Pictures of Vegas Pt. 1

[This is the first installment of a story I wrote last year. It is my first m/m story, and it has never been published before. I hope you enjoy it.]

Jonathan reached for his cigarette lighter but grabbed a handful of blond locks instead. He opened one eye and saw that his new companion from last night was still in his bed. Jonathan sighed. He missed the days when he could bed a pretty young man who would be gone by the morning. He hated having to kick someone out of his bed.

He stroked the fine, blond hair with one hand. He was so bad at remembering names. Was this one Peter? Or Julian? He remembered talking to a Peter the previous night, but everything was a blur after the seventh round of martinis.

Peter or Julian opened his eyes and smiled. He fluttered his long lashes at him. "Good morning, Jonathan."

Jonathan ran his thumb over his heart-shaped lips. "Good morning."

The blond yawned, stretching his long arms over his head. He arched his back like a cat and rolled to his side. The blanket barely draped his lithe frame, exposing one long thigh.

Jonathan smiled at the young man's boldness. If he had time, he could go for a second round. He glanced at the wall clock. He really needed to get some work done today.
The young man ran his fingertips over Jonathan's arm. "Do you want me to make you some breakfast?"

"I don't eat breakfast." He slid away from the friendly touch and walked towards the closet. Without turning around, he said, "I've got a ton of stuff to do today. Maybe I'll give you a call sometime."

"How about some coffee?"

"Help yourself. I need to shower and get going."

He chuckled. "I suppose that's my cue to get the hell out of here."

Jonathan shrugged. He hated scenes like this. He grabbed a fresh towel and headed for the bathroom.

Peter or Julian was already putting on his jeans. "I'll just grab my things and be out of your way."

"I'm sorry, but I've got a busy morning."

The other man shrugged. "You don't need to explain." Holding his shirt and jacket, he walked towards the front door with brisk steps. Without looking at Jonathan, he said, "Have a nice life, jerk."

Jonathan glanced around the living room to see if anything was out of place. The blond had only left with his clothes, but you could never be too careful. The word "jerk" echoed in his mind. He lost track of the times he'd been called that.

He shrugged. The young man would get over it. It probably wasn't the first time he went home with someone he met at the bar. Jonathan thought about the long lines in the young man's body. It was too bad that he remembered so little about that night.
When he went to the bathroom, he dug through the wastebasket. Relief made his knees buckle when he found the deflated condom. One less detail to worry about.

He heard a familiar voice in his head: when are you going to grow up? Do you think you can keep partying like a twenty-year-old? Wake up, or you'll just end up another thirty-something pervert trolling the clubs for cheap sex.

Another voice on his answering machine interrupted his thoughts. He recognized the husky voice of his magazine's editor. "Jonathan, there's been a change of plans. The July shoot will take place in Vegas. I'll have Cindy book your flight. See you then."

Jonathan groaned. An outside shoot in the blistering Vegas heat. He was not looking forward to this assignment. He could turn it down, but he'd have to kiss any future gigs goodbye.

He shook his head. He hadn't been back to Las Vegas in three years. He wondered if he would see any familiar faces there.

To Be Continued...