Day 017
It was something like the middle of the afternoon.
Carter and Dean had yet to unpack to a clock in the new apartment they shared. It was a dingy little place that sat on the fifth floor of a tall building that had once been something nice and deteriorated into something bad. It was cheap enough, easy to come by, and they had a killer view of Helios II from where their window opened up to.
It wasn’t that bad. Except they never had an idea what time it was.
“Maybe it’s in that box,” Carter motioned as he stepped into the living room. Dean was stretched out on the futon, a television buzzing in front of him. He was long and almost pale in the sunlight, his natural golden toned state settled down from too many days holed up in the apartment and too many nights spent under the shade of florescents that dotted the city. He shook his head, turning back to Carter.
“I dunno, it seems like scraps of random stuff you just haven’t found a place yet for.”
“Wouldn’t a clock qualify as something like that?”
The pair of them both had watches, but it did nothing for them when the watches were burried under piles of clothing that Carter had to take to work with him to wash. It was worthless when Carter rolled out of bed, squinting his eyes at the bedside table only to find three spraypaint cans and a boot knife. Carter crawled over the back of the futon and slipped down onto Dean’s legs, all askew and unsettled as he leaned forward, pulling the box towards him.
“Hrm, you could be right.” Dean didn’t stop looking at the television. It was hazy, as most television in Stereoport was. Most of them showing only local channels or local channels that acquired content from other places. When they were lucky, there were subtitles. Dean was watching some Japanese children’s programming. No subtitles. No idea what was going on at all.
He turned and ran his hand through Carter’s hair, trying to position himself enough to peer inside the box as well. Carter had started taking things out. There was a hair dryer that neither one of them needed, a few potholders and a plastic manual orange juicer.
“Or,’ Dean said, “you could be entirely wrong.” He paused for a moment, watching Carter pull something out of the box. It was poster sized and it flipped open as he sat there and Carter’s eyes went wide. And Carter, who never blushed even though he seemed to have the perfect temperament and skin tone for it, turned red at the tips of his ears and the tip of his nose.
“Or, you could find that…” Dean said, staring.
Between them, unfolding under Carter’s fingertips, was a black and white calendar with pictures of nude men on it. Rugby players in various states of undress. Carter slammed the pages closed and tossed it back into the box.
“That’s not a clock,” He said, shaking his head.
“Let me see it.” Dean grinned. He reached forward, grabbing onto the edge of the calendar before Carter clamped his hands around his wrist.
“No!” He tried pulling Dean’s hands back, but Dean was too strong. He pulled at the pages and it opened up to men lined up on the field, some of them covering themselves with their hands or pieces of equipment, but a few just standing there with nothing to hide.
With a sick little grin, Dean turned to Carter.
“I thought you played soccer?”
Carter bit on his lip.
“This looks like rugby…” Dean continued.
Carter pursed his bit lip.
“Why would you…”
“Rugby guys are way more built, alright?” Carter’s voice exploded out. He reached back for his calendar, but Dean held it up, high and away the way an older brother would do catching his younger brother’s secret stash. He flicked through the pages, opening the spread to of three men standing around a shower together, after a game.
Laughing, Dean stretched one of his arms out. He was skinny thin, tattooed up and scarred from fingertip to shoulder blade. “I should go to the gym, then, shouldn’t I? This pretty much tells me I’m screwed…”
“Deaaan,” Carter let out a groan. He clamored over Dean’s body trying to get to the calendar, but each time Dean held it higher and twisted it out of the way.
“Carter, I am trying to take lessons from these guys, alright? Do we even have a rugby team in Stereoport?”
“No. No, we don’t Dean.”
“You sound disapointed.” Dean’s grin was almost evident through his voice. He brought the calendar down slowly, putting it between them. It was left open to yet another scene of men laying out on the field, the black and white light of the day reflecting off their bodies. Next to him, Carter had a frown, a slight expression of mild irritation and even more embarrassment.
Dean leaned in and kissed the side of Carter’s mouth.
“I think we should hang this in the kitchen.” He said.
“You’e not funny.”
“I’m not trying to be. It’s kind of a nice calendar, when you really look at it. It’s not a clock, but, at least we’ll know the date?” Dean offered another kiss, slightly closer to the middle of Carter’s mouth. He remained close, whispering to his skin. “And you like it, don’t you? It’d be good to look at when you’re making coffee in the morning or something.”
“Dean…” Carter raised one eyebrow, but Dean cut him off with a full lip kiss. It was firm with a bite at the very end that pulled Carter’s lower lip.
“And if you like it, well, I like it. It’s kind of crass and sexy, actually.”
Carter pursed his lips again, twisting his mouth from side to side. “You’re not supposed to like things just because I like it.”
“I think it’d make a great conversation piece. Besides, look…” Dean turned to the current month and he pointed to the single player that stood in the middle of a blackwashed background. The man was sweat stained on his soild body, each ridge highlighted with the flash. Dean rose one brow at Carter. “Who wouldn’t be able to appreciate that?”
It was an honest question.
Carter threw his head back and let out a tiny laugh.
“There are thumbtacks in the drawer over there,” He offered at last, pointing towards the kitchen. “Just promise me one thing.”
Untangling himself, Dean stood. He held the calendar between his hands. “Anything.”
“Stay away from the gym.”
Turning on Carter, Dean laughed. He went to hang the calendar and he just laughed.