*** !!WARNING!! *** Gay fiction about to begin!
If you're not old enough please come back when you are. If you're not allowed to see this wherever you're accessing it from don't! You should go now at a run-if not, it's your neck and don't say I didn't warn you to leave. And last but not least-if you are offended by the thought of homosexuality then you're in the wrong place. Please go back the way you came in or you will be offended.
Also, these characters come from my imagination. I know of no one like them in real life. Any one who sees himself or anyone they know should mark it down as a coincidence.
This is one of those longer chapters. There isn't any sex in it, but I hope you'll find it entertaining anyway.
Now that you've been properly warned the story continues.
Ian's brow knitted as he gave his former lover an icy glare.
Ian had fallen in love with Marcus' smoldering looks. Marcus had a swimmer's body that was as tall as Ian's with less muscle. His face had the classic features of a handsome man with its squared, lantern jaw. Marcus also possessed a strong, straight nose and deep-set eyes with heavy eyebrows. A set of full lips completed Marcus' face. Marcus' eyes were so dark that they seemed almost lifeless. They were also small and close together that to one who was not infatuated with Marcus he would have appeared scheming and untrustworthy.
Marcus apparently realized this and had knew how to blind people with his charm. Ian wondered once if Marcus he practiced softening the hard look in those black eyes in front of a mirror. That had to be how Ian had missed the one flaw in Marcus' appearance that should have warned him to stay away. Until his true nature had been revealed, Ian had missed that one feature that flawed Marcus' otherwise beautiful face.
Marcus tilted his head to one side and looked Jeremy over with those lifeless eyes. He was undoubtedly sizing up the young man. After a moment, Marcus nodded approvingly, "At least he's a cute one."
Ian took a deep breath, "What do you want?"
Marcus held his arms wide, "Who says I want anything-except maybe something to eat? Owen says he can't serve me. He says you told him not to."
Ian nodded, "That's right. Most employees who get fired for what you did have more sense than to go back to the place they stole from."
"But I'm not here as an employee." Countered Marcus taking another look at Jeremy. There was a look on his face like Marcus had seen the youth before. "I'm here as a customer."
Ian replied, "Have you ever noticed the little sign on the front door? The one that says, `we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone'."
"So you're refusing me service then." Marcus said. "Don't you have to have grounds for that?"
"Embezzlement is strong enough grounds to have you arrested." Ian said. "The fake books are still in a safe place. My accountant still thinks I should turn them over to the police."
"But you won't." Marcus smiled. "I know you too well. You loved me, and like the sentimental fool you are you'll let me go because of it."
"Don't make too much fun of that." Ian warned. "Because that sentimentality is the only thing that kept you out of jail."
"I knew it would." Marcus shrugged. "I know you."
"I suggest you take a look around." Ian snorted. "That sentimentality toward you is fading fast. I wouldn't push it if I were you."
Marcus laughed, "You're bluffing. You wouldn't do anything to me."
"Are you willing to bet several years in prison on that?" Ian smiled sweetly, but the anger burned in his eyes.
Marcus did not miss the anger. "You're no fun anymore."
"Thanks to you." Ian said smugly.
Marcus' eyes narrowed as he looked at Jeremy again.
Then he smiled, "Well, well, well, I thought he looked familiar. I've seen him in here before with several different men. You're not only taking up with a boy, but a hustler as well. Did you know that this kid sells his body for money, Ian?"
Ian laughed, "Yes, I know. This young man told me that already. At least he's honest about how he makes his money unlike some people I cold mention."
"Is that supposed to make me feel bad?" Marcus put his palm to his chest.
Ian shook his head, "No, not really. You would have to have a conscience before it could do that."
Marcus laughed, "You are so right. It's funny that I never knew how sharp your tongue could be before."
"You'd be surprised what I'm capable of." Ian said. He didn't say that they would both probably be surprised what Ian was capable of. "Now, get your sorry ass out of my restaurant, and don't ever come around either me or the restaurant again."
"I suppose a good recommendation is out of the question." Marcus said with a smirk on his face.
"You would suppose right." Ian replied matter-of-factly.
"Ah well," smiled Marcus. "So long, Ian."
Marcus turned to leave. Ian walked quickly to the door. Marcus was still walking away when Ian closed the door behind him.
"Good bye." Ian said calmly then put his hands against the doorframe and leaned against it. Ian had felt anger when he first saw Marcus, and there was still anger there. Another part of Ian still cared for Marcus, but he could not let his ex-lover see that. That was a weakness Marcus would know how to use.
Ian had changed enough that he knew how Marcus had played him before. Ian's anger and pain gave him the knowledge to see him for what he was and the strength not to let Marcus play him again.
"Who was that asshole?" Jeremy's voice sounded annoyed.
Ian smiled. Jeremy was right and he had just met Marcus for a few minutes. Why had Ian not been able to see that?
Ian turned, "That was my ex."
"He's a jerk." Jeremy noted.
"Now," Ian agreed. "But when I first knew him he was quite a charmer. He was probably after my money even then."
"Still is." Jeremy said.
Ian cocked his head, "How can you tell?"
Jeremy shrugged, "I've seen the type before. Almost ended up with one as a pimp. I guess he thought I could make him more money than his other guys, but one of them knew what was going on and gave me the four-one-one. I didn't hang around."
Ian had heard enough young people talking to know that four-one-one meant information. Jeremy actually had a brain under those curly locks of his. It was a point in his favor.
But it lead Ian to ask, "So how did you end up as a gigolo?"
Jeremy shrugged, "Mom and dad came home early and caught me in bed with my best friend. Dad freaked out and kicked me out."
Ian was stunned, "That's terrible."
Jeremy nodded, "Yeah, I was roaming the streets when that guy I told you about found me. He gave me a meal and was going to take me shopping for new clothes when one of his guys told me what he had planned for me. I knew the guy wasn't doing it out of kindness, so when I found out what he had in mind I got on a bus and ended up here in Miami."
"Yet, you eventually did it anyway." Ian observed. "What happened?"
"It was either that or starve." Jeremy shrugged. "At least this way, I only do it with the guys I want to. Who knows who I'd have ended up doing, or what they would have made me do if I'd ended up working for that other guy."
Ian's heart went out to Jeremy even more. Jeremy seemed smart enough to do anything he wanted to do and here he was selling himself just to survive. Ian made up his mind that he was going to help him somehow.
Ian's eyes focused on the open paint can that sat on the desk. He knew one way to help Jeremy right then.
"Well, we better get busy before that paint dries up." Ian nodded to the paint can.
Jeremy nodded thankful to do something other than talk about his own life.
Ian walked over to the desk and picked up a paintbrush. He held it out to Jeremy. Jeremy walked over and took it from Ian's hand.
"Are you any good at painting around the woodwork?" Ian asked as he picked up the can and poured some of it into a small plastic bucket.
Jeremy shrugged, "I can do a fair job."
Ian nodded, "Good, you want to start on one side of the room, and I'll start on the other."
"Sounds good to me." Jeremy agreed.
Ian smiled, "If we get done soon enough maybe you'd care to have dinner with me."
Jeremy sounded as surprised as he looked. "Are you really asking me out on a date?"
Ian nodded, "That's right. I am asking you to go to dinner with me. If we can agree we might even take in a movie."
If he had thought about it Jeremy would have said no, but before he thought his mouth opened and Jeremy said, "Okay."
Good God, Jeremy thought, I've just made a date-COOL!
Ian smiled, "Then let's get busy."
They had not been painting long when Ian asked, "What do you like to do when you're not being an escort?"
Jeremy shrugged, "Nothing really, I exercise to stay in shape. No one wants a fat `escort' as you put it."
"Exercise?" Ian said mildly surprised. "Surely you have something you do for fun."
Jeremy shook his head even though Ian could not see him, "Not anymore."
Ian had not missed the sadness in the young man's voice.
"What did you do before?" Ian asked.
"I liked to fix up bikes." Jeremy said. He stopped himself from adding that he had just started fixing one when his Dad had thrown him out.
"What did you do with them when you finished?" Ian asked.
"Ride them." Jeremy shrugged. "What else?"
"You're a cyclist, then?" Ian asked.
"Yeah, I guess I am." Jeremy said. "I hadn't really thought about it before."
"What did your folks think of that?" Ian asked politely.
"Mom didn't think much of it. She thought I should be reading and doing homework and stuff. Dad thought whatever kept me off the street. He'd bring home bikes from the people he worked with for me to fix." Jeremy shrugged.
"Mmm," Ian nodded. "My mother talked me in to piano lessons when I was nine. Dad wanted me to learn something useful like running the restaurant. I found I had Dad's knack for running the restaurant, but I really loved the piano. When my folks turned over the restaurant to me I found a way to do both."
"That's cool." Jeremy said. "Did you change the name when you took over?"
Ian shook his head, "No, Dad bought the place when I was a baby. He had always planned on turning it over to me I guess because he changed the name then."
"Do your folks know you're gay?" Jeremy asked.
"Yes," Ian replied dipping his brush in to the paint can. "I told them so Mom would quit trying to set me up with her friends' daughters."
"How'd they take it?" Jeremy asked.
"Mom cried, Dad cursed. We had some bad weeks there for awhile. They didn't tell anyone what was going on, and I figured it wouldn't be right to rub their faces in it. Eventually, things calmed down." Ian replied.
"Do the people who work for you know?" Jeremy asked.
Ian nodded, "Yes, but that's thanks to Marcus. I really missed the mark with him. I should've seen he was no good."
Jeremy dipped his own brush in to the plastic bucket, "I wouldn't blame yourself about that. He's one of those people who're very good at hiding what they really are."
"You could tell all that?" Ian asked looking over at the young man. The fact that Jeremy understood someone like Marcus impressed Ian.
Jeremy shrugged, "I've seen the type before, `course you gave me most of the clues. He smiles real nice, comes off as the friendliest guy you've ever met. You think he's the original Boy Scout. All the while, he's dissing you behind your back. It's such a shock when you finally see him for what he really is. I would bet he was so good at it you only found out by accident."
"That's right." Ian nodded. "My accountant came in one day when Marcus wasn't expecting him, so the real books weren't hidden. The accountant found both sets of books."
"Figures." Jeremy nodded.
They worked in silence after that. It took a couple of hours to put the first coat on and clean up any spills around the baseboards.
Ian looked over their work and nodded, "Looks good. You're better than a fair painter, Jeremy."
Jeremy blushed, "Thanks."
"I bet your Dad was one of those do-it-yourselfers, and you were always volunteered to help him." Ian said. "I'd also bet he's a perfectionist."
Jeremy nodded, "Yeah, he's definitely all that."
Ian nodded. "It shows in the side you did."
It was Jeremy's turn to be impressed by Ian.
"Why don't we take a break for lunch?" Ian suggested before Jeremy could say anything. "We can finish this afterward."
Jeremy nodded, "Okay."
"You want to grab something from the kitchen or go somewhere else?" Ian asked.
Jeremy shrugged, "We can eat something here."
"Okay." Ian said. "I'll go see what I can find. You want a soft drink or something to drink?"
"Yeah, I'll take a cola." Jeremy said. "Make it diet."
"Okay." Ian said. "Have a seat if you can avoid the paint, and I'll be right back."
Ian left the office and Jeremy went over and sat down on the sofa. The plastic rustled under him as his weight settled on to the couch. Jeremy sighed.
Ian was certainly not the same man he had been the night before.
Ian soon came back with a couple of covered dishes and two sodas on a large tray that he carried on his arm like he was a waiter. In the other hand he carried a folding chair. Ian leaned the chair against the desk and then sat the tray down on the plastic covered desk. He unfolded the chair and sat it there.
"Your seat, sir." He said to Jeremy.
Then Ian went around the desk and sat down in his own chair. Jeremy came over and sat down on the chair offered him.
"I hope you're not a vegetarian." Ian said as he lifted the covers off the two covered dishes. "You can have something else if you prefer."
Ian's was a fancy restaurant that made the meal of hot roast beef sandwiches and fruit salad look simple by comparison. Jeremy's stomach churned at the sight and smell coming from the food.
"This is fine." Jeremy said. "It looks great."
Ian smiled pleased that the food was acceptable. "You can have more if you want."
"I don't usually eat lunch." Jeremy said. "This should be plenty."
As he began to eat Jeremy noticed that Ian watched him for any sign that the food was bad, or that he needed something else. This was something Jeremy had always found when he came here with a client. The staff was always eager to please. Jeremy wondered it had anything to do with the fact that he was concerned with his own client's coming pleasure that made him appreciate such eagerness to please-real or imagined.
The meal was tasty which was no surprise to Jeremy. He had eaten the food prepared there on several of his `dates' and had never had complaints about the meals. He had come to expect nothing less from Ian's.
The meal went quickly and then they went back to work. There was still one more coat of paint to be put on the walls. The second coat went on fairly quickly and their work was done by mid-afternoon.
Jeremy was sorry the work was done. He had enjoyed the time he spent with Ian.
Ian was looking over their work and was obviously pleased by what he saw. He had a look of satisfaction that only comes from doing a job well.
"Thank you for helping me." Ian said looking at Jeremy. "I have to admit I didn't expect you to show up this morning."
Ian went over to the desk and pulled one corner of the plastic back. He opened the drawer and reached in. Ian came back with an envelope. He walked around and handed it to Jeremy.
"What's this?" Jeremy asked taking the envelope.
"I figured that the time it would take for us to paint this room would be a lot more than the cost of your meals last night. So I guessed what the difference would be and put it in here." Ian explained.
Inside Jeremy found two one hundred-dollar bills. He looked up at Ian.
"You don't have to do this." Jeremy protested.
Ian held up his hands, "Yes I do. It would have cost me more to have a painter come in and do this."
"But," Jeremy started to argue.
"No, buts." Ian cut him off. "You did a good job. You deserve it. And I won't take no for an answer."
Jeremy could see the determination in Ian's face. He sighed.
"Okay. Thank you."
"You're welcome," Ian smiled pleased with himself. "Now, what time would you like me to pick you up for our date?"
"You're serious?" Jeremy asked.
"What time?" was Ian's only reply.
"Seven?" Jeremy said.
"Good. I'll pick you up at seven." Ian said. "We're going someplace fairly casual, so something similar to what you wore last night will be just fine."
"Well, okay then." Jeremy gave in. "I'll see you at seven. Do you need the address?"
"No," Ian shook his head. "I wrote it down, remember?"
"Okay then." Jeremy said. "I'll see you at seven."