“Excellent. Given your PT background, I think we can bump up your salary a couple extra dollars. I’m assuming that’s okay with you,” he says with a smile.
I shake his hand and just barely keep the tears out of my eyes. Jean-Pierre Sehene ruffles my hair with his enormous paw, and Nick is… statuesque. Whatever. I got the job, and Jean-Pierre Sehene is going to train me with his good buddy Scout Martinez, who I hope is nicer than her ass of a brother. Keto Spice can keep on sucking lemons for all I care.
* * *
Nick
Jesus, this kid is damaging my sense of calm. He’s too skinny, his eyes are too big, and what the hell was he wearing? What he wore made no sense, even though it did look nice on him. Who wears a blazer and busted-up kicks to an interview at a gym?Someone a decade younger than you, that’s who.
His light brown hair was unkempt, though I’m a little annoyed that it only upped the appeal. Either way, those brilliant ice-blue eyes against his pale, freckled skin could probably be used against me to give up state secrets, and that thin little body of his would fit right up against mine. He’s slightly malnourished, probably due to a Top Ramen budget, but we’ll fix that pretty quickly. I make a note to put some peanut butter snacks in the kitchen.
I’m still thinking about him as I make my way up to my apartment, accessible as a walk-up outside of the gym. I sit on my bed to unlock and remove my prosthetic, then roll down the silicone sleeve, prosthetic sock, and silicone liner that keep everything in place. Thank fuck it’s not summer anymore; keeping my skin happy is a full-time job in hundred-degree weather. Even though it’s a pain in the ass, I like that I can use the same sleeve setup with either a foot or a blade and can switch between the two with relative ease. Having a famous, multimillionaire sister means that I’m in a state-of-the-art device most servicemembers won’t ever have access to. So, I try not to complain too much as I rub a hand over the aching muscles and the skin reddened by the limb-suctioning device. I grab my shower brace, remove my sweaty clothes, and jump in the hot shower, letting the water pound down on me. I soap myself up, and as I go to clean my wedding tackle, I figure it’s the perfect opportunity to attend to some of the sexual frustration from earlier in the day. I sit on the cold tile bench built into my shower and take myself in hand. The first thing to fill my mind are Elijah’s beautiful pale blue eyes; those would be looking up right at me. Next, I think about that mouth of his. His lips are a pale rose, and just full enough that they’d be beautiful stretched around my cock as I come into his mouth.
Doesn’t take long for me to feel my balls tighten up, and the visual that sends me over the edge is the one of his adorable ass in the air, ready and begging for me. I pick up speed, twisting right under the head of my cock, using the soap bubbles as lube. I come on the thought of pushing past the ring of muscle, claiming him, watching my cum drip out of that tight little hole of his.
So yeah, not exactly thrilled he’s the one Roly chose, and I know it’s my guilt that’s letting him make that decision.
Chapter Three
Nick
To be honest, I’m a little relieved that the kid is late. I know I gave him a hard time yesterday, and while I don’t mind if Roly fucks around with a willing client or volunteer, employees are absolutely off-limits to both of us, and that kid would test me. I’d have to figure out how to maintain my blood pressure around that smart mouth of his, not to mention those piercing blue eyes, which hold a vulnerability that pings the protector instinct in me, a vulnerability I’d be honor-bound to ferret out and fix if I were to spend any more time with him. I’m not proud of the fact that I know exactly which weight bench is at the perfect height to bend him over and put that cute ass right where I want it.
So, yeah, firing him for being late on the first day is best for all involved.
* * *
Elijah
I smoked the weed I’d copped from my buddy Baby Paris, a trans sex worker with a side business as a meth dealer. She’s been a good friend these past few months, and I hope that soon I’ll never see her again. The weed was supposed to help me get some sleep, but it only kinda worked. At least I was up on time. I think Nick and Roly are equal owners of the shop, but Nick seems so particular (not to mentionedthrilledat the prospect of me working there), I figured I should just try and show up ten to fifteen minutes early so as not to piss him off.
I get up, grab my bag from under my pillow, where I keep it so people don’t steal my things, wash up in the communal bathroom, which, while fixed, was a horror show that I don’t really care to go into, and then head outside.
It’s about 4:30 a.m. I need to be there at 5:00, and it’ll take me less than fifteen minutes to walk there, so I’m feeling pretty good… until I start working my way down the street and realize that an enormous accident between an eighteen-wheeler and a highway support beam is blocking the entrance to Seventh. Fuck. Red River is also closed, along with the access road. I have to go south to Cesar Chavez, cross the highway there, and continue up several blocks, then back north to Seventh, and finally back down Seventh to the shop. I jog nearly the entire way but don’t walk in the door until 5:04.
“Don’t bother.” Nick is on one of the weight machines, his muscles beaded with sweat. He doesn’t even stop his set to look at me. Hot, sweaty asshole.
“Are you not aware that there is a dangerous materials spill about three blocks from here, and that everything in a mile radius around it is shut down?”
“People who aren’t serious about their duties find excuses. People who are serious find a way.” He still hasn’t stopped working his arms, and that bothers me more than anything else. What kind of asshole doesn’t even face the person he’s firing when he’s firing him?
Dammit, I really need this job. I mean, is it too much to ask for a little fucking hope?
“What’s going on here?” Roly asks, walking in with a bright smile on his face. “Elijah! Nice to see you this morning.”
“Not really. Four minutes late on the first day.”
Roly’s eyebrows pinch in a frustrated expression. “Elijah, I thought that you were really serious about this job.”
“I am. I live literally like four or five blocks away and would normally be here early, but there’s a huge hazardous spill and…”
“Oh my god, did you get caught in that? That was awful!”
“Yes, it was. The smell was really terrible. But I don’t have a car, so I was walking in, and I had to go, like, two miles out of the way.” I wipe the sweat off my forehead to emphasize the effort I’d put in. “I jogged and got here as quickly as possible, but I guess that’s not good enough for Some People.”
That got his attention. I really should watch my mouth around him.
Nick finally stops his incessant arm curls and looks up at me. His lips flatten into their all-too-familiar purse of disdain. “So, just because I want you to arrive at your job on time means, what, I’m an asshole?”
