Date: Fri, 19 Feb 2016 16:07:41 -0500
From: CJ Abello <cjabello1997@gmail.com>
Subject: CJ: Autumn: Chapter 14: Ramrod

CJ: Autumn: Chapter 14: Ramrod

This is a work of fiction set in the real world. Certain living individuals
make appearances in the story; all other characters and the events in which
they all participate are the creation of the author. Any resemblance of the
fictional characters to actual individuals is purely coincidental.


Sunday, 13 October 2013

"Anybody awake yet? It's almost eight!" Although Rod had a key to his
brother's place, if Natasha had been in town, he wouldn't have climbed the
stairs uninvited. Since she wasn't, and there was no response to his
greeting, he decided to head up and get the guys going.

The door to the master bedroom was closed, the one to the guest room
wasn't. He peeked in and was shocked by who he saw sleeping on the big
bed. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes for a moment, and tried to decide
what to do. Quietly stepping inside, he moved to the side his brother was
laying on, and gently tapped him on the shoulder, not wanting to startle
him. He was under the covers spooning CJ. Their upper bodies were
uncovered, his furry arm visible, wrapped around their cousin's chest.

"Randy, wake up. Come on, asshole. Wake up."

"What the fuck, bro?" Randy partially opened his eyes and turned on his
back, untangling himself from CJ. The boy stirred but didn't wake. "What
the hell's your problem?"

"Quiet. Don't wake CJ. Get up and come downstairs."

"Fine. Gimmie a minute. Gotta pee first." The half-asleep man threw the
covers off himself, sat up stretching his arms, slowly twisting his head
and body from side to side. He stood, scratched his groin, and walked
towards the bathroom with his erection leading the way. "Make yourself
useful, go start the coffeemaker."

Still naked and not fully awake, he walked into the kitchen a few minutes
later, piss boner deflated. The coffee was already brewing, the aroma
starting to permeate the room. "Now, wanna tell me what the hell your
problem is? It's too goddamned early to be up on a Sunday morning. And why
aren't you at your girlfriend's place banging the hell out of her?"

"I can't believe you fucked our under-aged cousin. And I broke up with the
bitch."

"Huh? What are you talking about? Fucked CJ? I did no such thing." Randy
opened the cabinet above the kitchen counter to reveal brightly colored
Fiesta mugs hanging from hooks. He took two out, and before the brewing
cycle was finished, filled them both. His first sip of the steaming
beverage made him close his eyes, a contented sigh escaping his lips. "You
broke up with her?" He asked apparently coming awake, Rod's comment
obviously registering at last.  "What happened?"

"Really? You did no such thing? Care to explain why, when I walk in this
morning, I find the two of you in bed naked? You were fucking spooning him
and you had a hard on! Oh, and let's not forget the full, tied-off condoms
laying on the floor next to the torn Magnum wrappers."

"Sorry to tell you, Sherlock, your deductive powers are for shit! We went
out last night, had a great time. Ty had a couple too many, so he and I
went to sleep soon after we returned home.  Didn't even get to play around,
although he claimed he was horny. We left CJ down here with Orlando, but
before I could fall asleep they were upstairs, our little cousin fucking
the fuck out of our bodybuilder plumber."

"He what?" Rod sprayed coffee all over the kitchen counter, still
sputtering he started laughing.  "CJ fucked that mass of muscles? Damn!"

"Jeez, Rod. Keep it down, will ya? Anyway, Ty was snoring so loud he woke
me up. I left our room planning on coming down to crash on the couch, but
decided to peek into the guest room first. CJ was sleeping alone. Orlando
must have left after they did the deed. I figured what the hell and crawled
into bed with our cousin. Nothing happened between us, and the morning wood
was just morning wood."

"Well waddayaknow. Chicago did turn out to be CJ's lucky town."

"Based on the screaming I heard last night, Orlando was the lucky one. I
think our cousin's a natural. Betcha our musclebound plumber's walking a
tad funny this morning."

"Why do you say that?"

"Let me quote some of what I heard last night: 'Oh god, CJ. You're huge.'
And of course there was: 'Harder, CJ. Fuck me harder.' I went to sleep
listening to those words, my dear brother."

"Fuck me!"

"Can I at least have a cup of coffee first? And aren't you supposed to be
straight?" CJ's voice startled the two brothers as he walked into the
kitchen. "Did one of you get in bed with me this morning? I could have
sworn I felt someone under the covers."

"I did," said Randy as he took another mug from the cupboard and slid it to
his cousin. "Ty woke me up with his snoring. Since your company had already
limped out, I decided to bunk in with you. Hope you don't mind."

"Nah, it's cool. And what do you mean limped out? Orlando seemed fine when
we walked back from the bar last night."

"Oh, I'm sure he was fine then. Until you jumped his bones, he started
yelling how huge you were, and kept asking you to screw him harder."
Randy's grin showed how much he was enjoying giving CJ a hard time.

"Fuck! You heard?" CJ put his hands up to his face, trying to cover up the
blushing Rod knew went along with a warming of his cheeks.

"I think the entire neighborhood heard it, cuz. You rocked the stud's
world. Way to go!"

X X X

CJ had flown to Chicago for the weekend, Doc was gone to New York, Dragon &
King were in Montreal, and Potus' kids were in DC, but he and Pope were out
on the PP with the boys. With the Eight scattered all over the place, Brett
and Cesar were left to enjoy the weekend by themselves. However, the first
two nights they spent alone in Georgetown in almost five months left both
men somewhat subdued. Friday after work they'd ordered pizza, changed into
boxers and t-shirts, and watched a movie on TV before going to sleep
early. Saturday, they rode the Harleys into the Maryland countryside south
of DC, and had lunch at a country diner somewhere near Port Tobacco--with a
population of under twenty, the smallest incorporated town in the
state. Back home, they spent time cleaning the bikes, before having dinner
at The Tombs by themselves.

"Daddy, I'm bored," whined Brett in his best impersonation of a young
boy. He and Cesar were drinking their umpteenth cup of coffee, working
their way through the Sunday Washington Post and The New York Times.

"This is pathetic, you know?" Cesar took off his reading glasses, placed
them on the coffee table, and scooted over on the sofa until he was right
up against his husband. "First weekend we have alone in almost six months
and we can't find the motivation to do anything. The damn kid has messed up
our lives!"

"Is that your way of saying you miss him as much as I do?"

"Fuck! Can you believe this shit? I've thought of a million things we could
do, but then I realize I'd rather wait until CJ's around so he can do them
with us."

"Maybe we should call him and--"

"Not on your life, Jarhead. We know where he is, we know who he's with, and
we're not going to turn into obnoxious fathers. We have a smart kid we know
we can trust. The last thing we need to do is call to check up on him."

"It wouldn't be checking on--"

"Nope. It ain't happening. Look, let's clean up, get dressed, and walk
somewhere for a bite to eat. I'll let you play with my man bits while we
shower..."

"You're a dirty old man, Cesar Abello!"

"Yes I am. Come on. You can scrub me down until I'm not so dirty anymore."

X X X

Rodney Abello was a junior at Northwestern University studying Civil
Engineering; his brother was in the same class year, studying architecture
at the University of Illinois-Chicago. Both young men had chosen to stay at
home in the Windy City to study, so they could be near each other, and so
they could remain involved in Second Line Design, the family business
specializing in high-end renovations and restoration--primarily of historic
structures.

The brothers were delighted their young cousin's interest dovetailed with
theirs, and planned their day of sightseeing accordingly. The Chicago
Architecture Foundation's River Tour was their choice for his introduction
to Chicago--The Home of the Skyscraper.

The day dawned chilly and temperatures weren't expected to climb much
higher than the low sixties. CJ wore a black Harley-Davidson t-shirt with a
motorcycle on an American flag graphic in front, a borrowed flannel shirt,
and his new down vest. Tyler lent him a knit beanie to help keep him warm
as the four men walked towards North Halsted Street and the Chicago
Diner. The vegetarian/vegan restaurant had been around for years and was a
favorite with the locals. The twins and Tyler were greeted by several of
the patrons. They introduced CJ to their acquaintances, before slipping
into one of the booths running along the right side of the narrow space.

"Sorry about last night, CJ. I rarely drink more than a couple of beers but
the damn drag queen kept sending shots of tequila over to our table."
Tyler's head shaking was almost imperceptible, he'd already complained of a
hangover and took some ibuprofen after getting out of the
shower. Apparently they hadn't kicked in yet.

"Bullshit, Ty!" Randy wasn't being gentle, his boyfriend visibly winced at
the volume of the reply right next to his ear. "Clo sent over exactly two
rounds of shots. You didn't have to drink yours, Orlando's, and CJ's. I
enjoyed my two and feel fine this morning."

"Why are you being mean to me? I thought you loved me!"

Sitting across from them in the booth, Rod and CJ could barely control
their laughter. "The two of you are like an old married couple, you know?"
CJ's comment was probably a mistake, it switched the attention to him.

"So, cuz. Without graphic details, wanna tell me what happened last night?"
Rod kept his eyes aimed at his plate of food, but his brother noticed a
small smirk on his face.

"Nothing much to tell. I had a great time at the show. Later, Orlando
helped me further my education by sharing a bit of what he knows of pipes
and plumbing." The twins laughed so loud other patrons turned to look;
Tyler even smiled while wincing in apparent discomfort.

"Damn! I'm not sure I can handle three Abellos at the same time this early
in the morning. You guys are just too damn perky."

"Suck it up, buddy. Betcha next time you'll think twice before chugging so
much tequila," CJ turned towards Rod. "Did I hear you say you broke up with
your girl? Didn't you say you'd been dating for almost six months? What
happened?"

"The bitch found out my brother and my visiting cousin are gay and she got
all Evangelical Christian on me. Told her to go fuck herself with her
crucifix."

Randy's eyebrows shot up and his eyes opened up wide. "Ouch! No you
didn't. That's just plain hateful of you, Rod."

"Hell yeah. But I don't even know if she has a crucifix!"

"Asshole!" CJ was somewhat confused by the girl's reaction. "How could she
not know you have a gay brother? She hadn't met Randy before?"

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" asked Randy with an indignant tone in
his voice. "Are you implying I'm a flamer and people can tell I'm gay when
they meet me?"

"Yes you are and yes she had," replied Rod. "But the one time she was at
his place. Tyler was out of town so she assumed Natasha was Randy's
girlfriend. I mean, he's my brother, he's not my gay brother. It just never
came up. When I mentioned you were in town, and Randy and his boyfriend
were taking you out in Boystown, the shit hit the fan."

"Ooops. Sorry, cuz."

"Don't be. Look at the bright side. I don't have to spend the money to fly
her down to Miami for Thanksgiving."

After breakfast, they walked south on North Halsted Street--the guys
pointing out bars and landmarks along the way--until they reached West
Belmont Avenue. There they turned west, headed for the Chicago Transit
Authority's L station. The CTA's red line took them to within a few blocks
of the embarkation point for the tour aboard Chicago's First Lady.

The view from the Chicago River was outstanding, over fifty significant
structures could be easily seen from the boat, and CJ snapped pictures to
his heart's content. One he was particularly fond of was a shot of the
Sears Tower framed by two modern structures, but with an old river tender
tower in the foreground. It was the cover image on his Facebook page for
the next couple of months. His cousins explained the structure was now
known as the Willis Tower but most Chicagoans still referred to it by its
original moniker.

Following the ninety minute tour, the four men walked to the Water Tower on
Michigan Avenue. Built to house a large water pump, it was one of the few
buildings to survive the Great Chicago Fire and currently housed an Office
of Tourism art gallery showcasing the work of local artists. Their next
stop was the John Hancock Center and the restaurant on the ninety-fifth
floor.

Lunch was about both the view and the food. The Signature Room offered
outstanding vistas of the Lake, Navy Pier and the rest of Chicago; the food
was upscale and worth every cent they charged.

X X X

"Damn! What are you doing up?" Dragon's eyes were slits as he squinted in
the bright sunshine streaming into the hotel room. "What time is it
anyway?" He sat up slightly, brought his forearm up in front of his face,
and stared at his boyfriend. "Feels as if I just went to sleep."

'I'm packing and it's 9:00 a.m."

"Fuck! Come back to bed. Packing? What are you talking about? We have a
party tonight and we don't fly home until tomorrow."

"You fly home tomorrow. My flight leaves at two this afternoon."

"WHAT?"

"I said, my flight--"

"I heard what you said, I just don't understand it. When did you change the
flight and why are you flying home alone?"

"Changed it a couple of hours ago and I'm going home alone because I need
to do some thinking away from you."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Are you bloody daft, Devon? You keep asking me questions which force me to
repeat myself. It means I need time away from you to figure some things
out."

"Does this have anything to do with why you were in such a bad mood last
night?"

"I was not in a bad mood. I was sore, tired, and sober. Unlike you, I
didn't need to pop two sleeping pills to get some rest. Not that I had any,
anyway."

"What do you mean sober?"

"Fuck! Again? Sober means there were no drugs or alcohol left in my
system."

"You mean you didn't take your hits of X? What did you do with them?"

"What is this, twenty questions? Is that what you're concerned with? What
happened with the drugs? Aren't you wondering why I didn't take the damn
pills? The bloody drugs I didn't take are on the nightstand. You can stop
worrying."

"Jesus! What's gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into me is a bunch of strange cocks and a nice deposit of
semen by the last guy, who didn't bother to wear a condom!"

"WHAT?"

"That's it, man. No more stupid questions. Yes. I said stupid. The one
question you should have asked you haven't even thought of, that would have
been why am I doing all this. I'll save you the effort. I'm leaving early
and going home alone because I can't deal with what happened at the
sauna. You broke our rules. You were supposed to look after me and you
didn't. When I asked to come back to the hotel you said just one more. You
thought the guy was hot. It turned into three more. You were so bloody
concerned with having a good time yourself, you forgot about taking care of
me."

"But you wanted to go to the sauna. And you're a bottom so I thought you'd
enjoy it. I'm sorry about the guy not wearing a condom. I screwed up. But
you should be okay. The meds--"

"Devon, shut up before you say anything else to piss me off. I was so damn
high when we decided to go out, I was barely aware of what I was
doing. That's why I didn't take the extra pills. I plain forgot. The meds
are good but not failsafe. And HIV's not the only thing to worry
about. Doesn't matter what I may have said at the time, it was your bloody
responsibility to look after me and protect me." King's tone of voice left
no doubt he was furious with his boyfriend. "I'm a fucking attorney at one
of the best bloody law firms in the country, yet you turned me into a
fucking cumdump. All you cared about was your pleasure, and that of the
other guys. Not acceptable, Mr. Jefferson. Not acceptable at all!"

"Okay. Give me a chance to shower so I can finish waking up. I'll call the
airline and change my flight. We can go home and figure this out."

"No. Right now I can't think rationally. I need a little time to calm
down. I'm going home alone.  You stay, have fun tonight, and we'll talk
when you get back to Washington."

X X X

Instead of retracing their steps towards the dock of the First Lady, the
guys took a cab to head back south and asked to be dropped off at
Millennium Station. There they jumped on the Metra Electric line riding it
to the 55th-56th-57th Station, a short walk away from the Museum of Science
and Industry.

"Go for it, Ty. You're up first," said Randy, affectionately slapping his
boyfriend on the butt.

"What do you mean he's up first?" asked CJ.

"We played rock-paper-scissors while you were in the bathroom. Winner got
to pick what he wanted to describe for you. Ty won and he picked the
building itself," replied Rod.

"What about the two of you?"

"Don't worry about them, CJ. I got the best part!" Ty put his arm around
the young man guiding him to walk a few steps ahead of the twins. "The
building the museum is in was built as the Palace of Fine Arts for the 1893
World's Columbian Exposition. Unlike many other Chicago structures, it was
originally plaster clad brick. In the 1920s it was reconstructed in stone."

"Ty, did you like memorize all this shit for class or something?" asked CJ
tongue-in-cheek.

"Or something. Shut up and remember historic renovations is my
business. The exterior's an exact copy of the original Beaux-Arts design,
but the interior was remodeled in the Art Moderne style. Since its initial
construction, the building has always housed a museum."

"Cool. If I end up studying architecture the different styles I'm sure will
become clearer. Right now I can recognize a few, but some get mixed up in
my head."

"It'll become an automatic response, cuz." Rod was apparently the next tour
guide. "The museum has over 2,000 exhibits, displayed in seventy-five major
halls. We picked five we thought you might enjoy."

"The submarine better be one, I read a blurb on it on the flight."

"Funny you should mention the U-boat. That's our first stop, and I'm your
designated instructor." Rod chuckled as they moved towards the U-505
Exhibit.

"Let's hear it, prof."

"The U-505 was captured off the coast of West Africa in 1944. One crew
member died but all others were captured, taken prisoner and kept isolated
until the end of the war so the Nazis wouldn't find out the Americans had
captured one of their subs. The boat was towed to Bermuda. The Navy
extracted as much knowledge as they could from it. In 1948, they decided
they no longer needed it and planned to use it for target practice."

"Guess that didn't go as planned."

"Got that right, cuz. Anyway, they agreed to donate it to the museum, which
had to raise a bunch of money to have it towed to Chicago, and then moved
from the lake to the exhibit grounds. It opened in 1954 to the public."

CJ stared at the gleaming vessel. "It's in pretty good shape. Has it been
restored?"

"Hell yeah," replied Rod. "For the first fifty years in Chicago, the
exhibit was outdoors. It got so rusted it wasn't safe for visitors to enter
it. So once again there was a lot of money raised, a new indoor exhibit
constructed, and voil !"

"Wow, talk about claustrophobic," commented CJ when he got a look
inside. "They must have recruited real short guys as sailors to serve on
these things. Orlando would have been a natural."

"Oh, just wait until he hears you slammed him because of his height," said
Ty taking out his phone, acting ready to text their friend.

"Shut up, Ty. I don't have a problem with his height!"

"Is that 'cause you kept him in a horizontal position all night?" Randy
took a step back to avoid the elbow his younger cousin aimed at him. "Guys,
we're running out of time. If we're late for dinner, Mom will be
pissed. Cuz, pick one, the model train, the coal mine, or the Apollo 8
capsule?

"Train."

"Not interested in the Apollo 8 capsule?" asked Randy.

"Cuz, remember where I live? The Smithsonian Air & Space Museum is one of
my favorite hangouts."

"Oh, yeah, right. Okay, then. The Great Train Story has more than twenty
trains running on over a thousand feet of track." Randy spoke as they
walked around the intricate display. "It represents the journey from
Chicago to Seattle showing the landscape between the two cities."  They had
stopped at the railing on the second floor to look down at the
exhibit. "So, what do you think?"

"I've never had a model train. I think Santa better get his fat ass in gear
because I know what I want for Christmas."

X X X

"Well I'll be damned. Matt Calhoun just walked into my joint!"

"Hi, Tony," said Doc, shaking the hand extended to him by the man behind
the bar. "It's been a while."

"Yes it has," replied Tony Martellini, the dark-haired proprietor of
PRIME--one of the top watering holes in Chelsea. "Where's Chip?"

"Tampa last I heard. We went our own ways at the beginning of summer. He
was cheating on me with a Georgetown grad student. Guess I got too old for
him."

"Oh man, sorry. That sucks. What can I get you and Sean?"

"You guys know each other?" asked Doc somewhat surprised looking between
his two friends.

"Everyone in Chelsea knows Sean. The man's popular."

"Hi, Tony. For the record: Doc's a friend, not a client. We met over Pride
weekend in Washington. My younger brother was the student his ex was
cheating on him with."

"Damn gay men and our one and a half degrees of separation. It's good to
see you both. Let me get you a couple of beers and I'll be back in a bit to
chat. We are featuring a few brews from Sixpoints Brewery in Brooklyn this
month. This round's on the house, let me know what you think."

"So what's the deal, Doc?" asked Sean as he leaned his ass against the bar
stool, not entirely sitting on it. "What did the kids want?"

"You may want to sit properly so you don't fall off your stool,
Bubba. Chipper wants to move to Washington to live with me."

"Oh man! Daddy Doc's gonna be a daddy. You said he's fifteen? At least he's
housebroken, no need to deal with diapers."

"Almost sixteen, his birthday's next month. But it ain't a done deal yet."
Doc took a sip from his beer and smiled. Sean's comment struck him as
funny--housebroken indeed. "Their mother, who I had dinner with last night,
reluctantly approves. Although the kids told me she refused at first, and
had to work on convincing her. She's moving to Argentina and the kids want
to stay in the US. His sister Cristina is a freshman at NYU so she's
set. Chipper refuses to even talk to his father 'cause of what happened
between us. So it's between me and boarding school. The kid knows he'll be
spending most of his summer vacation in South America, at least until he
turns eighteen, and he says he's okay with that."

"So he wouldn't want to move to Tampa. What's the father have to say?"

"A move to Tampa's not an option he'll even consider. As for what Chip has
to say: no idea. We know he ain't the type to settle down. He's proven it
fairly well." Doc inadvertently allowed a note of rancor to color his
words. "Having a teenager at home would interfere with his chasing college
guys. Hell, your brother ain't that much older than Chipper. How's he
doing, by the way?"

"I guess he's okay. I haven't forgiven him entirely, and have barely spoken
to him since the summer."

"Don't be too harsh on him, Bubba. He's young and he was thinking with his
dick. Chip's the one who should have known better. Anyway, the ex-wife told
me she'll handle Chip. Susana Pereira's tough, I wouldn't want her pissed
at me!"

X X X

"I wasn't sure how adventurous you were in your eating. I kept it simple
while still trying to give you a little taste of the food I ate growing up
in a Polish home in Chicago. We have beetroot soup, potato pancakes with
fresh sour cream from Polska Deli, and beef stew using my mother's recipe."

"It looks and smells delicious, Auntie Lynne." CJ closed his eyes for a
moment and inhaled deeply, smiling at the aromas wafting from the food on
the table. "Remember, I'm fifteen. If you place it in front of me, I'll eat
it." The twins, Tyler, and CJ had showered and changed after returning from
sightseeing. They were all wearing t-shirts, jeans, and socks but no shoes
as they sat down to dinner.

"Speaking of my dear grandmother, how come you didn't invite her for dinner
tonight?" asked Randy.

"Randall Abello, don't start." Rico's voice was stern as he spoke to his
son. "We have company."

"Fuck you, Dad. We don't have company. Ty and CJ are both family. I want my
young cousin to realize what his asshole stepfather put him through isn't
so much different from what my own loving grandmother did to me. Or to your
own brother when she met him!"

"ENOUGH!"  Lynne's shout was accompanied by her hand slapping the table. "I
want this to be a pleasant meal. You will leave my mother out of the
conversation. You damn Cubans and your temper."

"Sorry, mom, but--"

"I said enough, Randy. Please forgive my husband and my son, CJ. They have
a defective filter between their brains and their mouths. Often it's not
what they say as how they say it. I hate to admit it, but Randy's correct
in his comment about his grandmother. My parents haven't dealt well with
having a gay grandson."

"Hah, understatement of the year."

Rod elbowed his brother. "Shut up, bro. Let Mom speak."

"What you went through, same as what Randy's had to deal with, isn't
acceptable in any way," continued Lynne. "My son does like to push buttons
though, and his insistence on Ty and Tash being here every time my parents
come over is not helpful. And they don't do so more than once or twice a
year."

"Would you leave dad at home if your grandparents disapproved of him?
Grandma and Grandpa Abello don't have the same issues." Randy was obviously
not letting go of the discussion. Ty had placed a hand on his forearm, an
apparent move to calm him down, but the gesture was ignored.

"Shut up, bro. Plus, not fair. They had already dealt with Uncle Cesar
years before. They also were never fanatical Catholics like our Polish
family."

"If you all would be so kind as to allow me to finish my thoughts. I hate
to quote jingles but it does get better, CJ." Lynne smiled at her
nephew. "There will never be a complete end to homophobia, as there will
never be a complete end to racism, but it does get better. Whereas my
parents' generation has been less accepting of differences, mine has a much
different attitude. Maybe we still have some doubts, concerns, worries or
whatever, but in the end, Randy's my son. His sexual orientation has never
interfered with my love for him.

"Your age group, and I am lumping the four of you together, hasn't so much
accepted differences, as you have embraced them. I think Rod has more gay
friends than his gay brother does. That's the way it should be, that's the
way it will be. We are getting there. Slowly but surely, we are getting
there. End of subject discussion. Tell me, have you enjoyed your first
visit to Chicago?"

X X X

"Go in, guys," said JP, holding the door open.

"Hey! I recognize this place." Bradley stopped abruptly just inside the
entrance, causing his younger brother to run into him.

"Move it, dickhead." Paddy shoved his brother aside so he could walk into
the place. "Duh! Of course you recognize it. This is where Dad got
married. That bar on the left is where the two cakes were. I remember from
the picture CJ sent us."

For the second week in a row, there was a birthday celebration at Rogo's:
JP's thirty-second.  Dragon's twenty-seventh had been on Monday and the
gang had gathered the previous week for dinner. The crowd would be smaller
since most of the Elite were traveling.

"Happy birthday, Pope!" shouted Danno, walking towards them drying his
hands on a bar towel. "Stay there, guys. There's eight of us tonight, we'll
use the table right by the window."

"Thanks, Danno. Brett just texted me, he and Cesar are on the way," said
JP, giving his friend a hug.

"Hi, bud." Tom gave the barkeep a bro hug in greeting. "These are my sons,
Bradley and Patrick.  Boys, Danno owns this place."

"You're the one with the long, weird name, right?" asked Paddy shaking the
man's hand.

"Fuck! We can't take you anywhere, Paddy. Please forgive my brother, he
can't help being a dork. Nice to meet you, sir." Bradley was shaking his
head, staring at his brother, before returning his gaze to the bar owner's
face.

"It's cool. Yeah, my real name's a mouthful, little dude. Tell you what
though, I'm either Uncle Danno, or just plain Danno. None of that sir
stuff."

"Sorry, Uncle Danno. Anyway, I thought your name was cool when CJ told us
what it was."  Paddy appeared to quickly warm up to the stranger he'd just
met. "This is kinda cool. One trip to Washington and we get all these new
uncles. I can't wait to meet CJ's dads."

"You mean us?" Brett had placed his hands on JP's shoulders and was pulling
his friend back towards him. "Happy birthday, old friend."

"Bloody hell, stop feeling me up, Jarhead. And don't give me any old friend
crap, I'm only two years older."

"Behave, children. Hi, Patrick. Bradley. I'm Cesar, CJ's other dad. And I
meant my husband and JP when I mentioned children. Not you!"

"Ohhh, you guys are all so cool." Paddy was looking around the circle of
adults, wonderment on his face. "I wish our uncles in Boston were like
you."

"You may change your mind once you get to know them better," said Trip as
he joined the group.

"Trip!" came from several voices at the same time.

"Hi, guys. Kids, I'm the real cool uncle in the crowd. I'm Trip."

X X X

"That was... interesting," said Ty flopping down on the couch. "Really,
Randy, you shouldn't pick fights with your mom. The woman can't help the
way your grandmother is."

"Then she shouldn't bring the old bitch up!" Randy's tone left no doubt he
was still heated up about the dinner conversation. "It's not you guys who
are considered less than human because you're gay."

"Bro, Grandma's made her feelings about Ty well known, so he's in the same
boat you're in. I refuse to visit her 'cause of the way she treats you. Dad
rarely speaks with her, and Mom only does so because she thinks the old
woman will one day change. What else do you want?"

"I want her, CJ's stepfather, and everyone else like them to drop
dead. That would make the world a whole better place. Sorry, cuz. My
tolerance for assholes is non-existent."

"It's cool. I may have never used the same words as you, but my feelings
aren't too different."

"Okay, change of topic." Rod had finished rolling a joint, given it to
Tyler to light, and was in the process of putting another one together. "Ty
has to work tomorrow, so it's the Abello boys only when we go play. Frank
Lloyd Wright house?"

"You mean a tour of his home in Chicago?" CJ had taken a couple small hits
from the spliff as he'd been taught in order to avoid a coughing
bout. "Fuck yeah! Too bad you have to work Ty."

"Somebody has to keep Second Line running until these two bozos come work
full-time." The muscular young man snuggled into his partner's body as he
looked at CJ with a mischievous smile on his face. "Unfortunately it means
Orlando also has to work, so you won't get to see him again before you
leave. Unless you want us to invite him over to spend the night?"

"Ummm. Well..." CJ turned crimson and kept looking back and forth between
the three older guys.

"It's cool if you want to, cuz," said Rod. "Mom and Dad don't have to know
anything's going on.  He can come in through the outside entrance and he'll
be gone early in the morning. Hell, he can drive Ty to work, saving us from
having to make the trip."

"Yeah, CJ," added Randy. "He texted before hoping he could see you. I think
you really made the earth move for the kid. He's calling you Ramrod!"

----------
Copyright 2015 CJ Abello
Edited by: Mann Ramblings

I'd enjoy hearing what you think. Please email me at:
cjabello1997@gmail.com

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