Duty calls

Throwing their clothes on and returning to work, the rest of the shift was the mundane insanity of catering to the thirstiest crowd of queers in the city. Vodka red bulls flowed at an alarming rate, and many scantily clad men jostled for Simon and Oliver’s attention. Oliver loved the rush. Falling into the flow of the storm, he danced around Simon with practiced ease.

Perhaps heightened by their indiscretion earlier, Simon and Oliver gave their audience a little something to watch as they slung rail liquor and mixers. They both knew that with their clientele, two attractive men with sexual tension behind a bar would double the incoming tips. Tonight though, they were in a world of their own, each move just a fraction closer to their counterpart than it strictly needed to be. Each touch made Oliver shudder, the memory of taking Simon pressing into him, the feeling of that beautiful cock filling his mouth. Oliver unconsciously licked his lips, the taste of Simon still heavy on his tongue.

A trio of young men requested a round of shots, prompting Oliver to hold a hand up and shout “Cuervo caballero!” setting out three shot glasses with practiced ease. Simon appeared behind him, wrapping a hand around Oliver’s waist to pour the shots overflowing with rail tequila. The three patrons watched intently as Simon’s hand played with Oliver’s belly button just under his shirt, and Oliver gasped as Simon took a little nibble of his ear- “De nada cowboy” Simon purred, just loudly enough for the onlookers to hear. Oliver knew his face was flushed bright red and took no convincing when Simon proposed their audience buy their bartenders a round. Grabbing the saltshaker, Simon offered out his hand expectantly.

With a coy smile, Oliver tenderly closed Simon’s hand into a fist and lavished his tongue across the space between Simon’s thumb and index finger and dusted it with salt. Handing Simon his shot, Oliver placed a wedge of lime between his lips. Simon’s face burst into a massive shit eating grin as he slammed back the shot and pulled Oliver in close to bite the flesh from the lime. The scent of tequila mixed with Simon’s musk as the Simon ripped the lime away with his teeth, spit off to the side, and kissed Oliver to a cheer.

Still grinning Simon tapped his collarbone with a finger. Realizing the intention, Oliver planted a wet kiss on Simon, applied some salt, and eagerly sucked it off the man’s chest. Throwing his own shot back, Oliver relished the burn and sucked on the lime Simon pressed into his mouth.

The shift continued much the same as it started. The fever pitch rose to a crescendo of cheap drinks and undisguised flirting between Simon and Oliver. Finally, the crowd started filtering out into the night, hopefully to after parties or a lover’s bed. Oliver knew he should be bone tired, but after hours of Simon rubbing up on him, he was wide awake. Despite cumming all over Simon’s chest hours before, he knew he wanted more.

“Ollie Ollie Ollie, finally got the place to ourselves again” Simon hopped back up on the bar, the same position that had set the unusual tone of the evening. Without hesitation this time, Oliver went to Simon, kissing him eagerly. Oliver pulled back, “How does it feel Si? I guess you finally won. Looks like I’m not as straight as we thought.” Simon threw his head back and laughed, wrapping his legs around Oliver’s back to pull him in tighter “Ollie you little minx, I knew from day one you weren’t straight, you just needed the proper encouragement to set aside those ridiculous preconceived ideas you had about sexuality.” Simon’s eyes gleamed naughtily, and he looked down at Oliver “Carlos always says we do a shit job closing, and that silly little twink didn’t even show up for his shift tonight. What do you say you help me check the inventory in the back again?”

Oliver knew he was moving faster than he ever would have dreamed, but after the day he’d had, he saw no problem indulging in a bit more mischievous sluttiness. Oliver answered by slipping out of Simon’s legs and stripping his shirt off, sprinting to lock the front door. Simon burst out laughing again and peeled his own shirt off to chase after Oliver. Pants were soon to follow as the men embraced, kissing each other hungrily.