Used, Rare and Custom Jobs III: Tender Awarded

By Chris Owen

Dave was smiling at him, his hands in his jeans' back pocket, his eyes saying a lot of things right back at Des.

"Mr. Chase?"

"Oh! Yes, of course." Desmond blinked and turned from Dave to rid himself of the distraction. "Two o'clock would be fine. You have the address?" He closed the book and glanced around for the cloth he kept it in, but saw the sign hanging on the door instead. For some reason the light was hitting it all wrong for that time of day.

Dave was there. Dave should be at work.

The client said that of course he had the address and hung up, leaving Des with a dead phone at his ear, his hands full of a book he couldn't put down and a sneaking suspicion he'd worked over-time without intending to. "Dave?" he asked tentatively, frozen in place. "What time is it?"

"Five thirty-seven." Dave sounded amused, his voice as warm as clover honey. "Want me to close up for you?"

"If you would just flip the sign and lock the door, please." Des sighed and tried to aim the phone at his desk as he let it go. It landed with a clatter, the sound loud enough to make him wince. "God. Honestly, some people will go on for ages before getting to the point. I can't believe he took almost forty-five minutes of my day. He probably won't buy the damn thing, either."

Worse was the knowledge that he'd been on the phone for over forty minutes and there hadn't been any customers in the shop to interrupt him. True, the store was supposed to close at five Monday through Wednesday, but no customers meant no sales, which in turn meant he really had to hope the client did, in fact, buy the volume.

"Does that happen a lot?" Dave asked curiously. The bells over the door tinkled softly when Dave moved them, the sign catching their string as he turned it. The heavy deadbolt snicked into place and then Dave came around the desk and into Desmond's line of sight again.

He was really quite attractive, even with sawdust on his sleeve. Maybe especially because of the sawdust.

"Yes, unfortunately it does." Desmond shrugged one shoulder and finally saw the piece of cloth he'd been looking for. He tossed it into position on the table, and finally set the book down. "More often than I actually sell one of these. It's a little frustrating."

"I can imagine." Dave leaned over the desk, over the book, and kissed Desmond's mouth. "I'm sorry to hear it, though." He leaned back before Desmond had a chance to tell him to be careful of the book.

A quick glance showed him that none of the sawdust had fallen, and another glance showed him that Dave knew what he was looking for.

Dave didn't seem to mind, though, and gave Desmond a wink. "I was careful to keep my arm out of the way. I just really wanted to kiss you. Did you have a bad day?"

"Not really, no." Desmond wrapped the book carefully before he took off his gloves. He tossed them on the table and said, "But it's awfully good to see you."

"Does that mean I get more kisses?" Dave asked hopefully, looking almost like a small child. A potentially corrupt small child, of course, and an overgrown one at that. Des stopped that line of thought before it could get really started. It didn't bode well to start thinking of one's lovers in terms of naughty children.

Instead, he focused on the very grown up man and nodded. "Absolutely. The door is locked, the book is away, and yet, you're still over there." It was hard to maintain the somber thoughts of work when Dave was in the room. "Come here, please."

Dave grinned and came close. "You're getting very good with the 'please' these days." His big hands slipped around Desmond's waist and pulled him forward a step or two. "I appreciate it."

"It's second nature," Desmond lied. Well, it wasn't really a lie. It wasn't exactly second nature, however. It was one of those things that he was learning to do, and he was finding that it was easier than he had thought it would be. "I really am glad to see you."

"Prove it." Dave's grin grew into something a little more intense, and then he was kissing Des, hard. He tasted like coffee and candy. He smelled of wood, drywall dust, and varnish. Desmond was surprised that he could identify both the drywall and varnish, and a moment later he couldn't identify anything at all, as he was lost in the kiss.