Adumbration
It was out of boredom, more than tiredness, that Boris decided to take a nap. Putting down his copy of the newspaper, he stretched out on the couch and closed his eyes.
About twelve seconds later, the doorbell rang.
He let it ring a few more times before opening his eyes, sighing, standing and walking to the door.
"Hello?"
"Well, are you going to let me in, or not?"
It was Porl, soaked with rain, arms full of loaded plastic bags. He had a large, cheeky grin on his face, and his long hair dripped onto his shoulders.
"Oh - ah - of course! Come in." Boris nodded quickly, stasnding aside so that his friend could enter. The guitarist put his bags down, then gave Boris a brief, wet hug before hanging up his soaking jacket.
"Could you bring me a towel?"
"Oh, sure." Boris returned with a large bath towel, and locked up the door again as Porl dried his hair.
"You should get out of those wet clothes." Boris remarked, bringing a sweater and jeans out from his closet. "Go have a nice hot shower and put these on; I'll toss your stuff in the dryer."
"Thanks, man." Porl stripped quickly and headed for the bathroom as Boris took his clothes down to the basement laundry room.
Boris stretched out on the couch again, waiting and passing the time by watching the TV.
"Anything good on?" the other man inquired, as he sat down in an armchair, towelling his hair dry again.
Boris looked over with a shrug and was about to say something when he noticed that Porl wasn't in the clothes; he wasn't in anything at all.
"Ahh! Christ! How indecent." he laughed, throwing a pillow at his friend, pretending to cover his face but secretly peeking; his band-mate was a sight to behold.
"Such a prude!" Porl stuck his tongue out and settled the pillow over his groin. "Better?"
"Put on those clothes!" The drummer rolled his eyes and dumped the sweater over Porl's head. Porl laughed harder, and threw the pillow back to the couch. He shimmied into the jeans but refused the shirt. "You watched me."
"Didn't!"
"Pervert."
"Only when it comes to sexy lads."
"And chicks. How's yours?"
"She's visiting her mum this weekend." Boris sighed, leaning backwards over the pillow and stretching.
"Pity." Porl came over and sat on Boris' legs. "She's adorable."
"And I'm not?"
"No. You're hot."
"Dead sexy!"
"Ego running away again?"
"You started it." Boris gave Porl a playful little shove. He got up then, and wandered over to the plastic bags. "What did you bring me?"
"Cutlery!"
"..." Boris gave him a dry look.
"Ever killed a man?"
"Um, no..."
"Ever had sex in a pool of blood?"
"...Porl, are you feeling all right?"
"I'll tell you; it's the most amazing thing..."
"Porl, if you're serious..."
Porl picked up a rather nasty-looking knife and slid it from between Boris' eyes to his groin. The drummer swallowed. "Um.."
"You're curious. Admit it."
"No!"
Porl traced the outline of Boris' arousal. "Liar."
"That's - "
"You sick bastard." Porl chuckled, sidling up to Boris' side. "You want to see what I mean, don't you?"
"No - "
The knife was at his throat.
"Trust me; it's to die for."
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