Lights Out

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Sometimes, things really do go bump in the night!
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I was so looking forward to a good night's sleep. I'd put in an extra four hours' overtime to help catch up on that fuck-off great pile of testing that was due to be reported on Monday, and was feeling pretty drained. Whilst there wasn't exactly a lot of heavy lifting to be done in the lab, I did spend nearly all of my time on my feet. It was just as well that I only had a short walk back to my flat at the end of it - and, after a quick microwave dinner and a relaxing shower, I was ready to drift away into the arms of Morpheus. Even if it was only half-nine at night. It was going to be a great relief not to have the alarm going off in my ear at 5:30 tomorrow morning - it'd be Saturday, with only a trip to the gym and a bit of shopping to worry about. Bliss!

The bed was so comfortable, and my eyelids so heavy. I began to drift off...

There was a loud bang, sounded like it came from outside on the stairs. "OW!!" A man's voice. I lifted my head from the pillow, startled by the noise but still half-asleep. "Fuck it!" Again from outside. I thought I had best go and take a look at what was going on. It seemed quite close by, but there are only six flats in the small block where I live, stacked on top of one another over three floors, and Frank - the bloke living just opposite me - was on holiday. He was the only one of my neighbours I saw much of - because I often headed off to work at the same time as he was going down the gym in the morning - but he'd only moved in about three months beforehand, and we hadn't really got to know each other well. Which was a shame, because Frank seemed like a really nice guy, he was about my age, and I was (at last) getting over the end of my last relationship and feeling like putting myself back on the market again. Not that Frank was likely to be gay, of course. But it does, I thought to myself, no harm to dream.

I looked to my alarm clock for the time, but it was dead. Strange. Oh wait, not much light coming in through the bedroom window, either. Guess there must've been a power cut... I hauled arse out of bed and staggered my way towards the door, pausing to fish out from my chest of drawers the pair of navy blue tracky bottoms that I usually wore for bumming round the flat. I pulled them on and went out into the hallway, which was lit up by the emergency light - a small torch sitting in a dock plugged into the power socket. It came on automatically when the power went off. Always helpful in the event of the electricity going down, doubly so when you're wandering around half-naked and half-asleep in a virtually dark room. I picked the torch up and used it to help me see what I was doing, as I fumbled both the catches on the door so I could get out and see what all the fuss was about.

I pulled the door open and went out onto the landing. I peered over the railings and shone the torch down the staircase. Frank looked up at me - he was stood about half-way up the flight of stairs, dressed in a hoodie and shorts, a large suitcase stood on the stair next to him. He squinted, shielding his eyes from the bright light.

"Oh, hi there Rob. I hope I didn't startle you. I was coming back up the stairs when the lights went out at just the wrong time. Caught me a bit by surprise, tripped myself up. I'll probably have a nice fat bruise on my shin come the morning."

"Don't worry about it mate, I just heard the swearing and wondered who the Hell it was. Didn't realise you were due back today, must've lost track of the time. Judging from what I've seen out the window, looks like the whole estate's blacked out. The emergency lights really ought to have come on in the stairwell automatically, I'll have to ring up the management people about that in the morning."

Frank grabbed his case, and traipsed up the last few stairs and onto the landing.

"I was looking forward to getting myself warmed up, showered and fed," he said wearily, "but if the power's going to be off for the night then I guess I'm just going to have to tuck myself up in bed and deal with everything else in the morning. I think I've only got frozen food left in the flat and, of course, the oven's electric."

Before I'd had time to think it through, I found myself throwing Frank a lifeline. "Well, why don't you come and keep me company for a little while? I've got some food in the fridge and a few tins of this, that and t'other that I can heat on the hob. Beats going hungry."

"Are you sure, mate? I don't want to put you to any trouble."

I was quite certain that this wasn't any trouble. I was waking up a bit more now, and realising I had the opportunity I'd been trying to find for weeks: to get to know this guy a little better.

"I'm quite sure Frank. It won't take me a few minutes to sort things out."

"Well... OK, since you're offering. I'll just dump this suitcase in my flat then I'll be with you. Oh, and if you'd mind not shining that torch in my face..."

"Oh, sorry about that!" Ugh! Sometimes I'm such an idiot.

As Frank let himself into his flat, wheeled the case into the hallway and then locked back up, I had time to start fretting. I realised that I wasn't wearing anything but these tracky bottoms, and I needed a shave. Hope I didn't look like too much of a slob. Hoped he liked his men with hairy chests as well. Actually, hope he liked men full stop. Shit, he was probably straight and I was really jumping the gun here. What if I got a hardon? No chance of hiding a tent pole in these things. And what if hitting the sack had left my hair in the usual mess? I'd only been laid down five minutes, but all the same - just my damned luck.

"Thanks very much for the invite Rob. It feels really bloody cold in my place, and I could do with a proper meal. I've not had anything since lunchtime - hanging around the airport, the flight, pissing around waiting at the other end, eager to find a cab and get back before it was too late, you know how it is."

"Yeah, very true. Have had a long day myself, shedloads of work needs doing at the moment. Hence the just out of bed look, I was actually settling down for an early night when I heard all the banging and crashing outside. I'm not in the habit of wandering around the place half-naked." I gestured to Frank to come in, and offered him my torch. "Here mate, I know my way around all the clutter in here. You go through to the front room and sit yourself down, I'll just go and make myself decent and then find a bit more light. I've some candles and holders in the store cupboard somewhere."

Frank came in through the door, grabbing my shoulder and giving it a friendly squeeze on the way through. "Don't sweat it, mate. You're looking decent enough to me. Sit around my place in less than that all the time - what does it matter when you're at home?" His grip was strong, and I fancied that he took just a little more time releasing it again than might be expected just for a passing gesture. His hand slid briefly down one side of my chest before dropping down by his side. Was this guy just tactile, or could he actually be interested? He walked on through whilst I went to find the candles; there was virtually no light to see what I was doing, but fortunately I'd left them in an obvious place just in case of such a situation. I grabbed the box, and was shocked to feel my hand trembling a little! The excitement of the thought that perhaps Frank really was available, combined with the desire not to fuck this opportunity up. I wanted to ask him on a date; besides, I'd not had sex for ages, and I wasn't far off forty years old, and some way past the point at which I'd lost even the limited interest I once had in nights out down in London, looking to pull a hot lad in a bar.

I could feel my dick starting to stir. I stood still for a moment, took a sharp intake of breath, and then brought the stuff out of the cupboard and into the kitchen. There was a little more light from the windows there. I found my matches, set out and lit a candle in each of the available holders, and started ferrying them out of the kitchen and into the front room.

I nearly dropped the light I was carrying. Frank was sat on the sofa, he'd already taken off the hoodie and was in the process of pulling his t-shirt off over his head. I couldn't blame him - I had let it get a little too warm in the flat - but even so, your house guests don't usually strip to the waist as soon as they get through the door! Even in the guttering light of a candle flame on the other side of the room, he was clearly a well built lad. Although I'd given up playing some years ago after an injury, I put in the hours down the gym trying to maintain a rugby fit body, and I preferred my men with some beef on them as well. Frank finished stripping off the t-shirt and laid it on the seat next to him - and it was easy to see that he clearly fitted the bill.

"You've got this place looking nice, Rob - from what I can see of it anyway. Hey, you don't mind my making myself comfortable, do you? It's pretty hot in here!" Hot in more ways than one, I thought to myself.

"Certainly, make yourself as comfortable as you like!" I smiled. He smiled back, giving me a flash of gleaming teeth that contrasted strikingly with the darkness of the surrounding skin: somebody else hadn't found time to shave today, and he obviously had a heavy beard to keep under control. I'd seen that smile before, but had to admit it was ten times hotter when the wearer was sat on my sofa, wearing his cargo shorts, trainers and nothing else. Frank was making himself very comfortable indeed, and was showing every sign of wanting to settle in for a good while. Oh shit. I was pretty sure now that he was interested. Must stay calm. Must. Stay. Calm.

I felt like going straight over there and kissing him, but didn't want to fuck it up by being too forward or seeming like I was only after one thing. Even though, by that point, it was already difficult to think of very much else. From this position, I could've had us both naked and on the bed in about thirty seconds. Mastering my nerves, I put the candle on my small dining table and went to fetch the next one. I started asking Frank about his holiday and, as I set out the rest of the lights and then started making dinner - a quick and easy Bolognese - the conversation also turned to our working lives. He was in quite a high-pressured job in sales, and liked to get away for a couple of weeks' Winter sun to break up the long dark months. My job sometimes needed me to pull extra hours, but he made clear his envy as I explained that one of the things I liked about it was that I could usually just go home on time in the afternoon and forget about work completely til the next day.

"It's ready!" I brought the plates through - most of the food for him, and a little snack for myself - and put them on the table, where I'd already set two places. Frank sprang off the sofa and came over to join me. I couldn't help but stop a moment to admire his stomach: the definition in those abs... his chest was nearly bare, but I fancied that I could just see the start of a little fur at the waist, the promise of a tasty dark treasure trail leading to the prize that I hoped he wanted to give me. I was certain he noticed me checking him out, and I may have given the game away in another form as I felt that my dick was rapidly reaching full extension. Only the low light in the room served as any sort of disguise for what must've been the increasingly obvious bulge in the front of my loungewear. Sitting down at the table, it was easy to imagine that he was naked down bottom as well as up top; I wondered if he was having similar lewd thoughts about me.

Frank set about clearing his plate with gusto. He was obviously feeling pretty ravenous. I picked at the little serving I'd set aside for myself, more interested in watching him eat. The well-muscled arms, wielding the fork industriously like a shovel. The strong-jawed, stubbled chin. The short, jet black hair, with just the first flecks of grey scattered through it. So fucking handsome. I was a bit out of practice at this game, but I was just going to have to grow a pair and ask him if he wanted to go out... or, perhaps, if tonight might even count as our first date...?

I tried clearing my throat, getting ready to follow my instincts - but I didn't get the chance to start talking.

"You know, Rob, this is pretty good. And served by romantic candlelight, too. If I didn't know any better I might think you were trying to pull me."

A wicked grin spread across Frank's face. I was just struck dumb. 'If I didn't know any better...' Had I got this all wrong?

"Sorry mate, I'm pulling your leg and I shouldn't. Fact is... if this ain't too big headed of me... I can tell you fancy me. You've been checking me out ever since I moved in here, I just reckon you're too nervous to move things along. But that's OK..."

Fuck me, this was embarrassing! My cheeks must've been burning red with shame by now. I'd thought I was being discreet, when in fact I'd been drooling all over this poor bloke like a lovestruck teenager. Shit, I was meant to be thirty-eight, not thirteen! "Errrr, I'm sorry. I never..."

"Wait Rob, let me finish. What I was trying to say was, that's OK, because I know where you're coming from. I've been wanting to ask you out for a while, but... well, last time I did this, with a guy I'd convinced myself was gay, he turned out to be straight. And pretty homophobic with it. Seriously, I'd never been so far wide of the mark. It was so humiliating."

I sat back in my chair and took a big breath out. The relief was enormous. I hadn't been imagining it, Frank was gay. More than that, he had actually been struggling with the same dilemma as I had. Both wasting months, both dancing around the issue when in fact each of us wanted to take the other out. That moment was like a dam breaking, and the flood of relief was palpable.

Freed from the inhibitions that had caused us to hesitate from revealing our true feelings for one another, we began to flirt across the table - and to talk about how we'd both come to be where we were in life. I told Frank all about my last relationship: I'd been living with a younger man for a while, he was genuinely kind and loving and the physical side of the deal had been really great, But things had got tense over our social lives - he was very extrovert and keen on partying, I was often only interested in a bit of R&R and it just being the two of us after a long day or week at work - and we'd not been able to make a go of it. I'd been hurting since he left, and was only just starting to get over it when Rob had moved in next door. I'd seen a chance to start over with someone who seemed closer to my own age (turned out he was thirty-five, so I was pretty much on the money,) but the conversations we were having never got around to anything personal, and I was too nervous of blowing my chance to actually make it happen in the first place to attempt to tease out clues as to his sexuality.

Frank chuckled when he heard that last bit. He said that my gaydar must've been on the fritz with him as badly as his had been with his old neighbour, because he'd been flirting with me and undressing me with his eyes progressively more and more as we'd begun seeing each other regularly in the morning. Turned out that he had actually adjusted his gym time a little so as to try to make sure that he met me out on the landing as often as possible during the week. That, and he'd stopped wearing his suit out the door and changing down the gym, and started heading out in his vest and shorts, giving me plenty of chance to see those sexy, muscular arms and legs. It was so bloody obvious when he told me that I couldn't believe I'd been missing it! But he'd not been able to take the final step and make a pass at me since that experience where he lived before, where that nasty guy he'd asked out had threatened him with violence, and called him a faggot and other cheap names in front of the neighbours. Frank was no wimp and he returned the verbal abuse with interest; nevertheless, he didn't want that kind of trouble twice and I didn't blame him.

I wasn't sure how long we'd been sat there talking - maybe fifteen, twenty minutes? But the plates were long since cleared when I got round to asking him if he fancied anything for dessert. Frank got up from the table, giving me a great close up view of his tight stomach, and walked round to my side. I looked up into his dark brown eyes, captivating pools catching the reflection of the candlelight in the semi-darkness. "Yeah," he said, "something sweet." He grasped both my shoulders - the firm grip on my bare skin felt electric - and leant in for our first kiss. My lips met his eagerly. It was very tender, and gentle, with just a hint of roughness from his stubble, and was over in a moment. He backed off a little, and I could read the desire in his eyes, just as I'm sure he must've done in mine. He let go of my shoulders, and I pushed back the chair and got to my feet.

My hands now locked onto his shoulders, and his went round my waist and quickly found their way down to my backside, feeling up my arse through the single, thin layer of cloth. I stepped forward, shoved him back against the wall with force, and went in for the kill, locking my lips against his and going for it hard. Almost immediately our eager tongues were sliding past each other, as bare chests pressed together and hard cocks began to grind through what little clothing we still had on. After months of each of us wondering if the other was up for it, we both wanted to make this thing happen, and happen now. I felt Frank release his grip on my rear and run his strong hands up over my hips to my chest, pushing us apart slightly and breaking the kiss. He ran his hands up and down my chest and stomach, enjoying the view.

"Mmmmm, nice... fit AND furry, just how I like my blokes."

"Then it's just as well it's had time to grow back. My ex liked me smooth. The break-up was painful in more ways than one, itched like fuck for weeks afterwards - even if it did cut down on the razor blade bill."

Frank looked back up. "More fool him. No wonder you two didn't stand the test of time. You'd be better off with a guy who'll take you as you are."

"Hmmm, you have someone in mind?"

A cocky smirk cracked across Frank's face. He said nothing, but his hands went wandering again. He grabbed the waist of my tracky bottoms, dropped to his knees and yanked them right down. Almost immediately, warm, moist lips enveloped the head of my cock, then he took a firm grip on my bare arse. I gasped, then looked down to see him beginning to suck me off, firm, slow and long, working that gorgeous mouth right the way down the shaft. The pressure that he brought to bear on my thick, neatly cut six inch rod felt excellent! I was soon moaning gently with the pleasure, as I reached down to run a hand through his short black hair.

"Fuck yeah! Mate, you know what you're fucking doing. Yeah, work that cock..." Frank responded to my words of pleasure by working it even harder, taking the whole length, burying his face in my crotch, pulling back and then taking the length again, over and over. He had me so hard by then, that if he wasn't already grabbing and kneading my arse and using his grip on it to push my hips right forwards towards him, I don't think I could've restrained the urge to piston fuck his face. I could feel my bollocks tightening up against my body, and was wondering how much longer it would be before I shot my bolt, when he pulled away. I wanted my hard cock back in that warm mouth, but Frank got back to his feet with something else in mind. Another long, deep, feral kiss - and then...

"Fuck me Rob." He grabbed hold of my dick. "Fuck me. I want this up my arse."

This was a surprise. I didn't know whether Frank had a favoured role in the sack, of course. But before, and especially after, tonight's little heart-to-heart over the dinner table, I'd seen him as being the more outgoing and confident of the pair of us, and assumed that he'd be wanting to take charge in the bedroom. Guess you never can tell - and I certainly wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to put my fuck stick to good use.

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