Disclaimer: This story is entirely fictional and not intended for minors or those judged unable by law to read this material. Any resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental and unintended.
The author reserves all rights to this work.
15 HARTFORD
The story so far: Martin has had a big change in his life. He had been promoted and would be transferring to another place in the city. He witnessed a shooting incident and agreed to something that he did not really understand.
Part 2 - Meeting Michael
Martin knew that he had to hire someone to look after his mother. He was very worried that he might not get the right person. After one week of working in the city, he realised how difficult it was for him to return home everyday. He had to hire help as soon as possible.
He had put an advertisment in the newspaper a month before his transfer but had not received any applications. He had run the advertisment every Friday and Saturday for the whole month but still no one applied. He had almost given up hope when he received two telephone calls regarding the work. They did not mind staying from Mondays to Fridays. However, they had demanded more money. Martin had wanted to negotiate, but because they sensed his desperation, they did not give in. Not being able to come to a fairer deal, Martin decided not to hire them.
Two weeks into his new position, Martin was beginning to feel the strain. He decided to run the advertisment again and hope. After the first week, he received a call from a nurse who had just retired. He had met her and found her suitable. She was still hale and hearty and wanted more to help than for the money. There was a slight problem with the arrangements. She hoped that she would be able to stay full-time rather than on weekdays. She was a spinster and explained that it was less economical to rent a flat just for the weekends. Martin found her request more than fair. After all his home had enough rooms for three nurses!
With Nelly, that was her name, keeping his mother company, Martin was finally able to be at peace with his position in the city. He found that the city moved at a faster pace than the previous plant. He liked the fast pace, but it also meant that he had to push the staff harder. He kept to his usual formula. The workers were good and they actually had a little less work now that they were more. The snag was that the clients in the city were more picky and fastidious. They were also more demanding, bringing up the stress levels of the staff. However, he had full confidence in them.
He was also looking for new staff. After two months, they had already employed two more people, bringing the staff to twelve. However, he realised he needed at least two more. He had asked for two to be transferred from the other plant. Unfortunately, that plant had their hands full. The company was reluctant to hire some more people but seeing the importance of having two more technicians, they agreed. However, they wanted two who were just out of school. That would keep the costs down.
Martin was not very happy, because hiring people straight out of school would be risky but it was better than not having any at all. The advertisments were published and Martin would have to interview and hire them.
Jimmy had been dead for more than three months now. His lover still mourned for him. Every weekend, he would return to their flat. Jimmy had rented a flat using the boy's name so that the syndicate would not know that Jimmy was staying there.
This weekend, the boy was lying on the bed, treasuring some of the memories he had of Jimmy. He remembered the first time Jimmy wanted to make love to him. He remembered how Jimmy had kissed him and slowly removed their clothing. Then Jimmy brought him into the shower and cleaned him and stuck the thin hose into his arse-hole and cleaned his inside. Then, in bed, using a lubricant and his fingers, Jimmy started loosening his hole. He remembered the size of Jimmy's dick as Jimmy was loosening him. It was huge, at least much larger than his own.
He chuckled. He had made a real ass of himself. When Jimmy had two fingers in his arse, he mumbled that it was the best thing he had felt in the sixteen years of his life. He remembered the horror on Jimmy's face. Jimmy actually stopped everything!
"Fuck! You don't look like a sixteen year old. I don't want to go to jail. Hell! you've got a dick of a eighteen year old. You're not fibbing, are you?"
"No, but I'll be seventeen in seven months time," came the disappointed reply.
Jimmy groaned, "I can't do it to a minor."
Jimmy saw his disappointment. "But that doesn't mean that I can't help you to feel good," Jimmy said with a grin. "Just this once, okay?" The boy acknowledged with a nod. "C'mere!" Jimmy got into his hole again, this time, it was just one finger. Jimmy reached into a special spot that made him squirm with pleasure. "Feels good, doesn't it?" He could only nod.
His memories brought his hand to the hardness that was between his legs. He began to stroke himself.
That night, he had come three times. The first time was Jimmy giving him that special treatment. He had gone back home and jacked off another two times. Jimmy had thought it was dangerous for them to be seen together. However, they still met secretly as friends. They fooled around a bit, but nothing as good as the first time. Then three months before he died, Jimmy deflowered him. That was another memory.
He had no time for that memory. The pleasure from his dick was getting to the point of no return. He kept his pace, not hurrying because he wanted the build up to last as long as possible. Alas, as always, it did not last forever. He went over the threshold and the burst started at his dick but went backwards spreading up to his heart. He could feel the pressure being released and the wonderful feeling as he sprayed his semen all over himself. It was good. He was glad that he was still making love to Jimmy in his own way.
He had had a good orgasm and he now needed to clean himself. So he got into the shower and cleaned himself, remembering how Jimmy had cleaned him the first time and the other time before Jimmy took away his virginity. After his eighteenth birthday, Jimmy had made love to him every other day. He would wait for Jimmy to return and then allow Jimmy to wash him and clean his rectum. Then they would lay in bed and make passionate love. Then Jimmy would take him back to the bathroom and clean him again, as gently and lovingly as ever.
He dried himself and put on a pair of shorts. The temperatures were beginning to lower, but it was not too cold yet. Summer was on its way out, allowing autumn to creep in. He stood at the window, allowing the cool breeze to blow on to his exposed chest. He loved the cool feeling that the wind gave him. His window looked out into the city. It was not as good as the flat on the higher floor, but it did allow him to see the rooftops of most of the one and two storey houses in the valley below and the warehouses by the river. It was not the most breath-taking sight, but it was serene and peaceful all the same.
He had told his mother that he was going to stay over at a friend's place. He was going to be interviewed for a job nearby. He told her that he was planning to move in with his friend so that he would not have to get up very early for work. His mother beamed and remarked that her little boy had grown up. Then she wept a little, saying that she was afraid that he would not come back to see her.
"Nonsense mom. I don't work on weekends. I'll come back for weekends. Furthermore, you'll have Mickey and Minnie to keep you company." He was really referring to his twin brother and sister who were younger. Their names were actually Adam and Charlene but 'Mickey and Minnie' were the nicknames he had given to them.
"I know. It'll be different, though."
"I'm sorry that may not be able to help out with expenses for at least a year but at least you'll have one less person to worry about."
"I love you, son." His mother hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. "I know you love us all, I guess it's a mother's irrationality here."
He smiled as he remembered the scene from the morning. Jimmy had paid for the rent until the end of the year. If he wanted to save the flat, he would have to save and really use as little money as possible. He did not want to give up the flat which was the legacy of his lover.
Martin checked his email. There were some memos from the CEO to all management staff and some reminders from his immediate superior. As he went down the list, he saw two familiar names that he never expected to see. The first was Gabriel Duncan, the man who had taken over his job at the old plant. The second was Ian Fitzpatrick, the man who helped him with the layout of the service centre some months before.
Martin clicked on Gabe's email and read it. Gabe was having difficulty in installing a special MIDI card for one of the custom-made computers. Martin was forced to smile. The client was the singer that had caused Gabe to lose part of his salary. The technician in charge had come to Gabe for help and Gabe found it physically impossible to fit it in without completely redesigning the computer case. This singer was a difficult woman. She wanted everything her way. Because of Gabe's history with her, she was more difficult.
Martin thought for a moment and remembered something about the singer. She was very careless around her computer and so the case had to be specially insulated so that the keyboard may not short if she happened to spill her favourite drink on it. Her first spill had resulted in a total burnout of her computer with sparks. She was told that she had to wait about three months if her backup computer was shorted as well. The company had told her that her problem would be solved but she could not be shorting out a computer every week. She had taken it graciously, knowing that her bills would be unusually high if she was not careful. After the insulation solution was found, she was allowed her usual practice of drinking while she surfed the internet. Martin suggested to Gabe that the only way out was to tell her that her that if they fitted in that particular MIDI card, her computer could overheat and perhaps cause a fire. That was not totally true of course, but it gave an excuse to suggest some alternatives: first a redesigning of her computer case to suit the MIDI card, which would take about four to six months, or second, to use a different MIDI card. She could even use a different MIDI card first while the company redesigned her computer case to allow for more ventilation and allow for other additions. Martin knew that Gabe did not have experience on his side, and he really needed help.
He clicked on the second mail and almost laughed. Ian had made good on his promise to stage a protest for the restaurant that they had eaten in a few months ago. He had put up a web site and managed to get a kind of on-line petition to boycott the restaurant. Martin clicked the site and found that there were already more than eighty names on the petition list. If Ian would publicise this further, the restaurant management would definitely have to sit up and listen. Martin added his name to the list and described his experience there.
He managed to finish all these before the official time for work started. He had made good time. Now, he could begin to see what those memos were.
At about nine, his telephone rang. It was Nelly.
"Yes Nelly, is there anything wrong?" Martin was afraid that something might have happened to his mother.
"Well. Your mother has chicken pox."
"What?"
"She cannot remember if she had had them. It would seem now that either she never had it, or it is new strain of the virus. I am in quarantine although I have had chicken pox. I have described the symptoms to the doctor over the telephone and he has agreed to send some medicine over."
"Thank you, Nelly." Martin said. He was relieved that Nelly was there to look after his mother in his absence.
"I just called to tell you about the situation and that you are not to come back for the next three weekends, unless you want to end up with chicken pox or shingles."
"I am stuck here in the city for three weekends? Well, I suppose it is for my sake. Thank you, Nelly. You don't know how much I appreciate your being there."
"Come on Martin," she laughed. "Don't forget that you are paying me to be here."
"Thanks again, anything else?"
"No. Enjoy your few weekends of liberty," she teased. "Good-bye Martin."
"Good-bye."
This was not what Martin wanted at all. He became a little fed up with what was happening. He was not in control of the situation. In all his years of working, he was always on top of the situation, knowing exactly what to do next. This time, nature has won. You can't always reason with nature.
Ending the call, he went over the job applications and the interviews he had to conduct. He had actually narrowed down the potential candidates to 3. He had six to come for the interview just in case the potentials did not work out. He had put the most likely ones last and then the others first.
A call from the receptionist told him that the first of his interviewees was already here. He was third on the list.
"Please let him that he would be interviewed at the appointed time. Please inform me when the first or second arrives."
"Yes Mr. McBain."
He came out of his office and went to another room where he was supposed to conduct the interviews. He caught a glimpse of the young man waiting at reception. He had sat down and was waiting patiently.
The first applicant did not come. The second one arrived and Martin interviewed him. He was a pleasant person who had actually made his own computer as a hobby. Technically, he was good. Martin was as cool as a cucumber. He never displayed his emotions. As always, the person who talked to him was not able to make out whether he had gotten the job or not. At the end of the interview, Martin mentioned mechanically that a decision will be made known within a week.
The applicant left and the third one was ushered in. It was the young man who was waiting in the reception area. Martin noticed that this young man had the bluest eyes he had seen. He was awestruck by the eyes.
The young man had dark brown hair which was cropped short. His skin was tanned, like he played sports and his face was pleasant. He was about two or three inches taller than Martin. He had a broad shoulder and a thin waist. He was dressed in a light blue short-sleeved shirt and a pair of black jeans. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties but the application form said that he was only eighteen.
He regained his composure and asked the young man to sit. This was someone really young. He had just finished school and this was his first job. Martin was not too impressed by his credentials but he knew that the company would hire him in a flash. After asking some questions concerning the technical aspects of computers, he found out that this young man had a good memory. He had not had much practical experience with computers but the answers he had given were almost all from the text books. Checking on his background, he mentioned that he could not continue studying because of the financial situation of his family. His grades were not high enough to consider scholarship and so he had to work. Martin noticed that he lived clear across on the other side of the city.
Martin was curious and so asked him, "I see that you live quite a distance from here, you must have woken up very early to get here."
"No sir. Actually, I stayed overnight at a friend's flat. If I am successful with the job I will stay with him. This way, I will be able to get enough rest and thus give my best."
"Just for the record, what is your friend's address?"
"15, Hartford Close."
Martin froze. The words that were spoken a few months ago came back. "Take ... care ... my ... 15 ... hard fer ... Promise?" The young man sitting in front of him was Michael Watson. Shorten his name and it would be 'Mike'. Could that man, James Mitt, have said "Mike, 15 Hartford"?
"Mr. McBain. Are you okay?" Michael asked.
"Yes." Martin composed himself a second time. "Do your family call you 'Mike' for short?"
"Yes," Michael wondered what this line of questioning had to do with his job application.
Getting back to normal, Martin asked for his new telephone number and at the end said, "Thank you, Mr. Watson. You will get an answer within a week regarding the results of this interview."
Michael looked disappointed. He had wanted this job badly. However, looking at the man in front of him, it was very possible that he had not gotten the job. He thanked Martin and left the room. The next applicant went in and the receptionist saw the look on his face.
"It went badly?"
"I guess so. I don't think he likes me. He did not even smile."
The receptionist gave a little smile, "That's Mr. McBain for you. Don't worry. He does that to everyone that he interviews. His face is usually stone cold so that you cannot tell what he is thinking. Don't worry. Even successful applicants before had the same treatment. Don't worry."
"I guess."
"Hey, cheer up. At least you have a fan here."
"Uh?"
"I like you. You have the most marvellous eyes. Just a look at you today cheered me up when I came to work with the Monday blues. I hope you get to work here. I want to see you come in and make my day cheerier."
"Thank you. I needed that." Michael's spirits were a little up. At least he knew that there was a chance that he was in the running.
After all the interviews, Martin faced a problem. The two most likely persons to get the job was not suitable. They were technically proficient and efficient but he had a nagging feeling that once the school results were out, they would hand in their resignations. They were from quite well to do families, judging from their addresses. That meant that they had the means to continue with a university education. Their grades from school were also excellent indicating that they would be able to get a scholarship even if they did not have the money. Martin had not thought about this until Michael had mentioned his financial status. Martin did not have to interview school leavers before and so had never realised this. Thus, his first choice would have to be the girl who was the fourth applicant. He was a little hesitant about the next one. He was taken up by Michael but he also knew that the better choice would be the applicant before him, the one who had a hobby of outfitting computers. Martin's mind was easily made up, but his heart was telling him something else and this was the first time that Martin's heart and emotions were ignoring what his mind was telling him.
It was Wednesday afternoon after lunch that Michael received the call from the service centre. He recognised the voice of the receptionist.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Michael Watson please?"
"Speaking."
"Mr. Watson, the service centre would like you to report to work the first thing tomorrow morning. Work starts at half past eight sharp. Congratulations."
"Thank you. I'm sorry, but I did not get your name."
"I'm Liz."
"Well, Liz, I guess I'll be cheering you up everyday."
There was a soft laugh on the other end. "Oh! you are the guy who was moping. The guy with the blue eyes. You know, there is a God up there!"
Michael laughed, "Friends call me, Mike. I'll see you tomorrow then."
"Yes, bye."
When his mother came back from work, Michael told her the good news.
"Didn't you go for some other interviews?"
"Yes, but this is the one I really wanted and I got it!"
"So you will be really moving out this time."
"Mom, we've been through this before," Michael said.
"I know. I know. I'll miss you Mike."
"You'll still get to see me on weekends. It would not be that bad."
"Okay. Make sure you pack your winter clothes. Summer is over, you know?"
"Yes mom."
Michael found his way to work and got his identification badge and his workbench. He would be supervised by Sally, a red head woman. The first day was just observation. He was supposed to be the one in charge of maintaining the computer cases and making sure that everything was clean and rust free. He was to be paid only half of his salary for the first month and then three-quarters for the subsequent two months. After this would his training be complete and he was confirmed a technician. He then had to wait another month or two before he was confirmed and then get his full pay, plus the rest of the pay that he had not received for the first three months. Once confirmed, he would have an increment based on the first level of his salary scale. Any mistake that he made could be penalised by a reduction of the pay. That was specifically spelt out in the contract that he had to sign if he accepted the job.
When all these were explained to him, Michael kept quiet. When was asked if he understoodand, he replied in the affirmative. He understood what was happening to him, but he did not understand why. However, he did not want to ask questions about money. He wanted to concentrate on what he was supposed to do. If he did not get the work right, the money would not matter, he reasoned. He did enjoy himself quite a bit because he got to know many people during lunch. They teased him a little because he was the youngest, but they treated him like one of them.
On his way back, he thought about Jimmy. A tear flowed down his face. He hoped that he had made Jimmy proud. He remembered the words Jimmy said as he was leaving that night he died, "I never loved you." His sadness became deeper but he refused to believe him. He reasoned that if he did not love him, there would have been no urgency on Jimmy's part to leave. He knew and yet he needed to know for sure. Another tear formed when Michael realised that he might never know for certain.
Martin sat up in the dark, breathing heavily. It was a nightmare. His T-shirt was drenched with sweat and he decided that he should change it. He could not continue sleeping in a wet T-shirt. He got up, took off his T-shirt and draped it over the back of the single chair he had in his room. He walked over to the chest of drawers. The light from the street-lamp was illuminating his room so he did not need to switch on the lights. He glanced on the clock on the top of the chest of drawers. It was a quarter past five. He shrugged. He had better not sleep. He usually woke up at six.
He went about the daily routine, though in a more leisurely manner. He got dressed and looked at his watch. It was quarter to seven. Usually, he would leave the house at half past seven and reach the office at eight. The leisurely pace with which he went about the daily routine was not slow enough. He still had three-quarters of an hour to spare.
He decided that he should enjoy another cup of coffee. Starting up the machine, he made a big mug of coffee, then sat down to drink it. He usually got the newspaper as he was going to work and then read it during the lunch hour. He wished that he had something to read now. As he did not do any reading at home, he did not see the need to bring any of the newspaper back from the office. With nothing to read, the coffee finished quite quickly. It was seven.
Martin decided not to fight with fate and walked out of the flat for the office. He reached the office at half past seven.
"Mr. McBain, you are early today," the security guard said when he spotted Martin.
"Yes, I got up too early."
"Heh, heh, it happens some time. Good morning."
"Good morning."
Martin went into his office and decided to check his email. He would have an extra half an hour to read all the mail and answer them.
Michael had decided to run to work. It was his second day, but he had already checked out the toilets and found shower stalls. He thought it would be a good idea to have a run and then take a shower before starting work. As the days were still not too cold, he wore a thin white T-shirt and a pair of running shorts. He had his workclothes in a bag that was slung across his body. From his flat, he did some warm ups and then started his run. He reached the centre at ten to eight. He had made good time. He had run at least for twenty-five minutes at a not too fast pace.
He wished the security guard as he reached the centre. He had asked the security guard the day before when the centre would be open so that he could come in early. The security guard thought that running was a good idea of exercising but had asked him if it would make him too tired for work. Michael agreed that what the security guard said made sense, but decided that he would try running to work first and then decide if it would be better to run after work.
He did not go into the building immediately. He spent about three minutes running in place before slowing down and then doing some simple stretches. He needed to cool down before taking his shower.
Martin was looking through his memos when he felt nature calling. He realised that he should not have taken the additional cup of coffee. He went into the toilet and got into a cubicle. As he got out of the cubicle, Michael came into the toilet with his bag in his hand. His white T-shirt was wet and had stuck to his body.
Michael had not seen Martin, but Martin had spotted Michael immediately. The older man noticed how the younger man was built and stopped in his tracks. Michael on the other hand was walking with his head down until he noticed a shadow. He looked up and saw Martin looking at him.
"Hi, Mr. McBain."
Martin was brought back to reality. He nodded his head and said, "Good morning, Michael. Is it raining outside?"
Michael gave a soft laugh. "No sir. I just decided to try running to work and see if it helps to bring up my energy levels."
Martin was feeling guilty about staring at Michael. He simply replied, "I see," whilst washing his hands.
Michael did not notice the reaction his boss had. He took off his T-shirt and stretched his arms upwards. Martin had just finished washing his hands and then turned to witness this. He smiled at Michael nervously and said, "Make sure you are not late starting work."
"Yes sir," replied Michael. He thought to himself, "Sheesh, doesn't he think of anything else?"
Martin's heart began to beat faster. He told himself that he had to calm down. Why was he feeling this way? He had never felt this way before. What was happening? Was he attracted to this boy? How can this be? He reached the office and sat down. He totally abandoned what he was doing. He needed to calm down. He needed to get the image of the half naked boy out of his mind. He was also aware that his dick was responding to the image he had.
There was a knock on the door. Martin panicked. No one should see him in this condition. He was seated, of course, but his heart was beating very fast and he knew he did not look calm. He managed to say, "What is it?"
It was Sally. Martin was glad it wasn't Michael. "Yes Sally?" He glanced at the clock above the door as he asked. He noticed that Sally was early today.
"Mr. McBain. I was hoping ... are you okay? You look pale."
"I am alright. What can I do for you?"
"I was hoping that I could start early today. I would like to leave early, too. I think my boyfriend is going to propose tonight."
"How much work do you have today?"
"I have to finish with Mr. Mile's computer and change the graphics card on the Fire Chief's computer."
Checking his work list, Martin said, "According to the schedule, you have already upgraded both the motherboard and sound card for Mr. Mile's computer. All you need to do is to run the general maintenance programme and then clean up the inside of the computer."
Sally nodded her head.
"Tell you what, run the general maintenance programme. Then, supervise your trainee as he cleans the computer. Leave the graphics card to me."
"So I guess that Michael will be watching you change the graphics card," Sally asked.
Martin started to panic again. He quickly gave an affirmative answer and said, "You wanted to get off early? Better start now."
Sally was puzzled as she came out from the office. Martin almost chased her out of the office. She had noticed that he had suddenly become pale. She did not particularly like Martin, but she hoped that he was not ill.
Martin was slowly getting back into control until Sally mentioned Michael's name again. Michael's torso came to his mind the moment Sally mentioned his name. He did not want to be near Michael today. Looking at his work schedule, no one could accommodate Michael. He had given Sally a lighter load because Michael was assigned to her. There was no way to avoid this.
The words of the young man who was shot came ringing back. He had promised a dying man that he would take care of his friend. Was Michael that friend? With his emotions running wild like that, he wondered whether he was able to fulfil that promise.
----- to be continued.
Author's note: Comments are welcome, positive and negative. I need them to improve my writing. Thanks.
solark36@yahoo.co.uk