The Gardener (Part 8)

[Reeza]

Author's Note: In the world of Adam and Sam, it's still the leisurely Memorial Day weekend. This is a longer chapter that covers the entire Sunday. I considered breaking it up into shorter parts, but it flows from morning to nighttime, so please give yourself enough time to read this all the way through. It's an eventful day.


The Gardener
by Reeza

Parts 1 and 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7

Part 8

I heard church bells ringing when I woke up on the couch. It was the Catholic church that sat high on a hill in the middle of town. My parents were members there, but I stopped going during my first year of college and never went back. I liked the bells, though, and the neo-gothic building capped off the picture perfect view of the town. I sat up, saw the bright blue screen on the television, and reached for the remote to turn it off. I vaguely recalled a disturbing dream I had during the night - something about being chased. I stood up and thought about looking for Sam.

I went to the kitchen and started the coffee maker while thinking about what I wanted to get done during the next two days. Sam had both days off, so I needed to think about groceries and cooking as well. First I would need to get the mulch out of the bed of my truck. I wondered if Sam was awake yet, so I opened the back door and noticed that the side of the garage where he kept his weights was open. Maybe he was working out. Then again, maybe a burglar had visited during the night. I decided to check. As I walked across the driveway I called out, "Sam?" I heard a deep thunk and felt a surprising vibration through my feet.

"Yeah!" he responded, "I'm in here!"

I approached the open door, but with the morning sun in my eyes I couldn't see inside the dark garage. Sam came to the doorway wearing a snug tank top I had never seen before. It displayed his . . . "HOLY SHIT! Your arms are huge!" I blurted. I couldn't stop myself.

He crossed his arms to cover his biceps with his hands. "They're just pumped up right now because I was lifting," he said with a bashful glance at the ground. "Do you need me to do something?"

"No . . . I mean, yes, but . . . I didn't mean to interrupt your workout." I was staring at him without reserve.

"It's okay, I'm done. What do you need?" He kept his hands over his arms, but they couldn't conceal the swollen, twitching collection of muscles.

I wasn't thinking about yard work. I cautiously asked him, "Sam . . . are you embarrassed by your . . . muscles?" I couldn't think of a euphemism. I wanted to say, "your godlike body."

"I just don't like to show off." He was squirming.

"You're not, but . . . most guys would be proud." I was mystified.

"I'm not used to it. It makes me uncomfortable. Could we . . . not talk about this?" His face was beet red.

"Sorry! I'm sorry . . . I, uh . . . what did I come out here for? Oh, yeah! I was wondering if you could unload the mulch from the truck. Not right this minute . . . whenever you're ready to start." I told him how to do it and where to put it. He nodded, and I went back into the house to relieve his embarrassment. Sam was an enigma.

I was torn between answering the call of my swollen crotch and trying to figure out why Sam reacted that way. I took the high road, poured myself a cup of coffee, and pondered the situation. When the caffeine started to kick in, it gradually dawned on me. It's my fault! He thought I was coming out there to leer at him! When I commented on his muscles it just reinforced his fears. Dammit, Adam, you're a pervert and an idiot! Not a good combination! I put my head down on the table and let my inner voice punish me for a while. Then I decided I would find a way to reassure Sam later in the day.

I ate breakfast, washed up and brushed my teeth before going outside. Sam was just sweeping out the bed of my truck after unloading the mulch. He had changed into a t-shirt that must have been a very large size because it was baggy on him. The sleeves came down to his elbows, but his muscularity was still apparent. Of course I didn't comment. "Thanks for doing that, Sam. It's great to have your help around here."

"You're welcome. I feel lucky to be here." He sounded sincere, as always.

"So, do you want to continue working on the shed today? I'm gonna be weeding and top dressing the flower beds."

"Okay. Do you have the paint for the shed, because I'll probably need it later today after I do some repairs."

"I . . . don't know why I didn't think of that. Maybe we should run out and get some before we do anything else." We had to go to Home Depot because it was the only place open on a Sunday. Dave would forgive me as long as we didn't go to their garden department. I locked up the house and we headed out in the truck.

Sam was kind of quiet at first, but not for long. "I started reading Tess of the d'Urbervilles. I like it."

"Yeah? I actually watched the film version of it last night while you were at work. How far did you get?"

"I just finished the part where her baby dies. It's sad so far, but I like the way he writes. It made me think about my life on the farm. Hey, do you think Tess wanted to have sex with Alec, or do you think he raped her? It wasn't really clear, was it?"

"Hmm. I remember having this discussion in my English Lit class in college. I said it was rape, but a lot of the women in my class thought she wanted him to seduce her. That surprised me. I think because he was wealthy and she was poor, and she worked on his estate, he took advantage of her. That's rape in my book."

"I know what you're saying, but there was a lot that went on before that. That scene where she eats the strawberry from his hand? I think she wanted him. Sometimes people want something but they don't want to admit it, right?"

I paused to think. Are we still talking about the book? I chose not to answer his question, but said, "I'll be interested to hear what you think at the end of the story." We were pulling into the parking lot at Home Depot.

When we got to the paint department I asked about their best quality exterior latex. We looked at colors and chose something that would complement the house rather than trying to match it, along with two additional colors to highlight the architectural details of the shed. We also picked up a quart of black enamel for the weather vane.

While I was waiting with Sam for our paint to be mixed, something odd happened. Two neatly dressed older gentlemen who were shopping together looked at Sam, then at me, and then smiled and nodded at me. I didn't acknowledge them because I had never seen them before. They must have thought I was someone else. I hate strangers.

On our way toward the front of the store we saw barbecue grills and patio furniture. Sam pointed to a nice table and chair set and said, "You should have something like that in the middle of the yard for when you have guests." I was mystified. He had me going for a minute but he didn't keep a straight face for long. He grinned. "I'm just giving you a hard time." He affectionately bumped his fist against my shoulder.

"Wow. You're funny," I said sarcastically. "I could have guests." I tested one of the patio chairs. He sat in a big wicker armchair and looked very good in it.

"Really? Like who?"

Dammit! "Like, friends . . . from work."

"You have friends at work?"

"One . . . maybe."

"Oh? What's his name?"

"Her name is Donna. And just the other day she was telling me about all the people who are interested in me and wanted me to come to their barbecues this weekend."

Now Sam was genuinely curious. "You had invitations? Why aren't you going?"

I paused to consider what size lie to tell. I stalled: "It's not like anyone thought I would actually come. They just invite everybody."

"So who's interested in you?"

"Uff! It's stupid! I shouldn't have brought it up."

"C'mon! Tell me!"

"Ach! Donna said these two women were arguing over who would get a date with me first. And . . ."

"And?"

Should I tell him? I whispered, "And there's a cute young guy in the tax department." I was blushing furiously.

"Oh." I'm sure Sam was surprised. "Are you interested in him?"

"NO! Of course not! Besides, I don't even know if Donna was serious. She's hard to read."

"You said he's cute. What does he look like?"

A part of me wanted to brag a little, so I told him. "Well, he's blond and has a really nice face, he's about my height, built like a swimmer. He wears these fitted dress shirts that show how sleek his body is. And he went to one of the top schools for accounting, so I'm sure he's smart."

"Uh huh." Sam looked like he lost interest in what I was saying. Otherwise I would have found a way to introduce him to the guy, even though Sam was way out of his league. Then he spoke again. "I don't know why I didn't see this coming. Of course other guys are attracted to you. I mean, you're . . . smart and handsome, and . . ."

God! He's good at keeping a straight face! "You're just full of jokes today, aren't you, buddy?" I swatted his knee and stood up.

"I'm not jok . . . "

"I should buy one of these grills. Whadaya think?"

"And I guess we're changing the subject," he muttered. He stood up and joined me in front of a large Weber kettle grill.

"We could grill steaks tomorrow, Sam. My Dad used to have one of these. They're not too expensive, either."

"It's your money. It looks good."

"I'm not usually impulsive . . ."

"That's for sure."

". . . but I'm gonna do it! Is that the same one in a box? Can you carry that?"

He glared at me, then whispered, "I'm not carrying that through the store! I'll put it on a cart like a normal person!" He stomped off to get a cart, muttering under his breath.

Jeez! What got into him? I was noticing how moody he could be. Did I say something wrong? I picked up a bag of charcoal and a few accessories for the grill.

He came back with a flatbed cart and asked me to help him lift the boxed grill onto it. I knew he didn't need my help, but I wasn't going to argue with him when he was cranky. "Can we go now?" he said.

"Yeah, sure. I guess we have a lot to do today." We headed toward the checkout area, past the counter where they make keys. "Sam, could we just stop here so I can have my house keys copied for you?"

"What?"

"I wanna copy my house keys so you can have a set. It'll just take a few minutes."

"You're gonna give me keys to your house."

"Yeah. Do I need to talk louder?"

"That's . . . kind of a big deal, Adam." I couldn't read his expression.

"Well, it'll be easier if you need to get tools from the basement while I'm at work. Besides, if you wanted to rob me, I think you would have done it by now." I didn't understand why we were discussing this.

He looked like he didn't understand me, either. "Okay. You're right. Go ahead." He sounded exasperated. "I'm gonna look at something over here. I'll be back in a minute." He disappeared into the lighting department.

I handed the two keys to the girl at the counter. In the distance I heard a banging noise, like something knocking against a metal shelf. I heard a woman's voice: "Are you alright, young man? You're gonna hurt your head!" A grinding sound startled me and I turned to watch the keys being made. When they were done, the girl handed me the new keys in a little envelope. Then I saw her eyes travel up, beyond the top of my head, while her mouth fell open, and I knew Sam was standing behind me. That's how people looked at him.

We went through the checkout and exited to the parking lot. Sam asked me to help him load the grill onto the truck. Again, I obliged, but I gave him a bewildered look. After we got into the truck, he spoke politely but seriously. "Adam, I don't want people to see how strong I am. I don't want that kind of attention. So when we're in public places, please don't ask me to lift anything that you couldn't lift. Okay?"

"Okay. I didn't realize it embarrassed you. Is that why you were getting annoyed with me?"

"Oh, you noticed that I was annoyed? That's a hopeful sign!" His tone was unusually sarcastic.

"I'm sorry if I . . . I thought we were having a good day so far . . ."

"It is a good day."

"I know I can be . . . insensitive. Donna called me "dense" the other day . . ."

"That's IT! That's exactly right!" He startled me with his enthusiastic agreement. "You are dense. Not stupid! Dense. It's the perfect word for you. She must like you a lot if she told you that."

I was feeling dense. "I wish I understood what you both mean."

Sam took a deep breath and let it out. He tried to explain it. "Adam, there are things going on around you that you just don't see. Like the people at work who are attracted to you. How do you not see that?"

"I don't think it's true."

"But it is true! So maybe you don't want to see it. Maybe you're afraid of what you might have to do if you saw it."

This is starting to sound familiar . . .

He continued, "So maybe there are things going on inside of you that you don't want to see. Do you follow?"

"Yeah. That sounds like me."

"I don't think you do it on purpose, but it can be pretty frustrating for other people."

"I'm sorry, are you frustrated with me?" I wanted things to be okay.

"Oh, God yes! Yes, I'm frustrated. But . . . I'll deal with it. I just need to be patient. You can be frustrating, but I still think you're worth the effort."

Effort? What is he working on? Uhh . . . friendship! That's it! It's hard to be friends with me. See, I can do this!

"We should go home, Adam. We're wasting the weekend."

"I don't think it's a waste of time. I've never had anybody tell me what I'm like. I could use more feedback like that. Thank you."

"Any time."

"Oh, and these are yours." I pulled the little envelope out of my shirt pocket and handed him the copies of my house keys.

He took them. "Thank you." It looked like he had tears in his eyes. "You don't have any idea how much this means to me, do you?"

Crap, I'm gonna be dense again. "I guess I don't, to be honest. I know that I trust you. I don't think I've ever trusted anyone as much as you."

Sam put his hand to his face and covered his eyes. He sniffled. I must have said the wrong thing. "That's good, Adam." His voice sounded wobbly. "You got it right this time."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Even though I didn't understand how I got it right, I was glad that I did. I started the truck and we drove home in silence. But it felt . . . good.

***

When we got back to the house, Sam took the grill off the truck and set it near the back porch. "Do you want me to put this together for you?"

"Yeah, thanks for offering." I handed him the cans of paint. "I'm thinking I should go to the grocery store right away before I get messed up in the garden. How many steaks do you think you can eat?"

He snorted. "That's the wrong question to ask! How many steaks will fit on the grill? That's a better question."

"Oh, yeah. Good point. Let's see . . . we'll have the steaks tomorrow. I was thinking we could just order pizzas for tonight. I haven't eaten anything like that for a while and I feel like a treat."

"Why don't you buy yourself some of that wine you used to drink? You should relax a little. Forget about that diet you're on."

"I don't want to gain any more . . ."

"You're not fat, Adam!"

"Mebbly tulu."

"In fact, why don't you buy some ice cream? If you don't mind, I'd like some Haagen Dazs. Get a few quarts. Maybe I'll share some with you." He wasn't usually this assertive. I kind of liked it.

All I said was, "What flavor?"

Sam smiled. "I like them all. Thanks. You know I appreciate all the cooking you do, and the grocery shopping. I don't want you to think I take it for granted."

"Well, that's our arrangement."

"It's more than an arrangement, Adam. You're very generous."

"Okay, I'll be back in a little while." I wanted to get out of there before we had another emotional talk.

I went to the high-end grocery store near the center of town. I stopped at the deli counter to find something for our lunch and told them I needed to feed six people. They put together a tray with a selection of pita wraps. I bought thick porterhouse steaks for our Memorial Day dinner, along with spinach and strawberries to make a salad that I liked a lot. After some hesitation, I picked up a box of Shiraz. It wasn't the cheapest boxed wine they had, either.

Then I looked at the Haagen Dazs. I had never allowed myself to try it because it was shockingly expensive and even more shockingly caloric. But if Sam wanted it, that was different. He never asked for anything specific before. They only had three flavors in quart containers, so I took one of each. Rather than making a decision about which flavors to buy in pints, I took one of each of those as well. It was a lot of ice cream. A woman shopping nearby smiled and said, "You must be having a bad day!" I replied, "No, we're having an ice cream social at our church." It surprised me how easily I lied. On my way to the checkout I selected a big striped watermelon that was on sale. That would be my dessert.

I got back to the house and Sam helped me unpack the groceries. When he saw all the ice cream he started gushing with appreciation again. He certainly liked to talk about his feelings. But that seemed to be his only weakness, so it was easily forgiven. I couldn't imagine a better companion.

He asked about the strawberries. "What are these for?"

"I'm gonna make a spinach salad with strawberries for tomorrow."

"Okay. Just checking." He was smiling like he had made a joke, but I wasn't getting it.

Then I remembered our conversation in the car about Tess of the D'Urbervilles and the part where Alec seduces Tess with a strawberry. Is he afraid I might try to seduce him? I thought of our awkward encounter outside the garage that morning. When we sat down to eat the pita wraps, I decided to try initiating one of those feeling conversations. How hard could it be?

"Sam, I don't want to make a big deal out of this, but . . . as you said, I can be kind of dense, so . . . this morning when I came out to the garage . . . I hope you don't think I was doing anything . . . inappropriate. It seemed like I was making you uncomfortable."

"No, it wasn't you. It was me. I was just feeling . . . insecure . . . well, never mind. It was nothing to do with you, though. Don't worry about it."

Now he doesn't want to talk about his feelings! "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

He made an indecipherable noise and was quiet for a few minutes while he ate. Then he started. "Alright. I didn't want to say anything yet, but . . . I don't know how much longer I can work at the Harbor View. When I was there last night the manager was asking me a lot of questions about how much I've grown."

"Oh?"

"He said it was discouraging for the club members to see me 'hulking out' - those were his words - while they have to struggle to make progress. He wanted to know what kind of drugs I'm taking. All I could tell him was that I eat a lot."

"Exactly."

Sam started getting more animated. "Then he was worried about how much I've been eating at the restaurant, and he started questioning the chef about inventory control and profit margins and stuff. Now I'm afraid Chef's gonna get in trouble because of me!"

"Oh, shit."

"Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with me!" It was unusual for him to swear, but he was getting agitated. "Y'know why my pants looked short yesterday? I'm six-foot-four now!"

"You're . . . really?"

"Yes! Why am I still getting taller at my age? And I don't even have to lift weights to put on muscle! I just eat like a fuckin' pig and I get bigger. I mean, look at all this food you buy for me! It's disgusting!"

"It's not!"

"It is! And when I try to work out - first of all, because of this fuckin' weird strength shit most of the weights aren't heavy enough . . ."

"Oh, yeah . . ."

"But if I use weights that are heavy enough, my muscles blow up like . . . like the fuckin' hulk! Well, not that bad, but still. That's what you caught me doing this morning when you came out there. So it had nothing to do with you. I was just upset."

It seemed like he was winding down. I was thinking, "Holy shitballs!" but he wasn't settled yet.

"I mean, what the fuck?! It's not like I can go and ask a doctor about it! They'll probably put me in some government lab or something! I'm telling you, I'm some kind of weird fucking freak, Adam!"

That did it. "STOP!" I yelled. "Stop saying that! You're not a freak! And I don't want to hear that out of your mouth again! Is that clear?"

Sam was so startled, all he could say was, "Yes. Sorry." All I could think was, "Where the hell did that come from?"

I continued. "Now let's be rational about this. How do you feel, physically? Do you feel sick?"

Sam thought for a moment. "No, I feel . . . better than ever."

"Alright then. There's no reason to think there's something wrong with you."

"But I'm not normal!"

"Fuck normal! Why does everybody want to be normal? Even if there's nobody else in the world like you, just because you're different doesn't mean it's bad. The only problem you have is the narrow minded, distrustful people you work for. So you need to get out of there."

"I can't give up my job."

"Dave offered you a job. You can work for him."

"I can't! How am I gonna get there?"

"You can take my truck."

"You can't give me your truck!"

"I'll sell it to you. You can make monthly payments. It's getting old anyway. I'll let you have it for the Blue Book value."

"No, you're doing too much for me already. I can't keep taking advantage of you like this."

"How would you be taking advantage of me when you're gonna be giving me almost all of your monthly income?"

"Uhh . . . I didn't look at it that way. Wait . . . are you . . . ?"

"Am I taking advantage of you?" The question hung in the air. Eventually he answered.

"No. You're not. I get the apartment, a lot of food, the truck, and the opportunity to get out of a bad situation. You get my labor, and you'll get most of my money. I think that's fair. But how are you gonna get around?"

"I'll buy something new. I was thinking of getting a bigger truck anyway."

"Are you sure you can afford all of this? You've been spending a lot of money on me."

"Don't worry about that. I haven't even touched the insurance settlement I got after my parents died."

"No! I don't want you to spend that money on a truck just because I need help."

"I'm not gonna spend five-hundred-thousand on a truck."

"Wait . . . isn't that, like . . . half a million dollars?"

"Well, when you say it like that it sounds like a lot. It's not like I'm rich, but I can afford to buy a new vehicle every ten years or so. Are you finished eating? There's still food on the table."

"Yeah, I'm not that hungry right now. All this financial stuff makes me uneasy. I've never even had a bank account. I'm just afraid . . . "

"Don't be afraid. I'm an accountant. Everything is going to be fine." I got up to clear the table.

Sam sat there, letting it all sink in. "So I'll work for Dave. You're okay with that?"

"It's really up to you, but, yeah. I've known him a long time. I know he's a friend."

"And there won't be any more questions about my . . . different-ness."

"Nope." I watched his face brighten as his worries were lifted.

He stood up and looked at me. "Adam. I don't care what you say. I'm gonna hug the shit out of you now."

"Oh, God!" He grabbed me so hard I could barely breath and I was afraid my ribs would crack. I felt my feet leave the floor, so I wrapped my arms around his back and squeezed. He held me long enough for me to understand that what I was feeling in that embrace wasn't sexual. It was warm, and caring, and generous, and grateful. It was nice. I could get used to this.

When he let me go I had a smile on my face and Sam had tears in his eyes. He was an emotional guy. I liked it. It felt like we complimented each other. And from a long-neglected part of myself there was a whisper of a suggestion of a possibility: I could fall in love with a man like this.

"I'm not getting any of my gardening done!" I said. "So pull yourself together and let's get cracking!"

"Okay, Adam. Thank you."

"Y'know, you say 'thank you' to me about a hundred times a day. Are you sure you don't want the rest of these pita wraps? I don't want you to pass out in the yard."

He smiled. "Maybe I am still hungry . . . "

***

We spent the rest of the afternoon working on our separate projects. Every now and then I would look over at him, or he would look at me. We took our shirts off again, and I didn't feel uncomfortable about it. I had always been so self-conscious and self-critical. When I looked at guys like Sam - men who looked like I wanted to look - I assumed that they were supremely self-confident, untouched by insecurity, and untroubled by shame. I had been wrong. Though I thought there could be nothing more attractive than complete self-assurance, I discovered that there was something more deeply beautiful in a man who thought he was seriously flawed. The powers of those distant gods seemed to have been diminished by a vulnerable human. Something within me had shifted.

By the time the sun was cozying up to the western horizon, Sam had stripped the old shingles off the roof of the garden shed, reattached the cupola, and put a first coat of paint on the whole building. Watching him carry that cupola up a ladder made me question the laws of physics, but there it was on the roof, waiting to be crowned with the weather vane.

I complimented his work and asked him what kind of pizza he liked. He didn't hesitate. "Cheese, sausage, mushrooms, onions and black olives." I had to smile at this. I enjoyed it when he told me what he wanted because then I could give it to him. I wished I could be more decisive about food and other things. In the past I had eaten the same meals every day because it was easier than thinking about what I really wanted. Then again, it protected me from the delicious things that I shouldn't eat, so it had its advantages.

Sam returned to the coach house to take a shower and I went upstairs to do the same after calling to order three large pizzas. I added two salads to quiet my guilt about eating a forbidden food. I put on a clean pair of jeans and, for some reason, spent a few minutes choosing a shirt that brought out the blue in my eyes. When I came down the stairs it was getting dark, so I turned on the lights in the living room and dining room before going to the kitchen to make a pitcher of iced tea for Sam. I cracked open my new box of Shiraz and filled a glass for myself. It was a strongly flavored wine with a spicy finish, and it warmed my insides.

I heard a polite knock at the back door. "C'mon in, Sam! The door's unlocked." He entered, and my insides felt even warmer. He was wearing the white polo shirt he had worn on the night he cooked dinner for me in his apartment. The shirt fit him like a second skin now and just barely met the top of his jeans. His newly acquired light golden tan contrasted nicely with the white fabric. A thin veil of fine dark hair covered the wedge of chest that was visible through his unbuttoned collar. He was stunning.

"You look good in blue, Adam. You should wear that more often," he said.

"Thanks," I replied.

His face expressed surprise. "You actually said, 'thanks' to a compliment. Usually it's some other language."

"No it's not!" Yes it was. As I said, something within me had shifted. "I was thinking we could eat in the dining room for a change. It never gets used anymore. Could you bring that pitcher of iced tea?" I picked up my box of wine and led the way.

Sam started teasing. "You're really living dangerously tonight! A change of routine, a box of wine . . ."

"Yeah . . . who knows what might happen next?" I smiled at him over my shoulder. The front doorbell rang. "Could you get some plates and forks while I pay the guy?" I went to the entrance hall and pulled open the heavy paneled door that I rarely used. A bright-eyed young man with a scruffy beard held our food. I took it from him and turned to set the pizzas down, but Sam was there to take them from me. The pizza guy looked at both of us and smiled. He was very cute. He told me the total and wrote something on the receipt while I counted out enough bills to include a generous tip. I handed him the money.

"Thanks, man! I'll see ya!" He handed me the receipt and trotted back to his car. After closing the door I looked at the receipt and saw a scribbled phone number and a single word: Scott. I showed it to Sam and he smiled. "Is this what I think it is?" I asked.

"Yep! That's gonna happen to you more often if you keep wearing that color."

"No! It's probably for you. You're closer to his age." I was blushing.

Sam smiled and shook his head. "You really don't see what other people see. C'mon, let's eat. This smells great!" He headed for the dining room. Then he added, "Maybe the guy wanted a threesome!" My face burned a little hotter.

We sat at one end of the big oak table with the pizza boxes and the salads and the beverages spread out before us. I grabbed a roll of paper towels from the kitchen to clean our hands and faces. I ate a little of my salad, but the pizza was so good I stuck to that along with the Shiraz, which I was enjoying immensely. Sam ate more noisily than usual, smacking his lips and moaning with satisfaction whenever he bit into another slice of pizza. He really was a "Hoover."

Not one to stay quiet for long, Sam started teasing me again. At least I think he was teasing. "So, did you keep that guy's number? Are you gonna call him?"

"No! I mean, yes I have his number, but no, I'm not gonna call him." I looked at him like he was crazy.

"Why don't you throw it away then?" He scanned the table for the receipt, then saw the edge of it sticking out of my shirt pocket. He reached out to grab it, but I clamped my hand over my pocket before he could get to it. He grinned and chewed on some pizza. "Seems like you wanna hang on to that!"

Busted! "Well, it's not every day that I get that kind of attention from a cute guy."

"Uh huh."

"I'll just keep it as a trophy. Unless you wanna call him." I hated to think that Sam wasn't out there looking for the kind of guy he wanted. What a waste!

"I don't wanna call him. But, don't you ever think about . . . y'know . . . some no-strings-attached sex?"

"There are always strings. Besides, I wouldn't have a clue about what to do or how to do it. I could have a panic attack just thinking about it."

"C'mon! You could figure it out."

"No, I'd probably throw up on the guy before I got anywhere. That's a mood killer."

"Believe it or not, I think some people are into that."

"Oh! Gross! Y'see . . . that kind of stuff . . . that's what makes me wanna stick with my right hand!"

Sam chuckled. "I know what you mean. Are you gonna finish your salad?"

"No. Go ahead." The pizza was almost gone, so I filled my wine glass again and watched the movement of muscles in Sam's arms while he ate. After a few quiet minutes I said, "Are you gonna have room for dessert?"

He knew I was kidding. He crunched loudly on a big forkful of salad and chewed it with his mouth open while he looked me in the eyes. It was strangely sexy.

I stirred from my chair and stacked the empty pizza boxes. "I'll get the ice cream. What flavor do you want?"

He threw both of his arms in the air, like he'd won a race or something. The hem of his shirt rose up, exposing his muscled belly. "Surprise me, dude! I'm open to anything!" He watched me walk away. God, he's adorable!

I left the boxes on the kitchen table and opened the freezer to get a quart of Haagen Dazs. I just grabbed the one in front - strawberry. I set it on the counter to soften while I bent over to lift the watermelon I bought for myself. As I stood up I could feel the effects of the wine I had been drinking. I cut off one end of the watermelon and decided I would eat it with a spoon, right from the rind. I pulled the lid off the ice cream and peeled off the plastic liner. I jabbed a spoon into the ice cream, and one into the watermelon, and I went back to the dining room.

Sam had pulled his chair out so he could sit with his legs crossed, facing my chair across the corner of the table. He was bobbing his head to some internal music. I said, "Have you been sampling my wine?"

"No. I'm just happy." He continued smiling and bobbing his head as he watched me come around the table to my chair. "You got a problem with that?"

I snorted. "No! I like seeing you happy." I handed him the ice cream. He looked at it like it was a pot of gold. Then he looked at what I had.

"You're eating watermelon? What the . . ."

"Don't hassle me! I don't have your . . . metabolism."

"Alright! But you don't know what you're missing." He ran his spoon around the top edge of the carton, collecting the softest ice cream first. He put the spoon in his mouth, closed his eyes and said, "Mmmmmmm."

I scooped out a piece of watermelon. "I was thinking, Sam. Would you like to meet that guy at work that I told you about?"

He knit his brow. "You mean the swimmer tax guy? Why would I wanna meet him?"

"He's pretty hot. You might like him."

"If he's so hot, why don't you take him? Apparently he'd like that. Besides, he's probably too smart for me."

"What?! That's ridiculous. Nobody's too smart for you."

He was kneading the sides of the ice cream carton to soften its contents. "I don't have a degree."

"So? That doesn't mean you're not smart. I can't believe some of the things you say. There isn't anyone you're not good enough for." I gathered some watermelon seeds on my spoon and discarded them on a paper towel.

Sam put a big spoonful of ice cream in his mouth and savored it. "You should try this - it's so creamy." He scooped out some more. "But, seriously, Adam, why wouldn't you give a hot guy like that a chance? You'd probably have a lot in common."

"Maybe. But he's not the type of guy I would go for . . . if I were interested in a relationship, which I'm not." The watermelon wasn't as sweet as I would have liked, but I kept eating it.

"Why do you keep saying that? What do you think a relationship would be like? What would be so bad about it?"

I had to think about that. I set aside the watermelon and picked up my wine glass. "It's not that it would be bad. I just wouldn't be good at it. Y'know, I'd have to make compromises and change the way I do things. I'd have to share." I rolled my eyes at the idea.

"Taste this, Adam. You won't believe how good it is." Sam held a spoonful of his strawberry ice cream in front of my face. I looked at him and hesitated. "Don't worry, you won't catch anything from me. Take it before it starts dripping." I opened my mouth and accepted it, closing my lips over the spoon. He pulled it out slowly and waited for my reaction.

"Mmm. That is good!" It tasted like sin.

He smiled. "I knew you would like it." He put the spoon in his mouth and licked it clean. "So . . . you were saying?"

"Yeah. Relationships. I just don't think I could tolerate the everyday interaction - putting up with someone's moods and listening to their problems. You know what I'm like. Can you imagine someone trying to live with all of my quirks and annoying habits?"

"Yeah." He swallowed some Haagen Dazs. "Do you want some more?"

"Yeah, sure." I leaned forward and opened my mouth. It took him a moment to fill the spoon and bring it to me. I closed my lips tighter this time so I would get all of the ice cream. He had to tug a little harder to get his spoon back. I swallowed and continued talking. "The other thing I would have a hard time with is trusting somebody else to hold up their end of things . . . financially, and, like, taking care of the house and stuff . . . all the maintenance that should be divided equally."

"You mean like we do?" He continued eating.

"Yes, exactly! If it were someone like you, it would be easy, but . . . " He held up another spoonful of ice cream and I opened wide to take it. ". . . do you know how hard it would be for me to find somebody I could trust like that?"

Sam waited a moment before he replied, "But I'm right here."

It took me a while to absorb the meaning of what he said. "Yeah, but . . . we're not in a . . . relationship." The taste of strawberries was still on my tongue.

"We're not?" He was looking at me patiently.

I felt a thump in my chest. "No. There's more to a . . . relationship . . . than what we . . . are."

He spoke carefully. "There could be more to it."

My heart was beating like crazy and I felt hot. "But . . .no. No . . . maybe if I were younger . . ."

"Why would you have to be younger?"

I was afraid to continue, but I did. "Because you're too . . . at your age . . . you wouldn't be . . ."

He looked in my eyes. "I would, Adam. I am."

My mind reeled. My consciousness was overwhelmed by things that hadn't been there before. I hadn't seen what was happening right in front of me, inside of me. I was already in the middle of something I didn't believe was possible. How could it . . . How could I . . .?

Sam leaned forward and spoke softly. "I know this is scary for you, Adam. But they're just feelings. You don't have do anything about them."

I wasn't breathing normally. "But you're not . . . or you are . . . are you? . . . attracted to me?"

Again, he spoke very gently. "Yes. Very."

I buried my face in my hands. I felt like I was going to have another breakdown, as I did when Sam told me he was gay. Just remembering that episode added another layer to my awareness. I couldn't maintain my defenses any longer. The walls had been breached.

There were so many feelings at once, I thought I would explode into pieces. You might think that such good news would be a cause for celebration, but you don't live in my head. Above all else, I was frightened. Or was it excitement? I wasn't sure if I would know the difference. It was unfamiliar territory, and I didn't like being lost. I wanted to be safe. My whole life had been built for safety, and this was definitely not safe. Worse yet, it was all my own doing! I had allowed it . . . no, I welcomed it into my life! I couldn't even trust myself anymore.

Unaccustomed as I was to expressing even the most basic feelings, I had no idea what to do with this wall of emotion. I certainly couldn't speak! I was overwhelmed, so I cried. I sobbed. Sam knelt beside my chair and put his hand on my back. He just rubbed my back gently and let me cry.

I don't know how long it lasted. Long enough. Eventually I regained some sense of control, but I had no idea what to do next. But Sam knew. "You should go to bed, Adam. You're exhausted. I'll clean up down here. I'll turn out the lights and lock up when I leave."

"Okay," was all I could say. I stood up and headed for the stairs.

"Why don't you come over to my place for breakfast in the morning. I'm good at making breakfast - I promise. I'd like to do that for you. Whatever time you wake up will be fine. Just come over."

"Okay," I said as I went up the stairs.

"Good night, Adam."

"Good night."

I shuffled into my dressing room. I didn't bother to turn on the light or close the door. I slipped off my shoes. I unbuttoned my blue shirt, pulled it off and dropped it on the floor. The same with my jeans, my underwear, and my socks. I pulled back the covers on my bed and slid under them, turning on my side and pulling my knees toward my chest. I could hear dishes being washed and cabinet doors closing. Then the clicking of light switches. The door latched, the lock clicked. And the faint sound of footsteps.

*****

Continued in: Part 9

Another author's note: I hope you liked this chapter, because it took a long time to write it. I want to manage readers' expectations by saying that I can't realistically churn out a chapter like this every week without sacrificing the quality of the writing or the quality of my life. I don't want to burn myself out. You might have to wait a little longer between chapters, but I am absolutely committed to finishing this story no matter how long it takes.

Once again, I appreciate all of your wonderful comments and thanks. They really keep me motivated.

[divis24]

This is great, thank you! I'm sucker for romantic stories with muscle.

Cheers,
divis24

[hardmuscl4life]

Well, if this is any measure of anything at all... You had me sobbing by the end of this chapter. That was just so well done... I don't need to say anything else except,

Thank you,
George

[sonic260]

Definitely worth the wait!

[jen12smith34]

This series is legendary. Best thing I've read. Wow. You had me captivated. Thank-you so much.

[convolution]

I had to read this in parts... to much for me at once. So this is what the real world is supposed to be like.
Thanks for the great writing, and the beautiful vision

[TKnTexas55]

That was so awesome. Beyond awesome. The interchange had me chuckling. It was great to see Sam being open about his feelings, finally. I could empathize with Adam's struggles. I was so anxious for another chapter, and this was so worth the wait. You raised your own standard.

[imfit]

Reeza,
This was a great read. Overall good character development, advancing of the narrative, and building of the character tension.

Take your time in writing your carefully crafted and expressive story.

[portamivia]

Oh, sigh. I'm in love.

[arpeejay]

http://www.facebook.com/arpeejay

[waabo2]

Okay, not even finished reading, but had to say "Awwww" out loud when Adam gave Sam the keys. Thanks for putting such effort and crafting into this story.

[sierraca]

Re your final author comment. Ah yes, the age-old problem of quality vs. quantity. Sometimes you want a quicky, and lots of it (and there are many, many good stories in this forum that fit this description and I thoroughly enjoy them). For more longer-term satisfaction though, it's quality that one seeks (and this story falls into this category). For this particular story and for me personally, I'm more than willing to wait for the next quality chapter. Thanks for the story.

[vlad]

Ugh this story is so good! Take your time with the chapters, I'd rather have super high quality chapters like this than a compromised chapter every few days.

[Neonando]

Definitely one of my favorite stories so far. Thanks for an excellent story

[darkluster4]

So I take it Sam has Muscle Hypertrophy Syndrome? One of the few deficiencies we all wish we had, right?

I usually prefer muscle growth stories with explosive growth and lots of cloths ripping action. But this has been on of the best stories I have read sense joining this forum years ago. I can relate to the characters, and find myself hoping that they will finally get together. You are quit the fiend for making us wait this long, but that is part of what makes this so good! Keep up the great work.


(P.S. Personally, if I was Adam, I'd be adding as much supplements and testosterone boosters to Sam's food that I could get away with. I'd want to see that boy GROW!! lol)

[racecar]

I can't get over how good this story is. Really looking forward to the rest!

[Shelby]

It was beautiful, wish I could write like that....

[revolution2233]

I love how Mdlftr hit the bullseye perfectly in the last chapter!

Also, I thought Sam was so clever to bring up the seduction! Even if Adam didn't understand what he was trying to say at the time.

You're a great writer!

[hempmonkey]

Initially, I was worried, as the introduction to this chapter (though still perfectly good) felt weaker than the others; almost like the context had been forced in. This could just be a case of rearranging your sentences, so they don't all start 'I stood...', 'I woke...', 'I thought...' etc. Still, that only really matters if you're a perfectionist, so I wouldn't worry too much about it. (It speaks volumes that this is the only criticism I can offer up!)

That being said, though, the rest of the chapter certainly delivered, to the point that I was tensing up every time Sam skirted the 'forbidden subject'. Magnificent work here, Reeza, I'm once again left hungry for more...

[Gman]

This is one of the sexiest stories I've read in a long time. I love the build up and anticipation. The characters are so real.
Take your time and continue with the quality that you've been producing. I'd rather wait longer between chapters and keep up the high standard!
Thank you

[lipschutz]

I haven't responded to a single story, but this is such lovely, tender writing that I can't help but say thank you. I very much identify with Adam, and reading about Sam telling Adam how he felt made my own insides seize up with anxiety.

[mario2007]

Reeza,

You are a MASTER storyteller. What an awesome story! I speak for many others, I'm sure, we await with bated breath the next chapter!

[joel24242]

wow. just wow. Love this story more with every chapter.

[flamedelft]

Cause of death: the overwhelming quality and cuteness of this chapter.

[HugestFuckGod]

This is hands down the BEST story on this site thank you. I am man enough to say that I giggle and awww when reading about this adorable couple!

I agree with hempmonkey, there is nothing I can think of to criticise, or maybe I don't want to think that there could possiblely be something wrong with this story...

Did anyone else catch Sam feeding Adam Strawberry ice cream from his spoon?

[martinp13]

That dinner scene was sooooo well-written (not that the rest isn't too!). Thank God for boxed wine or Adam would have NEVER caught on to the relationship.

Hugest: when the strawberry ice cream came out, I knew someone would be feeding it to someone, and given Adam's inebriation, I figured it would be Sam doing the feeding. Still, nice to make it ice cream instead of the actual fruit, since we already knew ice cream would make an appearance!

[muscle16a]

""Mebbly tulu.""

???

[Reeza]

Originally Posted by muscle16a

""Mebbly tulu.""

???

That's the gibberish Adam speaks when he gets a compliment.

[tallguy417]

My partner and I were just at a small convenience store. Two young very good looking guys came out carry packages. As they walked away, they turned and kissed each other. They were right by a fraternity that used to be very homophobic. We talked at some length about how fast things have changed. The world is filled with many Sams and many Adams. If it weren't for my partner of 25+ years, I'd be an Adam. Thanks for taking the time to do this right.

[Anifanatic10]

Originally Posted by Reeza

"Cheese, sausage, mushrooms, onions and black olives."

That's the kind of pizza I always get!
Except for the olives...

[nnnrg]

And now I'm all verklaempt.

It's especially interesting to see Adam thinking he's not smart when he uses the literary reference to hook Sam, and to get him to begin to open up. And it's especially interesting as Sam's subconscious choice of the strawberry ice cream is a response to the repeated references to the strawberry scene in the book, and the power-relationship is mentioned as the reason why Sam felt it was rape (and I agree btw) but then Adam inverts it by being the one who offers the strawberry ice cream to Sam.

And the whole trust thing is perfect.

[martinp13]

Originally Posted by muscle16a

""Mebbly tulu.""

???

Probably "Maybe true.", but gibberish IS gibberish.

[Mdlftr]

"Sam, could we just stop here so I can have my house keys copied for you?"

"What?"

"I wanna copy my house keys so you can have a set. It'll just take a few minutes."

"You're gonna give me keys to your house."

"Yeah. Do I need to talk louder?"

"That's . . . kind of a big deal, Adam." I couldn't read his expression.

"Well, it'll be easier if you need to get tools from the basement while I'm at work. Besides, if you wanted to rob me, I think you would have done it by now." I didn't understand why we were discussing this.

He looked like he didn't understand me, either. "Okay. You're right. Go ahead." He sounded exasperated. "I'm gonna look at something over here. I'll be back in a minute." He disappeared into the lighting department.

I handed the two keys to the girl at the counter. In the distance I heard a banging noise, like something knocking against a metal shelf. I heard a woman's voice: "Are you alright, young man? You're gonna hurt your head!" A grinding sound startled me and I turned to watch the keys being made.



===============================
Reeza, your writing is sublime! Subtle, nuanced, never overly direct or rushed. You are truly a very talented writer and one of the best I've read anywhere for modern fiction!

Mdlftr, who's on his way to Home Depot right now!

To get his "keys" cut!

"Um, yeah, that's right!"

[ts1976]

Reeza, I think you should publish this story once it's done. I'd pay to read something like this.

[wrestlejock646]

I've been totally absorbed in reading the collection of works by Grasshopper I recently found on iomfats.org. He's quickly become a personal favorite of mine, although, unfortunately, he hasn't posted a new story in about 5 years from what I've been able to learn. If anyone is unfamiliar with Grasshopper's work, I hope you'll take some time to look him up.

Reeza, this story is so wonderful with its pacing, romantic interest and character development that I rank you right up there with Grasshopper. I feel invested in Sam and Adam and I'm a sucker for a happy ending. I think the only way I'll ever feel disappointed with this story is when it ends and the disappointment will really only be melancholy for it not continuing without end. I already want these guys to have a long life of discovery and happiness together.

You have both a gift and a skill and I hope you continue to write for a very long time.

[AKA]

Do take all the time you want or need to take. The time spent shows, in the little details, the build-up, the teasing and pay-off. This is quality workmanship. Every word is important and when it finally happened at the end, when our poor shut-down man finally allowed someone inside....

Just really amazing and nice.

And sexy, to boot!

Thanks again.

[umlerian49]

If you're not writing for a living, you should be.

There is but a handful of writers on this forum that are this good. I have to agree, too, with the comment about pacing. Good writing has a rhythm, like music. Together with the wonderful character development, this story is terrific.

U.M. Lassiter

[photoguy]

Lovely. I'll have you know I was late to work today because of this story.
:^)
Of course, it was well worth it. Keep up the amazing work! By the way, I wish we had a tip jar/donation thingy. I'd really like to chip in and support some of the writing/writers I've enjoyed for free over the years.

[weaknobody]

Reeza, like everyone else said right before me, this is a beautiful story.
Yes, I'm completely involved with the characters, yes, I "aww"d with Sam's patience, I wanted to slap Adam in the face, like a good friend would.

Just wanted you to know that I appreciate immensely you taking your time to gift us with such a wonderful tale.

[makurra]

Reeza, thanks, a thousand thanks!! Buddy, you bring me joy with each new chapter!! Take your time, masterpieces need time to be almost perfect!!