Empty Homes

-Aiden-

Locking his door, Aiden stood in the half-gloom of his tiny apartment. Even with all the lights off, the cheap curtains let in plenty of outside illumination.

Gillian had been extra kind and nice to him on the short ride home, making polite comments about the neighborhood and pointedly not talking about the incident at the bar. He had appreciated it, and appreciated the way she gently offered to walk him to the door but didn’t press when he demurred. She had parked in front of the old building, given a cheery goodbye, and then watched until he had entered the locked lobby.

His eyes stung with tears, but Aiden closed them tightly and stood, hands clenched, for a long moment until he got himself under control again. ‘It was ok. It was ok. It was ok.’

Feeling, if not better, at least less likely to collapse in a trembling panic-ridden heap ("hey shrimp, where ya goin’ huh?"), Aiden put his things down and turned on the light. The small, quiet room, with its lack of furniture and tidy things, reassured him. This space was his, and he was ok.

In the washroom, Aiden started the shower. This old building seemed to have unlimited hot water, but it did take a while before the water that came out of the tap was anything except ice cold. Stripping off his baggy, rather worn sweater, he studied it closely. It was definitely wet with beer and whatever other sticky fluids had been spilled on the bar floor, but it wasn’t ripped at least. Aiden could ill afford to lose an article of clothing for work, even if it was old and plain.

Diligently, the young man damped the sweater in tap water and rubbed out most of the beer. He would hand wash his outfit later but putting it aside he removed the rest of his clothing in the tiny washroom. He saw his slender, pale form in the mirror, and resisted the urge to look away. Instead, he stared back at the sad boy. His shaggy - almost girlish - light brown hair meant to deflect attention. His pale complexion, prone to the occasional spot no matter how diligent he was with the cheapest skin care products he could buy.

One of the boys magazines he read made the point that frowning boys developed premature aging lines on their faces, so he took a breath and relaxed. Focus on the positive, maybe? Well, his green eyes are probably his best feature, he feels. In the deep, secret part of his heart that daydreams of a strong, handsome woman to swoop in and inexplicably court him, it’s his eyes that he imagines she notices.

His pale body was, as always, a disappointment. Women, or at least most of the rough and tumble farm girls he went to school with, liked very masculine men. Men with stubble and hairy chests - so risqué if more than a few strands of body hair show above their fashionably loose shirts - or men with the muscular frames that look so good on a sexy billboard. The girls Aiden knew thrilled in bedding the taller or broader boys, teasing them by showing that, while their bulging muscles might make them stronger than the average guy, even a decently fit woman could easily best one in an arm wrestle. Or wrestle one onto a bed.

Blushing Aiden sighed and told himself that some women do like less masculine looking guys. Boys like him who honestly look almost girlish with his thin arms and flat stomach, albeit without the estrogen strength that made muscle mass on men largely unimportant when compared to women. Still, plenty of women prefer a more androgynous look to their boys, and with his long eye lashes and smooth, almost hairless body Aiden knows that some women like the way he looks. It’s just a matter of finding one who won’t try to grope him before she even asks his name. Or the kind of scary ones who love how he looks younger than his age. A woman who won’t try to get him drunk and use him in the backseat of her car before dumping him off like a prostitute.

The bathroom was getting steamy as Aiden frowned (stop that!) at his reflection, so with a start he pulled off the rest of his clothes. As he stepped into the shower, luxuriating at the heat, he glanced down at his penis. One benefit of being so slender was that, if nothing else, it made his boyhood look big. Of course, he would never wear the kinds of tight pants or slutty shorts that called attention to it, but the young man couldn’t help but feel a tiny flicker of strange pride at the thought that so many women, the ones who didn’t give him a second look in his baggy clothes, would be surprised at one part of him!

His not-so-little fella twitched and stirred at the thoughts, or at the feeling of relaxation the warm water was bringing him. Aiden was a good boy and didn’t like to play with himself, although he believed that masturbation wasn’t really the horrible sin that the older generations said it was. Schoolgirls could joke around openly about jilling off and teasing boys about what they liked to imagine boys did and wouldn’t talk about. Still… now and then Aiden would take himself in hand and relieve his baser urges. He may not believe the pastor at his church, her long hair reaching past her waist as she railed at the loose morals of ‘modern’ men, when she shouted at the heavens that every boy who pleasured himself was insulting Goddess Herself… but some of the sermons must have stuck because he tried to not do it too often.

‘Can’t be wasting my delicate, masculine essences,’ he thought to himself with a smirk, ‘can’t have my future wife unhappy with me on our honeymoon!’ For a moment, he laughed at himself, forgetting the stress and shame of the night. But the feeling didn’t last long, because there was Erin, so angry, after she had saved him.

Washing his hair, Aiden resolved to apologize to her. He clearly messed something up, put himself in danger, and she had to get in a very bad fight to protect him. It was no surprise she had been angry, really.

Having decided that Erin was right to be cross with him, Aiden felt more of the lingering unhappiness fading away. It was a habit he had developed since he was a child, something the kindly counselor at high school had gently called a “defense mechanism” to him one day. Aiden wasn’t sure if that was or was not true, but he did feel deep in his bones the unstated desire to have women like him. Heck, maybe he did suffer from not having a ‘strong female presence’ in his life.

A clang echoed while Aiden was rinsing the shampoo out of his hair. Looking up, he heard a vibrating metallic sound from the wall, but seemingly from above him. It went away after a few seconds, and while it wasn’t the first time he had heard the old pipes banging it had been louder than before.

As he finished rinsing off, Aiden debated telling the caretaker. Would it be weird if he did? Well, if he bumped into her he would. Probably not something worth calling her number over.

He was just reaching for the faucet handle when a loud knock startled him. Before he could even think to call out he heard what could only be the sound of the deadbolt opening and then the security chain on the door to his apartment rattling. What?!

“Hello? Aiden? Young man?” As he began to sputter a panicked reply, through the mostly closed bathroom door he could hear what sounded like a chain rattling, then the door swinging open as the caretaker entered his small suite.

“Aiden, are you in the shower? This is Kelly, the caretaker! There is a big problem with the pipes, I need to look as soon as possible! I’m coming in so don’t freak out ok? Ha ha!”

Almost falling in his haste, Aiden squeaked out “J-j-just a moment!” and turned off the water. Dripping, he jumped out of the tub and grabbed his only bath towel, wrapping it around his chest just above his nipples. Darn it, this cheap thing barely went down to his privates, but surely Ms. Brookings would wait for him to get dressed before-

“Sorry it’s an emergency!” The door opened and only the depth of Aiden’s shock kept him from shrieking in panic. The older woman had a hand in front of her eyes, but clearly peeked at the young man before turning her head slightly, “Oh good, you’re decent. Would hate to walk in on you in your birthday suit, but again it’s imperative I check these pipes now or they may burst and hurt you!”

Decent? He was half-naked! Aiden used his right hand to grip on to the towel tightly, **** to keep his chest as concealed as possible. He prayed to whatever saints looked after young men that the tip of his boyhood was not visible under the bottom! His heart thumping, he found his voice, “Oh, uh, just one second and I’ll get dressed then…” his voice trailed off when the building manager turned to look him in the eyes, frowning slightly.

“Can’t wait. You’re decent enough, I’ve seen a hundred young men in towels, it’s nothing to me. We need to fix this right now, or boiling water could fall on your while you shower! It wouldn’t be safe to let you stay in here, and I can’t bear the thought of you losing this apartment!”

Gasping, Aiden looked at the ceiling above the bathtub. There was a strange patch of discoloration there, perhaps there was a leak? Certainly, the huge boiler in this old building generated extremely hot water, probably hotter than would be considered technically safe in a modern building.

Looking back at the older woman, Aiden saw her staring blandly back at him. She was not openly leering at his body, clad only in a thin towel, but was patiently maintaining eye contact.

He knew this had been the only vacancy in the building when he had moved in, Ms. Brookings had told him as much. If the room was somehow unsafe, would he have to move? Where could he go?

Swallowing, the boy nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

-Erin-

In a nicely furnished condo a few miles away, Erin stormed into her washroom. With a thunderous frown, she looked at her ruined shirt, unbuttoning it and ripping it off with a wordless grunt.

Stupid. Selfish. Dangerous.

'What the fuck had that boy been doing?’

No sooner had the thought flashed through her mind then Erin winced. What the hell was had she been doing? Of course, the bitch who slapped Aiden’s ass like he was a piece of meat deserved what she got. But flying off the handle like that, she put the boy in danger. Thank goddess that Gillian had been there, Aiden might have been trampled!

As she looked down at her bruised and bloody knuckles, Erin started the tap to rinse them off. Her jaw hurt rather badly - the big Asian woman had a solid right hook on her and had tagged Erin once - and at some point she had been punched in the back hard enough to leave her ribs sore and aching. Someone had yanked on her hair too. Fucking hell.

The worst part, by far, had been seeing Aiden being slammed against the wall. Erin’s breath caught in her throat in helpless rage at the memory of the young man, his eyes wide, being bounced by the much stronger blonde woman. Like a cat toying with a mouse. The only thing worse to Erin than remembering how helpless and scared he looked was the knowledge that he had jumped into the fight to try to help her.

'Oh goddess, what would Mom say?' The thought made Erin snicker bitterly. Her mother had been a shit disturber and borderline gang kid in her youth. She would have told Erin she should have smashed a bottle over blondie’s head for grabbing at her boy like that.

…her boy?

No. This was stupid. Erin had lost her temper and made things worse, just like high school all over again. She was a fucking professional now, an accountant, not a teenage asshole with a chip on her shoulder looking for a scrap.

Did she do it to help Aiden, or did she do it for herself? She had felt... disrespected by the woman. As if her actions had been an insult to Erin’s womanhood as much as they been a horrible thing to do to a young man.

Erin undressed, deep in thought. As she removed the remnants of the makeup she had spent extra time on this morning (surely, just because she was going for drinks, right? No other reason of course!) a swirl of thoughts troubled her. Turning the water on, she stepped into the chic glass shower stall and under the fancy shower head that her ex had insisted on.

What had she said to Aiden? That he needed a woman to go with him to buy drinks? How was that attitude much less sexist than the mindset of the bitches who accosted him? Maybe she should apologize to him on Monday. Try to be a modern woman, at least. Tell him she was glad he was alright. Maybe even tell him that she saw that he had been very brave. Not terribly smart, but very brave. Heavens, he just got his skinny ass right back into that brawl, hadn’t he?

Her jaw was still throbbing, her nerves jangling from the adrenaline of the fight. Erin quickly hopped out of the shower, dripping water everywhere. Grabbing a pink dildo from the bathroom cabinet, Erin decided she’d feel a lot better after a good wank. She wasn’t going to think about Aiden, his pretty eyes and shaggy hair, while she fucked herself. But she wasn’t going to not think about him either. Whatever, he was just a cute guy she knew. Better than working her snatch while thinking about her fuckboy ex, Phillip.

Back in the shower, Erin felt the warm water running down her back. Using the dildo, she gave her clit some taps, then began rubbing it. Hmm, she should shave her bits. Not that any guys were going to be seeing it, but it was more and more common that women did some ‘ladyscaping’ too. Erin approved, mostly because she liked her boys well groomed (if not shaved bare) and it felt sexist to not hold herself to a similar silly beauty standard.

She realized she must have been more worked up by the fight than she had thought. She slid the toy into herself, enjoying the feeling of the first thrust into her tight hole.

Sure, she’d talk to the young man on Monday. Just to clear the air.