GENERAL DISCLAIMER: This story contains sexual situations between adult males involving various aspects of the kink and fetish communities. If you find material of this nature offensive then you should not read any further. All characters in this story are over the age of 21. If you are under 18 years old in the US or under 16 in the UK you are not legally allowed to read this story. This is purely a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to any events that may have occurred, are purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the websites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author. Nifty does not exist without donations. If you enjoy these stories, please donate here: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
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The Brownstone on Union Park
- Chapter Eighteen -
"Look, I know it's a lot to take in. If you're really serious about wanting to change your body the best thing to focus on in the interim is adjusting your diet appropriately. You probably heard the cliché that abs are made in the..." Carter cut off and rolled his right hand in a circular motion indicating for Michael to finish the sentence.
Michael stammered, "Kitchen?"
"Bingo!" Carter replied and pressed his index finger on Michael's nose causing him to blush slightly.
It made Michael feel so childish whenever Carter did these little gestures of endearment but he was beginning to enjoy them.
"Speaking of which, I'm actually starving," Carter mentioned and stretched his hands up in a Y-shape almost touching the ceiling.
"Yeah, I'm getting kind of hungry too," Michael added.
"OK then, you wanna go down to the kitchen and get something to eat?" Carter asked.
"Sure, I need to get groceries at some point too. I can pay you for whatever we do tonight though," Michael replied.
"Oh, stop it! It's your first official night here as a roommate. I feel like we should go out and celebrate but maybe we'll save that for when James comes back tomorrow night," Carter demanded and tousled his hair, "We still need to teach you to loosen up and relax a bit! C'mon let's go downstairs, you can finish unpacking later."
Michael followed Carter out of his new room and down a flight of stairs. Carter temporarily stopped on the floor with his bedroom and took off his tank top and threw it in the washing machine and took out a clean one from the dryer. Michael watched intently as Carter moved around shirtless with ease. His back muscles were well developed and the simple process of opening the doors to the washer and dryer highlighted the definition in his deltoids connected to his arms. Carter threw in a laundry pod and pushed a button on the washing machine to start a new cycle.
"Remind me to get my clothes from the dryer later," Carter said to Michael, "James hates it when I leave my things in there."
"OK. Actually, I was wondering, what times can we do laundry?" Michael asked.
"Whenever you want, don't worry about James too much. He bitches a lot but he's harmless. In general, we try to do our last load at ten at night since the final spin cycle can be a little noisy, other than that you could do a new load every day If you wanted to," Carter explained.
The possibility of doing laundry whenever he wanted without stepping outside the apartment seemed like another luxury. During the brutal Boston winters, the ability to stay inside all day and be able to get your laundry done on the weekends was an extravagant indulgence by city standards.
They continued down the stairs to the kitchen and living room on the main level. Carter crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge; the bright white LED lights inside the fridge cast a glow outward to the rest of the space that contrasted with the warmer yellow lights overhead
"Actually, Michael, I want to show you something," Carter said and waved his hand and arm inward indicating for Michael to follow and get closer.
Michael walked across the kitchen to the fridge and stood by Carter. He looked inside and saw a perfectly stacked set of seven black plastic bottom take away containers with clear plastic tops. He wondered how someone could go out and eat so much to accumulate so many leftovers.
"This is part of my meal prep program for this week," Carter explained showing off his hard work in the fridge.
"What exactly is meal prep?" asked Michael.
"So, think of it this way. You know how when you went to the gym at your school in the past and you looked around and didn't know what equipment you should start on or what to do?" Carter asked in an attempt to draw an analogy.
"Yeah," Michael replied.
"Well, eating is the same way. If you don't go into it with a game plan, you get nowhere fast. But, if you stick to a nutrition plan beforehand and map out all your macros, the proteins, the fats, and the carbs, then you can create a diet to meet your end goals," Carter further explained.
"So, you make all your food for the week in advance?" asked Michael.
"Down to the gram! I know exactly what is coming into my body and how much I need to do to burn it off. I also know how many grams of protein I need to maintain my current muscle mass and how much extra I need to eat to make more gains," Carter proudly replied.
It was all a little too regimented for Michael to imagine doing. When he was in college he basically ate whenever he was hungry, whether that was at three in the morning cramming for finals or three in the afternoon because he felt like it. And the idea of eating the same thing every day for a week at a time seemed mind-numbingly boring.
"So, what is in the containers?" Michael asked now genuinely wondering.
Carter took two off two from the top, placed them on the island counter, and then closed the fridge door. He opened the plastic lid of one of the containers and use the corner of the lid as a pointing device. Some of the moisture inherent in the food condensed on the top surface of the lid and fell down onto the food as Carter tilted the lid.
"This is two hundred and twenty-five grams of cooked chicken breast that has about seventy grams of protein. Next to that is one hundred and twenty-five grams of green beans, with two point five grams of protein. And finally, one hundred and ninety-five grams of long grain brown rice with about five grams of protein. Total protein load for this meal is seventy-seven point five grams. You think you'd be interested in this for dinner?" Carter asked.
Michael was not used to thinking of food in such precise quantities and in terms of total protein load. It seemed to take the fun out of eating when food was reduced to such mathematical quantities. Nevertheless, he felt a need to impress Carter and take on new challenges. If meal prep was a part of a path to nutritional success then so be it.
"Yeah, the chicken, green beans, and rice all look pretty good. I'm getting really hungry too after moving everything today," Michael replied.
"Great, I'll warm these up in the microwave. I'm warning you though, I'm not a Michelin Star chef, at least when it comes to seasonings and spices. Feel free to add whatever you want to it," Carter offered and then placed both containers in the microwave with the lids on but not securely fastened.
"There's butter and barbeque sauce in the fridge, lemon-pepper seasoning on the spice rack, but those are my usual go-to's when I want to dress up my food. Use whatever you want," Carter explained.
"Yeah, all of those sound good," Michael agreed as Carter brought the additional items to the center of the island.
"Can you get some dinner plates from the top middle cabinet?" Carter asked as he monitored the chicken breasts warming in the microwave.
Michael found the dinner plates, along with the rest of the dishes in the cabinet and brought two out and placed them by the side of the microwave. Carter crossed to another drawer and took out some silverware stealing some paper towels from the dispenser to use as napkins.
The timer on the microwave chimed three times indicating it finished the cooking cycle and Carter carefully took each black plastic container out with care. He then removed the lids off the containers and a tunnel of steamed immediately shot upward as they were taken off. Carter placed a large dinner plate over the container and then quickly inverted it with two hands so that the dinner plate now rested on its proper bottom surface. He did the same with the other one and served them on the counter by the barstools.
"So, tell me what you think. I know it's a lot of food but try to get through as much of the chicken breast as you can, then the rice, and finally the green beans," Carter reasoned as he brought over some silverware and bottles of water from one of the wine fridges.
"I don't normally eat this much, especially so late at night," Michael lamented
"Yeah, it's not ideal to eat late at night but it's still better than not eating anything at all," Carter explained as Michael began to cut up the chicken breast and took his first bite.
"Oh wow, it's pretty good and moist too!" Michael exclaimed.
Carter laughed and put his arm around Michael's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze, "Hey, don't act so surprised. I'm not a gourmet cook but I can make a meal!"
The two of them continued to eat with minimal conversation. The move, due to the heat and humidity was exhausting, and they were famished. Carter easily demolished the very large chicken breast and liberally sprinkled the lemon pepper seasoning on the chicken and rice. Michael took the container of barbeque sauce and poured some on the plate.
"Be careful with the sauces though, it's a sneaky place were lots of sugar and high fructose corn syrup can hide. But, honestly, you just need to focus on getting in calories right now, so it's no big deal."
Michael looked up at Carter with a tone of surprise. He never thought twice about the amount of ketchup or barbeque sauced he added to anything before. It was just a condiment after all. Then again, if your goal was eight perfect body fat then you probably would think differently too.
By the time Michael got halfway through the rice he was starting to get pretty full and said, "I think I'm reaching my limit."
Carter looked over and noticed that the chicken was gone from Michael's plate and about half of the rice with the green beans untouched. He took out his phone and opened up his nutrition tracking app to make some adjustments to his dinner. Carter then lifted Michael's plate and tilted it to the side causing the remaining food to pile onto his own plate.
"Great, more for me then!" Carter said and laughed, "You did pretty well though, you got at least seventy grams of protein this evening! Did you want anything else?"
"I'm good, I kind of feel like I do after Thanksgiving dinner," Michael replied and took his plate over to the sink and rinsed it off before placing it into the dishwasher.
"Good job! If James saw that he would have said, `Well done!'," Carter replied noting that Michael remembered the ridiculous set of kitchen rules about not leaving plates and dishes in the sink.
Michael came back to the counter and sat on the barstool and looked down at Carter's phone with the nutrition tracking info while drinking more of his water.
"What's all this?" Michael questioned looking at the list of data with various percentages and grams tracked, "Are you're really doing three hundred and twenty-five grams of protein a day?"
"So, like I said before, I track everything to know what I need to hit. It may sound like a lot of protein but in general, it's one point five grams of protein multiplied by my weight in pounds. It doesn't have to be completely precise every day, but as long as the weekly averages are met it's fine," Carter explained, "I'll set up your plan soon too."
Carter quickly finished up the rest of his plate and brought it over to the sink and rinsed his plate and silverware and placed them in the dishwasher too. It was already pretty full so he put in a pod and started the cycle.
"Wow, I can't believe it's already ten-o-clock," Michael announced and stretched his arms indicating he was getting tired.
"Yeah, it's been a long day, huh?" Carter replied, "We should try and stay awake a little while longer so you can digest in a vertical position. Mind if I turn on the evening news?"
"Of course," Michael said in response and made his way over to the couch.
Carter followed and turned on the TV with the remote and switched to a local Boston news station. The newscast started with a camera crew looking at a moving truck lodged underneath one of the Boston bridges:
"It was a mess on westbound Storrow drive by the
Kenmore square exit a half hour ago when a twelve-foot
tall Budget truck got `Storrowed' under an overpass by
the Fenway area. From this reporter's perspective, it
looks like the truck was attempting to get off of the
road onto Kenmore Square and then collided with the
overpass when it did not have the proper clearance."
"Oh damn, this happens every year, when is the city going to fix the entrances to Storrow drive?" Carter questioned and then added, "I'm just glad we weren't affected by this moron coming home tonight.
He looked over at Michael who was already struggling to keep his eyes open and kept falling forward as his consciousness was beginning to fade.
"You alright?" Carter asked.
"Just tired," Michael replied
Carter got up from the couch to retrieve a blanket and brought it back over to wrap around Michael, "Just try to stay upright and digest a little bit."
Michael nodded and readjusted his back on the couch cushions to prevent him from slouching. Carter continued to watch the newscast until the sports section finally came on and got his much-needed update on the Red Sox:
"The Boston Red Sox clinched another victory this
evening with a nine to four win against the Chicago
White Sox. Jackie Bradley Jr. played a critical role
in tonight's game hitting a sacrifice fly in Boston's
four-run seventh inning and a tiebreaking single in
the ninth..."
Carter looked over at Michael who was completely unconscious at this point and asleep. He appeared so innocent and young snuggled up against the soft fleece blanket. Carter moved closer and placed his left arm around him and brought him in for a deeper embrace. He wanted to kiss him again and moved his head closer to Michael's.
"Buzz buzz buzz," Carter's phone vibrated causing him to sigh.
He looked down on the screen and could see it was James, still on west coast time, where it was only seven forty-eight in the evening. Carter pushed the green "accept" button and brought the phone up to his ear while he muted the TV.
"Hey, James, what's up?"
"Hi, Carter, just checking in. How did the move go with Michael tonight?"
"Good, he didn't have that much stuff to bring and we got it all loaded and unpacked pretty easily. The weather was brutal with the heat, though."
"OK, good to hear it went smoothly for the most part."
"Yeah, are you still flying into Logan tomorrow at seven-thirty?"
"Actually, change of plans and this is what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Oh, what's that?
"So, a random guy that I hooked up with at Market Days in Chicago this summer is working down in New Orleans this Labor Day weekend for Southern Decadence and invited me to come too."
"What's Southern Decadence?
"I don't know, I've never been before, but I think it's kind of like Pride for New Orleans."
"OK, so no pickup tomorrow at Logan."
"Right, but here's the thing. My connection actually works as a concierge at a nice hotel down there in the French Quarter and said he could get us a luxury suite."
"Us?"
"Yeah, I told him I was seeing someone even though I'm not because I didn't want to hook up with him again. He actually had really bad breath from what I remember and I'm not going down that road again if you know what I mean..."
"Mmm-hmm..."
"So, I have enough frequent flyer points to do a round trip for you if you want to come. And we have a hotel for free."
"Does this guy expect you or I to do anything in return?"
"No, I made it clear that nothing like that was going to happen. He just said to make sure we buy some event tickets through him at the concierge desk so he would get a commission and it would be fine. So, would you want to come down and fly out tomorrow after work."
Carter looked at Michael again who was clearly asleep despite the noise from the phone conversation and let out another small sigh. The timing of the phone call was eerily reminiscent of the talk James sand Carter had on the boat to Provincetown about Michael just being a roommate and nothing more. He looked away from Michael and continued the conversation with James.
"Sure, what the hell. I'm in."
"Great, I'll e-mail you the plane reservation tonight after I book it. I'll try to get you the extra legroom in the exit row if it's still available but I won't know for certain until later."
"OK, I appreciate it. How was LA by the way?"
"Good, will tell you more tomorrow night when I see you in NOLA, but I ended up having the best sex ever with this one guy I met at The Abbey in West Hollywood."
"Well good for you, James."
"OK, I'll book your plane ticket now but see you tomorrow and I'll text you the address of the hotel."
"Great, have a good night, James."
"Goodnight, Carter."
Carter looked over at Michael again. He seemed so peaceful wrapped up on the couch like that and did not want to disturb him. Carter went into squeeze his shoulders to see if he could gently wake him but Michael was out like a light. He turned off the TV and cleaned up a few more things in the kitchen and wiped down the counters. The sound of the washer could be heard from upstairs, it was on the final spin cycle and would be done in a few minutes.
Michael was beginning to snore quietly as his neck and head adjusted to a new position slumped over on the side of a pillow. Carter gingerly squeezed his shoulder and shook it loosely to try and wake him again but got no response.
"OK, here's goes nothing," Carter mouthed to himself and picked up Michael's body on his sides and draped his waist over his right shoulder.
Michael's head and torso hung over Carter's back with his ass and legs over his front. He half expected Michael to wake up in the new position but his unconsciousness persisted. Carter secured Michael's body by holding his legs with the right arm and cradled his ass with his left hand and started to walk down the hallway to the first flight of stairs.
The washing machine was on its final few minutes of the spin down and the whirring noise became more audible as they approached the stairwell. Carter easily climbed up the stairs and paused briefly as he passed by his bedroom. James was not around, after all, and no one would know but the two of them if they slept in the same bed again. It was an extraordinarily busy work week for Carter and he did not have a chance to get off once in the past three days. He knew he had to get off tonight and was starting to get hard as his left hand felt up Michael's ass.
"No, I can't do this if he's not even awake," Carter reasoned and continued walking down the hallway to the final flight of stairs up to the top floor.
The two of them reached the top floor by the kitchenette area and he continued on into Michael's bedroom flipping the light switch on the way in. The room illuminated and Carter brought Michael over to the bed with the bright red sheets with the yellow Chandler Cheetah logo emblazoned in a repeating pattern. Carter realized the shades were open and went back to the entrance to press the button lowering them so that Michael could sleep in tomorrow.
Carter looked at Michael laying down on his new bed. The mattress seemed so long in comparison to Michael's own body, but that was in part due to the fetal-like position that his body naturally adopted when he was set down.
"Hey, Michael! You awake buddy?" Carter asked as he shook him a little on the shoulders.
Only muffled murmurs of gibberish came in response signaling to Carter that he would not be waking up anytime soon. Carter was about to walk out of the room and decided to help him out of his clothes so he would sleep uninterrupted. He stretched Michael's body out so that he could easily get his T-shirt off and lifted it with ease.
But what to do about the shorts?
Carter pushed Michael's body near the pillows and with some effort was able to peel down the top sheet that he formerly was on top of. It was just one button and a zipper. That's all it would take to get his shorts off. He looked again studying Michael's face for any signs he might wake up but saw nothing and proceeded to unbutton his shorts.
He looked back again. Nothing.
Carter unzipped his shorts and pulled them down slowly around his legs and was finally able to free them from his body. Michael looked beyond cute like this in bed with nothing more than his bright white underwear. Carter could feel himself becoming even more aroused now and put his hands down his own shorts to readjust his package pointing his own dick upward. He knew he had to leave soon else he would be in trouble.
Carter covered up Michael with the sheet halfway and jokingly placed the Chandler Cheetah in his arms while he adjusted the pillows to cradle his head. He finished drawing up the sheets to his neck area and turned around to exit the bedroom and made his way to the door.
He reached the door and glanced back one last time. It was an adorable sight to see and Michael looked so at peace snuggled up in bed with the stuffed animal at his side. Carter wanted so badly to jump in bed with him but knew it would complicate things more than either of them needed at the moment. So, he turned off the lights, shut the door, and left.