Thursday, May 30, 2013

The family that preys together…- 35



Crispin woke wondering for a moment where he was because he definitely wasn’t in his own bedroom. Then he remembered and wondered what in the world had prompted him to accept Kent’s invitation. But he had and it was too late to do anything about it. A fast check of the time told him he had a couple of hours before he had to be to work, and then he realized it was Saturday.

“Now what,” he muttered to himself as he threw back the covers and sat up, looking for the bathroom. “Damn, it’s an apartment so it’s probably down the hall.” A quick check and he saw his clothes neatly folded on a chair. Getting up he pulled on his slacks and cautiously opened the bedroom door.

“You’re awake,” Kent called cheerfully from the kitchen doorway. “I’ve got coffee going. If you want a shower it’s down the hall. I put out clean towels for you.”

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Crispin nodded his thanks before heading in the indicated direction. Fifteen minutes later he returned down the hall feeling marginally more awake. Kent saw him and immediately came over, handing him a cup of coffee.

“I’ve got sugar, sweetener and half-and-half if you need it.”

“No, this is fine thanks.”

“Ah, a man’s man who takes it straight.”

Crispin chuckled. “It’s coffee, Kent, not whiskey.”

“Good point.”

There was a long pause while the two men wondered what to say to each other now. Crispin sipped his coffee; Kent nervously bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Do you have to..?” “I really should…” they said at the same time, and then laughed.

“I guess I should finish dressing and head out, let you have your place to yourself,” Crispin said first.

“It’s Saturday, you don’t have to work do you?” When Crispin shook his head Kent went on. “There’s a new movie playing down the street. They have an eleven o’clock show we could catch.”

Kent looked so hopeful Crispin felt almost guilty when he said he really should head back home, so he told him, “Perhaps next weekend.”

“Great! I mean, sure that would work.”

“Then we have…a date.”

“We do.” Impulsively Kent hugged him, stepping back quickly. “Go get dressed.”

“Going, going.” Crispin looked at him for a long moment before returning to the bedroom. As he dressed he wondered about his reaction to the hug because much to his surprise he’d liked it, even as quick as it had been, and deep down inside he wished he’d had the nerve to return it.

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