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The pub shone with dark, purple, tinted lights. The music was blasting from the corners and partners danced around laughing and drinking. So many scents in one place, they all transformed into a nothingness of perfumes.
“How’s the wife?”
They had chosen the place in the beginning for its distance. Away from their homes, their works, their lives. Neither of them knew when this had become their home and the rest, their hideouts. But they didn't talk about it. They didn't talk about anything. One of the two, he couldn’t remember which one, had drawn the line once at the start of all. What to talk and what not to touch. And they had both followed it with an undying faith and loyalty. Just as much as they followed each other around the place.
They went to their usual place and sat, ignoring the music. Ignoring the lights and the wholeness of the experience. People were dancing around them, celebrating for the glorious weekend yet to come. He’d be away for two weeks. And with no phones involved, this was a short and dry goodbye for them.
“What did you say?”
He had heard him. He knew the other knew this too. But pretensions were so much easier to play in the middle of the night. At the end of everything, the games and subterfuges were all they had.
“Nothing”.
He hated when one of them tried to make some small talk. It had never been their forte. The first time they talked one called the other a ‘pretentious, self-entitled wanker’. The other then proceeded to throw the 'name-caller' away from his premises. Making small talk would have implied this was normal, this was okay. Nothing wrong here, just a couple of friends catching up.
They were not friends.
Yet they saw each other once a week in the same place, with biblical penitence.
“God, I’m tired” the other said stretching his arms’ muscles above his head. If he’d been standing, he would have caught a small glimpse of the other’s white skin near his waistband; instead, he imagined it. He knew that body too well by now. It was his to know.
“Too many roses to carry around?”
“Piss off” he answered smiling. Disarming as the first time, just as he remembered it. “You can’t say anything about it, all you do is call fancy people all day long and take their money”
He gulped down a sip of his beer. Cold, brown, bitter. He liked it that way, his mouth never tasted well afterwards. Penitence for his actions. “It’s called having a real job”
“Shut up”
“Guess if you’re too tired, I should leave now”. He had never been a tease before. It was one of the many things he had discovered around him with time. Like some hidden potential about himself that had been under the layers of his own self all along. All the things he could do with people, and he only had one person to show it. For the rest he wasn't a tease, he made appointments and followed them through with precision. There was no schedule with him here, besides the obvious and inevitable one. As if when he was with him, the perfectly created clock he called 'life' stopped working.
It was exhilarating.
The other raised an eyebrow in his general direction. A leg slipped by beneath the table all the way to his knee. It always started that way. Shy and tender, yet mischievous and tantalizing at the same time. A game of two set in motion with one swift movement of the other’s brow. Ready, player two? It was asking him. Ready, he thought.
They finished their beers without stopping to talk further. The faster it went to their brains, the easier the rest would come. And they could have more fun throughout the night because of it. That was what they told themselves at the end: just a fumbling drunken play, nothing serious. Because it meant nothing, because it was the alcohol from start to finish. It did not matter if they actually planned their outings, if they actually timed everything they did. It would still be the beer’s fault. Their minds were not in it. How could they? They hated each other.
You didn't fuck someone you hated.
They did the rest by the rules. You did not talk to someone you hated. You did not acknowledge someone you hated. You did nothing regarding said person. By the standards of every social convention imaginable, one did not come to exist in the other’s life. They only came to be something else, something tangible, when they were here. And even then it was a brief, unconscious moment of their normal existences.
He noticed the other was on the verge of walking with a limp while he followed him to the back. Biting his tongue, he stayed quiet. There was nothing he could say even though his curiosity was peaking inside of him. What had happened? Work accident? It could not be, the man worked in the mellowest, softest environment known to man. Before his mind could spiral into some twisted and deranged fantasies -a mugging gone too wrong, someone else being rough on him at night-, he decided to attribute it to a fall. The man tripped everywhere he went, it had to be that.
“I like how you silently stare at my arse” he whispered ahead of him. Smiling, he kicked him with tenderness, almost making him fall again. There was no time to feel guilty about it; the other turned back and gave him another beaming smile. There were never hard feelings between them. The deal was there were never any feelings at all.
It was a deal that worked just fine.
So, when he remembered the limp again, he buried those ideas deep down inside his head. Worry or concern were emotions he had no interest in experiencing. Ever. Not for him. Not for them.
Hastening his pace, he moved forward and grabbed the other’s shoulder. Another new addition to his repertoire. He had never been the one to make the first move; he always sat and waited for things to happen. But the other made him want things that were away, made him crave for them with a thirst larger than life. For a moment, he entertained the thought of massaging him, remembering his aching body, but it felt too personal. Too obvious. He bit the earlobe he had brought closer to his face, devouring the scent that grew teasing him bellow that neck. Breathing with depth, he licked it. Sensing the other’s faint shudder against his body, they both moved faster. Their feet made the well-known walk to the backroom where no one ever came. It always surprised him how they managed to do everything so quietly, so civilized right up until the moment they closed the door. Before they finished every necessary step -the walking, the finding, the seeing if someone was nearby, the closing- they gave nothing away. Their intentions seemed even undisclosed to themselves. But when they locked that door, the music was a numb echo behind them, and the darkness was a simple reminder that things were never perfect... when that time came, they both left all control behind the other side of the room.
Inside that room, the world no longer existed, and they both took advantage of what that meant.
Because it meant no more pretensions, no more self-control. No more masks in their faces. Because when they wanted to touch each other with absolute liberty, without fear of someone seeing, at last they could. Reach for the other, reach and enjoy.
He was thrown against the closed door, with no intention to imply any sense of chivalry. It was rough, it was mandatory, it was what he had always wanted to experience before. Tugging the other closer, he closed his lips around that neck that taunted him. Skin and skin, both heated and pulsing, touched each other without propriety. Grunting, he felt a hand descending from his chest to the hem of his shirt. This was when the clock started to act, when the countdown began. He tried and did his best to ignore it for the most part, but it was still a conscious presence at all times. The hand was lingering above the end of his clothes and his belly. He felt a promising finger almost dancing above it. Everything the other did was a calculated act, he was the more experienced of the two after all. And he was testing him, seeing until when he could play around before he snapped. The clock reminded him that, even though he wanted it, they couldn’t afford to play for too long.
“Fucking tease, stop doing that and move” he said almost unhearably. His lips and teeth were touching and grasping the delicate skin that was so close and only his, with expertise.
The other chuckled, making his throat vibrate underneath his tongue. “Always so demanding”
“You don’t want to see me when I’m been demanding”
“Are you going to turn into your business mode? Scare me like you do with your competitors?”
He tugged the other by the hips and pushed him against the door. A couple of boxes placed near by trembled with the strength of the motion. “Like you don’t like that” he said, biting down and marking the other where he liked it best. The entrance of that pale, tender, and soft collarbone was only his to claim.
“You don’t know what I like”. The hand lowered itself, only a small inch, and grasped the edge of his trousers. “You think you do but you have no idea”. His own hand was now too busy to pay attention to the other’s words. Pulling him closer, clashing chest to chest, he went and bit the earlobe once again. Licking it, almost sucking the base entirely, he felt the other gasp.
“What was that?” he asked, drowning a laugh. “I don’t know what you like?”. He left his hand enter the back of the other’s jeans and feel the soft skin between his lower back and pants. His skin had been cold at that point, but what he felt was hot and warmed his fingers at once. He felt the other shuddered again. “I think I know a couple of things”
The hand moved all the way through at last, and opened his trousers with one expert motion. “This and that” the other said, tugging it down to his thighs. “It doesn’t count”
“I know your body” he replied. The room had no windows, and it was almost in the most absolute darkness. Only the dim light that appeared timidly between the door and the floor gave away a faint sense of direction. He didn’t need the light to know where he was standing, or what he was touching. It didn’t matter to him, he knew almost every part by heart, recreating it in his idle head at night when he laid with nothing better to do. “It’s enough for me”
“How can you be so arrogant still, with my hand between your legs?”
“Another part of my charm, I guess”
A cold finger started to roam around his inner thighs, going all the way to the front of his pants but stopping at the edge of it. The other was a natural teaser, he couldn't help himself. It was one of the things he liked the most about everything. “Who said in his right mind you were charming?”
“Why else would you be here?” He now spoke in between kisses. One in the earlobe, other in the neck. His mouth followed the natural trail to the collarbone, and sucked right in the middle of it. The chest against his own raised up and down, and the hand that was trying to fool around with his pants wavered for a second. “Now, take it off before I rip it to pieces”. He felt the soft lump falling next to his right foot and the next time he went to kiss him, only open and bare skin stood in front of his lips.
“I’ve must be more stupid than I thought”
“Must be” he said, deciding those would be his final words for the evening. They were wasting too much time chattering, when they could be doing other things. Silencing him with his own mouth, he let the other opened him with his tongue. They both tasted of that same terrible beer. Everything felt suddenly adequate to the scenario they had built for this moment.
He pulled the other’s jeans down as well, letting him step inside between his opened legs. They were both hard now and with only their frail pants standing in between their bodies, they both groaned at each other’s necks. The friction was both necessary and dangerous. If they took it too far too fast, everything would be over too soon. Yet, they had to finish at some point. This wasn't some dalliance they could sustain all night long. The night wasn't eternal for them, not when they were together. He wanted to think that was a shame, but his mind stopped working when he felt the naked chest disappear from his front. Sensing the path of wet kisses the other was leaving through his stomach, he shut his mind off.
No more for tonight.
His pants came down after some seconds, and the other took him in his mouth at once. It seemed they were both tired of the playing, the tip toeing, and the act of pretending this was something more than what it really was.
A senseless and meaningless fuck. There wasn’t anything else involved.
The tongue that moved with diligence around the head of his cock started to follow the full length of it. He shuddered and struggled to keep his legs in position. Who would like to repeat the first time it had happened and he had come far too soon for everybody’s taste? His face still went bright red remembering it, remembering the other's surprised expression. When people asked him what he was thinking on those moments, he always lied with a masterful precision.
His body felt alive to the core of its own existence. Wondering if such thing was even possible, he tugged the other’s dark hair and pushed his lips closer to his own skin. The other's hands were keeping his hips in place, but it wasn't enough. Everything felt too obvious, too awake. He didn't know if reaching such level of awareness in one’s body was an actual possibility but he had nothing against making the fantasy live further. For as long as he could have it. “Fucking hell”. His voice was shaky, his legs as well. “God, fucking fuck”
Feeling a chuckle erupting below his waist, he pulled the hair with more strength. He had always been vocal, since he could remember the first time ten years ago. It did not mean he liked it, or it made him feel good about himself. His voice and his words placed him in a vulnerable state. A position where the barriers every person should have with the rest fell with splendour. And only because the masterful job of somebody else’s tongue claiming ownership over his own sensitive skin.
Picking the command of ‘stop laughing and get to it’, the other speed up the ups and lows of his mouth. He felt the tip of himself reaching the end of the throat presented to him. The man below him was a gift, he couldn't deny it even if he wanted to. An offering for something he didn't know he had done to deserve it. And he was afraid, almost terrified of breaking it into a million pieces too soon. Afraid of ripping the wrapper with too much strength, with unnecessary roughness. Because he didn't deserve it, that part was clear enough for him. “C’mon!” he grunted, his voice low and with an animal intonation, “keep going”.
He was going to rip apart the wrapper at some point, it was something written in his future. In their conjoint moment. And like everything regarding this moment and this man, the expiration date was both inevitable and near. He couldn't say an exact date, a day in the calendar where the finish line stood, but he knew it already. So, bound to make the most of everything, he felt his release approaching him.
The other made haste, even more than before, reaching the tip of his cock all the way every time. He wanted to scream, to say too many things at once, and he was certain he would only mean half of them. Still, his mouth felt eager to be useful and started to curse without making any sense. It was all very fitting for the time. Nothing made sense in his life any more, not since the past three months. While his knees started to crumble and the inevitable of the ending was almost there, he felt startled to realize it. Three months already, ninety days. Time went by too fast for his taste, and yet some things never happened when they were necessary.
“Yes, yes, yes” he said, taking the hair between his fingers with a mixture of hardship and tenderness. He wanted to be sweeter in these moments, but he didn't know either how or if it was allowed. A part of him whispered over his shoulder that perhaps it was. Perhaps the other might welcome a soft gesture even. But as soon as that voice spoke, the other was already done and getting up from his feet. There was never any evidence left of what his body made, not when he was with him. The first time, he had been both shocked and in awe. No one had ever taken him in whole like that before, taken the most intimate thing he had to offer and receive it without asking.
Licking the insides of the other’s mouth, as he offered it to his own tongue with a cheeky smile, the thrill of what was to come gave him a new air. Yes, the first portion of their actions did bring him absolute pleasure. But the discovery of how much he enjoyed having the other inside his mouth could never wear off. He never thought it would be a statement he would be making without flinching, or without second guessing, but he loved giving head. And if by the other’s reactions every time he did it were to say something about his technic, he wasn't too bad.
“Stop smiling like a fool and get to it, will you?”
“Yes sire” he said, still smiling.
The other was more than ready to go. With one touch of his mouth against the tightly pressed fabric against his crotch, he felt him shudder. He had to put his hands against the door for balance, and was making impatient noises with every second he did nothing. If the other could be a natural born teaser, he could be a taught one. And he had learned from the best in fact. Leaving small kisses around the zone, yet making extra care to not even touch it, he saw how the other’s stern façade crumbled. The light crashing underneath the door gave the perfect angle to see that angular face transform into a mirage. The smile that adorned it contrasted with the serious frown he tried so hard to show. ‘Stop fooling around and get to it’ the expression read.
He took him all at once with one swift motion, and relished of what he could enjoy. The taste was the one thing he could never get used to. It made every time feel like the very first. And through those initial seconds, it made him feel like the man he had been on that occasion. On the verge of panicking, on the edge of complete stasis. He didn’t need to use his free hands to keep the other in place, or to keep those bony and pale hips where they belonged. He knew how to behave, how to control himself. It was something admirable. And if maybe they had met on another time, he could see himself admiring such resolution of character. But praising someone’s moral high ground became a difficult task when you had that someone’s cock deep down your throat at the same time.
“Oh god, yes” he heard the other whisper when his left hand moved from the front to the back.
He mumbled in agreement, letting his finger touch all the right places. It was something he had learned to do with him, on a previous occasion. And he had been more than ready to do it every time they met after learning it made the other tremble like a child. Sometimes he wondered if somebody else knew about it, if someone else had discovered such soft spot like he had. Sometimes he wished nobody knew about it, other times he wished he didn't think about that sort of things.
Moving fast, letting the sounds of wetness fill the empty vacuum the room had, he emptied his mind from these ideas. They meant nothing, nor added anything substantial to the moment. He reminded himself to only focus on that: living the moment thinking it might be the last one. He grabbed all the skin he could find with one hand and letting his tongue move with absolute liberty around the tip of it, thought of nothing.
The other’s voice was becoming a soft breeze in the back of his head. “Oh my god, oh god, keep going”. As if he was alone, with nothing but the company of what he could reach with his immediate body. That was how he knew he was close to the ending, when the other became nothing but a piece of flesh for him to devour and make into a mess. He sucked with everything he had and felt the exhilaration leaving the body against him. Savouring everything he could have and trying to reacquaint himself with the sensation once again, he came back. His breathing was hasty, his hands started to tremble as they did every time it was over.
“You’re getting better at this” the other said, trying to find air in his lungs as well.
“Shut up, you know I’m the best”
“Debatable”
He got up and wiped clean his knees from any trace of dirt. If only they could find a more civilized place to do it.
They cleaned what they could see in silence. He rested his back against the door, not sure what to do with himself as every other time. He heard steps coming closer from behind him, but surprisingly even for himself, he didn’t fear the discovery. Must be the endorphins still dancing around his brain and veins. It had been with the other how he had discovered the way sex made you feel invincible. Like you were standing on the top of the world and nothing could reach you.
“Get dress, don’t get exhibitionist now”
“You know I’m irresistible”
“Debatable” he repeated, “and don’t get cocky with your pants down. It’s not a good look”
They could have stayed like this for a longer time, sharing the strange and unique mixture of both awkward and comfortable silence, but nothing lasted forever. His mobile started to vibrate, still tucked in the back pocket of the trousers that rested next to his ankles. “Duty calls” the other said, his tone unreadable. He got dressed, remembering who he was and walked away from the other’s position. Hearing as the other put his belt, he answered. “Arthur Pendragon”.
It was Vivian, letting him know she wasn't going to wait for him any longer.
He hanged up as soon as she was finished.
“Work?”
“Work”
“What sort of work-hours do you have? I thought you were the boss”
“Shut up” he said. The mood was over, the excitement long dead.
“Well, see you when I see you then”
The music came back to his ears when the other opened the door and left. A sudden rush came unto him, and before he could bite his tongue to stop from making a fool of himself, he called the other. “Merlin!” he said, following behind with moderation.
Merlin turned back and glared at him confused. Yes, he could see the source of this. Not only saying the other’s name was a rare moment, but acknowledging each other outside that room was unheard of. “Goodbye” Arthur said.
Only for a moment, he thought he saw a small smile appearing through the other’s mouth. But perhaps the lights that flickered with no sense were messing with his perception. “Good luck on your trip” Merlin replied before disappearing into the mass of dancers.
Arthur stayed longer at the bar, drinking something to make the taste of Merlin’s come wash away from his tongue. Just in case Vivian might kiss him when he came home.
The lights on the flat were out when he stepped inside. Without feeling the need to check, he walked with an automatized pace to the guest room and closed the door. Nobody could know why, but every Friday morning Arthur wasn't in his best shape. People at work joked he was going clubbing without them and staying up all night like a fool. He always laughed at those guesses. What could he be doing at a pub on a Thursday night without his friends? He was a happily married man after all.