The Bakery 1
Author: phobicphurry
Rating: strong R
Pairing: Liebgott/Webster, Winnix, Speirs/Lipton, Babe/Roe
Summary: A little bakery in a big town can make a massive impact on people's lives.
Disclaimer: Don't own any of these people. I'm just having fun with them . No disrespect intended. I may have also broken the internet.
Joe Liebgott looked up form behind the counter of the bakery and moaned. The kid was around his age and greener than the Statue of Liberty. He knew he was coming, but none the less, he thought that at least he would look the part at least a bit, instead of looking like he should be behind a desk at a museum.
“You Webster?”
“David K,” nodded the man.
“What’s the K for?”
“Uhh...Kenyon.”
“Jeez.” Liebgott shook his head and just stared at the boy. “You had to think about that one? I heard you’re lookin for a job out of college. Harvard, yeah?
“Yeah. And you? What’s with you?” Webster cocked an eyebrow. Liebgott smirked.
“Liebgott. Joseph T.”
“What’s the T for?” Webster’s face was the picture of innocence. He was purely curious. His
light blue eyes scanned Liebgott’s dark ones.
“Who’s askin?” The skinny face twisted up into a smirk.
“Just curious,” he replied defensively.
“Ah. So you’re not a lawyer or anything.”
“No.”
“Well?”
“English literature.” Webster sounded proud of himself and Liebgott smirked again. “Are you going to tell me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“No.” Liebgott crossed his arms over his chest, being the picture of stubborn.
“That wasn’t even a real answer to the question.”
“Now the college boy’s thinking!” Lieb raised his hand to the ceiling. “Look, kid. You see that sign out there?” He pointed out the door, where you could not in fact see a sign, but understood his point. Webster turned, looking for it, and realized the point. “That’s why. Now, you’re not going to be making anything until I know you can handle yourself, so I need you to run this over to a friend of mine, Lew Nixon. His ma’s having a party and needs this cake. Here’s the address. You know your way around here, right?”
Webster nodded.
“Good. Now get moving, delivery boy!” Liebgott shooed him out of the building and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. “Webster,” he said under his breath. “Dad? Dad!” Joe went back into the kitchen to find his father and brother. “Webster showed up.”
“Hm?” His father tilted his head and his brother wasn’t even paying attention.
“Webster. You know, the college kid lookin for a job?”
“Oh, yes. How is he?”
“Alright. A little raw for my tastes, though.”
“Then you’re just going to have to heat him up.”
Joe smirked. “Sounds good.” He turned on his heel and returned to the counter just as a taller man with wavy hair and mud-brown eyes walked in and looked to the left, eyeing up some doughnuts.
“Welcome to Liebgott and Son’s. How may I help you?” Joe’s face lit up a bit as the man looked around slowly and his eyes finally settled on the man in front of him. He smiled and it sent minuscule shivers down Lieb’s spine.
“Could I get a Boston Creme?” The man tilted his head and smiled a bit again, but it was wiped from his face quickly as Joe moved to get the doughnut. They didn’t break eye contact until Joe reached down to get the pastry from off the tray. He wrapped it up and placed it on the counter, slowly pushing it to where the man could reach it.
“How much?” His voice was quiet and firm. He ran his tongue over his lips and stared at the man who was probably a few years younger than him.
“Twenty-five cents, sir.”
The man pulled out a quarter and gently placed it on the counter. “Thank you.” His eyes met Joe’s and their fingers touched as Joe drew back the quarter and placed it in the register drawer. “What’s your name, kid?” The man’s smile was a little less creepy this time.
“Joe.” The blank stare on his face made the smile of the man grow a little more.
“Tell your dad I need some bread at my house, 321 Maple Way. Italian, please, and three loaves of it. I’m going out of town today, so I can’t pick it up. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Name, sir?” Asked Joe, looking up from his order form.
“Ron Speirs.”
Joe nodded and wrote the name down, looking at it for a second. “Hey, Dad?” Joe yelled, walking back to the back again. “A Ron Speirs wants three loaves of Italian by tonight.”
“Alright. Thanks. I’ll get right on it.”
Joe came back out to find Webster standing there, a little sweaty from the bike ride.
“You found the place alright?”
“Yeah, I found it. That dog...” Webster was breathless. Joe laughed a high pitched, sarcastic laugh that caused Webster’s face to redden a little bit.
“It’s a damn good dog.”
“Yeah, at scaring the shit out of you.” Liebgott snorted.
“Got that right. Hey, delivery boy, you’re not that bad.” A small smirk played on Joe’s
lips. “Not as big of a prick as I thought.”
“I could say the same thing about you,” Webster quipped. “Anything else you need me to do?”
“Nah. Just hang around for a bit. I’ll be sending you off to some creep’s house soon if my dad hurries up.”
“What about your brother?”
“Workin’ on a cake.”
“Really? For who?”
“Not you, college boy.” Joe turned his back and began arranging some things on the back counter.
“Yeah, I gathered.” Webster sighed and looked about at the jars of sugar up on the shelved behind the pastries. They were all in different colored porcelain containers and stood out in a nice contrast against the smooth green wall paper. The display cases were wrapped around in a big U and had many different delicacies. Webster ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head. He noticed Joe hand turned back and was leaning on the counter, arms crossed, staring at him.
The bell of the door rang and in came a guy with short, moppy brown hair and a massive grin.
“George Luz! How ya doing, buddy? What can I get for you today?” Lieb smiled and stood, glancing at Webster.
“Yeah, who’s this?” Asked Luz, gesturing to the boy with baby blue eyes and an extremely confused look.
“Dave Webster, meet my best pal, George Luz.”
“Pleasure,” said Webster, stretching out his hand.
“Like wise.”
George continued talking with Lieb and Webster crossed his arms, listening as the learned about the two and their relationship toward one another. Lieb got them all a coffee and all of a sudden, Luz turned and gave Webster a once over.
“So what’s his deal?”
“Web?” LIebgott looked over to him allowing him to explain.
“I needed a job out of college, and I talked to Mr. Liebgott and he let me try it out.”
“Another prick. Honestly. You could do better, Lieb.”
Webster shook his head. This wasn’t going to be easy.
“Hey, Web,” said Joe as his father and brother walked out the door, leaving Joe by himself.
“How was the creep?”
Webster turned his head around to face the man. “Speirs? Intimidating. I thought he was going to take me inside, take all my clothes off, and just experiment me until the cows came home.”
“Ain’t no cows in town,” Lieb grinned. “So tell me about Speirs.”
“Odd. That’s all I can really say about him.” Webster stared into the display case, but his eyes didn’t really focus on anything. “Are you here by yourself?”
“Yeah. This place is open 24/7, so someone has to man the non-busy hours.” Lieb smirked. “So how about college? What’s that like?” Lieb went into his favorite pose, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed, ankles overlapping each other.
“Fine. Boring, but I guess I would say I’m happiest when I read.” Webster’s face lit up a little bit, thinking of the prospect of digging his nose into a book, smelling the paper, and checking out the contrast between the black words and white pages. He looked around sharply for any reading material. “Do you like books?”
“Eh. Sometimes. Depends on who’s writing. Not one for the classics, more of the sci-fi, or some that are contraband in most countries.”
“I guess I can’t argue with that.” Webster smiled shyly. Lieb tilted his head and Webster only now realized how clammy and pale his skin looked in the greenish industrial light.
“Nah. What, you like Dickens and shit like that, right?”
“Not shit.”
“Yeah, ok. Bet you slash him with his characters.” Lieb smirked again.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Are you?” Lieb stood and met Webster in the center of the marble white tiled floor, their
faces inches apart. Webster respected Dickens, but didn’t particularly love him. Lieb’s lips were puckered and his eyes were wide in challenge. Despite the fact that Lieb was shorter, he made up for it in attitude.
“I have nothing to kid.”
“Yeah, alright. You just want him in your bed with you.” Joe shoved him toward the door, but still chased him to get inches from his face again. “Gay,” he breathed.
“What?”
“You’re gay,” he said simply, backing off to behind the counter.
“What makes you say that?” Webster cocked an eyebrow. He was right, but that didn’t mean he was going to let on, yet. He poked something on the ground with his shoe. “Joe, what are you talking about?”
“It’s just obvious. I mean, come on. The way you blushed when George came in? Bet you think he’s cute.” Liebgott’s sneer was in his voice and it pierced Webster. “Bet you wanted Speirs to take your clothes off. I have to admit he wasn’t that bad looking for a guy.” He had
returned to his original position.
“You’re an ass.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Nothin you can do about it, though, Webby. Called Liebgott and Sons.
You want to leave, leave. I won’t stop you.”
Webster turned around and looked outside, analyzing the weather. Rain was starting to fall and a car drove by, it’s headlight illuminating the drops. It make the scene inside seem more eerie than necessary. “I’m not going anywhere,” Webster said without turning, his jaw tightening.
“So you are...you know...gay.” It was a statement.
“You say so.”
“Now you’re quoting the fucking Bible? Give me a break, Dave.” He could head Joe snort and roll his eyes.
“It’s the Bible, Lieb. People do that.” An edge was catching in his voice and lightning flashed and thunder followed, causing Webster to stiffen.
“You scared of that?”
“Thunder?”
“If you want that to be the question.” Liebgott was now behind him and Webster hadn’t noticed his chest pressed to his back, whispering in his ear and breathing down his neck.
“Jesus Christ, Joe!” Webster backed up into the door. Joe pursued him, getting close to his face again.
“Lemme in on a little secret that everyone in this town knows,” he said, smirking, and nearly pressing his lips on the glass to speak into Webster’s ear. “You’re not the only queer in this room.” Their cheeks brushed as Liebgott pulled away and headed to the back of the room. The stubble on Websters cheek had tickled him and he rubbed the place where it brushed his smooth skin. “But I’ll be damned if you try and hit on any one of my friends, or me for that matter. You ain’t my type.”
“You like the cynical assholes?”
“No, just not preppy bitches who can’t get girls.”
“Do you want to take this somewhere else?”
“Yeah, but not where you want to take it.” LIbgott had raised himself onto the counter, his
legs swinging peacefully.
“Jesus Christ. I can’t stand this. Could you just shut up for a second?”
A pause. “Alright. There you go.”
“Fuck, you know what I mean. Stop being so childish.”
“I wouldn’t be childish if you fucking elaborated sometimes.” Webster crossed his arms and leaned against the display case. “Get the fuck out of my store.” Both of their gazes hardened at the same time. “No, fuck that. Stay here. I want to relish in your humiliation. How far can you go before you walk out?”
“I’m not listening to you.”
“For a college boy, you sure as hell are stupid. You thought you were the mature one.” Liebgott turned around and pressed a button. Some Led Zeppelin pounded through the stereo.
“Come on, you don’t even want to see what I have?”
“I’ve seen it all, delivery boy,” said Liebgott, lighting up a cigarette. He offered one to Webster, who held up his hand.
“No, thanks. I don’t smoke.”
“Right.” He stuffed the pack back into his pocket and patted it affectionately.
“Well, I guess I know where your relationship lies. Luz must be one hell of a fuck.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Liebgott’s eyes snapped up to him.
“Or are you screwing the smokes?”
“Never.” Joe smirked at David, and Webster felt his cheeks redden. “I don’t do camels. Now, you, on the other hand....what do you like to screw? Men, obviously, but what kind? Probably your average Harvard prick.”
“Yeah, they’re pretty good.” Webster rolled his eyes. He hadn’t so much as kissed a man let alone spent a night with one. Unfortunately, Liebgott called his bluff.
“Holy shit, you’ve never been kissed. Not even in, like, middle school with all that angst crap going around? Could have sworn it was an epidemic.” He reached a long-fingered hand over and turned the radio down. Lieb tilted his head, taking the man in front of him in. He was taking the bait. “I’m not going to be your first, kid.” He wanted to. He was experienced. Webster deserved someone who knew what he was doing. He watched as Webster sighed, slightly disappointed. It was all a matter of placement, now.
“Come on. It must be a challenge for you. Brand new fuck-mate.”
“Yeah, like I need a new one.” Liebgott smirked. He never had one. Not even a girl. So they were both virgins. This made it all the more exciting. “I’m busy with the one I have.” Joe shot David a promiscuous look. “Maybe more, but it doesn’t matter for you.”
“You know that’s dangerous, right?”
“Better than getting twenty girls pregnant. Then you get stuck with their kid. Obviously your fault.”
“Yeah, obviously.” Webster stared at the wall. When he looked back, Joe was walking toward him, licking his bottom lip.
“Lemme show you something,” Lieb said, taking his hand and leading him back to the back room where he closed the door.
Joe pushed him back against the wall and got his face close to Webster again. “Look at you. You’re a snivelling mess every time I get close to you. Every time I...touch you.” Joe ran his hand over David’s face, down his neck, and down to his broad chest, rubbing circles on select parts of his defined pecs. Webster lip was trembling. “You are so fucking tight.” Joe moaned the last word, backing away and Webster gasped. The tease was fun. Joe smirked and found Webster’s mouth hanging wide open.
“Wonder what you could fit in there, Web.” The smirk grew and David put his hand on the stainless steel table, supporting himself. Liebgott filled a piping bag and twisted it, causing icing to land on his left index finger. “Web?” His voice was high as he studied the sugary glob on his finger.
“What?” He groaned.
“You wanna clean this off?” He wiggled his finger and stretched out his arm. He was just close enough that Webster only had to move a little bit to wrap his lips around his finger and clean it off. Webster straightened.
“No, thanks. There’s a sink over there.” Webster indicated the place right beside where he had been pushed against the wall.
Lieb’s bottom lip puckered out. “You’re no fun,” he pouted, tilting his head, putting on irresistible puppy eyes, and frowning. Joe walked over and made a show of washing his hands. His eyes had chilled a little as he gently pulled David over to behind a cake. He placed the icing bag in his hand and stood behind him, guiding his hand to make intricate designs on it.
David closed his eyes, engrossing himself in the moment. He didn’t even know the guy, but this felt good. There were little consequences with people who you barely knew. And if the ‘job’ didn’t work out, it didn’t work out.
“You’re still too tight,” Lieb breathed in his ear. “Loosen up.” Webster shot his eyes open and turned, looking at the man that was staring intently at him. Web tilted his head to one side, taking him in. Two could play at this game. He leaned his head open, and Liebgott closed his eyes, attempting to meet him. At the last second, Webster moved out of the way, but Lieb anticipated and kissed the corner of Webster’s wet mouth.
They stared at each other and Liebgott scratched his head.
“This isn’t going to go over too well with your fuck mate, is it?”
“It wouldn’t if he existed,” he whispered.
“I can’t believe you lied to me,” said Webster, looking affronted.
“Eh. Who gives a shit?” Liebgott grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him toward him when the bell of the front door announced that a customer had entered and was looking for service. “Fuck this job,” said Joe Liebgott, leading the way from the back room.
Webster stared after him, open-mouthed. He pushed the swinging door open and stared at the man standing in front of the counter. He was tall with bright red hair and small, red lips. His eyes were an icy blue and every gaze he have sent warm, comforting feelings down to the pit of Webster’s stomach. He wore dark, faded blue jeans and a black Ramones shirt with a plain white long-sleeved shirt underneath. “Hello,” he said, meeting Web’s eyes.
“Hello,” Webster replied. He returned his gaze back to Liebgott, who promptly turned around, got what the man wanted, and handed it to him. The man paid, and smiled a bit uneasily at the two of them.
“Dick Winters,” he said, stretching out a hand to Joe, then to Webster. “I’m sorry I had to come in so late. There was no time in the day.” He turned around and looked outside, sighing
at the rain.
“You want some coffee, Dick?” Asked Joe, glancing over at Web for a second before pouring some into his own cup.
“Sure, if it’s not too much trouble. I’m taking summer courses at the community college and I might as well study.” He glance over at the table that was right in front of the window. Dick put his book bag down and sat there, taking his coffee happily from Liebgott. “Thanks.”
“Any time, sir.” Liebgott mocked a salute. Winters chuckled and shook his head. “Hey, Web!” Joe turned back to the delivery boy and tapped his shoulder, taking him back to the back room again.
“Now...what the fuck was that about? I ain’t gonna be your first.”
“Yeah, nor am I.” Webster crossed his arms.
“You know what?”
“What?”
“Go upstairs. I’ve got this for tonight?”
“What? You gonna go flirt with Dick out there?”
“I can’t help that his name’s an innuendo for my sexual preference.” Joe practically yelled it if Webster handn’t placed his hand on Joe’s hip, pulling him close.
“Can’t have your customers getting upset, now can we?” Joe’s bottom lip trembled when David battered him with that monotone that was causing his heart to beat a thousand times a minute. David’s finger came up close and rubbed against the pouting bottom lip of Joe.
“Web...” His voice faltered as David placed a light kiss on his sweaty forehead.
“You have no idea how gorgeous you are when you’re all rumpled like this. Honestly. Get a comb or something.” Webster gave him a small smile and Joe led him to the back corner of the room, pointing at the door.
“I have an apartment to myself. My brother and Dad live at home. I just make sure no one steals any goodies. Bedroom’s first door on the right.
The loft was spacious, starting with a kitchen when you first walked up the steps, which had a bathroom on the left wall of the kitchen. It opened into a living room, and there were steps that led up to a studio type of thing. Webster glanced at the clock. 2:45. The side of his mouth turned up and he pushed the door open to what inevitably had to be the bedroom.
The bedroom was simple enough, with a bed just as you walked in, perpendicular to the door. On the wall closest to the door was a desk with papers scattered about. There was a book case in the back corner next to the window, which had white curtains billowing in the breeze of the slightly open window. There was a nightstand and a lamp on the far end of the bunk. Webster wasn’t really sure as to why Joe wanted him to stay, but he was tired and getting a bus across town would be inconvenient. Plus, it was just a hotel room. He would come back in the morning and get his clothes, then go house hunting whenever he had time.
Joe came up at about 3:15. “Early to bed, quick to rise,” he said to himself. He pushed the half-closed bedroom door open and looked at the man sleeping soundly on his bed, wearing just his torn blue jeans. They looked god-like against his slightly tanned skin. David’s right arm was draped across his stomach. He was sleeping on his back, and his face was turned toward the door. His hair was down over his forehead and Joe couldn’t help but take into effect the muscles on his body and how the little showing of red elastic made his breath hitch.
Joe stripped down to his pants as well and settled down next to him, letting a strand of hair fall down into his face. He got as close to Webster as he dared and he felt him move, sensing a disturbance in the bed balance. Joe held his breath and took a moment to rove his eyes over the smooth shoulder blades and defined hips. David’s hip bone was peeking out and his biceps were graceful masses on the white sheets. Joe lay on his side, staring at him. Finally, the weariness of the day set in and Joe’s eyes fluttered shut.
Joe rolled out of bed before David. David flicked his eyes open and moaned, ducking his head under the pillow. “Why must the sun come up?”
“Because it likes to punish you. Now get up and get to work.” He slapped Web’s ass and Webster yelped.
“Hey!” He jumped out of bed and chased Joe up to the studio where there was a piano close to the balcony and a guitar in the back corner.
“What is this?” He asked, unbelieving.
“Well, when my dad shows up to take the other half of the night shift, I need something to do to preoccupy my time for the next four hours.”
“Are you any good?”
“Am I any good? What kind of question is that?” Joe stretched out his fingers and sat down. The skinny phalanges glossed over the white plastic keys and Joe pressed down a chord. Webster recognized the song immediately. He didn’t sing along, but he just sat on the railing and watched Joe get entirely engrossed in the playing of the Elton John song.
Joe just sat there and stared at the piano, his hands in his lap. “I’m.....” He trailed off, wondering if he should continue. He sucked in his lips and placed his hands on the keys once more. He began the first couple of bars of David’s favorite song and his mouth dropped open as his shoulders leaned into the crescendos and decrescendos. He got to the bridge and David shuddered as the windows shook with the power from which he played. His body prickled with the sensation as the last verse was played with minimum accompaniment until the pre-chorus. Joe literally pounded the keys, but it was for emphasis. It wasn’t obnoxious and a few tears escaped David’s eyes as Joe played the final chords softly and intimately. His dark eyes moved up to Websters and they just stared at each other. Joe stood, looking awkward, and rubbed a stray tear away from David’s face.
“No crying on the job, Webster.” His hand lingered on his cheek and gently pulled him a few inches forward, but released him and headed toward the steps.
“How long have you been doing this?” Webster just stared at him as he took the stairs. He threw a larger shirt at David, which fit him perfectly. Joe pulled one over his head and pulled out a frying pan and some eggs.
Joe bit his tongue and stared at the light fixture in thought. “Since I was little, maybe six or so?”
“And the guitar?”
“Just recently.” Joe pushed the eggs around in the skillet. He dumped the eggs onto two plates and pulled out some milk. He popped some sausages into the microwave and then put them on a plate. “Salt? Pepper?” Joe shoved the spices over the bar and they landed with a clink beside David’s plate. Joe sat up next to him and moved so their shoulders touched. Joe handed him a fork and they began to eat. “You should get your stuff after today.”
“Hm?” David chewed and looked up at Joe, curiosity in his bright blue eyes.
“You’re not staying in a hotel,” said the taller man firmly. His cheeks tinged a bit and his ears turned red. “You’re staying with me.”
“How did you know I was staying in a hotel?”
“Room key in the front of your wallet,” Joe said simply. He ran his tongue over his teeth and stared down at his plate. “Are you done?” Webster nodded and Joe took their plates and rinsed them off, then placed them in the dishwasher. “Let’s go.” Joe tentatively grabbed David’s hand and led him downstairs.
Ron Speirs glanced at the clock: 8:20 AM. He signed and flipped his feet over the side of the bed and braced his hands against the mattress, bringing his bare shoulders up against the air conditioning in his apartment that always seemed too cold. He looked in the mirror adjacent his bed and stood. He meandered over to the dresser and pulled open the bottom right drawer. It ground against the wood on the bottom of the shelf and Speirs winced at the fact that the noise was there at all. He pulled out a pair of black jeans and pulled them over his boxers. He buttoned them and ran his hands over the worn thighs, sighing. He rooted around in another drawer for his Wolverine evolution shirt, slipping it over his body. He then wandered over to his closer and took off a silver studded belt, and then picked up a black leather jacket. He pulled his worn grey sneakers on and grabbed his house keys, cell phone, and his wallet.
Ron came down the stairs and looked at himself from the mirror. There were light purple circles under his eyes, and he was getting a little scruffy, but he guessed he looked alright. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to get it to become less vertical. It worked pretty well. He smiled at himself, showing his almost-white teeth. He scratched behind his ear, smoothed down his hair again, and pulled open the door, stepping into the chilly air.
Just as he got down onto the sidewalk, his phone vibrated. He rooted around in his back pocket until he managed to fish it out, along with some receipts and a five dollar bill. It was a text from his very close friend, Carwood Lipton.
hey, buddy. u free this morning?
Speirs bit his lip before typing a response. heading to Lieb’s 4 breakfast
The reply came almost immediately: ok. ill see u in 15 at Lieb’s
Speirs cracked a small smile. Since he had fifteen minutes to get there and it was a five minute bus ride in the early morning with either crying babies going to day care or people chatting loudly, a walk didn’t sound too bad.
He turned right when he got to the end of the block, bypassing a mother screaming at her kids for no apparent reason. Ron stuffed his hands into his jean pockets and hunched his shoulders as a breeze picked up. If there was one thing he didn’t like about the city, it was that some streets were like wind tunnels. Others, like the one he was on, managed to be quiet and pretty windless. He ran through the park, which was a shortcut across the block to the bakery, and he crossed the street.
He pushed the door open and found the delivery boy, Webster, Ron thought his name was, and Joe, the elder of the two brothers. He gave them a small smile and ordered a coffee. He sat down at the table closest to the door and his back faced the inside of the bakery and the door, so he could look down the street or into the park, but not toward his apartment.
Webster came over with the coffee and placed it down. Ron smiled his thanks and twirled it needlessly with his spoon. He brought it up to his nose and inhaled the strong, bitter aroma. He liked his coffee black and piping hot. He glanced up by a sixth sense and saw a man walk toward the bakery wearing an army green jacket and light blue jeans. He had on a plain grey shirt and his dark blond hair was receding a bit. He spied Ron in the window and smiled a wide smile, revealing bright white teeth.
Ron heard the door open behind him and the bit of a draft that he shrugged against. He heard his friend quietly order a coffee and two cinnamon buns. He brought them over and Ron pulled out his wallet to pay his friend back, but was held back by an outstretched hand that told him to stop. “You paid for the last one,” said Carwood Lipton.
Ron smirked. “Fair enough.” He put his wallet back in his back pocket and smiled at his friend. “How ya doing, Lip?”
“I’ve been pretty good. There are some odd people who come through my dad’s office, but nothing too terrible. How about you?”
“I’m still looking for a job, if that’s what you’re asking. I fixed my landlord’s computer yesterday, I think it was. His hard drive died, and he was freaking out because he had saved all of his pirated movies on there, and I could definitely say that he had a lot on there, or at least a lot that he liked to play loudly from his first floor bedroom. I finally get some peace and quiet around there, now.”
Carwood laughed and took a bite of his cinnamon bun, closing his eyes as the pastry melted in his mouth. “There aren’t any interesting trials coming up, so things around my dad’s are quiet, but like I said, we still have those weirdos.”
“There are all kinds of people in this world, Lip.” Ron took a bite of his pastry as well and sipped his coffee before continuing on a different topic. “So what’s with the new kid here?”
“What do you mean?” Lipton raised an eyebrow and leaned in close so that he could be heard at a whisper.
“Webster. He hasn’t been here before. And Joe’s just starting now, I think, working the front. I always thought it was his dad, and sometimes his brother Bill. But to be honest, I haven’t seen Joe ever. I just knew he existed.”
Lipton shrugged. “I don’t know, Ron. Maybe his dad put him out here to get Webster into the job easier. They’re about the same age, and Joe’s a good kid. We were friends in high school. You know Web’s first name?”
“Maybe David,” Ron pursed his lips in thought.
They both looked up sharply when a red-haired man and another with black hair who was considerably less lanky than his former walked in and sat at the opposite table on the other side of the door.
“Hey, Dick!” Called Joe fondly as they came up to the counter and ordered tea and a doughnut. “Lew! I didn’t know you were with this guy!”
“Yep, and he’s one lucky son of a bitch to have me.” Nixon grinned and took the food. They both paid and began talking.
“Hey, Dave!” Joe called. Webster came out from the back and looked at the two men. The three of them shook hands as Joe introduced Webster to Dick and Nixon and Joe glanced over at Ron, who was watching the scene unfold. Ron glanced at Lipton and then back at the four people standing in the back.
“Hey, isn’t that Ron Speirs?” Joe squinted as if he needed a better look. “Yeah! Hey, Ron, get over here. You need to meet these guys, and holy shit! Carwood Lipton, how’ve you been, buddy? It’s been months!”
Ron and Carwood glanced at each other and stood, heading over to the counter. They shook hands with David, Dick, and Lew.
Lipton glanced at the clock on the wall and swore under his breath. “It’s been nice meeting you. I gotta go to work.”
They all said their good-byes and Ron and Lip stared at each other for a few seconds. Lip patted his arm and walked out, pulling out his phone and dialing. He looked to the left and hailed a taxi, then got in. Ron watched as the taxi pulled away, then returned his attention to the men beside him.
“Nice friend you got there,” said Joe with a wink. “He was my first.”
“What?” Ron, Dick, and Lew’s eyebrows shot up and David’s ears got red.
“He was the first person I kissed.” Joe grinned, looking proud of himself. Ron knew Lip was gay, and Lewis knew that Joe was gay, and so did Web, but Joe’s comment managed to get everyone confused because of lack of knowledge on everyone else’s part. Ron scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
Dick was blushing and Nix punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Dick, are you joining the happy club, too? We can all have a party. I think I know who the couples are.” Joe smiled and pulled on Webster’s arm. “I’m claiming this one.” David looked shocked. Joe gave him a crooked smile and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Joe, what are you-”
“Shh! Don’t tell nobody, but I think you’re pretty. Oh, and Ron? Lip likes you. I can tell. And you two would be so cute together, Nix!” There was an awkward silence that was only ended by Webster gasping for breath. “Honestly, Web, you’re going to be sucking all of the oxygen from this room...well, I guess that wouldn’t be too bad considering we’d then have to share some.”
“Joe!” Came a high-pitched voice that no one except for Joe really recognized. Joe flinched. “Leave them alone and come back here and help us if you aren’t going to be productive.”
“Little brothers,” said Joe under his breath. “Dad always back him up.” He rolled his eyes and dragged David to the kitchen with him.
Ron, Nix, and Dick all sat down together and ate until they had to part ways.
“That was awkward,” said Ron, staring down into the table.
“Yeah,” said Dick quietly. They all started to chuckle. Ron’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket. It was a text from his landlord saying his speakers were plugged in, but had sporadic sound and he wanted Ron to come over right away. His television sound wasn’t working, either, and the microwave wouldn’t stop beeping.
“Sweet Jesus. My landlord is good at getting defective stuff. Oh! Uh...if you ever need anything fixed, here’s my number...” Ron grabbed a pen and a napkin and scribbled down the series of numbers. “I’ll see you later.” Ron waved and exited the store, heading home.
Hours later, his phone buzzed.
Can i come over? It was Lip.
sure. just finished up
k. b there in 5.
Ron ran upstairs and rinsed himself off before the doorbell rang. He ran a towel through his hair and pulled the door open, smiling at his long-time friend.
“Hey, Li-” Ron felt the shock as his back was pressed against the wall. Carwood’s lips were pressed firmly on his and his hands were traveling all over his naked chest. Ron’s hands cautiously went up to Lip’s hair and began gently tugging on it. Their breathing quickened and Lip broke the kiss and stared at Ron, whose hands were on his thighs, supporting him while his chest expanded and contracted with the effort of breathing. Ron’s eyes met Carwood’s and he stood to his full height, which was a few inches taller than the other man. Ron took a few steps toward him and tilted his head, his expression unreadable. Lipton sat down on the steps and leaned back as Ron got closer and closer, until he closed the gap between them and slowly pressed his lips onto the chapped ones of his new lover.
Lipton slowly ran his hands up over Ron’s back, his fingertips dancing on his spine. Ron moved his right hand to the back of Carwood’s neck and used his left hand to support him on the step. Ron gently bit his bottom lip and grazed his tongue along his teeth, and Lipton opened his mouth. Their tongues battled for control as they explored the new territory. Carwood pressed up against Speirs and pushed him back toward the door. Ron slowly pulled away and rested his forehead against Lip’s.
“Upstairs. Now.” Ron was breathless as he pulled Carwood up the steps. He threw his door open and pulled him over to the bed where he threw him down and straddled his hips, supporting himself with his hands on the mattress as he leaned down and pressed his fevered lips to Carwood’s once again. Ron was practically sitting on top of him as Lip slammed his hips against Ron, whose fingers were fluttering against the skin on his abdomen as he attempted to pull his shirt off. Slowly, it inched up and they broke this kiss for only a second as it was pulled over his head and tossed to the pile of clothes already accumulating on the floor from Ron’s lack of perseverance for laundry. Carwood’s back arched up so that their chests were pressed together. His hands tangled in Ron’s wet hair and he pulled them even tighter together. Lip locked his ankle around Ron’s and moved his leg so that he was flipped, his back bouncing against the softness underneath them.
Carwood fiddled with Ron’s pants, liberating them from his legs and tossing them down with the pile of wreckage already accumulating. Ron tucked his fingertips under Lip’s jeans and ran his hands up over his spine, causing the man on top of him to shiver. Ron tilted his head back and closed his eyes and Lip took his own pants off and then removed both of their boxers.
Ron drew patterns on their skin, causing the blood in both of them to drain to lower parts of their bodies. Lipton met Ron’s eyes and held them for a few moments before inserting his erection. Ron flinched, having never experienced the sensation as rhythmic thrust shook his body. He felt something in the base of his spine and fill him to his abdomen. Their breath came shorter and more heated as Lipton bent down for a heated kiss before letting go into Ron, who moaned from the back of his throat as he, too, let go moments after.
Lip pulled out and flipped down over to Ron’s right. They stared at each other, and Ron grabbed for his lover’s hand.
“I’m sorry. I just...I’ve been feeling this way for a while and I just couldn’t suppress it any longer,” said Lip between gasps.
Ron gave him an understanding look, staring into the eyes of his lover. “I never realized what you do to me. You can’t even understand.” He pulled him in for a quick kiss before shoving him toward the shower. Carwood turned, staring at Ron, who shooed him inside, then went back to sit on the bed.
Joe stared at Web, who was fumbling with an icing bag. David looked up at him from the cake he was decorating and gave Joe a hard look. “I’m doing the best I can,” he mumbled angrily. “And it would help if you would just back off a little bit.”
“You want me to back off?”
“Yes.” David redirected his gaze back to a sorry-looking leaf. He scraped the icing off with his finger and flicked it at Joe. It landed on his cheek.
“Water’s broken. You have to clean it off, now.”
Webster rolled his eyes and walked over, placing his left index finger on Joe’s right cheek and smearing the icing off. Just as he was about to wipe it on his apron, Joe snatched his wrist and his tongue wrapped around David’s finger, cleaning off the sugary goo.
“Now I have to wash my hands,” he whined.
“That you do,” said Joe with a wink. As David walked over to the sink and turned on the faucet, he felt arms wrap around him and pull him around. Joe placed a hand on his chest and pressed him against the cool metal. “Forget it,” he said, his lips making contact with Webster’s shoulder. Bill and his dad had left, or were manning the outside. It was evening: no one was going to be around.
“J-Joe?” Webster stuttered, his chest rising and falling and his hands grabbing needily at the son of his employer. “Are you sure about this?”
“What kind of question is that?” He said, nipping at the skin on his neck and leaving a light purple mark. “Of course I’m sure.” His mouth moved up to his jaw and Web flinched when his teeth grazed against his jugular. “You’re just too pretty.” He could feel his pulse against Joe’s skin and Joe placed an hand on his shoulder and wrapped David’s arm around him as he moved up and slowly, gently pressed his lips to Web’s.
Joe pulled away after a few moments and ran his hand down Webster’s chest. “Just so pretty.” Joe reached around him and flipped on the sink and spun David around, pressing his cheek against his back, hugging him. “Wash you hands, Web, and I’ll take over while you go get your stuff.”
David nodded and turned off the water. He planted a quick kiss on Joe’s cheek and headed out for a cab to bring him to his hotel across town.
The hotel wasn’t exactly the best place in the world. There was a chain link fence surrounding it and the person working the lobby eyed him suspiciously as he entered the building. Another unfortunate aspect of this place was that the walls were paper thin, and he could hear everything that was going on in the rooms beside him.
He pulled out his room key and inserted it into the reader. The light turned green and he turned the handle, swinging the door open. David walked over to the dresser and cleaned out all his clothes and then got his bathroom stuff. He collected a few of his books laying around then grabbed his iPod, charger, and his messenger bag. He stuffed as much as he could in and then filled his pockets. He carried a book and headed out.
The elevator creaked and groaned until it got to the first floor. It dinged and creaked upon. He placed the key on the front desk with a smile, thanked the girl who was staring at him eerily, and shouldered his bag. Web turned and walked out onto the sidewalk.
The heat was beating up from the pavement and David brushed some sweat from his eyes. When he dropped his arm back to his side, he felt himself being shoved. He staggered and turned, facing a man who was much bigger than he.
“What’s your deal?” Web asked, anger spiking in his eyes.
“Gimme all your stuff,” the man had a low, commanding voice.
“What? No. Look, I’m not looking for any trouble. I’m just moving in with a friend. I’m just going to get a cab and get out of your way.”
“What, you fucking queer? More reason to beat you up.” The man growled and got very close to David’ face, his fist clenched.
“I’m not giving you anything, sir. I suggest you back off.”
Babe Heffron was from a nicer part of town, but as he and his friend Eugene Roe walked down the street where Roe lived, they saw a big man sizing up a younger one, about their age.
“Hey, Gene? Look over there.” Babe pointed and Gene followed his finger. The bigger man was beating the younger one and he was flinching away, but trying to put up a fight. Gene watched, torn as whether or not to go and save him or just wait it out. He was studying to be a nurse and he could help if something got out of hand, but he didn’t want anything to get out of hand. He had come in from Louisiana and had made quick friends with Babe, who was studying to be a bio-engineer.
“We should go help them,” said Roe in a panicked Cajun drawl. “He could get hur-” They both gasped and glanced at each other. A gun was pointed in the boy’s face and the man had his finger on the trigger. They couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it wasn’t pleasant. The boy was flinching, and Roe caught the word “fag,” and sprang into action.
“I’m going to fucking shoot you, faggot,” he screamed and the younger boy whimpered.
“Hey!” Yelled Babe, picking up a rock that was on the edge of the park behind them. “Let go of him!” Babe hurled the rock at the man and hit it just as it went off.
Webster screamed as the bullet tore through his flesh. He fell to the ground when the man let him go and ran away. Two men about his age ran across the street. One gingerly touched the wound and told his friend to call 911.
“Hey, buddy,” said the one with pale, pale skin and black, almost blue hair. His hands twisted David’s arm, to which he winced, but there was a definite hole in his arm. “You’re going to be alright. As long as you don’t move it too much, you won’t sever your artery. Hey, hey. Come on, look at me.” His voice was soft and kind and comforting, and Webster found himself staring into his eyes. The Cajun boy flashed him a small smile and smoothed out David’s hair. “Just hang in there. What’s you’re name?”
“W-Webster,” he stuttered. “David Webster. I-I was just going back to my friends, to work.”
“I know, I know. Things don’t exactly go as planned, do they?”
“Ambulance is on it’s way, Gene.” The other man’s hair was a rust color and he kneeled down beside the both of them and took Web’s hand in his own. “David, you said your name was? I’m Babe, and this is Gene.”
Web gave them a small smile and glanced down at his arm. His stomach clenched, things seemed to get really bright.
“David, come on, stay with me. Come on. The ambulance is almost here. Can you hear it? It’s here. Come on. Stay with us.” An unfamiliar voice took over, but it wasn’t as comforting, and David felt no need to fight the darkness that enveloped him.
Rating: strong R
Pairing: Liebgott/Webster, Winnix, Speirs/Lipton, Babe/Roe
Summary: A little bakery in a big town can make a massive impact on people's lives.
Disclaimer: Don't own any of these people. I'm just having fun with them . No disrespect intended. I may have also broken the internet.
Joe Liebgott looked up form behind the counter of the bakery and moaned. The kid was around his age and greener than the Statue of Liberty. He knew he was coming, but none the less, he thought that at least he would look the part at least a bit, instead of looking like he should be behind a desk at a museum.
“You Webster?”
“David K,” nodded the man.
“What’s the K for?”
“Uhh...Kenyon.”
“Jeez.” Liebgott shook his head and just stared at the boy. “You had to think about that one? I heard you’re lookin for a job out of college. Harvard, yeah?
“Yeah. And you? What’s with you?” Webster cocked an eyebrow. Liebgott smirked.
“Liebgott. Joseph T.”
“What’s the T for?” Webster’s face was the picture of innocence. He was purely curious. His
light blue eyes scanned Liebgott’s dark ones.
“Who’s askin?” The skinny face twisted up into a smirk.
“Just curious,” he replied defensively.
“Ah. So you’re not a lawyer or anything.”
“No.”
“Well?”
“English literature.” Webster sounded proud of himself and Liebgott smirked again. “Are you going to tell me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“No.” Liebgott crossed his arms over his chest, being the picture of stubborn.
“That wasn’t even a real answer to the question.”
“Now the college boy’s thinking!” Lieb raised his hand to the ceiling. “Look, kid. You see that sign out there?” He pointed out the door, where you could not in fact see a sign, but understood his point. Webster turned, looking for it, and realized the point. “That’s why. Now, you’re not going to be making anything until I know you can handle yourself, so I need you to run this over to a friend of mine, Lew Nixon. His ma’s having a party and needs this cake. Here’s the address. You know your way around here, right?”
Webster nodded.
“Good. Now get moving, delivery boy!” Liebgott shooed him out of the building and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. “Webster,” he said under his breath. “Dad? Dad!” Joe went back into the kitchen to find his father and brother. “Webster showed up.”
“Hm?” His father tilted his head and his brother wasn’t even paying attention.
“Webster. You know, the college kid lookin for a job?”
“Oh, yes. How is he?”
“Alright. A little raw for my tastes, though.”
“Then you’re just going to have to heat him up.”
Joe smirked. “Sounds good.” He turned on his heel and returned to the counter just as a taller man with wavy hair and mud-brown eyes walked in and looked to the left, eyeing up some doughnuts.
“Welcome to Liebgott and Son’s. How may I help you?” Joe’s face lit up a bit as the man looked around slowly and his eyes finally settled on the man in front of him. He smiled and it sent minuscule shivers down Lieb’s spine.
“Could I get a Boston Creme?” The man tilted his head and smiled a bit again, but it was wiped from his face quickly as Joe moved to get the doughnut. They didn’t break eye contact until Joe reached down to get the pastry from off the tray. He wrapped it up and placed it on the counter, slowly pushing it to where the man could reach it.
“How much?” His voice was quiet and firm. He ran his tongue over his lips and stared at the man who was probably a few years younger than him.
“Twenty-five cents, sir.”
The man pulled out a quarter and gently placed it on the counter. “Thank you.” His eyes met Joe’s and their fingers touched as Joe drew back the quarter and placed it in the register drawer. “What’s your name, kid?” The man’s smile was a little less creepy this time.
“Joe.” The blank stare on his face made the smile of the man grow a little more.
“Tell your dad I need some bread at my house, 321 Maple Way. Italian, please, and three loaves of it. I’m going out of town today, so I can’t pick it up. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Name, sir?” Asked Joe, looking up from his order form.
“Ron Speirs.”
Joe nodded and wrote the name down, looking at it for a second. “Hey, Dad?” Joe yelled, walking back to the back again. “A Ron Speirs wants three loaves of Italian by tonight.”
“Alright. Thanks. I’ll get right on it.”
Joe came back out to find Webster standing there, a little sweaty from the bike ride.
“You found the place alright?”
“Yeah, I found it. That dog...” Webster was breathless. Joe laughed a high pitched, sarcastic laugh that caused Webster’s face to redden a little bit.
“It’s a damn good dog.”
“Yeah, at scaring the shit out of you.” Liebgott snorted.
“Got that right. Hey, delivery boy, you’re not that bad.” A small smirk played on Joe’s
lips. “Not as big of a prick as I thought.”
“I could say the same thing about you,” Webster quipped. “Anything else you need me to do?”
“Nah. Just hang around for a bit. I’ll be sending you off to some creep’s house soon if my dad hurries up.”
“What about your brother?”
“Workin’ on a cake.”
“Really? For who?”
“Not you, college boy.” Joe turned his back and began arranging some things on the back counter.
“Yeah, I gathered.” Webster sighed and looked about at the jars of sugar up on the shelved behind the pastries. They were all in different colored porcelain containers and stood out in a nice contrast against the smooth green wall paper. The display cases were wrapped around in a big U and had many different delicacies. Webster ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head. He noticed Joe hand turned back and was leaning on the counter, arms crossed, staring at him.
The bell of the door rang and in came a guy with short, moppy brown hair and a massive grin.
“George Luz! How ya doing, buddy? What can I get for you today?” Lieb smiled and stood, glancing at Webster.
“Yeah, who’s this?” Asked Luz, gesturing to the boy with baby blue eyes and an extremely confused look.
“Dave Webster, meet my best pal, George Luz.”
“Pleasure,” said Webster, stretching out his hand.
“Like wise.”
George continued talking with Lieb and Webster crossed his arms, listening as the learned about the two and their relationship toward one another. Lieb got them all a coffee and all of a sudden, Luz turned and gave Webster a once over.
“So what’s his deal?”
“Web?” LIebgott looked over to him allowing him to explain.
“I needed a job out of college, and I talked to Mr. Liebgott and he let me try it out.”
“Another prick. Honestly. You could do better, Lieb.”
Webster shook his head. This wasn’t going to be easy.
“Hey, Web,” said Joe as his father and brother walked out the door, leaving Joe by himself.
“How was the creep?”
Webster turned his head around to face the man. “Speirs? Intimidating. I thought he was going to take me inside, take all my clothes off, and just experiment me until the cows came home.”
“Ain’t no cows in town,” Lieb grinned. “So tell me about Speirs.”
“Odd. That’s all I can really say about him.” Webster stared into the display case, but his eyes didn’t really focus on anything. “Are you here by yourself?”
“Yeah. This place is open 24/7, so someone has to man the non-busy hours.” Lieb smirked. “So how about college? What’s that like?” Lieb went into his favorite pose, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed, ankles overlapping each other.
“Fine. Boring, but I guess I would say I’m happiest when I read.” Webster’s face lit up a little bit, thinking of the prospect of digging his nose into a book, smelling the paper, and checking out the contrast between the black words and white pages. He looked around sharply for any reading material. “Do you like books?”
“Eh. Sometimes. Depends on who’s writing. Not one for the classics, more of the sci-fi, or some that are contraband in most countries.”
“I guess I can’t argue with that.” Webster smiled shyly. Lieb tilted his head and Webster only now realized how clammy and pale his skin looked in the greenish industrial light.
“Nah. What, you like Dickens and shit like that, right?”
“Not shit.”
“Yeah, ok. Bet you slash him with his characters.” Lieb smirked again.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Are you?” Lieb stood and met Webster in the center of the marble white tiled floor, their
faces inches apart. Webster respected Dickens, but didn’t particularly love him. Lieb’s lips were puckered and his eyes were wide in challenge. Despite the fact that Lieb was shorter, he made up for it in attitude.
“I have nothing to kid.”
“Yeah, alright. You just want him in your bed with you.” Joe shoved him toward the door, but still chased him to get inches from his face again. “Gay,” he breathed.
“What?”
“You’re gay,” he said simply, backing off to behind the counter.
“What makes you say that?” Webster cocked an eyebrow. He was right, but that didn’t mean he was going to let on, yet. He poked something on the ground with his shoe. “Joe, what are you talking about?”
“It’s just obvious. I mean, come on. The way you blushed when George came in? Bet you think he’s cute.” Liebgott’s sneer was in his voice and it pierced Webster. “Bet you wanted Speirs to take your clothes off. I have to admit he wasn’t that bad looking for a guy.” He had
returned to his original position.
“You’re an ass.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Nothin you can do about it, though, Webby. Called Liebgott and Sons.
You want to leave, leave. I won’t stop you.”
Webster turned around and looked outside, analyzing the weather. Rain was starting to fall and a car drove by, it’s headlight illuminating the drops. It make the scene inside seem more eerie than necessary. “I’m not going anywhere,” Webster said without turning, his jaw tightening.
“So you are...you know...gay.” It was a statement.
“You say so.”
“Now you’re quoting the fucking Bible? Give me a break, Dave.” He could head Joe snort and roll his eyes.
“It’s the Bible, Lieb. People do that.” An edge was catching in his voice and lightning flashed and thunder followed, causing Webster to stiffen.
“You scared of that?”
“Thunder?”
“If you want that to be the question.” Liebgott was now behind him and Webster hadn’t noticed his chest pressed to his back, whispering in his ear and breathing down his neck.
“Jesus Christ, Joe!” Webster backed up into the door. Joe pursued him, getting close to his face again.
“Lemme in on a little secret that everyone in this town knows,” he said, smirking, and nearly pressing his lips on the glass to speak into Webster’s ear. “You’re not the only queer in this room.” Their cheeks brushed as Liebgott pulled away and headed to the back of the room. The stubble on Websters cheek had tickled him and he rubbed the place where it brushed his smooth skin. “But I’ll be damned if you try and hit on any one of my friends, or me for that matter. You ain’t my type.”
“You like the cynical assholes?”
“No, just not preppy bitches who can’t get girls.”
“Do you want to take this somewhere else?”
“Yeah, but not where you want to take it.” LIbgott had raised himself onto the counter, his
legs swinging peacefully.
“Jesus Christ. I can’t stand this. Could you just shut up for a second?”
A pause. “Alright. There you go.”
“Fuck, you know what I mean. Stop being so childish.”
“I wouldn’t be childish if you fucking elaborated sometimes.” Webster crossed his arms and leaned against the display case. “Get the fuck out of my store.” Both of their gazes hardened at the same time. “No, fuck that. Stay here. I want to relish in your humiliation. How far can you go before you walk out?”
“I’m not listening to you.”
“For a college boy, you sure as hell are stupid. You thought you were the mature one.” Liebgott turned around and pressed a button. Some Led Zeppelin pounded through the stereo.
“Come on, you don’t even want to see what I have?”
“I’ve seen it all, delivery boy,” said Liebgott, lighting up a cigarette. He offered one to Webster, who held up his hand.
“No, thanks. I don’t smoke.”
“Right.” He stuffed the pack back into his pocket and patted it affectionately.
“Well, I guess I know where your relationship lies. Luz must be one hell of a fuck.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Liebgott’s eyes snapped up to him.
“Or are you screwing the smokes?”
“Never.” Joe smirked at David, and Webster felt his cheeks redden. “I don’t do camels. Now, you, on the other hand....what do you like to screw? Men, obviously, but what kind? Probably your average Harvard prick.”
“Yeah, they’re pretty good.” Webster rolled his eyes. He hadn’t so much as kissed a man let alone spent a night with one. Unfortunately, Liebgott called his bluff.
“Holy shit, you’ve never been kissed. Not even in, like, middle school with all that angst crap going around? Could have sworn it was an epidemic.” He reached a long-fingered hand over and turned the radio down. Lieb tilted his head, taking the man in front of him in. He was taking the bait. “I’m not going to be your first, kid.” He wanted to. He was experienced. Webster deserved someone who knew what he was doing. He watched as Webster sighed, slightly disappointed. It was all a matter of placement, now.
“Come on. It must be a challenge for you. Brand new fuck-mate.”
“Yeah, like I need a new one.” Liebgott smirked. He never had one. Not even a girl. So they were both virgins. This made it all the more exciting. “I’m busy with the one I have.” Joe shot David a promiscuous look. “Maybe more, but it doesn’t matter for you.”
“You know that’s dangerous, right?”
“Better than getting twenty girls pregnant. Then you get stuck with their kid. Obviously your fault.”
“Yeah, obviously.” Webster stared at the wall. When he looked back, Joe was walking toward him, licking his bottom lip.
“Lemme show you something,” Lieb said, taking his hand and leading him back to the back room where he closed the door.
Joe pushed him back against the wall and got his face close to Webster again. “Look at you. You’re a snivelling mess every time I get close to you. Every time I...touch you.” Joe ran his hand over David’s face, down his neck, and down to his broad chest, rubbing circles on select parts of his defined pecs. Webster lip was trembling. “You are so fucking tight.” Joe moaned the last word, backing away and Webster gasped. The tease was fun. Joe smirked and found Webster’s mouth hanging wide open.
“Wonder what you could fit in there, Web.” The smirk grew and David put his hand on the stainless steel table, supporting himself. Liebgott filled a piping bag and twisted it, causing icing to land on his left index finger. “Web?” His voice was high as he studied the sugary glob on his finger.
“What?” He groaned.
“You wanna clean this off?” He wiggled his finger and stretched out his arm. He was just close enough that Webster only had to move a little bit to wrap his lips around his finger and clean it off. Webster straightened.
“No, thanks. There’s a sink over there.” Webster indicated the place right beside where he had been pushed against the wall.
Lieb’s bottom lip puckered out. “You’re no fun,” he pouted, tilting his head, putting on irresistible puppy eyes, and frowning. Joe walked over and made a show of washing his hands. His eyes had chilled a little as he gently pulled David over to behind a cake. He placed the icing bag in his hand and stood behind him, guiding his hand to make intricate designs on it.
David closed his eyes, engrossing himself in the moment. He didn’t even know the guy, but this felt good. There were little consequences with people who you barely knew. And if the ‘job’ didn’t work out, it didn’t work out.
“You’re still too tight,” Lieb breathed in his ear. “Loosen up.” Webster shot his eyes open and turned, looking at the man that was staring intently at him. Web tilted his head to one side, taking him in. Two could play at this game. He leaned his head open, and Liebgott closed his eyes, attempting to meet him. At the last second, Webster moved out of the way, but Lieb anticipated and kissed the corner of Webster’s wet mouth.
They stared at each other and Liebgott scratched his head.
“This isn’t going to go over too well with your fuck mate, is it?”
“It wouldn’t if he existed,” he whispered.
“I can’t believe you lied to me,” said Webster, looking affronted.
“Eh. Who gives a shit?” Liebgott grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him toward him when the bell of the front door announced that a customer had entered and was looking for service. “Fuck this job,” said Joe Liebgott, leading the way from the back room.
Webster stared after him, open-mouthed. He pushed the swinging door open and stared at the man standing in front of the counter. He was tall with bright red hair and small, red lips. His eyes were an icy blue and every gaze he have sent warm, comforting feelings down to the pit of Webster’s stomach. He wore dark, faded blue jeans and a black Ramones shirt with a plain white long-sleeved shirt underneath. “Hello,” he said, meeting Web’s eyes.
“Hello,” Webster replied. He returned his gaze back to Liebgott, who promptly turned around, got what the man wanted, and handed it to him. The man paid, and smiled a bit uneasily at the two of them.
“Dick Winters,” he said, stretching out a hand to Joe, then to Webster. “I’m sorry I had to come in so late. There was no time in the day.” He turned around and looked outside, sighing
at the rain.
“You want some coffee, Dick?” Asked Joe, glancing over at Web for a second before pouring some into his own cup.
“Sure, if it’s not too much trouble. I’m taking summer courses at the community college and I might as well study.” He glance over at the table that was right in front of the window. Dick put his book bag down and sat there, taking his coffee happily from Liebgott. “Thanks.”
“Any time, sir.” Liebgott mocked a salute. Winters chuckled and shook his head. “Hey, Web!” Joe turned back to the delivery boy and tapped his shoulder, taking him back to the back room again.
“Now...what the fuck was that about? I ain’t gonna be your first.”
“Yeah, nor am I.” Webster crossed his arms.
“You know what?”
“What?”
“Go upstairs. I’ve got this for tonight?”
“What? You gonna go flirt with Dick out there?”
“I can’t help that his name’s an innuendo for my sexual preference.” Joe practically yelled it if Webster handn’t placed his hand on Joe’s hip, pulling him close.
“Can’t have your customers getting upset, now can we?” Joe’s bottom lip trembled when David battered him with that monotone that was causing his heart to beat a thousand times a minute. David’s finger came up close and rubbed against the pouting bottom lip of Joe.
“Web...” His voice faltered as David placed a light kiss on his sweaty forehead.
“You have no idea how gorgeous you are when you’re all rumpled like this. Honestly. Get a comb or something.” Webster gave him a small smile and Joe led him to the back corner of the room, pointing at the door.
“I have an apartment to myself. My brother and Dad live at home. I just make sure no one steals any goodies. Bedroom’s first door on the right.
The loft was spacious, starting with a kitchen when you first walked up the steps, which had a bathroom on the left wall of the kitchen. It opened into a living room, and there were steps that led up to a studio type of thing. Webster glanced at the clock. 2:45. The side of his mouth turned up and he pushed the door open to what inevitably had to be the bedroom.
The bedroom was simple enough, with a bed just as you walked in, perpendicular to the door. On the wall closest to the door was a desk with papers scattered about. There was a book case in the back corner next to the window, which had white curtains billowing in the breeze of the slightly open window. There was a nightstand and a lamp on the far end of the bunk. Webster wasn’t really sure as to why Joe wanted him to stay, but he was tired and getting a bus across town would be inconvenient. Plus, it was just a hotel room. He would come back in the morning and get his clothes, then go house hunting whenever he had time.
Joe came up at about 3:15. “Early to bed, quick to rise,” he said to himself. He pushed the half-closed bedroom door open and looked at the man sleeping soundly on his bed, wearing just his torn blue jeans. They looked god-like against his slightly tanned skin. David’s right arm was draped across his stomach. He was sleeping on his back, and his face was turned toward the door. His hair was down over his forehead and Joe couldn’t help but take into effect the muscles on his body and how the little showing of red elastic made his breath hitch.
Joe stripped down to his pants as well and settled down next to him, letting a strand of hair fall down into his face. He got as close to Webster as he dared and he felt him move, sensing a disturbance in the bed balance. Joe held his breath and took a moment to rove his eyes over the smooth shoulder blades and defined hips. David’s hip bone was peeking out and his biceps were graceful masses on the white sheets. Joe lay on his side, staring at him. Finally, the weariness of the day set in and Joe’s eyes fluttered shut.
Joe rolled out of bed before David. David flicked his eyes open and moaned, ducking his head under the pillow. “Why must the sun come up?”
“Because it likes to punish you. Now get up and get to work.” He slapped Web’s ass and Webster yelped.
“Hey!” He jumped out of bed and chased Joe up to the studio where there was a piano close to the balcony and a guitar in the back corner.
“What is this?” He asked, unbelieving.
“Well, when my dad shows up to take the other half of the night shift, I need something to do to preoccupy my time for the next four hours.”
“Are you any good?”
“Am I any good? What kind of question is that?” Joe stretched out his fingers and sat down. The skinny phalanges glossed over the white plastic keys and Joe pressed down a chord. Webster recognized the song immediately. He didn’t sing along, but he just sat on the railing and watched Joe get entirely engrossed in the playing of the Elton John song.
Joe just sat there and stared at the piano, his hands in his lap. “I’m.....” He trailed off, wondering if he should continue. He sucked in his lips and placed his hands on the keys once more. He began the first couple of bars of David’s favorite song and his mouth dropped open as his shoulders leaned into the crescendos and decrescendos. He got to the bridge and David shuddered as the windows shook with the power from which he played. His body prickled with the sensation as the last verse was played with minimum accompaniment until the pre-chorus. Joe literally pounded the keys, but it was for emphasis. It wasn’t obnoxious and a few tears escaped David’s eyes as Joe played the final chords softly and intimately. His dark eyes moved up to Websters and they just stared at each other. Joe stood, looking awkward, and rubbed a stray tear away from David’s face.
“No crying on the job, Webster.” His hand lingered on his cheek and gently pulled him a few inches forward, but released him and headed toward the steps.
“How long have you been doing this?” Webster just stared at him as he took the stairs. He threw a larger shirt at David, which fit him perfectly. Joe pulled one over his head and pulled out a frying pan and some eggs.
Joe bit his tongue and stared at the light fixture in thought. “Since I was little, maybe six or so?”
“And the guitar?”
“Just recently.” Joe pushed the eggs around in the skillet. He dumped the eggs onto two plates and pulled out some milk. He popped some sausages into the microwave and then put them on a plate. “Salt? Pepper?” Joe shoved the spices over the bar and they landed with a clink beside David’s plate. Joe sat up next to him and moved so their shoulders touched. Joe handed him a fork and they began to eat. “You should get your stuff after today.”
“Hm?” David chewed and looked up at Joe, curiosity in his bright blue eyes.
“You’re not staying in a hotel,” said the taller man firmly. His cheeks tinged a bit and his ears turned red. “You’re staying with me.”
“How did you know I was staying in a hotel?”
“Room key in the front of your wallet,” Joe said simply. He ran his tongue over his teeth and stared down at his plate. “Are you done?” Webster nodded and Joe took their plates and rinsed them off, then placed them in the dishwasher. “Let’s go.” Joe tentatively grabbed David’s hand and led him downstairs.
Ron Speirs glanced at the clock: 8:20 AM. He signed and flipped his feet over the side of the bed and braced his hands against the mattress, bringing his bare shoulders up against the air conditioning in his apartment that always seemed too cold. He looked in the mirror adjacent his bed and stood. He meandered over to the dresser and pulled open the bottom right drawer. It ground against the wood on the bottom of the shelf and Speirs winced at the fact that the noise was there at all. He pulled out a pair of black jeans and pulled them over his boxers. He buttoned them and ran his hands over the worn thighs, sighing. He rooted around in another drawer for his Wolverine evolution shirt, slipping it over his body. He then wandered over to his closer and took off a silver studded belt, and then picked up a black leather jacket. He pulled his worn grey sneakers on and grabbed his house keys, cell phone, and his wallet.
Ron came down the stairs and looked at himself from the mirror. There were light purple circles under his eyes, and he was getting a little scruffy, but he guessed he looked alright. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to get it to become less vertical. It worked pretty well. He smiled at himself, showing his almost-white teeth. He scratched behind his ear, smoothed down his hair again, and pulled open the door, stepping into the chilly air.
Just as he got down onto the sidewalk, his phone vibrated. He rooted around in his back pocket until he managed to fish it out, along with some receipts and a five dollar bill. It was a text from his very close friend, Carwood Lipton.
hey, buddy. u free this morning?
Speirs bit his lip before typing a response. heading to Lieb’s 4 breakfast
The reply came almost immediately: ok. ill see u in 15 at Lieb’s
Speirs cracked a small smile. Since he had fifteen minutes to get there and it was a five minute bus ride in the early morning with either crying babies going to day care or people chatting loudly, a walk didn’t sound too bad.
He turned right when he got to the end of the block, bypassing a mother screaming at her kids for no apparent reason. Ron stuffed his hands into his jean pockets and hunched his shoulders as a breeze picked up. If there was one thing he didn’t like about the city, it was that some streets were like wind tunnels. Others, like the one he was on, managed to be quiet and pretty windless. He ran through the park, which was a shortcut across the block to the bakery, and he crossed the street.
He pushed the door open and found the delivery boy, Webster, Ron thought his name was, and Joe, the elder of the two brothers. He gave them a small smile and ordered a coffee. He sat down at the table closest to the door and his back faced the inside of the bakery and the door, so he could look down the street or into the park, but not toward his apartment.
Webster came over with the coffee and placed it down. Ron smiled his thanks and twirled it needlessly with his spoon. He brought it up to his nose and inhaled the strong, bitter aroma. He liked his coffee black and piping hot. He glanced up by a sixth sense and saw a man walk toward the bakery wearing an army green jacket and light blue jeans. He had on a plain grey shirt and his dark blond hair was receding a bit. He spied Ron in the window and smiled a wide smile, revealing bright white teeth.
Ron heard the door open behind him and the bit of a draft that he shrugged against. He heard his friend quietly order a coffee and two cinnamon buns. He brought them over and Ron pulled out his wallet to pay his friend back, but was held back by an outstretched hand that told him to stop. “You paid for the last one,” said Carwood Lipton.
Ron smirked. “Fair enough.” He put his wallet back in his back pocket and smiled at his friend. “How ya doing, Lip?”
“I’ve been pretty good. There are some odd people who come through my dad’s office, but nothing too terrible. How about you?”
“I’m still looking for a job, if that’s what you’re asking. I fixed my landlord’s computer yesterday, I think it was. His hard drive died, and he was freaking out because he had saved all of his pirated movies on there, and I could definitely say that he had a lot on there, or at least a lot that he liked to play loudly from his first floor bedroom. I finally get some peace and quiet around there, now.”
Carwood laughed and took a bite of his cinnamon bun, closing his eyes as the pastry melted in his mouth. “There aren’t any interesting trials coming up, so things around my dad’s are quiet, but like I said, we still have those weirdos.”
“There are all kinds of people in this world, Lip.” Ron took a bite of his pastry as well and sipped his coffee before continuing on a different topic. “So what’s with the new kid here?”
“What do you mean?” Lipton raised an eyebrow and leaned in close so that he could be heard at a whisper.
“Webster. He hasn’t been here before. And Joe’s just starting now, I think, working the front. I always thought it was his dad, and sometimes his brother Bill. But to be honest, I haven’t seen Joe ever. I just knew he existed.”
Lipton shrugged. “I don’t know, Ron. Maybe his dad put him out here to get Webster into the job easier. They’re about the same age, and Joe’s a good kid. We were friends in high school. You know Web’s first name?”
“Maybe David,” Ron pursed his lips in thought.
They both looked up sharply when a red-haired man and another with black hair who was considerably less lanky than his former walked in and sat at the opposite table on the other side of the door.
“Hey, Dick!” Called Joe fondly as they came up to the counter and ordered tea and a doughnut. “Lew! I didn’t know you were with this guy!”
“Yep, and he’s one lucky son of a bitch to have me.” Nixon grinned and took the food. They both paid and began talking.
“Hey, Dave!” Joe called. Webster came out from the back and looked at the two men. The three of them shook hands as Joe introduced Webster to Dick and Nixon and Joe glanced over at Ron, who was watching the scene unfold. Ron glanced at Lipton and then back at the four people standing in the back.
“Hey, isn’t that Ron Speirs?” Joe squinted as if he needed a better look. “Yeah! Hey, Ron, get over here. You need to meet these guys, and holy shit! Carwood Lipton, how’ve you been, buddy? It’s been months!”
Ron and Carwood glanced at each other and stood, heading over to the counter. They shook hands with David, Dick, and Lew.
Lipton glanced at the clock on the wall and swore under his breath. “It’s been nice meeting you. I gotta go to work.”
They all said their good-byes and Ron and Lip stared at each other for a few seconds. Lip patted his arm and walked out, pulling out his phone and dialing. He looked to the left and hailed a taxi, then got in. Ron watched as the taxi pulled away, then returned his attention to the men beside him.
“Nice friend you got there,” said Joe with a wink. “He was my first.”
“What?” Ron, Dick, and Lew’s eyebrows shot up and David’s ears got red.
“He was the first person I kissed.” Joe grinned, looking proud of himself. Ron knew Lip was gay, and Lewis knew that Joe was gay, and so did Web, but Joe’s comment managed to get everyone confused because of lack of knowledge on everyone else’s part. Ron scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
Dick was blushing and Nix punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Dick, are you joining the happy club, too? We can all have a party. I think I know who the couples are.” Joe smiled and pulled on Webster’s arm. “I’m claiming this one.” David looked shocked. Joe gave him a crooked smile and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Joe, what are you-”
“Shh! Don’t tell nobody, but I think you’re pretty. Oh, and Ron? Lip likes you. I can tell. And you two would be so cute together, Nix!” There was an awkward silence that was only ended by Webster gasping for breath. “Honestly, Web, you’re going to be sucking all of the oxygen from this room...well, I guess that wouldn’t be too bad considering we’d then have to share some.”
“Joe!” Came a high-pitched voice that no one except for Joe really recognized. Joe flinched. “Leave them alone and come back here and help us if you aren’t going to be productive.”
“Little brothers,” said Joe under his breath. “Dad always back him up.” He rolled his eyes and dragged David to the kitchen with him.
Ron, Nix, and Dick all sat down together and ate until they had to part ways.
“That was awkward,” said Ron, staring down into the table.
“Yeah,” said Dick quietly. They all started to chuckle. Ron’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket. It was a text from his landlord saying his speakers were plugged in, but had sporadic sound and he wanted Ron to come over right away. His television sound wasn’t working, either, and the microwave wouldn’t stop beeping.
“Sweet Jesus. My landlord is good at getting defective stuff. Oh! Uh...if you ever need anything fixed, here’s my number...” Ron grabbed a pen and a napkin and scribbled down the series of numbers. “I’ll see you later.” Ron waved and exited the store, heading home.
Hours later, his phone buzzed.
Can i come over? It was Lip.
sure. just finished up
k. b there in 5.
Ron ran upstairs and rinsed himself off before the doorbell rang. He ran a towel through his hair and pulled the door open, smiling at his long-time friend.
“Hey, Li-” Ron felt the shock as his back was pressed against the wall. Carwood’s lips were pressed firmly on his and his hands were traveling all over his naked chest. Ron’s hands cautiously went up to Lip’s hair and began gently tugging on it. Their breathing quickened and Lip broke the kiss and stared at Ron, whose hands were on his thighs, supporting him while his chest expanded and contracted with the effort of breathing. Ron’s eyes met Carwood’s and he stood to his full height, which was a few inches taller than the other man. Ron took a few steps toward him and tilted his head, his expression unreadable. Lipton sat down on the steps and leaned back as Ron got closer and closer, until he closed the gap between them and slowly pressed his lips onto the chapped ones of his new lover.
Lipton slowly ran his hands up over Ron’s back, his fingertips dancing on his spine. Ron moved his right hand to the back of Carwood’s neck and used his left hand to support him on the step. Ron gently bit his bottom lip and grazed his tongue along his teeth, and Lipton opened his mouth. Their tongues battled for control as they explored the new territory. Carwood pressed up against Speirs and pushed him back toward the door. Ron slowly pulled away and rested his forehead against Lip’s.
“Upstairs. Now.” Ron was breathless as he pulled Carwood up the steps. He threw his door open and pulled him over to the bed where he threw him down and straddled his hips, supporting himself with his hands on the mattress as he leaned down and pressed his fevered lips to Carwood’s once again. Ron was practically sitting on top of him as Lip slammed his hips against Ron, whose fingers were fluttering against the skin on his abdomen as he attempted to pull his shirt off. Slowly, it inched up and they broke this kiss for only a second as it was pulled over his head and tossed to the pile of clothes already accumulating on the floor from Ron’s lack of perseverance for laundry. Carwood’s back arched up so that their chests were pressed together. His hands tangled in Ron’s wet hair and he pulled them even tighter together. Lip locked his ankle around Ron’s and moved his leg so that he was flipped, his back bouncing against the softness underneath them.
Carwood fiddled with Ron’s pants, liberating them from his legs and tossing them down with the pile of wreckage already accumulating. Ron tucked his fingertips under Lip’s jeans and ran his hands up over his spine, causing the man on top of him to shiver. Ron tilted his head back and closed his eyes and Lip took his own pants off and then removed both of their boxers.
Ron drew patterns on their skin, causing the blood in both of them to drain to lower parts of their bodies. Lipton met Ron’s eyes and held them for a few moments before inserting his erection. Ron flinched, having never experienced the sensation as rhythmic thrust shook his body. He felt something in the base of his spine and fill him to his abdomen. Their breath came shorter and more heated as Lipton bent down for a heated kiss before letting go into Ron, who moaned from the back of his throat as he, too, let go moments after.
Lip pulled out and flipped down over to Ron’s right. They stared at each other, and Ron grabbed for his lover’s hand.
“I’m sorry. I just...I’ve been feeling this way for a while and I just couldn’t suppress it any longer,” said Lip between gasps.
Ron gave him an understanding look, staring into the eyes of his lover. “I never realized what you do to me. You can’t even understand.” He pulled him in for a quick kiss before shoving him toward the shower. Carwood turned, staring at Ron, who shooed him inside, then went back to sit on the bed.
Joe stared at Web, who was fumbling with an icing bag. David looked up at him from the cake he was decorating and gave Joe a hard look. “I’m doing the best I can,” he mumbled angrily. “And it would help if you would just back off a little bit.”
“You want me to back off?”
“Yes.” David redirected his gaze back to a sorry-looking leaf. He scraped the icing off with his finger and flicked it at Joe. It landed on his cheek.
“Water’s broken. You have to clean it off, now.”
Webster rolled his eyes and walked over, placing his left index finger on Joe’s right cheek and smearing the icing off. Just as he was about to wipe it on his apron, Joe snatched his wrist and his tongue wrapped around David’s finger, cleaning off the sugary goo.
“Now I have to wash my hands,” he whined.
“That you do,” said Joe with a wink. As David walked over to the sink and turned on the faucet, he felt arms wrap around him and pull him around. Joe placed a hand on his chest and pressed him against the cool metal. “Forget it,” he said, his lips making contact with Webster’s shoulder. Bill and his dad had left, or were manning the outside. It was evening: no one was going to be around.
“J-Joe?” Webster stuttered, his chest rising and falling and his hands grabbing needily at the son of his employer. “Are you sure about this?”
“What kind of question is that?” He said, nipping at the skin on his neck and leaving a light purple mark. “Of course I’m sure.” His mouth moved up to his jaw and Web flinched when his teeth grazed against his jugular. “You’re just too pretty.” He could feel his pulse against Joe’s skin and Joe placed an hand on his shoulder and wrapped David’s arm around him as he moved up and slowly, gently pressed his lips to Web’s.
Joe pulled away after a few moments and ran his hand down Webster’s chest. “Just so pretty.” Joe reached around him and flipped on the sink and spun David around, pressing his cheek against his back, hugging him. “Wash you hands, Web, and I’ll take over while you go get your stuff.”
David nodded and turned off the water. He planted a quick kiss on Joe’s cheek and headed out for a cab to bring him to his hotel across town.
The hotel wasn’t exactly the best place in the world. There was a chain link fence surrounding it and the person working the lobby eyed him suspiciously as he entered the building. Another unfortunate aspect of this place was that the walls were paper thin, and he could hear everything that was going on in the rooms beside him.
He pulled out his room key and inserted it into the reader. The light turned green and he turned the handle, swinging the door open. David walked over to the dresser and cleaned out all his clothes and then got his bathroom stuff. He collected a few of his books laying around then grabbed his iPod, charger, and his messenger bag. He stuffed as much as he could in and then filled his pockets. He carried a book and headed out.
The elevator creaked and groaned until it got to the first floor. It dinged and creaked upon. He placed the key on the front desk with a smile, thanked the girl who was staring at him eerily, and shouldered his bag. Web turned and walked out onto the sidewalk.
The heat was beating up from the pavement and David brushed some sweat from his eyes. When he dropped his arm back to his side, he felt himself being shoved. He staggered and turned, facing a man who was much bigger than he.
“What’s your deal?” Web asked, anger spiking in his eyes.
“Gimme all your stuff,” the man had a low, commanding voice.
“What? No. Look, I’m not looking for any trouble. I’m just moving in with a friend. I’m just going to get a cab and get out of your way.”
“What, you fucking queer? More reason to beat you up.” The man growled and got very close to David’ face, his fist clenched.
“I’m not giving you anything, sir. I suggest you back off.”
Babe Heffron was from a nicer part of town, but as he and his friend Eugene Roe walked down the street where Roe lived, they saw a big man sizing up a younger one, about their age.
“Hey, Gene? Look over there.” Babe pointed and Gene followed his finger. The bigger man was beating the younger one and he was flinching away, but trying to put up a fight. Gene watched, torn as whether or not to go and save him or just wait it out. He was studying to be a nurse and he could help if something got out of hand, but he didn’t want anything to get out of hand. He had come in from Louisiana and had made quick friends with Babe, who was studying to be a bio-engineer.
“We should go help them,” said Roe in a panicked Cajun drawl. “He could get hur-” They both gasped and glanced at each other. A gun was pointed in the boy’s face and the man had his finger on the trigger. They couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it wasn’t pleasant. The boy was flinching, and Roe caught the word “fag,” and sprang into action.
“I’m going to fucking shoot you, faggot,” he screamed and the younger boy whimpered.
“Hey!” Yelled Babe, picking up a rock that was on the edge of the park behind them. “Let go of him!” Babe hurled the rock at the man and hit it just as it went off.
Webster screamed as the bullet tore through his flesh. He fell to the ground when the man let him go and ran away. Two men about his age ran across the street. One gingerly touched the wound and told his friend to call 911.
“Hey, buddy,” said the one with pale, pale skin and black, almost blue hair. His hands twisted David’s arm, to which he winced, but there was a definite hole in his arm. “You’re going to be alright. As long as you don’t move it too much, you won’t sever your artery. Hey, hey. Come on, look at me.” His voice was soft and kind and comforting, and Webster found himself staring into his eyes. The Cajun boy flashed him a small smile and smoothed out David’s hair. “Just hang in there. What’s you’re name?”
“W-Webster,” he stuttered. “David Webster. I-I was just going back to my friends, to work.”
“I know, I know. Things don’t exactly go as planned, do they?”
“Ambulance is on it’s way, Gene.” The other man’s hair was a rust color and he kneeled down beside the both of them and took Web’s hand in his own. “David, you said your name was? I’m Babe, and this is Gene.”
Web gave them a small smile and glanced down at his arm. His stomach clenched, things seemed to get really bright.
“David, come on, stay with me. Come on. The ambulance is almost here. Can you hear it? It’s here. Come on. Stay with us.” An unfamiliar voice took over, but it wasn’t as comforting, and David felt no need to fight the darkness that enveloped him.