6. ZANDER

I was an awful host, and that was perhaps because I never hosted. I never had people over, and I definitely never had to offer them food or snacks. I made do with the services they provided at the Playhouse Club, and that was fine with me. They offered a room, and then they had a bar, and a little place for snacks.

I should've been asleep the moment my head hit the pillow like Sam, but instead, I tossed and turned, wrestling with the idea that I could've been prepared.

Gael had mentioned meeting a friend of his boyfriend at the club, he'd strongly implied we'd hit it off, and it could lead to something. Gael knew I'd been looking for a partner, someone who I shared chemistry with, and someone I could be monogamous with. Previous guys had always assumed I was poly because I did porn, but that was far from the truth, and they never stuck around long enough to hear me explain that I never did it with anyone, every video I made was a solo video, unless you counted the teddy bears with the stuffed removed and sex toys implanted to make them more fuckable.

Sam barely moved in bed beside me, occasionally letting out a little snore or a couple of nonsensical words. I wondered what he was thinking. Maybe how much of a mess my apartment was, and I should've cleaned after Gael had mentioned it, but it was yet another attempt at self-sabotage, and I regretted it. I liked Sam, he pushed my buttons, and I was a sucker for a good pushed button.

Finally getting to sleep, I still manage to wake up before him. At eight in the morning, I knew now was the time to try and get things back on track to being a good host. I climbed out of bed, slowly, trying to keep from waking him. He seemed unphased by the movement anyway.

With the light shining in on all the boxes, it sent a knot gathering in my stomach. I couldn't believe I'd invited him back here to see this. I should've gone home with him, but I just had to be in control. I chuckled to myself before closing my mouth and letting out an aggressive groan.

I had to head back into the playroom for my phone. Sam had preoccupied me so much, I hadn't even bothered to check my phone once. The room needed a good clean too. There was a small off-white stain on the comforter from where he'd came, and the purple dildo laid there like a weapon of ass destruction, just waiting.

From my phone, I ordered coffee and breakfast to be delivered. I didn't know what Sam's breakfast order was, so I took a guess. A coffee with caramel syrup, something sweet. I ordered breakfast bagels and a couple of pastries. "You better like something," I grumbled.

On the floor, inside Sam's jean shorts, his phone vibrated. I guess we'd both been too preoccupied with each other to bother with our phones. It was actually nice to see.

I folded his shorts, phone on top of them, showing the multiple notifications from Ash. And I didn't have a single one from Gael.

I managed to strip the bed, clean the half-full glasses of gin and tonic, and gather up all of Sam's clothes from around the apartment. He hadn't been wearing much at all. I kept them all together and folded on the back of the sofa.

"Those mine?" he asked in a sleepy croak from the bedroom doorway. He tucked his arms under his pits, covering part of his naked torso. "I should probably be heading home."

The door buzzed. "No," I told him. "Yes, they're yours, but no, you can't go yet. Breakfast is here."

He grinned. "I guess I could stuck around." He rubbed sleep from his eyes. "But I'll be judging you."

"Strangely enough, I don't expect any less from you," I said, pushing my way through boxes. That's why they were always a mess; I made my own path through them all the time. "You want something to put on. I have a t-shirt you can wear."

"Yeah, sure," he called back as I reached the intercom phone to buzz the delivery in. "I'll get one from your drawer."

I had nothing to hide in my drawers, and I took Sam for a snooper. As I waited by the front door, Sam came through, pushing at boxes to show me the t-shirt he'd picked. "Ta-da," he said, almost stumbling.

It was a large blue t-shirt with Arizona written on it in white. "Adorable."

"Who lives in Arizona?"

"My mom. She probably sent that over a couple years ago, I was a little more huskier."

Sam tried to twirl in it. "It could be a dress."

"It could be, easy access too."

Sam turned and pulled the basketball shorts down to show his ass off. The driver arrived at the door just in time to witness it. Sam skittered around, falling into a box as the driver handed off the coffee and food, stumbling over his words as he said "have a good day."

It was a nice view to see Sam's ass, but he didn't need to show off. I closed the door, holding back laughter as Sam pulled himself out of the box, tugging his shorts up around his waist.

"That was something," I said.

"It was for you," he grumbled. "What did you get me?"

"Coffee and a bagel, or pastry, I didn't know what you'd want." I carried the paper bags through the apartment, doing my best not to trip.

By my side in the kitchen, Sam had a hand to his stomach as it rumbled. "What kind of bagel? Because I only like cream cheese on mine."

"You're in luck then. You don't have any coffee quirks as well do you?"

"Actually, I do. I like triple shot espresso."

"At that point, you might as well just start mainlining drugs," I joked.

"With lots of sugar," he added.

"How about a regular coffee with a shot of caramel syrup?"

"Deal."

We stood around in the kitchen, eating the bagels and different pastries. Sam seemed to have less of an attitude now, which led me to think the secret of making him happy was coffee and the occasional bagel.

"What do you have planned today?" I asked him.

"Today, I—" he clicked his tongue around. "I would like to help you sort your boxes out. This is no way for anyone to live."

"I don't live like this, it's part of my job," I told him.

"Then, let's get your job sorted out, because you could have a cute place here," he said. "Instead, you've got a—meh place."

That was enough for me. "Fine," I gave in. "I'll let you help. But you've got to ask me where things go. I can't get delivery boxes mixed up with stock boxes."

He gave me a two-finger salute. "Yes, boss!"

There were probably better things we could've been doing with our time, like each other, but I wasn't opposed to him helping me out. In fact, I liked the company, and weirdly, I was enjoying Sam's humor.

"Have you ever thought about just closing the business?" he asked, glaring into a box.

"No. Why do you say that?"

He pulled his phone out. "Because I searched you online, and you do really well. I saw some of your naughty socials and you've got a decent following."

"Huh, it took you that long to search me, did it?"

"I was told that it's rude to be on your phone when you're entertaining a man," he said. "Speaking of, I can't believe you folded my clothes. That's cute."

"I was trying to be tidy. And to answer your question, I love the store, I love supplying kinky costumes to people, and it helps out my kinky account."

Sam squinted and hummed. "And nobody put the two things together, like, oh, Zander might be that guy who—"

"No, because I don't use Zander, or Alexander on that account."

"Nope, you're Mr. Bear," he said. "You know, when I met you last night, I was thinking about what I should call you. Now I'm beginning to think that Mr. Bear being your name, was in my head subconsciously from accidentally seeing your stuff."

"Accidentally, huh?" I reached into a box, pulling out some tulle fabric. "I'm sure it was an accident." I scrunched it up into a ball and threw it at him. It missed.

"Hey," he said, reaching into his box. He pulled his hand out, a gentle smattering of objects fell through his fingers. "This stuff is mostly buttons, so I don't know if you want me to threw these."

I waded through the boxes to Sam. "Try me," I said.

Sam raised a finger and prodded my nose. "Boop."

"You didn't just boop me."

"Boop." He did it again.

I grabbed both of his arms and pinned him against the ground, making a small angel shape in the objects on the floor. "You're so small," I reminded him. "I'm twice your size."

"Finally," he said. "I've been waiting for you to do something like this. Your weight on top of mine is my ideal weight."

Hooking my legs up against his thighs, I put him into a deeper body pin. "You love being used, don't ya?"

"Use it or lose it," he said, sucking in a deep breath and laughing. "That all you got? This is a regular yoga pose."

Extending my tongue out, I leaned in, pressing on him until my tongue touched his nose. "Mhmm."

He tried pushing his tongue out to touch mine. "Let me."

"No. You're stuck like this now. You're an object. You don't move, talk, and definitely don't even think about getting hard."

He giggled. "Too late. I was hard before you pinned me down."

Moving a hand, I felt down Sam's torso, reaching his cock inside the spacious basketball shorts to find his hard cock.

"But it's not for you," he said. "It's for Mr. Bear, and only him."

"Mhm, well, since that's me."

"I want to make a video. I want to dress up. I want to fuck that bear with the fleshlight."

There was a reason my socials were popular. Everyone in the gay sphere had seen that video of me fucking that fleshlight teddy bear. I believed Sam when he said the erection wasn't for me, because sometimes I got myself hard thinking about those videos.

"I told you already, I don't do collabs."

"It's not a collab," he said. "I just want to see what all the fun is about. You fuck me, I fuck the toy. And then I can watch it back, or—or you can post it, and we'll see what people think about me."

I shook my head. "You talk too much, you're a brat, and—"

"I usually get what I want."

And I was inclined to give it to him, but I didn't want to get carried away with myself. I'd already opened my apartment up to him, I didn't want to get too invested and then have him turn around and tell me it was fun but now he's looking for something else.

"If that's the case, then I want to make a couple agreements." I stared into his eyes, watching as his pupils grew with excitement.

"Go on."

"We go on a date."

"I thought you wouldn't ask."

"Not a question, we're going on a date, and then we're going to your place for that drink you promised me," I said.

"All things I were going to suggest," he continued.

"And you were a ball gag in the bear head," he said.

He attempted to shrug under my weight. "I also wanna wear those paw things, and I want you to cum inside me again. No money shot for your audience."

I pulled myself off him. "One more thing."

Sam pushed himself up on his elbows. "Go on."

"You never tell anyone."

"I'd never tell anyone, that's what makes it fun, right?"

It was a mental war trying not find myself absolutely falling for Sam. But he agreed to it all, and I was sure he wouldn't make it past the ball gag, or even the date. Maybe he was looking for someone to commit to as well, at least that's why I'd hoped Gael and Ash pushed the two of us together.

"I—I accept that," I said.

Sam pushed his arm up as much as it could go from his position. I shook his hand. "Just to reiterate what you said, you want to date me."

"I want to go on a date, singular."

"That's unfortunate, you're the type of guy I'd like to date. You've got a great dick, body, and the kinks are a bonus. But if you want—"

"One date might lead to more," I butted in.

He smiled. "Ew, so you like me?"

"You brat." I knew his game, and I fell for it. "Get up. I want to put the gag to use."

He stuck his tongue out, saliva dripping down his chin. "You wanna be fluffed first?"

That was one way to gag him early. "In the playroom. Now."