Greg, Chapter 1


Greg
***This story is dedicated to my Flickr friend gregcrush, please visit his page***

“I told him the file is on the bottom shelf. I have it right here.”
I snapped out of it. For maybe only a few seconds I had been staring at my new co-worker Greg. His khaki chinos were tested to the limit as I saw him walk to a file cabinet directly in my eye sight from where I was sitting at my desk and bend over at the waist. It felt like time had slowed down. I stared. My mouth may have dropped open.

My co-worker and work friend Elsie had showed up next to my desk, holding a file. I was brought back to reality. I felt guilty for having been caught staring, but I was relieved it was just her and not my supervisor or anything. Also, she had clearly set this up to take advantage and get a good look at Greg’s ass herself. Part of me felt this was unacceptable behavior in the workplace. Part of me loved it.

Greg had walked into the office at Ronald Adams Financial Advisors in Oakland, California and been introduced to the other advisors only past Monday. He had been wearing a crisp white shirt and dark blue slacks. His blue eyes and cute smile were the first thing I had noticed about him. His hair was short and wavey, a light brown color. One could tell he worked out from his wide shoulders, flat stomach and muscular arms. I would have estimated him in his mid to late twenties.
“Hi. I’m Greg McMurray”, he’d said with his disarming smile.
Something about him seemed innocent, maybe even naive.

It had been later in the week when Greg had walked past my desk a few times that I had noticed his ass. And there was that time I had seen him from the back as I walked into the coffee pantry. I wasn’t the only one, as the two female co-workers and me as the only gay guy had even discussed it among ourselves. Greg’s ass had a shelf-like quality we’d said, especially when seen from the side. His perfectly round glutes were beautifully showcased in a variety of pants throughout the week. It had only taken till his first Friday for Elsie to take advantage of Greg’s naiveté, now that he showed up in the khaki slacks, which had highlighted his curves the most all week.

Buzz around the office soon reached me that Greg was single, but straight. Even after this news, I would usually sweat and blush a little whenever he spoke to me. In the office I was the only other guy around his age, and although I was out to the entire office, my sexuality hadn’t come up yet in my few talks to Greg. His attractiveness made me nervous whenever we spoke. This was very likely the reason I was still single myself.

After a few more seconds of admiration, Elsie walked up to Greg and apologized. She claimed that she had made a mistake and had found the file on her desk. He smiled and said, “No sweat”, let her give him the file and walked off. Elsie winked at me before she walked away.

Later that morning I had just gotten myself a coffee and a donut and I was about to walk back to my desk when Greg walked up to me in the pantry.
“Oh hey Ethan!”
“Hi!”
“Can I ask you something about that client you have this afternoon?”
“Sure!”
I could already feel my face getting red. I watched him pour himself a coffee and tried to look casual, leaning back against the counter and taking a bite from my donut.
“Retirement planning, right?”
“Hmm-hmm”, I said with my mouth full, as I quickly felt my eyes scan down his body as he turned to the fridge to put a few drips of low-fat milk in his coffee. It was like it was an automated bodily response to his presence to check him out, I couldn’t stop myself.
“And the woman has Alzheimer’s in her family. How does that affect your advice?”

I remembered telling some people about this client over lunch earlier in the week. Her name is Denise Stephens, and I told co-workers how she could possibly be the perfect client. Already over the phone she had done such a good job about being honest about every detail of her life and what exactly she was worried about. And that is when I knew I would be able to give her good advice.

He turned back to me and smiled. I never noticed his dimples up till now. I realized there was no sweat forming on my forehead this time. This was the first time Greg had asked me a work-related question. The other times he had been interested in who I was and what I did in my free time. I walked him back to his desk and explained how we give advice to people who are perfectly healthy now, but have a higher than average possibility of getting a disease, like Alzheimer’s. I showed him on his computer where he could find how different banks deal with this when it comes to giving people a loan. He seemed very thankful.

I told him it was no problem and he could ask me questions at any time. I finally took another bite of my donut and was about to turn and walk back to my desk when I heard Greg pipe up.
“Hey”, he said.
I turned back to face him.
“Do you wanna go to a bar after work? I’m new in town and… well… we’re the only young guys in the office.”
I felt something jump in my chest as if Greg had just asked me out in a romantic way. Now I could feel the sweat starting in after all.
“Absolutely, that sounds fun”, I replied enthusiastically with my mouth full.

I quickly e-mailed Elsie about my sudden Friday night plans. She made me promise to text her all the details afterwards and not to make her wait until Monday.

Greg and I left the office together. In the elevator he said, “Just take me to your favorite bar. I haven’t been anywhere yet.”
My favorite bar was The Port Bar, a gay bar on Broadway. I was already sweating in this elevator, I knew I would be a mess in there.
“You walk to the office, right?”
I remember hearing the company would arrange an apartment for him after he had been chosen for the job.
“Yeah, they stuck me in this tiny apartment on Lee Street, it’s less than 10 minutes to walk.”
“So are you OK if I drive you to the bar?”
“No, perfect. If you drop me back off as well?”
“Sure!”
“That means I’ll get to drink!”
Greg’s smile was so infectious. As I smiled back I felt the trail of sweat across my back.

We stepped outside. There was a slight wind. It was about 65 degrees (18 Celsius). The cold air really made me aware of all the sweat stains I had. I pointed my car out to Greg as I unlocked it and got in.
“Sweet car!”, he said as I drove off onto Grand Avenue.
“Thanks!”
“I need to buy a new car myself, would really help with exploring this new city. But it’s hard man, so many options!”
I was trying to focus on the road and on the conversation, but I was distracted by Greg’s thick thigh right next to me.
“My brother-in-law sells cars, he hooked me up”, I said. “I could ask him for some advice.”
“Oh, that would be great!”

We passed a gym called The Working Body.
“I just got a membership at that gym, I quite like it. It’s good to go right after work, you know?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Where do you go to the gym? Do you have one in your building?”
“I actually don’t go to the gym at all.”
“You don’t? You look ripped as hell!”
I blushed. I think we both knew I wasn’t half as ripped as him.
“I actually do some martial arts. Wrestling mostly. Learning to box.”
“So, you go to a dojo?”
“Something like that.”
“Cool!”

This was a blatant lie. I was actually part of a gay wrestling club, where the wrestling more often than not turned erotic. It was a place where guys with a wrestling fetish got together, fought each other and usually had sex during or after the match. However, saying I did some martial arts is what kept most people from asking anymore questions. Especially in the office I had learned this to be a convenient tactic.

“I should get into some of that as well”, Greg said after a short pause.
“I’m strong, you know, from all these years in the gym. But my self-defense is so weak. Maybe you could teach me some things some time?”
“Uhmm. Sure. I guess. I don’t see why not.”
I was counting on that never happening.

I took the left turn onto Harrison Street, giving us a view of Lake Merritt. Though very soon I had to take a right into 21st Street.
“So, where are we going?”, Greg then asked.
“It’s a place called The Port Bar.”
“OK. Never heard of it.”
As we crossed Franklin Street, I knew I had to tell him. I could feel the sweat drop down my temple.
“It’s a gay bar.”
“Oh. OK.”
“I’m gay. It’s my favorite bar in town.”
“Cool. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a gay bar before.”

And that was it. I turned left onto Broadway. We passed the Paramount Theatre. I found a parking spot by Tierra Mia Coffeeshop. We got out and walked back to The Port Bar.
“Thanks so much for taking me here, man!”
“No problem!”
I saw the posters on the front. Mostly of men in stages of undress and a few of RuPaul. Greg looked at them and chuckled.

When we got in, Greg looked around like he had never seen a bar before. The Friday after-work crowd was starting to form, but we still managed to get spots by the bar. I ordered us two drinks.
“Cheers! Welcome to Ronald Adams and welcome to Oakland!”
“Thanks man.”
We talked about how he was enjoying the job and we gossiped about some co-workers. He said he was from the Bay Area originally, from San Jose, but when he was 18 he wanted to go to college somewhere far away from his family. He ended up at the University of Illinois.

My sweatiness got better and better as the evening progressed. It was fun to have a few drinks with Greg, he seemed like a great guy. It was easy to get distracted by his bicep muscles showing through his baby blue shirt, or the outline of his pecs on each side of his tie. It also wasn’t very hard to pick up that Greg was genuine and humble, something that went together with a naïve trait that I had noticed before. Greg in his office attire was definitely a hit with the rest of the clientele that evening, but it was clear that he had no idea. Guys were ordering at the bar and stood way too close to him. Greg would say the place was really starting to get packed. Someone even interrupted our conversation to introduce himself.
“Hey, I’ve never seen you here before. Are you new?”
“Yeah! It’s my first time here!”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Richard.”
“Greg. This is Ethan, he brought me here.”
Richard looked me over and said, “OK I’ll let you guys finish. Come find me next time you’re here.”
“I will! Thanks! Wow, the guys are really nice here.”

There were some guys in the bar that I knew from wrestling. They came over to say hi and introduced themselves to Greg.
“You should bring him to a wrestling night!”, they said. Especially Chris, who loves beating up a muscleboy, was making his eyebrows jump up and down in excitement.
“Aww yeah, that sounds awesome”, Greg said.
“ Guys, I’m not throwing him to the wolves without any prior training!”, I said, laughing.
Maybe taking Greg here wasn’t such a good idea.

After a few hours, Greg and I got hungry and we decided to head home.
“Yeah, we should go now that I can still drive responsibly”, I quipped.
Greg walked in front of me as we exited the bar. Pretty much everyone let their hand graze his big ass as we had to walk out sideways.

I drove Greg back to his place. I went back to where I came from. On Grand Avenue I took an earlier left to get to Lee Street.
“What number?”
“306, please.”
When he saw me squint at the numbers, he chuckled and just said, “Further. Past the tall one.”

I made it to his apartment building and stopped the car. Greg said how much fun he’d had.
“Next weekend you teach me some wrestling moves, all right?”
I just smiled and giggled.
“Sure!”
I thought about some of the moves I did with the guys and I found myself wishing to try them on Greg. I had an entire week of coming up with a way to tell him.

Greg got out of the car, wished me a good weekend and walked up to his building, when suddenly two teenage boys came running down the street and punched him in the face. I could tell Greg was instantly out on his feet. It seemed as if in slow motion that his limp body toppled over.

I immediately got out of the car and ran over, finding one boy taking Greg’s bag, and the other searching his pants for his phone and wallet. I was about as tall as Greg and certainly not as muscular, but I tried to appear as large and intimidating as I could as I shouted, “Hold it right there!”

The two boys looked up at me.
“Give me his bag.”
The boy closest to me handed over the bag. I turned to the other boy.
“His phone.”
The other boy handed me Greg’s phone.
“His wallet.”
“I… I don’t have it.”
“I saw you check his back pocket.”
“I did. It wasn’t there.”
“His wallet better be in the bag”, I said.
I checked and the wallet was indeed there.
“Please don’t call the police”, one boy said.
“Shut up, Billy!”, the other one barked.
“Run now and don’t ever show your faces here again.”
They both started running.

I walked over to Greg and saw his motionless body on the sidewalk. He must have been caught totally off-guard. He lay on his back, naturally spread eagle. His mouth open wide, his eyes rolled up. There was a small stain in his crotch that I didn’t notice there before. It also seemed like his bulge had grown a little bit, but that was probably a fold in his pants. As I looked at him, I realized why he wanted me to teach him some moves. His body was built to be admired, not to fight. A boy got him with one punch.

I gave his face a few slaps, but he was completely out of it. Although he was clearly breathing and had a pulse, he was not responsive. I shook his shoulder.
“Greg?”
“Hmm?”
“There you are.”
His eyes rolled down and very slowly focused on me.
“Wha… what happened?”
“Some boys tried to rob you. I got your stuff though.”
Greg blinked a few times and very slowly started to move. I helped him up. He was very unstable on his feet.
“Should I take you to a hospital?”
“No, no, I’m OK. Just give me some time.”

I walked him into the building. He pointed the way to his apartment. I found the key in his bag. I helped Greg get to the couch as he murmured a few inaudible things. It was indeed quite a small apartment. I walked to the kitchen and got Greg a glass of water. That seemed to do him good.

“Thanks man. Wow. That boy hit me in the chin real good.”
“Yeah you hit the ground like a bag of rocks.”
I felt the back of his head and found the bump.
“Ow.”
“You sure you’re OK? I mean, I’ve seen guys get knocked out quite a lot, but usually when they drop like that it’s quite serious. Then again, they don’t go down as easily as you did.”
Greg laughed a little.
“Fuck you, man.”
I laughed and squeezed his shoulder. I suddenly realized I was no longer nervous around him. It made sense. I no longer thought of him as a demi-god after I saw him being easily overpowered by a teenage boy.

“It’s true though”, he said. “I get knocked out really easily. In college, whenever I got in a fight, I was out like a light within seconds. The staff at the hospital in Chicago started to recognize me. They would laugh and poke fun at me. Usually there was nothing wrong, just an ice-pack and I was good to go. One time I lost a tooth. So now I know it’s nothing major when I do get knocked out. But yeah, it’s time to work on my self-defense skills.”
I smiled.
“You got it.”

I stayed at Greg’s a little longer and worked up some food for the two of us. He was soon feeling better and walked into his bedroom to change. He walked out in a white tanktop and grey sweats. He looked incredibly sexy as he walked into the kitchen to get an ice-pack. As we ate I checked out his muscular arms. All I could think about is putting him in wrestling holds.

When I was about to leave, he thanked me again for everything.
“Oh, and… please keep this to yourself in the office?”
“Sure”, I said as I smiled at him.
“Thanks.”

He winked as he closed the door. It was a wink that gave me a boner. I couldn’t wait until next weekend.




Comments