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With a critical eye, Dave watched Derek load their cart. “I don’t do yard work, Derek,” he stated firmly.
Derek smirked. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
Dave waved that off. “No, it isn’t. It’s work. I thought the point of this week is to relax.”
“This is relaxing.”
Dave rolled his eyes. “No. I prefer to pay people to do the back breaking labor.”
Derek grinned. “It’s not that bad. Really.”
Dave grimaced. “When I was a kid, chores in Dad’s yard was a punishment,” he said seriously. “No thank you.”
“Fine,” Derek replied good naturedly. “I’ll do it myself.”
Dave smiled. “And I’ll make dinner.”
“Talk about work,” Derek teased.
“Just because you can’t cook,” Dave teased back.
Derek laughed to himself as he remembered their earlier conversation. He was so intent on his task that he didn’t notice the dark clouds gathering overhead. He finally stepped back from the newly planted sturdy young tree. He grinned and admired it for a long moment.
He grabbed his shirt from where he’d left it hanging over the fence. He started wiping the sweat and grime from his face and hands. He slung the shirt over his shoulder and bent down for his half full water bottle.
He took a healthy gulp before pouring the rest over his head. He closed his eyes and laughed. He shook his head and blinked the water out of his eyes.
Thunder rumbled. Suddenly, he felt the first large drops hit his shoulders. He briefly looked up to see the black clouds and lightning in the distance. He didn’t have time to get up the deck stairs and into the back door of the house before the skies opened for the downpour.
The air from the AC chilled his slick skin and his old sneakers squeaked on the wooden floor. He was still laughing. He inhaled the savory aroma of the baked ziti in the oven and he just couldn’t stop grinning.
He left his wet shoes, socks, and shirt on the mat by the door. He washed his hands, grabbed the towel, and went in search of Dave. He found him dozing on the couch in the front room.
Dave wore an old Cubs t shirt and a worn in all the right places pair of jeans. He was barefoot. He didn’t stir when Derek came in the room.
Derek absently dried his face and the back of his neck. Dave looked so much younger and his face was so open to him in sleep and Derek couldn’t help watching him. He knelt at Dave’s side. He leaned in close to Dave’s ear. “David.”
Dave sighed deeply. Derek’s breath was warm against his skin. A lazy smile slowly crossed his face. “Derek,” he whispered. “Get your tree planted?”
“Yeah and then the storm hit.” Derek paused to nuzzle that sensitive spot just below Dave’s ear. “The ziti smells great but there’s still an hour on the timer. I could really use a shower,” he growled suggestively.
Dave opened his eyes to see Derek wet and only wearing frayed cutoff shorts. He licked his lips. “You up for some company?”
Derek’s eyes sparked. “For you, always.”