Robert jingled his keys his in hand, fingers flipping through each one on the ring until they started repeating. Then he stuffed the set in his pocket and gripped his knees. He waited for what seemed like an eternity before pulling them out and beginning to finger them again. Checking his watch told him it had only been two minutes. “Christ,” he muttered.

He slid his hands into both his pockets and paced back and forth alongside his limousine. The area behind the club was well-lit, and he watched his feet going in and out of shadows and light as he walked. But he found his hands unconsciously fumbling in his pockets and he quit pacing. He sat down on the hood of the limo with a sigh and leaned back, head resting against the windshield as though it were a pillow.

“Well, well. What have we here? I thought the playboys were all still inside at this time of night. But here’s our very own centerfold like he jumped right out of the pages of one of my magazines.”

Robert sat up to spot Pit walking over from the end of the row of employee parking. “Fuck you,” he muttered, not sure if Pit heard or not. Either way, Robert got off his car at once. He took off his black chauffeur’s cap, ran his hand through his dark brown hair, and replaced it.

“Except, it looks like you might have put on a couple pounds recently. Not very model-esque.”

“You’re one to talk!” Robert snapped back. Pit was anything but the typical pinup, unless the magazine was for overweight, balding, middle-aged men past their peaks. “So what’re you doing stalking me in the dead of night?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you be over at the leather biker bar or something?”

Pit wasn’t about to give Robert the satisfaction by admitting that he’d actually just come from there. “I filled in for Greg last week when he was in Australia. So I’m just stopping by to pick up my paycheck.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Robert leaned back against the building. “Couldn’t just have one of the bosses bring it home to you?”

Rolling his eyes. “Yeah, that’s it. I like to just snap my fingers and have them do things for me.”

“Must be nice,” Robert said, grinning.

The back door opened and Robert immediately turned, expecting one of his bosses to appear, ears burning, with some clients. But it was just Julia. “You looking for me, Beautiful?” he called over to her.

She walked over, graceful and gorgeous in her high heals and the tight, vinyl outfit she always wore as though it were a uniform. If Robert could have found himself attracted to women, she would absolutely be number one on his list. Maybe she’d be the only name on the list, he didn’t know. It wasn’t exactly the sort of hypothetical that was easy to think about in absolutes. He was pretty damn certain that, were he straight, she’d be on him in an instant; they’d discussed that before.

Julia nodded, gave Robert a hello kiss, and then kissed Pit’s cheek. She turned to Robert afterward, all business already. “Sweetie wanted me to check with you about the car. Did you take it in for that tune-up?”

“Something wrong with her?” Pit asked, dragging his hand across the hood as though it might magically spring open for him. “Want me to take a look under your hood, Robert?”

Rolling his eyes, “Oh yeah. Just what I want.” Unlike Julia, Robert felt an undeniable attraction to Pit. But he was hardcore and older and had a mouth on him… which were three things that both dissuaded and fascinated him. Quickly he shoved the thought out of his mind, just like he shoved his fists back into his pockets. “The car stalled once last week, but I think it was just the heat. I made an appointment to drop her off at the station around the corner on Sunday night. She’ll be fine until then.” It had only happened the one time and Sunday was just three days away. “So bring on the clients.” The sooner the better. His fingers were searching his pockets again.

“Seriously, I wouldn’t mind checking out the limo,” Pit offered again.

Robert considered for a moment, then, “Seriously, it’s fine and ready. There’s no need. Just leave it.”

“It would only take a few minutes.”

Robert snorted. “Just like your performance in bed, right?” Snap.

“Not that you’ll ever know.” Ouch.

Pit gave him a death stare, his lips pursed beneath his moustache. He gave Julia a kiss and slid an arm around her waist. “Come, my dear. I have a paycheck to pick up and I believe Robert wants to be alone with his car for a few minutes.” He spun her around and they headed inside with laughter between them. Robert heard Julia remark about sexual tension.

Robert sighed. His fingers were feeling around his pockets, seizing upon the keys, the dollar and twenty-eight in change, and the cloth insides of his pockets. Once upon a time his pockets were weighted down with much more. And it was times like this that he wished they were again.

He took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. Instead of refreshing air, he got hot air, heavy with stifling humidity. It made him feel sluggish and made him want to go inside, but didn’t want to be faced with any of those tempting sights tonight. There was a strict rule about not dating the clients. And though ‘dating’ wasn’t quite what Robert had in mind, the other things he was thinking about weren’t allowed either.

Luckily, Nik turned up not long after with a handful of boys needing rides home. Only one looked overly inebriated, though even he was able to give a full destination address, so he couldn’t be so out of it. Now Robert felt in his element. He knew the streets of Stokes, Maryland and its outlying suburbs infinitely better than the back of his hand. How many people really knew the backs of their hands well anyway?

More important than the fact that he was good at navigating and mapping out the most efficient routes was that it kept his hands on the steering wheel and kept him busy. He could sing along to the radio or pop in a book on tape or listen to the conversations going on in the back, which was always the most entertaining option. It also made it easier to keep an eye on the guys in the back. Though a bit of fondling or even an occasional handjob weren’t rare, he had to make sure they played fairly and safely, especially when a little too much alcohol was involved.

This carload, however, was calm. The men barely conversed, let alone fooled around with each other. Robert pointed out that they could put on the radio, but none of them took that option. So things were quiet as Robert drove from home to home, escorting each guy out to his door and then accepting a tip for his troubles.

After all five had been dropped off, Robert turned the car around to head back to Strokes. Common procedure was to call ahead to let them know he was on his way, but he liked to wait to do that until he was a little closer. They never made him wait long and there was no point in giving them a half an hour head start.

He was about fifteen minutes from the club when it happened. He slowed down to stop behind a hummer, of all things, at a traffic light and the limo’s engine stalled. Driving on momentum alone, he managed to pull the car over to the shoulder. When he turned the key in the ignition, however, the engine refused to turn over. The strangled sputtering made him uneasy and he gripped the steering wheel tightly. It was no use. He was SOL. And, worse than that, his only basic knowledge of cars wasn’t going to get him far enough to start the car up again.

Feeling that he was in for an ‘I told you so’ Robert gritted his teeth and reached for his cell phone. The full number popped up automatically as he typed in the first two numbers. He punched the send button, took another deep breath, and pressed the phone to his ear. There was silence. He lowered the phone to find the display had gone grey and the phone had turned off. “What the fuck?” He turned it on and the phone beeped at him, telling him the battery was low. Then it turned off automatically again. Realizing that his car charger would do him no good either, Robert threw the phone onto the passenger’s seat with a string of expletives. There was a backup radio, but it only worked off the power from the cigarette lighter. And that required the car to start. Oh, his bosses were going to kill him when they found out he hadn’t kept his phone charged in case of emergencies.

In vain, Robert tried the engine one final time. Then he got out of the car and kicked the gravel. Strokes’ emergency kit was pretty complete, so he set up emergency triangles a few paces behind the car. As he saw it, he had two options. Sit and wait there, hoping that some cop got off the beaten track and came down that street. Or walk toward Strokes and keep his eyes open for a rare pay phone or a store open after midnight.

As Robert detested waiting, he tossed his chauffeur’s hat onto the passenger’s seat, locked the car up, and started walking. He crossed the intersection and made it about ten minutes down the road when he remembered what he’d left behind in the car. His pockets jingled from coins and keys as he turned back around, considering going for it. But he knew, even if he got the cigarette he kept under the sun visor, he had nothing to light it with. Still, it was tempting to go back for it just to have it… the feel of it between his lips, the way it sat in his hand. He could imagine the rush of nicotine in his system and how relaxed it would make him. He could definitely use something to calm his nerves right now.

But turning back would get him nowhere, so he kept going toward Strokes, jingling the contents of his pockets nervously. He was still about five miles away. If he kept up this walking pace, he might be able to get there in an hour. But, after twenty more minutes, he slowed down. There was a stitch in his side and he was having a hard time catching his breath. He stopped to compose himself, hands on his thighs as he doubled-over.

This wasn’t going to go well, however it went down. He’d been told repeatedly to get the car checked out. And he’d repeatedly refused Pit’s offer to help out tonight. And now he found himself broken down and stranded on the side of the road. News like this traveled around the gay scene faster than a case of crabs, especially if Tony happened to be within earshot. Nik and Sweetie were sympathetic bosses, and they wouldn’t fire him over something like this. But with everyone knowing what an idiot he’d been, he’d probably end up wishing they would just fire him.

Cars passed by him going one direction or the other few minutes. They went fifty or fifty-five in a forty mile-an-hour zone. He tried to flag a few down, but none stopped and he couldn’t blame them. He wouldn’t stop for a hitchhiker in this city, let alone a man at one in the morning… even one in a suit as fine as Robert’s was.

He was roughly seven blocks from the club when he found himself illuminated in headlights. His shadow stretched far ahead of him, and he swiveled around in concern. Getting run over by a car would just be the perfect ending for the night. But it wasn’t a car, and it had no intention of running him over. Robert blinked as the motorcycle stopped short, spotting the familiar form dismounting. “Fuck. It’d have to be you, wouldn’t it, Pit?”

Pit took his helmet off and tucked it under his arm as he walked over to Robert. “Keep acting like an asshole and I’m going to turn right back around and head home.” Robert shut his mouth. “You’re lucky I spotted the limo and thought to look for you walking back.”

“Yeah, real lucky,” he muttered.

“Hey, watch it now,” Pit chuckled.

Robert narrowed his eyes, the darkness surrounding him, apart from the headlight of Pit’s bike. “If the price I have to pay for keeping quiet is to listen to you gloat, I think I’ll take the long walk back in silence, thanks very much.”

Pit chuckled again and shook his head. “No gloating, no insults. Let’s just go check out the car and get you someplace safer then walking by the side of the road in the middle of the night wearing black.”

Robert eyed the motorcycle. “Safe like riding on the back of a motorcycle without a helmet?” He quickly added, “That wasn’t an insult. I’m just saying…”

Smiling back, “I’ve got an extra helmet, Man. Come on.” He slapped Robert on the arm and guided him back.

As Pit pulled the extra helmet out of the compartment, Robert couldn’t help but notice a few other items in there. The bandana and the spare shirt were rather innocuous, but the book was rather unexpected. “You read Russian love poetry?” Robert asked. “I didn’t even know there was such an animal.”

“Shut up,” Pit said, handing the helmet over and closing the compartment. “Sweetie got me hooked on the stuff. Besides, it’s a translation.” He looked over at Robert, who had frozen in place. “What’s that funny look on your face for?”

“I know a little Russian.”

Again, “What?”

“My nana never learned English so we’d have to use it to talk to her. And she used to read me bedtime stories when she lived with us. I don’t remember all the conjugations and tenses, and I can understand it more than speak it. But, yeah, I know a little.”

“I’d never have guessed.” Pit hopped on his bike, looking at Robert with just a bit of awe. “You’ll have to read me something sometime.”

“If you get me out of this mess, it’s a deal.”

The awe passed quickly. “Aren’t you getting on? I promise no wheelies.” Robert still hesitated. “Not scared are you?”

“Who me?” Robert gritted his teeth as he sat down on the back of the bike. A little nervous, he scooted up right against Pit and wrapped his arms around the man’s large waist as best he could.

Even so, he nearly fell off when Pit started it up. It was louder than he’d been expecting, and his whole body rattled, starting with his ass. It wasn’t altogether uncomfortable, though. At least, not until they pealed away and Robert was terrified he’d fall off going a hundred miles an hour.

The walk seemed like it had taken an hour, but he arrived right back at the scene not a few minutes later. Robert slid off, hoping Pit hadn’t noticed his hard-on. It had been entirely unavoidable, what with the proximity and the vibrations. “First time on a motorcycle?” Pit asked. When Robert nodded. “It’s a rush, isn’t it?” Pit took off his helmet.

Familiar with all sorts of rushes, Robert wasn’t sure how to answer. He took off his helmet and dug his keys out of his pocket. “Yeah, I guess.” He unlocked the car and sighed. “I was slowing down, and it just cut off,” he explained. He tried the engine again to demonstrate that it wouldn’t start. Then he popped the hood.

Pit grabbed a couple tissues from the box inside, using them to touch parts. As it had been sitting for a while, it was cool to the touch. He checked the dipstick and then fiddled around with things Robert couldn’t identify. Feeling a bit lost, he stood back and let Pit do his thing. It wasn’t long before Pit glanced back over his shoulder. “Got a good view from back there?”

Robert made a dismissive noise and waved the comment off. He hadn’t been checking the older man out, but now that Pit had brought it up, he found his eyes straying to Pit’s rear end. It was… tempting. He fought against another inappropriate hard-on. “You got anything?” he asked, trying to sound more impatient than turned on.

Pit straightened and put the hood back down. He turned and wiped his hands clean. “It’s your O2 Sensor. The holder broke, which could be repaired pretty easily, but it got jostled around and the sensor itself is shot now. Gonna have to be replaced.”

Robert groaned. “So what happens now? We’ll have to call a tow truck now? My cell phone died on me so right now I’m MIA at the club. You don’t have one, do you?” He sighed. “Not that it matters. They’ll give me an earful for this, whatever happens.”

“No,” Pit said. “I don’t believe in the things, though right now I could see how one might come in handy. But I’ve got the part back at my shop, which is only a few blocks east of here. It’d be a hell of a lot easier to pop over there and back. No one would have to know.”

“You’d do that for me?” Robert asked incredulously. This was definitely unexpected. “And you actually won’t tell anyone?”

Shrugging, “Not if you don’t give me a reason to.” He put his helmet back on and said a slightly muffled, “You game?”

Robert locked the car again, jiggling the handle to be sure, then jumped back onto the bike. “You’re being so nice all of a sudden,” Robert said, finding himself attracted to this part of the man just as much as the hardened exterior.

“On the contrary,” Pit said. “I think it’s you who’s much improved. Though that wouldn’t be hard, now, would it?” Ah, there was the teasing Robert had expected. “Now hold on tightly for the ride and be careful to lean into the turns with me.” They were there in what felt like seconds. Robert wondered how fast Pit drove, because it felt like maybe two hundred miles an hour now. They went so fast that the wind actually felt a little cool around him. It was pretty refreshing in the hot summer air. He was glad the ride wasn’t longer, though. Too much longer and he might have lost himself to it all.

“What’s wrong?” Pit asked as he got his keys out to open up his darkened shop from the back entrance. Waiting, Robert jingled his hands around in his pockets.

It was Robert’s turn to be dumbstruck, “What?” Where should he begin?

“You’re all twitchy. If you’re worried about the car, don’t be. I can fix your baby right up.”

Robert shook his head. “No…” He was worried, but wasn’t going to tell Pit that. “I, ah…” He rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, realizing that his palms were sweaty. “I just quit smoking again and—”

Pit held his hand up. “Say no more. I haven’t touched them in thirteen years and I still get cravings.” He turned the key in the third lock. “But good for you for quitting, man. You’d better make it stick this time.” He finally opened the door, flipped on the lights, and they headed inside. “You’ve never been in my store before, have you?”

Robert hadn’t, and he found himself looking around now. The place looked like a greasier, more ransacked version of the Strokes employee break room. Everywhere he looked he saw car parts, papers with eight layers of carbon copies behind them, pictures of motorcycles clipped from magazines, and file folders with color-coded tabs that seemed to follow no code at all. It went without saying that he couldn’t touch a thing, or it would upset the delicate order of things. Pit paused here only long enough to check something in a book thicker than the Yellow Pages. Robert had to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from making a comment about the sate of things. He held back his coughs as dust tickled his throat.

He followed Pit through the room, ignoring a coffee maker buried under a carburetor, neither of which looked like it had been used or cleaned in a year. A door revealed itself to the side of a Harley Davidson calendar, showing March… of 2002. When he went through the doorway, and the lights there were turned on, he was amazed at the difference in this room. Shelves lined the walls on all sides. One wall had boxes labeled with letters, but the other three had plastic tubs with other labels on them. Robert could only assume they contained parts, because the words and series of letters and numbers along with them were less familiar to him than even Russian.

Pit cried out in triumph, extracting something from one of the bins. “Jackpot.” He brandished the item, and Robert nodded as he would have done even if Pit had pulled out a purple elephant and said it was what the limo needed. “Now I just need to grab a high impedance voltmeter and…” He paused. “Hey, you want to see the show floor first?”

Shrugging, Robert said he wouldn’t mind. He’d gone this far, after all, and who knew if he’d ever be back? Might as well let Pit show off a little if it took the man’s mind off the fact that Robert was an idiot to let his car break down. He followed Pit through yet another doorway, this one with a lock, and found himself in a dark, spacious room. Moonlight shown in through a few large windows along the opposite wall, giving him a decent look at the place.

There was a counter with several cash registers on it. Behind that and on one of the side walls hung a sea of parts and accessories all neatly displayed. There was a desk, the front of which featured large illustrations of bikes. Several motorcycles were displayed on circular platforms. Robert knew absolutely nothing about motorcycles, and had never been particularly goofy about them the way he knew Pit was. But even he had to admit that these were gorgeous. All black and silver, shiny and curvy.

“Hard to resist, aren’t they?” Pit asked through a proud sigh.

Robert shrugged again.

Pit grinned and looked down at Robert’s crotch. “They make you hard, don’t they?”

Robert wasn’t sure it was the motorcycles. But, as Pit walked over to one and ran his hand along the seat, Robert couldn’t help but picture stripping down to nothing, jumping on behind Pit, and fucking the man as they rode it. Nervously, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and jingled again.

“You know,” said Pit thoughtfully, “I opened this place up right after I quit smoking. Substituted one rush for another, I guess you could say.”

Having only just learned what it was like on a motorcycle, Robert could believe that easily.

“Of course there are some other rushes I still partake in as well…” And this time, when he stroked one of the handles, it made Robert quiver. And not a hell of a lot of things in this world made Robert both shut up and quiver.

“Pit…” he whispered. But even the man’s name made him weak. He hated feeling weak. He wanted to feel in control. And after the broken down car, his first motorcycle ride, and accepting help from Pit of all people, he needed to feel in control of something tonight, if only for a few minutes.

“There are blinds,” Pit answered.

This time, Robert couldn’t even manage to ask a stupid question. He just stared dumbly.

“The windows,” Pit gestured. “There are blinds. I don’t usually close them because this whole place is set up to encourage window shopping. But there are blinds. And they close. Unless you’d prefer people watch as you fuck me?”

Robert continued to stare. “You had this in mind the whole time?”

Pit shook his head and held his hand up. “Never even crossed my mind. Scout’s honor. I just thought I was getting a vibe from you a moment ago. But if you’re not interested we’ll just take the stuff over to the limo and you can ogle my behind a little longer there.” He shrugged and headed for the door.

But Robert grabbed for his arm, managing only to catch his sleeve. Then he turned on his best grin. “Show me the blinds,” he said. “Then show me what you look like with your pants ‘round your ankles.” He dropped his suave act for a few moments. “So long as this isn’t some sort of payment for helping me out tonight. Not going to leave me stranded here if I don’t—”

“Oh fuck you!” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’d think I’d really…” And, as he trailed off, Pit grinned, too. He started unbuttoning his jeans. “You had me going there for a minute.”

Robert moved in close, grabbing the jeans by the waist and shoving them down. “Hopefully I’ll have you going for longer than that.” He dug his hands beneath Pit’s boxers, hands sliding over the bulge of Pit’s stomach and over his thick thighs. Fingers twirling in pubic hair and grasping at Pit’s hardness.

Pit moaned into Robert’s neck. “Hopefully?”

Robert swing around, pressing himself into Pit’s back and behind. “Definitely,” he assured he man.

Pit took care of the blinds, and Robert took care of the protection. He always carried a few condoms in his back pocket just in case his clients needed them, and in case he found himself in such a situation even though he hardly ever did. One of the problems with working at Strokes was the fact that he could never pick up guys at Strokes. Going home alone to his right hand was comforting and easy, whereas dealing with Pit had been difficult. But well worth it, he hoped, because the man looked amazing sans clothing.

Pit stripped off his jeans and black t-shirt as though he were an underwear model. And he unashamedly pulled off his boxers with flair as though he had the body of a porn star. In reality, not much could be further from the truth, but Robert was nonetheless captivated by the visuals and confidence.

Pit was a strange contradiction of overweight and in shape. His large body had unending curves, from his incredibly muscular arms to the roll of fat around his middle. Yet it did not in any way diminish his size, which was certainly noticeable half-hard between his legs. The almost tribal tattoos on his arms and upper chest drew Robert’s attention more than anything else, and he wanted to see the designs up close.

He got his wish and then some. He kissed the rose on Pit’s left bicep, which was surrounded by a wreath of thorns. There was a skull beneath that, and a small scroll at the base of the skull with 1982 on it. His other arm had a fierce-looking pit bull in a leather jacket, riding a motorcycle. Though his chest was hairy, a large dragon could nonetheless be seen across his whole upper chest, the tail of which pointed downward toward Pit’s crotch. The flames coming out of the dragon’s mouth stretched around his body to his back where they turned into a tribal design. “You should show off your body more,” Robert said softly, awestruck.

“Oh, yeah.” Pit smacked his gut, which rippled. “Really beautiful.”

Robert shook his head, “I’m not giving you shit. I really mean it. Strangely enough, you are dead sexy.” And that was the most interesting thing to him. He would never have before thought this was his type, going instead for that stereotypical look. But his whole body hummed in tune to what was being presented to him. Pit’s engines seemed to be revving as well, as the man looked at and touched Robert.

“You should compliment people more,” Pit replied. “It’s very sexy on you.” As Robert continued his kisses, and nuzzling his face into Pit’s furry chest, Pit grew fully hard and smiled to himself at that fact. He wrapped his arms easily around Robert. “You’re smaller than the cubs I’m used to,” he mused. “You sure you’re up for this?”

“M’sure,” Robert insisted, around his sucking on a nipple.

Pit grinned and squeezed Robert’s ass. “Then I want to see what you’ve got. Fuck me right here.”

Pit wasn’t what anyone would call graceful, but there was a beauty in the way his body sunk down to the floor under Robert’s firm grasp. And the way he stretched out over the shiny white floor, willingly and eagerly presenting his ass, brought Robert down to him. Robert kneaded his hands into Pit’s back as he straddled the man. There was the sensual warmth of his skin, the way the bold strokes of the tattoo reflected his mood, and the perfect curves of the rear end which was ready and waiting.

Robert rubbed his dick teasingly along the crack. Slippery from lubrication and the condom, it slid back and forth easily, making Robert groan in desire. After applying just a little extra lube, he reached down to brace himself as he pushed his way in. “Nice having… something to… hold onto,” he commented.

He made it inside, and Pit clenched around him in a tightness Robert had not been expecting. Robert threw his head back with a breathy moan of pleasure. The bliss of pulling out halfway was only made better by the intense pleasure of thrusting back in again. Pit jerked and clenched, doing half the work so all Robert had to do was keep the pace and hold on. The motorcycle ride had been erotic, but this ride was smoother and infinitely more intense.

It felt unbelievably good. His balls slapped against the somewhat hairy skin. His dick throbbed as muscles guided him in and out so naturally. Robert had the freedom to go as fast and hard as he wanted, pounding into the man relentlessly, knowing Pit could take it.

It was Robert who could not take it for long. He slowed down and sped up again. He dug his fingers into Pit’s soft back and then his squishy sides. He moaned, half of him wanting desperately to come and the other half feeling as though he should hold out because of all his talk about his skill.

“That’s it,” Pit grunted. His fingers flexed, slipping on the floor without anything to grab onto. “Let it…” He groaned.

Robert considered that his cue. He let instinct take over. And the rush of release overcame all else. He moaned loudly, but couldn’t hear it for the rush filling his head. He pushed in harder, as though he could go deeper, wanting the intensity to continue. But it passed and he was drained and exhausted.

Robert pulled out and the snap of the latex condom as he stripped it off echoed in the large showroom. There was a trashcan not two feet away, but Robert quickly ducked into the restroom to throw it away. Upon returning, Robert found Pit on his back, slowly stroking his hard cock. “You need a little extra help?” Robert asked, dropping down to his knees between Pit’s spread legs.

“I’m not a horny teenager,” he stated.

Robert nodded, feeling a bit guilty for not paying more attention. But being in Pit had felt too good to resist. “You like oral, Pit?”

“Show me a gay man who doesn’t and I’ll show you a flying pig.” Pit replied. He took his hand off his dick and folded his hands beneath his head, an almost unexpected sign of complete trust.

This just so happened to be Robert’s specialty. He was great at other stuff, of course. Pit hadn’t complained about his skills as a top, but Robert could give a blow job to make your eyes bug out. It didn’t mater the length or the cut or the hair… he took it all in with his mouth wide and throat relaxed as if he’d been born to do it. His tongue slurped around the nuts and he wetly kissed the shaft. But it was his sucking that made cheeks flush and breath catch.

“Knew I liked that mouth of yours…” Pit muttered, his eyes wide with delight, tongue pressed against his bottom lip as he breathed deeply. “But this… oh fuck— this!

It barely took half the time that Robert had spent in Pit. Pit came with such a loud groan that it reminded Robert of where they were and why they could be so loud. It practically echoed through the otherwise deserted showroom. Basking in his abilities, Robert swallowed then pulled back, wiping his mouth with his wrist. Then he flopped down onto his back on the cold tile floor, beside Pit.

Robert’s breathing was deep but quick, and he coughed, feeling slightly dehydrated. He also suddenly felt urges that could not be satisfied. “Damnit,” he muttered. The sex had been meant to replace those feelings. “What I wouldn’t give for a—”

“Don’t say it. Don’t even think it,” Pit instructed, cutting him off with a kiss. Then the man sat up and started dressing again. “Just enjoy what happened and let’s get going. Your bosses will be worried about you by now.”

“Shit, that’s right,” Robert agreed. He gathered up his clothes and hurriedly dressed. “D’you have a phone here I can use? I need to call Julia.” There was one back in that first disorganized room.

Julia was understanding and forgiving. She relayed that Sweetie and Nik had been suspicious when he didn’t return or call, but she covered for him and said she’d keep it up as best she could, but her limo was pretty packed. He promised that he’d be back soon. Feeling guilty, he hung up and turned to Pit.

The man had pulled the blinds back up into place and picked up the part and tools he needed. “Back on the bike,” he declared. “You ready?”

Robert nodded. As he zoned out on the ride to the limo, he realized he was feeling quite relaxed, for a change. Not to say that he didn’t miss that rush of nicotine in his body… but the best and worst of the night were over and he made it through without. That alone made him feel better than if he’d let the chemicals do their thing.

“Now,” Pit said, taking off his helmet and t-shirt so it wouldn’t get dirty. “You just stand back and let me work my magic. I’ll have you running again in no time.”

Shaking his head, “Nah, that’s all right. Just work on the car.”

Pit groaned but did get started.

Robert half-sat and half-leaned against the motorcycle. Facing the front of the car, he watched Pit from behind. He could only see certain actions, but didn’t understand most of what the man was doing anyway. True to form, he found himself staring at Pit’s ass more than anything else. “You keep lookin’ at me that way, you’re gonna give me a complex,” Pit chuckled, catching Robert out of the corner of his eye as he bent down for something in the toolkit he’d brought.

“As if you didn’t already have one?” Robert laughed back, comfortable in the exchange of quips. So comfortable that it made him think. “Hey,” Robert began uncertainly. “About what just happened back there. I’m not looking for a… I mean, I wouldn’t want it to hurt our, well, what we usually are—”

“Shut up,” Pit said, lifting his head and turning all the way to face Robert. “I know what that was and what it wasn’t. It doesn’t change a thing between us, you snippy, sarcastic bastard.”

Robert grinned. “Thanks, you smartass, big-headed bear.”

Pit smiled then turned back to the car. “You know,” he muttered as he clanked around. “I would have thought a driver would be more of an expert about cars.”

Shrugging, “I’m better in the backseat than under the hood.”

Pit glanced back over his shoulder, “That much I can believe.” He stepped back and pulled a paper towel out of his pocket. “All right. Try ‘er now.”

Robert eagerly hopped into the driver’s seat. He kept the door open, but put his foot on the brake as he turned the key in the ignition. It started up perfectly, like magic. The sound was soothing and made the stress just melt right out of Robert. He kept it running as he got out, shaking his head. “You so rock, Man. How can I thank you? I can pay for the parts—”

“No, no.” Pit carefully lowered the hood then wiped his hands on a cloth he’d brought. “It’s my good deed for the week. I’m just glad I happened by when I did.”

“So am I,” Robert said understatedly. He patted the hood of his car with great affection. “And so’s the limo.” He took a few steps over and kissed Pit’s cheek.

Pit chuckled casually. “I’ll take that as a thank you.”

“Drive safe.” Robert said, heading back to the car.

“You, too.” Pit donned his shirt and helmet then climbed back onto his bike to head home.

            Robert sat back down in the driver’s seat. He sighed. Then he checked his mirrors and pulled onto the road, glad to finally be heading back to some normalcy. The car was as good as ever, and ready for its next load of inebriated club kids. Pit had done excellent work. And that quickie clearly hadn’t completely ruined their wit or the sexual tension between them. The night had been full of ups and downs, but he’d made it through all right in the end. He felt as relaxed and satisfied as if he’d smoked that last cigarette of his but immensely glad he hadn’t.