Go to "Folk Lore".
Brian and Justin take a short business trip to Toronto -- and meet up with two actors from Justin's favorite cable television series.
"Hey! This is some view!"
I turned away from the window to where Brian was setting up his laptop. I walked over and tried to pull him over to look at the amazing expanse of city and lakefront.
"I've seen Lake Ontario," he grumped. "I have to print this report out or I'm going to be fucked, so give me five minutes before you start all the 'romantic bullshit,' okay?"
"I just want you to look out and see it!" I explained. Then I put on a nice little pout. Brian is a sucker for the pout.
But he wasn't even looking up. His eyes were riveted to the Powerbook. "It's a fucking frozen lake. Very nice." He had plugged into the hotel internet connection and trying to bring up the client's website. "Fuck this thing!" he breathed, punching at the keyboard.
I sighed and turned away. I opened the closet and pulled out one of the fluffy white robes that was hanging in there. I could get used to this pampered treatment! I stripped off my cords and my sweater and hung them in the closet next to our heavy winter coats. Then I slipped into the white robe.
"I think I'm going to take a bath."
"Whatever," mumbled Brian. Once his head was stuck in the computer he wasn't coming out until he was finished.
That's the trouble with being a tag-along on a business trip. Business always comes first. If I was lucky, Brian would send me out to wander around the city while he was in his meeting and maybe he'd remember to fuck me before he left each morning and then again before he went to sleep at night. Not that I had a problem with that. That's why I came along. I figured that two days in Toronto with Brian, even a busy Brian, was better than two days sitting by myself in the loft working on a project.
Besides, I deserved a break, too! I'd never been to Toronto before and staying in a four star hotel like the Four Seasons wasn't too shabby, plus I'd get a couple of good meals out of it. I heard there were some amazing restaurants in Chinatown. And that there were some interesting bars and clubs here, too. In fact, I'd been looking up a lot of info on the gay scene in Toronto and it was hopping. At least according to 'Fodor's Gay Guide.' I was itching to get over to Church Street and check out what was happening there. From the description, it made Liberty Avenue seem strictly small town.
I filled the tub with water and took some bath oil that was in a little complimentary basket on the shelf. There were all sorts of scented shampoos and lotions and powder -- and I had to open them all up and check them out, of course. The bath oil smelled like sandalwood and I poured in plenty of it. When the water was really steamy I took off the robe, dropped my shorts and tee shirt on the bathmat and oozed myself into the tub. It was something like -4 outside -- in American degrees, that is. It sounded even colder in Canadian degrees, -20. On whatever scale it was enough to solidify your nuts, so the hot water was doing a great job of thawing me out completely.
"Are you in that fucking tub?"
I looked up and Brian was standing in the doorway of the bathroom.
"Duh!" I splashed some water at him.
"I thought we were going out to dinner?" He was checking himself in the large mirror. Brian's at that age where he's constantly checking himself out. I think that he's afraid a wrinkle or something will pop out and he won't notice it until it's too late to attack it with his French anti-ageing cream.
"I'm just soaking," I said. It was only 5:00. Brian would never eat this early, especially not in a city like Toronto.
"Maybe I wanted to get a shower?" he griped.
"Hop into the tub. There's lots of room."
Brian curled his lip. "And wallow around in your dirty water? No thanks?"
"I'll make it worth your while," I promised.
"Maybe another time," he said, stalking out.
Brian was so fucking on edge lately. I was hoping that this trip would give him an opportunity to blow off some steam. He's working too hard -- as usual. But he's not letting himself go very much anymore. I think he feels like I'll get pissed at him if he goes out without me, or if he tricks, or if he gets drunk or high too often. Believe me, those aren't my favorite things for Brian to do, but I know him better than anyone and Brian cannot live by work, sleep, and a quick fuck in the loft shower alone. He needs to stretch his wings occasionally. Jesus, even I need to do that -- occasionally. And if we do it together -- all the better.
Which was why I was hoping that this business trip would be the equivalent of a 'dirty weekend.' Here we were in a city where no one knew us, staying in a fancy hotel, Brian had a big expense account, so the sky was the limit on eating and drinking in the best places -- the possibilities were endless!
That is, if I could get Brian away from the fucking laptop and get his mind off his meetings.
But it became apparent that we weren't going to get anything on the ball that first night. I dried off and got dressed and then we went to dinner. Brian got the name of a fabulous Chinese restaurant on Spadina Avenue and we took a taxi there and ate like a pair of condemned prisoners scarfing down our last meal.
I was hoping that we'd follow up dinner with a couple hours cruising the bars, but no such luck. It was right back to the hotel and Brian's ass attached to a chair in front of his laptop. I ended up watching movies on the cable until I fell asleep. I barely even woke up when Brian finally got into bed and flipped me over for a perfunctory fuck. I was asleep again almost before Brian pulled his dick out of my ass. Jesus -- we both really did need a shot in the arm. Or a kick in the balls.
The next morning Brian got up early, ordered juice and cornflakes from room service, and took off before I'd even managed to get out of bed.
"I can't meet you for lunch because I need to go out with the client, but I should be back at the room by 5:00. Okay?" he said as he was putting on his coat.
I yawned. "I think I can find a way to amuse myself all day. I'll just order some porn and charge it to your expense account."
"Har har," he returned. "And it's fucking freezing outside, so don't forget your scarf!"
"Thanks, Mom." I rolled my eyes -- and then rolled over and went back to sleep.
I finally got up, dressed, and went down to have breakfast around 10:00. I took my 'Gay Guide' and paged through it while I ate, scanning possible places to try out that night. Assuming, of course, that my resident party pooper would be up for it. I was getting a little sick of Brian's total focus on his work. Yeah, I understood his issues about work ever since his recent 'hiatus.' And I've also come to understand how much his image of himself -- and a lot of his self-confidence -- are reflected by his success at his job. This was a business trip, after all. I knew that. But business doesn't have to go 24/7. Especially not when you're in hot town like Toronto!
It was bone-chillingly cold out, so I took a cab from the Four Seasons over to my primary destination -- Church Street. I didn't want to look like a total tourist, so I slipped my guidebook into my bookbag and just walked up and down the street, checking out all the businesses displaying Rainbow Flags and other queer-friendly devices.
I stopped in a bookstore and bought a copy of the latest 'Friction' anthology -- a little bit of light porn reading never hurts! -- and some postcards with hot guys to send to Emmett and Daphne. Then I stopped and looked in the window of a sex shop. Lots of gigantic dildos in glow-in-the-dark colors were on display. Also some interesting edible underwear.
The other thing I noticed was that even in this freezing weather there were plenty of guys out cruising on Church Street. I was bundled up like a mummy, with my scarf wrapped around my face about three times, but that didn't stop guys from taking a look. I looked back -- a little. Hey, it's hard to make eye-contact when your eyes are barely visible! Besides, I wasn't seriously cruising for tricks -- I was just sort of scouting things out for later when I had Brian with me. I'm not really that big on fucking strange guys. I never have been. But when I'm with Brian and if we are BOTH in the mood, then it can be okay. And on a trip like this, when you're far away from home and never have to see the guy again -- well, it could be hot.
It could also be just the thing to get Brian's head out of that fucking computer for five minutes and the spark back in his dick. Not that I can't do that all by myself, because I can. I definitely can. But I admit that a little bit of spice helps the relationship along -- in one of those non-defined, non-conventional ways. Now I wouldn't want for us to go back and make a habit of it, and I don't think Brian would either. That didn't turn out so well last time. In fact, it was a fucking disaster. But back then neither of us really knew what the fuck we wanted from each other. Now we do. And that makes a big difference.
I stopped at a little coffeehouse to get something warm to drink. Two guys sat down nearby and I heard them talking about filming going on around the corner. My ears perked up. A lot of movies film in Toronto. It's a favorite place to stand-in for New York because it's a lot cheaper to make movies up here. I wanted to watch something like that. Maybe see a movie star. If only it wasn't so damn cold!
I finished up my latte and went out on the street. I glanced around and then walked down Church Street, looking for anything that seemed like a film crew. They weren't that hard to find. Some traffic was being detoured away from a side street and there were some big trucks parked and people milling around, so I headed in that direction.
A group of onlookers, mainly women, were gathered on the sidewalk and I sidled up to them, listening.
"I think they're going to do another take."
"It's soooo cold!"
"I'm going to try to get his autograph."
"Me, too! He is the cutest, ever!"
As I listened I realized what the women were talking about. Oh my God! They were filming an episode of my favorite show! THE queer show! Forget 'Will and Grace' or 'Gay as Blazes'! They were for shit! THIS was the real deal. I started to get excited and I was kicking myself because I didn't have my camera with me!
I tried to move a little closer to the action, but they were keeping the crowd well away from where they were filming. I pulled my scarf away from my face and craned my neck to get a better look. One of the crew people who was standing about 10 feet away turned and saw me and did a slight double-take. I smiled. I do look a little like that one actor who plays the college student. I'm better looking, of course, and have a much better ass, but there IS a resemblance. Maybe they'd hire me as a stand-in? That would be intense! Brian would totally freak!
Just then the door of the building opened and that same blond actor came out, followed by another actor who I didn't recognize. Must be a new character or something. I looked at the first actor with interest. His hair was darker than mine and much shorter. He was bundled up in a duffle coat and college scarf. He and the other actor said some lines and then went back and did it again. And then again. He turned around, facing away. I was right -- my ass is better. Much better!
The actors looked really cold. Between shots the blond put on a knit hat and gloves to keep warm. Then they did some more lines on the sidewalk and repeated that scene a couple of times, too. It was interesting, but I could see how it wasn't very glamorous, especially in Toronto in the middle of the winter. It made me glad that I didn't have to run around in the middle of the night in the freezing cold anymore to get my art seen -- or to make a political statement! I was glad that I had a nice warm -- well, warm most of the time! -- loft to work in.
After they finished they went back inside the building. I waited with the women for a while to see if they'd come out again, but we only saw the crew moving around. Finally, the cold was getting to me. I couldn't feel my fucking feet anymore, so I figured it was time to get back to the Four Seasons. I could feel the hot water in that big bathtub calling to me: "Justin! Come and get warm!"
So I walked up to the main drag and caught a cab back to the hotel.
Brian came back from his marathon session with the client at around 4:30 in a buoyant mood. I knew things had gone well the second I saw his face. He was smiling that wide, goofy, close-mouthed smile and he was humming to himself as he walked through the door of the suite.
"Thank God!" I clicked off the television. "I was afraid that old crab who left here this morning would come back here this afternoon!"
"Old crab, huh?" said Brian. But he was still smiling.
"Yeah, crabby. That guy who hardly even remembered I was here until his dick stumbled over me in the bed last night."
"Oh, was that you? I thought it was one of those rubber sex dolls that straight guys buy when they can't get laid." Brian hung up his cashmere coat and his suit jacket and then walked over to the desk.
I snorted. "I admit that I wasn't exactly bouncing off the walls last night, Brian, but neither were you."
Brian set his laptop on the desk and opened it up. "I had my mind on other things. Like doing my fucking job."
My heart began to sink as I watched him fire up his computer. "Does that mean... that you have to work again tonight?"
He looked up. Then he grinned. "Nope. The deal is closed. Nothing more I can do until I get home. I'm just sending some instructions back to the office."
I jumped up and went over to Brian. "Does that mean we can go out tonight? Or do you I have to go cruising all by myself?"
"That what you were planning to do?" He raised one eyebrow.
"Not really," I conceded.
"Good. Because I've already made plans. For BOTH of us. So put on something hot." Brian leaned against me. "And I mean really hot!"
"Now you're talking!" I wrapped my arms around Brian's neck and pulled him over to the sofa. "But first... a little warm up for the evening's festivities."
"Hm. My dick could use some warming up. Look how stiff it's gotten. Must be the cold climate."
"I have something nice and warm right here, Brian. It should fit your dick perfectly. Let's try it on for size," I suggested, dropping my pants.
"I knew there was a reason I brought you along on this trip...." We tumbled onto the sofa. "I'm glad you reminded me what that reason was."
"I'm glad, too," I said, reaching for the tube on the coffee table.
"I think this is just the beginning of a very interesting evening," Brian added as he watched me lubing up my ass.
Yes, I thought. Let's make it very, very interesting.
Dinner was great, but I have to confess that my mind wasn't on the food all that much. Really. I'm not kidding. That doesn't mean I didn't eat like a horse, because I did. But I was mainly thinking of all those clubs. Picturing what they were like. What kind of music. What kind of guys. I was itching to get inside one and let loose a little. More than a little.
And, of course, Brian was being contrary. He was lingering over his food, and then he ordered an after-dinner drink and sat there, sipping it.
I knew what he was doing. He was making me wait. Torturing me. And he was fucking enjoying it. Enjoying the anticipation. Like tying you up and then having you imagine what he's planning to do to you. And then not doing it. Until....
"I think I'm ready to go," he said, finally. He had an evil smirk on his face. He called for the check.
Of course, Brian directed the cab to the biggest, loudest club in town. It was just after 10:00 -- that's how long we'd spent at dinner -- so it was early, but the place was already filled. The club reminded me of Babylon, except bigger and more expansive. And the guys seemed more varied than in the Pitts. A lot more hot Asian and dark-skinned guys, but also pale redheads -- lots of Scots and Irish in Toronto -- and some very British-looking guys. And they were all dancing.
There's nothing like dancing your ass off to warm you up through the coldest winter in years. And the guys packing the club were throwing off enough body heat to warm up the entire city.
Brian checked our coats and we headed for the bar. Brian was dressed in one of his Prada suits, dove gray with a silver shimmer in it. He'd taken off the tie he wore at dinner and unbuttoned his dark cream shirt. I thought he'd be overdressed for a club, but he looked fucking classy, like a movie star or something. Heads were turning from the minute he walked in the door.
I was wearing a pair of vintage jeans that Brian got me for Christmas. I had thought, jeans? He gets me jeans? Until I put them on. They fit over my ass like a glove and were as soft as silk. I felt horny immediately! So I knew they'd be perfect for clubbing. And I was also wearing a sky blue tee shirt with a design based on one of my paintings. Daphne had it made for me, so it was one of a kind. I knew I looked hot, too, so I wasn't embarrassed to be standing next to Brian. I think we looked like a real couple.
Brian ordered a shot of Canadian whiskey and a Cosmo for me. He leaned back against the bar and scanned the place, taking in the entire scene. I could already see some guys who were checking us out, both individually and as a pair. One of them gave me a look that I knew was an invitation to dance, but I wanted to wait for Brian, so I shook my head.
"You think this place has a backroom?" I asked, putting my mouth right up to Brian's ear so he could hear me.
"Don't tell me you're up for that already!" he laughed.
"No, I'm thinking about later!"
"Who are you going in there with? Got someone in mind?" Brian set down his glass and called for another shot.
"Yeah," I said. "Tall. Dark haired. Hazel eyes. Great arms. Long legs."
"Sounds totally hot. And I mean that." Brian turned his head and gestured to the end of the bar. "I REALLY mean that."
I followed his gaze and there, resting his ass against the end of the bar, was a guy who fit that description exactly. I blinked. A guy who looked very familiar. I blinked again.
"Brian!" I said, looking up at him. "I know who that guy is!"
Brian frowned. "YOU know that guy? I guess you HAVE been fucking busy while I've been busting my ass off with this new client! Or is it that you've been busy fucking?"
"No, Brian!" I said pulling him closer to me. "That's the guy from my television show! About the queers! They film up here in Toronto. I told you at dinner that I watched them shoot a scene just off of Church Street this afternoon."
"'Gay as Blazes'? Never seen it," sniffed Brian. He's always prided himself on never watching anything on television except the commercials.
"Not 'Gay as Blazes,' you asshole! They canceled that piece of crap. The GOOD show! The one I never miss. And you have TOO seen it! You just don't want to admit that you were paying attention."
He glanced back down at the end of the bar. "Hm. Maybe I WILL start watching from now on."
I grinned. "Brian, I told you there were hot guys on that show!"
Brian's eyes were taking in the actor. "Is that the guy who you saw this afternoon?"
I shook my head. "I saw the guy who plays his boyfriend. Short, blond, twinkie type."
Brian snorted. "You know I don't go for chicken." But he was certainly eyeballing the dark-haired actor, who was wearing a tight black wifebeater that showed off his tasty biceps. "I like a bit more -- er -- substance."
I gave him a smack on the arm. "Naw -- you don't like blond-haired chicken! Not much, Sugar Daddy!"
"Quit calling me that, you twat!"
We were laughing and pushing each other and getting a little silly when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other actor -- the blond -- approach the bar. He walked right over to the tall, dark-haired guy -- and put his arms around him.
"Shit! Brian!" I gasped.
"What's the matter?" he laughed. "Did I hit your G-spot?"
"Over there," I said. "No! Don't turn around!"
"How the fuck can I look if I don't turn around?"
"Turn around... slowly," I instructed. "It's the actor I saw this afternoon. With the tall guy."
There was definite interest in Brian's face. He cheated his head around and we both watched the pair. The tall one was backed up against the bar, while the blond stood between his spread legs, whispering in his ear.
I tugged at Brian's arm. "This is bizarre. Because that dark-haired guy -- he's straight!"
Brian coughed. "As straight as a dog's hind leg? Give me a fucking break, Justin!"
"No, really, Brian!" I insisted. "I was wondering what he was doing in this club. Research, maybe?"
Brian smirked. "He seems to be researching that other guy's neck pretty thoroughly. You'd think if they are on that show together he'd have plenty of time to do his 'research' on the company dime. This research seems to be of a more 'personal' nature. VERY personal."
"Well, they play boyfriends on the show, so maybe they're getting in the mood for a scene?" I suggested. I peeked around Brian and saw that the 'research' was getting a lot more intensive.
"I can think of a few interesting scenes... hm," Brian mused. Brian leaned on the bar and motioned to the bartender. He was a muscular blond who'd been giving Brian the eye all evening, so he hurried right over to take Brian's order. "I'd like you to send down a couple of shots of Canadian Club to the pair at the end of the bar. Do you know who I mean?"
The bartender glanced down there and smiled. "You mean the two guys who aren't really here?"
"What do you mean by that?" I asked. "That they aren't really here?"
"Well," said the bartender. "It's kind of an understanding we all have. They come here, but we all pretend that we don't see them. Kind of 'Don't ask, don't tell' -- you know what I mean?"
Brian sneered. "I never heard such total horseshit in my entire life!"
The bartender shrugged. "Maybe, but that's how it is. You still want to send them the drinks?"
Brian narrowed his eyes on the pair at the end of the bar. They'd retreated a bit into the shadows. "Yeah. And make them doubles."
The bartender turned to get the drinks. Brian was moving his mouth around, the way he does when he's plotting something fiendish.
"Okay, what's up?" I asked.
"A challenge," he replied. "Yup, I think I see a bit of a challenge in this fucked up situation." He looked into my eyes. "Are you up for it?"
I found myself grinning. "I'm game!"
"Well, then," said Brian. "The game is afoot. Time for Round One."
"So what's your plan, Brian?" Brian always has a plan. That's why he's the Master!
"First, we need to separate them. If we both go galloping up to there, they'll bolt -- especially if they think they are 'invisible'!" Brian tossed his head. "Jesus! What a fucking set-up!"
"What do we do first?" I said, with growing excitement.
"Cut the weakest member from the herd, of course," Brian answered. "That's going to be your job. We'll wait until the blond makes a move away from the bar. Then you go over and pick up the tall one. HE is obviously the weakest link if he thinks he can make-out at the biggest fucking gay club in town and no one will 'see' him!"
"But what if the blond doesn't move, Brian? Then what?"
Brian licked his lips. "See? They're drinking the shots I sent over. And you know they've already had a couple of drinks before that. If that kid is anything like YOU, then he's got a twink-sized bladder. Believe me, he'll need to hit the can before long. That's when you move in."
Now Brian is a true predator when it comes to picking out, hunting down, and bagging a guy, so I bowed to his superior knowledge. Sure enough, we hadn't been waiting long when the blond actor set down his drink, whispered something to the tall guy, and headed for the men's room.
"There's your cue," said Brian. But I hesitated. "Go and get him. Now!" Brian gave me a slight push. I squared my shoulders and marched right over.
It's weird when you see someone on TV so many times and then you see him in person. It's always a jolt. Once I saw the weatherman from Channel 3 at a drugstore. He was buying hemorrhoid cream. He looked really tall on television, but when I stood next to him he wasn't much bigger than me.
But this was way different. This was no local weatherman. This was a guy I'd been watching and -- I admit it -- fantasizing about for three years! I'd seen him naked. Doing all kinds of stuff to a bunch of different guys. But mainly doing stuff to the twink actor. So maybe I put myself in that twink's place occasionally. So fucking what? That's what fantasies are all about! And everything I'd ever fantasized about I'd pretty much enacted with Brian -- including a few things I saw on that show. Not that I told Brian that! I always let him think it was his idea. He likes to think everything is his idea.
The actor was tall. Not quite as tall as Brian, but almost. But even up close he was really good-looking. Thinner than he seemed on television. He was holding the glass of whiskey in his right hand and I could see that his wrists were thin, almost delicate. He drank down the rest of the glass and set it on the bar. He acted nervous, looking around like he was uncomfortable without his friend standing there, propping him up.
"I see you enjoyed the Canadian Club," I said, plunging right in.
He looked up, startled. "Huh?"
"The drinks. I sent them over. I said that it looked like you enjoyed your drink."
He blushed. Jesus! How cute was that? "Oh... thanks. Yeah, I did. Thanks."
So, he wasn't a stimulating conversationalist. I knew that Brian didn't have any deep philosophical discussions planned. I checked out his clothes. A little scruffy, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. The jeans were worn and he was wearing some sort of cowboy-type belt with a large, ugly buckle. Big old motorcycle boots. Stuff that Brian would toss into the nearest trashcan. But the black wifebeater was just fine. More than fine.
"Come on. Let's dance!" And I grabbed his hand and pulled him along with me before he could say no.
"Um... I don't dance," he sputtered. "I mean... I can't... It's not really a good time...."
"Just shut up and go with the flow," I told him. Sometimes you just have to take the bull by the horns, if you know what I mean?
The dance floor was surging with hot guys, but he was definitely one of the hottest. I put my hands on his skinny hips and just leaned in on him, moving with the beat. A few of the dancers turned and looked at us in amazement. Maybe they were surprised because he was dancing with me and not the blond co-star. Or maybe they were just shocked to see him dancing at all. But people were obviously taking notice of this new development.
And he had been right about one thing. He couldn't dance even a lick. That show must be a miracle of careful editing, because some of the best scenes are of him and the boyfriend dancing. At least I think they are the best scenes. The most romantic scenes. But it didn't matter now if he could dance or not. I really wasn't too interested in his technique. I was just waiting for Brian to make the next move.
Go on to Page 2 of the "Toronto Excursion." .
Send Gaedhal any comments, critiques, suggestions. I welcome all of your feedback!
Posted March 4, 2004.