Bate Club Pt. 05

There was a message waiting on Oscar's phone when he woke up. It was from his wife. 'We need to talk.'

Yeah, no shit. They had shitloads of stuff to talk through, but he didn't want to think about it now. 'I'll be home tomorrow arvo,' he replied. Home? It wasn't gonna feel much like home anymore.

Oscar watched Billy sleep. He watched his chest rise and fall with each deep breath. He gazed at the beautiful constellation of freckles that spread across his cheeks. He thought about getting up to take a swim, but the cradle was soft and warm.

He did his best to put thoughts of his wife out of his mind. He knew she'd be feeling sad and upset, and to a large degree, so too did Oscar, but he also knew today was the last full day he'd get to spend with his special new friend.

At least, that is, for now.

He lay down, wrapped an arm around Billy, and went back to sleep for a little while.

*

There was a soft knock at the door. "Housekeeping."

Billy woke up, rolled over and yawned. "Fuck, that bitch never gives up, does she?" He noticed Oscar's arm was wrapped around him.

His bedmate blinked. "You'd think she'd get the message by now, hey?"

"Housekeeping," came the knock.

Billy got up, stark naked, and began walking towards the door.

"What the fuck are you doing?" whispered Oscar.

"I'm curious."

Oscar panicked. "But you're not wearing any fuckin' clothes!"

"Yeah, I know," grinned Billy, lifting his leg and ripping ass loudly as he opened the door. He expected to find a frumpy, large, matronly middle-aged woman; instead, he found a shy, somewhat effeminate boy that he assumed hailed from Indonesia or maybe Thailand. He was instantly apologetic. His fart stank bad, and there wasn't much doubt that his waft had infiltrated the corridor. "Fuck, I'm so sorry," he said, holding his hands in front of his naked groin.

Housekeeping blushed. "I will ... I will come back later today, sir. I'm very sorry to have disturbed your morning." He bowed, retreating hurriedly from both Billy's stench and his own embarrassment.

The redhead closed the door. "Fuck, mate, I wasn't expecting that," he said. "I was expecting to see some fat ugly slag, but it was a cute Asian twink. I feel like such a total arsehole. I shouldn't have done that." Regret landed hard for a moment, but it dissipated fast as his tummy began to rumble. "You hungry? Is breakkie still on downstairs?"

Oscar checked the time. "It's half past ten, mate. Breakfast's done and dusted. We slept in. No wonder housekeeping woke us up."

"Fuck, whatever. I still feel hungry," Billy stated, getting dressed. He wore the shorts he swam in last night, now long since dry. "What about you?"

Oscar got up, took a quick dump, brushed his teeth, and got dressed. "What do you feel like doing today?"

"First things first, mate," said Billy. "I'd be happy with a coffee and a muffin."

They sat at one of the many ridiculously expensive food outlets that lined Circular Quay. Their prices were set high to gouge rich northern hemisphere tourists, but Oscar had saved for this week, and he didn't mind. They watched ferries pull into wharves, spew passengers out, suck in more, and depart again. The sun was bright, and the boys were wearing dark sunglasses. "What are you gonna do?" asked Billy.

Oscar sipped his coffee, knowing exactly what his friend was driving at. "Fucked if I know how this works."

Billy, for now, had nothing more to add. He watched the hive of activity on the harbour.

"I had a weird dream last night," Oscar confessed. "After we went back to sleep. After we ... after we ..."

Billy helped his friend end his sentence. "After we fucked in the dark?" He noticed two male heads on a nearby table turn in their direction. He couldn't give a shit what they thought. Oscar was beginning to learn just how loud and proud Billy was.

"Yeah," grinned Oscar. "After we fucked in the dark."

Conversation on the nearby table stopped.

"I remember the way I felt last night," Oscar continued, "sad for my wife, sad for my kids and sad for me too, because this is gonna be hard as hell, but at the same time, I remember feeling relieved, like something that needed to be said was finally said, something that needed to be brought out into the open was finally there, and like, it felt as if there was a massive weight suddenly lifted off my shoulders."

Billy listened. He sipped his warm morning brew.

"When I fell asleep, it felt like I was sinking into nothingness. Like, the nothingness you experience when you've said something or done something that was a long time coming, and you're glad you've said it, because it's finally off your chest ... wait, I'm explaining this so badly, dude ..."

"Yeah, I think I'm with you, bruh," encouraged Billy. He knew the blokes on the nearby table were eavesdropping, but he didn't care. His sole focus was on Oscar's problem and Oscar's emotions.

The half-Latino took a deep breath, trying to reconfigure his thoughts. "I'm not good at remembering dreams, but suddenly, out of nowhere, out of the nothingness, I'm in a room. It's the bate club room from Tuesday night, and I'm on my knees again. Blokes are lining up to bust on me, but at the same time, I've got a dick in my mouth, and another one in my cunt. And I'm thinking about the rules -- no penetration at bate club -- but I'm like so intensely focused on the cocks that are inside me. The guy who's in my hole busts and pulls out, and I feel his load dripping out of me, and for a moment, I feel empty, until you ... until you ... like ..."

Billy sipped his coffee. His cock twitched.

"I remember feeling you pushing yourself inside me, and it was the most perfect feeling I've ever ... it felt like my soul was on fire." Oscar paused for a second. "Like, do you believe in love at first sight?"

"I believe in lust at first sight," came Billy's reply. Oscar's dream was a little bit too deep for him. "Does that count?"

Oscar tried to smile. "I've never ... like, I don't believe in the concept of a happy ending. I don't believe two people can ever smash into each other from absolutely fuckin' nowhere and suddenly they're ... they're ..."

But that's exactly what had happened this week, and Oscar knew it. He shook his head in disbelief. This wasn't rational. This wasn't what sensible people did.

The day was warming up. The sky was a bright, clear blue. Oscar's head sank. He knew he stood at a fork in the road, possibly standing before the biggest decision he'd ever have to make in his life. Suddenly, it all became too much for him. Something about remembering the dream tipped him over the edge. He stood up. "I have to go. This isn't gonna work."

Billy watched Oscar start to walk away. "Wait! Oi, cunt! Where ya fuckin' goin?" His muffin was only half-eaten; he left it on the table. Grabbing his coffee, he chased. "Hey!" he shouted, running around in front of Oscar. "What's goin' on?"

"This is too much," Oscar sighed. A single tear fell from his eye. "None of this makes any sense. Like, I ... I can't do this."

Billy wrapped his arms around his new friend, holding him close. He felt Oscar's shoulders wrack with sobs, and he held him as tightly as he could. "Everything's gonna work out OK, Oscy."

Oscar pushed himself away from Billy's embrace, his face contorted with confusion. "How the fuck would *you* know?" He poked him in the chest with an angry finger. "You've never had a relationship in your entire fucking life! How would you know how this feels?"

Foot traffic walked past in all possible directions, barely registering Oscar's meltdown. The summer sun was hot.

"I don't," came Billy's honest reply, his hands hanging down by his sides. "I wish I did, Oscy. That way, I'd be able to help. I know me saying 'everything's gonna work out' doesn't mean much, but fuck, that's all I've got." He looked at Oscar, his shoulders rising and falling as he sucked in breath. "Right now, I feel about as useful as tits on a bull."

Oscar exhaled shakily. "I'm gonna have so much shit to do ... like, I'm gonna go home tomorrow, but it won't feel like home anymore, the missus is either gonna give me the cold shoulder or she's gonna be so angry she'll throw fuckin' plates at me, she'll tell me I've ruined her life, the kids won't understand what the fuck's going on, all they'll see is mummy and daddy fighting, and ... and ... and pretty soon they're gonna have two separate bedrooms to grow up in, one at her place and one at mine, and then we're gonna have to sell our place, and like we only bought it like two or three years ago and we've barely even started paying it off, and ... and I'm gonna miss you, and ..."

The Quay was busy today, noisy and full of life. "I'm gonna miss you too, mate," Billy replied.

Oscar stopped. Sure, this was gonna be difficult and confronting, but his wife could look after herself. He wasn't responsible for her emotions. She could move on, find a new relationship, remarry. Hopefully, later, they could still be friends, but if not, then that'd be OK too. He was more worried about his kids. Separation would present a set of emotional and environmental challenges for them to navigate, but he'd do his best to help them through. He loved them dearly, and while he wanted to protect them as much as he could from the fallout, he couldn't submerge his own heart's passions and desires for their sakes. Nothing was worth that. Nothing ever could be.

It suddenly dawned on Oscar that Billy was merely the catalyst for all of this. Deep down, he knew he hadn't been happy for a very long time. This wasn't the life he wanted, but all Billy had done, without ever even meaning to, was to open his eyes. He stared at the redhead. "Has anyone ... has anyone ever told you how fucking beautiful your face is?" His fingers reached out to tentatively touch Billy's jaw.

Billy cleared his throat. "You mean me?"

Oscar nodded. "Yeah, of course I mean you."

"Well," Billy deadpanned, "that's a turn I didn't expect from this conversation."

"No, but I mean ... really ... like ... you're so fucking beautiful, Billy."

"You're pretty cute yourself, Oscy." Billy paused for a second, half-smiling. "Reckon I've said that once or twice already."

Suddenly, Oscar knew what he had to do. He knew what was right in his heart, but now he had to summon up the courage to follow through. It was gonna be rough terrain, but the path he needed to tread was brightly lit.

On a Friday morning in January, in the middle of busy Circular Quay, they kissed. Busy people walked by. Nobody noticed them. Right now, in this moment, the boys were far away, lost in their own private universe. Oscar's hands held Billy's jaw as his tongue forced itself deep into his mouth. Billy wrapped his arms around Oscar's neck, pulling him in.

"I love you," breathed Oscar.

"I love you too," Billy replied, hugging Oscar's waist. "I know you leave in the morning, but come back soon, yeah?"

"I'm not gone yet," Oscar smirked, running his hand through his shaggy hair. "We've still got today and tonight. What do you wanna do?"

Billy raised an eyebrow. "You've still got that swanky hotel room, right?"

"For one more night, yeah."

Billy smiled. "You know exactly what I wanna do, you sexy cunt."

"Let's just hope housekeeping doesn't come back while we're at it."

"Worse things could happen, mate," grinned the redhead. "He was cute as a button, and I reckon he was checkin' me out."

*

"Hey, so what kind of porn are you into?" Oscar's question seemingly came out of nowhere. The elevator shot them up twenty floors.

"Never thought you'd ask, mate. My dad might've been a weapons-grade prick, but he had a fuckin' awesome porno collection."

Oscar's eyes widened as he pushed his fringe away from his face. The elevator emptied them out into the corridor. Their conversation stalled for a moment as an elderly couple walked by in the opposite direction.

"You reckon those two are into porn?" Billy whispered.

Oscar, opening the door, looked back over his shoulder. "They look like they're going to meet their accountant."

"Everyone watches porn, bro," Billy concluded, "but I reckon it's the ones you least suspect who are into it most."

They sat on the couch. "Tell me about your dad's collection." Like everyone else on earth, Oscar was familiar with internet porn, but he knew there was a furtive, seedy past to the art.

Billy's mind went back in time. "My dad was fuckin' clueless about computers. We didn't have one in the house. Stupid cunt would've been flat out using a pocket calculator. Anyway, I was horny one day, and from memory I'd already jacked off twice, but I wasn't done. Not even close. I started rummaging around in his wardrobe to see what I could find. Suddenly, hidden behind a pile of winter clothes, my fingers hit something solid. Without even laying eyes on it, I knew I'd struck gold. Whatever it was, it was hidden for a reason. I took a quick mental snapshot of what everything looked like, because I already knew I'd need to put everything back exactly where it was when I was finished. Carefully, I moved his clothes out of the way to find two VHS tapes and maybe half a dozen magazines."

By now, Oscar had pitched a serious tent inside his shorts. His mouth felt dry.

"The mags he had were vintage Scandinavian shit from the 1970s. Or maybe early 1980s. Glossy paper with fuzzy photos in high contrast technicolour. I imagine the mags had been passed around dad's workplace, but the pages were still pristine, like they'd been pulled out of an archive or a museum. It's hard to imagine these days where porn is fuckin' everywhere, but maybe blokes of that generation understood that porn was rare and it needed to be treated well. There were no cumstains, and none of pages were stuck together." Billy paused for a second, remembering. "Every single dude in the mag was ugly as fuck, bro, but they all had big dicks. I guess that's what the casting agents went for -- you might look like the Elephant Man, but if you've got nine fat inches and can bust on command, you're in. The sluts were fugly too, but they knew how to take a fat cock up the back passage and a hot load of cum to the face."

Oscar was nearly breathless.

"So this is what I jacked off to when I first discovered porn," Billy continued, "and my head was fuckin' dizzy with pornlust every time I had the house to myself, plus the cheap thrill of the seediness of it all. And even though I'm not into women, bro, the sight of a hairy vintage cunt can still get me hard."

"Fuck, dude," whispered Oscar. "What about the videotapes?"

"American pornos from the late 80s, I reckon. They looked like they'd been pirated from copies of copies of copies. Grainy as fuck, but you could still make out what was goin' on." A smile crept across Billy's face. "Now here's the thing. Neither of the tapes were wound back to the beginning. They were cued up somewhere in the middle, to a scene that I assumed he liked. This presented a challenge for me."

Oscar was nearly drooling.

"So on one of the tapes, there's this scene where some guy who's meant to be a professional baseball player is sitting by a swimming pool talking to a whore. Don't ask me how or why. Like, it's vintage porn, bro, so the set-up doesn't matter. Anyway, he tells her he's got a big bat -- lame baseball joke -- and that's her cue. She sucks him, they fuck, and he busts a massive load all over her back. The tape was wound to the start of that scene, so every time I had the place to myself and I hauled the stash out, I'd have to make sure I wound it back to the same spot when I was done. It was never a problem when I was alone for hours at a time, but there was one day where I'm watching with my dick in my hand and my pants around my ankles when dad's car heads up the driveway, completely unexpectedly. I panic. Like, I'm totally gonna get busted this time. I pull up my pants and I run to the VHS machine, hitting the rewind button. I'm standing there, anxiously watching the counter, willing it to go faster. I get to the right spot, I hit eject, and the tape seems to take fuckin' forever to pop out, I jam it back in its cover, put the stash back into dad's wardrobe, make sure everything is left as I found it, and I'm still hard as the front door opens and dad walks in. Close shave. I don't know whether the cunt knew I was secretly jackin' off to his stash, but I don't fuckin' care either way."

Oscar fired up his laptop. "Do you remember what the movie was called?"

Billy nodded. Oscar typed it in, and there it was, grainy and lurid on his screen. He pressed play.

"Fast forward a bit," guided Billy. "The scene was maybe about two thirds of the way in."

Oscar spied a swimming pool. "Is this it?" He showed Billy the screen.

"Yeah," said Billy. "Fuck, bruh, I haven't seen this in ages."

Oscar placed the laptop on the couch by Billy's side. He hauled Billy's shorts down, kneeled before him, and sucked his smooth, pale cock into his mouth.

"Fuck, she's got a hairy cunt," Billy whispered. "Reckon you could floss your teeth with those pubes." He rested his hands on the back of Oscar's head as his attention turned back to the dude on screen. "He wasn't kidding about the size of his cock. He's got a big fuckin' bat, bro. I'd fuckin' love to suck on that."

Oscar was in heaven. He drooled all over Billy's shaft, licking his swollen, purple head. His fingers teased Billy's nutsack, tugging and squeezing.

"Fuck, bro," Billy seethed, "I'd love to feel that dude's big dick inside of me." In response, Oscar wedged a wet digit into Billy's hole. "Fuck yeah, bro, yeah, that's it. Fuck my pussy with your fingers." Oscar pushed a second finger in. He heard Billy moan. "Like seriously, dude, you're gonna make me nut if you keep doing that."

"Not until the pornstar busts," mumbled Oscar, his mouth full of cock.

Billy watched the screen, feeling a hot mouth, a wet tongue and a pair of eager hands leading him towards orgasm. The baseball dude was ploughing the whore doggy style now. From distant memory, this was their final position. He remembered him watching him explode all over her back.

Oscar tasted sweet precum on his tongue. "I'm so fuckin' close," Billy warned.

On Oscar's laptop screen, rope after rope of hot pornstar sperm rained down upon the slutty whore's arched back. Watching, Billy felt his balls begin to pull back up into his body. "Fuck, bruh," he roared. He leaned forward, lifting his hips, fucking Oscar's face.

Oscar nearly choked as the wiry redhead filled his mouth with thick seed. He felt Billy's hands on the back of his head, holding him down, making him gulp and swallow. Rivulets of semen spilled from Oscar's hungry lips. He coughed a little; there was just too much to take in.

Billy released his grip, and Oscar, gasping for air, pulled his mouth away. His cheeks and chin were streaked with unswallowed sperm, and his eyes were a little bit wet. Billy craned down to lick Oscar's face clean before ramming his tongue deep into his warm mouth.

"Did you like that?" Oscar whispered.

"Fuck, bruh," Billy admitted, trying hard to catch his breath. "Worlds collided." He flopped back onto the couch, totally spent. His shorts were pooled around his ankles.

For a moment, the room fell silent. Outside, the sun was blazing. They had the whole afternoon, but first, Billy asked the obvious next question. "What kind of porn are *you* into, Oscy?"

Oscar gulped, his mouth still alive with the taste of Billy's sticky load.

"I mean, you're married," Billy continued, "but you're into cock, so I'm guessing you've got some niche tastes in porn? Like, when the wife's away, where does Oscar play?"

Oscar didn't reply.

"C'mon, bruh, what does a sexy dude like you get up to when you've got the place to yourself?"

Oscar's immediate response was to deflect. "Doesn't happen very often."

Billy seized the moment. "OK, but when it does, I'm guessing you've got a process? A strategy? A go-to?" He waited for a second. "You watch straight porn, don't ya, mate?"

"Not always, but sometimes. But when I do, I'm not ... I'm not watching the chicks."

Billy smiled knowingly. "Fuck yeah, bro," he whispered.

"I jerk off to big dicks," Oscar gulped. "Black ones, brown ones, white ones, I don't really care. Straight porn, gay, bi, trans ... whatever, just so long as I can perv on some fat sausages."

"Bit of a size queen, are ya?" teased Billy.

"Yeah," came Oscar's whispered reply. He'd never thought of himself that way before, but the shoe fit. "Guess so," he shrugged.

"You like the big ones, hey?"

"Yeah," coughed Oscar. "And if I know I'm gonna have the place to myself for a while, I'll fuck myself. I've got a few dildos, a few plugs and a prostate toy, and if I'm watching hetero porn, I'll be imagining I'm the girl getting her holes wrecked by thick pornstar meat."

Billy's eyes were wide, consuming Oscar's every word. He wondered whether his wife knew anything about her husband's toy collection or his porn habits. "You'll have to show me your collection one day," he said. "My parents were arseholes, Oscy, but at least they taught me to share my toys with other boys."

"Your story about your dad coming home unexpectedly while you were mid-fap spooks me a bit." Oscar collected his thoughts. "A few months ago, the missus goes out to do grocery shopping one morning. This is a weekly thing for her. She likes to fill the fridge and plan meals for the week and so on. I sometimes go with her, but not very often. This is my fap time, you see, but she doesn't know that. She thinks I'm pottering around the house, maybe getting some housework done, doing some gardening, reading a book, whatever. So she's gone out, and I'm thinking I've got about an hour to myself. That's usually how long she's gone, but sometimes a little bit longer if she has other errands and shit. Not long enough for me to fuck myself, but long enough to enjoy a nice, leisurely fap session. So I'm pacing everything well, teasing myself, building up a load, but she comes home early, and like, that never happens, so I'm not prepared."

"Fuck, dude," whispered Billy. He leaned forward.

"I was in our spare room, which is right near the front door. It's got a desk and a few books and stuff. Anyway, I'm sitting at the desk and I've got the laptop open in front of me, watching a scene where some businesswoman makes a bad decision and three of her best employees threaten to quit, but she keeps them on the job by opening her holes. It's a hot scene, bro, and each dude's got a thick, long fattie. Anyway, so I've closed the blinds to make the room as dark as possible, my trackies are down around my ankles, my dick's in my hand, my feet are up on the desk, I've got a finger in my pussy and I'm right on the edge. I couldn't hear the car, so I didn't know she was back home until I heard her key in the door. I panic. I shut the lid of the laptop and yank my pants up, but for some reason, the sound keeps playing, and so I'm totally busted. Like, there's no disguising the sounds of porn, is there? The businesswoman is screaming and roaring as she gets wrecked, and while my missus can't see what's happening, she can clearly hear it. So she's standing there, watching me, holding a cardboard box of fresh fruit and vegies in her arms. And because I'm wearing trackies and I'm right on the edge, the feeling of the soft, tight fabric rubbing across the head of my dick finally makes me bust. My cock twitches, and I try my hardest to keep a normal face, and I don't know if you've ever tried to do that, but fuck, dude, it's not easy. My knees tremble, and she looks down just as a wet patch of cum blooms through the fabric right in front of my bulging cock. She frowns and goes "there's more shopping on the back seat, do us a favour and bring it in."

Billy laughed. "She was straight down to business, hey? Brutal. 'Get the rest of the shopping out of the car, hubby, clean yourself up when you're done, and make sure you throw those pants in the wash.'"

Oscar laughed despite himself.

"But surely she knows you watch porn, right?" Billy quizzed. "I mean, everyone does, right? I don't know her, but I bet she watches porn too. Like, she can't be that disbelieving, right? And besides, if she's the wet fish in bed that you've described, isn't a sexy warm-blooded male like yourself gonna rub one out from time to time?"

Oscar didn't reply. The answer ought to have been obvious.

"You ever get jealous, mate?"

"Huh?" asked Oscar. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"I mean, of the hot dudes in porn who've been blessed with massive cocks. You get jealous?"

"Yeah. Of course I do."

"You wish you had one too?"

Oscar nearly cackled. "A big dick? Fuck, bro, who wouldn't want one? I'm jealous of everyone who's bigger than me."

"Sorry," came Billy's apology. They both knew the redhead had the bigger appendage. "If you had a huge cock, what would you do with it?"

"For starters, I'd make sure everyone knew about it," Oscar laughed. "I'd love to walk into a room and know everything's thinking about my junk, wanting to see it, wanting to play with it." He paused for a second. "Some dudes live their lives like that, so fuck, bro, of course I'm jealous of that. Like, what a fucking ego boost it'd be to walk around with a fat log."

"You reckon you'd wanna do porn if you had a huge dick?"

"Maybe," admitted the half-Latino. He wondered whether his wife would've been more into him if he was more endowed. Maybe she was into big dicks too. Even though he was fit for his age, maybe his endowment left her wanting. They'd never talked about it before, and now, maybe they never would.

"Fuck, dude, that's fire. I'd fuckin' love to watch you do porn." Billy reached into Oscar's shorts and fished out his cock. He frowned a little. "Sure, it's not massive, but it's not small either. You should've seen some of the microdicks I had to deal with when I was doing sex work. I'd jack them off with a finger and thumb, but I can get my fist around you. You ain't small, bruh." He gazed deep into Oscar's dark irises. "You wanna fuck me?" As he stroked the half-Latino hard, he kissed his lips.

"Yeah," breathed Oscar. He could feel blood rushing to the tip of his cock. It felt so good to be wanted, to be desired.

"Then come get me."

Oscar leaned across, kissing the slutty redhead hard.

"I want you to stick that brown slab of meat where the sun don't fuckin' shine."

Oscar lifted Billy's feet, peeled his shorts away from his ankles and threw him onto the hotel room floor. He reached for his bottle of lube, got him nice and wet, and pushed himself deep inside. He felt Billy's hands reach around his neck.

"Fuck, dude," seethed Billy, "I love your fuckin' dick."

Outside, the sun was bright and the sky was blue.

Oscar gritted his teeth. He fucked Billy hard. His shaggy hair flopped down in front of his eyes.

"Fuck my pussy, bro." Billy reached up to tease and pinch Oscar's nipples, and he watched as Oscar's mouth gaped open. "Fuck me hard, dude. Can you go faster?"

A quick fuck is a good fuck. Oscar picked up the pace, and Billy's eyes rolled into the back of his head. "Just like that, bruh. Fuck, man, I love feeling your fuckin' dong deep inside my tight puss. Penis me up good, dude."

Oscar's head began to spin at the sound of Billy's mouth. His cock thickened inside the redhead's warm pussy.

"Wreck my fuckin' hole, bro, fuckin' wreck it. Treat me like a cheap fuckin' slut. I'm your fuckin' ragdoll." Billy's hands grabbed and squeezed Oscar's butt cheeks, pulling him in closer. "Fuck, bro, make me fuckin' squeal. You're right on my fuckin' p-spot." He pulled Oscar's face down to his, moaning into his sweet mouth. "Dude, you're gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard ..."

Oscar fucked Billy's hole like lightning. In response, the redhead's cock unleashed thick torrents of semen that drenched his chest and neck. He arched his back, squealing like a girl. His hungry fingers reached down to scoop up his sweet load from his sweaty skin. He fed himself.

Watching this, seeing this, feeling this, Oscar's balls exploded like a violent clap of thunder. For a second, he thought about pulling out and busting all over Billy's beautiful face, but his pussy was just too warm and tight and inviting to resist. His weight bore down upon the skinny redhead as he unloaded deep, way deep inside his juicy cunt. He held himself inside, feeling his shaft spasm and twitch as his balls fired ropes of thick sperm deep into Billy's hungry stomach. His hair tickled Billy's chest and neck, soaking up the residue of the redhead's sticky load. He tried so fucking hard to stay hard inside him. He wanted to stay like this forever.

"I'm a sucker for big dicks too, bro," Billy admitted, his fingers running through Oscar's hair, "but the best dicks are the ones that get the job done." He paused, sucking in some air. "You made me bust so fuckin' hard, dude ... like, you've literally got no idea what you do to me."

Their eyes locked, and Oscar nearly cried. He'd finally found the one he'd longed for, but tomorrow would come too soon. "I feel the same way about you." Slowly, he pulled his dick out of Billy's sopping wet cunt. Tomorrow was already on his mind, but it could wait. He pushed it away; they still had this afternoon and tonight. "You wanna head out and do something?"

Billy smiled. "Sure. What've you got in mind?"

*

An hour later, the boys disembarked at Watson's Bay. The ferry journey was peaceful, and the boys sat at the front of the boat, feeling the bow dip and lift across the bright, glistening ripples of the harbour. They got off, swiped their Opal cards, and walked up the gangway. The smell of fish and chips hit their nostrils hard, and Billy's tummy rumbled again. "Lunch time, I reckon," he declared. "All this hot sex makes me hungry, Oscy. Reckon I need a feed."

They placed their orders -- a serve of fish and chips each, and a couple of cold beers. They sat at an outside table, looking back across the water. The famous Sydney Harbour Bridge was directly in front of them. "Bit pricey here, mate," Billy observed. "Credit card nearly caught fire."

"Yeah, I reckon we're probably paying for the view, but it's a good one."

"Agreed."

"Anyway," Oscar said, lifting his beer, "cheers." They clinked glasses.

"So what the fuck are we doin' out here, Oscy?" Billy took a sip of ale.

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "You've never been here before?"

"Nup," came the redhead's reply.

"OK, so this is as far east as you can possibly go in Sydney. Right behind us is the entrance to the harbour. We're sitting on a little finger of land."

"I liked feeling your little fingers when they were up in my puss this morning." Billy thought for a second. He studied Oscar's brown hand, wrapped around his beer glass. "Maybe they're not so little," came his correction.

Oscar grinned. "Two hundred metres behind us is the ocean."

"Show me when we're done," said Billy.

Their meals arrived, and Billy jammed a fistful of chips into his face. Oscar cut into his battered fish. Salty and delicious.

They ate under the blazing January sun. Once they'd finished, Oscar led Billy across the thick grass of Robertson Park and up a set of concrete stairs. Billy heard waves crashing violently against the face of a steep cliff moments before he saw them.

"Next stop, New Zealand," Oscar joked, looking out across the vast, endless expanse of blue.

Billy looked down, imagining wave after wave after endless wave crashing into the rockface below for a million years. This had been here forever. "Long way down, Oscy."

Oscar pointed out the ads for Lifeline. "Let's just say it's a popular choice for suicides."

Billy thought. If someone jumped from here, and even if miraculously they were still alive when they hit the bottom, they'd never be able to climb back up. It felt so final. "Thanks for bringing me to such an uplifting place, bruh. I really appreciate it."

Oscar wished he'd kept that aspect of the location to himself. This location felt uplifting for him, and he tried to change Billy's initial perspective. "I could sit here for hours on a day like this, just watching the ocean, listening to the waves, and thinking."

Billy turned to face him. "Thinkin' about what?"

Oscar shrugged. "Life, death, and everything in between," came his flippant reply.

"Well, as you've pointed out, it's a popular spot for that," Billy grimaced. He grabbed Oscar's hand. "I know shit's bad for you right now, Oscy, but promise me you're not gonna do anythin' stupid."

"No chance of that." The boys kissed deeply, tasting echoes of each other's lunch. "Feel like a walk?"

"Sure," Billy replied. They started walking down the hill back towards Sydney when he suddenly stopped. "Ooh. Wait a sec. Gelato, Oscy."

They sauntered into a gelato shop for a few moments. They resumed their stroll with two scoops each. Oscar went for passionfruit and mango while Billy chose banana and chocolate. Oscar was mortified. "Seriously, dude, you've literally picked the two worst flavours possible."

Billy grinned. "I'm not letting you lick my spoon now." He poked out his tongue.

Oscar giggled. He was in heaven.

Leaving Watson's Bay behind, they walked past waterfront properties owned by billionaires. At one point, as they walked through ritzy Vaucluse, they saw someone's brand new grand piano being delivered. Billy let out a low whistle. "Feels like you're taking me for a walk down Rich Cunt Road."

"This is one of the wealthiest parts of the country, yeah."

"Bet none of these fuckers 'round here pay the tax they're meant to pay and it's always dimwit tradies like me who have to pull up the fuckin' slack. Fuckin' hate these selfish cunts."

Oscar didn't reply.

"So why are we here, bro?"

Oscar scooped some mango gelato onto his spoon. "I don't care about the mansions or the wealth. For me, I like being here because I'm close to the water." He pointed northward with his spoon. "You can't really see it through the trees, but the harbour is just over there."

"Yeah, but I can't see the fuckin' harbour anymore because of all the fuckin' mansions in the way. These rich pricks have the harbour as their own private backyard," Billy fumed. "There's somethin' seriously fuckin' wrong with that. Why can't the harbour be for everyone?"

Oscar kept his counsel. If he suddenly inherited a bajillion bucks tomorrow, he'd move here in a heartbeat. Seriously, who wouldn't. They continued walking.

"Where the fuck are we, anyway?" asked Billy. A vicious hill loomed. He reached into his backpack for his water bottle. Even though he was used to hard work carting bricks on a building site, he was sweating hard.

"Almost at Rose Bay." Oscar had a destination in mind, but for now, he kept it to himself.

"Fuck, bro," the redhead sweated, "look at that fuckin' hill. You're gonna kill me."

Oscar strode confidently. "We'll be walking back downhill again in a sec." They reached a crest, pausing at a set of traffic lights. Billy sucked in some deep breaths as they waited for the lights to change.

They walked downhill to the Rose Bay shopping strip. The placid harbour lay to their right as they strolled past expensive craft stores. Billy walked into one, quite at random, basically just to take advantage of the air-conditioning. Oscar followed.

Billy took his cap off and waved his face with the peak.

"Can I help you with anything?" asked a frumpy grey-haired matron. She wore an apron, though there wasn't a speck of dirt in sight. Nor did anything else in her domain seem to be out of place.

"Nah, I reckon I'm good," Billy gasped. "Just browsing." After that hike, he would've loved to sit down for a bit, but there were no chairs. He walked the sparse room slowly, inspecting the merchandise as the cool air chilled his scalp. "Hey, Oscy, check this out," he said, pointing to a handcrafted ceramic bowl nestled on a shelf. "Four hundred bucks," he whispered incredulously. "It's a fuckin' cereal bowl, and not a very good one, either. Like, are corn flakes encrusted with gold in this part of town?"

The shop assistant overheard. She frowned as she watched Billy lift the item for a closer examination, desperately hoping he wouldn't drop it. These weren't the kind of customers she was used to. They looked grubby, sweaty and poor, and she wanted nothing more than to chase them out of her shop.

"Mate," Billy continued, "I could buy four plastic bowls from the supermarket for sweet fuck-all, none of which would be lopsided, and I could feed a family of ..."

The shop assistant interrupted. "Sir, this is a bespoke, artisanal piece of craft ..."

Billy's response was swift. "Can't spell 'artisanal' without 'anal', hey. Listen, lady, I'm not interested in any of your overpriced wank. It's hot as fuck outside, and I'm just here to bludge off your aircon for a minute."

For a second, Oscar felt uncomfortable, but maybe Billy had a point. He held up the bowl himself, studying it, examining it. "I'll give you one hundred for it."

Billy was nearly apoplectic. His eyes bulged. "Are you out of your fuckin' mind, bro?"

"It's worth four hundred," said the assistant.

Oscar smiled sweetly. "Dollars?"

The shop assistant's stare was tired and withering.

"I'm just checking which currencies you accept before I agree to purchase." Oscar paused for a second, inspecting the room as if he wanted to buy everything. "Could you perhaps walk me through why this particular item is set at that specific price point?" he inquired.

Billy chuckled.

The assistant felt flabbergasted. This was uncharted territory for her. She rarely felt required to justify her prices; most of her customers had money to burn and were willing to pay whatever it said on the tag. "Well," she replied, "because it's unique, it's one of a kind, and it's ..."

"Well, yeah," Oscar volleyed, "but really, just about anything is unique if you think about it like that, right? Didn't Warhol prove that point? I mean, I took a crap this morning, and while it was undeniably one of a kind, I'm not gonna charge like a bull for it, am I? On second thoughts, maybe I shouldn't have flushed."

Billy nearly pissed himself laughing as he imagined Oscar putting photos of his morning dump up on Ebay.

The shop assistant's frown solidified into concrete.

"Can you give me some other reason why you reckon this item is worth so much?" tested Oscar. "My friend's got a point, don't you think? Like, don't you reckon four hundred bucks for something that looks like an amateur made at an evening pottery class is a bit steep?"

"Steep?" said Billy. "For a piece of shit like this, it's fuckin' vertical. I reckon my grandma could make something better, and she's dead."

The apron-clad assistant placed her hands defiantly on her hips. She'd made the bowl herself, but she wasn't going to give these plebs the satisfaction of telling them. "It's priced at four hundred dollars because that's what we expect people are willing to pay for it."

Billy nearly doubled over with laughter. "Yeah, I can guess. We just walked down Billionaire Boulevarde to get here." He turned to his friend, cackling with glee. "Fuck me dead, Oscy. Before you buy the bowl, make sure you ask how much the spoon costs." He wiped his eyes. "Thanks for bringin' me to this alternate universe, bruh, but this shit is fuckin' nuts."

The boys fell back out onto the street, laughing hysterically. Oscar left the bowl on the shelf where he found it.

With trembling hands, the shop assistant reached into her handbag and popped a Xanax. She swallowed it dry. She could've killed for a stiff gin and tonic.

"Fuck, it's hot out here," Billy sweated. He spied a pub across the road. He grabbed Oscar's hand, guiding him through traffic. Again, inside, the air was cool. They sat at a table near a window, clutching cold beers. "You gonna come back up to Sydney, bruh?"

"Yeah," Oscar gulped. "If you're not gonna leave me hanging, that is."

Billy reached across the table and rested his hand on Oscar's. "No chance of that, Oscy." They sat silently for a minute or two. A large ceiling fan whirred above them, and a TV screen showed a cricket game in progress. "What're you gonna tell her?"

Oscar knew Billy was referring to his wife. "You heard us talking last night. She knows I'm not happy."

"Yeah," Billy replied, "I heard that, but like, she doesn't know anything about me or us."

Nervously, Oscar sipped his beer.

"She knows someone was in the room," continued the redhead, "but she doesn't know the first thing about me, and she probably just thinks I was one of your casual Sydney hookups. So, like, she doesn't know ... she doesn't know ... about ... so like, when you go back home, she's gonna think shit needs to change, but she doesn't know that ... that we ..."

Oscar was on the verge of tears. His bottom lip trembled.

"When you go back to her, 'cause I know you're going to," whispered Billy, "please don't forget me."

Oscar crumpled forward like he'd been in a car accident. The tears wouldn't stop. They tumbled down his face like a dam had burst. "I'm not going back to her." He wiped his eyes. "I need to make things right, and I need to end this gently if I can, but ... but ..."

Billy said the words Oscar would never forget. "If you do, Oscy, I'm gonna be here, waiting for you."

"You promise?" cried Oscar.

"I promise," Billy smiled. "Cross my fuckin' heart, bruh."

"I have to tell her about you." Oscar wiped his face. He reached his tear-soaked, snot-filled hands across the table, and Billy grasped them, weaving his fingers into Oscar's palm like he'd never let go.

"I love you, Oscy."

"I love you too, Billy."

"I hate to break the mood at a time like this," Billy declared, "but I need to take a piss. I'm fuckin' bustin' right now, bruh."

Oscar laughed a little, though his face was wet with tears. He watched Billy wandering off towards the men's room. The bar guy came over, worried. "You OK, mate?" he asked. "Something wrong?"

"Thanks for checking in." Through Oscar's sobs, he smiled a deep smile. "Nothing's wrong, buddy. In fact, I've never felt better."

*

The boys headed back out into the hot sunshine, heading westward again. They rejoined New South Head Road, walking past ritzy Point Piper and through wealthy Edgecliff.

Billy spied a train station. "My feet are on fire, dude. I don't know where you're taking me, bro, but I'm done with this shit. Can we catch the train?"

Oscar's eyes were still a little red from crying, but the rest of his body felt energised. "Suck in the air." He strode forward.

"All I can breathe right now is petrol fumes." It was a busy road, and a BP servo was just ahead of them.

"Yeah, OK," parried Oscar, "but look at the water. It's beautiful, right?"

"Can't drink it," Billy deadpanned. He trudged onward.

Oscar felt alive. He gazed across at Rushcutters Bay Park, one of the prettiest cricket ovals in this part of the city. He felt like walking a lap, or maybe two, but one glance at the sexy yet somewhat sweaty and dishevelled gentleman by his side knew it'd be a bridge too far.

The walk up to the Cross was steep and daunting, and Oscar felt Billy's silent resistance. The half-Latino's stride lengthened as the skinny redheads gait retreated. "You're gonna have to carry me, bro," Billy squeaked. "Fuck me dead, you're a fit cunt."

Oscar walked more slowly, keeping a stately pace with his new mate. "I wanna show you a place."

Ten minutes later, they walked up Darlinghurst Road and into the Potts Point Hotel. Oscar sidled up to the bar and ordered two pints of beer.

"Cheers," Billy saluted, taking a deep swig. "So why are we here?"

"First," said Oscar, "have you ever been here before?"

"Not that I can remember."

"OK, so on Wednesday, two days ago, you helped your housemate move out. I asked for your number that morning, and you were reluctant to give it to me." Oscar paused, remembering the red flags Billy waved. "Do you remember?"

"Yeah," said Billy.

"It was the morning after bate club, and you were stuck in my head. I went for a long walk that day, trying to clear my head, wondering whether I did the right thing to ask for your number." Oscar paused for a second, sipping his beer. "I never expected to hear from you again. I don't know how or why, but I found myself sitting here, in this bar, escaping from the heat. I knew I was gonna text you later that night, because the temptation to contact you was just too irresistible. I knew I was gonna come across as desperate, and at the time I thought you weren't interested in me other than just for a quick fuck after bate club, so I knew I was gonna make a total fucking fool of myself. I had my own pride and self-worth to consider, so I was just about to delete you from my contacts and block your number when you messaged me with some hot dick pics."

"Sliding doors," whispered Billy. "I'm so fuckin' glad you didn't block me."

"Everything would've been so completely different."

"Yeah, I know. I never would've found my sweet bro."

Oscar smiled so hard he worried his face might crack. "Yeah," he trembled. "Same."

"Is that why you brought me here?"

Oscar gazed deep into the brickie's eyes. "Yeah, maybe." He paused for a second. "So why did you give me your number anyway? I mean, you seemed so reluctant."

Billy shrugged. "Because I didn't want to fuck up your life, but it seems I have, without meaning to."

"You haven't fucked anything up," said Oscar. "This is what I want."

"It's what I want too, Oscy."

Oscar moved his stool closer. "I really wanna fuck you again."

Billy smiled evilly. "Let's go."

*

Back at Oscar's hotel, the boys were on the bed, kissing wildly, and just about to tear each other's clothes off, when they heard a polite knock at the door. "Housekeeping."

"No fuckin' way, bro," whispered Billy, "I reckon it's that twink from this morning. We should let him in. Fuck, dude, he's hot as fire. And I need to apologise for farting on him. You reckon you're up for a threesome?"

Oscar gulped. This was new territory for him. "Yeah."

Billy got up to answer the door, naked from the waist up.

"Housekeeping," peeped the boy, looking up.

"Hey," said Billy, holding the door open.

"You didn't go out today?" asked Housekeeping.

"We went out," Billy explained, "but then we came back. It's hot out there."

Housekeeping felt nervous. "I will come in and tidy your room quickly, if you would like for me to do that."

"What's your name?" Billy asked.

Housekeeping was a little surprised. He couldn't ever remember getting that question from a guest before. "My name is Aditya." He was brown-skinned, slender of build, short in stature, and possessed of expressive, dark brown eyes, almost black.

"Very nice to meet you, Aditya. Where do you come from?"

Aditya cleared his throat. "I am from Indonesia." For the first time, the boy looked Billy in the eyes. "Have you ever been there?"

"No, I haven't. Is it a nice place to visit?"

"It is very beautiful," nodded an anxious Aditya. "Indonesia is a very beautiful country."

Billy could tell Aditya's English wasn't strong. "This is my friend Oscar," said the redhead. The half-Latino had used the time wisely: he'd put on a fresh pair of socks.

Oscar walked across the room. "Nice to meet you." The two boys glanced at each other knowingly. Yeah, Housekeeping was pretty, and by the way he alternately gazed at them before avoiding their eyes, they could tell he was nervous, that he was gay, and that he was into them. It felt like a gigantic green light, but Oscar relied on Billy to make the moves.

"After you've tidied our room," Billy suggested, "would you be able to stay here with us for a while?"

Aditya sensed what was up and his heart began to race. "I will be on my afternoon break after I've completed servicing your room." He got to work, replacing used glasses, cups and bowls with clean ones, and making sure the bathroom was clean. Billy stared at the Indonesian's skinny butt as he bent forward to empty the bin.

Aditya walked over to the bed, preparing to remake it.

"Don't worry about that," said Billy, and Housekeeping stopped in his tracks.

"Are you sure?" asked Aditya.

"The beds in your hotel are soft and warm," said Billy.

"It's ... umm ... it's not my hotel," stammered Aditya.

"Would you like to try our bed?" Billy sat on the edge, patting the mattress in an invitation for Aditya to sit next to him. Gingerly, the Indonesian boy sat next the redhead. Billy bounced up and down. "See? Nice and soft."

"Yes," nodded Aditya. "I see what you mean. Nice and soft."

"You can lie down if you like," Billy invited. "I bet you've worked hard today ..."

"I'm not finished yet for the day," Aditya interrupted. "This is just my break."

"All the more reason for you to lie down, so you can refresh yourself."

Aditya's dark eyes were wide. "Are you sure it's OK?"

"Yeah." Billy waited for the Indonesian to lie on his back before making his next move. "Bet you're up on your feet all day, hey?"

"I stand up a lot, but I am young, and it is OK."

Billy unlaced the Indonesian's shoes and plucked off his socks. "Do you get sore feet?"

"No, not really."

Watching from afar, Oscar's cock was hard.

"Everyone loves a good foot massage," Billy suggested. Without waiting for a response, he began rubbing the heels and ankles of Aditya's feet.

"That feels good, mister."

"Call me Billy."

Aditya closed his eyes. "That feels good, Mister Billy."

The redhead ran his strong thumbs under the Indonesian's high arches, moving up to the balls of his feet, and then his toes. He heard the boy exhale as his feet surrendered to Billy's firm touch. "I've got an idea," he said. "Take off your pants, so I can massage your legs."

"If you're sure it is OK?"

"Yeah. I mean, you look after our room, so the least I could do is to look after you."

Aditya blinked. "No other guest has offered this service before."

Oscar couldn't believe what he was witnessing. This was batshit crazy insane.

Billy reached up to unbuckle Aditya's belt. He hauled his pants off gently, folding them neatly and placing them on the edge of the bed, and looking up, there it was -- a little tent pitched right in the middle of the Indonesian's underpants.

Billy nearly drooled as he rubbed Aditya's calves, working his way up to his thighs. "Looks like something's swollen up here," he observed.

"I am very sorry," said Aditya. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Yeah," leered Billy, "but I did." He pulled the twink's undies down, and four inches of uncut brown meat stood to attention. He swallowed Housekeeping whole, and ten seconds later, he was rewarded with a thick gooey batch of sweet south-east Asian boysperm. He gobbled it down.

"I am so sorry," said Aditya, "and thank you, but I think I need to get back to work now."

"Is your break over?" asked the redhead.

The Indonesian boy checked his phone. "No, not yet, I still have fifteen minutes ..."

Billy grinned. He got up off the bed, pulled his shorts down, and fished it out. "You want me to fuck you with this?"

Housekeeping gulped, and the look on his face was the answer Billy wanted. Oscar lobbed his bottle of lube across the room, and Billy caught it one-handed like he was fielding at gully on Boxing Day. He poured thick liquid into the palm of his hands, rubbed it across his fingers, and pushed one inside. The skinny boy from Jakarta sighed.

Billy was rock hard. "Do you want this?" he asked, stroking his cock.

"Yes please, Mister Billy."

"You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," Aditya gasped. "Please fuck me, Mister Billy." His dark brown eyes were pleading.

The freckled redhead hauled Aditya's skinny hips to the edge of the bed. He watched him wince as he pushed himself inside, but the Indonesian's inexperienced sphincter stretched like elastic, accommodating him. He started up a slow rhythm. "Is this OK?"

Aditya's eyes closed. "Yes."

On the other side of the room, Oscar was jacking off. This was like watching hot gay porn in real life. He was happy enough to sit and watch, until he saw the Indonesian's hungry eyes open, and his head turn in his direction. "Please? Can I?"

Oscar walked across the room and rested his shaft on Aditya's juicy full lips. He moaned as he felt himself being sucked into his sweet mouth.

The boys glanced at each other. This was unbelievable.

Oscar felt Housekeeping's tongue loop around the head of his cock, and Billy felt his tight Asian pussy clenching tightly around his shaft. Neither of them could keep this up for much longer.

Aditya's eyes opened, looking up at the redhead. "You can sperm inside me, Mister Billy, if you would like to."

Billy grabbed his skinny ankles, pushing his legs up high. He pushed himself deep, as deep as he could go, and on a downstroke, he busted. His cock twitched uncontrollably, flooding Housekeeping's tight boipussy.

Oscar lost his mind. He waterboarded the Indonesian with shot after shot after shot of creamy semen. He twitched as he felt Aditya swallowing him down hungrily.

For a just second, the room felt post-orgasmically peaceful, until the Indonesian twink announced that his break was over and it was time to go back to work. He excused himself and headed to the bathroom. He crapped and flushed, but made sure the room was of the quality staff aspired to before returning to get dressed. "Thank you for the nice fuck," he squeaked, pulling his neatly folded pants back on.

"Sorry for the stinky fart this morning," remembered Billy.

"That's OK," smiled Housekeeping. He pulled the door closed behind him.

The room fell into a silent disbelief.

"I can't fucking believe that just happened," Oscar admitted.

"Same," responded Billy. "But he was a hot little piece of cunt, wouldn't you say?"

"You called me a size queen before," remembered Oscar. "He was tiny."

"Yeah, but he had a hot hole."

"And a warm mouth," Oscar added, nodding.

Billy raised his eyebrows. "So what's the problem?"

"No problem at all," grinned Oscar.

*

The boys went out for another long walk that afternoon. They sat at a table outside the Bells Hotel in Woolloomooloo, just across the road from the water. They talked about life, death, and everything in between before returning to Oscar's hotel room for one last time.

A storm rolled in outside. They watched a movie in bed, and as they snuggled together peacefully, heavy rain pelted down outside. They fucked quietly one last time.

*

Oscar's alarm sounded at 10am. He yawned and stretched. His week of paradise was over, and it was time to return to the thick shit of ugly reality. Outside, it looked like Sydney was in for another summer scorcher. Billy's arm was wrapped possessively around his waist, and he had to extricate himself from his grip to get up. He rummaged through his luggage, pulling out some clean clothes for the journey home.

Billy's eyes blinked open. "Hey," he offered.

Saturday morning. "Hey, dude. It's check-out time today."

The redhead hauled himself out of bed. "Got time for some breakkie before you piss off? I could strangle a hot coffee."

Oscar smiled. "Yeah, mate. Sounds good."

The boys caught the light rail to Haymarket. There was a café on the ground floor of the YHA building opposite the platform. Oscar ordered eggs benedict and a pot of tea, while Billy chose a plate of pancakes to go with his coffee.

Conversation was stilted and awkward. After the unexpected euphoria and self-discovery of the week just gone, Oscar felt a heavy weight building and forming in the pit of his stomach.

"Got anything planned for the weekend, Oscy?" Billy was just trying to make light conversation to try to break the sombre mood, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew his question was out of place. He wasn't sure what he could say to make things better.

"Probably gonna have to mow the grass tomorrow," came Oscar's matter-of-fact reply. "What about you?"

"Nup." Billy sipped his caffeine. "Nothing."

Oscar scooped some poached egg onto his fork.

They finished breakfast and crossed Pitt Street to where the intercity buses departed. Oscar had a ticket for the Canberra express service -- it'd roll down the highway for three hours, maybe three and a half, before it pulled up in the middle of the nation's capital. The bus was idling, ready to go, and its luggage storage area was open, waiting to accept.

"You gonna be OK?" asked Billy.

"I've got a book, and I've got Spotify on my phone ... my headphones ..."

"That's not what I meant," interrupted Billy, almost on the verge of tears.

"I think I'm gonna be OK," came Oscar's reply. His bottom lip was trembling. "Thanks for asking, though."

"I'm gonna miss you so fuckin' much, Oscy."

"Gonna miss you too, Billy. I'm gonna ring you tonight."

"Good thing you didn't block my number."

Oscar smiled thinly. "I thought we covered this yesterday." He paused for a second. "When's the next bate club on?"

Billy exhaled. "Not sure, mate, I'll need to check. You wanna be the bukkake boy again, Oscy?" he smiled. "You up for some more target practice?"

Oscar tried to smile, but it wasn't easy. "Your turn next time." He checked his phone. The coach was about to leave; it was time to board. "I should get on the bus."

"Save travels, mate."

"I love you, Billy."

"I love you too, Oscy."

They kissed for what felt like an eternity. With tears in his eyes, Oscar climbed the steep brown steps and found his allocated seat.

Billy waited on the street until the bus pulled away.

They waved at each other as the big wheels began to accelerate.

Billy wiped his eyes and caught the train back to his fractured life. He had absolutely no idea what might happen next.