Big Mack Pt. 10

He sucked Mack’s dick into his mouth, and the cubicle shuddered as the mechanic nearly lost his footing. “Fuck, punk,” said the mechanic, “you got me so horny watching you wash your pussy and listening to your filthy mouth, I don’t know how long …”

Yoshi already knew. The moment he put Mack’s cock in his mouth, he knew he was gonna lose his shit fast. “We don’t need to make this any longer than it needs to be,” he said, “so just let it go.”

Mack’s balls exploded, and Yoshi choked a little as he swallowed. A few stray droplets escaped his mouth, landing on his cheek. He looked up at the mechanic, knees trembling as he clung desperately to the top of the cubicle railing.

“I’d like to take this opportunity to acknowledge the solemn sacrifice made by your sperm,” the emo declared. He flicked his wet hair away from his eyes before looking up at the mechanic with the most serious facial expression he could muster. “They launched into battle in their millions, possibly even billions, thinking at least one of them would spark new life, but right now, they’re all swimming around in my stomach, possibly trying to impregnate the remains of my lunch. It was a good sandwich, and I hope they’re enjoying what’s left of it, but I’m sorry for their loss and their sacrifice. They meant well, and they fought the good fight. Lest we forget.” He paused for a second, pretending to wipe a tear away from his eye. “Perhaps we could show our respect through a minute’s silence.” He bowed his head solemnly, and with warm water dripping down his face and neck, he began quietly humming ‘The Last Post’.

The mechanic laughed so hard he nearly fell over. He reached down, grabbed the emo by the armpits, and lifted him to his feet. Something very special was happening here. He watched the emo breathing, anticipating, waiting for his kiss. He leaned forward, and the emo opened his mouth to accept him. Their arms wrapped around each other.

“I love you,” said the emo.

“I love you too, you funny bastard.” The mechanic grabbed Yoshi’s jaw and held his face close. Their tongues mashed together. “Come to bed with me?”

Yoshi tuned back into reality. “Seems there are three options for me. Your couch, my own bed, or yours.”

“I need to get up for work in the morning,” said Mack, “but I’d love it if you stayed here tonight.”

“You bought me a toothbrush,” Yoshi smirked, “so I guess it makes sense for me to use it.”

“I love how you fell into my trap,” joked Mack. He tried to do an evil supervillain laugh, but it didn’t quite work.

They left the shower and dried themselves before climbing into bed. The emo fished his damp panties out of the washbasin. He rinsed the cum away, but they were far too wet to wear.

Yoshi hadn’t brought any of his uni books or notes with him. He felt sure he had classes tomorrow, but right now, he couldn’t give a shit. He still needed to complete the current semester, but he’d made up his mind to change his course of study after the next round of exams. Besides, he could watch tomorrow’s lectures online anyway.

They lay in bed. Mack was thumbing through a magazine while Yoshi stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. “Thanks for the massage,” he said, rolling over onto his side to face the mechanic.

“No worries,” replied Mack.

“I think you broke my brain,” whispered the emo. “Just so you know.”

Mack lovingly ran his fingers through the emo’s thick, floppy hair.

“My undies are a mess, and I don’t have a spare pair.”

Mack glanced over at the emo. “Panties count as undies now, do they?”

Yoshi frowned. “You know what I mean, smartarse. I don’t have any underwear for tomorrow.”

“You can borrow a pair of mine if you like,” Mack volunteered.

“Thanks, but I doubt you’d be my size. Not in waist, and definitely not in … package.”

Mack laughed.

Yoshi continued. “Where’d you learn to do that, by the way?”

Mack glanced away from his magazine. “Massage, you mean? Umm, I didn’t. I’ve received dozens of massages after rugby matches, but I’ve never learned the art.”

“You just wanted to try it out?”

“Huh? Umm … yeah … err … I guess so. I mean, you watch — or, in this case, you feel — and learn.”

“A bit like you in the kitchen?”

Mack felt confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you said earlier that you ate a meal at a pub one night and thought you could do it yourself. You cooked it for me tonight and, like seriously, big guy, when it comes to the kitchen, you’ve got a gift. And so you did the same thing with massage? You’re lying on the table after a tough game while someone’s rubbing you down, and you’re kind of thinking ‘maybe I could do this for someone else?'”

Mack blushed. “Maybe. I mean, I gave Abby a few massages, and I guess she seemed to like it.”

“You’re a man of many talents,” said Yoshi, running a fingertip across the mechanic’s chest. “I know you need to get up in the morning, so I’m not gonna keep you awake with twenty questions. Just gonna say thanks for letting me stay over again tonight and thanks for trusting me to lock up your apartment when I leave tomorrow.”

Mack put his reading material aside and turned off the light. “You’re welcome anytime, punk.”

Yoshi draped an arm across the mechanic’s strong chest, feeling it slowly rise and fall.

*

Friday afternoon. Mack was into the home stretch at the garage when his phone buzzed. He reached into the pocket of his overalls and took the call. It was his old rugby mate, Ryan. They hadn’t seen each other for a month or so, and Ryan suggested they catch up over a beer or two at the Caxton Hotel that night. Mack showed up wearing his Queensland Reds rugby jersey, a pair of blue jeans, and a sturdy pair of Blundstone boots. A black cap held his long, thick red hair in place. It was cloudy outside as the sun began to set.

Ryan was already sitting at a table, frosty beer in hand. Mack waved as he walked across to meet him. They shook hands. “Hey, buddy,” said the mechanic, spying Ryan’s beer. “Just gonna get myself one of those. I’ll be back in a sec.” Mack backtracked towards the bar, ordered a schooner of Fourex, and joined his mate. “How’ve you been travelling?” he asked.

Ryan took a sip of his beer. “Not bad, buddy. Haven’t seen you in a while. Things OK?” He’d already heard on the grapevine that his mate and his wife had separated.

The mechanic exhaled, reaching for his glass. “Yeah, guess so. Just been busy at the garage. Every cunt in Brisbane seems to have a busted car at the moment. No idea why. What about you?”

Ryan was a greenskeeper at a golf course. “Pretty slow as usual. When it comes to work, I reckon I’ve been kissed on the dick. Even on a busy day, things are still slow, and then, on days when it rains, I sit in the shed and watch it pour.” They caught up on events of the past month before their conversation inevitably turned to rugby.

“You going to the game against New Zealand next weekend?” asked the mechanic. They heard a distant thunderclap outside.

“Haven’t got a ticket yet,” replied Ryan, “but that’s the plan. I need to check in with Hunter to see if he’s keen. I’m sure he will be. Might buy tickets tonight. Should I get one for you? You can pay me back later.”

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