Date: Mon, 13 Jan 2003 19:22:59 +1100 From: Mark Sullivan Subject: hazel-and-brown-3 Hi. Just one warning: this story's pretty slow-paced. That's all. ## ## It's Saturday morning and the weather's great. I think I'll go for a cycle. Somewhere that'll be a bit of a challenge. Say, Dural, almost in the country. It's probably about three hours, good distance. And maybe I'll drop in on Micah when I'm there. OK, I'll admit to myself that maybe I'm getting a bit hung up on him. I spent the last couple of days with him as a major focus of my thoughts, realising that he actually seems to be a nice guy, as well as remembering how good he looked in his squash gear. And I got his address from the squash comp sheet. But it's not like it'll be stalking or anything. I think. I hope he doesn't think so. I'll just drop in casually. I figure that I can keep things on a casual level on the outside while I'm obsessing on the inside, and it won't hurt anyone, and it'll fade after a while. And in the meantime, he seems fun to hang around with, which is how I want things to end up. The ride is a good one, two hours fifty, although as I get closer it doesn't seem long enough. Why am I doing this? I pull up outside the address from the list, and the place is huge. White, glass everywhere, a carport for three cars. I can't go in there, sweat and ragged clothes and all. I saw a public park, about ten minutes back, with a water fountain and some shade, perfect for a short rest, and then go back home. "Hey, Gid!" Oh, he's under the carport, washing one of the cars. I didn't see him with the glare. He's wearing boxers and a sleeveless T-shirt, and he's walking towards me. "Hey," I say, still panting a bit, when he gets closer. "I, err, just thought I'd go somewhere interesting for a cycle." I wonder if I sound normal or demented. I'm never doing anything like this again. "Come in and have a drink, man. You look done." I am tired enough that I'm happy to be led. He takes me through a bunch of rooms to the kitchen, opens the fridge door, and looks around. "Water, juice, or beer?" "Water first, I think." "Well, I'm going to have a beer." "Actually, I thought I'd be greedy and have a beer as well, but after I've used your bathroom. I probably stink to high heaven." "I sat pretty close to you after those intense squash games on Wednesday, and I didn't pass out then, so I reckon I'll be fine. But if you want, the bathroom's just down the corridor here. My room's at the end of the corridor, so come in when you're done." Fuck. Me. Dead. The bathroom's bigger than my apartment. Actually, I guess that's an exaggeration; I measure it, pacing along the walls, and it's about three quarters the size. Who could need this much space for cleaning up? Still, it wasn't him who asked for a ridiculously large bathroom. And the jacuzzi does look nice. I run the tap over my head, and then after some thought splash some water under my arms. I don't want him to be grossed out. I dry myself with the fancy embroidered hand towel. I hope it's actually meant to be used. Back in his room, he's sprawled on his bed. I take a seat on the floor. "I just left my shirt to dry on the shower for a bit. Hope that's OK." He rolls his eyes and laughs. "That's fine." I notice his bookcase. "Hey, I see you've got Jane Austen on your shelf ..." "Yeah, we read her at school." "All four of these? Did you go to some school run by the Sisters of Perpetual Jane Austen Reading or something?" "Nah, we only did one. These are actually my sister's; I just borrowed them and haven't given them back. But I did actually go to a Catholic school." And so we get talking about school, and what it was like, and how it's warped us. He does an impression of his English teacher, a shy guy who suddenly gets all passionate when he's talking about "Wuthering Heights". Micah's pretty funny, making me laugh with stories about the school, practical jokes they played on the brothers. I drink some more of my beer, laugh, and mellow out. Then, while he's talking, he moves slightly, and I'm just at the right angle to see up the leg of his boxers. Is that his dick? I can't tell. I can't look, it'll be really obvious. It's a good thing I don't blush, or I'd be really red now, I'm feeling that hot. If he says anything I could just put it down to the ride over here. God he's got nice legs. I should say something so it looks like I'm not thinking about that. "What are those glasses on the shelf there? They're really funky." "My girlfriend did them." I knew it. I was pretty certain he'd have a girlfriend; statistics told me. He couldn't not have one. "She's a design student." Of course she is. And probably a model on the side or something. But that's OK. "I saw her a couple of weeks of weeks ago, and she gave them to me then." I already knew I was a bit hung up on him, and that it wasn't rational, and that I'd just have to wait it out. So nothing's changed. "You have a girlfriend?" he asks. "Nah. I'm gay." I'm kind of pleased that it comes out smoothly now, instead of getting stuck in my throat, more "I'm g--", the way it did the first couple of times. "You don't like girls?" Almost no rating on the stun-o-meter: he doesn't pause for five minutes, or run out of the room, as has happened other times. He just looks over at me, kind of curious. "Nah, I like 'em. I could even imagine going out with one, if I found one who felt right, the sort of person I liked spending heaps of time with and being touchy with. But there hasn't been one, so I'd feel kind of dumb saying I was bi." "But there've been guys?" "Yeah. Well, two." I don't count the post-Dean one-nighter. "That's cool." We talk some more, but my heart's not in it -- I want to leave, because it's not the easy mood we had before, I feel like I've wrecked it; but I don't want to leave too soon, in case it looks like I only came over to hit on him and gave up when I realised it wasn't going to happen. Cause I didn't, that wasn't how it was. It'll all be fine tomorrow. Eventually I tell him I've got to go, to go out with Jared. "Thanks for the beer. And the water. And the bathroom. And the floorspace. And ..." He laughs. "No wuckers." I only cycle for 45 minutes, and then catch the train the rest of the way home. ## "I see you're going for the pouty sexy model look tonight." I stick out my tongue at Jared in a non-pouty-sexy-model way. "So it's been a long week, OK. I need to go out." Jared's looking fine, as usual. "So how about HomoNoDisco? Catherine Wheel is playing there tonight, should be good headbanging stuff." "You sure you want to go there? How are you going to find any women?" "I reckon there'll be enough there. And if any of them look interesting I'll let them 'convert' me." He puts on this pathetic lisp. " 'I'm a bit ... confused about my sexuality. Maybe you could help me?' " Bats eyelashes. He's so over the top I have to laugh. We catch a train, and then walk to the club. It's 10pm, just starting to get busier, lots of people walking around as well. Hey, it's blond floppy hair ... of course it's not Micah, there's no reason he'd be here, and now that I'm closer I realise the guy's about a foot shorter. We pay the five dollar cover and go downstairs. No idea who the warmup band are, but they're already on and playing. Not too many people here yet -- the place is kind of new, and pretty different from the usual gay bars, so I think it's taking a while to catch on. Beers are four dollars, so I go and buy one for Jared and one for me. The band are OK. Vocals are a bit scratchy, but you can hear them at least. And good bass. When I finish the beer I need to go to the bathroom. Bladder the size of a pea. "Gotta piss," I say to Jared. There's only one guy in there when I go in, and it's obvious what he wants. He's at a urinal, and looks over at the door with his dick hanging out of his pants. I guess I pass muster, because he starts pulling on it, and really quickly it gets hard. He's not bad-looking, and I have to admit it's a turn on. My blood starts moving a bit faster, and down in the right direction for action. But. But. It's stupid, but. I smile at him, trying not to be too encouraging; go into a cubicle, close the door and piss really quickly; and then wash my hands and go. He's still stroking himself, looking over, not sure what I'm doing, I guess. I smile again on the way out. Jared's talking to a girl. Of course. "Want another beer?" I ask. "Yep." "So go get one then, it's your turn." "OK. You want one Mandy?" "Sure." She giggles. God. Jared goes off to the bar. "Jared says you two come here a lot." We've been here once. "You know, spend all your spare time on Oxford St at the clubs." Do I look like a dance party boy? "Yeah, although we're pretty busy with our interior decorating and hairdressing business." I have no idea what he's told her, so I feel justified improvising. He's back shortly, and the three of us just listen to the music for a bit. Then Jared starts pointing out guys to me. "How about him?" "Yeah, he's alright." Then, "Or him." "Mmm." "OK, what is it?" I shrug. He turns to Mandy. "See, we've just decided to have our first threesome, and I think Gideon's getting cold feet. If you'd excuse us?" He smiles one of his most winning smiles, and she leaves, a bit confused. "Come on, out with it." "OK." I drain the rest of the beer. "So it's really dumb. There's this guy at uni. I've only known him a few weeks, and thought he was a wanker at first, and he has a girlfriend, and it's all stupid. I'll be over it in a week, and then I'll want to fuck anything that moves" -- well maybe; it's a bit of an exaggeration -- "but I'm sorry I've messed up the plan for tonight." He reaches up and rubs my head. It feels really good; it's one of the reasons I have short hair. "Hey, no worries. Just whatever. You can check out women with me instead." This is why Jared's my best friend. I'll admit, only to myself, that there have been times sexual attraction has reared its head, so to speak -- one time when he was seeing if he was cut out to be an actor and practised lines with me as the female romantic lead, and I could feel myself getting into it a bit too much; another when we were trying on jeans together, and it was an excess of hormones or something when he was asking me how he looked because I had to go and jerk off straight afterwards -- but basically, it's because he's a rock in my life. Probably more the statue of David by Michelangelo than any ordinary rock, but still solid, someone I can count on, for all the acting like a flake he does. A guy comes up and asks if we want to be in a threesome with him, straight out. Jared and I look at each other and laugh. ## Monday has a bit more stability to it. I get up, do the usual pushups and situps, and feel like it's all under control. Maybe I'll suggest a game of squash with Micah, just to hang around and be normal. He beats me to it, asking me if I feel like getting a thickshake or something. I say sure. We go on over to the mall near the campus and head into Shakers. He gets chocolate -- of course -- I don't like chocolate, don't want to look girly getting strawberry, and compromise with caramel. We talk about not much, but it's like it was at his place when I first got there. It's good, and I'm happy. ## The squash comp starts in earnest next week, so on Wednesday we get in our final round of practice games. I play my first two games with Kevin, who I'd met a couple of weeks ago. I'm sitting on a bench behind the courts, cooling off, and Micah comes off his game as well. He looks over and sees me, then smiles and comes over. This time he's pacing; he takes off his shirt, and then undoes the button of his shorts. It's the first time I've seen his chest, and it's as nice as the rest of him, not too muscly, just right. And my eyes go down, to the happy trail I can see framed by the V of the slightly opened shorts ... What's that all about? Is he just being a pricktease? Just to see whether I react, when he's got his girlfriend? I hate that, doing it just for the ego massage. "You look like crap," he says, smiling. "Well, just cause I don't look constantly glamorous in name brand clothes." I know as I'm saying it that I sound pissed off, that he's just being friendly, and the problem's with me, I shouldn't read things into people's actions so much. My mouth always gets me into trouble. "Of course, if I could, I'd look just like Rodney Martin, endorsing products left right and centre, always looking together on the court." Lame recovery, but at least I sound friendlier, and that it's not that I'm pissed off at him. "Well, as long as you don't try to look like Michelle Martin. I don't think the miniskirt is you." I laugh. "So I'm going to see Aneiki with some friends Friday next week, a mate can get tickets. You want to come?" I want to make up for being shitty. And of course, hanging around with him would be an added bonus. "Yeah, sweet." "Want me to get an extra ticket for your girlfriend?" Magnanimous: I love that word. It's so me. "Nah, I'll be seeing her on the weekend anyway." "Cool." "OK, so we'll sort out a plan later then." "Sure. I'll let you know when the tickets are sorted." Aneiki's song "Pleased to Meet You", a bit dancier than I usually listen to but incredibly catchy, runs through my head. ## I don't do much on the weekend, but that's fine. Saturday I work -- not every Saturday, just when they need some extra hands. It's with Steve from school and his dad, who has a removal business. Steve's not really a friend, but he's not someone I dislike either; we just don't have that much in common. But it's convenient for both of us. The first time I worked for them was after Steve had come to school with his arm in a sling, not broken, just a dislocated shoulder. They'd been undermanned that past weekend, and everyone had had to rush a bit, and Steve had lost control of a wardrobe as it was being passed out of the truck. His dad was pissed off, even though it wasn't really his fault. But it meant that they'd be even more undermanned the next weekend, and maybe would have to contract out one of the jobs. So I leapt at the chance. It was just after Mum and I had had our ... confrontation, and even though I was staying at Jared's house and that was OK, I wanted to be independent, at least partly. Jared had been amazingly cool about everything, considering what a rush it all came out in, but ... what if? Maybe he'd change his mind; you can never really know anyone, after all. Since then, of course, he's been as reliable as he first seemed, but I was a bit messed up about everything then. That first time I worked for only six hours, and I was totally stuffed. ("You look buggered," said Jared when I got back to his house, and after a pause we both laughed hysterically.) My arms felt like they'd fall off. My legs kept buckling at the knees. I slept without having a shower, which looking back was pretty gross. Jared thought it looked so excellent he signed up to be a casual the next week. Now I'm not too bad. I can work the ten hour days, and don't feel too bad afterwards. Which is good because it's one of those days. Get the truck at 6:30am, collect Jared and Steve and another guy Andrew, go out to the first house. It's a couple -- mid 30s, who knows? -- moving from Ermington to Waverton. One of them must have got a big promotion or something; they're moving up in the world. The wife manages to look older than I think she really is, wearing a pearl (again, maybe -- I wouldn't have a clue if they were real) necklace and with that blond streaking that screams corporate wife. Another reason to leave finance. It's kind of fun to tease her a bit. We have a uniform, singlet and shorts that are both short and tight -- I don't know who chose the outfit, but whoever did was a bit of a perve. Maybe Steve's mum. Anyway, all of us are pretty fit, Steve's not bad looking although Andrew's a bit ordinary, and Jared is Jared. So I admit that maybe I do flex a bit when I'm carrying boxes past her, and smile a couple of times. It looks like she's a little flushed. Hehe. I don't mean anything bad by it though. We get our hoped-for beer at the end -- either he or she's been thoughtful -- and get on our way. "Maybe as a finale you could have taken off your singlet and cooled yourself down with the garden hose," whispers Jared to me. "What do you mean?" I think my innocent face is pretty practised by now. Jared rolls his eyes, and I laugh. The second move is a blur -- I just sort of go into automatic mode after a few hours, lifting, sorting, packing. And then it's over for the day. I see Jared off at his place, and get dropped off at mine, leaving Steve to take the truck back. At home I drop onto the bed as soon as I get in, but get up almost straight away, resolving to ignore the temptation to forget about the shower. Muscles hurt less afterwards that way too. After the shower I feel a bit perkier, and decide I might call Micah. Three rings, and it's picked up by a girl. Don't know who it is, so I just say, "Hi, this is Gideon from uni. Is Micah there?" "MICAH! It's for you! As usual. If you ever answered the phone ..." The voice trails off into the distance. I'm guessing it's his sister. A male voice this time. "Hello?" "Hey. It's Gideon. From uni." Just in case he forgot who I am. "Oh, hey." Friendlier now. "I was just watching telly. What's happening?" "Just thought I'd let you know about the Aneiki ticket. I've just come back from work -- we had two houses to move today -- and the mate who's getting the tickets was working today too. It's all set, if you're still up for it." So I didn't really have to call to let him know, but I'm happy to admit it's just an excuse. And so I can slip in the fact that I work as a removalist. Mostly I don't care what people think of me, but I guess I'm hoping Micah will be a little surprised and, maybe, impressed. "You work as a removalist?" He does sound surprised. "Just some weekends. A guy from school, his dad owns a business, so I do some stuff for him. It's been about three years now." "I wondered if you went to the gym. You've got a pretty strong forehand." "Nah, no gym. Do the same lifting, but get paid for it. But I'm not good for much at the end of it. What're you doing tonight?" "Movie. Dunno which one yet ... maybe 'Goldmember', whatever's playing around here. Hey, if you wanted to you could come along." Practicality almost immediately goes out the window. I probably wouldn't even have the energy to drive there, even if I had a car, much less cycle there. Public transport would take hours. But I still almost say yes, until I think about what would likely happen -- it's 10 minutes into the movie, and I've fallen asleep and am drooling on Micah's shoulder. So practicality climbs back in and stages a comeback. Always sensible, I am. "Well, I can hardly even move off the floor, so I can't see myself getting out of the apartment at all. It'll just be me and Julian May tonight." "Oh. Is he there now?" I laugh. "No, she's an author, scifi." Oh well, he'd find out I'm a nerd sooner or later. "I'm just gunna read until I fall asleep." "Have you read 'Dune'?" It's funny how sometimes you can just blather on for hours, and feel so happy at the end of it. We hang up when he hears a car horn honking for him to leave. ## ## There'll be 7 or so parts, I guess. Hope you liked it so far. Remember you were warned it was slow, though. Email to mark_410@hotmail.com is welcomed with open arms and slow-typing fingers.