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    Hylas
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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. 

Running - 2. Chapter 2

Bryan burrowed deeper under the pillows, soft and warm from the brilliant yellow sunlight streaming through the windows. His bare feet were poking out of the sheets, and he drew them back in and sighed in comfort. Dreamily he noticed that the vague smell of the bed was slightly different. Not that he was complaining, it was pleasant in an intangible way.

His back was slightly damp from sweat. It was getting just a mite hotter than was comfortable as more sunlight streamed into the room. His eyes snapped open when he realized that he still had most of his clothes on. He always slept naked. Throwing back the covers he was shocked to find himself in a strange bed... in a strange room. Memories of yesterday's events came rushing back to him and he sat up with a start.

And in a strange town.

"Where am I?" Bryan whispered to himself. Looking around warily, he surveyed the less than tidy room. Books, lots of books were strewn around the bedroom floor. A picture of a smiling family of three was on one of the walls. A computer stood to one corner. On the bedside stand was a half-filled ashtray, some more books, a pitcher of water, a clock that read 8 AM, and another picture of a smiling brown haired young man about his age and a girl of probably 10 holding up a salmon proudly. He rubbed at his eyes sleepily then quietly started to look for his backpack. It wasn't anywhere in sight, but his shoes were tucked neatly at the foot of the bed. Lunging on his belly, he snatched them up and sat on the edge of the bed. He was still pulling his socks back on when he heard a noise from somewhere on the other side of the door. He froze and strained his ears to hear better.

A phone was ringing. Someone picked it up and a man's voice filtered through the closed door of the bedroom. "Hello? Yeah, I checked on him earlier. He's still asleep, Gi." Chuckling. "No, Gi. Yeah. I'll call Bridget if I have to. I'm cooking breakfast for us. Mind the cafe for me for a few hours, okay? I swear I'll be there as soon as I can. Yeah. Bye and take care too. Love ya."

Some more shuffling around then silence. Bryan finished lacing up his shoes then got up quietly. He tiptoed to the door and cracked it open. Peering throught the gap furtively, he caught a glimpse of someone moving in one of the rooms outside. The smell of breakfast wafted through his nose, illiciting a rumble of hunger. Panicky at the thought of meeting someone who could turn him in, he quickly shut the door again and hurried over to the windows. He started to open the latches then held back. He could sneak out from here, but he realized he couldn't leave his backpack. He had to find it first. Not to mention that the odor of food had reawakened the dull pain in his stomach.

Swallowing his fear, Bryan regretfully closed the window again. How did he come here, anyway? Someone probably found him on the park last night. God knows he was too tired to notice anything. But... he was a stranger, how could anyone have trusted him enough to let him sleep in their own house? Still, he owed that someone. The least he could do was thank him. But he swore not to impinge further on his kindness. He can make it through alone, he won't beg.

Keeping his head down self-consciously, Bryan pushed the bedroom door open again, making as much noise as possible. He didn't want to be accused of sneaking around, especially with him being a total stranger and all. Someone was whistling in what had to be the kitchen.The smell of food cooking was stronger and his mouth watering uncomfortably. Making his footsteps audible ot the point of almost stamping them, Bryan made his way slowly toward the noise. Coming around a corner, he found himself staring at the young man in the picture in the bedroom. A very attractive young man. He did look a bit older than he did in the photo, but probably only a couple of years older than him. He was well built and about Bryan's height - 5'10. He was bare from the waist up and Bryan found his eyes drawn to the corded muscles on his back. He was dancing rather comically and whistling to a tune from the ipod strapped on his jeans. Earphones were tinnily blaring out a popular rock tune. Bryan realized that for all the noise he'd made, the guy wouldn't have been able to hear him at all. He started to turn and leave quietly, but he somehow couldn't take his eyes from the guy. His lips began to curl up in amusement, when the guy did a little impromptu headbanging. He was irresistibly cute in the rugged kind of way. Soft brown hair cut short, sideburns complementing a goatee, and softly tanned skin of someone who loved the outdoors.

As the man reached over for some mugs from an overhead cupboard, he caught a glimpse of Bryan through the corner of his eye. He started and pivoted swiftly to face Bryan. The mug he had taken hold of slipped and fell crashing into the floor, shattering with a hollow boom that made both of them cringe. For a long moment, they stood staring at each other in silence. His clear green eyes rapidly shifting from the broken pieces to Bryan and back again. Bryan half-expected them to start wiggling their fingers around his waistband like dueling cowboys in one of those old westerns. The thought made Bryan crack a smile that seemed to break the tension in the air. The guy smiled back and pulled out his earphones, blushing furiously.

"Hi. Umm... I'm sorry, I didn't hear you wake up..." He stammered. "How long have you been there?" He asked, blushing pinker.

"Not long." Bryan lied uncomfortably. "I'm sorry for startling you. Here let me help..." Before the guy could dissuade him, Bryan had already stridden over to the broken pieces and had started picking them up. The guy ducked down hurriedly to help, obviously still flustered at being caught unawares.

The pieces were soon safely piled unto some old newspapers and disposed off. The guy swept off the remaining shards then turned back to Bryan.

"Umm... Good morning." He grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry for that. I guess I was just used to living alone."

Bryan kept his eyes bashfully on the floor and shrugged slightly. The guy stretched a hand out. "I'm Matthew Engels, by the way. Call me Matt."

Bryan took the guy's warm grip and shook it briefly. "I'm Bryan." He paused when he realized he was about to blurt out his real family name. Then realizing that manufacturing a phony family name after the pause would probably look juvenile, he bit his tongue and added nothing more.

Bryan felt like an idiot but thankfully Matt just shrugged.

A sputtering sound interrupted the momentary awkwardness and both of them turned towards the stove where some bacon where turning browner than they normally should be. Muttering a curse, Matt hurried towards it and began taking them off the pan. "Bryan, umm Bry?" Bryan nodded at the nickname. "Go on ahead and sit down at the table. This'll be ready in a minute."

Bryan obediently made his way to the table on the adjoining room and sat down. He regarded the floral pattern on the placeholder in front of him as thoughts ran through his head. He like the guy - Matt, he corrected himself. The fact that he was dashingly handsome didn't help matters a lot. He couldn't afford to trust someone in his state. He had to find a way to thank him for his help and leave. He still needed to find a job, and find one quick. He can't impose himself on others.

Bryan pondered on a way to leave graciously. He remembered the few dollars he had remaining in his backpack and decided to pay him for his trouble instead. Yes, that would probably be for the best. He can't let the guy know that he was hard out, he'd probably alert the authorities... then where would that leave him? Ported back home to LA to face his parents. Parents who couldn't accept what he was.

The sound of footstpes behind him made him turn around. Matt was carrying a pitcherfull of orange juice in one hand and two empty glasses in the other rather awkwardly. Bryan stood up and took the pitcher from him as Matt placed the glasses on the table. "Help yourself, Bry. I'll serve up in a moment."

"Thanks... um... Matt" Bryan answered gratefully, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. He gulped it down thirstily, assuaging his gnawing hunger somewhat.

Matt had paused and was regarding him silently. The guy was even more gorgeous awake. Bryan's black hair was buzz cut. Accentuating his almost feminine lashes and full lips. A pleasant contrast on the undeniably masculine face and body. And those eyes... a soft brown that glittered with liquid warmth... and a slightly bowed shape that hinted at their owner's love of laughter.

Realizing that Bryan was fidgeting uncomfortably under his gaze, Matt laughed a bit self-consciously and murmured his welcome. He hurried back to the kitchen, another blush creeping up on his cheeks.

Be careful, Matt told himself as he reached the counter, Gi is right. You don't know anything about this guy. For all his good looks, he could still be a hunted criminal.

Matt couldn't quite find himself believing that, though. The guy looked like he wouldn't hurt a fly. And something in the way he moved told him that he'd been hurt emotionally recently, not the other way around. Matt found himself wanting to protect him. To take away what pain those eyes hid. To make those eyes laugh again. To see those lips curl up in a genuine smile of happiness...

Stop it. He berated himself. He's not your boyfriend. He's probably straight, anyway.

Matt busied himself to heaping food unto two plates, but his mind kept wandering over to the possibilities of this guy. Matt was gay, a fact known throughout town. He was pretty well liked, but that didn't stop the loneliness that had always been with him. Emerett was a small town, and as far as he could tell, no one else here was gay. His high school best buddy had been bi but had since moved on to Salt Lake City. He had a girlfriend anyway. He had briefly entertained the possibility of moving elsewhere and finding someone to love when he graduated from high school, but he loved Emerett too much. Then the cafe business came up, and he couldn't just leave it. Maybe someday he'll meet someone online or something. But for the meantime, he had resigned himself to a life alone. And now... this total stranger comes out of nowhere and he just couldn't help but start hoping that maybe... maybe...

"Ow!" Matt yelled out and quickly brought his finger to his lips. He had taken hold of the still hot pan with his bare hands absentmindedly.

"You alright there, man?" Bryan called out in concern from the next room.

"Yeah, Bry. Don't worry, just make yourself comfortable out there." Matt cursed under his breath and ran the injured finger under the faucet. It was turning red, but no visible blistering, thank God. He donned on a mitten like he should have earlier then lifted the steaming pan and placed it along with the other dirty utensils in the sink. Taking the mitten off again and briefly rubbing the injured finger absently, he grabbed hold of the filled plates and carried them back to the dining room.

Matt set a plate in front of Bryan and seating himself in the opposite chair. Leaning back respectfully, he expectantly glanced at Bryan.

Neither one budged.

The uncomfortable silence was broken when Bryan's stomach decided to give a pretty audible protest at the delay. Bryan blushed crimson to the the roots of his hair and Matt burst out laughing. After a moment's hesitation, Bryan joined in. Pretty soon, both were laughing so hard that neither one could gasp out a word for a full minute.

Finally, they quieted down enough to recover their breaths.

"Oh...man... I'm sorry." Bryan panted out breathlessy, still grinning goofily.

"No... It was my fault." Matt was still wiping tears from the corner of his eyes. "I was waiting for you to say graces or something."

"No, man." Bryan chuckled. "I'm atheist."

"I figured you were." Matt replied, still chuckling at the recent absurdity. "So am I. Sorry. I just had this thing with stereotypes. You're latin american aren't you?"

"Yeah. My grandparents from both sides of the family were from Mexico."

"I thought you'd all be Catholic." Matt smiled wryly. "I'm really sorry, Bry. I didn't know you were that hungry."

"Well..." Bryan avoided looking at Matt's eyes.

"You are, aren't you?" Matt's smile faded at the realization. His voice had taking on an edge of concern in it. "Wait... don't tell me... you haven't eaten anything yesterday, either?"

"Well... I... uh..." Bryan trailed off.

"You didn't. Damn." Matt slammed a fist on the table and cursed himself softly. "I'm sorry, Bry. I'm such a jerk sometimes. Go on, man. Dig in."

Bryan tentatively took a bite from his plate, his mind in turmoil.

He'd gone and done it. Betrayed his true state of affairs to this stranger. He'll probably escort me to the police station after this meal. But he really couldn't help it, he really was hungry as hell.

The first taste of solid food sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout Bryan's body. He never dreamed food could taste this good. He tried to eat slowly but the hunger finally won over and he found himself wolfing down the plate in seconds.

"Here, I can't finish it." Matt's soft voice urged him. He looked up to see Matt pushing a plate of bacon at him. Embarassed but still hungry, he accepted the plate, murmuring his thanks.

Eating more slowly, he studiously avoided meeting Matt's gaze.

"So... Bry. What brings you to Emerett?" Matt asked.

"Looking for a job." Bryan replied evasively.

Matt just nodded and didn't say anything else as he waited for Bryan to finish the meal.

When Bryan was done and had pushed the empty plate away, Matt once again tried to get through the younger man. "Judging from last night, you obviously have nowhere to stay yet, Bry." Bryan kept silent so Matt pushed on. "I'm asking you to stay here in the meantime, Bry."

"I just can't." Bryan blurted out in a pained voice. Standing up hastily, he frantically scanned the room "Where's my pack? I've got some money there, and I can pay you, but I really can't..."

"Bryan... " Matt's hand covered Bryan's on the table. "Calm down, man."

Bryan stood still. Matt's hand over his own was gentle. Comforting and light enough not to be restraining. But it seemed to hold him back somehow. Seemed to tell him that everything would be alright soon. Exhaling loudly, Bryan gave in and sat back down. "I'm sorry... I was babbling."

Matt gave Bryan's hand one more comforting pat before he withdrew to pour himself some orange juice. He gulped down half the glass before continuing, "Bry, I don't know what you've been through. And trust me, I don't want to know until you're ready. But listen to me first,. I know how hard out you are. I'm sorry but I had to look through your pack yesterday." Matt paused and waited for Bryan's reaction.

Bryan said nothing. Knowing full well that he'd do the same if he was in Matt's position.

"I had to make sure you weren't an axe murderer or something..."

"Well, I'm not." Bryan replied defensively.

"I know." Matt chuckled. "I also know, you only had... umm... five bucks and 35 cents on you."

Bryan started to get up angrily but sat back down at another restraining hand on his arm.

"Hey. Calm down." Matt told him firmly. "I'm not making fun of you, Bry. I know this may seem incredulous to you, but I'm really here to help, man. This town's not like wherever you were from. We help each other out here."

Bryan still glared at him silently from across the table.

"Look." Matt sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'll make you a deal. I just can't stand the thought of you sleeping out on park benches again, Bry. And Bridget's accomodations certainly aren't for you. You can stay here in the meantime. Food and lodging are on the house until you can get back on your feet. And I can find you a job. If you want, It'll not even be charity. You'll can pay me for rent as soon as you have enough money on your own, okay? Though honestly, I would prefer it if you didn't."

Bryan was torn between not wanting to owe anyone any favors and the sheer common sense of what Matt was offering. He briefly weighed in the chances of his finding a job and accomodations on his own before running out of money and had to reluctantly concede that it was next to nil. He had no choice. Matt didn't seem to be the sort to use people, anyway. If the job Matt had in mind for him pays well, he can pay Matt back in a few weeks and find a place of his own by then.

On the other hand... getting to close to the locals might draw undue attention to his past. He wouldn't want to be sent back home and face the harebrained homosexuality-curing counseling sessions that his father had arranged for him. But then again, Matt had explicitly told him he wouldn't pry.

Besides, in another week, he'd be eighteen and legally an adult. He seriously doubted that would stop his parents from dragging him back home, but at least the law would be on his side then.

Matt was waiting anxiously for Bryan's reply. He hoped that the kid had enough sense in him to see the wisdom of staying here for a while. If he said no, nothing he could do or say would stop him from leaving. Leaving into god knows what bleak future awaited him. Left alone, he'd probably end up neck deep in crime or the sex trade like thousands of runaways like him have before. Matt knew he could help him avoid that. But first, the kid had to let him.

"So...?" Matt urged.

Bryan turned his eyes back to meet Matt's. "So... tell me about this job..."


 

Copyright © 2011 Hylas; All Rights Reserved.
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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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