Colorado Game (part
1)
By: Andr0gene
(andr0gene@hotmail.com)
**********DISCLAIMER**********
The characters and incidents portrayed and the names used herein are fictitious, any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional. This story portrays, at times, strong erotic content. If you are a minor, or in any other way not allowed to read it, you are advised strongly to discontinue.
*******© andr0gene 2004*******
I have to fully admit that I went into this week with a lot of negative thoughts. I'm not such a commercially oriented person and so when a company newsletter talks about a "team building week"... it rubs me the wrong way, you know? I hate that crap; I don't need to go hike up a mountain or be reborn with Joe Schmo from accounting to do my job. I have real friends for that. I just show up, do my work, don't ask too many questions and collect my paycheck when the contract is fulfilled.
So you'll understand that I wasn't in a very participating mood when I pulled into the parking lot that Saturday morning, a little before eight. I pretty much kept to the side of the excited throng while we waited for the transportation to wherever it was we were going to be taken to. My (granted, one-sided) opinion about the majority of the group was pretty standard; computer nerds, only better dressed. The company I currently work for, Forester Gaming, produces strategy games, mostly in the medieval or space categories and many of the programmers are very young; the average age is twenty five, like myself.
Before I continue, it might be prudent to tell you a little about myself.
My name is Mark Norcross and I'm, as said, twenty five years old. I'd like to think of myself as a free spirit, but maybe a bit of a loner. I'm 6'2 (1.88m) in height, weigh in at about 154lbs (70kg's) and a little on the wiry side of things. I don't work out that much, just some weight training and then only when I feel like it. I like to dress myself in comfy T-shirts and jeans, preferably the worn kind, sneakers and a front-to-back cap. If I had to pick one thing about myself that makes me stand out in a crowd, it would have to be my eyes. The reason for that? Well, my left eye is bright blue and the other is just blue; the medical term for it is heterochromia. There's an ironic fun fact if I ever say one; it's the only hetero thing about me. As for the rest; my hair is dark brown, and I'm not bad to look at, even if I say so myself. I'm also pretty easy going (have a bit of a mouth on me, though), got a few good friends who I hang out with on weekends. I like a beer, sometimes a few too many and I don't smoke (but don't mind it when others do).
As far as the matter of sexuality, briefly touched upon above; I don't like to flaunt the fact that I'm gay. I consider that a private matter, private between two people or in the privacy of ones home on the internet. I don't frequent gay bars, I don't play Gloria Gaynor every hour on the hour, and I keep my distance from the in-your-face guys who prefer to show their difference to the masses. I'm not in the closet or anything; I just don't like that kind of lifestyle. The people who matter in my life, those are the people that know. Many may think every gay man is dressed in leather, prances around like (as Schwarzenegger called it) a girlie man, only sits on the toilet (which 60% of straight guys also do, FYI) and wave with our hands to the point where they'd fall off at any second; the fact of the matter is that a large percentage of us just don't go that way. Most of us simply accepted the fact that we're not going to have the dreams of our parents fulfilled; white picket fence, become a doctor, have 2.5 kids and a Volvo.
My mom could've cared less about it and me? Well, I'll just say that my
sexuality is mine and mine alone. If that means ‘bro's before hoe's' then that
is my concern, not that of a nitwit president. Oh, and I'm a democrat. Duh. So I guess I'm pretty normal. Yes, I do download
pictures on the internet on occasion, and yes, I whack off when it turns me on.
So sue me. While you're at it, sue the rest of
Speaking of graphic:
I was hired by Forester Gaming to produce a musical score for their latest release, a medieval strategy game called ‘Knight Sword'. Ever since I was a kid, music has always been my outlet for anger, joy or sorrow and somehow, that turned into a professional career along the way to adult life. I attended Julliard, only to find myself extremely bored and unchallenged, so I dropped out in the second year, right in the middle of a boring recital. From there on, and contrary to professors of the previously mentioned university, I've been lucky enough to get to where I am today, which is a freelance job of scoring commercials, documentaries and lately, games.
The job I'm currently working on landed in my lap when an employee of FG played a game I scored a few months before and who was impressed with its soundtrack. He took it to the office where he shopped it around at the appropriate levels and then I got a call to discuss a potential collaboration. So I went for a meeting, got a preview of what the game was about, what they were looking for as far as ambience and mood was concerned, and then gave them a few suggestions as to what I thought would help the game-play along and so on. Apparently they liked it; a week later we signed a contract.
So, after working with FG for about two months now, I found myself here, in the company parking lot, waiting with the computer ‘nerds' to whatever was to come.
To be completely honest; I never gave them a chance. I never try talking to them; the only people I talk to are the other three colleagues in the sound department, Joey Collins, Eric Delaney and Will Reynolds. They are the three who give me the input, which they collect from other departments, input that enables me to create a sound specific to the game. And whattaya know; here are two of them right now, coming towards me with their backpacks slung over their shoulders.
Joey and Eric, two goofballs who constantly bicker, fight and compete with each other, found me leaning against the wall and joined me, one on each side.
"You two have been on one of these things before?" I asked, curious. Eric nodded.
"Yeah man... you'll love it. It's great. Last time, we went to the
airport and got on a plane to
"This is my third time," Joey said, whispering in a hushed tone.
"And this time I'm gonna try and see if I can
get into Janice's pants. I almost got to second base in
Janice Heartman: Joey's project of the decade, according to Will. He had been chasing her from the moment he'd started working at FG and I couldn't blame him; when I had first seen her, she'd almost made me rethink my preference for the male population; she was a stunning beauty and with brains too. She was the assistant to Mr. Forester, the founder of the company, and his brother, the company vice-president. I'd read about them; some hotshot businessmen ala Donald Trump, making money like water and, according to rumors, spending it like... well, Ivana Trump, I guess. I didn't know much about them. Last thing I heard, FG's vice-president was somewhere overseas, in Japan or some far away place, and the company president was somewhere around the office, counting his money.
"Janice has been giving you the runaround for three years now," Eric said, "don't you think it's time to move on?"
"No way!" Joey exclaimed a bit too loudly. He lowered his voice when several heads turned our way. "She wants me, I know she does. Man, if you hadn't barged in, I could've have been the father of a couple of kids with her by now."
"In your dreams, man," Eric scornfully replied. And there they went again, calling each other names, slapping each other. But it never went too far and it was obvious that they were best friends. I knew for a fact that they spend the weekends together in bars, double dating chicks and the like.
"Guys..." I asked, waiting for them to finish their routine.
When it took a little longer than usual, I yelled it a bit harder and pointed to a bright blue sports car that I knew belonged to Janice. Immediately, Joey stopped the verbal and physical fighting with Eric. God, he practically drooled as she rose from the car. She was dressed casually, wearing jeans and a leather jacket sporting the orange/white horse-head of the Denver Broncos. The cap on her head had the same logo. She waved when a few people in the larger group called her name; one of the geeks even jogged over to offer his assistance with her luggage, much to Joey's chagrin.
"Idiot," he mumbled. "Like she would go for a beer-bellied, forty years old nerd; not when she could get a twenty-something hunk to fill her nights with hot, passionate sex."
"Like you? Sure. You'll be beating the monkey for a couple of years more, dude," Eric said, starting another round of insults. Then she surprised all three of us when she declined the help of Daddy40, took out a backpack from the trunk and walked over to where we were standing.
"Hey guys," she said, sending us a smile. "Hi Joey." That sent Joey's cheeks into overtime; he went as red as a tomato.
"H...hi," he stuttered, not at all looking like the twenty-something hunk to fill her nights with hot passionate sex, like he promised not a few seconds earlier. Well, that wasn't true; Joey did look like such a hunk. He was nice eyecandy, if you like the type. And now that he was blushing, shy like schoolboy... he looked downright cute. Not my type but cute nonetheless.
"Ross here yet?" she asked, to no one in particular. I frowned when the other two guys shook their heads.
"Who the hell is Ross?" I asked, curious.
"That would be me," a deep voice said behind me. I turned around and the first thing I was looking at was a broad chest, about an arms length from me, covered in beige cashmere. I took an involuntary step back and crooked my neck; damn he was tall. I'm no midget but he was at least 6'5. As I looked up, I grinned stupidly, extending my hand.
"Oops... sorry. I'm Mark. You with Janice here?" I asked, trying to get my wits back. That wasn't easy because, damn, he was handsome!
As my eyes traveled up to make contact with a pair of stormy grey eyes, it was hard not to notice the rest his chiseled facial features; jaw, cheekbones. He had that ‘oompf' thing; where it feels like you're hit in the gut and all wind is knocked out of you? He had that for me. Don't ask me what it is, or why it happens, it just does. And it may happen for me but it probably won't happen for you, with the same guy, I mean. What I like, the other wouldn't even spit on and vice versa. He accepted my hand and shook it, narrowing his eyes at me and tilting his head a bit, frowning. I get that a lot. No, not because I'm so devilishly handsome but because of my eyes, remember? People generally don't see it at once but they know something is ‘off'.
"Ehm... no," he said. He looked again but couldn't see it yet; I generally don't like it when people stare at me like that. Then he let it go for the moment and looked over my shoulder, smiling.
"She's with me. Actually, you're all with me; I'm Ross Forester."
Crap, this wasn't the best way to meet the big boss! As he left me standing there with my hand still half raised in the air, it sank in that I had made a bit of a fool of myself. Then, when Eric hit me on the shoulders, laughing his ass off, I didn't exactly feel much better.
"Way to go, dude... ‘who the hell is Ross?' and he's right behind you. Man, that was classic." I gave him a sour smile and punched his arm.
"Couldn't you have said something, anything?" I hissed, as the whole group went for their luggage when three busses arrived at the parking lot. I bent down to pick up my backpack and swung it over my shoulder, almost keeling back because of the weight. We'd been told to pack for snowy surroundings, so I had pretty much emptied my closet and dumped it all in the backpack, with some ski-boots and other heavy garments. As Eric picked up his luggage as well, he grinned, shaking his head.
"I hadn't even seen him. Don't worry about it, man; this weekend, you're home free. He always insists on us calling him Ross on these trips. He's cool, don't worry. He likes to be one-of-the-guys. Besides, you have a contract. You don't have to suck up to the boss, or he'll be without a score."
But I was a bit worried; I hadn't even known who the big boss was. My negotiations had been with the legal department, so I'd never met the big boss, or his brother, who was the company's vice president. No one I knew talked to Mr. Forester directly, aside from Janice. I didn't even know to whom Will reported, and he was the head of the sound department. I decided to find out during this trip.
It turned out that this ‘trip' was going to Aspen, a 220 mile drive from
Denver; about three-and-a-half to four hours by luxury bus. Eric made sure that
we got the seats all the way in the back so we could stretch our legs while
being served on by an on-board stewardess. About an hour into the trip we
received coffee and sandwiches and I gladly took seconds when offered; I hadn't
eaten yet because I'd been on the late side of things. Aside from that, I just
enjoyed the view. It was a little after
Four luxury chalets, close to each other, and each would have enough room to house the fifty plus people on this trip, even though it might mean that some would have to sleep on the floor; but even for those there had been made arrangements; airbeds. One of the chalets had been reserved for couples who worked for the company. The rest was to be divided between men and women, with the men taking two and the women taking one chalet, them being a minority. We could pick for ourselves which one we wanted to stay in. I chose the furthest one, mainly because most people were clamoring for the other two. Also, this one, I guessed, had the best view of the valley below, since it was built higher up than the other three. So I hauled my backpack out of the luggage compartment underneath the bus and started up the slope. Joey and Eric were right with me and together we ran for it, goofing around as we went. Joey, being the one who worked out the most and had the best stamina among the three of us, arrived first, followed closely by me and then Eric, who panted like a bull. He didn't get much time to rest though; we'd been spotted by the others and at least eight figures were approaching fast. So once we got inside, it was a mad dash to get the best room. Since I wanted the best view I could find, I went up to the first floor, hauling the heavy backpack behind me on the stairs. I got up there not a moment too soon; as I stepped onto the landing, the front door was practically overrun. Up here, there were three rooms; a twin, a single and a master bedroom (and you get one guess as to which one had the best view). I had to choose quickly because footsteps were on the stairs, so I doubled back to the master, touching the handle a second before...
"I'm taking this room," Ross Forester said.
"No way!" I said, grinning up at him.
"Yes way," he answered, equally grinning, trying to pull my hand off the handle. When it became apparent to him that I wasn't about to give way, the door on the right side slammed shut; a second or two later the one on the left.
"Interesting," I said, looking back and forth, "this is the last room. And since I got here first, it looks like you're sleeping downstairs." I sent him the sweetest smile I could muster, as well as sending him a warning with my eyes. His eyes flickered as he narrowed them.
"I'll flip you for it; I don't wanna sleep on one of those air mattresses."
"Neither do I," I replied. "But as you can see, my hand is on the handle. Yours is on my hand, so I was first. No flipping; this one's mine."
"I'm the boss," he said, quasi menacingly, "So I get to stay in the master."
"That doesn't work on me; you're not my boss," I shot back, "so this master is mine!" This was fun, even though I did feel a bit uncertainty coming on; what if he actually did fire me? Stranger things have happened in this world.
"Okay, we're not getting anywhere. I could just physically move you," he said, sizing me up with a little disdain in his expression.
"You could try." The hand on mine started to squeeze. Jesus, he was strong in his hands. The door creaked, but it could also have been the bones in my hand; it sure hurt enough to be the bones. I had to let go or start this weekend off with an injured hand. I let go and he smiled triumphantly.
"Hah! Loser." I didn't know what surprised me more; the fact that he called me a loser or that I had given up; I never give up.
"Fuck," I spat, chiding myself. Damn, my hand hurt. I flapped it a bit, to get some blood flowing again and when I looked up, he frowned and bit his lower lip. "Boss or not, you don't have to physically hurt someone to get your way, jerk," I mumbled, turning away. I heard a sigh behind me and then he called after to me to wait.
"Alright, that was wrong of me. So here's the deal; we share the room. I really can't stand those air things. And you were right; you were first. By now, there isn't any place to go except here; what do you say. Deal?"
"Sure," I replied quickly. I wasn't too keen on an air mattress either. "But no more manhandling me. You've done enough damage for one day." He looked guiltily at my hand.
"I'm sorry; I didn't actually mean to hurt you. But we settled on sharing the room, then?"
I nodded, opened the door and walked inside, only to halt abruptly, causing Ross to walk straight into me. I barely stayed on my feet. We both remained silent as we stared at the king-sized bed that dominated the room. Slowly, with a creak that went on for way too long, the door softly fell into the lock. Aside from the bed, there was a seating area with a small sofa, a TV and a chair. Other than the bathroom, off to the side, there wasn't anything else.
"Ooookay... Ehm... where would you sleep?" I asked. Ross sighed and let his luggage fall to the floor. Then he looked at me, then to the bed and back to me.
"We could share the bed."
"How about the sofa?" I said, instead. Ross frowned, eying it suspiciously.
"I don't think so. Maybe you..."
"Nuhuh," I shook my head resolutely.
"Oh come on! You could sleep on that; I can't. I'm way too big for that."
"Then it looks like the air mattress for you, Boss. Sorry, I was told this was an ‘everyone for himself' kind of week, so boss or no boss; I win," I said, giving him a smug grin. He growled deep in his throat.
"I'm going to fire the person who told you that. But that bed is big enough for the both of us. Come on, please? I really can't sleep on an air mattress, not for an entire week... have mercy." I looked from him to the bed. It was more than big enough; heck, even Eric and Joey could hop in there and there'd still be room.
"Oh alright then, but I'm taking the left side."
"Fine," he said, smiling, "I don't care which side I have to sleep on." And that was that. For some reason, this week started off with me sleeping with the boss. Literally.
**********
The first night I almost didn't sleep a wink, listening to Ross's regular breathing and aware of every movement and sound he made. Ross himself seemed to be deep asleep, not a care in the world, and that was something for which I hated him. I'd never slept with a guy before, save one and that ended in a disaster. Well, not slept as in actually sleeping. I've had a few boyfriends, sure, but I never spent an entire night with them, neither at their place or at mine. I always went home after we'd end up in bed (or a couch or whatever was appropriate), or sent them on their way when it happened at my place. This was weird. Somehow, every sound in the room is multiplied a hundredfold when you're just lying there. I could hear the tiny snore he made, even above the wind that was howling around outside. When I finally did fall asleep, light was already forming in the east. During the next day I was a little brackish for shortage of sleep; but I didn't dare sleep in. When I woke up, Ross had already left the room, though.
The second night went a bit better, and the third I slept like a baby, courtesy of half a dozen beers, a lot of fun and me being sleep deprived for two nights in a row. That day, though, had me quickly reforming my opinion about the majority of my colleagues. Maybe the work they did was not the most glamorous, programming, testing and such, but they sure weren't! That came to me as a bit of a shock, really, but a pleasant one. The biggest dork in the company, fifty-three year old Joe Lopez, had me on the floor, on my hands and knees, laughing like a hyena on crack. He had the driest sense of humor I've ever come across.
Getting to know all of them, listening to their stories about other colleagues, friends and family, was kind of nice. They made me feel welcome, even when I was asked if I had a girlfriend and replied that I wasn't rooting for the female team. Sure enough, jokes were flying within minutes but they weren't hurtful or mean; half of them I had told myself but I even learned a few good new ones. One thing was a little disconcerting though; when I said I was gay, one guy said that it was no wonder then, that I shared a room with Ross. When I asked him why he would make such a strange remark, all I got as an answer was a cryptic ‘you'll find out soon enough'. What, he thought I shared the room because I though Ross was hot? Well, okay, he was very attractive, but that wasn't the reason. And not explaining what he meant made sure that this particular colleague wasn't on my list of reforming an opinion about; he slid down further. Aside from that little incident, the day and evening went by fast.
During the day we had spent hours on the slopes, with me and a dozen others in the kiddy class, learning how to get the hang of it. Half the time we were flat on our asses or faces, having more fun than I ever had. So when I arrived in the room, tipsy like my grandma during the holidays and with a body that was sore from all the falling during the day, I didn't really care if Ross was there or not; I just wanted to sleep. He was there, though, sitting up in bed, reading some papers. I just stripped down, the beers making me less inhibited than I normally am, yawning and giggling at the same time, and stumbled into bed, ignoring several annoyed looks thrown my way.
"You're drunk," he said disdainfully.
‘You're boring," I replied, slurring a bit on the ‘r'. He raised a dark eyebrow and put down his papers as I turned onto my side, facing him. That I turned with a lot of noise and movement didn't seem to make his mood any better.
"Excuse me? I'm working."
"We're supposed to have fun," I said, grasping the papers away and throwing them on the floor. "No work."
He tried to prevent me from succeeding with the disposal of the paperwork and he huffed as they landed on the floor. He turned back the covers with an angry gesture and swung his legs over the edge to get up. As the blankets came off and he rose up to go and get the papers, I got a glimpse of a nicely tanned body, dressed in tight boxers. From the back, he had this whole V-shape going from his hips to his shoulders and when he returned I saw a thin layer of short, chest hair. Not too much, just right, and with a little trail that disappeared down from his bellybutton into his boxers. He didn't have an obvious six-pack, but there were the contours of one. He had nice legs too, for as far as I could see; muscled and none too hairy.
"Like what you see? Can I get back into bed now?" his voice suddenly spoke, clearly annoyed. "Go to sleep, you smell like a bar. You could've at least brushed your teeth." I giggled and nodded, getting up.
"Yes honey. Whatever you say, honey," I mumbled, stumbling to the bathroom. "Stop nagging, honey."
He yelled something back at me but I'd already closed the door, blocking it. After brushing my teeth, I figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to also take a shower. I turned on the taps and got in there for a quick, refreshing cleanup. It didn't really make me sober; I still had that pleasant buzz in my head, one of those that make the world a much more fun place. After I toweled off, I realized that the shower-idea had been a good one, save the re-dressing part; I hadn't brought any clean underwear. I opened the door slightly, to see if Ross was still awake. The room was dark by now so I couldn't really tell if he was lying with his back turned towards me or facing this way. It didn't matter though, it was dark enough. I snuck into the room as silently as I could and got to the closet, quickly grabbing a pair of boxers and returned to the bathroom. After I was done, I switched the lights off and went back to bed. It took me a while to find a good spot, then I sighed deep and content; that had been a good idea, taking that shower.
"Next time you feel like walking around naked, and you don't want me to see it, turn off the light in the bathroom too," his voice suddenly spoke, giving me a fright. But it sounded like he was trying not to laugh.
"Hmprf...," I quipped, "Liked what you saw? Can I go to sleep now?" I groaned on the inside. God, stupid, stupid, stupid! I should've worn a towel. But he didn't answer. I didn't say anything else, instead opting for a turn onto my side, my back facing him.
The next day I woke because of a steady stream of warm air that kept blowing onto my face. It was a nice feeling, warm and comfortable and I crept a little closer to the source. But when I opened my eyes I found the sight less than comfortable; a lightly haired chest, not two inches from my nose. Great. One super-sized bed, more than enough space in there to accommodate at least two other people comfortably, and I find the only other occupant in it, without missing a beat, and all the way on the other side.
His head, resting on the pillow slightly above my own head, was inclined down a little and he was breathing steadily through his mouth, causing the flow of warmth onto my face. I slowly moved my head away and looked up. He appeared relaxed, almost serene. Even his chiseled features were somewhat softened now, giving him a more approachable appearance.
I tried to move away from his body, which was practically radiating warmth underneath the blankets, only to find that I wouldn't be getting very far. Somehow, in our sleep, our legs had entwined, and one of his, a heavy sucker, was pinning one of mine down onto the mattress. When I tried to pull my leg free, he grunted somewhat annoyed and an arm crept onto my side underneath the blanket, halfheartedly trying to get me to remain where I was.
I stopped moving, watching his face closely. When it looked like he was about to wake up, I closed my eyes quickly, lay as still as possible and tried to fake-sleep my way out of this one. It didn't take that long, fortunately. A couple of deep sighs, finally leg movement, then one giant yawn, a bump on my head when he brought an arm down that had been placed above me and the elbow came into contact with me, a quick move to bring the arm out of reach and then... silence. I could almost feel him staring down at me. I faked waking up disturbed, rubbing my head. Then I looked up, finding him on his side and indeed, looking at me.
"Hello," I said, squinting because of the light coming from outside.
"Morning," he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting up a little. "Sleep well?" I yawned, a real one, and touched my head.
"Hmm... I must've bumped my head last night or something." He surprised me by showing good manners, admitting that it had been him.
"Sorry... I'm afraid that it was me who did that."
"What, you figure to start the day off by trying to beat me up?" I asked, making a face. "Cracking my hand to pieces isn't enough anymore?" He actually smiled at that.
"It's not every day that I wake up with someone close beside me..." he spoke, lazily smiling.
"What time is it?" I asked, quickly, feeling my cheeks warm up. Damn, he looked downright horny, what with the stubble on his chin and cheeks. He lifted his arm and looked at his watch, frowning.
"Six." I groaned, burying my face in my pillow.
"Too early," I said, the words muffled by the pillow. "Wake me again in two hours."
"Don't be such a baby. Come on, get up." I protested when he yanked the blankets off of me, exposing me to the coldness in the room. At least I got the satisfaction of his own surprise; he yelped when he experienced the cold by himself. I stifled a laugh when he pulled the blanket up again, with the same speed. "Alright... maybe try to sleep another hour, then."
"Right... and I am a baby, huh?" I said, lifting my head. I found his much closer than expected and I held my breath when our eyes met.
"Be silent, you," he replied. His eyes narrowed a bit. Then he smiled. "Green. Blue."
"Huh?" I asked, yawning.
"Your eyes; there was something about you but I couldn't figure out what. Now I see it," he answered, looking a bit surprised.
"Hmprf...," I replied, "not the quickest in the bunch, eh?" He snickered.
"Go back to sleep."
**************
When I woke up for the second time, it was because of the shower running and someone softly singing too false for it to be the radio. When I listened closely, I could hear Ross murdering a song from the Rolling Stones. The running water stopped and there was silence for five minutes; then the door opened and he came out, toweling off his hair. When he saw that I was awake, he smiled.
"Well, you sure slept a hole in the day."
"Huh? What time is it?" I asked, frowning. He picked up his watch and looked at it.
"It's after twelve."
"What! Fuck, fuck, fuckerdifuck," I gasped, turning back the covers and getting out of bed, grabbing my jeans. "Why didn't you wake me? I was supposed to have breakfast with Eric and Joey!"
"Relax, Mark... I'm kidding. It's a little after eight."
"Jackass," I mumbled, pulling my foot back out of the jeans.
"I'm sorry... what was that?" he asked, frowning.
"Nothing," I quickly replied.
"I thought so." He dressed himself as I lay back on the bed, rubbing my face. "I'm done in the bathroom, so if you wanna..." I nodded and got up again, selecting a few clothes; then I disappeared into the bathroom.
**********
When I got down, about half of the occupants in the chalet were in the living room. Eric and Joey were having a go at breakfast, welcoming me with a slight look of relief because making breakfast for fifteen hungry guys can be a little too much for two guys who still let their mom make their lunchbox. I said that I would take care of the pancakes and ten minutes later, the first batch was in the pan. When breakfast was served, we all sat down in the living room, where plans were quickly made to spend yet another day on the slopes. Since this was the fourth day, and my three day course in the kiddy-class had come to an end, I finally would get to do some real skiing, something I was actually looking forward to. But when I asked if could go along with the more experienced skiers, Eric and Joey among them, their faces told me enough; they weren't about to play babysitter on me. They wanted to just go and do their thing. So there was nothing left but to see what the beginners from the other chalets were going to do and join them.
When breakfast was done, most of the guys disappeared upstairs to get their stuff, leaving me with all the dirty dishes. I sighed and got to it, piling the plates and taking them to the kitchen. I was up to my elbows in foam when Ross came in, took a dishtowel and helped me in silence. When we were almost done, he asked me if I wanted to join him on one of the easier slopes.
"I have to get back in form anyway and you looked disappointed when the others didn't want you to come along."
"It's okay," I said, but I was thankful that he asked. "They just don't wanna be held back by me. I'll go and see what the others from the kiddy class are up to and join them. I don't wanna cramp your style." He snickered and shook his head.
"Don't worry about it. We all had to learn at some point. They just forgot that they were once beginners too. I remember it. Then again, that was only three years ago." When I gaped at him, he answered it with a lopsided grin. "What, you think we're all born with ski talent? Nah... until three years ago, I hadn't even seen a ski. So... you wanna go?"
"Sure! If you don't mind picking me up every five minutes, or steer me clear of trees and such crap." He laughed, shaking his head.
"No, I don't mind.
After I was done doing the dishes, I quickly shot on my ski boots and went
over to the other chalets, telling the beginners there to get ready and gather
in front of our chalet at
"Is there something wrong?" I asked. He shot me a quick smile and shook his head.
"No, no... it's just... I thought it'd just be the two of us. But this is fine. We'll make a party of it." He pulled on his boots and up we went.
If I remembered correctly, there were several slopes for beginners, apart from the kiddy slope, and quite a few for the more experienced skiers. So we went up to about half the mountain, where a few more challenging areas were located. There we started the day.
"If I break a leg, you're on nursing duty," I threatened him, which he answered with a grin.
"Sure. Come on, you can do it. It looks a lot worse than it is.
By then, it was a bit too late for that advice; I'd pushed off with a little too much force and was off, gathering more speed as I went. It was fun though. The cold mountain air was gushing past my face; trees were zipping past my eyeline. I was going a bit too fast for my taste so I tried to break like I'd been taught in kiddy class. To my satisfaction, I slowed down.
"Jesus, you almost gave me a heart attack," Ross's voice sounded, coming up behind me. But he smiled and nodded. "You're doing pretty well! Wanna try to slalom a bit? Otherwise you'll keep breaking until you either run out of speed or hit something down there."
"Could you please not say the words ‘you', ‘going' and ‘hit' in the same sentence?" I quipped, "That's like yelling ‘incoming!' in a submarine." He smiled and got past me.
"Okay, follow my lead. We'll try it slow first." He started out to the left and I closely looked at what he was doing, trying to mimic his movements.
Behind me, a few of the others from my class mimicked me. All in all it took
us three trips back and forth before I got the hang of it. I fell more times
than I could count and by the time it was
We had lunch at a place nearby, where we had fries, cokes and warm coco. Then
we went back in and pretty much spent the entire day on the slope. Around
When we finally arrived at the chalet, and I had to take off my skis, it was beginning to get dark. When the skis were off, I almost fell flat on my face again because I hadn't walked for hours. Luckily I wasn't the only one and we got a few laughs out of it before I went upstairs to take a, in my opinion, well deserved bath. All that falling and using muscles one normally doesn't use had been pretty tiring. The bath was already running and I sat on the bed, stripping down my pants, making ‘ouch, ouch' comments until they were off. I was just lying on my back on the bed, resting from that ordeal, when the door opened and Ross came in.
"You alright?" he asked, taking off his own jacket.
"I'll be fine," I replied, sitting up and covering myself with the ski-pants. I was practically naked, wearing only my shorts. "I think my backside is black and blue. I'll be as stiff as a board, tomorrow. But it was great; thanks for taking us."
"You're welcome," he said, throwing the jacket on the bed. He looked in the direction of the bathroom. "Are you running a bath?" I nodded and got up. It would be close to ready by now.
"Mark?" he said, just as I got to the bathroom. I turned around and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Your backside looks fine to me."
I felt the color rushing to my cheeks and went inside, closing the door, and hearing his soft laughter as the lock clicked.
**********
The stiffness didn't wait to come in the morning. Instead, it came when we were all downstairs. I wanted to get up, to get a few drinks, and I almost could move! The others started laughing when they saw me struggle to get up, but those laughs quickly died out when at least five of them also made a face when they tried to rise from the couches.
"Jesus, you guys look like shit," Joey said, grinning wide. He had a reason to grin, though. About an hour earlier, he had come to me and told me that he'd asked Janice out for a few drinks. Shy as he was, he also seemed to look forward to it.
"Oh, shut up. Don't you have to get ready for that twenty-something stuff with Janice?" I replied, sending him a wink. He blushed and mumbled something. "I need something stronger than beer; anyone else?"
**********
That evening, about five of us were left behind while the others were out for drinks, joining Janice and Joey, much to his chagrin. Obviously he'd had something else in mind. Those who stayed behind just relaxed downstairs, watching TV, reading or playing cards. Then Joe got the idea to play a game of Monopoly. We set up on the dining table and brought the drinks over from the living room. I was on my third glass of whisky and finally started to feel comfortable enough; my bones and muscles didn't ache half as much as earlier in the evening. Around eleven, two colleagues called it a night and went up. They'd been beaten out of the game anyway, leaving Joe, Ross and me to play on. When it was Joe's turn, I got up to get another drink and swayed a bit. I giggled.
"Woops..."
"Yeah, you ‘woops' right back into that chair. You've had enough," Ross said, taking my glass away and setting it on the other side of the table, out of reach. "Maybe you should go up as well." I rolled my eyes.
"Yes, dear. Need me to take out the trash? Perhaps walk the dog and then come up for a spank or two because I've been a bad boy? Who are you, my boyfriend?" Joe almost spat out a mouthful of his own drink and laughed loudly.
"I agree with Ross. You're drunk. Go to bed."
"Oh great, my dad's here too!" I said, shaking my head. "God, you guys are no fun. Right, well... I'm off to bed then."
I didn't notice Ross following me until he prevented me from keeling over. I mumbled a 'thank you' but had to do so at least twice more on the way up. When we arrived at the bedroom, he opened the door and assisted me by the elbow to get me inside. I tried to shrug it off, telling him I could walk perfectly fine, belaying that comment a second later; as soon as he let go, I lost my balance and almost went down, arms flailing. He grabbed my elbow again, this time much harder and definitely painful.
"Sure, you can walk just fine. Don't be such an idiot and accept help. You're a lousy drunk." I snickered at him and he loosened his grip.
"Don't patronize me," I said, giving him a soft push. "I'm not a kid."
"Then don't behave like one. Come on, just a few more steps and then you can sit down." I told him to fuck off.
"What did you say?" he hissed, squeezing a bit harder. Jesus his hands were strong. I had to fight the urge to squeal.
"Au! I told you to fuck off. Leave me alone."
We angrily stared at each other for a long few seconds. Then he suddenly moved forward, so fast that he was little more than a blur and I definitely yelped now. His mouth came down painfully hard onto mine, and his teeth bit into the soft flesh of my lower lip. The momentum this sudden ‘attack' pushed me backward, until the back of my legs hit the side of the bed. It came completely unexpected and there was little I could do except to try and push him away. Had I succeeded, he might have had one shiner of a black eye, me being drunk or not. But it was like I was pushing against a brick wall; the hard muscles in his chest didn't even flinch. His hands handily caught mine and kept them away from him, and he used his body to block me from getting away, pushing a leg between mine and against the bed.
I started to protest and opened my mouth, but he handily took the opportunity to push his tongue inside. It wasn't a nice, romantic kiss or anything like that; it was more like he was trying to punish me for something. His long agile tongue probed deeper as time went by and as the seconds passed, his grip on my hands eased and he eventually let go when I gave in, letting one slip around my middle. The other one went up to my neck, nestling there.
I was still trying to comprehend all of this, and the only thing I could do was try to push him out of my mouth. But I failed miserably because instead of doing that, I was definitely beginning to kiss him back. When he lifted his head, and I slowly opened my eyes, his had darkened and they stared into mine, holding my gaze. Then he tilted sideways and came closer again. I pulled my head back and he stopped.
"You're drunk," he said. He remained close as I slowly looked away and took a deep breath.
"You're a bastard," I whispered, my anger boiling beneath the surface. Then I brought up my hand and wiped my mouth with the back of it, while a slow smile crept onto his face.
"Sure I am. I'm the bastard and you're innocent. But you enjoyed it as much as I did."
"Please, get over yourself," I replied, still tasting him on my tongue. "That was the single, most supremely awful experience of these past few days."
"Liar," he retorted, "you liked that. I know it and you damn well know it." Then he left. Uch, he was intolerable; especially because he was right...
After I had taken a shower and got into bed, I lay awake. That... ‘kiss' and the shower had pretty much sobered me up, leaving only a dull throb behind. The image of myself in the mirror, my lips swollen and my eyes bright with small pupils; I had looked like a ghost. Why the hell had he done that? All that because I told him to fuck off? I turned onto my side and tried to go to sleep but it simply wouldn't come. My head was filled with the images of what had happened. I was still trying to get them out of my head an hour later, when the door softly opened and Ross came inside. It clicked softly behind him and I looked up. He was about to say something but I sent him a warning glare, turned around and said nothing. I listened as he undressed and when he walked to the bathroom, I started to turn around again; I wasn't going to speak to him. He hung his head and sighed.
"Come on... can we talk about it?" He went into the bathroom when I didn't reply and I heard that he brushed his teeth. Then, when he came back and walked around the bed to the empty side, I turned again.
"You're really behaving like a child," he said softly. He sighed again, mumbling something and got in bed. A few seconds past when he finally lay still; then he spoke again. "Mark?" I kept silent. "Mark... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
"Damn straight you shouldn't have."
"Oh, so you are still speaking to me. Good. Could you turn around, please?" When I didn't, he simply pulled me on the shoulder and onto my back. "I still think you were being a shit and deserved it. But I went too far."
I've been told before that when I've had a bit too much to drink, I'm very much present; loud, giggling and so forth. Not annoying or anything, just... present. Maybe he was right but that didn't give him the right to do what he did. He wasn't my boyfriend; he couldn't just ‘punish' me in such a way.
"Maybe I was being a dick," I said, conceding the point, "but you had no right doing that." Ross turned onto his side as well and he smiled sourly.
"No, I didn't. But it was the only thing other than to hit you. You told me to fuck off. No one tells me to do that and just get away with it."
"How butch," I said, yawning. He grinned and reached behind him, turning off the light. Then he returned to his original position; on his side, facing me. I closed my eyes because I didn't want to look at him, even at his contours; why was he lying so close. The bed was roomy enough. Damn it... why did he have to be so damn handsome. Why couldn't he be anyone else but my employer? "Mark?" he whispered, suddenly.
"Hmm?"
"Tomorrow... you wanna try a more difficult slope?" His voice skipped a little, sounding low. I opened my eyes and saw his glimmer in the dark. Why did he sound so weird?
"Sure. If I can get out of bed, that is," I whispered back. He snickered and then held his breath for a few seconds before he spoke again.
"Just the two of us, okay?"p> "Sure..." I answered, slowly.
"Great. G'night."
"Night."
**********
That night I experienced a dream that can only be described as highly erotic. It started pretty much the same as earlier in the evening, only it was just Ross and me. I did get a little tipsy and went to bed, but instead of the whole scene that had followed in real life, it took a different course there. Instead, he helped me undress, touching every revealed part of my body with his hands. And when he pulled up my T-shirt, he kissed my chest and then up, to my throat, chin and finally my mouth. Then he pressed his lips onto mine and slowly lowered himself half on top of me. I wrapped my arms around to his broad back and his hands freely roamed my body, creeping down my belly and into my shorts, and finally touching my.... I started awake at that point, feeling hot. My heart was beating very fast and yeah... I had a hard-on. I was lying in the middle of the bed, alone, and bright light was streaming through the window. Normally, I'd beat the monkey after a dream such as this, but I thought the better of it; I wouldn't put it past Ross to come in and find me in a state of climactic orgasm. Instead, I got out of bed and into the shower, locking the door behind me. In this relatively safe place, I felt at ease enough to take care of it. Release came quickly and I enjoyed the relaxing feeling as hot water and soap streamed down my body.
It was
"The others went up the mountain early. Is there some coffee left?" I shook my head, downing the last. His face fell a little and I grinned.
"Sorry," I said, but I wasn't. I guess that was obvious enough because his face fell and he stuck out his tongue.
"No you're not. Doesn't matter; I had enough when you were still rotting in bed."p> "Rotting?" I echoed. "How rude."
"I was up at seven."
"Why so early?"
"Oh, ehm... would that be because you were, I dunno, calling my name maybe?" he said, sarcastically. Oh shit. That dream... "I tried to wake you but you were completely out of it. Bad dream?"
"Obviously; you were in it," I bit back, a little annoyed with myself.
"Funny, haha," he replied, making a face. "Are you ready to go? I don't wanna wait too long to get up there or it'll be too busy." I set the mug on the bar and hopped off the chair, walking towards the stairs.
"Gimme five minutes."
**********
The five turned into fifteen but when we got to the slope, there were just five people before us so we only had to wait a few minutes. Then we went up by way of a pulling cable, all the way up. Ross turned out to be a pretty good teacher, something I hadn't really seen the day before. He had a lot of patience because, well... I was scared shitless once we were up there. It was way higher than the slope we'd been on, much steeper and more turns in it.
"I can't do this," I said, shaking my head. "No way. I'll break my legs for sure."
"Too bad, because it's the only way down. You can do it. I'll be right behind you, okay?" I shook my head vehemently. "Yes you can. Okay, I‘ll go first. We'll take it slow. And don't push off like you did yesterday, okay?" I gave another shake of my head.
"No. I can't. You go. I'll walk down."
"Don't be ridiculous. It's easy. Watch me."
"Ross, I could watch you until the cows come home; I'm not going down that slope." He narrowed his eyes at me.
"You're really scared, aren't you?"
"Seven colors of shit," I nodded. He smiled and thought for a moment.
"Alright, how about this; you grab my stick, we'll go down together. I can break if we go too fast." I looked from him to the slope and back again. It was a long way down. Then I sighed.
"Okay... but slow, okay? Very slow; old-lady-with-a-walker slow." He nodded reassuringly.
"As slow as you want. I promise, when we're down, you wanna go back up and go alone."
"I assure you; I won't," I replied, taking hold of the stick he held out to me. It turned out that he was right.
About half way down, I began to enjoy it. I guess he saw it because we picked up a bit more speed. I still clutched that stick though, but once we were down, I admitted that I would like to go again.
"See? Come on, before we have to wait in line." It was getting more crowded now.
We went for a total of five trips that morning, the last of which I finally went by myself without any help. I didn't go as fast as some of the people, who whooshed past me on the way down, but I did it by myself. It was reason enough for Ross to hug me when I got down with a triumphant grin on my face. And it got me enthusiastic enough to press my lips on his for a second. I didn't really think about it; it was just the moment, to thank him. I felt that I could thank him that way, so I didn't really give it much thought. He blinked a few times while looking at me, saying nothing; then he smiled.
"You wanna go get something to eat?"
"Yeah, I'm starving," I said, taking off the skis. "I haven't had anything yet."
"You didn't eat this morning?" he asked, frowning. I shook my head. "You have to eat something!"
"Well, you told me to hurry up, eh? Don't blame me for not eating; blame yourself." He sighed and held up his hand.
"Forget I said anything."
"You're getting the hang of it," I replied. "Never argue with me; it's useless."
"Yeah, I'm beginning to see that."