Date: Tue, 9 Oct 2007 04:12:48 -0600
From: Gavin 2357 <gavin2357@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Love Story, Part One

This story is a work of fiction.  All
characters are imaginary.

     It was an unusually warm day in San Francisco. A light breeze kissed
Kevin's stubbled cheek as he stepped out of the cab. The clear sky was
of such a deep blue that he had seen only while skiing in Colorado years
ago as a teenager. Now, as many years had passed, and the 32-year-old man
savored the crisp air of the city that was to be his home for the next
few years.
     Kevin had just been chosen by his boss in New York to head up a
second branch of a language school. Well, this was the address. Kevin
paid the driver and looked around. Maybe he should have gone to the hotel
first, but he was traveling light and understandably felt excited about
his recent promotion.
     Across the street stood a tall modern-looking green glass tower.
Kevin turned around and proceeded into his building--a very old, yet well
kept triangular building--triangular because Market Street ran diagonal
to the northern streets. One block south was four-story entertainment
complex with cinemas on the second and third floors and Kevin had this on
his list of things to do and see in San Francisco.
     In the lobby, four polished brass elevator doors belied a faint
smell of mildew. Light streamed in through a huge window above a carpeted
staircase set prominently at the rear of the building. A polished brass
handrail coursed up through its center. Kevin loved history and was
instantly intrigued by the classical architecture. He guessed to building
to be about a hundred years old.
     Alone in the elevator, he pressed 11, the top floor. No, this was
not the gleaming glass tower across the street, but it did have its
charm. Kevin was already beginning to feel at home. The lumbering doors
opened to a massive marbled hallway with a ceiling nearly as high as the
lobby's. The only windows that could be seen were through the
wood-framed glass doors of other suites, each with its own gold lettering
stating their service. Lots of jewelers. They looked like mom-and-pop
businesses. Names he had never heard of before. There was a law
office--no glass in that door. The accountant's office had no glass
either. Finally, here he was at 1125. The Gold lettering on the glass was
perfect and the door was unlocked.
     There was absolutely no way Kevin could have been prepared for what
met his gaze on the other side of that door. In a tiny waiting area stood
a young man with straight feathered black hair which stood up on the top
of his head, gave him the slightest parted bangs, and then casually
covered his ears and neck. What the young man was wearing was equally
stunning. A very tight tee shirt of some black, white and grey army
design fit his slender torso like a glove leaving nothing to Kevin's
imagination. Its short sleeves revealed long smooth sinuous evenly tanned
arms. The base of the tee shirt barely met the very low cut of the young
man's tight faded grey jeans. He was every bit as tall as Kevin's six
feet.
     Full lips and big bright brown eyes smiled at Kevin.
"You must be Kevin. I'm Ngoc. How was your trip?"
     If Ngoc picked up on Kevin's delayed response, he didn't let on.
"I'm Kevin," Kevin managed to get out in a final breath. "Uh ... yeah
... my trip was great." Kevin knew the younger man had to have noticed
something about his initial reaction. And yes, there it was, the knowing
smile that lasted just a little longer than called for, the intense look
in those deep brown eyes, firm handshake held for more than just a few
seconds, and, finally, the left hand placed on top of Kevin's. Ngoc did
not let go as they peered through each other's eyes. He returned Ngoc's
firm grip and savored his silky smooth Asian skin. Finally, Kevin managed
to say, "Are you a student?"
     Smiling and still holding on to Kevin's hand, Ngoc said, "No, I'm
your office boy. Just tell me what to do."
     The ideas that suddenly flooded Kevin's imagination overwhelmed
him, but all he said was, "How old are you ... Ngoc?"
     "Nineteen," Ngoc said without missing a beat. "Uh ... is there
anything you'd like me to wear?"
     `How about a speedo,' Kevin thought to himself. "No, you look
great," Kevin said a little too enthusiastically.
     Again ... that knowing grin. This time, Kevin returned the smile.
Holding Kevin's hand, Ngoc let Kevin through a door. "Come. Let me give
you a tour."

Part two will be coming soon.