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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Travels - 5. Girls in Their Summer Clothes

Friday, 4 July 2014

“CJ!” With Defiant’s top down and the doors removed, the shout was easily heard as the Jeep inched towards the curb of the arrivals area at Washington National Airport.

“You know something?” Rod looked at CJ over the top of his sunglasses while shaking his head. “I’m getting tired of this shit. Everywhere we go we’re greeted by someone shouting your name. You walk into a bareven though you’re only sixteensomeone calls out to you, and everyone in the place looks. What the fuck’s up with that?”

“I can’t help it if I’m popular, cuz. Must be my good looks and winning personality,” CJ replied, chuckling.

“Fuck you, you conceited little shit! I’m warning you, if you start kissing babies and shaking hands, I’m gonna deck you. We don’t need you turning into a slimeball politician.”

“Fine, see if I invite you to stay in the Lincoln Bedroom after I’m elected.” As CJ bantered with Rod, he deftly maneuvered the Jeep in front of a black limousine, cutting it off and earning himself a sharp blast from the car’s horn. He stopped in front of the two young men standing at the curb, waving; he shifted into neutral, and pulled on the emergency brake. “Hop in, guys. Welcome to the party-mobile. Once inside, please make sure the trays are in the upright position and your seat belts are fastened. Let’s get the weekend started.”

CJ had insisted on picking up Bradley and Patrick who’d caught an early shuttle out of Boston’s Logan Airport. He was excited about seeing his friends and new neighbors; his license limited how many minors could ride with him so Rod had been cajoled into coming along since he was over twenty-one.

“Fuck, but it’s good to see you, bro.” Bradley vaulted over the side of the Jeep and tossed his backpack and shoulder bag in the small space behind the rear seats. “You’re so damn tan!”

CJ had left the house wearing flip-fops and a pair of cotton gym shorts, carrying a t-shirt in his hand which he’d not bothered to put on. “Hey, Brad! I spent most of last week driving all over the place without a shirt when I went on my road trip. Plus a couple of days running around a farm the same way. We’ll get you and Patrick started this weekend. You guys look pasty.”

“Fuck you and the Jeep you rode in on. Pasty, my ass.”

“Yep, it probably is. Hey, Patrick,” he said, greeting the younger boy who’d joined his brother in the back seat.

“Hi, CJ. Hi, Randy. I didn’t know―”

“Wrooong!” CJ interrupted, chuckling yet again as he slipped the car into gear and deftly merged into traffic flowing out of the crowded airport. “That ain’t Randy, it’s the other twin. Rod, the flaming redhead’s Brad, and the nice one’s Patrick.”

“Hey, guys. Don’t worry about it, Patrick. My brother and I get confused by everybody, and CJ loves correcting people.”

“Sorry…” Patrick mumbled in an apologetic tone. He and his brother were leaning forward, trying to speak over the roar of the wind as CJ sped towards the George Washington Parkway.

“Like I said, don’t worry about it. Happens all the time,” Rod twisted in his seat to bump fists with the two kids in the back. “So I hear this is your official move to Washington. You guys excited?”

“Fuck, yeah!” Bradley replied. “It’s gonna be great living with Dad and Pops. And being next to CJ and his dads rocks. We’re gonna be in the same situation he was in last year. Moving and living with two dads. And I can’t wait for school to start, believe it or not. We walk in as newbies with a bunch of cool friends already.”

“Hey, Speed Racer.” Rod tapped CJ on the arm, getting his attention. “How about slowing down a bit? We’re not in a rush, you know? I think they’ll wait for us before taking the boat out. How about you, Patrick? You ready for the move?”

“Yeah, probably more than Brad. It’s a little scary, but I didn’t have a very good year at school. I’m hoping Washington’s going to be better than Boston. And my brother’s right. Being friends with a few people before we start at Walls next month is good.” Patrick sounded sincere in his reply but was much more subdued than his brother. CJ hoped his friend could leave his problems behind and embrace the changes. He planned on helping both adjust in any way he could.

“I’m surprised you have so little luggage with you,” Rod said. “I’d expect you to have more considering the move’s permanent.”

“Nope, this is all we brought,” Bradley replied.

“Mom wants to meet JP, so he and Dad are driving us to Boston sometime next month before we start school,” Patrick added. “We’ll bring back the remainder of our stuff then and ship whatever won’t fit in the car.”

“No hockey sticks?” CJ asked, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Patrick’s a hockey player, Rod. And from what I hear he wields a mean stick.”

“Yeah, he is.” Brad sounded proud of his younger brother. “And you should have seen him take the stick to our own homophobic cousin when he started giving him shit. Implying my brother was gay just like our dad. It earned Patrick a suspension from the team, but I was cheering for him.”

When CJ pulled his car into the parking lot at the Gangplank Marina, Bradley didn’t wait until he’d turned off the engine. He jumped over the side, somersaulted over an ineffectual security chain, and jogged down the pier towards the PP. His shouts of “DAD!” caused several other weekend sailors to look up from whatever task they were in the middle of, smiling at the tall redhead who scrambled aboard the beautiful, white Lagoon 42 catamaran.

Tom had barely poked his head out the salon's door when his eldest wrapped himself around him. Moments later, Patrick joined his brother and father, the three talking at the same time, hugging each other. JP had followed his husband outside and stood back momentarily, obviously enjoying the happy reunion.

“Wait up,” Rod held his cousin by the arm, not allowing him to go anywhere. “Let them have a few minutes alone. We can get their bags.”

“Wanna bet Uncle Tom’s gonna start crying? He’s such a softie.”

“Don’t be a jerk, CJ. This is a huge moment for them. So what if the man tears up? We can’t all be hard asses like you.”

“Asshole. I have no problem with crying, done plenty myself over the past year. I just think it’s funny to see this tough-as-nails cop become a blubbering mass of Jello.”

“Do you have keys for the Caddy?” Rod asked, pointing at César’s black Escalade parked a couple of spots down. “Or do you think Uncle César took our backpacks on board already?”

“I’m sure either he or Papa did. As a matter of fact,” the boy added, pointing towards the boat, where his fathers had now stepped out on the deck and were motioning for them to join the crowd. “I think that’s our cue.”

Unlike the previous year, when CJ and Spencer―JP’s young cousin visiting from Australia―had been the only teens on board with a group of adult friends, this Fourth of July cruise was more of a family affair. Tom’s sons were sharing one of the forward cabins, while CJ and Rod took the other one. The two sets of fathers occupied their usual ones on the stern.

Once all the luggage and supplies had been loaded, the boys released the lines keeping them tied to the dock, and the PP gently motored out into the Washington Channel until it reached the confluence of the Anacostia and Potomac rivers. While Tom was at the wheel, JP busied himself fixing cocktails for their friends.

“Hey, Pops,” Bradley called out as the sleek vessel rounded Hains Point and entered the center channel of the Potomac in front of National Airport. “What’d you make? Can I get one of them?”

“Margaritas,” JP replied, looking at Tom with eyebrows raised in question. “Go inside and get tumblers for the three of you,” he added once his husband and César had given him almost imperceptible nods of approval.

“Cool!” the redheaded teen said, abandoning his spot on the rail while CJ and Patrick remained behind, intent on waving at all the other vessels crowding the waterway.

“But you don’t get full ones,” Tom shouted. “We don’t need you guys getting drunk and puking.”

“Where we headed, Uncle Tom?” CJ asked, accepting the clear plastic cup Patrick passed over and taking a sip from it. “Damn, that’s strong. I think this will be enough for me for a while.”

“South. We’ll stop near Fort Washington so we can swim and take out the Jet Ski. Then we’ll come back before sunset and anchor for the night. That way Brad, Paddy, and Rod can watch the fireworks this evening.”

CJ glanced sideways to check on Patrick’s reaction to his father using the nickname he’d been adamant about not liking. There was no visible response from his friend; he thought maybe the move to Washington would finally help the boy deal with his fears of being labeled gay. “Same place as last year?”

“More or less,” JP replied. “We’ll drop anchor near our old house in Alexandria. It’s an ideal spot to watch the display. Then tomorrow morning we’ll unfurl the sails and head towards the bay.”

“Good plan!” CJ enthused. “We can fish in the same area as last year and hopefully catch enough for dinner.”

“Glad you approve,” Tom said, chuckling. “Just remember who the lowly sailor is and who’s the Commodore.”

“Here we go again,” Brett groaned. “Delusions of grandeur.”

Later that evening, after the magical display above the city had concluded, the adults were inside the salon relaxing while the teens lay sprawled out on the net strung between the two pontoons at the ship's bow. They were tired from a long day and the after-dinner cocktail they’d been allowed had mellowed all three out. Bradley and CJ had finished theirs rather quickly but Patrick had only taken a sip before handing it over to his brother who quickly finished it.

“Thanks, CJ,” Bradley said, his face illuminated by the flame of the lighter he used to light the cigarette he’d plucked from behind his ear.

“For what?” CJ asked, leaning back on the ropes and lacing his hands behind his head. Although light pollution hid most stars, there were still a few shining through. Nothing like what he’d seen in the almost total darkness back at the farm in Wisconsin, but still a pretty sight. “And what the fuck are you doing with a cigarette?”

“Bad habit he’s picked up lately,” Patrick complained. ”I think it’s disgusting.”

“No picking on me, guys. It’s been an amazing day and I ain’t gonna let you ruin it. I don’t smoke a lot, CJ, maybe one or two a day. But if you have anything else I can puff on…”

“My dick?”

“Nope, that’s not about to happen.” Bradley shook his head while CJ and Patrick chuckled and bumped fists. “I was thinking more like weed. I could use a J right now.”

“You and me both, dude. You and me both.” CJ glanced behind them to make sure they were alone and lowered his voice so it wouldn’t carry through the open portholes. “My dads would probably be cool with it. But your father’s a cop. He may let you have a drink now and then, but smoking pot might be a bit much.”

“I’ll worry about big, bad Officer Thomas John Fitzgerald Kennedy if it comes to that. But if you can get hold of any good green let me know. I’ve got some money stashed away.”

“Sorry but nothing I can do right away. I can call up a kid from Walls I know later this week. Or maybe I can ask this one guy working on the basement remodel. I know he tokes. I’ll let you know. Maybe we can pick up a quarter and split it? We can keep it at my place and go out back, sit on the wall, and get high.”

“Count me in! Now, you wanna hear what I was thanking you for before our conversation got derailed?”

“Oh, there was a purpose to this conversation?” CJ asked, acting surprised.

“God!” Patrick exclaimed. “You can be just as much a dick as my brother. Shut up and let him talk already.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll shut up. Go ahead, Red.”

“Patrick and I talked about this on the way down from Boston. We both owe you big time.”

“What for?” CJ’s confusion was real, he had no idea what his friend was talking about.

“For getting us into Walls,” Patrick chimed in.

“I didn’t do shit.”

“Bullshit. We know we didn’t have to take the admissions test or go through all the required interviews. Patrick would have probably had no problems getting in. What with his grades being all As, but I was borderline, and we know you vouched for me.”

“And for me,” Patrick added. “I may have the grades, but my suspensions could have killed my chances. I know you put in a good word for me too.”

“Look, guys, I really―”

“Shut up, CJ. Let us finish. Mrs. Edwards told the two of us, Mom, and Dad the same thing. We were accepted because of your recommendation. She said you promised to keep an eye out for Patrick so he wouldn’t get in trouble. And you offered to tutor me and make sure my grades wouldn’t slip. We owe you.”

“Honestly, guys, it was nothing. I did the same for Chipper. You guys are my friends, and I’ll go to bat for you anytime. You’ve seen how tight your dads and mine are. I have a feeling this is the beginning of the same for us.”

“So do we, brother. So do we.” Bradley threw his cigarette butt into the water and wrapped his arm around CJ. “But I still ain’t getting anywhere near your dick,” he added while shaking CJ’s shoulders.

“Asshole!”

 

Monday, 7 July 2014

“CJ!”

“Happy birthday, little brother. I can’t believe you’re already twelve.”

César had left for the office early in the morning and Brett had departed for the Pentagon not much later to begin the separation process from the Marine Corps. After cleaning up the breakfast mess in the kitchen, their son headed to Yates Field House on the campus of Georgetown University to work out, leaving his cousin behind, still asleep. Rod had been adamant about not wanting to wake up early; he was on vacation. CJ was now back home and calling his brother while cooling down, before jumping in the shower.

“I know, right? I’ll be a teenager next year. Thanks for my presents. The FedEx man dropped them off just a little while ago.”

“Good, I asked for the package to be delivered today so you would get it on your day. So, what are you doing to celebrate?”

“We’re going for dinner at Aba’s tonight. And yesterday, Dad took me and a couple of my friends from school out on the boat. We rode out to Stiltsville to see the houses. We went snorkeling, and then we ate at the Rusty Pelican in Key Biscayne.”

“I like that place. It was always fun pulling up to the dock in the boat and just walking to a table and sitting down. Hey, did you get good presents?”

“Oh yeah, my friends gave me some video games and model airplanes. I’m gonna start building the Eastern Airlines DC3 today. Mom and Dad gave me clothes and stuff. But the best one I’ll get next week.” Ritchie had started building model airplanes a few years back and always received a couple of them for Christmas and for his birthday. The detail-oriented kid had become proficient in painting and assembling the plastic aircraft and many of them hung from ceiling hooks in his bedroom.

“What’s that?”

“Wingnut!”

“Ummm, what’s a wing nut, bro?”

“Not a what, silly. It’s a who. I’m getting a Golden Retriever puppy and his name’s gonna be Wingnut.” The volume in the boy’s voice had climbed and his excitement over the dog was palpable.

“Really? You’re getting a puppy? That’s awesome! I hope I get to meet him when I come down to Miami.”

“I can’t wait for you to get here, CJ. I miss you.”

“Miss you too, little brother. But I’ll be there in like a month.”

By the time their conversation ended, CJ was smiling but somewhat sad. He did miss having the little guy around. He thought maybe he’d talk to their grandmother when he was in Miami and ask her to work her magic again. It would be cool to have his brother come up for another visit in the fall.

 

Friday, 11 July 2014

“What the fuck’s up with you, homes?” Thiago was looking at his friend as they walked the few blocks to CJ’s house from the bus stop. “You’re away for two practice sessions and it looked like you wanted to kill the guy you were sparring with tonight. I thought you were over that shit.”

“I am. Pretty much. But you’re right. I was kinda aggressive tonight, wasn’t I?” The two teens had left the dojo together after a grueling practice. Thiago had a rare Saturday off from his job at the pharmacy, and his buddy had invited him to spend the night and hang out. “I’m pissed. Can you believe LeBron signed with Cleveland? Fucker goes to Miami, wins a couple of national championships with the HEAT, and now he crawls back to the Cavaliers trying to undo the bad publicity from when he left them.”

“Stop whining. You guys bought him away and now he’s trying to bring a championship to his hometown. Give him some credit.”

“Asshole!” CJ aimed an elbow at his friend which Thiago adroitly avoided. “Don’t be getting all logical on me. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Just goes to prove no matter how rich an owner may be, money can’t buy you a coffle to win games.”

“A what?” CJ asked, sounding confused.

“A coffle.” Thiago was grinning, apparently happy he’d been able to use a word his friend didn’t know.

“What’s that?”

“Damn, you’re a white boy. It’s an old word referring to a line of slaves tied or chained together.”

“You are an asshole for sure,” CJ exclaimed, chuckling. “Why am I even friends with you?”

“'Cause you love me!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, what’s this thing you mentioned you had to take care of tomorrow? I was hoping you could spend the whole day with us. I had a great time with Brad and Patrick last weekend. I want you to get to know them better. They’re gonna be part of our group.”

Thiago hesitated momentarily before answering. “I like them already; you don’t have to worry about that. But you know I need to work so I can save money for school. Anyway, about tomorrow, you can’t tell anyone yet, okay? I have a meeting with Mr. Rupple in the afternoon.”

“Mr. Rupple? My English teacher? The GSA advisor?”

“Yeah, he called this week asking me to meet him on the GW campus.”

“At George Washington University? What the hell for?”

“He wants to introduce me to a guy who teaches there. They both sit on some committee that’s administering a new scholarship for Walls students. Since I’m about to be a senior, I qualify.”

“Really? That’s awesome!” CJ’s excitement at his friend’s news was real. He knew what scholarship Thiago was talking about but was surprised he’d already been approached about applying for it. His dads had mentioned they would be offering only one to begin with, as a way of testing the program and the process, but not who Mrs. Edwards had suggested as the initial recipient.

“Yeah, it’d be real sweet if I land it. He told me he’d give me details when we met. But he did mention it would cover tuition, fees, books, and even room and board.”

“But you wouldn’t need that, right? You still want to go to Howard here in D.C.?”

“Yeah, but I have to get in first. I’m going to apply to a couple other schools to cover my ass.”

“Why bother? You know you’re gonna get into any school you want. But good luck anyway. I hope you get it.” CJ was being selfish. He didn’t want his friend to leave town when he graduated in a year. “And if you do, maybe you can cut back on the hours you work a bit? It’d give us more time to hang out together.”

“That’s a possibility. If I had a full ride, all the money my parents and I have saved would be enough for me not to have to work. But I still plan on doing it no matter what. Oh, man, it’d be awesome for the rents. One less thing to worry about and it would free up some money every month. Maybe they could even afford that trip they keep talking about. They want to go see Dad’s family in Brazil.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed.” And do some behind-the-scenes lobbying, CJ thought.

 

Like most Friday nights during summer, the Lowes Theater complex in Georgetown had been packed to capacity. The crowds were somewhat younger than usual since schools were out and teens flocked to the complex. CJ had gone online and bought four tickets for the opening night of Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, making it easy for Thiago, Bradley, Patrick, and himself to get in without too much hassle. They had shared a bucket of popcorn and a couple of large sodas during the movie but were now on the hunt for ice cream.

“That was intense,” Patrick said as they crossed K Street―under the Whitehurst Freeway―towards Georgetown Waterfront Park and the adjacent dining and entertainment complex. “This one was much darker than the last one.”

“Have you seen any of the original ones?” CJ asked.

“Nope, they’re really old, right?”

“Yeah, the dads have them on DVD. Maybe we should go back to my place and watch the first one. We have ice cream at home.”

“I kinda like this, CJ.” Bradley smiled and nodded at a college-age couple walking towards them before turning around to catch a glimpse of them once they’d passed by. “Nice ass!”

The other three boys simultaneously turned to see what their friend was talking about. “Damn! You’re right, bud. He has a great butt,” said CJ.

“I wasn’t talking about him, dipshit!” Bradley replied. “I meant the chick.”

“Dude, you look at whatever type of behind you like. I’ll look at the ones I prefer.” CJ punched his friend in the arm, shoving him sideways to reinforce his comment.

“Hey, how about we take them both home? You nail the guy while I do his girlfriend. I bet she’d appreciate some luck-o’-the-Irish in her.”

“Jesus, Brad,” Patrick exclaimed while Thiago and CJ laughed. “Do you have to be so crude all the time?”

“Relax, little brother. We’re not in Boston anymore, and we are not around those uptight Catholic girls we’re used to. Plus, we’re no longer living in that stupid neighborhood where everyone knows everybody and people gossip about everything. I’m tired of jerkin’ the gherkin. I’m ready for some pussy.”

“Yuck!” CJ exclaimed while Thiago held his stomach as he leaned over laughing. “That’s disgusting.”

“That’s okay, bro,” Bradley said, throwing an arm around CJ’s shoulders. “I don’t give a shit if you prefer dick licking to pussy eating. You’re still my brother.”

“You’re so fucking eloquent, Red,” Thiago cackled. “But you’re right, she did have an awesome ass and great tits.”

“Oh my God, is sex all you guys think and talk about?” Patrick asked, sounding exasperated.

“YES!”

“Damn right!”

“Fucking A!”

“I’ll change the subject so my little brother doesn’t squirm. How about we talk about the weather?” Bradley spread his arms widely and raised them as if wanting to embrace his surroundings. “It’s so nice and warm here compared to Massachusetts. Wadda you think, Patrick?”

“Yeah, it’s nice. Even when we have warm days back home, the nights can get chilly.”

“Gotta change your tune, little brother. Boston ain’t home anymore. We’re now Washingtonians. I like this place. And I love seeing people relaxed and walking around not bundled up.” Bradley abruptly stopped under the shine of a streetlamp. Couples walked by holding hands but his gaze was fixed on three girls sauntering down the sidewalk towards them. He stared as they passed by giggling, taking furtive glances at the boys over their shoulders. “Damn! I fucking love girls in their summer clothes.”

My thanks to all the readers who click the LIKE button and or leave comments in the review section. You can also join the conversation in the CJ discussion thread here: http://www.gayauthors.org/forums/topic/40435-c-j-by-carlos-hazday-series-discussion/page-62#entry639829
C. A. Hazday
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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5 minutes ago, AlexanderG74 said:

I am going to have to say that the author must like Bruce Springsteen a lot. Lot's of references to his songs.

First saw him in concert @ Georgetown's gym my freshman year in college. Had no idea who he was beforehand and it was love. Not the type to follow an artist around, but I've been to a few of his shows. I celebrated my 60th by seeing Springsteen on Broadway.

I stop using his songs as titles with this book.

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17 minutes ago, Carlos Hazday said:

First saw him in concert @ Georgetown's gym my freshman year in college. Had no idea who he was beforehand and it was love. Not the type to follow an artist around, but I've been to a few of his shows. I celebrated my 60th by seeing Springsteen on Broadway.

I stop using his songs as titles with this book.

My mother was a fan and introduced me to his music. Grew up listening to Springsteen, Mellencamp and Seger. 70's and 80's are an awesome era of music. 

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11 hours ago, AlexanderG74 said:

My mother was a fan and introduced me to his music. Grew up listening to Springsteen, Mellencamp and Seger. 70's and 80's are an awesome era of music. 

One of my beta readers delights in pointing out when I quote Billy Joel lyrics too. Along with Springsteen and Joel, Jimmy Buffet and Elton John are my favorite artists. I like storytellers and that's what they write and sing.

Like you, I grew up with parental music that sticks with me, and I wanted to show CJ doing the same before branching out on his own. Cesar loves Springsteen, Brett Motown and the Beach Boys, and CJ grew up listening to Jimmy due to his frequent forays into the Florida Keys. I'd tell you what I have in store with music, but I don't want to spoil the story for you. Let's just say music moves me and inspires me.

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