Heavy Metal Blues Box Set

Heavy Metal Cowboy Blues I awoke out of a deep sleep to ear-splitting sound. “Oh, God. Make it stop!” I groaned and squeezed the sides of my head with both hands. I shared a two-story duplex with Damien Ridley, my tenant. He loved his metal and hard rock at a decibel level that made my ears bleed. Pushing aside my blanket, I got out of bed and stomped outside and down the stairs to bang on his door. “Hey!” I yelled. Of course, he didn’t hear me. I turned the doorknob and found it unlocked. I opened the door and stepped inside, only to see Damien standing with his long, muscular legs wide apart, head hanging back as he strummed air guitar strings, his biceps bulging as he practically humped the invisible axe. Don’t get me wrong. It was a sexy sight. Damien’s shoulder-length blond hair was damp and curled slightly against his neck where the veins bulged out. He’d probably just gotten home a few minutes ago from his job at the nearby gym. His eyes were closed, mouth slightly open as he played along with the screeching crescendo of whatever big-hair band polluted the air at that moment. Despite my reluctant fascination with his suggestive gyrations, I stalked over to his stereo system and hit the off button. Damien’s eyes popped open. “What the f**k, man?” he said. “The f**k is that it’s eleven o’clock on a Monday night, and I really need to get some sleep. What the hell happened to the damn headphones? Didn’t we have an agreement about that?” “Oh, right!” He slapped his forehead. “Sorry, bro. I just…” Damien paused for a second and looked at me from head to toe, then back up again. Too late, I realized I was only wearing my canary yellow boxer briefs. The snug ones. Great. At least I wasn’t sporting wood, though it was a near thing. Clearing his throat, Damien continued, “Yeah, uh, I got home and I just had to hear some Poison. Totally spaced the headphones, man. My bad.” He looked me over again and licked his lips, grinning a little. “Though, if you go to bed like that every night, I might be tempted to forget again just so I can see you in your sexy underwear.” “In your dreams, metal boy. You may be hot stuff, but it’s never gonna happen.” I rolled my eyes and considered covering my crotch. For all the good that would do. Better to just man up. “Never say never, Les,” Damien drawled. We’d done this song and dance before, but I was usually fully clothed. “Look, just try to remember, okay?” “You forgive me, don’t you?” Damien wheedled, those translucent gray eyes melting my resolve, as usual. I sighed, scratching my beard shadow. To keep a smooth jaw line, I had to shave twice a day. Too much work. “Just put a Post-It note on the stereo or something. I get up at four ‘o’clock in the frickin’ morning, you know.” “Yeah, man. Again, sorry. Consider it done.” And there were the dimples, along with his pretty, even white teeth. He must get lots of new memberships at the gym when he brought those out. I was a goner and I needed to leave before my d**k started doing the two-step. “Good night.” “‘Night, Les,” he said. I gathered the tattered shreds of my dignity and moved my Tweety Bird-yellow clad ass out the door. I heard a chuckle behind me as I left. * * * * As I lay down in bed and fluffed my pillows, frustration at being wide awake gave way to resignation. I was in lust with my neighbor, that tall, fine hunk of a man that made me want to bay at the moon. I knew it. He probably knew it. Didn’t matter that we both swung for the same team. We were as different as horses and cows. He loved metal and all things rock. I was a fan of country music and little else. I mean, I grew up on a ranch in the Midwest. All my parents and I ever listened to was country music. We breathed it, lived it, and sang it all day long. Patsy Cline was like the Virgin Mary to us. They died a few years ago, and I had to sell the ranch to pay off old debts. The music was all I had left of them, along with the fun memories of growing up. I’d had the best time being a cowboy. I loved the land, the smells, and the hard work. I still missed it, though it wasn’t really that bad working as an assistant manager at the Ranch and Feed over on Myrtle. Being around the stuff in the store was a little like nostalgia for me. It kept the pain at bay. I used the money left over from the sale to buy this duplex and advertised for a tenant as a way to keep costs down. Damien was the fourth tenant I’d had in ten years, and the most reliable. Aside from his nails-on-a-chalkboard love of loud music, he was pleasant, courteous, and paid the rent on time. He was also sexy as all get out. And younger than me by nine years. What would a hot, young, twenty-five-year-old want with a washed up, retired cowboy, anyway? I should be put out to pasture. Finally, after tossing and turning a bit, I fell asleep until the alarm went off too damn early. Bleary-eyed, I showered and got dressed in fifteen minutes then headed to the kitchen to make some instant coffee. I left the house at five o’clock and drove Rusty, my beat up, old Ford truck, to the store. * * * * “Forgot to shave again, I see. Late night?” Wade, one of the other assistant managers asked me while we stocked the equine section. I worked on fly spray and repellant while he did the liniment. “Yeah. Damien forgot the headphones again,” I said in a huff. Wade chuckled. “As much as you complain, I know you have the hots for the man. Maybe if you f**k him, he’ll show some restraint.” “Are you kidding me? That might make it worse, because then he’ll deliberately be a pain in the ass just so I come knocking on his door. Not going there.” “Like that’s a bad thing. I think you should. It’s not healthy to live like you do. You need more in your life. Companionship. Maybe expand your music horizons.” “This again. Look, I’m on the downside of thirty. My chances at companionship are long gone. And I know you.” I stopped stocking shelves for a minute and gave him a knowing stare. “Just ‘cause you’re like a pig in slop with your new boyfriend don’t mean everyone else has to be hitched up to a wagon, too. Leave it alone, Wade.” “Methinks he doth protest too much. I might just go over to see Damien myself and get him to loosen you up. You’re too uptight, man. You need some release, and not just the solo kind.” He demonstrated the universal motion for jacking off with his fist. “Please. You just want to meet the guy so you can have fantasy material for s*x with Curtis. That’s what porn is for, remember?” “Whatever.” Wade went back to stocking the shelves, and I went back to earning my keep. * * * * Several days later, on a Sunday morning, someone knocked on my door. It could only be Damien. I opened the door. “Hey.” He looked really good in cargo shorts that exposed his fit calves, and a muscle shirt that, well, you get the idea. “Got the rent?” “Yeah.” He handed me a sealed envelope. “Thanks,” I said as I took it. Usually Damien would turn around and leave with a wave, but this time, he just stood there. “Anything else?” I asked. Damien cleared his throat. “Can I come in? I want to talk to you about something.” I stared at him for a second. He looked so serious. I stepped aside so he could enter. I had a George Strait song playing on low volume in the living room. Damien walked past me and took a seat on the couch. I sat in a chair to his left. “Okay, what’s up?” I said. “I was wondering if it would be okay for me to have a roommate for a while. A guy I know needs a place to stay right now while he gets back on his feet. He’s a good friend and I wouldn’t feel right having him roam the streets when I have a spare bedroom. If you need more rent, I can do that. It’s just, I’d really like to help him out.” I sat there and studied Damien for a minute. Huh. Never would have expected that from him. I guess I should stop judging people. “Les?” I snapped out of my thoughts. “Sorry. Yeah, that’s fine, man. No problem. And, no, I won’t charge you more rent for him staying with you. Same rules apply to him as you, of course.” “You’re still giving me this weird look,” he said. “I don’t mean to. It’s just, I’m seeing another side of you that surprised me, and that’s probably because I made a judgment about how you do things based on my own preconceptions.” “I get that about you,” Damien said. “It’s okay. I like to surprise people, shake ‘em up a bit. You could use a little shaking up, Les. My door’s always open, you know.” He smiled and winked at me. “Stop, now.” I got up and he did the same. “Go on, git before I change my mind.” “Thanks for this, Les. Really. Kenny needs this, badly. Maybe you’ll let me show you how much I appreciate this, someday.” He blew me a kiss as he showed himself out, the little devil.