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We were at my apartment, three of us – John, Duke and me. And during the conversation Duke asked us after some hesitation:
“It’s so strange I can’t seriously deal with any of you concerning sex. Maybe I misunderstand anything?”
I rolled my eyes, sighing.
“You just can’t take it, lady. You aren’t able to take it, Stardust. And you may call it your luck…”
“But why?” He looked quite sad, a strand of orange-dyed hair falling onto his razor cheekbone, an unlit cigarette between his nervous fingers.
“Show him, John,” I said viscously, waving my hand at Cale.
John was silent for a moment, and then suddenly he changed, his eyes burning like two tongues of flame right out from hell.
“Look how beautiful is Lou tonight, he is beautiful and pale like the moon,” he said slowly, his accent heavy.
“I think I’m just wasted, man,” I replied, swallowing with difficulty. “I’m like the dead.”
“No. He is like the moon, the virgin moon.”
I started to feel too tensed and hard in my pants.
“Seriously? The fucking moon. Are you high?”
“Whom is he looking at?” John brushed his hair behind his ears. “Shameless harlot. He enjoys eyeing men in suits.”
I stared at him, lingering on cruel blackness of his eyes.
“I’m looking at the Thin White Duke, he’s so nice. He is too British, and he’s Celt. He looks like a frozen Nordic statue. Dark streets of conquered Berlin suit him. He’s an alien who sings of darkness and dismay.”
John adjusted himself in the armchair, obviously getting turned on.
“Lou is fluttering his hands, like little white butterflies,” he said with a tiny dark smile.
I thought it was time to catch the game, and I replied:
“And John is from Wales, where he fed all day on wild honey.”
John’s glance was now frightening, desire radiating from him like a cloud of smoke.
“Lou is so beautiful tonight,” he said. “I'd give him anything in the whole world if he asked me.”
“I will remember,” I grinned.
John addressed us all, this time his eyes not leaving Duke who clenched his fists so tightly around the armrests that his knuckles were white:
“He looks vicious, like a flower.”
Duke flared his nostrils, breathing sharply.
“How wasted Lou is! He is like a thin ivory statue,” John taunted at him.
“And who is this fancy queer who is looking at me?” John told Duke, getting up and approaching him with a smirk.
I watched Duke’ face, engrossed in the fast changing emotions playing out there.
“You said you will give me anything if I ask you,” I inserted, already shaking from hot to cold because of want.
“And?” John frowned at my words, his stare still on Duke’s face. He pressed his knee between Duke’s thighs. Duke backed, the back of his head meeting with the wall.
“I want you to give me head,” I said quietly.
John grabbed Duke’s shoulder:
“You asshole, get out,” he said, whispering in his ear.
Duke stood very still upright, his posture perfect.
“All right.”
I shook his icy hand as he was about to disappear from the apartment:
“Don’t get angry.”
When I returned to the living room, John was already on his knees.
As the blow was over, I told him we didn’t have to do it with Duke that way…
“Doesn’t matter.”