Watford Tales

Fiona's Flat

Simon

I wake up on Fiona's crappy fold out couch to Baz kissing the back of my neck. Urgently, insistently. It feels good. It feels great. His lips are working my skin. His tongue is long, skinny like the rest of him and cool. He lets his teeth graze the skin on the back of my neck and then he starts taking these tiny bites that make me gasp a little. He never bites me, he's afraid to, but this right now seems to be going all right. And it feels incredible. His thigh is pressing into mine and I can't feel his cock but I know it's there. I sense it's presence, hard and urgent, just behind me and I want him closer. I want to feel him pressing into me. I put my hand behind me to pull him close but he growls at me and pulls back. His hands are moving down, pulling up my shirt and stroking my back and then lower, and he's squeezing my arse through my trousers, working his fingers into the crack, stroking the sensitive center, what suddenly feels like the center of everything. My cock is bulging against my flies and my pants feel tight and small. I hear Baz breathing hard behind me. Then he does push against me, his cock right up against the crack through all the layers of fabric. My insides are squirming already from what he's been doing with his fingers and I want him. All of him. Inside me. Then his mouth is on my ear, licking with his cool tongue. "Let's shag," he whispers.

I turn my head around and look at him and say. "Here?"

"I found some lube in Fiona's bathroom," he says and bends to kiss my mouth.

"Really?" I say.

"Mmm Hmm," he says, working his mouth into my neck and breathing in deeply, like he's smelling me.

I pull my head back and shift my hips so his weight is off me. "Baz," I say. "We're in your aunt's living room."

"She's asleep," he says. "She sleeps like the dead. She never wakes up before noon."

"What time is it?"

"About 11:30."

"Baz," I say again, pushing his head back and running my fingers through his hair, which is matted and sticky, not at all like it's usual slick slippery self. "No."

"No?" he says and there's a look on his face I've never seen before. Hurt.

"Not here," I say.

"I thought maybe you wanted to," he says. I swear he looks like a little kid who's just been told he can't go to the fair or something.

"I do want to," I say. His eyes are downcast. He looks so young and vulnerable.

"You do?" he says. "Really?"

"Yeah," I say. "I.......I want to Baz, all right?" I lift his head under the chin with a finger and kiss his temple. "Just.....Not here."

"Why not?" he says stubbornly. Petulantly. Like a little kid. I kind of can't believe he's being this dense.

"Why not? Because we're in Fiona's fucking living room! Which is enemy territory as far as I'm concerned. She hates me. And besides, we're both covered in vampire blood."

"We could take a shower," he says. "The bathroom door locks. I used to wank in there all the time."

"No," I say. "Just.....No, all right? Not here. I'm not comfortable here. I want to get out of here, to tell you the truth. And if we don't call Penny soon and let her know we're not dead she's.....it's going to be bad."

He gets out of bed and stands over by the window and looks down on the street. I can tell he's upset by the way his shoulders are hunched. I don't feel remotely sexy any more. "We almost died," he says to the window.

I get up and walk over to the window. I put my arms around him, look out on the grimy winter day. Piles of dirty snow are melting in the street, and the sky has that heavy leaden look. He feels good against me. Solid. Like something to hold on to. I kiss the back of his neck. "Later," I whisper. "Tonight if you like. I want to. Just.... Not here."