The Red House

"No."

Becca ground her foot into the broken cobbles of the walkway, the way she always did whenever she really wanted something, "Come on Robbie, we've been talking about this for years! It's perfect," she gestured to the aging mansion perched over a patchy brown lawn and withered rose bushes.

"It's falling apart."

"Not really, the inspector says the structure is sound, it just needs a few major repairs, like new insulation and wiring. Everything else is cosmetic."

"You'll never be able to sell it."

Becca's eyes narrowed, "I'm just going to take that as you being worried, and not a comment on my skills as a real estate agent," her expression softened, "besides you haven't seen what the other historic houses in Rosewood are going for. The one on Pendleton sold for a million and a half last month, and it's like half the size of this one," she smiled, "and their reno was for shit."

"Yeah, but Beccs--"

"You've wanted to work on historic house restoration for how long? Hell, you're getting a degree in--"

"Beccs, it's the Red House."

Becca snorted, "You're worried it won't sell because it's haunted? Robbie, we're not teenagers anymore. Just come inside and have a look."

Before Robbie could respond, she bounded up the stairs and across the wrap-around porch. The double doors weren't even locked, instead they were chained shut by a padlock, which Becca opened, with ease. Why did she already have a key? But, before Robbie could address the sinking feeling in his stomach, she threw open the doors to let in the morning light.

Oh damn. Robbie remembered coming in here when he was seventeen, but it had been dark, and he had been concentrating on other things. Now, fifteen years later, he couldn't help but gawk at the acres of scuffed but still intact hard wood floor, the gingerbread arches over the windows, and the miles of hand-carved dark wood trim circling the remaining walls and doorways.

Wait, why was the drywall missing from most of the exterior walls?

"Becca...did you already buy this place?"

"The bank practically threw it into my lap! I got four hundred for the place, and another two hundred for the reno."

"Two hundred?! That's never going to be enough. I'd charge like twenty five grand for the re-wiring alone."

"Well," her foot pressed into the walnut planks, "if I can save some costs on labor..."

Robbie grumbled, "how much of a loss am I going to take here?"

"I can cover materials."

"Becca!"

She held up her hands, "Wait! It's not as bad as it sounds. You do the wiring and help out on the other renovations, and I'll give you twenty five percent of the profit when all is said and done."

Holy shit, that could be a lot of money, "OK..." Robbie chewed his lip, "but if I work on the non-electrical stuff, I want thirty percent, and," he held up a finger, "and! I want a say on some of the design stuff. There's no point in doing this if the interior looks like every other McMansion in town."

Becca offered a smug smile, "Done." Robbie had the distinct impression she'd expected the additional requirements, that girl had always been a planner.

"OK," Robbie ran a finger through his orange-red beard, it was getting a little bushy, "How long do I have to get the wiring done?"

"End of the month."

"WHAT?"

She offered a theatrical shrug, "You know how this works, I need this place to be turn-key by spring. It's already October. Wiring has to go in before almost everything else."

Robbie grumbled, "Fine. I guess I can work evenings and weekends. Not gonna be a lot of time for much else besides work or school for the next couple of weeks."

Becca stuck out her bottom lip, "Honey, after you ended things with Jose, you haven't exactly been doing much anyway."

"Thanks, Beccs."

"Oh you can throw yourself a pity party in Bali next year with all the money you're going to make when I sell this place. Now come on, the drawings are in the dining room, and I have to put the fear of god into my kitchen-guys."

An hour later, Robbie had returned with his van and the supplies to get started. At this stage it was mostly work lights, measuring tape, and notepads for redoing the circuit layout. At more than five thousand square feet, this place was a monster.Robbie chuckled, despite his high school memories, the only thing monstrous here was the amount of dust.

The Red House, with its faded-blood paint job, was a local town legend. While everybody knew the place was haunted, nobody ever had the same story for why. Robbie grew up hearing tales of the Red House Bride, with her blood-stained dress, Headless Molly, the Saw-Tooth Man, and a dozen other supposed denizens that made this place home. You couldn't graduate highschool without stepping inside. And the bravest kids took it a step further, they tried to spend the night in October.

Probably for the usual reasons, October was regarded as the most haunted month in the house's haunted year. And while Halloween was important, legend had it that monsters really came out on either October 12th or 13th. Maybe it was a Columbus Day thing? Either way, when Robbie and Peter had tried back when they were seventeen, they barely lasted two hours.

But damn, it had been a fun two hours. Until...well...

While part of Robbie wanted to stroll down memory lane, it was already past noon by the time he had worked out the insanity of old aluminum wiring in the basement. As he moved onto the main floor, Robbie took out his laptop and hooked it up to his little battery generator he brought to work-sites. Unfortunately he had more work than just wiring to do.

He pulled up the readings for this week, Historic Trusts and Zoning, (ugh) and started the text-to-speech reading software. It was tough to listen to the already boring chapter delivered in a monotone computer voice, but it let him do his schoolwork and keep his hands free to work.

Despite this weeks' exercise in boredom, Robbie was still really excited to go back to school. The first time was mostly a blur of booze and men, but this time, he really enjoyed the content. Funny how that made the classes actually worth the money, and made him want to finish this time. Even if he always felt vaguely ridiculous stuffing himself into a chair besides twenty-year olds, and even if his dad still looked at him like he had sprouted two extra heads whenever he brought up college.

"Notification. Response Due at Eleven-Fifty-Nine-P-M, Twelve October, for History Three Eight Seven: Historic Preservation Practicum." The software announced the reminder notification in its usual off-kilter voice.

"Shit." It wasn't a long paper. But he needed at least two hours to pound it out. Robbie sighed, and sat down on the wooden floor. Electrical work had to wait.

It had taken almost three hours. By now, the October sun was much lower in the sky, and Robbie had brought out the work lights. So, back to work he went with the warbling computer speak-and-spell voice his only companion.

The sun had almost set when Robbie had gotten to the second floor. Once he realized that it was the twelfth, he decided to leave the work-lights on downstairs. Ten thousand lumen LED was sure to scare off stupid teenagers better than the Saw-Tooth Man ever could. He had work to do damnit!

Yet, as he hunted around the dark bedrooms with his flashlight in tow, he couldn't help thinking back to when he'd last been here. The doors hadn't been chained up back then. He and Peter had snuck in through a missing back window. They'd been circling each other for a while. Robbie was out by then, well at least out to Becca, and she had told him with her usual smug assuredness that Peter, with those absurdly-big brown eyes, was definitely playing for his team.

They had posted up in the main hall with a bottle of stolen whiskey, somehow the house was even dustier back then. Well and truly tipsy, at some point Peter had asked to see Robbie's chest hair, it being that particular fiery red that was so rare. Robbie had thought it perfectly, fair for Peter to take his shirt off too. After a few awkward giggly minutes, Robbie had leaned down for his first gay kiss, and Peter's big brown eyes were soon fluttering as Robbie made his way down his neck.

"Fuck." Without realizing it, Robbie was hard as a rock.

He remembered, slowly, making his way to grab Peter's cock, hands shaking the entire way. It was the first time for both of them, but Peter, with that level of horny sensitivity that only a teenage boy can have, had ground himself against Robbie's hand with a moan.

Oof. Robbie took a long uneven breath, maybe it had been too long. He and Jose had parted pretty amicably, they had certainly discussed still keeping things casual. Maybe he should call him...

Robbie's cock gave a twitch, and a dark spot started growing in his jeans. Or... he could jerk off right now. Yes. Now was good.

Robbie laid down on the walnut panels of the bedroom floor, and hiked up his shirt. The red hair had darkened a little, but there was a lot more of it. He quickly unbuckled his belt and pushed his jeans down until he was bare-assed on the hardwood, it was cold, but it felt good.

He didn't even try to pull up some porn on his phone. Instead he just worked his dick to a frenzy. He couldn't remember being this horny in a long damn time. After only a few minutes, he angled his dick towards his belly and finished all over his chest. The feeling was intense, the rush of blood past his ears made the world roar and even the flashlight started to flicker. After he came, the relief was so overwhelming, Robbie yawned and the world went a little hazy.

Robby woke up in darkness. He reached over to his phone. Only forty minutes had passed. Fuck, what had gotten into him? He found the flashlight, and turned it on again. No mess, thank god. He definitely remembered coming, but there was no real sign of it. Huh.

Robby stood up, hiked up his pants, and went back to work.

Two hours later he was down on his hands and knees in a broom closet next to one of the bedrooms, when he heard a quiet voice behind him, "Robbie."

He shot up, and almost smacked his head against a shelf, before turning around. Jose was at the end of the hallway standing in the long shadows cast by his flashlight.

"Jose? Wh-what are you doing here?"

His ex approached, he was wearing that tight white t-shirt and jeans combo that Robbie always liked. His face bore a shy smile, "I came here to see you, babe."

Robbie blinked, "I-I don't get it. When did I..."

Jose chuckled, "Rebecca told me. She said you were feeling sorry for yourself, and I should come cheer you up."

When did Becca get Jose's number? Robbie was trying to remember when he had told her about the possibility of the two of them still staying casual fuck budies after breaking up when Jose placed his hands on Robbie's shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

A chill ran up Robbie's spine.

"Jose, I appreciate you stopping by, but I really am pretty busy and I--"

Jose pushed himself up onto his toes to kiss him. It was not the usual questing kisses he often started with. Jose could be such a wonderful tease. Instead, he pushed his face into Robbie's and smashed their lips together. Before Robbie could push away, Jose had his hands against Robbie's face, pulling him downward with need.

Unconsciously Robbie's lips parted, and he felt Jose's tongue, his usual skill replaced with desperate need. Jose moaned softly into Robbie's lips, and stepped forward, pushing him into a wall. Despite his shorter stature, his ex could be pretty forceful when he wanted.

Robbie wrapped his arms around Jose, pulling him into his chest. Despite jerking off maybe three hours ago, he was already hard and precumming again. He could feel Jose's cock pressing against his thigh. Robbie pushed his leg forward, and Jose ground against him and groaned.

As Robbie rubbed his lips against Jose's stubbly cheek, he could feel Jose's hand on his crotch, giving him a possessive squeeze.

"Let me, let me suck your dick," Jose whispered into Robbie's ear.

"Uhhuh," Robbie's response was nearly an unintelligible moan.

Jose wasted no time on Robbie's chest or stomach. He didn't even give him another kiss. Instead the smaller man fell to his knees, and began to fumble at Robbie's belt.

Robbie chuckled, and pulled the belt open and popped the button of his jeans. Jose made a throaty noise as he yanked Robbie's pants down to his knees, underwear and all, making his dick spring out with enough force to smack Robbie on the stomach.

Holy shit his dick was so hard it almost hurt.

Robbie took a deep breath and shut his eyes. Jose had wasted no time before jumping on his dick with abandon. He grabbed Robbie's hips and began to push them towards his face, trying to deep throat him. Robbie tried to relax and let it all happen, but something in the back of his mind began to protest.

Since when did Jose ever just go straight for his cock? Even at his most forceful, his ex boyfriend would nibble and tease until Robbie could barely stand it. Not that he minded this. He couldn't remember the last time someone had just thrown themselves so completely on his dick. While the attempt at deep throating felt pretty good, Jose bobbing up and down with pneumatic speed and force, was almost too intense. Didn't Jose usually use his hands more?

"H-hey, Jose, slow down, I--" Robbie looked down to see a head of golden hair moving up and down on his cock, the shock made his body jolt, and a strange man looked up at him with ice-blue eyes.

Robbie screamed at the top of his lungs, pushed the guy over and began to run down the hall. He made it to the stairs, and almost cracked his skull as his jeans hitched his step. With a final desperate yank, he ran to the door, past the now strobing light from the work lamp, and slammed against it.

He pulled at the door but it was like yanking on a rock. In a panic he slammed his shoulder against it. Please! Something! The door didn't budge, and then the work light flashed, before plunging into darkness.

There was a figure standing outside a ground-floor window, staring upwards. Maybe a teenager who'd come to investigate? Robbie roared at him for help, but he stood there as if he hadn't heard. The teenager's gaze never left the second story.

Robbie's breath was ragged and terrible. Holy shit. What the fuck is happening? What the fuck?

"Please don't leave." The voice was strange, sounding quiet as if spoken from across a great distance, it sounded almost familiar.

But it definitely wasn't Jose.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU, WHERE THE FUCK IS JOSE?" Robbie shouted into the darkness. He pulled up his pants over his hips and pulled out his cellphone. It took long seconds, as his shaking fingers flipped on the flashlight mode, barely adding to the distant streetlights coming in through the windows. All the while, the floors creaked as a dark figure slowly descended the stairs.

"If you don't explain right the fuck now, I'm calling the cops!" Robbie bellowed.

"Jesus dude. Don't be such a spaz!" The work lights flipped back on, but seemed muted somehow. The sudden brightness still made his eyes water.

A young man with a mop of gold hair leaned against the bannister at the end of the stairs. He was dressed in a brown and blue jacket with an orange line running across the chest and a pair of bell-bottom jeans. There was a sour expression on his face.

"W-who the fuck are you? And where's Jose?" Robbie's voice was quiet.

"He was never here man." The young man took a step forward and despite being half Robbie's size, he retreated until his back was against the door.

"What does that mean... he was... and then you were..."

"Yeah..." there was a shy smile on his face, "I can continue if you want... you know."

"What?" Robbie sputtered, "No. That is not OK."

The young man shrugged, "you didn't seem to mind," he smiled again, "Looks like you still don't."

Robbie realized that in the all the commotion, he hadn't had a chance to buckle his pants up. He was still very much out, and still uncomfortably hard. He cleared his throat, and put himself away, "Listen, I'm sure you didn't think you were doing anything bad. You're young, and... well you did ask, sort of. But, I think there was a mistake," Robbie pulled himself up, "I think you need to leave."

The young man gave a rueful laugh, "I wish I could."

Robbie blinked a moment before black dread spread through his chest, "Shit. Are you... in high school? Are you here on a bet?"

The young man stuck out his chin, "No man. I'm not in high school. I'm not here on a bet."

Robbie felt a flood of relief, for some reason, more than few barely legal guys had hit him on Grindr, and the thought felt... ew.

"I don't understand... then why can't you leave?"

The young man blinked a few times, before sighing, "You still don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

The young man smirked, before vanishing from the middle of foyer, an instant later he appeared inches from Robbie's face. The young man gave a lazy smile and looked up with ice-blue eyes, "Boo."

Robbie barely felt the knock on his head from the door as he hit the floor.

"You gonna get up any time soon man?"

Robbie moaned and opened his eyes, had he... fainted? As the world began to snap back into focus, he could see the young man standing over him, an exasperated expression on his face. There was a slight ringing in his ears.

"Wha-what? How long was I out?"

The young man shrugged, "hard to tell, I'm not so great with time. Maybe a minute?"

"How did you..." No. That's impossible. This had to be a trick, "Do it again."

The young man rolled his eyes before vanishing and reappearing sitting on the stairs. He kept a practiced look of boredom on his face, but Robbie could see how the young man stared at him.

"Holy fuck. Are you a ghost?"

"And circle gets the square!"

"Huh?"

"Bingo. You're right. Yes." He stood up and walked across the room, his steps sounded solid, "So...uh... now that you know... did you still want to?" He looked away as he spoke.

"What? No! Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with you? You... you looked like my ex, and I thought..."

He raised his head, and looked up, his eyes seemed an even paler shade of blue, "I could... look like that again if it would help..."

There was that same need he felt before, "Why are you so desperate to have sex?"

The ghost glared at him, "If you were stuck in a house watching teenagers fucking for years on end, with nobody willing to throw one your way, you'd be pretty fucking horny too. Besides, I'm not the one who jerked off in a strangers' house. Again."

Robbie's mouth went dry, fifteen years ago, he and Peter had been making out and were about to go further, when suddenly Peter had shaken his head like he was waking up from a bad dream. After a stammering apology, he'd fled, leaving Robbie alone and still very horny. He had decided to finish off, when he heard someone on the stairs, and a voice, 'Please don't leave.' Scared the ever loving shit out of him, and he ran like his life depended on it.

"That was you on the stairs fifteen years ago?"

"Who else would it have been?"

"How--how do you know it was me?"

The ghost screwed up his face for a moment, "Its hard to explain, people each shine a certain way. They shine brighter when... ya know. I mean, even though you definitely look a lot older, you still shine the same way," he looked out the window for a moment, "that was fifteen years ago?"

"Yeah... I'm thirty two now," Robbie paused, "Wait, what do you mean definitely look a lot older."

The ghost laughed, "Don't worry you look..." he blushed, "I don't get to see a lot of guys who are so... grown." He seemed lost in thought for a moment.

"Err thanks. I think." Robbie shifted, "So... uh if you don't mind, I'm going to get going."