Latest gay erotic stories: Safe Deposit – by Transverse. Sam really didn’t think he’d say yes. It was an insane request, and it’s just the sort of thing a serial killer would say to get into someone’s house and set up cameras or something.
Latest gay erotic stories: Safe Deposit – Chapter 1
Sam certainly wouldn’t have believed the story if someone had called him with it. But the man had believed it, and he told Sam to come over on Sunday afternoon and he’d see if he could help.
Maybe it was the place. Clarksville had a thousand residents if you counted the stray cats. There wasn’t even a school — what few children there were had to go to New Philly. There was almost nobody under fifty, and the VFW outpost was the only place that even sold alcohol. Yesterday, Sam had seen a real policeman — no spring chicken himself — helping an old woman across the street. So the man might have been desperate for some entertainment, Sam thought.
Still, now that he was here, he couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. It was one thing to make phone calls and wonder before he fell asleep about the mystery that had become his life; it added some mystique that Sam hadn’t known he’d been missing. But now he was confronted with the truth — he hadn’t expected anyone to answer, had never thought he’d find any answers at all. The closer he got to his destination, the less sure he felt that he even wanted answers.
Even the earth seemed to be telling him to go the fuck home. There had been a bastard of a snowstorm the night before, and while the freeway and state highways had been plowed clean, the town roads were another story. They weren’t impassable by any means, but he did have to crawl along pretty slow, giving him extra time to think about his impulsive decision to come here.
The forecast predicted another storm within a day, and this new one would make the roads impassable, at least for a few hours. Get in, and get the fuck out, Sam thought to himself.
The snow had stopped falling for the time being, so at least Sam could see the address. The small house was on a main street beside a church, across the street from a row of shops. There were old-fashioned Christmas lights around the windows and the part of the roof that could be seen from the street. A plastic reindeer was barely visible under the snow that had fallen the night before; it looked like something out of The Shining. A miniature something, but still.
Sam pulled up in front of the house, parking so he didn’t block the driveway.
The owner hadn’t shoveled his sidewalk that morning, so Sam had to trudge through a foot of snow to reach the door. No doorbell, so he knocked, praying that someone would answer the damn thing; he was wearing a coat, but it wasn’t enough to keep him warm out here for long.
The thumping of footsteps on the other side of the door was very loud, and Sam had a moment to wonder just how big this guy was before the door opened. He needn’t have worried; the man was five six — if that — and didn’t look very strong. He had a small frame and a friendly face, with hair that was long on top so some of it hung down into his eyes, the color of which Sam couldn’t discern.
The guy beamed at him. Sam had never seen such an unguarded smile on an adult before; it was a little disconcerting. And the man hadn’t sounded like a wood sprite during their phone conversations.
“Are you Sam?”
Sam wondered how many people the guy was expecting to come calling in this fucking weather.
“Sam I am,” he said. It was an old joke, but he liked it, so fuck it. “I’m here about…” He trailed off. The man knew why he was here. Sam held up the small brown box he was carrying in lieu of continuing.
“Of course, come on in.” He padded aside with bare feet so Sam could pass.
It was sparsely decorated, but that was for the best considering the size of the place. Most of the furniture was brown with the exception of a cream couch that looked newer than most of the other stuff. The walls were all wood panel as far as Sam could see, but he wouldn’t judge the guy too hard for that.
“You can just sit on the couch there.” The man pointed — as if that were necessary — and headed around a corner into a small kitchen.
“Beer?” he called.
“Sure.” Sam sat on the couch and opened the box, wondering how to begin. When the guy had actually invited him out, he had been so surprised that he’d come without preparing a live presentation of all this.
The guy came back and dropped onto the couch beside him. Sam thought he moved pretty quick for a guy in his thirties — speedy, but graceful. He set the beers on the table and looked expectantly at Sam.
The bright way he said it made Sam imagine an exclamation point at the end of it, but he reached for Thomas’s hand anyway. The knit sweater he was wearing was so oversized that Thomas had to pull it back to expose his hand. It was only then that Sam noticed the holly leaves that were printed on the ends of the sleeves.
“I know I should have introduced myself earlier, but I forgot. It’s a habit.”
Sam took his beer and opened it; Thomas was right. Sam hadn’t known his name despite all his research. He knew the guy — Thomas — had bought the place recently, but he hadn’t been able to find a name. Which was crazy, but then, so was everything else about this.
“It’s a habit not to introduce yourself after fifteen phone calls?”
He laughed, a throaty sound that was more like his phone voice had been. Sexier. Sam could kick himself for thinking it, but it wasn’t like it was a surprise — it might have been a while, but a sexy voice was like catnip to him. And he hadn’t known he was going to get a greeting card character when he met the guy in person.
Now he felt stupid, and that was on top of the ambient weirdness that permeated this whole situation.
He tried not to let it show on his face.
“Yeah, I’m a voice actor. Well, some of the time. There’s not much work in this area, and my voice isn’t suited to everything. But mostly I’m a baker.”
“Jack of all trades, huh?”
Sam hadn’t meant for it to sound sarcastic, but Thomas’s dimming smile told him that intent wasn’t magic.
“Just the two trades.” He sounded a lot less like an elf, and there was no exclamation point that time.
Sam took a large breath; it helped him to resist the urge to try and make Thomas feel better. He didn’t know this guy and didn’t owe him more than courtesy. He was here for a purpose; when he had what he needed, he would never see the guy again. He looked down at the box in his lap so he wouldn’t have to stare at Thomas’s cautious expression.
“Well, I don’t want to waste too much of your time.” He opened the box and busied his hands with moving the stuff around inside. Fidgeting wouldn’t make this any easier, but he was suddenly struck with the feeling that this was wrong, that he shouldn’t have come here. Thomas seemed to sense his unease, because he placed a sweater-covered hand on Sam’s forearm and squeezed. Sam stopped moving, still not looking at him.
“Maybe you should just tell me everything,” Thomas said, and God help Sam, this was the phone voice. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he keep his head straight?
“You already know most of it,” Sam said, embarrassed. There was a shake in his voice and he didn’t want to look too closely at all the reasons for it. He just wanted to get this over with and get out of here. If he didn’t, he would do something he’d regret; he could feel it in his bones. “Not much else to say, really.”
“But there are a few more things to say?”
His voice was smooth and low and poured over Sam like honey. This was so fucking inappropriate, and the guy would probably kick him out on his ass if he knew what Sam was thinking. Sam tried to steady himself, breathing in through his nose.
“It’s just…” He searched for the right words to continue, to explain. His feelings were difficult to put into words, but that shouldn’t have been a surprise. It had always been that way for him. “He couldn’t have picked me at random, you know?” He shook his head. “We had to have met at some point, right? But I’ve looked — believe me, I’ve checked thoroughly — and our paths have never crossed. Not once. And…”
He sighed. “I don’t know, it’s like there’s nothing left of him, like he just disappeared. Like people just…forgot about him.”
The words hung in the air and Sam’s embarrassment deepened. That had come out so much more personal than he’d wanted; this was supposed to be an anthropological exercise of sorts. He shouldn’t sound so involved. Thomas would think he was crazy.
Not that he cared what Thomas thought.
“Well, you two obviously never met, right?” Thomas’s tone was casual but his words carried a weight that Sam wasn’t sure was warranted, not so soon after Sam had met him. “It makes sense that it seems that way. Like he just disappeared. He appeared without warning, right?”
Thomas’s hand was still on his arm. It felt heavy, like it was going to topple Sam over somehow. “Yeah,” Sam said slowly. “Yeah, that’s true.”
His voice was small and quiet, which embarrassed him further.
He really needed to get a grip.
Also in this series:
- Safe Deposit - Chapter 2
- Safe Deposit - Chapter 3
- Safe Deposit - Chapter 4
- Safe Deposit - Chapter 5
- Safe Deposit - Chapter 6
- Safe Deposit - Chapter 7
- Safe Deposit - Chapter 8