"Lasange?" the waitress asked, setting down the pasta dish in front of Bill. She took two plates of food off the hands of another waitress and put them in front of Tom and Andreas respectively. The diner was quiet, just the three of them and a bunch of other old people who seemed to have no idea who Bill and Tom were. The waitresses left and they ate their food quietly. Bill was playing with his pasta and he looked pale, paler than he normally was.
"You okay?" Tom asked. Andreas looked up at Tom and then at Bill, who nodded slowly and took a bite of his food. Tom watched him eat, worried.
"Do you want water?"
"No, I'm fine," Bill replied, taking another bite. He stopped eating for a while, then covered his mouth with his hand and rushed to the bathroom, throwing the napkin on his lap aside.
"Crap, he's sick," Tom said. Andreas stared after Bill and then at Tom. He cast a glance to the side at Andreas, who had a bit of sauce on his bottom lip. He felt the urge to lunge forward and lick it off Andreas's lips but resisted, turning away and calling for a waitress instead. She sashayed towards them, a pad of paper and a pen in her hands, smiling at Tom. That young chick was a fangirl, obviously.
"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice seductive on purpose. Andreas wanted nothing less that to rip her weave out of her hair. Tom would have liked that.
"Can we have some water?" Andreas asked before Tom could say anything. The waitress nodded and went off to get it, returning within moments. Tom didn't pay any attention to her and rested his elbow on the table instead, picking his fork up again to continue eating. He felt something snake up his thigh and realized it was Andreas's hand.
"What are you doing?" he asked. Andreas shushed him. He pretended to not realize anything even though his left hand was barely two inches away from Tom's zipper. Tom sat frozen in his seat, knowing what was coming and to be honest, the anticipation was killing him. Andreas jerked his hand upwards suddenly so it was right on top of his zipper. Tom held his breath to prevent himself from gasping when he felt Andreas unbuttoning and unzipping his pants.
"Pretend to eat," he told Andreas through his teeth, and Andreas picked his fork up with his other hand, sliding his hand into Tom's pants and starting to feel him through his boxers. Tom found it harder to focus on eating with what Andreas was doing, and Bill chose that time to come out of the bathroom, looking sickly. Andreas slowed down slightly so Tom could talk properly.
"Do you want to leave now?" there was no missing the hint of disappointment in his voice. Bill shook his head.
"It's okay, I think I feel better now, and I'm hungry," he said, sitting back down and taking a drink out of his glass of water. He held his fork and speared a peace of meat on the end of it, placing it on his tongue perfectly. Sometimes Tom couldn't stand Bill's extreme table manners but that was the last thing on his mind at that moment. Andreas was still going painfully slowly, and Tom silently wished he would pick up the pace.
"So how's the food?" Bill asked.
"It's good," Andreas replied, choosing that moment to grab Tom's crotch tightly. Tom gasped and spilt some of his spaghetti on his shirt. Bill stared at him questioningly and Andreas pretended to roll his eyes, letting go of Tom gently.
"Lucky it's black right?" Tom hastily tried to cover up, grabbing some tissue out of the box and trying to wipe away the stain. He dropped it onto his lap, right above where Andreas's hand was resting for a while. Andreas rolled his eyes again and picked a napkin up with his other hand. He used it to wipe the food off of Tom's shirt slowly. Bill looked at them both suspiciously and went back to eating. Andreas prolonged cleaning Tom's shirt, before finally folding the napkin in half again and placing it on Tom's lap, over his hand. Tom had already picked up the piece of used tissue and put it on the side of a table.
Tom gently nudged Andreas's foot with his own, pleading for him to continue. Andreas took his hand away and wiped it on Tom's left thigh, before brining it back up to the table. Tom stomped him on the foot discreetly, or at least, he thought he did.
"What the fuck, Tom? What was that for?" Bill cried out. Tom's eyes widened.
"Sorry! I...er...thought I saw something?" he replied, trying to cover up. Andreas was sniggering. Bill didn't look convinced.
"You're acting very weird today," he said. Andreas's quiet giggles turned into full blown laughter and Tom wanted nothing but to shoot him at that very moment. He looked at the mirror to the side of them and noticed how red his face was. He realized then how undeniable horny he was as well.
"Uhm, bathroom," Tom mumbled, wretching the napkin off his lap and running to the men's washroom. Bill and Andreas stared after him, Bill utterly confused.
"Sometimes I don't feel like his twin brother," he sighed. Tom half ran into a cubicle and shut the door behind him, leaning on it and sliding downwards till he hit the floor. He stroked himself several times through the fabric of his jeans, then began to unbutton them. Any motherfucker couldn't deny how taken over with lust he was as he slid the needless material off.
"Damn Andreas," he thought, as he fapped to an orgasm on the grimy floor of the diner bathroom. He leant his head back on the door once he was done, letting his breathing slow down and return to normal. He pulled out some toilet paper to clean himself up, put his pants back on, and flushed the toilet before leaving the cubicle. Tom examined himself in the bathroom mirrors. Nothing unusual. He looked, possibly happier but it wasn't anything that couldn't have been attributed to something other than masturbating. He walked out of the bathroom and towards the table, where Bill and Andreas were waiting for him. Andreas had a sly smirk playing on his face and Bill, an expression of worry.
"I'm fine," Tom said before Bill could ask him, and glared at Andreas as he sat back down on his seat. He felt something snake up his thigh again and was about to swat Andrea's hand away, just as Andreas buttoned his jeans up for him. He'd forgotten to do that in his haste to leave that disgusting bathroom.