die die my darling

Into the thick of the Lazarus edits/rewrites. Started by hacking out some of my favorite scenes – die, die my darlings – not easy but once I’d made up my mind, out they went – they were fun to write and have some useable material in them – that material can be dropped into the story at other points – but neither of them really pushed the plot forward enough – so my word count goes from 99,000 to 95,500 which is already more manageable.

Here’s one of the die die my darlings that had to die: (what you may not understand in this scene would make sense in the flow of the whole story. i.e. who are Kate and David?) Although the scene explores Harris’s hereto-normativeness it doesn’t add enough. Scout is a great character, too fleshed-out to be dropped into just one scene and I really have no place for him in the story line at all. What I will keep is the description of the Slap Shott tee-shirt – a superhero I invented and used a few other times & in fact a memory of Slap plays a role in the final climax.

………

Harris stepped out of the shower. Forced himself to stand on his scale and he’d lost another five pounds. Was all this stress melting the fat off him? He put in a load of laundry and padded barefoot to the kitchen while drying himself off. The cupboards weren’t bare but nothing appealed.

He unpacked the C1P. Most of the weight were the individualized coffee sachets.  Following directions he let it make one cup to clean it and then opted to try the Deep Arabian Noir mixture that promised a slightly nutty after taste. The machine was nearly silent and fast. The nutty after taste was more nutmeg than pecan.

He went through the flyers in his mail. Mamma P was having an ‘elopement special’ to celebrate the marriage of Kate and David. There was a photograph of the happy couple eating a pizza with Niagara Falls in the background.

As he recycled the flyers one of them caught his eye for a rib special at Moe Jones Sports Bar. He liked it when these places were within walking distance. Especially when the special was something he really enjoyed.

Now that he was doing laundry more regularly he even had clean clothes to choose from. He hoped his Slap Shott tee wasn’t too obscure a super-hero figure for Moe Jones. True they have probably sold more of the tee than the actual short lived attempt at making a hockey player with super powers into a super hero. The graphic of the hockey masked Slap Shott soaring on his alien powered skates though the air while hitting a puck that was flying into the pained face of a fanged space creature was luridly captivating to Harris.

Moe Jones was fairly busy when he got there. But they did have a booth for two, now one, for him. One that faced the street and not the TV. He ordered a Sopporos. He liked the frosted glass that came with it. He ordered the spare rib special -a full rack of the Mex-spicey with Moe’s thick cut garlic seasoned fries and a Caesar Salad. A man-sized meal like that should put the pounds back pronto.

A young man came to his table. He was glancing at his iPad and then at Harris.

“Candaddy? Sir.”

“Pardon me?” Harris didn’t hear what the man had said.

“Candaddy eleven, to be precise, Sir? I’m Scout.”

“I’m not clear what you mean.” Intrigued Harris nodded to the empty seat across from him. The young man was quite tall. “I’m Harris. Maybe I’ll hear you better from there.”

“Yes, sir. I aim to please.” Scout sat. “You aren’t Candaddy are you? No, now that I get a better look, you are not him. Fuck. Sorry, but I get so sick of these fucking liars.”

“I still don’t understand.”

Harris’s meal arrived. It took up half the table.

“I”ll leave you to your meal, honey.” Scout stood.

“No, that’s fine. Have a beer?”

“Yeah, sure, thanks.” He sat back down. “Screw Candaddy.”

“You were supposed to meet someone here?” Harris started to slice his ribs. They were perfect and fell apart easily.

“We chatted a few times on Bear411.”

“Bear411? Is that like a dating site for gay men.”

“You new in town?”

“I don’t play for that team, as I’ve heard it said.”

“Oh. You sure got the bear look down pat, right down to the ultra-nerd tee-shirt. Slap Shott is an ideal nickname. That is if you’re a spanker.”

“Hardly.” Harris nudged his plate toward Scout. “Fries? More than I can eat.”

“Don’t mind if I do. Let me turn this off first.” He started to turn off his iPad.

“Let’s see the guy you thought I might be?” Harris was curious. He’d never looked at any dating site.

Scout angled it so he could see. There was a face pic with several smaller ones in a double row beside it.

“Just touch one of the thumb nails if you want to see him in his full glory.”

“I looked fifty-four to you?”

“No. But there was something in the face, the eyes really that made me think it could be. Guys lie about everything, age, what they want you know just to get … attention.”

“You mean pretend to be older than they are.” He pushed the iPad in his leather shoulder bag.

“Not often but it wouldn’t surprise me. There are grampa chasers you know. I’m more of a chubby chaser.” Scout looked at Harris’s belly and playfully raised his eyes brows a few times. “You qualify.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

The waiter came to take Harris’s nearly empty plate.

“Another beer?” he asked Scout. He had never had a conversation with a man who he knew to be gay.

“You thinking of switching teams. Or is this bi-curious.”

“Curious mainly.”

The waiter came back with two beers and hand-wipes for Harris to clean his hands.

“That makes two of us.” Scout tipped his bottle at Harris.

“I’ve lived in TO all my life but I’ve never been to Pride you know. It’s like a different world. One that I’m mostly indifferent too. I have no negative feelings.”

“Pride. Can’t remember the last time anyone really enjoyed it. Let’s cut the the chase, Harris. I think what you are really curious about is what its like to have a man suck your cock?”

“No.”

“Maybe you don’t know that yourself. I hooker friend of mine said that if more wives gave more blow jobs most marriages would last longer. Simple as that. Look I fully understand that too.”

Harris waved the waiter over for the bill. He paid and went to the can. Scout was waiting on the street outside.

“I hope I wasn’t too direct for you?”
“Not at all Scout.”

“I don’t live too far from here, if you’re interested.”

“In what?”

“A blow job you ninny.”

Harris wanted to say no but he was curious. Alex had been so focused on one thing it seemed. That one thing being his own cock.

“Okay.” Plus he didn’t feel caught in the compulsion he had when the curse would wash over him.

“I knew it. I live above the bookstore the next block over.” They walked along. “I don’t do this sort of thing often. In fact never.”

“Which thing? Take strangers home or get stood up by Candaddies.”

“Both. But you seem like a nice enough guy. Vanilla can be good sometimes.”

The narrow wooden stairs up to Scout’s place creaked with each step. The dim light barely illuminated the dust and piles of newspapers.

“You’d never sneak in here.” Harris joked.

“Here we are.”

Scout’s place was at the back. It was small. A dresser, a studio couch bed, an armchair, kitchen along the back wall.

“Washroom here.” He opened a door to a tiny room. The sink was almost over the toilet. “Shared shower across the hall.”

Harris sat on the edge of the couch. Scout got on his knees before him and started to undo Harris fly.

“Not like that.” He leaned forward to kiss Scout. Scout was gentle in response. Not full of the eagerness that Alex had.

“Someone likes to kiss.” Still on his knees he was leaning against Harris’s shin. Harris could feel Scout get hard. That got Harris hard.

While Scout toyed with Harris he undid his own pants. He stood up and let them fall to his knees.

“You want some of this first to really get you going?”

Harris reach out and felt the cock. It was longer than he thought Alex’s was but not as thick.

“Go on. You want to taste it don’t you.”

“No, I don’t. Really.” Harris leaned back from the looming cock.

“That’s cool Harris. We’ll take it nice and slow.” He pulled Harris to his feet while pushing his jeans down to his knees as well. They kissed again. Harris felt Scouts cock against his erection and belly.

“Feels like your ready for me though.” Scout dropped to knees and took Harris’s cock in his mouth.

Harris’s erection disappeared almost instantly. Scout worked on it with his tongue but Harris didn’t feel aroused, at all.

“What happened?” Scout stood and pulled up his own pants.

“I guess it wasn’t what I wanted.” Would he have felt any different if it had been Alex on his knees sucking on his cock?

“That’s my super power.” Scout gave a little laugh. “Convincing straight guys that they really are straight. Though usually they take a bit more convincing.”

“I hope I didn’t … you know … lead you on at all.”

“Not as much as I lead myself on. Look everyone brings a secret agenda to these things. I don’t know how many guys really want sex, as much as to feel someone wants them.”

“I suppose. Can I ask you something?” He wanted to know if this was the curse in action.

“I’m disease free if that’s what was cooling your jets. Tested last week. Got papers if you really want to see them.”

“Nothing like that.” It hadn’t even occurred to Harris that he was putting himself in danger. Another of the things he’d have to learn. “Was there really a Candaddy?”
“I showed you his profile.”

“I know that, but were to really supposed to be meeting him at Moe Jones or was that some elaborate pick up line.”

“At Moe Jones? Please. Fuck, you straight guys are a hil-larry-ious. I was really stood up. But I had been waiting for, like half-an-hour, before you showed up. You had the body type, but you are right I didn’t think you were him for a second. I knew at a glance you weren’t some fifty year old daddy top looking for a subservient bottom boy.”

“Thanks.” They walked down to the street together.

“No prob Harris. It was sort of fun anyway. Especially when I realized your nervousness was real and not an act. Now go back to your life and make that bitch of yours suck that beautiful dick of yours.”

Scout turned on his heel and headed off in the opposite direction.

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