Date: Sat, 21 Apr 2001 06:11:46 -0700 (PDT) From: tiberius Subject: Pillow Talk Pre-quel Chapter 7 *** !! WARNING !! *** Gay fiction about to begin! If you're not old enough please come back when you are. If you're not allowed to see this wherever you're accessing it from don't! You should go now at a run-if not, it's your neck and don't say I didn't warn you to leave. And last but not least-if you are offended by the thought of homosexuality then you're in the wrong place. Please go back the way you came in or you will be offended. Also, these characters come from my imagination. I know of no one like them in real life. Any one who sees himself or anyone they know should mark it down as a coincidence. Before I go on, I felt it was time to publicly say thank you to everyone who has written to me about Ian and Jeremy. I cannot begin to say how much I have appreciated all your kind words. I have always believed that a person should write because they love doing it, and I still do. But I have also learned how satisfying it is to know that what I write is read and enjoyed. I also want to say thank you to everyone who has helped proofed the drafts and given me some very good feedback. It wasn't always easy to swallow, but it was appreciated because it was honest and helped make this story better. Now, with all the warnings and the "thank you's" taken care of, I'll get on with what you came here for-the story! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Pacing the floor of his living room area, Jeremy looked up at the clock. It read six twenty. He was starting to worry that something had happened to Ian. In the last few weeks since the two of them had been going out, Ian was never late. If anything, Ian was always at least five minutes early. There was a knock on the door. Jeremy sighed with relief and went to his apartment's front door. He opened the door and there was Ian. Ian was dressed in a short sleeve, khaki colored, button-down shirt. The collar was open at the neck. Ian also wore a pair of faded jeans and sneakers. "Sorry I'm late," Ian apologized. "That's okay." Jeremy shrugged stepping out of the doorway letting Ian enter the apartment. Ian entered as Jeremy's eyes followed him. Jeremy closed the door and asked, "What happened? Flat tire or something?" Ian turned shaking his head, "No, I was just taking care of some last minute details for an anniversary party." "Oh?" Jeremy asked. "Anyone I know?" "Owen, my manager, has a brother and I agreed to let them use the restaurant for his wife's parents. They're celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary." Jeremy's eyes grew wide. He spoke in a quiet awe-filled voice. "I can't imagine being with someone that long." Ian shrugged, "My parents were married fifty-six years before Dad died." "Were you close to your dad?" Jeremy asked. Ian thought he heard just the slightest note of envy in the younger man's voice. Ian nodded, "Yeah, we were." "Wish me and mine were." Jeremy muttered not quite under his breath looking away. Ian was unsure what to say. He knew there were a lot of bad feelings between Jeremy and his father. Jeremy had made that clear. Ian sighed. "Look, it'll take us a while to get to the concert. We can talk about it on the way if you want." Jeremy looked up and then shook his head, "Nah, talking about it won't change my dad." Ian reached out and drew Jeremy in to a hug. "I'm sorry things are so bad between the two of you." Jeremy wrapped his arms around Ian and patted the older man on the back. "Thanks, but I'm fine. Let's go." Ian let him go slowly. Jeremy was not fine. Ian had no idea how to help him other than to just listen if the young man needed to talk. "All right." Ian sighed. "Let's go, but I still don't know how I let you talk me in to this." Jeremy grinned, "You'll love this group." "I don't know about that," chuckled Ian, "but I'll give them a chance." Jeremy opened the door and they left the apartment. Jeremy locked the door behind them and they walked down the hallway toward the elevator. Jeremy was still talking happily about the musical group they were going to see perform live. Ian was letting him talk grateful for anything that made his young friend happy. Jeremy was still talking when they climbed in to the car and started to drive away. Neither of them noticed they had been watched. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Ian and Jeremy made their way back to Ian's car after the concert. Jeremy was feeling energized and happy. Ian had been unimpressed by the group, but anything that made Jeremy this happy was worth the nerve damage to his ears. "They are awesome!" Jeremy shouted as they reached the car. "Didn't I tell you they were awesome?" Ian smiled, "Yes you did. They certainly are a talented group." Jeremy picked up Ian's disapproval immediately, "But you don't think they're any good?" "Good and loud." Ian shrugged. "Don't get me wrong. They are talented musicians. I could tell that by some of the arrangements they had in the music. Some of them were very difficult." Jeremy was disappointed, "But you don't like them." Ian sighed, "It doesn't matter. You like them that's what's important." "Then you didn't enjoy the concert?" Jeremy asked. "I didn't say that." Ian chuckled softly with a raised eyebrow. "I had more fun watching you get into the music. That was all the show I needed." Jeremy blushed. "You want something to eat before I take you home?" Ian asked thankfully changing the subject. Jeremy shook his head. "No thanks. I thought we could go dancing or something." "I wish I could." Ian sighed. "But I have to open the restaurant in the morning, and I'll be there all day right up until show time tomorrow night." Jeremy's lower lip stuck out. Pouting he said, "I suppose you better take me home then." "We'll go dancing next time." Ian said. "I promise." "Okay." Jeremy was pleased, and that pleasure showed in the smile on his face. Ian unlocked the doors with a push of a button and the two men climbed in to the car. A moment later the engine started and Ian's car drove away. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Jeremy awoke to a pounding on his apartment door. He shook his head trying to clear it as a voice rang out. "Mason, open up." The voice sounded upset. "Just a minute." Jeremy called out in response. Sitting up, Jeremy swung his legs over the edge of his bed. He glanced at the new alarm clock beside his bed. The clock read ten thirty in the morning. "Hurry up, Mason." The angry voice called out. Jeremy recognized the voice as belonging to the building superintendent, Fred Haversham. One of the rumors around the building was that Fred was a retired marine drill instructor. Because he was away from home on active duty so much Fred's wife reportedly left him for another man. Rumor also had it that Fred wanted children, but because of his lengthy time away from home there were none. Supposedly, this was also the reason his wife left him. Fred grew very bitter and angry toward his ex-wife, but since she was no longer around he took his anger out on everyone else. Jeremy did not like the retired marine and did his best to steer clear of the man whenever possible. Jeremy grabbed his jeans from the floor and pulled them on. He took a second to avoid pinching something near and dear to himself between the zipper's teeth. Jeremy grabbed his T-shirt and started to put it on over his head as he stumbled from his bedroom to the front door. Jeremy opened the door to find the building super standing there. The man was obviously unhappy about something. If Fred Haversham ever had been a marine "anything" he had let himself go since leaving the service. He was short with a stocky build and overweight to the point he could not pull his drab olive tank top down far enough to cover his potbelly. His stomach was so large that every time Jeremy saw Fred the man was wearing sweatpants with a drawstring waist. On his feet he wore house slippers and no socks. Fred's hair was buzz cut and gave the top of his head a squared look. Fred's face had the appearance of weather worn leather so parched it cracked. Obviously the man spent too much time in the sun. When he saw Jeremy, Fred's square face wrinkled even further in disgust. He snorted, "Look at you, Mason. Sleeping all day, and you can't even put your shirt on right side out." Jeremy remembered why he didn't like this man. "What do you want?" Jeremy asked not bothering to hide his displeasure. "I want you out of my building, Maggot." Fred said pointing his chubby index finger at Jeremy's chest. He was close enough Jeremy thought he smelled a brewery. "You've got 'til nine o'clock tomorrow morning to get your sorry ass and all your junk outta' my building. After that, I'm changing the locks and calling the cops." "What for?" Jeremy demanded. "My rent is paid." "I don't want no two-bit whores in my building. There are families with kids here. They don't need to be exposed to perverted maggots like you." Fred snapped. "You can't do that." Jeremy argued. "Can't I?" Fred spat. "Maybe you'd like me to call the cops now and tell them what I know. I'm sure they'd be willing to give you a room." For just a moment, Jeremy saw his father's face instead of the building superintendent. Jeremy could see his father, Jack Mason, saying the same hateful words. Jeremy's face flushed with rage, his hands balled in to fists. He wanted to knock the old man's head off his shoulders, but he kept his anger under control. Instinct told Jeremy if he hit the old bastard he would wind up in jail. Hitting this jerk was not worth spending even one minute behind bars. "And just what makes you think I'm some whore?" Jeremy asked carefully keeping his anger under control. "Some guy named Ian Shea stopped by to see me." Fred said through hate-filled eyes. "Wanted to know how I dealt with having a queer hustler in my building." Jeremy felt like some one had just kicked him. My Ian, he thought but Jeremy's sense of utter betrayal left him numb so he missed the significance of his own thoughts. Jeremy was brought back to reality when Fred spoke menacingly. "Remember what I said, Mason. I want you gone by nine am tomorrow." Fred reminded him. "Or I'm calling the cops." Fred Haversham turned and stomped off down the hallway. Taking the smell of beer with him. Jeremy slammed the door and immediately slumped against the door. "What am I going to do now?" he muttered. Then Jeremy saw red and knew exactly what the first thing he was going to do would be. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Ian was just finishing up the receipts for the previous night when his office door burst open. Ian looked up to see Jeremy storm in to the room and slam the door. His face was flushed and there was a fire in his eyes. He was very upset about something. Ian knew from the expression on Jeremy's face who Jeremy was angry with, but not what he had done to draw the young man's anger. "Why?" Jeremy asked through clenched teeth. Ian was still recovering from the surprise of Jeremy's anger. It took him a moment to answer. "Why what?" Ian asked perplexed. "You know what." Jeremy declared. Ian shook his head and said calmly but firmly, "No. I don't." "Oh yes you do. Don't play stupid." Jeremy snapped. "I was told it was you." Ian leaned back, "Whoa, just a minute. Told it was me by who?" "I thought you were my friend. Now I see you were just trying to get me into bed." Jeremy accused. "What in the hell are you talking about?" Ian was exasperated. "I am your friend, and I haven't done anything to get you in bed. I gave you my word I wouldn't." Jeremy tilted his head to one side and looked at Ian in a way that said, you don't fool me I know you're lying. Now Ian was starting to get upset. It was obvious Jeremy was upset with him about something, and it seemed like it was something bad. Ian took a deep breath and let it out. "Look," Ian said. "You're mad at me for something you think I did. If you want to argue about it, then tell me what it is so I know what we're arguing about." "Fine!" Jeremy threw up his hands. "My landlord told me that you told him I sleep with guys for money." "No." Ian said standing up. "I did not tell anyone how you earn a living." "Yes you did." Jeremy countered. "He told me it was you when he threw me out of my apartment this morning." Ian's eyes narrowed, "He what?" "Don't look so surprised." Jeremy snarled. "You knew he would. That's why you went to see him." "Come on." Ian snapped coming around the desk. "Let's go see your landlord." Jeremy was surprised. He was not expecting this so he stood there stunned for a moment. Ian opened the office door and looked at Jeremy, "C'mon, let's go." Then Ian left the office. Jeremy stood there for a moment longer before he finally threw his hands up in surrender. "What the hell?" muttered Jeremy before he turned and followed Ian out the door. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Fred sighed as he lifted himself out of his chair. Who was bothering him now? He opened the door and saw a man he did not recognize. "Yes?" Fred said not hiding his annoyance. "I want to talk to you about Jeremy Mason." Ian said. "If you're one of his pervert clients get your ass outta' my building before I call the cops." Fred said angrily. The man looking at him smiled, "So you don't know who I am?" Fred shook his head, "No, I don't know who you are. What is this about?" The man looked to one side of the door. "Satisfied?" A sigh came from the direction the man was looking. Then a voice that Fred recognized as Jeremy, "Yeah. I am." "Who the hell are you?" Fred demanded. "My name is Ian Shea." Ian declared. "Someone pretending to be me spoke to you about Jeremy." Fred snorted, "I don't care if you're the Pope. Jeremy's a whore and I don't want him in my building. If you're his friend I want you out too." "Oh don't worry." Ian said. "We're leaving. We're going up to his apartment and get his things now." With that Ian moved away from the door. Fred closed the door and said to no one in particular, "Good riddance. Damn faggots." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Jeremy rode silently in the elevator up to the floor of his apartment. He was feeling guilty. Finally Jeremy said, "I'm sorry for accusing you of trying to get me in bed." Ian gave a half-hearted wave, "Don't worry about it. If I were going to do that I wouldn't have told him who I was. That's just asking for trouble." "You know, there is one problem." Jeremy said. "Where am I going to live?" Ian sighed. That was a problem. He did have a spare bedroom though it would need some work to get it ready. Jeremy would still need a place to stay until it was ready. Then Ian knew what to do. "I have a friend who owes me a very big favor. I'll give him a call after we load the car. He might let you stay there for awhile." Ian said. "How much would it cost me?" Jeremy asked. "Not much." Ian smiled. "He owes me a very big favor." Ian stressed the word 'big'. "Thanks," Jeremy said. Ian shrugged, "What are friends for?" They arrived at the apartment and Jeremy unlocked the door. He was surprised his key still worked. Jeremy was expecting old Fred to have the locks changed as soon as he left. "What goes?" Ian asked as they walked in to the door. "Just my clothes, the alarm clock, and there's a potter's wheel." Jeremy said. "The furniture was here when I got here." "A potter's wheel?" Ian was surprised. "You make clay pots?" Jeremy nodded, "Yeah. One of my stranger tricks wanted me to use it to put him in the mood. The trick wasn't anything special, but I had so much fun with the potter's wheel I decided to buy one. I have a few pots I sell down at a local flea market. I don't make any money, but it's a hobby." Ian smiled, "I'd like to see one sometime." "I don't have any right now." Jeremy said. "I've been working too much." Ian nodded silently. Then Ian said, "Well, let's get started." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The next morning Ian sat at the bar of his kitchen. He was still waking up. It had been a long day moving Jeremy in to the motel, and then back to the restaurant to finish up his work, and then performing at the club. It was a short night by the time he climbed the stairs of his apartment and climbed in to bed. He was tired, but content as he sipped his morning coffee. Jeremy had been impressed with the motel room and Milton promised Jeremy could stay as long as he liked. The only thing that could not stay was the potter's wheel and Ian had set that by the piano. He looked at it and then at the door to the room that had belonged to Marcus. An idea formed in Ian's mind. Now he knew what to do with the room. Picking up the phone he dialed information. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Shirley was almost finished with the morning dishes when the telephone rang. Sighing, she reached for the handset and prayed it was not a phone salesman. Picking up the handset, Shirley placed it against the side of her head and said into the mouthpiece, "Hello?" "Is this the Mason house?" came a man's voice from the other end. Shirley noted the voice sounded rich and vibrant. "Yes." She replied. "Do you have a son named Jeremy Mason?" the voice asked calmly. Shirley would have sworn her heart skipped a beat at the mention of her only child's name. "Hello?" the man's voice asked again. There was a tone of concern in his voice. "Yes, I have a son by that name." Shirley nodded absently. "What's this about?" "My name is Ian, and I'm a friend of Jeremy's." the voice said. "Is he alright?" Shirley was anxious. "Jeremy is fine. I talked to him just yesterday." Ian said soothingly. Shirley closed her eyes as tears welled up. Her baby was alive and well. At that moment she would have sold her soul just to hold him in her arms again.