More Than You Know
Chapter 2
The next day I rose early, dressed in my best business suit, and drove quickly to the house the guy on the phone had described last night.
I put my car in park and gawked, perhaps a bit too obviously at the piece of work sitting in the shade on the covered porch.
The man who I assumed to be Michael was very good looking, just like the body I imagined had belonged to the voice on the phone. From his hunched over posture, i could tell that he had a nice build, not too skinny, with muscles in the right places. His golden hair shone in a solid ray of light that peeked through a crack in the porch roof.
How he didn’t catch me gaping at him I will never know, but I decided it would be a good idea to compose myself and start showing the house before he caught me being “sophisticated”. So, I fixed my hair in the rearview mirror, climbed out of my car and walked slowly up to talk to him.
“You must be Michael.” I said, feigning an uninterested tone even though the blood in my veins began to flow very quickly.
His attention was focused on a beetle scurrying madly away from his seemingly inescapable finger that kept narrowly missing squishing it on the cracked pavement.
Realizing that he must not have heard my approach, I cleared my throat and he looked up quickly, almost as if I had truly startled him.
He stood to be shorter than me, but a bit wider next to my narrow frame, and his body shape didn’t look any worse close up.
“I’m sorry about that, I just-not even two weeks ago moved here from Australia so I’m still a bit jet lagged. He blurted quickly as he grasped my hand tightly.
The heavily accented voice erased any doubt in my mind that this is the man with the gorgeous voice and I shook his hand vigorously.
“You play guitar?” I asked noting his callused fingers.
He quickly shoved his hands back into his pockets and nodded, blushing slightly.
I smiled and turned to unlock the door. Nothing the way he is standing that he is most definitely gay; and a bottom too.
I opened the door and we were greeted by the stale air of a modest house that has obviously been sitting unoccupied for at least a year.
“Just like I imagined it.” He mused, wandering from the entryway into the adjoining living room.
We walked around and examined the house from top to bottom before Michael decided he would place an offer. Only one problem, he didn’t want to leave yet because he wasn’t ready to return to the hotel room.
So I took advantage of the perfect opportunity and sat him down against a wall in the living room to strike up a “normal” conversation.
“So Michael, if you don’t mind my asking; why did you move here to America?”
He turned to me with searching eyes and his mouth pressed into a firm line before answering my question with one of his own.
“What are your views on gays?”
I smiled softly and told him that I have no problem with them because I would be considered hypocritical if I did, so that meant that I am gay.
“You could have just told me that in the first place.” He laughed slightly before continuing. “My boyfriend just passes away as a result of suicide a month ago and I decided that the only way I was gonna recover was if I started a whole new life from scratch.”
I painted a look of pity on my face, offered my condolences, and told him to call me if he ever wanted a listening ear.
We talked for what seemed like minutes, but were really hours until we finally noticed that the sun was going down and neither of us wanted to be stuck in this house after dark.
“Here Michael,” I said handing him a business card with my address on it, “give me a call or stop by whenever you get bored or if you ever need anything.”
He promised to keep in touch and we went our separate ways, but before I could even start my car, my phone rand with MICHAEL flashing on the caller ID.
“Yes Michael.” I asked not hiding the smile on my face.
“Hey, I don’t usually trust strangers, but, can I crash at your place tonight?”
I laughed slightly to myself, mostly out of excitement.
“Of course, but you’re gonna have to sleep on the couch.”
I put my car in park and gawked, perhaps a bit too obviously at the piece of work sitting in the shade on the covered porch.
The man who I assumed to be Michael was very good looking, just like the body I imagined had belonged to the voice on the phone. From his hunched over posture, i could tell that he had a nice build, not too skinny, with muscles in the right places. His golden hair shone in a solid ray of light that peeked through a crack in the porch roof.
How he didn’t catch me gaping at him I will never know, but I decided it would be a good idea to compose myself and start showing the house before he caught me being “sophisticated”. So, I fixed my hair in the rearview mirror, climbed out of my car and walked slowly up to talk to him.
“You must be Michael.” I said, feigning an uninterested tone even though the blood in my veins began to flow very quickly.
His attention was focused on a beetle scurrying madly away from his seemingly inescapable finger that kept narrowly missing squishing it on the cracked pavement.
Realizing that he must not have heard my approach, I cleared my throat and he looked up quickly, almost as if I had truly startled him.
He stood to be shorter than me, but a bit wider next to my narrow frame, and his body shape didn’t look any worse close up.
“I’m sorry about that, I just-not even two weeks ago moved here from Australia so I’m still a bit jet lagged. He blurted quickly as he grasped my hand tightly.
The heavily accented voice erased any doubt in my mind that this is the man with the gorgeous voice and I shook his hand vigorously.
“You play guitar?” I asked noting his callused fingers.
He quickly shoved his hands back into his pockets and nodded, blushing slightly.
I smiled and turned to unlock the door. Nothing the way he is standing that he is most definitely gay; and a bottom too.
I opened the door and we were greeted by the stale air of a modest house that has obviously been sitting unoccupied for at least a year.
“Just like I imagined it.” He mused, wandering from the entryway into the adjoining living room.
We walked around and examined the house from top to bottom before Michael decided he would place an offer. Only one problem, he didn’t want to leave yet because he wasn’t ready to return to the hotel room.
So I took advantage of the perfect opportunity and sat him down against a wall in the living room to strike up a “normal” conversation.
“So Michael, if you don’t mind my asking; why did you move here to America?”
He turned to me with searching eyes and his mouth pressed into a firm line before answering my question with one of his own.
“What are your views on gays?”
I smiled softly and told him that I have no problem with them because I would be considered hypocritical if I did, so that meant that I am gay.
“You could have just told me that in the first place.” He laughed slightly before continuing. “My boyfriend just passes away as a result of suicide a month ago and I decided that the only way I was gonna recover was if I started a whole new life from scratch.”
I painted a look of pity on my face, offered my condolences, and told him to call me if he ever wanted a listening ear.
We talked for what seemed like minutes, but were really hours until we finally noticed that the sun was going down and neither of us wanted to be stuck in this house after dark.
“Here Michael,” I said handing him a business card with my address on it, “give me a call or stop by whenever you get bored or if you ever need anything.”
He promised to keep in touch and we went our separate ways, but before I could even start my car, my phone rand with MICHAEL flashing on the caller ID.
“Yes Michael.” I asked not hiding the smile on my face.
“Hey, I don’t usually trust strangers, but, can I crash at your place tonight?”
I laughed slightly to myself, mostly out of excitement.
“Of course, but you’re gonna have to sleep on the couch.”