Dirty Laundry

It was a damp Sunday in Seattle Washington. Big bushy clouds rolled down the Olympic mountains periodically dousing the city with a crisp rain before allowing the sun to provide a brief respite to the urban citizens, who paid little mind to the drizzle. This Sunday was like any Sunday for Johannes, who preferred to run his life on the rigid side of the phrase "rigid flexibility". He was sitting on a bench in the back of a laundromat hunched over his laptop so that his strained eyes could see the brightly colored code against the dark background of his text editor. Of course, no one expected him to work on the weekends, least of all his boss, but he found that even just a few hours of preparatory work put him leagues ahead of his colleagues in the competitive Seattle tech scene.

Johannes looked up from his work to think through a particularly vexing line or two of code that he wanted to simplify. His weary eyes peered out of the glass of the front of the laundromat to find a man and a woman walking in, each holding a bag of laundry. The man adjusted his grip on the laundry bag and opened the door for what appeared to be his girlfriend, allowing her to pause briefly in the doorway to mop a layer of rain from her forehead. Her fingers pushed into her lustrous blonde hair, which she fluffed up, reveling just a little in the feeling of it.

After she walked through the door, the man sauntered through, and pushed the dark, wet locks of hair out of his face. His brown eyes were bright, and an almost imperceptible smile of satisfaction rested at the corners of his mouth. He briefly scanned the room before his eyes caught Johannes' in the back of the room. His eyes lingered until Johannes dropped his gaze hurriedly back to his code. He readjusted his grip on his laundry bag and followed his girlfriend to the washing machine she'd chosen.

Johannes kept his eyes on his computer as he felt his heart flutter a little and heat rise in his cheeks. He wrote a line of code, then deleted it. Wrote it, deleted it again. His fingers worked busily at writing a program that his mind had since abandoned. He shifted uncomfortably on his bench as he worked. He crossed on leg, and rested his computer on it, then switched legs. Finally, he gave up on his code and looked back up. The laundromat was full of people, but Johannes only saw two of them. As he peered sheepishly over his laptop, he watched the couple as they loaded up two washing machines. The woman struggled a little bit, putting her whole body into each of her movements. Over the machines, Johannes could only see her head and shoulders, but the loose blonde strands of her messy bun bobbed and swung with every armful of towels that she threw into the washer. Her boyfriend, by contrast, moved effortlessly. Since he wore a tight tank top, Johannes could see that he was well-toned. As he grabbed armfuls of laundry, the tendons in his shoulders contracted and relaxed again as he tossed them into the washer.

They finished loading their laundry, put their empty bags on top of the washers they had claimed, and floated over to the side of the laundromat to wait. They, unlike Johannes, did not seem to mind being unoccupied and chatted to each other idly as the machine did its work. Now Johannes had an uninterrupted view of the pair. The man put his arm around his girlfriend's shoulder, and she leaned into him. His hand on her far shoulder made just the slightest indentation in her soft flesh. He must have said something funny, because she laughed with a rich alto voice and pushed her hand against his chest. She might as well have been touching a marble statue, because his skin showed no movement at all besides the corners of his mouth, which pulled into a wide smile as he watched her laugh at his joke. He seemed totally absorbed in the sound.

Somewhat indulgently, Johannes imagined what the man must have been feeling in the moment. His girlfriend's skin looked so smooth; he imagined what it must feel like to hold her against him. She was probably warm too, and since she wasn't totally dry from the rain, his hand would probably glide right over her. And her voice! Her laughter sounded more like a song than a sound. He just wanted to close his eyes and listen to her, but to close his eyes would be to miss the view. He imagined what the man must have felt with the deep vibration of her laughter resonating in his stomach the way the body of a guitar also hums the pitch given to it by the strings.

Against his will, he found himself ruminating on the body of that guitar. He had been with a few women before, so he could imagine what the girl felt like, but the man? His shoulders and arms were toned, and his tank top clung to the outline of his strong chest. His midriff was a little wider than Johannes'. What would it feel like to be pressed into the curve of his side the way his girlfriend was?

The couple got up. The woman went to go move their laundry from the washer to the dryer, and the man began to walk towards Johannes. Another moment of eye-contact tied Johannes' stomach in knots and sent him scrambling back to his long-forgotten code. The man sat down on the bench next to Johannes just as Johannes thought of something to hurriedly type. "Hey," he said. Johannes choked out the word "hello" and briefly looked at the man before looking away again. He wrote an unintelligible line of code.

"What are you working on?"

"Oh. It's just a program for work."

"Are you some kind of coder?"

"Sort of. I actually work at an engineering firm, but they need someone who..." Johannes looked the man in the face. He could immediately see that the man had no technical background and would have no clue what he was talking about if he tried to explain, but something about those deep brown eyes made Johannes feel like he absolutely had to fill the silence. "...you know. Well, I guess, someone who codes."

The man's warm smile told Johannes that he had read every thought Johannes had tripped over to construct that sentence. "So, uh, what do you do?" Johannes asked, desperate to get the attention off him.

"Medical equipment," he said. "A buddy and I sell to a lot of the hospitals out in the 'burbs." His speech was slow and relaxed, and he spoke in only a slightly lower register than his girlfriend. He didn't stutter or trip over his words. He and Johannes exchanged pleasantries, but Johannes didn't dare make eye contact with him for more than a millisecond. They both turned to face the rest of the laundromat as a lull formed in the conversation. Johannes considered going back to his code.

"Do you think she would look better brunette?" the man asked suddenly. Johannes started a bit. "Sorry, the blonde lady over there is my girlfriend, Felicity. Her hair is actually naturally dark, but she dyes it. Do you think she would look better brunette?" Johannes watched her as she pushed a cart full of wet clothes over to the dryers. At the roots of her hair, he noticed a dark patch that he hadn't before. His gaze followed the root of her hair down the crown of her head to the messy bun that was barely contained by a hair claw. His eyes traced across her jawline back to her face, over which hung a few blonde strands. He glanced over at the man again to find him watching Johannes expectantly.

"Um. Does she like it better the way that it is? I mean, it looks good like it is now. Uh. What do you think?" The question made him uncomfortable. The man had a playful look in his eye, or was Johannes imagining it?

"Logan!" The woman bounced over to the bench they were sitting at. "I'm going to go next door to get coffee, do you want anything?" She maintained direct eye contact with her boyfriend and didn't look at Johannes.

"I'll go with you actually." He turned to Johannes. "Do you want to come?" Felicity and Logan both looked at Johannes, waiting for his answer. He felt, or imagined, the weight of both of their eyes on him. He stammered something barely intelligible about needing to save money and the couple walked out of the laundromat, hugging the side of the building to stay out of the rain.

When they were out of sight, Johannes took a deep, disappointed breath and opened his laptop back up. With the beautiful couple no longer in his space, it was much easier for him to focus on his task. He didn't even notice Logan hold the door open for Felicity to come back in a few minutes later. He was totally engrossed in his work when Logan again sat next to him on the bench.

"You live around here?" Johannes looked up suddenly to see Logan sipping a drink. Felicity was sitting on the other side of the laundromat, looking at her phone.

"Yeah, just a few blocks away in the apartments on Alabama St. What about you?"

"Felicity and I own a townhome about a block away from here." Johannes looked out the window. All around were gorgeous, three-story townhomes, all painted in different pastels. Ivy climbed up some of them, and others had small gardens in the front. The whole neighborhood was gorgeous, really.

"I love the houses around here! I wish I had space to plant something too. What's the upkeep like on your place? I would love to live here more permanently." Logan chatted about property values and insurance and gardening and Johannes began to warm up to him. As they talked, he became more comfortable, and he put away his laptop. After a while, Felicity got up and began to fold their now-dry laundry. Logan made no effort to get up, but instead watched her as he talked to Johannes. Johannes began to watch her too, if only to avoid making the mistake of looking into Logan's intense eyes again.

"I love watching her. I guess it's something in the way she moves." Logan said after a moment of silence. There was real adoration in his voice. Johannes looked over at Logan and was treated to a look full of warmth and affection, only directed at someone else. Johannes felt a little like a voyeur.

"You're a lucky guy for sure," Johannes said after a moment. Felicity pulled up a pair of panties to her waist to flatten them out before folding them in half and stacking them neatly with the others. Next was a pair of boxers. As she pulled them against her hips, Johannes couldn't help but imagine what she'd look like wearing only a loose t-shirt and a pair of Logan's boxers. Her hair would be down and maybe a little ruffled. The morning sun would be on her face with a post-coital glow as she brought breakfast from the kitchen into the bedroom for Logan.

"Do you want to fuck her?" The voice that spoke the vulgar words was calm and even. Logan didn't turn his head to look at Johannes, but kept watching Felicity. Johannes' mouth dropped open as he turned to stare at Logan. "Um. Excuse me?" Johannes managed to get out. "More into guys then? Or can't decide?" With this question, he turned and looked directly through Johannes. There was laughter on Logan's voice that didn't quite break into a full chuckle.

"I..." Johannes had been with a few women before, but never a man. Of course, no one, man or woman, had ever been this forward with him. As taken aback by the question as he was, he couldn't bring himself to lie and say that he didn't want to fuck Logan's girlfriend. And looking into those unending brown eyes, he couldn't quite say that he didn't want to fuck Logan either. He should have said no. Johannes never did anything like this, and it certainly wasn't in his Sunday routine. "I... I've never done anything like this before."

Logan could barely hold back his smile. The edges of his eyes crinkled as he held Johannes captive in his gaze. Finally, mercifully, he broke the stare and turned to reach into his pocket. He pulled out a little scrap of paper and handed it to Johannes. "Why don't you give us a call on Tuesday? We can give you a tour of the townhouse and I'll finally have an excuse to get out some of the nice Moscato I've been saving."

He pressed the piece of paper into Johannes' hand, letting his warm touch linger for just a moment longer than it needed to. After one final piercing look at Johannes, Logan got up and went to help Felicity with the folding. Was Johannes imagining it or was Felicity stealing glances at him? Soon enough, they finished and left the way they had come.

Johannes' own clothes had been bone dry, sitting in a motionless dryer for almost 30 minutes. He looked at the scrap of paper in his hand. A phone number was written in its center. Below it were two names. Logan's name was written in a tight cursive, the same handwriting that had written the phone number. Felicity's name was written in a professional print with a beautiful curvy "y" at the end. Johannes delicately folded the piece of paper in half to put it in his pocket before he got up to fold his laundry.

Johannes crammed some condoms into his pocket and walked the few blocks past the laundromat to the address that Logan had given him over the phone. It really wasn't very far at all. He had thought about bringing a bottle of wine, but then he remembered the Moscato that Logan had offered in the laundromat. As it was, he showed up at their door empty handed, but with his pockets full of profanity. He wore a grey button up with a black tie and a clean pair of dark-washed jeans.

The townhouse was three-stories high, painted a powder blue on the front. Every window was adorned with a planter from which grew flowers of every color in the rainbow. The wood was a little old, and the paint was flaking off in parts, making the house look very lived-in. There was no doorbell, so Johannes gave a loud policeman knock on the front door. He had no idea what to expect.

Logan opened the door wearing an impossibly tight tank top and a pair of black sweatpants. Dark chest hair danced underneath a very pronounced collarbone, leading up to a muscular neck and a sharp jawline. Logan smiled when he saw Johannes. "Come on in! And leave your shoes at the door if you don't mind." The inside of the townhouse was warm and inviting. The first floor was an entryway with a sitting area. Against one wall there was a bookshelf filled with disorganized books. At a glance, Johannes saw Jane Austen next to Tom Clancy. Trinkets and curiosities lined every unoccupied horizontal surface. Felicity and Logan were certainly well-travelled, or at least they liked to give the impression they were. There was a wooden coffee table nestled between a couch and two armchairs. On the table were three empty wine glasses. Johannes took a deep breath.

"Wait here just one second, and make yourself comfortable," Logan said as he climbed a black metal spiral staircase to the kitchen on the second floor. He came back holding a chilled bottle of wine, which he poured into two of the three glasses. Johannes perched on the couch and sipped from his glass. Logan draped himself onto the other arm of the couch, without a care in the world.

"Where's Felicity?" Johannes asked. "Not home from work yet." Johannes wondered why he hadn't asked what her job was before, and whether it was even relevant to ask now. By way of making conversation, he asked, and Logan surely answered, but Johannes was too nervous to remember what he said. He started to sip his wine more aggressively.

After his second glass, Johannes began to loosen up a little. He noticed that as they were chatting, Logan had slowly scooted closer and closer to his side of the couch, but he didn't mind so much. They talked about the trips that Logan and Felicity took, and about the thrift shops where they found the rest of the trinkets strewn about. During a lull in conversation, Johannes picked at a rough spot on his thumbnail.

"Do you chew your nails?" Logan said, noticing Johannes' nervous tick. Johannes was embarrassed. "Yeah, it's a bad habit I know, but I can't get myself to stop doing it."

"Let me see," Logan said, closing the distance between them and grabbing Johannes' hand. Logan's touch was firm, but gentle. The skin on his hands was rough, but his nails were clean and well groomed. One by one, he brushed Johannes' fingers, examining his cuticles and the edges of his nails. It was as if he couldn't see without also feeling. "You're not as bad about it as Felicity. Every few weeks I nag her to go get hers done, just so that she won't tear up her fingers. You'd never believe it, but she can really be very high strung."

Even though he was done looking at Johannes' fingers, he held onto his hand and looked up at him. For a moment they were silent as they gazed into each other's eyes. Then there was the sound of a key threading into the lock on the front door. Johannes pulled back his hand as if he had been caught robbing the cookie jar. Felicity walked through the door in a pair of black slacks and a smart gray blazer. Her hair was in a tight ponytail with not a single strand out of place. She locked the door before turning to face the men in the room. Her eyes fell first to the three glasses of wine on the coffee table and then to Johannes. They locked eyes briefly and Felicity's cheeks burned a fiery red. Her eyes dropped to her shoes. When she looked up, she looked at Logan and she melted.

For a moment, Johannes felt as if he was invisible. As Logan looked at Felicity, his mischievous smile softened into warmth and affection. As she looked back at him, her shoulders seemed to roll back and her chest seemed to puff up, almost imperceptibly. Her wide eyes relaxed into a peaceful expression. Logan broke the silence.

"Felicity! Right on time. How was your day?"

"Not bad, my love."

"I'd love to hear all about it, and I'm sure Johannes would too." Logan was already pouring her a glass of wine.

She again looked at Johannes, then back to Logan. The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Maybe later. Right now, I think I should get cleaned up." The deep tones of her voice filled Johannes' head with honey. She walked over to where Logan was sitting on the couch and gave him a sweet peck on the lips. She took the glass out of his hand and began to climb the stairs. Just before she disappeared out of sight, she caught Johannes' eye with a playful smirk.

Johannes stared at the space where Felicity had been until Logan's hand turned his head to face him. He was closer now, and his eyes were half shut. His lips were parted. His fingertips brushed down from Johannes' jaw to his collarbone and finally to his shoulder, where he gently tugged Johannes in closer. Two and a half glasses of wine filled Johannes with confidence, and he placed his hand under Logan's ear pressed their lips together.

At first, Johannes was rigid, and his lips were closed. In no hurry, Logan planted a kiss on the side of Johannes' mouth, then underneath his bottom lip. Then he began to lightly suck on Johannes' lower lip until Johannes opened up and allowed him to probe into his mouth with his tongue. Logan tasted sweet, like the wine, and his scent filled Johannes' head.

Logan began to push Johannes back onto the couch. Johannes shuffled only a little awkwardly until he was laying down with Logan straddling him. He put his hands around Logan's waist as Logan knelt on top of him. Logan pulled on the knot of his tie and pulled it out of his collar. Johannes could look at nothing besides those chocolate brown eyes as Logan's hands worked to undo the first few buttons of Johannes' shirt. He involuntarily bucked his hips into Logan as his growing erection pushed against his jeans. Logan rubbed Johannes' chest slowly from his collarbone all the way down to his navel, before his fingers began to work on Johannes' belt.

With the belt finally discarded, Logan's hand slowly traced the outline of Johannes' member over his pants before finally gripping him. Logan leaned down and kissed Johannes strongly, penetrating his mouth with his tongue. Johannes writhed against Logan, their chests pressed together, as Logan stroked him. Suddenly, Logan got up and took Johannes' hand, pulling him to his feet. As Johannes got up, Logan reached under his hip to squeeze his ass, and pulled him into another kiss. "I think it's about time we made our way upstairs," Logan said.