The Guy With the Suitcase (Once Upon a Guy #1) (12 page)

Damian, as it turned out, lived in an apartment complex not more than ten floors in height. He lived on the ninth, in a studio flat, unlike his image. His clothes screamed “I’ve got money and I ain’t afraid to use it”, but his house screamed — no, more like whispered, “welcome to my humble abode”. It was a simple place with pastel yellow walls, a couple of sofas, a small TV, books, magazines and everything in between thrown everywhere and a kitchen that seemed eager to be more uptight, but whose anime inhabitants begged to differ. There was everything from Pokemon mugs to Attack on Titans cutting boards and Minecraft fridge magnets. Damian was a super geek and he hid it very well.

Damian rushed to tidy the living room up while Pierce took a tour of the house and used the bathroom. When he returned to the main room, Damian was sat down on the sofa in his pajamas, holding a remote and the TV tuned in on Netflix.

“I thought you were joking about watching Netflix,” Pierce joked.

Damian laughed. “Well, the night is still young, and I needs to catch up on Once Upon A Time,” he responded and put his show on as Pierce took seat next to him. “You can take your shoes off if you want. Feel at home”.

Pierce did take his shoes off and thank the divinities that he had bought new socks and actually
worn
them today before work, or Damian would have been introduced to skanky, rugged Mr. Sock and its holes.

For the next forty minutes, Damian’s only words were a commentary accompaniment with the new episode, a show Pierce had never watched and which he’d have missed even if he did. He
did
try to share Damian’s excitement, but half the time he didn’t know what was happening and the other half what the characters were talking about. So he kept his own quiet and waited for the episode to finish.
 

Damian poured them some wine. He didn’t know how that man could still drink after so many beers and how he could still be awake. Pierce’s own eyes were feeling heavier by the minute. But that was when things got interesting, and all his senses — and some parts — fully awoke.

Damian had put a slow song on and took a seat next to Pierce, grabbing his cock fervently, surprising Pierce. Next, he dug his face into his and kissed him with passion, his tongue fighting with Pierce’s. Pierce let Damian use him as he pleased, stretching his hands to his side and relaxing his body in its position. But Damian seemed eager to juice Pierce out before doing anything else.

And just when Pierce got comfortable in Damian’s arms and everything seemed as many miles away as they actually were when he closed his eyes, Rafe’s affectionate smile attacked him, standing still in front of him, laughing, or simply staring.
 

Pierce flicked his eyes wide open and looked at Damian’s rich eyelids, envisioning something completely different in the darkness they let in his eyes. Pierce focused his gaze on him.

Damian was starting to move on to the neck and pulled Pierce’s shirt off before he moved to his nipples. Pierce followed his every step, bringing his mind’s attention to the handsome man adoring his body. But every step that brought Damian closer to Pierce’s crotch, his face was replaced with Rafe’s dark features, his full lips kissing his abs, his eyes looking back at Pierce, ensuring he was doing everything right.

Damian/Rafe unzipped Pierce’s jeans and Pierce felt the pang of guilt down on his chest. He pushed Damian up and told him he couldn’t. Damian didn’t look offended, only curious.

“I…I just don’t want my first time to be like this,” he said to him. He got up, zipped his pants, and started looking for his jacket when Damian reached for his hand.

“You’re a virgin?” he asked him. Again, his face seemed to apologize more than looking for an apology.

Pierce nodded.

Damian rubbed Pierce’s hand. “Aw, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have been so forward if I’d known. You’re such a good kisser,” he pulled Pierce back down to the sofa and put a little distance between them without letting go of his hand.

Pierce blushed. “Thanks. But it’s not that. I’ve done things with boys before. Just never anything below the waist. And it’s not that. I’m not holier-than-thou, only willing to give it to the only one. It’s just, I’m…there’s…I…” he begun, but didn’t know how to describe Rafe’s intrusion in their little session.

“There’s another guy, and, let me guess, he’s haunting your thoughts?” Damian concluded with more resolution than someone clueless. Pierce nodded. “I know. I’ve been through that crap. I understand. I just hope he’s worth it. You’re a fine man,” he said.

Pierce shook his head. “He’s better than I’ll ever be,” he said even though he didn’t know where it’d come from and how he’d come to that conclusion. He barely even knew Rafe. How was it possible he was saying things like that?

“That’s adorable. You’re in love,” Damian replied as if reading his mind. Pierce didn’t respond. “Good luck with him. I hope he doesn’t torture you,” Damian let go of Pierce’s hand and got up. “Well, I’m beat. You can crash here if you want to”.

“Really? But we didn’t even—,” Pierce started to say, but Damian interrupted him.

“Who do you think I am, mister? A slut? Just because we didn’t do anything I’ll throw you out so late in the night? Puh-lease,” he said and giggled, heading off into his bedroom.

He brought a pillow and a blanket to Pierce, who embraced them both and as soon as the lights went out, his eyes closed.

Pierce might not have managed to get Rafe out of his mind over the next few days, but had managed to make a new friend in Damian, who had dropped by Les Fourches on both Friday and Saturday to chat with Pierce and grab some food, before heading off to dates.

“I want to find a guy to torture my own thoughts and dreams,” Damian told him before heading out, leaving behind a $10 tip.

Despite Pierce’s repeated insistence that nothing had happened between the two, almost the entire staff were in on the joke that Vance himself had started about Pierce having found a ‘boyfriend’.

“He’s a really good guy, Vance. But I’m not interested. Maybe
you
are. Word of caution, though. He’s a real geek,” Pierce told Vance for the millionth time.

“I love me a good geek,” was his reply as he set off to show a new arrival to their table.

“I’ll set it up,” Pierce shouted his way, turning a few heads his way. “What?” he told the people looking at him.

The next day, Sunday, he was off work until the next weekend, so after waking up and checking out of the hostel later than usual, he decided to take a walk to one of the restaurants around the accommodation. He had changed hostels since he’d got a job and had found something even cheaper now that he had access to the internet and set dates. He had kept true to his word and only stayed in one the day before his shift until the day after. Usually a three-night stay that cost him $100. He was okay with the arrangement since he was slowly building up his funds to find his own place. The next hostel was only a street away from where he’d saved Rafe.

Not that he had seen Rafe. He assumed he was staying away from a place he considered dangerous. Not only had he been attacked by a gang, but by a homeless dude who had played nice, but treated him like a dickhead in the end.

He found his new, favorite local restaurant and took a seat inside, ordering a soda and some bread for starters. He kept looking out the window, unwilling to lose hope at the chance to meet Rafe. He ended up ordering a mushroom and lentil soup and french fries. A cringe-worthy combo, perhaps, but one he’d been craving for since the night before.

When he was all paid up, he went out and the sky was dark. It was already 7 p.m. and with clocks going backward a week ago it looked much later than it felt. He didn’t know where he was going tonight. The weather was not as chilly as the other nights, but why would he ever sleep outside when he had the moderate warmth of the subway? He knew where the closest station was and made his way towards it, cutting through a street he hadn’t before.

It was dark and quiet, a lot of cars driving by in slow motion. The further down he walked, he saw there were a lot of people standing on both sides of the street. They were all young men. He had, accidentally, found a cruising place. He tried not to stare, but the more gazes he felt on him, the more he felt inclined to look back. Some even howled at him, trying to get picked up. Even if he did want one, what would he possibly say? “I have this cozy train on the 3-Line we can use”?

A car slowed down and he heard a familiar voice. His eyes traced it, and his legs took him closer.
 

“I’m
very
good with whips,” Rafe said to the driver of a crimson Volkswagen. “If that’s what you’re into,” he added.

He didn’t sound normal. Not like the sweet Rafe he’d talked to. He sounded passionate and sexy. He sounded dirty.

“Rafe?” he called to him.

Rafe turned his head and saw Pierce. His eyes grew wide. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing. Are you actually selling yourself to a stranger?” Pierce said before he could stop himself, realizing how accusatory he had sounded.

“What it’s got to do with you if I do?” Rafe asked.

Pierce got closer. He was only a few feet from Rafe, now. “Nothing, I know. But how can you trust that all these people don’t have AIDS or something? How can you trust they’re not ax murderers?” Pierce pleaded with Rafe.

“Hey! I’m just a teacher, dude,” the guy from inside the car said.

“Yeah, have you heard of Grindr,
dude
?” Pierce replied, turning his attention back to Rafe.

Rafe had already opened the door to the car. “Let me get this straight, Pierce. You have no right to judge me. You have no right to control me. I don’t know you and
you
don’t know
me
. So do us both a favor and get the fuck out of here. You’re polluting everyone with your crappy energy,” he said and got in the car. “Drive,” he told the ‘teacher’ and the red Volkswagen veered off, leaving Pierce alone with a bunch of rentboys staring at him.

He shook the tears he wasn’t aware were threatening his eyes and resumed his journey to the subway station.

Had he hurt Rafe so bad he found the need to sell his body to survive, or had that been something he was already doing when he met him? He couldn’t imagine the sweet boy sexing it up for money. Hell, he couldn’t imagine him finding pleasure in any sexual endeavor. And not because he wasn’t attractive, but because he seemed so innocent, too innocent, to be doing anything as dirty as sex with strangers.

He really wanted to talk to Rafe and explain himself, but he didn’t seem as eager to do the same. Had he been such a complete tool that it had cost himself a good friend? What could he possibly do to make it up to him?
 

What was he supposed to do until next Friday, when his next shift was? Thinking of the week ahead, he already felt lonely. Sure, he could swing by his work and have a drink, but why spend money and delay his apartment hunt? And then, he thought, what was the point of saving to find a room to rent, if he had no one to invite, no one to share its warmth with?

How he missed home. He might not have been accepted for who he was there, but he had friends that visited him and did things together, or he always had his mother to cook with, which was a fun activity, even though she thought being vegan was Satan clawing his way to Pierce’s soul.
 

He saw a phone booth and the longing to call home clawed in his heart just like his veganism had supposedly and he found himself dialing home in no time.

“Hello!” came the answer from who other than his mom.

“Hi, mom,” he told her.

There was a deafening pause for a few seconds.

“Why are you calling, Pierce? Did you decide to atone for your sins and claim the Heavenly Father as your Lord and Savior again?”

Pierce rolled his eyes. “No,” he told her, “I called to tell you that I found a job last month and soon I’ll be able to afford a room to live in”.

Another long pause. He was trying to determine whether the pause was a delay in the line, or his mother thinking what insult to throw next. “Pierce, you know you always have a home here, with your father and I. All you have to do is ask for forgiveness and stop…sinning,” she said with her shrill voice. A voice that actually had the ability to turn Pierce into the devil his mother was so afraid of.

“I can’t believe your
homeless
son is calling you after six months and that’s all you have to tell him,” he asked maintaining his calm. For now.

She exhaled with attitude. The attitude that said, “Oh, Pierce, you’re so young and, you know nothing”.
 

“I cannot give up my place in Heaven because my son has decided to,” she said in a calm manner, “I don’t know what kind of people you’ve met to have made you this way, but I can’t have you sinning under my roof.”

He could picture her in his head. The way she would smile gently. The way her eyes would squint and her cheeks would ball up, forming a fake tenderness that could send Pierce ballistic.

“Go fuck yourself,” he said, and slammed the phone back on the receiver. There were a million things he wanted to tell her. But that seemed to sum everything up. She was not a mother. She was a puppet. And he didn’t know if puppets had the ability to acquire knowledge or even listen.