In celebration of Tam’s birthday tomorrow, a few of us banded together to produce something that we hope she really enjoys. Presenting, our own collaborative version of smutty M/M slash fiction:
Just Another Day In Tamsville
Raul St. Paul worked seven days a week, twelve hours a day at the Tim Hortons in Tamsville, Ontario. It was hard work and long hours, but he desperately needed the money keep up with his child support commitments.
He had never regretted that awkward night with his high school sweetheart. A few months later, when she told him that she was pregnant, he was as happy as could be. He had never pictured himself with a son.
But now, three years later, his work at Tim Hortons left him very little time for a social life. Deep frying donuts for the people of Tamsville didn’t do much to introduce Raul to eligible singles. That is, of course, until Zander Macaroon walked through door, and into his life.
“C-can I help you?” Raul stammered as he looked deep into Zander’s blue eyes.
Zander Macaroon was tall, with skin like a non-fat soy caramel macchiato no foam extra light whipped cream latte with a touch of honey. His dark hair was long and pulled back into, something Raul found hard to describe. It was like a thing — a hair thing, and it was magnificent. It was impossible to describe what ethnicity he was; as he was like a mix of every minority Raul St. Paul’s mother warned him about and that just took Raul’s breath away.
“Please sir, I was hoping you could help me,” said Zander with a voice as smooth as spider’s silk. “My car broke down a little while back and I was hoping I could use your phone.”
“Of course!” said Raul, slightly too excitedly. What was it about gorgeous men that turned him into a blundering idiot, he wondered? Raul dug into his pocket, grazing his suddenly engorged baby maker as he did so and pulled out his cell phone. “Here, you can use my cell phone, I have unlimited minutes.”
Raul held out his phone over the counter that separated them, and when the man took it, their skin touched ever so slightly. Upon the contact of their flesh, Raul was overcome with a flood of images: dark, naked, writhing shadows filled his mind and body, down to the deepest crevice of his most sacred flesh that was suddenly clenched in both fear and exhilaration.
“W-w-what are you?” was all Raul was able to get out once he caught his breath.
Raul’s heart fluttered uncontrollably. A single bead of sweat formed in the middle of his back and he felt it run all the way down to his ass. It cleaved his cheeks and deposited itself at his Hershey highway.
Raul looked up at Zander’s face once more to find that Zander had finished his call and was talking directly to Raul. Raul apologized for spacing out and asked what he had missed.
“Oh, I just told you that the tow truck is on the way. Is it okay if I wait here?” Zander asked.
“No problem!” blurted Raul with mild regret. He had a feeling it would be a problem. He already couldn’t concentrate on his work since his purple-headed love warrior was pushing the limits of his pants.
“Thanks again for letting me use your phone.” Zander said in a slight accent that Raul couldn’t quite place.
“Oh, it was nothing, really.” Anything to keep you in this store a little longer Raul thought to himself.
“I’m not really sure how I can repay you. ” Zander said handing the phone back to Raul.
“Oh, no need, Tuesdays are super slow. The store will be empty for hours and it is nice to have someone, I mean something to pass the time.” Zander handed the phone back to Raul, but Raul, being a bit too eager, grabbed for his phone a little too vigorously. The phone popped out of Zander’s hand and was suddenly air born.
Both handsome men shot their hands forward in an attempt to save the phone from the floor. After an awkward flash of caramel and coffee colored skin, the phone settled in Raul’s hand, which was settled in the very firm grip of Zander’s hand.
Raul’s face flushed red as he looked into Zander’s impossibly blue eyes. “I, um, thanks. I g-got it.” Raul said and swallowed hard, trying to gain some composure as his glazed donut puckered and throbbed.
Zander, tucking a bit of misplaced hairthing back into place, looked deep into Raul’s face and said, “I think I can help you with your jelly stick to repay your kindness.” He then grabbed Raul by his cheap polyester uniform and kissed him deeply on the mouth.
Raul was astounded. Could this really be happening? Zander’s lips were as soft and pillowy as the dough that made up the many delicious varieties of Tim Horton’s baked goods.
“Mmmm. You taste like cinnamon.” murmured Zander.
“That’s the apple fritter I just ate,” said Raul.
Zander deepened the kiss and ran his hands through Raul’s short, spiky ‘do. Raul pushed Zander up against the counter and began to unbutton his plaid shirt.
“Plaid really turns me on,” breathed Raul as he trailed his fingers through Zander’s thick mat of chest hair.
“Let’s see if you look as good out of that polyester uniform as you do in it,” said Zander as he unzipped Raul’s slacks.
Raul closed his eyes and lost himself in the wonder of Zander. His husky voice, the scent of his spicy cologne, his rock hard chest and warm gentle mouth were almost too much for him. And were those bells he heard ringing? Suddenly he felt Zander pull away. Raul opened his eyes to find Zander looking toward the door. Still lost in a haze of passion, Raul turned around to see the door to Tim Horton’s standing ajar – the bell above still resounding. Standing in the doorway was his obese manager, Betty Blam.
“Raul!” Betty shrieked, even more shriekier than usual. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! The only thing you should be kissing around here is my ass! You’re lucky you still have a job after all the shit and cocks you’ve pulled around here!”
Before Raul could even respond, Zander withdrew a previously concealed handgun and pumped three holes in Betty’s bulbous chest. The woman fell back, crashing partially through the glass door, but too fat to pass through the door frame entirely. She hung there limper than Raul’s discostick had been fifteen minutes earlier.
Zander replaced his gun in the back waist of his perfectly fitting jeans. “Now where were we?”
The two men collided their bodies into each other once more like two Bettys fighting over the last bugle. Before Raul knew it, he was on top of the counter and on top of Zander, their bodies pressed into each other, their tongues searching each others mouths like two squirrels searching for each others nuts.
Raul slid his hand down the front of Zander’s pants, searching for the glorious prize that awaited him.
It was just then that he heard the low honk of the tow truck in the parking lot outside. “I asked the driver to pick me up here,” Zander whispered.
“Oh … I guess you’ll be going then?” Raul asked disappointedly as he leaned back onto the counter.
“Yea I guess … you think I can have a free donut for the ride?” Zander asked as he dismounted and began to button his shirt.
“I’m not really supposed to,” Raul said as he glanced towards the bleeding, lifeless fat heap of his manager in the doorway, “But I guess I can make an exception.”
Raul stood up from the counter and put on an apron to help conceal his throbbing trouser snake. “Can I at least have your number before you go?” he asked.
“You can have more than that,” Zander said as they heard another honk from the parking lot. “Meet me in the lot after your shift with a few more free donuts and I’ll fill your donut with cream… if you catch my drift.” They both laughed.
Raul grabbed a mop as Zander hopped over Betty Blam and into the parking lot. He watched the tow truck speed away as he began to clean up the blood. He couldn’t wait until his shift was over.