The Guy He Once Was : Part 1

DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction, and all of the characters in the series are fictional. If you are under the appropriate age to read this story, please do not read any further.

Silence is more mind boggling than being in the middle of a thunderous argument. As I attempt to think back to one of my earliest memories of him, my brain goes silent on me. I am stuck in a place where windows don't exist. There is no sign of light anywhere. I feel trapped, I feel imprisoned. I feel myself screaming, but I cannot hear anything but the deadly thing known as 'silence.'

I was a guy who at one time had it all; a career, a home, a lover and friends... now I have nothing.

[1 year ago]

I stayed up late the night before the big announcement. I am a nighthawk anyway, but anytime something big is about to happen my anxiety prevents me from going anywhere near my bed. I paced around my room flipping through magazines, checking my text messages and pulling my hair.

"What the fuck is she going to tell me," I asked myself over and over again.

A few weeks ago my best friend told me that something big was about to happen in her life. She told me that she could not tell me the news, until she was one hundred percent certain it was going to happen. I hate when people half tell me something.

"Aaron please just listen to me. I know you don't like it when I hold back information, but I don't want to jinx it."

What doesn't she want to jinx? What is she talking about?

"Andrea you always pull this type of shit on me. Just tell me what the heck is going on?"

"I can't. Not yet, please don't hate me. I just can't."

When she said that, she looked around nervously and started to pull on her dress. Anytime she acts all nervous on me, it freaks me out. It makes me worry, and I detest worrying. I save all the worrying for the girls on Lifetime TV, as their husbands leave them for some ugly office assistant.

"If you're not going to tell me now, I am just going to get up and leave."

I quickly gathered all of my things, and stormed out of her living room.

"Aaron, wait" she said with remorse in her voice.

"No, I am not waiting around like some little child. When you decide to tell me what's going on, then call me."

I regret saying those words to this day, because it took her 2 fucking weeks to finally call me. When she did call she still didn't tell me what she had to say, she just told me that tomorrow was the day.

Since my anxiety prevented me from sleeping, and I had nothing else to do I decided to go out. It was a Thursday night, and I knew that the local club here in Boston was going to be popping.

I am 5 foot 11 inches tall. I have a swimmers build and I don't even do any type of swimming. I say I have a swimmers build, because I hate being referred to as a twink. A twink sounds so sleazy, so used, so yuck. Twinks remind me of those boys in that gay themed movie that Jonathan Taylor Thomas starred in. Those are twinks. Me, I am more than those boys that get lost in a crowd of horny homosexuals. I am a boy of substance, a boy of flavor, a boy of... oh shit, I lost my track.

Anyway, I have deep brown eyes, that men call 'pretty' and I have skin the color of tropical sand. The rest of my body... well, let's just say that my front nor my back disappoints the crowd.

I usually play hard to get at the clubs, because I do not want to just go home and fuck Boston's 'it boy.' I want the 'it boy' to be mine, and live with me happily ever after. I am starting to think that those straight fairy tales that I engross myself in on Sunday nights are starting to taint my homosexual mind. Us gay men don't really have a fairy tale. The fairies in our group just wag their tails on the dance floor, and fuck their brains out before day light makes it's promising debut.

I put on one of my more revealing outfits that night. I wanted my 501s and my blazer to show me off. I didn't really want to be the one talking myself up that night. I didn't bother calling any of my stud lovers, which was a first for me. I never like going out by myself, but something in me made me want to just go out and do my own thing. Before leaving, I made sure to put my ringer on high so that if Andrea called, I'd be able to answer it. She never did call that night, but I like being that type of friend anyway.

"Damn I should've put on something a bit more weather appropriate," I said to myself as I made the walk to the subway station.

It was officially fall in Massachusetts. The sluts that usually parade around in summer's tiniest skirts were no where to be found. Here I am talking about sluts, and I look like Boston's biggest slut. "Club Plow" was where I was headed to that evening. I hate the name of that club, because it puts us gays in such a low class level... but hey, if you want to be plowed and ManSlut.net isn't doing it for you, you go to "Club Plow."

"Shit, I forgot my iPod," I said outloud forgetting that I was on a subway with mothers, homeless men and wild children.

I whispered sorry to the mother of two that was sitting next to me. She looked me up and down, and then shook her head with disapproval and disgust.

"Well fuck you," I said under my breath as I gazed out the clouded up window.

The subway ride was longer than it needed to be. I only live 10 minutes away from the studs that were potentially going to plow me, and this ride was taking longer than eternity.

"Mommy, why is that man dressed like that," the little twat that was running around and screaming in peoples faces asked her mother.

"Oh wait a minute, I know this girl ain't talking about me," I said to myself while gripping the gum covered seat.

"Be quiet! That's rude," said the mother of two as she looked at me again with another disgusted look.

"What is this rude ass..." my thought was rudely interrupted by the loud speaker that said, "Massachusetts Avenue exit to the right."

"Thank god, it's time to get my stud search on," I said to myself as I got up and stared at the nasty family.

As I was exiting the subway, I saw my two friends Mike and Daniel get off the D train. They were probably on their way to the club too, and if I tried to run from them they'd see me and embarrass me in front of these so called 'Bostonians.'

"Mike, Dan," I shouted as they turned around with a puzzled look.

Mike is a 35 year old Dental Assistant, who still wears Abercrombie & Fitch to fit in with the young twink crowd. Dan, a law student, is a 28 year old muscled body type that could get with any of the guys at the club. He, is my competition, he is the reason why I did not want to call my friends. As soon as he walks into the club, he gets with whoever and whatever he wants.

"Curse that sexy ass Dan," I thought as they both started running my way.

"Aaron, where the fuck have you been hiding, and what the fuck are you wearing," Mike asked me as he examined me and ordered me to turn around as he was doing so.

"I am wearing my latest outfit, it's called catch me if you can," I replied to the questioning twink wannabe.

"Oh they'll catch something alright. They'll catch you, to catch their pitch!"

"Shut up Mike. You're just a twink wannabe."

"So what! Let me be a twink... or better yet, let me find a twink to play with tonight," Mike said as he stuck his tongue out at me.

"And Hi Dan," I said to him as he was laughing at Mike and I bickering with one another.

"Hi Aaron. Long time no see! Andrea is certainly hagging our main fag," he said as we started making our way to get plowed!

I rolled my eyes, and didn't bother commenting on his remark. While it may have been true that Andrea was hogging all of my attention, she was still a good friend. A good friend who keeps me waiting to hear this so called 'big news!' I had forgotten all about her announcement to be, until tight pant wearing Dan brought her up.

"Screw him," I thought to myself.

"Great, now I am going to have to drink like a mad person in order to have a good time."

"You do that anyway you conservative wannabe," said Dan as he gave me his trademark sexy smirk.

"Shit, I said that out loud," I asked the two of them.

"You sure did, now tell us what the matter is," Dan said to me as he rubbed my tensing shoulders.

"Nothing, I don't want to talk about her. Let's just go into Plow and have a good ole time."

"Okay, if you say so! Just don't be trying to drool on my cock tonight!"

"Ugh, you wish. Tonight someone will be coming home with me, to be with me forever," I said to Dan as he gave me a sly look.

"Forever? Sex only lasts for an hour, maybe two tops!"

"You are so cynical Dan. So damn cyncial."

"Hey if being cynical gets me some hot ass, I'll be whatever I want to be," Dan replied as he started tickling me.

"ID please," the Plow bouncer ordered.

I gave him my ID, and told Mike and Dan that I'd meet them inside for a beer if I could shove my way to an available bartender.

One of the things that I hated about coming to Plow was the fact that the bartenders there only pay attention to the twinks and guys that looked like Dan. What about us 501 sporters, and swimmer builds?

I shoved my way to the bar after being stepped on by a group of passing queens.

"Ugh, they better not had scratched my new shoes," I said to myself as I tried to order a kamikaze on the rocks.

I stuck my hand out over and over again, but the bartenders didn't pay me any mind at all.

"Hey, excuse me, over here," I said to them, but they ignored me once again.

"I hate this fucking club," I said to myself as I began to get visibly frustrated.

"He'll have a kamikaze on the rocks," Dan said to one of them as he gave me a knowing look.

Boy was I wrong when I thought that I'd be able to survive in here on my own. I needed my stud lovers, Dan more importantly.

"Thanks Dan," I said as I tried to dig in my pockets to get the $10 out for the drink.

"No worries, and please keep it. It's on me. You'll need the $10 when you're standing outside trying to get a cab, when you give up on the hope of ever meeting Mr. Right in here," said Dan as he gave me another one of his sarcastic sexy smirks.

"Ugh, fuck you Dan," I shouted.

"You wish baby, you wish," he said as he disappeared into the crowded sea of men.

"Ugh that damn Dan," I thought as I sipped on my drink.

I looked around for Mike, and when I spotted him 30 seconds later I saw that he had already had his arms wrapped around some barely legal looking boy. I shook my head when he looked up and smiled at me. I gave him one of those smiles that only gay men give to one another when they pick up the same types of tricks.

"Boy the club is defintely banging tonight," I said in a sarcastic tone as I began to survey the crowd.

There were guys on the dance floor nearly raping one anothers mouths with their tongues, as a Rihanna song was blared throughout the joint. Rihanna was singing about finding love in a hopeless place, and I began to wonder if that's what I was hoping for.

I looked up at the second floor of the club, and saw guys dancing with their shirts off and throwing them at admirers on the first floor. I started to feel a bit self conscious, but made my way out to the dance floor anyway.

By the time the Rihanna song was over, I began to feel a bit more relaxed and at ease with the horny atmosphere. It may sound like a short amount of time for you, but you know how the clubs are. Those remixes they play last 7, maybe 10 minutes here.

By the time the second song of the night was over, I started losing my buzz. I wanted to look around for Dan to help me get a second drink, but I knew that he was in a corner somewhere fingering someone that was hot for the moment. I started cracking up on the dance floor when these boys told me to get out of their way so that they could dance.

"Well fuck you too," I shouted at them as I shoved my way past them and made my way to the nearest bar.

I decided that if I was going to get a drink on my own, I'd have to use reinforcements. I took my blazer off, and revealed a skin tight blue tank top that had the words "can I have your d**k" written on it.

Now don't get me wrong, I am looking for love... but what's a boy to do in a place like this? I gotta have my way of being heard around here, and wearing that tank was the only way to do it.

After I checked my blazer in at the coat check, I decided it was now or never. I made my way to the bar, and was about to order another kamikaze when I saw him. He was tall, around 6 foot 3 and had the shoulders that would make even momma melt for him. His fair, yet tan skin was covered by a form fitting red t-shirt and dark Levi jeans. His ass was made of perfection, and his legs... they could chop down trees. He looked as though he was made of steel. They say that Superman was made of steel, but this guy would make Superman weep.

"One kamikaze on the rocks please," I asked the strangely kind bartender.

"Wow this is the first drink I was able to order on my own around here," I thought as I sneaked a glance at Superman.

"Oh shit," I thought. "He's looking at me. Why is he looking at me," I asked myself.

He gave me a nod when I got my drink from the friendly tenda.

"$5 please," said smiley himself.

I started digging into my pants when Superman saved the day, and told smiley that he'd be buying my drink for me.

"Oh no no. Please that's not necessary," I said to him while my cheeks began to turn crimson red.

"Don't worry, I got it. It's on me. After all, you might have more than my dick by the end of the night," said Superman as he glanced at my tank top.

I nearly spit out my drink when he said that, but I kept my cool. I had to, I hadn't gotten laid in over 5 months and I was hungry for a stud like him.

"The name's Dave," said the stud...

"Aaron," I muttered as I sipped onto my drink.

"Would you care to dance with me, Aaron?"

I gave him a puzzled look. I looked around the club, and could see so many guys that were much better looking than me, but I said yes to Superman, I mean Dave anyway.

Dave asked me to lead the way. A bit reluctant to his to his suggestion, I found myself leading us to the wild ass dance floor. My heart was beating a million times a minute, but I didn't let that stop me from having my chance with him. I started dancing nervously, and looked at everyone and anything but Dave.

"Nervous huh? Don't be nervous. Be yourself," Dave whispered in my ear as he leaned into me.

"My god he even smells good. He's perfect," I thought as I sluggishly raised my head to look into this man's eyes.

Dave's eyes are blue. The kind of blue that everyone hopes for and looks forward to seeing on a sunny day. His hair is brown, a dark brown done up like James Dean, or Jason Priestley in his 90210 days.

Dave was definitely a leader on the dance floor. His moves made all of the surrounding queens gawk, and drool at us... mainly him. I felt like someone important. For once in my life, I felt desirable and hot. Even though I knew deep in the back of my mind that the guys wanted, I felt like someone unattainable too.

By song number 7, Dave had me sweating, drooling and horny. These three things together are a bad collaboration of juices. The precum build up in my briefs was so bad, that I was glad that I was wearing dark jeans to cover up the developing frontal stain. My hole was quivering for Dave too, shit my whole body was just on fire.

"Take me right here, take me right now," I thought as I was grinding my ass into his pelvic area.

Dave was hard too, but then again everything about Dave was hard.

I forgot that I had come to the club with my stud lovers, when I looked up and saw both of them gawking right at Superman and I. I gave them a wink, a smile and a tongue. Boy were they jealous. Dan's face was priceless, and even though Mike was jealous too; he got over it when a twink winked as he walked by him.

Dave had me wrapped in him completely by the time Plow was getting ready to close. The gel in my hair was gone, my tank was drenched in sweat, and my jeans were tighter due to the sweat that the dancing had caused.

As the boys started making their way out, Dave pushed me into a corner of the club and told me that he wanted me to come home with him.

"You have me worked up, and I want you to live up to your tank top sexy."

I looked at him with blurred vision due to my drunken horny state, and told him that he'd have to earn those words on my tank top.

"Haven't I earned them already," Dave asked me as he moved my hand onto his bulging crotch.

I thought I was going to faint. This hot ass man wanted me, me... the stuck up boy from Bay Village to come home with him? I knew that if I said no I'd regret it later when I'd be in my bed jerking off alone.

"Okay, I'll come home with you if you promise to be good to me."

"I promise I'll be good. Heck, I'll be more than good."

And that's part 1. I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I look forward to hearing your thoughts, and until then stay tuned for part 2.