The Untitled Story of Two Guys

The Untitled Story of Two Guys

Chapter 1:

I sighed as I lugged the last of my suitcase up the narrow stairway and into the tiny hallway. I stood in front of the brown, mahogany colored door, the silver handle shining. The whole door was beckoning me to go inside, into the mysterious place where I now would be living. That is if I entered the apartment. The hallway was empty and there was a streak of sunlight peeking through from the gaps in the thick, maroon drapes that hung over the huge bay window in the middle of the two apartments. As I stared wistfully out of the window into the New York streets, I felt myself dreading this new experience. Moving to New York, that is. And considering the fact that I moved from the suburbs of New Jersey, New York is an entirely, different place.

The bustling streets, the noisy shops, all the activities and movements going on around you. Multicultural people could be found everywhere, Indians, Chinese people, Indonesian. All kinds of people could be found here in New York City, unlike in the suburbs of New Jersey where your most likely to find Caucasian people wandering around the streets with an exception of an Indian. My dad had always said that the suburbs are too quite for Indians. In fact half of our population in New Jersey is Indians. Amazing right? But most of them tend to live in the cities, not the quiet suburbs meant for the rich and snobby. But of course my family and I aren't rich and snobby.

As I continually stare at the plain, wooden door I find myself missing Dad and Derek. My only family are those two. After my mom had me, my dad had confessed to my mother that he liked guys instead of girls. My mom being one of those really, uptight people left my dad to raise me by himself. Of course a few years later he met Derek, my other dad. But Derek likes me to call him by his name because it would be less confusing by not calling both of them dads. I love Derek and Dad. They make an amazing couple and they're very much in love.

I had received a wondrous job here in New York City, that is a photography job. I love taking pictures. It's my passion. Back in New Jersey, I took pictures of wonderful scenes and had sold them at Dad and Derek's book shop. They sold for quite a lot of money and the thought of making money while doing something I love had me very excited. I sought out for bigger, better jobs that could offer more money. Of course, it wasn't just for me. It was for Dad and Derek too. After six months of hard searching, a company decided to hire me as a scene model photographer. I would be taking pictures of models in various scenes. As I had flipped through their photography magazine looking at some of the amazing photographs taken, I was truly amazed and just could not resist accepting the offer.

Unfortunately, the company that hired me worked here in New York City. Meaning I would have to move from the quiet suburbs of New Jersey to the loud, populated city of New York. When I had told Dad and Derek of this, they encouraged me to take the job. I was set on forgetting about it but they veered the course of my mind. Now here I was all excitement gone, nervous as hell to even step into my apartment. The company had offered to pay for my apartment bills. But of course I would be paying for the monthly stay. I shifted the weight from my left to my right foot as I still stood outside the apartment door surrounded by a million bags. Well okay I'm exaggerating but there were many bags. Dad and Derek would've been here to help but I told them to stay where they were since it was their anniversary.

I felt dread in the very pit of stomach as the door in front of my apartment opened startling me causing me to knock one of the several luggage bags over. The guy that stepped out was indeed very gorgeous. He looked like a Greek god, like Adonis standing there wearing pajama pants and no t-shirt. A toothbrush hanging from his mouth and his chiseled chest full on display. I could feel myself drooling already as I stared at this handsome god.

"Hey man," was all the mysterious god said to break me out of my reverie. Only to realize I was standing there gawking at him like an idiot. I stutter as I try to say an apology and all he does is lift up a hand signaling to stop and chuckles. My cheeks flush that red color that no one wants to be dead, set caught with. I feel the burning, pooling blood beneath my cheeks as we both stand there. Him silently chuckling, me? Well right now I'm cursing at myself for looking like such an idiot.

I'm still staring at him as he looks around the crowded hallway, crowded from all my suitcases before asking for help. His voice is smooth and languid for a guy that looks to be 21. It's not rough and scratchy like you would assume most older boys to be but wonderful sounding. I think I just died and went to heaven as he picked up two suitcases in one hand and wrenched open the door of my apartment before walking inside. Only than did I notice that once again I was staring. I silently curse myself, before picking up two suitcases one in each hand, marveling at his strength as he appears once again in the doorway and grabs this time three suitcases. He chuckles at my expression and walks inside silently. In only 5 minutes all 7 of suitcases are inside and now only the boxes remain. As I placed the boxes down in the apartment silently I tried not to let my eye wander around in fear of tearing up and maybe looking, more specifically staring at the Greek god that was currently unpacking a box on my coffee table.

Caught in my thinking I didn't realize that he was in my what I supposed was my bedroom laughing. I walked in there confused only to feel my cheeks pool up in blood, the blush evidently clear on my face. In his hands, he was holding up a pair of my Spongebob boxers. I blushed hard as I snatched the boxers from his hands. In my haste the suitcase fell off from the bed and the contents inside of it spilled out of the bag. Now my bedroom floor was covered is different boxers ranging from Disney boxers to of course my Spongebob ones. He bursts out laughing again as he picks up my "I Love You" boxers. I blush even harder if that's possible before wrenching those out of his hands too.

This mysterious god was in my bedroom looking at my boxers. Someone please pinch me and tell me I'm dreaming.