Just Passin' the Time

You were standing outside the bar, sick of being around drunk people. Outside wasn't much better, just quieter. The glow of the streetlights was calming, so it was tolerable.

You walked around the back, hoping to be alone. The dumpsters were deserted, probably because of the smell. Drunk people don't like the smell of beer and piss. To be fair, most sober people don't either.

You leaned your head against the brick wall, feeling the bass thump against you. Drunk people poured out the front door, the concert had presumably ended.

"You mind if I join you back here?" A voice shook you from your thoughts.

"Go ahead," you responded, turning your head to the voice.

"Thanks man, I'm sick of people," the voice replied, shaking a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket. "Want one?"

"No thanks," you replied, eyeing the man up, gaze landing on his mohawk.

"Well, you're one for words," he replied, lighting his cigarette and taking a drag.

"Hey man, I'm sick of people too," you laughed, moving closer to him. He took another drag of his cigarette, staring at the city across from him. You followed his gaze to a pigeon on the roof, preening, feathers flying everywhere.

"He's up late," you nodded towards the pigeon. The man next to you hummed, moving his foot closer to yours. You looked down at his Adidas and smiled.

"You enjoy the show?" He asked, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

"It was pretty good," you grinned, "a lot better than I expected."

"That's good," the man laughed and stubbed out his cigarette. You pressed your foot harder against his, feeling him push back.

"You know," he said, shifting to face you, "you look pretty good for someone hanging out by a dumpster."

You laughed, pushing yourself off the wall to face the man better. "Thanks. I'm usually not a dumpster goblin, but sometimes I have to be."

The man smiled and put his hand on your bicep, squeezing lightly. You felt thick callouses on his fingers. "A musician?" You asked.

"Guitar," he replied and stepped closer. You could smell cigarettes and beer on his breath.

"That's pretty cool," you nodded. "How long have you been playing?" You moved your hand up to his mohawk, pushing it back.

"Too damn long," he laughed. The man tilted his hand into your touch, a small smile on his face. "That feels nice. I don't get massages very often."

"I don't give them very often," you said quietly, rubbing behind his ears. You typically didn't touch weird alley men this much, but there was something special about this one.

The man reached up to your hand on his head and laced his fingers with yours. He squeezed your hand quickly before leaning up to kiss you, standing on his toes. Your eyes widened in shock.

"Sorry," he giggled and stepped back. "I was just getting that vibe, you know?"

"No!" You replied. "I don't mind. You can do it again. Really. It was nice." You pushed your hair behind your ears and grabbed for his hand.

The man grinned and lunged back toward you, connecting your lips. One of his hands grasped the wall next to your head, the other on your hip. Your hands wrapped around his neck, lightly rubbing circles on his back.

You felt the man smile into the kiss, squeezing your hip. You sighed and trailed one of your hands down his chest, landing on his belt.

The man pulled away and gasped. "You know, you can take my pants off." He lightly touched the hand resting on his belt.

You laughed and pulled him towards you by his belt. "I'm not sucking dick in an alley."

He grinned and kissed you again, flush against your body. You wrapped your arms around his lithe body, hands landing in the back pockets of his jeans.

The man whimpered quietly into your mouth, causing you to squeeze his ass. He pushed his hips against you, sighing into your mouth. His hands moved from your shoulders to your arms, rubbing and squeezing them frantically before moving back up to your shoulders.

"Fuck," he whispered, pushing his hair back off his face.

"You okay baby?" You asked quietly, smirking. He slowly lifted his eyes to meet yours, a small smile gracing his lips.

"Yeah," he replied. "Just getting a little worked up."

You moved your hand to cup his face, momentarily rubbing your thumb over his cheek. "Why don't you lean against the wall for now?" The man nodded and ungraciously fell against the wall next to you.

You smiled and moved in front of him, placing your hands on his shoulders. He bit the corner of his lip and looked up at you, moving his hands to your hips. "Now what?" He asked breathily.

"This," you responded, moving one of your hands up to his mohawk, tugging slightly. The man closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, his brows furrowing together. "You look good like this," you said, nipping at his slight Adam's apple.

"Yeah?" He grinned, moving his lips to meet yours. The man bit your lip lightly, causing you to moan. You moved your hand from his hair down to his belt, smiling at the bulge you felt.

"That's good," the man whispered into your cheek.

"You like that, baby?" You asked, squeezing the bulge in his pants.

"Can't you tell?" He snickered and spread his legs. You stepped forward, moving one of your legs between his. The man wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. He kissed the side of your neck, drawing out a gasp. You squeezed him again through his tight pants.

"Fuck," he gasped against you neck. "Please keep touching me like that."

"Since you said please," you murmured, nuzzling against his head. You rubbed him through his pants, eliciting a small moan.

The man dug the nails of one hand into your shoulder, the other fisted into the front of your shirt. He drew in a shaky breath that he exhaled as a small whine. "You can stop if you want."

"Do you want me to?" You replied, slowing the movement of the hand on his pants.

"No," he replied quickly. "But most people don't want to watch a guy cum in his pants in an alley."

You laughed and kissed his cheek before continuing to rub him through his pants. The man buried his face into the crook of your neck.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he murmured against your neck.

"I'm ignoring your warning," your replied, kissing the top of his head. The man bit your neck, whimpering quietly. He began to grind his hips against your hand. You realized he was doing it to the beat of the music coming through the walls of the club.

"Just let go, baby," you whispered. You stuck your free hand into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling him towards you.

"Oh, fuck," he whined into your neck. The man gripped your hair as he began to grind his hips erratically.

"That's it, baby," you purred, rubbing him through his orgasm. You kissed his head as he caught his breath.

"You okay?" You asked quietly. You wiped your hands on your pants, trying to dry them off.

"Yeah," the man replied and stood up. He pushed his hair back and wiped his face, smiling lopsidedly at you.

"That was fun," you said as you stretched your back, wincing at the cracking.

"Yeah," he replied, adjusting his pants. He pulled out a pen from his pants and grabbed your hand, wiping it on his shirt. "Here's my number. Call me sometime?"

"Yeah," you smiled and looked at the number. "I'd like that."

The man nodded and put his hands in his back pockets. "I'll see you around." He pecked your cheek before scampering back into the bar.

You stared at your hand as you walked back home, committing it to memory. You opened your front door and grabbed the first piece of paper you could find. Only when copying down his number did you realize you never got his name.