Roc-a-Bye

*All names have been changed to protect the innocent, namely me.

*

"…W-what?"

"I said," he began, that fuckin' lopsided grin of his slowly and, oh, so seductively, turning into a sneer. "I know you like me."

"I-- heh,

Walking Wet Dream

, come on now," I stammered, the heat from the embarrassment of being found out creeping up my face at an awfully rapid pace. "We're-- we're friends. What are you talking about?"

I laughed. Feebly.

He, on the other hand, just smiled knowingly. Oh, God, those cute dimples! He took one strong step forward, his long muscular legs easily closing the gap between our bodies. I was instantly pinned to the wall.

"Alright, if that's how you wanna play it," he said coyly, and slowly traced his finger down my left cheek. "God, I love your skin. Heh, you know, you're really cute when you blush. And you blush a lot, did you know that?"

Shit. For a moment there, I swear I felt the whole world stop. Why was it always so easy to get lost in those azure pools? And those thick lashes… God! He was so close, too. I could feel the heat emanating from his muscular torso. I could smell… the alcohol from his breath.

Of course. He was drunk.

"I, look

Walking Wet Dream

--"

He cut me off with a hard kiss. It was so sudden. I was so caught off-guard that I jumped back, but the wall prevented me from breaking our contact. I was immobilized, leaving me no choice but to receive his kiss. It was too much for me to handle. I couldn't breathe. He was slowly but deliberately pushing his entire body into mine, his solid weight cutting off my circulation.

I gasped for air, and in the short time that I had my mouth open, he took advantage and plunged his tongue inside. My legs were going limp. Damn, but he was a good kisser.

"No, I-I can't…"

Somehow I had managed to push him off a fraction of an inch, and that was all I needed to tilt my head to the side, away from his.

Seemingly undeterred by my weak protest, he simply tilted my chin back in his direction. His head slowly swooped in for another kiss. My knees went weak instantly. He's so gorgeous.

Should I allow this to happen? Lord knows I've waited long and hard for this very moment to happen to little old me. But for some reason, I just can't shake this feeling in my gut that this will only bite me in the ass later on. He's drunk, after all.

+ + +

I can still remember everything so vividly. It started a couple of months ago, when I landed a marketing job here in

The Company

.

Together with the other new hires, I had to spend one week in orientation and training. That's when we first met.

"This seat taken?"

I looked up from my iPod.

"Sorry?" I asked, taking my earphones out of my ears.

"Is this seat taken." He reiterated simply. I couldn't help but notice that it was no longer a question.

"Oh. No, go ahead."

And that's when I realized I was gay and fell madly in love with him.

No, I'm kidding. That's when I first looked at him. I mean really look at him. Truth was, it was kinda hard not to with his dashingly handsome good looks. Of course, at the time, I wasn't checking him out. It was more like being… awestruck, maybe even enviuos, if you will.

He was young, probably just graduated, if not even. He had a clean shaven face that could grace the cover of any magazine. His stylized hair was neat and professional. His expensive corporate clothes did nothing to hide his well-defined body.

"What?"

Shit. Way to make a great first impression. Now he thinks you're a fag.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry, didn't mean to stare." I said dumbly.

He just looked at me, as if expecting a more elaborate explanation.

I didn't have any. So I left it with that, and resumed listening to my iPod. But it was quite clear that there was a bit of an awkward tension that just happened. And the bad news is, I'm a blusher. I'm not so sure my face could've covered up the embarrassment I felt right then. The heat emanating from my face alone was such that I'm sure it would've melted a small ice cube. What's worse is that I could feel him just staring at me. I hate it when people did that.

I forced all my willpower to not look back, lest he thought I really was checking him out, you know, in THAT way.

But as fate would have it, I looked. I just couldn't help myself. How fuckin' convenient.

Yeah, and he was looking right back.

I quickly looked away, all the while mentally cursing myself for being such an idiot. God, that was embarrassing! For the split second that I was looking his way, I could so totally make out the faintest of sneers at the corners of his mouth. It's as if I amused him or something.

Great. Just great.

Just then, our trainer arrived, and we settled down. There were only a handful of us. And none I could really see myself hanging out with.

As with any orientation, we were made to introduce ourselves first. That's when I found out his name —

Walking Wet Dream

.

It has a nice ring to it, I thought. It suits him, actually.

+ + +

"So

Poor Little Rich Boy

, what's a rich, trust fund-kid like you doing here?"

I was stunned. How the hell did he find out?

"I, um, nothing really."

Silence. Awkward silence.

"So, who was it?" I had to ask.

"Who was who?"

"The one who told you. I mean, how else could you have found out?"

"Well, considering that you didn't deny it whatsoever, I'm gonna say you." He replied with a small smile. "Besides, it's not like anyone needs rocket science to figure it out. You do look, act, and speak the part."

"Oh."

It was all I could say. I was never really good at comebacks or witty retorts.

That, and I was too busy admiring his cute dimples! How was it that he gets to have two and I don't have any?

"That's twice."

"Huh? Sorry, I didn't quite catch that," I said.

"That's twice you've stared at me." He quipped, laughing.

I looked away immediately. God, what is it with this guy that I can't stop staring?

Suddenly, he was laughing out loud.

"Dude, you should see your face," he started. "It's beet red, man!"

"It is not!"

"Yes, it is! Wanna bet??"

I just looked at him.

"Shut up," I finally said, laughing along with him.

He started rummaging through his doggie bag. I couldn't help but notice that it was so obviously home-prepared.

"Dude, is that… your lunch?" I asked hesitantly, my twitching mouth hardly concealing my grin.

"Hey, I'll have you know our personal chef makes the best turkey sandwiches!" He exclaimed defensively.

"Yeah, okay," I quipped. But it was so obvious even I couldn't help it. "Did it also come with a sweet, wittle wove note fwom mommy?"

We just burst out laughing after that. Looking back, it wasn't even that funny.

That day, I found out that he did just graduate from college, although he definitely looked much younger. I also found out that his family owned

The Company

, and that he was to be my boss, and while I was to have a different immediate supervisor, I was still going to be under him.

Everything's gonna be alright… or so I keep telling myself.

(To be continued…)