Sunday, August 10, 2014



*Story contains M/M relations and graphic sexual relations*

"Jason," Curt stuck his head over the divider between them, tossing a quick glance around the busy call centre. "I just got another one!"

Jason held up his finger, speaking into his headset. "No, please. It was my pleasure. Glad I could be of service." A moment of silence, a head nod, and he followed it with the standard, "Thanks for calling IT Connect and I hope you have an awesome day!" He pressed the button to disconnect the call and looked up at Curt with a grin. "Another one? What this time?"

"Another poem, of course. But, guess what? Not just the poem this time!" Curt could feel the flush on his cheeks, even as he waved Jason over, but he decided not to care. He sighed dramatically. "Now if I could only figure out how the sneaky bastard got my email address I'd be getting somewhere."

Jason laughed, pulled off his headset, and pressed the immediate fall of light brown hair out of his eyes. "Dude," Curt chided, "either cut that or clip it back, for Christ's sake."

"Never mind my hair." Jason stood, did his own quick look around the office and then ducked into Curt's space. "Show me what you got."

Curt located the hidden email icon and scrolled for a minute before double-clicking. He stepped away from his chair when Jason nudged him out of the way. "Okay, but quick. Bad enough if they catch you over here, I don't want them knowing I'm checking my email during 'company time'." He finger-quoted the words and waited for Jason to scan through the lines of text. When his co-worker's eyes shot up to catch his own, Curt grinned. "Well?"

"Definitely a stalker."

Curt snorted and cuffed Jason across the shoulder. "He is not! He's a really nice guy! Jerk!" Jason shook his head, laughing, and relinquished the office chair back to Curt. "Besides," Curt added after he plopped back down, "you're just jealous because it didn't work out with that Mandy chick from accounting."

Curt's phone flashed to let him know there was a call waiting on the line. He grabbed for his headset as Jason walked back to his desk and reseated his own. "Jealous?!" Jason scoffed around the mouth piece. "Whatever! Just don't get too involved, that's all I'm saying. After all, this guy could be anyone."

* * *

Curt set the already sweating glass of Mountain Dew down on his desk and stared at the monitor nervously. In stark contrast to the computer at the office, his home set-up was a creature of beauty: three ultra sharp, 30" flat panels, set in a tri-fold design. His focus was held by the one in the centre, not the right one scrolling through a program he was playing with, or the left one where he was losing a forgotten game. No it was his IM screen, pulled up to front and centre, because he was still too surprised to do anything but stare at it.

Secretangel1987... he recognized the name that was requesting access. He recognized it because it was the same freaking name that he'd been receiving the random poetry from on email.

A shaky thrill had rooted in Curt's guts the moment he'd seen the name. Now, two hours later, even though he'd been unable to shake the rush, he'd yet to press the 'confirm' or 'deny' button beside it.

On one hand it was kind of spooky. He had no idea who this guy was or how he'd got hold of his email address. There were ways, of course - trails to follow, clues to pick apart if you knew what you were looking for. Curt was no stranger to the magic of Google. At the same time, because of his IT background, Curt knew exactly how to muddle those paths up. He didn't leave a lot of bread crumbs behind for any hungry vultures in waiting. And this guy, this whoever it was, had now found his IM I.D. as well.

But… on the other hand, it was exciting! A new game - a game that was proving itself to be all kinds of fun. Not to mention the fact that the poems were intensely romantic, suggestive, and even slightly erotic. Someone, somewhere, for whatever reason thought he was interesting. Sexy even. Maybe.

Curt lifted his hand to the mouse. His fingers shook as he scrolled to the selection and clicked. A chat line opened. He paused for the program to adjust... and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the green light. Secretangel1987 'online'.

So he typed.

"Who are you?"

* * *

"I'm sorry," Jason yawned. "I slept like shit last night I guess." He rubbed at his drooping eyes and looked over at Curt again. "So you were up until when?"

Curt grinned and bit into his sandwich. "It was after three when I finally logged off!"

Jason squinted at him. "Seriously, Curt, you look like a high school girl after a first kiss. Ease up on the euphoria. It's nauseating." He stared down at the open container of food in front of him. "What could you possibly have had to talk about for over seven hours?"

Curt brushed crumbs off his palms and looked interestedly into Jason's otherwise ignored dish. "You gonna eat that?" When Jason shook his head and shoved the container towards him, Curt dug into it with gusto. "God," he continued around the food in his mouth, "I don't even know what we talked about. Everything! You'd like him I think. He's a computer guy, like us. Likes dogs, bike-riding, volleyball. Oh, hey - and guess what? He's knows that band you like, Mortally Wounded. Says he knows the drummer or some damn thing."

He looked up and frowned at Jason's cock-eyed expression. "What?"

"Nothing," Jason sighed, slumping further into his chair. "Just tired. So you know who he is yet?"

Curt shook his head. "No. He won't tell me. He says the whole point of being a secret angel is to be secret. I think it's kind of a game, you know? To see if I can figure it out?" Curt scraped the fork along the sides of the container and licked the remaining sauce off the utensil. "Dude," he scoffed when he looked up and saw Jason staring at him. "Seriously, get some sleep. You're totally miserable today!"

Jason reached out and grabbed the fork out of Curt's hand. "I am not. I just don't appreciate you laving my silverware with that filthy mouth of yours."

"Buddy," Curt grinned. "You're just mad you're straight."

* * *

"So what happened when you offered to send a picture?" Jason shielded his eyes from the sun as they sat on the divider between the parking lot and the grass that marked the yard of the office building.

"He said he didn't need one," Curt smirked. "So, see? I was right! It's someone I know!"

"Not necessarily," Jason said. "Could be a stalker. Maybe he's already been snapping his own set of photos while lurking in the bushes outside your apartment."

Curt rolled his eyes and passed his friend the last half of the chocolate bar that was doing its best to melt away between his fingers. "Want this?"

Jason pinched the candy between his fingers and deposited the entire mess in his mouth. "Dude," Curt groaned, "Gross!"

Jason snorted around caramel and fudge. "Ya, right. What I put in my mouth is gross." He grinned at Curt's eye roll, force swallowing the confectionary lump down his throat. "So this is what, like three weeks you've been talking now?"

Curt sighed and leaned back, tilting his head up to the sun. "Mm hmm."

* * *

Curt laughed out loud at the monitor. The poems still came, every time. But it was the chat that kept his interest. The guy was hilarious! And they had so much in common it made him wonder if he hadn't actually split into two people and was talking to himself on the other side of the cable.

"Okay," he typed back, "very funny. I mean seriously funny. Dude, I could totally see you doing that." The chat died off for a minute and Curt took the time to worry at his bottom lip with his teeth and glance at the clock. It was almost two in the morning and only Wednesday. If he was going to do this, it had to be now.

His fingers flew over the keyboard before he could change his mind. "I have to ask you something SA. I know I've asked it before and you've danced around it, but no more dancing. I need to know you. I want to meet you."

"Never mind that," the reply came. "You would just end up disappointed."

Curt clicked his tongue in frustration. "Stop the games," he typed. "Why won't you tell me who you are?"

He waited for the icon to start flashing and acknowledge the other man was typing. It took a long time. The answer was short and quick. "You wouldn't be impressed."

So was his reply. "You don't need to impress me any more than you already have."

Further comment didn't come. Curt waited for it, watched numbers change on the clock, verified said numbers against the monitor display. At 2:04 the 'online' icon switched to white. Secretangel1987 had gone offline.

* * *

"Just let it go," Jason urged after popping his head over the divider. "Come on, we'll go for drinks after work or something. You'll feel better."

Curt had his head on his desk, ignoring the blinking phone beside him. "I will never feel better again. Ever."

"You didn't even know this guy! Come on! Sit up before you get fired!" There was an edge of panic to Jason's voice. It forced Curt's head up long enough for him to confirm there wasn't actually someone in authority standing near them.

"You don't get it," he said. "I liked him. I really liked him." Curt turned his head. He was about one second away from blinking back tears and that was just a little too much to share with a co-worker. Even one he'd known for almost four years. The folded calendar he came face to face with was almost enough to break him though. "Six days, Jason!" he said woefully. "It's been six days and I haven't heard a single thing from him! He hasn't been online. He doesn't respond to emails." Again Curt turned back towards his friend, his head hitting the desk with a thunk. "I should never have tried to force the issue."

Jason huffed, looked around, and then hurried into Curt's work space. "Stop." He grabbed Curt by the shoulders, pulling him off the desk, shaking him firmly. "Just stop. Let this go. It was nothing and now it's over. Go find something real."

Curt turned away and stared at the monitor. Three calls had been rerouted already. His supervisor would be out to find out what was wrong soon. "Leave me alone, Jason," he mumbled. "Before you get in trouble too."

* * *

Curt waited for Friday to end with the same nervous resignation as a man waiting on death row. He so desperately wanted the week to be over, just so he wouldn't have to drag himself around anymore. At least at home he could flop onto the couch and flip through television stations. At the same time, he dreaded the thought of sitting at home, with nothing to do but flip through stations. The computer was off limits. As the days went by and nothing new from SA had come, Curt had cut himself off from all things internet related. And he was way too grumpy to hang out with friends. Of course, Jason continued his attempts at trying to goad Curt into cheering up. He had to give the man an 'A' for effort at least.

The elevator beeped and as they stepped out, Curt hissed through his teeth. "Damn!"

Jason looked back. "What's up?"

"Two minutes!" Curt called and turned back for the elevator. "I forgot my cell phone."

* * *

"Hey, Bella!" Curt said amicably to the cheerful cleaning lady who was already emptying waste baskets in the office. "Just got to grab my cell."

Bella chuckled and waved her hand at him. "You kids and your phones!" she said around a thick accent. "As if you can't live without them. You know back in my day..."

Curt let her go off, ignoring what she was saying. She was a nice lady. And knowing the mood he was in, if he listened too close she'd probably end up say something that would get him pissy. She didn't deserve that.

He scooped his phone off his chaotic desk, made a mental note to tidy it up on Monday, and stepped down the walk way to return to the elevator. The black and white notebook on Jason's desk stopped him. After all, Jason guarded that notebook like it was a sickly infant. There's no way he'd want it left there over the weekend.

Curt grabbed the book off Jason's desk and tucked it under his arm. It made Curt chuckle every time, watching the crazy dude scribbling or doodling away in it, yet steadfastly refusing to let anyone see it. One of those crazy artists' things Curt had always figured. A grin came over his face when he realised the pages between the familiar cover were now unprotected.

After a quick glance around, he opened the notebook.

* * *

The look on Jason's face said it all. When Curt stepped out of the elevator and came face to face with Jason, he knew he felt livid. He could feel the blood in his cheeks and pounding in his temple. But the shocked expression that popped up on Jason's face removed all doubt that Curt looked as pissed as he felt.

"You," he growled at Jason, holding out the notebook. "You!"

Jason's eyes grew wide. "I can explain."

"You fuck!" Curt's voice echoed through the tiled entrance of the office building. Faces turned, necks swivelled. Interested stares burned holes in Curt's back.

Jason held up his hands. "It's not what you think."

"The poems!" Curt pulled his arm back and whipped the notebook at Jason, full force. "It was you!" Jason threw up his arm to block his face and the notebook hit his forearm square before falling to the floor like a shot bird.

"I should have known," Curt curled both hands into his fist. He was shaking so badly his words bounced. "Who else would have had my email address? My IM information? Who else would have known all that shit about me?"

Jason reached down for his notebook, rescuing the pages of poetry from their fall.

"How could you?" Curt's voice caught on the last word. "Was it some kind of game to you? You knew! You knew how much I liked him... you... whoever it was!" His throat closed up, he struggled for composure. "Well nice work, dick. Hope you enjoyed your little game of make fun of the fag from the office. I hope you all had a nice little laugh over it."

"Curt," Jason started, reaching out almost blindly.

"Don't!" Curt screamed, slamming himself out of reach. "Don't touch me! Don't call me, don't email me, don't talk to me! Don't sit with me at lunch, don't ride the bus with me, don't even play in the same game as me!" Tears were way to close to the surface for Curt to say anymore. He slammed past his former friend and co-workers and tore out of the front doors of the building.

* * *

"Please!" Jason cried when Curt tried to slam the door to his apartment. "Just five minutes! Let me explain!"

Curt peeked through the four inch space he allowed between door and frame, a look of fury on his face. "Explain?! You can explain why you made a fool of me? Tromped all over my heart? Why you destroyed me?"

"I didn't mean to!" Jason shoved his foot in the door jamb and leaned against the door. "Please let me in. Please let me talk."

"No!" Curt pressed his weight against the door, blocking the other man's entry. "Go away!"

Jason leaned his head back and sighed. He took a deep breath. Then he pushed with everything he had. The door swung in, Jason fell forward, and Curt found himself falling. With wide eyes, Curt landed on his ass on the apartment floor. Jason shoved inside and closed the door behind him, snapping the lock closed. "Five minutes, buddy. Please." He reached out and offered his hand.

Curt turned his head away, embarrassed by the heat of tears pricking at his eyes. Now he had a sore ass to top off his wounded pride. Fabulous.

When it was apparent the refusal of Jason's hand would be a long-lived one, Jason sat down on the floor beside him. "I'm sorry."

Curt kept his head turned. "Why? Why did you do it?"

Jason shook his head. "I don't... I mean... I've just been so fucked up lately. My mind..." he lifted a hand and dragged it across his face. "I've never done this before. I don't... I didn't... know where to start... how to say what I wanted to say. And the longer I took to say it, the harder it got."

Curt stared at him blankly. "Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?"

Jason's voice was so low that Curt barely heard him. "I like you."

Curt snorted. "Well, nothing says friendship like destroying all trust and wreaking emotional havoc. Thanks!"

Jason shook his head. "No, I mean I've liked you for a while now."

"Of course you have, moron!" Curt frowned. "We've been friends for four fucking years. You sit beside me every day. I've even had to listen to your god-awful karaoke. How does that end in you wanting to make me look like a fucking idiot?"

"Damn, it Curt. You're not listening!" Jason hissed, his eyes on the floor. "I mean, I like you, like you. Like... I've been thinking about you in ways that I've never thought about thinking about another guy before."

Curt tilted his head. "As in, hey that guy is a really close, personal friend to me and I've never been that close emotionally with a guy before?"

Jason looked up, caught his eyes, held them. "As in, hey, I think I might like to get to know him better."

Curt's eyes widened. "As in, find out where he goes grocery shopping?"

Jason bit his lip, but continued to hold Curt's gaze. "As in, find out what he looks like naked."

"But... dude!" Curt's eyes could not have gotten wider if they'd tried. "You're straight!"

Jason threw his hands in the air, "I know!"

Jason paused, collected his thoughts, and then reached behind him to pull his notebook out. He set it on Curt's lap. "But try telling that to these."

Curt picked up the book and looked at Jason with confusion. "I don't understand..."

"All you," Jason said. "Right from the beginning to the end. You can read it if you want. Kind of starts off funny, gets a little weird, a lot of confusion and angst, before it all turns into the sick, romantic stuff I was emailing to you."

Curt looked at the notebook, his head shaking no without even being aware of it. "You're lying."

"I'm not." Jason shifted nervously, then reached up and touched Curt's cheek. Before Curt had the chance to say anything, Jason leaned in and kissed him. It was awkward, it was clumsy, but Curt had to admit, it wasn't all bad.

However, fascinating as the kiss was, it didn't make Curt any less annoyed. It wasn't his fault that Jason had been struggling with his conscience. It wasn't his problem that the door to Jason's closet had turned out to be a little sticky and hard to force open. Yet Curt was the one whose heart had been figuratively bleeding all over the goddamn floor. He was the one who'd ended up suffering.

"Prove it," Curt said, his voice cold, his forehead pinched into a frown.

Jason looked up quickly, a blush darkening his cheeks. "Wh-what?"

Curt almost softened his voice. "Prove it," he repeated. "Then I'll forgive you."

With flaming cheeks Jason studied the floor. He didn't make eye contact when he said, "I think you should know that you're kind of a jerk."

Curt huffed. "And you should know that you kind of deserve it."

He half-expected Jason to get pissed off; had expected no less than a rebuke and a change of subject. But Jason surprised the hell out of him by reaching for his face again. He cupped Curt's cheek, brushed his fingers over Curt's ear and neck. Then he hesitantly trailed fingers and palm down Curt's bare chest.

Curt tried to stay tough, resolute. After all, this was payback. But as Jason's hand hit the waistband of Curt's pyjama pants, and Jason tilted his head to let his mouth once again claim Curt's, it was all Curt could do not to melt into the flooring. The way Jason's fingers trembled and faltered in uncertainty had Curt's attentions up almost instantly. And where their first kiss had felt uncomfortable and confused, this one was inquisitive, learning - this one felt real.

Curt wrapped his hand around the base of Jason's skull and pulled him down to the floor. Jason straightened his arms, halting the descent. A nervous, desperate look shone in his eyes.

"Don't stop," Curt pleaded softly.

Jason's lips set stoically, he snaked his fingers into the waistband of Curt's pants with such determination that it would have been funny if Curt had been less of a nice guy. As it was, it cracked a grin that made Jason blush even more than he was. Curt pulled their mouths together again.

The touch got bolder. Not just a squeeze and stroke, but a thumb over the tip of him, an inquisitive sweep of the tightening balls underneath, a fingernail drag over the sensitive skin where leg met hip.

Curt opened his eyes, watched the other man's flutter against his cheeks. Curt's gaze travelled down between them. Jason was hard as a rock, but held far away from Curt's body. Nervous tension stiffened Jason's limbs and spine. Curt couldn't help thinking that the poor man looked like he was mere seconds away from implosion or combustion.

Still, it took everything in Curt's power to reach for the other man's hand and stop his motion. Regardless of payback or deservedness or emotional abuse suffered, if this was ever expected to become something between them, it needed to be done right. "It's okay," Curt swallowed hard, "just stop. You don't have to do this."

"No," Jason didn't remove his hand. "I want to make you cum." He looked at Curt, embarrassed but insistent. "Let me, okay?"

"You're sure?" Curt asked.

Jason nodded.

Curt's fingers reached for Jason's pants. "Then not like this." Jason watched wide-eyed and slack-jawed as Curt undid the cloth and removed the hard dick trapped inside it. With a smirk Curt rolled on his side and pinned their bodies together. Hard flesh touched hard flesh and a low moan rolled out of Jason's throat. Curt reached for Jason's hand, reset it over both their cocks and then wrapped his own over top. "Like this," he whispered.

The look on Jason's face was enough to tease Curt's lips into another grin. Outright fascination, intensity - Jason pressed their hips together hard enough to bruise, squeezed their cocks hard enough to hurt, but the eroticism of experiencing the newness of it all through Jason's perspective made it awe-inspiring.

Jason's hand trembled so badly that Curt took the lead, directing their grip and setting the pace. And damn, Curt thought, it felt good! As hard as the floor was underneath them, as befuddled as the man was beside him, as emotional as the last several days had been, what they were doing felt good. Their bodies fit together as well as they had already realised that their minds did. Their breaths followed in tandem, as easy to balance as their chats had been. They felt right like this. Perfect friends, great chat-mates, even better lovers.

"Need this," Jason muttered against Curt's forehead.

"Mm hmm," Curt nodded.

"Want you," Jason added.

"Want you," Curt agreed.

"Ah...ah, ha," Jason struggled to say something that became lost in the feeling growing in their bodies.

Curt brushed his lips against Jason's parted ones. He felt every sound the man made, the panting, the soft moans, the curses. He swallowed them when they became gasps of held breath, and groans of warning. And when Jason stiffened, stilled and came between them, Curt tasted the strangled cry that was tossed from Jason's throat as well.

His body still twitching against Curt's, Jason released his own cock and gave all his attentions to Curt's still hard dick. With a slick, warm fist Jason stroked furiously. Curt laid his head back and concentrated on nothing else but the feel of the man beside him. The tension growing in his core culminated. His belly coiled, his balls tensed, and his body pressed against Jason's softening one, spilling release on top of the one already cooling on their skin.

Curt looked up and grinned at the concern on Jason's face. "What?"

Jason flushed. "Was... okay?"

Curt laughed and shook his head. "Dude!"

Jason shrugged. "Sorry. I just... you know..."

Curt leaned his forehead against Jason's and stared into the other man's eyes. "I'll tell you this much. I'm certainly not disappointed." Jason's frown relaxed and Curt grinned. "But I am most certainly impressed."

The End

Copyright © 2011 AF Henley

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