Aviation

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Alex felt happier than he had in a long time. It was like the universe had aligned and everything was as it should be. Him and Miles had a shower, which had resulted in him getting excited, and Miles giving him a hand-job. It was always like that. Miles had self-control, but Alex could never control himself around Miles. It had been like it since they were boys and made out for the first time in France. Alex had never had a problem with girls, and he would laugh at his mates who would confess they sometimes got so excited they came before they even got inside a girl. But as soon as he and Miles started having sex, he understood entirely.

After they showered, Alex wanted to go to bed. He didn't want to write songs, he wanted Miles to fuck him. But instead, Miles gave him a clean pair of boxers, made them some tea and resumed his spot at the dining table. They were trying to think of a way of starting the second verse, but nothing was coming to them. Well....nothing was coming to Miles. Alex didn't care. All he could do was look at Miles' long, elegant fingers and imagine them inside him.

Miles took a break and lit two fags.

"I went to Ibiza a couple of weeks ago," he said, passing Alex his cigarette. "Guess who I bumped into? Irene."

Alex wasn't sure who he was talking about. He knew a hundred and one Irenes back in Sheffield.

"Irene?"

Miles laughed and shot forward, sticking his face in Alex's.

"You're a fucking nightmare, Miles." His terrible Spanish accent made Alex remember...Irene Diaz, the girl who used to do Miles' publicity. She had a habit of talking to you like you couldn't hear her.

"Ha ha Irene!" Alex laughed. "What was she doing in Ibiza?"

Miles took a drag of his fag.

"Oh, she's promoting some club over there, now."

"I always thought she was on blow when I first met her," Alex said. "She had that habit of talking in your face like coke heads do when they think their conversation is so interesting."

Miles chuckled.

"We've all been like that."

"But Irene doesn't even do drugs, and her voice is so loud, you could hear her from the other side of the room....and don't get me started on that black slit in her eye. It was really off-putting."

"Yeah, what is that? Like a slice of pie on her iris."

"There is a word for it," Alex said. "Oh I wish I could remember."

"Don't stress yourself."

"Ummm, you know me, Mi, it's gonna bug me."

Miles ignored Alex and started strumming the chords leading into the second verse.

"Senorita, well you need not come, coke head close to me. Cos I can hear you perfectly clear, from here."

"I love it!" Alex clapped his hands. It was something he'd done since childhood, and he'd been teased about it by bigger lads, who'd call him a poof.

Miles turned to write the lyrics down on a bit of scrap paper that was on the table. Alex watched his body as he moved. The muscles in his sides flexing, the slight crunch of his abs. Alex felt himself starting to get hard again. One of his random thoughts came to him. If they were still together when they were middle aged, he would never need Viagra. He just had to look at Miles.....

He lost interest in song-writing. He wanted proper sex with Miles. He wanted to feel him on him and in him and to cuddle with him afterwards. Miles liked to play games. Alex knew he liked to feel as though he was being seduced. Their mind games were nearly as erotic as the act itself.