Page 70 of Something Like Forever

Chapter Ten

No one enjoyedbureaucracy, probably not even the bureaucrats themselves. Timtried to remind himself that everyone needed to earn a living, butone delay after another had drained his patience. An entire weekhad gone by with little progress. He could have easily flown hometo see Ben and back again if not for promises that tomorrow wouldbe the day. It always seemed he needed to get one more signature,pay one more fee, pass one more inspection…

Corey was doing hisutmost. Tim had no doubt of that. His guide was just as surprisedby each unexpected delay and was increasingly apologetic. He andKioshi did their best to entertain Tim. Often this was welcome. Atother times, Tim politely declined because what they had togetherwas a constant reminder of what he missed most. Instead he wouldstay in his hotel, flipping through the manga books that Corey hadloaned him before settling down to read them for real. The plotswere hopelessly romantic, the art inspiring. Tim grabbed hissketchbook and tried drawing a few pages of his own. Even then hecouldn’t get away from the ache in his heart. Trying to appease it,he began illustrating their relationship, starting at the verybeginning and focusing on Ben, because drawing him almost felt asintimate as getting to touch him.

Finally the big dayarrived. Not the gallery opening or his return flight, but simplythe moment when the keys to the restaurant were placed in his hand.Now, no matter what, he could move things forward under his ownpower.

So that’s what he did. Timpulled the brown paper from the windows, emptied the rocks from thefish tanks, and cleared out a kitchen that Eric definitely wouldn’thave approved of because every piece of equipment he shifted orcupboard he opened revealed more filth. He passed a few days thisway, happy for the physical exertion, and the visible progress.Today’s goal was to get all the tables and chairs moved to the backalley, where they could be picked up. And he had help.

“This wasn’t in the jobdescription,” Corey said, helping him separate a table in half. Thesuit was gone. Now wearing an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt, helooked decidedly more American. He seemed equally interested inTim’s outfit, which consisted of shoes, cotton shorts, and nothingelse. “The view’s not bad though.”

“Less flirting, moreworking,” Tim said with a grunt, lifting his half of the table andcarrying it toward the rear exit. The air conditioning wasn’t fixedyet and the day was hot, or he would be wearing a lot more toshield himself from the grime.

“Are you sure you need mehere at all?” Corey said. He sounded impressed, maybe because hehad to drag his half of the table.

“You don’t have to dothis,” Tim said, leaning the table piece against the wall with theothers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it.”

“It’s fine.” Corey noddedhis thanks when Tim came to relieve him of his burden and carry itthe rest of the way. “Although it strikes me that we havecontractors showing up the day after tomorrow. They would do allthis for you.”

“This saves money, givesme a sense of purpose, and if it gets me home even one day earlier,it’s worth it.” Tim added the table to the stack next to the door.“Besides, it’s not a bad workout.”

“I noticed,” Corey said.“You need to give me some tips.”

Tim turned to face him. “Why’s that?”

“I hit the gym prettyregularly,” Corey said, “but I’m not getting the same results.Here.” He stripped off his T-shirt.

Tim didn’t see what Coreywas concerned about. He had a nice body. His skin was pale, hisbuild smaller, but he had toned what muscles he possessed. “Looksgood to me,” he said.

“Really?” Corey said,flexing an arm. “This is impressive? Now you do it.”

Tim grinned and curled hisright arm, knowing that all the heavy lifting made it appear extrapumped at the moment. “You just gotta eat your spinach.”

“I wish it was that easy,”Corey said, hands on his hips. “What’s your secret?”

“It’s mostly genetic,” Timsaid. “Yeah, I jog and do some lifting, but I inherited the rightsort of build. You have a smaller frame, that’s all. If I had yourbody, I’d be happy with how it looks.”

“Thanks,” Corey said. “I’dstill like to work on my pecs. Yours are always pushing againstyour shirt. Mine are flat. How do you get them so firm?”

“Yours look firm tome!”

“They have the right shapebut…” Corey took a step closer, hands raised. “Do youmind?”

Tim snorted. “You want to feel me up?”

“Can I?”

He laughed. “Sure. Knock yourself out.”

Tim puffed up his chest,feeling silly. Then those hands touched his pecs and the smile slidoff his face. It felt good. His relationship with Ben was just asphysically intense as it was emotional. He missed that too. Enoughthat his body started to react. This was a bad idea.

“Mine aren’t near assolid,” Corey was saying, cheeks a little red as he lookedup.

By accident or design, hebrushed one of Tim’s nipples, the sensation shooting through hisentire body and making him want more.

Boom boom boom!

They both turned towardthe noise and froze. A voice, loud and enthusiastic, was chatteringfrom somewhere not far away. The knocking came again, even moreinsistent.