Anthony and Timothy

BY : Laevi
Category: Original - Misc > -Slash - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 944
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication

Anthony and Timothy


Tim didn’t really know why he stood at the foot end of the modern looking box spring. He wasn’t really looking for a new bed, even though the style would fit his modern interior better than the sturdy wooden one he had now. He had wandered into the large furniture shop, following the endless paths with the same reason like so many people had; biding the time on this rainy day and looking at nice stuff without thinking of buying anything. He loved the designs, but could only afford what he had.

He enjoyed the displays, made mental notes of the ideas. Perhaps he would purchase some accessories at the end, a vase maybe, or a new picture for one of the white walls. He certainly wouldn’t buy a bed…

Next to him, an unknown man seemed to share the same thoughts. Stealthily, Tim looked at him from the corner of his eyes. They seemed about the same age, they appeared to like the same, classy outfits, but there every similarity stopped. Tim was quite taken by the buzzcut hair, the straight and pointed nose, the perfect jawline. Smooth and sharp like a bullet, and with that outfit, looking exactly like the high-class sniper or hitman he once saw in a movie. Tim almost looked to see a slender suitcase, containing a dismantled gun. He didn’t see something like that, but he did spot lines of tattoos peeking from under the right cuff and collar. Heavily tattooed and a perfect suit.

“Looks nice,” escaped his lips before he could hold back.

The man looked up, eyes --unsurprisingly-- iceblue. “It does,” he nodded, flashing a bright smile. “I hate the blue and white blocks though… Do you think it comes in anthracite or liver?” He had an accent, one Tim didn’t recognize, speaking the Danish language meticulous and slowly.

Glad the stranger thought he had been referring to the bed, Tim walked to the other end to look at the color examples. “This would suit me fine,” he said, showing the dark grey swatch.

“Me too,” the other nodded. “Hm… It says it’s on order, not in stock. Damn… Once I set my mind on something… I hate waiting.”

“Sometimes patience is a virtue, they say.”

The man rolled his eyes. “They,” he snorted. “I never listen to what ‘they’ say. Oh well, time to find a seller.”

As if one of the salespeople had been waiting within earshot, he stepped into view. “Gentlemen!” He beamed. “How can I assist?”

Both Tim and the yet to be named man startled up, but recovered quickly. “This bed, in that color. How long will it take to deliver?”

“Four to six weeks, I’m afraid. Have you tried it out yet? Go on, take a dive you two, move around a bit, it will convince you it’s worth the agonizing wait, I’m sure.”

Box springs were always comfortable, Tim already knew. He played along, if only because it was amusing to think how the salesman was mistaken them for being a couple. He plopped on the bed, feet on the plastic protection, rolling next to the handsome stranger. A sigh escaped him, like his comment had done. “Wow…”

“I agree. Mm. Very comfortable indeed.”

“See? And it gets even better when you raise the mattresses…” The seller did what his job required of him, showing all the possibilities and convincing them to buy.

“Alright, I’m sold,” the stranger eventually nodded. “Four to six weeks sounds terrible, but it will be worth it.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” the seller soothed. “Let me get my tablet and place the order, alright?”

Finally, in their brief, private moment, the stranger winked at Tim as he sat upright. “Anthony Burkaw,” he introduced himself.

Tim scooted to the edge, to sit next to him. “Timothy Johansen,” also winking instead of shaking hands. “Are you really going to buy it?”

“Why yes, I came here to find a bed, and I must say it’s damn comfortable. Too bad I’ll have to wait, though. But oh well, some good things in life are not always up for grabs.” When the salesman returned, he gave all personal details required, including his phone number to reach him when the bed was ready to be delivered.

Tim had given them space, but he secretly saved that number in his own phone. Again, he had no idea why. Despite their little charade to the salesman, Anthony didn’t look gay by a mile.

The sale rounded up, Anthony stood straight and slapped his hands together. “Well, now I feel all pumped up,” he said with a sigh and colored cheeks. “How about a cup of coffee, Timothy? I certainly need one.”

The seller pulled out two coupons for free coffee and cake, handing them over to Tim with a broad smile. “On the house, of course. Thank you, boys, have a good day!”

They walked around the corner. Tim held up the coupons for Anthony. “Here, they’re yours. You bought something, I didn’t.”

But Anthony didn’t take them from him. “Are you kidding? We would break that poor guy’s heart if we go our separate ways now. I hate hurting someone’s feelings. Come on, Timothy, one cup of coffee, here in the cafeteria. Or do you have other engagements now?”

Tim didn’t have anything better to do, not with that annoying drizzle outside. He reckoned Anthony wasn’t too bad as company either, but he felt a little awkward keeping up the pretense of being a couple, with someone he didn’t know and who probably wasn’t even gay. “Call me Tim,” he said, with a slight shrug. “Only my mother uses my full name. What do they usually call you?”

“A menace,” Anthony answered without blinking. “But I prefer Ant. Somehow the sound suits me.”

They didn’t talk and walked to the cafeteria. Tim tried to look around a bit, but Ant gave little time to browse. He would have to go all the way back or come another time, Tim figured. It annoyed him a bit, but at the same time, he was intrigued and willing to know more about this tattooed, well-dressed, handsome ‘menace’.

Ant looked for a secluded table in a far corner, out of earshot from the other shoppers. Only then, he snatched the coupons from Tim’s fingers. “Take a seat, I’ll get the coffee.”

Tim settled in the seat against the wall. At least he could take a look at some of the accessories here, as the store used their own to decorate the place. It didn’t take long for Ant to return, with large mugs and slices of apple pie with cream at the side. Ant explained he could do with another rush, cosily sitting next to Tim. His stomach told Tim he could do with a bite as well. “Why do people call you a menace?”

First, Ant enjoyed a large bite of pie and a sip of coffee. “Cuz I am, I guess,” he rumbled in the mug. “I can be a bit intuitive, I have been accused of not thinking before I act. It’s not true, I do think, just not as long and hard as most people. That sometimes puts me in peculiar situations. Getting in trouble is easy, getting out of it can sometimes be awkward. I hate hurting people’s feelings, but I have done it.”

Nothing alarming, Tim thought. He shrugged a bit, and focused on his apple pie for a moment. He could sense the tension in the man next to him, and felt obliged to say something. “Hurting feelings is unavoidable,” he said with a soft tone of voice. “You can’t keep everybody happy. That doesn’t make you a menace. Unless you did it deliberately.”

Ant sighed. “No, I didn’t do it deliberately. I didn’t say ‘no’ in time, got caught up in something I didn’t want to get caught into in the first place, and ended it so late in the game, I hurt a lot of feelings.”

Tim’s jaws slowed down. “You really got me curious now,” he said with his mouth full. He swallowed quickly. “Care to tell me what you did, before my imagination runs off with me?” Already his thoughts jumped from drugs to killings, with Ant looking like a hitman like that.

“Sure,” Ant said dully. “I got engaged to marry and left her at the altar, so to speak.”

Tim widened his brown eyes. “Really?” he blurted, again before he could shut up. He was as intuitive as Ant, he figured.

“Yea,” Ant said with a chuckle under his breath. “Wouldn’t make that up. Two years ago. I kinda ran off and decided to leave the country because I feared her family would come after me. Wasn’t that difficult, the hotel chain I work for is scattered all over Europe. They were glad to place me here in Copenhagen.”

“Where do you come from?”

“Poland. Last I lived in Warsaw, but they tricked me to marry a girl from the village I was born in. I knew her from school… Visited my grandparents, we met and got totally drunk, and I can’t remember anything that happened before I woke up with her brothers around the bed I was lying in. She was lying next to me. That’s… pretty much equivalent to being engaged to marry.”

Tim wanted to say he didn’t have to hear the whole story, but Ant was clearly relieved he could finally tell someone. He heard more about how Ant tried to get away from that crazy situation, but found himself deeper and deeper in shit, up to the point when the date was set and the dress ordered.

“Then I decided to play along, just long enough so everybody would be busy and I had time to arrange my departure. The hotel in Copenhagen had a vacancy for an assistant manager and were happy to employ me. Instead of taking the bus to the village, I took a plane to Denmark. So there, I have hurt many people, including my grandparents.” Ant took a deep breath, his nose a bit red as if he was fighting against tears. “And now I bought a bed,” he concluded, eyes lighting up. “Want another coffee?”

Dumbfound for a moment, Tim stared at Ant. “No,” he finally said. He blinked a few times, trying to digest the story. Part of him wanted to run away now too, but another part was too intrigued. “I have to go home, unpack my groceries. Tomorrow is Sunday, I always take a run before dawn.”

“Sorry I bored you,” Ant said. He collected the mugs and plates. “I wish I asked you about your hobbies instead. Another one for the regret-pile, hm? Glad I met you, Tim… I wish you all the best.”

They shook hands, and said goodbye. But before he left, Tim made a pitstop in the restrooms. He took his time. Ant was on his mind, his crazy experience, but especially how he saw the straight nose reddening as if he wanted to cry. Suddenly, a sting hurt his stomach. Perhaps Ant was lonely, in need of a friend in his wrecked-up world. Even as an assistant manager of a hotel chain, dressed like that and able to buy a box spring Tim could never afford.

As he stepped outside to walk to his New Mini, the car next to it caught his attention. Now that was a nice ride… A gorgeous, grey Jaguar. As he rounded it, he glanced inside, and to his utter surprise he saw Ant. He tapped the window. With the way the eyes lit up, Ant seemed pleased to see him. He opened the door and stepped out.

Tim stared at how Ant moved. Tall and sinewy rather than muscular, again the only similarity with Tim was his suit. Ant was supple, elegant, and those peeking tattoos only added to the whole image. “Is this your car?” Tim asked, voice a bit higher than usual.

“You like?” Ant patted the shiny lacquer of the roof, slightly grinning.

“I like,” Tim nodded wildly. His dark bang slipped over his eyes, and he automatically wiped it behind an ear. “And it suits you! Man,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I have to confess, Ant, I think you are incredibly handsome.”

Anthony actually blushed. His pale skin reddened, and he turned his eyes down with a skewed grin. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “I like to take care of my looks. Say… I know there’s no second chance for a first impression, but is there any chance we can meet again? Just… So I can ask you about your hobbies and things like that?”

Tilting his head, Tim tried to read between the lines. Why would a straight, Polish, and apparently wealthy assistant manager want a second chance on his first impression on him? Again, he thought perhaps Ant was just looking for a friend. Looking at him, he wouldn’t mind at all to being that friend. He smiled. “Sure,” he said soothingly. “Do you run? We could go running together, tomorrow morning… That would give you hours to ask me about my hobbies.”

“Heh… It’s been a while. Don’t expect me to run a marathon.”

“I prefer the woods,” Tim chuckled. “We could meet and run, would you like that? I can text you the details to where I usually park. It should be dry, tomorrow.” Already the clouds were breaking up.

Ant nodded. “Let me give you my phone number.”

It was Tim’s turn to blush. He took his phone, and for a second thought about lying about saving the number already. He decided to be truthful. The last thing he wanted was to lie, with Ant being so honest and open. He tapped a message and sent it.

Surprised, Ant looked at his phone. “Hi, I already got your number, xx, Timmy,” he read. “Sneaky,” he chuckled. “When did you do that?”

Still blushing bashfully, Tim stroked the bang behind his ear again. “When you gave your number to the seller. I don’t know why I did it without telling you. I guess I wanted an opportunity to contact you, just in case.”

“In case of what?” Ant laughed.

“In case you disappeared,” Tim mumbled, eyes averted.

Ant laughed again, softer this time. “I disappeared only once, in my life. I have no intentions to do it again. Unless you have very strong and dangerous brothers…?”

No longer ashamed, Tim laughed out loud. “No, I have no brothers,” he chuckled. “And I won’t trick you into marriage either, I promise. Set your alarm, okay? Can you get up at five in the morning, you think?”

Sucking the air through his teeth, Ant pulled a face. “Jeesh, that’s quite a sacrifice, isn’t it? If that’s what it takes to get to know you, don’t bother…”

Tim grinned at him. “You’ll get over it. I’m worth it, I’m sure. I’ll text you the details later and expect you at the parking lot at six, okay? If you really can’t get out of bed, let me know in time. I won’t hold it against you.”

Ant promised to do his very best, and with that, they parted.Tim would be surprised if they would meet the next morning.

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