Izzie, Jinx and Syd watched as Zay stomped about the kitchen, scowling and muttering. He sat his coffee mug down so hard, it almost broke, and coffee splashed all over.

"So," Izzie ventured. 'I guess things didn't work out?"

Zay sat down. "Of course it fucking worked out. I gave Paul the blow job of his life in a closet. Probably a first for him. Then he blew me off for work." Zay picked viciously at the pistachio muffin in front of him. "Nobody blows me off because he has to work."

Jinx snorted. "Well Paul did, so it's possible to say no to Zaphod the Great."

Zay gave her a look that should have left her nothing more than a pile of ash on the chair. "And your point?" He threw a piece of muffin at her. As far as he was concerned he had a perfect right to throw a tantrum. "One of his assistants told me he's doing a function at a private residence next week. I'm not gonna be able to sneak into that."

Syd ventured out from the safety of her newspaper. "You know where he lives, right? So just be there when he gets home."

All three of Syd's housemates stared at her and Zay went over and gave her a sloppy kiss. "That's brilliant Syd. I'll have to plan it out, figure out what to wear, something that says 'take me upstairs and fuck me senseless'. Something tight."

A much happier Zay finished his breakfast.

Suzy threw Paul a disgusted look. “Didn’t you say the school ordered these custard pies?” she asked, tipping her head at the two trays on the preparation table between them.

Paul looked blank for a moment, and then threw his eyes upward. “No! I said deliver them to the Bistro. The school’s order is right here ...” He picked up the half dozen boxes of chocolate cake waiting on the counter behind him and looked at Suzy.

“Bunny, WHAT exactly did you hear Paul say?”

“Don’t get me involved!” Bunny said quickly, wisely staying out of the spat. “I didn’t hear a thing!”

“Well, you don’t have to say. I know what Paul said. Send the pies to the school, he says, so I send the pies to the school!” She turned to her brother and glared. “And what do you know; they ordered cake, not pies!”

Paul brushed her off maddeningly. “Well, no harm done. Just take these pies to the Bistro – they’ve been chasing for them all morning – and on your way back drop the cakes off! Easy!”
Grumbling loudly, Suzy started to load the trays and boxes into the delivery van. After she had gone, Paul went into the pantry to check his stock.

“Bunny,” he called out, “can you please put in some extra orders for cream cheese? “

Bunny appeared, his hands covered in flour. He gave Paul a strange look, elbowed him out of his way and jerked his head at one of the shelves in the huge double door chillers. “You ordered those in yourself yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Ah ...” Paul said with a slight smile. “That’s right, so I did.”

Bunny peered at Paul. “You ok, boss? Coming down with something?”

“I’m fine,” Paul said shortly.

“You’ve been a bit messed up lately, if you don’t mind my saying so.” Bunny pointed out.

“I’m perfectly all right, no need to make a case out of this. I just forgot.” Paul sounded nettled.

“Well, maybe you should take a break, go lie down ...” Bunny suggested, thinking it was only ten am and it sure didn’t look promising for Paul.

“No, no,” Paul replied somewhat irritably. “Just have a lot on my mind lately. It’s the busy season, and you know how it’s like.”

Bunny shrugged and went back to his dough. “Yeah, no more busy than we were last week, or the week before that ...” he mumbled to himself.

If Paul heard him, he did not show it. He went instead to his office to look through his menu checklist for the upcoming birthday party. After a while, he threw the sheaf of paper down in frustration; he just could not focus.

Damn!

*

Zay had managed to whip himself into a frenzy during the past week and subsequently drove his housemates bonkers. He'd never changed clothes so many times in his life, only to end up more and more confused about what he should wear. It got to the point to where Jinx and Syd were hiding from him. Izzie and Zay shared a room, so for Izzie escape wasn't an option.

"I know I shouldn't have stopped going to the gym, I'm just not buff enough to pull off a hot stud." Zay threw his latest wardrobe choices on the floor with previous rejects and sat on the edge of the bed, lip stuck out in a petulant fashion. "Why is this so fucking difficult?"

Izzie gave forth a long suffering sigh. "Dude, you have ripped arms because of all the drumming, use that. I'm sorry, but trying to go for an innocent, urchin look isn't going to work after you've already had hot and horny sex with the guy in a closet."

"Well, just oral." Zay stood in front of the full length mirror and and flexed his muscles. "You're right though, I do have nice arms. So the dark red tie-dyed tank." Zay dug through the pile of clothes until he found the tank top. "My black leather biker jacket, with all the zippers and buckles, or does that just scream cruisin' the leather gay bars?"

"Yeah. Wear the black denim one."

"Well if I do that, then I have to wear black jeans. And my ass huggingest pair have ripped knees." Zay reached over and took a sip of his beer. "But, I'd kinda look cute, sexy and a little wild all at once. Paul'd be like a deer in the headlights." He sat his beer down. "Let me try it out." He changed clothes for about the fiftieth time in the last hour. "Yeah, I think this will work. My black boots?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. This is taken care of then." Zay set the chosen clothing aside as Izzie muttered his thanks to any and all gods or goddesses listening. "All I have to do now is wait for the big day."

"I'll tell Jinx and Syd it's safe to come out of hiding."

Paul accepted the exuberant praises from the hostess with a polite smile and thanked her appropriately for the opportunity to cater for them (and the big tip as well). Pocketing his cheque, he waved good-bye and made his way to the waiting van.

The birthday party had been a huge success; they had been warned the guests were mostly elderly and Paul had carefully planned the menu to suit their appetites without compromise on the presentation or taste. He had even managed to throw in a couple of exotic hors d’ourves which had won the admiration of every guest at the party.

He didn’t say much all the way home, just listening to the chatter between Bunny and Suzy. Before long, Bunny was parking the van in front of the garage door, and Paul jumped out and said, “Just drop everything off in the wash area, guys. Go home and see if you can salvage what’s left of the evening. It’s not that late. I’ll handle the washing up tomorrow.”

Zay watched the van pull into the drive. He was sitting on the front door steps, obscured by bushes and shadow. A combination of anticipation and trepidation made butterflies dance in his stomach. He'd never been quite this bold before, just parking himself on a person's doorstep. What if Paul took it the wrong way? What if he said no?

Zay snorted at the last thought. No one ever told him no. True, Paul had declined his invitation at the banquet, but that had to be a fluke, the result of Paul being unbalanced by the oral sex in the closet. Well, Paul could make it up to him now. He stood and stretched as Paul walked towards the front door, fighting back an impulse to jump out at him and yell 'BOO!!".

Paul felt the hackles rise on his back as he saw the bushes move, and he readied himself for an attack. The neighbourhood used to be so safe; Paul shook his head at the state of affairs to which the country had deteriorated. His hands clenched into fists, primed for a fight.

He jumped into the porch area and raised his fists, yelling loudly, “Who’s there?”

*Well, it was a good thing he hadn't jumped out and shouted boo, Paul might have punched him in the nose and that would be that.*

Zay raised his arms. "Whoa. Don't go all commando on me. It's me, Zay. You know, the guy from the closet. I'm unarmed and mostly harmless. Really. Sorry I didn't make this week's gig, but I'd kinda stick out at a senior citizen get together, you know?" Zay ran his fingers through his unruly hair and grinned.

It took a moment for Paul to get his breath back and make the connection. Paul had thought about Zay so much the past week that his outline had more or less been imprinted on his mind; yet Zay looked so different standing in front of him. The light was behind Zay and so cast his face into deep shadows. Were his eyes playing tricks on him or had his mind concocted up a false image? Paul heard that cocky voice, and looked again, and as he did, felt an instant tug in his groin – God, Zay was even more gorgeous than he remembered. He looked so – Paul searched for the word and finally settled on sexy. Oh yes, with his black denim jacket and those tight jeans...

Paul swallowed on a suddenly dry throat. “What the hell are you doing here?” he managed to croak.

"You really don't get too many visitors, do you?" Zay shook his head and waved his hand in front of Paul, who looked to be in shock. "Hello? I'm waiting on you to get home, what do you think? So are you gonna invite me in Paulie, or should I just turn around and go home."

Zay crossed his arms and stuck his lower lip out in what he knew was a most fetching pout.
Paul cast a quick look round, and made a decision. He normally would not even have considered inviting a total stranger (barring their fifteen minute session in the closet) into his home but the thought of having a conversation with an excitable Zay on his doorstep in the dark was even more frightening.

“Come on in, you brat,” he growled, and grabbed Zay’s arms. “And it’s Paul! If you don’t mind!” he said querulously.

It wasn't much of an invitation, but it would do. Besides Paul was already pulling him through the door. "Ok then, Paul." Zay emphasised the Paul. "So, gonna give me the tour? Offer me something to drink? I've been waiting for like forever." Actually, it had been maybe ten minutes max, Zay tended to exaggerate things. "Well, are you? It's your house, so I'm the guest and you're the host. So do host like things." Zay waved his hands at Paul.

Paul snapped the lights on in the living room, yanked Zay inside, and turned to face him. “What I want,” he said through gritted teeth, “is to give you this!” He then swiftly gave Zay a loud swat on the seat of his pants. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is to wait for strange men at their homes in the dark?”

"Ow." Zay frowned a bit. "You're not a strange man. I've met you. I gave you oral sex in a closet, for fuck's sake, remember. That's pretty intimate, don't ya think?"

The smouldering eyes that glared up at him, plus the memory provoked by Zay’s words proved too much for Paul. He grunted and let his guts take over. “Oh ya ... I think so ... and I think it’s about time I did this the proper way ...”

Without hesitation, Paul pulled Zay forward, met him chest to chest, then bent and kissed him roughly, mouth open.

*Ah, now this, THIS, was what HE wanted.* Zay responded to the kiss and thrust his tongue into Paul's mouth.

Paul sucked on Zay’s tongue even as he felt his cock respond immediately. Zay was grinding his pelvis against Paul, sending him waves of erotic pleasure. With his mouth still stuck to Zay’s, Paul began to peel off Zay’s denim jacket. Then his hands went to the tank top Zay was wearing, pushed it up, almost ripping it off, and all the while kissing Zay hungrily.

Once he had Zay’s top exposed, he ran his hands over the bare skin, searching for the nipples. He found them, pinched them and teased them, and then his hands dropped down and began to unbuckle Zay’s belt.

At the back of his mind, Paul was vaguely chiding himself and sternly asking; have you gone stark raving mad? all you have to do is see him and you are tearing clothes off, and behaving like a bloody out-of-control hormone crazed teenager?

Paul lost his train of thought as Zay broke off the kiss, biting Paul's lower lip as he did so. Zay pulled his tank top the rest of the way off. Then he resumed his exploration of Paul's mouth. As Zay saw things, he'd been the dominant one in their last encounter, even if he had been the one giving oral sex. Let Paul get behind the wheel this time. He rubbed Paul's growing arousal, still constrained by trousers. Paul moaned, asking for more. Zay obliged. He undid Paul's zipper and damn if his cock didn't pop out like a jack-in-the-box. He undid Paul's belt and trousers and let them fall, as he worked Paul's length.

Paul stilled his own hands as his pants dropped and his eager cock was grasped in a firm grip. Oh God! Zay seemed to know just what to do to send his heartbeat soaring beyond the safe limit. With an effort, Paul pushed away from Zay, breaking the kiss and (regretfully) allowing his cock to slip out of Zay’s fingers.

Paul quickly finished unbuckling Zay’s belt and then, much more slowly, lowered his zipper. The jeans were tight, and Paul didn’t want any accidents. He placed his hands on Zay’s hips, grasped the jeans and slowly sank down to his knees, peeling both the jeans and underwear down firmly.
Zay’s jeans came down like a skin, peeling away from his slim hips. And just like Paul, Zay’s cock jumped up the minute the cotton briefs were removed. Paul placed one hand on Zay’s butt cheek, while the other held the erect cock, and then he swallowed him.

Zay's toes curled in his boots, and he threw his head back. Ah this was bliss, there weren't any other words for it. He closed his eyes and moaned. He did his best to keep his hips still, letting Paul take control, letting Paul set the pace. He ran his fingers up and down his chest, playing with his taut nipples, sending shivers that travelled all the way down to the cock in Paul's mouth. Paul's hot mouth. Damn.

Paul sucked the rigid length, marvelling at the taste and texture. At the closet the week before, he had been apprehensive and controlled; a part of him guiltily aware of the consequences of their actions. Here, in the safety of his own home, Paul allowed himself the luxury of freedom. His hands explored Zay’s lower regions, stroking his inner thighs, grasping the tight cheeks, and then slipping a finger in between them to finger Zay’s opening. He wondered how far Zay would let him go. As he knelt in front of Zay, giving him as good head as he himself got the week earlier, he knew a powerful and intense desire to fuck Zay.

While one hand continued the fondling of his own nipples, Zay let the other one rest on Paul's bobbing head and played with a lock of his hair. Paul's skill had come as a pleasant surprise; Paul had seemed so reserved in their earlier encounter. Zay found the element of danger a real turn-on while Paul on the other hand was a bit more conservative. They'd have to work on that, Zay mused to himself, and then he smiled a bit at his own confidence that their relationship would progress past this weekend. It was an intoxicating thought!

His voice, once he'd found it again, was low and husky. "When you're ready to take this upstairs, I have condoms and lube in my jacket pockets. Or we could just use the couch."

Zay had spoken the magic words. Initially unsure how far Zay would take it, the mention of condoms and lube – and the fact he had them on him! – made it clear in which direction Zay wanted things to progress. Paul gave Zay’s cock one last lick, before he kissed his way up Zay’s stomach and chest. He playfully bit one nipple, catching Zay’s hands and easily holding them captive in his larger ones.

Zay shivered, and his look challenged Paul to get on with it.

With a twist, Paul managed to turn Zay around and pressed him forward so that Zay was bent almost double over the back of the sofa. Zay toed his boots off and Paul yanked the jeans and underwear clear off Zay’s feet and then bent over Zay so that he practically covered the entire length of Zay’s body with his own, his erection pressing into Zay’s back. He let his superior weight rest on Zay, imprisoning him in a very possessive way.

“Couch!” he said as he began to kick Zay’s feet apart. “I hope you like it hard and fast, Zay baby! Now where’s that lube you mentioned?”

Zay licked his lips. He liked being owned physically, taken with no holds barred. Possessed and marked. "In the left pocket of my jacket, the condoms are in the right one. My jeans were just too dammed tight."

Paul retrieved the condoms and lube. He opened a pack and slid the condom on, with a little snap that suddenly echoed rather loudly in both men’s ears. In the midst of their heavy breathing, that elastic snap brought them both back to earth for an instant. Yes, this was indeed happening. Within minutes of meeting, they had practically ripped one another’s clothes off and were going at each other as if this was their one last desperate act on earth.

Indeed it lasted only for one instant. It didn’t even cause a break in Paul’s momentum. Tossing sanity callously over his shoulder, Paul smeared a generous glob of lube on his condom-encased cock, and then with his fingers still slick, slid one and then two of them up Zay’s ass. He worked them in to stretch Zay, and then he quickly positioned his impatiently throbbing cock at the entrance.

Zay knew that lube made things a bit more comfortable in the beginning, but he'd never liked the feel of it. Paul was knocking on his back door, time to relax and let him in, so Zay concentrated on doing just that.

“Ah!” Paul groaned as he sank his length into Zay’s tight opening, sliding all the way in. “Jesus, you are so tight!”

Zay opened his eyes, which he had closed during Paul's entry. Why, he didn't know. And he let out the breath he'd held. He'd never been one for a lot of prep work, he didn't really need it. He nodded his head at Paul's comment; it was about all he could do at the moment.

Paul wasn’t really expecting an answer; the comment was a mere statement of fact - a fact which Paul liked a lot. He looked down at how their bodies were joined and his passion flared. Zay had tracked him, tailed him, toyed with him and Paul was giving him exactly what he wanted – a wild fuck.

The dizzying speed which had brought them to this point meant Paul was almost ready to come by the time he entered Zay, and he could hardly hold back as he began to thrust. He gritted his teeth, sweat running down his face, feeling his balls tighten. Zay seemed delirious too, hands pressing on the sofa seat to steady himself as his body jerked with each thrust.

Paul slipped his hands under Zay, lifted him slightly to free his penis which had been pressed against the sofa back. He grasped that rigid muscle and stroked it firmly, stopping his own thrusting for a moment so that he could stay his own orgasm.

Paul had stopped. Why had Paul stopped? Oh. That felt good. Zay thrust back against Paul, letting him know it was time to begin again. Zay felt about ready to pop. Paul gave him a stinging smack on the rear, muttering something about patience, and then began to thrust once more, hitting Zay's sweet spot over and over. Zay made an almost animalistic noise as he came, spraying his seed on the back of the sofa. He heard Paul's grunt as he came as well, and felt him diminish. Then Paul slipped out and just lay there, draped and sweating across Zay's back.

"I hope you have a good leather cleaner." Zay mumbled, when he had enough breath back for speech.

Later that night, Paul gathered Zay in his arms as they snuggled together in his bed. They had had round two, a much calmer slower version of round one, and this time they had taken the time to get to know one another’s body and to enjoy the experience. This time, they had taken the trouble to murmur sweet nothings into the other’s ear. This time, they had made love.

Paul watched the slow rise and fall of Zay's chest as his eyes closed and his exhausted body ceded the battle to remain awake. He marvelled at the circumstances that had led to Zay being here, right now, in his bed. Funny old word. Paul had always had a sense of something missing, a vague emptiness to which he could not give a name. Who would have thought a brash, bratty catering groupie would be the one to help him name the emptiness and fill it at the same time?
Again, it was a funny old world.

Then, with a yawn, he folded Zay tighter to him and closed his eyes to sleep, thanking whatever god or gods responsible for bringing them together, thinking himself a very lucky man indeed.


T H E B E G I N N I N G