offered and took a sip of my beer but kept eye contact with his beautiful emerald eyes. I could drown in them.

He smirked. “So… you want me to focus on you, huh?”

I felt the blush creep into my already flushed cheeks. The way he looked at me as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to fuck or kill me was already making me twisted up inside. “That’s… uh… not quite what I meant. For the cameras, you know… Let’s stay in the scene and not... Supposedly, we’re doing a live stream. So, there won’t be all those setups if that’s true. We can just keep getting down to… uh… business.”

He chuckled. “Top-tier porn, huh? I haven’t paid too much attention. It’s happening, and I know it’s with you , so… That’s all the power I have. The rest will be their decisions.”

“Isn’t it always?” I shrugged and waved at the bartender to bring us another round.

“I heard they used to be together. That was before I came to live there. He never really talks about it.” Ty got this faraway look in his eyes. It made me want to reach out and touch him. But we weren’t to that point yet. Maybe we never would be. But I hoped – maybe. He excited me and scared the fuck out of me.

“Is he really your uncle?” I asked slowly, wondering if this would be a sore spot for him.

“I’d rather not talk about that,” he replied flatly, and just in time, we were saved by the bartender dropping off our drinks. “Thanks.”

“All right. No problem. Yeah, they were together. That’s the story I heard, anyway. You’ve seen the videos where they share a twink pretending like it’s an audition, right? You can still find them on some of the torrent sites. They’re… I think they’re hard to watch. Not my kink, I guess.”

“I don’t want to see them, but… It’s hard to imagine that they ever liked each other, much less loved each other. I never knew Monty when I was younger. Cappie always hid me away with a nanny until I was old enough to join him. Sometimes, I miss that little house and her tamales. I almost never saw him until… Well, here we are.”

“That’s… damn. Sorry, Ty.” I exhaled slowly. “That’s a lot.”

“I didn’t ask for your sympathy.” The steel in his voice told me that I should move on quickly.

“I know, but… Anyway… It’s still shitty. The business got between them. That’s what I’ve always heard. When they dissolved everything, it took them both a few years to pivot, and within a few months of Monty starting his studio, Cappie did too. Now here we are living in their shit.”

“What’s your story? Turnaround is fair play.” He glanced around the bar and then looked back at me, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t really have a story.” I shrugged. “Not a good one anyway.”

“Everyone has a story who does this, Merc. I mean, if you’re too scared to…”

“It’s not that.” I laughed. “I just… I woke up a few days after my eighteenth birthday and decided that what I wanted to do more than anything in the world was to have sex. It was all I thought about. The family and I were… Well, we weren’t in the best of places. They didn’t like that I was gay. So, I hopped on a… a Greyhound and came to Los Angeles. The first place I stopped was Monty’s, and here I am.”

“You chose this?” he asked incredulously. “No one chooses this. Not what we do.”

“Yeah, I never said I made good choices.” I stuck my tongue out stupidly, trying to veer the conversation away from this topic. That was a secret that I didn’t want to share and hadn’t with anyone. Only Monty knew because he made it his mission to learn more about me after a time. When he called me into his office and told me that he knew everything, it scared the hell out of me.

“Apparently.” He took a sip and then set his glass down quickly. “Only a fucking moron chooses to give away pieces of their soul.”

“What soul?” I chuckled. “Hey, I invited you here. Was that a good choice?”

“The jury’s still out. You do appear to be, however, a nut.” He laughed easily, and I took a deep breath. The crisis was hopefully averted.

“Am I a hard nut to crack? Because you sure are.”

“A swift kick to the nuts will usually suffice.” He leaned forward and dropped his voice to a very sexy growl. “Maybe I’ll grab and pull them while I’m pounding you so hard you have to beg for mercy on our livestream.”

“Maybe I’ll enjoy it?” I winked. “The life of a whore.”

“Sex worker,” he demanded, keeping his voice low.

“Listen, pretty boy.”

“Aw, you noticed.”

I pointed my finger at him. “You’re not Richard Gere, and I’m not Julia Roberts, and this ain't the fucking Beverly Hilton, so we can drop all of the...”

“It was the Regent Beverly Wilshire, you fucking idiot.”

“Who cares about which hotel it… I think we’re both idiots. We fuck for a living.”

He smiled sadly. “I can’t really argue with that.” He picked his beer back up and took a large swig.

“I didn’t think you could. Because even if we are both idiots, we’re not dumb.”

“That appears to be true.” He narrowed his eyes. God, this man was a fucking predator, and I wanted to be his prey too badly.

“Do you hate it as much as I do? I mean, not always, but mostly. I used to love it, and now…” I shrugged.

“Mostly – Yes, me too.” He nodded, and we stared at each other for a minute without speaking. The connection between us was stronger than ever.

“Fuck…” I finally broke our silence. “I wish I was Julia Roberts.”

He shook his head slowly. “Sugar daddies are never the answer. We all age.”

“Maybe he’ll die before he can find someone younger?” I winked.

“Well, with a cock as big as yours, maybe it won’t matter.” He huffed, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

“The same could be said for you. I’m big, but yours is… I mean… I’m eight, but you're bigger than that, and Jesus, your girth is… it both scares and excites me.” I admitted, and my cock throbbed in my pants as I thought about it.

“God,” he looked at me as if he couldn’t understand what he was thinking. “I wish you were really a bottom and in our studio.”

“I think we should have another round, don’t you.”

“Why not.”

We talked until we were too drunk to continue. I thought that he was going to hug me, but he turned away at the last moment, and I watched him walk down the street until he was out of view.