Eric & Matt

My father’s boss, Thomas Smith, had come to the house to discuss some issues from work.  He was also there to offer me a job.  I had just graduated with a computer science degree, and I knew that the IT department at Smith and Company was too much for Eric Smith to handle on his own.  Eric’s father ran the company, so I wasn’t sure how keen I was on working for the boss’s son; however, I understood that the pay was going to be good.  Mr. Smith knew I was a responsible young man, so I couldn’t wait to hear the offer.

But I was also interested in hearing what was going on that forced the two of them to meet away from the office. I was as close as I dared be.

“So, John, the forensic audit came in, and it turns out that Ray Hubbard has been diverting funds. They’ll be arresting him this afternoon. We need to look for another head accountant. Unless you think one of the junior guys can handle it.”

“Fuck,” said my dad, “I was hoping it was just an accounting error. I’m glad you convinced me to go outside for an audit.”

“I’m putting you in charge of his replacement. You do what you think is best, and I’m going to step back from that. Now, about the IT job.”

“Well, Tom, I’ve talked to Matt about it. I think it would be a good move. I think his only concern is working for your son.”

“Yeah, I can understand that. Eric is smart, but he’s a fucking long-haired geek faggot. And he smells horrible all the time. I’ve left notes for him about bathing more often, but nothing changes. After the divorce, he seemed to become a momma’s boy. I love the kid, don’t get me wrong, but he’s an A number one weirdo.”

I thought back to when Eric and I were about twelve. He told me about two boys in his neighborhood that charged five dollars for someone to watch one of them perform oral sex on the other. I kept thinking afterward that I wished Eric had asked me to do oral sex with him. I wondered what it’d be like to suck him, and I wondered what it would have been like for him to suck me. I wondered how soon it’d be before I’d see him again. I took a deep breath.
Eric’s father was still talking. “Eric does a great job, though. He’s just overwhelmed, and I’m not sure he’ll want to manage someone, so I’m thinking about letting them be on equal footing--they can divide up the workload.”

“Sounds good to me; let me go get Matthew.” My dad came up to the first landing and saw me hiding there. He gave me the stinkeye. “Matt!” he shouted. “Will you come down.”
I turned so I was shouting back up the stairs. “Be right there.” I gave him the stinkeye right back. I waited a few moments and then I came bounding down the stairs. “Good morning, Mr. Smith.” I smiled.

“Hello, Matt. Are you ready to start work tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” I smiled even more broadly.

“Here’s the offer letter.” He retrieved a piece of paper from his bag.

I took the letter and sat in a chair. My father had already told me what to expect in the letter. The salary was more, twenty thousand more. I tried to remain calm. I turned to Mr. Smith. “I accept. Do you want me to report to work tomorrow, then?”

“That will be perfect. I’ll let Eric know that you’ll be joining him, and you two can decide how to divide the responsibilities of the department after HR gets done with all the paperwork.” He turned to my father. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow, John.”

After closing the door, my dad said, “I guess you’ll be moving out, on your own and leaving me alone in this big old house.”

“Not on your life, Dad. I’m not done aggravating you, yet. In fact, I think I’ll go in your bathroom, take a shit, forget to flush, take a shower, and use up all your towels.”

“So, status quo.” He laughed, and so did I.

Has anyone ever questioned the stupidity of HR training? I’m a grown-ass man. Do I need to be told not to call people names, not to talk about their private parts? I was even told not to tell a guy that I like a shirt he’s wearing and ask him where he got it because someone might be offended. Offended that I like his shirt? What kind of fucking world is this? The bottom line from all the videos and presentations: don’t talk to anyone at work; don’t look at anyone at work. With my first paycheck, I’m joining Grindr.

I hadn’t seen Eric since we were about twelve years old. I remember he was shy and awkward. I’d heard he graduated from college at age twenty and had been working here ever since. I would not have recognized him. He was six feet two; still scrawny, he probably weighed one hundred twenty. He was wearing an ugly plaid shirt that wasn’t tucked in. He’d mismatched the buttons, so one side was lower than the other. He was wearing a dangly earring in one ear and a stud in the other. Worst of all, he had his hair pulled up in a man bun.

Maybe the training in HR was so I wouldn’t tell him that he had done everything to detract from his perfectly chiseled face with the perfect cheekbones. As I got near him, I realized that his brilliantly white and straight teeth were no match for his soiled shirt, was that mustard, I hoped, or his sour smell.

We didn’t make any small talk; we didn’t say how good it was to see one another again. He got right to business. “I made a to-do list here in this book. I thought we could initial and date it when we get the job finished, or write notes about it. I don’t know whether we should update the page every day or every week.

“I think that every day keeps a better log, but it could end up being a lot of writing.”

“That’s what I was wondering,” said Eric. So we’ll just add tasks at the bottom of the list, and we take the next job at the top of the list.”

“OK,” I nodded.

“And if one of us is stymied by the task, we can talk about it. There could be things that one of us is better suited for or things that we should do together.”

“I agree,” I said, but I found it interesting that he used the word ‘stymied.’

“Let’s meet back here at four-forty-five to see how things are wrapping up.”

The day went smoothly as far as I could tell. I retrieved my lunch from my father’s mini-fridge and ate alone in the breakroom before going about the next items on the to-do list. I was surprised at how quickly the afternoon went. I got two printers back online and set up a workstation in a cubicle that was scheduled to be occupied in two days.

My next task was to repair a station that had intermittent problems with connectivity. I wasn’t surprised once I saw the mess of wires under the desk. Half of them looked worn from being kicked. The whole thing needed to be rewired with undamaged cables. I began to clean the area. I had about half of the cables removed and labeled when Eric showed up.

“Hey, man, it’s almost four-thirty. You have a good stopping point?”

“This might be a never-ending mess,” I chuckled. “I’ll need to work on it tomorrow.” I stood up and his smell made my eyes water. I would have to say something, just how?

I followed him back to our official work area. He had already updated the logbook. I took a few minutes to update my part.

“Did things go OK?” he asked.

“Yeah, they did. I’m going to like it here.”

“I’m glad,” said Eric. “I remember you from when we were little, and you were always nice to me. I used to pretend you were my friend, and I’d ask my mother to let you visit. She didn’t want people to come over, and she didn’t like it when my father took me places. I didn’t like going to most places because, you know, people aren’t always nice.”

“I wish I’d known that. I always had fun when you came over,” I told him.

“Maybe we can do things after work as real friends do.” His tone was quiet and soft; he was lonely. His voice told me so.

“We could… um… grab a bite to eat, I suppose.”

He smiled. How could his teeth be so white? His smile was nice. “I’d like that, Matt.”

“I need to say something to you.” I saw him frown. “Hey, I’m not going to say anything unless you realize that I’m doing this because I’m your friend.”

“You hate my hair, don’t you. My dad’s always making fun of it.”

“Eric, this isn’t about your hair.” I stood up. “Actually, you’re right. I don’t like your hair. Well, that’s not really true, it’s the way you wear it. I don’t like it when guys put their hair up.”

“But it gets in my face.”

“You need to get it cut,” I said.

“But I don’t want to be like everyone else.” He was still frowning. “I’m different. I want to look different.”

“Even if you got a haircut like someone else, it would not be the same because it’d still be you. And, anyway, this isn’t just about your hair. How often do you brush your teeth, Eric?

“What’s wrong with my teeth?”

“Nothing, Eric. Your teeth are perfect. You have a beautiful smile. How often do you take care of them?”

“Three times a day.”

“And how often do you take a shower and change your clothes?”

“I get nervous in the shower, so I wash with a dish towel unless I get muddy or something. And I like these clothes. I wear them for a few days and then air them out. That’s the way my mother taught me.”

I saw his lip tremble. I needed a way to say this next part and not hurt his feelings. “Eric, when I first saw you this morning, I wanted to run up to you and hug you. You’re right; we were friends when we were little, and although it had been a while since we saw each other, that hadn’t changed. We hadn’t seen each other because of our parents, not because we’d had a fight or anything. The point is, I couldn’t hug you. Your clothes smell bad; airing them out doesn’t get rid of the smell.”

“Oh.” The way he said it made me feel as if I’d broken his heart. “But my mother says not to use the washing machine because it wears out your clothes.”

“Leaving dirt in them is bad for them. The oils and acids from your body damage the fibers.” I wasn’t sure how much of that was true, but I’d always assumed it, so that’s what I told him.
“Does your apartment complex have a laundry?”

“There’s a washing machine in my apartment? It’s one with a dryer on the top. Mom says those make your clothes shrink.”

“Only if you use it incorrectly.” His mother had done him a big disservice.”

“Let’s go to your place before we go out to eat. OK? We can get your clothes clean, and I’ll bet you’ll feel a lot better.”

“You still want to get something to eat with me?”

“Silly,” I smiled. “We’re friends. Of course I do. Should I follow you, or should we ride together?”
“I walk to work,” said Eric.

“Yeah? Where do you live?”

“Baker and 14th.”

“Fuck. Eric, that’s five miles from here.”

“So? It’s good exercise. And I don’t have a real reason to get home fast.”

I just imagined how sweaty he’d be when he finally got home. “I’ll drive.”

On the way to his place, Eric pointed out various landmarks on the way there. He was surprised at how quickly we made it, and he had me laughing when he would bring up things we’d done when we were little kids that I had forgotten about.

He opened the door to his apartment, and as I went in, I noticed the smell of sweaty socks.
“Where’s the washer?” I asked. He led me to the small closet next to his bedroom. I examined the washer and realized we had no soap. “Do you have vinegar?”

He sighed and went to the kitchen and brought me an unopened bottle of white vinegar.
“Here’s how we do this,” I told him. I started the washer so it began to fill with warm water. “Put a cup of vinegar in.”

“Do you want a measuring cup?”

“No, I’ll just eyeball it.” I dumped in what seemed like a cup. “You want to mix the vinegar with the water before adding clothes. Now, bring me a pair of shorts, underwear, and some socks. Just one set of each.”

He came back with what I’d requested. He handed them to me. I thought I would vomit from the smell. I put all of them in the washer. “Take off the shirt you’re wearing. It needs to be washed as well.”

“Matt, why are you doing this?”

“Eric, we’re friends; we’re also co-workers. It’s like we’re partners. Not only do I want you to present the best image to the people we work with. I want people to look up to you. Selfishly, I want to be able to stand next to you when we’re at meetings. Honestly, Eric, your personal hygiene needs to change. You need to take care of all of you and your clothes the way you take care of your teeth.”

He removed his shirt and handed it to me. I put it in the washer and started the cycle.
I turned and looked at him. He had to be the thinnest person I’d ever seen. He tilted his chin up and looked at me. His eyes seemed slightly moist. Fuck, I heard myself think. If it weren’t for that stupid man-bun, he’d be really hot. “OK, let’s sort the rest of your clothes, and then you’re going to take a shower. I want you to wash your hair and scrub every inch of your body.”

The corners of his mouth lifted in a closed-lip smile, and I noticed the little cleft he had in his chin. My dick twitched. “Sooner we start, sooner we’re done, and we can go out for some fun. Not that washing clothes isn’t fun.”

He chuckled.

I realized that I was honestly enjoying helping him, spending this small domestic episode with him.

He made a pile of underwear near the door. I know there are guys who are turned on my dirty underwear, but I couldn’t believe how strong the musky scent of a dirty crotch emanated from the pile. “These are all of your underwear?”

“Except for the pair I’m wearing. I have seven.”

“And you air them out as well?”

“Well, if I leak or something, I rinse them out in the sink.”

I heard the washing machine’s agitator change direction. I wondered if I should have used more vinegar. I questioned putting more in for the rinse cycle.

“Pants there and socks there and shirts over here.”

He made neat piles.

“We’re going to do towels, too, but after these are done. OK, time to strip. Put what you’re wearing in a pile. Check your pockets.” As he removed the rest of his clothing, he dropped them into the appropriate pile.

When he was standing next to me completely naked, I turned and looked at him. He was so skinny, he was gaunt. His dick seemed large for his body, although it was about the same size as mine. He appeared to have about seven inches of erect penis on him.

“It’s exciting to get clean clothes, isn’t it.”

“Huh?”

He didn’t get my joke. “Never mind. Into the bathroom.” I followed him into a spotless bathroom. In fact, his entire apartment was as neat as a pin. Immaculate. I started the shower. I took the bar of Dove from the sink and grabbed a washcloth. I saw a bottle of shampoo-conditioner combination on the back of the toilet. “Get into the shower and wash your hair.”

He took a deep breath and got in. He undid the bun and allowed his hair to fall. It was about shoulder-length and scraggly. He ran his fingers through it, gently forming a lather. He rinsed the soap out and lathered a second time. Once, he had rinsed his hair a second time. I gave him the washcloth and the bar of soap. “Remember, every inch of you gets scrubbed with the soap. I’m going to check on the clothes.”

The washer was almost finished, so I went into his kitchen to find some aluminum foil. I opened what looked like a pantry door and found it easily. He was certainly the most organized person I’d ever known. I took a sheet and made a ball with it, and after putting the box back and closing the pantry door, I went back to the washing machine. It had finished so I moved the clothes to the dryer, tossed in the foil ball, and started the dryer.

I began working on washing the underwear. How could such a sweet man live like this? What had his mother told him? A horrible thought ran through my head. Did she know this type of behavior would ostracize him? Did she do it on purpose, or was she ill?

“Matt!” Eric called my name from the bathroom. I went in and he was still in the shower. “Am I as clean as you wanted?”

I approached him. “Lift your arms.” I buried my face in his wet armpit. It smelled like Dove soap. I switched to the other side, same nice smell. “Smells nice," I told him.

“I washed really well around my dick and my ass, too. My skin feels really nice.”

“Dry off, and I’ll check on the clothes.”

Eric stepped out of the shower, and I noticed his toes. His toenails, more precisely.

“We need to get you a manicure and a pedicure.”

“You’re putting an awful lot of things on the list.” He smiled with a slight chuckle.

“We can do some of them tomorrow.” I went to the dryer. “Almost finished. Another ten minutes. Finish drying off, and when your clothes are dry, we’ll go for dinner.” I tried not to watch Eric as he finished toweling, but I was drawn to the way his ass and leg muscles flexed. I imagined removing my clothes and pressing into him. He turned and looked at me. I glanced away quickly, but not before I saw his cheeks redden. My face grew warm as well. I leaned back and waited as the dryer counted down. I could sense his standing next to me, but I resisted looking at him.

Finally, the buzzer sounded.

“I didn’t know that it did that,” said Eric.

“When it’s done drying. Here.” I handed him his clothes. “I’ll put the next batch in the dryer and get more washing.” I went into the living room when I was done. Eric was seated and tying his shoes. He stood up.

“So how is this?”

I walked up to him. His hair hung down on his face, but he smelled nice. I hugged him. “You smell really good.”

He smiled and hugged me back. “You’re the best friend I ‘ve ever had.”

“Same for me. What do you want to eat? What’s your favorite?”

“My father once took me for some fried oysters when I was little. My mother said they were disgusting things, but I like them. I’ve always wanted more.”

“You know that you could have had them anytime you wanted them, right?”

“No. When I ate them the first time, I was with my dad. He liked me then. He doesn’t anymore.”

“He does love you. I heard him say so to my dad. He just doesn’t understand you.”

“But, Matt, you like me, right.”

“Yes. I do.”

“Then let’s get some fried oysters. Friends should never eat fried oysters alone.” Eric smiled at me and off we went.

An hour and a half later, our stomachs were filled with oysters and iced tea, and we were walking back to the car. “This place does haircuts,” Eric said as we walked past a hair and nail salon. “Let’s check it out.”

We went in and I was surprised when he told the cosmetologist that he wanted a haircut like mine but a little longer on the sides. We left with Eric looking very sexy and appointments for pedicures the next day. I took him back home, and he folded the clothes from the dryer as I got another load going.

“So, are you going to take your shower tonight before bed or in the morning?”

“In the morning so I smell the freshest I can.” He offered me water, but I declined. I need to wash the sheets. I noticed a bit ago that they don’t smell very fresh, and I don’t have any others.”

“You’ve got clean clothes for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I do.”

I worried that it was too soon after seeing him again in such a long time, but I stepped closer to him. Maybe it was the oysters. “You know, Eric.”

He turned and our eyes locked.

“I’ve got clean sheets at home.”

“You mean at your dad’s house?”

“Yep. You could come to spend the night? Why don’t we bring the clothes for tomorrow with us, and you stay with me tonight?”

“You think that’s a good idea, Matt? I mean especially since you’re the sexiest guy I know, and you’ve been making my dick rock hard since I first saw you this morning.”

I moved my cheek next to his and my hand brushed in front of his crotch. “I think you’ve been making me harder than I have made you.” His hand gripped my dick through my pants.

“I don’t think so.” He chuckled and smiled.

My dick throbbed.

“Oh, well now,” said Eric. “What was that?”

“You know what that fucking was. You’ve been doing that to me all day. Come home with me. Maybe we can do what I’ve wanted to do since we were twelve.”

“You’ve wanted to be with me since we were twelve?” Eric moved his head so that our temples were touching.

“Uh-huh. Since you first told me about oral sex, I wanted to do it with you. And even more.” I felt Eric’s hand moved to the side of my head. His fingers moved through my hair.

“Oh, Matt.” He turned his head slightly and rubbed his lips across mine.

I was sure I released some precum into my underwear.

“Get your clothes, Eric.”

Without saying a word, he retrieved a paper sack from his kitchen. I watched him put a clean pair of underwear and shirt into the back. With a slight panic in his voice, he said, “the pants aren’t washed yet.”

“It’s OK to wear those again, you’ve only had them on for a few hours.”

I saw him smile, and my heart began to beat faster. I took his hand and kissed him before we got back in my car.

“It’s been so long since I was at your house, Matt.”

“I remember how upset I was when my dad told me that your parents were living apart and you wouldn’t be coming over anymore. He told me you had moved, but he didn’t know where. I would have tried to visit you if I’d known where you were.”

“My mother wouldn’t have let me see you. She’d caught me writing down directions to your house that I got on the Internet. She forced me to sit on the couch for three days without any food for trying to meet with the people that ruined her life.”

“It sounds awful.”

“Yeah, but she can’t keep me away from you now.”

I pulled into the driveway. I didn’t recognize the car that I parked next to. Eric and I went into the house to find my father with his. “Hey, Dad. Hello, Mr. Smith. Is everything OK?”

“We’re just talking work stuff,” said my father. “Who is this you have with you?”

I turned to look at Eric. “This is Eric, Dad.”

My father’s face froze. I saw Mr. Thomas’s mouth drop open.

“Hi, Dad,” said Eric.

Eric’s father stood up. “What the fuck happened to you? You look fucking amazing.” His father moved closer to him and put his arms out. “I didn’t recognize you, son.”

Eric hugged his father. “Matt took me out to dinner. He didn’t like the way my hair looked with it pulled up, so I got a haircut. No big deal.”

“Except that you look so handsome.”

“Dad.” Eric’s tone was that of embarrassment.

I decided to embarrass him a little further.  “Well, he was handsome before. He was just hiding it. Anyway, we’ve got some work things we’re going to discuss, so we’re going upstairs for a top-secret meeting. We’re going to work late into the night, I’m sure. So, no interruptions, thank you.” I headed for the stairs.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Johnson. I love you, Dad.” Eric followed me up the stairs. My father told me that Mr. Smith had started to cry from happiness in seeing the change in Eric.

When I closed and locked the door to my room, I began to wonder whether the feelings I’d felt as a kid, the ones that made me question whether I was in love with Eric and betrayed by his parents were valid. Were the feelings I’d had earlier a rekindling of those feelings, or was this a new fire that was starting.

“I want to take a shower before we get into bed,” I told Eric.

“I want to take one with you. I’d wanted you to join me earlier, but I was afraid to ask you. I won’t be afraid to ask you in the future.”

“I’d be happy to have you join me,” I told him.

Once in the shower, I scrubbed his back with my loofah, and he scrubbed mine. I would not have shared my loofah with anyone else in the world. I wondered whether all the kissing we were doing with the water running over our heads would cause chapped lips. By the time we got out of the shower, neither of us had been cleaner, not in our entire lives. As we stood, facing one another, I tilted my head up slightly to look into his eyes. I pulled a towel from the stack and covered his head with it. I took another and wrapped it around his shoulders. He grabbed one and wrapped it around me. Between kissing, toweling, blotting, and playing with the towels, we spent over fifteen minutes getting dry so we could head to bed.

We stood next to the bed looking at it. Both of us had erections that confirmed that we were within a quarter of an inch of one another in length. “This is the first time I’ve had another guy in my room, so you’ll be the first guy in my bed.”

Eric dropped to his knees. “I don’t want you to ever need another guy in your bed. I know that’s not likely, but I’m willing to chance it. But it starts with friendship and respect, which we already have. It builds with keeping the other person happy, fulfilled, and so many other things. I hope this makes you happy.” He put his hand on my hips and slid my hard penis into his mouth. Everything he did was as I had imagined. His tongue moved across my shaft as he pulled me deep into his mouth; there was a brief resistance as he swallowed my head into his throat and buried his nose in my pubic hair. It was a completely new sensation that overwhelmed my senses. It only took minutes and I was coming. He swallowed all my seed, and when he pulled his mouth off me and looked up at me, I could easily imagine our doing that every night of my life.

Eric sat on the bed and by the touch of his hand, I knew he wanted me to sit next to him. He kissed my hand. “I have a fake penis named ‘Matthew’ at home, and I’ve practiced for this moment.”

“You named your fake penis after me?” I chuckled and smiled and teared up.

“I didn’t officially name him, but that’s what I’ve always called him.”

“So when you played with it, oh, excuse me, when you played with him, you thought of me?”

“Yeah, and when I found out that you were going to work with me, I was ecstatic and terrified.”

“And did you imagine this?” I pushed him back and went down on him. I was nowhere near as good as he was, but he was moaning. I stopped and kissed him. I moved to his nipples; he moaned even more loudly. His feet were still on the floor, and I got between his knees and licked his scrotum. I sucked his balls up to my lips and then into my mouth.

I bobbed my head up and down his shaft again a few times, and he came. I tried to swallow, but I could only get some of it. The rest dribbled down my chin. Eric sat up and laughed; he wiped my chin clean and then kissed me.

I got up and turned off the light. I moved back to the bed and pulled the cover down. “Let’s get under the covers.”

We snuggled together. “Matt, I need to tell you something.”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t like butt stuff. It kind of disgusts me.”

“You mean intercourse.”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” said Eric.

“I’m glad to hear that, actually. I’ve tried playing with my hole, and I didn’t like it.”

“You’re perfect, Matt.”

“I’m not perfect, Eric.”

“Well, you’re perfect for me, Matt.” Eric wrapped his arms around me.

I had a feeling that he was perfect for me, too.