Date: Thu, 21 Oct 2004 05:29:59 -0400 (EDT) From: Blue OConnor Subject: Perfect 2-3 This Story contains homosexual themes. If you are offended by such topics or not of legal age to read such stories, please read no further. All the characters in the story are fictitious, any resemblance to actual individuals are purely coincidental. Sorry it took me so long to write but my computer has been down and I'm writing from school computers. For those who sent positive feedback for this story, thanks. If you asked any questions I'm sorry I didn't write back, I couldn't access my other email. Email me again at the new site. I have also received some really discouraging emails from bitches and would like to just say, "fuck you, if you can do better do it. I'm human and make mistakes, don't rub my face in it." Comments are still welcome at my new email at ladylovey4@yahoo.com I have changed my writing style from third person to first, because I found it to be more affective, hope it's not too annoying, Now Enjoy. Perfect ~ Chapter 2 ~ Flashback Gabriel's POV The sound of whimpering snapped a 10 year old Gabriel from his slumber. Quietly I crept out of bed to check out where the sound was coming from. It was Connor again, every night for 3 months he would wake up the whole house with his wailing but that hadn't happened for almost 6 months. The whimpers became louder as Gabriel debated whether or not to tell Connor's dad or go comfort him himself. Not wanting to wake my mom, she's has been really testy lately, I nervously opened the door. The boy in the bed was curled up into a ball; his small body shook with his silent sobs. "Mommy, Mommy, I want my Mommy." The hopelessness in the boy's voice made me cringe. "Shhh, shhh, It's ok," I cooed quietly, walking over to reassure him. "Where's my mommy, I want my mommy?" the boy cried out, his compact 6-year-old body thrashing now. "Your mommy's gone now Connor," I said while stroking his hair gently. "Mommy, Mommy," he sobbed. His voice getting louder. Afraid he was going to wake everyone up, I climbed into bed with him, hoping my presence would comfort Connor a little. I pulled the small quivering body towards me, then slowly began to rub his arm. Without warning the boy flung himself at me, cover my body with his. He shifted his head against my chest as if trying to find the perfect spot for his head, finally he tucked his head under my chin, sniffled, sighed and went back to sleep. I lay there tense for a few minutes, then slowly, trying not to wake him I begin to pull myself from under him. Sleepily Connor lifted his head and looked down at me. He smiled drowsily at me then brought his hand to my face to stroke my cheek softly. "Sleep Now," he said groggily, his voice hoarse from crying. He then tucked his head back in its chosen place and went back to sleep. That night was night I fell in love with him. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Chapter 3 ~ Present Day - Gabriel's POV I hadn't seen Connor McNeil seen I was 12 years old. I remembered someone saying he had cried the day he left. Funny, the little details you hung on to from certain days of your life. I myself hadn't seen him that day because I had hide in our tree house, not wanting to watch him walk out of my life. I'd thought by not making a scene and letting go so readily of the one person who meant everything to me, my mom let me stay with her. She sent me back to private school the next day. All my life I have been called a loner. From the day my dad died when I was 4, was last time I remember anyone actually showing me true affection. My mom seemed to transform over night from a loving wife to this free-floating sex kitten. Every night there was a new man, drugs, drinking, and sex. I remember the night she locked me in the basement. I woke up to find a man staring at me while slept, I had screamed jumped out of bed and run downstairs, only to find her spread eagle naked, in an orgy. She'd gotten infuriated because her "friends" had been interrupted, so she smacked me on the head and threw me down stairs. I pounded my fists on the door, crying that I would good but she never came to let me out till the next day. That night curled up on a ratty old couch I realized that I was on my own. Connor was the first person I let myself get close to and because of my mom and her blackmail, I had to let him go, until now. Four years ago, after cutting off all ties with my mother, I made the moved to Toronto in the search of him. I found his father and though, I wanted to contact him I didn't because I had nothing to offer. So I set out to make myself a success, opening up my own painting company with my trust fund money my dad left me. Finally after years of hard work, I knew was ready. For the past six months however I've known where he lived but never once had I made a move to talk to him. On more than one occasion I found myself at his apartment building gazing up into his window like a lovesick puppy. Call it cowardice but I was scared shitless, after all these years of dreaming and remembering the feeling of completeness and strength this guy provided me with, I was terrified to be let down. This changed the day I received the phone call. "My name is Connor McNeil," the voice had said. I had sat there frozen, not knowing what to say or to do. "Huh, what can I do for you Mr. McNeil?" "I would like to hire your company to paint my condo." "Ok, I will come by 12pm on Monday to talk things over with you and take a look at the space." I said, trying not to be nervous. "Sounds great." He replied. So here I was leaning against the elevator wall, drumming my fingers against the marble, trying to calm my nerves. This was just another job, I told myself, so what if my stomach suddenly felt twisted up inside. It was not like Connor was going to recognize me; I had changed a lot since my day's rebellion. Gone were the close-cropped hair, skinny toothpick body, and torn jeans. Upon arriving at his floor, I ran the doorbell, no movements sound on the other side of the doors however. Well, I thought, I hope he was awake. I knew he was still in school and probably slept in late on his days off but I had no intention of waiting for anyone. My impatience grew as I punched the button again, footsteps sounding, making my heartbeat jump. The doors ripped open, exasperation flashing in velvet brown eyes. "Dammit Hunter...OH," his voice trailed off. Hunter? Who was Hunter? My mind questioned. Was it his boyfriend? I knew he was gay but I no one told me about boyfriend. Not knowing what to say I stared down at my clipboard. The conversation continued with me sounding harsh but I couldn't help it, I was angry and jealous. Irrational, I know, but I was never a rational person. Finally I took a peak at him from the corner of my eye and froze. Damn, he'd really grown up. Which I'd known, of course, would happen but there was growing up and then there was growing up. Connor had done it right. I'd come here half expecting a stiff preppy snob, which was what I'd gotten, but I hadn't expected him to impossibly gorgeous. Oh sure, I'd expected cute -- rich people always had a way of managing that-- but I hoped he wouldn't have this affect on me. This burning desire, that made my cock get hard and my brain turn to mush. Honey brown curls was cut short to soften his chiseled features, that was undeniably sexy even in anger. His long beautifully formed six-foot body looked hard defined in the small pair of black briefs he wearing. His chest was dust lightly with soft brown hair ending at a line from is belly button to the generous pouch where his cock was held. Mom used to say that Connor looked like he was born in his tennis whites, and it was true. He had an air of causal belonging that was as natural to him as breathing. But then, why shouldn't he? He did belong, he always had. It was I who had been the outsider. I knew the moment he recognized me; he eyes glazed over and flashed with shock then he whispered. "Gabriel" He remembered my name, I yelled happily to myself. "Hello Connor." "What are you doing here?" he whispered again. "I own Mosaic Paints, we talked on the phone remember." I said hesitantly, not knowing how he would react. "Yeah, but I-I, that is you're huh, you're here," he said as if puzzled. "Yes," I said slightly amused. "Will you excuse me for a few minutes." He said trying to gain his composure. "Alright" "Have a seat." He threw over his shoulder as he turned to walk upstairs. Oh My, Oh My, he had a nice ass--round, muscular and just the right size that would fit my hands. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Connor's POV "This is not happening," I whispered to myself. He wasn't here, he's just a figment of my deluded imaginations. Any minute now I'm going to wake up a laugh at my freaky dream, any minute. Pacing back and forth in my room I tried my best to not hyperventilate until I caught a glimpse at myself in the mirror. "Fuck!" I had stood there in front of him in my underwear and he hadn't said a thing. Grabbing a pair of blue and brown T-shirt off the floor, I pulled it on. After all these years without a word, he shows up out of the blue. Why? What did he want? I asked myself. Could it be money? Well if that was it he wasn't getting any, he and his mother has taken enough from my dad. My temper started to boil at the thought of his mother the vindictive way she had treated my father. How dare he? How dare he show up here knowing everything we have been through? Marching downstairs I made my face into a cold mask, not wanting him to see how enraged I was. He was standing by the window gazing out, with a wistful look on his face, as he heardme arrive his expression went from excited to guarded. "When I made the appointment I had no idea it was you." I said, my tone flat. "I know." He said tentatively. "Why are you here?" "To paint your--" "Cut the bullshit," I said peremptorily. "Why are you really here?" He met my angry gaze head-on. "Excuse me? You hired me?" "I don't want to be within five miles of you." He looked down but not before I saw the hurt flash within his eyes. "Look, I don't know what your problem is but I was hired to do a job, so lets get this over with." His voice was now devoid of any emotion. "Oh no, I don't know what kind of scheme your bitch mother put you to but It's not going to work." I spat. "What the fuck are you talking about?" "Is it money? Did she finally run out of what she stole from my dad?" I said, walking up to him to look him in eye. "Jesus, is that what you really think of me?" his whisper was barely audible. "Well?" I said, not buying his act. "Not that it is any of your business but I haven't spoken to my mom in years." He said. "Yeah right, if it's not that what is it? Why would you come here know it's me unless you wanted something?" I asked. "I thought that I should let you know I was in the city." He said softly. "Why? So we can get together and reminisce." I laughed harshly, letting my angry at his mother fuel me. "It's not like we have anything in common." I sneered. "My mom was a sweet lady, yours is a high price whore. She is trash and always will be and I don't go slumming." Pointedly I looked at him, knowing full well what I was insinuating. He stood there gazing down at me as if I was monster he'd never seen before. "You were always a snob, I just never knew how very ugly that made you until now." His voice never rose. "Better a snob, than trailer trash." "You don't have to worry about me coming after your money I would rather sit in shit than every ask you to wipe my ass." His said harshly. "Thank you" "For what?" I said sarcastically. "For finally clearing any lingering doubts I had about you." He stated. "You sit here in your high priced home, paid for with money you have never earned but feel it necessary to talk down to anyone who isn't as fortunate. You're the most despicable kind of human being." His words hurt me for some reason and I was left speechless as he walked into the elevator and the doors closed behind him. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Gabriel's POV I made it to my van feeling numb. My body and mind seemed to be in shock. My heart was hurting. Breathing erratically I tried not to cry. With trembling hand I tried to start the car only to have the keys slip out of my hand. Oh God I hurt, I though to my self, I hurt. Never I could have comprehended the hate that flashed in his eyes. What did I expect? For him to run into my arms? I always knew deep down what my mother said had been true but today I finally knew. No one would ever love me. To be continued... Questions? Comments? Suggestions?