theplatonicnonyeah: (mr1)
[personal profile] theplatonicnonyeah
Finally an update!

This is the third installment in a short series of stories as part of a request from some members of the Matthew Rhys Online forum, for something involving Philip Jennings and a man of Canadian nationality.

It is based on the character Philip Jennings in FX Network's show The Americans.
Julien Grenier is my own invention.
I own nothing and can take no credit for the invention of the original character.

Rating: PG, I think. There's really only kissing going on. Reference to drugs/alcohol, but no foul language.


Girl afraid

- Who’s a pretty boy, then?
Standing at the front of the queue leading into the club, the lanky transvestite balanced precariously on her platform heels. She was obviously intoxicated, perhaps high. It was hard to tell in this light, but Phillip thought her pupils looked diluted. He smiled politely in reply and turned to the bouncer at the door. The bouncer looked brutal with his shaved head and bomber jacket. He didn’t return the smile.

- I think I’m on the guest list for Julien Grenier, Phillip said. I’m Clive.
- Ooh, Clive! crooned the transvestite, who was now leaning in a little closer. That’s a nice name. Such a pretty boy.
Phillip felt a hand on his behind. He froze and quenched the instinct to grab the hand and twist it behind the transvestite’s back.
- Back off, Lola, said the bouncer in a low voice without looking up.
- It’s ok, Phillip said and moved a little to the left, out of reach.
- Right, said the bouncer and ticked Phillip off on a list, quietly nodding as he pulled open the door to the club.

The thumping base of ABBA’s ‘Voulez Vous’ increased in volume as Phillip stepped into the entrance area. There was a cloakroom, where a young man with bleach blond hair watched with disinterest as a scattering of people preened themselves for the night. Phillip removed his leather jacket, but just as he was about to hand it over, the blond man’s attention was suddenly directed towards something else happening behind Phillip. Lola the transvestite had been let inside with her entourage of young men in golden hotpants. Phillip stepped out of the way as the party congregated in cheek kisses and loud laughter. Holding on to his jacket, he made his way towards the source of the thumping music.

That day in the park, when Phillip had finally worked up the courage to let the phone ring long enough for Julien to pick it up, was still clear in his memory. Julien had sounded happy to hear his voice again and he seemed to accept Philip’s meandering excuse about a heavy workload stopping him from calling until a whole week after their…love-making…fuck session…whatever they had done that he didn’t really know what to call anymore, except that the thought of it still made him hard and slightly swoony.

Julien had invited him to the club the following Friday. It was going to be a private party, he had said. But when Philip entered what appeared to be the main room it looked just like any other crowded nightclub with a bar and a dance floor.

Except it was full of men. Just men.

The sheer testosterone assembly of the place took him aback. There were men openly making out, bodies close together, leaning against the walls or sitting in each other’s laps. On the dance floor bodies gyrated against each other, sweaty exposed torsos glistened in the blinking light as the disco music beat its rhythm into his chest. Those not keen on dancing were hanging at the bar, pretending to converse, while covertly watching the action on the dance floor.

Phillip felt himself grow tense and hyperaware of everything around him. He sidled up to the bar and ordered a beer, avoiding eye-contact with anyone other than the barman. Bottle in hand, he began making his way along the side of the dance floor towards the back of the club, peering into the shady corners for a sign of Julien.

He had tried to dress as inconspicuously as possible, because he wanted to blend in. But he quickly realised that he was becoming the focus of attention as new meat on the market. Everywhere he looked people – men – were observing him, smiling, commenting and whispering to each other. He realised it wasn’t just because they found him attractive, it was also because he had arrived alone and not made contact with anyone within the first 15 minutes: he was now considered willing prey. His solitude signalled an open invitation to physical advances.

A slight panic was building inside him, so he headed for the restroom area at the back of the club, hoping to find temporary refuge and work out his approach. He needed to somehow locate Julien.

But upon entering the men’s room he immediately realised this was not a place for rest. The sound of sex emanated from every other cubicle and when he looked closer, he could see most of them contained two pairs of feet visible below the door wedge.

He quickly turned around and headed back out into the loud music again, heart pounding wildly in his chest. The urge to flee was growing inside him and his eyes began searching for the emergency exit. But just as he spotted the faint green light of the sign with the running stick figure, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Swinging around, a little unsteady from the beer, but ready to push back an unwelcome suitor, he found himself looking straight into Julien’s clear blue eyes.

- Oh, hey! A little edgy tonight? Julien laughed.
- I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I wasn’t…I didn’t mean to…
- It’s ok. Come!
Julien tugged at his elbow and began leading him back towards the restroom area again. Phillip pulled back, hesitating.
- I don’t want to…
- What?
Julien turned around and looked at him. He said:
- We’re upstairs. Come on. It’s fine, it’s much quieter there.
- Oh, upstairs?
Phillip blinked, confusion on his face. Julien laughed:
- Yes, upstairs. What did you think…?
- Nothing, nothing.
Phillip laughed blushingly and followed Julien as he turned left at the restrooms and opened an anonymous-looking door. A narrow staircase led upwards into a red light. Closing the door behind them, Julien gently pushed Phillip up against the wall of the staircase and started kissing him. The thumping base from the music in the club outside vibrated through Phillip’s body. Pulling Julien in against him with greedy desire, he parted his lips and succumbed to the kiss.

- I’ve missed you, Julien said as they broke the kiss. Let’s go upstairs. I want you to meet my friends.
- Your friends? Phillip said.
- Yes, my friends. Don’t you think I have friends? Julien said with a wink.
- No, of course you do...I just…yes, of course.
- Come!
Julien grabbed his hand and lead him up the stairs. A dim red light revealed a short corridor with two numbered doors on each side and a plain steel one at the end to the left. He could hear the faint sound of music and laughter from behind the different doors.
- We’re in number 2. It’s the Kasbah, Julien giggled and tugged at Phillip to follow him inside.
- Do we have to? Phillip asked, pulling back his hand and stopping. Julien turned around, his eyes searching Phillip’s.
- What’s wrong? he said.
- I just wanted to see you, Phillip said. I think maybe I should go.

The feeling of control he had just regained was beginning to escape him again. There was no way of knowing who was in that room and he couldn’t ask, because how would he ask? Suspicion suddenly filled his mind. And yet, he wanted to be with Julien so badly, right now, even if it meant just kissing him in a dimly lit corridor above a nightclub.

Julien cupped his hand to Phillip’s face, stroking the cheekbone with his thumb. He said:
- Why are you afraid?
Phillip opened his mouth, but no words came out. He wanted to feel Julien’s lips against his own again. He needed the reassurance, because everything suddenly felt like quicksand and he was slowly sinking deeper into it. His body had gone tense again and he realised his hands were clenched, as if preparing for an attack. Julien noticed it too and carefully closed his fingers around Phillip’s wrist, bringing Phillip’s hand up to his mouth.
- It’s ok. We can go somewhere else, if you want. Do you want to…?
Phillip nodded, watching as Julien pressed his lips against the outside of his fist, making him relax the hand again. He leaned in closer and replaced his hand with his mouth against Julien’s, searching for his tongue. Slowly letting go, they remained standing for a while, close together, but not really touching.
- I want to be with you, Phillip whispered.
- I need to get my coat. Wait for me outside on the fire escape, Julien said and pointed towards the door at the end of the corridor.

The night air was cool. He inhaled the smell of city fumes, registering the sound of sirens in the distance. The fire escape led down into an empty back street just off the street with the main entrance to the club. Surprisingly, no one was using the dark passage to relieve their bladder, he noticed. But it was still early, the party people were just beginning to arrive. Later, this place might see more debauched action.

Julien stepped out onto the steel landing.
- Where should we go? There’s a bar around the corner. It’s usually a bit quieter, he said.
- I’d rather not…
- Be seen anywhere in public?
There was a moment’s silence as they stared at each other. Phillip looked away, down towards the dusky street below them and then at the house opposite, where there was only one window near the corner a few storeys up. The window was dark, broken blinds hanging halfway down the pane.
- Clive, I get that there’s something you’re not telling me. And I…
Julien trailed off as Phillip met his eyes again.
- Do you want to go to a hotel? Phillip asked abruptly.
- A hotel? Sure. Ok. If you want.
- Yes. I want that.
- We can go to a hotel, Julien nodded.
But neither of them moved.
- It’s cold, Julien said after a while, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his coat.
- Yes, Phillip replied. He put his arms around Julien and kissed him on the neck, just below the ear. - We should go. I know a place.





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