Who Takes Care Of Billy? (HCL/Eastwick) for malnpudl
Title: Who Takes Care Of Billy?
Author: mamaffy
Recipient: malnpudl - I hope you like it.
Fandom: Hard Core Logo / Eastwick
Pairing: Billy/Darryl
Word Count: ~2900
Rating: R
Thanks: Many thanks and lots of love for my betas. mizface for her lightning fast and encouraging comments and awesome suggestions and endcredits who is just too nice and challenged me in all the right ways. I am lucky for their support and it's totally my fault that they haven't seen the latest version - I ran out of time. ETA: Also to dvldb for her great thoughts on Billy and idreamedmusic and surya74 for their time and cheer.
Summary: Set early in the movie. It starts with Billy, taking a little detour before he meets up with Joe and the guys.
The call came out of the blue. I was just bitching about the legwork to land decent gigs when my phone rang. The girl said 10 am but now, the dude's making me wait.
It's fancy in here. An office in an hotel suite, all glass, leather, and shades of grey. There are red tulips by the window, probably fake, too perfect to be real. Different kinds of drinks are on the table in front of me. Tiny bottles for people who can't be thirsty. Even tinier glasses and little bottle-openers.
There are also cherries and I try one as I slouch back. For fruit they aren't bad. I grab the bowl and put it beside me. Joe'd wanna spit pits. I'd kick his ass. But I reach for a napkin and put that next to me, too.
I bump my head back, close my eyes, and work on a song. I clap the intro on my thigh and move my fingers over the seam of my jeans. Mental practice's handy when there's no guitar. Also your fingers don't bleed, which is a plus.
The door opens and he walks in, no knocking. It's him, his photo is everywhere. Dark hair and blue eyes, I'd say contact lenses. His suit is slim-cut, bordering on too small, and his grin is either friendly or creepy. Maybe a bit of both. Too much swing in his step for my liking.
"Billy Tallent," he says like he enjoys saying my name.
"In the flesh." I lean forward to take his hand, even lift my butt slightly. It's what you do.
"Very nice to meet you. My name is Darryl van Horne. I'm glad you made it."
I give him a quick nod. "My pleasure. Nice happenstance that I'm in Calgary anyway. I have this gig tonight, it's kind of a small charity thing with my former band."
"Isn't that good luck?" he smirks. "I like the sound of former."
I smirk right back because what's there to say? He takes off his jacket, folds it over a chair and focuses on me again. I watch him loosen his tie and open his cuffs and I think he wants me to. It's not a front to check me out, that's something he doesn't try to hide. He's one vain guy. And I've seen vanity.
"You put the talent right in your name," he says, taking up a lot of room with his gestures. "I like that. Few things bore me like modesty."
I wait for him to sit down but he doesn't. "Thanks, I guess."
"Not that you use your talent wisely," he adds and wrinkles his nose. "You play in small ponds. Why is that? Lack of balls?"
I snort and scratch my jaw. "My balls are just fine, Mr. van Horne."
"Mmm." He raises his eyebrows and shoots me a dirty smile. "Now that's promising. Let's put them to good use then. It's my area of expertise."
I chuckle and put my elbows on the back of the couch. "Lucky me. So let's hear your offer. You should know, though, that I have other opportunities."
"You mean Jenifur? First, you need to think bigger and second, it won't work out."
"What?" I snarl. "I'm not here to discuss this with you."
"High maintenance, are you? A good quality in a star." The tip of his tongue slips out briefly. "Me, I am here to discuss this with you. I'm all about supporting the arts."
I lean forward and give him a stern look. "And that means what exactly?"
"You settle for the background. I don't get that. You should be number one and nothing less."
He's starting to piss me off. "And you'd make that happen? I don't bye it, I've been doing this for a while."
"Pushy, too? Oh, marry me." He makes an appreciative noise, then grows more serious. "Fear is a useless emotion. You've got the skills and you got the looks. Actually, you're more than easy on the eyes. In a raggedy way. Not my usual, but very sexy."
I let that sink in. "Is that a come-on? Are you offering help in exchange for a fuck?"
He acts like I said something funny. "No, my advice is yours if you want it. But I do have some talents of my own and I'd use them on you. For free."
I look at him bemused, our eyes are locked. He thinks he's god's gift and ya, he's not ugly.
I sit there for a while and wonder whether he'd back down, given time. Darryl's a weird name. It fits and that's no compliment. I don't trust him. He knows how to make a buck, though, and I want in on that.
I get up and his grin is fading. He watches me with curiosity as I close the space between us. "Fine, then." I pull my shirt over my head, rumple it into a ball, and throw it behind me. "Here's the deal. Condoms and lube are obligatory and no funny business. You're free to ask but, word of advice, if you think you gotta ask, I'm probably not up for it."
I go for my belt and make it slow. "And another thing: You spill any of this - I'll talk trash about you. Might not ruin you but I'll make it hurt. Let's keep it friendly." I give him my best boyish smile and my eyes are on his open mouth. "You wanna kiss? I'm all for that."
The first two buttons of my jeans are undone but the third one's a bitch. I look down to see what's what and that's when I feel his hands on mine.
"Very tempting." His breath brushes my ear and that's no help with the button. "We'll get to that. And there'll be kissing." He turns away from me and walks to his desk. "Let's talk details, first. See what fits in our schedules."
I snicker into my palm, had a feeling he's all talk. While he's playing busy with his papers, I re-do my jeans as loud as I can, plop back on the sofa, and ask, "Can I smoke in here?"
*~*~*
Long story short, he wants to see me in action. He'll be at the show tonight and, fuck me, he'll be so out of place. I almost feel sorry for him. Not really, though. He won't listen, he deserves what he gets.
It's the first show of the tour and I wanna nail it. Joe whines that I'm killing the mood. He wants to celebrate, so I take a bottle. I even laugh in all the right places when the old jokes rise up. Now and then I get up and move through the room. Just to loosen my hips and feel the music. Also to swap a full bottle with an emptier one that's standing around. I'm on my way back to the couch when Joe comes up behind me. Tells me I'm a skinny loser and my dancing sucks. His palms are on my thighs and his head's next to mine. I lean into him, I've been horny all day. Or maybe it's just nerves.
"Ain't you a charmer," I say.
"You're filthy gorgeous and you know it." He takes the bottle out of my hand, pecks my cheek, and walks away. "I'll get you another one, see? Charms right there."
So I sit down again.
When Joe joins me with his puppy dog eyes, he puts a beer in my hand. "Relax, Billiam, you pain in the ass," he says and puts his icy hand under my shirt. I slap him away and he growls, "Stop thinking, already. Makes me wanna puke."
I shoot him a smile. Partly because I like how he looks at me and partly because I can't have him freak. I turn my head away and light another cigarette, hold it close to my mouth. "Yeah, OK. Just don't fuck it up tonight."
"Fucking up is part of it. Cunt."
"Jerk," I pat his neck and wink at him before I get up. I need to be close to the stage, get into the groove. Joe starts to protest but I ignore him.
"Wait up." He flings his arm around me, puts his palm on my chest, and flips me towards the wall. "You hear them? They're screaming for us." He closes his eyes, swings his head, and comes close. "You missed this, I know you did. Admit it."
He touches my waist and puts his forehead on mine. "You're it, baby-face. You and me."
I hold him by his hips, too, make it nice for him. It also helps to keep some distance, prevents him from humping me. I can't have that now. Bruce's aiming at us with his camera, steady on us. Given that Pipe's flashing his nipples right now, yelling that they're the best color ever, I find that a little weird. Bruce probably smells a close up of some boners. I flip him off, as playful as I can. I get that he needs the juicy stuff but I don't give free shows.
"Come on, Dick, the crowd's past ready," I snap at Joe.
Pipe and Oxenberger rush ahead but Joe's falling behind. He loves the big entrance.
I'm antsy before I walk on stage, jumping up and down and trying to focus. The second I'm out, I act bored. You can't come across too eager. I half-hug the guys on my way to my spot and turn my back to the crowd. They get to see some skin when I adjust my guitar belt. I make sure of that.
I fiddle with the cords and I hear them behind me. When I turn around I take my first good look. They get off on eye-contact, makes them feel special. So I let my gaze run over them on eye level, with a head faintly dropped and the broadest of smiles.
It's hard to ignore him. He changed his suit, this one's grey. It's dark enough to look stylish but not dark enough to hide any stains, which is pretty optimistic to say the least. His tie has a dark pinkish color, on the edge of red but still clearly pink. It brings out his eyes and they draw me in. He's in the fucking front row, directly before me.
No one's remotely like him and he doesn't seem to care. He stands there on his own, staring. Everyone around him is screaming, spitting, and head-banging, but somehow they stay away. It's like there's a bubble surrounding him.
Joe slaps the back of my head and plants a wet kiss on my cheek. I shove him away and wipe my face with my shirt. That drooling fucker. He points at Darryl and growls, "Who's that asswipe? Let me know if he gives you shit."
Joe pulls me into a hug. Presses up against my guitar, grabs my ass, and turns us around to make everyone notice. When he sticks out his tongue and wriggles it, I laugh him off and slap his cheek. Not too gently. He heads to his mic and I spit on the floor. He waits for all of our nods and counts down. When he screams his first line, I zone out.
*~*~*
Darryl rolls his wine in his glass and I have a beer in front of me. "Good show, I liked it. A little stuck in the eighties, maybe."
I roll my eyes. "Your flattery needs some serious work."
"Did I mess with my chances to get laid?" he asks with a wicked smile. "Oh, wait, I forgot, you're not that picky, are you?"
"Keep that up and you'll find out yourself."
"Aw, don't be like that." He tilts his head and squints at me. "It went OK. I could do without the spitting, though. I'd want a better voice to go with that, call me old-fashioned. But you? You won them over like magic." He puts his hand on mine and strokes over the back of my fingers. "You shouldn't surround yourself with mediocrity."
"Shut up."
"Do you fuck that guy?" he asks, watching his fingers on mine.
"What is it to you, van Horne?" I'm pissed but I'm smiling. I sometimes get that confused.
"Do you?"
"None of your business."
"That sounds awfully like a yes," he says dryly. "In any case, you should cut him loose. He's holding you back."
I give him a challenging look. "Is there a huge tattoo on my forehead, saying manwhore?"
"There isn't. There's a small tattoo on your arm, though, saying champion. Which is accurate. We're a good match that way." His fingertips brush over the table and work their way under my hand. I think about pulling it back but just stupidly stare down until I hear the entrance door bang against the wall.
Joe scans the room and sees us at once. He rears up and storms toward us, that is to say toward Darryl. I step in his way just in time and place my palm on his chest. "Hold it, Joe. Nothing here to see."
He's tense and buzzed. I remember this tension but it's been a while. He tries to reach around me to get hold of Darryl's shirt. "Who you think you are, you pisshead?"
Darryl's not moving an inch, he's only looking at me. "The boyfriend, I assume?"
"I'm motherfucking talking to you." Joe leans forward with full force and I can barely hold my ground.
"Too bad I'm not interested, Mr. Dick."
"I'm not kidding, cuntface. Piss off and leave him alone." Joe grabs one corner of his coat and shifts it back. The handle of a glock is sticking out of his waistband. "Fair warning."
That stupid fuck, I'm gonna kill him.
Darryl raises an eyebrow and purses his lips. "You should be careful with that, I hear they're dangerous. Fair warning."
Joe needs to go and there's only one way. As I drag him with me, I turn back to Darryl and mouth an apology. He smiles and it feels like he's laughing at me.
When we're on the sidewalk, Joe gives me a shy grin. I want to take a swing at him but the cool air helps me calm down. "Damn it, Joe, it was business."
"Sure." He snorts.
"Don't give me that. What's with the gun? Are you out of your fucking mind? He could have you arrested for that crap."
His arms fling around me, another rough hug, and pleads with me. "Come on, please. Let's get a drink. I'll score you a girl. You'll go first."
I have no intention to let this go and push him away hard. "The gun?"
"Relax Billy, it's fake."
I frown at him for what feels like forever. "Not funny," I say.
He strokes my arm, pulls and grins until I cave. We walk in silence for a while, then he puts his hand in my nape and his head against mine. Truth is, I could use a drink, something strong.
*~*~*
It's 3 am and I'm at Darryl's suite again. It hasn't been tough to shake Joe. Him passing out was just a matter of time. I'm tired but not sleepy.
Darryl opens the door. He wears nothing but his suit pants and a robe. His feet and chest are bare.
"What's with the pimp outfit? You're expecting me?"
Darryl rubs the corner of his mouth and licks his thumb suggestively. "I had a feeling." He leans over to me and breathes deep. "You smell sinful."
"Perv." I chuckle.
"Do you want to talk concerts?" He gestures to the table. "Or can I take you to the bedroom?"
I kiss him, try out how it feels. His lips are soft and warm on mine, it's nice but not enough. I lean against the door, pull him close, and up the speed.
It's not that he's stopping me, he moans at what I do, but he'a acting differently.
He buries his fingers in my hair as he kisses me and his thumbs stroke my cheekbones as his tongue traces the insides of my lips. He plants a trail of kisses over my face and neck and when he reaches a spot behind my ear, I take my hands off his dick and hold his head close.
I can't stop wondering, though. "Why?" I ask.
"You're amazing," he mumbles in my skin.
"Why all this effort? What is it you want?" I pull his head back and see him dazed.
"You want to know in detail?" he whispers. "I want so many things. I want to make you squirm. I want to know what you taste like, everywhere. I want to have you come at my first thrust." He beams at me. "Objections? You want me to be the fuckee, maybe? Not a problem." He opens two buttons of my shirt and sucks his way down to my collarbone.
I make him look in my eyes again. "Last chance or I'm out of here. Why me?"
He blinks and looks confused. "Because. You're it, Billy. Everyone knows but you. I don't let potential go to waste."
That doesn't make a lot of sense but I let him fuck me. He's a good lay; I've had far worse.
He asks me to stay and I might.
~~ the end ~~
Author: mamaffy
Recipient: malnpudl - I hope you like it.
Fandom: Hard Core Logo / Eastwick
Pairing: Billy/Darryl
Word Count: ~2900
Rating: R
Thanks: Many thanks and lots of love for my betas. mizface for her lightning fast and encouraging comments and awesome suggestions and endcredits who is just too nice and challenged me in all the right ways. I am lucky for their support and it's totally my fault that they haven't seen the latest version - I ran out of time. ETA: Also to dvldb for her great thoughts on Billy and idreamedmusic and surya74 for their time and cheer.
Summary: Set early in the movie. It starts with Billy, taking a little detour before he meets up with Joe and the guys.
The call came out of the blue. I was just bitching about the legwork to land decent gigs when my phone rang. The girl said 10 am but now, the dude's making me wait.
It's fancy in here. An office in an hotel suite, all glass, leather, and shades of grey. There are red tulips by the window, probably fake, too perfect to be real. Different kinds of drinks are on the table in front of me. Tiny bottles for people who can't be thirsty. Even tinier glasses and little bottle-openers.
There are also cherries and I try one as I slouch back. For fruit they aren't bad. I grab the bowl and put it beside me. Joe'd wanna spit pits. I'd kick his ass. But I reach for a napkin and put that next to me, too.
I bump my head back, close my eyes, and work on a song. I clap the intro on my thigh and move my fingers over the seam of my jeans. Mental practice's handy when there's no guitar. Also your fingers don't bleed, which is a plus.
The door opens and he walks in, no knocking. It's him, his photo is everywhere. Dark hair and blue eyes, I'd say contact lenses. His suit is slim-cut, bordering on too small, and his grin is either friendly or creepy. Maybe a bit of both. Too much swing in his step for my liking.
"Billy Tallent," he says like he enjoys saying my name.
"In the flesh." I lean forward to take his hand, even lift my butt slightly. It's what you do.
"Very nice to meet you. My name is Darryl van Horne. I'm glad you made it."
I give him a quick nod. "My pleasure. Nice happenstance that I'm in Calgary anyway. I have this gig tonight, it's kind of a small charity thing with my former band."
"Isn't that good luck?" he smirks. "I like the sound of former."
I smirk right back because what's there to say? He takes off his jacket, folds it over a chair and focuses on me again. I watch him loosen his tie and open his cuffs and I think he wants me to. It's not a front to check me out, that's something he doesn't try to hide. He's one vain guy. And I've seen vanity.
"You put the talent right in your name," he says, taking up a lot of room with his gestures. "I like that. Few things bore me like modesty."
I wait for him to sit down but he doesn't. "Thanks, I guess."
"Not that you use your talent wisely," he adds and wrinkles his nose. "You play in small ponds. Why is that? Lack of balls?"
I snort and scratch my jaw. "My balls are just fine, Mr. van Horne."
"Mmm." He raises his eyebrows and shoots me a dirty smile. "Now that's promising. Let's put them to good use then. It's my area of expertise."
I chuckle and put my elbows on the back of the couch. "Lucky me. So let's hear your offer. You should know, though, that I have other opportunities."
"You mean Jenifur? First, you need to think bigger and second, it won't work out."
"What?" I snarl. "I'm not here to discuss this with you."
"High maintenance, are you? A good quality in a star." The tip of his tongue slips out briefly. "Me, I am here to discuss this with you. I'm all about supporting the arts."
I lean forward and give him a stern look. "And that means what exactly?"
"You settle for the background. I don't get that. You should be number one and nothing less."
He's starting to piss me off. "And you'd make that happen? I don't bye it, I've been doing this for a while."
"Pushy, too? Oh, marry me." He makes an appreciative noise, then grows more serious. "Fear is a useless emotion. You've got the skills and you got the looks. Actually, you're more than easy on the eyes. In a raggedy way. Not my usual, but very sexy."
I let that sink in. "Is that a come-on? Are you offering help in exchange for a fuck?"
He acts like I said something funny. "No, my advice is yours if you want it. But I do have some talents of my own and I'd use them on you. For free."
I look at him bemused, our eyes are locked. He thinks he's god's gift and ya, he's not ugly.
I sit there for a while and wonder whether he'd back down, given time. Darryl's a weird name. It fits and that's no compliment. I don't trust him. He knows how to make a buck, though, and I want in on that.
I get up and his grin is fading. He watches me with curiosity as I close the space between us. "Fine, then." I pull my shirt over my head, rumple it into a ball, and throw it behind me. "Here's the deal. Condoms and lube are obligatory and no funny business. You're free to ask but, word of advice, if you think you gotta ask, I'm probably not up for it."
I go for my belt and make it slow. "And another thing: You spill any of this - I'll talk trash about you. Might not ruin you but I'll make it hurt. Let's keep it friendly." I give him my best boyish smile and my eyes are on his open mouth. "You wanna kiss? I'm all for that."
The first two buttons of my jeans are undone but the third one's a bitch. I look down to see what's what and that's when I feel his hands on mine.
"Very tempting." His breath brushes my ear and that's no help with the button. "We'll get to that. And there'll be kissing." He turns away from me and walks to his desk. "Let's talk details, first. See what fits in our schedules."
I snicker into my palm, had a feeling he's all talk. While he's playing busy with his papers, I re-do my jeans as loud as I can, plop back on the sofa, and ask, "Can I smoke in here?"
*~*~*
Long story short, he wants to see me in action. He'll be at the show tonight and, fuck me, he'll be so out of place. I almost feel sorry for him. Not really, though. He won't listen, he deserves what he gets.
It's the first show of the tour and I wanna nail it. Joe whines that I'm killing the mood. He wants to celebrate, so I take a bottle. I even laugh in all the right places when the old jokes rise up. Now and then I get up and move through the room. Just to loosen my hips and feel the music. Also to swap a full bottle with an emptier one that's standing around. I'm on my way back to the couch when Joe comes up behind me. Tells me I'm a skinny loser and my dancing sucks. His palms are on my thighs and his head's next to mine. I lean into him, I've been horny all day. Or maybe it's just nerves.
"Ain't you a charmer," I say.
"You're filthy gorgeous and you know it." He takes the bottle out of my hand, pecks my cheek, and walks away. "I'll get you another one, see? Charms right there."
So I sit down again.
When Joe joins me with his puppy dog eyes, he puts a beer in my hand. "Relax, Billiam, you pain in the ass," he says and puts his icy hand under my shirt. I slap him away and he growls, "Stop thinking, already. Makes me wanna puke."
I shoot him a smile. Partly because I like how he looks at me and partly because I can't have him freak. I turn my head away and light another cigarette, hold it close to my mouth. "Yeah, OK. Just don't fuck it up tonight."
"Fucking up is part of it. Cunt."
"Jerk," I pat his neck and wink at him before I get up. I need to be close to the stage, get into the groove. Joe starts to protest but I ignore him.
"Wait up." He flings his arm around me, puts his palm on my chest, and flips me towards the wall. "You hear them? They're screaming for us." He closes his eyes, swings his head, and comes close. "You missed this, I know you did. Admit it."
He touches my waist and puts his forehead on mine. "You're it, baby-face. You and me."
I hold him by his hips, too, make it nice for him. It also helps to keep some distance, prevents him from humping me. I can't have that now. Bruce's aiming at us with his camera, steady on us. Given that Pipe's flashing his nipples right now, yelling that they're the best color ever, I find that a little weird. Bruce probably smells a close up of some boners. I flip him off, as playful as I can. I get that he needs the juicy stuff but I don't give free shows.
"Come on, Dick, the crowd's past ready," I snap at Joe.
Pipe and Oxenberger rush ahead but Joe's falling behind. He loves the big entrance.
I'm antsy before I walk on stage, jumping up and down and trying to focus. The second I'm out, I act bored. You can't come across too eager. I half-hug the guys on my way to my spot and turn my back to the crowd. They get to see some skin when I adjust my guitar belt. I make sure of that.
I fiddle with the cords and I hear them behind me. When I turn around I take my first good look. They get off on eye-contact, makes them feel special. So I let my gaze run over them on eye level, with a head faintly dropped and the broadest of smiles.
It's hard to ignore him. He changed his suit, this one's grey. It's dark enough to look stylish but not dark enough to hide any stains, which is pretty optimistic to say the least. His tie has a dark pinkish color, on the edge of red but still clearly pink. It brings out his eyes and they draw me in. He's in the fucking front row, directly before me.
No one's remotely like him and he doesn't seem to care. He stands there on his own, staring. Everyone around him is screaming, spitting, and head-banging, but somehow they stay away. It's like there's a bubble surrounding him.
Joe slaps the back of my head and plants a wet kiss on my cheek. I shove him away and wipe my face with my shirt. That drooling fucker. He points at Darryl and growls, "Who's that asswipe? Let me know if he gives you shit."
Joe pulls me into a hug. Presses up against my guitar, grabs my ass, and turns us around to make everyone notice. When he sticks out his tongue and wriggles it, I laugh him off and slap his cheek. Not too gently. He heads to his mic and I spit on the floor. He waits for all of our nods and counts down. When he screams his first line, I zone out.
*~*~*
Darryl rolls his wine in his glass and I have a beer in front of me. "Good show, I liked it. A little stuck in the eighties, maybe."
I roll my eyes. "Your flattery needs some serious work."
"Did I mess with my chances to get laid?" he asks with a wicked smile. "Oh, wait, I forgot, you're not that picky, are you?"
"Keep that up and you'll find out yourself."
"Aw, don't be like that." He tilts his head and squints at me. "It went OK. I could do without the spitting, though. I'd want a better voice to go with that, call me old-fashioned. But you? You won them over like magic." He puts his hand on mine and strokes over the back of my fingers. "You shouldn't surround yourself with mediocrity."
"Shut up."
"Do you fuck that guy?" he asks, watching his fingers on mine.
"What is it to you, van Horne?" I'm pissed but I'm smiling. I sometimes get that confused.
"Do you?"
"None of your business."
"That sounds awfully like a yes," he says dryly. "In any case, you should cut him loose. He's holding you back."
I give him a challenging look. "Is there a huge tattoo on my forehead, saying manwhore?"
"There isn't. There's a small tattoo on your arm, though, saying champion. Which is accurate. We're a good match that way." His fingertips brush over the table and work their way under my hand. I think about pulling it back but just stupidly stare down until I hear the entrance door bang against the wall.
Joe scans the room and sees us at once. He rears up and storms toward us, that is to say toward Darryl. I step in his way just in time and place my palm on his chest. "Hold it, Joe. Nothing here to see."
He's tense and buzzed. I remember this tension but it's been a while. He tries to reach around me to get hold of Darryl's shirt. "Who you think you are, you pisshead?"
Darryl's not moving an inch, he's only looking at me. "The boyfriend, I assume?"
"I'm motherfucking talking to you." Joe leans forward with full force and I can barely hold my ground.
"Too bad I'm not interested, Mr. Dick."
"I'm not kidding, cuntface. Piss off and leave him alone." Joe grabs one corner of his coat and shifts it back. The handle of a glock is sticking out of his waistband. "Fair warning."
That stupid fuck, I'm gonna kill him.
Darryl raises an eyebrow and purses his lips. "You should be careful with that, I hear they're dangerous. Fair warning."
Joe needs to go and there's only one way. As I drag him with me, I turn back to Darryl and mouth an apology. He smiles and it feels like he's laughing at me.
When we're on the sidewalk, Joe gives me a shy grin. I want to take a swing at him but the cool air helps me calm down. "Damn it, Joe, it was business."
"Sure." He snorts.
"Don't give me that. What's with the gun? Are you out of your fucking mind? He could have you arrested for that crap."
His arms fling around me, another rough hug, and pleads with me. "Come on, please. Let's get a drink. I'll score you a girl. You'll go first."
I have no intention to let this go and push him away hard. "The gun?"
"Relax Billy, it's fake."
I frown at him for what feels like forever. "Not funny," I say.
He strokes my arm, pulls and grins until I cave. We walk in silence for a while, then he puts his hand in my nape and his head against mine. Truth is, I could use a drink, something strong.
*~*~*
It's 3 am and I'm at Darryl's suite again. It hasn't been tough to shake Joe. Him passing out was just a matter of time. I'm tired but not sleepy.
Darryl opens the door. He wears nothing but his suit pants and a robe. His feet and chest are bare.
"What's with the pimp outfit? You're expecting me?"
Darryl rubs the corner of his mouth and licks his thumb suggestively. "I had a feeling." He leans over to me and breathes deep. "You smell sinful."
"Perv." I chuckle.
"Do you want to talk concerts?" He gestures to the table. "Or can I take you to the bedroom?"
I kiss him, try out how it feels. His lips are soft and warm on mine, it's nice but not enough. I lean against the door, pull him close, and up the speed.
It's not that he's stopping me, he moans at what I do, but he'a acting differently.
He buries his fingers in my hair as he kisses me and his thumbs stroke my cheekbones as his tongue traces the insides of my lips. He plants a trail of kisses over my face and neck and when he reaches a spot behind my ear, I take my hands off his dick and hold his head close.
I can't stop wondering, though. "Why?" I ask.
"You're amazing," he mumbles in my skin.
"Why all this effort? What is it you want?" I pull his head back and see him dazed.
"You want to know in detail?" he whispers. "I want so many things. I want to make you squirm. I want to know what you taste like, everywhere. I want to have you come at my first thrust." He beams at me. "Objections? You want me to be the fuckee, maybe? Not a problem." He opens two buttons of my shirt and sucks his way down to my collarbone.
I make him look in my eyes again. "Last chance or I'm out of here. Why me?"
He blinks and looks confused. "Because. You're it, Billy. Everyone knows but you. I don't let potential go to waste."
That doesn't make a lot of sense but I let him fuck me. He's a good lay; I've had far worse.
He asks me to stay and I might.
~~ the end ~~