"Wait a minute—mmmff—Paul—wait a second, when is Janie coming home?"
"Don't worry about her, John—"
"Don't worry? Why shouldn't I worry? Ummfff—get off, Paul—"
With what seemed to be a great effort, Paul unlatched his lips from John's and sat upright, still straddling John's hips. His hair was tousled and he appeared a little short of breath. "Not for at least a few hours. We've got the place all to ourselves until then." He crossed his arms and pouted. "Can I get back to what I was doing now, please?"
John appraised his petulant expression for a few seconds, then pulled Paul back down on top of him. Paul deepened the kiss even as he simultaneously struggled to pull his own jacket off behind his back.
Only a few moments earlier, he'd returned home to find John lounging on the couch in the den, practicing the ukulele in a soft t-shirt and jeans, bare feet crossed casually up on the coffee table. He had glanced up at Paul innocently over his clear-rimmed glasses and that was it. John had already been their house guest for several weeks while he was staying in Los Angeles filming a TV show, but Paul still wasn't yet used to coming home to these kinds of tempting sights. He had pounced without first pausing to remove his tweed jacket, bow tie, or shoes, and now he was being forced to acknowledge his lack of foresight.
John stopped him again with a firm hand to the chest. "Do you want to go back to the bedroom, get ourselves a little more comfortable, take things a little more sl—"
"No time," gasped Paul as he finally managed to disentangle himself from his jacket, which he flung to the floor. He kicked off his shoes without untying them and whipped off his bow tie in one smooth motion. "And too much talking from you—"
He balled up the tie and promptly shoved it deep into John's mouth. John gagged and Paul took advantage of the moment of distraction to tug off John's t-shirt and fling that away, too. It landed on the discarded ukulele with a toneless twang.
John got his coughing under control and gazed up at Paul, who looked half-ravished already. He knew Paul must be seeing a similar sight: they were both a little frantic, a little flushed, mustaches disheveled. He decided Paul was right—there was no time for talking.
Paul dived back down and began insistently kissing and sucking John's neck. Their hips ground together slowly and John's soft moans were muffled by the silk (He could have just spit it out at any time, of course, but where was the fun in that?). He arched and squirmed at the pleasurable sensory overload as Paul gradually kissed and licked his way down John's neck, his chest, his ribs, his stomach, and then—
The door swung open suddenly and Janie stood in the doorway. The two men had been too distracted to hear her enter the apartment. They froze and then jerked apart guiltily.
She stared at the two of them for a few moments. "How...could you…?"
Paul began to stutter a reply, but before he'd managed to say anything coherent, she cut him off.
"How could you start without me? You were just going to let me miss all the fun?!"
"You said you'd be home late and we couldn't wait that long!"
"Ugh, men! So impatient! If you weren't too preoccupied to check your phone, you'd've known I was rushing home early." She looked at John, half-undressed and pinned down helplessly. "But I can see you've been busy." She noticed then that he was gagged and her eyebrows raised, her interest instantly piqued. "Although to be fair, I can't say I'd be able to wait either, if I were in your position…"
She strode over to her husband and kissed him fiercely out of equal parts admonition and acquittal. When she finally drew back, the look of lust in her eyes was unmistakable. She addressed John. "Well, well, well. You have been a fantastic house guest so far, haven't you? What kind of fun are we going to have with you tonight?"
John looked up at his two friends. He found himself hoping his TV show would be a huge hit just so he'd have to stay in Los Angeles for a long, long time.