Frank

I had no idea how much time had passed before I noticed John leaning against the door frame watching me while I worked on top of the ladder. I was lost in a fantasy involving the big man, and I blushed when I realized he was watching me and could most likely see the results of my fantasy in my tented pants.

"What's up?" I asked, with just a glance down at him.

It was a few beats before he answered, "I'll have this estimate written up tonight. Would you like me to drop it off in the morning?"

"Tomorrow's Sunday. You don't need to do that."

Again, there was silence for a few seconds before he asked, "You're going to be here working, aren't you?"

"I'll probably be here at least 12 hours a day - 7 days a week until I get this place opened for business," I said, pushing another screw hook into the beam.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow morning. It's my turn to buy breakfast."

I turned to look down at him, but he was gone. I stared at the empty doorway, depressed that he'd left so abruptly, and at the same time elated that I'd be seeing him in the morning.

After tightening the last hook firmly into the ceiling, I climbed down the ladder and wandered into the front. The day was gone; it was nearing dusk.

Leaning against the door frame that an hour before John had leaned against, I thought about what I knew about him. Hell, I hardly knew him. I did know, despite his size, that he was kind and gentle. I did know that he turned me on like no other man ever has. I did know that I love lying on his massive chest, feeling his muscles ripple. I chuckled at the sight that must be... me lying on him.

For all his protestations that he wasn't into small men, his actions with me belied his words. I re-experienced the sensations and emotions of when he'd lifted me off the ladder, laid me on the table, and took me in his mouth. God, John'd had me so excited that I'd lost my load the moment he put me into his mouth. It blew me away that the moment I'd filled his mouth, he'd climaxed without touching himself. I might not know where his head was, but I knew that we turned each other on.

So... what was it I wanted? I wanted to know John better. I wanted him in my life. Yes... I definitely wanted to keep him in my life.

I was back at my shop soon after sunrise. I'd had a cup of coffee and a toasted English muffin before I left the house. By nine o'clock John still hadn't shown up and I was hungry. Since it was Sunday, I figured that I'd give him until ten, and then I'd go get some food into me. I made a mental note to get a coffee maker tomorrow.

At ten to ten, I was standing at the window watching for him. At ten after, I locked the door, went into the back, got on my bike and headed out of the alley. As I wheeled onto the street, John's pickup came to a screeching stop two feet from my front wheel. Getting the shit scared out of me really makes me angry. I do not like being scared, and John had just about scared the crap out of me.

I glared at him as he got out of his pickup, looking kind of hang dog apologetic. Even though he looked like hell, and obviously had a hangover, his rugged handsomeness still impressed me. I found myself forgetting my anger and just being happy that he'd shown up. He shuffled over to stand in front of me before raising his bloodshot eyes. "Eaten yet?"

At least he was looking me in the eyes. I half-assed grimaced, attempting to get rid of my aggravation and said, "Nope, you?"

"Sorry to hang you up... just woke up half an hour ago... with a hangover from hell... I drank a little too much last night... God, I need some coffee."

I grinned at his attempt to explain, and I could feel his eyes on me as I wheeled my bike back down the alley and locked it in the back room. But when I walked back up the alley, he was no longer there. I found him back in his pickup with his head resting on the steering wheel.

When I climbed in, he raised his head and asked, "Where to?"

"Your call," I answered, slamming the door a little harder than necessary. I couldn't tell you why I was feeling so pissed.

We ended up at a little nondescript café about three blocks away.

"They make good strong coffee here." That was his only comment about the little café as he pulled to a stop in front of it.

There were four tables on the sidewalk - all occupied. But as we approached, a couple of guys were vacating one of them. We sat down and had to wait a couple of minutes before a waiter came out and handed us menus. As he cleared off the table, he asked what we'd like to drink.

"Coffee. Bring a carafe of it," John ordered.

"And ice water, too, please," I added.

When the waiter left with the tray of dirty dishes, I perused the menu doing my best to keep my eyes off John's chest, all the while wanting to reach across the table and tweak his nipples that nudged the tight black tee shirt he wore.

"Try their special. You'll like it," John suggested.

Without acknowledging that I heard him, I read the special. It was a glorified corned beef hash, sounded a little over the top, but I figured I'd order it just to appease him. If it was really bad, I could always order a hamburger or something else. We both ordered the hash with soft poached eggs and rye toast. I laid the menu on the table and studied John sitting there zombie-like.

"Wild party last night?" I asked.

He shook his head without opening his eyes. "Nope, just me and Johnny."

"Who's Johnny?" I asked, feeling a little flare of jealousy.

He opened one glazed red eye and glared at me. "Johnny Walker... was my best friend for a while last night, then I left him for Bud."

I stared back at him not having any idea who he was talking about. When he saw my uncomprehending vacant look, he frowned and opened the other eye. "Scotch and beer. Jeez, Farr don't you drink?"

"Nope. Well, an occasional beer, but that's all."

"Smart man," he muttered and closed his eyes.

I looked around at the shops that lined the block. There was a convenience store on the corner. I got up and told him I'd be right back. He didn't seem to have heard me. I strolled into the store and found the sunglasses display, picked out the largest, darkest ones, bought them along with a tin of Ibuprofen and went back to our table.

I dropped the sunglasses on the table next to the carafe of coffee and said, "Put these on. You're scaring people when you open your bloodshot eyes."

He glanced at the glasses, gave me an inscrutable look, picked them up and put them on. With an exaggerated sigh, he said, "Thanks, Farr. "

"Have you taken anything for your headache."

When he just slightly shook his head, I opened the tin and took out three tablets. "Here swallow these, and drink the whole glass of water."

He did, then muttered, "Thanks, Farr."

I studied him, noting his strong jaw, his high cheek bones, and his regal nose. I wanted to kiss his firm lips and run my tongue between them. No... I didn't want to think about that right now. I was still rather pissed at him. "So, why were you drinking alone?" I asked.

He looked at me; the shades reflecting my image back at me. "Just trying to figure things out," he mumbled.

"Booze really helps one think straight," I commented.

He looked away, then turned his face back to me. The glasses were so dark I couldn't see his eyes through them. I assumed that he was glaring at me, so I grinned at him.

"Damn you, Farr," he muttered. He picked up his mug and sipped it as he stared at me over the rim.

At that moment, the waiter brought our food. I watched John stare at the food. I'm sure he was wondering if he could keep it down. He took a tentative bite and then a bigger one. "Mmm, this is good. Try it, Farr," he said, through a mouthful.

I like good corned beef hash, but there are few places that make it palatable. This looked like they might have succeeded. The red and green bell peppers and the onion were finely chopped and well sautéed. There is nothing more disgusting than chunks of raw peppers in a dish that calls for well-cooked minced ones. This hash also had chopped, well cooked carrots, celery, and mushroom bits - and the potatoes were well browned. I took a bite and groaned. This was made to my specs. It was good.

"Told ya, you'd like it."

I simply smiled and continued eating. I cleaned my plate and noticed that John had only eaten about half of his. "Aren't you going to finish that?" I asked.

"Nope. Had enough."

"Mind if I finish it?"

He grinned evilly, "Go right ahead, Piggy."

"Hey, I'm a growing boy." I protested, as I pulled his plate across the table.

"Lost cause, Farr. Keep eating like this and you'll grow alright. Out... not up."

"Fuck you, John," I muttered, as I dug into his hash. Like I said, it was really good, and I was still hungry. John just refilled his cup and sipped his coffee. I scraped up the last bite and pushed the plate away. After refilling my own cup, I continued our conversation, by asking, "So, did you figure anything out?"

John eventually nodded. "Yeah, I did."

I waited. When nothing more was forthcoming, I asked, "Before, or after, you got totally snockered?"

He glared again, as he snarled, "Fuck off." He looked away, and then shifted in his chair to stare up the street. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he turned back with a wrinkled forehead and compressed lips and muttered. "Before."

As I added up the morning's sparse conversation, I felt him watching me through those dark sunglasses. "So...," I said, "whatever you figured out has something to do with me. And it made you so unhappy that you drank yourself into a stupor."

His expression didn't change as he just continued staring at me. I stared back for a minute, then I pulled out my wallet, dropped a couple of twenties on the table and stood up. "I gotta get back to work."

John stood, picked up the two bills and shoved them down my pants front. Damn, he can move fast. "Breakfast was on me," he growled.

I shrugged and said, "Thanks," about faced and started down the street ignoring the scratch of the two bills digging into my pubes. It was only three blocks back to my shop and at that moment, I just didn't feel like being with John another minute. I got about half way to the corner before his big hand landed on my shoulder. I twisted around and pulled away from him. I wondered if he realized how close he came to landing flat on his back.

"Keep your hands off me."

He looked like I'd slapped him. "Let me a give you a ride back."

"Why would you want to do that?" I snarled.

He pulled in on himself, looking defeated. Yeah, it was clear that he knew not to touch me again. I turned and walked on to the corner. As I crossed the street, I glanced back to see him still standing where I'd left him. Mentally shrugging, I kept walking.

"S.O.B.," I muttered. "Makes love to me, and then goes and drinks himself into a stupor. What the fuck's that about?"

Having let myself into the store, I wandered into the next room, over to the table where John had blown me yesterday. I rubbed my hand over the scarred surface and relived the event. I stepped back and looked at the dried spatters of his cum under the table. We hadn't bothered to wipe it up. With a shake of my head, I turned around and heisted my butt up onto the table where I just sat and stared at the opposite wall for a while. I couldn't rid myself of the warm desiring look in his eyes yesterday.

John

My head was throbbing as I stood there feeling defeated. Despite pills and the dark shades Farr had given me, my eyes felt like they were going to fall out of their sockets. My back ached from sleeping in a chair all night and I had a crick in my neck. I may have been late, which obviously pissed Farr off, but at least I showed up. Besides, we never really set a time. Alright, I know I'm whining. But even a big guy like me has a right to whine - once in a while.

I watched Farr walk out of sight as he headed back to his new store. I was torn between running after him, or just going home to bed. Fuck, I really felt like shit, so going home won out.

Of course, it had to be one of those rare days that the temp soared way above normal. I don't think anyone in the city has A.C. For sure I don't, and even though I had every window in the house open, I was miserable with the stifling heat - and my hangover.

I must have fallen asleep; it was early evening when I woke up. I lay there taking stock of the situation. My body ached from inactivity, and I swore a damned dog had shit in my mouth while I was sleeping, plus, my bladder was near to bursting, but at least my headache was gone.

I stumbled into the bathroom, grabbed a mouthful of Listerine and swished it around as I relieved my bladder. While I waited for the water in the shower to get hot, I sniffed my armpit. I usually enjoyed the scent, but not this time. Weird how too much alcohol changes the body's odor.

After showering, shaving and combing my hair. I sniffed myself again. I smelled clean, no alcohol residue. As I was dressing, my stomach growled. When I thought about where to eat, an image of Farr sitting across the table from me filled my head. What the fuck! Why in hell's name can't I get rid of him? The short little fucker just wouldn't leave me alone.

In a fit of rebellion, I called Rafe and Tommy, two of my old fuck buddies that shared an apartment a few blocks away. Actually, Rafael Ramirez is my best friend, as well. We'd met in the Corps and he'd followed me to San Francisco when his stint ended. Rafe answered.

"Hey, it's John. You guys want to get a bite to eat and then adjourn to my bed?"

I heard Rafe let out a rebel yell and call out to Tommy, "John's over it and wants to get together."

"Hot damn, tell him that I'm ready to ream him a new hole," I heard Tommy yell back.

'Fuckin' horny dudes.' I laughed and said, "Fifteen minutes. I'll meet you at Pomodoro. They're fast and the food is good."

"Fifteen," he agreed.

Frank

Not being able to think of anything except John after I'd walked back to my shop after breakfast, and not feeling like doing anything else but mope, I locked up, got on my Harley and headed out. I ended up on the freeway, headed towards San Jose. Once I passed the airport, I exited and headed down a paved road that ran through the marshy area along the edge of the bay. I came upon a little park-like place with concrete picnic tables and benches. There was no one around, so I pulled over and plopped down on a table close to the water and daydreamed.

I liked John. As I mulled over my whole experience with him, I realized that I could easily fall in love with him. In all of my thirty-two years, I'd only met one man I thought I was in love with, and that turned out to be more a case of lust on both our parts - we'd amicably split after about six months. I was only twenty-three then, fresh out of college and on my own.

After him, I kind of fell into the gay bar scene for a while; going home with a different man every night. After a while, that got to be totally boring, especially when most of them expected me to be a bottom because of my size.

One thing I liked about John was that he hadn't expected me to throw my legs in the air. No, he'd first sucked me off, and had gotten off himself without touching his cock. To me, that meant that I really turned him on. Then he'd let me lay on him and rub until we both simultaneously came. He'd been very content with me lying on him, and had held me and caressed my back until I'd broken the moment of intimacy.

I thought it was so nice that we're the same size in the cock department. I wondered if he liked to fuck... or be fucked... or both. I wondered if we'd have a chance to find out. My butt was getting numb from the hard concrete table, so I decided to head back home.

I puttered around the house for a bit and then flopped on the sofa. My resident feline decided it was time for me to pay him some homage. Spike loves to lie on my chest and be stroked with both my hands; starting at his head and caressing down to the end of his tail. I guess he and I have that in common, except, I don't have a tail. I quickly learned to put a towel over my shoulder for him to knead on; his claws are sharp weapons.

His tail is an entity in its own right. He has no control over it. The more I rub him, the more violently his tail swishes. I learned early on to make sure there was nothing that could be knocked over anywhere near it. When he was a kitten, he would try to grab it to stop it, but as he grew older, he realized the uselessness of the effort and gave up. Now he ignores it.

My size must really disturb John for him to drink himself into oblivion last night. Still, I know there's something about me that really turns him on. I wondered if he'd let anything come of his attraction to me.

That first afternoon, where he'd pulled me over to sit between his legs while he leaned back against the wall, and we'd just talked with his arms wrapped around me; that really said as much about how he might feel as him lifting me off the ladder and laying me on the table where he'd commenced to give me a blowjob. That, and him just holding me while I lay on top of him after I'd rubbed us to a climax.

Maybe I read too much into this morning. He had wanted, as bad as he was feeling, to take me back to my shop. Maybe I was too hasty and a bit too touchy. Well, tomorrow was Monday and he was supposed to be back to start the work on the new electrical system. Damn, he didn't leave me the estimate. Oh well, tomorrow.

I decided to call my friend, Herb. I hadn't talked to him in a week at least. We decided to go to dinner and catch up on our lives. He suggested Pomodoro. It sounded good; I hadn't been there for a while.