Safe and Sane

Eli'd taken the phone call on the way home from a last minute job. He'd invited Jason over without thinking much about it, grabbed a shower and then snagged a couple of beers from the fridge. They were already opened and waiting on the living room table when he went to the door, barefooted, and answered Jason's knock.

"Hey, c'mon in. Make yourself comfortable, mi casa, et cetera."

Eli had things he wanted to talk about. He wasn't a great cook, so he didn't make a fancy meal. That would have set off all kinds of alarms for Lane anyway, probably.

He did get right in the shower when he got home from work. He was clean and smelling of shampoo and soap when Lane got home. Sprawled out on the couch mindlessly flipping through stations, but he was clean.

He looked up when Lane stepped into the room, smiled and sat up. "Hey."

Jason had made it two steps through the door when he'd caught sight of Gale eating ice cream and his stomach protested so audibly at being left out, that he gave it a pat. "Fuck that, we've got cupcakes." Cake beat ice cream, every time. Pie beat them both, but cupcakes were like some hybrid super cake, and Jason had been good.

He'd worked, finished up the mobile he'd been working on for the baby and cleaned the house even. Okay, he'd cleaned up the worst of his mess from working. There had been a vacuum involved.

IT COUNTED.

As a reward, there were cupcakes, and pulling a half-gallon of milk out of a paper bag, he flipped open the box just to look. Voyeurism. Very underrated.

"Where have you been all my life?"

Filming had been delayed -- and then canceled -- by technically difficulties. It was the second time in a week and rumors were starting to circulate that if the problems continued, shooting would continue through the new year and maybe even further.

Rupert had escaped the set quietly after confirming he was no longer needed for the day. He was now settled in at the club for the afternoon, a bin of envelopes at his feet and the remnants of lunch on the table at his elbow.

"Aww, isn't that sweet," he said. And then shuddered.

Friday night in Sal's was always a busy night. This Friday was a touch busier than most, because there was no chance in hell Lin was playing a set on his own when Carl was in town, and if Carl was playing, Lin was going to move heaven and earth to get him a good crowd. Didn't take much, a word here and there in the right ears, spread around the bar, the club, onwards and through.

It meant that Friday night was busier than most, but the crowd was in a damn fine mood. Mellow and easy, celebrating the end of the week with a couple of beers, a couple fingers of Jack, or just a couple of guys down one end of the room, playing guitars and singing together like their voices had shaped the songs together from their birth.

For some of the songs, that much was even true.

It was a party. It was a costume party. There was food, there were traditional Halloween games- bobbing for apples, a place to carve jack o' lanterns and way, way too much candy and junk food. A place to dance. There were also a few open play rooms, set up for groups or exhibitionism, but that wasn't the focus of the night.


There were awards for the best costume, for the scariest, the funniest, the most creative, the sexiest.

It was one of those days that made people wonder if fall really was arriving. October, yes, but it was balmy, warm, and bright, with a fresh breeze.

The cafe was making the most of the late warmth, with tables available outside, and a selection of chilled confectionery available at the counter along with the usual muffins and cookies. The cheesecakes were proving particularly popular. And creamy.

Eli did the dishes, stepped up behind the couch and pushed still damp, slightly soapy hands down under the collar of Lane's shirt and down over his chest. "Boo."

It was a little cooler- highs in the low seventies, lows in the hight 40s- so the doors were closed this week and they were doing an assortment of teas. Despite it being newly September, not even Fall properly yet, there were pumpkins scattered throughout the cafe.

Met Jason @ club. Going out for beer.

Eli had come straight to the club from work. He'd brought a duffle bag with a change of clothes and took advantage of the showers to scrub off the grit of work and to cool down. So he was more or less relaxed as he wandered down the hall and went to grab a soda from behind the bar, hair still damp, jeans, unlogo-ed dark green t-shirt and no shoes. He looked across the room, spotted Jason, and called, "Get you anything while I'm back here?"

Lane found Eli a little after the demo, coming around and biting the back of his neck, arms going around his waist.

"Hi, handsome."

Who: Jon, David, Max, Anita, Eli, Ian, Miles, Beth, Bobby, Angel, Brae
When: Today, Demo
What: Chat
Where: Demo Lounge
Notes: If anyone wants to play off the demo, feel more than free.


( Aim Log )

The phone behind the bar was ringing. Chris waited a second to make sure Ian and Helen weren't going to show up and take it, then hauled out of his chair to answer it. "This is the Power Company." He paused. "No, not the electric company, the power." He was clearly cut off, and he stopped with a bemused expression. "No ma'am, I'm sure we're not responsible for your." He was cut off again, sighed heavily and said, "This is a *sex* club. Unless you're interested in being beaten and fucked, I don't need your home address." The click of her hanging up was audible from several feet away from the phone.

It was a Monday evening.

And there was cake. A lot of cake. Some pizzas. Some music playing in one of the lounges.

It was just a nice, quiet evening.

Lane flopped on the couch. He then put his legs in Eli's lap and handed over a bag of chips, saying, almost idle sounding, "You know, I could really do with having your cock in my mouth."

Like he was craving a burrito or something.

Sunday Night.

Pride had been going strong all weekend, but Sunday night things were just starting to ramp down in the city, and up in the club. The doors were propped open, the lights were blazing inside and outside there were strings of decorative rainbow lights wrapped around the security lamp posts.

The main lounge had elements of the club's parade float scattered about - leather bondage and roses, barbed wire twisted into pretty shapes and hung out of reach, the odd balloon (or inflated, colorful condoms) floating about the floor and furniture. The music wasn't loud, but for once it wasn't nearly inaudible.

The bar was open, and there was an actual bartender behind it. There were snacks (healthy and not), drinks (alcoholic and not), and the rooms to the scening rooms were all standing open along the halls. The single tail demo room had been cleared out and turned into a dance floor, that was plenty big enough for whoever wanted to be there -- and dimmer lights, and music that was easy to dance to.

There were condoms and lube in cut crystal candy bowls sitting about, reminders about safety and not driving - or playing- drunk. It was bright, festive, celebratory, and very much 'devil may care, as long as you're being safe', people around to make sure things stayed safe, and members who knew how to handle themselves safely or they wouldn't have been members to begin with.

The party, just this once, was a party.

The temperature Wednesday had dropped rapidly - from nearly 90 to right around 50 by the time the munch started, and the promise to drop below 40 overnight. The coffee shop doors were closed, hot chocolate and steamed drinks were selling well, and there was discussion about steamy kinksters amongst the employees. There was also the requisite bets - this week about how long it would be before someone suggested an inappropriate, dangerous use for fire.

Guess who.

Lane had gotten pizza, turned on a game, then flopped down on the couch, waiting for Eli.

When Eli got home, Lane nudged the box towards him, leaned into him, and yawned. "How are you, baby?"