Date: Fri, 11 Nov 2005 11:11:52 +0000 (GMT)
From: Mike Arram <mikearram@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Chav Prince 15

This is my fourth attempt at gay erotic fiction.  The earlier ones are 'The
Decent Inn' and 'Terry and the Peachers' which can be found in the Nifty
archive under the College section, and 'The Heart of Oskar Prinz' in
Beginnings.  The earlier ones provide the texture and back story to this
one, but it stands on its own.
  The story contains graphic depictions of sex between young males.  If the
reading or possessing of such material as this is illegal in your place of
residence please leave this site immediately and do not proceed further.
If you are under the legal age to read this, please do not do so.


XV


June passed into July.  Against everybody's expectations Justin's
determination not to smoke held for a while.  His temper was often foul as
a result, but Nathan was more than willing to put up with it.  He did start
fighting back in his own way: refusing to be hurt by argument and taking to
making subversive comments, that as often as not defused the problem.
  They had a routine by now.  Justin and Nathan were a permanent gardening
team, as Mr Anderson had finally recognised the nature of the link between
them.  He said nothing about it, and didn't seem really to mind, but he was
careful of which teams he put them with.  Like a good manager, he knew
which of his workers would be uncomfortable with gay workmates.  He never
put them with the other two boy apprentices, which saddened Justin and
Nathan a little.  The other workers also had picked up the rumour, and once
or twice they got half-humorous comments about their relationship.  But
Nathan was very popular with the others, and Justin was becoming popular,
because he was turning into such a hard and steady worker.  So they were
never at any time made to feel resented.
  Andy was mostly around Highgate, working from Matt's office there, while
Matt was at his offices in Camden most days.  They reunited for dinner, and
Justin was learning to value these meals very much.  There was something
indefinably resonant of real family life about them; Matt and Andy usually
had a lot to say about their days and even for Justin it was interesting.
Afterwards they quite often sat round and watched TV, with Justin curled
up, his head in Andy's lap.  It was a position he got quite to like, as he
knew it made Andy go all soppy and paternal, and he had now a desire to
please his fosterparents.  Once or twice a week they went out for a film,
or an evening at a pub or one of the discrete north London clubs.  Other
times he and Nathan hit the gym or the pool.  It was a secure and
comfortable life and he liked it, very much.
  Justin was changing and growing.  Physically he was filling out and
getting stronger, as advancing adolescence and the gardening work had its
inevitable effect.  But emotionally too he was changing.  Flare-ups were
slowly becoming rarer as his metabolism shifted and his hormones stopped
partying quite so hard.  His language too was changing towards the softer
tones and accent of his lover.  There was nothing now left of the Animal of
Seven Sisters.  Andy looked at him one day and saw a tanned, fit, mature
and socially confident young man, and no longer a pinched and aggressive
urchin.  He smiled to himself and kissed Justin as they passed in the hall.
When Justin looked at him surprised, he grinned and said, 'You look so
good, kid.  Proud of you.'  Justin almost succeeded in looking bashful.
  One Saturday the boys slept late, as usual, and Justin came down the
stairs to be confronted by another dark young man coming up them, it was
Tim Caird, who did a double take.
  'That you, Justy?'
  'It is.'
  'Wow ... who waved the magic wand over you?' he said, giving Justin a
frankly admiring look.  Justin was wearing only boxers on his way to
scavenge in the kitchen.
  'When did you get in?'
  'Last night, Pete's in the kitchen.  We're gonna do the London scene for
a few days.  A bit of excitement before we have to think of the new
semester.'
  'No one said.'
  'No one knew.  Pete and I went for it as a last moment thing.  To tell
the truth, it was a good way of getting away from my folks.  We went with
them to dad's cabin near Blowing Rock.  Not a good idea, as it turned out.
My shitty little brothers are getting increasingly shitty and homophobic.
We got tired of the perpetual inane innuendo.'
  'Good news for us then, innit?  Hope you got time for a deprived
foster-nephew.'
  'I heard that you might be thinking of becoming a genuine nephew.'
  'I'm still thinking about adoption.  But I don't think I'm ready for it
yet, if ever.'
  'A new little gay Peacher boy for the media to fasten on to?'
  'It's not that ...'
  'Then what?'
  'It turned out I had a real dad out there after all.  I'm hoping to find
him one day.  Only then will I be ready for that sort of decision.'
  'Fair enough.'  Tim suddenly brushed his hand up Justin's inner thigh,
slowly, his fingers poised below the bottom of his boxers, ready to go
further.  Justin recognised the coy but passionate look in Tim's eyes from
St Kitts.  Tim had been sizing up his body as they talked and his interest
in Justin was clearly more than friendly.  Justin's penis twitched and
thickened and his body tingled with a sudden desire.  But Justin remembered
Andy's look when he heard of what this same randy teen had done with Ramon
and Terry, and he had discovered in himself a loyal core that didn't want
now to disappoint his fosterfather, hot though Tim undoubtedly was.  But
how to get out of the seduction that Tim was busy scripting in his head,
and with which his own body was happy to collaborate?
  'You think you can give us a hand?' he asked, coolly.
  'Sure,' smiled Tim hopefully, 'where do you want it?'
  'Ha ha,' Justin responded in a matter-of-fact manner.  'Fact is, I've
developed haemorrhoids.  Too much ... well you know what.  I need someone to
apply the medication for me ... Nathan's still asleep and I was looking for
Andy.'
  'Oh.  Oh!'  The passion had suddenly gone from Tim's eyes.  'I--I'd
better leave that for Andy, it's a foster-father sort of thing, isn't it?'
  'Guess so.  OK, well, see you later.'  Justin trotted down the stairs
with a wicked grin back in residence on his face.  He bumped into Terry as
he turned a corner.
  'I'll be happy to help,' said the security man.
  'Er ... what with?'
  'The haemorrhoid cream.  I've had some experience of piles.'
  'You were listening weren't you, you bastard.'
  Terry laughed loudly.  'Don't you want me finger up your arse?  What a
lad ... but you certainly did throw a bucket of cold water over Tim, at
least.  Well done.  Come and have some breakfast.  We need a chat, criminal
babe.'
  Peter Peacher was at the breakfast bar with a plate of egg, bacon and
mushrooms provided by Mrs Atkinson.  He was busy chatting her up.  He knew
from his experience in Andy's household in Annandale that the balance of
power in a large household resided with the housekeeper, and he wanted to
have her on his side.  He was terrified of Mrs Fuentas, Andy's American
housekeeper, a woman who definitely felt a mission to control him and was
not floored by his looks, as most women were.  It had to be said that he
was doing a very good job of charming Mrs Atkinson.  She twinkled at Peter,
and there was definitely a cooler look on her face when she handed over his
ritual morning bowl of Cheerios to Justin.  Justin had for once failed in
the charm game.  He guessed it might have something to do with his habit of
wiping up ejaculations with his used underpants.
  Terry quietly ushered Justin on to the sunny patio, taking a coffee with
him.  'Now me babe,' he asked, 'what's up?'
  'Like what exactly, Uncle Terry?'
  'Don't play innocent ... I read Gay Universe on the plane coming over.'
  'Aw right, the dad thing.'
  'Are you sure you know what you're doin' here?'
  'He's me dad.  I got a right to learn something about him, if I can.  I'm
realistic.  I'm not expecting him to suddenly turn out to be the model dad
I always wanted.  Most likely he's a complete jerk and a loser.  But I
gotta know, Terry.'
  'Put it that way, Justy, and I can't disagree with you.  If the Gay
Universe publicity don't work, what you going to do?'
  'I don't know.  I thought maybe you might have ideas.'
  'I might.  But we'll see how your first try goes.  I hope you get what
you want, but from my point of view, you've got to beware of opportunists,
by which I mean men who are using you to get close to Matt and Andy and
their money.  You could be a tempting target for a con artist.  You need to
do some careful checks that men calling themselves Jack Whittaker are what
they seem to be.'
  'Well, yeah.  I realise that.  I won't let anyone get near me unless they
can prove who they are.'
  'And how will they do that?'
  'Me mam told me one or two things about Jack Whittaker that only the real
one will know.  That's as good a check as any, I think.'
  Terry looked pensive.  Eventually he said, 'OK then.  The best of luck to
you Justy.  I hope you find what you're looking for.'

As luck would have it, a packet arrived that very morning from Gay
Universe, enclosing a thick wad of letters addressed to Justin.  He went
through them with Dave Evans in Matt's garage office.  Matt said Dave had
huge experience in dealing with his mail, which attracted more than its
fair share of nutcases.
  'OK.  Three piles.  Nice fan mail ... which I'll answer for you if you
like.  It's the biggest pile, I'm glad to see.  I've got the classy shots
Gay Universe took of you.  Sign copies of the ones out that weren't
published with the article, and I'll send them.
  'Seriously?'
  'Oh yeah.  You're famous now, kiddo.  Then there's the next pile:
perverts and obvious shysters.  The things this guy wants to do to you I've
not even read on the internet.  Four are asking for cash, and two of them
don't even pretend to be your dad.  Which leaves just this one.' Dave waved
the letter. 'You want to take this away and have a good look at it,
Justin?'
  Justin nodded, and took the open slim manila envelope, with a Sheffield
postmark he noticed.  He went up to his bedroom.  Nathan was throwing a
frisbee with Peter on the lawn out the back.  He could hear their laughter
and whooping.  As he had half expected, the two had hit it off in much the
same way as he had been drawn to Tim.  He sat at his desk and opened the
letter.  It was a brief typed note.  'Dear Justin,' it said, 'I read the
article in Gay Universe and recognised the Macavoy name immediately.  You
will be Lisa's boy and yes, I am your father.  I'm not sure whether it
would be wise to meet.  I have had nothing to do with you all your life,
and I can imagine why you might hold that against me.  There were reasons,
and if you would like to discuss them, my e-mail address is at the bottom
of the page.  J.M. Whittaker.'
  Justin read it twice.  The guy, whoever he was, knew his mum's name,
which was not mentioned in the article.  That indicated he was indeed the
man himself, although it was feasible that a determined con man might have
found that out.  But why bother?
  Justin pondered whether to discuss it with his fosterparents or with
Terry, but decided not to.  This was his business and his alone ... well
maybe Nathan's too a little.  He would talk to Nathan.
  After dinner that night, a lively and hilarious affair with four
teenagers around the table, Justin took Nathan by the hand and led him up
to their room.  He showed him the letter and asked simply, 'What should I
do, Nate?'
    Nathan replied equally simply, 'E-mail the guy.' Then he added, 'Give
him the chance to explain himself, then make your mind up if you want
anything else to do with him.'
  'What shall I say?'
  'I dunno.  Tell him a little about yourself, what you're doing and stuff.
But not too much.  I suppose you gotta decide what sort of relationship you
want with him.'
  'I don't wanna live with him and be a fake family.  I love Matt and Andy
too much, and I know they love me because they've proved it again and
again.  But it would be nice at least to talk to my biological father.'
  Nathan and Justin sat and pondered what to type into the blank e-mail box
open in front of them on the screen.
  'Dear Dad ...?' suggested Nathan desperately.
  'Nope,' said Justin firmly.  'He's just me genetic father, he ain't
earned the right to affection from me.'
  So he typed 'hi.  it's me, justin.  i got your letter.  maybe you're
right about meeting being a bad idea.  but i want to know a little bit
about you anyway and why you left my ma.  she said you were gay.  so why
did you sleep with her?'
  They looked at the message, and then looked at each other.  'OK?'  Justin
asked.
  'Looks good to me,' agreed Nathan.  Justin sent the e-mail on its way.
Then they shut the computer down and went to join the rest downstairs.
  Matt was buzzing with something, and he had got Andy excited too.  He was
handing flute glasses of champagne and had two ready for Nathan and Justin.
  'Boys, I have an announcement.  This morning I had a phone call from the
Rothenian embassy.  The Rothenian government has decided to honour me with
the award of the Order of the Rose of Rothenia, first class.'
  'Cool,' said Peter, 'this mean you're gonna be a knight or a lord or
something?'
  'Not in today's decadent world, no,' Matt admitted, 'but it's got a
lovely red ribbon and a pretty silver star.  It'll look so good with
evening dress.  I looked it up on the web.'
  'Why you, Matt?  Pardon me for asking,' asked Nathan apologetically.
  'Not at all.  It's for services to the Rothenian media industry.  My
company made a major documentary on the country -- huge international
success, you may have seen it.  No?' Nathan and Justin shook their heads.
'Well I have a DVD of it somewhere.  Did wonders for their tourism
industry, apparently.  Then I got involved in the promotion of a new
Rothenian media empire, which has just taken over half the Czech TV
channels.  The Rothenians aren't that fond of the Czechs, and they're a bit
delighted to be controlling the airwaves over Prague.  You remember my
friend Will Vincent who was here a few weeks ago?  He's the main man.  He
was British, but he's just taken out Rothenian nationality so he can become
chairman of the company.  He's got a lot of influence with the Rothenian
government.'
  'So when are you gonna get your medal?' asked Justin.
   'It's not a medal, it's an ancient order of chivalry founded in the
sixteenth century.'
  'OK, when?'
  'In a fortnight, Justin.  And we're all going.  In August Andy will be
leaving for the States and the start of his senior year at JAC, and we
won't see him till nearly Christmas apart from the Thanksgiving holiday.
So we're going to make a summer holiday out of it.  You've got time owing
from Andersons, so there's no reason you both can't come is there?'
  Justin looked puzzled, 'But where's Rothenia?  Is it in Europe?'
  'It's east of Bavaria and south of the Czech Republic.  Quite a big
country.  Fifteen million people at least.  And it's got the biggest gay
entertainment industry in Central Europe in the capital, Strelzen: it's a
beautiful city.  You'll like Club Liberation if we can sneak you in there
one night.'
  'Cool.  Sounds good already,' Nathan grinned, he loved travel.
  'Can't we come?  Uncle Terry says the sex industry there is really
something.' said Peter.
  Andy gave Terry an old-fashioned look.  Terry tried to look innocent; a
lost cause.  'We wouldn't stop you, if you really want to come,' said Andy.
'To be honest it would be nice to have family there for the investiture.
Matt's dad's refused point blank.  The only way we could get him to America
was because at least they spoke English there, Rothenia was a hopeless
case.  Carl, his brother, said he'd try, but he's involved in the Helsinki
Games so we can't count on him.  If you're coming, it's morning dress.  The
Rothenians are a very formal people, you know.'
  'Great,' said Justin with satisfaction, 'more new clothes.' He had
developed a passion for clothes, and Andy and Matt were very generous with
spending money.  He and Nathan between them were colonising a spare room
with their overflow.  Mrs Atkinson was complaining that they needed far
more wardrobe space.
  Before they went to bed, Justin and Nathan booted up the computer one
more time, but there was no reply from his father, and indeed four days
went by before a reply entered his inbox.
  'Not that prompt a correspondent is he?' mused Nathan as they saw the
address.
  'Seems not.  Maybe he's not sure what to say.  OK, here goes.'
  'Dear Justin,' it said.  'I am so glad you contacted me.  I'm not at all
surprised at the question.  In 1988, when you were conceived, I was a Royal
Marine officer cadet.  I knew I was gay alright, but gayness did not then
go down too well in the forces.  I had been in school with Lisa, your
mother, and she had a thing for me.  She became my token girlfriend and I
slept with her on leave, to establish my straight credentials more than
anything else.  Her getting pregnant wasn't part of the plan.  Neither of
us were organised about prevention.  It just happened.  When it did there
was a row and I told her the truth, that we could never live together
because of what I was.  I was gone long before you were born, and the terms
on which we parted meant that there was no chance I would ever play the
part of your father.  Besides, I was abroad most of the time.  I didn't
resign my commission till 2001.  I hope that answers your question, Justin.
It doesn't show me in a good light, especially in view of what happened
afterwards to you.  But we were young and stupid, and if that's an excuse,
it's the only one I've got.  Jack.'
  'So your dad was a soldier, an officer too.  That's pretty cool, Justy.'
  'It's a good enough answer to the question too.  Doesn't try to excuse
the inexcusable at least.'
  'Are you going to answer it?
  'Yes, I will.  He seems intelligent.'
  Justin began typing.  'hi it's justin again.  ok, i understand why you
got my mam pregnant and maybe why you left her and went away.  didn't you
ever get curious about how i was doing?  have i got grandparents on your
side?  have you got a partner?  what are you doing now?'
  Nathan smiled.  'That'll keep the dialogue going for a bit.'
  Justin pressed the send button.  The reply came three days later.  It
appeared that his father was not in a relationship and never had found much
time for them.  Yes, Justin had a grandfather and grandmother in Staines,
as well as an uncle in Melbourne and an aunt still living in Islington.  At
present his father was between jobs, doing some consultancy work on the
side for friends.  He didn't say what the consultancy was.
  Justin took to the keyboard once again.  'hi, jack.  are you living in
london or where are you?  you'll know from the press that me and my nathan
are in highgate.  we're very happy and love each other very much, and we
don't fight much ... well we do a bit, but we're learning to deal with it,
being mature an all is hard when you're sixteen -- nearly seventeen now.
andy and matt are brilliant to me and i love them too very much.  so i
don't want to upset them by being too open about the fact that we're
talking on line.  they'd be cool about it i suppose, but why worry them?
so what do you do for a living?'
  This time the answer came back within twenty four hours. 'Dear Justin,
I'm glad that you managed to find two great guys like that to take care of
you, although I'm amazed as to how it could have happened.  You must tell
me one day.  As for what I do -- when I have a job -- I'm in computer
systems.  Fortunately my contracts tend to be profitable, if short term, so
I can be between jobs for quite a while.  I travel around a lot, so I rent
a service flat when I'm back in London.  At the moment I'm in Ealing, just
off the Common, not a bad place, although small.  Jack.'
  They chatted daily from then on.  Justin learned that his father, now
thirty-five, was still very much into the scene, and was often clubbing
with a set of mates.  He thought of his and Nathan's adventure several
months ago in the club in Camden Town with ... what were those guys' names?
Frank and Clive?  He hoped his dad wasn't as predatory as those two.  He
must be pretty fit looking though, he concluded.  His father said he had
dark hair like Justin, not grey yet and not dyed.  He worked out.  Justin
told him about his gardening and his job, and -- so far as you could tell
over the web -- his father seemed genuinely interested.  Justin was just
puzzled as to how to take things further, or even if he wanted to.