Page 74 of Disco Witches of Fire Island

He considered how he should appear when Fergal first saw him lying there. Should he aim his ass toward the ladder, pretending to be asleep?Way too obvious.Should he pretend to read a book? No. That didn’t feel right. Maybe he could say something nonchalant, like,“What is it, Fergal? Sex, you say? Oops. I almost forgot.”That made Joe laugh. Finally, he lay on his back, arms behind his head, gently flexing his biceps. He sniffed his Irish Spring–scrubbed armpit, and then double-checked all private parts front and back. Spic and Span! He had never been more ready.

“Coming up!” Fergal hollered. “Need water or anything?”

“I’m good!” Joe called back and then stretched out his whole body, letting his toes and fingers release some of the tingly energy. He rearranged his chubby to be less conspicuous and reassumed his sexy (but not too sexy) pose. Seconds later, Fergal emerged from the floor hatch, shirtless and still damp. He wore a ridiculous pair of plaid boxers—the sort someone’s dad might wear. Joe’s eyes moved from Fergal’s face to the sweet small patch of hair at the top of his chest, then down to his belly button and the perfect treasure trail that cascaded into his underwear, where something beneath was growing and begging to be set free.

“Wow,” Fergal said, staring down at him. “You look … um … Wow.”

Joe smiled. “You already saw me mostly naked that night I got messed up, remember?”

“That was different. You’re not covered with vomit and snot now, which is a slight improvement.”

“Hey, ferryman.” Joe winked. “Get in my bed.”

Fergal did a funny little leap and landed right next to Joe. Their limbs became like two jumper cables touching—the spark of the muscle and flesh, the electricity of their hairy arms and legs. Joe inhaled Fergal’s soapy and musky smell. Both, still lightly inebriated, stared brazenly at each other.

“Crazy day, right?” Joe said. He needed to calm himself before he prematurely exploded. “This afternoon it hit me who you remind me of. You know that actor from that old TV showLost in Space?”

“Who?”

“That guy who played Don—the co-astronaut? You know the hot, angry one? Judy’s boyfriend? You look a little like him, but taller and less angry.”

“You’re the first person to tell me that.” Fergal smiled and let his furry leg flop across Joe’s.

“What was I saying?” Joe mentally swooned under the weight and warmth of Fergal’s leg. “Oh right, well I used to jack off to the angry astronaut guy. That is, if I couldn’t find the underwear section of the JC Penny catalog.”

“Ha!” Fergal blurted. “I used to wank off to theBatmanTV show.”

“Batman or Robin?”

“Robinof course! He had that hot little body shoved into those cute green shorts. But there was this other TV character you remind me of that I used to be nuts about.” Fergal started to laugh.

“Tell me,” Joe playfully demanded, laughing too. “Come on, I told you my secret TV crush. You have to tell me! And please don’t say Magilla Gorilla!”

“Nah, but itwasa cartoon!” He snort-laughed. “You ever watch Yogi Bear?”

Joe scowled. “I remind you of Yogi Bear?”

“That’s dumb!” Fergal said, faux insulted. “You don’t remind me of Yogi at all.” He wiggled his eyebrows and smiled. “You remind me of Boo-Boo Bear.”

“What?”

“You know, Yogi’s little buddy, Boo-Boo. I wanted him to be my boyfriend so bad.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Joe protested. “I’m way more proportional than Boo-Boo!”

Joe playfully punched Fergal in his upper pec muscle, which led to them wrestling around. Fergal finally flipped Joe on his back, grabbed his wrists, and laid his entire body atop of Joe’s, immobilizing him.

“Get off me!” Joe struggled, laughing, though he really wished Fergal would keep him pressed to the bed forever. After about fifteen seconds, Fergal rolled off, leaving a foot between them. He covered the crotch of his boxers with a pillow while Joe used the sheet to hide his own arousal.

“You know,” he said. “Vince says that if gay guys don’t have sex by the third date, they’ll probably end up as just friends.”

“He says that, huh?” Fergal’s face was flushed and sweaty. His aquiline nose pointed toward the ceiling as his blue-blue eyes appeared to be staring at something above the bed. Suddenly he turned Joe onto his stomach, climbed on top of him and began to kiss his neck while rubbing his erection against the backside of Joe’s briefs.

He loved the feeling of Fergal’s cock pressing against his ass through the layers of underwear, and the way his chest was flush against his back, and how long, tanned forearms stacked on top of his, hands clutching Joe’s. Unlike like Ronnie and his fellow gym bunnies, Fergal’s flesh, while naturally muscular, still had a softness to it, so when he pressed it against Joe’s, it was like they were melting into each other.

“Hey, what’s this?” Fergal touched a sensitive spot on Joe’s right shoulder blade. “You have a little scar here.”

“Don’t worry,” Joe said quickly, knowing how any sort of unusual body marks might be cause for alarm. That was why he’d had it removed in the first place. He’d been worried guys might assume it was one of those dark purple Kaposi lesions—the skin cancer that affected so many with AIDS. “It was just this mole I had since birth. I had it cut out about a year and a half ago. It was ugly as hell.”

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