Date: Mon, 12 Jun 2006 14:14:16 -0700
From: Ryan Miller <bluedragon314@gmail.com>
Subject: Bonding Energy: Opportunity Cost ch 8

This might be my last one for a while. I am going to camp over the summer
and will not have the time for writing as much. But I will try.

Disclaimer:
This is a homoerotic story I have written, so if you aren't allowed
legally, morally or ethically to read it, then don't. And don't post this
anywhere else without my expressed permission. Feedback is very much
encouraged, so hit me up at bluedragon314@gmail.com

Ch. 8


"I'm going to need more details. I want to help, but I can't if you don't
tell me anything," said Peter as he laid on James couch, absentmindedly
throwing a tennis ball into the air.

I was sitting in the recliner trying my damnedest not to tell him
everything I knew about William. I had asked him for help about
relationships and didn't want him to know it was about a gay dancer /
prostitute. It's kind of like asking your doctor to treat a sore joint and
not telling him which one it is.

I had gone to Peter because James wasn't in a talkative mood. He hadn't
been since Tuesday, and it was Monday of the next week. After I
confronted him in the kitchen, he shut down. He would still go to work
and drop me off at school, but in his free time would just go up to his
room and brood. Something I'd said really put him in a funk, and he had
zero intentions of letting me know what it was.

And then William started acting all weird (again). He was fine until that
morning. The previous six days had been great. I found out he was capable
of a great deal of happiness, and it made me so happy knowing he had a
reason to smile. Smiles from William had been so rare and, the few I saw,
I cherished. I don't think I had ever seen a more beautiful boy. The
spirit in his green eyes was so playful and he would grin every time he
looked over at me.

And he was pretty smart. He knew a lot about Tokugawa Japan and proved to
be a surprisingly good public speaker during our presentation. We both
got A's and both did our fair share of the work.

And he was so affectionate. He would lightly lean up against me in poli
sci, especially when the lights went out for a movie, and rest his head
on my shoulder. I nearly melted Sunday night when we watched Spirited
Away at my house. James never bothered coming downstairs after we got
there, so we made full use of the couch. I sat with William's head in my
lap and gently ran my fingers through his shining, black hair. I made a
comment about how he looked like Haku and his giggle nearly turned me
into a puddle on the couch.

He took hold of my hand as it rested at his side and said, "Thanks."

I didn't know what for, and I didn't ask either. Instead, I laid down on
the couch and held him to my chest, and he snuggled in closer. A fire in
my heart was ignited and spread throughout the rest of my body as I held
him, knowing that I was protecting him from the fiends in the dark that
surrounded his life. I felt like a guardian angel as I held him tighter
and we fell asleep.

That morning, I was bereft when I woke up with cold, bare arms. I thought
back to the previous night, hoping it wasn't just a dream. The case for
Spirited Away was lying open on the coffee table and next to it was a
note. I leaned forward and picked it up and it said, "Sorry I had to
leave. I had to go to work. Thank you for a wonderful night. You're such
an awesome guy." I must have read the last part a million times, hearing
William's voice in my head say "You're such an awesome guy," over and
over.

When James came downstairs, I began to stuff the note in my pants pocket.
But, it being a note of considerable magnitude as far a glee goes, I
folded it carefully and hid it inside the Spirited Away case. The last
thing I needed was to have James find a pseudo love note from another guy
to me. I mean, William never made any declarations of love, but being
told you're an awesome guy can mean so many wonderful things.

I was very impatient to see my couch-mate that morning in creative
writing, but he never showed up. In his place was the hoodie-sporting,
angst-wielding William I had first met and held in contempt. He did his
best to ignore me as he took a seat on the other side of the classroom.
It was obvious he'd had a rough night at the club.

After class, I ran out to the hall to see if I could console him, but he
ignored me, even after I called out his name. I confronted him as he was
walking out to the parking lot and asked him what the problem was.

"You're the problem!" was his sharp response. "You get into my head and
make me think and feel ways I was never supposed to. I'm a whore, or
don't you remember? I'm not supposed to get a boyfriend or fall in love
or any of that crap. As long as I do what I'm told, I'll be safe, safe
from boys like you who just want to break my heart!"

As he was rebuking me, I started to feel numb. It was like an out of body
experience where I knew what was happening and could see it happening,
but it didn't really feel like it was happening to me. It didn't really
feel at all, which frightened me.

"Just leave me alone, ok?" he said. "It'll be better for both of us."

He walked off into the parking lot towards the football field. Nothing
was out there, but I don't think he was as focused on where he was going
as much as whom he was leaving.

My mind couldn't accept what had just happened and I stood there trying
to come to terms with what looked and felt just like a breakup.

'Was it just another emotional outburst? Did he just have a really
terrible night? Will I ever get to hold him again? Did last night mean
nothing at all? Am I no longer an awesome guy?'

My body shook as I held back the rush of emotions surging out of my
shattered heart. I wanted to cry out at the top of my lungs and tell the
whole world that I just had my heart ripped out--again--but I remembered
that heartbreak can heal and that I just needed to focus on the healing
and not the pain. The sooner I healed, the sooner I wouldn't feel so
betrayed.

I could barely make it home on the bus without bawling my eyes out. I
commanded my tears to turn off since they would only make the pain real,
palpable. The pain was useless because it wouldn't help me get over
William.

I walked inside our house and congratulated myself for making it that far
without letting the pain grow. I saw the Spirited Away case in the living
room and decided I would go switch it for a movie that would help me
ignore what had just happened, even thought I couldn't stop thinking
about the breakup. But as I opened the case to put the DVD away,
William's none fell to the floor and I lost it.

I fell to my knees, buried my face in the couch cushions and screamed my
broken little heart out. I was so tired from fighting my emotions all
that afternoon that there was nothing I could do to stop them. My body
heaved with every sob as my inhibitions loosed their stranglehold on my
feelings. I felt so betrayed that he had led me on only to stomp all over
my heart like that. I wanted to lash out at him, but couldn't let myself
feel that way because I wanted to protect him. I wanted nothing more at
that moment than to be able to hold him like I had the night before. I
held on to the DVD case tightly like I had held William, but it was no
comfort.

As I sobbed, I wanted to know what I had done wrong. I wanted to know how
I had pushed him away. I was so very convinced that he was the boy for
me. I mean, if I could have handpicked a boyfriend, it would have been
William. The way he needed someone to care and the way I needed someone
to care for made us a perfect match.

"WHY!?" was all I could scream as I cried into the couch.

It was usually about that time that James would walk in and save the day,
put his arms around me and fulfill his big-brotherly duties as a
comforter. But he was at work, and I was alone with my tears.

Then the phone on the end table rang. I almost didn't answer, but knew I
needed company where I could find it. I wiped my face with my sleeve and
picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Hey, it's Peter. Can I come over?" he asked.

"Sure," I said, with a big sniffle.

"Are you ok?" he asked. "You don't sound like yourself.

I was about to brush him off and insist it was allergies or something
lame like that, but thought that I needed to be with someone since I was
sans-James and was likely to keep crying until someone got there. I told
him that I had just had my heart broken and he insisted he would be there
in 10 minutes.

Eight and a half minutes later, a sweaty Peter arrived on his bike and
walked to the door. He told me I looked terrible as he stepped inside and
followed me to the living room. I plopped down in my recliner, relieved
that I had someone to talk to, but was paralyzed when I realized I would
have to tell him it was William who had torn my heart asunder.

When he asked what had happened, I told him all about a beautiful boy who
had gotten really close to me only to realize I was getting too close and
decided to tear apart our relationship. He kept asking for details, and I
kept refusing him.

"It's pretty obvious William is the other guy," he said, catching the
tennis ball and throwing it up again. "You're not exactly good at hiding
your feelings."

I thought about arguing, but just said, "Yeah, it's William."

"And what would make Willy tweak out like that?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking you."

"Well, I don't know. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before."

"No girl's ever come up to you out of the blue and decided to call off a
relationship?"

"Actually, I have more of a problem with girls trying to start
relationships than ending them."

"I'm just so confused. I...I hate him for hurting me. I want to run up to
him and tell him what a selfish ass he is for breaking my heart. He let
me show him all that affection and had no real intention of giving any of
it back! He led me on, knowing it would end!"

I tried hard not to cry again, but no amount of cringing could hold back
the tears.

"Dude, you're making a huge deal out of this."

"It is a huge deal! I finally find a boy I like who likes me back and
then he just leaves me for no good reason at all. And I'm trying to let
him go, but I can't. A huge part of me wants to be close to him again."

"Why do you want to be close to someone who would hurt you like that?"

"You don't just call off a relationship because someone hurts you."

"But why run after someone who is running away?"

"I don't think it's me he's running away from."

Peter lost his concentration and let the ball fall and hit him in the
face.

"Wait, are you talking about a threesome? I don't want any details if you
are."

"It's not a threesome, you idiot."

"Then who else is he running from?"

"Whoever it is, you have to fight them," said James, standing by the foot
of the stairs. He had recently come home and was still in his blue
business suit. "Remember that love is a battlefield. You have to fight
whatever stands in your way, if it's another guy--or even yourself--you
have to fight them."

"What the hell are you talking about, James?" I asked.

"When you love someone, whoever hates that person is going to try and
stop you from loving them," he responded. "Whatever part of you hates
William right now, you have to fight it." And with that, he went upstairs
to his room.

Peter looked over at me with the same puzzlement I was feeling.

"Is that something he usually does?" he asked.

"Yeah, but he usually makes more sense," I said, leaning back in my
recliner. "I don't know what his problem is. He's been in a major funk
for a while."

"Well, he does kind of make sense, if you think about it."

"You can't be serious."

"I mean, I'm pretty sure you won't have to put on any war paint and
declare, 'You can take my life, but you'll never take my William!' But if
something, or someone, is hurting him, you should help him get rid of it,
or them."

"Life hurts him. His family, his lack of friends, his job, especially his
job."

"What does he do?"

"Uh, he's a dancer at this gay club downtown and he hates being treated
like a piece of meat."

"What? Really? Well, that explains a lot. But if he hates working there,
why doesn't he just quit?"

"His boss won't let him. He treats the dancers like property."

"I bet his boss did it."

"Did what?"

"Made William dump you. Guys who are that controlling get really jealous.
My cousin, Ronnie, is the same way. He used to treat his girlfriends like
that, even after he stopped dating them. He didn't stop until one of the
other boyfriends beat the daylights out of him. He had to eat through a
straw for weeks."

"So, I'm just supposed to beat up William's boss?"

"Not literally. You can just give him a tongue lashing--a piece of your
mind."

"I'm sure a genial chat will solve all of William's problems."

"Remember what James said, 'You have to fight whatever is in your way.'
And, if this boss is in your way, you have to fight him. If anything,
it'll show Willy how much you care."

*****

It sounded like the two of them had seen Braveheart a few too many times,
but that's not why I was on a bus headed for downtown. Peter was right
about showing William how much I care. Something--or someone--had
convinced him otherwise and I needed to prove that I wasn't out to hurt
him; that I really did care. And if it was Mr. Stone's fault, I was going
to give him one hell of a sharp piece of my mind.

I'd dressed up like Aaron and Brian had told me to, with hair gel and a
wife-beater and everything. And my hands still smelled like the gel that
had been sitting under the sink ever since James had bought it in bulk,
even though the stickiness was gone. I hated having sticky hands.

And I hadn't thought about what I was going to say to Mr. Stone, assuming
I would get to talk to him. I was not at all intent on changing his mind
or turning him into a better person. He didn't sound like the kind of guy
who would embrace a "come to Jesus" moment. But I was going to use what
Brian and Aaron had told me about assertion: go with the flow. I just
hoped the flow wouldn't land me in the bottom of a river or something.

As I stepped off the bus, the cold night air bit at my bare arms and I
kicked myself for not bringing a jacket. It was about midnight and I
could hear chatter from the direction of the club. I held my arms close
to my chest to retain what little warmth I could and started walking down
the street.

When I turned the corner to face Club Chico, I was surprised to see a
line stretching around the block, and my favorite bouncer standing
proudly in front of the door. I guess midnight was the right time to go
clubbing. Some people in line looked like me (kind of) and were dressed
to party and impress. But some businessmen and older guys, trying hard
not to stand out, dotted the line and my lunch started swimming laps in
my stomach as I thought about why they were really there.

I hated standing in lines, and I still didn't have an "official" ID, so I
walked around the block to the back alley, where I'd first met the real
William. Tom was there again, leaning against the wall and taking a drag
on his cigarette. When I walked up to him, he looked at me cockeyed and
said, "Hey, you were here a couple of weeks ago. You're Will's friend,
right?"

"Kind of, that's why I'm here," I replied.

"Well, he's on duty until 2:00, so you can't see him right now," he said.

"I'm not here for William," I said. "I'm here to talk to Edmund Stone."

Tom started coughing, but it wasn't because of the smoke.

"Honey, you need to talk to Eddie like you need a hole in your head," he
said.

"I'm not here for a job," I told him. "I need to talk to him about the
way he's treating William."

Tom stood with his hand propping up his elbow as his cigarette smoldered.
He looked me up and down and said, "You're as dangerous as he thought you
were. Here, follow me,"

He turned around and entered his code on the keypad and the lock clicked
open. He held the door open and asked, "Are you sure you know what you're
getting into?"

"Not really," I said, stepping in.

"That's ok," he said closing the door. "I didn't, either."

*****

The hand of a thuggish Brit with a tacky, blond ponytail gripped my
shoulder as I rode up an elevator, on my way to meet Mr. Stone. My body
tingled with fear and it felt like my knees would give any moment. I
didn't want to meet this guy, this despicable human being. But curiosity
is what really drove me, in a Heart of Darkness sort of way. I had always
heard of abusive, controlling pimps but now I was about to see one, one
that had come between me and William.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened to reveal a dark, wide office
with a wall of windows on the far side overlooking the floor of the club.
Outside the windows, colorful, flashing lights shone from the ceiling
onto the club floor and the pounding rave music was muffled by the black
walls of the office. And in front of the windows, surveying the patrons,
stood a tall man with broad shoulders and black, slicked back hair.

"Mr. Stone," said the thug. "this bloke says 'e needs to 'ave a word with
you."

"Thank you, Robert," said the hollow voice of Mr. Stone, keeping his
watch over the club. "Jerome, please seat our guest."

Robert pushed me out into the office and closed the elevator doors. A
pretty, young redhead in tight black pants and nothing else stepped out
of a dark corner by a small window facing the outside. He walked up to a
long, black desk in the middle of the room and pulled out one of the two
plush leather chairs in front of it for me.

"Thank you," I said.

"No thanks required," said Stone, still staring through the glass. "It's
his job."

Jerome stepped back to his corner and stood with his hands held tightly
at his side.

"Please sit down, Mr. Wilson," said Stone. "It would appear we have much
to discuss."

"How did you know my name?" I asked as I sat down

Stone turned around and I saw his sinister face. Not all was sinister,
for he was actually quite handsome and probably late in his 30s. But his
eyes looked like a predator's, like a tiger plotting his next kill. And
he smirked like he knew something dangerous that you didn't, and he had
no intention of telling you what it was.

"You match Will's pleasant description," he said, sitting down is his
tall chair behind the desk. "Whores gossip, you know. The word around the
dressing room has been that Will has found a caring, compassionate and
not the least bit unattractive young man who seeks to steal his heart.
What they didn't know is what you intend to do to his heart."

"I intend to keep it from creeps like you," I said, feeling more and more
enraged. It had been Stone who tried to tear William away from me.

"A creep, am I?" he said. "However do you mean?"

"You abuse him," I said. "You treat him like property and make his feel
worthless. He hates working for you."

"Now, why must you lie?" he said. "All my boys love me. If they didn't,
they would work elsewhere. And sometimes they meet selfish boys like you
who want to tell them that being a whore is wrong and disgraceful. You
are the one who treats him like he's worthless and less than a person
just because he gets to fuck for a living."

This guy was making me sick. Everything he said was slimy and caustic and
I could barely stand to be in the same room with him.

"I'm not selfish," I refuted. "I want to help him. He's had a terrible
life and it's all because of people like you who don't give a damn. It's
bad enough that his family is in shambles and then he has to come to work
and have sex he doesn't even want."

Stone laughed a deep, vile laugh. He pushed his chair back and Jerome,
needing no other signal, walked over, ducked under the desk and my mouth
hung open in utter disbelief as I heard Stone's pants get unzipped.

Stone got comfortable in his chair and said, "Let me explain something to
you about sex, Mr. Wilson. It's a drug. It makes you think, feel and act
ways you never would otherwise. And most people can become addicted quite
easily. But unlike the other drugs I sell, it's the only natural one. It
takes the emotions you are already feeling and brings them to the
surface. It doesn't make you feel good like heroine or cocaine, it lets
you feel good.

"Will is a very happy boy, but is not always able to feel that way. But
here at the club, he is able to escape the world that makes him unhappy
and release all the good feelings that have been hiding inside him. No
matter how bad he feels, a quick cock-suck makes him right a rain. And
you want to take all that away from him like a selfish little boy."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, or what was happening two feet in
front of me. My mind had left my body like it had earlier that day, but
this time I was glad to escape. With every sinister glance Stone gave me,
with every slurp that gave me images I wanted to gouge out of my mind, I
felt sicker and sicker.

"You look a little green, Kyle," said Stone with a broad grin. "Feeling
sick, or just realizing how much you were hurting Will?"

"You're a monster," was all I could say without throwing up.

Stone slammed his fist on the desk and his body went rigid. "I make boys
feel accepted! I give them a place where they belong, where they are
safe! I show them love that the world refuses to show them!"

He took a deep breath and leaned his head back in the chair as he sighed.
He pushed his chair back and Jerome got out from under the desk and went
back to his corner.

As he leaned forward and smoothed his hair back, Stone asked me, "Would a
monster do those things, Mr. Wilson?"

That was all that I could take. I got out of my chair and stumbled to the
elevator, trying to keep myself together. The elevator took forever to
come up as I mashed the button. Stone just laughed and said, "The truth
can be hard to stomach."

"You wouldn't know truth if it bit your dick off, you slimy bastard," I
said as I stepped into the elevator and mashed the button for the first
floor.

I leaned my face against the cool wall of the elevator, trying to stave
off the dizzying nausea that made me sweat. I had just witnessed the most
vulgar thing I could think of, and what made it worse was see the kinds
of things like that he did to William.

The elevator reached the bottom floor and I stumbled as fast as I could
back through the hall past rows of dressing booths and dancers towards
the back door.

Tom saw me coming and asked "Hey, how'd it go?"

But I ran past him and pushed open the door in time to puke on the floor
on the alley.

"Don't worry. That's typical. You'll get over it by the morning," said
Tom as he shut the door behind me and I heaved even more of my dinner
onto the empty street.

I had vomit up my nose, which usually really bugged me, but I could care
less since I was still in shock at the gruesome behavior William had to
deal with. I knew it was bad, but never could I have realized how
horrible it really was.

I felt a wad of paper hit my back and fall on the ground next to my feet.
I looked up and see a window close on the brick wall of the alley. I
reached down and picked up the note and, in rushed, sloppy handwriting,
it said, "Thanks for standing up for William. He needs it more than the
rest of us. Don't let go of him."

I never wanted to let go of him. From the afternoon at his house when I
held him while he cried, I never wanted to let go of him. And, after
meeting Edmund Stone, I wanted to hold him more gently and firmly than I
ever had, and no amount of slimy deception was going to stop me.

*****

If you want to read more of the story sooner, I have started posting it
at www.awesomedude.com as well and new chapters usually make it there
before they get to Nifty. There is also a forum at AD for feedback, so
e-mail me at bluedragon314@gmail.com or join the forum and tell me what
you think.