Satisfaction Guaranteed

by Samantha M. Derr

  "Ugh, are you kidding?" Jessan attempted to throw an elbow in return, but it put his chips at risk, so he withdrew. "Apply to my favorite geek merch site, get rejected, then make the ego-destroying choice of whether to keep buying from them even though I got turned down, or go cold turkey and deprive myself of something I enjoy out of spite."

  "Wow." Marina's eyes were wide. "Are you done? It's not like you're asking them to prom, Jessan. You hate this job. You want another job. They're coming here, with jobs. Did you think it was so you could save on shipping costs?"

  "Uh, no." But he was lying; it had been his first thought.

  Once again, Marina took advantage of his occupied hands to sidle close and punch him in the shoulder. "What are you waiting for? You've got nothing to lose."

  Jessan sighed. Except my pride, my sense of self-worth, and my illusions I might get the job until they see me in person. "Yeah, okay. Like last night, huh?"

  Marina raised her hands. "Whatever happened between you and Hot Guy was between two consensual adults. Did he break any promises?"

  "Well, no."

  "Then let's move on with our lives, and figure out what you need to do in order to get that job."

  *~*~*

  The pinnacle of his long day involved a forty-five minute call with a customer who refused to understand the concept that they had to pay the minimum balance on their outstanding account in order to keep buying things. Darnell took up the last fifteen minutes of Jessan's shift lecturing him about things he already knew (policies) and factors that were out of his control (keeping call times down), and Jessan was seething by the time he left the building. The final call had trashed his good call record for the day, maybe the week, and if he slipped any further he would be brought in for disciplinary action.

  Jessan trudged from the call center to the bus stop, shoulders hunched against the cold as much as the lingering specter of his long day. His luck might have been turning. The bus was already at the curb, and he climbed aboard, showed his pass, and turned down the aisle to take his pick of empty seats. That time of day, there was only one other bus rider, a girl with her bulky coat buttoned up to her throat, earbuds in, and eyes firmly glued on an open book. Jessan pulled out his phone and headed for a seat in the back of the bus.

  Most peoples' response to a day from Hell would be to act out in any number of ways. Jessan still had the information for Atelier Geek pulled up on a window of his smartphone and it reminded him, once again, of his own inadequacies. He wanted sex; he got sex and lost the guy. He wanted a new job; he got handed a ribboned invitation, and as for what came next… he didn't know if he could take the leap. Instead, he called his mother.

  "Hey, baby," Kiyana greeted him.

  Jessan pulled in a breath as the endearment reminded him that Felipe had called him that, two shifts and forever ago. If he ever saw the guy again, he'd have to tell him 'baby' wasn't a good fit. "Hey, Mama." He darted a quick look around the bus to make sure no one could hear him, though he already knew the other occupant was listening to music and the bus driver was too far forward, and sitting close to the engine.

  "What's happening with you?"

  "How much time do you have?" Jessan huffed and settled into the hard plastic seat, crossing his legs.

  "All the time in the world," Kiyana assured him. "Your father is out at the college tonight, so it is only me and the cats."

  "Scritch them hello from me." Jessan bit his lip, a pang of homesickness knifing him. His apartment didn't allow pets, and he missed the ones he'd left behind.

  "Sure thing; until Bittle nips." Kiyana laughed, and Jessan echoed it, somewhat more quiet. "So what is happening with my favorite son?"

  "I'm your only son," Jessan pointed out.

  "Doesn't mean you can't be my favorite." He could hear the smile in Kiyana's voice, and wondered if customers heard something different when his own smile was forced and ill-fitting.

  "I… met a guy," Jessan said. It probably made him weird, some kind of statistical exception, but when he had romantic troubles he talked through them with his mother, not any of his friends. For one, most of his friends were girls who couldn't give him the guy perspective; for another, his mother tended to give good advice and he told her almost everything.

  Almost. A guy had his limits.

  "Oh, Jessan." There was a pause, and Kiyana continued more softly. "And you're not happy about it, or you would not be calling."

  "He basically kicked me out this morning, after I thought… well, I don't know what I thought." Jessan scratched at his scalp between a couple of rows. "He seemed to like me. I hoped he wanted to get to know me."

  "How did he leave it?" Kiyana asked.

  "Huh…? Oh." Jessan had to search through his memory. "He said he had a great time, and he'd see me later."

  "I am guessing this was not a date he tried to kick you out from," Kiyana said. Her voice was full of suppressed laughter.

  "Mama," Jessan whined. "We've been through this, you don't want those details."

  "So he wants to see you again," Kiyana said. "I think that you, my pretty son, are over-thinking this."

  "Yeah?" Jessan tried not to sound too unsure.

  "Definitely," Kiyana said. She spoke with confidence. "If you like him, my son, then you go see him again."

  Jessan screwed up his face in a grimace. He'd suspected she might say that. "But I met him in a club, and I didn't get his number."

  Kiyana snorted. "Then you go to that club again."

  "I think my Mama just told me to go clubbing," Jessan said, cupping his phone closer to his ear. "Did I really hear that?"

  "You're an adult now, and Mama knows how these things go." Kiyana laughed softly. "Now, Jessan, what else is happening in your life?"

  Jessan shifted, uncrossed his legs and slouched into his chair, and glanced up at the stop the front bus display lifted. "Which do you want first, the lousy first shift, the horrible second shift, or the scary job opportunity?"

  "Dealer's choice."

  *~*~*

  The next day was better. It usually was, in the way of things, barring natural disaster—even that prospect wasn't far-fetched, given the frequent tornados that swept through the Midwest. Fortunately the weather was mild, the customers varied from pleasant to tolerable, and the only sour note was enduring a browbeating from Darnell on his way in the door.

  "You really need to apply for that job," Marina said when she stopped by on her way to break. Darnell had noticed the pattern over the two previous days, and his lecture at the door had been aimed at part toward putting a stop to their gatherings. "Who was it with? Atta Geek?"

  Jessan covered his mouthpiece and sent her a half-hearted glare. "What are my other options?"

  "File a harassment complaint against him." Marina shrugged.

  "Right, that would go well," Jessan said with thick sarcasm. "'It's reverse racism, HR person. He picks on me because I'm black.'"

  "If he does, he should be called out for it!"

  Jessan shook his head and changed the subject. "Did you go to C Street last night? Did you see Felipe?"

  Marina held up her hands. "I'm not your go-between, Jessan. If you want the man, you're going to have to find your own happy ending. Now, did you want help with that job application, or tips on improving your numbers?"

  "Neither." Jessan waved her off. "Go, shoo. You don't need to get in trouble with Darnell, too, hanging around me during your break. Or didn't you want to make super by the end of the year?"

  "I see it less as trouble and more opportunity," Marina said, but she was backing out.

  "Opportunity to heckle me, maybe."

  Jessan did pull up the Atelier Geek website, though, and gazed at it with longing during the miniscule pauses between calls and other tasks. Working customer service for a company he loved had two prospects, and he didn't think there would be middle ground: it would be awesome, and reaffirm his faith in products he loved; or it would be horrible, and ruin everything he'd form
erly enjoyed about a brand that had become tainted in his mind with bad employment practices. There was more in play than his failure of rejection. When he pulled up the job announcement again, he read through it and his modest hopes withered up when he realized they were asking for not only a resume, but essay questions. The deadline was a few weeks out there—there was time to write responses, and get someone, maybe Marina, to go over them, but Jessan had no confidence.

  Even if he got through the application process, he'd have to weather the interview. If it was one thing he knew for sure, he did not interview well.

  The prospect of applying to Atelier Geek stayed with him through the rest of his shift. It looked especially appealing when he spent a ridiculous amount of time on the phone that shift talking someone down from a threatened lawsuit because her order had been bungled in every possible way it could have been, from order intake to returns management and back again. Jessan sympathized with her and he knew it came through in his voice. Straightening out the mess that other people had complicated and made worse took him the better part of two hours.

  "I'm just a cog in the gears," Jessan murmured as he walked out the door that evening.

  Marina shot him a puzzled glance before shaking her head. "You all right, Jessan?"

  "Nothing a few hours of down-time won't cure." Jessan sighed. Unfortunately, all that did was get him turned around in time to do it all over again the next day, and the next, and all that followed.

  "Tell you what, if you're interested in that guy, you can join me at C-Street tonight," Marina said.

  Jessan waved a hand. "I'll think about it."

  "Better not think too long," Marina advised. "Why didn't you get his number to begin with?"

  "Because I wasn't really thinking he wanted it as he pushed me out the front door!"

  The bus ride back to his place was boring at that time of night, and he typically spent his time playing with his phone, either reading or caught up in the latest app game. That night, he logged onto his chat app instead, and was happy to see Cory's status was green. He trusted his mother and relied on her first in all things, but the advice of another actual gay man, as opposed to women who dated straight men, was called for when it came to the club scene. Jessan wanted to see Felipe again for sure, but if he had been in it to hit it and quit it, Jessan wasn't going to press his luck by trying for more.

  Hey good to see u, Jessan typed, and sent the chat Cory's way.

  Hey Jessan! What's up with you?

  Jessan bit his lip, considering whether to air out the scenario or go home and call it a night. It was already late, going out clubbing would make it even later, and he was already short on temper as well as sleep. If he went to C-Street and got blown off, it would turn his day even lousier. On the other hand, if Felipe was there and still into him after all, the night wouldn't have to be a total loss.

  There's this guy… he began.

  Don't all the stories start out that way? Cory replied.

  Jessan related the tale, and his concerns about going to C-Street. He knew Cory would understand what he was really afraid of: putting himself out there, only to find the interest wasn't mutual after all.

  Dude I don't think he kicked you out, Cory told him.

  No? Jessan was dubious.

  Nah, sounds like he had somewhere to be, too. You should go for it.

  Jessan sighed and typed his reply slowly. Part of me was afraid you'd say that.

  Haha, yeah, means you have to leave your secure cubbyhole and go out and do things.

  There is nothing wrong with being an introvert!

  When his bus stop neared, Jessan signed off with Cory and hurried home. It took no time whatsoever to shrug into his clubbing clothes—they were about the same. He donned slightly tighter jeans and a fresh t-shirt, made sure he had enough for the cover charge and a drink or two in the wallet chained to his belt loop, and headed out.

  It was a week night, so there was less of a line. Jessan kept his hands stuck in his pockets, scanning the crowd as he walked in and headed toward the bar. He had every intention of gluing himself to a table and having one, maybe two drinks. He wasn't there for dancing.

  Jessan inched forward towards the bar behind the loose grouping of other customers, trying not to slouch. He had seen Marina out on the floor, dancing side by side with Blanca, her typical wing 'man.' Part of him didn't care if she saw him there; the rest cringed at the prospect of being heckled later.

  "Hey! Jessan, my man!"

  A warm weight hung off Jessan's shoulder as he reached the bar and leaned in close to order. Startled, Jessan's head turned and he locked eyes with Felipe, who was grinning, face lined in sweat. He looked as edible as he had the other night.

  "Whatever he wants, I'm buying, okay?" Felipe told the bartender, who nodded.

  Jessan's mouth dropped open. "Uh…"

  "Was hoping I'd see you here again," Felipe said into his ear. "Because I didn't know how to find you otherwise. You need a drink before you'll dance, right?"

  Jessan managed to blink and nod.

  "So I'll buy you that drink, because I want to dance." Felipe twined his arms around Jessan.

  That brought their bodies in such close proximity, Jessan's responded, making it loud and clear no matter how conflicted he was, his cock was more than happy to see Felipe. "Yeah, okay." Jessan barely got the words out. He was tempted to say they ought to go straight back to Felipe's place, but remembering how charged up they had gotten the other night, with the promise of a drink to bring him around to the willingness to brave the dance floor, made Jessan decide to tough it out.

  He drained his drink quickly once he got it, and let Felipe lead him out onto the floor. Alcohol didn't possess any alchemical qualities to transform him into a dancer, but the way Felipe moved against him made it worthwhile.

  The music was pop rock with a dance beat, and made it easy for Jessan to keep his hands on Felipe's hips and follow his movements. Felipe's inviting smile tethered Jessan to the moment, and he let himself sway with abandon. They danced, went for another drink, shared snatches of fragmented conversation that the music kept blasting apart, and returned to the floor for another round of building sexual tension. Like before, Jessan was ready to fall into Felipe's arms the moment they left the club. He wanted to ask for the prospect of follow-up, a date, a number, but when they reached the car, again Felipe's mouth was on him, delivering nips and hungry kisses, and Jessan was swept along in his own desire.

  When they disengaged for Felipe to shift the car into drive, the question was on Jessan's mind again. Can I have your number? Five simple words loaded with intent. For whatever reason, he couldn't nerve himself to ask. Felipe had seemed glad to see him, but that could have been eagerness to hook up, to repeat the momentum of the night before and revisit fleeting pleasure. That had always been Jessan's problem before, over-thinking things. Being good enough for a night, even more than one, didn't mean his partner wanted more.

  "Hey, what are you thinking?"

  Jessan's eyes flicked up, startled, and he saw Felipe's reflection in the glass of the window, eyes on him. He shifted in his seat to look right at him, and managed a smile. "Oh, nothing," he lied. "It was a horrible day, but it got better when I saw you." That was the full truth.

  "Yeah?" Felipe offered him that easy smile that turned the heat up on Jessan's insides again. "You know what? Me, too."

  That was flattering enough for Jessan to hold onto it for the rest of the car ride, and Felipe's hand on his knee didn't hurt matters.

  "What do you do?" Jessan asked to distract himself from more risky territory like phone numbers or dates.

  "Eh, I'm a salesman," Felipe said. "It's crazy right now, we're getting next year's stock in, and running all kinds of deals to push last year's stock off the lot."

  "Oh, cars?" Jessan was moderately interested. There were a lot of new models he would love to drive, but he didn't have the money to afford insurance, let alone monthly payments.

/>   "Yeah, I got into it to pay the bills, but I turned out to be a natural. Makes sense, I guess—I've always loved talking to people." Felipe flashed that devastating smile at Jessan again. "What about you?"

  "Comic geek by day, call center by swing shift," Jessan said. "I love the comics gig, but it wasn't enough to cover the bills by itself."

  "That must be a hell of a schedule." Even in the dark, it was easy to see Felipe's eyes widen. "I can relate."

  The landscape of Felipe's apartment was as foreign and indiscernible as it had been the night before, and they kissed their way through the rooms without Felipe ever groping for a light switch. When they reached the threshold of Felipe's sparsely-furnished room, they stood for a moment disentangling one another from their shirts, sharing heavy kisses in between.

  "God, I've been wanting to do this all day." Felipe's breath gusted against his face before he closed in for another kiss.

  Jessan smiled against his lips and closed his eyes, slipping his arms around Felipe. The thought belatedly occurred that Felipe might have only meant sex, rather than sex specifically with him, but it was too good to put the brakes on and whether it might lead to more or not, Jessan wanted exactly what he was getting.

  The sex was even better than Jessan remembered. That night Felipe put him on his side, rocking into him with the wonderfully demanding roll of his hips as he kept Jessan's mouth engaged. They came, one after the other, and shifted into a tangled, sweaty heap. It wasn't often that Jessan went from sex to lying in someone's arms and fell right into a sated doze but he did that night, with Felipe stroking aside the wiry hairs at the base of his braids to press soft kisses against his nape. It felt like more than sex. It seemed comfortable.

  He woke with the sun in his eyes and Felipe speaking loud and urgently over his shoulder as he tugged his pants on. "Jessan. Jessan. Please get up, I've got to get out of here like ten minutes ago."

  Barely coherent, Jessan grabbed his pillow tighter and mumbled, "What, without even a goodnight kiss?"

  Felipe buttoned his pants, swooped in and kissed him on the eyebrow, and straightened as he turned to rummage in a box. "Baby, I am sorry like hell to rush you, but we gotta go. The guy I live with, he doesn't like me to leave people here if he doesn't know them. Otherwise I'd let you sleep in like I apparently tried to do."