When Bobby Met Ken

Bobby scanned the nightclub and inhaled the teen spirit. He sighed. Like Bill Clinton, inhaling was all he'd get to do. He'd traveled from England to Manhattan because he'd believed here would be different. But this venue was identical to the gay scene back home. The young men gyrating across the dance floor were out of his league. Then he spotted HIM.

He gaped at the fine figure of manhood propping up the bar. Patting his own spare tire, he gazed longingly at the chiseled muscles along the man's arms. Yet this hunk couldn't be any younger than sixty. At forty-eight, Bobbie had thought he was the oldest here.

The man looked straight at him and smiled. Bobby fell a thousand leagues into those steel-blue eyes. He found himself gliding toward the bar. Usually, he'd be a nervous wreck approaching such a stud. But the mischievous sparkle in the man's eyes stole away Bobby's fears.

As he settled onto a bar stool, the man pushed a glass over—a cocktail with an umbrella. “Hello, handsome. What's your name?”

Bobbie glanced behind, but there was nobody there. He returned his attention to the man and blinked. This stallion was addressing him.

“B-B-Bobby.”

“Well, hi, B-B-Bobby.” The man smirked, but without malice. If Bobby had had to describe the man's expression, he'd say he looked hungry. The hunk leaned forward. “I'm Ken.”

Over drinks, Bobby learned more about Ken. He'd been in the army but said it was a long time ago and didn't want to get into details. When the slow dance music came on, Ken gave him a dazzling smile.

“Say, Bobby. Would you like to”—he winked—“visit the restroom?”

Bobby swallowed. He'd never gotten so far with a date, and he hoped he wouldn't disappoint this venerable veteran.

Ken stood. “Come, Sweet-Cheeks.”

Bobby's hand trembled as they entwined fingers. Ken's were strangely cold, but Bobby put that down to the iced drink Ken had lately held. His heart pounded as Ken gallantly opened the restroom door. Inside, Ken faced him and grinned, revealing canine teeth longer than his fingers.

Bobby stumbled backwards. “You're a v-v-vampire!”

“Yes, B-B-Bobby, I am.”

Bobby pressed himself into the corner of the restroom, his gaze flicking around for any avenue of escape. Even if Ken had been a normal man, Bobby wouldn't have been able to outrun or outfight him. His heart sank.

“Don't be afraid, Sweet-Cheeks,” said Ken. “I'm giving you a choice.”

“A ch-ch—”

“Yes,” Ken interrupted. “I am going to drain your blood. However, I kinda like you. So, either you can die here tonight, or I can resurrect you so that you can live forever as a creature of the night like me.”

Bobby licked his lips. “Really?” Did this divine creature wish to spend eternity with him?

Ken nodded.

Bobby ripped his collar away from his neck. “Do me now, big boy. I wanna live forever!”

***

Agony ripped through Bobby's skull, like some rodent had built its nest inside and was tearing his brain apart one cell at a time. How much had he had to drink last night? He'd never woken with a hangover this bad before, and it felt like his mouth was full of dirt.

He opened his eyes. He couldn't see a thing because it was pitch black, but he could feel that he really did lay covered in dirt. It pressed in all around him, damp and clingy. He was buried alive!

In a panic, he tore at the earth above his torso. To his surprise, it parted easily. He'd never been a strong man, but now he felt as though he could rip a car to pieces. Had somebody slipped him a date-rape drug in that club? Why would they?

Cold air hit his face. A silver moon shone brightly. He didn't need that air. He didn't need so much light to see. But Bobby did need something else with a desperation that perhaps only a heroin addict could understand. A rasping thirst parched his throat and curled his tongue.

A familiar smug face nearby reminded him what had happened. Ken!

Bobby rose from the ground and brushed the dirt off his suit. “My love. You brought me back to life. Now we can be together forever!”

Ken frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You know. You and I. A couple.”

Ken lifted back his head and laughed aloud. “B-B-Bobby, my friend. You misunderstand. I'm not gay.”

“Y-y-you're not gay!”

“Not a queer bone in my body.”

“Then, why did you turn me?”

Ken shrugged. “It gets boring hanging out forever with a bunch of guys who all look like gods and goddesses. I thought you'd be a refreshing change for all of us.”






WORD COUNT: 800

"Romance/Love Newsletter (July 12, 2017)" 

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN FOR:

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