Wait and Hope: Chapter Eighteen
A Normal Life
Rafe snuggled closer into the warm body next to him trying to ignore the snuffling in his ear and at the back of his neck. When a low whimper accompanied the nails of a paw lightly scratching at the small of his back, the reluctantly awakened man twisted his torso removing his arm from Harry’s abdomen and lifted his head from the still soundly sleeping man’s chest, turning to face Jack. The dog yowled once weakly with jaws that opened and snapped shut quickly, but his ears kept twitching every which way eagerly.
The canine ignored the scowl on the bearded man’s face and wagged his tail happily. Rafe was about to scold the dog and order Jack to return to his own bed with a silent command using an outstretched arm, but seeing that furry appendage beating the air rapidly extended from a four-footed body visibly vibrating with anticipation; he instead reached out to fondle the dog’s ears. How could he be irritated with Jack? Their walks around the block or runs in the park even as sporadic as those were before the two had been separated had been man and dog’s special time together. Now that Rafe was in Harry’s life that camaraderie had been renewed, how could he chastise the dog for wanting that, even if it was still dark outside?
Using hand signals to get Jack to stay and wait, Rafe swung his legs from the bed and tip-toed into the bathroom to empty himself. Quietly re-entering the bedroom Rafe grabbed his pair of old sweats that he’d left draped over the end of the bed and motioned to Jack to follow him out into the living room.
Jack waited patiently at the entryway to the kitchen cocking his head frequently as Rafe started coffee in the recently purchased maker and pulled a few pans out of the cabinets to start breakfast when the two returned from their morning rounds.
With the season morphing gradually from the balminess of Indian summer to a crispness in the air signaling winter was indeed on its way, early mornings were quite chilly and so Rafe pulled his gray hoodie off its place on the coat rack snuggled among Harry’s outerwear.
Rafe and Jack descended the stairs and opened the brownstone’s outer door almost stealthily not wanting to disturb Martha this early in the morning. She’d meet them upstairs later on for what had become a Saturday morning ritual, the three sitting at Harry’s small kitchen table enjoying a Rafe specialty breakfast and talking about their week. After letting the door ease itself close with a barely discernible click Rafe and Jack bound down the steps and started off in a slow jog to the neighborhood park.
Surprisingly this park wasn’t one to be taken over by undesirable elements between the setting and rising of the sun. The neighborhood may be inhabited by the forgotten poor with many of their homes having fallen into disrepair, but the majority of them were honest, hardworking people who as a whole hadn’t tolerated their morality to deteriorate as well. Though not huge, the park had a nice jogging path and Rafe had the company of a few early risers out for a run themselves.
There was also a fairly good sized dog run where Rafe let Jack loose. The dog had the area all to himself this time of morning, but Jack still chased or played versions of doggie games with invisible playmates while Rafe sat on a bench nearby. While he watched the canine play in the waxing light of sunrise and the changing colors of the morning sky, Rafe sat back to reflect on how much his life had changed the past three weeks.
When he had assumed his Rafe personae all those months ago he had accepted the job that came with it, excelled at it even, and the hours he worked. When he’d been left with one more reward day off-Harry was back at the school in Queens and Rafe was left at loose ends-he had risked Tom’s ire by disobeying the manager’s orders to take time off away from work by coming to the diner in order pass some time. Only Tom had greeted Rafe with a proposition instead of a lecture. The breakfast-lunch shift was Rafe’s if he wanted it.
Seemed the week of Rafe’s vacation Boris had excelled at the Midnight Prep shift. Boris asked to switch shifts permanently if Rafe was agreeable. Before, Boris only went to school when his schedule allowed. Realizing that getting out of work by seven am he could return to college full time, Boris was begging for the change.
Rafe couldn’t believe his luck. A nine to five with alternate weekends off meant Rafe could spend every evening and night with Harry. Their work schedules would match. Rafe was elated! Of course he accepted the shift switch. He thanked Boris with a triple chocolate torte the following Friday.
Harry had seemed pleased with the arrangement as well. Each evening Harry would come home to a large, handmade dinner that would scent the air of the entire brownstone. Rafe of course had a plethora of recipes in his head, dishes he could serve up reasonably sure Harry would love them, but technically Martha had known Harry longer. The woman hadn’t said a word and in fact seemed quite happy that Rafe was now looking out for her friend, but Rafe didn’t want to completely take that away from her. So on some evenings he would stop by the woman’s apartment seeking ideas for something special to prepare that Harry would love, ending up with him in Harry’s kitchen trying out one of Martha’s family recipes. These had been Harry's favorites that had him asking for seconds when he wasn't really eating. So now, with a healthy appetite restored, Harry would push away from the table moaning in pleasure and begging for Rafe to take away the plate before Harry couldn't fit into his suits anymore.
Jack, Rafe, and Harry would go for after dinner walks every night-Harry to work off some calories, Jack to do his duties either the physical or as neighborhood patrol, Rafe just to be seen as Harry’s significant other-the loving happy couple with their dog, a family of three.
Not only had the manager offered Rafe Boris’ shift, Tom had also included a huge bonus in the cook’s paycheck with which Rafe purchased an obscenely huge flat screen TV. Harry had merely lifted an eyebrow coming home that Monday to see the monstrosity hanging on the wall where his recliner used to sit, his living room rearranged and Rafe fairly ready to explode waiting to tell Harry his good news. Harry seemed more than overjoyed to find out they would be able to spend more time together, but Rafe felt somehow he had overstepped his boundaries with the TV. After dinner and two hours of watching Rafe with his new toy, Harry had yawned and told Rafe, “I’m going to bed.”
Rafe had followed him into the bedroom and stood before Harry now sitting on the bed. The other man had pulled his glasses off and was running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. I’ll take the TV to my place tomorrow and put your living room back to the way it was.”
Harry looked up in confusion at Rafe’s apology. “No. No! You’ll do no such thing. I can’t expect you to sit back and read books every night with me.” Harry ran his fingers through his hair again. “I just had other ideas how to spend our last evening together for a while, at least what I had thought would be.”
Rafe apologized for ruining Harry’s plans promising him any night from now on whatever Harry wanted to do, they would do it and took Jack for his last trip outside before bed. Harry was still sitting on the mattress, but had undressed while Rafe was gone. Rafe striped down to his boxers while Harry watched. He expected the older man to lie down and let him into bed, but Harry only looked up, “My evening plans aren’t totally ruined. I still want to do this; I am ready for this.” Harry reached out and positioned Rafe in front of him. Rafe’s special Monday ended with Harry giving him the most amazing blowjob Rafe Rissole, John Reese, or his dozens of other aliases through his forty some years had ever received.
Harry was seated on the bed with his neck and back straight. He simply bent at the waist and took Rafe’s boxer down to the knees. Rafe’s cock was still soft, but was quickly filling as the cool night air unexpectedly hit sensitive skin. Harry nuzzled at the warm sack, mouthing the testes with his thin lips. Rafe groaned and swayed as the sensations twitched his anus. Blood was flowing rapidly to his penis and ...
Harry opened his mouth and took the head into his hot, sleek cavern. His tongue pressed just under the head, moving back and forth. Rafe’s knees nearly buckled. To stay standing, Rafe carefully took hold of Harry’s shoulders for support. Rafe clenched his fists against the pleasure as Harry engulfed his shaft as far as he could.
Rafe looked down at the sight of Harry’s small mouth stretched wide, his red lips tight around the large, veiny cock. Just as the image was about to be too much for Rafe, Harry’s eyes opened and he looked directly into Rafe’s eyes. The adoration in those bright blue pools combined with the devotion in this act of love caused a chain reaction of pleasure.
Rafe’s ass clenched, his hips thrust minutely, his chest seized, and his sight grayed out. The orgasm started in his toes and exploded around his groin, then it starburst surges of feeling to his heart. The aftershocks were intense. Harry licked him clean and returned his boxers to his waist. Weak as a kitten, Rafe was helped into bed by a slightly smug Harry. Rafe slept deep that night.
Now Rafe would watch some sports on mute on the big screen while Harry would read. Harry would lay his feet on Rafe’s lap. Rafe would massage those hard working feet and start moving up the legs. Usually within an hour both men would be necking like teenagers, baseball scores and the next chapter quickly ignored. After some couch fun that more than not ended in a good round of sex, Rafe would walk Jack for the final laps of the night. They would take a shower before getting into bed. That was their weeknight routine.
Every alternate Saturday, Martha would join them for a bi-weekly breakfast and chat. It was a regimen that would have bored John Reese to tears, but Rafe Rissole was in paradise. Yes, Rafe was content and happy as a clam.
Morning run complete, Rafe called out to Jack, “Jack! Let’s go home!”
The dog was prancing about, so excited to go back to see Harry and Martha. Rafe was excited to go home too. They started to jog back to the brownstone when it hit Rafe like a ton of brick: he considered it home too.
The shock of it was a little stupid since Rafe practically lived there already. The brownstone was home. Having a separate apartment at this point was a mere formality. Rafe even noticed the laundry piled in his truck. He really should get to that. Not having been to his place for nearly a week for new clothes was taking its toll. Rafe loved his new life with Harry, but having a second apartment had become ridiculous since Rafe slept at Harry’s every night and the two lovers spent every waking moment together if they could. Rafe thought a conversation about moving in together might be in order.
Of course, like anything involving Harry, privacy or change, Rafe was wary of how to proceed. He might need some help convincing Harry to let him move in. Rafe and Jack slipped into the brownstone and knocked on Martha’s door.
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Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five
Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Epilogue