‘Who’s the Boss?’

 Another interpretation of things by Angus as referenced in The Roswell Discrepancy

(for those of you who recognize the American TV show title, check out the lyrics to the show’s intro song, “Brand New Life” - http://www.metrolyrics.com/whos-the-boss-lyrics-brand-new-life-by-larry-carlton-robert-craft-martin-cohan-and-blake-hunter.html)

Deetz aroused him beyond madness, leading Angus to wonder if a man could be ‘dick whipped’.  Pressed against a painted brick wall, his hands supernaturally tied to some random over-head pipe bulging above him, Angus also wondered if the similarly positioned couples and threesomes around him in Buddies Bar’s Dungeon space felt as dizzy, crazy tormented as he was right now.  His pelvis pushed out, dick just inside Deetz’s mouth, Angus was certain that he would do anything to keep this going – keep it going now, tomorrow, and likely forever.  Angus didn’t want to cum, even right before he did, as much as he wanted to be a Madeline truffle at the back of Deetz’s throat.

Wet tongue sliding down the length of his cock made Angus realize that this was the satisfaction hot toast felt when Bobby Flay lathered it with butter.  This thought brought him back to the days of early adolescent masturbation – when touching your dick was fantastical - full with new, amazing delights at each shower and bedroom session; your 13-year old self just knew it couldn’t get any better.  Angus briefly wondered if all this time fucking all those slappers was nothing but an attempt to get back to those moments, like a dope fiend looking for that first buzz.  But now that his dick and he were teleported there again, something else was growing alongside the stiffness announcing a burgeoning orgasm – fear.

Angus’s panic arose in reaction to something totally unexpected.   He knew Deetz to be a highly-tuned clairsentient – someone who could sense emotions and discern thoughts in others from great distances and from the objects they had touched hours before.  But Angus never knew that Deetz could project his feelings, particularly with the force he was giving off now.  Angus tried to escape it by not looking at him but when Deetz told him to “watch me do this to you”, the temptation to listen to the man’s unspoken emotional demands was irresistible.  Angus had always known that Deetz, since they were kids, fancied him.  Angus even dared to kiss Deetz once, as a rather mean tease that he later regretted because of its underlining unkindness.  But this was no childish crush, no boyhood sex fancy.  These were the feelings of a grown man who saw Angus’s unconscious, intra-psychic blemishes and thought they were as brilliant as the pulsing vein underneath his prick. 

Then there was that knuckle ever so casually brushing against his asshole; yet another new sensation overwhelmed Angus.  He’d never considered anal sex until recently; it seemed too complicated and dirty in the wrong sort of way.  But recently he’d had fucked Deetz to their mutual satisfaction.  And when that wayward knuckle pressed invitingly just above his perineum and his butt shifted unconsciously in hopes of finding the teasing feeling again, Angus’s original prohibition vanquished.  What Deetz thought he heard, squatting between Angus’s legs, amongst the pulsating house music and the grunting men nearby, was Angus moaning.  But, Angus was actually pleading.  “If you love me like that, please don’t hurt me.”  When his dick furiously gushed into Deetz’s mouth, Angus felt something more than cum flow out of him.

With a mouth full of Angus, Deetz stood up, grabbed the back of Angus’s neck, and French kissed him.  Angus was startled at first but got into it after realizing that this was Deetz’s way of indicating that they’d moved passed yet another marker.   Once their lips parted and they were both standing there, Angus pressed his forehead against Deetz’s, out of a shared sense of joy as well as to steady himself against a rush of raw vulnerability.  He had to escape.  “Let’s go.  I gotta use the head something fierce.  You go get the cab,” Angus said, adverting his eyes not only so he didn’t see the happiness on Deetz’s face but so that Deetz didn’t see his pusillanimity.   

Normally both of them were more observant and thus would have anticipated the motives of the leather boys who followed Angus to the bathroom.  But, Deetz was full of anticipation and thoughts of how he would finish what he’d started.  And as Angus walked into a stall and sat on the toilet, his mind was trying to regain some sense of control over his feelings; there had to be a way to have what he wanted and not be ruled by it.  Angus steadied himself by devising a seemingly logical reason why he was ardently discombobulated – “this is all just a bit of fun” - an idea that just a month later he would have to admit gave new meaning to the term ‘defense mechanism’.  So at the moment he left the stall, Angus was mentally lost in smug self-satisfaction and didn’t see the rapists until they were already on him.  He was doing a heroic job defending himself but would have left the fight much more injured had Deetz not come to rescue him like Seal Team Six giving Osama Bin Laden the drop.  Angus’s shock at Deetz’s fierceness and strength led to another shift in moods and he found himself filled with the gratitude of a damsel in distress; “Not like I’m any sissy queen but that shit was quite brilliant!” thought Angus.  Many years later, Angus would still wonder if his insistence that Deetz top him later that night was some form of repayment.

But that wasn’t as important now because that sense of vulnerability that frightened him while getting blown in the Dungeon returned as soon as he felt yet another amazing new sensation – his ass cumming when Deetz plowed him deftly in bed later that night.  Although Deetz had told him that it could and should happen when Deetz was fucking him, it was something so simultaneously intriguing and thrilling that it overwhelmed what little defenses Angus had left.  Then the next feeling came – contentment – something else he’d also never considered possible; he’d never experienced that with the hundreds of women he’d bedded.  When he rested his head on Deetz’s chest afterwards, Angus came in direct contact again with Deetz’s deep affections and the dread that Angus would never return those feelings. 

He got up early the next morning ostensibly to escape and get some rest from the exhilarations of the previous night.  But despite an advanced spin class and a three-hour jog in London’s cool, crisp air, Angus gave in and accepted that there were only two acceptable ways to manage what he saw as conflicting positions - love and powerlessness.  Either Deetz would have to be collared or Angus would have to get drunk and stay that way for the rest of their lives.