Thomas looked up as Eric spoke, and stopped horsing around. Millie gave a disappointed bark as she paddled and nudged his hand hopefully. He ran his hands though his hair to get the drips out of his face, his muscles rippling in a most distracting way. Eric's cock was quite appreciative and twitched in his sweats.
"Sorry, she never can resist getting in the water." Eric was trying hard to concentrate on the conversation, but really, most of his attention was taken by the view in front of him. He spent his days surrounded by handsome men and beautiful women but this man took his breath away. His dark blonde hair curled damply around his ears and his bright blue eyes sparkled in amusement. Damn, could Eric get more girly?
Eric blinked. "Uh… yes?" He'd been so busy staring at the water droplets running down Thomas' chest… and oh… were they freckles? Eric couldn't tell from this distance.
He dragged eyes reluctantly away from Thomas' body to his face, not that it was any less distracting with those eyes; fuck, those eyes.
Thomas was smirking at him unashamedly. "Would you mind calling your dog back? I'm getting cold now and I'd like to get out."
Fortunately Millie seemed to be more intelligent than her owner and obediently swam towards the sandy beach. She got and shook herself— all over Thomas' towel which lay folded neatly on the sand.
"Millie! Away! I'm so sorry, Thomas!" Eric tried to lead his soaking wet dog away from the towel but Millie thought it was a game and jumped around, soaking the towel even more as the water flew from her fur.
Rolling his eyes, Thomas waded out of the water and picked up his soggy towel. Toby growled and latched onto the end of it, obviously wanting to get into the game, too. The harder Thomas tugged, the firmer Toby held onto it.
"Toby, let go!" Eric said firmly. Toby just held on tighter, growling and shaking his head, a huge doggy smile on his face.
"Jesus Christ! If I'd known I was gonna end up this sweaty I'd have done this first and then gone for a swim," Thomas panted as he slowly lost ground on the amount of towel in his hands.
Eric was not thinking about the mental image of Thomas, sweat droplets trickling down his chest that Eric was reaching forward to lick slowly… No, he wasn't.
Eric was hanging on to Thomas' end of the towel and the two men pulled together. Millie was wagging her tail furiously on the sidelines, thinking it was a great game. "I've given up apologizing for my dogs. We normally run away before anyone can identify us."
"Good idea. Toby, drop." Thomas stopped tugging. Eric's jaw dropped open as the sharp tone of voice caused the dog to immediately let go of the soggy material and sit back on his haunches, looking downcast.
Startled, and more than a little concerned for the well-being of his dog, Eric edged a little closer to his pets.
Chuckling outright at Eric's protective
expression, Thomas tried to dry himself with the only section of the towel not mangled by Toby's teeth.
"Ah," Thomas nodded sagely, "I'll have to think of a new threat." He shivered in the early morning air, rubbing at his arms as goosebumps dappled his skin in a most distracting way. "I think I'd better get back to my house before I freeze to death."
Telling himself he wasn't disappointed, Eric asked, "Where do you live?" He couldn't see any buildings in the immediate vicinity of the lake apart from his cottage.
"Over that way a little," Thomas waved a vague hand in the direction of some trees. Wherever it was it must be well set back because Eric couldn't see a thing.
Eric's stomach suddenly growled loudly, breaking the silence. Thomas chuckled. "Better go feed the beast before it breaks out."
"Fuck you," Eric said easily, then went bright red as he realized what he'd said to a complete stranger, even if he was a totally hot dude.
Thomas was shaking his head as he laughed. "Not this time, cowboy. I never put out on a first date."
Did this mean he'd been considering putting out? Eric really hoped he’d been reading the signals right but he was fairly sure the attraction had been mutual. Deciding not to push it this time he whistled for the dogs, who were sniffing at something farther down the beach. Saying goodbye to Thomas, Eric moved off towards the cottage. He definitely needed breakfast.
Thomas didn't seem in any rush to move, though, despite his previous statement, because Eric could feel the man's eyes on his back for quite a while. He chanced a look back. Thomas was staring after him, his blue eyes shuttered as he watched Eric leave.
Eric was exhausted. By the time he unpacked his gear, all he wanted to do was lie on the sofa and doze. After not having a vacation longer than four consecutive days in two years, the strain was showing. He could feel the edges of another migraine coming on, even though the last one occurred less than a month ago.
He needed to find a store somewhere to pick up food for himself and the dogs, plus some oil for the heater. Eric sat down for five minutes, only to wake up in almost pitch black. For a moment he was completely disorientated, not sure where he was. Then he remembered; vacation, remote cottage, hot neighbor!
Banging on the door set the dogs barking. Eric reluctantly heaved himself off the sofa and then stumbled around to find the kitchen door in the darkness. On the other side of the door was the neighbor, holding a pot that smelled heavenly. He had his free hand raised as if he was about to knock again
Thomas smiled at him as he held out the pot. "I thought you might not have had a chance to get to the local store so I brought you some dinner. Beef pot roast." Still sleep-fuddled, Eric made no move to take it and Thomas' smile slipped a little. "Uh, well, maybe I should have asked first."
He stepped back as if to leave but fortunately Eric's brain caught up and he leaped forward to stop his dinner (and hot neighbor — priority on the stomach) leaving.
"Don't go. I was sleeping. It smells wonderful. I just woke up. Would you like to join me?" Aware he was babbling, Eric shut his mouth with an audible snap.
Thomas moved past bewildered straight onto the expression reserved for small children and the mentally challenged. "Shall we go inside? We could eat it here but it might be messy without plates and forks."
Eric groaned inwardly. He was a grown man behaving like a thirteen year old on a first date. He fumbled clumsily for the light switch, still not totally familiar with the layout of the room (or awake). Thomas saw what he was doing and leaned forward, illuminating the room with one flick of a switch.
"Dorky? Slow?" suggested Thomas helpfully. Eric glared at him. "I was gonna say tired."
"That'll work too," agreed Thomas as he loaded Eric's plate with enough meat and vegetables to feed a family of four for a week… or an Eric Pawlowski.
He managed to wait until Thomas served himself; his momma had taught him some manners. "This is really kind of you," he tried to say around a mouthful of slow-cooked beef melting in his mouth.
Eric nodded, scooping more food into his mouth than was really polite. Thomas watched the demolition of his cooking with increasing
amazement. "I was going to suggest the dogs had the rest," He grinned as Eric whimpered in protest, "but they can have some of the gravy on their kibble."
Thomas loaded Eric's plate up again and sat back down to his own dinner, the dogs milling around their feet in hopeful anticipation of some scraps. Eric pretended not to notice Thomas passing them some pieces of beef.
The pot was totally empty and he'd scraped around the inside with some homemade bread, thoughtfully provided by the other man, before Eric sat back, replete. He tried to hide a satisfied belch but by the twitch of Thomas' lips, his attempt failed.
"I thought I'd save time and eat it before it had a chance to go bad. 'Sides, tomorrow night I'm gonna take you out to dinner to say thanks." Eric informed him, then promptly blushed as he realized how presumptuous he sounded.
"The local bar. Slightly shabby but great food. You tried to run me down in the parking lot last night." Thomas gave him a smirk.
"You don't have to do that. Here, let me help." Eric pushed back his chair and took the pot and their glasses over to the sink. The room wasn't very big and the two men, both over six foot, ended up tripping over each other. Thomas shoved a dish towel in his hand.
"I'll wash, you dry. Stay!" he ordered.
"We thought so, didn't we, girl?" Eric scratched Millie gently behind the ears; she leaned happily into his touch, obviously enjoying the affection. He looked up to catch Thomas smiling fondly at both of them. The man looked a little embarrassed when he realized he'd been caught. They finished the dishes to the accompaniment of Eric's yawning.
Thomas stowed the last of the plates away and picked up his Crockpot. "You really need this vacation, don't you?" he commented, looking at Eric who currently leaned against the table,
unsuccessfully trying to conceal another yawn.
"I work in Hollywood." It was a bland answer covering a multitude of sins and giving away nothing.
Thomas obviously thought so too because he frowned. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, 'bout eight." At Eric's look of incomprehension, he said, "Bob's? Or don't you want to take me out any more?"
"Ow! Jesus!" Thomas clutched his arm in pain. "What do you do in Hollywood? Beat people up for a living?"
Eric leaned forward into Thomas' space. Thomas had to tilt his head back to look up at him, and didn't that give Eric a little thrill? "You haven't actually offered me anything else… yet."
They were so close, almost close enough for him to lean forward and kiss Thomas. He was just deciding whether the man would allow him to take that step when another yawn caught him by surprise. There was nothing like a huge gaping mouth, probably with the remains of dinner, to put someone off kissing you. The moment was most definitely lost but the look in Thomas' eyes gave Eric a feeling that it was only postponed, not mislaid forever.
"Calling me 'Ric. It's been a long time since anyone has."
Why did I just admit that?
Eric thought, off-balance.
"Goodnight…"
"Call me Tommy and your balls are mine."
The next morning, Eric still felt sluggish and he wondered how long it would take to get his energy levels back to anywhere near normal. He made himself a large pot of coffee and drank it black because he still hadn't been food shopping.
As he sat at the kitchen table and drank his coffee, Millie nudged him, pointedly giving him a reminder that they were owed a walk from the previous night.
It was more like twenty minutes before he felt up to moving, but eventually he collected their leads and whistled loudly. The dogs had been sleeping in a patch of sunshine in the front room but at Eric's call they were rushing past him to the open door.
He hit the path to the lake and took a deep breath. The air was sharp, the smell of damp marshes hitting the back of his nose. It crossed his mind that the change in air could be contributing to his general sleepiness.
As he rounded the bend, Thomas was ahead of him. He just had time to notice the man was in tight, ass-fitting jeans and a deep green t-shirt before the dogs spotted him. Eric opened his mouth to shout a warning but he was too late; Toby jumped playfully at Thomas' back, tumbling him forwards onto the grass.
"Oof!" Thomas landed heavily onto the hard ground, the air forced out of his lungs by a solid lump of dog landing on his back.
"Toby, off!" roared Eric as he jogged up to the fallen man. Toby obediently shifted
one
paw off him. Eric grabbed him by the collar and yanked the dog off, then bent down and lifted Thomas back onto his feet. He was brushing him off when he caught sight of Thomas' raised eyebrow.