Tech Support

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by Jet Mykles




  TECH SUPPORT

  Jet Mykles

  ®

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * * *

  This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable (homoerotic sexual situations).

  Tech Support

  Jet Mykles

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © January 2007 by Jet Mykles

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-381-0

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Raven McKnight

  Cover Artist: P. L. Nunn

  www.loose-id.com

  Chapter One

  A hand landed on Aaron’s shoulder from behind. “As the new kid on the block, you get to see what Mr. Fukui’s done to his laptop now.”

  Aaron pulled away from his monitor, turning his chin up to look at Tom over the rim of the glasses that had fallen down to the tip of his nose. “I’m sorry. What?”

  Tom grinned at Vivian, who stood just behind him in the doorway to the tiny little cubicle. “That’s what I like about this kid. He gets into his work.”

  Vivian rolled her eyes, tossing a lock of curly blonde hair out of her round little face. “If you like him, then why are you going to torture him by sending him to Mr. Fukui?”

  Tom crossed beefy arms over his chest, resting them on his distended beer belly. “Because. It’s a rite of passage.”

  Aaron glanced down, mild alarm making his heart pound. What sort of rite of passage? With one finger, he pushed his wire-rim glasses further up on his long, straight nose, then made himself look back up at Tom. “Where is Mr. Fukui?”

  The grin split Tom’s bushy brown beard. “Top floor, corner office. Receptionist will tell you where to go.”

  Aaron’s eyes blinked wide. “He sounds important.”

  Vivian snorted. “He is. He’s the VP of remote operations.”

  Aaron frowned at Tom, heart beating a bit more rapidly. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”

  Tom nodded, waving Aaron’s concerns aside. “Don’t worry, kid. He doesn’t bite ‑‑”

  “Hard,” Vivian added with a smirk.

  “-- he’s just really fucking annoying with his laptop. The man can break a machine just by looking at it.”

  “He’s had four already this year.”

  Aaron’s mouth fell open. “It’s only August!”

  “Exactly.”

  Aaron shook his head. The only reason he personally had ever needed a new laptop was to upgrade. Of course, he tended to upgrade at least one of his main machines about once a year, so they rarely had time to go belly-up on him. But some of his older machines were still around and in working order, even if he didn’t use them much. “Did he say what was wrong?”

  “Nope. Rarely does. Just that it’s broken and he needs someone to fix it ASAP.”

  Aaron hesitated.

  Vivian chuckled and stepped up to his side. She took hold of his arm and urged him to his feet. “It’s okay, Aaron. Take this.” She handed him a laptop case. “If you can’t get it fixed, give this to him, transfer his files if you can, and bring his back down. He won’t care. He never bothers to put personal stuff on his laptops. But usually it’s just something wacky he’s done.”

  “Or stupid,” Tom chimed in, grinning wide. “Like not connecting to the network and complaining he can’t find his files.”

  Aaron carefully stepped back from Vivian’s touch, hoping it wasn’t noticeable. “You’re kidding?”

  “Wish I was, kid. Wish I was. Off you go.”

  Aaron left the fluorescent-lit confines of the IT area with the laptop case slung over his shoulder. He smiled and nodded politely to those sitting at the support staff desks he passed on his way to the elevator, but he generally kept his head tipped down. The habit kept eye contact at a minimum, and the way the bangs of his crimson hair fell forward helped even more. From experience, he knew he was ages away from feeling friendly with any but a few people at his new job. He did amazingly well with computers and online, but had quite a bit of trouble up close and in person.

  He made it to the elevator without a hitch and rode up the three floors to where the company’s executives had their offices. The deep blue carpet and expensive dark wood paneling caught him off guard. It was so very different from the odd gray-pink carpet and dusky gray walls on the second floor. He fingered the plastic badge that hung on a chain around his neck and headed for the glass doors directly ahead of the elevators.

  He pushed open the door. The receptionist behind the long black desk looked up. Her polite smile faltered momentarily, then grew wide and welcoming.

  Aaron blushed, ducking to hide his face as much as he could.

  “May I help you?” she practically purred, leaning closer.

  He pointed to his badge, staring at the top of her monitor. “I’m from IT.” He spoke slowly and tried not to mumble, knowing these were common problems for him. “Mr. Fukui called about his laptop?”

  “Why, yes, he did.” The warmth in her voice made him flush. He bit the inside of his lip and fiddled with one cuff of his white shirt. “Mr. Fukui’s office is just down that hall. The last door on your right.”

  Aaron nodded and headed away from her. He could feel her eyes on him. People were always watching him. He was told it was the amazingly vivid red of his hair and the clear green of his big eyes, together with sharp, angular features and pale skin that never tanned. He didn’t see what fascinated everyone so. He thought he looked way too much like a girl at the best of times and like a dork all the time. He’d often thought of dyeing his hair and getting contacts, to see if people would leave him alone, but he never went through with it. He couldn’t imagine trying to keep up with a disguise just because he was too painfully bashful to deal with the attention. Even now, at twenty-five, he was only slightly better at handling it than he had been when he was a teen.

  Before he reached Mr. Fukui’s open door, he heard the man’s voice. Low and lyrical, speaking what must be Japanese. Aaron knew enough of the language from watching tons of anime to recognize the sounds, although he didn’t understand any but a few of the words. He stopped in the open doorway and looked up through the heavy fall of his bangs.

  His heart stopped. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why, but the man instantly captivated him. Tall and slim, Fukui stood in profile to the large window behind him, the late afternoon sun making his short, dark blond hair a golden halo. He wore expensive black slacks and a blue dress shirt. The shirt was crisp and neat, even though he had the sleeves rolled up to expose slim forearms. The knot of his silk tie had been pulled a third of the way down his
chest, and the top three buttons of the shirt were undone. He was the image of casual corporate GQ.

  Fukui must have seen Aaron out of the corner of his eye, because he turned. For a moment, he simply stared, full lips slightly parted. Then he said something into his cell phone, waved Aaron in, and pointed at the laptop sitting on the massive mahogany desk.

  Aaron mentally shook himself and stepped into the office, stopping when he stood on the near side of the desk. Fukui continued to talk. Aaron flipped open the laptop and instantly saw what was wrong. Three of the keys were missing.

  Mr. Fukui made noises of closing his conversation and then flipped his phone closed. He stepped up to the desk and set the phone down beside the laptop. Aaron, staring at the laptop, only saw those elegant hands and bare forearms. The long line of pure, lean muscle curved underneath tanned skin and a dusting of dark gold hair. A Rolex gleamed in the waning sunlight.

  “Well,” said that voice, smooth and rich as dark honey and without a trace of a Japanese accent, “can you fix it?”

  Aaron glanced up and nearly gasped to see the man’s black eyes staring down at him. No, they were brown, a brown so dark that they were easily mistaken for black. They were rimmed with dark brown lashes, the same shade of the slim brows that tapered from the bridge of his long nose up toward his temples.

  The vaguely slanted eyes lidded a touch, one brow arching further toward his hairline. “Well?”

  “Uh,” Aaron stammered, dropping his gaze back to the broken machinery. “Do you have the keys?”

  “No. They popped off in the airport. I didn’t have time to look for them.”

  “They ‘popped off’?”

  “Yes.”

  Aaron didn’t flinch, but it was a near thing. Okay, the man didn’t like to be questioned. “I can’t fix it right here, sir. I’m not sure we can fix it at all.”

  Fukui heaved a sigh. There was a whoosh of leather, and Aaron glanced up to see that the man had collapsed in an artful fall into his high-backed leather chair. “Damn it.” Fukui sighed again. “Well, fine, whatever. Can you transfer my files onto another laptop, then?” He gestured at the bag still on Aaron’s shoulder.

  Aaron fingered the stubs in the keyboard that used to hold keys. It was patently obvious that the man had abused the laptop and probably popped the keys in a fit of pique, given that one of the stubs was bent slightly toward the top. The keys, however, should still be functional. “I’m sure we can do that, sir.”

  “Can you do it now? Here? I’ve got to get out of here in an hour, and I need those bloody files before I leave.”

  What nationality was he? His name indicated Japanese, and he spoke the language with apparent ease, yet his English was flawless, with a trace of a British accent. His eyes had a slant that hinted at some Asian background, but his hair was blond. Who was this guy?

  “Well?”

  “Uh,” Aaron stuttered again, reeling in his errant thoughts and tearing his gaze away from that captivating face. “Yes, I can probably do that.” He pointed at the docking station that sat to one side of the desktop. “May I?”

  Fukui stood with the grace of a hawk lifting in flight. He waved a long-fingered hand toward his chair. “Be my guest. Mind if I use the phone?”

  “Oh, no. Please don’t let me disturb you.”

  Fukui muttered something that sounded like “You already have.” He crossed the room to the leather couch.

  Aaron ducked his head further and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. He set the spare laptop bag on the floor by his feet, then snapped the broken laptop into the docking station and turned it on.

  Fukui made another call, again speaking Japanese. He made three calls while Aaron worked on the laptop, and only one was in English. That one was to a car dealer. It seemed Fukui had a special car. Aaron wondered what it was.

  Aaron found himself wondering a lot about the man. He watched him surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye and through his bangs as he worked. Transferring the files wasn’t enough to keep Aaron’s attention, even if his typing was hampered by the lack of the F, G, and B keys. The man’s golden hair was cut short on the sides and back, but was a soft nest of longer curls atop his head. The bangs were cut just below the arch of his brow, just a tad too long for corporate, perhaps in need of a trim. Fukui’s legs seemed to extend for miles in those expensive slacks.

  Aaron finished copying Fukui’s files from the broken laptop to the network, then powered down the machine. He bent down to swap laptops with the loaner. When he straightened, he jumped to find Fukui seated on the edge of the desk, looking at him.

  “You’re new, aren’t you?”

  Aaron swallowed, dropping his attention to what he was doing. “Yes, sir.”

  “I didn’t think I’d seen you around. What’s your name?”

  “Aaron.”

  One of those elegant hands extended toward him. Gold rings shone on the pinky and middle fingers. “Hi, Aaron. I’m Ki.”

  “‘Key’?” Aaron asked before he could stop himself. His hand took Ki’s automatically.

  That produced a smile that made Aaron’s heart stutter. “Ki. K-I. Short for Yoshiki.”

  Yoshiki. The name echoed in Aaron’s head. What a beautiful name. Japanese, obviously, but Fukui didn’t look it. Aaron succeeded in not blurting a silly question this time, but his confusion must have shown on his face. Ki laughed. “You’re wondering if I’m Japanese, right?”

  Aaron realized he was staring and ducked his head, blushing. Carefully, he pulled his hand from the man’s warm grasp.

  “It’s all right. Everyone wonders. I’m only a quarter Japanese, but that quarter came from my grandmother, who mainly raised me, and she was determined that if I didn’t look it, I’d at least act it.” He laced his fingers over his knee, grinning wickedly. “She partially succeeded. I can act it, but I can let go of the act at any time.”

  Aaron smiled. The man’s grin was infectious. He looked at the laptop screen. “Could you enter your username and password for me, sir?”

  “Only if you call me Ki and not sir.”

  “I ... uh ...” Aaron glanced at the door.

  Ki sighed. “At least when no one else is around? I hate being called sir.”

  He slid off the desk and rounded it to Aaron’s side. He leaned over, well into Aaron’s personal space, so he could type in his information. Aaron pulled in a surprised breath and froze. What was that wonderful smell? Was it aftershave? Soap? It smelled like some of the incense that his mother would burn sometimes. The back of Ki’s hand brushed Aaron’s chest when he sat back. Unconsciously, Aaron covered the spot with his own palm. Realizing it, he dropped his hand quickly to the keyboard and turned to face the laptop.

  Ki rose from the desk as Aaron worked. Minutes later, music drifted from the corners of the room. Aaron glanced up to see Ki standing before a hi-fi system that was normally hidden behind one of the wooden panels in the wall. Ki flipped through jazz, blues, and rock stations. Aaron did his best not to stare at the broad shoulders that tapered to a slim waist and long, long legs. And he was not checking out the man’s ass!

  Ki settled on jazz, then came back to the desk. “You mind the music?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Aaron.” The tone held a warning.

  Aaron smiled, eyes focused on the screen. “Ki.”

  “Thank you. It’s not like I’m your boss or anything.”

  Aaron left that one alone. He might not be Aaron’s boss, but if he had a corner office on this particular floor, he could definitely influence Aaron’s boss.

  “Damn. You’re good.”

  Aaron jumped. Ki stood just beside him, his hip almost brushing Aaron’s arm. Aaron hadn’t even heard him coming.

  Ki briefly gripped his shoulder, his palm hot through the crisp cotton/polyester blend of Aaron’s dress shirt. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. But you’re fast on that thing.” He nodded toward the laptop.

  “Uh. Thanks.”


  “No problem.” Ki’s grin made Aaron’s belly flip. “You a programmer?”

  “Yes. No. Not here.”

  “Ah, freelance on the side?”

  “No.”

  “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

  Aaron shook his head. “I do some coding for websites. PHP, mostly. Forums and galleries. But that’s outside of this job.”

  “You’re one of those people who’s on the computer all the time, aren’t you?” Aaron heard the smile.

  “Yes.”

  Ki sighed. “I could never do that. The things hate me.”

  Aaron opened his mouth, then closed it.

  “What?”

  “Huh?”

  “What were you going to say?”

  Aaron needlessly pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. “Nothing.”

  “Right. Out with it.”

  Aaron hesitated, watching the graphics cycle as files were copied from network folder to local folder. “How did the keys pop off the keyboard?”

  Ki was quiet for a long time. Too curious, Aaron peeked over his shoulder. Ki’s face was averted, eyes downcast. He actually looked embarrassed.

  He glanced at Aaron, then away. “I got pissed off because the file wouldn’t open. I guess I hit the keys a bit too hard. The plastic shattered.”

  “Shattered?” Aaron was impressed.

  “Well, cracked. Just one of the keys. I, uh, kind of popped the others myself.” He laughed at himself. “Childish, huh?”

  Aaron only chuckled softly. The windows on the laptop screen closed. “Okay. You’re done.”

  Aaron moved to get up, but stalled when Ki leaned forward. With one hand on the desk and the other on the back of the chair, he effectively had Aaron boxed in. “It’s all there?”

  “It should be.”

  “Show me?”

  Aaron’s hand shook a bit as he clicked and opened folders to show Ki the list of files. “They’re also on the network drive, so there’s a backup in case something happens.”

 

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