This is what happens when I get lassoed into taking friends and family to the nearby theme park over the summer. I witness a totally innocent moment between two guys at a snack stand, and my imagination runs free like a kid on a sugar rush. *g* So I'm blaming this short ficlet on my sunburn, and the really sweet possibilities for love between men that seem to pop up everywhere I look lately. Enjoy~* :)
After his first week at Seven Banners amusement park, Sandy had learned (the hard way) that the longest a kid could tolerate waiting for a snow cone was thirty seconds. From the moment a frazzled parent pulled up to the stand and slammed down a fiver with the order for an extra-large Blue Vanilla Monster, he’d better be digging out the ice and packing it into the mammoth paper cone or else. Underline that word several times and put it in boldface, please. The white polo shirt he’d worn to his first day at work still had the lake-sized, neon-blue stain down the front from when he’d disappointed a very feisty and surprisingly strong toddler. Who knew little girls could flail their stuffed animals around with a batting average that would’ve made Barry Bonds proud? There had to be a way to earn extra cash for college that didn’t put his laundry at such high risk.
A harried-looking dad with sweat-stains on the sides of his baseball cap and on his T-shirt trotted up to the snow cone stand. “I need an…”
“Extra-large Blue Vanilla Monster,” Sandy finished for him, already scraping ice from inside the freezer. He eyed the dad’s little boy, who was bouncing up and down like his sneakers were made of flubber, and started counting the seconds to meltdown. Ten, nine, eight…
“Here you go, squirt,” Sandy leaned over the counter and handed the kid his snow cone.
“Thanks!” The boy grabbed the treat and ran off, his dad chasing after him. When Sandy straightened to collect the scattered paper bills left on the countertop, he found himself staring into the most gorgeous eyes he’d ever seen. Damn…he didn’t even think it was possible for people to have the same vibrant, practically neon blue color as the syrup he used in the cones, but there it was.
“These any good?” the guy smiled, showing off two adorable dimples on his cheeks.
“Hell, yeah,” Sandy nodded very enthusiastically. When the guy reached for his wallet from the back pocket of his red board shorts, that’s when Sandy realized he’d meant the snow cones and not the dimples.
Oh God…red board shorts. Sandy gawked. This was The Guy in the Red Board Shorts -- the hottie with the tall, lanky body and sexy ass Sandy had spent the last couple of weeks ogling from the snow cone stand. Almost every afternoon, the guy showed up on the boardwalk with a kid in tow, probably a younger brother or cousin, and waited on one of the benches across from the stand while the kid bounced from ride to ride. They must have been the only pair who visited the park and never stopped to buy a Blue Vanilla Monster, leaving Sandy to stare at the guy’s backside and fantasize about all sorts of things that would probably make even that randy skunk who was part of the park’s stable of costumed characters blush.
“What should I have?” the guy asked, still grinning.
Me, naked, would be great. Sandy shook his head, trying to clear the worst of his oversexed imagination before he slipped up and said something that would get him fired. “Yeah, let’s see…”
His mind went blank. What the hell did everyone keep ordering? The name totally slipped him.
“I see a lot of people eating that blue thing.”
“Right! The blue thing!” Sandy laughed like a boob. He cleared his throat and reached for a paper cone from the dispenser on his right. “That’s the extra-large Monster. Everyone loves ‘em big.” Did that seriously just come out of Sandy’s mouth? He swallowed a groan and hoped to God the guy hadn’t noticed. Unless he was gay too, in which case that might turn out to be a great pick-up line.
The way he looked at Sandy did change, but not for the worse. The guy’s gaze flicked up and down the parts of Sandy he could see above the countertop, and he opened his mouth to say something. But then he seemed to think better of it and clamped his lips together. A blush spread across his cheeks, bringing out the freckles on the bridge of his nose and making him about fifty times more adorable.
“What?” Sandy asked, extremely hopeful.
“Nothing.” The guy flashed him a quick grin before handing Sandy five bucks and refusing to meet his eyes. “I’ll take one for my brother.”
“Sure.” Sandy tried not to let his disappointment show. He finished making the snow cone, and then added an extra squirt of syrup to make the thing even sweeter. “I hope your bro likes it.”
“Yeah, thanks.” The guy moved off to let a mom with three sweaty tots crowd the counter. Sandy watched him leave while working on autopilot to whip up a cone for the lady. The guy went back to his usual spot across the way, where he handed the cone off to his brother before slumping down on the bench.
Sandy wished he’d said something to the guy -- if not to ask him out, then at least to get his name. Anything.
To hell with ogling from afar, and damn the thirty-second rule. Sandy hopped over the counter with the drippy, extra-large Blue Vanilla Monster in his hand, and asked the mom to wait just a second or two. He jogged up to the bench where the guy was slouched forward, elbows on knees. When Sandy dropped down in front of him, the guy looked up, surprised.
“Have you ever tried one of these?” Sandy asked, handing over the cone. “It’s good to try different things. You might find something or someone you really like.”
The guy stared from the cone to Sandy. The corner of his pretty lips turned up in a smile.
“So what’s your name?” Sandy wiped his hand on the back of his khaki shorts. “And what are you doing tonight?”
“Derrick,” the guy laughed. “And nothing.”
“I’m Sandy and I get off work at nine.” Sandy shook hands with him, their skin sort of sticking together from the syrup residue between their fingers. The touch was nice and Sandy looked forward to feeling Derrick’s hand again later, and maybe on other parts of his body. Acting on pure impulse, he dipped forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t bring your brother.”
“I won’t.” Derrick’s blush deepened.