NYC Gays in a violent pandemic

[Andyc316]

I’m writing an erotic short-ish story and would love some feedback on chapter one. TW: features pg-13 violence (non-sexual), and descriptions of violent imagery including blood. I’m new to writing and would appreciate constructive feedback. I’m worried that some of the passages are too long.

Thanks <3


LAST NIGHT AT LA CIE’S
Friday nights always meant drinks at La Cie’s with the gang. The gang being Pete, his boyfriend Matt, and Pete’s childhood friend, Barry. Sometimes they had a special guest star in the form of whatever dick Barry was fucking at present, but tonight Pete’s grand plan of setting up Barry with their mutual friend’s coworker, Mario, was finally coming to fruition. Pete had been laying the groundwork for weeks, lavishing Mario with tales of Barry’s extravagant lifestyle (“he owns a condo in Hoboken!”) and his comings and goings (he just came back from a safari in Africa!”) all mostly true, though he might’ve left out a thoroughly and entirely accurate description of Barry. Worst case they get drunk and hookup, Pete thought, at least Barry would be able to add doctor to the list of job descriptions he’s been fucked by.



Matt and Pete were the first to arrive, securing their usual tables at the back right of the bar. Pete sidled up to the bar and got their usual order, a gin gimlet for Matt, and a cosmopolitan for himself. When he got to the table, Pete took his coat off and slung it over the back of the wooden chair nearest him while Matt pushed the two tables together with his upper thighs, making several sharp, grating sounds while doing so.



“You can’t just pick them up, right” Pete said, “you have to scrape them along the floor?”



Matt shrugged and began exaggeratingly pounding the tables with his thighs as if he was fucking the table like an overeager porn star. Pete’s aggravation evaporated, and his scowl was replaced with a smile.



“I’m sorry” Pete said, “it’s just been shitty at work and my nerves are fried.”



“It’s okay,” Matt said, sitting down across from him on the opposite side of the table, “work sucks and then you die, at least table fucking is forever.”



Pete smiled even wider, “if no one else was here I’d throw you on that table and ride you so hard the table legs would be driven into the floor.”



Matt sipped at his gimlet and grinned devilishly, “I dare you.”



Pete bit his lip, but before things could escalate and he was double dog dared into publicly fornicating his boyfriend in front of the other La Cie’s patrons, their friend Barry made his way to their table and tossed a leather briefcase on the table between them. Pete immediately scooped it up and admired it.



“Ooh, Barry with the Brunello attaché!” Pete exclaimed, “how much did this cost, Barry?” he asked, only slightly mocking him.



“$2,550 on Poshmark,” Barry said, sitting down, “but the clasp’s all scratched up. I think I’m gonna return it.”



“Poor Barry,” Matt piped up, “too good for the cheap shit, too cheap for full price.”



“I’m sorry I’m a Goldilocks, Matt,” Barry said, he elongated the “att” in Matt to a comically exaggerated degree. “But everything has to be just right, and sadly Mr. Cucinelli isn’t.” He took the bag back from Pete and gingerly placed it on the ground next to him. Pete smiled slightly because he knew that bag would never be returned and would probably end up being accidentally donated to a Goodwill or Salvation Army and that Barry would tell the story of how he donated a nearly $3,000 Brunello Cucinelli bag to a homophobic organization on accident for the rest of his life. If he listened carefully, Pete could almost hear Barry’s “myyyy “Coooochinelli” bag? In a Goodwill?!” and giggled to himself.



A waitress appeared with a white wine spritzer and placed it in front of Barry. “Where’s Mario?” Barry asked to no one in particular. Pete picked up his phone and said, “I just texted him, but he hasn’t replied.” Barry looked dejected.



“Don’t worry, Barry,” Matt said, “I’m sure he’s just finishing up at the hospital. He’ll be here soon.” and offered a not entirely authentic smile.



He better be, Pete thought, Mario and Barry felt like a long shot, but on paper they were nearly perfect.



Barry wasn’t unattractive, he was just a little frumpy and had fully accepted that he was never going to be a twink, so he refused to deny himself any of life’s pleasures. He also lived in New Jersey and did the commute five days a week, which would be a cardinal sin for city dating, but he was here enough hours that dating a NYC native wasn’t completely out of the picture.



Pete decided early on that one day Barry was the type of guy who would melt his boyfriend’s homophobic parent’s hearts and make them reconsider their biases, but until then he contented himself with fucking around with the usual bar gays and spending far too much money on secondhand designer bags.



Not that Barry hurting for money, he was an established civil engineer working city contracts and made enough money to casually drop two grand on accessories and trips to Africa on a whim. Pete often wondered just how much money he made and had even wondered about the two of them romantically, but as the old saying goes, two bottoms don’t make a top.



Mario, on the other hand, was all but an Adonis. Tall and handsome, Mario had an easy smile for everyone along with the cocksure confidence that made every gay guy rock hard. If you spent any time pursuing his Instagram, as Pete often did, you’d be mesmerized by his six-pack abs and all-around hot boy vibe. Mario was hot shit, Pete mused, and he knew it. It was all together intoxicating and infuriating, but underneath the cocky bravado, it seemed there was somehow a gentleness too, a legitimate caring heart which was why he spent so much time volunteering at the city’s only charity hospital. Mario was the total package, and Pete had spent an inordinate amount of time wondering why Mario wasn’t ringed up already.



The bar had filled in a bit with the usual Friday night regulars and the volume had risen accordingly. Matt got up to get himself another gimlet and pointed at Pete’s half drunken cosmo. Pete nodded yes and Matt slipped past him, close enough that his crotch rubbed against Pete’s shoulder. Pete blushed at the PDA and Barry noticed his reaction.



“So you and Matt are still going good?” Barry asked. Pete smiled despite himself and said, “yeah, we’re good. It’s almost eleven months.” Eleven months was a benchmark in Pete’s dating history—most of his relationships had petered out after only a few months, but Matt was different. Not to say that things were perfect, Pete sometimes thought that they brought out the worst in each other, but the sex was amazing and their recent decision to move in together hadn’t broken the relationship apart or really changed their dynamic at all.



“Eleven months is big time, girl” Barry continued, “you know a year in and you’re in proposal territory,” he laughed.



Pete laughed too, but he wasn’t sure why. In his mind, Pete thought Matt was good enough to stay with, though if someone like Mario decided to show any interest in him, he wasn’t sure what he would do. While he was confident that he wasn’t biding his time waiting for something better, he wasn’t entirely convinced that Matt was the endgame.



“You letting him hit raw yet?” Barry blurted out, leaning in close over the table conspiratorially, desperate for details.



“Barry!” Pete exclaimed, clutching at a nonexistent pearl necklace, “a lady never hits raw and tells!” They both laughed.



Pete still insisted on using condoms and Matt was good enough to not complain, but he could tell that Matt was beginning to get frustrated at the prospect of always wrapping up. Pete wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted to use them, they were both on Prep and eleven months was a lifetime in gay dating years, but still Pete wanted them, and so that was that.



“Well, you know, a guy like Matt could be dumping loads all across the city,” Barry continued, “maybe it’s time you put your little brown ring on his favorite appendage.”

Pete winced and Barry exclaimed, “I’m just saying!” Pete rolled his eyes, but in the back of his mind, he knew Barry was probably right. Fucking raw was almost as expected as a blowjob on the first date, and he wondered if Matt’s unspoken frustrations would lead him to want to hookup with other men who didn’t share such reservations.



Matt returned from the bar, “they ran out of cranberry juice,” he said, placing a pale green colored drink in front of Pete, “so I got you a Kamikaze.”



“What a man,” Barry exclaimed and raised his glass in a mock toast. Pete picked up the glass and sipped it, “what a man”, Pete echoed, smiling.



“Whoops—looks like plan-B is here” Barry said, and motioned his head towards the door. Pete turned around and saw Roland walking in. Roland was a tall, beautiful black man that had probably slept with every single man in the bar by that point, maybe with the exception of Matt. Barry shot his hand up and waved at Roland, a wide grin plastered on his face. Roland nonchalantly nodded his head at him in reply. “Baby’s getting his bottle after all, ladies,” Barry said getting up and grabbing his drink. “I’ll be back” he said in a singsong voice.



Matt took a sip of his gimlet and said, “I thought Barry wanted Mario?”



“Barry wants dick, Matt” Pete replied matter-of-factly, “doesn’t really matter who it’s attached to.” Matt shrugged and took another sip of his gimlet.



They sat in silence, and after a few minutes of scoping out the scene, Pete stood up and said, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom…,” he motioned with his head towards the left side of the room, absentmindedly biting his lip, “…see you in a few minutes.”

Part 2 posted below

 

[Andyc316]

Pete made his way towards the men’s room and hoped that Matt picked up his hint. La Cie wasn’t fancy by any means, but it was popular with the local cruising crowd because of the large size and availability of private places that could be used for relatively discreet hookups. Pete enjoyed it because of the atmosphere and the beautiful ceiling that had been painted to look like a warm, summer sky. He walked past the rear private dining room and thought he could make out Barry on his knees servicing Roland, but it was too dark and honestly it could’ve been anyone.



Pete opened the bathroom door and saw a guy standing at a urinal but it was miraculously otherwise unoccupied. He walked to the last, largest cubicle and went inside. La Cie’s original owner was Italian and installed a toilet and a bidet in the last stall years ago. The bidets were smaller and lower to the ground which made them the perfect height for bathroom quickies. Pete heard the urinal flush, but grimaced when he didn’t hear the sink running as urinal guy apparently felt like he didn’t need to wash his hands after pissing.



After a few moments, Pete heard the bathroom door open again, the low din of drunks and music faded as the door slowly closed on a silent hinge. Pete slowly opened the cubicle door, he could hear footsteps making the short distance from the bathroom door to the cubicle, and suddenly Matt was standing in front of him.



Pete sat on the toilet seat with his pants around his ankles. “Finally,” Pete teased. Matt entered the cubicle and shut and locked the door behind him. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.” Pete’s smile grew wider, “me too, baby, I’ve been daydreaming about your cock.” Matt moved closer to him, and Pete reached out his hands and undid the buttons on Matt’s jeans. Matt was already mostly hard as Pete accepted Matt’s dick into his mouth. Pete closed his eyes and worked his tongue around the growing head, lapping quick circles around it while lightly bobbing his head up and down the shaft.



Matt grabbed the back of Pete’s head and steadied it while he moved his hips in and out at a slow, steady pace. Pete pulled his head back after a few minutes and said, “not like that”. Pete got up and stepped completely out of his pants and underwear and turned his back to Matt. Matt moved towards him and enveloped him in a hug from behind, his wet dick rubbing against Pete’s firm ass cheeks. “I don’t have a condom,” Matt breathed as he kissed Pete’s neck. “I don’t either,” Pete lied, and guided Matt’s hand down towards his asshole. “Did…” Matt sputtered, “did you pre-lube your hole,” he chuckled at the silliness of it. Pete pushed his ass back into Matt’s twitching cock, “yes, baby,” Pete replied. “Slut,” Matt teased.



“Your slut,” Pete corrected him.



Matt picked Pete up off the ground and spun him around, straddling his legs on either side of the bidet and sat his ass on the tank. Pete followed suit while Matt spit on his hand and rubbed saliva on his naked, throbbing cock. Pete stood on his tippy toes to give Matt better clearance and then he slowly felt Matt’s dick slide inside. They both shuddered at the intensity as Pete’s ass opened to take Matt’s erect dick. Pete put his feet on the bidet seat and began to move his body up and down on Matt’s seven-inch cock. “Oh fuck,” Matt whispered instinctually, years of porn utterances flashing through his mind, but that was always his favorite. Matt’s voiced trembled when he said, “it’s so warm”.



“I know babe,” Pete said quietly, “it’s all yours.” Pete had picked up his pace and was quickly grinding his hips up and down on Matt’s thick member. Matt reached out his hands and teased Pete’s small, perky nipples, something he knew would drive Pete wild. Pete’s hand began stroking his own dick, “I’m so wet,” he breathed. Matt took his hand and grabbed Pete’s dick, “shit,” Matt replied, and began rubbing the precum all around the head and shaft. Pete released even more liquid as his arousal went through the roof.



They kept at it for several minutes, Matt’s breath becoming quicker and quicker. Pete knew that meant he was close to cumming. “I’m close,” Matt breathed, “I’m close.” Pete somehow went even faster on his dick, moving up and down with urgent focus. Matt groaned, and after a few more quick trusts moaned, “I’m cumming”. Matt moved to push Pete off of his dick, but Pete pushed back forcefully, “it’s okay,” Pete said quietly, “I want it inside.” Matt unloaded at that, pumping hot ribbons of cum inside Pete’s tightness. Matt entire body was almost vibrating with the pleasure of releasing inside, and he managed to stroke Pete’s dick a few more times and suddenly Pete too was sending thick ribbons of jizz across the stall, they made wet splashing noises as they hit the cubicle door.



Pete collapsed against Matt’s chest. He could feel Matt’s heart pounding, his dick twitching in synch while still inside of him.



“What the fuck,” Matt breathed, “what was that?”



Pete clenched his hole tightly around Matt’s still hard dick, “I just thought it was time we started doing that,” he said dreamily, “I want to feel all of you.”



Matt hugged him tightly, “I want to feel all of you too.” They stayed like that, luxuriating in post-coital bliss for a few minutes more before Pete got up from Matt’s lap and began to put his pants back on. Matt did the same and soon they were dressed and as presentable as they could be after fucking in a public bathroom. Matt pointed at the toilet, “don’t you want to… you know, push it out,” he said, referring to his load still inside Pete’s ass. Pete shook his head no, “I told you; I want it inside.”



Matt grinned, “oh, you’re gross.”



“You’re gross,” Pete teased, and they walked out of the bathroom and back into the bar together.



“Well that took forever,” Barry said as they returned to the table. He had switched from white wine spritzers to rum and coke and had already downed two of them.



“Yes, and how is Mr. Roland?” Pete asked coyly.



“Ten inches and rock hard, thank you” Barry shot back, wiping the corners of his mouth with an imaginary napkin, “or have you forgotten?” Matt rolled his eyes at that and let out an exasperated sigh. Pete found himself enjoying what looked like a display of jealousy.



“Anyway, you two look like you just fucked off ten pounds each,” Barry said, “not that either of you really need to.”



“Flatterer,” Matt said, swishing his wrist at Barry dramatically. Pete looked shocked and delighted at Matt’s sass, while Barry mouthed “oh, fuck you” at him. Pete shrugged and made a “what can you do” face at him.



It was becoming increasingly obvious that Mario was going to be a no-show, and so they fell into easy conversation amongst the three of them, punctuated by trips to the bar and Barry getting up to chase dick all around like a police dog after getting a whiff of narcotics.



Outside, a series of police cars drove past with their sirens blaring, red and blue lights flashed through the antique diamond patterned windows at the front of the bar and reflected back prisms of purple light into the dimly lit bar. After a few seconds another round of police cars drove past, then another.



“Well that’s the problem,” Barry slurred, obviously well, well past shit-faced, “you douchebags from Manhattan shit on NJ until you couple up and start shooting kids out, then suddenly Jersey isn’t that bad because, well, now you need backyards and daycares that aren’t run out of the backrooms of bodegas.” Barry paused to take a sip of his fifth rum and coke. “So they pile their shitty selves and their shitty kids into their shitty Teslas and drive like maniacs while I’m just trying to get Starbucks!”



Pete pretended at being shocked, “Barry, oh my God, no one even mentioned Jersery!”



“Yeah, Barry,” Matt interjected, “it’s okay that you live in New Jersey. No one thinks less of you.” Pete cracked up and Matt smiled at his reaction. “It’s awful,” Barry plowed on, “…it’s like a…” his voice trailed off. Pete had a mental image of Barry dressed like Bruce Vilanch on a peloton bike, furiously running through a list of nonsensical analogies before Barry screamed out, “it’s like a möbius cumdump!”



Pete groaned while Matt fell out laughing. The corners of Pete’s mouth eventually curled up into a wide smile. “Your life, Barry, is a möbius cumdump!” Pete said, “seriously, I saw your videos on pornhub before they shitcanned revenge porn.”



Barry raised his glass, “and what a sad day that was!” They all went in and clinked their glasses, though Pete thought it was really a rather good thing pornhub had done and commended them at the time.



Just as they finished their latest drinks, a series of loud, piercing screams was heard from outside. Everyone in the bar turned their attention to the front as the door ripped open with a loud bang and a man staggered inside and collapsed on the floor. “Shooter! Shooter!” Barry screamed out drunkenly while diving to the floor for cover. He grabbed his bag and held it tightly over his head as if the Italian leather would somehow stop bullets. Matt leaned over and said, “would you get up, it’s not a shooter for fuck’s sake.”



Someone had switched the lights on and most of the bar patrons stood frozen staring in the now brightly lit bar. Staring at each other and then starting at the man laying on the ground. One lesbian woman in the corner quickly stopped fingering her date to sheepishly help her straighten her skirt back into place. Pete couldn’t help but rush towards the man to see what was wrong. “Oh god,” Pete said, “he’s bleeding bad!” Matt had already dialed 911 as the bartender ran forward slipping her hands into a pair of baby blue latex gloves. “Let me see,” she said as she moved past Pete.



Someone moved to the large wooden and wrought iron door at the front of the bar and locked the deadbolt just in case whoever had assaulted the man was looking for him. “Jesus Christ,” the bartender said, “someone slashed his neck. Get me a towel!” Pete ran over and grabbed a towel from the bar, giving it to her. “Who’s got 911?”



Matt was now standing next to Pete and replied that he did. He put the phone on speaker and held it close to the bartender’s head. 911 had already asked for their location, which Matt provided, and was instructing the bartender to apply steady pressure to the wound. Pete stared at the man’s face. He was handsome, maybe mid-thirties, like Matt, but tall and lanky, with blondish hair, and a bit of stubble growing on his chin and cheeks. He looked like a banker, or a Wall Street guy, not someone who should be bleeding to death on the floor of bar.



Pete noticed his face was growing pale, and his eyes looked glassy—almost disconnected. It was then that Pete saw the blood that had begun to pool around the man’s head. “His head’s bleeding!” Pete shouted. Matt instinctively ran to the bar and grabbed another towel and handed it towards the bartender. “I can’t move my hands”, she said, “don’t touch the blood but you gotta move this head and put the towel under it.” Matt hesitated, not wanting to get too close to the man’s blood. “I…” Matt stammered, “I… I can’t.”



Pete saw that Matt was frozen in place and grabbed the towel from his outstretched hand, and with a swift motion tilted the man’s face to the right side and carefully placed the waded-up towel on the man’s head wound. Pete then quickly rolled the man’s head back gently, so it rested on the towel. “Is that okay?” Pete asked the bartender. “Fuck if I know,” she replied, “I took first aid for my morning nanny job, they didn’t go over this shit.”



There was another loud bang at the front door followed by a muffled voice screaming, “NYPD, open the door!” The same person who locked the door earlier opened the lock and two police officers burst through with two EMTs and a stretcher following closely behind.



“Johnny 5-0,” Barry slurred, now standing closely behind Matt and Pete, “praise Allah!” Both Matt and Pete rolled their eyes but said nothing. The EMTs quickly assessed the man and moved him onto the stretcher, “Pulse is thready, we need to keep pressure,” one said, the other nodded and spoke into the walkie talkie clipped to his shirt, “tell Barnabas we’ve got a code 27 echo inbound; pulse is weak...”

“His head’s fucked up too,” Pete shouted at the EMT closest to him. The EMT just nodded awkwardly in Pete’s direction and mentioned the head injury to his dispatch. As quickly as the EMTs arrived they were gone, all that remained of the man was a pool of blood on the tile floor and the white towels that were now stained a dark crimson.



The police officers remained and began speaking with each of the witnesses. When the bartender finally finished speaking with the officers, she quickly made a pot of coffee for anyone who needed to settle their nerves. Matt and Pete both had a cup while Barry was intermittently sobbing big, sloppy tears, and making out with Roland in the back of the bar.



“Well, at least Barry’s night wasn’t completely ruined,” Matt said sarcastically.


“He’s a 24/7 sperm bank,” Pete said solemnly, “he’s always taking donations.”



They both chuckled lightly and resumed sipping their coffee, relishing the seeming mundanity after their night out turned into a quasi-horror movie. One of the officers walked towards them and pointed at Pete. “You’re up,” she said. Pete stood up and Matt reached out to squeeze his hand. Pete walked with the officer to a less crowded section of the bar. “Tell me what you saw tonight,” the officer said. Matt was struck by how young she looked, but proceeded to tell her everything he witnessed, leaving out the obviously scandalous parts of Matt dumping a hot load in his ass in the bathroom.



“And you’ve never seen the victim before tonight,” the officer asked, “he wasn’t a regular here?” Pete thought for a moment. “No, never,” he answered truthfully, “at least not as far as I can remember… I’m here at least once a week and he didn’t look familiar.”



The officer asked a few more follow up questions and then took his name and phone number down, telling him they’d be in touch if they needed anything further. Pete thanked her and asked, “have you heard anything about how he’s doing?” The officer smiled grimly, “doesn’t sound like he made it,” she said and walked away.



Pete stood there, stunned. Matt walked over and placed his arm around Pete’s shoulder. “ACAB, am I right?” he joked. When Pete didn’t react, he said, “you okay?”



Pete found himself unable to speak right away. “That guy died,” he said, his voice breaking. Matt enveloped him in a hug. “Come on,” he said, “lets get out of here.” Matt moved to Pete’s left side so Pete wouldn’t have to look at the congealing blood on the floor as they were walking out. They saw Barry outside, still hanging on to Roland. Pete mouthed, “are you okay?” to him, and Barry raised him a week thumbs up and offered a half-hearted smile. Pete returned an even less enthusiastic smile.



A News 12 camera crew pulled up and were setting up for a live shot on the sidewalk, and they walked quickly past a beat reported talking to one of the police officers, not wanting to be stopped and asked to relive the evenings events.



Matt offered Pete his right arm, and he accepted it. They walked home in silence, not daring to bring up the murder they had just witnessed for fear that it would somehow make it even more horribly real.

 

[Brian74]

Just since you asked for feedback:

On the objective side of things, I think you are a pretty good novice writer(not that I am in any way authorized to say that, lol) You did a nice job building out the scene and setting the mood. I like the depth you gave your characters by sharing some of their backstories too.

However, this short story turns very dark and I suspect for some it may even be triggering.

You did the responsible thing by warning of the violence in your opening paragraph and thanks for that. I can only speak for me but this is too close to reality. The sad reality being that not only has this happened but with the enormous amount of hate and homophobia in this country, it is all too likely to happen again.

This type of story seems like it would have a very limited audience, regardless of how well written it might be.

But don’t let that keep you from writing stories if you like to do that. I do think you have writers potential.

 

[ztbutt38]

I thought this was really captivating. I was expecting it to be a lot more porn-y and was pleasantly surprised by how descriptive it was and how rich the characters' thoughts and emotions were.
I hope you keep it up! I'm still curious about the pandemic part!

 

[mitchie801]

Not really an enjoyable story. This is an erotic story section, not some hyper-political make-a-statement thread. Overall pretty terrible, and the ACAB reference just put it over top of leftist persecution porn.

 

[Andyc316]

HI—thanks for reading—I wasn’t going to respond until there was more story for people to take in, but I had to say: there’s no mention of politics or any political stance in the story so far, and “ACAB” was a joke made to lighten the mood after both main characters helped the police and EMTs—please don’t be hypersensitive and look for things that aren’t there.

I hope you’ll stick around for chapter two which will be coming soon.

Not really an enjoyable story. This is an erotic story section, not some hyper-political make-a-statement thread. Overall pretty terrible, and the ACAB reference just put it over top of leftist persecution porn.

 

[Andyc316]

I thought this was really captivating. I was expecting it to be a lot more porn-y and was pleasantly surprised by how descriptive it was and how rich the characters' thoughts and emotions were.
I hope you keep it up! I'm still curious about the pandemic part!

Thank you so much for your kind words—there will be more coming about the pandemic and its effects on the characters in the chapters to come