BLOOD TIES CHP 2
#3 of BLOOD TIES
2
"What do you mean you cut back and now aren't going to hire me?" I got out hyperventilating. "I just put a deposit down on my apartment and moved in. How in the hell am I supposed to make rent next month?" The older guy in front of me at the community theater where I'd applied two months prior sat squirming in his seat.
"Look kid," wiping his sweaty brow, "it's not that I don't want to keep you but I can't. The theater is losing money left and right. I didn't even know until the owners told me. I'm not even sure my job is going to be safe!"
I sat there in my chair near panic dreading the fact that I'd have to turn around and take the bus back home and thus face the laughter of my Father. I could call Granddad but I didn't want to do that at the moment.
The theater manager reached into his side desk drawer. "Here kid," tossing me a business card, "Go see them and tell them 'Louie' sent you. It's not the type of work you'd expect here but it's better pay and some fringe benefits. Benefits I'm guessing you'd enjoy," as he gave me a slight smirk.
I took the card and read it; "PRIME PRODUCTIONS". "K," I sighed, "I appreciate it man. I'll see them tomorrow or Friday." Making my way out the door into the oppressive heat I knew right away I needed a drink, "WEHO, here I come."
It took the better part of an hour to get up to West Hollywood by bus. Fortunately for me, I only lived twenty minutes walking distance from most of the bars. I had splurged on decent housing. I didn't want to live in a shithole and I sure as hell didn't want to live in 'Crack land' either. It had nothing to do with the 'scene' but more out of convenience and desire for decent living space.
My stuff had already been sent by my Mom via parcel service and I'd just bought a new bed that had been delivered. Other than that, the space was sparsely furnished. One couch that I'd splurged on besides the TV. I at least had cable. For how long after the job situation, well, that was anyone's guess. Right now though, I needed a drink. A strong one.
I ended up at one of the less than popular bars in WEHO. In fact, I don't really think I'd seen it before. It was kind of in the corner of an alleyway. You really had to look to find the damn place. That was fine. Right then I wanted nothing more than a stiff drink and a few minutes to contemplate all that was right and wrong in my life and where the hell I was going to get rent.
I pulled out the business card and flipped it over. "Prime Productions..." I murmured to myself. "Well, it looks like you are my only hope at the moment. Other than trying to find a fast food job," sighing and pocketing the card back into my back pocket. Two drinks later, and I was feeling better about the whole thing. It's amazing what a little whiskey can do for one.
Funny thing is I kept getting the sense that I was being watched the whole time. From the moment I walked into the place it felt like all the eyes were on me. Even the bartender gave me a toothy smile like I was some prize to be won at a state fair. I initially put if off to nothing more than walking into an unfamiliar place and everyone sizing up the new 'meat' that had walked in off the street but this, this was different. Sure it was a gay bar, the rainbow sticker on the door and the flag out front flittering in the hot breeze told me that without speaking. The longer I sat there though, the more I felt as if I was being sized up.
As I was taking another sip of my whiskey and coke, I felt the bar give slightly as someone leaned on it next to me. "You're not from around here," the heady and masculine voice lolled in my ear.
I looked up to see this really HOT, and I mean HOT, dark haired stud in jeans and black tee. He had to be at least six foot; tall compared to my 5'8". Built like a brick shit house with the words "DOUGLAS CONSTRUCTION" emblazoned above his protruding left pec. I could tell his nipples were pierced. The barbells showing through the material. I lifted my drink up acknowledging him, "I'm not. I just moved to town and do you use that line a lot?" He chuckled deeply, "Busted."
"I hear a Midwest mix to your accent flitted with something else. Illinois?" his left eyebrow reared up. I put my drink down, "Michigan, UP for most of my life." "Ah," he smiled down at me while rubbing the stubble on his jaw, "that's why I hear the Canadian in the back of it being so close to Ontario. By the way, I'm Dustin. Dustin Douglas," putting forth his hand.
I reached over and took it, "Tristan, Tristan Case."
He pulled over a barstool and sat down beside me, "So, what's brought you to our little city?" Pulling some of my drink before I answered, I sat down the near empty glass, "Getting the fuck out of Michigan."
Dustin nodded, "I can appreciate that fully. I'm from north of Pittsburgh. Nothing there anymore since steel business busted. I moved out here about 20 years ago and started my own construction business. So far, it's been favorable even in this economy."
He squinted at me as if sizing me up, "If I may ask, you seem jacked out of shape. What's up?"
I sat there swirling the remains of my drink, "Well, I've officially been here a little over a day and the job I was supposed to start today ended before I got a chance to begin."
"Ouch!" Dustin winced. Nodding I continued, "Yeah, I was going to do stage work for one of the theater companies in the area but the 'trapdoor' fell out and they let me go before I even began. Right now, I'm trying to figure out where I'm going to get next month's rent."
Dustin rubbed his chin again. Damn it was sexy when he did that; you heard that sweet little noise of the scruff against the callouses of his hand. "Wish I could offer you something but I just hired on a new guy the other day," Dustin offered.
I waved him off, "I have at least a possibility," pulling the business card out of my pocket. Dustin read it with a grin.
"The theater manager said they would likely use me and my background in set production and lighting," taking the card back from him and pocketing it. Dustin still had a smile on his face. "What's with the silly smile?" I asked curiously.
His smile got bigger, "Nothing. Just happy that you might have a lead." I swear I saw a twinkle in his eye.
After a few minutes of shooting the shit and Dustin buying me another drink, I realized I had to use the bathroom. As I got up, I ran into someone behind me. "Sorry," I got out realizing that I'd possibly spilt their drink. I looked up into the eyes of another man. Blond, brown eyes, not bad looking but definitely not my type and taste.
"Who's this little morsel?" he said. The words seemed to slither out of his mouth and frankly repulsed me.
I heard a slight growl in Dustin's voice, "Back off Dean. He's a friend." This guy, Dean, sneered at Dustin. "Whatever," he spoke haughtily, "although, he does look good enough to eat."
I could have sworn I saw him lick his lips and his top teeth. "Later... sweetie." He walked away towards a back corner.
"I need to use the can," looking back towards Dustin. "Back there and to your left," he pointed towards near the spot that Dean guy had sauntered off towards. "Thanks! I'll be back in a minute. I have to piss," heading back towards the toilet.
I passed Dean. He was half assed chatting with another man who seemed annoyed to even talk with him. I could tell that Dean was watching me and it didn't make me feel all that wonderful. I stepped into the bathroom, up to the urinal and unzipped. Seconds later, the splashing sound had me sighing with relief. I was about to finish up when the door opened. It was Dean.
"Well, well, what do we have here? Nice dick!" as he leaned over and peered down at my piece.
I pulled away, "Dude! That's kind of blatantly rude don't you think?"
He ran a finger down my back to the top of my jeans. "Oh please," he huffed, "you know you're hot to trot and want some of Dustin's cock. I can offer you that and more."
"Whatever," I said bitingly while trying to stick my cock back into the fly of my boxers and jeans.
"Whatever indeed..." The next thing I knew, I felt Dean grab my arms with his left and my head with the right while shoving me forward into the space of the urinal. FUCK, he was strong as I struggled to break free. "I'm hungry," he said before I felt his breath on my neck and teeth sink into my skin.