webnovel

Pick Up the Pieces

Change comes to all of us. For Theo Bascopolis, the first time is when he's fifteen. He finds his life falling apart when his father discovers Theo is gay and orders him to become straight or leave. Having no choice, in spite of what his father might think, Theo leaves. But where can a fifteen-year-old go? Especially when it starts to rain. He thinks things are looking up when he meets a striking man named Franky, who seems very attracted to him. However, once again Theo's life changes when he learns all Franky wants is for him to hustle. And so Theo becomes the rent boy Sweetcheeks.<br><br>However, Franky underestimates Sweetcheeks, and the results of the ensuing fight sees Sweetcheeks fleeing to Washington DC, where he crosses paths with a group of rent boys who take him in. Finally Sweetcheeks has a family, a home, and an additional source of income in the form of apartments they're able to rent out.<br><br>His life changes again a few years later when a mysterious tenant by the name of Mark Vincent becomes the reason behind the assault on one of Sweetcheeks's boys. Vincent visits the boy in the hospital, bringing with him his equally enigmatic trainee, William Matheson. The instant attraction blindsides Sweetcheeks. In spite of knowing love isn't for rent boys, he hopes Matheson can see beyond the body he's offered to so many.<br><br>But Matheson has secrets of his own. Can Sweetcheeks overcome his insecurities enough to believe in the quiet man who's come into his life? Can Matheson keep his actual occupation a secret without it jeopardizing their budding relationship?

Tinnean
Not enough ratings
122 Chs

Chapter 73

My nose ran, and tears streamed down my cheeks as I heaved and heaved, and I just wanted to die. And then an arm came around my waist and a cool palm braced my forehead.

“It’s okay, Theo. Let it all come out. I’ve got you.”

Any thought I could have dredged up after that went flying out of my head. I was down for the count, and I didn’t care.

19

After I’d upchucked everything that was in my stomach, pretty much including the lining, Wills gave me some toilet paper to blow my nose and dry my eyes.

“Better, babe?”

“I’m sorry. Fine welcome after you’ve been gone a month.” I threw the toilet paper into the john and flushed.

“It’s better than being told I don’t have a boyfriend anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How much did you have to drink?”

“I don’t know. There was the Seagram’s.” I squinted, trying to remember. “And about half a bottle of vodka, and a couple of those little nips of Kahlúa, and most of the retsina, but Paul wouldn’t let me finish it.”