Date: Tue, 17 Aug 2010 03:23:15 -0500 From: Mathew Davidson Subject: What You Mean to Me, Part 1 Should you be reading this? This story contains descriptions of sexual interactions between consenting males and if its illegal where you are then, don't do it! If someone says you cant and doesn't have a good reason however, then I quote my favourite author on this site, "Fuck Em" try it, you never know! I do occasionally use derogatory terminology in my work, and I apologize if this causes offence to anyone. It's not meant that way at all. Also sorry for any spelling mistakes, I get a little dyslexic at times. What You Mean to Me: Part 1 "We're all done here." I opened my eyes and looked into Sam's dazzling blue orbs. She was smiling, and I smiled back. Sam looked amazing, as usual, and I could several of the guys in the other chairs in the tattoo parlour eyeing up the amazing body hovering over me. I could grudgingly admit that Sam was a perfect specimen of the human form and was insanely attractive... if you went for such things. Fortunately for her, I didn't. I much preferred to either sit and close my eyes and think, or stare at the tough-guy's with their shirts off in the other chairs. I had never met or seen an obviously gay guy when I came here, and I was here a lot, for long periods of time. Its was my favourite tattoo parlour, but only because of Sam. I had first come here several years ago looking to get my first tattoo, and I met Sam on that day. It was her first day on the job and she was just waiting for someone to show up and give her something to do, since all the other artists had clients lined up months at a time, but she had only just started a few hours before I walked in the door. Now most people want a certified artist with a portfolio of examples and reputation to back it up, a tattoo after all will be with you forever, you want it done right. But me... I took a risk. I'd love to say that it was her amazing energy, or the excited way she looked at any picture, but in reality it was the fact that she was new, and therefore cheaper. At 150$ an hour, she was the cheapest in the shop. She started my tattoo the next week and I was in love from that point on. That first one... was still my favourite. A dark angel, that if anyone would bother too look close enough would notice has distinct malevolent undertones, which symbolized evil. It was massive, as far as "first" tattoo's go, and covered most of my upper right arm and shoulder. I loved tattoo's, my body was now evidence of that obsession, and Sam had helped me put that love into my skin. I tossed her a warm smile and thanked her again, she had already covered my back over the part she was working on with blue bandages. I walked out of her area and to the front desk, handing over my 600 in cash then walking down the stairs onto the street outside. I popped a smoke out of the case I kept in my back pocket and lit it in one fluid motion, idly thinking to myself that practice makes perfect. I started walking down the street, heading in the direction of my work. I passed all the familiar sights, I made this walk twice a day, I could do it in my sleep, and eventually came to the mirror store. I was relatively sure that if there was a god, he had opened this place up on my walk to work just to spite me. I hated the way I looked, and yet here was 30 yards of nothing but mirrors I had to walk past every single day. I stopped and looked into the largest mirror examining myself. At the age of 20 I stood at 5'7", with jet black hair and a relatively dark tan, and deep brown eyes. I hated the way my face was set up, and the way that no matter how much I shaved I always looked like I had a 5'oclock shadow. At the moment I was wearing a tight fitting white T-shirt which emphasized my stocky physique. I was by no means fat, but neither was I cut. My arms rippled with muscle but that was the only place it was obvious, my chest was rock hard yet continued to defy me in terms of actually forming into a six pack. I sighed and continued on my way, pulling out another smoke and lighting it off the butt of my last. Next down the road was the end of a massive housing complex that was being built, and I saw several workers working on construction. I was still looking at one guy on the roof when I felt someone looking at me. I lowered my gaze and met the eyes of one of the most beautiful guys I had ever seen. He was only slightly taller then me, with dark hair that looked black from where I was standing. He was slight of frame and the shy smile that appeared on his face when he saw me looking at him was stunning. He quickly looked away and disappeared behind the half finished house. Several minutes later I arrived at my restaurant. It was still weird to think of it like that. MY restaurant. Ok well it was only mine during some of the time... whenever Chris wasn't there. And neither of us actually owned the place... but He was the chef, and I was the sous-chef, and when we were there it was ours, in fact when the owner did occasionally stop by, even he deferred to us. And tonight, it was mine. I walked in the front doors and up the stairs into the lounge. Louie greeted me from across the bar and I waved. Danielle ran up to me and gave me a hug, her massive breasts bouncing as she jogged the few steps. All the waitresses were like that, it was an expensive restaurant after all, with big fake breasts and equally fake smiles for the customers to ogle while they ate their food. I returned the hug to Danielle and gave her my most dashing smile. "Don't do that! Its no fair to tease!" She whined. "If you can bounce those balloons around in my kitchen and distract all of my male staff with your scandalous clothes, I can do to you whatever I damn well please little miss." She laughed and walked over to the bar. "Get your gay ass into the kitchen, CHEF!" I chuckled as I headed that direction. I smirked at my use of the words "little miss", truth being I was the youngest person employed in the restaurant, and yet I was second in command. I walked along the back, noticing that there were a number of tables without food, and was almost at the door to the kitchen when a server pushed past holding a tray of food. "Stop." I said. The server complied, I did this whenever food went past me. I looked at the dishes and was mostly satisfied, so I sent her on her way. I pushed through the swinging doors into the sweltering kitchen. It was about 30 degrees Celsius outside, which meant in the kitchen we were pushing 60. I waved at Oliver who was working line and proceeded into the office to change. I emerged a few minutes later clad in my uniform. I chuckled to myself at the irony of it. Yeah, dangerously high temperatures for days at a time, and I get to wear all black canvas clothing. Life was cruel sometimes. I grabbed my clipboard and looked at the notes Chris had left me. We apparently had a new guy starting tonight, which made me grin. The last time Chris had let me break someone in, they ended up crying and quitting shortly thereafter. Nothing else was on the list so I went onto line and chatted with Oliver and helped him finish the bills that were up. Once that was done we walked into the back of the kitchen, known as the prep hall, and leaned against the wall and looked at Oliver. He wasn't overly attractive, he had a great many scars on his face, which was another story all together, and his physique was average. But he had a killer smile and just watching him grin left no doubt in my mind as to how he got laid all the time. "New blood in tonight eh?" He asked. "Yeah, some kid Chris picked up at the college. I hate it when he finds staff there, they never work." Oliver burst out laughing. "No never... Except you of course." "Hey, I'm just fucking special. We've hired three people from the professional cooking program since me, and not a single one lasted more then a month. We'll see what this ones like." Oliver and I finished the prep for the evening and I sent him home. It was a quiet night and I knew I could handle anything that came in, and I had the new guy in in an hour. I puttered around for awhile, cleaned some of the machines then I heard someone yell from the front of the kitchen. "Hello? Anybody home?" It was a high pitched nasally voice, and I took an instant dislike to it. I walked into the front of the kitchen and saw my new charge for the first time. He had short, greasy brown hair and acne was wreaking havoc on his face. He was overweight and his eyes were a dull grey. I sighed, I was hoping for some eye candy in the kitchen, not this. "Hey. I'm your sous-chef, welcome to the kitchen. Head to the back and dress in and we'll start your training." The kid nodded and walked to the back area where we had some lockers and the staff bathroom. He dropped his back pack and pulled out the uniform he had been given when Chris hired him yesterday. I knew from experience that when the jacket had been given to him it would have been perfectly pressed and never worn before, yet the thing he pulled out of his bag looked like it had been tossed in a corner and stomped on. He probably had just stuffed it in his bag and left it overnight. "Your jacket looks like that tomorrow, don't bother coming in. Image is very important and you look like shit." I turned away and walked onto line and waited for him to finish changing. Several hours later I sat in the office while the kid, who's name was Mike, started cleaning the kitchen. I had learnt that he was barley competent at anything, and had almost no work ethic whatsoever, I gave him a week before me or Chris fired him. I finished the paperwork and left some notes for Chris about the new hire, then went onto line. "Mike!" I barked. "Yo?" He stuck his head around the corner, a blank look on his face. "Dinner time, what do you want to eat? Burger sound alright?" "Yeah man! Thanks, I'm starvin'." I made the burger for him and threw in some fries, then made a salad for myself. As I sat there eating my salad, waiting for Mike to come collect his food, he walked around the corner and burst out laughing. "A fucking salad? You gotta be kidding. That shits for women and queers." He sneered at me. I raised my eyebrow. We had one staff member a while back who was homophobic, but after that incident Chris had made me promise not to hit people. Best be diplomatic I told myself, the kid wasn't going to last anyways. "This is your first and last warning. Keep your opinions to yourself, or find a new job." My tone was level, but I was having difficulty keeping my face blank. Mike laughed, oblivious to my anger. O joy I thought, opinionated AND stupid. "What, you some kind of fag? Come on man, a guy like you shouldn't care if I make fun of fairies." Not allowed to hit people. Had to remember that. I turned away from him and pressed the button on the wall that paged the server to come to the kitchen. Moments later Danielle walked in, smiling widely. "What can I do for ya sir!" She looked at my face and her smile faded away. "Is there anyone in the restaurant?" I asked in my most friendly voice. I could tell it didn't fool her, but at the point I didn't really care. "Umm... No the last table just left. Remember last time..." "Yes I do. It wont happen again. Now me and Mike are going outside to have a cigarette. Come on Mike." Mike looked confused "I don't smoke though..." I turned and looked at him "I don't care. Come outside." We walked down the stairs out the back door and into the alley behind the restaurant. I sat down on the curb and lit a smoke. "Take a seat hot shot." "Uhhh... K." Mike sat beside me, a sceptical look on his face. "Now, as a matter of fact. I AM gay Mike. Will this be an issue in the kitchen?" "Seriously? You don't act like a butt pirate at all! I don't fucking believe it." "Watch your mouth. Now, let me ask again and maybe that little pea brain can comprehend it the second go round. Will this be a problem?" "Fuck yes it will, Im not working for some queer." I sighed. I slowly unbuttoned my jacket and stood up, hanging it on the handle of the door leading back inside. "There, I no longer represent the restaurant. Now, do you have something you'd like to say? Perhaps some simple minded religious gibberish? Or something that further points out your lack of tolerance? Or maybe explain to me how it affects you in any way." Mike laughed that cocky annoying laugh again and met my eye. "People like you disgust me, you were probably eyeing me up the whole night, that's why you made me bend over so much. I just plain don't fucking like you, and you make fun of me one more time and I'll shut your mouth myself." It was my turn to laugh now. "Eyeing you up? Your ugly as hell, I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last ass on earth. Get the fuck out of my sight, you can collect your shit from the restaurant when Im NOT there." I saw that my words had a distinct effect on the guy, his eyes bulged out and his face got really red. He took a step towards me with clenched fists. I laughed at him again "What you want to fight me now? Fine, lets get this over with, I have shit to do." Mike dashed the last few steps towards me and threw an awkward punch at my midsection, I took the blow in stride and felt the wind pushed from my lungs, which I ignored in lieu of the right angle to drive both my index fingers into the place on either side of his neck above his collar bone. He crumpled to the ground and I sunk to one knee, my other leg pushing straight down onto his ribcage. I wound back and gave him one good hit to the face then stood up, he was writhing on the ground clutching his neck where I had jabbed him and his nose was bleeding profusely. I walked back inside, grabbing my jacket as I went and locking the door behind me. As soon as the door closed I doubled over clutching my left side. The hit he got in had hurt, a lot, and I'd have a nice bruise come tomorrow. The fact that he managed to punch part of where my tattoo had just been done didn't help the pain at all. Danielle was waiting at the top of the stairs, and Chris was standing behind her. I rolled my eyes, just what I needed. Chris gruff voice broke the silence. "You OK?" "He only hit me once, ribs are gonna be sore. That's about it." "Who started it?" "He did. I finished it." Chris gestured for me to follow him and turned and walked back to the kitchen. I shot Danielle a glare and she shrugged and gave me a `what was I supposed to do?' look and followed Chris. I walked into the kitchen and Chris was sitting at the desk in the small office. Danielle had gone to the front again, probably not wanting to witness the results of her treachery. I sat down at the only other chair in the office, wincing a bit as I did so. I looked at Chris and he just stared back at me. I had never been able to read his face, he really only had one expression, and it was pissed off. He constantly looked like he was about to murder someone, and that look could still silence me and make me nervous after all these years. But still, Chris was my mentor and I respected him greatly. The silence lasted a long time, until Chris finally said "I watched it, Danielle called and I came down right away. I watched you talk to him, then take off your jacket. Good that you took off the jacket, the company cant afford to have you beating the shit out of people while you represent us." I grunted, that's what I had thought too. "But come on, you cant keep doing this man. Not everyone will be as accepting as you want them to be. It DOES matter to some people. You cant just hit every fuckhead who hates gays." I looked at my shoes and grunted again. No matter how successful I was, this man would always have the ability to make me feel like I was a four year old being scolded for doing something naughty. "Get the fuck out of here, I'll close up, get some rest, I'll see you tomorrow." I nodded my thanks and grabbed my bag, not bothering to change except to take off my chef's jacket and toss it in the bag. I walked out of the restaurant and started down the street to where my house was located, in the same direction I had come earlier. I didn't remember doing it, but I had a lit cigarette in my mouth, which I sucked back aggressively. I always managed to find trouble, always. I was to much of an aggressive person to just take the shit people threw at me. The last time I had started the fight in the kitchen, except it was with someone who was actually in shape and knew how to fight, and it had ended with both of us in a hospital and a lawsuit against the company, almost costing me my job. This time there would be fallout, but it wouldn't be near as bad. I was still mulling these things over when I arrived at the housing construction site I had walked by earlier. It was dark out, and I could just barley see someone standing and talking on a cell phone outside the gates. As I got closer I started to make out the conversation. "...cant pick me up for sure? Ah fuck, alright I'll figure something out. No its fine, talk to you tomorrow I hope." I was very close now, and I could see that it was the dark haired guy I had seen earlier in the day. He looked even better looking in the soft light from the street lamps high above. He was tanned and had a perfect complexion, and the most amazing brown eyes I had ever seen, set over his perfect mouth which was pouting ever so slightly. The tight white T-shirt he was wearing emphasized his lean physique and defined muscles, and he had one of the best asses I had ever seen, I could make out two nice bubbles of flesh through his tight jeans. He looked up at me as he hung up the phone and I found myself smiling inanely when his eyes met mine. I suppressed my sudden giddiness and summoned the courage to speak. "Trouble getting a ride?" He seemed a little startled that I had stopped to talk to him, and stood there for a moment without answering. Finally he gathered his wits and responded. "Yeah... My uh.. Ride bailed on me." "Well you can catch the number two bus and it'll take you to the station if you want to train it, or call a cab." I offered. "Don't really feel like taking a cab and I don't know what busses to take to get home, I'll probably just go stay at a hotel for a night or something. Have to be back here in like eight hours anyways." "If you need a place to crash you can stay at my place, it's just down the street." I felt immediately stupid for saying that. Here we were, total strangers on a dark deserted street, me in filthy work pants and a white muscle shirt with tattoo's running down my arms and a smoke hanging out of my mouth. Yeah, I bet I looked real damn trustworthy. I'd probably send him running. I winced outwardly and looked at him, and I could see uncertainty in his eyes. His answer took me totally off guard though. "Sure actually, would be a hell of a lot cheaper then a hotel. Are you sure you don't mind?" Now it was my turn to be flabbergasted for a moment. Finally I managed to spit out the words "Nah, its no problem." I started walking in the direction of my house and he fell into step beside me. He smelt faintly of sawdust and sweat, which I found very arousing. We walked in an awkward silence for a few blocks, until he finally broke the dead quiet. "You work around here? I saw you walk by earlier today." "Yeah, I'm a cook at the Metropolitan Grill down the street. You're in construction obviously?" "Yup, its all I've ever done. Not my life's ambition or anything, but the pay is good so I cant complain." We continued the small talk for the ten minute walk to my house. I found out his name was Tim and he had recently moved to Calgary from Winnipeg where he grew up, and I told him about my passion for cooking and how I had gone to college for it and enjoyed it immensely. We got to my walkway and stopped. I was quite proud of my "house". Ok well it was really a duplex, but it was big and sturdy, not like a lot of the other residences around here and I kept it well maintained. We walked up to the door, which was on the side of the building and I unlocked it and proceeded in, Tim following close behind me. Very close, I could feel his breath on my neck. The duplex was a two level affair, and there were separate entrances for both tenants so I rarely saw my neighbour, an elderly gentleman who for the most part stayed inside and read all day. The first floor held my kitchen and living room, and a half bathroom as well as a storage/laundry room, while the second floor had two bedrooms and the main bathroom. My bedroom was the larger of the two and I kept a spare bedroom for any friends I may have over. I was a compulsive neat freak and I was happy to say that the house was spotless and organized. Tim whistled after I turned on the light. "Nice place dude, I'm impressed. A hell of a lot nicer then the dump of an apartment I live in." I chuckled "Yeah, this place was a hell of a find, I love it. Want something to eat or drink? I'm making myself a sandwich either way." Tim nodded an affirmative and I gestured for him to follow me into the kitchen where I set about making a quick grilled cheese sandwich for both of us. Tim leaned against the wall and watched me work quietly, and I felt myself blushing under his scrutiny. "There's pop and beer in the fridge, grab yourself a drink if you'd like." I said over my shoulder, idly flipping the sandwich's over in the pan with a flick of my wrist. I heard the fridge door open and looked back as Tim popped open a can of coke. He took a long sip and sighed contentedly. "You look pretty comfortable in the kitchen, you must really like it." He stated. "I do, its my favourite place to be, and I haven't gotten tired of it yet!" I smiled at him as I said this and saw him blush a little. I tossed him a sandwich and put the dishes in the sink, to be dealt with later. We ate in silence then when we were both finished I led him upstairs. "Bathrooms on the left, spare bedroom is on the right. My room is the door straight ahead, feel free to have a shower or something before heading to bed, I for one am crashing right away." "Thanks a lot for this man, I really appreciate it." The next thing I knew Tim had walked up and wrapped his arms around me in a hug. Now, there are a thousand types of hugs you can give someone, and they all mean different things. This was a careful hug, very "bro love" and absolutely nothing more, and he was very very careful for it to go no further then that on his part. I was startled for a moment, then returned the hug. I felt my neck touch his, felt the slight stubble there, and the heat coming off him, then I was touching his back, I smelt the sawdust and sweat smell more acutely now, and I caught the faintest hint of his shampoo. I don't know how long the hug lasted, but I wanted it to be forever. He pulled away and gave me the most dashing smile I had ever seen, before walking up to the spare bedroom doorway and strolling in like he owned the place, gently closing the door behind him. I stood there frozen in the hallway for almost a full minute before numbly walking to my door and going inside, shutting it firmly behind me. My mind going a thousand different directions at once, most of which revolved around WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! I normally wasn't this affected by a pretty face, I could talk to the hottest boys and act like I had a chance, but when Tim touched me I felt like I had been shocked and I could barley muster the will to speak around him. I sighed and ripped my shirt and pants off, throwing them into the hamper beside my door. I leapt onto my king sized bed and lay there facedown in nothing but my boxers. I hadn't been laid in months, and my last actual relationship had ended over two years ago, and yet I had the best looking boy in the city probably near naked in the next room in a different bed. I never had time to go out anymore, and I barley ever saw my friends, let alone managed to get too my usual hunting grounds for a quick fuck, in fact that last time was when we had hired that bartender. I groaned quietly, the only time I got any was when I HIRED the damn guy. My life was somewhat depressing, and I had probably invited a straight guy into my damn house to spend the night. These thoughts continued to bounce around my mind until I drifted off into a restless sleep. I awoke the next morning to my alarm blaring at eight am. I sighed and crawled out of my bed and opened my bedroom door still in my boxers. I stopped dead in the hallway, the events of the previous night coming back to me, and I quickly looked towards the spare bedroom door to see that it was open and the bed was made. I walked in and looked around, Tim was no where in sight. There was a note on the pillow which I picked up. Thank you so much for letting me stay, I REALLY appreciate it, and thanks for dinner too. I have to be at work at 6am this morning so I'll be gone by the time you read this, hope I can see you sometime soon! -Tim He hoped he could see me soon? I certainly wouldn't mind that. I put the note back on the pillow and walked into the bathroom. I noticed that the mat was wet and realized Tim must have had a shower. I stepped in and turned the water on as hot as possible, the first jet of water to hit me was icy cold, as it was everyday, and it shocked my fully awake. As I stood under the rapidly heating water, I realized that not hours before, Tim had probably stood here naked, and I felt myself growing hard just thinking about the warmth of his skin and the smell of HIM. My hand snaked down my torso and my semi quickly turned into a raging hard on. I closed my eyes and began pumping myself closer and closer to climax, just imagining having him under the jet of steamy water with me, our wet skin sliding over one and others. Not five minutes later I was spraying the walls with cum and gasping out loud. I leaned back against the shower wall and let my breathing return to normal before I soaped up and did everything that needed to be done in the shower. Forty five minutes later I was again walking down the street towards work, I had to work the lunch shift today, and as I passed the construction sight I peered around for Tim, but he was no where in sight, which made my spirits fall a little. I got to the kitchen at nine and quickly dressed in, before going about the preparations required. We weren't really a lunch place so there wasn't much to do, and I would only have Oliver helping me today. Once all was said and done I stepped outside for a quick smoke before we opened for service. I met Oliver in the usual spot that we all smoked and we chatted amiably for a bit before heading inside. We had an unusually quiet lunch service, and me and Oliver were both incredibly bored, so when the waitress came back into the kitchen and said someone had asked to see me I was grateful for the excuse to escape. I strolled into the front of the restaurant and out onto the patio where Felicia had told me the gentleman was waiting. My eyes practically jumped out of their sockets when I saw Tim sitting at a table in the corner by himself. I tried to appear nonchalant as I walked over and pulled out the other chair and sat down with him. He looked up and grinned. "Foods great here, my compliments to the chef." I blushed and mumbled my thanks. Finally I managed to get blurt out "What are you doing here? I didn't expect to ever see you again!" I instantly regretted my words, I could see that he had taken them exactly like they sounded and it had hurt him. "I... um... I got off work early and I figured the least I could do was bring you some business and... Sorry I'll go then." Mentally kicking myself I quickly said "NO! Sorry that sounded horrible. I really liked talking to you, you're an awesome guy and I loved spending time with you. Its just I didn't expect to see you again so soon! Let alone talk to you again." He perked up a little at this and smiled at me. "Yeah well, I liked talking to you too, you're a cool guy." "Hey, why don't I make up for that stupid comment. I'm cooking something awesome tonight for dinner and my friend cant come anymore, did you want to come instead?" "Sure! That sounds great, what are you making?" "It's a surprise, be at my place at 6 and you'll find out, and don't worry about your lunch, I'll comp it." We exchanged small talk for a few more minutes then Tim left to go home and shower before he had to be at my house later. I stood and headed back to the kitchen, but was accosted by Felicia before I got there. "Soooo... whos that?" "He's... Tim. Just a guy." "Yeah. Right. And the total lie about you having a friend over for supper? That was just for that guy?" I shot her a glare. "How the hell would you know!" "We talked Saturday, you said you weren't doing anything today. So whats this `awesome' dinner your making?" I glared at her harder. Then realized something. "Fuck, I have to leave early today, I need to think of something to cook!" There will be more, email matt-k-d@hotmail.com with comments or questions.