Better than Sex (San Francisco Sex Gods #1)

Chapter 9

NINE

Spencer

“You’re glistening.”

Spencer had been zoning out but that caught his attention. After round two was over, he’d had just enough time to wave to Mickey before this guy Doug stepped into his line of sight and started up a conversation. It wasn’t that the man was unattractive – far from it. He had a nice smile and skintight jeans that put his best assets on full display.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said. “Glistening?”

“Gay listening.” When Spencer gave him a blank stare, Doug laughed. “You’re pretending to listen to what I’m saying, but you’re checking out someone else.” He swirled his cocktail. “No hard feelings. We’ve all done it.”

He wasn’t wrong. On any other night, Spencer would’ve jumped at the chance to blow this guy. But tonight his head wasn’t in the game. He’d been eager for the event to end so he could make good on his offer to buy Mickey a drink and continue their conversation.

“Sorry,” Spencer said, lifting up on the balls of his feet so he could see the timer over Doug’s shoulder. Jeez, I’ve been talking to this guy for eight minutes? “I was watching the countdown.” He held up the paper in his hand. “I have to turn in my ballot.”

“Hurry back.”

“Sure,” Spencer said distractedly. He took a few steps toward the bar, crumpled up the ballot, and tossed it under a nearby table. Mickey was no longer seated at the bar. Spencer scanned the entire club but saw no sign of him. “Damn,” he muttered to himself. He wasn’t surprised that Mickey had left after the event, but he couldn’t deny his disappointment.

It might be Doug’s lucky night after all. Spencer undid another shirt button and fluffed his bulge.

Xander appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his forearm. “Your dick looks great. Come on.” He pulled Spencer to a nearby booth. “This just opened up. Have a seat.”

Spencer sighed and plopped down onto the vinyl-upholstered bench. “God, I need a drink.”

“Here.” Xander sat in the booth across from Spencer and slid a shot of whiskey across the table. “I’ve got you covered.”

With a grateful hum, Spencer kicked back the shot and broke into a fit of coughing, waving his hand in front of his mouth as cheap whiskey seared its way down his throat. “What the hell? That’s not Maker’s.”

“No, it’s Old Crow. That’s what you get for ditching me.” Xander laughed when Spencer reached across the table to punch his arm. “Anyways, guess who I ran into in the bathroom.”

“Madge. Hate to break it to you, but she has a dick.”

“Very funny. Guess again.”

Spencer swallowed a few times to clear the aftertaste of bottom-shelf bourbon from his mouth. “Just tell me.”

“Mickey.”

Spencer sat bolt upright. “He’s still here? I thought for sure he’d left.”

“Down, boy. He’s sitting at the bar.” Xander pointed to where Mickey was slumped over the bar, his chin to his chest, swirling a glass of coke. “I’ve been watching him tonight…and I may have judged him a bit harshly.”

Spencer huffed and rolled his eyes. “You think?”

“I can admit when I’m wrong. I mean, he’s a train wreck, but there’s a decent guy hiding under all that ill-fitting clothing.”

“He’s not a train wreck.”

Xander shrugged. “Maybe not. But he is a virgin.” He leaned back and stretched his arms along the back of the booth. “I can’t wait to tell the guys that we found you a virgin first. I’m going to rub Quinn’s nose in it. Smug bastard.”

“Mickey told you he was a virgin?”

“No. I guessed. I’ve been asking anyone I meet who seems like they might be.”

“That must be leading to interesting conversations.” Spencer laughed and ran his hand through his hair. “Look, Mickey’s a nice guy, but I definitely get the impression he’s not ready for sex yet.”

Xander snorted. “Come on, he just needs a little confidence, a little push. A little mentoring .”

Spencer narrowed his eyes. “What are you getting at?”

“He reminds me of someone I met a long time ago, a lovelorn Spencer Ewing, wide-eyed waif in the big city, fresh from his breakup with that twat Garrett.”

“Wide-eyed waif?” Spencer feigned offense, but the characterization wasn’t far off. He’d met Xander at the end of the worst week of his life, lost and heartbroken, using a fake ID to buy drinks he couldn’t afford in a dive bar in the Castro, hoping to drown his sorrows with cheap whiskey and a cheaper hookup.

Xander, who’d had to leave home after his father discovered he’d kissed a boy, had been crashing on his sister’s couch. Because of one unguarded moment of affection, he’d lost everything except for the few possessions he’d crammed into his backpack on the way out the door. Luckily he’d scraped together enough cash for one last night of fun before reality set in.

That night the two of them bonded instantly, sharing drink after drink, laughing and commiserating, keying each other up until, with the ironclad bravado of nineteen-year-old boys, they swore off love and dedicated themselves to the unbridled pursuit of sexual pleasure.

They stumbled back to Xander’s sister’s apartment, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, coming up with the rules for their new lives on the fly and yelling them into the night.

Before they passed out on the sofa, Spencer grabbed Xander’s hand in a bro handshake, wrapping his fingers around the base of his new friend’s thumb and sealing their pact. “ We’re going to be gods, man ,” he slurred, the room spinning like a whirlpool and pulling him under into the dark.

“The point is,” Xander continued, bringing Spencer back to the present, “we weren’t always the sex gods we are now. It took time. We helped each other out. And we did the same for Quinn and Blake.” Xander nudged Spencer’s knee under the table. “Ask him to be a part of the group.”

Spencer frowned. “Quinn and Blake weren’t virgins when we met them.”

“True. But they had a lot in common with Mickey. In my eyes, he’s got potential.”

Spencer studied his friend’s expression, trying to determine if he was serious. “Yeah?”

“Have I ever been wrong about this?” Xander asked. “You’ve got to be at least a little curious about starting from scratch with a virgin. See it as an opportunity to pass along all the wisdom of your advanced age.”

“You fucker,” Spencer said with a chuckle. “Couldn’t resist, could you?”

“Follow along, grandpa.” Xander counted off each point on his fingers. “One, Mickey’s a virgin. Two, you’re attracted to him. Three, you need a virgin to finish your fuck-it list. And four, we just so happen to have a patented method for turning men into sex gods. Go. Talk to him. Invite him to Sunday brunch.”

“I’ve had almost enough alcohol to make that sound like a good idea.” Spencer glanced at Mickey, who was still alone at the bar. “Are you sure about this?”

“Dude, it’s a foolproof plan. Mickey finally gets laid and you finish your list. Win-win. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had my eye on this guy in the grey shirt and it’s time to make my move.” Xander discreetly pointed to one of the men from the speed dating event.

“Liam?”

“Sure.” Xander slipped out of the booth and kissed Spencer’s cheek. “I’m going to circle my prey. And you’re going to talk to Mickey.” He walked backward for a few steps, waving his arms and mouthing “ Caw! Caw! ” before sidling up to his chosen target.

Spencer was nervous about asking Mickey to join their group. To go from being a virgin to adopting the larger-than-life persona of a sex god would be like taking a sip from a fire hose. Would it be too much, too soon?

Guess there’s only one way to find out.

With nothing to lose, Spencer made his way to the bar, dodging two men who nearly bowled him over in their mad dash to claim the booth he’d vacated.

Mickey

As Madge approached the bar, Mickey could tell by the look on her face that she had bad news. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “Your name didn’t appear on anyone’s ballot.”

Mickey drew his bottom lip over his teeth and nodded weakly. He’d been expecting it, trying to prepare himself for it, but the news still hurt. Eleven men and not one picked him. Not even Spencer .

“Don’t let it get you down. Just keep showing up and trying, yeah?” Madge wrapped him up in a side hug and kissed his forehead. “Will you come back again soon?”

Mickey did his best to give her a convincing smile. “Okay.”

“Good.” Madge trailed her hand down Mickey’s forearm as she left, giving his hand a friendly squeeze before disappearing into the crowd.

Mickey peeled off his name tag, folded it in half, sticky side together, and placed it near his glass. His mind played back each of his dates in vivid, humiliating detail, so he could relive everything he’d said and done wrong.

“I owe you a drink.”

Mickey was startled to find Spencer next to him, leaning with his forearms on the bar. The last thing he was in the mood for was a gesture of pity from one of the men that rejected him. “No thanks. I’ll stick with Coke for now. Tonight I drank more than I usually do.”

“Rain check?”

Mickey shrugged. “Sure.”

“May I?” Spencer asked, motioning to the empty stool next to Mickey.

“Go ahead.”

Spencer took a seat and ordered a shot of Maker’s from the bartender.

Mickey sipped his Coke, trying to swallow down the words he knew would embarrass him but losing the struggle. “You didn’t pick me,” he blurted.

“What?”

“I thought you might pick me.” Mickey groaned when heat rushed to his cheeks and ears. “Never mind, it’s stupid. It’s just a game.”

“I didn’t pick anybody. I threw my ballot on the floor.”

“Oh.” Although Mickey was still hurt by Spencer’s rejection, it softened the blow somewhat to learn Spencer hadn’t even bothered to fill out his ballot. That meant he rejected everyone, not just Mickey. It was cold comfort, but it was something.

“I didn’t come here tonight for the event. Well, not exactly. Xander and I came to pick up guys after the event.” Spencer rubbed his chin. “I signed up so I could talk to you.”

“What? No you didn’t. Shut up.” Mickey bit his lip to hide his smile.

“It’s true. And now here we are, over two hours later, after putting up with ten awkward seven-minute dates.”

“Ten? We were on eleven dates.”

“Yeah, but the one with you wasn’t awkward.”

Mickey lodged his sweaty hands between his knees. “We can, um, talk now.”

When Spencer turned on the stool to face Mickey, their knees brushed together. Taking pains to keep his breathing steady, Mickey gently pressed his knee against Spencer’s to increase their contact. He was encouraged when Spencer didn’t draw back.

“How long have you lived in the city?” Spencer asked.

“Not long. Less than a year.”

“Have you found any gay friends yet?”

Spencer’s words landed like a slap across his face. How much humiliation could he weather in a single evening? “I’m not completely hopeless,” Mickey said, a sharp edge to his voice. When Spencer flinched, his eyebrows shooting up, Mickey quickly looked down at his Coke. “I have friends.”

His heart sank. What a great note to end the night on. Having to convince one of the cool kids that I’m not a total loser.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Mickey risked a glance at Spencer. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find. A smirk of amusement at his expense, perhaps, or maybe a mocking eyeroll. But Spencer was studying him with kind eyes, a small smile on his lips.

Spencer held his hand palm up on his knee and motioned toward it with his chin. “I know how hard it can be when you’re in a new city and haven’t found the place you fit in yet. I’ve been there myself.”

Cautiously, Mickey moved his hand from between his knees and rested it in Spencer’s open palm. A wave of nervous anticipation washed over him as Spencer’s warm fingers closed around his own. This is the first time I’ve held hands with a boy.

“I haven’t figured out where to start,” Mickey admitted. “My boss is gay, and we’re friends. Kinda. I guess.”

“Bosses don’t count.” Spencer broke into a wide smile, which encouraged Mickey to do the same. “Would you like to meet my friends? Maybe join us for brunch on Sunday?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They’re a good group of guys.”

Mickey frowned. “Your roommate doesn’t like me.”

Spencer blew out a slow breath. “Xander can be prickly at first. It takes him a while to trust people. He’ll warm up to you. It was his idea to invite you to brunch.”

A chill ran down Mickey’s spine, raising goose bumps on his arms. Something felt off. He nodded slowly. Hesitated. “Okay.”

“I should let you know, we call ourselves the sex gods.”

Mickey was certain he’d misheard. “ Sex gods ?”

“Yep,” Spencer said, chuckling. “It’s something Xander and I came up with a long time ago. Over the years we’ve helped each other find our swagger. How to dress, how to talk, how to pick up guys.” Spencer leaned in and spoke into Mickey’s ear. “How to fuck like gods.”

Spencer placed his free hand over their joined hands and looked deeply into Mickey’s eyes. “Since I met Xander, I’ve had a lot of sex, Mickey. A lot of sex. I could help you be a sex god, too. Give you the confidence to have any man you desired.”

Mickey’s heart fluttered in his chest. “You think that’s possible for me?”

“I do. You should’ve seen my friend Quinn when we first met him.”

Mickey felt like he’d slipped into a dream. Could it be possible that a man who he’d run into twice – a man he found very attractive, to boot – was making an offer of not only friendship, but…what would he even call it? Sexual mentorship? That, out of the blue, someone was promising him the keys to the kingdom, a guided tour of the elusive mysteries of the gay community?

There had to be a catch.

A flash of movement behind Spencer caught Mickey’s attention. Xander and one of the guys from the event – Liam, the accountant – stumbled up to the bar, hands all over each other, and flagged down a bartender. While they waited to place their order, Liam hugged Xander from behind and kissed his way down his neck.

Xander tilted his head to the side to grant Liam better access. His eyes met Mickey’s, and the corner of his mouth hooked into a wicked smile.

Like a snake charming its prey.

“Did Xander put you up to this?” Mickey pulled his hand out of Spencer’s. “Are you two making fun of me?”

Spencer looked stricken. “What? No! Why would you think that?”

Mickey pointed, and Spencer spun to look over his shoulder. While Liam unbuttoned his shirt, Xander raised his eyebrows at Spencer and rolled his hand in a get on with it gesture.

With a huff, Spencer turned back to Mickey. “Whatever Xander said to you in the bathroom, forget it. He’s drunk, and he’s acting like a dick.”

Mickey flinched. “You know he talked to me in the bathroom?”

Clearly exasperated, Spencer rubbed his hand over his mouth. He took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and measured. “Listen, I’m not making fun of you. I know what it’s like to be alone in the city. To be on the outside looking in. When I finally found my confidence and realized that men wanted me? It was the best feeling in the world. I was finally living . I was a part of everything going on around me – the parties, the events, the sex. It felt like I’d arrived. That I belonged.”

Spencer drank the rest of his whiskey and pushed his empty glass to the edge of the bar. “I can help you find that confidence too. It’s up to you if you want to try this. But Mickey, I would never make fun of you.”

Although he was wary of Xander, and barely knew Spencer – their longest conversation to date had lasted exactly seven minutes, after all – he sensed that Spencer was being sincere.

He was skeptical that Spencer could transform him into a “sex god,” but the offer was too good to pass up. Even if all he got out of the arrangement was a group of gay friends, he’d be happy.

“Okay, you’re on,” Mickey said, extending his open hand. “Make me a sex god.” Spencer smiled and shook his hand.

Jazz said to dive into the deep end.

Splash.