Date: Thu, 27 Jul 2000 06:05:46 -0700 (PDT)
From: tiberius <tiberius224@yahoo.com>
Subject: Pillow Talk Prequel 3

***  !!WARNING!!  *** Gay fiction about to begin!

If you're not old enough please come back when you are. If you're not
allowed to see this wherever you're accessing it from don't! You should
go now at a run-if not, it's your neck and don't say I didn't warn you
to leave.  And last but not least-if you are offended by the thought of
homosexuality then you're in the wrong place. Please go back the way
you came in or you will be offended.

Also, these characters come from my imagination. I know of no one
like them in real life. Any one who sees himself or anyone they know
should mark it down as a coincidence.

This is one of those longer chapters. There isn't any sex in it, but I hope
you'll find it entertaining anyway.

Now that you've been properly warned the story continues.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Ian's brow knitted as he gave his former lover an icy glare.

Ian had fallen in love with Marcus' smoldering looks. Marcus had a
swimmer's body that was as tall as Ian's with less muscle. His face had
the classic features of a handsome man with its squared, lantern jaw.
Marcus also possessed a strong, straight nose and deep-set eyes with
heavy eyebrows. A set of full lips completed Marcus' face. Marcus'
eyes were so dark that they seemed almost lifeless. They were also
small and close together that to one who was not infatuated with
Marcus he would have appeared scheming and untrustworthy.

Marcus apparently realized this and had knew how to blind people with
his charm. Ian wondered once if Marcus he practiced softening the hard
look in those black eyes in front of a mirror. That had to be how Ian
had missed the one flaw in Marcus' appearance that should have
warned him to stay away. Until his true nature had been revealed, Ian
had missed that one feature that flawed Marcus' otherwise beautiful
face.

Marcus tilted his head to one side and looked Jeremy over with those
lifeless eyes. He was undoubtedly sizing up the young man. After a
moment, Marcus nodded approvingly, "At least he's a cute one."

Ian took a deep breath, "What do you want?"

Marcus held his arms wide, "Who says I want anything-except maybe
something to eat? Owen says he can't serve me. He says you told him
not to."

Ian nodded, "That's right. Most employees who get fired for what you
did have more sense than to go back to the place they stole from."

"But I'm not here as an employee." Countered Marcus taking another
look at Jeremy. There was a look on his face like Marcus had seen the
youth before. "I'm here as a customer."

Ian replied,  "Have you ever noticed the little sign on the front door?
The one that says, `we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone'."

"So you're refusing me service then." Marcus said. "Don't you have to
have grounds for that?"

"Embezzlement is strong enough grounds to have you arrested." Ian
said. "The fake books are still in a safe place. My accountant still thinks
I should turn them over to the police."

"But you won't." Marcus smiled. "I know you too well. You loved me,
and like the sentimental fool you are you'll let me go because of it."

"Don't make too much fun of that." Ian warned. "Because that
sentimentality is the only thing that kept you out of jail."

"I knew it would." Marcus shrugged. "I know you."

"I suggest you take a look around." Ian snorted. "That sentimentality
toward you is fading fast. I wouldn't push it if I were you."

Marcus laughed, "You're bluffing. You wouldn't do anything to me."

"Are you willing to bet several years in prison on that?" Ian smiled
sweetly, but the anger burned in his eyes.

Marcus did not miss the anger. "You're no fun anymore."

"Thanks to you." Ian said smugly.

Marcus' eyes narrowed as he looked at Jeremy again.

Then he smiled, "Well, well, well, I thought he looked familiar. I've
seen him in here before with several different men. You're not only
taking up with a boy, but a hustler as well. Did you know that this kid
sells his body for money, Ian?"

Ian laughed, "Yes, I know. This young man told me that already. At
least he's honest about how he makes his money unlike some people I
cold mention."

"Is that supposed to make me feel bad?" Marcus put his palm to his
chest.

Ian shook his head, "No, not really. You would have to have a
conscience before it could do that."

Marcus laughed, "You are so right. It's funny that I never knew how
sharp your tongue could be before."

"You'd be surprised what I'm capable of." Ian said. He didn't say that
they would both probably be surprised what Ian was capable of. "Now,
get your sorry ass out of my restaurant, and don't ever come around
either me or the restaurant again."

"I suppose a good recommendation is out of the question." Marcus said
with a smirk on his face.

"You would suppose right." Ian replied matter-of-factly.

"Ah well," smiled Marcus. "So long, Ian."

Marcus turned to leave. Ian walked quickly to the door. Marcus was
still walking away when Ian closed the door behind him.

"Good bye." Ian said calmly then put his hands against the doorframe
and leaned against it. Ian had felt anger when he first saw Marcus, and
there was still anger there. Another part of Ian still cared for Marcus,
but he could not let his ex-lover see that. That was a weakness Marcus
would know how to use.

Ian had changed enough that he knew how Marcus had played him
before. Ian's anger and pain gave him the knowledge to see him for
what he was and the strength not to let Marcus play him again.

"Who was that asshole?" Jeremy's voice sounded annoyed.

Ian smiled. Jeremy was right and he had just met Marcus for a few
minutes. Why had Ian not been able to see that?

Ian turned, "That was my ex."

"He's a jerk." Jeremy noted.

"Now," Ian agreed. "But when I first knew him he was quite a charmer.
He was probably after my money even then."

"Still is." Jeremy said.

Ian cocked his head, "How can you tell?"

Jeremy shrugged, "I've seen the type before. Almost ended up with one
as a pimp. I guess he thought I could make him more money than his
other guys, but one of them knew what was going on and gave me the
four-one-one. I didn't hang around."

Ian had heard enough young people talking to know that four-one-one
meant information. Jeremy actually had a brain under those curly locks
of his. It was a point in his favor.

But it lead Ian to ask, "So how did you end up as a gigolo?"

Jeremy shrugged, "Mom and dad came home early and caught me in
bed with my best friend. Dad freaked out and kicked me out."

Ian was stunned, "That's terrible."

Jeremy nodded, "Yeah, I was roaming the streets when that guy I told
you about found me. He gave me a meal and was going to take me
shopping for new clothes when one of his guys told me what he had
planned for me. I knew the guy wasn't doing it out of kindness, so
when I found out what he had in mind I got on a bus and ended up here
in Miami."

"Yet, you eventually did it anyway." Ian observed. "What happened?"

"It was either that or starve." Jeremy shrugged. "At least this way, I
only do it with the guys I want to. Who knows who I'd have ended up
doing, or what they would have made me do if I'd ended up working
for that other guy."

Ian's heart went out to Jeremy even more. Jeremy seemed smart
enough to do anything he wanted to do and here he was selling himself
just to survive. Ian made up his mind that he was going to help him
somehow.

Ian's eyes focused on the open paint can that sat on the desk. He knew
one way to help Jeremy right then.

"Well, we better get busy before that paint dries up." Ian nodded to the
paint can.

Jeremy nodded thankful to do something other than talk about his own
life.

Ian walked over to the desk and picked up a paintbrush. He held it out
to Jeremy. Jeremy walked over and took it from Ian's hand.

"Are you any good at painting around the woodwork?" Ian asked as he
picked up the can and poured some of it into a small plastic bucket.

Jeremy shrugged, "I can do a fair job."

Ian nodded, "Good, you want to start on one side of the room, and I'll
start on the other."

"Sounds good to me." Jeremy agreed.

Ian smiled, "If we get done soon enough maybe you'd care to have
dinner with me."

Jeremy sounded as surprised as he looked. "Are you really asking me
out on a date?"

Ian nodded, "That's right. I am asking you to go to dinner with me. If
we can agree we might even take in a movie."

If he had thought about it Jeremy would have said no, but before he
thought his mouth opened and Jeremy said, "Okay."

Good God, Jeremy thought, I've just made a date-COOL!

Ian smiled, "Then let's get busy."

They had not been painting long when Ian asked, "What do you like to
do when you're not being an escort?"

Jeremy shrugged, "Nothing really, I exercise to stay in shape. No one
wants a fat `escort' as you put it."

"Exercise?" Ian said mildly surprised. "Surely you have something you
do for fun."

Jeremy shook his head even though Ian could not see him, "Not
anymore."

Ian had not missed the sadness in the young man's voice.

"What did you do before?" Ian asked.

"I liked to fix up bikes." Jeremy said. He stopped himself from adding
that he had just started fixing one when his Dad had thrown him out.

"What did you do with them when you finished?" Ian asked.

"Ride them." Jeremy shrugged. "What else?"

"You're a cyclist, then?" Ian asked.

"Yeah, I guess I am." Jeremy said. "I hadn't really thought about it
before."

"What did your folks think of that?" Ian asked politely.

"Mom didn't think much of it. She thought I should be reading and
doing homework and stuff. Dad thought whatever kept me off the
street. He'd bring home bikes from the people he worked with for me
to fix." Jeremy shrugged.

"Mmm," Ian nodded. "My mother talked me in to piano lessons when I
was nine. Dad wanted me to learn something useful like running the
restaurant. I found I had Dad's knack for running the restaurant, but I
really loved the piano. When my folks turned over the restaurant to me
I found a way to do both."

"That's cool." Jeremy said. "Did you change the name when you took
over?"

Ian shook his head, "No, Dad bought the place when I was a baby. He
had always planned on turning it over to me I guess because he
changed the name then."

"Do your folks know you're gay?" Jeremy asked.

"Yes," Ian replied dipping his brush in to the paint can. "I told them so
Mom would quit trying to set me up with her friends' daughters."

"How'd they take it?" Jeremy asked.

"Mom cried, Dad cursed. We had some bad weeks there for awhile.
They didn't tell anyone what was going on, and I figured it wouldn't be
right to rub their faces in it. Eventually, things calmed down." Ian
replied.

"Do the people who work for you know?" Jeremy asked.

Ian nodded, "Yes, but that's thanks to Marcus. I really missed the mark
with him. I should've seen he was no good."

Jeremy dipped his own brush in to the plastic bucket, "I wouldn't
blame yourself about that. He's one of those people who're very good
at hiding what they really are."

"You could tell all that?" Ian asked looking over at the young man. The
fact that Jeremy understood someone like Marcus impressed Ian.

Jeremy shrugged, "I've seen the type before, `course you gave me most
of the clues. He smiles real nice, comes off as the friendliest guy
you've ever met. You think he's the original Boy Scout. All the while,
he's dissing you behind your back. It's such a shock when you finally
see him for what he really is. I would bet he was so good at it you only
found out by accident."

"That's right." Ian nodded. "My accountant came in one day when
Marcus wasn't expecting him, so the real books weren't hidden. The
accountant found both sets of books."

"Figures." Jeremy nodded.

They worked in silence after that. It took a couple of hours to put the
first coat on and clean up any spills around the baseboards.

Ian looked over their work and nodded, "Looks good. You're better
than a fair painter, Jeremy."

Jeremy blushed, "Thanks."

"I bet your Dad was one of those do-it-yourselfers, and you were
always volunteered to help him." Ian said. "I'd also bet he's a
perfectionist."

Jeremy nodded, "Yeah, he's definitely all that."

Ian nodded. "It shows in the side you did."

It was Jeremy's turn to be impressed by Ian.

"Why don't we take a break for lunch?" Ian suggested before Jeremy
could say anything. "We can finish this afterward."

Jeremy nodded, "Okay."

"You want to grab something from the kitchen or go somewhere else?"
Ian asked.

Jeremy shrugged, "We can eat something here."

"Okay." Ian said. "I'll go see what I can find. You want a soft drink or
something to drink?"

"Yeah, I'll take a cola." Jeremy said. "Make it diet."

"Okay." Ian said. "Have a seat if you can avoid the paint, and I'll be
right back."

Ian left the office and Jeremy went over and sat down on the sofa. The
plastic rustled under him as his weight settled on to the couch. Jeremy
sighed.

Ian was certainly not the same man he had been the night before.

Ian soon came back with a couple of covered dishes and two sodas on a
large tray that he carried on his arm like he was a waiter. In the other
hand he carried a folding chair. Ian leaned the chair against the desk
and then sat the tray down on the plastic covered desk. He unfolded the
chair and sat it there.

"Your seat, sir." He said to Jeremy.

Then Ian went around the desk and sat down in his own chair. Jeremy
came over and sat down on the chair offered him.

"I hope you're not a vegetarian." Ian said as he lifted the covers off the
two covered dishes. "You can have something else if you prefer."

Ian's was a fancy restaurant that made the meal of hot roast beef
sandwiches and fruit salad look simple by comparison. Jeremy's
stomach churned at the sight and smell coming from the food.

"This is fine." Jeremy said. "It looks great."

Ian smiled pleased that the food was acceptable. "You can have more if
you want."

"I don't usually eat lunch." Jeremy said. "This should be plenty."

As he began to eat Jeremy noticed that Ian watched him for any sign
that the food was bad, or that he needed something else. This was
something Jeremy had always found when he came here with a client.
The staff was always eager to please. Jeremy wondered it had anything
to do with the fact that he was concerned with his own client's coming
pleasure that made him appreciate such eagerness to please-real or
imagined.

The meal was tasty which was no surprise to Jeremy. He had eaten the
food prepared there on several of his `dates' and had never had
complaints about the meals. He had come to expect nothing less from
Ian's.

The meal went quickly and then they went back to work. There was
still one more coat of paint to be put on the walls. The second coat went
on fairly quickly and their work was done by mid-afternoon.

Jeremy was sorry the work was done. He had enjoyed the time he spent
with Ian.

Ian was looking over their work and was obviously pleased by what he
saw. He had a look of satisfaction that only comes from doing a job
well.

"Thank you for helping me." Ian said looking at Jeremy. "I have to
admit I didn't expect you to show up this morning."

Ian went over to the desk and pulled one corner of the plastic back. He
opened the drawer and reached in. Ian came back with an envelope. He
walked around and handed it to Jeremy.

"What's this?" Jeremy asked taking the envelope.

"I figured that the time it would take for us to paint this room would be
a lot more than the cost of your meals last night. So I guessed what the
difference would be and put it in here." Ian explained.

Inside Jeremy found two one hundred-dollar bills. He looked up at Ian.

"You don't have to do this." Jeremy protested.

Ian held up his hands, "Yes I do. It would have cost me more to have a
painter come in and do this."

"But," Jeremy started to argue.

"No, buts." Ian cut him off. "You did a good job. You deserve it. And I
won't take no for an answer."

Jeremy could see the determination in Ian's face. He sighed.

"Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Ian smiled pleased with himself. "Now, what time
would you like me to pick you up for our date?"

"You're serious?" Jeremy asked.

"What time?" was Ian's only reply.

 "Seven?" Jeremy said.

"Good. I'll pick you up at seven." Ian said. "We're going someplace
fairly casual, so something similar to what you wore last night will be
just fine."

"Well, okay then." Jeremy gave in. "I'll see you at seven. Do you need
the address?"

"No," Ian shook his head. "I wrote it down, remember?"

"Okay then." Jeremy said. "I'll see you at seven."