The old man frowned. “I don’t usually go into explanations about this, but I feel I owe you at least that.” He cleared his throat. “The apartment on the third floor was once a playroom of sorts.”

“A playroom?” This was getting bizarre. Gage didn’t know the old guy had kids.

“You see,” Mr. Bousum said, “My dear departed partner, Albert, and I made amateur films up there.” He leaned forward and whispered this next part, even though there was no one around to overhear him. “We made pornographic films, with leather and whips and chains. The entire place is filled with kink and sex toys, including a cage for prison fantasies. Albert had a penchant for things of that sort. He loved prison sex. It was almost a shame he was such a good, decent man who never committed a crime in his life.” Bousum smiled. “He would have loved a couple of years of hard time with burly, sweating convicts.”

“A cage?”

Bousum shrugged and looked down at his shoes. “My late partner was into bondage and discipline. He even went so far as to have the entire apartment soundproofed so no one outside could hear anything that was going on inside. None of the films we made ever took off or made money. But we did have a lot of fun making them, let me tell you.” He sent Gage a sideways glance and winked.

Gage closed his eyes and shook his head. “I thought there were priceless antiques up there. Why on Earth would you keep all that bondage and discipline stuff up there this long when you could have been renting the place out?”

The old man shrugged again. “Sentimental reasons, I guess,” he said. “I just can’t stand the thought of clearing it out. It will probably remain that way until the day I die. Then I don’t care who finds out about it.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Bousum,” Gage said. “I just don’t see how I can find another place and move so fast. I’ve been a good tenant. I’ve always paid my rent on time, sometimes two months in advance. I’ve never called once and complained. Whenever a pipe breaks I call the plumber myself. You can’t do this to me.”

Mr. Bousum shrugged. “I don’t have a choice. I’m sorry. You have been a good tenant. But I have to think of my family first. My sister has a chance to start a new life and she won’t be able to do that with my niece around. This apartment is perfect for my niece. She rarely goes out during the day. She’s never learned to mainstream well. And she’ll never have to worry about groceries with a grocery store right downstairs. It’s the perfect arrangement for everyone. I did give you written notice in an e-mail a month before the lease expired.”

“It’s the perfect arrangement for everyone except for me,” Gage said.

“I’m sorry, but your lease is up, and I have to think about my family. My sister has been through a rough time and I can’t turn my back on her.”

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Gage turned and pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. He started to pace up and down the first aisle, between the packaged goods and a refrigerated dairy case. There was no way he could find another apartment that fast. He didn’t have enough money for the first and last months’ rent. “Can we do this, Mr. Bousum? If I can’t find anything in the next two weeks, can I live temporarily in the apartment on the third floor?” He started to panic, knowing Bousum wasn’t going to change his mind about letting his niece take over his apartment.

Mr. Bousum lowered his eyelids and scowled. “I don’t know about that. I’m not sure it’s even legal to rent an apartment that way.”

“Look, Mr. Bousum, you have to give me a break here.” Gage turned his back on him and took a deep breath. He hated flirting with older men to get what he wanted, but this situation called for extreme measures. So with his back turned, he unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down. Then he tugged on his pants and lowered them to the middle of his slim hips. When he turned around, he sent Mr. Bousum an innocent, sultry smile and said, “Please, Mr. Bousum, can’t I stay there for a while? At least until I can find a decent place to live?” He stepped forward and his pants slid lower. He felt them slide down his hips and he did nothing to stop them. “I promise I won’t be there longer than six months.”

Mr. Bousum gaped at his drooping pants. Gage wasn’t wearing underwear. “Ah well, I suppose you can stay there temporarily.” He pressed his palm to his throat and took a quick breath.

Gage knew he had him where he wanted him. There were very few gay men Bousum’s age who cold resist a little show and tell. So, to close the deal without any questions, he took another step forward and let his pants fall to his knees. The old man’s head jerked and Gage stood still for a moment, pretending to be surprised. Then he reached down, grabbed the waistband of his pants, and said, “I’m so sorry. I can’t seem to keep these pants on, no matter how hard I try.” He pulled them up slowly, shoving his genitals back inside with care so Mr. Bousum wouldn’t miss anything. He didn’t fasten the button and he didn’t pull up the zipper.

Mr. Bousum rubbed his jaw and exhaled. He smiled and said, “I always find wearing a belt helps keep my pants up, young man.”

Gage returned the smile. He moved closer to Mr. Bousum and reached for his hand. He took it gently and said, “Are you going to charge me the full rent up on the third floor while I’m there temporarily?” He figured that as long as Mr. Bousum had dropped this bomb of an announcement in his lap without warning, he might as well get a discount on the soundproof sex room. This way he could save up for a better apartment while he lived there.

“I can’t let you live there for free,” Bousum said, squaring his shoulders, trying hard to pretend Gage’s sexual advances weren’t influencing him. “I’ll only charge you half the rent you were paying on the second floor. But I don’t want you there for long. I never intended to rent that apartment out to anyone.”

“I won’t be there long,” Gage said. “I’ll only be there long enough to find another place.”

Mr. Bousum took back his hand and turned to leave. “Just be sure you’re all cleared out by the first of the month so my niece can move in. I trust you and I’m not even going to come by and check it out. You can continue to send the rent check to the same address. We won’t need a lease this time. I’d rather go month to month. I keep a hidden key on a small hook behind the railing next to the door, and I don’t want anything touched up there. I keep the electric turned on all the time in case I want to stop by, so that’s included in the rent just like your old apartment. If you need me, you can e-mail me.”




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