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, nor governmental areas, which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offences 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. This is fiction. Use protection, in real life.
FOR SALE BY OWNER 54 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Watcha doin'?" Scott asked, peering over Kyle's shoulder.
"We've got a problem," Kyle responded.
"Huh?"
"This," Kyle slid the pen down the list, "is the list of friends I've decided to invite to Alex's birthday party."
"Wow! You two sure have a lot of friends." He noticed himself and Reiko on one line. However, he did question, "Um, do you think we can add Mathieu?"
Kyle wasn't sure. He wasn't sure about what Scott and Reiko had going, at the same time picking his mind with thoughts about Scott's interest in Mathieu and where that was going. But he figured he'd let Scott handle it, replying, "Sure. We can add Mathieu to the list!" Kyle paused for a moment.
Scott detected question on Kyle's mind. "I know what you're thinking and..." Flopping down on the sofa next to Kyle made the cushions jiggle about as their butts collided. "Sorry 'bout that," Scott apologized.
"And?" Kyle replied, dropping his ass next to Scott
Answering Kyle with a smile, Scott continued, "Anyhow, Mathieu and I got along really well this afternoon. It was like we grew up together... like we've known each other for years."
"So I got the impression."
"I like Reiko... but... I like Mathieu too. What do I do, Kyle?" Scott said, frustrated as all hell.
Immediately Kyle set to writing in one more name.
With eraser to the pad, Kyle began etching out Mathieu's name.
"You're uninviting him?" Scott asks not wanting Mathieu's name deleted from the list.
Smirk on his face, Kyle renders, "Better you find out now than later which boy you're intested in."
"Okay. If you say so," Scott said, smiling back as Kyle retracing the faint lines of Mathieu's erased name with his eyes.
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"Make a right at the next stop sign."
"But I thought you said home was 'that way'," Jim pointed west, out of the 4x4 dash.
"My stomach is grumbly. How about you?" Jack slapped Jim's stomach hard, his fist grinding against his abs, lingering like he punched gut and left it there.
"If you're trying to turn me on Jack, it's working."
"Is it now?" Jack said, his hand flattening out from fist to palm, his hand curving around Jim's zipper area after sloping down Jim's stomach. Same time, his eyes dropped from the smiley face to the tube in the middle of Jim's thighs. "You need it bad, huh?"
"I never thought about it til after Bill brought me to the party. But now I'm thinking..." he glanced over to Jack as he stopped for a car making a turn in front of him, "I think it has a lot to do with who's doing it to me. Make sense?"
Withdrawing his hand, Jack smiiled, answering, "Just wait til I get you home!"
Jim turned right. Soon the traffic dissapated, the street turning from a major thoroughfare into small town America.
"This isn't Hyland Falls by chance?" Jim questioned.
"Yup! This here is the city," Jack responded as they passed by the post office, a small square brick building.
"Not much to it," Jim assessed, watching the local deli and drugstore pass by them.
"Pull in over there," Jack directed Jim to the only empty diagonal parking place.
"Nice bike," Jim said, paying more attention to the black Harley than the edge of the sidewalk. "Oops!" he said upon hearing the edge of the bumper make contact.
"Your hide," Jack simply said, making good on his threat of giving Jim a whooping if he as much as put a scratch on his 4x4. Without saying more, he lifted the door handle on his side, making his exit.
Following suit, Jim let himself out. Jack led them both into the 'Hudson Cafe', so the sign above the door read. As they entered, Jack reached into the front window, grabbing an eight-by-ten piece of cardboard, displayed in the window lying on it's side.
"What's that?" Jim inquired. Holding the sign up, angled as if an eight-by-ten portrait, Jim crooked his neck and read, "Help wanted?"
Walking up to the counter, Jim tossed it flatly onto the counter as he said, "Here's your man, Bill."
It didn't take Bill, a man in his forties, to pick the stranger out of the crowd. "Looks kind of young," came the response, along with Bill automatically serving Jack up a cup of java.
"Ain't gonna find nothin' better around these parts," Jack said very convincingly, in a country-boy drawl.
Jim wondered what the wink meant.
"Is that so?" Bill said, leaning on the counter, eyeing Jim up and down.
Sparsely populated, but for four men sitting across the cafe having a jovial time on their own, the cafe between remained deserted.
"I'll watch the shop for awhile. Why don't you take Jim here in the back for an interview?"
"Jack?" Jim asked, concerned.
"Make me proud of ya, boy?" Jack said in his best 'playacting' vocal rendition of a master.
Not sure of what all this meant Jim was a little concerned for his own wellbeing, but deep down inside he felt a sense of trust. For sure he thought Jack wouldn't put him in any real danger. Relief came over him as Bill said, "No problem. My nephew is staying on for awhile. Yelling so all ears could hear, "Hey Travis, get yer ass out here!" Bill summoned him.
"What's up Uncle... Bill?"
Almost the image of his Uncle Bill, Travis stood there. Instead of a beer belly hanging over his belt, Travis portrayed the image of a football player. Wide chested, the white apron he wore bulged across his middle as if being a size too small. The two, paying too much attention to each other, didn't see Bill and Jack staring at each other, grinning.
"On second thought," Bill says, breaking the fixation the two had on each other, "maybe Travis should handle the interview. You up to it, Trav?"
"By all means," Travis said, his hands behind his back undoing the bow of the apron.
As if asking permission, Bill says to Jack, "Alright if Travis 'interviews' your boy, Jack?"
First glancing at Jim, seeing him smile, Jack returned, "Fine with me."
"Follow me," Travis instructed Jim, Jim admiring the widestance of Travis' bod, shoulders spread out, his belt moving with the sway of his torso.
Walking in the back room, Jim asked, "Where are we going?" when they came to a stairway.
"You'll find out," Travis replied as he walked up three steps.
At first he hesitated, but when Travis asked, 'You want the job or not?' Jim commenced with the uphill climb. Strange thing, he wasn't sure for what job he was applying, another thing he trusted Jack with. Seemingly Jack trusted Bill, so like a domino effect he felt comfortable with whatever the interview entailed. Entering a room, Travis closed the door behind him. Jim faced a bed.
"Um, I don't know about this," Jim said. Turning around he was doubly unsure. "Don't interviews take place in, like an office?"
With a premise to entice, Travis stood there lifting his A&F athletic dept. tee shirt up, revealing a fanned out contour of dark brown hair enveloping his pecs, his deep bellyhole dead center, a darker treasure trail down to his metal buckle.
Lifting his head from Travis' abs, Jim's eyes met with a smile and staring eyes.
"Like what you see?"
"Nice," Jim replied.
"Why don't you come over here and strip my shirt. I bet you'll like what you see, more!"
"Is that so?" Jim replied. Seemingly falling under Travis' spell as he approached the six foot bodybuilder.
"Go ahead. I've got some nice, suckable nips waiting for a hot tongue and a bath. All ya gotta do is lift off my shirt!"
"Sensitive nips, huh?"
"Yeah," Travis replied proudly. "Gives me a real hard boner," he said as one hand fell from his 'half-up' shirt to his crotch.
Saying, "Cool," Jim took hold of the tails of Travis' gray tee and pulled it down over his belt.
"What tha?" Travis replied, after Jim dropping the proud, happy look. He then exclaimed, "Ohhhhhh shit!" when Jim dared to reach out and grasp the two tiny nubs outlined on the chest area of the tee.
Travis very quickly lost all control, his authority over Jim deteriorating, losing his grip on Jim's hands as his nips were mashed. "Oh fuck!" he called out at the excruiating pain causing the throbbing pleasure below his belt.
Only Jim's right hand was quicker than the eye, dropping down, beating Travis to the zipper area.
"Oh fuck yeah!" He called out between the moaning, even though only one nip was being pleasured, Jim pleasuring somewhere else!
Then Jim stopped altogether with the mashing and fondling of `cock-through-pants hold' he had on Travis.
"Ohhhhh," Travis whimpered. "Why'd you stop?"
"Excuse me," he slighted Travis on his way out, opening the door. "I don't think I'm interested in the job. But... thanks all the same for the 'interview'."
More stunned than anything, possibly a slight blow to his ego Travis stood there, jaw dropped down, already figuring out where he went wrong in enticing this bottom boy to pass up a chance to eventually suck the delectable treat between his legs. "Uh wait a minute there...uh Jim," Travis suddenly awoke out of his selfmade dream.
Jack's head moved from back door to front as Jim whizzed by, picking up the sign from the counter.
"What gives?" Travis' Uncle Bill asked, his attention following along with Jack's, the two seeing Jim drop the sign back in the window.
"I'll be in the truck," Jim said before taking his leave, the door slamming behind him.
"Jack? What is this? I thought you said...."
"Later," Jack said, downing the last sip of coffee.
Because he couldn't get anything out of Jim, Bill turned on his nephew. "Travis?"
His hand on the cab door, Jack hesitated a minute. Opening, he was greeted by Jim's profile, a stern look staring straight at the windshield like in a deep fog. Parking his ass on the seat, Jim asked, "I take it you and Travis didn't get along?"
"Was I supposed to?" Jim coldly replied.
"Don't take it so personally, Jim. Bill and I thought since this was Travis' first time and all... and you being new at this well..."
"And when were you going to rush in? When Travis was ready to shove his meat up my ass?"
"Huh? What're you talking about, Jim?"
"Wow did I ever get the wrong impression," Jim suddenly detoured the conversation.
"Wrong impression?" Jack asks, "How's that go?"
"Last night when you made love to me. Fucked me. Said stuff like how I was the only guy for you... blah, blah, blah..." Jim spoke his mind, ending in a blaise manner.
Sliding his butt across the seat, Jack says, "I meant every word, Jim."
"Funny way of showing it, setting me up with another guy and...."
"Wait a minute. I have a feeling here we're not on the same page," Jack said, holding up his hands for `time out'.
It then occured to Jim something amiss. "Wait a minute. I have a feeling what you and Bill thought was happening wasn't happening."
"I `think' I got what you said. What'd you say?"
Then he spelled out his conclusion, "You and Bill didn't know Travis took me upstairs..."
"Upstairs?" Jack questioned. "Bill thought... `I' thought you and he were going to the office in the back."
"Not the case. However, Travis tried putting on some roleplaying act like he was a big bossy `master'."
Jack says matter of factly, "Well I know Travis was trying to follow in Bill's footsteps."
"Don't tell me. Bill and you share the same `hobby'?"
"We've done some playing together," Jack said of their mutual BDSM interests.
Out of nowhere, Jim let out a forced laugh, "Ha! If Travis is trying to be like his uncle, he sure put on a piss-poor act!"
Thinking about it a second, rubbing his stubble, his index finger gliding over his stache, Jack replies, "That bad huh?"
Exaggerating, Jim says, "I almost had him on his knees servicing me!"
"This isn't going to make Bill happy."
"Bill?" Jim asks. "Um, like doesn't anybody give two hoots what Travis wants?"
Giving in, Jack realizes the truth. "Bill wanted to believe so bad Travis was a top, well...."
It then occured to Jim, "Oh. So, was it yours and Bills plan to use me as a guinea pig for Travis?"
He wanted to deny it, but since this relationship was looking serious, Jack decided to tell all. However he didn't come right out with it, instead asks, "You aren't angry at me are you?"
Jim paused like he was thinking. He then cracked a smile, saying, "Nonsense. How can I be mad at..."
"Hmm?" Jack asked after a short interval.
He wasn't used to following but after Jim reached over, grabbed the back of his neck and reeled him in for a lip-lock, Jack dropped all inhibitions and let himself go. Right in front of the Hudson Cafe, Jack twisted his bod so he could stretch his arms around Jim in some fashion, returning the power of love Jim had over him.
"I guess you heard," Came from Jack's side of the truck, through the half open window.
"Can't a man get some privacy?" Jack scolded Bill, but not in an angry mood.
Bill looked across the cab at Jim, then back at Jack, telling him, "I can't believe Travis wimped out."
It kind of ticked Jim off. Sure, he didn't like the manner in which Travis was conducting the `interview', but what Bill said rustled some feathers. "Um, you know this isn't some roleplaying master-slave thing you've got going here. This is real life, man," Jim addressed Bill rather cooly. "Don't you think Travis should have a say in what he likes and dislikes, instead of feeling pressured in going along with what somebody else likes?"
With two hands on the truck, Bill backed away, his attention on Jack, instead of Jim who had positioned his bod on the seat so Jack remained a prisoner to Jim's upper half. As Jack added, "The boy has a point there, Bill."
For now Jim let the `boy' slide.
As if nothing was said about Travis, Bill says out of the blue, "Your boy want that job or not?"
Correcting him, Jack says, "I think maybe Jim might still be interested in the position."
It was on the tip of Jim's tongue to say something, when Bill rendered, "Be at the cafe tomorrow morning at nine."
"How does Bill even know I `want' the job?"
"Will you take it if I ask you?" Jack replied.
"I dunno."
As with Jim, Jack twists his torso and finishes out where Jim left off, his hand behind Jim's neck.
Breaking, Jim says, "I guess I could try' it. Um, Bill's not going to pull any of this master-boy' stuff? Because if he is I'm outta here."
"Nah. Bill? Bill gets a little `psychotic' sometimes, mixing daily life with the imaginery." Then smiling, Jack tells him, "If he steps out of line just hit him with what you laid on him five minutes ago. Bill needs a little remembering his place from time to time."
"He won't haul off and smack me? Won't take me out back and give me a thrashing?"
"Nah."
Lightheartedly, Jim says, "Oh darn'it!"
"Are you ready to go back in there and eat?"
"This the only place to eat in town?" Jim replied.
"Back up," Jack said of Jim behind the wheel.
As Jim drove, Jack dealt out the directions, taking them back on the main drag. As they traveled, Jack was curious what happened during Travis' `interview'.
After explaining Travis' detour from the back of the cafe, up the stairs to the apartment above, he lay on Jack, "I mean he was ready to divide and conquer if I'd-a allow him," Jim set the record straight.
"Nah," Jack brushed it off. "Bill and I talked about it. Wouldn't have happened."
"Is that so? And just when did you and Bill have this little private conversation regarding my welfare?"
"Oh. Well you were busy in the jon, so I...."
"So you planned something behind my back?"
Jack hadn't thought of it that way, but thinking about it now it was clear as black and white. "Um, I suppose."
Hesitating at the light after it turned green, Jim remained silent.
"You can go. The light's green."
Not looking to his left, Jim continued on.
After having enough quiet in the cab, Jack says, "I guess I don't know much about being in a relationship. `Suppose I've got a lot to learn, huh?"
After that it was tough for Jim to keep up his annoyed facade. "You know you're pitiful, Jack?"
"Right turn," was Jack's only reply as if he didn't have anything to support himself in debate.
As Jim turned Jack's ass slid across the seat in bombardment with the side of the twenty-four year old's bod.
"Take it easy huh?"
Detering thought, Jim responded, "Travis. He's nothing like either you or Bill."
"Like me?" Jack asks, fastening his seatbelt.
"A total wimp-out. Those clamps you had at the bdsm party?"
Jack replies, "Alligators."
"Yeah well Travis' nips are like begging for them!"
"Travis? No way. Bill assured me himself he's not into things a bottom would enjoy," Jack assured Jim.
"Oh really? Then tell me how a guy gets a raging hardon when his nips are being pulverized?"
Jack didn't believe Jim, so Jim reiterated the whole story from entering the room to slapping Travis' hand away from his own cock because of the shocks traveling from pecs to pubes.
"Something's wrong here," Jack simply put it.
"Sure is," Jim replied, finding his way back to the main drag. "Which way?"
"Left."
"I mean," Jim jumped back on subject, "if it went the distance I bet you ten to one it would've wound up where I was humping Travis."
Grinning, Jack replies, "Oh really? Hmmm... now wouldn't that be a sight to see. A tough bodybuilder like Travis, having his ass split open."
"I'm not into fucking guys," Jim assures Jack. "Left?"
"Right," Jack replied, correcting Jim, "No, not right!"
"You said `right'."
"I meant right' like in correct-right'?"
The wild driving set off sirens, a police vehicle pulling up alongside them, Jim forced off the road by the long arm of the law.
"Now look what you did, Jack!"
"Let me do all the talking," Jack replied as Jim unrolled the window. "No sweat," Jack added as he peered in the large square mirror on Jim's side of the truck. "It's Craig Nelson. This'll be a piece of cake."
By the time the twenty-eight year old police officer reached the 4x4, Jack was standing next to Jim's side of the truck.
"This boy drunk or something?" Officer Nelson said, immediately making glances at Jim.
Switching the subject, Jack alluded to, "I saw how you were checking him out at Sonnemaker's party."
"Yeah. Looks like he could be a lot of fun?"
Knowing where this was headed, all too well where this could go, especially since Jack owed Craig a favor. Stemming from one of his casework files, a guy on parole missing his meeting with Jack because he overran a stop sign, between friends, this could go in the wrong direction for Jim.
Nelson depressed the truck door handle.
Jack slammed the door shut, protecting Jim.
Jim sat there wondering what all this was about.
With quick-thinking Jack asks, "By the way Craig, have you met Bill's nephew?"
"Travis Coffman?" Nelson replied. "Yeah. `Was talking to him just yesterday. Built," meaning not only the bulging biceps, "he's got a good attitude."
Attitude, the policeman and Jack well knew the meaning, in relation to how a scene could play out when a hot top guy called the shots and ruled the action.
Nelson then reasserted his hand on the truck cab door, "Hey, maybe your boy here, Travis and me could...."
The truck door slamming shut a second time made a thud, along with Jack telling, "I think maybe you would have more fun breaking Travis Coffman, huh Craig?"
"What are you talking about? Travis is a tough son-of-a-gun like his uncle. He was captain of his varsity football team. He works out seven days a week down at the Hyland Sports Center. I've seen him. He's as tough as nails," Craig disagreed with Jack's opinion.
"Oh really?" Jack stirred up some doubt. Stretching the truth a bit, based on Jim's information, Jack builds up the differing opinions, "I hear Travis Coffman likes to be tied down and have his nips played with til he shoots his load!"
"You're lying!" Craig replied. However, his mind on playback, he pictured Travis working out at the gym, spotting for him, seeing his pecs dance as his muscles twitched, his quarter-sized nips hard as rocks, poking through his dark pec fur. Starting to feel some pulses down below, Nelson said, "You're not lying to me are you Jack?"
"Would I lie to you, Craig?" Jack fibbed.
"And all this time that boy's..." the cop suddenly belittled Travis... "I'll catch up with you later. Watch the roads," he directed at Jim before about facing and heading back to his patrol car.
Once again returning to his seat, belt in place, Jack says, "Shall we go?"
"This puts us even I reckon?"
Both knew what the other was feeling, Jim unbuckling so he could lean over, Jack doing the same, the middle seat of the truck becoming a lover's haven.
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"Counting up your loot?" Ian says to Alex as he opens the envelope handed him from Stephen Braddock. "A thousand bucks!"
"Hey, gimme that!" Alex says, reclaiming the Braddock's gift certificate.
"Holy shit! I didn't even know they made'm in this big of a denomination. Hey guys...."
Rolling his eyes, Alex grabs up his tips and another envelope, a combined gift from Ian, Derek, Phil, Jim and Bill, two tickets to see In The Heights', a show Alex boasted about, not only for the storyline, but it's hot-looking studly star, Lin-Manuel Miranda! Alex put his head in his hand as if a reflection of shame, but really wanting to just get his stuff together and get on home instead of sharing his million-dollar' birthday gift from the department store magnate.
"So what do you and Braddock have going Alex?" Phil teased, as he stood at his station, folding linen napkins.
"Nothing, okay? He's a good friend of Kyle's father... now can I have my gift certificate back?"
Phil did as asked, passing it on to Derek who made similar comment, Ian finishing it off, "If I were Kyle I'd watch my back!"
Finally able to snatch the plastic card back, Alex quips, "Jealous Ian?"
Shrugging his shoulders, Ian replies, "I'd do him!"
It then became a runaway joke, Phil busting on Ian, saying, "I thought you were a full-fledged bottom, Ian?"
"Want me to prove you wrong, Phil?"
"Nobody's touching this ass!" Phil, the only straight member of the Coffee Bean crew, was quick to reply.
Breaking up the jovial mood, Alex donned his jacket and replied, "Thanks for the tickets guys. See ya on Monday."
The subject of which way Ian swung became old news, the topic surrendering to why Alex had Sunday off, the trio having to pick up the slack for both he and Jim's unexpected absenteeism.
One thing Alex liked about getting off early on Saturday nights was the ending shift of several of the area eateries, coinciding with four o'clock in the afternoon. Sitting on the subway it wasn't the first time he traded off glances or smiles with a couple of the guys, seemingly his own age. As happened once in awhile, a show had a command performance so this afternoon the subway was unusually crowded. For one stop fronts and backs were sandwiched in til the doors opened, releasing bodies like torrents of rain down a spillway.
"Um, this seat taken?" Came a small voice, wrapped up inside a bundle of a guy.
"Nope," Alex replied, even though he was eyeing up the ten other open slots on the subway.
"I, uh saw you come out of the Coffee Bean a coupla times. You work there?"
Saw?' Alex immediately questioned, thinking, stalked'? "Yeah I work there. How about you?"
"Me? I'm new to town. I'm staying with my brother. Say, do you know if they're hiring?"
"Hiring?" Alex quizzed the guy back, also trying to determine if this guy is of working age.
"Yeah. I thought maybe if I was pulling my own paycheck I could find a place of my own instead of relying on my bro. Besides the apartment he has downtown is kind of small, him having a wife and kid and all."
Alex actually thought the guy kind of cute, more like his brother Michael, who will be a senior in high school next fall. Then something else cut loose his thoughts of family. If this guy's brother lived downtown, why was he taking the subway uptown?
"So what's your name?"
"Michael Coelho."
For a minute there Alex smiled, putting Michael's face and actions alongside that of his brother, making comparisons. Then he set back on track seeing what he could dig up about Michael. But not before Michael asks, "And you?"
"Alex... Alex Nouguet," Alex shared his hand. Then he quickly detached asking, "So where are you from?"
"Where am I from?" After a hesitant pause Michael replies, "St. Louis. My brother called me one day and asked why didn't I come out for a visit. Then after awhile he asked me to stay."
"He have a nice place downtown?"
Michael replies, "Um yeah. He's only a couple of blocks from Central Park. I go there a lot to walk his dog."
Now Alex knew there was something screwy going on with this kid. Central Park was no where south of the Coffee Bean, more near Kyle's townhouse area, intersecting with the Park Ave. crowd.
"What kind of a dog does he have?"
"Um, a collie or something. Some kind of a mutt," Michael replied.
When the subway car hit the brakes, Alex announced, "Well it's nice to meet you Michael. This is my stop."
"Oh... okay Alex."
However when Alex stood to get up Michael followed his direction, grabbing onto an overhead strap to pull himself up. Exiting, Michael exited too.
Turning around in the gloomy subway station, Alex asks, "Um I thought your brother lives downtown?"
"He does."
It's then Alex notices Michael readjusting a backpack on his shoulder, something he didn't see before. He starts putting one and one together. "If your brother lives downtown, you've traveled quite a distance in the wrong direction Michael."
"Oh yeah," Michael said as if just realizing it. "No problem though. I'll just hop on the next train and head on back... downtown." Michael started heading away from Alex, mentioning, "Maybe I'll see you around the Coffee Bean again. See ya."
Another thing clear to Alex, yet totally wrong with everything here that was happening, Michael turned around and headed for the platform they just exited the train from. If Michael got on the next subway he would be heading further uptown. In his own opinion, chances are he would never be seeing Michael again. Now his mind crowded with thoughts of his own' Michael. Very close to his own siblings, he wouldn't allow his' Michael to fall prey to any dangers, being out in the world on his own, a thought which crossed Alex's mind.
"Hey Michael!" he called out over the screeching wheels of the subway entering the station.
"Huh?" Michael said, trying to look over his shoulder for who it was pulling on his backpack, causing him to exit the subway turnstile backwards. Little did Alex know he was about to hop over!
Losing his balance, he almost fell. If it hadn't been for Alex catching him, his hand grabbing Michael around the waist, his palm against Michael's belly, the kid would have wound up with his ass on the ground.
"Alex, you made me miss my ride," Michael said when the air had cleared of the subway roaring out of the station.
Watching Michael readjust himself, Alex did catch a glimpse of the UCLA sweatshirt hiked slightly above Michael's waist, a dark trail connecting navel to beltline.
Putting it to Michael, Alex asks, "You don't have a brother who lives downtown do you?"
A bit adamant, Michael replies, "Do too! He lives in the village, down on.... on.. on uh..." he spotted a poster advertising `Cafe Fiorello, between 63rd and 64th streets, so said, "between 63rd and 64th streets."
With a look of doubt, Alex, who had just about memorized the inside of the subway station, summises, "Oh, then he must live at Cafe Fiorello?"
"Look, I gotta be going... bye!"
As with making his way onto the subway, Michael's thoughts of leaving Alex in his dust were dashed as he was once again drawn backwards on his feet, by the reins of his backpack straps.
"What are you doing, Alex?"
Taking a chance, Alex replied, "I have a place where you can spend the night."
"I've got a place, thank you," Michael said courteously, adding resistance to Alex's offer.
"How much money do you have in your pocket for a decent meal?"
Unknown to Alex, Michael stopped in his tracks, thinking about how he saw how a homeless guy survived on the street, picking some food from a trash can. His stomach, already running on empty, churned at the thought of eating remnants of a burger tossed away in the trash along with the melted ice at the bottom of drink container.
With his arm around Michael's shoulder, Alex led the downcast teen out of the subway, filling him in on his brother Michael, wondering if this' Michael once shared the same lifestyle as his' Michael.
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2B continued...
Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection without prior written permission, by the author.