Date: Mon, 26 May 2003 17:04:24 -0700
From: Loki Otaktay <sethoran@hotmail.com>
Subject: Next 2

here's chapter two.  chapter three should be up to bat pretty soon.

Disclaimers:  this story will contain sex (chapter three) between two
consenting parties (i.e. minor/adult adult/adult).  and it's gay sex, too.
so if you don't like that type of thing, or you aren't legally old enough to
be reading this, don't.



Next
Gabriel Duncan


TWO

Twenty-three-Seventy-One, Oak Street; this was my last assignment for today.
  My call into the office yielded no more files or deliveries.  The door was
finished in a nice wood color.  There was a large window starting from a few
inches above the handle.  Shades were pulled down most of the way, its
tassels and frills were calming.  A rectangular stained-glass rose piece was
in the window.  Tasteful.

Three knocks signaled my arrival.  It took a few moments, but the door
opened.  My jaw hit the floor.  Standing before me was a boy about my age
with handsomely messy black hair and striking green eyes.  I was in love.
Oh man, those muscles.  He was wearing a baggy shirt that somehow clung to
his body in all the right places.  It was because he was sweaty.  He must
work out.  Oh god, I could smell him.

"Hi!"  The boy smiled.  He had a splash of freckles on his nose.  "Are you
the guy that's supposed to drop off a folder?"

"I'm yours," Fuck!  "I mean, that's me."

I laughed nervously as he took the folder from me and checked the envelope.
Suddenly, I was presented with cash.  I was still gawking at him as I took
it blindly.  There was something about his touch.  His finger deliberately
dabbled its way across my wrist.

"Thanks, man," And then the door was closed.

My mind was reeling.  Did I just see what I thought I did?  Am I dead?  Was
that perfection or was I just dreaming?  Without thinking, I put the cash in
my pocket.  Did he give me a tip?  Was he flirting with me?  How the fuck
was I supposed to know?  The whole ordeal lasted a total of thirty seconds,
if that!  Get a fucking hold of yourself!

My cell phone rang, "Hello?"

"Hey cutie, it's Ted."  Fuck!



//



Ted was waiting for me out front.  We waved as I drove by him to park.  He
was without bondage pants this time.  But still very fuckable in a Hawaiian
shirt and khakis.  I wasn't really feeling up to talking to anyone at this
moment.  I was still too busy thinking about what I had seen at the Penshank
residence.

"Hey, dude," We hugged.

"What's up?"  He replied.

"Not much.  Just got finished dropping off some shit at a few people's
homes."

"Sounds fun."

"Oh yeah," I moved my hand up and down in my lap (in case you didn't know,
that's the universal sign of jacking off.)

He laughed and we stood in line.  We were in a Franchise Coffee House
(guess).  It was relatively new and very crowded.  The IKEA-style track
lighting and cheap wooden swirls and particle board coffee cups with
whimsical wisps of steam made me want to lash out at the people behind us
speaking in bourgeoisie terms of the studies of Jungian psychology.

"What are you getting?"  Ted asked me.

My eyes searched the menu . . . but I couldn't find what I wanted.  It was
somewhere in there.  "Umm . . . a blended beverage with tea and whipped
cream.  How about you?"

"My patented White Chocolate Mocha."  He grinned.

"Jesus, dude," I laughed, "Do you just drink those things all day?"

"Sometimes I get adventurous and try straight mocha."

"Livin' large, man, that's what it's all about."

We walked outside and sipped on our drinks.  I was never one to sit inside
and enjoy my beverage.  Our talk soon turned to my break-up with Alex.

"We were never really together," I tried to smile at him.

He sipped his drink quickly, "What do you mean?"

"We had sex all the time.  But . . . ."

"Yeah?"

"We were never a real thing."  I continued morosely, "We just . . . we just
had good times once in a while. "

"Why didn't you two make it official?"



//



"Hey babe," Alex kissed me.

Cut to another franchise coffee house on the other end of the same city:
Alex and I had been fucking almost every other day for three weeks now.  It
was good.  And I was happy.  I didn't know how he felt, though.  And that
was starting to get to me.

I was sitting outside at a table.  He showed up from inside the place with a
bottle of water.

"Sit down," I said.

"What's up?"  He asked.

"We have a pretty good friendship, right?"

He looked at me as if I had lost my mind, "Yeah."

"Do we have anything other than that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we've been fucking for three weeks now."

Alex nervously sipped at his bottle of water.

I continued, "I mean . . . do we have a relationship?  Like, are we
boyfriends?  Are we fuck buddies?  What going on, man?"

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?"  He looked exasperated.

I was exasperated.  "Do you want to be mine?"

"I don't think this is the right time for me to get into a relationship
right now.  I've got too many things going on."  He stood up, "I need to go.
  Mom paged me ten minutes ago and she's gonna have my ass if I don't go
home."

"Okay," I sat there and thought about what he had said.

In hindsight, I never noticed all the bullshit that he pulled on me.  Love
can be blinding.



//



"I tried to once."  Back to the franchise coffee restaurant sitting opposite
Ted.  "He didn't seem too receptive to the idea though.  Fuck, man, now I
know why."

"He was seeing someone else?"  Ted was hot on the trail of predictability.

"Some fucking rich bitch with a red mustang.  Fucking brand new piece of
shit."

"Tough break."

"What kind of car do you drive, by the way?"  I asked Ted.


"'98 Corolla," He grinned.

"Nice ride," I have a '95 Explorer, if that means anything to you.  It's
old, but it was free and it can fit all my friends.  The best part is the
tinted windows.  Oh so much privacy.

"When are you turning 18?"

"Next Friday," I looked at him, "Why?"

"Just wondering," He grinned.  "What are you doing to celebrate?"

"Well, my folks have conveniently decided to go out of town for the weekend
with my sister.  So I'm going to have a house party with a few close
friends."

"Sounds awesome."

Yeah, I know he was expecting to be invited.  However, the prospect of being
drunk and around him . . . .  Oh god.  Why shouldn't I invite him, again?
Oh yeah, I don't know him that well.  That's right, new rule, only sleep
with people you know.

"How's cooking school?"  He went to the California Culinary Academy in San
Francisco; a very respectable school, by the way.  The newest Iron chef, the
only American ever to receive that title, graduated from there.

"Going great!  I should be graduating in two more years."

"That's awesome, dude!"  My knee brushed his.

Ted smiled and sipped the last of his drink.  "Man, I'm hungry."

"Wanna go get a slice or something?"

"Why don't you just come over to my place?"  He looked hopeful.  Not
devious, as I would have thought.  "I can make us both some dinner."

Was this a ploy to get into my pants?  Granted, Ted was hot.  But I've had
some pretty bad experiences before.  Especially with older guys.  Well, Ted
wasn't that much older.  Ted is 19.  Shawn was 19 when he raped me.  I was
only 15.

I became uneasy under these thoughts, "I don't know.  My parents may want me
back sometime soon."

"Just dinner, dude."  Ted looked at me with pleading eyes.  "No funny,
stuff, I swear."

He crossed his heart, "Scout's honor."

I had to remind myself those events happened two years ago.  It's past and
done with.  I'm almost 18 now.  When I was 15, he was 16.  Big fucking deal.
  Those eyes.  That cute face.  How could I resist that?  What the hell.

"Okay," I agreed, "Lead the way."

He grinned and we both stood up.

"Where are you parked?"  We were in front of my car then.

"Three cars down."

----------------------------

chapter three is coming soon.
sethoran @ hotmail .com
comments, suggestions, flames ignored