SUBURBAN LEGENDZ: The Gardener

 

 The look of annoyance was back on that face as the man tried to shake the teen’s hand.

There was a rumor floating around town: Kamran Mirzaei didn’t like the gardener his dad had recently hired. Strange for a young person to be the center of discussion for so many, but the townsfolk were more perplexed by Kamran’s dislike. ‘The Gardener’, people lovingly called him as they often forgot his name, had worked on most of the houses in the community. It wasn’t exactly correct to call him only a gardener when he did landscaping, construction, remodeling, and much more. He was always there helping without complaint. If things didn’t make sense, it soon would with The Gardener around.

The Mirzaei’s had moved in a month ago to a house that sat on a hill, overlooking the others. It made sense, everyone knew the family was loaded the minute they saw the furniture being unloaded. Mr. Mirzaei was a gregarious man throwing a house party to get to know the neighbors. Just him and his son who kept away from everyone invested in his phone. That’s where he first glimpsed at The Gardner getting introduced to his dad. That’s where the gardener first saw that look.

And now here it was again, as Mr. Mirzaei gave The Gardener a tour of their new house. The man wore an open flannel, no undershirt, jeans, boots, and a peculiar necklace, Kamran could only assume was store bought, or some form of cheap made pottery. Mr. Mirzaei was looking for a really spruced backyard and money wasn’t an issue. Kamran, however, was clearly over it strutting around in his underwear, enjoying the summer heat. After ignoring the man’s handshake, Mr. Mirzaei told his son to go inside.

Kamran heard his father say, “I’m sorry, he gets restless here being back from college.” Kamran rolled his eyes walking to the fridge and chugging orange juice from the carton. He eyed his dad and The Gardener, from the windows. As if he didn’t know. His dad was being professional, talking all smooth but Kamran knew when his dad was smitten. The moment his eyes landed on The Gardener, Mr. Mirzaei was taken and as they prattled on about plants he was completely smitten.

The work began. The Gardener showed up early every day, greeting Kamran with a smile, as the teen was often the only one up to open the door.  Mr. Mirzaei would bring The Gardener drinks or even snacks, and they'd sit out there and talk before he got back to work. The two men fell into a good pace with each other and Mr. Mirzaei ended up inviting The Gardener to all their breakfasts before work. Kamran would walk down in his underwear only to see the hired help munching on his chocolate chip pancakes. His dad sent googly eyes constantly to an increasingly blushing gardener as the mornings together went on. 

One day after, their guest headed into the backyard to start working, Mr. Mirzaei talked with his son.

“People in town say, be nice to The Gardener.” He dropped another two pancakes on Kamran’s plate.

“So?” Karman said, having already stuffed a slice in his mouth.

Mr. Mirzaei sat down the pan on the stove and turned around, “Kamran Mirzaei.” The man said firmly, getting his son’s attention, pancake eating frozen. The father walked closer, “I know you don't like him. I just can’t understand why. Did I do something, did he say something.”
Kamran dropped his fork on the plate, “We don’t need him dad. He’s just the help.”

Mr. Mirzaei was speechless, “Kamran, no one is ever just ‘the help’. When did you even start think like that, son?”

Whatever spark of anger had flashed inside Kamran extinguished with the sincerity of his father's question.” He’s not. He’s not better than me” Kamran said quietly.

A chuckle, with a sigh of relief escaped Mr. Mirzaei mouth, before developing into a laugh, “Is that what this is about, you’re jealous? Oh, sweet baby boy.” Mr. Mirzaei walked over and hugged his son, kissing his forehead. “Listen to me, no one could ever replace you, in my heart, but you have to be kind.” He cupped Kamran’s face in his hands, making it nod in agreement. “Now I have to leave for a few days which leaves you in charge of the house. Got that? means you'll be helping our gardener out, right?” he asked before playfully moving his son's head more dramatically, “Yes Dad. You’re the best dad, so smart, kind, and charismatic.”

Kamran snorted at the last line, playfully shoving his dad away “As if I'd say that.”

Day one of Mr. Mirzaei being gone was business as usual, Kamran was up to let the man in.

A grunt was his only greeting to the man’s warm hello. The Gardener went straight to work, no delay. Kamran sat in the living room, relaxing in the A/C as The Gardener was working up a sweat. The man caught Kamran staring through the glass walls, as the young man made a fanning gesture, a smug smirk on his lips. The interaction went ignored as the worker continued on. Around noon the gardener knocked on the back door as Kamran entered the kitchen. Turing the young man spotted the man gesturing for water, but Kamran pretended not to know how to make it out. The Gardener went back to work. Eventually Kamran migrated upstairs to game he stepped out on his balcony, leaned forward, arms crossed, and placed them on the railing. Down below, The Gardener toiled away, having removed his shirt, back covered in sweat as he dug a hole. Kamran smiled, then went inside to take a nap. He slept peacefully to the sounds of the gardener’s hard work. When he woke up, he could still hear the metal hitting the dirt as his phone rang. He reached for it, but his finger grazed against something else lifting his head he spotted a necklace. A string with a symbol. The Gardener’s necklace.

Then his eyes adjusted. It was just an old cross necklace he wore. He rubbed his eyes weirded out; his mind had fabricated something else entirely. Picking it up he walked outside to his balcony watching The Gardener again. A pretty good show. He smirked, placing his necklace on. It dangled on his chest as the ornament bounced off his pecs. He let the necklace go and put his head up. The shovel The Gardner was holding clattered into the dirt. The man had disappeared. Kamran gripped the sides of his rail leaning forward, looking around. Nothing. He ran downstairs, storming out the back door.
The man was gone.

Kamran knew he had fucked all the way up. The Gardner probably fucking ran off. He put his hands on his head. His dad was going to be so mad. He looked around at the leftover supplies. His dad wouldn’t be mad; all he had to do was make it look like the man got as much work done as he could. Then Kamran could pretend the man was ghosting his dad through no fault of his own. That’d make sense.

He stepped outside with no idea what to do. So, he started small. Grab the shovel and dig. A bigger hole had to mean something to his dad. He hoisted the shovel and drove it down. The tip caught in the dirt and refused to go further. Kamran pushed, but the muscles he worked and trained every day at the gym meant nothing; the boy had never done hard labor before. Then all at once his body adjusted, his shoulders squared, his stance widened, and he put the head into the ground and stepped on it pushing it down. It slid like butter, rewarding him with a healthy patch of dirt. “Yes!” he cheered himself, starting on the next.

The sun beat down on him, but Kamran took no notice of his own body sweating. He couldn't afford to, one wrong move and his dad would know. Every clink into the dirt was done smoother, more skillfully than the last. The teen’s body began to hoard bulk in its frame as each section Kamran's body worked in unison to shovel more. By the time he stopped, dusk had set in. A cool breeze blew and he could feel how absolutely soaked he was.  Kamran caught a whiff of iron and mud rising his body. No cologne, no deodorant. He didn't smell like him; he smelt like someone else.

Dropping the shovel, he stumbled back into the house. His body ached with every step, his joints were exhausted, limbs numb. Slowly he peeled off his clothes making his way to the shower leaving a trail behind him. When he shed his underwear, his cock flapped out feeling heavier than usual, slapping his thigh but he couldn’t register it. Feet larger than what he was used to, helped him step inside the shower. But even still it took a firmer forearm to help him keep his balance. The water ran over him, not waking him, but soothing his body. Dark curls fell over his face devoid of highlights. No thoughts about it. He grabbed the soap and scrubbed away the day. Suds ran over his flesh, bubbling with a more sun enriched finish by the time they were washed away. When he got out of the shower he saw his reflection, and without much aplomb went to his bed and collapsed. Out.

“Ah this is a nice place you got here.” a voice spoke.

Kamran sat up from his bed immediately because he knew it was his voice. Only he wasn’t speaking. He froze. Sitting in his bedroom, in a chair across from him, was a clone of himself. No, that wasn't true. This version was beefier, older, wearing a different chain and in sweats. The clone looked more like the guy Kamran had just seen in the bathroom mirror.

Despite the physical resemblance, there was one major difference, one beyond clothing and accessories. The eyes. They were Kamran Mirzaei’s gorgeous dark browns, but he wasn’t the one looking back through them. The words fell off his lips. “You’re The Gardener.” There was something in that look that made Kamran know that man was the other version of him.

“That’s right, Kamran.” 

“Why are you in my house? Why do you look like me?”

The other Kamran, answered with a deeper baritone, “You know though people call me a gardener, I fancy myself a bit of an interior decorator too.” He looked around and tapped the wall behind him, and the chair he was sitting on. “It’s nice here; inside you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This bedroom. This house. It’s not your actual place Kamran; It’s your soul. I’ve been in, up and down, strolling through it all day.”

“The fuck? Get out of me,” Kamran ran his hands over his chest.

The other Kamran sucked his teeth, “See I can’t do that. You put on my necklace. In doing so absorbed my…everything. “He pointed to the silver cross around Kamran’s neck. “It’s called the great uniter, where I’m from. I’ve had to do this a few times throughout the years. Though your body got a good start, I think the merger will be complete tomorrow.”

“You can’t just take me over, that’s fucked!”

The other Kamran rolled his eyes, “Like I said, you absorbed me, I had nowhere to go but tour around you. And let’s be honest, with your personality, you were begging me to move in. You could use some remodeling.”  He winked. “I don’t usually need to step into most cases but yours is special. Needs a new foundation. I think enough of us will be united tomorrow for us to have a spin. Get ready to get a whole lot bigger when you’re done processing me.”

“Wait, just wait,” Kamran held out his hands, scared to move off the bed and get anywhere near the other version of himself, “My dad adores you. I can’t be responsible for absorbing you.”

There was a wince, a tight jaw clench, from the other Kamran, as he dragged his fingernails on the arm rest. “You should have thought about your dad’s feelings before you decided to be an ass today.” He paused letting his anger diffuse, “But I wouldn't worry too much about your father. He’ll be fine, I promise. What you and I both are will come together.”

“This is so fucked.”

“What are you so upset about? I’m like the best protein booster your body will ever have. Look what’s happened to it already.” The clone bounced his pecs, and Kamran felt his move in unison.

Kamran flung himself under the covers, apologizing for being a dick. He closed his eyes and kept saying it, even as the world around him slipped away and he sunk.

Kamran’s eyes opened. The next morning. Sunlight peered through as birds chirped in the Distance. The young man in bed stretched, arms longer than they’d ever been, he scratched his stomach, abs cut deeper, then swung two giant legs with hammock-sized thighs to the side. Kamran did all this. But there was a problem: he wasn't moving his body. Kamran had taken a back seat in his own body’s autonomy.

“Ahhhh,” Kamran’s mouth yawned.  “Feels like you’re up in there, good morning.” His body said to the air. And Kamran already knew who was talking. Who else but The Gardener?

Kamran’s body rose, walking over to his dresser to apply deodorant and cologne. “Whew, you rich people sure like your scented shit.” An imitation of his regular routine. “Hey look, history’s changing,” He pointed at a picture and leaned closer. It was only from a few months ago, but now it felt like years ago and Kamran was in the same bulky body as he had now looking older.

Fuck. He could see The Gardener showing through him. The face, the smile, the leg spread, the muscles were all his and yet somehow not.

“I can feel your worry there. You should calm down. We’re gonna be the same, once you absorb the fuck out of me and grow yourself up a little.” He snorted out Kamaran’s laugh, “or rather a lot.” He threw on some fresh underwear for Kamran, tight on their ass and crotch, then headed downstairs for breakfast. The Gardener was even perusing around like Kamran still did in Mirzaei's new home. He smiled at the mirror checking his teeth, bopped on every step but the last. He wasn’t just imitating; He was living it. 

Once downstairs Kamran sensed a shift, his body even wobbled with a “Whoa”. And then he heard his own voice playing in his mind like a voiceover. His thoughts. Or was it The Gardner’s thoughts? It had Kamran’s cadence and indentation either way and was telling him he was hungry as shit. A very common line for him early in the morning. The barrier between Kamran and The Gardener was dissolving; they were truly becoming one.

No, he didn’t want that. To be a blue collar worker, to become a random nobody in his father’s eyes. Kamran’s body moved on though, unimpeded by the fears.  He was bending over pulling out pots and pans to make some food.

“Usually, dad does all the cooking, and he always makes my favorite!” His thoughts said in his mind. Kamran’s eyes studied his hands flipping them over. “Princely things, with not a scrape, cut, or bruise, to show any amount of true use, but they’re big meaty paws now at least.” Unlike any skill Kamran had ever shown before his body got to cooking. He made breakfast and began to eat it. “Not as good as Dad’s.” His thoughts rung out and Kamran found himself in agreement. They looked outside. It was yard work time again. Kamran’s body retrieved a pair of sweats, sunglasses, and popped on a pair of tennis shoes as he marched outside. Not the best outfit but he had to make do.

He got to work.

Kamran got lost in the monotony of it all, brain following the same pattern, learning and memorizing his body’s movements. Until he was the one doing it. The necklace on Kamran’s body lost its facade as it changed back into its true form. The Gardener could feel it; Kamran was about to take him in completely which meant Kamran knew that too. Kamaran kept shoveling on Autopilot.

In his mind the wall between him and The Gardener had crumbled and now they faced each other in a cramped space. Clear walls surrounding them with nothingness on the other side. The walls began to close in until they were trapped in a bubble. The Gardener laid back coolly as Kamran scrambled for escape. Then out of nowhere The Gardener exploded. Popped like a water balloon into iridescent liquid. Kamran’s body began to soak it up like a sponge, forcing it to flow directly into him. There was no invasion or intrusion, after all The Gardener had already made himself at home deep in Kamran’s soul, this was him bubbling out to the surface.

As Kamran’s body moved his lats and delts spread like he was about to grow wings. His pecs sagged with true definition, nipples popping. The sun cooked his abs to double stuffed versions of himself as his arms hulked out veins running all across the surface. Kamran’s neck became a pillar, the new base of his head as his face morphed incorporating The Gardener over overpowering features. The facial hair exploded into a light beard and the curls in his hair got sucked back inward to a low cut. Kamran the teen was eradicated to make way for Kamran the man.

 As a final statement, his pants and shoes morphed into more appropriate attire. Kamran had all The Gardner’s knowledge no fucking way he was going to work in sweats and tennis. He picked up the shovel and dropped it on his back. He was complete.

—

Mr. Mirzaei came back home, 2 days later, surprised to not find Kamran engaged in some electronic activity. Hearing the hard work outside he walked out carrying some water. 

“Hey, I brought you something.” The man shook the water bottle over the hole. 

“Oh, thanks dad.” The man tossed up the shovel then climbed out. He hugged his dad as a welcome, then kissed him on the lips. Mr. Mirzaei was shocked at first but gave in as his son’s tongue begged his dad to explore his mouth. The two made out in the back yard, Mr. Mirzaei hands exploring Kamran’s wide wrestler-shaped back.

“Seems like…you missed me.” Mr. Mirzaei pulled away with a laugh, as Kamran’s cock pressed into his body. There was something off about all this, but he couldn’t exactly lock what. This was his boy Kamran and why wouldn’t he be working on the garden; It was his gift to his father.

“Always,” the man breathed heavily. He was a strong 6’5, several inches up from his previous height in youth. He had a couple of inches over his father now.

“Well, I’m going to make dinner, while you continue to work up a sweat big guy. Then maybe we can get clean together?” He used a hand to pinch Kamran’s nipple and Kamran's cock flexed. His son was really needy today; just the way he liked it. The thought wasn’t odd at all. Hard to make it back to the house when he kept stealing looks to watch the back flex and ass bend over as dusk set in.

There was a rumor floating around town: Kamran Mirzaei didn’t like the gardener his dad had recently hired. Strange. As far as everyone knew, Kamran Mirzaei was known as ‘The Gardener’. Who would his dad have hired that could have done a better job? When people thought about it, things didn’t make sense. How were Mr. Mirzaei and his son the same age? How had everyone in the neighborhood worked with Kamran if his father and him only moved recently? How did they end up dating? These were questions no one was pressed to answer but lingered in the air.

Neighbors would come over for a night house party to see the finished beautiful backyard garden aglow with lights. Mr. Mirzaei lauded and sung his son’s praises, before the two of them locked lips. No one batted an eye; everyone knew they were together from the moment they arrived. Many had seen the way Mr. Mirzaei watched his son carry furniture out of their moving truck. They’d see Kamran around town and say, “There’s The Gardener" or “That’s Mr. Mirzaei’s boy!”

As for Mr. Mirzaei, it was difficult to hang on to paltry questions when having mind blowing sex every day. They’d get fucked out of him, whether his son was giving 9 in., or throwing back his pillowy muscled ass. Mr. Mirzaei had believed their family to be well endowed, but his son was blessed all around. There was no place he loved shooting his cum more than up Kamran’s ass. There was something about his son being an absolute hunk that drove him wild.

As for Kamran Mirzaei, ‘The Gardener’, he’s still in those lush green suburbs, filled with vegetation and life, working on his next project. A picture of him working on one of his sites hangs huge in his father’s home as if it’s his first day at school. Though it may not make sense immediately. No one was worried, with ‘The Gardener’ around, it would soon.