Someone was knocking on his door. What, in the name of Johnny Versace, was someone doing knocking on his door at nearly midnight? What kind of manners was that?

Annoyed, he rose from his bed, where he had been happily perusing the latest issue of Fashion Digest. He really hated to have his reading time interrupted; when his reading time was interrupted, his beauty sleep got delayed, and if he didn't get the proper amount of beauty sleep, his colleagues were going to be working with one very cranky stylist.

He rose from his bed, where he had been lying naked. He always slept in the nude, allowing his skin to breathe and attain its full glow. He slung a short leopard print robe over his shoulders, tying it closed to make himself decent. The robe was very short, barely covering him to mid-thigh. He wouldn't wear anything longer; he had beautiful thighs, and he really hated to hide them under excessive fabric.

Strutting over the door, he yanked it open, glowering at the young man standing outside it. "Can I help you?" he demanded, making sure to let his voice convey his annoyance at being disturbed.

The man outside the door, who had dared interrupt his rest, was Maven; Maven, whose eyebrows could easily qualify as a fashion disaster zone. The stylist goggled at him, not able to believe that Maven would actually be bold enough to knock upon his door, when his eyebrows were still so ghastly.

"Hey Rico." Maven, shockingly, gave him a broad smile, and, even more shockingly, walked right into the room. The stylist huffed, his eyes bugging. "Nice room," Maven commented. He held up a key, waving it around in the air. "The key you gave me didn't work."

"What!" Rico cried, outraged. "What are you talking about?"

"The key. You gave it to me after our match - took it right out of your pants." Maven grinned, wiggling those monstrous eyebrows. "You invited me to your room; well, I'm accepting."

"That was a joke!" Rico couldn't believe the nerve of this little fashion-less nuisance. "That's why the key didn't work! I certainly wasn't serious."

Maven laughed. "You're such a funny guy, Rico." Still grinning, he flopped down on Rico's bed, his impact wrinkling the perfectly straight bedcovers. Rico gasped, but Maven didn't seem to notice the stylist's outrage. "So." Maven raised one of his thick, bushy eyebrows, patting the mattress beside him. "Care to join me? I mean, you didn't ask me here to talk, right?"

"I didn't ask you here period!" Rico sputtered. "Get out!"

"Why?" Maven was pouting - he had rudely interrupted Rico's pre-beauty-sleep time, and now he had the nerve to pout. He was just as monstrous as his eyebrows!

"Because I - " Rico stopped, shocked, as Maven pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Undressing. Oh, and I am spending the night, so don't even think about kicking me out afterwards," Maven stated, undoing his belt and the button on his jeans. "I'll go for a one-night stand, but I'm not gonna be treated like trash."

"What - what are you talking about?" Rico stared, wide-eyed, as the young man shimmied out of his pants and sent them flying into a crumpled heap on the floor. However, despite his shock, he couldn't help looking approvingly at the fetching black thong which barely covered Maven's lower region.

"You coming?" Maven kicked the covers off the bed, laying back and batting his eyes at Rico. "Oh! Shoot." Almost as soon as he had laid back, he was up again, off the bed and fumbling with his pants. "Sorry," he muttered, digging in his pocket and pulling out a small, foil wrapped package. He scurried back onto the bed, arranging himself into a sexy pose. "I don't have anything, and I don't think you do or anything, but I'm always safe," he explained as he tore the package open. He looked up at Rico, who was just staring at him, still not able to believe what was happening. "You coming?" He chuckled. "To bed, I mean. The other way'll come later."

"But - I - " Rico paused, wondering why he was objecting. Yes, Maven did have horrid eyebrows, and yes, he hadn't really been invited, but - he was there, in Rico's bed, ready and willing to have casual sex as soon as Rico hit the sheets. Rico's choices were to kick him out and sleep, like he did every night, or to have sex with a very willing young man with a fantastic body. A smile curved the stylist's lips. Was there really any choice to be made?



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