Stranger Danger (Joelay)

Crash. The coffee mug that had been in Ray’s hands 2.5 seconds earlier was now in shards on the ground, the coffee itself seeping into his tile floor. Ray’s mouth was wide open, but not from the shock of his morning brew falling to the ground.

There was a man on his couch. A man he didn’t know.

Apparently, the sound of Ray’s cup shattering was enough to awaken the man, because he sat up sleepily and began wiping at his eyes with the backs of his hands, stretching into a soft yawn. He was tall, legs nearly long enough to cover the entire couch, and from the look of the man’s face, he was rather handsome. His hair was tousled to the point where it seemed to be defying gravity, but Ray could imagine that that was probably due whatever had happened last night for the man to sneak into his house.

The man’s eyes opened, and when he saw Ray, he merely asked, “Are you one of Burnie’s friends too?”

Ray’s hand went to his mouth. This man was fucking crazy.

Blinking and rubbing at his eyes again, the man surveyed the room as his brow furrowed with worry. Obviously, whatever he was looking for wasn’t there. He chewed his lip anxiously and asked, “Who are you?”

Snapping out of his shocked state, Ray retorted, “You’re the one in my house. Who’re you?” Ray felt the urge to run to the kitchen and grab a knife or something else that could be used as a weapon in case the man wasn’t as harmless as he seemed, but Ray forced himself to hear the man out.

The man groaned as his face fell into his hands. “Great. Fucking wonderful. I crawled into the neighbor’s house instead.” Noting the blank expression on Ray’s face, he explained, “So, I have a friend named Burnie. He’s your neighbor. And, well, last night me and a couple of my friends got drunk and I somehow ended up around here and got into your house thinking that it was Burnie’s. Why do you leave your doors unlocked?”

“They aren’t unlocked.” Ray still felt a bit suspicious, but what the man was saying was making a lot more sense than the five hundred different scenarios that Ray’s mind was creating.

“Well,” the man said, “that explains why my shoulder hurts. You should probably start locking your windows too.” As he spoke, his arm reached back to rub the opposite shoulder tenderly.

Ray asked again, “Who are you?”

Sighing with resign, the man mumbled, “Joel. Joel Heyman.” After speaking, Joel hissed, clutching at his head as he leaned forward into his knees. He peered up at Ray, hands still buried in his hair, and asked, “Do you have anything for hangovers, by any chance?”

                “Uh… Sorry, no. I don’t drink.” The entire situation unfolding around Ray was unbelievably insane, to the point where he was tempted to pinch himself to make certain that he wasn’t dreaming. However, the coffee splashed over his floor was real enough to make his feet sticky and he could feel his palms sweating from how nervous he had been earlier. Still, he found himself wanting to help Joel, no matter how strange things were. This had to be the first time in years that something so exciting had happened to him.

                Joel raised an eyebrow. “Nowadays, it’s a rarity to find a person of your age who doesn’t drink. Is there a specific reason?” As he spoke, his fingers unthreaded from his hair and met his knees. For some reason, Ray couldn’t stop noticing the way Joel’s eyes never strayed from Ray’s.

                Well, there was a long version and a short version to answer Joel’s question. “I worked in a bar when I was younger,” Ray explained slowly, “and didn’t like the way people acted.” In truth, the bar had been his father’s and he hadn’t had much of a choice as to whether he worked at the bar or not. If he had, there would have never been a time that he entered within a fifteen-foot radius of a bar. He didn’t like alcohol and how it shook over people’s senses to muddle them into blabbing and hitting and screaming. He didn’t like how alcohol revealed the animals that humans were trying to escape.

                Nodding, Joel said, “You’re fucking smart. You don’t end up with hangovers and headaches.” The “like me” was implied. Joel stood from the couch and walked to Ray. It was now that Ray could confirm that, yes, Joel was tall. He towered a good three inches or so above Ray. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re rather attractive.”

                Ray’s cheeks lit up like red Christmas lights as Joel walked past Ray, going to the front door. “Where are you going?” Ray asked, still blushing as he turned over Joel’s words in his head. No… If they were going to trade compliments, Joel was definitely the more handsome of the two.

                “I assumed that you would want me to leave, since I kind of barged into your house in the middle of the night for an impromptu sleepover. And then I called you cute.” His eyes met the shattered remains of Ray’s mug. “Uh, sorry about the cup.”

                Smiling embarrassedly, Ray replied, “Don’t worry about it. And… You’re pretty hot yourself.”

                Joel cocked his head to the side and asked, “Do you have a phone?”

                “Yeah…”

                “Well,” Joel said as his fingers curled around the doorknob, “when you want to, you know, go out on a date or whatever, ask Burnie for my number. He might laugh for a few minutes, but you’ll have no trouble finding me.” Joel was already opening the door, about to leave, the adventure that Ray had found on the couch this morning already ending.

                Ray strode over to Joel and put a hand on his shoulder. As Joel turned to him, Ray whispered, “Something to think about while you’re home,” and pressed his lips to Joel’s cheek, the smooth skin and slight stubble of his jawline rolling against his lips. There was a second when Ray could feel the heat of Joel rush through his mouth, soft and brisk and delicious like something he had never experienced, but he knew that now wasn’t the time to lose himself to a man he had known for ten minutes.

                He pulled away to find Joel’s eyes wide open, lips parted in shock. There was even a faint redness dusting his cheeks that soon vanished.

                “When you want to go on a date or whatever,” Ray said, pushing Joel out the door, “ask Burnie for my number, even if he laughs a little.”