If you don't like the gay scene, you shouldn't go any further. If you're under 18, sorry, but you need to leave. This isn't for your. Anyone else, enjoy!
You get what you need: A story by Brady York, a.k.a. YORKTOWN!
Surprising no one, Denver's latest storm front started out as a sunny day and rapidly degenerated into a massive squall. By two in the afternoon the sky had gone completely dark, and heavy snow was blowing from the north. By six, there was a foot of the vile white stuff on the streets and traffic was grinding to a halt.
Lonny Ricks looked out the window of his father's deli and shook his head. It was Christmas Eve, and it looked like Santa would have all the snow he needed. Lonny leaned his tall muscular frame against the wall near the door and shook his head, not looking forward to trying to get home.
He ran his hand down the length of his blond ponytail and looked back towards the counter, his gray eyes watching as his employee, Greg Pullman, finished cleaning the prep counter. Greg was sixteen, making him the youngest employee in the store and on the crew. He wore his dark haircut short and combed forward, and wore baggy jeans and a t-shirt with a Chinese dragon on it.
Lonny walked back to the small office after locking the front door and finished his paperwork. His new laptop, received a few weeks ago on his 22nd birthday from his dad, stood open on the desk. On the screen was the financial program that Lonny had created for the store, tracking deposits, costs, sales, etc. The program had simplified the bookwork for the store, and earned Lonny a promotion to Assistant Manager. During the day he went to school and his dad ran the store. He ran the nights and weekends. Their one shift manager, Treesa, covered their days off.
"Lon, the kitchen's done." Greg called and turned out the lights in the front of the store. "Can I get a ride?" Greg lived in the same apartment complex as Lonny a few blocks away.
"Yeah. Get the trash ready to go out. I'm just locking the safe." Lonny put the cash till in the safe with the deposit and closed the door, spinning the dial. He got up and closed the door to the office and turned out the light. It was just after 8 pm, and his family would be doing the usual Christmas Eve thing in about an hour.
He walked to the back door and pulled on his coat, glancing over to where Greg had the rest of the bags. "Ready?" He asked, watching Greg do up his coat. Greg nodded, and Lonny opened the back door. The wind immediately whipped into the store, swirling snow around them.
Greg braced himself and hurried out into the weather, heading for the dumpster. Lonny set the alarm and followed, slamming the door shut. He squinted his eyes against the wind and swung the bags into the dumpster. Greg watched and turned to get in Lonny's Jeep Wrangler.
Lonny looked down to shield his face and tripped, sprawling in the deep snow near the back of the Jeep. "Damn it." He grumbled and looked back to see what he'd fallen over. It took a second for him to realize what he was looking at, and then disbelief washed over him.
A human form lay in the snow beside the dumpster, its leg sticking out. All he could see clearly was the leg below the knee and the foot, both of which were bare. "Greg, c'mere!" He shouted over the wind. He stood up and moved towards the form slowly, glancing around to see if anyone was in the alley. Denver wasn't horribly dangerous, but murders were known to happen.
"C'mon, Lon, it's fucking freezing!" Greg trudged around the truck and stopped dead, seeing Lonny crouched over what looked like a body. "Oh, shit."
Lonny knelt down and carefully brushed the snow away. The form was curled into a fetal position, and shocking him, was naked. There were bruises visible on the chilled blue skin, and when Lonny gently lifted one of its arms, the body rolled back, revealing a young man's face and long unkempt brown hair. The boy groaned softly, barely audible in the wind.
"He's alive!" Lonny shouted to Greg over the wind. "Get my cell phone out of the Jeep and call 911!" He pulled off his coat and lifted the thin boy up to wrap it around him. "Start it up and turn the heat on!" Greg nodded and disappeared around the side of the truck.
"Hey, can you hear me?" Lonny said to the boy, patting his cheek. "Come on, man, gimme a sign." The kid fluttered his eyes and moaned, and Lonny pulled the coat tighter around him. "Hang in there, buddy. We're getting help."
The Jeep shuddered and evened out, and Greg trotted back holding the cell phone to his ear. "Everything's busy. The radio said there's a massive accident on the freeway." He turned off the phone in disgust. "Maybe when can take him to the hospital."
Lonny shivered in the wind and shook his head. "We're going to have a hard enough time getting to the apartments." He thought for a minute and looked down at the kid wrapped in his coat. "Fuck. Help me get him in the Jeep."
"What're you going to do?" Greg stepped over to them and squatted down.
"I guess take him home until the storm clears." Lonnie slid his arms under the boy and lifted him. He hardly weighed anything. "Open the back up." He stood up, nearly slipping in the snow, and went towards the truck.
"Are you crazy? You don't know anything about him." Greg jumped ahead and pulled open the back door. "What if he's like a drug addict or something?"
"Well I'm not going to leave him back here to die, dumb ass." He gently put the kid on the floor behind the back seat. "That'd be cool for Christmas, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah, but why can't the cops handle this?" Greg watched Lonny arrange the kid and close the door. "I mean, Jesus, Lon. This is weird."
"As soon as the storm's over I'll call the cops. Now, relax, okay? Maybe we can get Gina to come to my place and look at him." Gina Fernis was a Physician's Assistant that lived one floor below Lonny.
They got in the Jeep, and Lonny put it in four-wheel drive. Even so, the roads were nearly impossible to navigate. The one saving grace was that there were almost no vehicles out. Lonny was still freezing, his shirt soaked, and he cranked the heat up as high as it would go.
"Look." Greg pointed down a side street where several sets of police lights could be seen flashing. "Damn, there's three cars involved in that one." They could see another accident not to far away.
"I should've closed early." Lonny muttered. The Jeep slid sideways slightly, and he jumped and corrected for it. "I hate snow."
Greg laughed humorlessly. "You live in the wrong city, Lon."
"No shit."
They made it to the apartment complex, and Lonny leaned his forehead on the wheel and shut down the engine. "That sucked." He mumbled. He looked over at Greg and sighed. "Go get Gina. I'll take the kid up to my place. Tell her it's urgent."
"Got it." Greg scrambled out into the storm and disappeared.
Lonny got out and locked the doors and hurried to the back of the Jeep. The wind whistled past him, and he yanked the door open. "Okay, buddy. Not far now." He lifted the kid up into a fireman's carry and slammed the door.
The snow was almost knee deep as he carefully made his way towards the front doors and the elevators.
Getting his door unlocked was a little tricky, and as light as the boy was, he was getting heavy. Finally, he got the door open, and he tripped over the coffee table, nearly pitching the kid onto the couch. He swore and rubbed his shin when he had the boy lying down. He closed the door and left it unlocked for Greg and Gina.
The boy moaned again, and Lonny ran down the short hall into the bedroom and yanked the comforter off the bed, pulling it back into the living room behind him. In a couple of minutes, he had the kid wrapped in it and hung up his coat. There was a knock at the door, and Greg let himself in followed by a woman in her thirties with auburn hair.
"Are you adopting strays now, Lonny?" Gina smiled as she walked in and closed the door. "Want to tell me what's going on?"
"This kid was in the snow behind the store. He looks like he got the shit beat out of him." Lonny stood up and moved out of her war. "We called 911, but we couldn't get through."
Gina moved to sit on the edge of the coffee table and opened her emergency bag. "I'll bet the storm has them jumping." She pulled out a stethoscope and hung it around her neck and picked up the boy's wrist to take his pulse.
"What's his name?"
"He didn't have any ID." Greg said, sitting in the chair at the end of the couch. "We couldn't even find his clothes."
She raised her eyebrows and glanced up at Lonny. He shrugged, and she lifted the comforter away from the kid's chest, revealing several small bruises. "Oh my lord. Look at that."
"See why I couldn't leave him there?" Lonny asked, moving to get a better look. "Maybe we can find his things tomorrow."
"You two turn away for a minute." She pulled out a thermometer and checked to make sure they had done as she asked before lifting the comforter the rest of the way off. The boy moved and groaned as she inserted it, and she had to restrain him gently while it took his internal temperature. It was low, 96 degrees, and she inhaled deeply and let it out as she covered him back up.
"Lon," she said, using an alcohol swap to clean the thermometer, "his temp is way low. We need to get it back up. Can we put him in your tub and run some warm water?"
"Sure." Lonny jumped up and ran down the hall.
"Greg, give me a hand, will you?" She stood up and removed the comforter again, revealing the kid's bruised body. Greg hesitated, looking from the boy to her. "He won't bite, okay?" She smiled and patted his shoulder. "I can't lift him."
Greg sighed and nodded, pulling off his coat. With her help, he lifted the kid and headed down the hall. In the bathroom, the three of them lowered the kid into the water. "You two take five. I'll stay her with him. You might try the police again."
Lonny nodded and pushed Greg out into the hall. "You still have my cell phone?" Greg nodded. "Try the regular number. 911's probably still tied up."
"I've seen that kid before, Lonny. I think he's a street rat." Greg sat down in the chair and pulled the phone out of his coat.
"He's homeless?"
"I think so. I don't know any details, I've just seen him like sitting behind the buildings be the store." Greg dialed the phone and held it up to his ear, then turned it off. "It's busy."
Lonny nodded and pulled his soaked shirt off. "Keep trying. I'm going to get a dry shirt." He went into his room and found one, then stopped by the bathroom. "Is it helping?" He asked Gina, leaning in through the door.
"Some." Gina finished taking the boy's pulse and put his arm across his chest. "I can't find any broken bones, and I don't see any signs of bleeding." She wiped her hands on her pants. "He got whacked a good one on the head, though."
"So now what do I do?"
She threw her hands up. "I have no idea, Lon. He won't die on you, but I doubt we could get an ambulance right now."
He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. It was occurring to him that he hadn't thought this out very well. "I'm supposed to go home tonight for Christmas. Mom and dad are going to kill me."
"I doubt it with the snow." She smiled up at him. "I'm sure they'd prefer you wait it out and then drive."
"Yeah. I guess we can call in the morning."
"For what it's worth, you've done a good thing." She put her hand on his arm. "A little longer in the water, and we can put him back on the couch. I'll help you get settled, then I'll check back first thing in the morning."
She reached for a towel hanging on the wall. "One thing, Lonny. He might've taken drugs or something. You definitely want to keep an eye on him."
"Great." Lonny's mind drifted off towards the mind image of his parents and older sister eating Christmas Eve snacks and waiting for him. In his mind, his mother looked out through the curtains, worried about him in the snow, and chewed her knuckle. He stifled a groan and lifted the kid to his feet so Gina could dry him off.
After several minutes they got him back on the couch and wrapped in the comforter. Greg excused himself and left, wishing them happy holidays and glancing at the boy on the couch. Lonny closed the door and leaned against it, rubbing his eyes.
"Tired?" Gina asked. He nodded and sank into the chair at the end of the couch. "Maybe we should try the police again. This is an awful lot for someone to take on, even just for the night."
"No, it's fine. Right now he needs somebody. Maybe next time it'd be me, you know?" Lonny leaned back and tugged his ponytail up so it wasn't being pulled. "I just hope I didn't rescue a psychopath that murdered his family and ran through the streets naked screaming satanic slogans."
Gina laughed and stood up. "You've got a decent heart, Lonny. I don't care what the other tenants say." She packed her bag up and took her coat off the end of the couch. "If he starts having trouble, or if he whacks out or something, call me." She patted his leg affectionately.
"Thanks." He stood up to let her out. "Merry Christmas, Gina." He waved and closed the door. The sudden silence was overwhelming. He moved quietly into his room to call his parents. He hated like hell to disappoint them, but boy or no boy, the roads were horrible. He promised to get there as soon as the snow broke and hung up.
Lonny stepped over to the bedroom window and pulled the curtain back. The snow blew by in waves and stuck to the small ledge at the bottom of the panes. He sighed heavily and shivered. He went to the dresser and pulled out some sweats and a t-shirt, and on second thought pulled out another of each in case the kid woke up. He changed and went out into the living room and sat down in the chair.
Beyond a doubt, this was the strangest Christmas he could remember. He gazed at the boy's face and let his mind wander, examining each feature at length while his thoughts tumbled over each other. The boy's cheekbones were high and defined, and his skin was smooth and unblemished. His hair, nearly as long as Lonny's own, was down to the center of his back in length, and although Lonny hadn't noticed it earlier, there was a tattoo of a sort of nuclear hazard symbol on the kid's right shoulder.
He turned on the stereo and listened to the easy listening station his parent's liked, closing his eyes as Perry Como sang Sleigh Ride. His mind circled back through the years of Christmas mornings, each of them a defined memory of its own. His sister, Veronica, always seemed to get the neatest stuff since she was two years older. Thinking of her made him suddenly feel very lonely. They had always been close, and liked to stay up late on Christmas Eve and laugh.
It was Ronnie that he had turned to with his questions and torment when he'd started dating. His fear of disappointing his parents had been so great when he figured out that he didn't much like girls that he'd almost become suicidal. He had forced himself to have sex one night with a girl named Heather Mason, who'd been his 'girlfriend' for six months. He'd hated it, and had barricaded himself in his room for two days fighting tears after having the break-up fight of the century.
When Ronnie had barged past him at his door and demanded to know what was wrong, he, the family jock, bearer of the family namesake and lineage, had burst into tears in her arms and sobbed, spilling his guts.
"Dumb ass," She'd said, stroking his hair, which had already gotten quite long, "There's someone out there for everybody, and for you it just wasn't Heather, okay?"
"But I didn't even like touching her, Ronnie, and she's gorgeous." He snuffled and put his head in her lap. "It was worse than kissing an old lady."
Ronnie sighed and leaned back on her hands on the bed. "I hate to point out the obvious, Lil' Bro, but maybe your gay."
"No fucking way!" He'd snarled, sitting up. "That's sick!"
"I wasn't trying to insult you." She held up her hands. "You're the only one that knows for sure, and to me it doesn't matter. But it does hurt me to see you fall to pieces like this, Lonny. You're the tough macho type, remember?"
After a moment he looked down at the floor in defeat and nodded. "I'm sorry. Really. Thanks for letting me purge, you know?"
She smiled and stood up and kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight, Lil' Bro.
I hope you figure things out."
That had been over four years ago, and Lonny had forced himself into rigid celibacy, not daring to upset his dad. He frequently got emails from Veronica, now in school in California, and always she asked if he'd met someone. Her messages always offered support, and always they caused his chest to constrict, fearing what his mind already knew but buried.
Lonny looked over at the sleeping form on the couch and rubbed the bridge of his nose. To himself, he finally began to admit to himself that he rescued the boy because he was beautiful, and because he couldn't let something that perfect die. Lonny had loved fantasy novels, and the boy on the couch looked like what most authors described as an elf. Tall and thin, wispy, and not the short little Santa things people usually thought of. The callous area of his mind snorted, asking the rest of his mind if he would've rescued someone that looked like shit.
The lights flickered, bringing him out of his reverie, and Lonny instinctively looked up at the ceiling, even though the lamp on the end table was the only one on. There was another flicker, and the world pitched into darkness. He could hear the fan in the furnace wind down in the sudden silence.
"Son of a bitch. I can't win." He grumbled, standing up and carefully moving to the entertainment center for the large candles his mother had given him and some matches. He took the two big candles and put one on the little kitchen table and lit it, then put the other on the table next to the lamp. His boom box had a rechargeable battery, and he turned the radio back on to the news station. The power was out in Aurora, Cherry Hills, parts of Commerce City, and north Denver. So much for Christmas Eve. He listened to the reports of various accidents and built a fire in the fireplace. With the heat out, his top floor apartment would get cold quick.
There was a moan from the couch, and Lonny moved over and knelt down. In the low candlelight, the kid's eyes fluttered, and Lonny smiled showing his perfect teeth. "Can you hear me?" He put his hand on the boy's arm. "Are you awake?"
The boy jumped and thrashed, his large brown eyes wide with terror. He shouted and tried to move away, clearly disoriented. His eyes searched Lonny's face and the surrounding room, and his heart pounded in his chest. "Where am I?" He wailed.
"Hey, settle down!" Lonny insisted gently. "You're in my apartment. I found you behind my store on Alameda. You're safe."
"Store?" The boy asked, looking at Lonny and down at the comforter. "Where?"
"Behind Jerry's Deli. You looked like you got jumped or beat up or something." Lonny eased the kid back down on the pillows. "You need to rest, man. You're in kinda rough shape. What's your name?"
The boy met Lonny's eyes and furrowed his brows together. "Name?"
"Yeah, what's your name? We need to get a hold of your parents and tell them you're okay."
The kid looked at his hands and back at Lonny. His face dissolved into fear. "I don't know. He whispered.
"You don't remember your name?" Lonny asked, shocked. "Do you remember being in the alley behind my shop?" The kid shook his head and tears welled up in his eyes. "What do you remember? Anything?"
"Cold." The boy said. He shivered and pulled the blankets up around his shoulders.
"Yeah, I'll bet." Lonny rocked back on his heels. "Look under the blanket, bud. That's what you had on when I found you." The boy looked and his eyes widened. "Yeah, I was surprised, too." Lonny ran his hands over his scalp and sighed. "Look, the power's out. It's going to get cold in here before long. Would you like to borrow some of my clothes and get warm?" Slowly the boy nodded, searching Lonny's eyes. Lonny picked up the sweats and t-shirt and laid them on the couch. "You're kinda skinnier than me, but these'll fit you. Want me to leave the room, or do you need some help?"
"Help." The boy said almost silently. Lonny nodded and patted the boy's arm. He stood up and reached over to gently slide the kid into a sitting position, careful of the bruises he knew were there. "Ouch!" The kid hissed, cradling his ribs.
"I think it would be easier if I did most of the work, okay? Just pretend I'm a doctor or something. Nothing to be embarrassed about." That brought a slight smile to the other's face and Lonny chuckled. "Yeah, I know." He opened the comforter just enough to expose the boy's arms and torso and carefully slid the shirt over his head and arms. Twice the kid gritted his teeth, but was otherwise fine.
"Okay, here's the deal. You don't have any equipment I don't, so neither of us should be embarrassed, right?" The kid nodded, still smiling shyly, and Lonny scooped under his arms and lifted him up. The kid's face went red, but he stood absolutely still as Lonny took away the blanket and helped him get his feet through the sweat pants. He slid them up, trying to ignore what was at eye level while he was on his knees and tied the waist string.
Finally he stood up and put his hands on his hips with a grin. "Good. You're looking better already. Want something to eat?" The boy's eyes lit up, and Lonny put his arm around the kid's shoulder and led him into the kitchen. "No microwave because of the power, but I have a gas stove. We can do soup and sandwiches, okay?"
The boy nodded and smiled again, leaning against Lonny. Lonny opened a cupboard and pulled out chicken noodle soup and crackers, handing them to the kid, and reached into another for a saucepan. He found the can opener and handed it over as well. "Can you get that?"
The boy worked the can opener's jaws and fumbled the can for a moment. Lonny took it and put it on the counter top, started it, and let the kid try again. This time he got the hang of it quickly and got the can open. In the mean time, Lonny got cheese and bread out of the fridge and a skillet.
They grilled cheese sandwiches and ate the soup, the kid slowly but determinedly emptying his bowl. The sandwiches Lonny had cut into quarters, and the kid ate half of his sandwich. "Good." He said quietly, meeting Lonny's eyes.
"You're welcome, buddy." He stood up to clear the dishes, and the kid immediately jumped up to help. "Any luck remembering your name, man?" He asked, showing the other where to put the bowls in the dishwasher.
"No." The dejection was evident in the boy's voice, and Lonny straighten up and looked at him.
"Hey, don't worry. It'll come back. You got whacked bad." He put his arm around the kid's shoulder again. "You're gonna be okay, I promise." The boy wrapped his arms around Lonny's chest and buried his head in his chest. All Lonny could do was stand there and hold him.
Finally, he was released to finish cleaning up, but the kid wouldn't leave his side. They sat together on the couch and listened to Christmas music. Several songs went by, and Lonny sang some of them, badly he thought, but the boy smiled and seemed to enjoy it. Then Johnny Mathis' The Christmas Song came on, and the kid sat up and pointed at the radio.
"Jack Frost!" He insisted happily, and Lonny laughed.
"Yeah, Jack Frost nipping on your nose. Good." He turned to face the other and folded his feet under himself. "If anyone's Jack Frost, you are."
He smiled and hooked his thumb towards the window. "Nobody else would take a nap in that." The boy chuckled quietly and nodded. "Can I call you Jack until you remember your name?" The boy nodded, and Lonny sighed. "God, finally we have a name." He mumbled to himself.
Jack yawned hugely, and Lonny pulled the comforter up off the floor and draped it over Jack's shoulders. "It's well past my bed time, buddy. You need rest, too." Jack smiled sleepily and leaned over onto the pillows. Lonny patted his leg and stood up. "My room is right down that hall. If you need anything, come find me." The kid looked nervously at the dark hallway and nodded.
A few minutes later, stripped to his boxer briefs, Lonny stretched out in his extremely cold but comfortable bed. There was another thick quilt in the closet, and he put that on the bed to replace the comforter the kid had.
This had to be the longest night in recorded history, especially for Christmas Eve. Correction, he thought, glancing at the clock. It was well into Christmas Day now. He yawned and looked up at the window, watching the snow stream by.
He sensed more than heard something at the door, and he looked over his shoulder. The room was actually sort of light from the reflected snow, and he could see Jack standing in the door, wrapped in the comforter and hugging him self, looking terrified. Lonny sat up in the bed and smiled. "Lonely?"
"Yes." Jack whispered, looking like he wanted to turn and flee.
Lonny shook his head, silently commenting to himself on his own intelligence, and lifted the blankets up. The kid sprinted to the bed and dove onto it, moving up against Lonny's side, shivering hard. Lonny pulled the comforter onto the bed and the covers tight around them and carefully turned Jack towards the window and slid up tight behind him, wrapping him in his arms. It was the most natural thing in the world to do, and Lonny didn't even think about it as he did it. They watched the storm together for several minutes, and fell hard asleep that way.
Lonny woke to the light from the window and groaned. He blinked at the brightness and saw snowflakes still falling and pulled the blankets up over his head. Something wasn't quite right, and it took a few seconds for him to realize that Jack was in bed with him, and had grafted himself to Lonny's chest during the night.
Lonny opened his eyes and smiled, enjoying the feel of someone's arms around his body. Jack snored softly, his face pasted to Lonny's chest with sweat. He yawned and stretched, curling his toes and lacing his fingers, and began the process of disengaging himself from the kid. Jack snuffled and grunted, then turned away. He pulled the covers over the kid's shoulders and slid out of bed.
It was warm enough, and Lonny heard the furnace running as he ambled into the bathroom. After draining himself, he turned to the mirror and pulled the rubber band out of his hair. He'd forgotten to take it out, and his hair was bunched up and pulled to one side. He stripped of the boxers and got in the shower.
When he came back into his bedroom, Jack had turned towards the door but was still snoozing. Lonny dropped his towel and quietly opened the top dresser drawer. He chose some low-rise briefs and pulled them on, and as he turned to the closet for pants, he noticed a pair of sleep puffed eyes watching him.
"Sorry, Jack. I thought you were asleep. I didn't mean to flash you." His face was red as he opened the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans.
"S'okay." Jack grinned and rubbed his nose. "You're buff."
"Thanks." Lonny smiled and pulled on the pants and sat on the end of the bed, reaching for socks. "You're pretty cut yourself."
"Really?" Jack slid up so that he was sitting and scratched his head.
"Yeah." Lonny looked at him. "How about you get a shower, then I'll make some breakfast." Jack nodded and yawned, throwing back the covers. Lonny noticed that the boy was moving like he was very stiff, and he waited for Jack to get to him before leading him towards the bathroom.
"Are you sore?" He asked, pulling a clean towel out of the hall closet.
"Yeah. My ribs hurt, and my back." Jack went to the toilet and fumbled with the sweat pants. "Kinda dizzy."
"Do you need to sit down?" Lonny saw him sort of wobble and he moved behind him to catch him if he fell. "Maybe you shouldn't be up."
"I'm okay." Jack finished and bent to flush. He got dizzy and pitched forward, and Lonny's arms wrapped around him, keeping him up right.
"Maybe I should stick close. What do you think?" Lonny asked, steadying him.
"Sorry. I'm kind of clumsy." Jack was clearly embarrassed.
"Tell you what, buddy. If you can lean against the walls and hold yourself up, I'll help you. No one needs to know you weren't feeling well." Jack nodded, and Lonny opened the shower door and turned it on. It didn't take long to get him undressed, and soon Jack wash enjoying the hot water as it pounded his back and relaxed his sore muscles.
Lonny used a wash clothe to soap him up all over, and carefully washed his long hair, all the while keeping a towel wrapped around himself so he didn't get soaked again. Jack moved like a cat under his touch, stretching and humming as Lonny's fingers worked into his back muscles. Finally, after a good rinse, Lonny wrapped him in the big towel and helped him out of the tub.
"That fells better." Jack said, moving his arm around at the shoulder joint. "Thanks."
"No problem, man. Glad it helped." Lonny got another towel and went to work on the kid's hair, careful not to tangle it up. He hated keeping his own straight, and working on someone else's was kind of cool. He picked up a brush and started stroking through it. Jack arched his back from time to time and sat with his eyes closed.
"Can I ask you something?" Jack said, watching in the mirror as Lonny brushed his hair back into a ponytail.
"Sure." Lonny met his eyes briefly in the mirror as he worked.
"Why are you so nice to me?"
Lonny looked up for a few seconds, thinking, and went back to work. "Looked like you needed a friend."
"I never had friends." Jack said quietly, fumbling his thumbs.
"Do you remember something, Jack?" Lonny asked, adjusting the rubber band.
"Sorta. Like a shadow, but not the face." Jack stood up and allowed him self to be led back into the bedroom. "I feel like an idiot or a baby."
"Look, man, you got the shit beat out of you. Maybe your brain just isn't ready to go through that." Lonny sat the kid on the bed and turned to the dresser. "It'll come back, I'm sure." He rummaged in the drawers and sighed. "We've got a problem, Jack. I have damned few pairs of underwear that'll fit you. Which one's do you want?"
Jack grinned and pointed. "Like yours."
Lonny snorted a laugh and pulled out another pair of low risers. "You know, people would say we're sluts wearing these." He slid them over the kid's feet and helped him stand up. "However, comma, I think they look and feel sexy." He slid them up until Jack could get a hold of them.
"Me, too." Jack adjusted them and looked in the mirror over the dresser. "They feel cool."
"They look good, too." Lonny smiled and turned to the closet. "Your lucky baggy clothes are in style. It doesn't matter if my pants are to big on you." He sorted to the back of the closet and found an older pair of jeans and a wide black belt. After helping Jack into those, he pulled out a long sleeved cable knit shirt and handed to the kid, then found him a pair of shoes.
"Let's get some breakfast." Lonny pulled on a shirt and led them down the hall to the kitchen. Jack helped him crack the eggs while Lonny started the bacon. As he watched, Jack cracked the shells one handed in the fashion of someone that had worked in a restaurant or diner. It was like part of the boy's memories were fine, and others just weren't available.
While they sat at the table, Lonny called his parents to tell them he'd have a guest. He was worried about taking Jack, but didn't want to leave him alone either. He hoped that Ronnie had gotten in before the airport closed. She had. She answered the phone.
"It's about time, brat." She said dripping with sarcasm. "I wanted to open my presents while I'm still young enough to wear them."
"Hey, Ronnie. I'm glad you made it in." He smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Listen, I need your help with something."
"Like what?"
Lonny watched as Jack cleared the dishes and rinsed them. What do I tell her, he thought. He sighed and dived into the story, telling her the truth.
"Anyway, I can't leave him here. He'd be scared to death. And what if his memory all the sudden comes back?"
"Well, bring him and tell them that he's the neighbor's kid, and that the neighbors were in an accident in the snow last night or something." She chuckled in his ear. "It's not very like you to rescue the poor and down trodden, Lonny. Especially not the naked and freezing males of the world. What gives?"
"Please don't start, Veronica. Yeah, he's pretty, but he needs help, not sex." He covered his eyes with his hand. "I keep trying to get myself to call the police, but I don't want him to leave, either."
"Well don't mess him up on Christmas. Give him today and call tomorrow. He's safe, he isn't in any danger, and maybe he'll remember something."
Lonny nodded and stood up. "Thanks, sis. I appreciate it."
"No problem. I think we even have some things we can give him for Christmas. They were for our cousin, Matt, but they were two big. Size 28 or something. Some jeans and a t-shirt. I'll wrap them and tell mom about your gesture of the season."
"Thanks, Ronnie. Be there in about an hour depending on the roads." He hung up and turned to Jack. "Well, buddy, you're coming with me to my parents for Christmas dinner." He smiled and put his arm around Jack's shoulders. "We eat until we explode, we open gifts, and we watch football, in that order."
"Cool." Jack rubbed his hands nervously. "I don't want to be in the way, though."
Lonny laughed. "You slept in my bed last night, Jack. This isn't even inconvenient compared to the last nine hours, okay?"
"Oh, yeah." Jack grinned and accepted a coat from Lonny.
Jerry and Lynn Ricks lived in an area of Denver known as Cherry Hills. There were several subdivisions created in the seventies and eighties that had matured into middle class neighborhoods, and they occupied a split level brick home in the center of a cul-de-sac. An enormous willow tree lived in the front yard, protecting the front of the house from the afternoon sun.
Lonny pulled into the driveway and stopped the Jeep, thanking God once again for the four-wheel drive. Jack, bundled up in Lonny's old ski coat, looked around the neighborhood but was silent. He seemed to get a little sullen as they left the downtown area, and Lonny had left him to his thoughts during the trip.
They got out and walked up to the porch. As Lonny reached for the screen door, it burst open and Ronnie launched her self into his arms and kissed his check. "Merry Christmas, Lil' Bro!" She shouted happily.
"Ronnie!" Loony wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet. He hadn't seen her since May, and he hadn't realized how bad he missed her. "Jesus you look great. Tanned, even." They moved inside with Jack in tow, looking around in amazement.
There were several rounds of hugs, and Lynn and Ronnie hugged even Jack as Lonny introduced him and explained that his dad had been in an accident last night, and his mother was at the hospital with him. Of course, Lonny couldn't leave Jack alone on Christmas, and everyone treated the kid to a round of sympathy while Ronnie tried not to crack up. Lonny shot her a look as he hung up his coat.
"You come right in the kitchen, kiddo, and have some spiced cider. I'm very glad Lonny did one decent thing this year and brought you out to celebrate with us." Lynn took the boy's hand and led him away. He looked back at Lonny for help, and Lonny help his hands up and mouthed 'it'll be okay.'
"Poor little shit." Ronnie said for Lonny's ears alone. "Damn, he is a looker, isn't he?"
"Yeah." Lonny didn't even pretend to evade his sister's insinuation. "I hope when he remembers what's going on he thinks about me."
"How old is he? Do you know?" She asked, following Lonny into the living room. "Eighteen?"
"I hope so." He shot her a glare. "Otherwise I'd be in deep shit, dumb ass."
"Sorry." She said, and meant it. "I didn't mean to imply that you'd done anything with him you shouldn't." She looked at the floor for a second and back at him. "Did you?"
"Ronnie!" He said, exasperated.
The day passed quickly enough, and true to her word there were gifts for Jack under the tree. He was thrilled with the clothes and a small box of candy, and Lonny immensely enjoyed watching him open them. Ronnie led the kid to her room so he could change into them, and with a blush on his face; he came back out and modeled them for everyone.
After a traditional turkey dinner, of which Jack amazed everyone with his ability to consume food, Jerry commanded that it was to for 'The watching of the Grid Iron.' Lonny showed Jack to a couch in the family room where they could sit together, and Jerry stretched out in his recliner. The pre-game show was on for the Denver Broncos, and Lynn and Ronnie sat on the other couch and talked about California.
Lonnie picked up a pad and pencil and scribbled scores from time to time, noting the players and their actions. It was an old habit that he and his dad had so that they could analyze the game after it was over. Jack picked up the pad and doodled absent-mindedly on it, bored with the game, but turning to slouch comfortably against Lonny, who didn't seem to mind.
Without realizing it, he was writing names. Christan York, Diane York, Dirk Pennley, Kapp Larsen. He wrote them in block letters and in cursive, not paying the slightest attention to what it said. His mind wandered about Lonny, and about sleeping next to him, and the shower.....
"What's that?" Lonny asked quietly, breaking Jack's reverie. "Who are those people?" He took the pad and looked at it more carefully.
"I'm not sure." Jack was embarrassed and went to put the pencil down.
"Hang on, I have an idea. Sign your name like you were cashing a check. Don't think about it, just sign it quick like you're in a hurry." Jack looked at him curiously and took the offered pad back. He sighed, and then quickly wrote out his signature. Christan J. York. It was actually a very clear and neat penmanship.
"I think that's you, Jack." Lonny whispered excitedly. "I think you're Christan. Does it ring a bell?"
"I'd rather be Jack." He set the pad aside and put his head on Lonny's shoulder.
Ronnie sat on the couch with her mother reading the paper. It had been months since she saw the Denver Post, and she was thoroughly enjoying it for a change. It seemed so Mayberry-ish after living in California. Her mother finished the front section and handed it to her, trading for the comics.
She scanned the headlines and turned to the second page, silently missing the old days when the new airport was such a controversy. There was an article about a grisly murder in Aurora, and she stopped to read it more carefully. The murderer, a Dirk Pennley, was in jail and charged with murdering his live in girl friend, Diane York. A second body, belonging to a teen male, identified as K. Larsen, was found outside the home. York's eighteen-year-old son was believed dead after witnesses saw the boy being beaten in the front yard of the home by Pennley. Pennley, witnesses said, threw the boy, dressed only in a bath towel, into his truck and drove off. Police arrested Pennley approximately two hours later. There was no sign of the youth, Christan York.
The hair on the back of Ronnie's neck stood up. Her eyes wide, she looked up and caught Lonny's eyes. She blinked several times rapidly, their old signal that she needed to talk to him right now, alone. He nodded and spoke softly to Jack, telling him he was going to the rest room.
Ronnie stood up and follow a moment later, taking her glass to the kitchen for a fresh Diet Coke. Lonny was at the fridge pouring a drink as she came in. "I know who he is!" She whispered urgently and handed him the paper. "Lonny, he's blocking his memory because he saw a double murder!"
"Oh, shit." Lonny mumbled and read the article. "He was just writing all these names on the note pad."
"The good side is, we know who he is now, and we can tell the police he's safe." Ronnie took his glass and took a swallow, an action that always annoyed the hell out of Lonny, but he never stopped her. "The bad news is, his mom is dead. Now what are you going to do?"
"I don't know, but I'm not worried about him staying with me if he wants to." Lonny leaned on the counter. "You're going to think this is stupid, but I really like him."
"I don't think it's stupid, but I think you're buying trouble. Is he gay?"
"I'm almost sure he is, but it's not the sex thing, Ronnie. I just feel good with him." He shrugged and to a drink. "Doesn't make sense, does it?"
"Actually, yeah, it does." She put her arms around him and hugged him hard. "You sure can pick 'em, Lon."
On the way home, Jack was very quiet, looking out the side window at the snowy streets. Lonny glanced over from time to time, but left Jack, or Christan, to his thoughts and his privacy. The radio played, and Lonny tuned it to the Christmas station.
His own mind wandered as he drove, and he couldn't get the images out of his head from that morning. Jack when he woke up with his eyes all puffy, and Jack standing in the shower, totally trusting of Lonny's hands and presence. Jack while he helped him get dressed. He was beautiful. A sculpted work of art. A sculpture that had only the tiniest amounts of body hair, and very fine hair where he did.
He couldn't help but believe that the kid's personality wasn't very different with or without memories. He was so open and given to trust. It made Lonny wonder about the murders and what provoked them. Someday, Jack would have to see the article he had folded in his wallet.
Jack yawned hugely and hung their coats up when they got home. Lonny turned the heat up a little and wandered into the bedroom. "Jack, there's clothes you can change into to relax if you want. Some sweats and stuff." He called back down the hall. He stripped bare and put on some baggy sweats and an old stretched out t-shirt, standard attire when he was home.
Jack wandered in and pulled his shirt off, tossing it in the same pile that Lonny had started, and fumbled with his belt. His face was troubled, and he looked down at the floor. Lonny laid out a t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, and sat on the end of the bed, worried.
Jack sat on the end of the bed in his underwear and stared at his feet. "I remember being called Chris now." He said quietly. "That's what Kapp called me, anyway."
"Who's Kapp?" Lonny sat and listened intently.
"A friend." Jack rubbed his finger under his nose and pulled his underwear off and replaced them with the flannel pants. "Why are you so nice to me?" He asked, echoing his question that morning. His voice was cautious and searching, and he didn't look up.
Lonny leaned over and gently took Jack's face in his hands. He turned Jack's head so they were face to face. "Because I think you're a good person, and because I like your company, and because..." He trailed of as Jack's eyes searched his. Those huge brown eyes that contained every emotion in them. He swallowed hard, taken in by them.
"Because.......?" Jack prompted in an almost whisper.
Lonny leaned forward, no, was drawn forward, and kissed Jack lightly on the lips. "Because you're the most beautiful person I've ever met, and I hope you'll stay for as long as you want." He whispered.
Jack blinked several times, and his eyes watered up. He threw his arms around Lonny's neck and sobbed; letting all of the emotions he'd been trying to figure out gush out at once. Lonny held him and rocked gently for several minutes, just providing comfort and nothing else. He stroked Jack's beautiful hair and smooth cheeks.
Eventually, Jack relaxed against him and his breathing slowed and got deeper. Lonny almost thought he was asleep until he spoke, his voice changed, more resonant. Self assured, or a little bit anyway. "I don't want to ever be away from here. Nobody ever made me feel like you do." He sniffed and rubbed his eyes.
"Look, I don't know what happened to you," Lonny lied, putting his cheek on top of Jack's head, "and I really don't care. Take your time and get better. You're safe here." He rubbed Jack's back gently. "God, are you always this tense? Your shoulders are like rocks."
"They always hurt." Jack mumbled, leaning against Lonny and closing his eyes. "That hurts, but it feels good."
"It would be easier if you got on the bed. Take your shirt off." Jack complied and stretched out on his stomach, and Lonny moved over him and straddled his ass. "Just relax, okay? Don't move, don't think, just relax." He began kneading Jack's shoulders with his fingers and pressing hard enough to break them loose.
Jack grunted every now and then but never moved. Lonny moved a little lower and rubbed around the kid's shoulder blades and ribs, taking extra time as he ran across stiff muscles. Jack's breathing was slow and even, and Lonny smiled, pleased with his work.
When he got to Jack's waste, the kid shot him a grin over his shoulder and lifted his hips. Lonny smirked and pulled the sweat pants off, marveling at Jack's smooth lines and beautiful physique. He started the massage again; working Jack's hips over and moving eventually down his legs one at a time. He finished up with a thorough foot massage, causing Jack to groan with pleasure.
He stood up from the bed and mopped his sweaty face with his shirt. "Okay, hot shot, turn over and I'll do your neck and chest."
"I can't." Jack mumbled into the mattress.
Lonny turned the bedside lamp on and turned out the room light. "C'mon, you little shit. I've seen you naked for two days now. You gonna get modest now?" He pulled off his shirt and tossed it in the dirty clothes. "Now come on. I want to turn the bed down, too."
Jack turned his head to look at Lonny, and his face was red. A wide grin covered his face. "You asked for it." He rolled over, producing a sizable erection and grinned like a fool. "I couldn't help it. I like feeling you touch me."
"Oh yeah?" Lonny flashed his perfect teeth in a killer smile. In one fluid motion he stripped off his sweats and moved onto the bed, crawling over and gently kissing Jack's perfect lips. "I like feeling you, too." He mumbled and closed the fingers of his hand around Jack's cock and giving it a gentle tug.
"Holy shit." Jack breathed out. "Oh that's so good." He wrapped his arms around Lonny's ribs and threw himself into another kiss, this time with an element of passion. Lonny turned his head to make himself more accessible, and was rewarded with Jack's tongue meeting his.
He jumped slightly when he felt Jack's hand on his own hard on. With the exception of his failed romance, no one had ever touched him but himself. He was uneasy for a second, but it passed away as Jack became more determined in his explorations. Lonny grunted and rolled onto his side to make room.
Both realized that they had almost no experience between them, and both would've given their right foot to last a little longer. Jack's extremely slender and defined stomach tensed up as Lonny jacked him, and a warm feeling surged into his guts. "Oh shit!" he squeaked and closed his eyes tight, then bucked into the air involuntarily with a shout, sending white ropes of fluids up over his head and onto his chest. He gasped for air, his head whirling, and it took several seconds for him to get oriented.
"Wow." Lonny said with a cheesy grin. "That was pretty impressive." Jack looked at him and smiled, still breathing hard.
"Your turn, Lon." He half whispered and threw himself at Lonny. Lonny was stunned as he felt Jack's mouth on his cock. He hadn't expected anything like this, and he shivered at the sensations traveling through his system. "Oh my God, Jack. Oh, shit!" He fell backwards on the bed and writhed as the energy built in him.
Jack had no idea what he was doing, but it was obvious that it was the right thing because Lonny was thrashing from side to side and moaning. Jack doubled his efforts and went a little faster. He kept two fingers wrapped around the base of Lonny's cock, and enveloped the rest in his mouth, sliding his tongue along the underside and applying a fair amount of pressure.
"Aaaaaaaahhh!" Lonny grunted and bucked hard, unable to control the inevitable. "Jack!" Was all he could say before his orgasm hit, crashing through his nerves like a steam engine. Surge after surge went into Jack's mouth before Lonny slid into that delirium filled void for a moment and tried to get his breath back.
"Tastes kinda good." Jack licked his lips and wiped his chin as he crawled up by Lonny on the bed. He had swallowed almost every drop, despite almost choking, and he was feeling a little proud. From the look on Lonny's face, he did a good job. Lonny lay whatever fears were left to rest as he scooped Jack into his arms and gave him a long deep kiss. They slowly settled together and pulled the covers up, and Lonny barely had time to turn out the light before they slept.
I'm nervous as hell, but I really want to know what you think. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE email me and let me know if you thought it was cool, or if you thought it sucked.
bradysyorktown@hotmail.com