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  The Resolution

  A Short Story

  Raleigh Ruebins

  This is a work of fiction. Names, businesses, places, and events are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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  Copyright © 2018 Raleigh Ruebins

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  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Contents

  1. The Resolution

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  1

  The Resolution

  New Year’s Resolution.

  I stared at the words on the page of my notebook, and it felt like they were staring back at me. I tried writing them again, in all capital letters, to see if it jostled any new ideas. Nothing came.

  Fitness was my resolution last year. I’d been steadfast for the first few weeks, and then a little less… and by now, I was more acquainted with the inside of a tub of ice cream than the inside of a gym.

  Exercise was out. But as I tapped my pen against the page, trying to conjure what may be a good resolution, the blare of my phone rang out through the room.

  “Keith,” Marley said, her voice full of pep. “You’re coming with me to this New Year’s party tonight. Wear blue. That’s the theme.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “First of all, I am not going to any party,” I said, “and certainly not one where I have to wear blue.”

  “Why not?” she protested. “You know you look great in blue. Brings out your eyes.”

  “Of course I look great in it. That’s not the point.”

  “Then… what is?” she asked, irritation in her voice. “Keith, this is the first party my brother is bartending at. He’s one of, like, six bartenders, but I have to show up and support him.”

  “The last thing I need right now is to party,” I said. “I’m trying to set goals.”

  “You can set goals anytime. Come on, I can’t go alone, and if I don’t go I’ll end up at home alone, drinking champagne.”

  “Oh no, we couldn’t have that,” I said, sarcasm dripping in my voice.

  “Exactly,” she said.

  I stared down at my blank notebook and started doodling concentric circles. “Where’s the party?” I asked.

  “Up on the mountain,” she said, and I heard in her voice that she knew she was going to win this argument.”

  “Is it in a mansion?” I asked. The mountains in our small California town were known for being where the wealthy went to play.

  “Yes, but a modest one,” she said. “It’s my friend Megan’s house. Come on, Keith. You haven’t gone to a single party with me since you split up with Bethany.”

  “Don’t talk about Bethany,” I said, my voice dropping lower. It had been a year since my fiance had left me, and sadly, Marley was right. I hadn’t been going out. I hadn’t been doing much of anything in the past year without her.

  “This could be a new start,” Marley said. “Meet someone new. Huh? What do you say?”

  My notebook was still white as fresh snow. Bethany had always said I was too boring at parties, always standing in a corner, never having fun.

  Maybe tonight would be a time to prove her wrong. To go out and do something fun, and hell, yes, maybe even meet someone new.

  Even thinking about it made me nauseous. But some small flame had started to burn inside me, and I knew it was the right thing to do.

  “Fine,” I said. “Pick me up in an hour.” I hung up the phone just as Marley was shouting with glee, and I took a deep breath, putting my pen back to the notebook.

  Resolution: Hook up with one person on New Year’s Eve.

  Simple. To the point. Terrifying, but necessary. I hadn’t been with anyone since Bethany left, and tonight, that was going to change. It was a new leaf, a new year, and nothing was going to stop me.

  Approximately three hours later, I was doomed.

  Not only was I not meant to be at this party--everyone was so fancy and well-dressed that I felt like a dusty mushroom--but I also hadn’t met a single woman who seemed like she might like me.

  Marley had floated off into the crowds an hour ago, leaving me to my own devices. But after a short conversation with a “diamond entrepreneur,” I realized that I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t going to wait to toast with champagne at midnight--I needed alcohol now.

  I walked over to the little bar that was set up in the corner of the kitchen, leaning on the marble top. The catering bartender was turned in the other direction, facing away from me. She looked cute--close cropped short hair, a great figure, and a perfect ass in black slacks.

  And of course, after an evening full of disappointment, that was all it took for me to start being interested in this bartender. Maybe she would be different. Maybe she would be infatuated with me, would whisk me away to her car and kiss me….

  “Excuse me, miss?” I asked.

  “Oh, not miss. What can I get for you, sir?”

  “Oh God,” I said.

  It wasn’t a girl at all. He turned around, and his crystal green eyes were staring up at me with an intense fire in them.

  “I’m so sorry--I didn’t mean to call you a girl, to misgender you--”

  He shook his head. “No problem at all,” he said. “What are you drinking?”

  “I--uh--what’s… what’s good?”

  The man smiled wryly, clearly seeing that I was flustered. “Let me make you my favorite cocktail,” he said, getting to work quickly. After a minute, he slid a blue cocktail my way, and I took a sip.

  “Oh wow,” I said, immediately having more. “That’s crazy good.”

  “Secret ingredient is elderflower liqueur,” he said, winking at me.

  I smiled back at him. “Thanks for taking care of me,” I said.

  “Of course,” he replied. “You seemed like you needed it.”

  I let out a long sigh, staring around at the party raging on in the main living room. “I did need it,” I said. “I don’t exactly belong at this party, if you can’t tell.”

  “I could kind of tell,” he said. “Because I don’t belong here either.”

  “What?” I asked, turning to look him up and down. “But you’re… young, and attractive, and I’m certainly not.”

  “First of all, it’s bold of you to say you’re not attractive when you’re the hottest guy I’ve seen all night,” the man said, staring me dead in the eye. “And secondly… thank you.”

  I couldn’t break his gaze. I was staring at him almost like he was a challenge.

  What… was this? Was he flirting with me?

  I’d been to some gay bars in the past and had met up with guys who seemed interested in me. But this… this was slightly jarring. I wasn’t sure if it was just because his eyes were so arresting, or the fact that I’d been ogling his ass before he turned around, but I felt a distinct sense of this being different.

  “I wish the women here agreed with you,” I said. “I’ve been trying to find someone all night, but… it doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen.”

  He eyed me, looking me up and down, shameless.

  “Well, I’d definitely want you to fuck me if you weren’t straight, so you can take that for a compliment,” he said.

  My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. “Wh--what?” I asked.

  He nodded. “You’re hot, duh,” he said.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to jump you or something. But it’s true.”

  I swallowed hard, my brain not fully in control of what I was saying. “What if… I wanted that?”

  The words hung between us, heavy in the air.

  Jesus. Had I really just said that?

  “Wanted… what?” he asked.

  Breathing in was difficult. “Wanted to fuck you,” I said, my voice low and almost inaudible. But I knew he’d heard me--his eyes widened, just the tiniest bit, and he took in the smallest gasp.

  “Yeah right,” he whispered.

  But I’d become bold, sometime in the last ten minutes, and I realized that this could be it--this could be my answer, the resolution, that I could hook up with someone after all. It would just be the first time I’d hooked up with a man.

  I checked around me again, making sure no one else was near. “Do you get a break, at some point in your shift?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Half an hour from now,” he said.

  “Good,” I said. “Come find me upstairs.”

  And with that, I walked away, stealing back off into the crowd. My face was hot--my whole body was hot--and I couldn’t believe what I’d just done.

  Party guests weren’t technically supposed to be upstairs. But Marley had shown me up there at the beginning of the night, and I’d laid my coat on an empty bed in a guest room. There were probably at least three guest rooms in this mansion, all of them equipped with gleaming bathrooms that were bigger than my room back at home.

  I’d rushed upstairs after talking to the bartender, and slowly and surely started to regret everything I’d said.

  What had I been thinking? He probably took me for a madman. Inviting a complete stranger upstairs, in a house he was working in….

  But as I sat on the bed, the door open to the hallway outside, my heart nearly stopped when I saw the silhouette of his figure in the doorway.

  “There you are,” he said, walking in. He shut the door behind him, locking it.

  “Oh God,” I said, barely realizing I’d said it out loud.

  His eyes went wide. “What?”

  “Are we… are we really going to do this?”

  He took one step back. “Fuck. I didn’t get the wrong idea, did I? I mean--of course we don’t have to do this--I’m sorry--”

  He started to reach for the door knob and I practically leaped off the bed. “No,” I said, closing the distance between us. “I… I do want to. I just have never….”

  “Never what?” he asked. His eyes were like fire when they met mine. Why was I so attracted to him?

  “Never done anything with a guy.”

  A slow realization spread over his face. “Holy shit, are you straight?”

  “A little bit,” I said. “I promised myself I’d hook up with someone tonight, but I thought it would be a woman--I mean, it never even crossed my mind.”

  He smiled softly, then reached out and took my hand. “Come here,” he said, leading me back to the bed. I half expected him to tackle me onto it, but instead he just sat down next to me, holding my hand. His palm was so soft, and for some reason, the feeling of his hand in mine made my cock perk up a little under my pants.

  “So you’re sure you want to do this?” he asked. His face was relaxed, genuine, and not at all pushy, but I couldn’t ignore the smolder in his eyes.

  “I think… I think I want it so much it’s kind of scaring me,” I said, my voice low.

  His eyes widened just for a moment, and I could tell he was satisfied with my answer. He licked his lips, and I could see them glisten in the low light, driving me absolutely crazy.

  A thousand thoughts raced through my head.

  Just do it.

  Are you really going to do it?

  Jesus Christ, look at his lips.

  God, he smells good….

  In that split second, I decided to act purely on instinct. After all, I had a resolution to keep, and if I didn’t act now, I may never have the courage.

  And so I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. I felt him take in a sharp breath at the contact, and his hand squeezed hard in mine.

  The strangest thing about it was that it wasn’t weird at all to be kissing another guy. It felt different, sure, but really it just felt good. His lips were plush but yielding, and as soon as I pulled back I instantly wanted more.

  “How was that?” he asked, watching me intently.

  “It was… it was good,” I said, swallowing. “Really good.”

  He smiled, his eyes going wild, before moving in again and kissing me, harder this time. He had needed some kind of permission and it seemed like he’d gotten it, because now I could feel his tongue sliding against mine, and the sensation went straight to my cock. And I noticed the first thing about him that was different than anyone I’d ever been with: the faint feeling of his stubble against my cheek, not rough but definitely present.

  I was kissing a man. And good Lord, was I enjoying it.

  He pulled my lower lip between his teeth, giving it a quick bite. It was just a small gesture, but it drove me absolutely fucking wild.

  I moaned, pushing him onto the bed next to me. He was lying on his back now, and I bent over him to kiss him, hungry. I moved my lips down to his neck, sucking a slow kiss to the soft skin there, and he let out a slow laugh.

  “Oh God, you are good,” he murmured. “I was not expecting this tonight.”

  “Neither was I,” I said, between kisses on his neck. He started to buck his hips upward, grinding against me, and I felt for the first time that he was hard, too.

  It sent a thrill through me. I never would have expected to enjoy another guy’s hard-on touching me--but the fact that I had done this, I had given him this pleasure--made the realization so sweet.

  And from then on, I had all the encouragement I needed. He wanted this as much as I did, and at least so far, I wasn’t failing him. I began unbuttoning his shirt, slowly pressing my lips to every bit of exposed skin. And as I slid his shirt off, I discovered a large, sweeping tattoo across the side of his torso. It was a snaking pattern that looked like some sort of flowers on a vine.

  “Whoa,” I said, running my palm along the dark lines. “This is beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I got it earlier this year. Lot of people hate it.”

  “How could they?” I said, leaning in to press so many small kisses along it. I could feel every sharp breath he took in as I ran my lips and tongue along his skin. There was a light trail of hair leading from his lower stomach down under his pants. Another sign that I was with a man, and yet somehow it only turned me on more.

  I ran my fingertips along the trail as I kissed upward, taking one of his nipples in my mouth. He shuddered beneath me and I slipped my fingertips just below the waistband of his pants.

  And then I could feel it: the outline of the tip of his cock, hard and waiting under the cloth of his underwear.

  “Oh my God,” I uttered, pausing for a moment. I had the sudden realization that I had no idea what I was doing. Until now, all of this had been relatively standard: I had kissed before, I had flicked my tongue across a nipple… but I had never interacted with another man’s cock, and I was in a state of paralysis over it.

  “All okay?” he asked, and I dared to glance up at him. It was a bad idea, because now I was staring into those beautiful eyes, with my fingertips just sort of… placed at the tip of his cock.

  “Ah--I--” I started. “It’s all so new.”

  Finally I let out a long breath that I’d been holding, and he laughed. With anyone else I would have felt embarrassed, but something about his warmth made me realize that he wasn’t making fun of me--he was simply enjoying himself.

  “Want me to teach you how to blow a guy?” he said, smiling down at me.

  “Oh God, that would be amazing,” I said. I sat back up, composing myself, and sitting nicely on the bed. I expected him to get out his phone to bring up a tips website, or to somehow demonstra
te on his own hand, or something, but I let out a gasp when he pushed me back down onto the bed.

  And then it was no-holds-barred. He grasped the outline of my cock through my pants as he kissed me hard, pinning me to the bed with his bodyweight. In a few moments, he had tugged my shirt off, and was going at my belt, slipping it off and tossing it to the floor.

  And then, all at once, he slowed down. He stroked one palm along my cheek, looking me in the eye before he dipped lower, moving to kiss the skin above my waistband. Here, he took his time, trailing his fingertips left and right, out to my hips and then back again.

  It was maddening. I’d never had someone go so slow there, hovering just inches above my cock, for so long. I could feel his stubble against my skin still, and I loved every moment even though it was a unique kind of torture.

  And then mercifully, he finally unbuttoned my pants, sliding them off in one motion along with my underwear.

  There I was. Totally naked in front of another man--under another man--and I was harder than I could ever remember being. There was no mistaking it. Precum leaked from my tip, and I practically felt like I could burst just from having his eyes on me.

  I pulled in a long, slow breath, and he looked up at me. “All okay?” he asked.

  “I’m… I’m just nervous,” I said.

  “You don’t have to be,” he replied. For a moment, he came back up and lay next to me, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and pulling me in for a deep kiss. It was more comforting than I could have imagined. I actually felt like he cared about me, and for the first time, I realized that this was more than just a quick, anonymous hookup.

  I was really enjoying myself. Despite all of the anxiety and unfamiliarity.

  “I want you to teach me,” I said, my voice low next to his ear. “I trust you.”

  “Mmm,” he hummed, kissing me once more before moving lower again, hovering just over my cock. I wanted it so badly--wanted him to plunge his mouth over me, to take control.