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The Schuyler Fortune VI: A Throuple of Bums-14
The first man turned, his face now shocked. "What...Jon...?"
"OK...time out, boys. Connor, this is my little brother, Freddie. Freddie, this is Connor Ruhl from the US. Yes, he and I are lovers."
Both faces relaxed a bit, but some tension remained. "How do you do?" Freddie and Connor shook hands cautiously.
"Jon, old man," said Freddie. "I didn't know you'd turned to the dark side. Jesus. For a second, I thought I'd have to fight an angry man, but had no idea it would be a jealous lover. Does this surprise include supper or entertainment otherwise?"
"Cancel that thought, Freddie. Our personal life is personal. Do I inquire about your amorous adventures with Milly?"
"Point taken, brother. That leaves supper with the jealous lover and you too, I suppose."
"You're not getting time with him in my absence, I'll tell you plain out."
Connor put up his hand. "It's been a long day and I'm hungry."
"Hungry for my brother or hungry for food?" Freddie had food on his mind.
Connor said, "I take the Fifth Amendment. Quite possibly both."
"That may work over there. We don't have a Fifth Amendment here, but I'll give you a pass. Fish and chips, mushy peas for starters? Gin?"
"Yes, please. Now, Freddie, please step aside for your afternoon entertainment."
Connor embraced Jon and kissed him with all the passion of a recently angry and still hungry man. Freddie watched, amazed, his cock twitching a little at the sight of his brother's package swelling and the tongues battling in front of his own eyes. He knew Connor didn't date anyone ever but had figured that the uphill battle to be a physician didn't allow time for love.
He hadn't expected his brother to have a boyfriend, least of all a male lover. He turned and gave them a little privacy while he looked out the windows of the suite toward the City.
Freddie's occupation was finance and banking there in the City. He wondered what this man did for a living and how he met Jon. What did either of them see in the other? What did anyone see in another? The thought of who did what in bed crossed his mind and was immediately dismissed as too much information to handle and certainly not his business.
He would be a little brother for life. He adored Jon, his only brother, both adopted at the same time. He had been told about the adoption at age twelve. His brother had been fourteen then. They hadn't looked for biological family. It wasn't a blazing issue for either.
"Are you coming with us, Freddie?" Either the clinch had ended, at least temporarily, and they were ready to find food or perhaps they were really...he forced his mind to think of King and England.
"Clarify 'coming'," Freddie demanded.
He didn't turn away from the window and asked if they were ready to leave for a restaurant. His own cock was erect by then. Just thinking about it made him hard.
Connor was a handsome guy and his own brother was doing that, with this guy?
He started to laugh quietly. His shoulders shook, and the tears flowed. Jon and Connor looked at him like he had lost his mind. Jon looked down and understood, colored up some and smiled.
Equilibrium restored, the three men piled into a taxi and found a wonderful place for fish and chips. And mushy peas. And the flask of gin in Jon's pocket. And quiet conversation which led to another surprise, a surprise none of them expected.
Connor told them he had just come from a board meeting of the Institute where he worked. He was vague still about the nature of the place and neither brother knew what it did.
He did mention that the Institute had a jet runway for which a private bill in Congress had approved a tower with personnel. He explained that much of the required runway lights and ILS transmitter installation was to begin soon.
Then he mentioned that there was a problem with the three outer markers. These three location beacons added to GPS systems by enabling the jets to know where the glide-slopes began which helped a lot in bad weather to safely land and which, of necessity, would have to be located on another's property. Getting permission was a dicey affair.
A widow, born in England and married to an American serviceman owned the property and had zero incentive at the moment to participate. He mentioned that her husband had recently died of lung cancer since a lung radiograph had been mis-read.
She was suing the hospital for not checking the doctor's credentials properly and the radiologist for not reporting a gross tumor but couldn't find an expert because the other docs had refused to testify.
Jon listened carefully. "Are you thinking that a nice radiologist from England might approach this widow and offer to testify?"
"No. That would be your idea since I haven't mentioned it."
"And my name is Napoleon Bonaparte."
"How do you do, Mr. Bonaparte." For some unknown reason that struck all of them near the 'funny bone', but they struggled to remain calm in the fish shop.
Freddie, thinking it was a long way below his dignity, struggled the most, and finally laughed the loudest, scaring a little old man at the next table who huffed his way over to the manager to complain.
They were nearly kicked out of the restaurant but managed to recover enough to stay and eat with sore ribs and tears running down their red faces, choking down recurrent giggles as their brains struggled to suppress their thoughts.
"Hmph..did the guy think we were disturbing his fish? As far as I could ascertain, the fish wasn't capable of being alarmed anymore!" Freddie added indignantly, causing a few more giggles to bubble into the already volatile atmosphere.
"The lady in question, a Mrs. James, was born in Cornwall and raised in Liverpool," Connor said.
That got their attention. "I didn't know any James family there, they said at the same time."
"That's her married name, did you say?" mused Jon.
"I think I could kill two birds with one stone. I haven't started here yet.
I want to see where you will live and if I slip next door and introduce myself as a Reds fan and a neighbor within blocks of King Kenny and include the fact that I'm about to start my private radiology practice on Harley Street in London, no harm done."
"If she happens to have the x-rays I could do her the courtesy of looking at them. No harm done. If an opinion, written or testified to at trial would be helpful, then..."
"No harm done," Freddie chorused with Jon. It was a favorite game of theirs, this 'finishing sentences together' game.
"I won't stand in your way," said Connor. "How soon..." They were immersed very quickly in the details of the trip. It turned out that the return flight worked for both brothers. "Let me call my boss and see if I'm free to tell you more."
Joseph was delighted and told Connor to use discretion but bring the brothers up to date.
Jon and Freddie were cool as cucumber sandwiches at tea on a hot day in the new Gulfstream, Blueberry, until the landing at Dulles where their eyes were glued on Washington D.C. and their foreheads pressed up against the glass. The Schuyler helicopter then flew them to the Campus quickly. Jack Sanders and the Campus Manager welcomed them.
Freddie and Jon were both housed with Connor in his two-bedroom suite and dinner that night completed their day. Almost. Jon told Connor that he, Connor, would need to pay for his trip and the price would astonish him.
Connor, a little slow at the end of a long day, took a minute.
"Yes. Is it a big price? Should I pay now or later? I don't have change in my pocket, but..."
"Just stop right there. That's it. We'll explore until we find those coins then you can pay the correct amount right this fucking minute."
"Speaking of that, I don't put out on first American dates."
"I'm not an American."
"Oh...got it."
"Not yet, you don't, but you'll get it in a minute; just hold on." Clothes were flying. "Connor, I thought I'd never see you..."
"It's OK honey, I'm here. Come, let me hold you. You're shaking, Jon... Are you crying?... Hey baby, it's all right, we'll get through this together. I missed you too, buddy. Here, here, it's OK. I love you too."
A handkerchief was passed over and tears erased.
Connor surprised himself. Where had he learned how to comfort someone...perhaps that was innate or something.
The next morning, they came out of the bedroom to find Freddie ready for breakfast, smirking a little.
"You guys find anything to do last night besides sleep?"
"What? Eavesdropping still, Freddie? You used to put your ear to the door when I was twelve to listen to me pound my pud and moan. I know this because the door knob wriggled. Door knobs don't wriggle by themselves, Freddie."
"My virgin eyes and ears!" said Freddie. "It's not easy being maligned so early in the morning. But the whole residence staff was out in the hall last night, deathly quiet, straining to hear so I had to listen with them."
"Come over here and I'll show you 'strain'," said Jon as Freddie skipped out the door ahead of them. "Forgive him, Connor, he's got a one-track mind."
"I like that about your family," replied Connor.
The next day after breakfast Jon went by himself to visit the lady next door. He rang the bell, noting the Liverpool FC decal on the window, and a little lady came to the door.
"Hello, how can I help you?" Jon began to speak, and the lady smiled. "You're British and if I'm not mistaken, from Liverpool. The accent is clear to me. I was raised there. Born in Cornwall but moved early enough to avoid that speech. I'm Olivia James, by the way."
"My name is Jon Smith. I'm a Reds fan and was a near neighbor of King Kenny."
She gasped. "I was right! Come in, come in. May I serve tea and biscuits? I've Earl Grey and some of that awful herbal tea my husband liked but it's getting old now. He died, you see, and wasn't drinking much of anything at the end. Her blue eyes de-focused for a moment.
"I don't have any family left now. My parents died long ago. Here's milk for the tea, dear." She went straight to the point. "What brings you here to my house?"
"I have ulterior motives ma'am. I heard there was an English lady living here and manners dictated a neighborly visit."
"I hadn't heard I had a new neighbor," she frowned.
"I still live in England. I'm getting ready to begin a new private radiological practice on Harley Street in London."
"Well, that's high up there, that is."