St-Patrick's Day Snippet #3

Jarheads this time!

Their local bar always had green beer on St. Paddy's day.

Fucking green beer.

Rock could never decide if it was funny or gross. It tasted the same, but it sure as shit looked wrong. Kind of like what it would be like if Rig shaved his head.

Rig didn't seem to give a shit, though, the man drinking deep, laughing with the bartender.

There was going to be trivia later, apparently, and a prize for the best leprechaun contest. Speaking of leprechauns... They'd talked the kid into taking part this year and Rock scanned the crowd, couldn't find Dick anywhere.

He slid his hand over Rig's thigh, getting his rabbit's attention. "Where's the kid?"

"Getting his hair sprayed green by Jack and Greg."

"Seriously?" They'd promised the kid a blow job from Rig while he fucked Dick good and hard, but that was really going all out.

"The prize is four days in Carmel. He wants it."

"Shit, I thought it was a few rounds or something." Damn, they could have fun in Carmel.

"Someone has a place and they donated it for a long weekend." Rig winked. "If he doesn't win, we know what he wants bad enough to spray-paint his hair and wear pantyhose."

"He's wearing pantyhose? Oh, fuck, this I have to see." God, when Dick did something, he really jumped in with both feet. The kid always had.

"You know it." Rig chuckled, leaned against him. "Our little green man."

Rock snorted. "I think he might object to being called little."

"Tiny."

His laughter was cut off by his mouth dropping open as Dick came in, green hair, green beard, skin tight green hose, tight t-shirt with a little green jacket lined with white fluffy stuff. The kid looked... fucking edible.

"Okay, that's adorable." Rig was hooting.

"If he doesn't win first prize, this thing is fixed."

Dick caught site of them and rolled his eyes, coming to where he and Rig were. "All right, get it all out of your system now."

"Oh, pretty. You are the hottest leprechaun ever."

Dick beamed at Rig, and Rock nodded. "What he said. How long before we can go home?"

Dick gave him a surprised look. "You not feeling well?"

"Nope. I've got a swelling." He waggled his eyebrows.

Rig rolled his eyes. "Let Dick win his prize and then we'll go. Maybe."

He pouted, but Dick and Rig were ignoring him.

Then Dick turned, giving him an amazing view of that great ass in those tights. He could live with the view.

Now he just had to figure out how to convince Rig to join Dick in the contest next year.