Not So Secret
Part Three (Tentatively subtitled
Standard Disclaimer applies…I don’t own and I make no money.
From Stomach to Heart (Not so Secret Part Three)
Wednesday stood at the kitchen’s counter making himself a neat little sandwich when Joey entered in a huff.
“How do you know that Eric and Ghoul are ‘together’?” Joey crossed his arms and glared at Wednesday’s back as he paused, impatient for a reply. Slicing the crust from the somewhat stale white bread, the vocalist pointedly ignored the question. Raising the turkey and tomato sandwich to his lips, he ripped off a bite and turned to face the seething, suspicious guitarist.
“I just do.” He took another bite and Joey eyed him warily.
“That good?” Wednesday nodded and held out the sandwich. Joey took it and sampled a bite.
“It’s good.” He passed it back to Wednesday who stuffed the remains into his mouth. Joey shuffled to the mini-fridge and selected a beer, popped the cap and together Joey and Wednesday downed the alcohol.
“So, answer my question.” Joey and Wednesday stood opposite of each other, both leaning comfortably against the parallel countertops.
“I already did.” Wednesday grinned at him.
“Fucker, elaborate.” The guitarist crossed his arms, chilled now as he was without a shirt due to their earlier lusty escapade.
“Alright.” Wednesday nodded slowly. “Imagine being drunker than fuck, ready to puke, and then imagine stumbling into the onboard toilet only to discover…” Wednesday stepped forward, crushing Joey against the countertop with his considerably larger chest. His hand snaked down to Joey’s crouch and pulled gently on the guitarist’s swelling member. “Only to discover Ghoul and Eric just like this. Except, I think Eric was straddling Ghoul.” Joey shrieked in alarm as Wednesday suddenly slipped his hands around Joey’s ribcage, lifting the pale guitarist and setting him gently on the cabinet top.
“I see…” Joey smiled and bracketed Wednesday’s slender hips with his legs, crossing his ankles to trap his lover.
“God, you’re so sexy.” Wednesday ran his fingernails down Joey’s chest, tauntingly skimming the nipples as rosy marks appeared per his caress.
“Fuck, Wednesday,” Joey growled. He twined the vocalist’s dreads between his delicate fingers, forcing their lips in concert, tongues sparring within their mouths’ moist heat. As their hips began to grind together of their own accord, there came a commotion from the front of the bus, followed by the sounds of laughter and Eric calling out: “Hey Joey! Wednesday! Come here!” The aforementioned pair glanced warily at each other, and then at the door leading from the kitchen.
“Do we have to?”
“Now’s better than later.”