Blue-Eyed Boys

(Down at the pool. Drake is laying on a chair in the sun between his two bikini-clad BFF’s. Adam is walking around with a handful of flyers, posting them everywhere, trying to get people to come see the band. Behind mirrored sunglasses, Drake catches a glimpse of the tall black-haired singer, chattering away with the bartender.)

“Hey Adam. I didn’t know you guys were back here this weekend.”
“We’re here all week. Do me a favor? Post this on the bulletin board?”
“No problem.”

Drake, meanwhile, wants a closer look.

“Be right back.”

He gets up and heads for the bar, tossing his sunglasses on the chair. Adam watches him approach and studies the tan, shirtless frame coming toward him. He licks his lips. The bartender chuckles.

“Behave, Adam! You always did like the pretty little ones.”

He turns to Drake.

“What can I get you?”

Drake orders and hops onto the bar stool next to Adam, who wastes no time.

“Hi, I’m Adam.”
“Drake.”

They shake hands.

“We’re playing here all week. Come check us out.”

He flashes a megawatt smile at Drake, who rests his chin on his hand and looks Adam up and down.

“Maybe I just did.”

Adam can’t help but notice the twinkle in Drake’s big blue eyes, and moves in closer, leaning toward him.

“You have gorgeous eyes, Drake.”

Drake meets Adam’s eyes for the first time, realizing they’re just as blue as his own.

“So do you.”

The bartender brings his drink, and he reaches into his pocket.

“Let me get that for you,” Adam offers.
“Put his drink on my tab”, he tells the bartender.
“You didn’t have to do that. Thank you.”
“I hope you’ll come tonight,” Adam whispers provocatively, “and see us play”.

The bartender laughs.

“You’re shameless, Adam!”
“What? What’d I say?”, he asks, feigning innocence.

Drake takes a sip of his drink and licks his lips, turning to Adam.

“I’d love to. Come tonight, that is.”

Adam’s eyes are on Drake’s chest. He gives in to the urge to reach out and touch Drake’s smooth, tanned skin, running a finger over his collarbone.

“Eight o’clock. See you there.”

Adam brushes a finger under Drake’s chin, and leaves to post more flyers, but not without one last backward glance and smile at Drake, who winks and returns to his friends.

“Damn, Drake, who’s the hottie?”
“Forget it, Bitch! More my type than yours.”
“He was gorgeous.”
“Duh! We’re gonna see his band play tonight. Here.”

He hands her the flyer.

“His name’s Adam.”
“He was sure hittin’ on your skinny li’l ass.”
“What can I say? Don’t hate me ‘cause I’m beautiful.”
“Oh, get fucked, Drake!”
“He he. I plan on it, Bitch!”
“I’m depressed.”
“Cheer up. Maybe he’s got a straight friend.”

Drake grabs the flyer and studies Adam’s picture. His eyes travel to the singer’s tight pants. He swallows hard.

“Damn, what’s he got down there, an anaconda?”, he thinks out loud.
“Lemme see that!”

The other girl grabs the picture out of Drake’s hands.
“Holy shit, he’s fuckin’ huge!”

Drake claps a hand over her mouth.

“Girlfriend, you are making a scene. Shutthefuckup!”

Adam, meanwhile, is in a very good mood. He’s singing to himself, thinking about the adorable blue-eyed boy he just met at the poolside bar.

“I could do some seriously dirty things to that man.”

He finishes posting flyers all over the resort, and returns to his room, unable to get Drake’s eyes out of his head. He flops onto the bed and closes his eyes, rolling onto his back, letting images of Drake fill his head. His hands glide down his own body as he imagines himself in bed with Drake. He pictures those pretty blue eyes closing as he plants kisses on his bronzed skin.

“Drake...”, he whispers, trying out the sound of his name, whispered between kisses.

He feels his cock coming to life, and reaches down to unzip his shorts.

“Ooh yeah. That’s it, Baby. Suck it!”

Lost in the fantasy, he loses all track of time, until he hears himself calling out “Draaake!”, his hand hot and sticky with his own cum.

“I really hope he’s there tonight,” he thinks, as he strips off the rest of his clothes and steps into the shower.