I handed the keys and paperwork to the clerk absently, finishing my phone call quickly so I wouldn’t hold up the line. Marge could handle things in the office just fine, and I had stuff I needed to do, starting with the tune up.
I wasn’t prepared for the cutest little Asian hunk ever to meet my gaze.
“Sorry, had to take care of something at the office,” I explained.
“No problem, Mr...Callahan,” he said, flashing a gorgeous smile.
“Please, call me Jay,” I said.
“Kim,” he said. “I know, how stereotypical, right?” He had a surprisingly deep voice, but just a hint of boyishness to it. Messy black hair, incredible cheekbones, even teeth, intense but friendly brown eyes.
“Nah, suits you.”
“Always thought it was a girly name.” He handed me the clipboard to sign. Wow, that was a hell of an arm.
“I don’t think anyone thinks ‘girly’ when they see you, Kim. Not with those arms!”
Goodness, he blushed. Delicious.
“Heh, thanks. Look it’s pretty slammed today, may be a while. You okay to wait?”
“Sure, I figured there would be a wait. Brought my iPad.”
“Cool, we will try to get you out as soon we can.”
Kim seemed to be the busiest guy in the place, so I was able to watch him unobtrusively for a few hours. His shirt was tight in all the right places, and those overalls rode a much firmer and full ass than I usually saw in Korean guys. He split his time between the front and the shop, never slowing down, always friendly but serious. Confident but sweet, charming the mostly female clientele, some of whom found reason to suddenly feign interest in the shop floor visible through the window. I wasn’t the only one drawn to the friendly, built hunk with the messy hair and lopsided grin. He always found time to make eye contact with me as he passed, which was nice, but I didn’t let myself be fooled.
He was maybe 30, and I was pushing 45. Sure, my blond hair laid nicely and I’d just got a good haircut, and I had been told I had a nice smile and nice eyes, but I was a desk jockey and it had taken its toll on my physique. It had been a while since I was target of flirting, and after a rather embarrassing moment last year at Pride, I had found it safer to assume I was misreading the signals. I closed my eyes, thinking how nice it would be to recapture even the body I’d had when I was in my 30s.
I woke to a pleasantly calloused hand gently rousing me.
“Jay? Mr Callahan?”
I opened my eyes to see hunky Kim leaning over me.
“Sorry, must have dozed off,”I said, sitting up embarrassed.
“It’s okay, sorry I had to wake you!” Again with those eyes and smile. “I have some bad news...”
Turns out there was a problem with my car, and if I hadn’t brought it in for the tune up, I might have had some serious problems. Unfortunately, the part wasn’t on hand and couldn’t be had until tomorrow morning.
“I guess I can get an uber or something.”
“I can drop you off. I am off in fifteen minutes,” he said.
“That’s really generous,” I started.
“Dude, you live in the building next to mine.”
“Really?”
“I have seen you often during my morning jog.”
I was shocked. How the hell had I missed that?
“So let me drop you off. If you want, I can even bring you in tomorrow, if you don’t mind meeting up at 6:30.”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But let me at least buy you lunch as a thank you.”
Surprisingly, he did. And as we chatted, awkwardly at first, over our salads and chicken, it slowly dawned on me that he was, in fact, hitting on me. Finally, he said something more direct and unmistakable.
“Jay, I have to confess, I think you’re cute. That’s why I wanted to take you home.”
“Don’t be silly, you’re a hot 20-something, what would you want from a washed up middle aged guy like me?”
“I like what I like.” Oh, that smile. Dimples, did I mention those? “I have a thing for blondes. We all have a type, right? But I am almost 36.”
He kept at it, all through lunch, talking about how he’d always crushed on older boys, then men. Asking me about likes and dislikes, confessing that he’d seem me walking to Starbucks frequently since he had moved in two months ago. Flattery works. I found myself drawn to his energy, and soon we were sharing opinions on movies and music and politics —we were remarkably in sync, disagreeing just enough to make interesting conversation.
I don’t recall ever being pursued so firmly, or so sweetly. It out me so off balance that I didn’t notice his hand on my arm until it had been there a while. Then he blushed, realizing it just as I did. “Sorry, I get carried away.”
“It’s fine,” I said,” but we should probably free up the table.”
I remained off balance as he drove me back to the shared lot between buildings, and somehow we kept talking and then we were in my apartment and I was pouring some iced tea so we could continue talking.
And then he kissed me.
Maybe I was a little starved for affection, but it was perfect. I found myself leaning in, and soon he was shrugging out of his shirt.
He was perfectly sculpted, of course. And then my self doubt kicked in and all I could see was the inevitable disappointment he would feel if he saw me shirtless. I pulled away, a bit.
“Dude, it’s really okay. I like you. A lot. Enough to follow you home and make out with you. Let me touch you...”
Intense brown eyes and dimples distracted me, and he gently unbuttoned my shirt, then lifted my tee off.
The shame of middle age, sedentary life, and genetic predisposition. Hairy, pale, flabby.
“Jay, it’s fine. I like you. Everything else is just packaging.”
Suddenly feeling bold, I managed a joke. “I like your packaging much better...”
“Tell you what,” he said. “Just relax a bit and let’s enjoy this. I am glad you like this, but it isn’t me. It’s just my body. Inside, I am still the scrawny teen who follows his older brother’s best friend everywhere.”
A week later, and we had become a couple.
I was still in shock, honestly. This buff, smart, sweet boy could not possibly be this into me. But against all odds, he was, and gradually I’d let down my guard.
Then one night he surprised me yet again.
“Jay, it’s obvious you are unhappy with your body,” he said. “What if we work on that together?”
“Really? You know my schedule...”
“Don’t use that as excuse. You made time for me, right? So let’s do this together. I didn’t always look like this, you know.”
“Yeah, that would have been unfair. I mean, you had to work at least a little for that kinda muscle.”
“I was scrawny for ages. But honestly, I think you could shed the weight quickly enough, and the rest is stuff I learned the hard way. Let’s do it — let’s give you a tune up.”
I wasn’t prepared for the cutest little Asian hunk ever to meet my gaze.
“Sorry, had to take care of something at the office,” I explained.
“No problem, Mr...Callahan,” he said, flashing a gorgeous smile.
“Please, call me Jay,” I said.
“Kim,” he said. “I know, how stereotypical, right?” He had a surprisingly deep voice, but just a hint of boyishness to it. Messy black hair, incredible cheekbones, even teeth, intense but friendly brown eyes.
“Nah, suits you.”
“Always thought it was a girly name.” He handed me the clipboard to sign. Wow, that was a hell of an arm.
“I don’t think anyone thinks ‘girly’ when they see you, Kim. Not with those arms!”
Goodness, he blushed. Delicious.
“Heh, thanks. Look it’s pretty slammed today, may be a while. You okay to wait?”
“Sure, I figured there would be a wait. Brought my iPad.”
“Cool, we will try to get you out as soon we can.”
Kim seemed to be the busiest guy in the place, so I was able to watch him unobtrusively for a few hours. His shirt was tight in all the right places, and those overalls rode a much firmer and full ass than I usually saw in Korean guys. He split his time between the front and the shop, never slowing down, always friendly but serious. Confident but sweet, charming the mostly female clientele, some of whom found reason to suddenly feign interest in the shop floor visible through the window. I wasn’t the only one drawn to the friendly, built hunk with the messy hair and lopsided grin. He always found time to make eye contact with me as he passed, which was nice, but I didn’t let myself be fooled.
He was maybe 30, and I was pushing 45. Sure, my blond hair laid nicely and I’d just got a good haircut, and I had been told I had a nice smile and nice eyes, but I was a desk jockey and it had taken its toll on my physique. It had been a while since I was target of flirting, and after a rather embarrassing moment last year at Pride, I had found it safer to assume I was misreading the signals. I closed my eyes, thinking how nice it would be to recapture even the body I’d had when I was in my 30s.
I woke to a pleasantly calloused hand gently rousing me.
“Jay? Mr Callahan?”
I opened my eyes to see hunky Kim leaning over me.
“Sorry, must have dozed off,”I said, sitting up embarrassed.
“It’s okay, sorry I had to wake you!” Again with those eyes and smile. “I have some bad news...”
Turns out there was a problem with my car, and if I hadn’t brought it in for the tune up, I might have had some serious problems. Unfortunately, the part wasn’t on hand and couldn’t be had until tomorrow morning.
“I guess I can get an uber or something.”
“I can drop you off. I am off in fifteen minutes,” he said.
“That’s really generous,” I started.
“Dude, you live in the building next to mine.”
“Really?”
“I have seen you often during my morning jog.”
I was shocked. How the hell had I missed that?
“So let me drop you off. If you want, I can even bring you in tomorrow, if you don’t mind meeting up at 6:30.”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But let me at least buy you lunch as a thank you.”
Surprisingly, he did. And as we chatted, awkwardly at first, over our salads and chicken, it slowly dawned on me that he was, in fact, hitting on me. Finally, he said something more direct and unmistakable.
“Jay, I have to confess, I think you’re cute. That’s why I wanted to take you home.”
“Don’t be silly, you’re a hot 20-something, what would you want from a washed up middle aged guy like me?”
“I like what I like.” Oh, that smile. Dimples, did I mention those? “I have a thing for blondes. We all have a type, right? But I am almost 36.”
He kept at it, all through lunch, talking about how he’d always crushed on older boys, then men. Asking me about likes and dislikes, confessing that he’d seem me walking to Starbucks frequently since he had moved in two months ago. Flattery works. I found myself drawn to his energy, and soon we were sharing opinions on movies and music and politics —we were remarkably in sync, disagreeing just enough to make interesting conversation.
I don’t recall ever being pursued so firmly, or so sweetly. It out me so off balance that I didn’t notice his hand on my arm until it had been there a while. Then he blushed, realizing it just as I did. “Sorry, I get carried away.”
“It’s fine,” I said,” but we should probably free up the table.”
I remained off balance as he drove me back to the shared lot between buildings, and somehow we kept talking and then we were in my apartment and I was pouring some iced tea so we could continue talking.
And then he kissed me.
Maybe I was a little starved for affection, but it was perfect. I found myself leaning in, and soon he was shrugging out of his shirt.
He was perfectly sculpted, of course. And then my self doubt kicked in and all I could see was the inevitable disappointment he would feel if he saw me shirtless. I pulled away, a bit.
“Dude, it’s really okay. I like you. A lot. Enough to follow you home and make out with you. Let me touch you...”
Intense brown eyes and dimples distracted me, and he gently unbuttoned my shirt, then lifted my tee off.
The shame of middle age, sedentary life, and genetic predisposition. Hairy, pale, flabby.
“Jay, it’s fine. I like you. Everything else is just packaging.”
Suddenly feeling bold, I managed a joke. “I like your packaging much better...”
“Tell you what,” he said. “Just relax a bit and let’s enjoy this. I am glad you like this, but it isn’t me. It’s just my body. Inside, I am still the scrawny teen who follows his older brother’s best friend everywhere.”
A week later, and we had become a couple.
I was still in shock, honestly. This buff, smart, sweet boy could not possibly be this into me. But against all odds, he was, and gradually I’d let down my guard.
Then one night he surprised me yet again.
“Jay, it’s obvious you are unhappy with your body,” he said. “What if we work on that together?”
“Really? You know my schedule...”
“Don’t use that as excuse. You made time for me, right? So let’s do this together. I didn’t always look like this, you know.”
“Yeah, that would have been unfair. I mean, you had to work at least a little for that kinda muscle.”
“I was scrawny for ages. But honestly, I think you could shed the weight quickly enough, and the rest is stuff I learned the hard way. Let’s do it — let’s give you a tune up.”