Miles woke up to the smell of fresh, clean air. His eyes fluttered open, wondering where he was. The warm white covers reminded him of where he was; Mr. 42's house. The memories came to him in a whirlwind. He sat up and noticed Mr. 42 was already up and gone. He stretched his body and got up. He rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the sunlight through the translucent curtains. He got up, looking around for Mr. 42. His house was more beautiful in the warm morning sun. He went downstairs slowly, trying not to make a creek in the floorboards.
White, gold, and purple covered Mr. 42's house; the warmth only made it more majestic than it was already. Miles walked into the kitchen and through a door; leading to a greenhouse. He looked around at the flowers, their colors being a variety. It was a beautiful sight, blessing his eyes shortly after waking up. He didn't explore but admired his vision.
"Good morning, Miles," Mr. 42 said.
Miles turned his head, his eyes meeting Mr. 42's. He was leaning in the doorway, one leg over the other, and holding to what seemed to be a cup of something hot. He was wearing a white button-up shirt and loose jeans. The shirt and jeans were both unbuttoned and unzipped. It was an exotic sight, but Miles didn't care for it.
"Good morning, Mr. 42," Miles said, smiling.
Miles fully turned around; he had an innocent smile that tore apart Mr. 42. Mr. 42 blushed and put his head down, gripping his cup harder. Miles approached Mr. 42.
"I put your clothes in the washing machine so you can go to work," Mr. 42 said, collecting himself and looking Miles in the eyes, "in the meantime, I had an idea,"
"What do you have planned, sir?"
"I was thinking that maybe we could go out," Mr. 42 said, "get to know each other,"
"Like a date?" Miles said.
"Yeah, like a date," Mr. 42 said, "if not, I can just drive you home-"
"Nope, a date it is," Miles said, "do you have any clothes I can borrow?"
"Yeah, I have a few clothes in my room; you can style all you want," Mr. 42 said, rubbing Miles' shoulder.
"Thank you, Mr. 42!" Miles said, his tone cheerful
Miles walked past Mr. 42, but Mr. 42 stopped him. He grabbed Miles by the wrist and pulled him in for a kiss. He slipped a little tongue, but nothing as extreme as last night. They broke, and Miles returned to going upstairs. Miles' heart fluttered; his mind was constantly on Mr. 42. He entered the bedroom again, his mind flooding with memories from last night. Miles dug through the drawers to find his outfit. He wore a white tee with a purple button-up and black jeans. It was casual, but it fit the luxurious aesthetic Mr. 42 had. He looked around the bedroom for his shoes, eventually finding them several feet apart.
He slipped his shoes and sneaked a look at the time. 12:43. Around three hours until his shift. He went back downstairs and waited by the front door. Mr. 42 was walking down the hallway towards the front door, lost in his thoughts. He snapped out of it when he saw Miles, slightly blushing at the boy.
"You have style," Mr. 42.
"Thank you, sir," Miles said, looking down.
Mr. 42 had fixed himself, properly wearing clothes. He grabbed the keys that were hanging and unlocked the front door. They walked down the long pathway and got inside the car. Miles realized he had forgotten his backpack in Mr. 42's car. Unsure if anything was missing, he searched through it, specifically looking for a 100-dollar bill. Mr. 42 watched Miles try to hide his panic. Miles pulled out the money slightly and let out a sigh of relief as he buried it once again. Miles sat up and put his hands between his thighs. Mr. 42 turned on the car.
"You know, after last night," Mr. 42 said, looking to the side, "I owe you more than just a hundred,"
"What?" Miles said, a little shocked.
"You were amazing last night," Mr. 42 said; he started to drive.
"Really?" Miles said, slightly blushing, "but it was my first time,"
"Some people are just natural," Mr. 42 said, a smile creeping on his face, "you're one of those people,"
"Well, thank you, Mr. 42," Miles said, having a small smile.
Miles looked out the window, thinking about Mr. 42's words. He wasn't thinking of what Mr. 42 said but his voice. Something about Mr. 42's voice attracted Miles. It was all he wanted to hear last night. He smiled to himself, imagining him saying erotic things to him. It made him blush and bite his finger. His heart raced just thinking about him. He didn't know if it was lust or love. Mr. 42 glanced at Miles. He noticed the look of lust in his eyes.
"Thinking about me, and we haven't parted ways yet," Mr. 42.
"Uhm- I- I wasn't thinking about you, sir," Miles said, studdering over his words.
"You clearly were," Mr. 42 said, "I recognize that look of lust anywhere; it's hot on you,"
Miles didn't say anything, too embarrassed to say anything.
"What were you thinking," Mr. 42. said.
"Nothing of importance," Miles said.
"C'mon," Mr. 42 teased, "I've already seen your naked body; nothing else could be more embarrassing,"
Miles let out a groan and sunk into the seat.
"I was thinking about your voice, sir," Miles said, his face turning red hot, "and some lewd things that you would say,"
"Damn, usually I would have to pry for a couple of minutes," Mr. 42 said, "that's pretty hot,"
Miles let out a sigh as they drove in silence. He fiddled with his thumbs, bored out of his mind. Mr. 42 rid until he stopped and parked in front of a cafe. They got out and walked inside. It was your simple run-of-the-mill Starbucks. They walked inside and walked up to the counter.
"What are you going to order?" Mr. 42 asked.
"Probably a simple coffee, sir," Miles said.
The lady walked up to the counter.
"Hi, welcome to Starbucks, and how may I help you?" She asked.
"I'll get a venti caramel frappe," Mr. 42 said.
"I'll get a venti pineapple passion with lemonade, peach, classic, extra strawberry purée, no fruit, and blended," Miles said.
A slightly shocked face appeared on Mr. 42's face as the barista gave the total. He paid for it and gave his name; they went to sit by a window and sat across from each other.
"You know your Starbucks," Mr. 42 said.
"I come here often before work," Miles said, "something I can to myself, you know,"
"Yeah, I understand," Mr. 42.
"So, what's your name, sir?" Miles said, leaning in, "I mean- your words, not mine- but I've seen your naked body as well,"
"Technically, you didn't see my body because you were too busy burying your face in my sheets," Mr. 42 said.
"How could you tell when you were too busy staring at my ass?" Miles said, "You looked like you were in a trance, sir,"
"Alright now, not too much," Mr. 42 joked.
They laughed for a bit. They hopped around different topics to talk about, talking up a storm before the barista called Mr. 42 for their drinks. Mr. 42 got up and grabbed their drinks, giving Miles his drink. Miles was the first to sip; Mr. 42 watched the boy's throat move.
"Do you want some, sir?" Miles said, snapping Mr. 42 out of his trance.
"Uhm- no, I'm fine," Mr. 42 said.
"You had that trance look again," Miles said, "You have that look when you see something you want,"
"See, I would say something, but we're drinking," Mr. 42 said, smiling and sipping his drink.
Miles chuckled to himself and continued to drink.
"So, does everything you own come from the casino, sir?" Miles asked.
"Pretty much," Mr. 42 said, "I have insane luck there, so I'm going until I run out,"
"And when you do?"
"My uncle said he'll have a job for me," Mr. 42 said, "You don't plan to stay in the casino, right?"
"I don't see anything else for me in the future," Miles said, hunched and looking through the window.
"I can talk to my uncle about it," Mr. 42 said, "I think he can work something out,"
"Really?" Miles asked.
"Yeah, you have potential," Mr. 42 said before mumbling, "and I want you by my side,"
Miles heard it but decided to ignore it. He softly smiled as he took another sip.
"Have you ever visited the casino when you're not working?" Mr. 42 asked.
"No, I'm not interested in the casino besides working," Miles said.
"You should come with me," Mr. 42 said, "maybe my luck will be on your side,"
"I still have another two hours until my shift starts, so sure," Miles said.
They got up and left, bringing their drinks with them. They got in the car and started to drive to the casino. They listened to music on the way there, Miles singing along to whatever came on. He listened to the latest song all time, thanks to the casino playing it until it faded away. He didn't know the name, but he always knew the lyrics. They pulled into the Poker garage, parking in the same spot. They didn't get out immediately.
"Look, Miles," Mr. 42 said, turning to Miles, "I'll pay some more if you do something else,"
Miles had second thoughts, but he needed the money. He took a deep breath and sighed.
"What do you want me to do, sir," Miles said.
"I know you were a virgin, but have you ever given a bj?" Mr. 42 asked.
"A bj?" Miles asked, confusion written on his face.
Mr. 42 groaned, slightly irritated, but he wasn't blaming Miles for it.
"A blowjob," Mr. 42 said.
"Well, no," Miles said.
Miles put his drink in the cupholder in the door, and so did Mr. 42. Mr. 42 unzipped his pants and allowed Miles to take Mr. 42's dick out. Miles exhaled a hot breath and looked at Mr. 42 for instructions.
"Try not to use your teeth," Mr. 42 said, "Just your tongue and your throat, and slowly,"
Miles bent over, his head hovering over Miles' dick. He licked Mr. 42's tip and slowly shoved it in his mouth. Mr. 42 gasped slightly and watched as Miles began to bob his head. He bit his lip and sucked air through his teeth. He softly pushed Miles' head down, forcing him to take more. Miles gasped as Mr. 42's cock went down his throat. Mr. 42 cursed under his breath, letting small whimpers escape his voicebox. He caressed the back of Miles' head, feeling the hair and moving down to his neck. Miles shoved just a bit more before his gag reflex stopped him.
"Ah- fuck- don't be so hasty," Mr. 42 whispered, "You're doing great, babe,"
Miles slightly blushed at the pet name but listened to Mr. 42's advice. He pulled back. Miles stopped to catch his breath and took Mr. 42 dick out his mouth. He hovered over it as he broke the saliva string.
"What's wrong?" Mr. 42 asked.
"I have a request, sir," Miles said.
"Shoot me dead," Mr. 42 said.
"I-" Miles stated, "I want you to go rough with me,"
Miles swallowed a lump in his throat, praying that Mr. 42 would listen. Mr. 42 lifted Miles' chin to look at his face. Miles' face bared a pathetic yet lustful look. Mr. 42 enjoyed that look on Miles' face.
"If that's what you want, mi amor," Mr. 42 said.
Mr. 42 opened Miles' mouth and shoved his dick deep inside Miles' throat. Miles gagged but endured it. Mr. 42's cock spread Miles' throat, practically forcing Miles to breathe through his nose. Mr. 42 shoved Miles down until his lips were touching his balls. He kept Miles down, not moving his head but watching him adjust to the feeling of his cock down his throat. He thought it was cute seeing this person's tight throat adjust to his cock. He loved this feeling of power he had over Miles. He started to move Miles' head; hearing him gag was like hearing the voices of angels.
Miles grabbed the bottom of Mr. 42's shirt, gripping it tight. He felt tears fall down his cheek. Mr. 42 bit his lip, a groaning mess behind his mouth.
"Jesucristo, Miles," Mr. 42 groaned, "You're so- mierda~"
Mr. 42 released his load, making sure Miles took it all. Miles felt the hot liquid go down his throat, filling his stomach. Mr. 42 smushed Miles' head onto his cock harder. He forced Miles to drink every last bit of his salty cum. He softly lifted Miles off of his dick. Miles sunk into his seat as Mr. 42 put his dick away. He let out a shaky breath, grabbing his pants. He continued to face forward while looking at Mr. 42.
"We should probably head inside," Miles said, "Sir,"
"Yeah," Mr. 42 said.
They exited the car and grabbed their empty drinks to dispose of them in the trash. They entered the elevator and pushed the Poker Area button. They started to go up, staying silent and still processing what the fuck just happened. The elevator stopped to pick up someone from a different garage area. Miles moved over to stand by Mr. 42 while the man stood next to Miles. He was uncomfortably close to Miles and was clear to Mr. 42. Something like this often happened to Miles, so he tried not to make a huge fit. But something about this man, in particular, had an off feeling strolling down Miles' back. To make Miles more comfortable, Mr. 42 moved Miles to the other of him, effectively switching spots.
"I see someone has already claimed you," The man said.
"Excuse me?" Miles said, obviously pissed off, "Do you want to repeat that?"
"I see someone has already claimed your fine ass," The man said, "Shame it's this fella; don't you want a real man?"
"I already have a real man, thank you very much," Miles said, glaring at the man.
"Really?" The man said, "He looks like a twink,"
Miles inhaled and exhaled deeply.
"Cálmate, mi amor," Mr. 42 said.
"And you're Spanish," The man said, "Exotic,"
Miles put his hand in his pocket, grabbing the Taser. He kept his composure as the doors opened to the Poker Area. Miles tried to leave quickly, but the man grabbed his arm.
"C'mon, I can show-"
He stopped talking once Miles shoved the Taser in his arms. Mr. 42 stopped to admire the fury in Miles' eyes. The man collapsed on the elevator floor. Before leaving, Miles pressed all the buttons on the elevator and exited with Mr. 42 following behind. Before he left, Mr. 42 spat on the man and let the elevator close the doors. He caught up to Miles and put his hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, are you okay?" Mr. 42 asked, a tone of concern in his voice.
"I need a shot of tequila," Miles said, "I've should've tased him more,"