Date: Thu, 10 Oct 2013 08:43:22 -0400
From: Chris Johns <chris-johns@hotmail.com>
Subject: Multiple Delights Ch.1

This is a crossgenerational love story, but the younger of the two men is
still over eighteen. A not unusual tale of a gay young man beseiged by
predators and who can't handle it, gradually sliding into a subservient
role he is unhappy with, until he meets his saviour.

The first chapter is quite short but I promise tosubmit the next one in two
days time. The story is complete in 13,156 words. Enjoy.

			     MULTIPLE DELIGHT
				 Chapter 1
			       I meet Jason

Getting old was getting frustrating, I was still very fit, felt much
younger than my years and worst of all, still fancied guys much younger
than myself. Of course there was no chance that any of them would fancy
me. I was the same age as their father's, which put me at least twenty
years outside their bracket for boyfriends. Consolation for me was that I
had retired early having made a fortune in oil when I was very young and
now worked for an organisation trying to help young men who were going off
the rails. Some were just old style bullies heading for a major
confrontation with the law, but others were just disturbed kids who
couldn't handle the world. The latter kind were the ones I had most contact
with. I think my supervisor knew that the bullies I just wanted to give a
good hiding to, but the others I so wanted to help.

England was supposed to be a fully integrated cosmopolitan and non
judgemental society. I knew it wasn't. The kids I dealt with were mainly,
Gay, Mixed Race, Catholic, with a few general screw ups thrown in to the
pot to keep me on my toes. The general screw ups were from broken homes
mainly and I bled for them. Torn between two warring parents who didn't
think about what they were doing to the kids really got to me. I sorted
many of them by giving the parents so much shit they got their act
together. Mixed race ones were difficult, they were rejected by both races
and ended up incredibly difficult to sort. Catholics were a group I wanted
to avoid, so many of the kids had been abused by their priest and had
parents who they couldn't talk to. A lot of them weren't gay which made it
so much worse for them. The group that I had most empathy with were the
young gay guys. Many of them had tremendous problems handling their
sexuality, mostly because of stupid parents, but a few because of peer
pressure. I worked hard to try to help all these groups and often went home
at night and cried myself to sleep, frustrated that I couldn't do more.

I sometimes wondered about my suitability for the job. I was gay, lonely
and very wealthy, my background was middle class and I had never had a
problem with my sexuality. How could I possibly relate to these kids who
were mainly from working class homes and a generation behind me? I didn't
know the answer but I did know I was good at my job, I guess caring was
pretty important.

Once I was established I had been allowed to redecorate my office and
furnish it the way I wanted. I had gone for a minimal size desk just to
keep my computer on and have my filing cabinets below. The remainder of the
room was easy chairs and a coffee table. The kids could relax in here, I
never sat behind a desk with them in front, it was always round a table
with me slurping coffee, (caffeine freak you see), and them, usually with a
soft drink from my fridge.  I was forty two when my life changed, mainly, I
realise now, for the better. At the time it almost terrified me. Jason was
a referral from Social Services, they could do no more for him, (read, he
was too difficult for those wastes of space to deal with).

He came into my office with a piece of paper, looking totally out of it. I
read the paper. Here was all my possible problems rolled into one. Black,
mainly, but mixed race, Roman Catholic and abused by his priest, Gay,
rejected by his family once his father had done a bunk and his mother had
died. He was living in a hostel and being preyed on by older inhabitants. I
could understand why, he was stunning.

The first shock to my system was that he wasn't belligerent.

"Hello Jason."

"Hello Sir."

I liked that, the kid was polite and quite well spoken.

"How old are you?"

"I'm nineteen Sir?"

"A Levels?"

"Yes Sir, four, all with A*."

"So tell me your problem."

He looked so sad I wanted to hug him.

"My parents family don't want me because I'm gay, my Priest won't help
because he always abused me when I was young. Blacks don't like me because
I'm half white, whites don't like me because I'm half black and nobody
likes me because I'm gay."

I just knew he had said those same words many times, it just came out too
easy but nothing was lost, he sounded hopeless.

"So what would you like me to do with you?"

"Give me a gun so that I can shoot myself."

I was shocked because he sounded as though he meant it.

"You live in a hostel, you are educated enough to get a job, I don't see
your problem."

He looked at me with big doleful eyes and said, very quietly so that I
barely heard him.

"I'm sorry to have troubled you then Sir, I'll go."

He got up to leave until I told him in a very commanding voice, to sit.

"Jason, I'm not a social worker, I do this because I care, I'm here because
I want to help you, not because I'm paid to."

I think that he realised I was different then because I saw him relax.

"Tell me what your real problem is and what I can do to help, short of
getting you a gun."

He looked at me and smiled.

"I don't really want to die, Sir, but I get so depressed being hit on all
the time in the hostel, I just want somewhere to live where I can be in
peace."

The words weren't eloquent but the tone told me how desperate he was to get
out of an environment where he was just a sex toy, of course I realised
there was something else but that could wait. I had several spare bedrooms,
my house was huge and I had to admit I was getting tired of rocking around
it by myself. The boy was gorgeous, he was intelligent, easy to talk to
even if he didn't unload all that much information, and I had no
aspirations to get into his pants, mainly because I thought he wouldn't
want it, not because I didn't want it.  I reread his file while he sat
quietly in front of me, then I made a decision.

"I've never done this before, but how would you like to come and live with
me. You'll have your own room and bathroom, only me to contend with, and I
promise I won't be knocking down you door every five minutes to rape
you. When you are settled we can look at employment possibilities and get
you established independently."

He looked quizzically at me and asked.

"Are you gay, Sir?"

"Yes, Jason, but not all gays are predators."

"I think I'd like that."

I am writing this years after this incident took place, I wondered
sometimes if I hadn't taken on too much, but then I look at the man that
Jason has become and I know I made the right decision.

I will tell you in the next chapter how Jason and I became so good for each
other's psyches.

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