"I dare you."
Clucking tongue. Shaking head. "Don't say that. You know they can't resist."
One giggle. Two giggles. A third.
Fingers rake over silk and lace. Two hands rifle through one rack after another.
"I double dare you."
More giggles. More shaking of the head. "I'll leave you here."
No one protests. No one believes him.
"How do you know what the sizes are?"
Frantic searching. The tags give no indication. Finally, a small whoop of triumph. A pack of Fruit of the Looms waved in the air. "What is your hip measurement?"
A quick consultation to the back of the package and two thongs are pulled from the rack - one a bright pink and black leopard print; the other turquoise squares against a black background.
"I'm telling you right now, I will leave all three of you here if you even THINK about going through with this."
Hershey's Kiss eyes search his face, looking for a hint of real threat in the words.
"I triple dare you."
Blue eyes, set inside deep laugh lines, turn downward. "I'll leave you here too."
More giggles.
They find their way to the self-check lane. $8.64 is a small price to pay for a little fun. Search for the men's room. Dash inside. A few moments later, they return, handing a bag with their clothes to their friend before heading off down the main aisle.

Elijah covers his mouth, trying hard not to laugh any louder than he was as he watched Dom and Orlando strut through the men's wear section. Luckily, it's 2 a.m. and the store isn't that crowded. Viggo stands next to him, arms folded across his chest, trying to look stern. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Elijah giggles again as he grabs Viggo's arm. "C'mon! We have to follow them!"

Viggo shakes his head. "You follow them," he says, turning toward the exit. "I'm leaving." Without another word, he walks out. Elijah watches him for a moment, debating whether he should follow as he sees the others coming up through the junior's department. A quick glance over his shoulder - no Viggo. He shrugs, then runs to join the others.

Insane. Completely, totally, 100% without a doubt. Viggo leans his head against the cool glass of the window, watching the spectacle from the lobby. He should leave them. It would serve them right. Elijah had obviously been planning this all along. After they left the recording studio, Orlando said he was hungry. Elijah suggested pancakes. IHOP was in the same shopping center as Wal-Mart. When they had finished eating…

"I need to run in there and get a few things." Such an impish little voice. So sweet. So innocent. He should have known. I'm too old for this, Viggo thinks as he watches Dom and Orlando dance in the aisles. This was their own little showcase, and Elijah was the director. They were going to get arrested. Or, judging by the stares they were getting from the cashiers, at least molested.

After the incident with the fountain in New Zealand, nothing surprised him any more. Images flow through Viggo's mind - Dom and Orlando, bungee jumping. Surfing with Billy and Elijah. Marking their territory in the tallest fountain in the middle of Wellington. There was no limit to what they would do. That was painfully obvious now.

There was a group following them now. He knew the store employees were fascinated. Who wouldn't be? Two of the hottest actors in the world, walking through their store in nothing more than women's underwear and their T-shirts, half of their bare asses hanging out. This would make wonderful fodder for the tabloids. A reflection in the window catches his eye and he turns. A police cruiser made its way slowly through the parking lot.

Orlando and Dom were playing tag in the electronics department when Elijah stops, pulling his ringing phone from his pocket. "Lo?" Giggling again. "The cops are in the parking lot. You better get them outta there." Dom stops, seeing the look on his lover's face. "What is it, Lij?" he asks. "Vig says there are police in the parking lot." Orlando rolls his eyes. "He's just trying to get us to stop acting foolish." The young men think for a moment before continuing through the store.

Pacing. Watching. Pacing and watching. Viggo checks his watch again. They've been in there for twenty minutes now, dancing through the aisles of the store. I'll give them five more minutes, he thinks. Then, I'm leaving. Seriously. Let them figure out how to get back to his house. Maybe the nice police officer would give them a ride home.

Turning from the window, he walks to his car, leaning against the door. Pulls a cigarette from his pocket. Flips open the top of his lighter and watches the flame dance in the late night breeze. He takes a long drag before he bursts out chuckling. Orlando did look pretty hot in that thong. Pink was definitely his color. Shake of the head. Another drag. A slight stirring in his pants. They need to hurry.

A key turning in the lock. Car door opens. His body connects with the seat as he looks toward the store. Three lithe young bodies run from the door, whooping triumphantly. Key in the ignition, the engine starts smoothly. The trio piles into the car, reminiscent of a gang trying to escape a robbery scene. "Drive!" Shaking his head, Viggo pulls out of the parking spot before the doors are even closed.

"I should have left you there."
A warm hand on his thigh, traveling suspiciously upward.
"You wouldn't have."
"I should have."
"But you didn't."
"I don't know why."
"You love me too much."
The hand connects and he fights back a moan.

The sounds from the other side of the wall permeate the room. Soft moans, punctuated with giggles. There was no urgency. No rush. Orlando was laying on the bed, wearing nothing but the flimsy pink and black thong. Viggo leans in the doorway, a slight smile on his face. "You look awfully pretty." He's rewarded with a smile. A smile bright enough to light up a thousand rooms. "At least you didn't say I looked pretty awful."

Long legs drop open. The material barely contains the swollen mound of flesh. His heart races. His jeans tighten. Slender fingers start to trace the leopard print bulge. His shirt lands somewhere near the doorway. Halfway to the bed, the jeans drop to the floor. Totally naked. Totally aroused. Desire fills his eyes as he looks to the bed. Totally mine, he thinks.

Orlando's hand meets his. Wet. Sticky. Viggo sees the bottle of lube on the bedside table and he smiles. "Impatient, are we?" he asks as the wet hand circles his cock, coating it. Orlando is face down, his ass slowly undulating in the air. Hands reach up to remove the thong, but are stopped. "Leave it on." One hand moves the small string to the side as the other slips one finger…two fingers…a third into the tight heat.

Not much preparation is needed before Viggo replaces the fingers with his hothardthrobbing flesh. The thin strip of material is stretching, rubbing against the side of his cock as he slides in…out…in…out. Rising up on his knees, pulling the hot, writhing body with him. One arm around the slender waist of his lover. One hand caressing, squeezing, massaging the silk covered bulge.

Moaning.
Sweating.
Thrusting.
More.
Harder.
Faster.

White-hot flashes. Tension coiling in their bellies, spreading out like a thousand butterflies taking flight on a warm spring day. Hard, rigid flesh meeting soft, spongy tissue inside. Their voices combine in a symphony of lust as they both explode, filling tight heat and silky material with the evidence of their love. They collapse, slowly coming back down to earth. Stained silk thong joining a pile of clothes on the floor.

They hug.
They kiss.
They lay in each other's arms, listening to the sounds from the other room.
The sound of a sharp slap to bare skin, followed by a loud moan.
Orlando looks to the wall.
Viggo's gaze follows, an eyebrow raised in question.
A giggle. A look from his young lover, the same question in his eyes.
"I dare you."

~un·a·bashed adj. 1. Not disconcerted or embarrassed. 2. Not concealed or disguised.~

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