“I saw it in the window, and I couldn’t resist,” Jamie said, as he handed him the little gift wrapped in newspaper he’d purchased for his friend, Eric. “I know your birthday isn’t for a few days, but I can’t make it to the game this week since I have to go see my sister get married this weekend, and I wanted to get it to you before at least.”
Eric took it, turning it over in his hands, and trying to imagine what could account for the odd shape of the package, tapered at one end, and round at the other. He found the bit of tape holding the wrapping together, tore it off, and unrolled it until the contents rolled out into his hand, and he found himself looking down at an old smoking pipe, the bowl and stem carved on one side into the image of a roaring dragon. He grinned, “Dang, that’s really cool!”
“Right?” Jamie said, glad his friend liked it, “Not that you smoke of course, but it fits in your collection at least.”
Eric collected dragons–well, Eric collected lots of things really. Board games, collectible card games, figurines, action figures from his favorite shows–but his largest collection by far was his collection of dragon related things–most of it just odd and strange curios in the shape of a dragon, just like this pipe. It was kind of perfect, actually. “Where did you find it?”
“Some weird little shop downtown, called…House of Marvels or something? Had never seen it before, and honestly, it was a lot cheaper than I expected. It doesn’t have a signature though–my mom says that things like that that aren’t signed are usually made by a machine or something, so maybe it isn’t worth much. Still, it looks cool!”
Eric nodded, and then said goodbye to Jamie. They both had a bit too much homework to contend with, since their college midterms were right around the corner, so their usual afternoon of video games was just going to have to wait. Jamie headed down the stairs, said goodbye to Mr. Fields as he left, the old, retired widower that Eric rented from. Jamie was a bit jealous, actually–Mr. Fields let Jamie do pretty much anything he wanted in his house–he even let him host their weekly game nights on the weekend with their two other friends from college, and he didn’t complain a bit. He thought about asking Mr. Fields if he might have another room he could rent himself next year, but he’d wait and see.
Upstairs, Eric set the pipe with the rest of his collection on a shelf, but as he did, he caught an odd whiff of smoke. He leaned in closer and gave the bowl of the pipe another sniff, but he didn’t catch another smell–but it had smelled kind of good, though now that it was gone, he couldn’t quite described how it had smelled good, exactly. He went back to his desk and got back to the paper he was trying to write, but every time he got into a decent flow, that smell would catch his attention again, and he’d be back to smelling the pipe, and wondering where in the world it was coming from exactly. It was one of those moments, when he was holding the pipe, that Mr. Fields passed by his open door.
“Is that a pipe, young man?” he asked, “You know I don’t want any smoking in here, ever.”
“Of course Mr. Fields, it’s just decorative. I don’t even own any tobacco or anything. It’s just a gift Jamie got me, because it looks like a dragon.”
His landlord scowled at him, and then kept going towards his own room. Eric liked Mr. Fields, and he was generous–but he had a lot of rules, and he was a total homophobe. Eric was just lucky he’d figured that out before mistakenly coming out to him when he’d been looking at the apartment. He couldn’t have anyone in his room–hell, he couldn’t even have his door closed, or his landlord would knock and make sure nothing “disgusting” was happening between him and his hands. Still, the rent was cheap, and the room was large–and for whatever reason he didn’t object to Eric and his friends playing their games downstairs in the basement, so all in all, it was alright, he supposed.
Mr. Fields passed back by the other direction, coat and hat in hand. “Gonna run a few errands,” he said, and left through the garage, and Eric decided this was an opportunity to take a break from his paper and jack off–so he pulled up some of his favorite videos and started playing them. It was a bit funny, he supposed, that his landlord was exactly his type–big bellied, older, gruff, hairy–it was a bit of a perk in its own way, and he’d had to learn how to master his erections in front of his chubby daddy crush. Eric, on the other hand, was a twink–or he could be a twink, if that sort of thing interested him in the slightest. He didn’t really have time for other people, or relationships. He had his friends, and his collections, and his games, and that was more than enough to keep him occupied. He wasn’t a virgin by any means, but most of the sex he’d had was…uninteresting, mostly because he’d never been with a man he really found attractive, just other guys his age, and it had always been pretty disappointing.
The smell of smoke found its way to his nose again as he masturbated, but he didn’t really notice it this time–or it wasn’t noticeable enough for him to stop what he was doing and investigate it. It wasn’t a bad smell by any means–as far as smoke could smell, he supposed. It was a little sweet, and a little like roasting meat. He came into the cumrag he kept hidden next to the desk, and then closed everything up and got back to work on his paper. Mr. Fields was never gone long–usually just an hour or so, because he was quite a homebody. He was going to have to find somewhere else to live next year, he thought–the old man was nice, but he did want some privacy on occasion, and it would be nice if he would stop treating him like he was his son.
Bracken's Corner 