How to leave the closet

They entered what apparently was Alfred’s place. Arthur came in, Arthur saw, Arthur was dumfounded.

“You live here?” he asked with a voice showered in unhidden admiration.

It wasn’t like the flat was enormous, but it looked sparkling new, and the furniture seemed to be of the exclusive kind. The white walls were filled with posters from old movies, paintings of the city and a few photographs here and there of naked men, - but, Arthur noticed, not the pornographic kind. They were more like a tribute to the human body.

Alfred sank down into a black leather-sofa while kicking off his shoes. A smirk crossed his lips at Arthur’s question, and he rolled with the eyes as if he had never heard anyone ask something like that. “No, I just break randomly into people’s homes – of course I live here. Ya like it?”

“I do!” Arthur blurted out, almost feeling embarrassed of his own honesty. Alfred laughed.

“Want a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Gin&tonic is fine, right?”

“Sure.” Arthur wasn’t really listening, his eyes locked on the ceiling. Just like at the front of the building someone had painted a giant rainbow crossing through the living room into the kitchen into which Alfred disappeared. Arthur shook his head, hanged his coat on a hanger and bowed down to untie his shoes.

‘So, this is how gays live.’

Arthur stepped out of his shoes, neatly placing them by the wall. He straightened up in his back while taking in the sight again. On the wall next to him, shelves with books and figures caught his attention. He walked over, taking a closer look at an apparently homemade figure of a male torso. Beside it a handful of CD’s were dumped. Arthur threw a short look towards the kitchen, making sure Alfred wasn’t watching him before he flipped through the different albums. Village people. Avril Lavigne. Mozart.

‘Wow, he’s really got everything. Oh, how about you, Arthur? Working forty hours every week for the last twenty years must mean something!’ Indeed, I have a perfect, lousy place shared with a rotten cat, which I can hardly afford to feed. Oh, great capitalism!’

Arthur gritted together his teeth as he couldn’t really help but feel jealous. He’d been working at the same office for his whole life, and never had he gotten a promotion, never had anyone offered him a few dollars more on his pay check, never had his chief shown him any gratitude for his hard work. Even when he got his divorce, all the man did was to pass by his desk, smiling: ‘Single again, hah? Couldn’t get it up, hah?’ Fucking Frenchman. A month ago he spend the whole day following him while bragging of his sexual experience with women.

‘I can make them come three times in a row!’ he’d said, and Arthur had just stood there, unsure of what to answer. He could had made fun of him, told him he was lying - but that would have been the same as quitting his job – no one dared to let a bad word about the Frenchman cross their lips, for they all needed their job so very hard.

Reminded him – Alfred’s job had to be pretty good if he were to afford this place.

Arthur’s eyes fell upon Alfred’s boots, which he had thoughtlessly tossed across the floor. He knew it wasn’t his home, but it didn’t look nice, and he couldn’t help but pick them up and place them next to his own.

“My brother does that all the time.” Arthur looked up. Alfred was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, holding two glasses. “Always cleaning up for me. I’m telling ya, if he didn’t exist, the place here would be filled to the brim with garbage!” He laughed in a raw manner, raw like his mistreated jeans. Arthur hadn’t noticed earlier, but in the lightened up room he could see all the holes and the bare skin peeking out from them. Alfred looked down as he noticed Arthur’s starring. “Yeah, that’s fashion, old man,” he grinned, making Arthur blush.

“Was just wondering,” he mumbled. Alfred walked to him, handing him one of the glasses. “Thanks.” He took it, looked down into the bright liquid. It was Friday, there wasn’t any work to get up to the next morning, but still he couldn’t help but wonder whether it was that smart to start drinking now. When he drank, he often said too much about things that shouldn’t be mentioned at all, and when he first had begun, he couldn’t stop himself. But then again – it was just one glass. One single glass.

“Ya not used to alcohol?” Alfred misunderstood Arthur’s hesitating, and the Englishman quickly lifted the glass to the lips, taking in a sip.

“I am, it’s fine. I was just daydreaming,” he smiled as an excuse, “guess I’m not used to staying up this late.”

“This late?” Alfred wrinkled his nose. “It’s hardly midnight.”

“Yeah, I know..”

“You go to bed this early?”

“Normally earlier.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Wow.” Alfred held a pause. “That sucks, man!” Arthur shrugged his shoulders, taking a seat in the sofa. Alfred followed, sitting down next to him with a wonderingly look in his eyes. “I mean, normally I would just be starting partying now.” His voice was so sincere that Arthur couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, you’re a lot younger than me.” Alfred looked at Arthur.

“Oh? Whatcha age?”

“Guess.” Alfred rolled with his eyes.

“How girly. Well, okay, uhm…” His eyes took in the sight of Arthur, from top to toes. He wrinkled his brows, his gaze hesitatingly locking with Arthur’s for a second, making Arthur’s heart skip a beat. “35!”

It skipped several beats.

“What?” Arthur’s eyes widened, and over his face fell a shadow of disappointment. “Do I look that old?” Alfred laughed loudly, placing his glass back onto the table.

“Just kidding. 28?”

“30,” Arthur mumbled, not really sure whether or not Alfred had been honest with his last guess.

“There you go! You look two years younger than you are,” Alfred grinned. “Now, guess my age.” Alfred moved in the sofa till he sat with his body facing Arthur. The Englishman swallowed in embarrassment, as he had to let his eyes wander.

Underneath the leatherjacket Alfred had been wearing a tight white shirt. His body wasn’t exactly muscular, but he clearly worked out, and the sudden image of a sweaty Alfred running through the park popped up in Arthur’s mind, and he quickly looked away, trying to distract himself.

“Uhh…” he grunted, acting like he was thinking real hard. “Uhh… I would say… 22.”

“Close – 21.”

‘Nine years! Heavens, that’s a tough difference.’ Arthur choked at his sudden thought, ‘n-not that it matters, Arthur. It’s not like he and you are going to-‘

“Do you have a bathroom?” Arthur uttered in such haste that his words almost stumbled together as one sentence – doyohabathrom?

“Whaa’?” Alfred raised his brows while trying to figure out what the other had said. “A bathroom? ‘s over there.” He gestured towards a smaller hallway with three doors. “The last.” Arthur nodded, quickly got up and particularly flew to the room, locking up the door behind him. He leaned his back against it, took in a deep breath and slowly sank down to sit on the floor.

“Impure thoughts, go away,” he whispered, grabbing around his head. It had just been too much at once. First he nearly got beaten up, and then this gay comes along, rescuing him. As a ‘thank you’ he vomits on his jacket, gets invited up and is suddenly having nasty thoughts about the bloke. “All it equals up to you being a perverted idiot,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly.

Reminded him – had he even thanked the other for helping him out back then? “Okay – a perverted, ungrateful idiot. You’re the one who acts like you’re 21,” he scolded himself. With a sigh he pushed himself up from the floor and flushed the toilet, just in case that the other could hear him. He leaned down over the sink. Having been reminded of his little accident earlier, he suddenly felt as if his whole mouth was filled with liquids from his stomach. Carefully, he gulped down a few mouthfuls of water, then allowed his heated up face to be cooled down by running his wet fingers down across his cheeks. He sighed. He already felt better.

As he unlocked the door again, it was in the calmest way he could manage, and he got out while nonchalantly saying: “Oh yeah, I forgot to thank you for helping me out back there in the park, didn’t I? I’m really thankful.” But as he entered the living room once again, Alfred was nowhere to be seen. Arthur scratched the back of his neck, turning his head from side to side. “Alfred?”

“Ya don’t wanna thank me properly?” The voice came from behind. Arthur jumped in surprise and turned around, almost smacking his head against Alfred’s chest. He looked up at the taller bloke who smiled relaxed back at him. “Sorry, I scared ya?”

“A little,” Arthur admitted, loosening his tie a little, “what.. uhm, what did you mean with ‘thanking you properly’?” Alfred’s smile grew. Arthur had to loosen his tie even more. Had Alfred turned on the heath?

“I mean what I said – thank me properly.” Arthur hesitated, but then he slowly bowed down, his arms resting at his sides.

“Thank you.”

“Noo-eh!” Alfred’s voice roared with laughter, and he wrinkled his nose with a smirk. “Not that kind of thanks, dude! I was thinking of something more…” he slipped a hand up Arthur’s right arm while sloping the head to the side, “personal.”

Had Arthur been a comic-character had his nose been spitting blood. Instead his whole face turned tomato-red, and he gaped, no words crossing his lips. Alfred took a step closer, closing the last gap between them so that their bodies were now touching. Arthur’s heart was on its way out of his chest, it was beating so hard.

“P-p-p-personal?” he hiccupped, and he was sure Alfred was going to laugh again, but instead he smirked lightly, leaning down.

“Yeah, like.. How ‘bout a kiss?” Arthur looked at everything but Arthur.

“A.. k-“ He shook his head. “Didn’t you hear me? I… I am straight! Completely straight.”

”That’s what I mean.” Alfred didn’t make sense. But it seemed he was determined on doing so. He slipped two fingers underneath Arthur’s chin and forced his head upwards, making him look into his eyes. “If you’re completely straight and sure of it, you can’t feel threatened by kissing a man. And you do owe me – if I hadn’t wasted my time saving you, I could be sucking on a dick right now.” Arthur closed his eyes. Starring into Alfred’s was doing no good for his blood flow.

“I… I don’t quite follow you. I mean it-“

Alfred didn’t allow him to finish. All of a sudden Alfred closed the short distance between them by pressing his lips to Arthur’s. Taken by surprise he couldn’t even make up a protest, he couldn’t make his body revolt, make it shove Alfred away, and apparently that was an invite for the bloke who slipped his arms around his body.

Alfred moved his lips like a professional. Arthur didn’t move at all. Alfred slipped a hand to the back of his head and took a hold of hair, gently prodding him to make a move.

Arthur felt trapped in a dilemma. On one hand he really wanted to just run away, find a safe place to hide.

But then, on the other hand – just kissing Alfred felt better than any sexual intercourse he had ever had with a woman, and he didn’t feel like letting it go already.

So he kissed him back. He grabbed Alfred by the collar and pulled him down into a more intimate kiss. The other hummed as a happy response and slipped his wet tongue across Arthur’s lips, and the Englishman opened up for it, welcoming it with his own.

When kissing a woman, you have to dominate. There’s always that burden on you, because you’re the man, you’re the strong part of the relationship. You’re to sweep her off her feet, make her moan before you may moan. And for Arthur that had been a huge turn off.

Now, however, with another man’s tongue in his mouth, he wasn’t just allowed to dominate the kiss, no, he had to fight for it. He found himself gasping for air as he tried pushing the kiss back into Alfred’s mouth, but the bloke didn’t just give in but fought back in a battle for dominance.

“Mhmm!” Arthur had been so into the kiss that he hadn’t even noticed how Alfred’s hands had started to wander. Suddenly he felt a hand cup him through his pants, and he pulled back, throwing a look down.

“Come on,” Alfred whispered and leaned in so that his breath tickled Arthur’s ear, “come on, touch me.” Arthur reached forward a shaking hand, zipping Alfred’s pants open. Alfred’s lips curved into a smile, he could feel against his skin, and the young man’s teeth locked around his earlobe. “Mhmm, tug me out,” he guided. Arthur leaned his forehead against Alfred’s shoulder while following the other’s guiding.

‘No underwear,’ he noticed in silence, wrinkling down the pants a little in order to be able to get his hand down. He wrapped his fingers around the hot meat and delightedly felt how it throbbed in his hand.

“Yeah, but wait up..” Alfred’s voice was hoarse. He drew in a heavy mouthful of air, licking his lips as he too got Arthur tugged out. He started pumping his shaft slightly, leaning in to press Arthur’s dick to his. Arthur watched through half-closed eyes. He hardly dared to take in the sight of what he had only seen in magazines. He feared, the sight would make him cum immediately, for it was almost too erotic, too-

“I’ve never done it with an older guy,” Alfred suddenly interrupted his thoughts with a lusty grin. Arthur sank, closing his eyes completely and he bit hard down onto his lower lips as he started jerking him off faster.

“Don’t… say such stuff..”

“Turning you on, is it?” Alfred sank his chin to Arthur’s hair. “Hey, look up. Look at me.” Arthur didn’t move. “Arty.” He slowly raised his gaze to look into Alfred’s eyes, and the clear, unhidden desire that were shining from them made his brain close down, and seconds later he came, spilling his cum in Alfred’s hand.

“Christ-“

“Nice one.” Alfred chuckled, slowing down his pace till he let go of Arthur completely. He pressed his fingers to his lips, licking off Arthur’s cum with a smug look on his face. Arthur hid his eyes behind a hand, lips shaking with embarrassment.

“S-sorry, I’ve just never-“

“Ya never been with a man, I know,” Alfred smiled. “Seems like you’re not that straight, haah?”

‘Not that straight?’ It seemed obvious. Arthur’s sexuality was clear, he had even confirmed it, but going from playing to admitting he had been living his whole on the wrong side of the road – that was a step he wasn’t ready to take. He suddenly felt extremely unsure. It was as if his heart turned into stone and his brain into a mess of thoughts he shouldn’t have, and he stepped away from Alfred, shaking his head uncontrollably from side to side.

“N-no, you’re wrong. I’m completely straight. It was.. I.. You took advantage of me!” Alfred blinked with the eyes. It seemed as if he wasn’t sure whether Arthur was acting out a really bad joke, or if he was serious, but as Arthur leapt towards the entrance, he woke up from his sleep, zipping up his own pants as he followed.

“Hey! What was that? I took advantage of ya? You can’t be serious!” Arthur didn’t answer. He grabbed the nearest jacket as he plumped his feet into a random pair of shoes. They looked like his, that much he noticed. “Are ya going to leave just like that?”

“I should be leaving for the police station!” Arthur cried, sending Alfred a horrified look. “I… I… You bastard!” And he left.

Alfred could hear how Arthur ran down the stairs, tripped halfway and howled as if in pain. He slowly walked to the window from which he could watch Arthur come stumbling out of the door, stumbling around like a lost child before running in the wrong direction. He let go of a sigh, shaking his head slightly.

“Damnit, man, I was just starting to feel it,” he mumbled, massaging his cock through the pants. It had started softening. He looked down, smiling slightly. “What ya say, pal? Should we call up the Asian guy for a quick round?”