Monster [m/m]

Chapter Three

Aiden wanders down the sidewalk, idly looking at window displays and sucking on a cherry popsicle. Yet another day off, and he's bored. The street's busy enough, mostly families, but the height of tourist season is coming to an end, so most of 'em will be gone by the end of next week.

Like all the other tour guides, he's been getting less shifts, which means he has way too much free time. He could really go for a blowjob right now, but at this time of day, his prospects are slim.

Fuckin' Eric.

Squinting against the bright sunshine, Aiden snaps a piece of popsicle off the stick and rolls it around on his tongue. Maybe this year he'll get a second job. At worst, he'll have something to do; at best, he'll find someone to do.

God, he is so fucking bored.

He starts to cross the street, but a store sign catches his eye, advertising furniture. It's not a store he's been in before, so he chews up the rest of his popsicle and goes inside. It's air-conditioned and smells like cinnamon, so they've definitely got atmosphere down. No music, but he can hear voices chatting in the back.

Pretty good selection for a new place. Aiden examines a table (small, oak, sturdy), before wandering over to an elaborately carved chair. Without thinking, his fingers trace the leaves growing out of the dark wood, every line impeccable.

Someday.

"Can I help you?"

Aiden's already shaking his head and stepping back. "Nah. Just thought I'd check out the competition." He's grinning as he says it, making the words harmless. A glance shows a tall black woman with close-cut dark hair and a pair of glasses on a long nose. Looks like a schoolteacher.

"Competition?" she repeats, thin eyebrows rising. "You do carpentry?"

"Yeah, in my spare time." Aiden raps his knuckles on the chair. "Nothing like this, though; birdhouses and tables and stuff. Working on a rolling top desk right now." There's a swell of pride, because that desk is his baby.

"Oh, yeah?" She rests her hip against the oak table, studying Aiden from head to toe. "You any good?"

He shrugs, pretending at humility. "Couple stores around here sell my stuff."

She hums, interest sparking in her dark eyes. "Is that so." After a moment, she holds out her hand. "I'm Marie. I own this place."

Aiden shakes it, offering a small smile. "I'm Aiden. So, looking for more merchandise?" He sticks his hands in his pockets, head tilting slightly. Although the selection's good, there isn't as much as other places around here.

Marie crosses her arms and eyes him. "Maybe." Yeah, he's got her. She digs out a wrinkled business card from her pocket and hands it to him, along with the pen behind her ear. "Write down your contact info. Just in case."

Smile widening, Aiden does just that, before handing them back. She pockets the card and tucks the pen behind her ear again.

"I'll be in contact," she says, and then heads to the back of the store.

Aiden continues to wander around, sizing up clocks and chests and cutting boards. But nothing's as nice as that chair. He glances at his cellphone to check the time, then turns to go, but there's someone in his way. A quick sweep of the stranger's body shows he's not Aiden's type: too much muscle, too tall, too...smug. He's checking Aiden out with an obvious smirk, his grey eyes sharp. Like he can see everything.

Looking away, Aiden sidesteps the man and heads for the door, grimacing when he hears footsteps following him. Of fucking course.

"I'm not interested, so why don't you fuck off?" Aiden snaps, turning around with a glare once he's outside. The man merely smiles.