Date: Sat, 11 Feb 2012 20:46:00 -0800 (PST)
From: CJDenton <mcitywriter@yahoo.com>
Subject: Clayton's Acquisition Chapter 12

Thanks for reading Please let me know what you think: mcitywriter@yahoo.com

Chapter 12 : Tare on The Town
"I have to get to work baby, I have
more crazy meetings today. I promise we'll talk when I get home tonight... I
promise."
"You said that yesterday... and Monday,"
I held on to his neck as he tried to set me down on the carpet and kiss me
goodbye before shutting the wall to the lower level where I stayed while he was
at work.
Clay had been super busy the last few
days and we never got to just talk, especially about what happened at Friday's
party with him hitting Andy and pretty much ignoring my feelings. He'd spent
the whole rest of the weekend preparing for this week's big business deals. He
kept saying he'd get it finished and we'd be back to normal. I was definitely
losing faith.
"Baby... please! Be my good boy and I
promise I'll come home earlier tonight and we'll spend time together." He
pushed me away and started for the stairs. He'd forgotten to say he loved me.
He always said that, kissed me on the forehead and then stopped before he slid
the wall closed and took a minute to look me over.
I froze as he slid the panel closed,
checking his phone and not looking at me. I heard him slide the lock and go up
the first few steps. My heart started to pound and I went to the wall and
kicked at it.
"Not Fucking Fair!" I yelled as I
kicked at the door. I stopped and heard his footsteps coming back down the
stairs. I wasn't sure where the angry outburst had come from. I don't usually kick
stuff. On the other hand, I knew where it came from. He'd pretty much had no
contact with me other than sex for the last week. Sex was good. Sex was great,
but it was the only time we connected. Sure he held me every night, kissed me
and enjoyed my body almost as much as I needed. I needed his time.
He came down a few steps and I waited
expectantly for him to open the door. He didn't. I heard his hand tap against
the door and I said, "Please daddy."
"I have to go baby. I'm so sorry," he
whispered from the other side and his footsteps once again sounded farther away
as he hurried up the stairs. Again I was left without a reassurance of love,
verbal of physical. My stomach turned sideways as I stared at the cold, grey
wall.
I sank to the floor and sat against
the cold tile for a few minutes. I got my mp3 player from the desk and decided
to start on my school work for the day. I did a few math problems but the cloud
of anger was far from settling down in my head. I moved over to the sliding
doors to the back patio with the large pool it had always been too cold outside
to use.
I was over this room, this life, this
solitary existence. I needed to go outside, but all I had on were red and white
plaid pajama pants and a small white tank top. I put a hand to the glass and
got a chill from the icy day. I scanned the room but knew there weren't proper
clothes down here. It would be useless to go out, freeze and then come back
inside with only a small blanket to warm me.
I started back towards the desk to get
back to work when I remembered something Clay had told me on my first morning
down here. It seemed like forever ago. The escape route! I suddenly snapped my
head towards the sliding door. He'd said if there was a fire, I should go down
the pathway and find a box with clothes in it and then go down to the
neighbor's house and ask to use the phone to call for help.
I pulled on my workout shoes and
rushed out the sliding door and secured it behind me. I wrapped my arms around
my chest against the blistery day. I walked twice around the pool before I
found the pathway of stone steps that wound down the canyon side. I wanted to
run down the steps but I wasn't sure where the box was with clothing.
Finally, at a small clearing, I saw a
small red plastic box about the size of two shoe boxes. It was stuck behind a
large rock and under a bush. A squirrel watched me from atop it but scampered
away when I got closer. I pried it open as I shivered against the cold. My
whole body shook from the frigid wind. Inside, I found a plastic bag with the
air sucked out of it making it look like an astronaut's suitcase.
I found blue, long-sleeved thermal
shirt with red stripes across the chest and hurriedly put it on. It wasn't warm
enough to go far, but I guess he expected I'd wait at the neighbor's house
during an emergency. I changed my pajama pants for a pair of jeans that were a
little long for me. I rolled them up at the bottom.
 Last in the bag was a paper with a letter and
phone numbers. The letter was for anyone giving me help; it explained how to
contact Clay. The note said to please call him and please keep me safe and
there would be a reward when he was able to get to me. It made me think of
something you might tie around a monkey's neck just in case he wandered out.
I sat on the rock and read it over a
few times, shivering with cold and anger. Was I really this stupid that I
needed a note to give to strangers to keep me safe? For me, it summed up how he
saw me and our relationship. I was one lost puppy.
I crumpled the note and pushed it to
the bottom of my pocket. I shoved my pajamas into the box, closed it and slid
it back behind the rock. I pressed on further down the hill; no money or plans
but guided by anger.
The path wound down a few hundred feet
and ended near someone's backyard. A clearing allowed me to make it out to the
street. I didn't not which way to turn, but a block to my left I saw cars
barreling down a main road and decided there might be somewhere warm to hide
for a bit.
Pride Roast coffee was the first place
I found. It had pink frosted glass along cement walls giving it a gay
industrial look. I started to pass it up but then felt a rush of warm air as a
customer walked out. I shivered against it and decided I'd better go inside.
Small tables surrounded a square stage
against a high, cement wall. On the other wall, there was a long, stone
fireplace surrounded by large overstuffed chairs. I moved towards the fireplace
next to a tall, muscular man with a shaved head and tattoos. He had on a
purple, long-sleeved shirt that hugged his chiseled frame as he leaned over a
lap top and studied whatever he was working on. He looked up and smiled as I
sat on the hearth and gave him a shy half-smile.
"Are you ordering something or just
stealing heat?" a voice came from behind the counter and I looked up to see a
younger, chunky guy with a scowl and dirty hair.
"I uh..." I stood up and put my hands in
the pockets of the jeans but found no money. I hadn't had much use for money
since coming to live with Clay. It seemed odd to not have what I needed ordered
and paid for without my consultation. Now I couldn't order or pay for anything.
"I don't have any money," I sniffed
backed what the cold had worked its way into my sinuses.
"Yeah, well this ain't a soup kitchen.
So shuffle off to the shelter downtown." The counter guy barked with a wave
towards the door.
"Is that how you talk to a customer?"
The shaved head man stood up beside me. He towered over me and put a hand on my
shoulder, guiding me towards the counter.
"He's not a customer. We get homeless
people in here all day long chasing out our paying customers with their smell
and mooching."
Mr. shaved head leaned over me and
sniffed at my hair, "He smells freshly showered. He will have a hot chocolate
and make him a sandwich looks like he likes... turkey?" I nodded with a smile. He
set a Pride Roast Proud Customer rainbow gift card on the counter and slid it
over to the coffee guy who blushed and looked ashamed.
"Sorry," he said to Mr. shaved head
but didn't acknowledge me.
"Thanks. I didn't think about money
when I left. I didn't realize how cold it was. I haven't been outside in a few
days," I started to spill to the man as he led me back towards his chair and
pulled one up next to it for me. I sat down, folding my legs Indian-style under
me.
He said his name was Brent and asked
what was going on. He leaned in close and made heavy eye contact with rapt
attention. His warm brown eyes opened me up and I just started to spill all the
details of everything with Clay and Mr. Rorvik and slavetoy and Marshall and how
I got here and how things had changed recently. For the first time in a week
someone was listening to me, asking questions and not checking his phone.
"I can't go back there right now. I
love him so much but... Your head does crazy things when you are not used to
being completely alone all the time."
"I'd imagine," he said while taking my
hot chocolate from the server and setting the sandwich on the small table in
front of us, "Poor little guy. I don't get gay men sometimes. That's no way to
live."
"I don't know if he wants me anymore...
He hasn't said he loves me in a few days," I picked at the sandwich and sniffed
back a few tears.
 "Few men could fall out of love with you," he
started, "You're absolutely beautiful... flawless, but this is your life,
Tarrant. What do you want to do? What does Tarrant want to do?"
"I don't know..."
"I'm sorry," Brent reached over and
rubbed his index finger along my wrist.  "You're what, 15 years old?"
"I'm 17"
"Oh, god you look so young. Look,
here's my card," Brent fished a business card out of his wallet. "Anytime you
need an out, just call. Not perving. I swear. But you can stay with me and we
can find you some help."
"I'm not abused," I was horrified at
the message I must be sending to Brent. "I... we have a huge house. I have
everything I could ever want..."
"Except what you need," Brent rubbed
his finger and then splayed his hand over mine. It felt nice, warm, like Clay's
on the rare occasion I had his attention. "Locked up and ignored can be worse
than being physically or verbally abused. It's damaging."
"I should get back," I stood up,
leaving half the sandwich and downing the rest of the warm hot chocolate.
"I didn't mean to offend you. It's
only noon. Can I give you a ride?" Brent asked, looking worried.
"Oh shit it's noon? Uh... I just live up
the hill. I have to finish my school work." I jumped to my feet. I hadn't
realized how long we'd been talking by the warm fire.  I sipped at the last little bit of the drink
and thanked him again.
"Please, let me give you a ride, it's
started snowing," Brent closed up his laptop and stuffed it into a leather bag.
He stood up and fished keys out of his tight jeans. I nodded and followed him
out to a classic convertible on the side of the building. Clay normally calls
me at lunchtime and I'd left the cell phone on the desk in the room at home.
We pulled up to the house and I
thanked him again. He assured that I had his business card tucked into my
pocket and let me go with, "Good luck Tarrant, you're too young to have to
fight for things like this... but call me if things get too rough. You have an
out."
I kept hearing that from guys, but
part of me thought they would've wanted a lot more from me than they were
willing to give. I was becoming jaded about these things. I don't know where
that came from.
I crept around the side of the quiet
house and onto the back patio. The sliding door was open and I hopped inside to
the warm room and locked the door behind me. My relief was short-lived.
"Oh My God, what the fuck, Tare?"
slavetoy rushed over to me wearing a pair of torn jeans and a tight red
t-shirt. He looked worried and quickly raised the cell phone in his right hand,
hit a button and said, "He's here, he looks ok."
"Where did you go? You can't go off
without telling anyone. Clay is really freaked out. I've never seen him worried
like this," slavetoy looked at me impatiently.
I started to panic and feel badly that
I'd worried him, but I also had the overwhelming feeling that he loved me
enough to start a manhunt for me when I didn't answer the phone. A weird smile
spread across my face.
"Why are you smiling? Tare, you're
scaring us," slavetoy was shaken and worried. I was sure he'd absorbed some of
the stress I'd caused.
"I'm sorry. I needed to get out, go
for a walk. I lost track of the time," I looked down in case he was good at
reading lies.
"Cmon upstairs. He'll want to see you
when he walks through the door. Clay and my Master have been driving around
looking for you."slavetoy ushered me up the steps. The wall was slid back and
we went up to the living room. I sat on the couch anxiously but then started to
pace.
Clay didn't say a word as he rushed
into the room wearing his suit, neatly spiked hair and a red, breathy demeanor.
He came to me and lifted me up in his arms. He hugged me to his chest and I
buried my nose against his neck, breathing in a mix of cologne, sweat and
stress.
He held me a little too tightly, put
his lips down against my cheek. I felt his pulse race against me and I felt a
stab of guilt for worrying him, but an even bigger spike of joy that he cared
enough to toss his day to come find me.
"You don't know the things that go
through my head when I come home and find you gone. You can't do that to me,
Tare. It's not right... please don't leave me," Clay broke down in front of his
friends. He didn't cry, I don't think he does that. He didn't let go either.
"I had to go," I whispered, taking all
the strength I had to find my voice, "I can't stay here."
"Please don't leave me," Clay
whispered back to me. "I don't know what happened but please... don't leave."
I pushed away from him and sat up in
his lap. I felt my heart pounding in my ears and my voice choked up but I
pushed past the feeling of tears. "You don't know... do you?"
"I don't know why you left. I don't
know why you freaked out this morning. I don't know what's going on with my
boy. No baby, I don't. Tell... me," Clay looked down at me with imploring eyes.
"You left me first! You've ignored me
for more than a week. I haven't left the house since that party we had a fight
at. You treat me like a pet and lock me up when you're gone. You haven't talked
to me except when you needed a hole to use. I told you this morning I needed
you and you left... you walked away..." I got to my feet and stepped back from him,
repeating my opener, "You left me first."
"I... I had a busy week. I told you I'd
make it up to you and I will. I took you out to have fun last weekend. We were
supposed to have a relaxing night and hang out with friends until you went
off," Clay reached out for me like I was saying something stupid and he just
needed to hug it away. He traced a hand over the back of my hair.
"No you took me out to be a silent
decoration at your side while you talked to people who could care less about
me. My only friend was there," I pointed to slavetoy who backed up into
Marshall's arms. "And you wouldn't let me sit and talk to him. I have no
friends, no family, no one to talk to and my only other human, you, thinks I'm
too stupid to even find help for myself in an emergency," I pulled his note
from my pocket and Brent's business card slipped out. I pushed it back into my
pocket and tossed the emergency note he'd written at his feet.
"That was... That was a dumb note I just
didn't want you to have to deal with it if you panic in an emergency," Clay
sighed, "I haven't thought about your feelings. I'm sorry. Before you, I had
nothing else to think about but work. I'd sleep with whomever I wanted and not
have to worry about their feelings or things like that. I guess I'm not used to
thinking about someone else."
"And the wall," he continued, "That
was for your safety. All I think about is keeping you safe. I've never had
these protective, fatherly feelings towards anyone. It's crazy, Tare, so much
could happen to you and I tried to make a nice, warm place for you to be safe
all day while I'm out."
"It's weird," I interrupted. "It's
lonely."
"Ok, ok. I get that. I'm sorry. More
time for us and your friend and no more wall," Clay came towards me, "But you
cannot leave like that. You can't do that to me. I got halfway to my office and
realized what an asshole I was to walk away from you when you were hurting like
that. I turned around and rescheduled my appointments to spend the day fixing
things with you and then I came home to find you gone. Where did you go?"
"I went for coffee. It's right down
the hill. It's a pretty place!" I said excitedly.
"You hate coffee! We drove by that
place four times and even went in to the ice cream place next to it!" Clay said.
"Why would I go for ice cream?" I
spread my hands, "It's freezing out there. I needed to warm up by the
fireplace. I got some hot chocolate and a sandwich."
"Oh," Clay looked as though he hadn't
considered where a boy on foot would go in the freezing weather. "How did you
pay for it? You have no money or cards."
"A um... A guy offered to buy me a drink
so they wouldn't kick me out. We talked for awhile"
"A guy paid for your lunch? Your first
time on the streets and someone buys you lunch?" Clay was looking angry again.
"Daddddddyyyyy!" I started.
"No, no, you're right. I'm the one in
the doghouse here. I'm just happy you're safe. But we'll talk about that
another day. Way too many bees buzzing around my little flower," Clay shook his
head and leaned in to me, lifting me up into his arms as I wrapped my legs
around his waist.
"I should just be grateful that I'm
the one who gets to hold you," Clay balanced me on one arm and leaned in to
kiss me.
Marshall came over and gave me a kiss
on the cheek and said he was glad I was safe. Slavetoy put a hand on my
shoulder and said he was happy everything turned out ok. We said goodbye to
them with Clay still holding me. He carried me down to the bedroom and laid me
down. He stripped out of his suit and hung it up while I slid off the jeans and
sweater. He came to curl his warm, muscled body around me as I lay back against
the pillows and stretched.
Clay put his head to my chest and his
arms around my tummy. "I love this little body... My boy... I was so scared when
you weren't here," he said, tracing a hand up and down my tummy. "The house felt
wrong the moment I walked in. It scares me how much I need you."
"I need you too, daddy... all of you. I'm
sorry I left like that; I just didn't know how else to get your attention." It
felt weird with him around me. He wasn't usually this vulnerable. It felt
right, just different.
"So what do you want to do now? You
have my attention," Clay rubbed a hand up to my chest and tweaked a nipple
lightly. His pile of muscles body felt so warm and tender against my cold skin.
I wiggled down and clay lifted his
head, and then brought it down as we faced each other. "You fuck me?" I know I
should have gone for a serious talk. He was listening now, but I can't resist
his body. He smiled, leaned in and bit my lip softly. "Yeah baby, I fuck you."
We worked out all our tension, rolling
around together, our bodies intertwined in the rhythm that satisfied our needs.
It's definitely one of the things we're best at. He cradled me into him as we
laid there, spent and exhausted until we drifted off.
I opened my eyes a few hours later. My
head was against his chest and he sat up against the pillows clicking away at
his laptop. I stirred and he hit a few keys and then snapped it shut guiltily. "I
just wanted to settle some things while you napped. What do you want to make
for dinner?"
"I kinda want to go out. Is that ok?" I
kissed his chest and looked up at him with needy eyes.
"Yeah, there's a new sushi place down the
hill that Len raves about," Clay said.
"I uh... sushi?" I wrinkled my nose, but
Clay's always trying to get me to step out and try stuff. So I flashed a smile,
"Ok sure, let's try it."
We got dressed. Clay let me pick out
what I wanted to wear, a first. He seemed happy with my choice of a pink
t-shirt with praying hands that said, "Kneel and pray the gay away with me." He
said it would be ok since it would be too cold to take off my baby blue hoodie.
I picked some standard jeans, not too tight for Clay's comfort and my blue
suede skater shoes. Clay chose to wear a nice banana republic ad; black sweater
over white button up with grey pants. We set off looking like a typical father
and son.
"So it's raw?" I asked, poking at the
green wrapped disc in front of me.
"It's salmon; it's supposed to be that
color, just try it." Clay urged as I sipped at my sprite showing less interest
than I'd feigned before.
I poked at it with a chopstick. Clay
knew how to work them and kept leaning over to show me how but it was hard to
get the hang of. Finally, he took his sticks and picked up a piece and brushed
it against the small plate of soy sauce he'd set in front of me. He held it to
my lips and said, "Open."
I bit half and chewed. It wasn't slimy
like I'd thought it'd be. It was salty and a little fishy, but in a good way. I
started to get in to it and even liked it. Clay seemed to like feeding me too. I
finished five pieces. For something so small and light, it's quickly filling.
"Well," Clay started as he handed the
waiter his credit card, "What should we do now?"
"Does it ever feel weird... always
paying?" I asked, thinking about how Clay had reacted about Brent buying me
lunch.
"Not in the least," Clay gave me a
weird look. "You're my boy. I don't even think about that. Besides, a cute boy
like you will go another few decades before he has to pick up a check on a
date." Clay laughed and put his hand to my cheek. "So c'mon. What does Tarrant
want to do? We have the whole evening. It's a little cold to walk around the
village and you're not properly bundled up for it."
"Could we get some alcohol?" I asked,
feeling suddenly brave.
"Uh no... You're too young to drink.
Your little brain bones are still fusing together," Clay rubbed a hand over my
hair and pulled me against his chest.
"We could go back to the coffee shop I
went to. They had a big bookshelf with all kinds of games." I looked hopefully
at Clay. He considered it and then nodded.
"All right, little sir. We can do
that," Clay left a tip and we walked a few blocks down to the Pride Roast. The
angry chunky guy was still behind the counter when we went in. He scowled at me
as Clay opened the door and pushed me inside, but he turned it quickly when he
saw Clay's stately presence fill the doorway.
"You seem to have a type," he noted to
me as Clay came up behind me at the counter.
"What does that mean?" Clay inquired
as he put a hand to my shoulder and looked over the menu.
"The guy he was with earlier could have
been your brother," the coffee guy shrugged. "That guy, actually," he pointed
to a surprised Brent, coming in the door with his workbag again.
"Hey Bryan, I'm back. My wifi is down at
home," Brent laughed and then stopped as he saw me. "Hi Tarrant... Oh this must
be your uh... hi, I'm Brent."
Clay's grip on me tightened and he
sighed noticeably, but extended a hand to Brent as he came over towards us. "Nice
to meet you." It felt really odd that for once I had met someone Clay didn't
know. He seemed to know every gay of note in this city.
"You have a really great boy there,"
Brent said. Clay pulled me back against his chest and put his arm across me a
little too tightly.
"He certainly is one of a kind," Clay
held on to my left pec and tucked his fingers into my armpit.
"Can I buy you two some coffee?" Brent
sensed the tension, responded with an awkward smile.
"Actually, it sounds like it's my
turn. I appreciate you taking care of my boy," Clay said sounding quite
territorial. He turned to Bryan who was watching the scene with rapt glee. Clay
ordered two coffees and a "gay holiday" hot chocolate for me. Bryan made it
really pretty with a cone of whipped cream sprinkled with cookie crumbs and a chocolate
covered cookie spoon.
Brent, at Clay's insincere invitation,
joined us at a large table in the corner and Clay suggested I go pick out a
game to play. I'd never had games as a kid, so I wanted to try scrabble. We set
it up and I quickly realized this wasn't a good game for me.
They tried to let me go first, but I
had no idea what to make of the 8 letters I had. I turned my letters around and
Clay suggested I make the word "fired" but Brent suggested I add the "n" an
make "friend." Clay shrugged at that. He was making an effort to be nice, but
was in obvious competition with Brent.
I hurriedly put the letters down for
Clay's suggestion, but he rolled his eyes at me, "Go with friend, it's a longer
word." He took the n off my tray and rearranged the letters for me.
Brent made Reduce out of friend and
then Clay made insider out of the n in friend. Bryan walked over to the table
(it was a slow night at the coffee house) and set down a blank pad and pride
pen. "If you're going to compete for the boy, you should at least keep score!"
he said.
"No one's competing! It's just a
friendly game. Don't be an asshat, Bryan. Get me a refill, please," Brent
glared up at the chunky coffee guy and waved him off with his empty coffee cup.
Clay handed his cup off as well and then reached over me to take the pad and
began putting our scores down.
"No sense in not following who's in
the lead," Clay smiled noting that he currently had more points.
I felt my stomach twist awkwardly and
decided to stop asking for help and showing my letters. It didn't matter
anyways as the two men commenced a war of letters. The only relief came during
my turns when they both looked over adoringly at me and feigned pride at
whatever stupid three or four letter word I came up with. I was quickly in last
place with no hope of catching up but I refused their offers of help. "I can do
it. I know English," I insisted.
"I think you're doing just fine,"
Brent said. "It's not really fair for us to play against someone so young. I'm
sure someone of your young age would prefer to play with guys his age anyways."
Clay sensed the not so hidden
undertone of Brent's comments and fired back, "He's doing just fine. He's a
very mature, smart boy who prefers a stable, experienced guy."
"Maybe he hasn't had enough variety to
know what he likes." Brent said, "But that's his business, whatever he chooses."
I reached over and took Clay's hand as
it anxiously rearranged tiles on the tray. I squeezed it and Clay looked over
from his staring contest with Brent. He stopped and smiled at me. He allowed me
to calm him and didn't keep arguing with Brent. I leaned over towards him and
put my lips to his. He reached behind me and supported my head, rubbing my
hair.
We broke the kiss and I smiled at
Brent who was looking uncomfortably. "I think we're going to head home," I
said, "Thanks for playing with us."
Brent's face fell, "I hope I see you
out and about more often. It's a big, wide world when you come down the hill."
"It is... thanks for showing me that
today." I stood up, gave Brent a hug and started to put the tiles back in the
battered scrabble box. Clay picked up the board and dumped the tiles in and
then crumpled he score sheet and tossed it in a nearby bin.
Clay put his arm around me and pushed
me towards the door. He didn't seem weird about me hugging Brent goodbye. Maybe
it was the pride of being the one to take me home, but he seemed cool about it.
We spent the rest of the night curled
up under the blanket watching home remodeling shows with my head against his
chest as he rubbed my back until I fell asleep in his warm cocoon.
Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think
mcitywriter@yahoo.com

-CJ :)
http://cjwritesfilth.blogspot.com