The Brownstone on Union Park

GENERAL DISCLAIMER: This story contains sexual situations between adult males involving various aspects of the kink and fetish communities. If you find material of this nature offensive then you should not read any further. All characters in this story are over the age of 21. If you are under 18 years old in the US or under 16 in the UK you are not legally allowed to read this story. This is purely a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to any events that may have occurred, are purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the websites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author. Nifty does not exist without donations. If you enjoy these stories, please donate here: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

CONTACT/FEEDBACK: I enjoy getting feedback and I try to incorporate as many suggestions about the story and characters into subsequent chapters whenever possible. Feel free to e-mail me at carterpodeski@gmail.com.

The Brownstone on Union Park

• Chapter Thirteen -

A few moments later they were both washed and cleaned. Carter looked down at the drain in the center of the shower floor and could see some lingering cum hanging over the holes of the drain cover. He applied pressure with the heel of his foot on the surface of the drain and wiggled it attempting to remove the remaining cum. The final few strands dropped down into the drain.

Carter turned off the shower and opened the glass door to retrieve the towels from the heated towel rack. He grabbed two and slung one over his shoulder and unfolded the other.

Michael expected to be handed one but instead, Carter placed it over his head and began to towel dry his hair. He quickly finished the rest of Michael's body and let it rest over the top of the glass shower door.

"Your clothes are on the vanity by the sink," Carter mentioned and began to dry off his own body and exited the shower with the towel around his waist.

Michael stepped out of the shower clean, dry, and naked. He grabbed his white Hanes underwear and leaned against the vanity to help support his weight while he put them on.

Carter moved to the other side of the vanity and began to comb his hair and pull out a drawer for some toiletries. He produced a bottle of mouthwash, deodorant, moisturizer, and toothpaste and turned to look at Michael's dressing progress.

"You know, you look adorable in your tighty-whities," Carter said as he put down his comb, "But, we need to get you some big-boy underwear at some point"

"What's wrong with these? I've always worn them," Michael countered.

"Exactly!" said Carter and snapped the back of the waistband, "But you're not in sixth grade anymore. I'll have to have James show you his underwear collection at some point, he's got everything known to the modern gay man."

Michael grabbed the khaki shorts from the bathroom counter and put them on just as carefully using the vanity to support his body weight.

"Here, you want some deodorant?" Carter asked and extended his arm with the small gray container.

"Sure," Michael said and applied some to his armpits.

That was it, it was the source of the smell of sandalwood and bergamot that drove him wild the night before. He finished his other armpit and placed it back on the counter.

"Is it OK if I use your toothpaste?" Michael asked.

"Go for it, sorry I don't have an extra toothbrush for you, but there's mouthwash here too.

"Thanks," Michael replied and squirted some toothpaste onto his finger and did the best he could to get rid of his morning breath.

Carter used his deodorant and brushed his teeth, rinsing with the mouthwash and pushed the bottle over to Michael. He was just finishing putting on his black polo shirt that was a little wrinkled from sitting in the dryer overnight.

"Well, you clean up nicely!" Carter admitted causing Michael to blush again and then added, "Oh, but one more thing."

Carter picked up the comb again and did his best attempt to recreate the part in his hair that Michael had from the previous night.

"There, that looks like about right!" admitted Carter.

"Thanks, but I could have done that," Michael replied with a glimmer of a smile.

"I know," said Carter and then tousled his hair undoing his handiwork and laughed a bit.

Michael did not even bother to fix his hair and grabbed the bottle of mouthwash to finish things off with his morning breath. Carter applied a little moisturizer to his palms and rubbed them together before applying it to his face.

"You use moisturizer?" Michael asked.

"Haha! Welcome to being thirty-five! I didn't before I met James. I'm sure you'll get the skin care lecture from him at some point too," Carter replied and cautioned, "But you honestly should start sooner than later."

Michael shrugged a little causing Carter to push over the bottle and explained, "We're not straight, Michael. It's a different set of rules for us. You can't exactly get `wifed up' and then let your body and face just go to shit like the rest of them. Looks matter in our world whether we like it or not."

Carter was right. It was a different set of rules for gay men when it came to body image and appearance. And there were so many of them; Michael was just beginning to scratch the surface. He reached across the counter and squeezed some of the moisturizer into his hands and applied it to his face and neck.

"OK, I need to get dressed but how about some coffee or something downstairs in the kitchen?" asked Carter.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I still need to get my shoes from the top floor," Michael replied.

"OK, how about I get your shoes and bring them down to you, it seems like going upstairs might not be the best idea right now," Carter reasoned.

"Thanks, I think I can make it downstairs with the railing to help. At least I have gravity on my side," said Michael.

Carter gathered the other towel and unlocked the bathroom door. He delicately opened it but paused before exiting, carefully inching his neck out and looking in both directions of the hallway.

"What's wrong?" Michael questioned.

"Nothing, it's all good," Carter replied and exited with one towel around his waist and the other over his shoulder.

Michael followed and made his way towards the stairs leading down into the kitchen. Carter removed the towel from around his waist and placed both in the hamper of the closet with the fresh linens. He took two fresh ones from them shelving and replaced them on the towel rack in the bathroom.

The steps going down to the first floor of the apartment into the kitchen area were actually less difficult than Michael expected. The right foot was easy to maneuver, but when he needed to step down on the left one, he could support most of his body weight on the railing. Part of him realized that the next time he would go back up the steps in the future he would not be carried by Carter anymore.

He reached the bottom of the steps and turned the corner to enter the kitchen and sat down on one of the barstools. Upstairs, Carter was finishing getting dressed for the ferry ride over to Provincetown: nine-inch plaid gray shorts, a dark blue tank top, the Red Sox baseball cap, and his strappy black Chaco sandals.

He hurried up to the top level and retrieved Michael's Samba sneakers noting that he forgot to wash the socks that were left beside them. The sneakers were a little damp but the socks were still wet. Carter brought both the shoes and wet socks with him down to the bedroom level and tossed the wet socks in his laundry pile. He retrieved a clean pair of ankle length socks from his dresser and stuffed them in the sneakers.

Just as Carter was about to leave his bedroom, he paused and went back to take a pillow from his bed with him before exiting. He threw the pillow down the stairs to the landing below and knocked on the door of James' bedroom, "James it's time to wake up!"

Nothing.

He knocked again a few more times and then heard James snipe, "OK, I heard you, I'm getting up!"

Carter bounced down the stairs with ease with the sneakers and dry socks in one hand. He picked up the pillow with the other free hand, turned the corner and walked down the small hallway leading into the kitchen. There, he saw Michael sitting on the bar stool checking his phone.

"What's the pillow for?" Michael asked.

"This? This pillow," Carter explained as he playfully smacked Michael's back with it, "is what you slept on last night."

Carter went over to the couch and placed the bed pillow near the end by the arm and pulled out a fuzzy fleece blanket arranging in such a way to make it look like someone did, in fact, sleep on the couch last night. He circled back around to the kitchen to face Michael still sitting on the barstool. The pipes behind the walls in the kitchen containing the hot water that was connected to the bathroom above rattled a little indicating the shower was in use upstairs.

"What are you talking about?" Michael asked and put down his phone.

"Look, if James asks, just tell him you slept down here last night," Michael explained, "It will make all of our lives easier."

Carter placed the damp shoes by Michael's feet and added, "I forgot to throw your socks in the wash last night so I got you a dry pair of mine."

"Wait a minute, so James shouldn't know what we just did?"

"This is going to get complicated really fast, but let me explain it like this," Carter began as he pressed the silver button on the espresso machine springing it to life as it made gurgling noises.

"What is there to explain? I just slept in your bed and we spooned," Michael retorted.

"True, and I also gave you a hand job in the shower."

"I know, it was great!"

"Look, if we are all going to work as roommates, things can get awkward if we start getting romantically involved."

"Are you and James more than just roommates?"

"No, but we did hook up ages ago and actually dated for a while before I moved in. We realized it would never work out and that we worked better as friends."

"Is that what you want for us?"

Carter paused for a moment at the delicate nature of such an honest and blunt question. He was about to open his mouth when he turned around to the espresso machine and pushed in the handle of the portafilter starting the grinding apparatus of the bean hopper above. The gears started to turn the burr grinder and fresh espresso grounds dropped down into the basket. It bought him some time to think.

"I'm not sure what I want to be honest. I really like you Michael and truthfully, I kind of wanted to do more than just spoon with you last night. But, I also didn't want to scare you away. I'm sorry if I was too direct with you in the shower before."

"I had a good time... Really, if I was uncomfortable I would have told you to stop."

Carter tamped down the espresso grounds and transferred the portafilter to the grouphead where the hot pressurized water came out and locked it into place. He turned back around to Michael.

"I had a good time too. I just think we might need to cool it for a bit, at least until things stabilize with your move, and you get adjusted to your job. You're switching up a lot of things in life right now, you don't need to be stressed out every time you come home."

"Did I do something wrong before?"

"No, not at all!" Carter exclaimed and sat down on the barstool next to Michael and placed his arm around his shoulder, "You did nothing wrong."

Carter turned to face him directly now with his arm still secured on Michael's shoulder. He stared directly into his eyes and inched closer. Michael could feel a little awkward tension building with Carter so close to his face, but it allowed him to peer into his deep blue eyes with the azure speckles. He could so easily get lost in them and forget his state of mind.

"Nothing wrong at all," Carter repeated and skillfully placed both hands on the sides of Michael's face, smiled, and went in for a kiss.

Michael closed his eyes and felt the softness of Carter's lips on his own. It was like the time he was kissed on the back of his neck in bed but the extra level of tactile sensation from the additional nerve endings in his own lips heightened the experience to a new level. Carter softly began to explore the inside of Michael's mouth with his tongue causing Michael to reciprocate. The minty freshness from the toothpaste and mouthwash moments earlier was intense but pleasant. Carter went in deeper and then shifted the focus to his hands grasping Michael's head. He began to massage the sides of his head by making sweeping motions with his thumbs against his hair before loosening his grip and withdrawing from the kiss.

"You did everything right, Michael," Carter explained as he slid both hands down his shoulders holding them securely on the side of his upper arms, "You're such a good boy."

Michael blushed in response to the praise but could not help but feel a tingle of eccentricity from the last word Carter used to describe him. Granted he was older, taller, and bigger, but did Carter really think of him as a boy? He just graduated college, after all, and was starting his professional life. It was vexing, in part, because he loved being told he did something well and wanted to be considered every bit as capable as any other adult. Yet, there was that small part of his consciousness calling out in the back of his mind that craved the security and comfort of having someone older and more experienced to assure him everything was alright. The world could be a pretty scary place and anything or anyone that could take some of that fear away Michael clung to.

Carter smiled, got up and went over to the opposite counter with the espresso machine. He carefully placed a small white porcelain espresso cup under the portafilter and pressed the glowing LED button bringing the machine to life. It made a loud mechanical pumping sound as the water was heated and pressurized. The espresso began to pour out into the cup below, dark at first, and near the end of the pull, the crema began to empty out culminating in a thick layer of foam on top of the tiny cup. Carter took the cup and brought it back to the island and placed it in front of Michael.

"Would you like the first espresso?" Carter asked and continued, "Or is this one mine?"

"I don't think I've ever had straight espresso before," Michael responded, "It's really strong, right?"

"Well, yes and no. Same caffeine in a cup of coffee, but minimal bitterness and acidity. Here, add a little sugar and see if you like it."

Carter procured some brown raw sugar packets from the cabinet above the espresso machine along with a tiny spoon to mix it in and returned to the counter, "Here, try this, I bet you'll find something new you didn't know you would like."

Michael took one of the packets, ripped it open, and poured the contents of the amber sugar crystals into the espresso cup. The crema on top was so thick that at first the crystals just floated before reaching a critical mass and then sunk to the bottom below the foamy layer. Carter picked up the spoon and stirred it for him. A few swirls later, most of the sugar had dissolved and he tactfully dragged the tiny spoon out of the porcelain cup against its side. The lingering liquid captured by the surface tension on the face of the spoon drained back into the espresso with ease.

"Give it a shot, I'll get you an ice water too. You need to rehydrate after sleep," Carter advised.

Michael took a sip from the tiny cup, raised his eyebrows a bit, and swallowed, "Yeah, it's strong but good!"

Carter returned with a large glass of ice water to help Michael along, "Here, have a little water too, espresso isn't meant to be drunk like a big mug of American style filtered coffee."

Michael followed with another sip of ice water cleansing his palette, "I think I like it."

Carter cunningly smiled and said, "See! You never know what you like until you give it a try. It's good to be adventurous like that!"

Michael took another sip of the espresso and it went down easier after his first acclimation to the new drink a moment ago. Carter turned around and started to make another cup for himself. Just then, James started to prance down the stairs and made his way into the kitchen.

"Good morning, boys!" James gleefully exclaimed and opened the fridge to take out some orange juice.

Carter pressed the button on the espresso machine again to pull another shot after he refreshed the portafilter with new grounds; the pumps and pressure began to work their magic as it brought a loud reverberating sound over the kitchen. James brought the container of orange juice over to the island with an empty glass and looked at the couch with a blanket and pillow.

"So, how was your first night here?" asked James in a highly questioning manner noticing that slight dampness in Michael's hair.

"It was great, Carter insisted I stay because of the rain," replied Michael.

James turned to Carter who was retrieving his cup from the espresso machine, looked at him directly and responded, "Oh, did he now?"

Carter rolled his eyes and broke off a banana from the bunch in the fruit bowl and got a protein shake from the fridge completely ignoring James' comment. He walked around the island and sat down next to Michael with the espresso cup, banana, and protein shake. James watched him like a hawk never breaking his line of sight on him as he moved throughout the kitchen space, he was waiting for a response.

"Yes James, it was pouring outside last night and wasn't letting up. Michael was drinking, we were all drinking, and his ankle was not exactly in the best condition," Carter justified, "So I told him he could stay here."

James glanced over at the couch again with the blanket and bed pillow, seemingly satisfied with the explanation and corroborating evidence. He took a sip of his orange juice, placed the glass down on the counter, and crossed his arms over his chest and said, "Well Michael, I'm glad you had a good first night. Hopefully, there will be many more to come."

Michael nodded in agreement and then Carter offered to him, "Do you want a banana, toast, or something?"

"I'm fine, I usually don't eat breakfast," Michael replied.

"Oh, we have to change that! You need to rev your metabolism up for the day. Try to start every day with a glass of water and twenty grams of protein. Here, why don't you try some of my shake, it'll put some meat on your bones."

Carter shook the chocolate protein shake and opened the red cap, effectively breaking the safety seal. Michael picked it up and looked at it to see what it was in more detail and then looked back at Carter.

"It's just whey protein, think of it as a healthy milkshake that will build muscle. They taste pretty good, too," Carter explained.

Wanting to impress them, Michael continued his adventurous streak and committed to trying yet another new experience. He brought it to his lips while tilting his head back and took a few swallows. The chocolatey whey protein shake actually did taste a little like a milkshake but thicker and not as sweet going down.

"Yeah, it's actually not bad," he agreed and took a few more swallows and wiped his mouth with his other hand.

James finished his orange juice and took another banana from the bunch, carefully discarding the peel in the trash, and proceeded to break it in half. He looked quizzically at Michael with narrowed eyes.

"Are you going to turn Michael into another of your muscle boys?" James asked in a sarcastic tone and then placed one half of the banana in his mouth while extending his pinky finger and began to chew.

"Haha, only if he wants to be," Carter replied in an equally jocular manner, "I actually moonlight as a personal trainer in my spare time on the weekends if you're interested: both physical training and nutritional plans as well."

James cut in, "It's something to think about, Michael. He whipped my ass into shape in about six months once he started my plan. I always had trouble gaining weight and putting on muscle but it's not as hard once you work with someone that's been through it."

First the mini-lecture about skincare from the bathroom earlier and now the pressure to look a certain way. It was a little overwhelming coming from his college life where these things seemingly did not really matter that much. And just when Michael thought he had that game mastered, then came young adult gay life in the South End with an entirely different set of rules.

"Yeah, maybe we can talk about it later after you get back?" Michael said leaving open the possibility for a later time.

James finished off the banana and placed the orange juice back in the fridge. He looked down at his watch and said, "Carter, we should probably get an Uber soon if we're going to make the ferry in time."

Carter looked at the clock on the microwave behinds James and nodded in agreement.

"I need to run up and get my weekend bag for P-town, is yours already down here?" James questioned.

"No, it's in my room on top of my dresser. I packed it last night before Michael arrived, would you mind getting it?" Carter asked.

"No problem," James replied and scurried up the stairs to retrieve the bags.

He entered Carter's room and crossed to his dresser where he spotted the duffel bag and picked it up. James turned around to exit and looked intently at the unmade bed studying the details of every single item and paused for a few minutes. Something was off.

"Good job before, Michael," praised Carter in reference to the overnight comments with James out of earshot upstairs.

He put his hand on Michael's shoulder and did the same reaffirming squeeze like so many other times causing him to smile in response.

"I guess I should take off as well. Thanks for everything, I can't begin to tell you what a great time I had," Michael replied.

Carter took the remaining protein shake and downed it along with the remainder of his espresso. Michael began to finish his as well when James came down the stairs with both bags and placed them by the entryway door into the apartment.

"I'll get the Uber there to Long Wharf if you get it on the way back," asked James.

"Yeah, that'll work," Carter agreed and began to clean up the glasses and from the kitchen washing them out manually since the dishwasher was full from the night before.

"Wow, that was quicker than I expected," James remarked noticing the Uber would be there in about three minutes.

Michael put on Carter's pair of low ankle socks and got his still damp Samba sneakers on realizing he would be exiting shortly.

James approached the door with the bags and called back to Carter, "Is he OK to walk down the steps this time or should I carry your bag down, too?"

James looked at Michael and softened his eyes into a glowing smile and said, "Yeah, let me carry him down, it'll be easier."

Michael's heart began to flutter again as he thought that phase was over when he walked down the stairs to the kitchen earlier. James looked up at his phone again.

"Two minutes, they're coming up Washington Street," James cautioned.

"OK, let's go then!" Carter exclaimed and extended his arms to pick up Michael.

Carter scooped him up one last time and carried him out of the entryway. James grabbed both bags and turned off the lights in the kitchen and living room and waited for the two of them to pass through the door.

"Make way," Carter said as he brushed passed James and exited.

James closed the door behind them and a beep was heard, indicating the electronic locking mechanism secured the apartment. Carter and Michael were already halfway down the stairs by the time James started his descent. He caught up with them on the landing as Carter waited for him to open the set of double doors.

"Damn, they're already here according to the app. My own Uber rating better not get dinged again for being late," James lamented and opened the doors allowing Michael and Carter to pass through.

Carter easily maneuvered Michael out of the foyer and inner stair vestibule to the entryway front porch steps and returned him to a standing position upon reaching the brick sidewalk. James followed closing the self-locking doors to the brownstone, with both bags, and met them below.

"Well, Michael, thank you again so much for coming out last night. I'm hoping this works out well and thank you for paying in advance for September. I'll make a copy of the keys when I'm in P-town and give them to Michael to take back. Move in whenever you like. Next time I see you will be next Friday probably when I'm back from LA," James said he got into the Uber on the opposite side and waved goodbye.

Michael waved goodbye too.

"Yeah, text me when you have a day in mind to move. I'm happy to help," Carter said in a disinterested tone making sure James could hear, "I'll be back in Boston on Monday."

He got into the car and the door shut; Michael waved goodbye without having a chance to say anything in response. He watched as the car drove down the oval of Union Park, past the black wrought iron fences, onto Tremont Street and took a right. He was overwhelmed with emotions and feelings and did not know how to begin to process them. The weather was beautiful out and he decided to go back to campus by the T in hopes of saving some money and began to walk down Union Park toward Back Bay station.

Meanwhile, in the Uber ride over to Long Wharf James and Carter remained uncommunicative. James eventually broke the silence and mentioned, "I'm hoping things will work out better with Michael."

Carter replied, "I'm sure they will, he seems like a pretty level-headed kid."

The car continued down Tremont street getting caught at a red light at the intersection of East Berkeley Street.

"Mmmm..." James murmured in a closed-lipped moan.

Carter looked back at him and rolled his eyes again, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. It's all just pretty amazing. That's all."

"What's amazing?"

"Well, for one thing, the fact that Michael slept downstairs last night yet his cold packs around his ankle with the white tape managed to make it all the way upstairs to your bed. And why was there a bottle of your lube in the shower this morning?"

Carter realized he could not easily explain his way out of this one and irritably retorted, "Oh, fucking eat me, James!"

"Mmm-hmm..." James replied.