Chapter One: Scarred
Wedged in the crowd in Times Square below the CNN big screen, next to the tower on top of which Anderson Cooper and Andy Cohen were cavorting and waving to the crowd, Nick felt Steven Saylor pull him in close. Someone near them was starting the countdown on the ball drop ushering in 2018 early by thirty seconds and others were taking up the chant, although when they got closer they'd have to readjust to the official time. Saylor was giving Nick a dreamy look, and Nick was sure the man would be kissing him when the ball dropped at midnight. That was OK with Nick.
Saylor, who was the director of the commercial modeling shoot Nick was working on and had obviously been a male model once himself, had been zeroing in on Nick for days. Nick knew the man wanted to fuck him and had brought him up for New Year's in New York from Philadelphia, where they were shooting fashions for a men's magazine at the Barnes Museum, to do that. His aim was to impress Nick with experiencing New Year's in Times Square. It was clear the outing had the intent of taking Nick to a hotel afterward and banging the hell out of him. Nick had decided days ago he'd let that happen. Steven was good-looking, had a great body, had clearly signaled that he was a top, was paying for this trip, and was very useful in networking jobs. More to the point, he was authorizing the checks that paid Nick for this gig and Nick wasn't just a model; he worked as a full-service escort as well.
It was colder than a witch's tit out here despite the "packed together" raucous crowd, and Nick was just as happy that the older man was holding him in a close embrace.
"Look, it's a gay New Year's," Steve called out, directing Nick's gaze up to the top of the CNN tower, where Cooper and Cohen, both having come out gay, a revolutionary declaration in TV coverage, were bantering and nearly cuddling. He then directed Nick's attention over to one of the CNN screens, where, from New Orleans, CNN anchor Don Lemon, also declared gay, was buzzing his recently acknowledged boyfriend on one screen, and where, from Key West, the drag queen Sushi was about to be lowered from the balcony of the Bourbon Street Pub in a mammoth red slipper. It was a revolutionary year in TV coverage for the LGBT community, even if that wasn't being trumpeted by the public.
Saylor's words were slurred. He'd been drinking off and on from a flask he kept hidden from the view of the various security guards around. He'd offered it to Nick, and Nick had taken one swig, but only one, to counteract the arctic temperatures. Saylor had taken far more than one swig.
CNN had, indeed, gone all out on a gay New Year's Eve, and Nick wondered if Steve Saylor had brought them to this area of Times Square on purpose to latch into that. Probably so. Saylor had shown quite a bit of interest in Nick's preferences and even had made clear that he knew that Nick worked for a New York male-only escort service in addition to his modeling. It was evident Saylor had maneuvered Nick to this area of the celebration zone to ensure that Nick knew the context in which the two of them were here.
Ten, nine, eight. The crowd was into the official countdown and the ball was dropping on the Times Tower. At the count of four, Saylor turned Nick to him and brought their faces together. At three they already were kissing—first tentatively, but then, when Nick readily yielded, dueling tongues hungrily. At one, Saylor, emboldened by Nick's submission, took one of Nick's hands and moved it between them, where, through the various layers of clothing, Nick found that the older man had unzipped himself. He moved Nick's hand into his fly and to his dick. Nick didn't balk. He'd already made his decision. He wrapped his hand around the older man's cock. It had nice length and thickness, but it wasn't hard, that being inhibited by the cold temperature and the booze Saylor had been drinking.
Saylor pulled his lips from Nick's and, in a slurred tone, asked, "You going to be good to me tonight?"
Nick answered, "Whatever you want."
Still, twenty seconds into the new year, the two were back into a deep kiss, rocking against each other, and connected by Nick's hand wrapped surreptitiously around Saylor's cock inside his fly. The advertising executive's kiss was passionate and he was breathing heavily. Nick maintained a hold on the dick long enough to establish that he wasn't put off before withdrawing his hand and zipping Saylor up. "Later—and more privately—Tiger," he called out loud enough for Saylor to hear him over the sound of the crowd. They were wedged in so close in the crowd and everyone else was so taken up with his or her own response to the turning of the year that no one had seemed to notice Saylor's forward act.
Pulling out of the kiss at last, Saylor looked down at the smaller, younger, lither male model and said, "I will get you back to Philly for the photo shoot tomorrow, but there's a room at a nearby hotel, and you must be frozen to an ice cube. We'll go to the hotel and—"
"Yes," Nick answered.
"You know what I'm asking?"
"Yes."
"It's not just me, though." Saylor said. "The sponsor of the ads we're shooting. Harvey Williams. He's here, at the hotel. He's seen your portfolio and wants to meet you. It's important to us. He's talking about expanding his ad coverage. More work for us . . . for you. Will you . . .? You'll be compensated well, of course."
"Yes," Nick answered. He needed the job. He'd seen Williams nosing around the Barnes Museum photo shoot. He'd seen the looks the man had given him. And, though Williams was old and was an ugly man, he was in shape—in even better shape than Saylor was, although Saylor had once been a model himself and was still a handsome and trim-bodied man. Williams was more of a solid muscle man. Nick had already become resolved to lay under both men if bidden to do so. He hadn't figured it would be both on the same night, possibly together, however. It wouldn't be a problem. Saylor hadn't been clear on that point, but Nick had done threesomes before—even double penetration when the price was right. The escort agency knew that he would do doubles, for a price. Saylor seemed to have checked out his listing with the escort agency closely. Saylor wasn't directly saying they'd double him, but Nick had learned always to anticipate the most extreme possibilities.
So, what the hell? As much as a few years ago, before Nick had arrived in New York City to make his way in the world, on the Broadway stage, he would have blushed at being so forward about going with another man, let alone two together—although he'd been going with men since he was eighteen. Not many young men trained from their teens to be a male model, dancer, and singer, although Nick's main interest was in becoming a writer. Nick had lain under countless men since his dance master first fucked him. He had kept his sexual side private, though, through his initial college days. But Nick had learned as soon as he began working in New York as a model that sleeping with those who had connections was necessary for getting ahead.
The InterContinental Hotel was just down the street from Times Square, so they managed to stumble there by twenty minutes after midnight, two icicles warmed only by sexual heat, navigating through the crowd being their biggest obstacle. The hotel's Stinger Cocktail Bar and Kitchen was crowded, but Harvey Williams had arrived there before midnight and had secured a table. They ordered drinks but weren't there long enough to finish them.
"The bar closes at one, even though it's New Year's," Williams said when they were settled and had ordered. "I thought they'd stay open later tonight. But we could always find another—"
"And go right back out into the cold?" Nick asked. "Brrr. I don't know if I'm up to that. Mr. Saylor tells me you have a room right here in the hotel."
"Yes, yes, I do. This is where I'm staying. So, you're fine with—?"
"Yes, I'm fine with this," Nick said, giving Williams a smile. Nick had to force himself to do so, as the man's face was on the toad side, but if he was going to do this, he might as well do it right. It was clear that Williams was the man he was supposed to satisfy. They could do it in the dark.
