The magna came into view and Edgar stood, tossing the sandwich wrapper into a nearby trash container. The train pulled to a stop; after allowing a few early-bird passengers to exit, he boarded. He took a seat near the back of the car, again stretching out his legs. His stomach, encouraged by the small sandwich, growled eagerly. Edgar patted it and closed his eyes, looking forward to a stack of French toast and a pound of bacon.
CHAPTER 11
After navigating the rush hour throng at Altair Station, Edgar was ready for the peace and quiet of his apartment. He'd lost track of the number of times he'd been bumped; the Italian loafers needed a serious polishing after being stepped on a couple dozen times and he was sure the warm, damp spot he felt on his back was someone's coffee, not perspiration.
The closer he got to Highland House, the thinner the crowd became until finally the building was in sight and he was able to break out of the stream of commuters. He paused for a moment, turning to look at the throng; he shook his head, once again relieved that he didn't have to participate in the rat race. He turned back to the building and headed inside, immediately greeted by the peace of the ornate lobby. The day attendant waved a greeting and went back to her comm conversation. Edgar returned the wave and went to the elevator. Moments later, he was palming the lock pad at his front door.
Once inside, he kicked off the abused loafers and took off the Armani jacket. Holding it out in front of himself, he inspected it and found that he'd been right: The damp spot was slightly sticky and smelled of coffee. He took it to the laundry center and hung it up to clean later. As an afterthought, he took off the shirt - also stained - and the pants, hanging them up with the jacket. The socks and briefs wound up in the hamper. A quick stretch and Edgar left for the kitchen, intent on breakfast.
Coffee first, then food. I generally eat like an elephant, but after a night of great sex... I eat like a herd of elephants. Let's see...
Edgar's thoughts of food were interrupted by an incoming call. "ID caller," he requested.
The HC complied, "Comm ID: Maddox Bristow."
"Put him through," Edgar said, getting his first mug of coffee and heading to the sofa.
Maddox' voice came over the speakers a few moments later, a little breathless. Edgar guessed it was most likely nerves. "H-hello, Edgar! I, uh, thanks for calling me back. How are you?"
"Hi, Maddi!" Edgar replied, smiling. He really wanted to make the boy comfortable. "I'm having a great day, thanks. I hope you are, too. I was surprised, happily," Edgar added, "to hear from you. I really had a good time at the party."
"Oh wow, really? I mean, thanks! That's so cool! I'm glad you're, uh, having a good day; mine is pretty good, too," Maddi said.
"Glad to hear it," Edgar replied. "And yes, really. I don't lie about stuff like that, never have; I think it's cruel to play with people's feelings. If I hadn't enjoyed myself, we wouldn't be talking right now."
"Yeah?" Maddi said. "Thanks, that's so great! I, uh, guess I'm a bit nervous," at which point, he laughed, embarrassed. "I, um, don't usually do this sort of thing. Sounds stupid, I know. I mean we met at an orgy and all."
Edgar chuckled softly. "Not stupid at all, Maddi. Talking to someone one-on-one is a whole different thing than getting together at an orgy. Everyone gets nervous now and again, even me." Edgar neglected to mention that his last serious case of nerves was over two hundred eighty years ago. Eternity had a way of helping one overcome such things. He continued, "Just take a breath and relax; I promise, it's all going to be OK. So, you'd like to get together again; tell me what you have in mind." Sometimes the direct approach was best, especially since drawing it out would only prolong Maddi's discomfort, regardless of the outcome.
Maddi evidently took Edger literally, evidenced by the sound of exhaling. Edgar thought it was cute. "Yeah, I, uh, do wanna see you again. Last month was loads of fun. Pun intended." This brought another chuckle from Edgar, pleased to hear the boy relaxing. Maddi took the chuckle as a good sign and went on, "I'd sure love to do it again, only with you this time. But, um, I'd kinda like to see you more of like a date first."
Edgar pictured Maddi, holding his breath, waiting for an answer. He'd already decided that it was worth exploring something beyond just a good fuck with Maddi. "I think that sounds great, Maddi. We did talk a little that night, remember? I enjoyed that as well as everything else. I'm honored that you did, too, and that you're asking me for a date."
The relief in Maddi's voice was almost palpable as he said, "Awesome! Thanks, Edgar!"
"I'm glad you're happy. No need to thank me, by the way. I have an idea for a date, just pick the day. I'm pretty flexible, as you might recall," Edgar said, knowing that humor, however lame, was putting the nervous young man at ease. "What I have in mind is better for late afternoon, early evening."
There was a brief pause, then Maddi laughed and said, "Actually, I was so nervous about asking you, I never thought ahead to what we might do. I'm good with whatever you have planned, Edgar. I'm pretty open too, schedule-wise. Uh, how about tomorrow or is that too eager?"
"No worries," Edgar said with a laugh. "I totally understand. It's clear that we're both looking forward to it, so tomorrow night is fine! Who cares about sounding eager? Those are just bullshit rules made up by control freaks too afraid to go after what they really want. You'll find that I speak my mind freely, don't care much about such rules, and almost always go after what I want."
The energy in the conversation shifted at that point, as though Edgar's words broke the invisible bonds with which Maddi bound himself. His response sounded more confident and relaxed. He said, "You are so cool, Edgar. I've always had a problem with stuff like that, never knowing what's 'the right thing' to do. I wanted so badly to ask you out before you left the party, but I thought it would look, I dunno, wrong somehow. Thanks for understanding and not thinking I'm just some stupid kid."
"Never will I think that, Maddi. It took me a while to get to the point where I refused to buy into that crap." Again, Edger didn't mention that 'a while' was more like fifty years. "I don't want you to worry about being honest with me and speaking your mind. I'd be more concerned if I constantly had to guess at what you're thinking and feeling. So, screw the rules, OK?"
"Done!" replied Maddi, sounding as though the rules had already been screwed and sent home with cab fare. "Do I get a hint at what you're planning for tomorrow, Edgar?"
Edgar nodded in approval, noticing the hint of flirtation in Maddox' voice. Obviously, his young suitor had some surprises up his sleeve. "Nope, not a one," said Edgar, "other than that dress is casual. It'll be a surprise and I promise you'll enjoy it. Deal?"
"Deal!" Maddi agreed happily. "You are going to tell me where I'm supposed to meet you though, yes? I love reading, but not minds," he chuckled.
Edgar was smiling, happy to hear Maddi relaxing further. He was even more pleased that he decided to return the call; this was becoming more fun by the minute. "Actually, that's pretty easy. I figured we'd meet at my place and go from there. I'm at the Highland House a few blocks from Altair Station. You know where it is?"
"Oh yeah," Maddi said. "I can see it from my place; I'm on the other side of Gridley Park." He went on to explain, "You're probably wondering how I can afford it. Everybody does when I tell them where I live." Apartments with a Park view were expensive, the type of expensive that usually kept them out of range of tenants Maddi's age, unless they were trust fund babies. "Don't worry; I'm not a spoiled rich kid or anything. Far from it. It's a four-bed unit and I live there with three friends. Two culinary arts students, a model and me. Split four ways, it's the same price as some of the single places I looked at and a much better view."
"Sounds like a sweet deal!" Edgar said. "I don't blame you, either; the view of the Park is amazing from here, too. So, two future chefs, eh? You guys must eat pretty well. Except maybe the model," he chuckled. "They always seem to be on some sort of diet."
"The meals are spectacular," agreed Maddi
. "And yeah, the model - Jameson - usually eats about a quarter of what the rest of us eat. Me, I just got lucky in the metabolism game. I eat like a pig and never gain an ounce. The chefs - Eric and Stan - are a bit rounder in the middle, but they don't mind. It looks good on them."
"Cool," Edgar replied. "I'm a big foodie, too. Also with the killer metabolism. So what do you do, Maddi?"
"I'm a vet tech and I'm working on my veterinary medicine degree," Maddi answered. "It's a busy life, but I like it. I love animals. How about you, Edgar?"
"That's awesome, man," Edgar said. "I like animals, too. Don't have any pets though; my schedule is too unpredictable."
"Yeah, I don't have any either; too busy right now. But I meant, what do you do for a living?" Maddi asked.
"Oh!" Edgar laughed. "Sorry 'bout that. I'm a freelance writer. I also made some smart investments early on, so I have a steady income stream from them. Enough that I don't really have to work, but I need something to do." This was a safe truth to tell, though 'early on' was a couple hundred years ago. And he did do a lot of freelance writing, though he could afford to be very selective about his clients.
"Nice!" said Maddi. "Smart move, Edgar. Maybe you can give some advice someday. When I, uh, actually have money to invest. Right now, it all pretty much goes into school and living."
"Of course it does," said Edgar. "We were all there at one point, me included. I didn't have a lot of free money at nineteen, either. You'll make it. And I'll be glad to give you all the free financial advice you want. Remind me to give you a copy of my feed parameters for financial news; that's a great place to start."
"Great! That's so nice of you," said Maddi. "So, what time tomorrow should I be there? I don't want to rush, but I have to get to work soon."
"No worries," said Edgar. "If it works with your schedule, how about four o'clock?"
"That works," replied Maddi. "I actually have a day off from everything tomorrow, so that's perfect. I'm really looking forward to it."
"Me, too," said Edgar. "Have a great day at work! I'll see you tomorrow."
"Thanks, Edgar! You too," Maddi replied. "See you then! End call."
The HC chimed as the line closed. Edgar sighed and stretched. This interaction was shaping up to be very interesting, indeed. It'd been several decades since Edgar's last real date; instead, he preferred the company of friends, bedmates and himself. Still, something about Maddi intrigued Edgar and his usual response to things that intrigued him was to dive in feet first to explore.
Got another mug full of the Elixir of Life, now to that French toast and bacon. Hell, I think I'll add some scrambled eggs; I'm gonna have some left anyway from dipping the bread. Hmmm... Gonna have to restock before tomorrow night. Given Maddi's sort of shyness, I'm thinking cooking him dinner and just relaxing here would be easier on him. While he looked like a dynamite lay at Wiz' party, conversationally, he was like a fish out of water.
I really want to get to know him, not just sleep with him. He seems like such an interesting guy, I want to see what's what with him. It's not every day that someone piques my interest like that; I'd rather not have to deal with interrupting wait staff and other people around making him tense. He puffed at the party, so that'll help. A good red'll work, too. I don't want him comatose, but relaxed would be good. It's pretty clear, once he does relax, that he's got a quick wit and that he's into me as more than a bedmate.
Breakfast ready and coffee refilled again, Edgar carried the tray to the sofa and sat. He ordered up the morning newscast on vid and the HC quickly complied. He dove into the French toast as the weather report ran. Just as he'd done with the computer feeds, he'd programmed the HC to certain vid channels, this being his favorite for morning news.
The end of the weather report marked the halfway point in Edgar's breakfast. Coverage of a recent magna derailment in Bangkok was up next and Edgar went for more coffee. He just settled back on the sofa when the sports report started. First up, was coverage of last night's fights. He grinned as he stuffed a strip of bacon in his mouth. He knew the results of the Basca-Ruiz match, but he and Sterling were happily occupied during the Andres-Michaels match. He took a drink of coffee and watched as the sportscaster started his analysis of the second match.
"Haha!" Edgar burst out, upon hearing that Andres took the match. Tomas not only got his credits back and the some, but he got bragging rights for the night. Knowing Tomas, he'd made sure to thoroughly exercise those rights at Jon's expense. It was all in good fun, though and Tomas had had his share of suffering Jon's bragging over the years.
Apparently, the bout had been a good one. Edgar almost wished he'd seen it, but had no regrets over missing it in favor of an all-nighter with Sterling. It'd been an even match right up until the ninth round. It looked like it'd be decided on technicalities until mid-way through the ninth. That's when Andres landed a solid uppercut and Michaels flopped like a wet noodle to the mat. It was such a spectacular knock-out that he almost spilled his coffee during the replay.
The room must've fucking exploded after that punch! Damn! Still, the explosions Sterling was giving me were a whole lot better, extremely bad pun intended. I'd almost bet Tomas and Jon sweetened the pot even more after we left the table. Wouldn't surprise me in the least to see Jon at the club shaved bald or with something pierced. Tomas lost such a bet once and spent the next week looking like a prize bull, the nose ring was so big.
Edgar stood, stretched, and headed to the kitchen for a fourth cup. When he got back to the sofa, sports were off and a perky blonde was talking about a new show opening on Broadway. It sounded like a good show, a colonization drama. It interested him, but her overly-animated delivery was like fingernails on a chalkboard. She was a substitute for the usual entertainment reporter who was on maternity leave. Edgar had the HC mute the annoying woman and add a follow-up to his calendar to check into tickets for the show.
He hadn't seen New York City since his last lifetime and had purposely stayed away until he was fairly certain that most of the people he knew there were dead. While he enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple, he was definitely a West Coaster at heart; New York winters tried even his patience.
The hyper-happy blonde was done and Edgar took the news off mute. A staid, grey-haired man began the financial news. Anything reported here would be followed up on through his usual online sources. After five minutes, it was apparent that there was nothing of importance to him. This channel was good, but the computer feed was more specifically tailored to his needs.
He yawned and told the HC to turn off the news. The screen went blank as Edgar rose and took his empty mug to the kitchen. He surveyed the post-breakfast mess with a groan, knowing it had to be dealt with before Maddi arrived the next day. While he loved cooking, he absolutely abhorred the clean-up. He rubbed a hand over his face and decided to do it after a nap.
He padded to the bedroom, more ready for the nap than ever after the huge meal. The HC advised him that it was nine-forty and he told it to wake him at twelve-thirty. He snuggled into the warm comforter and was asleep in minutes. He sighed shortly after falling asleep, lost in a dream of Carnivale in Rio but with Maddi, not Sterling.
The dream was so real when the HC woke him at twelve-thirty he rolled over and reached for Maddi. It took a moment before he fully woke and realized it was just a dream; even so, it made him smile. He enjoyed basking in the warmth of the bed and the dream a moment more, before rising and heading for the bathroom. After he finished, he geared up and left for a run. He planned on cleaning the kitchen and shopping for date-night food after his post-run shower.
As promised by the weatherman, it was an absolutely perfect day outside. Edgar reveled in the feeling of life and promise such a gorgeous day offered. Despite having recently turned 425, he never lost the ability to appreciate this feeling. He didn't know if he could die, but had long ago decided that as long as he felt this good about life, there was no need to find out.
The half hour passed q
uickly, but Edgar was covered in a sheen of sweat by the time he reached the Highland House. Soon, he was lathered up enjoying the pulsing beat of the hot water in the shower. He lingered, letting the jets hit him from multiple angles, easing his muscles from the exertion of his run and the night before. Even for one so fit and healthy, Sterling had given Edgar the ride of his life last night, putting the hungry stud through his paces. He'd been keeping track of the number of positions in which Sterling had fucked him, but lost track in the haze of passion at number seven.
The man had either recently watched some exotic porn or had an even more creative imagination than Edgar previously thought. Some of the positions tested muscles that even Edgar didn't know he had and one in particular felt like something the old Cirque du Soleil troupe would've done back in the day. Either way, Edgar was still feeling the effects and the hot shower was just what the doctor ordered.
He emerged into clouds of steam; the bathroom looking like a sauna. "Clear the steam," he ordered the HC. Seconds later, courtesy of the computer's environmental system, the room was as clear as the sky outside. Edgar dried off using one of the plush towels he loved and ran a comb through his hair. Looking in the mirror, he was once again grateful that he'd shaved the morning that whatever caused his immortality had kicked in; none of his hair, facial or otherwise, grew even a fraction of an inch after that day. It'd been over 400 years since his last shave or haircut.
Once dry, he took the towels to the laundry center, grabbed a tall glass of water and sat at his desk to make a list for the grocery store. He knew Maddi liked meat and not just because he'd spent a lot of time focused on Edgar's at the party. Wiz usually put out hors d'oeuvres at his parties and he's seen Maddi enjoying a slice of meat roll, a deceptive looking tidbit that resembled a cinnamon-swirled pastry. The swirl was actually a thin slice of beef so tender it practically melted in your mouth. The young man had put away half a dozen of them.
Edgar Aeternum, Book 1: Tales of Aeternal Love Page 11
