Time Warp: Nerd and Redneck (Erik)

[Deleted]

Set in 2022

It surprised many people, Kodi included, that the previously harsh, hard-headed, violent southerner had ended up actually graduating only a year late and, after getting his act together and finding various jobs, had landed himself a position at a local bookstore.  He managed to keep the job for several years until the owner actually retired; at the young age of 25, he'd become the owner himself.  It wasn't a particularly glamorous job, but it paid the bills, and Kodi enjoyed being surrounded by literature all day.  He was happy, and that was enough, he supposed.  He was still somewhat volatile and had a nasty temper, but it'd toned down a lot since his teenage years, and wasn't nearly as explosive and unpredictable as he used to be.

He'd never settled down, which really didn't surprised him - he was never the settling type.  He was still in contact with Erik, though, who, much to Kodi's amusement, had somehow managed to make somewhat of a name of himself as a country singer.  Kodi had called him the other day, wondering if he had some free time to catch up, and was now strolling slowly around his little shop, which was nearly closed for the day and likely wouldn't have any more customers until tomorrow, which meant Kodi could expect a quiet evening with his old..... Whatever Erik was.

He wore thick-rimmed glasses almost all the time now, finding no further reason in hiding his bad vision or his 'nerd-like' behavior.  Kodi expected Erik to say something about it, of course.  His hair was dark too, and shorter cropped.  There were still a couple of old scars crossing his bare arms from old scuffles, but there wasn't anything that was too recent.  He only got particularly violent these days when he went out drinking, and he tried to keep himself from doing that as much as he could (although he still went out probably once a month or two).

When the door signal rung, letting him know someone had arrived, Kodi would peek his head around the bookshelves in order to greet whoever it was (presumably his old frecklebutt).  "Is that you, ya hick?" he greeted with a coy smile.

[Erik Stewart]

It was indeed him. He looked much the same: the same face, the same hair, the same angular, gangly body, only this time it seemed longer and just a little more filled out. The freckles on his face refused to fade with age. When he smiled, it was faint and just a tad bashful. They were still rare in private company, but in the public eye he was so often forced to smile for the press and the cameras.

Kodiak likely remembered him as something of a bargain bin dresser, but here he was looking his best. Erik scraped the sunglasses towards his hairline. He had on a set of dark denim jeans and a matching jacket, which ended halfway down his midsection, so one could see the suede button-up shirt diving underneath the belt buckle’s tight waist; there were boots on his feet, a bit hot for a day like this, but good for completing the navy blue palette. The transformation wasn’t all his doing. He had a stylist for these kinds of things – not that she was involved every damn day of his life, but, well, she’d chosen most of what went into his wardrobe, and it was starting to rub off on him.

The first thing he did was utter a short ‘yeah’ and then close the distance to press a light kiss against the side of Kodiak’s mouth. “Here I am,” he said, a little quietly.

Erik was a little embarrassed. He hadn’t gone to see Kodiak as much as he’d liked; things had gone by fast once his career picked up and he found himself with little to no leisure (or privacy). It had taken him by surprise, and maybe everyone else who had known him, too. Erik had been in a very bad place before then, obviously, with no family to speak of, a select few friends, barely-passing grades, and a plethora of festering mental wounds that no amount of counseling could heal…yet, in the end, all it took was a single night at a bar. His hands had been shaking when he first strummed that guitar. His voice, he was sure, had been shaking. Erik was no performer and he still couldn’t have said he was now.

But some people out there, at least, found his voice worth listening to. He had his own little niche in the music industry, as a homosexual country singer and a meta at that…there were still those that vocally despised him for what he was, of course, but Erik was shockingly, enormously, horribly touched that many, many more of them actually liked the fact that he was who he was, that there were people who wanted to hear his experience, who found it intriguing or sympathetic or whatever it was to them.

”Soft, sensitive country sound and one of the most distinct voices in the genre make for a genuine, heartfelt story,” a reviewer wrote. ”…It’s about time the industry makes way for an artist of different stripes.”

Erik had cried like a baby when he’d read those words.

“Nice place,” he said, looking around. It looked old but home-y, in a way, and it was full of that fresh book smell he knew Kodi loved. “How’s business been doin’?”

[Deleted]

It was Erik, but... Wow. Kodi knew he should have expected this, this sharper, more put-together image of Erik he so often saw whenever he searched the guy online, but it was a whole other thing to see it in person. "Ain't you lookin' sharp," he teased lightly, tilting his head and closing his eyes at the sweet little kiss.

He would have asked for more, but instead, he peeked behind Erik and peered out the front window, squinting his eyes suspiciously. "I don't have a horde'a fans out there screamin' for ya, do I, Freckles?" he asked, a smile playing about his lips as he looked back at Erik. "I mean... I guess maybe if word gets out that you came here, I'd get a load'a new customers, but I'd like t'have ya all t'myself for now, if I can." They had a lot of catching up to do, he was sure. When was the last time he'd even gotten to sit down and talk to his old lover? Too long, in his opinion.

"Thanks," he replied, gazing around at his small little shop. "It ain't a lot, but it's enough." Kodi shrugged. "Y'can't expect a lotta business at a bookstore, not with all the silly electronic shit floatin' around these days, but it ain't too bad. I'm gettin' by, at least."

Kodi waved Erik further in, leading him to a couple of large, plushy reading chairs next to each other. He flopped down in one of them, pulling off his glasses and wiping at the lenses before pushing them back up the bridge of his nose. He studied Erik a moment or two longer before chuckling. "Man... If someone'd told me this was gonna be how we ended up like, eight years ago, I woulda laughed my ass off," he grinned. "What's it like, bein' all rich an' famous?" He knew Erik wasn't a huge star or anything, but he still made a good name for himself.

[Erik Stewart]

Erik followed his gaze out the window. He laughed. “I ain’t Marilyn fuckin’ Monroe,” he said.

His music occupied the space between obscurity and mainstream – somewhere in the borderline. He wasn’t sure what to call it. When it came down to it, though, he made enough money off it and then some, and he was still mentioned, and sometimes he got people stopping him on the streets…and he was damn grateful for it; he couldn’t do much else but sing and strum a guitar. Other than give a killer blowjob. “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he assured him. “’Sides, you’re closed, ain’t you?”

Erik didn’t know much about the book industry, but he nodded sympathetically. Inwardly, he winced. Guilty. He didn’t own many books himself, and the few he did were, indeed, on a “silly electronic shit”. He’d never been into novels as much as Kodi had. He’d never realized exactly how much Kodi was invested in them, either, until he opened his own bookstore. He wondered if he was indirectly putting his friend out of business.

”Man…if someone’d told me this was gonna be how we ended up like, eight years ago, I woulda laughed my ass off. What’s it like, bein’ all rich an’ famous?”

He thought. “It’s surreal,” he admitted, finally, with something of a breathy laugh. “It’s like…I’m not really there. Hell, I thought I’d be on th’ corner suckin’ hobos for money by now. Just got lucky, I guess.” Erik paused, hooking his ankles over the other, brows furrowed. “I don’t even think I was the same person in high school.”

[Deleted]

Kodi snickered. "Nah..." He blinked, catching a small wisp of Erik's hair between his fingertips. "Yer prettier." It wasn't a lie, in Kodi's opinion.

He supposed he should be jealous, of this rich and famous lifestyle that Erik was living, but... Kodi wasn't. He had always expected to live a small life; he didn't have any big aspirations or dreams. Just seeing his friend get that far in life was more than enough for him. As long as they were both happy. "If you say so," he chuckled, peering outside once again for good measure. "Yeah, I close in like... Five minutes. So I ain't expectin' anyone." He leered at a random passerby before turning away.

And he wouldn't have blamed Erik for not helping the book industry. Most people that still read paperbacks these days were older folks or hipsters, with the occasional kid coming in to oogle. It was alright, though - Kodi met a lot of interesting people, especially now that he wasn't the snarling, reclusive jerk he used to be. He found he... Enjoyed the presence of fellow book-lovers.

Kodi swiped a hand through his shorter, darker hair, listening as Erik spoke. A smile played on his lips, and he chuckled. "I can't even imagine what it's like," he replied, his gaze going a little distant. "I'm... I'm really happy for you, Erik." He paused, then added,"Even if I don't get t'see ya as much as I'd like." He gave a wink and poked the tip of his tongue out to show he was playing, but it was sort of true. Kodi did wish he could see Erik more often. "Mm... Yeah, I know what you mean," he agreed, resting his elbows forward on his knees. "A lot has changed... for the better, I think." He nodded affirmatively.

"So... You get a lotta action then, with all yer fans an' shit?" he teased, grin widening. "I betcha get a lotta fangirls throwin' themselves at you too."