Date: Tue, 6 Feb 2024 23:14:05 +0000 From: Oliver Readings Subject: Boy on a Mission- chapter 4 This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental. If this sort of material offends you in any way or if you are a minor, please leave now. Feel free to send me feedback at olliereadingsw@gmail.com! Also, do send donations to https://donate.nifty.org if you can, to keep Nifty alive and running. Boy on a Mission Chapter 4 When I tell you I had one of the best bate sessions in my life that night, I mean it. I have now unraveled a few more secrets of Mr. Hart. Well, most of them are just fragments of one big secret, but hey, I know more things now. This is huge for me! Okay, so Mr. Hart is cheating on Alicia and, in a way, uses his kids to hide the other woman's identity. Right, so when I summarize it like that, it doesn't seem like a lot but it is to me. Every little step counts for me to snatch this hunk. I just need to figure out what the next step IS, though, in order for this mission to amount to something. It has been approximately a week since I've seen my crush, and that was at his house. The universe has been kind to me lately, but as always, my life's been a bit dull especially since I don't really have a plan for what I'm going to do next, but that's alright. I was in the kitchen, having a snack when Cynthia walked in. Just got back from school, I presume. `So early?' `Yeah,' he says, putting her designer handbag on the counter. `Discussion ended early today. No point in hanging around.' She sat next to me and grabbed a chip before she started munching away, `Nothing today?' I was about to reply but she added, `As usual?' `Annoying ass.' She let out a small chuckle and playfully pushed my shoulder, `Relax. Just joking. Any plans?' I turned off my phone and looked at her as I said, `Don't know what to do.' `Mall? Tennis? Literally anything?' I groaned and rested my head on the marble counter. Cynthia had a point. I could literally go out and do anything else instead of laying on my ass the whole day. I guess it's been extra rough ever since Mr. Hart pooped into the picture. Not that there's anything wrong with it, because obviously I am hooked. Should I let my thoughts of him control every aspect of my life, though? Probably not, and sometimes I hate myself for not being completely delusional, I guess. Let's be real now, I'd be making bank if I could actually generate income from thinking about Mr. Hart. The hourly rate would be absolutely insane. Unfortunately, life and the universe is not always kind. I moved my head to look at my sister once more, `Give me a suggestion. A very specific one.' `You're not going to like hearing this,' she started. `Then don't--' `But the office thing with Dad and Julian isn't a bad idea, y'know?' she added. I merely groaned again as a response. She could've said anything. `Hey, let's go to the mall' or `Let's go bowling, Archie!' but no, she had to suggest the most boring thing she could ever think of. I've said this before and I'll say it again, I love my dad and siblings to death, really, but shit, I'm genuinely not interested in this whole corporate thing and have never been interested, period. Yes, I get that it's good exposure and experience but jeez, let a guy breathe. `Cynthia,' I muttered. `Please go away.' `Damn, shooed in my own house.' `Dad's, but go off, I guess.' In came Dad, all smiles, `Go where?' Cynthia and I looked at each other in semi-shock before turning our gaze to Dad. It was only 12pm, so it was weird that he was even home right now. `Anything happened at work?' I asked Dad. `Nope,' he replied. `Not much to do there today so I thought I'd spend the rest of the day at home.' Dad then looked at Cynthia, `And you?' `Got off earlier than expected.' Dad smiled at the both of us. I could practically read his mind. I knew what he was going to say. `Cook lunch with me?' he beamed. It was Cynthia who groaned this time. I mean, I get it, honestly. `Dad, we have a private chef,' I interrupted. `Yeah, but it's not every day I get to cook with my kids.' The way he said it made me feel a bit guilty. I've mentioned before how Dad has been nothing but kind and supportive to us three and while he may have been quite busy with work, he'd always make time for us when it was really needed or whenever he could. He was right, though. We haven't cooked together for years and I remember when we did, that last time, we had lots of fun. The kitchen was a mess and smelled of garlic and cheese for days, but I'll forever remember it as a fond memory. Why the hell not? I got off the stool, `I'm in.' Our kitchen radiated heat and smelled of a number of spices which ignited the feeling of nostalgia within me as Cynthia worked on the stir fried Xinjiang lamb while Dad and I made butter chicken. Yes, I know it is not really the most conventional combination but don't knock it till you've tried it. I swear, I was so caught up in the moment that Mr. Hart didn't even intrude my thoughts. Huh. The magic of cooking, I guess. We were done and as we were wrapping up, placing the dishes on the kitchen counter, Cynthia excused herself to use the restroom. Dad huffed as he took a seat, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. `Had fun?' `I'm with my kids,' he says. `Of course I did. I am.' I smiled at him upon hearing his words. Listen, I'm not perfect--clearly--but everything I've done up until this point? That's all on me. My dad did his best in raising me and I like to think I turned out okay besides the fact that I'm kind of trying to be a semi-homewrecker. `By the way, Theo was asking about you.' Mission mode: ON. `Yeah? About what?' I asked nonchalantly. `You weren't there with me,' Dad said. `He thought you'd be at the office with me often. I wish.' I let out a small giggle at his statement, but of course, my mind was elsewhere as it usually is when Mr. Hart was the subject matter that is being focused on. Then, I thought to myself, why haven't I met Mr. Hart before? Considering he and Dad have been friends for years according to him. Let's do some digging. `Dad, you and Mr. Hart have been friends for how many years again?' `20-ish years?' he replied. `We were closer back then, I guess.' `What happened?' He laughed, `Nothing happened, son. We were both busy and I had a business to run!' `Oh, so, no bad blood?' `Archie, we had breakfast with him the other day.' Right. Yeah. Oops. Mr. Hart and Dad were closer before. Before I was even born, even. He said that nothing really happened, but I've never even heard of the man until that fateful day. `Why haven't I met him before?' I asked, genuinely curious. `Well, you rarely ever want to go to the office with me.' `Yeah, but, you're friends, right?' was my swift response. Too swift for my own liking. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. Understandable, really, considering the fact that I was getting really into the conversation. About one of his friends, nonetheless. Oh god, I hope he doesn't catch on. Fortunately, Dad brushed it off, `Good point.' `But, like I said, we're not that close,' he added. `Even back then we were just friendly with each other.' I nodded in understanding before turning to my phone to seem indifferent to the situation. Of course I wanted to know more but I don't think this was getting anywhere, honestly. It's as simple as that, right? Dad and Mr. Hart aren't close and are just colleagues, so there's really not much that can be unpacked here. Cynthia returned from the bathroom after a while and the three of us sat down to enjoy the appetizing lunch that we prepared together. Dad was super happy to be having lunch with Cynthia and I and I was happy as well, but while eating a pretty good portion of the meal, I couldn't stop thinking about my crush. You are infuriating sometimes, Mr. Hart. You're lucky you're hot. Cleaning up was never my thing, or Cynthia's, but Dad essentially forced us to help him clean up the mess we made. Why the man even hired the mansion staff in the first place, I will never know. Anyways, we helped Dad wash the dishes and tidy up the kitchen and just like that, we were done. Cynthia told us she wanted to take a nap and left the two of us alone. Dad, on the other hand, remained on the stool as he scrolled through his phone. I took a peek because why not? Need I remind you that I've always been nosy? In this instance, I was extremely grateful for this invasive trait of mine, because Dad was texting my dream guy. `Mr. Hart?' I leaned in closer as Dad kept texting without looking up at me. `Hm? Yeah, I'm thinking of inviting him to dinner some time soon.' Dear universe or god or whatever, I know I've said plenty of bad things about you, especially as of late, but listen to me now as I ask you to disregard my ill words. I am and have been immensely grateful for everything you have done for me. Amen or whatever. Dad's going to invite Mr. Hart. Here. For dinner. And I'll be there. Fuck yes. `Why?' I had to feign innocence, of course. Wouldn't want to seem too excited now. `Our conversation earlier got me thinking about him,' he said. `I just remembered that you stayed over at his place last week.' Dad sent whatever he was typing and put his phone down to look at me. `Try not to do that again, son.' `Dad, it was late and it was pouring!' I rebutted. `You know how far his place is.' My father put his hands up, trying to calm me down, `Relax, Archie. I'm not mad at you. I just don't want you to impose on people.' Gee, thanks Dad. `He and Alicia insisted.' Dad rolled his eyes and cleared his throat before glancing at his phone that had just lit up. `Anyway,' he started. `I thought of inviting him and his family over to thank them.' Okay, I was slightly embarrassed by this but I can't really complain now, can I? My dad was going to invite Mr. Hart over. He was pretty much giving me an opening to play detective here and I'm not about to throw this mega opportunity away. No, not for the life of me. `When' I sighed, playing up my `irritated teen act'. `He said he's free Sunday night.' Sunday night, then. Sunday night couldn't come sooner. My patience paid off as Sunday came rather quickly. The mansion staff went all out with the cooking and cleaning. I even asked them to tidy up the guest rooms just in case the Harts get caught up in a situation similar to mine last week. It was around 6pm and I was ready. I dressed myself neatly with a brown polo and black chinos. Yes, yes, I know this dinner isn't technically going to be one where Dad was going to go on and on about corporate shit, but better to present myself this way rather than look like a total slob, I figured. The Hart's arrived soon. Dylan wasn't with them, of course. I assumed he was busy with college still, having just started and all. My family and the mansion staff greeted the Harts as they stepped into our home. Alicia, beautiful as always, kissed me on both cheeks before Benjamin shook my hand with a smile. I sensed nothing outlandish in his gaze when he did, thank god. To be fair, I did wash the pajama pants he lent me in the guest bathroom and even blow dried it before I left, so I can only hope that I did a good job at erasing the evidence. My thoughts of the incident vanished as soon as my gaze landed on Mr. Hart. Charming as always with his neatly styled hair and dark, ocean blue eyes. His five o'clock shadow was more apparent this evening, however, which made him look even sexier. The short sleeve, wine red shirt he was wearing clung nicely to his sculpted body, but his black trousers were a bit too loose for my liking. I could barely see the definition of his thighs, but whatever. Got to count my blessings. Mr. Hart shook my hand while also resting his free hand on my shoulder. I could only smile. I guess I held his hand for too long as he dropped his hand and backed away with a smile. `Thanks for looking after my kid,' Dad said as he hugged Mr. Hart. Mr. Hart returned the embrace with a hearty chuckle, `No problem. He didn't cause any trouble at all.' `I would hope so!' Dad laughed. I was embarrassed. It was as if I wasn't there and they spoke of me like I was a child. `Dad...,' I groaned. My father laughed and the rest joined in but before I was embarrassed any further, one of the staff members politely informed us that dinner was ready, so our party headed to the dining room. We were met by a feast on the table. The smell of food of different cuisines filled the air with an aromatic fragrance that was enough to make your mouth water. Mine certainly did, and my stomach seemed to agree as it started rumbling. Thankfully, everybody was so caught up in their own conversations to have noticed it. The universe was once again kind to me. It wasn't too kind, though, because I wasn't seated anywhere near Mr. Hart (insert sad trombone sound effect). I was instead, placed in between Benjamin and Julian, while Mr. Hart was seated across from Dad at the edge of the table, next to Alicia. We ate in peace, genuinely enjoying everybody's company as we spoke about Mr. Hart and Dad's early days of working with each other. Apparently Mr. Hart was a bit of a hardass when he first started investing in the company, making a lot of demands or something. Dad said it was a good move on his behalf and I guess he's right, but then again, if you remember, I've never really been that well-versed in these things. Things took a bit of a turn when Benjamin became the topic of conversation. You know how old people are. They asked him things like, `Do you have a girlfriend?' and similar questions that usually become more and more irritating over time. Benjamin seemed fine with it, though, and he even said yes. I guess with okay-ness with the question was to balance out my own dread to be asked the same question. Mr. Hart turned to me--looking fine as hell--and asked if I was seeing anyone. `With a personality like yours, Archie, I'd be surprised if you haven't been able to get a girlfriend!' he chuckled. It stung, not a bit, but a lot. Not because of anything particular, I guess. Just the fact that he assumed I was straight and that it was my personality that shined. Like, don't take this out of context, personality is great! But having someone swoon over you for your looks doesn't hurt, y'know? My hands were already gripping the sides of my chair as I spoke up, `I'm gay.' There was a long silence. Not THAT long but it sure felt like it because when I tell you the silence was deafening, it truly was. My family, they've known I was gay since I came out to them a few years ago back when I was still in high school. Of course, they were all cool with it. Dad even cried when I told him, not because he was upset, no, but because he thought that I kept it in because I felt like I couldn't tell him. That couldn't have been farther from the truth because I came out to them literally a couple weeks after I realized I was gay. I just needed some time to sort things out myself. I knew my family and I knew how much they loved me. It didn't scare me one bit to tell them `Hey, I'm gay'. Dad seemed like he was about to say something, like he was going to warn Mr. Hart to not say anything stupid, but Mr. Hart raised his palm. He didn't apologize. Instead, his smile became softer as he altered his question, `You have a boyfriend, then?' Something about the way he said it made my heart flutter. He was being accommodating to me, which, I know, is the bare minimum but I'm talking about the guy I've been crushing on here. Let me have this moment. I shook my head, `No, sir.' `You're a catch,' Alicia giggled. `I've seen the way some of the people at the studio look at you!' Dad joined in the laughter and the situation was made lighter. `You should've seen him in his senior year,' Julian said, nudging me with his elbow. `Snatching guys left and right like it was nothing.' I glared at my brother. I didn't need him to showcase my unflattering side to Mr. Hart, but to my surprise, my dream daddy simply let out a soft laugh. `I don't doubt it.' `Archibald's a handsome young man after all,' he added. When I tell you I almost croaked. This man could not have been more perfect even if he tried his hardest. I didn't say anything. I couldn't, because I was too flustered to do anything at that point. I was just a blushing mess and they all laughed at my expense. I didn't mind, though. Why would I? The man of fantasies just called me handsome. I just need to find a way for him to call me that when we're in bed together. After dinner, our party relocated to the living room to have coffee and tea. This time, I made sure to sit as close to Mr. Hart as I could. He sat next to his wife and I sat on the sofa nearest to him with Cynthia. The conversation took a boring turn upon reaching the living room because everything was about work--everyone's work, and I wasn't there for it, clearly, but when Mr. Hart was talking, I made sure to pay attention. From the way his hands moved animatedly when he spoke, expressing his thoughts on a topic, to the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed. He's so dreamy I could barely take it. After some time, Mr. Hart excused himself to use our bathroom. I shot up from my seat with excitement, `I can show you the way, Mr. Hart.' In the corner of my eye, I could tell that my family was looking at me funny. I know what I was doing might have been too eager of me and could have definitely blown my cover, but I needed to seize this chance. Maybe I could even extract some more information about him. I figured that I'd have to explain to them soon if the issue ever came out, but for now, I was focused on one thing and one thing only. One step at a time, right? Mr. Hart gave me a smile and a slight nod as he gestured for me to lead the way. The mansion's huge, but the guest restroom was never that far, so I made sure to take a `longer route', if you will, because I was going to take my time with him. We've only been alone together twice before. Once at the cafe when my dad went to pay for our meals, and the other was when I caught him having borderline phone sex with his secret lady-friend. I just wish we were alone in my room. Patience. PATIENCE. I led him through the halls of our home but not once did I open my mouth. I'm all talk and it's pathetically hilarious. Luckily, Mr. Hart was the one who sparked conversation, making the journey less dreadful on my end. `You have a lovely home, Archibald.' I looked over my shoulder and smiled, `Thank you, sir. Also, Archie is fine.' `Right. Archie,' he chuckled. As we walked, he once again filled the silence, `Archie, I'd like to apologize.' I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him, confused by his words. When I looked at him, he had an expression that I couldn't quite describe. The best I could explain is that he looked sad. Remorseful, even. `Uh, what for, sir?' I asked. I'm not going to lie, I was quite uncomfortable. `Just now,' he sighed. `I asked--.' I had to stop him right there. `Don't worry about it, Mr. Hart. All's good!' He looked somewhat stunned at my reaction. Like he actually expected me to get mad or upset or something, really. Truth be told, it was never a big deal and yes, I know how contradictory it is of me to say that right now when I was kind of bitching about it just a few moments ago, but hey, it is what it is, I guess. `No problem at all,' I added. `Seriously.' Mr. Hart let out another audible sigh before fixing a sad smile, `Regardless. I'm sorry.' I waved away his apology and continued to lead him down the hall. Like, what am I supposed to say to that? `Hey, you're a massive douchebag for asking me that! It doesn't matter if I think you're hot and would like to have sex with you. Just mind your own business!'. Yeah, no. `I meant what I said, though.' I stopped in front of the restroom and turned towards him once more. `You are a handsome young man, Archie.' Fuck. `Any guy would be lucky to date you.' FUCK. `Uh, here's the bathroom, Mr. Hart.' I didn't know what else to say. I mean, it's great that he really thinks I'm good looking, but I don't want to seem like I'm full of myself by agreeing. I thought to myself, the sooner he goes in to do his business, the better. After all, I did NOT need to have my crush see the bulge in my pants right now. He nodded and gave my shoulder a pat before heading in. I moved a few feet away from the bathroom door and exhaled as if I had gone for one of the deepest dives in human history. I really didn't know how to act around the man and one day, it's really going to get me in trouble. I just hope that I'll get what I want first before any of that happens. I waited for Mr. Hart so that I could lead him back to the main living room just in case he got lost. He'd have asked the mansion staff if he did, but I'm already here, so might as well do it. It did, however, occur to me that he was taking a while in the bathroom. Five minutes, I think, is a long time for a guy to take a piss. Maybe he was taking a dump. Who knows? I was just waiting. Then, I heard a sort of gasp from the restroom. Like a tiny sigh of relief, so to say. Was the piss that good? Being the person that I am, I tiptoed towards the door like I did when I was sneaking up on him in his house. I got closer and closer and that's when I heard more of the sighs that apparently escaped from Mr. Hart. My mind, like always, went to places beyond as I thought of every possible scenario. He could be urinating, but he could also be stroking his cock--relieving himself in another way. Thinking about this did nothing to help my own raging hard on, but I inched closer anyways. Thank god there were no staff members nearby. At this point, I was leaning more towards the jacking off assumption because I could only hear quiet moans and whimpers, and obviously they belonged to Mr. Hart. I'd recognize his voice anywhere. Besides, who else would be in the bathroom with him? If only I was. Okay, no. Horny thoughts, begone! Naturally, there was just no way that that was going to happen because the entire situation was just making my dick throb. The moans were constant. They never got louder, unfortunately, but a squelching sound started to accompany his moans of pleasure and that was enough to make me believe that I wasn't going crazy. Mr. Hart was jerking off in my house. I didn't even notice as my hand had started to palm my erection through the smooth fabric of my chinos. The unconsciousness of the mind is truly amazing sometimes. Mr. Hart kept on pleasuring himself, and I matched his rhythm just outside of the bathroom, only a few feet away from him. It felt amazing. Exhilarating, even. It was like we were jacking off together, but fortunately for me, I still had some sense as I didn't outright pull out my dick right then and there, but believe me, I wanted to. The moment after that happened so fast as I heard a rough yet gentle grunt from Mr. Hart, proceeded by the sound of the toilet flushing as well as running water from the sink. I took a few big steps away from the door and looked away, focusing my attention on the picture frames in the hallway. I could have left...but something in me thought that it would be better if I remained. It was most likely my current high that was telling me to do so but one thing's for sure: I was in no position to challenge the thought, nor did I wish to. About a couple minutes later, the knob turned and the door opened. Mr. Hart released a subtle huff as he stepped out but went absolutely rigid when he saw me. Unlike last time, he didn't immediately shift to his usual coolness. He was too caught off guard this time, and it excited me. However, after a small cough, clearing his throat, he focused his gaze onto me and smiled. Only thing is, his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He obviously wanted to say something, but I beat him to it. `Done, Mr. Hart?' I ensured to keep my tone in check. Didn't want to sound smug or anything. With another clear of his throat, he responded, `Yup.' Then, his calm and collected self returned completely. `Sorry I took my time,' a tiny grin plastered on his perfect face as he gave his flat stomach a few pats. `All that food got me going crazy in here.' Ugh, he was definitely a dad. I made sure to lead him back to the living room with the same pathway we used previously so I wouldn't leave any room for questions from Mr. Hart. See? I'm meticulous like that when it comes to my mission. Once we returned, everybody spoke to each other again--not that they stopped when we left--but Mr. Hart wasn't as present as he was before. It was like he was thinking of something else. What an absolute privilege to be thought of by Mr. Hart. Thank you again, universe. Approximately half an hour after our return to the living room, the Harts decided to depart and as much as it saddened me to see them go--particularly you know who--I figured it would be best. I've done too much to Mr. Hart for the evening. I should let the poor man relax before I move on to the next phase of my operation. `Thanks for coming over,' Dad said. `We should be thanking you!' Alicia replied. `Give our thanks to the staff as well.' Small banter was exchanged for a bit between everyone except Mr. Hart as the only form of acknowledgement he gave was either a friendly hum or nod. Now I actually felt bad because I could see how uncomfortable he was at this point. If only I could reassure him by telling him that this feeling won't last. Once he sees what he's in for, he'll be grateful. He has to be. My efforts will not result in nothing. We reached the foyer and exchanged our goodbyes. Similar to last time, Alicia gave me a kiss on both cheeks and Benjamin shook my hand, but he also went in for a half hug. I was a bit taken aback but didn't really think anything of it. What did shock me, though, was Mr. Hart's hug. It was just like when I was about to leave his place with Amanda, but firmer. I returned it as I did before; not matching his firmness. Maybe I was thinking too much. Another one of my traits that isn't all that appreciated by me, rightfully so. He released me from his embrace and clasped my shoulder, giving me a slight shake as he flashed me that million dollar smile. I guess I had a relatively awkward look on my face because Mr. Hart chuckled and patted my cheek. He touched my face. HIS HAND WAS ON MY FACE. I was in a daze after that. I could see everybody talking, including Mr. Hart, but I wasn't anywhere near a coherent state because, HELLO? Read the part where my crush touched my face. I will not explain further. Honest to god, it was like a repeat of the first time I met the guy, because it was my dad who snapped me out of my trance. `Guess my boy's sleepy already,' Dad laughed as he gave me a very, very solid slap on the back. `We'll leave you your beauty sleep, honey,' Alicia tittered. They were halfway out the door when Dad stopped them, particularly Mr. Hart. `Hey, you should come earlier in a couple weeks.' Huh? What was Dad talking about? Mr. Hart ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, letting out a somewhat strained exhale, `I don't know, Owen.' It was like I was bound to say something. Something was pulling--or pushing--me to speak out. To inquire. And I did. `What's going on in a couple of weeks?' I honestly expected Dad to shoot me a look for interrupting as he always perceived it as rude, but surprisingly enough, he didn't. Instead, he beamed. With his marble gray eyes lit up and his mouth curved upwards, his eyes went from me to Mr. Hart and back to me. `Son,' he grinned. `How'd you like to go to Niseko with your old man?' `And drown in snow? Hard pass.' Dad clicked his tongue, a flicker of disappointment in his expression as I didn't act accordingly in front of our guests. Would you blame me, though? I've never really been a big fan of snow and it's the middle of January for fuck's sake. `You should tag along, Archie,' Julian jumped in. `Good experience, plus, fun with the company.' Yeah, absolutely not--wait. Fun with the company? Does that mean fun with Mr. Hart? `Come on, son. It'll be fun,' Dad said, almost pleading if you can believe it. I had to act subtle, though. Mr. Hart's going. I know that, at least. `You should, Archie. Niseko is absolutely gorgeous,' Mr. Hart smiled. Okay, I'm sold. `Okay, okay,' I relented. `Anything for fun.' And I meant it. This would mean something huge for me. For both me and Mr. Hart. This trip to Niseko will definitely give me an opportunity to further my advances, and I know that something big will happen during our time there. I can just feel it in my gut. Hopefully I can feel something else in my gut soon enough. Niseko, here I come. To be continued...