Copyright © 2010 by Jaden Lane, All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording , or by any information storage and retrieval storage system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner. (Permission to post electronically is given to www.nifty.org and its affiliated mirror sites only.)
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to any person, place, or written works are purely coincidental. It may contain consensual sex between young men. Do not read if you find that objectionable or if it is illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason.
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).:.(<<
If You Could Read My Mind
Neville is taking a break outside on the back loading dock and sneaking food to a stray cat when Josh comes walking up the ally for his dinner shift at the diner. The cat scurries away when it hears Josh approach. Tossing a remaining slice of ham in the snow for the skittish cat, Neville follows Josh inside, trying to convince him that everything he said a few nights ago about his family and being gay were just lies, "Uh, Josh, about what I told you the other night, I was lying and trying to push you away again because I was mad at you."
Bailey smiles at Josh, coming in the back entrance and removing his coat as he turns for the storage room, giving Bailey a wave as he and Neville pass by. Bailey normally has Sundays off, and this one has been a particularly long one, serving the downtown residents that have been shut in for a couple days by the weather. He's happy his shift is done as soon as Josh changes and takes over.
"You'd have a better chance of convincing me if Bailey and you weren't sporting matching hickeys today, and if you weren't dressed in his duds," Josh points out in the storage room as he grabs his work clothes from his gym bag.
Neville looks away as Josh toes off his shoes, "Oh. Never mind then. Please just promise me again that you'll keep what I've told you a secret?"
Unbuckling his belt, Josh answers, "Maybe. I've come up with another condition that you have to agree to first."
The blackmail makes Neville turn to Josh who's stepping out of his jeans. In a defeated tone he questions, "What's the new condition?"
After pulling his shirt over his head Josh replies, "The gym. No one else is serious about it anymore, and your pipe cleaners need some meat on them. All the same, somehow you always surprise me with what strength you have. I get the feeling you can hack the weights I lift."
Neville purposely looks Josh's nearly naked body over as he steps into old jeans that he only uses for work, "Fine. If you want me all buff then I guess I have no choice. Or do you just want me looking up your shorts to boost your ego?"
"Geez Nev, I get that you like guy's junk, but stop hitting on mine. I actually just want a weight partner that won't flake out on me and might be able to keep up with me. Even if you are gay," Josh says with a touch of scorn as he slips into a shirt he's also designated for work.
While Josh is stepping into a pair of work-destroyed shoes, Neville concedes, "Fine, blackmail me. I thought we were friends."
"You're always so fucking difficult! How do you want me to put it? Would you be my friend and help me out at the gym?" Josh angrily snaps at him, while hanging his street clothes from hooks on the back of the storage room door. Fully changed, he grabs an apron off the laundry shelf and brushes by Neville, leaving him smarting, "If you say no, we're still friends and I'm still not going to tell anyone what you told me the other night."
Bailey is already in the store room before Josh even has the apron tied up, ready to pounce on his boyfriend.
Neville casts Bailey a sullen look, "Give me a minute? I just pissed him off and I want to make it right. I'll catch you upstairs in a few?"
Bailey leans in for a kiss before rounding the corner and heading upstairs with a smile.
"I'm such a jerk, sorry," Neville says to Josh in the kitchen, after taking a moment to regain his composure in the storage room.
Not bothering to look up, Josh corrects him, "No, sometimes you're a downright asshole."
"I know. Look about the gym, I," Neville starts.
Josh cuts him off, "Yes or no? Are you capable of yes or no, or do you always have to flex your windbag and qualify everything? Anyway, hurry up. Mrs. Regan said that couple that always sit in the corner under the staircase are here and waiting for you. God, it's going to be a long night, I need another cigarette already."
"Oh, I guess I'm still working. I'll get to the O'Keefe's in a second, you might as well start their smothered roast beef sandwiches now. But will you just listen to me? Yes. I'll work out with you," Neville says and heads for the dining room. Inside he adds, `Although I don't know why. You damn well know I fantasize about you and you're not exactly down with it. I can't stop my eyes from seeing what they'll see. How long until you catch me looking and kick my butt? Why do you care about me so much all of a sudden? I'd ask you, but it would just be blowing my windbag in your eyes.'
).:.(<<
Neville finally finishes work when the diner closes at eight, as it customarily does now on Sundays. He has a lot on his mind and can't wait to see Crystal to tell her that his impending fatherhood was just a close scare. Staring out the window at a downtown that is glittering from streetlamps, Neville catches Brooke's reflection in the glass.
Turning to her he offers, "You can keep all my tips today if you can do something for me."
"Uh-oh, this ought to be good," Brooke says with intrigue.
"Uh, I think I've seen you drive your mom's SUV to the grocery store before. You can drive, right?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Well, I told you about Crystal before, and how I only get to see her when she's down here on Sundays? Is there any way I can con you with my tips to drive me out there now, and get you to finish the clean-up when you get back?"
"What?"
"I know, it's asking a lot. I have some stuff to tell her, you might know what, and I just really wanted to see her so she knows I'm safe."
"In this weather? I don't know," Brooke contemplates.
"Please? I have no chance of walking and getting there before midnight if I even make it, the way the sidewalks and shoulders are so completely iced over. Normally it's only like a ten minute drive to the truck stop though, so maybe fifteen or twenty minutes if you go slowly. And cars seemed to be doing fine on the streets all afternoon now that they have sand out."
"Fine, but I don't want whatever that old couple gave you today for a tip."
"Shampoo this week."
"Weird. Why do they do that?"
"I don't know for sure, but it saves me a trip from buying it myself," Neville says. He's contemplates, `It's true I suppose. I don't one hundred percent know for certain why. Ninety-nine percent maybe, so it's technically not a lie to you Brooke. But if you really want to know; when I couldn't afford even food from you when you guys opened up here, I'd been stealing things from their store that I couldn't pick up elsewhere.
I mean yeah, the odd hockey bag has a toothbrush or a razor in it, but that's just beyond my personal limits. I'll wear worn clothes off other guys because I have no choice, right down to socks and underwear, but I won't stoop to brushing my teeth with their nastied-up toothbrushes or risk nicking myself with their used razors. So you see, it was mostly toothbrushes I stole from the pharmacy, but only when I had spare change to buy toothpaste. Well, sometimes razors too, but usually I lifted those at Wal-Mart. I figure they knew. Then when I got a job with you guys I stopped stealing from them altogether.
I guess she knew I was going to steal those cold pills but I couldn't do it to them anymore. I went back when I was feeling better and happily bought everything I could need, so that for once not everything I had was stolen. That's when she must have kept the receipt of everything I prefer, so now they supply me weekly with one of the cheap necessities. Shampoo, deodorant, a tooth brush and toothpaste, soap and a shower sponge, all on a four week rotation, and candy that I give to Bethany or keep for Crystal if they come in for a second visit in the week. I know it works out to more than what a tip would be in money and I really appreciate it. I buy my own razors from Wal-Mart so they don't start tipping me with those expensive things too.
So, I can't exactly tell you they give me these things so I don't have to buy or steal them. It probably won't be a Kodak moment from a very special episode of 7th Heaven when you guys find out the root cause of the weird tips is that I used to steal from them. You'll be worried I'm stealing from you too. Then one day someone will realize you go through way more crackers than you should, and that they disappear in my pockets and my book-bag, which I put on the shelf right next to the boxes of them. Then you'll notice it's not mice stealing the little end pieces of cheese, and so on.'
Noticing Brooke looking at him, he realizes she said something in response but he doesn't know what, "Sorry, tuned out there for a moment."
"Normally it takes people years of practice to block me out like that," Brooke kids as she hands Neville nearly forty dollars, "I should keep your tip money for that alone, but here's your share. Help me finish up here first. Chop-chop! It's the stop just outside the city where the Trans-Canada heads towards the Confederation Bridge, right?"
"Uh, yeah. That's the one. You're awesome, thanks so much!"
).:.(<<
After getting dropped off by Brooke, Neville waits until her taillights are gone from sight before starting to look for Crystal's truck. Going through the rows of trucks that gather overnight before making their way mainland on Monday mornings, Neville franticly checks and rechecks for her truck. Thinking maybe she has a rental, he cruises through the truck-stop diner for Crystal. Back outside, he checks once more before losing hope. He always feared this day would come. Looking around, he heads around the side of the building to get out of the wind and think.
Sitting on an oil drum and contemplating the long walk back home, Neville is startled when Corey Duggan approaches him, "Hey Bag-boy. I didn't see your mom's rig tonight, dude."
"Uh, thanks," Neville replies to his schoolmate without looking up.
At school the most Corey would normally say to Neville would be some sort of taunt or put-down to fit in with his friends. One on one, he actually feels a little sorry for him so he adds, "There's another truck that has her load this week. I recognised the trailer when he filled up. That black one with the running lights off over there."
"Oh. Thanks."
Turning to walk away now that his good deed is done, Corey responds without looking back at Neville, "Yeah."
"Hey," Neville calls to Corey's back, "Was it a guy named Andre by any chance?"
Turning around and walking backwards to the diesel pumps, he answers, "I don't think so. Dude definitely had a different last name from you is all I remember for sure. He didn't much look like you either. Michel something, maybe? I don't know. Sorry Bag-boy."
"Thanks," Neville says, not loud enough to be heard. He does nod his head at Corey in thanks, however.
Approaching the truck that his classmate pointed out, Neville has a bad feeling about everything. He knocks a bunch of times at the rig before a trucker one truck over shares that the driver is inside eating. Neville stands up from the running boards when the driver returns to his rig after almost an hour of waiting.
"Excuse me sir, Crystal Reilly; is she okay?"
The driver responds in French. Speaking strictly in French, Neville learns that Crystal has in fact had another health emergency. Nothing life threatening for now, or so the driver heard, but she needs some time off to get herself together. Neville realizes that he was right about her neglecting her diabetes. As a single and slightly overweight woman in her early forties she seems to be giving up in his eyes. After thanking the driver for the information he starts the long walk home over the icy terrain.
He thinks back to a period almost a year ago when Crystal first got diagnosed with diabetes. She was off then for almost two months.
).:.(<<
Almost a year ago in May of 1999, near the end of Grade 10, Neville is beginning to feel that the time of year is unlucky for him. Having made his way to the truck stop on a warm evening, he climbs Crystal's truck and opens the passenger door as always. The response from inside startles him and makes him jerk backwards. Losing his balance, he pushes off the truck in his loose fitting and worn shoes, ending up on the packed dirt and gravel parking lot in just his mis-matched socks. Ready to skedaddle once he recovers his shoes, the occupant of Crystal's truck swings the door wide open and calls his name.
It turns out the driver, Andre, is a long-time acquaintance and former co-worker of Crystal's from a previous employer. He breaks the news that Crystal has had a minor accident, falling down some stairs at her apartment. The fall is the result of a black-out. The blackout, it's discovered, is symptomatic of her diabetes, which is discovered in the hospital as a result of a routine check up after her fall. Something close to shock sets in as Neville realizes he may lose the only real person in his life. All he carries from the conversation is that Crystal fell victim to a real-life vicious circle, but is going to be fine.
Crystal has sub-contracted her work to Andre until she recovers and gets her diabetes settled. Part of her agreement with Andre is that on his runs down to Charlottetown, she wants him to buy dinner for Neville every week with money she provides, and to report back to her as to how he is doing. On his fifth week filling in for Crystal, Neville meets Andre with most of his belongings, one of which is a report card with an average grade of 97.5 percent. With the school year now finished, Neville is adamant on Andre bringing him back to Montreal with him so that he can visit with Crystal.
Neville's hope is to help Crystal get better and move in with her permanently. He sees her as a mother figure and has developed a strong dependence to her. Feeling his French is at least passable, if not adequate, he wants nothing more than to live with her and go to school and have a part time job on the side. Essentially he wants a normal kid's life.
Within days he finds Crystal's hospitality a little cold and disingenuous. While she struggles daily with what and when she should be eating to control her diabetes, her mood sours even more. She really likes Neville, but having him show up out of the blue to share her living space stresses her out. Her one room apartment is not built for visitors, and certainly not for permanent guests. She does allow him to share her small quarters, but worries that he can't live that way for long. He's a teenage boy, something she's not in any way prepared to deal with full time.
Numerous attempts to get a job fail for Neville, so once Crystal returns to her truck runs he turns to what he's now perfecting. He's an expert at seeing opportunity for petty theft of food and clothes, and plies his skill at both often. To pass the time he resorts to panhandling for actual money.
The summer is never lucrative for him, but worsens as it progresses. It seems that no matter where he tries to panhandle in the downtown core he gets sent away by foot-patrol police officers. On the suggestion of one sympathetic businessman he tries the old-town part of the city where tourism is more prevalent. He does better in this area but some days he gets chased after by a group of teenagers. Eventually they start bothering him on a daily basis. While he often manages to evade or escape them by staying in crowds, a few times he is cornered and is left with nothing to even ride to the subway back to Crystal's.
While he learns the city, Crystal puts off enrolling him in school. She loves him in her way, but in her heart of hearts she doesn't want full responsibility of him. Seeing his troubles only strengthens her resolve. The last straw for her is when he describes almost getting caught and arrested for stealing a bag of buns and a bottle of juice off an unattended delivery truck. He's never stolen from her, at home or from her truck, but she's worried he's become too delinquent for her to possibly handle.
Telling Neville that the school requires his real documentation, and therefore his identity will be known, Crystal convinces him that his best option is to return to the little life he's carved out for himself in Charlottetown. It pains her to lie, but she truly does believe he's better off as he's been living the past year on his own than he is with her.
Neville recognises that she's lying, but he also understands her motives and that she truly does think it's best for him. He's watched her struggle to let him stay with her. He's watched her struggle with the burden of deciding what is best. Instead of fighting her, he lies and says he agrees that going back to Charlottetown for grade 11 is the best option for him.
It's the only time he's been disappointed in Crystal. He turns the disappointment unto himself as he realizes that Crystal is just not emotionally or financially able to be his full time guardian. Two weeks before school resumes, Neville returns to once again take up occupancy in the back corner of the arenas' storage room.
).:.(<<
Currently reminiscing in his mind as he walks back from the truck stop, Neville reflects, `I guess it's also a good decision this time that I didn't run off to Montreal to get out of the Regan's lives. Too many people along Rue Sainte-Catherine may still recognise me dining and dashing from their diners and restaurants, or grabbing food and running out of the fast food joints without paying. And I never did manage to find the gay village either!'
His legs are sore, his face and feet are frozen, his energy is low when he finds himself still blocks from the diner he works at. His home is twice as far away. Every step he takes towards home becomes a mental struggle. Part of him just wants to get home, part of him wants to not walk the extra blocks. Exhaustion wins out and leads him up the fire escape to Bailey's bedroom door.
He tries knocking, but either his knuckles are too frozen to rouse Bailey or he's a sound sleeper. Moving across the landing, Neville leans against the tiled windows to stare at his boyfriend. Closing his eyes for a moment, he falls asleep against the window. A gust of wind jolts him awake moments later. Frozen to the core, he decides to try the door once more before he has to make his way back to the arena. His hand grasps the doorknob as he steadies himself on the slippery metal landing. As he's about to try knocking again he discovers that the doorknob has turned in his hand.
A split second decision later, he closes the door behind himself and kicks off his shoes. He removes his coat as quiet as possible and hangs it over the doorknob. Circling Bailey's bed, he stops at the hamper and retrieves Bailey's sleepwear from the last two nights. Based on information from Brooke, it doesn't surprise him to see Bailey is sleeping in the very same unwashed shorts and top that he wore to bed himself for the past two nights. Forgoing modesty, he strips out of his sodden clothes, borrowed from Bailey, and sets them aside once he's in Bailey's sleeping pants.
After rummaging for a sweater in the hamper, Neville sets the alarm clock on his digital watch for 5 am. That, he hopes, will give him enough time to hit the arena and have a shower before he has to get ready for school. He snags a pillow from the bed, gently prying it from Bailey's grip. The last thing he does before lying down on the sofa-bed that is currently set up as a couch, is to kiss Bailey on the lips. Bailey instinctively kisses back in his sleep.
Neville wakes shortly after dozing off. Parts of his body are complaining to his brain as he thaws out in the warm room. Uncomfortable and moving around a lot, Neville decides to sprawl out on the floor on the other side of Bailey's bed in hopes of getting some restful sleep, while not being visible from his hallway door. The wooden floor is hard and cool, but makes no sound when Neville moves about. He also thinks the lack of comfort provided by the hard floor helps a little to lessen the sensations associated with coming out of mild hypothermia.
Neville starts to snore when he finally does manage to find sleep. Rare for him, it's enough to raise Bailey from his sleep. Bailey creeps over to the side of his bed ever so slowly so that he can get a glimpse of his intruder before deciding how to deal with the person. With the streetlight from the alley that shines against his ceiling and somewhat illuminates his room, he's surprised to see Neville asleep and shivering on his floor.
Neville's eyes shoot open upon hearing a shift in the bedsprings. When their eyes lock, Bailey reaches his arm down and grabs a fistful of the hoodie that Neville is wearing. Gently pulling, he indicates without words for Neville to join him in the bed.
Neville is emotionally and physically drained when Bailey tentatively kisses him. Knowing Bailey is waiting for a response from him, Neville gives in to both Bailey and his desires. Parts of Neville's body are still numb as they kiss and entwine their bodies together. His penis however is not, and it reacts to the lust coursing through him. After adjusting himself a few times he lets his hand wanders over to Bailey's erection and starts feeling and stroking it through the shorts. Taking that to mean Neville is ready for the next step, Bailey leans back.
Shortly after things start heating up, Bailey pulls his top off and tosses it to the floor. Neville laughs at his pragmatic thoughts, `I don't know why you took off your top. The shorts are what's in the way. Here, let's do something about that! Wait. What am I thinking? Can I touch your privates? Should I ask permission? You don't mind me groping you through the shorts right now. No, we're definitely both enjoying where my hand is. This is just too cool! This is just way too amazing! I want to feel it for real.'
Before Bailey can settle back into a comfortable position he gasps as Neville's hand slides up a leg of the shorts and makes skin on skin contact for the first time, gently but firmly taking hold of him. Neville starts stroking his boyfriend, barely able to contain his excitement. Bailey responds by trying to fish a hand under the waistband of the track pants Neville has borrowed. He stops short when Neville tugs at his shorts and gets them halfway to his knees in one motion. He takes the hint and looses the shorts so that Neville has unobstructed access to his groin.
For a moment he just stares and smiles. He really does think Bailey is hot. He likes him in clothes, but the attraction turns to desire when he's naked. Drinking in Bailey's nude form makes the blood surge harder into his own erection. His gaze zeros in on the cock jutting out of his boyfriend's trimmed crotch. Well read and with the command of an extensive vocabulary well beyond his years, Neville would be short of words to describe the splendour and gravity of all the emotions he's feeling.
Rolling back, Neville hooks his hands under his own waistband and gets the track pants to his feet. As uncoordinated as it looks, he manages to kick them off and shed the hooded sweater at roughly the same moment, letting both fly wherever they may. He gets right back to quietly, but fervourously, stroking his boyfriend.
As exhausted as he is, when Bailey's kitchen hardened fingers close around his own leaking member Neville is already at the brink. Feeling the impending orgasm building within himself, he quickly removes Bailey's hand and directs it towards his own member.
Neville bashfully explains, "Sorry, I'm like, one pump away because you're too damn hot. But your hand there is the most amazing thing I've ever felt, next to yours in my hand."
Bailey gets the less than subtle hint that there will be no mutual play for now, and goes to work on himself as they watch each other. Neville tries to hold off by not touching himself but the visual in front of him is too much. He's going to ejaculate whether he helps it along or not. Giving in to his inevitable orgasm, Neville gives Bailey quite a show. Normally quiet the rare times that he indulges himself, Bailey has to muffle him with a pillow. Basking in the afterglow once he's come down from his own high, Neville watches as Bailey finishes the job that he started, joining him in euphoric bliss.
"Wow," Bailey says with a huge smile.
Neville corrects, "Double wow!"
Bailey throws on his boxers that didn't make their way into the hamper earlier and quickly washes off in the bathroom. After ringing out the wash cloth under hot water he brings it back to his room and hands it to Neville. Neville also cleans himself off and dresses while Bailey goes outside for a cigarette.
Back in bed, both their minds are racing but not another word is spoken as Bailey falls asleep, wrapped in Neville's embrace. Kissing Bailey once more now that he fast asleep, Neville murmurs, "I love you Bailey Regan."
).:.(<<
Waking to the first beeps of his watch alarm, Neville waits until Bailey's sleep settles back to a slow rhythm of breathing before he gets out of bed. Standing over the bed in the pants he's borrowed that now are suspiciously low on his thighs, he watches Bailey sleep once more, `Oh Bailey you silly goose, it was fun pretending to be asleep while you woke up and briefly violated me later on, front and back with your curious hands.
Not sure how you believed I was asleep through it all, but whatever, it was wild! Play with my hole like that again and you better be ready to shove something hard, awesome, and condom-clad in there; that was totally insane! And still, you thought it somehow didn't wake me? Damn, if I had let you know I was awake I swear on my life I wouldn't still be a virgin. At least you stopped and apologised when you thought I wasn't waking up, even if it was redundant because you thought I was asleep.
But seriously, pull my pants back up next time! I would have but I fell asleep for real while waiting for you to settle back down afterwards. You sure sounded like you had a good time with yourself; I wish I had opened my eyes for the show. At least you wiped me off again but how did you plan on explaining me waking with my pants down? And where do we go from here? You're irresistible, and somehow I have to keep things from getting to far.'
He quietly picks up the damp clothing that he wore yesterday and places it in Bailey's hamper. From Bailey's drawers Neville sneaks a pair of boxers and socks, and stuffs them in the pouch of the hoodie he's wearing. He shoves his bare feet into his uncomfortable shoes and puts on his coat that is mostly dry of his sweat inside from his long trek only hours ago. He stealthily slips out the door and down the fire escape to the loading dock below. Stopping only briefly in the ally to pet the stray cat he's befriending, Neville makes his way to the arena in haste.
Arriving too late to sneak into his new home, he pulls out his equipment bag from its hiding spot in his old bat-cave and dresses in a change room next to it, joining the morning shinny players on the ice. As he talks on the bench to some of the men, he gets a sense that they all assume he is Davis Millar's nephew, and an employee at the arena. By the time everyone hits the change rooms he lags behind them, waiting until he's the last one to hit the showers. All the men around him race to get dressed and head to work while he takes his time. Once he's dressed and the last of the morning players has left, he risks sneaking across to his new home. The high school hockey team is now practising on the ice, but no one is sitting or standing diagonally across from his door on the home team's bench to see him slip into his new home.
Exhausted, he strips off the hoodie and track pants and sprawls out on the bed he's fashioned out of goalie pads. Even though it's nowhere near Bailey's bed, it's pure bliss to him, so he immediately sits up to prevent falling asleep. Now in boxers and socks, he rummages through his clothes to replace Bailey's sleeping pants and the hoodie he borrowed without asking. As he dresses, he realizes he forgot to move over his meagre store of food, but can't risk it now. Looking at his watch, he figures he has five minutes before the team on the ice hits the showers, only enough time to slip out of the arena.
He's tired and wants nothing more than to eat and sleep, but heads to the school cafeteria first to take care of one need before camping out in the school library until it's time to head to his first class. Halfway through his second morning class he privately asks his teacher to be excused, citing a made-up doctor's appointment at noon. He heads directly to the hardware store a couple blocks away to get two keys cut for his new home. The second one he intends to stash somewhere on Bailey's fire escape or roof as a back-up. He gets back to school just in time for lunch, where Josh leads him to the weight room.
All afternoon he can't wait for the day to be over. Then all that stands in the way of his first night in his new bed is work. At work he's gracious and thankful to Bailey for letting him stay yet another night and not pushing him as to why he showed up in the middle of the night. Bailey doesn't even give him a hard time for technically breaking in; instead pointing out that now Neville knows his outside door is practically always unlocked. Just before midnight, after finally sneaking his way into his home and returning the stolen key, Neville stretches out on his very own new bed. Too tired to do anything about his aroused state when thinking about both he and Bailey possibly sleeping in each other's worn sleepwear again, sleep promptly claims him.
).:.(<<
The next morning Neville gets up at the same time again in order to talk to Davis, as the arena manager goes about his morning routine, "Davis, can we talk? I was exploring a bit and found a better place under the visitor's bench in the equipment storage room. Do you think I can move into there instead?"
Davis grumbles, "I should have never shown that other kid your room. He's been gone for years and you've still got what, one more year of school to go? You're not even holding up your end of things. Many a night lately you've been forgetting your cleaning."
"You're right. I've totally slacked off lately," Neville admits.
"You finally got a boyfriend? That's where you go on the cold nights, ya?"
Neville blushes.
"I'll take that as a yes. Here's the deal kid; 6 nights a week. I know it's asking a lot but so is letting you live here. Deal?" Davis suggests.
Neville presses his luck, "Deal. Oh, one more thing. Most everyone thinks I actually live across the street with you and work here anyways, so being in here isn't that much of a stretch. But I was hoping it would be okay with you if I started playing shinny with the early morning crowd, or sometimes with the late night crowd?"
"Knock yourself out kid. Next time you think of it when the place is empty, make yourself a nametag in the office so you look official."
"Awesome! Thanks Davis," Neville enthuses. He got everything he wanted without having to really give up anything, `Cleaning the rooms at night so that Davis can turn in earlier isn't much of a concession for having a safely hidden home. As far as homeless go, I have a sweet deal. Compared to the bridge under the train tracks, this place really is the Ritz Carlton. Heck, this place is the Taj Mahal compared to that cold and wet bridge with its scary theives. And I also got an even better idea from talking to him! If I have to move again, I'll move into his house. I know for a fact that it is actually his house provided to him as the park groundskeeper and arena manager. If he's hoarded so much junk that he can't even live in it anymore he may never notice me if I have to shack up in it!'
Neville races across the hall to his old hideout before Davis unlocks the doors for the first shinny players. By the time a couple faces from yesterday join him in the change room, Neville has stashed his food supplies on top of his new bed and is half dressed in his hockey equipment.
).:.(<<
Having played shinny to start the day for two days in a row, Neville again is low on energy come lunch, "Not today Josh. I'm going to have to ease into this. I played morning shinny yesterday and today and I'm wiped out. Maybe we can do Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for now?"
"You just want to spend lunch with you-know-who," Josh teases.
"Yeah, that's definitely part of it, but I really mean it. I'm wiped out. I've had less than ten hours sleep in the last two days; I'm running on empty here. Only eight hours sleep actually."
"Alright. So you're playing shinny without me?"
"Yeah. I'd have called you to join, but they haven't run the phone line to my new bedroom yet."
"Don't be snippy. I invited you to play with the guys."
"Yeah and they had a lot of fun with that I'm sure. Since then Corey Duggan called me Bag-boy twice in one brief conversation, so that name's started up again. I thought they were actually being nice to me that day too. Speaking of which, people can see you talking to me."
"Good! People can also see this too then," Josh says and initiates a typically youthful male handshake before heading to the cafeteria, "Tomorrow, Nev. Every weightlifter needs a solid partner. No excuses."
Pulling a cheese sandwich he made before school out of his backpack, Neville smiles as he watches the cafeteria line. Two people back from the cashier is his boyfriend, smiling back at him in a mock-neck sweater and his favourite pair of jeans that show off his ass so well. Thinking back to yesterday, his guess is that Brooke or Megan hid Bailey's hickey with cover-up yesterday because it wasn't on display like his. Thinking about his own hickey, Neville's proud to wear it like a badge because it came from Bailey.
[to be continued]
).:.(<<
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