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    Mark Arbour
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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. 

If It Fits - 17. Chapter 17

July 6, 1995


“You do not have to stay here all night,” I told Alejandro.

“You are my family, no? I will be here.” I looked at him carefully, then smiled and put my arm around him.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” he said. “Besides, you are arranging for me to have a boy to play with next week. How cool is that?” I laughed for a minute until I felt guilty.

“Do not be too forward. You do not want to scare him away.” I felt guilty for not telling Mike that Alejandro was gay, but I felt it wasn't my place. He'd figure it out soon enough anyway.

JP came out looking glum, and then it was my turn. Mike had stopped by the hospital and arranged for Max to be there all the time, with one other visitor alternating in and out, so JP and I were taking turns. Max sat there holding Marcel's hand, the tears pouring down his cheeks in one continuous stream. JP and I brought him water in to keep him hydrated. I sat across from him, on Marcel's left side.

“I can't believe I did this,” he said to me.

“That is not entirely fair,” I told him. “You two both made mistakes, and when Marcel wakes up he will tell you the same thing.”

“What if he doesn't wake up? What then Stef?”

“You must not think like that. He is very strong, very capable. You will see.” I looked down at Marcel and studied his face. He looked so much like his father, so much like Jeff, that it was painful beyond measure. Was this what Jeff looked like when he slid into death? Then there was something else there. It was a strange feeling, a spiritual feeling, a presence. Until that point, I'd felt nothing from him as if his body were an empty shell. But now I felt him there. He was back.

“What?” Max asked, looking at me, worried.

“He will live,” I said with a smile.

“How do you know that?” he demanded.

“I just do. He will live. He will live.” I lifted Marcel’s hand up. “Watch this,” I told Max, then sucked Marcel’s index finger into my mouth like it was a dick. Max giggled, and Marcel's mouth twitched ever so slightly. “See. He's trying to smile.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, we began to see more signs of life. Facial tics, nervous movements of his hands, all small things, but all positive signs. JP came in to relieve me and stood there in awe, watching Marcel as he began to return to us. It wasn't pretty as he twisted and turned, his body alternately rejecting the drugs that had almost killed him, yet demanding more.

“He is in for a tough couple of hours,” JP said. He'd been through this with Jeff. He knew the drill. The nurse came in and observed his condition, then went to retrieve the doctor.

“We're going to give him something to ease the withdrawal,” he told us as they injected something into Marcel's IV. Then they were gone. Another hour or so seemed to pass; I didn't know how long it really was, but it seemed like an eternity. Then his eyes flickered and opened. JP put his arm around me as if to congratulate us on his survival, but Marcel wasn't looking at us. He was looking at Max.

“Max.” His voice was almost a whisper. Then his mouth made a lopsided smile. “You are here.”

“I am. And I'm staying here. I'm staying here with you.” Marcel's lips quivered and his eyes flickered, proof of the emotion that gripped him.

“Sorry,” Marcel said softly. “So sorry.” These words seemed to sap his energy.

Max leaned over and kissed his lips gently in the most loving and tender kiss I think I'd ever seen. “I'm sorry too. Let's look forward, not back.”

“Tired,” Marcel said that as his eyes closed gently.

“Sleep baby. I'll be here the whole time. I'll be here when you wake up,” Max said. And then Marcel was out again, only this time he was resting, and this time we knew he would live. Max turned to me. “Go back to the hotel and get some rest. I'll call you if anything changes.”

“What about you?” JP asked.

“I'll be right here where I belong.”

July 7, 1995

I sat in the hospital room with Marcel. JP and Alejandro had gone out to get us something to eat, while Max was in the bathroom in Marcel's room taking a shower and cleaning up. “Why?” I asked, the question that had been on my mind since I'd found him in bed.

“To make it stop hurting,” he said, looking at me sadly.

“You had to know he was coming back to you,” I said.

“I missed him so much, and I felt so guilty, so horrible. I felt like I had killed someone, only it wasn't a person, it was us, Max and I.”

“That's no reason to kill yourself,” I said, not a little pissed off.

“I wasn't trying to kill myself,” he said, equally irritated.

“You OD and now you say you were not trying to kill yourself?”

“No. Look at my arms. See. There's one injection mark, one. Right there. I got the shit and thought I'd try it. It was supposed to dull the pain. I did not realize you were not supposed to do all of it.”

“So you are not suicidal, you are just stupid?” I teased, and made him smile.

“That is correct.”

I felt a presence behind me and felt Max standing there, his blond hair still wet and tangled. “Very stupid,” he said. Then he leaned in and kissed Marcel.

“So how was sex with Stefan?” Marcel teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Awesome, just like we thought it would be,” he said, and reached over to pinch my nipple playfully while he leaned in to kiss Marcel.

“I'm sorry if we hurt you,” I said to Marcel.

“I was not hurt about the sex. Hell, Max could have, should have, fucked the whole world after what I did. I was hurt about losing him, the person,” Marcel told me, but it was Max he was talking to. “When can I get the fuck out of here?” he asked, changing the subject.

“You have to be here for a while,” I told him. “There are issues to deal with, legal, medical, and mental.”

“Explain them to me,” he said. JP and Alejandro came strolling in carrying deli sandwiches. “Did you get one for me?”

“You have to eat hospital food,” JP said.

“You can have half of mine,” I said, handing him half of my sub.

“You're cute,” Marcel said to Alejandro. “Who are you?”

“I'm Alejandro,” he said. “You're cute too, but you are too old for me.” The boy was learning.

“Damn,” Marcel said, flashing him his smile. “Well nice to meet you anyway Alejandro.” Alejandro didn't say anything, he just focused on eating.

“He is 15. It is his way,” I told Marcel, trying to explain Alejandro's weird mannerisms.

“So explain to me why I cannot leave right now?” Marcel asked again, with his mouth full.

“Your body has to fully recover,” I told him. “And they want to make sure you are not suicidal.”

“I'm not suicidal. I was not then, I am not now.” He grabbed Max's hand. “Especially now.”

“Then there are the legal issues,” JP said. “You were using an illegal narcotic and they arrested three men in your apartment bringing you another illegal narcotic.”

“Oh,” he said, deflated. “I will need an attorney.”

“I took the liberty of hiring one for you,” JP said. Of course he had. How typical. “I hope you do not mind.”

“Thank you JP,” Marcel said, flashing him that look that he'd given him so often when they were lovers, a couple. It was a little disconcerting to see JP return it.

“We are going back to LA tomorrow,” I said. “We're taking some friends back to visit.”

“And a boy for me to play with,” Alejandro said, making us all laugh.

“Yes, and a boy for you to play with,” I said, rolling my eyes. “They will be there for a week. I am hoping that when the plane brings them back here, it can bring you back to LA for the summer. Come stay with us.”

“Will Cody be there?” Marcel asked. I saw Max look concerned, distraught almost.

“He will,” I said simply.

“Good. I need to apologize to him for being such an asshole.” I smiled at him and kissed his cheek. The Marcel I'd known for the past few months, the total dick that had pissed me off so badly, that Marcel was gone. The old Marcel, the young man I loved like a son, he was back, and that made me so happy.

July 8, 1995

We stood on the taxiway next to the plane, waiting for Mike and Casey. We were early, so it wasn't their fault we were stuck cooling our heels. Cooling was not the word for it. It was morning and it was already hot, that horrible muggy heat that you get in the Midwest during summer. It would be good to escape it. A car pulled up and parked next to the terminal building and Mike got out, followed by Casey. They came walking over toward us.

“He is a total dork,” Alejandro said, annoyed.

“And you will be nice to him or I will flay you alive,” I said through my gritted, smiling teeth. As they got closer to us, though, I could see Alejandro's point. Casey was, well, he was round. He was chubby, not fat, chubby. That he was a little over six feet tall did not seem to mitigate the look of chubbiness, and even if it would have, it would have returned when you got to his face. His face was round, almost totally round when he smiled, a big goofy grin. There was a string of freckles across his upper cheeks and nose, red freckles, the same color as his hair. He'd evidently gotten his hair from Mike, but Casey had his cut in what was almost a bowl shape. It was hideous, just like his clothes. He wore tight jeans, so not in style now, and a Cubs T-shirt. His only redeeming features were his large biceps that seemed hidden underneath his layers of fat. This kid needed a complete makeover, I thought with a smile.

“You must be Casey,” I said, extending my hand. “This is Alejandro, and JP.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said shyly, but his eyes were on Alejandro. Alejandro just nodded and gestured for Casey to follow him onto the plane, not an unfriendly gesture, just a boyish one. No real requirement for verbal communication when you could accomplish your goal with shrugs and gestures.

“How is Marcel?” Mike asked as we took our seats.

“He is alive. He will be fine,” I told him. “Seems he was unfamiliar with drugs, and how much to take.”

“Tough go. There's some strong shit out there now,” he said.

“He has to stay in the hospital for a few days still, and then I'm sure he will have some legal issues to get through, but I'm hoping that we will be able to get him out to California for the rest of the summer,” I said.

“That's probably doable,” Mike said. He looked toward the back of the plane where Alejandro was showing Casey all the cool things about the plane. “This will be good for him, to get away for a week.”

“Things have been hard on him?” JP asked.

Mike nodded. “His mother wasn't real understanding when he came out to us. It may have been the way that it happened. She caught him blowing one of his teammates.”

“What does he play?” JP asked.

“Baseball. He loves it, and he's pretty good, even though he has my metabolism. Seems he's always been overweight.”

“He is still growing. As I recall, you were pretty sexy when you were young,” JP said.

“Still are,” I said, flirting shamelessly, and making Mike blush. When he blushed his red skin clashed with his reddish orange hair, making it that much more obvious. I changed the subject to ease his discomfort. “That is why Alejandro is with us. He had a tough go of it, being gay.”

“He is gay?” Mike asked nervously, looking back as the two of them chatted away. “Casey may end up really enjoying his vacation.”

“I think it will be good for both of them to have a friend,” JP said. He always sounded like such a sage it was easy to take his comments as gospel.

“Anything will be better than staying here in this heat,” Mike said. “It's so fucking hot it's scary.” He sighed. “We're not used to this kind of weather. There will be lots of people with problems, especially old people.”

“That's sad,” JP observed somberly. “It will be good for you to get away from it.”

“So what do you want to do while you're in LA?” I asked.

“I don't know,” he said. “Hang out on the beach.”

“I think we can do a little better than that,” I said, smiling. We landed in LA and the limo was waiting for us. Mike and Casey were already overwhelmed by the plane, and now the car and the house were making them a little uncomfortable. I decided that a relaxing day on the beach was in order, and sent them down to enjoy the surf. Robbie and Cody took them down and got out the surfboards, while JP and I tracked Brad down.

He was in his office, looking tired and haggard. “I met with an attorney yesterday. He told me that even though Bitty signed away guardianship all those years ago, she still has parental rights. The question is whether they're sufficient to let her take the boys away, or just to allow her to visit.”

“Is there anything proactive you can do?” JP asked.

“The only real danger is a sneak attack, where she shows up with a sheriff and a court order to take them away,” Brad said nervously. “We'd have to make sure to have the kids gone long enough to get a California Court to stop them.”

“Can your brother tip you off if she tries to do that?” I asked.

“If his loyalties are with us, maybe. If they're with her, no,” Brad said sadly. “I can handle just about anything, but to have my family ripped apart ... Jesus, Stef. I don't know how I can handle that. I love those kids as if they were my own. And Jeanine is so upset the doctor's had to give her Valium just to calm her down.” He was really distraught, more than I'd ever seen before.

“You must be patient and prepared,” I told him. “We are all behind you. We will work through this together.”

“I wish I had your confidence Stef,” Brad said. A tear fell down his cheek, a rarity for Brad. I heard a noise and turned to see Alejandro looking at us.

“What is the problem?” he asked.

“It's nothing,” Brad said. I saw the look on Alejandro's face, the look of someone who didn't like being patronized.

“You met Bitty in Claremont, Brad's sister. She used to be a crack whore, and he raised her children for her, Darius and JJ. Now that she is recovered, she wants to regain custody,” I told him simply.

He nodded. “I am sorry,” he said to Brad. “If there is anything I can do, just let me know.”

Brad smiled at him. “Thanks, Alejandro. Now that Bitty's gotten her act together, I don't think there's much we can do but fight her after she makes her move.”

Alejandro nodded, as if he really didn't hear him. “I am wondering if we can take Casey and Mike out on the ship?”

“We can. Why do we not stay here for a few days to settle in first,” I told him. “You are getting along?”

“He is dorky but cute in his own way,” Alejandro said, as if talking about a puppy.

July 12, 1995

I'd left JP and Cody in bed and come down to get some breakfast. Cody had been happy to see us, and seemingly not upset at all that Max was gone. I knew better, I knew him better. It must have really hurt him to have Max just drop everything, to drop him, and run off to see Marcel. That he knew it was coming, that he knew Max would get back together with Marcel, didn't make it any easier. I'm glad we were there to help console him, but I think it was his new career that absorbed his focus and really helped him get over Max.

The kitchen was empty but for one person: Mike. “Have you seen Casey?” Mike asked. “He's not in his room.” That didn't surprise me at all. He was usually in Alejandro's room.

“I have not, but I will go track him down for you. Is something wrong?” I asked.

“We have to go back to Chicago. They've canceled all vacations and recalled the entire force,” he said with both resignation and determination.

“Why?”

“This heat wave,” he said soberly. “It's like a huge furnace in Chicago. The urban heat island retains the heat, so every day it just gets hotter and hotter. We have to try and get people to cooling centers, to try and save those without air conditioning.”

“So you must go back?” I asked.

“I don't have to go, but I need to go,” he said. It was his duty, his responsibility to be there. He reminded me of JP.

“Why not let Casey stay with us?” I asked. “He and Alejandro are getting along well, and he seems to like it here.”

“What's not to like?” Mike asked with a smile as he waved his arm, indicating that life in Malibu is pretty good. “They may be getting along too well.”

“If you take him home, they will both be lonely and miserable. You think that is best?” I asked logically.

He sighed. “I wouldn't want to impose.” I just stared at him. “Alright, alright. He can stay. But I still need to book myself out on a flight. And no, you're not flying me back.”

“While you are booking your flight, I will go track down Casey,” I said. I headed up the stairs to Alejandro's room and heard groaning and grunting from the other side. I couldn't resist the temptation to peek in. They were lying on the bed, stark naked, in a 69 position. Casey was on top, gently pushing his dick in and out of Alejandro's mouth while his ass, his little pucker was staring straight at the door, at me. I saw Alejandro run his fingertips across it, and then trace the outline of his rim. Casey tensed and spasmed, then began to shoot his load. I watched as Alejandro swallowed him, taking every drop. Then Casey moved off of him and stroked him urgently, kissing him affectionately before bringing him off too. It was quite sexy, intimate, and erotic even, especially for 15 year old boys. I closed the door gently, counted to ten, then knocked and went in.

Casey scrambled for cover but Alejandro just lay there smiling at me, his cum splattered all over his chest and Casey's hand. “Good morning!” I said cheerfully.

“It is,” Alejandro said, grinning back at me. Casey blushed and tried to hide.

“Your father is looking for you Casey,” I said. He almost panicked but I stopped him. “Get dressed and go down to see him.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“He has to go back to Chicago. There is apparently a problem with all the heat and he needs to be there,” I told him.

“He's always like this. The force always comes first. He missed my championship baseball game last year because of some stupid emergency. He thinks he's the only one who can save the city,” Casey said petulantly, sounding every bit like a teenager.

“You should be proud of him for that,” I said firmly, bringing him back to the ground.

“I know, but I don't want to go back. I like it here,” he whined. I hated whining.

“I could tell,” I said, staring at Alejandro, who was still lying there sprawled out looking sexy as hell. This boy was going to be a heart breaker. “You do not have to go back. I invited you to stay and your father has said it's alright.”

“Really?” He grinned, a huge grin. He really was cute when he wasn't wearing those dorky clothes, but we had to do something about his bowl haircut. “Thank you so much!”

“It is no problem. Now get dressed and come down and see him,” I ordered. It took an hour to assemble our group. Cody went off to work, JP was flying up to Palo Alto for a faculty meeting, Mike was flying back to Chicago, and I was going to take the boys shopping. We took the limo to the airport, dropping Mike off first, then JP.

“When will you be back?” I asked as we stood next to the plane.

“Tomorrow. It's only for one night,” he said, giving me a dirty look.

“And you will not miss me?” I teased.

“Actually, I will, but we will have to be apart sometimes, so don't make it harder than it is, OK?” he asked. I looked into his eyes and I could see the love and sincerity, but perhaps even more important, I could see the openness.

“I have never seen you like this,” I said. “You are an open book. Those shields of yours, they are down. You could give me no greater present,” I told him.

“You're right Stef. There are a few things I need to talk to you about, but not right now, OK?” I looked at him nervously. “It's nothing about us,” he added, assuaging my insecurities. “Just a few things about me you need to know, things I've only shared with two other people before.”

“I love you so much,” I said, kissing him. “How about if I bring the boys up to see you tomorrow and we fly back together?”

“That sounds great!” he said, grinning. Then he hopped into the plane and he was off.

“So what are we going to do?” Alejandro asked.

“We are going shopping,” I said.

“I do not want to go shopping,” he said, pouting.

“We are not shopping for you,” I said dismissively. “We are shopping for Casey.”

“I don't need anything,” Casey said. “And I don't have any money.”

“You need stuff,” Alejandro said. “You look like a dork.”

“I do not look like a dork!” he objected.

“Yes you do,” I said. “Our first stop is the salon to do something about your hair.”

“What's wrong with my hair?” he demanded.

“It looks like your mother cut it with a salad bowl,” I said. “Did she?”

He glared at us, and then laughed. “Yeah.”

“I will make you a deal. I will take you to get your hair cut, to get you some new clothes, and I will pay for everything. Only you must not argue and you must not bitch.” I looked at him sternly.

“Do not worry, Casey. I can still bitch. Take the deal,” Alejandro said.

“Deal,” Casey said grinning. “My mom is gonna be so pissed off.”

“But you will look great. Especially if you lose some weight,” Alejandro said. “You are fat.”

“He is not fat,” I said, not wanting to ruin Casey’s self-esteem. “I am going to have Cody put you both on a workout schedule. Casey can get slim, and you can grow a muscle, maybe two.”

They piled into the limo and we headed up to the spa. We got the whole treatment there, and it was hilarious to watch them submit patiently to manicures and pedicures. They sure didn't complain when it came to the massage though. It was a great day. Then there was the hair. Raul, my hair dresser, opted for a trendy “skater boy” cut, with the sides buzzed but the top long.

“Is that really me?” Casey said, smiling at the image in the mirror. Raul had worked magic; minimizing the roundness of his face and making him look very trendy.

“It is. And now we have still more work to do.” I dragged them back to the same boutique I'd been to with Alejandro and found Rocky. I was glad he was there. He had such a matter-of-fact and smooth way of dealing with young guys; they just did what he said. I wish I had that skill.

We ate dinner at Spago and Cody met us. “You look hot, Casey,” he said. Casey just beamed at him, unable to control his happiness at getting praise from Cody. For both Alejandro and Casey, Cody had God-like status. It was a busy night for celebrities, so Casey got to meet both Helen Hunt and Tom Cruise. He was on cloud nine. I let them ride home together in the limo, while I went with Cody in my old Porsche.

“You are doing well?” I asked him.

“I love my job, Stef. I have such a blast. It's not even work. I can't even begin to thank you for bringing me here and putting me on the right track,” he said, taking my hand.

“Nonsense. That is what friends do. You have done more for me than you could imagine. Before I met you I was lonely and in a lot of pain, and now I am happy and fulfilled. You had no small role in that.”

He shook his head. “You will always land on top. The only person who can ever really get you down is yourself.”

“That may be. I remember when you and I left Chicago, Max told me that you'd be good for me, and that I would be good for you too.”

He cringed. “He was right.”

“You miss him,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. “I really like him. More than I should. I knew where this would end. I just didn't want it to.”

“Well, you both have your own lives. Maybe you can still be part of his,” I said.

“Marcel would never go for that,” Cody said.

“You may be surprised,” I told him. “You said it yourself. Their relationship has changed. Max is no longer Marcel's bitch. Besides, if Marcel feels anything toward you, it is gratitude.”

“Gratitude? I fucked his boyfriend,” Cody said, laughing.

“I find it so amazing that as perceptive as you are, when it comes to things that directly impact you, you are sometimes blind,” I told him. “If Max had found someone else, perhaps in Chicago, it is possible Marcel would have lost him. You kept them together. He knows it, and he owes you for it.”

He was about to say something else but we were distracted as we pulled up to our house and saw sheriffs' cars next door at Brad's house. I made him stop the car and rushed over, pushing my way through. There, standing next to a sheriff, was Bitty.

“I'm here to get my children,” she said defiantly.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; 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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You know, no one, not even family has a way of surviving when they cross JP... I can't wait to see what happens with this. It maybe long and drawn out or it maybe over rather quickly, but it will be interesting...

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