Dave and Marshall

Dave watched his manager put the day's take into the bank deposit slot across the way, then waved the man off. He locked the door and set about turning off the rest of the lights. He hated the midnight madness the street always ran on the last Friday before Christmas.

Sure, it brought in a lot of sales, but it left the store a mess and his sales people cranky. Him, too.

He looked around the store and decided the place could stay messy as shit until morning.

Someone knocked on the front door. Rap rap rap.

"We're closed." He added a "god damn it," under his breath as he turned to shoo the latecomer away.

He heard the soft chuckle, saw Marshall's grin and the two cups of steaming coffee.

"Oh!" He unlocked the door and slid it open, letting his lover in. "My hero!"

"Hey, you. Thought you could use a hand." Man, that was a great smile.

"From you? Always." He beamed at Marshall, returning his lover's smile. "Of course the kind of hand I want is better off being given in the office than out here..."

"Good thing you're the owner and have a key, hmm?"

Marshall closed the door, locked it.

He focussed on his lover's ass. Fuck, it felt like it had been far too long since he'd had it. "Uh-huh."

Pretty, warm eyes met his in the reflection of the door. "Show me the office again, man. I'll make you forget it's the silly season."

"Only you can, man."

He put his arm around Marshall's waist and led his lover to the back room and a little privacy.

Dave and Marshall are from Burn.