Chapter 3 - The Shadow
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"Pause," Tito Jon was saying, his brow strained in concentration; "you...knew Aaron Rodriguez?"
"Is that his name? I guess I did." I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why...do you?"
"He's--uh...used to be coworkers with your Tita Rachael," he stammered. "Saw him a few times at the house." The thought of that horny old man Aaron around at Tito Jon's old place unseated me somewhat. Seemed it did for him as well.
He composed himself once more. "Next subject," he said, folding his hands like a prayer book. "You were using the building you were cleaning to hook up in?" He leaned in as he said it, like he was afraid to let the secret spill out into the mundane bubble of this crappy, retro-style diner.
I frowned at him, pointing my fork in his direction. "Man! I'm not even anywhere near the important part, and this is the thing you get caught at?"
He likewise pointed his butter knife at me, laden with cut-up burger guts. "Uh, yeah, because it now makes perfect sense why you got fired, Nathan!" I winced, but all I could offer him was a shrug.
"Kinda correct. I mean, I got fired because I got caught by the wrong security guard." Tito Jon rolled his eyes so hard I thought I could hear them.
"That's messed up, kid," he mumbled around his straw. "No wonder you asked for a job from me. I oughta not hire you as a precaution. You'll turn my restaurant into a...a hive of scum and villainy!"
"I won't, I promise!" I pleaded, my hands up in a show of fake submission. "As for the firing, let me get to that part, please. We're still like, months out. Tonnes of shit happened before that." Tito Jon nodded his assent, waved his knife at me, and sat back in rapt attention.
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"Josh. Are you sure you even like women?"
"Huh?"
He was sitting opposite me on the parking lot bench, and I leaned against my car in the work building's parking lot. I think Josh must've been on his break or something, because he had emerged from the building with two sodas. He had put one right in the palm of my hand with a wide smile.
In Ottawa, the seasons tended to stick around longer than their final deadline; summer and winter especially were guests that tended to overstay their welcome. And so the summer that was disguising itself as fall beat down on us from above, even in September.
Josh had taken off his dark dress shirt, and gave me a full view of his long, broad body, whether he'd intended to or not. I didn't want to stare. I really didn't. Scout's honour. I myself hadn't zipped up my jumpsuit yet, and so I just let sweat roll off me, drying in the heat. Out of uniform or any office of being anyone but ourselves, we soaked up the sun-blasted air. I felt luxuriously at ease.
"You heard me, man," I murmured around my bottle of Sprite. "Are you sure-sure you're into women?"
"Positive, dude," he replied, staring down into his bottle of Dr. Pepper. "I've always been."
"And yet you always choke. I dunno man. The evidence is there." He gave me some serious stank eye and I couldn't help but laugh. "Alright man, I'm just fucking with you. You know that."
He scratched his jaw, pondering the statement like it was a test question. Sweat beaded attractively on his forehead as he mulled it over. "Well...I dunno. Men...can be attractive too. I've never really thought about it too hard. I just thought...." Josh took another swig. "You think I should try dating men?"
Something in me jumped. I hoped it wasn't my libido. "Hey, all I'm saying is, maybe you haven't explored all your options. You should just...do what you think is right."
Josh frowned. "Man, I've been doing what I think is right, and it's gotten me nowhere, bro," he conceded. "This is why I'm asking you what you think is right. Cause you fuck weekly!" I tipped my bottle to him, and he did the same. "Seriously, bro! You're like...you must be some kinda stud!"
"It must be so," I said through a laugh and a sagely nod. Our laughs melted into the air until there was nothing left of them underneath the stare of the late-summer sun. They dissolved into a complacent quiet, punctuated by the sounds of distant traffic.
"You..." I continued, training my eyes into his; "don't wanna be like me, Josh." The phrase drifted out of me like it was being dragged, kicking and screaming. A curious look got into his warm, sleepy brown eyes. "You keep being you. Because you...is good."
"You are good."
"Aw, thanks, Josh."
"Oh, shut the hell up, Nate." I cackled. And Josh gave me a smile; quiet, and gap-toothed, and just fucking adorable. And I tucked it away like I was putting it into a drawer for myself later. God, Josh--you are so dumb. I couldn't be like this. "No, but," he was saying next; "I want to experience shit. And you do that all the time. So...I'm taking hints from you."
I stared hard at him, taking his features in. The openness in his eyes. This guy, who'd hardly breached his twenties, was hardly an adult, and he looked to me for advice. Man--I was hardly an adult. I could only tell him the singular thing I knew to be true.
"You can't be anything but yourself," I intoned with as much gravity as I could muster; "and if that doesn't work for someone, then you can pack up and move on."
"But I'm like...a wet blanket, man...."
"So find someone in need of a slightly damp cuddle." I shrugged, and Josh couldn't help but laugh. I'm glad that in spite of everything, I could make him laugh. "Alright man. It's been good, but I gotta clock in. Later?" He nodded his assent and fist-bumped me back, which turned into a handshake. "And for the record, Josh. You are not a wet blanket. You're a good dude."
He stared down at the pavement, his coy smile not quite creasing his eyes. "Thanks, Nate. I'll keep all that in mind." I reached over to pat him on the shoulder before leaving, and relinquishing myself to work.
Your messages with urlover-rory
urlover-rory: so no ones gunna b there? right?
nateynate1992: nah. i'll come meet u @ the door
don't be worried i got u
urlover-rory: alright man i trust u
It was no less than the third time I'd opened the message thread with today's man of the evening, willing him to appear. I was fucking horny; the little fuck had been teasing me during our whole time texting earlier. The pics he sent of his slim, tight body; his ivory white cheeks that closed around a rosy hole. Fuck, I could've shot hours ago. Come on, Rory....
I spotted him as he approached in a white sweater that was painfully obvious against his surroundings. 7 o'clock; evening had come, and it closed in around the city, providing the backdrop for our hookup. The guy looked excessively cagey as he came to the back door of the building.
"Hey," he said breathlessly, a smile tugging at his lips. Exactly as his pictures described: a slim young thing, not at all looking twenty-four like his profile claimed; likely younger. He was just a little bit shorter than me. A cute mop of shaggy brown hair; I just had to reach out and pat him. In spite of himself, he grinned and leaned into the touch. Fuck. Pliable thing.
"Come in," I said with a head motion to the door; "and relax." He sort of laughed at that, and he still sounded nervous as fuck, but he at least came inside with me. I let him walk in front, and I spied his skinny little white butt, protruding against his jeans. Oh, he was ready for this. I had no delusions of being a gentleman with this guy. I slid my hand down the little valley his cheeks made.