Warning! This is a tale about men loving men. If you find this disturbing - click off. If it's unlawful for you to read this - click off. If you under age - good luck if you can get away with it.
This is not a story for getting your rocks off. Just thought I'd let you know so you won't waste your time if that's what your looking for.
Otherwise, I hope you enjoy my writing.
I appreciate feedback and do my best to respond to it all. I may be contacted at:
Those Golden Eyes
edited by TLC (with my gratitude, JWS)
Jim, the nurse that Dave had hired to take care of Pete, wasn't due to show up for another hour and a half. Jason lay on his side. Staring at the clock and thinking about last night. To know for real that making love to Pete was a hundred times better than his imagination, had Jason reeling.
After making love they had decided to sleep together, but after Pete had rolled in his sleep hitting Jason in the chest with his cast arm, Jason had move into his room to sleep.
And now at 4:30 a.m. Jason was awake. Not being one who liked lounging in bed after waking, he slipped from between the covers and headed for the bathroom. Finished in there, he wandered into the kitchen and turned on the light. At five foot three he had to pull a chair over to the cupboard to get a glass. He'd have to rearrange the shelves with the glasses on the lowest shelf if he was really going to be living here.
On opening the fridge he discovered it had been fully stocked. He wondered if it had been Dave or Jim who had done it. Whoever, it was so cool after months of living in the dorm to just open the fridge and pour himself a cold glass of orange juice.
It was getting light outside. Jason flipped the lights off and looked out at the back yard. It looked like Dave loved to garden, for sure he loved flowers. Jason noted a rose garden and a cutting garden behind it. He loved gardening. He'd have to check it all out later.
He wandered into the living room. He studied it in the half light of the early morning. The furniture was all older but in good shape. The walls were freshly painted, they could use a couple of pictures. It would be nice to have a rug in front of the fireplace, too.
Jason sat down in the middle of the sofa and pulled his feet up into a half lotus. He cradled the glass of OJ in his lap. He thought about how the house looked from outside and figured that somewhere there was a stairwell that went up. The house had three dormers on the front with curtains on the windows. There must be at least two bedrooms up there.
Standing up he looked around the room, taking stock of the doors. Front door, cloak closet, hallway to bedrooms, kitchen. "And that one goes into the dining room." he said to himself. He walked into the short hall. There were a door on either side at the end. He knew that they were bedrooms. There were two more on the right hand wall. He opened the first one and found a linen closet. Turning to the other he discovered the stairs. Feeling more curious he padded up them in his bare feet. The landing faced the wall. Jason turned around and looked over the one big room behind him. There was a rail around the stairwell. And on each side of the landing there was a small room in each corner. He turned to look into the one on the left. It was a 3/4 bath with a large shower stall and two sinks. Opening the door to the other he found a walk-in closet.
There was a big king size bed at the far end of the room. Man, this would be perfect for him and Pete as soon as Pete regained his strength and could climb the stairs. Jason sat down on the end of the bed and daydreamed about what it was going to be like living with his lover. He shivered. The thought thrilled him.
He heard his name called. He ran to the stairs yelling out that he was coming. When he burst into Pete's bedroom he saw Pete sitting on the edge of the bed partially dressed. Jason couldn't hold back the laughter. Pete had managed to get one of the altered football jerseys over his head and his good arm into the sleeve, but it was bunched up on his back where he couldn't reach it. He'd pulled his jeans on, but his shorts were bunched up around the top and he couldn't button them up. He had a sock partially on one foot and held the other in his hand looking exasperated.
"That's right just stand there and laugh at me."
"I'm sorry, Petey, you look so like a little kid that hasn't learn to dress himself."
"You didn't think I looked like a kid last night."
Jason sauntered over to him, caressed his face.
"No, Lover, last night you were all man."
Pete wrapped his arm around Jason's waist and pulled him against him. He kissed his neck and whispered in his ear.
"When I get this cast off I'll do it right, Babe."
"Doing it right couldn't be any better than last night."
"It was wonderful wasn't it."
"I thought I'd died and gone to heaven, and you were my own personal angel."
"So why were you calling me a devil?"
Jason pushed back and looked at him.
"Because you're so devilishly good at making me feel good."
"I love doing that to you, Jase, making you feel good."
"I love you, Pete."
"You know I love you.
Jason kissed him on the end of his nose and pulled away.
"Come on, let's get you dressed."
He pulled Pete to his feet and straightened the jersey and then pinned it down his side under his encast arm. He then knelt in front of him and pulled down Pete's jeans, straighten his boxers, and then stood to pull up the jeans while stuffing the shorts smoothly into them. He could resist coddling Pete's wonderful cock and balls before stuffing them into the jean's, too. Pete drew in a sharp breath.
"You better get that thing in there fast, 'cause it won't fit in a few seconds."
Jason grinned at him as he carefully zipped him up.
Pete did as commanded and Jason knelt to put his socks on. He kissed the top of his instep and caressed the whole foot.
"Oh God, Jase stop that or you'll have to take all these clothes back off of me."
Jason grinned up at him and slipped the sock over his foot.
The door bell rang. Jason jumped up and ran to let Jim in. Pete wiggled his feet in to his tennys and walked out to the living room.
"Well, look who is up and looking chipper this morning. How did you sleep?"
"Fine." Pete said as he looked t his young lover and grinned. Jim didn't miss the look.
"Sooo. You guys finally did it, huh?" Jim grinned from one to the other. Jason bristled.
"How do you know we hadn't done it before?"
Jim's grin grew.
"Because you were both acting like a couple of uptight little virgins yesterday and today I get a feeling of relaxed emotions. Plus you both have that just fucked look."
Both young men blushed.
"See. I'm right." Jim grinned, having succeeded in embarrassing the two young men, and changed the subject. "So what shall we have for breakfast?"
While Jim whipped up a batch of French toast and sage sausage patties made with turkey, Jason set the table and poured three glasses of orange juice. Pete sat and watched him. He couldn't keep the smile off his face. Jason was so cute and animated. He was saying something about finding a big bedroom upstairs that he wanted for him and Pete to move into. Pete was only absorbing a little of what he was saying. He was mostly dreaming about undressing Jason and kissing him all over.
Jim brought him back to reality by dropping a plate of sausage and French toast on the table in front of him. Jim had cut up everything bite size so Pete wouldn't have to struggle with just one hand.
After breakfast Jason dragged Jim upstairs to show him the room. Although, Pete's strength still wasn't up to par and having been told by Jim to sit and relax, he rebelled against it and slowly climbed the stairs. He sat on the top step and looked around. Jason was dragging Jim by his hand like a little boy. The big muscleman nurse was chuckling at his excitement. Pete felt a twinge of jealousy. Jason sat on the edge of the big bed and bounced.
"Isn't this the coolest room, Jim?" He at that moment noticed his lover sitting on the top step with his head resting against the newel post. "Pete, you're supposed to be resting." He yelled running over to him.
Jim beat him there and swooped Pete up in his strong arms.
"I'm all right. Please, just put me down. I'm not a damned baby."
But by the time he had his protest out, Jim was gently laying him on the bed.
"You mind about as well as a baby. What do you mean climbing those stairs?"
"I wanted to see, too." Pushing Jim away so he could sit up which was always a chore with the heavy immobilizing cast. Jim moved but was right there helping im sit up.
"Damn this thing."
"Well, next time you'll think before running in front of a moving car." Jim said, joking. He knew instantly the way both boys reacted that it was the wrong thing to say.
"I'd do it again in a heartbeat." Pete muttered.
"Jim, you don't know what happened do you?"Jason asked.
"Just that Pete was hit by a car."
"He saved D---"
"Jason." Pete snapped.
"What? You're a hero. What are you protesting about? He saw a car barreling down on Mr. Gates and ran out and pushed him out of the way. The car Pete instead."
"Oh. That explains everything." He turned to Pete with a new respect in his eyes. "You are a hero, Dude."
Pete try to frown at him.
"I still hate this fucking cast."
"Sorry, but that's the price you pay."
"Yeah, fuck you."
"Nope. Only Jake gets to do that." Jim replied.
"Well, let me call him and tell him to do it then."
"Oh, would you, please?"
"Jim, you are incorrigible."
"Pete, did you see the big shower in the bathroom?" Jason asked to distract the other two from their bickering. "Come on and let me show you." Jason grabbed his hand pulling him to his feet.
"You know you could put my whole apartment up here and have a lot of room left over." Jim said as he looked around.
"I thought you and Jake live together." Pete said.
"Nah, we have gotten that far in our relationship."
"And you've been seeing each other how long?"
"Two and a half years."
"Wow, this is huge. You could get four guys in here easily." Pete said as he inspected the bathroom. He turned and looked at Jim. "Why are you holding back?"
"How do you know it's me?"
"Jake is so in love with you."
"How do you know that? Has he been talking to you?"
"Jim. Open your eyes. Just how many men do you know that would drop what they're doing to come running to save your ass like he did yesterday?"
Jim didn't answer. Pete and Jason watched him as he became very introspective and wandered off down the stairs. Jason stared at Pete.
"You are just so awesome. I admire you more the more I'm around you."
"I just told him what was obvious."
"To you. Not to him. And I didn't see it."
"So you want to make this room into our nest?"
"Do you like it, Pete?"
"I love it. I think it's perfect."
The boy that crouched next to the dumpster was small for his age. His hair was in dire need of washing and matted on the back side his head with dried blood. The left side of his head had a livid bruise the size of a man's hand. It was covered by his stingy hair hanging over his face until he brushed it back with a grimy hand. He'd just found half of a pizza enclosed in a box. He half smiled to himself at his good fortune, clean uncontaminated food. It was still quite fresh, but the bread hadn't had time to start drying out and getting hard. He sighed at the delicious flavor.
He moved to get more comfortable. His breath caught with the sharp paralyzing pain in his side. He froze for a moment until it subsided, and then took another bite of the delicious pizza.
It had been three days since he'd run away from home. A lot had happened to him since then. He thought about how he'd gotten the bruises all over his body. The man had seemed so nice and had offered him fifty dollars to go with him. Hank had been hungry and cold. He went not knowing what he was in for.
He'd been taken to a nice house in a neighborhood much like where he'd lived with his parent's. Once inside the man stopped being nice. He'd taken hank into a bedroom and instructed to strip and then left the boy.
Hank wondered what ha should do. He didn't want to take his clothes off. Wandering around the room he saw an envelope with the man's name and address on it. Not thinking of what or why, he folded it and stuck it in his back pocket.
When he returned seeing Hank still clothed, big man had slapped him on the side of his face, hard enough to knock him across the room. He then had proceeded to kick and pummel the boy until he passed out.
Hank had awaken stiff and very sore in a dumpster much like the one he was now crouched beside. The man had thought he wouldn't wake up again. Hank hurt so bad at first he'd wished that he was dead. Finally, getting the strength to pull himself up over the side. He'd collapsed to the ground and just lay there a long time. He'd eventually gotten to his feet and wandered around wondering how his life could get any worse. At least he'd still had his clothes on.
That night and the next he slept huddled in a card board box covering himself with old news papers. Some how he'd found the University campus and got his bearings. He wasn't but about ten blocks from where he used to call home.
He'd always had a close relationship with his Dad. All of his life his dad had taken him with him everywhere he went except too work. His dad had always been so proud of him. And then he walked in on him and his best friend. They'd had their pants down around their knees sitting side by side on Hank's bed watching each other jack off. Hank hadn't even thought about touching Jimmy.
Hank could still see the look of horror in his dad's face, and then the anger. Never had he seen his dad like that. His dad had never really gotten angry at him that he could remember. It scared him.
The boys had both jumped up pulling up their pants. His friend had slipped by the angry man and ran out of the house.
The words that his dad had called him still rang in his ears. Half of them he didn't even know the meaning of. But the way he'd said them left no doubt in Hank's mind that he was a a total disappointment to his dad. He'd stormed out of the room telling him to stay in his room until he said he could come out.
Later, he had awaken to hear his mother yelling at his Dad. He couldn't hear the words, but he could hear the anger. He supposed that the anger was directed at him. He sat down at his desk and wrote a note apologizing for being a such a disappointment to them , and that he was leaving so they wouldn't be disappointed in him again. He pulled on a windbreaker , opened his window and crawled out.
He had no idea of where he could go. He wandered down the street with tears in his eyes. He still couldn't figure out what he'd done to make his dad so angry. His friend had told him that his older brother said that all boys jacked off together, that it was natural, but it must have been a lie the way his dad had reacted.
Hours later he had no idea where he was. He'd not paid any attention to where he was going. It was getting cold. It had to be way past midnight. That was when the big shiny car had pulled up next to him and the man had offered him the fifty dollars.
Now three days later he was feeling fortunate. He'd found the half eaten pizza. The sun was shining and the day was warm. He huddle in the corner of the dumpster bin enjoying the nice day and the food.
Dave pulled his Lexus into the parking lot of Gio Gio's. He'd called Joe to see if he wanted to meet there for lunch, but he was involved with the business tower downtown and couldn't get away. Dave had stopped at the bookstore to see if he could take Sue out to lunch only to discover she had a luncheon date with Paul, Johnny's detective partner. He thought about going back to the Eyrie and just having a sandwich, and then opted for a plate of Gio's pasta. Gio had a way of always cheering him up anyway.
As he got out of his car he noticed a boy squatting beside the dumpster eating what looked like a piece of pizza. He couldn't have been any older that Max. He looked like he hadn't had a bath or a change of clothes for several days. Even at a distance Dave could see that the boy had a large bruise on the side of his face. Dave's heart ached at the thought of what had brought the boy to these circumstances.
He circled around his car and approached the dumpster enclosure from an angle so that the boy wouldn't see him. He stepped around the open gate and spoke quietly to the boy.
"Hi there. My name is Dave."
The boy scooted back into the corner. His greasy black hair hung in his face, a stark contrast to his pale skin. His long black lashes made his frightened deep blue eyes stand out. He looked to be no more than eleven or twelve. Even then Dave thought he was small for his age. He'd dropped the pizza crust and was crouched ready to make a run for it. Dave squatted on his heels blocking the exit.
"You're hungry, aren't you?"
The boy eyed him. He moved to stand up, caught his breath and grabbed his side.
"Would you let me buy you a big plate of spaghetti and meatballs? Gio here makes the best you ever tasted. It's got to be better than that cold pizza."
Dave wasn't sure that the boy had nodded.
"What's you name? I'm Dave."
He held out his hand to the boy. He studied Dave's face a moment. There was something about the man that made him want to trust him. And he was taking him into a public place. That should be safe. The boy looked at Dave's hand and then his own. He wiped his hand on his pants and stuck it out toward Dave.
"My name is Henry, but every one calls me Hank. I'm sorry my hand isn't clean."
"That can easily be rectified." Said Dave taking his hand. "Let's go inside and you can wash up before we eat."
Dave stood up. Hank stared at his hand in Dave's and then up at his face. Dave smiled.
"It's okay. I won't hurt you."
Hank pulled his hand from Dave's. His eyes darted back up to Dave's face again. Dave smiled again.
"Well, let's go eat, Hank. I'm hungry."
Hank reached out and clasped Dave's fingers. He looked at Dave to see if it was okay. When Dave smiled at him he smiled back and let Dave lead him to the front of the building.
When Dave entered the restaurant with Hank holding his hand he noticed that the tables on the left side of the room had been lined up to make one long one which was occupied by eleven well-dressed matronly women. The woman facing him, at the head of the long table, had a look of extreme distaste as she scanned Dave who was dressed in his usual plaid flannel shirt, Levi 501s and cowboy boots, and little Hank in his filthy clothes and unwashed face and hands and stringy hair. The other ten women noting the look on their leaders face craned their necks to see what was causing the expression. The distaste echoed on their faces. Dave moved in front of the boy. Hank didn't need to see the disapproval they showed.
They noted their leader look aghast as the Maitre d' smiled warmly and shook Dave's hand and then motioned him and the boy to the reserved owner's table. The women in turn looked horrified. Dave made a point of sitting so Hank would sit facing away from the them. Dave said something to the Maitre d'. The women looked disgusted as the Maitre d' took Hank's hand and led him to the Men's room. He went into the kitchen and returned with a stack of small white towels which he delivered to Hank.
When he came out of the toilet the leader of the women motioned for him. He walked over to her.
"Yes, Mrs. Gripton, what may I do for you?"
"How can you let that man bring filthy that little ragamuffin into this restaurant." she asked in a loud stage whisper.
"I'm sorry, Madam, but the man is Gio's cousin and part owner of the restaurant. I cannot keep him nor his guests out."
Mrs. Gripton dismissed him with a wave of her fingers and a firm "Humph."
With a resigned martyr's sigh she turn to her sycophant sisters.
"I suppose I should go speak to the man myself."
They all looked at her with expectation.
She rose, playing her role to it fullest. She walked over to Dave. She cleared her throat.
"I am Mrs. Gripton. President of the Ladies Philanthropic Society of University City." She announced, looking down at Dave. She didn't offer her hand.
Dave stood up and nodded to her.
"Good Afternoon, Mrs. Gripton. I am Dave Gates."
The name disturbed her. She'd heard it somewhere. She'd have to research it later.
"Mr. Gates. This is a very nice restaurant. Don't you think it rather in poor taste to bring filthy little street urchins into it? I mean we have chosen this restaurant over any number of others in which to conduct our meetings. Really you could have just taken him around to the back door or down the street and fed him a hamburger."
Dave had never heard the word 'hamburger' sound like a nasty word before. He closed his eyes searching for composure. He opened them, looking at the haughty harridan.
"Mrs. Gripton. I assume you claim to be a Christian."
"Of course, I am. I am a devout member of St. Sebastian's.
"Of course, you are." She missed the condescension in his voice. "And you follow the teachings of Christ, too. Don't you?"
"Well- of course. That is what Christians do."
"You comfort the ill, feed the hungry, house the homeless."
"Of course. We support organizations all over the city that do just that. That is what our Society is all about. Donating money to these organizations to help these poor unfortunates."
"And that is nice as long as you don't personally have to get involved with them."
"Why on earth would I want to do that?"
"Jesus told us to love all others as we love ourselves. Does that mean, Madam, that you despise yourself as much as you despise this helpless child?"
"Humph, there is obviously no reasoning with you, Mr. Gates. We will just have to find some other restaurant in which to hold our meetings."
"Please, do that. I personally will compensate Gio double for whatever loss he will incur by your leaving."
Mrs. Gripton stomped back to the table of indignant ladies. "Well, ladies, it looks like we must postpone this meeting until we find another restaurant in which we can peacefully conduct one without being interrupted by such riffraff."
Dave was reminded of a bunch of squawking hens as they responded to the pronouncement. At that moment Gio came out of the kitchen. The Maitre' d had informed him of what was going on.
"Mrs. Gripton, Ladies, Jeffery informs me that you object to me feeding a poor homeless little child in my restaurant. Could that be true? I thought you were philanthropists, good Christian women."
"We are, but we don't have to associate with those we help."
The women were all nodding their heads in agreement.
"Oh I see."
At that moment Hank made his appearance out of the restroom. He was wearing a clean white t-shirt several sizes to big for him. His face and hands were shiny clean, and his hair was neatly combed. Without the dirt to hide it, the livid yellow and purple bruise on the side of his face stood out even more. The women ignored it. Gio gasped when he saw it. In that moment he made a decision. "Ladies, I wish you to remember this face. His name is Hank, I am told." Gio said, taking the boy's hand and leading him over to the ladies table. "Don't forget it. He shall be your nemesis."
"What ever do you mean, Mr. Paolini?"
"You shall soon see, Ladies. Now if you will please leave my restaurant, my busboy needs to clean up the mess you've made. You need not worry about paying for the food that you have consumed. Just go."
Amidst many "How dare he?"s and "Well, I never!"s the women hustled out of the restaurant. Gio led Hank back to the table where Dave sat grinning at them.
"Those ladies shall learn the hard way what Christian charity is really about. By tomorrow there won't be a restaurant in town that will host them."
"What do you plan on doing, Gio?"
"You just wait and see."
"Mr. Gio, I didn't mean to cause any trouble. Maybe I should just go. I'm not worth the trouble."
Hank had slipped out of the chair and was headed to the door. Gio swept the boy into his arms and sat back down at the table. The boy blanched as he whimpered in pain.
"Have you been hurt?" Gio asked.
"It's- it's nothing."
"Don't tell Uncle Gio it's nothing. Let me see."
He started lifting the boy's t-shirt. Hank tried to hold it down, but Gio firmly took the fold of material out of his hands and exposed his torso. Both men gasped when they saw the livid bruises on his ribs.
"Who did this to you?"
Hank was weeping. He shook his head.
"Please, I'm not worth the trouble. Just let me go."
Dave had slipped out of his chair and was kneeling next to Hank sitting on Gio's lap. He placed a hand on the boy's chest.
"Hank, I will tell you if you are causing any trouble. Those awful ladies are a lot more bother than you could ever be. And who told you that you are not worth the trouble?"
Hank dropped his head to his chest. Tears ran down his cheeks.
"Now why don't I believe that?" He slipped his hand under Hank's chin lifting it to where their eyes met. "Who is the nobody that told you that ?"
"My daddy." He whispered.
"My God how could a man do this to his son?" Gio muttered under his breath.
"Hank, did your father beat you? Is he the one that gave you these ugly bruises?"
Hank hung his head and whispered.
"No, it wasn't my daddy that beat me."
"Can you tell me who did it?"
"I'd rather not talk about it."
"Hank, as soon as you eat we are going to have a doctor look at you. Are you okay with that?"
Hank stared at Dave and then slowly nodded. At that moment a waiter brought a plate of spaghetti with two big meatballs on top it and placed it on the table Hank scrambled off of Gio's lap and climbed onto the chair in front of the plate. It was obvious that the boy was in pain the way he moved. He looked at the plate of food and then at Dave and Gio.
"You're most welcome, Hank."
"And there a whole lot more in the kitchen if you want it. Would you like a big glass of cold milk?"
Hank nodded as he stuffed his mouth full of long strands of spaghetti covered in thick red sauce. He suctioned the loose strands into his mouth getting the sauce all over his face. He wiped it with his napkin and forked another big bite.
"Umm. This is so good." He then slurped it into his mouth and grinned as he wiped his face again.
Dave and Gio just sat there grinning back at him as he ate. Suddenly, Gio looked at Dave.
"Don't you want something to eat, too?"
Dave looked surprised.
"I guess I forgot about being hungry. How about just a meatball sandwich."
"Coming right up."
Gio got up and personally fixed the sandwich for Dave. when he sat the plate in front of him he waited for Dave to take a bite. Dave closed his eyes and savored the wonderful flavors that had invaded his taste buds.
"Mmm mmm. That is so good. Do you liked it, Hank?"
He was surprised to see that the boy was slurping the last strands into his mouth and at the same time gathering all the sauce left on the plate with his spoon. He grinned up at Dave and then Gio. He swallowed the sauce and sighed.
"So much better than Franco's where my dad and mom go."
"Looks like we have a budding gourmet on our hands." Dave said to Gio. Gio just beamed at Dave and the boy.
As Hank downed the last of the cold milk Gio lifted a camera that he had palmed, and snapped a close up of Hank.He winked at him and smiled. Joe (should be Dave) took out his cell phone and auto dialed his doctor's personal phone.
"Blair, this is Dave Gate's." He went on to explain about finding Hank and was told to bring him immediately to the hospital emergency room. He would meet them there.
Dr. Carver lifted Hank onto a gurney and asked him to lay down. A nurse took over undressing him explaining what she was doing and why, while the doctor spoke to Dave.
When she had Hank down to his underwear she covered him with a light blanket. She turned and picked up a clip board and pen.
"Now, young man, my name is Anne and I need to know your name and how old you are. Will you tell me that?"
Hank looked at her with big suspicious eyes.
"We need to know so that we don't lose you in this great big hospital."
"So, what is you name?"
"Henry Hartley, but everyone calls me Hank."
"That's a nice manly name. How old are you, Hank?"
And when is your birthday?"
"Oct 14th, 1993
"And what is your home address, Hank?"
Tears welled in his eyes as he stared at the ceiling.
"I don't have one any more."
"Can you tell me your parents address?"
"I don't have any parents any more." His voice was void of emotion.
"Are they dead, Hank?" Her voice had softened.
"As far as they are concerned I'm the one that's dead."
As many years as she had work as a nurse this kind of thing always got to her. How could parents just cut their own children out of their lives. It was obvious it was painful for Hank to talk about them. CPS could get the information from the school. She could at least get that much out of him without causing him more anguish she thought.
"Where do you go to school?"
"I was going to Columbia High School."
"Why are you not still going?"
Hank rolled on to his side and raised up, wincing at the pain he supported himself on his elbow. The deep seated hurt, anger, and frustration boiled out of him."
"How can I go to school like this? I haven't had a bath in days. My clothes are filthy. I stink."
Hearing Hank yelling, the doctor and Dave hurried over to see what the matter was. Hank collapsed back on to the table.
"That's alright, Ann. We'll let CPS get the rest of the information. Get a urine and blood sample and then we'll take Hank to X-ray. Dave here will be covering all the costs" He turned to Hank. He smiled as he brushed the hair from his face. "Hank, I'm going to examine you to see if there is anything that needs our help in your healing."
Hank nodded and let the doctor probe and poke. He was stoic, only wincing a bit until he touched the dark purple and yellow bruise on his side. He whimpered and scrunched his face at the pain.
"I think you have a broken rib here, Son. Can you tell me how it happened?"
"A man kicked me."
The doctor winced as he imagined how hard the kick had to have been to break a rib. His blood boiled in anger that a grown man could do this to a child.
"I'm sorry, Hank. We'll get an X-ray to make sure it is broken."
He ran his fingers over the rib. There was a definite indentation. One end of the break was sticking inward. How the boy could stand the pain of just breathing was beyond his comprehension. He was sure even without the X-ray that they would have to surgically set the rib.
The doctor went to a cabinet and took out a Polaroid camera.
"Hank, I have to take pictures of all your bruises for the records. Let me help you sit up."
After the photos were taken Anne took the blood and urine samples, and then pushed the mobile table down to the X-ray department.
When the X-ray tech was finished he was wheeled back to the cubicle to await the results. Dave stood by his side not knowing what to say except to assure him that everything would be okay.
It wasn't ten minutes before the doctor returned with the X-ray films in hand. He clipped them onto the light box and showed Hank and Dave what he was seeing.
"There are two bone splinters floating here and here. So far they have not caused any damage. But they must be removed and the rib has to be stapled together. So what we're going to do Hank is send you up to a room and let you get a bath. I want you to have help doing that so that you don't move those splinters around, so a nurse will wash you hair and bathe you. I want you just to stand still and let him do all the work. Okay?"
Hank flushed at the thought of a man washing his body. He just knew he'd get embarrassed by it. But still that would be better than a female nurse doing it. He nodded his agreement.
An hour later Hank lay in hospital bed feeling so much better just being clean again. Dave walked into his room smiling at him. He was overcome at how small Hank looked laying there. Again he wondered how a grow man could inflict physical abuse on such a beautiful child.
"Hi, Hank, are you feeling better?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Do you feel like talking."
Hank closed his eyes and sighed. He finally nodded.
"There's a policeman and nice man from Child Protection Services that need you to tell them what happened. Will you do that?"
Hank stared at Dave giving no answer. Dave sat down on the edge of his bed, brushed the black strands of still damp hair out of his face.
"I'll stay with you if you want."
Without hesitation Hank answered.
"Then I will talk to them."
After introductions were made Hank told his story.
"Hank, do you have any idea of where the man took you? The house he took you to?" Officer Connelly asked.
"Yes, sir. I don't know why I did it. But there was an empty envelope laying on the coffee table. The man left the room for a moment and I put it into my pocket. It's still in my jeans, where ever they are."
The policeman left the room to find the boy's clothes and to recover the envelope.
"Hank, I'm Gordon Jones. I'm here to make sure that you are protected. Your parents have been notified that you've been found. They are on their way here now. But before they can see you I want to be sure of a couple of things. First. Hank, did your father touch you at all while he was yelling at you? Did he hit or slap you?"
"No, sir. He just yelled at me. He has never even spanked me."
"Okay. Did you get kicked out or did you leave on you own."
"I told you. I left on my own. I couldn't stand being a disappointment to my Dad. I thought if I left then I wouldn't be one anymore. And when I heard my mom yelling I figured my dad had told her and she was disappointed in me, too."
"Do you want to see your parents, now?"
"Do you think they want to see me?"
"Hank, I know they want nothing more in the world. They have been frantic ever since they discovered you missing from your room."
Hank started shaking as he cried.
"Yes' I want to see them."
"Mr. Jones, I am Dave Gates. I found the boy and brought him here. May I say something to Mr. and Mrs. Hartley before they see Hank."
Gordon Jones looked at him as if noticing him for the first time. He looked at Hank.
"Is that okay with you?"
Hank nodded. Dave stepped out of the room .
There was a man and woman standing beside the door clutching each other. They were haggard, looking like they hadn't slept in days.
"Mr. and Mrs. Hartley?"
"I'm David Gates, I found Hank. I wish to say something to you before you go in to see your son. Let's find a place to sit."
When they were seated Dave started talking.
"I know you love your son. You hurt him very badly, Mr Hartley. More than if you had beat him. He's very fragile right now.
"I know. Never in his whole life have I ever yelled at him before. It was as if it wasn't really me yelling at him. I felt like my dad had taken over my body."
Dave studied him a moment.
"And if Hank turns out to be gay, how are you going to react to that?" "Mr. Gates, I love my son. No matter what he grows up to be, he will still be my son. I don't know how I'll ever make it up to him, hurting him like I did."
"Let Hank lead the way. I'm sure that he can show you how to heal both himself and you."
"Thank you, for you caring, sir."
"Call me Dave. And your welcome."
"My name is Hank. And this is my wife Linda."
"Did anyone tell you the condition he is in or what happened to him?"
"We're still waiting to see the doctor. I understand that someone beat him?"
"That is an understatement, Hank. He was beaten and thrown into a dumpster and left for dead."
Linda collapsed against her husband.
"I'm sorry, but you should be prepared, Hank has some pretty ugly bruises. I'll let the doctor tell you the rest.
Dave stepped back and opened the door. Hank's mother and father rushed into the room. His mother stopped and looked at him and then gathered him into her arms.
"Oh my baby. What happened to you?"
Hank clung to her as he cried. When they finally calmed down his mother let go of him.
"You dad needs to say something to you."
Hank looked up at his dad. Dave could see the fear in his eyes. He looked up at Hank's father and saw remorse and sadness.
"I am so so sorry son. I don't know what came over me. I just hope you can forgive me and learn to trust me again."
Dave stood beside Gordon Jones watching the reunion. The social worker leaned toward him and whispered.
"If you ever need a job come see me. I'd hire you on the spot."
"Thanks, Gordon. That's reassuring." Dave grinned at the man.
Joe nuzzled the side of Dave's neck sending sparks to his brain and opening the flood channels rushing blood into his cock.
"So what did you do for excitement today?"
"I can't talk right now. Don't stop." Dave stretched his neck to the side giving Joe easier access to it. "Oh, man that drives me crazy."
"For a forty something you're as horny as a teenager. That was just a hello greeting."
"Hi, Joe. I'll race you to the bed."
"Damn, Dave. Slow up. I just barely got through the door."
"I'm just playing with you, Babe. Would you like a drink to relax? Dinner is almost ready."
"Yeah, a Dewars would be great."
"Fine. Go get out of those clothes and I'll bring it to you."
Dave walked into the bedroom with two tinkling glasses of amber liquor. Joe had just pulled his slacks off and was standing in the closet folding and hanging them. Dave walked up behind him and planted a wet kiss in the middle of his back. Joe arched back against him as he hung the slacks on the rack. Dave's arms snaked around his waist and Joe took the two glasses allowing Dave to run his chilled hands up and down the front of his torso.
Joe twisted in his arms and kissed him, a slow all invasive kiss. As he pulled away Dave took his own drink giving Joe a free hand to caress him with. It went down Dave's back cupping his cheek and pulled him up against him.
"Dinner is on hold. But it would taste best if we ate it now and continued this later."
"Dinner it is. I only had a quick sandwich for lunch."
Dave backed away to let Joe get some clothes on. He never tired of looking at his lover. He was the epitome of his mental image of the perfect man.
Dave caressed his broad shoulders with his eyes letting them trail down his hairy chest, letting them rest a moment on his red-brown nipples peeking through the fine blonde hair and on down his hard stomach muscles to the thick thatch of fine black hair above his cock. Dave's eyes engulf the beautiful uncut tube of flesh and the wondrous full ball sac beneath them.
Taking a swallow of his scotch, he worshiped Joe's long muscular legs. He marveled again on how Joe's sides and back were smooth and hairless, yet the rest of him was cover in hair. Straight, fine blonde hair.
"So tell me about your day, Babe." Joe said slipping into his favorite cut off sweat pants. "What did you do?"
"Oh, not a lot."
"Where did you end up having lunch?"
"With anyone?" Joe was slipping a t-shirt over his head.
"Yeah, I found a young boy eating pizza scraps out of the dumpster and treated him to a plate of spaghetti and meat balls."
Joe pushed his head through the neck of the T-shirt and stopped to look at Dave. Dave was doing his best to act like the whole incident filled him with ennui. It didn't fool Joe for a minute. There was no way Dave could hide the twinkle in his eyes.
"Okay, and then what did you do?"
"Well, Hank, that's the boy's name, had this big ugly bruise on the side of his face and he winced every time he moved, so I took him over to see Doc Blair. He should be out of the operating room soon." Dave set his drink on the bedside table and sat down on the bed.
"Hank or Blair?"
"Well, both, of course."
"Dave you are about thirty seconds from being attacked."
Dave shrugged and looked hopeful.
"Dinner's on hold."
Joe stood over him trying to look grim, but no succeeding.
"You wish. I'm going to go eat."
He turned and headed for the kitchen.
"Aahh," Dave whined, "Joe you're not being any fun."
He jumped up and headed after Joe.
"You want fun? Feed me and then I'll turn you every which way but loose. What did you cook, anyway?"
"Tuna Casserole." Dave said still feeling ornery.
"Yech! How do you make it smell so good?"
"I followed your mother's recipe."
"She has never put tuna in a casserole."
"I thought it was kinda strange. It called for Italian sausage instead. And tomato sauce and this stuff that looks like strained cottage cheese."
Joe stopped and turned around. Dave ran into him and Joe wrapped him in a big bearhug.
"You are a moron. But I guess I'll keep you as long as you can follow my mother's recipes."
Dave beamed up at him.
"Really? I'm pretty good at following recipe instructions."
"Like I said. Moron."
Joe kissed him. The kiss became involved. His stomach growled, Joe pushed back grinning.
"I guess I had better feed you, Huh?" Dave said.
Ten minutes later they sat down to a beautiful dish of Lasagna and a tossed salad. A carafe of the wonderful Chianti that Gio was importing set at Joe's elbow.
"So finish telling me about Hank."
Dave told him about the afternoon between mouthfuls of the delicious food, ending with Hank being wheeled into surgery.
"So how did you have time to fix Lasagna?"
Dave grinned and shook his head in disbelief.
"I can't believe that you don't recognize you own mother's cooking. She sent this over with Johnny."
"Well," Joe wheedled. "You said it was her recipe. If you do good things to me I won't tell her you were trying to pass this off as your own."
"That's black mail."