Legal Note From The Sarcasm Department
Do not read this story if:
You are not over 18 years old (or the legal age where you live). Reading this story will land you in jail (unless you're into that type of thing). You don't want to read about men touching other men in somewhat inappropriate places. You think that boys have cooties. You are prone to masturbatory spraining.
This story is completely fictional. It is not meant to represent or reproduce any person or situation. If this seems to mirror your life in any way, you're a lucky bastard. This story is about two guys heading to the same place from different directions, and the odd meanderings they take on the way.
Enjoy!
Deciding Not To Decide ==================
Again I found myself leaning on the counter with a sigh. It had been hours, and Terryn hadn't come back for his license. For what seemed like the millionth time I ran my fingers over the plastic in my apron pocket and looked toward the door. My rational mind knew that looking at the door wouldn't magically make it open, but I never was much for that whole "thinking" thing. Luckily, the hustle and bustle of the lunchtime rush was enough to temporarily take my mind off of Terryn just long enough to get something accomplished.
The rain started pouring down again toward the end of the rush, and people were dashing left and right in a vain attempt to get out of the downpour. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blond head of hair racing across the parking lot. I snapped my head around to get a better look so quickly that I almost spilled the cup of espresso that I was holding. Much to my dismay, what I saw was actually a blonde head running. My coworker Sarah came dashing into the store breathing heavily and looking flushed. Sarah smoked like a chimney, and I was pretty sure that her brief run from the car amounted to the most exercise that she had gotten in the past week.
"Why the long face, bro? You're not usually this unhappy to see me!"
Sarah giggled and poked my nose over the counter.
"Besides, if I'm here, that means that you get to go home... so git!"
I glanced around to make sure that Tony was safely in the back of the store before I motioned for Sarah to come around the counter. She snatched an apron from its hook and walked over to where I was standing.
"Remember that one really cute guy that I told you about a long time ago? The one with the Mustang?"
"Yeah, what about him?"
I fished in my apron and pulled out Terryn's license.
"Want to see what he looks like?"
She snatched the license out of my hand and gave a low whistle.
"Wait... you're telling me that you passed up a gu... someone THAT cute because you couldn't work up the balls to talk to him? I should beat you for that!"
Always one for talking with her hands, Sarah reached over and smacked my arm as we both reflexively looked to make sure Tony wasn't wandering by. While Tony normally played the part of the bumbling pothead to perfection, we were privy to a homophobic streak a mile wide. Sarah and I had been close since junior high, and the first time Tony had gone off on an anti-gay tirade the two of us had shared an unspoken communication:
Well, not gonna tell HIM!
Normally I'm all for the "I'm here, I'm queer" bit, but there are certain occasions where it just doesn't seem like it would be worth the hassle.
"Wait... he was here? And you let him get away? What the hell is wrong with you?"
Sarah's smiling face countered the concern in her whispered voice.
"What was I supposed to do? He freaked out and ran away before I had a chance to say anything!"
"Yet he just GAVE you his driver's license?"
I told Sarah about everything that had happened that morning. She laughed as I described the image of the contents of Terryn's wallet flying all over the place. She made an odd face when I told her about Tess bringing Angie by, but once I had finished the story she smacked my arm again.
"Sounds like he's got the hots for you Airy-boy!"
I cringed as she trotted out the most fearsome of weapons: her annoying nickname for me. I could never understand why people had such a hard time saying "Erik". It's not like it had all that many syllables, but every time people got to know me they did their damnedest to call me "Rick" or "E-dub" or something equally as stupid.
"Fine, Sarah Lee." She narrowed her eyes at me. Two could play at that game. "If you're so convinced that he likes me, why did he leave without saying a word?"
"Did you fall and bump your head or something? You're too gorgeous for your own good but you really are clueless some times. It sounds like you intimidated the crap out of him if you ask me."
"But... but... I didn't DO anything!"
Sarah sighed and started pushing me toward the door.
"Do the world a favor... take a look in the mirror, but fucking pay attention this time! Maybe then you'll figure out why he was nervous."
I knew that there was no reasoning with her.
"Besides, I'm pretty sure that you have a better chance with him than I do. In all that time he never once looked at me. I'll just keep my fantasy going and pretend like this day never happened."
I shucked my apron and clocked out.
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
I gave Sarah a confused look. She was still holding Terryn's I.D. in her hand.
"What if he comes back for it?"
"And what if you just take it to him?"
"Sarah, are you insane? I'm pretty sure that I'd be pissed if some random guy walked off with my I.D."
"C'mon... he lives around the corner. Just put it in an envelope and toss it in his mailbox, that way you'd know he got it. Toss a note in there and let him know what happened. Who knows? He might even come to give you a reward."
Sarah gave me an overdramatic wink.
"Girl, you're crazy. Just keep it behind the counter and give it to him if he comes back."
"FINE! Don't listen to my brilliant ideas. I'm just trying to help you, you know."
"I know hon, but I don't think that's the kind of help I need right now."
Sarah stuck out her tongue.
"You're still giving me a lift home tonight, right?"
"Yeah, I'll be here before you close. Wouldn't want to make you spend any more alone time with The Beast than absolutely necessary."
We both scrunched up our faces at the thought of Tony and Sarah alone in the shop. Sarah shuddered and shooed me out the door.
"Fine, you'd BETTER be back before then or I'll have to go to this Terryn guy's house myself and tell him about how you've been drooling over him."
I could feel the blood draining from my face. That was a low blow, even for her.
"You want to play it that way, eh? I'll just have to call up a certain bass player I know and tell her just how badly you wanted her to break up with her girlfriend so that you could have her. Kelly IS still technically your best friend, right?"
By this point, both of us were glaring at each other. Normally I was the first one to back down in these situations, but something about her comment had pissed me off. Sarah was the first to break eye contact.
"You're right... that was a bit harsh. I just want to see you happy, and I hate to see you throw opportunities like this away."
The concern in her face was plain. Just like always, we could fight like cats and dogs and be best friends again the next minute.
"I know Sar-Bear... I know. Don't worry; I wouldn't desert you like that. I'll see you later hon."
"Have fun sitting by your self at home, Lucky Bear. I'll be sure to keep an eye out for your mystery man."
I flipped her the bird as I walked out the door.
Down The Drain ============
I hadn't been in my office for more than two hours before Sunny burst through my door.
"Alright, what gives?"
"What do you mean?"
"First off, you slink in and don't even say hi. Second, you've just set a record for the longest time you've ever gone without bugging me about something stupid. I know we haven't worked together long, but I KNOW you, TJ, and something's not right."
While Sunny was technically my employee, she usually spent most of the day bossing me around. One might figure that a name like Sunny would lead to a cheerful disposition, but in her case it just gave her free reign to be a raving bitch. No wonder we hit it off as soon as I hired her.
"What's with the uncharacteristic concern? I've never once seen you open your mouth without something critical to say about someone."
"Oh no, you're not weaseling out of this one, bub. You are GOING to tell me what the hell is bugging you and you are going to do it RIGHT NOW!"
There's something vaguely frightening about a 5'2" woman glowering at you from the other side of a desk. Luckily for me, my pissy mood outweighed her scare tactics.
"Look, I hired you as my personal assistant with an emphasis on ASSISTANT, not personal. Why don't you just stay the fuck out of my business?"
Sunny made a face and mockingly imitated my angry tone.
"You know that that's NOT going to happen, so why don't you tell me just what the fuck your business IS before I have to pry it out of you? You look like someone killed your puppy."
"Look, I really don't want to talk about it, ok?"
I shuffled papers around aimlessly on my desk and silently prayed that Sunny would just leave. I grabbed my coffee mug and took a swig.
"Who's 'E.K.'?"
Having coffee spray out of my mouth probably would have been less embarrassing than nearly choking on it. As it was, I'm sure my face turned several shades of red as I launched into a coughing fit. Sunny just smiled and pointed at my desk blotter.
"You really shouldn't make it so easy for me. It's no fun that way."
All around the outside of the calendar I had doodled Erik's initials in various colored pens. A nervous habit that was usually benign suddenly turned incriminating. If my coughing fit hadn't brought all of the blood to my face, hearing her mention Erik had definitely done it.
"I told you, I don't want to talk about it."
"Don't make me bust out the plaid jacket and magnifying glass to go Sherlock Holmes on your ass."
"Isn't that your people's uniform anyway? Oh, wait... I forgot. That's plaid flannel and a motorcycle helmet."
That comment brought the expected slap on the shoulder, somewhat harder than I had expected.
"I left my helmet jammed up your ass, which is the way you like it if I remember correctly!"
I took off my glasses and rubbed the bridge of my nose. Sunny put her hand on my shoulder.
"Look TJ, you're a wreck right now. You're no good to me like this, and if I can't even get a respectable amount of work out of you it means that there's no point in you being here. You don't have anything scheduled for the rest of the day. Why don't you go home, put on some Cher and have a bubble bath or whatever it is that you fairies do to relax and get your head straight. And I expect a full report on my desk first thing tomorrow morning. And if he's as hot as I'm guessing, I want pictures too!"
"Yes, sir! I mean... ma'am. You ARE a ma'am, right? 'Cause I'm pretty sure that I can see your balls under that skirt."
"Don't be mad because you can't have them. You're ugly when you're jealous."
"The only one here that's jealous is you! You wish you had a pair like mine!"
I grabbed my balls suggestively and leered at Sunny.
"Honey, if I had a pair like yours, I'd kill myself."
Sunny laughed as she walked to the door.
"Now there's the TJ I'm used to. Hope you feel better tomorrow."
She peeked her head back into the door.
"Oh, and I'm giving myself a raise for this... hope you don't mind."
"That's OK, I'm docking your pay for insubordination anyway, so it all evens out."
"Fucker!"
"Bitch!"
"Damned right!"
I grabbed my coat and briefcase and headed out the door.
If the ride home had been any longer, my wandering mind probably would have led to an accident involving a tree or other immobile object. I had fully convinced myself that I was clinically insane. Everywhere I went, Erik's face haunted me. He was in the elevator, he was in the lobby... everywhere I went I saw him. I stopped to grab a smoke on my way out of the building and I couldn't even finish it. Halfway through the cigarette I glanced across the basketball courts and swore I saw him talking to a guy on the court. I couldn't get him off my mind, and it was driving me insane. I'm sure I broke the land speed record on my way home, but somehow managed to maneuver my car into my parking spot safe and sound and meander my way to the front door.
Once I reached the door, I was immediately attacked by Stealth Kitty. In the year that he had haunted my apartment, I never once found out whose cat he really was. He'd hang out by my door for days on end and then suddenly disappear. I fed him from time to time if I had anything handy, but all attempts to "adopt" him had failed. One night I brought him inside to keep him out of some stormy weather, but that didn't last long. He lorded around my house as if he owned the place while it was raining, clawing up furniture and pooping in inopportune spots. Once the rain had cleared, he started slinking around the house like a super spy on the prowl. Much like the other men in my life, he bolted as soon as he saw a clear path to an open door.
Christ, if I couldn't even keep hold of one cat, how was I supposed to lead a fulfilling life as a bitter old maid surrounded by hundreds of them?
Normally, my arrival acted as a prompt for him to leave as fast as his little feline legs would take him. For some reason he stuck around, meowed loudly and butted his head up against my legs. I reached down and absentmindedly scratched the stupid cat's head. Familiarity may breed contempt, but this cat had grudgingly fostered a bizarre affection by being around constantly while acting like he had much better places to be.
I let myself in the apartment and tossed my keys on the small table by the door. As usual, there wasn't any mail waiting for me on the floor and there were no messages waiting on the answering machine. I glanced briefly in the fridge and shook my head. It was definitely time to go grocery shopping.
Rather than do something that productive, however, I flopped out on the couch and turned on the TV. I flicked through the backlog of shows that my Tivo had recorded for me and deleted the garbage that I wasn't interested in. The only thing of interest was an episode of Monarch of the Glen that I hadn't yet watched, so I hit play. I kicked off my shoes and settled in to listen to sexy Scottish men talk in sexy Scottish accents.
Apparently, they weren't sexy enough. In what seemed like a single moment, I went from watching TV to dreaming one of my most common dreams. Over the past few years I had seen the same dream nearly every time I went to sleep, and I had experienced it so many times that it was less like a dream and more like a recollection.
In my dream I hung suspended in midair without a stitch of clothing on. All around me was a sea of white as far as I could see, completely formless in shape. The only discernable colors in the room distinguished the masses of chains that held me aloft. Oddly enough, the chains weren't actually touching my body but held me prisoner all the same. As always, the only sound that I could make out was the barely audible but sinister laughing that continued endlessly. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak... all I could do was listen to the laughing and sob silently.
Something was different this time. As I hung there sobbing, I caught a glimpse of a shape moving through the white fog. I blinked my eyes in an attempt to clear the tears from them and strained to make out the details of the oncoming shape. Slowly the shape resolved itself into the shadow of a hooded man walking toward me. A cold knife of despair worked its way into my heart as he came nearer and I struggled to cry out to him to stay away. He kept his head down as he walked, and for a moment the omnipresent laughter faltered. The moment the laughter faded, a second shape appeared from the fog and moved quickly toward the stranger. The stranger raised his head and pulled off the hood, briefly flashing a head of bright red hair. The moment his grey eyes met mine, my voice broke from its imprisonment and screamed...
... and I bolted upright on the couch.
What the FUCK had Erik been doing in my dream?
I grabbed my head as a fierce headache thundered through my skull. I staggered to the kitchen and downed two aspirin with a glass of water. Though the dream always left me emotionally drained it had never affected me physically before. My heart was racing and my clothes were soaked with sweat. I walked down the hallway to my bedroom and started the shower. After ditching the sweaty clothing that I had on I stepped under the nearly scalding spray and stood there motionless. Eventually, the heat of the water started to ease my headache and I ran my hands through my hair. When my fingers hit the thin leather thong that held my hair in its ponytail I quickly worked to untie it. My treasured mane of ridiculously long hair cascaded over my shoulders and back, and I tossed the thong over the shower door.
I'd never consider myself a vain individual, but I always got a kick out of the thought that I had hair that most women would kill for. I'd started growing it out at the age of 10 and hadn't trimmed more than the odd split end since. Though it was a pain in the ass to take care of, I'd never imagine chopping off the hair that hung more than halfway down my back. I'd been blessed with perfectly straight hair that always looked like I'd spent hours brushing and blow drying it after I tossed it into a ponytail. At first I worried that having such long hair would make me look effeminate, but the squared shape of my face seemed to balance well with my hair.
Once I had spent ample time fussing with my hair, I ran my hand over my jaw line. I was in dire need of a shave, but the thought of expending that much energy just didn't seem worth it. Instead I gathered my hair up behind my head, grabbed the body wash and squeezed a small dollop in my palm. Never one for a loofah, I rubbed my hands briskly to build up lather and went to work. Intending to get out of the shower quickly, I briskly rubbed soap all over my skin and washed the lather off.
What was that adage about rubbing the genie's lamp, again?
As expected, the slightest bit of contact left my cock proudly displaying itself for the world to see. Still slightly disturbed from my dream nudity, I closed my eyes and tried to think of un-sexy thoughts.
Baseball should do the trick. Men + tight pants = hot asses. Damnit.
Naked girls should work then. There's absolutely nothing sexy about naked women. Unless, of course, they're doing naughty things to a very hot naked man and then have the nerve to disappear.
Left with thoughts of a hot naked man, I really had no choice. I squirted a little more body wash in my palm, lathered up, and grabbed my now aching cock. As I stroked myself the naked man stood up with his head bowed and crossed his arms over his chest like a scared little child. All I could focus on was the way the muscles in his gently furred arms worked as he moved to hug himself and the way his chest heaved. I couldn't make out anything below his waist for some reason, but it didn't seem to be important. My whole world was focused on the sensations in my cock and the overwhelmingly adorable man before me. I braced myself against the shower wall and stroked furiously. As I neared orgasm, he slowly raised his head and looked straight at me. Those disturbing grey eyes met mine yet again and he slowly held his right hand out to me, palm side up. He looked straight into my soul and spoke just one word, which was enough to send me careening over the edge of my orgasm.
"Please..."
I finally became cognizant of the sound of my own sobbing. The force of my orgasm had caused me to slide down the wall to my knees. As I brushed the tears out of my face, my eyes lit on the shower drain. I began to sob again as I watched as my tears and cum mix together with the shower water and lazily swirl down the drain.
================ Author's Ego Note #2 ================
So that's part 2 for you. Not much to say, other than the little bit that I forgot to add to part 1:
This story is dedicated to the perfect man in an imperfect situation... here's to hoping that the future brings better tidings.
Copyright 2004 by TehGenius. Comments and constructive criticism welcome at stories@tehgenius.com.