Mistaken Identity

Michael spent the day wandering around the house, in its entirety. He had already washed the dishes and silverware of their morning meal and rifled through the cabinets and drawers to find their places. Studying the notes and clips on the steel doors of the refrigerator, he came across the note Nick had wrote with his number on it. Tiny, perfect handwriting and fluid numbers said alot about the other man, much like the house he was in. The downstairs was self-explanatory so he started with the upstairs.

The house was annoyingly quiet, except for the occasional sound of the icemaker dropping ice into the tray. Michael had never heard anything so quiet as this house. The small, 10 inch television that sat on the stone, faux fireplace mantle, next to the half-bath, would have to do for noise since he wasn't about to even guess what Nick had for music to listen to. Making a roundabout way to the stairs, he clicked on the small, gray television set and turned the volume up. Not worrying about the channel being mostly news, he was just glad there was another voice to keep him company. Now, he continued upstairs to look around.

He migrated toward the bedroom and opened the dresser drawers one by one, looking through Nick's clothing. "Neat freak." A mumble escaped him as he opened the underwear drawer and found folded briefs on one side and rolled boxers on the other. The chill of the air conditioner kicking on sent a shudder through his body as he had still been wearing his T-shirt and boxers Nick had given him.

The other drawers were that similar. The vaious coloured polo T-shirts were folded neatly in the drawer above the rolled white socks, and the "weekend" jeans were in the very bottom drawer, folded neatly into the small square shape. The top left drawer was where he lingered the longest; the drawer where Nick had retrieved the two condoms. Beyond the condoms, he found KY jelly, silk ribbons and various sexual toys. In the far back of the drawer was where he found something that stopped him in his tracks.

"Pictures," he gasped, "of.... me?" Michael was thoroughly confused. He sat down on the edge of the bed and examined every single picture in the small stack he had found. The third picture in the stack of 15 showed a younger man with longer hair and naked from the waist up (as where the picture ends) sitting along side someone whose shoulder was the only visible part in the picture. The younger man was smiling widely and looking off to his right at someone or something out of frame. Michael looked up and stared at himself in the mirror about the dresser, then back to the picture. "This can't be me."

He stood and went over to the mirror to place the picture side by side with himself and try to mimic the expression in the picture. The face in the mirror was a little older but he was definately the man in the picture. Michael shook his head in disbelief and started checking the backs of every photo for a name or a year. The back of one that had he and another man in big straw hats and overalls, sitting on a parade float, had the name "Michael" and the event name in big, bold letters underneath "PRIDE." The date on another one was set back a total of seven years but Michael had trouble remembering the day before yesterday, let alone seven years ago.

Leaving the stack on the bed, Michael wander into the bathroom. The spa/bathtub sat off to one corner and looked big enough for three people to sit comfortably in. Black porcelain with low jets sat on a raised step next to a tall, slim shower with a glazed glass door. While the washing appliances took up the left side of the room, the toilet and small linen closet took up the right. On the back of the toilet, in front of the small window, he found a small, handmade vase with rolled paper roses, coloured in red, blue and yellow. He smiled at the roses and pictured himself rolling the paper to make them.

The whole house seemed to be spotlessly clean and organized. Not one thing had been out of place. Standing in the doorway, Michael stared at the bed and envisioned himself underneath Nick's toned body, making love to him and laughing and kissing; the complete opposite of the night before.

His eyes flicked over other areas of the room and stopped at the closet door. Making his hurried way over to the door, he opened it cautiously. Someone living in that clean of a house must have some place to keep the excess. What he thought he might find had been wrong. The medium-sized, walk-in closet was just as neat and organized as the rest of the house.

He searched around for the light on either side of the door only to find a hanging string in the middle of the room. As he pulled on the string, the room lit up the rows of business suits, neatly lined shoes and neckties. Pressed suits hanging neatly, according to colour, and even had matching ties wrapped around the neck of each suitjacket. The closet had been mostly full of suits but he noticed that neither the closet or the dresser had anything of his. "Must have lived somewhere else. But, I've never been here. Do I have a twin, or something?" He sighed and closed the closet door.

~~~

Nick sat in his lavish office on the 11th floor of the company highrise. He had left specific instructions not to be disturbed, unless it was direly urgent. The Samsonite suitcase and carry-on sat open in the middle of the floor, Nick sat in front of it, the gray business-fashioned sofa sat to his left under a long, wide window that let in the day's bright light. The office door was to his right with the blinds on the thin strip windows on either side closed for privacy.

As he picked out the items and looked at them, a smile came to his lips. "You've finally learned how to dress yourself, Michael." The cool chuckles flowed over each of the items he picked out of the suitcase. White cotton shirts and suitpants were both neatly folded and placed inside while the sides were stuffed with small trinkets from New Jersey. Nick paused when he came across a small package envelope of pictures from Michael's other life. As he layed it in his lap, something else in the inside side pocket caught his eye.

A small cellular flip phone.

Nick flipped the phone open and turned it on. The picture on the screen was Michael and a beautiful young woman kissing in front of a boardwalk building in Atlantic City. His smile faded as he saw how happy Michael was in his new life. Skimming through the phone logs, Nick came to the conclusion that his new-found old flame was in love with the young woman as phone pics had indicated. The call logs showed that the name "Patsy" had rang him at least 10 times since the day Nick had seen Michael on the beach.

Moving back to the envelope in his lap, Nick opened it carefully and hesitantly flipped through the full roll of developed film. It was a full roll of nothing but places Michael and Patsy had visited, some even had one or both doing silly things in their poses. He had to smile at one picture of Michael looking back at a big blowfish that had puffed itself out and Michael trying to mimic it. Another had both of them lying on a bed of white linen, fully clothed and facing each other, taking a nap while holding hands. "I suppose you were happy when you left me," he whispered.

The next piece of baggage that caught his attention was the carry-on, yellow suede bag that had sat to the right of the suitcase unnoticed until now. Dragging the bag around with him as he turned to prop himself against the sofa, Nick unzipped it and pulled random bits out of it. The bag of toothbrush and toothpaste that Dr. Madison had packed carefully on top, was the first removed. Nick had noticed that the toothpaste had been the brand that Nick had always used but Michael detested. He wondered why Michael used it when he hated the taste of chalky white paste but loved the feel of cool blue gel. Perhaps it had been a "Richard" thing. His next item was Richard's wallet.

"Richard Asbury, 15336, South River, New Jersey." Nick skimmed through the driver's lisence and absently whispered the address listed. "Asbury? South River? Michael, you went to Jersey City. How in the Hell did you get down to South River?" Putting that off to the side, Nick kept the name in the back of his mind while he went through the rest of the bag. Much to his surprise, he found a thick brown pill bottle full of chalky white pills and yellow and red gelcaps. Reading the bottle, it seemed that the white pills were much like his serum he had been injecting Michael with, and the yellow and red gelcaps were that of generic aspirin.

A small clock alarm on his desk beeped angrily at him to wake from his snooping and give Michael a ring to check on him. Getting up with the bottle still in his hand, he grabbed the pictures that fumbled to the floor from their place on his right knee and carried them over to the desk. Tossing the items onto the desktop, he shut off the alarm and checked the time. He had already wasted three and a half hours going through the suitcases and finishing minor business details.

The phone rang four times before the uneasy voice on the other end picked up. "Hello?"

"Michael? Are you alright?" Nick listened to the clattering of pots and pans and running water in the background as Michael answered the phone.

"Uh, yea. Um, just fine. Just looking for something to fix for lunch." Michael had been trying to juggle holding the phone while making spaghetti for himself. When Nick had called he had been filling the first glass pot with water for the noodles and then moved to fix the sauce. He cursed under his breath as he dropped what sounded like a piece of silverware and then remembered that he was on the line with Nick. "Uh, you coming back soon?"

Nick smiled as he listened. "Yes. I am finishing up here, and should be headed that way within about 10 minutes. Okay?"

"Sure. Um, I guess I'll be here." Michael said with a smile and quickly hung up, not waiting for Nick to say goodbye.

Hanging up and glancing down at the envelope of pictures, he wasn't exactly sure how the night would go. Nick quickly replaced the things back into the bags, excluding a few random items for Michael, and closed up his office. Tossing the few items into his black soft briefcase he carried, and hurried out the door, telling the secretary that sat at her desk, just outside his office, that he would see her on Monday morning.

Nick had thought for the entire way home just how he was going to explain to Michael who he really was and what happened when Michael left those few years ago. Nick had found his lost lover happy with his new life and possibly this Patsy woman was his love in New Jersey. It killed him when Michael left him for "a weekend" and came back five years later. Michael had been happy with his life with Nick but Richard looked truly happy with Patsy.

He sat stopped at a red light, staring at the picture of Richard and Patsy together on a beach with an overcast day. They looked happy; peaceful. Michael had always been overjoyed to have Nick around but the look in Richard's eyes when he looked at this young woman was true love. He would have looked deeper into the scene if it hadn't been for the cars behind him honking to go for the green light that had changed ten seconds after he stopped. Tossing the picture onto the seat beside him, he quickly made his way through the light and down the street to his driveway.

~~~

Nick parked the car in the drive and gathered his things to take inside. Closing the door and turning the alarm on, he glanced over the top of the maroon Lexus, at the curtain-covered window and took a deep breath before going inside. As he walked up to the front door, he listened for the sound of voices coming from inside. Nick unlocked the door and opened it cautiously. "Michael?" His normal toned voice was no match for the loud booming voices coming from his living room. Stepping inside and closing the door behind him, he called again, louder this time, "Michael?" Still no answer. Placing his things on the chair beside the door, he looked around the two front rooms and found himself alone.

His eye caught the jumpy light of the television screen, in the other room, and headed over to turn it off before calling again for his guest. As Nick hit the Power button, he sighed graciously at the silence. "Michael?" This time he was sure to be heard.

"Here." The voice called from the kitchen, behind Nick.

Turning around and taking a few steps over to the other room, Nick noticed that the young man was naked from the waist up as he stood behind the small cooking island. "What are you doing, love?" As Nick came closer, he saw what Michael had been doing and why he hadn't answered him.

Michael held a white dishtowel in his hands, soaked with spaghetti sauce, and wiped at the countre with it. "I uh- had a little accident. Sorry." Michael blushed. "I'll clean it up. I was making something to eat and guess I turned the burner on too high." He stood there with a peach towel around his waist, trying to clean the countre and the floor before Nick noticed the mess he had made. "It got all over the clothes so, I am washing them. I grabbed a towel to wear while I'm washing them." He smiled reluctantly.

The smile on Nick's face made him wish he had a camera for the strange sight he stared at. Nodding, Nick retrieved a washcloth from the linen closet in the laundry room, a small room that had been hidden behind the kitchen, and helped clean up the mess. "I should have warned you about the stove. It's tempermental."

Both men on the floor, wiping and scrubbing the tile and cabinets had started laughing about the mess. "I guess I don't cook, do I?" Michael had joked as he looked up from his piece of tile to watch the other man shake his head and laugh as Nick wiped down the wood cabinet door. When they finished, they both stood and met at the sink to rinse out their cloths. In that instant, something about the way Nick had looked, on the floor, scrubbing and smiling, made him more vulnerable and less likely to be the monster Michael had hoped he wasn't.

Taking Michael by the hips but stopping himself from kissing him, Nick looked down at the towel on the other man and smiled again, softly. "Why don't you go up and get cleaned up and I'll bring you some fresh clothes to wear while the others are drying."

Michael nodded. "Thanks. And sorry about the mess." Heading upstairs to take a shower, Michael wondered why Nick had stopped himself from an obvious kissing moment.

Stepping inside Nick's bathroom and closing the door, Michael looked down at the towel around his waist and decided to grab a clean towel and cloth from the small closet. Discarding the dirty towel to the wicker hamper next to the door, he placed the new towel on the side of the tub and opened the showerdoor to run the water. The shower was clean with forest green marble and aluminum fixtures. Hot water rained down from the showerhead and the sweet smell of Nick's simple shampoo and conditioner made Michael smile. "All this money and fancy things and he uses the cheap stuff." The bodysoap he used smelled of mangos. He loved the smell of mangos, or did he?

Michael had been so lost in the smells of the soaps that he seemed in a daze as his shower ended and he dried himself. The smell of mangos made him smile and feel like dancing. Wrapping the new towel around his waist and opening the door, he found Nick placing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt on the bed before retrieving a pair of boxers from his dresser. Without thinking, Michael went over to meet the other man at the end of the bed and kiss his cheek in thanks for the clothes.

Nick turned to look at him in wonder. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes." Michael smiled. "You use mango soap. I remembered I love that smell."

"Great." It was Nick's turn to smile. "I guess it took a scent to bring something back." He wasn't sure if he was happy with that fact or not. It was relieving that Michael was slowly figuring out who he was again, but at the minor dismay of Nick. "I'll let you get dressed. Are you still hungry?" He stepped over to the door and paused for the answer as Michael had busied himself with his towel and clothes.

Michael unwrapped the towel and looked over his shoulder at Nick, facing the bed. His unkempt, wet hair was more of a turn on than anything as its shagginess fell into his eyes as he looked over his new clothes. "Not really but if you are, you can have something without me." He lingered at the foot of the bed, naked, and turned back to the clothes he had been given. Michael had been so busy with wiping the excess water from his body that he hadn't noticed Nick watching him from the doorway momentarily before slipping quietly from the room.

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