Harborside

HARBORSIDE 11.30.19 A Tale of Two Men by Mike Austin

nasstop@yahoo.com

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V.

Saturday and Sam was still asleep when Jack came downstairs. Trying not to wake the softly snoring Sam, Jack paused and took in his sleeping housemate, the covers tugged off his chest, it rising and falling with each slow breath. He took in the soft tufts of hair at the center of his pecs and nipples; the firm though not bulging biceps and the cross tattoo on his left upper bicep. He wondered about the man there and if they would ever wake together on a Saturday morning. It was still early as he moved quietly to the kitchen and began the coffee. Staring out the small kitchen window, he noted the snow had stopped, though must have been recent, as the shudder of the tree branch out front, shook itself free of the small snow mass on its ends. The small red squirrel that made its home in the fork of the tree, scampered out briefly, as it had done every day since Jack moved into #7, now 6 years ago- or was it seven; after Doug.... "Hey mister", Sam interrupted Jack's daze, "that coffee about done"? Jack stuttered, "sssoon". "Today must be my KP duty, so step aside and let me get into action, after all you took care of the supper clean-up, let me make and clean up the breakfast mess", directed Sam. Jack bowed at the waist, extended his arm to the stove and then refrigerator as Sam pushed further in the kitchen for coffee mugs. The kitchen was really a narrow galley design, stove and fridge on one wall opposite the counter and sink on the window wall. There was only one upper cabinet and then lower ones, flanking and below the sink, then at the end a narrow pantry. Two men had to really be lean or navigate effectively, to work in the kitchen together. "What's up for the day or is that what you were planning and I interrupted", asked Sam? "Nothin, just thinking about things and the past and the squirrel out there and trying to remember how long I'd been here, and the snow, and...", he trailed off. Sam poured the coffee, handed Jack a mug and asked about maybe getting out to take some snow pics of the wharves and shrimp boats or going out past the warehouse and up the bluff to get some pics of town before the snow melted or it got sloppy? "You want pics of the cold and snow and boats and bluff, you feel free with your new key, to get the fuck out in the cold and freeze your balls off getting those pics my boy", lectured Jack with a grin. "I'll remain inside by the fire", Jack went on. "Well just don't think I'm gonna hibernate with you pops, I need fresh air and get some scenery before I settle down for the day or night, and anyway, I might get lucky", Sam winked with an elfish demeanor. "About the only luck you'll get on a day like this is a cold", "the bitches got dick last night are still huddled up with em and if they didn't, they're up doin chores and not out lookin", shot back Jack. Sam cupped his crotch and offered to warm em if they needed any, again he winked and cupped his crotch again. Jack could use some of Sam's warming' he thought; then refilled both mugs and questioned, "so what's for breakfast wonder boy"? "I got Sam Sausage for a bitch, but you got to be happy with eggs and bacon I got last night" Sam giggled aloud. "Hey man thanks again for paying the Jaggo bill, but I usually take care of that at month-end so their records and mine balance out", Jack replied. "Poof, it's done and was glad to have some cash to contribute, I ate and you aren't out to support me, after all we ain't married", Sam sputtered and in that instant Jack's daydream resumed, as he sat quietly in the chair by the fireplace, staring into the small flames that he stoked and building; the fire crackling embers and small cracks in the logs, glowed and cinders popped against the fire screen. The warm oak smoke filled the room as he breathed it in, closed his eyes and expanded his daydream.........

Suddenly Sam was there, pushing the plate of food at him, and still dazed, Jack took the plate, nodded his thanks, raised his coffee in salute and set about eating. The fire suddenly shot out extra warmth. Sam began chattering again, like the squirrel outside, on about things to do today, not staying inside, seeing the snow all before they head out on the town tonight...the last phrase punctured Jack's dream and he, back to reality and the present. "What's that mean going out tonight, I had no plans" his reply then broken by Sam, "hell yeah we're goin out, snow, storm, wind, rain like the post office we're there and square, we gotta get out, see and be seen" declared the younger guy; "we not old fuddy duddies, just waiting for time to march past the front window, we gotta get out and turn some heads, maybe tap dance or two; and anyway, how we gonna get laid if we don't go out" he questioned? Jack announced, "I might get a beer or a few drinks, like last weekend, but remember this is a small place; word gets around and if a bitch isn't happy with your performance, word will get out like wildfire and then you're fucked and condemned to a life of beatin off anyway". "Hey once they get their hands or pussy on the Sam Sausage, they're happy campers bud", the younger stated proudly. Jack wondered that same possibility and offered back, "well maybe one or two then I'm done and headed home, but if you get lucky and need the place to screw, I'm a sound sleeper and won't bother me to find some dame waking you up ridin the Sam Sausage Sunday morning". Both guys laughed loudly as Jack headed upstairs to shower and dress for the day. As he stood taking a leak, he heard Sam bound upstairs, fling open the bathroom door and nudge Jack aside, "can't wait and too cold out back to write my name in the snow", rushed Sam. Jack glanced then took in the Sam Sausage as he stepped away from the toilet and let the younger, piss. Jack had to admit that Sam was hung, even soft he could size him at a good 8-9" when hard. He felt his own dick throb and leak as he began stuffing it in his jeans. As with the kitchen, the bathroom was not built for two guys, especially when one was hogging the space in front of the toilet taking a leak. Further, the sink and toilet were on one wall, the tub with shower across the end of the room and the clearance or walkway from the door passed the sink and toilet to the tub was only the 30" door width. Jack was sort of wedged between the toilet behind Sam and the tub, unable to get to the sink or out the door, so he had no place to go or anything to do but take in the still pissing young housemate. "Whew, told ya I couldn't wait", Sam proclaimed, as he shook his dick dry.

Now both downstairs, dressed and ready for the day, the two housemates stepped into the grey gloom of the post snow morning. Harborside Lane was still quiet, but they saw a few people crossing the corner down at Water Street. "Where does Harborside go up the hill" asked Sam. "A farm is up top on one side, but the other side slopes off down to the stream that meanders back into the bay the other side of town", replied Jack; "I've fished in it a few times, but tiny fuckers, not worth the effort unless you were real hungry". The two reached the corner, turned left, away from the warehouse and main part of town, out to the back side of the farm he'd just mentioned and then as Water St. traced the curve of the bay out to the point and harbor buoy at the end of the rock jetty, Jack paused to take in the scene. Click, click, click, he heard behind him as Sam snapped a few of his pics, "don't move" Sam directed. "I'm no poser" Jack replied. "Naw but you bein in the shot, gives some perspective", Sam came back. "Perspective, fuck now you're Ansel Adams", Jack mocked? Sam punched his roommate and they walked out to the end of the jetty. The dampness and lingering flurries mixed to create snow eddies in mid-air, then light on the huge granite stones of the jetty, melt and disappear. The buoy bell clanged for attention in the distance and bobbed gently at the juncture of the bay and harbor. Jack sat with ease on a rock, he'd claimed a long time ago and often shared the same emotions, memories and scenery. Too many times. He watched Sam step as far out near the jetty end as was safe, slip and almost fall then raise back up laughing at his own clumsiness and lack of safety.

While Sam explored more of the jetty and took pictures, Jack reflected on his time in Bayside. It had been 7 years now. He'd sold the old place and was seeking something for an escape from the other life and his past. He needed someplace that had no baggage, no memories, no expectations where he could demonstrate self-reliance and start new. In fact he'd sold his old Ford Explorer to Mr. and Mrs. Jaggo and they still had it. They needed more than just his truck and when Jack had talked to the bank on his arrival in town, they steered him to the Jaggos, who had been shopping for a vehicle. The sale agreement was that if he needed to go out of town though, that he could borrow the Explorer at any point in time. They'd grown close to Jack since his arrival in town and thought of him as a son. Their own would have been about his age, but was killed in a boating incident many years earlier. He'd seen pictures of their boy and he was handsome indeed. He really didn't need a vehicle in Bayside, the warehouse was a 4 block walk, the bank 2 blocks, the Jaggo's store 3 blocks and the two bars he hit were only 2 and 3 blocks as well. The old hotel he'd moved into when he first arrived was terrible but the landlady was kind and actually rented #7 to him when the prior tenant died. All in all, he had a simple life and met each day with a renewed sense of belonging and contentment. And now this Sam guy comes into his life, stirs up his dick AND emotions, sets him wondering about the future, if there's any future, what it may bring and how will his life in Bayside could be changed? Sam re-appeared, "damn fine views, I'd noticed them from the Maryann several times but never got over to get closer views or pics before" he announced. Jack stood and the two guys ambled back into town, hit the Jaggo's store for some gyros and beers, then took them to the bluff beyond the warehouse at the opposite end of town from the jetty. Sam ate like a starving laborer, then stretched out on the snowy-wet ground, knowing the back of his p-coat would be wet at some point, eyes closed after the meal and beer, one leg cocked up; Jack noticing the crotch and faint outline of the Sam Sausage. Jack thought to himself, how amusing it had become referring to Sam's dick as the Sam Sausage, shook his head and smiled a bit, then swigged the last of his beer. He wondered if there had ever been a man get that Sam Sausage before? How might Sam react? Would there be a chance and how might it play out? Jack leaned back against the oak tree at the edge of the stone circle that formed an overlook out at the bay where the stream met from up the Harborside hill, closed his eyes and dreamed.

Both men woke from their reverie. A few couples and kids were setting up a late Fall picnic at the stone circle. One man worked at the warehouse and shook both Jack and Sam's hands as they prepared to leave and return to town. Sam's p-coat was wet but not soaked and it clung to his butt somewhat, the two kids laughed at him as he walked away. Jack was not laughing at Sam's butt however. He did want to towel dry it and more. As they approached the store again, Jack asked about supper, Sam shrugged indicating no plans or preference. Jack advised he'd get stuff for supper and for their meals Sunday and for next week, turned, entered the store. Sam broke off and headed for the nearest bar. It was noon and he wanted another beer and some "scenery" and not the landscape type.