Furniture Store

Title: Furniture Store
Word Count: 2,307
Rating: Oh yeah, definitely an NC-17
Warnings: Un-betaed, slash, hedonism, frottage(?)
Summary: A salesman who may love his job a bit too much.

“Thank you. Have a good night!”

The door chimed one last time as he tripped the sensor while locking the door. He watched for a moment as his last sale of the night walked to their car, no doubt trying to figure out how on earth they were going to fit the three-piece sectional sofa he just sold them into their apartment. Greg shrugged his shoulders as he walked back to the sales desk. Not his problem. He just sold it to them, he didn’t care whether they could actually afford it or even if it would fit in their home.

“Hey, I finished the last of these sheets. Want me to stick around and help close up?” Dave asked as Greg sat down at the desk.

“Nah, go on home. I’ll be outta here in about thirty minutes, tops.” Greg looked up at the new salesman. “You sold five pieces today. Pretty good commissions, too. Boss’ll like that. Just don’t go getting’ carried away and trying to take my spot.” He smiled to take the edge off his words. Dave’s capped teeth glinted in the minimal lights left on after closing.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about that. I think they have to build a new wall just to put all your district sales awards on.” Shrugging into his windbreaker, Dave started towards the side employee exit. “I’ll see ya tomorrow. You opening?”

“Yep.”

“ ‘kay, see ya then.” The metal door slammed shut with a thick clunk and Greg was left to his paperwork. He liked the store at night; it was why he often volunteered to close. With only the security lights on and the store’s innocuous music turned off, the store became his own private world. Beautiful leather sofas, solid mahogany dining tables that were polished so well you could see your own reflection in them, sumptuous bedroom sets, just begging to be slept in, all for his eyes alone. At night, Greg indulged his hedonistic tendencies and often wandered the store, touching and feeling all the fine and expensive items. He knew that it was this nightly ritual that made him number one in sales throughout the district for over a year now. He took pleasure in these beautiful things and often brought that emotion to the fore when speaking to customers. He made them want the items as much as he did. But his secret was that he could revel in it all every night, but the customers had to buy a piece of it at a time.

With the last sheet signed, Greg got up from the desk and began straightening up. Once the obligatory tasks were finished: trash pulled out of basket waiting for janitorial services, all pens returned to their clipboards full of sales and order slips, desk lamps turned off, he set out on his journey through the ever changing scenes of display furniture.

Greg weaved his way through the living room sets first, enjoying the artwork on the faux walls, the silk floral arrangements, the expensive rugs and the plush sofas and armchairs. He by-passed the recliner section on his way to appliances. He loved the steel equipment best, with their polished shine and impressive array of buttons and features. He ran a finger along the handle of a range oven and casually opened a large twenty cubic foot bottom freezer refrigerator. He could see his blurred reflection in the cool steel as he shut the door. He took a second to look at himself. Tall, but not overly. Slim, but not thin. Blond, but not yellow. He was generically attractive, he knew. Eye pleasing, but not intimidating or obvious. The perfect salesman, really. With a quick tug to straighten his tie, Greg moved back through Appliances to his favorite section, Bedroom Furniture. He passed through Home Organization, walking through a hallway of bookcases, several of them showcasing elegant book spines made of cardboard.

A dark shadow suddenly loomed in front of him.

“Shit!” Greg grabbed his stomach and tried not to gasp as loudly as he could have. “Geez, you scared the crap outta me. I thought everyone had gone home.”

“Sorry.” The shadow moved forward until one of the few fluorescent lights still on lit the figure. Javier, the delivery supervisor, was grinning as his olive skin and large body was illuminated. His work shirt was unbuttoned and hanging open, revealing a white ribbed tank top underneath. “I was finishing up some paperwork and I saw that your car was still here. Thought I’d see if you needed any help.”

Greg had managed to calm his heartbeat to a healthier rate. “I was just doing my own paperwork. I was heading out just now.” The two men fell into step together. They exited the bookcase hallway and were surrounded by mattresses, lying all around them like white slabs of tombstone.

“Hey, I heard one of your guys backed a truck into a fence,” Greg said as they made their way through the Land of Lay, as the salesmen liked to call it. He liked Javier but was still surprised that he had no animosity toward the man at having to share his private walk through the store. He wouldn’t be able to stop and admire and touch like he usually did, but he didn’t mind. Most likely due to the other man’s unbuttoned shirt and tight, faded jeans. Javier was really quite something to look at. Lean muscle from years of lifting furniture and a tan that darkened his natural complexion, made the delivery supervisor something that Greg often pictured laid out on many of his best sales.

“Yeah. It wasn’t anything more than a scratch but I still had to write it up and send him out for a drug test. Had to do the paperwork on that, too.” Black hair trembled as Javier shook his head. “Ya know, I never thought I’d ever want the back-breaking simplicity of grunt work, but it sure beats the hell out of incident reports.”

Greg chuckled. “Yeah. What I wouldn’t give for a simple cash register sometimes, instead of that stupid computer that more often than not freezes on us and we have to long-form everything. I hate calling in for financing. Takes forever.”

“But you like your job, right? You’re really good at it.”

Greg looked up at his companion just as they were walking past the first bedroom display; a simple oak set in a rustic style with a cowboy painting above the bed. “Yeah. I like it. I like working with furniture,” he said with a smile. Javier nodded.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Ah man,” Greg laughed, “I’m not known as the furniture geek, am I?” They crossed into another furniture display, a Queen Anne bed with matching bureau made of stained walnut.

Javier shook his head again and looked down at the salesman. “No. I just know that you like to make your nightly rounds,” he said.

Greg stumbled to a stop. “My what?” he asked, startled. Javier stepped in front of him.

“I’ve seen you a lot doing what you were doing tonight,” he said in his slightly accented voice. “You like to walk around touching everything.” He took a step closer until they were nearly toe-to-toe. “I’ve watched you lay down on the beds and sofas. I’ve seen you smile as you smooth the bedcovers and straighten the paintings.”

Greg smiled nervously. “You’ve been watching me? Ah, man, now I will be known as the furniture geek. Or is that the guy with the furniture fetish?” He laughed hollowly and began walking again. “Well, can’t blame a guy for wanting to know his product. That’s the key to sales, ya know. You have to know—“

“I’m the only one who knows. I think it’s hot.” Greg was caught by the arm and spun around. Brown eyes met his and another hand came up to grasp his other arm. Javier’s voice was now low and breathy. “I’ve seen you run your hand along a dishwasher or a coffee table and I think about that hand doing the same to me.”

The scent of spearmint tickled Greg’s nose just before warm lips claimed his. Stubble rasped along the side of his chin as the lips became demanding. His feet no longer obeyed him but instead obeyed the pressure that was pushing him to step backwards. He was pressed hard against a partial wall. He heard the framed art clank against the wall as his back bumped against it. A groin, already hard, pressed against his. His own body took no time to respond.

Javier pulled back with a deep breath. “I never thought I’d be jealous of furniture,” he whispered into Greg’s mouth. “But when I see you rub it so softly and enjoy just the feel of it, I can’t help but want to try to be something that would bring you pleasure like that. I can’t help but want your hands on me and my hands on you.”

Greg was breathing heavy now. “We… we can’t do this. The cameras—”

“Don’t work. The only one that isn’t a decoy and actually records anything is the one over the sales desk.” Javier grinned. “Who do you think changes the tape?”

Greg stared for a moment and then grinned back. “Cool,” he said just before grabbing the slightly taller man by the back of the head and bringing their lips back together. The kiss quickly became out of control. Hands were rough and forceful as they attempted to pull clothing off the other, as if seeing who could get their partner undressed first. Suddenly, in a move designed to show who was in charge, Javier roughly pulled Greg away from the wall and flung him towards the bed. As Greg fell back on it’s starched display comforter, he recognized the teak four-poster as his favorite piece out of the entire store. He smiled as his companion loomed over him.

It didn’t take them long to get their clothes off after that. Javier kept the lead position, which was just fine with Greg, as he laid back and allowed the wonderful lips and tongue work their magic. He knew he’d feel it in the morning, but for now, the scrape of the stubbly cheeks and chin only heightened the over-all sensations. When Javier nearly swallowed him whole, Greg didn’t bother quieting himself. The fabric and furnishings throughout the building muffled his cries.

Javier rose up onto his knees and reached for his discarded pants. Withdrawing a small tube he flipped it open and squirted a large glob of something into his hand.

“You carry lube with you?” Greg asked, astonished. Javier smiled.

“No, lotion. All the crating material is murder on the hands.” With that, he winked and began leisurely coating his cock with it. Greg watched what was intended to be a show and was soon more than anxious.

“Enough. You’re killin’ me,” he whispered. Javier chuckled but then grabbed Greg when the smaller man tried turning over.

“Nah, not the first time. Maybe next,” he said with a wicked grin. Then he was kissing Greg into the mattress and slowly lubricating his cock. When Greg was as slippery as Javier, the olive-skinned man pressed their groins together, trapping their hard flesh between them. Greg gasped at the sensation, but moaned when his companion began thrusting, causing the greatest friction for both of their pleasure.

“Yes, I knew it’d be good,” Javier hissed into Greg’s neck. “I knew you’d be sensitive and responsive.” Greg couldn’t form any words and merely wrapped his arms around the brunet’s shoulders, holding tight as the pounding became more and more intense. The feeling of the bigger man’s weight on him, of the large cock rubbing along his own, the sound of the heavy masculine breathing was sheer bliss. And when he opened his eyes, he saw the gorgeous fleur-de-lis carvings at the top of the four-poster he so loved. The four-poster that was currently bumping rhythmically into the faux wall, causing the armoire mirror to shake and the artwork on both sides of the wall to clack in cadence with the headboard. He couldn’t think of any fantasy he’d ever had that could possibly be as good as reality was in this moment.

“Unh,” Javier grunted. “You’re coming first,” he panted. “I wanna see you come hard, on this bed.” He picked up his speed and pressed more of his weight down into Greg’s. When he bit the side of his neck, Greg came hard with a shout. His head went back and he dug his heels into the mattress, bucking wildly in the throes of absolute pleasure.

With a curse in Spanish, Javier followed right after, biting down hard on Greg’s pale shoulder. He jerked his hips several times as he emptied himself onto Greg’s stomach, then fell limp onto his side, his arm flung over the pale chest next to him.

The only sound was their breathing, slowly returning to normal, and the hum of the air conditioner kicking on.

“That was amazing,” Greg murmured as he stared dazedly at his fleur-de-lis bedposts. He turned his head to look at his lover. “How long have you been planning that?”

Javier smiled with his eyes closed. “About a month. Right after we got this model in and you couldn’t keep your damn hands off the bedposts.” He opened his soft brown eyes. “You know, you really need to stop stroking such phallic objects.”

Greg chuckled. “I didn’t know I was being watched.” He squinted one eye in thought. “This place is like a maze. How could you watch me?”

“If I told you that,” Javier said with a grin, “that would take all the fun out of surprising you again.”

“Again?” Greg asked with a smile.

“Most definitely, Mr. Salesman.”