Aiden sat on his bed, his back up against the bedroom wall, hunched over his two generations old smartphone. His emerald eyes scanned the grid of serious faces and torso shots as his thumb slowly pushed them up on the screen, hoping that he could find the one that could be his next. Usually he never shopped for a suitor and instead chose to lie in wait and have them come to him, but he was hungry and could wait any longer. It had been almost three weeks since his last hook-up.
His finger stopped, halfway up the phone screen, and then stabbed at the miniscule thumbnail for a larger look. The photo of the man filled the screen. He had mahogany eyes, thick eyebrows, unruly black hair, and a thick bear that hid the furtive smile on his thin lips. Aiden’s mouth watered.
He jabbed his thumb at the chat icon, curled himself forward over the glowing screen and moved his fingers into position.
What do I say? Aiden thought. His brows met over the bridge of his pointed nose, as his right eye tugged at his cheek.
There were endless options, he knew. He could be playful and see where that took him, or he could do what he had done countless time before, with amazing results, and just be sexually aggressive. He flicked back to the photo again and stared into his face.
Nothing came to mind. With the swipe of his thumb the photo was shadowed by the text of the man’s profile. Littered beneath the bold, white headings were movie and pop culture references, the usual snide remarks about the superficiality of the app, and the most damning of all statements at the bottom “no hook-ups.”
Aiden rolled his eyes and sneered.
“Bullshit,” he snorted.
He loved the challenge of pushing against the notions of one’s perceived moral standards. It made the prize all the sweeter.
The phone vibrated and a banner appeared across the top of the screen, a new message from “DTFBTTM.”
Instinctively Aiden went to the new message and read it, “Wanna breed my hole?” The disgust Aiden felt echoed out of his mouth as a groan. He shook his head. There was nothing he found less appealing than desperation. And this boy was the picture of it. Coincidentally he was also one of Aiden’s formers. This “Mark” and he had met a few times before. Aiden knew that another trist would push this kid over an edge he wouldn’t recover from.
“Back-up” Aiden said.
With a few taps he returned to the bearded face of “Jon” and his profile to read it once more. In those few moments a new quote appeared, a string of vaguely familiar song lyrics. Possibly from the musical Hamilton and the song “Helpess;” if Aiden remembered correctly.
“Oh, look at those eyes, the skies the limit,” Aiden typed out and sent his message.
He spun around and laid down on the bed, and rested his legs against the wall, as he waited.
As the moments ticked by he felt a sense of dread well in the pit of his stomach. Maybe it wouldn’t work, he thought. Or maybe he had gotten the song confused with another musical and botched his entry point all together. But his inner self reminded him of the “hungry hole” waiting on the back burner. Pressing his lips together he shook his head. That would have to be a last-last choice he told himself. An eager companion was one thing, but leaving them a hollow and empty shell of a man was not ever an option for him.
The phone shook and his heart leapt from his chest. His fingers fumbling as he grabbed the phone from his stomach and read the reply from “jon.”
“Boy, you got me helpless,” the blue bubble held.
Aiden knew he was in.
“Down for the count and I’m drowining in it,” he texted back.
The next came before he could send another.
“Hamilton fan?” Jon wrote.
Thank, Luce, I was right.
“Isn’t it obvious? I sometimes hold sould out shows in my living room with exclusive, one show only, choreohgraphy.”
“LOL” jon sent back, “Mine are usually poorly attended. Just have the one patron, and he just sticks around cause if he didn’t he might not get fed.”
“Dog or cat”
“Cat, his name is Senor Gatito.”
“Any pics?” Aiden asked, confident of the answer. Sure enough a photo of a long haired feline with an unenthused expression appeared before him.
“That was taken during encores. He wasn’t too happy.”
Aiden’s brows lifted at the proper use of the word ‘too.’
Another blue balloon appeared, “He was hoping for ‘Memories.’” There was a pause and a separate message appeared, “He was high on the nip.”
Aiden waited, his mind trying to come up with a snappy response before he was beaten to the punch.
“Any pics?” Jon sent. “The torso is nice but hopefully there’s more.” The next blue bubble said, “Unless you’re the headless horseman.”
“No, they’re usually asexual,” Aiden responded, mentally patting himself on the back.
Aiden sent his most mediocre face picture, with a smirk on his face and his green eyes reading ‘obviously.’
It only took a second for a reply to appear, “Very handsome.”
“Right back at ya,” Aiden wrote back with more confidence than he felt.
Then the conversation lulled. Aiden opened and closed the chat screen hoping that there was a just a lag, but nothing. He was beginning to worry that this might not happen.
“What’re you doing?” Jon wrote.
Aiden’s heart went into overdrive, that echoed reverberated through his limbs.
“Chillin at home.” He replied, trying to come off aloof. “You?”
“Preparing for the late night show, that is, if Senor shows.”
Aiden smiled at the screen.
This guy can commit.
“Want to make it an ensemble piece?” Aiden responded without thinking.
“Fuck,” he whispered, as he read and re-read his message.
Minutes dragged by before Jon finally replied, “As long as you don’t upstage me,” which was immediately followed with a screenshot of a map, and a red push pin showing his location.
Aiden dropped his phone onto the bed and leapt from the bed and bounded into the bathroom where he hurriedly showered, brushed his pearly teeth, and doused himself in Burberry Brit cologne. He dressed in his most slimming and showcasing ensemble, for once foregoing the notion of underwear for a quick and easy reveal. Giving himself a look over in his cracked full length mirror, he dashed out the front door and down to the ground floor.
“I’m on my way,” he texted back.
On the street he hailed a yellow cab and once inside set off.
Anticipation, adrenaline, and hunger flooded every inch of his body, his heart drummed against his rib cage, and his nose ran. Aiden brushed it away from the back of his cold index finger and sniffed the rest back up into his sinuses.
The cab pulled in front of the brownstone builder and Aiden handed the man the cash, without even counting, and got out.
Aiden opened up the app once more and found that Jon had messaged during the quick cab ride to add, “Third floor, #6.”
The front door to the complex was locked, but adjacent to the door was a panel of names and numbers. Illuminated next to number six read the name “Jon Goshen.” Aiden buzzed the unit number and deep voice answered back, “Come on up.”
The complex door clicked open and Aiden entered.
The rhythm of his heart pounded harder up into his ears. His mouth went dry and his stomach started to turn. In only a few moments he would be full.
Jon answered the door before Aiden could knock.
“Hello,” he said with a false bravado that made Aiden chuckle and blush.
“Evening,” Aiden said, tipping his head foreward to his host. “Did you audience show?”
Aiden stepped inside the apartment.
“I think he had other arrangements.”
Aiden met Jon’s gaze and smiled. He tried to up the charm radiating from his chest, but when he looked into Jon’s eyes his heart skipped a beat.
“Do you want something to drink?” Jon said. He turned and headed for the small kitchen.
“Sure, whatever you got.”
“Whiskey neat, okay?”
Aiden spun on his heel to examine the space. A shag rug of gray and a darker gray took up the center of the room. Movie posters of every decade of cinema decorated the walls, and underneath the window to the fire escape, stretched a long, stout bookcase filled with a mixture of books, movies, and action figures. Most of the toys primarily villains, Aiden noted.
Aiden turned around to find Jon carrying two tumblrs filled with the amber liquid.
The host walked past his guest and took a seat, with a squeak of the springs, on the plum suede sofa. Jon set the glasses down on the coffee table, one in front of the empty spot next to him on the couch. Aiden took the hint and sat.
“So, do you do any performances other than Hamilton?” Jon asked.
The bearded man sipped his drink.
“Sometimes I swing for the cast of Wicked or Bare. My favorites are the jazzy numbers.”
Jon flashed a bright smile of perfect teeth.
Aiden’s eyes locked gazes with him. It was then that he pushed the energy from his chest out to fill the room to it’s brim, that way there was no escape. He had to hurry, he could feel himself getting weak.
Seizing his opportunity Aiden moved forward and locked his lips against Jon’s. A cool chill ran over his body as he opened his mouth and slithered his tongue into Jon’s warm mouth.
Jon lifted his hand and cupped Aiden’s cheek, and matched his move with an arm around his back.
There kisses rose in force and entensity as the found and fell into the other’s rhythm.
Aiden, not breaking their bond, moved his knee onto the couch and laid Jon onto his back, he head rested on the arm of the sofa. Pressing just enough of his weight against his partners body to feel the jump of excitement. Aiden knew there was no turning back. The power of his lips was working. He could feel Jon’s energy and temperature rise. Their dance rose in measure.
Jon tried to parry Aiden back, but it was then that he found his partner removing his shirt to reveal the thick, soft black hair on his chest and small belly.
Aiden straightened his back and removed his own, taking note of Jon’s intense gaze on him.
Next were the pants.
“Wow,” Jon whispered, as he found his partner already bare.
Aiden rushed to remove the final garment.
The two wrapped their libs around the other, locking the kiss.
Aiden rushed with relief, he knew that there was enough for a large piece in the end. This could hold him over for month. The prospect accelerated the excitement.
Aiden broke their lip-lock and kissed a path down Jon’s chest to one his soft brown nipples. His tongue slid out and over it, sliding a thin coat of saliva in a counter-clockwise circles. He jumped to the other for only a moment, and then continued kissing him down his stomach.
Jon gave a breathy laugh and jerked upward as if shocked.
Aiden continued undeterred to Jon’s swarm cock, pressing against Aiden’s smooth chest. The head of which bumped into Aiden’s chin as he looked up into Jon’s eyes. He flashed a half grin before looking down and taking him into his mouth.
Jon writhed beneath him. His long fingers and sweaty palm fell onto the back of Aiden’s head, guiding him up and down.
Jon’s tempo rose and Aiden knew the moment was close. He glanced up at his face with an expression of excited calm, his eyes closed.
Aiden moved faster and faster and as he did the body before him began to emit a faint glow that rose. The gold light seemed to darken the room around them, submerging the pair into a spotlight.
Jon took charge for a brief moment and said, “I’m going to come.”
In a flash of light Jon filled Aiden’s warm mouth with himself and time froze. The golden glow that had risen from the depths of Jon exploded from him and gathered in a haze around him.
Aiden swallowed, straightened his back and then stood above Jon’s still form in mid coitus. On his handsome face a look of pure joy. Aiden ran a hand on his bearded cheek and then bent to plant a single kiss.
Aiden stood straight and gathered a small collection of the golden light and balled it into a bite size snack. He tossed it back and swallowed. A warmth spread from his chest like a summer breeze down his limbs to the tips of his fingers and toes. He gauged the remains of the golden haze and, determining that there was more than enough there, he made one more morsel and ate.
The incubus sighed in relief and closed his eyes, enjoying the pieces of Jon’s soul.
Aiden returned to the apex of Jon’s legs. Once again he wrapped his mouth around his still stiff dick and continued where he had left off. As his head slid up and down time resumed and what light was left was sucked back into Jon’s body as if it had never been removed, returning the room to a darker dim than it had been before.
“Whoa, whoa,” Jon said with a laugh, pushing Aiden away from him.
Like every man the incubus had met, he was sensitive after climax. Aiden smiled a playful, wicked smile and sat back, as he surveyed the beautiful man that laid before him; his head against the arm rest, his arms limp at his side. It was bitter sweet because he knew the end was at hand. Aiden smiled and started to gather his clothes.
Jon sat upright and grabbed Aiden’s hand.
“What’re you doing?”
Aiden furrowed his brow. “I’m leaving?”
Jon smiles and shakes his head.
“That’s not how this works,” he says, as he rises and spins Aiden around and nudges him onto the couch.