15 Hartford

By Soul Lark

Published on Apr 28, 2001

Gay

Disclaimer: This story is entirely fictional and not intended for minors or those judged unable by law to read this material. Any resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental and unintended.

The author reserves all rights to this work.

15 HARTFORD

The story so far: Martin has hired Michael, whom he believes to be the friend of the young man who was shot. He has also just discovered that he could be attracted to this young man. Martin is confused and does not understand what is happening to him.

Part 3 - Michael's Family

Martin decided that if he were to do the graphics card at the same time as Michael was cleaning the computer, he would be safe. He went to a spare bench that was away from Sally and Michael. He obtained the Fire Chief's computer and started to put in the graphics card. He took out the casing of the computer and put it to one side. He removed the old card and then inserted the new card. What he did not notice was Michael standing behind him, looking carefully at what he was doing. When he had finished everything, he started the computer and waited for the system to detect the new device and Martin proceeded to install the new driver and delete the old one. Everything was okay. He reached for the computer case but could not find it.

"Sorry Mr. McBain, I took it to clean." A voice Martin dreaded came from behind him.

Martin turned and said, "I could have done it."

"Sorry, I had finished the cleaning of the other when Sally mentioned that you were here installing a new graphics card and asked me to come here. I saw the whole process. Mr. McBain, you are really good with your hands. I will give the case back to you in a jiffy. This case looks very well maintained. It shouldn't take long."

Michael turned round and walked to his bench with the case. Though the jeans he had worn were not very tight, they did fit quite snugly. Martin began to stare at this young man's behind. When Michael went from his sight, Martin's nervousness returned. He realised that he had been thinking about the naked bottom of this young man and that realisation horrified him. He had never even thought of the bottoms of women working in the workshop. This is the first time Martin had allowed himself to be attracted to someone in the workshop.

He turned back and stared at the computer in front of him. He wondered what was happening to him. He stared at the various processors and circuits but nothing registered in his mind. He still had the torso and the bottom of Michael before him. He did not know how long he was in this state because he heard the voice of Michael behind him.

"Here you are, Mr. McBain. You'd better check to see that I have done a good job."

Martin looked into the case, he tried to concentrate, but he as not able to. His feelings were still mixed up and he knew he would not be able to spot anything. Just then, the lunch buzzer blew. Martin, appreciating the fact that Michael would probably rush off for lunch, calmed him a little. He covered back the computer without replacing the screws, deciding to check the computer carefully after lunch.

He turned back and saw Michael still standing there, staring at him.

"Is anything the matter, Mr. McBain?"

"No. It's lunch time, boy. Why don't you go for lunch?"

"You are pale, sir. Your colour is really bad. I think you need a special boost. I know a Chinese place that serves a special herbal soup to bring your strength levels up. Why don't I bring you there and buy you a serving. I know it would help you. You are looking too pale today."

"Michael, thank you for the offer, but I don't think that I should accept lunch from you. It might be misconstrued as a bribe."

"It's not lunch! Not exactly. Well, we make it look like you are taking me out for lunch then."

"But I have never brought out someone for lunch."

"Why are you so worried? You're stressing yourself out. I insist. If you don't take that soup, you may get ill and then the trouble really starts. Come on, it's really good, I mean the taste as well as the effects."

Michael looked so determined and Martin already had his defences wiped out that morning in the toilet. He nodded, giving up.

When the exited the building, many of the personnel in the workshop had already gone to the canteen or out. It was doubtful that anyone saw them. Michael brought him to a backstreet where there was a small Chinese restaurant. It was more like a cafe. They sat down and Michael said something Martin did not understand to a man who came to serve them.

When the man went off, Martin asked, "What did you say to that waiter?"

Michael laughed, "That man was the proprietor. He is a physician of Oriental medicine. I asked him for the soup that bruilds up strength. I said that you looked a little pale and could use some of the Bowyong Kaitong."

"You speak Chinese?"

"My mother is a dishwasher in a Chinese restaurant. One her friends is a Chinese who came here from Hong Kong. She thought me a few phrases here and there. That is how I know about this place. The proprietor tends to make a better brew when one speaks in Chinese."

Martin was getting impressed by this boy. He had hidden talents. Though he was still on tenderhooks about being so near Michael, he did not feel as nervous as he did before. Not wanting to go into an uncomfortable silence, Martin asked the boy about his father.

Michael said quietly, "My father died when I was seven. He was a police constable. We do not know why he died, the police suspect that he caught some people who were doing something illegal and they killed him." Michael eyes narrowed, "My father was found with a heavy blow to his head. The doctors said that it crushed his skull."

"I am sorry."

"That's what everybody says." Michael was visibly angry.

"I am sorry for dragging this obviously upsetting memory. I did not mean to upset you."

Michael straightened up and smiled. "I am sorry if I have over-reacted. Sometimes, I wonder why they couldn't have hit him just enough to cause him to pass out. The sad thing is that the police never found his killers. Till today, his death remains a mystery."

Martin realised that Michael's father and his friend had both died from violence. At least, his friend's killers were caught.

Wanting to change the subject, Martin asked about the rest of the family.

"As you know, Mom is a dishwasher. She single-handedly raised me up and brought me through school." Michael said proudly. "I also have a brother and a sister. They are twins. They are now thirteen. When I was growing up, Mom left us with my grandmother. Most of the time, I had to help Nana, that is what we called our grandmother, to look after the twins. So we are pretty close. Since we are talking about families, what about yours Mr. McBain?"

Martin cleared his throat. He did not expect this young man to be so straight-forward. "Probably a fruit of this generation," he thought.

With some effort, he said, "My father has passed on. He died ten years ago at the age of seventy. I have a seventy-seven year old mother. She is well except for the fact that she is getting senile." Martin paused for a while and said, "That's not right. She is actually unwell at the moment. She caught the chicken pox and is in quarantine."

"Chicken pox? I thought there was some vaccination or something against chicken pox? I remembered that we were all given some shots for measles and chicken pox."

"Unfortunately, I think my mother never had the chicken pox and then never bothered to get the shots. So now, I am stuck in the city, not being able to go home for three weekends because of the quarantine. I had chicken pox already, but I might develop shingles later on if I do not respect the quarantine. Sigh!"

"No wonder you are so uptight and pale," Michael said. "You must be worried sick about your mother. I know I would be."

The soup came at that juncture and they dug in. It was chicken soup but it had a tangy taste with the slightest trace of bitterness. It had the smell of something that was foreign to Martin. He guessed that the strange taste and smell had to do with the Chinese herbs. On the whole, it was a good soup with bits of chicken in it.

"It was good, eh?" Michael asked when Martin was finishing up the soup.

"Yes. I think I feel better already," said Martin. He did indeed feel better. He had gotten to know a bit about Michael and his problem with him was slowly going away. Michael stood up and then said something to the proprietor and then paid him.

"Thanks for the soup." Martin smiled as he spoke, making Michael quite proud of himself. He had cheered up a man whom very few people liked.

"You're welcome," he replied.

Martin then suggested a cafe where they could get a sandwich before heading back to the office. Michael agreed and they sat in the cafe and each ordered a sandwich. Michael had a soft drink whilst Martin ordered a coffee.

Martin took a sip of his coffee as he was waiting for their sandwiches to arrive. "I also have a brother and a sister. They are a lot older than me, though. My sister is the oldest. She is fifty-five and she married an Australian farmer. She visits once in a while but the farm and family takes up most of her time. She has four children and two grandchildren. The last time she visited us was three years ago. Next comes my brother who is fifty-four. I don't know why, but he couldn't get along with my parents. He found a job in the East when he was in his twenties and I have not seen him since. Once in a while he sends a card from one place or another. Sometimes it is from Turkey, or Hong Kong, or the Philippines. So basically, I had to look after my mother after my father died."

Their sandwiches arrived then and they began to eat. Suddenly, Michael asked, "If you don't mind me asking, you are quite a successful man, how come you never married?"

Martin was trying to get used to the straight-forwardness of Michael. "I don't know, I dated a bit but nothing ever came out of it. When I got promoted to supervisor, I got married to my job, I guess. Between looking after my mother and the job, I have got my hands full. You don't have a girlfriend, do you? You young people seem to be dating at an earlier age nowadays."

Michael felt a sting. He could not tell his boss he was gay. How could he tell his boss that his first and only boyfriend to date is lying six feet underground and that he has no idea where this boyfriend is buried?

"No."

Martin sensed something wrong. Michael's eyes had suddenly stopped sparkling. Martin decided to change the subject.

"When do your results come out?"

"Does it really matter? I have found a job and I can take care of myself."

"Well getting good results may allow you to continue studying. Even if you do not want to continue, a good certificate will give you a better chance to be promoted."

"I cannot tax my mother further by studying higher. It's my turn to do something for the family so that my mother can take a rest."

Martin admired the boy. He was young but was aware of his responsibilities. If only he could continue studying, he would be able to develop his talents and gifts further.

They finished their lunch and headed back to the office. Before they reached the building, Martin gave a friendly warning to Michael, "Michael, remember, this lunch makes us friends but we are boss and worker when we enter the workshop. Things have not changed. I want to make this clear if I have to penalise you for a mistake or something."

Michael solemnly nodded his head, "I understand Mr. McBain. I am here to learn and to work. If I made a mistake and you let me off just because I was your friend, it would be very unfair."

Martin's admiration for the young man increased.


When the work buzzer went off for the day, there were some cheers. It was the weekend, and the workshop was closed for the weekend. Martin heard a knock on his door.

"Come in."

It was Michael. "Sir, I was just thinking. Would you like to come over to my place for dinner tonight? My mother is off on Fridays and I think a home cooked meal would do you good. I cannot offer anything extravagant, but at least it is a genuine home environment with noisy kids and all. I know that this is pretty sudden. I had just come up with the idea. You are not able to go home and so I thought I could offer my home, even if it is for just a few hours."

Martin was genuinely touched. This boy seemed to have no guile. "Thank you, Michael, I appreciate the gesture." He was glad that his thick glasses was hiding his eyes. He knew he had to control himself or else the tears would be seen.

"Okay. I'll make a call home and tell my mother to set another place at the table. We can leave anytime before half past six. The bus takes 45 minutes to an hour to reach home."

Martin thought for a moment and said, "I have a car. Is there space to park the car near your house. I can drive there from my place. I am sure that it would take less time to reach your place by car."

"You didn't know that you drive to work?"

"I don't. I do use it to drive back to my mother's. It is parked in the garage of my flat. I need to freshen up a bit before going to your place. After all the work here, I am sure I stink."

"So how should we proceed now?" Michael asked.

"Why don't you come back with me to my flat. After I have washed and changed, we can drive up to your house ... unless you want to go back to your friend's place first. In that case, I'll pick you up at your friend's and then we go together."

Michael thought for a while and said, "The latter. We'll go back to our respective places. I'll need to wash-up too."

"You could wash at my place."

"But I'll have a change of clothes at my friend's place."

"Okay, you'd better draw a map to tell me how to get to your friend's place, then. I do not know this place very well."


Michael's map was quite a good one because Martin found the place easily. Michael was already downstairs waiting.

Michael was almost like a tour guide. As he showed Martin the way to go to his place, he pointed out some of the places in the city that he had gone and related some stories of what happened when he was there.

The car ride took about half an hour. Michael lived in a poorer part of the city. He was not ashamed of his home. It did look less maintained but it was not in disrepair either.

Michael reminded Michael to lock his car. Though relatively safe, most of the people here did not own any cars like Martin's and the car, if unlocked, could invite some unwanted attention.

After the introductions were made, they sat down for dinner. The meal started with a simple soup and the main course was a simple shepherd's pie with boiled vegetables.

"Mrs. Watson this pie tastes really good. Could you part with the recipe? I am sure it had been in your family for generations."

"Oh you flatter me, Mr. McBain. Actually, it is a family recipe. My granny taught me. I could write out the recipe. Though when I cook, I estimate from experience and not from exact measurements."

"Thank you, Mrs. Watson. An estimation would be fine. I had to learn to cook when my mother started to forget things. More than once, I had to dilute my soup with more boiled water because my mother had forgotten that she had already added salt."

Mrs. Watson laughed and then looked a little guilty. "I am sorry Mr. McBain, I shouldn't be laughing at your mother like this."

"Oh, no matter. The story was meant to be funny. I am sure if my mother were here, she would be laughing alongside with us."

"I heard from Michael that she now has chicken pox. I am sorry. It must be quite dreadful for a person so old to bear through all that itching."

"Yes," Martin said. "I am glad that I hired a nurse to look after her."

"A nurse? Isn't that expensive?"

"Well, it is. However, the nurse I hired wanted the work more to help me than for the money."

"Bless her soul. Such people are very difficult to find nowadays."

"Yes. I must confess that I was very surprised that Michael invited me over tonight. He was very persuasive."

"That's my Michael. He's always ready to help someone. I remember ..."

Michael interrupted, "Mom... ! You don't have to tell my kiddie stories to my boss, do you?"

Mrs. Watson smiled, "I wasn't going to tell him about that time that you ..."

Michael groaned, "There you go again!"

The twins giggled. Martin turned to them and asked, "Maybe you could tell me a story or two?"

Michael glared at the twins and said, "Remember, I am staying the night!"

Martin and Mrs. Watson laughed.

"Are you sure that my Michael is such a saint, I am quite sure there was a glimpse of the something quite contrary just now!"

Michael interjected with a grin, "I am working now. Mr. McBain is my boss. I am trying to be as mature as possible. All three of you want to do is to change me into some angelic ten year old choirboy. If you do that, poof! There goes the good impression Mr. McBain has of me."

Adam, one of the twins said, "Michael is really a good brother. He always helps me with my homework. If I did not have him, I don't think I would have been able to do so well for my last exams. He was also studying for his exams, but he always made time for both of us."

Michael blushed and said, "He did all the studying, all I did was to encourage him a little. It was something any brother would do. Mr. McBain, please don't pay too much attention."

Martin winked at Adam and Adam grinned. He knew that Martin believed him. Charlene saw the wink and grinned, too.

Martin spoke up, "Mrs. Watson, you are blessed with a wonderful family. Your children don't seem to have serious sibling rivalry and all are devoted to the family."

Mrs. Watson beamed. "Thank you Mr. McBain. There were trying times, I must tell you. The twins are really crafty. However, they know I love them and they try their hardest not to disappoint me, though sometimes they do." With that remark, the twins lost their grins, though not for long.

They had finished their dinner and Michael helped his mother to clear the plates whilst Mrs. Watson prepared dessert. Charlene, the other twin, asked Martin softly. "Mr. McBain, I think I like you, but you're not trying to be our step-father, are you?"

Adam tried to kick Charlene under the table and hit Martin instead. "Oops, sorry. Charlene does asks the silliest questions sometimes."

Martin was not angry. He was more amused. He said, "No. I'm not. I am sure your mother is a wonderful person, but I think she is happy as she is. She does not need me." That answer seemed to satisfy Charlene. When her brother and mother returned with dessert, they settled down to some chatter again.

After dinner, the twins switched on the TV. The local news was on. Just before the news ended, it was reported that the results of the national examinations would be released the next day. The twins were excited. Their brother was going to get his results! Michael, was not excited. Martin found that strange.

It was getting late and Martin decided that it would be better to go home. He bid his hosts farewell and Michael accompanied him to his car.

"You should be anxious to get your results, you know." Martin said.

"I know that the certificate would be useful, but it doesn't really matter whether I do well or not."

Martin then asked him seriously, "If you had a chance to study again, would you go for it? I mean, if there was no problems in the financial situation of your family, would you go for it?"

Michael stared into the night sky. "If there was such a chance, I think I would. However, I can only wish. There are no shooting stars tonight."

Martin said, "I will like to know your results. I hope I am not being intrusive?"

"No, of course not. I don't care what the others say, you are a nice man, Mr. McBain."

"Thanks."

"Can you handle going back alone?" Michael asked.

"I take this road out and then I hit the main road, right?"

"Yes."

"I can find my way from there. There is no problem." Martin took out his wallet and got out a card. "Look Michael, I am speaking to you as a friend, not as your boss. If you want company tomorrow or someone to talk about your results, you know you can call me. Here is my number. My home number is on the back."

"Thanks Mr. McBain."

Martin then got into the car and left.


Michael washed and changed. He got into his brother's room and knocked the door, though it was open. It had been his room before he moved out. He told Adam to move into his room when he was moving out. Adam had managed to put his stamp on the room with the football posters but still it had little reminders that Michael had used the room.

"The door is open big brother," Adam said.

"Yes, but it is your room now," said Michael. "Thanks for not totally throwing out all my things. It helps me to feel a little at home here."

"No sweat, big brother. I want to grow up just like you. You are way cool."

"You say this now. Wait a few years and I am sure that you would have your own identity." Michael was not sure his brother knew enough about him to want to be like him. His brother did not know that he was gay. If his brother was gay, Michael would like him to discover it for himself. He did not want to his brother to be gay just because he was gay. Michael was not ashamed to be gay, but he just did not want to influence his brother's orientation. He knew that his brother was at the age where he could cause psychological damage if he was not careful.

"Michael, can I ask you a question? Please promise not to laugh."

"Okay."

"Did you ever jack off?"

Michael was not prepared for this question. He had known that his brother would talk to him about this but he did not expect it to so soon. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well, Charlene says ..."

"Charlene talked to you about jacking off?" Michael was getting intrigued and a little annoyed with his sister.

"Yes. She said that all boys do it and wondered if I was doing it."

"What did you tell her?"

"I asked her what was jacking off and she started laughing."

Michael wanted to laugh but just smiled. "Didn't Charlene tell you?"

"She just said if I did not know what it was, I was not ready to ask that question."

"I had wanted to ask Mom, but the twinkle in Charlene's eyes told me that I'd probably ask you first."

"Adam, for once, you did a wise thing. Mom would not have freaked out when you asked her, but she would if she found out that it was Charlene who initiated the whole thing."

Michael then noticed a shadow move behind the door. He guessed that it could be Charlene. He moved as close to the door as possible and continued, "For all you know, Charlene may be helping boys to jack off." Just as he finished his sentence, he suddenly jerked open the door and just as he expected, Charlene came tumbling in.

"Shame on you Charlene, eavesdropping on your brothers."

Charlene was blushing. She retorted, "I do not help other boys. You men are all alike, only with one thing on their minds."

Michael laughed, "Yes, but it was a girl who initiated all this talk." Turning serious, he continued, "Listen here. I am assuming what you asked is just curiosity. It is okay to be curious, but don't go and try anything with anybody. I know that you are growing up and you want to know as much as possible, but in this case, curiosity could land you in a lot of trouble and heartache. Girls have much more to lose than boys in some ways and boys lose more in others. So don't go and try anything with anybody, okay?"

The twins nodded their heads. Michael thought for a moment and looked at Charlene. "You out there, I'll talk to you." Then turning to Adam, he said, "Stay here. If I catch you eavesdropping on what we are talking about, I will personally see that you have a lot of cleaning to do tomorrow."

Adam nodded his head. When Michael was in such a mood, he usually carried out his threats.

In the living room, Michael asked Charlene, "Okay, what's this about asking your twin brother something that he doesn't know about?"

"My friends in school were talking about how their brothers and boyfriends were doing them."

"At twelve, you have boyfriends?"

"Well they were the older girls. They are really cool, Michael. They wear nice clothes and ..."

"Charlene, have you talked to mom about the changes in your body?"

"We talked about some things but I did not ask her about the boy's stuff."

"Perhaps you should ask her. After she speaks to you, then if you have some embarassing questions regarding guys, you can ask me. However, I think it would be better to hear about women stuff from a woman, a woman who loves you and you can trust?"

"I guess my friends ..."

"Are girls who are growing to be women but are not women yet." Michael completed for her. "I have no doubts that you are friends, even good friends. However, are you sure you can really trust them to tell you the truth, not what they think is true? Do you think they love you the way mom loves you?"

Charlene shook her head. "I understand, Michael."

"Good. For goodness sake, please don't ask her tonight. Tomorrow morning as she is making breakfast would be a good time to talk to her, okay?"

"Yes. Thanks."

"Alright. Off to bed."

Michael went back into the room and Adam was seated waiting anxiously.

"Adam, do you really not know what jacking off is all about?"

"Well I've heard the boys in school talking about playing with our dicks. But the dick is used for peeing. How can we play with them."

"Do your dick sometimes get stiff?"

"Yes. In the morning. But when I pee, it becomes better."

"Any other time?"

"Not that I can remember."

"Okay Adam, you don't have to worry about anything about jacking off. If your friends ask, just say that you are normal guy and that it is none of their business whether you do or not. You may get teased, but at least it would not be because you don't know. If the teasing get worse, just ignore them. I don't want you to get into a fight because of a small little thing."

"So tell me what is jacking off."

"Adam. It's playing with your dick, just like your friends say. But, you are not that grown yet. If I tell you now you'd probably think I am crazy. So I'll wait until you're a little more grown to tell you that. Then you'll understand everything I say."

Adam was not happy with Michael's answer and he was clearly pouting.

"Tell you what. The day you find that your dick gets stiff more often than just in the morning, or your dick is growing different that before, tell me, and I will tell you what you need to know. Now, just enjoy being who you are, a growing boy who has a lot of energy and a family that loves him."

Michael could tell that Adam was not too convinced but Michael reassured him, "Look Adam. I know that you are upset because your little sister seems to know more than you and you don't like it. Trust me. As you grow older, you'll find women less and less understandable. But now, you need to grow a little and then you will understand. You just have to be patient. You know the phrase, 'More haste, less speed'?"

Adam nodded his head. "Good night big brother."

"Good night."


Martin was in a room. It was completely bare. He saw Michael in the room wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else. Then Michael walked seductively to Martin and asked Martin to touch his chest. Martin reached out and began to feel it: so hard and strong, so masculine. Then Michael touched Martin. Whilst caressed by Martin, Michael removed Martin's clothes a piece at a time. When Martin was naked, he wanted to take off Michael's shorts but Michael shook his head. Michael reached for Martin's balls and fondled them. Martin's dick began to harden. Michael moved on to stroke Martin's dick. The fondling became more forceful and Martin could not hold off the inevitable. He exploded with pleasure.

Martin opened his eyes. His legs were wrapped round his sheets and they were sticky with semen. It was a wet dream. Martin had never had those since he turned twenty. He smiled. It was a pleasureable experience. As he remembered what his dream was about, Martin felt guilty and anxious. Why was his dream about Michael? Was he wishing that Michael masturbate him? Why did he have this dream?

----- to be continued.

Author's note: Comments are welcome, positive and negative. So far I have had some comments. They have been very helpful, so carry on sending me your suggestions. Thanks.

solark36@yahoo.co.uk

Next: Chapter 4


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