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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AUGUST apprentices 03 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Did you hear that?" Brendan asks.
"It's four o'clock in the morning."
"No, I don't mean the alarm. Sounded like....."
Jean-Claude heard the sound and recognizes, "The doorbell?"
This time it was more convenient for the two to dress in robes and they still tied them as they jogged down the steps.
"Heavy sleeper," Brendan says of Tariq, still snoozing away in the livingroom.
Sneaking a peek through the blurred glass motif on the front door, Jean-Claude reports, "It's Mike Knight!"
With a few clicks, Jean-Claude has the front door open. "What's up?" he asks Mike.
Both of their attention are drawn from Mike to who is walking in behind him, carrying a suitcase.
"One of the fellas," he meant his cop buddies, "found him down on the beach, under the boardwalk."
After the fact, Jean-Claude turns away from Mike, to his sidekick, "Where are you staying, Sebastien?"
"Um, I didn't have a place, so I thought I would camp out on the beach and see about findng a place tomorrow... which is today."
Brendan and Mike exchange glances. They know, in their line of work, Sebastien was the same as thousands of other people, on the move, coming from nowhere and going nowhere.
Having the routine down, Brendan asks, "Let me ask you something... how much money would you happen to have in your pocket?"
Sebastien replies, "Um, I have about..." the twenty-two year old fishes his wallet out of his back pocket, "about...." he opens it, adding a slight smile to his answer, "about three bucks?"
Seeing Mike to the door, Brendan got rid of him quick and at the same time tried to get any bits of information out of him. "So, you're from Ohio, Sebastien?"
They took the conversation to the kitchen. First thing Brendan noticed, is when he came in there last night, the place was heaped with his and Jean-Claude's dirty dishes, the stove splattered and the table messy. Now there wasn't a speck of dirt anywhere. He peeked in the dishwasher and found nothing. The cabinets revealed where the dishes went to.
Before Jean-Claude got down to business with Sebastien, he awards Brendan, "Thanks."
"For what?"
"Last night. I completely forgot about cleaning this place up!"
Brendan was eager to hear Sebastien's story, so took the credit with a smile and began to assemble a pot of coffee.
"So now what's this all about Sebastien?" Jean-Claude led in, the two sitting at the kitchen table.
"Believe it or not, I once had a lot more than three bucks in my wallet!"
Like a judge in a court of law, Jean-Claude states, "Continue."
And then he couldn't shut up Sebastien if he wanted to. As the coffee perked and Brendan set about placing some cheese danish on a plate, they heard about Sebastien's past life, "Life was great growing up. My dad was in the aeronautics division of Green Space. You've heard of it right?"
First Jean-Claude, then Brendan both shook their heads, `no'.
"Doesn't matter. All that really matters is we had a nice big house to live in and I drove a brand-spanking new corvette to school everyday. But then again our high school was like that. There was a balance of rich and other classes, but I ranked up there in the higher percentile, according to parental wages. But one thing my dad taught me was to be honest and one should do an honest days work. We had a great relationship. That is until my last year of college. I guess you say I blew it. Maybe if I mentioned it to my dad when I found out I was gay, around the fourth grade, it would have prepared him for it." Stopping dead cold, Sebastien obviously dealt with a lot of guilt.
Again, Brendan knew where this was leading, but let Sebastien tell it in his own words. And as if he was in the precinct, he led the witness, "Prepared for?"
"Spring break. This past spring a bunch of us college dudes went to Cancun. It's the problem with cell phone cameras and video cameras. Hardly anybody checks with anyone when it's posted on Tubulure and then it's too late. Worst part, one of my father's colleagues at work brought it to his attention. First he clued my father in to what he saw, then when my father confronted me it was obvious he had seen it too."
"Saw?" Jean-Claude asks.
"I was sleeping in bed with another guy. The sheet wasn't pulled up and you could see our bare asses. My chest was to the back of this other dude and my arm was around him, my hand apparently someplace in his pubes. At least that's what you would guess until you saw the closeup." And then tearing away from the images on the screen, "My father went ballistic when he saw the posted video of my hand around the other guy's cock."
Using his detective skills, Brendan inquires, as he pours a cup of coffee, "Did he use words or assault you in some other way?"
Sebastien took the cup of coffee offered, took one sip, set it down and pressed his shoulders back in his chair, a deep exhale exiting his lungs.
"Because if he did, there could be a cause to press charges."
"I don't want any trouble for him or myself. I just want to forget the past and get on with my life."
"It's up to you," Jean-Claude put his two cents in. But he was also a businessman and thinking of Sebastien's welfare, "However, I would think on what Brendan is saying. It's a tough thing starting out all over again with only three bucks in your pocket?"
Thinking about it, Sebastien levels with them, "I suppose I've wanted to get this off my chest." He took a big gulp of coffee and a bite of danish, then another sip, then proceeded to devour the danish in between sips. "Here goes. You know, the whole time I hitched across country I've never told anyone about this. I made up some wild story about running away to seek my own fortune. Three bucks! Some fortune, huh?"
In all serious, Brendan asks, "What about your father, Sebastien?"
"We had a lot of money. Mom was hardly around, but my father wasn't exactly a homebody. Either each was off doing their own thing or off together on some business trip. I had my choice, but there's only so many times I could take going to Paris. Anyway, I stayed home and every chance I got I had a friend over or went to his house."
"And who was there to chaperone you?" Brendan asks.
"A cousin to my father, but staying with us, she kind got caught up in the glamor of high end living and could care less of where I was, who I hung out with or if I made curfew or not. And I can't believe my father was paying her!"
"Why didn't you rat on her to your father?" Jean-Claude asks.
Sebastien breaks the stern look, producing a smile, "Because then it would not be as easy to slip away and have sex with some guys or have them over. It's one of the reasons I chose not to go along on those Paris jaunts. Freedom!"
More territory not covered, Jean-Claude wanted to hear more, when Brendan states, "I know the feeling!" But it was Sebastien's time, not Brendan's and he would find out some other time.
"So your father looked on Tubulure and saw you naked in bed with another guy, your hand around this guy's cock. And you said he went ballistic?"
"Maybe even more. He called me into his office at home and acted like nothing unusal was happening. He told me he wanted to talk to me about something. I figured college, maybe the next trip to Paris, or something he bought for me and was ready to bestow it upon me. But things didn't seem right this time. Unlike other times... well other times he did close the two sliding doors to his home office, but this particular time he threw the latch, locking us in." Sebastien got dramatic, using his hands to help explain, "Then he fires up the big screen Tv and right away the Tubular logo comes on. I just wondered, No! This can't be.' It made me sit up straight in my chair. I asked him, What is this?' and he answered, `You tell me!'. I didn't really have to say a word. It was there in living color. Duke and me in bed in the raw and as the camera zoomed in, my hand wrapped around Duke's cock. I don't know what kept me from pissing my
pants!" Sebastien sat there in the kitchen of Jean-Claude's home, but he reacted as if that day this past spring, sitting in his father's office and being put on the spot. He sweated, taking the napkin to wipe his brow.
"Did your father get `violent' over his reaction?"
"Violent? Hardly the term to use for his behavior. More like animalistic. First picture the man, six feet, two inches tall, muscled, two hundred and fifteen pounds. He really had it over my five foot, ten inches. All I can say is he took his anger out on me. I never received such malicious treatment as that day. I don't know how many times he punched me in the stomach. My nose was bleeding and by the time he finished working me over I felt like I was dead. If it wasn't for Terry I probably would have been."
"Who's Terry?" Jean-Claude asks.
"The gardener. Well, former gardener. He was right outside and I suppose he happened to see inside... the wall of my father's office has a lot of glass. It overlooks the greenhouse and pool. Anyway, Terry is twenty-nine, taller than my father and more muscular. Thank goodness he is. He picked up the wheelbarrow and tossed it through the big window pane and came to my rescue."
Brendan asks a sensitive question, "I know this is none of my business, but were you and this Terry `involved'?"
It made Sebastien blush. "I guess you can say he's shone me a few things."
Before continuing, Brendan exchanged glances with Jean-Claude. "Then what happened?"
"Like my father didn't hold back, neither did Terry. He was bigger and stronger and literally at one point picked my father up and threw him across the room."
"He didn't...." Jean-Claude asks for the worst reason.
"No. Terry didn't kill him, but messed him up pretty bad. But I suppose if I hadn't been beaten into the condition I was in, Terry might have gone to jail."
Brendan had it all figured out, "Which means you would not press charges against your father, if you father didn't do the same with Terry, I take it?"
"Yeah. Exactly. The only difference between Terry and me is Terry got some money out of it. For me, I got cut off without a penny, stripped of my car, college education and left with whatever I could carry in my suitcase."
Jean-Claude questions, "And what did your mother have to say about all this, Sebastien?"
"Who?" he answered sarcastically.
Brendan sums up, "I take it she took it badly too?"
In a pleading manner, Sebastien lashes out, "My mother? What mother? If she was ever around!"
Both Brendan and Jean-Claude felt for Sebastien. Launching himself out of his seat, Jean-Claude rounded the side of the table where Sebastien sat hunched over, his arms pushing his dish out of the way so he could hide his feelings with his head down. Placing his hands on Sebastien's shoulders, he rubbed them, saying, "You're not the first person to come to this house with nowhere else to go."
Looking up, Sebastien looked pathetic, eyes all red and his nose loose with runniness. "I know. Kevin told me."
Brendan, still a bloodhound on the trail, asks, "Did you go to the hospital after this event? See a doctor?"
"I saw the campus nurse. I made him promise not to say anything."
"What's his name?" Brendan asks, getting up for the pen attached to the fridge, sitting to write on a pad he retrieved as well.
"Why?"
"Why? Because I think it's a damn shame a parent treats a child as this just because he's gay. It's unfortunate your father found out about this in the way he did, but it's still not an excuse to go off the deep end and almost kill his son!"
Jean-Claude wanted to applaude for the different side of Brendan not detected before. In bed he was passive, but professionally he stood like a warrior.
"Oh," Sebastien sighed.
"So?" Brendan clicked the point of the pen in and out, "Got a name for me?"
"I kind of made an agreement with John, not to have it put on record?"
"John who?" Brendan asks, writing `John' down.
"He'll be mad as hell with me if I tell," Brendan reports.
"Not if we go about all of this the `legal' way."
Thinking about it, Sebastien theorizes, "Can't we just let this go. I've really had enough of it."
Proud, was putting it mildly, the way Jean-Claude was feeling about Brendan at this moment.
"Sebastien, do you realize how many young people are in the same boat as you are right now?" He didn't let Sebastien answer. "You are one of the lucky ones. Some are locked into religion and are attempted to being brainwashed. Most times it doesn't work and it leads to suicide or runaways. I'm not elaborating on the suicide point of view. Others runaway and get roped into sex rings. Fortunately for you, you came into Jean-Claude's office today looking for a job. The point I'm trying to make is, if we don't pursue this... well let's just say if we `do' pursue this, it will be one more case on the books in earnest of trying to bring public awareness to the issues surrounding homophobia, especially from one's own family."
`Bravo'! Jean-Claude thought. But then he too voices opinion by asking, "So Sebastien, do you have a name for Brendan?"
"John Shuck."
"Like rhymes with...?"
"Yeah, that's it," Sebastien tells Brendan.
"And this `Terry'. Last name?"
"Do you have to bring Terry into this?" Sebastien asks.
"John, Terry, your father, your mother, the person you went to stay with that night you were beaten?"
"I didn't say I...."
"I know you didn't, but after John patched you up I'm sure you were in no condition to stay alone. If I'm reading this correctly, John would not have gone against the rules unless he cared for you so much?"
Sebastien further confesses, "John let me stay at his apartment on campus. It's not the first time I had been there."
Amazed was the least Jean-Claude felt, seeing the information Brendan was calmly drawing out of Sebastian. He relinquished his post as comforter and busied himself with doing up some eggs.
"And Terry?"
"Terry Rhodes."
"Where is Terry now?"
"I don't know. He worked for a private company. I think he picked up and left town."
Folding up his investigation for now, Brendan says like a professional, "That's all the questions I have for you now," and on a lighter note, "don't leave town!"
It made Sebastien smirk, saying a quaint, "Thanks, but I don't know how all this is going to pan out."
"You leave that part to me," Brendan replies. Then he made fun of Jean-Claude's cooking, telling Sebastien, "It almost smells good enough to eat. What do you think?"
And Sebastien honestly answers, "I think I'm one lucky guy to happen to walk into the right office yesterday. Thanks for taking me on!"
The three, their attention was drawn to the doorway of the kitchen, Kevin rubbing both eyes with both fists balled up, his mouth wide open and his vocal chords exercising the biggest sound of a yawn. He informs Sebastien, "Think nothing of it, Seb. J-C makes a project out of taking in gay runaways!"
While Jean-Claude, Sebastien and Kevin laughed it off, Brendan was cooking up something and it wasn't eggs!
Preferring cereal, Kevin helped himself, trying to persuade Sebastien into the same eating habit, finding the Cap'n Crunch in a cabinet, same one as yesterday and the day before, a bowl and didn't excuse himself when he whacked Brendan in the rear with the refrigerator door.
"Well excuse me!" Brendan said to Kevin, putting on airs.
"You're lucky it was your butt and not your head, Bren!" Jean-Claude mentions.
"What's the difference?" Kevin asks.
All this time, Sebastien is watching the three ring circus. They have a lot of fun around here, something contrary to his recent life with his former family.
When Kevin got settled at the table, he asks, "So you ready to hose down the other side of the building today?"
Jean-Claude and Brendan began following the conversation. Having something else in mind for Sebastien, Jean-Claude waited for Sebastien's reply, maybe get a feel for what he's about, possibly find some interest, allow Kevin to more or less assume the position as `interviewer'.
But quite to his astonishment, Sebastien asks, "If it's what Jean-Claude wants me to do?"
It was tricky. Sometimes people ask a question as this, meant as, unless there's something better to do'. Right on target, Jean-Claude replies, "There are' other things needing to be done."
"Oh really, J-C?" Kevin picks up on it. "What do you want us to do?"
"Um, well.." Jean-Claude cleared his throat and started in on a reply.
Brendan was reading his lover's intentions loud and clear. He knew Jean-Claude's response was meant for Sebastien's ears and not Kevin's, so intervened, "Y'know Kevin, I was totally amazed at how fast you moved those bags of stone chips from the truck to the building. You're quite strong you know?"
Knowing some of Sebastien's past history, Kevin knew he had three years of college under his belt. For himself, barely graduated from high school and already saying he had difficulty claiming a major for study, he knew what was going down here, looking back and forth, from Jean-Claude to Brendan. Even though he joked around a lot, he knew he would never stop being grateful for all which was done for him, so made it easy on everybody, "Sure, and I can make your `vacation' more pleasurable by helping you out again today, Brendan!"
"Pleasurable? How do you mean that Kevin?" Brendan asks, a big grin on his face.
But Jean-Claude stole the stage, explaining to Sebastien, "I was thinking," he directed to the twenty-one year old, "you said you had began studying mathematics. How would feel about following Emre around and...."
"I don't think that's a good idea," Kevin says.
They all knew it was joke. Especially Sebastien, him saying, "I don't think Jean-Claude means it that way Kevin!"
"Oh," Kevin replies, digging back into his crunchy cereal. As the three talked business, Kevin's mind reeled off onto tangents, first thing coming to mind, Sebastian, Tariq and their double date last night. He knew where he stood with Emre, but he wondered, if by chance if Tariq and Sebastien developed some type of relationship, his curiosity drove him into thinking which position each would be in bed. He wondered if Tariq would follow in Emre's footsteps. After all, Gazi was a top, Emre's a top and as it stood, Tariq was undefined. Then something caught his attention in the conversation between Jean-Claude and Sebastien. "Apprentice? How come I can't be an apprentice too?"
Always there to help his other half, Brendan jumps in with, "I thought you liked being my apprentice Kevin?"
"Yeah. Great Brendan, but who is going to be around to show me what to do when you're vacation is over and back to chasing the bad guys?"
His memory recalling his and Jean-Claude's conversation, Brendan sighed a long exhale and pushed his back against the chair. Gone was the merriment of a few minutes ago.
"What'd I say?" Kevin questioned the lukewarm reaction.
"It's not you," Brendan replies.
And to shield Brendan from any other barrage of questions, Jean-Claude directs to Sebastien, "See if you might have an interest in building and..."
"Thanks very much Jean-Claude, but I really have had a goal of becoming a math teacher in a public or private school," Sebastien shot him down.
"I see. Well you can't knock a guy down for trying!"
"I can follow Emre around," Kevin offers. Thinking this was heading the way things weren't meant to go, he changes direction, "I kind of liked the hard labor stuff. You know, carrying the bags of marble chips. Hey, I didn't even mind keeping the outside of the building clean. If you've got anymore of that stuff to do I can do it!" With that said and out of the way, Kevin picks up the juices left in his bowl, tilts it to his lips and sucks down the leftover milk. Placing the bowl back on the table he burps. "Oh! Did I do that?"
"You're such a slob Kevin!" Brendan labels him.
While Kevin and Brendan batted back and forth insults, Jean-Claude wished Sebastien all the luck in the world and promised he would find something meaningful for him to do for the rest if the summer around the office.
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Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....