Mason and Rhys were led into the bank, passing through two heavy wooden doors into the office of the loan manager. A prominent plaque on his desk reminded Mason they were dealing with Ronny Shapiro. The man who first secured his loan on the shop.

Sitting behind the desk was a squat, bald man. What few hairs he had left were combed over his bald scalp. His eyes were unusually beady. Mason could easily imagine him squinting at gold coins all day long.

“Mr. Shapiro, good to see you again,” Mason leaned forward, offering his hand. Mr. Shapiro leaned forward, grasping Mason’s hand tightly, covering his palm in a thin layer of sweat. Mason sat down, sneakily wiping his wet hand on his trousers to dry them.

Rhys shook Mr. Shapiro’s hand as well. “My name is Rhys. It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Rhys…” Mr. Shapiro asked, cocking his eyebrow as he waited for an answer.

“Meadows,” Rhys supplemented. Mr. Shapiro grunted like he was somehow unhappy with his answer.

“So anyway, how can I help you two today? You need an extension on your mortgage?” he gleefully asked Mason. “After your accident, you must be struggling to make good business. Like I said, if you can’t keep up, we’ll have to foreclose on the building.”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” Mason assured him. “We’re actually here for another loan.”

“Another loan?” Mr. Shapiro sat up in his chair, like a startled meerkat. “On what building?”

“The same one,” Rhys assured him before glancing over at Mason. He winked. Mason beamed at his confident boyfriend.

Rhys opened his folder, pulling out the blueprints they had spent most of yesterday going over.

“The garage you provided Mr. O’Neil is wonderfully spacious. A few days ago, we realized it’s big enough for two businesses. That’s what we’re here to propose today.” Rhys placed a copy of the annotated blueprint onto Mr. Shapiro’s desk.

While Mason had made notes resting in bed, Rhys had gone downstairs on Sunday, dividing the space in his mind, sketching down any ideas that came up.

“If we rearranged the car lifts, Mason’s Body Shop can service three cars hoisted up and up to two more in the bay,” Rhys explained. “Then that’s where you come into play. We just need a bit of money to pay for the divide between the two business. Turn one huge space into two medium-sized shops.”

“The second store would be a new business venture. ‘Flower Meadows.’” Mason pulled out the large print photos of the outside of his shop. “Already perfectly branded with our flowers in tires outside.”

“The only other flower shop in the area has terrible customer service,” Rhys carried on. Mason couldn’t help but grimace, remembering how horrid the clerk had been ‘helping him’ find orchids. “I excelled in my horticultural classes at college and am helping set up a hardware shop over the Christmas holidays. So I have experience in both.”

“I see,” Mr. Shapiro said, leaning forward in his chair, squinting with his beady eyes at the blueprints.

“Since we’d have two businesses in the same unit, we can cut down on prices, meaning we’d get more customers for both,” Rhys carried on.

“But what do flowers got to do with cars?” Mr. Shapiro asked.

“Nothing at all,” Mason answered honestly but with confidence. “But there are dozens of shops side by side that have nothing to do with one another.”

“In fact, it means we wouldn’t be in competition with one another,” Rhys clarified. “Both businesses would be free to thrive.”

“And my auto shop has already a friendlier redesign,” Mason pointed out. “So my clientele would already be more… inclined,” Mason paused, trying to remember the exact phrase Rhys had rehearsed with him. “Yes. More inclined to purchase flowers and the like. Plus, the flowers in the tires… on the outside.” Mason grimaced, having trouble remembering their exact pitch. He could assemble a rifle blindfolded but had trouble remembering the exact words here.

“Especially with Valentine’s Day fast approaching,” Rhys carried on. “Flowers for the ladies. Car parts for the gents. Markets for two of the biggest demographics — in one shop.”

“And if we’re approved fast enough, we can get in mistletoe and wreaths for Christmas,” Mason pointed out. “Maybe even a few trees for the holidays.”

“Hmm.” Mr. Shapiro leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know. I’m already backing the one business. Why should I stick my neck out for another?”

“We would only need twenty thousand dollars,” Rhys explained.

“Only?” Mr. Shapiro asked, glaring at Rhys with incredulity.

“That’s mainly for the sign outside,” Rhys explained, not backing down. “and to build the internal divide. Also to buy some of our first supplies from local vendors.”

“Twenty thousand is a blip on the radar considering the value of the building,” Mason pointed out.

Mr. Shapiro glanced between the two men, clearly not impressed.

“Weddings!” Mason suddenly blurted out.

Rhys looked around at him confused, also earning a glare from Mr. Shapiro.

“You must have noticed that there’s been an increase in weddings in the area,” Mason pointed out. They hadn’t rehearsed any of this, but Mason’s idea made sense. “We’ve recently set up a wedding car rental service. Flower Meadows would supply the plants, Mason’s Body Shop the wheels.”

Rhys’s eyes widened in delight before he turned around to Mr. Shapiro.

“That’s right,” Rhys chimed in. “Not to mention school graduation flowers, Christmas wreaths — heck, even Arbor Day tree seeds.”

Mason cocked an eyebrow at his boyfriend using the word heck but was distracted as he turned back around toward Mr. Shapiro.

Most people would have trouble reading his face. But Mason knew the look of greed on his face. The same look he had before he’d approved the loan on Mason’s Body Shop in the first place.

He stood up from his desk, looking at the blueprints below him, eventually smiling. “Y’know, my bosses were kinda hoping to get the building back, maybe sell to a big chain business. ‘The biggest McDonald’s in Hidden Creek,’” Mr. Shapiro held out his hands, showman-style. “But I’ve always had a soft spot for local small businesses. And two businesses, for the price of one.” Mr. Shapiro softly chuckled. “I’ll call to confirm soon, but it’s safe to say we have a deal.”

Mason breathed with relief as he stood, shaking Mr. Shapiro’s hand.

“Thank you for your time today.” Mason shook his sweaty hand once firmly. He picked up the blueprints and photos as Mr. Shapiro shook Rhys’s hand.

“I’ll have my people call to finalize the details tomorrow,” Mr. Shapiro assured them as he ushered them out the door. “And I’ll be watching you closely from now on!” he declared as he slammed the doors shut behind them.

If calling three times a week was normal, Mason shuddered to think what his definition of ‘watching you close’ could be.

He pushed those thoughts aside to enjoy the moment. Mason and Rhys breathed heavily in relief, Mason pulling Rhys into a big hug before grimacing. He’d forgotten about his bruised ribs, and with Rhys pressed against them, they felt like they were on fire — sizzling the tender muscles surrounding them.

“Let’s get you home and rested,” Rhys said as they headed for the door.

“I think that went well,” Mason told Rhys as they headed out into the Texan morning sun.

“Now it’s time to celebrate,” Rhys replied, gently pulling on Mason’s tie.

“Yeah, the shop doesn’t have any clients until two,” Mason informed Rhys. “Lily scheduled a light first day. We could stop by Rocket for a big brunch. Or maybe have a look what’s on Victory Boulevard.”

“Or we could celebrate the old-fashioned way,” Rhys told him as he got into the Impala. Mason pondered what Rhys could mean as he walked around to the passenger side.

“Oh!” Mason exclaimed as he opened the door.

It seemed to Mason that Rhys was driving as fast as possible without breaking the law. They made it back to Mason’s Body Shop in what felt like record time.

Mason awkwardly clambered out of the car as Rhys ran into the shop. Mason paused, looking up at his sign above the big metal doors. ‘Mason’s Body Shop’ — a tire of flowers hanging on either side. He imagined the sign for Flower Meadows hanging next to it, grinning from ear to ear.

“Our shop now,” he thought aloud, and couldn’t be happier with the situation.

“What are you still doing here?” Rhys asked inside the shop. Mason frowned, heading in. “Not that we’re not happy to see you,” Rhys tagged on.

As Mason adjusted to the lighting inside the garage, he saw that Tammy was still sitting on the customer sofa. Lily had joined her, the two of them sipping on cups of coffee.

“What are you doing back already? What time is it?” Tammy asked. She pulled out her phone, her eyes widening as she saw the time. “Oh heck, I’m late for school!” She drank the rest of her coffee in one gulp before leaping up from the sofa.

“You guys were talking for two hours?” Mason asked, looking between the two.

“It didn’t feel like it,” Lily explained sheepishly, then looked over at Tammy. “I’m so sorry I made you late!”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry!” Tammy lifted her bag from beside the sofa before turning around to face Lily. “I meant what I said though — stop by Rocket some time. I can get you the good stuff.”

“I’ll take you up on that, I promise,” Lily said as Tammy headed for the door.

“I’ll walk you out,” Mason suddenly said, Rhys cocking an eyebrow at him. “Two minutes,” he said, heading out the door with Tammy.

“Really, there’s no need,” Tammy assured as she half jogged to her car. “I only missed English. I already speak that perfectly.”

“Next time you see, Lily,” Mason said, “just ask her out on a date.”

Tammy paused, her keys still in the side of her car door. Mason saw her cheeks turning bright red.

“Trust me. Rhys and I talked for hours the first night we met. Wish one of us had made a move a heck of a lot sooner,” Mason said.

“I, well… that ain’t — it’s ain’t like, we… you, but — dammit!” Tammy ripped open the door, slammed herself into the driver’s seat, and sped off before she could splutter out another disjointed sentence.

Mason chuckled to himself as he went back inside.

“Did she ask about me?” Lily probed right away. “Or y’know — whatever, bro…”

“You should ask her all about it when you meet her at Rocket,” Mason suggested. “Now Rhys and I need to head upstairs to figure out a couple more details for our expansion plan.”

“As long as I don’t have to help out with the flowers when they get here,” Lily told them. “I once killed the vase of roses in the living room. They were artificial.”

Mason snickered as he and Rhys headed up the stairs.

Rhys went straight to the cupboard, taking out the packet of dry cat food to fill up Socket’s half-empty bowl.

“Right, now that that’s taken care of,” Rhys told him.

The two men ran to each other, kissing each other like their lives depended on it.

Rhys gently pulled on Mason’s tie, unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt, desperation in his fumbles. It felt to Mason like Rhys needed him to be naked as fast as possible.

“We need to hang these up so they don’t get wrinkled,” Mason bemoaned as Rhys pecked his neck with kisses.

“Your newfound care for fashion is endearing,” Rhys told him.

They stumbled to the bedroom, opening their closet. It was a struggle, since both men were looking at one another instead of the wooden doors.

Eventually they had enough hangers, Mason’s shirt somehow already unbuttoned all the way, exposing his muscular chest.

Rhys slid off Mason’s dark blue jacket, putting it back on the hanger as Mason pulled Rhys’s trousers down.

“Shoes!” Mason realized.

“Shoes!” Rhys grunted in frustration.

The two men parted for a second. Mason pulled his shoes off in one fluid motion, Rhys undoing his laces before sliding them off.

They quickly went back to undressing one another, the bulge in Mason’s pants protruding far. He was happy to see Rhys had a similar storm brewing in his underwear.

When they were down to their briefs, Rhys tumbled onto the bed, Mason gingerly following, tenderly kissing one another.

Mason pulled Rhys in close, angling himself so he was lying on his good side.

“I’m not sure how much moving I can do,” Mason confessed.

“You just lie there. Let me do all the work,” Rhys assured him. He gave Mason one final kiss before nuzzling his rear into Mason’s crotch. He then tore off Mason’s boxers, sliding off his own a moment later. Mason was happy to see Rhys was as hard as he was.

“Oh, you’ll be gentle?” Mason asked.

“Always,” Rhys assured, opening his bedside drawer to pull out a bottle of lube.

They’d spent the last couple days too wrapped up in the business pitch to express their love. Mason knew he was fit to burst.

Mason heard the condom packet ripping open. After a few moments, Rhys turned around, using his mouth to expertly roll the condom onto Mason’s rock-hard member. One day soon, he’d learn the advance man-loving techniques. For now, he was happy just to lie next to Rhys.

Mason heard him squirt out lube, hypnotized by Rhys readying himself with the liquid. Mason felt ripe to burst, and he wasn’t even inside of Rhys yet.

“We don’t have to do anything at all,” Rhys assured him. “No one’s pleasure is above the others here.”

“Please let me fuck you,” Mason pleaded. “Your concern is heartwarming, but we gotta start before I burst in my rubber.”

Rhys chuckled, and before Mason knew it, Rhys was sliding himself onto Mason’s cock.

His lover swayed back and forth, tenderly wrapping around him slowly but surely. Each time Mason entered just a little bit more, the mechanic swaying gently to the rhythm.

Their motions were soon in sync, Mason sliding deeper into him millimeter by millimeter. Soon Mason changed his angle, pressing down somewhat. He’d been doing pre-emptive research and wanted to find Rhys’s prostate.

“Where are you going?” Rhys giddily asked.

“You’ll see,” Mason teased.

Mason then thrust, feeling satisfied as Rhys gasped through his teeth. He was touching Rhys, body and soul, like he’d never done with another human being.

But instead of furiously finishing, Mason carried on gently prodding. Rhys began to gibber, his grin visible even to Mason.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” Mason began to slide slightly faster, making Rhys spew more nonsensical words.

“I can’t, percuffleshup…”

He felt himself gaining momentum, as much as his ribs would let him, riding into Rhys harder. But still tender, not jostling any of his bruised ribs.

“Mason!” Rhys finally managed to stammer out, Mason’s cock reaching peak hardness as Rhys climaxed, spraying the towel they’d laid on the bed.

Mason carried on for a further few seconds, spurred by his lover’s laments. Rhys continued gasping, clearly enjoying how Mason made him feel. After a few more thrusts, Mason couldn’t hold it in anymore and came inside of him.

He gently pulled out of him, wrapping up the condom, placing that inside the towel, and throwing the whole mess off the bed.

That left the two sweaty men to cuddle one another, gently tracing their muscles with their hands.

“I’m so glad you came into my life,” Mason declared.

“Same,” Rhys replied, smiling as he looked Mason up and down.

Mason wondered how he’d ever lived without Rhys in his life. He couldn’t imagine a future without him. And hoped he’d never have to find out.