THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Clayton

Written by Lady Poetess
egiggles at moose-mail.com
http://www.asstr.org/~bbp

Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This
story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive.

ONE

Pleasant, cheerful, undemanding, and right now in such a murderous
mood that he could rip apart mad dogs - or his employer Mr Yick,
which he much preferred to hurt than poor innocent insane doggies
at the moment - Clayton Aiken Gummins pushed his glasses up the
bridge of his nose and wished he could hurt someone the way he was
pounding away at his keyboard at the moment.

He would be working late until who knows when.

He was silent when Mr Yick cheerfully announced that Clay's
working hours now extended to Saturdays without the appropriate
renumeration to come along with his increased working hour. He did
the fucker's account books, compiled reports, and worked way
outside his job description for peanuts every month, but he didn't
complain. He didn't say a word. He wished he knew how to.
Naturally, his colleagues were spared the indignity of being
bullied by Mr Yick. They were gorgeous, gregarious, and they knew
how to say the right things. Clay couldn't even bring himself to
say an insincere flattery without feeling as if he was betraying
his very principles.

It all been piling inside, this mood of his. Maybe it started when
he realized that his now ex lied to him about true love and
happily ever after - the scumbag actually had a wife and three
kids waiting for him in London. He was angry because he had forced
himself to deny the warning signs in that relationship until it
blew up in his face. He was so lonely that he wanted so badly to
believe that Jake was the happily ever after. He wished he had
choices. He wanted to walk away from this job and away from his
life. He wanted new friends. But his mother was ill and his kid
brother needed someone to finance the college tuition fees.
Someone had to pay the rent and foot the bills. Clay, being the
eldest kid, was the one to step in ever since his no good father
disappeared from their lives when he was six.

"Good evening, I'm from Green Chip Computers, and I'm here to look
at the problems you're encountering with a computer you bought
from us?"

Clay thought he had died. That couldn't be... he looked up, his
heart beating in an accelerated tattoo, anticipation, dread, joy,
and terpidation all raging within his breast as he looked at the
direction of that familiar voice.

The man was still as handsome as ever, although this time the
man's smile was not just gorgeous, it was fucking fake and
insincere now that Clay knew that Ryan Fucking John Liar Liar Liar
Seacrest was a scumbag through and through. If Clay was
irrational, he would blame that fuck for his downward spiral and
his inexplicable attraction to men that turned to be jerks.

Ryan took off those pretentious shades and for a second it seemed
to Clay as if shock flashed in those eyes. The smile weakened a
second later before Ryan's facade returned full force, Mr Snake
Oil Salesman personified. It was humiliating for Clay to recall
how he actually let Ryan talked him into losing his virginity to
Ryan (okay, Clay admitted that it was good) and then later his
heart, until that fuck shattered Clay's heart to pieces that day
five years ago when Clay waited at the train station for Ryan to
show up. It had to be raining heavily on that day too. The
melodramatic perversity of that day still irked Clay now that he
recalled that humiliating moment.

"You okay, Clay?" The pleasant and friendly African-American woman
who occupied the next cubicle said.

"I'm okay, Kimmel," Clay answered, flashing a real grin at
Kimberley Locke, who had turned out to be real friend during the
three years he worked here. Kimmel, as they all called her, was
real with her emotions and she took no nonsense, which was why
she, like Clay, would never be promoted by Yick unless hell froze
over first. "I have to stay late tonight. I have to do a report
for the big guy or else."

"You don't let him bully you none, Clay," Kimmel said, slinging
her handbag over her shoulder. "Me and the usual gang will be down
at Abracadabra later tonight, so come on over if you need some
time out from your back. Trenyce says she has a couple of guys she
knows you will love to meet."

Clay chuckled. The last time that crazy gang tried to fix him up,
it was a nightmare. Clay had to flee to the gent's and call into
his handphone for help. Thank goodness Ruben was willing to come
in, pretend to be a jealous boyfriend, and helped Clay get out of
what was shaping up to be the most boring date in his life. Simon
Cowell just talked on and on and on about his latest facelift,
hair implant, and liposuction that Clay lost all appetite for the
vanilla ice cream dessert. "I thought he was such a nice guy, like
Elton John," Trenyce sighed later. Unfortunately for Clay, Trenyce
being the manager of one of the hottest modeling agencies in the
country knew no shortage of potentially disastrous men for set
Clay up with on blind dates.

"I'll do that," he said.

"Hello, Clay."

Clay wondered how he could have allowed Ryan to sneak up to him
like this. "Hello, Ryan." He could be as nonchalant as Ryan. He
could learn from Ryan how to be a cold and heartless scumbag too.
"You'd better talk to Yuck, I mean, Yick about the database
problem."

"I will. How interesting that the problematic computer is just
there near your cubicle," Ryan said. "And how more interesting it
is that you are staying in late tonight - just like I will be,
working on that bitch all night beside you."

Shit. Clay didn't think of this unwelcome reunion in that light.
He didn't want to be near Ryan. Not now when his libido was
already threatening to betray him by singing the welcome
hallelujah to Ryan. Damn, it wasn't fair that Ryan was still as
gorgeous, perfectly groomed, perfectly manicured, perfectly... "Do
you still shave?" He wished he hadn't blurted that question out.

Ryan's grin told Clay that he knew just exactly what Clay was
asking. "Nope. No longer, once I knew just how wild cute geeky
nerds go for the naturally hirsute look."

Clay would gorge out his eyeballs later. Right now they stray to
the collar of Ryan's shirt, where sure enough, he could detect a
few light golden strands at the wide triangle of exposed flesh.
How many other geeks had Ryan deflowered after Clay? Clay hated to
even wonder, and he really wanted to die when he actually felt
some envy at those who came after him in Ryan's life. How many?
Four years - let's take a generous ten guys Ryan screwed over in a
year - forty? Fifty? A hundred? Was it possible to die of shame
for getting worked over such trivial nonsense?

"Good for you," Clay managed to say. "I hope you're happy."

Ryan laughed, causing those few who were still in the office to
look at them in surprise. "I love how you can say those words and
still make it sound as if you want me dead. Oh, Clay, there's no
one like you, do you know that?"

Was that why you didn't show, Clay wanted to ask. Instead, he
deliberately looked at his monitor, trying his best to ignore Ryan
as he typed furiously at his report. He missed the look on Ryan's
face.

Kimmel didn't. Later as she would tell her girlfriends Vanessa and
Trenyce, Ryan just stood there, looking as if he had been stabbed
in the heart when Clay deliberately cut him away. Ryan took a step
back, caught himself, and lowered his hand that was outstretched
in some instinctive need to make Clay look at him again.

"Oh my God, this is so juicy," Vanessa exclaimed. "Clay must have
been nursing this broken heart all along. No wonder he has no
successful relationships since. He must be holding out for this
man!"

Trenyce shuddered slightly. Unless Vanessa, she wasn't that
optimistic and perky where human beings were concerned. She asked
the most practical questions first. "Who's Ryan Seacrest? I don't
know him, so he can't be anybody worth holding out for."

Kimmel, the most level-headed one, sighed at Trenyce. "You also
know the President," she pointed out.

"I do not! The First Lady wanted me to help her choose the
curtains in the White House, that's all," Trenyce corrected her.
"Now, the Prince of Monaco, now that one I know..."

"Is he cute?" Vanessa cut in.

"A little too much hairgel, tanning cream, teeth, and too little
height," Kimmel summed up succintly. "I don't like him, he looks
like some sleazy PR person, but I don't know. He looked at Clay
pretty sweet, and I'm always protective over Clay."

"Oh, Kimmel - "

"I know, Trenyce, he's a big boy and he can take care of himself,
but he always come off like this sweet innocent virgin boy who
needs to be looked after," Kimmel said in exasperation. "I can't
help it. It must be me having to take care of some many little
brothers."

"What is this about brothers?" Ruben Studdard said, poking his
head between Vanessa and Kimmel as he munched on a cheeseburger.
"Clay is babysitting your brothers, Kimmel? Can he babysit mine
too? Momma always said they are a handful."

Trenyce and Vanessa suddenly had coughing fits. Bless Ruben,
Kimmel thought, wanting to laugh herself, he always knew when to
remind them all that despite their very different personalities,
they always had enough in common to remain friends despite
everything.




TWO

"When are you leaving?" Ryan asked.

"I wish I could," Clay answered, looking up, welcoming Ryan's
intrusion despite himself. Page 23 into the report and counting,
having to bullshit his way through office politicospeak was really
trying on his nerves. He was tired and he just wanted to go home
and sleep. "I really have to submit this to Yick in the morning."

"You can call him Yuck in my presence," Ryan said softly as he
walked over and sat on Clay's table.

Clay enjoyed the sight of the curves of Ryan's buttocks really too
much. In fact, the proximity of Ryan was bringing back memories -
good memories of hot nights where they cooled off the excesses of
their passions among the tangled sheets of Clay's bed. Where did
they go wrong? Why did he and Ryan just have to turn out to be the
perfect cliche of a first love - it never lasted? It was also
always very easy to talk to Ryan. Clay had never had anyone to
unburden himself. His family needed him, his school friends saw
him as the epitome of responsibility, and adults considered him
the perfect gentleman. It was Ryan who treated Clay like a human
being. No wonder Clay fell hard. Even if he would willingly sell
his soul to have a confidante like Ryan in his life once more, he
wouldn't be so susceptible to Ryan this time. He wouldn't. Oh
fuck. "I hate him." Okay, fool him once, fool him twice, et
cetera. "I wish he's dead."

"That's a little excessive. Gangrenous limbs and multiple
amputation will be much more civilized wish," Ryan said. "What
kind of name is Yick anyway?"

"He underpays me while expecting me to work overtime for him. He
only criticizes me even after I've spent extra effort and hours
trying to satisfy him. I once submitted the five hundred paged
report he demanded, and you know what he said? He said I used the
wrong font and tossed the report back to me. Fuck him!" Clay had
never been so childish and bitchy in his life. It felt good to be
bitchy and childish.

"It is wrong for me to feel jealous when you talking about fucking
Yick? I don't know whether I'm jealous or aroused. I love the way
to draw out the 'f' before ejaculating the 'uck' - 'ffffff-uck
him!' - just beautiful." Ryan straightened, letting his right leg
rest on the floor as he leaned aside and placed his left hand over
the top of Clay's monitor. The man didn't even bother to hide the
arousal in his jeans. "You can quit this job," he told Clay. "You
can come live with me. I'll support the both of us and your family
too, although I expect your siblings to chip in their share and
clean our fridge and toilet every weekend to express their undying
gratitude to me."

"I hate you," Clay exclaimed, recoiling as Ryan's thoughtless
words hit him like a physical blow. "I hate you," he repeated.

"Yeah? Every hate you harbor for me, I hate myself twice as much,"
Ryan told him. "Do you know why I didn't show up that day?"

"Was it me?" There, the question Clay always wondered, hated
himself for wondering, and wanted so desperately to know the
answer to.

"No, never," Ryan said, looking genuinely shocked at the question.
He placed his fingers under Clay's chin and gently lifted the
man's chin so that he could look into Clay's eyes. "It's me. How
can I show up with you on the train, Clay? You're such a sweet and
innocent kid who is going to go to any of the five good colleges
that are vying for you. You're going to heal the world and save
the children."

"Yeah, I did." Clay knew how he looked now to Ryan. All his lofty
aspirations, dashed like waves on the rocks because someone had to
sacrifice for the rest of the family.

"Maybe you will, one day."

"Don't mock me," said Clay.

"I'm not mocking you. You inspire me, Clay. With you, I remember
what it felt like to be so idealistic once again." Ryan sighed.
"Would you want me on the train, Clay, if you know who I really
am? No, don't speak. I'm not the traveling businessman I told you.
I'm a negotiator, not the sort you see on TV defusing hysterical
kidnappers, but the real deal. I was in North Carolina four years
ago because I was suffering from a near collapse."

"What?" Clay couldn't understand what Ryan was saying.

"I was held captive by some South American drug cartel for two
months before I met you, and the experience... well, those fuckers
knew some really painful forms of hospitality. The things they did
to my mind, fuck, just be grateful that you never experienced half
the things I experienced, Clay. I was there in North Carolina, the
most boring place in the world, or so I thought. I wanted a dull
and boring place to calm my mind and get back my old self. And I
met you." The memory coaxed a smile from him. "You were teaching
special kids - volunteering, my God, do people still do that shit?
You were so sincere, charming, innocent, and kind that I was drawn
to you right away. And it was good. You healed me, Clay. Being
with you - I felt alive."

"Then why did you leave?" Clay asked finally.

"I've killed people. I lie and bullshit and take dishonesty and
insincerity to the extreme, hell, I made it an artform. Can you
accept this part of me, Clay? Maybe one day you will start
questioning what we had and finally decide that you and I are one
big lie. I'd rather walk away than to see what we had die. Yes, I
was such a fool back then. I did reach the station, just in time
to see the train pull away. I told myself, hey, I missed the train
and you'll forget me soon enough." He exhaled a tight breath. "I
should've stayed and fight for us, should I?"

Clay buried his face in his hands, if only for a brief second. "I
don't know. You can't just tell me these things and expect me to -
"

"To forgive me and ask me to stay?" finished Ryan bitterly. "I
probably don't deserve your forgiveness."

"It's like a dream. I tried so hard to remind myself that I
idealized you. You can't be as good as I remember. I tried to tell
myself that I'm a self-absorbed idiot who should move on."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. It's not your fault entirely." Clay stood up. He
smiled weakly at Ryan's puzzled expression. And then he kissed
Ryan.

He wanted just a gentle peck on the lips. Yet the moment his lips
touched Ryan's, his lips parted in a silent sigh, a sigh that Ryan
breathed in before their parted lips finally touched. Clay closed
his eyes, his senses on overload even as his mouth welcomed Ryan's
tongue, and he felt as if he was drowning in Ryan's embrace,
Ryan's kiss, everything Ryan, until the world disappeared and
there was only Ryan, holding him, teasing him with that playful
tongue and naughty fingers that caressed his neck, collar bone,
and down his stomach. Maybe he had the right to be weak just this
once, to let his weariness melt away with each button on his shirt
that Ryan unfastened. Just once, just five seconds, maybe ten. And
that was enough.

He sighed, not wanting to end it, but end it he had to. He gently
but firmly placed his fingers at each side of Ryan's jaw and
pushed the other man's lips off his. Ryan whispered a mute refusal
and moved back to capture Clay's lips, but Clay turned his head
away. With a low groan of disappointment, Ryan let Clay go.

"It's better than I remembered," Ryan said, his voice still rough
from desire.

What a trite, even lame attempt at compliment. Did Ryan say that
he was a king of bullshit? Maybe he was, because Clay was touched
by that compliment. "It's okay," he said. "It's good and you know
it," Ryan retorted. "Maybe you'll admit it when you're a little
less pissed off at me."

"Well, I'm glad I kissed you," Clay admitted.

Ryan bit his lower lip and scowled at Clay, but his mood didn't
last long. "You know, let's forget that report. Why don't we just
skip this and go to the pub and get ourselves roaring fucking
drunk?"

Clay looked at his monitor. He really didn't want to go back to
the report. Oh what the fuck, he probably wouldn't see Ryan again
after tonight. He'd deal with Yick tomorrow. Tonight, he'd go out
with Ryan. Maybe, tonight, they'd have fun.




THREE

"So, Ryan, you're a computer salesman?" Kimmel asked.

"Lay off the questioning, Kimmel," Ryan told her pleasantly. "Like
you, I like Clay. I won't do anything to hurt him."

"Oh, so you like him?" Trenyce asked. "How did you meet him?"

"Four years ago. We just met, had a thing going, and parted ways.
Now I'm back."

"Wow," Trenyce said. She tapped an elegantly manicured nail on
Ryan's arm. "Don't mind Kimmel. She's seen poor Clay gotten hurt
by lousy jerks, and she's a little protection over the poor baby.
Clay never talked about you. I'm surprised why he should keep a
handsome dish like you a secret."

"Because, Trey, I hurt him badly," Ryan admitted candidly. "I
don't believe in coincidences. When I met him again, I'm not going
to waste my chance telling him how wrong I am and how I want him
back. But it's his decision to take me back or not. I hope he
will, but I won't push it if he doesn't."

"I like him," Trenyce told Kimmel. "He seems like the sensitive
sort." To Ryan, she asked, "You want some advice on how to win
Clay back?"

"Oh please," Kimmel said. "Trenyce, you're the last person to
dispense love advice. And you, Ryan, I don't know. You look like a
man with many secrets. Too many, I'd bet."

"And you, Kimmel, are astute indeed. But I'm a master at making
people like me. I dare you two to let me try with you."

Kimmel crossed her arms and frowned at Ryan defiantly. Trenyce
looked intrigued. "Well, ladies, looks like the karaoke machine is
unattended. Let's abuse it, shall we?" Ryan suggested.

"Ha! I hate karaoke," Kimmel declared.

Trenyce smiled as Ryan pulled Kimmel up to her feet. "Come on, La
Locke, a little public humiliation won't hurt anybody."



"What happened to Kimmel?" Clay asked Ryan when they finally
stopped laughing and running. "She let it rip. I don't think I'll
ever listen to Midnight Train To Georgia without seeing a very
drunk Kimmel throwing her blouse to the audience and dancing in
her bra and underwear."

"I don't think she'll be drinking or singing the karaoke anytime
soon," Ryan said. "She will hate me in the morning. Trenyce and
Vanessa will love me though. Did you see the looks on Rickey,
Charles, and Ruben's faces when Kimmel did her Gladys Knight
striptease?" He howled with laughter.

"You're still very good at making people laugh and like you," Clay
said.

"Dare I hope you will do the same?"

"I - "

Clay's words were drowned by the loud blast of a van's horn. A van
stopped beside them and a man leaned out the window. "Hey, Ryan,
you asshole, you're supposed to be at your post and alert me when
the office is unoccupied instead of running off like this. I've to
break into the office myself. Jeremy will have your ass on a plate
in the morning."

"Don't worry Billy. I forgot all about the assignment."

"That's even worse!"

"Nope, it's not that bad," Ryan told the man. "Go home, call it a
night, see you in the morning."

"Who's that?" Clay asked when the van had left.

"Billy. I'm supposed to let him know when the office is empty so
that he can come in and switch the computer. The computer that I'm
supposed to fix... well, let's just say something went wrong
somewhere and somehow your Yuck got his hands on one of my
employer's computers. Needless to say, we need that computer
back."

"Oh. So was all that talk about you and me...?"

"I forgot everything when I saw you," Ryan said. "I'm even more
self-absorbed than you when it comes to my messy love life. Look,
I have to go back to your office now and clear up some loose ends.
Reconnect the computer, makes sure it looks as much as the old
computer, et cetera. It's best you don't be near me in case
something goes wrong and you get involved."

"Okay," Clay said simply.

"Look, I'll see you in the morning. Where do you live?"

Clay hesitated, then told Ryan.

"I'll see you in the morning." And then, Ryan kissed Clay - one
perfect minute of passionate, perfect kiss - and then he was
running down the street, yelling at Clay words Clay couldn't
really make out.

Clay wondered whether he would see Ryan again. His heart was
already starting to break. Yet, for now, he failed to see how he
wouldn't have wanted this night in any other way.



Seven twenty three. He should leave for work. Clay's feet refused
to obey. He looked around him, swearing that if Ryan didn't show
up, he would personally hunt down the man and kill him this time.
He would - he would - he would open his arms when Ryan ran down
the street from around the corner, pause to stare at him in -
what? disbelief? - before dashing like a madman to collide int
Clay.

"I thought you'll be late," Clay whispered when they came up for
air.

"Never again," Ryan answered.

This time, it was much longer before they came up one more time
for air.
