Date: Sun, 24 Jun 2001 14:46:11 -0000
From: stokeheights@hotmail.com
Subject: Working Early

Working Early
A Short Story by Wharfy -- stokeheights@hotmail.com

I loved being in the office before anyone else. Not because I could get more
work done, not even because it would look good to the boss. Walking that
long walk through the darker zones of East London, the aftermath of late
opening bars and smouldering cars. The only boy in jeans and a T, shoulder
to shoulder with thousands of commuters arriving at London's Liverpool St,
heading for various Banks along the mile. When I arrived each morning, at
eight in the morning, our little glass cube office was a haven of
tranquillity. Raised up above the swarms in the street, the fumes, the
trains, the coffee brigade, I could swivel back into my desk chair, smell
the leather and stare out with my feet up on the window sill. It was my
promotional gift- the seat next to the glass wall. Perfectly placed to
survey the rest of the army from my little corner of the empire.

It's a kind of funky company, run by young Dot Com kids. People work hard,
but play hard too- rarely does anyone leave the complex before seven and the
bar before midnight. Being the only Gay guy here didn't matter so much as
elsewhere, nobody was traditional or old school enough to care. Infact, it
gave me the extra `edge' I needed to land the job, designing web sites for
lifestyle brands. Of course I was no better at it than the next guy, but my
occasional camp side brought out the best in presentations with no real
logic besides the ambiguous rules of marketing fluff.
To be honest, for the first few weeks, I hadn't thought about it at all. The
guys would use me as a sounding board- "Why does my Girlfriend think this
....?" And the girls would use me as a mirror "Does this shirt make me look
too flirty ....?" In many ways, I was the neutral ground, the one they all
trusted and showed off like a new pet to their investment banking mates in
the club. Work was the one place, I felt comfortable and could prove myself
without compromise.

But one morning the regular clockwork of my morning shifted. I got out the
life as usual, balancing my drink using my elbow while I fought to open the
iron gate across the lift-shaft, strolled down the corridor, and fumbled for
the office key at the door. Twisting the key into the lock, I nearly fell
through as the door swung freely open. Stumbling forward, spilling the
coffee on my arm as I did so, I almost landed on a guy kneeling over the
front desk. "Hi, sorry mate, didn't expect anyone to be in." I said,
wondering if he was one of the landlords staff or a cleaner (after all, he
only had a loose fitting white shirt and blue jeans on). "Oh hi, sorry,
didn't mean to scare you, I didn't know what time people started around
here. Thought I better make an effort and all." He had a voice that didn't
quite fit with his boyish face, deep, strong, reassuring.

Over the next half an hour or so, him sitting like a client on the sofa
while I booted up my machine, I learnt that his name was James and he had
joined the company for a month to learn the ropes of the design side, before
joining the parent company in New York to work with their new projects. All
the time he talked I could sense a sort of newbie anxiety, very unlike the
usual guys that worked there, where you were expected to be boisterous and
cock-sure as part of the company approach. Although his words didn't echo
it, his face looked lost, big brown eyes and raised eyebrows, pulling
together as he spoke. I tried not to look straight at him, casually
responding to emails as he explained his story. "Fuck, I can never get this
thing to open attachments." I moaned as the machine ground to a halt as it
always did. "Mind if I have a go ?" He stood up from the sofa, came and
leant across me to the keyboard. In a few twitches of the mouse there was my
image, a badly focused shot of my mates on holiday, me in the middle, beer
in my hand and shorts half way down my legs. "Shit, sorry, didn't know
that's what they were sending me, sorry, we were so pissed that night." I
tried to close it down, knocking over my empty coffee cup, James behind me,
chuckling as I pressed every button, none of which altered the image on the
screen. "Don't worry mate, you should see the ones of my holiday, the
bastards took a whole film of me in bed with sunglasses on and not a lot
else." I couldn't help thinking how much I would like to see that and
grinned a little.

James wasn't pumped up, like the sales team who spent the mornings in the
company sponsored fitness room, but he was toned. Even through his shirt you
could tell he had a nice shape, rippled a little, with a hint of fair hair
tufting out around his undone collar. "Would you mind closing it down for
me, the guys will have a field day if they see this. Delete it or whatever."
I said, moving my chair around so he could get better access to the
computer. "Sure mate, no problem. But I wont delete it, it's a cool photo.
You should be proud of it, look at that tan line, very `in'." It was the way
he looked at me, leaning forward over my leg, half a grin curling his lips
on one side, his chin showing the slightest little dimple. I don't know why
I did it, I had never acted in this way in my life, but as he leant across,
putting his face down to the level of the monitor, I reached out and touched
his shoulder. Using him to pull myself up, I lost my confidence and jestured
that he could have the chair. He pulled it towards him and sat down, closing
down applications and opening folders. "Hey, come on, I'll show you how to
do it... don't want you having to delete everything you receive in the future
mate. Can you see ok?" I kneeled down one arm on his leg and watched him
drag the image into the right area, rename it and remove it from the
screen." He asked if I understood how to do it now, I nodded and he got up
out of the chair. We both stood up at the same time and I turned to sit
again, brushing against him, his leg still in the way of mine, he stopped
me, took my hand and just stood there. "You know we have met before don't
you ?" He whispered, my hand in his, nearly falling onto the desk. "No, what
do you mean ?" I said, looking down at our hands, held almost like you would
shake with a client when brokering a deal. "In Chelsea, months ago. I was at
the table next to you, you were with the guys in that photo you just showed
me. I didn't have the right change at the bar and you paid for my drink." It
was true, I did remember, I had even pointed him out to my best mate sat
next to me. I hadn't had the guts to talk to him, didn't even know if he was
Gay (he was drinking with a women if I remember right). "I wanted to thank
you then, but you left. Here..." He gently leaned across and kissed my cheek.
I was stunned, didn't move an inch. This guy, who I wouldn't have had the
confidence to even look at in a bar, was standing at my desk, holding my
hand, kissing me. He put his other hand around the back of my neck and
kissed me again, pulling me in a little towards him. We stood there, his
slightly stubbled chin rubbing against mine, mouths slightly open, kissing
each other for a good five minutes. Our hands didn't move. I could smell his
fresh citrus and wood aftershave and felt his leg gently rubbing against
mine. "Hey, we cant do this here." I looked at the clock, it was five to
nine, any minute we would be the centre of attention. He followed me up to
the floor above, where a fire escape led to an area of roof- I often came
here to smoke when I needed some time away from the screen. Standing there,
he held me again and kissed me. "Is this ok ?" He said. "Can I keep you ?" I
said, sounding as stupid as the thought was in my head. Immediately I
laughed at the words I had spoken and James laughed with me. "You can keep
me for now." He said and leant in to kiss me again. Totally unreal, like a
scene from a movie. I could feel my dick getting hard in my jeans, knowing
his hand was there on my leg, so close to touching it. I pulled his hand in,
and cupped him around the tenting jeans. He made a slight low growl into my
mouth, grinning a little with his lips still on mine. He undid his shirt,
and started to undo mine. I was so hot, I thought I was going to cum in my
shorts, as he managed to undo buttons with one hand still rubbing up and
down my cloth covered cock. All the time his eyes buried deep into me- I
think I would have jumped off the roof with him at that moment, if he had
asked me to. Suddenly, he had my belt off and was slipping one hand into the
top of my boxers. I leaned back a little so he could pull my already hard
dick out over the top of my Calvins. On one knee, he gently, very slowly
licked my cock from head to base, over the top, across the back, around the
tip, then, looking up at me, as if for permission, he took the whole head
in, closed his lips and tongue around it and closed his eyes. Achingly
slowly he pushed his head up towards me, taking the shaft in and out of his
mouth, almost purring as he did it. I held onto the back of his head and
gasped a little. Each time he reached the base, he would breathe, hot warm
breath on my public hair. It didn't take long, I felt the pressure building
up and grasped at his hair. He seemed to grin even more, with his lips still
around my dick. His tongue pushed up under the cock head just as I let it
go, streaming cum into his mouth. When I was done, he slowly withdrew,
cleaning everything from my cock head and swallowing every bit, but a little
trickle from the side of his mouth. He stood up and kissed me, before
undoing his jeans and quickly pumping himself off. I offered to do it for
him, but he just grinned and said "Rest." He shot over the side of the
building, arching his back as he did it. Not a blemish on him. My new god.
My boy. With his hand still on his dick, balancing on the edge of the roof,
he turned to me, eyebrows arching in again, "You know, I think, If you wanna
keep me, you can." I laughed and stood up, offering him a hand and his
shirt. "Done deal.Er... Fuck knows how that happened. Sorry, cool! "

When we finally walked back into the office, my boss was there, with a
couple of the guys from sales. He walked straight up, offering his hand out
to James. "Chris, I see you have met your new assistant. Comes with flying
colours from Kings College. With us for a month then he's off across the
water. Treat him like your own till then. See you both at lunch."

We were together for exactly a month. James came down with the guys from
work each night to the bar- every bit one of them, one of us. Not a soul was
told, although I suspect some of my closer friends know, if only from the
grin on my face and the fact James was always in the office before everyone
else, just as I was. He stayed with me in my flat for the last two weeks
before he left London. The very last night, we went up to the roof and we
kissed for hours. "Still want to keep me ?" He said, holding me, the city
below and behind as, his future thousands of miles infront of him. "More
than anything in the world. James, I need you to be here." I began to swell
up, nobody made me feel as real, complete and strong as he did. "I'll send
for you." -- he left me there, standing in the cold, half of my heart on
fire. The next morning he was gone and I went to work alone. Head down,
everything cold, feeling more alone than I ever had in my life.

The next month a one-way ticket came.