Tales of the Geek Stable, Part VI

It was probably a shitty thing to do, but Milton waited until after picking up York to fill his gas tank. He knew how York felt about gas stations - going so far as selling his car and only going places he could get to on foot or bicycle. But he also knew that York would never get over Haydn's murder if he never confronted his demons. He could see York ball his hands into white-knuckled fists as he shut off the engine.

"It'll just be a minute. I don't want to run out of gas on the way out to the lake." Milton pulled out his wallet and used the pay at the pump feature and filled the tank. He watched his passenger carefully, but York never moved. Milton wasn't sure he was even breathing until he climbed back into the truck and started it up. "Ready?" 

York barely moved. If he hadn't been watching him closely, Milton would have missed the tiny nod. He put the truck in gear and headed out of town, letting York stew for a few miles in silence. His passenger still clenched his fists, but his jaw had relaxed a bit. That muscle wasn’t ticking as he ground his teeth anymore, at least.

“You know,” Milton said, his voice loud to his ears, after driving in silence. “You can’t keep going on like this.”

“Don’t.” York’s jaw was tightened again, and his knuckles were turning white again as he tried to control his anger.

“I’m just trying to help.”

“What do you know about it? Huh? Nothing. So just shut up.”

“I know Haydn wouldn’t want this for you.”

York’s fists slammed into the glove box. “Don’t say another word. You have no idea what I’m going through, so just shut the fuck up, all right?” He felt like shit for yelling at him, but York couldn’t bring himself to stop. “Just shut up about it.” He threw himself back against the seat and stared out the passenger window, hoping Milton would take the hint.

For a few more miles, Milton simply drove. York may hate him after this, but someone needed to shove him back into the living, instead of allowing him to wallow in grief. Two years was too much time lost to simply existing. He took a deep breath before speaking again. In the corner of his eye, he could see York tense.

“When my master got sick, I begged him to get me sick, too.”

York’s head whipped around to stare at Milton. In the year and half he’d been working with the man, that would have been the last thing he would have expected to ever hear from him.

“Well, I guess he was sick the whole time. He just didn’t show symptoms. That’s why he never fucked me.” Milton laughed, but there was no humor in it. He settled back in his seat, relaxing a bit, as if he wasn’t dropping the biggest bombshell York had ever heard. “I mean, why else would you take in a stupid fifteen-year-old drop-out runaway in and train him to be a good boy, but never fuck him?” He shook his head.

“Milton…” York couldn’t form any words. Milton was always quiet when they sat around, getting raucous, trading tales of getting tail. And he had never heard the big man cuss.

“When he wouldn’t do it, I tried get it myself. Tore up my fingertips and my knuckles trying to get into the biohazard box to get to his syringes. Got whipped for that one.”

“Milton, I-” York started, but Milton continued in that toneless way that was scaring him.

“Got the cage for a month when he found me drinking drain cleaner.” Milton laughed again. “He had tried to introduce some new masters. Ones to take his place. I fucking hated him for that. Screamed and clawed at the bars for hours. I sobbed, begging him to take me with him. To just let me end it so I could be with him when he went.”

“Jesus, Milton.”

“That was when he decided he needed to do something. I was all of seventeen, and completely finished with life. Trying to cash it in because the man I loved was going to die. And he knew that I would do it if he tried to give me to someone else.”

York twisted in his seat and pulled one knee up to lean against the door. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Milton snorted. “Tell you what? The big, dumb hick was a worthless slave boy his master couldn’t bring himself to fuck? A fucking virgin slave boy. Can you believe that shit? Nah, you guys already think I’m a dumbass loser. Why prove it?”

“We don’t-”

“Save it, York. I know what you think. It’s in the way you guys act. The way you guys talk. Or don’t, actually. How y’all shut up when I walk in.”

“I’m sorry, Milton. We just thought….” York didn’t know how to finish his sentence. “You know what? I don’t think we ever really thought about you like that. You’re always so quiet, we just figured you were a sheltered country boy who didn’t know anything about what we were talking about.”

“Figured that much. Haven’t been sheltered in a long time. Hard to come out on a farm and keep the peace.”

“What? You mean….” York waited, but Milton didn’t say anything. “They kicked you out because you came out?”

“No, they kicked my ass because I came out. Then they kicked it again, and again. Figured they could beat the gay out.” He looked over at York and smiled. It was one of the coldest smiles he’d ever seen, and coming from the sweet country boy, it was bone-chilling. “They never could have figured I liked it. Almost came in my pants every time.”

York just stared at him. He tried to reconcile the man next to him with the images his story presented. This huge, innocent looking man-child, beaten bloody by his so-called friends and family. Or locked in a cage, crying. He started to shake with fury, wanting to do anything to make things better, to fix anything he could.

Milton shook his head and continued. “That was until they damn near killed me. If the branch hadn’t broke, I’da been a goner. I figured it was time to get the hell out of there.” He shrugged one huge shoulder. “Master Drake found me a couple of days later, still bruised and bloody. He brought me to his house, gave me food, clothes. A shower. Fuck, that shower felt good.” He chuckled a little and smiled remembering it.

“I can’t believe you never said anything.”

“What’s to say? ‘Hi, I’m a masochistic high school drop out with a dead master who never wanted to fuck me?’ No, that’s not something you just say. And no one ever asked. Just formed opinions based on my look. Figured it was better to just shut up and let you believe whatever you were going to.”

York couldn’t argue with that reasoning. He couldn’t remember any of the team ever asking Milton about his past. They knew he’d gotten out of school just before coming to work with them, but he looked so young and, hell, innocent was the only way to describe him. A fresh off the farm fresh-out. No way he could understand all their ways.

“Wait, you said you’re a drop out?” Milton nodded. “But you were a fresh-out when you came to us. How’d you get into school?”

“Master Drake set it up. After the poisoning incident, he knew he had to do something. I was going to do whatever it took to get myself killed. He wouldn’t allow that. While I cooled off in the cage, he set up tutors and classes for my G.E.D., then started working his connections to get me into computer classes.”

“Why did you go? If you were so set on dying, I mean.”

“Truth? He ordered me, so I went. And he ordered me to do well, so I did.” This time, there was humor in Milton’s laugh, and York joined him.

“That’s all it took? He ordered you?”

“Yep. It never occurred to me to disobey him.” Milton’s smile faded. “I went to class, did well, started living like a normal person. He started getting worse, and he prepared me for it. Finances, cooking, my classes. When he died, he planned to leave me everything, but I wanted to do something to help other runaways like me, to keep them from getting killed on the streets. He put the money into some kind of trust and the house is some kind of shelter now. I don’t know a lot about it. Not the specifics or anything. I just know they exist. Someone’s taking care of it.” He shrugged again.

“Jesus, Milton. We never even knew.”

“Ain’t no thing. We work, we live, we go on. That’s about all you can do.”

“Is that why you’re telling me all this now? I’m supposed to just go on? Like nothing happened?”

“No. Not like nothing happened. Shit happened.”

“So what do I do now?” York asked quietly, really wanting an answer.

“Would it help if I ordered you to snap out of it?”

“Probably not.”

“Figured as much. Slave boy and all. Don’t have much weight behind my orders. How about just asking that you try? I never met Haydn, but I know he would be disappointed in you. He’d want you out there. Living. Not just breathing.”

“I know,” he whispered, eyes burning. “I know.”

“I know it’s easier said than done, but if you do nothing, it won’t ever get better. You’re more than the tragedies you’ve faced. You’ve got to stop defining yourself that way. It happened. You can’t change it. You can’t fix it. All you can do is live with it. ‘Cause the alternative sucks. And trust me on this – drain cleaner tastes like shit.”

York laughed. “I’ll take your word on that one.”

They pulled into the campsite, and Milton parked next to Ogilvie’s Jeep. Milton started to get out, but York stopped him. He turned, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Thanks, Milton. And sorry we never asked.”

“’Welcome.  Now, let’s go have some fun.” He smiled, and he looked like such a school boy, York couldn’t help but laugh. When he got out of the truck, Milton shocked York once again by stripping down and leaving his clothes in a pile next to the truck, a huge, mischievous grin across his face. “Race ya’!”

“What are you doing?” York yelled at Milton’s broad back as he took off running, bare ass almost glowing in the twilight.

“Last one in’s a rotten egg!” Milton shouted as he raced past the campfire Ogilvie had started.

“What the hell was that?” he asked as York dropped one of the empty chairs set around the fire. They heard a splash in the distance, then a surprised shout.

“That was one complicated man.”

“Huh?” Ogilvie looked at York, the confusion clear on his face.

“Nevermind.” York stood and started laughing, feeling lighter and more free than he had in months. “Nevermind, man,” he repeated, dropping the last of his clothes and taking off for the lake, still laughing as he shouted at Milton. “Wait for me, you big oaf!”

~xxx~

Tales of the Geek Stable - Part V

York set his bag down by the door, next to the rest of his camping gear, and his mountain bike. He had already changed the batteries in his GPS, checked all the seals on his OtterBoxes and verified he had all the adapters for his solar backpack. He dropped his storm-proof lighter into one of the pockets and looked around, making sure he didn’t forget anything. Satisfied with his packing, he cracked a beer and sank into the couch to wait for Milton to pick him up.

He stared at the TV, even though it was off. If he focused on that, maybe his eyes wouldn’t drift up to the pictures on the shelf above it. He couldn’t stop them, though. Haydn. Sweet, beautiful Haydn, with his black hair and grey eyes. He took a long pull off the beer and sighed, closing his eyes against the burn that threatened to spill into tears. He dropped his head onto the back of the couch and rubbed his chest. Thinking about Haydn always seemed to make his scar hurt, like it was new.

Two years ago. That’s when his life went to shit. When his world came crashing down around him in gunfire. This was the anniversary of Haydn’s death. That’s why his team wanted to take him camping. Get him out of the house. Away from the memories. Away from the ghost of his dead lover. Except he was never really gone.

“I miss you so much,” he said to the portrait over the TV, the grey eyes staring back at him. “I’m so sorry.” He let the tears fall and rubbed his scar again. He closed his eyes and let the memories crash over him.

~~~

“I’ll pump, you pay?” York asked Haydn, pulling into the convenience store parking lot.

“You got it. Want me to get you a drink while I’m in there?”

“Yeah, a-“

“Blue one. I know.” He smiled and leaned across the console to give him a quick kiss. “Be right back.”

York grabbed him around the back of the neck and kissed him again. “Better be. I’ll leave without you.”

They both smiled and got out of the car. York watched through the windows as Haydn said something to the cashier and nodded back at him.  The pump reset, and he began filling the tank. He set the latch on the handle and went around the car to wash the windshield. When he looked back into the store, he saw Haydn in line, watching him. He smiled and waved the plastic bottle at York.  The man in front of him finished, and he stepped up to pay. He smiled that million dollar smile at the sales woman, and York could tell from there that she was smiling and flirting with his lover. 

Not a chance, lady. He’s mine. York grinned as he finished at the pump, thinking about the night he had planned. It was their second anniversary. He was going to take Haydn to dinner, and then to a hotel, with room service and a spa, and all the luxury he could afford on his meager salary. He dunked the squeegee into the water again and went to work on the back window. When he looked back for Haydn, his heart stopped.

Two men, dressed in black hoodies, stepped up behind Haydn and pulled out guns. One of the crooks aimed his gun at the cashier, and the other leveled his at Haydn’s head. York felt the wooden handle drop from his hand, then the splash of water as the sponge hit the blacktop. 

“No!” he shouted, running for the doors. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. He felt like he was running through quicksand when he saw the man’s arm bounce up, and the spray of red before Haydn fell. The gunman looked out the window and pointed the gun at him. He looked at the face beyond the gun, and then he felt the burn. Looking down, he noticed the front of his shirt was wet. He stopped and put his hand to his chest and stared at his hand, dumbfounded by the flow of red pumping over his fingers. He heard sirens somewhere miles away, growing fainter, as the world turned grey, then black.

He woke up in the hospital, Ogilvie and Corny next to the narrow bed. There were uniformed officers all around, and Xander was talking to a man in a cheap sports coat. He lifted his hand, and Ogilvie grabbed it.

 “Hey, buddy, how’re you feeling?” His dark eyes looked sad. “You had us scared shitless.”

York tried to look around, but he couldn’t see much from his vantage point. Xander and Sports Coat, who had a badge clipped to his belt, turned and approached his bed. When they parted, he saw Haydn’s shoes, sticking out from the end of sheet. He was laying on a gurney, and his face was covered.

“Haydn? Baby?” He called out, but there was no answer. He tried to get up, but Corny and Ogilvie held him down. “What are you doing? I’ve got to get to him. Help him! Why isn’t anybody helping him?”

“Nurse!” Xander shouted over his shoulder. He reached out to touch one of York’s legs, leaning over to block his view of Haydn.

“Xander! Move! Haydn!” He yelled again.

“Jesus, man. Calm the fuck down!” Corny shouted at him, shoving back against him as he struggled. “You’ve been shot. Fucking act like it!”

York looked up at Corny, and he felt a burning sensation in his other arm. He turned to see a nurse pulling a syringe out of the IV tube. “What?” He tried to look around, to get some fucking answers, but the world went dark again.

The funeral had been the worst. Fuck. Who was he kidding? Everything was the worst. Every next thing was worse than the last. The hospital. The rehab. The funeral, where Haydn’s parents refused acknowledge him, and the family that did looked at him with such disgust and hate, he could hardly bear it. Then the trial. The press. The sentencing. Every fucking day for two fucking years so far.

He stood, trying to get the sobs under control, and walked over to pick up Haydn’s picture. He tipped his bottle to it and finished it.

“Baby. I can’t believe it’s been two years. Fuck. Do you realize I’ve now been without you for as long as I was with you?” He sat down on the floor, cradling the picture. “I should have followed you. I should have been with you. I should still be with you.”

His cell phone rang, dragging him out of his thoughts.

“Hey, I’m pulling into the lot now. Need help with your gear?” Milton asked when he answered.

“Yeah, come on up.” He took a deep breath and wiped his face. He took one more look at Haydn and set the picture back in its place before opening the door to let Milton in. If the farm boy could tell he’d been crying, he didn’t show it. He just hefted the bike over his beefy shoulder and picked up York’s sleeping bag before nodding and heading back down the stairs to his truck.

York shouldered the backpack and took one last look at the picture. “Miss you, babe.”

He put his sunglasses on and left, locking the door behind him.

~xxx~

Tales of the Geek Stable - Part IV

Xander leaned against the filing cabinet in Roth’s office, glaring at the marketeer. Corny was under the desk, connecting the receiver for the new wireless keyboard and mouse. 

Roth cleared his throat and ran a hand along the back of his neck and looked down at his shoes. “Look, I didn’t push him into anything.” He turned back to Xander, but whatever he was going to say died when he saw the man’s face. 

Corny popped his nicotine gum as he tested the new peripherals, making sure everything worked properly. When he was satisfied, he packed up the old gear and left the two managers alone.

“Look, Xander–”

“Don’t,” Xander snapped. “Don’t try to spin this. You should have never started anything to begin with. And once you did, you damn sure should have kept your fucking mouth shut.” Xander crowded him into the corner of the office.

“I know. But you know how he is.”

Xander closed his eyes and turned away from Roth. Yes, he knew how Dub was. And he was not how Roth painted him. He didn’t deserve to be the company mattress based on the rumors this jackass started. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Come on, Xander. Look at that hot ass and that sweet mouth.” Roth leered. “He’s a born cum dumpster.”

Xander whirled around, his eyes blazing. Roth cowered back into the corner as the bigger man advanced on him, locking his jaw tight. “Just. Fucking. Shut. The fuck. Up.” His hands were shaking with the desire to rip something apart - starting with Roth’s body. He turned and opened the door, stepped out into the hallway, and nodded to the audience that had gathered looking for dirt.

Roth hovered near the doorway, looking pale and scared. Xander turned to address him directly. He cleared his throat and kept his voice even and clear. “If you need any further support, please call me directly. My team is too busy to clean up after your clumsiness.”

~~~

“Man, I wish I could have seen that,” Val laughed as Corny told the team what happened in Roth’s office. “Glad Iceman finally brought him down a peg or two. Couldn’t have happened to a better man. Fucking weasel.”

“Val.” York said, nodding at Dub.

Val put a hand on Dub’s shoulder. “Oh, hey, man. Sorry. It’s just–“

“It’s okay,” Dub interrupted. “Never expected anything from him.”

Everyone looked up when Xander walked into the room and closed the door.  “Listen up, guys. From now on, any keyboard calls go to York, Ogilvie, or Corny. In that order. Got it?”

“Why not me?” Milton asked.

“Because you’re still new. The users will walk all over you. And before you ask, Val, they think you’re fun, just like Dub. York’s been here long enough they won’t try anything, and Ogilvie will shoot them down quick if they did.”

“Then why the fuck do I have to do them?” Corny groused.

Xander’s smile was cold. “’Cause they’re afraid of you.”

Corny looked at him for a minute, then shrugged. “Okay.”

“Uh, Boss?” Dub asked from behind him.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Xander nodded and turned back toward his office. “Why don’t you guys head on out? I’ll handle anything that comes up.”

“Don’t gotta ask me twice.” Val stood up and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. “Coming, guys?”

“Yeah, just hang on a sec,” York said, picking up his backpack and gathering his stuff. 

“I’m going to finish up this account list before I head out. I’ll meet you guys at the lake.”

“Just make sure you bring the beer. If we’re stuck out there without any, I’ll be seriously pissed,” Corny said, slapping another patch on his arm.

“You’ll be pissed, anyway.” Ogilvie chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it. See you guys later.”

He waited ten minutes to make sure the team had the chance to clear the parking lot, then he knocked on Xander’s door.

He lowered his eyelashes as he looked into Xander’s eyes. 

“Hey, Boss,” he said huskily before stepping inside and locking the door.

~xxx~

Tales of the Geek Stable - Character Bio - Dub

I've got a cock-blocking sheriff, a self-depreciating boa, and a dyslexic spider monkey with ADD all beating against the glass in my head, wanting to be let out. My poor geeks haven't been able to get a word in edgewise, so I don't have an installment today. So, here's a character bio.

Name: William Weston Wheeler "Dub"
Specialty: Windows, Web
Stats: Early 20s, 5'11", Blue eyes, Black hair
Body: Very lean, smooth swimmers' build, very cut
Info: Slutty reputation, comes from money, but resents his parent's posing

~xxx~

Tales of the Geek Stable, Part III

Dub stewed all the way to Mandy's office. He was so tired of this shit. The bright smile and wave he tossed the guys across the courtyard was completely fake. Just like most everything else about him. Roth had made it clear that all Dub was good for was releasing some tension during the work day. Couldn't even be bothered to go out for a drink.

He took the long way around the building to clear his head before knocking on Mandy's door.

"Dub, come on in. Can you close the door?" Mandy greeted him, pushing back from her desk a little, but not leaving her chair. She had pushed her skirt up past her knees, and her shoes were kicked off.

He suppressed a sigh and walked to the desk. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Mandy looked up at him through lowered lashes, pouting. “Why not, Dub?”

Dub shook his head. He really didn’t want to do this. Sure, Mandy was pretty, and he wasn’t against the idea of being with a woman – he’d been with plenty. Hell, he’d been with plenty of men, too. In almost any conceivable combination. But it was never enough.

“Do you still need your keyboard fixed?”  Dub steered the conversation back to the reason he was there.

“Yes,” Mandy said with an exaggerated sigh. She stood up to trade places with Dub.

When he crawled under the desk to reattach the cable, he noticed she had removed the cabling from the tray he had installed to prevent the cord from getting caught. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, then re-ran the cabling. When he spun around crawl back out, she had sat back down, hitching her skirt up. He didn’t need runway lights to see the landing strip.

“Mandy, please.” He kept his distance, but she moved the desk chair forward. He put his hands on the arms to hold her away.

“Come on, Dub. Just this once?” She whispered, giving him her best sultry stare.

He shook his head. “No, Mandy. I can’t.”

“That’s not what I hear.”

“Well, you heard wrong.”

“I won’t tell anyone.” She tried to push forward again, but Dub held the chair still, his knuckles turning white with the effort to control his anger.

“Mandy, I’m going to leave now. Please do not pull the cable out again.” He pushed the chair back far enough to get out and left the office. He made it out the courtyard and took a seat on one of the benches away from the smokers. He took his cell phone out and dialed with shaky fingers.

“Frost.”

“Hey, Boss. It’s me.”

Xander glanced at the display on his desk phone, noticing the call came from an outside line. “Dub? What’s up? Are you on your cell?”

“Yeah. I need to talk to you. Got some time?”

“Sure. Let me close my door.”

“Wait. I’ll be right there.” He hung up and walked back into the building, wandering through the café, and around the cubes on his way back to the Stable. He needed to clear his mind before talking to the Iceman.

Xander just stared at the phone for a minute. Why would Dub need to call him from an outside line if he was still on site? He knew what Dub was going to bring up. Ogilvie stopped by to debrief him when the team returned from their break. Well, their coffee time – they always seemed to be on break, chatting and laughing at their desks while they worked on their projects. He hung up and had cleared off his desk when Dub came in and closed the door.

“What’s shaking, Dub?” Xander asked with a smirk.

Dub gave him a tired smile. “This keyboard thing is getting out of hand.”

“Ya think?”

“Yeah.”

Xander noticed the normally playful tone was gone from Dub’s voice, and he looked rattled. Very few things ever rattled Dub. “What happened?”

“Nothing, really. You may get a call from Mandy. Or from HR.”

“Dub?”

“Look. Nothing happened. She pulled her cord out of the track and unplugged it. When I fixed it, she kind of came on to me. I pushed her away. I never touched her.”

“Dub.” Xander shook his head. He knew Dub would be telling him the truth, but the problem with larger than life reputations was they were often the only thing people believed. If Mandy was going to file a compliant, the burden of proof would be on them to prove it was a lie.

“Seriously, Xander. I only touched the arms of her chair, and that was only to get her to stop wheeling into me.”

“I believe you.” Times like this are what made Xander hate being the boss. Sometimes he’d love to go back to be being a tape monkey, just to not have to deal with the people issues. He exhaled and looked at Dub. “We’ll figure something out, if it comes to that.”

“Thanks, boss.”

“Now, what do you want to do going forward? How do you want me to handle all the keyboard requests?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want me to come down hard on the users for unplugging them? You know most of them are doing it on purpose. I can tell them they’re on their own.”

“No, I don’t think we need go that far.” Dub thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think I can go out there for a while, though.”

Xander smiled and pulled a box off the top of his filing cabinet. “Let’s go.”

Dub furrowed his eyebrows together. “Where? What’s in the box.”

Xander just smiled and entered the Stable.

~xxx~

Tales of the Geek Stable, Part II (NSFW)

Ogilvie walked in the North entrance of the cafeteria and wandered around looking at the afternoon snacks. He considered grabbing an ice cream sandwich, but decided against it and went for his usual. Extra-large iced tea, extra crushed ice, and a cinnamon oatmeal cookie. After paying, he stood near the registered and watched the team sitting at their regular table. He chuckled and shook his head. They always sat at the same table, in the same positions around it. At least everyone knew where to find them if any issues came up.

Corny sat closest to the registers, his back to him. His arms were on the table and his hand was curled loosely around his coffee cup, fingers twitching and bouncing on the table. York sat to his right, watching people coming and going. Two bottles of Gatorade stood in front of him. Dub sat nearest the walkway, most accessible to everyone walking by, and Val sat next to him, chugging his Mountain Dew. Ogilvie joined them, taking his usual seat next to York.

"How's that thing working out for you?" he asked as Corny fingered the patch stuck to his upper arm.

"Fucking sucks." His eyes were locked on the smokers on the opposite side of the courtyard. Ogilvie looked out the floor to ceiling windows and watched as Roth lit up. His eyes cut to Dub, who was pretending not to notice. Corny's fingers twitched harder, and he took a deep breath, as if he could feel the nicotine from there. He closed his eyes and exhaled. "If it weren't for that fucking bet, I'd say fuck it."

"I told you I could do it." Ogilvie smiled at him.

"Yeah, well, fuck you." Everyone laughed as Corny gave him the finger.

Ogilvie pointed to the two bottles on the table. “Drinking double fisted, York?”

“Nah, taking one back for Milton.”

"Hey, Dub?” A soft voice interrupted their banter. “I think my keyboard's broken. Can you come by to look at it?" A very pretty blonde haired woman stood very close to him at the table, blinking her eyes at him and shifting her weight between her feet.

"Uh, yeah. Give me 15 minutes?"

"Sure!" She smiled and bounced of to another table.

He dunked the teabag in his cup, splashing a little water over the sides.

"Hey, you brought it on yourself," Val said.

"You suck one guy off under his desk, and now everyone wants to take a number." He wrapped the teabag around his spoon.

"Maybe you should have locked the door first," York suggested.

"Or better yet, control yourself, you horny little fucker," Corny supplied. "Should have never done it here to begin with."

"I think you need to slap on another patch there, pal." Dub lowered his eyebrows and glared back at Corny, who popped a piece of gum out of its blister pack and returned the glare as he chewed.

"Are you supposed to mix those things?" Val asked. He held up his hands in surrender when Corny turned his glare on him. "Fine, suit yourself."

Dub took a sip of his tea and grimaced.

"Why do you drink that stuff if you don't like it?" York asked him.

"Yeah, it smells like Froot Loops," Val commented.

"Earl Grey was a very big thing in the Wheeler house. High tea, every afternoon." He shook his head at the memory of his parents, pretending they were something they weren't. "Appearances and all that shit, you know?"

"Yeah, but you're not in the Wheeler house anymore. You're on your own now. Why keep it up? You obviously don't like it." It sounded obvious to Ogilvie.

"To remind myself of what I don't want to be."

Corny snorted. "I think your legendary keyboard fixing skills would be enough."

Dub shot him a death stare and stood up. “I think I’ll go fix Mandy’s now.” He left through the courtyard doors, stopping to talk to Roth for a few minutes. They watched as Roth lit up another, blowing a large cloud of smoke around them.

“Fucker.” Corny drained the last of his coffee and crushed the paper cup. “Now he’s going to smell like smoke all afternoon.”

As if on queue, Dub turned around and waved at them, shooting them a huge smile before going back in to find Mandy’s desk.

“Fucker.” Corny said one more time as they walked back to the stable.

~xxx~

Tales of the Geek Stable, Part I (NSFW)

This is the first entry in the story of a group of geeks working for a large corporation. I'll be making it up as I go along, and posting a new chapter every Friday.  If I get stuck, I'll at least post a bio of one of them. Hope you enjoy!

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“The Iceman cometh,” Valentino said as he walked through the bullpen to his cube, flipping his long dreadlocks over his shoulder and slurping the last of his Monster before stacking the can on top of the pyramid of empties on his desk. York looked up from his monitor just as the boss entered the Geek Stable, as everyone referred to the room that housed the I.T. team. Milton and Cornelius just waved and went back to working on the tape backup system.

“Morning, Xander. What brings you to the Stable today?” Ogilvie asked as their manager stood in the center of the room, surveying his team with his hands on his narrow hips. Ogilvie leaned back in his chair and adjusted himself with the heel of his hand as he took in the boss’ impressive form. He looked good. Of course, he always looked good, and he knew it. His black hair showed a few slivers of silver, and there were a few lines around his eyes, but those were the only indications he was in his late forties. Even in his business-casual clothes, you could tell he had the bronzed, buff build of an amateur body builder. He swung his ice blue gaze around the room, scanning the desks. He narrowed his gaze on the only empty one.

“Where’s Dub?”

“Mr. Roth kicked his keyboard out again.” Milton blushed and Corny snorted and adjusted his black-rimmed glasses as Ogilvie explained. York just rolled his eyes.

“Oh, Jeez. Not again. I hope he locked the door this time.” Xander shook his head as the young Windows administrator came into the room, adjusting his pants and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Everyone knew what was going on, but Roth was high enough on the food chain that making a fuss would just make it worse. And William Weston Wheeler’s reputation was well-cultivated and hard-earned.

“Oh, hey Boss. What’s shaking?” A sly smile pulled the right side of his full mouth up into a grin. His right eyebrow followed to complete the smirk. He passed Xander to take his spot next to Valentino. Xander cleared his throat.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re all ready for the audit starting next week. Milton, Val, you’re on inventory, Ogilvie on user accounts, and Corny on Disaster Recovery. York, please review the policies. Dub, you’re riding the helpdesk.”

“Oooh. My favorite,” he cooed. Xander fixed him with a stare before sighing and leaving. Everyone broke out in laughter once he cleared the doorway.

“Dub, you gotta stop doing that here,” Ogilvie said.

“Why? We’re consenting adults, I’m not getting any preferential treatment, and no one is claiming harassment. It’s just two people having fun.”

“Yeah, but the number of people ‘accidentally’ kicking out their keyboards has increased, like, 1,000 percent since word got out,” Val said, chuckling.

“It’s a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it.” Dub smiled and licked his lips unapologetically.

“If you keep getting dirty so often, management’s going to replace all the desktops with laptops so there aren’t any keyboards to kick out,” Ogilvie pointed out.

“Well, there will still be some kind of cable to crawl under desks to check for,” Dub replied with a leer.

“Dub, please. Just step it back some.”

“Fine,” Dub huffed, as if agreeing caused him great pain.

“Well, I need some coffee. Anyone up for a trip to café?” Corny stood and pushed his glasses back up his nose. He scratched the short scruffy beard that covered his chin.

“Yeah, I’m in.” York’s flannel shirt rode up to reveal pale white skin around his hips as he combed his fingers through his red hair. Dub and Val joined the others at the door. “Milton? You coming?”

“Nah, I gotta get this tape swap done if I’m going to catch up for the camping trip tonight. We’re still on, right?”

“Yep. And we need your truck, cowboy, so don’t be late. Oh? How ‘bout you?” York turned his green eyes at Ogilvie.

“Nah, I’ve got some calls to make. Y’all go ‘head.”

“Suit yourself.” York gave him one last look before winking and leaving with the rest of the team.

“Frost.” The terse voice answered Ogilvie’s call.

“Do you know how hot you look when you’re trying to be stern with Dub?”

Xander sighed. “I don’t know what to do about him.”

“You know Roth’s the only one, right? He doesn’t really do anything under anybody else’s desk, no matter what the rumor is.”

“Yeah. And if he ever wants to break it off, all he has to do is tell me.”

“He knows that. But, what can you do?”

“I can sick Corny on all those keyboard issues.”

Ogilvie laughed. “He hates people. The first ticket he got to fix something like that, he’d scare the crap out of them.”

“Exactly. It sure would stop the frivolous tickets of people hoping for something.”

“Speaking of hoping for something,” Ogilvie lowered his voice. “Is your door locked?”

“Oh. Please.” It came out more as a groan than conversation. Ogilvie glanced up at the doorway before reaching to his lap to adjust his hardening cock.

“I love it when you call me that,” he whispered into the phone. “It reminds me of the noises you make when I’m buried deep inside you.” The panting and moaning he heard on the other end of the line as his boss worked to compose himself made him rock hard. “I want to walk to your office right now, lock the door, and bend you over that messy desk of yours.”

“Oh. Please don’t.” Xander whispered into the phone.

“Come on, Iceman. Melt for me.”

“Shit!” A sharp knock echoed from outside the Stable and over the phone. “Damn it, Ogilvie. Gotta go.” Ogilvie could hear Xander’s door open and muffled voices from the hallway. He smiled as he leaned back his chair.

“Fuck me,” he commented quietly to himself. He reached into his pants under his desk to give the base of his cock a hard squeeze as he willed his hard-on to go down. After a few deep breaths, he shook his head hard and stood up, wiping his hands with one of the hand sanitizers they kept in their office to clean up after helping a user. Some people's keyboards and mice were disgusting. He smiled as he walked past Xander’s open door on his way to the cafeteria to meet the rest of the team.

~xxx~