Prompt-story based upon words requested on August 3, 2009.
Dewey decimal system
And now the story:
It was dark outside. Darker than usual for eight o’clock on a mid-summer night. Probably a storm coming in, Dex decided, but he didn’t care enough to get up from his desk and go outside to check. In fact, if it really was a storm, he needed to get his ass, or at least his fingers, moving, damn it. He didn’t like having the computer on when it stormed, after all. Not after what had happened the last time.
” ‘The car was blue,’ ” he read aloud to the little stuffed penguin that lived on top of the monitor, his own words feeling clunky and wrong in his mouth. ” ‘The car was blue. Not the blue of a robin’s egg or even the blue of his mother’s china. No, Herman told himself, it was exactly the blue of Rudy’s eyes. He loved Rudy’s eyes.’ ”
Dex groaned, his own eyes — brown, not blue, and nothing special — rolling as he hit backspace, removing the offending words. “Jesus. This sucks.” It did, too. There was nothing quite like hating his own work. Even the little penguin, won from one of those stupid games at the arcade by the beach, seemed to be nodding its agreement. “But no… I had to try being a writer,” he grumbled, shaking his hands in the air, forcing blood to circulate in his cramped fingers. “I couldn’t be happy with my job at Merryvale Library, couldn’t stand all the people who didn’t give a shit about the books. So what did I do?”
Well, he’d quit, just so he could try writing for the same people who apparently hated books enough to treat them like garbage. “I should have just stuck with it,” he muttered, the sound of the ocean waves trying to soothe him, even from half a block away. “Even with having to explain the Dewey decimal system at least ten times a day, and patching the books up, and acting as unofficial babysitter for all the damned tourists who couldn’t be bothered with their own kids.” Regardless of the no unaccompanied children under the age of twelve sign, which Dex figured meant the parents either didn’t care, or couldn’t read themselves. It was a toss-up as to which it was, really.
But maybe he’d made a mistake, leaving the library. Sometimes he was sure of it. And not only that he’d made just any mistake, but a huge one. Gargantuan. He’d even considered going back, proverbial hat in hand, to beg old Mr. Stone for another chance. Hell, he’d almost done it, once or twice, and maybe… maybe he should have, except… he couldn’t. He had a story to tell, damn it, even if it wasn’t cooperating at the moment. And as frustrating as that was, it was still better than doing a job he’d stopped caring about.
He’d even started off strong with the book, managing close to ten pages a day. But Keith had gotten all nosy, constantly prodding and prying, wanting to see what Dex had written so far, and it had messed with his flow, damn it. Not even sending Keith away had helped, because… “Well, witness,” Dex sighed. “No Keith, and nothing worth keeping, damn it.” The penguin seemed to nod again, or maybe Dex just missed his lover.
The bright side was that Keith would be coming back eventually. Just like Dex had come back after Keith asked him to leave for almost a month, three years earlier. Dex had understood, because Keith needed to study for the bar exam and Dex hadn’t been able to help being a distraction.
So, Dex wasn’t worried about Keith coming back. They were good. Solid. Which didn’t keep Dex from feeling lonely, or even resentful that the solitude wasn’t helping.
Of course, the muttering to himself wasn’t helping either. Not at all, damn it.
The first tiny patter of rain on the roof had Dex frowning again, more deeply. A few more words left his fingers, but when the patter grew to a driving, pounding sound, he sighed and shut everything down. Another day lost, without even a single decent sentence to show for it. Christ.
* * *
He wasn’t expecting to wake up in the middle of the night, long after the brief but torrential downpour had ended, but Dex did.
He woke to silence broken only by soft moans that were coming from his own lips, his legs spread wide on the bed, Keith’s fingers already inside him, slick and warm. “Oh, God…” he managed, losing even those two short syllables when Keith’s fingers curled, pressed his prostate hard.
“Miss me?” Keith murmured, that small Southern drawl deeper after spending time with his parents. “Because I missed you, darlin’. Could hardly think of anything else, Dex. Then Dad told me they’d be spraying the fields with insecticides tomorrow and you know I can’t stand that, so…”
God, Dex didn’t care why Keith was home. Just that the man was, damn it. “Uh… uh-huh,” he grunted, knees bending to let his feet dig in to the bed, to lift himself, pushing into each slow thrust of fingers. And Keith was laughing, but Dex had missed that sound, so he didn’t care. Let Keith laugh. As long as that wasn’t all Keith did, Dex could definitely live with laughter.
Keith seemed to know it, too, even without coherent words being spoken, because that strong, lean body was pressing closer, and when Keith’s fingers pulled away, replaced with blunt, slick heat, Dex could still only moan.
“Oh, fuck yeah.” Groaned against his neck as Keith pressed deep, heavy sac slapping lightly at Dex’s skin just below where they were joined. “Fuck, yeah. Missed this part, too. Fucking tight, honey. Good.” It was, too. Good. Hot. Right. Perfect, even, after five years together and learning each others ways. It had taken time to get to that point, but fuck if they hadn’t made it. And right then…
Well, right then, after more than two weeks without Keith, perfect took on a whole new meaning.
Their lips met, Keith’s first careful thrust becoming another, and another, bodies sliding together like coming home was more than just a phrase. Tongues tangled, slid, tasted and remembered, and all the while Keith’s thick prick moved, piston-like motions growing from short and sweet to long and rough and hard, and Dex loved it. Begged for more with his fingers, digging deep into Keith’s arms; his legs, ankles locked around Keith’s back. With his entire body, he begged, silently pleading for more and yes and harder and now… and all the while their mouths stayed locked, feeding grunts and growls and groans to each other and back again.
A shift, small as it was, that pushed Dex higher, his spine bending easily from long practice, and Keith’s dick was right there where his fingers had been earlier, and that lean, muscled form was fucking him so good, so damned hard, like Keith was trying to fuse their bodies forever. And Dex was fine with that. Even more so when another subtle shift had his bobbing, dribbling cock rubbing Keith’s skin, the short hairs that led from Keith’s navel to the perfect flesh that was so deep inside Dex. It was enough. Too much. Plenty.
His cry was swallowed, Keith taking it in as Dex spilled roughly between them, viscous seed pouring from him to coat his own skin and Keith’s… and moments later, after another few thrusts, Keith fed that cry back to him, emptying himself into Dex’s body with a shaking arch, pressed deep, hard, filling Dex just fucking right.
“You okay, darlin’?” Keith murmured, still on him, still in him, and Dex had to laugh as he caught his breath.
“I’m probably as close to perfect as I’ve ever been, babe,” he answered, one hand rubbing lightly at Keith’s shoulder. “I didn’t get fuck-all done while you were gone, though.”
Keith chuckled against Dex’s throat and Dex shivered, just a little. “That’d be because I’m your inspiration, Dex-my-man. You just needed to figure it out for yourself.”
Well, duh. That wasn’t exactly a surprise, now that Dex thought about it. Even so, it wouldn’t do for Keith to go getting any more smug than he already was. “If you really want to inspire me, you’ll tell me you brought food home,” Dex muttered, but he couldn’t help the smile that was on his lips. “I’m really tired of those so-called ‘gyros’ from the Piggly Wiggly.”
Another laugh against his skin had Dex holding back a moan. “We’ve got us some fried chicken, collard greens, Momma’s potato salad — the kind you like with the shredded cheese and bacon in it… some fire-roasted corn on the cob and peach cobbler, all in the fridge. Brought it from home, honey,” Keith answered, finally pulling back to meet his eyes. Even in the limited light coming in from the living room, Dex could see the blue. Deep and rich. Cabochon sapphires, if mere gems could be imagined to hold so much feeling. “I could go heat some up, if you want. Can’t have you passing out on me before we even get around to a shower and blow jobs.”
Dex smiled and held Keith closer. “Maybe later, babe. You know… when we really need the energy. Which might even be morning, considering.” After all, they were just getting started and Dex really had missed his man. More than he’d known.