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. 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. 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. 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 · LGBT+

Không đủ số lượng người đọc

122 Chs

Chapter 9

* * * *

My meeting with Shane must have signaled a change in my luck, although I didn’t realize it at first.

I walked the streets of DC for hours, not knowing where to go, trying to think what to do, scared spitless and trying not to show it. I turned down what happened to be a blind alley and found myself on the fringe of something bad.

A kid about my age was facing off a gang of street trash. “We been watching you, pussy boy,” one of them yelled. “And we don’t want your kind in our neighborhood.”

“Grab the little queer.”

“Get his pants off.”

“We’re gonna fuck his faggot ass.”

They goaded each other, obviously trying to work themselves up to committing serious mayhem.

There was something about the dark-haired kid’s determination to stand strong against them, and I decided to try to help. “The cops are coming!” I shouted. “Somebody called the cops!”

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