You know the drill: The 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, 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. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
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NOVEMBER knockout 01 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Weeks had flown by, complete with some monumental events in Jean-Claude's life.
Kevin, Emre and Tariq were all registered and set to go to college, but it would not be until the spring semester began. Too much time had elapsed and they would never catch up. Spring was good enough, Kevin and Tariq mentioning that by the time arrived, maybe they would be interested in some field of study. With the arrival of November, Jean-Claude told Emre his 'backyard' project at the agency should be put on hold. Also with the cool weather of November returning, it put Kevin out of work.
"I should have taken the job offer from Taylor Ridgestone's producer!" Kevin said at the dinner table.
Almost ready to answer, Emre beat Jean-Claude to it, "Then you find new boyfriend!"
Smiling at Emre, Kevin replies, "I'm glad I told him I'd think about it!"
"I hope you stop thinking about it," Emre replied.
Then Kevin brought up a name loathed by Jean-Claude, "Josh Dunzinger said if I ever needed a job I could give him a call?" He looked straight at Jean-Claude.
"You know what my answer to that is!" Jean-Claude replied as he rigorously cut into a piece of steak and then stuffed a cube in his mouth. The cutting up part he was thinking of Josh Dunzinger's balls!
Much had transpired in a month's time, Brendan going back to working this evening until the graveyard shift ended. Sebastien and Cody had gone to the beach, Garritt driving them, but at the end of the day Garritt dropped Cody off at Jean-Claude's and Sebastien never came home that night. Contrary to the picture Garritt painted of his uncle, a 'grump', Sebastien found him to a nice guy. Probably one of the reasons is allowing him to share Garritt's room and not charging additional monthly rent, which at times amounted to nothing since their business, renting bikes was a seasonal set up. Garrit's uncle wintering in Florida gave them the whole place to themselves. Also, Sebastien had moved into a position of secretarial work at the agency, Jean-Claude finding it a relief not to have to schedule his own clients. The others felt Sebastien an efficient asset.
The week after going to Sandy Hook, Cody dived back into his work the very next day. For now he's playing it solo and many a night he'll take in dinner with the 'rest of the family' at Jean-Claude's 'road house'. On some occasions Cheb will join them.
Around the table everyone is having a great, talkative evening. With the phone ringing, Jean-Claude excuses himself. He's gone about ten minutes and upon returning, several gazes wonder who it was on the phone.
"Brendan?" Kevin guesses.
"No, in fact this might be an 'in' for you Kevin and anyone else in search of employment. That was Aldo Barbagallo on the phone and..."
"Who?" Cody asks.
"You don't know him," Jean-Claude replies, scooting his chair under the table and depositing his napkin in his lap. "I stayed with Aldo while visiting Kevin in the hospital while in the city. Anyhow, he is moving his florist business to New Jersey and guess where?"
"Philadelphia?" Kevin asks.
They all look at Kevin.
"Philadelphia is 'not' in New Jersey, Kevin!" Jean-Claude tells him.
"I know!"
"Emre, sock him for me, will ya?"
With the order from Jean-Claude, Emre bumps Kevin in the bicep with his fist. Very lightly of course.
"Owch!" Kevin replies, pulling the sleeve of his tee shirt up and looking. "I think you bruised me!"
Right on, Jean-Claude goes, telling, "For your information, Aldo is opening his florist shop right here in town and is in the process of looking for two or three workers?"
Kevin says, "There you go Tariq!"
Jean-Claude, half-serious, says, "Don't you think you've done enough free-loading, Kevin?"
"I guess all good things must come to an end. Besides, these biceps," he flexes his right, "are starting to wilt, so I better find something else to keep them toned."
Something Kevin said disturbed Emre, him saying, "All good things?"
"All good things what?" Kevin reacts.
"Must come to end?"
"Well, not every good thing. I mean, some things were meant to last forever... I suppose."
It got him off the hook. Paying attention to Kevin and Emre giving each other a peck on the lips, they escaped seeing Cheb and Cody exchanging smiles after playing footsie under the table!
After dinner, Cody and Cheb offered to clean up. Kevin, Emre and Tariq went off to watch Tv. A loner, Jean-Claude surried off to the den and sat down at the computer. Ever since the Halloween party, he's been kind of down at night, with Brendan gone. A person can only digest so much of Facebook or You Tube, or Twittering their life away. Then he came to life, thinking of something left unfinished. Right away he turned on the monitor and looked through his bookmarks for the real estate websites he visited.
"Whew!" He stated when opening two bookmarks, the two properties still available he had chosen roughly two months ago, one a beachfront home, the other an empty lot further inland, right up the road in Colts Neck. Sitting back in his swivel chair, Jean-Claude closed his eyes and began dreaming about the empty lot, almost envisioning the home built on the site. A big, spread out nineteen acres, complete with a four mile lake. From the bottom up he sketched out in his mind the type of house he would want, something either mediterranean or neo-eclectic. Then he began to elaborate, picturing the inside. In his mind he pictured Kevin as a butler, Emre the chef, Tariq a poolboy and together, him and Brendan enjoying all the comforts of home. When he awoke, he thought of how could he ever think this would be a permanent residence. Sitting forwards, he switched from the lot to the beachfront home. He thought vocally, "Wait till Brendan eyes this up!" Then the
phone rang and it was him.
On the other end, Brendan was telling him he was on his way home, Jean-Claude wondering where the time went. After hanging up, Jean-Claude switched out of the browser. He smiled, seeing a picture of a guy he's had on his desktop seemingly forever. In a sloped position, there sat Simon Dexter with the most perfect of perfect faces. It made Jean-Claude smile. Clinging to his bod was the most perfect amount of bod hair. Then, a hint of what followed, below the belt, 'showing'. He switched off the monitor thinking of how his own 'Simon Dexter' was on his way home!
Long ago, Cody and Cheb had finished cleaning up the kitchen. Now it was time to cause a semi-wreck, fixing Brendan up a plate of leftovers. Not finding something he decided to go ask. Figuring the five of them were in the Tv room, he sought them out.
"Oh excuse me! I didn't know!" He said to Cody and Cheb, all cuddled up on the sofa.
"It's okay," Cody replied.
Cheb informed him, "Kevin said to tell you he, Tariq and Emre went out for an evening walk."
"Probably to Paradise!" Jean-Claude said ever-so-softly.
"Huh?" Cody asked, not hearing his reply.
"Never mind. Okay, but I was looking for... I recall seeing an open bottle of wine from dinner?"
"Here it is!" Cheb said, a toothy grin as he held up the empty bottle.
"I guess that answers 'that' question. Okay gentlemen, wish I could stay and enjoy the movie with you, but Brendan is on his way home." As he walked back to the kitchen he smiled, thinking of how Cody probably thought he was hiding his hand from view, from it being inside Cheb's zipper!
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Walking the seaside planks and in between the two, Kevin stopped short, his hands holding both Tariq and Emre back. "Do you see what I see guys?"
"It is Sebastien and his boyfriend from the bike shop," Emre replied.
"Right. Don't say anything," as he led the other two towards the boyfriends, sitting on a park bench facing the ocean.
Emre looked to his brother, him shaking his head back and forth, Tariq shrugging his shoulders and adding a smile. "He is going to get into trouble someday," Emre meant his joking around.
"I like Kevin," Tariq says.
"I like him 'more'," his brother replies.
"I hope I find a nice guy like you have," Tariq replied, perhaps with slight jealousy!
Getting there, right behind the bench, Kevin waited a second, then ran around it, lifted his tee shirt, stripped it off and at the same time yells out, "Free strip show guys!"
One problem though. It wasn't Kevin and Garritt!
"Oops," Kevin said, holding his tee shirt on one forearm, barechested to the two dudes.
"What did I tell you?" Emre says to Tariq.
But on the contrary, instead of getting in hot water, one of them, the blond, says, "How much to take the pants off?"
They both laughed.
Seeing he wasn't in deep trouble, Kevin replies, "Like how much are you willing to pay?"
The other dude with the blond, drops his head back and so happens to be looking right up at Tariq, though upside down. "Hello there!"
"Hi," Tariq replies. "You and your friend don't look very much like Sebastien or Garritt."
As Kevin and the blond begin chatting, Emre being drawn in, the other dude gets up, kneels on the bench and says, "Oh you look so much better upside right!"
"Thanks," Tariq was polite to return.
Monitoring Kevin and the blond, Emre also divided part of his attention with his 'little' bro.
"So, are you with anybody?" he asks Tariq.
He saw Emre look at him with a serious nature, so Tariq replies, "Yes. I'm with my girlfriend."
The dude wasn't buying it, saying right out, "You're not with your girlfriend. You don't even have a girlfriend. But what I would believe is you have a 'boyfriend'?"
Not lying to the dude, Tariq replies, "I don't have a boyfriend. Do you?" he nodded towards the other guy talking with Kevin.
"Who Mark? Nah. We're cousins."
"But you had your arm around him. He had his around you?" Tariq questions.
"Just brotherly love. Oh, by the way," he puts out his hand like doing a karate chop, "I'm Dario Marciano."
"Good to meet you Dario," Emre steps in front of Tariq. "I am Tariq's brother."
A little peeved at his brother, Tariq exercises the same move, cutting in front of Emre. "I am Tariq and this is my very protective brother, Emre!"
"I understand," Dario replies, keeping his hands on his 'side of the fence', bench rather, and replies more to Emre, "Just trying to friendly. That's all." And so as not to make waves, Dario calls, "Mark, I think we better get going?"
Mark breaks off his talking with Kevin and replies, "But we don't have anyplace to go Dario?"
"Mark?" Dario addresses his cousin, his face seemingly communicating something.
"Oh yeah! I forgot!" Mark jumps up off the bench, Kevin sliding his butt off the railing, "We were supposed to meet some friends at Paradise! Hey, we gotta go." And as if it wasn't enough, "We've really gotta go guys, but it was really nice talking with you Kevin." Rambling on, "And anytime you want to strip for me I'll more than gladly be your audience!"
"See ya!" Dario says, more gazing at Tariq.
With the two walking up the boardwalk, Emre immediately gets the heat, "Emre, why did you do that to me?"
"Because you are my brother and I need to protect you," Emre replies.
"From what? Dario was being friendly. What harm is it in being friendly?" Tariq argued.
Kevin butts in, "Tariq is right."
"When I want your opinion, I will ask for it Kevin!" Emre tore into him.
"Fine," Kevin accepts it, then sarcastically says as he firms his tee shirt down over his pecs and abs, "I'll just go and make myself invisible!" He turns around and heads towards one of the concessions.
Tariq wasn't finished, saying, "That was very rude of you to talk to Kevin like that, Emre."
As giving it to Kevin, Emre clones his phrase, "Kevin is my problem and I don't need your opinions, Tariq."
"Then you better go and solve your own problems before you take on others?"
"Look Tariq," Emre starts digging in.
"No. If I choose to make a friend, I will make a friend." Tariq thought about what he said briefly, thinking it didn't make too much sense as far as explanation goes, but figured he made an good observation about himself.
When Emre looked over to the concession, then turned back, Tariq wasn't in front of him, rather his back as he ran up the boardwalk. "Where are you going?"
"Paradise, to find my new friend!" Tariq yelled back, cupping his hands about his mouth to magnify the sound of his voice.
"We've go to go!" Emre says, pulling on Kevin's arm.
Ready to take a lick of his custard cone, the jerking of his arm caused the vanilla-chocolate swirl to dislodge from the sugar cone. Kevin tried 'catching' it, the custard squishing in his free hand, then dripping down his shirt and pants.
"Nice one!" The guy behind the counter replied to the mishap, placing a napkin dispenser in front of Kevin.
Totally oblivious to Kevin messed up, Emre says, "We've got to go find Tariq."
"Um, like did you happen to notice I've like got a little mess here?" Kevin replies.
"Maybe I go and you meet me at Paradise." He asked but didn't wait for an answer.
"No way!" Kevin took the upper hand, also Emre's arm in his, smooshing the cool mass over his hairy forearm.
"I've got to find Tariq!"
The fellow behind the counter, not very busy because of the cooler temps setting in, followed their conversation.
"Emre, how old is Tariq?"
"Eighteen."
"Legally he's an adult and from what I've seen, he's as mature as you are."
Wiping the counter down, the dude behind it says, "Your boyfriend is right!" He knew Kevin and Emre were boyfriends, because with not much patronage, it opened up Kevin and his time for conversation, before Emre showed up.
"Shut up!" Emre replies to the guy.
"Um, I think I better sweep the floor!"
"I can't believe you said that!" Kevin replies, napkin-ing his clothes. "What's wrong with you. This is 'not' like you Emre?"
"I don't want Tariq becoming like Gazi."
"Oh, so that's it?" Kevin says. "There's only one problem with it?"
"What?" Emre says, an angry disposition on his face.
"From what I've seen, Tariq is much more like you than Gazi. How could you ever think he would turn out to be like him? You've done a good job... I guess it would be 'raising' him?"
"And I want him to continue on the same path. I don't want him following in Gazi's footsteps, so I need to keep track of him."
"I think you need to cut him some slack... and don't give me any of that 'stay outta your face' shit." Kevin, welled up with anger suddenly, lashes out, "You know back there you made me feel like crap? I thought you and me were like more than friends. I thought we were developing some kind of nice relationship beyond the sex and all that stuff," he replied, not knowing if he was getting his point across.
Emre listened in silence. Even when Kevin finished, he was quiet.
"Hey, ya know?" the counter dude reappeared from squatting down, filling his dustpan, "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but it seems to me you can go check up on 'the brother' and not make him feel like your stalking him. Let him be what he wants to be and give him his freedom. I know it, because with my kids I've been there... done that. A teenager coming of age needs to explore on his own."
"Thanks, Gabriel and thanks for the cone," Kevin replied.
"I can give you another one on the house?"
"Nah, but thanks," Kevin replied. Leaving the open-faced custard stand, Kevin mentions, "That dude Gabriel, he's married, but he's gay. I don't get it."
But Emre's mind wasn't on gay-married guys. "I'm sorry I yelled at you Kevin. I think you are right. I need to let Tariq be more free. I will not be around to watch him when he is in college."
"Good point," Kevin frankly said.
In no time, their conversation came to an end as they stood at the door to the Paradise club. In line, Kevin mentions, "I don't see Tariq. I suppose he got in before the line began," he looks up to the front of the cue, about twenty guys long. Seeing Emre with the long face still, Kevin tries easing his mind, "And while we're here, you and I might as well have the good time we planned?" He embraced Emre with some space between them, then tilted his head up by placing his finger under Emre's chin. "It's gonna be alright, okay?"
"Okay," Emre replied, but was still harboring a down attitude. "Kevin?" he drew Kevin back a step when he stepped forwards.
"Yeah?"
"I would like to think we are more than boyfriends?"
"We are and I hope you will let me share with you more of my life and open yourself up to me whenever you are having a problem? Isn't it part of being... um, I guess we're a couple now, huh?"
"You mean more to me than saving my life," Emre recounts the experience of Kevin getting knifed on the subway instead of himself.
"Hey, anytime. What the hell... it was only a stab in the leg!"
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"That you Brendan?" Jean-Claude yelled from the kitchen.
"That's me," Brendan replied, setting foot in the doorway.
"What's the matter? You act like you went through the worst day of your life!" Jean-Claude assesses his lover's disposition.
"Could have been better, but I had two things going against me."
"Oh?" he says, putting his hands on Brendan's shoulders and massaging them.
"First was the early morning accident on the parkway..."
"Oh right. I read about it on the internet. Six cars was it?"
"Five ordinary people and one DUI. What a mess. Thank God nobody wound up with serious injuries. The vehicles took most of the brunt." Sitting down at the kitchen table, in front of the empty plate set for him, Brendan says without being asked, "The other thing is I missed you terribly."
Putting the spoon back in the pot he used to stir the sauce, Jean-Claude walked behind Brendan's chair, bent over and hugged him and the chair. "I missed you too. Your vacation time spoiled us."
"It did," Brendan didn't refute it. "I don't know what I'm going to do about it."
"Hurry up and eat. I have something I want to show you."
Not only disturbed, Brendan hadn't eaten much supper, at the regular time families eat supper in the evening, not after midnight. Over Brendan's meal they talked about Jean-Claude's busy day with the boys and their whereabouts.
"Want help with the dishes?" Brendan asked, as Jean-Claude waited on him.
"Nah. I'm leaving them soaking till tomorrow anyway."
With dinner over, Jean-Claude led Brendan into the study.
"I have something which might give you an uplifting."
"That'll do it," Brendan replied, seeing the desktop.
"Okay, how about a second uplifting?"
A bookmark brought them right to the browser opening.
"Nice beach house," Brendan said.
"It could be 'our' beach house?" Jean-Claude said as Brendan checked out the vitals.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Brendan says, studying the fine details. "The monthly mortgage? Twenty-nine thousand, eight hundred and eighty-eight dollars is a little beyond my budget?"
"Remember the fuss Emre put up over laying out his college tuition for him?"
"I know what you're driving at here, Jean-Claude, but I think this is a little different. Don't you think 'I' would like to share in 'our' investment?"
"Of course and that's why I think a certain portion of your salary could be invested each year and over a longer period of time things could pretty much even up," Jean-Claude rationalized. "What do you think?"
"Sounds alright, but in reality..."
"In reality," Jean-Claude says, sitting on Brendan's lap like an oversized baby, hands behind his lover's head, "we need to do this because it will become part of an investment in our future and if we wait somebody else will grab it up."
"I've got another reality check for you."
"What?" he questions Brendan.
"I think this chair was only made for one?"
Jean-Claude was totally flabberghasted when Brendan leaned forwards, took him up in his arms and deposited him on the study table. "Where did those muscles come from?"
"The police academy. Now, time for a little operation?" Brendan proceeded to lift Jean-Claude's tee shirt and park it behind his head. Lifting his arms towards the edge of the table, above his head, gave Brendan the hint it could be stripped.
"Oh my... now hold that pose!" Brendan said as Jean-Claude cradled his head in his palms.
"I haven't showered since this morning?"
"Mm-m, even more tastier!" Brendan replies, bending his head to take a lick of Jean-Claude's armpit.
But just as they get into it, the front door slams.
"Wouldn't you know it?" Jean-Claude says.
"To be continued," Brendan says, reaching down and picking up the tee shirt off the floor as Jean-Claude sits up on the edge of the table.
Looking down at his crotch, Brendan comments, "Um, how are you going to hide that?"
"In your ass?" Jean-Claude suggests, with a cocky smile.
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Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee
`'December Lullaby - NOVEMBER thankfulness ' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....