Boys Gone Wild — What A Drag by Kimberly Gardner

What A Drag

Copyright 2009 by Kimberly Gardner, all rights reserved.

The screen door on the tiny office banged open. Drew glanced up from the bicycle tire he was patching and let out a silent whistle. From where he sat at the work-bench in the garage, he had a perfect view into the rental office of We Be Bikin’, the bicycle rental business he ran for his parents.

At the counter stood the most gorgeous specimen of college boy good looks Drew had seen in a long time. Which was saying something considering the influx of very hot man-flesh he had seen around town over the last few days. God, how he loved spring break week!

He let his gaze slide down the athletic body from the broad shoulders to the narrow waist, slim hips and very fine ass and further down the mostly bare and very tan legs lightly dusted with brown hair.

Mmm. He could so imagine those legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into that delicious little ass.

Except this one had straight boy written all over him.

Drew grinned to himself. Maybe he just hadn’t met the right guy yet. Laying the tire aside, he slid off his stool and sauntered into the office.

“Can I help you?” Drew smiled his very best, not-quite-professional smile, the one that got him laid pretty much whenever he wanted. And right now he wanted.

“Oh, hey.” Collegeboy turned from his examination of a flyer advertising the local spring break events. “I’d like to rent a bike.”

Drew’s breath caught. Up close, the kid was even better looking than he’d first thought. His hair was cut in one of those shaggy, this-is-not-an-expensive-haircut haircuts. And the color which he’d at first taken for a nice medium brown was, upon closer examination, every color from deep chestnut near the roots to sun-dipped gold at the ends.

Drew imagined running his fingers through that luxurious mop as he fed his cock inch by inch into collegeboy’s pretty mouth.

“Well, that’s handy because bikes we got. How long do you want it?” Drew slipped behind the counter and reached for a rental form.

“How long can I have it?”

I got one that’s just the right length for you, babe.

“You can have it for a day or a week or …”

“A week would be good.”

“You here on break?”

He nodded. “Till Saturday.”

Drew slid the form across the counter. “I’ll need you to fill this out. Name, address, where you’re staying and a cell phone number. Then I’ll need to see your license and a credit card for the deposit.”

“Do you have a pen?”

Drew grabbed one from the cup under the counter and held it out. When collegeboy took it their fingers brushed.

Drew’s dick stiffened. Thank FSM for the counter between them. His cutoffs weren’t up to hiding this degree of interest.

He watched as collegeboy filled out the form. God, even his hands were sexy, long-fingered with a light sprinkling of gilded hairs on the backs. As he wrote, Drew followed along upside-down.

“Your name’s really Oliver?”

“Yeah. You can call me Ollie though. Most people do.” He signed the form then pushed it and the pen back across the counter before reaching for his wallet and extracting a credit card and driver’s license. He held out the cards. “And what can I call you?”

Drew lifted his gaze and met Oliver’s melt-you-in-your-sneakers blue eyes. “I’m Drew.”

“Yeah? You look Asian. Where’d you get a name like Drew?”

“Same place you got a name like Oliver, I imagine.”

“Really? You mean we have the same parents? That’s funny, I don’t remember ever running into you at the breakfast table.”

Drew laughed. Oh man, not just pretty but with a sense of humor too. Please, let him be gay, or at least willing to experiment.

“If you got a breakfast table maybe we can fix that.”

Oliver’s grin flashed.

Oh my god, look at those dimples!

Drew entertained a brief fantasy in which he stuck his tongue in each of those dimples as well as any others he might find on this boy.

Before he could get carried away, he picked up Oliver’s rental form and slipped it into the standing file he kept for current rentals. As he turned back around, Oliver quickly glanced away.

Collegeboy was checking him out.

Hmm, maybe not so straight after all.

“The bikes are around back. Come with me.” He led the way through to the garage and brought out a bike, midnight blue with white racing stripes. “This one okay?”

Oliver nodded.

“try it out. Make sure it’s the right height.”

The other man threw one leg over the bike and perched experimentally on the seat.

Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be that seat, tucked up all cozy between those strong thighs.

Drew held up a wrench. “Need me to adjust your seat?”

Oliver laughed, his teeth very white in his tan face. “You can adjust my seat anytime, Drew.”

Drew’s head spun as all the blood rushed from his brain to his dick, and what was polite interest only a moment ago suddenly became a raging hard-on.

Oliver knew it too. He let his eyes slide down Drew’s body and linger at his crotch. He licked his lips.

Oh yeah!

“Can I maybe take you out later?”

“I’ve got to work tonight,” Drew said with real regret.

Pale brows lifted. “Do you rent many bikes at night?”

Drew laughed. “I work in a bar at night.”

“What a coincidence. I drink in a bar at night. Maybe we could make it the same bar.”

Drew hesitated. This was the point where he most often lost out. What to do? What to do?

Oliver’s smile dimmed considerably. “If you’d rather not …”

“No, I’d like that. I was just … thinking, is all.”

What the hell? What did he have to lose anyway?

From the pocket of his shorts he pulled a business card and the stub of a pencil. He scribbled the address of the club and passed it to Oliver. “Try to get there by nine if you want a table. The show starts at nine-thirty and it gets crowded after nine.”

Oliver took the card and slid it into his pocket. His eyes never left Drew’s face. “There’s a show?”

He nodded. “Oh yeah. It’s an awesome show.”

“Cool.” He propped one foot on the pedal. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

Drew watched him peddle away.

Oh yeah, He hoped he would be seeing more of Oliver tonight, a lot more.

***
Backstage at Mango Mango, Drew peered at his reflection in the makeup mirror and adjusted the waist-length curly black wig he wore. He didn’t much like the wig. It was hot and it made his head itch. But at least the dark color went with his Asian looks and golden skin-tone.

He smoothed his hands down the green sequined gown that hugged his false titties and clung to his slim hips.

One of the other “girls”, a blonde bombshell named Ingrid, poked her head into the dressingroom. “Ooo, very sexy hon. Love the dress. Is that for the mermaid number?”

Drew nodded. Uncapping a tube of scarlet scandal lipstick, he carefully rouged his lips. “How much time do I have?”

Ingrid glanced at her watch. “About two minutes. Shall I tell Randy you’re ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

As Ingrid disappeared, Drew picked up a black leather rosebud from the dressing-table and tucked it in his fake cleavage. He studied the effect with a critical eye. Yeah, it would do.

Sliding his feet into his green sequined high-heels, Drew went out to wait for his cue. As the music came up and Randy’s voice boomed through the club, Drew peeked through a space in the curtain.

Was Oliver out there? When he realized what sort of club Mango Mango was, had he turned his very attractive tail and run screaming into the hot Florida night? Or was he even now sitting at one of the high round tables and wondering where Drew was?

“And now ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your hostess for the evening, Salacia Cummings!”

Lights flashed, music blared and Drew stepped through the curtain. Sashaying to center-stage, he scanned the faces of the patrons seated at the front tables. He smiled and blew kisses as he searched for Oliver in the crowd.

He wasn’t there, at least not up front.

Drew picked up his mic and made as if he meant to suck on it.

The audience cheered.

“Hello my darlings,” Drew called in his most seductive drag-queeny voice. “How is everyone tonight? Are you ready to have a good time?”

More cheering.

The intro music faded. Drew’s music came up and he began to dance.

He continued to look for Oliver as he lip-synced, danced and flirted his way through his routine. He changed costumes, glugged water, freshened his makeup and fought for space in the cramped backstage, all while still hoping his collegeboy had not blown him off. But by the end of the show when he left the stage and began working the crowd for tips, Drew had to make a real effort to keep his flirtatious smile in place and not let his disappointment show.

Then he saw it. At a table in the back, a familiar head of sun-streaked hair atop broad shoulders.

Drew’s heart, as well as other parts of his anatomy, lifted and he danced over to Oliver’s table.

Drew’s skirt swished as he danced, the thigh-high slits in each side revealing lots of leg and sparkly fishnet stockings. He straddled Oliver’s lap and wrapped his arms around his neck. The other man’s gaze lifted to meet Drew’s. Clearly he had no clue that the drag-queen on his lap and the boy from the bike shop were one and the same person.

“How’s it going, sweetheart? You got a tip for me? Or maybe can I have the whole thing?” Drew leaned close and placed his lips next to Oliver’s ear. “It’s me, Ollie. Drew. From the bike shop.”

Blue eyes widened. Luscious pink lips formed a silent O of surprise. And for one frozen moment nothing happened.

Ah well, win some, lose some.

But when Drew started to slide off of Oliver’s lap, hands closed on his hips and dragged him close. Oliver fused their lips together. The kiss hot and hard and hungry and just what Drew liked. He wrapped himself around his collegeboy and kissed back.

Oh yeah, he so loved spring break!

Written by Kimberly Gardner

As early as the seventh grade, Kimberly remembers slashing her favorite rockstars and reading romance. So it’s not surprising that her two passions, romance and putting pretty boys with other pretty boys, should come together in her writing. Moliere said, “Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, then for a few close friends, then for money.” Kimberly is delighted to finally be doing it for money.
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