also remembered that it took three hours to get back into the city.

He glanced at Chris. There was silence in his head for a moment as if all the voices had abandoned him to reason. It was a little disconcerting but flattering at the same time. He decided not to read anything into it, still an invisible smile was drawn over his face as he thought about Chris's delicious tender spot. "This is a funny" he started, part of him not wanting to acknowledge the sex. He tried to make his voice sound distant, undisturbed, uninterested but it had the opposite effect. It was the same voice he always used but it seemed to betray him. It sounded giddy. He turned to Christoff to read something in the eyes that looked back at him but they seemed to have held no recognizable thoughts.

"I need a hole dug in the back yard to fix a pipe, then there is a bunch of stuff in the storage house to load up on the back of the truck so I can haul it away. Can you handle that?"

"What?" All he'd heard was something about a hole. Silvio was a bit dumbfounded having forgotten that he'd been picked up for physical labor. His dick was already hard. He generally preferred fucking guys for money when he could, but that generally didn't involve a lot of actual work. He'd take of his shirt, hammer a few nails and get invited in. "Yes I can do that" he managed. "But I thought, maybe you" he stopped and decided not to continue. They pulled into the driveway.

"Do you remember the park?" Silvio kneaded his cock hoping that he could get Chris to look at him, to glance down in the way he'd stole those shy little glances at him before, to somehow affirm that his cock was unforgettable, to say lets skip the plumbing and the shed. 'I've got a better idea.'

"You never called" was what he heard. The words sounded cold. They were like a warning and an acknowledgment Silvio figured.

Chris went into the back yard and showed Silvio what needed to be done before he disappeared inside the house. He didn't reappear until noon, by then the leaking pipe had been exposed. The mud had worked its way up to the top of Silvio's head. He looked as though he'd dug a hole six feed deep instead of two. The yard had started to look like a miniature swamp Silvio thought. He'd started moving stuff from the storage house as well and had most of it squared away. It was nothing more than old books, Christmas decorations, clothes, a few rusty garden tools and supplies for firing clay. Nothing remotely interesting, not a shred of porn, no scandalous diary or bank account information, just work and the repetitive round trips between the truck and the shed.

They ate together on the back patio watching the season grow an hour older. They didn't really talk, not even about the Cubs game that had been on the night before, they simply listened to the sound of their own chewing and occasionally fanned insects that seemed to demand a portion of tuna salad.

That evening when Silvio had filled the truck, he was tired, sticky and horned up thinking about the blowjob he wasn't getting. After tossing part of an old bed and headboard in the back of the cab, he went and knocked on the