White Black

I smirked at him. "Love cures all, huh?"

He grinned. "Absolutely."

"So tell me about your night."

"Not much to tell. I just got off work, and Mike dropped me off here."

"Mike?" I arched my eyebrow teasingly.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Just a regular at the bar. There's no food at my place, and Mike comes by this way, so he offered to drop me off."

"Don't you have a car?"

He shook his head.

"How do you get around without a car? How did you get home from my place?"

"I get rides from friends, take public transportation, or call a cab. I called a cab from your place."

"That's gotta suck."

He shrugged. "I'm used to it. It's been six years since I had my own car."

I let out a low whistle. "Jesus. Why so long?"

"I totaled the last one. Just never replaced it."

"Well, I'll be happy to give you a lift. Unless you'd like to come over to my place and have a beer or something first."

He smiled. "I'd appreciate the ride. Thanks for the offer of the beer, but I don't drink."

It took me a minute to connect the dots. "You don't drink, you don't drive, and you don't have casual sex... Are you in recovery?"

"I do drive. I just don't have my own car."

I squinted at him. "You know what I mean."

His smile let me know that he was just messing with my head. "Yes. And yes."

"Yes, you're in recovery?"

He nodded.

I gaped at him. "And you work in a bar?"

"Alcohol was never my problem."

"What was?" The words left my mouth before I realized how intrusive the question was. "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that. I know it's none of my business. You can just tell me to fuck off."

He chuckled. "It's fine. Coke."

"Cocaine? Wow. Expensive vice."

He barked out a laugh. "No shit."

"So what happened?"

He downed the last of his cup of coffee and signaled the waitress for more before he told me his story. "Six years ago, I was a TFB with a powdered nose and a silver spoon up my ass."

"TFB?"

"Trust fund baby. I was home from college on a break when I came out to my family. There was a huge fight, and I stormed out, got wasted, and headed back to the campus. I was fucked up, emotionally and chemically. It was a twenty-hour drive. I drove straight through, coked out of my mind. At the end of it, I crashed my car into a dormitory building. Luckily, it was empty. It was a break between semesters, and the building had been cleared out while it was being renovated. No one got hurt."

"Damn. Did you get arrested?"

He shook his head. "I got expelled from school and sent to rehab. My parents paid for the damages and to keep the story quiet. When I got out of rehab, they told me to get my shit together or not to come home. I haven't been back since."

"That all happened six years ago? How old are you, Chad?"

"Twenty-eight."

"Damn. I thought you were closer to my age. You don't look that much older than me."

He smiled at the compliment. "Thanks."

"How long have you been sober?"

"Six years, come Christmas. I haven't been fucked up since that night. I couldn't have lived with myself if I had killed someone."

"If you've been clean this whole time, why haven't you gone home to your family?"

He grimaced. "Because, no matter how sober I am, I'm still gay. I'm never going to be straight. I'm never going to live up to their expectations of me."

"That's rough. I'm sorry." I didn't know how else to respond to that. I'd never come out to my parents, but it wasn't because I had the slightest concern that they'd disown me. My parents were extremely open-minded and accepting people, and I was fairly certain that my mother was about as straight as I was. It was simply because it was none of their business whose bed I was gracing from one moment to the next. I guess I felt less of a need to announce my sexuality since it was a fluid thing. I was equally as unlikely to have a boyfriend as I was to have a girlfriend. Thankfully, I was saved from having to come up with some disingenuous platitude because the waitress chose that moment to deliver our meals.

While we ate, we switched to more mundane topics; my job, his job, our lives in general. It was the first time that we'd spent any time really talking, and I found that I liked him as a person as much as I lusted over him as a man. After we'd finished eating, I took him to his apartment. He lived in a gated community that was really nice. It wasn't million dollar condos or anything, but it severely outclassed my place. The entire complex was all decked out in holiday cheer. There were lights strung over the entire property, and oversized, outdoor ornaments hung in the trees. It appeared to be professionally done and wasn't the slightest bit gaudy or tacky. I had assumed that being ostracized from his family also meant from his family's money, but I was either wrong about that, or he made far more as a bartender than I believed.

I pulled into the parking space he'd indicated. "This is nice."

"Thanks." He turned to face me. "I'd invite you in, but I'm kinda beat."

I grinned at the blatant lie. "It's okay. Maybe next time."

"So... Wyn..." The pregnant pause drew out for several seconds.

I was amused at his obvious discomfiture. "You really need to stop worrying about offending me. Just spit it out, Chad."

He winced. "Okay. Here's the thing. That's not my name."

"Chad?" My voice spiked in surprise.

"Yeah. It's Tad. With a T. Short for Theodore."

"Holy shit!" I laughed. "I've been calling you Chad for a year!"

He chuckled. "I know."

"Why didn't you ever correct me?"

He shrugged. "I was just your bartender. It didn't matter."

"And you're more now?"

"I'd like to think we're friends."

That made me inordinately happy. "I'd like that."

He smiled back at me. "Me too."

There was a brief lull where I had the overwhelming desire to kiss him. I fought it. "I thought Ted was short for Theodore."

"It is. I'm a junior. My dad is Ted, and I'm Tad."

"Why not Theo?"

"My sister had a lisp when we were kids and couldn't say Theo. She started calling me Tad. It just stuck."

He hadn't mentioned a sister before. "Older or younger?"

"Younger." He shot me a sly smirk. "By about ten minutes. We're twins."

"That's cool. I was an only child." To be completely honest, I was wondering what his sister looked like. If she was anything near as hot as he was, I was definitely interested.

I must have been broadcasting my thoughts because the next words out of his mouth were: "Okay. You can just stop that. She's married."

I felt my face heat in embarrassment, and he laughed at me. "I'm going to go in now. Thanks for the ride. I had a good time."

"Me too. Goodnight, Tad."

**

For the next two weeks, I spent nearly every night hanging out with Tad at the bar. He was off on Sunday and Monday nights, and he didn't have time to talk to me on weekends, so I spent those nights playing pool. When he was working, and the bar wasn't crowded, we spent the time just chatting. We were polar opposites in just about everything, from our childhoods, family lives, and experiences, all the way down to our outlooks on life. He was the light to my dark, the white to my black, we just seemed to fit together. Tad and I clicked in a way I never had with anyone else, but I never could get him to go to bed with me, and after two weeks of trying, I was done. I resigned myself to just being friends. I wasn't mad about it, he had quickly become one of the best friends that I'd ever had, but I admit to a great deal of disappointment.

However, two weeks of trying to get into Tad's pants, and failing, left me achy and needy. So on Thursday night, instead of going to the bar Tad worked at, I went back to the dance club, hoping like hell that I didn't run into the guy that I had gone home with the last time I was there. I dressed carefully, in a shirt that was way too small for me, showing off all the dips and curves of my chest, arms, and stomach, and a pair of low rise pants that put my ass on display. They were pants, not jeans. The material was smooth but not shiny. I wanted my ass to look inviting but not feminine. Sometimes there's a fine line between advertising as a bottom versus a bitch. I wanted to be fucked, but I didn't get off on being told what to do.

I checked myself out in the mirror one last time before I left. The burgundy of the shirt made my green eyes pop, my shaggy, black hair framed my clean-shaven face well, and the snugness of the pants drew attention to my otherwise unencumbered package. I turned my ass toward the mirror and looked back over my shoulder. Drawing my fingers up the seam of my seat, I could almost feel the heat of my hand through the thin material. The pressure of my fingers against my hole made my body shudder. I needed it bad. I gathered my stuff, slipping some important items in my front pocket, and headed out to 20/20.

Fuck. I'd had a few drinks, but I was intoxicated on something else entirely. I had my shirt off, tucked through a belt loop of my pants, and the scent, sight, and feeling of all those slicked up, hard bodies rubbing against my smooth, naked torso was making me lightheaded and dizzy. The dance floor was crowded, and the song was fast, too fast. The piece wasn't anything I recognized, and it wasn't giving me what I wanted, which was bodies pressed against me, grinding into me, pushing me into a sexual frenzy. I had been there too long and hadn't let anyone have me yet. I needed a slower song. I had just about decided that the next brave top with the balls to proposition me was going to get his wish when I felt someone step in behind me and grind his cock into my ass.

He felt big and hot against the crack of my butt, which was promising. He was moving slowly, totally incongruous with the rapid beat of the music, but I didn't care. It felt fucking phenomenal. He slipped one hand around my waist and flattened his palm out on my stomach, pulling me into his body and effectively slowing down my movement. Grinding back into him, I could feel the heat of his breath as he moaned softly into my ear. I raised my arms over my head and draped them over the back of his neck. He slid his other hand around my chest while the hand on my stomach glided down my sweat-soaked abs, his fingertips stopping just inside the waistband on my pants. I could feel the teasing pressure just resting on my pubic bone, turning me on like nothing ever had before. I wondered if I could get his hand to go lower. Right there, standing in the midst of a ton of other guys, I wanted him to jack my cock.

His other hand came up, caressed the side of my jaw, then skimmed down across my throat, while his lips brushed the juncture of my neck and shoulder. He kissed my neck and then glided his tongue up to my ear. His voice was a lusty rumble. "You are so fucking sexy, Wyn. Do you want to get out of here?"

At the sound of my name, I jerked away and whipped around to find myself staring into the heat-filled gaze of Tad. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. Come home with me, Wyn." He closed the distance that I had created between us, slipped a hand behind my head, and took possession of my mouth in a mind-numbing kiss.

I moaned into his mouth and looped my arms around his neck. Fuck, yes. This was what I wanted. This was who I wanted.

He broke the kiss way too soon for me. "Let's get out of here before I take you right here on this dance floor."

"Hell yes!"

We made it to my car after paying my tab and collecting our jackets. "Give me your keys."

"I'm not drunk, Tad."

"You're not sober either. It's snowing, and I want to make it home in one piece. I don't want to die before hearing you scream my name in ecstasy."

How could I argue with that? I handed over my keys. "You've heard it before."

He laughed as he slid behind the wheel of the car. "No. Last time, you yelled Chad."

My face heated in embarrassment, and I said nothing as I climbed into the passenger side.

Wrapped in the seductive sound of Jim Morrison's voice, I silently stared out the passenger window as the first snowfall of the season blanketed the city around us. My mind was churning in turmoil. Why was he doing this? What had made him change his mind? Were we going to destroy our friendship? I should have been asking him those things, but I wanted him so badly that I was afraid to voice my concerns. I didn't want him to change his mind again. But the longer the drive went on, the more guilt I felt. Had I somehow forced him into this decision? I knew how he felt about casual sex. I didn't want to lose his friendship. Was I letting the little head do the thinking for the big head?

I got no more than a fleeting impression that his place was decorated to the nines for the holiday before he was on me, kissing me senseless. He obviously hadn't been thinking about the same things I had on the drive. He tugged, nudged, and prodded me in the direction he wanted me to go, all the while, never letting me up for air. A loud thunk sounded as the chains on my jacket crashed into his hardwood floor. I was being urged backwards at the time, and my feet got tangled up in the pile of leather and steel. I stumbled, and Tad's long, graceful fingers dug into the backs of my arms to steady me. Kicking aside my jacket, he guided me backwards a little further. He reached down and yanked the shirt out of my belt loop before he rested his palm on the center of my chest and shoved.

I fell backwards onto his bed, landing with an, "Oof."

He pulled my boots and socks off before climbing on top of me and kissing and nipping his way up my exposed stomach and chest. Damn, he was fucking aggressive. I had never envisioned him like that, and it was hot as hell. He had me rock hard and leaking in my pants. But still, there was that nagging guilt.

I groaned. "Tad?"

"Hmm?" He continued to kiss and nip at my chest.

"Are you sure about this?" I was dreading the thought that I was going to make him stop.

His lips left my skin, and he looked up into my eyes. His pupils were completely blown, and I could imagine he was seeing the same desire reflecting back at him from my face. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Wyn. I want you. But if you want me to stop, just say the word."

"Fuck, no, I don't want to stop. But I don't want to hurt you or ruin our friendship either. You're important to me."

The expression on his face softened into one of compassion. "I'll keep that in mind."

He took my lips in another of his fiery kisses, completely dominating me, and, damn, the man could kiss! The play of his tongue in my mouth was melting me into a puddle of goo, but when he started grinding his bulge against mine, it took everything in me to not come, then and there.

I gasped, stealing the air from his mouth, and reluctantly broke away. "Oh fuck. Stop. I'm going to..."

He nodded, sat back on his knees between my legs, and unfastened the fly of my pants. Folding his fingers over the edge of my waistband, he slid them down my legs as he slowly crawled backwards off the bed. After dropping them on the floor with the rest of my discarded clothing, Tad stood at the side of the bed, staring at me.

His normally silken voice was rougher than I had dreamed it could get. "You are so fucking sexy."

"Yeah?" I propped myself up on my elbows behind me and crab crawled backwards toward the head of the bed. "Come get me then. I'm all yours."

Letting his coat slip off his shoulders, he reached for the buttons on his shirtfront while his eyes constantly scanned my naked and aroused form. I decided to put on a show for him. Taking a firm grip on my cock, I bent my knees and spread my legs, completely exposing myself to his perusal, while I stroked myself.

"Fucking gorgeous."

Reaching under my sac, I rubbed small circles around my entrance. "Do you want this, Tad?"

His body shuddered and his voice got impossibly thicker with desire. "Are you going to finish without me?"

Fighting back the urge to do just that, I shook my head. "Not if you hurry."

I watched while his body was slowly revealed to me. He was bigger than I expected, in all aspects. He was trim but defined, he obviously worked out. He wasn't built up, but his tight skin stretched over lean and sinewy muscles. His body wasn't hairless like mine, he had a light dusting of dark blond hair over his chest, arms, and legs, and a nice, thick happy trail leading to a full, curly bush. My breath caught in my throat when he finally pushed his jeans to the floor and stood up to let me look at him. I'd never seen his cock before. The time in the bathroom, he'd never let me see or touch him. I was surprised and a little intimidated. He was only a little bit taller than me, so I had expected his dick to be about the same size as mine. I was wrong. He was hung. He had to be at least eight inches, probably closer to nine, but it wasn't the length that I was worried about. He was thick. He probably didn't have the most that I'd ever taken, but I had no doubts that I was going to be walking funny the next day.

"Fuck, Tad. You've got a big dick."

He smirked and stroked the tool in question as he teased me. "Scared?"

"No. Just promise me that, no matter how much I whine and plead otherwise, you'll take it easy on me. Okay?"

He gave me a slow, seductive smile. "Deal. What do you want, Wyn?" He dropped his cock, climbed on the bed between my legs, rested on his elbows on either side of my chest, and kissed me gently.

"I want you to fuck me with that huge cock until I pass out from pleasure."

He grinned wickedly. "I'll endeavor to do my best."

Taking my mouth in another gentle kiss, he coaxed my tongue into his mouth, then closed his teeth around my barbell. He lightly tugged on the metal ball twice before he released it. "You've been teasing me with this thing for months."

Hell yes. This was something I excelled at. "Maybe it's time you let me show you what I can do."

A low moan rumbled through his chest, and he rolled off me onto his back. "Show me."

A fresh spike of desire heated my blood past the boiling point, and I didn't hesitate to climb on top of him. He lay passive while I licked, kissed, and nibbled my way down his neck, throat, and chest. The sharp intake of breath when I laved his nipple told me that he was sensitive there. Gripping the pillow under his head, he panted and writhed while I worked over his nipples.

When I moved my mouth back to the center of his chest and started working my way down his stomach, he lightly placed his hands on either side of my head and raised his head to watch me. Keeping my eyes locked on his baby-blues, I drew my tongue up his length from root to tip in one broad swipe. His stomach muscles rolled under his skin, and I glanced over his body.

His cock stretched up his flat belly. There were distinct grooves delineating his Adonis plate, highlighting his six-pack, and defining his pecs. I could clearly make out the separation between the muscles of his biceps and triceps, and the veins were prominent in his forearms. His entire body was tense, betraying his arousal and anticipation.

My voice was barely a whisper. "So pretty."

His breathy chuckle sounded like a series of huffs. "Me?"

"Yes."

"I'm not pretty."

His body shuddered again when I passed my tongue up his shaft again. "You are."

"You're the pretty one. I'm..."

I effectively ended the argument by sucking his cockhead into my mouth. He seemed to lose command of basic English, and most of his gross motor functions, while I went about showing him what a small piece of metal in the right mouth could do. I would have loved to have rimmed him too. I loved it, both giving and receiving, and I hadn't done it in a very long time. Even though I had the opportunity to bury my tongue in his ass, I didn't. It was just one of the plethora of ways in which we had discovered that we were yin and yang; he was strictly a top and didn't enjoy ass play for himself. This was about him, and I wanted to make him feel good.