Physical Therapy
After being kidnapped and horribly abused by a psychotic fan, actor Drew Clayton is self-destructing. Finally, his anxious manager decides to get him some help. Fortunately for Drew, that help comes in the form of a one heck of a hunky therapist/bodyguard. With Kyle’s support, Drew might just be able to find his way back to himself.
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1
Chapters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 89
The Watcher
Chapter 1
Leon Ferris noticed that the apartment across the way from his had a new tenant as he was leaving to go to work. He only vaguely glanced at the moving boxes stacked by the open door; he was in a hurry. He had a presentation to give to an important client at his design firm, and he didn’t have time to stop and snoop. As he darted down the walk, briefcase in hand, he caught a glimpse of someone standing very still in the open doorway of the once vacant apartment, and he got the odd impression that this person was staring at him intently. But he didn’t have time to ponder this either, so he rushed onward to his car without looking back.
If he had, or if he’d had eyes in the back of his head, he might have seen the person in the doorway step out and walk after him. He might have noticed that he was followed out to his car, or that an unremarkable dark vehicle slid out of the parking lot after his into morning traffic. But since Leon didn’t expect anyone to be following him, or have any reason to be paranoid, he didn’t glance in his rearview mirror except to check the traffic behind him.
The dark car parked near Leon’s in the parking garage of his office building, but the driver didn’t get out of his vehicle until after Leon had gotten onto the elevator. And instead of following him into the building, the man walked out of the parking garage and crossed the street to a small green space that was not quite big enough to be a real park. There was a payphone near the corner, and the man picked up the receiver and placed a call. “I’m in place,” he said when the phone was picked up. “He’s gone to work. No sign of Callahan yet. He may not come to his cousin for help.” he listened, then replied: “Yes, Sir. I’ll stay with him.” then he hung up, and sat down on a wooden bench nearby. He unfolded a newspaper, set a cup of coffee next to him, and did a good imitation of a businessman perusing his morning newspaper - only he did it for several hours.
Leon’s presentation went well, and he was feeling in a great mood when he left work to get lunch. He didn’t bother to take his car; there was a nice little take-out place where he liked to eat lunch every day only a few blocks away from work. He always walked there to get some exercise before eating. He strode along, swinging his briefcase, humming a little to himself. He didn’t notice a man in a suit trailing along after him - since this person blended in with the dozens of other suit-wearing people walking in both directions along the sidewalk.
He swung into his favorite restaurant, waving at the man behind the counter. “Hi, Louie!” he called over the sounds of conversation and the music playing in the background.
“Hey, Leon! You look happy today. Somethin’ good happen?” Louie asked him cheerfully.
He nodded. “I gave a presentation to an important client earlier, and it went really well. I might get a bonus out of this.”
“Hey, that’s great!” Louie said, beaming. “What’ll you have today?” he asked next.
“My usual, Louie, and be generous with the sauce. I’m celebrating,” he said with a grin.
“You got it. Be ready in a minute,” he said.
Leon stepped back and moved down to lean against the far end of the counter, because there were no empty chairs in the restaurant. He briefly glanced sideways, and saw a man in a suit talking to Louie. Leon idly thought that the man had great bone structure; high cheekbones, an aristocratic nose, and a rather craggy jaw line. Dark eyes were lidded by slightly sloping lids, though the man wasn’t Asian. Maybe of Eastern European descent, or Russian. He passed the time while waiting for his food trying to figure out where the man’s ancestors might have come from.
The guy in the suit finished giving his order and disappeared into the whirlpool of people crowding the restaurant, and Leon thought no more about him. Louie waved him over, and he went forward to retrieve the white container and pass over the money to pay for his meal. He smiled at Louie and left the restaurant, intending to eat in the little green park-like place across from his office building. He loved being outdoors as often as he could, even with the smog and the fumes from the passing vehicles in his nostrils.
He sat on a bench and ate his spaghetti and meatballs, Louie’s specialty. The sauce was a family recipe, and Leon adored it. He glanced around himself idly, but didn’t notice the man standing near the entrance of the building next to his. The man had positioned himself beside a column that mostly obscured his body, but not his line-of-sight. He watched Leon eat and enjoy the day, until he finally wiped his mouth and threw the Styrofoam container away in a trash can. He walked across the street and entered his office building, going back to work. The man left the column and crossed the street himself, seating himself on the bench that Leon had just vacated. He unfolded the same newspaper from this morning, returning to his vigil.
*****
Leon left work after five, feeling perfectly pleased with life and with himself. He drove to a grocery store and bought some food to restock his cupboards and fridge, then stopped by the dry cleaners to pick up some of his suits. He never noticed the man following him everywhere, discretely but persistently. Finally he drove home to his apartment complex, parking in his space. He gathered up his bags of groceries and the dry cleaning bags, and started up the walk.
Suddenly he tripped on an uneven section of the sidewalk, cursing and flailing his arms. A hand came to rest on his back, steadying him. “Steady there,” a quiet voice said.
“Thanks,” he gasped, then turned his head and looked at his rescuer. He gasped a little, because the face was that of the man in the restaurant. Seeing his reaction, the man raised his dark brows.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked.
“Oh, no,” Leon said hurriedly, feeling his cheeks heat up a little in embarrassment. “It’s just…I saw you downtown earlier, at Louie’s.”
“Ah. I see. I just tried that place for the first time today. I’d heard that the food was good.”
“It is,” Leon replied. “Oh. Do you live here?” he said, belatedly realizing.
A nod. “I just moved into number 15 today.”
His new neighbor. Leon smiled. “Okay. I live across the courtyard in number 8. I saw that someone was moving in across the way, but I was in a rush to get to work. So I didn’t stop and say ‘hello’ or anything.”
“That’s all right,” the man said easily. “I was in a hurry myself. I started a new job today,” he added, lifting a briefcase to display it to Leon. “So I couldn’t have taken time to chat with you anyway. Still, it’s nice to meet a new neighbor. My name’s Caleb. Caleb Vargunin.”
‘Ah, Russian ancestry after all,’ Leon thought in satisfaction. “And I’m Leon Ferris. Nice to meet you, Caleb. I’d shake your hands, but…” he displayed his many burdens ruefully.
“Can I help you carry any of that? I’ve got a free hand,” Caleb said, eyeing his many bags.
Relieved, Leon deposited the dry cleaning bags into Caleb’s willing hands. “Thanks so much. I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, it’s no problem,” Caleb said as he followed Leon along the sidewalk.
They reached his apartment, and he unlocked the door one-handedly. Leon stepped inside, and Caleb followed him in far enough to drape the dry cleaning bags over an armchair near the door. Leon set the bags on the kitchen counter and turned to Caleb. “To thank you for so gallantly saving me and taking up some of my burdens,” he began with a grin, “Could I offer to make you dinner? I bet that you don’t even have any groceries in your apartment, if you just moved in,” he remarked shrewdly.
Caleb lifted his shoulders. “You’ve got me there,” he replied wryly. “And yes, I’d love to get a free dinner form someone else. I’m not much of a cook myself.”
“Great. Why don’t we eat on that little patio table in the center of the courtyard? It’s a beautiful day,” Leon said as he walked into his kitchen to start unloading the bags.
“Sure. Listen, I need to go and start unpacking. Will you knock on my door when the food’s ready?”
“I sure will. I know how exhausting moving can be, especially when you’ve just started a new job, too,” Leon said, making shooing motions with his hands. “I’ll give a yell when dinner’s ready.”
“Okay. See you in a bit,” Caleb departed out the open door of the apartment, and Leon watched him walk away before he turned to deal with putting away the food he’d just bought and deciding what to make them for dinner. It pleased him to have someone else to cook for, even if it was just a neighbor. Caleb seemed nice; and it would be good to have another single guy(at least, he assumed that Caleb was a single guy)in the complex, which was mostly families and older people. Even though Caleb was probably straight, it would still be nice to have another guy to talk to once in awhile. Maybe he could bribe Caleb into hanging out with him occasionally by cooking meals for him.
He sighed, knowing how pathetic that sounded. Having to bribe his new neighbor into hanging out with him? Leon did have friends, lots of friends. But it was really tiring going out with them every night, and during the week he tried to keep that kind of partying to a minimum. He wished rather wistfully that he had a boyfriend that he could spend time with, but he was between relationships at the moment. Actually, he’d been between relationships for some time now, ever since David had moved to St. Paul and had broken Leon’s heart in the process. His job had been more important to him than his lover, and when he’d been promoted and transferred he’d gone without a qualm. And he hadn’t even asked Leon if he wanted to give up his whole life and go with him…
Not that he would have agreed to that, but it still would have been nice to know that David cared enough to ask. Leon grimaced as he filled a pot with water and set it on the stove to start boiling. He’d only been dating casually since David had left, and so far none of the men that he’d dated had panned out. Most of them just wanted sex with no strings attached, or wanted to be his fuck buddy without getting in any deeper. And Leon didn’t want to be just fuck buddies with anyone. He’d done that in his twenties, and he was tired of it. All he wanted was someone he could settled down with in blissful domesticity. Was that too much to ask?
Apparently it was. Oh, well. He had a good career, lots of friends, and a generally peasant life. What more could a man ask for? Maybe some excitement, adventure, or intrigue? He laughed. Yeah, right. Wishing for that was like wishing to be an astronaut and fly to the moon. People like Leon Ferris never had anything exciting happen to them…
Leon was pleased with the way the fettuccine alfredo had turned out. Perfect! He scooped two servings onto plates along with some steamed broccoli and carrots. The plates went on a tray, along with silverware, cups, a bottle of parmesan cheese, a shaker of black pepper, and several bottles of water. He figured that if Caleb wanted something besides water to drink with his meal, he could always fetch it from his fridge in a minute. Triumphantly he carried the tray outside to the little table with the striped umbrella sitting in the middle of the courtyard, setting it down on the tabletop before he walked over to Number 15 to knock and the door and tell his new neighbor that dinner was ready.
Caleb opened the door, revealing the fact that he’d changed out of his suit. He was wearing a casual blue shirt and jeans, and Leon admitted that he enjoyed the view of the body outlined in those clothes. It was clear that Caleb worked out; his stomach was flat under the shirt, with a hint of muscular definition even hidden under the light fabric. “Hi,” he said, dragging his eyes away from the view with an effort. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Great, thanks,” Caleb said, stepping out of his apartment and closing the door behind him.
Leon led the way back to the table, and the two of them sat down. Caleb eyed the plate of fettuccine alfredo in appreciation. “That looks great,” he remarked. “Much better than I could do for myself. You’re a lifesaver, Leon.”
He felt warmth at this praise. “Thanks. I like to cook, but I don’t get many opportunities to cook for anybody but myself,” he told Caleb wryly.
“You live alone?” Caleb asked him, sounding sympathetic.
He nodded, shrugging his shoulders ruefully. “I was living with a…guy…but he moved away because he got a good job opportunity,” he began tentatively. He wondered how Caleb would react to his admission that he was gay.
The other man picked up his fork. “That’s tough,” he said, sounding commiserating.
Leon relaxed when it became clear that Caleb wasn’t the least put off by his sexual orientation. He picked up his own fork and dug in, after liberally sprinkling his fettuccine with parmesan and black pepper. Caleb was more sparing with these toppings, and he chewed with every sign of enjoyment as he ate. Leon poured the water into two cups and handed one to Caleb, who took it with thanks. They both enjoyed the warm but not hot evening, and the sun falling slowly behind the apartment buildings that limned the rosebushes planted along the sides of the buildings in old gold.
“This is great,” Caleb said after awhile. “All of it, I mean. The food, and the company,” he smiled slightly at Leon, who almost choked on his sip of water when his body tightened suddenly and sharply, “And the day,” he looked around. “I’m not used to this.” he added. “I just moved from back East. “They’re neck deep in snow back there by now. It’ll take me some time to get used to no snow, and being warm all the time.”
“Just wait until summer rolls around again,” Leon remarked dryly. “Then you’ll wish that you were back East, believe me. That stuff about it being a dry heat is just crap. You just feel like you’re baking instead of boiling, that’s all.”
Caleb grimaced. “That doesn’t sound too good,” he said. “But I suppose there’s always something you have to put up with, weather-wise, wherever you live. Whether it’s ice and snow and bone-cold chill, or heat that bakes you alive and earthquakes and mudslides…you can’t get away from the downsides, is what I mean.”
“Very true. But I still like it here,” Leon told him. “My former boyfriend moved to St. Paul, Minnesota, and even if he’d asked me to go with him I wouldn’t have. I just can’t imagine living in a place that cold…” he added with a shiver.
“Where would you live if you could live anywhere that you wanted?” Caleb asked, spearing a piece of broccoli and putting it in his mouth.
“St. Tropez, in France,” Leon replied promptly. “It’s warm, and beautiful, and there are nude beaches,” he went on with a grin. “And they’re all so laid back about their sexuality in France…not like here,” he said with a sigh. “I bet they don’t ever have Bible-thumpers come up to them on the street and tell them that they’re damned and going straight to Hell when they die,” his voice was glum as he said this.
Caleb shook his head. “That kind of thing really pisses me off,” he remarked. “Everyone is free to live however they wish, as long as it doesn’t break the law or hurt anybody. I’ve never understood why those kinds of people think they have the right to tell anybody else how they can live. Nobody ever tells THEM how they should live, though there are times that I’d like to. Give them a taste of their own medicine. Bet they wouldn’t like it at all.”
Leon stared at him across the tabletop. The anger in his voice… “It sounds…like you take that kind of thing…personally…” he began attentively.
Caleb nodded. “I do,” he replied. Then he grinned faintly. “I’m gay, Leon,” he said in amusement. “Since that’s what you were obviously wondering.”
He felt his cheeks heat a little in embarrassment, even as his stomach muscles tightened again at Caleb’s admission that he was gay. “Ah, I see,” he said aloud. “So you know what it’s like.”
“Yes. And I don’t appreciate it at all. I have the right to live my life in whatever way that I choose, and so do you. Being gay might be a ’sin’, but we have the right to decide that we’re going to be sinners without them sticking their noses into it. For my part…” a little smile quirked one side of his mouth, and the slightly sloping eyes went low-lidded, “I really enjoy being a sinner. Don’t you?”
Leon gulped heavily. “Yes, I do,” he croaked, glad that he didn’t have to stand up at the moment. His straining erection might just give him away.
Caleb relaxed back into his chair with a sigh. “Let’s not talk about that anymore,” he said. “It’s too negative a subject. How about we get to know each other instead? What do you do for a living, Leon?”
“I work for a design firm,” Leon replied, getting a hold of himself. “I had a presentation today that went really well. I might even get a bonus,” he added happily.
“That’s great. My new job is downtown, just like yours; that’s why you saw me at that restaurant today,” Caleb said.
“What do you do?”
“I work for a financial firm,” Caleb replied easily. “Securities, mergers, and acquisitions. Boring, really. We’re sort of headhunters, only we acquire companies. We usually break them up and parcel them out, unless they’re still financially sound. Then we resell them for a profit. We’re sharks, really,” he went on with a wry smile.
“You don’t really strike me as a shark,” Leon commented doubtfully.
Caleb’s brows lifted. “Don’t I? I’ve been told I have the face of a Russian gangster,” he noted in amusement.
“I suppose. But what you look like isn’t important. It’s what’s inside that counts,” Leon said firmly.
Caleb studied his face thoughtfully. “Huh. It’s nice to meet somebody that feels that way,” he said slowly. “You’re an unusual person, Leon.”
He ducked his head a little. “Not really,” he protested.
“Yes,” Caleb replied. “You are. Anyway,” he consulted his watch, grimacing a little, “This has been great and I really enjoyed it, but I’ve got some more unpacking to do before I go to bed. Thanks again for dinner, Leon,” he said as he pushed himself to his feet.
“Hey, you’re welcome but I enjoyed it too. It’s nice to eat with somebody else once in awhile,” Leon reassured him, rising to his own feet. “Anyway, it was good to meet you, Caleb. It’ll be nice to have a neighbor who’s gay,” he added with a crooked smile of his own. “Sometimes I feel drowned in a sea of heterosexuality.”
Caleb chuckled. “I can see why you would,” he agreed. “Goodnight, Leon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Caleb.” Leon watched as his new neighbor walked away toward his apartment, and admitted that he watched Caleb’s ass in those jeans as he did so. What was the harm in looking? Caleb was gay, after all.
He gathered up the empty plates and cups and the silverware, putting it all on the tray an carrying it into his apartment. He’d really enjoyed easting dinner with Caleb. Maybe he could talk his new neighbor into doing it again sometime soon. He made a mean pork roast…
Inside of his apartment, Caleb pulled out a cell phone and made a call. “Just checking in, Sir,” he said to the person on the other end. “Callahan didn’t try to make contact with Ferris. Yes, I’m in place. Also, I had dinner with him. At his invitation. He cooked. Yes, I gave him my cover story. He bought it. I don’t think that there’ll be any problem if he befriends me; he seems fairly naïve. No, Sir. I won’t let it become personal,” he added sharply. “I know my job. Yes, he’s gay like me. But I won’t let that fact interfere with my duty. You have my word on that. Yes, Sir. Goodbye.” he hung up the phone, staring down at it with his mouth set in a grim line. Sometimes, he thought to himself, he didn’t like his job much at all. And that included lying to someone as nice as Leon Ferris was.
Leon, unaware of the true nature of his new neighbor, puttered around getting ready for bed. He was thinking about Caleb as he took a shower, wondering what the man looked like naked. He indulged in a little masturbation while having these dirty thoughts, and he moaned Caleb’s name when he came. Fantasies about his hot new neighbor was the closest thing that he had to a personal life at the moment, sad as that was. He pulled on a robe and padded into his bedroom, greeting the silky ball of fur curled up on his bed. “I’ll tell you, Felina, the guy across the way is totally yummy,” he told the cat as he sat down next to her and petted her long white fur. “I wouldn’t mind ‘getting to know him better’, if you know what I mean. He DOES look like a Russian gangster,” he giggled, scratching at his cat’s ears to make her purr, “Though I’d think that would add a touch of danger in the bedroom. Don’t you?”
The cat yawned, showing off her pink mouth, clearly not interested. He laughed ruefully. “You’re lucky; you’re spade,” he said to her. “We humans just have to suffer. Unless they can talk their sexy new neighbors into becoming their sex slaves…” he added with a laugh.
Leon didn’t see much of his gorgeous new neighbor over the next few days. He considered going over there one evening and knocking on the door, to ask Caleb if he wanted to eat dinner with him again. But he didn’t want to impose on the man, since Caleb had to be busy getting settled into his new job and life. Maybe when the weekend came, he could offer to cook for them both again? But he didn’t want to seem too pushy or needy; that would be a huge turn-off. He dithered and debated, and finally decided regretfully that since Caleb showed no signs of being interested in him, or in a repeat of their first dinner, he’d simply have to let it go.
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Chapters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 89
The Watcher
Chapter 1
Leon Ferris noticed that the apartment across the way from his had a new tenant as he was leaving to go to work. He only vaguely glanced at the moving boxes stacked by the open door; he was in a hurry. He had a presentation to give to an important client at his design firm, and he didn’t have time to stop and snoop. As he darted down the walk, briefcase in hand, he caught a glimpse of someone standing very still in the open doorway of the once vacant apartment, and he got the odd impression that this person was staring at him intently. But he didn’t have time to ponder this either, so he rushed onward to his car without looking back.
If he had, or if he’d had eyes in the back of his head, he might have seen the person in the doorway step out and walk after him. He might have noticed that he was followed out to his car, or that an unremarkable dark vehicle slid out of the parking lot after his into morning traffic. But since Leon didn’t expect anyone to be following him, or have any reason to be paranoid, he didn’t glance in his rearview mirror except to check the traffic behind him.
The dark car parked near Leon’s in the parking garage of his office building, but the driver didn’t get out of his vehicle until after Leon had gotten onto the elevator. And instead of following him into the building, the man walked out of the parking garage and crossed the street to a small green space that was not quite big enough to be a real park. There was a payphone near the corner, and the man picked up the receiver and placed a call. “I’m in place,” he said when the phone was picked up. “He’s gone to work. No sign of Callahan yet. He may not come to his cousin for help.” he listened, then replied: “Yes, Sir. I’ll stay with him.” then he hung up, and sat down on a wooden bench nearby. He unfolded a newspaper, set a cup of coffee next to him, and did a good imitation of a businessman perusing his morning newspaper - only he did it for several hours.
Leon’s presentation went well, and he was feeling in a great mood when he left work to get lunch. He didn’t bother to take his car; there was a nice little take-out place where he liked to eat lunch every day only a few blocks away from work. He always walked there to get some exercise before eating. He strode along, swinging his briefcase, humming a little to himself. He didn’t notice a man in a suit trailing along after him - since this person blended in with the dozens of other suit-wearing people walking in both directions along the sidewalk.
He swung into his favorite restaurant, waving at the man behind the counter. “Hi, Louie!” he called over the sounds of conversation and the music playing in the background.
“Hey, Leon! You look happy today. Somethin’ good happen?” Louie asked him cheerfully.
He nodded. “I gave a presentation to an important client earlier, and it went really well. I might get a bonus out of this.”
“Hey, that’s great!” Louie said, beaming. “What’ll you have today?” he asked next.
“My usual, Louie, and be generous with the sauce. I’m celebrating,” he said with a grin.
“You got it. Be ready in a minute,” he said.
Leon stepped back and moved down to lean against the far end of the counter, because there were no empty chairs in the restaurant. He briefly glanced sideways, and saw a man in a suit talking to Louie. Leon idly thought that the man had great bone structure; high cheekbones, an aristocratic nose, and a rather craggy jaw line. Dark eyes were lidded by slightly sloping lids, though the man wasn’t Asian. Maybe of Eastern European descent, or Russian. He passed the time while waiting for his food trying to figure out where the man’s ancestors might have come from.
The guy in the suit finished giving his order and disappeared into the whirlpool of people crowding the restaurant, and Leon thought no more about him. Louie waved him over, and he went forward to retrieve the white container and pass over the money to pay for his meal. He smiled at Louie and left the restaurant, intending to eat in the little green park-like place across from his office building. He loved being outdoors as often as he could, even with the smog and the fumes from the passing vehicles in his nostrils.
He sat on a bench and ate his spaghetti and meatballs, Louie’s specialty. The sauce was a family recipe, and Leon adored it. He glanced around himself idly, but didn’t notice the man standing near the entrance of the building next to his. The man had positioned himself beside a column that mostly obscured his body, but not his line-of-sight. He watched Leon eat and enjoy the day, until he finally wiped his mouth and threw the Styrofoam container away in a trash can. He walked across the street and entered his office building, going back to work. The man left the column and crossed the street himself, seating himself on the bench that Leon had just vacated. He unfolded the same newspaper from this morning, returning to his vigil.
*****
Leon left work after five, feeling perfectly pleased with life and with himself. He drove to a grocery store and bought some food to restock his cupboards and fridge, then stopped by the dry cleaners to pick up some of his suits. He never noticed the man following him everywhere, discretely but persistently. Finally he drove home to his apartment complex, parking in his space. He gathered up his bags of groceries and the dry cleaning bags, and started up the walk.
Suddenly he tripped on an uneven section of the sidewalk, cursing and flailing his arms. A hand came to rest on his back, steadying him. “Steady there,” a quiet voice said.
“Thanks,” he gasped, then turned his head and looked at his rescuer. He gasped a little, because the face was that of the man in the restaurant. Seeing his reaction, the man raised his dark brows.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked.
“Oh, no,” Leon said hurriedly, feeling his cheeks heat up a little in embarrassment. “It’s just…I saw you downtown earlier, at Louie’s.”
“Ah. I see. I just tried that place for the first time today. I’d heard that the food was good.”
“It is,” Leon replied. “Oh. Do you live here?” he said, belatedly realizing.
A nod. “I just moved into number 15 today.”
His new neighbor. Leon smiled. “Okay. I live across the courtyard in number 8. I saw that someone was moving in across the way, but I was in a rush to get to work. So I didn’t stop and say ‘hello’ or anything.”
“That’s all right,” the man said easily. “I was in a hurry myself. I started a new job today,” he added, lifting a briefcase to display it to Leon. “So I couldn’t have taken time to chat with you anyway. Still, it’s nice to meet a new neighbor. My name’s Caleb. Caleb Vargunin.”
‘Ah, Russian ancestry after all,’ Leon thought in satisfaction. “And I’m Leon Ferris. Nice to meet you, Caleb. I’d shake your hands, but…” he displayed his many burdens ruefully.
“Can I help you carry any of that? I’ve got a free hand,” Caleb said, eyeing his many bags.
Relieved, Leon deposited the dry cleaning bags into Caleb’s willing hands. “Thanks so much. I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, it’s no problem,” Caleb said as he followed Leon along the sidewalk.
They reached his apartment, and he unlocked the door one-handedly. Leon stepped inside, and Caleb followed him in far enough to drape the dry cleaning bags over an armchair near the door. Leon set the bags on the kitchen counter and turned to Caleb. “To thank you for so gallantly saving me and taking up some of my burdens,” he began with a grin, “Could I offer to make you dinner? I bet that you don’t even have any groceries in your apartment, if you just moved in,” he remarked shrewdly.
Caleb lifted his shoulders. “You’ve got me there,” he replied wryly. “And yes, I’d love to get a free dinner form someone else. I’m not much of a cook myself.”
“Great. Why don’t we eat on that little patio table in the center of the courtyard? It’s a beautiful day,” Leon said as he walked into his kitchen to start unloading the bags.
“Sure. Listen, I need to go and start unpacking. Will you knock on my door when the food’s ready?”
“I sure will. I know how exhausting moving can be, especially when you’ve just started a new job, too,” Leon said, making shooing motions with his hands. “I’ll give a yell when dinner’s ready.”
“Okay. See you in a bit,” Caleb departed out the open door of the apartment, and Leon watched him walk away before he turned to deal with putting away the food he’d just bought and deciding what to make them for dinner. It pleased him to have someone else to cook for, even if it was just a neighbor. Caleb seemed nice; and it would be good to have another single guy(at least, he assumed that Caleb was a single guy)in the complex, which was mostly families and older people. Even though Caleb was probably straight, it would still be nice to have another guy to talk to once in awhile. Maybe he could bribe Caleb into hanging out with him occasionally by cooking meals for him.
He sighed, knowing how pathetic that sounded. Having to bribe his new neighbor into hanging out with him? Leon did have friends, lots of friends. But it was really tiring going out with them every night, and during the week he tried to keep that kind of partying to a minimum. He wished rather wistfully that he had a boyfriend that he could spend time with, but he was between relationships at the moment. Actually, he’d been between relationships for some time now, ever since David had moved to St. Paul and had broken Leon’s heart in the process. His job had been more important to him than his lover, and when he’d been promoted and transferred he’d gone without a qualm. And he hadn’t even asked Leon if he wanted to give up his whole life and go with him…
Not that he would have agreed to that, but it still would have been nice to know that David cared enough to ask. Leon grimaced as he filled a pot with water and set it on the stove to start boiling. He’d only been dating casually since David had left, and so far none of the men that he’d dated had panned out. Most of them just wanted sex with no strings attached, or wanted to be his fuck buddy without getting in any deeper. And Leon didn’t want to be just fuck buddies with anyone. He’d done that in his twenties, and he was tired of it. All he wanted was someone he could settled down with in blissful domesticity. Was that too much to ask?
Apparently it was. Oh, well. He had a good career, lots of friends, and a generally peasant life. What more could a man ask for? Maybe some excitement, adventure, or intrigue? He laughed. Yeah, right. Wishing for that was like wishing to be an astronaut and fly to the moon. People like Leon Ferris never had anything exciting happen to them…
Leon was pleased with the way the fettuccine alfredo had turned out. Perfect! He scooped two servings onto plates along with some steamed broccoli and carrots. The plates went on a tray, along with silverware, cups, a bottle of parmesan cheese, a shaker of black pepper, and several bottles of water. He figured that if Caleb wanted something besides water to drink with his meal, he could always fetch it from his fridge in a minute. Triumphantly he carried the tray outside to the little table with the striped umbrella sitting in the middle of the courtyard, setting it down on the tabletop before he walked over to Number 15 to knock and the door and tell his new neighbor that dinner was ready.
Caleb opened the door, revealing the fact that he’d changed out of his suit. He was wearing a casual blue shirt and jeans, and Leon admitted that he enjoyed the view of the body outlined in those clothes. It was clear that Caleb worked out; his stomach was flat under the shirt, with a hint of muscular definition even hidden under the light fabric. “Hi,” he said, dragging his eyes away from the view with an effort. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Great, thanks,” Caleb said, stepping out of his apartment and closing the door behind him.
Leon led the way back to the table, and the two of them sat down. Caleb eyed the plate of fettuccine alfredo in appreciation. “That looks great,” he remarked. “Much better than I could do for myself. You’re a lifesaver, Leon.”
He felt warmth at this praise. “Thanks. I like to cook, but I don’t get many opportunities to cook for anybody but myself,” he told Caleb wryly.
“You live alone?” Caleb asked him, sounding sympathetic.
He nodded, shrugging his shoulders ruefully. “I was living with a…guy…but he moved away because he got a good job opportunity,” he began tentatively. He wondered how Caleb would react to his admission that he was gay.
The other man picked up his fork. “That’s tough,” he said, sounding commiserating.
Leon relaxed when it became clear that Caleb wasn’t the least put off by his sexual orientation. He picked up his own fork and dug in, after liberally sprinkling his fettuccine with parmesan and black pepper. Caleb was more sparing with these toppings, and he chewed with every sign of enjoyment as he ate. Leon poured the water into two cups and handed one to Caleb, who took it with thanks. They both enjoyed the warm but not hot evening, and the sun falling slowly behind the apartment buildings that limned the rosebushes planted along the sides of the buildings in old gold.
“This is great,” Caleb said after awhile. “All of it, I mean. The food, and the company,” he smiled slightly at Leon, who almost choked on his sip of water when his body tightened suddenly and sharply, “And the day,” he looked around. “I’m not used to this.” he added. “I just moved from back East. “They’re neck deep in snow back there by now. It’ll take me some time to get used to no snow, and being warm all the time.”
“Just wait until summer rolls around again,” Leon remarked dryly. “Then you’ll wish that you were back East, believe me. That stuff about it being a dry heat is just crap. You just feel like you’re baking instead of boiling, that’s all.”
Caleb grimaced. “That doesn’t sound too good,” he said. “But I suppose there’s always something you have to put up with, weather-wise, wherever you live. Whether it’s ice and snow and bone-cold chill, or heat that bakes you alive and earthquakes and mudslides…you can’t get away from the downsides, is what I mean.”
“Very true. But I still like it here,” Leon told him. “My former boyfriend moved to St. Paul, Minnesota, and even if he’d asked me to go with him I wouldn’t have. I just can’t imagine living in a place that cold…” he added with a shiver.
“Where would you live if you could live anywhere that you wanted?” Caleb asked, spearing a piece of broccoli and putting it in his mouth.
“St. Tropez, in France,” Leon replied promptly. “It’s warm, and beautiful, and there are nude beaches,” he went on with a grin. “And they’re all so laid back about their sexuality in France…not like here,” he said with a sigh. “I bet they don’t ever have Bible-thumpers come up to them on the street and tell them that they’re damned and going straight to Hell when they die,” his voice was glum as he said this.
Caleb shook his head. “That kind of thing really pisses me off,” he remarked. “Everyone is free to live however they wish, as long as it doesn’t break the law or hurt anybody. I’ve never understood why those kinds of people think they have the right to tell anybody else how they can live. Nobody ever tells THEM how they should live, though there are times that I’d like to. Give them a taste of their own medicine. Bet they wouldn’t like it at all.”
Leon stared at him across the tabletop. The anger in his voice… “It sounds…like you take that kind of thing…personally…” he began attentively.
Caleb nodded. “I do,” he replied. Then he grinned faintly. “I’m gay, Leon,” he said in amusement. “Since that’s what you were obviously wondering.”
He felt his cheeks heat a little in embarrassment, even as his stomach muscles tightened again at Caleb’s admission that he was gay. “Ah, I see,” he said aloud. “So you know what it’s like.”
“Yes. And I don’t appreciate it at all. I have the right to live my life in whatever way that I choose, and so do you. Being gay might be a ’sin’, but we have the right to decide that we’re going to be sinners without them sticking their noses into it. For my part…” a little smile quirked one side of his mouth, and the slightly sloping eyes went low-lidded, “I really enjoy being a sinner. Don’t you?”
Leon gulped heavily. “Yes, I do,” he croaked, glad that he didn’t have to stand up at the moment. His straining erection might just give him away.
Caleb relaxed back into his chair with a sigh. “Let’s not talk about that anymore,” he said. “It’s too negative a subject. How about we get to know each other instead? What do you do for a living, Leon?”
“I work for a design firm,” Leon replied, getting a hold of himself. “I had a presentation today that went really well. I might even get a bonus,” he added happily.
“That’s great. My new job is downtown, just like yours; that’s why you saw me at that restaurant today,” Caleb said.
“What do you do?”
“I work for a financial firm,” Caleb replied easily. “Securities, mergers, and acquisitions. Boring, really. We’re sort of headhunters, only we acquire companies. We usually break them up and parcel them out, unless they’re still financially sound. Then we resell them for a profit. We’re sharks, really,” he went on with a wry smile.
“You don’t really strike me as a shark,” Leon commented doubtfully.
Caleb’s brows lifted. “Don’t I? I’ve been told I have the face of a Russian gangster,” he noted in amusement.
“I suppose. But what you look like isn’t important. It’s what’s inside that counts,” Leon said firmly.
Caleb studied his face thoughtfully. “Huh. It’s nice to meet somebody that feels that way,” he said slowly. “You’re an unusual person, Leon.”
He ducked his head a little. “Not really,” he protested.
“Yes,” Caleb replied. “You are. Anyway,” he consulted his watch, grimacing a little, “This has been great and I really enjoyed it, but I’ve got some more unpacking to do before I go to bed. Thanks again for dinner, Leon,” he said as he pushed himself to his feet.
“Hey, you’re welcome but I enjoyed it too. It’s nice to eat with somebody else once in awhile,” Leon reassured him, rising to his own feet. “Anyway, it was good to meet you, Caleb. It’ll be nice to have a neighbor who’s gay,” he added with a crooked smile of his own. “Sometimes I feel drowned in a sea of heterosexuality.”
Caleb chuckled. “I can see why you would,” he agreed. “Goodnight, Leon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Caleb.” Leon watched as his new neighbor walked away toward his apartment, and admitted that he watched Caleb’s ass in those jeans as he did so. What was the harm in looking? Caleb was gay, after all.
He gathered up the empty plates and cups and the silverware, putting it all on the tray an carrying it into his apartment. He’d really enjoyed easting dinner with Caleb. Maybe he could talk his new neighbor into doing it again sometime soon. He made a mean pork roast…
Inside of his apartment, Caleb pulled out a cell phone and made a call. “Just checking in, Sir,” he said to the person on the other end. “Callahan didn’t try to make contact with Ferris. Yes, I’m in place. Also, I had dinner with him. At his invitation. He cooked. Yes, I gave him my cover story. He bought it. I don’t think that there’ll be any problem if he befriends me; he seems fairly naïve. No, Sir. I won’t let it become personal,” he added sharply. “I know my job. Yes, he’s gay like me. But I won’t let that fact interfere with my duty. You have my word on that. Yes, Sir. Goodbye.” he hung up the phone, staring down at it with his mouth set in a grim line. Sometimes, he thought to himself, he didn’t like his job much at all. And that included lying to someone as nice as Leon Ferris was.
Leon, unaware of the true nature of his new neighbor, puttered around getting ready for bed. He was thinking about Caleb as he took a shower, wondering what the man looked like naked. He indulged in a little masturbation while having these dirty thoughts, and he moaned Caleb’s name when he came. Fantasies about his hot new neighbor was the closest thing that he had to a personal life at the moment, sad as that was. He pulled on a robe and padded into his bedroom, greeting the silky ball of fur curled up on his bed. “I’ll tell you, Felina, the guy across the way is totally yummy,” he told the cat as he sat down next to her and petted her long white fur. “I wouldn’t mind ‘getting to know him better’, if you know what I mean. He DOES look like a Russian gangster,” he giggled, scratching at his cat’s ears to make her purr, “Though I’d think that would add a touch of danger in the bedroom. Don’t you?”
The cat yawned, showing off her pink mouth, clearly not interested. He laughed ruefully. “You’re lucky; you’re spade,” he said to her. “We humans just have to suffer. Unless they can talk their sexy new neighbors into becoming their sex slaves…” he added with a laugh.
Leon didn’t see much of his gorgeous new neighbor over the next few days. He considered going over there one evening and knocking on the door, to ask Caleb if he wanted to eat dinner with him again. But he didn’t want to impose on the man, since Caleb had to be busy getting settled into his new job and life. Maybe when the weekend came, he could offer to cook for them both again? But he didn’t want to seem too pushy or needy; that would be a huge turn-off. He dithered and debated, and finally decided regretfully that since Caleb showed no signs of being interested in him, or in a repeat of their first dinner, he’d simply have to let it go.
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