Chapter Ten – Hit Me with Your Best Shot
Jamie didn't feel like hooking up anymore. Wasn't that a first for him? Not that he didn't have Cottontail now and performing for his subscribers did take plenty of sexual energy out of him, but those were just the reasons he offered himself for lack of any better explanation.
Although getting on stage and jamming with other musicians had been life-changing – as far as his life as a musician was concerned – something kept bothering him, like an insect buzzing in his ear. Soon enough, he'd have to veer his livestream audience toward a new Jamie, one who was more open in his sexual preferences than he actually was. But his subscribers were there because he liked dick, and it felt like he was betraying them.
He straightened up from his supine position and twiddled his thumbs. After all, who said that he had to change the way his livestream sessions went? He could play the pansexual or whatever Arthur was suggesting outside of that particular source of revenue he had set up for himself. How exactly remained a topic for him to explore.
Since he had time until his shift at the coffee shop and had done almost everything else he needed to do for the day, he found himself with time on his hands. This was the time he usually used for hooking up, he realized. Only that, as he had just realized earlier, he was in no mood for it.
What he was in the mood for was messing a bunny up, but that wasn't possible because the asshole was a guy dressed up in a pink suit, one who wouldn't make an appearance in the light of day. Like a vampire. Although not one who got off on sucking blood but something else.
Jamie palmed his cock through his shorts. Because of his highly active sex life, he masturbated considerably less compared to the average guy, and most of his jerk-off sessions happened on livestream. Whoever was hiding under that fluffy suit couldn't be called particularly sexy or handsome. Jamie doubted the guy was as ugly as he insisted he was, although he couldn't pinpoint what made him think that. Maybe it was that voice, that pretense that drew him in. For the sake of making it big, Jamie was about to put on another mask, and he found that similarity of character reflected in his livestream partner's actions. Was that truly enough for them to find common ground?
When had he ever thought before if he was capable of sharing something with his random hookups? Not ever. Even the response he was giving himself seemed hesitant. No, not hesitant. Fluid. Just as he was supposed to present himself for the sake of gaining a larger audience as a musician.
He realized what was really bothering him. For once in his life, he wanted his sexual life to be private, although it was obvious to any outside observer that he hadn't cared about such a thing until now. Jamie the musician wanted to be appreciated for his music, not some fake persona. It didn't get any realer than when he played his drums. Had he made his own situation more complicated than he needed to by meeting Arthur Kallis under such strange circumstances?
Go with the flow, his rational thoughts told him. His gut was a different matter. With a shrug, Jamie pulled his old friend from the confines of his boxers, ready to rub one off and enjoy a bit of decompression. His phone went off, but he didn't bother to put his cock away. Unless the caller asked for a video call, he could just remain as he was. And even then, no one would see what was happening below his waist.
He grinned as he saw the caller ID. "I was thinking about you," he said without any preamble.
"I don't believe you."
"Why not?"
A short pause followed. "Because you're usually too busy hooking up to think of other guys than your current victim."
"Victim?" Jamie snorted. "Why are you so sure that you know me so well?"
"I've watched you. From afar." There was something wistful in how the guy said those words. They did something funny to Jamie's stomach. Whenever he got with someone, the other's worries and anxieties, among other things, took center stage. Before he jumped in bed with those hookups, he was the best therapist the campus of Sunny Hill had ever seen. Everything happening with this strange dude was different than whatever he had experienced with anyone else so far.
"Why are you calling?" Jamie asked, one hand on his cock. He began stroking it slowly.
"I wanted to ask you about your wishes and dreams."
"Gosh, you sound like someone trying to sell me life insurance. By the way, I don't find it sexy at all."
"What would you find sexy?"
"Take pics of your dick."
"What? Like right now?"
"We're not getting any younger, right?" Jamie joked.
"All right," Cottontail said with a sigh. "Let me get myself at a good angle."
"All angles are cool when it comes to taking dick pics."
"That's not true. My dick is weirder than most."
"You're trying way too hard to appear like you're special."
"I am," Cottontail said, seemingly outraged at being called out on his behavior.
"You forget that I've seen your dick already. Maybe it's a little small," Jamie teased.
"You're keen on destroying my confidence so that you can have your way with me. You shouldn't. Just ask anything of me and I'll do it."
"Show me your face."
"Not that."
"Tell me your name."
"I can't."
"Geez, you're supposed to be an obedient little bunny, and you're only contradicting me all the freaking time."
"I guess that's true."
"Come on," Jamie urged the other, "take those dick pics. When you called, I was already masturbating."
"Really? Why are you lying?"
"How am I lying?"
"You said you were thinking of me."
"The two don't necessarily exclude each other." Jamie gave his cock a long caress and teased the head with his thumb. "I'm sending you pics of my dick so you know I'm not bullshitting you."
"Jamie Vayne, were you masturbating while thinking of me?"
"Don't sound so shocked. We did a lot of naughty things the last time we met. I want to come all over your bunny face again."
"Send me your dick pics first," came a ragged whisper.
"Bunny boy," Jamie drawled, "are you touching yourself right now?"
"Yes. Please, send me pictures of your big hard cock."
Jamie grinned as he snapped shot after shot. He continued to jerk off. "Your turn now."
"I can't," a soft, barely audible cry followed.
"What? Why not? Do it now. At least one."
"You'll laugh."
"No, I won't. I told you; I've seen your dick already."
When he looked at the picture, he understood the cause of Cottontail's embarrassment. The pic showed a spent cock and a smooth belly covered in fresh cum.
"You came from looking at my dick pics?"
"Yes."
"Cool. That's good enough," he said as he focused on the image on his screen. "Here comes the milk, baby."
"Damn, I wish I was by your side, sucking you dry," Cottontail whispered in his ear. "Why is phone sex so hot? I thought it would be lame."
"Not when I'm involved," Jamie said. "Tell me more."
"Your cock is the most beautiful thing I've ever held in my hand. You're so sexy. You're the best, Jamie Vayne. Is that good enough for stroking your ego?"
"Sure thing it is." Jamie groaned as his cock erupted, making cum land all over his chest. With a satisfied grin, he snapped a selfie. "Here are the fruits of your labor, bunny boy."
"I am impressed," Cottontail replied in his most formal tone.
Back to square one with the guy. But Jamie enjoyed the teasing and everything else. Even if this guy was behind Xpress, shitposting all the day long, or rather especially if he was that asshole, Jamie would have a hell of a good time teasing him.
"Bye for now," Cottontail added and ended the conversation without waiting for Jamie's reply.
Cool as a cucumber, barely after coming like a hose for Jamie's sake only minutes ago. He took another good look at the pic he had been sent. That guy had to jerk off only once in a blue moon, because that was one fine load. Who knew he could store so much in his hairless balls?
Jamie enlarged the picture. From the angle it had been taken, part of a college dorm room was visible. He hadn't thought of it before, but there were different ways he could gather intel on the insufferable ass. That pic could be a veritable fountain of clues. He would examine it at length later, because now he needed a shower and a well-deserved nap.
***
"The problem with you is you aren't willing to go out of your comfort zone."
Big bro had no idea how much he'd gone out of his comfort zone, dressing up as a bunny and blowing a guy on livestream meant for an adult audience.
"What's that supposed to mean? I do that a lot."
"No. You're in denial. You sit at your little desk, writing your little pieces that no one wants to read."
"How about you enlighten me? Give me an idea. How am I supposed to get out of my comfort zone?"
"That's easy. You need to start following Jamie around outside the campus. He's a wannabe musician. What's he doing when he's not chasing broken hearts on campus? Who does he fool around with? Does he go to parties with hookers and cocaine?"
"He doesn't seem like the type," he said dryly. A part of him wanted to stand up for Jamie, and he disliked it. He was supposed to be the ruthless reporter, not fall… no, no, no – no one was going there.
"You don't know what type he is because you're not doing your homework properly," came the acidic reprimand.
"Okay, fine, I understand. I'm going to follow him outside the campus. Now get off my back."
He could barely wait to hear the door opening and closing after his brother had left. His face stretched into a grin. After all, this order wasn't so bad. It was an opportunity. He'd get to spend more time following Jamie around, getting to know him better. Like a creepy stalker. Actually, that wasn't such a good thing if he thought about it, but right now, it was the best he could do.
And big bro had absolutely no idea that he was sitting on a bunch of dick pics from Jamie. Sure, some of that stuff could easily be found on dating apps, but these had been taken with him in mind. It was easy to dismiss as vanity, but damn if he didn't feel proud for making Jamie come while thinking of him.
***
"Did I come at a bad time?" Jamie looked around at the empty club and the chairs stacked on the tables. Melinda had given him this contact, telling him to drop by at any hour so that they could play some music.
"What? It counts only when it's with an audience cheering you on?" She offered him a sly grin along with her extended hand.
He shook it like he would a guy's, because that sort of thing seemed the norm with Melinda.
"I can't say that it doesn't help. I'm used to adoring fans," he replied with a grin of his own.
"Adoring fans? Are you that big a star? Funny," she said while looking at the ceiling as if searching for answers, "but I haven't heard your name before. I must have been living under a rock. Come on, let's hop on stage. It's time for you to be put through the wringer. Know that I won't go easy on you."
"Okay," he said and followed her.
From there, he could take in the large empty room.
"You showed me last time that you know how to play music for the sake of music. But just in case I was mistaken and simply too smitten by your charms, let's put this theory of mine to the test. Also, consider it mercy on my part, because I will penalize any mistake you make. This isn't your average talent show, bud," she warned him with the same knowing grin on her face.
"Okay, hit me with your best shot," Jamie said, shrugging his shoulders.
"Nice that you mentioned that. Great song, awesome for the drums. Let's start." Melinda beckoned him with two fingers. "I hope you're ready."
"For this, I was born ready."
***
In hindsight, he shouldn't have accepted that third concoction, the one that seemed fit for being served at the devil's table, but after spending two thrilling hours playing amazing music with Melinda, he felt like he had earned his pair of dark wings.
They stumbled out of the club, laughing and leaning against each other.
"Hey, hey, easy there," he said, catching her before she ended up plastered to the sidewalk. "Where do you live? Like the gentleman that I am, I feel compelled to take you home."
"You, a gentleman?" Melinda snickered and grabbed him by the front of his jacket. Her kohl-lined eyes were shining in the streetlights.
She was an attractive woman, and Jamie let the thought move through his head, without stopping it. However, when Melinda moved in for something more, he pulled back a smidge.
"Committed?" Melinda asked. Even drunk, that girl seemed sharp as a tack.
Jamie shook his head.
"Ah, damn." Melinda's beautiful mouth stretched into a large smile. "Playing for the boys, then? Please say 'yes', because the only option I got left is that you don't find me attractive, and I tend to be a horrible sad drunk when I get bad news like that."
"I'm gay, yes," Jamie replied, even though his words were just as slurred as hers, and anyone listening to them wouldn't have thought they were having a serious conversation.
Melinda patted his chest and smirked. "Good for you, then. You don't mind taking me home, though, right?"
"As I said," Jamie said while wrapping one arm around her shoulders, "I am a gentleman. I can't help wanting to save a damsel in distress."
Melinda guffawed. "This sort of distress is the best I'm getting in on the regular."
"And you've survived this so far? My liver feels like it needs a long vacation already." He thumbed through his phone to call an Uber.
He looked up and down the street, a strange feeling of apprehension making the back of his head prickle. Like he was being watched. Great, Melinda's special cocktail was making him paranoid, on top of everything else.
***
Who was that woman? Jamie had entered the club and remained there for hours, although the place didn't seem open for business. And after all that time, he had emerged with that woman hanging on his arm. They seemed to be having fun, sharing whatever they were sharing, history in the making, most likely.
The bitter taste in his mouth remained even after taking another sip of his soda. So, Jamie was playing for both teams, and wasn't that exactly the sort of information he had been searching for? A chink in Jamie's armor. Something that would show his brother that he was perfectly capable of identifying a mark's weaknesses and then expose them in writing.
He massaged his chest. As far as Jamie Vayne was concerned, he was lacking in yet another department. It was such a bad deal, what he had gotten himself into. His brother would have a laugh at his expense if he knew even the half of it.
Regardless. He needed to pick himself up, dust himself off, and tell himself that a handjob didn't make him and Jamie Vayne livestream boyfriends or anything close to that. One thing he could do was burn that rabbit suit and never contact Jamie again. He could change his phone number, and that would be it.
But no. That meant running away from problems, and since this was one he had created on his own, it would make him the biggest coward in the universe. No, he would continue getting close to Jamie and finding the weak points he had that could be exploited later. The thought of making the guy suffer seemed to make some of his pain fade away.
He was so damn stupid. He pressed his head against the wheel and remained like that for a while. With a sigh, he kicked the engine into gear and drove away. At twenty-one, he was a bit too old for pangs of unrequited love, wasn't he?
***
Was it all a lie, Jamie Vayne? How could you do that to all the gay boys of Sunny Hill who have been under you or wished to be? Dear guys, delete this fake charmer's contact from your phones, pay him no more mind, forget he's ever been around!
Don't get us wrong; you can be bi all you want, but you should be upfront about it. In case you haven't gotten it by now, we caught the famous mender of broken gay hearts – his words, not ours – playing a different instrument, in the person of an attractive young lady who seemed just as interested in returning the favor and making it a duet.
If you're that much into vanilla-flavored ice cream, Jamie Vayne, just stick to it!
TBC