[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
you're in my part of town again. A cheap card was pressed into his hand. Oh, the name on there's
Javier. That's me. Not as cool as Mago, but business, yeah?"
"One must be serious for business, indeed. He hoped Mago was sharing his smile and not offended by
it. He took the card, feeling the thin stock and raised print. This will do just fine."
Pulling a thin silver case from his pocket, Dieter returned the favor, handing over a thick vellum card with
what he was told was gold script with his name and number. And you must call me if you have the urge."
"Oh, wow. That's a great card. They made it to the bus station, the smell of fuel and oil strong. Do you
need me to stay?"
"No, no. I can get there from here. Thank you so much. He took Mago's strong hand in his and
squeezed, enjoying the last bit of contact, letting the scent settle into him. He would be able to find Mago
anywhere now.
"Okay. Goodnight, Guapo. Safe journey. Call me, we'll have lunch. I'm painting a Wendy's later this
week and they'll feed us for free!"
Bemused, Dieter felt the air move warmly as Mago left, making him wonder at himself.
Really, it wasn't at all like him to play with his food.
* * * *
Mago wandered along ritzy streets, looking in windows of frou-frou shops, and trying to come up with a
reason to dial the number on the card and call Dieter.
The dude was ... haunting.
It was creepy, really. The dude was fine long, silvery hair, great skin, muy Guapo but he wasn't the
out of the closet, moon around for fine guys type. That sorta shit got your ass kicked.
Hard.
Still, he was uptown in his best jeans, wasn't he?
Looking for a reason to talk to the dude.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Mago shook his head. Looking for a reason to talk to the uptown Guapoblind dude.
Shit.
He was still fingering the fancy embossed card and thinking when he thought he caught a glimpse up
ahead of long hair, bright in streetlights, and heard the tap, tap of a cane.
No way.
Fucking A.
Mago moved up a little closer, waiting for the man to walk near a lamp post. Hey, Guapo. You looking
for the bus stop again?"
Dieter, because it really was Dieter, stopped immediately, turning toward the sound of his voice.
"Mago! Wonderful. I was just thinking about having some dinner. Now I shall not have to eat alone."
Oh, cool. The guy remembered him just by his voice, too. Too cool.
He reached out, shook Dieter's hand. I could do dinner, sure. How you been, Guapo? I worried about
you getting home safe, glad to see you did."
"Oh, yes, thanks to my stalwart rescuer. A small smile creased Dieter's cheeks, and the man held onto
his hand for a few moments, the skin cool and dry.
"Yeah, well, it was my ... uh ... pleasure. He was blushing, getting a little hard. Maybe the fact the dude
was blind wasn't all bad. Where were you thinking about eating?"
"I was thinking about getting something on the way home, maybe Thai food, and eating there."
The cane got folded up, Dieter turning a bit more and pulling him close to tuck one hand through the
crook of his arm. Is that too forward? To ask you to come home with me?"
"Thai? Is it good? He gave Dieter's hand a pat. Where are we going, exactly? And if you don't mind
inviting me in, I don't mind coming."
"Yes it is, we're going toward Eighteenth, and I certainly would not ask if I minded."
They pressed together from shoulder to hip, and if he wasn't losing his mind, Dieter was kinda ... sniffing
him.
Weird.
Sorta sexy, in a way.
But weird.
"What all have you been doing today? Working hard?"
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Oh, I am afraid I was a man of leisure today. I slept in."
They stopped, Dieter pulling him to a halt and sniffing the air before pointing. The restaurant should be
just over there. Do you see it?"
"The Noodle House? Yeah. Neat dragon on the sign. He pushed the button on the light pole, waiting
for the walk signal. Jaywalking with a blind dude? Probably not cool. Sleeping in sounds good. I painted
a car dealership today."
"Really? What did you paint? Those fingers tucked into his elbow started moving, stroking him lightly.
"Goofy sixties flowers, smiley faces, paisleys. They're having a VW bug sale. Good money, too, and
the painting was inside and the head guy owned eighteen lots damned near fulltime work.
"Oh my. Well, so long as it pays the bills, I suppose. The light changed, the little chirping sound for the
blind starting, and Dieter began to walk. He wasn't sure who was leading who. You don't smell like
paint."
"I took a shower. He blushed again. Of course, he'd had to use Mama's rose soap, so he probably
smelled like a chica.
"You smell like flowers. Dieter turned a smile on him again, and though he couldn't see the eyes behind
the glasses, he could tell it was the real thing. But it does not overpower."
"Oh, good. I'd hate for you to gag cause I smelled like an old lady. Watch your step. They stepped up
onto the curb and headed for the restaurant.
"Thank you. And you could never smell like an old woman. You are ... spice. Musk. It is most enticing."
"Oh. He blushed all over, prick goingsproing . Damn. Thank you."
"You are welcome. They managed to get inside without him tripping them up, even with the tented
pants. He swore Dieter moved closer, hip and thigh rubbing against his, that sniffing thing happening
again, but it could have just been because of the good smells of the food.
"Uh, do you know what's good here? The food was named stuff that didn't make any sense. Pad this
and curry that.
"The Pad Thai is good if you like noodles. The spring rolls are excellent. And they have a coconut
shrimp that I particularly like. Shall I simply order for us? Is there anything you will not eat?"
"Nope. I'm not picky. At least I don't think I am. He grinned, hoping Dieter could hear it.
"Excellent. Dieter ordered, speaking quickly with the young woman across the counter, calling her by
name. He ordered the Pad stuff, and the shrimp, and some roll things and some kind of banana dessert in
coconut milk to go.
Mago pulled out a twenty and pressed it into Dieter's hand. There's my share. Can I get an ice tea to
go, too, please?"
Dieter didn't say a word about the money, simply tucked it away, and they got drinks and went to sit
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
down to wait for their food. Dieter slid into the booth beside him, rather than across from him, arm
brushing his just like before. Keeping contact.
It was arousing, aggravating because his stupid body kept responding, kept tingling and shit. Weird.
Man, winter's going to be here soon. The daylight sure is fading quick now."
"Yes. I confess, I find winter rather comforting. Maybe it is because I cannot see the light, only feel it, so
the dark suits me."
Man, any other guy got as close to him as this and he'd get twitchy, at least in public, but Dieter just
seemed ... natural.
"Well, Guapo, with your coloring? Your hair? Youglow in the night. I'd love to paint you."
Paint him naked, spread out on a black velvet cloth, hair shining...
Shit.
Down boy.
"Really? Oh, that would be lovely. I fear I do not photograph well. I turn stiff and formal. Sitting for [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl aikidobyd.xlx.pl
you're in my part of town again. A cheap card was pressed into his hand. Oh, the name on there's
Javier. That's me. Not as cool as Mago, but business, yeah?"
"One must be serious for business, indeed. He hoped Mago was sharing his smile and not offended by
it. He took the card, feeling the thin stock and raised print. This will do just fine."
Pulling a thin silver case from his pocket, Dieter returned the favor, handing over a thick vellum card with
what he was told was gold script with his name and number. And you must call me if you have the urge."
"Oh, wow. That's a great card. They made it to the bus station, the smell of fuel and oil strong. Do you
need me to stay?"
"No, no. I can get there from here. Thank you so much. He took Mago's strong hand in his and
squeezed, enjoying the last bit of contact, letting the scent settle into him. He would be able to find Mago
anywhere now.
"Okay. Goodnight, Guapo. Safe journey. Call me, we'll have lunch. I'm painting a Wendy's later this
week and they'll feed us for free!"
Bemused, Dieter felt the air move warmly as Mago left, making him wonder at himself.
Really, it wasn't at all like him to play with his food.
* * * *
Mago wandered along ritzy streets, looking in windows of frou-frou shops, and trying to come up with a
reason to dial the number on the card and call Dieter.
The dude was ... haunting.
It was creepy, really. The dude was fine long, silvery hair, great skin, muy Guapo but he wasn't the
out of the closet, moon around for fine guys type. That sorta shit got your ass kicked.
Hard.
Still, he was uptown in his best jeans, wasn't he?
Looking for a reason to talk to the dude.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Mago shook his head. Looking for a reason to talk to the uptown Guapoblind dude.
Shit.
He was still fingering the fancy embossed card and thinking when he thought he caught a glimpse up
ahead of long hair, bright in streetlights, and heard the tap, tap of a cane.
No way.
Fucking A.
Mago moved up a little closer, waiting for the man to walk near a lamp post. Hey, Guapo. You looking
for the bus stop again?"
Dieter, because it really was Dieter, stopped immediately, turning toward the sound of his voice.
"Mago! Wonderful. I was just thinking about having some dinner. Now I shall not have to eat alone."
Oh, cool. The guy remembered him just by his voice, too. Too cool.
He reached out, shook Dieter's hand. I could do dinner, sure. How you been, Guapo? I worried about
you getting home safe, glad to see you did."
"Oh, yes, thanks to my stalwart rescuer. A small smile creased Dieter's cheeks, and the man held onto
his hand for a few moments, the skin cool and dry.
"Yeah, well, it was my ... uh ... pleasure. He was blushing, getting a little hard. Maybe the fact the dude
was blind wasn't all bad. Where were you thinking about eating?"
"I was thinking about getting something on the way home, maybe Thai food, and eating there."
The cane got folded up, Dieter turning a bit more and pulling him close to tuck one hand through the
crook of his arm. Is that too forward? To ask you to come home with me?"
"Thai? Is it good? He gave Dieter's hand a pat. Where are we going, exactly? And if you don't mind
inviting me in, I don't mind coming."
"Yes it is, we're going toward Eighteenth, and I certainly would not ask if I minded."
They pressed together from shoulder to hip, and if he wasn't losing his mind, Dieter was kinda ... sniffing
him.
Weird.
Sorta sexy, in a way.
But weird.
"What all have you been doing today? Working hard?"
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Oh, I am afraid I was a man of leisure today. I slept in."
They stopped, Dieter pulling him to a halt and sniffing the air before pointing. The restaurant should be
just over there. Do you see it?"
"The Noodle House? Yeah. Neat dragon on the sign. He pushed the button on the light pole, waiting
for the walk signal. Jaywalking with a blind dude? Probably not cool. Sleeping in sounds good. I painted
a car dealership today."
"Really? What did you paint? Those fingers tucked into his elbow started moving, stroking him lightly.
"Goofy sixties flowers, smiley faces, paisleys. They're having a VW bug sale. Good money, too, and
the painting was inside and the head guy owned eighteen lots damned near fulltime work.
"Oh my. Well, so long as it pays the bills, I suppose. The light changed, the little chirping sound for the
blind starting, and Dieter began to walk. He wasn't sure who was leading who. You don't smell like
paint."
"I took a shower. He blushed again. Of course, he'd had to use Mama's rose soap, so he probably
smelled like a chica.
"You smell like flowers. Dieter turned a smile on him again, and though he couldn't see the eyes behind
the glasses, he could tell it was the real thing. But it does not overpower."
"Oh, good. I'd hate for you to gag cause I smelled like an old lady. Watch your step. They stepped up
onto the curb and headed for the restaurant.
"Thank you. And you could never smell like an old woman. You are ... spice. Musk. It is most enticing."
"Oh. He blushed all over, prick goingsproing . Damn. Thank you."
"You are welcome. They managed to get inside without him tripping them up, even with the tented
pants. He swore Dieter moved closer, hip and thigh rubbing against his, that sniffing thing happening
again, but it could have just been because of the good smells of the food.
"Uh, do you know what's good here? The food was named stuff that didn't make any sense. Pad this
and curry that.
"The Pad Thai is good if you like noodles. The spring rolls are excellent. And they have a coconut
shrimp that I particularly like. Shall I simply order for us? Is there anything you will not eat?"
"Nope. I'm not picky. At least I don't think I am. He grinned, hoping Dieter could hear it.
"Excellent. Dieter ordered, speaking quickly with the young woman across the counter, calling her by
name. He ordered the Pad stuff, and the shrimp, and some roll things and some kind of banana dessert in
coconut milk to go.
Mago pulled out a twenty and pressed it into Dieter's hand. There's my share. Can I get an ice tea to
go, too, please?"
Dieter didn't say a word about the money, simply tucked it away, and they got drinks and went to sit
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
down to wait for their food. Dieter slid into the booth beside him, rather than across from him, arm
brushing his just like before. Keeping contact.
It was arousing, aggravating because his stupid body kept responding, kept tingling and shit. Weird.
Man, winter's going to be here soon. The daylight sure is fading quick now."
"Yes. I confess, I find winter rather comforting. Maybe it is because I cannot see the light, only feel it, so
the dark suits me."
Man, any other guy got as close to him as this and he'd get twitchy, at least in public, but Dieter just
seemed ... natural.
"Well, Guapo, with your coloring? Your hair? Youglow in the night. I'd love to paint you."
Paint him naked, spread out on a black velvet cloth, hair shining...
Shit.
Down boy.
"Really? Oh, that would be lovely. I fear I do not photograph well. I turn stiff and formal. Sitting for [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]