by Solet, Trina
"Dad!" Al yelled to snap him out of it. Good boy.
Zack let Al run past him to the car in the driveway, where he would only have to wait impatiently for Zack to unlock the door for him. He hoped to teach him the lesson that sometimes rushing doesn't pay off.
"You're too slow," Al complained as he climbed in and buckled himself into the car seat even before Zack was done closing the back door.
"Let's go see those dancing dogs."
"Jumping Dogs," Al corrected him.
Al wasn't wrong to rush them. It was a mob scene. They just barely managed to find a parking spot in time for the start of the performance. The place was packed with put upon parents and screeching kids. Like Al, they were all there for the Jumping Dogs. As far as Al was concerned, all the other acts were just filler. It was all about the Jumping Dogs. He started screaming as soon as they scampered onto the stage and didn't stop until they scurried away behind the curtain. There were six small, brown dogs of the same breed. The woman who guided them through their performance spoke to them in some Eastern European language. They jumped through various contraptions, none of them on fire, thank God. They had several synchronized routines that were very much like dancing. So Al had to squeal, "They're dancing!" The dogs did some amazing tricks, and they were damn adorable. Zack was just relieved that there was no pet store anywhere nearby, or he would have had another mouth to feed by the time they got home. Al was predictably overexcited, breathless and chattering non stop on the way to the car. On the ride home, he was telling Zack all about what he had seen even though he had been sitting right next to him watching the same performance only minutes ago. Al was also determined to tell PJ all about it and teach her some of those same tricks. Good luck with that.
Zack hardly had time to try and relax while Al drove PJ crazy. He was trying to teach her to hop on one leg and other impossible things. Fearing the worst, Zack was supervising the training. Then it was time to bring another guy into this circus.
"Let's go pick up Mark and Mark's stuff." Zack told Al.
"Can PJ come?"
Zack considered that he was doing PJ a favor leaving her behind and giving her a break from Al.
"What did I just say? There'll be three of us in the car plus Mark's stuff. There's no room for PJ."
"Yes, there is. PJ is small," Al insisted.
"Shush. No PJ."
When they arrived at Mia's, Mark was just bringing down his stuff from upstairs. He set everything by the door as he got ready to leave.
"Let me grab something." Zack reached for a bag though Mark protested. Zack wanted to take the stuff and let the Prestons have a minute with Mark, especially Dorie who was staring at him like she didn't want him to go.
"I can carry something too," Al volunteered as well then reached for a box full of books.
When Mark tried to keep him from trying to lift it, Zack stopped him.
"What's the matter? Lift it already. We don't have all day," Zack taunted Al. He heard Mia say something about him being mean.
"It's heavy," Al complained and furrowed at Zack.
"I told you to eat..."
"Ahh! Don't say broccoli!" Al said then reached for a smaller item to carry. Now Mark did stop him since Al was reaching for his laptop.
"Al. Never touch Mark's laptop," Zack warned him.
"Aww!" Al whined.
"You can help me carry this one," Zack offered. Al held onto one side of the bag without actually carrying one ounce of it.
As Zack loaded the car, Mia hugged Mark about a million times and cried. Frank was a little teary eyed too. Dorie held up well though at the last minute she didn't want to let go of Mark's hand. And this wasn’t even their final goodbye before leaving for Spain. It made Zack feel almost guilty for taking Mark away, but it also made him glad to see that they cared so much about him.
As Mark sat in the passenger seat, once again Zack noticed how good he looked. His eyes just wanted to stay glued to Mark's face and body. At least driving would force him to keep his eyes on the road. But even as he looked straight ahead, Zack was very aware of Mark's physical presence next to him. Mark was especially hard to ignore when he leaned over to turn and talk to Al in the back seat.
As they headed home, Zack noticed that Mark seemed a little down. He tried his best to be attentive to Al as he was telling him all about the Jumping Dogs, but leaving the Prestons must have been hard for him.
"We can stop somewhere to eat, if you don't mind, Mark," Zack said.
Before Mark could answer, Al was putting in his vote by yelling, "Pizza!"
Maybe he wasn’t in the mood for eating out, but not wanting to go against Al, Mark agreed.
They were seated quickly at their favorite little Italian place. The booths had green dividers, red seats and white tables. Al had insisted that Mark sit next to him, which put them both across from Zack.
"So you're allowed to have pizza?" Mark asked Al. He tried to look innocent, but he did give Zack a quick, accusing glance. He probably didn't think Zack let him have anything good.
"I indulge him a little when we eat out," Zack said while giving Mark an "I know what you think of me" look.
Al explained the pizza rule to Mark.
"I can have pizza, but it has to have a vegetable on it. And cheese is not a vegetable," Al said.
Mark was probably wondering why it even needed to be said that cheese was not a vegetable. Since he looked at Zack like he was somehow guilty in this, he had to defend himself.
"Don't look at me. Al tried to convince me that cheese was a vegetable."
"How?" Mark asked.
"Because it's not a meat," Al explained the reasoning for himself. He also poured over the menu, studying it carefully while pretending to read.
"Al, they didn't invent any new vegetables," Zack told him.
"I'm still looking." What he was doing was running his finger along the menu items like he was reading them.
"Jut pick green peppers like you always do," Zack said.
Al leaned toward Mark.
"Dad likes veggies," Al whispered to him like he was telling some shameful secret.
"Are you guys ready?" the waiter asked.
"Yes!" Al answered for all of them. Then he tried to put in an order. "We want the big pizza! The biggest one," Al told the waiter.
The waiter, who had seen Al in action before, smiled indulgently.
"You can disregard him. He has no money," Zack told the waiter. He let Mark order first.
"I'll have a slice with pepperoni." And that was it, his whole order.
Zack gave him a look then went on to order for himself and Al.
"We'll have one small with green peppers. Another small veggie lovers, hold the onions. And a small meat lovers."
Mark narrowed his eyes at Zack after the waiter left.
"That's three pizzas," Mark said.
"Oh, you can count. I am so glad I hired you," Zack mocked him a little.
"I can count too," Al put in.
Mark smiled at him before he went back to questioning Zack.
"You and Al are going to eat all that?" Mark said still trying to make him admit what was really going on.
"We always take the leftovers home. We’ll have them tomorrow for dinner. With a nice, big salad, of course," Zack said like he had nothing to hide.
"Did you order one of those pizzas for me?" Mark finally stated the obvious.
"Yes, Mark. Because you just ordered a single slice."
"Maybe that's all I want." Mark was barely even trying to be convincing.
"I know you're probably not comfortable ordering a lot on my dime."
"I can pay..." Mark started to say.
"Dinner is on me. Any time we eat out, it's on me. And I won't be comfortable ordering what I want if you don't order what you want," Zack explained.
"Are you two fighting?" Al asked.
"Mark is giving me a hard time," Zack complained to Al.
"When we fight, Miss Suzie
always makes us shake hands so we'll know the fight is over," Al told them wisely.
Zack put his hand out. Mark shook it and laughed.
"I feel very gentlemanly. Thank you, Al," Zack said.
"You're welcome," Al said as he rearranged his silverware.
Zack busied himself with his phone. It was just a hand shake. No big deal. But Zack felt like he needed to catch his breath. The touch of Mark's hand had reached right through him going straight to his groin. He hoped Mark didn't notice anything.
Mark kept his hand on the edge of the table as he looked out the window of the restaurant. It was starting to get dark. Al was talking about those performing dogs again. Mark looked at his hand. He didn't know a casual touch could spread from the palm of his hand and through his whole body. He had trouble swallowing and drank a sip of water. How was this going to work? How could he live in the same house with someone he was so hopelessly attracted to?
Zack carried the takeout boxes with all the leftover pizza while Mark carried in some of his stuff. Al made sure PJ didn't get out. Then he ran ahead to the room Zack had already offered Mark for his bedroom.
"PJ likes to sleep on this bed so it must be a good one," Al said as he stretched out on the bed himself.
"We changed the sheets," Zack reassured Mark.
"I helped make the bed," Al claimed.
Then seeing that in addition to taking credit for very little work, Al was making himself comfortable on Mark's bed, Zack reminded him about the new rule.
"Al. You remember what I told you about Mark's room."
"I know. Off limits!" Al said as he sat up and climbed off the bed.
"That's right."
For a second, Mark looked like he might disagree just to be nice but then he smiled. Zack wanted to give him as much space as he could, and make Al leave him alone too, which was he bigger challenge.
Zack was still going to be putting Al to bed, but Mark got to observe their bedtime routine. As they waited for Al to finish up his nightly consultation with PJ, Mark noticed the book Zack was going to be reading. He opened it up.
"Ha!" Mark said on seeing the first illustration in the book. He then shook his head over the coincidence. But soon he was reading and shaking his head in a different way.
"You read this to him?" Mark was a little appalled.
"He asked for it," Zack said.
"I guess you are working your way up to Stephen King."
"The Shining is next on his reading list. I also use it as a teaching tool," Zack said pointing at the book in Mark's hand.
"To teach him what? Not to get eaten by a rhinoceros?"
"Not to talk to strangers even if they try to give him a bag of glowing alligator tongues."
"That is an important lesson," Mark said with a straight face.
Mark was going to leave them alone, but Al asked him to stay and listen to the story. Mark took a seat on the floor next to the door to keep out of the way. Zack felt a little self conscious reading in front of him. Mark wasn't paying attention to him though. He seemed lost in the story. But even when Al was asleep and Zack stopped reading, Mark still stared off into space. Zack went up to him, and Mark suddenly shook himself out of his mood and stood up.
Neither one of them said anything. Zack could guess that Mark was thinking about his childhood, being tucked into bed by his parents maybe. Before he went to his room to unpack, Mark gave him a sad smile acknowledging what Zack already knew.
Zack retreated to his office and tried to do some work. With Mark just a few feet away, he couldn't stay focused. Again he felt that physical awareness of Mark's presence. And he wasn't aware of him as a stranger in the house, but as a hot, young male body within reach. Sometimes he could hear Mark moving around, and he would listen to those sounds with some undefined hope. Maybe he wanted Mark to walk in and invite him to share his bed. He could imagine that Mark would be warm, his body hard but giving. He could imagine them making love slowly because they had all the time in the world. They lived together now. Zack stifled a groan. How the hell was he going to get any sleep with Mark right down the hall?
Mark looked around his room. A typical guest room, it had little personality. But as he looked around trying to put his finger on it, he realized that the room gave off the impression of being only a temporary place to stay. No one lived here. Mark should be at ease in a room like that. Every place was temporary. This room was just more honest about it. Mark noticed that the blinds had been lifted. He looked outside. The window was on the side of the house and looked out at some shrubbery and then the tall hedge shared with the neighbors. At least the view would be green if not expansive. The best thing was still that there was a guest bathroom right there.
Mark was lying in a strange bed, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. The feeling of loneliness from before was gone. Mark felt an incredible tension and not just because he was hard and in need of release. He wanted Zack to come into his room, lock the door behind him, take off his clothes and climb into bed with him. He wanted him to do it without a question, as if they had already agreed to share their bodies and their lives. He imagined them as two grooms on their wedding night taking each other, belonging to each other.
To be decent in case he needed to get up, Mark slept in shorts and a t-shirt. There was nothing decent about him at the moment. He was a hard, pulsing well of unfulfilled need. He pushed off the cover and pushed down his shorts. His cock jutted forward from the dark hair it sprang from. As he looked at his erection, Mark wanted Zack to walk in so he could offer it to him. Instead, Mark gripped the shaft and bit his lip so he wouldn't cry out. Zack was watching him, touching him, sucking him. Mark came more quickly than he expected and then imagined Zack kissing him, carrying the taste of Mark's come in his mouth.
Mark couldn't remember if he had ever exhausted himself from coming so hard while masturbating. He felt that Zack had done that to him. He felt like Zack's body had really shared his bed, had warmed him and worked him to exhaustion so he could sleep.
Chapter 6
Waking up from restful sleep, Mark wondered if every night in this house would be like that, with a phantom Zack in his bed. The bright light of morning coming through the window dispelled some of the fantasies of the night before. To get rid of any lingering thoughts, Mark got up and took a quick shower which included some furious stroking.
Zack said that Mark didn't have to get up as early as he and Al did. Zack would still get him ready and take Al to kindergarten. Later on, when the summer break started, Mark would need to be awake by the time Zack went off to work, but not before. Mark decided that sleeping in would make a bad impression. He wasn't used to it anyway. At the Prestons' he had always gotten up early and made coffee. Mia and Frank had been so grateful to see coffee already brewed by the time they got up. They would shuffle into the kitchen like zombies and blindly reach for their cups while their eyes were still half closed. He also made better coffee than either of them. Dorie usually got up early too, like a lot of kids. She liked to help him with things.
As Mark stood in this new, unfamiliar kitchen without her there to count out the scoops of coffee, he knew he would miss her. She had started out counting as he scooped the coffee into the filter. Then as she got older, she did the scooping herself. Lately she had even been asking for her own cup of coffee. She had grown up so much, but she still wasn't allowed to drink coffee. As he was lost in thought, thinking about another kid, Mark noticed Al standing next to him in pajamas and bare feet.
"Want to help?" Mark asked him.
"I'm helping PJ," Al said while looking up at him and helping no one.
"PJ must be very busy," Mark said.
Al nodded.
"Do you know how your dad likes his coffee?" Mark asked though he didn't expect Al to know something like that.
"In there," Al said and pointed at a kitchen cabinet door. Mark opened it and found glasses and coffee cups.
"That one. No, the other that one," Al said as Mark
reached for some cups. He got a yellow coffee mug with the word Dad on it for Zack. That was probably the only useful information Al was likely to have on the subject of coffee. Mark decided to stick to a medium strength brew and let Zack tell him how he liked it.
"Which one can I use?" Mark asked Al. The cups were all different, not a set.
Al became thoughtful as he considered the various options. Then there was a decision followed by "that one, not that one", until Mark was holding a Christmas themed mug decorated with a goofy looking, possibly tipsy Santa Claus.
"Which one is yours?" Mark asked him.
"I can't drink coffee! I'm a kid," Al told him indignantly.
"Can you drive a car?" Mark asked him.
"Noo!" Al now looked at him incredulously and shook his head at his ignorance.
"How am I going to get to work then?" Zack asked as he came into the kitchen, already dressed for work.
"You are gonna drive!" Al told him.
"That's probably best until you can reach the pedals and see over the steering wheel," Zack told him.
Exasperated at the both of them, Al left the kitchen with another shake of his head.
"Gotta keep him on his toes," Zack said as he got out a cereal bowl. Then seeing that Mark had already made coffee he told him, "You didn't need to make coffee unless you're just making it for yourself."
"I was up anyway. Let me know if it's how you like it."
Zack poured himself some and only added some skim milk.
"I can take it a little stronger, but this is fine too," he told Mark.
Mark tried not to stare, but he checked out Zack a little bit. He wore a pale blue shirt with a dark gray tie and gray slacks. He had hung up a matching suit jacket over the back of a chair. He wore those colors really well. Though the clothes suited his coloring, he would have looked good in anything. Mark once again found himself admiring his physique. Naturally strong, not overdeveloped, it was not the kind of body that usually posed for the camera. It was real. It was the kind of body that pulled you close. Mark realized that he was just standing there, holding his Christmas coffee mug like an idiot. Feeling that he might get in the way of Zack's morning routine, he was about to leave.