Methods

by Hg Muffin-Stuff

Chapter 4: Preferences

Squidward opened his eyes a crack. There was Squilliam, bath towel around his waist, surveying himself in front of his bureau mirror. And Squidward? He looked down, to see sheets haphazardly strewn about the bed and intertwined with Squilliam's abandoned robe, as well as the robe Squidward had donned the previous night. No towel around his naked waist, though.

'What did we do?' Squidward thought to himself. 'Oh, right - I pitched him onto the ground and begged him for sex.'

Squidward closed his eyes again and remembered the way Squilliam touched his face in the alley and said, "Don't be shy. Sweetie, I know. Okay? I know."

"I should have treated you better. I must say I really do love you."

"I'll cherish the time we're together as if it's our last."

Squilliam's soft words and kind touch lingered in his head. How they'd locked suction cups and massaged each other's foreheads, how he'd once whispered that he'd always be there for Squidward.

'It's not so bad. Squilliam's good in bed, anyway.'

It wasn't just 'not so bad'. It was quite good. Squidward giggled slightly, giddily. Squilliam. How many years had it been?

"Oh, Squiddy darling, you're awake!" said Squilliam sweetly, now in his robe. "Here, put this on," he said, handing Squidward a box. "I had it tailored for you last night. It's a very fine suit, cost a fortune." He chuckled. Squilliam always did love a good opportunity to flaunt his wealth and the fabulous lifestyle he bought with it.

Gingerly undoing the strings around the box, he gasped upon sight of it and exclaimed, "Manta Raymani, oh, Squilliam, this is fine." He kissed Squilliam's cheek quickly yet passionately.

"Well," Squilliam said, bashfully batting his eyelashes at Squidward, "I do what I can." He sat beside his old flame, who was currently too awestruck to put on his new outfit. "Aren't you going to try it on?"

"Oh, sure!" Squidward said, daintily grasping at the dove grey pants. "I've never had anything quite this fancy," he said, admiring the light grey double-breasted jacket of six buttons, a narrow, peaked lapel with a high gorge. Matching vest, gently folded cravat and diamond-studded tie pin, jacket sleeve with four functional buttons, two slightly off-center. A belt with slick silver buckle. White single cuff shirt, sapphire studded cuff links, detachable wing collar. Truly marvelous.

"Well? Are you or aren't you?" prodded Squilliam. Squidward blushed. "Squidward, you're not thinking about the suit anymore, are you?"

"Yes, I'm not," he said, his mind distracted as he smiled and laughed giddily.

"Squiddy...do you remember what happened last night?"

"Oh, sure I do. Wanna kiss me?"

"Mmm, yes, I do, but you need to understand something. Last night, when we were getting ready to have sex, it occurred to me that you'd just tried to kill yourself that night."

"Great thinking, Squillie...don't hold your breath waiting for that Nobel Prize."

Squilliam narrowed his eyes and resisted the temptation to return with a zinger about Squidward's failed artistic career, given the circumstances of their meeting. "And I thought, 'well, he's depressed, so he might be doing this out of loneliness and desperation.'"

Squidward blinked. "So how was it?"

Squilliam gave Squidward's feet an annoyed tap. "Idiot! I didn't fuck you. You were too fucked up." Vulnerable. That was the word. His Squiddy had been extremely helpless, and vulnerable - and desirable. Squilliam shook the thoughts from his mind. It had taken an iron will to keep him from taking up Squidward's offer, particularly as he wasn't really that drunk and he had been hot and oh so willing. Was still hot and oh so willing. At least he was hot.

Squidward sniffled back the tears that began to well up in his eyes. Squilliam had, out of consideration of his fragile psyche, delayed gratification, even though he hadn't been certain that it was necessary to do so. Even so, he had taken that precautionary measure for Squidward's sake.

Why cause Squilliam frustration for his good deed by telling him he still wanted it and it was all for nothing?

"You did the right thing, Squilliam, because I really would've regretted it." Squidward put a hand on Squilliam's shoulder and kissed his cheek. Squidward swooned slightly and fell back against Squilliam's bed.

Several minutes passed and Squilliam returned from his shower. "Oh. You're still...here," said Squilliam, staring at Squidward's nude body lying on his bed.

"What about Squilliam's Suicide Watch? Or was that just a line to get me into bed that backfired when your conscience turned on - for once something else of yours working besides your libido?"

"Oh, right. That. Sometimes I forget how fragile you can be, Squiddy. I have a hard time thinking of the fiery, won't-take-shit-from-no one Squidward Tentacles as suicidal. Are you feeling okay now?"

"Just the same I guess," he said, nudging the box that held his new suit with one of his tentacles.

Squilliam jumped onto the bed, on top of Squidward, hugging him tightly. "Please don't leave me Squiddy! You're so beautiful and I love you and I don't know what life would be without you around."

"Squilliam, what the hell is wrong with you? I didn't say I was going to kill myself, calm down."

"If you seriously planned to kill yourself now, you wouldn't tell me, now would you?"

Squidward rolled his eyes. "I suppose not."

"Squidward..." He left the name hanging between them as he leaned inward to kiss his treasure, who still tasted vaguely like cork grease. Squidward pulled at his tongue, Squilliam exploring Squidward's mouth in half-moon scoops and tender teasing nibbles. He withdrew, touched lips to ear, and said, "You want to give me the best sex of my life?"

Squidward nodded. "I want you so bad, honey."

Straddling Squidward's chest, he pulled off and tossed aside his robe in a single motion as he said, "You know how I like it, doncha Squiddy?"

"Nice and gentle, smooth as silk."

Squilliam gave Squidward a teasing lick to his neck. "That's a good boy," he said, sliding his back against Squidward's chest, reaching his arms backward to grip Squidward's ass with suction cupped hands. "Now make me squeal like nobody's business."

To be honest, Squidward was the only one who really knew how to deliver for Squilliam. Sure, others could make him orgasm, and yeah, some were really good in bed. But nobody else really could satisfy him with the same transcendent passion as Squidward could. The best part was, each time with Squidward was utterly unique. He didn't appear to rely on a trademark move, either that or he had so many that it was impossible to tell.

Squidward was the only one he'd ever really been completely honest with about his preferences, even if it had taken years to get there. Among his other lovers, he had a reputation of liking it rough, of topping, and most of all, always getting exactly the thing he wants.

"Squilliam, ooh, little faster, please?"

"Sure baby!" 'Damn it, Squiddy, you're riding me ragged!'

"Woo! Now it's Ah! A party!" Squidward began to giggle uncontrollably.

'He sure seems happy. I love hearing him laugh like that,' Squilliam thought, stroking Squidward's thighs with an intermittent tenderness as he gasped through intensifying thrusts.

Maybe not completely honest.