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Hilton L.A.


They'd been talking for ages. The others had gone up to their rooms and they had decided to have one more smoke outside the Hilton LA before bedtime.


The Lead was quite drunk, he'd had several drinks and the other, was really drunk. Really drunk. All kinds of jet lag up all night in a gay bar different country drunk. He was gay and a flight steward.

His pupils smacked around his eye sockets like pinballs. 


He was flirty. The steward. I've forgot his name. 


They share the lift up. Chatting about the steward's boyfriend. The Lead had employed the tactical mention of the girlfriend earlier and once again emphasising that no nothing was going to happen, rementioned her existence and therein her inferred perfection. 


"Well anyway this is me." The pupils almost smashing through his glassy pissed-up eyes. 

"Great to meet you" the Lead said, enjoying the end to the attention and welcoming the finality of the closing elevator doors.


Reaching his own floor, he wandered down the orange Californian hotel corridor. 



The Lead turns and there was the steward behind him. Oddly more concentrated than ever with a conspiratorial tone.


"Listen I know you have a girlfriend but I'd love to give you a blow-job or even just a cuddle."

"Wow, I thought you had a boyfriend." 

"I do."


"..ok, well that's really, kind of you, but, no thank you".


"Ok. My room's 553 if you change your mind. Honestly even if you just want a cuddle."


"Yeah, no, thank you."

The steward fled. Casual. 


The Lead, inebriated, wandered chuckling into his room. 



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