Pressing the Button
I wasn’t going to use it, I’d decided. Probably.
I wasn’t going to use it.
I’d decided on my walk to the club that it wasn’t the right thing to do. Just having the thing in my pocket was weighing me down while I stood in line - as if my very first time at a gay club wasn’t stressful enough.
Of course, I was only going to the gay bar in the first place because that old coot had turned around and, for whatever reason, I swiped one of his little things off the table when he wasn’t looking. By the time he turned around again he was only too happy for me to take it with me; he practically begged me to.
I realised once I had done it that I couldn’t reverse it; there was no memory wipe function and I couldn’t have him knowing what I’d done. So I left him in his lab working feverishly on the solution to that little conundrum, convinced it was the most important thing in the world.
And yet with each step I took towards the club I lost my nerve.
Would it mean anything if I had my first time while I was using something like this?
Sure, I was pretty sore that I had never gone that far with a guy, especially at my age. But getting that far that way - would it mean what I wanted it to?
And so that’s why I made the decision not to use it.
Probably not, anyway.
The line took a lot longer than I expected. When I finally got in, it was nothing and everything like I’d dreamed it would be.
Tall, tall ceilings. Dark lights, a huge dance floor. Guys dancing in cages dotted around the room, shirts nowhere to be seen, glistening with sweat and soaking up all the attention.
It was so much, so fast.
I pushed my way through the crowd, my mumbled “excuse me”s and “sorry”s lost in the din of techno pop. I was going to have to get out of here soon if I didn’t get some liquid courage.
The bar was finally in sight, and just as I was pushing through a clutch of people to slide into an empty gap and order, a tall, broad shouldered mass of a man swooped in front of me. I had to skid to a halt to avoid slamming right into his back - as it was, I just bumped my head between his shoulder blades, which was embarrassing enough.
Until he turned around, and I got a good look at his face.
He was probably - no, definitely - the hottest guy I’d seen in real life. Cheekbones for days, with a well styled mess of dark brown hair. His thin, dark t-shirt barely contained a bulging set of pecs and a pair of strong arms designed to hold a person tight and make them feel safer than they’ve ever felt before.
And as I looked up from said arms, I noticed his beautiful blue eyes…
… staring straight at me, wondering what the hell I was looking at.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, ready to explain about the throng of people and my awkward clumsiness “I was just -“
“Just looking is fine,” he interrupted, his beautiful face contorting into a sneer. “Just don’t expect any more than a look. And keep your hands to yourself.” I didn’t know what was worse; what he was saying, or how sexy his gravelly, deep voice sounded saying it.
I considered explaining, but he had turned around already to order from the bar. A space opened next to him and I slid in, doing my best to keep my eyes on the bar itself.
I heard him scoff but didn’t turn or say anything, feeling a bit dejected.
After a solid minute trying to flag down a bartender to pour me a drink, I realised that nobody here was going to pay attention to me. They were all just as gorgeous as all the other guys, and everyone else was way better at this than me.
And why would they? In a bar filled with guys like that, there was no way anyone was giving me a second look. I was all set to head home and turned to make my way out of the bar - and that’s when it happened.
I felt rather than saw the impact of the three drinks; they all fell straight to the ground, none spilling on me.
Tall Hot Guy, however, wasn’t so lucky.
“What the fuck, man?” he complained, and shoved me back. His shirt was dripping with spilled beers. “This is why they shouldn’t let guys like you in here in the first place!”
I was going to explain again, but as if they were on a delay, his words finally hit me. My initial instinct - to offer to buy him another round to make up for it - suddenly fell away.
He just looked at me, both of us paralysed for a second.
And then I reached into my pocket and pressed the button.
It felt like time almost moving slower. I think that’s what the thing did - it slowed down other peoples’ thoughts, giving you room to slip in and make… adjustments.
Tall Hot Guy was still staring, and suddenly I found my voice.
“You don’t really think that. Tell the truth.”
“I don’t really think that,” he replied, in that sexy voice of his - just slower, and with somewhat less conviction.
“Tell me again: you think that guys like me should always get in here.”
“I think that guys like you should always get in here.”
“In fact, you’ve been waiting for a guy like me to come into this club your whole life, haven’t you?”
“Yeah…” he replied, seeming almost dazed. “My whole life.”
“And you’re so, so happy that I’m here now, aren’t you?” I asked. I nodded as I spoke, and suddenly he started nodding along with me.
“So… so happy you’re here,” he said.
I took a step towards him, putting my free hand on one of his strong arms. I squeezed his muscled bicep lightly, and he smiled a dopey smile.
“I’m going to snap my fingers in a sec,” I said, with no idea where all of this was coming from. “When I do, you’re gonna wake up, and you’re gonna realise that meeting me here tonight is the best thing that’s ever happened to you, aren’t you?”
He nodded, still smiling that dopey grin. “I so will. The best… the best thing ever.”
I realised something. “I haven’t asked yet, but what’s your name? Just telling me is going to feel amazing, I bet.”
“Todd”, he sighed, like someone had just lifted a huge weight off his shoulders. “Name’s… Todd.”
“Well, Todd,” I said, and suddenly… suddenly I felt a bit shy. The side of me that was still an incurable romantic wanted me to say something that just made me feel silly. “That means you’ll do anything to keep me around, doesn’t it?”
“Of course,” he replied. “Anything.”
“So it just makes sense,” I continued, “that you’d be happy to do anything I asked you to forever, right?”
He nodded, still smiling that dopey smile.
I let go of his arm, and he almost seemed upset. I let go of the button, the world went back to normal, and I closed my eyes, almost grimacing. I hoped this worked.
I snapped my fingers.
I was lying on the couch having a light nap when I felt the pressure on my feet. It was light at first, but soon the strong hands were digging in to my arches, working out sore spots I didn’t even know I’d had.
Hovering in that half-asleep, half-awake state, I hoped the last two days hadn’t been a dream.
“Mmmmm,” I hummed, lazily. “That feels good, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Master,” replied Todd, his deep voice soothing me out of my reverie. “Did you have a pleasant nap?”
Definitely not a dream, I thought to myself.
I nodded, and smiled. “I really needed it. After all, a whole day of being waited on really takes it out of a guy.”
Todd just smiled and continued to massage my feet. “It’s a pleasure to make you feel so well served, Master.”
“You know what else might make me feel well served… for the fifth time today, Todd?”
He just smiled as he pulled down my sweatpants, leaning down.
Some of his old roommates were going to come over later today, to see this new place Todd had moved into.
And I probably wouldn’t use the thing on them, I thought. Probably.