Date: Wed, 08 Apr 1998 19:40:37 PDT
From: Mike R <lil_boytoy@hotmail.com>
Subject: Greg Part One: The New York Chronicle

WARNING:  This is a story involves sex between men.  If stuff like that 
offends you please don't read.  Thank You.  

Greg 

by Michael

Part One: The New York Chronicle

Chapter 1

Greg watches as the mirror starts to fog from the steam that rises 
from the warm water running into the bath tub.  Because of the fog, 
he sees the reflection of the young male that he can no longer 
recognize look back at him with those same lost brown eyes.  He 
looks down at the box cutter in his hand.  He watches as the bright 
overhead light makes sparkles on the shiny reflective metal.  He 
places the razor-sharp blade near his wrist, and watches as the blade 
presses down.  He sighs and bites his lip as he feels the metal rake 
across his skin.  Greg looks down as the beads of blood start to 
form instantly, and quickly turn to a steady flow.  He switches the 
cutter to the wounded hand; grimacing as the pain shoots through 
him from gripping it.  He repeats the same actions on his left wrist, 
again grimacing as the blade travels across his wrist.  He drops the 
blade and looks to the now full bathtub; walks over to the tub and 
slides into the water.  He closes his eyes as the blackness begins to 
take over...

"Greg, Honey? You've been in there for awhile, you okay? Greg! Greg 
answer me dear!  Honey why aren't you answering me? Simon, come 
quick, Greg won't answer me." Patricia starts to bang on the door as her 
fears start to grow about her youngest son.  She can hear her husband 
begin to come down the hall.

"What is it dear?"

"It's Greg!" she cries as tears start to form in her eyes; "He won't answer 
me -- he's been in the bathroom all afternoon."

"Greg? Greg! Son, you better answer me and open this door." The man 
hollers out "SON" as he slams his husky 235 lb, 6 foot tall body against the 
flimsy door breaking the cheap lock, and bending the hinges.  His eyes 
widen as he sees a parent's worst nightmare.  He can see his youngest son 
lying limply in a tub of water stained pink.  "Patty, get an ambulance -- 
NOW!!"

"What is it Simon?  Let me see my baby!" starting to cry as she tries to 
look around her husband to see in the bathroom.

"Mother get out of here now and call 911!" screams the man as he tries to 
block his wife from seeing a mother's worst fear.  As she leaves the man 
goes to bathtub and picks up his son's limp body from the tub.  He can still 
see the blood steadily flowing from the child's wrist.  He can't control his 
emotions and by fatherly instinct just holds his son until his wife comes 
back in.

"They're on their -- Oh my God!  My baby! My baby! My baby!" The 
mother falls to the hard tile floor as she re-enters the bathroom seeing first 
the blood stains stand out against the hard white floor, then the tub filled 
with the pink water, and then her husband holding and rocking her son.   
She enters a catatonic state of shock from the pain and horror of losing her 
baby.

"Mr.  Jefferson.  Mr.  Jefferson, wake up."

"Hunh? Wha..?" Simon opens his eyes from his deep sleep.  His head aches 
from the bad dream he just had; he looks at the man shaking him awake, 
and realizes that it was no dream.  His son really did try to commit suicide, 
and he really is in waiting room at a local hospital while both his son and 
wife are in rooms behind the closed ER doors.

"I'm Dr. Staple; I'm the physician in charge of taking care of your son.  
Mr. Jefferson, we need to talk.  Your wife is fine.  We gave her a mild 
sedative, and advise that you both seek counseling.  You both have just had 
a life changing experience.  Now here is the hard part Mr.  Jefferson.  Your 
son was in that bathroom a long time before you two got to him.  He lost a 
great deal of blood, and was near death.  He is alive, but we don't know 
what mental changes that much blood loss had on him.   We have him 
under constant monitoring, but he will need more help than a hospital can 
provide.  I know this sounds horrible, but there is a new therapy for 
troubled teens and suicide prone teens.  It's very controversial, but the 
results are amazing.  This new therapy requires the child to have complete 
separation from the family for a great length of time at a year-round camp 
where they receive counseling on a one-on-one basis.  The parents can 
check on the child at any time, but they cannot have contact with him.  I 
know this is a lot to think about now, but time is a very important factor 
here.  I suggest you discuss this with your wife and then make a decision 
within the next two weeks."

Mr.  Jefferson sits there and listens to the doctor as he talks and wonders 
how this happened.  What could cause his son to want to kill himself?  Was 
it the way he was raised?  Was it something we did? What? What could 
cause their baby to want to kill himself?

The cold light floods his face, and pushes the darkness away.  He winces as 
his eyes grow accustomed to the daylight; he tries to put his hand over his 
eyes, but quickly realizes that he can't move his hands.  He looks startled, 
and tries to struggle against the straps that have his arms and legs pinned to 
the bed.  He screams out to be let go as the fear of being in an unfamiliar 
place engulfs him.
"HEY OVER THERE, SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"  hollers a groggy girl 
from across the room.  "Look you're on the suicide floor, kid; they do that 
to you so you can't get a hold of any shit."

"Hunh?  What?" asks Greg in his still frightened state.

"Look, you tried to kill yourself.  That's what those bandages or for, and 
since you used some kind of blade to do it they are stopping you from 
getting hold of something to finish the job.

"Where am I, anyway?"

"You're here in the suicide watch ward at the hospital, but from what they 
said you won't be here much longer.  You're supposed to be going to 
some camp--"

"That's enough, Ms. Green", a deep husky voice stopped her mid sentence.  

A large man with a short, blond, almost buzz cut haircut enters.  

"I'm Dr.  Parker.  I'm here to release you from those restraints; they must 
be a pain." 

The doctor kneels next to bed as the teenager watches him unfasten the 
straps that bind his hands.  The teen's eyes trace the young doctor's face 
and lean body guessing him to be in his early 30's, or late 20's.  He 
watches as the man's warm green eyes look at him and smile.  The teen just 
stares at him without any emotion on his face.  He wonders if he can make 
it to door before the doctor gets hold of him.

"By the way Greg, in case you're thinking of making a run for it, don't!  
Dr. Parker was a cross country runner in college.  He's fast as hell.  I made 
the run attempt once--he sacked me before I was half way across the 
room," says the young red head girl that looks to Greg to be about 12.

"That's right.  I was a track star, what about you Greg, any sports you 
like?"

Greg just remains silent and stares at the man.  He wonders what the girl 
meant by a camp.  He decides to keep up the silent treatment until someone 
says something that may benefit him with information.

The doctor sighs to himself as he looks at the young boy with brown hair 
and distant brown eyes laying in the bed.  He wonders why so many kids 
try this, and what drives them to this point.  He watches as the young 17 
year old lays in the bed as if death had already taken his soul.  The way the 
thin child just lays there with a lifeless look in his eyes and his cold 
silences...

"Greg, I have good news for you; today is your last day here.  I'm taking 
you to a camp in upstate New York for awhile so we can help you get 
better.  Your mom and dad have to take care of some of their own 
problems, and won't be able to see you off, but they told me to tell you 
they love you very deeply and want you to get better real soon."

Greg thinks "bullshit."  They're just glad that they won't have to look at 
the only failure in their "All-American family".  They've probably already 
packed my shit up and turned my room into a study.  He turns and looks to 
the window as the doctor continues his praise of this bullshit camp, and 
starts to drift off.

"Well, here we are at the airport.  You excited Greg?"

Greg remains silent, trying to find some way to get away from this asshole 
while at the airport.  He sees his opportunity as they pass a restroom.  He 
smiles to himself.  He puts on his most innocent voice.

"I--I--I've got to use the bathroom," he tilts his head down to add to 
the scared innocent effect.   That works so well in the movies on the 
bleeding heart doctors.  He secretly crosses his fingers praying that this 
little routine will get him the chance he needs.

The doctor smiles, happy to see the boy is starting to come out of his shell.  
He hopes this is a sign of quick progress, and that they won't have to keep 
the boy from his family for a long time.

"Sure, partner.  I saw one a little ways back there." The man turns and 
heads back to the restroom they passed a few yards back with the boy near 
at hand hoping for the best.

"Shit," the boy thinks to himself.  Now how the hell am I gonna get away if 
he goes in with me? He decides as they get near the bathroom to risk out-
running the guy, hoping that 10 years of soccer and being younger would 
give him an edge.  Greg watches as the sign for the bathroom gets closer.  
He starts to count to himself.

"5"

"You know, Greg, I'm happy that you're starting to talk.  It was getting 
kinda boring having a one sided conversation with you."

"4"

"I think this camp will be very beneficial to you.  There are lots of kids 
there that are your age, and have had similar problems to you.  I think this 
will be a great chance for you to make friends."

"3"

"Plus the area is just so beautiful year round.  It's set on a nice size lake."

"2"

"I hope we can become friends.  I'm gonna be your counsellor while you're 
there.  We'll probably spend almost every day together."

"1"

Greg takes off at full sprint.  Not caring to look back.  He can feel the 
blood start to rush in him.  His lean body is surprisingly agile and 
streamlined.  Within a matter of seconds the young kid is a good distance 
from the man, and is closing in fast on the airport exit.

"SHIT!" hollers the doctor as he sees the boy take off like a bullet.  He 
drops his bags and takes off at a gallop to make up the lost ground.  His 
own body takes a similar forward lean that the young kid has.  His long 
muscular legs stretch forward with each stride as if that was their only 
purpose in life.  His long strides work to his advantage to close some of the 
distance, but he is amazed at how fast the boy is moving and is fearing that 
he can't catch him.

Greg doesn't look back.  All he can think about is getting away.  He sees 
the main entrance to the airport in view.  "I'm almost home free!" he thinks 
as he pushes his young tight frame harder to get a little more speed.

Dr.  Parker realizes that the boy is damn fast as he sees him put on a burst 
of speed.  He grunts and pushes himself harder.  He can see the boy getting 
close and reaches his hand out.  He grabs the boy's jacket.  The boy 
struggles throwing his arms back so can slip out of the jacket.  He slides 
out with ease, and continues his mad dash to gain back his lost head start.  
The doctor falls to the ground as the boy's jacket comes free of his body, 
and causes the man to fall from the counter momentum.  He watches as the 
boy escapes out the doors and into the big city of New York.

"WHAT!!! No, NO NO NO!" the frantic woman screams as she drops 
phone.

"Mom, what is it!" says a young lady brushing her long blond locks from 
her tear soaked face as she races to her mother's side.  She picks up the 
dropped phone, and motions for her husband and her older brother to take 
her mother to the couch.  Both men try to comfort the sobbing lady as she 
continues to mumble "My Baby."

"Hello? This is Mrs.  Peterson.  I'm Mrs.  Jefferson's oldest daughter.  
May I ask who this is, and is there a problem?"

"Hello Mrs.  Peterson.  Well, yes -- I'm sad to say there is one.  I'm Dr. 
Staple.  I am the head physician in charge of your youngest brother's care.  
Is your father Mr. Jefferson there?"

"No, he had a meeting with a client today about a lawsuit.  Is there 
something wrong with Greg?"

"Yes, I'm really not at liberty to give this information to anyone other than 
the parents or the police, but under the circumstance I should tell you since 
you can get to your father quicker than me.  Your young brother ran away 
in the airport.  We have already informed the police and they are on the 
way to your home.  I'm very sorry that such a tragic thing has happen.  The 
police have a full report from the young doctor that was with him at the 
time this happened.  Is there anything we can do?"

"I--I don't know.  I need to go." The young girl hangs up the phone 
before the doctor can say anything else.  The shock of her youngest brother 
running away and attempting suicide hits her.  Before her mind can shut 
down from the shock; her instinct kicks in to pick the phone up to call her 
farther.

"Jefferson and Jefferson Law Firm.  How may I help you?"

"Betty this is Kim let me speak to my farther, it's an emergency."

"Sure honey.  I'll get him immediately.  I have to put you on hold a second, 
dear." The secretary gets up and runs to her boss's meeting room.  "Mr. 
Jefferson.  Sir.  I don't mean to bother you, but your daughter is on the 
phone, it's very important."

Simon looks to his eldest son then to his client.  He gets up without a word 
and heads to the nearest phone.

"What is it Kim, Honey?"

The girl starts to cry, "Daddy get home quickly please.  It--it--it's 
Greg.  He--he--"  The girl loses the last of her control as she breaks 
downs.

"What! What's happened?" the man can feel his heart rise in his throat as 
the fears that his youngest child has fulfilled his desire to end his life.  The 
man stands there as the horrible imagine of standing over his son's grave 
appears in his view.  He swallows hard and puts the phone down.

"Mr. Jefferson, are you okay?  I've called you and your son a cab.  Neither 
of you are driving home.  I've cancelled the rest of your meetings." The 
worried secretary gives the man this information not knowing what caused 
this sudden blank stare.  But she can guess it had something to do with the 
youngest son.

The man is unaware of the women standing next to him.  All he can see is 
that picture of his baby's lifeless body in a coffin being lowered into the 
ground.  He's oblivious to his other son and partner in his firm as his son 
helps him into the cab.

Greg smiles to himself as he ducks into his third then fourth alley knowing 
that there is no possible way they could find him now.  He sighs in relief as 
the smell of freedom has found him, but quickly realizes that freedom 
smells a lot like New York garbage and sewers.  He discovers that this is 
the better option, and doesn't care about wanting to end it all now.  He has 
a better freedom than the one death could give him.  He has real freedom.  
He can be himself now.

He makes his way out of the alley and straight onto the once classy 
Broadway street that now is a 24-hour sex pit of hookers, pretty boys, sex 
shops, runaways like him, and other misguided souls.  He learns quickly to 
keep to himself and not make eye contact if he wants to make it.  His 
survival instincts kick in.  He decides his first thing to do is to secure a 
place to sleep tonight.  But he doesn't realize that someone has already 
decided that for him.

The young man across the street watches the teenager as he emerges from 
the alley.  He notices that the young boy sticks out like a sore thumb on 
Broadway.  He can see that the kid is physically fit, but still retains that 
young boy appeal that always gets him an extra few hundred dollars per 
shot.  He smiles as he approaches the boy -- his newest meal ticket.


End of Chapter 1



Greg 

by Michael

Part One, The New York Chronicle

Chapter 2


Franklin watched as the young boy across the street looked around 
Broadway with the all too common "I'm a runaway" look.  His mind 
quickly went into action - how to use this boy to make a quick buck or 
two.  He let the boy wander around the street for a little while longer as he 
studied him.

Greg walked up and down the street several times trying to figure out 
where he could stay for the night.  He asked a few people if they knew 
where a shelter or the YMCA was, but most either ignored him or tried  to 
scam him.  After a few hours of searching and asking for help, he started to 
leave the confines of Broadway street and head to the next street in hopes 
of better luck.  As he got near the corner of the street, he noticed a well 
dressed young man approaching him.  He guessed the guy with the pulled 
back brown ponytail and clean shaven face to be about 28.  He noticed that 
this guy was exceptionally well dressed as he got closer.  He could tell that 
whomever this guy was, he had money, and was not afraid to show it.  
Greg decided to wait at the corner and see if this guy would approach him 
or walk on by..

Franklin watched as the young boy gave him the once over as he got 
closer.  He noticed the boy's eyes widen several times.   Franklin smiled to 
himself noting that either the boy was already a pro at hustling or that he 
could spot expensive clothes when he saw them.  He watched as the boy 
paused and leaned up against the nearest building trying to act like he 
wasn't looking at the man that was coming his way.

"Have you found a place to stay tonight, young man?" asks Franklin.

"Huh? What you mean by that?"

"Look kid, don't play this game with me.  I lived on the streets before.  I 
can spot my own kind a mile away.  It's supposed to get down to freezing 
tonight, and you aren't exactly dressed to handle a New York winter night!  
So like I said, have you found a place for tonight so you can stay warm?"

Greg looks into the man's deep eyes, and wonders if this guy is for real.  
He wonders, "Is there someone in this world who actually cares about my 
well being?"

"Well kid? Is it yes or no? I haven't got all day!"

"Oh," startled from his day dream by the guys deep masculine voice, "I--I
don't have one."

"Well here, take this.  It's the address to a shelter for troubled teens on 34th  
Street.  Tell them Frank sent you.  You'll get a hot meal and a warm bed 
for the night, but you have to leave in the morning.  They only let kids stay 
there during the day that are serious about returning home."

Greg smiles weakly at the last statement as he takes the business card from 
the man's hand.  He looks at the address and frowns.

"Hey kid, listen, don't worry, they won't pressure you to call home or 
anything like that.  Shit like that is strictly voluntary."

"It's--It's not that.  I don't know where 34th Street is."

The man smiles as he notices that the kid isn't a native New Yorker.  He 
starts to ponder just how easy this one will be.

"Is that all? Well I have to go by there today.  I wasn't planning to go this 
early, but I can change my schedule.  That is if you want to stay the night in 
a shelter, or do you think you're man enough to brave the cold weather?"

Greg smiles at the way this man smooth talks.  It makes him wonder just 
why this guy is so nice.  He decides that since there is no way in hell he is 
going back home, he might as well try this guy.  If nothing else he can at 
least try to con him for a few bucks.

"Okay.  By the way, I'm Greg.  Thanks for your help,  Mr. Franklin." 

Frank smiles as he grasps the young man's hand, surprised at the returned 
firmness in grip.

"No problem, anytime, and just call me Frank.  I'm only 26.  Not that much 
older than you, I take it?" 

"Yeah, something like that."

The two gentleman start to walk down the streets of New York together.  
Both trying to make small talk and size up the other for use as a profit gain.  
Greg decides that if he's going to live like a runway for he has to play by 
the rules of survival of the fittest.  Frank, on the other hand, knows the 
game all too well, and has already begun to set his plan in motion.  

"Well Greg, here we are.  It's not much, but it's a warm meal and bed for 
the night."

"Thanks, Mr.  Franklin -- I mean Frank." Greg looks at Frank for second 
and decides it's now or never.   "Eh, Frank, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure man.  Anything you want."

"You were a runaway, right, but how is it after only being off the streets 
for just two years you can afford clothes like that?"

"Hmmm? That was two questions, but I'll let the first one go.   Simple, I'm 
a model.  Rather I was a model now I'm more of a photographer slash 
agent."

"Really? You mean like Runway, and GQ stuff?"

"Not exactly."

"Huh?'

Frank lets out a sigh.  But is smiling on the inside at just how quickly his 
plan is working.

"I was, well, am a nude male model."

"Oh you mean like for art schools.  That's cool."

"No, not exactly.  More like for erotic magazines, and web sites.  I pose for 
them."

Greg's eyes widen a little.  He thinks "Of course that's why he looks so 
damn familiar! I have him on about half of my hard drive at home."

"Oh? Well that's still cool.  You gotta make a living somehow."

Frank notices the boys eyes widen and smiles to himself.

"Well yeah.  I'm not hurting anyone, and I get paid real good too.  Hey 
look Greg, it's been nice talking to you, but I have an appointment I have 
to keep.  I'll see you around, and remember if you need any help, as long as 
it's not for drugs and shit like that, you can always reach me through the 
shelter."

"Thanks, man!"

Greg shakes hands with Frank one last time. Enjoying the knowledge that 
he has seen this guy naked countless times.  He watches as Frank walks off 
and hails a taxi.  He smiles and turns to the door of the shelter.

Greg is quickly greeted by a nice, older Hispanic lady.  She smiles as she 
lays down the ground rules for Greg, and shows him around.  He looks 
around and studies the kids.  He notices some that have scars on their 
wrists, where he soon will.  He can see some that have bruises on their 
bodies, while others fit the "rebel without a cause" stereotype to the letter.  
Yet, the one thing that attracts the most attention are their eyes.  They have 
this distant empty look.  The kind that one gets after losing innocence and 
hope at the same time.  He wanders closer to a mirror.  He looks at himself 
through the layers of grime on the glass.  He tries to focus in on his eyes to 
see if that look has settled in on his face.  He sighs, not being able to tell if 
the person looking back is himself or not, but he figures on it being a good 
thing too.  He notices the lady coming back to him.

"Greg, I know Frank sent you here, but he sent you kinda late.  It will be 
lights out in a few minutes.  I'm sorry that you missed dinner and 
everything.  If you like, while you take a shower I'll open up a can of soup 
for you.  How does that sound?"  

Greg smiles at the lady's generosity, and nods in agreement.   "Thank you 
Ms Rico, that sounds good.   I'd like that."

"Okay then, the showers are down that hall and to the left.  I don't have 
any extra clothes to give you, but from the looks of it, you haven't worn 
those very long.  The towels are in the first closet on the right, along with 
the soaps and shampoos." 

Greg thanks her again and then turns toward the showers.  He starts to 
remove the clothes that the hospital gave him.  He reaches his long arms 
out to the nearest faucet and turns it on.   He lets out a small sigh of relief 
as the warm water hits his naked body, warming it.  He can feel the warm 
water running down over his taut chest as it starts to harden his nipples.  
He spreads his legs wider apart as the water continues its journey down.  
He closes his eyes and starts to think about what has happened  in the past 
few weeks.  He stands there as the water flows between his legs and 
around his balls.  

He can't help but notice the sensation that the water is causing deep in the 
center of his body.  He slowly starts to rub at his hard nipples with his 
hands.  He moans as the waves of pleasure ripple through him.  He can feel 
his cock starting to rise to attention under the warm, gentle caresses of the 
water.   He glides his warm wet hands down his tight chiseled stomach 
towards the trail of soaked hair that leads to the base of his cock.  He 
closes his eyes and tilts his head back while he leans against the brown tiled 
shower wall.  He can see sweet torturing visions of Frank behind his 
eyelids.  He can see the man that he has fantasized about for so many years 
reaching out and touching his cock.  

Greg whimpers fitfully as his fist takes the first soothing stroke of his cock.  
He can feel the intense pleasure building, causing sticky droplets of pre-
cum to escape from the swollen head.  He slowly slides his hand downward 
towards the base of his engorged rod.  He continues this slow rhythmic 
stroking while his other hand begins to caress his hair-covered sac.   His 
head thrashes wildly from side to side as the combined effort of massaging 
his balls and the stroking of his cock brings him closer and closer to the 
edge.  He can still see his fantasy man in his mind.  He can see Frank 
seductively caressing both their naked  bodies.  Greg imagines what it 
would be like to have his smooth tight chest touch the masculine chiseled 
features of Frank's lightly hair covered chest.  Greg slowly tightens his grip 
on his hard cock and increases his tempo, stroking it faster, and faster still.

His breathing becomes ragged, he can feel the muscles in his legs stiffen; 
his back goes rigid against the wall.  It arches him forward causing his cock 
to push painfully farther into his fist.  He can feel his body tense as the 
intense pressure boils in his balls and travels to the base of his manhood.  
He can feel the steaming cum erupt in bursts from his now painfully erect 
dick, and onto his hand and the tiled floor of the shower.  His body goes 
limp, as does his hand.  He loses himself in the moment and raggedly 
whispers Frank's name.  


"Mr. Jefferson, do you have any more photos of your son?" asks the 
officer.

"Yes."

"I must remind you that the actual investigation technically cannot start till 
24 hours after the person is reported missing; however, under these 
conditions, my superior has given me permission to proceed with it as 
quickly as possible.  I understand that he was going to some sort of therapy 
camp? Is this correct?"

"Yes, sir.  It was suggested by a counsellor to help him deal with his 
problems.  We still can't understand what caused this in the first place.  He 
was always such a good kid.  He--he just--"

Mr. Jefferson trails off as the haunting vision of seeing his son back in the 
bathroom pushes forward.  He closes his eyes, and turns away from the 
officer as tears stream down his face.  He goes to his wife's side and the 
couple just sit there like a part of their soul, their being, has been ripped 
from them.  They face the worst thing that any two people can ever face; 
the loss of one of their children.

The young officer sees the pain the couple is in, and decides it best to get 
the pictures from one of the other children who seems to be holding up a 
little better than the parents.  He thanks the lady that hands them to him 
and quietly leaves the family.

"Hey buddy, where to?"

"World Trade Center," says Frank.

"Okay man, but I should tell you it's gonna be a wait.  Some stupid asshole 
had a wreck and traffic is really backed up."

"Whatever."

Frank sighs a little as he settles into the musty old back seat of the cab.  He 
thinks of the young man he just met.  He thinks of how this young Adonis 
reminds him of himself.  He quickly remembers that he has to call his boss.
"Scott Miller's office, how may I help you?"

"Cindy this is Frank, can you get a message to Scott for me?"

"Sure, Mr. Walter.  Is this concerning your appointment?"

"Yes, I'm stuck in traffic.  Tell him I'll be there as soon as possible.  Also, 
tell him that I have a prospective new client for him."

"I will do, Mr. Walter.  Is there anything else?"

"No."

"Thank you again, Sir."

"You're welcome."

Frank turns off the cellular phone.  He smiles at the idea of seeing the 
young man naked in a photo shoot, and possibly joining him in a couple.  
He can feel the blood rushing to his dick.  He smiles and thinks `down boy, 
you'll get that boy all you want later.'

Greg finishes the soup and glances at the clock that reads 11:50 p.m.  He 
sighs and lets his mind wander back to Frank.  A small smile crosses his 
face.  He wonders exactly how that cute runaway went from the streets to 
the big time on the net?  He starts to play with the fantasy of taking Frank 
up on his commitment of helping with anything.  He chuckles at the idea of 
saying, "Hey Frank, can you help me become a net pinup like you, and 
while you're at it can you fulfill my fantasy and fuck me like a wild man?"  
He starts to laugh uncontrollably at this.  

"What's so funny?'

"Huh? Oh, nothing Ms Rico."

"Well young man, it's late, and I think we both need sleep.  I have a cot 
prepared for you where the other kids sleep.  I received a call from Frank; 
he was checking to see if you decided to say here.  I think he mentioned he 
might be coming here tomorrow during the day.  He said he wanted to 
speak with you."

"Really!" saying it a little to hastily for his own good.

Ms Rico smiles at the young man sensing the eager sound in his voice.

"Well it's off to bed with you."

End of Chapter 2


Greg 

by Michael

Part One, The New York Chronicle

Chapter 3

"Thanks Janet, and now in our on going concern to help the community we 
present our weekly list of photos of missing children.  Remember if you 
have seen any of these children please contact your local law enforcement 
agency," says the news anchor.

A series of pictures flash across the screen with names and little bits of 
information.  Greg cringes as he looks at his picture flash across the 
television in the recreation room; he quickly looks around to see if anyone 
else is watching.  He sighs a breath of relief when no one realizes that it 
was him.  He turns his head and looks at the clock.  Groaning, Greg notices 
that he has one more hour left before he has to leave the shelter according 
to their rules.  Figuring Frank won't show up like Ms Rico promised, he 
gets up and heads for the shelter exit shivering as the cold New York 
winter chills his body through the thin coat.

"Hey you, why didn't you wait for me inside, where it's warm?"

"Huh?" Greg turns around to see those bright sparkling eyes piercing 
straight through him.  He watches as the young man approaches him with a 
confident stride.  It takes all of Greg's self control to keep from wanting to 
take the man in his arms and kiss those soft pouting red lips right there.  

"Well I thought you weren't going show; a guys gotta keep himself 
prepared for anything, you now!"

"Well, I'm here now.  How did you sleep last night?"

"Okay, I guess.  It was my first night in a shelter."

"Oh, really?  Well, if I remember correctly Ms Rico's a nice lady, but a 
terrible cook.  You wanna get something to eat?  I know this great Chinese 
buffet."

Greg smiles a little, but still wonders why this guy is being so nice to a 
perfect stranger.  He decides to go along, and milk him for what he's 
worth.  He always was told to never look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Yeah, sure."

"O.K. then, it's a date," Frank smiles to himself at his carefully placed hint.

"Huh?!" Greg looks startled at the man; how could he know I was gay?

"Hey relax, it's a figure of speech.  Besides, you're not my type."  Frank 
winks at the young man and throws up a limp wrist in Greg's face.  He 
starts to laugh as they head down to Time Square.

Greg feels his heart move from his throat down to his stomach in less than 
a second.  He suddenly has lost his appetite.  He gives Frank a weak smile 
at the limp wrist bit, but is not sure if he wants to punch the guy in the 
stomach, or just have a swift knee land in the man's crotch!  `How could 
such a cute guy be so damn idiotic?  Just because someone is gay doesn't 
mean they are some fucking prissy little boy,' runs across Greg's mind in 
that brief moment of rage.  He starts to chuckle at the irony of things.  
Here is a cute hunk that obviously hates gays, yet has his naked body 
plastered at thousands of gay net sites.

"Hey, you okay over there?"

"Yeah sure, just remembered something funny, that's all."

"Well, if it's so funny why not share it?"

"Naah, it's a private joke.  You wouldn't think it's funny."

"Yes I would, try me!  I've got a good sense of humor."

"Maybe later."

Frank smiles to himself at Greg's last statement...

The two men head towards a little restaurant in the heart of Time Square.  
The entire trip there Greg is shivering half from the cold, and half from the 
suddenly shattered fantasies. He barely pays attention to the small talk 
Frank makes.

Frank continues to talk, trying to keep the conversation alive; he notices a 
drastic change in the young man's behavior.  He starts to ponder if he made 
the right choice with this one?

"Well bud, here we are.  It ain't much, but they have the best food in this 
town."

"That's cool, but I have a problem."

"What?"

"I...  I...  ain't got no money, man."

"Hey, did I not tell you that if you need anything just ask.  I know what it 
means to be on the streets."  

"Well, when I get a job, I'll repay you, okay?"

"Hey man, don't worry about it.  I just want you to have a chance, that's 
all.  Now are we going to stay out here all day, or are we gonna go inside 
and get some grub?"

Frank throws his arm over Greg's shoulders with the last remark, and 
steers the young man through the doors of the restaurant.  He grins a little 
as they enter, noticing that Greg doesn't shy away from the "innocent" 
show of friendship.

Greg notices the arm go across his shoulder, but has mixed emotions about 
it.  He doesn't know if he wants to melt under the warmth of this beautiful 
man next to him, or use this as a chance to jab the asshole in his ribs!

As they enter they are greeted by a young Asian male.  He flashes them a 
nice smile, showing a perfect set of white teeth.  He gives the boys a quick 
once over and smiles even more.

"Hello, gentlemen; smoking or non smoking?"

"Non," both say in unison.  They look at each other, and can't help but 
laugh.

Both men are shown to a close set table; the type used for couples.

As the two eat; they continue their small talk about life in general.  Finally, 
Frank decides to step up his plan to the next level.

"Hey, can I ask you a personal question?  I'll understand if you don't want 
to answer."

"Eh? Sure, I guess?"

"Eh ... what caused you to do that?"  Frank points to the recently removed 
bandages and forming scars on Greg's wrist.

Greg looks down at them, and a flood of excuses and half truths enter his 
mind.  He can feel that sick feeling rising in his stomach.  The one that 
makes him want to hide in the nearest corner.  The kind that you get when 
all you want to do is tell the truth, but the fear of its consequences scares 
you the bone.

"Hey man, if it's uncomfortable you can keep it to yourself, but remember 
things like that don't just happen.  They have a serious reason, and if you 
won't share the reason it will happen again."

Greg looks up Frank with watery eyes.

"You ...you wanna...  k ...  know?  This is because of assholes like you! 
Assholes like my family!  People like you and them!  The kind that hate 
someone just because they're different.  People, if I can call your kind that, 
make me sick!"

Greg looks away as he starts to get up and leave.  As the watery effect 
builds into a steady stream, he moves quickly to the door.

Frank sits there with a half dazed, half pissed look on his face.

"That littler fucker, how dare he!"

Frank pulls out a twenty and leaves it on the table.  He quickly jumps up 
from the table and bolts for the door.  He gets outside and looks in both 
directions for the little jerk that insulted him.  He smiles as he sees the boy 
turn down an alley.  Frank follows quickly, figuring if he can't use the kid, 
he can at least get himself a freebie in the alley.  He decides he's going to 
make this one pay, and pay good!

Greg runs into the alley, not aware where he is turning.  He sits down on a 
crate and lets it all come out.  He starts to cry uncontrollably; the pain of 
his life and secrets floods outward.  He starts to mumble to himself.

"Just look at you, you little queer.  Sitting here and crying like the fag you 
are.  Don't you know that's what they think of you?  Just a little fruit -- a 
little--"

"No, not all think that."

Greg looks up at the sound of Frank's voice and stops mid sentence.  He 
feels the adrenaline surge through his body.  "Shit!" he thinks to himself.  
"I'm trapped!  This asshole has me trapped.   How could I be so stupid as 
to run into a dead end alley?"  He starts to look around for some object to 
defend himself with.

Frank looks at the boy, and smiles as he thinks to himself,  "So that's your 
thing, kid; you hate being a queer!  Perfect, there is still hope for me 
making a little money from you yet!  Now what am I suppose to do with 
your poor little broken heart.  Don't worry your `friend' Frank is going to 
help you -- yeah that's it -- I'm going take `good' care of you."

"Hey Greg, relax man.  I won't hurt you.  Can you stop the craziness for a 
second so we can talk? Why did you run out like that, and what did I do to 
make you hate me so much?"

Greg pauses a second and looks at the man half in disbelief and half in pure 
anger.

"God, you're such an asshole!  I can see through this act.  You be nice to 
the little queer.  Win his trust, and when he's not expecting it you kill him! 
Yeah, that's it, one less fruit for the world.  Well I ain't going out that 
easily."

Frank starts to laugh hard.

"You think that's what I am? A gay basher?  You're so far from the truth, 
kid."

"Bullshit, I saw the `limp wrist' joke you made, and the way you made fun 
of gays."

"Yeah, I made fun of gays, and the limp wristed kind, but I did it as a joke, 
and to make you feel better.  I lied earlier."

"See!  I knew you hate gays."  Greg reaches for a broken broom stick as 
Frank takes a step closer.  "Stay there, fucker!"

Frank pauses for a second; he starts to laugh again.

"Look you little Bruce Lee wanna-be, let me finish a goddamn sentence 
before you try and bash my brains in.  I said I lied, yes, but about what I 
didn't say.  If you would have let me finish, you would have heard I lied 
about you not being my type.  You ARE my type!"

"Bullshit, just because you own some web pages for gays doesn't mean 
you're gay, and I said stay back!"

Frank smiles to himself.  `So you've seen my pictures? Good!'  Frank's 
inner smile grows.

"Look kid, I don't want any trouble.  I just wanted to help you change the 
way you lived.  This life on the streets isn't for anyone.  I should know.  I 
did it since I was 13."

Frank edges closer to Greg, carefully taking each step as he uses his voice 
to calm the kid down.  He gets next to the boy, and puts a gentle hand on 
the trembling boy's shoulder.  He draws the young body in close to him, 
and presses the wary body to his.  He whispers softly into Greg's ear.

"Please, come home with me?  I've never felt like this about anyone."

Greg melts as he feels the heat of those words in his ear.  Before his mind 
can answer, his crotch gave the answer.  The blood rushing there pushes 
his cock hard against the faded jeans and Frank's own basket.  He weakly 
stammers a "Yes" as tears of joy run down his face.

Frank smiles to himself.  He smiles knowing he has this young man totally 
now.  He squeezes him tighter.

The rest of that day is a haze to Greg.  All he knows is that they 
immediately enter a cab.

"Well, here we are, babe.  This is our home.  God it feels good to say that, 
Our Home."

Greg looks around in amazement at the well furnished loft.  He's amazed at 
the fact Frank spared no expense.  Just as he turns around to say 
something, Frank presses his lips to Greg's.  Greg parts his lips slightly as 
Frank's warm and wet tongue pushes forward.  Frank pulls away slowly.

"You taste good, my love."

"Mmmm," is all Greg can respond.  The excitement of having his first 
experience with someone he loves is too much.

"Well my dear, that was quick!"

"Huh?"

Frank chuckles a little as he slides his hand between their two still-clothed 
bodies, and gently squeezes the large, wet sticky spot on Greg pants.  He 
watches as Greg blushes slightly.

"I'm sorry.  I didn't realize..."

"Hush.  You don't have to apologize for anything, my love.  It just means 
you're excited.  Am I your first?"

Greg looks away a little and nods.  Frank lightly puts his strong hand on 
Greg's well chiseled chin, and turns it to him.  He brushes a brown lock of 
hair from the young man's tanned face.  He can see those trusting brown 
eyes staring at him.  He smiles as he leans closer to kiss the soft warm lips.  
He slowly runs his arms down the taut muscular back of the young man.  
He lets his hands rest on the tight firm buttocks clad in faded denim.  Frank 
press his raging cock harder against Greg, grinding the two together.  He 
can hear a moan escape from Greg's lips while they kiss.

Greg slowly breaks the kiss.  He looks at the man with a ponytail and 
emerald green eyes.  The type of eyes you could get lost in.  He smiles and 
glides his hands up and down Frank's back.

"I ... I ... lo ... love ... you, Frank."

Frank smiles.

"Let's go to bed, my love."

Greg nods.

Frank takes the young man by the hand and leads him upstairs.

As they walk hand and hand up the stairs, Greg looks around a little and 
notices a beautiful etched mirror.  He smiles, knowing that even though he 
can't see himself at this angle he is smiling.


End of Chapter 3


Greg 

by Michael

Part One, The New York Chronicle

Chapter 4


Greg purrs softly as a set of hands run down his naked body.  The hands 
circle his chest, and slowly knead the hard flesh, warming, relaxing the 
muscles.  The hands gently glide over each well tanned nipple, slightly 
pinching each.

"Mmm"

Greg starts to moan as the warm breath of his lover gets closer to his navel.  
He can feel the wetness of a tongue slowly touch there.  The pleasure 
causes his dick to twitch against the weight that is on top of it.  He slowly 
moves his head from side to side as the magical lips continue their descent.  
The feel of having his pubes slowly bathed causes another jerk of pleasure 
in his exposed cock.  This starts the pre-cum flowing.  Frank slowly traces 
his warm lips around the base of Greg's cock, as the pre-cum makes its 
way towards his hungry lips, down from the opening in the head.  Frank 
reaches up with his tongue to taste the first drop that reaches the base.

He slowly lets his tongue travel upwards.  He flicks it across the swollen 
head, scooping up some love juice.  Frank watches as Greg wiggles from 
the excitement.  He smiles, knowing that this kid is his now.  He slowly 
opens his lips and engulfs the bright head.  Sucking in deeply, he continues 
downward.

"Oh!! Yess!!  Yessss!!" hollers Greg.

Frank smiles a little at the words coming from Greg.  He takes one hand 
away from the hard nipples of Greg's well defined chest.  He places it 
softly on the boy's balls, and starts to massage the tightly drawn, hairy sac.  
The feeling of the swollen balls in his hands causes Frank's cock to jump.  
Frank gets up and starts to reposition himself on the bed, but never misses 
a suck.  His cock is now directly over Greg's face.

Greg opens his eyes and sees the throbbing tool staring at him; he smiles as 
Frank slowly pushes it closer to his mouth.  Greg slowly opens his lips, and 
lets the living steel slide into his mouth.  He can hear Frank let out a sigh of 
joy.  Greg starts to suck at the cock hungrily.  The slurping sounds start to 
drive Frank closer to edge; he takes Greg's cock all the way down his well 
trained mouth, swallowing the entire length of the 7 inch tool.   Greg jerks 
a little as this new sensation travels through him.   He tries to return the 
favor, but can only make it half way down Frank's cock.

Frank smiles at the kid's effort.  He slowly takes a finger and travels it over 
Greg's firm young ass.  He can feel the boy squirm each time he gets closer 
to the kid's pucker hole.   Frank slowly wiggles a finger into it,  being 
careful not to hurt the kid.

Greg gasps a little as he feels the intrusion into his butt, but soon the shock 
passes.  He starts to feel a joyous pleasure begin there.  He can feel it travel 
to his balls.  His balls start to draw in closer to his body.  His body starts to 
tighten under the weight of Frank's hard body.  He can feel the 
unmistakable tension growing in the base of his cock.  Greg lurches once in 
an upwards motion; lifting both him and Frank off the bed.  His cock slides 
farther down Frank's mouth.

"Ahhh....  OOO!!!"

Greg releases his second load of the night.  This one more powerful than 
any he has ever had.  Franks purrs as the warm liquid travels down his 
throat.  He can feel his finger being squeezed far inside the boy.  This 
pushes Frank closer to the edge.  He starts to pump his cock into Greg's 
mouth.  

Greg gets quickly awakened from the afterglow of his orgasm by the cock 
pushing in and out of his mouth.  Greg gags a little a few times on the 
downward stroke.  He tries to get Frank to slow down, but Frank is too 
close to the edge to hear the request.   Suddenly Greg feels a blast of hot 
goo hit his tongue on the last good shove.  He starts to greedily suck at the 
new taste in his mouth.  The flow continues in his mouth; wave after wave 
of cum erupts from Frank's dick.  Finally after what seems like a gallon, 
Frank's cock starts to go limp.

He slowly pulls his tender weapon from Greg's mouth.  He moves around 
on the bed a little.  Greg starts to snuggle in closer to Frank.  Frank smiles 
a little to himself as the young man places his head on his chest.  Frank 
carefully puts an arm around Greg's back, and hugs him closer.

"I love you, Frank."

Frank kisses the top of Greg's head as those words are whispered.  They 
both drift off to sleep.


"Oooh YESS!! Harder.  Mmm right there."

"Shit!"

"Was that what I think it was? You said they were going be gone all 
afternoon?"

"Yeah, well, man what can I say with all the shit that's happened; no one 
here is their normal predictable self.  So cut me some slack, okay?"

"I'm sorry Love, but we better get dressed quickly."

Marcus springs from the bed as the words leave his mouth.  He starts to 
pull his jeans over his soccer physique.  Marcus smiles as Jason watches 
him try and put the still semi-hard dick in his jeans.  The same dick that a 
few seconds ago was about to explode inside his lovers waiting ass.

"So love, you think its safe to come over to my house to weekend?  My 
folks are still away on the second honeymoon trip."

"I don't. My mom and dad are still shaken by what Greg's done.  I still 
can't believe it myself."

Marcus walks back over to the bed as his pulls his shirt over his head.  He 
moves closer to his love, and wraps his arms around the hard body that was 
given to him from years of being a star quarterback.  He can feel the man 
next to him sigh a breath of relief from the past few days of hell.

"It's okay honey, just let it go."

Jason lays his head on the lap of his love, and slowly closes his eyes.  Tears 
start to leak from the side of his eyes.  How could his younger brother do 
this?  The only one in the family that seemed to understand him just a few 
days ago tried to kill himself, and is now somewhere on the streets.  Jason 
starts to let his tears flow in a steady stream.  He starts to drift in out of 
sleep as Marcus strokes his hair.  Jason smiles weakly; `at least I have my 
soul mate to get me through this.'

He starts to think back at how the two of them met.  It was so easy to 
move from close young friends in eighth grade to lovers in college.  He 
breathes in deeply as he raises his head.  Jason looks at the man he loves, 
and knows the problems that his family face put a burden on their 
relationship.  He draws the man closer, and kisses him deeply.

"What was that for?"

Jason smiles at the question.

"It was because I love you, and you love me.  Now I gotta get dressed.  I 
don't think my family can handle seeing me in the nude, and having you 
with a hard-on because of it."

Marcus grins.  

"Yeah well, I guess I'll let you get dressed this time."

The two men walk down the stairs of Jason's family home.  He sees his 
mother in the kitchen.  The two men walk towards her.  

"Hi mom."

Jason kisses her lightly on the cheek.

"Hi mom," says Marcus in a sincere tone.

Marcus walks to her in a friendly way, and kisses her on the other cheek, as 
if he was one of her own kids.

"Hello boys," the woman says with a weakness in her voice.

She watches the phone as if it would suddenly ring.

"Hey Mom, I have to take Marcus back to the dorm.  You want me to 
spend the night here?"

"Huh? No no no, you go on and stay there.  I'll be fine, honey.  You two 
boys need to be around other kids your age, and your education is too 
important."

"Okay mom."

Jason kisses his mom on the cheek again.  The two men walk to the door.  
Jason pauses a second, and looks back at his mom.  She turns to them, and 
gives her middle son the best warm smile she can.  He smiles weakly back, 
and walks out the door.

"Jason, you don't have to stay with me tonight.  I know it hurts to be away 
from her."

"Thanks love, but I can't give her what she needs.  She needs Greg, we all 
need him back."

"I still can't understand what caused him to do that! He always seemed so 
happy.  Even when things were going against him."

The two men drive back to the dorm holding hands in the car.  They drive 
the two hours in silence.  

"Well, here we are Marcus, wake up hun."

"Huh? Oh okay."
The two men walk towards the dorm in the cold night air.   They walk into 
the small room.  Jason turns to Marcus, and kisses him on the lips.

"Hold me tonight Love, please."

"For you Jason, I would do anything."

Marcus slowly undresses Jason.  He lets his hands massage the tense 
shoulder muscles.  He can hear Jason coo; he reaches his hand down and 
starts to unfasten the button on Jason's jeans.   Jason tilts his head back as 
Marcus's hands run through his pubic hairs.  Marcus presses his body 
against Jason.  He reaches for Jason's lips with his.  Jason opens his mouth 
slightly to feel the warmth of his lover's tongue inside him.

"Let's go to bed, my Jason."

Marcus leads his naked lover to the bed.  Jason curls up next to Marcus, 
and rests his head on Marcus's shoulder.  Marcus hugs him tightly as they 
drift off to sleep.

End of Chapter 4


Greg 

by Michael

Part One, The New York Chronicle

Chapter 5

Greg's eyes flutter open as he feels the warm hands stroke his hair; he sighs 
a gasp of joy as he feels the closeness of Frank.  He can feel the man's cock 
pressed tightly against his back and his arm wrapped tightly around his 
waist.  Greg realize sthat his whole body is aware of every part of it that 
touches Franks body.  Greg slowly turns in the warm embrace of Frank's 
arms.  He looks into the man's eyes as he slowly draws to his lips.  Greg 
presses their mouths tightly together; he gently forces his tongue into 
Frank's waiting mouth.  He can hear a soft moan escape from Frank's 
mouth into his.

Frank slowly breaks the kiss.  He looks into the young man's eyes and can 
see the love that pours from them.  He can see how this young man has 
already given his heart.  Frank can feel the knots tighten in his stomach.  
He thinks to himself, `how could I do this to him; how could he do this to 
me?  I never asked for his love.  I never wanted to fall in love; you were 
just suppose to be my meal ticket!'

Greg looks at the distant look on Frank's face.

"Where are you, Frank?" 

"Huh?...  Oh, nowhere, just thinking.  Thinking how I never felt this way 
before."

Greg smiles at him and squeezes Frank tighter to him.

"I love you too, Frank."

"I know, but I hate to say this ... as much as I would like to stay in this 
position, I can't.  I still have work today.  I have a meeting that I just can't 
cancel."

Greg frowns a little, and slightly draws away from Frank's embrace.

"Don't do this Greg, I love you, but I have to go to work.  I just can't help 
some things."

Frank slowly pulls Greg closer and kisses him once more before he leaves 
the bed to get ready.  Greg lays in the bed as he watches the man that stole 
his heart get ready.  He closes his eyes and breathes in the lingering scent 
of Frank still on the bed.

Frank steps into the shower; he can feel the knot tighten harder as he 
passes the mirror.  He looks at the man reflected there.  `How could I do 
this to someone I love?  How can I do what I am about to do?'

Frank slowly re-enters the bedroom; he watches Greg move around the 
room without a care.  The knot in his stomach grows.

"Greg, I'll be leaving soon.  You have the run of the house.  I've left my 
wallet and a set of keys on the table - if you want you can go shopping, but 
I would rather be there with you when you do."

Greg smiles at him.

"Of course I'll wait for you.  How long is this meeting?"

Frank sighs, "About fours hours.  It's a shoot slash meeting."

Greg frowns a little, but starts to smile, "Okay, I'll wait for you love."

Frank slowly leaves the room and heads outside. As he closes the door to 
the apartment he whispers, `forgive me, my love.'

Greg slowly gets up and stretches.  He looks around the bedroom noticing 
all the electronic equipment that ranges from cameras to computers.  He 
moves to one of the computers and taps the mouse.   The screen saver of 
the naked boy is quickly replace by a message asking if he wants to 
reconnect the modem.  He clicks `yes' and waits for the whole process to 
finish.  Once it does he decides to nose around some of Franks favorite 
book marked web sites.


RING ... RING

"Huh?...  What?...  FUCK! Hello, who is this?"

"Marcus? Let me speak to Jason it's important...!"

"Huh? I said who is this?"

"It's his professor, Dr. Owers.  Look, put him on the phone I have some 
important information about his little brother."

Marcus quickly comes to his senses as the last remark registers in his mind.  
He starts to shake Jason awake.

"Jason, get up, this is important - it's about Greg.  Dr. Owers knows 
something."

"Hunh? wha...  okay...  whatever..."

Marcus sighs as he watches Jason fall back to sleep.  He pushes hard this 
time knowing this will wake him up for sure.

"Jason, this sounds serious, you need to get up!  Dr.  Owers wants to 
speak to you about your brother."

"WHAT?"

Jason jumps up with a bolt of energy.  He springs to the phone.

"Hello, this is Jason.  Dr. Owers?  You know something about my brother? 
What? Is he okay?"

Jason continues to frantically ask the doctor questions without giving the 
man a chance to answer.

"Look Jason, calm down.  Let me get a word in, please.  I don't know a 
lot, but I do know you need to get to your PC quickly."

"What for, doctor?"

"Jason, I can't explain this; it's better if you see it"

Jason motions to Marcus to turn on their laptop and get the modem 
connection ready.

"Jason I have to warn you this site is a pornographic site.  You're not 
going to like what you see."

"WHAT? You're saying my little brother is in the porno business?"

"NO, not exactly.  I don't think he knew he was being taped."

Marcus taps Jason on the shoulder motioning that the laptop is ready.

"Dr. Owers, can I have the URL?  I only have one phone line."

Dr.  Owers sighs a little, wondering if  he is doing the right thing. He finally 
swallows his fear, and gives the young man the URL, knowing that by 
doing so he also jeopardizes his career.  How many of his peers would 
respect him knowing that he is gay and looks at sites that have young men 
on them?

Jason thanks the doctor and repeats it back to Marcus.


Greg's eyes suddenly tear up as he sees himself jacking off in the shower at 
the shelter.  He watches in shock as he sees pic after pic of himself.  The 
thoughts go racing through his head.  `Who could have done this to me?'  
He soon realizes the camera was in the nozzle by it's angle.  Greg suddenly 
feels sick to his stomach, he rushes to bathroom.


Marcus becomes speechless as he sees the site's title, "Boys Caught In the 
Act."

Jason and Marcus eyes are instantly drawn to the flashing two icons.  That 
feature Greg's name next to the word "Solo" on one and "With a friend" 
on the other.  Marcus can feel Jason's hand claw into his thigh.  Marcus 
instinctively places his hand on top and squeezes back.  Both boys gasp as 
the see the youngest member of their family in a 69 position with another 
man.  The shock of realizing that Greg is gay is too much for Jason.  
Without thinking he throws the laptop.

Marcus jumps, startled.

"JASON! Calm down!"

Jason turns to Marcus, he looks at the man he loves through eyes that are 
half in rage and half in pain.  He falls down crying.

"Oh Jason!"

Marcus grabs Jason, and holds him again tightly.  Marcus wishes he could 
take the pain away, but knows that no one can do that but Greg.

Jason looks up to Marcus with questions in his eyes.

"Marcus, what's happened to my baby brother?"


Greg looks at the screen as his pain quickly turns to anger.  "How could he 
do this to me? The man that `loved' me?"


End of Chapter 5


Greg 

by Michael

Part One, The New York Chronicle

Chapter 6

Frank tips the cab driver as he gets out.  The thoughts of what he just did 
still ring in his head.  He thinks `how could I sell pictures of the guy I care 
for?'  He sighs and heads for the loft.  Frank's face turns to anger as the 
freight door opens to his loft.  He looks at his once fashionable apartment, 
now completely trashed.  The place looks like a hurricane hit it.  Chairs  
destroyed, pictures torn.  Things stolen.  His first fear is someone broke in 
and kidnapped Greg; that is until he sees the printout.  It is a picture of him 
and Greg holding each other in the bed. A message is written on it.

"You lied to me!  How could you? I gave you my heart.  This is not over 
you bastard!!"

Frank looks at the note and just stares at it.  The anger inside him starts to 
mix with the pain of losing Greg.  He tries to convince himself the guy 
wasn't worth it.


"Mom, Dad, we need to talk."

"Yes Jason, is something wrong dear?"

Jason swallows a little.  He looks at both his parents with a nervous stare.  
He then looks toward Marcus, and sees the reason in his eyes for doing 
this.

"It's Greg...  We found some information out about him."

Both parents suddenly have a flash of hope in their eyes, but it quickly goes 
when they realize that the same hope isn't in Jason's eyes.

Jason's father speaks first in a worried tone.  The shaking in his hand is 
visible.

"Son, what is it? Tell us.  No matter what it is."

Jason looks down, struggling for the words.

"We saw him on a pornography site on the web.  We think he's gay."

The parents sit there in shock as the words hit them.  Their youngest baby, 
gay and in pornography?  How? 

"But he dated girls! How could that be?" was the only thing his mom could 
say.

Marcus looks up, and sighs a little.

"Mrs.  Jefferson, that really doesn't mean anything; you remember when 
Jason and I tried to hide it from you two and my parents?  We did similar 
things too.  All we know is that Greg is gay, he has somehow gotten into 
the porn industry, and that he is alive.  We have hope now."

Mrs. Jefferson starts to cry a little; her husband draws her close trying to 
hold back his own tears.  Jason and Marcus just stare off into space lost in 
their thoughts about their brother.


"Look kid, I don't care how much you paid for the camcorder; you ain't 
getting more than $100 for it."

Greg frowns slightly at the Pawn dealer then quickly smiles as a bright idea 
flashes in his eyes.

"I tell you what sir, I'll take your deal."

Greg hands the man the camera, and patiently waits for the papers to be 
signed and then his cash.

"O.K.   kid that's 100 dollars, plus what you got from your other stuff, 
you're 500 dollars richer."

Greg starts to smile his winning smile.

"Actually sir, I think I may be a little richer than you think."

"Yeah kid? And how is that?"

"Well you know that nice camcorder I just sold you?"

"What about it?"

"Well, does it feel kinda light; like it doesn't have the nice little battery that 
goes with it?

"You little shit! Give that to me, NOW!"

"Not so fast, you and me both know that camcorder was top of the line 
stuff, you give me another 150, and you get the battery to it."

Greg stares the old bald man in the eyes, knowing he has the man by the 
balls.  He always did get a thrill out of out-smarting someone.

The old man sighs realizing it will be cheaper to give in to the boy's 
demand rather than finding a battery for the camera.

"All right kid, you win. You play a good game of hardball, but a word of 
advice - be careful, there is always someone out there better than you."

Greg frowns a little.  "Yeah, I know what you mean.  I've already learned 
that lesson.  I learned it the hard way, but mark my words I also learned to 
never let it happen again, and to take care of those that do outsmart me."

Greg flashes the man a bitter sweet smile as the thoughts of Frank taking 
his heart and then using him flash across his mind.   He makes the 
conscious decision to never let another man near him.  Greg collects the 
last of his money, and heads to the door passing a wall with a collection of 
mirrors; he gets a glimpse of the man that is staring back at him from the 
mirror.  He smiles at how quickly the hard looking man replaced the once 
weak boy.   He heads out into the world that awaits him.

Frank suddenly jumps as the bottle of Jack Daniel falls from his hand and 
wakes him from his drunken sleep.  He looks around at the mess that has 
stayed the same for the past four days.  The stench of trash mixing with his 
smell of body odor and waste becomes too much for his nostrils to handle.  
He makes a mad dash to the bathroom where he makes his offering to the 
porcelain god.  After he gets finish emptying four days worth of Kentucky 
whiskey out of his body, he staggers over to the tub and sticks his head 
under the faucet.  He shivers as the ice cold water hits the back of his neck; 
he sits there for a while and tries to collect his thoughts.  `How can 
someone have such an effect on me? I'm supposed to be the one that never 
gets hurts.  I'm supposed to be the user, and not the one getting used!'

Frank starts to cry as the bitter sweet memories come back to him of the 
one night he had of happiness with Greg.  The way Greg's young hard 
body felt against him.  How Greg's cock felt in his mouth; that soft velvet 
texture.  It was like having a piece of steel wrapped in warmth, that would 
continue to throb as he stroked and touched it.  Until finally he put his lips 
to the bulging head and ever so gently licked  it.  The way he would 
teasingly lick causing Greg to go crazy with the wait.  Finally after having 
his fun, Frank would then slowly slide his mouth down over the head, and 
take his sweet time descending to the base; all the while causing the 
muscles in his throat to rhythmically contract and milk Greg's cock.  Just 
as Frank would get to the base he would just as slowly start his trip back 
up to the head, sucking in hard like someone trying to suck at a straw.  He 
would get the top and remove his lips to watch the bead of pre-cum form.

Frank shakes himself again from another endless daydream, but this time he 
hears something in the background. `Is that....  YES!  That's my Greg's 
voice,' Frank thinks to himself.

Frank rushes to find the phone before Greg gets finished with his message 
on the machine.  He smiles as he sees the blinking light from the machine, 
and picks up.

"Hello? Hello? Greg? It's me....  look baby I'm sorry."

Greg stops mid sentence as he hears the weak voice on the other side.  He 
wickedly smiles at the tone Frank uses.

"Listen Frank, you hurt me; you hurt me bad.  I don't know if that pain can 
heal.  I know I damaged your stuff, but we still need to talk.  I still have 
feelings for you.  I have to know some things, but I want to talk in person.  
I can't go back to your apartment yet; I don't feel safe there."

"Honey, I'm sorry.  I'll do anything to have you back.  I ... I ... I love you, 
Greg."

Frank falls silent as the words slip from his mouth and the tears and 
sobbing can be easily heard by Greg.

In a gentle voice Greg says, "Frank, listen, I know you love me, but right 
now I'm unsure what I feel.  Just meet me at the restaurant you took me to 
in a half hour and sit at the same booth.  Look, I gotta go, bye"

*Click*

"But Greg..." Frank's plea falls silent as the phone is hung up.   He realizes 
for once he is not in control of the game; he fucked and lost his heart, and 
with that, control of the ball.  He looks at his watch and moves back to the 
bathroom to get ready.

"Hello Mr.  Franklin, right this way. Mr. Jefferson has the table reserved; 
he said he will be here in a few minutes."

The young Asian waiter leads the visibly nervous Frank to his booth.

"Mr. Franklin, would you like a drink? Something to ease your nerves?"

"Huh...  ? Sure. Jack on the rocks, please."

The waiter leaves and quickly returns with a glass, and napkin.   He sets the 
napkin down, but before he can sit the drink on it Frank notices the writing 
on it.  He quickly snatches it.  Franks face freezes as he reads the note.

"Well Frank, you know the saying `you reap what you sow,' and you 
planted a nice seed in me.  One that deals with getting someone excited 
about finding love and a second chance at life, but then finds it's a lie.  I 
hope your disappointment tonight is just as painful as me seeing my picture 
on the net.  And by the way the police have been anonymously tipped to 
search the shelter's shower for hidden cameras in the nozzles, and if you 
weren't smart enough to remove the serial numbers, the cops should be 
right in front of you right now.  Remember, you created me."

Frank just looks up with tears in his eyes and mouths `I'm so sorry' as the 
cops cuff him and start the arrest process.


"In other news, in the Garment district of New York a man was arrested 
for dealing in child pornography; he was caught with the help of an 
anonymous tip."

Marcus sighs as the newscaster goes on about the arrest, and the bizarre 
note.  He continues to stroke the soft hair of Jason head while it rests 
sleeping in his lap.  Marcus looks down at the man he loves so much. 
Watching Jason sleep was always a happy thing for him, but he knows 
Jason's sleep just brings them both pain.  He can see the bad dreams Jason 
has in his sleeping face.   Marcus wonders why Jason is taking it harder 
than the other two siblings.  Could it be that only Jason understands what 
Greg is going through? Marcus just sighs that this type of thinking will only 
lead to more unanswered questions.  

He gently bends over and kisses Jason on his forehead.  Even in Jason's 
deep sleep he can tell Marcus's lips touched him, and smiles for a brief 
second, before the dream takes him back.
Marcus sees the smile then frowns when it leaves.  He sighs softly and 
yawns.  He lets his head fall back on the soft sofa in his "in-laws" living 
room.  


"Okay that's 120 dollars for a one way ticket to San Francisco, Mr.  
Robins.  Here's your ticket, gate 12 B."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Greg smiles to himself at how amazingly easy it was to get a believable 
fake I.D.  in this town.  

"I hope your family in San Francisco let you come back to this side of the 
country and visit  our city again, Mr. Robins.  I should tell you that they are 
reporting a slight delay at your gate. If you like we have a diner over there 
and a Coke machine to the right of it."

"Thanks for telling me, do I have the time to sit and read a paper?"

"I believe so; they'll call your gate number when the bus is ready."

Greg thanks the lady, and heads to the newspaper and Coke machines.  He 
looks at the paper, heading straight for the arrest page.  A sick smile forms 
on his face as his eyes lock on the name of Frank being arrested.  A weird 
warmth comes over Greg.  One that would make anyone else feel guilty, 
but somehow makes the new Greg feel even better.  He sips on the Coke as 
he cuts out the article, without ever letting that smile leave his face.

"Attention, passengers for Bus 12 B can now board.  Once again 
passengers for bus at gate 12 B can now board."

Greg looks up and sees the rest of the passengers head that way.   He picks 
up his back pack and coke, and heads to the gate.  As he gets on the bus he 
can see the bus is fairly empty; he sighs with relief realizing he will be able 
to have a seat by himself.  He moves near the back of the bus, throws his 
pack in the seat by the window, and plops down in the other seat.  He 
settles himself in as the driver starts his routine monologue.  Greg half 
listens to it as sleep starts to overtake him.  

"....  and I thank you again for riding with Greyhound."

"Huh...  ? what?"

Greg wakes up just the driver pulls into the bus terminal, and finishes his 
closing speech.  Greg looks around noticing that people are getting their 
stuff together.  He notices some new faces are on the bus that he didn't 
recognize.  He tries to think how long he has been asleep.  He finally 
decides to ask the lady with the baby in the next seat over where they are 
and what time it is.

As they get off Greg is amazed that he slept through two rest stops for 
over 8 hours, and that he is now in the south of the United States.  He 
looks at the little bus station they have stopped at for the next few hours.  
In painted red letters he sees `Welcome to Shreveport, Louisiana'. He  
looks around and notices that this bus station is on the edge of a decent 
size downtown and a river front.  His attention is quickly drawn to the old 
Gothic Catholic church as its bell rings signalling 12 noon.   He's amazed 
at how this building just seems to fit in even though it's surrounded by 
parking lots and small skyscrapers.  He hears a voice behind him.

"Kinda weird having a church like that in a downtown, huh?"

Greg turns around to see a young man standing there.  He studies the man, 
quickly sizing him up, and writes him off as not being a threat.

"Yeah kinda weird, but what gets me is that this downtown is on a river 
front."

"I know what you mean.  I grew up across that river in Bossier City. Both 
cities have their downtown on the river."

Greg nods at the guys need to make small talk.

"By the way my name is Jason. What's yours?"

Greg smiles weakly at the guy, but hearing the name Jason brings back a 
few painful memories of his family.  A group of people that Greg has so 
many mixed feelings about that it easily shows on his face.

"Hey man what's wrong? You okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine; it's just I knew someone once named Jason.  He was a 
great guy.  Anyway, my name is Greg.  It's nice to meet you.  So where 
you headed to, Jason?"

Jason smiles a little, and thinks of the plans he's made in the past two years 
since the accident, and how, finally, his life seems to be going somewhere.

"I'm going to California to start a new job, and hopefully a new life.  This 
town has too many memories for me.  What about you?"

Greg chuckles a little.  "Me too!  What part of California?

"I'm heading to northern California, the red wood country.  I'm gonna be a 
ranch hand."

"Cool, I'm going south though, heading to San Francisco.  I ain't got a job 
yet, but I'm sure I can find one.  How did you land a job like that?"

"Well..."

Jason kinda beats around the bush.  How is he going to explain reading a 
gay fiction story on the net, meeting the writer in a chat room, and then 
finding out that there really was a  kid in the story who got rich and opened 
up a camp for runaways?

"Well...  I saw an application on the net at the web site for the ranch and 
filled it out.  They liked my resume, and hired me."

"Sounds great, so what type of work will you be doing at the ranch?"

"I'm gonna be a ranch hand slash councilor.  It's camp that helps troubled 
teens.  It's kinda cool actually.  The kids come in on their own; no one 
makes them go, and they stay as long as they like."

Greg smiles at him in a cold manner.  He remembers the camp in New 
York they wanted to send him to.

"Hey Greg, relax.  I'm not looking for recruits.  Besides, dude, you look 
like you're doing okay.  This place is for people that need help."

Jason tries to change the subject before his own memories start in.

"Hey man, you hungry?  We have a bit of time before the other bus gets 
here."

"Yeah kinda, hey since you grew up here where the hell is a good place to 
eat in this town?"

Jason chuckles at his new found acquaintance's remark.

"Hmmm...   there's a pretty good restaurant up the street called "Blind 
Tiger".  It has decent food, but I hope you like Cajun?"

"Well I've never had Cajun; isn't that like burnt food?"

"NO! It's just extra spicy."

"Well then, lead the way."

Greg smiles as Jason starts to walk ahead.  He can't help but look at the 
country boy's butt in his tight Wrangler blue jeans and boots.  Greg kinda 
giggles to himself; `first I drool over a preppy guy that uses me, and now I 
get hot over a redneck.  Man I must really be fucked up!'

"Hey Greg, what's so funny?"

"OH....  ah...  nothing just thinking about something."

"I see--"

Jason slows his pace down a little to let Greg catch up and walk beside 
him.  

End of Chapter 6

End of Part 1: The New York Chronicle

Read Part 2 --  The Journey