The Grumpy Young Men Series
"Where'd you go?"
Steven Richards glanced back over his left shoulder to his sleepy lover, whom he had left only moments ago on the bed. Crash Holly pouted imperiously down at him, his expression twisting when the night's coolness caressed his thrall-warm skin.
"I needed to catch some fresh air," Steven explained, pausing to sip from a handy cup of lukewarm coffee. He indelicately groped his immodest lover with his eyes as he paused in the sliding door's threshold. "Put some shorts on, babe." He retorted, smirking cheekily.
Crash glanced down at his nude, forgotten, limp member, his cheeks turning rosy, "Oh!" he uttered, turning back into the room. Steven listened to the rustling in the room behind him sentimentally. Crash reappeared, closing the door behind him, but carefully leaving it unlatched. The chair beside him squeaked. His warmth wafted over to his sentient body.
Crash absent-mindedly reached for Steven's discarded copy of "Romantic Times" Magazine. Steven heard the floppy noise the magazine made as his lover thumbed through it. But his eyes were focused on a point beyond the little motel room terrace, over the misty, vaguely-visible mountains looming over the city they were in.
"If I were a prince, I'd take you away somewhere...just you and I together, off in the mountains...and we'd live off of dewdrops and of berries and sunshine, and I would be at your heels and you would be at my thighs..." Crash sighed. Once. Twice. Then he could feel his lover's molten breath in his ear as he exhaled against his outer ear. Steven turned his head and met his bluish eyes.
"What?" Steven asked, a bit perturbed at having his faraway thoughts disturbed.
"This," Crash proclaimed, dumping the glossy publication in front of Steven. It sprawled open to a picture of a young woman, her mouth open and gasping, her eyes crossed (As if she had the flu, Steven thought), her clothes disarrayed, showing mounds of (in his opinion) unappealing breasts and rounded thighs. The stud holding her wasn't too bad, though; nice pecs. He expressed that out loud, and ducked a light slapping gesture flimsily executed to his direction from Crash.
"Not the pictures...the feelings...the emotions..." He groped for meaning in his statement, "Sug, we'll have been together for six months tomorrow. Do you remember?"
A look of immediate panic crossed Steven's features, "Of course I did!"
"Liar."
"I am not.."
"The romance is being sucked out of our relationship!" He proclaimed hotly, "Soon I'll be slaving over a hot stove..."
"..Mike..."
"...To give you a dinner, but you won't be grateful, NO...you'll bring home your suit-and-tie cronies unexpectedly, runing little May-Ling's coming-out party..."
"Erin..."
"...And she'll want to go back to Korea and leave me, after I gave up my career to raise her!"
Steven's pale, aqua-colored eyes became saucers of incredulity, "Baby, calm down.."
Steven jumped as his words were married with an identical utterance from an all-too familiar voice. A slamming door echoed from below them, followed by an "oof!"
Crash's brows knit as he peered over the side of their terrace. His jaw dropped. "Lawler!"
"He and Stacy have a fight?" Steven asked, glad to have the tension dissipated.
"Uhh..." He swallowed, the shouted words and pounding fists answering Steven's questions.
"JR! Come on!! Let me back in, JR!"
Steven rose and drifted to the balcony, his own jaw drifting open as he saw the source of the tension.
"No!" Drawled a shockingly recognizable voice, "Not until you apologize!"
"JR?!" Blurted Crash.
"Jim, you know that Trish means nothing to me!"
"Oh yeah?! I've got one word for you; Debra!"
Jerry's eyes bugged out and he Pavlovianly piped, "Puppies!"
The door slammed again. Jerry began to beg and whine once again. A window squeaked open, and he was plastered in the face by a pair of his own pants, followed in rapid succession by other articles of clothing. Jerry suited up, covering his Elvis boxer shorts with a towel.
"Let me in!" He cried, "Or I'll sing our song."
"Sing until your liver turns green." JR sniffed.
Jerry teetered back on his heels, a devilish gleam in his eyes, "As you wish, dear." He smirked, then sang in his own endearing off-key voice:
"honey pick the red corner shoes
the ones that hardly ever get used
i knelt in front of my whole collection
and i'm picking you a special selection.."
Steven smiled to himself, mouthing the words as Crash hummed the melody. It was an old favorite of theirs.
"let's make peace tonight
the moon is bare and shining bright
let's make peace tonight in a good time.." Jerry sang. Crash wiggled his hips to the beat, offering Steven his left hand.
"i'm callin' on my good friends today
you know the drive's about an hour away
and we'll be pitching up a tent by the trees
and we'll be wading in the river to our knees..."
By this time, they were dancing, laughing at the cheery lyrics. They were watusying and spinning in the clean night air.
oh now love's been planted and we're checking out the yield
it's two black dogs and a white one running in the field..."
This time, JR joined in on the chorus:
"...let's make peace tonight
(let's make peace tonight)
the moon is bare and shining bright
(moon is shining bright)
well let's make peace tonight in a good time..."
A wino a few flights up from Steven and Crash pried open his own window and bellowed, "Shut up!!" They turned icy eyes to that precise direction and he almost cowered back from the performance. Jerry's singing was so very loud that the wino's protests were drowned out.
Crash took the initiative, mouthing along to Jerry's singing the next line of the verse,
"...well we used to have some money but we spent it
(used to have some money but we spent it)
yeah so when we want to have it then we rent it
(when we want to have it we rent it)..."
"...but we're cuttin' up the rug and i know you love me love me
(we're cuttin' up the rug and i know you love me)
and the best of everything here is free
(everything here is free)..."
Steven grinned, singing back:
"..oh when things get messy then we tidy up the room
we'll be no stranger to that dustpan and the broom
let's make peace tonight
(let's make peace tonight)
the moon is bare and shining bright
(moon is shining bright)
let's make peace tonight
(let's make peace tonight)..."
Jerry finished up the song, extending his arms, as he sang,
"(let's make peace tonight)
the moon is bare and shining bright
(moon is shining bright)
let's make peace tonight in a good time!"
Steven dipped Crash, giving him a passionately fulfilling kiss that left them mutually breathless.
Jerry panted below them, "So, can I come back in?"
The door below them came unlocked with a click, and a creaking announced the door's reopening. "I forgive you. This time."
Jerry's eyes lit up with a fervor usually reserved for extoling the virtue of a woman's chestular area, diving back through the opened door and closing it behind him.
Steven tipped Crash so that he stood on the balls of his feet. "Feel loved yet?" He asked, grinning naughtily.
Crash smiled gratefully, kissing Steven's forehead, "My heart's beating harder than it has in days."
Steven scooped Crash up into his arms, closing the connecting door with his good foot, planting him on the bed, and dropping the curtains in a quick, uninterrupted move.
"Sug?" He asked sleepily?
"Um..hmm?" Steven answered, his own eyes drifting heavily closed.
"Promise me we'll be like them when we're their age."
Steven's lips curled up dreamily as he pecked Crash's forehead, "As long as the moon shines bright, I will be here for you."
"What about the cloudy days?" He teased.
"I'll wear red-cornered shoes." Steven grinned.
The next day, Steven Richards presented Crash Holly with a pair of expensive, red-bordered loafers.
Crash in turn presented his lover with two black lab puppies and one snow-white Scottie.
Jerry Lawler pretended oblivion. But he could be heard roaming the hallways singing "Peace Tonight" beneath his breath the entire afternoon.
Tho no one noticed, JR's foot tapped happily, keeping the beat to their secret love the whole time beneath the table with a pair of red-cornered shoes.