“Hi,” the guy said to him, and introduced himself. Visuals were registering a little more now. Clean, clean-cut, conservative looking. Looked like he’d be more at home in the bookstore across the street than in a backroom bar. Bookstore cruising not going well tonight, copain?
“I’m Jean-Paul.” The guy – Jean-Paul had already forgotten his name – actually reached out his hand to shake. Definitely not something that happened much in this place. “So, you want to go to the back room?” Jean-Paul asked as he took the guy’s hand.
The guy shook his head. “I’m not into back rooms, but I’d like to buy you a drink.”
“Save your money. I’m not into men who aren’t into back rooms.”
“Come on. Just one. We could talk a bit. Maybe,” he looked around, “go somewhere else if we’d like to...” His voice drifted off.
Jean-Paul smiled at him. “No thanks,” he said. “Not interested.”
“Come on,” the guy said again. “You might like me if you take a little time to get to know me.”
“I’m sure you’re a nice guy. What we have here, though, is incompatible aims. I’m not looking to get to know anyone. You’re looking for someone to talk to and get to know and maybe go somewhere and...” He deliberately didn’t finish the sentence, just as the guy hadn’t. The guy actually blushed when he did that! Jean-Paul continued. “I’m looking for someone who wants to go in the back room and suck my cock. So, why don’t you go find somebody else to get to know, hein? And I’ll stay here until someone who’s looking for what I’ve got comes along.”
The guy took a deep breath. He didn’t say anything for a long time, but he didn’t make any move to go and find someone more compatible. Finally, he spoke. “Cut or uncut?” he asked.
“Un-. Does that count for me or against me with you?”
“Enough to go against your principles and try out the back room?”
“Maybe. I’m Jewish – I was raised to be frightened of dangerous, uncircumcised men,” he added with a smile.
“And you like danger?” Jean-Paul smiled too as the guy nodded. “I’m a mutant,” he added. “I like to get that out of the way first.”
“I’m not prejudiced,” the guy said, a little too fast. Then he thought about what he’d just heard. “Are you a dangerous mutant?” he asked.
“Only when I want to be.” He gestured to the door in the back of the bar. “So, we go in there? Maybe you’ll find you like back rooms after all.”
Jean-Paul didn’t know if the guy was deciding he liked back rooms, but he clearly liked what he was doing. He was licking and sucking Jean-Paul’s cock with enthusiasm mixed with expertise. His tongue kept wandering back to the foreskin. Dangerous uncircumcised men? Jean-Paul found himself thinking he’d have to ask Adam if he’d felt some special taboo-related thrill when they’d first had sex. Then remembered that he wasn’t on those kinds of terms with Adam anymore. And likely never would be.
He shook himself, turning his attention from Adam remembered to the man kneeling in front of him right now. Stroking his balls with a couple fingers as his mouth alternated between licking and sucking on the head, he was using the rest of his hand to slide up and down the shaft. The guy’s other hand was in Jean-Paul’s pants, holding onto his ass, stroking slowly. It all felt really good. He looked good, too, whatever his name was, now that Jean-Paul was paying a little more attention to him. Handsome without being pretty, good cheekbones, nice hair that Jean-Paul had a double handful of at the moment. He looked better – not so strait-laced and conservative – like this, with a mouth full of cock. Jean-Paul grabbed him by the back of the head and started moving him forward and back. “Take it all in, copain,” he said, pushing hard and then pulling back out. “Come on. Swallow it. You can do it.” Alternately pulling on the guy’s hair and pushing him back, Jean-Paul fucked his face harder and faster until he shot his load down the guy’s throat.
The guy stood up afterwards, brushing his pant legs as he did. “You’ve got a great cock,” he said to Jean-Paul, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
“Thanks.” He leaned in, kissing the guy on the mouth, tongue pushing in like his cock had just done. Reaching between the guy’s legs, he stroked a little. “Do you want me to do you now?” he asked.
“Not here. Look – we did it your way. Can we go somewhere else now? Like maybe some place with a bed? Is that just pathetically conventional of me?”
Jean-Paul laughed. “No, it’s fine. I don’t have anywhere I can take you, though. I’m living somewhere I can’t bring... people back to just now.”
“By ‘people’ you mean ‘tricks’? I understand. I’ve got a room. Not too far from here.” And then, in response to the expression on Jean-Paul’s face, “I know. Some of the rooms around here aren’t any better than a back room, but this is a good hotel. I’m in New York on business.”
“What kind of business?” Jean-Paul asked, a few minutes later, as they walked to the hotel.
“I’m a journalist.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. I just know a little bit about the work. My... ex is a reporter, too.”
“Recent ex, I assume, and a significant relationship, too. Or you wouldn’t be hesitating to call him that.”
“You reporters are always drawing conclusions, aren’t you?”
“Well, was I right?”
“Quebecois.” At the guy’s puzzled expression, he clarified. “French Canadian.”
“French and Canadian. Arrogant and boring. Sorry – old joke.”
“I’ve heard it before.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I live in the States now. I moved here last year.”
“So soon after the war? Most mutants are moving to Canada.”
Jean-Paul shrugged but didn’t say any more until they were in the hotel room. And when he did talk, it wasn’t about immigration. “So there’s a bed here,” he said, gesturing to it. “What do you want to do?” He pulled off his shirt and sat down on the bed.
“I... uh... would you fuck me?” The guy was looking nervous. “I have condoms and lube,” he added.
“Bien. Take your clothes off.”
Jean-Paul watched while he did. Nice body, he thought. The guy wasn’t making eye contact. Having second thoughts or just shy? Jean-Paul took his clothes off, too, and pulled his now naked companion down on the bed with him, lying on top of him, kissing him hard, reaching to stroke his cock while he did. He seemed to be getting over the shyness, or whatever it was, kissing hungrily, hands stroking. “Where are the condoms?” Jean-Paul asked after a while.
The guy reached into a drawer of the nightstand and got out a pack of condoms and a tube of lube. “Put it on me,” Jean-Paul said, closing his eyes as he felt his cock stroked and the condom rolling on. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he added, eyes open now, noticing the guy looking wary again.
“Yeah, I’m just... it’s been a while.”
“Do you want to sit on it? You can have more control that way.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I want you to push it in me. Hard.”
“Sure thing, copain. Get on your hands and knees.” He did, and Jean-Paul knelt behind him and looked at him for a minute. “You’ve got a nice ass,” he said, stroking with both hands, spreading the cheeks a bit. He pushed inside, hard, making the guy in front of him gasp. “That’s how you like it?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before starting to fuck him with pounding strokes, kneeling behind him, pulling on his thighs to bring him closer.
“Yes,” the guy answered his question, almost in a whisper, and leaned his head down on the bed as he rubbed his own cock. He moaned and whimpered as Jean-Paul shoved it into him again and again.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, leaning down now, talking in the guy’s ear.
“Yes, but I like it. It’s good. Keep doing it like that.”
And then neither of them said anything else, just moving together now, hard and fast. The guy shook as he came and then moved with Jean-Paul while Jean-Paul fucked faster and harder until he was coming, too.
They both sat up afterwards, leaning against each other a bit. Jean-Paul turned and kissed the guy on the mouth again. “That was good. You’re right – better on a bed for that than in a back room.” After a minute, he added, “Well, I think I should be going.”
“Could you stay?” He looked down. “It just seems so...strange or something, to do that and then you just leave.”
“That’s kind of what it’s like when you pick up guys in bars, hein?”
“Does it have to be? I mean, I’m not looking for a relationship or anything, but is it so much to want a one-night stand to last a night?” He smiled sardonically at Jean-Paul, who laughed.
“Okay, why not? But I have to make a call, to say I’ll be out all night.” He picked his pants up off the floor and took out his cell phone. “No signal.”
“I know. It’s always like that here. Hotel management says there’s interference from the generator. I think they do it on purpose so they can charge their guests exorbitant phone rates.” He gestured to the hotel phone. “Go ahead. My paper will pay for it.”
Jean-Paul asked for Wendy’s room, but got April. “You’re up late ma petite,” he said, and listened, smiling, to a long story involving a kitten, a ball of yarn, and telekinesis. “Is mommy there?” he asked after a while, telling Wendy when she got on that he expected to be out all night and that he wasn’t available via cell but could be reached if needed at 212 555-3232, Room 534.
“Having fun?” she asked.
“I won’t give out the number unless Cyclops needs you for a mission or there’s some sort of emergency.”
“Ezra is okay?”
“Yes, he’s fine. Adam and Anjuli were taking a walk with the boys last I saw them, then getting them ready for bed.”
“Bien. See you tomorrow.”
The guy – Jean-Paul really wished he could remember his name, this was getting embarrassing – was looking at him quizzically when he got off the phone. “What?” Jean-Paul asked him.
“So the reporter ex is a wife, is she? And there’s a child, too? Does she know what you’re doing? Is she okay with that?”
“Ah, you reporters. Jumping to conclusions. No, that wasn’t my ex, or my child. Wendy’s a friend – she and her husband and daughter are all friends of mine. I was talking to her daughter and then to her. My ex is a man. And I do have a child – we adopted him together.” He shrugged. “Now we’re not together. We’re sharing custody. It’s his turn to be the hands-on parent tonight. When Ad- when my ex has our son, I can go out in the evenings.”
“Picking up men in bars and fucking them in hotel rooms?”
“Sometimes. More often just blow jobs in the back room. Why?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t associate that kind of thing with having a family.” He added quickly, “I’m not being critical.”
“Well, as you guessed before when you were guessing right, my family is in flux at the moment. The breakup is still new. We’re both trying to negotiate it, figure out what works for us.” He shrugged and didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he added, “I came to this country because of his work, because we were making a life together.”
“Is he a mutant?” Jean-Paul shook his head. “What’s your gift?” he asked, and then quickly afterwards, “Is that okay to ask?”
“Oui, it’s fine. I have two. Flight and super speed.”
“Really? You mean you can really fly?” Jean-Paul nodded. “And super speed? What does that mean? How fast?”
“I can go around the world in a few minutes. Most of the time is take-off and landing. Once I’m really going it’s close to c, to light speed.”
The guy whistled a little, looking at him like he was seeing him in a new way. “Is your last name Beaubier? Were you with Alpha Flight when you lived in Canada?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“I read an article about you – part of a series on mutants in sports. In the San Francisco Chronicle. I know the guy who wrote it.”
“I think there must be five newspaper reporters in the world, total. You all seem to know each other.”
“What was it like working with Alpha Flight?”
Jean-Paul shook his head. “I don’t talk about my work.”
“You don’t even work there anymore.”
“When you work for an agency like Alpha Flight, you don’t talk about it even after you leave.”
“Hey, are you an X-Man now?” Jean-Paul didn’t answer. “Am I asking too many questions?”
“Peut-être. Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself, instead?”
“Where should I begin?”
“Well, this is kind of embarrassing, but why don’t you start with your name. I’m sorry – I never quite caught it.”
“That’s okay. It’s Rick. Rick Kapell.”