His white-knuckled grip on his car keys tightened even further as he finally stepped out into the car park and pulled his hands out of his pockets.
He let out a sigh of relief when he saw that his car was still there. Hands shaking with an overload of adrenaline, Scott unlocked the car door and slid behind the wheel. It was only when he pulled the door closed that the full force of his evening’s activities hit him like a punch to the gut. There was no way in hell it had been Joe on the other side of the glory hole.
* * * * *
Opening the passenger side door, Joe bent down and peered into Scott’s car.
“What the—!” Scott cut himself off as he apparently realised who Joe was.
Joe grinned as he folded his tall frame into the small space, but his smile didn’t last long. Whoever had sat in the passenger seat last had obviously been under three feet tall. After a couple of seconds groping around beneath his seat, Joe found the mechanism that allowed him to slide the seat back.
Finally able to breathe without his ribs hitting into his knees, Joe turned in his seat and ran his eyes over Scott in a quick but thorough inspection. “You don’t seem particularly happy to see me,” he observed, keeping his tone casual and conversational.
Scott didn’t say a word. He just stared at Joe as if he’d never set eyes on him before.
The flickering neon light lent a strange glow to Scott’s face and made him appear even more freaked out by the world than he usually was. Joe was used to Scott finding it difficult to look him in the eye; he wasn’t quite so accustomed to Scott staring at his crotch as if he thought Joe’s cock might spontaneously jump out and do a little dance for him.
He reached out to put his hand on Scott’s knee.
“I w-wouldn’t if I w-were you.”
Joe raised an eyebrow, and kept his hand hovering an inch above Scott’s leg. “Feeling inclined to throw a punch, are you?”
Scott opened his eyes very wide as he shook his head. “Of c-c-course not!”
“Then what?” Joe asked.
Scott glanced down at his jeans. “The floor in there was r-really filthy. You don’t want to p-put your hand on—”
Joe put his hand firmly on Scott’s knee. Curling his fingers over the joint, Joe made sure his hand covered any bit of denim that might have come into direct contact with the floor. “I’ll decide where I want to put my hands.”
“I…” Scott blinked at Joe’s hand, apparently more confused than ever.
“There’s no fun in dirtying up a nice, clean-cut guy if you’re going to be afraid to touch him afterwards, is there?”
Scott didn’t laugh at Joe’s teasing. He turned his attention from his knees back to Joe’s crotch. He seemed fascinated by his fly. Joe glanced down. There was nothing special about hisjeans. He couldn’t even see the line of his cock through them that clearly, now that he was soft.
Joe lifted his attention to Scott’s face. He’d planned to tease Scott about enjoying getting down and dirty in a rough pub, telling him he hadn’t needed an order, just an excuse, but that plan obviously needed to change. “You took a while to get started in there,” he offered, as an opening bid toward working out what the hell was going on.
The neon light outside was yellow. It made the blush that rushed to Scott’s cheeks appear strangely orange. “I um…I w-was trying to work out if it w-was yours,” he mumbled.
Joe’s frown deepened. “What?”
Scott cleared his throat. “The lighting in there wasn’t g-great. I…I was trying to work out if I’d be going down on you or—”
“Do you really think I’d have ordered you to go in there if there wasanychance that someone else would be on the other side of the hole?” Joe demanded. He was aware that his grip on Scott’s knee had tightened rapidly, but he couldn’t seem to relax his fingers. The idea of Scott’s mouth wrapping around anyone else’s cock…
Scott shrugged. “Some guys g-get off on things like that, don’t they?” he asked. “Sharing their…their…Sharing the m-men they’re having s-s-sex with, with other men?”
“I don’t,” Joe bit out. Unable to shake the image from his imagination, he felt more anger flooding into him by the moment.
Scott hesitated several times, before he actually managed to speak. “It c-could have been a j-j-joke or something…” He shrugged again, the movement jerky and unsure of itself. Scott tried to straighten his leg, but Joe couldn’t make himself let go of his knee.
“You’ve got a bloody strange sense of humour if you think that would have been funny…” Joe trailed off. His gaze narrowed. Scott wasn’t that kind of guy. He wouldn’t have thought that was in the least bit amusing. He wouldn’t have played that kind of “joke” on anyone.
Forget anger, ice cold fury poured into Joe’s veins. He tightened the hand that wasn’t on Scott’s knee into a fist. “Who?” he demanded.
Scott blinked, looking more innocent than ever—as if he really didn’t have a clue what Joe was talking about.
