by Andrew Grey
“Some of these are huge.”
“They’re duplexes. Mine isn’t, though.” He loved his bungalow. He’d been told it was the smallest house on the block, but it was more than enough for him. James got out of the car and walked up the very familiar path to the porch and then up to the front door. He unlocked it and, hearing Trevor behind him, asked, “Would you like some coffee?” He ran through what he had in the house. Mrs. Ledbetter from next door did his shopping for him, and she understood how to put everything away in the same spot all the time so he knew where everything was. She also cleaned for him without moving any of the furniture. “I have some good kinds.”
“That would be nice.” Trevor’s footsteps drew closer, and James went inside, knowing the house so well, he was able to go right through to the kitchen and get what he wanted without thinking about it.
“Just make yourself at home.” He waved toward the living area, hoping Trevor wouldn’t follow him. James’s hand shook a little as he put the first pod in the coffeemaker, and the mugs rattled when he pulled them out. Dang shaking hands. It was just a guy who had been nice enough to bring him home because Lester was a total douchebag idiot. James got the first mug brewing and took it out to Trevor when it was done, then went back for the second mug for himself and brought it to the living room.
“Someone did a lot of work in here.”
James sat in his chair, careful not to spill his drink. “Yeah. The men I bought the house from cleaned the walls, painted, and did the floors and even the kitchen. That was why I bought it. They put a new roof on too.”
“So you live alone?”
“Yeah. It can be strange sometimes. I have to lock the doors even when I’m home because people think the house is empty. I never think to turn on lights because when I do, I forget they’re on.” He sipped from his mug, the warmth working its way all the way to his belly. “I had someone try to break in once. They thought since I was blind, I’d be an easy target. But I have an alarm, and it sent up more noise than a space shuttle. It scared them off, but now I lock everything all the time, and Mrs. Ledbetter comes over every day just to see if I need anything.”
“What do you do for a living?” Trevor drank his coffee, enjoying it also from the sound of it.
“I teach classes to help the blind. Every day people lose their sight. It’s not as many as there used to be, but it does happen, and I teach them how to learn to cope with it.”
“Were you born blind?”
“No. I was ten when I got really sick, and after I got better otherwise, I couldn’t see things as well as I did before. I was a kid and didn’t think anything of it until Mom saw me struggling to read and raced me in to the doctor. Within six months I could only see the brightest lights, and in less than a year, I was blind. I haven’t seen anything since.” James rattled this off without emotion, having accepted the situation a long time ago. “It is the way it is, so once I accepted that I was blind and that I could do just about everything anyone else can do, I decided to help others.” At the time it had seemed like the right decision, and he liked what he did. “It’s rewarding but difficult too.” He sipped some more of his coffee.
“How so?” Trevor’s mug clinked as he set it on the coffee table. James had specifically chosen the glass top because it made noise when people set things on it. Little cues were how he lived his life. Almost everyone else got their information about other people from facial expressions and motions that went with their speech. James missed all that, so he tried to fill his world with as many auditory signals as possible.
“I’m always working with people who are just starting to accept that they’re blind. Imagine going through the coming-out and self-realization process over and over again. When the person I’m helping becomes self-sufficient, they leave, and I start working with someone new. It’s like grieving for the death of the same person every six months because that’s what most of the people I work with are doing. They’re grieving for their sight, and I can’t blame them.” James sighed softly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my work, but lately it’s been….” He searched for the right word and couldn’t come up with it.
“Unfulfilling?”
“Yeah. I guess that’s as good a word as any. I suspect that will change.” James sipped more coffee and sat back in his chair. Now that he was on familiar ground and the space around him wasn’t teeming with people and filled with overlapping noise, he was much more relaxed. Well, as relaxed as he’d allow himself to be with a near stranger sitting in his living room. “What do you do?”
“I’m a mechanic. I own a small chain of shops.”
James loved the sound of Trevor’s voice. It was deep, sort of rich-sounding, and expressive. For a second James’s mind wandered to what he might sound like during sex, but then he pushed that silly notion away. Trevor was being nice to the poor blind guy who had pretty much been abandoned by his so-called friend at a club. Hell, Lester was an idiot, and James was stupid for agreeing to go anywhere with the moron in the first place. “What got you interested in fixing cars?”
“Okay, it’s a long story.” Trevor shifted in his seat, making settling noises. “My mom and dad divorced when I was two. The sperm donor who created me just walked away, and a few years later, my mom remarried. Larry is my stepfather, but I’ve always called him Dad. Anyway, when I was sixteen, my mom died of cancer.”
James frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. Cancer really sucks.”
“Agreed. So my dad wanted me to go to college, but that wasn’t in the cards for me. He owns a garage, and I started working there as soon as I was tall enough to lean over an engine. It was what I wanted to do, so after high school, I told Dad I wanted to work for him. He said no, that I needed to find my own way. But he also said he’d help, so I bought an old garage from the thirties that was two seconds from falling down. I worked on cars during the day and the building at night. Once I tore off everything everyone had done to the place, I found some cool details. Anyway, once the place stopped looking derelict and scary, I got more and more customers, hired some great guys, and we grew the business together. A couple years later, I bought another garage and set up one of my mechanics to run the place. I now have six service stations all over the north side of the city, all run by men who started working for me at that first store. Michaelson’s Service.”
James had never heard of it, but that wasn’t surprising in the least. Unless he made a real effort, a lot of the world passed him by quite easily. His students learned pretty quickly that when they lost their sight, the size of their portion of the world contracted a great deal. “I take it your dad’s pretty proud of you.”
“Yeah. He runs my fourth service station. He sold his garage to me and now he manages that station for me. He wanted to slow down and start to take it easy, so now he does what he likes to do best, which is work on the cars. Three of the stations have special motorcycle service areas, and that portion of the business is growing.”
“Do you ever work on the cars yourself?”
“A little. I still love to do it, but most of my time is now spent on running the business. It’s become a success, so I bought the car you rode in as a present to myself. I have one other, a vintage Corvette that I’m working to bring back from near death, and a Harley that I love to ride.” The slight scrape of the mug on the table told James that Trevor was finishing his coffee. “I should get going.” The springs on the chair shifted a little, and James heard Trevor walk toward the kitchen and then return. “I put my mug in the sink.”
“Thank you for everything.” James put his coffee on the table and stood slowly. “I really appreciate you bringing me home and seeing that I got out of the club okay.” He swallowed, a little nervous.
“You’re welcome.” There was a lilt to his voice, and James imagined Trevor smiling.
“May I?” James asked, raising his hands. He wanted to be able to picture Trevor in his mind.
“Sure.”
James extended his fingers, loca
ting Trevor’s face. His cheeks were stubbly, like he hadn’t shaved for a day, the roughness delicious under his fingers. High cheekbones and a strong jaw flowed beneath his fingers. Trevor had full lips and a straight nose. He was handsome as far as James could feel. He continued upward, running his fingers through Trevor’s short, soft hair. “Thank you.” Reluctantly he pulled his fingers back after trailing them down Trevor’s neck. He wanted to keep going, wondering what Trevor felt like below his collar and beneath his shirt. Being this close to Trevor was heady. The rich, masculine scent with a hint of sweat rolled off him in waves, calling to James like a siren song. He inhaled deeply, letting the testosterone work its magic on him for a few seconds, then stepped back. This man wasn’t for him. He was active, strong, as masculine and hot as they came. Trevor could get any guy he wanted, and he certainly wasn’t going to saddle himself with a guy who couldn’t see. Perfect people with incredible bodies were part of Trevor’s world, not guys like James. He’d found that out the hard way already. “Drive safely.”
“Thank you for the coffee and the conversation.” Again there was a gentle lilt in Trevor’s voice.
James felt Trevor turn, the air shifting slightly around him, and James followed him to the door. “Good night,” Trevor said, and James locked the front door behind him. He went through the house and tested the lights to see if they were on, turning all but one of them off. Then he went to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
Going blind had required many adjustments to his life. Some of them hadn’t made an appearance until years later; at least, James hadn’t initially been aware of them. When he and his family first found out, his time was consumed with trying to learn how to cope. He learned Braille, and his awareness of his other senses gradually increased. James learned to use them to make up for his loss of sight. He got used to listening to the radio and television. Audiobooks became close friends for entertainment. James learned his surroundings and the house, which his parents decluttered. Tables were cleared of knickknacks, and lamps were replaced with ones that were less likely to break when James knocked them over. Some things became very important, like appliances and gadgets that spoke to him. His life shifted from one of sight and color to one of sound, volume, and vocal nuance.
What James hadn’t even realized at first was how massively his world would shrink. His mother went to the grocery store, but James didn’t tag along. It was unfamiliar, and his mother would worry about him and not be able to get done what she needed. His family stopped having parties because James would have to sit in one place the entire night or he’d bump into people. The furniture would inevitably get moved and he’d trip or knock things over. He became self-conscious about eating in public because he made a mess.
For a long time, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to live on his own, but he had managed that two years ago, and it was both good and bad. He was independent and taking care of himself, but it also meant his world had become even smaller. He spent much of his time at home alone, only around people at work, and Mrs. Ledbetter, when she came by. He had a few friends and had been trying to make more, but if Lester was any indication, that effort wasn’t bearing much fruit. It was a fight to expand his world, especially when everything outside his home was unpredictable.
Another thing he hadn’t given much consideration to until he was older was men. He was gay—that became apparent to him pretty quickly, but not to his parents. They hadn’t understood. His mother had actually asked him why it mattered since he couldn’t see. It did. Men smelled different, sounded different, tasted and felt different. He tried to explain things to them because he wanted to make his parents happy, but the attempt was a flop.
He pulled his mind from his wandering thoughts. Men. Trevor had been shiverworthy; more than that, the smell of him had given James a stiffie, and when James touched his face, it had taken all his willpower not to try to pull Trevor closer so he could kiss him. Trevor smelled hot and felt scorching under his fingers. But that didn’t matter.
James squeezed the toothpaste onto his brush and cleaned his teeth. Then he washed his hands and face before stripping out of his clothes in the bedroom and climbing between the sheets. He rolled onto his side and willed sleep to come. Instead, his mind slowly built a picture of Trevor. His didn’t know many things, but he imagined him with black hair, his jaw dark with the stubble that had scratched at his fingers. He also imagined piercing brown eyes and wavy hair. The Trevor he conjured up was tall, broad, and handsome, but rather nebulous. His imagination didn’t require detail; rather, his Trevor was naked and moving toward him, pulling him close until their chests pressed together, his firm hands stroking over James’s shoulders and then down his sides. He longed to be touched like that, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to open up again.
James rolled onto his belly, flexing his hips, the crisp sheets rubbing along his cock. He needed some relief, but messing up his bed wasn’t the way to get it. He rolled over to face upward and groaned. He’d accepted that he was going to likely be alone for the rest of his life and would need people to help him so he could lead as normal a life as possible. That was a lot to ask of anyone, so James figured he’d be on his own. He’d wanted independence and he had it, but now he had to accept all of the things that came with it.
It would have been nice to have been able to find someone to share his bed and his life, but he wasn’t willing to give up his independence to do it. James didn’t need someone to lead him around by the nose. He needed a partner, but he wasn’t sure he was ever going to find one.
Thankfully James didn’t have to work the following morning, because his thoughts continued to plague him for hours. They went in circles, with Trevor occasionally making an appearance. Finally exhaustion took over and James fell asleep, only to wake up to a buzzing near his head.
“Hello,” he said, barely awake.
“It’s Lester.”
“Where are you? Did you make it home okay?” Thank God. Lester might have been a dick for acting like he did, but James didn’t want anything to happen to him.
“I was calling to ask you the same thing. I was out of it pretty good for a while and couldn’t remember taking you home.” Lester groaned.
“I’m fine. I got home hours ago and am in bed.” Lester was a total airhead, and James figured he’d need to write him off as a danger to his safety. At least going out with him was off the table.
“Good. God, I’m never doing that again. I made it home an hour ago and I’m falling asleep, but I wanted to make sure you were okay. That guy I was dancing with said he gave me caffeine because I was yawning. It wasn’t. I’m not sure what it was, but I’m not feeling so well now.” Lester sounded dead on his feet.
“Drink plenty of water and go to bed. You could be dehydrated.”
“I already drank a bottle of water.” His voice trembled a little scared. “My heart is racing and my head feels light and spinny.”
“Have another bottle of water or some juice if you have it in the house,” James said, listening as Lester moved around.
“I have grape juice.”
“Drink a glass and then have some more water. You need to replenish all the fluids you lost.” James was getting more tired by the minute, but he didn’t want to hang up until Lester was feeling better. “Then go to bed with some water nearby.”
“Okay. I’m sorry I ditched you.”
“Trevor brought me home, and he was very nice.”
Lester scoffed, and James wondered what that was about. “He didn’t try to get in your pants? Trevor is a real player. He’s at the club for one thing only, and that’s to get laid.”
“After the fire and everything, he brought me home. I offered him coffee, we talked, he was nice, and then he left. So if he’s a player, then he wasn’t interested in playing with me.” Which wasn’t a surprise or anything. Players weren’t interested in blind guys. “Not that I can blame him. He did let me feel his face so I could know what he looked like. Is h
e as hot as he feels?”
“Yeah, he is. And I have to say, I wouldn’t mind playing with him if he offered. Jet-black hair so dark, there’s almost a hint of blue, and he had that whole perfectly trimmed stubble thing going on. The guy is built like nothing else.”
“That was my assessment as well.” At least his mental picture was pretty close. “Did you get out of the fire okay?”
“That was something else. We got out right away, but I heard there were some guys that the fire department pulled out because they got too much smoke. We didn’t hang around to find out and ended up at the Pink Triangle.” Lester whimpered.
“Is your head less spinny now?” James wanted to make sure Lester was going to be okay. If what he said was true, then Lester had been taken advantage of, and James hoped he was truly all right and whatever he’d been given wasn’t one of those date-rape drugs or something. Though Trevor had seemed to think it was Ecstasy. Who knows? At least Lester was going to be okay.
“Yeah, and I don’t feel as queasy either.”
“Good. Have one more drink of water and go to bed. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” James said good night before putting his phone on the table and going back to a restless sleep.
JAMES WOKE to a stuffy room and reached for the clock next to the bed. “Eleven oh one a.m.,” it said. James groaned as someone pounded on his front door, and then he heard it open.
“James….”
His mother. “I’m just getting up.” He felt like crap and hadn’t even had that much to drink. He pushed back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, then stood slowly before opening his drawers and pulling out a pair of boxers. He slipped them on because he didn’t want his mother to see him naked, and as if on cue, she came into the room and went to his closet.
“We’re going to the club for lunch today, so….” She left the rest unsaid, like he wasn’t capable of dressing himself.
“Don’t move anything.” He tapped her on the shoulder and gently pushed her out of the way as soon as he heard the scrape of hangers. “You know I know where everything is, and the minute you move it, I’m screwed.” She certainly should, but there were times when she wanted to do things her way. “Now put it back exactly the way it was.” He tapped his foot in annoyance and waited. “Is it back?”
