“Dear Benjamin Huber,

Thank you so much for participating in the interview at ORK’s. Unfortunately, we are not able to pass you onto the next round at this time, as we are looking for someone with a different educational profile.

Please do not hesitate to bla bla”

“I’m so sorry, Bee,” Mia rested her head on my shoulder.

This sucked. This sucked so badly. I nailed the interview. I dressed smart. I’ve been preparing for weeks. And I failed.

“Don’t worry, I heard Chicken Blitz were looking for people. We’ll get you a cheaper place, and you can come over anytime. Okay?”

I was so tired. Tired of doing shitty jobs. Tired of Mia always saving my ass. Tired of poverty I was born in. I needed an escape, just for the evening. Just for tonight. Then, I remembered. The tiny trophy I brought home a few days ago, might actually serve me.

“Don’t worry,” I smiled, “I’ll be fine. I need to see someone, so I won’t be back tonight. See you tomorrow, though?”

“Sure,” Mia smirked raising a glass of champagne, "Promise, you'll go apartment hunting with me?"

"I promise," I said leaving the room.

----------------------------------------

“Fuck.” I said out loud once I entered the hotel lobby. An old man in the reception gave me a weird look.

The sound of piano streamed through the enormous lobby, gently touching each piece of the vintage furniture. Everything reeked of cleanness and lavishness; even the air had an extravagant smell. It made me want to barf.

The receptionist blatantly scanned me from top to bottom, probably offended by my cheap sneakers polluting their ugly Persian carpet.

“Excuse me,” I rested my hands on the front desk, “Do you know if there’s a man named Viktor in a room 304?”

I watched the enormous eyebrow, occupying a sizeable chunk of the old man’s face, slowly rise, “I’m afraid, we cannot disclose such sensitive information.”

Sensitive information my ass.

“What if he was my long-lost daddy who once left to get some cigarettes?”

The old man seemed unamused by my humorous attempt.

“Okay, thanks for nothing,” I decided to find 304 myself.

It took me a few trips up and down the marble stairs, until I met a maid who kindly showed me the way. 304 was on the third floor, I don’t know how I hadn’t realised it earlier. I marched at the door, and began knocking excessively. If it won’t be Viktor, at least I could pretend I was someone’s long lost son.

The door swung open without a creek, and a familiar figure greeted me:

“Hi, Bee. I didn’t expect you. Come in.” I was surprised he recognised me out of drag.

The room was as superfluous as the rest of the hotel. Why all the rich folk had such a poor taste? I kicked off my shoes and fell into the queen-king-whatever sized bed. It bounced a few times, leaving me amazed by its softness.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Want a drink?” asked Viktor browsing the minibar.

“Sure.”

“Whisky, cognac, tequila?”

“Anything will do.”

Viktor poured two glasses of brown liquid and handed one to me.

“So, do you do this often?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know inviting strangers into your fancy hotel room,” I took a sip. Whatever it was, it was definitely not watered down.

“I don’t consider you a stranger. We’re not friends yet, but I’d love us to be.”

“So, you want us to be friends,” I couldn't disguise my laughter, "so... what do we do now, friend?"

“Whatever you want. We can talk.”

“Like, what? I don't want to hear your dramatic life story.”

“Well, we can both ask each other three questions.”

“Do you have a wife? A partner?”

“I had a wife.”

“What happened?” I uttered fuzzily; my tongue felt heavy.

“I told her I wasn’t attracted to women anymore.” Viktor finally tasted his drink as the smile abandoned his face.

“How old are you?” I asked

“Thirty-seven.” he didn't even bother to find out MY age.

“What do you do?”

“Nope, nope,” Viktor interrupted, “That’s three already. It’s my turn now. What kind of men do you like?”

“Well...” I lifted my booze and let the tiny rays of light pierce the tinted glass, “Someone who’s not an asshole.”

“Well said,” Viktor smirked, “do you find me attractive?”

“Maybe. Last one.”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

I didn’t answer. Talking wasn't why I came here in the first place.

My shirt flew onto the patterned carpet. With no hesitation, his hands copied my movement, and soon his bare chest was pressed into mine. Viktor’s warm breath was tickling my neck as he gently ran his hands through my back. He pulled me even closer and kissed my shoulder. I chuckled.

“What is it?” asked Viktor.

“It tickles.”

“What about this?"

His tongue reached my ear, forcing me to let out a repressed moan. Amused by my voice, Viktor wrapped his arms around me while his lips kept on kissing parts of my face that no one else has ever dared to taste.

Finally, his tongue forced its way into my mouth and we began making out faster and faster until our loud heartbeats synced, fulfilling my egotistical desires. I nuzzled him aside and, still breathing heavily, laid down on the bed. A bit lightheaded and consumed by momentum, I drifted my hand downwards and started touching myself.

Two eyes right above me - now completely obsidian - were devouring each and every inch of my body; finally, the moment I've been craving for. Everything—my heavy breathing and the constant rhythmic movements—made Viktor harder and harder.

My gaze kept on wandering down - from his athletic chest to the gleaming belt buckle. Right before I closed my eyes and firmly grasped the corner of the blanket, I noticed Viktor has licked his lips preparing them for what would happen next: one kiss followed another until his tongue brushed through my stomach and traveled upwards leaving a trail of saliva leading to my chest. Then, still teasing me, it drew a few circles around my nipple, eventually landing in the middle; and the ticklish sensation was gradually transformed into unruly arousal.

With his face still buried in my chest, Viktor slid down my already unzipped jeans. My fists felt sore from clenching, yet I grasped them even more forcefully. A few more kisses caressed my skin: my shoulder, then my chest - so slowly it sent shivers down my spine - then my stomach, my inner thigh-

I gasped.

The last kiss before my heart felt like exploding landed right onto the soft fabric of my boxers. He slid them down with one swift movement and submerged his mouth into me. At this point, I was powerless; just like a puppeteer, his actions controlled each moan I let out, and, ultimately, I lost all self-control I’ve been preserving so vigorously.

When I finally opened my eyes, I saw Viktor touching himself—both his head and his right arm were moving synchronously as he continued to suck on me. Just seeing him there made me overflow with arousal; I didn’t think I could hold it for any longer.

“Viktor-” I moaned, “I will-”

He didn’t answer, just kept on sucking me faster and faster until, all of a sudden, a hot flash struck my core, and just like poison, it spread through my whole body without leaving a single part untouched. I let out a heavy moan and, still shaking, I came into his mouth.

Viktor wiped his face with one hand, still feeling himself with the other. He got a bit closer; I could feel his body heating, and his breathing becoming heavier and heavier. I buried my palm into his face and ran the other through his sweaty hair. He took the last deep breath, looked me straight in the eyes - it was the same gaze that was hunting me in the bar - and just like that he came all over my chest, barely missing my face.

-

I didn't stay for breakfast. I didn't even take the trophy-card with me. As soon as the clock hit 6am, I got dressed and left without saying goodbye. I left a note though.

It read:

"Thanks for everything. I hope we never meet again :)"