Date: Fri, 10 Jun 2016 23:09:57 -0700 From: Jon Hold Subject: Homeboy 2 This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be used without his express permission. Private persons and no others are given permission to have one (1) electronic and/or one (1) printed copy of this work. Nifty Erotic Stories ArchiveTM is given permission to archive this work. All the usual disclaimers that are usual apply here. This is a work of fiction involving sex acts between consenting persons of various ages and conditions of life. If you can't handle that or if you are not of legal age or mindset or location, go no further but remove this material from your possession forthwith. If you have faggot sensitivity, you ought not read this story. Positive or negative comments welcome. Everyone is 37 years older6 Try to keep in mind that while 42 is the meaning of life, it is not the only possible solution and that sexual dimorphism is Mother Nature's excuse for being kinky. Enjoy! Jon And now, a note for our sponsors, namely, YOU! Nifty could use a little help keeping these stories openly and freely available to the public. And they are free to everyone. But, if you do have a little extra $.¢ (Or a whole lot for that matter) this might just be the place to really put it to work, for all of us! Homeboy Chapter 2 by Jon Hold Copyright © 2015 jonhold@earthlink.net Chapter 2 It took two months for both men to admit something had gone far wrong after Tomi had stormed out of the house. The place was filthy, beds nasty and unmade, the bank president wanted to know where "that nice young man who had cleaned up all their accounts" was. On no uncertain terms he said he had no intentions of putting up with late payments and a set of books that refused any contact with reality, AGAIN! They were to get their "accountant" back immediately or suffer the consequences! The refrigerator was empty and the cat had moved next door. The lawns were un-mown and dying from lack of water. The pool stunk so bad from all the alge and dead things that the neighbors were complaining. Simon got up one morning and was yelling and bitching, wanting to know where the fuck his clean clothes were. "Quit bitching, Dad! You were the one who called Tomi a `useless piece of shit'. Just how long did you think he was going to take your crap before leaving us? Oh, yeah, the manager of the hardware store told us to shop elsewhere until our `Business Manager' comes in to straighten out the mess. I found the books he's been keeping for us, Dad. They're AWESOME! Somehow he even managed to get the IRS to back off and not fine us. I have no idea how. And, while we're at it, just who the hell do you think has been preparing all the great meals, washing our clothes, making our beds, vacuuming, and dusting and taking care of the lawns and swimming pool and everything else that got done around here. If I can find him I'm going to beg my son to come home, and if you don't fucking like it, or if you EVER AGAIN attack him the way you've been doing, I'll fucking deck you and take my Boy elsewhere. The books he created for us show that I've got plenty of equity to buy us a new home—where you will NOT be welcome! "All my boy wanted was for at least one of us to even notice how much he'd been doing for us. We couldn't even say "thanks" for anything. Hell, we didn't have any idea what the fuck he was doing for us or how much better our miserable, self-centered lives were because HE FUCKING CARED ABOUT US! And all we could do was kick him in the balls. Hope you're proud of yourself, Dad, but, personally, I think we're both a couple of ungrateful pricks! "Oh yeah, Dad. While you're trying to prove what a waste of time-space-and energy your grandson is, go up to his room and before you get all amazed at the fabulous job of remodeling he did, take a look at all his trophies, medals and awards. Did you know the the `worthless wimp son-of-a-bitch' is the flyweight State Champion wrestler? In both Highschool AND college divisions! Four times Statewide Athlete of the Year? Then there's his Gymnastics trophies. Should I mention him being Captain of both the swimming team and the diving team, and that he's led both teams to the State championships? And on and on, Dad. You were so proud of my Highschool football record. Well, I'm not even in his class, Dad. And neither of us ever attended one of his games. Hell, Dad, neither of us even knew he played sports. Oh, yeah, I saw a letter requesting him to join the training team for the United States Olympic Jujitsu team. Your Grandson, an Olympian! Not bad for a `worthless wimp', don't you think? Oh', Something you probably are aware of, Tomi holds a fourth degree black belt in Aikido, but you probably knew that, considering the flying lesson he gave you the other day!" Jock spent the next week not talking to his father as he tried to find his son.----- That first night Tomi really didn't know what to do or where to go. He ended up at the college gym where the janitor, knowing him, kindly let him in. Coach Thompson found him asleep on top of some dirty towels in a corner the next morning. Coach was worried about his prized athlete. Waking the boy up, he led him into his office. It didn't take long to figure out what had happened. Coach just shook his head and told Tomi to use the office shower to get himself ready for school. Tomi had to buy a new set of "required materials" (books and such) and tell each of his teachers that homework, papers and such were going to be late. If asked he would just quietly say, "I had to leave home". The teachers, knowing that Tomi was a serious student, told him to just turn things in as well as he could. Nothing was more than a few days late except for the term paper for history, which had to be started over from scratch. Coach was NOT a morning person, preferring a day that started some time after noon! This gave Tomi several hours for personal needs and to wrap up any loose ends from the day before. Waking Coach at 8AM was always the hardest task of the day. Tomi usually had him dressed (Coach slept nude, which was no way to go to school), shaved and sitting at the table with a cup of really good coffee in front of him and the air filled with the hungry-making smell of breakfast cooking before he actually woke up to any great extent. As he worked on his second cup of coffee, breakfast would be served. They would thank G-d for the food and the new day quickly and then dig in. Tomi was serving something different every morning and evening as he explored the complex world of food and the many ways to prepare the plethora of different dishes. After cleaning up the breakfast muss Coach would drive them to the college and then home at the end of the day. Tomi started off sleeping on the couch. He was having nightmares every night so Coach took him into his bed where the boy could cuddle up safely. Both of them slept naked and Coach was having control issues about his behavior with the beautiful, scared, and lonely boy. Tomi was talking in his sleep. It didn't take coach very long to figure out what Tomi's home life had been like or how how much he loved his father, and wanted to love his curmudgeon of a grandfather. Sometimes the exhausted boy would just lay there limp and unresponsive and cry. Sometimes Coach would cry too, ashamed that he didn't know what to do for the wonderful boy in his care. Coach finally called a college friend who had a PhD in psychology. Tom warned him that the boy sounded like he was on the road to self-destruction. Coach asked if he meant suicide and Tom just said, "That's one possibility." Coach was thinking furiously about what to do. The next day he pulled up Tomi's records that, because he was a local, went right back to kindergarten and discovered that there was no mention of his family or previous addresses. Apparently Tomi had hacked into the school systems computers and done a little "redecorating". The kid was GOOD! In a bad way, but very, very good! Looking through the phonebook all he could find under Cuzack was a construction company. On his fourth try, the phone was finally answered, "Yeah?". "Is this Mr. Cuzack?" "Yeah." "Who are you, The older or younger Mr. Cuzack?" "This is Jock Cuzack, what is it you want, Mr...?" "Do you have a son named Tomi?" In a suddenly alert and demanding voice, words erupted, "How do you know my son? Where is he? Who the fuck are you?" —Click— Coach called back again the next day at the same time. Even worse profanity and threats. —Click—! It was four days before Coach called again. The phone was answered immediately, "Hello?" "Jock Cuzack?" "YES! Please don't hang up. How is my son. Is my boy OK?" "Tomi is... Well, he's not your son any more Mr. Cuzack. You slaughtered that boy when you ripped his heart out and threw it out the door." Silence! Then, quietly, the sounds of a strong man, a proud man, crying. Sobbing interspersed with almost silent, "Oh. Oh, my G-d, Oh, my son, my son." "I'll let you live with that information for a bit, Mr. Cuzack. Maybe you'll feel a bit of the pain you gave Tomi. All he wanted was for you to love him, just a little bit. So..., Think about it for a while Mr. Big Man Jock Cuzack. Tomi has!" —Click—! Another week had gone by when Coach knocked on the Cuzack front door. Jock, looking like hell that nobody had bothered rewarming, answered the door. "Which Asshole are you?" "Jock Cuzack. I'm Tomi's father" They just stood there. Staring. "Well, are you going to invite me in, or should I just leave?" Shaking his head to clear it, at least a little bit, Jock moved back out of the way and opened the door. "Sorry, I'm not operating very well." As soon as Coach walked into the living room the smell, general disorder, and just plain filth gave him a woozy feeling as his stomach did a little flipflop. He turned to Jock, "Judas Priest, man! You really need to get a grip!" Headed back to the door, Coach grimaced and looked right into Jocks eyes. "Let's go somewhere where I can breathe and get a cup of coffee." Flushed with embarrassment, Jock quietly closed the door and followed Coach. "We can walk. The best coffee shop is only two blocks away.\ So they walked. Quietly. Each nursing their own thoughts. Once they had their coffee Jock tried to explain what had happened, both before and after "The Great Rift". Not making excuses. Just the bare information. In his opinion, expressed after his recounting his tale, he was every bit as guilty as his father for what had happened. He hadn't protected his only son when he most needed a fathers intercession. At the end of his narrative Jock was all wrapped up in his misery, crying, huddled against the wall and trying to hold himself together. "Well, aren't you the lovin' daddy!" Coach said with an audible sneer. "All wrapped up in your self-serving, overly dramatic whinning." Jock very nearly made it over the table before Coach popped him one on his forehead. "Listen you listless piece of dog shit. I'd knock the holy bejesuzess out of you if your son didn't need you so badly.' Jock popped up like an avenging angel, "Who... What... Where's my son. What's going on? What does he need? How..." "Just shut up and listen. Tomi is suicidal as hell. We've got someone with him 24/7. That's the kind of love his friends and teammates have for him. But all he knows is that he's lost your love, and that life is no longer worth living. He just lays there. Sometimes he cries. If anything were to happen to Tomi it would be for the best if you move far far away so that none of his friends can find you. That includes me!" "Where is my son!?!" "He's safe!" "WHERE IS MY SON!!" "Raise your voice one more time and you'll be sitting here alone! Forever. You don't deserve a boy as good as Tomi anyway! Why do you want your son back, Mr. Cuzack? You don't think you've hurt him enough? Or is it that you and your father need your whipping boy back so you'll be able to feel like men again? Or, maybe you just want to sell him to the highest bidder?" Jock Cuzack pretty much fell apart at that point, tears pouring down his weathered face, "Is that what Tomi thinks? That I would sell him?" "That's what I think, Cuzack!" Politeness his last thought as he removed the honorific, "Tomi would never think any such thing! He thinks he's failed you. Failed to be the son you wanted and needed. What Tomi thinks `MR.' Cuzack, is that because he's failed you, there's no longer any reason to live. That's why he's NEVER alone. NEVER! The first chance he gets he's going to check out. You and your father should be proud! You've managed to rip that boy's heart out and leave him with no reason to live." Taking a quick look at his watch, Coach stood up and continued, "It's time for my shift." Lifting the lapel of his jacket to show his pistol in its shoulder holster, "Try to follow me and I'll blow you off at the knees! Don't give me an excuse, Cuzack. I'd love to shoot you! And tell your father to stay away from me. I'd like nothing better than to give that prick a .44 caliber headache!" When Jock finally got to his father's house his old man wanted to know if he'd "...found the, `Little Prick'". Jock left soon after, slamming the door. Cuzack Senior was laying on the floor, missing a couple of front teeth and causing a pool of blood to spread across the expensive wall-to-wall carpet. A week later, 10 PM. The phone rang and wouldn't stop ringing. Simon finally got out of bed and answered the damn thing. Before he could start cursing, someone on the other end said, "Mr. Jock Cuzack?" "Who wants to know?" "This is Officer Gills with the police department. Am I speaking with Mr. Jock Cuzack?" "Jock isn't here, Officer. I'm his father, can I help you?" "If you can find him, tell him that his son, Tomi, got hold of some pills. The doctors at Memorial don't think the little guy is going to make it. Tell his father to hurry! Simon immediately called Bill, one of his lead foremen and Jocks best friend. Apparently he had caller ID because he answered the phone, "What the fuck do you want!" "Bill, please. I know I'm a prick. Get hold of Jock immediately! Tomi's in Memorial General Hospital. They don't think he's going to make it. Will you please do that, Please..." "DONE!", Click. Simon got to Tomi's room before his son. He knew he was neither needed, nor wanted in Tomi's room so he just asked the ward nurse, how Tomi was doing. She looked up at him, "And you are?" "I'm his Grandfather." "Oh. So you're the one who did this to him!" Simon Cuzak was a strong, self-made man. Basically a good man. He looked at the woman. A piece at a time his face collapsed and his eyes filled with tears. He shuffled his way to the waiting room he'd seen coming in, collapsed into a padded chair. Bent over, hands covering his face, tears leaking through his fingers as he silently cried. Two days later one of the grounds keepers found him under a bush... Guess that's enough of a cliffhanger for now. Give me a little time on this one. In the mean-time, donate to nifty so that I have a place to post the next chapter. Jon