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Party Animal

Danny smiled his signature perfect smile, posing stereotypically as the phone sat propped up on a sidewalk trashcan with a timed camera counting down. While it was his 21st birthday, and heā€™d invited nearly twenty people to come out clubbing with him in New York City, he wasnā€™t entirely shocked when everyone had some lame excuse as to why they couldnā€™t come. Victoria was in the middle of watching Yellowjackets and couldnā€™t be bothered to get up off her couch. Taylor was stuck at the airport in Nashville, unable to board his connecting flight due to ā€œinclement weather.ā€ Felicity couldnā€™t find a dog sitter for the night (bullshit), and Kyle just didnā€™t even respond to the text. This was relatively par for the course for poor Danny, whoā€™d gotten all but used to the feeling of his ā€œfriendsā€ ditching him when it was plans of his own.

There were absolutely reasons in their mind as to why going out with Danny was less than an ideal evening: he was a wallflower. Sure, like everyone else in his small town, he had a fake ID. So one would assume that his relative experience in bars would at least teach him something about how to have a good time in one. Unfortunately, this was certainly not the case. Danny was the friend who would get to the bar, order two Long Islands and drunkenly cry for the rest of the night. He couldnā€™t hold his liquor, he couldnā€™t hit a joint without having a fifteen minute coughing spell, his moves on the dancefloor were generously described as ā€œcringe,ā€ he would leave early and complain about it the next day. Yet, without fail, the next weekend would roll about and he would be the first one in line at open. His messy party ways had completely eradicated any chance of an entourage going with him, even on his birthday. Thus, as he posed rather stereotypically on the side of West 17th Street, alone and underdressed for his first gay nightclub of legal age, there was a level of disappointment.

Chelsea was bustling that evening, with stunning people in outrageously skimpy outfits strutting from building to building. All were in their little cliques huddles together until they made it to the doorman, where theyā€™d quickly disperse into the drunken crowd within. Guys like him were the ones standing in line, waiting for someone to leave so they could have a chance of getting in; wallflowers, all of them. Thus, as he finally arrived at the club heā€™d heard so much about on every gay travel blog imaginable, he wasnā€™t shocked to receive a quick look up and down from the bouncer and a head shaking no. Dejected, alone, and not even buzzed, Danny pulled out his phone to call the Uber back to his hotel. That is, until he felt a subtle tap on his shoulder. He sighed and turned around, locking eyes with an unexpected but very welcome sight.

He was tall, maybe 6'4 in a cutoff white tank top, a golden chain hanging from just beneath his nipples. His abs sat like the cobblestones on the street against his chiseled torso, flanked on either side by two huge, vascular arms. His fly was undone, with his thumbs suggestively holding it open. He had a gentle, yet sultry face: perfectly manicured facial hair and sweaty, wavy curls atop his head. He smiled as he leaned against the wall, illuminated brightly by the streetlight above them both.

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ā€œBaby youā€™re not gettinā€™ in looking like that.ā€ He had a thick accent, perhaps Cuban or Dominican, but it rolled off his supple lips like the drool which had begun to slightly dribble down Dannyā€™s jaw. The man smiled and ruffled his hair, getting ready to walk back into the club.

ā€œHey! Uhā€¦ I really like your outfit. You wear it reallyā€¦ really well.ā€ The stud turned back, a small chuckle under his breath.

ā€œThank you baby! I wasnā€™t sure about the chain, but it draws attention to all the right places, am I right?ā€ He ran his large hands over his abs, winking at the salivating 21 year old. ā€œIā€™m Mateo, by the way.ā€ The two shook hands, Danny barely able to contain himself.

ā€œSo, you come out to these clubs often? Itā€™s my first time in the city. My twenty first birthday, actually.ā€ Mateoā€™s face lit up. Tossing his arm around Dannyā€™s shoulder, he leaned in close to hopefully be heard above the hustle and bustle of the chattering crowd outside. Danny blushed. He could feel the heat from Mateoā€™s pit on the nape of his neck, the smell of wet armpit after a night of dancing tickling the hairs in his nostrils.

ā€œWhereā€™s your party? You better not be out here alone on a Saturday night!ā€ Danny looked down, trying to hide the thirst which had overtaken him.

ā€œAhh, they all cancelled. Itā€™s just me tonight.ā€ Danny felt an immediate yank, as Mateo squeezed him tightly against his pillowy pecs.

ā€œNahh. Itā€™s just you and ME tonight. C'mon.ā€ Mateo began guiding Danny down the street, chatting about the nightlife in New York City, how itā€™s better than anywhere else, how it has the hottest guys and the best vibes. Mateo had been a staple of the ballroom scene for a couple years at that point, and was well acquainted with the bars and their owners. Any place of any note, heā€™d be able to waltz right in. Though in this instance, he decided to do something special for this little guy who heā€™d found meandering the streets. ā€œItā€™s definitely an in-the-know kinda place, if you know what I mean. And youā€™re not getting in wearing that, so I guess weā€™re just going to have to get you a birthday present.ā€ The two strolled up to a relatively inconspicuous apartment building, Mateo flashing his card to open the heavy metal door. Two flights up and ten doors down the hall, Mateo opened the door to his apartment. It was tidy for the most part. Plants sat on every imaginable surface, even hanging in macrame slings from the popcorn ceiling. Mateo flipped the lights on in his bedroom and opened his closet door.

ā€œUhhh, what are you looking for?ā€ Danny nervously shuffled from side to side. This wasnā€™t going to be one of those makeover scenes a la Clueless, was it? Mateo flashed several articles of clothing in front of his face, each vastly different from the one before: leather pants, a silk button up, a ripped up tank top, a latex poloā€¦ Under his breath, Danny could hear the quiet mutterings Mateo whispered after each one. Too young, too bulky, too preppy, too kinky.

ā€œHey. Like whatā€™s the vibe youā€™re going for? If some hot guy walked up to you and was looking you up and down, what would you want him to see in a perfect world?ā€ Danny sat there a moment, pondering. He wasnā€™t entirely sure. Heā€™d never thought about it. Closing his eyes, he tried to go back to his days of fantasizing about what a perfect Danny would look like. What heā€™d always wanted to look like. Though, for him, those days were far behind him. The years of being ditched and cast aside, while he understood why, had taken a toll on him. Heā€™d only ever seen himself as that annoying friend who ruins the mood. Danny shuffled his feet beneath him, hanging his head.

ā€œI donā€™t knowā€¦ just notā€¦ this.ā€ He motioned up and down, alluding to the rather sad appearance heā€™d taken on. Mateo stopped what he was doing, chucking a pair of sunglasses at the frowning young man, hitting him square on the nose.

ā€œYou stop that. This is not a pity party, itā€™s a birthday party.ā€ Danny nodded, picking up the sunglasses from his feet: Balenciaga. ā€œYou know what you need? You need a confidence boost.ā€ Mateo pinched his chin, analyzing his closet. ā€œAnd I have just the thing.ā€ It was like a frenzy. Within seconds, clothes were being tossed at him. Looking down at them, he anxiously investigated them. A long, almost see through tank top, a well worn sleeveless leather jacket, and a pair of wide, baggy pants- all of which about two sizes too big.

ā€œUh, hey, I really appreciate it but I donā€™t think Iā€™m gonna fiā€¦ā€ Mateo had plopped a heavy pair of beat up combat boots on top of the pile in his hands, nearly spilling the whole outfit out of Dannyā€™s arms.

ā€œShut up and go put this on, I promise youā€™ll look great.ā€ Sighing, he started headed toward the bathroom, only for Mateo to stop him. ā€œHere, justā€¦ā€ Mateo grabbed the wrists of Dannyā€™s shirt, pulling the gaudy top off his frail body. Snatching the tank top from the pile, he ripped it off the hanger and slipped it over his arms and head. The shit was undoubtedly massive on him. Danny was after all 5'4 and 100 lbs soaking wet, the tall hunk which stood before him would obviously be wearing way larger clothes than him. ā€œArms back!ā€ Mateo slid the sleeveless leather jacket onto him. Danny could smell that this item was well loved, catching a subtle hint of weed, cigarettes, and sweat gently wafting from it. ā€œPants off!ā€ He directed, Danny followed. Pulling his skinny black jeans down to his ankles, and taking off his brown loafers. He stood before Mateo in his whitey-tidies, and an unimpressive flat bulge. ā€œYeah, take ā€˜em off and burn them. Besides, easier access for the lucky guy later tonight.ā€ He winked, causing Danny to blush. Any time his gal-pals had tried to do a makeover it always ended in a trip to Hollister or Abercrombie to look like every straight high schooler in 2013. Heā€™d never had a guy, let alone a gay guy take the time to dress him. His guard finally down, he dropped them, quickly snatching the lightweight pants and pulling them up his legs, tightly pulling the drawstrings to keep them up.

Mateo looked him up and down, clearly thinking about what was missing as Danny slid his feet into the massive boots, feeling the squish of gogo boy sweat bubbling up onto his soles. Mateo snapped his fingers, grabbing the sunglasses and sliding them onto his face. Danny couldnā€™t deny feeling cool in these ill-fitting clothes, whether or not he felt hot in them or not- if this sexy club kid thought he looked good he probably did.

ā€œAwesome, here, take this bag. Happy Birthday, we gotta go!ā€ Danny didnā€™t even get a chance to peer into the mirror before a large leather bag was tossed at him and he was pushed out the door. He tripped over the baggy pants dragging on the ground, and the clunky boots which slid around on his now damp feet. ā€œYou look great,ā€ Mateo said as they hopped down the stairs. ā€œI got just the place to take you.ā€

The two walked for perhaps only a block or two before they turned into a dark alley, only a single red lamp far down the brick walled canyon illuminating the surroundings. They strutted up to the rusted metal door, Mateo knocking only three times before it swung open. The huge bouncer blocked the door with his arms crossed, though the moment he saw Mateo, he silently stepped aside. Thrust inside from behind, Danny entered the club.

From then on, the night was a blur. The few moments of clarity and recollection told quite the story. The club was packed, sexy guys dancing on eachother, gogo boys on the bar, discarded ecstasy pills littering the floor brightly glowing from the blacklights. A DJ played derivative beats as they approached the bar. The last clear decision that was made was to take a round of shots.

ā€œZayn! Could you get us two blowjobs?ā€ Danny turned quickly, shocked at the prospect. He was slightly less anxious when the two cream topped shots were placed in front of them. After a quick birthday toast, the two downed their shots. Immediately, Danny felt an instant release. The nervousness had subsided, and he felt ready to enjoy the evening. He couldnā€™t help but notice, before Mateo had ordered round two, that the sexy bartender seemed to smirk with every shot, heading to the back room for a moment only to come back with two perfect drinks. Round 2 felt just as good as the first, feeling himself smile and sway to the music. It was followed up by round 3, then round 4, then round 5ā€¦ The shots just kept coming, and by round 7, the world was spinning.

From what little could be recalled, he hit the dance floor with Mateo, showing off the notorious dance moves which had caused him so much grief back home. Though, as the night progressed, he felt the music in a patently distinctive way. Every beat, every note hit differently. His body seemed to just move on its own, his hips swaying, his hands slowly wandering around Mateoā€™s firm waist. The unfittedness of the clothes seemed to dissipate, and they began to feelā€¦ right. He liked the way that they showed off his broadening shoulders, his widening bicepsā€¦ As he dropped, effortlessly pulling off spins and dips, his strong, muscular legs kept him firm in his stance, rooted in the perfectly fitted boots.

He could remember Mateo running his hands over the light tattoos sprawled on his pulsating forearms. Heā€™d even done a few of them himself in his boredom during a relatively crazy shroom trip a few years back. In fact, as the two of them stood there in eachotherā€™s arms, looking eye to eye and towering over the dancefloor, he was so grateful that his bestie Mateo would give him such a night out on his birthday. Though, it seemed every year got more and more wild. The two didnā€™t waste any more time. This was going to be a wild birthday, as Mateo planted a deep kiss onto his lips. Their sweaty, muscled arms wrapped around eachother, passionately making out on the dancefloor, before Danny reached into his bag, pulling out the magnum ribbed condom heā€™d gotten earlier that day, hoping the two would arrive at that point sometime during the night.

Mateo smiled and nodded, the two heading outside to wait for the Uber to take them back to the apartment. As Mateo eagerly tapped away on his phone, Danny leaned against the street pole, thrusting his sizeable package toward his boyfriend.

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The next morning, Mateo woke up to an empty bed. Sweaty sheets tossed from one side of the room to the other, the stench of kinky sex still wafting in the air. He rolled out of the stained bed, walking past Dannyā€™s still warm, musky combat boots splayed on the hardwood floor. After a night of being railed with his face buried in itā€™s ripe opening, he couldnā€™t help but take a quick whiff down memory lane before going down to the front door. There, perched on the step, in all his blonde, shirtless glory sat Danny smoking his American Spirits.

ā€œGood morning, sexy bitch.ā€ His velvety voice soared like the wind to Mateoā€™s eager ear, something about that cocky, confident swagger behind his words always hit just right. He plopped down next to his boyfriend, sensually nibbling on his pierced ear. ā€œGonna get the neighbors all hot and bothered.ā€ Danny chided, Mateo knowing full well he loved being seen in even more compromising positions by anyone who stumbled across them.

ā€œThatā€™s the idea.ā€ The two laughed and kissed, hoping old Mrs. Prallatt across the street was huffing and puffing in an indignant rage. ā€œHey the house is performing later tonight in the Bowery, I think you should show off the new number. Kick the LaBeijaā€™s ass off the floor.ā€ Smirking, Danny took a long drag and let out a large cloud of smoke before turning to Mateo.

ā€œThey donā€™t stand a chance.ā€ Mateo stood up, kissing Dannyā€™s smooth hand before getting ready to head back up to get dressed for the day. ā€œHey, babe.ā€ Mateo turned and looked down at the beautiful creature which had been the wildest ride heā€™d ever taken. ā€œHow about you take those sweats off and I show you a couple more moves before we head out?ā€ A strong grope of Mateoā€™s growing bulge and a wink from behind his Balenciaga shades was all that his man needed to see.

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