1. FALLON

Throwing the curtains open, sunlight splashed me, covering my body with intense warmth that was quickly whipped away by the air conditioning unit above the patio.

"Hello, Mexico," I said, letting my eyes get lost in the view from the beach front view.

A bedroom door opened and my best friend, Henry walked out, wrapped in the resort's soft and silky robe. I wore a matching one. Seeing each other for the first time this morning, we both squealed.

We arrived at the resort late last night and after eight hours of flights and buses, we were exhausted. We didn't even taken in the actual space we had in our little villa.

"We're here," he said, shuffling his feet in the resort slipper.

"We're queer," I added.

"And we're going to go Daddy hunting," he laughed, wrapping an arm over my shoulder.

Facing the view from the patio door, I almost needed to be pinched. This was the most beautiful view I'd seen in my entire life. The sand was white, the water looked like I could bring it to my mouth and drink. There wasn't anything front of us either, not a single person walking by, but that might've been because it was roughly six in the morning.

"Tell your dad I'm so grateful he paid for this," I said.

"Ew, no. My dad always pays for one holiday of the year," he said. "And I made sure to get the villa with two rooms so that you could come along."

"Yeah, but you know I could never have afforded this in my entire life," I said, still staring in awe at the view.

"Don't make it weird, Fallon." He pressed a finger to my mouth. "We've been friends for too long for you to start getting weird about money. It's all inclusive, with drinks, so trust me we're going to have a great time. Don't think about anything. Just think about all the fun we're going to have for the next ten days."

I owed Henry a lot. We lived together back in New York. His father was a lawyer, and Henry passed the bar and started work for his father's firm. It was so easy for me to compare myself to him, considering we'd been friends since we were teens. We'd even once shared a kiss, but that was too weird, two bottoms don't make a top, unless that top is a stylish cut off covered in an early Y2K style knock-off Swarovski crystals punched into it from a Bedazzler.

I had helped Henry choose this place. We looked for somewhere gay friendly, that was a massive plus. We also needed somewhere that the online queerosphere was actually visiting, otherwise our hunt for Daddies was going to end before it started. And I didn't mean a man who fathered children, although I didn't mind those Daddies. My preference were older men who liked to take an active part in younger guys—even those in their late twenties, playtime.

"Plan of action," I said. "We shower, not together. Sorry, I love you like a brother, not a lover."

Henry snorted. "Ew," he laughed. "Go on, what else is on your plan."

"Shower, clean shave, need to make sure this skin is all smooth and supple. Um. And then—fuck. You made me forget." My shoulder slopped as I spun around into the room, looking at the lounge and placing myself close to fall onto the comfy white cushions on the wicker chair. "Oh. Obviously, we dress cute for breakfast, maybe at that outdoor area by the pool we saw on the pictures. I want to get a view of any man who dares to Speedo and choose based on that."

"You could be disappointed," Henry said. "The amount of hung men I've been with that have had small soft dicks. Or maybe it's all balls just pushing their dick out. It's not a good idea, is all I'm saying."

I rolled my eyes. "I just want an eyeful of sausage with breakfast, and I'm not a size queen."

"Sure," he said. "Wait. You dropped this." He bent to pick something up from the floor. It was nothing. "Your crown." He said, gesturing to my head. "Size queen."

I snapped my fingers at him. "So sassy. I love it. Let's keep that energy up."

"Done and done," he said. "Now get dressed. I think going out to breakfast in these slutty little robes would be too much for some of the Daddies."

He was right, but I didn't mind getting their hearts racing because that meant they were interested.

For the entire trip, I'd only packed the shortest shorts and the thinnest shirts, the type that looked like they would fall apart the moment they got wet. And I wasn't going to test out that theory either.

In a pair of tight denim shorts, extra cropping up the thigh for the benefit of getting more of a tan in them, and a white blousy shirt with the top half of the buttons undone to show off my freshly waxed chest and also more space to get that all over tan when the sun hit just right.

There were a number of options for breakfast. We could've had it delivered to us and eat on the patio, or we could go on a short walk up to the resort and eat by the pool. It was a no-brainer with our wants for the vacation, we were looking for men, and any man would do, even a man who could only top in case of emergencies. I really wasn't fussed, I just needed to have my sexual organs serviced. They hadn't been in over a month, in gay time, that was like half a year.

The resort was so fancy. I had to stop myself from snapping pictures at every opportunity. We hadn't seen much of it when we arrived last night, but now, here we were, in the lap of luxury. A lap I was hoping would swallow me whole and claim me for a short period just so I never had to leave.

We were sat on a terrace near the pool area. Nobody was in it yet, and there were only two other people outside. Two older men of retirement age, at least, looking each other all loved up as they read newspapers together and wiped each other's mouths.

"Oh, it's all in Spanish," I said, looking at the menu inside the fancy leather bound case.

"That's the Spanish menu," Henry said. "Here, English." He exchanged menus with me.

"I didn't know you could speak Spanish."

"I've dabbled with a couple men who speak the language," he said, "I get the basics of it, like food."

One of my biggest regrets was not learning another language. My father, who passed when I was two was from Ukraine, and my mother was American who never learned, but trying to wrap my mouth around another language always had me tongue tied. I always felt cheated because of that, like I should've grown up learning a second language, but fate was clearly not on my side.

The English menu had a giant American flag slapped across the front of it as well. "Ok, so I'm thinking something light, like an omelet."

"Oo, yeah, I'm definitely not getting anything heavy."

"Good morning," A man approached, American. He was dressed in a pale blue suit jacket, no tie, unbuttoned shirt, showing off a little fuzz of light brown hair. And on his upper lip, a gorgeous thick mustache. "I'm the resort manager here at the Joya Rosa," he said. "I'm Sterling. I apologize I wasn't able to welcome the two of you personally when you arrived last night. I hope the villa meets expectations."

I nodded like an obedient doggy, watching intently as his cheek dimpled when he smiled. "I'm Fallon," I said. "Fallon Khachaturian, you can find me on social media. It's pretty easy."

He smiled. "If you need anything, I am more than able to personally help you," he said.

"Are you from the States?" Henry asked.

"I am, yeah, I'm from Boston," he said, and suddenly, I couldn't help but hearing the accent. It wasn't as strong as some people, but it was definitely there. "I go back once a year to visit family, so a lot of people tell me I'm losing my accent."

I started speaking at the same time as Henry. I didn't even know what I was saying, I just wanted him to look at me again while I was speaking.

Sterling, a name that rolled right off the tongue. He put his hands together, his smile forcing that dimple to eat into his cheek. "I'll get someone over to take your breakfast order," he said. "And again, if there's anything that's not on the menu, let me know, and I can see if it's something we can make with ingredients we have, or something we can resource nearby."

We waited until he left before fighting over him.

"I need him," I said.

"But what if he needs me," Henry said. "You saw the way he looked at me."

"No, you saw the way he looked at me. He gestured to me when he asked us to let him know . Plus, he's not even your type."

Henry grinned, squinting his eyes before placing the menu in front of his face. He giggled. "I know," he said.

I whacked the menu from his face. "You're such a little bitch."

"I think it's fun to mess with you," he said. "You know I like my men thick, I like them bears, the type of guy who is a little grizzly and lived in the woods. The manager is all yours, if you can get him. He looks pretty busy."

In all the time we'd been friends, we'd never once found the same guy attractive. We both loved Henry Cavill, obviously, that hairy chest with those big pecs that looked like they could nurse the both of us. Henry Cavill was everyone's type though.

A woman came over with bright red lipstick on, her black hair slicked back into a ponytail and she was dressed in a white shirt, tie and skirt. She was smiling far too much for someone who had to have been overheating in a shirt all buttoned to the collar.

She was lovely, spoke to us in English with her natural accent shining through. I felt a little embarrassed not having learned much more than hola or whatever Dora had taught me as a child. We ordered breakfast and it came out no less than ten minutes later. Omelets with ham and peppers, small sliced baguettes with butter, orange juice, and espressos.

"I bet there are some people who live their entire life like this," I said, looking out at the still pool water, only touched by the occasional ripple of air across. "It's so serene."

"But they probably don't appreciate it as much as we do," Henry said. "So, I was doing a little searching last night online and I think I found a gay nightclub close by. You know, because this place isn't only gay."

"You know what they say, if you're looking to buy meat, you go to the meat store," I said, cutting into my omelet.

"Do people say that?" Henry asked. "Is Meat Store the name of a club? I didn't come across it when I was searching, but it might not be in the area."

"No, I made it up, but that's how all sayings start," I said. "Ok, so gay club, where? And is it safe to leave the resort? I heard some sketchy stuff."

"It's in the downtown area," he said. "And I told you to stop reading that thread, as long as we don't get too drunk, and don't act a fool, it's pretty safe."

"Plus, you are a lawyer," I said, eating the forkful of food. It was delicious.

"American law," he reminded me. "But yeah, some transferable skills. But neither of us have ever been arrested, least of all been given a citation, so I think we're safe from risky behavior."

I nodded, listening to what he was saying. "The most risky thing I do is let guys hit it raw, but I'm on PrEP."

"Don't go around announcing that," he whispered and kicked me under the table.

"That I'm on PrEP, I think it's important everyone knows."

"No, that you let guys hit it raw, it's just—a little vulgar."

I cooed and reached over, pinching Henry's cheek. "That's where your draw the vulgar line," I teased.

"No, but people might hear you."

The terrace area had a couple extra people on it, but nobody was close enough to be eavesdropping. At least, I hoped they weren't. "They should," I whispered. "Because I've claimed the manager, and he's my goal for this trip."

"Set your sights a little lower," he said.

My sights were low, looking him up and down, emphasis on the down, because he had some great calves stretching out those linen pants. He was also in a semi-permanent view through the window from the terrace at the front desk. Maybe I was under the influence of his dimple, or the mustache, but I wanted a taste. I was just a boy with a singular urge in this world, and that was the urge to be satisfied.

As we ate and conversation turned back to the gay club, Henry showed me pictures and how far away it was. Two girls in close proximity heard and joined in the conversation. It turned out, people could hear us, whether that was before or after talk of raw dogging and cream pies was still to be determined. And it looked like we were making plans to visit the club.