So this was originally inspired by 'When All Is Said and Done' by ABBA, but somewhere along the way the inspiration became 'Treat Me Like a Stranger' by Baillie and the Boys. So props to those two groups. Also it is completely unedited, but there shouldn't be too many mistakes. Have fun!—KG64 and Kiyoshi


Jacob walked into the bar, glancing around. He'd been to the place before and knew it was gay-friendly, which would be an advantage. Of course, there was the downside that he was in his mid-fifties, closer to sixty than fifty. Every day made it harder and harder to find someone. There were either young guys looking for someone their age or men his age looking for someone much younger, to take them back.

He was looking for someone younger himself, although he didn't want someone extremely young. Late forties, hopefully. What many of the younger guys failed to realize was that older men had more experience.

He really wasn't sure where he stood, if he was honest with himself. He was older, but at the same time, he was lean and fit, thanks to habits he had developed in the six years he was in the army. He figured he would simply scope the place out for a bit before approaching anyone. So he took a seat at the bar and ordered a whiskey, sipping on it thoughtfully as he glanced around the bar.


Patrick glanced around the bar. He was hoping he could find someone older, but willing. He'd always had a thing for older men, although it had been a while since the age he was attracted to was extreme enough that the other man could have been his father. When he was fifteen, it had been men in their early thirties. When he was twenty, it had still been that. He had resigned himself to always liking men of that age, and was only hoping that he'd continue being able to find someone willing.

Around the age of twenty-seven, however, he realized that the age of men he was attracted to was raising, settling on a steady seven or so year age difference.

Unfortunately, at forty-eight, it was getting harder for Patrick to find men who wanted him. He glanced around the bar once again, and then his eyes settled on a man in his fifties. He seemed fit and strong, healthy. Patrick made his way across the room, quite aware that he was likely in for a large amount of pain if the man turned out to be straight; the bar may have been gay-friendly, but it was far from being exclusively gay. And he wouldn't put it past the man before him to hit him if he pushed to hard.


Suddenly a man in his late forties approached Jacob. "Buy you a drink?" the man asked.

Jacob hesitated. He still wasn't sure if he really wanted to do this; it had been quite a while since he'd gone cruising. But then he decided to go with it, flirt a bit. "Aren't you a little young?" he asked.

The man grinned and called to the bartender, "Two of whatever he's having." Then he turned his attention back to Jacob. "I'm forty-eight. Is that too young?"

Jacob gave him a small smile. "If it doesn't bother you, I'm fifty-six." He knew he looked at least a couple years younger than he was.

"It doesn't bother me a bit," the man answered.

Jacob stretched out his hand. "Jacob Mowry."

The man returned the handshake, introducing himself, "Patrick McGinty. It's nice to meet you."

"The pleasure," Jacob replied, taking a sip of the whiskey the younger man had bought him. He was taking it slow, preferring his sex at least partially—if not completely—sober. And it wasn't as though this was going to be a mistake he regretted when he woke up; he'd considered coming here for several days. He'd been planning for this.

He thoughtfully examined the man before him. He had dark hair, speckled with grey, combed back in a way that suggested a high-paying corporate job, compared to his job as the owner of a small mechanic's shop and auto-parts store. He just smiled to himself. The man was a good three inches taller than him, lean muscles obvious beneath his dress shirt. The biggest question was why the man was wearing such a nice shirt in the rather dirty bar.

Jacob couldn't help but find this idiosyncrasy appealing.


Patrick knew the look in Jacob's eye; it was what a man did when he was checking another guy out—or checking a woman out, if he was straight. So he figured it was perfectly acceptable to check out the other man's looks in return.

He was wearing nothing more than a t-shirt, jeans and work boots, giving Patrick a nice few of toned arms. Either the man worked out or he actually worked for a living, as opposed to sitting behind a desk talking to idiots on the phone all day, which was basically what Patrick's job amounted to. He was inclined to think the latter, because Jacob's hands were rough and calloused. Patrick had to repress the heat that flooded to his lower stomach at the thought of how it would feel to have those rough hands caress every inch of his body.

His hair was a pale blond and thick, likely the reason he gave the impression of being several years younger than Patrick initially estimated. Already Patrick was wishing he could run his fingers through it, even though he hadn't even made it through his first whiskey; he was imitating the older man and sipping at his drink as opposed to tossing it.

"So, what are you doing on this fine evening?" he asked.

"Fine evening?" Jacob snorted. "It was pouring down rain when I got here."

"Fair enough," Patrick laughed, finishing his drink.

He raised his hand, signaling to the barkeep that he wanted another drink. But when he pulled out his wallet, Jacob stopped him, saying, "No, no, you bought the last round, it's my turn."

Patrick looked at the older man curiously, but nodded. They sat talking about nothing and everything for the next couple hours. Then Patrick said, "I hope I'm not being to forward, but I'd really like to kiss you."

Jacob laughed loudly. "I was wondering how long it was going to take you," he said. "But I figured I'd give you another glass before I made the first move." After their fourth shot—well, Patrick's fourth; he didn't know how many Jacob had had before he arrived—they had switched to Coke, not wanting to get wasted.

Patrick was pleased that Jacob didn't mind and leaned in to kiss the older man. To his surprise, it was Jacob who deepened the kiss, a hand slipping behind Jacob's neck to pull his head closer and a tongue darting deftly across his lip in a way that spoke of years of experience.

Patrick was only mildly surprised; he had been the pursuer so he had expected to have at least a modicum of control, but Jacob was easily leading. So Patrick parted his lips enough to let the older man slip his tongue inside.


Jacob continued tasting Patrick, all the places his tongue could reach, sucking and nibbling the younger man's lip. They pulled away for breath and Jacob murmured, "This isn't too comfortable at the bar. Shall we find a booth and continue?"

"God yes," was Patrick's panted answer. He stood and dragged Jacob to a dark corner booth that was—miraculously—empty, likely just vacated by another couple. They took it for themselves, slipping in on the same side, and Jacob once again took control of the situation.


Suddenly Patrick felt Jacob detach their lips, only to feel lips placing open-mouthed kisses on his neck. Then Jacob began sucking on the space just below Patrick's ear, a particularly erogenous area for the younger of the two. Patrick found it eerie if completely sexy how quickly Jacob found that point.

They were interrupted by two younger voices. "Okay, that's just wrong."

"I know," the second said. Both voices were male, and when Patrick pulled away from Jacob, he saw that they were holding hands and blatantly staring at him and Jacob. He wasn't quite sure what was wrong until the second of the two said, "People that old should not make out, especially in public."

Jacob snorted and said, "Several things, boys. One, if you're going to stare and talk about others, try to be subtle. Two, someday you'll either be making some guy you just met at a bar, or you'll be walking down the street in broad daylight, unable to keep your hands off your partner. Three, older men have more experience." Then, heedless of the onlookers, he leaned in and licked the shell of Patrick's ear. He then pulled back and said, "And more experience is never a bad thing." The suggestiveness in his voice and the look in his eyes made Patrick's pupils dilate and his cock twitch.

He pulled Jacob down for another torrid kiss, completely forgetting the now-embarrassed men, both of whom were young enough to be his children. When they once again ran out of breath, he gasped, "Back to my place?"

"I'd love to," was Jacob's response.


When they arrived at Patrick's apartment, Jacob didn't give much attention to the clean, modern decorations or the expensive furnishings. He just pinned the younger, slightly taller man against the door, mauling his mouth with tongue and teeth once more, finally earning a loud, throaty moan. "Bedroom?" Jacob eventually managed to ask.

They eventually made it to Patrick's bedroom, although it took an unprecedented amount of time, as they kept pressing each other into walls, knocking down several pictures and a table lamp as they went. Clothing was strewn behind them, various articles littering the hallway.

By the time they finally made it to Patrick's bedroom, both men were completely hard. Jacob didn't bother to ask, stripping off Patrick's underwear, his own following, their cocks rubbing together deliciously. He was still kissing and nipping at Patrick's neck and chest, although he somehow made time to ask, "Condoms? Lube?"

Patrick sat up just enough to search the bedside drawer. He pulled out some lube and then said, "Shit, I'm out of condoms."

Jacob glanced around the room, looking for his pants. When he realized they were somewhere down the hallway, he said, "Screw it, I'm clean. As long as you are, forget them."

Patrick groaned as Jacob went at his neck again, seeming to know exactly where to use teeth and where to use his tongue to make Patrick nearly-impossibly turned on. "Yeah, I am." He let out a small whimper as Jacob's finger pushed deep inside him.

Jacob was pleased with how vocal his bed-partner was being at the moment. It was wonderful, encouraging as he added a second finger.


Patrick writhed the moment Jacob found his prostate. Which was surprisingly quickly, something Patrick chalked up to the 'experience' Jacob spoke of earlier in the evening. It was a while before Jacob allowed Patrick to cover his cock in lube. He positioned himself over the younger man and pushed in.

It had been a while since Patrick had been on bottom when having sex, but he was so obviously not the dominant one tonight he didn't fight it. And it wasn't as though he didn't like being on bottom. It was just that—the last couple times he'd gotten laid—him being on top was how it had worked out.

The older man paused to let him adjust. He groaned, the feeling both wonderful and painful. Then he nodded and felt Jacob begin moving inside him. The man found his prostate and he cried out at the sensation. Which only seemed to encourage Jacob, as the man's motions got more enthusiastic, making him ram into Patrick's prostate with a surprising amount of force.

Patrick was suddenly aware of strong, thick, rough fingers stroking his cock in time with Jacob's thrusts. Suddenly the man on top of him became more erratic in his penetrations and Patrick worked himself up more, hoping to climax at the same time.

He was successful, climaxing only seconds after he felt Jacob let loose streams of hot seed inside him. Patrick's orgasm was just as powerful, spurting across Jacob's hand and his stomach. Jacob pulled out and collapsed next to him. They lay there in silence, enjoying the afterglow. Then, without a word, Jacob rose from the bed.

Patrick was about to call after him, but Jacob soon returned to the bed, having easily found the bathroom and a washcloth. He wiped them both clean and crawled back under the blankets with Patrick. Patrick rolled over, pillowing his head on his bedmate's chest. "That was fun," he remarked, finally breaking the long, comfortable silence. "We should do it again sometime."

He felt Jacob's laugh rumble through his chest. "Yes, I agree."

Patrick smiled and tilted his head back, silently asking for a kiss. Jacob obliged, this kiss soft and gentle. Then Patrick whispered, "I love you, Jakey."

"Love you too, Ricky," Jacob answered, pulling his partner close. "Always will, even when playing these ridiculous games of yours."

"You love it," Patrick accused.

"No, but I love you just enough to ignore that," Jacob argued.

Patrick sighed to himself, knowing Jacob was stubborn enough that he was never going to win the argument. So he cuddled closer to his lover and they quickly fell asleep in the bed they had shared for twenty years.


And that is that. I hope you enjoyed it. Once again apologies for any mistakes.-Kiyoshi'sGirl64 and Kiyoshi