“Aren’t you watching soccer with us?” Shokwakhe asked.

“This one isn’t a fan,” my father said, laughing. “All he’ll do is drool and keep telling us how sexy the men look in their shorts.”

“Do you really do that?” Shokwakhe asked me, also laughing.

“Only when I see a real hunk,” I responded with a nod, then, after a while, I shrugged and managed to lower myself on the couch.

My father and Shokwakhe kept shouting and laughing while they were watching the match, and Shokwakhe accidentally poured beer on his white shirt. “Ohhh! Brother, can I borrow a clean shirt?” he said, but my father was glued to the television.

“Son, show him to the bathroom and give him my grey shirt, but not the one your mother bought for me,” my father said.

I nodded to my father in response, then told Shokwakhe to follow me. I then showed him the guest bathroom, then he walked in and took his shirt off. I could not keep my eyes off him as I handed him the grey shirt, and when he grabbed a towel, I turned my back and started walking out.

“How old are you?” Shokwakhe asked, still with no shirt on.

“Eighteen, I’m in matric,” I responded, smiling proudly.

“Is that why you’re not out shopping?” Shokwakhe asked with a smile on his face.

“Partly. How old are you?” I asked back.

“I’m thirty three,” Shokwakhe responded.

Before saying anything further, I nodded while staring at Shokwakhe’s six pack. “You work out?” I finally asked.

Shokwakhe nodded in response. “You have a killer body. No gym needed,” he said.

“Thanks,” I responded, blushing and shyly while looking down.

After a while, Shokwakhe walked towards me and lifted my face up until I was staring up at him, and he had beautiful eyes. “Don’t be shy,” he said, smiling down at me.

I nodded in response while staring at him. For a moment, it was like he was going to kiss the hell out of me, but then my father called out for me. “Sizwe! Can’t you find the shirt?” he shouted.

“I just found it, father,” I shouted back, then I walked downstairs.

Shokwakhe followed shortly after me, then he stared at his watch. “Brother, I have to go. I have an early meeting tomorrow,” he said.

“You can sleep here,” my father offered.

“I’d love to, but it’s a three hour drive from here to the hotel where my colleagues and I will be meeting,” Shokwakhe responded, then he shrugged.

“Eish, let me walk you out. Please, don’t forget to pass by again tomorrow,” my father said. “Sizwe, say goodbye to your uncle,” he continued, turning to face me.

“Travel safe, Uncle Shokwakhe,” I said, already walking up the stairs.


Tell us: What do you think is going to happen between Sizwe and Shokwakhe?