tagGay MaleThree Strikes Ch. 16

Three Strikes Ch. 16

byMrsgnomie©

I set the bag of alcohol and mixers on the table, along with some beer for the heteros. It'd been a very long week, as far as work was concerned. I'd worked over sixty hours, thanks to others taking vacation time or calling in for this reason or that. I was exhausted, but there was no time for that. It was time to square up on our deal and I had all weekend off to recover from my exhaustion.

Somehow, it'd been decided the DONNAS and the DAKS would convene at my house to prepare for the big night out. I had the most club clothes, so it made sense. I'd texted my friends throughout the day and they decided they'd all bring a few extra items so DAKS had a wide variety to choose from.

I was actually looking forward to the night out since things had been tense between us all after things blew up between Shane and me. We were riding this weird vortex where we all pretending like things were fine, but in reality, it wasn't. Having mended things with Shane had alleviated a lot of the hurt I felt from their lack support, but not completely. I was hoping after spending the evening together we could all move forward.

The DONNAS had shown up early, as was standard protocol anytime strangers decided to descend upon our normal prep assembly. We needed a few extra minutes to prepare for the guests.

The twins were in my closet and tossing out potential clothing items while the rest of us sorted through the additional items everyone had brought from their homes. Sammy held up two pair of daisy duke shorts—one lime green and one hot pink—that were basically glorified underwear.

"Twenty bucks says Drew has the twins wear these."

"Do you really think Drew is going have them wear that much? We're talking about a straight boi who's dying for a gay experience—he picked the twins for Pete's sake. I'll see your twenty and raise you another twenty that they end up wearing nothing more than..." I dug through the pile of skimpy clothes until I lifted out a set of string bikini bottoms for men, "These."

I looked at the twins, who clearly thought the whole conversation was funny.

"All I'm saying is...be prepared. Drew's low key trying to dip his toe and wet his penis with an XY chromosome."

"You're full of shit," Olie narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out if I was bluffing.

"Not at all. In fact, I just cleaned myself out before you got here. One never knows what tonight might bring and I want to be prepared," I winked as the group collectively rolled their eyes but laughed nonetheless. "But in all seriousness, Drew's been in my business for months. I'm one hundred percent positive he would've fucked me already if I'd given him the chance, but I haven't, so now he's moving on to the twins."

"I don't believe you."

I shrugged. "Fine, just watch."

That's when the doorbell sounded and everyone froze. We stared at each other for a moment then simultaneously rushed downstairs like a pack of dogs after a laser light. I swung the door open to find four, smiling, good looking men standing there.

"Welcome! Grab yourself a pre-party drink and then we'll get started," I greeted as I opened the door wider and waved them in.

Allé and Olie were in the kitchen starting on our signature drinks. The DAKS stepped into the house one by one and when it was Drew's turn, he leaned forward, kissed my cheek, and gave me a half-hug. I looked around to make sure my unbelieving friends had witnessed it—they had.

The twins led the guests to the kitchen and, like a gracious host, I trailed behind. At first, it was a little awkward because no one actually knew what to do, but after Allé and Olie made a few drinks, and I started the home tour, things mellowed and everyone appeared to be more at ease.

Shane had been quiet since arriving. He only made eye contact with me when he entered, along with casual greeting, but after that it was a 'speak when spoken to' situation. I'm embarrassed by how many times I looked at him in hopes he was looking at me, only to find him looking elsewhere. He was being super respectful about my space and it was slightly irritating. And while everyone chatted and walked around my home, he hung back, in the shadows. When we finely made it to my room, which looked like a hurricane passed through with clothes strewn everywhere, a wide-eyed and shocked Shane looked around my room in shock.

"What happened in here?"

"We're sorting through clothes you all might find helpful," Nick offered, tossing the donation pile off to the side.

We had a fun time while showing off some of the clothes we'd collected over the years. I didn't think the guys were quite prepared for our inventory. As we held things up and showed them off, Aaron, Kurt, and Drew would grab the occasional articles they'd found amusing, just in case they'd decide to include them in their ensemble. Shane, on the other hand, although finding the whole thing funny, didn't appear to be interested in what we had to offer.

"Who wore those?" Shane asked.

Nelly looked inquisitively at the black, spandex boy shorts he was holding up, then looked at me.

"Wasn't this you?"

I nodded.

He looked at Shane while answering.

"That's what I thought. It was Donovan."

Shane's eyes were wide with shock and disapproval.

"You wore...just that...in public?"

"Of course not. I also had black combat boots and a black beret," I smiled brightly.

"That sounds hot."

Drew's comment wasn't lost on the rest of the group as knowing eyes darted around the room.

"It was! If I remember correctly, Donovan was approached about being the star of an orgy that night. Did you ever take them up on that?" Allé teased.

"Hell, no. I might dress slutty, but I'm a gentleman," I laughed.

Nelly gave me a knowing look of disbelief. "Mmm, hmm."

My face lit up like a Christmas tree—so much for being discreet. In an effort to end the conversation that might lead to the exposure of things best left in the dark, I ripped the spandex from Nelly's hands, tossed them toward the bathroom.

"Anyway, what are we going to wear tonight? I shaved in all of the right places so, you know, I'm ready for anything," I smiled, brightly while wiggling my eye brows.

There was something exciting about the anticipation—knowing Shane was going to dress me in a way that I was sure he thought would be hot, then I'd get to spend all night making sure he was watching me. I was curious about his taste and what he'd considered "hot club attire." We'd never made it that far in our relationship. The bar was low since he obviously thought the romper was hot.

Aaron and Drew laughed as they rummaged through a few things until they each held an armful of clothes. Drew appeared excited to dress the twins in matching, spandex singlets that covered only the essentials. I raised my brow and laughed as my friends took turns looking at me. Everything Drew had said or did had proved my point, and no one was happier about it than the twins. Honestly, I hoped something would happen that might put my incident with the twins out of the potential spotlight. I didn't want that topic brought up...ever.

After the twins had happily strutted their spandex-clad bodies around the room, Aaron started to get tired of waiting his turn so he dismissed Drew and the twins while tossing clothes to both Olie and Sammy, who happily grabbed them as if they were their first presents of Christmas morning.

"Okay, okay! Next!"

They were laughing, excitedly, as they raced each other to the bathroom. We could easily hear them laughing as they got ready together. After a few minutes the door burst open as they exploded out of the bathroom. \With their hands on their hips, they walked the invisible catwalk that the twins had previously dominated.

Sammy wore faux leather pants and a dark-green, cut-off sweatshirt with a wide, boat neck that hung off of his shoulder—it was actually quite flattering for his chubby frame. Olie wore daisy duke shorts with a neon, fishnet tank top.

Neither of their outfits were shocking, not for us anyway, but I was sure Aaron thought it was totally freaking them out. As far as I was concerned, they were suitably dressed for a Mormon-inspired gay club, if there was such a thing.

While we sat around, Drew and Aaron were preening like peacocks as we complemented and praised them for their choices of outfits. Allé and I were still wearing our normal clothes. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, but I was getting more and more anxious as the seconds passed.

My curiosity was piqued because Shane seemed so uninterested in the clothes we had presented, I wanted to find out what Shane had planned for me. Secretly, I'd also hoped it'd break the awkward ice wall that'd been between us.

"What about us? I didn't see anybody grab anything. Did you not see anything that struck a fancy?" Allé finally spoke.

As Kurt grabbed two, brown, paper bags from the hall.

"We went shopping and brought the stuff with us." He handed one to Shane and tossed the other one to Allé. "There you go!"

I watched as Allé rummaged through the bag and laughed.

"I'm going to change in the bathroom. BRB!" He tossed us a peace sign as he closed the door behind him.

He came back out a few minutes later wearing bleach-washed cut offs, which belonged in the 70's, and a soft-pink sweater with a giant, white cat on the front. To top it off, he wore a headband with cat ears on it. Allé strutted out of the bathroom and down the invisible cat walk, (which was oddly suiting, considering his outfit) where he turned a few times before sashaying back.

"Meow!" I purred, raking my "claws" through the air.

Leave it to Kurt to do the unexpected. Everyone else had dressed outrageously, but Allé was dressed as a seventy-year-old woman in a thirty-five-year-old man's body. We spent the next few minutes ribbing his outfit, although it was weirdly fitting and we all secretly loved it. It was so terribly awesome and I had no doubt he'd be the center of attention all night.

When everyone had had their fill, Allé asked Shane about my outfit, to which Shane pushed himself off of the back wall and handed me the last brown bag.

I was excited to see what I was going to get, knowing that Allé's outfit was legit, and Shane was shopping with Kurt. I was actually a little jealous and thought, maybe, I'd get the same thing but with a dog. I loved dogs. I pulled the bag open and furrowed my brow when I saw the items. I continued to dig until my brain had fully processed what I was looking at.

"Go change. Everything you need is in there," Shane assured me. Although, he wasn't all that assuring as my face filled with horror.

"I have to wear it...all?"

Shane nodded.

As I walked to the bathroom, everyone's curious eyes were on me. I closed the door behind me, dumped the contents of the bag onto the floor, lifted each piece into the full light of day for inspection. I wanted to cry.

"No!" I whined and pleaded loud enough for everyone to hear. "This is such fucking bullshit! I'll take you up on that rematch!" I shouted through the closed door.

Still obviously upset that I'd denied a rematch when he wanted one, Aaron shouted, "Too bad! Now get dressed!"

I laid the clothes out and slowly got dressed. When I was done, I looked into the mirror and cringed. Hideous! There was nothing remotely sexy or amusing about my outfit. There were a few quick knocks before Shane's voice came barreling through the door.

"Everything, Donovan!" His voice was pointed and I wondered how he knew I didn't have it all on?

I grabbed the accessories he'd been so kind to pack then collected myself with a deep, calming breath before opening the door. Everyone was totally silent as they took in the sight before them then, as if on cue, they erupted with laughter.

"Cat-walk! Cat-walk!" They demanded, in unison.

I stiffly walked to the other side of the room, turned quickly, and walked back. If they'd wanted a good show, they were sorely disappointed. By the time I was done, they were laughing even harder.

"Where'd you get this stuff?" I asked a smug looking Shane.

He'd rounded up an ugly, plaid, short-sleeved, button shirt; pleated khaki shorts that were way too long; striped diabetic looking socks that covered my calves; beige Rockport walking shoes; thick, non-prescription glasses that were gawdy and ugly; and a stupid pocket protector with three pens.

"My grandpa," Shane proudly smiled at my misery.

"Thomas?" I was surprised his grandpa had gone for it. I'd thought we were friends!

He nodded.

"I should've burned his clothes when I had the chance," I murmured to myself.

Everyone laughed harder.

"I look like a forever virgin and I think these are actual diabetic socks," I moved my leg side to side as I looked at them in detail.

"You're not getting laid tonight!" Aaron laughed at me and gave a thumbs up to Shane.

*** *** *** ***

We'd been at the club for less than an hour before we'd decided to hit the dance floor. Without fail, every time one of them looked at me, they'd start laughing. It was not the kind of attention I enjoyed.

"Stop laughing."

"I can't. It doesn't matter how sexy you try to dance, you look so...ridiculous."

Nick had barely finished his sentence before he keeled over, laughing. I pushed my ill-fitting glasses back into position, which I had to do every thirty seconds. I rolled my eyes and glanced over to Shane, who was sitting at a table with Kurt and Allé. He happened to glance my way and playfully waved his fingers as I glared at him. He looked so smug and happy about his handy work, which I found adorable and annoying...mostly annoying.

With all honesty, I didn't mind the situation. I didn't love my outfit, but I'd enjoyed the constant joy on Shane's face. So much so, I was starting to actually enjoy the outfit.

I think the conversation, along with everything Shane had shared, finally had time to sink in because the anger and contemptment I'd felt toward him was almost completely gone. Instead, I found myself missing him while craving his laugh and his happiness.

"That's...nice," the sarcasm rolled off my tongue like molasses as I walked away from their teasing.

I heard them pleading for me to go back, but I flipped the bird over my shoulder as I sauntered away. By the sound of the laughter in my wake, I doubted my confident departure had overshadowed the hilarity of my costume.

I found an empty barstool and cursed under my breath that I had to pull up my sagging grandpa shorts before taking a seat. They were several sizes too big and the belt didn't help all that much. The bartender had to do a double take and did a terrible job of hiding his laughter once he'd finished looking at me up and down. Of course, it was at that moment my stupid glasses decided to slip down my nose, again, which forced me to push them back up, again. The barkeep stifled his laugh as best he could, but in the end, he offered me my drink for free—perks of being on the receiving end of pity, I suppose.

I was halfway through my drink when a cute blonde approached me. I'd seen him around the club scene before and we'd flirted a few times but that was it. I believed his name was Jax or Max? He stood so close he brushed against my body as he casually leaned against the bar and winked.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself," I lifted my drink to my lips and let my tongue flirtatiously play with the straw.

"This isn't exactly a look I would've pegged you for, but damn if you don't pull it off."

For a moment, I completely forgot I looked like someone who'd spent their entire life inside a dusty library with a collection of vintage shadow boxes filled with neat rows of dead bugs. I pulled the glasses off and looked at them before laughing.

"Actually—"

Before I had a chance to explain the situation and the reason for my fashion faux pas, strong fingers squeezed my shoulders.

"You better put your glasses back on. The last time you took them off, you had a serve pout of vertigo and puked all over the floor. We don't want that to happen again, do we?"

Shane picked up my glasses from the bar and slid them back onto my face. If that wasn't enough, he pressed the bridge of the glasses with his finger until they were firmly against my face. When I didn't fight him, he patted my shoulder as a reward for compliance. Bastard.

"I'm Shane," he stuck his hand out to the man.

"Dax."

Ah, yes, Dax. The name flooded back, but a little too late as I assumed I'd probably never share another conversation with him after this little episode unfolded.

"Nice to meet you. Careful with this one," Shane slightly shook my shoulders. "He's a special one."

I didn't know for sure, but I had the feeling that being "special" wasn't a good thing and I was almost positive Shane had winked at the guy before he walked away. Dax was staring at me while trying to place something. Finally, his eyes lit up with recognition, he shook his finger at me, and smiled.

"I know why you seem familiar!"

I held back the urge to look annoyed. 'Yeah, because we've flirted half a dozen times, you idiot!' I thought to myself.

"A while back, you were here with him," he pointed at Shane.

I furrowed my brows as I tried to recall what he was talking about, then it hit me—he was talking about the first time we'd ever gone out with DAKS. The first time I was with Shane.

"Not exactly. I was here with a group of friends that included him, but I wasn't with him."

I thought to myself, 'Until later that night.'

He waved me off, "That's beside the point. I remember you looked really good that night. I was talking to my buddies about you when your friend interrupted our conversation. He told us all about how you were transitioning from Georgia to Gordy."

My mouth dropped open as my brain tried to understand his words. Georgia...huh...what? Transitioning?

"I have to say, you've done a great job. I'm glad he said something, though. If he hadn't, I never would've known until—" he looked at me, knowingly. "He also handed one of my buddies a condom and told him to use it. He said you were on day one of antibiotics for an STD, maybe the clap or something? I don't remember," he shrugged and gave me a sympathetic smile. "Anyhow, if you're interested, I'd like to take you shopping. We could pick out some new outfits for you that'll turn heads. No offense, but what you have going on tonight doesn't do you justice and, if the way you looked in the club the last time is any indication, you have serious potential."

My mind continued to reel from the new information. I didn't know if I wanted to laugh at the image of Shane wandering around the bar and spreading the most ridiculous lies about me or be mad at him for sabotaging my night out. Both, but first, I was going to find a way to make him pay.

"Well?" Dax looked at me as he waited for my response.

"Do you want to go shopping sometime? Maybe celebrate your transition with some killer new clothes? You look amazing, but it hurts to see you not reaching your potential."

"Um..."

He grabbed a napkin and asked the barkeep for a pen.

"Why don't we do this? I'm going to give you my number. If you want to take me up on a shopping trip, then text me. If not, no sweat," he scribbled his information down then held it out to me. Though not completely sure of what had just happened, I plucked the napkin from his fingers and looked at it.

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