Maybe he should be more out there with his advances? If James was so socially inept, maybe he didn’t notice the signs? The fucker paid to watch Mike jerk off but wouldn’t look at him now?
“Are the pants good, baby?” Mike tried, playing along with the boyfriend experience.
James’s thumb stopped on the touchscreen, and he slowly, very slowly, looked up. There was slight tension around his eyes, but he smiled. “Maybe a bit too tight around the crotch? We should ask for a different size.”
Mike took a step closer, so his hips were just inches away from James’s face. He put his hands on the wall, over James’s head. “Or maybe I’m just packing too much?” he whispered.
James drew back fast, and he looked up, into Mike’s face. “Don’t. We’re here to buy clothes.”
Mike took a deep breath and backed away. “Okay, okay. So fucking boring. I just thought it’d be entertaining to have a quickie here,” he moaned and started undressing.
“Public places aren’t ideal for having sex,” uttered James, clutching the phone in his hands.
“So, why don’t you have a boyfriend? I bet guys hit on you all the time now.” Mike changed into the other pants he’d brought.
James shrugged. “I’m busy. And you never know what people are after once you change your lifestyle to fit your earnings.”
“What do you mean?” Mike put on a tie he took into the fitting room just for kicks. The last time he’d worn one was a good four or five years ago, for a job interview at Walmart. It had been nothing as classy as the silk one he now held in his hands.
James leaned back, turning the phone in his fingers. “I don’t want someone who is interested in my bank account, or just in how I look.”
“I think that’s why we fell in love so quickly after we met, Jamie. We started talking, and there was just no way for me not to fall for your personality. You’re so kind and giving. Makes me horny.” Mike smirked to himself in the mirror. So maybe he wasn’t classy, but this suit certainly was.
****
Chapter 4
Mike couldn’t believe it when they left the department store with several bags full of clothes, shoes, underwear, and accessories that he couldn’t have afforded in a million years. After James’s declaration of what they needed to buy, Mike did not expect him to pay for everything that fit Mike, including a few very casual bits of clothing. James then took an overwhelmed Mike out for dinner, and had no qualms about paying for expensive food, so Mike had lobster, caviar (which turned out to taste shitty), venison, and downed it all with champagne. James took care of it with a platinum credit card. Mike found that over good food, even conversations with a weirdo like James weren’t a chore. They easily slipped to the topic of cars, and James confessed he only got the Jag because the Mini Cooper he was driving last year had not been appreciated as much as he had wished. Which translated to James being discreetly mocked for his car choice. He learned to love the Jag, but that was no surprise, it was a fucking Jaguar .
The hotel was a far cry from the seedy motel Mike had left only hours before. With marble floors and elegant leather chairs in the lobby, it was like something out of a movie. There were even artworks on the walls. Not posters. Actual paintings. In his new suit, Mike felt like he could own the place. The tired old duffel bag he’d brought didn’t suit him anymore, so he got the bellboy to take it to their room. All he needed was a martini, and he could be James Bond himself. A gay James Bond. He liked that.
The bellboy opened the door for them, and James pulled Mike into a large living room decorated in creamy colors. A set of leather furniture stood next to large, floor-length windows. Between two armchairs was a small table with a vase of fresh flowers, and Mike also spotted a modern painting hanging over a bar. There was even a large flat-screen television.
Everything was of
“Are the pants good, baby?” Mike tried, playing along with the boyfriend experience.
James’s thumb stopped on the touchscreen, and he slowly, very slowly, looked up. There was slight tension around his eyes, but he smiled. “Maybe a bit too tight around the crotch? We should ask for a different size.”
Mike took a step closer, so his hips were just inches away from James’s face. He put his hands on the wall, over James’s head. “Or maybe I’m just packing too much?” he whispered.
James drew back fast, and he looked up, into Mike’s face. “Don’t. We’re here to buy clothes.”
Mike took a deep breath and backed away. “Okay, okay. So fucking boring. I just thought it’d be entertaining to have a quickie here,” he moaned and started undressing.
“Public places aren’t ideal for having sex,” uttered James, clutching the phone in his hands.
“So, why don’t you have a boyfriend? I bet guys hit on you all the time now.” Mike changed into the other pants he’d brought.
James shrugged. “I’m busy. And you never know what people are after once you change your lifestyle to fit your earnings.”
“What do you mean?” Mike put on a tie he took into the fitting room just for kicks. The last time he’d worn one was a good four or five years ago, for a job interview at Walmart. It had been nothing as classy as the silk one he now held in his hands.
James leaned back, turning the phone in his fingers. “I don’t want someone who is interested in my bank account, or just in how I look.”
“I think that’s why we fell in love so quickly after we met, Jamie. We started talking, and there was just no way for me not to fall for your personality. You’re so kind and giving. Makes me horny.” Mike smirked to himself in the mirror. So maybe he wasn’t classy, but this suit certainly was.
****
Chapter 4
Mike couldn’t believe it when they left the department store with several bags full of clothes, shoes, underwear, and accessories that he couldn’t have afforded in a million years. After James’s declaration of what they needed to buy, Mike did not expect him to pay for everything that fit Mike, including a few very casual bits of clothing. James then took an overwhelmed Mike out for dinner, and had no qualms about paying for expensive food, so Mike had lobster, caviar (which turned out to taste shitty), venison, and downed it all with champagne. James took care of it with a platinum credit card. Mike found that over good food, even conversations with a weirdo like James weren’t a chore. They easily slipped to the topic of cars, and James confessed he only got the Jag because the Mini Cooper he was driving last year had not been appreciated as much as he had wished. Which translated to James being discreetly mocked for his car choice. He learned to love the Jag, but that was no surprise, it was a fucking Jaguar .
The hotel was a far cry from the seedy motel Mike had left only hours before. With marble floors and elegant leather chairs in the lobby, it was like something out of a movie. There were even artworks on the walls. Not posters. Actual paintings. In his new suit, Mike felt like he could own the place. The tired old duffel bag he’d brought didn’t suit him anymore, so he got the bellboy to take it to their room. All he needed was a martini, and he could be James Bond himself. A gay James Bond. He liked that.
The bellboy opened the door for them, and James pulled Mike into a large living room decorated in creamy colors. A set of leather furniture stood next to large, floor-length windows. Between two armchairs was a small table with a vase of fresh flowers, and Mike also spotted a modern painting hanging over a bar. There was even a large flat-screen television.
Everything was of
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