Not in the Architect's Plans
by Londonboy
“You are one crazy man!”
“Why?”
“You are actually thinking about overseeing the construction of your new home. Really? You’re not kidding?”
“You don’t think I can do it?”
“No, it’s not that, I know you can do it. I just think you’re going to be too emotionally involved to stay level-headed about things. Managing all those different people involved in building a place has to be time consuming and very hard. And you actually think you can do that and keep up with your demands at the firm?”
“Yes.”
“Like I said, you’re crazy.”
I was sipping martinis with my friend Jerry at the Friendship on Thursday evening. We had just returned from seeing David Sedaris at UCLA. Jerry hated this bar, but I loved the neighborhood feel of the place and the fact that it rarely got too crowded. We were sitting at the long wooden bar dressed to the nines while retro Whitney Houston played over the sound system. Our favorite bartender – Max – was pouring the drinks strong and he was shirtless. What more could we ask for.
“Listen, Marcus, I know you and this boils down to having control. You just want to be the person in charge of everything. I’m actually more worried about the workers. I think you’re going to drive them insane. I just want you to remember that I voted against it. When we’re sitting here six months from now and you’re crying in your drink over the fact that nothing is going right – remember this moment. And remember I reserve the right to tell you I told you so!”
“I can always count on you to be so kind, Jerry.”
“Yes, that’s why you keep me around.”
“Another round gentlemen?”
Max was standing in front of us – with his perfect skin, his buff body, and his “you know you want me” smile that would even make Rush Limbaugh turn gay for a night. Jerry and I answered in the affirmative and we sat there in silence as Max’s arms bulged beautifully while he went through the ritual of making a martini. I had no idea where I got the strength to remain seated and not leap over the bar and start sucking on the guy’s beefy chest. More than that, though, I was impressed that Jerry had not offered to do anything lewd to the man. Usually, after a martini or two Jerry would be bragging to Max about what a great cocksucker he was and how much he could rock Max’s world. I was always so impressed by how Max handled my friend. He’d just laugh it off and tell Jerry how flattered he was. That’s one of the reason’s I loved Max – he could easily handle two fifty-something old men that flirted with him shamelessly.
“You know I’d like to take that young man and …”
“Yes I know. Please don’t remind me of all the things that you could do to or for Max, Jerry. It’s really an image I’d like to keep from my mind.”
“Suit yourself, but someday I’m going to spend a night of wild sex with that young man and find much pleasure in telling you every detail.”
“I’ll be married to some stud and have two dogs before you ever get in the sack with Max.”
“Yeah, you’ll never get married.”
“My point exactly, Jerry, my point exactly.”
Max appeared in front of us and placed our drinks on the bar. I stared at his chin – hoping it might be a part of his body that wouldn’t turn me on. I was not that lucky. His jaw line seemed to be cut from stone and there was a slight Viggo Mortenson dimple that made my stomach flutter. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my body.
“This round’s on me guys.”
“You don’t have to do that Max.”
“Shut up, Marcus, let the boy offer us a gift if he wants to.”
“Thank you, Max. That’s really kind.”
“No problem – not for my two most loyal customers.”
I know it was a compliment, but his comment stung a little. It did seem that Jerry and I were here all the time. Really, all I did was work, sleep, and spend time at the Friendship. I so needed a life, but it didn’t seem to be in the cards. I think having my heart broken a few too many times in the past prevented me from being open to relationships now, but that was just one theory. I sometimes believed I just wasn’t good enough for anyone else – a second and even more frightening theory. The bottom line, however, was that I seemed destined to be alone.
“Marcus, let’s be serious. I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to lead the construction of your new place. Yes, you have the experience and the skills to do a great job, but you will definitely enjoy the entire process more if you have a buffer between all of the workers and yourself. Remember the last time you took on something this big? Pneumonia and a hospital visit that put you out of commission for a couple of months. Please don’t let that happen again. I don’t think I could go that long without a drinking partner ever again. Remember, dear Marcus, it is always about me.”
Even though it was drenched with sarcasm, I could see that Jerry was truly concerned for my welfare. He also had a very good point. I had promised myself that I would never allow work to put me in the hospital again. At that moment I decided I would definitely hire a contractor to lead the building of my new beach house. I had saved money diligently for all of my life and was now using a chunk of it to build a place in what you would call a Malibu adjacent neighborhood. This was too much of an investment to not have the right support. I turned to my friend and he could tell by my face that I was convinced.
“Jerry, for once I agree with you. I am not going back in the hospital because of work – ever. Thanks for the reminder. I’ll start searching for a contractor tomorrow.”
“No need, good sir. I took it upon myself to ask Gary for a reference. Here’s the information for the best contractor in the business. You can now thank me.”
“Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that you asked Gary Franks for a suggestion!”
Franks was one of the world’s leading architects and a childhood friend of Jerry. I had begged Jerry to introduce me to him for year, but to no avail. I looked at the sheet of paper he had passed to me. There was a phone number and the name, Justin Bradley. I was still surprised and touched that Jerry had done this for me. I turned and smiled at my friend.
“You deserve this house, Marcus. You work hard and you have saved for this all of your life. I want it to be done well and, more importantly, I want you alive so I can take advantage of the beach house myself.”
“It always comes back to you, doesn’t it, Jerry.”
“It’s about time you figured that out, Marcus.”
“Thank you. Seriously, this is such a gift. I really appreciate it.”
“Okay, enough of the . . . what do they call it these days – bro stuff! Let’s get back to being facetious with each other and the truly shallow middle-aged men we really are. Max, another round please, my pet!”
And with that our brief moment of intimacy was over. I knew better than to comment further on my friend’s kindness. I also knew that a third martini was going to give me a hangover the next day. I didn’t care, though. I had the number to Gary Frank’s favorite contractor. How lucky could a guy get? Suddenly, I was very excited about getting started on my new place. It was time to celebrate and another martini sounded fantastic.
******
“Yo, what’s up? You’ve got J. Bradley, what can I do for ya?”
The voice on the phone sounded young and almost punk-ish. I was momentarily caught off guard and contemplated hanging up. Could this truly be the voice of a serious contractor? I must have paused a little too long.
“Don, are you crank calling again? Dude, this isn’t funny. I’m working here.”
“No, I’m sorry. Um, this is Marcus Wright and I’m …”
“The guy that designed the Sharpe complex in Santa Monica? Man, that was some nice shit. You’re freaking talented.”
Again, I was surprised by the harshness of the guy, not to mention the fact that he knew who I was. His voice was certainly positive and pleasant, but the guy just didn’t seem to come across as a talented businessman. I was beginning to wish I hadn’t called. I’m not sure I could work with someone that referred to one of my buildings as “nice shit.”
“Yeah, Gary told me he had passed my number on to you. I’m glad he gave me a shout out for the job. So, I’ve taken a look at the lot you own and you’re going to have some fucking nice views. I can’t wait to see what you have planned for those three acres. I could meet later on today. I’ll be done with an afternoon appointment a little before five thirty. You want to meet at My Father’s Office on Montana?”
For the third time I was speechless. I was trying to get my mind around the fact that he had already looked at the lot I owned and that he assumed he had the job. I was also surprised by his choice of places to meet – a local beer joint in Santa Monica. Yes, it was a high-end place, but it was still a pub. I started searching for a way to back out of this seemingly done deal.
“Scuse me. Hey guys, do you really need four big men to carry that thing. Come on, give me a fuckin’ break. Sorry Marcus, I’m at one of my sites and the guys are slacking off. So I’ll see you for a few beers at five thirty. Don’t forget the plans. Later, man.”
The call ended immediately. I stood there with the receiver at my ear – not believing what had just happened.
******
A big cloud passed in front of the sun right at five thirty. It was very ominous. I was looking at the menu listing the numerous beers offered at My Father’s Office. It was a little intimidating. I was sitting at one of the small tables that lined either side of the long narrow one-room place. I had chosen the chair side of the table, opposite the long bench running along the wall that served as the sitting area for all of the tables. I figured this was the power position. At least, that’s what my management training had taught me. I was going to try to show Justin that I was in control of this situation. I wanted him to know that I was a fair, but stern boss. I had not been able to show my leadership abilities on the phone call, but choosing the chair side was going to correct all of that. I heard the noise from the street and realized the door had opened. I forced myself not to look up. I didn’t want to seem too eager. It dawned on me that I didn’t feel a rush of air from the outside and I thought it odd.
“How’s it hangin’ Justin?”
“Heavy and long down the right side, Zeke.”
“I can see that. As a matter of fact, everyone can see that.”
The bartender’s greeting and the booming response of my apparent appointment made my body freeze for a second. The contractor’s voice was powerful in person, something I hadn’t noticed on the phone. I heard hard footsteps coming across the wooden floor. When I turned to look up I immediately realized that it had not been a cloud passing in front of the sun earlier, it had been a giant man blocking all of the sunlight coming through the large glass door of the pub. That’s also why I hadn’t felt a breeze. Justin Bradley was what many gay men would call a bull – no, to be correct, they would say a fucking bull. He wasn’t some kind of chiseled bodybuilder and he wasn’t merely a thick football player. No, the man walking through the middle of the pub was so huge that he made the room look tiny. It was like the guy was the largest contestant in a strongman competition right outside and he had just wandered in. Arms as thick as small kegs, shoulders that looked as wide as a garage door, a chest that seemed to stick out far enough that you could drape it with a tablecloth and set out place settings for four, and a set of legs that were so dense that you knew they could stop a speeding train. And all of this magnificence was capped off by the obscene outline of a long substantial package that was indeed hard to miss. The man was dressed in tight sweat pants and a v-neck Calvin Klein white t-shirt. I could see heavy tufts of dark chest hair through the thinly stretched material. It was clear that Justin was a regular at the place. He must have known everyone in the joint since he walked directly over to my table. I was clearly the guy he was going to meet because it was obvious I was the only virgin Father’s Office patron.
“Fuckin’ great to meet you Marcus. I’m Justin Bradley.”
The behemoth held out his hand to me – and I was immediately frightened by the size of his giant paw. It looked wider than the tire on my Jaguar. I didn’t move. I was frozen by my immediate fear and awe of the man. My mouth was open wide and no part of my body was moving. I don’t even think I was breathing. Justin didn’t skip a beat. He pulled his hand back and then moved to the space across from me. He looked down at the small gap between the bench and the edge of our table and made a tisk-tisk sound with his tongue. He leaned over and grabbed the back of my chair with one hand. He slid my body and the piece of furniture away from the table with no effort at all. I was given the chance to get a quick whiff of his manly musk since his armpit was right above my head. I became dizzy immediately. Justin then grabbed the heavy looking metal table with his other hand and moved it toward me. He then slid his enormous frame onto the bench across from me. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that a woman on the other end of the bench – about ten fifteen feet away was lifted into the air because of the intense weight on this end. So much for me choosing the power seat. The giant leaned in toward me and I got a glance through the v-neck at the valley between his bulging pecs. I couldn’t control myself and I gasped out loud. I immediately became embarrassed and looked up at the guy.
“I’m . . . I’m . . . sorry . . . it’s just that . . .”
“Forget it man. I’m used to it. This kind of reaction doesn’t bother me at all. It’s even worse right now because I just came from the gym. It’s cool. As a matter of fact, it still makes me shoot a little wood every time.”
The big man winked at me. I was flabbergasted. I was staring at the largest human being I had ever been this close to and he was making jokes about his size. I felt like Jack and I had just climbed up the beanstalk, gazing at the giant for the first time. Justin was indeed a sandy brown-haired colossal surfer-like looking man. I still could not form coherent sentences. I was suddenly struck with the idea that Justin looked exactly like Thor from my childhood comic books. I hadn’t thought about that super hero for years. But, the beefy god in front of me was definitely Thor in the flesh. The bartender came over to our table with four huge mugs of beer and Justin broke into a smile that made my knees go weak. I was glad I was sitting down. Three mugs were placed in front of Justin and one in front of me. Justin reached down and grabbed one. I noticed, as he brought it up to his mouth, that his giant hand made the big glass look like an espresso cup. I also realized that Justin’s other hand dangled off my side of the table. His arms were so long that they draped across the entire top – and took up most of the available space. The guy downed the first beer in one quick swig and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“So let’s see the plans, man. I’m very excited to check out what you’ve designed.”
Justin reached over and grabbed the thick steel base of the table next to us and lifted it easily – moving it until it was next to ours. He was making room for me to open my computer and didn’t want to crowd the beers in front of us. I had my house already up on the screen. I turned the computer toward him and he reached out to adjust the top part. I noticed that his hand could have easily palmed my large Mac. He carefully used his enormous finger to forward the plans on the screen. I had a feeling he could have pierced through the computer with one strong thrust.
“Dayum, Marcus. That is one beautiful house. You are going to have to promise to design a place for me when we’re done with this one. I’ve got a great lot up in the Hollywood Hills and I haven’t done anything with it. This is one sweet place you’re going to build. ‘Scuse me for a sec.”
Justin reached up with both hands and latched on to his nipples, which were protruding through his t-shirt creating small teepees. He twisted the things hard and closed his eyes at the same time. I could also tell he was gritting his teeth. He moved his hands back and forth a few times before he pinched down even harder. The guy was breathing heavy and his biceps were bulging bigger as he squeezed. I was starting to get a little turned on. I felt like I was in some kind of bizarre porn film. He finally released his nips and dropped his hands to the table.
“Sorry man, my trainer worked me really hard today. He said I was basically bench-pressing what amounted to two Winnebagos. The pain in my tits is unbearable. I gotta work the over every now and then to make sure they don’t stiffen up too much. I basically need someone to put on some heavy army boots and do a hard Riverdance number on them. I’m sorry if that’s a little TMI, Marcus.”
“No, it’s fine . . . I mean it’s interesting . . . I mean, it’s okay.”
My body was quivering like a schoolgirl caught in the icy rain with not jacket. I was having trouble concentrating on anything he was saying. I simply continue to stare at his hard spiking nipples. I somehow finally forced myself to move my gaze away from Justin’s massive chest to the plans on the computer screen. Justin followed my lead and returned his focus to my designs.
“So, I think we can be done in about ten months. I’ll start on the place Thursday. I have a couple of other gigs right now, but yours is so well laid out that it should be a piece of cake. I also fucking love what you have planned. I have a few adjustments that I’ll share with you as we go, but I have everything to begin this week.”
“You know, Justin, I appreciate all of your encouragement and enthusiasm, but I’m not sure if this job is right for you. I mean we haven’t even discussed fees or anything. We don’t even have a contract. I’ve also got some ideas on the companies that the contractor should use and other plans for supplies. I know that Gary Franks recommended you, but maybe this job is too small for you. I think you might be used to other kinds of jobs and other kinds of clients.”
Justin reached out and grabbed his second beer. He downed the drink as fast as the first. He placed the mug on the table and then smiled at me. He didn’t say a word – he just looked at me. It was a little unnerving. I glanced at the table and then to the plans on the computer. The screen had gone to sleep so I reached over and hit a key to awaken it. I looked back at the man and he was still smiling at me. He reached into the pocket of his tight sweats and grabbed something.
“Listen, man, here’s my card. On the bottom you’ll see a website. Go visit it. You’ll see that I’ve got references from anyone who’s anyone in the construction business. And I’ve never done a contract. My handshake has been good enough for everyone else, so I know it will be good enough for you. Hell, even when I built the new Hotel de Beverly Hills I didn’t have a fucking contract. I’m the right man for your home, Marcus. I truly understand what you’re trying to build. You are a brilliant architect. I’ve loved everything you’ve ever designed. Give me your hand.”
I immediately put out my hand like I was a dog reacting to an order from its owner. My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open wide again when I saw his huge paw surround my small-looking hand. I suddenly felt like a two year old. I was instantly scared he was going to crush my bones into mush. He gripped me tightly, but not enough to hurt. We shook hands and I felt a powerful surge of something like electricity shoot through my body.
“Done deal, Marcus. I’ll see you at the site Thursday. I’m going to make you proud.”
Justin released my hand and stood up, pushing the table away – which shoved my chair and me even further back. He towered above like some kind of super huge daddy figure. He reached down and grabbed the third mug of beer. He downed it, as well, in one long swallow. As he placed the empty glass on the table he looked me directly in the eyes.
“Besides everything else, Marcus, I want this job because I think you’re cute as hell.”
The big man then reached out and patted my head, like I was some kind of small child. I didn’t know how to react. I couldn’t believe a guy would treat me that way in public. I just sat there staring into the huge empty space once he had moved away. As he got close to the door he called back without turning around.
“See you Thursday, Marcus. Thanks for the beers, Derek. My new employer will pay for them.”
And then he was gone. There immediately seemed to be so much new space in the room – as if someone had just removed a large piece of furniture. Not only did Justin’s body fill a large part of the area, but his personality filled it, as well. I continued to stare at the wall, wondering if I had simply imagined the insanely muscular contractor. Had Justin been a figment of my imagination? I looked down and saw three empty mugs on the table, while my glass was still more than half –filled. It hadn’t been a dream. Derek, the bartender was suddenly at my side to clear the empties.
“He really is the best.”
I glanced at the cute bartender – not quite sure of what he had just said. I noted he was what I would usually have called a ‘built guy’ – but he seemed incredibly small compared to the beast that had just left. It suddenly dawned on me that Derek had been privy to our entire conversation about my new home. He also seemed to know Justin really well. I blinked my eyes at him and said nothing.
“He’s the best – not to mention the biggest. I also think he likes you. He never lets anyone pay for his drinks.”
I was too lost to comprehend what Derek was saying. I remained in the wake of a Justin-induced tidal wave. I was trying to figure out how I had ended up with the big guy as my contractor when I had come to the meeting with the intention of saying no to his offer. I could still feel the intensity of his strong grip on my hand. It continued to pulse from his power. Could it be possible that there was still a man on earth that made deals with just his handshake? I was so confused. My cock was hard, my heart was beating fast, my brain was jumping around to many different thoughts and I felt more alive than ever before in my life. That was surely a good sign, right? I focused on Derek’s face and said the first thing that came to my mind.
“He’s just so big.”
Derek grabbed my shoulder and squeezed tightly. It was a move that seemed to say, “You’ve been bitten by the Justin bug.” He then took the three empty mugs and walked away. My cell phone began to ring and I unconsciously reached down to answer it.
“Hello?”
“I know I come on strong, but I’m very sincere. Shall we meet on Thursday?”
“Justin?”
“The one and only. I know I’m a little blunt, but I truly meant what I said about your place. It’s a great design. I’d love to help build it. I’m also hoping to be invited to the housewarming party. That’s really the main thing that makes me want to do it.”
This comment was followed by the now-familiar laugh. It was completely intoxicating. I lost control of any logical thought. I simply answered from on an instinctual basis. It was really a response to his size and his presence. I had no ability to react in any other way.
“I’ll see you Thursday.”
“Good boy, Marcus.”
I was filled with a feeling of satisfaction, as if I had just made my first grade teacher very happy. At the same time the phone call ended. Justin had hung up – as if he had not expected any other response. I immediately felt a myriad of emotions. I had made the giant man happy and that pleased me, but I had also said yes to something my brain warned me against. I was like a child waiting for an adult’s guidance. I smiled as I returned the phone to my pocket. I was still happier than I had ever been in my entire life and I wasn’t sure why. I simply let the moment sink in. I smiled to myself and began to drink the last of the dark strong beer in front of me.