Date: Wed, 3 Jan 2024 14:38:08 -0500 From: Ronald Speener Subject: Chrysalis Part 2-Chapter 28 Chrysalis Part 2-Chapter 28 This story is about a young man's quest to fix a major birth defect--he was born without a penis. On his quest he meets challenges, his soul mate and many other soon to be friends. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any real person is coincidental. The story depicts procedures and practices common for gender reassignment; however, this story does not claim to be a medical treatise, and information is primarily for the purpose of the story and not medical advice. This story is written for adults with adult themes. If you are underage or live in a location where references to gay relationships or transgender people is forbidden, please log out of the story or move. This work is copyrighted by Boethiuscell@gmail.com © 2023 All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and retrieval system, without the written permission of the copyright owned to the extent permitted by law. Please contribute to Nifty. They do a great job of providing stories that please the senses, titillate the mind, and expand our view of the world. Chapter 28--Ariel's Opening "Beach- In 10 minutes Shower at 110 degrees." Chris pulled himself out of bed noticing that he was still mostly dressed. He glanced over at Boyd, who was still in jeans but shirtless. "Sir-Status of the young man in your bed?" Chris imagined that Beach's tone was condescending and disapproving. Or was it just the British accent? Chris was not sure what Beach wanted, then it dawned on him "Beach-status is friend." "Does the friend have a name?" Definitely condescending and smug. Chris was not sure he liked that tone, but that was for another day. "Boyd Cranston" Chris's tone intentionally conveyed annoyance. He was curious if the computer could tell the difference "Duly noted and registered"; the tone was neutral. Chris walked into the bathroom, brushed his teeth and stepped into the 110-degree shower. The water cleansed his hair, face, shoulders, and on down his torso to run in rivulets down his legs into the drain. The last few days in St. Croix were exciting but exhausting. This was only the third time he had been in the shower, and the first two were rushed. He saw a small computer screen just inside the shower stall. "Massage" Chris said, four shower heads, two above and one front and back, began to pulse and rotate. Chris sighed in pleasure. "Mind if I join you?" Boyd peeked his head shyly inside the shower. Chris pulled him in. "This your place?" Boyd asked as Chris sudsed Boyd's back. Chris turned around and did the same to Boyd's chest. "Yes." Tom and Chris had played in the shower in Chicago, but with Boyd it was different. Tom was experience; Boyd was more innocent. Tom was controlled; Boyd was tentative and tender. Chris was not sure how this time with Boyd would affect his relationship with Tom. Chris was not even sure why he was allowing Boyd into his personal space. Was it revenge for Toby? He did not think so. There was just something about Boyd that needed love. Boyd sat on a stool in the bathroom watching Chris attached his prosthetic. Chris asked if this is what Boyd wanted. "Yes." Chris inflated his prosthetic to full girth. "That is one monster." both laughed, but it was not an erotic laugh, more an embarrassed laugh. Chris took Boyd to his bed. The foreplay was soft and delicate until Chris entered Boyd. Boyd screamed in pleasure and so did Chris as the device also stimulated him. Sweaty and sated Chris kissed Boyd tenderly on the lips. "Thank you Chris." Boyd sat up on the edge of the bed, hunched over both hands on his head softly sobbing. "I wanted you to be my last." Chris slide next to Boyd and put an arm around his shoulder. "Last what." "My last fuck, my last cock in my ass." Boyd cried harder. Chris allowed him to cry it through. When the sobs subsided, "Why is this your last fuck. What are you planning?" "I'm getting married." Chris held the silence. "I got a girl pregnant. We got drunk, and we thought I should try it, once." The laugh that followed was hard. "Just once and wham." The look he gave Chris was a lost soul. "Her dad is insisting." "What do your parents say?" "They would prefer not. My mom wants a paternity test, but why would Lizette lie?" "Before you make such a life altering decision, you should follow your mother's advice, just to ease her mind. Lizette will be her daughter-in-law and the child will be her grandbaby. You mother needs to know it is yours without doubt otherwise she could reject the child. You do not want that?" "No." "Are you gay Boyd or bi?" "Gay very gay." "Does Lizette know?" "Yes, I told her before we had sex." "She have a boyfriend or had a boyfriend?" "Yes, have." Boyd looked down at his hands, "Had." "Do you have a boyfriend?" "Paul, more friends with benefits." "How has he reacted to this?" "He is mad. Not at me but her. He never liked her. Thought she was a slut. Paul wants me to tell her to go to hell. But I can't do that. I have to be responsible and face the consequences of my dick's action." "Did you enjoy sex with Lizette?" "It was okay. I was able to get it up and deliver on performance." Boyd's wry smile convinced Chris that women were not an object of affection. "Did you like her breasts." "They were okay. They didn't do anything for me." "Mine didn't either," Chris's slight humor relaxed Boyd a little. "Did Lizette like it?" "She said it was the best she ever had. You would have thought I was superman by how she went on." "She ever ask you to have sex again." "No, she acted distant afterwards. In fact, I wondered why she wanted to have sex with me. She had a boyfriend, a real jock, a real loser. I know they messed around before me." "Do you want Lizette to be happy?" Boyd looked at Chris confused by the question. "Of course." "Do you think you will be able to make her happy when you will not be like a hetero couple. You may be walking down the street holding hands, but you will be lusting after every man that walks by. Will that make her happy? When you are in bed with her being intimate, and you're thinking about her being a man, will that make her happy?" "I don't know. I can learn. I suppose." "The feeling you have with Paul, will you have the same with her? Don't you think she deserves the same?" Boyd sat silent on the bed. "Sir." Beach's sonorous voice interrupted. "It is 8:45 and you need to be at Silent Models at 10." "Beach-can Rosie make coffee?" "Yes sir but her skills are sorely lacking." Beach criticized a fellow robot. "Have her do so." "Who are you talking to?" Boyd said looking around the room. "My butler." Chris grinned. "You have a butler." "Yeah--virtual. It's a computer program. Let's dress and have some breakfast." "What is that?" Boyd took a step back away from a cylindrical contraption on wheels with lights around the top and four holes in the side. "That must be Rosie, my maid." Boyd did not quite understand the statement. "I've only been here since Friday. Didn't know she existed until Sunday. "Rosie--say hi to Boyd." "Hi to Boyd" While Beach's voice was almost natural what emitted from Rosie was tin speakers. "Very literal," Chris chuckled and grabbed coffee for the two and a couple of bagels from the fridge. "Rosie you can dock." The maid collapsed into itself like a folding telescope until it was only two feet high and went rolling down the hall to a slot under a set of bookshelves. Beach was right; Rosie made terrible coffee. Since they were running late, Chris called a cab. "Your place is way too cool." Chris smiled waiting. "I know models can make decent money, but that place is well beyond what I could afford, and I've been modeling since I was six. Inheritance?" That last comment tickled Chris, he snorted. "Not from my parents. I might get a boot from them." Chris giggled at the pun. "No, a gift, but I don't know who from. Very not a sugar daddy, drugs, or prostitution involved." "An anonymous gift. You must have impressed someone Chris." "Yeah, it has me baffled too. Know a couple of homeless guys before I met Tom, so not them." Boyd's face was blank at the name. "Tom Greenwood, model for Corbett and Steinholtz. The agency I work for and now you." Boyd was still clueless. "You'll meet him today." I told Boyd a sanitized version of my meeting Tom and then Stu and then a contract. They pulled up in front of Silent Models as Katil walked to the door. He stopped to wait for them. Chris gave the driver a large tip. "You didn't pay cab fare?" Boyd looked at Chris concerned. "Yeah, I have free cabs if I use Jazz Cabs and perform at Jazzabel's once or twice a month." Boyd stood still causing Chris to halt and wait. Boyd's stance was one between awe and fear. Obviously Chris was in something deep, should he run or try to help. Katil held the door and then peppered Boyd and Chris about the meeting; they shared their ignorance. Chris was familiar with the meeting room since this is where he usually met with Cynthia and her team. Today, the layout was different, one head table and three rows of chairs. Cynthia, Adam Levitt, Stu and Helga were buzzing around the head table. Helga, seeing Chris, rushed to him and gave him a generous hug and a kiss on the check. That caused heads to swivel. She pulled Chris away to talk to Stu, leaving Boyd and Katil hanging. Stu hugged Chris affectionately, which caused a murmur. Angled from the table were six chairs occupied by Miriam, Gorky, Dorn and Sledge. Chris was instructed to take one of these chairs. Miriam and Gorky immediately pounced on Chris for the latest gossip and thoughts on his last location shoot. Tom waltzed in a few minutes later, saw Chris, joined him. The kiss from Tom unnerved Chris because it was intimate. Chris sat next to Tom, who wanted to chat, but Chris's eyes sought Boyd, who was sitting with Katil and three women Chris did not know. Cynthia gathered everyone's attention, starting the meeting. Stu was introduced; he told everyone how proud he was of the work Silent Model does, and how he wants to expand our reputation for professional and talented models. Adam Levitt spoke about his role as the money guy. Helga was brief about personnel, benefits, etc. that everyone would receive a full packet by next Monday; Adam would help with any questions. Miriam and Gorky were introduced, and then Tom and Chris for "all the dirt"--a direct quote, which produced chuckles. An extravagant lunch from Gato was served including paella, crab risotto, pizza with lamb sausage, mussels in a saffron linguine, and three deserts. Chris could not decide his favorite between the espresso bread pudding or the walnut cake. After lunch, Gorky and Dorn did a slide show similar to what Gorky did in Chicago, but it combined the work of both agencies. The photo of Boyd and Chris in St. Croix was included. Comments were loud and inappropriate at that one. Tom squinted at Chris. Chris was not sure if it was pride, admiration, lust, or jealousy, but then Chris decided that he didn't care what Tom thought. Tom squeezed Chris's knee. Chris struggled to ignore it. Question and answer followed. Q: "When does the merger become official?" A: Stu, "As of Monday. May 18." Q: "Will there be a name change?" A: Adam, "Yes, while Corbett & Steinholtz is well known in Chicago and the Midwest, it is mostly new to New York, and will be in LA, which will be a further expansion. After testy debate over a new name, the board decided on Hangers." Groans and protestations sounded. Adam grinned, "No, just joking. It's Dreamweavers." That was only moderately better received than Hangers. Q: Chicago only hired male models, will that be here too? A: Cynthia. "The entire company is now coed." A few if the female models audibly sighed relief. Q: "Will we get new contracts?" A: Adam, "Yes" Q: "Are there any non-compete or morality stipulations?" A" Stu, "There is strong non-compete requirements. We do reserve the right to loan you out. If you are asked to make a charity appearance, you just need to let Helga or Adam know. We encourage that type of community participation. As for morality--overrated, but we will not tolerate any behavior including drugs that interfere with your ability to do the job or jeopardize the reputation of the company. Each of you represent Dreamweavers; if you, by your actions, hurt our reputation, it hurts all of us and our jobs." A few more questions were fielded, many just plain stupid. The standard comment is that there are no stupid questions, that may be true, but there are many stupid people asking them. The official meeting ended and gift bags were given out. A small velvet bag with silver Dreamweavers pin, a pen set with the Dreamweavers logo, and silver business card case. Chris was amazed that inside were cards had his name on it with the title Talent. People were still milling around, but the major business was done. "We need to get home and change for Ariel's opening," Chris said looking at his watch; he finally indulged and bought three watches, a Louis Erard Sports Watch, a Fossil for every day, and a Baume watch for dress. Tom and Chris hailed a taxi, Boyd joined them. Tom thought it odd, but said nothing since Chris said nothing. Chris dropped Tom off at his place saying he would be back to pick him up by 5:30. The gallery did not open until 7:30 that night, but Chris wanted to help Ariel. Chris explained to Boyd that Ariel was Tom's cousin, and she had an opening for a new exhibit at her art gallery. Chris invited Boyd. Boyd hesitated, he had nothing to wear except jeans and tan pants that made his rump ready for roasting. Chris found him a jacket in his closet that paired well with jeans and a T-shirt. Just a few month ago, Chris's fashion sense was whether or not his clothes were clean, now he worried about appearance. Change is good, Chris thought, painful but good. "Hey Chaz," Chris said as he crawled into the cab with Tom. "Looking delicious." Chaz was wearing a green watered silk jacket with an off green brocade of dragons and lotus blossoms on the wide lapels. His shirt was a solid green that matched the lighter shade of the dragons. "Ted at Tuxed In." Chaz turned in his seat to show Chris, who sat on the other side of Boyd. "He is crazy busy after your photo was in the paper. But I mentioned your name and behold--sartorial splendor." Chaz laughed and gave Boyd a good first look. Chris introduced Boyd as a co-work who was staying with him because of work commitments. Chaz gave a quick glance at Tom who sat in the front seat to see if there was a rift between Tom and Chris. Tom faced forward ignoring the guys in the back. Boyd gave Chaz a quick hi and then faced forward ignoring the conversation between Chaz and Chris, which was mostly about art work for Chris's place. He wanted to hit galleries on Saturday and Sunday to finish the place off. When Chaz casually mentioned that he still had over $200,000 for art. Boyd's attention turned to Chris then a sly glance at Chaz, then eyes front. The four pulled out of the cab in front of Ariel's Gallery. The door to the gallery was locked. Tom knocked and a young man in a waitstaff uniform informed Tom that the gallery would not be open until 7:30. He turned and walked away. Tom pounded on the door. He came back. Tom yelled to get Ariel Greenwood. The young man nodded nonchalantly and disappeared. Ariel appeared and effusively apologized for the young man. Hugs from Chris and Tom silenced her. She looked from Chris, to Chaz, to Boyd to Tom. "Shit Tom, you look like an old man against these three." She studied Boyd carefully. Chris introduced him. Boyd stuck out his hand, but Ariel pulled him into a hug. "Any friend of Chris's deserves a hug." She smiled at Boyd. "That is the look for tonight." She held Boyd out at arm length. "Granted Chaz and Chris look hot, especial Chris without a shirt, but this opening is young and fashion forward." Boyd looked flummoxed by the attention. "Ma'am." "Ariel please." "Ariel, this is really Chris's doing. I am a tag along and needed something fast." "Some of the best is spontaneous." Ariel grabbed Boyd's arm and dragged him away from the rest. She was curious about him and Chris. Boyd looked back in appeal, Chris thought at him, until he saw the direction of the look was more toward Chaz. Chris found Louis and Ollie and asked if he could help. They refused, not wanting food stains on his tux. He returned to Chaz and Tom, who looked guilty and abruptly changed whatever they were talking about. "Boyd your new love interest?" Chaz asked. Tom cringed. "Might be," Chris had a way of smiling that was both innocent and mischievous. "I've not had any other offers. Just because a guy spends the night in my bed does not make him my boyfriend." Chris intentionally excluded Tom from the comment. "Did you have sex with him." The tone was far more aggressive than Tom intended. Chris chose to ignore the tone. "Yes," in Chris's best Southern belle voice. "Did he fuck you?" Tom didn't know why he was angry and hurt. "No," Chris turned to Tom. "Although it is none of your business what I do in my bed. I made love to him because he wanted it, because he needed it." Tom was flustered and did not know how to respond. Chris grabbed his crotch. "This big boy inflates and can satisfy any ass." Chaz turned back to look at Chris's crotch after staring at Boyd's lower backside, which peeked out under the jacket. "You can fuck with it?" Chaz asked sincerely curious. "Better than you because it does not go soft until I allow it to." Chris rounded on Tom. "When you become an adult, I may fuck you." Chris pulled Chaz away from a stupefied Tom. Chris leaned in to whisper to Chaz. "Boyd's got a great ass." Chaz agreed. "The rest of the body is great too. And he is gay and finds you attractive." "Are you matchmaking?" Chaz lightly laughed, pulling Chris's arm leading toward Boyd. "Yes, but there are complication. He is too chivalrous for his own good." "Ah, a lady involved?" "Yes, a succubus." Chris patted Chaz's arm. "But you may be the exorcist." Arriving at Boyd and Ariel's side, Chris gently eased Chaz next to Boyd. Ariel's eyes followed the motion; she hid a grin. "Ariel, you got a few minutes?" She nodded yes; Chris slid her away. "Matchmaking?" she asked. Matchmaking was one of her hobbies. She looked back at Boyd and Chaz. "Yeah, a good connection." She grabbed Chris's arm and headed toward Tom, who stood like a lost child in the middle of a Christmas store rush. "Now let's soften Tom up." Chris loved this woman; she was so devious. "You look." Ariel paused, "dapper tonight." Tom was not sure that was a complement. "Boyd is sure a hottie. Nice ass on him too." "A good fuck, believe me." Chris added. Ariel slapped Chris's hand lightly, "Bad boy, you're not supposed to kiss and tell." "I don't tell all the time." Chris looked at Tom and grinned. Tom realized that Chris and Ariel were toying with him but didn't know how to stop it. Ollie interrupted. "I want you to sample the canapes before we serve them." The tray had eight different items, three of each. Louis brought flutes of sparkling wine. The three found a small cluster of chairs and sat. Conversation shifted to the show and artists between urging to try the various edibles. Each bite was beyond Ariel's expectation: edgy, dainty, and delectable. Slim and Zoe found them. After greetings, Ariel left with them to discuss the location of paintings. Ariel did not like grouping a gallery by artists but by building a flow; she wanted Slim's final approval, as she did with most artists. Her opinion was always final, and usually correct. Tom shifted uneasy next to Chris. "You fucked Boyd." Chris hoped this was not a repeat of earlier. "No, I did not fuck him I made love to him." "Why?" "He has a nice ass." Tom knew Chris and knew that that was not a sufficient reason for Chris. "Cut the crap Chris why?" "He asked me to. No begged me to. It was very important to him, and so I did." "Did he say why it was important." "Yes, he saw my prosthetic and ..." Chris did not know how to finish the statement without sounding crass or prurient. "Boyd is a very tender soul, who is fragile right now." Chris did not know how far he should go with explanation. "I am physically attracted to Boyd; we shared a room in St. Croix. Nothing happened there." Chris hastily added. "But Boyd has made a decision, a very wrong decision, and last night I could not deny him. If someone is cut and bleeding you bind the cut. Boyd's cut is in his soul, and if sharing myself with him eased his soul then." Chris looked at Tom for understanding; the anger had left but acceptance had not. "For me, sex is about more than an orgasm. For me it is about a deeper connection. It is a bonding, even if it is for a little while. When I was on the street and sold myself, I never sold myself just for the sex. It was always because the man needed more than to get his rocks off." Tom looked over at Boyd, trying to understand Chris. And then at Chaz's hand gently resting on Boyd's shoulder. He smiled. "You just pawned Boyd onto Chaz." "I did no such thing." Chris was indignant at the suggestion. "They are a match. They are meant for each other. They need to connect and develop before Boyd does something very, very stupid." "You're as bad as Ariel." Tom pulled Chris into a hug and a kiss. "Ariel says I'm worse," Chris pulling out of Tom's kiss. "We okay." "Yes and no." Tom held Chris at arm's length by the shoulder. "Yes, I am okay with what you and Boyd did; I am in no position to tell you no. But no because every time I think I have you figured out; you shift." "I never want you to totally figure me out." Chris took Tom's fingers to his lips and kissed each one. "Quit mooning over each other. I need help." Ariel stood in front of Chris and Tom, hands on hips and a smile in her eyes. Still have a few pieces to hang, placards placed by the pieces, and chairs rearranged for people to sit and view art." "Yes, sir." Chris pooped up with a salute. Ariel gave him a playful punch to the shoulder. He went off to find Boyd and Chaz. "You and Chris good?" Ariel asked as Tom stood and took her elbow. "Yes, I think so." Tom stood straighter. "It is just that Chris does stuff that baffles me at times. I want to disapprove, chastise, or minimize, but he always seems to know exactly what he is doing." "And he is so damn cute." Ariel added. "That he is. That he is." Tom looked affectionately at Chris talking to Chaz and Boyd. At 7:00 Cedrick arrived, and 7:30 the doors opened to a small crowd waiting outside. The weather was a bit nippy so the crowd was happy to get in. Chris and Tom played hosts with Ariel. A string trio played softly. Chet and his parents arrived. Britney with Benjie on her arm entered with Steph, Hunter, Hannah, Jessica, Pedro, and Dalton in tow. Helen and Hector soon followed. Hector immediately spotted Chet and went to his side where he was introduced to Chet's parents. Chris smiled as he watched Chet place a hand around Hector's hips. Nineish Derrek and Rami sauntered in. Chris was so busy greeting, handing out programs, answering questions that he lost track of his sister nor did he see Cynthia until she spun him around for a hug and a kiss. "Mighty sexy look Chris. Didn't think you so daring as to go shirtless." "A sacrifice for the sake of art." He stepped back. "Do you like the look? I was going to wear a black silk T-shirt, but when Ted gave this to me he suggested shirtless. It feels funny. Not in a bad way but out of comfort zone way. But you like it?" "Absolutely." She pulled Chris to an empty sofa. "How are you doing Chris, on a personal level?" Chris was cautious about the question and said fine. "Adam and I, and by the way I do like him--smart and funny, looked at the pictures from the special project and St. Croix. We want you to be the face for the agency here in New York." Chris raised a hand to protest. "I already spoke to Stu and Helga and agree that it is a good plan. We can talk about it Monday." "Monday's Memorial Day." "Right, Tuesday then. It will be a separate contract from the modeling one you now have. We are turning down requests for your services; your reputation is getting out there. The newspaper photo was a big boast. A couple of fashion magazines have expressed interest in a brief interview. I have put them off, but it would be good for everyone." Cynthia paused and saw the deer in headlight look on Chris. "We can talk about this on Tuesday." Cynthia slipped back into the crowd. "Brown nosing," Boyd said with a grin as he and Chaz sat down on the sofa. "No, I need to meet with her and Adam on Tuesday about my schedule. It seems I am booked for the foreseeable future." "Is that good or bad?" asked Chaz. Chris was not sure and said so. Chaz knew the feeling of being overextended with moving his company to New York. He smiled at Chris, grabbing his elbow. "Let's shop. That always perks me up, especially when it is not my money. I saw several things you might like for your place Chris. The three rose with Chaz between Chris and Boyd; Chaz's hand was in the back pocket of Boyd's jeans. Chris leaned into Chaz's ear. "Getting very familiar with my friend." Chaz chuckled and said "Hope to get more familiar latter." The show had fourteen artists with several pieces by each. Chris met and chatted with a couple of the artist: Louis Fratino, Todd Yaeger, and Kerstin Brätsch. Chaz liked a Luke Diiorio abstract of Green horizontal lines of wide brush strokes; he thought it would look nice in the master bedroom. Chris considered it, but he was not going to buy any to match the decor; he wanted to like it for what it says. Chaz reluctantly agreed. Shanequa Gay had a portrait of an African American man in yellows and blues that Chris liked, maybe for the office, Chaz suggested and put it on a list. Shane Bradford's Red and Gold Interior with the red vertical waves on panels intrigued Chris, but it was almost 6 feet long by 4 feet high. Chaz suggested on the long hall going to the office opposite the bookshelves. Chris tracked down his sister and Benjie tittering over a Genieve Figgis painting "Yes Captain". It was reminiscent of Fragonard but with the influence of Matisse. However, the theme of boudoir tryst between a red coat soldier and an unclad lady was not in any way decorous. The two are clearly having anal intercourse. "Thinking of that as a present for the parents?" I asked from behind them startling them. "You scared the crap out of me," Britney said jerking around to face Chris, "hi". Chris kissed her on the cheek to apologize. "Your sister needs to experience the world more. This painting is rather tame compared to some I have seen." Benjie was enjoying the role of worldly New Yorker. "Do you think I should buy it and send it as a Christmas present to the folks?" "Dad might like it but Mom would freak." "I think it might be reverse. Dad would freak; you know how uptight he is about sex. If I included the price tag, Mom would hang it proudly." "She is shallow that way. She took all the grooming urges to be a perfect hostess out on you. I never saw you many days, she had you so booked with piano, ballet and art lessons. And then Dad with his martial arts. They were afraid when I got old enough that I might want a gender change if they pushed the same." Chris enjoyed his sister's cynicism. "I appreciate you saving me from that." "Have you enjoyed your visit to New York?" Chris asked. "Sorry that I was not here for most of it." "I missed you too, but you were in St. Croix." She bounced on her toes at that. "But yes it has been great, Benjie has been very helpful. He saved us a couple of times from disaster.' Chris wanted to gag at the look she gave Benjie. "Least I could do for my man Chris." Benjie looked at Britney with the same calf eyes. "You head back to Chicago." Chris emphasized the word Chicago to let both know that the dalliance was ending. "What time?" Pulled back from adoration of Benjie's nostrils, Britney said, "Flight is at 4:30 but we leave for the airport at 2." "Want to spend the night at my place. I can get you to the hotel by noon." Britney was absolutely in favor. Chris found Glenda talking to Ariel. "Glenda," I interrupted, which she did not like. "I am sorry to intrude but I was wondering if Britney could spend the night at my place. I will have her back to the hotel well before you leave for the airport tomorrow." "No," was her curt reply. She saw Britney's shocked face. And approached the topic softer. "That came off harsher than I wanted. I know she is your sister and will be safe with you, but she is a minor and I am not sure that your parents would approve. Their reasons may be bogus, but they are still responsible." Chris nodded with understanding, but Britney was crushed, which made Glenda feel guilty. Hector and Chet had walked over to chat with Chris and heard the conversation. "I have an idea," Hector said. "A major part of the trip is to experience the culture of New York. If several students did a live-in experience, would that be acceptable?" Helen thought a bit, then her eyes twinkled. "They would need a chaperone, one of us present. That would work." Quickly Jessica, and Hannah agreed. Naturally Steph and Hunter volunteered. "I don't know about you guys." Chris looked at Steph and Hunter. "I only have two bedrooms. And no, you are not sleeping with me." Chris wanted to forestall that scenario. He hated seeing the two teens pout. He pushed a button on his phone. "Beach-I need sleeping arrangements for beyond the two bedrooms, Is there space in the living room?" A clipped British accent responded. "Sir one sofa in the living room transforms into a queen bed. Will that do. Or if not the storage room currently has space." "Beach-please have Rosie place appropriate bedding in the living room." "Yes sir." "We are all set." I looked at Hector and Chet. "Hector, you will be the chaperone?" He nodded. "You can sleep on the sofa and the boys in the storage room." Hunter's frown said it all. "The storage room is very large, mostly empty, has a nice view of the park and is private." Steph nudged Hunter in the ribs and grinned. "Are the arrangements acceptable to you Glenda?" Boyd, Chaz and Tom walked up. "We need to look at some of the works for your place before we leave, Chris." Chris could tell that Chaz was anxious to leave...with Boyd. Chaz pulled Chris's arm toward a painting. Britney and the other four teens followed. I selected four items with two maybes. The works would be in the Gallery for a few months so haste was not needed. Swiftly Chris chose Gabriele Beveridge's "Adham Faramawy"; he liked the look of the blue green dried clay and the young man on the phone. "Wildlife" by Shanequa Gay with the blues and yellows and the painting bifurcated between an African male and a deer. Chaz insisted he needed some sculptural works; "Earth Mask (Portrait)" spoke to Chris. Chaz thought if it were mounted on a base it would look spectacular on the piano. Finally, Chris chose two by Slim, not because they were friends but because the work was spectacular. Chaz said Slim's work would appreciate in value after this show. Chris chose a sculpture in aluminum and white marble; "Water Dancers" had all the sinuous curves of Bernini or Da Vinci's water drawings. At over 4 feet tall, it was impressive, more impressive was how the aluminum flowed in and out of the marble like they were one. The other, "Today is Tomorrow's Yesterday", was a multimedia of stained glass, glued colored tissue over newspaper clippings in an ornate Gothic frame. The whole work was backlit and over 7 feet tall by 4 wide. That was going on the dining room wall. Slim had refused to sell anything, although he had multiple offers on all of his work and requests for notice of future showings until Chris had first choice. When Slim offered discounts, Chris adamantly refused saying it was all coming out of a designated budget that was not his money. Slim and Zoe insisted on coming over to Chris's to install the works. Since it was Memorial Day weekend, Chris offered to "Cristen the grill" on Monday. "You just spent over 35 grand," Hunter said in awe. Steph was occupied talking to Todd Yeager and his mythological hotties. Chaz bought one of his works; "Nicolay", a young man shirtless in ripped jeans. Chris thought the portrait looked a little like Boyd, the same attitude hiding innocence. The gang from Britney's school left for the hotel to change and grab a few things before spend the night at Chris's. Chris said he would call when he left the gallery and arrange for a cab to be at the hotel. Chris would pay. Chris assured Glenda that the kids would behave, no booze or drugs. Her parting comment was to make Hector behave, which might be more problematic. Hector was leaning on Chet's shoulder. As the crowd started to thin out, Chet's parents found Chris chatting with Cedrick. "Hi Chris." David Donaldson extended his hand to Chris and then to Cedrick. "Nice to see you again in person. The China project is moving along." He said to Chris. Mary Donaldson pulled Chris aside while the two men talked business. "Seems my son has met his match." She tilted her head toward Chet and Hector. Hector had one arm protectively around Chet's hip, pulling him close. "Make a nice-looking couple. Pity he is in Chicago." Chris grinned turning Mary's face close to his. "Hector mentioned that he is finishing his PHD in Art History next month." Mary nodded impressed. "He hinted that he might like to move to New York. He likes what he found here." The look of joy and relief zipped through Mary's face and then into her posture. "They are a good match." Chris said as he and Mary watch the two. "And I am never wrong." "What you two conniving about?" David said. "Can't be good if Chris is involved." Cedrick put in. "Hey." Chris blurted. "I am always up to good." He gave a Cheshire grin, "Even if others don't know it." Chet and Hector walked up, joining the group. "You talk'n `bout us?" Chet asked with a broad Brooklyn accent. "Absolutely," Chris hugged Chet. Hector tensed at the show of affection. "Don't worry bro." Chris turned to Hector. "Purely friends. He took me to my first leather biker bar. Can't get more bro' bonded than that." "And you made a solid impression. Chet took me there too. Love the place, can't wait to move here." His brown eyes met Chet's hazel, if there were something like eye fucking that was it. Breaking away Hector eyes went back to Chris. "Left a solid impression on them. They kept asking when Chet was bringing you back." "I liked them too, but too intense for me." Chris was not sure that was a totally honest answer. "Chet's bring you to my place? You know what you told Glenda." "I'll bring Hec on my hog." Chet snickered. "I like how that sounds. We'll get them settled then split for my place and be back around 9." Hector nodded agreement as his hand slipped inside the back of Chet's yellow leather pants. Chet's mother noticed and smiled at Chris. "What?" Chet asked Mary, who replied she just had a pleasant thought but did not elaborate. Ariel was interrupted by the waitstaff. The crowd had thinned to just a few stragglers. Sales needed to finalized, the artists, who were present reassured, and the place cleaned for opening tomorrow at noon. Cedrick offered to help her. Zoe and Slim bounced into Chris's group with Chaz and Boyd. Slim and Zoe were flying high because sales were great and commission pieces were requested. They were also pairing with Chaz on his projects. Both kissed Chris on the check and said they would see Chris Monday, about 11:00. The Donaldsons said their farewell, Mary kissing both Chet and Hector on the cheek--Hector blushed. Chaz asked Tom what his sleeping arrangements for the night were. Tom looked at Chris. "Tom is staying with me tonight, guess that leaves you alone in Tom's apartment." Chris brushed a shoulder against Boyd. "Hope you are not afraid to stay alone in his creepy apartment?" Chaz played into Chris's playfulness. "It is terrible frightening. I may need a big strong man to protect my delicate ass." Tom snorted at the word delicate. Boyd looked around. "Where do you see a big strong man?" Chaz turned Boyd around to face him full front. "Only a big strong man could make me melt like you do." A chorus of "Aahs" greeted that comment. Boyd blushed, turned to face the group, stepped back into Chaz's chest; Chaz's arms encircled Boyd. "Chris, I bought my first piece of art." Boyd needed to change the topic. "Chaz said it was a good investment, but I don't think he liked it. It is the cat with a skateboard. Took a major dent in my bank account, but I like it." "It by Haroshi, Japanese." Chaz add, "He works in used skateboards. So, this goofus needed to buy it. He just needs the right place for it, not a bedroom." Chaz pulled Boyd closer. "We need to leave; things to do." Chaz's grin was lecherous. "Mean Boyd to do." Tom enjoyed teasing Chaz. Boyd blushed again making his tan skin ruddy brown. "See you tomorrow early afternoon, Chris, for art shopping." Chris gave a half groan; he liked art shopping with Chaz. "Never seen Chaz so smitten." Tom said to Chris. "I am happy for both." Chris hoped he could free Boyd from the mess he created for himself. Boyd needed Chaz too. Ariel and Cedrick returned with Louis and Ollie. A young man was just locking the door after the last stragglers. A young woman, tall and willowy in a black cocktail dress, brought a tray of bubbly. The man from the door, joined them. Ariel offered a toast, "To one of my best openings, thanks everyone for your help." Glasses clinked. "I need to introduce you to my Gallery staff. This is Marsha and Seldon." Handshakes were exchanged. "Let's call it a night. Chris, mind if I stop by in the morning. Cedrick and I fly out to California, Sunday, so mind if we stop by tomorrow, late morning to see your new place." Chris mentioned taking Britney and her friends back to the hotel; early afternoon was agreed upon. Louis and Ollie gave Chris several boxes of leftover food with a comment to feed the brood converging on his place. Chris invited the pair to the cookout, but they were working. On the way home, Chris ordered pizza, sent a cab to the hotel, and texted his sister. Chris sat with Tom, Chet and Hector in the living room, while the five teenagers in the next room chattered away while watching Netflix. There was an innocence, companionship, and exuberance to high schoolers as they voraciously devoured the pizza and nibbles from Louis. Chris had missed all that: high school crushes, shared lingo, prom, and homecoming. "You missed a lot didn't you, all those years of high school." Tom snuggled closer to Chris, reassuring, comforting, and strengthening. "Yeah, but then I would not be here now with you and my friends. Life is about tradeoffs. I do not regret missing high school because I am happy where I am now." Chet and Hector stood to say goodnight. Chris walked them to the door with the assurance they would be back by 9:00. Chris returned. "Want to sit on the balcony or is it too cool out?" Chris opened the patio doors; it was nippy. Chris returned to Tom's side and started the fireplace. "Hey Chris," Britney cheerful voice sounded. "mind if I join you. I mean we have had very little time to talk." Jessica joined Britney on the other sofa. "I am very happy for you Chris. You do not know how worried I was when you didn't come home. Dad expected you to tough it out for a few days; then when it stretched to weeks and months, a wall went up around him. Mom and Dad were on the edge of divorce, but they went to counseling. It helped." Chris was not sure that he wanted to hear all this. Britney continued. "I cried daily for a month before I came to the conclusion that your absence was the only right choice for you. I always receive the birthday cards you sent, unsigned. That reassured me that you were alive. But I still worried. When Tom contacted me a few months ago about seeing you, I was delirious with joy. And now this place, a glamorous job, and a hot boyfriend." Tom grinned. "You have almost everything you want. I am so proud to have you has my brother." Britney paused thinking. "You are still planning surgery?" Chris said yes. "Good, because you are my brother, always have been. Never my sister." Jessica did a sharp intake of breath. "I am so, so blind." Six eyes were upon Jessica. "My mother says I have a third eye." Jessica said as if that explained everything. "I'm... I see, rather, more strongly feel people and situations, present and sometimes future. The third eye. Chris from the first time I met you I felt something different about you, a duality fighting for balance. Your being transgender is that duality." She sat still looking at Chris, then grabbed his hand. "Wow," Jessica went quiet. "You are a nexus, a node that connects people, like Lorenzo De Medici or Gertrude Stein." "Got that right Jess." Tom's soft laugh broke the intense situation. "I've known Chris only two months, and he amazes me every day. He sees auras, intuits people. He steered Chet and your teacher together, even before they met." Chris had studied with Raul in the Chicago library the various esoteric theories but thought them mostly pig slop, although he never chastised Raul for the crystal he wore around his neck. Now he had to rethink his skepticism. He just sort of knew when people needed to connect. With affairs of the heart, it was the bending of auras toward each other like metal filings between magnetic poles. It was seeing the obvious and encouraging it to happen. Chris turned and studied Jessica. He saw around her indigo, violet, lavender and silver moving in a symphony of color. Without any logic, he knew that Jessica spoke her truth, that she believed what she said. "Thank you Jessica, but I don't think I have any special skills except sensing body language better than most, which was necessary for survival." "No, Chris you are correct," Jessica lightly pushed aside his comment. "It is necessary for your survival. It will be necessary for your survival. Right now, you are among friends who respect you, but the world is large and not everyone has a generous soul. There are people who are dark and warped; they will hurt you." Jessica let go of Chris's hand. "The movie is over," Hunter said after he, Steph and Hannah entered the living room with glasses, plates, and trash. "Were you want the trash?" Chris stood and showed Hunter the kitchen trash bin. Hannah and Steph put dishes in the dishwasher. "What are the sleeping arrangements?" Hannah said. I didn't see another bedroom." "Come and be amazed." Chris gleefully said and led the group, except Tom into the office. He made everyone step back and pushed a button by the seating area in the alcove. the furniture folded up and a king size bed descended. "Hope you three girls don't mind sleeping together." "Cool." Said Hunter. "but makes it tough if someone else want to watch TV." Chris waved his hand like a magician, pushed a button and moved as a wall surrounded the now bedroom. "How do you get to the bed. I don't see a door." Hannah ran her hand over the smooth surface. Chris crooked his finger to follow into the closet and the door to the bedroom and then the door to the bathroom. "Cozy and inviting." Hannah jumped on the bed. "Now for the guys in the living room." Chris, Tom, Steph and Hunter looked at the sofa, top to bottom, left to right for a release to make the sofa into a bed. "Beach-sofa to bed." The four jumped out of the way as the seat cushions descended and a platform with a thick mattress rolled out to queen size. The bed was made, but Chris found the pillows and a heavy blanket on the piano stool. "There you go guys." Steph sat on the bed, it was an air mattress, but far more comfortable than any used for camping. "Breakfast will be at 9. And we are off to bed." The girls said good night. Tom whispered in Steph's ear that there were condoms and lube on the floor by the sofa. Steph grinned then blushed an attractive shade of mauve. Chris was up a little before 9 in the kitchen working on breakfast. "Beach-recipe for French toast." Five different recipes choices appeared on the door of the refrigerator. It looked easy, the question was, did he have all the ingredients? The recipe served four so Chris needed to triple it. "Beach-Do I have enough bread to triple the quantity of this recipe." After a brief pause. "According to inventory you have a loaf of bread in the freezer. You can defrost it in the microwave, Sir." A brief pause. "Sir, if it would be helpful, you have a tablet in a slot in the counter to the left of the refrigerator or I could read instructions." In the freezer he found three loaves of bread: white, rye, and challah. "Beach can I use challah bread?" "Yes, sir. I have changed the recipe, sir." A new recipe appeared on the fridge for challah French toast, serving 4. The challenge for Chris was not the recipe; he had helped his mother in the kitchen often. The challenge was finding the bowls, knives, frying pans. He was in a special kind of heaven: a domestic heaven, not in the housewife way, but as a host preparing to entertain guests, that dual feeling of angst and elation, the joy of wanting to impress and the fear of falling short. "Beach-Vivaldi soft kitchen area only." Vivaldi's Four Seasons filled the background, a reassuring blanket calming Chris. "What'cha doin'" Tom kissed Chris on the neck as Chris enthusiastically beat the eggs. "Glad I'm not those eggs." Tom whispered into Chris's ear. "Making breakfast." Tom smiled at the pure joy in Chris's voice. "Not going out?" "No, my first-time cooking in my place." Tom understood, stood back to gaze upon his man, happy. "Want to help? You can pull bacon and sausage out. Chris stopped abusing the eggs and was adding the milk before returning to abusing the mixture. "A fruit salad or other fresh fruit would be nice. Tom found a bowl on the counter of apples, pears, and grapes. Tom looked over at the two boys entwined on the sleeper sofa, dead to the world. "Steph and Hunter must have worn each other out." Chris looked at the two and smiled. "First love is always special. I don't think they are a forever couple, but for now they are good for each other." Chris added the cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla to the eggs before putting the mix into the refrigerator. Tom had put the bacon on a griddle he found for the stove and now was coring and slicing apples and pears. After opening several drawers and doors, Chris found placemats, more informal for breakfast, in a linen cabinet. "Morning bro." Britney said with a hug on Chris. "What's cooking?" "French toast, bacon, sausage, fruit salad." Chris turned, "Tom, should we offer yogurt?" Tom grinned a sure. Tom loved seeing Chris happy. The two other girls wandered in and sat on the stools at the kitchen counter with Britney. Jessica looked at Hannah then tilted her chin to the two sleeping boys. Evil grins blossomed on their faces. They pounce with the lithe speed of youth on the two boys, grabbing and ferociously tickling their ribs. Squeals, curses, and breathless giggles erupted from the boys pinned wriggling under the girls now sitting on the boys' hips. "Time to wake up brother mine." Cooed Hannah delighted to have tormented her brother. Jessica gave a wink to Hannah. In a flash, the girls jumped off the bed and pulled the bedding off the boys. The boy's hands lightening to their crotches. "Two naked boys in bed together, whatever could that mean?" Hannah and Jessica giggled hysterically as did Chris, Tom and Britney. "I'll get you for this," Hunter yelled as he grabbed his underwear from beside the bed and ran bare-assed to the bathroom. Steph, however after the initial shock, stood and posed, unashamed of his body. "Ladies, look and weep. What you see will never be yours." He reached down and waggled his penis. "Now," Steph batter his eyelashes. "Chris or Tom." "Only in your wet dreams." Tom laughed. "Harsh, man, harsh." Steph casually turned and walked to the bathroom to join Hunter. Hannah and Jessica pulled the bedding of the sofa-bed. They put folded the blankets and pillows on the piano bench. "Ewe," Hannah's face puckered in disgust. "Boy juice." She held the sheet by the corner for Jessica to see. "Yup, a little dried, jizz, cum, spunk, man load." Jessica grabbed the sheets and wadded them up and threw the mess on the floor. "I have three older brothers. I've seen worse." The evil gleam came back in Jessica's eyes. "Gives you something to torment your brother about--left over spunk." Hannah grinned at the prospect. "Where you want these Chris?" Chris had no idea. "Beach-where do I put dirty laundry?" "Inside the door of your closet is a hamper, sir." Chris waited. "Pleasant to know one human lives here and knows how to dispose of soiled linen." "Is he always this sarcastic?" Hannah asked. "It is the role he is playing. He read the novels and watched the movies for the character, now he is including the mannerisms. Brit want to put silverware on? Maybe I'll change him to Mrs. Doubtfire." "Sir." Beach's voice. "I've identified Chaz and Boyd at the building entrance. Shall I admit them?" A live picture of the two appeared in the mirror over the fireplace and in a small box on the refrigerator. "Yes, please. Need to set two more places." Breakfast went well, the French toast was a hit. Chris sat at the head of his table; Tom next to him. Nine people all sharing food and conversation; this was close to heaven. Tom gripped Chris's knee under the table. At 11:00 Chet and Hector arrived looking like wild cats. "Have a good night?" Tom asked knowing by their disheveled appearance they did. The answer was only a shit-face grin from both. The five teens gathered their belongings into the living room. Chris pulled Britney into the media room to say a private goodbye. "You don't know how much it means to me to have you back in my life." He held her close starting to cry. "Me too." Britney softly answered, crying. "You know you always have a place here." "Yeah." Britney reluctantly pulled away from Chris. "I'm going to tell Mom I saw you." Chris did not say anything; he was just admiring the beautiful young woman his sister was becoming. "She still loves you and worried herself to distraction about you. She feels so guilty." "It is alright if you tell her. Tell her that I still love her and Dad. And say that I forgive them." "Oh, Chris," Britney threw herself back into Chris's arms crying. "We need to leave soon." It was Hector. He had combed his hair. Slipping into the bathroom the pair washed their faces to hide the tears. "You ready?" Hector asked Britney gently pulling her to his side. "Yeah," Britney cheerfully said, "Don't want to give Ms. Crosswrith a cow." "No, we don't" Hector added with a laugh. "No, we don't" Goodbyes and thank yous were said at the door of the apartment. Chris reminded Britney that he would be in Chicago next month and they would get together. Hector said he was staying a few more days to work out his move to New York in a month or two. Chet raised one finger. The door closed and Chris morosely sat on the sofa next to Tom. "We need to decide where you need more art work." Chaz said breaking the silence. "I thought the large piece by Slim would go on the dining room wall and the sculpture by the piano. The male portrait your bedroom and the yellow and blue the media room. Slim's tryptic will also go to your bedroom. We need a large work for over the sofa and a large piece in the long hall, a smaller piece in the hall to your bedroom, three to five pieces for over the piano, a piece by the entry door, two more pieces for the media room, a centerpiece sculpture for the dining room table--glass." Chaz paused, "but all this does not need to be done today or over the next few months. I want you to add pieces as you find what you like. If you find that something is not working after a year, sell it and make a little profit. You are buying wisely, not only what you like but an investment." Chris was numb and just nodded. "I trust you Chaz." Beach sounded. "Two unknown guests are at front door." It was Cedrick and Ariel. "Please admit them as friends." A pause. "Very good sir. I have gathered information on the two from the Internet and added the information to your personal contact." Chris and Tom waiting for what Beach would do next. "They are at the door now. Would you like to let me to just open the door, or would you like to greet them like a proper host." Chris opened the door for Cedrick and Ariel. "Welcome." Chris led the two to the living area. "Would you like some wine?" Cedrick looked around deeply curious. "You have a butler?" Chris liked Cedrick off balance. From the grin on Ariel's face so did she. "It is a computer avatar. Beach-show self." The mirror above the fireplace fuzzed and a close animated image of Mark Williams. "This is Beach. Beach can you recommend a wine?" "Yes, sir, I suggest a pinot noir and a sauvignon blanc with smoked gruyere, brie, and a sharp cheddar." Cedrick chuckled. "All you need now is a maid." "Have one. Rosie. It is not fully trained. As I request services, it will learn." Chris stood. "Ariel, Boyd want to help me get the wine and cheese?" In the kitchen Boyd opened the wine, and Ariel found a platter and tray while Chris cut cheeses. Together they arranged grapes and crackers as they talking about Tom and Chaz. Chris and Boyd carried the wine bottles, glasses and tray to the oversize coffee table. Ariel excused herself, went into the outside hallway, and returned holding a package wrapped in plain brown butcher's paper. This is a house warming gift from Cedrick and me. From the shape of the package, he knew it was a painting, but he did not expect this. It was oil on canvas. Chris looked again it was two painting. Chris held his breath as he looked at what obviously was Venice under a haze of golds, browns and yellows. His first thought was Turner by the atmospherics. "These are beautiful." "You need to find frames." Cedrick said. "They remind me of Turner's work." Ariel laughed. "They are Turner's work, Going to the Ball and Returning from the Ball are the titles." "These are originals!" Chris gasp. "But this is way too much for a housewarming. I expect blenders, toasters, and serving bowls. But why?" "Chris you are family. I had them in my gallery in Rome for ages without much interest on my part for selling them. And we knew you would appreciate them." "Absolutely, he is one of my favorite artists. I never expected to own one much less two. I don't know how to thank you." Chris was in tears as he hugged Ariel and Cedrick. "Chaz, these go in my bedroom." Chaz nodded noncommittal. "You need to have them insured." Tom said, holding one of the paintings. "How much." "Just a guess, 30 million." "Shit," was all Chris said as he sank to the floor. "Beach-Order me an at least 36 by 36 by 24 inches fire safe warranted for four hours." Pause, "Done sir. It will arrive Wednesday." "You're not going to lock the paintings up?" Ariel asked in horror. "No, just until I can get them framed and hung." Chris though a bit. "I will contact my security company about additional security for the paintings." "Art is to be appreciated and enjoyed, not hid away." Ariel sounded relieved by Chris's response. "Now show us your place." Ariel demanded. Chris gave a five-dollar tour. Cedrick was interested in the technology, particularly the AI involving Beach. Chris also pointed out where the new artwork was going and places that Chaz wanted additional pieces. Chris confided that Chaz wanted this place to be in Architectural Digest. Both Ariel and Cedrick agreed that it might be worthy. Back in the living room, Ariel and Cedrick said farewells, telling Tom that they would see his parents while in LA. After they left, Chaz pulled Chris from the sofa for art shopping. Tom declined, and Boyd, torn between being with Chaz and bored or spending the afternoon with Tom playing video games, stayed with Tom. Chris and Chaz returned about 6; Chris exhausted and Chaz effervescent. Chris gently laid several bags and boxes on the dining room table. The screams and yells from the media room caught both Chris and Chaz's attention. Tom and Boyd never heard Chris and Chaz enter: World of Warcraft had them on the edges of the sofa, yelling at the screen and each other. A few dead soldiers beside the sofa bore silent witness to the horror of war. Chris kissed Tom on the top of his head. Tom bolted from his seat in a panic, then saw Chris. "Jezz, Chris, you scared the crap out of me. " "Does it mean Chris can now plow your ass without any brown shame attached?" Boyd grinned at Tom, who blushed slightly, while Chaz was looking confused. "Chris's fake pecker is a powerful dildo. Fun for us both." Now Chaz blushed. Chris moved aside Tom as Chaz snuggled beside Boyd. Boyd paused the game. "You boys have fun?" Chaz rounded quickly with a yes. Chris was less enthusiastic. "Chaz had fun, but my feet hurt, and I never want to see another table centerpiece. We bought five, with candlesticks, a half dozen vases, and other crap." Chaz slapped his hand over the last comment. "Chris will have an impressive home when I am done. Besides, he has the money, not like it is his money." "So, you use my money to get your jollies shopping." "That's what great designers do," Chaz sniped back. "Boys stop acting like two queens at a shoe sale." Tom intervened despite enjoying the show. "Was there anything that Chaz bought that you did not like?" "We compromised on the punch bowl. He wanted porcelain Limoge; I wanted clear glass. Why have a punch bowl if you cannot enjoy looking at the punch. We settled for cut glass. It at least had all the cups. And it is Waterford, so it is quality, which Chaz likes." Chaz mocked Chris silently from behind. "Chris is fun to shop with. I pick out something too ornate for Chris's taste. He grabs, without much thought a counter offer that is simply inappropriate. Then we settle for what I really want, but know he'll baulk at if offered first." "I do not do that." Chris turned in a huff. Chaz stared him down. "okay, maybe." "I'm mighty pleased I didn't go with you." Boyd said between amused at the whole thing and disgusted by it. "I'd bitch slap you both." "But honey if you loved me, you will want to shop with me." Chaz whined in syrup. "Shit...shit...shit." Boyd moaned back. "Tom, you are so lucky that your man is not demanding." Guffaws broke from Tom like a surge of startled birds. "Miss Prima Donna." Tom grabbed his side from the laughter. Chris looked at Chaz and stood. "Chaz? want to go out for supper. These men are under the assumption that we are demanding. I say we are demanding of the best because we are worth it. These two peasants here would not know quality even if it flew up the ass. We can go to any park and find better. And I can speak from experience." Tom pulled Chris back down onto the sofa with himself. He nuzzled Chris's ear. "Let's go out for supper." "Stella and Stan's?" Chris asked. They did. Chris did not realize how much he missed the place and the people. Several of the regulars came over to say hi and ask about how he was doing. Stella was her usual homey, abrupt self; Stan was the long-suffering husband. Benjie invited himself into the booth to tell Chris how great his sister was. Chris phone buzzed with a text from Britney say she was home and things were tense. He was frustrated that there was little he could do to change things. He felt guilty and responsible. Chris showed the text to Tom, who just hugged him closer. After a longer meal than usual, the four went to their respective beds. Chris and Tom to Chris's and Chaz and Boyd to Tom's flat. Sunday morning arrived like a punctual guest. But Chris and Tom left him waiting at the door; for in the darkness of their cave, snores forbad welcome. By mid-morning Chris stirred himself into the kitchen, fixed coffee, and looked around. The packages were still on the dining room table, the blankets and pillows were still on the piano bench, and he was sure, the unmade bed was still in the guest room. "Beach-What is Rosie capable of doing as far as housekeeping?" "Very little sir." Beach's voice held contempt. "She has very basic programing, mostly lift and carry." Chris thought he heard a slight exasperated sigh from Beach. "She is a good girl, but needs training." "How is she trained?" "She has more kinetic memory than higher function memory. She has me for that, if she would ask. She learns by doing, Sir." "Will you help me with her?" "If I must, Sir." "Thanks Beach, you're a gem. Rosie-to me." After a minute a two-foot-high cylinder on wheels was at Chris's feet. Rosie followed Chris around like a puppy dog while Chris did the cleaning chores; her inner hydraulics raising and lowering the top so the extending arms were at the proper level. Chris noted that she had good spatial orientation . Rosie was best at carrying; Chris piled her arms or appendices, more accurately, full. "Beach-Does Rosie talk?" "No Sir, she has no voice synthesizing capacity." Chris decided that was probably best. Tom was sitting in the kitchen on a stool, slurping coffee. Only in boxer shorts, he looked like a fixture of the house. Chris liked that thought. "What is on the agenda for today." Tom asked, but his eyes were on the machine following Chris. "That's Rosie?" Tom asked over the rim of his coffee cup. "Rosie, introduce yourself to Tom." Rosie whirled in a circle not knowing what a Tom was. Tom chuckled and shook his head. Rosie helped Chris load the dishwasher. "Sir," Beach chimed. "Once you are settled in, Rosie needs to see each room for placement of items. If they are moved, she will return them to the proper location. You need to indication what can and cannot be touched, washed, folded or otherwise destroyed, she needs to be informed. Sir, she requires extensive site programming to become fully operational." Beach paused; Chris was sure for effect. "You might be safer with a human." "Thank you Beach for your suggestion." Chris grabbed another cup of coffee and sat next to Tom. "Need to do grocery shopping for tomorrow's cookout. Any ideas on what to serve?" "Keep it simple, easy to prepare and clean up after. Burgers, fries, a salad and a desert." Tom decided he was fixing brunch for Chris. Chris sat back on the stool enjoying Tom fumble around the strange kitchen. Again, Chris thought how nice it was having Tom around. Chaz came by just as Tom placed the brunch on the island counter. "Sir, Master Chaz is here." Beach said, "I allowed entry at the main door. I assume that was acceptable." "Yes, Beach, Chaz is a Level 3 friend and allowed into the main door." "Duly noted." "Level 3?" Chris nodded, "Level 3. The security system has six levels of security. Master--me, Level 1 total access including financial, Level 2--total access except financial, Level 3--front and condo door entry access and access to the amenities, Level 4--basically the same as level 3 but with parental controls, Level 5--guest level access to media and Internet and Level 6--trade level, which is anyone who delivers or services, they don't set off the alarm while they work." "Which level am I?" Tom asked? "Right now, Level 3, but after last night I might change it to Level 4. If I find someone to move in with me, they will be Level 2, once married he will be Level 1." "Have any interesting prospects for housemate?" Tom prodded, mostly sure that it would be him, mostly. "I have a few candidates, but he would need to share my bed, put up with my darker moods." "Yes, those darker moods should give anyone pause." "And of course, he needs to be handsome, kind, considerate, a total slave to my fickle whims." "Fickle whims you have aplenty. Would take a saint to cater to them." "Rich is also good to indulge my extravagant taste." "Rich is relative, but compared to you with two original Turners on the floor in your bedroom. It will be hard to find someone that richer." "Maybe I should aim my talons for Eric Trump." "He might be sufficed. But he is not that rich, and if you don't require heavy brainwork from your mate." "Yes, brains are important." Chris paused studying Tom. "But the most important is that he loves me." Another pause. "And I him." "Now that you have enumerated the particulars for a Level 2 roommate, I can send out curriers to the four edges of the earth to find a suitable bedmate." "I do not think you need to search that far." "Hey guys," Beach had unlocked the door for Chaz. "Oh food, famished am I." Chaz immediately went into the kitchen, poured a cup of coffee and filled a plate with food. He sat on a stool next to Chris. "Who did the grub." Tom waved a hand. "My aren't you getting domesticated." "Where is Boyd?" Chris asked. "He decided that he needed to spend some time with his parent up in Queens. Family issues to resolve he said." "Did he say what the issues were." "No, and I didn't push. Chaz sat silent chewing on a piece of melon. "Tom, Chris, I am at a loss. I have never felt this way about a guy. Boyd is pushing all my buttons, and I light up like a neon Christmas tree. I don't like feeling this way, so out of control." Chaz stabbed a strawberry. "That is not true, I like, no love feeling this way. I am in free fall and the wind is rushing by, the sky is Byzantine blue, the air is crisp, fresh, alive. I know intellectually that the ground is rushing toward me, but I don't care; I don't worry because I know Boyd is there to catch me." "I think you are falling in love." Tom was beaming with happiness for Chaz. "It could not happen to a more deserving guy. Boyd is great for you." "Then why do I feel that he is running from me. This morning when he left he kissed me so tender, the longing in it was poetry, but when he said goodbye, it felt like he was leaving me for good." Chaz started sobbing. Chris gently pulled him into a hug and guided him to the sofa. Tom found tissue, handed him a few and sat behind Chaz, hands on Chaz's shoulder. Slowly regaining composure Chaz said, "Sorry about that. Don't usually cry over guys but." Chaz sniffled back a few tears. "Chaz, know it looks bleak, but trust me once Boyd comes to his senses, he will be back in your arms like a lost teddy bear." "Do you know what is going on with the family crisis." "Yes, Boyd told me Thursday. It is not a family crisis, but a crisis that Boyd refuses to remedy. But Boyd is an honorable person. That honor is making him make decisions that help no one." Chaz was suddenly in the middle of a three-person hug. Tom caught Chris's eyes and knew that Chris was solving the problem. Chaz sat up and laughed. "I been fantasizing about being between you two, but with me naked and not blubbering like an idiot." "Sir," Beach's interruption returned the situation to normal. "Delivery men from Moonflower are at the main door." "May I help you gentlemen." The men startled at Chris's voice at the door. "Sorry to startle you but I have a camera system from the door to unit." "You mean you can see us?" an older man said. A younger man next to him quickly finger combed his hair. "Yes, I assume you have five items to deliver?" The older man pulled a paper from his coverall pocket. "Yes sir, two are very heavy. What floor are you on?" Chris said third. "Might guess. Any luck you have an elevator?" Chris assured then that he did. "Thank all the fucking saints." The older man said as Chris unlocked the door. Chris waited for the men by the elevator; he could hear their cursing as they tried to maneuver the largest piece into the elevator. The elevator opened and the older man stepped out; the large piece by Slim was diagonal in the elevator. "So kid, show us where your dad wants this." Chris stifled a chuckle. "We'll bring the other pieces up after we have this delivered. The old lady on first floor is watching them." "Mrs. Coons it tougher than many cops." The older man laughed while the younger man slid out a four-wheel dolly. After more curses the piece was on the dolly and rolling smoothly down the floor. They need to tilt the piece on its side but otherwise it was a smooth delivery. Chris had them put it against the wall in the dining area. They returned 10 minutes later with the other four pieces. The older man held out the clipboard. "I need your father to sign for this." Chris took the clipboard and pen and signed. The man looked at the signature. "You're Chris Wentworth. All this shit is yours?" Chris could not help but laugh. "I will tell the artist, when I see him tomorrow, that you called his work `shit.'" Chris continued to laugh as he handed the board and pen back and received a copy. "I do greatly appreciate your delivery. Can I offer you something to drink. Water, beer?" The older man looked at the younger man, who had crept back to the door. "Yeah, beer sounds good. Only delivery of the day, bitch Greenwood insisted we deliver today. God know what is so important about this crap." Chris wanted to shove the man out the door, but hospitality required restraint. "I'm John and that faggot over there is my son Willy. He may be a faggot but I love him anyway." He pulled Willy into a head lock and knuckle rubbed his hair. Chris pulled two beers, his cheaper brews, out of the fridge, handed it to the two men as they sat on the sofa. "By the way, I'm Chris, and this is Chaz, and the other gentleman is Tom Greenwood, cousin of the bitch. For a business man you sure know how to insult my friends." Chris sat next to Tom and put a hand on his knee. Willy noticed and smiled at Chris. "How long you been schlepping other people's stuff?" "Good twenty years. Had a partner but he retired a few years ago and brought the kid in." John took a gulp of beer, a portion ran down his chin, which he wiped with the back of his hand. "Wanted the kid to go to college, make something of himself but no he wanted to help the old man. Kinda sweet if your think about it." "That is nice." Chaz said, "I never wanted to do what my father does. He never pushed me either." "What your old man do?" John asked. "Plumber. Making a very good living at it to. Has his own company now with four people working for him, one is a woman, best of the lot." Chaz added the last to counter what he thought might be John's prejudices. "Woman plumber." John huff. "Can see that, small an' wiry, get into tight places. Good move on your dad's part. I see people as tools, got to have the right one for the right job." "Willy," Chris changed focus because Willy sat in the shadow of his father. "Do you like working for your dad?" "You can be honest kid." John interrupted. "Most days." Willy was quiet and reserved. "It's hard physical labor, which I like, the hours sometimes suck. He had a heart attack," John tutted the comment away. "So, I am close in case something happens. It's just the two of us." "What do you do to entertain yourself?" Tom asked Willy. "Go to bars and dance, play guitar." "My boy is one horny fucker. He gets more dick than Carter has liver pills." John slapped Willy's knee hard. "Like his old man, he knows how to get laid." He chuckled satisfied at the thought. "Do you mind," Willy said quietly, "showing what we fought the elevator for. You can also check for damage." Chris unwrapped the two smaller pieces: the head and the painting. Noncommittal comments about the paintings, then the sculpture. John was fascinated by the craftsmanship of that. And last, with Chaz's help, Chris unwrapped but did not uncrate Slim's large piece. "Shit that's ugly, reminds me of church." John looked at Chris's humorous smile. "But to each his own." Willy, who was standing next to Chris with a casual hand on Chris's should, studied the piece carefully. "I bet it will be stunning when it is mounted right." He stepped closer. Stained glass." Chris nodded. "Will it be lit?" Chris nodded again. "I wish I could see it when it is fully on display." John studied the piece more closely. "Makes you want to fuck a lot. Me and my wife fucked often and we lasted 35 years. You do the same with your boy and you will last that long." Willy just rolled his eyes. "Sir, that is my very intention." Tom replied with a smirk. John gave a hearty laugh and slapped Tom on the shoulder. "You do that boy, you do that." Willy lingered a bit at the door as his father went toward the elevator. "You must excuse my dad; he is a little rough. But his heart is in the right place." "Willy, do not ever apologize for your father's behavior. He may appear crude, but it shows his tender heart." Chris watched Willy as he thought about it. "Let's exchange numbers and I'll invite you and your dad over for supper." "Thanks, I'd appreciate that. I'd appreciate it more if it were just me. I need more gay friends than I just screw and leave." Willy ran to catch his father. "That was interesting." Chris said as he closed the door. The three sat down to finish their beer. "Want to go for a walk. It is a beautiful day and we have a large park across the street. Summer was on the cusp of mirth while spring's melancholily lingered in the breeze. People were out celebrating the passing season, some in shorts and tanks, some in warmer wear. A new crop of babies in four-wheel strollers slept while parents spoke baby talk to each other. Gray-haired grams and gramps idled on benches, tossing peanuts to squirrels. Teens, some punked in fluorescents, chattered alongside the jays. Chris inhaled the air, filtering out the car fumes, like a snorkeler before the plunge. He was free to dive deep into the green world, his green world. They walked along the waterway and to the lake through the wetlands: coots, heron, and bitterns hid while redwing blackbirds trilled in the rushes. They walked and talked about the inconsequential that are the mortar of life. On the bridge on the way home, Chris commented. "This is my front yard. Isn't it magnificent." Tom looked at Chris and kissed him. Chris slept well that night listening to the conversation of trees.