He's My Associate

by Cay Harrington

  Cooper held his breath as the door opened and closed again. The sound of steps dropped off abruptly and Cooper remembered what a mess he’d made of Ryan’s work space.

  “What on earth happened to your office?”

  Cooper squeezed his ankle so tight Ryan dug the toe of his shoe into his chest.

  “Ah. Mother, to what do I owe the pleasure? It’s rare I see you more than once in a day.”

  “Hm. Yes, if that,” came Gloria’s reply. “Did you fire someone again? You look riled.”

  That was a word for it.

  “No, no.” Cooper could tell Ryan was still trying to catch his breath. Trying to hide the fact it was lost in the first place. “It’s been a day. I’m feeling a little ill, actually.”

  “Go to bed early then. And you should really clean this up.”

  “After this brief is done.”

  “Hm.” Cooper didn’t hear anything for what seemed like endless minutes. Ryan’s knee jittered anxiously, hidden away. Cooper tried to calm him by rubbing a thumb over his ankle. He heard Gloria sigh, followed by the telltale squeak of the chair as she sat in it.

  “What is it? I’m very busy.”

  Another hum. Ryan’s jittering slowed.

  “I just wanted to thank you for inviting me to Alaska.”

  “Cooper invited you. Not me.”

  “I know that. Please pass on my thanks, besides.”

  Something hard settled in the back of Cooper’s throat at the tone of her voice. Sad, distant. Cooper wondered if Ryan even realized.

  “Tell him yourself.”

  Cooper glared at the offending houndstooth-sock-covered ankle in front of him.

  “Oh, is he here?”

  Ryan laughed, sounding not quite right. Cooper squeezed him again and it died off.

  “Are you doing alright, son?”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  Silence. “I do hope Alaska is…that Alaska will be nice,” Gloria told him. Another squeak of leather as she stood up. “I shall send a letter thanking Cooper myself. He seems to be a nice boy.”

  “He can be.”

  “He treats you well?” she asked.

  A pause, then, “Better than I deserve.”

  “Likely true.”

  Cooper could see where Ryan got it from.

  It sounded like she was heading back out and Cooper could feel more than hear the little sigh of relief Ryan let out as he sagged down in his seat.

  “Ryan?”

  He tensed again. Cooper moved his forearm up to hold Ryan’s calf in a loose embrace.

  “Yes?” He sounded tired.

  “You’re not just doing this to get around the will, correct?”

  Ryan straightened in his chair. Cooper leaned his temple against Ryan’s shin.

  “Contrary to how little faith you have in my capacity to feel, Mother, I am marrying Cooper. For real. He’s more than I deserve. He treats me like I mean something, like I matter to him. Even after he puts up with all the shit I put him through, he sticks around. Which is more than I can say of anyone else, myself included.”

  Cooper held his breath. His heart felt heavy right then.

  “Ryan.”

  “I have work to do.”

  Cooper couldn’t tell what was happening between Ryan and his mother just then. He wished so much to see what was transpiring in silence above him. Wished he could do something, about any of it.

  The door opened and closed and then they were alone.

  Ryan groaned, frustrated. He rolled back in his chair and met Cooper’s eyes.

  “Get up here.”

  Cooper obeyed, coming to rest on his knees so Ryan could lean the rest of the way down. Ryan kissed slow and sad in a way Cooper had never experienced from him, so he wrapped his arms around Ryan’s waist. Hugged him close until Ryan decided it was enough.

  “Now,” Ryan said after a long while, pulling back. “Help me straighten my office.

  The steakhouse was packed when they arrived. It was busier than Cooper imagined, and less high brow than where he’d pictured Ryan preferring to eat at. He’d always assumed Ryan went to upscale, three-Michelin-star restaurants; not steak joints that passed out laminated menus with crusted daubs of barbecue sauce to avoid accidentally sticking your finger in. Then again, he’d always imagined Ryan living in a glass house with three different sport cars too.

  Cooper smiled at the host as Ryan listed off his name for a table. Cooper placed a hand on Ryan’s lower back as they were led away, not missing the way Ryan not only let him but leaned back into the touch for a brief moment. They passed families eating everything from sandwiches to cuts of meat so rare they bled off the slab of wood they rested on.

  “You’ve never been here, I take it?” Ryan asked him as he sat in their chosen booth. He flipped his napkin up and folded it to lay across his waist. The host hurried off.

  Cooper did the same, eyeing the low lighting. “Nope.”

  Cooper read the menu front to back but when their waiter arrived, Ryan was the one to order for both of them.

  “Two 12oz filet mignons and your best Cabernet Sauvignon, thank you.”

  The waiter inclined her head, scribbling on her notepad.

  “Actually,” Cooper cut in, “I’ll have the ribeye.”

  “Good choice, sir.”

  Ryan watched him. “Why?”

  “The fat means more marbling, means it tastes better. A filet mignon is juicy sure, but the taste is boring. No use spending all this on something that’s not going to taste great.”

  Ryan seemed to consider it. “I’ll have the same, then.”

  She dipped her head once more before collecting their menus and heading off.

  “You eat steak a lot?”

  Ryan shrugged.

  “Is this your first time here, too?” Cooper asked, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

  Ryan didn’t answer him which was answer enough.

  “You know more about wine, at least.”

  Ryan snorted at that.

  “So, you go out to eat a lot?” Cooper asked.

  “Almost every night.”

  “No, I mean to places like this. Where you sit down and actually spend time in a nice restaurant.”

  “This isn’t exactly the highest of high-end establishments.”

  “Come on.”

  He shrugged again. “Not really. No time, no energy when I have the time. No one to go with,” he added on, more quietly.

  “Me either.”

  “You have all the time in the world,” Ryan huffed at him.

  Cooper shook his head, no. “You keep me plenty busy.”

  Ryan pursed his lips in thought. “You and May don’t go out to eat every now and again?”

  Was Ryan being serious? “Not as often as I’d like. What with being called in to work almost every single day and all.”

  Ryan’s lips twisted then, pulling down. “Well. That won’t be a problem anymore with your promotion.”

  He could push it. Could make Ryan suffer in limbo with the knowledge of how he’d robbed Cooper of so much of his life for the past year. Brush it off in a tease, or a joke.

  Anxious, Ryan began chewing on his lower lip. His fingers tapped nervously on the table as he stared down into the worn grain.

  Cooper reached forward and took Ryan’s hands up in his.

  “I don’t know. I think you’ll still find ways to keep me on a short leash,” Cooper murmured over to him. He hoped his try at sounding conspiring was working.

  Ryan blinked at him, jaw working. Cooper squeezed his hands.

  “Don’t give me ideas,” Ryan finally said, and seemed better for it.

  It was still light out enough that Cooper decided, yes, there was time. He brought out his bag of tools after parking in front of Ryan’s place. Ryan pulled into the spot beside him. He shut off his clunking car and climbed out, and his dark brows shot up when he spied Cooper’s tools.

  “I almost didn’t beli
eve you,” Ryan said, surprised. “Guess I get to listen to you hammering away for the next few hours?”

  “Depends on how long I’m welcome,” Cooper shot back, heart in his throat despite his best efforts to keep the nerves from his voice.

  Ryan’s smile then was thoughtful.

  “We’ll see.”

  A nervous energy had settled inside him since the steakhouse, not unlike the first time he’d been to Ryan’s place. He wondered if it would ever get easier, in time. Knew that it had to at some point. He fought to keep his knee from bouncing as he waited for Ryan to tackle his front door open. He hoped they’d hear no wayward gunshots that night.

  The hole on the opposite wall seemed larger than the day before.

  Ryan wasted no time in stepping through, heading straight for his bathroom.

  “Taking a shower. Have fun,” he called back. It wasn’t five minutes before the water was running. Cooper was left to himself.

  The very first step inside Cooper noticed a squeak beneath his shoe. He set his bag down and shifted his weight, testing the source. Fingered the edge of the runner to flip it over and press with his knuckles on the squeaking linoleum. He’d have to cut it and peel it up if he wanted to fix it. Probably had hardwood underneath like older places sometimes did. Terrible old fad. At least the landlord wouldn’t mind, with how attentive he’d clearly been with the rest of the place, falling apart like it was. Better to have the original hardwood anyway.

  Sighing, Cooper took out what he needed and set to work on the door. He replaced all four bolts, had to hammer the little sheet of metal flat and it was good as new. Realized in the middle of working that the topmost hinge holding the door to the threshold was loose and creaking itself. He frowned and fixed that next.

  Not two feet into the kitchen did he spy a crack in the wall above Ryan’s toaster. Everywhere he turned there was a new surprise, and he wondered how Ryan could have possibly stood living here for almost a decade of his life without basic improvements.

  He checked the mold beneath the sink again and set to scrubbing and bleaching that first. Then he checked the sink pipes for any leaks. Just one, small enough to explain the plastic cup that was sitting beneath it.

  As Cooper went along, he made a mental list of items to pick up. Plaster, epoxy, drywall patches, new wheels for the drawers, at least three square feet of new tile he was sure he could match the color to next time…it went on and on. Maybe he’d add a new coat of paint, something bright to breathe some life into the space. Wondered if he could convince Ryan to leave for a day while he set to work on sprucing everything up.

  Cooper pushed that idea down far. He was getting ahead of himself.

  He was nailing a loose drawer back together when the water shut off. He braced himself, knowing Ryan was surely going to have plenty to say about how he had his tools spread out in the hall, the kitchen, the counters…new problems and more solutions waiting to be carried out.

  Then Ryan shut the door to the bathroom and the kitchen light went out with a snap. Cooper groaned, glaring up at the old dusty thing.

  Ryan rounded the corner, shirtless and with a towel around his waist. He blinked at Cooper, pinching a dark curl behind one ear.

  “Oh. Yeah, that happens sometimes,” Ryan said, casual. “Sometimes when I close the fridge, the breaker flips.”

  Cooper swallowed looking at him. Saw drops of water trail languid down his pale chest.

  “That sounds like a major electrical problem,” he managed. “You got any spare bulbs?”

  Ryan hummed. “Maybe. Check the hall closet.” And he left again, seeming unbothered.

  Cooper could hardly concentrate as he did as Ryan suggested. He could hear Ryan shuffling through his closet, the tiny huffs of breath as he got dressed. Cooper stopped thinking. Instead, he found a half used box of lightbulbs, grabbed one and the step stool folded in the corner.

  Ryan came back out in sweats and bare feet. Cooper glared down at him from his spot at the top of the step stool, new bulb in hand as he fought to line it up.

  “What now?” Ryan asked him, already sounding annoyed.

  “You should wear shoes in this disaster of a kitchen.”

  Ryan glared back up at him. “It’s my kitchen. I know where I’m walking.”

  Cooper shook his head. He turned back to the light, trying again to line up the bulb. Every turn just pushed it further away. He grunted. “I don’t know how you haven’t gotten tetanus yet.”

  “What was that?”

  “I said,” he said, “I don’t know why you haven’t gotten tetanus yet. This place is a danger zone.”

  Ryan crossed his arms, watching him work. Or try to, anyway. “Construction zone now, really. You really made yourself at home, didn’t you.”

  “Ha ha.” Cooper swore when it didn’t work for a fifth time. “There’s something wrong, this isn’t the right lightbulb.”

  “Yes it is. You just have to press it in harder.”

  “I’m trying.” Cooper tried again and winced at the resulting loud scrape. “I hope you’re not overly fond of this kitchen light.”

  He heard a rush of breath below him but couldn’t afford to turn away now. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

  Cooper frowned. “I could find another fixture. Could take the rim off, use my whole hand. The wiring looks tricky, though.” He sighed again, more frustrated by the minute. “Gonna have to get my whole arm in here. I’m ready to punch the damn thing in.”

  Ryan didn’t answer him right away and Cooper worried he’d overstayed his welcome already. Ryan probably wasn’t ready for him to commit to week long fix-it-up projects.

  “Oh,” Ryan finally muttered. He sounded out of breath. Probably upset, Cooper thought. “Really?”

  “Yeah. I could try and just force it,” Cooper offered, going to try exactly that.

  “No!” Ryan cried. “Gently! Do it gently.”

  “Ryan, I’m going to have to really get this in here. I don’t think gentle is going to cut it.”

  “Cooper, you will not be forcing anything inside of my…my fixture.”

  Cooper threw his hands up, bulb firmly in his hold. He finally looked down, met Ryan’s odd gaze. One eyebrow tilted up in that funny way that told Cooper Ryan was nervous. And he was flushed, cheeks and part of his neck red. The water heater was probably turned too high, he’d have to take a look at that next.

  “I tried grabbing the wires with three fingers, Ryan. I don’t know what to tell you. This thing as it is is gonna need a whole lot more than three fingers to be ready for anything else. It needs an entire new fixture to go on.”

  Ryan nodded slow, eyes wide.

  “I might need your help fitting it inside, Ryan.”

  After waiting a beat with no response Cooper went back to work. Ryan slapped his leg and started climbing on top of his kitchen counter, one hand braced against the stool to steady himself. He was eye level with Cooper soon enough and he grabbed at the light himself.

  “You’re useless. I’ll show you how to do it. I do this all the time by myself,” Ryan rushed out.

  Cooper tried to help by twisting the screw in but Ryan made a shocked sound.

  “Stop that. Put your thumb here, yes, like that. Now your other finger there, yes, perfect. Now hold there while I twist it around.”

  “I’m trying, my finger isn’t on the right screw I don’t think.”

  “Oh, yes it is.”

  “Ryan, let me just try a little to the left—”

  Ryan gasped, eyes narrowing dangerously at him. “You move another inch and I will push you off this stool.”

  Cooper breathed out harsh through his nose.

  “My hand is cramping. How much longer?”

  “Trust me, Cooper.”

  “It’s not going in right.”

  “It’s going in just fine. You just can’t see it from your angle.”

  “It doesn’t feel right, Ryan.”

  “I think it feels perfect, n
ow can you please shut up.” Finally, the bulb slid home. “See? You didn’t have to use your whole arm or anything.”

  Ryan slid his arm up to steady himself with a hand at Cooper’s back instead of the stool.

  “Your apartment is a nightmare, Ryan.”

  Ryan climbed back down first, holding a hand out for Cooper to take. He didn’t let go even when Cooper was on equal footing again.

  “It is. But it’s home.”

  He looked down to where Ryan held his hand. He felt a squeeze, a mirror from earlier at dinner. Cooper smiled, stepping into Ryan’s space.

  “Now,” Cooper whispered, pressing an open mouthed kiss to Ryan’s flushed cheek, “Lead me to your water heater.”

  Ryan made a face. “Why?”

  “You’re far too flushed in the face after your shower. It might need an adjustment.”

  Ryan drew back from him, a hand on his chest. He gave him a wondering look.

  “What is it?”

  “You’re going to adjust my knobs?”

  “Yes. Can’t be having scorching showers all the time. You’ll pass out.”

  Ryan’s mouth split on a grin.

  “Cooper,” he said, leveling him a look. “You’re telling me you want to touch my knob, to make sure I only get just hot enough?”

  “Yeah…?” He blinked and Ryan laughed.

  Then it clicked and it was Cooper’s turn to blush.

  He cast a wary glance back at the newly shining kitchen light.

  “Thanks for that.”

  “You were just on such a roll.”

  He groaned, letting Ryan’s shoulder catch his forehead.

  Ryan led him to the couch, laughing all the way.

  “No more work for now,” he said. “Let’s find a movie.”

  An hour later, Ryan’s head pillowed on his chest, his fingers threaded loose in dark hair, he realized he was happy. Really happy. Ryan was asleep, half draped over him. He could smell Ryan’s citrus shampoo. He could feel himself dozing, warm and thoroughly sunk in under Ryan’s weight.

  Cooper wouldn’t move for the world.

  Cooper woke slowly. The memory of the night before drifted back to him. Ryan falling asleep on top of him, fingers twitching against his sides in sleep, the warm puff of breath on his cheek.

  Now, he felt first the trail of those fingers, light over his chest, his stomach, down to his groin to cup his morning erection before they left altogether. Cooper hummed in displeasure, grumbling when he heard Ryan’s answering quiet laughter beside him before that same hand found his cheek. Cooper opened his eyes.