Straight Man No More
by Erika Loveley
Copyright 2012 Erika Loveley
Smashwords Edition
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There was so much snow around my car that I could easily imagine myself being on another planet, lifeless and gloomy. The snow was everywhere. Only the surface of 59th highway which slowly rolled backwards beneath my car indicated that I was still on Earth, in Minnesota. But as time went by, I only saw more of snow and less of the road.
I cursed myself for a hundredth time. Why, why didn’t I take the plane? “Because you’re broke,” I answered myself immediately, “that’s why. You don’t have enough money to buy a plane ticket. That’s why each time you visit your Minnesota parents for Christmas you have to grab your New York college student ass, push it into your twenty-year-old Ford and drive it all the way up there.” Not that I didn’t love my folks, but it would be much, much easier for all of us if they could afford a plane flight for me.
For the last ten miles or so there was a strange buzz in the engine which worried me. The car was almost as old as me, and its service tag expired about 10 months ago. I had been driving for the whole day, and it was getting dark, and the noise was getting more and more noticeable. I needed a gas station to have someone look under the hood, and I needed it now. But there was none yet.
“Hold on, baby,” I said under my breath, peering through the snow which continued to whirl around my car. “Just give me a couple of miles. I’ll get you to doctor, I promise.” I had to drive slowly, and I knew it wasn’t good for the car either. But when I turned on the headlights, there still was nothing ahead: only patches of bare trees and unbelievable amounts of snow.
And half an hour later shit had finally happened. There was a loud “bang”, and then the engine just died: numb and deaf to my desperate attempts to turn it on again. By then it was completely dark outside, and the only thing I saw ahead was snow, whirling in front of my headlights.
Perfect.
I sat there for a while, thinking. There were only two options, actually: to stay here and wait for somebody, or to go ahead on foot. Looking at the snowy madness outside, I felt like staying. Luckily, the car lights were still on, which meant the battery wasn’t dead. I turned the heater on and began to wait. And I couldn’t believe my own luck when about fifteen minutes later I saw somebody’s headlights flickering in my rear view mirror. Well, if you can talk about any luck after your car had just died in the middle of the road.
I got out of the car and began to wave frantically. The black SUV went closer and stopped. There was a young man at the steering wheel, probably in his thirties, and I liked him the moment I saw him. Not in some weird way, of course. He just had a nice face with an easy smile and calm eyes. There are people that just gain your trust the moment you see them, and this guy was one of them.
“What’s up?” he asked, rolling the window down. I told him what happened, and he smiled. “Hop in, traveler,” said he. “Let’s get you to my place. When the storm goes off, we’ll get back and try to fix your ride.”
With a huge relief I sat in his car, and the moment later we were talking and laughing, heading towards the warmth of his house. His name was Aaron, and he was a store manager in the town we were heading to. Not too much of a place, he said, but the job was good, and people liked him, and he liked them. There was something so solid and reassuring in his presence that I forgot about my disaster completely, laughing at his jokes and making a lot of my own. I saw he was happy to have some company too, and I didn’t even notice how we finally reached our destination.
“Here we are,” said he, turning to the driveway. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
“I owe you one, man,” I said. “I’d have probably stayed there on that road for weeks if it wasn’t for you. Probably would turn to cannibalism, too.”
“You give me creeps right now, Larry,” he laughed. “I wouldn’t take you for a cannibal. If you’re a maniac, just tell me, and I’ll give you everything I have. Or you want to eat me so much that I can’t even stop you right now?”
Laughing and bantering like that, we entered his house. It was spacious, tidy, and warm. Exactly what you need after a long and snowy day.
“You live here all by yourself?” I said, taking off my wet and heavy jacket.
“Yup. Renting it. Go on, take your shirt off too, you’re soaking with sweat. Take everything off and go straight to shower. I’ll find something for you in my wardrobe.”
He was so cool about it that I didn’t even think to object. Naked except my briefs, I went to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. Then I put on a bath robe that Aaron brought for me and went to the kitchen. Aaron was already there, making pancakes. He was in T-short and jeans, and now I saw that he had broad shoulders and very strong arms. Worked out a lot, probably. Suddenly I realized I was very, very hungry.
“Pancakes?” I said. “Seriously?”
“I love ‘em,” he said and shrugged. “I had to learn how to cook them myself. Next step is an apron and knitting, I guess.”
“Don’t they have girls for that?”
“Perhaps.” He smiled again. “The thing is, I’m not into girls. Like, at all.”
I didn’t understand him at first. Then I froze for a moment, because I was standing practically naked in front of this guy, in his own bath robe. And then I just relaxed. The man’s gay—so what? Not my problem. He could dress up like Marilyn Monroe and wear make-up for all I care—as long as he doesn’t try to grab my cock. I definitely could play this cool.