The following story is for adults and contains graphic descriptions of sexual contact between adolescent and adult males and the power imbalance of these relationships. Like so many of my stories, this is a voyage and return.

If you are a minor, then it is illegal for you to read this story. If you find the subject objectionable, then read no further. All the characters, events and settings are the product of my overactive imagination. I hope you like it and feel free to respond.

Fourteen runs through five progressions, with frequent interludes. If you would like to comment, contact me at eliot.moore.writer@gmail.com or eliotmoore@tutanota.com (if you want increased privacy)

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Levi 15

“Have some eggs. We need to talk.”

Fourteen. Stretches cat-like to the low ceiling, throwing in a twist that rearranges the rearrangements behind his taut belly. He feels it all like a good workout. “Shower, okay?”

“Malcolm is here. He wants to go. I’ll keep him busy while you get yourself sorted.” It is a kissable cock, piss-plump, still Fisher-tenderized, but with Malcolm King eyeing the Luxor Winnebago shades, this is Kale Euller stretching out the kink, not Fisher’s Fourteen. Let it go, you old letcher, Levi advises sadly. Levi shifts the plump folder beside the scrambled eggs, like he is moving a fork in line. “No time to waste.” Last warning before stepping out with a fresh press of Kopi Luwak.

Malcolm King stands beside his SUT B1 taking little interest in Frazer Wells. The morning is chill. Levi’s before comrade looks like a misplaced bum beside the expensive all-wheel drive. First cup of coffee rests on the square hood. Levi tops it up, then his own. The French Press parks on the velvet dust. “You were not kidding. You packed this pretty tight.”

“We need too much. Can’t cut the umbilical cord no matter what Sam and Roman say. It is their Pueblo too. I’m just keeping Franklin’s kids behind a firewall for as long as their mother will let me. We like the odd luxury. I spread the trips into Flagstaff out though.”

“Yes you do. You’re a hard man to get ahold of.”  Malcolm grins at Levi.

“Sorry to take up your last seat, then.”

“We always keep one seat free.” Malcolm waves it off. He looks off toward the not quite end-of-the-road sparseness of Frazer Wells. Supai, just short of Havana Canyon. On or off the Havasupai Indian Reservation, Malcolm could not say. That was his end of the road. The empty seat is for Cordell Faulkner, whenever (if ever) The youth prodigal-son’s it back to Sam’s after-fatted-calf reunion-punishment. Malcolm leaves that story untold. Of course, wayward Cordell is not about, so of course a seat is free for Levi Fisher’s problem. “We used to be sort of funny guys, didn’t we Levi?”

“I think I have had my last laugh, Malcolm.” Levi takes a sip and thinks of Fourteen shower-readied, the damn envelope, for the moment, overwhelming thoughts of Nguyen Huu Tuan waiting for him at the ruins of Mỹ Sơn Temple.

Twin bags lay fresh-packed, adventure-ready between the captain’s chairs. Levi has draped fresh travel clothes across his dining chair. The Luxor Winnebago familiarity will wait for them here, because Levi has explained it would be shaken to parts on the rough road to wherever this old fart with an artificial leg is living. Cold eggs and artisanal bread can wait. Fourteen takes the time to set his house in order. No hiding the sweat-sweet, earthy odor of man-sex impregnating the bed like second hand smoke. Fourteen wonders what the one legged man, beside the sick, black sport utility truck, would think if he stepped into the reek.

Fourteen is three bobcat snaps into his Levi Fisher mandated free range egg and genuine (healthy) sourdough bran bread when he notices the Manila envelope. Four more adolescent (post fucked senseless) bites and a long thoughtful chew, before he reaches for it. Interesting things spill out.

“It is time for me to get going.” Malcolm reminds Levi, draining the coffee.

“I will rush the kid along. We just have to clear up a few things before I send him out to you.” Levi cannot see into the Luxor Winnebago. He cannot imaging this will go smoothly. “Just give us a moment in private, Malcolm.”

The boy sits looking at his empty plate and the twin piles sorted on the small table. There is no movement when Levi steps up into the Luxor Winnebago. Levi does Fourteen’s job. He drops the coffee cups and empty press into the sink and adds the empty plate. Fourteen flinches when Levi reaches for the empty plate. Washing can wait. Levi leans against the counter.

“What is all this?” No, please. Fourteen’s fears have loosened the tongue and now he is all familiar before tears and thoughts. The small piles take the after-March promise somewhere unexpected. Levi said East, Far East, but that was some graveyard rendezvous in San Diego, maybe. Some LAX good willed departures moment, not… somewhere, parts unknown. “What is this, Levi?”

“A mistake.” Levi responds simply. It is, perhaps, a last test of wills. If Fourteen said, that’s cool! Levi knows he would try the brainless impossible; take Fourteen the distance to Mỹ Sơn Temple and beyond. First Mexico, then Malasia, then across the border into Vietnam, he thought it possible for a while. “I thought about it. I planned for it, but it was a mistake.

Fourteen leaves the why aside. North Platte taught him the relentless why of being Nguyen Huu Tuan’s unwilling proxy. Fourteen is Tuan’s handy (oh so gladly fucked) stunt double. “How?” He asks confused. It is a mystery how Levi ghosted a fourteen-year old boy across North America in the Information Age. How faceless have I become? Fourteen asks himself. He feels nameless now.

“Money and time,” Levi answers, taking a seat across from the boy. Malcolm King waits in his electric SUV, but this conversation is necessary. There are things Levi wants Jeremy Gates to know. “I have the money, perhaps you guessed that.” Their eyes meet for the first time. “I’m running out of time.” It is a cold hard fact, no regrets, no apologies. “Diverting as it is to be with you.” Fourteen acknowledges the emphasis with his tangerine smirk. “The stops and starts were all about this.” He points at the piles.

“Kale Euller,” Fourteen picks up the US  passport, studies his own face counterfeited on another boy’s identity. “Seventeen,” he notes skeptically. There is a temporary guardianship letter as well, granting Levi permission to take his grandnephew out of the country to Vietnam.

“Well Kale is seventeen.” Levi notes. “My niece would probably have signed that letter too. Knowing my plans, she’d do it enthusiastically, I suspect. The woman would be glad to help rush me along my way to the grave.”

Levi mimics his niece’s voice. “So sad for you, Uncle Levi. Do you still have the Barnstable property?”

Levi watches Fourteen drop the forged passport on the forged letter. “It should have gotten you out of the country. If nobody had your face flagged at the airports.” Probably a mistake, Levi reminds himself, still half caught in his dream ending. Fourteen-near-fifteen, the boy was plausible. The silver loop jewelry might be a problem at security. He has no way of knowing if pursuit has linked Levi Fisher to Jeremy Gates. Implacable little things like that killed the dream.

“Why these fakes?” Fourteen eyes the birth certificate (his name), school ID (his school), a bank card he never had, the Social Security Card. They seem to prop up the strange passport with his picture on it. Navy blue and gold (unAmerican) coat of arms. “Antigua and Barbuda,” Fourteen reads softly.

“Oh, those are very real.” Levi takes the Caricom passport from Fourteen’s fingers. “You know what I plan to do in Vietnam. It seemed unfair to leave you stranded by yourself in Vietnam, trying to prove who you really were. A fake American passport in your name would lead to more trouble with the Vietnamese. These documents would get you out, get you home again.” Keep telling yourself that, Levi knows that his original path would likely lead to Fourteen’s grave.

There is more. Levi considers the explanation. A program exists in Antigua and Barbuda, just east of St. Kitts and Nevis. Levi can choose between a $400,000 real estate investment and a $200,000 charity donation. “That passport is issued to citizens of Antigua and Barbuda for international travel. You are a dual citizen of Antigua and Barbuda, congratulations.”

Fourteen frowns. “Why this other stuff? You forged it all?”

“It is unfortunately simple to apply online for replacement documents. I needed breeder documents for the Caribbean transaction. It was a risk. It still is, but I just have to stay a few steps ahead.”

“Till Vietnam.” Fourteen finishes. “Nobody is looking for me.” He adds orphan-bleak. Where is love? The boy wonders, caught in this Fagin-Bill Sykes-Oliver now.

“I think you know that is not true.” Levi stands up. Fourteen follows with his eyes as Levi gropes behind microwave for the ziplock bag evidence. “I certainly know you are missed.” Levi turns back to (busted) Fourteen. “Let’s add this to your travel bag.” Levi scoops up all the documents, adding them to Fourteen’s stash. “It was a mistake. Stupid to think I could sneak you through airport security. Mexico maybe.” Stop doing that, he scolds himself.

“I don’t understand, Levi.”

“You do, Jeremy. It is just after-March early. I want you to take this last trip out to Malcolm King’s place with me, then you can go home.” Levi pauses for effect. “Malcolm King is the last of my buddies from the unit. Neil Jardine, Malcolm, and I, the last survivors. I will spend a few days with him. Then we can part ways in Phenix.”

The ziplock goes into a bag that might be Fourteen’s, might be Levi’s. This or that, the black gym bags twin the way old man and boy only did in bed. “What are you up to old man?” The question echoes. Fourteen is feeling the manipulation moment. Shreds of beef on a post distracting him from the (un)reality of a heavy antique Vietnamese necklace plausible bomb. Still not sure… Fourteen taken in hand, taken into his own hands. Massage the situation, until dizzy-mindless, Fourteen gives the old man what he wants. Wanting it badly too. See the Grand Canyon, cum hard in a man’s embrace.

“You’re lying Levi. What are you up to old man?” Fourteen is feeling the last Bronco ride to Gifford Pinchot State Park. Geremy Gates is getting bucked off the horse, still saddle sore. Patrick’s unexpected just-after plot twist is going to repeat itself. “Let me see your eyes.”

Fourteen is helpless-numb. John-Patrick had a hundred slender plastic ties and a Saturday Night Special to keep Fourteen hyperventilating in his seat. Dr. Evil Fisher, Levi (his Ed Harris look alike), mentor, confessor, dream-spinner, antagonist, he binds Fourteen so many ways. Fourteen is invested in this journey back to Tuan. Fourteen is Levi Fisher’s child soldier, a hefty M16 on hip, shoulder to shoulder with that band of brothers in Da Nang. Fourteen is Levi’s paramedic, keeping it together till the choppers bring them home. But, Levi is the fucking adult in the room.

Fourteen is all child-me-me-me-adolescent, but adults are gravity. Fifteen (close enough) still needs point of reference: mom and dad, teacher, coach, John and Levi. You have to push off of something, or you are drifting. Fourteen feels it. Levi wants him lost in space. “Levi, tell me the truth.”

Tell me the truth, Levi sighs. I’m trying to save you. The terse exchange was brief. The Gifford Pinchot state Park handoff was perilous, like dropping in country, parts unknown. That moment by the bench with John Cannon so like snatching Tuan away from Fucking Jardine. “It will be better for you, Jeremy.”

“Better for you.” Bitter-bile come back from the wounded boy.

“Better for you.” Levi echoes. Echoes on echoes, Life is like that, Levi knows. It is a better regret-free after Levi wants for Jeremy Gates. “It's just a chance to see the Canyon area before we split up. Seventy-one and I’ve never seen it.”

“You care less about the scenery. You want to ice me, like John would. You plan to take me into this empty desert, drop me into a hole along with that bag of evidence. Make me go away, so you can escape.”

“No,” Levi repies calmly. “I promised you, you can go home. The SUV is packed full. You go out shotgun with Mr. King. I will follow with Mr. Montreal. I guess he got held up at some store in Flagstaff. Jeremy, you have to go now.” Echoes on echoes, Fourteen remembers the adult-finality of John’s voice, telling him like it is.

“I thought you liked me. I thought we were friends.” Fourteen has dropped a decade with that broken confession. He knows it as he says it. Next it will be, no, please no, but Fourteen musters something else. “You need me, Albuquerque.” Remember toppling like a tree?

Which is true, and seriously why Levi is having this conversation. Next time, Levi thinks, he is never getting up. “You’ve helped a lot. It’s done. I’m done.”

Fourteen cannot understand this tranquility. It reminds him of Patrick zoning out, coming off the autoerotic boy-rape now-catharsis of his after addiction. Hard to explain to the life-strong tangerine of fifteen. When you feel the dying, you want it. You don't fight it. Dreaming the Tuan-sunrise end is good. Levi is bone tired. No more saving others to pay Tuan’s bloody debt, fighting the guilt. Levi wonders if there will be a moment in Da Nang where he will be sorry. But here and now, he feels good. Weight’s off him. Some great weight. Let it slide off his aching heart. He has even paid weregild for having Fourteen for four months. Time for a good end at Mỹ Sơn Temple. Nature does not abhor a vacuum, as it turns out.

“You’re done with me. Drop me in a hole or give my ass to that old man out there, or that other guy in the truck.” That hyperventilating desolation tipping into the abyss is working its way up. Fifty years on, Levi stills recognizes the shit-your-pants fear of teenagers riding the first-time Huey to the drop.

Levi turns back to the bags. His hand comes free with the Beretta Nano threat tucked in its handy holster. Swinging back makes Fourteen flinch, bite a lip, ducts at the flood knowing this Saturday night special rerun. “Look,” Levi urges. Nano slides small-deadly into a practiced hand. “Watch, no safety.” Levi works the slide, shows wide eyes how to eject a round. “It’s loaded.” Clip comes free. “Six rounds, 9mm, there’s an extra clip in the bag, box of ammunition too.” Fourteen finds himself nodding. He watches Levi work the sled again, reload the clip,

“Your turn, show me Jeremy.”

“It’s small, not flashy. People get off on big. Small gets there.” Five and a half inches in his hand, the irony is lost on Fourteen. He has handled the twenty ounces, boxy black, update-lethal. Fourteen does not like it. Levi’s voice is intense as he takes Fourteen through the paces. Choppers coming down and this is boot camp. He flusters Fourteen. “Put it in your waistband.”

“I’ll shoot my dick off!”

“It’s safe, made safe for concealment. It’s QuickDraw safe.”

“I don’t want it. Put it away.”

“We will take it out to Malcolm’s. There should be a chance for you to do some target practice. I’ll teach you.” Lies on lies, get the boy in the electric box. Levi drops the deadly little toy back in Fourteen’s bag. The boy can find it there later.

Reassurance-insurance Levi has not completely betrayed the sweet boy. He pauses to say goodbye to the Japanese Hikari Folding Knife. Damascus Steel and Stag Horn handle have followed him down many dark pathways. He likes it better than the gun. Chasing pretty Boys does not always go smoothly. The pretty boys are not always kind to old men. “Are you ready to go?”

Fourteen closes his eyes, gathering strength. it's a mystery why we commit ourselves with the people we do, when all sense says we shouldn't. Fourteen trusts Levi like he trusted serial-killer John. He thinks with his cock and heart too much. Somehow, his heart survives and his instinct is good. “Okay.” It is shaky, half believing this is true.

Fourteen totes the bag, feels he is carrying his whole life at the end of his fingertips. He pauses at the open door, sees Malcolm King shift toward the driver’s seat. “Am I pretty? Am I beautiful?” This has been on his mind since Scott Beck huffed it out.

“Do you want to be?” Levi asks hoarsely. “Did I ever use those words? I cannot remember.” Sure you’re beautiful kid. It cannot be helped. “Your good looking.” Levi concedes.

The boy nods. “You never called me pretty.” He decides.

“I will see you out there. I will just be right behind. First time for me too, we’ll see the canyon together.”

Decision made, Levi can feel the pressure, feel the tsunami tide pull him back east to the flotsam debris of his fugative-journey west. He feels the dry-beach anticipation of the flood growing just beyond the horizon. The now is dangerous. Levi has to go before the dots connect to Jucking Jardine in North Platte, the hospital in Albuquerque. Jeremy Gates dropped a pin, restarted the search. Perhaps it doesn’t matter, but it does to Levi Fisher. Mỹ Sơn Temple matters. “Get going kid.”

The Bollinger SUT B2 is off in a cloud of dust with Fourteen riding shotgun. Levi’s last sight of the boy is his tangerine lover staring back at him through the dusty window, too smart to smile. It’s about a fifteen-year-old boy. It is about, set things right. Levi knows his wallet is buying dispensation for a hypocrite. He hopes Nguyen Huu Tuan loved him back. He hopes the tangerine romantic fading down the road told the truth, Tuan wanted me to live. And we would all go down together. Romantic Billy Joel, but the song captures old Levi’s heart well enough: Live for us, maybe.

Levi thought his Dark Web transaction was for a cheerful (Artful Dodger) slut with a heart of gold, failing that some bruised (Oliver Twist) soul trading his young body for a ride out of hell. Levi faked Bill Sykes-cruelty and revelled in his grasping inner-Fagin well enough, but he lived the wrong Charles Dickens classic. Levi had Great Expectations for his Artful Dodger companion. Wrong story, turns out Levi is the escaping convict favouring his own tangerine flavoured Philip Pirrip. Do the boy a good turn, improve his expectations.

Levi is an old queen still cruising around as Miss Havisham (defrauded and Tuan-deserted in Da Nang), after-trapped in bitter-sweet-bitter loss. Levi almost killed the boy. It’s about a fifteen-year-old boy. It is about, set things right. Before he transports himself to his Mỹ Sơn Temple immolation, Levi can cast the rotting Havisham-rag self pity off, be Abel Magwitch for his Pip. Levi still has great after-expectations for the second boy he loved.

A program exists just east of St. Kitts and Nevis. Levi can make a $400,000 real estate investment. Make Jeremy Gates a citizen of Antigua and Barbuda, set a little aside to keep the wheel from squeaking. Let phlegmatic Banbury explain it all after I’m gone and Fourteen is really eighteen. Let Ian Holland keep a watchful eye on Fourteen Gates. An old lover, after-trapped, faithfully looking out for the young lover. Looking at Fourteen puzzling out the travel documents, Levi thought to tell him.

Levi thought to tell Fourteen. Hand it over to the boy, like he would place a crisp hundred-dollar bill in the hand some hooker. Fourteen was the most expensive fuck I’ve ever had. Crossing Fourteen’s palm with cash here in Arizona would be so wrong: “Thanks for all the fucks, kid. Sorry about the dick-surgery in Michigan.” It is the thought that counts. Abel Magwitch never renovated a modest condo complex in Antigua for his Pip. Miss-Havisham-Levi schemed to cut Fourteen’s life short at Mỹ Sơn Temple. Make the kid your slave boy sacrifice, dead in your numbing arms. Levi won’t look for Fourteen’s after-gratitude. He never earned it.

The best after Levi can gift Fourteen is not some secluded tropical paradise with his twin names cleverly on it. It is peace of mind. Levi has made this now-betrayal so Jeremy Gates goes home to a regret-guilt-free-after. Levi won’t ask Fourteen to lie for him, help his abductor flee the country. Help Levi kill himself. That is too much to put on Fourteen’s soul. He might be wrong about that. He might be misreading the boy. If Levi is wrong about the boy, and Fourteen wants him caught, then best to stop him now. Either way, Malcolm King will keep the boy safe in Arizona for a few weeks, then see him to a police station door.

Levi has lost sight of Fourteen and Malcolm King. The spring desert will not bloom for him. Stepping into the emerald green Luxor Winnebago, Levi feels alone. Half a year (almost), the boy has been about, cooking, smiling, sulking, furious. It comes to Levi that he knows the boy better than he ever knew Nguyen Huu Tuan. This battered old RV has been their Mỹ Sơn Temple.

He cannot bear lying on the shared bed without Fourteen. He does not have to. Sky Harbor International Airport in Phenix is not that far. Maybe four hours through the Fort Apache Reservation, then he can turn his back on it all. I could end it here on the bed. He might, but he won’t. The ghosts keep clambering, calling him back to the Da Nang before. The Luxor Winnebago starts smoothly. Levi turns his back on Fourteen, sets his mind on Tuan waiting in the bombed out ruins of Mỹ Sơn Temple. Tuan held things back from Levi. His ever-lover will not begrudge the salt-live goodness of a tangerine-tang boy forever-after lingering on his old lips.

Body of Work

If you are here on the midway then you have come to the carnival seeking entertainment, company and of course excitement. There are a dazzling array of rides suited your every mood. There are gentle rides that conjure up soft memories of youth and rides that lift you from the dreariness of your grind and send you flying ageless through the night. There are also the side shows…

If you are here then you are in the house of mirrors captivated by the reflections around you. They are all curved in some way. Every mirror is imperfect and every mirror draws your attention to something new. The mirrors magnify or diminish parts of what we think is real. Sometimes you like what you see and sometimes you don't. Sometimes you believe what you see and sometimes you can't be sure what has been distorted. The distortions are intentional and we flatter ourselves into believing the mirrors only stand arrayed like this in such places as the midway. Before you go back to the mirrors of your life step closer to this one.

Eliot Moore, 2007

Here is a summary of the wide variety of other stories I have published.

Dark Thoughts Rising: This story was posted to Nifty in April 2017. Keegan Bressler (14) and his best friends Rey and Davon rape Keegan’s stepbrother Rowan Pense (12) during the course of a drunken party. The three boys embark on a desperate struggle to keep the shattered and confused Rowan from revealing their crime. As events unfold, Keegan and Davon fail to fight their inner demons. Rowan begins his own journey, hiding the truth from his closest friend, Hayden, until he reaches the breaking point.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/dark-thought-rising/

Awakenings: This ghost story was posted to Nifty in November 2016. Middle aged divorcee Jake begins renovating a 1900’s Craftsman home in an old neighbourhood. He becomes entangled with Will, the 18-year old ghost of a Great War veteran and Chris, a 15-year old homeless addict on a desperate quest. As Jake’s failed life is rejuvenated by his love affair with Will, he slowly pieces together the hundred-year-old connection that has brought the three of them together.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/awakening.html

For Your Eyes Only: This novella was posted to Nifty in November 2010. Simon meets Glyn and his younger brother James one August evening during a neighbourhood game. Simon and Glyn become fast friends but it is Simon's secret game with James Fleming that helps Simon accept his hidden self.

http://west.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/for-your-eyes-only/

A Fragile Light: This story was posted to Nifty December, 2009. Graham (28) goes to the Christmas Eve service to be with his husband John. He is alienated from his deeply religious family and detached from the warmth of the service. He identifies a kindred spirit teenage Theo and learns they have more in common than he thought as Theo is joined by Jesse. Graham leaves strengthened by the encounter.

http://www.dabeagle.com/stories/eliotmoore/afl/afl.htm

Janus: This story was posted to Nifty July 2009. Michael (18) is coaxed into attending a summer party by his older sister. He is college bound and uncertain about the choices he has made. At the party, his encounters with Lauren (19) and Scott (20) help him discover himself and make a decision about his future.

http://www.dabeagle.com/stories/eliotmoore/janus/janusdh.htm and

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/college/janus.html

Hound: This story was first posted to Nifty the summer of 2008. The first draft was completed in 2005 and in truth I sat on it a long time before I decided to post it. Six-year-old Ethan Yates is abducted off the streets by a pedophile ring. Cast into a nightmare world he struggles to hold on to his identity. Isolated and confused, he clings to fourteen-year-old Peter. As the years pass their mutual need develops into an indestructible bond.

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/authoritarian/hound/


Turbulence: This novel was first posted on Nifty between February and June of 2007. Fourteen year old Daniel Murrell finds the hazing at Riverview High School as freshie a serious challenge. He negotiates it with the help and hindrance of his friends. After a long year of discovery, he comes to terms with his bisexuality.

http://west.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/turbulence/ (first edition) and

http://www.dabeagle.com/storymainpages/turbulence.html (second edition)

Recovery: This story was first posted to Nifty in January 2007. Sixteen year old Greg Cox reluctantly joined his father in a small rural village in Saskatchewan. There his life becomes entwined with fourteen year old Seth Patterson. As he is slowly drawn closer to Seth he struggles with the memories and guilt associated with the loss of his mother, brother and sister while coming to terms with his promiscuity.

http://west.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/recovery/ and

http://www.dabeagle.com/storymainpages/recovery.html