Rootin' Down The Highway - 2. Sydney Kingsford-Smith Airport

I couldn’t figure out why he was still single. Brett Harrison had to be one of the most intelligent, most caring, and most beautiful men I knew. Damn, he was right down gorgeous. The long, curly blonde hair, blue eyes, hairy chest, and shorter stature made me just wanna hug the bloody heck out of him. Yet he always seemed to end up dating losers. His last boyfriend was such a damn butter, I was ready to say something about it, but fortunately they broke up. Maybe this trip will be good for him and help him find somebody to love.

“Mate, maybe you should go buy some tampons?”

We were sitting in the Qantas Lounge at the airport waiting for our flight to the United States. Dave was listening to music on his phone, Wayne and Marcus were playing cards, and I’d been reading on my tablet. Brett took a seat next to me, having just returned from a visit to the loo.

“What are ya talking about, Buck?”

“What were you doing on your phone before you got up and went on your walkabout around the terminal?” I had a pretty good idea of what he’d been doing; I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Hell, we were both single, why should I worry about what he does with other blokes?

“Nothing, just checking Facebook and stuff.”

“I heard there’s a lot of action on Grindr here at the airport; is that what you refer to as stuff?”

“Maybe…” Brett had a big grin on his face. Damn he was handsome when he smiled. “I was chatting up a couple of guys, ya know? Traveling Americans; I went to have a cup of tea with them. What’s that got to do with your comment about tampons?”

“Oh, you went for tea! Did you meet them in a tea room? Isn’t that what Americans call a beat? You got a bloody big wet spot on the back of your dacks. Did those guys spill something on your seat? Or is the wet spot there ‘cause your ass is leaking?”

“Shut the bloody hell up, Buck. Fucking condom broke with the second guy.”