Page 2 of Good Friends
What’s that saying about giving thanks for unanswered prayers?
In this case, it was definitely true.
Once dinner ended and they said their good-byes, Ron offered Porter a hug.
“Thanks, again,” Ron whispered in his ear before ending their embrace.
And Porter didn’t miss how Ivan glanced at Ron first, receiving a subtle nod from him before going in for his own hug.
“Congratulations again,” Porter told Ivan, blinking away the sudden and surprising prickle of unshed tears stinging his eyes. As he stepped back, he forced a smile. “I probably will take you up on your offer,” he told Ron. “To make it down your way to get introductions.”
“Any time. Just call or text me.”
“Thanks.”
He watched them head off across the courtyard toward their room, Ron holding Ivan’s hand and leading the way.
Donner, another friend of Porter’s, walked over to say hi. “Who were they?” he asked after they hugged hello.
Porter sighed. “A missed opportunity,” he said.
“What?” Donner asked.
Then again, with all the crazyness—and the babies—this looked like it had, in fact, worked out for the best for all involved. Those were two insanely happy men, right there.
Porter genuinely felt thankful Ivan had found someone who not only loved him, but who felt eager and willing to take care of him and help him through his old and obviously painful emotional issues.
“Nothing,” Porter said. “What are you up to tonight? Nothing good, I’m sure,” he teased.
Donner grinned. “Asshole. I’m arranging a gangbang for a birthday bottom looking to get himself ruined tonight. Guy’s hubby is a friend of mine. Want in? Or is Gavin finally back and he’s got dibs on you this weekend?”
Donner didn’t know the latest. Hell, no one did, because Porter hadn’t talked about it.
And he wouldn’t talk about it. That’s not how he rolled. He kept his private shit private.
Porter glanced back and spotted Ron and Ivan disappearing into their second-floor room.
“You know what?” Porter said. “Why the hell not? Not doing anything else tonight.”
* * * *
That’s how, an hour later, Porter found himself sitting in a comfortable armchair in a second-floor double suite, his boots resting on the back of a naked subbie boy who knelt on his hands and knees on the floor in front of him, and with a couple of fingers of Jack Daniel’s over ice in a small plastic cup in his hand.
Porter was currently watching three guys taking on the birthday bottom, a guy probably in his late thirties or early forties, not bad-looking, but not his usual type, either. Two guys plowed the bottom’s ass while the man got face-fucked by a third.
Porter hadn’t decided if he was going to fully join the party yet or not. He’d accepted Donner’s offer with every intention of getting in there and getting him some, at least to get a blowjob, but apparently his cock wasn’t really into it tonight.
He also wasn’t interested in pushing rope in front of a bunch of witnesses, either. His ego had already taken enough of a hit that evening.
Besides, impromptu gangbangs with nearly unknown strangers weren’t his scene, personally. Although when he’d accepted the invite, he’d thought maybe this activity would be exactly what he needed to take his mind off Ivan for good.
Or, at least for the evening.
Not just Ivan, but Gavin, too.
What was particularly stupid was that, until tonight, he hadn’t had any trouble finding himself some action when he wanted to, much less have any trouble performing once said action was obtained. Although he hadn’t fucked anyone except Ivan since Gavin left, he’d just gotten a few blowjobs from guys he’d scened with.
However, now he kept thinking back to that night with Ivan.
