This is a new series from me. I have another on-going series coming to a rapid conclusion soon, i.e. Heartache, in the High School Section.
Disclaimer:
This story is fiction and is by no means depictive of the life of any person, place or thing. It contains no penetrative sexual acts between males YET and should only be read if it is legal to do so in your area. Read at your own risk. All names are made up and any similarities are just dumb luck. Copyright remains the property of this mysterious person who calls himself Fjord.
Living In a Box Chapter 01 - When Two Worlds Collide By Fjord
It was early morning and James Masterson was sitting on the park bench alone. He had just finished his job and the money he received was in his jeans front right side pocket, all crumpled and dirty. James looked like an ordinary homeless boy but as always looks were deceiving. He was semi-homeless and he wasn't ordinary. His street friends called him Jimmy. They didn't know his real name because he never told them. He was about 5' 10" in height and had a nice slim body. His shoulder length hair was dark brown. The hair that fell over his face mostly hid his beautiful brown eyes. Behind his back, his friends called him the lost prince. This was because he had a presence about him that somehow radiates elegance and culture. But it was mostly because they wanted to get in his pants and he wouldn't let them. Well, a few did get that privilege and they were never the same after that. Somehow, those that he touched changed into either better or worse characters.
Anyway, as James sat quietly, his eyes peered through his bangs and spotted a body lying on the ground. No, not the body of the snoring old drunk on the left side of his vision, but the curled up body of a teenage boy lying next to a toppled garbage can, directly in front of him. He got up and turned right to walk away, as he knew he should, but then after a few steps he turned his head and looked back at the body. For a second he hesitated but James finally went against his street instincts to walk away and slowly approached the curled up body.
James prodded the back of the body with his right foot and got no response. He knelt on one knee and turned the body to look at the face. James gasped. The boy's face looked really bad. The face was dirty and dried blood was smeared all over his face and chest. The boy was hugging himself with his knees drawn up to his body. James placed his index finger under the boy's nostrils and felt relief when he felt warm air blowing out. The boy was alive.
"Wake up." James said as he shook the boy's shoulder. He did this again for a few times until the boy's swollen eyelids cracked open. A pair of bright blue eyes peeked through and the eyelids closed again.
"Come on, wake up dammit!" James said, losing his patience already. "I haven't got all day." The eyelids opened again and this time terror shone from the pair of striking blue eyes behind them. A whimper escaped from the boy's bloody and cracked lips.
"D..don't hurt me, p..please. I..I'll do a..anything you w..want," the terrified boy stammered as he looked up at James. 'What if what I wanted him to do was going to hurt him', James thought. Be careful of what you ask for, James said to the boy in his mind. The boy was in terrible shape and that was an understatement.
"Get up." James ordered quietly. The boy slowly got up, still hugging his body and shivering. He was about three inches shorter than James. Dried blood was smeared all over his spiky blond hair too. He looked at James like an animal trapped.
James stared at the boy for a second and then turned right and started walking. The boy stood there and then slowly limped to follow James. He didn't know why he followed James but he knew that it was what he was supposed to do. After a while he stopped at the nearest bench and sat heavily on it.
"Please stop." the boy said wearily to James. James stopped and turned to look at him. He stood there for a while and waited for the boy to catch his breath. When it became obvious the boy was not going to get up anytime soon, James went and sat next to him on the bench.
"Look, whoever you are, if you want my help we need to make a move soon. Its still early and the bad guys are still in la-la land. If they see you like this, you'll be dead meat, understand?" James said to the boy.
"Xavier. My name's Xavier," the boy replied softly. "Where are we going?"
"My place. I also don't want anyone to follow us. It's my secret home." James replied. "Let's go before I change my mind." James got up and held out his right hand to help the boy get up. The boy, Xavier, took his hand and slowly got up. James found out that the boy's hand was soft and smooth and, against his will, liked the contact. As he got up, the boy held James shoulder with his left hand for support. James instinctively wrapped his right arm around his waist. Together, they slowly made their way towards an old apartment building at the other side of the park. They didn't enter from the front. They went to the back of the building to a small iron door that was padlocked. He let go of the boy and proceeded to unlock the door with a key from inside his left shoe. He tried to open the door with as little noise as possible but the steel door still clanged loudly when he opened it. A drunken voice from the room upstairs swore some foul language about keeping the noise down.
"Get in," James said to the boy. After they got in, James locked the door from the inside with the same padlock. James opened the door on the left side of the dark corridor and ushered the boy into the room. He flicked on the light switch and a bright fluorescent light illuminated the surprisingly large yet sparsely furnished room. On the wall on his right, a small frosted window let in the early morning sunlight. Below the window was a kitchenette with hot plates. Next to it was a small fridge with a wall-mounted cabinet above it. In front of the kitchenette was a small round table with two round chairs tucked neatly underneath it. On the far right corner of the room was a frosted glass walled shower cubicle. Next to it on the right was a small porcelain sink with a mirror cabinet mounted on the wall above it. In the center of the room was an unmade double bed. It wasn't untidy. It just looked slept in. The head of the bed was against the wall on the left. On the wall alongside the door entrance was a 3-seater sofa with small bookshelf placed next to it.
"Nice place."
"It's home. Anyways, take your clothes off and get a shower first. I need to look at your injuries after that." The boy took off his clothes slowly and from the expression on his face, the exercise was rather painful. He stripped down to his briefs and then looked at James. James was staring at him all this while. "Em... you got a towel I can borrow?" He said to James.
James went to the dresser that stood at the wall opposite the door entrance, opened the second drawer from top and took out a thick yellow towel and handed it to the boy. He went in the shower cubicle and closed the sliding door. The blurry shape of the towel could be seen as he placed it on the horizontal towel bar. The sound of falling water soon followed.
James shook his head as he kept watching the moving figure inside his shower. He felt amazed at how easily he trusted the boy. But when he looked at the dirty and bloody pile of clothes, he understood why. It was the uniform of a private school at the other side of the city, where rich people send their spoiled brats for high-class education in preparation for their high-class society. It was St. Thomas or St. John or whatever. He recognized the emblem. They were all the same old-fashioned schools with old-fashioned values and probably with even more old-fashioned teachers. The kid was a rich brat obviously but why he was at an area renowned for street muggings, killings, rapes and prostitution begged for an explanation. James knew most of the gangs around the area and he wondered which one beat up the boy. James bent down to pick up the clothes, rummaged through the pockets, removed some stuff and placed the clothes inside the laundry basket next to the shower cubicle. He went to the dresser again and took out fresh underwear, a cut-off jeans and a black Metallica T-shirt and placed them neatly on the double bed. His clothes should fit the boy. They were about the same size with James only a little taller than the boy. He sat on the sofa looking at the stuff he took out from the boy's clothes and waited for the boy to finish. Finally, he closed his eyes and just zoned out.
When he opened his eyes, the boy was out of the shower wearing just the towel around his waist, sitting on the bed. He was looking at James. His short hair was messy but nice.
"Thanks, man. You saved my life I guess." The boy said suddenly. James ignored him and went to get the first aid kit under the bed near where the boy was sitting. James smelled his shower gel on the boy. His heartbeat increased.
Placing the kit next to the boy, he looked at the boy and started to inspect the wounds and bruises. The cut on his head wasn't deep and the bleeding had stopped. After the blood and dirt was gone, the boy didn't look too bad. The swollen eyes were probably due to crying. Otherwise, he looked... beautiful. James couldn't breathe as he realized that he had fallen in lust with the boy. He wanted to grab the boy and kiss him and just suck his tongue and give pleasure to the boy.
"Are you okay?" The boy's voice startled James out of his daydreaming. James nodded, opened the kit and started to administer first aid. At least he could touch the boy for a while.
"You don't speak much do you?" The boy said to him after he finished applying some salve on the head wound.
"No."
"I told you my name, what's yours?"
James kept quiet as he slid the kit under the bed again. He was kneeling next to the boy when he looked up and said, "James. My name is James."
The boy giggled hysterically and James was dumbfounded. What was wrong with the name James?
"What's so funny?"
"You." The boy replied and started to giggle madly again. James was curious and elated at the same time as he witnessed the boy actually being happy at his expense. He waited until the boy could breathe normally again. The boy then looked at him and smiled, taking James breath away, again.
"You sounded so funny when you said 'James. My name is James.' It's like Pierce Brosnan saying, 'My name is Bond. James Bond.' Hehehe." The boy said and started in another giggling fit. All James was thinking was how beautiful the boy was. How innocent. How pure. And finally, how James totally needed to send the boy back to his rich family before the cops tracked him down to his secret den.
"Get dressed. The clothes on the bed are for you and don't worry they're all clean." James said. "I'm gonna take a shower. If you're hungry there's some cereal in the upper cabinet and milk in the fridge. The bowl and spoon are in the kitchenette drawers."
James took off his shirt and jeans and briefs and went into the shower. He concentrated on cleaning up his body. He finished showering and stepped out of the shower cubicle. The boy who was already dressed stood looking at him with his eyes wide open. A bowl of cereal was in his right hand an a spoon full of cereal was in his left hand.
"What now?" James asked exasperatedly.
"James, you're like naked..." The boy pointed out with the cereal filled spoon.
James fought the instinct to cover his dick and nonchalantly made wet foot tracks towards the dresser and took out another yellow towel. With his back to the boy, James dried himself. He felt a hole being drilled on each of his butt cheeks.
"Stop looking at my butt." James said to the dresser and got a gasp from the boy behind him.
"I wasn't looking at your butt." The boy said nervously. James turned his head and glanced at the boy behind him and rolled his eyes.
"Honest, I wasn't." The boy was desperate. "I'm not gay."
"Relax. I don't care. How do you want me to call you? Xavier is too weird."
"Call me Savio. It's easier." He replied and James totally agreed.
James put on an Adidas T-shirt and cargo pants. He went to the mirror cabinet and brushed his wet hair back. His eyes were visible now and they were hypnotically beautiful. Thick eyelashes rimmed his big, beautiful brown eyes. As James turned to the boy, he heard a gasp.
"Are you asthmatic or something, Savio?" James looked at the boy. The boy just stared at him.
"Your eyes..."
"Yeah... What about my eyes?"
"They're be... brown."
"Thanks, Savio. You finally solved the mystery about my eye color." James said playfully. He was used to the effect his unusual eyes had on people. In fact, only a few people had seen his eyes up close. Savio had just been added to the short list. "Now, tell me where you live and I'll send you there. They're probably looking for you high and low. The cops would be all over the park soon."
"I live in No. 2, Remington Street. I know how to get there from here." Savio said defiantly.
"Okay. Now tell me, what happened?"
"I ran away from home."
"Not a good answer. Too predictable. Try again."
"I was attacked by a vampire last night."
"Funny but I am the only vampire around here and I didn't remember attacking anyone."
"Alright. I lost my way and was mugged."
"Very warm."
"If you knew already, why do I have to tell you?"
"I just need a verbal confirmation from you."
"Okay. I was supposed to meet somebody at the park after school. I was sitting at one of the bench when somebody jumped me. The next thing I know, you were kicking me."
"Very good. But you left out the fact that that somebody was a good looking blond haired boy named Adam who wanted to suck your dick for like 50 dollars."
"How did you know that?" Savio was looking at James with his mouth wide agape. "Shit, you looked at the print out. Where is it? Give it back." He almost shouted. Tears were brimming in his eyes, waiting to roll down his smooth cheeks.
James handed him the crumpled piece of paper printed in color. Savio snatched it away and tore it to pieces. His face was a study of concentrated hate.
"I hate him. He tricked me. I was supposed to meet him here but he didn't come." The tears were on free flow.
James took him by the shoulders and sat him down on the couch. He felt sorry for the boy. Another Net scam. Lucky for the boy that he wasn't raped or worse, killed. It was even more a miracle since the boy was pretty good looking. Some guys in the neighborhood would spring a hardon from like 100 yards away if they spotted him. God was looking after this kid.
The boy sobbed against his shoulders until James' Adidas shirt was wet with tears. Finally, Savio finished crying and James found a sleeping boy on his shoulders. He carried the boy in his arms and put him in bed. He felt like kissing the boy's forehead but stopped himself. It was not wise to have any emotional connection with the boy, he told himself. However, deep in his heart, James knew it was already too late. The boy, Savio, had James at his mercy. James had fallen in love.
To be continued...
A new story. Hope you like it. Otherwise I'll just stop here. Tell me what you think.
You can email me at fyiord@yahoo.com anytime.