Fic: Boys Meet Boys
May. 24th, 2004 03:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fan_eluneThere was this hilarious "top ten things you will never hear in slash" list that ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
khylarenelf had pointed out from Citizens Against Bad Slash. Next thing we knew, we'd made it into a challenge. Get all of those quotes into a slash fic (with a license to slightly modify them to have them fit the fic/characters/pairing/genre better):
10) "Deep down, I'm not really into guys."
9) "That's OK. I didn't really wanna have sex anyway."
8) "You remind me of my dad."
7) "I can't sleep with him. I hardly know him."
6) "Forget about the sex. Let's just cuddle."
5) "Wait a minute. I have to go phone my mum."
4) "Guys like you make me want to stay home and play with my Billy doll."
3) "How about touching both sides next time, Scooter?"
2) "We don't need lube. I like to scream like a woman."
1) "Not tonight. I have a headache."
So this happens after the end of Boy Meets Boy, you're warned if you don't wanna get spoiled - those boys belong to Sandra Delete, kudos to her! It also happens after the end of QaF UK, during Vince and Stuart's lil American tour - those two and any other character mentioned from QaF belond to Russel T Davies and whoever holds their copyrights.
Now, if you give this a review, I just might be so happy I'd "Whee!" all alone at my place. (You're puzzled as to what "Whee!"ing is? Go read BMB already.) Also, this was not betaed, so if you see any mistakes whatsoever or have any suggestion at all, please do let me know, you'll be doing me a favour.
Boys Meet Boys
Gio glanced back to Harley and Mikhael, walking together a few steps behind Tybalt and him. They looked boyfriend-y and horribly sweet together, as usual, Mikhael with his tall, dark'n socially inept look, and Harley his usual hot self in tight worn jeans and a short Four Star Mary tank top. The usual pang of jealousy did not come, though, and Gio was more than glad for it. It seemed that his decision, a few months ago, to move to New York and have Tybalt come along had been a good one. A few months that had done the both of them a world of good, which in turn enabled them to visit Harl and Mikhael.
Gio was officially not pining for Harley anymore. Despite his hotness and short blond hair and goatee and clear blue eyes and amazing body and fantastic singing skills and shibby way with a guitar and oh yes, that belly ring that made Gio want to do sinful things with his tongue.
He pushed the images out of his mind to focus on Tybalt, strolling alongside him in that carefully careless way of his. So completely the opposite of Harls. An impressive mane of red hair, green eyes that sparkled more often than not with deviousness, a taller body (though nowhere near as tall as Mikhael, and much more slender), and everything but the honest, non-calculating behaviour of Harley. Every bit as hot, though, just a whole different kind of hot.
"I can't believe we're taking them clubbing," Gio remarked with an incredulous shake of his head, before mechanically pushing back the stray strands of brown hair that got into his eyes at the motion.
"Believe it," Tybalt countered with an arrogant smirk. "I could have them do so many other things, given the right motivation... They wouldn't want me to be bored and take up my old habits, would they?"
Gio grinned at him, pushing back the uneasy guilt he felt at their dissimulation to focus on the fun that had issued from it. "The look on Mik's face when he saw you... Good idea to not tell them you were coming with."
"I only have good ideas. Like tonight."
Gio made a sceptical face. "I don't know. A gay club? Not my kinda scene either."
"We've gotta widen our horizons. There'll be all sorts of men... and boys, too. All willing. All writhing on the dance floor, hot and sweaty..."
"You know, deep down, I'm not really into guys. I mean, I'm more into persons."
"I do know. Remember the part where I'm bi too?" Tybalt leered. "If you forget, picture the things we did with that girl three nights ago. That should help your memory along."
Gio felt his cheeks heat up and smiled sheepishly. "I remember alright." Yes, he'd shed his old "Skids" persona (along with his beloved cap... though truth be told, he kept it at the bottom of a drawer under his boxers) when he decided to move to New York, but it did not mean he was anywhere near as ruthless as Tybalt could be.
"Anyway, if the thought of countless men rubbing glistening body parts together doesn't make you look forward to tonight, how about how utterly out of place Mikhael is bound to look?"
"That's your thing, Tyb." Gio grinned good-heartedly. "I never really had anything against him personally. I even tried my best to like him."
"Right. How about... loud music and cool light effects?"
Okay, so maybe there was still more of the Skids persona left in him than he was willing to admit.
Gio broke forth into a childish smile. "Shibby."
***
Mikhael sighed again, for what had to be the tenth time in five minutes. Harley looked up at his boyfriend, whose arm was slung over his shoulders in what could seem a careless way, but was in fact a possessive statement. Mikhael's strong features reflected the annoyed look in his dark eyes.
"What is it, Mik?"
"Apart from my former stalker former boyfriend coming to 'visit'?" That was a very feeble attempt at humour, and Harley only raised his eyebrows expectantly. Mik relented after a second. "We're going to a club." Mik's grip on Harley's shoulders tightened slightly, and the younger man grinned as he realised it was always about the same thing.
"You know you're the only man for me, babe. That's what those rings are all about," he added, referring to the commitment rings they had exchanged a few months ago. He tilted his head up towards Mik's, giving him his honest look. "'Sides, I should be the one sighing my way there. The music's crap in those places."
Mikhael could not help a smile. "Again, I doubt taking our guests to a punk concert would do much in introducing them to the L.A. gay scene, Mr VIP."
"Yeah, we'll do that tomorrow." Harley slid his hand in Mik's back pocket, enjoying making him squirm slightly. "Y'know, if you don't wanna come, I can just take Skids along. You could go to an art show with Tybalt..."
"You'd leave me alone with Tybalt?" Mikhael asked in a scandalised tone, his voice bordering on panicky. Then he seemed to take in the sparkle in Harl's eyes. "You're really just saying that to make me realise that a punk concert is the lesser of two evils."
"Yep."
"You're evil."
"Thanks."
Mikhael stopped walking and bent down to kiss Harley. The kiss was long, soft and tender. Harley vaguely heard Skids shout at them to hurry up, and Tybalt add something, but he waved them on carelessly, focusing on the feel of Mik's lips on his and Mik's tongue in his mouth and Mik's body all along his and Mik's skin under his fingers, and...
"I love you, little one," Mik said as he broke the kiss, then pecked the tip of Harley's nose. A sudden uneasy look fleeted across his features. "You know, about earlier..."
"Don't sweat it," Harley insisted with a small warm smile. "Happens to everyone. With the stress of Tybalt being here, it's no wonder you, er, had difficulty rising to the occasion."
"I still feel like I... failed you."
"Nah, that's okay," Harley insisted, rubbing his palm comfortingly on his boyfriend's chest. "I didn't really wanna have sex anyway."
Mikhael looked at him blankly for a few seconds. "I'm supposed to believe that?"
Harley broke forth into an unrepentant smile. "Good point. But still... it's okay. It'll all come back to normal soon enough, you'll see."
"And then I won't let you out of bed for a long while," Mik stated quite seriously as they resumed walking towards Tybalt and Skids, who had stopped to wait for them a few feet ahead. "I should order in some chains."
"Don't we still have the handcuffs we bought after that season six episode of Buffy?"
"We broke them that time we had to hold down that thing Tabitha sent us because the rent was late."
"Right." Harley smiled nostalgically. "Good old times."
"I'll order in some chains," Mikhael decidedly repeated.
Harley stood on the tip of his toes and dropped a peck on his boyfriend's cheek, smiling at the feel of his beginning of a stubble. The scratchiness of Mik's cheeks could be the ultimate thing in certain... situations.
"You two didn't have to wait for us," Harley remarked as they caught up with Tybalt and Skids.
Tybalt cast him an amused sidelong glance and Mik's arm snaked itself around Harley's waist protectively. "Given neither of us knows this city, or even the name of the club we're going to... yes, we did."
Mik was making a huge fuss about Tybalt, but now that the redhead seemed to have dropped wanting to seduce Harley and to make Mik's life hell, Harley didn't find it hard to get along with him. He was Skids' friend – roomie – whatever those two were. Boyfriends? To learn through Cyan that those two had moved away together had been quite a shock, but now that Harley saw how much Skids – Gio – had changed, he had to admit that the two of them worked well together, weirdness factor aside. And Harley liked anyone who could make Skids happy.
"It's called Babel," he informed them.
***
It wasn't his style of music either, granted. Loud techno beats, meaningless lyrics, annoying over-simplistic tunes that would probably stick in his mind all through the next day, driving him crazy. But it was worth it, to be met with such a sight. Gio might have a thing with the flashy coloured spotlights, but Tybalt was in for the sight. It made the music worth it in more than one way.
Writhing, squirming, thrashing, dancing, rubbing, skipping, wriggling, all of those young bodies... It was much hotter than any straight club he'd been to, for some reason he couldn't fathom. But right then, he did not much care.
He glanced at Gio by his side. His friend had his usual childish look of wonder on his face, which in turn made Tybalt smirk. Lost in amazement, Gio walked into Harley, who then stumbled upon a couple of men.
"Oopsie," Gio stated with an apologetic look at Harley.
"Sorry," Harley apologised to the men he'd walked into.
They were older than the four of them, maybe thirty. The one who turned around and eyed Harley up and down hungrily had short curly black hair and stood with his hips slightly forward in a way that seemed to say he was sex itself. Tybalt did not find that hard to believe. His features might not be classically beautiful, but there was something undeniably, forcefully attractive about him. And he knew it, thrived on it, revelled in it.
"No problem at all," the man said with a smirk as he finally looked up at Harley's face. He had an accent, which Tybalt would place from Ireland. "Really."
Predictably, Mik stepped to Harley's side, sliding his arm around Harley's waist and clearly meaning to impress the smaller man by his stature. "He's spoken for."
"Spoken for?" the man repeated with amusement. "Are old-fashioned phrases making a come-back here?"
"You remind me of my dad," his companion agreed, speaking up for the first time with a different accent. Somewhere in the north of England. "That's the kind of things he'd say."
Tybalt got his first good look at him. He was probably too easily overlooked, if he were always in the company of the Irishman, but he was worth the sight as well. Short fair hair, slightly taller than his companion, clear eyes whose colour Tybalt could not distinguish in the club's half-light – while the Irishman was magnetic, this one was... cute. The same kind of cute that Gio was.
The Irishman seemed to now be eyeing Mikhael up and down, and Tybalt quelled down an unexpected pang of jealousy. He was supposed to be long over Mik.
"I prefer another term myself," the guy was saying. "Taken. The image is much more suiting. And I wouldn't mind... taking... two taken fellows."
Tybalt raised his eyebrows, interested in seeing where this was going. Would the perfect couple be drawn in by the proposition? If they ever were to take part in a threesome, surely this would be it – well, given that Mikhael had said no to the possibility of a threesome with Tybalt, due to the tiny, irrelevant detail that he hated the redhead, the Irishman really was the next best thing. Without saying anything, the man was able to speak of a night filled with moans and whimpers, ragged breathing and more than a few cries.
"We'll go get drinks now," Mikhael said. "Thirsty." Was Tybalt imagining his voice to be slightly shaky? Hard to say, with the way they were this short of shouting to be heard over the music.
Mikhael started to steer Harley away, but his boyfriend stopped him and categorically told the amused-looking Irishman, "And it's not an invitation to follow." He paused, turned to Mikhael. "Right?"
A beat. "Right."
With that, Harley all but dragged his boyfriend away.
"Losing your touch?" the cute guy teased the Irishman, who was admiring Harley's ass as the couple walked away.
"You don't wanna insist if they don't want you to," Tybalt told him with a grin. "The short one packs a mean punch."
The Irishman raised amused eyebrows at him. "And you'd know about that?"
"Harley broke his nose," Gio explained.
"Twice," Tybalt added. And each time had been worth it.
The man pursed his lips in acknowledgement as he nodded. "Thanks for the warning. I'm Stuart." He nodded towards his friend. "He's Vince."
"Gio."
"Tybalt."
"You fellows from around here?"
Tybalt tuned out the answer Gio was giving Stuart, studying Vince instead. Sure, Stuart was something, but Tybalt himself knew all of his tricks, to have practiced them at one point or another. Vince was – fresher – than his friend. He was also following the exchange between him and Gio, completely oblivious to the way Tybalt was studying him.
That would not do.
Tybalt stepped closer to him, and immediately the clear eyes were redirected his way. Tybalt smirked, the very same smirk Stuart seemed to pull off just as easily. "I bet he usually gets all the attention," he said with a nod towards the Irishman.
"He does."
"So you're the sidekick?"
"You could say that."
Tybalt took another step closer to him, an invitation clearly dancing in his eyes, on his face, in his stance. "That seems unfair."
"Does it?"
"Oh, come on, Vince!" Stuart intervened with a grin. "He fancies you. Stop with the short answers and go shag him!"
It was hard to say with the lightning of the club, but Tybalt could have sworn Vince's cheeks actually flushed. "I can't shag him, I hardly know him!" Vince laid it so heavy on the sarcasm that it was obvious he was actually masking his lack of self-confidence.
"I think," Stuart grabbed Gio's hand with a smile at Tybalt, "that we ought to dance first, shag later. A little later."
Gio shot a helpless glance at Tybalt as Stuart pulled him onto the dance floor. Tybalt chuckled. Gio, dancing to this music? Priceless.
"So. Should we... should we go and dance?"
Tybalt looked back at Vince and smiled his charming smile, tilting his head to the side. "Sure, precious."
***
"All I'm saying is, you didn't look unaffected!" Harley pressed on, then stopped as Mik paid the bartender for the couple of drinks. He drank some of his tequila before speaking up. "You clearly like him. We said we'd give it a try once, if we had an occasion, that it'd be a great way to work on your jealousy issue. That here is an occasion. If you really want to. We don't have to, you know."
Mikhael was slumped over the counter, doing his best impression of Broody!Angel, though of course he'd probably get upset if Harley mentioned that. He looked up at his boyfriend then, anguish even more visible on his features. "Do you want to?"
Harley shrugged. "I wouldn't mind. But not if you don't want to."
"You'd want to." Mik looked back down at his glass, followed the rim with a finger. "I don't... you know, with my earlier... problem..."
Realisation dawned on Harley. "Oh. Sorry, I... Hey, you know what? Forget about the sex. Let's just cuddle."
He put words into action and settled himself nicely with his back to Mik, leaning against him and entwining their fingers together on his stomach.
"We're in a gay club, filled to the brim with testosterone, and we're cuddling. Our life is of the weird," he commented, then turned his head around to plant a kiss on Mik's lips. "And I like it that way."
Mikhael smiled faintly, so Harley snuggled deeper in his arms.
"Though of course, it wouldn't hurt if it was Op: Ivy playing."
He almost felt Mikhael grimace, and chuckled under his breath.
***
They had been dancing long enough, Tybalt decided after a few songs. He leaned towards Vince. "How about we go for a walk, sexy?"
Vince smiled, still a bit uneasily, but Tybalt was starting to understand that the uneasiness only rarely completely evaded him. "Sure. Have somewhere in mind?" Then, suddenly looking down and thrusting a hand in his pocket. "Oh, wait a minute." He pulled a beeper out, read it, then looked up at Tybalt with a grimace. "I have to call my mother back. Sorry." He turned and tapped Stuart on the shoulder. "I have to call Hazel. I'll see you."
And he was gone, with a last apologetic look.
Well, fuck this.
"Did I just get dumped because he had to go phone his mother?"
"That's Vince," Stuart philosophically answered. "His loss... now you'll have to make do with us."
"I suppose I'll have to," Tybalt agreed with the same amount of irony.
"And I thought I was special," Gio declared with a mock-affronted look at Stuart. "Guys like you make me want to stay home and play with my Spike and Willow dolls. They appreciate my exact worth."
Stuart looked at Gio for a few seconds, then turned to Tybalt. "Tell me that's a figure of speech."
"Nope. He even got them signed by the actors."
"Bloody hell, how old are you?" Stuart asked Gio with a laugh. "Never mind that. I say less talk, more action?"
Watching Stuart trying to get to the back of Gio's skull by way of his mouth was one of the most arousing things Tybalt had ever witnessed. If Gio's reaction was anything to go by, Stuart was as good a kisser as he looked. Then Stuart pulled back, grabbed Tybalt by the nape and pulled him in for him to experience it first hand. Tybalt liked to think he gave as good as he got, because Stuart did not seem unaffected as he broke it up. While he had already had a hard-on from Gio, the glaze in his eyes was courtesy of Tybalt.
"You got a place?" Tybalt heard himself ask.
"Motel, two minutes from here."
And off they were.
***
"See you tomorrow!"
Harley waved goodbye at Skids as his friend jogged up through the crowd to catch up with Tybalt and the Irishman from earlier. Looked like the guy would get his threesome after all. He leaned back against Mik and smiled contentedly. This here was worth all the threesomes in the world.
He frowned as he felt something harden against his ass. "Is that..."
"I think it is," Mikhael replied, excitement seeping through his voice. "Must be the thought that we're rid of Tybalt for the night."
He turned Harley around in his embrace and kissed him hungrily, as he did whenever they were apart for a few days, a kiss that left the younger man gasping for breath and dying for more.
"Let's not waste this. Let's do it here. Now."
"Here?" Harley repeated, heart thumping loudly against his ribcage. He wondered for a split second whether this was not another Mikhael from an alternate universe.
"Here. Home's too far."
"Good point. I spotted the backroom. Let's go."
He grabbed Mikhael's hand and pulled him along. When they hit a knot in the crowd that slowed them down, hands wandered to unholy places and made Harley wish that they could get to the backroom, now. They eventually did, a dark room smelling of sex and full of coupling couples.
A man patronizingly patted another on the arm as they walked out, crossing Mikhael and Harley. "How about touching both sides next time, Scooter?"
Mikhael and Harley exchanged a look and hurried further into the room. Mikhael backed Harley against the first free strip of wall they could find. They kissed bruisingly, letting their desire express itself fully after their earlier frustration.
"Mik, let me..." Harley gasped as Mik nibbled at the soft flesh of his neck. "Let me take you this time."
"Anything you want, lovely," Mikhael replied before they kissed again. "I just need you now... any way."
Harley was working on unfastening Mikhael's flannel pants when it hit him. Committed as they were, they had stopped using condoms long ago, but... "Mik... don't we need lube?"
Mikhael pulled back and looked at him dead seriously. "No. We don't need lube. I like to scream like a woman."
If he didn't have the most painful hard-on, Harley would have undoubtedly pointed out that the overuse of sarcasm should be made into a federal offence. As it was, he simply breathed out, "I'll go get some then."
"You do that," Mikhael agreed.
Harley kissed him again, one last time. Then he looked around and stated, for the sake of it, "Anyone tries to touch him while I'm gone, I'll dig out his prostate with a rusty butter knife." He pecked Mikhael on the lips and hurried off.
When he came back with a small pocket of lube gotten from the bar – they sure knew how to satisfy their patrons – he was glad to see he would not have to put his threat into execution. He'd left the butter knife at home.
Besides, this was much better than digging out someone's prostrate, messy business that it was.
"This is... so... unlike you," he managed between kisses.
"Special... circumstances," Mikhael answered.
Really, who was Harley to argue?
***
The dark room smelled of sweat and sex. Three moist bodies had carelessly fallen down on the bed, too tired out by their recent activities to be bothered to care about which limb was whose and other such inconsequential matters. The only noise that could be heard was their regular breathing.
Then a low moan, that gained in volume.
A breathless voice. "Again?"
Two answers. "Again."
***
"That being said, Nathan's doing all right. I reckon he thinks himself king of the world, that kid. Still asks after you two now and then. You ought to get Stuart to ring him up, you know."
"Mum, not tonight, I have a headache."
"You have a headache? What kind of a bloody woman's excuse is that? Are you a fag or a girl?"
"Mum..."
A sigh. "Yes. Oh, and Bernie says hi. Hopes you'll find yourself a celebrity to shag, now you're in Los Angeles."
"Right, I wouldn't count on it, we're leaving tomorrow. Besides, I'm not exactly likely to get shagged when you cut in right before I cop off."
"Vincent Taylor, don't tell me you called your old mother when you could have had a shag."
"You sent a 999!"
"No emergency is worth letting go of a shag, son. Doesn't Stuart teach you anything?"
"I thought it might be Alexander."
"Oh. Well don't worry about him. He's doing good. I'd know if he weren't." A beat. "What about that shag? Couldn't you go find him again?"
"Stuart's taking care of him as we speak. Can't you hear?"
Just then, a loud moan coming from the room next door.
An unamused chuckle. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"
***
Harley woke up to the delightful feeling of two sleek fingers scissoring him. The French windows of their room were open and he could feel a gentle sea breeze blowing in. He moaned and shifted, letting Mikhael know rather vocally he was awake.
"Good morning, lovely."
"Good - yes!" Harley agreed more enthusiastically than he had planned when something considerably longer and thicker came to replace the fingers.
Mikhael took his time, drawing in and out of him ever so slowly. Seagulls cried outside, the only sound beside the rolling waves that came to splash on the beach – it had to be high tide. Harley closed his eyes and focused on the sensations his lover was offering him. At first it was only Mikhael inside of him, but eventually a hand came to enclose him, too, and pumped him to completion so that they came together.
After Mikhael slid out of him, Harley turned around and kissed him softly. "I'm so glad I have you." He curled himself around his lover. "Snuggle time now."
Mikhael remained silent for a while, softly stroking Harley's back. "You know, our bed is really much better than a backroom in a club. I'm all for our bed."
Harley smirked up at him. "Or our kitchen table. Or our tub. Or our couch. Or our –"
Laughing, Mikhael interrupted him. "Yes. Anything in the house."
"And the porch. Don't forget the porch. Though it's better when you don't call your followers to watch, King of the Seashore."
"I told you, I didn't do it on purpose."
Harley chuckled and kissed Mikhael again.
***
"You two do this often?" Stuart asked offhandedly as he walked out of the bathroom, towelling his wet hair.
Tybalt slipped on his t-shirt with a ruthless smile. "Not nearly often enough."
"What about... Vince?" Gio asked uncertainly. "Are you guys...?"
Stuart raised his eyebrows at him. "What? Boyfriends? Hell no." He paused, frowning, as he crossed to the door. "Are you?"
Tybalt and Gio exchanged an undecided look before turning back to Stuart. "We're not really sure," Tybalt explained.
"But working on it," Gio added hopefully.
"Right." Stuart opened the door and waited for them to walk out. "Thanks for the night, boys. Bye."
The door closed on them. Gio and Tybalt exchanged an amused look and Tybalt stretched his arms, face turned up towards the sun. "That was a good night."
Gio took his hand in his as they walked away from the hotel. "It was." His thumb was stroking circles on the back of Tybalt's hand in the most distracting of ways.
"The lovebirds don't know what they missed."
They shared a look that said they had both painfully realised how many different layers you could see in that sentence. Gio stopped and pulled Tybalt forward, kissing him softly with his hands on his friend's hips. They rested their foreheads together and both smiled slightly.
"You still over Harley?"
"Completely," Gio answered. "You still over Mik?"
"Was there ever any doubt?"
They smiled again, kissed, then resumed walking.
"I like the Californian climate, in any case," Tybalt remarked after a few seconds' silence. "We should come disrupt Mik's life and visit Harley more often."
"You're only saying that 'cause you hope we'd get more nights like this."
Tybalt shot Gio an amused look, complete with his trademark smirk. "I can give you a night like this any night of the week, Gio."
"Is that a challenge?"
"Might be."
"You're on."
"Deal." A beat. "Do you have a clue in what direction their house is?"
***
Vince stood in the doorway with an amused smile, bag slung over his shoulder. "I could hardly sleep last night. Try and keep the volume down next time, will you?"
"It's not my fault they were so vocal about my performance." Stuart closed his bag and grabbed the room keys. "You could have joined us, you know. I doubt the kid would have protested, and the redhead would have welcomed you. They were both worth it."
They put the bags in the jeep and headed for the check-in to give the keys back and get their deposit.
Vince just smiled at his friend's teasing. "And give you the chance to shag me at last? In your dreams."
~~ the end ~~
Wouldn't mind getting a piece of our favourite bisexual semi-couple either? Let me know you loved them too. Reviews rock my world.
And again, if you wanna know everything about Mik and Harl's relationship up to now, what kind of evil landlady Tabitha was, how much of a psycho-stalker Tybalt used to be, what the hell is up with that cap of Gio's and how come he got his Buffy dolls signed, who Cyan was (Drummers do it with rhythm and chemists do it periodically on tables, baby!), or how I can call myself a Cy/Skids 'shipper and write this, go read Boy Meets Boy! There's plenty more where this comes from.
khylarenelf had pointed out from Citizens Against Bad Slash. Next thing we knew, we'd made it into a challenge. Get all of those quotes into a slash fic (with a license to slightly modify them to have them fit the fic/characters/pairing/genre better): 10) "Deep down, I'm not really into guys."
9) "That's OK. I didn't really wanna have sex anyway."
8) "You remind me of my dad."
7) "I can't sleep with him. I hardly know him."
6) "Forget about the sex. Let's just cuddle."
5) "Wait a minute. I have to go phone my mum."
4) "Guys like you make me want to stay home and play with my Billy doll."
3) "How about touching both sides next time, Scooter?"
2) "We don't need lube. I like to scream like a woman."
1) "Not tonight. I have a headache."
So this happens after the end of Boy Meets Boy, you're warned if you don't wanna get spoiled - those boys belong to Sandra Delete, kudos to her! It also happens after the end of QaF UK, during Vince and Stuart's lil American tour - those two and any other character mentioned from QaF belond to Russel T Davies and whoever holds their copyrights.
Now, if you give this a review, I just might be so happy I'd "Whee!" all alone at my place. (You're puzzled as to what "Whee!"ing is? Go read BMB already.) Also, this was not betaed, so if you see any mistakes whatsoever or have any suggestion at all, please do let me know, you'll be doing me a favour.
Boys Meet Boys
Gio glanced back to Harley and Mikhael, walking together a few steps behind Tybalt and him. They looked boyfriend-y and horribly sweet together, as usual, Mikhael with his tall, dark'n socially inept look, and Harley his usual hot self in tight worn jeans and a short Four Star Mary tank top. The usual pang of jealousy did not come, though, and Gio was more than glad for it. It seemed that his decision, a few months ago, to move to New York and have Tybalt come along had been a good one. A few months that had done the both of them a world of good, which in turn enabled them to visit Harl and Mikhael.
Gio was officially not pining for Harley anymore. Despite his hotness and short blond hair and goatee and clear blue eyes and amazing body and fantastic singing skills and shibby way with a guitar and oh yes, that belly ring that made Gio want to do sinful things with his tongue.
He pushed the images out of his mind to focus on Tybalt, strolling alongside him in that carefully careless way of his. So completely the opposite of Harls. An impressive mane of red hair, green eyes that sparkled more often than not with deviousness, a taller body (though nowhere near as tall as Mikhael, and much more slender), and everything but the honest, non-calculating behaviour of Harley. Every bit as hot, though, just a whole different kind of hot.
"I can't believe we're taking them clubbing," Gio remarked with an incredulous shake of his head, before mechanically pushing back the stray strands of brown hair that got into his eyes at the motion.
"Believe it," Tybalt countered with an arrogant smirk. "I could have them do so many other things, given the right motivation... They wouldn't want me to be bored and take up my old habits, would they?"
Gio grinned at him, pushing back the uneasy guilt he felt at their dissimulation to focus on the fun that had issued from it. "The look on Mik's face when he saw you... Good idea to not tell them you were coming with."
"I only have good ideas. Like tonight."
Gio made a sceptical face. "I don't know. A gay club? Not my kinda scene either."
"We've gotta widen our horizons. There'll be all sorts of men... and boys, too. All willing. All writhing on the dance floor, hot and sweaty..."
"You know, deep down, I'm not really into guys. I mean, I'm more into persons."
"I do know. Remember the part where I'm bi too?" Tybalt leered. "If you forget, picture the things we did with that girl three nights ago. That should help your memory along."
Gio felt his cheeks heat up and smiled sheepishly. "I remember alright." Yes, he'd shed his old "Skids" persona (along with his beloved cap... though truth be told, he kept it at the bottom of a drawer under his boxers) when he decided to move to New York, but it did not mean he was anywhere near as ruthless as Tybalt could be.
"Anyway, if the thought of countless men rubbing glistening body parts together doesn't make you look forward to tonight, how about how utterly out of place Mikhael is bound to look?"
"That's your thing, Tyb." Gio grinned good-heartedly. "I never really had anything against him personally. I even tried my best to like him."
"Right. How about... loud music and cool light effects?"
Okay, so maybe there was still more of the Skids persona left in him than he was willing to admit.
Gio broke forth into a childish smile. "Shibby."
***
Mikhael sighed again, for what had to be the tenth time in five minutes. Harley looked up at his boyfriend, whose arm was slung over his shoulders in what could seem a careless way, but was in fact a possessive statement. Mikhael's strong features reflected the annoyed look in his dark eyes.
"What is it, Mik?"
"Apart from my former stalker former boyfriend coming to 'visit'?" That was a very feeble attempt at humour, and Harley only raised his eyebrows expectantly. Mik relented after a second. "We're going to a club." Mik's grip on Harley's shoulders tightened slightly, and the younger man grinned as he realised it was always about the same thing.
"You know you're the only man for me, babe. That's what those rings are all about," he added, referring to the commitment rings they had exchanged a few months ago. He tilted his head up towards Mik's, giving him his honest look. "'Sides, I should be the one sighing my way there. The music's crap in those places."
Mikhael could not help a smile. "Again, I doubt taking our guests to a punk concert would do much in introducing them to the L.A. gay scene, Mr VIP."
"Yeah, we'll do that tomorrow." Harley slid his hand in Mik's back pocket, enjoying making him squirm slightly. "Y'know, if you don't wanna come, I can just take Skids along. You could go to an art show with Tybalt..."
"You'd leave me alone with Tybalt?" Mikhael asked in a scandalised tone, his voice bordering on panicky. Then he seemed to take in the sparkle in Harl's eyes. "You're really just saying that to make me realise that a punk concert is the lesser of two evils."
"Yep."
"You're evil."
"Thanks."
Mikhael stopped walking and bent down to kiss Harley. The kiss was long, soft and tender. Harley vaguely heard Skids shout at them to hurry up, and Tybalt add something, but he waved them on carelessly, focusing on the feel of Mik's lips on his and Mik's tongue in his mouth and Mik's body all along his and Mik's skin under his fingers, and...
"I love you, little one," Mik said as he broke the kiss, then pecked the tip of Harley's nose. A sudden uneasy look fleeted across his features. "You know, about earlier..."
"Don't sweat it," Harley insisted with a small warm smile. "Happens to everyone. With the stress of Tybalt being here, it's no wonder you, er, had difficulty rising to the occasion."
"I still feel like I... failed you."
"Nah, that's okay," Harley insisted, rubbing his palm comfortingly on his boyfriend's chest. "I didn't really wanna have sex anyway."
Mikhael looked at him blankly for a few seconds. "I'm supposed to believe that?"
Harley broke forth into an unrepentant smile. "Good point. But still... it's okay. It'll all come back to normal soon enough, you'll see."
"And then I won't let you out of bed for a long while," Mik stated quite seriously as they resumed walking towards Tybalt and Skids, who had stopped to wait for them a few feet ahead. "I should order in some chains."
"Don't we still have the handcuffs we bought after that season six episode of Buffy?"
"We broke them that time we had to hold down that thing Tabitha sent us because the rent was late."
"Right." Harley smiled nostalgically. "Good old times."
"I'll order in some chains," Mikhael decidedly repeated.
Harley stood on the tip of his toes and dropped a peck on his boyfriend's cheek, smiling at the feel of his beginning of a stubble. The scratchiness of Mik's cheeks could be the ultimate thing in certain... situations.
"You two didn't have to wait for us," Harley remarked as they caught up with Tybalt and Skids.
Tybalt cast him an amused sidelong glance and Mik's arm snaked itself around Harley's waist protectively. "Given neither of us knows this city, or even the name of the club we're going to... yes, we did."
Mik was making a huge fuss about Tybalt, but now that the redhead seemed to have dropped wanting to seduce Harley and to make Mik's life hell, Harley didn't find it hard to get along with him. He was Skids' friend – roomie – whatever those two were. Boyfriends? To learn through Cyan that those two had moved away together had been quite a shock, but now that Harley saw how much Skids – Gio – had changed, he had to admit that the two of them worked well together, weirdness factor aside. And Harley liked anyone who could make Skids happy.
"It's called Babel," he informed them.
***
It wasn't his style of music either, granted. Loud techno beats, meaningless lyrics, annoying over-simplistic tunes that would probably stick in his mind all through the next day, driving him crazy. But it was worth it, to be met with such a sight. Gio might have a thing with the flashy coloured spotlights, but Tybalt was in for the sight. It made the music worth it in more than one way.
Writhing, squirming, thrashing, dancing, rubbing, skipping, wriggling, all of those young bodies... It was much hotter than any straight club he'd been to, for some reason he couldn't fathom. But right then, he did not much care.
He glanced at Gio by his side. His friend had his usual childish look of wonder on his face, which in turn made Tybalt smirk. Lost in amazement, Gio walked into Harley, who then stumbled upon a couple of men.
"Oopsie," Gio stated with an apologetic look at Harley.
"Sorry," Harley apologised to the men he'd walked into.
They were older than the four of them, maybe thirty. The one who turned around and eyed Harley up and down hungrily had short curly black hair and stood with his hips slightly forward in a way that seemed to say he was sex itself. Tybalt did not find that hard to believe. His features might not be classically beautiful, but there was something undeniably, forcefully attractive about him. And he knew it, thrived on it, revelled in it.
"No problem at all," the man said with a smirk as he finally looked up at Harley's face. He had an accent, which Tybalt would place from Ireland. "Really."
Predictably, Mik stepped to Harley's side, sliding his arm around Harley's waist and clearly meaning to impress the smaller man by his stature. "He's spoken for."
"Spoken for?" the man repeated with amusement. "Are old-fashioned phrases making a come-back here?"
"You remind me of my dad," his companion agreed, speaking up for the first time with a different accent. Somewhere in the north of England. "That's the kind of things he'd say."
Tybalt got his first good look at him. He was probably too easily overlooked, if he were always in the company of the Irishman, but he was worth the sight as well. Short fair hair, slightly taller than his companion, clear eyes whose colour Tybalt could not distinguish in the club's half-light – while the Irishman was magnetic, this one was... cute. The same kind of cute that Gio was.
The Irishman seemed to now be eyeing Mikhael up and down, and Tybalt quelled down an unexpected pang of jealousy. He was supposed to be long over Mik.
"I prefer another term myself," the guy was saying. "Taken. The image is much more suiting. And I wouldn't mind... taking... two taken fellows."
Tybalt raised his eyebrows, interested in seeing where this was going. Would the perfect couple be drawn in by the proposition? If they ever were to take part in a threesome, surely this would be it – well, given that Mikhael had said no to the possibility of a threesome with Tybalt, due to the tiny, irrelevant detail that he hated the redhead, the Irishman really was the next best thing. Without saying anything, the man was able to speak of a night filled with moans and whimpers, ragged breathing and more than a few cries.
"We'll go get drinks now," Mikhael said. "Thirsty." Was Tybalt imagining his voice to be slightly shaky? Hard to say, with the way they were this short of shouting to be heard over the music.
Mikhael started to steer Harley away, but his boyfriend stopped him and categorically told the amused-looking Irishman, "And it's not an invitation to follow." He paused, turned to Mikhael. "Right?"
A beat. "Right."
With that, Harley all but dragged his boyfriend away.
"Losing your touch?" the cute guy teased the Irishman, who was admiring Harley's ass as the couple walked away.
"You don't wanna insist if they don't want you to," Tybalt told him with a grin. "The short one packs a mean punch."
The Irishman raised amused eyebrows at him. "And you'd know about that?"
"Harley broke his nose," Gio explained.
"Twice," Tybalt added. And each time had been worth it.
The man pursed his lips in acknowledgement as he nodded. "Thanks for the warning. I'm Stuart." He nodded towards his friend. "He's Vince."
"Gio."
"Tybalt."
"You fellows from around here?"
Tybalt tuned out the answer Gio was giving Stuart, studying Vince instead. Sure, Stuart was something, but Tybalt himself knew all of his tricks, to have practiced them at one point or another. Vince was – fresher – than his friend. He was also following the exchange between him and Gio, completely oblivious to the way Tybalt was studying him.
That would not do.
Tybalt stepped closer to him, and immediately the clear eyes were redirected his way. Tybalt smirked, the very same smirk Stuart seemed to pull off just as easily. "I bet he usually gets all the attention," he said with a nod towards the Irishman.
"He does."
"So you're the sidekick?"
"You could say that."
Tybalt took another step closer to him, an invitation clearly dancing in his eyes, on his face, in his stance. "That seems unfair."
"Does it?"
"Oh, come on, Vince!" Stuart intervened with a grin. "He fancies you. Stop with the short answers and go shag him!"
It was hard to say with the lightning of the club, but Tybalt could have sworn Vince's cheeks actually flushed. "I can't shag him, I hardly know him!" Vince laid it so heavy on the sarcasm that it was obvious he was actually masking his lack of self-confidence.
"I think," Stuart grabbed Gio's hand with a smile at Tybalt, "that we ought to dance first, shag later. A little later."
Gio shot a helpless glance at Tybalt as Stuart pulled him onto the dance floor. Tybalt chuckled. Gio, dancing to this music? Priceless.
"So. Should we... should we go and dance?"
Tybalt looked back at Vince and smiled his charming smile, tilting his head to the side. "Sure, precious."
***
"All I'm saying is, you didn't look unaffected!" Harley pressed on, then stopped as Mik paid the bartender for the couple of drinks. He drank some of his tequila before speaking up. "You clearly like him. We said we'd give it a try once, if we had an occasion, that it'd be a great way to work on your jealousy issue. That here is an occasion. If you really want to. We don't have to, you know."
Mikhael was slumped over the counter, doing his best impression of Broody!Angel, though of course he'd probably get upset if Harley mentioned that. He looked up at his boyfriend then, anguish even more visible on his features. "Do you want to?"
Harley shrugged. "I wouldn't mind. But not if you don't want to."
"You'd want to." Mik looked back down at his glass, followed the rim with a finger. "I don't... you know, with my earlier... problem..."
Realisation dawned on Harley. "Oh. Sorry, I... Hey, you know what? Forget about the sex. Let's just cuddle."
He put words into action and settled himself nicely with his back to Mik, leaning against him and entwining their fingers together on his stomach.
"We're in a gay club, filled to the brim with testosterone, and we're cuddling. Our life is of the weird," he commented, then turned his head around to plant a kiss on Mik's lips. "And I like it that way."
Mikhael smiled faintly, so Harley snuggled deeper in his arms.
"Though of course, it wouldn't hurt if it was Op: Ivy playing."
He almost felt Mikhael grimace, and chuckled under his breath.
***
They had been dancing long enough, Tybalt decided after a few songs. He leaned towards Vince. "How about we go for a walk, sexy?"
Vince smiled, still a bit uneasily, but Tybalt was starting to understand that the uneasiness only rarely completely evaded him. "Sure. Have somewhere in mind?" Then, suddenly looking down and thrusting a hand in his pocket. "Oh, wait a minute." He pulled a beeper out, read it, then looked up at Tybalt with a grimace. "I have to call my mother back. Sorry." He turned and tapped Stuart on the shoulder. "I have to call Hazel. I'll see you."
And he was gone, with a last apologetic look.
Well, fuck this.
"Did I just get dumped because he had to go phone his mother?"
"That's Vince," Stuart philosophically answered. "His loss... now you'll have to make do with us."
"I suppose I'll have to," Tybalt agreed with the same amount of irony.
"And I thought I was special," Gio declared with a mock-affronted look at Stuart. "Guys like you make me want to stay home and play with my Spike and Willow dolls. They appreciate my exact worth."
Stuart looked at Gio for a few seconds, then turned to Tybalt. "Tell me that's a figure of speech."
"Nope. He even got them signed by the actors."
"Bloody hell, how old are you?" Stuart asked Gio with a laugh. "Never mind that. I say less talk, more action?"
Watching Stuart trying to get to the back of Gio's skull by way of his mouth was one of the most arousing things Tybalt had ever witnessed. If Gio's reaction was anything to go by, Stuart was as good a kisser as he looked. Then Stuart pulled back, grabbed Tybalt by the nape and pulled him in for him to experience it first hand. Tybalt liked to think he gave as good as he got, because Stuart did not seem unaffected as he broke it up. While he had already had a hard-on from Gio, the glaze in his eyes was courtesy of Tybalt.
"You got a place?" Tybalt heard himself ask.
"Motel, two minutes from here."
And off they were.
***
"See you tomorrow!"
Harley waved goodbye at Skids as his friend jogged up through the crowd to catch up with Tybalt and the Irishman from earlier. Looked like the guy would get his threesome after all. He leaned back against Mik and smiled contentedly. This here was worth all the threesomes in the world.
He frowned as he felt something harden against his ass. "Is that..."
"I think it is," Mikhael replied, excitement seeping through his voice. "Must be the thought that we're rid of Tybalt for the night."
He turned Harley around in his embrace and kissed him hungrily, as he did whenever they were apart for a few days, a kiss that left the younger man gasping for breath and dying for more.
"Let's not waste this. Let's do it here. Now."
"Here?" Harley repeated, heart thumping loudly against his ribcage. He wondered for a split second whether this was not another Mikhael from an alternate universe.
"Here. Home's too far."
"Good point. I spotted the backroom. Let's go."
He grabbed Mikhael's hand and pulled him along. When they hit a knot in the crowd that slowed them down, hands wandered to unholy places and made Harley wish that they could get to the backroom, now. They eventually did, a dark room smelling of sex and full of coupling couples.
A man patronizingly patted another on the arm as they walked out, crossing Mikhael and Harley. "How about touching both sides next time, Scooter?"
Mikhael and Harley exchanged a look and hurried further into the room. Mikhael backed Harley against the first free strip of wall they could find. They kissed bruisingly, letting their desire express itself fully after their earlier frustration.
"Mik, let me..." Harley gasped as Mik nibbled at the soft flesh of his neck. "Let me take you this time."
"Anything you want, lovely," Mikhael replied before they kissed again. "I just need you now... any way."
Harley was working on unfastening Mikhael's flannel pants when it hit him. Committed as they were, they had stopped using condoms long ago, but... "Mik... don't we need lube?"
Mikhael pulled back and looked at him dead seriously. "No. We don't need lube. I like to scream like a woman."
If he didn't have the most painful hard-on, Harley would have undoubtedly pointed out that the overuse of sarcasm should be made into a federal offence. As it was, he simply breathed out, "I'll go get some then."
"You do that," Mikhael agreed.
Harley kissed him again, one last time. Then he looked around and stated, for the sake of it, "Anyone tries to touch him while I'm gone, I'll dig out his prostate with a rusty butter knife." He pecked Mikhael on the lips and hurried off.
When he came back with a small pocket of lube gotten from the bar – they sure knew how to satisfy their patrons – he was glad to see he would not have to put his threat into execution. He'd left the butter knife at home.
Besides, this was much better than digging out someone's prostrate, messy business that it was.
"This is... so... unlike you," he managed between kisses.
"Special... circumstances," Mikhael answered.
Really, who was Harley to argue?
***
The dark room smelled of sweat and sex. Three moist bodies had carelessly fallen down on the bed, too tired out by their recent activities to be bothered to care about which limb was whose and other such inconsequential matters. The only noise that could be heard was their regular breathing.
Then a low moan, that gained in volume.
A breathless voice. "Again?"
Two answers. "Again."
***
"That being said, Nathan's doing all right. I reckon he thinks himself king of the world, that kid. Still asks after you two now and then. You ought to get Stuart to ring him up, you know."
"Mum, not tonight, I have a headache."
"You have a headache? What kind of a bloody woman's excuse is that? Are you a fag or a girl?"
"Mum..."
A sigh. "Yes. Oh, and Bernie says hi. Hopes you'll find yourself a celebrity to shag, now you're in Los Angeles."
"Right, I wouldn't count on it, we're leaving tomorrow. Besides, I'm not exactly likely to get shagged when you cut in right before I cop off."
"Vincent Taylor, don't tell me you called your old mother when you could have had a shag."
"You sent a 999!"
"No emergency is worth letting go of a shag, son. Doesn't Stuart teach you anything?"
"I thought it might be Alexander."
"Oh. Well don't worry about him. He's doing good. I'd know if he weren't." A beat. "What about that shag? Couldn't you go find him again?"
"Stuart's taking care of him as we speak. Can't you hear?"
Just then, a loud moan coming from the room next door.
An unamused chuckle. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"
***
Harley woke up to the delightful feeling of two sleek fingers scissoring him. The French windows of their room were open and he could feel a gentle sea breeze blowing in. He moaned and shifted, letting Mikhael know rather vocally he was awake.
"Good morning, lovely."
"Good - yes!" Harley agreed more enthusiastically than he had planned when something considerably longer and thicker came to replace the fingers.
Mikhael took his time, drawing in and out of him ever so slowly. Seagulls cried outside, the only sound beside the rolling waves that came to splash on the beach – it had to be high tide. Harley closed his eyes and focused on the sensations his lover was offering him. At first it was only Mikhael inside of him, but eventually a hand came to enclose him, too, and pumped him to completion so that they came together.
After Mikhael slid out of him, Harley turned around and kissed him softly. "I'm so glad I have you." He curled himself around his lover. "Snuggle time now."
Mikhael remained silent for a while, softly stroking Harley's back. "You know, our bed is really much better than a backroom in a club. I'm all for our bed."
Harley smirked up at him. "Or our kitchen table. Or our tub. Or our couch. Or our –"
Laughing, Mikhael interrupted him. "Yes. Anything in the house."
"And the porch. Don't forget the porch. Though it's better when you don't call your followers to watch, King of the Seashore."
"I told you, I didn't do it on purpose."
Harley chuckled and kissed Mikhael again.
***
"You two do this often?" Stuart asked offhandedly as he walked out of the bathroom, towelling his wet hair.
Tybalt slipped on his t-shirt with a ruthless smile. "Not nearly often enough."
"What about... Vince?" Gio asked uncertainly. "Are you guys...?"
Stuart raised his eyebrows at him. "What? Boyfriends? Hell no." He paused, frowning, as he crossed to the door. "Are you?"
Tybalt and Gio exchanged an undecided look before turning back to Stuart. "We're not really sure," Tybalt explained.
"But working on it," Gio added hopefully.
"Right." Stuart opened the door and waited for them to walk out. "Thanks for the night, boys. Bye."
The door closed on them. Gio and Tybalt exchanged an amused look and Tybalt stretched his arms, face turned up towards the sun. "That was a good night."
Gio took his hand in his as they walked away from the hotel. "It was." His thumb was stroking circles on the back of Tybalt's hand in the most distracting of ways.
"The lovebirds don't know what they missed."
They shared a look that said they had both painfully realised how many different layers you could see in that sentence. Gio stopped and pulled Tybalt forward, kissing him softly with his hands on his friend's hips. They rested their foreheads together and both smiled slightly.
"You still over Harley?"
"Completely," Gio answered. "You still over Mik?"
"Was there ever any doubt?"
They smiled again, kissed, then resumed walking.
"I like the Californian climate, in any case," Tybalt remarked after a few seconds' silence. "We should come disrupt Mik's life and visit Harley more often."
"You're only saying that 'cause you hope we'd get more nights like this."
Tybalt shot Gio an amused look, complete with his trademark smirk. "I can give you a night like this any night of the week, Gio."
"Is that a challenge?"
"Might be."
"You're on."
"Deal." A beat. "Do you have a clue in what direction their house is?"
***
Vince stood in the doorway with an amused smile, bag slung over his shoulder. "I could hardly sleep last night. Try and keep the volume down next time, will you?"
"It's not my fault they were so vocal about my performance." Stuart closed his bag and grabbed the room keys. "You could have joined us, you know. I doubt the kid would have protested, and the redhead would have welcomed you. They were both worth it."
They put the bags in the jeep and headed for the check-in to give the keys back and get their deposit.
Vince just smiled at his friend's teasing. "And give you the chance to shag me at last? In your dreams."
~~ the end ~~
Wouldn't mind getting a piece of our favourite bisexual semi-couple either? Let me know you loved them too. Reviews rock my world.
And again, if you wanna know everything about Mik and Harl's relationship up to now, what kind of evil landlady Tabitha was, how much of a psycho-stalker Tybalt used to be, what the hell is up with that cap of Gio's and how come he got his Buffy dolls signed, who Cyan was (Drummers do it with rhythm and chemists do it periodically on tables, baby!), or how I can call myself a Cy/Skids 'shipper and write this, go read Boy Meets Boy! There's plenty more where this comes from.
