Backbacking with the Boys – Part 3

Everyone in this story is 18+

The four of us made our way through the Parisian streets, looking for a nightclub, it was hard to not think about the earlier encounter with the Italian tourist in the shower. What would the others say if they knew? I thought as we found a nightclub we wanted to check out. I reached down to my pocket to fish out my ID, but it wasn’t there!

"Fuck, guys! I forgot my ID."

Asher put his hand over my back. "Don't worry, mate, that stubble on your chin will probably work as ID. Let’s just try," he smiled.

"But I don’t have any money either," I objected.

"Don't worry, my treat," Asher smirked as the bouncer looked us over and said, "Entrez, amusez-vous !"

Asher responded, "Merci, nous le ferons, Monsieur."

"Come on, lads." I followed him into the club, relieved.

The pulsating beats of the music reverberated through the crowded nightclub, a kaleidoscope of flashing lights illuminating the dance floor. I could feel the energy in the air, a heady mix of excitement and the promise of adventure. As the night wore on, the thrill of our Paris escapade swept through me like a wave, pushing aside any lingering thoughts from my earlier encounter.

Brady was lost in the rhythm, his arms flailing as he danced like no one was watching, while Asher attempted to maintain an air of cool detachment, sipping his drink and rolling his eyes at Brady's antics. Cameron stood slightly apart from us, his brow furrowed and his expression somewhat off.

“Hey, you okay, Cam?” I asked, nudging him with my shoulder. The bass thumped around us, but he looked a little lost.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, and while Cameron was always sweet and well-tempered, he was usually quite enthusiastic, which added to my worry.

“Just feeling a bit under the weather, I guess,” he added, trying to brush it off.

I frowned, scanning his face for any signs of genuine illness. “You sure? We can take a break if you need to.”

He shook his head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nah, I think I’m going to head back to the hostel. Just need to relax a bit. You guys enjoy yourselves.”

“Are you sure?” Asher chimed in, concern creeping into his voice. “You don’t want to miss out on the fun. It’s our first night in Paris!”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just tired from the traveling, you know? I’ll catch up with you later,” Cameron insisted, already backing away from the thrumming crowd.

“Alright, if you’re sure,” Brady said, his dance moves momentarily paused. “But don’t let the bedbugs bite!”

Cameron laughed weakly, waving us off as he made his way to the exit. I watched him go, a knot of worry twisting in my stomach.

“Let’s keep the party going!” Brady shouted over the music, clearly unaffected by Cameron’s departure. He grabbed my arm, pulling me into the throng of dancers. Asher followed, shaking his head but smiling slightly as he joined the fray.

As I lost myself in the sea of bodies, I couldn’t help but think about how Cameron had this innocent charm that made him feel almost like a brother to me, the polar opposite of rowdy Brady, who thrived in chaos.

As the night wore on, the music continued to thump in my chest, and the atmosphere buzzed with laughter and excitement. Asher was in top form, his face lighting up with a cheeky grin as he teased Brady, “Come on, mate! You call that dancing?” Brady shot him a playful shove, and even he, usually the loudest in the room, couldn’t help but crack a smile, laughing harder than anyone else.

But as the night rolled forward, I couldn’t shake the thought of Cameron, all alone back at the hostel. I glanced at my phone, just as we approached the entrance of a new club.

Finally reaching the front, a bouncer with a stern expression blocked our path. “IDs, s'il vous plaît,” he said, his gaze scanning our group.

I fumbled for my wallet, only to realize my ID was back at the hostel. “Oh, shit,” I muttered, turning to the guys. “I left my ID back at the hostel. I can’t get in.”

Brady groaned, frustration evident on his face. “What? Seriously? But this is the best nightclub!”

Asher, with his usual quick wit, leaned in with a grin. “Don’t worry, Daniel! You’re just too young to be out this late!” He nudged me playfully.

“Very funny,” I replied, shaking my head.

The bouncer raised an eyebrow, clearly not amused by our banter. Asher quickly stepped forward, speaking in rapid French, “Monsieur, mon ami a oublié son identification. Est-ce que vous pourriez faire une exception?”

The bouncer crossed his arms, his expression softening slightly, but he shook his head. “Non, je ne peux pas. Pas d'ID, pas d'entrée.”

“Sorry mate, he won’t budge,” Asher said to me, rolling his eyes.

I sighed, looking back at the group. “Okay, let me run and get the ID. I’ll be right back, and I can check on Cameron and make sure he’s okay while I’m at it.”

“Alright. We’ll catch you later,” Asher said, clapping me on the back.

“Yeah, see you later. And try to bring Cameron back too. I have faith in you, Nurse Danny boy,” he jested.

“Haha, very funny. But we’ll see. I’ll be right back.” I said as I exited the line and headed back to the hostel.

As I made my way back to our room, I immediately felt a surge of anxiety when I heard Cameron inside. It sounded like he might be in pain. I quickly scanned the room key card and pulled the door open. My eyes darted straight to Cameron's bed. It became apparent that the moans were not of pain but of pleasure! There he lay, on all fours, my friend being pounded by someone with a hairy Italian ass I immediately recognized. They were both lost in ecstasy and didn’t hear me at first. But after a couple of seconds of me standing there frozen, my mouth agape, Cameron suddenly noticed me. “DAN! This is not—I am not—…”