The Seducers Series Collection

M/M/M Bundle

Suzanne A. Newman

A Stroke of Luck

Arian dug deep into a green dumpster hoping to find something fresh to eat. Once, he pulled a wedding band and pawned it. He used the money to stay in a motel for a few nights. He knew better than to expect that ever to happen again, but it certainly would be nice. The Salvation Charity Home turned him away and he didn’t have a place to stay. Fall turned to winter and the nights grew increasingly colder. An older man, a veteran of the streets, taught him a trick. He taught Arian to use trash bags to contain your body heat. Fine hairs grew on his cheeks; he wished he could grow a beard that would help with the chill. The hair on his head did grow long and some nights he would try and pull it over his face to keep it warm.

 

            He found a stale bagel and half of a sports drink with the lid still on. He gulped down the drink and ground the tough bagel flesh between his teeth. He figured it was better than having nothing. That’s when he saw it. A sparkle caught his eye. It wasn’t in the dumpster, but underneath it, next to one of the wheels. He bent and stretched his arm under the dumpster. He felt the cool smoothness of metal and retrieved the object. The bands of a wristwatch draped over his hand. The watch-face’s glass was scratch free and if it was not a fake, it would be very valuable. He tucked the watch safely into his pocket. He knew if he climbed the fence to the adjacent alley, a pawn shop stayed open late about a block away. He ascended and landed on the other side of the chain-link fence.

 

            “Look who it is!” a menacing voice called out.

 

            Arian’s pulse quickened. He knew the voice. It belonged to a guy called, Bob. Bob had bullied him for the last two years. The reason he fled his suburban home and left for the city was to escape bullies. At the time, he thought one could only be bullied in school. He was wrong. The streets produced bullies too. Bob was so called for the tattoos on his face. For every lock-up, he inked a new design.

 

            “Hi kid! What are you doing in MY alley?” Bob asked.

 

            “Nothing,” Arian said, turning to climb back over the fence.

 

            “Not so fast, Ari” the bully said.

 

            Bob yanked Arian off of the fence and tossed him to the ground. The impact sent the watch flying out of his pocket and onto the asphalt. Arian heard the metal skid away and crawled to the watch. He reached out for it. WHAM! Bob’s boot slammed into Arian’s stomach. He nearly lost the bagel he had just eaten. Bob picked up the watch and wiped it clean with his shirt. He proceeded to deliver kicks to Arian’s torso.

 

            “Hey! Stop!” a man’s voice called out.

 

            “Fuck!” Bob said and jumped the fence.

 

            “Get back here!” the voice yelled. .

 

            “Fuck you assholes!” Bob screamed back.

 

            Two men in tailored suits approached Arian’s limp body. One helped him up and the other began to call the police.

 

            “Are you okay? Do you need to go to hospital?”

 

            “No. I’m fine. Thanks,” Arian said.

 

            “Yes, we were walking past an alley between Chestnut and Maple and…”

 

            “No police. Please,” Arian pleaded.

 

            “He says he’s fine,” the man holding Arian said.

 

            “Never mind. We’re okay. He’s okay. I over reacted. Sorry,” the man ended the call.

 

            “They don’t care about people like me and Bob’s long gone by now,” Arian said.

 

            “We have a condo. Not far from here. Let’s get you cleaned up and bandaged,” one of the men said.

 

            “Are you sure?” Arian asked.

 

            “Absolutely. Come now.”

 

            The exquisite lobby opened to a hall with elevators. The concierge at the front desk looked perturbed as the two tenants carried a homeless kid through to their private elevator. Their “condo” seemed more a penthouse. The palatial fixtures and incredible view took Arian’s breath. One of the men heated up some broth, tea and toast. Arian gulped the soup and tea down in seconds. 

 

            “Better?” one of the men asked as he removed his blazer.

 

            “Much. Thank you,” Arian said.

 

            “I’m Drake and this is my husband Jason.”

 

            “I’m Arian. Nice to meet you.”

 

            “You too,” Drake said, “Would you like to get cleaned up?”

 

            “We have a guest room. You can stay the night, if you like.”

 

            “Thanks. You’re very kind. But, you’ve already done enough,” Arian said unable to look the men in the eye.

 

            “We insist,” Jason said.

 

            He led the boy down a hallway filled with paintings. He opened the door to the guest room and in the room he opened another door to the adjoining bathroom. It was the whitest room Arian had ever seen. The floors, walls, fixtures and even the grooming products were white.

 

            “Towels are here,” Jason gestured to a cabinet “and the other nuts and bolts are in here.”

 

            “Thank you,” Arian said.

 

            “No problem. We’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

 

            Arian closed the door to the bathroom and took of his jacket and canvas pants. The then untied the trash bags and took off his boots. He turned the knob to the shower and warm steam filled the room. He stepped into the shower and let the water run over him. The dirt on his body rinsed off as he lathered. He washed his hair three times to get the city out of it. The bubbles felt good between his ass cheeks as they foamed between them and then rinsed all the way down to his scrotum and to the shower’s tiled floor.

           

            Meanwhile, Jason and Drake opened a bottle of red wine and sat on stools pulled up to the kitchen island. The Bordeaux tasted sweet, but the evening soured.

 

            “That poor kid,” Drake said.

 

            “I know. It’s awful. What would have happened if we hadn’t been there?”

 

            “Who knows? I’m just glad we were.”
     

            Arian continued to get cleaned up. He trimmed his nails and shaved his face. He found a pair of scissors under the sink and cut his hair to a length just long enough to be pushed behind his ears. He brushed his teeth and hair. Arian looked completely different with the street off of him, a handsome, fit, young man. He wrapped a towel around his waist and looked for a robe or something to change into in the bedroom. Nothing. He walked down the hall to the kitchen and entered.

 

            “Sorry to ask, but may I borrow some clothes?” he asked.

 

            The two men tried to keep their jaws from hitting the floor. The “kid” looked hot. His pecs glistened with beads of water and with his hair out of his face, his green eyes were piercing. His flat stomach plummeted down into a “v” above his groin. His slim mid-section made his shoulders appear almost too broad. Jason took a breath, trying to murmur something through his shock and excitement.

 

            “Um. Yeah, sure. Of course. Sorry. Should have thought of that.”

 

            Jason went to the master bedroom and picked a pair of white briefs, silk pajama bottoms and a light cotton t-shirt. He returned to the kitchen and heard Drake and Arian laughing. They discussed the stupidity of Bob’s tattoos. Arian explained that the Popsicle tattoo on the bully’s left cheek referenced an ice cream stand he had held up and then gotten caught.

 

            “That guy sounds like a tool!” Jason chimed in laughing.

 

            “Oh, thank you,” Arian said, taking the pajamas from Jason.

 

            Arian walked back down the hall with the colorful pictures. He pulled the briefs over his butt and penis. The briefs stretched tight over his crotch. Very tight. The silk pants were more forgiving and the shirt felt soft against his clean skin. In the kitchen, his hosts offered him a glass of wine.