The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
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DeCeMBer LuLLaBy 01 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Do you see what I see?" Jean-Claude's friend sings into his ear one of the verses of `Do You Hear What I Hear?'.
Looking up, Jean-Claude responds, "So what of him?" Glancing down at what he's doing, pouring a ladle of chicken soup into one of the soup kitchen patrons bowl, he mutters, "Another late one. I suppose he expects the full menu?"
"Oh c'mon J-C. It's Christmas for God's sake. Lighten up a little bit. Besides, you've got to admit he is kind of cute?"
"He's a bum like the rest of them, here today and gone tomorrow... their only interest is getting their bellies filled and a roof to sleep under."
"Y'know J-C?" Denny complains, "You're so damn cynical. I don't know why you even bother' to work the soup kitchen when you're always so cheerful' like this?"
"I do it because you ask me... because you're my friend... because you saved my life and you won't let me forget it!"
At least Denny got a small, positive response out of him. "Not to mention our firm helps support the soup kitchen?"
Denny saw it, Jean-Claude finally pulling out of his depressive mood when he said, "It's bleeding me dry, that's what it's doing!"
"Yeah right J-C. That's why you put that $778,000 condo you own in Wesley Grove up for sale!"
"I haven't put the condo up for sale."
After giggling, Denny tells him, "I was joking. Get it?"
He got it, Jean-Claude giving Denny a cross between the evil eye and a humorous smirk. "I get it."
Then Denny cuts in, "Don't look now, but here comes... hmm, the closer he gets, the better I like!"
"Really Denny? You want to pick up every cute guy that walks in the door. Don't forget the rules."
"Those darned rules," Denny says, cracking a smile.
However it was just in time, as the scruffy looking guy approached the long table of hand outs, a large ceramic plate in hand with a few bits of beef and vegetables atop.
"Roll?" Denny asks, still the smile he flashed at Jean-Claude interspersed with the serving.
"Um. No," the guy responded.
Contrary, Jean-Claude lifted the ladle and asks, "Want some?"
"Yeah, okay," the kid said, lifting his plate up to accept the small bowl of soup.
He wasn't into prying, especially when he constantly reminded Denny of the rules about fraternizing with the transients who came and went, but for some strange reason he did when he usually doesn't do, linger too long at looking at a guy. Like checking him out, Jean-Claude made a quick scan of his personage from the table up. Similar to the others, the wayward kid smelled, had hair sticking out of his wool cap, gloves with the fingered part cut off, coat with noticeable holes in it and... then he snapped out of it, saying, "That'll be all. Um, you can come back for seconds if you want."
"Thanks," the guy said, passing by Jean-Claude, onto the next soup kitchen worker.
"Seconds? Really J-C. What's it say... um, rule number twenty-three," Denny picks out of the air, "Strongly discourage patrons from coming back for seconds?"
"There's no set rule and you know it!"
"Right J-C. Like the last time a guy came back for another handout you chewed him out, saying if everybody did it, you would...."
Denny shutup immediately when the same young guy came back, stood in front of him, then said, "I guess I'll have a roll."
After Denny fulfilled the guy's wishes, Jean-Claude cleared his throat and said, "Really Denny? Two rolls? Isn't `one' the normal portion?" Jean-Claude does the thinking, "What is it.... um, rule number..."
"Okay. You've made your point J-C."
For the rest of the evening, that guy became the focus of Denny and Jean-Claude, watching him to see him woof down the plate in front of him, almost like he was inhaling the soup and swallowing big chunks of bread.
"Looks like he hasn't eaten in days." Denny comments.
"Or weeks?" Then Jean-Claude slips and says, "Poor kid probably hasn't had a good meal since who knows when."
Then as much as to say J-C is getting soft on the kid, "Probably. Why don't you make up a plate for him to take out?"
"Right. And then everybody else will be wanting the same. Use your head why don't you Denny?"
"I was only joking J-C. I mean... don't have a cow!"
But their friendly argument was interrupted when John, the guy in charge of the sleeping arrangements butted in, "Don't fight over it gentlemen, but which one of you's wants to be the one to inform our guests' the hotel' is filled?"
Denny knew he wouldn't be the one since Jean-Claude was on the board, head honcho because the architecture firm he owned foot the bill, cutting expenses right down the middle. It wasn't the first time this had happened, but it didn't make Jean-Claude's job any easier.
"Attention everyone," he spoke into the microphone positioned up on a platform resembling a crude stage, "unfortunately all the beds are taken for the night, so I suggest you make your exit as soon as possible and head down to `Good Hope'." He hated saying it, knowing these people wouldn't have much chance of it, but uttered anyway, "Have a happy holiday." Unlike weekends before, Jean-Claude lingered at the mic and focused on one individual for a period of three-quarters of a minute. Then he made exit, jogged down the three steps, passed behind Denny and reported to his station behind the tall soup pot.
By the time he lifted the ladle, `that' kid was standing there asking, "Alright if I have some more?"
Purposefully the twenty-eight year old stirred and stirred the pot. For conversation sake he said, "See if I can dig up some bits of beef for you."
"Beef?" the kid responded. "I thought it was chicken!"
Denny leaned over to confirm, "It's chicken J-C."
Upon hearing it, the hitcher says, "JC, huh? My brother's name is J.T. Well that's what they called him."
It seemed like there should be a response. When Denny didn't say, because he had a `customer', Jean-Claude asks, "Your brother, eh? Is he here?"
"Oh no. J.T. is not at all like me. He's smart. He's in college."
"Is that so?" It irked Jean-Claude now, knowing a tidbit, but the mention of a brother in college and what `they' called him, piqued his interest to know more.
"Right. Um, so can I have some more?" Then looking around at masses of empty spots at tables, he asks, "That is if I'm not taking food out of somebody else's mouth?"
Jean-Claude did the same spot check. "I can't see why not. Come back for as many helpings as you want, um?"
"Kevin's my name," and then the obvious, "and you're JC."
"Well yes. That's what Denny calls me, but he's the only one. My real name is Jean-Claude."
"French isn't it?"
"Yes. My family emigrated from France to here a couple of generations ago." Then it left it opened to ask, "What about your family?"
Just then Denny reaches over and places a handful, four rolls on Kevin's plate.
"Thanks," Kevin replied and proceeded to his seat.
"Now what'd you go and do that for, stoopid?"
"Do what? The crowd's dwindling. There's going to be leftovers anyway," Denny replies.
"I didn't mean `that'. I just got Kevin talking and you interrupted!" Jean-Claude says, using the soup ladle for a baton to relay his position on the issue.
Denny jokes, "Um, you want to put that weapon down?"
Then so no one could hear, "Yeah. Right on your balls!" He teases Denny, pouncing him softly on the crotch.
"Hmm... do it again and you could get an erection out of me!"
"Shutup!"
The two always talked like this to each other. They met while in college, the first semester. A twister tore through the midwest town with a vengeance. Jean-Claude could have been sucked out of the opening in the dormitory wall if it hadn't been for Denny grabbing hold of the belt on his waist and pulling him out into the hallway. It's the same incident in which they each found out the other was gay. Seems the two huddled together for dear life and while waiting to be saved grew intimately close to each other.
Slapping J-C in the chest, Denny says, "Hey look! Kevin's leaving."
"I wonder where he's going?"
But Denny brought up what both knew, said time and time again, "We can't save everyone, J-C."
"You're right."
As the two worked cleaning up the aftermath, Jean-Claude couldn't keep Kevin out of his thoughts.
"How old do you think Kevin is?" Denny asks.
"Can't put Kevin out of your mind, huh?" Jean-Claude accuses Denny.
"Like you're not thinking about him?"
It was another thing, the two not only clicking for four years, going through the gay cycle of discovery, but often one or the other knew precisely what the other one was thinking.
"Okay, so I `thought' about him. What's your point Denny?"
"Oh nothing," Denny replied in a whimsical tone, off to the kitchen with Jingle Bells trailing.
But it seemed like Denny's questioning was the force behind the champagne's uncorking, Jean-Claude's thinking about Kevin more and more. Sitting there in the hall he was oblivious to the goings on around him, tables being cleared, the white paper coverings removed, the noise of them being crinkled up for the garbage and the repositioning of chairs. Alone, he was shaken out of his deliberations when the lights dimmed.
"We're closing up, Mr. Lomberiou," John said.
"He's not being himself right now," Denny made excuse. "I'll get the lights."
Not looking up or getting up, Jean-Claude tapped his fingers on the wooden surface of the table, taking a last sip of his coffee.
"You wonder what ever becomes of boys like Kevin."
"Kevin? A boy? He's more like... well almost like when we started college."
"That would put him at like eighteen. Nah," Jean-Claude assumes, "he's young. Maybe sixteen."
"With a thick beard like that?"
"Hmm," Jean-Claude thinks on it for a few moments.
Then, out of the blue, Denny jokes, "I think you're in love, J-C."
It grabbed Jean-Claude's attention fast. "You're out of your fuckin' mind!"
Denny knew of J-C's temperament and he `never' cursed unless he was ticked off. "Sorry there J-C. Didn't mean to rock the boat, but..."
"C'mon. Let's get out of here."
"Wait. I've got to get the lights," Denny replied.
Not waiting, Jean-Claude made for the side door which led to the parking lot. Denny lived about twenty-five miles inland, so spent every Saturday night at Jean-Claude's condo. After dousing the lights, he clicked the lock on the inside and made exit. By that time Jean-Claude had brought the car around, a Mustang Taser in `solar gold'.
"Taxi service," Jean-Claude addressed Denny as he opened the passenger side.
The same routine for the last couple of years, Denny says, "Give me a blow job and we'll call it even!"
The two thought so much alike, Denny looked to the right for cars coming, same time as Jean-Claude, before entering traffic. However this night was a little different.
Pushing Denny's chest back into the seat, Jean-Claude asks, "Is that Kevin?"
Refocusing, Denny looked out his window and down the sidewalk. At the bus station, a small glass enclosure, a police car was pulled up in front, lights flickering.
"Looks like his coat."
Pulling around the corner, Jean-Claude parks right behind the patrol car.
"You're not stopping are you?" Denny asks.
"Would you?" Jean-Claude questions.
"You've got a point there," Denny says. Sure he would. Jean-Claude and Denny weren't too different. There were times when they could predict what the other would do or say.
Upon the scene, Jean-Claude nods at the cop before asking, "Is that you Kevin?"
"You know this guy Mr. Lomberiou?"
"What's the problem, Mike?" Denny asks as their eyes linger too long.
Good-natured, Officer Knight tells, "Caught this guy trying to turn this bus stop into the Hilton!"
Jean-Claude blurts out, "The shelter is full for tonight."
Pushing his cap up on his head, Knight relays, "Oh then this makes it double tough. Just heard. `Good Hope' hasn't any beds either."
"I'm not out to give anybody any trouble," Kevin stands up for himself. "I'll hitch out of town. Somebody's bound to give me a ride."
"Where to?" Denny says.
Shrugging his shoulders, Kevin replies, "Anywhere. Someplace. Anyplace where I can start life over again. I thought New York City might be a start. Yeah. That's it. I'll hitch a ride to the city."
Mike Knight joined the Asbury Park Police Department going on two years ago. It's exactly how long Jean-Claude and Denny have known him. At times their paths crossed inside or outside the parish hall where the soup kitchen resided. At times they would meet at `Paradise', the gay nightclub. Jean-Claude would stand there nursing a beer and laugh his ass off at Denny and Mike dancing like they knew how to!
"City's an awful place for a young kid to wander, especially at this time of year," Mike says, staring at Jean-Claude.
"Right," Denny agrees. "not to mention drugs and other things which can snatch a kid up."
Wise to them, Jean-Claude asks, "And what are you suggesting, Mike?"
"I'd take him home, but I got a... um..." Only recently Mike has come out and it was tough to say, but he took a deep breath and said, "I've got a guy coming over later, Jean-Claude and...."
"No problem," Denny replies. "Right J-C?"
All this time Kevin is taking it in. Sure, he didn't want to put anybody out. It wasn't how he viewed life. Traveling nearly cross country he slept outdoors if a home wasn't offered up to spend the night, which became the case at times. Sometimes a trucker would offer his cab.
Looking at Denny, Jean-Claude shifted his attention several times, his eyes darting between Mike, Denny and finally settling on Kevin. "Well what do you think Kevin?"
He gave the same response he's given a few families who took him in, "I'll be gone in the morning real early."
It led to a small conversation and while Jean-Claude and Kevin talked, so did Denny and Mike.
"So what's this guy look like who's coming over to your place tonight, Mike?"
"Met him at Paradise this week. Nice. Real nice Latino." Looking into the black, star-studded sky, Mike tells it, "he was dancing with his buds, waving his shirt in the air and..." Mike laughs, "whipped me right in the face!"
Denny joked, "Did you arrest him?"
"No, idiot! I wasn't on duty. You know I never go to the Paradise in uniform unless I'm on duty." After a second of silence, Mike saw Denny waiting for more juicy bits. "Next time around I grabbed his shirt." Mike giggles, "He was ready to punch my lights out. Instead, using his own shirt, I reeled him in, caught him up in my arms, pressed our bodies together and started hammering his lips. Man what a hot kisser!"
"He didn't try to pull away?"
"That was at eleven. We left Paradise at two o'clock and..."
"And?" Denny probed.
"Went back to my place."
"Oh, so this isn't the first time you two are getting it on?"
"What can I say? He liked my nightstick up his ass so much he's coming back for more!"
"Mmmm. Got room in bed for one more?"
"Not this time Den. Mario isn't like all the other take-homes."
"Something serious, Mike?"
"Could be. See where this pajama party goes..."
Then Jean-Claude shouts, "Ready Denny?"
Before he leaves Mike's presence, Mike says so only Denny can hear, "Maybe you'll have your own little `threeway' yet!"
Denny joked back, "Yeah," but he already had an idea about what this night held for him, so already had it in mind to pick out a juicy DVD and lay in his bed', his room', jerking to two or more guys rolling around in bed up on the HD screen.
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Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.