Discoveries Of A Young Man Pt 02

Authors note: This is the second part of my story about Bran. Should be said that this is a slower burn type of story. Hope you enjoy it regardless and vote 5 stars!

Feedback is appreciated, as I have lots to learn. When it comes to hate comments, it takes you longer to write them then it takes for me to delete them.

*

After the revelations about myself from the prior week, I was filled with something I'd felt very little of before. Motivation. Inspiration. Aspiration. I had so far in my young life just existed. Floated. I got decent at most things, but never really excelled in anything. I wonder how this 'new me' had come to exist. Was it all because of Mel? Or perhaps it was that I had discovered myself to be bolder than I'd given myself credit for before. It was almost a thrill to push my own boundaries like that. To aspire to be more.

Instead of slacking through the weekend, half-assing my assignments, half-assing the gym, and just staying put, I truly went for it. I wanted to be better. I started my Saturday with signing up for both climbing classes and boxing classes. The lifting session after was also one of my most intense, though not my heaviest one (I was tired as shit).

I spent the remainder of the Saturday at the student library, working with the assignment. It was from one of my economics classes. It was weird how it took forever before when I only worked an hour at a time. But now that I made an effort, and spent some more time on it, I wrapped it up pretty easily.

When I got back Trent even poked fun at me for being out all day, staying busy. As I stepped through the door, I was greeted with a football being tossed at me. I stumbled but managed to grab it.

"I guess I'm not the only horse horsing around," he said, smirking.

"Shut up, Trent," I said, tossing the Tommy-Wiseau-ball awkwardly back to him. I never played quarterback, and I was never good with the ball anyhow.

Sunday I started climbing. I got my ass handed to me by kids way younger than me. At least that was what it felt like, as they scaled some of the more advanced walls, while I struggled my way up the very basic ones. But hey, I challenged myself. But I would lie if I said I wasn't happy anyone I knew saw me. With practice, maybe I'll school the kids right back. What I didn't account for, however, was how sore I would become throughout the day, and probably Monday too.

What more, Mel even texted me. She told me the car was not fixed yet and asked if I could perhaps pick her up at her house the next day! I said yes as fast as I could.

*

I woke up the next morning, immediately took care of my morning wood, and got ready to attack the day.

As a person who 'waits' for the week, I was actually really excited to get the week started. I was up early and before I knew it, I was lightly jogging to my car and jumped in just in time to get a text from Mel.

"Good morning. Hope the weekend-waiting went well. I'll be waiting for you," she wrote.

My heart rate started to increase. Immediately I felt the teasing. Even if she didn't mean it that way, that's how I took it. I quickly wrote back that I would be there.

I went to work out, worked on college shit and when afternoon came around, I hurried to my car and sped off towards Mel's.

A few minutes later I was there. It was not the longest drive, as I think David, Mels husband, worked as some sort of maintenance man at the campus, thus they lived not too far away. To be honest, I didn't really remember, or give a shit about David. As I pulled up, I saw her lock her front door and walk down the driveway, just in time for when I pulled up. I saw her car in the driveway too, meaning her husband was at home.

"Mornin'," I said. "You quit biking?"

She grinned at me. Man, Mel had a nice smile!

"Good morning to you too, and good afternoon too. You have big comfortable seats," she replied coyly.

I smiled back. She got into the passenger side. New sweats today. Black ones. She sniffed the air when she got in.

"Is that cologne?" she asked half-mocking. I blushed.

When I showered after working out, I borrowed a bit of Trent's cologne. He wouldn't mind, and I figured he had an alright taste.

"Aw, don't be embarrassed, didn't mean it like that. I like it," she said. I almost choked. My mood was pretty good, but it got to a whole new level getting complimented. I felt my pulse increase and my redness increase even more. But she went on, like nothing at all.

"Had a nice weekend?" She asked.

"Actually, yeah," and then I went on to talk about how I signed up for new classes and how I spent my Saturday mostly at the library. I was slightly worried I'd bore her to tears, but she actually seemed to listen.

"My, my, boxing eh, big boy?" she teased and squeezed my right overarm. My muscles cramped at her squeeze.

"You definitely work out tho," she muttered.

"Ouch! Sorry, I'm a bit sore. I haven't really started yet. Boxing."

"Maybe you can be a big boy and protect old women like myself," Mel joked.

"Come on, Mel, you're not old, I told you."

"You're delusional. Guess how old I am," she said, demanding me to guess. I should've known this was most likely a trap. But I walked right into it regardless.

"I would say 35. Maybe 38?" I said, trying to seem calm and collected, but instead, my brain was firing on cylinders, trying to work in high gear, though not quite up for the task.

"43. Not far off," she said.

"Really? I would never have guessed."

"So now you know I'm an old hag."

"You're still hot, I would--" I muttered then trailed off, realizing what the fuck I was saying. Jesus christ.

I could tell Mel was somewhat stunned, but she recovered quickly. She sat upright and stared out ahead. But before she said anything, I tried to steer the conversation away.

"So how was your weekend then?"

She turned to look out the passenger window. Damn it. I got scared and ruined the moment. Mel obviously likes the compliments, so why would I be a dick and start talking about something that obviously brought tension to her life?

"It was fine," she replied.

"David won his poker?"

"Of course not," she said and looked back at me. "I think a drunk donkey would play better."

I barked out laughing. I didn't expect that from her. She joined in too.

"Sorry, it just can be a bit frustrating. Don't tell anyone," she said.

I moved my finger and thumb across my lips, mimicking zipping my mouth.

"Don't worry, I got your back. It's important to vent, you know," I said. Mel rubbed at my shoulder and squeezed it slightly. I screamed inside my head, but remained calm.

"Thanks. David is a nice man... I mean, he provides for the family, you know," she said, but she didn't really sound like she believed that herself. Almost like she was convincing herself more than me.

"Don't you both?" I asked.

"Yeah well... My salary more or less goes to my daughter's college fund. David doesn't really care about that, so yeah."

"Wow, I didn't know! That's quite admirable. What's your kid's name, then?" I asked, genuinely impressed. The compliment seemed to make her lighten up quite a bit, as she more or less beamed.

"My oldest's name is Hope, actually. And she's 18, so she's barely a kid to you, mister," she scolded me cheerfully. "And Maia is 17 next spring."

The rest of the drive was more or less chit-chat about her kids, college, and before we knew it we pulled into the parking lot. She went and got her trolly, I went and got mine. Working separately got me time to calm down, regroup and settle my mind. Mel was getting more comfortable around me, and nothing made me more happy. She felt safe enough to push and shove at me, talk about her kids. It was truly a bliss. And I was guaranteed to talk to her more later when I was driving her home.

The day went as any other day. At the start of each shift, we had to work around a bunch of clerks, interns and office people, but as the day progressed, the herd always thinned out until it was just the two janitors left. I did my floor as fast as I could, without being too sloppy. I sat on a chair outside the changing room, tying my shoes, when Mel walked up next to me and fiddled with the lock. We always kept the door locked, as personal belongings were kept there while we worked.

I glanced up at her. It struck me how tall she was. I knew taller than me. But now Mel practically stood over me, only a foot away. It was quite frankly somewhat daunting. I could even draw in her scent. It was a good scent, I can tell you that. It was a mix of cozy motherly warmth, a grown woman's perfume and a hint of sweat. It was almost intoxicating.

"Be out in a minute," she said and hurried in, oblivious to my daydreaming.

I scuffled back and forth waiting for her, contemplating how to talk to her, what and what about. I also wanted her to touch me again. Weird thing to say, but here I was. Everytime she did, my whole body felt like it was floating. I tried to think of topics relating to her physical therapy, or her hairdresser background, but I didn't know how to shoehorn that into a conversation. I wanted it to be genuine, or else it would just be awkward and weird. Maybe --

My thoughts were interrupted as she reemerged from the wardrobe.

"How was your day? Boys upstairs made a mess?" I asked.

"Nothing much. No carpets today. I'm going to tell the management they are going to stop throwing their garbage on the floor, or there's trouble. How about you?" she said. We started walking out into the parking lot.

"It was alright. Still a bit sore, though, but it was fine. I survived," I said.

"Looks like you did," she said and got into the car.

Even though I yearned for more inadvertent teasing, I didn't try to push it. She had already given me plenty, and I also wanted our relationship to be normal. Juuust in case, I was an idiot who read too much into things, or pushed things too far. So the drive back to hers went in some silence, with some small talk, but we both were kind of tired anyhow. I asked her how long she had worked as a janitor.

"Fifteen years. Certainly not the career I imagined, but a job is a job I guess," she replied.

Before that, she apparently worked as a hairdresser with her mom but got tired of it.

*

Tuesday I spent working on more college stuff, and the evening I spent climbing and then finally my first boxing class. I was so fucking happy it was fitness boxing and not actual sparring.

The female instructor, Freya, showed me how to throw jabs, crosses, and hooks, the basics. It felt so awkward. If I was getting schooled in climbing, in boxing I would actually get beat up. Kids half my size would no doubt toss me all over the place, no problem.

It was uplifting, however, to hear from Freya that I seemed to have some natural talent, as my punches weren't totally hopeless. And Freya was pretty buff and looked like she knew what she was talking about, so I figured she knew her stuff.

When training in a circle with a bunch of other people, Frank, the male instructor also seemed to have some faith in me. He especially liked my cross, I guess. For my own part, I struggled to remember to not call it 'my right jab', which made the other kids laugh a bit.

"Great work, guys. See you Thursday,"

As I dried my hair and got my clothes, I saw several messages and an unanswered call. They were all from Mel. Normally I'd call, but I figured I'd take it in the car, in case it was something best not discussed in public. I was worried I'd step out of line on Friday and Monday morning. Yep, I was probably fired. HR was probably gonna have their way with my ass any day now. I had checked her out all day and said some things that probably could be deemed as harassment.

I quickly put my clothes on, picked up the phone, and headed out. I read the messages while I made my way over to my SUV.

"Do you have a minute?"

"Call me when you are able."

"Sorry to bother you, but I need to talk about Wednesday."

"When you see this, call."

There also were two unanswered calls. It seemed urgent. I got in my car and called her back. A few beeps later and she picked up.

"Hi, I was working out and they didn't allow--"

"Finally," Mel said through the phone, sounding a bit annoyed. I hoped it wasn't for me. But I braced myself for the onslaught to come.

"Listen, I can't catch a ride with you on Wednesday. It's..." she began, and sounded like she contemplated her thought for a bit. "It's not smart. David... no I mean, I think I'll just grab the bike. But thanks for putting it on the table."

"Hold on, what?" I asked, trying to catch up. Here I was, ready to be yelled at. Turns out, I wasn't the problem! Or at least not solely.

"Sorry. I was just telling you that I don't need to catch a ride tomorrow," Mel said.

I scratched my head, trying to find a way around this.

"Can't you just bicycle around the block and then I'll pick you up? All the construction you know."

It was a far reaching suggestion. She probably wouldn't save any time this way, but I figured why not suggest it. Mel didn't reply right away. I gave her a moment to think.

"That... that could work. I can't explain it, but I liked the safety of your car," she admitted.

"She feels safe in my car?!?!?" I thought as she spoke.

"Maybe it is those big comfy seats you got," she added. I heard her chuckle a bit, which made me smile. Then she turned her voice into a whisper.

"It will be our secret," she whispered and returned to normal. "It was not too popular here to be dropped off like that. It'll be nice to only have to bike twice a week."

"Yeah, absolutely. Like I said, I watch your back," I said, stumbling a bit.

"I know you do. Talk to you later," she said and hung up.

Did she just say that? Did she know how much I gawked at her? Or maybe it was because I said the same thing last time we spoke. Yeah, probably. I turned on the engine and drove home.

*

The next morning, Mel gave me the corner she would go to, and voila, she was back in my car again. We exchanged good mornings and were on our way to work.

"So how was your workout yesterday?" Mel asked. She sounded in a good mood today.

"It was alright. I finally began boxing."

"Did you beat anyone up?"

"Erh, I think I might have a chance against either the smallest kid in there, who is like 9, or the 80-year-old lady."

"Don't underestimate that old lady, she might kick your ass!" Mel said, laughing lightly.

She always seemed so tired on the phone, or whenever I dropped her off at home. Maybe even a bit downbeat. But at the start of almost every day, Mel seemed to be in a good mood, today included.

"So you're sore then? I don't get to squeeze your arms?" she teased. A bit further than yesterday. I felt something start to swell. Did she want to touch my arms?

"Oh, you can touch me anytime you want. I'll endure," I said teasingly, trying to push a bit too.

The car went silent for a few moments. I gulped. I didn't dare look at her, but I could feel her eyes on me. I prayed to god that I finally hadn't gone too far.

"Don't worry, I won't torture you," she said, smiling, looking ahead again. I breathed a sigh of relief. Not in trouble. Not yet.

"Thanks, cuz' I am actually pretty sore."

"In physical therapy, we learned that putting yourself in cold water, then hot water, should help with recovery. At least with professional athletes."

"I've heard of it. I prefer warm water, however," I said.

"Most people do."

We finally arrived at work. Like all mornings, there was a routine. Get changed in the wardrobe, go get your trolly ready. Then push your trolly to your section and get to work. This Wednesday was no different in that regard. Except now I walked around with a constant semi, threatening to become a full.

But today I was smart. I wore sports boxers. Boxers made out of spandex. Truth be told, they were always the more comfortable option. However, I chose them for the benefit of keeping my bulge from becoming too... bulgy. It kept my junk more in place. Or at least a little bit.

It was over halfway through the day, and I was almost done. It was weird. I only had one office left, and an hour left on the clock.

"Turns out the boys upstairs didn't like to get yelled at, so there was almost nothing to be done," Mel said from behind me, having just entered the small office I was in. I had been busy vacuuming the window frame and the curtains and hadn't heard her enter. She might've even been here a few minutes already because she didn't say anything until I turned off the vacuum.

I jumped a little, being in my own world, but calmed when I saw her.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" Mel asked, cocking her head..

"Nah, just... in my own world, ya know."

"How's the soreness? It sure seemed like all that waiting during the weekend turned into some training camp, huh?".

"I guess it's like they say, you get motivated by the people you surround yourself with," I quipped.

She smiled at that, catching what I implied. Mel moved over to the desk and leaned back on the edge of it. I couldn't help notice how her ass squished out as she let her weight against the table. I caught myself staring.

"So you gonna head on out? I could borrow you my car," I asked. It wasn't a very good suggestion, not for my part at least. I was so stupid sometimes. Of course, she wouldn't just yank my car.

I'd of course prefer if she stayed, but a lot of what I'd prefer was probably not wise to say out loud.

"Nah. I figured I'd help you out again. You being sore and all.," she said, grinning at me, and added "Need your arms good and healthy, so you can drive me home, after all."

"Sounds great. I'm almost done, however. I just worked myself down the corridor in the opposite direction today. Spice things up. But thanks anyway," I replied, coiling in the vacuum cord.

"Oh, I thought I'd help you a bit in another way," she said, giving me a half-smile. I couldn't help but give a small groan. A small shudder went through my body. I hoped my spandex boxers did their job.

Did she really just say that? My colleague? Mother of two children?

"It has been a while," she said and moved closer. "I took those physical therapy courses in my 20s. I'll do your back and arms."

Oh right. Yeah. I forgot about that. But I was a beggar, not a chooser, so I was thrilled. I did love massages, the few that I'd got in my life when I did sports. And from a hot cougar such as Mel, I was more than ready to get kneaded like dough. She motioned for me to sit on an office chair.

"You said you were sore the last few days, and you said you wouldn't mind volunteering, so I figured why not help out my aching coworker. You should probably sit with your chest against the back of the chair, by the way. Yes, just so."

I groaned slightly as I rearranged the seating situation. Both from actually aching, because I was after all sore as fuck, but also from anticipation. Like I said, a massage is a massage, and if she did physical therapy for a bit, she probably knew her business. And thirdly, it was another level of her getting more comfortable around him, which felt good regardless of anything.

I was almost trembling with anticipation. No fuck that, it was not almost. I was downright shaking. I felt her presence behind me, and finally her long, soft fingers brushed against my shoulders. Mel slightly pressured with her thumbs around my traps and my lats. I groaned, feeling my soreness. She pressed a bit harder with her fingers in the same areas, causing me some discomfort. But the good kind of discomfort. With the sore aching, was also the relief of tension.

"Jesus, you're shaking already. You should stretch out more," Mel said from behind me, starting to increase pressure as she worked over my back with more of her hands and fingers.