High Society

‘Oh… why not? Are you not feeling well?’



Noah smiled and sat back on the couch, then signed back to Casey. ‘No, I’m ok. Just tired and not in the mood to take on the cold.’



‘I suppose it’s pretty bad out, yes. I might not stay out very long; it’d just be good to grab a cup of coffee, then take a trip to the sweets shop. I need cigs, too,’ Casey replied.



‘Ok. It’d be nice to just stay in by the fire, play a game, whatever else,’ Noah said.



‘All right. I’ll come back around lunchtime, then.’



“Zeke, Casey? Go on ahead,” Stephen called.



Casey bid Noah goodbye and went to the door. Tightening his scarf, he smiled at his companion. “What’re your plans?” he asked.



“Henry was talking about the movies. ‘Might go for that,” Zeke replied. “You think you might come along?”



“Well… probably not. I’m just in the mood for a little shopping, a coffee--then I’ll probably come back. It’s bitter cold outside,” he said.



Zeke shrugged and the two of them made their exit. The chill in the air instantly bit at Casey’s face, causing him to wince and tuck his chin and lips under his scarf. “See? Pretty terrible,” Casey said.



“It’ll be warm in the theater, though…?”



Casey smiled and dropped his eyes to the sidewalk. Since that past Friday, they hadn’t spoken of their kiss, but there’d been noticeable changes in their demeanor. Zeke seemed more open and accessible in the smallest of ways; when Casey stood at the bar with him last night, Zeke hadn’t acted aloof and bored. When Casey realized how close they’d been--his arm brushing his while whispering about how terrible a few of them men looked--Casey backed off a little. They didn’t need to ‘show off’. Still, at this very moment, their arms were brushing together again while they walked. “No. I already told Noah I’d be back by lunchtime,” Casey finally replied.



“Oh. All right,” Zeke replied with barely-hidden disappointment.



“Anyways… we know what happens in a movie theater. In the dark,” Casey said. Feeling mischievous, he looked up to Zeke with a quirky grin. “And I think we broke enough rules on Friday.”



Zeke pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Casey sighed. “’Still haven’t talked about that,” Casey said.



“I don’t think we need to,” Zeke replied. He went to light a cigarette, but his hand shook against the cold--never mind the wind that was whipping around them, snuffing out the lighter’s flame.



“Here,” Casey said. He stood in front of Zeke and curled in close, cupping the cigarette with his hands. With Zeke leaning down, the cigarette in his lips, their foreheads met. The closeness made Casey sniff hard as Zeke attempted to flick his lighter; his fingers kept slipping, however. “That cold already, huh?” Casey asked.



“No. Not that,” Zeke said. “Just… my hands aren’t… good… today.”



“How so… oh,” Casey said, realizing what Zeke meant. He now took notice of how jerky the movements were, and how it didn’t look like shivering. Sighing again, he took the lighter. “Let me.”



Zeke relented with a nod and put his hands up with Casey’s to provide more cover. His fingers grazed Casey’s wrists, making a shiver run through Casey’s body--again, it wasn’t from the chilly air. The cigarette lit ,they parted. Casey coughed into his hand and looked up. “Well, if you’re going to meet the others, go on ahead. I just wanted to drop into some shops for smokes, candy and coffee.”



“You have such a fucking chocolate fetish,” Zeke teased.



“Hmm, amongst other things,” Casey replied. He gave a sly grin to the boy, who sighed and shrugged.



“Okay. No meeting up with whorehouse-boyfriends,” Zeke said. Casey gave his arm a light punch.



“Shut up,” he said.





~*~





Getting to sit by himself to think was lovely; with the cigarettes bought and candy bags stuffed into his bag, Casey sat at a table in ‘Cuppa’, a café on Fifth Avenue. It was a classy place, and very ‘artsy’, the walls covered with amateur artwork. This place must’ve been like the one Zeke had gone to years before, where he’d sold his art; perhaps Casey could do the same. It inspired him enough to take out his sketchbook and pencils to work on the picture of his mother. It was coming out better than he’d expected. He managed to capture the woman as if he’d taken a photograph instead of drawing her.



The coffee was exquisite, as well. It was a shame that Zeke hadn’t joined him. ‘Noir and Blanc’ was a nice place with good drinks, but in Casey’s opinion, this place was much better. He took up his steaming mug and sipped, pushing the cold of his body away. It would pay off when he’d take the walk home--perhaps he could get another one as takeout.



“That’s a beautiful picture.”



The voice to his right made Casey look up. A short, stout man wearing a thick coat and bowler hat stood there, sipping his own beverage and smiling down at the table where Casey’s drawing sat. “Oh… thank you,” Casey replied.



“You’re welcome,” he said. He stayed next to Casey’s table and looked around the busy, bustling shop then nodded to the empty chair across from Casey. “I’m sorry to intrude, but… is anyone sitting here?”



“Oh, no. Why?”



“Well, would you mind me sitting with you? All the tables are full, and I have no desire whatsoever to head back outside just yet.”



Casey shrugged. “No, go ahead, that’s fine.”



The man smiled and sat down with a small groan. “It’s so bitter out there today. I can’t wait for summer,” he said.



“I know, me neither.” Casey smiled then went back to drawing.



“Mmm.” The man looked back to Casey’s work. “Really, you’re good. A talented artist is hard to come across nowadays.”



“Hah--there looks to be many pictures here on the walls,” Casey replied.



“Most of them are pretty substandard, however. I mean…” the man pointed to a piece next to their table, which showed a strange mix of colorful boxes. “Would you honestly pay… egads, five dollars, for this?”



“Maybe not. But we all have our tastes,” Casey said.



“Hmm… go on, let me have a look at your sketchbook,” the man said with his hand out. When Casey paused, he smiled wider. “I know the people here. They might be interested in letting you sell your wares.”



“Oh… all right,” Casey said. He gave the man his book, took up his coffee and sat back. To be honest, he was enjoying the compliments, even if the man had intruded on his late-morning, quiet relaxation. He watched as the man flipped through pages, raising his eyebrows and nodding in approval.



“Yes, very good. You captured an apple so well, I feel I could reach into the page, take it out and eat it.”



“Hah, thank you.”



“Quite welcome, again.” He opened the book back to Casey’s mother and handed it back.



When Casey took it, he noticed that the man was looking at him with a strange fondness. Discomfort edged its way into Casey’s mind. “So, yea--I don’t know if I’m ready to sell my work. Not yet, anyway.”



“Oh, but you should. Some people here make good money, even with the hard times going on,” the man said. He looked to Casey’s near-empty cup. “Do you need another?”



“What, coffee?” Casey asked. When the man nodded, he blinked wildly; was he offering to buy him one? That seemed too strange. “No. I think I’m fine. I’ll be getting another for my way home.”



“Oh, you live close by?”



“Um…” This was REALLY getting strange. “Yes. A few blocks away.”



“Ah,” the man said. “It’s so cold, though. Perhaps I could give you a ride.”



Okay… enough. Casey was starting to read his intentions. “Well, no. But thank you,” he said. Taking a look to the clock, he mocked surprise and said, “Oh, I should be going. I’ll be late for lunch and my… mother would be disappointed if I miss it. She’s making my favorite today.”



“Okay, then. It was nice to meet you, um…?”



Casey took a breath and took the man’s extended hand. The grip was light, and he swore he felt one of the man’s fingertips curl in to move against his palm. “Sam,” he replied, thinking of how he would’ve loved to have the trusted bodyguard with him at the moment.



“A sweet name for a sweet boy. Ike.”



It was hard not to snatch his hand back in shock and surprise. Casey let it drop to his side and he fought for a reply. “Nice… to meet you,” he said. His legs were stiff and tense as he grabbed up his things, bundled himself up, turned away and weaved through the rows of tables to the door. He didn’t bother with buying another drink as all he wanted to do was get out of the shop and speed his way home.



Now outside, he paused to let go of the breath he’d held and light a cigarette. His nerves were frayed from the chance encounter; he figured that Zeke had to have been young and naïve--desperate, to fall for that man’s ploy. Even if Casey hadn’t lucked in finding Stephen, he would’ve taken a dirty alleyway over that scheming scumbag. After regaining his senses, he set off down the road. When he reached the corner, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, his skin suddenly prickling. It made him take a tiny, quick look over his shoulder; he turned back fast. Ike had apparently thought it right to leave as well, only he wasn’t heading to any of the cars that lined the side of the street. And no matter his casual strides, he was staring straight at Casey.



Panic was building up; if Casey read this situation well enough, the man intended on following him home. Casey certainly couldn’t lead him there, but he had no other place to go. He could stop in a shop--no, that would only stall things. It was likely that Ike would wait outside for him. Casey crossed the road at the pedestrian light and sped off down the street.



‘Maybe… he’s not following me,’ he thought. He needed proof however; he decided to stop at a shoe shop’s storefront and pretend to window-shop. If Ike stopped, or dared to approach him again, Casey would try his best to run home--even if it meant that he’d lead the man to his ‘nest’, one of the bodyguards could step out to scare the man away.



Glancing back--there he was, stopped at the next shop over. He was apparently waiting for Casey, though for what… Casey shivered and stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets before setting off again. He didn’t bother checking to see if Ike was there until the next corner… ‘Go away, go away!’ he yelled at Ike--who was still on his tail--in his mind. He was only three blocks from home, but he realized that a police station was on the way. It would be a dramatic move, but it was certain to drive Ike away if he saw Casey walking into the building. He reached the next corner, only to run straight into Henry. “Oh!” Casey exclaimed.



“Oh hey, Casey,” Henry said. “Heading back home, too? Yea, we’re making it an early day, as well. Too damned cold, and nothing good’s playing…”



Casey breathed quick and looked back; once again, Ike had stopped to lean on a sign, lighting a cigarette and staring straight at him. Suddenly, Casey remembered who’d planned on spending the day with Henry. “Where’s Zeke?” he asked.



“He stopped a few places down for a coffee. Why?”



“I… I’m being followed,” Casey said.



“Huh? By who?”



“Some… guy,” Casey said. “He had eyes on me, but… we need to go home. Now.”



Henry’s expression turned serious; he looked down the road and scanned the people walking around. “Where? Point him out.”



“No, no. No. Let’s just go home and--” he stopped dead, seeing Zeke coming towards them, sipping a coffee. He then grabbed Henry’s arm and turned them towards Zeke to head down the side road. “This way.”



“Hey, Casey,” Zeke said. He then frowned at the boy’s panicked expression. “What’s… going on?”



“Some pervert is following him,” Henry blurted before Casey could answer.



“What?” Zeke said. His eyes narrowed and he went to pass them. “Where is he?”



“No, Zeke, no,” Casey said. “He’s probably not--he saw me with Henry, so he’s probably…”



Zeke turned to him and was saying something, but whatever it was, Casey didn’t know. All he could do was widen his eyes as he looked past Zeke to see Ike sauntering over to look down the road. Casey tried to keep his expression calm, not wanting Zeke to turn around. When Ike saw the group Casey was with, he turned back around and left.



“Casey--show me where he is,” Zeke said.



“No. He’s gone. He just looked down the road and left. He knows I’m with you two and--” Casey went to say, but Zeke turned back around on his heels and went double-time back to the corner. He was scanning the crowds; Casey got in front of him and shook his head briskly. “He’s GONE, don’t--”



“What did he look like?”



Frustrated, Casey couldn’t hold back. If Zeke tried pursing the man… “It was Ike,” he hissed. Zeke dropped his widened eyes to look at the boy, obviously stunned. Casey cast a look to Henry, who hadn’t overheard what he’d said but still looked confused. Casey looked back and darted his eyes around. He saw no sign of the man. “Leave it. He won’t come back, I don’t even see him.”



“I’ll fuckin’ find him,” Zeke said, then pushed past Casey to rush through the crowds of people.



Panicking, Casey sped after him. “Zeke! Stop!” he called. When he finally caught up to him, he grabbed at Zeke’s arm but was shrugged off. He grabbed again, holding on tight this time. “Stop it, now. He’s gone.”



“I know where he lives, if it comes down to that.”



“NO!” Casey outright screamed. He didn’t care if people paused to look at them with wary eyes. It managed to stop Zeke, which was good enough for him. Now in front of Zeke, he put on a hard expression. “Let. It. Go.”



Though Zeke still looked angry, he didn’t look like he was going to make a move to keep seeking Ike out. Casey dropped his eyes to Zeke’s hands; his fingers on both of them were twitching, hard and fast. He wanted nothing more than to take them up and kiss the shakes away, but not here, in public. Instead, he put a reassuring hand on his arm and squeezed. “Please. Let’s go home,” Casey said. “T-Take me home.”



Zeke must have heard his sad desperation in his voice, for he put a hand, which still trembled, on Casey’s shoulder and led them back to Henry, who looked at them with questioning eyes but said nothing. They all walked in silence together; Zeke’s grip trembling less and less with every step, though he still looked nerved-up and serious.





~*~





Casey hadn’t wanted to tell Stephen, but he knew it was the right thing to do. He had Henry and Zeke there to back him up, and even if they hadn’t seen anything first-hand, Stephen didn’t need any extra proof. After they’d said their piece, Stephen brought Casey into his office.



“From now on, I want you boys to stick together, in groups of two or more. No more going off alone, even during the day,” Stephen said when Casey was finished with his account of events. “You need to stay safe; going off on your own last week already proved to be disastrous. I should’ve enforced this rule earlier.”



Casey nodded and dropped his eyes. “All right,” he said.



Stephen took a deep breath and let it out; he leaned over his desk to ask, “Are you all right? Something like this can be quite a scare.”



“Yes. I’ll be fine,” Casey replied, though he really was still shaken. His voice showed it through a tiny tremble, and Stephen caught it.



“You’re safe here, Casey. He didn’t follow you here, and I have to say; you were very smart to think about going to the police station. That would have driven the man off in an instant,” Stephen said, then made a weak smile. “As long as you didn’t bring THEM home.”



Casey chuckled a little. “No, I know.” He felt his mood grow serious again; there was another detail Stephen should know. “I… I didn’t want to say it in front of the others, but… I know who it was.”



“The man?” Stephen asked. When Casey nodded, Stephen sat straighter. “How did you know him?”



“I didn’t ever meet him before today, no… but… Zeke did,” Casey said, his words halting. “It was Ike.”



Stephen blinked furiously then sat back in his chair. “Zeke told you.”



“Yes.”



For a few moments, all Stephen could do was rub his forehead, looking to be in deep thought. He finally cleared his throat and sniffed. “That… ‘man’, if you can even call him that. He’s a disgusting, terrible creature,” Stephen said. “What he did to Zeke--and who knows who else, it’s just… revolting.”



“I saw through him a few minutes into his sitting down. I could tell,” Casey said.



“Good. I can’t imagine how many boys that man’s caught in his web,” Stephen said. He looked up and stared Casey’s way. “I can assure you; even if he found out where you live, he wouldn’t have be able to get near you. I know what this man looks like, where he lives, even though Zeke didn’t tell me anything past his first name.”



“How?”



“I have my ways.”



Casey didn’t doubt what those ‘ways’ were. The men he’d seen talking with Stephen those few times probably had something to do with it; the mafia was well-known for protecting their turf, and Casey was surely on that list. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or intimidated. He forced himself to feel the former to convince himself that he was okay… safe. “Well… it’s over now,” Casey replied. “And I’m okay. A bit shaken-up, but fine.”



“All right. Maybe I’ll bring Zeke in for a chat, as well. He may need someone to talk to,” Stephen said.



“Oh… all right.” This made Casey feel apprehensive, but he couldn’t lie to Zeke about having told Stephen the details. Honesty, after all.



“Go on, now. Try to relax. Robert is here early, and has been trying to concoct new drinks with Noah as his guinea pig,” Stephen said with a growing grin. “And that poor boy doesn’t have any sort of tolerance.”





~*~





It hadn’t been long after the rest of the boys had gotten home when Casey’s encounter had reached every ear, everyone getting most of the details from Henry, the most willing to speak. He was still going on and on, dwelling on a small handful of details…



“…He just charged after the guy, I’m serious,” he was telling the whole dinner table over his plate of half-eaten rice and chicken. “It was like when Oscar had to storm into the fuck-room and get Jose untangled from the guy who hadn’t paid for him.”



“Zeke the bodyguard! What a hero,” Danny said, giggling.



“Yea, how about we stop talking about this…?” Zeke said. He groaned and picked at his rice in an absent way.



“But c’mon, really--what a thing that must’ve been to see,” Jamie said. “You, all protective and ready to throttle someone who’d perved on poor, sweet Casey…”



“All right, guys. Enough. If you haven’t noticed, I’m sitting right here. And what happened WAS really spooky,” Casey said, trying his best to keep himself from sounding annoyed. He wasn’t, really; the boys were just having a little fun, but he’d grown tired of it. The chatter died down; Jamie smiled warmly and sighed.



“Well, we’re glad that you’re all right. We just want to show Zeke our appreciation for being a ‘knight in shining armor’.”



“Yes, well…”



“You shoulda let Zeke nab ‘im, then found the rest of us so we could watch him pound the jerk’s face in the pavement,” Danny said through a mouthful of bread.



“Danny…” Casey said.



“Zeke, pass the gravy boat, will ya?” James asked, waving his hand towards it.



Zeke took it up and went to pass it across the table. His hand shook then suddenly jerked however, causing it to tip. “Whoa!” James said; he snatched it before it fell from Zeke’s grasp and splash over the tablecloth.



“Sorry,” Zeke said.



“It’s okay,” James replied.



“So, um… what shall we do tonight?” Casey asked, wanting to shift attention away from Zeke, his hand, their eventful day….



“Hmm… I vote for a bottle of wine in the parlor, some games…” Henry said.



“Yea. Somethin’ simple,” Danny said. “We need the fireplace roaring, too. My bones are still frozen.”



Glad for the new topic of discussion, Casey finished his meal and looked down at the end of the table where Zeke sat. It was easy to see the sad insecurity in his face, how his eyes were cast down at his barely-touched meal. When everyone got up to head to the parlor, Casey noticed how he lagged behind. Before Casey could approach him, Noah was at his side, signing about playing pool. Casey smiled and replied that they could play in teams--him and Noah against two others, all while glancing at Zeke over his shoulder. His eyes were still cast downwards, his hands in his pockets.



When they reached the front hall, Danny had already climbed behind the bar to bring out a bottle of red wine. “Theeere we go,” he said in a drawling voice.



Before following Noah to the pool table, Casey stopped, turned to Zeke and smiled. “C’mon. Find a partner and play against me and Noah,” he said.



“Huh?” Zeke said. With a frown, he shook his head. “No thanks.”



“Why not?”



“Cos’ my hands are fuckin’ useless, that’s why. I don’t feel like missing out on a week’s pay to replace the table’s felt,” Zeke sharply replied.



Perhaps Casey should have thought better of it--of course Zeke wasn’t in the best shape today, and he’d known it. Still, he didn’t like the attitude Zeke gave him. He’d grown used to him being nicer, even if it’d been only a few days. “Yea, okay,” Casey replied. He went to join Noah when Zeke reached over and took his arm.



“Look. Sorry. I am… I didn’t mean to sound like a jackass,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m just really goddamned self-conscious right now.”



“All right,” Casey said. “And yea… sorry for asking, too. Shoulda known better.”



“Whatever. It’s okay,” Zeke replied. He nodded to the sitting area and shrugged. “I’m just gonna relax. Have fun.”



Casey nodded slowly as Zeke sauntered over to the large couch and laid down upon it, his back to the group. Casey crossed his arms and went over to the tables; along the way, he wasn’t in the mood to play anymore.



‘Hey,’ he told Noah, who was chalking up his cue. ‘I think that… Zeke needs someone right now.’



Noah looked over to where Zeke was, nodded slowly and smiled. ‘That’s ok. Henry and Jamie are on the other team, and James was interested in playing. I’ll ask him to be my partner.’



Leave it to the incredibly sweet boy to understand. Casey left him with a ‘thanks!’ and went back to the couches. He sat down by Zeke’s feet, causing the young man to give him a frown. “’Thought you were playing…?”



“Changed my mind.”



“Why, cos’ you think I’m sulking? I’m not, honestly.”



“No. I just… I dunno. Didn’t feel like playing, and James did, so…” Casey sank back against the couch; he saw Zeke’s amused expression and blinked. “What?”



“You’d wanted to play; you just wanna bother me more,” Zeke said.



Did he have to just--know Casey’s every last intention? “Okay, fine. I wanted to bother you,” Casey admitted. “Happy?”



“That you wanna bother me?” Zeke asked with a smirk. He shrugged slowly and patted his stomach. Before Casey could answer, he saw Zeke’s fingers start to tremble hard. Zeke, of course noticed as well; he made a fist, but that shook also. “Damn it. This shit’s annoying…”



Casey sighed. “Gimmee it.”



“What?”



“Your hand, doofus.”



Cocking an eyebrow, Zeke put his hand out to let Casey take it in both of his. There’d been many times when Casey’s mother had been on her feet all day--on the farm, in the kitchen, walking into town to get groceries--and she’d pay for it with aches and pains. Casey, being a dutiful son, had always indulged her with foot-rubs and toes squeezes. He was just that type. Perhaps hands were different, but he felt he could still help.



Zeke snarled his lip and grunted at the first hard squeeze over his palm, which turned into a slow rub going down to his fingertips. Casey pressed his fingers in with every inch he traveled, emulating a pulse. He found himself staring; though Zeke had grabbed him or passed him many dinner items over the table in the past, Casey had never actually looked at his hands like this. It was easy to see how the bones just weren’t right; they weren’t horribly disfigured or disjointed, but his knuckles seemed larger than most, and there was a slight crooked nature to them. His middle and ring-finger were set apart, making a small V, unable to be put together and STAY there. The most noticeable details, however, were the lines of scars that went across his fingers in an even, straight line.



“Pretty ugly, huh?”



Casey looked up at Zeke and frowned. “No.”



“Yea, they are,” Zeke said with a sigh.



“Stop it,” Casey said. At his next rub and squeeze, Zeke grunted again. “Does that hurt?”



“No. ‘Feels good.”



“Hey, I don’t see a drink in your hands…?”



Both boys looked up to find Danny, who was holding the wine bottle under his arm, a full glass in one hand and two empty ones in the other. Casey smiled. “Pour away, then.”



“Oh sure, I’ll just play bartender,” Danny said, but put everything down on the table and served wine anyway. Once through, he sat down on the floor by them, took up his drink and sipped. “What goes on here, eh?”



“Hand massage. Ain’t it obvious?” Casey boldly replied.



“Sounds kinky.”



“Fuck’s sake,” Zeke said. He gave Danny a look and small smile. “He’s good at it. He can do this all fuckin’ day, for all I care.”



“Oh yea?” Danny said. He then made a wicked grin, lifted his shirt up and threw it off. “Are ya any good at shoulders?”



“Yup,” Casey said. He continued on with Zeke, however, smirking.



“Please?” Danny said. “C’mon.”



“Geez, in a minute. I haven’t even gotten to Zeke’s other hand yet--”



“I ain’t sharing,” Zeke interrupted to say. “Suck it, Danny.”



“I would, if it wasn’t against house rules,” Danny coyly replied with a waggle of his eyebrows.



The night wore on; Casey took pleasure in giving Zeke pleasure, the small moans and flinches making it obvious that Zeke was relishing the attention. Every now and again, Casey would look towards the pool table where Noah and James were playing against Jamie and Henry. Apparently, the latter team was ahead, judging by the high-fives James kept giving Noah. At one point, Casey’s heart fluttered when Noah signed something, very slowly, with James looking on with curious eyes. When Noah pointed to James, the young man smiled and said, “My name? Neat, lemmee…” then tried signing the letters himself.



“When is it my tuuurn??” Danny whined, actually banging his heels into the floor like an impatient four-year old. “You’ve been working on that bastard’s hands so long, you’re rubbing them off!”



“Jesus, fine…” Casey said. When he let Zeke’s hand fall, Zeke outright growled and grabbed at Casey’s wrists.



“Ignore him. Me.”



“Shut up, you! My! Turn!”



“Yes!!” James’ voice cried from the pool area. Casey looked up just in time to see Noah sink the eight-ball, then stand straight with his arms out. James approached him and slung his arm across Noah’s shoulders. Another high-five was shared while Jamie and Henry shook their heads, smiled and ventured over to where the others were.



“Hey… just letting’ ya know, those two are sharks. We didn’t bet money, thank god…” Henry said while lighting a cigarette and sitting next to Danny. He gave the boy an odd look. “What, are we getting naked?”



“No. Casey’s gonna give me a shoulder-massage, if that greedy fuck over there will stop hogging him.”



“Oh, neat. I want one, too,” Henry said; he too removed his shirt and sat in wait.



“Okay, this is getting outta hand,” Casey said with a giggle. He tried tugging his hands away from Zeke, who held on tight. “Lemmee go, I want wine!”



“Hey guys--game-time,” James announced as he and Noah arrived. Casey grabbed up his glass, sipped and gave them a look edgewise.



“What, more pool? Thanks, but no thanks,” Jamie replied.



“No, no. How about charades?”



Everyone hummed with interest. “Hmm--could be fun,” Henry said.



“And it’s one Noah can play. Casey, ask if he wants to play,” James asked.



Zeke reluctantly let Casey’s hands so he could sign, ‘Charades, wanna play?’ Noah’s reply made him laugh.



“What’d he say?” Danny asked.



“That he’s a ‘Charades Expert’,” Casey said. He took another sip, a larger one this time; god, it was good.



“Why not? He kicks our asses in everything else…” Danny said with a sly smile. “Okay, okay, so… let’s make this interesting. Not just charades, but we have to do the johns--have everyone guess who we’re miming.”



“Ooh,” James said. “I like that! Yes, let’s take the piss, shall we?”



It was a small, devilish delight for them--a time to vent about those that they had to smile at when they really wanted to cringe. Everyone settled in together, sitting against each other and coming close to cuddling.



“Okay, me first!” Jamie said. He hopped to the open space between the couches, cleared his throat then went into deep thought. A smile flashed over his lips and he began to move.



Casey studied the strange face Jamie made, which including a wide open-mouthed smile, droopy eyes and a flinching nose. He then mimed picking at it, looked at his finger then sucked it.



“Oh GOD, Yuri!” Danny yelled with hilarity.



Jamie pointed at him and chuckled heartily, along with everyone else. Casey was confused, however. “Who’s Yuri?” he asked. Realizing that his glass was empty, he frowned. “More wine,” he said, then began pouring away.



“Lush,” Danny remarked after slugging back the rest of his glass.



“Yuri--oh, he used to come about a year ago. Hasn’t been here in a while--Russian guy, couldn’t speak English. About two feet tall, smelled like violets and ate his own bogies,” James explained. “I’d gag when I’d see him do that.”



“I needed that laugh. Good grief,” Danny said. “Okay, my go!”



Everyone watched Danny leap to his feet. He immediately started his ‘routine’, involving flouncing arms and shrugs, his face wearing a dreamy expression. When he turned to wiggle his behind and pat it with both hands, Noah grunted loudly and jabbed his hand in the air. He turned to Casey and signed frantically; Casey laughed.



“Noah guesses Tommy!” he called.



“HAH!” Danny said. He pointed at Noah and gave him a thumbs-up. “Good guess, my friend!”



More giggles and comments (“His beautiful, BEAUTIFUL ass!” James crowed,) then Noah stood up. He furrowed his brow and rubbed his chin in thought, then held up a finger and smiled. The room fell silent as he began.



Casey frowned, trying to interpret Noah’s movements; it was a little difficult as he’d started feeling a rush from the wine, so thinking of anything was a task. Judging by everyone else’s glasses going empty and refilled, he wasn’t the only one.



Noah was blank-faced, looking bored as he crossed his arms and mocked a yawn. Everyone exchanged glances; so far, Noah wasn’t good at charades at all. He looked to James and gave a tiny nod, then rolled his eyes. He next glanced to Danny, made another yawn and waved his hand dismissively at him. “Hah, what’d I do?” Danny said, but kept watching with the others. Noah now set his eyes on Zeke and he sniffed derisively, wearing a tiny glare.



“The hell…?” Zeke said.



The confusion had peaked, but before anyone became restless, Noah rested his eyes on Casey. The blasé look on his face exploded into one of joy, and he jumped at him. Casey cried out in surprise as Noah grabbed his wrists, pulled him to his feet and dragged him over to the entrance. With his arm clenched tight over Casey’s shoulder and over his chest, showing extreme possessiveness, everyone bellowed with laughter as he mimed talking to someone else, his hand going into his pocket to drag out ‘money’ to throw at, one could only assume, Stephen.



“Fuckin’ Cal, it’s fuckin’ CAL!” Henry whooped.



“Shite! That’s brilliant!” James yelled through tears of laughter.



Casey was choking on his own laughs, pulling on Noah’s arm. ‘They got it, they got it!’ he told him. Noah grinned like the devil, turned to the group and made a thumbs-up.



“That was the best, the absolute best,” Henry said. “Hoo, boy…”



Noah was welcomed back into the group as Henry stood up. Hands fell on his shoulders and shook him playfully. Casey settled back on the couch next to Zeke and gave him a Cheshire-Cat grin. “It’s that obvious, ain’t it?”



“Pfft,” Zeke said. His eyebrow rose and he shook his head while wearing a small smile. “Did ya see the way he glared at me?”



Casey sucked in his lips and looked to the ceiling. “Mmhmm.”



“It’s that obvious.” Zeke now looked to Henry and narrowed his eyes. “Oh, Christ. Abe.”



Henry stopped making his simpering-expression, complete with shaking and pressing ‘glasses’ up his nose, then chuckled. “Hah! Your turn!”



“Why me?” Zeke asked.



“Cos’ you guessed first, idiot,” Henry said.



Defeated, Zeke groaned to a stand and took the floor. Instead of pulling a face or moving around, he raised his hand to make the shape of a gun, then put his extended finger in his mouth and mimed sucking.



“Pish, Brucie-boy. Easy,” Jamie said, then groaned. “Oh shit, I have to go again?”



Everyone chuckled as Zeke sauntered back to the couch. He grabbed up his glass, sipped and shrugged. “That was easy,” he said. Casey smiled and settled himself against the young man to relax. His head was starting to swim in a very warm, pleasant way…



“Okay, no fucking idea,” Henry said to Jamie’s next act.



“C’mon, it’s easy!” Jamie said.



Casey looked over at the boy and squinted; like Henry, he was clueless. All Jamie was doing was swiping his hands over his legs, over and over again. Everyone was shaking their heads and giving Jamie looks. “Come ON, always spilling shit, came all over his pants…” Jamie said. Finally, the boy groaned and held up his arms. “John!”



“Ugh, which one?” Henry, Danny and James said in unison. This made Casey explode with high-pitched giggles… which made everyone ELSE turn to him with wide-eyed looks.



“Wh-What?” Casey said, voice tittering.



“That’s… the weirdest laugh I’ve ever heard,” Henry said.



“I ALWAYS laugh like this!”



“Uh… no. You don’t.” Zeke shook his head slowly.



“He’s lit,” Danny said.



“Am not!” Casey cried, but when he tried moving up from Zeke’s chest, his head spun a little and he had to lie back down in a heap, causing Zeke to grunt.



“Ow, geez…” Zeke said, shifting around. Casey jostled with him and he giggled more. “STOP that, it’s weird!” Zeke said.



“Shut up. I’m having fun,” Casey replied. The giggles died down anyway and a dreamy smile came over his face. “Hey, I haven’t had a turn yet.”



“Like we’d be able to guess…” Henry said; he had to stop and belch before continuing. “…Who you were being.”



“Anyway, you didn’t guess,” Jamie said.



“NO one did. You’re lousy at this game,” James told him.



Jamie rolled his eyes and returned to the group; no one rose to take a turn, everyone seemingly too tired and riding a pleasant wine-buzz. Soft, pleased hums filled the air as they cuddled together. While Casey hadn’t felt self-conscious in lying on Zeke, he still felt better that they weren’t gaining any attention; especially since the rest of them were curled up against each other. Even Noah, with James, making a few letters of the alphabet to show him. It was then that Casey felt fingers in his hair, pulling at the strands. His chest filled with warmth and he smiled. “Playin’ wiff my hair?” he asked Zeke.



“Just getting the bugs.”



“Ew, Casey has lice!” Danny said, laughing aloud.



“I do not! Zeke just likes my hair,” he said.



“Remember when we had to kick that guy out cos’ he had lice?” Jamie asked. A round of chokes, gags and chuckles rang through the group. “Oh, that was so gross. The greased-up hair and slimy ears…”



“Okay, stop. Stop it,” Henry said.



Casey pulled out his cigarettes and lit one; after taking a puff, he sighed. “I had lice once.”



“Oh, ew,” Zeke grunted and squirmed.



“Please, don’t have it NOW.” Casey smirked and shook his head. “I went to the doc, cos’ I was so itchy. He gave me this really smelly shampoo and cream. I had to sneak into an apartment building’s yard to use their water pump, but it did the job.”



“Eh, it happens when you’re on the streets. Or in cruddy flats,” James said.



“Flats?” Casey inquired.



“He means ‘apartments’. Speak English,” Danny said, nudging James.



“Riiight. Anyway, yea… the bedbugs, oh good, bloody fuck…” James visibly shivered. “I’d turned into one big welt after the worst infestation at my old place.”



“Why are we talking about this…?” Zeke asked.



“Because, it’s how we lived. Or most of us, anyway,” James replied. “It makes you really, really appreciate being here… even if we have to put up with the men.”



More hums of agreement came from them all. Casey shifted on his side, all to put an arm over Zeke’s body and couch. Zeke allowed it, opening his legs wider to accommodate Casey’s slight frame. It was easier to feel the young man’s cock, which pressed against Casey’s hip. Only half-hard, but it felt simply wonderful. Casey closed his eyes and let himself drift off, no longer concerned with the quiet conversation going on.





~*~





Casey’s eyes opened in a flash, panic filling his every pore. Either it was storming outside, with thunderbolts hitting the roof, or a few hundred bombs were going off in the building.



“UP! UP! UP! UP!”



What was going on??



“Oh my god…!” he heard Zeke yell. Looking over at him, Casey saw that he was shoving his pillows over his head.



More booming noises filled the air--Casey realized they were metal clangs.



“RISE AND SHINE, BOYS!”



Stephen. Casey went to sit up and get his feet to the floor to run out and stop him, but a sudden whoosh slammed into his brain--a very achy, sore brain that yelled at him to lie back down before he vomited everywhere. “Oh… oh fuck…” Casey groaned the words and he flopped back down.



“BREAKFAST TIME! LOTS OF BUTTERY TOAST AND EGGS AND BACON!”… Clang, Clang, Clang!



“Stop! Just STOP!” Zeke bellowed.



“Don’t yell, ow!” Casey said. He looked towards the opened bedroom door and saw Danny rushing by, his hand over his mouth and eyes wide.



“There you go, Danny, good job!” Stephen yelled, then he started laughing.



“Fuckin’ masochist!” Zeke called.



Stephen appeared in their doorway, a pot lid in each hand, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised. “Oh, what, Mr. Tyler?” he said. “How much wine DID we drink last night? Judging by the empty bottles strewn over the entire parlor, I’d say a lot.”



“We’re allowed! Every… now and again…” Zeke said with a whine.



Casey cringed and yelped in seeing Stephen raise his hands slowly. “No! Don’t!”



Too late; with a devilish gleam in his eyes, Stephen slammed the lids together, creating a deafening cacophony. Casey shoved his hands over his ears along with Zeke, the two boys bellowing, “STOP, STOP, STOP!”



When Stephen ceased his attack on their oversensitive eardrums, he sighed. “It’s fifteen minutes past nine. Shower, dress and head to the dining room. Plenty of coffee and orange juice.”



Zeke slid to his side, dropped his feet to the floor and sat up. “Fine. Just cut it out, please,” he said.



As difficult as it was, Casey also sat up before Stephen saw it fit to start up the clanging and yelling again. After a moment, Stephen smiled warmly, nodded and left the room. Zeke lifted his droopy eyes to Casey and shook his head very slowly from side-to-side. “He’s done this before. Shoulda warned ya,” he said. With another hearty, pained groan, he stood. “C’mon. Showers. It’ll do the job enough.”



“Ah-kay,” Casey mumbled.