twenty-five
“I think you said you wanted me to fuck you again.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Sure. I’d like you on your back, legs in the air, so you can watch me.”
They have to finish lunch, and clean up, and digest for a little, but eventually that’s exactly what Owain gets - Justin on his back, naked and ready, his legs in the air, his arms open, his cock hard. The lights are off and the curtains are open because the sun is out and the sky is clear and there’s more than enough light in the room for them to see each other. Owain knows how much Justin likes to watch him come.
It feels good, because it always feels good, and Justin is vocal and responsive, because he always is, even when he’s on top, and Owain enjoys it, because he always does. He was right that he’s not really into the kinky shit, and he and Justin haven’t been together long enough for their sex to become rote and boring, but all the same, Owain wouldn’t mind something a little different next time. Maybe he’ll suggest they fuck in the tub. A change of venue might be fun.
“Next time,” he says, his hips pumping in and out, “we should fuck in the bathtub. Somewhere different.”
“Sounds good,” Justin tells him. “You’ll sit on me. I’ll get some bubble bath.” He grins. “Fucking in a sea of suds.”
“Fun, right?”
“You’re always fun.”
Owain can’t really argue with that. He likes to think he’s fun. Justin laughs at his jokes - or maybe Justin is just laughing at him - it’s a good indication Justin thinks he’s fun, without having to say so explicitly. Milena and Teddy think he’s fun, although their idea of what that entails is very different from Justin’s, and Wheeze probably thinks he’s kind of boring, because he won’t feed her from the table.
“Yeah,” Justin murmurs, “it’s always fun to make you come.” He leans up and Owain leans down and they kiss for a bit, open-mouthed and sloppy and unfocused. Owain is concentrating on his rhythm and Justin is apparently concentrating on him.
They move together, panting and moaning and making the bed creak. (Another reason to do it in the tub - much less noise from the furnishings.) The light is bright and diffuse, no doubt indirect at this time of the afternoon, and Justin’s skin is almost golden in the sun. Even the flush from his arousal looks burnished. And even though Owain isn’t necessarily sexually attracted to him, it’s always a bonus to fuck someone good-looking.
It lasts just long enough. Justin comes first, his own hand on his cock, but Owain is close behind. They just lie there for a few minutes, kissing lazily, Justin no doubt enjoying Owain’s full weight on top of him and Owain enjoying the fact that he hasn’t thought about his ex at all today. Justin’s ass is pretty distracting, and he knows Justin would say the same about his cock.
“You want a quick shower?” Justin asks eventually. “Before you go to work. So you don’t stink up the projector booth with the scent of sex. Wait. How big is it? Can we fuck in there? After hours, I mean. I don’t want to get you fired.”
“I don’t know if having sex in the projectionist’s booth is enough to get me fired,” Owain muses. “I don’t want to find out, though. I don’t think the owners would go for it, and besides, it’s pretty cramped.”
And the Oriental counts as a public place to him, and he very much does not want to have sex in public.
“Pfft. We can make it work.” Fortunately, Owain can tell that Justin is teasing him, so he can drop it.
“I’d rather do it in your bathtub. More privacy, less chance of interruptions.”
“People walk in on you in the booth? During the movie?”
“Not usually, but sometimes it happens. Yves, the other projectionist, mixed up the shifts once and tried to get into the booth in the middle of a movie. I’d started locking the door, so he had to bang on it, and by the time I got it open he was so mad at me for locking him out. I told him he had the wrong shift. Then he was mad at himself, but he did apologize.”
“We’ll do it in the living room sometime and watch a movie while we’re fucking.”
“What’s the song - ‘And then we’ll do it doggie style so we can both watch X-Files’.”
Justin laughs. “Yes! That! When you have a day shift, so we have enough time to actually watch the movie.”
Based on recent performance, Owain somehow doubts that Justin will be content to watch a movie when they could be boinking on the living room rug.
“That’s assuming I can keep my hands off you for an entire movie,” Justin goes on, and this time Owain laughs, because of course he was right. Justin is very transparent about some things, chief among them how much (and how often) he wants to have sex with Owain.
“I’m fine,” Owain says, going back to the original question. “I don’t need a shower.” He drops a quick kiss on Justin’s lips and pulls out. He’ll pee, get dressed, go on to the theater. Tomorrow is the last late night baseball movie - this year the last one is Bull Durham because Jerry was having a hard time getting a print, so he scheduled it at the end just in case he ultimately couldn’t get it - although Owain always thought a series should end Thursday, so the next one could start on Friday. At the Oriental, the series go on for as long as Jerry and Jo want them to, and they usually start Sunday or Monday, to line up with the start of the week.
Owain pulls on his clothes, wiggling his butt because he knows Justin is watching, and goes back into the other room. Justin follows, half dressed, and they share another kiss in front of the door.
“Someday you’ll get Friday nights off and can go to karaoke with me,” Justin says.
“I like working Friday nights,” Owain tells him. “I’m a night bird.” Elwyn’s last girlfriend before he met Annie told Owain that all owls were night owls, so “night owl” was redundant, so he started calling himself a night bird instead.
“Yeah yeah.” Another quick kiss. “Go do your thing. We’ll talk later.”
Everything looks normal at the Oriental - Marcel is doing concessions, Carolle is in the ticket booth, the new kid is taking tickets, Jo is taking notes from Marcel on what they should and shouldn’t order, the next time they stock the concessions.
“No one eats the Raisinets but you,” she says. “We all know this.”
“Sometimes people order them,” he insists. “I know what we do and don’t need.” Jo makes a noise that Owain interprets as slight disagreement, but then they both see him and wave.
He goes up to the office to leave his stuff, studiously ignores the calendar on the wall with the notation for the ex’s documentary, and heads down to the projectionist’s booth to get ready. He’s set up for the ads and trailers and feature film so many times he can do it without thinking, but he trains his focus on it anyway, to guarantee as much as he can that there are no fuckups during the show. He’s good at his job, but sometimes things happen. He doesn’t want them happening on his shift, as much as that’s possible.
He wonders what process Yves has, how he gets everything ready - not that there’s a lot of variation, because film projectors pretty much all work the same, and digital projectors mostly just involve pushing a button - if he has any rituals before or during a showing. Yves likes to come in, do his job, and go home. He doesn’t hang out and socialize like Owain does, and consequently no one at the Oriental feels like they know him much at all. Jerry and Jo, maybe, but they’re his bosses and are hopefully more invested in getting to know him than his coworkers might be.
Owain likes Yves, for the little they know each other, even though Yves can be a little stiff and sometimes a little distant. Not unfriendly, just not... friendly.
Owain runs the ads and trailers, cues up the romcom, and gets it started. The audience is about the size that Friday afternoon audiences usually are - enough to make an afternoon showing viable, but not a big crowd. The next second-run film in this screen is a dumb comedy, which Owain saw when it came out and which had a couple of scenes that made him laugh so hard he almost peed himself. He’s looking forward to showing that one.
He takes a break during the second showing. Carolle asks him how he feels about his ex’s documentary premiering that night, and why didn’t he ask for the night off to see it (“You could heckle,” suggests the kid taking tickets, because apparently Carolle and/or Marcel and/or Jo filled him in on Owain’s former love life), and what if the documentary is actually good?
“If it’s good he’ll be insufferable,” Owain says, “and if it sucks he’ll be depressed, and then decide the critics just don’t appreciate what he was trying to do, and it’s not his fault that they’re stupid.”
words: 1556
total words: 43,478
“Is that what you want?”
“Sure. I’d like you on your back, legs in the air, so you can watch me.”
They have to finish lunch, and clean up, and digest for a little, but eventually that’s exactly what Owain gets - Justin on his back, naked and ready, his legs in the air, his arms open, his cock hard. The lights are off and the curtains are open because the sun is out and the sky is clear and there’s more than enough light in the room for them to see each other. Owain knows how much Justin likes to watch him come.
It feels good, because it always feels good, and Justin is vocal and responsive, because he always is, even when he’s on top, and Owain enjoys it, because he always does. He was right that he’s not really into the kinky shit, and he and Justin haven’t been together long enough for their sex to become rote and boring, but all the same, Owain wouldn’t mind something a little different next time. Maybe he’ll suggest they fuck in the tub. A change of venue might be fun.
“Next time,” he says, his hips pumping in and out, “we should fuck in the bathtub. Somewhere different.”
“Sounds good,” Justin tells him. “You’ll sit on me. I’ll get some bubble bath.” He grins. “Fucking in a sea of suds.”
“Fun, right?”
“You’re always fun.”
Owain can’t really argue with that. He likes to think he’s fun. Justin laughs at his jokes - or maybe Justin is just laughing at him - it’s a good indication Justin thinks he’s fun, without having to say so explicitly. Milena and Teddy think he’s fun, although their idea of what that entails is very different from Justin’s, and Wheeze probably thinks he’s kind of boring, because he won’t feed her from the table.
“Yeah,” Justin murmurs, “it’s always fun to make you come.” He leans up and Owain leans down and they kiss for a bit, open-mouthed and sloppy and unfocused. Owain is concentrating on his rhythm and Justin is apparently concentrating on him.
They move together, panting and moaning and making the bed creak. (Another reason to do it in the tub - much less noise from the furnishings.) The light is bright and diffuse, no doubt indirect at this time of the afternoon, and Justin’s skin is almost golden in the sun. Even the flush from his arousal looks burnished. And even though Owain isn’t necessarily sexually attracted to him, it’s always a bonus to fuck someone good-looking.
It lasts just long enough. Justin comes first, his own hand on his cock, but Owain is close behind. They just lie there for a few minutes, kissing lazily, Justin no doubt enjoying Owain’s full weight on top of him and Owain enjoying the fact that he hasn’t thought about his ex at all today. Justin’s ass is pretty distracting, and he knows Justin would say the same about his cock.
“You want a quick shower?” Justin asks eventually. “Before you go to work. So you don’t stink up the projector booth with the scent of sex. Wait. How big is it? Can we fuck in there? After hours, I mean. I don’t want to get you fired.”
“I don’t know if having sex in the projectionist’s booth is enough to get me fired,” Owain muses. “I don’t want to find out, though. I don’t think the owners would go for it, and besides, it’s pretty cramped.”
And the Oriental counts as a public place to him, and he very much does not want to have sex in public.
“Pfft. We can make it work.” Fortunately, Owain can tell that Justin is teasing him, so he can drop it.
“I’d rather do it in your bathtub. More privacy, less chance of interruptions.”
“People walk in on you in the booth? During the movie?”
“Not usually, but sometimes it happens. Yves, the other projectionist, mixed up the shifts once and tried to get into the booth in the middle of a movie. I’d started locking the door, so he had to bang on it, and by the time I got it open he was so mad at me for locking him out. I told him he had the wrong shift. Then he was mad at himself, but he did apologize.”
“We’ll do it in the living room sometime and watch a movie while we’re fucking.”
“What’s the song - ‘And then we’ll do it doggie style so we can both watch X-Files’.”
Justin laughs. “Yes! That! When you have a day shift, so we have enough time to actually watch the movie.”
Based on recent performance, Owain somehow doubts that Justin will be content to watch a movie when they could be boinking on the living room rug.
“That’s assuming I can keep my hands off you for an entire movie,” Justin goes on, and this time Owain laughs, because of course he was right. Justin is very transparent about some things, chief among them how much (and how often) he wants to have sex with Owain.
“I’m fine,” Owain says, going back to the original question. “I don’t need a shower.” He drops a quick kiss on Justin’s lips and pulls out. He’ll pee, get dressed, go on to the theater. Tomorrow is the last late night baseball movie - this year the last one is Bull Durham because Jerry was having a hard time getting a print, so he scheduled it at the end just in case he ultimately couldn’t get it - although Owain always thought a series should end Thursday, so the next one could start on Friday. At the Oriental, the series go on for as long as Jerry and Jo want them to, and they usually start Sunday or Monday, to line up with the start of the week.
Owain pulls on his clothes, wiggling his butt because he knows Justin is watching, and goes back into the other room. Justin follows, half dressed, and they share another kiss in front of the door.
“Someday you’ll get Friday nights off and can go to karaoke with me,” Justin says.
“I like working Friday nights,” Owain tells him. “I’m a night bird.” Elwyn’s last girlfriend before he met Annie told Owain that all owls were night owls, so “night owl” was redundant, so he started calling himself a night bird instead.
“Yeah yeah.” Another quick kiss. “Go do your thing. We’ll talk later.”
Everything looks normal at the Oriental - Marcel is doing concessions, Carolle is in the ticket booth, the new kid is taking tickets, Jo is taking notes from Marcel on what they should and shouldn’t order, the next time they stock the concessions.
“No one eats the Raisinets but you,” she says. “We all know this.”
“Sometimes people order them,” he insists. “I know what we do and don’t need.” Jo makes a noise that Owain interprets as slight disagreement, but then they both see him and wave.
He goes up to the office to leave his stuff, studiously ignores the calendar on the wall with the notation for the ex’s documentary, and heads down to the projectionist’s booth to get ready. He’s set up for the ads and trailers and feature film so many times he can do it without thinking, but he trains his focus on it anyway, to guarantee as much as he can that there are no fuckups during the show. He’s good at his job, but sometimes things happen. He doesn’t want them happening on his shift, as much as that’s possible.
He wonders what process Yves has, how he gets everything ready - not that there’s a lot of variation, because film projectors pretty much all work the same, and digital projectors mostly just involve pushing a button - if he has any rituals before or during a showing. Yves likes to come in, do his job, and go home. He doesn’t hang out and socialize like Owain does, and consequently no one at the Oriental feels like they know him much at all. Jerry and Jo, maybe, but they’re his bosses and are hopefully more invested in getting to know him than his coworkers might be.
Owain likes Yves, for the little they know each other, even though Yves can be a little stiff and sometimes a little distant. Not unfriendly, just not... friendly.
Owain runs the ads and trailers, cues up the romcom, and gets it started. The audience is about the size that Friday afternoon audiences usually are - enough to make an afternoon showing viable, but not a big crowd. The next second-run film in this screen is a dumb comedy, which Owain saw when it came out and which had a couple of scenes that made him laugh so hard he almost peed himself. He’s looking forward to showing that one.
He takes a break during the second showing. Carolle asks him how he feels about his ex’s documentary premiering that night, and why didn’t he ask for the night off to see it (“You could heckle,” suggests the kid taking tickets, because apparently Carolle and/or Marcel and/or Jo filled him in on Owain’s former love life), and what if the documentary is actually good?
“If it’s good he’ll be insufferable,” Owain says, “and if it sucks he’ll be depressed, and then decide the critics just don’t appreciate what he was trying to do, and it’s not his fault that they’re stupid.”
words: 1556
total words: 43,478