The commute

by BRK   

David's twenty-fifth birthday was supposed to be the start of new life, with a promotion and a live-in boyfriend. When all that suddenly goes up in smoke, all he can do is distract himself on the train into the city with imaginings of the lithe, well-muscled body of the fellow commuter sitting across from him.

David wasn’t too keen on the commute. He was starting to think he’d jumped the gun on getting the big house outside of the city, especially now that the two things that were supposed to come with it had suddenly fallen through, like the contents of a wet cardboard box, all in the space of a day. That promotion he was supposed to have been a shoo-in for at his advertising firm, the one that would make those mortgage payments just that bit easier to manage, had been abruptly and mysteriously put on hold. And as for Michael—well, Michael had said no, hadn’t he. That it had all happened the day before his twenty-fifth birthday hadn’t been a coincidence: he’d been motivated this last year to pull himself together in time for this milestone event so that he could start this day, this year, with the perfect life to build on.

So now he had a hour-long train ride each way to brood on his newly single, unexpectedly unpromoted life. David hated brooding. He knew people who seemed to revel in their own suffering, who would be sitting here muttering a wry and morose happy birthday to me to themselves. But David preferred to find distractions for himself, something he could think about instead of wallowing. And he was desperately in need of a new one.

He sighed as he dropped into his seat on the train just as it began to slowly pull away from his clean, well-designed suburban station. Most of the seats faced forward, but he preferred to sit in one of the sets of facing seats, three on each side, that were designed to allow friends or coworkers to sit together and chat if they wanted. It was probably inconsiderate of him to take one of these seats, but the forward-facing ones always felt a little cramped and closed-in to him (his legs were a little long for his height, though at 6’5” maybe long legs were a given). And anyway, he’d very seldom seen anyone but random strangers very busily ignoring each other occupying these facing seats. So he’d sit here until and unless someone asked him to move. He leaned his head back against the cushion and loosened his tie slightly, rolling his head to one side to stare out the window, hoping to see something to catch his interest.

After a few moments he did, though not in the way he expected. As the train slid to a stop in the next station down from his, David spotted a slim, very handsome blond man in a well-tailored light brown suit and hunter-green tie. He was, like everyone in the world, staring intently at his phone, but David liked that he had a backpack over one shoulder instead of an attaché case or something more corporate. David himself favored sleek leather messenger bags, but he thought the backpack looked perfect on the good-looking stranger.

As the train stilled with a soft chuff of the air brakes, David watched as the other man looked up and then headed for the doors at the front of David’s own car. He moved out of David’s view, only to reappear a moment later at the other end of the aisle. He looked over the car, through his eyes didn’t meet David’s, before surging forward as the train got under way again. The train was at this point only half full, but the cutie didn’t stop until he was at David’s row of facing seats. He dropped down in front of David, though in the middle spot of the three on that side, as David’s own long legs kind of prevented anyone from sitting directly opposite him if they didn’t want David’s knee brushing their inner thighs. With a glance at David and a quick smile the other slipped off the knapsack and set it down at his feet and settled into his seat. Immediately he returned his attention to the smartphone he was still holding in his left hand, his hazel eyes already riveted to the screen, right index finger scrolling and poking periodically, before they were even out of the station.

David smiled to himself. All right, he thought, this will do as a distraction.

He wondered what the other man had registered of David with that one glance. Most guys, he knew, noticed the hair first. It was dark and super-silky, never needing conditioner and hardly ever even needing a brush or comb. He always kept it a bit longer than shoulder-length, and because he’d heard from a lot of guys, usually half-jokingly over beers, some variation on the idea that extra-tall, good-looking half-Latino guys like him with nice bodies and green eyes and yummy stubble (and yes, a totally butch, pussy-loving co-worker at his old firm had actually told him, supposedly trying to rib him mercilessly, that he had “yummy stubble”) shouldn’t be allowed to grow their hair long too, because that—well, that was just pushing the sexy Hispanic stud thing too far, wasn’t it? So probably the hair. Or maybe he’d noticed David’s new steel-framed glasses that set off his hair and eyes so well the optician had asked him out (alas, she wasn’t his type). Or the natty navy suit he was wearing, new like the glasses (birthday presents for himself, bought before he’d heard about the promotion), the suit paired today with a soft cobalt-blue shirt and crisp lemon tie as a fuck-you to convention.

Whatever the other man had noticed, he’d shunted it aside in favor of something on his phone that commanded his attention. That was fine. In a situation like this, David was content to be invisible, at least for now. There wasn’t much noise in the car: a murmuring of voices from scattered conversations, and the soft, steady, ever-present vibration and rumble of the train. It all fell away as David let himself slump in his seat, his chin drooping just enough to give a semblance of dozing while he stared at his seatmate through his lashes. The seats across the aisle were empty, and thanks to the height of the head-rests no one else was visible, so David was able to pretend it was just him and the other man, alone in the car, together and yet separate, each absorbed and detached from the world.

David took a moment to appreciate the other man’s tall, rangy proportions. He was taller than average but not as tall as David, maybe six feet even, with smooth, pale skin and thick dirty blond hair cropped short and smart, hazel eyes and full, eminently kissable lips. There was a single freckle right on the bridge of his nose that David thought he could obsess on all by itself, but for the moment he was happy to draw back and take him all in as a whole. He looked lean and well put together, like someone who took care of himself but whose flat stomach (David was sure), broad shoulders and tight, defined muscles owed more to genetics and good upkeep—a morning run, perhaps?—than hours spent at the gym, which David could identify with: he worked out a few hours a week, but his body seemed not to need it, staying hard and extremely fit and trim almost on its own. The other man’s long and lithe thighs, one crossed casually over the other, pulled here and there on the fabric of his well-made slacks, but only, David thought, because the slacks had been smartly tailored, just as his upper arms suggested strength through the arms of his suit jacket without anything like the sleeve-straining size you saw on truly muscular men when they wore suits or dress shirts.

David suddenly couldn’t wait for the other man to stand and turn away from him just so he could admire the way his pants tugged across what was probably a perfect, round ass.

But for now there was plenty to enjoy as the object of his interest carried on calmly and methodically scrutinizing his reports, or—briefs, maybe, as David was tentatively guessing “lawyer” for now—on his phone. His suspended left foot was describing slow, unconscious circles with the toes of his understated, dark brown ankle boots. David let his eyes drift back up him, imagining he was climbing the man with his eyes. For someone so involved in whatever he was perusing, his body seemed less tense than David would have expected. The other man seemed, if anything, more loose and relaxed than most of the people he had seen on his various commutes, and certainly more than anyone at his high-pressure office, where most people seemed to be trying to get to the next level than enjoying what they had. The office. That place where he would still be—where he wasn’t——but no. He had a distraction, he reminded himself firmly, and he was going to focus himself solely on that to the exclusion of all negative and niggling thoughts.

Loose and relaxed, tall and lanky. This was ringing a bell for David, and then he realized he was thinking of Todd. Of course. Todd Lambert. Todd had been David’s best friend in high school, and not only had he been long and lanky like his new traveling companion here, but he’d also been the most relaxed person David had ever known. Nothing fazed him, and you could tell not just from his heart-stopping smile but from the sheer ease of his body language. He was comfortable to be around, especially when he smiled, and David was quick to understand why. As a tall good looking guy who was constantly the subject of adoration by girls and guys alike in school (and afterward), David had discovered in himself a deep yearning for a hot guy who was even taller and better looking than him, and Todd, amazingly and more or less obliviously, had slotted into that fantasy like a hand in a glove from the day he’d moved in down the street from David halfway through their sophomore year.

Best of all, Todd’s reassuring, gut-curling body language had been on constant display because he was most at home churning through a pool like he was made for swimming, and most of the time David spent with him, outside of the few classes they shared, were at either the school’s swimming pool or David’s own. In fact Todd spent so much of his time at David’s, since David’s parent had a full-sized pool that had come with the house and Todd’s family couldn’t afford one, that David’s mom started cooking dinner for four instead of three. David would have felt like he’d had a brother dropped on him out of the sky had David not spent most of his teen years lusting after Todd and his sweet grin and his beautiful body. Even doing homework in David’s room, Todd usually just wore old, loose jeans and nothing else, and of course whenever he was near water he’d shuck those jeans in a second, not even bothering to undo the button or unzip the fly, exposing the blood-red Speedos he wore whenever there was a chance of getting wet. David had memorized every inch of Todd’s long, pale physique, over and over again, until he knew it much better than his own.

David felt the bittersweet curl of unconsummated lust as he remembered Todd, smiling to himself as his big dick, always ready to embarrass him around his hot buddy back then, stirred with memories he hadn’t indulged in in a while. He shifted a hand toward his lap to screen any development of his awakened bulge, and reconsidered his fellow traveler shrewdly. The guy was definitely built a lot like Todd, though Todd had been taller. He stared intently through his lashes, allowing his fertile imagination to take hold. He took in the man, with his relaxed yet engaged posture and a stillness, apart from the slowly circling toe, that seemed to represent calm more than tension.

Something seemed to awaken in David as his seatmate opposite swallowed his vision and thoughts. The universe seemed to contract until it was just them; the train dropped away, the other people, the commute, his job, his birthday, everything vanished into oblivion, lost and forgotten and never-was. Nothing else existed but the other man, sitting there in his suit noodling his smartphone, warm, heart beating, his colors seemingly intensified and saturated. Handsome and collected and somehow singular in the universe. Nothing existed but him, and David, watching him.

He thought about Todd’s habitual nakedness, and in his mind he watched as the man’s brown suit jacket dissipated, dissolving into vapor and vanishing to reveal a crisp, white tailored dress shirt set off by the dark green tie. David negligently let the tie dissolve away too, and now the shirt was open at the collar, exposing a bit more of the man’s lightly tanned throat exactly where David wished he could press a kiss with gently lips. And maybe an appreciative lick while he was at it. David had always loved the chest as torso most about guys he fancied, starting with Todd—though a hot, hard ass and long sexy legs turned him on as well. But right now David was desperate to see, if not touch, more of what that open collar hinted at.

The shirt had to go, and it did, wisping away like the rest and exposing—well, David didn’t know what the man’s body actually looked like, so he filled in Todd’s rangy, beautifully defined, even-taller-than David teen swimmer’s body, every square inch of which he still knew by heart; though this man was paler skinned than the sun-loving, well-tanned Todd, so David adjusted his imaginings accordingly, so that the exposed torso was more alabaster than Todd’s sun-drenched honey-like coloring, or David’s own darker, muted Latino café-au-lait. David licked the insides of his lips as he let his eyes wander over the other man’s delicious pale-Todd torso, with its defined chest, carved abs, and strong-looking shoulders. His big dick plumped in his crotch under the obscuring forearm, and his heart was beating a little faster, but he barely noticed his own arousal. His awareness was the blond man, sitting shirtless across from him, his Todd-like swimmer’s body so perfectly cut he could count the man’s intercostals and trace the veins winding though his shoulders and upper arms.

David’s attention shifted to the exposed, photo-shoot-worthy chest. Todd had been excitingly hairless between neck and waist, but this man wasn’t Todd—he was more mature, and David realized that maybe a little dusting of dark blond chest hair between the pecs might be exactly right on that developed but not massive chest … and maybe, thought David as he let his gaze fall a little to the achingly defined nine-pack abs the other man had inherited from David’s memory of Todd’s long torso, a little treasure trail, too. David sat back mentally, admiring his phantasmal handiwork, only peripherally aware that his heat-radiating dick was now huge and hard in his lap and his heart was thudding like a man about to push his throbbing manhood right into the object of his deepest, longest-cherished desires. His lips curved as he watched the other man working, biceps jumping as he scrolled and typed, completely unaware of all David was imagining for him.

It cam back to David suddenly, with a little jolt of surprise, that while he had obsessed over Todd’s extra-tall, long-limbed, mouth-wateringly cut 18-year-old body, he had in fact seen his old friend one more time after Todd had moved to (of course) southern California for college. He’d stopped by David’s place during a visit to his parents the following summer, grinning at the sight of his high school best bud, and David had finagled him into a swim without too much effort. When he’d eagerly stripped off his shirt David had almost gasped: Todd must have put on a good twenty pounds of muscle in his first year at college, and in all the right places. Swiftly, David now adjusted his mental image to reflect the more muscular 19-year-old version of his friend, and watched as his fellow-traveler’s bare, slightly hairy chest swelled from just defined to nicely thick and luscious, pecs that spoke loudly of the power needed to propel a 210-pound man through the water faster and more elegantly than anyone else. And he didn’t stop with the pecs. Shoulders bulged, revealing thicker traps and rounder delts, pale and awesome against the dark upholstery of the seat behind him. Lats flared outward, not too big but noticeably wider than before. And those jumping biceps (and the triceps in back of them) expanded and swelled, too, as the man added to his upper body the power of a well-built champion athlete. He was glowing with health and vitality, David more aware of the other man’s steady, strong, horse-healthy heartbeat more than his own pounding pulse.

David realized he was brushing his slightly parted lips with his thumb, dragging it slowly back and forth and brushing it with his tongue, his mouth yearning now for the delicious flesh only he could see. His other arm remained positioned to shield his raging dick as it reacted to his handsome seatmate becoming, in David’s imagination that is, not only shirtless and sexy but more sexy, more muscular, and all without having the slightest clue. Todd’s improved form was looking ridiculously good on him. But the other man was still on his phone, typing messages and smiling slightly, fortunately not the least bit conscious of what was going on in David’s mind (and crotch).

David was tempted to dwell on the man’s newly thickened pecs, just to see if he had gotten them just right; but he was aware that he’d be inclined to obsess on them, and maybe imagine them a little thicker still. So instead he prepared to distract himself (from his distraction) by turning to the other man’s legs. But before he had a chance to use his imagination to dissolve away those well-tailored brown slacks, an announcement blaring over the speakers penetrated David’s tunnel-narrow attention: they had reached the main terminal. Noisy, chaotic reality snapped disorientingly back in place around him after the peace of his calm, immersive, isolated fantasy. David noticed for the first time that the other three places in the facing-seats were occupied (apart from the one directly opposite him, which he and the other man were blocking), and the car was in fact packed with commuters who were now climbing to their feel and collecting their jackets and bags and other detritus. Glancing quickly out the window David saw the terminal downtown platform bustling with an uncountable throng of people rushing this way and that, heading for their offices, talking on phones, steeling themselves for the hectic day ahead. David knew he needed to be doing the same, but his attention was drawn back to the other man, who had risen to his feet and was standing there, looking right at David, hand extended and a warm, if crooked, smile on his face.

David stared at him, a little stunned. His amazement was partly due to the other man standing there offering his hand, which was a little disconcerting coming from someone he’d been blatantly and fairly explicitly fantasizing over for close to an hour, without expecting ever to actually interact with him. But it was also because there was something … strange going on.

David paid attention, especially with guys. He saw their forms, their shapes, their weight and heft and the way they moved. And this guy was … not the same. He was taller, much taller than before, and squarer of shoulder. And that was just the start.

“Hi,” the other man said, still holding out his hand. Probably it had only been a couple of seconds, though it felt like longer. “I’m Jared Kincaid.”

Slowly, feeling slightly dazed as if from a knock to the head, David took his hand and shook it. It was a firm grip, and he wondered if it was firmer than it was when he got on the train. Because that sleeve was filled with muscle now, where it wasn’t before. And this man had a chest that he hadn’t had before. A thick chest, a Todd-bigger-and-bulgier-at-19 chest, maybe even a bit bigger than that, a set of pecs impressive enough to be easily perceived even under the crisp shirt and—no tie. The green tie was gone, and something told David it had never been, that it had been wiped from existence. A half-memory of the other man—Jared—standing there on the platform at his stop just after David’s, the collar of his crisp shirt open, exposing the throat that David still wanted to lick. Standing there on the platform taller, Todd-tall, taller-than-David tall, stunning and muscular, upper arms filling the sleeves of his suit jacket, thick, heavy pecs jutting proudly against a shirt that, if it were not perfectly tailored to his form, would have strained slightly at the buttons to contain them. He gulped and tried to focus on not making a fool of himself, even as he felt his cheeks burn and his heart thrash in his chest.

“Da–David,” he stammered. “David Garcia.” He met the other man’s—Jared’s—eyes, and he saw amusement there. And something else, too. Interest? Serious interest. David stared into those mesmerizing hazel eyes, a little awestruck at what seemed to be happening to him. Jared let go of David’s hand, and David realized he was more than a little disappointed to be losing contact with him. He adjusted his glasses and then dropped the arm to his lap, hoping to further obscure his hot and throbbing erection.

“I would have said hi before,” Jared was explaining easily, bending to grab his knapsack, “but there was a little overnight crisis at the office that we needed to tamp down before it got out of control.” He smiled wanly. “Sorry about that.”

David let the apology go, since he wasn’t sure what to do with it. He decided flirting was the only way to save face here. “Do you … always say ‘hi’ to your fellow commuters?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. His eyes fell to that newly swollen chest, marveling again at how the suit was still looking perfect on him even without the impossibly nonexistent tie. Only now it was perfectly tailored to Jared’s revved-up and up-sized physique, and David found himself thinking about how much he wanted to pull it all off, this time with his hands instead of his eyes. His hands—or maybe his teeth. Guiltily he lifted his gaze back up to meet the other man’s.

Jared grinned crookedly again. “Only when they’re really cute, and checking me out head to toe the whole way into to the city,” he said meaningfully.

David ducked his head, feeling his cheeks heating again with embarrassment, but he let a smile spread across his face. More seriously Jared added, “To be honest, I was glad for the, um, appreciation. I had a shit day yesterday, and I kind of needed it.”

David met his eyes again in glad surprise. “Me too—!” he started to say, but at that moment a harried old conductor barged down the aisle, and he saw that the car was now almost empty apart from themselves and a few other stragglers. “Last stop, everyone off,” he barked testily as he breezed by.

David watched the conductor go by, and when he met Jared’s gaze again the other man was now preparing to move into the aisle and depart, though he was still smiling down at David from his improved height. “I guess I’ll … see you around?” David said, trying to sound casual.

Jared grinned widely, and the sight made David’s pounding heart stutter with want. “I hope so!” he said, and with a wink he disappeared, ducking to go out through the exit doorway just like a man who was completely accustomed to being 6’8” and knew to duck under doorways as a matter of course. David’s thoughts drifted for a moment, not settling on anything, and only as he collected himself and bent to gather up his leather messenger bag (so he could hold it in front of him as he headed off himself, at least until his boner decided to subside) did he want to smack himself in the head for not heading out at the same time as Jared—he’d completely missed a chance to scope out Jared’s ass. He had no doubts that it was awesome, and he kind of needed to see it, and maybe touch it. Definitely touch it.

Well, it looked like there would be more chances to observe Jared. Observe and—improve? No. No. He wasn’t thinking about that. Not now. Or, at least, not yet. His top priority would be to befriend Jared, because he had a strange feeling they both needed each other. Befriend him, and, okay, de-shirt and de-pants him, both as soon as possible.

“Happy birthday to me,” he muttered to himself with a little grin as he climbed to his feet and, messenger bag positioned carefully and firmly in front of his massive erection, headed down the aisle and out of the train.

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