Bags not... Rick!

On the way out into the vestibule Rick meets Neil, who is jumping with happiness over the washing machine in the basement. No more walks to the laundrette. Ever. Neil is also pretty much naked, because he has just thrown everything on his body into the machine.

“There’s room in there, Rick, you can put your clothes in there too!”

Rick can’t even protest. He is still too confused from the shag he just promised Vyvyan. He doesn’t even have vaseline, for Cliff’s sake. He hands his clothes to Neil, who happily carries them away. Dressed only in a dishwashing towel he found in the kitchen, he absent-mindedly slouches through the house in search of a pot of vaseline, and his heart is beating loud and fast.

In the broom cabinet, among the spare bottles of dishwashing liquid and hand cream jars, he finds some, and makes it to his room without being seen. When he comes to the bathroom, it’s empty. Vyvyan has probably locked up in his new room (the guest room; Neil has to sleep on the couch for the time being) and is doing his hair meticulously.

Rick is floating in a strange haze all the way through his bath, accompanied by an almost permanent erection. He doesn’t know why this promised fuck makes him so confused, it just does.

When he has scrubbed himself pink, little bits of dirt are floating on the water surface. He pokes them around, then climbs out of the water and checks his face in the mirror.

Not so bad. Skinnier than usual, with a certain interesting sadness around the eyes, but otherwisely healthy from so much fresh air.

He taps out into the vestibule again, dressed in his towel, and back into his room, to get dressed. There are still some slacks and shirts in the drawer, he notices…

“Took you some time, too.”

“Argh!” Rick nearly pisses his pants with the shock. He didn’t see Vyvyan when he came in.

Vyvyan is lying on Rick’s bed, in what he probably thinks is a seductive pose, and also in his trusty boots, and nothing else.

“Just one word of advice”, says Rick venomously, his heart still beating fast, “that pose would work better if you pushed out your CHEST and drew in your BELLY.”

There’s a bit of silence.

“Neil stole my clothes while I was in the bath, the bastard”, explains Vyvyan, and there’s an awkward silence again. Clearly, action needs to be taken, and a sexual mood must be induced. “Well… uhm, come on and get it like a bitch funk sex machine!”

Rick folds his arms disdainfully at Vyvyan’s shaky attempt to porn talk. “That was not very convincing.”

Vyv gets up. “Oh no? Okay, I know how to do convincing.”

“No! Wai…. Mmmmmbglh!” Not another one of those tongue-ring kisses. Rick’s head is squeezed between Vyv’s, and the wall. It doesn’t help that there’s only a towel to protect him. Up close and determined to dispose of protein, Vyvyan has the passion and oppressive power of a steamroller.

Rick struggles for breath, flailing his arms, and instinctively grabs Vyvyan’s balls, which are easy to reach now.

“Nrgh!” Vyvyan goes rigid (not in the good way) and flops his tongue out of Rick’s mouth. “Argh! Let go!”

“Now listen”, says Rick, their noses almost touching. “I don’t want any broken bones from your passionate lovemaking, or I’m going to give you trouble. Trouble, do you get that?”

“What, you’re gonna hold on to them until after we’re done?” Vyvyan, recovering remarkably quickly, thinks about it and frowns.

“No, you stupid git, I’m just… ah, what the hell.” Rick puts his hands on Vyvyan’s chest and shoves him backwards in what he hopes is a passionate movement.

“Oi!” Vyv shoves him back, but hard enough to push Rick into the wall again. “What’d you push me for?!”

“I’m not pushing you”, explains Rick between his teeth, and rubs his bruised arm. “I’m trying to make you go to the bed.”

“What for?”

“To make you lie down!”

“You want me to lie down… on the bed?”

“Yes, you monkey-head!”

“Well, why don’t you just say so?”

Rick exhales and roll his eyes. “You really have no clue of seduction, do you?” He feels stupid, but he won’t admit it.

“No. ‘cause, if you say, lie down on the bed, I know you want me to lie down on the bed, but if you push me, I think you want a fight.” Vyvyan sits, knees together, and looks up at Rick expectantly.

“That’s not lying down.”

Vyv worms up on the bed backwards, and finally lies on his back, knees still together. “Now what?”

“I… uh.” Oh yes, seduction is not so easy, coming to think about it. “I’ve got vaseline.” Rick holds up the jar.

There’s a long silence.

“We could kiss first”, says Vyvyan thoughtfully.

“I suppose we could.” Rick tries a nervous laugh. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what to do? What to say, before Vyvyan gets pissed off and leaves, and this one chance to do it to him is gone?

Well, Rick will have to move toward the bed, that much is for sure.

He sits down by the bedside. His hip is touching Vyv’s, but only through the towel. He feels Vyv’s leering eyes on himself, on his exposed nipples and his arms, and on the towel. The tip of Vyvyan’s tongue is poking out, moistening his upper lip, but he’s probably not even aware of it.

Rick, meanwhile, is looking down on the glorious results of too much beer. “Any position you fancy?” he asks lightly.

“Riding sounds nice”, says Vyvyan carefully. Careful speaking, in Vyv’s case, usually means that he has no clue what the words mean. “Mike wrote something like that in his book”, he adds thoughtfully. “A bird pushing him down on a bed and then riding him. Mind you, I don’t know if she used a harness, or even put a bit in his mouth.”

Mike. This is the one name Rick didn’t want to hear now. “Oh really.”

“I suppose I could have asked Michael, but I didn’t want to look stupid to him, you know.”

Rick suddenly feels very ugly. Very skinny, very unglamorous, and very superfluous. The venom is coming up again. “Mike”, he hisses, “is just making it all up. Wake up! He’s a filthy liar, and what’s more, he’s a virgin! He doesn’t know what he’s writing about! Wakey wakey, Vyvyan!”

You can almost see the big yellow lightbulb light up over Vyvyan’s head.

“Ahargh!” he grins. “You”, he pokes Rick in the belly, “are jealous of Michael!”

“I’m ruddy well not, and you know it!” Rick is seething.

“Yes you are!” Vyv has the cheek to laugh about it, too!

“Well then, why don’t you go to bed with him? Miiiiichaeeeeel! Do you call me Richard, huh? Michael, the sound of it makes me sick! What are you, his puppy?”

And Vyv is still grinning. “Rick is jealous! Haha!”

“Why don’t you go to bed with him, huh? Go, fuck off, I’m not holding you back!” Rick’s hands are balled into fists.

“Because I don’t fancy Mike, and Mike doesn’t fancy guys anyway.” Vyv is sounding annoyed. Good. That’s what Rick wanted.

“Too bad, isn’t it? Maybe if you put on a dress, he fucks you.”

Vyvyan hasn’t ventured to move his back away from the mattress, but his hands catch Rick’s flailing arms. “Shut up”, he says. “Mike is a cool guy. Mike’s clever. He’s my friend. And don’t say anything against him unless you want a baseball bat up your back passage.” He lets go of Rick’s hands.

Rick swallows and rubs his aching wrists. “I see. And I’m not cool”, he says angrily, just because he can’t think of anything better right now.

Vyvyan folds his hands on his belly. His blue eyes stare holes into Rick’s. “You’re twisted. See, Mike only wants to eat, sleep and chase the birds. You, you want something more. You think about things. Like… capitalism, and society.” He pokes Rick in the chest again. “You’re angry. And you write poems about it. You’re a lot deeper than Mike.” He frowns. “Well, you’re also a pretentious fart, but Mike isn’t even that.”

Rick feels a blush rise in his face. Twisted. Angry. Deep. Oh yes. Finally, finally someone has recognized Rick the People’s Poet for what he is. His true self. Who would have thought it would be Vyvyan, of all people?

Rick leans forward, his head spinning, and presses his lips on Vyv’s. Of course, he is inevitably grabbed around the back of his head and pulled into a nose-ring kiss again, and has a tongue forced between his tonsils, but that’s just Vyv’s way of showing affection.

He doesn’t taste so bad. A little like beer.

Rick is running his hand down Vyvyan’s side. Over his hips, over his thigh… Rick’s arm brushes his erection, and Vyvyan makes a low sound and bucks his hips.

That was a good sound. Rick could feel it between his legs. But he’ll be damned if he makes it so easy for the bastard.

Vyvyan has meanwhile fumbled the towel away. His hand wraps around Rick’s cock and begins to stroke lazily. This is nice. This isn’t rough at all. Rick presses his chest against Vyv’s and bites his lip.

When Vyvyan tries to shove Rick’s hand down on his crotch, he stiffens at first, but then breathes out and lets him do it. His cock doesn’t feel so bad. Warm, and firm, with soft skin. Compared to back then, it feels pretty harmless now.

Vyv’s arm has come around Rick’s hip, and his eyes are half-closed. He has a look not even the most dangerous explosive can paint on his face. “This is good. Yeah, that’s nice”, he croaks. Red spots are appearing on his pale face.

Rick hates himself for the hot feeling that’s unfolding in his belly right now. He’s holding Vyv’s cock in his hand, right? He’s got the power, right? Then why does he feel like it’s so bloody important to do what Vyvyan likes?

“Turn on your belly”, he says, in an angry voice.

“Mh!” goes Vyvyan, even happier. “Are we doing it now?”

“Yeah”, says Rick, loudly, in order to drown out the rush of blood in his ears.

It’s not like his dream. Not at all. Of course not. Vyv is a guy who once ripped off his own head. A little arse burn doesn’t turn him into a surrendering blob of jelly.

It does affect him, though. He rubs the side of his face over the mattress, a bit of the cover between his teeth, and makes angry little “uhn” noises every time Rick shoves forward.

Penetration faces Rick with new questions. How quickly do you normally thrust? How hard? And how the hell are you supposed to get a rhythm when you have to jerk the other guy off at the same time? And what the hell do you say during the act? Do you speak? Do you shut up? Do you have to call them something during orgasm?

Vyvyan gasps and adjusts his position a little.

“Err… er… are you alright?”

“Sure, yeah!”

Rick has never really been faced with someone else’s arse. Now he’s facing one while he’s fucking the owner. This is kind of embarrassing. He wishes he could communicate with Vyv’s face, but that is half-buried in the pillow. Anyway, he seems to have better things to do than communicate.

“Are you sure that your hamster isn’t watching us?” Rick asks, just to have something to say.

“He’s down in the kitchen. Playing with the cables under the sink.”

“Ah.” Now this is the end of it, Rick just knows it. When you start talking about this kind of thing during sex, there’s something going really wrong. That’s not how it should be, is it? He clears his throat.

Vyv opens one eye. “Why’d you stop?”

“Listen, I’ve thought about it, and this is… this is silly. I mean, I mean… look, this isn’t how it should be, right?”

“Rick?”

“Yes?”

Vyvyan’s back is heaving. He swallows before he can speak. “If you stop now, I’m gonna kill you, and I mean it. I said I want you to fuck me, and I do, so get going, will you?!”

“It’s all going wrong! We just started talking about your sodding hamster, for Cliff’s sake!”

Vyvyan starts to shout. “Well I’m sorry if it’s crap for you, but I like it and I want to get off, so fucking nail me, I’m exploding here!”

This sounds good. The words go right down to Rick’s crotch and leave a hot trail in his belly. Rick leans forward and puts his chin on Vyv’s shoulder. “I just hope I won’t accidentally break your back, that’s all”, he says and thrusts forward again.

“Oh! That’s better.”

Rick closes his eyes. He’s trying not to think about what he’s doing here – fucking Vyvyan, which is embarrassing – but about how tight and hot and nice it feels. It’s hard to concentrate when you have to jerk and thrust and not come at the same time.

“Uh… you better hurry up, Rick, because…” Vyvyan’s back arches, and he tries to catch his breath, “because otherwise, I’m gonna beat you!”

“What? Are you… are you – wait for me, you selfish dirtbag!” Rick thrusts faster. Damn! How’s he supposed to finish at the same time when…

“Oh-UH!” Vyvyan’s body stiffens, his upper body bucks up, strong enough to make Rick slip out if he hadn’t been holding on to Vyv’s hips- and then he gasps like he’s going to cry, and lies still on the bed.

“First”, he says smugly.

Rick can’t answer. He’s too busy giving it to the bastard. Who knows what’s going to happen when they leave this room. What he knows is, here and now, he’s the one breaking Vyv’s cherry, and that first time he was also Vyv’s first fuck. And no matter where he goes and who he does it with, he’ll always know that it was Rick who broke him in, nailed him and marked him and shot his spunk into him just like THIS, and nobody can take that away from Rick.

Vyv’s hand comes over Rick’s on his hip and squeezes it, like a thank-you. This is when Rick feels the wave rise. He’s riding higher and higher, and praying that it’s going to work, praying in general to anybody who will listen, with his breath held tightly in his lungs, and then he falls and gasps and the air is streaming in. He’s sinking on Vyv’s back, smelling his skin, feeling his sweat on his cheek, and finally moans under his breath with relief.

“That wasn’t all bad”, says Vyvyan thoughtfully. “You came last, by the way.”

“That’s not what it’s about, Vyvyan”, says Rick sarcastically and pulls out. Ew, sticky.

Vyvyan falls over and rolls onto his back. Sticks his arm out of bed, finds a cigarette in his pocket and lights it.

“What, you don’t offer me one?”

“Oh, you want one. I didn’t think you’d want one, after last time you tried one. How long did you throw up? Three hours, wasn’t it?”

“Never mind. Cigarettes are an evil of fascist exploitation anyway. Probably orphaned black children on plantations who pluck the tobacco.” Rick turns on his back too.

They’re both facing the ceiling. After a while, Rick feels Vyvyan’s little finger creep up against his own. Rick holds his breath to see what happens.

The finger comes to lie on top of Rick’s little finger. They’re almost intertwined. A strange warmth runs from his hand to his chest. When he looks up, he sees Vyvyan staring at him, face relaxed, and eyes a little sad.

“What?” he asks. He knows what is up, of course, but he’ll be damned if he lets Vyv be so silly and sentimental.

“You know, sometimes I don’t hate you ALL that much”, says Vyv. “Although don’t start thinking I’m getting poofy here or anything. I like to hate you.”

Rick’s heart is throbbing loudly. “Yes”, he says and desperately tries to crack a smile. “I… this is… yes, having someone to hate is so good for you, isn’t it.”

“I don’t think I hate anyone like I hate you”, says Vyv. His eyes are big and blue and sad.

“Well, then”, says Rick, hardly knowing what to say for the rush of blood in his ears, “I’ll just try to hate you as much as I can, shall I.”

Vyvyan smiles a gummy smile.

When they come downstairs, Neil is cowering on the sofa, rocking slowly back and forth, a bobble hat pulled into his face as far as possible. Mike is sitting beside him, reading a newspaper.

Neil slowly turns to the two. “I heard what you did there”, he says, deep disgust in his voice. “I heard what you were shouting.”

“Soooo? Got a problem with it, fascist?!” (Attack is probably the best defence here.)

“There’s nothing you can do to me any more”, says Neil glumly and rocks back and forth. “I wish I was deaf. I’ve heard the sounds of ultimate horror. I can never unhear them. Heavyyyy.”

“Rick, be so kind and tell Neil what you guys did up there”, says Mike without taking his eyes off the paper. “For some reason he thinks you were buggering each other.”

“Yes! Right! That’s what we did!” declares Vyvyan happily. “So what, hippie?”

“Stop messing around, you’re driving the poor guy insane”, instructs Mike.

Vyvyan stands in front of Mike, leans forward, until his face is almost level with Mike’s, and says: “Mike. Rick and me were doing poofy things up in his bedroom, what don’t you get about that?”

Mike looks up. “I beg your pardon?”

“They did it”, says Neil. “All is lost. Oh, heavy…” He pulls the bobble hat deeper over his eyes.

“You two did it together?” says Mike, suddenly interested. “So that was the mysterious bird you wanted advice for, Rick? Wow. That’s some bird.”

Vyvyan looks around, scanning the room for anything avian.

Mike thinks about this for a bit and then asks: “Doing it together is an option too, of course… are you guys free any time soon?”

“No way. He’s mine”, says Vyv and hooks his arm around Rick’s neck.

“Pity.” Mike goes back to his newspaper.

“You don’t seem surprised”, says Rick coldly. He had expected some kind of resistance or fascist homophobic action to fight.

“More birds for me, that’s all I can say”, says Mike.

“What has been heard can not be unheard”, clamours Neil. “Oh, heavy…”

“Bah, he’s gonna get over it”, says Rick, and tries to turn away, forgetting that Vyvyan is still holding him by the neck lovingly. For a moment, his legs kick and try to give in, but then Vyvyan’s grip forces him to stay upright.

Rickets, who has sat on the TV set and warmed his behind on the air vent, takes the opportunity to speak. “I… have a confession to make. I’m not into hamsters. I’m much more into mice.”

But nobody pays attention to him.

“It’s a sign”, whines Neil. “A sign of the end of the Western civilization. Doom and havoc! Blood will rain from the sky, the rivers will be full of frogs, the air will be filled with insects, and Rick and Vyv are going to do it! The world will end in an explosion of… heavy things!”

“Shut up, you stupid hippie”, shouts Rick. “Look, the sun is shining, no blood rain, no insects, and everything is fine!”

This is when the world ends in a explosion of heavy things. Curiously, they all turn out to be shot put balls.

The End.