Working Stiffs (Freyson)

Taco Tuesday

Memo to staff:  "Breaks are thirty minutes.  Thirty, not forty, not fifty, not don't-come-back-for-the-rest-of-the-day.  Thirty.  You are on company time.  Remember that.

Also, today is Taco Tuesday in the lounge so enjoy.  Antacid will also be available so no calling off work tomorrow."

Greyson barely paid attention to the new memo on his computer.  His thoughts were on Freddie, the baby face guy who wears lacy pink panties beneath his work clothes. 

Yesterday Greyson took Freddie on a tour of the place, showing him the copy room and how to work the new machine.  He even took him to the best places to sneak a smoke.

"I don't smoke." Freddie had said.  "It's bad for the lungs.  You shouldn't smoke either."

Greyson found it somewhat amusing or whatever that Freddie would be concerned for his well being.  What was it about him?

"Do you wanna join us for drinks after work?" Greyson asked, wondering if Freddie even drank.

Freddie looked down at his feet.  "I don't drink, plus I have to go straight home.  My grandma will worry."

Grandma? Seriously? Normally if it had been anybody else, Greyson would have mocked the hell out of them.  Why was it so adorable with Freddie? Was he for real?

Greyson slid out of his cubicle and snuck a peek at Freddie who was several cubicles away.  Freddie was bent over his desk writing, working hard like a little busy bee.  Dammit, what was it about him? He had to know.

Greyson texted Ree Ree: Hey what's the story on the new guy?

Ree Ree: which one? We have three?

Greyson: Freddie Highmore, the one that you told me about. The one I had to train.

Ree Ree: No.

Greyson: What?

Ree Ree: You heard me. No.

Greyson: I just wanna know his story.

Ree Ree: You just wanna get in his pants and suck his dick.

Greyson: Damn girl, don't be shy now.  Just tell me about him.

Ree Ree: Like what?

Greyson: Shit I don't know anything.

"Hey, Greyson?"

Greyson nearly jumped out of his skin as he dropped his phone.  He looked up and saw Freddie standing over him.

"What are you doing?" Freddie asked.  "Why are you all hunched down like that? Are you feeling okay?"

Greyson retrieved his phone and sat up.  For a moment he thought that Freddie knew he was being texted about.  "No, I'm good.  What can I do for you?"

"I'm having some issues with my computer," Freddie was saying.  "And I was. . ."

That was as far as Greyson listened.  The image of Freddie's buttcheeks peeking out from the pink lace was burned into his mental storage.  He couldn't get it out of his head.  Why did Freddie like it? More importantly, why did he? There was something about it, he couldn't figure out what it was that fascinated him so.  He wondered if Freddie was up for some play later on.

"What?"

"What?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Freddie asked.

"Uh, no reason." Greyson quickly stood.  "Lead the way, I'll take a look at your pan. . .your computer."

Freddie took him to his cubicle and showed him the problem.  As Freddie bent forward, Greyson leaned back to have a look at Freddie's ass.  Unfortunately it was completely covered in black pants, shirt tucked firmly in.  The ass was good though, a good handful.  He could imagine burying. . .

"What do you think?" Freddie suddenly stood up.

Greyson had no idea what Freddie was talking about in the past whatever minutes.  "Uh, I'm going to need you to show me again so I can assess the situation a bit more." He tried to sound as business like as he could instead of the horny horndog he was.

When Freddie turned around, his hair was close to Greyson's nose.  Greyson took the moment to inhale Freddie's scent.  Mmm, nice.  He had a fresh scent, like an open meadow on a sunny day, or something like that.  Fresh.

Again Freddie turned around.  "What are you doing?"

"What?"

"Are you smelling my hair?" Freddie looked aghast.

Greyson could not think of a lie for shit.  "Uhhh. . ."

Freddie backed away.  "You know what? I'll ask one of the tech guys.  Thanks, you can go now."

Greyson went back to his desk.  Damn, what was Freddie's deal? Maybe he was completely hetero.  Maybe he took that damn memo seriously.  Whatever it was, Greyson would have to forget about Freddie.  For now.

Later on, Freddie sat in the lounge having some tacos and thinking about Greyson.  What was that guy's deal? Was Greyson going to bully him because he liked wearing panties?

Freddie found himself thinking about him.  Greyson wasn't bad looking.  Tall, full lips.  Nice strong looking hands.  Big feet.  He wondered what the rest of him looked like.

No! Freddie read that memo about co-workers and smut.  He was not that kind of guy.  He would not give in to that.  Besides this was his first job and he wasn't going to blow it.