Jamie's New Hire

Jamie checked his watch as he eased his truck down the steep hill. It was light out, but still early. He didn't expect to find Adam up and moving around, despite having told him repeatedly to be ready at five. He cranked on the E-brake and turned off the engine, checking the scrap of paper to make sure he had the right address. Most of the windows in the corresponding house were lighted. Shaking his head slightly, Jamie climbed out of the truck and quickly jumped up the stairs and knocked on the dark blue door. When he didn't get a response, he figured he'd try the door. He remembered seeing him unlock it the morning he was expecting his ex, so maybe he was just in the back of the house getting ready. He turned the doorknob slowly, a little shocked to feel the door opening. He pushed the door open and stepped lightly into the house, noticing that the television was muted and the stereo on.

"Adam?" Jamie called hesitantly. "You ready, Bud?"

As he stepped further into the house, he found the man sprawled out asleep on the sofa with a few boxes of assorted oddities on the floor beside him. His glasses were crammed awkwardly between his face and a large cushion, the red marks across his face making it clear that he'd been in that position for a while. A quick look around the room showed that he was mostly moved in, but still had a few boxes of this and that to go through. Jamie bent over the back of the large sofa, nudging the young man slightly.

"Adam, come on."

Adam woke with a start, unable to sit up properly from the awkward position he had slept in. He looked up at Jamie, not sure he wanted to know how he got into the house. Instead, he removed his glasses to rub his face with his hands. "What time is it?" he asked. He replaced his glasses, only to take them off immediately when he realized that they no longer fit. He looked at the crooked frames, knowing that trying to bend them back would only cause the hinges to snap. "Fuck."

"Just after five," Jamie said."Go get dressed. We gotta take off if we're gonna get back before midnight."

Adam nodded as he tossed his mangled glasses into the coffee table. Heaving himself out of the deep sofa cushions, he stalked to the stairs, wearily making his way to the second floor. While Adam scrambled to get ready, Jamie walked around the front room to turn off various lights and electronics. He eventually made his way back to the kitchen to find it a total disaster. Despite having what Jamie could only assume to be a fully-functioning dish washer, the sink was piled full of dirty dishes, and various open boxes of snacks and cereals cluttered the counters. Jamie grimaced at the sight and flicked off the light before returning to the front room. As he looked around at the shelves of odd books and toys and gadgets, Adam came stumbling down the stairs wearing what could have easily been the same clothes he'd worn the day before. Only the shirt he was wearing the day before didn't have holes in it.

"Do you have a different shirt?" Jamie asked.

Adam frowned and looked down at his wardrobe. "What's wrong with this one?" he asked, sounding a little insulted.

Jamie looked over his entire outfit. "Uhm... it's black?" he said. "Lighter shirt, lighter pants. You don't want black."

Adam shook his head and continued toward the sofa. "I'll be fine," he said. He pulled a small roll of electrician's tape and a multi tool out of his pocket and picked his glasses back up from the coffee table. He tried to adjust the wayward temple piece on his glasses to have it predictably snap almost at once. He swore under his breath as he picked up the roll of electrician's tape and snapped off a long piece, using the thin, nimble pliers to help hold his frames in place as he taped them together.

"Why didn't you do that to mine?" Jamie asked with a light chuckle as he realized that it was something Adam had done more than once.

The young man slid the damaged frames back onto his face and reached for his boots. "Because you had a second pair." He quickly pulled his boots on, leaving them untied and grabbed his fedora and keys from a small table near the door. "Let's go," he said as he crammed the hat over his head. He quickly locked the door and the two of them walked down the steps to Jamie's truck, which had been completely cleared out in the bed, save a small bag and an electric cooler, the cord of which ran through the rear window to be plugged into the cigarette lighter.

"So, why exactly are we driving six hours to an airport?" Adam asked as Jamie navigated through the deserted surface streets. "We got one of those here."

"Well, it's not really an airport," Jamie said. "It's really more of a graveyard. You'll like it."

"Oh." He gently took off his glasses and pushed the fedora down over his face. The large bench seat in the truck wouldn't recline, so cuddling up against the locked door was the best he could come up with. Before they even reached the 101, Adam was asleep, snoring lightly over the purr of the engine.


"Adam. Hey, Adam. Wake up."

Jamie lightly shook the man back to alertness as he drove. Slightly confused, Adam tilted his hat up and picked his glasses up from his lap. "Uuhng? What is it?" When Jamie didn't respond, Adam looked out the window at the mountains that surrounded them. "Woah."

Hundreds of wind turbines covered the mountains all around them, most of them spinning wildly. Many of them seemed to be around 20 feet tall, but a handful at the summit of each rolling hill were taller than some of the buildings in downtown San Francisco. Adam pressed himself against the window, looking up at the looming marvels of modern technology. Adam had seen a similar, albeit smaller farm on the 580 outside of Livermore, but fewer than twenty turbines ever seemed to be operational.

"Man, I wish you'd have told me. I would have grabbed my camera," he said with a light chuckle.

He looked out at the seemingly endless wind farm for a few more minutes before settling back in his seat. A quick check of his watch told him that it was just after eight-thirty. He yawned and reached up for his glasses again.

"Hey, before you go back to sleep," Jamie said before the young man could re-situate himself. "There's a folder in the glove box. It's got some forms for a new project I'd like to get you on."

Adam glanced sideways at him before reaching for the glove box. Sitting on top of everything was a small manila folder with a decent-sized stack of papers in it. He pulled it out and began looking over the top page, glancing up through the windshield more often than at the paper. Jamie ignored him, content to drive to the noise of the engine. They were still a few minutes from the airport, and if reading slowly would keep Adam quiet for the rest of the trip, it wasn't a problem for the older man. The drive along highway 58 was always his favourite part. Traffic was always sparse as the lanes wove through the gently rolling mountains before suddenly flattening out to become endless desert.

"Jamie," Adam said quietly as the highway began the gentle descent out of the mountains. "Can I roll down the window?"

"We've got the AC--" He quickly glanced over to Adam, the man's already fair complexion now totally devoid of colour. His eyes were closed tightly as he held his and over his mouth. "Yeah, go for it," Jamie said, reaching down to turn off the air conditioner.

Adam rolled down the window and pulled his fedora off, placing it on his lap before leaning his head as far out the window as his safety belt would allow. The wind on his face was surprisingly hot, but it still helped get rid of the nasty pukey feeling in his stomach.

"Why didn't you tell me you get motion sick?" Jamie asked. "Is that why you were sleeping?"

Adam shrugged weakly. He wanted to close his eyes, but at this point watching the road ahead was less stressful.

"Is that it?" he asked weakly as they cleared the mountains, and began driving across the desert. Several hundred massive tail fins peeked over the meek scrub that dotted the landscape.

"Yep," Jamie responded. "Remember, we're here to get parts for the project. Anything you want, you need to pay for yourself."

Adam nodded. He'd set aside a few hundred dollars for the trip out to the desert, having been previously told about all the crazy stuff the old airport had. Jamie turned off of the highway, the last few minutes of the drive going very slowly for Adam. Once through the main gate, Jamie stopped the truck and killed the engine. He quickly got out and walked across the hard sandy ground to a small building a few meters away. While Jamie was off doing whatever it was that Jamie did, Adam crawled out of the truck, grabbing his hat as he found his footing. He pulled a bottle of water out of the small cooler in the bed of the truck and took a small drink, hoping that it would help his stomach. As he nursed the bottled water, he looked around the airport and all the old dead aircraft that lay out in the morning sun. Some of them were still in one piece, but most were at least partially dismantled. He started to wander off to see what he could find, but remembered that he was here for work, and should probably stay near the truck until Jamie returned. He finished off his water and tossed the bottle into the cab of the truck and turned around to see Jamie walking out of the small building with a man Adam could only assume to be the maintainer of the airport. He pointed off into the distance, and after a quick handshake, Jamie returned to the truck.

"Get in," he said. "The stuff we need is a little bit away, and I'm not carrying it back to the truck."

The two hopped back into the cab, and Jamie drove slowly through the various scattered airplanes. They finally came to an old Boeing that was missing most of its shell, and Jamie killed the engine, again stepping out into the sun. He reached back into the bed and pulled out the duffel bag, quickly unzipping it. Looking over the older man's shoulder, Adam realized that this was a special tool kit for whenever Jamie needed airplane pieces. Three huge drills, complete with various odd bits, and a diamond blade rotary saw covered up most of the other small tools and other assorted items that had been no doubt left in the bag since the last time Jamie was out there.

"We only need nine of the seats out of this thing," Jamie explained as he pulled out two of the drills. "I think we can replicate the rest in the shop, so take lots of pictures." He pulled an old Canon camera out of the bag and handed over a few rolls of film. "If we get this done quickly enough, I'll stop in Tehachapi and let you take pictures."

Adam grinned widely and bound off to the giant steel bird, wandering around it for a few moments as he looked for a way up. He finally wrapped the camera's strap around his neck and jumped up to the long, tilted wing, barely able to pull himself up. After jumping up and down on the wing a few times, he ran across it to the cabin and jumped through what should have been a solid shell. Up toward the cockpit, the interior was still mostly intact, which made for a logical place to start taking photos.

"Use the whole roll!" Jamie called from the ground below. "It needs to be developed tomorrow morning."

"You got it!" Adam called down. He quickly looked over the camera's many buttons and functions to see how the gadget worked before snapping off shots at the interior paneling of the jetliner. As he played with the amateur zoom function on the old Canon, Jamie threw the duffel bag up onto the wing and hoisted himself up, before looking over the seats, inspecting them for any tears or stains or anything else that would make them unsatisfactory for filming. After marking the seats acceptable with gaffer's tape, he continued to move down the partially-disassembled aisle to the next small row of seats. He quickly glanced over his shoulder at Adam, unable to hide a small head shake as he watched the young man enthusiastically snapping photos of the small vent systems above the seats. Watching the young man work the zoom in on the small details on the flooring, Jamie was certain that Adam hadn't realized he'd just been given busy work. Jamie already had dozens of 8x10's back at the shop, but he couldn't help but wonder if maybe Adam's shots might be better than the ones he'd gone out of his way to purchase. Shaking his head again, Jamie went back to inspecting the seats for damage.

Once he'd found what he was sure were the best nine in the cabin, he put the small roll of gaffer's tape back in his bag and pulled out one of the drills.

"Hey, Adam!" he called out, amazed that the young man was still snapping photos. "Come on. Time for the hard part!"

Adam snapped one more photo before turning around to walk out from what was left of the cabin.

"I know you handed me three rolls, but I only got to the second one," he said as he wrapped the strap back around his neck.

"It's fine," Jamie answered off-handedly. He passed Adam one of the large drills. "I marked off the nine that I want. I know they're just gonna get blown up and covered in that gelatin crap anyway, but those are the best-looking seats left."

Adam nodded and bent to put the camera and film rolls back into the duffel bag. "So, the ones with the tape, right?" he asked.

Jamie nodded. He fitted a battery to his droll and got down to the floor, with Adam quick to follow his example.

"Jamie, I think you have the wrong drill bit, here," Adam said as he looked down at the bolts on the floor.

"We're not taking the entire row," Jamie said as he got down to the stained floor. "I just want this seat in the middle. The other two are torn."

Adam frowned and put his drill down on the floor. "That's gonna take forty five minutes to disassemble. And you want nine?"

Jamie sighed and shook his head. "Yes, I want nine," he said. "You expected this to be easy? I didn't bring you along to keep me company. Now come on." He began unscrewing the bolts holding the middle seat to the frame, but stopped after a few seconds. "I marked all the ones I want with tape. The quicker we get this done, the sooner we can go home."

Adam sighed defeatedly as he got to his feet and moved down the aisle to the next marked seat. Happily, it was on the outside of the row, so he didn't have to climb underneath the frame. After watching Jamie work for a few moments, he took off his hat began unscrewing the bolts holding the seat into place, making a conscious effort to stack them all in a neat little pile as not to lose anything. He worked around the entire seat before trying to lift it, finding much to his dismay that it still refused to budge. Glancing over at Jamie once more, he realized that he'd missed something important under the seat itself. He crawled under the frame, finding a hidden row of bolts holding everything in place. He quickly unscrewed the remaining bolts and nudged the seat, finding it much easier to move.

"Jamie," he said as he put all of the bolts into a small bucket. "Where do you want it?"

"Out on the wing for now," Jamie replied without looking out from under the row of seats he had wedged himself beneath. "Then why don't you go ahead and free up three frames for me."

Adam frowned at the older man before moving the seat out to the wing of the plane. He tried to situate it in a way that it wouldn't fall over with the gentle curve of the wing, but quickly gave up and positioned it so it couldn't possibly fall any lower. Sulking, he moved back up to the end of the aisle, picking up his drill on the way. Without a word toward Jamie, he dropped down to the ground and began quickly unfastening the bolts holding nasty old seats to flaking steel frames. Rust and paint flecks fell onto his face as he worked, irritating him even further. As the oxidized dusting continued to fall from the frame, Adam turned his head and spat into the carpeting near his shoulder. If anything, his saliva might actually clean the rancid aisle.

He freed one seat, forcefully knocking it to the side before moving further under the frame to work on the middle seat. As he worked on the seats, he became acutely aware of the rising temperature, but chalked it up to manual labour and ignored the stinging sweat in his eyes.

The more he worked under the seats, the more he began cursing his near-sightedness. Despite his glasses working against him in such tight spaces, he didn't dare remove them, for fear of getting rust flecks in his eyes. The idea of asking if there were any safety goggles around had crossed his mind, but blurred vision seemed marginally more desirable than talking to Jamie at the moment. Instead, he opted to just blindly remove the seats, allowing the bolts to lay where they fell. Not worrying about losing parts made the process go more quickly, and it wasn't long before he was able to shove the second seat free, letting it crash to the floor.

"Adam, don't break anything," Jamie warned. "You break, you buy."

Sneering at the older man, Adam moved further under the frame to access the last seat in the row. As the desert sun continued to rise, heating up everything that wasn't hiding under shadows, he began to realize that Jamie had probably been out to this airport before, and actually knew what he was talking about when he warned against wearing black. Adam considered taking off his T-shirt, but realized that getting his belly sunburned would only get him more ridicule. Ignoring the rising heat, he pushed himself further under the last seat and began working the bolts loose. With each seat, the work seemed to go more quickly, and in just a few minutes, he had the frame completely empty.

"I can't take the frame off the ground," Adam reminded the other man as he got back to his feet. Jamie said something, but his words were lost on Adam, the sudden rush of blood to his head throwing everything out of focus. He stumbled back, reaching out for a handhold to keep himself from falling out of the plane. His fingers found nothing, and he fell backwards into one of the seats that now sat in the aisle.

"Jesus, Adam!" Jamie scrambled to his feet and with one quick bound was nearly on top of the younger man. He reached down to help Adam to his feet, but decided better and instead just guided him off of the seat and onto the floor. "You alright, Buddy?" Jamie asked as he lightly slapped Adam's unshaven face, attempted to force the young man to focus on something.

"I... I think," Adam muttered. He tried to get up, but couldn't find the balance.

"Adam, you're not sweating," Jamie noticed aloud.

"So?"

Jamie shook his head. "That's bad, Adam. You need to drink something." He stepped back over to his bag and pulled out a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap before handing it off to Adam. "You need to learn to slow down," he lectured. "It's really hot out here, and it's not even ten o'clock. I appreciate that you just want to get this done, but this is one of those times when I'd like it better if you paced yourself instead."

Adam nodded, making a conscious effort to not drink the entire bottle at once. As Jamie walked back to the seat he was working on, Adam checked his watch and realized that he'd been working for over an hour. Jamie had since moved to a different aisle, but between the two of them, they'd only completely removed six seats. He looked up at the deep sapphire sky and sighed deeply.

"Jamie, do you have another shirt I can wear?" he asked, trying his best not to sound completely pathetic.

"In the bag," Jamie replied. "I knew you'd probably need one, but I didn't expect that you'd wait until you passed out to finally ask."

Adam shook his head, not wanting to admit his own stupidity as he slowly got back to his feet. He made his way to the duffel bag in the aisle and dug through all the tools and water bottles until he found a plastic grocery bag. Riffling through the thin plastic yielded a white work shirt, as well as everything Jamie normally carried in his pockets. He started to put the white shirt on over his own, but before his fingers even found the first button, he realized that two layers would probably defeat the purpose. He tossed the shirt down on the seat next to him and pulled the tattered black t-shirt over his head, letting it drop to the floor. Even as he donned Jamie's work shirt and worked the buttons, he realized that he was going to get very badly burned through the thin fabric. Frowning at the freckles that covered his arms, Adam returned to the rear of the aircraft to free up a second frame.

As Adam waited for Jamie to dismantle the last seat, he wandered up to the cockpit, curious to see what was actually behind the door. The small room was exactly like they were in the movies, with more gadgets and gauges than were probably in Adam's entire house. He dropped himself down into the pilot's seat, rocking the entire bird back and forth.

"Be careful!" Jamie shouted.

"I know!" Adam shouted before Jamie could lecture further. "I break, I buy."

He took the controls, feeling the wing flaps straining to work as he threw the levers forward. Keeping the plane in the mock dive, he reached up and began flipping switches, not sure what any of them were for.

"Hey, Jamie!" He called out. "How much room will the truck have after we get all your stuff back there?"

After a moment, Jamie appeared in the doorway of the cockpit.

"What did you find?" he asked.

Adam leaned back into the seat as he turned to look at Jamie. "I want this chair for my studio," he said, making a conscious effort to not sound like he was begging. "It's comfy."

Jamie sighed. "We'll see if there's room, okay?" Without waiting for Adam to reply, he turned and walked back toward the rear of the plane. "Hey," he shouted back at Adam. "Come help me get this stuff in the truck!"

The young man eagerly jumped up, running back to where Jamie stood. "Okay," he said, bouncing slightly. "How we gonna do this?"

Jamie shook his head, unable to figure out why Adam was able to get so excited over the strangest things. "If you want that pilot's seat, you need to make it fit," he explained. "Get back down there, and we'll lower everything down from the wing."

Adam nodded and rushed out to the lowest part of the giant wing, which was still over five feet from the ground. Without pausing, he jumped down, hitting the hard sand ground with his knees, growling in pain as he got back to his feet.

"You alright?" Jamie asked, cautiously peering over the side of the plane.

"Yeah," Adam said. He walked back over to the wing and waited for Jamie to hoist one of the seat frames across the wing. He walked slowly across the bobbing platform, clutching tightly to the aluminum frame.

"Here," he said, slowly passing the frame down to Adam. Adam carefully lowered the frame down and walked the short distance to Jamie's pick-up. "And don't scratch my paint!"

"No, I won't scratch your paint," Adam said as he hoisted the frame up into the bed. He pushed it all the way back to the cab before jumping out again, ready for Jamie to pass down the second frame.

He was handed another frame, and quickly took it over to the truck, delighted at how well the molded aluminum stacked up. He rushed back over to the plane, hoping against hope that the seats would stack as nicely, and leave plenty of room for the pilot's seat. With each part that he carried across the wing, Jamie became the tiniest bit more at ease with the idea of only a thin metal plank holding him above the ground. Finally able to focus on something besides the black line painted on the wing, Jamie glanced over at his truck, amazed at how much room was still in the bed. He looked back over his shoulder at the few seats remaining before passing the cumbersome prop down to the waiting man.

"Adam, there should be room, if you want to get that seat," Jamie said.

Grinning widely, Adam nodded and rushed back over to the truck to load up the chair that had been handed down to him. He had it situated and was waiting beneath the wing before Jamie was able to return from the cabin.

"Two more," Jamie informed as he passed the seat down. "Then you can come up and get that thing for yourself.

"Cool!" Adam replied before returning to the truck. He rushed to pack the rest of the cargo into the truck before climbing back up onto the wing to fetch his own treasures. "Be right back!" He picked up his drill and the bucket of bits from the floor on his way back to the cockpit, barely slowing as he bound over the duffel bag.

Jamie shook his head as he moved back toward the cabin. "That kid's gonna seriously hurt himself if he doesn't slow down," he said to himself as he sat down in one of the torn seats. He looked up at wispy clouds forming in the sky before glancing down at his watch, delighted at the time. If traffic held up on the five, they could easily be back to the bay before seven o'clock. Glancing back up at the sky, he could feel the airplane rocking slightly as Adam struggled to free the seat from the cockpit. After some minor swearing, he pushed the door open and walked back toward the duffel bag on the floor, returning his drill and the bits.

"Wanna help me?" he asked. "I can't figure out how to get it through the door."

Jamie scoffed lightly as he got to his feet, following Adam up the rows to the cockpit. "I think we need to tilt it," he said. "It's too wide, but it should fit sideways."

Adam looked at the seat, nodding in agreement. "Yeah," he said. "I'll get this part, here."

The two of them both lifted the heavy chair, tilting it as far as they could without having the whole thing fall to the floor. Adam slowly backed his end out of the door, careful to not get the seat caught on the wall. Once cleared of the tiny doorway, they put the seat down to reposition it for Jamie to carry back over to the wing.

"Get down there," he said, lifting the heavy seat so that it cleared the rows in the cabin.

Adam rushed over to the wing, taking the time to climb off, rather than jumping and risking hurting himself again. By the time he had both feet on the ground, Jamie was waiting above him, ready to pass the cumbersome chair down. Adam gingerly lowered it to the ground, not sure if he could carry it the full distance himself.

"Where's the bag?" he asked, knowing that Jamie wouldn't hop down just to help him move the chair.

Jamie turned around wordlessly and walked back across the wing to fetch up the duffel bag, as well as anything else Adam had dug out and left on the floor. After a few minutes, he returned to the tip of the wing and gently lowered the bag down for Adam to take. The young man walked over to the truck, tucking the bag beneath the seats. He took extra care to make sure the bag wouldn't fly loose before returning to the plane as Jamie climbed down off of the wing.

"It's too heavy, isn't it?" Jamie asked, looking at the seat.

Adam could feel himself blushing. He wanted to take the damn thing over to the truck, just to show Jamie how heavy the seat wasn't. "Maybe," he admitted.

Jamie laughed slightly as he shook his head. Adam braced himself for the lecture on how he wanted it, so he should be the one to move it, but Jamie picked it up with some small effort and hefted it over to the truck. He carefully situated it in the bed and closed the tailgate shut before turning back to face Adam. "What level's your studio on?" he asked.

"First," Adam replied quickly. "Thank god."

"Okay," Jamie said absently. He reached into his pocket and fished out his keys. "Get in," he said, handing the keys over to Adam.

The young man looked down at the ring of keys in his hand as though it were some strange new species. "Huh?" was all he could think to say.

"If you drive, you won't get sick," Jamie explained. "I'd rather have you behind the wheel than puking on my floor."

Adam's face grew even hotter as he climbed into the cab. Once they were both situated, Jamie guided Adam back to the main entrance, where they were met by the same man who had greeted Jamie earlier that morning.

"Jesus Christ, Jamie!" he said as he leaned against the passenger door. "You took apart my entire plane!"

"Most of those seats looked like shit, Jack," Jamie replied. He twisted around to look through the rear window, as though checking to make sure nothing had flown away from the bed. "Nine coach seats and three mounts," he said. "The pilot seat's on a separate bill."

Jack peered in the window at Adam, who was too busy playing with the sun visor to care what the man standing outside thought of him. Pulling a small calculator from his back pocket, Jack quickly added up Jamie's total. "Thirteen-fifty," he said.

Jamie popped open the glove compartment and pulled out a small black checkbook. He quickly filled in all the information before carefully tearing the small sheet from the book and handing it over to Jack. The man took the slip without a second glance and pocketed it.

"What about you," he said, peering in the window. "Just the captain's seat?" he asked.

Adam nodded. "Yeah."

"From the same bird?"

Adam nodded again. "Yeah."

Jack glanced back at the bed of the truck before returning his gaze to Adam. "Three even."

Adam nodded and situated himself to be able to reach into his back pocket.

"Cash only," Jack said sternly.

"But Jamie just wrote you a check," he protested.

"I know Jamie," Jack said. "I've never seen your face before in my life. Cash only."

Adam sneered and pulled out his wallet, quickly thumbing out three hundred-dollar notes. He handed them over to Jamie, who passed them out the window to Jack. Another sideways glance in the window, and Adam was convinced that the man was going to hold the notes up to the sun to make sure they were real. He instead waved them off, returning to the small building by the fence.

"Adam, you had the cash," Jamie said as Adam followed the road back to the highway. "What was the big deal?"

Adam shook his head. "It was the principle," he said. He glanced over at Jamie, able to tell immediately that the older man had no idea what the problem was. "Never mind," he said.

"Did you still want to take those pictures?" Jamie asked. "I've got extra film back there, if you want to stop in town, here."

"What?" Adam asked, taking a moment to figure out what he was being asked. "Oh. Yeah! Can we?"

Jamie nodded. "Yeah. We have to fill up, anyway. Take the next exit."

Ω Ω Ω


The patron saint of freeway travel seemed to have been in a cheerful mood, getting them back up to the bay without a single wreck on the northbound five. The south, however, was backed up from Highway 46 to Coalinga. Rather than dick around with the mess on the 580, Jamie directed Adam to hop Highway 152 across to the 101, through San Jose. The route was longer, but evening traffic into Oakland was never something to be taken lightly. Once met with the familiarity of the 101, Adam was able to navigate his way back to Market Street, the last hurdle of the trip being avoiding stupid tourist drivers who tried to turn left. Nearly blinded by the hateful evening sun, Adam managed to wind his way back home, parking the truck on the hill outside his house.

"You need help getting this thing inside?" Jamie asked as he climbed out onto the street. As he was finally able to stand up straight for the first time since Tehachapi, every bone in his back popped loudly.

"Please," Adam said, yawning slightly. He locked the door and tossed the keys back over to Jamie before walking to the rear of the truck to lower the tailgate. He fished his own keys out of his pocket, biting down on his house key before helping Jamie slide the seat out of the bed of the truck. They slowly carried it up the stairs, pausing long enough for Adam to unlock the door.

"On the rug, here," he said, guiding Jamie to where he wanted the seat. "I don't want this thing fucking up my floor."

Jamie glanced down at the badly scuffed up wood floor, not able to discern whether or not the young man was joking.

"So," Adam said nervously, his fingers gently tugging on the hem of the white shirt he still wore. "Did you want to..." What was the proper etiquette in this situation? "...s-stick around for a while?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure," Jamie replied.

Adam nodded before making his way to the kitchen. "I'm gonna get a drink. Do you want anything?"

"No, I'm fine." He wandered around the living room, taking a little bit of time to wonder what everything on the shelves was supposed to be. There were a fair amount of technical manuals mixed in with the books by Salvatore, Asimov, Abnett, and dozens of authors Jamie had never even heard of. The books seemed to have been placed on the shelves as they were pulled out of boxes, with no possible logic behind their placement. Hearing Adam making his way back to the living room, Jamie picked up the remote control from the coffee table and settled himself in the corner of the large sectional. As he flipped on the television, Adam wandered back in from the kitchen sitting on the far opposite end of the sofa.

"The channel up button sticks," he informed Jamie as he used his belt buckle to pry off the top of his beer bottle. He tossed the cap down onto the coffee table, settling back into the cushions. "If it does, just pound on it. It'll un-stick." He watched the television screen as the channels flipped by quickly, barely having time to register what was happening in the flashes of each television show. "I haven't had time to set up the DVD player, or else we could watch a movie," he said. "But it's Saturday, so something should be on one of the cable channels."

"How many channels you got?" Jamie asked as he flipped through the network prime time slop.

Adam shrugged. "A lot? I dunno."

Jamie finally settled on something, resting the remote down on the coffee table. They watched the badly-written cop drama in silence, not even bothering to comment on the blatant plot holes and poor research. Adam finished his beer and leaned forward to put the empty bottle on the coffee table, but changed his mind, getting up instead. He made his way out to the kitchen to put the empty bottle in the sink before returning to the living room. He sat back down on the sofa, this time in the middle, rather than up against the arm rest. A nervous glance over to the man at his left seemed to suggest that his change in seating choice wasn't even noticed. He frowned slightly, leaning back into the cushions to get comfortable. He tried to focus on figuring out who offed the pathetic sports gambler, but couldn't seem to force himself to pay attention to the bad writing. After a few minutes, he got back up to return to the kitchen to fish around in the refrigerator. Not looking for anything in particular, and not finding anything at all, he returned back to the living room. He tried to sit himself closer to Jamie, but bailed at the last second and returned to the middle of the sofa.

"Everything alright?" Jamie asked, glancing over slightly.

"Yeah," Adam replied. "Just..... I dunno."

He watched the detectives scramble through the plot twist before starting to get back up, but was stopped as Jamie reached out and grabbed his arm. With almost no effort, he pulled the young man back down to the sofa, dragging him the short distance across the cushions before he was leaned up against Jamie's chest. Adam was both embarrassed and pissed off, yet had to admit to himself that he had no desire to move. He leaned back into Jamie's chest, feeling oddly content with the situation. He closed his eyes, fighting off the urge to fall asleep right there. It was a few minutes before he even realized that Jamie was gently rubbing a hand against his chest. He nuzzled up against the oder man's shoulder, unable to hold back a light moan. Jamie seemed to have taken the sound as an okay to go further, moving his hand farther down to Adam's waistband. Inhaling sharply, Adam repositioned himself slightly, moving more onto his back. Jamie did similarly, pushing Adam into a seated position briefly so he could stretch out along the sofa. He leaned back into the corner of the sectional, pulling the young man back to lay against his chest. Using his leg to pin Adam's against the back of the sofa, he let his hand wander down to Adam's belt, easily unfastening the buckle. As his hands worked at the zipper, Adam realized that even if he wanted to, he was completely unable to move from the position he'd been wrangled into. He was curious to see what would happen if he did try to object, but afraid that Jamie would stop, he leaned further against the other man and arched his back, allowing easier access into his shorts. Once Jamie had his zipper undone, he paused shortly to wonder where the hell Adam had located shorts decorated with disco dancing frogs.

"What?" Adam asked when he realized that Jamie had stopped.

The older man shook his head as he slid nimble fingers underneath the elastic band of the stupid boxers. "Nothing," he said.

He slowly worked Adam's already stiffening cock, daring to move his fingers lower with each stroke.

"Do you trim down there?" he asked as he began to fondle Adam's balls.

Adam nodded, trying to divert brain cells to form a reply. "Yeah," he said. "Sometimes."

Jamie hummed lightly as he repositioned himself once more, bringing himself close enough to the young man for his whiskers to tickle Adam's neck. He slid his other hand down Adam's shorts, taking his cock with a tight grip as his other hand began to explore further. As his fingertip gently rubbed against the young man's ass, he could feel Adam tense slightly. He paused, but when no objections were made, began exploring further. With his left hand working the ginger's prick, he used his right hand to fondle Adam's ass. Without a moment's hesitation, he moved further into the shorts, using his finger to gently work the tight hole. He felt the young man tense up again, so Jamie bent down, taking Adam's ear in his mouth. He explored with his tongue and tugged on the gold hoop with his teeth, eliciting a small cry from the man. With him already occupied on two fronts, he was able to slip his finger into Adam's asshole, this time met with a light thrust upward. Adam continued to whimper as he was overloaded with sensation, only to be surprised when Jamie stopped all together.

"Wh---why... stopped?" he asked, unable to kick start his brain into forming a coherent sentence.

"I'll finish you off, but you have to do something for me," Jamie said.

Adam nodded and awkwardly rolled over, not needing to be told what Jamie wanted. He had never before fully appreciated just how soft the cushions on the sofa were until he felt his cock rubbing up against the faux-velvet. He whimpered slightly as he clumsily worked the zipper on the other man's khakis. He freed the man's dick from his briefs, and without hesitation, took it in his mouth, able to take it nearly to the hilt, his own need to get off somehow overriding his gag reflex. He began exploring with his tongue, flicking at the tip of Jamie's shaft violently, causing shudders to run through the man's entire body. His hand began to wander down to Adam's head, but Jamie thought better, instead stroking the younger man's red hair once before resting his hand on his shoulder.

Adam continued to flick his tongue and gently bite down on the cock in his mouth, letting his own dick grind lightly against the soft cushions, but forced himself to stop as he realized the very real potential of staining the upholstery. He took Jamie's dick as far as he could once more, sucking hard at the member, when he felt something warm suddenly flood his throat. He wrenched his head up, hacking loudly at the wood floor below them. He could feel something -- he knew exactly what that "something" was -- rolling off his tongue and catching in his teeth.

"You alright?" Jamie asked, holding Adam up by his shoulders. Adam nodded, not wanting to admit how truly horrible jhiz actually tasted. "Sorry," Jamie said. "I should have warned you."

Adam cleared his throat and spat onto the floor, knowing that wood was far easier to clean up than fabric. "Gimme a minute," he said as he lifted his glasses. He rubbed his eyes dry with his hand and rolled back over to lean against Jamie's chest.

"Sorry," Jamie repeated.

He leaned down and began teasing Adam's ear with his tongue once more, feeling the young man relax again almost instantly. He worked with his tongue a few moments before slowly letting his hands wander back down to the ginger's cock. He began stroking lightly, bringing the erection back up fully. As Adam began to pant, Jamie let his right hand wander back down to the young man's ass, gently fondling before he worked his fingers back into the hole. Adam whimpered and arched into the sensation, bringing his hand up to grip the back of Jamie's neck. He lightly thrust into the stroking at his cock, barely aware that Jamie had begun using three fingers in his ass. Panting wildly, Adam began to furiously work his jeans off and tossed them on the floor, and freed one leg from his shorts. Without bothering to kick them completely off, he twisted himself slightly so he could open his legs wider, allowing Jamie better access. He wasn't sure of he wanted to fuck Jamie, but he was definitely growing more and more curious to see how far the other man wanted to go. He glanced quickly toward the stairs, contemplating taking things to his bedroom. He realized that he was too late to say anything when he felt himself being pushed forward. Jamie leaned him against the arm rest, placing a hand on Adam's back. He paused again, waiting for an objection, but when none came, he leaned in close to the young man. After quickly removing his khakis and positioning himself, he began to slowly slide his cock into the ginger's ass, working carefully as not to hurt the boy. When he began to feel resistance against his dick, he slid back until he was almost completely out before pushing back in, able to go the smallest bit further. Adam cried out loudly as his fingers dug into the arm rest, not totally sure what to make of the entirely new sensation. There was hardly any pain, but the idea that he was being screwed by another guy was a complete mindfuck. He whimpered loudly with each thrust as Jamie worked his cock deeper and deeper, until he finally was able to slide in to the hilt. After a few more slow thrusts to make sure he wasn't hurting, he began to pick up the pace, making Adam's whimpers even louder. Adam bent down and bit hard on the arm rest of the sofa, hoping to be able to muffle his own cries. Jamie held tightly to Adam's hip, letting his other hand wander back around to Adam's dick. Resting his hand just above, he pounded into the young man's ass a few more times before finally reaching down to pull at the stiff member. He began to unload into Adam's ass as he felt the ginger's own warm cum flow over his fingers. Giving one last whimper, Adam slumped over the arm of the chair, panting heavily. Pulling out, Jamie leaned against the young man's back for a moment before getting to his feet. Trying not to stumble, he made his way back to the kitchen, returning shortly with clean hands a dish towel.

As Adam cleaned himself off, Jamie slid his khakis back on and took his original spot in the corner of the large sectional. Adam slid back into his shorts and slid over next to Jamie, resting his head on the other man's shoulder.

"Where did you learn to do that thing with your tongue?" Jamie asked as the younger man got settled.

Adam shrugged. "I've been reading...stuff," he replied hazily.

Jamie looked down at him, realizing that he was already falling asleep. He took the man's already broken glasses and sat them on the coffee table before pushing a few buttons on his watch.

"Adam," Jamie said, gently nudging the younger man. "Hey, come on. I gotta go."

"Huh?" Adam looked around, not remembering having fallen asleep. "Go where?"

Jamie shook his head as he reached over for Adam's glasses, placing them lightly in the man's hand. "Home," he said. "I told Irene we'd be getting back into town around midnight." The hurt look on Adam's face wasn't lost on the older man, but he stood up anyway. "Listen. As much as I know you'd like me to stay, I can't. I have to go home."

Adam nodded, realizing for the first time exactly what made the whole thing weird. Jamie was married, and had been for a very long time. "Yeah, okay," he said, knowing that arguing wouldn't accomplish a damn thing. He leaned into the corner of the sofa, also knowing full well that looking pathetic wouldn't make Jamie change his mind either.

"Hey," Jamie said as he positioned his beret on his head. "Next weekend, she's going out to the Mojave for a star party. She's been doing it every month for years. I promise I'll stay with you then, okay?"

Adam nodded. "Okay," he said.

He watched as Jamie let himself out, locking the door from the inside. Adam lay on the sofa for a few more minutes before he finally trudged upstairs, the sick feeling in his stomach worse than the last time he'd tried a one-night stand. At least then, he got to pretend that someone would be there the next morning.