“Oh…ouch,” whispered Connor under his breath.
“Did you have fun anyway?” asked Ian.
I blushed slightly. “This might be a little embarrassing to admit, but I did my best to rub shoulders with him and lean in close every time we stood to cheer for something.”
“Any response from him? Did he do the same?” asked Ian.
I said, “He didn’t back away.”
Blake interrupted and said, “I have an idea.”
We all turned to face him. I said, “I’m not breaking a leg to attract him like you did when you met Ian.”
“I did that for Ian? I don’t think that was for Ian,” said Blake. “There are limits.”
I chuckled and said, “I’m just joking, but do you have an idea? I thought about asking him out on a real date, but I wasn’t sure that seemed right after we just went to the game as friends hanging out.”
Blake said, “Yeah. How’s the stuff coming along with your house, Sven? I know you said you were having some frustration with the contractor guy. Are there things that you could do with the help of one other person?”
I nodded my head yes and said, “There is a ton of work that two guys could get done together. There is the replacement of the bannister on the staircase, some fairly simple plumbing work in the kitchen, and hanging the new mirror I bought to replace the cracked one in the bathroom.”
“There you go.” Blake leaned back in his chair and said, “My work is done.”
* * *
I was eager to see Lowell again at the next softball practice. I couldn’t deny any longer that I was still interested in him. At the baseball game, he was a perfect gentleman to me, and we kept exchanging what others would call stolen glances. I looked at those big biceps and wondered what they would feel like wrapped around me.
When he left to get us each burgers, I couldn’t wait for him to come back and sit down beside me. Like I told the other guys, when we stood up to cheer extra-base hits by the Brewers, I leaned against Lowell while we cheered. Our shoulders touched. Lowell’s body was thick and sturdy. I liked that.
He was already at practice when I arrived. I wasn’t surprised to find him in the outfield tossing a ball back and forth with Antonio. I tried to not laugh too hard when he turned to look at me, and Antonio didn’t notice that he’d turned away. The softball bounced off Lowell’s shoulder, and then I heard a loud shriek of an “Ooops!” from Antonio.
After a withering glance at Antonio, Lowell gestured for me to join them. I jogged directly up to him and held up a hand to try and ward off any other errant throws from Antonio.
Lowell looked at me with a questioning gaze. “What’s up, Sven?” he asked.
I smiled and bounced back and forth from one foot to the other. I said, “Oh, nothing is wrong at all.” I asked, “Are you doing anything Friday night?”
I could see his body tense slightly, and he looked about as nervous as I felt. In a soft voice, he said, “I don’t think I have anything going on. Did you have something in mind?”
That’s when I suddenly realized I was about to invite him to my house. There was a lot more at my house other than the projects that needed completing. There was a couch and a bedroom and a bed. I instantly wondered if Blake had an ulterior motive in mind when he suggested teaming up on fix-it projects. Unfortunately, I was already stuck careening down the path I chose.
Cursing Blake in the back of my mind, I said, “I was wondering if you might be willing to come over and help me with a few projects on the house.”
Lowell’s eyes widened. He asked, “At your house?”
I scrunched up my face in confusion. That seemed like an odd question, but he was probably as flummoxed as me. I said, “Yeah, my house. I’ll buy you a beer.” I paused and then added, “Or even three.”
Lowell grinned. He said, “Yeah, I’d love to come over. I’m not the most skilled handyman in the world, but I’ll do what I can. Just tell me what time.”
6
Lowell
I was nervous. That’s an unusual sensation for me. Usually, I’m so jaded that I can’t muster enough energy to feel nervous about something, but Sven was a different matter. He was a handsome man, and he was a nice one, too. His friendliness was genuine and completely lacking in artifice. I wanted to spend more time with him. I wanted to hang out, and I wanted to see what his lips tasted like. Butterflies were taking flight in my gut.
Unfortunately, while getting dressed to meet him at his house, I was a mess. I tried on three different outfits before I settled on conservative and slightly dressy. I didn’t have many outfits that fit that description. I was usually comfortable in jeans and T-Shirts. I had three complete outfits I rotated through for my retail work. For Sven, I tried to reach a balance between the two.
I know that it wasn’t really a date, but I was treating it like one. The day before, I got my hair cut. Then I drove past his house using the address he sent in a text message. From the street, the house looked like a tidy little bungalow matching the other homes on the street. I did notice a gutter hanging partially detached along one side of the house. I couldn’t wait to work with Sven on a tangible project. I hoped that it would lead to other forms of collaboration.
Sven offered me a bro hug at the door. I tried to pull my arm out from between us, but he was too quick. I said, “Hey, good to see you, Sven. The house looks good from the street.”
He laughed and said, “Yeah, that facade hides a lot of secret sins.”
There was something so guilelessly sexy about that comment. I know that he was talking about problems with the house, but I could feel a tingling sensation race up my spine and then to my cock. Self-consciously, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.
Soon, Sven had me using a heavy padded mallet to knock the remains of his patio roof apart into manageable pieces that could be safely hauled away. Once we had the brick patio cleared, I stood at one corner and stared back at the house. I said, “Do you really think the two of us have the talent to construct something like this.”
He said, “I’m not really sure, but I thought it was worth consulting with somebody else. I’m pretty cautious when it comes to this kind of work.”
In addition to the manual labor, Sven took me on a tour of the inside of the house. He had good taste in decorating. He had a significant number of smaller items placed on shelves and side tables, but no rooms were overwhelmed by bric-a-brac. Instead, I got the feeling of being inside a home owned by a man with traditional, but not exactly conservative tastes. The occasional sculpture of nude men or particular parts of male bodies dispensed with the conservative notion.
Upstairs, Sven gestured toward a closed door and said, “That’s my bedroom.” I thought I saw the arm shake slightly and heard his voice quaver. However, it’s possible that was all wishful thinking on my part.
When the tour ended, Sven asked, “Are you hungry?”
I was hungry for something in particular, but I don’t think that’s what Sven was talking about. My stomach was also rumbling, too. It was nearly 8:00 p.m. I said, “Yeah, a little. Should we go out somewhere?”
He asked, “Do you like pizza? We could just order in. Maybe we could turn the TV on and find something to watch while we eat.”
His suggestion sounded much cozier than going out to any nearby restaurant. I jumped on it and said, “That sounds great, Sven. I eat anything but onions and anchovies on my pizza.”
His face fell. He said, “Oh, man, my favorite is anchovies, onions, and a big dose of black olives.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard anyone order a pizza like that.”
He gave me a mischievous grin and said, “I got you. I was just joking. I usually order pepperoni and sausage.”
At that moment, I wanted to wrestle him down on to the couch and smother him with a kiss, but I continued to wait for my perfect opportunity to make a real move.
Sven settled close to me on the couch, and he had a one-button opt
ion on his phone for ordering pizza. After he placed the order, he picked up the remote control and began to surf through channels and premium services. Finally, he settled on an exotic travel show.
I said, “You aren’t going to tell me that’s what you really want to watch.”
He asked, “Why? I love to travel. Don’t you?”
I said, “Of course I do. I just don’t know any other people that want to watch shows about it on TV. My gay friends usually want to talk about fashion shows, drag queens, cooking, or re-runs of creaky old shows with campy women. Someday I’m going to go to all those exotic places on travel shows.”
Sven replied, “Take me with you.”
I wrapped my arms partway around Sven’s waist and pushed my face close to his neck while he grimaced as the host on TV ate some odd concoction with what looked like a form of worm and unfamiliar seafood.
Unfortunately, about thirty seconds later Sven’s doorbell rang. The pizza arrived.
When he set the pizza box down on the coffee table, Sven said, “Damn, I forgot to order anything to drink. Do you want a beer, Coke, water?”
I said, “Coke will work fine.”
Less than five minutes later he returned with tall glasses filled with ice and coke as well as small plates, forks and napkins. As he handed me a plate, Sven said, “This is fun. It’s great being friends again.”
I let the comment hang in the air while I placed two slices of pizza on my plate. He said friends. I wondered if that really was his goal. I wondered if he thought our relationship should stop there.
I said, “Thanks for inviting me over.” Then I leaned back against the couch and brought the pepperoni and sausage to my mouth while I watched the travel host eat something much more peculiar on the TV screen.
While the pizza quickly disappeared from the box, I tried to think of what might happen next. I could excuse myself and return home happy with getting a little bit closer to Sven. I could hang out for an hour or two longer and see if I could turn the TV watching into more of a cuddling session. Then a better idea came to me.
I asked Sven, “Have you ever gone to the beach after dark?”
Sven wiped the pizza grease from his fingers with a napkin and said, “I’ve been to festivals out along Lake Michigan after dark, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually been on the beach.”
My eyes opened wider. I held on to the pizza plate with one hand and then spread my other arm out in front of me. Sweeping my hand from right to left, I said, “It’s great, Sven. The beach is so beautiful after dark, and it’s completely different from during the day. You can see the light from the moon reflecting off the waves, and sometimes the water looks more like ink than water.”
I tried to figure out if Sven had real curiosity or if he was getting ready to dismiss my idea when he asked, “Are you wanting to do that tonight?”
I set my plate down inside the nearly empty pizza box and said, “Yeah, why not? It’s a cool night out, but it’s not cold. I know a great place to go. It’s up north of the city, but it’s only a twenty minute drive. One of my friends’ parents have a house up there and their own private beach property.”
Sven asked, “They don’t care if you’re there after dark?”
I shook my head and said, “No, they don’t mind at all. Anyway, the house is up on the bluff, and there is no way you can see the beach from the house. They won’t even know we’re there.”
I could see any resistance beginning to crumble. Sven said, “It sounds a little bit exciting.”
I said, “I’ll help you clean up the pizza, and then I can drive us up north. The moon is nearly full tonight, and there isn’t much wind. It will be beautiful, Sven.”
He laughed and said, “You are persuasive. Okay, let’s go. Should we let anyone else know that we’re going out there? Just for safety reasons?”
I said, “We can leave a note here on the coffee table if you want to. Just in case.”
I piled dishes into Sven’s dishwasher while he scribbled a note. I grabbed him as he walked into the kitchen and gave him a real hug before he could stop me. I said, “It is really fun getting to know you again.”
* * *
With the car parked about two blocks away from the home owned by the parents of my old friend Richard, we picked our way down along the southern property line. I visited the small beach with Richard many times when we were just teenagers. The path was overgrown, and it was clear it wasn’t used much anymore. I tried to pull vegetation out of the way to clear the path for Sven.
He clung to my shirt and whispered, “Are you sure about this? It’s not trespassing is it?”
I said, “No, if anybody finds us, I’ll just start talking about Richard and explain everything to them. Richard and I did this all the time when we were kids. The first time we came down here, Richard explained that they have really strong security up close to the house, but going down the property line here and down to the beach, we avoid it.”
Sven stopped moving for a moment when I said, the words “strong security.” I turned around and asked, “Do you trust me on that? I wouldn’t put you in danger. I’ve only really done something illegal one time, and I was just ten years old.”
Sven stopped moving. He whispered, “What was that?”
Shaking my head, I said, “I got caught shoplifting candy from the local drug store. They made it a big issue, but I was just doing what a bunch of other kids in my neighborhood were doing. I just wasn’t sophisticated enough to avoid getting caught.”
It was dark out, but I could see Sven take three big deep breaths in quick succession. He whispered, “Okay, let’s keep going.”
We slipped a couple of times scrambling down the path from the top of the bluff to the beach. Once I pushed Sven hard against the ground to stop us both from sliding. I asked, “Are you okay, Sven?”
I saw a glint of moonlight in his blue eyes, and then he asked, “Is it okay to think this is sort of fun? I feel a little like I’m in a movie or TV show searching for a secret clue.”
Smiling, I gingerly picked my way down the rest of the way to the beach. Sven clung to me and followed right behind. The beach was narrow at that point, but there was still about twenty feet of hard-packed damp sand between the bluff wall and the lake.
I walked up to the edge of the water and looked out over the waves. Then I looked up into the sky to see a bright, nearly full moon in a cloudless sky. Sven was on my shoulder and said, “It really is beautiful. Thank you, Lowell.”
I asked, “Do you want to go for a swim?”
Sven said, “I didn’t bring trunks, and it’s a little cold out.”
I said, “That’s what makes it even more of an adventure. Just shuck off those clothes, Sven, and follow me in.”
“I don’t know, Lowell. I really don’t…”
His voice faded as I turned around. I said, “Have you ever done it before? Shouldn’t you give swimming naked a try? It’s one of those bucket list things.”
I watched him look north along the beach and then south. The beach faced east and was only about fifty feet from north to south. It ended in piles of boulders in each direction. Finally, Sven said, “Okay, but I’m feeling sort of crazy. Has anyone ever called you a bad influence, Lowell?”
I grinned and said, “All the time.”
I kicked off my sneakers, tugged off my jeans and then stripped off my T-Shirt and piled them neatly on the sand. Finally, I pulled off my underwear. I could feel Sven’s eyes on me, and it made me excited. I turned and jogged the few steps across the sand until I felt the cold water swirl up around my waist.
Sven whispered, “Crazy,” while he slowly stripped, too. His body was just as amazing in the moonlight as I imagined. It was smooth with sculpted pecs and abs. Sven splashed when he joined me in the water.
I said, “Shhh…you’re gonna wake up in the neighborhood.”
He turned in a circle to look all around and whispered, “What? I thought you said no one would know…
”
I reached out to grab Sven and wrap him in my arms from behind. I whispered in his ear and said, “It’s perfectly safe, and I think this is hot. Don’t you?”
He was shivering, but I felt him start to relax as the warmth contained in our bodies eased the cool impact of the water. He turned around to face me. I was surprised to hear the next comment out of his mouth.
He said, “I waited for you, too.”
7
Sven
Skinny dipping in Lake Michigan wasn’t the only crazy thing I did with Lowell. I thought he might kiss me after he wrapped his arms around me, but he didn’t. He just held me tight. It felt good. It felt really good. Thinking back, I guess perhaps I should have made a move, but something held me back. I wasn’t quite sure what it was.
The next Monday while I was working in my office, I received a text from Lowell that asked if I liked bowling. I was startled that he would even ask. I considered the ability to bowl and enjoying the game was a birthright growing up in the upper Midwest whether Wisconsin or Minnesota. I sent back a message that said:
Of course!
We decided to get together that night and go bowling, but it turned into an unexpected adventure. I didn’t know that Milwaukee contained the oldest certified bowling alley in the country. It was only two lanes, and the pins were set up by kids making a few bucks in a part-time job.
We were the only two people bowling. We had nowhere to sit, and we had to keep score with paper and pencil, but it was great fun. As Lowell bowled a strike with the very first ball, I asked, “Are you a professional?”
He laughed and said, “No, I just had a lot of experience being away from home when I was a kid. Home wasn’t very quiet, and there were a lot of arguments, so I found things to do away from home when I could. Bowling was one of them. Sometimes I went with friends, and sometimes I just went on my own.”
Always Waiting: The League, Book 3 Page 4
