The God Of Abundance
Mid December and Christmas party season was in full swing across London.
“Fuck yeah, what a year. Fuck. Keep going.”
Hugo Grosvenor clocked himself in the mirror of the mens room of Geoffrey’s. A private members club in the heart of Marylebone.
“Five million pound bonus in the new year. Fuck yeah.” He thrust his hips, as he swept his dark brown hair back out of his face while snorting the purest cocaine from the webbed flesh between his thumb and forefinger. Of course he proceeded to point at himself in the mirror, proud of what he saw. You’re the man.
The chemical cloud hit his brain like ice. Each inhale making him more and more alert, despite the champagne haze. He studied his face given any chance he got. An investment all of its own. Especially admiring his £5,000 nose. He knew he was now perfect or pretty damn close.
“Uh hmmm.” A muffled voice called out as hands clasped either side of his muscled behind. His body, sculpted from an addiction to his appearance. Beauty and money were the only reasons he kept going. If it wasn’t creating beauty or creating money, Hugo had no time for its existence.
“Makes me shoot ropes every. Fucking. Time. Just like that. Aaah. Fuck yeah.” Hugo laughed as he held the head, struggling, wheezes escaped from below. He emptied into the waiting, eager mouth. Clenching his jaw as his climax subsided.
Finally he relented. “Get up. I need to show my face in this thing.” Hugo pushed the head away and went to the mirror.
Checking every inch of his face again. He was obsessed with his appearance. Clean shaven, blemish free complexion, coated in a Mediterranean tan, hazel, almost black eyes that made those in front of them feel completely inadequate. His mouth, thin lips that gave nothing away. He would never allow anyone to calculate his thoughts. Or worse, use them against him. No one knew better than him. About anything.
What looked back at him was the CEO of Plutus PLC. It was fitting that as a self proclaimed narcissist, Hugo should be at the helm of such a dominating financial institution as Plutus. Translated literally to ‘God Of Abundance.’ In his own eyes, those dead, dark eyes, he was a god on earth. He personified this institution. It had become his sole reason for being.
At 45, Hugo was an unstoppable and unscrupulous leader. Some would argue that was the only way to get ahead in the finance world.
“I love it when you get nasty around bonus time.” Gordon Hewitt, Plutus’ CFO smiled behind him. Tidying his hair following Hugo’s manhandling. Dirty blonde and curly, slicked back. Gordon was always cheery. The diametric opposite of Hugo. Beach tan and light blue eyes. His face always set into a smile. Unlike Hugo, he was approachable. A loveable and docile people person through and through. He was beautiful so Hugo kept around. Obviously.
Hugo’s darkness never phased Gordon’s constant need for approval from him. Hugo was his weakness. He was a brilliantly intelligent and sort after numbers man in the city but his self respect dissolved as quick as the cocaine on Hugo’s brain, whenever he was alone with him.
Even at 40, he gazed longingly at Hugo when he thought the coast was clear. Love sick. He hoped one day Hugo would break that stare and actually notice him, not just the function he served Hugo’s life.
A life compartmentalised into investing in his own outer beauty, conquering and acquiring things of beauty, more wealth and more power. That was it. All that lay on Hugo’s horizon at any given time. Gordon followed him, listless. Waiting for the change to occur.
They’d kept their tempestuous relations a secret over the past fiver years. Ever since Hugo was ushered in by the board. There were glimpses of hope, Gordon quietly smiled at spikes of jealousy if on rare occasions he wouldn’t be at Hugo’s beck and call.
“Hmm? What did you say?” Hugo didn’t wait for an answer. “Doesn’t matter. I’m intrigued. That new IT lead is bringing his new man with him I hear. I wonder what airhead he’ll bring. Men like Dean Archer always end up with the male equivalent of a supermodel. Pretty but absolutely fuck all between the ears. Let alone anything of value to add to conversation. Anyway, I’m in the mood to be entertained by beautiful things, so we shall see what transpires this evening.” He straightened and turned. Grinning at the thought. “How do I look?”
“Perfect. As always.” Gordon almost sang and went to kiss him. He only caught the corner of Hugo’s lip. Hugo had already forgotten him.
“Let’s mingle. Make this lot believe I actually give a shit about them. Out. I’ll go five minutes after you. Go. Fuck off.” He pointed to the door while looking down at his Audemars Piguet watch.
Gordon left, deflated. Not for the first time.
Hugo followed and looked through the heavy oak doors, ajar to allow colleagues into the party. Heady cologne, perfume, champagne and whiskey filled the air in the converted Victorian palatial town house. He stopped in his tracks and looked on as a black Mercedes S Class door opened and he considered the individuals climbing out.
“Babe, another Mercedes limousine? You’re too sexy to handle. And, what is it about German saloons that gets you so hot? I couldn’t get you away from me. Not that I’m complaining.” Jamie looked over Dean hungrily. Dean wore a black cashmere roll neck under a grey check suit. “Can you see your stubble rash on my chin? Those on my arse cheeks won’t visible to anyone here. Hopefully.” Jamie teased and blew Dean a kiss, winking his eye as they arrived. “One smoke before we go in.” He put his hand up to Dean to signal to wait. Jamie fished his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket.
He wore a charcoal suit with a black shirt, open to the décolletage. Prada loafers newly polished for the occasion. Dean had told him earlier in the apartment he looked like a visiting Prince from a faraway land. Jamie lapped up the affection.
Dean whispered. “Will you keep your voice down. I don’t need people gossiping about me just after promotion. But, yeah I can’t help myself. Jamie pussy wrapped up in that suit? Are you kidding? Your fault” He flashed a smile that made Jamie giddy.
“Dean Archer, did you just say the fucking p word? Dirty boy.” Jamie slapped his chest and flung his head back as a plume of smoke jetted from his mouth with his laugh.
Hugo caught the flash of blonde hair first, then the cheekbones, perfectly lit by the street lamps. The straight but delicate nose, a glint of big blue eyes, framed with thick, long eyelashes.
A bimbo again Dean?
Wait no, this one has his own mind. A slap of the chest, and that neck and the smoke, elegant but powerful. And confidence, the swagger and laugh. This one is different.
Gordon arrived at Hugo’s side. “Jesus. They look like statues from the British Museum.”
“Shut up. Fuck’s sake. A pair of pretty boys and you don’t know what to do with yourself.“ Hugo dismissed him. “Dean Archer!” Hugo transformed into the dotting boss in mere moments. For appearances sakes only. Gordon hung back like any good lap dog. Never feeling like he was important enough to have Hugo finish a conversation with him. But he hoped, one day.
“Mr Grosvenor. Thank you for throwing the get together.” Dean shook Hugo’s hand as they came through the door. “And this is my better half, Jamie Arden. Jamie, Hugo Grosvenor, CEO of our company.” Dean pushed the small of Jamie’s back encouraging him not be shy.
Not likely.
Jamie’s cologne hit Hugo’s nostrils. He had to take a subtle breath. Jamie stunned him. The way he carried himself, the confidence. His face. That face.
Jamie broke Hugo’s momentary day dream.
“Hugo, wonderful to meet you. What a beautiful suit. Gosh your skin is immaculate. You must drink litres of water and sleep twelve hours a night. I’ll need to be that committed at your age.” Jamie went in for a light hug.
Dean froze. Age. Ding. First name without permission. Ding. Hugging a hundred million plus net worth abject stranger. Ding.
He had to laugh a little despite his alarm. He couldn’t help it. Jamie was the master of unpredictability.
“Babe, isn’t this place a little like your parent’s place over in Holland Park? I think their entryway is bigger though. But yes, wonderful evening. Champagne this way?” Jamie fired the verbal rounds straight into Hugo, he refused to cow-tow to anyone who hadn’t earned his trust. Hugo looked on and laughed. Even impressed possibly.
Hugo had to think. What is happening to me?
“Is that true Jamie? And Hugo is fine. Well yes, please come in, enjoy. You’re obviously doing something right at home for this one to bring his A game to Plutus each day. I should thank you for that.” Hugo smiled. Yes. He was impressed. He’d forgotten to be his usual distant, cold self in the exchange. Indeed, what was happening.
Jamie did the unspeakable and grabbed Hugo’s arm like you would an old friend and went to his ear.
Dean gasped. Again.
Whispering into the ear of hundred million plus net worth abject strangers. Ding.
“Hugo, you are absolutely welcome. I take it gladly for your team. Believe me.” He tapped his back, giggled and moved away to grab a glass from a waiter.
Hugo cupped Dean’s arm as he awkwardly walked past him with his head bowed. “That one is a fucking pistol. How refreshing. Well done Dean. You’ve got an absolute firecracker there.” Hugo’s friendliness caught Dean off guard.
Dean leaned in nervously. “Yes, in certain circumstances it’s fantastic, other times it’s like managing a bull in a china shop in Prada loafers.” They both laughed and went their separate ways.
Dean caught up with Jamie talking to a group of giggly ladies.
“Oh Dean. Your man is so charming.” One of them said cheerily.
“I am, aren’t I babe?” Jamie put a hand at the bottom of Dean’s back.
“You are. Yes you are. Come on Trouble. I want something stronger from the bar. Ladies, Merry Christmas, excuse us.” Dean pushed Jamie toward the bar.
“Lovely to meet you ladies, better listen to Santa here or I won’t get my presents next week.” He smacked his hand to his mouth. They all laughed at him.
“What the fuck was that back there? That’s not just my boss, but the boss. You acted like he was no one.” Dean held Jamie’s elbow. “Can you dial it down a little for me, I’m anxious as it is.” Dean bit his lip.
“Sorry babe. Do you mean we’re in a computer game? He’s like the big boss we have to use our ammo up on?” Jamie fashioned a gun with his hand and shot up into his chin. Giggling as he mimed his head exploding. “Whiskey Sour please for this beautiful man.” Jamie purred to the waitress. “I know how work politics operates, I just refuse to bow to it. I’m not rude but I’m not going to be subservient to a complete stranger either. Especially one who doesn’t pay my salary. Here.” Jamie placed the cocktail in Dean’s hand and cupped it with his other. “I love you.”
“I know babe. Thank you. You too. That’s actually a fair point. Can’t argue with that I suppose. Just do it for me? I know this is your idea of hell.” Dean ran his thumb over Jamie’s hand. Subtle touches to comfort him. Jamie was a showman but Dean knew every part of him by now. He was in high alert, fight mode. A hand to chin may be in order. So he did.
Jamie whimpered. “Dean.”
“Thank you for being here. It’s means everything to me. Just behave.” Dean smiled widely. He couldn’t process how handsome Wild Boy looked tonight. Hair brushed back, exposing every inch of his face. Dean couldn’t help but stare as did most other guests. Jamie was an exotic bird flitting about the party. He was dressed in black but he was easily the most colourful person there.
Jamie turned to lean back on the bar. “You make hell a nicer place though. I can’t complain. I’ll try my best Big Boy.”
Dean looked at the complicated creature next to him. He knew Jamie needed to process what was going on around him. He just needed to make sure the processing wasn’t fuelled by too much champagne.
They settled into completing circuits of the gathering of Dean’s colleagues.
Jamie stepped back while Dean nattered. He craned his neck back, taking the rooms in. Almost dizzy. Ceilings as high as Italian churches. Gold leaf cornicing adorned each corner of every room. Marble pillars framed each door. A white stone staircase snaked around the centre of the building. Jamie’s mind escaped to the stories this place could tell.
Later at the bar, Jamie was becoming increasingly animated. Champagne lubricating every part of him. Despite Dean’s pleas. He wrapped a hand round Dean’s neck as Hugo tipped his glass to them in acknowledgement from across the room. Gordon on his heels.
“You know those two are fucking right?” Jamie threw his head back laughing.
Dean pushed his hand away and looked down. “Jamie, please? Will you reel it in? This is basically work. Please?”
“Fine. Maybe I’ll just take off and entertain myself.” Jamie pouted and disappeared. Dean shook his head and turned to talk to more colleagues.
Jamie rounded the corner and found a stash of Dom Perignon on ice, opened. He looked round sneakily and grabbed a bottle and took up a seat on the staircase.
A little while later, he was playing with his phone and swigging from the bottle when a presence sat next to him. He was roused from his trance.
“Jamie, these things can be really fucking boring can’t they?” Hugo leaned in. His cologne, like him, was powerful.
“Oh Hugo, I don’t want to sound rude, it’s a beautiful setting and this stuff costs a fortune. You’re very generous. It’s just not my scene. I’ve left him to it. I’m getting on his nerves.” Jamie swilled the bottle in his hand.
“Does this CEO smoke?” Jamie got up and turned. He had to steady himself slightly.
“Uh, maybe. I won’t in public but I know a place.” Hugo grinned. He was completely enchanted by Jamie. Despite his attempts at distancing himself from everyone around him. Jamie was drawing him in.
“Lead the way boss. I’ll text Dean.” Hugo went to speak. “Ah ah! No way. I know you don’t mean anything unsavoury, but I don’t have any secrets from Big Boy. He knows where I am at all times.” Despite their little spat, Jamie’s respect for Dean was unwavering.
JAMIE: I’m going for a cigarette with Hugo. He’s bored too. Haha. Love you. Don’t worry I’ll behave and not say anything stupid. Xxx
“I wouldn’t expect anything less. You look fantastic together. Down here. And uh, Big Boy?” Hugo laughed subtly, leading the way.
“Mr Grosvenor come on, have you seen him?” Jamie quipped.
Hugo guided him out and shook his head smiling.
Through a side door they were suddenly on a fire escape and surrounded by walls and the sharp London December air. The alley way was in stark contrast to the opulent interior.
“Oh please, have one of mine. It’s the least I can do since I stole a bottle of £300 champagne. Hugo, don’t you think it’s ridiculous? It all tastes the same in the end.” Jamie continued to drink from the bottle while holding Hugo’s gaze.
“Your confidence is quite something.” Hugo leaned on the railing as he lit his loaned cigarette. Wrestling with the fact this guy was getting to him.
“Hmm. Well, that’s just me. Listen, Dean is a wonderful man. You’re honoured to have him working with you. I hope you know that.” Jamie took in his cigarette and spoke into the distance. Hugo smiled incredulously. Jamie’s utter disregard for his status was powerful. He was hooked.
“I see. You’re telling me I should be honoured? Aren’t I the man in charge?” Hugo was becoming some kind of attracted.
“Absolutely. And remember, you may be powerful, but a good leader is only as powerful as his army allows him to be. One should never get too hooked on power. Those around you can take it away from you when the trust is gone. Especially when the power is misused. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Hugo’s jaw went as slack as he would allow. Definitely something between the ears. “I think there is something in that, yes. You’re sharp Jamie. I’m impressed.”
“Ah, there it is. Judgment. You saw me before I spoke. Let me guess. You thought I was a complete air head with just hairspray where my brain should be? Listen up boss. I had a distinction in my English degree from Exeter University and was hand chosen to lead my organisation’s Social Media strategy. I’ve just signed off on a proposal that will earn us millions in Q1 of 2011 alone. Yes, I have grey matter between my ears.” Jamie tapped his temple for emphasis.
He continued. “I’m not offended, yours and others ignorance entertains me. You all make that face.” Jamie leaned over the railing a little to expel his smoke.
“What face?” Hugo’s had softened into a gormless grin. Unheard of. Thank god it happened in the alley way.
“That one.” Jamie pointed, his forefinger centimetres from Hugo’s expensive nose. “The one where you realise how silly you have been for making assumptions based on the way someone looks.”
Hugo had nothing. For the first time in a long time, he was the one to step back and accommodate another dominant personality. Jamie was winning and Hugo knew it.
“So yes, coming back to my Dean Archer. You’re honoured. He’s a magnificent man. MY magnificent man. In fact I should find him. It was lovely to meet you Hugo.” Jamie did something else unthinkable. He went ahead and touched Hugo’s nose with his forefinger. “And I won’t tell anyone you smoked a cigarette from a corner shop in Notting Hill. Let’s all do a thing some time. Merry Christmas Huggsie Bear.” He was gone.
“Huggsie Fucking Bear? What the fuck?” Hugo repeated under his breath. He laughed. Jamie swooped in and didn’t just make an impression on him, he came along, punch it into Hugo’s gut, leaving him ailing on the ropes. Hugo would gladly have taken more.
Jamie did that. He picked you up and shook you upside down. Side to side. Inside out. Leaving you captivated and speechless.
“Where have you been?” Dean met him at the foot of the staircase. Lip between his teeth, cheeks flushed. Jamie adored every cell of the man in front of him. Especially when he was like this. All muscles and heart.
Jamie ran a hand through Dean’s hair. Dean’s eyes closed slowly at the touch. “I have been telling your CEO to treat you right. Or he’ll have me to answer too. Babe, sorry for being a dick tonight. I know I need to think about my behaviour sometimes. But I hate pretence. Want me to respect you? Show me I can trust you. Am I wrong for that?”
“As much as you’ve put me on high alert all evening I can’t really argue with that. I’m sorry too. Babe?”
“Huh? Hmmm?” Jamie wasn’t sure if there was more blood or champagne in his body anymore.
“I love you. Can we go home? Get the fuck out of these suits? I want you. Blanket. Fireplace. And uh…”
“Fuck me Dean. Just take me home. You’re fucking amazing. And yes the bubbles are talking but it’s true. Fuck me.” Jamie crashed his lips against Dean’s. Dean jolted.
“Woah, steady on. You idiot.” Dean smiled and pressed his head against Jamie’s.
“Gentlemen. Dean, we’re doing a dinner. Very soon. I’d steal this one for our company if I could. He’s an absolute rock star!” Hugo grabbed Dean’s shoulders as he walked by. The weight of Jamie’s hands around his neck and Hugo’s on his shoulders made him almost buckle. Was this the definition of business meets pleasure? Quite literally.
“Thank you Huggsie Bear!” Jamie called after him.
“Merry Christmas Firecracker!” Hugo called out and made his way into the party again.
“Have you got a pet name for my CEO?” Dean grabbed his chin. Jamie gasped. The nickname didn’t even phase Dean at this point.
“Yes I do. I named him while sharing cheap cigarettes. Isn’t London fantastic?” Jamie was ready to climb Dean. His grip tightened round his shoulders. “Loosen up remember? We’re all fucking human underneath the bullshit, Archer. Him included. Take me home and love me hard.” Jamie took Dean’s earlobe between his teeth. “Do your worst.”
“Fuck babe.” Dean brushed his nose against Jamie’s. They sighed together.
They took a moment, finally away from the hustle and bustle of the evening. Stopping in front of the fireplace in the apartment. Gazing at each other, running hands over each other’s arms.
“Jamie, forget what I said, you were fucking incredible tonight. I admired the way you handled my boss. You’re a fucking king. I want more.” Dean grabbed Jamie’s neck and kissed him hard.
The kisses became desperate but unlike tradition, it was Jamie who guided Dean to his knees. Dean buried his face in Jamie’s tailored mound. “I want to be in your mouth Dean.” He craned his neck back.
Dean ran a hand up and unbuttoned Jamie’s shirt and ripped it out of the way. He gasped. Jamie’s bare muscled flesh against the black satin lapel made him want to give in to Jamie immediately.
Dean took Jamie in his mouth. He gladly let his king guide him back and forth firmly. Trousers quickly were thrown across the room, blazers and shirt followed for both.
“I want more of what you did in the limo. Get to work stud.” Jamie crashed onto the sofa as Dean took up residence between Jamie’s cheeks with that grin plastered over his face. The warm wetness of tongue followed by the sharpness of a finger. Jamie gasped and gripped the sofa behind him.
“Dean, fuck me please.” Dean raised his chest, swaying as he assumed position. The thrusts came. Hard and quick. Jamie slapped his face. They were equals now. Power being exchanged. Dean bit the fingers as the hand glided past his face.
“Don’t cum. My turn, get on the floor.” Jamie pushed Dean with his foot. Dean laughed at this evolution in his Wild Boy. He collapsed on the floor as Jamie’s face disappeared between his cheeks. What he did with that tongue. Dean’s nails scored the floorboards.
“You’re turn to love me hard Wild Boy.” Dean pushed his foot into Jamie’s chest as Jamie came up from his tease. He grinned. Yes the chest had grown. Jamie grabbed his foot and bit his toe.
He flung the leg back and pushed himself into Dean. Dean was shocked and gave out a yelp.
“Shit, you ok baby?” Even in the moment Jamie pivoted to concern.
“Yeah. Yeah. Really good. I just remembered how fucking fantastic that feels. Your words. Do your worst.” Dean bit his lip, not through worry this time, and cradled his head with his arm.
“Fucking try me.” Jamie rose to his arms, planking above Dean and snapped his hips. The motion pushed Dean closer every time. It was addictive and swayed between pain and pleasure with every push Jamie gave him.
“Harder. Make me cum. Cum in me. Fuck me.” Dean grabbed Jamie’s neck. They fell into a messy wrestle of breath, sweat and crashing muscles.
A few moments passed as Dean traced a hand over Jamie’s back. “I hope I wasn’t too much tonight. I just don’t want anyone to ever take advantage of your good nature.” Jamie rose to a press up position. Dean was smitten again. This boy was now a man.
“Look at you. Months ago, you were scared to let me in. Now you love me, fuck me and put my boss in his place. Jamie, you’re perfect.” Dean ran his hand over Jamie’s flushed angel face.
Jamie showed off. Obviously. Conducting a press up above Dean and laughing, he came to lie next to him. “I’m not perfect. But the rest of it. That’s all you Dean. You created a life and a space where I can grow. That’s priceless. Keep your bags, watches, apartments and CEOs. That’s worth more than anything in the world. You mean more than anything in the world to me.”
Jamie didn’t kiss him. The words were perfect as they were. He got up. “Can your king take you to bed?”
“Yes.”
