A short, nasty (I hope!) gay male piece from me this time. This submission serves two purposes, the first of which is to get me 5 points in the survivor contest here on Lit, the second is to test the waters to see if those of you who read this kinda story would like me to do more. I kept it short, omitting details, purely because this is, as I said, a tester to see how it's received.
If you like this vignette and would like me to do more, and longer, pieces, let me know. I'd like feedback, which can be delivered in public comments below, by PM in the Lit forums, or via email. If you want a response to feedback or have a specific question or request then email is prolly best.
As ever, I hope you enjoy my work and, please, if there are any errors in the text, forgive me.
GA – Playa del Carmen, Mexico – 6th July 2012.
Rob had always been strange, at least in my view, it seemed to me that he lacked the capacity to moderate his behaviour, not that he was immoral or psycho or anything like that, there were just times that he didn't know when to draw the line. The DVD night was an example of one of those times.
It started well enough. Rob had invited me to his flat to watch some football on television. There were three of us there, Rob, myself, and another man, a friend of Rob whom I'd seen in the pub a few times. I knew him by sight, to nod to, but we'd never mixed socially.
Rob brought out the beers and bowls with the obligatory nibbles and we settled down in the comfortable living room of the flat and waited for the pre-match preamble to end. I chatted to Alex and discovered he worked with Rob as a graphic designer, that he was twenty-five, like me, and that he found Rob a bit odd as well.
"Not in any weird kind of way," Alex said. "But there are times when he just doesn't seem to know when to stop."
I held up a hand. "I know exactly what you mean. I sometimes think he does it on purpose, like he enjoys shocking people, seeing how far he can push them."
Then Rob returned from his visit to the toilet.
"All set?" he asked, rubbing his hands with anticipation when he sat down. He leaned forward and scooped up a beer from the coffee table. "Here's to a good game," he said and raised the bottle in a toast.
Alex and I muttered appropriately and saluted with upraised drinks.
The game was dire. England won, but only just. The three of us sat there, arranged in an open square. Rob, as host, sat opposite the television on a two-seater sofa of seemingly ubiquitous Norwegian design. On either side, flanking Rob's seat were two chairs of the same pattern; single seat lounge chairs in which I and Alex reclined comfortably. The coffee table sat low and convenient in front of us, the epicentre of the room, while a huge, wall-mounted television hung on its bracket on the wall.
"Well, that was a let-down," Alex said.
Rob shrugged and placed an empty bottle amongst the rest on the coffee table. It was a bit of a squeeze given that nearly all the available surface area was already covered.
"I've got a DVD we could watch," he said.
His nonchalant air should have been a warning to me. I'd seen Rob like that before, playing it all cool while some ulterior motive lurked.
"Sounds good," said Alex, while I shrugged half-heartedly.
At first I couldn't believe what I was seeing, and then I remembered it was Rob.
"What do you think?" Rob asked, eyes gleaming, as the television screen was filled with the lurid image.
"Uh ..." Alex responded with his mouth hanging slack.
"What the fuck is this, Rob?" I asked.
"Good quality porn of the amateur variety," Rob replied, grinning.
The room fell silent except for the exaggerated groans and sighs emanating from the speakers. I wondered briefly what to do. Should I stick it out and watch the filth or should I just say my goodbyes and leave?
