The Night Shift
Louisa Keller
Contents
The Night Shift
The Night Shift
Colton is well aware that he should have sorted out his costume weeks ago. His friends have all pulled together impressive ensembles that are sure to get them noticed by everyone at the exclusive Halloween Gala they’ve managed to score invites to, and he doesn’t want to be the only one wearing a half-assed costume. But between grading countless stacks of papers for the Intro to Lit class he’s TAing this semester, and the obscene amount of reading he’s been assigned in his Hegel course over the past month, Halloween has all but slipped his mind. Until, that is, Trent comes crashing into Colton’s dorm room decked out in an obscenely tight pair of scaly green briefs, holding a large golden trident, and brandishing—
“Pasties? Really Trent?” Colton asks, quirking an eyebrow.
“Dude, the theme is mermaids and pirates,” says Trent.
Upon closer inspection, the pasties are indeed in the shape of shells. They’re a pale shade of lavender that will look spectacular against Trent’s tanned skin, and Colton forcefully pushes the thought out of his mind before it can escalate any further. Trent probably wouldn’t love the idea of his best friend fantasizing about him.
“I didn’t know there was a theme,” says Colton.
“Um, yeah you did,” says Trent. “I told you like six times. Can you help me get these on straight? I’ve pre-gamed a smidge too much to be trusted with a task this delicate.”
Colton rolls his eyes. “We’re not even leaving for like…” Colton glances at the clock on his phone, “two hours. At least.”
Trent shrugs. “Where’s your costume, man?”
“Right, about that,” mumbles Colton.
“Don’t tell me you forgot to get a costume,” says Trent, looking scandalized.
“I didn’t forget, per se.” Colton looks down at the faded jeans and ratty t-shirt he’s wearing. “I was planning to get it this afternoon but I got caught up with homework and…I’m going to go pick it up now.”
Trent pouts. “I can’t believe you left it to the absolute last minute. It’s like you don’t even care about Halloween.”
Colton would love to point out that he doesn’t particularly care about Halloween, but he knows exactly how well that will go over. So he sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and grabs his phone. He searches for “costume shops near me” and scrolls through the various listings that appear on the screen. There’s a place with a 5 star rating just a mile and a half away, so Colton pulls it up in his navigation app and waves goodbye to Trent.
“Don’t be late!” Trent admonishes as the door swings shut behind Colton.
The short drive takes Colton through the meandering industrial district near campus before spitting him out on the edge of a trendy downtown area that is mostly inhabited by twenty-something hipsters. Quaint boutiques and minimalist cafes line the narrow streets, and trees spit colorful leaves upon anyone who walks beneath them. Despite the fact that he spends most of his time on campus, nose to the grindstone, Colton will always associate this cozy autumn scenery with his college years. He smiles to himself as he finds a parking spot, and then ducks into a coffee shop to grab a frothy hot cocoa before seeking out the costume store.
“Thanks,” he says as he accepts the to-go cup from the barista. “Randy’s Costume and Novelty Shop is nearby, yeah?”
She gives him an odd look before answering. “Yeah, it’s just a block down and around the corner.”
“Right, thanks,” says Colton. He turns to go, but out of the corner of his eye he see the barista whispering something to one of her coworkers. They’re both giggling.
Shrugging, he heads outside and strolls down the block. He’s never been down this particular side street, and he appreciates the opportunity to see a new part of town. He almost walks right past the shop he’s looking for; its sign is small and faded, the windows are completely blacked out, and the door isn’t constantly swinging open like the stores nearby. Colton turns around and makes his way through the door. A bell tinkles merrily as he enters, but as far as Colton can see, he’s alone in the shop.
At first glance, it seems like a run-of-the-mill costume store. There are all manner of dress up items hanging from racks, vaguely organized by theme. He runs his hand along a feather boa, studies a brightly embroidered sombrero, and marvels at the sheer volume of tights.
Why on earth would someone need fishnets in every color of the rainbow? he wonders. Moving further into the shop, he begins searching in earnest for something pirate- or mermaid-themed. He sifts through costumes that promise to turn him into a sexy maid, sexy nurse, sexy prison warden. He’s so focused on trying to fathom why anyone would want to dress up as a sexy plunger that he barely notices that he’s reached the end of the costume racks. It isn’t until he looks up and finds himself face-to-face with a frankly terrifying display of dildos that he realizes his mistake.
“What the fuck?” Colton says loudly, before he can stop himself.
He hears footsteps and turns to find a breathtakingly attractive man rushing toward him. “Are you alright?” the guy asks, sounding genuinely concerned.
And goddamn, he’s beautiful. Between his dark, artfully-coiffed hair, two-day stubble, and muscular biceps, he has Colton going weak at the knees. Not to mention the fact that he’s got the most beautiful hazel eyes. He cocks his head to the side, clearly waiting for an answer.
“I’m…fine?” Colton tries.
The guy looks unconvinced. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I was, um…I didn’t realize I was in a…”
“Sex shop,” the guy supplies.
“Right,” says Colton. Their eyes lock and Colton can feel a flush creeping, high and bright, across his cheeks.
“You have a name?” Colton isn’t sure what he was expecting, but this isn’t it.
“I’m Colton.” And then—dear lord, the guy is reaching out to shake his hand.
“Nice to meet you Colton, I’m Farrington.”
The handshake is firm and concise. It makes Colton wonder how Farrington’s hands would feel squeezing other parts of his body. “Do you, uh, come here often?” Colton asks and immediately cringes.
Farrington bursts out laughing. “You could say that,” he says, “I’m the night shift manager.”
If possible, Colton’s face goes an even darker shade of red. He inwardly curses his pale complexion and tries to think of something to say to salvage the situation. “Manager, huh?” is what comes out of his mouth. Colton wants to die.
Fortunately, Farrington looks amused, a small smirk settling over his features. “I actually got promoted recently,” he says.
“Congratulations,” Colton tells him.
“My boss was impressed by my dedication to familiarizing myself with the merchandise,” says Farrington.
Colton gapes at him. “Excuse me?”
“For instance, I’m guessing you came in looking for a Halloween costume,” Farrington says breezily, heading back toward the racks of costumes and accessories. “I ordered most of the stuff that’s out here, I can help you find exactly what you’re looking for.”
“Right,” mumbles Colton. He’s not entirely sure whether or not Farrington is fucking with him. “I’m looking for…um, there’s a theme. Pirates and mermaids.”
Farrington’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’re going to the Oldtown Halloween Gala, aren’t you?” When Colton nods, Farrington adds, “I’m impressed. How did you manage to get an invite?”
Colton sighs. “My best friend is sleeping with the guy who caters the event. He got a bunch of us tickets.”
Farrington nods, and then looks Colton up and down brazenly. “Are yo
u going for classy or slutty?”
By this point in the conversation, Colton really shouldn’t be surprised by anything that comes out of Farrington’s mouth. But still, that’s not what he was expecting. “Are those the only two choices?”
“Well,” says Farrington, “I’m not saying that everyone there will play by these rules. But here’s the thing about Halloween: people who are into the whole dress up thing are generally either going to put together something really classy, or they’re going to show a lot of skin. The exceptionally talented can pull off both at the same time.”
Colton considers this. “I…don’t think I fall into the category of exceptionally talented.”
“Hmm,” says Farrington. “Time will tell. Personally I think over-the-top sexy is the way to go for this kind of event. You’re going to be drinking and dancing and probably hooking up with a stranger in the bathroom by the end of the night, so why not let loose with the costume too?”
“Do you have something specific in mind?” Colton asks.
Farrington pulls something off of a hanger with a flourish. At first glance it’s a scrap of fabric. When he gets closer, however, Colton finds himself staring at a tiny pair of briefs bearing vertical black and red stripes. He lets out a startled bark of laughter.
“You can’t be serious.”
Farrington quirks one eyebrow and regards Colton silently until Colton relents and takes the briefs.
“Okay, but like, this isn’t a costume. It’s underwear.”
“Well obviously that’s not the whole thing,” says Farrington. “You get to wear this fabulous, billowy shirt too.” He holds out a shirt that looks decidedly pirate-esque, and waits for Colton to take it before grabbing a leather vest and handing that to him as well. “Don’t button the shirt,” he tells Colton.
“Right, well, uh, thanks,” says Colton. “How much does it—”
“Wait wait wait,” Farrington interrupts him. “You’re not going to buy it without trying it on.”
It’s not a question.
Colton looks around. “Is there a changing room somewhere?” he asks.
“Right this way, my good Sir.” Farrington leads him down a narrow aisle—Colton makes a point of looking away from the harnesses, handcuffs, and flavored lubes as they pass—and pulls back a curtain to reveal a small room with a floor-to-ceiling mirror and a padded bench. “Try it on, let me know if you need a different size,” says Farrington.
And then Colton is alone, standing in the changing room of a sex shop, holding a sexy pirate costume.
It takes a couple of minutes for him to work up the nerve to try it on. The briefs are tight, but in a way that shows off his ass and doesn’t pinch anywhere. The shirt is surprisingly comfortable, and by leaving it open as Farrington has instructed, Colton is pleased to notice that he can see the beginning of a six-pack forming. He’s been working out in the odd moments when he’s not swamped with work, but he hasn’t taken the time to really look at himself lately. It’s nice to see that the early morning jogs and late night pushups are paying off.
“You doing okay in there?” comes a voice from behind the curtain, and Colton jumps, having momentarily forgotten that he’s not alone.
“I’m fine,” he calls. “I think it fits alright.”
Farrington makes a noise that might be a stifled laugh and then says, “can I come make sure? I wouldn’t want you to buy the wrong size.”
Good God, thinks Colton. This guy is coming onto me.
The thought is flattering, and Colton is definitely attracted to Farrington too. They’re all alone, far from the prying eyes of Colton’s friends. What does he have to lose?
“Come on in,” says Colton.
The curtain flutters and then Farrington is pushing it aside, stepping into the changing room, and smiling at Colton. His eyes snap to the briefs, and then wander up to Colton’s abs. Farrington’s gaze feels like a spotlight, burning Colton’s skin with its intensity.
“So…what do you think?” Colton asks.
“I think,” says Farrington, “that it suits you. Turn around.”
At Farrington’s urging, Colton spins and surveys himself in the mirror once more. Farrington steps up behind him, their bodies pressing together. Colton’s back is against Farrington’s chest, and when Colton wriggles experimentally, he finds that his ass is pressed snugly against a rapidly hardening cock.
“Is this okay?” Farrington murmurs in Colton’s ear, his hands sliding down Colton’s sides and pausing on his hips.
“Oh God,” Colton nearly moans. “Yeah, yeah, this is good.”
“I’m glad,” says Farrington. He runs his thumbs over Colton’s hipbones before sliding them just under the waistband of the briefs. “You’re really sexy, you know that?”
Colton swallows hard. “You think so?”
“Jesus, yeah. I could stare at you in this costume all day.” Farrington withdraws his thumbs from the briefs and moves his hands upwards, mapping the ridges and valleys of Colton’s stomach and chest before settling over his pecs. He thumbs at Colton’s nipples and lets out a gratified little laugh when they instantly harden. “You’re so responsive.”
“You like that?” Colton asks. He’s not trying to be coy, although it occurs to him that it probably wouldn’t offend Farrington even if he was. For most of Colton’s college career he’s been so focused on what he’s paying to be there for—attending classes, writing papers, picking his professors’ minds during office hours—that his sex life has been virtually nonexistent. The hookups he’s had, few and far between, have almost all taken place in the dark. He’s had sex at a frat party, in his own dorm room after a night out at a club, and in a classmate’s basement bedroom. But he hasn’t ever done anything quite like this, pressing up against another man in the light and allowing someone to admire his body. It’s thrilling.
“It’s incredibly hot, Colton.” And that’s new too, hearing his name. It’s strangely intimate, given that the man behind him is a complete stranger.
Colton screws up his courage and turns in Farrington’s arms. He threads his own fingers through Farrington’s hair and tugs slightly, maneuvering Farrington even closer to him. In response, Farrington lets out a little moan and tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck. Colton leans in and places a gentle kiss against the spot where Farrington’s pulse is pounding away.
“Fuck,” murmurs Farrington. Colton kisses his way up his neck, sucking lightly and grinning when that elicits another gratifying sound from Farrington.
When he reaches his ear, Colton takes a deep breath and whispers, “is that what you want to do to me?”
Farrington pulls back to look at Colton’s face, and his grin is practically feral. “If you’re offering.”
“I am,” Colton says, surprising himself. He wants this, he’s nearly delirious with arousal, but he’s never been particularly impulsive. It feels good, he realizes, to let loose.
“In that case,” says Farrington, “I’ll be right back.”
Colton nods and turns back to the mirror. He studies his reflection, pleased to see how debauched he already looks. Just the memory of the feeling of Farrington’s hands on his body has Colton’s pupils blown wide. He licks his lips and runs a hand through his hair. Farrington comes bursting back into the changing room and throws a couple of things down on the bench. Colton doesn’t get a good look at what he’s brought because Farrington pulls him into an earth-shattering kiss. Their bodies draw together like magnets, hands exploring, teeth nipping at each other’s lips. Then Farrington reaches back and slides his hands into Colton’s briefs, squeezing his ass and letting out an appreciative noise.
“God, I want you. I want to be inside you.”
The words light Colton up, and he thrusts against Farrington. “Get on with it then.”
Farrington slides Colton’s briefs down, letting them settle just beneath his ass. Colton can’t spread his legs much, and he loves that Farrington is essentially confining him wit
h his own damn Halloween costume. One of Farrington’s long, dexterous fingers is sliding along Colton’s crack, and they both inhale sharply when it reaches his hole. Colton tilts his hips back a fraction of an inch, just enough to indicate that he likes the pad of Farrington’s finger resting against such an intimate part of his body. Farrington begins rubbing tiny circles around the rim, and Colton can feel his own body relaxing into the touch.
“That’s so good,” Colton whines.
“It’s about to get better,” Farrington tells him, and then he’s reaching down to the bench and coming back with a small bottle of lube. He slicks three fingers and runs them down Colton’s crack again. Then he slowly pushes his index finger in. “Still good?”
“Fuck, yes,” groans Colton. He’s always been absolutely shameless about his love of being penetrated. He shoves back against Farrington’s hand, whispering hoarsely, “give me more.”
“Already?” Farrington asks, soundly simultaneously gleeful and incredulous.
“Uh huh,” mumbles Colton.
Farrington withdraws his finger and then pushes in with two. The stretch is Colton’s favorite part of getting fucked; he loves the way it burns, the sense of desperation that takes over his body as his thoughts blur into a mantra of more more more…
“God, look at you,” Farrington murmurs, and then he wraps his free arm around Colton’s chest and maneuvers him fully upright so that they can both gaze at their reflection in the mirror. The angle makes Colton clinch hard around Farrington’s fingers.
“Do you have a condom?” Colton gasps. The fingers inside of him are skating repeatedly over his prostate and he can see thick precum dripping from his cock in the mirror.
Farrington makes an affirmative noise. “We’re in a sex shop, of course I have a condom.” He points to the bench. “Take your pick.”
Colton leans down to inspect the assortment of condoms that Farrington has brought in, and Farrington chooses that moment to slide a third finger in alongside the other two. Colton’s hoarse whimper harmonizes with Farrington’s delighted laughter as he see how easily Colton takes him.
The Night Shift Page 1