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 states 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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FoR SaLE By OwNEr 64 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Hi!"
As Alex was ready to unlock the Coffee Bean, a voice behind him rang out, commanding his attention.
When he and Michael turned to the stranger he announced himself, "I'm Darryl Weismantle. Bill Miller sent me here to cover for a `Scotty Broyles'?"
Alex was tall, but Darryl was tall-er. Not only tall, but also wider. Not wide in the obese sense but muscular-wide.
Highly visible because he wore a tank top, Michael exclaims, "Wow! Do you work out or what?"
"Like my guns?" Darryl said, flexing the bicep his gym bag wasn't clinging to.
He wasn't into the muscleman lingo, but knew enough about guns, so Michael jokes, "You're not going to shoot us are you?"
Then as Alex led them inside he rolled his eyes at Michael's stoopid joke and Darryl being gullible, the meaning of the slang word in all seriousness, Michael patronizing him. But after the lights went on and the kitchen started humming to life, Darryl had an audience, Alex, Michael, Ian and Derek all standing there watching Darryl put on a show worthy of Las Vegas status, whistling some A-1 tune from a few years ago as he juggled a frying pan before slapping it down on a burner, then stuffed his arms full of omelet materials, a cinch of a load for his hefty physique to carry.
"I think I'll grow up to be a body builder," Michael said as he, Ian, Derek and Alex stepped lively to get the Coffee Bean up to patron speed.
Derek broke off and chatted with Michael, his voice trailing off as he makes comment, "It's going to take a lot with that puny frame of yours Michael!"
As Ian took to folding napkins, Alex beside him loading up sugar bowls, he hinted, "Wade and I had a really nice time last night."
He expected the followup questions, which Alex didn't disappoint, "In what respect?"
Smiling, Ian replies, "Not in the way you're thinking, Alex. Wade's a real gentleman. Took me to dinner and sure, we went back to his place, but we never made it to the bedroom."
"Oh, so he disappointed you?"
"Not in the least. I mean I think you got the message I'm really into looking for Mr. Right-now. It's more like... like you and Kyle."
When he said it, Alex smiled, but then he instantly thought of how good he's got it and how great it was in the which he met up with Kyle and what followed. "So, is this true love?"
Ian's smile answered Alex's question.
"So when's the next `get-together'?"
"Do you think you can do without me this weekend?" He put it.
"Depends on if Derek and Phil are willing to take up the slack." Of course Alex was curious, so invaded Ian's privacy, "Got something special planned?"
"Very," Ian replies. "Wade is flying us down to Disney World. What do you think of that?"
"No frills?"
"Alex come on. Wade is `nothing' like that. In fact he's more like me."
"In what way?"
"New to coming out," then Ian looks to the ceiling for help, conjuring up, "but kisses like he's had experience for years and..."
"Maybe he has had experience?"
Ian giggles as he tells, "Yeah. He kissed some kid in his Sunday School class when he was twelve. The kid ratted on him and his mother wanted him exorcised!"
As they laughed, Alex's gayiety was cut off when Derek announces, "Your friend is back!"
Walking over near the front door, Alex looked beyond the facade of the front door, through the small window. "So?" He questions Derek? What of it? Sonnemaker is off my back... so what else is new?"
And sure enough, as Alex unlocked the door to the Coffee Bean, patrons streamed inside, Alex receiving a cool `hello' from David Sonnemaker. He received more of greeting from the other guy, a sturdy built man in say his thirties, accompanying Sonnemaker.
Then, from the foreground of the Coffee Bean crew is heard, "Shit! What a fuckin' hot muscle dude!"
He was too ticked off, Alex turning around and busting him, "Um, want to curb the language Darryl?"
Even Ian knew the line, "We run a respectable place here you know?"
Right away Darryl threw out apologies, but concluded with, "So, you know that guy?"
Walking Darryl back into the kitchen, Alex told the story of David Sonnemaker's life, complete with his new boyfriend', calling him by his nickname when at play, Master Norberto'.
"Master huh? I'd like to `master' his ass!"
It set Alex to laughing, informing the thirty-five year old substitute chef of the close relationship now surrounding the couple.
"What a shame," Darryl casts off the idea, "Would have been fun!"
Knowing this was in the vein of David Sonnemaker's realm, but not in his own, Alex sort of had an idea when it pertained to the sexual connotation, but wondered if Darryl meant something more. It would have been an education as Alex stood there and fired up questions to Darryl, but business was priority and he had to step into action.
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He knew he was a marked man, so the only thing which mattered to Joey Post's father was the idea of getting his revenge. Early morning at St. Vincent's Hospital was as bleek as the low lighting. Unlike the Coffee Bean, early morning business was limited to a few emergency room patients entering for treatment and then ferried to a room or discharged. But the rest of the hospital remained in a comatose state, hardly a person about, except for the three policemen stationed outside Asaf's room, Joey's room and that of Chris Battani.
In the hallway an early morning maintenance crew member tried getting his bucket of water off the elevator, having the wheels caught in the thin trough before stepping off. He yelled over to Officer Torres to give him a hand and it wasn't tough convincing the police officer, already known for doing good deeds without being rewarded. His reward was a pain in the balls as he was struck between the legs by the custodian's mop. With quick hands making light of the situation, it didn't take much split-second action before Officer Torres' bod turned into a punching bag. Then, with precision the bucket was rolled off the elevator, a button pushed and the `custodian' wishing the unconscious officer a nice trip to the morgue!
Two minutes earlier, Jacov had decided to take up residence in the jon, located towards the back of the room, same side of the room as the entry way. It being early morning the drapes hadn't been drawn, but the darkened room had some illumination, numbers lit up in red sequences on some of the machines used to monitor Chris' vital signs. Jacov had flushed and was washing up, drying his hands when he thought he heard something from the other side of the door. He thought maybe it was an orderly or Chris himself coming out of the deep, drug enhanced sleep. He expected to open the door to lights bright enough to replicate sunlight, but the room remained dark, which made him stand there for a moment. Having exited a bright-lighted room he needed his eyes to adjust. It's then he heard someone talking in a gruff voice, followed by a bunch of sounds, that of a human being firing away incoherent words. The first bed empty, Jacov swept the dividing curtain
away.
"What the heck is going on?" He yelled out when his vision picked up someone holding a pillow over Chris' head and pressing down with all their might.
Chris was choking when the pillow was lifted from his face. But Jacov was in trouble, the intruder going after him! Fearing for literally his life, Jacov bent down to pick up the waste basket, the only thing he perceived as a weapon in his defense. The wind was knocked out of him when a knee caught him in the abs. He fell backwards against a wall. Unrecovered from the knee punch he was an easy target for the pillow and Joey's father was no weakling at that. Trying to fight without air or energy was a useless cause and slowly Jacov found himself slipping out of consciousness.
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"I don't know why the hell they opened a second Coffee Bean when they've got one doing the business of two!" Darryl says, throwing the towel over his shoulder. Removing his tall chef's hat at eleven o'clock, he was ready to call it a day. After brushing his hand over his blond mane he wiped it on the towel.
"I hope that's not the same towel you do dishes with!" Alex made comment.
But Darryl wasn't paying attention and Alex knew it when he replied, "Yeah, okay," seemingly answering an entirely different question.
When Alex's head turned in the direction of the scenery which fed Darryl's eyes, naturally, it was focused on David Sonnemaker's table.
"Told you already Darryl," Alex assured him, "he's Sonnemaker's `keeper'."
"So you say," Darryl replied with unconvincing an attitude. Then when Norberto got out of his chair and headed in the direction of the jon, Darryl says, "Hold down the fort. I need to take a piss."
Alex figured, let the idiot go and find out for himself, since his words were totally wasted on deaf ears!
Walking slowly, Darryl purposefully waited til the jon door had closed. He smiled, knowing his prey was inside and waiting for him. Walking inside he was totatlly confident of himself.
However the muscled bear had set himself up as a decoy for much bigger game!
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"Great place you have here Chef van Oijen," Scotty greeted the blond, a guy almost his and Kyle's age.
A smile attached to the guy's face, he set the record straight, "Oh you are talking about my uncle." And then, in a very courteous manner, he introduces himself to Scotty and Kyle, "My name is Neil van Oijen and it is very good to meet you."
Of course, Scotty and Kyle were bubbling with friendly response, offering their names up in return.
Walking into the condo apartment, high in the air of the Park Avenue geography, the two were amazed by the spacious living `and' the gathering of other individuals. Like themselves, some of these were destined to be greats and lesser chefs of the restaurant world.
"Great!" Came the voice of the man entering the room. "Now we can get started."
After the introductions were made, Chef van Oijen introducing himself for the first time to Scotty and Kyle, reintroductions made to those already assembled, he led them into a study, a library of cooking and other books, a long table designed for more a corporate setting.
Kyle wondered what the story was, watching Neil respond to his uncle's ordering about, fetching whatever it is he was sent to the kitchen for. The rest sat down at the master chef's invitation. He first started out with dropping the formalities, telling the gathering of eight young men, which included Kyle and his friend. "You may refer to me as Chef Norman," then went on to inform them of their roles, their teaming up, in preparation of the dinner party he was giving.
So, the afternoon went along, Neil sitting down with the enclave of future chefs, himself adding to the menu, someone else eliminating it and adding their own suggestions, all under the guidance of Chef Norman who stood at the easel, his erase and eraseable markers being put to work. "Excellent!" he exclaimed when Scotty made suggestion, replacing the main course, a toss up from the beginning of their menu planning.
"Two points for you," Kyle whispered to Scotty, his hand over his mouth to muffle his praise to his friend.
Being his friend, Scotty whispers back, "Suggest truffles."
"Truffles?" Kyle replied. Deep down inside he didn't think Chef Norman would go for it, but trusted Scotty and blurted out, "How about truffles Chef Norman?"
The score evened up, Chef Norman throwing his accolades in Kyle's direction.
However, Chef Norman's praise came and went, whereas Neil caught Kyle's eyes a number of times, the two exchanging smiles, especially when Kyle scored `his' two points.
When they broke for lunch, again it was Neil returning to the kitchen.
"Need some help?" Kyle asks, breezing through the kitchen doorway.
"I think I can manage alone," Neil replied. But then seeing Kyle maybe taking this as a negative response he quickly said, "I don't think it would be good if my uncle saw someone else besides me waiting on his guests. It's my job to..."
"There you are," Chef Norman greeted Kyle.
Explaining they were almost ready for a toast, to the fall semester at the Intenational Cooking School, Kyle asks, "What about Neil?"
But Neil answers, "Oh, don't worry about me."
Kyle knew something fishy was going on between Neil and his uncle, but couldn't put a finger on it.
"Neil can catch up with us later, right Neil?"
"Yes sir," he slipped, then repaired his answer, "I mean... sure uncle."
Then Kyle puts the question to Chef Norman, "Are you sure Neil can handle everything?"
"He better!" He answered Kyle, then laughed it off.
But after Kyle left, under the wing of Chef Norman's arm, Neil worried a bit, hoping everything was perfect for the cooking class of 2011.
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"Hey buddy!"
True to his name all it took was one swift kick to subdue Jacov's aggressor, Swifty's foot in contact with Joey's father's region below the belt.
"Ughhhhhhhhhhh!" he cried out, dropping to the floor, cuddled up like a baby popping out of the womb, his hands holding where it hurt.
"I'll take it from here Swif," backup, Raul throwing a switch and two police officers taking control.
"Double cuff'em if you have to. I don't want this scum breaking out again," Raul put it.
By the time he finished addressing his cuffed prisoner, Swifty had run to Jacov's aid. "He's alive, but barely."
Right behind him came the medical backup. Swifty tried helping but the trained personnel excused Swifty out of their way, one cupping Jacov's hand behind the eighteen year old's head, the other helping to more him to the unoccupied bed. While a team worked on Jacov another checked out Chris.
As Raul and Swifty walked out of the room, one giving his account of his actions, Raul replying, "I always knew you had a heavy foot, Swif!"
Being they knew both boys were in the clear, Swifty asks, "Soooo, you want to know the details?"
"Details? Of what?"
Swifty nodded his head towards the nurse's station. Gazing over, Raul spotted the same nurse whom Swifty had coerced into allowing Jacov to visit with Chris.
"So," Raul `got it', "when's our little get together with Mr. Muscles?"
"I'm not so sure you will want to when you hear what Jake wants to do!"
Staring at Swifty, Raul rolls his tongue around in his mouth before asking, "Jake's a model nurse, always asking what he can do for somebody. I've heard it said he's as gentle as a lamb with patients. What could you add that would make my opinion of him any different?"
Swifty hesitated.
He looked at Swifty, then Jake Miller and returned his attention to Swifty, "C'mon," he badgered him into telling.
"Okay. Here goes, but I don't think you're gonna like it!" He then reveals, "Jake has always had this yearning to dominate a cop."
"Cop?" Raul says, first thing coming to mind he didn't fit the bill. "I'm a private investigator. Not a cop."
"To Jake it doesn't matter as long as you're a representative of the law."
A secondary thought, Raul asks, "What do you mean by `dominate'?"
"Have you forgotten about our freshman year at Harvard? The leather guy we met at the gay bar?"
Having to dig down into the recesses of his brain, Raul thought on it. Snapping his finger he replies, "Yeaaah. That `Master-guy' dressed in leather," his mind viewed as if a portrait in black. "British," divulged more info as he recalled it. "What was his name?"
"Master Jonythan ring a bell?"
"Yeah," Raul replies, his mind adrift now, a total recollection, placing him and Swifty in the gay leather bar, two eighteen year olds out on the town their first night as roommates and the adventure they had which made them miss their first day of classes on account of their one evening fling turned into a two day ordeal.
"So, you up for it?" Swifty asks.
"And what about you?"
"I think it could be fun to revive the past. It's been awhile since I've shared a man with another guy!"
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After lunch, the chefs returned to the study, taking up the same seats as before. Kyle made a nonchalant about face upon not seeing Neil return. He had seen him carrying empty dishes, then return for plates, glasses, silverware and other tableware so assumed he was in the kitchen.
"What are you doing here Kyle?" Neil asked, his hands immersed in dish water but his mind on the moment.
"I was wondering if you're returning to the meeting?"
"No offense Kyle, but if my uncle catches you here...."
But it was too late for words, Neil's Uncle Norman appearing in the doorway, again having to pull Kyle's attention away. It wasn't before Kyle caught some type of demeaning look on Chef Norman's face, derogatory to say the least. It left him curious and his curious mind wanted answers!
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Alex figured it would be a quick exchange of numbers if Darryl's `running into' Norberto in the men's jon resulted in anything. However Alex began checking the time on his watch after realizing the clock struck noontime fifteen minutes ago and the early lunch crowd started to filter in. He finished stirring somethin on the stove with a wooden spoon and approached the jon in wonder. Being the two had been in there roughly a half hour, they had to be doing more than holding hands! To be shocked was a tame explanation when Alex pushed the jon door open. "What the fuck do you two think you're doing?" His mind wandered between Norberto, standing, his long, fat cock sticking out of the flaps of his divided pants and Darryl, kneeling on the floor. "Darryl, you know you're still on the clock?" Alex looked down at the blonds hands tied behind his back with his own apron, both that and Darryl's tank top torn down the front, Darryl's rigid
pecs and ripped abs protruding.
"I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all this," Norberto stalled while he found the true words to explain why he had Darryl as his captive, his cock inches from his bound-boy's lips.
"Darryl, there's absolutely no excuse for you," Alex said as he approached Norberto. He didn't know whether Norberto was still getting his jollies from Darryl's servitude or, as he understood it, his own onery attitude towards Norberto and Norberto's response, a hand still slowly massaging his cock. Thinking the later, he went off on Norberto as if scolding him, "You get your jollies when I talk to you like this, don't you?"
Perhaps he had seen it many a time, but Norberto probably never experienced it, Alex pounching him on his cock with the wooden spoon as if exacting punishement! "Aggggghhhhh-ohhhhhhhhhh-shit! Ohhhhhhhhh," Norberto screamed out loud, grabbing his cock and bending over, almost walking in circles.
"Serves ya right!" Alex completes his sentence. "And you... you," Alex directed at Darryl, not knowing if he had the authority, "you're fired!"
Stomping his feet as he left the jon, Alex grimaced, something catching the other employees' attention. Following him into the kitchen they paraded behind one another.
"The fuckin' asshole! Can't the guy wait and do it on his own time?"
Alex didn't realize it, but Ian, Derek and Michael were having a rough time following what he said, totally oblivious to the reasons for Alex's angry outburt.
"I think that's stirred enough, Alex," Michael says, comandeering the same wooden spoon which gave Norberto misery, mixing up the pot of soup, a whirlpool forming as a result of Alex's anger.
"Hey look," a voice came from the kitchen door. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it, okay?"
Ian, Derek and Michael wondered why Darryl was standing there, his tank top torn from the crew neck to his navel, his destroyed apron in one hand.
"Look. Just get out, Darryl. I don't want to hear it?"
But Ian intervenes, "What about the cooking?"
So confident over Michael's rising performance at the Coffee Bean, Alex glances to him still stirring the pot, "Michael can cook!"
Michael claims, "I don't know anything about cooking!"
Ignoring it, Alex asks, "Oh and what happened to your `master'? He run away with his swollen dick between his legs?"
It's at this point Derek and Ian saw it time to depart before Alex had gotten `really' angry.
"Um, I don't know," Darryl replies. "C'mon give me another chance will ya?"
"I meant what I said," Alex again delivered the verdict of letting Darryl go.
"You can't. I mean if Bill finds out," Darryl talked of the head manager of both Coffee Bean I and Coffee Bean II.
"What do you mean if Bill finds out?"
"Okay the truth is," Darryl had a look of shame on his face. Dropping the apron in the garbage he proceeded to try to cover up his muscular bod with the pieces of his tank top. It resembled the top of a girl's bikini. "I wasn't sent over to `help out'. Bill sent me here because...."
"I'm waiting," Alex said, arms crossing his middle, one foot tapping out the seconds passing.
"Y'see." Then figuring his job already on the line, he spilled, "It's not the first time I've been caught in the jon with.... another guy."
"Really?" Came from Michael. "What happened?"
"Michael," Alex says straight-laced, "turn the gas off and leave us?"
He hated like hell to miss out on what could be amounting to a hot story bordering on a porn fiction novel. He didn't know what happened between the two, but when Michael was forced to deliver two orders to the kitchen he found Alex just coming out, the door almost hitting him in the face. "What happened?" he asked, but Alex walked right by him without explanation.
Borderline on being promoted from assistant manager, Alex took it upon himself to not left the other half of his anger get away with it. To him, the beating Norberto's cock took was not enough in his mind. Walking right up to the table Norberto and David Sonnemaker sat at, Alex stole the fork of pastry right out of Norberto's hand. Then as gently as possible, considering the mood Alex was in, he demands, "Your bill has been taken care of," on the house, "if you would please leave?"
Norberto sat there for a moment, complete silence come over him as he stare at Alex, seeing he meant business. "If that's the way you want it," Norberto replied, along with getting up, taking his jacket from the back of the chair. "David," he said in a commanding tone, "Let's go."
Alex wondered why David Sonnemaker had a smile on his lips, but wasn't kept in suspense long when David says, "I should be thanking you Alex."
"Thanking me? For what?"
"I'm sure Norberto is going to be wanting to take his anger out on something.... or somebody?"
With a look of disgust on his face Alex mumbled the words to himself, "What a sick pup!"
"Should I call the ASPCA?" Michael asks.
"The ASPC-what?"
"Just kidding," Michael said. "While you were busy Kyle called. He wants you to call him back."
"Oh. Okay. Thanks Michael."
"Anytime Alex."
He watched as Michael scurried away. It's what took Alex from here' to there', from being in a bad mood to an elated feeling because that's the effect Michael had on him. He hadn't realized it before but Michael was a real joy to have around. Before he awoke from his reverie, Alex was thinking of what Michael would have done if he hadn't covered up his bod this morning. Suddenly he was jolted loose from, a big `BOOOOOOOOOM' coming from the kitchen. Not only was he rocked off his foundation, but he heard falling dishes, Derek going down too while carrying a tray load of place settings. "What tha?" In the immediate area, Alex asks, "You alright Derek?"
"Fine," Derek replied, scraping food scraps off of him, dabbing at a stream of coffee down the front of his white shirt.
But then thing didn't look so rosy, smoke coming out from the kitchen door.
"Where's Michael?" Was Alex's primary concern, his second in regards to Ian and Darryl.
"I saw Ian heading towards the jon, I think," Derek said.
The few patrons escaped through both exits, the back alley and the front door. Derek made a dash for the jon. Meantime, Alex went for the kitchen. When he opened the door his heart leapt up into his throat. "Michael?" he questioned his whereabouts, seeing flames engulfing the place, a thick cloud of smoke billowing out into his face and to the ceiling. He dropped to the floor and from the bottom half of the door called out Michael's name as well as Darryl's. Five or six feet into the kitchen he could see space, but beyond that it looked like the insides of a barbecue grill. He panicked and began frantically calling out for Michael and Darryl. He tried to brave the flames but it was too intensely hot.
"Alex, we've gotta go!"
"Not without Michael!"
Ian and Derek had to physically manhandle Alex, dragging him out the front door of the Coffee Bean. Medics already on the scene, tried to help calm Alex, who was almost in tears, still with allegiance, of telling them he had to save Michael.
"There's nothing you can do Alex," Ian tried comforting him.
Realizing Ian was so right, Alex felt frustration and helplessness. Five minutes ago he was savoring memories of Michael and now... it dawned on him, "Michael... is he.... gone?"
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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.
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The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....