Date: Thu, 30 Jul 2020 16:41:58 +0000
From: Jeff Ennig <Jennigmata@hotmail.com>
Subject: Beautiful Burglar Boy - Chapter 3

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Beautiful Burglar Boy - Ch. 3
By Jeff Ennig

By the time we reached the door to my fourth-floor condo, it was only
2:30 in the afternoon. Still plenty of daylight to spend with my newly
adopted teenage stray. I bought the top-floor corner unit of this prewar
brownstone building, overlooking the town square below, because it felt
like such a refuge from the overly social life I lived down below. Ollie
wasn't the first stray I had invited in to this refuge, and he probably
wouldn't be the last. But he was definitely the hottest.

I opened the door and went through first, so as to fend off any feline
escape attempts. Sure enough, Tom and Jerry must have heard us coming up
the stairs, because the little stinkers were right at the door waiting. I
shooed them back in with my feet and waved Ollie inside, closing the door
quickly behind him.

"Welcome to my humble home. This is Tom and Jerry. Since they look alike
and I found them huddled together, I assume they're probably brothers.
Tom is the one here with the extra black stripes, Jerry with the extra
grey stripes." Both kittens inquisitively sniffed at Ollie's legs, and
didn't flinch when Ollie knelt down to pet them.

"They're really cute! I haven't been around cats in a while, so I kind of
miss it."

Playing with the cats, he had the first full smile on his face that I had
seen yet. Oh boy, was I in trouble. My heart leapt into my throat as I
saw this troubled young kid finally show a little glimmer of happiness. I
was again overcome with a desire to take this kid under my wing. And of
course, keep him around for my own selfish reasons, too.

"Come on, let me and the kitties give you a quick tour." Ollie followed
along, with Tom and Jerry nipping closely at his heels. I showed him the
living room, where I had the television, large L-shaped sleeper sofa and
easy chairs, the dining room where I only occasionally entertained, the
porch overlooking the town square, the large open kitchen where I spent
most of my time, the bathroom that was surprisingly spacious for a prewar
building, and finally towards the two bedrooms.

"Here is the room I use as a library and office, as you can see. It had
also been a guest room with a futon, but Tom and Jerry completely
destroyed that futon in the first couple days, so I had to throw it out.
Now I've found I really enjoy it as just a library and office. And here
is the bedroom." I led him into my bedroom, also again surprisingly large
for a prewar building. It had a large king-size bed, nightstands, and a
chair in the corner, along with a large walk-in closet.

"Since I get up pretty early, I'll have you take the bed here, and I'll
be out on the sofa in the living room. I'll just move some things around
in the closet here to make room for you."

"Really? I'm okay with sleeping on the sofa."

"No, I insist. Guests take priority with me. For one, the bed is more
comfortable, and for two, I don't want to be waking you up when I get up
in the morning. I won't have it any other way. Hopefully you'll learn
that I'm pretty difficult to argue with."

"Ok, I guess so."

"Good, then that's settled. Now, let me grab some snacks and something to
drink for us, and we can relax and unwind for a bit out in the living
room. Maybe stream a show or something."

"Yeah, that would be cool." The kid looked a little tired, as though he
weren't used to working on his feet for nearly five hours straight.

"What do you want to drink? I'm having a beer. I also have sodas, La
Croix, lemonade, some juice of some kind, or tap water. In case you
hadn't noticed, Spartanville has great tap water."

"I'll take a beer," he said, trying his best to raise his shoulders, puff
out his chest, and deepen his voice.

Dang, this kid was cute. "Well, kiddo, I guess since you're out on your
own now, and you've got yourself a job and all, you should be able to
drink beer. I've never been a fan of the backwards drinking laws in this
country. I have a kolsch, which is smooth and refreshing on a summer day,
an IPA which is kind of bitter and tastes a little like licorice, or I
have a porter, which is heavier and a little sweet tasting. All of them
are good." I offered the beer explanations without prompting. I didn't
expect the kid to be a beer snob like me, but I wasn't going to embarrass
him by asking him if he knew what they all were.

"I'll have a kolsch."

"Man after my own heart. It's rare I like porters, and the IPAs I really
just have on hand for occasional guests who for some reason like that
kind of thing." Keeping his shoulders raised and inhaling a little bit as
he kept his chest puffed out, this seemed to give him a little confidence
boost, like he now belonged to some adult club where people had opinions
beyond Cheap Domestic Swill #1 and Cheap Domestic Swill #2.

"Cool. Thanks. Um, before we sit down, could I maybe take a shower? I
woke up too late at the shelter to take one, and I think I probably need
it."

"Yeah, no problem. That'll give me time to fix up some nachos for us
too." Trying my best to sound nonchalant, I further offered, "Hey, would
you maybe like me to toss your clothes in the wash while you shower? I
have a few things I probably should throw in the wash anyway."

Looking slightly ashamed as he stared at his feet again, he said "Yeah, I
suppose they probably need a wash."

"Ok. Let me go grab you a towel, and you can just toss your clothes out
of the bathroom into the hallway, and I'll throw them in the wash with my
stuff." Grabbing him the smallest towel I could find that would still
count as a bath towel, I handed it to him as he trotted off to the
bathroom.

He closed the door behind him, and a few moments later, opened the door
slightly to toss out his clothes. "Thanks Jeff," he hurriedly said as he
closed the door again.

As I heard the water turn on in the shower, wishing I were in there with
him, I gathered up his clothes along with a bundle of my own and headed
for the washing machine. I held his bundle of clothes up toward my nose
and breathed in the intoxicating musky scent of his teenage pheromones,
as all the nerves throughout my body shivered with lust and my shorts
tightened as a lightning bolt of electricity reached my groin. I could
practically see stars, I was so dizzy with desire. I held his socks away
from the rest of the bundle, as I'm not really a foot guy. I appreciated
the beauty of a strong foot, from a distance, much like my approach to
the beauty of jail-bait-aged boys. Look but don't touch.

After starting the load of laundry and finishing up prepping the nachos
and pouring the beers into proper mugs, I went over to the sofa and sat
to one corner of it, with the plate, napkins, and beers set on the coffee
table. I flipped through the streaming options to find some mindless
action film, not memorable enough for me to recall which one, and queued
it up to wait for the dazzling young beauty to emerge from his shower.

I heard the water shut off, and a minute later, heard the bathroom door
open. Trying to remain nonchalant, I sat looking at my phone, scrolling
through some article about the latest political nonsense in the world, my
heart thumping in my chest in breathless anticipation. I was not
disappointed. Strutting into the living room and rounding the end of the
sofa was Ollie, clad only in the skimpy towel I had strategically
selected for him. I looked up at him and quite possibly gave myself away
by my wide-eyed, tongue-tied reaction. I looked up from his perfect bare
feet, to his tanned, lightly-haired shins, knees, and smooth, sinewy
lower thighs, past the bottom of the tightly wrapped towel he held
pinched to one side around his narrow hips, to his crotch where I could
make out the outline of a soft, plump, circumcised cockhead, up to the
top line of the towel that ended just north of where I presumed his pubic
bush grew. From there he had a light treasure trail leading down from his
innie belly button and a perfectly-defined V lighting the way home to
glory against his golden tanned youthful skin, above which I saw the
outline of a lightly-defined four pack, mildly built pecs holding up two
perfectly round nickel-sized nipples, topped by a set of relatively broad
young shoulders, the beginnings of solid toned definition to his biceps
and forearms, and a thin, velvety-smooth neck holding up a head so
beautiful it would move a Renaissance sculptor to tears.

All over his torso, shins, and upper arms, were more bruises, some more
faded than others. I somehow managed quickly to come to my senses and
gesture to the other half of the sofa by the corner where I had set the
beers and nachos. "Have a seat, Ollie. How was the shower?" I focused my
attention on his head, careful not to gawk any further.

"That was really good. Had been a few days for me. Thanks for the beer,"
he said, holding up the mug to offer a cheers.

We clanked mugs and took a sip. Thinking quickly to lessen any
awkwardness, or maybe just create a different avenue for awkwardness, I
covered my earlier reaction with, "I don't mean to pry, kiddo, but I
notice you have quite a few bruises on you. You don't have to say
anything, I just want you to know I'm sorry you had to go through
whatever it is you experienced. The most you'll get here are a few kitten
scratches."

"Yeah, um, I don't really want to talk about that, if that's ok."

"Absolutely no problem, Oliver. I just wanted you to know I hope you feel
safe here, that's all. Now, anyway, I've got this movie queued up for us.
How about we sit back, enjoy some nachos and beer, and chill for a bit?"

"Sounds good. I, um, I guess I appreciate you not asking a bunch of
questions."

"Not my style, kiddo. Now shut up and drink," I said with a slight
chuckle. We both sat back in the sofa, sitting perpendicular to one
another at the corner, our bare knees nearly touching. Fortunately for
the sake of his dignity, but unfortunately for me, his towel was pinched
together at his other side, thus not revealing any more than what I had
already seen from this angle, but I was pretty content with things as
they were. With his head turned slightly to the side and his eyes glued
to the screen, I was able to steal a glance or two at his spectacular
form.

Not long after we were settled in, Tom and Jerry hopped up on the sofa,
with Jerry curling up in the corner between Ollie and me, and Tom
deciding to make Ollie's lap his temporary new home. Cats can be such
selfish jerks. There was Tom, spoiling my view. Oh well, at least maybe
they helped make Ollie feel at home.

Part-way through the movie, I paused it to get up and put the load of
laundry into the dryer. Returning to the living room, I asked Ollie if
he'd like another beer. I suggested he try the IPA in case it turned out
he liked it. It was also a higher alcohol content. He agreed to try it,
and to my surprise, he actually liked it. "Have you had much beer
before?"

"Yeah, my dad used to let me have a beer with him sometimes, so I got
used to the taste. I think I like the kolsch better, but I like this okay
too." While mentioning his dad, he clenched his jaw slightly while also
looking downward, almost like a mix of sadness and resentment. I didn't
push the matter further.

"Well, I'm glad you like the IPA okay. Since I'm not much of a fan of it,
it just takes up space until I have company that likes it."

We resumed the movie, and having a little beer in me, I started to loosen
up a bit, *accidentally* brushing my knee against his a couple of times
as I reached for the nachos. He didn't flinch at my touch like he had the
night before, but nor did he seem to make an effort to respond in kind.
It just seemed not to faze him. At least that meant he was becoming more
comfortable around me. It also hadn't seemed to bother him terribly to be
lounging around half-naked in that skimpy towel, though he did maintain a
firm grip on the ends of the towel at his side. As though maybe he'd had
experience at some point being scantily-clad in a locker room with fellow
athletes. Now there was a fun mental image!

Finally, the movie ended, shortly after I heard the buzz of the dryer. I
got up and loaded the clothes into a basket to carry back to my bedroom,
plucking out his items as I walked. I stopped at the sofa and tossed his
freshly cleaned clothes onto the cushion next to him. "Feel free to go in
the bathroom and change back into your outfit while I put these away."

"Ok, thanks."

When he emerged again from the bathroom dressed in the only clothes he
owned, I showed him where the laundry hamper was for him to toss the
towel into.

"Now that you're all freshened up, what say we run out real quick and get
you a few more things to wear, and maybe some other supplies too?"

"But I don't have any money to buy anything."

"Don't worry about it. We'll do it on the cheap and just go to a thrift
store and a drug store to buy a few essentials. Don't mistake it for pity
or charity. I'll front you the cash for now, and we'll take it out of
your first paycheck. No offense, but I can't have you showing up to work
in the same outfit for the next two weeks until you get paid. Then my
customers will think I abuse my employees by not paying them enough, and
that makes me look bad. You don't want me to look bad, do you?" I
half-jokingly asked him with a wry smile.

"No, I suppose not. Ok, fine, let's go. We won't be out long, right? I
hate shopping."

"You and me both, kid. You and me both. In fact, let's time ourselves.
Let's say we need five full outfits, one pair of work shoes, another pair
of sneakers, a toothbrush, and deodorant, and we have 45 minutes to get
it all."

"You're on!"

Being an artsy neighborhood close to a college, we had three good thrift
shops within a couple blocks, plus a nearby drug store for the
toiletries. We rushed through the stores, making snap purchase decisions
all the way, and we made it back to my place in exactly 42 minutes. I
really liked that this kid didn't like to waste time, and I think he
appreciated that about me, too.

After we returned and he unpacked his new clothes into the space I had
made for him in my closet, I suggested we go for a quick jog on the
trails along the river in town, just a few blocks away from my building.
I knew I had to get in better shape, and I figured I'd take advantage of
having an athletic young teen under my roof to push me to get my butt
moving.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Want to break in your new sneakers?"

"Good idea!" He ran back to the closet and quickly re-emerged donning his
new kicks, leaving his trusty basketball shorts and ratty T-shirt on for
the workout. I sure loved those shorts.

After hydrating and doing a few stretches, I hoped I was ready to try and
keep up with Ollie on our jog. We went only a couple miles before
doubling back, and I was happy to see that I mostly held my own. Perhaps
he was just kind enough to moderate his pace enough for his flabby
jogging companion. Before long, we returned home and I again graciously
allowed young Oliver to bound up the stairs in front of me, enjoying the
results our sweaty workout had on my favorite basketball shorts. Heading
inside, I grabbed us some water and I quickly downed mine. Looking over
at Ollie, I panted, "Thanks for going easy on me, kiddo. I'm sure you
could've gone twice as far without an old guy slowing you down."

"Haha, yeah, I guess I did a little bit. But that's okay. It was a nice
jog. I didn't know this town had such nice trails."

"You go relax for a bit, while I throw us together a little dinner. You
okay with fish?"

"Yeah, that sounds ok. You mind if I hang out in your library for a bit?"

"Go ahead. Should be ready in twenty minutes."

I threw the dinner together in short order, loaded up a couple plates,
set the table and poured us each another beer. I walked to the library
and poked my head in, finding Ollie sitting comfortably in a chair
reading a book. "Dinner's ready. You all set?"

"Yeah, I was just starting to get into this book, but I can pick it up
later. Evelyn is kind of a weird name for a guy."

"That's because he's British. They pronounce it EE-velyn. Funny people,
those Brits." Ollie had stumbled onto my cherished copy of Brideshead
Revisited by Evelyn Waugh. The kid had good taste. "I read that for the
first time in college, and have re-read it a couple times. It's one of
the favorites. Come on, let's eat."

While we sat and ate, particularly now that the kid was fully dressed
again, I decided it would be a good time for a little honesty. "There's
one thing I think I should tell you at this point, if you're going to be
staying here with me and working at my cafe. I don't want it to make you
feel uncomfortable or pressured to react in any particular way, it's just
something I think you should know."

"O...K... what is it? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no, you didn't do anything wrong. I just thought it should be out in
the open, that, well, in addition to thinking you're a good and
hard-working kid who I'm looking forward to having work for me, I think
you are an extremely attractive young man. Just needed you to know that."

He looked up, not quite making eye contact with me, as he seemed to back
up slightly in his chair. "So, you're gay or something?"

"Well, I'm not really big on labels, as then people tend to foist certain
expectations upon you for how you're supposed to act or be. You'll come
to find out I often hate being told what to do. I kind of sense the same
about you. I've been in relationships with women before, and may again in
the future. But there are just certain guys I find an intense desire to
be close to. I don't know what you call that, and I don't really care. I
just try my best to be present in the moment and to care about the people
I have in my life. And look, please don't think I'm saying I expect you
to fool around with me or something just because you're staying here and
you're working for me. I just didn't want any uncertainty to hang in the
air for you, that's all."

"I guess that doesn't really bother me. I've had gay friends and all. And
I feel like I can trust you."

"Good, that's all I want. I think I'm going to like having you around,
kid. You really seem to have a good spirit. Maybe someday you'll share
more of your story, or maybe you'll just choose to live in the present
and look toward the future. Either way is fine. Just know that you are
welcome here."

"Thanks. I don't really feel like I deserve any of this, but thanks."

"The mere fact that you don't feel entitled to anything sets you a cut
above a lot of people your age, kiddo. The world can be a tough place,
but I think you'll find that with a decent attitude, many people will
naturally want to associate with you."

He nodded to my paternalistic comments, and we finished eating while
making light small-talk. He offered to clean up the kitchen while I went
off to the bathroom to get ready for bed. It was getting a little late
for me, since I had to get up at 5:30. Returning to the living room, I
could see into the kitchen that Ollie had already cleaned it all up. I
love to cook, but I hate the cleanup. This kid is more than just a pretty
face. "Thanks for cleaning up. I really should be getting to bed. Maybe
you want to grab that book and bring it with you into the bedroom? I'm
assuming you'll be up for a bit yet, since you don't have to work until 8
o'clock."

"Yeah, of course. I don't mind dish duty. And I think I will go grab that
book." Ollie trotted off to the library, grabbed the book, turned toward
me in the living room as I set about prepping the sofa to sleep on,
wished me good night, and went into the bedroom.

"Good night, Ollie. Sleep well."

A few hours later, I was awoken by the sound of some drunken idiots on
the street below, since I had left the windows on my porch open to let in
the cool evening air. I went down the hall to the bathroom before trying
to get back to sleep. Coming back out again, I thought I could hear the
faint sound of whimpering. I approached the bedroom door, hearing the
sounds grow clearer. I lightly tapped on the door. Hearing no response, I
quietly opened the door and approached the bed. I could see Ollie, his
body covered up to the neck by only a sheet, shivering slightly and
whimpering in his sleep. I grabbed the blanket and pulled it over him,
tucking it under his chin.

He began to stir, opening his eyes groggily to see me standing beside the
bed, looking down at him. "Where am I?"

"You're safe, Ollie. In your bed. You sounded like you were having a bad
dream, so I came in and saw you shivering and pulled the blanket over
you."

He sat up and swung his feet over the side, his bare torso exposed,
nipples erect and goose bumps on his arms reacting to the cool night air.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he looked up at me, with an innocent
sadness on his sweet teenage face, softly muttering, "Oh, um, thanks. It
must've been a rough one. Would you mind, um, just sitting with me for a
minute?" In that moment, he looked so unsure of himself, like a little
boy calling out for help.

"Of course I can." I sat on the edge of the bed, next to him, with only a
couple inches between us. We sat in comfortable silence for a couple
minutes, before Ollie began to quietly sob to himself. I reached up to
his upper back, gently rubbing back and forth, whispering "Hey, you're
going to be ok. You're safe."

As if the floodgates burst, he collapsed into my side as I reached my arm
around him to hold him while he began to bawl. I didn't say another word,
just continued to hold him while he continued sobbing for a few more
minutes.

Pulling himself together, he wiped away a final tear as he sat back up
and held his head in his hands. "Oh, I feel so embarrassed, looking like
such a wimp."

"Happy to pretend it didn't happen, if that's what you want. But you
won't get any judgment from me. Everyone has to have someone in their
life they feel comfortable letting their guard down around. We can't just
walk around 24/7 looking like robots."

"Yeah, I guess not. It just all kind of hit me at once, you know?"

"I get it. Or at least I think I do. Can't imagine what you've been
through, but I sure hope you feel safe where you are now."

He chuckled lightly between sniffles, "I know I only just met you
yesterday, while I was trying to rob your shop, but yeah, I guess I do."

"Good. That makes me happy to hear. Well, I better be getting back to bed
now."

As I got up to leave, Ollie looked up from his hands and softly asked,
"Um, Jeff?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you, um, uh, do you think you could, um, well, uh, hold me while I
fall asleep? I'm not gay, I just don't want to be alone right now."

My heart beat so hard it nearly leapt out of my chest, so I took a deep
breath to calm myself and try to focus on setting aside my own desires
and just be there for this kid in need. "Sure, I can do that. You know,
Oliver, you might not have any idea just how many guys long for more
contact with each other, but act like they don't because they're afraid
of being called gay. Pretty cool that you're comfortable enough getting
past that. Nobody likes being alone, but it takes a strong man to admit
what he needs." I reassured him of this as I crawled into bed on the
other side. I scooted up next to him as he laid back down, and pulled the
sheet and light blanket over us. I put one arm under his neck for him to
rest his head on, with my other arm draped lightly over his chest,
leaving my hand resting on the pillow. I brought my bare chest up against
to his back, while leaving a respectful gap between our underwear-clad
midsections. "How's this? Comfortable enough for you?" I whispered to
him.

"Yeah. Thanks for not judging me."

"Right back at ya, kiddo."

I heard the bed shift slightly as Tom and Jerry both hopped up onto the
foot of the bed and curled up together to sleep, taking their cues from
the humans in the room. I felt Ollie's breathing slow as he relaxed in my
arms and drifted off to sleep, and I sighed contentedly at feeling his
warmth next to me as I drifted off to sleep.

TO BE CONTINUED...