Angel, my lover

Fuck! I feel very excited and happy! Things could not have worked out for the better! I've been assigned to work on Carnival weekend! Just picture this, everybody in Brazil will have a holiday from Friday until Wednesday, six, I repeat, SIX days off work! A lot of people will travel, drink, parade, fuck, and I and Angel, my colleague, will be stuck in a large office for that many days!

Angel is more experienced than I. It's been 15 years that he's been working at the customer call center. I've joined the multinational computer company recently, a mere 2 years, if compared to him. He says he likes to work during Carnival weekend, since he does not enjoy traveling or staying home idle. What about carnival? He doesn’t like samba nor parties.

Just then I recall having told him how scared I was in being assigned to work during my Carnival. He said then that I shouldn't worry about it, since others would love to work in my place and earn extra money, after all, we all needed money. Then I could have fun on the streets! But things didn't turn out as he had predicted. And here I am, working with him in this large empty office. Once in a while, we'd get a call. Nothing important. People enjoy their lives during Carnival! They all get a break, but the two of us!

For two years, Angel has been my secret love. I mean, my secret platonic friend. This word friend to me implies friendship, being acquainted, and being close. However, in my fantasies, I've made this friendship into something more meaningful. And yet, we barely speak to each other when we're working. I guess that is because Angel is so discreet and reserved. I've heard some nasty comments about him. Mostly having to do with his growing a large belly than losing it due to diets, being a bachelor, and jacking off in his corner. I see nothing wrong with him. He's just so private and out of reach from the rest of us. Our coordinator always keeps him at a particular section of the office, distant from the rest of the group. Mr. Valente says Angel works best by himself in his corner. Besides, this is what he’s requested in his work contract.

At meetings, Angel says very little, only the bare essential. And when he suggests a plan of action, or criticizes something, nobody disputes him. There is suddenly total approval for whatever he says. Then he marches back to his private and obscure den. Even the security guard, Moraes, does not have much rapport with him. Moraes can talk to just anyone. However, when Angel is concerned, he keeps his counsel to himself.

In a way, all of us in this office have built a sort of mystique around this mysterious man. So, whatever seems strange, mysterious, and queer, attracts my attention. And at given times, when at home, I'd dream and fantasize about my dear sweet Angel. Why? Why such odd dreams? Why would I care for someone so obscure and queer?

During lunchtime, Angel always eats at his desk. Surprisingly enough, I have never seen him leaving his desk throughout the day. I'm sure he takes a coffee break or goes to the toilet. After all, nobody is made of steel. Perhaps Angel is! And I believe that is what makes me curious about him. To me, Angel has taken the dimension of a super hero. He is not vulnerable, he is distant from the rest of us, and he seems to represent everything I lack: physical strength, daring, mystery, and perhaps to a least extreme, passion. Passion for his job!

It's odd I should mention passion here. I guess I've combined all Angel's qualities and turned them into passion. Blind passion, for I've begun to feel drawn to this man. So, during this carnival holiday I feel I’ll have the chance to understand him more. It is my only opportunity to get closer to him.

The first day has not yet finished and I have some serious problems to tackle with a demanding client. I have no one else to run for help but him. I knock at his door.

"Come in!" I think I hear. I open the door slowly, with throbbing heart and sweating hands. To my surprise, Angel is wearing some small shorts and sleeveless shirt in this cold room. Boy, what hair muscular legs he has! The moment I enter this freezing room, I gasp. I then manage to stammer something. He smiles and tells me to sit down. He connects to my caller and solves the problem with a few clicks on his mouse. He doesn’t even look at his keyboard. Later, he puts the phone attached to his ear on the desk, which is filled with papers and software boxes. I look around and just then notice that the place looks more like a storage room, but with buzzing, flickering, and endless machines and a sea of cables.

"Funny, Angel. But I've never been to this room before. It's so cold in here. Don’t you feel cold?" I rub my arms and bite my lips.

"Hey, put this on." He hands me a very large woolen sweater. I remember having seen him wearing that when he arrived today. As a matter of fact, he's always wearing the same sweater. However, I don't recall having seen him in his shorts. I look around for some other clothing article. There, in the corner I find his pants folded on top of some cardboard boxes. They're quite large, for he’s a big man. “I’m used to this place. My own body too keeps changing temperatures. I’m just like a woman in menopause. Today I really feel hot, Ken.” He laughs and I just shake my head.

"It's so cold in here."

"Funny you should only say that." He smiles and pours some coffee in a small plastic cup. So, that's why he never goes out of the room to get coffee. He's got his thermos. This I've got to tell the guys.

"Thanks, Angel. I feel a million times better now." I drink and feel surprised at the taste. "This is excellent coffee, Angel."

"Would you like some more?"

"Please." I take the plastic cup from his large hairy fingers. Just then, I realize how big Angel is.

"Anyway, you can work here if you want. That computer over there can be connected to your server. The software you guys use is the same. Here, use this." He hands me a headset similar to his.

"Thanks. It's cold in here, but at least I won't work by myself. Besides, from here I won’t feel tempted to look out the window." I smile. He frowns.

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“Carnival, Angel! I can’t look out and see people partying, having fun, while we’re, oh, forget it!” Angel shakes his head and continues with his work. I do the same.

It's hard to describe the feeling of being in such a room with this character. Despite his silence and calmness, Angel proves to be a very nice guy. At times he scampers through some wires and hall covered with blinking machines. I turn to him.

“Toilet!” And he opens a door at the end of the narrow hall of wires.

“Jesus!” To go to a toilet, he has to pass through this hall of wires and blinking lights! You’ve got to be kidding me! Later I find out that this room must be kept very cold for the machines not to overheat. No wonder he seldom opens the door.

During our lunch, he even shared with me some of his food. I had brought some too and we have a picnic. I normally do not eat at my desk, but this is a different experience. As we finish our meal, I stand up and walk around the room.

"Hey, I haven't noticed that this room is so large. What do you have over there?" I point to a long dark hall, equally cold.

"Well, that's where all the cables and some other delicate systems are installed. You're right when you say no one ever comes here. It's a restricted area. I guess you're the only one on this floor who's ever allowed to enter here."

"It's so queer. I don't like it. I think I'd better go back to my desk, with the others." I smile and Angel tries to smile back. However, he does not say a word.

Back to my regular desk, I thaw and feel like myself again to continue with my work. I cannot help but look at Angel's door at the back. When it's time to go home, I stay a little longer, just to see if he is leaving too. Instead, I wait for at least fifteen minutes. Nothing. I stand up and decide to check if he's all right there, by himself.

"Angel, I-I just came to say bye. Bye!" I don't remember if I've seen him or not. I've just said those words and left.

"Carl, wait! I'm also leaving. I just need to finish something here." I turn around and see him wearing sunglasses. Jesus! There he goes wearing sunglasses all the time!

He puts his woolen sweater on and his pants. He's surely a large and strong man. We shut all the lights and leave the office.

"Can I offer you a ride?"

"I didn't know you had a car."

"Jesus, and we’ve been working together for over 2 years! Do you want it or not?"

"It depends on where you're going." I tell him where I live. He happens to be heading the same way.

"If you don't mind, I'm stopping at a computer store."

"That's fine. I also need to a webcam and a new keyboard there." Then we go. Needless to say, the computer store is also very cold. Angel seems to feel at home at such places. I freeze. Then we get back to his car with our purchases. And after a short ride, he stops at my door. I notice him staring at my building. He smiles. I thank him for the ride. We smile.

"Would you like to come in for some juice or something?" I am ready for a negative answer and am about to open the car door.

"Actually that would be nice." He smiles and removes his sunglasses. We stare at each other. I see a tear coming down from his eyes. My eyes also get blurred. We both wipe our eyes.

"I hope you like lemonade."

"I love it, with ice cubes on and an umbrella." I stare at him. “Hey, that was a joke. Remember, carnival!”

“Fuck off!” And we both smile. Barely have we entered my place, he starts to fumble my things. I gasp.

“What? What are you doing?” I stare at him. He ignores me.

“Trying to learn as much as I can about you, my friend.” He even turns on my computer. I smile.

“If you’re interested in my stack of gay porn mag, they’re in the closet, near my shoes, Angel!” He stands up and raises both hands and shows his palms to me.

“Now that’s too personal, Ken!” I smile and invite him to sit on my coach. I pour him some lemonade.

“Thanks.” He drinks. “Were you serious about your gay porn mags?” He finishes his lemonade.

“Do you want some more?” I pour him some more in his glass.

“Answer my question, Ken!”

“Oh, that. Yep!” I sit next to him. “Now, I’m the one who’s quite curious about you, dear!”

“And what would you want to know about me?” He finishes his drink and returns me the empty glass.

“I don’t know. Are you married?” I sip my lemonade.

“I’m divorced.” I begin to cough. “Are you ok?”

“Jesus! The more I get to know you, the more surprises I get.”

“He wasn’t, well, following his medication and treatment. Though we had our good times.”

“You’re gay too?”

“Andrea was a trans man. Does that make me a gay man?” I stare at him.

“You were married to a trans man?”

“Yes. But we took all the precautions not to get him pregnant.”

“W-was he your first trans man?” He shakes his head.

“I’ve always loved, trans men, Ken.”

“But he’s not a real man, right?”

“But he had a beard, muscles, a furry body, and a vagina!”

“Angel! Oh, my God!” I smile and tears fall down. He looks away.

“Perhaps I should be going, Ken. Thanks for the drink and, for the support.” I notice his fat hairy finger and the lovely ring. He takes it off and kisses it.

“Angel, take care and see you tomorrow.”

“You’re not scared of me?” I stroke his beard and dry his tears.

“No, dear. How could I?” We both smile and he leaves. I close my door gently.

Fuck! I feel so excited and happy! So far this has been the best carnival of my life! And I wipe my tears that insist on welling up. They make it harder for me to see the shiny studded diamond ring on my finger.