My eyes adjusted quickly. Too quickly. My tongue, however, didn’t, and I forgot how to create words as my mouth dropped open.
I stared at the man in the doorway.
Tall, over six foot. Short-cropped white hair. Lined yet handsome face. Older than me. Lean body but muscled. Not like me—definitely didn’t grow up doing farm work—but healthy-looking nonetheless. A light coating of silver hair over his chest cascaded down his flat stomach and spread around his pendulum-like cock and testicles. I got stuck there, just staring at them as they swayed ever so lightly.
It might have been months since I’d talked to anybody, but it had been much longer since I’d seen one of those. Besides my own.
“Can I help you?”
I suddenly realized I was staring and forced my gaze back up the body and met ice-blue eyes.
Then my tongue worked. “You’re naked.”
The man smiled, increasing the lines on his face and also making him more handsome. “Thanks for noticing. You need something?”
“You’re naked.” I glanced down at his dick again. I’d had fantasies like this. Go to a stranger’s house, they answer the door naked, and then take you inside and fuck your brains out. Fantasies from a billion years ago. I met his gaze again, almost pissed that stupid fantasy would show up now. “Who the hell answers the door naked?”
His smile grew at my tone. “My house. My body. My rules.” He winked. “I won’t show up at your house naked. Unless you ask me to.”
Something broke in my brain. Whether from shock at such a suggestion or hope that it might happen, who can say.
The man held out a hand. “I’m Raymond. And I bet you’re Samuel Phipps, right?”
I nodded.
“Figured. I think I talked to my uncle twice over the past decade, and both times he was bitching about the faggot Samuel Phipps who lived next door.”
I flinched.
I’d not heard that word in years.
Years.
Part of the reason I lived like I did. I heard things weren’t like they used to be. That they were better. That gays could get married and such. Whatever. I knew people. Hate liked to linger.
It had been so long I didn’t even know what to say or tell if I was more pissed or hurt.
The man’s smile faltered for the first time. “Oh shit. Sorry, Samuel. I’m assuming it’s okay to call you Samuel, or maybe Sam. I didn’t mean—”
“Samuel. Never Sam.” That’s what I had to say?
His grin returned. “Got it. Samuel. Well, sorry about that. Didn’t mean offense. I’m a faggot too, so didn’t mean any harm. Just repeating my fucked-in-the-head uncle. He hated me as much as he hated you. But I’m the only blood left, and he hates the government even more than fags, so I got the house.”
Too much. Too much information. Too much weirdness. Too much penis. God, penis. It had been so long. “You’re still naked.”
He laughed then. What had his name been?
Raymond.
Raymond laughed then. He stood back from the door and made a sweeping gesture with his right arm. “Come on in. I’ll cover up until you ask me not to.”
Having lost every bit of my mind, as Raymond turned around and disappeared farther into the house, I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. I instantly began to sweat. The place was probably pushing eighty degrees. No wonder he’d been naked.
I started to take off my hat and scarf, then stopped abruptly. I was in a stranger’s house. A naked stranger. Who seemed to either be flirting with me or had possibly offered me sex. Twice.
In less than thirty seconds, Raymond was back. Way before I had time to figure out what the hell I was doing. He was in mid-process of slipping into a tie-dyed robe that looked part dressing gown, part kimono. I was fairly certain he hesitated a moment longer than necessary, letting me see his cock once more, before he pulled the halves together and cinched the tie at his waist. His smile returned. He was handsome. Very. Eyebrows a little too bushy, but handsome.
“Nice of you to drop by. I’d been meaning to do so myself. I was going to bring over a batch of my magic brownies, but I’ve been too busy cleaning out the place. My uncle was a bit of a hoarder, and I can’t bring myself to bake until everything is clean. So, sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude. I’ll bring you the good stuff in a few days.” He winked.
“Magic brownies?” I couldn’t figure out what to focus on. Apparently brownies won.
He gave me a look. “You don’t know what magic brownies are? I know I might be a bit older than you, but come on, dude. You’ve got to know what—”
I cut him off. “Yeah, I know what magic brownies are. I don’t do drugs.”
His eyes narrowed, but his grin never wavered. “Well, then. I’ll make you a boring batch alongside the good ones.” He cleared his throat. “Can I get you a drink? Water? Tea? Moonshine?”
What the…? “Moonshine?”
“Nah, just kidding. I hate the stuff. I don’t drink.”
Again words failed me. The naked man did pot but didn’t drink.
“Say….” He cocked his head. “Has anyone told you that you kinda look like….” He squinted and tapped his lip with his finger. “That actor guy. You know, the one back in the day…. He was in that terrible movie about the world being covered in water.”
I sighed. “Waterworld?”
His face lit up. “Yeah. Waterworld. God, that was bad. But he’s hot. What was his name?”
“Kevin Costner.”
Raymond slapped his thigh. “That’s it! You look like that guy.”
I’d been told that most of my life. It used to drive me crazy, as Kevin Costner had been six years older than I was. Now, it didn’t seem so bad. “Yep. I’ve heard that before.”
“Well, sexy, man. Sexy.”
I felt my cheeks heat. “You’re kinda sexy your—” I clamped my mouth shut. What the fuck was I saying!
“Oh, I know.” Raymond winked again and rubbed at the white chest hair visible in the deep V of the kimono. “Speaking of… why don’t you take some of your layers off. I keep it pretty warm in here.”
I actually lifted my hands to remove my hat before I caught myself. Or, actually, realized what was happening to my body. Beneath the layers of wool, felt, and thermal cotton, my erection had sprung to life. Like the fantasy of the naked neighbor was going to play out right here and right now.
The thought caused a spike of terror sharp enough to cool down my overheating body. Suddenly the layers offered protection more than suffocation. “Actually, I can’t stay. I… uhm….” What? I needed to go home and jack off and then try to remember how to actually talk to people. “I need to get home and make dinner.”
Raymond’s smile brightened once more. “Oh, perfect, I was just about to have dinner myself. Been making it all day in between taking out loads of my uncle’s shit. Figured if I’m going to work all Thanksgiving, I might as well have a good meal at the end.”
Thanksgiving. I’d forgotten. At some point last week, I’d remembered the holiday was coming up but then lost track of it again. Not like it really mattered. The realization that I’d forgotten stung. Almost enough to cause an ache in my chest. Silly, though. The years of Thanksgiving dinners surrounded by people I loved were long gone. Wow. “Thanks. I should probably get home, though.”