The drill: This story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, school campuses, crowded beaches, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story.
Various states and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing adult material'. It is up to the reader to research this subject, abiding by their own laws. The pages of this story contain adult material', intended for an `adult audience'. Bypass this warning at your own risk.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have, over the years, consider adding some support for `internet $pace' or else I will have to start cutting steamy characters out of my stories. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
^o^ Concluding remarks ~ reading this story could make you stiff or gooey, so I would suggest not reading it in a classroom...you should be paying attention to the professor anyhoo...just sayin'! :)
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ALeK iN wONdeRfULaNd 07 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Once underway for their destination, Aronold's small room occupied at his bro's house, one conversation divided into many.
Johnny, for instance, was concerned with Slim, "You're awfully quiet?"
"Just thinkin'," Slim replies in a low tone, looking out the window at the `blurs' passing by.
"If it's about Junior having your taxi towed, it wasn't your fault, y'know?"
Tearing himself away from viewing nothingness, the 26-year old taxi driver, or `former' as Slim viewed it, "It was my fault I up and left it, going on a wild ride with you guys!"
The way Johnny saw it, "Alek said he would pay for the meter running, besides, you had a good time with me, didn't you?"
A `good time', generally, Slim did, but adding the extra to the special, "Of course. I still am," he squirms a bit, lodged under Johnny's butt!
Talking to slim, as if speaking to the door, to keep things he was about to unload secretive, Johnny says, "I don't think I'm into that. More, I'm into doing the other thing."
Slim took it as private, Johnny surrendering to coming to terms with his shyness, conversation about gay stuff, Slim works with it, throwing out one of many metaphors, "Me apple, you worm?"
It took Johnny a few seconds to think.
Thinking Johnny didn't get it, Slim defines it, "Let me fill you in. I'm the apple and the worm is..."
He just got it, all on his own, Johnny saying, "I know what you're saying. I'm not dense, you know?"
Conversation still hinged on light, not crossing over to anger or anything of that sort, Slim asks the obvious, "Uh, just how big is your worm?"
Deric the culprit' enlightening Johnny on how guys went after a top' man with the same, how big', whether they called it a worm, boa or other, gave Johnny clue on how to handle it. If the dude really turned you on and was already making your shaft hard, say something like, there was only one way to find out,' which threw the ball back in the dude's court. On the other hand, Deric told Johnny, if the dude didn't ring his chimes, `That's my business!'
Liking, or not caring for Slim, Johnny knew the answer to that, "Kind of big?"
"Kind of?"
Not much different than any bottom in heat, a position Slim choose with Johnny, even though his cock wanted to break the zipper of his pants, Slim sought more info to go on, from a humorous perspective.
Then, relying on Deric's catch-phases, "There's only one way for you to really find out, Slim?"
"I'm game. I'm game!"
Eavesdropping on Slim and Johnny, Alek waiting for Slim's predickament to clear the air, "You can always make the trip with us, Slim?"
Lost in Johnny, Slim comes in right in the middle of thought, asking, "Trip? Where we going?" he laughs.
Via the rearview mirror, Alek stares at Drew, eyes connecting.
Both knowing the same thing, Slim's inattention, Drew says, "I think you're a little too old for college, Slim."
Like no one said anything, Slim reiterates, like he's speaking to Johnny "College?"
Not proud of himself, though not really his fault due to the action he felt compelled to take, Johnny informs them, "I was in the top of my class. Friends said I would be valedictorian. If I didn't runaway, I would..." Turning solemn, "I wanted to go to college, but now I have to worry about making up high school and getting my diploma."
This time, instead of the mirror, Slim turns his head towards Alek.
"Even at `my' age," Aronold says, "I was thinking of going back to school. Though, I'm not sure what my course of study might entail. At least my eyes can feast on the scenery!"
A bit Giddy, Slim says, "Hmm, now there's an idea I could get in on!"
Alek breaks their spirit, "They don't offer courses in boy-watching, fellas!"
A serious-like, Johnny observes, "Boy-watching? Are you for real, Alek?"
Aronold and Slim were the ones making with eye connection. Unknown to either, they both had the thought, `Is he for real?'
Getting a slap in the head after a brief silence, Aronold feels his cheek, "What was that for?" he tries, turning his head, to look Alek in the face.
"For being such a dope, moron!"
Slim couldn't see it, not with Johnny's ass on his lap, but Aronold could, "I think Johnny's had his first prank on us, Slim!"
Sure enough, the astute Johnny sat there, wondering if more than Alek got his little joke!
Alek, even though Johnny was a little cheery, he supported him with, "With your smarts, Johnny, I bet you can make up high school and still make your freshman year of college."
"You think?" Johnny replies.
Interrupting, Drew throws on the brake, "This here's the place...or where the GPS has brought us? Look familiar Arne?"
Soon as the Jeep door opened, Alek sensed it, wondered if the others, Arne's change of attitude.
From bright, brotherly, is sounds like a chip on his shoulder, "Unfortunately, yes."
More like, the way it was every night, returning to his brother's place, in lieu of having his own pad to call `home'.
"We'll come with you, to help you carry..." Alek starts to get out.
"No," Aronold pressures, a hand to Alek's chest, "would be better if I handled this myself."
After Aronold shuts Alek in, he says, "Was it my breath?" he breaths into his own hand for a whiff and sniffs.
Deric, who had been quietly nursing his nose, hoping it was not broken, nor bent out of shape, remarks, "Probably cum stains in your shorts!"
"Really?" Johnny looks to Alek, not pretending he is serious!
"Not really Johnny," Alek replies. "Some of us make guys clean us up, afterwards!"
"Nice idea," like Deric hasn't had a guy lap up his pubes till the trimmed hair was nice and squeaky clean.
"Yeah, right," Alek is wise to Deric.
For the most part, the rest remained silent. Miguel had nodded off, more into a deep sleep. Slim smiled, seeing a part in Miguel's white shirt, tensed at the tummy, fibers of his treasure trail showing.
"Well, I don't see anything," Drew opened his door, stood on the running board of the jeep, "nor do I hear anything."
Shortly, Alek was standing there next to him, brace of the jeep between, "Maybe we should go in and introduce ourselves?"
"Give him 5 more minutes," Drew falls into the jeep, his butt hitting the seat with a thud.
Deric asks, "Hey, did you just fart?"
Making a fist, Drew says, "Maybe I should make sure your nose is broken!"
Hopping off his perch, Alek says, "Arne's had enough time."
Little did any of them know, Aronold was having a three-way conversation with his brother and sister-in-law.
His brother was shaken with the aspect of his `baby brother' fleeing the roost, clear across the country. Yes, he did ask about the job, Aronold not sure if he left on his accord or was fired, leaving it simply, "I've severed ties with the jeep dealer. I figured it was time for a fresh move. I'm only 26, you know?"
Aronold's bro, Thorsten, or Sten, as most called him, had married while still in college. At the time, Aronold termed their union as an unholy match up, which after a period of years, it became as predicted. It's why Aronold would procrastinate after getting off work, returning to the dwelling in the late hours of the evening. At the time, broke and down on his luck, is was a a godsend.
Sten, he was an okay guy.
Not his wife, Cordelia, whom right now was being a real witch, "Well, what are we to do without rent money?"
Not which it mattered now, his mind made up, Aronold says adamantly, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a fuck!"
Eyes popping out, like he knew they would, Cordelia complains, "Thorsten, are you going to allow your brother to talk to me like that?"
Fact of the matter, Sten rather was enjoying it, a coward at standing up to his wife most of the time, "Of course not, dear!" Taking Aronold by the arm, "Why don't we go in your room and talk about it, Aronold?"
Second dig, Aronold says, "I'm not sorry for what I said!"
It only made Cordelia fume some more.
On the way to Aronold's room, smallest in the middle income home, Sten says, "I wouldn't be either, bro."
Door closed, Sten had some things to get off his chest while Aronold packed, "I'm gonna miss you, you know?"
Hinting something else, Aronold replies, "Daily swab of your cock and balls, by chance, that it?"
Reason Aronold stayed away until after 7pm, Cordelia would head out for her night time job. After that time there wasn't much Tv-watching, nor exercise going on in the basement gym...nothing more than Sten doing some pushups, Aronold counting the reps!
"I'm going to miss you," Sten confesses, walking towards his bro.
Dropping the half-stuffed duffle bag, Aronold welcomes Sten with open arms, "Why do you even bother staying?"
Sten wasn't sure, other than things like finances were all tied up, reputation at work, and other matters which he would jeopardize, coming out at this stage of the game, relying on the general expression, "It's complicated."
"I could give you a few answers, but why waste my breath!"
"I know," Sten hugs tighter.
It felt good, like every night, holding Sten in his arms. Though, naked was better than running his hands up and down the back of a shirt, "Maybe I can find `someone for you', before I leave...I know some guys..."
"Nah. Don't worry about me. I'll be okay," Sten replies, breaking off.
"Right," Aronold says with sarcasm, "but for how long?"
Ditch effort, moving topic away from himself, Sten says, "So, you're going back to school?"
"Yeah, can you imagine? Me, strolling around campus, wanting to suck every guy's cock?"
"Restraint. That's key," Sten gives advice.
"I don't think that's going to affect the stock market, Mr. Businessman?" Aronold goes back to his packing.
Smiling, Sten says, "Like I've always thought, when you're up, you're up. When you're down..."
"I don't even want to think about it, Sten?"
Giggling, Sten says, "Horny bastard!"
"You got that right!" Aronold smiles, licking his lips.
Stretched out on the bed, relaxed, on purpose, Sten had hoped it would give his brother the hint, on one last time before, "You will be coming home periodically?"
Not wanting to say it might be a long time, before he could get himself situated, "Sure. I'll see you on the holidays, of course."
Hearing a knock on the door, Sten jumps off the bed, "Cordelia!"
However, it wasn't, Aronold opening the door, "Alek? What are you doing here?"
"Thought you might need some backup," his eyes were more on Sten.
"This is my brother, Sten. This is Alek," Aronold does the introductions.
"Boyfriend or friends?" Sten asks, returning the eye-gazing.
"We haven't slept together," Alek replies, "yet!"
Coughing, Aronold says, "Um, you didn't happen to come help pack?"
Even though only clothing and a few articles realistically belonged to Aronold, Sten tells him, "Take anything you want, Arn."
He couldn't resist, Alek saying, "Does that include you?"
Telling it like it is, Aronold says, "Sten is only gay when he wants to be!"
From his days at the men's room, back in the park, after the neighborhood breakup, Alek, after a while, show no inhibitions to walking up to a guy, groping him, finding out something which could tell more than words.
"I think he wants to be!" Alek says, working some hand magic on Sten.
"Oh man...feels good, but..."
Right after Alek unhands him, Cordelia walks in, which made Sten back away, Alek's hand dropping away.
"For not giving proper notice, I'm keeping your security deposit!"
"What?!" Aronold was livid. "We're talking 3 months, Cordi!"
She hated the name, but for right now she wielded the sword, `pants of the family', whatever dominating name affixed, "Maybe you should have thought about that, instead of going out drinking every night!"
It was the story Aronold often spun, which now was doing him no good. Although, part of it was true, the `drinking', from the bar between Sten's legs!
Not having any knowledge of their family life, nor anything between the trio, Alek says, "And where were you every night, out with your homophobic knitting group at church?"
From having pulled the wool over Aronold's eyes, to uncontrollable anger, Cordelia barks, "I want them out of my house, Sten!"
Slamming the door really rattled things, wallhangings and the trio, Alek saying, "She on the rag?"
Looking to his bro, Sten replies, "Most likely the case."
Leaving, Alek actually got a kick out of her southern accent, "Y'all catch my drift? Like, out of my house?!"
On the side, Aronold mumbles, "You're house too, bro!"
Sten goes to the door, looks out, like checking out a haunted house, turns back, closes the door, "At least she didn't make the connection between you and your boyfriend?"
"He's not my boyfriend," Aronold replies.
Getting it, Alek asks, "You're not out, Arne?"
"I know," Sten says, regarding his bro's gay lifestyle.
"But does she know?" Alek questions.
A tiny knock at the door, an even smaller voice asks, "Alek, you in there?"
Swinging the door open, Alek says, "Yes, Johnny, I'm in here. What's up?"
"Nothing. We all wondered what happened to you. They said I should come in and ask."
"They?" Alek very knew well whom the cowards were!
Sten just couldn't keep it to himself, unloading it on his brother, about Johnny, "Adorable. Just adorable, bro!"
While Alek and Johnny had their conversation, something about Drew thinking it would be a good idea to get some gas, the brothers stood there admiring the blond beauty!
Finally, with little else to say or do, but gawk, Aronold, knowing the feeling mutual, "I'm sure going to miss you, Sten and I don't man working out with you in the basement!"
Alek catches it, "What was that Arne?"
"Uh, nothing."
Knowing he heard right, something he picked up from his gay-education with Mark, Alek knew at sometime, some place, he would get Arne to talk about it, making a steamy bedtime story!
"Slim wanted to know, where are we staying tonight," Johnny asks.
"Don't look at me," Sten says. "Cordelia and a house full of rowdy teens, I don't think she'd go for that too lightly."
Another chunk of history falling on Alek's ears, Aronold says, "Gay teens, at that. Could you imagine what her good church upbringing would have to say about that, Sten?"
"Shit!" Sten caught himself, plastering a hand over his mouth. Removing it, he says, "Gay? Like, how many are we talking here?"
"Would be sweet," Aronold got his brother's drift, "but Sten," he tags his brother on the shoulder, "remember it's `you' who's going to have to live with her after we're long gone?"
Sten knew the score, "You're right, but it'll make a nice fantasy to jerk off to tonight!"
Alek, being obliging, says, "Johnny and me can fuck you at both ends before we leave, if that'll help?"
Johnny, admiring little knick-knacks, didn't get the connection, but Sten sure did, "Uh, no. But thanks. I appreciate the gesture."
Taking a box a piece, Alek and Johnny walked out, heading for the car. When they showed, Drew came from the rear of the Jeep saying, "Hey, I found an empty. Think Arne can use it?" he held up a box.
"Sure. Why not?" Alek replies.
Very polite, from his job requirement at the Hacienda, Drew was cordial, "Excuse me m'am, can you tell me where Arne is?"
One thing Cordelia couldn't understand, is how a 32-year old man knew so many teenagers. He worked for a car dealer, not a high school, though did question whether it could be a college. Going about her business, she realizes they can most likely find another renter. The smile becomes a grin, when she thinks of how they don't need to offer a discount in the rent, Thorsten running out of family in need of a place to stay'. Coupled with the non-return of 3 months of security, she was counting every dollar and penny. Thinking of this, Cordelia thought maybe she could go part time at the salon she cut hair, for a while. Then she got greedy, thinking of the advance Aronold pays to have his laundry done. In order to rub his fact in the dirt' one more time, she headed down the hallway, a certain swagger to every foot pounding the wooden floor like a drumbeat.
Her house, she felt she didn't need to knock, busting right on in...
"Oh my Lord, what the hell are you doing with my husband?"
Running over to Sten, standing there, it was like he was minding his own business. Drew, he was the `bad guy', a hand down the front of Sten's pants.
Always the gentleman at work, Drew still kept the upbeat, cordial attitude, "A little hand-to-gland action. What do you think, lady?!"
Of course, Aronold felt sorry for his brother, though was getting a little tickle out of Drew, "Damn, woman, you act like you never saw a man getting a handjob before!"
Soon, it became obvious, it wasn't only on Drew's accord, "Damn you, Thorsten!" she races out of the room.
Sten, not sure whether to laugh or cry, says, "She probably went to get her shotgun."
"Fuck! Really?" Drew exclaims. Eyes wide as saucers, thinking he could be dead in a few minutes, "Uh, I think I left the jeep running!"
"Better make a run for it, son," Aronold advises, even though Drew was already making light tracks.
After Drew does hightail it out of there, Sten says, "There's no shotgun, bro."
"Yeah. I know, but if I remember correctly `you' gave her a new set of steak knives for Christmas?"
"Shit, I didn't think of that."
"Well, I'll be in touch," Aronold goes for that one last hug.
"Wherever you wind up, send me your address and I'll make sure you get back those security deposits."
"No, forget it. There's no way you're going to pry open the doors of Cordi's coffers," Aronold disengages, picks up his duffle.
"Well, maybe I've got a little stash of my own!" Sten smiles, polishing his fingertips off with a breath of hot air.
Returning the smile, Aronold adds words of wisdom, "It'll come in handy during the divorce."
"Don't temp me!" Sten laughs.
However, all the joking was a masque, an attempt to hide their true feelings, friends and memories of a long-lasting bromance, which started back in preteen years, escalating to more.
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By the time Aronold made it to the jeep, the story had circulated, Drew making it sound like there was a shotgun staring him right between the eyes.
"Is that true, Arne?" Johnny asks.
Looking to Drew, like would it matter if he fibbed a little?
"Yeah. It was like, almost murder, if Drew hadn't taken off!"
The gang had also received the account as to `why' Drew was staring at the barrel of a shotgun, Slim saying, "I was about to ask, what went off first...the gun or Sten's cock? He was close, you know?"
Laughing, the others did as well.
Making a good joke come to an end, Aronold, a little confused over such a hurried decision, asks, "So, where are we off to now?"
The man holding the fistful of cash, says, "Tonight boys, we're living in the lap of ultimate luxury. Drew, set the GPS for Beverly Hills!"
"But I don't have that kind of money!" Johnny reacts.
"Don't worry," which was a sign for them to start worrying, Arne saying, "I have a feeling when we get to New Jersey..."
"Jersey, Arne?" Alek corrects.
"When we get to `Joisey'," Arne enunciates, "we're going to get served with a bill for all our amenities along the way!"
Slim butts in, "I wonder something?"
"What?" Johnny replies.
"I wonder, if the place they towed my taxi, if the meter's still running?"
"You can forget that, Slim, I ain't paying and you can forget a big tip!"
"Tip, Alek? I think a night at whatever hotel you picked out, in the Hollywood Hills is tip enough! Right, Johnny?" Slim, arms around Johnny's middle, keeping the `griddle' warm, pats him on the stomach.
Seriously, Johnny laments, "They'll probably kick me and Deric out. We don't have any money for rent!"
"Don't worry, babe," Slim rubs his shadow against Johnny's cheek, "just stand behind me. I'll tak'em on!"
It mystified some of the others, particularly Alek, Slim sometimes taking on a more assertive role, yet a hint of wanting to be on hands and knees, a guy coming up behind, ready to `infiltrate', "Oh really Slim...like, is this one of your longing fantasies?"
"Y'know," Slim says it like it is, "if you weren't footing the bill for all of us poor guys, I'd give you a piece of my mind, Alek?"
"No problem there, Slim," Alek taps Johnny's thigh, meant to impose on the former taxi man, "if I don't like what I hear, I'll get even and give you `my piece' and trust me, it ain't gonna tickle!"
They all howled, Alek shaming Slim in this way, though some of them hoped, wished, Slim's shoe was on their foot, wanting a piece' of the action. Sight unseen, they could picture Alek as having this big' ramming tool, visible even when he wasn't hard.
Only one to take notice, mind on recall, is Arne, "I used to work an oil well...trust me on this one, boys, if the wrong drill bit starts drilling, much is at stake when a fat drill impacts a narrow hole!"
"Fracking?" Drew showed he was paying attention to more than the road.
"The final outcome," Alek smiles, thinking how nice it would be to force-flood Drew's underground chamber!
If took some of them all of a few seconds to relate, drill bit compared with what Alek threatened with putting in Slim's hole.
Johnny getting wiser by the minute, turns a cheek, "Wow, I never knew anyone who worked an oil rig, Arne. What's it like?"
Alek clicks teeth, tongue behind the bridge of brighty-whites, making a sucking sound, thinking Arne's reference has gone right over the 18-year old's head, "Man, what a moron!"
"What?" Johnny replies, changing focus towards Alek.
It was the way Johnny was, a person not being able to tell if he was joking, or serious.
From the back seat, Adam comments, "Tell me you're not for real, Johnny?"
Noticing some of that `slave attitude' wearing off, Arne defends Johnny, "Did you forget your place, Adam?" he laughs it off.
Whether it made the guys think likewise, more it drew attention to Adam and the subject returns, regarding wearing the chain and lock around his neck.
Deric, having had a nice time' with Brick, had been through the explanation of how Adam came to wear the collar', answering question in an interrogation scenario. It had been his first time involved in a bdsm experience. Though, casually, Manuel asking the first question, Deric smiled, knowing Brick had covered the territory. He dozed, thinking of the hotel desk clerk, standing over Adam, on his knees, bending over, Brick with a belt in his hand.
"Yeah, how did you get that chain locked around your neck, Adam?" Johnny asks the same question as Manuel.
Deric just nodded his head up and down, taking in the same, mundane explanation.
"What's up with that?" Drew glances from the roadway.
From the passenger side, Deric says, "Heard it all before, though I have to admit it kind of got my nuts throbbing, with Brick standing over Adam, strap in his hand, hard cock staring Adam in the face."
It bugged out Drew's eyes and it wasn't the dude in the convertible in front of him, top down, shirt off, "You've got to be kidding me...and Adam allowed this to happen to him?"
Deric had to confess, "Yeah, it was all new to me, until the scene got going."
"Scene?" Drew half-listened, partly attuned to the convertible which cut in front of him.
Not impervious to the driver, Deric answers off topic, "Too bad he's not in oncoming traffic!"
Sure, male, gay, his nads wanting more than the view of the driver's back, upper shoulders and bushy mane blowing in the breeze, Drew would have seen what the dude looked like from the front, but his interest divided, "What about Adam and this Brick guy?"
Recalling the facts, almost in perfect order as they happened, Deric tells of the hotel desk clerk, "Yeah, Brick took us to an empty room. Soon as the door was closed, he was like a Jekyll-Hyde syndrome or something, changing his attitude. He wasn't the accommodating desk clerk, but more a...a `monster.'"
"Monster?" Drew replies.
Then they both utter, sighing from disappointment, "O-o-o-oh," the convertible making a right turn.
It wasn't the only thing, Deric saying, "Lucky cop," when the convertible is tailed by sirens and flashing lights.
"Should've put his right turn signal on," Drew is observing.
On the other hand, Deric disputes, "Maybe he did it on purpose!" he laughs.
The little he gathered, about Deric, Brick and Adam, Drew says, "Adam probably would have been in heaven!"
"Yeah, wouldn't it be sweet," Deric pictured it, stopping Adam in his convertible, frisking him with his `stick'...
Having a little daydream of his own, Drew couldn't make up his mind whether wanting to be in the position of the blond, or the traffic officer, asks, "Uh, which one would be you?"
"Huh?" Deric asks, breaking out of his reverie.
"The cop or the motorist?"
Short laugh, Deric responds, "Like, you have to ask, Drew?"
Snort, like the laughter coming out of his nose in an exhale, Drew guesses, "Sorry, `officer'!"
Finding an angle to all this, the scene back at the hotel turning him on, Deric finds a little rise in it all, groping himself, "Man, would I really like making you feel sorry!"
Mixed reaction within himself, Drew says, "Could be interesting!"
Leaving Deric with a smile, though not convinced he could pull it off without Brick, "You think?"
Shrugging his shoulders, Drew replies, "I dunno."
"Great," Deric replies, though it wasn't about doing a little top-bottom, master-slave scene, "you just passed the hotel!"
Not until the last second, right after Deric, Alek leans between the seats, "You're going to have to make a u-turn, Drew."
"I know, I know," Drew replies.
"Oh. Okay, so you know you missed the turn," Alek made sure they were on the same page.
"I know, I know."
Sitting back, Alek says, "Okay. Just so you know, Drew."
Looking in the rearview, right into Alek's eyes, still making the connection, Drew scratches the back of his neck, middle finger not adding to the effort!
If a country lane, Drew would have chanced making a `u', but with a double line and tons of traffic, he went around the block.
Finally, reaching their destination, Deric rips the words right off the facing of the hotel:
"London...West...Hollywood...Hotel..."
"Wow, you can read," Drew smiles.
Bright smile, Deric replies, "Damn, I'd sure like to make you pay for that!"
Cocky, Drew says, "I might just give you the opportunity to collect!"
"Uh, Drew, can we pay attention, like now?" Alek calls to the front.
"Oh," is all Drew says, of overshooting the entrance. "No problemo!" he responds, putting the jeep in reverse.
"No! Hold it!" Adam yells out.
Keb, seeing it as it happens, "Daymn, you almost owed the dude behind us a new Korvette!"
More interested than the make of the car, Deric reports from his side mirror, "Oh my god, it's him!"
Bird's-eye view, Drew says, "Oh man, he definitely looks awesome-er from the front!"
"Told ya," Deric could only assume.
It was like a circus, Deric jumping out of the van, putting hands up to stop oncoming traffic. Expertly, a dude stops almost at Deric's kneecaps and for the duration of Drew's turn, they lock eyes, the driver removing his shades.
A honking of horns, some were to make the driver resume his driving. The others applauded Deric, upon leaning in the window of the BMW, giving the driver a `thank you' kiss!
Meanwhile, back at the hotel cul-de-sac, Drew and Deric's `convertible' man had stepped from the sports car, surrendering it to the valet. Before exiting, he pulls a tee shirt from somewhere within, dressing his hairy front.
Surprised, Drew had thought there was one valet, but another now tapped on his window, of which he responds, "Oh, hi!"
Both would rather it have been the shirtless-shirted dude behind them, but equally `lovely', Drew is feasting, "I suppose you want the car?"
Right on it, the valet replies, "Oh, so much more!"
Never being found out, without a long, drawn out conversation, Drew is amazed, "How did you know...about me...that I'm...you know?"
Even though he has the `gift' to know, the valet calls it, "Takes one to know one!"
Curious, Drew turns to see if Deric ever has been confronted with the same, but then remembers his co-pilot never got back in the seat.
Hands folded, leaning both arms on the door, the valet reveals the situation with insight, "Your friend, he's checking out Mr. Nefflette."
He couldn't see through the semi-smoky windows, requiring Drew to step out, "Excuse me?"
"No problem," the valet smiles. Thinking the driver might find an interest in his `Mr. Nefflette', the valet acts quickly, "I'm Steve, and I'll be your..." he wanted it to sound more than a guy who parked cars, "contact person, while you're staying at London West."
Throwing him off course, Drew, who by now has spotted, not Deric, but Alek talking to `Mr. Korvette-convertible', "Nice to meet you," he shakes Steve's hand.
"And you are?" Steve still connects.
Thoroughly grasping the situation, Alek still engaged, `Mr. KC' not even throwing Drew a glimpse in his direction, turns attention back to warm hands, "Um, Drew...Drew Wentworth."
"It's nice to meet you, Drew," Steve not only holds the hand, but shakes it.
Mind off of the barechested, now-shirted convertible dude, Drew pays more attention, "Are you staying at the hotel?"
`Oh man', Steve wasn't sure he knew what he was getting into, "Um, I work here. Remember?"
"Oh right, I knew that," Drew says, hoping to erase the temporary mental gap, "you're the valet."
It wouldn't be the first time Steve was passed up for a younger guy, "Good memory."
Memory, Drew hoped he recalled rightly, "Sam, right?"
"Steve."
Canceling out his inadequacy towards remembering, Drew says, "Right. That was my next guess."
Not wanting to disconnect, miss any opportunity of losing a guy he just fell into sync with, upon gazing in the driver's window moments ago, Steve stays warmly, "Oh, so we're playing guessing games. My turn to guess?"
"Huh?" Drew didn't know where this was going, but liked the charm, "Okay. Shoot!"
The jeep had emptied out, leaving Drew standing there with Steve, about to spring his next challenge, "Hmm, you're single and looking?"
Not which it was on his mind right now, it's not that Drew hadn't ever thought about it, "Right on it there, Sam."
"Steve," Steve is tolerant!
"Steve! Right. Um, where were we?"
Rather than dwell on the question, Steve has his own answer, "You were about to join me in the lounge for a cup of coffee."
"I was?" Drew is flustered, everything moving way too fast. Though, not sharing different feelings all together, "Sounds cool, but aren't you on duty?"
Inner motives, Steve says, "Not when Mr. Nefflette requests my presence!"
A mystery right now, Drew wanted to get to the bottom of it, since he was starting to like Steve, "Uh, you and this Mr. Netflex, you aren't in a relationship or anything like that?"
Crossing arms in front of himself, like being inpatient, Steve sums it up, "Do you think I would have come on to you, if I had a boyfriend already?"
"Um," short thinking, Drew replies and basing it on other dudes whom have made promises and never kept them, "just making sure, that's all. No offense, but I'm tired of getting burned, if you know what I mean?"
Not oblivious to Drew's feelings, Steve replies, "Can't say I haven't been there myself and realistically, I'm surprised at myself, that I've come onto you like this."
Reading the situation all so rightly, Drew tells, "Oh, so you're coming onto me, to see if I'm interested, but it is for a one night stand, or..."
"One night stand? We've not even approached sundown yet!"
It started to get corny, Drew thinking he better quit while he was ahead, "Sorry. It's not you, it's me. Just my inadequacies as a person seeking, but not knowing how to pick up the pieces and move on."
Regardless of whatever has passed between them, at 31-year old, Steve wasn't getting any younger and rather than stand around aging, "So, how about that cup of coffee?"
Still unsure, Drew was feeling comfortable about his decision in his mind, before making it public, "Sure. Cool."
It was a start to something. For Drew, he wasn't sure if, by bedtime, he was going to still feel contented with spending time with Steve. If not, he was sure the cross-country journey would provide time for thinking, even nothing became of him and the valet.
Meanwhile, in the process of checking in, Alek at the forefront, the gang had to steer Keb away from no less than 3 bellhops, wanting to make their immediate acquaintances, Johnny saying truthfully, not meaning it as a joke, "Geesh, Keb, will you put a stop on your hormones?"
Friendly-like, Keb replies, "If you don't mind your own business, Johnny, I'll put a stop on yours!"
Ganging up on Keb, Slim leads the pack, "Be nice to Johnny. Besides Keb, he's bigger and I'm sure can do damage!"
Bold, nice, then sweet, Keb mellows out, "You know I was only joking, sweetheart," he cuddles Johnny in the pit of his arm.
"I know," Johnny brushes Keb off, cuddling up to Slim.
Back in his arms again, Slim tells Keb, "You're forgiven. Now get up off your knees!" he smiles.
Keb wasn't on his knees, but liked Slim's manner of offering forgiveness. `Johnny' is where Keb drew the line. Like an uncontrollable lust, Keb had wished he were on his knees before Johnny. Though, as for Slim, would be cool doing pushups over his ass!
"Keb, you with us?"
Looking all around, Keb realizes he's fallen into a dream state, the gang standing at the check in counter, "You betcha!" he runs to them. "Oh sorry," he's not, running flank, chest into Slim's back.
"No you're not!" Slim did not really mind, feeling, no part in particular, of Keb's crotch, slapped up against his pants.
Keb is not the type of guy a dude would want to pick a fight with. Johnny showing no fear, the way it looked to him, Keb moving in on his territory, walks over to the dark-skinned beauty, placing a hand between, "Hey, you're too close."
Not sure about it, Keb could swear the back of Johnny's hand swiped by his crotch, but not wanting to emphasize, casts thought onto Johnny, "Sorry there. I didn't know you two had something...going?"
Neither did anyone else, not even Slim, "Do we?"
Frustrated once more, without experience the others seemed to possess, Johnny didn't know what exactly constituted friendship vs. having an affair vs. being termed boyfriends or more, "I dunno."
Slim knew something was up with Johnny cutting in between himself and Keb. He had feelings for Johnny too, though could not distinguish between friends and more than friends, "Oh, okay. I'll go with that," he smiles.
Keb could not dispute, Johnny the only hottie among the crowd, though he wasn't out to get in each one of their pants. Definitely, whether his real intentions had been more, Slim was a good looking dude.
"Ready, guys?"
Only one paying attention to check-in, Alek forking over his credit card, "I should pay for me, at least, no?" Arne had his wallet out, ready to dig into the plastic card reserve.
"You're unemployed, remember Arne?"
"Oh, right. It slipped my mind."
Alek could tell it was foggy for Arne, losing focus on the conversation in the jeep, wanting to slip something deep in, "Did it now?" he disguised what he really was thinking.
"But not for long, if what you said was true?"
"What'd I say?" Alek honestly forgot.
"About Jersey, having all those car dealerships, waiting for a young, handsome, debonair, grade A salesman to set foot on their lot?" Arne shines his nails, after adding some hot air to the fingertips!
Smiling, Alek hoped it the case, yet without a doubt, if they were hiring solely on good looks, Arne could get his foot in the door, "I'm sure you will find your way in."
Smiling back, like there was some hidden motive, Arne says, "So, are you flying us first class, since I am `unemployed'?"
"Flying? Arne, did you forget already you sold me a yellow Jeep?"
"Oh right. I forgot about that!" Then, pondering for a second, Arne does his little nervous gesture, spider-walking fingers up one palm, from wrist to the tips, changing hands, "Well, what you `could' do is send me on ahead, get things straightened out, you know, place to stay, jump situation, etcetera, etcetera, and after you get across the country...well, I'll have everything all set for us."
"Great plan, Arne, but I figured since none of us really have to be anywhere at any given time, it would be cool if we made this into a road trip."
Alek let it ride, Arne, like right on cue, "And who's going to foot the bill for our little `road trip?'
Quickly surveying, taking head count, Alek responds, "I think it might be kind of good having someone `older' along with us. Besides," he never put his credit card farther than a front pocket of his pants, "with this, we have nothing to worry about."
"May I?" the clerk smiles, pointing to Alek's credit card, lodged in the tips of his fingers.
"Of course."
Then, right next to him, Alek turns his head when hearing, "Got something in a suite for me, tonight?"
While running Alek's card, the clerk states, "Not without the proper attire?"
More recognizable, Arne could figure, without a shirt, "Hey, aren't you the guy in the convertible?"
Whipping a shirt out of the top of his backpack, the guy realizes he would not be able to put it on, with the pack on his back, removes it, "Was," he answers with slight attitude, "only, I no longer drive a convertible."
What had happened, the cop who pulled him over, happened to be his uncle. Real reason for putting on the flashers, siren and corralling the motorist at the side of the road, was directions from the precinct captain, to `get the convertible back, but not press charges.' On the side, the driver's uncle, whom wore the badge, thanked him for tickets to see The Foot Doctors this weekend.
On the inside, Arne was disappointed, the tee shirt going on over the head, arms fed into it, being smoothed down over the hot, hairy front, "What happened to your ride?"
If Alek didn't need to pay attention to his card being handled, the clerk writing stuff down, finding keys and other prep, he might have turned around to face the dude.
No fear, Arne swipes right past Alek, "But you were, not more than ten minutes ago?"
"It's complicated," the dude says.
"Oh really?" Arne didn't want to let go. "I happen to be a very bright guy and if you care to share, I might be able to follow whatever story it is..."
Alek does finally butt in, "Maybe he wants his privacy, Arne!"
Regardless, perhaps it was Alek, not wanting Arne getting `ahead' of him?
Seeing an `in' for himself, the dude says, "No, I don't mind, but I'm kind of in a hurry." Placing a credit card on the ledge of the check-in desk, "Do you or do you not have a room for me?"
Losing interest, Arne walks away, over to where Slim is standing.
In the middle of processing Alek's room, the clerk brashly says, "I told you, you'll have to wait your turn!"
He didn't even look up, so did not see Alek talking to the dude, "I'm sure he'll be done in a sec. So," reasoning why the dude is checking in, "you're not from around here?"
Many skeletons in his closet, it was accompanied by an arrogant, "I...I can't explain right now, sorry..." then, badgering the clerk, "can you hurry it up?"
Writing with a pen, it became a projectile, the clerk throwing it down on the desk, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave if you can't contain yourself?"
Ready to pick up his gear and leave, the dude is approached by a cop.
Putting on a bright smile, the hotel clerk says, "I was just about ready to call you guys," meaning the cops.
Before he could say more, one of the officers says, "What seems to be the problem?"
They were used to it, the cop and innocent bystander, in cahoots, but not letting on to anyone they knew each other.
The hotel clerk didn't want to cause commotion, simply saying, "We're having a problem here with this young man and..."
Standing up for himself, something Mark taught him, Alek butts in, "Problem? I don't see any problem. Like me, all he wants is a room!"
The cop and the kid look at each other, not sure what to say, the clerk just as much surprised by Alek's intervention, "For your own safety sir," he addresses Alek, "I think you had better move to the side?"
"Side of what?" Alek gave the clerk a tough time.
Losing a grip on his authority, the clerk turns back to the situation at hand, "Officer, I think you should escort this hooligan out of the hotel and..."
Not able to hold up their disguise, the officer says, "Really, Jef, you being a hooligan?"
It was then, Alek and the clerk exchanging looks, "No, Uncle Eric, I swear...I'm not!"
For certain, Alek caught the name of the cute boy, Jeff', but also thought the uncle kind of handsome', "You guys know each other?"
Joining in, the hotel clerk apparently forgets where he's at, "I suggest you do your duty, officer!"
Turning right back around, like the hotel clerk has `culprit' written on his forehead, Uncle Eric tells him, "Are you talking to me?"
Looking around the lobby, not terribly busy at the moment, the clerk says, "I'm sorry officer, I..."
Stepping forward, the cop says, "It sure sounded like it to me," taking the advantage to eye Alek up and down.
All Jeff could do is tilt his sunglasses forward, to capture an unshielded view of Alek, "Same here, uncle!"
Fitting the situation with something said or done, `Mark again', Alek theorizes, "Let me guess...you two aren't really nephew and uncle, you're not really a cop and this is a con to get me alone in room and..."
Eric, the cop, older, right now wiser, bursts out laughing, saying to his nephew-for-real, "Looks like we've done it again, laddie!"
Not being able to deny, even if this was a nephew-uncle premise, basing their actions on a carefully worked script, Alek could not put his feelings to rest, already envisioning the cop out of uniform.
Two steps forward brings him within whispering distance, "Nice badge," Alek fondles the tin bar with Eric's name on it, identifies the police officer, "Officer uh, Nef-flettie', or is it French, Nef-flay'?"
Without flinching a muscle, Eric allows Alek to man-handle, or handle-the-man, whichever be the case, since being versatile, could bare his ass, or massage throat, depending on how the juices flowed, "American actually. Try `Neff-let'?"
They weren't a scam-team, just regular relatives, like any other nephew-uncle relationship, though half the time did not act like it, Jeff saying, "Uh," taps Alek on the shoulder, "pardon me, but if you don't have a room yet, we'd be happy to share?"
While Alek carried on with business at the desk, his following took to the sofas, mingled with the tall, long and short palms, characteristic of a Cali setting.
Aronold, having given up on gaining Slim's attention, turned to inquiring about the chain and lock around Adam's neck.
Johnny sat on a sofa, Keb on one side of him, surprised to find Drew on the left flank.
For a few moments, Steve O'Hara, most likely the longest employee working for the London West' Hotel chain, Hollywood location his base, peering across the lobby, was thinking perhaps Boston' too far a location to settle down. Up for promotion, he had a choice of staying put, or opening the new `London East'. Keeping tabs on guests, he's already caught the dirt on how the newly-formed clan,heading out east, New York-metro area.
Steve lost his concentration, thinking `how lonely' Drew looked on that sofa, obviously not keeping up with the competition. Too bad duty did come before coffee.
It would not be the first time the 31-year old senior hotel manager found out about a guest in a jiffy, that is, if a male guest appealed to him. >From the talkative one, Slim-the-cab-driver, Steve has already found out the dirt on Drew, name, former position at The Hacienda, getting fired, picking up on the next phase of life, wherever it would take him. Steve found out, for now, Drew's destiny was following this ragtag bunch across the country. Well, since he was headed there himself, why not pick up some extra baggage?
"Hi there," Steve sits with `a bang', bod dropping into the cushy sofa.
Startled out of his gourd, Drew turns his head to the left, subtly says, "Hi, Steve. What's up?"
"This seat wasn't taken, was it?" Steve asks, knowing it wasn't, since he was casing the perimeter for the past ten minutes!
Looking down, like Drew would be seeing the contortions of the cushion, instead Steve's lap, "Uh," he gazes up, "no. Not at all." `Damn, I hope this dude doesn't think I was looking at...'
In all honesty, to himself, Steve was thinking just that, "Hmm, you and Drew, friends?"
Jaw dropping, eyes opening wide, Drew exclaims, "Oh my god, I can't believe you're asking Johnny that!"
Having stood there for ten minutes, Steve more than guessed there was a reason why Drew's hand was on Johnny's thigh, half leaning over the shoulder, speaking like defending his honor, "I know," Steve could be quite the cocky fellow, "a guy comes and sits down, immediately thinking a man is like himself and throws out a pickup line, like he's so...assuming?"
Never wrong, Steve figures there is always a first time, though with a 100% average, of which he was mighty proud...
"Uh," Drew, who can't deny Steve is hot, but fights for honor and friendship, "maybe he is and maybe he's not."
Johnny whom could answer for himself, "I'm gay."
Keb, protective, reaches an arm over two crotches, "I'm Johnny's friend," said like they were closer!
Flashback to The Hacienda, it's the question guys whom had their car parked, often caught Drew in a bind. Some guests at the trendy Mexican restaurant, who had their cars valet-parked, made excuse, leaving something of importance in their car. First time, Drew `knew'. It caused a gap in Drew's servicing other customers, having to escort the guest to the car in question, only to be coerced into the back seat of the vehicle, a secret affair ending in a big tip!
Second time parking the same car for the same individual, Drew knew to park the vehicle in a more secluded area of the lot. At times a guest arrived in a limo. Drew knew, limo drivers, whom had an interest in sex, needed something to kill time.
With introductions out of the way, Drew stands, which also brings Steve's butt up from the arm of the sofa.
Total confidence in Steve, "I'm top, without negotiation."
"Oh really? Tell me," Steve slaps a hand over Drew's 5 digits, "has anyone scored, trying to topple you off your throne?"
Drew smiled, picturing guys who have tried to switch, in words and actions, toppling him from their backsides, "Try it and you'll find out!"
Thinking of it always, Drew thinks he's getting the brushoff, "The possibilities...the possibilities..." Steve smiles.
"Oh, thanks," Drew says, like a cliffhanger.
Innocently, Steve asks, "What'd I do?"
When he smiled, Drew's cropped beard and outline of dark hair around his mouth added to the sly look, "Nothing...yet?"
Not which he was shying away from a naked-to-naked encounter, Steve says, "I hear you and your gang-bang buddies are headed out east?"
"You're assuming a lot here, Steve?"
Steve didn't so, "Am I?"
Well-knowing the facts, him and the guys he met today, with the exception of Miguel, in the same skiff, Drew replies, "Yeah, we're headed to New Jersey," he swiftly remembers what Alek said, like laying down the law, "I mean, `Jersey'...yeah, we're headed that way."
With a curve to his future planning, Steve renders, "Headed out east myself!"
Like it was supposed to mean something, to Drew it did, "And that's supposed to mean?"
"Maybe we'll be on the same flight!" Steve has it in the bag.
"We're carpooling."
"Oh," Steve's mental aspect of having to go to the plane's mens room at the same time, takes a dive, "is that your plan?" his engine stalls out.
Feeling his balls pull up with anxiety, Drew jumps the gun, "Plane it...and miss all that beautiful scenery?"
Not being able to dispute the fact, like Drew's face reminded him of a husky he had as a pet when growing up, black head of hair, the outline of his beard, bright blue eyes, "Damn, you're right! I never thought of it like that!"
Smiling, it again drew Drew's smile up into a clown-like shape, though not at all that humorous, more handsome, he toys, "We still could be sharing that seat, though not on a plane?"
He knew he had to be in Boston on Friday, but like Steve also knew, years of dedicated experience with the now-forming chain of hotels, tight with the owner, Michael London, in more ways than a valued employee, he goes on words of wisdom, passed down from the generation before, "My pappy used to say, If you see an opportunity, try it on for size...if it fits," Steve has reworded wear', "jump on it!"
"No problem here," Drew means, jumping on it!
Not arguing the issue, of whom the `jumpee' would or would not be, "I'll take that as a challenge."
"Does that mean..." Drew wasn't sure if Steve were serious or like guys would say and not follow through.
"I saw the jeep you arrived in. You might feel more comfortable in my Jaguar?"
"On a hotel manager's salary?"
"Employee recognition for 25 years of service," Steve smiles.
Figuring Steve around 30-years old, Drew does the math, "You started your hotel career when you were five years old?"
Stepping closer, Steve runs the back of his right index finger down Drew's tee shirt, pec to the obstruction of his belt, "Might be a good topic of discussion for the next 3,000 miles?"
"There you go again, assuming?"
Smiling, without all that face-fuzz, Steve still had a killer way of conviction, "I'm big at assumptions, as you already know!"
Having made up his mind 10 minutes ago, Drew sums up, "I guess we'll find out if we're compatible for the journey, tonight?"
"Got a room all picked out!" Steve smiles, like he could have had rent-free house-sharing in Bel Air, but turned it down, simply for the pleasures of being a dedicated hotel manager.
"Great," Drew says, "when do I move in?"
"Now, soon enough?"
"Cool. Let me get my gear."
Turning around, bending with his butt towards Steve, Drew picks up a backpack next to the sofa, partially hidden by a huge planter.
`Hmm,' Steve admires.
Hefting a strap over his left shoulder, Drew says, "Got my whole life right in here."
Knowing all about the lifestyle, helping out as many drifters he has been able to, using prudence, giving them a free room, Steve questions, "That's it?"
Some of the time a guy wished keeping his past in the past, but others were provoked into opening up when presented with a simple phrase of interrogation, Drew telling, "I'm sure I'll get tired of hearing your sad-luck story, sitting next to you in your Jaguar?"
"Oh right," Steve replies, mind on only `his' room at the hotel and not what was going to happen afterwards. As with vague emotions, there was something different about this hotel guest which rubbed him the right way.
"Excuse me," Slim nudges behind Drew's back, finding an opening for which he sits down next to Johnny. Muttering, "I feel like such a loner all of a sudden!"
Keb had been talking about what led him out to the Hollywood area, going on his good looks, after a failed attempt at pro-football, knee injury impacting a promising career.
Interrupted in the middle of his telling, Johnny is sympathetic to Slim's glum attitude, "What's the matter, Slim?"
"Easy come, easy go," Slim makes the best of the situation.
"What are you talking about?" Johnny looks up at the small band of guys whom they seemed to pick up along life's highway.
"You make friends, you lose them. That's life, I guess!"
"What?" Johnny gazes up, eyes affixed to one dude in particular, Deric.
Assuming the worst possible situation, Johnny springs up out of the sofa, separating from Keb, arm latched around his in a pretzel knot, takes giant steps towards the circle of dudes, "Deric!"
"What?" Deric turns around, a face on him like he's already guilty before accusations are thrown in his direction.
"You're not going to leave me, are you?"
He was getting around to it, only Slim had sprung the news on Johnny first, "Yeah, listen, I..."
Meek, mild, when Johnny was in a hype, he could sling the mud just as much as any other person, "If you're staying, I am too!"
Keb stood there behind Johnny, wanting to cast a ballot of hope for his own sake, but what he wanted was not forcing another guy to bend his way, but gave out some quick advice, "Stand up for yourself, Johnny," he whispers.
It didn't take much for a person to sway Johnny, having a sense now that someone was acting on his own behalf. He had been there, trusted people who were only out for themselves, or out to become a control freak, especially when it came to being `gay' or friends and relations trying to erase sexual preferences from his life.
On the road, some of what Deric was, had rubbed off on Johnny. Taking Johnny under his wings, it was part of Deric's responsibility, so he thought, to nurture as well as protect. More the athlete and not the desk-jockey, Deric could think up some complicated lacrosse strategy, but when it came to English or putting word together to form thought, he wasn't too bright, "No. You've got to follow a dream. It's like, destiny."
Working their way from the midwest, to Cali, they both had dreams, Johnny saying, "You're going into acting?"
His eyes weren't focused on Miguel or the others, just Deric, "I am," he didn't reveal just yet, meeting a movie director, right there in the hotel lobby.
None of them were cluing anyone in on their acting ambitions. Deric in particular, did not want to upset Johnny, pending his contract to a porn studio.
Because Johnny was visibly upset, Keb sees where Deric and the others are headed. The wool is not pulled over his eyes, steps in, "Johnny doesn't want what you want."
"Keb?" Johnny says meekly over the he-mean's shoulder.
Slim, taking on fares of all kinds in his taxiing career, could tell where Keb was going with this, takes one of Johnny's hands, even though standing behind, "He's right."
Thinking there's more to all this than his brain can process, Johnny says, "He is?"
Seeing the best way to work this out, is to take it in private, Keb singles out Deric from the group. Going back to the sofa, cushions still warm, Keb says, "There," he places a hand to Johnny's shoulder, "you sit here."
Deric sits next to him.
"Slim and me, we'll wait over here."
Wise man in such situations, Slim says to Keb as they step away, "I have a feeling this is not going to take long."
Life doesn't always turn out the way we all expect, but Keb, rooting out for Johnny more so, calls it, "Deric, he's such a scumbag!"
"Yeah, I know," Slim has gathered the same opinion of Deric.
Though, for Johnny, Deric was still his savior.
Gazing on from a distance, Keb and Slim could perceive the situation as if in their presence.
"Here comes `the dump'," Slim says, Deric slowly making his way off the sofa.
They are surprised though, when Deric approaches them, "Hey, uh, mind if I take the number of your cell?"
Alternating from one to the other, Slim offers his.
"Uh, wait," Deric says with nervous stutter, like he's under the gun, "I've got to get a pen and paper."
While Deric goes to the desk, Slim busies himself with punching his cell phone.
"What's up, babe?" Keb gets into Slim's breathing space.
It made Slim momentarily forget about Johnny, smiling. Then, thinking about Johnny, looks up, "Check it out."
From looking at Slim delete stuff from his phone, Keb sighs, "Oh shit," he does what's natural, walks over to the sofa.
Sitting there, Johnny leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, face in his hands.
"Wassamatter, baby?" Keb sits, places an arm around the 18-year old.
"Deric," Johnny doesn't look up, "he's leaving me."
Other than friends, Keb was under the impression they didn't have anything going for them, so didn't hesitate to hug `closer', "Oh c'mon. You still got me," he briefly looks up, "and Slim?"
It's then Keb found out it was worse than it was, feeling Johnny's tears.
When Deric got back, he copied down Slim's cell number, saying, "I'll call you when I get a cell of my own."
"Don't call me. Call Johnny."
For wanting to say what was really on him mind, Slim left things as is, offering his `reconditioned' cell to Johnny.
Approaching Johnny for the last time, which Deric thought would not be forever, he admitted an overwhelming feeling of hate evaporating from Keb, saying a simple, "I'll see you around, Johnny."
Grieving, Johnny says, "I hope so, Deric. Thanks...for everything."
He stood there for a minute, thinking of the long haul, Deric saying, to Keb, not Johnny, "Take care, man."
Swallowing what he really intended, rehearsed in silence, Keb backs down, swallows his pride, "Yeah. Take it easy, bro."
Johnny watched over Keb's shoulder, Deric walking away, until the guys he once knew as a caring brother, had entered an elevator, "I'm sure going to miss Deric."
"Well, you've got a friend in me until you meet someone else," Keb says.
Hugging him, Johnny says, "What's wrong with you?"
"Me?" Keb knew Johnny was getting the wrong impression right off.
Not meant to be a racist, Johnny says, "Don't you like white guys?"
It made Keb smile, thinking it's not the first time a guy of color has made the same remark, "Of course. My favorite kind!"
It cheered Johnny a tiny bit, Slim cutting in, "Here," he held out his cell phone.
"Huh?" Johnny looked at him with red eyes.
"My cell. I've deleted everything from it. Go ahead. Take it," Slim pushes it on Johnny.
"But what about your family? Don't they..."
"Don't have any. It's me and whomever I happen to meet along the way," Slim smiles.
Logic had come from not having any surviving family and the fares he picked up. Those of repeat business became Slim's `family', striking up conversations, finding out about others, others learning of his history.
Taking it, like a sticky candy bar, Johnny says, "You want me to have your phone?"
"If you want it," Slim knew it already a done deal.
Taking it from Johnny, Keb says, "I'll be the first person in your phone!"
Overwhelmed he wasn't alone in the world, Johnny surrenders his `new' phone, "Thanks Keb."
"Don't thank me. Thank the generous donor!"
Sitting, Slim got a big hug and kiss on the cheek, exclaiming, "Wow! I wish I had more to give!"
In the middle of entering his cell number, Keb stops to say, "I'm sure Johnny and me can think up something!"
Slim smirked.
Johnny, he acted puzzled.
Keb went back to entering the rest of his cell, a grin on his face.
Back at the desk, much detail was unraveled, regarding Jef Nefflette, his uncle, Eric. The time it took Alek to hear the short story of the nephew-uncle, he found the others had disappeared from his presence.
Drew had suddenly put off Steve O'Hara's offer to check out his pad at the hotel, even though he was in need and want himself.
Looking around, Alek's eyes connected with Drew, which in turn he was drawing conclusions about standing there with Steve.
Of the others, Aronold was seated on one of the cloned sofas, chatting with Adam. Johnny sat, with Keb and Slim at his sides.
Painting a picture of dismay, Alek walks towards them, "What's up with you, Johnny?"
Again, Keb mellows out in opinion, for Johnny's sake, "Deric. He's staying behind," nice about it, "to pursue an acting career."
"Yeah," Slim agrees, both patting Johnny with soothing hands on the back and shoulder.
"Well, he looks like he's in good hands!"
Coming from one of those to Alek's left, Keb asks, "And you are?"
Rushing in, the uncle half of the duo shakes hands, "I'm Eric Nefflette and this is my nephew, Jef."
Keb hadn't a clue, but Eric knew...about them being gay'. In his short history of current friends, Alek had summed up their trip, a bunch of gay dudes trying to find their places in the world.'
Something about that flashy smile on Eric's face, made Keb forget exactly where he was, "Yeah, likewise, bro."
Only because there was one other guy to greet, did Keb disengage, shake Jef's hand, "You too."
More on Jef's mind, he asks, "You two together?"
Johnny answers in a vague manner, "Who you talkin' about? Me and Slim?"
"Now I know one of you," Jef says.
"I'm Johnny," Johnny says, a bit nervous, "and this is Slim."
"Right," Jef replies, shaking Slim's hand.
Slim covers, "Johnny's just been through something rough."
It's not like he wasn't observing from a distance, especially when Alek had singled out his uncle in conversation, "Yeah," Jef says, "I thought something like that happened."
It was water under the bridge for Alek, already finding out Jef was a student with average grades, since he spent a lot of time working part time as a model and tried breaking into acting. Walking away, with Eric, they approach Aronold and Adam.
"What have you two been up to?" Alek asks.
Not meaning to blurt it out, about Adam, Aronold exclaims, "I hadn't a clue to what it felt like, being a slave," he stands.
"Slave?" Jef smiles.
"Oh," Aronold grieves, "I guess I shouldn't have said," looks at Adam, "anything?"
In his line of duty, as a police officer, at times working with detectives, Eric says, "Nothing new to me!"
Swallowing, Aronold goes all the way, "You have one?"
Laughing, saying, "No, no, no. In my line of work, it's not like an abnormal thing."
Adam is silent for the most part, entertained by Aronold, "You're one of these tough leather tops?"
Not, but playing along, Eric says, "Why? Need to hire me for a little kinky play?"
It made Adam's ears perk up, especially confronted with a man in uniform!
Aronold wasn't sure, "Maybe!"
Alek, wanting a nice hot shower, `food', says, "Can we get kinky later, guys?"
Eric replies, "Would be my pleasure!"
Suddenly, Adam felt like not the favored one.
Alek, picking up on it, puts on his best acting skills, "Sure would be nice to have a soothing back rub after a hot hour in the tub!"
"Really?" Adam perks up.
Holding a fistful of cards, Alek says, "Here's your key, Arne. Do me a favor and hand the others out to the rest." Looking around, counting up heads; Johnny, Keb, Slim, Jef, "Hey, where did they all go?"
Knowing all the dirt, having already been elected `father' to the group, Aronold spits out, "Headed for Hollywood. I'll explain later."
"Yeah," Alek stares at Aronold, "good idea."
"I second that," Adam says in a meek manner, though psychologically, waits a second out of habit, for the backlash!
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Copyright 2015 T. Chase McPhee
`ALeK iN wONdeRfULaNd', and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.