“Sure am. Didn’t think I’d need a Realtor to sell the old girl. The right person’s gonna see what she is, and the only thing a Realtor’d do is try to sell it to the highest bidder. Name’s Howard King. This is the house I bought with my man, raised our family in, and the house he died in. I ain’t selling it because I lost him; I’m selling it because he wanted me to move to where our grandkids are in Colorado, and I’m going to honor him and our love and our life until the day I join him in the afterlife. You wanna come in and see her?”
“Yes, sir, I sure do.” There’s no other answer. This is a house with a legacy, a family home, and I want it. I don’t even know what’s inside, but whatever’s there, I want it.
Magnus slips his hand into mine as we follow Howard in through the gorgeous front door. The house is smaller than the other houses we’ve seen today. The front room is crowded with a lifetime of things. The walls have pictures of Howard’s family from early days with a young Howard and his young husband, to the first days with their first child, and years of birthdays, important events, and family photos. They raised six children together, and the story of their life exists on the faded wallpaper in picture frames.
Howard sits on one of the recliners; it’s his chair, and the one next to it remains empty with just the impression of the man who lived here with him. There’s a worn in couch with two throws on it, end tables, shelves, and knickknacks.
“Have a look around. I don’t suppose you’ll be interested in stealing from me,” he states, turning on his TV.
Magnus and I walk through this man’s home and his life. It will need some TLC, but the things that we see are just maintenance issues, like updating the carpet and tearing off the wallpaper. We could fix it up over the summer. The appliances need to be updated and the Formica countertops could stand to be replaced. It doesn’t need a remodel, as such, but the selling point for me is so ridiculous I’m afraid to even say it to Magnus.
“You really like this one,” Magnus says as we stand in the master bedroom that’s really not much bigger than our two dorm bedrooms combined. It’s two thirds the size of the last one we were in.
“This house is happy. Their life seeped into the walls, and it’s vibrant with their love. I want it because it’s so fucking happy here.” It’s so stupid, but there it is. “This is a home, and that’s what I want. I want to make a home with you.”
Magnus steps into my space and wraps his arms around my neck. “It needs new carpet, new paint, new appliances, new flooring, and new countertops. We’ll have to sandblast the outside and repaint, and we’ll need to do something about the porch. The best thing about the place is the stained glass and the garden, but neither of us has time to garden, so we’ll have to pay someone to maintain it until we get through school. Do you really want to go through all that work?”
“I think it’ll be worth it,” is all I can say to defend myself.
Magnus presses his lips to mine. “Alright then. Let’s go talk to Howard.”
I pull him in close and hug him tight. “Thank you,” I mutter into his hair.
Magnus kisses my shoulder. “I knew when I spotted the stained glass this was going to be your top pick, and when Howard introduced himself, it was inevitable. You wanted this place before you even stepped foot in it.”
“You are not psychic,” I remind him, even though sometimes he sounds like it.
He laughs. “No. I just know my Trent.”
He really does knowhisTrent.
Chapter 35
Magnus
Shellaby9:We can all tell you’re together.
19HandyMan99:Straight guys don’t fuck with other guys; Trent ain’t fooling no one.
S1nc3y0uw4s:Nah, there’s a bunch of guys who do gay for pay. You can tell they’re straight because they struggle with their erections. Some of them exclusively bottom because they can’t get it up.
19HandyMan99:Trent doesn’t seem to have a problem with getting it up.
S1nc3y0uw4s:I didn’t say all straight guys have trouble getting it up. Some people might be fine with sex with same gender and are otherwise hetero-romantic. We’re not erasing someone’s sexual identifiers just because it doesn’t seem right to us, that’s not how this community works. What if someone came along and said that just because you haven’t had sex with a woman doesn’t mean you’re not bi? Let Trent tell us what his sexuality is, ffs.
The interaction between two of our subscribers mostly ends there. Both talk to other commenters, but they don’t continue the interaction.
Beside me Trent shrugs. “We’re providing entertainment media. No one expects the actors of a comic book movie to be superheroes in real life, and we don’t have to give them our real life selves either. We’re going to follow the revised schedule you made; it’s good, and even though it’s less of a slow burn, it’s perfect for our goals.”
I lean in close, wanting to give him a kiss, but hesitate because?—
Because our relationship is new, and I don’t know if he likes casual kisses.
Trent closes the inches between us and gives me a lingering kiss, touching his lips to mine with a slow slide that brings us into alignment for a sweet exchange of warmth and breath. I savor the moment, pulling back at what feels like the appropriate time.
“I would be pretty upset if we waited until September for me to kiss you,” I confess with a chuckle.
“I’d never let that happen,” he assures me. “Why did you hesitate to kiss me?”
