Harry nodded, not really listening. Karl was talking -- very earnestly from the way his brow was furrowed and the wild gesticulations (gesticulations...sounded like a funky word for sperm) of his hands as he waved his bottle around -- about some wild adventure he and Viggo had gone on the month before. Probably vastly entertaining, too, and it was a real shame Harry couldn't actually concentrate. Stupid allergy medication, making him all loopy -- well, loopier -- in the head, 'cause he was positive it was a really -- "...and have you ever done it?" Harry looked blankly at Karl's hopeful expression for a few moments. "Well?" "Well. Um. Yeah, I guess." When in doubt, go for the affirmative. What his mother used to always say. "You have?" Karl's eyes were as round as saucers behind his glasses. "Uh..." Harry looked around their usual corner booth, hoping to see a familiar face. Rescue of some sort. But, of course there weren't any. Harry was too old for a white knight anyway. Would probably look rather silly in glass slippers. "Yeah," he finally answered, deciding to brazen it out. "Hasn't everyone?" "See, that's just what Viggo said," Karl said, leaning forward, forearms resting on the wooden table. "Said that everyone should experiment. Dunno that I really want to experiment, mind..." Experiment? "Uh, Karl, what exactly are you talking about?" "Well, I dunno." Karl shifted uncomfortably, thigh bouncing, then unbouncing, against Harry's. "Reckon I should. I mean, I'm over 30 and a father, and if everyone else has at least kissed a guy --" Harry spit his beer across the table. "Harry? You alright?" Karl thumped Harry on the back helpfully. "Yeah." Harry grabbed the glass of water next to his beer and swallowed, careful to move his body a very respectable distance away from Karl. "Just, um, swallowed wrong." "Yeah, alright." Karl wiped foam off his lip with the back of one hand and leaned in, ignoring the fact that Harry was still inching away. "So, um, anyway, I was wondering if..." "Susan, thank God!" Harry cried, turning a mega-watt smile to their server, who was standing by their booth with two fresh pints. "Everything alright with you two?" she asked, setting the glasses on the table and wiping it down with a damp cloth. "Yeah," Harry squeaked, nodding much too vigorously. 'You bet," Karl said cheerfully, bobbing his head and pushing his glasses back up his nose. "I was just asking Harry about --" "-- my newest project," Harry interrupted. "Uh, no, I wasn't, I was ask --" "Susan, I think that table behind us is trying to get your attention." "Um?" Susan blinked, then glanced back at the table with a guilty expression. "Um, right. I'll just be, um, over there. Somewhere." She left, throwing puzzled glances over her shoulder. "I wasn't asking about your latest project, Harry, I was asking about..." "Yes, yes, I know." Harry had nowhere to go now. He'd managed to neatly box himself in the corner of the booth with his madman of a friend. "But, as open as, um, everyone is, it's just not, um..." "Oh. Right. Yeah." Karl smiled sheepishly and took a swallow from his fresh pint. "So, um, reckon we could?" "What, you mean now?" "Well, yeah. 'Fore I lose my nerve." "And why didn't you ask Viggo about, um, experimenting?" Harry asked, desperate to stall for time. Why the fuck hadn't he just asked Karl to repeat himself? "Oh, well. Couldn't." Karl looked intently at his mug. "He's, well, he's Vig, y'know, and I just, uh --" "Admire him and didn't want to tell him that you weren't, what was it, experimental," Harry guessed, and was rewarded by Karl's grateful smile. "Yeah, exactly. I mean, I admire you, Harry, don't get me wrong, but..." "It's alright." At least, that part was alright. The other part...well...yeah. "Okay." Karl leaned his elbows on the table and gave Harry a speculative look. "Well? Ya reckon?" "You really mean it?" Harry asked, even though he already knew the answer. "Right here, right now?" "Back booth, no one can see much." Karl shrugged, raked a hand through long, shaggy hair. "I trust you, Harry." "Right," Harry sighed. Fuck. "Well, alright, but just lips, no hands anywhere, and we keep this just between us, alright?" "Of course." Karl looked affronted that Harry had even asked. "So?" Karl closed his eyes and pursed his lips together, chin jutting out. Harry bit back the chuckle and tapped Karl's hand. "You've kissed before, Karl, it's the same principle." "Ah. Right." Karl smiled, then reached forward and jerked Harry to him by a fistful of shirt and pressed lips and teeth against Harry's, tongue pushing insistently forward and just -- "Whoa." Harry shoved Karl back and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, checking gingerly for cuts. "The fuck was that?" "Um." Karl shrugged, wrinkling his nose and running his tongue along his lower lip, frowning. "You're a bloke. Blokes dig aggression, and I thought..." "Alright, that's your first problem. Stop thinking," Harry said, with an authority he absolutely did not feel. "We're blokes, yeah, but that doesn't mean I want my lips ripped off. Would you?" "Well, no." "And you're a father," Harry mumbled. "Amazing, really." "I'll have you know my technique with women is foolproof, thank you," Karl replied with a haughty stare. "Well, it'd have to be, if that kiss is any indication." "Ha fucking ha." "Alright, fine. Show me a bit of that technique, then." And what the hell was he saying? "You want me to kiss you like I would a woman?" "Oh, for fuck's --" Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips against Karl's. Both pulled back a minute later, and Karl was frowning slightly again. "That's it?" he asked. Harry rubbed his chin, trying to rid it of stubble burn. "Yeah. Just a kiss." Karl adjusted his glasses and touched his tongue to his lips. "Did it do anything for you?" "No, can't say that it did." "Maybe we're doing it wrong." "You want another go, then." It wasn't a question. Karl shrugged, but leaned in again. "Yeah. Maybe. If you do." Fuck it. In for the long haul. Harry obediently pressed his lips against Karl's, parted surprisingly soft lips with his tongue and tried again. "Well?" he asked, when they'd parted, both of them licking their lips experimentally. "Um. No offense, Harry, but...nothing. Not even a glimmer," Karl said, looking somewhat disappointed. "Guess that means Natalie's not going to have to worry about you running off with Viggo," Harry said, trying once again to rub the stubble marks from his chin. "Guess not." "Cheer up, least you've experimented, right?" "Yeah." Karl picked up his beer and drained it, wiping foam from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Thought a bit more would happen, though." "You don't want to try again, do you?" "Nah, it's fine." Karl's smile finally reached his eyes. "Would hate to ruin you for everyone after." "How sporting of you." "Yeah, I'm a nice 'un like that." "Right," Harry said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together. "Another pint to celebrate our reaffirmation as straight men?" "Sounds good." Karl smiled and signaled for Susan. "Two more, please," he said, then glanced at Harry, an unholy smile on his face. "So, guess I'm not getting that handjob that Viggo tells me all guys give --" The sound of Harry choking was barely audible over the sound of Karl's laughter.
|