Thanks again, the response to the first four parts was great, and part 5 even more so although it is the part I'm least happy with myself. Sorry about the corny line at the end, I stole it from 'The Simpsons' (Harvey Feirstein as Executive Homer's assistant), but it seemed to fit the occasion. To everyone who spotted 'car park' and similar expressions, well done. Yes, I am from Britain and I thought I'd done pretty well at not having that come over in the writing (I even spelled colour as color!), apparently not! So here it is anyway, part 6. Apologies for the delay, I took time off to do some other stuff, but I'm back with Mike and Scott now and I'll be concentrating on them until I get bored again. I hope you enjoy this one, comments are still very welcome and so far I've even been able to find time to answer them all, albeit briefly (about 40 a day!).
Disclaimer ==========
This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights (copyright (c) 2000 - ardveche@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between consenting adult males:
- if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.
Now, if everyone who is still here is meant to be here, let's get on with it. This is the first story I've posted so all comments are welcome (email them to ardveche@hotmail.com), but be gentle with me!
The Copier Guy ==============
Part 6: Rebirth
He kissed me! I could hardly believe it had happen, but I replayed the sensation in my mind and my stomach flip-flopped. Half of me was euphoric, the other half was still cursing my own stupidity. Why couldn't this have happened when I was stone cold sober? I resolved then and there to give up drinking. At least when I was around Scott! Then it struck me that I was already assuming that I'd be around him more in the future. At that moment, though, I could think of nobody I'd rather be with. I could only smile dumbly up at him.
"Feel better?" He asked, laughter in his voice. I nodded. "Cool. Now, how about some coffee?"
"Oh, sorry. What must you think of me, I'll make some." I made to stand up but he put his hand on my shoulder and gently pressed me back into the seat. Probably just as well, I think I probably would have fallen flat on my face if I'd stood up just then.
"Stay put, I'll get it." He took his jacket off and tossed it over the back of a chair as he left for the kitchen. Once there I could hear him examining the contents of my cupboards. Eileen's words about microwaved takeout came back to me and I realized there was next to nothing in the whole place to eat. He rattled around making coffee for a bit and shortly came back in and handed me a cup. He put a glass of water on the coffee table in front of me and indicated that I should drink that too. There was a prolonged silence, at first because I was drinking and he was watching me but then it dragged out for longer and I suddenly felt I had to say something.
"You kissed me."
"You noticed. Was that wrong?"
"No. No, it, um, surprised me is all."
"I like to surprise people." There was a mischievous grin on his face now and I got the feeling he was teasing me. I lapsed back into silence as we drank our coffee.
"Thanks for looking after me, Scott. I feel such a fool getting drunk like this. And I know I was babbling and slurring and all the rest. My friend Dale says I drink far too much. Thanks."
"My pleasure, you bring out my paternal instincts." He reached for the now empty cup I was turning round and round in my hands. "I'll wash these, don't go away."
"Don't bother."
"No bother" And with that he left the room again and I heard water running in the kitchen. Use the dishwasher, I thought.
I woke with the worst headache I can remember having. Why had I been drinking? Suddenly I remembered the date with Scott, coming home and falling apart on him. That explained the headache at least, when I've been crying it always makes me feel congested and sort of sore headed the next day. The next day? Hang on, what happened to Scott? Where was I? I gave voice to this last thought, though somewhat hoarsely.
"Where am I?" I opened my eyes and realized I was in my room, in my bed and in a state of undress. Well shorts and T-shirt, but I had definitely been wearing more the last I remembered. I stared up at the ceiling, waiting for events to come back into order and the room to come into focus.
"It lives." A voice said from across the room. Scott's voice. Oh God! Could I have been so drunk I slept with him and couldn't remember? What a nightmare of a day this was shaping up to be. I struggled up from being flat on my back and propped myself on my elbows, focusing on where his voice had come from. He was sitting on a chair next to my wardrobe, fully clothed.
"What happened?"
"Did I take advantage of you, you mean? Only if you have a problem with me sketching you. Oh, and I guess I stole about six sheets of your paper too." He tossed a notepad onto the bed next to me and flashed me that amazing grin again. Looking at the pad it was a pretty good sketch, marred by the lines on the page and the fact it was done with a ball-point, but the situation was suitably bizarre to make me laugh out loud. The moment I did I regretted it, my head throbbed and I groaned loudly. "You sound about as good as you look, buddy."
"Thanks."
"S'okay. Why don't you relax, I'll make you some breakfast." I know I should have protested but I couldn't be bothered, so I flopped back into my pillows as he stood to leave. He stuck his head back round the door, "Oh, there's a glass of water and some aspirin on your left, thought you might need them." He was right, but I was just going to lie still for a bit before I tried to take pills. I'm not sure how long I lay there, time was a bit disjointed, my head ached, and trying to remember the events of the previous night was just making it worse. Eventually though he returned carrying a tray and came and sat down on the edge of my bed. Juice, toast and scrambled eggs, what a guy!
"I could get used to this." I said moving the tray into a more comfortable position.
"Breakfast in bed?"
"Sure, that too." I attempted another smile and found that it didn't hurt as much as before. "I was talking about having a gorgeous man in my bed."
"On. I have never been IN your bed." I was about to respond when he spoke again. "Yet." I expected another devilish grin, but it never came, he just looked straight at me. I felt very awkward and had to look down at the tray for a moment to compose myself.
"So anyway." He broke the moment and I was able to look up at him again. "I went to wash the cups and when I came back you were unconscious, I tried to wake you, but you really were out for the count. So I carried you through here and got you into bed, after that there didn't seem much more I could do so I grabbed a blanket and went to sleep on the sofa."
"So how come you ended up in here drawing me while I drooled into my pillow? It's really good, by the way, can I keep it?"
"Sure you can. I woke up about eight, came to check on you and you were still out. But you looked so peaceful and sweet - all the lines had smoothed out - so I decided to draw you. I found the pad and pen by the phone in the hall." By the time he finished the explanation I had wolfed down the food and was just killing off the orange juice.
"Thanks again then. I guess I owe you big time now."
"Nah, best Friday night I've had in a long time!"
"Ha ha. Are you busy today? I want to do something to make it up to you." He raised an eyebrow at me and cocked his head on one side.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Nothing untoward, I assure you! My intentions are strictly honorable."
"Damn." That smile again.
"Funny. Actually, I don't know, ask me after I have a shower and feel a bit more human." I hauled myself out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. "I won't be long."
"Okay."
I felt so much better after the shower and a change of clothes. But the question remained, what was I going to do to make up for last night? I wandered out of my room to find him. He was in the kitchen, washing up the breakfast things. This was too much.
"I have a dishwasher, you know."
"Yeah, but I couldn't figure out what setting to use, so I did it the old fashioned way." He looked slightly embarrassed, and rightly so.
"Let me see if I understand this. You spend your working day fixing office equipment, but you can't understand my dishwasher?"
"Um, yeah." He looked sheepish, and for the first time since I had met him I was acutely aware of how much younger he was. He pulled himself together quickly though, "Listen, before we embark on your magical, mystery tour can we swing past my place so I can change too?"
"Of course. I'm still not sure where I'm going to take you yet."
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. You about ready?" The old self-confidence was back and Scott was once more in control.
"Yes, just let me put on some shoes."
We chatted about nothing much on the drive to his place, which was on the other side of town, even touching on the weather at one point. Eventually he told me to turn right and stop at the third building down the street, which I did and we arrived outside a pretty shabby looking apartment building.
"Welcome to my humble abode," he said with a wry, almost apologetic smile, "copier repair doesn't pay as well as you might think." I followed him up the stairs, again taking time to admire the way clothes hung on his body. All right, I'll be honest, I was checking out his ass, so sue me. He pulled out his keys and opened the door into chaos.
"You've been robbed." I observed as I looked around.
"Funny, I just need to tidy up a bit." The room was a mess. There were books and papers in piles all over the floor, and dozens of sketches and photographs taped to the walls. What little furniture there was had clothing piled on it. Clearly Scott didn't have many visitors.
"You obsessed about washing a plate at my place and you live in this?"
"Its clean, I just haven't got everything sorted out since I moved in. I need to get some bookcases, a wardrobe, you know stuff like that. But I know where everything is."
"I believe you. So should I just squat on the floor while you get ready?" He frowned at me briefly before sweeping a great pile of papers off one of the chairs. As I sat down he sorted through the clothes and pulled a pair of jeans and a shirt from a pile. I had to admit, under the untidiness it did seem clean and the pile of clothes had obviously been washed just recently.
"Back in a minute."
I was left alone so I got up again and examined the pictures on the walls (and every other flat surface, horizontal or vertical!), many of them were of the scenes or people in the photographs, some of them were just patterns and designs, but all of them were good. I heard water running somewhere and knew I had time to poke around a bit if I wanted to (I love other people's houses), but I decided I should control myself and instead picked up a large sketch book from the top of a pile and sat down. I was flipping through it looking at the various doodles and sketches when I found one that looked familiar. It was of me! He must have done it that first day, after he came to my office.
I stared at it for ages, wondering what it meant, what was its significance. Sure it was of me, which meant he had really noticed me. But then, looking around, he sketched pretty much everything he ever saw. Well, maybe not quite. The water shut off and I quickly replaced the book on the pile as he ambled back in. He looked fantastic in casual clothes, they fit him wonderfully and his shirt was open revealing a smooth, tanned body. Perfectly proportioned as I had known it would be. I heard myself draw my breath in sharply and desperately hoped he hadn't through the vigorous toweling he was giving his hair.
"Hey, handsome. How about some lunch, then a movie or something?" I was as light as I thought I could be, but I was aware of the look he shot me at the word 'handsome'.
"Sounds great. But how about holding the movie until later and hitting the museum first?"
"The museum?"
"Yeah, they've got that exhibition of Egyptian stuff just now. I'd love to see it, and I guess you might like to as well."
"Actually I would, how did you know that?"
"I had plenty of time to browse your bookshelves, remember?" He discarded the towel he'd been using and patted his hair into place with his hands. No styling, just a rough parting and did it ever look good!
"Of course you did. Doh! Well that's great then, I didn't want to suggest it in case it wasn't your thing. I didn't want to bore you."
"Totally my thing. But only if you're feeling up to it." He buttoned up and tucked in his shirt.
"I feel a lot better." Despite all this provocation, I felt I was handling the conversation pretty well.
"You're certainly more lively than you were! And maybe coming out of that shell of yours a bit, too?" A joke, but he was right, I'd never have dared to speak to another guy a week ago the way I was talking to him now. Come to that, its pretty unlikely I'd have been sitting in bed chatting to a guy who just cooked me breakfast a week ago either. Clearly this was a time of change!
We left his apartment and drove back across town for lunch, I wanted to go to a seafood place that I absolutely adore and he seemed happy to agree. All through lunch we chatted about everything and anything (I stayed on water the whole time!) and he made a lot of jokes about the night before. It didn't seem to annoy me though, I liked his smile and his laugh way too much to want him to stop, even if it was me he was laughing at. After a leisurely lunch we abandoned my car and strolled through the park towards the museum.
It was an amazing exhibition, I've been into Egypt since I was a kid and I first read about the slaves building the mighty pyramids. I even took a course on the middle kingdom at college, so I was pretty well informed about the period. Scott seemed fascinated by everything I told him and I soon found myself lecturing away as we moved from case to case, he was hanging on my every word. I was having a great time.
The only fly in the ointment came about an hour into the visit when he bounded enthusiastically up to me to tell me about a burial mask on the other side of the room. He was like a puppy with a toy and he was keen to share. "Come and see it, man, its awesome." And he grabbed my hand to lead me over. I was stunned, there were other people around, how could he be doing this? I jerked my hand back sharply and instantly hated myself for doing it when I saw the look on his face, like I had slapped him.
"God! I'm sorry, Mike, I didn't think, PDAs..." He was apologizing to me? I was the one behaving like an idiot. I knew that, but when he touched me I just panicked. I don't know why. His explanation trailed off and I realized that I was standing staring, open-mouthed, at my hand. I looked up at him and his face was red with embarrassment. The last thing I wanted to do was make him feel bad for being friendly. I forced a big smile and tried to sound normal.
"Show me this mask!" And I did something I never thought I'd have the courage to do, I took his hand. His face lit up, and my heart swelled in my chest at the thought that I had the power to make that happen.
To Be Continued... ==================
Like I said at the start, any comments or suggestions should be emailed to me at ardveche@hotmail.com and I'll try to reply to them, but be nice!