fansee (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} fansee) wrote,@ 2009-09-02 21:17:00 |
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Ten Tremont - Chapter 11
chering and I thought Chapters 11 through 15 were lost when her laptop crashed last year. I recently sorted out my hard drive and, lo and behold, they were there. (It was a much-needed sort-out!)
The story continues as Marc and Adrian entertain a houseguest.
I was sitting on my birthday couch (as I think of it) with my back against one arm and my legs stretched out across the cushions. My laptop was open, and I was supposedly working on a grant proposal for a German company, Bremerin Pharmaceuticals. What I was really doing was fretting about how Adrian and his brother were getting along.
Jeff Lantz is Adrian’s next oldest brother and our houseguest this weekend. One of his high school buddies is getting married tomorrow night, and Jeff asked if he could crash here. Of course we said yes; what else could we say? Adrian spent the intervening week between Jeff’s call and last night fidgeting around the apartment and worrying silently. Or mostly silently.
Jeff is two years older than Adrian and was his chief tormenter through his adolescence. They’ve made their peace now that they’re adults – or what passes for adult, in Jeff’s case - but I could tell from comments Adrian has made that it’s a fragile truce.
Jeff flew in from Grand Rapids last night after work and got here just in time to drop off his suit and over-night bag and rush out to the bachelor party. He’s about the same height as Adrian…almost six feet…but probably out-weighs him by 25 or 30 pounds. Not fat…yet…but getting there. He has a deep baritone voice, unlike Adrian’s sweet tenor, and a laugh best described as a cackle. The brothers barely had time for a quick embrace – no kissing – and, “Hi, how are you?” “Looking good, bro,” and “Don’t lose the key,” before Jeff was out the door.
Adrian and I watched a couple of movies, drank some wine, had some crackers and cheese, and then I took him to bed and fucked him until he relaxed enough to sleep. We both slept until about 4:30 a.m. when the buzzer went off. Remember the key? Yeah, Jeff couldn’t find it. So we buzzed him into the building – only took three tries before he managed to coordinate opening the door with the buzzer – and then we waited at the door to let him in.
The elevator door opened and there we were, across the hall and down a bit from a very inebriated Jeff, Adrian in his sweats, me in my tightie-whities. Adrain had his arm draped around my shoulder, and I was leaning against him. Jeff blinked at us and said, “Whoa!”
Adrian flinched and tried to pull away, but I wrapped my arm around his waist and held on. I smiled at Jeff and said, “Need some help?”
“’M okay.”
“Good. The couch is all made up. Come on in.”
The two of us got Jeff’s shoes, shirt and jeans off without too much trouble, Adrian shepherded him into the bathroom, and then we both assisted him back to the couch and left him to sleep it off. We went back to bed, and this time it was Adrian who provided the sleep therapy. It worked on me, anyway, and when I woke up at 6:30, he was sound asleep. It was my turn to worry.
Adrian got up a little before 9:00; we could hear Jeff snoring on the couch. Adrian said, “I’m thinking that when Jeff recovers a little, he may want to talk to me alone. I thought I’d take him to breakfast at The Pancake House, then to the Duquesne Incline. Can’t visit Pittsburgh without going on the Incline. He’ll have plenty of time to ask me any questions or say whatever’s on his mind.”
“Would you rather I go with you? I will.”
“I don’t think he’s ready for that yet. I’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t so sure, but Adrian’s an adult. He gets to make his own decisions.
Jeff staggered out of bed and into the bathroom about 10:30. I had coffee waiting for him when he came out, and he sat at the table with us, squinting at the light, and drank it down. Adrian explained his plans for the day, ending up by saying, “We’ll get back about 3:30, 4:00. That will give you time to get dressed and get to the Country Club around 6:00.”
“Might even have time for a drink before you leave,” I said.
Jeff winced, but he said, “I hope so.”
I know Adrian well enough to realize he was tense, but I doubt anyone else…let alone Jeff…would understand that he’s never this quiet nor does he usually drink four cups of coffee in the morning. I knew, however, and after they left, I couldn’t settle down to anything. That's when I decided that if I got comfortable, I might be able to work on the cover letter for my grant proposal.
I hadn’t made much progress when a movement across the alley caught my eye. I sat up straighter. Justin was just slamming the loft door shut, and he had someone with him: a petite, little girl. Justin is short…shorter than I am, according to Adrian…and I’m no giant among men, but this girl was half a head shorter than he is. She had some kind of a scarf-thingie holding down a mane of curly hair and was dressed in what looked to me…far removed from adolescent styles…like standard teenage gear: jeans and a short, bright blue jacket over some kind of a blue top.
I turned back to the desk and grabbed the binoculars. Thank you, Adrian, for leaving them out so conveniently.
Justin began giving his friend…let’s call her Missy…a real estate agent’s tour of the apartment. I saw him wave at something I couldn’t see, then he waved to the big TV, something near the TV (couldn’t make it out), a chair, and – I think – the coffee table. Missy seemed suitably impressed…and why not? If Brian’s furniture impresses Adrian, who knows what he’s looking at, it should impress a 15 or 16-year-old.
Then they walked around a corner and alongside the sleeping area when…O my God!… one panel slid open, and the children got an eyeful of Brian, full frontal and gorgeous. Missy’s mouth dropped open…I wondered if she’d ever seen a naked man before…and Justin’s face lit up like the Fourth of July. Brian looked angry.
Missy turned away while Justin walked around and up the steps to talk to Brian face-to-face. (Missy was still stealing glances since Brian hadn’t moved. She was pretty composed for a kid, considering the circumstances.)
Brian and Justin had a shortish conversation while Missy (probably) eaves-dropped. At first, Justin was confident and smiling, but Brian got steadily more annoyed. Finally his face was inches away from Justin’s and I could tell he was yelling, his face contorted and angry. Give the kid credit. He never flinched. Instead he said something back that made Brian turn and go back into the bedroom. Meanwhile, I’m thinking, Wait until I tell Adrian about this! This’ll get his mind off Jeff and his fucking visit.
Justin came back down the steps and started talking to Missy, a serious expression on his face…serious but not cowed. She replied but before she could say much, Brian reappeared in the opening, doing up a pair of tight black jeans. He said something, Justin grinned, and Missy shook her head. I wondered what question Brian could possibly have for her. I thought, I’d bet money this is their first encounter…one she’ll never forget.
The two kids went to the refrigerator. I focused my binoculars in on its contents. While there wasn’t much in the door, Missy reached all the way in and came out with a bottle of juice. (Couldn’t tell what kind.) She got a glass out of the cupboard and filled it half-way up while she and Justin talked cheerfully. Apparently the storm had passed.
The juice was for Brian, of course. He was obviously on his way out somewhere: he now had a leather jacket on over a brown T-shirt. There was some three-way banter as he drank his juice, he put on a pair of dark sunglasses, and picked up a bag…maybe a gym bag? Could be. Another exchange or two, with Justin looking up with his heart in his eyes, then Brian leaned over and kissed Missy on the cheek. As Brian exited, stage left, both kids were grinning from ear to ear and I’d be willing to bet more money that Missy was squealing. Brian is anybody’s wet dream.
Justin and Missy disappeared up the steps into the bedroom, where Missy probably got to inspect come-stained sheets, and I sat on my couch and grinned from ear-to-ear to myself. Y’know, sometimes Adrian is right about the damnedest things. We should have paid a premium for this place, considering the great view. Wait’ll I tell him about this morning’s entertainment! He’ll be kicking himself for missing out.
Go to Chapter 12.
chering and I thought Chapters 11 through 15 were lost when her laptop crashed last year. I recently sorted out my hard drive and, lo and behold, they were there. (It was a much-needed sort-out!) The story continues as Marc and Adrian entertain a houseguest.
I was sitting on my birthday couch (as I think of it) with my back against one arm and my legs stretched out across the cushions. My laptop was open, and I was supposedly working on a grant proposal for a German company, Bremerin Pharmaceuticals. What I was really doing was fretting about how Adrian and his brother were getting along.
Jeff Lantz is Adrian’s next oldest brother and our houseguest this weekend. One of his high school buddies is getting married tomorrow night, and Jeff asked if he could crash here. Of course we said yes; what else could we say? Adrian spent the intervening week between Jeff’s call and last night fidgeting around the apartment and worrying silently. Or mostly silently.
Jeff is two years older than Adrian and was his chief tormenter through his adolescence. They’ve made their peace now that they’re adults – or what passes for adult, in Jeff’s case - but I could tell from comments Adrian has made that it’s a fragile truce.
Jeff flew in from Grand Rapids last night after work and got here just in time to drop off his suit and over-night bag and rush out to the bachelor party. He’s about the same height as Adrian…almost six feet…but probably out-weighs him by 25 or 30 pounds. Not fat…yet…but getting there. He has a deep baritone voice, unlike Adrian’s sweet tenor, and a laugh best described as a cackle. The brothers barely had time for a quick embrace – no kissing – and, “Hi, how are you?” “Looking good, bro,” and “Don’t lose the key,” before Jeff was out the door.
Adrian and I watched a couple of movies, drank some wine, had some crackers and cheese, and then I took him to bed and fucked him until he relaxed enough to sleep. We both slept until about 4:30 a.m. when the buzzer went off. Remember the key? Yeah, Jeff couldn’t find it. So we buzzed him into the building – only took three tries before he managed to coordinate opening the door with the buzzer – and then we waited at the door to let him in.
The elevator door opened and there we were, across the hall and down a bit from a very inebriated Jeff, Adrian in his sweats, me in my tightie-whities. Adrain had his arm draped around my shoulder, and I was leaning against him. Jeff blinked at us and said, “Whoa!”
Adrian flinched and tried to pull away, but I wrapped my arm around his waist and held on. I smiled at Jeff and said, “Need some help?”
“’M okay.”
“Good. The couch is all made up. Come on in.”
The two of us got Jeff’s shoes, shirt and jeans off without too much trouble, Adrian shepherded him into the bathroom, and then we both assisted him back to the couch and left him to sleep it off. We went back to bed, and this time it was Adrian who provided the sleep therapy. It worked on me, anyway, and when I woke up at 6:30, he was sound asleep. It was my turn to worry.
Adrian got up a little before 9:00; we could hear Jeff snoring on the couch. Adrian said, “I’m thinking that when Jeff recovers a little, he may want to talk to me alone. I thought I’d take him to breakfast at The Pancake House, then to the Duquesne Incline. Can’t visit Pittsburgh without going on the Incline. He’ll have plenty of time to ask me any questions or say whatever’s on his mind.”
“Would you rather I go with you? I will.”
“I don’t think he’s ready for that yet. I’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t so sure, but Adrian’s an adult. He gets to make his own decisions.
Jeff staggered out of bed and into the bathroom about 10:30. I had coffee waiting for him when he came out, and he sat at the table with us, squinting at the light, and drank it down. Adrian explained his plans for the day, ending up by saying, “We’ll get back about 3:30, 4:00. That will give you time to get dressed and get to the Country Club around 6:00.”
“Might even have time for a drink before you leave,” I said.
Jeff winced, but he said, “I hope so.”
I know Adrian well enough to realize he was tense, but I doubt anyone else…let alone Jeff…would understand that he’s never this quiet nor does he usually drink four cups of coffee in the morning. I knew, however, and after they left, I couldn’t settle down to anything. That's when I decided that if I got comfortable, I might be able to work on the cover letter for my grant proposal.
I hadn’t made much progress when a movement across the alley caught my eye. I sat up straighter. Justin was just slamming the loft door shut, and he had someone with him: a petite, little girl. Justin is short…shorter than I am, according to Adrian…and I’m no giant among men, but this girl was half a head shorter than he is. She had some kind of a scarf-thingie holding down a mane of curly hair and was dressed in what looked to me…far removed from adolescent styles…like standard teenage gear: jeans and a short, bright blue jacket over some kind of a blue top.
I turned back to the desk and grabbed the binoculars. Thank you, Adrian, for leaving them out so conveniently.
Justin began giving his friend…let’s call her Missy…a real estate agent’s tour of the apartment. I saw him wave at something I couldn’t see, then he waved to the big TV, something near the TV (couldn’t make it out), a chair, and – I think – the coffee table. Missy seemed suitably impressed…and why not? If Brian’s furniture impresses Adrian, who knows what he’s looking at, it should impress a 15 or 16-year-old.
Then they walked around a corner and alongside the sleeping area when…O my God!… one panel slid open, and the children got an eyeful of Brian, full frontal and gorgeous. Missy’s mouth dropped open…I wondered if she’d ever seen a naked man before…and Justin’s face lit up like the Fourth of July. Brian looked angry.
Missy turned away while Justin walked around and up the steps to talk to Brian face-to-face. (Missy was still stealing glances since Brian hadn’t moved. She was pretty composed for a kid, considering the circumstances.)
Brian and Justin had a shortish conversation while Missy (probably) eaves-dropped. At first, Justin was confident and smiling, but Brian got steadily more annoyed. Finally his face was inches away from Justin’s and I could tell he was yelling, his face contorted and angry. Give the kid credit. He never flinched. Instead he said something back that made Brian turn and go back into the bedroom. Meanwhile, I’m thinking, Wait until I tell Adrian about this! This’ll get his mind off Jeff and his fucking visit.
Justin came back down the steps and started talking to Missy, a serious expression on his face…serious but not cowed. She replied but before she could say much, Brian reappeared in the opening, doing up a pair of tight black jeans. He said something, Justin grinned, and Missy shook her head. I wondered what question Brian could possibly have for her. I thought, I’d bet money this is their first encounter…one she’ll never forget.
The two kids went to the refrigerator. I focused my binoculars in on its contents. While there wasn’t much in the door, Missy reached all the way in and came out with a bottle of juice. (Couldn’t tell what kind.) She got a glass out of the cupboard and filled it half-way up while she and Justin talked cheerfully. Apparently the storm had passed.
The juice was for Brian, of course. He was obviously on his way out somewhere: he now had a leather jacket on over a brown T-shirt. There was some three-way banter as he drank his juice, he put on a pair of dark sunglasses, and picked up a bag…maybe a gym bag? Could be. Another exchange or two, with Justin looking up with his heart in his eyes, then Brian leaned over and kissed Missy on the cheek. As Brian exited, stage left, both kids were grinning from ear to ear and I’d be willing to bet more money that Missy was squealing. Brian is anybody’s wet dream.
Justin and Missy disappeared up the steps into the bedroom, where Missy probably got to inspect come-stained sheets, and I sat on my couch and grinned from ear-to-ear to myself. Y’know, sometimes Adrian is right about the damnedest things. We should have paid a premium for this place, considering the great view. Wait’ll I tell him about this morning’s entertainment! He’ll be kicking himself for missing out.