both characters are over eighteen.
*
"I'm hungry. Can you get me something?" I had just stepped out of my car to go into the fast food place for a quick breakfast. On the way to where I sell antiques and things, about a half hour away, the urge to eat made me pull off the highway. This was supposed to be a very quick stop. It turned out differently.
I look into the face of the kid asking for a handout. Figure him to be all of eighteen or nineteen. At thirty, I have known some pretty hard times myself...but not to the point of begging for anything. "Sure. Come on in."
"Two breakfast specials and coffees, please." The worker gives my 'guest' a knowing glance. I get a somewhat cooler stare.
"Bobby." I hold out my hand.
"Beau. And thanks." His grasp is strong. We get our food and sit at the back. I want to talk with my new friend.
"Tell me, Beau, what's your story?" Sometimes it is easier to talk with a stranger than with a close relative or friend. I have the feeling that Beau needs to talk, as well as to eat. But talking will have to wait. Beau is attacking his food like he has not eaten in a week. After a few sips of his coffee, he begins.
"Got kicked out for being..." He pauses to lock eyes with mine.
I nod. "It's okay."
"He beat me up, and I had nowhere to go. My dad freaked when he found out the details."
"Your dad beat you up?"
"No." Another long pause and eye lock. "My...ex." I had started to check him out in the parking lot. Look, I would have given food to anyone who asked and needed it. But it didn't hurt that Beau was a little hottie. Long auburn hair pulled back into a man-bun, tight tee showing nicely chiseled upper body, some good bulge to his arms...and a real nice bulge a little lower down. He walked with his hands in his pockets, head lowered, like a defeated cub. I held the door for him. His beautifully rounded and full ass entered the place ahead of me.
"Ah. Girl trouble." I'm not stupid. I figured it would take some awful big female to take Beau down. Must have been his ex boyfriend. But I needed him to say it. He gave a sheepish smile and shook his head.
"Bobby. I'm a fag. I do cock, not cunt. My ex was, like, forty, and at his age, bears do not like to hear the word: 'no'."
"What was the question?" I find myself more into his story at this point, than into the possibility of...other possibilities.
"Would I fuck for his buddies? I said no, because while he was inside my preference zone, his pals definitely were not. He had just come back from the bar; and his fists hit me hard before I could defend myself. After he was exhausted and passed out, I gathered my things and went back home. My dad went ballistic when he heard I was gay. He thought I was with a girl. He told me to..." Tears started to cloud Beau's expressive grey eyes. I reached over to squeeze his shoulder.
"You know the guy who took our order?" I had to clear that up.
"Just 'cause he's seen me two days in a row getting help from different marks. Sorry. No offense meant. I really appreciate the food. And the talk." He looks like he wants to smile, but it's just not happening right now. The kid is downtrodden. I will not take advantage of someone in his state. I will, however, offer more help to him.
"None taken. If you don't have better plans, come with me to my booth space. I can use the help unloading and setting up. Lunch included!" He is giving me the kind of deep stare that seeks to look into my very soul to get answers to his questions. He must have been satisfied.
"Sure."
Part 2 -
I sell my finds at a group shop. It helps pay my way. I usually have a dozen boxes in my car when I go there. Beau and I have a half hour ride to get to know each other better.
"So who fits your 'preferences'?" I shoot him a quick glance while driving.
"You're no bear...but you'll do!"
"Thanks. I think. Look, Beau, you don't have to..." His hand is on my thigh.
"I know. I want to. You're the first person in a month who has shown me any real kindness."
"You got kicked out a month ago? Where do you sleep and stuff?"
The 'Y'; and the park on nice days. I started thinking about making some money when mine ran out last week."
"Doing what?" I could have chosen better words.
"I don't have antiques to sell, Bobby, but I do have a rockin' body!" He actually sounds upbeat.
"That you do, Beau. That you do." Small talk ensues, and before long, we pull into the parking lot of the group shop. Beau and I grab a few boxes, and as we enter the building, he stops in his tracks.
"Damn. This is awesome!"
