Hall Pass: Part 1 (Patreon)

I'm back into it with a new story. A couple give each other a fantasy 'hall pass' to fuck other guys, which then becomes reality

Ok so I've finally (mostly) got over my writer's block and gotten stuck in again. In my last post I explained how I was trying to decide between returning to a half-finished story I'd set aside several months ago, or starting something new. And in the end I decided to go for something new. Hope you guys like it.

Bradley and I had never talked about giving each other a hall pass before. I guess I must have been hiding under a rock all my life or something because, honestly, I’d never even heard of the concept until that night we met up with Ross and Lance for dinner during our holiday in Sydney. 

At that point we were two nights into a six day trip for Mardi Gras, which is something we’d both been wanting to do for years but never quite managed because we’d always leave it too late and find all the events booked and the hotel prices jacked up beyond belief. We were out at a restaurant in Darlinghurst, the gay neighbourhood, which was wild to me because I’d never been to a city that had a whole neighbourhood for us. Looking around the restaurant most of the tables were mostly men, and mostly hot, too. I guess thats to be expected in a town full of guys who are primed for the male gaze, and live close enough to one of the world’s top beaches that they can manage to maintain a permanent tan. I have to admit I felt conspicuously plain in this city.

Ross and Lance were telling us about the Mardi Gras after-party. “There’s a bunch of different zones, but you want to be in the main one just after midnight because that’s when the main act comes on.”

“Who’s the main act?” Bradley asked.

Ross shrugged. “They never announce it, you just have to be there on the night for the surprise.”

“But the rumour is it’s Troye Sivan this year,” said Lance. “Which means we have to be there. I mean, the guy’s my hall pass. So I have to make sure I’m there at the front of the crowd so he can notice me and take me back to his dressing room after.”

I looked at him blankly. “What’s a hall pass?” I asked.

Everyone at the table looked at me like I’d just asked them to explain gravity or something.“Surely you guys have hall passes,” Lance said. “Every couple give each other hall passes right?”

Bradley seemed to understand the question because he shook his head. But I must have looked sufficiently confused that Lance felt the need to explain what he meant. “You know, like a freebie? One person that you have permission to fuck outside your relationship if you get the chance.”

I shook my head. “We’re not open.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Of course. Neither are we.. mostly. That’s not really the point.”

“What is the point?” I asked.

“It’s your ticket — your right — to hook up with someone unbelievably hot without it being a violation, and without the other one being allowed to get upset about it. That’s why it’s always a celebrity, someone who’s a long shot,” Ross added.

“Speak for yourself,” said Lance, an expression of mock offence on his face. “We’ll see at the after-party if he was a long shot or not.”

Everyone laughed, and Ross gave Lance a sympathetic pat on the back “I believe in you, babe,” he said in the least convincing tone possible.

“So who does Ross get to fuck then?” Bradley.

“His is one of the Hemsworths,” Lance replied, “but I can never remember which one — which is it babe?”

“Well I was making an argument for it to be all of them,” Ross said. “But if I have to narrow it down then it’s got to be the one with the big hammer.” He gestured an indication of the size of said hammer.

“So who would yours be?” Lance asked.

I thought it over for a few seconds. “Henry Cavill?” I said, not entirely sure of my choice.

Lance rolled his eyes — I was starting to notice he does that a lot. “A tad basic, but an understandable choice,” Ross said. He looked to Bradley. “And you?”

Bradley didn’t need time to think it over, the answer was obviously on the tip of his tongue already. “Luca Rivera,” he said.

Judging by the blank looks on Ross and Lance’s faces the name must have been as unfamiliar to them as it was to me. “Who?” Lance asked.

“Have you guys seen that new TV show, Conquestus?” he said.

“The one with all the gays in ancient Greece?” Ross asked.

“Rome. But yeah that’s the one.” 

Ross thought for a second before it clicked. “Oh,” he said, “I think I know who you mean. The slutty one? Wavy black hair, ethnically ambiguous, big fuck-me eyes?”

“Yeah, that’s the one, Bradley replied. 

“I don’t think I know who you mean,” I told him. Period dramas weren’t my thing, and ancient Rome definitely wasn’t my thing. 

“You’ll know him,” Bradley said. “He was in that film we watched a couple of years back, called Release, about the guy who got out of prison and falls in love with the hot nerd?”

“Oh yeah,” I said, trying to picture it. “So it’s the ex-con?”

“No, the nerd.”

Lance was on his phone by that point. “Oh, I see now,” he said. “Very good choice.” He turned the phone around to show me. I only vaguely recognised the face, but god, those eyes. And those thick, lush brows. Those full, soft lips. This guy had supermodel-level beauty. Even if I didn’t know who he was I could see why Bradley would be interested. 

I realised I could feel the heat of my face flushing, which was weird: it was only a photo after all. The guy wasn’t real — I mean, obviously he was a real person but he was a celebrity so removed from our lives that he might as well be fictional. I was never going to meet him, and Bradley was never going to meet him either. But I thought about how easily this guy had come to mind for Bradley, and I wondered if he’d fantasised about him before. And for a second I wondered what would happen if they actually met, and to my surprise the idea excited me a little.

“He’s handsome,” I said, understatement of the evening.

“So what do you reckon, can he be my hall pass?” Bradley asked with a laugh.

“Don’t see why not,” I said. “As long as I can fuck the man of steel if we ever run into him.”

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

I would have probably never thought about that conversation again. That is, if we hadn’t run into Luca Rivera in the hotel lift that very same night.

What are the chances, seriously? It’s almost inconceivable that out of every place in the world he could possibly be that night, he just happened to be in the same hotel as Bradley and me.

We’d just got back to the hotel. It was a pretty upmarket one; we’d decided to splash out and treat ourselves to something luxurious since we’d been waiting for this trip for such a long time. I wouldn’t have thought the place was celebrity-level lux though. I guess I was wrong. Or maybe he just hadn’t started making the big money yet.

Either way, there he was.

We’d just gotten into the lift when he darted in, just as the doors were starting to close. At first I didn’t notice him, other than that he was obviously a good-looking guy — the kind I usually avoided looking at for more than a split second out of a life-long fear of being caught checking out guys who were out of my league. But I noticed Bradley tense up and suddenly seem on edge, and when I glanced at his face he had this deer-in-headlights look on him. For a moment I wasn’t sure what was wrong, but then I took a better look at our elevator companion’s face and realised it was the same one from the photo on my phone earlier.

Holy shit. Luca Rivera was in our hotel. In our elevator. 

I froze up just like Bradley. The two of us were silent, dead still, barely daring to breathe.

I don’t know why I was so shook. I’d only just heard of the guy tonight, so it’s not like I was fanboying. I’d seen celebrities before. And by the sound of it this guy wasn’t even B list.

Okay, I take it back. I know exactly why. It’s because here I was, standing next to my partner and the guy he was lusting over. The guy I’d literally just given him permission to cheat on me with. 

Nothing happened though. Of course it wouldn’t. Bradley didn’t say anything to him, and neither did I. And after about thirty seconds the lift doors opened at our floor, and the two of us got out without saying a thing to him. But I did notice Bradley and Luca’s eyes meet as we were getting out, and I’m pretty sure I saw the faintest hint of a smile on Luca’s face.

When the lift door shut Bradley turned to me. “Oh my god,” he said, his eyes wide. “Do you know who that was?”

“Your hall pass, right?” I replied.

“He must be staying in the same hotel as us. What are the chances?”

“Right? Crazy.”

There was a long silence, and I had a feeling we were both thinking the same thing but Bradley was too shy to bring it up. So I did. “You didn’t make a move,” I said. “Even though you’ve got a hall pass.” I laughed, to try break the tension and make it seem like I wasn’t taking it too seriously.

He didn’t seem to take it as a joke though. “I couldn’t!” he said. “That wasn’t serious, it’s just a game, not actual permission to hook up with someone.”

“I thought permission was the whole point,” I replied, still trying to keep the tone light even though, listening to myself try and convince my partner of… what, exactly?

Bradley cocked his head, a skeptical expression on his face. “So you would have been okay if I’d  started hitting on him? Asked him out?”

It was strange. Maybe it was just because I’d had one drink too many at dinner, but thinking about it in the moment I didn’t think I would have minded. Maybe I even would have found it kind of exciting.

“You would have been okay if I’d left you to go back to our room alone while I went back to his?” Bradley continued.

I shrugged. “I mean, he’s your hall pass.”

Bradley gave me an even more skeptical-looking raise of the eyebrows. “Okay then,” he said, the tone suggesting I might regret what I’d said.

That was the end of the conversation. But when I fucked him that night there was an extra charge in the room; I fucked him harder than usual and he backed up on my cock like a desperate slut, moaning like I haven’t heard him in years. I’m not sure if it was just down to it being holiday sex in a flashy hotel room, or if it was somehow made different by the lingering thoughts — definitely in my head, and presumably in his — about the fantasy of him being with Luca Rivera.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

I thought that would be the end of it, just a funny anecdote we’d be able to share with our friends: the random luck of meeting Bradley’s hall pass, the “what if” of having missed his opportunity. We’d all have a laugh speculating about what would have happened — something I was starting to realise I might not mind all that much. I did wonder though, was Bradley going to be disappointed he didn’t shoot his shot with this guy? Would he look back and be disappointed about me, and our relationship, and that it stopped him being with the hottest, most famous man he’d ever laid eyes on?

Turned out I didn’t need to worry about that. Because when Bradley returned from his workout the following morning he had this look on his face and this air of agitation like he was busting to tell me about something but also hesitant about revealing it.

“What is it?” I asked, sensing immediately that something was up.

“I ran into Luca Rivera again,” he said. “In the gym.”

“Oh?” Interestingly, I could notice my pulse pick up a tiny amount. “Did you hit on him this time?” I asked, trying to make it sound like a joke.

But it took him a second to reply, and that’s all it took for me to realise that he obviously had.

“He asked me out,” Bradley said. “On a date. Tonight.”