Date: Mon, 9 Oct 2023 21:43:34 -0500
From: William Marshal <williammarshal5301@gmail.com>
Subject: Breach of Contract: Chapter 1

Breach of Contract

CHAPTER 1: Reunion

"Fuck off, asshole!" Ian said loud enough for everyone at the bar to hear.

"Hey, I know things didn't workout for us, but can't we at least try to be
friends?"

"So that's how you remember it, `things didn't work out for us!' Ian was
now yelling. "The way I remember it was, two weeks after YOU asked me to
marry you, YOU called it off, and announced you were crawling back into the
closet! That YOU intended go to Colorado, marry Ellen, and join her
homophobic daddy's law firm!"

It was Harvard Law School's alumni weekend, and the Charles Hotel's bar was
full of alumni. The last thing Ian wanted to do was break down and cry, so
he grabbed his Tom Collins and walked away.

Matt tried to follow, but a classmate stopped him, saying, "Harris, if I
were you, I wouldn't go after Coburn. You will only make it worse."

"But he's been ignoring me all day. We were registered for the same seminar
this afternoon and when he saw me he left."

"Look Matt, you hurt him, and Coburn isn't one to let go of shit. Why don't
you let me buy you a drink, and you can come hang with me and my boys."

Peter Stevenson and `his boys' were the party animals of the class of
2005. They could be because their families were part of the Boston
elite. They were part of the social class that "earned" a living by
inheriting. For them Harvard law degrees were just part of building their
political and social resumes.

Normally, Ian and Matt wouldn't have been part of Stevenson's circle of
friends. Ian was from an upper middle class family in a Chicago suburb, and
Matt's father was a small town lawyer and politician in Oklahoma. What got
Ian and Matt admission into the club as first year law students was that
they were both athletes. Each of them had been a star basketball player in
high school, then later went on to play college ball. Stevenson liked to
think of himself as an athlete, and he hated to lose. So, when he put
together an intramural basketball team, he went looking for ringers, and
found Ian and Matt. That's also how Ian and Matt found each other.

Ian and Matt really didn't fit in with the rest of the guys on the team, so
when they went out to celebrate a win, Ian and Matt ended up talking to
each other. The night after they won the league championship, Stevenson
kept buying round after round at Grendel's Den the team's post-win hangout.
At the end of the evening Stevenson and his boys left, leaving Ian and Matt
to find their own way home.

Ian's apartment was closest, so that's where they went. The two ended up
crashing in bed together. Nothing happened that night, but over the next
few months they hung out more and more. They studied together, went out
together, slept together, and eventually, they were together.

As it turned out, neither Stevenson nor Matt had changed since graduating
law school. Stevenson was still buying round after round, and Matt was
downing them round after round. Several times Stevenson sent one of the
boys over to talk Ian into joining them, but each time he refused. Finally,
Ian just decided he'd had enough and went up to his room. He had booked a
deluxe king room and was looking forward to getting into bed. However,
first he decided a shower would help him sleep better, or at least forget
about Matt. When he'd booked his room, Ian noticed that some of the rooms
had walk in rain showers and specifically requested one of those
rooms. Now, he thought that may have been one of the smartest choices he'd
made about the entire alumni weekend.

Ian had just finished a long shower--unlimited hot water was one of the
things Ian liked about hotels--when someone started banging on the door. He
was still wet so he threw on a robe and looked through the peephole. It was
Stevenson. "What the hell does he want?" Ian muttered to himself and opened
the door. The minute the door was open, Stevenson pushed in and then two of
his boys dragged Matt into the room and dropped him on the bed.

"What the fuck!" Ian yelled. "You can't dump him here!"

"He's too drunk to drive" Stevenson said, "and none of us are going to
drive him to whatever Econo Lodge or Motel 6 he's staying in. So, buddy
he's yours."

"Fuck no! You got him drunk, so you take him."

"Not on your life. I'm not taking him home with me. Besides you're
responsible for him being shit-face drunk."

"What..."

"Yes you," Stevenson said. "All night he kept talking about you, and how
much he'd lost the best thing in his life. Frankly, the boys kept buying
him drinks so he had something to do with his mouth other than go on and on
about you. So good luck, and I'll see you tomorrow."

When Stevenson was gone, Ian looked at Matt and all he could say was,
"shit." Ian had no idea where Matt was staying, and even if he knew, Ian
was in no condition himself to drive. For a moment, Ian thought about just
dragging Matt into the hall and calling the desk to say there was a
homeless person passed out on seventh floor, but then thought doing that to
a classmate wouldn't win him any friends that weekend.

So, Ian stripped Matt down to his boxers, hung up his suit, then rolled
Matt off the bed. He hit the floor like a bag of potatoes, much harder than
Ian actually intended. After checking that he was okay, Ian put a pillow
under his head and threw a blanket over him. When Ian crawled into bed
himself, he couldn't get to sleep, so he decided to get out his iPad and do
a little stalking, it had been years since Ian had actually checked on what
Matt was up to.

When he finally fell asleep, Ian fell soundly asleep, so he didn't notice
that sometime during the night Matt had crawled into bed with him. When he
woke up and found Matt spooning him, he went crazy.

"What the hell are you doing in my bed!?" Ian yelled and gave Matt a hard
elbow in the ribs.

"Ow! Where am..." was all Matt got out before he had to stumble his way to
the bathroom. After five minutes of worshiping at the shrine of the
Porcelain Goddess, Matt walked back into the room.

"Did you just destroy my bathroom?"

"No, I am very skilled at puking without creating a mess."

"So you've had a lot of practice?"

"Too much as of late. So how did I get here with you?"

"Uninvitedly," Ian said bitterly, "Stevenson and his posse dumped you here
last night since none of them wanted to take you home to their families."

"Thanks for taking me in...Do you know why my shoulder and arm hurt."

"That's probably from when you fell...well, I pushed you, out of bed."

"Oh.... Do you mind if I take a shower before I go?"

"Go ahead. You need one."

While Matt was showering, Ian did some more stalking. From what he could
find, Matt was still an associate at Logan, Norris, and Love. He was doing
routine trust and estate work. Ian also found out that Matt had two sons
and a daughter, and that Ellen had filed for divorce in January.

When Matt finished his shower, he stepped out of the bathroom still drying
his hair and his cock was swinging all over. Ian bit his lip, and thought,
"fucking asshole, is still hot."

Matt saw his suit hanging in the closet at grabbed it, then said, "Damn, I
must have spilled a drink on myself last night. I'd better get to my hotel
and get a change of clothes. I guess I'll miss that session on `The Present
and Future of LGBTQ+ Rights'."

"If you are serious about making that seminar, you don't have time. You can
wear one of my suits, just don't puke on it. Ian had a flair for fashion,
and soon had a suit, shirt, and tie for Matt that looked like a personal
shopper had picked it for him. "Let me get you some underwear. I would
prefer you don't go commando in one of my suits." When Ian opened the
dresser drawer, he started to reach for some black boxers, then changed his
mind and threw Matt a pink pair of bikini briefs.

"What? Is this what you wear?"

"Not to work, but I've booked a cottage in P-town for after the reunion."

Matt just smiled and slipped them on. Ian immediately knew giving those
briefs to Matt was a mistake. It would take a bottle of Tequila to get that
picture out of his mind. Ian quickly brought himself back, and tossed Matt
a new toothbrush, and said, "I usually travel with a spare." Ian then
stripped off his boxers and headed to the bathroom for his shower.

After his shower, Ian decided it was time for a little payback, so he left
the towel in the bathroom and walked out naked to see what Matt's reaction
would be. For a minute, Ian thought he would have to pick Matt's eyes off
the floor and put them back in his head. Matt was never good at looking
without obviously looking.

"That is fucking mean," Matt said.

"Well just don't make a mess in my suit."

"You have certainly kept your body fit," Matt said.

"Yep, 6'2", 42" chest, 30" waist. Based on how that suit is fitting you,
I'd say you are right there as well."

"I try."

The truth was that both Ian and Matt had model looks, although Ian was GQ,
and Matt was more Patagonia. While they had similar body frames, there were
substantial differences. When naked, aside from Matt being cut and Ian
being uncut, Ian had a full chest of hair, whereas Matt had a thin patch
between his pecs. Matt's hair was light brown, while Ian's hair was almost
black. One last thing they did have in common was blue eyes.

As Ian got dressed, Matt said, "These are some very nice suits. Are they
custom tailored?"

"Yeah, my partner and I are doing well, so I like to treat myself."

The mention that Ian had a partner made Matt's heart drop.

Just as they were about to leave, Ian turned to Matt and said, "Let me fix
your tie." As Ian adjusted the tie, Matt saw their reflection in a mirror.
Ian was wearing a steel grey suit and the two made a strikingly handsome
couple. The reflection reminded Matt of a picture he saw of two gay men
right before their wedding ceremony, and it was all Matt could do to resist
kissing Ian.

For most of the day, Ian and Matt attended different seminars. Unlike many
college reunions that are simply an opportunity to see old classmates, and
for the endowment office to ask for contributions, the Harvard law reunions
included a variety of sessions Friday afternoon and Saturday morning for
continuing education.

At the reunion luncheon, Ian had planned to meet up with several of his
moot court teammates, and Matt was again hanging with Stevenson and his
boys. After the luncheon, Ian and Matt did meet briefly to arrange for Ian
to take Matt to his hotel.

The weather was gorgeous, so after lunch Ian decided he would take some
time to just walk around campus and reminisce. He rejoined the activities
for the class photo and then it was time to take Matt to his hotel. It
turned out Matt was staying at a Red Roof Inn in Woburn which was ten miles
away.

"How do you plan to get back to Harvard for cocktails and dinner?" Ian
asked.

"Uber."

"Fuck Matt, you might as well just get all your shit and come back and stay
with me. I know what's going to happen. You'll get drunk and end up with me
anyway. Then in the morning I'm going to have to haul you back out here,
and then haul your ass to Logan so you can catch your plane."

"I appreciate the offer but won't your partner mind."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ian asked.

"This morning you said that you and your partner were doing well."

Ian burst into laughter, then said, "Not that kind of partner. Heather is
my business partner; we own a real estate development company."

"So, you're not an attorney at Preston, Robb, and Moore?"

"Just go get your stuff, and I'll explain on the way back to Cambridge."

While Matt was getting his things and checking out, Ian sat in the car and
wondered if he was making a mistake. "Surely I'm not actually going to
forgive the asshole," Ian said to himself. "He doesn't deserve it,
and...and..." Ian couldn't even say it to himself. Ten years later, the
wounds were still too tender.

On the way back to the Charles Hotel, Ian explained that his primary area
of law was real estate and development, and through that he met a new
developer, Heather Riggs, who was having problems with the Chicago
Department of Buildings. They kept holding up her permits. After Ian fixed
the problem with a few phone calls and a threat or two, they went out for
drinks to celebrate. During the course of conversation, she mentioned that
she was having trouble finding an investor for a new project.

"So, I asked her about the project," Ian said. "It sounded like a good
project, and after a bit more talking, I took the money I was saving up for
a partnership offer and invested in the project. The project turned out to
be better than successful, it was one of the hottest developments in
Chicago. We collaborated on a couple of more projects, then we decided to
form Riggs and Coburn Development, L.L.C. She deals with the hands on work
of the project, and I take care of legal and financing. I am still at
Preston, Robb, and Moore three-quarter time. We worked out a deal that lets
me work from home and only go into the office a couple of times a week."

"If you're doing so well in real estate, why did you stay on with the
firm?" Matt asked.

"Initially it was a safety net...just in case things didn't work
out. However, staying on part time gives me access to the resources of the
firm. It is amazing what kind of gravitas it gives me to have Preston,
Robb, and Moore on my card. Also, the firm's social events are a great way
to meet potential investors or clients."

"They don't mind?"

"Even less than full time, I am still one of their leading attorneys when
it comes to billable hours. One of the reasons I have so many billable
hours is I'm the guy that gets called at 3 a.m. to bail out a client or
draft an emergency injunction. I work in real estate, but every department
thinks I'm their after-hours bitch. It's such a joke in the office, that on
my last birthday they didn't sing `Happy Birthday," they played George
Strait's `The Fireman.' Vance Moore is the only partner who's not that
happy with the arrangement. He was, well still is, my mentor in the firm,
and he wants to put me up for partner, but that's not the direction I want
to go. So, to make Vance happy, I am officially listed as Special Counsel
in the firm directory." (For those not familiar with the title `Counsel.'
some firms use it to designate a lawyer who occupies a permanent senior
position in the firm with no expectation of becoming a partner.)

"Damn, nine out of ten lawyers would give their first born for a chance to
make partner, and you just turned it down."

Ian just shrugged.

Back at the Charles, Ian and Matt got ready for the evening. Matt took off
the pink bikini briefs and tossed them back to Ian.

"What's the matter? Pink not your color?"

"I can live with the color, it's the strangle hold they had on my nuts that
was the problem. How can you wear that?"

"I don't know, maybe it's that I've never worn them for more than three
hours."

"Matt smiled and said, "Why Ian, you little slut you."

"Asshole, I didn't mean it like that, and you know it."

The 2005 reunion was being held on campus, and within walking
distance. Just before they were ready to leave, Matt's phone rang. He
looked at it and said, "Go on ahead. This is Ellen, and I need to talk to
her. I'll be a while."

Ian was chatting with a group from the Gay Alumni Association when Matt
walked in and headed for the bar. Something was bothering him, but after a
drink he seemed to get himself under control. Ian decided to keep an eye on
him. Why he felt some responsibility for Matt, Ian didn't know. Ian also
noticed that Matt seemed to be exchanging business cards with a lot of
their classmates.

During the meal, Ian and Matt weren't at the same table, so Ian wasn't
aware of how intoxicated Matt was becoming. Ian was just finishing his
dessert and talking to a fellow Chicagoan, when Stevenson tapped him on the
shoulder and said, "You need to get Harris out of here. He's drunk and
people are beginning to notice."

"Fuck! Where is the asshole."

"We've managed to get him outside. Follow me."

When Ian got outside, he saw the same two guys who'd dumped Matt on his bed
the night before holding him up.

"Do you need help?" Stevenson asked Ian.

"No, I've done this a few times before."

Ian put an arm around Matt and said, "Put your arm over my shoulders. We
need to get you back to the room."

Matt mumbled something in "Drunkese" that Ian didn't understand and they
started back to the Charles. When they finally got back to the room, Ian
helped Matt get undressed and into bed. Ian then turned on the T.V. and
found an old movie. This wasn't the reunion Ian had expected, and now he
had a bigger problem: what to do with Matt in the morning?"

Ian finally crawled into bed a bit before midnight. Almost immediately Matt
rolled over and cuddled in next to him. Ian tried pushing him away several
times, but he always rolled back. Finally, Ian decided it was too much
effort to keep pushing Matt back to his side of the bed. Also, and Ian
hated admitting it to himself, it felt good to sleep next to another
person.

The next morning, Ian got up, made a breakfast reservation at the hotel's
restaurant, and hopped into the shower. When he got out of the shower, Ian
noticed that Matt's butt was sticking out from under the covers. So, with
an evil grin, Ian twisted his towel up and popped Matt. There was only a
thin layer of cotton between the biting tip of the towel and an
unsuspecting ass, and when the towel cracked, Matt yelled so loud Ian
feared they'd get a visit from the hotel staff, maybe even the cops.

"Fucking bastard! I'm going to kick your ass!" Matt said as he jumped
up. However, he fell back to the bed just as fast holding his head. Matt
had a king-sized hangover so big it was like The Rolling Stones were
playing a concert in his head.

"Come on," Ian said, and grabbed Matt's wrists to pull him up. "I have
reservations for breakfast in 30 minutes."

"What time is it?"

"7:30"

"7-fucking-30!? What's the rush?"

"I am headed for P-town and I want to get a good start. Plus, I need to get
you to the airport so you can get back to Denver."

"I'm not going to Denver."

"What do you mean, you're not going to Denver," Ian asked as he let Matt
fall back on the bed.

"Ellen is divorcing me. That phone call I got before the class banquet was
from my father-in-law. He was calling me to tell me my travel plans were
changed and I was going to Amarillo, Texas. Apparently, I'm being
transferred to the Amarillo office. I have a week to get there and report,
or they will consider it a resignation without proper notice... Damn, this
headache is killing me. A bullet would be so much faster."

"Shit!" Ian said. He didn't think Matt would kill himself, but he hadn't
seen him in ten years. The comment about a bullet being quicker was
probably just a passing comment, but Ian had no way of knowing for
sure. There was no way Ian was going to let the jerk do anything stupid,
and then be haunted by his memory the next 60 years.

Ian again grabbed Matt's arms and this time got him all the way to his
feet. Ian got Matt into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and shoved him
in.

"Fucking asshole, that's the cold water."

"I'm sorry, did you want a warm shower. Too bad, get busy scrubbing. We've
got 20 minutes to get down to breakfast."

With Ian issuing constant threats of what would happen if they lost their
reservation, Matt managed to get ready, and they made it on time. Ian
ordered two eggs scrambled, bacon, hash browns, whole wheat toast, and
black coffee. When Matt told the waiter he wasn't hungry, Ian looked at the
waiter and said, "Bring him what I'm having."

When the waiter brought two cups of coffee, Ian told Matt to take a
drink. It wasn't until Matt was on his second cup of coffee that Ian asked
Matt what he was going to do.

"I don't know, but I do know I'm not going to Amarillo."

"Is that why you were exchanging cards with everyone at the banquet last
night?"

"Yeah, I've seen the handwriting on the wall ever since Ellen filed for
divorce. I have always been treated like a stray mutt in that law firm, but
recently it's gotten worse. Ellen's father made it abundantly clear I had a
snowballs chance in hell of ever making senior associate, let alone
partner. The house is actually owned by the family trust, so I have no
claim on it. Her father made me sign a prenup and basically, I get,
$125,000 from Ellen in the divorce. I am also supposed to get $150,000
severance from the firm if they let me go, but if I don't take the
transfer, they will see it as a resignation and I won't get that. I do have
joint custody of the kids, and I'm sure that's why I am being transferred
to Amarillo. Aside from being in the middle of the Texas panhandle, it will
make it impossible for me to exercise my parental rights. So, I'm just
fucked."

"So, can you go back to Oklahoma and partner with your father?"

"I wish, but three years ago I told him to sell the practice, that I was
settled in Denver. So he sold it and he and mom bought a cabin on Grand
Lake. I could stay with them for a while, but that's just like having loser
tattooed on my forehead. I'd rather die."

"Matt, that's your second reference to dying in the last half-hour, and
I've seen you more drunk than sober this weekend. Are you going to be
alright?"

"Sure buddy, you know me... sometimes I just say things. I'll be fine. I
just have to figure out where I'm going to land for a few days, get out
some feelers to firms looking for associates, kiss a few asses, and I''ll
be back on my feet."

Alarms were going off in Ian's head, and there was no way he was leaving
Matt alone in Boston. Ian still didn't believe Matt would attempt suicide,
but that didn't mean he wouldn't try to drink himself to death. So, Ian
took a deep breath and said, "Why don't you come to Provincetown with
me. We can chill for a bit, then you can go back to Chicago with me and put
out some feelers there. It will be a chance for you to get a fresh start."

"That's generous, but why?" Matt said defensively. "You made it perfectly
clear you still hate me when we first met at the reunion. Then you let me
stay with you this weekend, and now this. What am I missing? I don't need
your pity or your handouts. I can take care of myself."

"First of all, I still hate you, but that doesn't mean I can't care what
happens to you. It's called being a human being. Second, I don't do pity. I
will keep a tab, and you will pay for your room, board, and anything else I
invest in you, plus interest. I'm starting with the cost of dry cleaning my
suit you wore."

Matt nodded, and all Ian could think was, "What have I gotten myself into."

_______________________________________________________________

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