I couldn't tell you if I was relieved to see Tom go away to school or depressed. I mean, what we did together, it was really special for me. But somewhere in the back of my head, even though I wished it weren't so, I knew he couldn't come live with me. I knew we'd have to part someday, and I guess it had really struck me when Nate came back to town. I almost felt regret, like I had ruined Tom's innocence, but at the time I was so happy I had done it.
The nice thing about fixing cars, and maybe any other job, is that you just come to understand it after a while. You know when you need real concentration, and when your mind can just sort of drift around the rest of your life. I was covered in grease already from two morning jobs, and it was feeling kind of hot in the shop. I just parked the third job on my list, a nice black Dodge Charger. Not the most expensive car money can buy, but brand new and shined so well that anyone would think it had cost a hundred grand. It was due for a simple inspection, oil change, and tire rotation. Nothing I couldn't handle.
I got down to business, and my mind drifted back to Nate. I had seen him a couple of times since he first came over to my apartment. We did go out to dinner soon after, and it was really nice. If it weren't for Tom, I could really see a relationship with him. I just didn't know what Tom would think. God, I felt like such an ass. I should have had better control of myself around Nate. At least until Tom had left and couldn't be my lover anymore.
As these thoughts were rolling around in my head, I noticed someone standing over my work bay. I stood up and brushed myself off, assessing the stranger. He was old, gray hair, and worn skin from years of sun. He had to be at least sixty. That said, he was still handsome, and he looked still broad and muscular under his blue blazer. My eyes drifted to the silver ring on his finger, and the silver tie bar. The man must have had money.
"Is there something I can help you with sir? There's a waiting room up front by the showroom."
His facial expression reminded me of that of a statue. "I just wanted to get a feel for the person who's working on my car. You have a lot of experience doing this?"
I put on my best smile. "Enough to do a good job, sir. I should really get working, though. There will be a lot of other cars to take care of after yours."
"That's fine, that's fine. I'll just watch you, if you don't mind."
What the hell was I supposed to say to that? I wasn't thrilled. I looked over to the desk to see if I could get eye contact with Dave or Susan, to get a little help, but Dave was busy with his computer screen and Susan was talking with another customer. Helpless, I went back to work, his shadow palpable over me as if it were a blanket.
"I used to work a lot with my hands. A builder. I did mostly residential homes."
Well, now I wouldn't even be able to sort out my thoughts about Tom. It was all I could do to avoid getting distracted. There was a sort of hypnotic quality to the man's voice. The more he talked, the more I wanted to listen. I was reluctant when I had to rotate the tires. The machinery was deafening, and he had to pause. He went on for quite a while about his younger days, and I think I actually began to find him interesting. In the end I was certainly grateful. I had finished the inspection checklist without even realizing I was near the end.
I turned to him. "Well, sir, everything is done. It was really nice to meet you. I've just got to turn in the paperwork to the desk, and they'll get everything in the system and ring you up." I started the lift to bring the car back down.
"It was nice talking to you, young man. Listen," he stepped closer, even though I doubted anyone else could hear what he was saying anyways, "as, um, fine as this establishment is, I'm sure they don't pay you too much. If you'd like some extra work, give me a call. I've got a task that I think will interest you, and I assure you I can pay quite well." He slipped a piece of paper into my shirt pocket, and his hand grazed my nipple before he took it away. I would have sworn from the glint in his eye that it was on purpose.
Immediately I froze. My heart beat a little faster, and I could feel my cock stirring in my pants. Did he just? He turned to head toward the counter, and I shook my head, then followed. Luckily, I could turn myself on autopilot to relate the details of the work to Susan. There was nothing out of the ordinary anyways. I returned his car to the lot and headed to the break room for a breather before taking on my next assignment.
As I drove home that evening my attention was divided between that strange customer who'd given me his number and what I was supposed to serve Nate for dinner that night. I was very grateful to have his company, but I sometimes wondered if it might be smarter to go out for dinner or just ask him to come over after. And should I tell him about this guy at work? I mean, it couldn't hurt to mention it as long as I didn't relate the last part or tell him that I got the guy's number. I still didn't know what to do with that, either. I should have thrown the damn thing out, but it was still in my pocket. The paper seemed so stiff that I could feel its crease press against my chest.
Of course, when I pulled into my driveway, Nate's car was already there. Nobody was on the porch, and I didn't see him in his car, so he must have let him in with the spare. I wasn't late, was I? I got out of the car and checked the mailbox. Far too many envelopes for comfort.
I found Nate sitting on the couch in the living room, reading an issue of Esquire. I tossed the bills onto the coffee table and sat down next to him. He gave me a kiss and put the magazine down. "Long day at work?"
"It's always long," I laughed. "I didn't think I got back too late. I hope you haven't been here too long?"
He shook his head. I loved the way his black hair fell across his forehead. "I think I just got lucky with traffic today. Plus you work a little bit farther away than I do. I was going to stop home for a minute, but it didn't seem necessary."
"Well," I said, getting up, "I have no idea still what to make for you. Want to come take a look in the fridge with me? Not that there's anything there."
He got up and followed me to the kitchen, and we inspected what I had to offer. It really didn't look like much. I'd have to go grocery shopping after work tomorrow. There were at least some pork chops left. I could cook those up, and it looked like there were some leftover mashed potatoes and frozen peas in the freezer. "Will you be okay if one of them's a leftover? God, I wish it weren't so hard to keep this thing stocked?"
"Yeah, that's fine."
I got everything out and fetched a frying pan. Nate stood by the sink and watched as I put some oil in the bottom and started to cook the meat. "I'm sorry I don't have anything fancy to do with it. If you want, you can see if I've got some dressing that would work."
"It's okay. Man, it must be tough living on your own. You're always in need of food like this, aren't you? Makes me feel like a child for staying with Mom and Dad."
"Don't." The sizzle of the oil filled my ears, and I let the meat sit for a moment while I checked how long the peas would have to microwave. "I just couldn't take it, you know? I mean, imagine if I still lived with my parents and you had to visit me there. Where would we have sex?"
"Hmm, it might be sexy to try the garage. Or you could take a shower and we could pretend I was waiting for you in your room instead of in there with you."
I laughed. "I feel like an addict saying this, but I cannot go back to a life without sex. And especially gay sex. What would they think if, not only did they catch me having sex in their house, but with another man? I'd have to move out anyways!"
