29Larson couldn't believe it. His eyes shot wide, staring at his friends closed eyelids. It took him a moment to snap back into reality.
"James! What are you-" Larson said, pushing James away and rubbing his mouth with his forearm.
James opened his eyes as much as his drunkenness would allow. He sat back, leaned against the bar. "So?" He cooed, adding a sultry smirk.
"What?" Larson looked confused at James.
"Job scouting." James pulled out a twenty from his jeans and flicked it so that it landed on the bar in front of Larson. "Come on. Let's go," he beckoned with his fingers in a 'come hither' motion.
"Are you crazy?" Larson stood up. "What are you thinking? Who are you? You're not the James I know."
"Just your James with a little added," he shook an empty beer glass, "courage."
Larson shook his head.
"Is that a no go on the job?"
"I could never – not when you're like this," Larson whispered.
"So I'm not good enough." James said bluntly.
"I never said-"
"But it's what you mean." James bit his lip. "Fine. I'll go find someone else." He turned his back on Larson and strut out of the bar.
Larson stood, frozen to his spot.
"I'd go after him if I were you."
"What?" Larson wheeled around to find Jerry cleaning a glass next to him.
"It's obvious that your friend is a lousy drunk, I mean, he can't hold even a little bit of alcohol well." Jerry put the glass down and looked Larson dead in the eye. "If you ever want to see your friend again, go after him right now."
Larson nodded. "For the drinks," he pointed to the twenty that James had thrown down. Then rushed out of the bar after James.
"Go luck to you," Jerry called after him.
~o/o~
Outside, Larson shouted James' name. "James! James! Where are you?" He looked both ways down the street and couldn't see any sight of him. He ran across the street, shouting, "James! James! Ja-" He froze. He had spotted him.
James was leaning against the wall of the pottery shop across the street from the bar with two men standing in front of him.
As Larson drew closer, he heard their conversation.
"So how much for one night?" The taller man said smoothly.
"How much are you willing to pay for me?" James leaned more into the wall, thrusting out his hips so the men got a look at the growing bulge growing his pants.
"You said you'll do anything?" The shorted man said, eagerly spying James' crotch.
"Yeah." James eyes drooped farther. "Anything at all."
"James what are you doing!?" Larson shoved both guys to the side. When he saw James drunk look up close, he almost cried.
"What do you care?" James shot back. "You won't do it with me so I'll find someone who will."
"No. You shouldn't sell yourself like this." Larson clasped James' shoulders and shook him.
"Heh. Coming from the guy who's been selling himself all year." James purred as he leaned into Larson. "Or do you want to join us?"
"No," Larson hugged James.
"Then let us at him!" The short man shouted from behind them.
Larson turned around and saw the men who he had forgotten all about. "You can't have this one," he said calmly. He turned around and bent down on one knee. "Come on," he said to James.
"What?" James stared down at him.
"Get on."
"No." James crossed his arms.
"But you can't seem to stand on your own."
"I can to."
Larson stood up and faced James. He raised one hand and lifted James' chin with it. James was captivated by Larson's dark green eyes. So captivate, in fact, that he didn't notice Larson drawing nearer until their lips touched. Fierce and heavy, Larson's lips pressed James to the wall. Larson leaned a thigh into James' crotch without letting go of his lips. His other hand ran down James' spine, hugging him closer. Larson felt his own cock stiffening, but didn't stop and instead pressed harder into James. Finally, he let their lips part, and James gasped for breath, falling into Larson's arms as his only support to standing upright. Larson didn't let more than an inch come between their lips.
James panted and opened his eyes to see that Larson had barely moved away. Larson breathed on James' lips as his tongue slithered out and licked them but just barely. James eyelids sagged, almost closing as Larson removed his arms. James slid down the wall, catching himself with a hand on the ground so his face wouldn't smash into the pavement.
Larson looked down coldly. "Like I said, you obviously can't seem to stand on your own."
James looked up, using all the effort he had to nod before falling to one side and passing out on the ground.
Larson sighed and turned to the two men standing off a foot or so. "That means he can't do it with you. Not now or ever." Then he bent down, picked up James in his arms, and started walking home.
~o/o~
"Oh my goodness!" James' mom shrieked when she answered the door and saw her son in the arms of Larson.
"Hello, Mrs. MacGrame," Larson laughed nervously. "I'm afraid this is my fault. I got him angry about something and he had one too many beers."
"Well," Mrs. MacGrame tried to stay cool. "I guess I can't keep you boys from drinking. Bring him inside dearie."
Larson obliged. "Thank you. I'll just put him in his bed." He walked away before James' mom could say anything else. When he had successfully carried James up the stairs and placed him on his bed, Larson sat down on the edge of the bed. "What did I ever do to deserve this, huh?" He pushed a golden stand out of James' face. Larson smiled as he stared at James sleeping. "Of course you won't remember what happened." He bent his head and kissed James gently on the lips. "So it'll be our little secret." He stood and went to walk out of the room, but he stopped in the doorway. "Course, I wouldn't mind if you did remember it all," he whispered as he turned around to steal on last look at James' sleeping form. "But it's safer if you don't." Then he walked out, said good-bye to James' family, and walked himself home.