Kevin's Big Moment - 1. Nick

As Kevin lay still in the arms of his lover, he thought back on the night of fun and mischief he shared with his companion. Burglary wasn't on Kevin’s list of experiences until now, but as he surveyed the empty boxes and the thick paper sheets that were scattered across the room, he realized that he had no regrets.

Having a refined taste for chocolate, Kevin made it clear what he wanted from his suitor the night before. He wanted Godiva Chocolate, and he wanted an unending supply.

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"Kevin, be reasonable," Dubya begged as the limo sped through the Houston suburb at three in the morning.

"I think it's perfectly reasonable to expect you to give me a little chocolate," Kevin snapped, standing his ground. "I'm not the kind of boy you can just take advantage of and not expect to have to give anything in return. You want something from me, and I want something from you. Get me chocolate, and we'll talk about what's next tonight."

With a loud sigh, Dubya instructed his driver to take them across town.

"You know, you drive a hard bargain, Kevin," he said as he sat back, placing his gallon hat delicately on his head. "I like that. So tell me about yourself."

Kevin went on in great detail about his life, telling Dubya about his time in college, and how he had recently moved to Houston and started work as a waiter. He batted his eyes and suggested that Dubya come to the restaurant he worked at, but he added a caution.

"Only come if you plan to leave me a good tip," he barked. "So tell me about yourself."

Kevin watched in bewilderment as Dubya seemed to stammer at first, each sentence starting with a low mumble that grew into a full fledged "Um." Still, as he told his story of fortune, sports and politics, Kevin found himself impressed. It was when Dubya spoke of his family that Kevin started to feel sympathy for the older attractive gentleman. He was terribly unhappy with his wife and twin daughters, and he slowly admitted to Kevin that the reason why went all the way back to the year 2000.

"I was standing toe to toe with the man I was running against," he said somewhat forlornly as he looked out the window. "That’s when I realized the truth. His wavy brown hair and his perfect build caught my eye, and I knew I would never be the same again. I was a new man. A man in love."

"So what happened?" Kevin asked intently, feeling sympathetic toward the man in the Limousine with him.

"I had to think of my career," Dubya said sadly. " I knew I had something important to accomplish. Not just for myself and my family, either, but for the nation. I had a duty that superceded my desires."

"How sad," Kevin said. "So what happens next?"

"You tell me," Dubya said, rolling his window down as the limo pulled up to a shopping center. They were sitting alone in the parking lot, and the Godiva Shop was in view.

"They’re closed," Kevin sighed.

"So, we’ll open them up," Dubya said as his driver opened the door from the outside. Kevin looked on in amazement as Dubya got out of the limo and , accompanied by three men in dark suits, he popped the trunk and took out a large two by four.

"Wait, what are you planning?" Kevin asked, concerned because Dubya’s plan was becoming clear.

"No more regrets for me, Kevin," he said bravely as he held his hand out for Kevin to take. After taking a deep breath and exhaling, the courage Kevin needed came to him, and as he walked side by side with his beau to the front of the Godiva Shop, he picked up a large rock and nodded at the rest of the group.

“You know,” Kevin began as he gazed lovingly at the piece of chocolate he held tenderly between his thumb and forefinger, “some things are almost too beautiful to eat. Take this Coffee Feather Truffle, for instance. It is as fine as anything ever sculpted from marble. It should be sitting on a velvet pillow in some museum or other, not pressed between my two fingers waiting to be a sacrifice to my morning lust.”

He brought the revered piece of candy to his lips and slowly ran his tongue over the smooth outer shell. “Mmm,” he murmured softly as he closed his eyes and let the taste of the fine chocolate permeate his senses.

His lover groaned and Kevin opened his eyes and grinned before popping the gourmet confection into his mouth and consuming it slowly, allowing a small driblet of the coffee filling to spill over onto his bottom lip. With a delicate flick of his tongue, he removed the droplet—then leaned forward and slowly ran his tongue over the groaning man’s parted lips. “Then again, what is more important than morning lust?”

With one eye on a nearly empty golden box, Kevin allowed himself to be kissed, thoroughly and deeply, by the older man. When Dubya paused for breath, Kevin slid his hand along the fine Egyptian cotton sheet toward the box and retrieved the last Cappuccino Truffle. He sighed contentedly. There were some things that were priceless.

Kevin was not one of those things.

“You’d think they would put more of these in the box, wouldn’t you?” It was a rhetorical question, of course, but he could see a look that appeared to indicate deep concentration creasing Dubya’s brow. Clearly the man was considering the question carefully and preparing an unscripted answer.

Kevin smiled sympathetically and patted his lover’s cheek gently. “No, no, I wasn’t actually asking that question. I was more just thinking aloud.”

The look of thought immediately vanished from the man’s face, causing Kevin to admire the serene, almost vacant look that replaced it. It was a powerful man, indeed, who could display such a quick change of face with such ease.

“Though I’m thinking that you could make a special request? An ‘executive order,’ if you will…” He looked up at the leader of the free world from under his long—oh so incredibly long—eyelashes, “…for me?”

Seeing either hesitation or confusion in the other man’s eyes and not wanting to take any chances, Kevin reached for the hat that had fallen off of Dubya’s head as they had indulged in the pleasures of the evening and placed it on his own head, glancing quickly in the mirror that covered the one wall of the hotel room to be sure he set it at a suitably rakish angle. He pushed Dubya onto his back and straddled his hips. “I’d be ever so…grateful…” he leaned down and whispered into Dubya’s ear, “you big, strong, handsome cowboy, you.”

The president looked up at Kevin and shifted, a little uncomfortably. It had started innocently enough, as it always did. This time it was a few hundred dollars worth of chocolate—and the broken window that he would write off as a “Security Expense” (breaking and entering was a breach of security and replacing the window was, therefore, clearly a “Security Expense”). The last time it had been 200 gallons of strawberry Jello and 6 cans of Silly String. Innocent enough to start with. Except it had then become a small oil field and a series of diamond anklets…

He looked at Kevin and wondered what he would be asking for next—the deed to Hershey, Pennsylvania? Wasn’t that where they made all the world’s chocolate?

He smiled at Kevin. “Anything for you,” he said easily. It was always easy to promise the moon and the stars—and the odd oil field or chocolate factory—to a fine young man.

Kevin leaned back and stretched lazily as he finished the last Cappuccino Truffle. No, he had no regrets. But it was the last of the chocolate…

“So, do you have anything important to do today?” he asked as he bounced off of Dubya and off of the bed. “I have to be to work at 10:30 but I get off at 2. If you aren’t doing anything special, you could come by the restaurant and watch me work.” He felt pretty sure he had earned a decent sized tip already, so he didn’t bother to remind him about the tip.

George consulted his PDA. He had a meeting scheduled with the Prime Minister of…he couldn’t quite make out which country it was—he would have to get those reading glasses before long. He squinted a little. Tony Blaine…right, the Prime Minister of Canada. Well, that could be rescheduled. “No, nothing important today.” He got up and started getting dressed.

Kevin kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Good. I’ll make sure you get a good table. Don’t worry about making a reservation—I’m good with the Maitre D.” He had been VERY good with the maitre D last Thursday night.

Dubya stood there for a moment, a slightly confused look on his face. Kevin laughed and walked across the room and removed a pair of pants from the wall sconce. He tossed them to George. “I think your shoes are out in the hall. Think your shirt is with them.” Things had moved rather quickly last night—once the first box of chocolate had been opened.

Kevin went into the bathroom and took a shower. He sang happily to himself, rubbing his hand over his stomach, thinking of all the Godiva chocolate he would be eating. He heard a door open and close, but he just assumed it was Dubya looking for the rest of his clothes and continued picturing boxes and boxes of Hazelnut Praline Raindrops, Coffee Feather Ganaches and Cappuccino Truffles being delivered to his door.

He was a little surprised, therefore, when he stepped out of the shower and found himself face to face with a very familiar looking, extremely attractive guy with curly dark hair and piercing deep blue eyes.

He was also surprised—more than a little—when those eyes flashed and the creamy cheeks darkened and lips that were incredibly kissable parted and hissed, “BITCH!” as a hand slapped him across the face.

Kevin was stunned and looked at the handsome face he had admired the night before. Kevin gave him his meanest look, but the eyes looked deep inside him and hatred started being almost palpable between the two men.
"Ryan Everett, Homeland Security, I don't think we had the pleasure of getting introduced," the man hissed. "And I believe you're Kevin Mc Kinnon, 19 years old, and a waiter at La Tour d'Argent." He pronounced the name with a mock high-class accent. That added to the stress he had put on Kevin's occupation let him know how much contempt his antagonist actually had for him.

"I bet you're another one of these bastards who get inside Dubya's pants before they get at his wallet. And making our job all the more difficult."
He grabbed Kevin's arm and pulled him inside the room. He switched the TV on and flicked channels.
"Here we are!" He cranked the volume up.
"And here is the footage from the video camera. The security company let us know that though no one can be formally identified, the perpetrators fled the scene in a limo that could be linked to some important official. Sandy Cartwright, KWCY news."
"Thank you, Sandy. Now John, the weather's about to…"

Kevin was pale, dripping water and naked. He was recovering from the initial shock and realized how uncomfortable the whole situation was. Ryan turned to him and eyed him from head to toe.
"So the little high-class whore got his chocolates? And now he's gonna ask for a country house, ain't he? Well, let me tell you, moron, this is NOT gonna happen! You can't imagine the trouble I've gone through so this should be the last news report about Dubya indulging another hot stud."
"But you having fun with him and ogling the hot stud the next day is all right!?"
Kevin darted into the bathroom to grab his clothes. He was furious. He had not been treated this badly for a long time and he had vowed never to let anyone push him around like this again.

He put his boxers and his pants on quickly, and came back to the room. He gaped at Ryan who was screwing a muffler at the end of a Glock's barrel.
"So now, Mr. Clean-Up guy is gonna whack his rival and call a crew of ten people to get rid of a corpse and any of the evidence?"
"Ten people? Have you never heard of the word productivity? Two guys will be way enough to help me get you disappear from the face of this planet," Ryan smirked.
Kevin was getting scared. Countless movies depicting cover-ups from government officials had made him paranoid. And any possible escape route was covered by Ryan. He could be shot three times before he reached the doorknob. Keep my cool, gain time, he thought.

"On your knees, horny little bastard, quick!"
"Hey come on, quit screwing around, you're…"
"NOW!"
Slowly Kevin got down on his knees. He could not believe how humiliating it was to have to yield to this thug's orders. He was about to get shot and yet he felt only anger, not fear.
"OK, you've had your fun, Ryan, now put your toy away…" He looked defiantly into his killer's eyes. Displaying a little bravado before meeting his demise was the least he could do.
"Shut up and crawl, lay down, don't make it too tough on ya…"
Saving time, something's gonna happen, saving time, lying down slowly… Kevin no longer thought, his reptilian brain had taken over and he blanked out.

He felt Ryan crouching beside him, and the muffler was put to hi ear.
"Last words you'd like to tell your mama, lover boy?" Ryan sniggered.
"S… See you in Hell!" Kevin heard himself reply, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth.
"Ha! Ha! Mr. Tough Guy! That's a good one!"
Ryan was no longer by his side; he had stood up and was moving around the room. Kevin opened his eyes and looked up. The gun was back in its holster and Ryan seemed very amused by the mean joke he had just played on him. He jumped to his feet and the laughter got even more boisterous.
"Mr. Tough Guy! He wet his pants!"

Kevin looked down. The goon was right. He started yelling at Ryan, venting out his fear and the awful tension he'd had been submitted to.
"Quiet!" Ryan ordered. Kevin fell silent. "Now you gonna up and leave, little fucker. And if I ever see you again anywhere too close to Dubya, this baby will see to it it's really the last time," he said as he patted his holster through his jacket. Kevin grabbed the remnant of his clothing and left the room, quickly putting on a tee-shirt and using his sweater to cover the spot in front of his pants. He finished dressing in the elevator, and as he finished lacing his shoes with twenty-two more floors to go before to hit ground-level, he felt a tear rolling down his cheek.

He barely made it in time to the restaurant. He had managed to go home and get clean clothes, and he was able to put on a decent face as he entered the lounge.
"Hi, Kevin, a rough night, hey?" the Maître D asked playfully.
"Yeah, you may say so…"
Kevin got busy doing the morning routine, but he kept feeling hatred and a desire for revenge building up inside him.
Two hours later, he had taken the orders for three tables when some commotion was heard in the entrance hall. Of course, when George came to visit a restaurant unannounced, it usually created some tumult.