Better with Bacon

by Matthew Lang

  “I like interesting names,” George said with a shrug. “Want me to break?”

  “Sure,” David said. “I’m going to stand behind you and watch your ass while you do, though.”

  George winked. “One of the many benefits of pool.”

  David laughed. Sinking into the simple pleasures of flirting and banter was a joy that he most desperately needed. As red and yellow balls ricocheted across the green felt surface, he found himself chatting freely with George, who, as it turned out, worked in software development by day, coding something in both Linux and Windows for clients who needed… actually David wasn’t exactly sure, but it seemed to range from websites to advertising campaigns to apps for phones.

  “…all in all I don’t usually go into detail,” George said, standing up and resting the butt of his cue on the ground. “Most people don’t understand what I do.”

  “Me either,” David said. “Repackaging debt into financial products to onsell can be a tough one for non-finance nerds to wrap their heads around.”

  “I’m not sure I’m going to try,” George said. “So you’re new here, right? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

  “I’m from Melbourne,” David said. “Up for work.”

  “Just visiting, huh?”

  “Yeah, I used to do it a fair bit in my old job, not so much now, but I got an emergency call-up from the guy I used to work for, and, well, here I am.”

  “That’s very generous of you. I’m not sure I’d be that nice to my old boss.”

  David stared at the table, trying to work out where his best shot was. “Oh my boss was great,” he said, walking around to the short end near to where George was standing. “I just didn’t like the work. It kept being late nights and weekends to meet deadlines, and fitting in anything other than work was tough. I barely managed to get to the gym, and forget friends or dating.”

  “So why’d you come back to it?”

  David shrugged. “Needed a break.”

  “A break from the gym, friends, dating, and healthier eating?”

  David sighted down the cue at the white and red balls and took his shot, cursing when the red ball bounced off the corner bumpers near the far pocket and stopped just shy of the drop. “Pretty much.”

  “You trying to block off my options?”

  “Not really, I just happen to be doing that by missing shots.”

  “Ha! You’ve managed to tactically miss about three so far. What’s his name?”

  “Whose name?”

  George shot him a look. “I don’t know many people who jump at the chance to help out an old boss on a weekend unless there’s another person involved. Since you’re here, I’m guessing it’s a guy.”

  David chuckled. “I thought you were a programmer, not a psychologist.”

  “Armchair psychologist.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  As David lined up his next shot, he felt something push up against his ass. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw George standing right behind him. “Are you trying to distract me?”

  “Nope. I’m trying to get a feel of your ass,” George said, reaching out to grip David’s hip. “You have a great ass.”

  David grinned. “We can talk about that after I lose this game without your help, Mister.”

  George grinned and stepped back. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “I’m counting on it,” David said, and ran off three balls in quick succession before muddling the table again.

  “And you said you weren’t any good,” George said with a frown. “Do you just say that to throw people off the scent?”

  “Occasionally I get lucky.”

  “Do you now?”

  “Occasionally.”

  “How long are you here for?” George asked, seemingly unconcerned as one of his balls hit the wood around a corner pocket and bounced back onto the table.

  “Three, four days?” David said, leaning over to line up his next shot. “Depends on how long the work takes and whether they want me to stay for the pitch.”

  “Pitch? Or catch?”

  David looked over his shoulder into George’s eyes, which were full of lust and mischief. “Hello, Mr Innuendo.”

  George wrapped his arms around David’s chest, and David felt the stiffness of George’s erection press up against his ass. “I prefer Mr Inyourendo, if it’s all the same to you.”

  Chapter 7

  THE HOTEL door slammed behind him as David hustled them into his room, and they all but fell onto the bed, George’s stubble excitingly rough against his cheek. David found himself on his back with George straddling his hips, hands cupping his face and lips pressed up against his as a curtain of dark hair fell around them. His shorts were constricting and cramp inducing as his erection strained against the red denim, and he could feel an answering stiffness pressing into his belly. His own hands pulled at George’s T-shirt, tugging it up over his head and causing his hair to rain down over them again.

  George smiled and tilted his head, his hair dropping over his shoulder away from David’s face, and then they were kissing again, George’s tongue an insistent presence in David’s mouth. George slipped one hand into the side of David’s top, flicking over his left nipple, eliciting a groan from David’s throat.

  “Like that, huh?” George pushed the thin material to one side and grasped the nub of David’s nipple between strong teeth, pressing them together firmly as George’s tongue swiped roughly across the tip with more speed than David had thought possible. Unintelligible sounds rippled from his throat as he arched into the other man’s touch. His hands found George’s shoulders, half pushing him away and half pulling him closer as the clipped hair on the man’s chest bristled maddeningly against the skin exposed in the gap between singlets and shorts. Then the skilful tongue licked its way up his throat, and David felt teeth on the soft flesh joining his neck and skull.

  “Hey, no marks,” David said.

  George pulled back slightly, although his hands still rubbed gently across David’s chest. “Really? Who are you worried will see them?”

  David grinned. “I just don’t like it when it stings in the shower for days after.”

  “So… marks are okay, just no broken skin?”

  “You’re that good?”

  George kissed his way up the column of David’s throat until his teeth were lightly gripping David’s chin. His large hands wormed their way to the bed beneath David’s shoulders, and one by one his legs slipped from the outside to the inside of David’s. His crotch ground down, sliding over David’s bulge to the spot between his legs where he was too rarely touched. Then George moved, the muscles in his forearms and chest pressing sinuously up against David, and David instinctively wrapped his legs around George’s waist, feet slipping along the roughness of denim to grip the back of his thighs.

  “Top?” David’s voice was dry, crackly, and barely audible. He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Top?”

  “Mostly.” George’s teeth left his chin and wet lips kissed their way up his jaw. “I’m… tight. You?”

  “Versatile.”

  “Nice.” George’s skin was warm against the palms of his hands as he ran them along the man’s spine, sliding down into the back of George’s jeans, encountering a thick band of elastic and smooth cloth. Rolling over on the king-sized bed, George pulled David over on top of him and then tugged at his top. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

  “I’m barely wearing anything.”

  George’s eyes were dark and filled with desire. “I know.”

  David laughed and pulled the top over his head and threw it off over the side of the bed as George’s hands explored his chest and trailed down across his abs, coming to rest on the waistband of his shorts, where they popped the button and slowly tugged the zipper down tooth by tooth. Freed from its prison, David’s erection pushed outwards in its thin cloth cover, and George ran his fingertips gently over his girth. “Nice cock.”

  “T
hanks.”

  With hands on his ass urging him upward, David scooted forward, and was treated to the sight of George leaning forward and taking his still-encased cock into his mouth, the pale blue fabric soon darkening from saliva on top of the precum oozing out of his cockhead. David groaned and thrust involuntarily into George’s mouth, and then fingers were tugging the elastic of his thong down over his cock and lifting his testicles out of their clinging fabric. Then there was nothing between the nerves of his cock and the warm wetness of George’s mouth, who stared up at him as he swallowed David down, closing his eyes only briefly as he moaned around the penis that threatened to press past his tonsils as David bucked. A slight stream of liquid oozed out of the corner of George’s left eye as the head of David’s cock pushed down into his throat, and David’s hands went to the padded headboard as he started to pull out of the man’s mouth.

  “You don’t have to,” David said.

  George grinned, one hand coming up to wipe his eyes. “I know, but I want to.”

  Slipping off George’s chest, David carefully lifted his knees off George’s hair. Getting his feet back on the floor, he toed off his sneakers before pushing his shorts and candy-blue thong off completely and climbing back between George’s legs. Bringing his nose to the point where George’s waistband sat on his belly, he inhaled George’s maleness, running two fingers down the treasure trail that led from the man’s belly button to the waistband of his jeans. Tugging George forward, the musky odour he’d already been smelling intensified, and the clean warmth of fresh sweat added its intoxicating bouquet to the scent that went straight to his penis. He stiffened and felt a string of sticky liquid drip from his tip and travel down his leg. David reached into George’s jeans with his other hand and pulled out a slender cock that protruded some two inches above the waistband, pink head gleaming and smooth. Growling, he popped the button and wrenched the zipper down, then yanked both the man’s jeans and trunks down with two quick tugs.

  “Fuck,” he swore as the thick fabric tangled around George’s sneakers, and the man dissolved into what David could only describe as giggles.

  “Sorry,” George said. “You were just so focused on getting me naked and then… and then….”

  David laughed in reply and worried the laces of George’s shoes until they popped off and he was able to get the jeans, trunks, and finally, George’s socks off his feet. Then he crawled and wrapped his arms around George’s chest, grinning like a fool as they held each other for a moment, eventually settling into a comfortable position with George on his back and David curled up with his head on his chest, right hand absently caressing George’s belly.

  “You know if you keep that up, I’m going to get hard again,” George said.

  David slipped his fingers lower until they encountered the top of George’s pubic bush. “Mmm.”

  George laughed. “Do you have condoms?”

  “Never travel without them,” David said with a grin, pointing to the small travel bag on the bedside table.

  “Nice,” George said, giving David a kiss on the forehead. “’Cause I really want to fuck you.”

  “Lube, please,” David said with a chuckle. “It’s been a while.”

  George kissed him properly. “Trust me, I know how to do this right.”

  And he did. Lube-slick fingers brushed over David’s opening before slowly teasing their way inside. George’s lips, tongue, and teeth were everywhere, lightly grazing his balls, laving his cock with spit, and pausing to lick up the precum that was pooling on his abs and in his belly button before drifting back up to worry his nipples as one finger slipped up to the knuckle inside him. George’s hair whispered gently over his skin as their lips came together, and George’s finger slowly moved in small circles, fingertip pressing up against the hard spot inside him that made him drool even more cock snot that he tasted on George’s tongue before long. The touches were gentle, tender, and confident, and soon he found himself open and panting.

  “George, please—” he gasped.

  Seconds later, George slipped effortlessly into him, and David felt himself opening around the man’s penis without complaint. Indeed, there was only a comfortable fullness, and an aching throb as George’s hips moved slowly, pressing forward until George was buried to the hilt inside him. Leaning forward, he kissed David in earnest, and David wrapped his arms around George’s torso, fingers digging into the man’s shoulders as the pace of George’s hips increased and the only sounds in the room were the slap of flesh on flesh, the squelch of lube, and the slight complaining of bedsprings. David felt the tingling start in his toes and creep up his legs. He felt it in his fingers. Then it crept out from the core of his being, his balls pulled up into his body, and he cried out as the waves of orgasm crashed over him, his cum coating the fur on George’s chest and belly. Above and around him, George’s muscles tensed, and he buried his face in David’s neck as he came.

  They lay still for a while, holding each other as they came down from their orgasmic high, until George softened and slipped out of David’s ass. Rolling to one side, George used his left hand to pull his hair clear from their bodies.

  “So his name’s ‘Patrick,’ then,” George said as he snuggled back up to David, one hand resting on David’s chest, sticky with cum, lube, and sweat.

  “How’d you….” David tried to think back through the last few minutes, hazy as they were. “Did I…? I didn’t really… no… I did?”

  He felt George’s smile against his chest. “You did.”

  “Shit, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” George said. “I’m a good rebound.”

  “It still feels… impolite.”

  George patted his chest. “It’s okay. I knew what I was getting into. Besides, you’re here for four days, right?”

  “About that, yes.”

  “So this isn’t me asking for your hand in marriage, yeah? It’s just sex.”

  “I don’t know,” David said. “Just sex doesn’t typically include cuddles afterward.”

  George chuckled. “It does with me. Just because I don’t expect to end up in a long-term relationship with you doesn’t mean we can’t snuggle.”

  David kissed him. “You’re a wonderful man, you know that?”

  “Some people have said that in the past,” he said, closing his eyes with a sigh. “We’ll see if one of them sticks around one day.”

  “So how come you don’t have a boyfriend?” David asked.

  “Broke up two months ago. I’ve sort of been haunting Stonewall ever since.”

  “Huh?”

  “Moving out in a few weeks,” George said. “I’m in the spare room, but I’m avoiding going home right now.”

  “Mind if I ask what happened?”

  “I wasn’t in love with him anymore. I’m not sure I ever was.”

  “That’s… unfortunate.”

  “Six years. It was okay, I guess. I just…. He was controlling, a bit emotionally manipulative, and didn’t like me having any friends.”

  “That’s your idea of okay?”

  “Well, I’ve been with him since I was nineteen, so….”

  David chuckled and gave George a kiss. “Happy rebound to you too. Shower?”

  “Yeah, I’m almost certain I have cum in my hair.”

  “How long is it going to take to dry?”

  “Far too long,” George said with a laugh. “If you don’t mind me borrowing your hair dryer, I’ll be fine.”

  “Knock yourself out. Does it get annoying to sleep with?”

  “I braid it or put it in a ponytail.” George sat up, pulling a few errant strands of damp hair away from David’s skin.

  “Need some help with that?” David asked, a hand resting on George’s back.

  George looked down at him with a smile. “Are you inviting me to stay the night?”

  “Company’s paying for breakfast,” David said with a shrug. “And your clothes aren’t exactly going to advertise a walk of sha
me.”

  “Okay. What are you doing tomorrow?”

  David pulled a face. “Working.”

  “On Sunday?”

  “That’s the idea of me being here. Emergency last-minute presentation and all that.”

  “Right, right,” George said, rising to his feet. “Coming? I’m sure that shower’s big enough for two.”

  They spent the night tangled in each other’s arms and woke in the morning sandy-eyed but content. After a leisurely breakfast, during which David’s phone pinged with several messages, they parted with a lingering kiss in front of the hotel, and George tucked a card into David’s pocket.

  “My number,” he said. “If you want to do something, even with clothes on, let me know.”

  David smiled. “I might take you up on that.”

  Chapter 8

  DAVID’S STAY in Sydney passed quickly, and he ended up finding the time to visit Bondi and laze on the sand, wander through Newtown for ribs and gelato, and lie on the grass in the botanical gardens, smelling salt from the sea breeze blowing past his face as he and George spent time just being. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t purely sexual. There was a connection between them, a shared sense of sorrow that they never spoke of, but felt keenly, nevertheless.

  Work remained a distraction, and David did end up staying for the final pitch but found his mind wandering back down to Melbourne as Amrit and the client conversed quietly. What would they name the baby? Would it be a boy or a girl? Would there be gender-neutral parenting? Where would they live? What school would they send it to? How would they save for university? Absently he scribbled “family trust” in the corner of his notebook and then stared at the neat block capitals in black biro that adorned the off-white paper. He wondered if they’d get married, what the ceremony would be like. Patrick wasn’t really religious, but Li Ling’s family were Episcopalian. At least, David thought they were Episcopalian. Thinking of Patrick and Li Ling in the collective “they” was a familiar thought pattern he could fall into without a feeling of loss crushing into his chest. He could be what he always had been—a supportive friend for his two best friends, who were… having a kid together. He was going to be an uncle.