Shimmers
of early morning sunlight made the man’s hair sparkle with shades of gold and
red. Jarrod could only imagine what its true color really was. Honey, maybe, or
perhaps caramel? Maybe it leaned closer to bronze, or even auburn, or it could
be that he was completely off base, and it was some mix of ruby and berry,
striking and rich enough to eclipse the glory of the rising sun. Pressing his
fingers to the glass, Jarrod leaned against the window, enraptured by the fluid
movements of the man below. He’d seen parkour before, in videos and the
occasional TV show, but never like this. Never right beneath his nose.
With a graceful mix of power and
agility, the man launched himself off the back of a bench, executed a sort of
corkscrew summersault and landed with the ease of a cat. There was barely a
moment of pause before he took off running again, diving over a shrub to tuck
and roll on the other side. Ten pushups later he was dashing down the empty
path, fading from Jarrod’s view all too rapidly when the tree lined trail
curved north.
What a fine ass that was moving
beneath those sweatpants. Jarrod leaned until his nose was pressed to the
glass, straining for even a hint of another view. No way it wasn’t as firm as
it looked. Taking himself in hand, he imagined the feel of it beneath his
fingers, taunt, tight…
“Jarrod. Hey! Did you hear anything I
said?”
Blinking, Jarrod stared across the
table at Lance and tried to recall the last thing his friend had said to him,
but his thoughts kept drifting back to the man doing parkour on the trail that
morning and how much he longed to see him in action again.
“Dude, you’ve been staring at that
spinner of jelly containers for the last five minutes. Considering there are
only four flavors, and you hate marmalade, it shouldn’t be that difficult of a
choice.”
“Sorry, guess I’m just distracted
this morning.”
“No shit. Care to share, or shall I
attempt to guess what’s got you staring at those packets like the secrets of
the universe are written down their sides?”
“You are not as funny as you think
you are.”
“Are you so sure about that?”
“Meh.”
“Seriously though, you might want to
think about eating your breakfast before it gets colder than I’m sure it
already is.”
“Who said I didn’t like it this way?”
Lance threw up his hands, shook his
head and turned his attention back to the quarter of a pancake he still had
left. Because he was feeling a tad bit prickly, Jarrod slathered marmalade on
one slice of toast and apple jelly on the other, just to prove to Lance that he
wasn’t always right about everything. Of course, the grin on Lance’s face when
Jarrod grimaced at the first taste of orange was a sure sign that he hadn’t
accomplished shit besides screwing up his own meal, which was as cold and
unappealing as Lance suggested it would be, damn it all.
Several bites in, he sipped his coffee only to discover that it too was at less-than-optimal temperature. Ice coffee had never been his thing, but he drank it anyway, if only to avoid giving Lance the satisfaction of saying I told you so.
Now, what Thirst Trap Thursday would be complete without a bit of eye candy, including the model and inspiration for Bastian, who was on the cover of Babber Into My Heart.
“Excuse
me. Sorry about that,” Jarrod rambled as he hurried through a trio of guys
clustered together near the entrance to the lobby. He narrowly avoided plowing
into one, who grumbled at him to slow down before he hurt someone. He wouldn’t
have to worry about that if people would take their conversations someplace
where they wouldn’t be blocking people’s access to a community space.
Bursting through the doors and into
the silvery dawn, he looked left, then right, hoping to get a glimpse of the
runner he’d seen dashing down the trail. Of course he was too late to catch him
before he reached the fork. Between the elevator and the random obstacles he’d
had to dodge, it was no wonder. Damnit all, this was the second day in a row
he’d missed out on the chance to catch up to him.
Micki was at work behind the desk,
and though he didn’t know her well, she’d been there last year when he’d first
been hired to train the ponies, and she’d been helpful in directing him to
several places he’d been interested in checking out. It might be a longshot,
but perhaps touching base with her might give him some clue as to the parkour
man’s routine, or at the very least, if he had one.
“Morning, Micki, do you have a
moment?”
“Sure thing, what can I do for you?”
“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed
anyone doing flips and spring boarding off things as they went past the
window.”
“If I had, I’d remember,” she said.
“At this hour, most people are blinking and trying to wake up, and if they do
head out on the walking trail, then it’s with a cup of coffee in their hands,
or a camera.”
“Damn.”
“Sorry, I wish I could help you out,
but there’s only been like, three people down this morning. Those two ladies
sitting on the bench out there watching the sun come up, and this guy who was
down here reading, but it looks like he left.”
Scratching his head, Jarrod struggled
to come up with a plan B, wishing he’d had the good sense to get the man’s name
when they’d bumped into one another. Talk about fortune smiling at him, but
then his friend had shown up and whisked him away before Jarrod could say much
of anything.
“Is he about yey high with reddish-blond
hair, in a hoody and jogging pants,” Jarrod asked, holding his hand up to
indicate his parkour guy’s approximate height.
Her face scrunched up as she gave it
some thought before she finally nodded at him. “Actually, yes. I’d say he’d
down here about an hour before the sun comes up, sits right over there next to
the fireplace.”
“Perfect,” Jarrod said. It might cost
him some sleep but tomorrow morning he’d be seated in the lobby bright and
early, thermos of coffee in hand. Maybe he should bring an extra cup, in case
the man wished to join him in some before his run, though who accepted random
drinks from strangers these days. So maybe forget the cup, at least the first
time, so the guy wouldn’t think he was a weirdo or something. Mind made up,
Jarrod headed back to his room to start his day, confident his plan would yield
him the introduction he was after.
^^^
What the hell was that beeping?
Groaning, Jarrod sat up and brushed the fine fringe of hair from his eyes. The
damned noise was coming from somewhere, but why…damnit, his fist found the
offending device and he fumbled to turn it off, grateful when a blessed burst
of silence filled the room. Thought faded as his head sunk into the surface of
the pillow and he once again nodded off.
^^^
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
Sunlight filled the room and he
blinked his eyes against it, cursing himself for forgetting to draw the blinds
over the window again. The moment he thought of them, he sprang from the bed,
reminded of why he’d left them open these past few days. His parkour running
obsession tended to run by super early and he’d…planned to be downstairs with a
thermos of coffee before he’d gone on his run this morning, so he could finally
introduce himself to him.
Son of a bitch.
One glance at his clock told him it
was much too late now. Slamming his fist against the mattress he glared at the
ceiling, annoyed that he’d let another opportunity slip through his fingers.
Was no need to hurry now. He lay there, grateful it wasn’t a training day. His
time today was his own, though he had no clue how he was going to spend it.
Maybe with a lifting session. He hadn’t done legs yet this week. Afterward,
well, maybe he’d wander down by the lake once he cleaned up. He could grab a
couple sandwiches, perhaps share the crusts with the ducks. It was better than
sitting inside and brooding.
Mind made up, Jarrod rolled out of
bed, changed, and headed for the elevator in time to see a chattering group
wander out, several talking over one another and clearly excited about
something. It was only out of the corner of his eye that he noticed the man
left behind by their departure and without another thought, he leapt between
the doors as they closed, one catching him on the shoulder before it sprang
open again, his abruptness clearly startling the man. The moment he recognized
Jarrod was clear though. He smiled and raised an eyebrow at his entrance.
“In the interest of fairness, I
probably should issue you a warning about elevator doors, considering how kind
you were to insure that I took caution not to wander into the lake.”
“Perhaps you should.”
“Well then, consider this my warning, though I’m not sure if I should be warning you, or the door. Jacked as you are, you might actually be able to do some damage to the poor thing.”
I can't believe it's only been a year since I wrote my first Pet Play story!
Babber Into my Heart can be found here!
Diving
over the last hedge, Bastian tucked his head and landed in a forward role,
popping up on his feet as soon as he’d completed it. Laughter bubbled up from
his throat, so he let it roll out of him, boisterous and loud, as he spun
around in circles, the exhilaration of a successful run leaving him giddy. The
walk back would settle him down, but he wasn’t ready to shed the feeling yet,
not when it still washed over his skin like pinpricks of static electricity.
“Bravo,” a voice called out, followed
by enthusiastic clapping that brought a bit of heat to Bastian’s face. He
turned slower this time, enough to let his eyes focus and his brain register
that he wasn’t alone. Jarrod sat on a colorful picnic blanket several feet away,
containers spread out in front of him like he was about to settle in for a
feast.
“I–I” Bastian stammered, stunned into
inaction. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect anyone to be using this spot this
early. I’ll just get out of here and leave you to your meal. Sorry to come
crashing in on you, again.”
“Well, in this case, your presence
was not only expected, it was anxiously anticipated,” Jarrod admitted, leaving
Bastian frowning and a bit confused.
“You were waiting for me? Why?”
“Because our conversation yesterday
got interrupted and I didn’t want to miss out on another opportunity to talk to
you,” Jarrod admitted. “For the past few mornings I’ve watched you running
beneath my window, but when I tried to catch up with you yesterday, I got up too
late. Running into you in the elevator was just pure, dumb luck, but it didn’t
last nearly long enough, so I figured I’d set up on the most likely spot on the
trail and hope you showed up.”
“And what would you have done if I
hadn’t?”
“Picked another spot again tomorrow
and tried again.”
“Oh.”
“That…probably sounded way more
stalkerish than I intended,” Jarrod admitted, the look on his face more grimace
than smile.
There was a faint blush there too,
which Bastian found endearing, if only because the man was supposed to be a Master
and a trainer and yet here he sat, looking slightly uncomfortable talking to
him. It was enough to make Bastian feel powerful and desired. After all, it
wasn’t every day that someone went this far out of their way to do something
special just for him.
“I tried to pick a spot far enough
away from the lodge that you wouldn’t be cutting your run too short by joining
me,” Jarrod said, appearing hopeful. “I hope I didn’t underestimate.”
“No, I um, this was the end of my
run, actually. The trail is much too long to make a full circuit, at least, not
with the speed and vigor I tend to run it.”
“That’s what I guessed, but you know
how assumptions work, half the time you get bit in the ass by them.”
“Well, this was definitely one time
when you didn’t.”
“Does that mean you’ll join me?”
“Yeah, I’d umm, like that. I can’t
remember the last time I was on a picnic.”
“Then by all means, have a seat,”
Jarrod said, gesturing to the empty spot across from him. “I wasn’t sure what
all you might like, so I brought a bit of everything, though, nothing too
heavy. I figured, if you were anything like me, you wouldn’t want to overload
on carbs after a run so it’s mostly just fruit, some boiled eggs, bacon, and a
couple chocolate chip muffins.”
As he spoke, he removed the lids from
each of the containers, revealing a bounty of fresh fruit that left Bastian’s
mouthwatering. “Holy shit that looks good.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
“Oh my god, I more than approve, is
that honeydew?”
“Yup.”
“It’s my favorite.”
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