Date: Mon, 19 Dec 2005 20:18:57 +0000 (GMT)
From: Nathan Marks <nathan7new@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: James Chapter 4

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between adults and children. If you find this kind of material offensive,
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I hope you enjoy this story.


James: Chapter 4


James and Tom sat for almost an hour as James explained how his mother had
died; described her and their close relationship; the actions of the people
at the hospital, the social workers and the staff at the children's
home. Finally James explained that none of them had asked him what he
wanted. At that point he once again broke down in tears. Tom reached out a
hand and gently grasped the boy's shoulder, offering support and comfort,
without getting too close, or crowding him. It was obvious that he should
call the police and have them return the boy to the home, but equally
obvious that this was the last thing James wanted to happen. What to do?
He had absolutely no idea. After a few more moments it occurred to him that
the only thing he could do was ask James what he wanted to do now.

"James, I'm really sorry about everything that has happened to you. I lost
my parents when I was young, but I still had my grandfather, so I can't
image how hard this has been for you, but I have to ask you a hard
question. Are you up to a hard question?"

James looked up, wondering what Tom could possibly want to ask, so he just
nodded.

"OK: so I understand that you don't want to go back to the children's home,
but what do you want to do? Where do you want to go?"

James understood: neither Tom nor anyone else could possibly make things
right again, so what was James going to do now? He let his head drop till
he was gazing at his feet. He hadn't thought this through that far. He knew
what he didn't want, but what were his options? He looked up and the most
he could manage was a shrug.

Tom was lost. He had no idea what to do next. The boy wouldn't stay around
if he suggested the police or the home so what could he do. Were there any
other options? He had no idea. He sat watching James swing his legs. There
was definitely a cute charm about the boy. He was articulate and obviously
intelligent, but short of just abandoning him to a life on the streets or
calling the authorities, what could Tom do? He wrestled with the idea of
just finding a policeman. The right thing to do: the last thing the boy
wanted. Oh dear. Wasn't his life complicated enough? Then he reprimanded
himself for being so selfish. What were his problems compared to the boy's?
Well: it was late Friday night and little could probably be done at this
time of night anyway so... so what? Where was this line of thought leading?
The boy was still upset, dirty and wet. Shit! He sighed as he came to his
decision.

"OK. I honestly don't know what to do about your situation, but it's late,
your wet and probably very tired, so the best I can do for tonight is offer
you my sofa to sleep on and we'll talk tomorrow and try to work something
out. How does that sound as an emergency plan?"

James stared at Tom. All the warnings about strangers flashed through his
mind again, but honestly, he was so tired and emotionally drained, and this
was the first person that had actually listened to him, he would probably
have gone with him even if he'd had fangs.

They left the station and went down into the Charring Cross tube station.
Tom didn't know whether to try to hold the child's hand or not, so he just
pretended that James was another adult and left it to the boy to keep up
with him. Once in the Tube station, he paid for their tickets and led the
way down to the Bakerloo line.  The overhead signs on the platform said the
next train would arrive in just 1 minute. The signs were always pretty
accurate. He turned to look at the boy. James stood just about shoulder
height, though, as his hair was so messy, it was hard to say whether that
was accurate or not. He was cute. Dirty, untidy and wet, yes, but
definitely cute. A few more years and he would have gangs of girls chasing
him.  The boy just stood next to him, close enough that Tom could smell the
dampness of his clothes. Just then a distant rumble from far down the
tunnel drew both their attention to the black hole at the end of the
platform. Moments later the Tube train appeared and drew up in front of
them, the doors swishing open.

Seated on the tube, the two of Tom asked a string of trivial questions to
get James talking. What football team do you support? Westham. Where did
you live before? Camden. What kind of music do you like? Eminem, Busted and
Queen. What is your favourite food? Pizza Hut pizzas. Where did you go on
holiday last year? Brittany, France. What subjects do you like at school?
Music and Science.  It wasn't exactly a flowing conversation, but Tom was
getting to know James a bit better and James had finally sat back and
seemed to be relaxing a little. It wasn't long before they reached Oxford
Circus and Tom led the way off the train, up the escalator and eventually
out into the night. They turned and began walking up Great Portland
Street. Tom's new home was two stories of an Edwardian Town house. The
ground floor was a shop; the next two floors, one apartment and the top two
floors were Tom's own personal building site. It took them another ten
minutes to get up past Starbucks and to the entrance to Tom's building.

Tom took his key-card out of his wallet and passed it through a reader and
then punched a code on the pad next to it. The building had great security,
one of the things that had attracted Tom to it. It was also just a few
doors up from Starbucks: a big plus. One of the double doors hissed and
swung back into the lobby. James followed Tom in. The Doors were
impressive; all smoked glass in a brass frame, but the lobby was like a
mini oasis, with palms and ferns standing down each side, in front of
mirrors that reflected them and made it look as though the beige carpet ran
through the middle of a jungle. At the end of the carpet was a wide
staircase, but Tom stopped just before it and pressed the call button for
the lift.

"You live here?" James stood in awe of the luxurious décor.  "Yep. For a
few months now, but my place is more of a mess. When I bought it everything
was pink and red so I had it gutted. They have finished the bathroom and
the lounge; the kitchen is just about useable even though they still have a
lot to finish in there and I had them bring my bed into a corner of the
lounge so they could finish the bedrooms. It's been a mess for weeks now,
but hopefully everything will be sorted in about two weeks time."  "It's
like a hotel."  "Well, since the buildings were renovated a couple of years
ago, the lobby serves two buildings, mine and the one next door, so there
are a total of four apartments using it."  "All this and a lift, just for
four houses?"  "Yep. I guess I should use the stairs, but having a lift has
made me lazy." Just then the lift pinged and the door slid back to reveal
an equally luxurious interior. They rode up Tom's and the doors slid back
again. The landing was a large marble oval with the stairs at one end, the
lift one side, a door the other and Tom's door at the opposite end to the
stairs. In between each of those four points was a stretch of white
plastered wall and in the middle of each wall were two pillars framing a
niche in the wall. In each niche was a four-foot statue, each a different
Greek god. Tom used his key-card again and again entered a code in the
keypad.  His white panelled door clicked and he pushed it open.

Laying the length of the inner hall were pieces of rough timber, cartons of
ceramic tiles, boxes of screw and nails and tins of paint. Just has Tom had
described it: it was a building site. They picked their way through the
mess to a door at the end of the hall.  As James followed Tom through the
door, the lounge beyond came into view. It was the biggest lounge James had
ever seen. Two large cream sofas were lined up on each side of a huge deep
pile rung and at one end of that was an enormous stone fireplace on a
raised marble plinth. At the end of the fireplace were three steps up to a
raised multimedia sitting room and the space in the corner of the L shaped
room was laid out as a dinning area with a huge glass topped table and ten
chairs. Everything was on a grand scale and the mix of marble floors, cream
and white walls and pillars just made the space seem even larger.  Pushed
right into the far corner of the multimedia sitting room was Tom king-size
bed.

At the end of each sofa was a lamp on a round glass topped end table with a
lamp. Tom walked over in the dim light provided by the street lamps outside
and switched on both table lamps. The soft light seemed to make the room
instantly warmer. James just stood, taking in every corner of this
luxurious space. It was like some pop stars lounge and he was here in it.

"OK. I think first thing we need to do it get out of these wet clothes. How
d'you feel about a bath or a shower, while I go and find something else for
you to wear?"  "OK", James didn't know what else to say. He followed Tom
back into the hall, up some stairs and into the bathroom. If he had thought
the lounge was amazing, the bathroom was another world. A sunken bathe sat
in a marble plinth, overlooked by huge marble and brass fireplace. The bath
was large enough for four people at once! On one side of the huge room was
a glass shower enclosure that was about as large as James' whole
bathroom. Across the deep pile carpet was a Christmas tree.

"Why have you got a Christmas tree in your bathroom?"  "Well, this was the
first room they finished and a friend sent the tree as a present, so the
only place I could put it and not be in the way of the builders was in
here." Tom set the bath running and walked off to a closet beyond the
shower. He came back with two huge fluffy white towels. "Well, I'll leave
you to get undressed and just jump in the tub when you're ready. You don't
have to fill the bath because that takes ages; just run enough to cover
your legs. I'll pop in when I find something for you to put on. OK?"  "OK."
James turned to look at Tom. This man was kind. This man must be rich as
well. Tears flooded into James' eyes as he watched Tom walk out the door. A
few hours ago he had wanted to die. Perhaps he had and this was heaven?
After a few moments he remembered the bath. He peeled off his jumper and
tee-shirt together. They were so wet that they clung together and seemed to
stick to him, resisting his pulling. He eventually managed to peel them
off, but as he touched his smooth lily-white chest, it felt damp and
clammy. He undid his belt and trouser fly and peeled them down, along with
his small white briefs, till they reached his ankles. He sat on the first
step of the sunken bath to pull off his shoes, but the marble was so cold
it made him jump up again. He sat on the floor, pulled off his shoes and
socks and then eased his trousers and pants over his feet.

He stood up again and climbed over the edge of the bath and down into the
hot swirling water. It had already reached as far as his knees so he turned
off the taps and then sat down. The bath was so big that when he lay back
he could actually lie flat on his back and stretch out. The hot water began
to warm him up and his cold damp and sore muscles started to relax. He
reached out and took a large bar of soap and, starting with his arms, began
to lather himself up. He took his time, enjoying the heat transferring from
the water into his body. His arms now covered in soap lather, he started on
his chest. The soap lather felt creamy and he rubbed it around and around
making circles on his flat tummy, down his sides and into the water. He
stood up to work his legs and buttocks and groin, covering every part in a
deep lather.

Just them Tom came back into the bathroom holding one of his own white
tee-shirts for the boy to wear. What he saw took his breath away. There,
standing covered in soft white soap lather, was the most beautiful site he
had ever seen. Tom had had a few girlfriends and he appreciated their
looks, but he had never realised just how beautiful a person could
look. The flat tummy; the long slim legs, the firm round bum and his
face.. oh, his face, framed by golden locks stuck flat to his forehead by
the water. Naked in his bath was a god: Adonis in the flesh, or, with the
white lather covering almost all of the boy's body, he could have been a
Greek statue made out of the finest Corinthian marble. He swallowed
hard. Should he even be looking at a naked child like this? This was
perverted, wasn't it? What was he doing? He put the tee-shirt on a chair
near the door, thankful that James had not heard him enter. He turned and
quickly left.

Blissfully unaware of the turmoil he was causing his host; James once again
sank below the warming water, slowly rubbing off the lather and the last of
the damp clammy ache he had felt earlier. This was heaven! Everything
seemed better. The only thing still missing was his mum. As his thoughts
drifted back to her his spirits faltered once again and salty tears ran
down his cheeks, but, although there was still an aching loss, he did not
feel as helpless as he had sitting in the photo booth. God, fate or luck
had sent a nice man to make things better. James just had to make sure that
Tom knew he would do anything not to have to go back to the home.

MORE TO COME...