Wednesday Briefs: Stan and Ollie #1

Good morning one and all, and happy Hump Day/Wednesday! Time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers, right? This week, the prompt was: "I'm glad that I'm finally done with..." and the alternate prompts were: Use: pony, magician, strike or "When did you last see...?" or use either a sunset or a sunrise in your story or "I know I'm forgetting something..." or use: purple, ambidextrous, sugar.


Last week was the last of my Trapped in Time stories that I'm going to post. Now I need to finish it up and get it ready to sub. But, instead, I bring you something new. For now, I'm calling it Stan and Ollie. More of a working title than anything else. Have suggestions for a real title? I'm all ears!  At any rate, enjoy! And don't forget to visit the other Briefers, whose links follow  my tale!

Stan and Ollie #1

The sun is sneaking over the horizon, tendrils of maroon and orange stretching from the egg yolk epicenter, marring the otherwise perfect blackness of the dawn sky.  I suppose some people might wax philosophic over the beauty of such a sight, but I’m not one of those. I much prefer the night, personally.  

I shuffle the short distance to the open dumpster behind the diner, kicking pieces of gravel that have the misfortune to lie in my path. They ping against the metal of the oversized trash can, breaking the silence.  I hoist the black plastic bag in my hand and slung it inside.

Good riddance to bad rubbish.

 My hands feel greasy; I wipe them against the flour stains on my apron, before turning my attention to the only reason why I’d even be up at such an hour, why I even bought this diner in the literal middle of nowhere.

He’s standing just a few feet away from me, silhouetted against the rising dawn, perfect face turned up to infinity. I don’t need the light to tell me how incredibly good-looking he is.  I already know.

As well as I know what he’s doing.

I don’t want to crowd his space, so I wait patiently for his morning vigil to end, for him to come back to me. So I can pick up the pieces when he doesn’t see what he wants to see—and he never does. It’s not that he really expects to, but sometimes hope outlives common sense, and your heart just tells you to keep trying.

I respect that in him.

He stands there, his hands held together, palms upraised in silent supplication, his profile turned toward me at just the right angle for my open admiration. I give it to him as I give him all of me—freely and willingly. He is mine now and I’d do anything to keep him with me.

He lowers his hands to his sides and then I know he’s done and it’s okay to speak.

“We could close the diner, you know. Take a day off. Go back to bed and fuck all day long. Whaddya think, Ollie?”

He cocks his head, his gaze riveted in the distance for a long moment, before he turns to face me. I can see, in the dawn’s early light, his electrifying smile. Even from the short distance between us, it sends shivers coursing through my body, and not the kind you get because you’re cold.

“We could do that, Stan,” he replies in his mock-serious tone. “There’s nothing I’d like better than going home and spending all day in bed with you, you know that.”

Yeah, I know that. I also know it won’t happen. We say these same words every day; it’s all part of the ritual.

Moving with all the grace of a sleek jungle cat, he dances into the circle of my arms, and I hold him close, and we both stare out into the rapidly diminishing darkness. For a planet that no longer exists. Of course, even if it hadn’t been blown to smithereens, it would not have been readily visible. Too many light years between us and where it had been.

Now that we have that out of the way, we’re free to begin our day. In our case, that means prepping to cook and serve breakfast for the inhabitants of this sleepy little town. And the truck drivers who make us a regular part of their route between here and wherever.

I kiss him softly, run my hand through his golden curls, and worship at the altar of his lips.

“Can I get some Belgian waffles before we open?” he asks, trailing one long fingernail down my cheek, his body arching into mine, producing an ache a mile wide. I stifle my moan, but I know he’s heard it anyway.

“What makes you think you deserve them?” I pretend to put up an argument, for appearance’s sake. He only gives me a knowing grin in reply, but the hand that snakes between us is fighting dirty, and I catch my breath. I know exactly why he deserves to have them. Last night was spectacular. But then, every night with Ollie is spectacular. And every day.

He feels my surrender and kisses me again. “With strawberries?” he cheekily asks, and I raise my hand to swat his perfect ass, but he nimbly sidesteps me. Actually, what he does is perform a cute little maneuver he has that he likes to call trans-locating himself. I call it cheating, personally, since I can’t do it, and it puts us on an uneven playing field.  He can literally move from one position to another in the blink of an eye.  Like magic, except not. There’s a scientific explanation for that, and I know he’s tried to tell me what it is, but hell if I can understand all the jargon he spouts, so I just give up and accept it for what it is. His own personal brand of bullshit.

It doesn’t matter. As long as I can find him, then I’m okay with it.

It’s not until we’re back inside that I hear the pounding on the front door. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. “We’re not open yet, people, can’t you read?”

I guess not, as the sound continues, the door reverberating with the force.

“Why don’t I open up?” Ollie suggests.

“No, I said I’d make you Belgian waffles and that’s what I’m going to do,” I growl.

I hear a hiss near my feet. Another country heard from. One, quite frankly, I could do without. Miserable feline, and I use the term loosely. Xylina is a cat of many trades and many faces. And a major pain in my butt.

She leaps into Ollie’s arms and meows at him, God knows what. I don’t speak the language.

“Someone needs our help, Stan,” Ollie informs me.

Great. Who needs us now?

to be continued

Now go see what the other Briefers are up to!

Nephylim     m/m

Cia    m/m

Michael Mandrake   m/m

MA Church    m/m

Tali      m/f

Elyzabeth M. VaLey m/f

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie