Box Shaped Heart

Chapter Fourteen - 9 to 5

Was living like a star always like this? Carter had to admit that while the wild ride to work in that car had been awesome, the stares he got while waiting for the lights to change, along with all the giggles and even a few not so veiled invitations from both men and women, had made him feel rather ... icky.

Maybe driving a fancy car was really not for him. Alex's lifestyle was so overdone. It made one wonder what could be hiding underneath.

He was about to go into his office when Yolanda called for him from the other end of the hallway. Something in the way the tiny woman marched towards him with a determination made him think he had done something wrong. Which made his surprise even greater when Yolanda launched herself at him, almost plastering him against the door to his office.

Ah, she was hugging him. She was squeezing him like he was her lifeline. Was she ill? Had something bad happened? He patted her on the back.

"Yolanda, are you okay?" he asked, now really concerned, seeing that the woman had no plans of letting go.

"You make me so proud," Yolanda spoke while letting him breathe but only a fraction of an inch.

Were those tears in Yolanda's eyes as she looked up to him? Why were all people so sentimental these days?

She suddenly let go and punched him in the chest with her small fist.

"How on Earth I didn't know you're a hugger?" she inquired, now switched on to vengeance mode.

"A hugger? Who ..."

Oh, damn, the TV show. Great, now everyone was going to start hugging him out of the blue. He needed to find a way to remain locked in his office until people forgot all about that.

"Alex!" someone called, a guy in a pinstripe suit that he was certain he had never seen in his life.

Of course, the guy wanted to hug him. And soon enough, a girl with purple hair working for who knew what department wanted her fair share of hugs.

A beeline was forming in front of his office, and he was passed around from one embrace to another like he was a coveted Disney doll, everyone in the room wanted to touch.

"I should charge you, guys," he joked.

Yolanda clapped her hands loudly, to draw everyone's attention. Arranging her perfect bob by hovering with her fingers over it, she cleared her throat.

"Enough, people. We still have work to do today, even if we just discovered that our beloved Alex loves hugging."

She was breathing a bit too hard and her eyes were shining, but at least she was the only one sane enough to put a stop to that.

"Thanks, boss," Carter whispered, leaning in, as soon as everyone was gone, murmuring in contentment among themselves.

"Sure thing, everything for my favorite employee," Yolanda pinched his cheek and smiled.

"Wait, when haven't I been your favorite employee?" Carter joked.

Yolanda feigned taking offense in that.

"You do have your days, Alex," she shook her head and laughed. "But that's what makes you a star."

"Glad to know," he chuckled and finally walked into his office.

"Hi, boss," Mark beamed at him.

"Do you want a hug, too?" Carter sighed and opened his arms.

"No," Mark shook his head. "I was there with you, boss, remember?"

It was a bit unnerving to just remain there, left hanging.

"I know you didn't mean it," Mark added and made himself busy with the coffee machine.

How could Mark know he hadn't meant it? He felt a bit cheated out of a small victory. Maybe he didn't deserve it, after all.

"Here you go, boss," Mark handed him a cup.

He was still frowning when he reached for the sugar bowl. His assistant stopped him.

"I've already added two cubes," Mark said.

He exhaled and looked at the young man.

"You really did your homework, didn't you?" he smiled.

It was sort of nice to have someone tend to your needs and even know how you liked your coffee. Well, it was certainly just a coincidence, as Mark had no idea he wasn't Alex, and, apparently, he had one other thing in common with Alex, that being how they both liked their coffee. How they both liked Aron.

Fuck his brain. Actually, he now had the distinct impression that he was liking Aron even more than the guy's gay husband, and that was so damn fucked up, seeing how he was a straight dude just accidentally trapped in a perfect bottom's body. Ah, damn, that reminded him. If those tests came back clean, he needed to have a talk with Aron and tell him the accident had flipped him and he only wanted to top now.

Fuck, he thought again, fiddling with his coffee cup. Just the flash of an image showing Aron nicely presenting his muscled back and ass was making him want to make a run for the bathroom and take care of business there. He was pretty damn annoyed with the thing between his legs springing to attention at the slightest mention of Aron. Well, his brain was to blame, of course. It was the main body part not listening to him. And those freakish skinny jeans he was supposed to wear were probably showing his erection in all its glory right now.

Yeah, the accident had flipped him all right. Not from bottom to top, but from straight to gay. Gay for Aron. He was damn Flipper. Why couldn't he be Nemo and just search for his father? Or was it the other way around? Ah, yes, the name of the movie was Finding Nemo, so it had to be that. Which reminded him. Where the hell were his parents?

At least, now he was cool and normal. He was going to ask Aron tonight if he had any luck finding his parents. He had a vague idea about their whereabouts, but he could not go to Aron and tell him that. It would have looked damn suspicious.

"Boss, are you going to lunch with Simon again today?"

His assistant's voice brought him back to the real world. Or what his real world was right now.

"Should I?" he grimaced.

Mark smiled, like he was suddenly very proud of his boss, unlike earlier.

"I can come up with something, so that he doesn't bother you," Mark replied.

"Excellent!" Carter said with unhidden glee. "And, Mark, if you get me off the barre class, too, tomorrow I'll be the one to make the coffee. Hell, I'll make coffee all week, or until ..."

I get back to being myself, he wanted to add but caught himself in time.

"No worries, boss," Mark giggled. "I love making coffee."

"That's like the weirdest hobby in the history of mankind," Carter laughed, too.

"So I'll cancel the barre. What should I say to your instructor?"

"Tell him that I just want to try something else for a while. And, I don't know, don't cancel the membership or whatever that is. Let the man have his money until I'm in the mood for barre again."

Wasn't he an expert in juggling everything like a pro circus worker, or whatever the professional name for jugglers was? No one was going to get upset like this.

"There will always be someone to get upset," Mark contradicted him.

What? Had he said that out loud? It seemed unlikely.

"Why do you say that?" he eyed his assistant, wondering if the guy was reading minds.

It was preposterous to think that, but being in another guy's body was impossible, too, yet, hell, there he was, prancing around pretending to be Aron's husband, a male model driving a Porsche Spyder.

"Are you reading minds?" he asked while continuing to look crossly at Mark.

"No," Mark asked after a short moment of hesitation that didn't go unnoticed to Carter.

What the hell? Who was this guy? Mark was staring at him now, and something in the way the guy linked his hands together like he was expecting to be thrown out the door made him change his mind. His young secretary must have said that by simple coincidence. And now he was expecting a scolding.

"Don't worry," Carter patted the young man's shoulder as he went inside his office. "No one is getting you fired. I promise," he added over his shoulder.

He could swear he heard a sigh of relief from Mark as he walked in. Alex Ruskin truly was a scumbag if he could make people believe they could get fired only by giving the undesired answer. Still, he could have asked Mark what he wanted to mean by that. Ah, well, the moment was lost now.

***

The day was uneventful and Yolanda had gone the extra mile to make him feel in no shortage of hugs, but that was something he could live with. The worst part was that he had to make an effort not to get too used to it. After all, there was no saying when he was going to be pulled back to his actual self, and then he wouldn't have that many people lining up to hug him.

Maybe it was his fault. People thought he was easy company, pleasant, but he didn't really get attached. One girlfriend had once told him he was like a nice pair of shoes. Everything seemed right as long as the shoes were on the shelf; pretty, comfortable, excellent price tag. But once one bought them and brought them home, the buyer had the unpleasant surprise that they didn't fit. So she just had to take them back and ask for a refund.

The story of his life. He wondered briefly if his parents hadn't thought the same thing after they had brought him home from the hospital. Well, not right away, when he had still been a screaming baby, although he could picture his father in his mind pursuing his lips and shaking his head at a small scrunched up bundle of flesh, yelling from the top of his little lungs.

But maybe later, as he grew up to be more and more a disappointment for them. His parents were explorers, always in search of a new adventure. Carter hadn't inherited their thirst for visiting places that were as unknown to the humankind as they were dangerous. If anything, he preferred to have his own cozy place so that no one could disturb him. Was it possible that he was not his parents' son? Maybe adopted? But no, that wasn't it, because he had asked when he was 11. The answer from his mother had been prompt, elaborated, and sustained by facts. He wasn't adopted. But somehow, his father's explorer genes had neutralized somehow with his mother's adventurous nature, and they had produced a son who couldn't care less about what was happening beyond his house fence.

Well, that was a way of thinking. He had inherited his parents' scientific mindset, at least. And he had avoided, at all costs, to be a crybaby. That had led overtime to all sorts of weird situations, in which a few kids had considered him courageous or a badass when he had been anything but. Others had just thought him plain weird. Girls had found him pretty cool, too, but that also happened after high school. The mark of 'weirdo' had kind of attached to him during those teenage years. Still, the situation had changed later, when he was in college.

The girls just thought he was a huge marshmallow under that so-called cool act. But it wasn't an act, and he was no marshmallow, either. Guys had found him easygoing and manageable, always ready for a game or a drink. The thing was he never cared to say no, and that was his only secret. And it had come to him what to do to avoid trouble, by simply taking after Aron in the strange art that was being human.

When Aron had left the city, to follow his career, Carter has thought, for the first time in his life, that maybe he could leave, too, and follow his best friend. As a freelancer, he could work from anywhere, but he hadn't had it in him to leave. And, apparently, Aron had tried to run away from him or something.

He sighed and pushed his fists into his eyes. But Aron had returned, and Carter had been so damn happy, like a fool. Aron had done that only because he had found a husband that, coincidence or not, was from the same city, so he had had no qualms about coming back. And, at the same time, Aron was cured of his crush on Carter, so he had no issues with living in the same place again.

Maybe today was the day when the swap back was going to happen, he tried to cheer himself up. He had gotten a message from Aron and the guy was already at the hospital. He only needed to head there, too.

What was going to happen when everything was going to be said and done? Was Alex going to remember anything? Anything at all? How were they going to keep on living? Well, by the way his body looked, maybe he shouldn't have worry about that. He was probably the only one who was not going to keep on living.

There was no point in being sentimental about it all. If that was going to happen, he could do nothing to stop it. So the sensation of emptiness trying to rear its head somewhere in his solar plexus just had to go back where it came from.

He grabbed his phone and headed for the door. Getting cozy in Alex's body and Aron's married life was not an option. He needed to keep his head straight. Yeah, straight. Regardless of his pretty gay behavior as of late. It was just a phase. Once back to his own body, he was just going to like women again.

Are you sure you're going to forget all about Aron? How he kisses? How he looks naked? Don't you think the curve of his ass is abso-fucking-lutely delicious?

Shut up, brain. You're fucked up.

Or maybe you are.

Look who's talking.

Funny thing, in all his conversations to himself from before, he had never lost an argument. The truth was he had no argument right now. Just a sudden need to see Aron and tell him ... Okay, enough with that.

He went out the door, after waving goodbye to Mark.

Engulfed in his thoughts, he failed to notice someone coming from the opposite direction and almost crashed into them. He was about to apologize but stopped when he saw who it was.

Simon pushed him firmly through a door, and he just walked backward, too surprised to react right away. He looked around.

"Why the fuck are we in the bathroom?" he asked the other guy.

"You asked your obnoxious assistant to keep me away from you," Simon reproached, crossing his arms over his chest and looking him up and down.

"Jeesh, don't you know when to give up?" Carter groaned. "And really, there's nothing romantic or funny about this setting. What do you want? To bend me over the sink and fuck me up the chute?"

Simon gaped like a fish, and his dark complexion colored slightly.

"Is that what you want?" the man breathed out.

"Of course not! Are you deaf or stupid?"

Simon seemed hurt by his words. Was this guy made of glass or something? Carter almost pitied him.

"I need to go see my husband," he said with determination and walked towards the door.

"Wait," Simon put one hand on his chest and grabbed him by the waist with the other. "Why don't you give me a chance? I know what you like, Alex," Simon brushed his lips against his ear.

That was ticklish, so he grimaced and shuddered.

"Would you cut it out?" he tried to shake the man off.

But this time Simon was having none of it, apparently. He pulled Carter closer and forced his mouth on his.

Why the fuck were dudes all over him? Ah, yeah, he was draped all over in the perfect body of a fashion star, and he was also gay as fuck. That didn't stop him from pushing Simon away.

"Look here, Simon," he wagged the finger at the guy who was staring at him with the same look of a kicked puppy all over his face. "Do that again, and I'll kick your ass. I mean it."

"Alex," Simon begged. "Why are you so cruel?"

"Are you really that fucked up in the head? I don't feel anything for you. You should just mind your fucking business!"

He needed to set this right.

"You're not letting me prove anything to you. You don't let me kiss you, you don't let me hug you, you don't let me take you to nice places ... How can I prove myself to you?"

Carter could swear his head was going to explode.

"I'm not going on any romantic date with you. I don't feel a damn thing when you try to put your tongue in my mouth. So understand, once and for all. I have a husband whom I love and bang, okay?"

"Kiss me. If you still don't feel a thing, then I'll back down," Simon promised.

Hmm, that pretty much sounded like a trap, but, hell, if it could take this stupid kid off his back, it was worth a try.

"Come here, asshole," he gestured for Simon to get closer.

No wonder there, the idiot obeyed like a well-trained dog. Carter grabbed the guy's head and kissed him hard on the lips. Simon gasped and Carter pushed his tongue inside. He was rough and uncaring on purpose. And, as he had expected, he felt nothing. But, in his arms, Simon was turning into putty, moaning and trying to kiss back.

He tried to get away from the guy's hands, but Simon just slid on the floor and buried his head into Carter's crotch, rubbing his face against it.

"Alex, I missed you so badly, I want to suck your cock, please, please, let me ..."

There was no way he was going to put his dick into that guy's mouth. Well, at least he knew he wasn't gay because the sight of that gorgeous man at his feet was doing nothing for him.

But that position was more than compromising. He had a mind to just kick the guy away, but he didn't want to do that. He had been wrong about thinking of Simon as a chinchilla. He was just a big puppy, and what kind of man kicked a puppy?

While he was busy trying to solve yet another moral dilemma in his head, Simon set himself to work, managing somehow to pull down the zipper on Carter's jeans and reach inside. Carter reacted too late. The guy's mouth was all over his cock.

"What the fuck, dude? Cut it out!" he tried to push Simon's head away.

"No, please, let me," Simon asked, looking bereft with his mouth a bit slack, as Carter extracted himself and pulled his zipper back up.

"You should really chill, dude," Carter pointed the finger at him. "And do you see? Completely limp."

"I don't believe you," Simon said, refusing to get up from his kneeling position.

"Fine! You know what? Here's your limp dick," Carter was the one to pull his cock out of his pants and dangle it in front of Simon's eyes who was looking at him with a mix of horror and desire if such a thing was even possible. "So, what are you waiting for? Come suck on limpy here. Maybe then you'll leave me the fuck off!"

Simon dragged himself on his knees to Carter and put his warm mouth on the soft cock. Carter decided to just look at a point on the wall, and try to solve some shit in his mind, while the idiot was going to try to make him get it up.

Simon pushed the entire soft cock into his mouth. It was just wet and warm, nothing special. But the guy didn't seem fazed by the lack of reaction in Carter's nether parts and now he was using his tongue to reach Carter's balls and even somewhere under them. Fuck, that was kind of a weak spot for him, Carter realized with dread.

Fuck no! Think of sad things, you stupid brain! Like dead puppies! An ocean of them! What could be sadder than that? Come on, you're not going to get hard to that, right?

Phew, it was working. He was in control. But he needed a tissue right now. He was about to push Simon way again when the door to the bathroom opened.

Carter could swear that was the type of moment in movies when the camera panned and everything started moving in slow motion. His hands were too weak to push Simon away properly, and his eyes met Mark's without fail.

His assistant stopped in his tracks, his eyes moving from Carter to the man knelt on the floor, his entire face falling gradually with each increment his eyes moved down. Carter thought for a second that the guy's face was going to disintegrate at the end of that journey downward.

"Mark," he said.

But his assistant schooled his face into a neutral demeanor - not a smiley one - and spoke quickly.

"I am so sorry, Sir."

With that, he turned on his heels and walked out of the bathroom.

"Wait!" Carter yelled after him, now managing to get rid of Simon, by really kicking the guy. "Weren't you supposed to pee or something?"

But the door was already closed, and that stupid question was going to remain without an answer. Fuck! How was he going to explain that? Talking about mistakes that couldn't be fixed. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!