Banana Bonds
Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked.
A/N: Chemistry is perverted, ftw.
Set the night before Doctor Dillamond dies.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Boq was trying to tutor Avaric, and the margreave's progeny was having none of it.
"So these boron molecules here…"
"Who're you calling moron, moron?" Avaric demanded, pulling a decanter of whiskey out of nowhere.
"Boron. And put that away, its hard enough trying to let a little knowledge into your head without you being inebriated—"
"Bokky, Bokky, Bokky," the taller lad soothed, "Relax. Have a peg. Relax some more. And then tell me about this moron—sorry, boron—you keep on harping about."
"I'm not harping about it," Boq sniffed, waving away the glass of booze being offered, "I'm trying to teach—for the love of the Unnamed God, Avaric, are you listening?"
"Yes, but I'm finding it terribly hard to care." Avaric tilted his head back, pouring his glass' contents down his gullet. The creamy conch of his throat was as scintillating as any woman's, and for a minute Boq wondered whether a love bite there would accentuate the skin or mar it.
He shook himself.
"Had enough? Listen. The boron atom here and the boron atom here have hydrogen atoms flanking them—"
"Aren't you majoring in agriculture? Barley and beans, that sort of rubbish?"
"This is standard education, Avaric. I learnt this stuff when I was barely pubescent. Now, these boron atoms have one electron to give, and one electron to share…" he pointed to a diagram in the book that showed an x and an o opposite another x and an o, and two ex.'s in the sides. "So these three form a bond and these three form a bond. That bond is called the tri-center (for connecting three places) di-electron (for connecting two electrons) bond, or the tau bond, or the banana bond—"
Avaric let out a wild whoop of laughter. "Banana bonds!"
"Yes," Boq frowned, "Banana bonds. Because the diagrammatical representation resembles a banana—what's so funny!" he exclaimed as his friend burst out into fresh squeals of mirth.
"Bananas, Boq, bananas! Do—you—know—what bananas are?" Avaric asked, shaking the Munchkinlander's shoulders.
His erstwhile tutor batted him away. "Of course I do, they're fruit!"
Avaric collapsed against his shoulder, gaping for breath and reeking of alcohol. "They're—the—most—phallic—fruit!"
Realization didn't dawn on Boq. It leapt out form behind a door called confusion, screamed BOO and nearly scared his knickers off. One minute he was scowling in disapproval, the next he'd shoved Avaric away and was hiding a ruddy blush in his hands.
"He gets it!" hooted Avaric, "Finally!"
"You disgusting ass," Boq mumbled "Oh, ew, oh, no, oh, the images."
Avaric's laughs petered out, and he watched intently as his friend tried—in vain—to stop the blood form flowing to his face. "What sort of images?" he teased, "Have you seen a dick other than your own, you virgin, you?"
"You're as virginal as I am," Boq muttered, finally removing his hands. His cheeks were still ochre, but he sallied on. "And yes, I have."
Avaric stared. Boq's blush returned.
"I thought you liked what's her name—the Gillikin girl from Crage Hall!"
"I do like Galinda!" Boq cried, "God, Avaric! No, its just…during the summer, the Three Queens boys, Crope and Tibbett and I used to go for swims in the canal. They never kept their clothes on for long."
"Poufs have dicks?" Avaric said blankly. Boq glared at him. "They're not eunuchs, you jerk."
"I'm sorry," the margreave's son said sincerely, "So what sort of images? I didn't think you had a mind nasty enough to imagine men buggering their eyeballs out."
"Language!" Boq groaned, but half heartedly. As part of the aristocracy, the only times Avaric didn't need to keep a civil tongue in his head were times like these.
"Tell me," Avaric insisted, "Go on Boq, aren't we friends?"
"I didn't think we were that sort of friends," Boq snapped.
"You're handing out with the elf girl too much, you're losing your rustic sweetness," Avaric warned, "Now tell me or I shall tell your Galinda your inside-leg measurement!"
"You don't know my inside leg measurement!"
"I can hazard a guess, and it won't be generous."
"Fine," Boq relented, "I was imagining…them, um…" he made a helpless gesture, rubbing his palms together.
"Boq…!"
"Dicks rubbing together," Boq said in a mortified whisper, "Through trousers, then through and underwear—then through nothing at all."
Avaric gaped at the smaller male. Boq swung the text book towards him. "Stop gawking, would you!"
"Boq," the nobleman said in a totally different voice that Boq was unaccustomed, "Geez, Boq. You're a pouf, aren't you?"
"No," the brunet said sharply. "No," he repeated in a softer tone.
"Okay" Avaric agreed, "No."
There was a silence, the kind that usually occurs when all the players on a football field have suddenly combusted, and the audience has no idea whether to roar their approval or faint dead away.
And then—like a commentator announcing that it was merely a very clever illusion—Avaric broke the silence. He didn't say a word but leaned over and kissed Boq. It started out slow, a greeting between friends, and then the smaller boy moaned—a protest, a plea—upon which Avaric sidled up to him, sliding into his lap and flicking his tongue against Boq's lips. There was a moment of terror when it looked like the Munchkinlander would push him away, but the moment passed, Boq squirmed, and Avaric felt a half-erection brush against his thigh. That surprised him, at least until he felt his own length responding, because then it ceased to matter.
He stood, hauling Boq and his erection up with him. The other boy moved towards him, with him, not wanting to break the kiss. Avaric fumbled his way indoors where no prying eyes could see anything that may or may not happen.
He threw Boq on the couch. In the millisecond that their lips parted company, the magic was lost. The village lad stared reproachfully, mournfully, at the aristocrat.
"You bastard," he whispered, "I'm not a pouf. I—like—Galinda!"
Avaric sat on his chest, bending his feet back to lay with Boq's hard cock. He brushed a finger against his friend's lips, open in a lovely 'O' and gazed in the shocked eyes.
"I'm not either. Gay, I mean. I'm not confessing my undying love for you, Boq, I'm asking you to wank with me."
"Wank?" the slighter male squealed.
"Yes, wank. As if you've never done it before, hah. You're not such a virgin, Boq, and don't you lie."
"With you?"
"I don't see the problem," Avaric said nonchalantly, "Its not like you find me disgustingly unattractive." To demonstrate his point, his big toe nudged the tip of Boq's dick, and the boy gasped.
"But…"
"It won't mean anything, not romantically," Avaric explained impatiently, "What's a good hearted wank between friends? Remember Boq, you told Galinda you had a social code to conform to—not to marry anyone too rich or expectant? I have one of those too. And the women off-limits to me include blokes. What do you say?"
There was hardly any consideration to be done. Boq was hard, he was aching for release. Avaric was so talented at what he was doing. Boq nodded. Avaric grinned. Over in Crage Hall, Doctor Dillamond made a mind boggling scientific breakthrough that would challenge the Wizard's doctrine and change the lives of Animals nationwide.
But we don't care so much about that as we do about the two attractive boys panting all over the taller one's sofa, do we? Avaric quickly undressed his companion, and his companion fumbled desperately with Avaric's buttons before ripping the shirt of in a fit of frustration. The savage need of the action sent throbbing pangs of arousal to Avaric's banana, as it were, and he kissed Boq again fiercely, maniacally, communicating without a single word a simple desire.
Boq was writhing around to get into a kneeling position. He broke the kiss, pursued it, broke it again and snuffled against Avaric's neck. Whiny moans kept issuing from him, sweet sounds heralding sex or something close enough to it.
His erection was not at all put off by the fact that it was a penis he was so amorously grinding against, that it was a stubble that was causing the itch on his chin, or that the kisses he was drowning in were powerful and masculine. Pleasure was pleasure, his length seemed to purr, pleasure was pleasure no matter the gender. And oh, was it pleasurable! Avaric's fingers wrapped around his dick, guided a hand to his own. Boq's warm digits encircled the sensitive skin and stroked it affectionately. Avaric.
"Bokky," Avaric whimpered, "Boq, oh, Boq—"
Boq grinned wolfishly at his wanton cries. A wolfish grin did not sit well on Boq, but Avaric was in such a state of lust that the Munchkinlander could've erupted into warts and he still would've found it sexy.
Dicks rubbed together. A few more strokes, a few more moans, a few more seconds. Voices went hoarse, bodies went stiff, orgasms went. Avaric made a mental note to clean the soda, Boq made a animalistic noise of contentment. Bodies went limp, breaths returned to normal, hearts slowed their pounding.
"We have definitely got to try that again," Avaric panted. Boq shoved him and fell into him. "Well, what now?"
The aristocrat grinned wickedly. "I suppose we get back to banana bonds."
"Avaric!"
"I meant tri center, di-electron bonds of course. What were you thinking, pervert?"
x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Heh. I love me.
What? People should contribute to this genre! –still can't believe the lack of Boq/Avaric smut-