Caught in a Bad Romance
The ugly neon green duvet felt warm and heavy against Sir's naked body. With very little recollection of what had happened the night before, he couldn't help but grin though he didn't know why. The craving for a morning cigar awakening, he reached over to pick up one of those fat, sausage-like murderers. Placing it between his teeth, he outstretched an arm to get his lighter. He flipped the switch, generating a cloud of smoke over his face. After several moments of pure bliss, the sleeping person beside him began to move, scaring him silly. Knowing his wife was currently away with the children, it couldn't have been her but the mysterious person began to move more, he braced himself. Charles rolled over on to his other side, slowly waking up, to Sir's horror. The young man heaved a deep sigh of contentment, snuggling up close to the bewildered businessman.
" Good morning, Sir," Charles sighed, his eyes still clamped shut as he smiled. " I had a great time last night."
" Why? What happened?" he demanded, feeling every emotion all at once.
" I thought you wouldn't remember. We started drinking. You got so drunk that you could barely stand! I brought you home, we started making out and one thing led to another…" he trailed off, the need for sleep washing over him.
Sir jerked and shoved Charles off him, moving away. Wide awake and surprised, Charles sat up, the duvet sliding off his skinny bare chest. Sir was absolutely flabbergasted and his heart filled with disgust, regret and guilt at the thought of sleeping with a man. He began to move away further and fell over the edge of the bed, hitting his head hard against the bedside table. Charles let out a drawn-out theatrical gasp.
" Are you all right, Sir?" he asked.
" Yes, yes," the large, overweight man grumbled. Desperately, he looked around to find something that would not put his nakedness on show. " Where is my underwear?" he snapped.
Charles smiled as he pointed towards the ceiling fan, where a very large pair of sky blue boxer shorts were hanging off it, revealed a small but distinctive skidmark. " Up there, Sir," he chuckled.
Sir looked up, blushing violently. Instead, he grabbed his wife's clean and soft bath towel and wrapped it around the lower region of his body. Feeling somewhat secure, he stood up, although after Charles had wolf-whistled, he wished he hadn't gotten drunk in the first place. Resting his head on his hand, Charles sighed dreamily and admired the beauty of Sir's animalistic hairiness.
" Will you stop gawping at me? Please?" he barked, Charles immediately obeying. " I want no one to find out about this! You got that?" he roared, the sweat trickling down his forehead, knowing he would be a dead man if Ingrid found out.
Charles nodded, a bunch of auburn curls sliding down in front of his eyes, though he was too frightened to brush back it into place.
" I need to go to work," Sir said, the anger still not subsiding. Then the realisation hit him. " God, I have to go to work! What if they see us come in together and suspect something? You didn't leave your car here! I have to drive you!"
" Sir, Sir, Sir, Sir! It's OK. I'll walk; it's not far."
Work that day, especially for Sir, was particularly awkward. He refused to speak to that surprisingly good-looking business partner of his; it had been a long time since Charles' handsome grey eyes sparkled in such a way and it suited him. He was a sweet man, really, and it gradually became obvious that he didn't deserve this silent treatment any longer. So at the beginning of the lunch break, Sir invited Charles into his office.
" What's wrong, Sir?" he asked worriedly. " Does this have anything to do with last night? Sir, I'm so sorry! Please don't fire me! I need this job!"
" Shut ya yap! I'm not firing you," Sir answered as calmly as he could. He went over to the desk, the smoke following him as he sat down in the chair. " I just want to know exactly what happened."
Surprised, Charles began to recall the details of that magical night of passion and fire. " Well…We were finishing up some paperwork and you brought out a bottle of red wine. You invited me to drink with you so I did. We started talking and laughing and you know…Then after a few glasses, you started crying about Ingrid and how you two have a loveless marriage. So I took you home. Then you…you told me that you hated living a lie and that you were in love with me and you wanted a taste of my-"
" Fellow Hobbit, yes," Sir interrupted, feeling ashamed of his drunken behaviour.
" Sir, I've always had a little bit of a crush on you! And it just sort of happened. So you can't blame me for it or yourself for that matter."
Sir nodded his head solemnly, though it was hard to tell through the thick smoke. " You know everything I said about being in love with you? It's true. I guess I never wanted to acknowledge it because of Ingrid and my girls."
" So what do we do?" Charles asked hopefully.
He shrugged. " Whatever we want."
Charles glanced at the clock on the wall and smiled. " We still have an hour before lunch ends…How about giving a repeat performance?"
Vigorously, Sir pulled him in for a passionate kiss, slipping his tongue into his partner's mouth and running his fingers through his hair, moaning softly as the pair began their secret affair.