Drummers Do It With Rhythm

"Ruuuuuussy! Russel! Wake up!"

Russ pulled the pillow over his head. Something was tapping erratically at the window, and a loud, obnoxious voice outside was making bedroom lights flicker on up and down the street. He grumbled and rolled out of bed to go look.

Del was on the sidewalk, stumbling drunkenly back and forth and throwing pebbles at the window.

Russ ducked as one flew at his head. "Del! Shut up! You're gonna wake the neighbors!"

"Heya, Russ!" Del shouted back. "Can I come in? The old man kicked me out when I came home and I—"

"Okay, okay, I'll be down in a sec. Sheesh."

When he opened the door, Del fell forward against him. He turned his head up to face Russ and smiled, breathing hot vodka breath on him. "Thanksh, man. You're a great guy, y'know that?"

Russ grudgingly smiled back. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You gonna let me sleep here tonight, thassh what you gonna do." Using his arms to steady himself against his friend, Del accidentally draped his hand over the swell in Russ' boxers.

"Whatever. You practically live here anyway." Russ pried Del's arms away, his heart hammering. "I'll....uh...get some blankets for the couch...."

Del shook his head violently, which knocked him off balance and sent him sprawling to the floor. "Oh, no way I'm sleeping on that thing again," he muttered as Russ helped him back up. "Damn fucking lumpy piece of shit...."

"Well where else you gonna sleep? In the bathtub?"

"You got a bed, dontcha?"

The sudden image of Del, eyes hooded, and half-naked in his bed flashed through Russ' mind. He gulped. "Yeah, right. I am not waking up to some angry brother with a hangover who can't remember what he's doing in my bed."

"Fuck, man, be a pal!" he whined.

"No way. You're stayin' on the couch, so suck it up."

"What, you afraid of my ass?" he said with a sneer. "What you think's gonna happen, huh?"

Russ blinked in surprise. "Uh—nothing. Nothing! I just—"

"Then let me sleep in your fucking bed."

He sighed. There was no sense in arguing. He helped Del stagger to his room, dumped him on the bed, and went to get him a glass of water. "Come on, drink this. It'll help you sober up."

Del drank it noisily and let the cup roll off the mattress. "You got a nice bed," he
muttered, pushing his face into the pillow and smiling. Drops of water rolled over his full lips. "Big
an' soft...."

"Uh, yeah, sure." Russ climbed in beside him, and carefully reached out to wipe the moisture off his mouth. The lips moved ever so slightly under his fingers.

Del tugged his shirt off awkwardly and started to fumble with his pants. When he finally shimmied out of those, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear, and for a split second Russ thought his heart had stopped beating.

"Del! What the hell are you doing?"

"I sleep in the buff. What's it to you?" The boxers eased down his legs.

"C'mon, man! I don't wanna see that!"

"So pull the blankets up if you're so fuckin' paranoid." He stretched back on the bed with the sheets tangled around his knees. Russ shook himself and quickly pulled the blankets up to his armpits.

Del closed his eyes, and for a minute Russ thought he was asleep. He looked so beautiful, with his thick braids spilled over the pillow and brown skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat. Then his eyelids fluttered, and Del giggled. "I got a secret."

"Yeah? You gonna tell me?"

"Naw. Not now. I'm too drunk." He giggled again, put his head on Russ' shoulder, and let an arm flop over his chest. "But I'll tell ya before I die."

Russ closed his eyes against the feeling of Del's breath on his skin, his hand tracing
lazy circles on his arm. How many times had he seen Del and whatever girl he was banging laying like this? Russ swallowed. He was glad that the darkness of the room helped to conceal the evidence of his emotions rising between his legs.

"Well, that's not gonna be anytime soon, is it?"

Del was already asleep, drooling a little. Russ sighed and turned the light off.