Someone to Bank on

by Carson Wescot

  “Turn around and let me see how they fit in the back,” Grant slyly suggested. “Oh yeah…nice!”

  Wiggling his ass, Bobby said, “Letch!”

  Giving it a pinch, Grant came back with, “Now do you see why Doris didn’t get this job?”

  Wearing just the loaner pair of skimpy but clean briefs, Bobby was about to make up a bed for himself on the couch when Grant stopped him.

  “I slept there last night, and I don’t recommend it. Friends can sleep together, can’t they? Get your perky ass in my bed before I whip it. I promise I won’t molest you or anything.”

  “Yes, sir!” Bobby replied but couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed in thinking of Grant and him being “just friends.” Still, it was a step above what they had been 48 hours ago, and any night spent sleeping next to Grant would be a thousand times better than going home to Rodney and his churlish friends. He fished out his new toothbrush and got ready for bed.

  They kept their underwear on all night, but Grant didn’t complain when Bobby positioned himself close to the center of the bed. Exhausted, Bobby quickly drifted off. The last thing he was aware of was a gentle goodnight pat on his bottom. He slept like a rock till morning.

  Grant should have slept as soundly as his young friend, especially after spending the previous night on his lumpy couch, but sleep was slow in coming. He tossed and turned, feeling very conflicted about the emotions that were starting to gnaw away in his gut. He was feeling things for Bobby that not only surprised him but also concerned him. Marcus would be returning any day now from yet another extended romp through Europe, and he belonged to Marcus. Didn’t he?

  He hadn’t told Bobby about Marcus yet – mostly because he didn’t know what to say. They’d had an up and down long-distance relationship for the past several years, but Grant really would be hard pressed to describe what it had been – and especially what it was now, if anything.

  Grant had been young like Bobby when he had met Marcus, a dashing travel writer/photographer/lecturer from Philadelphia who was 11 years his senior. In a matter of days after their chance meeting in Lexington, Kentucky five years ago, Grant had fallen head over heels for the older man, who had been only too happy to exploit it to his advantage. Grant was 27 at the time, and Marcus was 38. He’d been a guest lecturer at the university that Grant had attended, and later worked at, and Grant was smitten from Day One. Before the night was over, they had had drinks, dinner, conversation – and each other.

  They had never lived together – nor really ever committed themselves to each other in so many words – but they met up whenever Marcus’ busy travel schedule would allow. Marcus maintained a small apartment and office in Philadelphia and would breeze into Grant’s location every so often, bring him gifts from countries he’d never even heard of, screw the daylights out of him, and be gone again in as little as 48 hours. He sent occasional postcards from six continents and even invited Grant to meet up with him in exotic locations around the world whenever Grant could get time off from his jobs, which was seldom.

  But Marcus had never given Grant the one thing that he wanted most – a commitment of monogamy and a 24/7 presence in his life. He was a man of the world, certainly not good husband material, but Grant had remained infatuated with – as well as faithful to – him despite suspecting that the man probably had a boy-toy of some sort in every corner of the world. Marcus would talk about “settling down” with him “someday soon,” but Grant suspected it was only lip service to keep Grant in his figurative cage. So far it had worked.

  He’d been in Europe for the past three months, and Grant had been expecting to hear from him any day. Sometimes Marcus would announce his arrival a few days ahead of time, but most of the time he would just show up at his door. He knew that Grant had relocated to downtown Nashville shortly after their last rendezvous and had his address. What he didn’t know was that Grant had just lost his job and broken his ankle – and that an intriguing young man named Bobby had just waltzed into his life, bathed him, washed his dirty underwear, restored his apartment to a livable condition, and was sleeping next to him – for tonight at least.

  Grant wasn’t usually attracted to men as young as Bobby, but he was finding that it was all he could do to keep his hands off this sweet, seemingly innocent, sexy young presence that had awakened something very primeval in him in just a little over 24 hours. Why hadn’t he seen the possibility of that when they were working together? In that short month he had regarded Bobby as little more than a twink with a tie on. But it was becoming obvious to him now that the young man had a lot more going for him than just looks and charm.

  Grant had bared his body, if not his soul, to Bobby and had entrusted him with his keys, access to his checking account, even awareness of his stash of porn, and the boy had responded with responsibility, grace, enthusiasm, good humor, and even a decent massage. Now here he was lying next to him nearly naked and purring away contentedly. How Grant wished sleep would come as easily to him!

  How was he going to watch him walk away tomorrow evening? In his heart he knew the answer to that – he wasn’t. Not for long anyway. Yes, Bobby had to go back to his apartment and get ready to return to work on Monday, but he would be back – Grant would see to that. Somehow.

  CHAPTER 6

  The tantalizing smell of fresh coffee the next morning made Grant aware that he had indeed fallen asleep at some point. It was nearly 9 a.m., and the other side of his bed was still somewhat warm but unoccupied. Still in his loaner underwear, Bobby was standing at the bedroom door waiting to see if the coffee aroma – or maybe the sight of him – would rouse his host.

  “Mornin’ Bobby. Is that coffee I smell? You’re up early.”

  “Mornin’ to you too, Grant, but no I’m not up early – you’re up late. How did you sleep?”

  “Like shit. You?”

  “Sorry to hear that. Was something on your mind?” Bobby responded, hoping it was he.

  “You could say that. I guess I’m not used to sleeping with anyone lately.”

  “Pity. Sorry if I kept you awake. You worked me so hard yesterday that I was almost asleep before you patted my ass. That was you, wasn’t it? Or did I just dream it?”

  “I might have had a hand in that. I thought you deserved a little something for that nice back massage you gave me. Maybe when I get this cast off I can return the favor – that is, if you’re interested.”

  “Promises, promises – you men are all alike. But I’m going to hold you to that someday. What would you like for breakfast? Cereal, eggs, or me?”

  “Don’t be such a tease. You need to have more respect for your elders, or I’ll beat you off with my crutch.”

  “Oooh, that would a first. What other tricks do you know?”

  “You’d be surprised, young man. Now fetch me some coffee while I hobble to the bathroom. Please.”

  “I’m glad you added that,” Bobby said with a grin.

  There really wasn’t much work to do that day, so after a leisurely breakfast in their underwear Grant and Bobby got dressed and went for a drive in Bobby’s new car –the one he’d just gotten for graduation from his family. Grant was elated at being out after a week’s confinement and didn’t even mind hobbling down a flight of stairs to gain his temporary release. The day was warm, but Grant happily inhaled the fresh morning air till his head spun, and took in the sight of nearly every tree and flower they passed – not to mention some of the nice two-legged scenery on the streets.

  After a drive around town they sat in Centennial Park for a while, went to a movie, ate popcorn, shopped for more groceries and beer, and returned to the apartment at 4 – and again stripped to their underwear. His lack of sleep finally caught up with Grant, so he took a nap while Bobby figured out what to fix for dinner.

  Over drinks and dinner, Grant was ready to make good on his determination to keep Bobby coming back. What Grant didn’t know was that Bobby didn’t need much encouragement, having already decided to offe
r his services for a bit longer.

  “Bobby, I keep saying it, but I hope you know how much I’ve appreciated everything you’ve done for me this weekend. I know you have to go back to work tomorrow, but I wonder if I could talk you into dropping by a couple of times a week with my mail and bringing me some provisions until I can get this cast off. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “You’re welcome, buddy. I’ve enjoyed being here – a lot in fact – and I was going to suggest the very same thing if you hadn’t brought it up first. But there’s just one stipulation.”

  “Anything – you name it.”

  “I consider you a friend now and don’t want your money. I’ll even clean for you again next weekend if you promise to try a little harder to keep the place up this week so I don’t have to pick up your dirty socks anymore. You do have a clothes hamper, you know,” he said, smiling. “I’ll bring you your mail on Wednesday evening and give you another bath – can you make it that long?”

  “You’ve got a deal. Here’s the money I promised you for yesterday and today – I want you to at least take that, and I’ll try to see that you won’t have so much work to do next weekend. But I’ll owe you big time if you keep pampering me this way.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure, Grant. I’m just glad you called me. To tell you the truth, I’ve missed you at the bank, and it’s worth a lot to me that we can be friends now despite the difference in our ages.” Bobby smiled at his own devilishness.

  “You just had to throw that in, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you this morning that you really should have more respect for your elders?”

  “Oh, I respect you all right – old man,” Bobby quipped. “Now I’d better get my clothes on and get my butt out of here. I have some of my own laundry to do if I want a clean shirt for work tomorrow. I’ll return these briefs to you next time I come back.”

  “I should make you leave them now,” Grant said with a smile, raising his eyebrows.

  Calling his bluff, Bobby whipped off the briefs Grant had loaned him the night before and tossed them into the surprised man’s lap, turning around to give him a 360-degree look before he put the rest of his clothes on.

  “You’re a tease, young man. A cute tease, but a tease nonetheless.”

  Having both enjoyed their weekend together immensely, neither man knew quite how to end it. Neither wanted to, but they knew it was necessary.

  “You don’t need to get up – I know my way out,” Bobby finally said.

  “Nonsense – I can’t give you a proper hug if I don’t stand up.”

  Bobby didn’t expect that, but he was certainly open to the idea of any kind of intimacy from Grant – even a chaste hug.

  “That’s a good reason – I’ll take you up on that. If it’s a nice one I might even hug you back.”

  It’s kind of hard hugging a man on crutches, but Bobby and Grant managed. It was a real hug, too – not a wimpy, quick pat on the back. It was clear that they both felt that a bond had developed between them over the past 48 hours, and neither one wanted to be the first to break the hug. Eventually Grant did, but not without planting a kiss on Bobby’s cheek, and Bobby reciprocated with one of his own.

  “Thanks again, Bobby. You made my weekend, and I’ll be looking forward to your visit Wednesday night after work. In fact, I’ll even see if I can rustle up some grub for us since I’ve got nothing but time on my hands. Don’t forget to pick up my mail for me – and maybe another $200 from the ATM if you have time.”

  They looked at each other again, and Grant thought he saw some moisture in Bobby’s eyes, which Bobby felt but hoped it didn’t show.

  “See you in the bathtub, ol’ man,” he grinned, reaching for the doorknob.

  “Better get outta here before I hog-tie you to a chair. I could get real used to you. And stop calling me ‘old.’”

  “Not a chance of that happening. Take care, man, and I’ll see you Wednesday.”

  Both men felt an emptiness after Bobby left. Bobby dreaded going back to the hovel he shared with Rodney, and all that Grant could think about for the rest of the night was the young man who had shared his bed – albeit platonically – last night. He brought the still-warm undies to his nose and deeply inhaled the scent of his young weekend visitor. It was almost intoxicating to him. He knew he cared for Marcus, but this experience had been something different for him. Very different. And he liked it.

  As for Bobby, he didn’t know what to think. Nothing had prepared him for the intense feelings that had resulted from his weekend alone with the man he had looked up to so much during their brief time together at the bank. All he was sure of was that Grant Collins had spoiled him for any other man. For the next few days he would think of little else but bathing and doing for Grant – the most intriguing man he had ever known in his young life.

  And seemingly the most unattainable.

  The next three days would drag by slowly for both men. Grant retreated to his couch and TV, with an occasional surf session through his favorite Internet sites. But he found little in any of it to take his mind off his new caretaker. He was the genuine deal – everything else was just fluff and nonsense. The blue briefs Bobby had removed and left behind Sunday night were never far from his reach.

  He knew just what he would attempt to fix for dinner on Wednesday, although he was more aware than anyone else of his shortcomings in the culinary area. But he thought he could do a decent meatloaf without screwing it up too badly.

  He also tried a little harder to keep the place from once again becoming the dump that he had allowed it to become in the prior week. He wasn’t generally a sloppy person, but the physical limitations of being on crutches – not to mention the depression he felt from losing his job and becoming temporarily isolated from others – had failed to generate any kind of enthusiasm for things like getting his dirty socks into the hamper or keeping his dishes washed up. He was glad that Marcus had not chosen that particular week to make one of his rare appearances.

  If there’s anything that Marcus can’t abide, he mused, it’s clutter – that and monogamy.

  On the other hand, he wanted to leave enough work for Bobby to do next weekend that the boy – no, he was a man and a damn good one – would find it necessary to stick around for the better part of it. Bobby’s visits were becoming his lifeline, and Grant found that he was craving them more than anything but food and sleep. The thought of Bobby sleeping next to him again – would he? – kept him going, more than any amount of laundry or dishes the guy might do for him.

  Bobby was on pins and needles Monday and Tuesday as well. He didn’t exactly know why it had been so rewarding to clean Grant’s messy apartment most of the weekend, but it had seemed a small task for $100 – and especially the chance to get to know Grant on a very personal level. It was hard to get any work done at the bank because he kept replaying the intimate bathing scenes and the massage session over and over in his mind all day.

  He wondered if he had gone too far with his teasing and his suggestive comments and actions, but Grant hadn’t seemed to mind. But neither had he taken the bait yet. Something was definitely holding the older man back. On the other hand, he had been invited back, and that was of immense comfort and hope to Bobby as he waited for Wednesday.

  Two days later he was still feeling Grant’s good-bye kiss on his cheek.

  CHAPTER 7

  Wednesday finally rolled around, and Bobby went to the post office on his lunch hour to pick up Grant’s mail. Again, he couldn’t resist the urge to glance through it to see if there was anything that looked interesting. A colorful postcard of the Eiffel Tower caught his eye, and he turned it over. The postmark was three weeks old. He could hardly decipher the cramped handwriting:

  “Bonjour, mon cher! How are things in Music City? Hope you’re settling in there and that all’s going well at the bank. I’m wrapping things up over here for now and can’t wait to see you again. Will be scooting through various places in the U.S. soon. Have lots to te
ll you. Je t’aime! xxx Marcus”

  A chill went through Bobby as he read something that he probably shouldn’t have. Whoever this Marcus was, it was clear that he and Grant had at least a special friendship…if not something much more. Bobby knew enough French to be certain of that.

  He would have to decide whether to ask Grant about Marcus or wait and see if he brought it up himself, knowing that Bobby would probably have read the card before delivering it. Either way it seemed to cast a pall over the excitement that had built up over the past three days’ absence from his new friend.

  Grant was too perfect in Bobby’s mind to be single, but there had been no sign last weekend from the man that he was in any way attached to another guy. Bobby knew that Grant probably didn’t find him as attractive as Bobby found Grant, but still he had – if he admitted it to himself – harbored hopes that maybe their new friendship could possibly turn into something more. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  Back in the office for the afternoon, Bobby decided to pick up the phone and see what groceries or other provisions the man might want him to bring in after work.

  “Hi, Grant – how are you?”

  “Bobby – great to hear your voice! I hope you’re still planning on coming over after work. I’ve got dinner all planned out for us.”

  “Sure am, buddy. But don’t knock yourself out. I can help, you know.”

  “Yes, I know what kind of good help you are. Been climbing the walls here for some company again. I hope you can stay a few hours. I have something to talk to you about.”

  “I’m all yours for the evening, man. What can I pick up for you on the way?”

  “Just my mail and some more cash. I have enough food on hand until you can shop for me next weekend. You are coming back then, aren’t you?”

  “Well, I haven’t had a better offer yet, but the week is still young.”