Laurie and Lea had to stop at her apartment on the way to rehearsal so she could pick up her bass. Laurie already had his guitar. There was a perfect yellow Ducati motorcycle parked in front of Lea's building; even standing still it looked like the fastest thing on two wheels. Laurie tried not to drool.
"Close your mouth," Lea teased him. "I'll be right back."
Apparently her definition of "right back" was "twenty minutes," but during that time the Ducati's owner appeared, and he and Laurie managed a good fifteen minutes of motorcycle geekery before Lea finally came back downstairs with her bass and a big bottle of Dr Pepper. Laurie was kind of disappointed -- the Ducati boy was cute, and looked damn fine in his leather jacket.
"What took you?" he asked Lea. She shrugged and gave him the bottle.
"My mom called."
"Oh. What's this?"
"Dr Pepper, silly. Marshall drank like two glasses and now he won't finish it because it's not as fizzy any more. I hate Dr Pepper. You want it?"
"You're pawning your flat soda off on me?" He tried to look offended. Lea raised an eyebrow at him.
"It's still fizzy," she said. "Shake it." Laurie obediently shook the bottle, aimed it at her, and made as if to unscrew the cap. Lea didn't even blink. "Do it and kiss your dick goodbye." He pointed the bottle towards the building and unscrewed the cap just enough to hear the hiss of escaping carbon dioxide.
"Ok, fine," he said, taking the cap off and swigging from the bottle. "Yeah, still fizzy." He picked up his guitar case and the two of them headed back to Lea's car.
"That guy was cute," she said.
"What guy?"
"The guy you were talking to when I came downstairs. The guy with the motorcycle."
"Oh, him." Laurie feigned nonchalance and raised the Dr Pepper bottle to his lips. "I didn't notice."
Lea cackled and jostled his arm, making him spit soda onto the sidewalk so as not to choke on it. He glared at her. She grinned.
"You looked pretty friendly," she said.
"We were talking about bikes."
"Did he offer you a ride?" Now she waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Laurie rolled his eyes. Was it his fault if the cute ones came on to him?
"He had me put my hand on his motor. Strong vibration, lots of power."
"I bet." Lea giggled and fished in her pocket for her car keys. She found them, popped the trunk, and put her bass in. Laurie slung his guitar case in the trunk as well. "You're such a slut," she said affectionately.
"That's why they love me." Now it was his turn to grin.
"Just don't spill that in my car, Don Juan." Lea gestured to the bottle of Dr Pepper as she unlocked her door and got in. She slid across the seat to unlock the passenger door, and barely waited long enough for Laurie to put his seat belt on before she pulled away from the curb.
"You know if you'd waited another ten minutes to come downstairs I'd have given him a flyer," Laurie commented.
"Uh-huh. If I'd waited another ten minutes you'd have gone off."
"Nah, but maybe later. He gave me his number."
"You are SUCH a slut!" she cried. Laurie just grinned.
He was still thinking about the Ducati and its cute owner when Lea parked near the studio. Thinking about that powerful bike throbbing between his thighs gave him all kinds of X-rated ideas. He'd have to call the boy, see if they could do something about that.
*****
Ok, so maybe he was a slut, Laurie thought, as hands tangled in his hair and a mouth bore down on his. And maybe he just knew when the world was trying to give him a push.
He and Lea had gone back to her apartment after rehearsal to look at Marshall's new half-finished design for the web site, and when he left to go home after a couple of hours, he'd discovered an interesting thing in the stairwell: Ducati Boy lived in Lea's building.
Now if that wasn't fate, what was it?
So the two of them stood on the landing for about ten minutes talking about bikes before Ducati Boy either found some manners or realized the universe was also giving him a hint, and he invited Laurie back to his place. Where they managed about two minutes of actual conversation before they were all over each other.
Ducati Boy was very clear on who and what he wanted, which was how Laurie found himself pinning the boy to the wall, his hand scrabbling at the boy's jeans while the boy hooked a leg around his hip and ground hard against him.
"Want you," the boy panted. "Since I saw you..."
"I thought," Laurie said, finally getting the boy's jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, "I thought you were flirting with me."
"Uh-huh." The boy now looped his arms around Laurie's neck and both his legs around Laurie's waist and holy shit, Laurie was holding him up, hands on the boy's half-naked ass too busy to touch his heavy cock. That wouldn't work.
"Put your leg -- one of 'em -- put it down. I can't -- yeah, like that -- " Ducati Boy dropped one leg to the floor and loosened his hold around Laurie's neck to run fingers into his hair and bring their faces close.
This was more like it, Laurie thought absently, as they rubbed together and kissed hard enough to bruise both their lips. He got his own jeans open and shoved them down off his ass, then grabbed the boy's hips and pulled him away from the wall just far enough to get his jeans down as well.
"I don't have anything out here," Ducati Boy panted.
"'Sokay," Laurie said, strong musician's fingers closing around both their swollen, straining pricks. "Gonna pull."
And he did. Hard and strong and they both gasped and moaned and rocked into each other. Laurie dipped his head and fastened his lips on the boy's neck, sucking up a mark on the tanned skin. The boy moaned into his hair, his hips pushing into Laurie's fingers and his hands closing on Laurie's ass.
It didn't take long until they were shuddering against the wall, breath short and hands clenching as they both came. Ducati Boy didn't let go of Laurie until they'd caught their breath, and then it was only to take Laurie's head in his hands, pull his face away, and grin.
"Figured it was a sign," he said, "you showing up in the stairs. Sometimes you do get what you want."
"My friend Lea lives on the fifth floor. I'm always here." Now it was Laurie's turn to grin, and he leaned in to kiss the boy again. Stubble rasped against his skin in an interesting way, and Laurie imagined how that might feel on his balls or his inner thigh as the boy sucked him off.
"So you'll be able to come again?" the boy asked. Laurie nodded.
"Oh yeah. I think you should too." Laurie pulled away this time, stepping back so he could take off his shirt and bending over to get his boots and jeans off as well. When he straightened up, Ducati Boy was watching him with an appreciative, hungry expression on his cute flushed face. "What?"
"Nothing." The boy also stripped out of his clothes and went into the bedroom. Laurie watched that round, tight ass as his earlier fantasies came back to him, and he wondered briefly how the boy would feel about fucking on his motorcycle. Not when the thing was running, of course -- maybe if they propped it against something so it was upright...
"Hey." Ducati Boy was back. Laurie noticed that he was getting hard again. Damn. "Are you coming?"
"Eventually." Laurie grinned.
"Everything's in the bedroom." The boy turned again, slowly -- Laurie would swear it was on purpose, so he could get an eyeful -- and sauntered back into the bedroom. "You got a name, pretty mystery boy?" he called from the room.
"Laurie," Laurie called back. "You?"
"Paulo."
Paulo. Paulo with the yellow Ducati and the perfect ass. Paulo who seemed to be a random gift from a generous universe.
And Laurie never said no to such a nice-looking, well-fitting present.