Date: Wed, 22 Aug 2018 12:31:05 -0400 From: Carter Podeski Subject: The Brownstone On Union Park: Chapter 7 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 CONTACT/FEEDBACK: I enjoy getting feedback and I try to incorporate as many suggestions about the story and characters into subsequent chapters whenever possible. Feel free to e-mail me at carterpodeski@gmail.com. ________________________________________________________________________ The Brownstone on Union Park - Chapter Seven - James opened up the linen closet revealing a perfectly stacked set of the same beautifully crisp white towels that hung in the bathroom on the towel rack. They were all so uniformly stacked it reminded Michael of a store display at the big bath stores. Based on his college experience, this looked like the height of luxury and it was wonderful. "We have a rule here that we don't reuse towels. It makes it feel like we're at a hotel," James cheerfully added, "So, after showering just place the used one in the pull-out laundry basket below." Michael could barely believe it; the newness of the whole place actually did feel like a hotel. It was so different from his time at the studio apartment his junior year at college when everything fell apart at the slightest touch. The feeling that someone actually cared about their living space was a welcomed feeling. "Ok, one more flight of stairs to the top and then we're done," James announced. *** Carter readjusted his grip on Michael and followed James up the last set of steps leading to the uppermost level. The layout was a little odd and did not match the rest of the home's intricate design plans. Upon reaching the landing Michael was able to see a small kitchenette across from enormous floor to ceiling glass windows that defined the edge wall leading out to the recently completed roof deck. The small kitchen area housed an under the counter mini fridge, next to a pull-out ice drawer, and then yet another wine fridge. A smaller eighteen-inch stainless steel dishwasher lay adjacent to the area by the sink. It was like a mini apartment up here. A large blank wall peculiarly lay empty without a single picture or decoration near the back next to the kitchen area. Carter began to loosen his grip on Michael and gently returned him to a standing position and asked him, "How's the ankle doing?" "Better with the cold packs," Michael responded. "Good to hear, I think you should be able to walk around here without too much trouble," Carter replied as James took the last sip from his copper mug and placed it on the counter. "So, this is still a work in progress. One day it will be the master suite and the whole top floor will be a single room. Right now, it's divided between the kitchenette area and the other bedroom over there," James explained and pointed to the right-hand side of the room toward the front of the building. "And that would be my room?" questioned Michael. "Yes, let's go in," James said and proceeded down the passageway into the bedroom. It was so naked compared to the rest of the home. Empty walls painted in a faint light blue were the only color in the bedroom. Apart from the smell of fresh paint, the room seemed exceptionally sterile compared to the rest of the place. Michael and Carter followed James in the bedroom facing the front of the brownstone overlooking the street below. The six adjacent windows from the listing were easily recognizable to Michael from what he remembered in the photo. The room was long and narrow with minimal furniture. An extra-long twin bed frame was pushed up against a wall taking up nearly the whole width of the room but curiously had no mattress. There was a dresser on the opposite side and a mirror above it. "Does it come with the furniture?" Michael asked. "If you want it. Our last roommate, Tony, the crazy guy from Chicago, didn't even pay the last month's rent so he just packed up his stuff one weekend when we were away and took off. It wasn't worthwhile trying to chase him down after all the drama he caused. These are actually what's left of his things," James explained. "Yeah, otherwise I would need to get a bedroom set," Michael replied. "I can work my university connections in the housing office at Chandler to get you a mattress at a discount that will fit perfectly. The bed frame is actually an extra-long twin, and all the standard college beds at Chandler are the same length. Tony was taller than me so he wanted the extra inches. I don't think you'll need them though," Carter rationalized and let out a gentle laugh. Michael smiled back noting the height differential between the two of them. "I'd need to get a mattress too, so that would be great," Michael replied. "No problem, I'll talk to my friend in housing on Monday when I go back to work," said Carter. Michael looked around the room again and peered out the windows looking at the gated off garden area of Union Park below. The lights illuminating the fountains contrasted with the creeping darkness of the night. He glanced across the way to see the other brownstones on the opposite side of the street. Each one was so distinctively different on their top level with unique windows and siding while the lower levels did not deviate from their classic Victorian charm. "There's a switch by the lights here to open and retract the window blinds," James explained and then demonstrated by pressing the switch. A low whirring noise started to sound as the light blocking blinds gradually lowered to the base of the window sill. "Nice!" Michael responded. James left them closed and turned around to another door next to the entryway, flicked on another switch, and entered. "And this is your private bathroom," James said, "Or, it will be once it's finished." Michael walked in and noticed there was only a pedestal sink, empty slot for a stand-up shower, and another area for what looked like the place where a toilet would naturally go. "I've had a hell of a time with the reconstruction of the top floor and the bathroom in particular. So, it looks like unless I can come up with another ten to twenty thousand dollars, the cost to tap into the existing sewage line without replacing it altogether is cost prohibitive at this point. The shower stall and the wall separating the toilet space are going away and there's going to be a large soaker tub in here in a few more days once my contractor can start on this job," James explained. Michael seemed ambivalent about all these design plans but generally liked the idea of having a semi-done bathroom to himself. He looked around again and noted the skylight above the soon to be bathtub area. That would be so nice once it was done, to takes baths up there under the stars. James continued, "Eventually, the wall where the dresser is will open out to the kitchenette area and come through the empty wall creating the large master suite." Michael could now visualize where the construction plans were heading and understood the purpose of the empty wall in the other room as a temporary structure. He began to wonder how long the time scale James had in mind for all these projects. What if he wanted Michael out at the end of the year once he had the funding to redo the bathroom the way he liked it? Would he be able to swap rooms on the floor below? And why was he thinking like this when he did not even know for certain he had a definitive answer on whether or not he could move in. James exited the bathroom and flipped off the lights. Michael followed and just when the three of them were about to leave the bedroom he noted there was not a closet to anywhere. "Is there a place to hang clothes anywhere on this floor?" asked Michael. "Another work in progress. I can ask the contractor to put in a small closet where the empty wall is on the other side. I know it's not ideal, that's part of why the rent is only twelve hundred a month," reasoned James. "I'm sure there will be plenty of space with the dresser for my things," replied Michael. They entered the kitchenette area on the other side of the top floor and James pulled a bottle of Prosecco from the wine fridge and three champagne flutes from the bar cabinet. He motioned for Carter to open the sliding glass door to the roof deck with a nod of his head in the general direction. Carter crossed the room to the entryway, flipped the electronic lock latch, and pulled the heavy glass door open to the side. "Let's go out on the roof deck and talk a little more," James suggested. Michael followed James outside and Carter slid the door shut behind them as they stepped onto the roof deck overlooking the back of the building. The soft green glow from the strip lighting below on Mr. Clay's deck shimmered to the edge of the top floor. Large thick glass panels outlined with brushed nickel railings created barriers around the roof deck preventing anyone from getting too close to be in danger of falling over. The railings were motion sensor activated to illuminate a soft warm yellow light when anyone stepped out after sunset and they began to glow. "Have a seat, Michael," James suggested as he placed the three flutes on the center table among the patio furniture. The wind started to pick up a little and, in the distance, there were some flickers of light. The humidity that evening was just as oppressive as it was during the day, the sunset brought down the temperature a bit but not the stickiness of the air. Michael obliged and sat down on a comfy large two-person patio couch overlooking the back of the building. James twisted off the foil wrapper of the Prosecco and began to unscrew the wire cage on the top when Carter sat down directly beside Michael. A moment letter Carter began to spread his legs to the sides and brushed up against Michael's thigh. James had to close his eyes for a second and take a breath, all of this was just a lot to take in during a single evening. He cast his gaze downward a little and noticed Carter's legs; the black Chaco sandals looked so perfectly fitted on his feet with the straps winding around them. The popping sound of the cork shooting out of the bottle made Michael's eyes spring open to attention and returned his view to the center of the table. He breathed in heavily and watched as James sat down in a solo seat and began to pour the bubbly Prosecco into the glasses on the table. Immediately, the surface of the glasses began to sweat as the coldness of the Prosecco condensed the humidity around it. They bubbled and effervesced and Michael could even pick up on the notes of fruit and flower from the three pours. "So, Michael, you've pretty much seen the whole place now," said James and picked up a glass by the stem and handed it to him, "Do you think this is something that you'd be interested in for September?" Michael accepted the glass and held it in his hand by the flute, not the stem, warming the Prosecco a little with his touch. He swallowed hard trying to clear his throat to reply. "Yes. Of course, your place his amazing, I'd love to move in," he responded. James then looked at Carter and asked, "How do you feel about this, Carter?" Michael got the impression that James was used to being blunt about things, but it was a little too much to have this question asked directly in front of him with Carter sitting so close, with his thigh touching his own. With the same natural ease as he did everything else, Carter replied, "Sounds good to me. I think we can trust him, it sounds like he's good with us," and smiled affirmingly looking directly at Michael. With that, the three of them raised their glasses and said, "Cheers!" in unison. Clink! Clink! Clink! They each took a drink and rested the glasses on the table. Michael smiled in return and nodded his head in agreement prompting James to ask, "I'm not sure if you wanted or needed a formal lease but I'm happy to draw something up. Otherwise, it can be just a month to month thing for however long you want. If or when you decide to move out I just need a month's notice to prepare." "Month to month is good," James replied as he heard some thunder in the distance. "Great, the last thing then is the matter of the rent. I pay the mortgage at the beginning of the month so I need the rent payment at the same time. You can do check but an electronic transfer is easier on my end. Do you have Venmo?" James asked and took another sip of the Prosecco. "I do," Michael replied and then asked, "when would you want the first rent payment?" "First of the month would be great," he replied and came close to finishing the glass. Another clap of thunder and flash occurred in the distance. "No problem," he said as he handed James his phone with the app open taking another sip. James took the phone and found his name among the thousands of other "James Stillmans" in the world and handed the phone back to Michael. Michael screenshotted the image to use again later when he needed to make the rent payment and then asked, "If it's easier I can just send it to you know." Some faint trickles of rain began to fall on them as more ominous thunderclaps began to roll in from the western side of the city. Carter looked down at his phone trying to get a glimpse of his weather app that had radar to see if the storm was going to get worse or was merely brushing up against the city. The radar map showed a bright red and yellow cloud of precipitation quickly approaching the Back Bay and South End neighborhoods. "Hey guys, look at this," Carter said and flashed his phone outward showing the massive thunderstorm rolling into Boston. About a second later all of their phones screeched and beeped in unison as a "FLASH FLOOD ALERT" message was displayed. "Damnit, I hate those things! They scare the hell out of me every time!" James exclaimed causing him to spill the remaining Prosecco from his flute. "Maybe we should pack up and go inside?" Carter reasoned and finished off the rest of his Prosecco. Michael had more than half a glass left but chugged it quickly and returned the champagne flute to the table as the sky illuminated with a nearby lightning strike followed by a deafening thunderclap. Their glasses shook on the table and rattled against the surface. James grabbed the bottle that was still about half full, along with the champagne flute, and made his way over to the sliding door entrance. Michael and Carter each picked up their glasses and followed quickly as it began to downpour. James used his free hand to finagle the door handle but it would not budge. "Carter, can you get it?" James asked as all three began to get soaked from the downpour. Carter handed Michael his empty glass and used both hands on the door as James backed away to give him room. He pulled hard again but the door did not budge and he tried again giving it a jiggle in an attempt to open it. It did not open. "Oh, fuck me!" James said as he realized the electronic lock must have reset itself, "It locked itself!" The three of them were getting wetter and wetter as the seriousness of their predicament set in. Another flash of lightning and a thunderclap occurred nearby but not as close as the last one that rattled the table. Michael instinctively turned his neck in the direction of the thunder. James pulled out his phone again trying to pull up the home automation app that controlled the door locks but the Wi-Fi signal was weak on the roof deck. He would have to switch to the LTE cellular network and turn off the Wi-Fi on his phone to get the locks to work. The storm was intensifying over the whole city; a large arc of lightning could be seen striking the antenna structure on top of the Prudential tower in the Back Bay. The bright white lightning just hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity with its flanking tendrils diverging from the main bolt and extending outward before the sky went dark again. The bright flash cast an eerily beautiful bluish-white light on the side of Carter's face as he looked back in amazement, water dripping down his face. The soundwave from the thunderclap finally reached them and the windows and sliding glass door on the side of the house reverberated in response. Michael was just about on his last nerve with the storm. He loathed being outside in severe weather like this ever since a bad experience he had camping in his youth. "Damn, that's sort of awesome!" Carter cried out looking back at the lightning strike not realizing the extent of the danger they were all in. And they were vulnerable on top of the roof deck so exposed to the elements. The rain continued to stream down their faces soaking their clothing. Carter's already tight-fitting shirt was drenched and the outlines of his chest and nipples could be clearly seen. Michael lost it internally on the last and most powerful thunderous eruption and accidentally dropped the two champagne flutes on the ground. They easily shattered given their delicate form. Carter looked back at Michael sensing how unnerved he was by the storm and thunderous eruptions. He placed his hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him when James finally got the app on his phone to release the lock on the glass sliding door. Carter heard the distinct click and subsequent beep indicating the door lock was now freed to be opened. "Carter, the door!" screamed James as he put his phone in his pocket and grabbed the bottle along with his champagne flute. He easily opened the door this time and the three of them quickly made their way inside with Carter going in last, his hand behind Michael's back on the way in.