What Not to Wear – SUNDAY

It was late in the morning when Doug stirred sleepily on his side of the bed, yawning. He peeled open an eye to greet the day. “Time to get up, huh?”

Beckett stood beside the bed, shrugging into casual sweats and smelling fresh from a shower. He met Doug’s drowsy gaze and frowned fondly. “Yes. We need to get ready to go over to Sam and Alan’s. Since we never made the celebrations last night, I said we’d visit them sometime today.” His eyes lingered over the folds of the sheet, plumped up over Doug’s lap, and his body tensed up. He licked his lips.

“Any time for breakfast?” Doug murmured. He let his eyes linger on Beckett’s groin. “Or is it lunch already?”

“Does that matter?” Beckett growled. With his free hand, he started to loosen the waist of his sweats.

Doug peered at Beckett’s other hand. “What’s that you’ve got?”

Beckett’s gaze flickered away and he dropped it quickly on to the top of the nightstand. “A gift for the guys. No time to buy anything else.”

Doug frowned and shifted himself to sitting. “It looks like another T-shirt. But you can’t give them one of them.”

“It’s just a joke,” Beckett said. His expression was deadpan. He leaned in over Doug, but not quickly enough to distract him. Doug’s long arm darted out behind him, snatched up the shirt, and shook it out.

I taught your boyfriend that thing you like.

Doug started laughing very loudly, shaking his head. Beckett was grinning, too, and when Doug released the T-shirt, he took the opportunity to push Doug back down in the bed.

“Beckett, you mischievous bugger… you never cease to amaze.”

“Hold that thought,” Beckett murmured, his fingers brushing against Doug’s erect nipples, his hand spread wide on the smooth flesh of the other man’s torso. He pulled the sheet aside, climbing back in with his lover, wriggling his feet out of his sweat pants and letting them drop off on the floor behind him. He pressed his knee between Doug’s thighs, nudging them apart. “Just waking up,” he said, softly, his gaze concentrated on Doug. “You’re delicious.”

Doug raised an eyebrow. “Huh? Me?”

“Eyes heavy-lidded, lips seductively swollen, skin warm and flushed.”

Doug flushed even more. “Stupid sweet talk.” But he grinned with pleasure. “You’re delicious, too, you know.”

“Yes?” Beckett ran his hand down Doug’s side, watching the goose bumps as they sprang up in its wake.

“To taste.” Doug’s gaze slid back down to Beckett’s groin and the thick, morning arousal rising up to greet him. Doug’s mouth started to water. “How long do we have? I mean, it’s not as if the guys ever expect us to be on time.”

Beckett frowned slightly, but he nodded. He stroked Doug’s belly, and Doug felt his muscles tighten up in excited response. “They know we get distracted.”

“Way too easily,” Doug agreed. Hunger spiked in his gut, and yet not for breakfast. “And like I said, we haven’t even eaten yet.”

Beckett chuckled. He dropped his head and started to lick gently at Doug’s belly. Slowly, he slid his lips down farther. Doug arched up, savoring the greedy touch. “Like I said… just hold that thought.”


The young woman tried very hard not to stare at the young couple across from her at the park, but they were so cute!

The men sat on the bench in the park, engrossed in conversation. They were both very attractive, though not entirely due to their looks — more to do with their obvious fascination with each other. The one in the smart, unbuttoned jacket was smiling tolerantly, and the one with the creased T-shirt and unruly hair laughed a lot. As she watched some more, the smarter one lifted a hand and trailed it wistfully along his companion’s bare arm. The lively one sucked in a breath, and his back arched slightly. They were very sexy, too. It was obvious they were engrossed in their own private world. Totally.

“Who are they?” asked a young voice beside her, and she glanced down guiltily at her daughter. “Do you know them?”

“No. I’m just looking, that’s all.”

“It’s rude to stare, isn’t it?”

The mother raised her eyebrows, but nodded. “Of course. And I’m sorry.”

The child peered at her, still suspicious. “We are going to the bird place, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” her mother reassured her. “The sanctuary’s just at the far end of the park.” It was a favourite Sunday outing for her daughter, and she knew they needed to get going. There were only a couple of hours left before closing time, and neither of them liked to rush the fun. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the men on the bench nestling against each other. The laughing one slid a confident hand around the neck of his companion; the captured man leaned in toward him with moistened lips. The young woman felt warmth that had nothing whatsoever to do with the fine day and everything to do with the recognition of young, but true, romance. She sighed, more than a little envious.

“Are they going there, too? To the bird place?” came the relentless questioning.

The woman laughed and let her daughter tug at her hand, starting to move them on along the path. “Probably not.” They’d looked as if they had alternative ideas of entertainment. “Why do you think that, love?”

Her daughter snickered. “The matching T-shirts. Do they like the birds, too?”

The woman glanced back, taking a quick and more careful look at the men’s clothing. They wore T-shirts in different colors but with the same design of two fluttering birds dipping toward each other. The same slogan across both chests…


It kept a smile on her face for the rest of the weekend.

***THE END***



Follow the story from the beginning:

“Lunch, did you say?” Doug raised his eyebrows. He grinned broadly and licked his lips. “Like, now?”
Beckett coughed as if he knew Doug wasn’t just referring to a cheese and pickle sandwich…

Just before Beckett was nudged back up against the side of the elevator car, he caught sight of his lover and colleague’s T-shirt. His gut gave a familiar churn and his mouth dried.

Doug watched Beckett’s fingers under the cloth, probably teasing a nipple. Or both. A bead of sweat ran down the middle of his back. Maybe his guy didn’t need Doug’s personal crusade to lighten up as much as he thought…

A quick sidestep, an unanticipated grip of the elbow, and he had Doug pressed back onto the Board table. Doug gave a grunt of surprise, and his hand scraped across the varnished surface, seeking purchase…

The sudden noise from the telephone was shrill, the cradle rocking on the desk as they thrust alongside each other. Beckett reached out to answer it.
“Leave it!” Doug groaned…

Beckett’s hands weren’t captured anymore, but he kept them stretched above his head just because it felt good. What a startling thought