These Days

A/N: Sorry, this is sort of a transitory chapter. Not a lot goes on. But it will...eventually :) ne!
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Tye sat with his manager for a good half-hour or so to organize for his week off without getting fired. Using the office computer to boot his thumb drive, Tye showed his personal records of their agreement and his hours over the last year. Finally, with some calls to other workers for who wanted overtime, Tye was granted a full seven days off without pay.

Pleased, and anxious to get some work done, Tye sped home and settled himself with a cold drink and his papers in his office. Letting his computer and programs boot up, he read through the already opened pack thoroughly and examined the roughs that the offices had sent along.

The heavy low beats of music thrummed through his fingers as he worked through some files and checked his programs. Words indistinguishable from the music filled his head and blotted out all other thoughts while he sketched on his extremely expensive but massively helpful digital pad. The clock clicked through five, seven hours before he glances at the digital numbers again.

Despite the effort of hours the design was barely more than rudimentary. A crick in his back encouraged him to stretch, which made him aware of his aching, empty stomach. And in standing he caught sight of the bed Smith had used and had failed to make up after himself.

Tye had intended to head straight to the kitchen. He really had. The lure of a cold sandwich and sweet coke tempted the hungry forefront tastebuds on his tongue. But instead he found himself facedown on the old mattress. The cloth was soft and rumpled and smoothed over his bare skin. Into his nose sank the tangy smell of beer and ocean and cologne and male.

Tyler’s erection began slow, an unaccustomed acknowledgment of his body lifting the organ to attention. It dragged across the bed as if in slow motion, stroking the place where Smiths lay.

Groaning at himself and turning to his back, Tye stared at the ceiling and rested a shaking palm over the still-encased organ. Masturbation had deteriorated into a physical reflex to lonely mornings with hot showers, not fantasy-led heart-wrenching diversions. But as his fingers blindly worked the button and zipper of his jeans he felt the thick softness of Smith’s hair against his cheek. When his hand gripped his erection in the first nearly-painful touch he imagined Smiths body hard and hot as it stretched over him. The ensuing moan-inducing pumps were flashes of Smiths vibrating voice through his head, the incidental brush of body against body, the image of him sleepy, just awakened, and leaning against the doorframe.

Tye finished with gasp, his back curled against the mattress, head arched painfully behind him, and the twitching eruption of his cock covered his hand in sloppy cum. He didn’t get up and simply turned his face into the sheets to breath in deep calming breaths of Smiths’ lingering scent.

*

Smiths had only a few minutes by himself when he returned to his room before Maggie called him down to eat and help with the cleaning up. He was scrubbing something black and sticky from the bottom of a pot when he heard his Pop’s in the dining room.

Abandoning his dishes, Smiths snuck over to the cracked door and eaves dropped on the trembling strong voice that drifted through, “I went out to the woods. It was the dead of night by now. And I called out into the forest, ‘Who’s there! Show yourself!’ but nothin’ answered me, so I hollered again, ‘Come outta there!’ Then I heard it. As high as a bat’s screech it rent through the air, nearly deafened me. But I wasn’t afraid. So I moved on forward and with my lamp high over my head so I could see clearly I stepped into the woods.” There was a collective gasp from the young audience and someone whimpered a bit but Pops kept going, “That scream came again and could have stripped my skin clean off. But I kept goin and if it hadn’t hollered out a third time I might of crush it. But as it happened I stopped just before it bent down to look. Whatever it was, was wrapped in a dark green gossamer quilt with embroidery so fine no human hand could have done it. Strange patterns like words or hieroglyphics covered the front of it. I lifted the cloth aside and revealed, to my surprise, what looked to be a human baby. Its skin was rich as the sun though washed out by moonlight and now that I bent over him, there were no cries or even any sign that he had been upset. These great pale green eyes stared out calmly at me from a round, pudgy face.”

“What’d you do!?” Cried a distraught little girl.

“What could I do? I took him home and raised him as my own.”

“You raised him? You mean he’s real?!”

“Course he’s real! He’s in the kitchen.”

Smiths chuckled softly and stood back as eight little faces suddenly filled the doorway gazing at him with wide, astonished eyes. For a moment he was tempted to shout “Boo!” like he had when he was younger. But he liked to think all that time on the open ocean earned him some maturity so he simply smiled and lifted down a big tray of fresh chocolate chip cookies for them to snitch from. They crept forward one by one and slipped a still-warm cookie from the tray before dashing back out the door with a tossed “Thank you fairy-man!” behind them.

When the kitchen was empty again Smiths continued to scrub his pile of dishes and thought about how ironically appropriate it was to call him a “fairy-man.” And that line of thinking got him focused on the fact that he was going on a date tomorrow with Tyler. A warm blush tingled across his skin with pleasure. But at the same time he felt an uncomfortable twinge in his stomach. He hadn’t been on a “date” in a while. And he didn’t want this to be a “poke and hump” kind of night.

Tyler was beautiful. But not like women were. His body was strong and solid for all it was so much smaller than Smiths. And he could be gentle and caring but still strong enough to work full time at a lumber company. And his smell. Every time Smiths had gotten close enough to breathe in Tyler’s skin it has smelled sweet and rich with a persistent underlying muskiness that made him succulently male.

With the dishes finished and the kitchen straightened to Maggie’s specifications Smiths happily took off to the bar to meet up with a couple of his friends. And maybe he had some small hidden hope that Tyler would be there again in perhaps a less drunk state.
The bar was bustling with some of Smiths old buddies who hadn’t seen him yet as well as some that had been there the night before. But no sign of Tyler.

*

Tyler was crunching a delightfully fattening grilled cheese sandwich with creamy tomato soup while the television hummed in front of him. It was a movie, something about a duchess and her lover and children, but there were more commercials than movie. Tyler didn’t mind though, he was hardly paying attention. His skin was still damp from the shower and his sweat pants and wife-beater were almost too hot but he refused to change again.

The food was refreshing and gave him a chance to rest his eyes from their tedious position in front of the computer. Smiths still haunted the edges of his thoughts but if he didn’t focus on it much he could almost ignore the presence completely.

Outside night had fallen and Tyler looked out the open window to the barely cloudy sky. Maybe Smiths was at the bar again with his buddies. It would only take half an hour to find out. But he’d have to change again. And going out not just to see if Smiths was around might make him desperate. The buzz of his phone on the coffee table pushed his heart into his throat. But he calmly reached for it as if someone was watching his movements and checked the ID. Jaque.

A half-snarl half- groan filled his nose and mouth and Tyler dropped the phone back on the table, wincing from the sharp noise and the continued buzzing.
Ignoring the series of calls and kicking himself for being so excited, Tyler dumped his dishes in the sink and went back to his office. He studiously ignored the rumpled bed and sat hard at the desk. A few clicks had an online radio blaring a continuous stream of heavy string music so that nothing but the music and the design could sustain in Tye’s head.

Smiths woke to the cool air of the morning. His window was slightly cracked and wafts of chilly air ran along his exposed skin. With a groan he rolled up and came face-to-face with his happy, slobbering dog. Laughing and giving the pup a rough pat on the head he pulled himself from the bed and started getting dressed, “Today’s the day. Our date!” He told Heloise, “Think its too early to go see him?”

The dog let out a bark loud enough to wake the town.

“I agree. Its never too early to surprise a cute boy!”

With that decided and himself fully prepared for the day, Smiths tucked away his wallet and keys and left to find – perhaps even have the pleasure of waking – a particular boy who promised him a date. Heloise trotted at his heels. The morning was still gray and a little foggy but it provided for a refreshing drive with the windows down and the wind rushing through. He arrived at Tye’s faster than he would have thought but Heloise seemed thankful for it and leapt out behind him to run around the cleared yard. Leaving the beast outside, Smiths knocked sharply on the front door. Music was thrumming from inside but no one came to the door. He knocked a few more times and got no answer and so, executively, turned the handle. It opened easily under his touch and a thrill ran through him. Maybe Tye had been expecting him.

Nebulous and insane images of Tye stretched out and begging on his bed, or the couch, or the floor, rushed through his head. But when he entered Tyler was not on the floor, or in the kitchen. Smiths followed the music to the back study where he had fallen asleep the other night and blood filled his ears at what he found. The computer was set up and blaring music, several windows were opened to show a completed commercial re-playing constantly over them and Tyler was curled on his side in the middle of the rumpled bed. His shirt was twisted and exposed his side while the sweat pants had rolled up to bare both of his calves. He was shivering and moaning and the single window in the room was cracked just enough to keep it was warming up.

Choking down his instinctual disbelief and impatience, Smiths gently tugged until he could pull covers over Tyler covering the exposed skin properly. Then he left and checked on Heloise who was still trotting the yard happily. Checking all the windows were shut and locating the thermostat Smiths notched it up a few degrees. A phone buzzed on the coffee table. Without thinking Smiths flipped it open and answered, “Yes?”

A plaintive, foreign, male voice responded, “Tye? Baby?”

“Sorry, Tyler’s asleep. Can I take a message?”

“And who are you? What are you doing there?!”

“I’m going on a date today. Who are you?” Smiths let a little of his frustration creep into his voice, lilting his words with a growl.

“I’m his lover.”

Smiths felt a shudder through his feet, “His lover?”

“That’s right. I’ve been trying to get a hold of him. We had a fight and he ran off, where is he?”

Smiths weighed the question carefully, “I’m sorry but you must be confused. Tyler’s been here for over a year now. If you were his lover you’d know where he was. Goodbye.”

Without waiting for a response Smiths clicked the phone shut. Almost immediately it rang again but Smiths prudently removed the battery. Hopefully Tyler wouldn’t be angry about that later.

Mulling over the other man and wondering what all he didn’t know about Tyler, Smiths meandered back in to check on him. Tye was clutching the covers around him now but was still shivering. Smiths sat on the side of the bed and ran his hand over Tyler’s soft hair. Tye keened into his touch and turned over though it cast off his covers and curled towards Smiths. With a half-sigh Smiths pulled the afghan off the floor and tossed it over Tyler again. Then he plucked of his boots and shimmied beneath the thin but surprisingly warm cover and pulled Tyler close to him.

In this position Tyler placed his hands on Smiths chest and slid them around to his back until he was practically hugging Smiths. But he was sleeping peacefully. Soft noises coming from his throat and an occasional discomfort causing him to squirm again Smiths warm body.

Smiths petted his back and laid his head down above Tye’s. He wondered if the boy was torturing him on purpose but a keening when he stilled his hands scratched against his heart and he found he didn’t mind even if it was torture.

A few deep breathing minutes later both men were sleeping soundly, Tyler’s feet tucked against Smith’s shins and Smith nuzzling the top of Tyler’s head.

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And thanks to all my lovely reviewers! Cella, Lisa, kylee, and Jthechosen1. I do always appreciate it. The next chapter will be for you guys :)