I didn’t really have time to think about Ryan’s offer for the next several days. My work and school commitments kept me so busy, and I never seemed to pass him in the building to even say a quick hello.
On Friday, during my shift bussing tables at Boston Pizza, my co-worker noticed I was a little distracted when he caught me forgetting to put out cutlery on my just-wiped tables.
“Henry, what the hell has got you all daydreamy anyway?” he asked. “You finally get a boyfriend?”
I blushed, shaking my head. Frank was gay too, but enjoyed the freedom of one-night-stands and getting groped in back rooms more than I did. Hell, I didn’t even have the time for that.
I guess he could tell from my shamefaced denial that something was up, because he didn’t let it go.
“You met someone, though, right?” he regarded me intently as I shrugged. “Someone hot?”
I met his gaze with what must have been an open confession.
“I knew it! Who is he?” he asked, sitting down in the booth I was cleaning.
“Just this guy in my building.”
“Really? That’s convenient. What’s his name? A fellow student or a working stiff?” he grinned at his pun.
I shrugged again. “He’s older. He works, I guess. He said his name was Ryan Holloway.”
Frank stared at me, and I realized quickly it wasn’t just shock that I’d actually spoken to a hot guy. His face paled and his mouth dropped open for a moment, then closed. He coughed. “Did you say Ryan Holloway?”
I nodded, confused and feeling a little anxious all of a sudden. I’d stopped wiping the table and just stared at Frank’s startled expression. He let out an impressed sigh/whistle as he slowly reached into his back pocket and pulled something out. He unfolded the piece of paper and held it up before me. “Does he look like this?”
My mouth went dry as I examined the full page add for some downtown establishment named…Holloway’s.
There was my sexy neighbour. But he wasn’t wearing jeans and a t-shirt in this picture. He wore a leather harness, leather pants and heavy motorcycle boots. He looked…even hotter. And…kneeling at his booted feet was a young blond man, about my age, with spiky hair and a dog collar, his hands resting reverently on Ryan’s hips, his cheek pressed against the older man’s leathered thigh.
“What is that?” I finally asked.
“Is this him? Seriously, is this the Ryan Holloway that you’re talking about?”
“Yes…” I stammered.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed, regarding me with sudden respect. “You little shit.”
I looked at him, surprised. He’d never called me anything like that before.
He laughed and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe your luck.” He waved the flyer before me. “Ryan Holloway is the sexiest fucking leather daddy in this city. He owns this place,” he said, stabbing the flyer with his index finger. “Obviously.”
Since I continued to stare at him, dumfounded, he continued.
“Holloway’s is the hottest BDSM spot in town. There are back rooms there to beat ALL back rooms. And I should know.”
I sat down in the booth, feeling panicky, rather than lucky, at the moment. For some reason, the image of the Ryan I’d had coffee with last week didn’t mesh with this new information. “Maybe it’s not the same guy,” I said, taking the flyer from Frank and examining it more closely.
It was definitely him. There could be no mistake.
Frank laughed again. “You had no idea?”
I shook my head.
“How did you meet him?”
I told Frank about losing my key and how nice Ryan had been, inviting me in for coffee and later, blatantly asking me out.
“Oh. My. God. Half the fags in this city would piss their pants to get a chance like that! You are one lucky guy, Henry.”
Our manager, Sarah, interrupted our chat. “Henry, can you get Table Six for me, please?”
“Sure. I’m almost done here.” I said, stuffing the flyer in my pocket.
“Frank, they need you in the kitchen,” she mentioned, not noticing his military salute when she turned her back on us.
Our eyes met and he leaned close. “Don’t worry, Ryan’s a pussycat. Even though he eats boys like you for breakfast.” He winked and then left me to my task.
I felt my cock harden as my insides turned to jelly.
~ from my story for the Goodreads Love Has No Boundaries event, to be published July 2013.