They'd been spending big enough in the club that they had a gaggle of
chorus girls at their table. One called Annie was sitting in Tad's lap
He looked up when Bill stood.
"Going back to the hotel to read?" Diego asked with a laugh.
"Nah, I just have a different kind of girl in mind tonight."
"What kind of girl could be better than these?" Patrick said, catching
the one who'd been flirting with Bill by the wrist and pulling her in
to him. She giggled as he groped her ass and he smirked back and forth
between her and the other girl who was already cuddled up against his
side. Bill just gave a jaunty wave and headed for the door. "He's a
nutter," Patrick added.
"He's right smart," Tad said. He pushed more feathers aside and buried
his face in Annie's luscious cleavage. "But you're exactly what I'm
looking for tonight, babe."
Tad arrived back at their (bungalow) and collapsed onto the couch next
to Bill with a lusty sigh. There was half a glass of sherry on the
table and he picked it up and drank too much of it for one sip. He
tilted his head back to let it settle.
"Sandra's really sweet. A really nice girl." She was a new secretary
in the office, pretty, helpful, and so he'd asked her for a date.
"A nice girl," Bill repeated. He sounded a little toasted himself.
"A nice girl. I always want to go out with the nice girls at lunch
time when I ask them. And then at the end of dinner I remember what
the problem with that is." His head was still heavy and he let it
droop sideways onto Bill's shoulder. "I walk her back to her bunk and
say goodnight and get a kiss on the cheek and tomorrow I have to bring
her a little gift and say how lovely the evening was. And then I come
home to you."
Bill turned his head. "Too nice," he whispered. His breath was warm
and damply tickling against Tad's ear.
"I'm thinking chocolates. There's no flowers in the company store and
girls always like chocolates."
"Not what you like." Bill's lips were moving softly against the corner
of Tad's jawbone.
Tad mumbled in frustration. He'd known the evening was going nowhere
before they even sat down in the cafeteria and here he was, just the
right level of wined and dined and getting hard thinking about
Sandra's gorgeous legs, with nothing to do about it and Bill's
low-voiced statement not helping. "I guess that's why God gave us left
hands as a last resort."
Turning further, Bill's knee pushed against his. He closed his teeth
on Tad's earlobe and Tad pumped his hips up involuntarily as the
pressure went straight to his dick. Bill's hand was suddenly resting
heavy and solid low on his belly. He sucked on Tad's ear for a moment
longer and then released it. "I have a better idea," he said, voice
husky. His hand slid down to Tad's crotch and pressed him through his
trousers. Tad closed his eyes. Bill nuzzled his neck as his fingers
unfastened Tad's belt and fly and plunged inside. He took a firm grip
on Tad's dick and started stroking.
A laugh welled up in Tad's throat and he couldn't stop himself.
"Reminds me of high school."
"Does it now?" Bill sounded suddenly sharp and intrigued.
"The baseball team sometimes after we won a game… Nothing like the
thrill of victory…" He fumbled past Bill's arm like a nervous kid,
reaching for his friend's belt. Bill was just as hard as he was,
thrusting into his hand, biting his jaw and throat, knees sharp
against Tad's thigh. He sighed.
Maybe a lot like jerking off himself, a hand on his dick and a dick in
his hand, but Bill was right, it was better. He felt Bill shuddering
sticky over his hand and still gripping him through it and groaned and
came brightly a moment later. He lay draped back over the couch in
soft contentment. Bill pulled out his handkerchief and wiped at them
both before standing up.
"Any time, Tad," Bill said, or maybe not, it was too quiet to hear him
right. Then he was gone.
Tad went out with Sandra a few more times but it was clear she was
angling for a husband, so he had to let her down gentle after a bit.
They were stumbling drunkenly down the street in Majorca, having left
one bar, and now being in search of another. They passed a brightly
lit open door with loud music and many voices inside and swerved
toward it. Two men came out in front of them, laughing, holding hands.
They cast swift inquiring glances over the group.
"Dirty queers," Patrick said loudly. "It makes me sick." The two men
dropped apart and stepped quietly and quickly past them. "Wanna smash
their faces in sometimes." Bill had kept on walking.
It wasn't hurting anyone, so Tad didn't care if they wanted to be
queer inside some club. He slung an arm around Patrick's neck. "Come
on, mate, I'm thirsty."
"Yes, to the next bar and to the wine, allons-y," Guillaume crowed.
"We've lost Bill," Diego added, pointing to him marching up the block
with set shoulders. He jostled Patrick and they all came along.
Tad's head was spinning. He didn't have another run for a few days but
he ought to know better than to drink so much right after landing from
such a long haul. His arm over Bill's shoulders and Bill's arm around
his waist were about all that was keeping them upright. Guillaume and
Bobby weren't in much better shape as they peeled off to their
bungalow, whistling tunelessly and leaning on each other.
Bill opened the door and they maundered across the living room,
ricocheting off the couch arm and fetching up against the hard edge of
the doorjamb of Tad's bedroom. Tad tried to step inside and almost
fell before Bill caught him again.
"I always have to pour you into bed, Thaddeus." He was laughing.
They made it the last few steps with both of Tad's arms wrapped around
Bill's neck. He fell into bed, still holding on and pulling Bill down
heavy on top of him with an oof.
"It's cold," he said, even though it was hot with Bill covering him.
Bill tried to sit up. "It's a thousand degrees here, like usual."
"It's always cold in an empty bed."
Bill gazed down at him with dark dreamy eyes and then he was pushing
Tad's shirt up and licking at his chest and nipples. He moved lower
and a blurry moment later he took Tad's sudden erection in his mouth.
Tad bucked up in surprise. Only the loosest of women ever did that.
Now Bill's normally quiet and reserved tongue was doing filthy
complicated things against his dick.
"Lord's name in vain, how do you-" He gasped, because that was amazing.
Then Tad whimpered when Bill actually stopped long enough to reply.
"Roommate in fourth form."
But he went right back to what he'd been doing and Tad clutched at his
shoulders and hair in wonder. He had never been sucked quite like this
before. Every individual detail of fingers and lips and tongue and
teeth and throat built into an overwhelming haze. He moaned Bill's
name incoherently when it all exploded in a massive orgasm.
Bill pulled away afterward and Tad obeyed in sleepy satiation as Bill
disencumbered him of his boots and trousers and tucked the sheet up
and around him. "Go to sleep," Bill said, standing by the side of the
bed and running his hand softly over Tad's forehead. "Goodnight."
"G'night," Tad mumbled back. "G'night, Bill," he said again as Bill
was framed in the doorway.
"G'night, Tad," Bill said and closed the door.
Tad knocked on Bill's door and entered when he heard the affirmative
response. Bill was sitting up in bed in his pajamas reading.
"I've been thinking," Tad said.
Bill grinned. "Always a bad idea for you."
Tad pulled his t-shirt over his head and leaned back against the wall,
dangling it from his fingers, other thumb hooked into a beltloop on
his jeans. Bill closed the book and set it on the bedside table.
Dropping his shirt, Tad ambled over and settled on the side of the
bed, leaning down to unlace his shoes. Bill reached out and slid a
hand slowly up his curved spine.
His hand came to rest on the back of Tad's neck as Tad straightened up
again. Those nimble fingers rubbed deep, slow circles into his
muscles, easing the tightness there.
"What were you thinking about?" Bill whispered.
Tad twisted around and took Bill's face in both his hands. "This," he
said, and kissed him. Bill sounded a shocked murmur against his mouth
and grasped his arms and kissed back.