Michael held his breath as someone entered the opposite booth.
He hoped that by not breathing, moving, or even blinking, they'd realize that no one was there and leave. It worked the past several times, so why not once more? And besides, it wasn't as if his friends knew that he was chickening out. If he could just hold on for another half-hour, he'd be given his freedom and a generous payout for going through with the bet: a bet that he had made and barely remembered.
Honestly, it should have been illegal to hold someone accountable for their promises when they were face down on the floor after downing a single shot of of 151 proof rum. After this was all said and done, Michael swore he would never drink hard liquor ever again.
With a hand held to his mouth, Michael sat crouched over in a far corner, barely safe from anyone willing to get down on their knees and peer through the hole in the wall. Thankfully the room was dimly lit, and so he'd been able to trick the three or so other men by being completely still and silent. It amazed him that it actually worked, and kept working. Besides, there were other booths filled with eager and hungry mouths far talented than his own; it wasn't as if they left empty-handed.
Like the others before him, the man in the other booth hadn't caught on to the 'game' yet, too busy unzipping and shimmying his pants down over his thighs to notice that he may have been alone. He was being as quiet as Michael was being, other than the barely audible groan he gave that made Michael's eye twitch. Then, with confidence, the guy stepped up to the hole and politely slipped two fingers through.
Michael merely looked at them, his dry eyes hurting with the need to blink. The guy had nice nails, Michael had to give him that. They were clean and neatly trimmed like he'd gotten a manicure before coming over, though the rough pads of his fingers looked like they belonged to someone familiar with physical labor. They curled as though trying to entice Michael to touch, but Michael held his ground. He liked giving head, but only to people he'd actually held a conversation with. A curse, he reasoned, and one of many reasons why he stayed far away from establishments like this. He never judged anyone for seeking their pleasures, but this was not for him.
After a minute of awkward waiting, the guy withdrew with a sigh. Michael felt bad. He started to open his mouth and say that he never meant to hurt anyone's feelings when the guy abruptly rapped his knuckles on the wall. Michael jerked his head back in response, his eyebrows hitched up. Did he think that Michael hadn't seen him? Once the knocking stopped, the fingers returned and resumed patiently waiting. Michael closed his eyes in the hopes that he'd soon awake from this nightmare. This was so humiliating. And unfair. Hugely unfair, even.
"Hey..."
Michael jumped.
Oh fuck, the guy was trying to talk to him!
"I know you're in there."
The voice was low and playful, the embodiment of patience and manliness and also... familiar? Where had Michael heard him before? He stared, waiting for the guy's next move, and as much as he tried to fight it, he couldn't resist a swallow. The sound was thunderous in the booth. The guy had to have heard it.
The fingers waggled in agreement. Damn it.
"I need this bad, please don't ignore me."
Michael slowly lowered his hand, his eyes wide. He did indeed know that voice. It belonged to Gary, one of his closest friends since the first grade. Michael opened his mouth, ready to ask a million questions like:
' What are you doing here? How do you know about this place? Since when did you start getting your dick sucked by mysterious men? Aren't you supposed to be three hours away visiting family right now? What the actual hell? '
But nothing came out.
The depth of their situation slammed into him as Gary cleared his throat and tried coaxing him again. It was the same voice he used when he wanted Michael to do something nice for him like picking him up from the gym or covering a lunch bill. Michael almost began to instinctively move. He'd do anything for Gary. He loved the guy. But that was the whole problem.
Gary had no idea it was him, and if Michael were to give himself away by speaking, their friendship would go up in smoke. Gary, as far as he was aware, was straight. If he knew that Michael knew about his activities, then where would that leave them? Gary would probably beg him not to tell the others (which Michael would never ever do to anyone) and never look at him the same way again. Not only because he knew Gary's deepest secret, but that Michael had only found out because he was camping at a damn glory hole.
The whole thing was a mess! What were the odds that they'd meet like this? It should have been hilarious.
"Hello?"