CrinkleKid
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Out of Nowhere - Chapter Two
🕑 Added 2022-07-21 05:58:49 +0000 UTCTWO CK posts in one month?? Yep! But that’s not all, I’m already well into chapter 3 of this story. AAAAAND…. I’ve begun working on chapter 1 of the final book in Max Covington’s series! And somehow I’ve done all this in spite of a very stuffed-full social calendar lately. Must be something in the air!
So yeah, normally here’s where I’d give you a huge wall of text about my life, but for once I’m going to spare you and just jump straight into the story. Things are good though, fear not! I’ll give you a proper update on what’s been going on soon. But for now, here’s chapter 2 of “Out of Nowhere”. It’s a bit short, but we’re building to something here and I hope you enjoy it.
<3 CK
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CHAPTER TWO
Adam was just crushing the last of the newly empty boxes when he saw the time on his microwave’s display. He’d worked up a sweat unpacking dishes and kitchenware, so he decided to take a quick shower to make himself more presentable. Once thoroughly clean and dry, he began sifting through the open boxes of clothes in the bedroom. “That’ll work,” he muttered to himself as he surveyed his prize: a pair of black boxer briefs, a pair of relaxed-fit jeans, a burgundy polo shirt, and a pair of white calf-high athletic socks with colored bands near the tops. I hate those socks, he thought, eyeing the cotton legwear with distaste. But all the short ones that aren’t still in boxes are in the hamper, he considered warily. They’ll just have to be good enough.
Adam dressed quickly, then shoved his keys and phone into his jeans pockets. He’d no sooner stepped into the hallway than he remembered the bottle of wine with a faint gasp. He quickly ducked back into his apartment to retrieve the glass bottle from his fridge, then he returned to his neighbor’s door. He knocked three times, then smoothed his hair down with his free hand.
When no response came after several moments, he knocked louder. Another full minute passed, and he was just about to give up and return to his apartment when he heard the elevator in the middle of the hall chime.
Mikey swore as he stepped off the elevator. “Is it seven already? I am so sorry,” he said, shaking his head as he closed the distance between himself and Adam. He was carrying a fairly full paper grocery sack. “I didn’t realize I was at the store so long. We ran out of cream for the alfredo, so I ran out to restock and pick up a few other things. Kevin’s showering, I bet,” he said as he worked his keys out of his pocket with his free hand.
Adam followed Mikey through the door and into the kitchen. “Just set that down anywhere,” Mikey said, gesturing to the bottle of wine. He bent and retrieved a pot from a low cabinet. “Please make yourself at home,” he said as he put the pot on the heating surface of the electric range. “Hey Alissa, play my chillout playlist,” he called out.
“Sure, playing your chillout playlist,” a smartspeaker replied from the living room. A soft jazz piano began resonating through the apartment.
Adam smiled and took a seat on the sofa, in the same spot he’d sat earlier. Through the open bar window between the living room and kitchen, he watched Mikey begin adding his chicken alfredo ingredients to a sizable pan with a simmering, bubbly hiss. “Can I get you a drink?’ he called to Adam.
“I’m fine, thanks,” Adam replied with a smile. This apartment was a mirrored version of his own, and his eyes swept the room as he began making mental notes about how Mikey and Kevin had placed their furniture. He’d wondered what to do with that tiny recessed window nook; they had placed a glazed pot with a tall, slender plant with waxy fronds in front of it, and it filled the awkwardly narrow space nicely. Smart, he thought.
“Did I hear voices?” called out someone from the back of the apartment. Kevin, Adam figured.
“Yep! Our new neighbor’s here, and I’ve got the alfredo going. Come out and be sociable, you old troll,” Mikey teased from the kitchen.
Kevin was much older than Adam had expected. The man had short, silvered hair and looked to be around Adam’s age, if not a little older. He was wearing thick horn rimmed glasses that amplified the crows’ feet at his eyes, as well as slacks and a white dress shirt and violet tie under a burgundy sweater-vest. He seemed to be fit, but for the bit of spare tire around his midsection. So Kevin’s a DILF, Adam thought as he rose to his feet. He stuck out his hand. “Heya, I’m Adam, your neighbor in 208. You’re Kevin?” He smiled warmly as Kevin shook his hand in a surprisingly firm grip.
“Good to meet you, Adam. Mikey mentioned you work over at St. Mercy?” The man’s voice was deep and velvet.
“Yep, just moved here a few weeks ago. I’m a nurse. It’s great to meet you,” Adam replied. “Thanks so much for having me over for dinner, I can’t tell you how excited I am to be eating something that doesn’t need to be microwaved.”
Kevin took a seat in the recliner Mikey had perched in earlier, and Adam sat back down on the couch. “So, what do you think of our city so far?” Kevin asked.
“Oh, I love it,” Adam said. “I confess I haven’t gotten to see much of it yet, but I’ve liked what I have seen. It’s so cool to be able to do anything I want, even early in the morning after a long shift at the hospital. Where I’m from, everything closes at nine.” He chuckled.
“Where’s that?” Kevin asked curiously.
“A little town called Nowhere, Nebraska,” Adam replied. “Yes, I grew up in the middle of Nowhere.” Again he laughed at his go-to joke. “We’re famous for our corn, you know.” His eyes glimmered with mirth in the warm lights of the apartment.
Kevin smiled broadly. “Well, I hope you aren’t feeling a lack of corn now that you’re here. I’m sure we’ve got some frozen creamed corn in the freezer if you’re homesick.”
Adam shook his head. “If I never see another ear of corn as long as I live, it’ll still be too soon,” he laughed. “Mikey mentioned you run an art gallery downtown?”
Kevin nodded. “The Feldmann-Scott Gallery. You’ll have to come take a look sometime. We’ve got a pretty significant Vermeer collection and a few impressive Rembrandts. We specialize in 17th century Baroque artists.”
“Yaaaaaaaawn,” Mikey intoned dramatically from the kitchen. “Boring old dead guys. Call me when you have a Banksy,” he said as he stirred the alfredo.
“Believe it or not, Mikey, the art of today wouldn’t exist without some of those boring old dead guys,” Kevin said in mock indignation. Adam had the feeling that this was an ongoing household debate that wouldn’t be resolved any time soon, and he immediately decided to remain as neutral as possible.
Mikey rolled his eyes. “Dinner’s ready, old fart. Wanna get fancy and eat at the actual table?”
Kevin rose from his seat. “I’ll put out place settings. Hopefully the effort won’t be too much for my poor, tired, decrepit old bones, sonny.” He shook his head, a smile turning up one corner of his mouth. He walked to the kitchen and opened one of the overhead cabinets, revealing a stack of forest green earthenware plates.
“How long have you guys been together?” Adam asked from the couch. “If you don’t mind me being nosy, that is,” he added hastily.
“As a couple? Four years. As a married couple? Next month will be two years,” Mikey said as he collected silverware from one of the kitchen drawers. He passed the utensils to Kevin. “But you’re probably wondering about the age gap.”
Adam blushed a bit. “No judgment at all,” he said. “It’s just something I haven’t seen before.”
“No worry,” Kevin said as he gestured for Adam to take a seat at the small circular dining table. “We’re pretty used to it. I’m old enough to be Mikey’s dad, after all. As ironic as that is.” The man smiled as he took a seat next to Adam.
Ironic? Adam wondered. Different, maybe, but I don’t see what’s ironic about it. Besides, they seem like a good match. Adam found himself a bit envious of their easy, domestic back-and-forth.
“Here babe, open the wine,” Mikey said, passing Kevin the bottle that Adam had brought. Mikey turned to Adam. “Trust me, we pick on each other about our ages all the time. You’ll get used to us, it’s part of our charm,” he laughed musically and took a seat on Adam’s other side.
The fettuccine alfredo was as good as anything Adam had ever had in a restaurant, and he couldn’t help but ask for seconds as soon as his plate was empty. “Where’d you learn to cook like this?” he asked Mikey, impressed.
“From my grandma, actually,” Mikey said. “She’s a second-generation Italian immigrant. She learned everything she knows from my great grandma, and so on, back through the generations. This is an old family recipe, though it’s been tweaked many times over the years. I’m glad you like it!” He refilled Adam’s wine glass.
The meal was excellent, but the companionship was better. Adam hadn’t realized how lonely he’d been, or how much he missed his friends back in Nowhere. After dinner came tiramisu and more wine, and then Mikey and Adam migrated back to the living room while Kevin cleared the table. Adam’s head was nicely buzzy and his belly was full. He sighed, content, and settled in on the couch next to Mikey.
“Soooooo…” Mikey began. “I have a confession to make. I had an ulterior motive, inviting you to dinner tonight,” he said.
“Oh?” Adam asked, curious, as Kevin took position in the recliner.
“Yup,” Mikey said sincerely. “But the first question is, are you free to hang for a bit? Because it’s almost ten, and we don’t want to keep you if you need to head to bed for work tomorrow. Especially now that I know you’re, ah, a bit sleep deprived.” He chuckled bashfully.
Adam shook his head. “That’s not an issue, I’m off for the next few days. We do four day, ten-hour shifts, then we’re off for three days. Other than maybe doing a bit more unpacking, I’ve got no plans for tomorrow.”
“Perfect,” Mikey said, giving Kevin an odd glance Adam couldn’t help wondering at.
“Why do you ask?” Adam tilted his head, suddenly aware that the mood in the room had shifted in some significant, unidentifiable way. Maybe it was the piercing gaze Mikey was giving him, or the intense interest with which Kevin was watching the pair on the couch from his seat in the recliner. Maybe it was how the apartment suddenly seemed too quiet, too still and a little too warm. There was a definite anticipation in the air, like in the charged moments before the onset of a summer thunderstorm, as if some atmospheric energy was moments away from unleashing itself. Adam swallowed.
“Well, Mikey and I had plans for the evening,” Kevin said in a low voice, “and we were wondering if you’d like to join us.”
“What sort of plans?” Adam asked warily.
“This sort,” Mikey said. He scooted closer to Adam on the couch, and his face began moving forward and up toward the taller man’s face. His lips were suddenly, gently pressing against Adam’s lips. And, before Adam could even formulate a coherent thought, Mikey’s tongue was sliding between his teeth and exploring, skating along the surface of Adam’s tongue.
While his brain struggled to take in this unexpected new development, Adam’s body was much quicker on the uptake. With some degree of surprise, he could feel himself beginning to stiffen within his boxer briefs, and he was even more surprised when he found himself kissing the young, spiky-haired blonde back with real enthusiasm.
