"Whoa…far fucking out!"
Sean heard the voice as he trailed down the hall, a glass of Cabernet cradled in each hand. A self-satisfied smirk crossed his features. It wasn't exactly the most common reaction he'd heard from his visitors, but the genuine enthusiasm boded well for the rest of their evening. His smirk faltered as he saw the light pouring out of the second door on the right, not the left.
"Dude, when you said you had a playroom back at your place, this like, isn't what I was expecting," his guest said, grinning crookedly as he popped his sun-kissed head out of the door—the wrong door.
Sean took a deep, calming breath and joined the young man in the den. He was just in time to see his guest make a beeline for the shelves in the corner.
"Hey, isn't this like the jetpack dude from Star Wars?"
"Boba Fett," Sean answered automatically, gritting his teeth but gamely making no move to stop the young man from pawing his original vintage Return of the Jedi Kenner action figure. It wasn't like it was in mint condition.
"Awesome! I always thought that Jar Jar guy was kinda funny."
Sean smiled tightly. Under the less-than-forgiving lighting in this room, he thought his new friend looked a bit sallow. He cleared his throat and held out one of the wine glasses, hoping to coax his visitor to put the Fett down. He did put it down, on the wrong shelf, next to the Lego Imperial Star Destroyer and the matching Tie Fighter pilots. Sean resisted the urge to put it back in the right place.
The boy from the club took the offered glass of wine, darting away from Sean as his attention snagged on something further down the shelves. "Ooo, neat, you've got the wizard!" he exclaimed, tapping the plastic casing over the talking (20 lines of actual audio from the motion picture trilogy!) Gandalf the Grey action figure, pristine in its original packaging. Sean cringed. Now that he had the chance to take a really good look, he thought the guy's build was more skinny than lanky, which had been his initial impression.
His guest whipped back around to face Sean, mercifully ceasing his debasement of Gandalf's box. "Do you have one of Orlando Bloom?" he asked, hazel eyes twinkling. "Gawd, he is like, so fucking hot!"
"Sure, but his Elvish sucks," Sean muttered.
"Nothing…nevermind," Sean said. "Why don't you try the wine?" he suggested. Perhaps it would be best if they both loosened up a bit more before Sean showed him the real playroom. He was suddenly feeling on edge—not really the right headspace for what he'd had in mind—and beginning to wonder why he'd invited this twink back home in the first place.
The boy dutifully took a gulp, protruding Adam's apple bobbing furiously, and smiled at Sean—more sly than shy, now that Sean thought about it—before his eyes darted over Sean's shoulder to the table in the corner. He slid around Sean and stepped over to his worktable.
"What's up with the sword and loincloth guy?" he asked, reaching for one of Sean's Warhammer 40,000 miniatures.
"Don't!" Sean said sharply, but it was too late, those grubby mitts had already clamped around his space marine. "The primer's still wet," he gritted out.
The twink set the terminator captain down, rubbing his white-stained fingers on the side of his jeans. "Oh, no problem. Don't sweat it, bro." He smiled brightly. It looked simultaneously vapid and shifty, Sean decided. Taking another gulp of Sean's very expensive wine, he shifted his attention to the graph paper lying a safe distance from the painting area. "Cool," he breathed, eyeing the half-finished map. "Are you like, an architect or something?"
"Dungeon Master," Sean answered. He narrowed his eyes on his guest. Really, he wasn't in the mood for the playroom tonight. Best to just go for a quick blow job and send little Keanu on his way. He carefully set his drink down on a side table and crossed over to his guest, wrapping his arms around the boy to fondle an ass that didn't feel nearly as firm as it had looked.
"Mmm, yeah," the boy moaned eagerly, arching away as Sean began to suck on his neck. He leaned back against his table. There was a sickening little crunch as he brought his palms down on its surface.
Sean froze. "What was that?"
The twink laughed nervously. "Whoa, looks like I just crushed your pontoon boat," he said.
Sean shoved him away and looked with dismay at the smashed remains of his 25th anniversary edition model of the Star Trek Enterprise. The glue had just set this week. He spun around and glared at his guest. The guy was seductively unbuttoning his shirt, revealing an underdeveloped chest, showing no remorse whatsoever. This wasn't even worth a quick blow job.
"I think you should leave."
The boy paused in removing his shirt, shaking long hair out of his eyes as he looked up at Sean in surprise. "Whoa, seriously?"
"Yes, I think it would be best."
"Okay man, your loss," he said, shrugging back into his shirt.
Sean breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the front door shut. He flopped down in front of his computer and decided to see if anybody in his guild was online.