Comedy of Errors

Chapter 3


Written By: Justin Case

Edited By: Wayne


April 14, 2001


Disclaimer: The story you are about to read contains sexual material described in a graphic manner, if it is illegal for you to view this material please exit this site now. Otherwise, come along for ride, I will take you places that only exist in fantasy, but should exist in reality. This tale is about gay love, yes, that's right, sex between two members of the same gender. If you find that offensive; why are you here in the first place? This story is completely fiction, any similarities to actual people, places, or events is strictly coincidental. The author, the editor and the web site publisher accept no responsibility for the actions of the reader. This work is copyrighted in accordance with the United States of America laws, no copies are allowed without the sole permission of the author. Justin Case is a registered trademark. C-2001-


SoapBox: Hello my dawgs, how's it going?? The mail has been slow on this one; I've had some response, but not what I am used to. If you like it please be sure to let me know. I only post this tale here, on my personal web pages, for my faithful readers. I want you to welcome Wayne, my temporary final copy editor. He will be with us for a few weeks, he reports he is a fan of Andrew's Story.

I've had another busy week, what with, Church and Easter and all those things. I have prayed for all of you! I have prayed to God, to humble my lips so, my words will be received, in the manner in which I mean them. It is truly an honor to grace your presence with my work. I hope I never fail you!


As the clock got closer to seven, I became bundle of nerves. I paced my bedroom floor and kept checking out my window to see if I could see Danny, my newfound Puerto Rican neighbor, approaching our house. I also, kept a steadfast watch for my parent's arrival as well.

I heard the chirping, of my portable phone, as I was glued to the window, watching down at our driveway. `Shit,' I thought to myself. I didn't want to give up looking out the window, but at the same time I just had to answer my phone. I got up from the cushioned window seat and crossed my bedroom to the telephone, which was on one of my night- stands.

"Speak to me," I quickly said, as I picked up the phone.


"Yeah dawg?" I immediately recognized Stevie's voice, and responded in my usual manner.

"Hey, dude. I talked with Ellis. He is totally out there. I hope you teach him how to step back." Stevie chuckled, I could detect his scheming mind, raveling some sort of plan.

"You think?"

"Yep, I do. Let's say we have some fun," his words, spoken like the mastermind of antics, I had grown so fond of knowing all my life.

"Say what?"

"Hm hm, just follow my lead when we get there," he said diabolically.

"Come on dude, you got to say where we are going. I can't get in the whip, unless I know the map."

Stevie and I, both went to some of the best private schools in Massachusetts, he went to Mount Herman and I went to Monson. Actually, Mount Herman is known to be a better school, but we didn't stand on ceremony. When we got together, we used the Ghetto-rap as well as, the boys in the hood. I did it to fuck with the other white boys on Nantucket; Stevie did it to piss them off. We were two peas in a pod.

I pictured my former brunette friend, now with his bleached blonde hair, while we spoke on the phone. Stevie had bleached his hair the same weekend I got the tattoo on my arm. It was our way of saying `Fuck you' to the establishment. He and I never liked going with the flow, we always took the `road less traveled'. Often competing with each other, seeing if one of us could be more outlandish than the other was. It had been a game of sorts for years.

"I'm gonna get to the club before you. I'll set it all up bro. I'm gonna tell Ellis and the crowd your cousin is in town. You introduce our victim as your cousin. I'll do the rest. Trust," Stevie explained his rue.

"What do I have to do?"

"Follow, just follow. Let's see where it takes us," Stevie ended his dissertation.

Bzzzz, was all I heard; he had hung up and I hadn't anymore of a clue than what he had just said. Knowing him, it was going to be a night to remember. I felt like the frigging `Cheshire Cat', how proverbial sounding, I know.

I heard the slight knock on my door, when I was putting the cordless back on its stand. I opened the door and was face to face with Charles, the man above the rest. I stared up at the six foot six butler, as he looked down at me with a grimace on his face. I couldn't imagine what his problem was, but I had an idea.

"James, your parents have come home. It seems your new friend was at the door at the same time they pulled in. Your mother called the police on the mobile phone, thinking a burglar was plotting a robbery. I think you had better come down. Your father has the young man detained in the library." Charles rolled his eyes at me, turned and walked away.

I couldn't believe it, I saw flashing red and blue lights, coming from out my bedroom window, when I walked into the hallway and glanced back; the reflections bounced off my walls.

I quickly ran down the staircase, by the time I got to the library I saw my new friend tied up and gagged in a chair. Danny's black eyes were full of fear, his cheeks were beet red. I walked into the library and his eyes softened at my sight.

"Now, young Mr. Winslow, don't you worry. We will take this druggie to the station where he belongs," the local island patrolman said.

"Oh, James it was simply horrible. He was skulking about our door when we got home from the club," my mother frantically stated, breathing rapidly.

"Why don't these kind stay in the city where they belong?" Father inquired of the young patrolman.

"Drugs, it's horrible. They come here to get money and valuables to support their habits, this new ecstasy drug has `em all screwed up," the man in blue said, arrogantly.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My poor friend hog-tied to a chair and these fine people talking about him like he didn't have any ears. I was somewhat amused, but found the situation embarrassing. It spoke volumes, it truly did. I walked over to Danny and began untying him.

"Son, what do you think you're doing?" The young cop asked. He was kind of cute too, if I do say so.

"This is Danny, Mother and Father. He lives next door, we're going to the club with Stevie."

I heard the chimes of the doorbell as I said it; I had only untied Danny's hands. I could see tears in his eyes. My heart sank; I realized what a horrible thing that had happened to him. I thought about his poor dyeing mother. I couldn't help but feel shame, for my own terrible actions. I had no idea it would go this far. I just wanted to tease at Father some, not have a police action.

"Stephen Chemlsford is here, requesting the honor of your presence, Master James," Charles said, obviously not amused with the goings on. He was too reserved to intervene, however.

I quickly removed my mother's scarf from Danny's mouth. I placed my hands on his shoulders. I could feel his heart beating, fast and hard while I touched him. I knew he was terrified. I looked to Charles, our butler, my brown eyes felt like they had sunken deep into my brow.

"Send him in, Charles."

I was totally flustered. I didn't want to loose this young hunk to my ignorance. Since I was like nine, I had wanted Stevie. I had feelings for other boys; they began just before I began puberty. I guess, I was early with the hormonal development. I began growing pubic hair when I was only ten. Stevie was much later than I was, when we were young we would compare notes, often examining each other's private areas. Stevie didn't grow any hair until he was almost fourteen. I remember how upset he felt, he became obsessed with the idea he would never develop like I had. I told Stevie often about my feelings, but was re-buffed at my every advance. For the first time in my life, I had a chance to meet someone that was gay, and now it could all be ruined. Stevie had heard Danny was gay and I felt that certain sense I had read about, I hoped my opportunity hadn't been dashed.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Winslow," Stevie greeted my parents. His face said it all; he was beaming with excitement.

"Hi, Stevie," Mother snapped the words, like you would a fresh carrot.

"What's going on?" Stevie asked, with some amazement.

"It has been a terrible mistake, they thought Danny was a robber. They called Nantucket's Finest," I quickly exchanged, with Stevie.

"Really. Is this Danny? The new kid that moved in next door?" Stevie couldn't resist `rubbing the salt into the wounds' of my parents.

"It would seem so," Father glumly, responded.

I continued to untie my newest friend, at least I hoped he was a friend, from the chair. I couldn't get over his beauty. I took extra care in removing the ropes from his legs; hey I didn't want to cause any rope burns.

"Que paso, cabrones? No hizo nada. Idiotos! Soy peligroso, soy fuerte, no quiren un pedaso de mi," the words flew out of his lips.

He sounded so sexy, when he said, whatever it was he said. I was in love. I couldn't take my eyes off his well-defined body. He was dressed in the latest Aero Postale short sleeved red, button up shirt; I had seen it in the last Structure advertisement. He had on a pair of well fitted Union Bay navy blue cargos. I helped him out of the chair, once I had him fully untied. I grasped both his soft hands in mine as I pulled him to his feet.

"Danny, can you ever forgive my parents? I am so sorry. I hope you'll still be my friend," I begged him, while I looked deeply into his eyes.

"Si amigo. Yes my friend. I am sorry too."

"Oh my God, you speak Spanish," Stevie said, rather ignorantly.

"Let's get out of here," I said, as I took Danny's hand and led him past the cop.

"Stevie, I decided not to go to the club just yet. Why don't you run along without us, we'll catch up. I want to take Danny around the island and show him some points of interest." It was the best excuse I could come up with, to have some time alone with this great person that I had just met.

"It's all good. I'll check you out later. See ya!" Stevie shouted to us, as he got into his car.

I really wanted to be alone with Danny; I just had to personally apologize. I didn't want to have anything come between us. I needed him in my life, I don't know what it was that drew me to him. It was more than just the physical attraction, I felt a strong connection that mere words could not describe. Well, that may not be accurate, I couldn't put the words to how I felt, is more the truth.

I slid into my leather seat of the Porsche, and Danny quietly sat in the passenger seat. I stole a quick glance his way. I noticed him smiling at me, those huge white teeth seemed to glow in the night. His eyes gleamed as he kept them on me. I felt so alive. My heart was racing. I turned the key in the ignition and heard the engine as it roared. I pushed down on the clutch and checked my shift to make sure I was in first. I gradually released my left foot off the pedal, and the small car lurched forward into the darkness.

"I am so sorry, Danny, I don't know what to say."

"It's OK. I understand."

"I really want to be good friends with you. I don't know why but I feel strong about it."

"I feel the same way, mi amigo."

I turned my head in his direction, while I maneuvered my sports car onto the main road, I smiled. I noticed the full moon above staring back at us threw the windshield. I pushed the knob that controlled the sunroof, nothing happened. I remembered, it didn't work earlier either.



"I have to tell you something," Danny looked intently my way, his voice was full of concern.

"Danny you can tell me anything you want. I have to tell you something too."

"Do you want to go first? Mi amigo?"

God, I loved the sound of his accent when he spoke Spanish. I only knew a few words; Amigo was one of them. I had taken French, don't ask me why. Father had said French was what he had taken, and it was what I would take. I remember thinking how silly, I mean, the second most spoken language in America today is Spanish. I was certainly at a disadvantage speaking French. Hell, the French I had been taught, wasn't Canadian French either, it was Parisian French. When did Father think I would get to France?

I noticed his smile, I couldn't take my eyes off of him, it seemed. His lips seemed to pout.

"No you go first, my friend," I said, with sincerity in my tone.

"I'm gay," he simply stated, and then he looked out his window.

"So am I."


Hey, hey, that's all you get now! I hope you like it. I love James, I really do. He is such a little shit. Let me know if I should keep this one going, I await your letters.

Thanks Sarah and Wayne for your work editing this chapter.

As always, but not forever,