Two People Walk Into a Hotel Bar

He licked Everly's lips and aggressively slipped his tongue into his mouth. He dug his fingers into his back, not bothering to be gentle.

He flinched, barely resisting pulling away from him. He kissed him, though it was not aggressive or passionate. It was simply a kiss.

He laughed as he pulled away.

"Come on, I'm almost there--put some effort into it or I'll never be done."

He shoved Charlot away so he could reposition himself, leaning over and running his tongue along the shaft. He had said no to giving him a blowjob earlier, but he just hoped it would be done more quickly if he did it like this.

He grinned, patting Everly on the head.

"Now that's more like it! I like deep throating, you know."

He glared at Charlot.

"Fuck you," he replied, licking him again. He sucked on him, though the actions were filled with reluctance.

"No need to hold yourself back--I know you want me," he said, forcing Everly to take more of him into his mouth.

Everly bit him as gently as he possibly could, which is to say not very gently at all. He glared at him, daring Charlot to make another move.

Charlot moaned softly, but yanked his hair.

"Gentler, or I'll have to reciprocate."

Everly flinched audibly. Now that his mouth was full, he couldn't verbally berate Charlot for touching his hair. He could feel himself becoming more and more worked up about the situation. He really, really didn't want Charlot touching his hair. Now he forced himself to be gentle, licking and sucking as gently as he could, but once he was done, he was going to beat the shit out of him...

Charlot came soon after, but sighed deeply, laying down on the bed.

"That was...what is the term...lackluster. No passion toward the end. You disappoint, Monsieur Everly--I had hoped I wouldn't have to train you."

Everly sat up, immediately punching Charlot in the nose. He hoped it broke.

"Fuck you, you stupid fucking cunt," he spat. "How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to touch my fucking hair, you faggot?!"

He stood up, running his fingers through his hair.

"You should fucking die, you have no respect, you fuck."

Charlot punched Everly back, climbing on top of him.

"Oh, you want your lesson the hard way?" he asked condescendingly, chuckling. "I'm more than willing to oblige you."

"Don't make me kill you," he hissed. "I will fucking do it. After everything you've put me through tonight, I'm willing to just fucking end you."

"I understand this is how you are when you fall in love," he cooed, rubbing his nose against Everly's. "I don't mind."

"What the fuck are you going on about?!" he snapped. "I despise you. You have no respect for me, how could I ever like you? Letalone love you?!"

"I respect you greatly--you just don't respect yourself."

"...what?" he asked, confused. "What are you going on about now? You don't make any sense!"

"Look at you struggling and swearing and getting yourself worked up over nothing," he said, stretching his massive shoulders. "You're not being honest with yourself because you're not comfortable with yourself--you could learn a lot from someone like me."

"I'm not worked up over nothing!" he hissed, clenching his fists. "I'm worked up over you. You touch me, and molest me, and harass me. You disgust me. I don't...I don't want to revert to how I was before my wife died. I want to stay how I am now."

It was a lie. Just like Charlot had said, but Everly didn't care. He refused to listen to him.

"I'm merely trying to break through that shell of yours," he sighed, shrugging. "It's no matter to me whether you like it or not--I'm not interested in your satisfaction, I'm interested in you."