Twenty minutes before the plane was due to touch down in Toronto the pilot announced their final approach and that all seats must be returned to the full upright position, tray-tables stowed and all glasses and other service items collected. As Tyler was still asleep, he never heard this announcement. After the steward collected the glasses from the small first class cabin, he came back to make sure that the seats and tables were in the proper position for landing. First he asked the by now somewhat inebriated older man next to Tyler to put his tray-table back up. He grumbled a little, but did as he was told as the steward gently shook Tyler's shoulder to wake him up so he could bring his seat fully upright.
The plane was landing about ten minutes early. While most of the passengers were happy about this, all it meant to Tyler was that his layover, which was to be over three and a half hours as it was, would be that much longer. Still, Tyler smiled and thanked the steward for telling him they would arrive early.
The steward was able to tell that Tyler wasn't really happy about the news, but there wasn't anything he could really say one way or another. He just smiled at Tyler in a way that he hoped would be a little comforting, and told him that he hoped he would enjoy the rest of his trip. He put his hand on Tyler's shoulder and squeezed gently as he wished the boy well.
Once he had gone, the man next to him leaned over and asked, "Doesn't it disgust you for such an obvious faggot touch you like that?"
Tyler turned to look at the man, but leaned away from him a little at the same time. "No," he replied and then, spurred by annoyance, added. "It's certainly not as bad as the stench of that liquor on your breath."
The man gave a dismayed snort and turned his attention to the window to watch the ground as the plane made its landing. His drunkenness increased his normally suppressed prejudices. Who was this little punk to rebuke him like that? 'He probably likes that queer touching him and smiling at him like that. Hell, he's probably one of them too,' the man thought. But at least he kept his thoughts to himself.
Tyler continued to lean to the far side of his seat away from the man. Tyler hadn't been kidding when he insulted the man's breath. The odor of the cheap scotch really did smell foul. As soon as the plane pulled up to the gate and the 'Fasten Seat Belts' sign went out, Tyler grabbed his backpack from under the seat in front of him and moved toward the door. The faster he could get away from the fat, stinky old bigot the better.
After Drake drew the curtains over the sliding glass doors at the back of his apartment, he turned to look at the two boys on his sofa. The giggling had stopped, and the reason was obvious: Tyler and Oliver were lip-locked. At some point, both boys had managed to kick off their shoes and socks. Tyler was still on the bottom, with Oliver lying on top of him, belly-to-belly. Oliver's legs were bent at the knees, his bare feet wiggling about in the air, his toes curled.
Drake went upstairs and got a couple large towels from his linen closet. If things were going to possibly get messy in the living room, he was going to take steps to protect his upholstery. Towels or bed linens could be easily washed, but not sofa cushions.
Drake was only upstairs for a few moments, and on his way down the stairs he had a good view of the two boys on his sofa. They had made a substantial amount of progress in the time he was gone. Oliver was still lying on top of Tyler, but his jeans were pushed down to his knees and his boxers to just under the globes of his butt. It looked like Tyler's pants were part way down as well, but from his angle, and with Oliver on top of him it was difficult for Drake to tell. When Drake got downstairs into his living room and next to the boys, he was able to see that Tyler's pants were in fact almost all the way off his ass. And the red undies he'd been dancing in at the bar were gone... That's when it hit him - Oliver had been wearing little white bikini briefs when they were dancing - not the boxers he had on now. They must have changed when they went into the back room. That also explained where they had disappeared to during the first set. That must have been when Tyler put on the red bikinis he had been wearing.
Drake slapped Oliver lightly on his butt and told the boys to get up for a moment. "Before things get too out of hand, I want to put something over the sofa," he explained.
Oliver rolled off of Tyler toward the back of the sofa, his cock sticking out stiff and laughed a little. "Yeah, I bet you want to put something over the sofa and it won’t just be a fucking towel," he chuckled.
Drake tossed one of the towels over his head, covering him. "Yeah, but for now just spread these towels out so you don't make too big a mess."
Tyler finally spoke. "I thought you said you had some good shit for us. I'd kinda like to smoke a fatty."
Oliver was already up off the sofa, ready to spread the towels out over the upholstery. He reached down and grasped the base of his hard dick, waving it at Tyler. "Get down and smoke on this 'fatty'," he said.
Tyler slipped off the sofa and onto his knees. The effects of the ecstasy had completely disarmed whatever inhibitions he might have had and he was open to any suggestion. He slid off the sofa and knelt in front of Oliver in a way not entirely unlike what he had done on the dance floor earlier. The first thing he did was pull off Oliver's pants, just as he had done before. This time he pulled Oliver's underwear off with them as well.
Oliver tossed the towel back to Drake as Tyler's face moved slowly toward his stiff penis. He looked down at Tyler at nearly the same moment Tyler looked up at him. There was a question in Tyler's eyes as he looked up. It wasn't 'Do I have to?' so much as 'Is it alright if I do?' Oliver gave him a nod and Tyler reached up to take Oliver's hardness in his hand, pulling it down away from Oliver's body. Then he slipped the head inside his mouth.
Oliver woke in the morning and his head was swimming. He didn't have the slightest clue where he was, but he knew it wasn't his bedroom. But he was in a bedroom and a bed - a large bed - and he wasn't alone. There were two other naked men there with him. He couldn't recall very much of what had happened the previous evening, but he could tell it was now sometime during the next day from the light peeking in through the curtains that covered the window. There was still a fog in his brain from the alcohol and drugs he had consumed the night before that kept him from being certain of his surroundings. Oliver wasn't used to that, he normally didn't let himself get too out of control when he was on the prowl. One thing he did know - he needed a bathroom, and he needed it now.
There were two doors in the room, he could tell that much in the dim light as he climbed out of the bed. One was obviously a closet and the other led to a hallway. He found the bathroom just a few feet down the hall from the bedroom he had been sleeping in. Oliver sat on the toilet and let go. When he looked down into the bowl he saw that there was some blood mixed in with his stool, surely a result of the previous night's sexual adventures; adventures that he wasn't quite able to remember at that moment.
His butt was certainly sore; he must have taken a pounding, or poundings. That wasn't all that was sore though, his balls ached, as did his legs. There were two other guys in the bed with him when he got up, and he was struggling to remember who they were and what they had done. There must have been some sexual acrobatics going on from the way he felt. Then slowly, as he sat and concentrated, the events of the previous evening started to come into focus for him. He remembered clearly going to The Cavern to dance in their Friday 'teen evening' - an event where teen boys, sixteen and older, were encouraged to dance, often shirtless and sometimes in nothing but their underwear. There were a few who sometimes even danced part of the evening wearing nothing but a thong. Oliver hadn't gotten quite that bold yet himself. He remembered that last night he had finally decided to get down to just little bikini briefs instead of his usual boxers.
Then, as the clouds continued clearing from his mind, Oliver remembered meeting Tyler, the cute Emo with the coal-black hair. He recalled getting Tyler to come up and dance with him and the other boys, getting a look at his lithe, almost sculptured body in the dressing rooms and the passionate kisses they had shared at the club. He also remembered finally that it had been a near record night for the tips he'd received from his dancing at the club - the only payment the teen dancers got.
Finally he remembered riding back to the apartment in the van. He and Tyler had been making out on the sofa when the guy who took them home made them get up so he could cover the sofa with some towels. Then Tyler had taken his dick into his mouth. And that's the last thing Oliver could remember. He used the bottle of mouthwash he found by the sink to rinse away the cotton mouth last night's partying had left him with.
When he'd finished in the bathroom, Oliver decided to look around. For one, he wanted to locate his clothes. He wasn't as comfortable walking around naked now, the proverbial morning after. He remembered Tyler pulling his pants off him by the sofa, so he figured he'd find his clothes there. But when he got downstairs, his shoes and socks were under the coffee table, as were Tyler's, but none of their other clothes were to be found.
Oliver went back upstairs to the bathroom. He started to just pull a bath towel off the rack to wrap around himself, but decided to take a quick shower first. He had just finished shampooing his hair when he saw a figure moving in the bathroom through the translucent shower curtain. Oliver pulled the curtain back a couple inches and peeked out. Tyler was sitting on the toilet, in much the same position as he had been in a short time earlier.
Sensing he was being watched, Tyler looked up and saw Oliver looking out of the shower at him. He turned beet red, but smiled at Oliver none the less. Tyler had never been caught in quite this position before, and found it the most embarrassing situation he had ever been in. Even Corey had never seen him sitting on the toilet taking a crap, and in his embarrassment, he kept his hands covering his lap.
Oliver thought this was kind of cute, and he could sense Tyler's embarrassment. "Come join me when you're done. I'll wash your back if you'll wash mine."
"Oh... Okay..." Tyler stuttered, and then he smiled up at Oliver again.
A few moments later, Tyler slid the curtain aside and stepped into the shower with Oliver. He washed Oliver's back first, and both boys were silent as he did this. It was only after they had shifted positions and Oliver was soaping up Tyler's back that the silence was broken. "Do you have any idea what happened to our clothes?" Oliver asked.
The question caused Tyler to straighten, alarmed. "What do you mean?" he asked as he turned to face Oliver.
"I remember that we got undressed in the living room last night, but not really anything after that. All that's there now is our shoes and socks. I couldn't find anything else," Oliver told him.
"I can't remember much after we left the club," Tyler admitted. "I guess I might have had too much to drink." He had a worried look on his face as he thought for a moment. "Do you even have any idea where we are?"
"Yeah, pretty much. We can't go wandering around outside wearing only shoes and socks, we'll get arrested. It'll be pretty hard to explain what happened to our clothes too."
Oliver could see that Tyler was close to panic after he said that. Oliver didn't have any experience with this sort of thing, but he knew instinctively that he should do something to try to calm his new friend. He reached out and pulled Tyler into him, hugging him in a deep, comforting way. At first Tyler was shaking a little, but after a moment he steadied and it seemed to Oliver that he would be okay.
Oliver turned off the water, drew back the shower curtain and stepped out onto the bathmat next to the shower. He pulled one of the towels off the rack and opened it, holding it invitingly in his outstretched arms. Tyler gave him a shy smile and stepped into it. Oliver dried him gently, and then wrapped the towel around his waist, tucking the top edge in so it would hold itself up. Once he had done that, he took the remaining bath towel, quickly dried himself and wrapped it around himself as he had done for Tyler.
Oliver took Tyler's hand and started to lead him out of the bathroom. "Come on," he said. "Our clothes have to be here somewhere. Let's go find them."
Tyler started to follow him, but then stopped, pulling Oliver back toward him at the bathroom door. Oliver was being strong and supportive for him. That was something Tyler really needed right now and he had to tell him how he was feeling. "Oliver," he started. "I just need to tell you..."
Oliver reached out with his free hand and put his finger to Tyler's lips, signaling him to stop talking. "I know... You don't need to say it. And call me Ollie, my friends do, and I'd like to call you a friend."
Tyler looked down and gave a bashful grin. Finally he looked back up at the boy he'd met just the night before. "Thanks Ollie," he said. "I really appreciate that. Now let's go find our clothes."
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