The Light by Parker Williams (aka Will Parkinson)
Last edited Sat Jun 1, 2013, 08:56 AM - Edit history (1)
I review books for a website (http://www.mrsconditreadsbooks.com) and the lady who owns it came up with an idea about putting together random items and asking authors to make a short story using those items. The ones she listed in the e-mail: a parachute, a closeted gay man, a blind dog, and a bar of soap. Only one other person thought the idea had merit, so I decided to take a stab at a story. It was a quickie since I was at work, but she seemed to like it. Figured I'd share.
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The Light by Parker Williams
Shane gave a small shiver when the dark-haired man opened his locker and began to strip down. The smell of his sweat was like a potent aphrodisiac and caused Shane no end of lustful thoughts. He pictured himself beneath the man, his thick hard cock buried deep in Shane's ass. Shane clenched and gave a small moan. The man looked at him and gave a slight grin, but said nothing. He grabbed a bar of soap and a huge, silky white towel before he headed off the showers. Shane was determined to dress quickly and escape, but he sat watching the man instead. The bar of soap caressed the skin that Shane could only hope to touch, slipping into areas that made Shane's face heat.
The shower shut off. Shane averted his eyes just as the man wrapped himself in the towel. The slapping sound of wet feet on the locker room floor. When he neared, the scent of sandalwood mixed with the man's natural scent. Shane wanted to speak to the man so badly. He wanted to know more about him. His name. What he did for a living. Anything. The crushing silence was broken when the man cleared his throat. Shane's head snapped toward him.
"Do I know you?" the man asked Shane.
Shane shook his head, too afraid to speak.
"You're Shane McAllister, right?"
Shane's eyes widened. "Yeah, how did you know?"
An easy smile graced the man's face. "We used to go to school together." A large hand reached to breach the gap. "You probably don't remember. I was a grade behind you. I'm Cary Grant."
Shane laughed and Cary blushed.
"Yeah, I've heard them all. What can I say, my Nana was a fan."
Shane floundered, trying to think of something to say. Anything so the conversation wouldn't end, but he came up empty.
"I...I like your towel." Shane cringed inwardly, knowing how lame it sounded.
"Thanks. I own Flight Delights. We take old parachutes and recycle them into sheets, towels, stuff like that. This one was the very first thing I ever made from one. Check it out."
Cary handed Shane the towel, heavy with Shane's dampness. He stroked his fingers lovingly across the material that had graced the man's body.
"It's nice," Shane said, barely above a whisper.
"Thank you," Cary replied, his own voice sounding husky to Shane’s ears.
Shane was fascinated. He watched Cary, unable to tear his eyes from the man. The near black hair was pasted to his head, making him look so young. The grin he kept sharing didn't take away from that assumption.
"What do you say we head out and grab some dinner? My treat."
Shane shook his head. "I...I can't. I have to get home and feed Matilda."
Shane quirked a brow. "Matilda? Do I dare to ask?"
"She's an old German Shepherd. I adopted her from the pound when she was a puppy. She's completely blind, has been since birth, but I've never met a dog that was more eager to please. She really makes my life less--" Shane could see Cary staring, waiting for him to finish the sentence. But what to say? Less miserable? Less lonely? In the end, he opted to say nothing at all. "Anyway, I should probably go. It was nice meeting you--well, seeing you again."
Shane reached into the locker, grabbed his bag, stood and slammed the door closed.
"Shane?" came a timid call.
Shane stopped. He didn't want to turn around. He was afraid that Cary would ask him about dinner again and this time Shane wouldn't be able to say no. "What's up?"
"I'm here Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. You know, if you're interested in getting together or something."
Shane frowned. How he longed to step out of the closet. To be with someone who would care for him. He was tired of the quick tricks in darkened bathrooms or alleys. He wanted to hold a man in his arms, feel their hearts beating together, make love for hours. To finally say the three words he wanted to hear in return.
"Maybe. We'll see. You take care, okay?"
"Yeah, sure. Thanks," Cary said softly, sounding defeated.
Shane's step wasn't very lively when he began to walk away. He hated himself for what he'd just done. He hated himself for his desires. He hated his life. He picked up the pace, wanting nothing more than to get home to Matilda and the unconditional love she gave him. Just before he stepped through the door, he swore he heard Cary say, "Shane, life outside of the closet isn't as scary as you might think. I'll be there and help you through it, I swear.
Shane glanced back to Cary who was packing his gym bag. He smiled and called out, "Cary? I'll be here Wednesday, okay?"
Cary's smile radiated such warmth that Shane couldn't help but return it. "Sounds good. I look forward to seeing you again."
Shane finally tore himself away and headed to his car. His heart was just a little bit lighter and for the first time in his life, he thought he might finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.
