Next Stop

Next Stop
By: TheGoddessofDeath

A/N: Written as a PWP a few years ago. Enjoy.

It had been a long night. Both of the men's clothes were stained with the stench of cigarette smoke and their breath held the essence of scotch and other assorted liquors. It surprised even them that they had enough wherewithal to get on a subway, never mind walk straight. Collins, the older male, could hold his liquor rather well and hardly ever got drunk.

Tonight he was only a bit tipsy.

His lover however, the young Hispanic transvestite known as Angel, was completely wasted. He kept on insisting he wasn't, he always did, but there was no doubt he drowned his senses in the liquor. The pair somehow got to the station to buy the two fare cards safely. Collins bought the cards, holding onto Angel's arm, smartly enough. Otherwise the man would've walked up to some stranger and probably rubbed up against them in the wrong way.

Angel's vision was going from blurry to focused. He let out a shrill laugh when his gaze landed on a homeless man finding shelter from the cold January air. "Hey there!" he said rather loudly, and Collins turned to shush him.

"Angel, shut your mouth."

He giggled and Collins pulled him off and through the terminal gates.

"BYE!" the shorter man screamed loudly at the homeless man.

The train had not arrived, and since it was about three in the morning on a Wednesday night, they ran further apart. A train on the opposite side was leaving the station, the door chime sounding to warn the passengers the door was shutting. Angel laughed loudly at the chime.

"Hey, baby, was that the doorbell?"

Was his lover that wasted? My lord. Never again.

"No, Angel. That was the subway."

This seemed to be news to the transvestite. "We're at a subway station? WOW!"

Collins was almost thankful when the train came into the station. When the doors opened, he dragged Angel into the nearest car and sat him in a seat. There was only one other person in the car, probably as wasted as Angel was if that was at all possible. Collins studied a map to see how many stops they had until they had to get off. Angel's backside barely touched the seat before he got up again and made his way over to the other man in the car. He looked like a businessman who had had one too many shots.

"Hey baby," Angel said, sitting rather ungracefully next to the man.

The man looked at the drag queen and smiled a sleepy smile. "Hey, what's your name?" the man asked.

Angel giggled. "My name's Angel, and that's my boyfriend Collins over there. See?" The words were slurred together.

The man looked over to where the transvestite was pointing. "Oh, he's nice looking. You're a very lucky woman."

Collins turned around after calculating times in his head and saw his Angel flirting with some other man. "Hey bud, stay away from my boyfriend," the dark skinned man growled.

The man held up his hand. "Easy, man. Your cute little boyfriend came over here to talk with me."

Collins grabbed Angel's hand and pulled him up. "You have to excuse him, he's a bit drunk."

The train stopped and the man stood up. "This is my stop. Nice to meet you both." He tipped the hat he was wearing politely and stumbling slightly off the car.

"He's cute, Collins. I think we should invite him to our house sometime. You know, we never had a threesome!"

Collins looked like he was about to fall over. "Angel, are you forgetting we both have AIDS and no one will touch us with a 10 foot pole, at least not sexually?"

Angel seemed lost in another world and Collins sighed, sitting down. The drag queen immediately climbed into his lover's lap.

"Baby, do you know what you do to me?" he said the words as if he was having trouble forming sentences.

Collins put his arms around his boyfriend, kissing his neck softly. "You're drunk, love," he whispered in his ear.

"No I’m not!" Angel protested, starting to swerve his hips in a circle.

Collins groaned, the contact sending shivers through his anatomy. Angel let out loud moans as he continued his seductive dance upon Collins' lap.

"Shh, baby, not so loud!" Collins said in a hushed whisper. He put his huge hand up to Angel's mouth to silence him, but instead the young man took a finger into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the digit in time with his hips. This was all too much for the older male and soon he unzipped his pants to let his straining erection out of its confines.
The hard piece of flesh poked into Angel's thin skirt and he let out a chortled moan. He didn't care if this was a public place, it was practically abandoned, save a few people a few cars over. He needed to fuck his boyfriend right here, right now. He didn't care how drunk his partner was. They both lived by doing things on a whim, why should this be any different?

A hand found its way under the pink skirt worn by the Latino, and he pulled the tights he wore down so that he could have access to Angel's entrance. The drag queen finally registered with what was happening, and he cried out his lover's name loudly. Collins reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a tiny tube of lotion he carried with him for his hands. It was the closest thing he had to lube, and it would work well enough.
Squeezing the moist white liquid onto his fingertips, he rubbed the outside of Angel's entrance for a moment, before thrusting a finger into him. It caught the shorter man off guard and he almost jumped up, but Collins' strong arm kept him still. He began to move his finger in an out of his boyfriend, mocking intercourse as best he could. Angel reached behind him to grasp Collins' cock and pump it. His mouth was agape as he felt his sweet spot being hit, over and over. Feeling his boyfriend's familiar signs of climax, he pulled his hand away.

"Put me in you," Collins whispered angrily.

Angel squealed at his rough tone and eased himself back onto his lover. Collins gritted his teeth as the tight flesh surrounded him. Lights flashed by as they went through a tunnel. Angel grasped onto his boyfriend's jeans as he began to move himself up and down, the lap dance turning into their familiar mating dance.
"You goddamned whore!" Collins roared and grasped Angel's small waist, slamming harder into him. The transvestite liked the feel of the denim against his mocha skin as the two moved frantically toward their completion. Almost... Almost...

The world exploded inside Collins' mind and he saw stars. He came hard, his seed filling Angel completely. He did not stop thrusting until Angel let out one last strangled cry and came with equal force. His semen hit his tights, not spilling anywhere else. Quickly, Collins kissed his boyfriend's neck and put his flaccid cock back into his pants. He pulled up Angel's stockings for him the little ways they had been pulled down. The train stopped and Collins picked Angel up.

"Well, this is our stop. Let's go home and take a shower."

Angel cuddled into Collins' neck and sighed. The edge of the alcohol had seemed to wear off. "Sounds great, sweetie."