(Author note: Kindly edited by TristessaHoward. No 'AI' was used in the writing of this story.)
They met at a hotel in the city on a rainy Wednesday night. Just like the time before, and the time before that. T arrived at 7:30. He walked into the hotel bar, ordered a Negroni from the girl behind the bar and then perched on a stool. He was dressed in a dark suit, neatly tailored with a white shirt and a blood red tie.
He could have been any other businessman lingering in the bar that night. Unlike the others, he wasn't huddled over a laptop revising a PowerPoint. Nor was he sitting trying to make conversation with co-workers whom he pretended to like or playing with his phone. Instead, he sat at the bar, sipping his drink and waiting. In a way this was his favorite part of the evening. A quiet moment on his own where he could enjoy a cocktail and savor the anticipation.
Time passed. The hotel bar began to quiet down. The businessmen from out of town drifted off to the restaurant, back to their rooms, or into the city to revel and make merry. T finished his drink and made small talk with the pretty young girl behind the bar. She was an actress, she told him. She just tended bar part-time to make ends meet. Of course she did.
At eight on the dot, T's phone buzzed. It was from a number not saved in his phone book, but that didn't matter; he knew exactly who it was from. 'Ready. Room 405', it said. T smirked. He ordered a bottle of champagne and two glasses from the full-time actress, part-time bartender, and walked to the elevator.
When he reached the fourth floor he strode down the corridor to the right room, stopping only to check the knot of his tie and the angle of his hair. At room 405 he rapped sharply at the face of the door.
B answered. He pulled the door open a little, to check who was knocking. When he saw who it was he opened it wide and stood aside. He was wearing a long, black silk robe and his mid length blond hair had been fashioned into a pixie cut. He looked stunning.
T entered the room, grabbing B round the waste as he went and pulling him in for a long, deep kiss. Their tongues roamed each other's mouths. B's tasted of spearmint; T's tasted of a sour cocktail.
Releasing B from his grasp, T went to the dressing table. He cleared a space among the lipsticks and brushes strewn about and placed the champagne bottle and glasses on it. B closed the door and locked it. He then turned around and leant back against it.
T turned and looked at him. B was wearing makeup, making his already delicate features even more androgynous. Sometimes they would meet in the hotel lobby, sometimes in a local restaurant, and T would get a thrill from watching strangers ogle B; trying to work out whether he was a boy or a girl. He especially loved observing the straight boys watch B sway across the lobby, the looks on their face as they lusted over him.
B was wearing a soft pink lipstick and a smoky eye shadow. He had drawn a Cleopatra flick on with eyeliner. His already pale complexion was made even paler by his foundation, making his blue eyes pop.
"Good evening." said T.
B smiled back at him.
"Hello. I've missed you." B responded. His voice was lighter and more effeminate than T's
"And I missed you too. We shouldn't leave it so long. You know I can't stop thinking about you when I'm not with you."
There was a lull as each man drank the other in. T was the first to fold.
"I'm going to pour us some drinks. You should get more comfortable."
T began to open the bottle of wine, briskly twisting off the wire cage holding the cork in place. He watched B as he did so. B stepped forward from the door, moving languidly to the center of the room. As the wire frame fell from the bottle, B slowly shucked off the robe he was wearing.
The other man stopped fiddling with the cork to stare at him. Beneath his robe he was wearing lingerie. Across his chest he wore an ivory lace bra, the creamy white skin and delicate pink nipples just visible beneath the thin, pale fabric. Below he wore a matching colored thong; it bulged at the front, concealing the goods within. He was, as ever, completely hairless from the eyebrows down. T could feel himself get hard within the confines of his suit trousers.
"Weren't you meant to be getting me a drink?" B asked with a cocked eyebrow.
T looked down and remembered what he was meant to be doing. He must have been gawking at the beautiful man in front of him. The cork was almost out of the bottle. With a flick, T fired the cork out of the bottle and poured the champagne into the two glasses he had taken from the bar.
He handed one to B, and then they clinked - both looking into each other's eyes. T took a long sip. He had splurged and bought the good stuff. B was worth it. He had bought expensive lingerie after all, the least T could do was get the good bubbly.
B put his glass down on the dresser next to them. He then reached up, working his hands up T's chest. His hands wormed under his suit jacket, and then eased it off. It fell to the floor, crumpled. Neither of them reached down to pick it up.
B stepped closer, close enough for T to smell the scent he had dabbed onto the soft skin of his neck.