Poland was bored. Sitting on the sofa, fiddling with the remote control, he watched his best friend, who was rudely ignoring him. Well, actually he was on the phone to his boss, but it was still rude. You shouldn't ignore your guests. Not even those who had invited themselves. Poland idly picked up a newspaper that had been lying around and flicked though it, hoping to find something at least mildly interesting to distract himself with, but he quickly realised that there weren't any glossy pictures. Disappointed, he put it down. Why did Liet have to be so serious about things?

Like now, for example. Perched on the arm of the sofa, he was speaking earnestly into the phone, his eyes thoughtful and a slight frown on his face. He hadn't even moved for half an hour, Poland noted with amazement. When Poland had arrived at Liet's house an hour previously, greeting his friend with an enthusiastic "Lieeeeeeet!" and a hug, all he had received in return was a small smile and instructions to "stay if you like, but I need to work." It had never even crossed Poland's mind that work could take this long or be this boring.

He tugged on his friend's sleeve. "Lieeeeeeet," he whined, "I'm bored."

Liet hardly reacted, pausing his conversation only to give a faint shake of his head and mouth "Not now!" at his friend. Then he returned to his impassive position, listening attentively to whatever was being said and occasionally making small "mmh" noises to show that he had understood.

Poland wriggled in his seat, unable to keep still. Then he suddenly got up. He would go to the kitchen and raid Liet's fridge, he decided, and if his friend was still being boring when he came back, he would do something about it.

The fridge proved to be only slightly more exciting than the newspaper, containing mostly what Poland thought was very dull food indeed. The only interesting things were a bottle of chocolate-flavoured milk, a half-empty tub of cheese cubes and a basket of strawberries of which there were only three left. It didn't take Poland long to finish them off, and he soon wandered back into the sitting room, where much to his annoyance Liet was still on the phone.

Seeing his friend sitting there with his back to him gave Poland an idea. If Liet thought he could ignore him like this, he was going to prove him wrong. One way or another, he was going to get his attention.

What would he try first? Poland thought quickly. Remembering that he had left his shopping bags in the hallway, he went to find them. Then, tipping the brightly coloured contents onto the floor, he rummaged through the pile until he had found what he was looking for. Holding it, he disappeared into the bathroom, reappearing barely thirty seconds later wearing a red plaid mini skirt. Or rather, very-mini-indeed skirt, he thought slightly smugly. Giving the skirt an experimental twirl, he raced back to the sitting room, eager to try out his idea.

Liet, oblivious to his friend's return, was still sitting in the same position, and Poland walked directly into his field of vision. He saw Liet's eyes widen ever so slightly as he took in the shortness of the skirt, but that was all. Poland sighed. Liet didn't really seem to appreciate his fabulousness. Not yet, anyhow. He pirouetted his way across the room, giving him a rather good view of his underwear, which was incidentally a very pale pink. His friend's eyes were following him this time, he noted with satisfaction. But he still wasn't giving him his full attention.

Poland did one last pirouette before returning to his seat on the sofa. Looking at his friend, he couldn't help but admire his slim shape. Liet could wear anything, Poland mused, and still look good in it. He really should convince him to go shopping together sometime.

Growing tired of merely looking at him, Poland shifted closer to Liet, who still had his back turned and seemed to be having a serious discussion about economics or something equally tedious. Tentatively, he reached out a hand and placed it on Liet's shoulder. When he didn't react, he put his other hand on the other shoulder, more confidently this time. He gently began rubbing little circles on his shoulders with his thumbs, and felt Liet relaxing a little under his hands. He was very tense, Poland noticed, so he continued to knead his shoulder muscles, and his friend leant into the massage, enjoying it.

It wasn't having quite the desired effect, though, as Liet was still on the phone, so Poland gradually slipped one hand lower, tracing the curve of other man's waist. He grinned. He could practically feel the quizzical expression on the other's face, though he couldn't see it. As he slid his hand underneath his shirt and brushed his warm skin, he felt Liet tense under his touch. When he showed no inclination to remove the hand, but rather continued to tease the skin there, he could see a faint flush appearing on his friend's neck. Liet did not move away, but Poland wrapped his free arm around his waist to keep him there, just in case. He felt Liet slowly let the tension seep out of his body, knowing that there was not much he could do about his situation without embarrassing himself in front of his boss.

Poland had hoped that it would have been enough to distract his friend, but apparently it wasn't. While this was a little irritating, Poland couldn't honestly say that he minded. Distracting Liet was proving to be even more fun than he had imagined.

He moved in even closer behind Liet, wrapping himself around his friend. After a quick debate with himself about what to do next, he eyed his still flushed neck for a moment before giving it a quick lick. This time, Liet's voice hitched, but he quickly recovered his composure. Pleased, Poland continued to attack Liet's neck with licks, kisses and the odd sharp nip while he slowly unbuttoned his shirt with one hand. By this time, Liet's voice was a little breathy, but not noticeably so. He was astonishingly good at keeping calm, Poland thought. Too much so. Running his fingers over Liet's chest, Poland found one of his nipples and gave it a little twist, relishing the sharp gasp that his friend could not hold back. He was almost certain that Liet couldn't resist much longer. Moving one hand to his thigh, Poland started drawing little circles there, teasing him through the fabric. Then he moved it slowly toward the rather conspicuous bulge in Liet's jeans. Cupping it in his hand, he earned an audible moan. Liet was about to crack, he knew it. Any second now, he would hang up. Poland withdrew his hand for a moment, only to unzip the other's jeans, and –

"I – ah – I have to go, sir. I'm terribly sorry. Something's come up."

Liet's voice sounded shaky and irregular. Poland grinned. At last, Liet was going to pay him some attention.

"What was all that about?" Liet's tone was calm enough, but there was something in his eyes that made Poland's grin falter.

"I was bored, Liet," he pouted, resorting to what he liked to think of as his natural charm. He made as if to touch his friend's shoulder, but Liet's arm shot out and before he could move, his wrist was held in a steel grip. Liet was much stronger than he looked, Poland thought weakly.

"You wanted to get my attention, huh?" Liet's eyes gleamed darkly. "Well now you have it."

Poland struggled feebly against his strong grip and only succeeded in making Liet grab his other wrist, too. He felt his stomach flutter, and briefly wondered what he had gotten himself into. He found himself unable to resist as he was pushed down onto the sofa, with Liet holding him down firmly. He shut his eyes, trying to compose himself.

"You've had your fun, Po. Now, it's my turn."

He opened his eyes again and looked straight into Liet's eyes. They were dark as before, though there was a little glint of humour there too. He swallowed. He wasn't sure what was stronger: the trepidation he felt or the thrill that coursed through him when he realised that the look in Liet's eyes was one of unadulterated lust.