by Peter Styles
He wondered how many next times there would be.
“Mr. Finley is all the way up on the third floor. He instructed me to tell you to wait in his office. When you get out of the elevator, go straight and continue down to the third door on your left. I will call him and let him know you’ve arrived.”
“Thank you…” Jeremiah looked at her name plate. “Ms. Temple.”
“The pleasure is all mine! Boss couldn’t stop talking about how you were finally going to come visit us. Everyone is so eager to meet you.”
Judging from the way he was greeted just by walking through the door, and by agents who didn’t even know who he was, Jeremiah had to think that was true. And it was all true. Everything Chris said.
He headed over to the elevator and rode it all the way up, and followed Ms. Temple’s instructions to reach Chris’s office. It was unlocked, presumably just for Jeremiah to enter. Chris couldn’t trust his staff enough to keep it unlocked at all times, could he? There had to be a line somewhere.
The office was, well, an office. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about it except for the two large windows on perpendicular corners, but they were just windows and the view outside was unremarkable as far as Jeremiah could tell. Gray. A whole lot of gray and silver, buildings and roads, with the only color being the cars that ambled along like so many iridescent beetles.
The rest of the office was filled with bookcases, filing cabinets, an immense desk, and a few extra chairs shoved into the corner. Stacks of files and forms perched on those seats like unwelcome guests.
A fresh scent like laundry detergent made him feel somehow at ease. What was more comforting in the world than that scent, which brought to mind imaginings of home?
He had no idea how long he had before Chris came from his meeting, although the general idea of it seemed to be that they would leave almost immediately. If he was going to find out some secrets, it had to be now.
Jeremiah circled around the monster of a desk and dropped his butt into the chair behind it. It was a good chair, for sure, but he also felt like sitting in even the best chair all day would make him go mad.
He reached out for the nearest drawer and pulled it open. No good. A junk drawer, although a fantastically neat and organized one. As he softly closed it and reached to open another, it occurred to him that even though he was minoring in business, he knew nothing about real estate. More to the point, he had no idea what Chris’s bookkeeping was like, or anything; how was he supposed to recognize fraud then?
This drawer was full of blank forms, all of them the exact same thing. Jeremiah stared down at them, but the lines of text danced before his eyes. Tension caught in his spine, rendering him useless.
Footsteps on carpet, just outside the door.
Jeremiah closed the drawer and straightened up just as Chris stepped inside. His eyes were tired, but his smile was genuine. He also looked incredibly good in his business suit.
All at once, he was glad that he hadn’t had a chance to look at anything else in the desk.
“Hey, Jeremiah!” Chris said, brightly. “How do you like it here, huh? Isn’t it everything I said it would be?”
“That’s Mr. Bird to you,” Jeremiah said, haughtily. He folded his hands on the desk and glared over them at Chris. “Go fetch me a cup of coffee, secretary.”
Chris laughed. “I would, sir, but I’m sure I could find something better to keep you awake. A movie, perhaps.”
“What kind of movie is going to keep me awake?” Jeremiah asked, tilting his head.
“A scary one.”
He blinked a little and set his hands down flat on the desk. “We’re going to see a horror movie?”
Chris nodded. “I’m a bit of a connoisseur, actually. It’s my favorite genre. I can’t remember the name of this one we’re about to go see, but it’s about the UFO lights over Phoenix.”
“Like… that was a real thing?”
“The lights, yes. Aliens? Probably not.” Chris pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “Do you mind handing me that bag from under the desk, boss? I have a change of clothes in there so I don’t have to go to the movies looking like an entitled brat.”
Jeremiah obediently passed over the black gym bag that he hadn’t even noticed under the desk, and Chris left the room to go change. This time, he didn’t even bother looking in the drawers. He wouldn’t find anything anyway.
Chris returned, looking somehow even sexier than before in just jeans and a t-shirt. He looked exactly like he should have, like a young man headed out for a casual date.
“Let’s go, then.”
At the theater, Chris bought them a popcorn to share and they settled into the theater just in time for previews, all of which were for other upcoming horror films. Jeremiah didn’t pay much attention to them, because now he had a different concern. They were sitting in the back of the theater with not many others nearby. The theater itself wasn’t half full, probably due to how long the movie had already been showing. When the lights dimmed and the movie started, they would effectively be alone. That meant he was going to be expected to fool around. At least, that was all he had ever done with Markus when they sat in the back of a theater together.
His stomach went tense with nerves. It must have showed on his face because Chris turned toward him. “You doing okay?” he whispered.
“Fine,” Jeremiah whispered back.
Even finer, and also less fine, if you start kissing me.
The last trailer ended and the lights dimmed. The movie started…
And played, and nothing happened in the back row of the theater where Jeremiah and Chris were sitting. The arm rest between them was up, but the boundary between seats was never crossed. Chris simply settled in with his popcorn and soda, eyes glued to the screen. At one point his arm came up and draped over the back of Jeremiah’s chair, but that was as far as he went.
Which meant that now Jeremiah actually had to watch the movie. He had been hoping against hope that the horror genre was overblown and that horror films weren’t really all that scary—a result of loving hype and hyperbole—but he quickly found that he was wrong. From the first shaky camera panning shot, he felt his blood chill and tension form at the nape of his neck.
How am I going to get through this?
He found himself instinctively leaning toward Chris, who spared him a sideways smile and leaned over as well. His shoulder pressed up into the hollow beneath Chris’s arm and against his side.
And that was how they watched the movie. Jeremiah just hoped Chris couldn’t see him sometimes closing his eyes. At least, that was how they watched half of the movie. Chris suddenly straightened up and placed one hand over his pocket, which was buzzing faintly but still loud enough to be heard by the other moviegoers. A few heads turned in their direction.
“Hold my popcorn,” Chris whispered, passing the bag over. “I have to go take this.”
“Oh… okay.”
Jeremiah watched him hurry off down the theater steps and out through the exit. Now he was going to have to watch this by himself, without the safety net of another’s presence. The fact that there were others in the theater didn’t really help. They weren’t close enough, and he didn’t know them.
He lasted for three minutes before giving up. He would just use checking up on Chris as an excuse for his inability to handle what was probably actually a pretty tame film.
Still, he thought he felt the judgmental gazes of the others in the theater as he scurried out.
The light in the hall of the theater was almost blinding compared to the stifling darkness. Jeremiah blinked rapidly, looking around to see if he could find Chris. He was nowhere to be seen, however.
Wonder if he went to take a leak? Should I…
If he didn’t check the bathroom, he risked looking like an idiot by making a big deal out of nothing. But if he did, he ran the risk of catching a glimpse of Chris’s Finley Jr., and he wasn’t sure how that would end.
J
ust a peek, then. Not at Finley Jr., but into the bathroom.
Feeling as much of a creeper as he possibly could, Jeremiah skulked toward the men’s room and padded quietly down the short-tiled hall to the corner. Keeping his ears peeled for any others who might stumble upon him acting so weirdly, he poked his head around and then immediately pulled it back again. The quick glimpse was more than enough. Chris stood leaning over the sink, face dripping with water as he fumbled for a paper towel.
“Did you fall in?” Jeremiah asked, approaching. He grabbed a towel from the holder he passed and pressed it into his companion’s hand.
Chris grinned his thanks and scrubbed his face dry. “I’m glad I didn’t. Their janitor needs to do a better job in here.”
Jeremiah made a face, making an effort not to look at the line of open stalls behind them, or the wall of urinals. “Everything okay? You left kind of suddenly.”
After all the other man’s openness, the last thing he expected was for a mask to fall across Chris’s features. It wasn’t a very convincing mask, allowing the stress beneath to still be seen, but it was still a mask. “I’m fine,” Chris snapped. Jeremiah flinched, about to put his hands up in submission, but Chris had already softened again and was shaking his head. “Sorry. That was kind of abrupt of me, wasn’t it? It was just my head bothering me. I guess I’m tired after working all day.”
Markus never apologizes for snapping at me.
“It’s okay,” Jeremiah said. He crossed the space between them and lifted one hand to pat Chris’s shoulder. His fingers tingled, but he didn’t ignore it this time. Instead, he left his hand where it was and let the tingles happen. “You’re allowed to be tired. You aren’t invincible.”
“Ha. I think you’re the only person in the world who’s ever told me that.” A bitter look crossed the blond man’s face. “My… advisor… thinks I shouldn’t be getting into a relationship at all. Not that I’m saying we’re in one. I hope you get the point.”
“I get it,” Jeremiah said. He didn’t want to let go. He tightened his grip on Chris. “I think we’ve missed enough of the movie so that there isn’t really a point going back in. Let’s get out of here.”
They walked out of the restroom together, somehow finding their hands clasped together between them. Neither said a thing about it.
“Do you want me to take you back to your car?”
Jeremiah shook his head, tilting it back to look up at the sky. The city lights prevented stars from ever showing their brightness, but the darkness was so full of blinking planes and helicopters that it hardly mattered. “I don’t think I want to go back yet. Isn’t there anything else we can do?”
“I think there might be a park nearby, although not really a big one. I think it’s called Paley or something.”
“Is it smart to go walking so late at night?”
“Is this a bad time to tell you that I’m always packing heat?”
Jeremiah looked over at Chris, sitting there behind the steering wheel with a serious look on his face. He couldn’t help himself. “Your dick doesn’t count as a weapon.”
It was a good thing traffic was low; Chris slammed his foot on the brake and then leaned forward, shoulders jerking with laughter. He couldn’t seem to get a breath, the sound hitching in his throat. Jeremiah laughed too, caught up in the funny sounds the other made. It felt so good to joke that he didn’t regret a thing.
Lights from an approaching car drifted up the street behind them, urging Chris to move on again. His breath still shook, shoulders still jumping slightly. “Goddamn,” he said. “You don’t even know what caliber…” He stopped himself and shook his head. “I was going to make you laugh and everything when I pulled out this tiny pocket knife I carry around, but you beat me to it. Thank you, Jeremiah.”
“Thank you for thinking you can protect me from a gang with a tiny pocket knife,” Jeremiah teased. “I like a confident man.”
“It’s not exactly in a bad part of town, so we’ll be okay.”
“Sometimes I think it’s all a bad part of town. Town is just bad in general.”
Chris didn’t comment on that for a moment. Then he shrugged. “It’s not the location, or even the people. It’s some people, you know. But I don’t really want to talk about this.”
“Do you feel like talking about business?”
“Why would I want to?” Chris’s voice gained that sharp edge again. “I’ve done nothing but be a businessman all day. I want to just be a man right now.”
“I thought it just might help you relax a little bit if you talk about what’s bothering you,” Jeremiah said, backpedaling rapidly.
“I appreciate it, but no. And look. We’re here.”
Paley Park was the definition of small. It was a few walkways around a thick, tight stand of trees, which all wrapped around a cobblestone area with tables set up inside. Chris got out of the car and headed off immediately down the nearest path, and Jeremiah hurried after him. He grabbed for the other man’s hand… and was completely taken aback when Chris gripped him tightly, crushing his fingers. It was a surprise more than it hurt, and his mouth opened to let out a startled squeak.
The sound never had a chance to escape. Rough, furious lips crashed down against his, pressing hard. Chris had him by both wrists now, snaring him as his lips attacked.
Jeremiah willingly gave in to the assault, closing his eyes just as they started to roll back in his head. His hands tingled. His blood pounded in his ears, pounding through his body; tingles were carried in on the flow, culminating in the areas where his pulse was strongest. He was on fire; flame and desire and need. His mouth opened for Chris, letting his wet, burning tongue in. When a thigh pressed firmly between his legs, he pressed eagerly against it and started thrusting his hips forward to rub his swollen member on the other. Chris’s scent wreathed around him, so powerful he didn’t know how he never noticed it before.
His hands were released suddenly, as he felt Chris hold his ass and pull him in even tighter into the embrace. Their tongues fought between them, feverish with need.
Raising his arms, Jeremiah wrapped them around the other man’s neck and then started to slide his fingers down his spine.
And then he was gasping in air, while Chris backed away with his chest heaving. Disappointment pulsed through his entire body. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” Chris gasped out. “No. I just need to make sure you wanted that. Last time…”
Jeremiah moved back toward him, led by the shaft in his pants that stuck straight out in front of him. “I wanted it. I—”
But, Chris held up one hand, stopping him. “I’m glad. I’m so glad. I just… I’m not thinking clearly right now. I want to do this slowly. And right.”
Nothing about this will ever be right.
Turmoil rose up inside Jeremiah, choking him. The fire inside him, once stoked and blazing, was banked again. His heartbeat slowed. “Is there someone else?”
He actually cared about that answer. He was also fully aware of the irony.
“No!” Chris said, so fervently that he could only be believed. “Jeremiah, I’ve never wanted anyone but you this way before. I’ve had sex but you’re something else.”
Jeremiah’s heart swelled in his chest. The fire was back, but behind his eyes now in a new form of moisture. “Then what’s the problem?”
“I’ll explain to you when I’m ready. And that’s all I’m going to say.”
It wasn’t good enough, but it was going to have to be. Jeremiah just nodded in response, and was rewarded with another kiss. This one was slow and tender, accompanied by a hand that cupped his cheek. He savored it, eyes closed.
“I think we should go back to the car,” Chris murmured. His breath was hot. “And get you back to your car so you can head home.”
“Chris… are we okay?”
Those hazel eyes were almost as dark as his own at this time of night, but he didn’t need to see their color to understand the intent beh
ind them. Though they shouldn’t have been, they were okay.
Chapter 12
If a man’s home is his castle, Chris’s was in desperate need of a team of maids. His natural inclination to be messy was something he had worked on endlessly while forming his company. It was Susan, who had been with him almost since the beginning, who helped implement the systems he used in order to keep everything organized. Still, she was always the one who kept him on track.
He had nothing like that in his personal life. Add onto that the fact that he was a busy man, and he tended to seriously neglect his housekeeping. The sink was full of dishes, and the carpets needed vacuuming. Crumbs covered the top of the coffee table, and he had quite a few lightbulbs that needed changing. While he didn’t exactly live in filth, it occurred to him every time he had to wash out a new coffee mug that he might want to get a schedule sorted out for this aspect of his life too.
Especially if, someday, Jeremiah came over. How embarrassing would it be to have that professional other, that meticulous man, wading through this cesspool of a bachelor’s apartment? Then again, that would be almost like a lie. Chris lived this way. It was nothing to be too ashamed of, was it?
There was a lot of time to get that figured out, however. Jeremiah wasn’t going to come over so soon, and Chris wasn’t going to force him. You didn’t drag a unicorn to sex, you let him come to it on his own terms.
The microwave in the kitchen beeped incessantly, informing him that his popcorn was done. Grabbing a red mixing bowl off the counter, Chris poured the contents of the bag inside and then headed back into the living room. Setting the bowl down on the aforementioned coffee table, he started to sit down on his couch to resume watching the news.
Just as his rear touched the cushions, there was a knock at his door. He looked up, already standing again.
Who could that be?
Curiosity overtaking him, he said, “Coming,” and strode over to the door to open it.