Jamie's New Hire

seven


Adam pulled himself out of bed two hours before his alarm normally went off. He reached over to his night stand, flipping the switch on his clock and picking up his badly beaten Buddy Holly glasses. As he slid the loose frames onto his face, he shuffled into the attached bathroom, certain that the boys had brought home some sort of flu bug from their mother's. He coughed into the sink before looking up at the mirror, sighing at his reflection. The congested feeling that gripped his chest was easily ignored as he ran his fingers through his hair, appalled with himself for having allowed it to get so long. As he stood his hair up with his fingertips, he sighed angrily. Unless the mirror was lying to him, which he highly doubted, his hairline had definitely gotten higher. He hated to admit to himself that he was losing his hair. Just one more thing he didn't need to deal with. He'd been having enough trouble trying to find women willing to date him, and going bald couldn't possibly make the situation any easier. Chicks don't screw bald men. They only time they do is if they're married to one, but even then, it's probably not likely.

Adam growled to himself as he realized the awful catch-22 he'd soon be caught in. He tried to tell himself that it was just stress manifesting itself in the form of a receding hairline, but science knows that it's testosterone -- not stress -- that causes the problem. He knew that he wouldn't get laid because he was losing his hair, and he'd keep losing his hair because he wouldn't be getting laid. The only surefire way to prevent the problem is castration, which is never an option. Maybe if he buzzed it all off, the problem wouldn't be as evident. He opened the counter below the sink to find that his clippers weren't there. Probably hadn't been unpacked yet. Heaving a sigh, he stalked down to the living room and began digging through one of the remaining boxes that had been stacked up against the wall. After a few seconds, he pulled out a blue plastic box and took it back upstairs to his bathroom. As he pulled the clippers out of the box, he considered for a brief moment taking his hair all the way down, but decided to use take it down to a one, instead. No sense in getting a sunburn on his scalp. He tossed his glasses into the sink and quickly attached the guard and began getting rid of his troublesome hair. He wasn't even going to dick around with the tapers. Just take it all off. After finishing his hasty haircut, he figured he might as well clean up the red fuzz on his chin. He quickly changed attachments and shortened everything to the same length, pleased that his appearance had improved; if only just a tiny bit. He could clean up everything else with his Bic later, as he didn't have to be into the shop for another three hours. After quickly packing everything away into the box and tucking it away under the sink, he started up the shower. No sense in going around scratching at himself all morning.

Ω Ω Ω


"Are you sure you want to do it that way?" Adam asked, looking down at the plans for their robot's drivetrain, which Jamie had previously scribbled out on a small piece of blueprint paper.

Jamie shrugged. "It seemed like the easiest way to do it," he replied. "Why?"

Adam picked up the silver paint pen from the table and quickly drew a coffee mug-sized circle on the paper. "Well, I was just thinking that we could actually cut back on the weight if we used a two-wheel system instead of four wheels," he said. He drew two small ovals slightly off-centre in the circle to help illustrate his point. "Like, move the motor farther back, like this, and then just put a swivel up front, like this." He drew a small circle to show Jamie what he meant.

Jamie leaned over Adam's shoulder to look at the design and took the pen from the younger man's hand. "If we only use one up here, it wouldn't need to be a swivel, I don't think," he said as he marked a dot on Adam's scribbled diagram. "Those things can really fuck up steering. And I had the motor in the centre, because it needs to be able to fit. It won't fit back here."

Adam bit his lip as he looked down at the plans, which had already changed countless times since Jamie asked him to help out. "What if, instead of one big motor, you used two small ones? One for each wheel. Like drill motors or something. That would give us more weight for armor, I think."

Jamie capped the pen and tossed it down on the table. "You willing to sacrifice your drill?" he asked.

Adam nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Well, not the one I use here, but I've got a few more at home."

He picked up the pen again and tried to scribble down a visual, to confirm that he knew what Adam was talking about. "We'll try it," he conceded. "But I don't think they're gonna be powerful enough."

Humming to himself, Adam looked back down at all of the plans and diagrams spread across the table, trying to position what he was looking at so Jamie could also see from over his shoulder. No one had warned him that building a combat-ready robot would be such an intricate balancing act, but it was a challenge that he knew would force him into pushing harder. Whether it wound up working, or failing miserably, it would still be an experience that he'd be able to learn from.

"Do you cut your own hair?" Jamie asked suddenly.

"Yeah," Adam said, still going over the preliminary schematics. "Why?" He could feel something pulling on the back of his head.

"You missed a few back here," Jamie answered.

"Pull it out," the red-head answered simply. "Go on. I can handle it."

He expected Jamie to ask if he was sure, but instead, he yanked on whatever Adam had managed to miss in his haste.

"Ow! Jamie!" Adam shrieked as he rubbed the spot where hair had been forcefully removed from his scalp. "Jeez, that fucking hurt."

"I thought you said you could handle it," Jamie said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, well, I lied," Adam admitted. "I didn't think you'd actually do it."

Jamie leaned back over Adam's shoulder so they could get back to work.

"If this thing's gonna be round and spinning, how the hell are we gonna know which way is front?" Adam pointed out.

Taking a moment to think, Jamie leaned forward to fetch the pen, resting his hand on Adam's shoulder so he didn't lose his balance. "Uhh..." He drew another circle on the blueprint paper, and found himself unable to answer the question right away. He tapped the felt nib of the pen against the paper, trying to think of a solution. "I guess... we just experiment with it out in the parking lot until we know how it drives." Absently tapping his fingers on the younger man's shoulders, Jamie picked up one of the dozens of sketches that were spread out across the work bench.

"As complicated as this damn thing is, it'd better fucking destroy whatever crosses its path," Adam said as he capped the silver pen. He shifted in his seat, allowing several joints in his back to snap loudly.

Feeling Adam shift beneath his hand, Jamie wondered playfully just how long he could keep it on the young man's shoulder before having it slapped away. He again leaned across the table, shifting his hand slightly closer to Adam's neck as he reached for another small piece of blueprint paper.

"What if," Jamie started as he positioned the paper so they could both see it clearly, "we rigged the mower to a flywheel, instead? We might get more torque out of it." He pointed to the sketch where they had the wok attached to the mower's blades.

Adam nodded his head, trying to ignore Jamie's hand on his shoulder. He wasn't particularly fond of the contact, but he was determined to redeem himself from the last time Jamie had touched him. He was man enough to be able to handle a little bit of touching. "Yeah," he said. "That makes sense." He drummed his fingers against the wood surface of the workbench as he went over the scattered assortment of notes and drawings with his eyes. "What if we take the drive system out all together?" he asked.

"You can't not have a drive system, Adam," Jamie said, again moving his hand closer to the young man's neck. "How the hell is he gonna move?"

Adam chuckled, not sure if he could properly explain himself. Ignoring Jamie's persistent attempt to make him squirm, he focused on figuring out a good analogy for what he had in mind. "Like, I dunno. Something that we could attach to the mower that would be able to use that to act as the drive system."

Jamie leaned forward and picked up the paint pen again. He quickly drew a decent attempt at a circle on the page and tapped the nib down a few times while he thought about how to convey his interpretation of what Adam ad tried to say. "I think I get it," he said.

As he tried to draw out how he thought it might look, Jamie tried to elicit any reaction at all from Adam. By this point, Jamie was certain that the last time Adam had reacted, it was simply because of already shattered nerves. Knowing that this would be a real challenge, Jamie decided to push the envelope a little further, and moved his hand slightly forward. "If we... uhh..." He continued to tap the felt nib against the paper, creating a rather large spot of silver paint. "I guess we can..."

Adam chuckled at the older man's frequent inability to form a complete sentence. He wanted badly to shove Jamie's hand off of his shoulder, but was determined not to fold to the cruel idea of a joke. "Well, come on, Hyneman," he taunted with a small chuckle, trying to distract himself. "Spit it out already."

Figuring that Adam's teasing was a defense mechanism, he slowly began to move his hand down onto the younger man's chest. "Yeah, well," Jamie said. "I'm sure you get the point anyway."

Adam laughed nervously as he reached for an older sheet of notes. As he pretended to read over them, he felt Jamie's hand move lower yet. He hated himself for not stopping this nonsense sooner, but even more, he hated to admit that this stupid game was more action than he'd had in weeks. "Jamie, what are you doing?" he finally asked softly.

Jamie could feel the younger man begin to tremble lightly. "I'm sorry," he said honestly. "Do you want me to stop?"

He began to lift his hand, but stopped himself when Adam shook his head.

"No," he replied quietly after a beat, admitting to himself that the touch was not only welcome, but on some very strange level, almost pleasant. He sighed lightly and closed his eyes, reluctantly submitting himself to Jamie's curiously soft touch.

Cautiously, Jamie moved his finger tips across Adam's shoulder, gently tracing his collar bone. Sighing lightly, Adam lifted his head, wordlessly allowing the other man to move lower down his chest. Jamie worked slowly down Adam's chest, gently rubbing his fingers back and forth across worn cotton. As he continued to gently stroke, he went from just barely gracing the younger man's chest with his finger tips to using his entire hand, gently squeezing flesh as he worked even lower. As Jamie's skilled hands began to stroke the young man's belly, Adam became painfully aware that his tight jeans were getting even tighter. If he hated himself for allowing the situation to even arise, it was nothing compared to the self-loathing he felt now. He sighed lightly as he let his hands fall to his side, fully surrendering himself to Jamie's will. His entire body quivered as the experienced hands moved south and slowly pulled the t-shirt from the grip of his belt. Gentle fingers moved softly across Adam's belly and back up to his chest, almost tickling with each pass. Again, Jamie began to move his hands lower, his fingers daring to duck beneath Adam's tight leather belt.

Adam inhaled sharply as Jamie stroked the head of his cock with his fingers. He closed his eyes tightly, knowing that they had already gone too far, but some spot hidden deep in his brain wanted to push further. His body tensed as the strange touch slowly moved down his prick, stroking the entire length. Unexpectedly, Jamie pulled his hand out of Adam's jeans. He leaned over to the workbench and carefully moved all of the paperwork aside, making room for him to sit on the wooden surface.

"Come here," he said, as he pulled lightly on Adam's arm. It wasn't a request; it was a goddamn order.

Adam obeyed, sitting between Jamie's knees with his back against the older man's chest. Jamie wrapped his arms around Adam's waist and slowly unbuckled his belt. He rested his chin on Adam's shoulder, and for a moment, the nervous young man thought that his boss was about to start kissing on his neck. As Jamie concentrated on just getting Adam's jeans unzipped, it became apparent that the older man had no intention of even the smallest peck. There was no emotion here; just wanton desire. Somehow, just knowing that there were no awkward feelings to be had between them allowed Adam to relax a tiny bit more.

"Adam, I know you're young," Jamie said as he pulled Adam's jeans open. "But come on. X-men?"

"Fuck off, farm boy," Adam said, smiling nervously. He didn't have a snappy comeback for a comment on his boxer shorts. All chicks ever seemed to care about was whether the carpet matched the drapes. He had dozens of cute one-liners for the colour of his pubic hair, but not a damn thing for his choice of underwear.

Jamie slid his hand down the front of Adam's shorts, the movement more fluid as he was no longer fighting against tight leather and denim. He gently stroked the young man's shaft with his fingers before wrapping his hand tightly around Adam's cock, drawing a light whimper from his throat. He worked slowly, pumping the hard cock as he found his rhythm. Jamie turned his face into Adam's neck, deeply inhaling the man's scent; sawdust, with a hint of Gillette shaving gel. Feeling Jamie's hot breath on his neck, Adam bit his lip and gripped the edge of the workbench with both hands as the strokes to his dick became harder and faster.

"Th--this is wrong," he panted as he arched into Jamie's strokes.

As Jamie's right hand worked Adam's cock, his left began to wander back underneath the black t-shirt, groping and squeezing flesh as it wandered and explored. Adam fought back a squeal as Jamie pinched his erect nipple. Jamie could feel Adam's dick pulse as he neared orgasm, and after a few quick tugs, warm cum rolled over his fingers. Adam leaned back into Jamie's chest, panting lightly. He loosened his grip on the edge of the workbench as he allowed his head to roll back onto Jamie's shoulder. Slowly, as though trying not to startle the boy, Jamie pulled his hands out from under Adam's clothing and reached across the bench for a shop towel. Without a word, he cleaned off his hands as best he could.

"I... I've never..." Adam couldn't think of how to even begin the sentence. Instead, he pulled himself upright and zipped up his jeans, his hands shaking slightly.

"It's kind of obvious," Jamie answered with a slight smile, knowing what Adam was trying to say. He slid himself off of the work bench and tossed the shop towel into the trash bin before walking out of the room, leaving Adam alone with his thoughts.