Hitchiking was always discussed as “the one thing you don’t ever do” when Hugh was growing up, and yet here he was in the passenger seat of a sweet Mercedes convertible, having scored a lift all the way back to London. The guy who had picked him up was apparently called Roger, an older guy but a good looking one, and thankfully he didn’t seem to be cruising. Of course his apparent disinterest made him seem all the more attractive, but Hugh had already decided to leave that well alone. Coming on to this guy was only a potential risk vis à vis the lift, and he needed to get back to Shepherds Bush even more than he needed a blowjob, even if it was a close call.

He fumbled around in his pockets for cigarettes, eventually finding them in the very last one that he checked, naturally. He looked over at Roger, trying to catch his eye, and then motioned with the pack;

“You mind if I smoke, man?”

Roger laughed;

“Sure, go right ahead. In fact, can I get one of those?”

Hugh lit two smokes and passed one across to his driver.