Page 36 of Survival Game

Eric grinned as Kyle, looking more than frazzled, glowered at a two-hundred-pound drag queen who was battering her eyelashes shamelessly at his—boyfriend? He still wasn’t quite sure what to call Kyle after the last two weeks. Two incredible weeks of hot sex, cuddles and finding out they both loved Vietnamese food. And Alexander Skarsgård.

They hadn’t done much talking about personal stuff, but Eric was at the point where he felt he could talk about Lincoln. He only hoped Kyle would open up soon about whatever gave him nightmares.

Eric sighed. We’re a right pair; both of us with our bad dreams and three am wake-up calls. At least the cuddling each other back to sleep makes up for it.

Cuddling that occasionally led to sleepy, comfort sex.

Tonight, it was the Annual Hoity Toity Tart Fashion Show at Club Delish. It was a major event and had driven Kyle to distraction, even with Ryan’s limited help during the recovery stage of his convalescence.

Kyle paced up and down the stage, gesticulating angrily. “Calypso, I don’t care what Delilah told you. Those beams won’t hold you both and I have to think about health and safety.” He glared at Calypso Cockbottom, who simply rolled her eyes at the dramatics.

“And it’s not only you two I need to worry about,” Kyle said cattily. “I have to worry about you both flattening anyone who might happen to be standing underneath you when the swing gives way.”

Calypso opened her mouth and screeched in horror. “Oh, you little bitch. How dare you? It’s not my fault you look like one of those candidates for Carnival of the Skinny Man Whore. Some of us love our extra pound of flesh. Don’t we, Qunta?”

She flicked the Japanese fan she was holding in the direction of another queen, who stood on the side-lines, smirking at the show playing out centre stage. Eric had been highly entertained for the last ten minutes as the argument escalated, and had seen the amused glint in Calypso’s eyes as she baited Kyle.

“Oh, yes, honey,” Qunta Kryptonite agreed, as she simpered at her partner. “Some of us like a little something to hold onto while we fuck. We don’t want to cut ourselves on the bones of said skinny man whore.”

“I am not a man whore,” Kyle said between gritted teeth. “And I’m not skinny. Am I, Eric?”

Shocked out of complacency, Eric thought quickly. “No, babe, you’re not. Nice and lean is what you are.” He sidled up to Kyle, lowering his voice. “You do know these two are just riling you up on purpose, don’t you?”

Kyle looked at him and winked. “Oh yeah. It’s a game we play. Hang on for the ride.”

He strode over to Calypso and prodded her ample chest with each word he spoke. “You.Are.Not.Having.A.Sex.Swing.On.My.Stage. Got it?”

Calypso flapped her fan in his face and glared. “Fine. I’ll talk to D. She’ll let me have one.” She flipped her long black hair over her shoulder and motioned to her partner. “Come on, darling. Let’s go find Delilah. She won’t be as bitchy as this one.”

“Don’t go busting her chops,” Kyle warned. “She’s still recovering from her surgery and you’ll have Mango to deal with if you cause her grief.”

They both looked worried for a moment. “We’ll manage him,” Calypso didn’t look so sure, but waved a hand in Qunta’s direction. “I’m sure two of us weighty bitches can handle little old Mango.”

As the two queens exited stage-right, Calypso looked back and flipped her middle finger at Kyle. He flipped her back.

Eric shook his head. “Wow, this is something else. You need some sort of psych education and qualifications to deal with that kind of crazy.”

Kyle sniggered. “I have it in spades. In Vegas, they were big, bold and brash, and you had to learn to give as good as you got. Calypso is pretty cool. She might go to Ryan and ask him and he’ll tell her the same thing. He was the one who told me to stop the idea in its infancy. Not enough balls to do it himself.” Kyle laughed loudly. “And Mango won’t let them bug his man. He’s become über-protective. That’s why Ry hasn’t been around much. Too busy being loved up and pampered by a reformed Mango. Mind you, Ry deserves it after all he’s been through.”

Kyle frowned and stuck out his hip with a turned wrist on it that angled his elbow at forty-five degrees. “So, you really think I’m not too skinny? I don’t really care about the man whore comment because, well, there might be a grain of truth in that, but skinny? Pfffft.”

Eric pulled Kyle’s face toward him and planted a kiss on his lips. “No, you’re just the right shape and size. We fit together perfectly.”

Kyle smirked. “We do indeed. Like a mortar and pestle. Except my arsehole is tighter.”

Eric couldn’t help a guffaw at that. “Jeez, you have no filter.”

Kyle sidled up and wrapped his arms around Eric’s neck “And don’t you love it. Thanks for changing your shifts around to help me here today. It’s been a bonus.” His lips found Eric’s and he worked them into a deep and passionate kiss.

All thoughts of oversized drag queens dangling from sex swings disappeared from Eric’s mind.

Chapter Eleven

Kyle peered around anxiously at the throng of people waiting to see the fashion show in support of Ryan’s chosen charity—supporting brain tumour sufferers. Club Delish was full to brimming; the turnout had exceeded expectations.

“This is great,” he muttered to Eric, who stood beside him. “Ryan is as high as a kite on the numbers.”

Eric nodded. “I suspect it’s because of Ryan. His customers hold him in high regard. I guess this is an opportunity for them to see he is well.”