If you are not of age of consent in your area (18 or 21), please do not read on. I never got that rule, I mean who needs access to erotica more then lonely gay teenagers? Anyway, that's the rule. If you're offended by gay men having sex, or being in love, then what the heck are you doing here? Go away.
This is my story, I wrote it from my own mind. Any relations to events in real life is purely coincidental. Do not reprint this story without permission.
This is going to be a multi-chapter story, there will be no sex for the first couple of chapters, sorry to disappoint.
Please be nice. If you don't like it I don't care, unless you can tell me why you don't like it. Then I am very interested. Thank you
Mason
Finally Home
Chapter 2
I hate moving. I really, really hate it. It is so annoying. I try to do as little actual grunt work as I possibly can. This was a problem I contemplated as I left the apartment that was to be my new home. Just then the teen center flashed into mind. I volunteer at this teen center in our neighborhood. It's for local kids and has some programs for at-risk youth and a runaway shelter. It also has your basic enrichment stuff, like study groups, art, creative writing and Karate. I teach creative writing, and assist with Karate among other things. I like working there because it keeps me in touch with the age group I write about, and the kids are a blast. What teenager wouldn't want to make a spare $50 on a Saturday? I smiled at my brilliance as I changed my destination and headed toward the teen center.
The teen center is a converted catholic church. Some people said it was a sacrilege when Father Patrick moved all the pews out of the sanctuary and converted it into an indoor basketball court. Actually in the winter we use it for all the sports, soccer, football, wrestling, and Karate. The old fellowship hall in the basement is full of some old video games and a bunch of table games, like ping-pong, and air hockey, and that soccer game with the little guys all lined up on poles that I can never remember the official name for. There are some small classrooms that were once Sunday school rooms that have been converted into bedrooms each holding 3 sets of bunks. We cater to runaway teens, right now only 20 of the 24 beds are filled. It's a long-term shelter and the kids have to be in school, and passing, and following the center rules, to stay. Father P, as the kids call him, lives in and runs the shelter. About 8 of the live-ins were kicked out of their homes when their parents found out they were gay. I also run a support group for them. There are some bigger Sunday school rooms in the basement as well, those we use for the classes and the tutoring sessions, and other larger get-togethers.
I decided that I would start by asking the kids in my support group, since I always gave them my address anyway, and I really didn't want anyone else at the center to know exactly where I lived, besides Father P. The church is one of those old gothic buildings, with stained glass and the whole works, it has a fenced in court yard in front that we use when it's warm. Today it was bustling with activity. Kids were playing basketball, a huge group of girls were playing double-Dutch, and a whole assortment was off in one area playing music with a heavy beat and dancing like crazy. The first one of my group to spot me was Willie. He'd only been at the center 3 month, and was still a mystery to us, as he refused to talk about his past, only that he was gay and his parents had thrown him out. He was also my favorite, I could tell he came from money, and I suspected that his story was similar to mine, but I didn't push. Willie ran up to me with a twinkle in his blue eyes, his mousy brown hair was tousled, and his cheeks were pink from exertion and he was breathing slightly heavy.
"Hey T." He smiled at me as he fell into step beside me. I slung my arm over his shoulder.
"Hey Willie. What you been up to?" I steered us toward the dancers where I had spotted two other members of our group.
"I was playing basketball. I miss being on the team."
"We have intramurals here starting soon, you should join." In the past month Willie had started to open up more and more, not talking about his past much more then vague references, but making some friends and getting involved, I was happy to see him tearing down his walls. I could see the breeding and rules that he has been force fed from childhood fading away as he became a normal, and happy 14-year-old.
"Really?" He asked, excited at the prospect of being on a real team agina. I nodded. "Cool. Why are you here?"
"I'm looking for some workers to help me move next Saturday."
"Really?" His eyes lit up again.
"Yep." We stopped outside the group of dancers and I got Martin and James's attention and they trotted over. Martin and James were brothers, Irish twins I believe is the saying, their only 10 months apart. Martin's stepfather had caught him messing around with his boyfriend, and when James stood up for his younger brother they were both kicked out. They're truly beautiful young black men. Both taller then me, and still growing, with the most perfect skin I've ever seen. James is a football player and Martin is a swimmer. They're in their senior year and have been at the center for two years now. They're both in the running for athletic scholarships at DePaul in the fall. Their mother comes to visit them on the sly every Sunday.
"Wassup T?" James said and we bumped fists.
"Yo T." Martin and I bumped fists as well.
"Y'all busy next Saturday?" They all shook their heads.
"Ya wanna' make $50?" They all nodded excitedly. I smiled.
"Good, ya wanna' help me move?"
"Sure."
"Yeah."
"Cool."
I left three grinning teenagers and headed into the building. I found Paddy and Tony making out in a dark corner of the converted sanctuary. The two lovebirds had been caught making out by Paddy's very Irish tempered father, who informed Tony's father (who's Italian, not Irish, but a homophobe either way), and thus they ended up here about 6 months ago. They have one of the healthiest relationships that I've ever seen between two teenagers. I quickly got their agreement and left them to their making out. I found the three musketeers, as we call them, playing air hockey in the basement. Mitch, Gary, and David are all runaways from the foster care system. They were in the same foster home and after their foster father found out the were all gay, he began alternating between beating them and raping them on a daily basis. He's in jail now. These three all see a private counselor uptown once a week as well as being in my group. They're all recovering quite well. They happily agreed to help me and when I left them they were so excited at the thought of a spare $50 they were jumping up and down like 8-year-olds. After stopping in to talk to Father Patrick for a minute I headed home.
The week flew and by Friday I was totally packed and ready. I woke up early Saturday morning and packed up my bedding and duffel bag with all my overnight stuff. I stopped at a bakery and picked up enough donuts to feed an army and a gallon of milk. Then I went to the u-haul place and picked up my moving van for the day, and headed to the center to get my group.
It was a very excited group of teenagers piled into to cab of the van. There were so many of them that most of them had to stand back in the cargo area, peering through the doorway, they all eyed the pastry box hungrily.
"OK, guys, I'm going to take you to my new apartment first so you know how to get there from here if you ever need me, you guys can meet my new roommates and we'll eat there and then we'll head over to the old place and load up. Sound good?"
They all agreed and we headed out. The trip was short, and peppered with questions about the new roommates, were they cute? Were they gay? Did they know I was gay? I dodged the ones that I thought were none of their business and answered the others. Do they know about our group? Willie was the one who asked, and the group was suddenly quiet, waiting for my answer.
"They know you're a bunch of guys I know, that's all." All the guys looked relieved and all started talking at once again.
I had warned Brian that I was bringing a bunch of teenagers to help me move. So when we got there and I let us in I was surprised that he was standing in the kitchen his boxers looking half asleep. Michael was fully dressed and leaning against the counter drinking coffee as we entered, the same place he had been in when we first met him. I noticed Brian wasn't smiling. He also wasn't wearing a shirt, which was immediately noticed by my guys who all stopped and stared at his incredibly well defined chest as they entered the room, some of them even had their mouths hanging open. Brian groaned at the noise of our entrance and I could tell he was hung over. Michael grinned at the boys and his brother.
"Guys?" I tried to snap them out of their staring. Finally I stamped my foot, like trying to get the attention of a deaf child, and yelled "GUYS?" They all snapped out of it and looked at me as Brian winced and grabbed his head at the noise.
"Geez Toby, do you have to be so loud?" Brian whined.
"Am I being loud Bri?" I asked in the loudest voice I could without yelling. He clutched his head and gave me a pleading gaze. I decided to give him a slight reprieve, so I turned back to my guys.
"Well guys these are my two new roommates, the one with clothes on is Michael." I pointed towards Michael and he waved at the group. "And the half naked one is Brian." I said as I patted Brian's back heartily, causing him to groan. "If you'll notice Brian, a healthy guy in his mid-twenties, is hung over. Tell the audience how your feeling Brian."
"I feel like shit." Brian was rubbing his temples.
"Which is why you shouldn't drink guys." I said in a teacherly tone.
"Thanks a lot Toby." Brian mumbled.
"No, thank you Brian." He looked at me quizzically. "Thank you for helping me demonstrate the dangers of over drinking to these fine young men."
Brian shook his head at me and then his patented grin broke through as he clapped me on the back. "No problem dude. Now are you going to introduce us to all your friends?"
"Sure," I smiled, glad the Brian wasn't angry at me for using him as a public service announcement. "These are some friends of mine from the teen center, over on 8th avenue. The brothers grim in the back are James and Martin. Then we have the Irishmen, Paddy, and the Italian stallion Tony, and then the three musketeers, Mitch, Gary, and David. And then the little guy, as we call him, is Willie." The boys all waved as I called their names. "And for invading you guys so early, and embarrassing Brian, I brought breakfast."
I smiled as the donuts were opened and everyone started munching. The boys made themselves and home around the table and the breakfast bar, and Michael and I poured milk and coffee while Brian ducked out and returned with clothes on. Everyone chatted and got along really well. I knew the subject would come up eventually, it was Michael who started it; I was beginning to see that he was the one who noticed everything.
"How do you guys know Toby again?"
"From the teen center." Dave supplied. Dave was one to speak with out thinking first.
"You work there right?" Brian asked me.
"Volunteer. I run a creative writing workshop and a couple of other groups." I was being evasive and I could see that Michael noticed. "It helps me keep in touch with my subject matter." I supplied trying to change the subject.
"What kind of group are you guys in?" Michael asked. I closed my eyes to keep from cringing.
"Support group." Dave supplied and then went white realizing what he'd just said.
"What kind of support group?" Brian asked innocently. The room went silent. I opened my eyes see all James exchanging looks with all the guys. James was the leader of the group in times like these; he stood up to the bullies for all the guys, and he was always nominated to talk to Father Patrick with any problems the boys were having. Being the oldest brother of his own family he was quite comfortable with this role. I watched as they came to some silent agreement, and James turned to me with the question in his eyes.
"Go ahead and tell them if you want to." I answered his unspoken question.
"We all live at the center." James started "We all got kicked out of our homes because we're gay."
Brian suddenly started to laugh and turned to look at me. "Damn dude, do you know any straight people?"
"Not really." I said with a shrug.
Willie got the implication first. "Are you guys gay too?"
"Yep." Brian said with a grin.
"Cool." Grins spread throughout the group.
And that was that. I was very proud of my boys, for being so honest, and I told them so as we were driving over to my old apartment to start loading up. They were bubbling over with how cool and hot my new roommates were. They all wanted to know if I was after one of them, I told them no and explained the 'no hanky-panky' rule.
"Yeah, but which one would you go after?" Asked Mitch, he was the persistent one.
"I don't know." I said as I thought about it. "I like Brian because he's always smiling, he's funny, and seems like a lot of fun to hang out with. But I like Michael because he's serious, he notices everything, and he's calm. So I don't know which one I would choose." I think it was that conversation that got me thinking about it. Which one would I choose? It was a dangerous line of thinking and I tried to avoid it as I supervised the loading and transporting and unloading of all my worldly belongings.
I had the boys setting up my bed frame, and making comments about the fact that it was "queen" size, and hanging the hooks for my bike when Michael popped his head in and offered to buy everyone pizza for dinner. The boys were practically giddy and the idea, so we agreed after a quick call to Father Patrick to get official permission. While Michael took David to get the pizza I took Willie to return the U-haul. He was in a very good mood.
"It's so cool to meet your roommates. They are so cool."
"Yeah, I'm lucky to have found them. It's hard to find normal roommates in the city."
"There cute too." He smiled conspiratorially at me. I had to agree.
"That they are." And again I was asking myself the question, which one would I choose if I could? I shook myself after a moment and ordered my mind to stop thinking about them romantically. We returned the truck and hopped on the train to get home. We arrived just before the pizza and dug in. It was a fun evening. We watched some action movie and the boys had a blast.
For lack of the moving van I decided that I would walk the boys home, when I announced this Michael furrowed his brow and suggested that he and Brian go as well.
"You shouldn't walk home alone." He explained, and I was touched that he was concerned for my safety. It had been a long time since anyone cared enough to do something like that. Brian liked the idea of an evening walk, so we set off.
The boys were exhausted from all the work and excitement, but they still managed to talk and laugh through the entire walk. Gary, Mitch, and Dave did a moving three stooges skit that had us laughing so hard we had to stop and catch our breath. Brian blended right in with the kids, playing and goofing with them, and Michael and I walked behind. We walked the guys into the building and I dolled out there pay for the day. While the boys gave Michael and Brian a quick tour of the main building and their bedrooms I stopped in and told Father Patrick that we were back, and had to give him a rundown of the day. Father Patrick is a great guy, his absolute devotion to the teens of this area is what has kept the teen center running through many lean times. He was happy with my report and went to get the boys to bed while I collected Brian and Michael and we headed home.
The walk home was peaceful compared to the first half of our trip. We walked in a companionable silence for a bit before I spoke up.
"Hey Brian I want to apologize for raging you about your hangover. Father Patrick likes for us do stuff like that, you know, teach them 'lessons from life'."
"Don't worry about it Toby, I did drink too much, I don't mind being an example."
"OK." I smiled, happy he wasn't mad at me.
"Those kids are great, Toby."
"Yeah, they're strong kids."
"They worship you." I gave Brian a curious glance. "Seriously, while you guys were gone they got to talking about all the times you've helped them and about how much the support group helps them. They just love you."
"I love them too." I smiled to myself.
"Which one's you favorite?" Brian asked after a moment of silence.
"Willie." I said without thinking. I quickly added, "But don't ever tell them that."
"Why is he your favorite?" Michael asked softly.
"Because he's a mystery, and he reminds me of myself."
"Why's he a mystery?"
"Well we don't even know his last name, which is actually a good thing because if we did he'd have to go back to his parents, because he's so young, and even though he still won't tell us about them he's clearly terrified of being sent home. He's only been with us for 3 months, but he's already a different person then he used to be."
"How does he remind you of yourself?" Michael wanted to know. I didn't answer for a moment, letting the peace of the dark streets lull me into answering honestly.
"Well, I suspect he comes from money."
"How can you tell?" Brian asked suddenly interested.
I paused, not wanting to insult them. "Well it's just a suspicion, he reminds me a lot of myself when I was first ejected from my family."
"You have money?" Michael asked.
"No, my family does. Not me."
"So how can you tell?"
I hesitated again.
"Why don't you want to answer?" Michael asked quietly.
"Well," I paused and took a deep breath. "Look I don't know how you guys grew up, I stopped caring about that shit a long time ago, but I don't want to insult your upbringing by preaching about the evils of family money."
"We were poor as dirt growing up." Michael said, I heard a smile in his voice.
"Yeah, Michael and I shared a room, and our room was actually part of the living room with sheets hanging from the ceilings for privacy, our sisters got the only bedroom besides our parents room. But we were happy, had everything we ever needed, never went hungry, and all four of us finished college. So you can be honest."
"Money is a blessing or a curse, depending on what you do with it Toby. So explain, how could you tell he was from money?" Michael added
So I explained, "In my family, life was centered around proper society. What was expected, what was proper. You had to have more then everyone, and know more then everyone. You have to be prim and perfect. Show no emotions. And most importantly you have to know your place. My place was on top. I was the eldest son, it was my job to graduate from Cleveland Academy with honors, go to college and law school, just like my father, marry a beautiful girl, have at least two sons, and take over the family empire. When you grow up with that you come out of it thinking you're on a pedestal, that you're better then everyone. I was 16 when I realized I was gay, before that I bought into the hype. You see I was the top man at Cleveland, most money, most clout. But then suddenly I was one of those people that the adults made jokes about at parties and that my father was certain were destroying America. That made me aware of how much bullshit it all was. So my father found out I was gay and stopped talking to me about a week before I graduated as valedictorian, as I was expected to. The moment the last guest left my open house my father had me packing. I was disowned, and I left and never looked back."
Michael let out a low whistle as I stopped for breath. But I continued before either could talk. "So Willie had that same I'm-better-then-you attitude when he first came to the center, he looked down on everybody, especially the black kids. But James had him figured out; James has the best gaydar of anyone I know. So he had the other guys keeping an eye on him, making sure he didn't get his ass kicked because he's only 14, the youngest of the live-in's, and one day James and his brother saved him from getting raped in the shower by a couple of day kids. After that Willie started looking at the world in a whole other light. He's gotten more and more human since then."
The guys on either side of me were silent for a moment, taking it all in.
"You know last week I checked the roll at Cleveland, and the only Jamison was a girl." Michael looked at me sideways.
"When my family disowned me the only person who would still talk to me was my grandmother, so I took her maiden name."
"So?" Brian asked expectantly
"So what?" I smiled, playing dumb.
"What was you last name?" I didn't answer. "Come on tell us." Brian begged.
"Cleveland." I finally said softly. Michael stopped and turned to stare at me.
"You?" He said with a look of total disbelief on his face.
"Yes, I was royalty." I referred to the term Cleveland students used to refer to students who were related to the founding fathers of the school. Michael stared at me for a second before shaking his head and turning away. We started walking again. There was a peaceful silence again as we reached our block.
"You're famous you know." I looked at him sideways with a question in my eyes. "They call you the lost Prince because no one knows what happened to you."
Brian suddenly started laughing as we reached our building. As we entered he gasped out "They should call you the lost queen."