Mark Caten’s smirk fizzled out as he regarded his two guards. His expression darkened into suspicion.
They must have seen me take the key out of the drawer. They’re probably curious about what it is, what it’s for. I don’t want them to touch it. I don’t want them to steal it and find the door.
I don’t want them to go into that vault.
I don’t want anyone to go in there.
He opened the drawer, pulled out the key, and put it in his suit jacket pocket.
Need to find a safe place for it. No one must ever find it. No one must ever go in there. It is my secret and only mine. Just mine.
Mark Caten put his hand in his pocket and felt the lining. No holes. No snags. No tears.
It’s all mine and no one else’s.
He logged off his computer and shut it down. He put his hand in his pocket again. The key was still there. It was safe. It was still safe.
The key’s solidness reassured him.
Mark Caten pulled his hand out of his pocket and rose from his seat. He tidied a couple of loose papers on his desk before sauntering around to the other side. The key weighted his pocket. It bumped solidly against his leg.
His smirk returned with a vengeance as he approached his two guards. “Well, my dear queer garden variety dumplings! I have a rendezvous with a very important client in an hour.”
The taller guard shifted his weight. “Will you be further needing our services?”
The shorter guard’s shoulders slumped. Caten noticed and chuckled. “But don’t worry. I don’t need both of you. I’ll take….” He waved his finger indecisively. “…hmmm. Oh, why not? I’ll take Little Fag this time.”
The taller guard inhaled sharply.
Mark Caten raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a problem with that?”
He exhaled. “No, sir.”
“Good.” Caten headed over to the door and opened it. “I’m going to shower and change into something that straddles the line between business and pleasure.” He gave the two guards a snide look. “If you two are going to go at it, please make it quick. I don’t have all night. Oh, and please take a shower afterwards. No one wants to smell the gay all over you.” He left the room.
As soon as Caten was gone, Hank removed his mask and threw it on the floor. He raised his spiked club and bashed the mask. It died with one blow, but he kept bashing it. The club repeatedly struck the marble floor, bouncing off it and dinking it.
Dave grabbed his arm. “Stop!”
Hank shrugged his hand off and raised the club again.
“Haaank. Just stop.” He wrapped his arms around his lover’s waist. “If you ruin his floor, he’ll know. He’ll hurt you.”
He tightened his grip on the weapon’s handle. His breaths seethed in and out of him.
Dave laid his face against his back. “Please, Hank. Mark Caten is a small minded man. I’m willing to bet he’s small in lots of other ways.”
He raised the club a little higher.
“Please. He’s gone now. He’s gone now, Hank. Please, Hank. Be with me.”
He slowly lowered the weapon. “I hate him.”
“I hate him so much.”
“I know, Hank. I know.”
“And there is literally nothing I can do about it. Nothing.”
“I know.” Dave moved his hands up his lover’s chest.
Hank released his weapon. It landed with a clank. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.
His body relaxed.
“Let’s not waste our time together thinking and talking about stupid Mark Caten. Haaank, we’re finally alone. He isn’t here, Hank. Mark Caten isn’t here.”
Hank smiled. He couldn’t help smiling. “We should make love on his desk.”
Dave let out a startled squeak. “What?”
He turned to face his lover. “We should do it all over his desk.”
“Do you really want to?”
Hank removed Dave’s mask. “Yes, but no. I don’t want this moment to be all about him or slighting him or offending him.” He kissed Dave. “Just want it to be about us.”
“Oh, so do I!”