Date: Mon, 27 Jul 2009 18:19:21 -0700 (PDT) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: JULY sizzles 04 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 state 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. % JULY sizzles 04 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % Third week of July, relationships began to sizzle! Off to work, Jean-Claude put in his 8 hours, Emre carpooling from home to work as well, his summer job underway. With Kevin needing `something' to do to earn money and no talent recalled on his part, he tagged along. Surprisingly he was found resourceful in the `labor' department of Lomberiou-Quesada-O'Keefe-Finsterwalder-'Temel', the `Temel' added by Jean-Claude to make Emre feel a part of the firm. Monday morning brought about Denny looking out towards the ocean, drawing his finger down the glass of the rather long window. "Is this on the inside or outside?" Denny asked. He answered his own question when the residue wasn't moved by his finger. "Outside," Jean-Claude drew resolve. He adds, "And are you planning on doing any real work today, Denny?" He turns to his partner and best friend, saying, "I'd `much' rather watch the action outside, J.C.?" Jokingly, Jean-Claude takes a wailing Denny by the ear, leading him over to the desk. "Ouch.. ouch... ouch... careful! You're going to hurt where I'm getting my earring!" Letting go, Jean-Claude says, "Maybe Oprah can loan you one of her hoops!" "Funny J-C. I'd like to see you make fun of AJ's earring." "Him too?" "Yep and if you were to say any itty, bitty thing about it, he'd pound you into the groung with his pinky!" "Of that I'm quite sure," Jean-Claude said of Denny's beefy, bear boyfriend. "Okay, so I take back the Oprah." Denny chuckled and replied, "Trust me J-C. You wouldn't want AJ to go and make you sit down on his lap!" "Oh? So should I phone the FBI and report his weapon of mass destruction?" Breaking up their little bout of fun and play, Kevin walks in, carrying a bag in one hand, chewing on a donut with the other. Like ignoring Jean-Claude, he sideswipes him in conversation, "Hey Denny you missed it!" "Missed what?" "Out in front. Some hot dude on a Harley!" Kevin replies. He laughs as Denny tears past him. "I just unglued those eyes from the window, Kevin!" But Jean-Claude wasn't too far behind Denny! "Hey, he's coming in here!" Denny said excitedly. "Yeah," Jean-Claude said merrily, "ain't he a fuckin' hot dish!" "You better not let Brendan hear you talkin' like that, J-C!" Maybe Jean-Claude knew something Denny didn't! "Hey, he looks damn familiar. Maybe a client?" "Maybe more," Jean-Claude replies. And sure enough, as the motorcycle dude gets to the front door, he removes the helmet and dark sunglasses. "You knew all along!" Denny accuses his long time friend. When the door opens, Jean-Claude greets the `greaser', "Hey babe. How was your cruise down the parkway?" "Breezy!" "I had a feeling it was you," Denny claims. "Really?" Brendan asks. Wise, Jean-Claude tells him, "He didn't have a clue, Bren!" They laughed it off as Brendan helped himself to opening a cabinet and stashing his motorcycle gear. "So where did you get the motorcycle?" While Denny and Brendan talked bikes, Jean-Claude corners Kevin. "Say, how do you think you would at be handling a bucket and sponge?" "Um, does this mean I'm going to have to do some work?" Kevin replies. Smiling, Jean-Claude replies, "I figured it would help pay for the second donut in your hand, among other things?" "Oh," Kevin replied, looking at the Boston cream pastry. "Yeah, I guess I could do... what is it you want me to do?" "Tell me. What do you know about windows?" "You open them when you want to access a website?" Taking Kevin by the arm, he heads out the front door, saying, "Not `those' kind of windows, my window-washing friend!" Around the side of the building, Jean-Claude leads Kevin to a detached shed. He keys the lock and opens the door. Flipping a switch the windowless hut lights up. "Stinks in here!" Jean-Claude laughs at Kevin, not only the remark, but the cute way he shrivels up his nose. "Maybe during the summer you can work on that too. Here you go," he picks up a unit with a long hose. "Hey wait. I've seen one those things before. Power sprayer? Wow! I thought I was `really' going to have to work!" Kevin says, showing more interest in the modern convenience rather than a bucket and sponge. "Well be careful. It's not a paintball toy. You can really do damage if you hit somebody with this." With the ins and outs of the unit added to his capabilities, Kevin set out to clean the front of the building. Meantime Jean-Claude set about his business, working in his office, one of five of a separate suite of rooms. Every once in awhile he would check up on `the hired help', seeing what Emre was up to, planning out the garden in the back and then making sure Kevin was directing the power spray on the building and not the rest of Asbury Park! "How are things going Emre?" "Good I think. I maybe have problem with this?" A rather wide and deep courtyard, it's primary focus had been to set up casual meeting areas, outdoor tables and chairs for clients. Over the weekend Kevin got kind of bored with Emre and Jean-Claude's shop talk, so he and Brendan walked down to the surf shop. Now on the job, in the environment of his project, his mind raced with new ideas as well as those they dwelled on back at the condo. "You know this could not only be for business?" "Not for business... how do you mean that Emre?" "Look! The wall of this building in the back." All Jean-Claude could see was two stories of gray drywall. "Two stories of gray drywall?" "Correct," Emre replies, looking up at the dull finish of the building. "This mean no one can look down into property if you have party or relax." He wasn't getting it, other than, "The main facade of the building faces Kingsley Street. It's been vacant for a year and I've been after the owners to put in a bid for it." And surveying with his hand, Jean-Claude gets way off target, "If I could acquire it, would be nice to own the whole triangular property. Thought I might see about renovating it..." Emre knew he wasn't getting it. He wasn't supposed to get it. After rambling on, Jean-Claude realizes he's strayed and returns to Emre, "I don't get it." Unfolding a piece of paper, several times, Emre talked while doing it, "I figure this out." "Wait. We have to get you a table." Taking the large parcel of paper, Jean-Claude folds it back up. They went inside, Emre getting an immediate chill, the cool AC versus the rising temps of the ocean morning. "Brrr!" he said in a sharp tone. Walking into a dark room, Jean-Claude flips a switch, illuminating the interior. "No reason why you shouldn't be treated like the rest of us!" Indirectly, it served as a compliment, making Emre feel good. He looks around. Unlike Jean-Claude's office, clusters of filing cabinets and other office furniture, it is void of the major office attire, crudely equipped, the main focus a slanted table. Switching an overhead lamp on he says, "Here. We'll lay your drawing out on this and..." "This is nice office," Emre says after looking around, his eyes looking down. "Glad you think so. It's yours until I have to kick you out!" "Me? Mine? My own office? But it can't be!" Emre says with astonishment. "Why not?" "Me.. I don't have degree!" "You think the guy who built the Coliseum in Rome did either?" Jean-Claude jokes. "It is architecture masterpiece!" It sat well with Jean-Claude, amazed at the thought of Emre knowing such a fact. But rather than digress he kept on subject, pocketing the thought for the time being. "So, what's your idea here Emre?" Meanwhile, out in front of Lomberiou-Quezada-O'Keefe-Finsterwalder & `Temel', Kevin went about his business of cleaning not only windows, but jet-spraying the sidewalk. Five minutes prior he had stripped his shirt, due to the heat of the morning air and fine water residue. Not that it didn't feel good to get hosed down, but his tee shirt sticking to his skin made working awkward. He sprayed towards the left side, then right, until he accidentally got a pair of dress shoes wet. "Oops!" He looks up as he turns the sprayer to almost nonexistent water power. "Sorry mist....er..." He realized it wasn't an older dude, one which would qualify for the calling title, but rather a guy seemingly his own age. "Um, I mean sorry dude." "It's..." the guy wiggled one foot, standing on the other, then repeated the other way around. "... like... okay." Very interested in the blond, at least his welfare where he was probably on his way to his job, all dressed in a suit and tie, he offers, "I guess you're on your way to work and can't go back home, huh?" "Well, uh..." Kevin then `had' to smile, knowing he was being checked out! "I could run to the jon and get some paper towels?" "Thanks, but I've got an interview," he pulls out a piece of paper, looks at it, looks at the building Kevin was cleaning and replies, "125 Lake. This is the place." "You have an interview here?" Kevin questions him. "Yes. With a Mr.," he restudies the slip of paper, "Jean-Claude," he pronounces it `cloud', "Lomberiou." Even though Kevin could classify himself as a very good friend, he didn't put on any airs, rather the opposite, "Nice man to work for. You'll like him." And as the dude placed a hand on the door, Kevin watched his every move, offering, "Push in on the door, um..." "Oh, my name's Sebastien." It was all Kevin got, the door quickly closing behind Sebastien. He smiled, thinking of two things. One, the guy checking him out and two, him checking Sebastien out!. He turned on the power sprayer. Indoors, Sebastien came face to face with Cody Finsterwalder, the thirty-two year old greeting him with a handshake and asking, "May I be of help sir?" Sebastien felt kind of weird, having been addressed by a guy probably ten years older than himself, but took the hand and gently returned the squeeze. "I'm Sebastien Montesant. I have an appointment with Mr. Lomberiou?" Cody, feeling like youth hitting him all over again, bubbly replies, "I'm happy to meet you Sebastien. You can call me Cody." "Nice to meet you Cody," the muscled twenty-one year old replies. And then to throw hint, he looks down at their hands, still intact with a handshake, "um?" "Oh! sorry `bout that. Um sure..." Cody unlocks fingers and releases. "Let me see if J-C..." nervously, "Um, I mean Mr. Lomberiou is available... you wait right here!" On his way out of the main office, heading towards the suite of private offices, Cody `had' to `check'. "Whew!" he congratulated himself, he hadn't gone too far, hadn't sported any kind of rigor mortis between his legs. Poking his head into the doorway, Cody says, "Um, J-C there's a guy... I mean a gentleman out in the office asking for you?" "Asking for me?" Jean-Claude thinks. "Did he give a name?" "A Sebastien Montesant?" "Oh yes! Sebastien!" Jean-Claude makes the connection. He excuses himself with Emre, telling him to try to reword his suggestions into the master plan before them, a rather crude drawing, but nevertheless some great ideas on paper and walks back to the main office with Cody. "My landlady," Jean-Claude begins to explain, "I couldn't help but at least promise her an interview for her nephew." And expecting the worst, he asks Cody, "How does he look?" From the lineage of his landlady, a chubby woman whom spat out half her words, mostly associated with four letters, he wasn't expecting much from the Montesant lineage, even though it `did' sound like a sophisticated French surname. "Too bad he's French because he's built more like a Greek God!" Chuckling, Jean-Claude comments, "Did he make you sidetrack to the jon, Cody?" Feeling up his crotch, Cody replies, "Tell ya... I was almost there!" Astounded was to say the least, Jean-Claude standing there, gazing upon Sebastien as if a baby watermelon, in anticipation of it's slicing open, revealing it's sweet, juicy flavor. "Thank you very much for allowing me to come for an interview," Sebastien offers his hand when Jean-Claude doesn't. "Jean-Claude Lomberious," Jean-Claude offers, along with his hand. "I've got a building to build," Cody excuses himself. "I'll leave you two alone." Jean-Claude got Cody's secret message and was hoping Sebastien didn't! What complicated matters, Jean-Claude well agreeing with Cody, is Kevin walking in the front door. "I'm done with the sprayer. What else?" Drenched from head to toe, the two looked upon Kevin, his wet hair sagging over his face, then his hairy pits as he reaches up to push it all back, his skin stretching over his abs, his nips hard as rocks from the cold air. "Brrr! It's cold in here!" he exclaims, quickly putting his arms around his middle. "My shirt got kind of wet. I left it drying out front over the railing. That's okay right?" "Fine," is all Jean-Claude could say. It's not like he hasn't seen Kevin shirtless, but the idea of Sebastien taking interest in the viewing of what seemed like a model all prepped for a photo shoot, it would make any gay man horny-on-the-spot! "What do you want me to do next?" To get his mind off of one thing and onto the real business, Jean-Claude detours, "Uh Kevin, have you met Sebastien?" "Yeah," he lets out a chuckle. "I'm responsible for cleaning his shoes this morning." And then jumping the gun, in a joyful manner he jokes, "Is Sebastien going to be part of the maintenance crew like me?" Being it was last week he promised his landlady to at least grant Sebastien an interview and with all that was going on at home, it completely slipped Jean-Claude's mind. Therefore, he hadn't a clue to where he was going to place Sebastien. With a lull, Sebastien says, "I would be happy to do most anything. Jobs are kind of tough to find this summer, you know with the economy?" For Jean-Claude, world famous for his designs, he wasn't hurting as much as the next guy, but still he hadn't planned on adding another bod to the force, but `this bod' he was wanting to and since Kevin had mentioned it, Sebastien reinforcing the position, it left him no choice, "You won't have to come all dressed up tomorrow and.." he was making it up as he went along, "Kevin!" "What J-C?" Kevin jumped as Jean-Claude rather threw his words at him. "Why don't you show Sebastien the shed out back?" "But I finished out front. What do you want me... us to do next?" "Are the windows spotless?" Kevin walks over and takes a peek. "Not really. The grime is gone, but there's like little water drops all over them?" "Probably paper towels and cleaner will help?" Kevin and Jean-Claude look towards Sebastien, Kevin saying, "At least one of us has a brain. C'mon. Let's see if we can get you dirty Sebastien!" He watched as Kevin took Sebastien under his wing, literally, Kevin's arm over Sebastien's shoulder. As they were going, Brendan made his second entrance of the day. "How's the move going?" "Slow. With one person it's like baby steps," Brendan replies, flopping himself down into a swivel chair. He holds his shirt out to vent. "No. Let it stick to you!" "Like this?" He not only lets the tee drop back onto his sweaty frame, but pulls it back tautly. Indelible, it can be seen, the tiny hard pec spots. "I think I need to take a trip to the little boy's room!" It wasn't only Brendan's chest Jean-Claude was looking at! "Say! What's Kevin up to? You think he could give me a hand? That is if you don't have him involved in a project?" "Bren, you're a Godsend!" And he filled him in on `why'! % Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author. If you don't adhere to this condition, you run the risk of having your pants sued off you... might lose your shirt too! The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....