Coming Alive With You

Coming Alive With You

Penelope Rivers

Prologue

Eighteen-year-old Farrell sat in the lunchroom picking at his food. Today

the meal was a hunk of meat that the lunch ladies called turkey, as well as a
scoop of potatoes. He grimaced, but he shoveled it all in, knowing that this
may be the only time he would get to eat that day.

He deliberately avoided going home after school, trying to get out of his

mother’s way. There was so much pressure on him. His mother and father
wanted him to go to a good college, marry the perfect woman, and then
become a famous lawyer or doctor. Farrell got all Cs in school, though he
had become the master at faking good grades by rewriting his report cards,
and had failed his last math exam. On top of that, there was something else,
something that his mother would not understand.

The truth was that he was gay. He knew it, even then. Deep down, he was

more terrified about his attraction for men more than he was about his own
future. His mother, who had been an active antihomosexual activist for five
years, would cry and then disown him. Maybe his parents could live with the
fact that he wasn’t going to Harvard—heck, he might not even go to
college—but he knew that they would never forgive him for being gay.

That was why he spent day after day at his friend’s house. Taz was his

solace, even though he had no idea about Farrell’s real problems. Taz was just
a good cover, a face for what was going on inside of Farrell’s twisted mind.
But there was something else that Farrell did to relieve stress other than
visiting his friend’s house, something that was far worse . . .

Farrell was the class clown—the popular class clown—and a total asshole.
Taz, who had been sitting beside Farrell, eating a similar “mystery meat”

lunch, said, “Hey, Farrell, look who it is. It’s Toyo. Too Fat To Be You Toyo.”

Farrell laughed as if that was so funny, which it really wasn’t.
That was when Toyo Hayashi came walking—or rather, waddling—into

the lunchroom. Toyo was half  Japanese and half  French, so he had a
Japanese name and the fine blond hair of  a Frenchman. He had transferred
to their private high school six months ago and had been the butt of  many
jokes since then. Farrell, though, was the one who had started it all.

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Farrell, who was being elbowed by Taz, stood up and walked in front of

Toyo, who currently was in the middle of carrying a heavy lunch tray. Toyo
was very heavy, at least three hundred pounds, and had a nose that whistled
when he panted. It was very easy to pick on someone like Toyo, who rolled
over like a kicked dog. If Toyo had wanted to, he could have very easily
kicked Farrell’s ass.

“Yo,” Farrell said, eyeballing Toyo and smiling.
All heads in the lunchroom turned their way, ready to see the action.

Even one of the lunch ladies turned to watch, but she would, like always, say
nothing. Sometimes the food workers even made fun of Toyo too, but never
to his face.

Toyo’s dark brown eyes were bulging with fear. He tried to turn around,

lunch tray in hand, but Farrell grabbed his fat shoulder and stopped him. An
overflow of gravy dumped down Toyo’s hands as he squeaked.

“Yo, fat boy,” Farrell said as half the people laughed, “why don’t you save

some food for the rest of us? Just because there are starving kids in China
doesn’t mean that you have to eat their share.”

Toyo squawked. Fat tears poured down his face.
“Not today,” Toyo mumbled. “Please not today, Farrell.”
“What?” Farrell said as Taz and the rest of his friends egged him on.

“You expect me to have pity on you, pig boy?”

That was all it took. Toyo dropped his tray on the floor, showering his

clothing with mashed potatoes, and ran away. As Farrell stared after him, his
stomach clenched. He felt guilty, even as Taz and his two other friends came
up to him and patted him on the back, laughing.

“That was great, man,” Taz said. “And he was crying, too. What a fag.”
Yeah, thought Farrell, his eyebrow twitching as he looked down at

himself. What a fag . . .

Coming Alive With You

Penelope Rivers

Chapter One

Twelve years later
“Wake up, Farrell,” screamed a voice outside of his door. “Get out of

bed this instant.”

Farrell moaned and rubbed at his eyes. His lover, Allen, was standing at

the doorway with his hair in disarray and his mouth wearing an angry scowl.
Allen had bright blue eyes and skin the color of cinnamon. After they had
first met, Farrell had thought that Allen was more attractive than Adonis.
Unfortunately, the beauty only ran skin-deep.

“What the hell were you doing last night?” Allen asked him from the

doorway. “I told you that I needed you back here at six.”

“I told you,” Farrell responded quietly, shaking his head. “I had to work a

double shift. I have to do it today, too.”

“Like fuck you are.”
Both of them examined each other.
Farrell could have said something to Allen, corrected him for his bad

treatment, but he didn’t have the ability to speak. This was something that
had been happening to him more and more as of late. His life had gotten
hard after high school. Too hard.

Once his parents had discovered that he had been faking his grades the

entire time, they were so angry that they had sent him away to his uncle in
Minnesota, who was practically a cultist. Though Farrell had been eighteen at
the time, he hadn’t run away even when his uncle locked him up for days on
end. The final straw came when Farrell had been caught kissing Freddy
Barnes in the shed. His uncle had beaten him until his arm broke, and then
he had been tossed out on the street without a penny to his name. Taz had
abandoned him for the high life of college, and he had had nobody to call on
for help. He then made his own way and now worked at an advertisement
agency as a secretary.

Allen had been a client of his boss’s, and after Allen had heard Farrell’s

friend heckling him for being gay, Allen had asked him out. A few years later,
they had moved in together, but Allen shed his nice-guy skin. Farrell had

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been knocked around by him more than once, but after eight years of
wandering around alone, he was willing to put up with almost anything.

As Farrell climbed down from the bed and went over to the closet to

grab a shirt, Allen decided to demonstrate Farrell’s likeness to a doormat. He
grabbed Farrell’s arm, yanking him around to face him, and said, “You were
moaning some other guy’s name in your sleep. You aren’t cheating on me, are
you? Because if you are, I’ll kill him and then you.”

“Some other guy’s name?” Farrell asked in confusion.
Suddenly, he remembered the dream that he had had about high

school—well, it had been a nightmare, really. Farrell still felt terrible about
being the cause behind Toyo’s school transfer. He had never seen Toyo after
that day in the lunchroom.

“You really are as dumb as you look,” Allen grumbled, examining

Farrell’s contemplative expression and storming out of the room. “God.”

After getting dressed, Farrell headed out of the room and faced the rest

of their apartment. It was covered in dirty clothes and dishes from Allen’s
“party” last night. This was a common thing for Allen to do: once a month
he would get drunk and start throwing things around. Most of the time,
Farrell was good at tracking it and could arrange to spend the night at a
hotel, but sometimes his own calendar failed him.

Swearing, Farrell checked his watch and began to pick up the mess in the

room, knowing that he had only fifteen minutes to do so. He hated to leave
things in such a mess, and Allen, who had apparently left for work because
the room was empty, would dislike it even more after he got home. It might
even drive Allen into another drinking spell.

After Farrell had cleaned the room somewhat, he escaped without

breakfast and tried to ignore the pressing pains in his stomach. He had to be
at work by seven sharp, or else his boss, Warren, would kill him. His boss
couldn’t have been more of a stickler about time if he had been stuck inside
of a time machine. Today there was a big meeting, so that meant that things
would be even worse.

Farrell stumbled down the city streets and attempted to zip up his ancient

coat as a wind blew, only to find that the zipper was stuck and wouldn’t go

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up. He let out a sigh of aggravation, but continued onward even as his teeth
began to chatter. There’s nothing that I can do. Allen would use whatever was left
over of his pay and would spend it. That was always what happened.
Sometimes Allen would use it to buy booze. Other times, even Farrell wasn’t
sure where it went.

“Shit,” Farrell said, sliding to a stop at the bus stop and noting the rear

end of a bus on the wrong end of the street. He had missed his ride, the only
one that would get him to work on time. “Shit, shit, shit!”

There was a phone booth only a few steps away from the bus stop, but

by the time the taxi would come for him, it would be time for the next bus.
He was left waiting there, chewing his bottom lip in worry. How could this
happen? Why would Allen do this to him on a day when his boss needed him
the most? Did he want him to get fired?

Farrell opened his cell phone and noted the time. The bus would be

arriving at work right now.

As if reading his thoughts, a message appeared on his screen from his

boss’s number. It said: Where are you?

Farrell moaned and hit his head. He typed back: Bus is late. I’m on my way.
There wasn’t a message after that, but as the bus pulled up to the stop ten

minutes later, his heart leaped in his chest. His boss had fired people before
for giving him the wrong memo. What was going to happen to Farrell? He
couldn’t afford to lose this job. There was no telling what Allen would do to
him if he did. After all, he didn’t like to be hit, even if he was a man.

He clambered into the bus and sat down next to a man wearing

sunglasses even though he was inside. After that, he riffled in his briefcase
and found an old magazine and pulled it out, but he couldn’t concentrate
today. He was just too nervous about getting to work on time.

That was when something wet and cold hit his leg. He leaped out of his

seat as he discovered two big brown eyes and a dog that was attached to
them. The dog had sniffed his pant leg and had left a slobbery splotch on his
suit. He swore underneath his breath and remained standing.

“I’m sorry,” the man in the sunglasses apologized. “Bad Nickel. What did

you do? You know better than that. I thought that Danny was giving you

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obedience lessons.”

Though the man continued to apologize, Farrell shook him off. What

was the point of getting upset about it? He was already late, and now he had
a slobber stain on his pants. He sighed, feeling his head hurt. He had a bad
feeling about today.

At fifteen minutes after, Farrell stumbled off the bus and onto the

sidewalk, seeing the Warren and Frank Advertising building in front of  him.
Warren was his boss. Frank, who was Warren’s cousin twice removed, spent
the majority of  his time in the Caribbean with blonde girls. He was Warren’s
rich financial backer, and while he didn’t put in any of  the work, Warren
would have had nothing without him. Maybe that was why Warren was so
testy with his employees all of  the time.

Farrell stumbled into the office and prepared himself for a beating. It

was no surprise that his boss was waiting for him at the desk, his arms
crossed in front of his chest. Already, Farrell was having heart palpations.
Maybe he should look at the help-wanted ads in the newspaper.

“Farrell,” said Warren, his deep, rumbling voice causing silence across the

whole office.

“Warren,” Farrell said quickly. “I am so sorry, sir. I knew about the big

meeting. I had an emergency, and then my bus was late.”

Warren didn’t appear amused by his excuses. Though I don’t think I’ve ever

seen him amused, thought Farrell, examining his boss. Warren was five foot two,
plump, and favored business suits and red ties, regardless of  the season or
day. He enforced a strict dress code, and he believed that slacking off  should
be punishable by law. Farrell did not know whether Warren had children, but
if  he did, then he thought that they would be better off  in a Third World
country.

“The meeting got canceled, Farrell,” Warren said. “I’ll overlook this

tardiness because you’re always on time.”

Farrell was stunned. Had that been a compliment?
“Thank you, sir,” Farrell said, bending over at the waist in relief.
“The reason why I’m here is because there is somebody here in the

waiting room for you,” Warren said grumpily. “Make it fast, or else I’ll write

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you up.”

“Somebody for me?” he asked, stunned.
There was something wrong here. First off, Warren would rather get shot

point-blank in the head than give anyone a compliment, and secondly, he
would never give a worker paid time in order to talk to somebody. Farrell
checked the ceiling. No flying pigs yet.

After Warren had left, Farrell stood rooted to the spot for a moment. He

put his hand on the desk and stared at Warren’s door. He was so stunned by
his boss’s actions that he had yet to even contemplate the guest in the waiting
room. That was when somebody snuck up behind him and blew in his ear,
hard.

He yelped loudly, nearly falling over in shock. That was when somebody

giggled from behind him, and he swore, turning around. It was Natalya, the
public relations specialist. She had a thing for him, but he avoided her as if
she was poison. She was aware that he was in a relationship, but nobody at
the office knew that he was gay.

“Notice that Warren is no longer the pustule on the backside of life?”

asked Natalya, leaning forward and winking at him. “Did you hear about
what happened?”

“Hear what?” Farrell asked, massaging his ear. “I’m not going to be

hearing much of anything after what you just did.”

“Oh, boo.” She rolled her eyes. “The scum sucker managed to get

himself a fiancée. Can you imagine? He actually managed to find someone
that likes him, besides his mother.”

“That’s terrible,” Farrell said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.

Somebody’s waiting for me, or something . . .”

“Oh, right,” she said. “Her.”
After that, Natalya skulked off with her head hung low. Farrell stared

after her, confused. He turned down her date offers at least once a week, and
she never looked sullen like that. He wondered who it was waiting for him.
Oh no, he thought worriedly. Maybe Warren was just the calm before the
storm.

He walked over to the waiting room door and paused. He didn’t know

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many women who cared where he worked. His mother, maybe? No, she
hated his guts. She would spit in his face upon sight. There was no use
wondering about it now, though. He just had to push through and find out.

So he opened the door.
The woman sitting on the cream-colored couch was beautiful and young,

but she looked very tired too. She had brunette hair that hung down to her
waist, her bottom lip was pierced, and she was wearing a pair of flip-flops
that had skulls on them. Warren let her in the waiting room? Farrell thought
skeptically as she stood up to greet him.

He saw someone step out from beside her whom he had not noticed

before because he had been too surprised. It was a young boy, probably a
ten-year-old. He had ash-colored hair and blue eyes. His face was still round
with youth, but there was something about his jaw and the way he moved
that reminded him of someone close to home.

“Oh God,” Farrell said. “Allen?”
The woman looked stunned that he had put it together that quickly.

“You’re Farrell?”

Farrell stopped examining the little boy with Allen’s face shape and

looked up again. To his surprise, the woman was sobbing now. The boy, who
noted this too, began to back away toward the corner and behave as though
he wanted to disappear. This was something that Farrell knew well. He had
tried this maneuver several times at his uncle’s, and it had never worked for
him.

“You’re one of Allen’s lovers, right?” the woman said, still crying. She

wiped at her makeup, and a dark smudge appeared on her right cheek. “I’m
Pam. I was Allen’s girlfriend in high school. This is Ty, our son.”

Heat rose to his face. He knew that Allen had been with women before

him, but he hadn’t known that Allen had had a son. Farrell felt sick to his
stomach. He felt around behind him, grabbing at one of the plush chairs, and
sat down and buried his face in his hands. That was when the woman threw
herself at him desperately, and he was overwhelmed by the smell of her
cheap perfume and lotion.

She knelt before him, tears plopping onto his shoes. He didn’t know what

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to do. He had never been great with emotional things, and his mother had
been as hard and as cold as ice toward him. The most he could manage was
patting Pam on her head.

“Please convince Allen to take Ty,” Pam begged. “I’ve been calling him

and calling him, but he won’t listen to me. He calls me a dumb whore and
says that I’m lying, but I’m not.”

“I believe you,” Farrell said quietly.
Pam sniffed and looked up at him with two big eyes. “You do?”
“Ty looks just like Allen.” Farrell gulped. “But he never told me . . . I

didn’t even know that he had a son, and yet we’re supposed to be lifetime
partners, and—”

Pam laughed bitterly. “Listen. I know that I’m asking you for a favor, but

I’m going to be honest. Don’t believe what he tells you. He fed me the same
cock-and-bull story, and I got landed with him”—Ty flinched and curled up
further in a ball—“and had no one.”

“Yet you’ll leave your son with him?” Farrell asked. “And I don’t think

that Allen is all that bad.”

She reached forward and grabbed Farrell’s hand, pulling up his sleeve to

reveal a set of fingerprint bruises that were from their fight yesterday.
Quickly, he pulled his arm back and did his best to keep his features neutral,
but it didn’t fool her. She must have known Allen well in the past, which
broke Farrell’s heart, because he hadn’t even been told about her.

On top of that, he couldn’t believe the situation. How could anyone want to

leave their son with someone that they hate? he thought, horrified. He laid his eyes
on Ty and felt his stomach sink. Ty looked like Farrell had felt at that age
whenever he was with his parents—shrunken and small. His mother had
either ignored him or yelled at him, and his father was never around. He had
tried to make up for it in school by being as loud and as obnoxious as
possible. While Allen had his soft points, Farrell didn’t think that he would be
good for Ty. He didn’t think that Pam was all that good for Ty, either.

That was when his whole life flashed before his eyes: all his mistakes, all

the things that he wished he could fix. He knew that it was ridiculous of him
to want to make things right through Ty, yet he felt his heart pound just by

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looking at him.

At that moment, Ty glanced upward from his place in the corner and

looked him straight in the eye. His eyes were not filled with tears like his
mother’s, but there was still sadness in them—sadness beyond tears. Just as
quickly as Ty had looked at him, he glanced away again.

“I’ll take him myself,” Farrell said
The room grew quiet. Everybody was stunned, including Farrell himself.

Had he really just said that? Had he just volunteered himself for parent duty?

“You will?” Pam said, her mouth hanging open. “But why? I don’t even

know you.”

“You knew enough about me to figure out that I was living with Allen,

right?” Farrell said. “How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know,” Pam said. “I got invited to do this fashion partnership

with my aunt in New York City.”

Farrell didn’t need to be told twice what that meant. He had seen it

happen before with his friend in high school, Carlee. Her mother had told
her that she had a job to do and that she would be back. After that, Carlee’s
mother had vanished for good. When high school was over, Carlee became a
stripper.

He laid his eyes on Ty. The danger of the kid becoming a stripper wasn’t

great, but he could already see deep emotional damage. I can’t believe that I
agreed to this, he thought, shaking his head in response to his own stupidity.
Maybe Allen was right. Maybe he was dumber than a sack of bricks.

“I’ve got all of the paperwork,” Pam said when Farrell didn’t say

anything. “It’ll be real easy.”

Farrell looked down at what she handed him. He was stunned by just

how easy it was to sign away a life, something so precious that it should have
been guarded with a thousand men. Instead, Ty had just been traded away
like nothing more than a hand-me-down.

* * * *

As Farrell worked, Ty sat silently on the floor behind his desk without

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saying a word. Farrell thought that it was discontenting how silent Ty was. It
was like he had no tongue, no way to convey his emotions. Farrell had once
seen a stuffed animal show more humanness than Ty did.

Farrell did his duties, which included filing and taking phone calls for the

rest of the staff, but it was hard for him to concentrate. He was having an
inner argument: Why the hell did you take somebody else’s kid? Allen didn’t even bother
to tell you that he had an illegitimate child. You should have just let that woman handle her
own problems.

After that, he would look down at Ty guiltily and think, He isn’t such a bad

kid. Remember Ted Williams, who was in the foster care system? His life ended up
terrible. Things are going to be much better if he’s with you. At least you can give him a
warm bed and some food.

He squirmed in his seat. There was nothing that he could do about it

now, anyway. He had signed the paperwork, and in his mind, he felt as
though he had signed away a bit of  his own life too. This was so like him. He
had always been an impulsive person. He was the sort of  guy who said all the
wrong things and never thought things through. He was going to end up in
the gutter because of  it, just like his mother had always said that he would.

On top of that, Farrell had no idea how Allen was going to react when

he brought home his son. Allen didn’t like kids. He told that to Farrell
whenever they passed a school bus or a candy store with children pressing
sugar-coated fingers against the windows.

As lunchtime came around—one o’clock on the button—his coworkers

rose and began to file out of the office to head next door to the Asian
restaurant that always gave them discounted pricing. Warren, who usually
brought lunch from home, opened his office door too. Everyone went very
still. They were too used to him sucking the life out of whoever was nearby
to feel comfortable around him.

Warren wandered over to Farrell, and he went very still. Warren stated

the obvious and said, “That’s the kid that the harlot had on her arm this
morning.”

“Yeah,” Farrell said stiffly.
“Why is he here?” Warren asked gruffly, his face turning purple with

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rage.

Warren always looked like that before he spouted lava. All of his

coworkers ran for cover, abandoning Farrell in his line of duty. By some
instinct, he reached down from his seat and squeezed Ty’s shoulder. Ty
looked up in surprise.

“I’m looking after him for his mother,” Farrell explained. “It was an

emergency. As you can see, it hasn’t messed up my work at all. You have a
two o’clock meeting with O’Hara Hair Spray and a meeting with—”

“Agh! I know, I know!” Warren said grumpily. “Listen, you have

emergency days off for a reason. Get out of the office today. I don’t want
you to bring a kid to work again. Do you understand me, Farrell? You’re
lucky that I’m in a good mood today, or else I would boot your ass out the
door for unprofessional conduct.”

This was a very light reprimanding for Warren. Farrell almost jumped out

of his desk because he was so grateful to be able to leave.

That was when he felt a touch of nervousness again. Allen wouldn’t be

home from work yet, but Farrell wanted time to come up with a plan. He
couldn’t just explain what he had done. Adopting a kid wasn’t even along the
same lines of buying a car that he couldn’t afford or splurging on a
vacation—he had been a spontaneous idiot. A nice spontaneous idiot, maybe,
but he was still an idiot all the same.

“Oh, sir,” Farrell said, leaning down and dusting himself off, “thank you

so much. I promise that I’ll come to work tomorrow completely fine.”

“You better,” Warren muttered, a happy smile coming across his face that

Farrell had never seen before. “Now I’m off to see Veronica”

“Veronica?” Farrell asked, stunned.
In the most un-Warren-like way that Farrell had ever seen, he flipped

open his pocketbook and pulled out a picture of a plump woman with hair
that looked like tiny sausages. She was in a big, colorful dress and a sun hat.
She was also holding a hot dog smothered in sauerkraut and was laughing at
something. It must have been really funny, because she was awfully red.

“Veronica,” Warren said, tapping her picture. “My sugar pie, my plum.

I’m getting married. Didn’t you know?”

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Chapter Two

The two of them ate hot dogs on the bus, because Veronica’s picture had

given him a craving for one. Ty had only taken one bite of his, though, and
was silently staring at his meal. Farrell wasn’t sure what to say to him now.
After all, his mother had just left him with a perfect stranger. Whatever Ty
was feeling inside couldn’t have been good.

Finally, Farrell decided to settle with saying, “Are you okay?”
Ty, dropping his hot dog on the floor of the bus, broke through his

statue of silence and let out loud wails as tears fell down his face. Every head
in the bus turned in his direction, and Farrell flushed, feeling like the most
disgusting person in the world. He wanted to say that it wasn’t his fault, but
he couldn’t find any words at all. Maybe it was for the better. Talking to Ty
hadn’t exactly worked out wonderfully.

Ty saved Farrell from the embarrassment of not having anything to say.

In a childish, innocent way, he grabbed Farrell around the waist and started
sobbing into his business jacket. Farrell anxiously patted Ty on his head as he
continued to cry, and held him close, wishing that he was smarter about this
sort of thing.

“Mom wasn’t any good anyway,” Ty said, sobbing. “I didn’t like her at all.

She would never come home, and she would leave me at Grandma Meme’s
for weeks . . . It’s not like I care . . . I don’t care at all . . .”

Farrell smiled bitterly. Those words sounded so familiar that they made

him sick to his stomach: “It’s not like I care . . . I don’t care at all . . .” It was just
like all of those times in the past when he had pretended not to give a shit
that his mother was cruel and that his father had too high of expectations.
He had said the same thing after his uncle had kicked him out and after Allen
had hit him for the first time.

“You don’t want to care,” Farrell said gently, “but you do. It’s okay. I

understand.”

“You do?” Ty whispered, tears streaming down his face as he sniffed and

looked up. “But why did you take me in? Mom was going to put me in a
foster home if Dad didn’t let me stay with him. She never cared about me.

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You . . . You’re a stranger.”

Using his shirtsleeve, Ty wiped at his streaming nostrils. Farrell grimaced.

He forgot that kids liked to do that. In fact, he had forgotten a lot of things
about kids.

He dug inside of his pocket and began to wipe at Ty’s face and nose.

After a moment of hesitation, Ty took the napkin from him and blew hard.
His eyes were still watery, but he was already starting to look a lot better.

“I’m not really sure why I took you,” Farrell admitted. After that, Ty

looked like he was about to start sobbing again, so Farrell said quickly, “But
don’t you worry. I’ll take good care of you, all right?”

Ty nodded slowly, though he still looked worried.
“What happened to that woman that you were talking about—Grandma

Meme?” he asked. “Why didn’t your mother take you to her? Wouldn’t it be
better if you were with family? I’m a complete stranger. I could be a terrible
person.”

After that, he thought of how mean he had been to people like Toyo in

high school. I am a terrible person, he thought, feeling sick to his stomach. What
made me think that I could handle taking care of a sensitive kid? I’m selfish, I’m
unreliable, and sometimes I forget to feed myself, let alone somebody else.

“That’s why my mom didn’t want me anymore,” Ty said, facing forward

and looking stony once more. The hot dog rolled around and got mustard all
over the place, but they both pretended like it wasn’t there. “Grandma Meme
was an old lady and died. I miss her so much. When my mom went off
someplace, she always took care of me and was nice to me. After Grandma
died, Mom was with me some, but she . . . I don’t think that she liked me
very much. I must have done something wrong.”

He squeezed Ty’s shoulder in pity. “I’m sure you didn’t. You seem like a

good kid to me.”

Ty shook his head as the bus rumbled to a stop. Farrell sighed in pity

again before standing up, extending his hand. With no hesitation, Ty took it
and snuggled up to him. It was so different than anything that Farrell was
used to. Oftentimes, Farrell would hold out his hand, and Allen would act as
though it was poison, even at home when no one could see them or judge

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them. Even Farrell’s own parents had been so against hugging or hand-
holding that they treated him like a leper.

The two of them walked toward Farrell’s apartment, and he felt his

stomach clench with nervousness. Allen wouldn’t be home now, but he still
had to figure out what to say. He couldn’t just pack up his things and
disappear. Farrell loved Allen. Maybe he wasn’t head over heels in love with
him, but he still loved him.

“This place is huge!” Ty gasped as Farrell led him up the stairway.
Farrell was shocked. They had a tiny apartment. At least, he had always

thought so. Maybe he needed to rethink how grateful he was.

“This place?” Farrell said, looking down the hallway of the third floor.

His apartment was 3D. “Are you being sarcastic?”

Ty said, “There are no stains on the floor. They must have somebody

here that cleans it. That’s really, really incredible!”

“No stains . . .” Farrell said, eyes wide. “Where on earth was your mother

living?”

After that, Ty didn’t respond. Farrell was silent, going back to his own

thoughts about Allen. As they drew closer to his apartment, he continued to
panic.

What do I say to Allen? “Hey, honey. Remember that son that you never told me that

you had? The one that you acted like an asshole toward and ignored when he called? Well,
guess what! I adopted him. Why don’t we act like one big happy family?” The very idea
of saying that to Allen, particularly when he was in one of his “low” times,
wasn’t even funny.

They approached his apartment number, and Farrell stuck his key in the

lock and opened the door. He was so deep in thought at first that the
rhythmic grunting that he heard in the background of his apartment did not
reach his brain. Then it did.

And then it hit his heart.
He stood there, listening to Allen’s panting from the threshold of the

door. There was no making excuses to himself this time, no “he just had to
work late.” He knew the sound of Allen’s sex noises. After all, they used to
have sex all the time. Not so much anymore, when Allen had fallen into more

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and more lows, but he would still know it anywhere.

His heart hurt so badly that a tear streamed down his face before he

could stop it. Though Allen had never said it, he had always thought that he
loved him. Farrell had been wrong. Now, he was left with a broken heart and
a stomach that felt as though it was about to heave all over the carpet that Ty
liked so much.

“Mom said that you and my daddy were fucking,” Ty said. “Why is he

doing that with somebody else?”

“Ty!” Farrell said, sniffing and wiping his face. “Where did you learn

that? No kid should ever know about . . . It doesn’t matter. Ty, you just stay
out here. I’ll take care of this.”

Ty gave him a blank stare. “What are you going to do?”
“Something,” Farrell replied.
But honestly he didn’t know. He left Ty in the hallway and walked toward

the bedroom, where the door was open and sex could be heard from inside.
Just like Farrell had thought, Allen was there thrusting himself inside of a
college boy—there was a university sweatshirt in a pile on the floor—who
didn’t look like he could have been a day over twenty. The air smelled of
sweat and sex, and there were several used condoms on the floor.

Farrell’s eyes burned more. Suddenly, he remembered all of the times that

he had bailed Allen out of  a tight spot and helped him with his business
when it was failing, even after the assistance of  an advertising company.
Nobody had wanted to buy the “Wonder Helmet,” but Farrell had been right
there handing out pamphlets and designing new logos anyway. He had also
taken care of  the apartment and given rent money.

In his rage, Farrell hit the wall outside of the door, and Allen and the boy

looked up. The boy, who had been under Allen on all fours, let out a squeak.
His penis shriveled as if it had been dipped in ice water. Allen pulled out,
sweaty and heaving, but he didn’t appear sexually deterred. In fact, he looked
like he could have gone on for hours.

“What the hell are you doing?” Farrell hissed. “You were fucking some

brat behind my back?”

Allen sat on the dirty bed and was silent as the college boy scrambled to

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snap up his jeans. The boy, after he had gotten dressed in record speed,
pushed past Farrell and said, “I’m so sorry.”

This went ignored. Farrell was too busy fighting the urge to cry and yell

all at the same time. There was so much bubbling emotion in him that he
didn’t know what to do. The only thought that saved him, the only thing that
kept him from burying his fist in Allen’s face, was Ty, who had seen enough
violence and pain to last a lifetime.

As Farrell stared Allen down, Allen got off the bed and pulled on a pair

of his boxers. He was still panting. As Farrell looked at him, he wondered
how he had ever found Allen attractive. Now, his vein-covered penis looked
diseased and rotten.

What was worse, though, was when Allen attempted to come at him with

his arms wide. Farrell couldn’t accept a hug or anything else. What was Allen
trying to pull? Did he honestly think that he would forgive him after this? In
response to Allen’s extended hands, Farrell slapped him and marched toward
the closet to grab his things.

“Fuck you, Allen,” said Farrell. “Fuck you.”
“That guy didn’t mean anything,” Allen said, grabbing Farrell’s shoulder.

“Come on. You know how I get. I just need to go out and give someone a
good ride.”

Farrell shuddered in anger and straightened up. “A good ride, huh? Well,

how many good rides have you been giving other guys—and girls—behind
my back? I imagine that there were quite a few, considering the fact that you
even had a son that I didn’t know about.”

“Oh, come on! Stop being such a prissy boy, Farrell! I don’t even want to

know how you found out about that!” Allen said. “The kid came from some
dumb slut in high school that couldn’t keep her legs closed.”

“Shut up!” Farrell cried. “Don’t talk like that!”
“You know it’s true!” Allen cried. “You’ve got to believe me.”
With shaking hands, Farrell grabbed a duffel bag from the corner of the

closet and began to shove all of his things inside of it. Allen grabbed at his
shirt again, attempting to catch his attention, but Farrell ignored him. This
time, Allen chose to get his attention by punching him solidly in his floating

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rib and making him squeak.

“Listen here,” Allen said. “You aren’t going anywhere, understand?”
Farrell shuddered in rage. “Touch me again, and I’m calling the cops,

okay? Call me a sissy boy or whatever the hell you want, but I am leaving.
You did this to yourself, Allen. I cared about you. I would have stayed by
your side. You blew it away yourself. When you’re cold and alone, know that
it’s your own fault because you’re such a heartless dick.”

After that, Farrell tossed his bag over his shoulder and turned to march

to the threshold of the apartment. Allen followed after him, hissing like an
angry goose, but he did not try to hit him to catch his attention again. Once
Farrell got to the door, he looked around desperately for Ty, but he did not
see him. He felt panic rise in addition to the hurt and embarrassment and
pain.

“No one will ever love you, Farrell!” Allen yelled at him as he stumbled

toward the door. “You’re a stupid nobody. You don’t have a degree, you’re a
pushover, and you’re about as talentless as a tree stump! At least I have
people that want to fuck me.”

“Shut up!” Farrell yelled, shutting his eyes. “Don’t say to me what my

parents did. I swear to God, Allen!”

“Your own parents didn’t love you!” Allen continued. “You were so

dumb and ugly that they didn’t want you! I don’t want you either. You were
never good enough! Never!”

That was when Ty stepped out from beyond the door. He was crying,

and his face was red and swollen. Farrell wanted to reach out to Ty and
protect him. Allen could hit somebody like Ty.

“Dad?” Ty said softly from the door.
Allen went very still. A whoosh of air went out of his lungs, but after

that, there was nothing but sheer silence. At that moment, Ty hesitated
before reaching out his hand toward Farrell and not his own father. Farrell
took a step forward and grabbed on, truly realizing at that moment why he
had chosen to take Ty with him—Ty would save him, not the other way
around.

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* * * *

Farrell stood in a hotel room shower and cried his heart out. He didn’t

want Ty to see him bawling. It wasn’t because he wanted to appear tough, but
because Ty had seen enough pain today already. If Farrell was confused
about taking Ty on, then Ty must have been so tenfold.

As he stood there, he felt waves of confusion with the strength of an

earthquake. He hadn’t felt this scared and bewildered since high school, when
he had used to punch himself in the thigh repeatedly until dark, angry
bruises appeared there. “It’s from wrestling,” he had told his mother the one
time she noticed after walking in on him changing by mistake.

Now, he couldn’t run his head against the wall or hit his leg. He had to

take care of Ty. Allen is such a dick, he thought, scrubbing his scalp so hard
that it hurt. I don’t know what to do. I don’t have any savings and have no place to live.
On top of that, I have a little kid who has no clothes or toys.

He shuddered as he turned the water to as cold as possible and let it hit

him straight in the face.

That was when he heard a gentle knock on the door. He hesitated before

saying, “Come in.”

“You forgot your towel,” Ty said, opening up the door a bit and tossing it

inside.

What a nice kid, he thought weakly, hanging his head. At this moment, he

and Ty were not so different. Farrell still felt like a lost, confused little boy
himself.

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Chapter Three

The next day, Farrell called in a favor. Ellen Mark, one of his good

friends, was a teacher at a nearby elementary school. She was older, about
sixty-five, and had four children who were all grown up. Now, because it was
during the holidays, she had time off from teaching. Farrell hadn’t seen her in
years, but when he explained his problem over the phone, Ellen had decided
to take on Ty at once.

Deep down, after Farrell had dropped Ty off and told him that he would

be back at the end of the day, he felt guilty that he was giving his teacher
trouble yet again. Ellen had been his sixth-grade teacher many, many years
ago. She had been the only one to notice that he had problems at home.
Instead of giving him bad citizenship scores, she had taken the time to talk to
him about why he had such disciplinary issues.

He remembered slobbering all over her and saying, “My parents are so

mean, Mrs. Mark . . . and my mom’s always yelling, and my dad never pays any attention
to me. When I’m at home, it feels like everything is so cold and empty.”

Ellen had let him come to her house after school sometimes, even when

he was no longer in her class. It had definitely been against school guidelines,
but then again, she hadn’t been about things like that. She had really wanted
to help students, not just get a paycheck. After he had reached the age of
twenty-two, Ellen had told him to stop calling her Mrs. Mark and to call her
Ellen instead. They stayed friends. If anybody could be trusted with Ty, then
it was somebody like Ellen.

With this thought in mind, he secretly envied Ty as he boarded the bus to

head to work. Ty would spend the day helping Ellen make fat, buttery cakes
and thick, steamy stews while inadvertently releasing all of his feelings. This
was a Mrs. Mark trade secret to getting closer to kids. Farrell, on the other
hand, would have to spend his day at work thinking, What the hell am I going to
do now? I have no place to live.

As the bus drew to a stop and he had still not come up with any

semblance of a resolution to his problems, he began to panic. He tried to
fight down the angry monster still roaring in his chest that said, Allen is a dick.

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Insulting Allen would not help him now. Nothing could. He just had to get
through the day and perhaps talk to Ellen. Ellen had the ability to provide
solutions to the most difficult of problems.

He opened the door to the office and was hit with a wave of cold air.

Most of his coworkers were there, but they were not at their desks looking
up superfluous information like they normally were. Instead, they were
milling around the conference room at the end of the hall, all looking
nervous. Warren was there too.

Farrell nervously inched his way toward the conference room, praying

that he was allowed to be there. As he stepped inside, he glanced at the
whiteboard behind Warren. It said: There is a new branch of Warren and Frank
Advertising opening in South Winchester.

His stomach, if possible, sunk further. He knew what this meant. New

wings of the company meant job transfers. When he had first applied for this
job a few years ago, there had been a little box on the application that asked
whether or not he was willing to transfer. He had checked it. At the time,
there had been only one Warren and Frank Advertising, so he thought that
he was safe. He had been wrong.

What would they want with a secretary, though? Farrell thought nervously. The

last thing that he wanted to do now was uproot Ty when things were already
as rocky as they were. He felt like his world was shaking, and there was
nothing that he could do to keep from falling over—he had no idea what Ty,
who had no control whatsoever, felt. They couldn’t transfer him. They just
couldn’t.

The moment that the clock struck work time, Warren began to speak.

“All right. Looks like everyone who is not a slacker is here. I’m sure that you
are all surprised about the fact that we are opening a new branch. I’m
surprised too, I must admit. Frank doesn’t tell me these things . . . but I’m a
partner . . . I should know about this . . . It’s just not right, I say. Just not right
at all that he doesn’t tell me until—”

“Sir, sir!” said Natalya, who had been standing beside Farrell. Her voice

was so shrill that he cringed away from her, as did the man on her other side.
“Are some of us really being transferred?”

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Warren nodded his head and then met Farrell’s eyes. Shit, Farrell thought.

It’s me. It is so me.

“When will we know who is being transferred?” asked Mr. Beardly. “I

have a family at home, and gas prices are through the roof. I don’t have
enough cash to drive two hours to go to work every day. This simply isn’t
ethical.”

“I’ll be calling in the people that are being transferred,” Warren hissed

angrily, spitting all over everyone. Farrell got hit with a speckle of drool
straight in the face. “I’ll have a private little talk with them in my office.”

Farrell finally found his voice. “And what if they don’t want to transfer?”
Warren gave him a wicked smile. “Well, then, they might as well find

another job, eh? We’re downsizing this branch. We can’t afford to pay for
more than we need—not that I’m doing it. Frank rubs it in my face all the
time.”

The color drained from his face. He knew he was one of the ones being

transferred. There had been an evil, steely look in Warren’s eye that told him
everything he needed to know. He had two choices: a) go to where he was
assigned or b) look for an entirely new job altogether. He hung his head. It
would be hard to find another place that paid him forty thousand dollars a
year for secretarial work like this one did.

What holds you here, anyway? Farrell thought. Your ex-boyfriend, the cheating

scumbag? He shuddered. There really was nothing. The closest thing that he
had to a friend now was Ellen, and he couldn’t rely on her anymore. He was
an adult and had a kid to look after.

* * * *

When he stumbled back to Ellen’s that evening, he felt as though he had

been kicked in the spleen. He was being transferred, just like he had thought.
After a two-hour meeting in Warren’s office about it, he knew that he had no
choice. He was going to have to pack up and move, with Ty in tow. On top
of that, he would need to get a new apartment and a credit card with a big
limit. He was going to be hurting for a little while.

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After he knocked on Ellen’s door, he heard somebody yell, “Come in!”

He pushed open the door and smelled the scent of  stew. After that, he was
hit with something small and hard. He looked down, wondering if  Ellen had
finally broken her husband’s “no pet” mantra and gotten herself  a dog.
Instead, he saw that it was Ty, who was clinging on to him like a big squid.

“What’s the matter?” Farrell asked, looking around in shock. “Ellen is

never mean. Why are you hugging me like that?”

“I thought that you weren’t coming back,” Ty said, sniffling. “Whenever

Mom said that she was going to leave for a little while, she would be gone for
weeks or even months. I thought that you were abandoning me.”

Farrell felt his heart hurt. Kneeling, he opened his arms wide and took Ty

into them, giving him a hard squeeze. “I won’t leave you, kiddo. Okay?”

Ty nodded.
After that, Ellen popped her head around the corner. Ellen was plump

and had a mop of gray hair on her head. She also had a cast around her right
leg that she had gotten from a waterskiing accident when she went on a
cruise three weeks ago. She had told him all about it. Her husband was still in
the doghouse for his poor boat-driving abilities.

“I told him that you would be back,” Ellen said. “You were always a bit

of a delinquent, but when you set your mind to something, then you do
whatever it takes. I wouldn’t settle for anything less. You have to be of a high
caliber to taste my cooking.”

Farrell smiled weakly. There were days when he would have laughed at

her jokes until his sides ached, but not anymore. His parents had taken a part
of his heart, and now Allen had some more of it. He wondered how many
times a heart could be broken before it could no longer be repaired.

That was when Ty grabbed his hand and led him toward the kitchen. Ty

had a sticky palm and had chocolate smeared across his right cheek. He
looked as though he had had a very good day with Ellen, but then again, it
was hard not to have a good time with her. She lived her life as if it was an
adventure, and she expected everyone else, especially her students, to do so
as well. Possibly that was how she had survived teaching for so long without
turning wicked.

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When Farrell stopped and looked around at the flaking wallpaper in the

kitchen, he sighed in relief. Nothing had changed here. He felt as though he
might just start doing his homework on her counter. But now it was he who
was different. He definitely wasn’t a class clown anymore. Maybe a world-
class dog was more like it.

“Bad day at work?” Ellen asked, catching the expression on his face. “I

think that boss of yours needs a good, hard kick up his—”

“Don’t!” Farrell said as Ty laughed.
“What?” Ellen said, blinking innocently. “I was going to say stocking. Just

because you finished it bad in your mind doesn’t mean anything to me. And
you never answered my question.”

Farrell sighed. He had to tell them eventually. “I’m being transferred. It

looks as though we’re going to the big city, kiddo.”

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Chapter Four

It was smoggy. It was crowded. It was the big city.
Farrell wasn’t fond of all the hustle and bustle, even if he had lived in a

city before. In his mind, there were two kinds of cities: big cities and little
cities. Little cities had buildings, but also had room to breathe. Big cities were
so packed full of people that it was like stuffing inside of a turkey.

Ty didn’t appear to like it much either, because he spent the entire time

clinging to Farrell’s hand and hadn’t said a word on the train over. Farrell had
a feeling that Ty was nervous. Though he should have probably comforted
Ty, he couldn’t. Ty wasn’t the only one who was scared out of his wits.

They had to take two smaller buses in order to get to their new

apartment that Farrell had gotten last week. It was two bedrooms in the
semipoor area, still poverty-stricken, but they weren’t likely to get shot just by
walking down the hallway, and known as “Sweetheart Haven” by some of the
nearby residents because it was a good place for newlyweds to start out.
Farrell’s new landlord had told him this. He had gotten the idea that the
landlord liked to listen at the poorly built walls at night, and he warned
himself to stay clear of the seemingly perverted old man.

After the second bus arrived and they walked the two blocks to the

apartment, Farrell sucked in air. Ty didn’t say a word as they went inside.
Farrell did his best to ignore the fact that there were stains on the carpet and
the landlord obviously spent more time being creepy than he did cleaning.

As Farrell stood before his door and started unlocking it, Ty said, “Well,

at least they aren’t bloodstains.”

Farrell turned white. “What kind of apartments have bloodstains, Ty?”
“The kind my mother lived in. I told you before, remember?”
Farrell ground his teeth. “Well, I suppose you get points for being an

optimist, but I don’t want to hear about any bloodstained carpets.”

Ty laughed and hung on to Farrell’s shirt. Just as Farrell was getting close

to opening the door—the lock was a little sticky—he heard a bang at the
other end of the hall as a giggling couple headed up the stairwell. Farrell
didn’t pause when he looked at them, but they did when they saw him. Even

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from down the hall, Farrell could smell alcohol on their clothes. In response,
he protectively grabbed Ty’s hand.

“Oh, look!” said the woman, a pretty redhead who wore too big of high

heels. “New neighbors. We’re 4D. We’ll be right next door.”

The man looked embarrassed and muttered out of the corner of his

mouth, “Honey, don’t scare them. It looks like they just got here.”

“Oh, phooey,” the woman replied, waving him off and leaning toward Ty,

who was trembling. Ty probably recognized the smell. His mother didn’t spell
out clean living. “Aren’t you the cutest little thing? Is this your daddy, honey?”

Farrell’s face flushed. What was he? He definitely wasn’t Ty’s father. He

wasn’t even officially an adoptive parent. He was just his guardian, as of right
now.

That was why he was shocked when Ty said loud and clear, “Yes, he’s my

dad.”

“Oh, how sweet!” the woman cried as her partner dragged her away

toward their apartment. “I’m Shelly! Come visit us once you get settled in.”

There was the bang of an apartment door, and even though that was the

case, Shelly’s giggling could still be heard. That made him miss being with
somebody romantically more than he could ever say. On top of  that, Ty had
just called him “Dad.” He wasn’t sure what to say about that. Farrell could
understand if  he had been looking after Ty for years or something, but he
hadn’t been. It had been only a couple of  weeks.

“Ty,” Farrell said as he shut the door behind them and helped him

reorganize his bags, “you don’t have to call me your dad, you know. I can be
your big brother or something. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Ty stayed by the threshold of the door. “No, I called you that because I

wanted to. When I was in school, my teacher said that family isn’t about
blood or anything like that. It’s the people that take care of you no matter
what. You’re taking care of me, even though my mom is a dud and my
grandma died. You even lost your apartment, and you’re still being nice to
me. I know that I haven’t stayed with you for very long, but I . . .”

Farrell felt so touched that his face got hot. How could Allen fail to see

how incredible Ty was? He couldn’t have been sweeter if he had been rolled

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in a honey pot.

As Farrell leaned downward, he tousled Ty’s hair and gave him a hug. Ty

sniffed again. Is it normal to cry this much? Farrell thought, though he had been
crying more than his fair share lately too.

He smiled into Ty’s face and said, “Listen, kiddo. I don’t mind being

called your dad if that’s what you want. Any person that’s got half a brain
would be proud to have a kid like you.”

“So you want me?” Ty asked.
“Of course I do, silly,” Farrell said as Ty squeezed him harder. “And I

promise that I’ll take care of you no matter what happens, okay?”

* * * *

Farrell boarded the bus two days later to head to work. Though he was

nervous, he reminded himself that no boss could be as bad as Warren. Ty’s
optimism must be transferring to me, he thought, now chuckling about Ty’s
comment that at least the stain in the hallway was not blood.

The bus screeched to a halt, and he walked the remainder of the way to

his place of new employment. This building was far bigger than his old work,
though he should have figured it would be because everything in this city was
that way. At least Warren and Frank Advertising did not have a whole
building to itself. Instead it took up residence on the fourth floor.

Nervously, Farrell took the elevator and was immediately squashed by at

least twenty other people. He felt like he was suffocating. When the door
finally opened to release him, he had to shove his way past other people in
order to make it outside.

When he reached the new floor, he was hit by how open it all seemed.

There were windows everywhere, and the employees actually looked happy.
Someone was even talking about how fantastic their boss was. Already, his
stomach felt lighter. Warren had actually done him a favor by transferring
him here. He was going to turn over a new leaf. He was going to have the
time of his life. He was going to build a great home for Ty and would be the
best parent to ever—

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“Are you the new secretary?” said a voice that he recognized, though it

was deeper than he remembered it being. That didn’t matter. Farrell would
have known it anywhere.

“Yes,” Farrell whispered, but he did not turn around.
“I’m your new boss.”
Oh shit, thought Farrell, his stomach squelching. It was Toyo Hayashi.

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Chapter Five

Farrell turned around and met a very different face than the one that he

remembered. Toyo had changed over the years and was now muscular instead
of overweight, and he wore a fancy business suit that sang the word “power.”
There was one term that described Toyo in his current state: sexy.

Farrell took a step backward in surprise and tried to find something to

say. Deep down, he wanted to apologize, but it was so hard to get the words
out because he felt as though he had a large hunk of food stuck in his
windpipe. As he choked on his words, Toyo’s jaw twitched. That was the
moment that Farrell knew Toyo had recognized him upon sight. Perhaps he
had even known that Farrell was coming to work for him before this day.

“Toyo,” Farrell wheezed, sucking in air, “I am so sorry about what I did

to you in high school. I had no idea that you were here when I took this
position.”

Toyo smiled, but his jaw twitched again. “Do I know you from

somewhere?”

There was no way that Toyo had forgotten him, regardless of his words.

Farrell had never seen an angrier person in his entire life, and that included
when he had told his mother that he was gay. Toyo’s mouth was twitching, his
jaw was clenched, and Farrell had the feeling that if he stepped closer, then
Toyo would stab him to death with the pen that was inside of his pocket.

Farrell, fearing for his life, opened his mouth and said, “Look, if you

don’t want me to work here, then I’ll find someplace else. I’ve got to—”

“So you’re the new secretary?” said a young brunette who trotted over on

her high heels. She was beautiful, with short hair and brown eyes. “I’m
guessing that you’re meeting the boss for the first time. Isn’t he amazing?”

That was when Toyo’s jaw twitched again. The girl seemed to notice,

because she took a step back and appeared stunned.

The girl said, “Did I interrupt something?”
Just as Farrell opened his mouth to say yes, Toyo cut him off and replied,

“No, of course not, Lisa. This is Farrell. I’m too busy to give him the tour
right now, so I’ll let you and the others have the honor.”

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Jerking around, Toyo walked back to his office before Farrell had time to

say anything more. Toyo slammed the door behind him.

I feel sick, Farrell thought. Of all people that had to become my new boss, it’s the

one that I tortured in high school.

“God,” Lisa said, shaking her head. “I don’t know what’s the matter with

him today. Normally he’s the most chipper thing. He’s the best boss ever.
Maybe he just got up on the wrong side of the bed or something.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Farrell said.
“Do you two know each other?” Lisa asked.
There was something about the way she said it that made Farrell look at

her questioningly. Some gay men visibly showed signs that they weren’t
straight, but Farrell had never been one of them. Right now, he wondered if
he had made some mistake that alerted her to his sexual orientation. After all,
he couldn’t imagine Toyo telling anyone all of the shitty things that Farrell
had done to him in high school. Farrell had made mass murderers look nice,
and he knew it.

He shrugged his shoulders, and Lisa smiled, taking his arm and escorting

him to the staff room, where she introduced many other people, whose
names he would not remember. After that, he was shown everybody’s office
and his own desk, which was stationed at the front, so that way he could
escort clients to the right person. As they walked, Lisa chattered, but he
wasn’t really listening. He was still trying to get over the horror of seeing
Toyo again, especially since he was so handsome.

If I hadn’t known Toyo before this and knew that he was gay, I would have asked

him out, thought Farrell. Probably Toyo was making up for his “dry spell” in
high school by dating all of the most beautiful women around, including
Lisa, who gushed the entire time about how wonderful Toyo was.

After Farrell had been shown all the rooms and was told to get situated at

his desk, he stared at his monitor hopelessly. Was it even worth it to get
comfortable here? Toyo was either going to fire him or make his life a living
hell. If he was looking after only himself, then he would have left the office
after Toyo had slammed the door. It was just that there was Ty. He would feel
terrible about rocking the boat again after Ty’s mother had abandoned him

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and he had to move out of the city that he knew and loved.

As Farrell stared at the screen blank faced, Lisa leaned over and said,

“Are you okay, Farrell? Isn’t this exactly like the accounts at the old place?
Toyo told us that he’s keeping things pretty much the same.”

Farrell smiled. “Yeah. Thank you, Lisa.”
Lisa bobbed her head and began to chatter again. She didn’t notice that

Toyo had come out of his office and was eyeballing the area like a hawk.
Farrell, who knew trouble when he saw it, kept one eye on Toyo the entire
time. Though he was trying to hide it, he was quivering in his boots.

As Farrell watched Toyo, Lisa finally said something that broke through

his conscious mind. “Farrell, do you want to come with us after work today?
We can eat and get drunk. Friday is a great day to start work, huh? You get
situated and everything.”

With large steps, Toyo approached now. His jaw was still twitching.

Farrell began to grip the desk nervously, wondering whether he was going to
have to run for his life. Poor Lisa, who was stuck in this entire ordeal, did not
understand.

“Lisa, maybe this isn’t a good time,” Farrell said.
“Oh, why not?” Lisa asked, wide-eyed. “Everybody knows that you don’t

really start working on the first day . . . Hello, Toyo. I was just inviting Farrell
to our drinking party. You’re coming, aren’t you?”

Toyo nodded his head and cracked a smile.
“Good!” Lisa cried. “See, Farrell? If you don’t come, then it just wouldn’t

be the same!”

Farrell replied, “I’m sorry. I can’t. I have a child at home. I don’t want to

leave him alone all evening. He needs adult supervision.”

Both Lisa and Toyo were silent for a moment. Farrell riffled with some

papers, trying to appear as though he was looking for something, but in
reality, all of his files were blank. What was there for him to look for? This
was his first day.

After Farrell looked up and met Lisa’s eyes, he saw that she looked very

disappointed about something. He couldn’t tell what. All he knew was that
when someone wore such a droopy expression on their face, it wasn’t a good

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sign—she was going to sulk or push the envelope by urging him on some
more. He practically wanted to scream, “Duck and cover!”

It was Toyo, ironically enough, who saved him. “I was under the

impression that you were alone. Warren said that was why he wanted to
transfer you here, no matter how much I tried to talk him out of it.”

Farrell heard the last comment, and it cut him deep. So Toyo had known

that he was coming. At the very least, he could have been warned. He could
imagine a notice in his mailbox: Warning. You are about to be sent to a place where
your boss is the person that you tortured for three years during high school. He grimaced.

On top of that, he hated the word “single.” It reminded him of Allen.

After all the work on his part, it had been a giant waste of time.

“I am single,” Farrell said, not elaborating. “That’s one of the reasons

why I can’t go. He’s in a summer camp program right now, but he’s too
young to be on his own during the evening.”

“What’s his name?” Lisa asked, her eyes getting all sparkly as Toyo made

a noise out of the back of his throat.

“Ty,” Farrell said. “He’s a good kid. A really, really good kid.”
“That’s so sweet,” Lisa said.
Toyo looked at him suspiciously. Maybe he thought that he was incapable

of actually being nice to another human being. He hadn’t set the best
example in high school. At least Toyo’s jaw had stopped twitching.

Suddenly, a very devilish smile crossed Toyo’s face, and he said, “I’m

suddenly in the mood for a coffee. I think Lisa must be too . . . and the rest
of the employees. My treat.”

Farrell’s eyes widened. That was at least twenty coffees, and all different

orders, for him to remember. He felt his heart pound in his chest as a pad of
paper was passed around in the office and he was sent to bring back scalding
hot coffee, one of which spilled all over him halfway on his trek back to the
office and left a burn mark on his hand.

* * * *

By the time he arrived home, he was exhausted. After he had managed to

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cart twenty coffees back to the office, he had been informed by Toyo that he
had conveniently run out of  ink for the printer and that Farrell should
“please go get some.” After Farrell had arrived back from the office store a
few blocks down, Toyo had informed him that it just wouldn’t do. He had to
have a very specific kind of  ink, one that could be purchased only by taking a
bus forty minutes outside of  town. The day had been a major waste of
company resources as well as his energy. He was certain that Toyo didn’t
really need special ink. He just wanted to be an ass without showing that he
was being an ass. At least what Farrell had done in high school had been
outright and all those not in his friend group knew that he was the biggest
loser on the face of  the planet. What Toyo was doing was much more along
the lines of  closet terrorism.

On top of that, Ty, whom he had just picked up, was pouting. Ty hadn’t

wanted to go to an art camp, but Farrell hadn’t had time or money to find a
proper nanny to watch him during the day. The camp’s fee had been fifty
dollars for four weeks, and he would be observed by qualified teachers. At
least this way Farrell didn’t have to worry about Ty’s life while he was busy
defending his own.

“What do you want for dinner?” Farrell asked as he opened the

refrigerator door and discovered that the closest thing they had to actual food
was mold that was growing in their vegetable box.

Ty, who looked up from where he had been sitting on the couch, said, “I

don’t care. Anything, really.”

Farrell did what he could. In this case, that meant order pizza. He was the

fastest pizza dialer in the West.

As he fumbled around in his pocket, he found his bus pass, but nothing

else. Had he been mugged? Had somebody taken his things from his pocket
in the train? He felt his heart speed up in panic, and all of the color drained
from his face. Ty must have noticed it, because he sat up from the couch and
looked alarmed. He could sniff out trouble faster than a dog.

“What’s the matter?” Ty asked.
“My wallet,” Farrell replied. “My wallet is gone.”
That was when he remembered that he had left his wallet on his desk at

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work. He had taken it from his pants to look for his cell phone, but he had
forgotten to put it back in. He felt relief and melancholy fill his stomach all
at once. If his wallet had been stolen, things would be a whole lot worse.
Unfortunately, he had no other way to pay for food, and the office was
locked after six, so the closest thing that he and Ty had to eat was the mold in
the vegetable drawer.

He grimaced and shared a glance with Ty. Ty shrugged and said, “It’s

okay. I’m not really hungry anyway.”

At that moment, Ty’s stomach gurgled. Farrell felt his heart pound harder

with guilt. Starving himself because of a stupid mistake was one thing, but
starving a kid? He had to be more careful. His mistakes weren’t just weighing
down on himself anymore. They were weighing on Ty too.

Just as Farrell turned to scavenge the fridge in case the mold had decided

to magically sprout something edible, there was the sound of banging on the
wall and loud laughter in the hallway. Farrell looked up, wondering if it was
their noisy neighbors next door. He exchanged a look with Ty, who had been
opening drawers with a hopeful look on his face.

Farrell was shocked when his doorbell rang. He moved to open it, but Ty

was faster.

Ty opened the door and said, “Hello.”
The high-pitched tone at the other side of the threshold was familiar. It

was Lisa. “Oh my goodness! Farrell has the cutest son in the world. You
must be Ty. Farrell was talking about how wonderful you are all day.”

As Farrell raced around the corner, he noted that Ty’s face was beet red.

Lisa had unceremoniously hugged him and was petting his head as if he was
a dog or a newborn baby. Behind Lisa were two other people from the office,
and at their side was Toyo, who looked more like he would rather be in the
fiery pits of hell than at Farrell’s door after work hours.

“Hello, Lisa,” Farrell said weakly. He wondered whether Toyo had

decided to torture him after hours too. Maybe they needed someone to bring
drinks. “What are you doing here?”

“Missing something?” Lisa asked, tossing Farrell his wallet. Immediately,

he felt bad for thinking terrible things about her. She had just saved Ty from

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a night of starvation. Relief filled his stomach.

“Thank you so much.”
“Well . . .” Lisa said, elbowing Toyo in the ribs. At that moment, Farrell

got the impression that Lisa and Toyo were very close. “We just figured that
you needed it.”

Lisa had finally stopped petting Ty’s head, and he scampered backward

and hid behind Farrell. Farrell couldn’t blame him. If Lisa had had him in a
headlock, then he would have wanted to run away as fast as possible too.

As Ty trembled, Lisa peered inside of his apartment without being

invited. She appeared very curious. The others behind her looked
uncomfortable barging into somebody’s home, and he could respect them for
understanding that this was his private space.

Toyo appeared to understand. Either that or he wanted to get away as fast

as absolutely possible. He grabbed on to Lisa’s arm and started tugging her
away with the other employees behind him. Farrell and Ty watched them go,
and once Farrell had shut the door, they both let out sighs of relief.

Ty said, “That woman was weird and kind of scary.”
“Yeah,” Farrell said, his mind still on Toyo, “but at least we can have food

now, huh?”

After that, Ty did not respond. Farrell headed over to a drawer and took

out his phone book, and then he began searching for nearby pizza places. At
his old apartment, he had had a pizza place that he always ordered from, but
here, he didn’t know about anything around. He would have to start over
anew.

“What do you say about a pepperoni and mushroom with extra cheese?”

Farrell asked, running his finger down the list.

Ty ignored the question about pizza and went right for the heart of the

matter. “Why does that man seem to dislike you?”

Farrell spluttered. He couldn’t help it. Ty was looking up at him with big,

glistening eyes. Was it that obvious that Toyo dislikes me? Farrell wondered. He
thought about the way Toyo’s upper lip had curled over his bottom one when
he saw Farrell coming. Yes, he thought. It really is.

“I was not very nice in high school,” Farrell said to Ty solemnly. “He was

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one of my victims. Now, he hates me.”

“You’re lying,” Ty said. “You’re the nicest person that I’ve ever met.

You’re even nicer than my grandma, and she was amazing.”

Farrell smiled sadly. “People change with time.”
For a moment Ty was silent as Farrell ordered their pizza. After that, Ty

took his place next to Farrell at the counter and peered at him out of  the
corner of  his eye. The only thing that could be heard was the distant ticking
of  the broken clock that was permanently stuck between six and seven.

“Why were you mean?” Ty asked him.
“Because I was scared,” Farrell responded. “I was scared and didn’t know

how to deal with it, that’s why.”

“My mom . . .” Ty said. “I think that my mom is scared too.”
Farrell thought about it. “Yeah, I’m guessing that she is.”

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Chapter Six

After the weekend, Farrell went to work feeling cranky and restless. He

had contemplated calling in sick, but was planning to save those days for
when he really, really needed it—like when he was actually physically ill, and
not just mentally.

Everyone greeted him when he came in to work, except for Toyo, who

ignored him as though he was a grease stain on the floor. Several people
noticed this and whispered about it when Toyo’s back was turned. Farrell
didn’t take part in their gossiping, though some people asked him questions.

Several clients came in that morning, but it was slow compared to their

old office. Farrell didn’t have much to do between scheduling meetings and
taking phone calls. He had even talked to a telemarketer for an extra eighteen
minutes just to pass the time. If  he would have known that he wouldn’t be
booked all day, then he would have brought something else to do. Already at
home he had a stack of  paperwork that asked questions about getting Ty
enrolled in school, half  of  which he didn’t know the answer to. Ty’s mother
had left him with a hell of  a burden.

Halfway through the day, everything changed. Toyo came storming out

of his office looking red-faced and angry. Farrell glanced upward in shock,
wondering what had caused Toyo to appear so malicious. He had been
flirting with the girls five minutes ago, but now Farrell was at his mercy.

“You incorrectly scheduled our multimillion-dollar client,” Toyo said,

standing before Farrell with his jaw twitching again. “I swear that God put
you on this planet just to fuck with my head. You did it on purpose, didn’t
you? That’s your new plan, isn’t it? You can’t find something to make fun of
me for, so now you’re going to do it this way instead? Well, I’m the boss now,
and—”

Farrell felt hot in the face as all the workers popped their heads from out

of their offices to watch. His stomach felt like a bubbling cauldron as he
flipped through the schedule books. There hadn’t even been any calls about a
meeting with a big-name client. Toyo is using this as an excuse to fire me, Farrell
thought, horrified. Like hell I’m going to let him get away with it, at least without a

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fight.

“I can’t believe you would sink this low!” Farrell spluttered, standing up

and staring down Toyo. It was a lot harder than it used to be. Toyo once had
been short, but now Farrell only came up to his chest. “I apologized to you
about the way I used to be! I was dumb in high school! Yet you would find
some way to frame me so that you can get rid of me? I told you that I would
quit when I walked in here and saw you, but now you won’t even allow me to
have my five-year work history when I look for another job. Asshole.”

Farrell bent down and began to gather his things. His hands were

shaking, and he was breathing heavily. From the very beginning, he should
have known better than to even try working here with Toyo. There was too
much history between them. The worst part was, though, that Farrell couldn’t
honestly blame Toyo. Farrell had really been the worst kind of selfish ass.

As Farrell straightened up, Toyo’s strong hand grabbed his arm and held

him still. Both of them looked at each other, Farrell struggling and Toyo
hanging on. The two of them continued this for several moments, until
Farrell finally gave up. Toyo was bigger than him. There was no way that he
could win.

Both of them were choking on words when Lisa sheepishly walked

forward from where she had been eavesdropping. Her cheeks were a
fluorescent pink. She turned toward Toyo and said, “It was me, Toyo. Don’t
you remember? I was working the secretary desk until Farrell was sent to us. I
remember the call now because I forgot to write down the time of the
meeting . . . It was right before my lunch with a client, and I had some
information to present.”

Everyone was silent for a moment. Toyo finally loosened his grip, and

Farrell withdrew his arm with a hiss. At that moment, he felt bad for Toyo,
even though he would have a bruise on his arm the next morning. There was
no way that Toyo would ever talk to Lisa the way that he had talked to Farrell,
and it was going to make him look like an unfair bigot.

“Oh. Right,” Toyo said. “Farrell wouldn’t have been around yet.”
Lisa nodded her head abashedly.
“Okay, we can reschedule,” Toyo said. “Farrell, get on that right away.”

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“But shouldn’t I just leave—”
“No,” Toyo interrupted. “Don’t go. It was our mistake, not yours. Now

get back to work before I do have a reason to fire you.”

Farrell watched Toyo walk away. The moment that the door clicked

closed behind him, everyone erupted into dramatic whispers. The only thing
that Farrell could do, though, was stand still and shake his head. He couldn’t
believe that this had happened. He did have a temper, but he should have
known better other than to raise his voice to his boss.

His heart was still pounding when Lisa grabbed his arm and caused him

to jump. When he turned toward her, her eyes were apologetic. Though he
was still shaky, he had to respect her for taking her share of the blame in the
situation. It couldn’t have been easy, with Toyo acting like an angry buffalo.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Lisa said. She hesitated. “I was right, wasn’t

I? You two do know each other somehow.”

“He hates me,” Farrell sighed.
“No, he doesn’t,” Lisa said. “Listen. I know him really well. We’ve been

friends since college. I think that he doesn’t want to like you. Not wanting to
like someone and actually not liking them are completely different things.”

“I don’t know about that . . .”
Lisa smiled. “Haven’t you ever loved somebody so much that it hurt, but

they don’t feel the same? Then you want to hate them, because they caused
you to hurt?”

He immediately thought about his parents. He had loved them an

incredible amount. All that he had ever wanted was to make them happy, but
he had ended up making them upset merely because he was who he was.
That had hurt.

But he found it hard to believe that Toyo felt that way toward him. They

weren’t family, and they most certainly had never been friends. If anything,
they had been enemies. He couldn’t imagine Toyo feeling much other than
loathing and pain when he looked at him. He knew that whenever Toyo’s
eyes met his, it must have been a reminder of all of the times that he had said
something cruel and heartless.

“You should talk to him, you know,” Lisa said. “I mean, I don’t really

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know what’s going on, but I don’t think that we can work in this kind of
environment. The others are probably terrified of Toyo now.”

“I already tried to talk to him,” Farrell replied grumpily.
“Well, then, do it again,” Lisa said, grabbing his arm and forcing him

toward Toyo’s door before he could stop it. “Come on. Toyo won’t bite you.”

Farrell would like to say that the reason Lisa managed to get him to

Toyo’s office door was because he had only halfheartedly fought, but that
wasn’t the truth at all. Lisa, a one-hundred-and-forty-pound girl, had easily
been able to force him. After that, she knocked for him too, leaving no room
for escape.

After that, Toyo said, “Come in.”
When Farrell made an effort to step away, Lisa shoved him forward

again. He finally gave in, pushing open the door and stepping inside. He was
shocked by what he found there. It wasn’t an office like Warren’s had been,
with no feeling whatsoever. Toyo had an office that had feeling.

There was a picture of his family on the wall, his mother incredibly thin

and his father very heavy. They grinned into the camera with Toyo in the
middle and two daughters at their sides. Toyo wore a large grin and had a
spark in his eyes that Farrell had never seen in high school or at work.

Beside his tribute to his family, Toyo had pictures of advertisements

everywhere, which shouldn’t have been so surprising because they worked in
an ad agency. Maybe Warren had been the weird one, being so cold and
unfeeling even in his own office. If Farrell hadn’t had such a bad past with
Toyo, then he would have felt much more at ease here than he ever would
have at his old job.

“I designed those ads,” Toyo said to him, sounding guarded.
“Really?” Farrell said, equally stiff. “They’re amazing. I remember seeing

that beer billboard on the highway.”

“It was my college project,” Toyo said.
“Oh,” Farrell said. “Well, it looks like you definitely made a name for

yourself. That’s really amazing, Toyo. Good for you.”

Both of them were silent for a moment. Farrell had yet to look Toyo in

the eye. There were a thousand excuses that he could have given for not

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doing so, but the honest-to-God truth was that he was terrified. Toyo had a
lot of power over him, and he could make Farrell’s life miserable if he
wanted to.

Toyo finally cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “Okay, Farrell. Why

are you here?”

“I work here,” Farrell said defensively. He was so on edge that he hadn’t

realized that he had answered the wrong question until it was too late.

“I meant in my office,” Toyo said. “You see, I have work to do too,

and—”

Farrell interrupted, “I think we both know why I’m in here—well, Lisa

should take most of  the blame. I didn’t want to come in . . . Anyway, I think
that it might be better if  we both acknowledge that we do have a history
together and come to some sort of  work-oriented compromise.”

Toyo sighed. Farrell looked up and saw that he wore a depressed

expression on his face that Farrell recognized. It was enough to make him
sick to his stomach. Probably Toyo didn’t look like that unless Farrell was
around.

“Have a seat, then,” Toyo responded, pointing toward the squishy black

chair in front of the desk. “Let’s get this over with.”

Nervously, Farrell sat in the seat pin rod straight. He moved around in

the chair and tried to get comfortable, but nothing helped. He wouldn’t have
been more self-conscious if he had had a full bladder and was constipated.

“I really wish that I could take it all back,” Farrell said. “I mean, what I

did in high school.”

Toyo examined him with dark brown eyes. It was the first time that

Farrell realized how beautiful they were. Beneath his hair, his eyes appeared
to smolder. Farrell’s heart started to pound loudly in his chest, even though
he tried to fight it. I am not getting a thing for Toyo, he thought. Why do I always get
the hots for men that want to throw me down a flight of stairs?

“I won’t pretend that having you here isn’t hard on me, Farrell,” Toyo

admitted. “Very, very hard. I had low self-esteem for many years because of
your heckling. I even tried to kill myself.”

If Farrell could have vomited then, he would have. Still, he shouldn’t

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have expected anything less. He wished that he could change so many things
in his life. Maybe that way, he wouldn’t be sitting where he was now, so
confused and lost and using a small child just to have a companion. Maybe he
really was still a terrible person.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Farrell said.
“When you came here, I didn’t think that there was a way that you could

have changed, but apparently you have,” Toyo said. “I’ve been watching you.
In fact, you remind me a lot of how I was in high school, which has softened
the edge of your arrival a little.”

“Eh?” Farrell asked, wide-eyed. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on,” Toyo said, leaning backward in his chair and crossing his

arms. “Typical business class in college—Communications. You act like a dog
with its tail between its legs, just like I did. You did stand up against me, but
you never acted like you expected to win.”

The guilt and pity that Farrell had been feeling vanished and were

replaced by anger and, honestly, more confusion. Did he really look that way?
Did people see him walking down the street and go, “Well, there’s somebody that
can be kicked around”? That idea absolutely horrified him.

“I do not act like that!” Farrell said. “I thought that we were going to

talk, not fight.”

Toyo chuckled. “I was just making an observation, but I think that I hit a

sore spot, didn’t I?”

Deep down, Farrell was tempted to give Toyo the finger and say, “Observe

this!” but he fought it. He didn’t think that it was the best negotiating
technique. No wonder he had lost so many fights with his parents. The
moment that his luck was down, he didn’t appeal to logic. He appealed to
swearing and thrashing.

We are obviously not going to get along on a personal level, concluded Farrell,

shaking his head. Toyo looked like he was thinking something along the same
lines, because he was shaking his head as well. At least they hadn’t screamed
at each other in the last ten minutes.

“Okay,” Toyo said. “I think that we should be able to maintain a

professional relationship now that we are on the same level. I will do my best

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not to be a terrible and manipulative boss—no matter how much I want to
be—toward you.”

Farrell shot him a look and sniffed.
“I want you, Farrell, to do me a favor, though,” Toyo said.
“Okay,” Farrell replied. “That’s fine, I think.”
What did Toyo want him to do? Maybe he would have him dress

strangely, so he didn’t look like he used to. He tried to picture himself
wearing a redheaded wig and failed. He looked at Toyo anxiously, awaiting
the verdict.

“Please don’t tell anyone about our history together,” Toyo said. “I

worked hard to get a handle on my self-esteem and my issues with my
weight. I don’t want anyone to know about that. I want a fresh, clean start.
Can you handle that?”

Immediately, Farrell relaxed. When it came to keeping his mouth shut, he

was the best. He nodded, and Toyo began to look much calmer. His jaw had
even stopped twitching.

As Farrell stood up, preparing to leave the office to get back to his

secretarial duties, he paused before he opened the door and said, “For what
it’s worth, Toyo, I think that you are absolutely amazing. You’ve really made
something of yourself, and you look fantastic too. I really respect you for
that.”

Toyo was silent. He looked as though he didn’t know what to say. Farrell

scurried out the door and shut it tight behind him.

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Chapter Seven

The phone rang loudly, startling Farrell. He rarely got calls, and he

instantly expected a telemarketer. Farrell stopped stirring the spaghetti sauce
and padded over to the phone, pressing it to his ear without a single bit of
thought. On the other end of the line, though, he heard a voice that he didn’t
want to hear: Pam. It was Ty’s mother.

“Farrell!” Pam cried. “You have no idea how hard I’ve been trying to

reach you. How is my son doing?”

“Pam,” he said, “how did you find me?”
“Allen had your number. Figures. The moment that he knows that I don’t

have his fucking son, he picks up the phone,” Pam muttered. “What were you
doing, moving away with my boy, anyway? He’s still my son, you know. Can I
talk to him?”

His stomach sunk horribly as he mulled over her words: “He’s still my son,

you know.” She was right. Ty wasn’t really his child—he was just a son that was
on loan. It was a horrible way to think, but he knew that it was the truth.
When push came to shove, Ty wasn’t really his. Ty belonged to Pam and
Allen.

He told Pam to wait a moment and padded over to Ty. When he looked

up from his television show, his face immediately paled when he saw the
serious expression on Farrell’s face. Farrell could hardly get the words out
and choked.

“It’s your mother,” he said. “She wants to talk with you.”
“My mother,” Ty said dully.
“Yes,” Farrell replied.
After that, Ty slid from the couch and padded toward the kitchen and

picked up the phone. He pressed the phone to his ear and talked in a quiet,
though hopeful, voice. Farrell ran his hand through his hair and went to his
bedroom and stood there silently, all alone. He was scared again, this time of
losing Ty. He also wondered how Allen had gotten his phone number. He
had had it changed when he moved.

As he paced, a shadow graced the threshold of his room. Ty entered

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without knocking. He was pale and solemn, too much so for a little kid.

“The spaghetti is boiling,” Ty said.
Farrell couldn’t take it. Right now, it didn’t even matter if the spaghetti

was doing backflips. He had to know what Pam had said. “How’s your mom,
Ty? What is she doing?”

“She’s thinking of starting a business over there,” Ty said.
“That’s good,” Farrell said stiffly. “Good for her. Maybe she’ll make a

name for herself and everything will be fine!”

“With my mom, it’s hard to say,” Ty said. “She’s the type that starts

something and then never finishes it. Next week she may be into something
completely different.”

Farrell’s stomach was filled with relief, as terrible as it was. He didn’t want

Ty to be taken away from him. As much as Ty needed him, he needed Ty as
well. Now that he had no lover and no family, it was like he was a lonely log
floating in a stream.

As he reached forward to tousle Ty’s hair, there was the sound of

something sizzling. After that, the smell of smoke filled the air. Both of them
ran toward the kitchen and skidded to a halt.

Farrell stuck his spoon into the spaghetti sauce and tried to stir it. At the

bottom of the pan, a thick cake of meat had congealed, and even when he
pushed at it hard, it wouldn’t come off. When Farrell withdrew the spoon, Ty
grimaced.

“All of a sudden, I think I have a stomachache,” Ty said, examining the

sauce.

“Who wants Chinese?”
Both of them started laughing.

* * * *

During his free time at work, Farrell sketched. He had never been

particularly good at it, at least according to his parents, but he enjoyed doing
it and could keep it up for hours.

Lisa had taken to watching him a lot, even when she should have been

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working. Farrell had no idea why. It made him very uncomfortable, and he
did whatever he could to shake her off, even if it meant taking a lot of trips
to the bathroom that he didn’t really need. Sometimes he would “go out to
lunch” just to leave the office so that she wouldn’t hang by his desk all the
time.

It was on a day like this when Farrell was contemplating doing just that.

He had his peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his desk drawer, but he didn’t
want Lisa to hover. She was like a shadow that loved to talk.

“You really are talented,” Lisa was saying. “I’m surprised that you’ve

never taken classes or anything. I wish that I could do something like that—”

“Listen, Lisa,” he said. “I’m going out to lunch today.”
“That’s funny,” Lisa said happily. “So are we—me and Toyo, I mean. Why

don’t you come with us? We can go to that new restaurant down the street. It
has this really good French cuisine that’s to die for . . . Well, I’ve never been,
but that’s what my friends have all told me. I can’t wait to go.”

Farrell’s face felt hot. This was his own fault. He had managed to get

roped into going to lunch with her, even when he had a perfectly good one
tucked in his drawer. On top of that, Toyo was coming too. Why didn’t Lisa
invite his parents and Allen, and then he could have his own dining place in
hell?

“French cuisine sounds expensive,” he said, scrambling to get his

bearings straight after being hit hard by her response. “I was thinking more
along the lines of a cheap food place, like sandwiches or something. It’s
much better for me, anyway.”

“Oh, come on,” Lisa said. “I’m sure that Toyo doesn’t mind splurging the

petty cash just this once.”

As if summoned by her words, Toyo was suddenly hovering over Lisa’s

shoulder. Farrell looked both ways. Where had Toyo come from? Had he
been listening to their conversation? He grimaced, holding his pen in his
hand so hard that his knuckle turned white.

“Leave it be, Lisa,” Toyo said. “Farrell doesn’t want to come.”
Thank you, Toyo, Farrell thought, smiling. Lisa got all teary-eyed, and

Farrell felt his stomach get hit by a bus of guilt. He wasn’t good with crying.

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His mother had never been the type who wept easily, so he never had to deal
with it at home. He shot a frightened look at Toyo, who shrugged his
shoulders and looked the other way.

I’ve been had, Farrell thought, shaking his head. He looked at Lisa, who

now was sticking out her bottom lip. He secretly wondered how old Lisa was.
She was behaving like a five-year-old. Normally, Ty acted better than her.

“Fine,” Farrell said begrudgingly. “I’ll go with you guys.”
Toyo grimaced, but didn’t say anything more.
“That’s great!” Lisa cried, stopping her crying at once. She was stringing

both Farrell and Ty along as if they were fish on a hook. “Come along, then.
We only have an hour before we have to get back.”

They walked to the French restaurant, which was small and had big

windows. The inside of  it had round tables that seated many couples who
were drinking wine, even though it was only one o’clock. One of  these duos
was making out. Farrell instantly stopped, looking from Toyo to Lisa. Didn’t
they want to be alone? This wasn’t the sort of  place that someone took a
third wheel.

As soon as he stopped, Lisa grabbed him by his arm and started steering

him inside. Toyo followed behind them both with his hands in his pockets. It
didn’t take long for the hostess to seat them at a table by the window, and
they could peer out at the dirty street side that didn’t fit “le magnifique”
France.

Farrell scanned the menu and felt relieved that the prices weren’t as

astronomical as he had originally assumed. As he browsed, Lisa chattered
away about how she was going to get wine, even though she was at work.
Toyo, who probably should have said something against this, was dead silent
and had a tight jaw again.

But that was when it happened . . .
Right after they had ordered their drinks, the waiter tripped over a

misplaced chair and dumped Lisa’s afternoon wine right down her silk
blouse. She jumped to her feet and shrieked, her eyes wide. Both Farrell and
Toyo were rigid, completely unsure of what to do. The waiter who had
dumped the drink on her was stumbling through apologies.

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“Madam, I am so sorry,” the waiter was saying. “It was an accident. I’ll

pay for the dry-cleaning bill.”

“This was a fifty-dollar shirt!” cried Lisa. “I want to talk to your

manager.”

“I am the manager, madam. I own this place.”
There was silence after that. Lisa inhaled sharply several times, then sent

a look at Farrell, who had no idea what he was supposed to do. He wasn’t
going to yell at the waiter, even though the man had made a bad mistake.
After high school, he had tried his hand at being a waiter, and he had spilled a
drink once or twice, so he could understand his pain.

“Okay,” Lisa said. “I suppose that’s okay . . .”
“Here, madam,” the waiter said, handing Lisa a twenty-dollar bill from

his own pocket. “Please accept my apology. Your meal, and everyone else’s at
your table, is free today.”

The waiter stumbled away ashen-faced. Farrell knew that he was probably

kicking himself right now. It was terrible that he was taking more pity on the
fortysomething waiter/storeowner than he was on Lisa, but it was the way he
felt. At least Lisa now had enough money to fix the problem. That waiter
would probably be embarrassed for a week, and no twenty-dollar bill would
make that better.

Farrell glanced back at Toyo, but he had an unreadable expression on his

face. Toyo said to Lisa, “Maybe we should just go.”

“No, no!” Lisa said, trying to be chipper, but sounding high-pitched and

twitchy instead. “Here’s what I’m going to do. There’s a clothing store two
doors down that sells button-up shirts. I’ll just use the money and buy one
real fast and be back in time to eat. At least we get free food now, right? I’ll
be right back. Just order me—oh man, what do I want?—the chicken
antipasto, okay? Extra cheese?”

Before Farrell could tell her that he would rather just leave, Lisa was

already out of earshot. Farrell heard the couple in the corner giggle, and he
felt heat climb up his face as a woman looked him straight in the eye. Lisa
had turned them into a spectacle, and she had left them to man the show.

Farrell dropped his voice. “I don’t understand why we couldn’t just leave.

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This is humiliating.”

Toyo replied, “Because she has a crush on you, that’s why. She’s been

pretty desperate to get you to come out. Don’t tell me that you missed the
nasty look that she sent me when I whispered to her. I told her that I wasn’t
canceling and that I was coming.”

At the time, Farrell had been crunching on a piece of ice to calm his

nervousness and immediately started to choke. He couldn’t believe this. Lisa
had a crush on him? How on earth was he going to tell her that he was gay?
He knew that she would tell Toyo and the rest of the workers. A lot of men
who were straight avoided him when they found out.

“I didn’t see you two whisper.” Farrell gasped for air. “I didn’t know that,

either. Oh man . . .”

He hit his head on the table.
For the first time, Toyo really laughed. Even in all of his misery, Farrell

felt something deep in his stomach at that moment. Toyo had the brightest,
most gorgeous teeth that he had ever seen. He also had a real laugh, the kind
that came from the gut and couldn’t be faked. His heart sped up and his eyes
blurred as butterflies danced in his stomach. No, he thought, but he couldn’t
fight down the tingling.

“I take it that you don’t return the feelings?” Toyo asked after he was

done laughing.

“Feelings?” Farrell said, face getting hot. “What feelings?”
“Lisa’s feelings, you idiot,” Toyo said, giving him a funny look. “Are you

okay? Your face is beet red. Don’t tell me that a girl has never told you that
they have a thing for you before. In high school, you were quite popular.”

Yeah, he thought, I know. In high school, he had been just like Allen. He

had jumped from one girl to the next, uncomfortable with his own sexuality
so much that he was willing to make himself, and the poor girl he was with at
the time, miserable. Every time he had had sex, he imagined men. It was the
only way he could get hard.

Speaking of getting hard . . . he thought. He looked down. During his

contemplation of his high school shenanigans, the idea of Toyo naked had
gotten stuck in his mind. Immediately he cleared his throat and crossed his

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legs. He shifted back and forth so uncomfortably that Toyo raised his
eyebrow.

“You know what,” Toyo finally said, noticing that something was wrong

with Farrell, “let’s just leave and get a sandwich. I shouldn’t be breaking my
diet for this, anyway.”

“What about Lisa?” Farrell asked, leaping to his feet and using his hands

as a visual shield.

“I’ll text her,” Toyo said. “She can’t yell at me that way.”
Farrell gave a false chuckle. Normally, he would have laughed outright at

the joke, but he was sporting a hell of a problem. The whole walk back, he
had his hand clasped over his penis, praying to God that Toyo didn’t look
down at him.

As they entered the office forty-five minutes too early, all of the

remaining people eating their lunch peeked out at them in curiosity before
they returned to social networking and yogurt slurping. Farrell went off  to
the bathroom and sighed in relief  when he noted that nobody was in there.
He headed toward one of  the three empty stalls and unfastened his pants,
putting his hand against the wall.

Don’t think of Toyo, he thought. Even think of Allen, but not Toyo. He tried as

hard as he could. He pictured every porn imaginable, and when that did not
work, he moved on to actors he loved. That didn’t help either. His mind, and
apparently his dick, wanted Toyo, and there was nothing that he could do to
stop it.

He shut his eyes, picturing the way it would feel if Toyo was on his knees

before him, sucking him off. His fingers moved over his balls and ran upward
toward his tip. Toyo would be all about the tongue, flicking over him again
and again. Farrell groaned, gripping the wall in pleasure.

After that, Toyo would move on and push Farrell’s cock into his mouth

deeper and deeper. Toyo would get Farrell’s penis so deep in his throat that
he would be shocked. This made Farrell shut his eyes tight, and he worked at
himself harder and harder, imagining Toyo doing this again and again. It felt
so good that he could hardly stand it.

He came as, in his mind, Toyo gave him one long, sensuous lick. Farrell

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Chapter Eight

Ty whined, “Why do I have to stay with the neighbors tonight? They

smell funny, and they watch weird game shows when I want to watch
cartoons.”

Farrell grinned weakly. The reason why you have to go to the neighbors is because I

have to get laid, he thought. Call me Mr. Irresponsible, but even I have got to take care
of myself sometimes. He couldn’t tell Ty that, though. He was too young to
understand what happened when hormones rampaged.

Instead, he told a lie. “Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson miss having kids around,

and they would really like it if you spent the night with them. Remember how
she always brings us nice sweets and cakes? Well, imagine what dinner is
going to be like. Plus, I’m sure that she’ll let you watch cartoons. She has a
granddaughter that’s your age, remember? She’s going to bring her over, and
you might make a new friend.”

“I’m not two,” Ty said grumpily, narrowing his eyes at him. “You don’t

have to talk to me like that. I know when you’re trying to get rid of me, you
know.”

Farrell hit his forehead with his hand. Of all the kids he had to adopt, it

had to be the most intuitive one on the face of the planet.

“That is so not true,” Farrell lied again. “Why would I want to get rid of

you? I love you. I’ve just got to do adult things.”

“Adult things . . .” Ty said. “I hate adult things. Mom always said stuff like

that. Fine, then. You’ll come get me in the morning?”

“Of course I’ll come get you in the morning,” Farrell said. “It’s just for

one night, okay? Don’t think of things in a bad way. I’m sure that they don’t
have bloodstains on their walls.”

Ty smiled weakly. “They better not, or you won’t be doing many adult

things tonight—and I’ll call for a later bedtime.”

Farrell looked at him solemnly. “If they have bloodstains on their walls,

I’ll let you watch cartoons late at night for the rest of the week.”

A sparkle came into Ty’s eyes that made Farrell think that he was secretly

praying for bloodstains. Farrell shook his head and walked Ty to the

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neighbors, who were eighty-something years old and plump and happy and
funny. Farrell had talked to them a few times when he came home with Ty,
and once he saw them with their granddaughter, Clara. They had told Farrell
that they had moved out of their town house to be closer to their kids, who
had a house down the road, and that they would watch Ty anytime that he
wanted because they missed having a lively household.

Farrell had never thought that he would be taking them up on their offer,

but this past week, he had been jacking off  in the work bathroom
continuously, trying to calm himself  down. No other guy had ever made him
this sexually passionate before. It was as if  Toyo was setting off  some sort of
“fuck me” pheromone, and he was catching whiffs of  it whenever he was
downwind.

He decided that it wasn’t his fault. It was the fact that he hadn’t had sex

in over six months. Even though he had been in a relationship with Allen, he
hadn’t been in the mood because Allen had always been sullen and angry
with him. Some may have enjoyed angry sex, but Farrell wasn’t one of them.

After Farrell had gathered his things to head to the bar, he felt a tinge of

nervousness. He hadn’t been in the single world for a few years, so he hoped
that he had what it took. Allen had often told him he was boring in bed, and
that had definitely made him feel sick to his stomach and desperate to prove
himself. Farrell could only hope that Allen wasn’t correct.

As he entered a gay bar that smelled heavily of smoke and alcohol, he sat

down and took a drink. There were many men in here, but mostly they were
not his type. He preferred taller guys who had a more muscular build. A lot
of men here were too scrawny, which was ironic, because he was scrawny
himself.

He took one drink and then another and another. Still, no one caught his

eye, and he was starting to get desperate. He knew that it was terrible of  him,
but he wanted sex badly, if  only to forget about Toyo. Never before had he
been a person who was a fan of  “sex for the sake of  sex,” but Toyo had
changed his game plan.

Three hours and far too many drinks later, he was getting up to leave

when he ran chest first into a man who was just his type. He hadn’t exactly

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planned to head butt his potential partner, but it worked all the same—the
man swore, backed away several feet, and took a look at Farrell.

“I’m so sorry,” Farrell said. “I’m tipsy and wasn’t paying attention.”
The man grinned while holding his nose. He was big, muscular, and had

skin as tan as the outer layer of  a coconut. When he smiled, his straight white
teeth glimmered. He was wearing a shirt that showed off  his muscles and a
pair of  jeans that curved over his perfect butt. Perfect to forget about Toyo, Farrell
thought, eyes wide, as he sized him up.

The man replied, “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t really paying much

attention either. I was just getting ready to leave myself. There wasn’t much
action around here, until I ran into you.”

Immediately, Farrell smiled. He sidled forward and tried a maneuver that

Allen had used to get him back from the bar years ago. With a sexy cat-that-
got-the-canary grin, he said, “Well, why don’t we run into each other back at
my place?”

* * * *

It wasn’t working. As Charles grabbed ahold of him and kissed him

passionately, running his tongue over Farrell’s teeth, Farrell imagined Toyo
doing the same thing. He was getting hard, but not for the reasons that he
wanted to be. Don’t think of Toyo, he thought, tearing off his shirt and tossing
it to his bedroom floor. Do not think of Toyo, whatever the hell you do.

It didn’t help that Charles looked a lot like Toyo, though much tanner. He

was muscular, had a smile that was crooked, and had dark blond hair. From
behind, he could be Toyo. Farrell tried hard not to think of this as Charles
kissed his way down his naked chest, licking the dark patch of hair above his
pants.

“God,” Farrell said, falling back onto his bed as Charles followed soon

after. “Come on, Charles. Faster.”

“Faster, huh?” Charles said, laughing. “You really are hard up to be

ridden, aren’t you? That’s okay. It’s sexy as hell.”

Farrell raised an eyebrow. Allen had once told him that it was revolting.

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“It is?”

Charles just laughed at him again, shaking his head before giving Farrell

another hard kiss.

As Farrell shut his eyes and ran his hands up Charles’s T-shirt, he felt the

hard muscles there and imagined the way that Toyo’s body would ripple with
power over top of him. It was only when Charles broke away, pulling his
tongue out of Farrell’s mouth with a slurp, that he looked into his eyes and
knew that he was not the person that he wanted to be with. It was much
easier when Charles began to unsnap Farrell’s jeans with his head ducked.

“You’ve got a big one, don’t you?” Charles said, grinning as he removed

Farrell’s pants and underwear and began to tug them down his legs. “I’m a
little shocked, considering how skinny you are.”

Farrell grinned. “Why can’t someone who’s skinny have a big penis?”
Once again, Charles just laughed. Farrell suddenly felt a tingle of

annoyance and played it off with a smile. In that brief moment, he had
shrunk a little. No, he thought, looking at Charles’s dark head and getting
sucked into visions of Toyo once more. That was all it took to regain his loss.

Charles threw off his shirt and revealed a six-pack and biceps that

glistened in the lamplight. Farrell had to admit that he was very impressed.
He then took in the dark patch of hair at the waistband of Charles’s jeans
and grinned. Charles yanked down his pants, revealing a dick that was not
nearly as impressive as his ass.

“What’s the matter?” Charles asked, watching Farrell freeze. “You’re that

impressed?”

“Oh, yeah,” Farrell replied.
As Charles loomed over him and lay on top, Farrell felt Charles’s penis

come in contact with his leg. He couldn’t help but think, I wonder how big Toyo
is? Lying back, he shut his eyes and gave in to letting thoughts of Toyo
overwhelm him. There was no use fighting it now, he realized. He liked Toyo.
There was no hope for their romance, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t
daydream about him.

Charles leaned in to kiss him, but when he pulled away, Farrell felt

himself growing weary of the real man who was on top of him. It was at

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that moment that Charles took one of his fingers and shoved it up Farrell’s
ass, making him lift and groan. He couldn’t help but imagine Toyo doing that
with the same grin that he had worn the day at the restaurant when Farrell
had gotten his hard-on.

“It’s been a while, huh?” Charles asked, fingering him. “You’re awfully

tight up there.”

“Yeah,” Farrell said, and then he flopped onto his stomach. “Do me

from behind, okay? I like it from behind.”

Though Charles greedily made a noise out of the back of his throat,

Farrell ignored him. He didn’t really like being taken from behind. It was nice
to make eye contact during each thrust so that he could tell if his partner was
having a good time. He didn’t want to be making eye contact with Charles,
though. He wanted to be making it with Toyo.

Charles began to thrust two fingers into him, then three. It had been such

a long time since he had had sex that it was sharp and painful at first. He
even had to grip on to the headboard to keep himself steady. Charles
uncapped a tube of lotion that he had brought with him to the bar and
shoved even more, hitting Farrell’s special spot that he loved so much.

Shutting his eyes, Farrell felt Charles push into him again and again. It

felt good, but it felt even better when he imagined Toyo doing the thrusting.
Toyo always wore a concentrated look on his face. Would he wear such a look
when he was shoving himself inside of someone, or would it be different?

Farrell buried himself in the pillows and breathed sharply, moaning out

Toyo’s name, but biting down on feathery casing to stop himself. He couldn’t
let Charles hear what he was doing, even if it was just a one-night stand.

As Farrell groaned with every shove, Charles pulled on a condom and

thrust into him with his cock, sending Farrell against the pillows even more.
He bit into the pillows even harder, thinking, Toyo, Toyo, Toyo, the entire time.
Charles then came inside him, hard.

Farrell lay on the pillows and breathed heavily, sweat running down his

face. Charles lay next to him, wrapping his arm around Farrell’s back as he
did so. It was at this moment, as Farrell stared at the ceiling with Charles
nuzzling his shoulder, that he knew that he was in very big trouble.

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Chapter Nine

The next morning, Charles left at seven o’clock, and Farrell went to go

get Ty before he went to work. As Ty exited Mrs. Ferguson’s apartment, he
bounced up and down like a small puppy before hugging Farrell tight. It was
at times like these that Farrell was reminded that Ty really was a little kid after
all.

“I take it that you had fun, then,” Farrell said smugly.
Ty grinned. “Yeah, Mrs. Ferguson made this really yummy lasagna. Unlike

you, she didn’t burn the meat. And afterward, her granddaughter came to
play. She’s really pretty, you know. She has this really bright blonde hair.”

Farrell looked down at him and grinned. “Really pretty, huh? So you’re

seeing her again, are you? Going to take her out to dinner?”

After that, Ty flushed beet red and wouldn’t talk about it anymore. As

Farrell dropped Ty off, he felt bad about teasing him, but he couldn’t help it.
Puppy love was so innocent. It was hard to imagine that his “son” was falling
in love with some girl over pieces of lasagna, while he was having sex with a
guy he didn’t know the last name of. I really shouldn't do things like that, he
thought, climbing into the bus that would take him to work.

He just felt so lonely. It was hard to climb into a bed every night and

know that chances were good that nobody would ever sleep next to him.
That was why he had stuck with Allen for so long. He hadn’t loved Allen, not
enough to have had that kind of relationship with him, but he was so scared
of having no one . . . After all, if his own parents couldn’t love him, then
who else would?

These thoughts subdued him until the bus stopped in front of his office

and he clambered out the door to head inside. As he put his briefcase down,
he saw that Toyo was talking to Lisa and two other workers while laughing
really hard. After last night, Farrell could not look Toyo in the eye. He knew
that Toyo would be disgusted if he ever found out. Who would want their
old enemy masturbating to their image? It was hard to imagine that, years
earlier, Farrell had been cruel and harsh to Toyo, but now he was sitting in
the bathroom during lunch break jacking off to his image. Life definitely

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hadn’t turned out the way he had planned it.

Farrell sat down and said a silent thank-you to God as Toyo passed him

by and went into his office without glancing away. Strangely, though, he was
also disappointed. Love very rarely made sense, but this was more confusing
than anything he had ever experienced before.

He was still staring at Toyo’s door when a very pretty woman with

shoulder-length black hair walked up to his desk and smiled at him. Her eyes
were a piercing blue, and she had lipstick that was the color of blood. Farrell,
startled, immediately jumped and managed to bang his funny bone against
the desk. The woman smiled apologetically.

“Hello,” she said. “I have a meeting with Toyo Hayashi for nine o’clock.

I’m a little early. I guess I got a little overexcited.”

“Oh, no problem,” Farrell said. “I’ll go get him for you. Just wait here a

moment, and they’ll get the conference room set up—”

“What’s this?” the woman asked.
She had her hand on one of Farrell’s lunchtime doodles. Immediately he

flushed dark red and made a grab for it, but she ignored his motion
completely and continued to gaze at it. The picture had merely been of a
man making a slam dunk. Farrell had been thinking of Ty’s favorite cartoon,
which was about a basketball player named Rex.

“This is really good,” the woman said, eyeballing it.
“Oh, no,” Farrell said, nervously going around the desk and studying it.

“It’s a really bad drawing, actually. You don’t want that.”

The woman chuckled. “Are you usually this nervous, Mr. Secretary?”
“Um,” Farrell said, not sure what to say to that. “Listen, I’m going to go

get Toyo. It’ll be just a second, Miss . . . ?”

“Nielson,” the woman finished for him. “Miss Candace Nielson. Pleased

to meet you.”

After bobbing his head, he scurried off to go to Toyo’s office. He didn’t

even bother to knock this time and just burst inside, startling Toyo so much
that he leaped out of his seat and swore loudly. Toyo shot him a look that
was sour enough to curdle milk after that.

“Is there a particular reason why you decided to do that?” Toyo asked. “I

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usually ask my employees to knock, or at least not to run like small children,
when entering my office.”

“There’s a woman out there for the nine o’clock meeting,” Farrell said.

“Miss Candace Nielson.”

“Right,” Toyo said, grabbing papers off his desk. “Why are you looking

so nervous? She’s only half an hour early.”

It was after he heard those words, “Why are you looking so nervous?” that he

was knocked back to reality. Suddenly, last night came rushing back too. Not
only was he worried about the woman who was leafing through his drawings,
but he also labored under the irrational fear that Toyo would see through the
fact that he had had sex while thinking of him.

He gulped. “No reason. No reason at all. I just thought that you should

know as soon as possible. It’s not nice to make a client wait, after all.”

Toyo studied him and then shook his head. “You can take a sick day, if

you’re ill. You look like you’re running a fever or something. Here. Let me
check.”

Before Farrell could even think, Toyo stepped forward and pressed his

hand against Farrell’s forehead. Toyo’s hand was cool against his hot skin, but
that may have been because he was so embarrassed that he wanted to melt
into his shoes. His face hadn’t been this heated since he had gone to Las
Vegas and forgotten to apply suntan lotion.

Toyo dropped his hand from Farrell’s forehead and moved down to his

cheek. Farrell tore his eyes away from the floor and looked up at him, his
mouth gaping. Why isn’t he saying anything? he wondered. Please, please let him say
something.

When Toyo didn’t, Farrell knew that it was up to him. He opened his

mouth, expelling air, and said, “Toyo, I—”

“Isn’t this cozy?” said a female voice. Farrell and Toyo looked over and

saw Candace standing at the door with her arms over her ample bosom.
“Toyo, you naughty boy, what are you doing at work?”

Though Farrell turned, if possible, even redder, Toyo stepped away and

growled, “Like I would ever do that. You’re early, Candace.”

“I am,” Candace replied, stepping past Farrell. “It looks like you weren’t

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working very hard, though.”

Toyo grimaced. “I’ll call in the others. Farrell, shouldn’t you get back to

work? If that phone rings and nobody answers it, I’m the one that’s going to
get toasted by Warren.”

Farrell laid eyes on some of the papers that were tucked under Candace’s

arm—they were his. She had taken some of his drawings, the ones that
others weren’t meant to see. They had merely been ridiculous doodles to pass
the time. Was she going to try to get him fired? Was she going to tell Toyo
that he had been slacking off? She didn’t even know him.

“But, I—”
Toyo gave him a hard look. “Farrell, get back to your desk. You’re a hard

worker. Don’t make me write you up.”

“Yes, sir,” Farrell said anxiously, turning around.
He returned to his desk and answered the phones halfheartedly. Once,

someone called, and he botched up the appointment time, making it so that
he had to call back and stammer through an apology. That was very unlike
him. He may have been embarrassed easily, but he rarely had trouble with his
work ethic, regardless of what his parents’ choice words had been for him
before he left.

After an hour, Candace and Toyo walked together from the conference

room, deep in discussion. Toyo appeared to be upset about something
because he was red-faced, and he was arguing loudly. That was definitely a
rarity, because Toyo rarely fought with anyone, save Farrell.

Candace approached the desk with Farrell’s drawing tucked underneath

her arm, and she stopped in front of him and grinned. That was when he
laid eyes on what had been done to his doodle. Candace and the artist team
had turned Farrell’s work into a logo for her energy drink. Immediately, his
mouth dropped opened, and he expelled a squeak. His artwork, a logo? This
couldn’t be happening. That was the type of thing that happened only to
lucky people, not him.

“I really liked the design,” Candace explained. “I want you to be my logo

artist for this account. Will you do it?”

“But this is a multimillion-dollar advertising campaign,” Farrell

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stammered. “I don’t have a degree in art or anything else. That was just a
doodle. It wasn’t meant to appear on your drinks.”

Candace chuckled. “You really are a nervous one, aren’t you? Well, as I

was telling Toyo, I don’t care about a degree nearly as much as competence,
and you’ve just shown me good artwork. This is the design I want for my
cans. Toyo and I were just discussing it, right, Toyo?”

To this, Farrell made a sour face at Toyo and inwardly begged him, No,

no. Don’t let her do this. Many would have given their left leg, or at least a finger,
to be appointed to such a position, especially a seasoned artist. His design
would appear on cans across the United States and possibly, if Candace’s
product sold well enough, in Europe as well.

But that was why he didn’t want this.
He felt like an amateur, and when he looked at the picture that Candace

was holding, it looked like a mess of lines to him. What was it she saw when
she looked at it that made her want it so badly? If he couldn’t see the beauty
in it, then would everyone else fail to as well? His stomach clenched painfully.

“I guess . . . that’s it, then,” Farrell finally said.
Candace leaned forward and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “That’s right.

It’s a great picture. Don’t worry so much. I’ll be by in a few days. Schedule
me on Wednesday. I want you in the conference room this time, though. I
can’t be leaving my artist out of the detail work, can I?”

After they had scheduled the meeting, Farrell watched Candace leave with

his mouth wide open. Toyo was standing stiffly by Farrell’s desk, and when
Farrell looked over, he was not surprised when he saw that his jaw was
twitching again. This is not my fault this time, he thought. I didn’t ask her to use my
picture.

“I am so, so sorry,” Farrell said to him. “I had no idea that she was going

to grab the pictures like that. I don’t know why she wants them. They’re
terrible.”

“No, actually,” Toyo said, “they were quite good. I approved of her

suggestion right away. I had no idea that you could draw like that.”

Farrell’s face immediately lit on fire. If Toyo had approved it, then Farrell

had no idea why he appeared so angry. Had he been anyone else, like Lisa, or

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even Candace, he wouldn’t have been so afraid to ask. When Toyo wore an
expression like he was, though, Farrell got the sensation that he was about to
be tossed underneath an eighteen-wheeler.

“Are you . . . okay?” he asked gently. “If everything is really fine, then

why are you so angry?”

“My God,” Toyo said, looking at Farrell, “she’s right. You never used to

be like this. Just because I’m angry at something doesn’t mean that it’s your
fault, you know?”

“You’re not angry at me?” Farrell asked, eyes wide.
“Of course not! You just earned yourself a place in a multimillion-dollar

account. That means that even our secretary is incredible.”

For a minute, he considered this, and then he turned red again and

started digging underneath his desk.

* * * *

Charles and Farrell had a strange relationship. They weren’t together in

any way except sexually, at least in Farrell’s mind anyway. It wasn’t all that
different from his relationship with Allen: Farrell was lonely and wanted
somebody, anybody, to take him away, and it just so happened that Charles was
after the same thing.

The only different was, though, that this time Farrell had to be careful.

He never met Charles when Ty would catch them. Whenever Ty went to his
friend’s house, Farrell would call Charles in for a quickie, then boot him out
the door before he got busted. It was embarrassing for him to be this way,
but he needed the release. Chances were good that Farrell would throw away
all of the progress he had made with Toyo if he suddenly started humping
his leg during a conference meeting.

It was on a day like this, when Ty was out at the Fergusons having lunch

with their granddaughter, when he called Charles over. There was a reason
why he had Charles on speed dial.

On the third ring, Charles picked up and said, “Hello?”
“This is Farrell. Got a minute? I need you.”

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Charles chuckled. “God, I don’t know why I put up with you. You’re a

total sexaholic.”

“So you aren’t coming?” Farrell asked, looking down and seeing a raging

hard-on that was between his legs. He would need a serious cold shower, or
at least some good time on the computer, to get rid of it. “Damn.”

“I never said I wasn’t coming over,” Charles said. “You know, I’m glad

I’ve met you. I’ve had less sex in all of my real relationships put together
than I’ve had with you. You’re really something.”

Farrell was shutting his eyes, imagining Toyo naked. It was hard to do

that completely with Charles chatting in his ear.

He said, “That’s nice. Come over quickly.”
After that, he hung up and started removing his shirt. There was no use

going slowly. He wanted Charles to come in, literally and figuratively, and
then leave. He could do without the foreplay. He was already horny enough.

As he was just about to unbuckle his slacks, there was the sound of

pounding on his door—heavy pounding. Farrell wandered over and checked
the peephole, but the person wasn’t standing directly in front of his door. He
looked down, seeing the tent in his pants. It was pronounced, but maybe if
he stood behind the door when he opened it, the person wouldn’t see.

He opened the door a quarter of an inch, peering outside. That was

when a hand rammed itself  between the door and the frame, throwing him
backward in surprise. Maybe, had he not been caught off  guard, he would
have been able to fight away the person in front of  him, but it was too late.
He was on the floor, and he was nowhere near ready to brawl.

He looked up, wondering if he was about to be burglarized during the

most awkward time in the world, and saw that it was Allen. He looked
terrible. He had day-old growth on his jaw, and his eyes had pits underneath
them. There was also the smell of alcohol about him that was so strong that
it overwhelmed Farrell from where he lay.

“Allen,” Farrell said, staggering to his feet. “Holy shit. What are you

doing here? How did you find me? And why did you send Ty’s mother here?”

“I came here . . .” Allen said, hiccupping and getting a dazed expression

on his face. He must have forgotten what he had wanted to say, because he

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restarted talking again at the beginning. “I came here to fuck you. You’re
coming back home with me.”

“No,” Farrell said, standing up as Allen shut the door behind him. “And

you’re drunk again, you idiot. Get out of my apartment this instant. I don’t
want you here.”

Allen grabbed him by his shoulder and shook him. Then after that, he

reached forward and hit him straight in the face with his fist. There were
twinkle lights in Farrell’s eyes as he fell backward onto his butt, and he shook
his head before standing up. He held his cell phone in his hand, prepared to
call for help.

“Get the fuck out of my apartment, Allen,” Farrell said. “I’m serious. I’m

calling the cops to come get you.”

“You wouldn’t do that.” Allen hiccupped. “You love me.”
“No, not anymore. Not in the right way.”
The door behind Allen was shoved open, and Charles stood there,

wearing a pair of leather pants and a leather jacket. Charles already had a
hard-on, but his penis was so small that it barely caused a tent in his pants.
He looked from Farrell to Allen and said, “I’ve never had a three-way before,
but I’m willing to start now.”

At that moment, Allen turned around to examine Charles closely, and

Farrell leaned forward and shoved him straight out the door and onto the
threshold, where he writhed like a fish out of water. Allen was sweating,
spitting, and swearing as Farrell watched through the peephole.

As Charles stared at the door and said, “I’ll come back later, okay?”

Farrell was overwhelmed by his own stupidity.

I was willing to have sex with a guy as dumb as Charles? Farrell thought. And

what is going to happen now that Allen knows where I live? What if he hurts Ty?

That night, he slept at the foot of Ty’s bed to make sure that he stayed

safe.

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Chapter Ten

“My God, Farrell, you look exhausted,” Lisa said, “and Toyo is making

you stay late to discuss your logo as well? That is just cruel. What are you
doing with Ty?”

“My neighbor is picking him up,” Farrell said, rubbing the tiredness from

his eyes. “And I know I look like hell, because I certainly feel like it.”

Lisa looked sympathetic and then tried to weasel information out of him,

but he wouldn’t say a word. Finally, she was forced to leave after Toyo called
Farrell into his office. Farrell felt a familiar jump of nervousness in his
stomach, but it was much easier to squelch when he had other thoughts on
his mind—like Ty, Allen, and Charles. He was under so much pressure that
he felt as if he might shatter.

When he stumbled into Toyo’s office and took a seat, Toyo raised an

eyebrow at him. Farrell ignored the look and was grateful when he did not
pursue it further. After all, Farrell knew that he especially didn’t want to tell
Toyo what was going on. Toyo would think that he was a fruitcake.

“All right,” Toyo said, swiveling around and looking at his computer.

“Have you ever used this design program before? You’re going to need it to
work on your logo. I was going to have someone that knew graphic design
come in and fix up your logo, but Candace insisted that you do it yourself, so
I’m going to show you how.”

“Okay,” Farrell said, feeling nervous. Why did Candace expect his doodle

to turn into a work of art when he’d never even touched a graphic art system
before? Da Vinci didn’t turn into Da Vinci after one night.

“Get over here,” Toyo said, clicking on one of the many small boxes on

the left-hand side of his screen. “Look over my shoulder, and I’ll show you
what to do.”

Farrell leaned over him and found it very difficult to look at the screen.

He didn’t know how Toyo did it, but he smelled very sweet and sexy. His eyes
watered at the thought. Before he realized what he was doing, he was staring
at Toyo instead of at the computer screen. He scarcely noticed that Toyo had
summoned his scanned doodle from a file on his computer and was currently

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putting in darker lines.

“So you can use this tool to darken the lines—and I’m going to warn you

that it’s a major pain in the ass—and you can also use this”—Toyo pointed at
the screen—“to heighten the color that you’ve already put on. This art
program is worth hundreds of dollars to purchase . . .”

A layer of freckles that he had never noticed before dusted Toyo’s nose.

They were lovely. Farrell also noticed that Toyo had lips that were full and
delicious for sucking. From far away, the dark day-old growth that Toyo often
had over his jaw kept him from noticing it.

“. . . and is a great thing to use once you get the hang of it. The only

problem with the program is that it’s so complicated that it’s going to take
you many hours of  practice in order to get it right. I know that you have a
kid at home, so I’m going to allow you to forgo your secretary duties and will
teach you the workings of  the program during the day. Lisa is good at
answering the phone, though apparently not very credible at keeping track of
appointments, so we’ll have to make do for now. I doubt that Warren will pay
for someone . . .”

Toyo, even through his suit, had the muscle tone of a working ox.

Timidly, Farrell placed his hand on Toyo’s shoulder under the pretense that
he was looking at his logo, when instead he just wanted to feel the strength
of his shoulder. It was incredible. Farrell half wanted to jump Toyo’s bones,
even though chances were good that he would be beaten up for even trying
it. Hitting on straight men was against his code, especially in the case of this
straight man. Toyo is off-limits, he thought. He doesn’t want you. Heck, he just barely
stopped hating you. You need to back off now!

“. . . new to come in to work for us, even if you technically are doing two

jobs,” Toyo said. “Farrell, what are you looking at?”

The two of them locked eyes. Farrell’s mind was screaming, Answer him!

Answer him! Instead, he just stood there staring at Toyo, two inches away from
meeting him with a kiss, and he found that he could no longer breathe. Toyo,
though, was breathing heavily, and was exhaling sweet-smelling breath all
over him.

After a moment of waiting, Toyo placed his hand on Farrell’s shoulder

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and held it there. Farrell expected to be shoved away and almost opened his
mouth to apologize for his serious invasion of personal space. That was
when Toyo closed the distance between the two of them and kissed him with
enough strength that it hurt.

Farrell went rigid for a moment, uncertain that he wasn’t actually

dreaming. The only thing that broke through his thoughts was when Toyo
nipped at his bottom lip. With a roaring lion of passion in his chest, he
leaned forward to deepen the kiss when there was a loud banging sound
from behind them. They both leaped apart guiltily in surprise.

That was when a familiar figure darkened the doorway: Lisa. For a

second, Farrell feared that she had seen them kissing, but she trotted in the
same as she usually did except that now she had three large Styrofoam boxes
on her arm. She was grinning from ear to ear, but her smile swiftly faded
when she looked from one of their faces to the other.

“Are you okay?” Lisa asked. “You both look a little red.”
“Oh, no!” Farrell said squeakily, knowing that he sounded false even to

himself. “Not at all. Toyo was just showing me . . . some stuff.”

Lisa looked at Toyo pointedly, who had yet to say anything and was rigid

in his seat. For a moment Farrell thought that he saw a look of  disgust upon
Toyo’s face, and he couldn’t help but feel insulted. Had he been that bad of  a
kisser? Worse yet, had Farrell merely inspired a reaction after years and years
of  kissing women? He wanted Lisa to leave so much that he had to physically
restrain himself  from pulling her out of  the room.

Toyo said, “Like Farrell said, I was just showing him something. What are

you doing here?”

Lisa didn’t respond to his question and said, “You two weren’t looking at

porn in here, were you? If  you’re going to do stuff  like that, then you should
at least do it at home. You can get into a lot of  trouble if  you’re looking up
that kind of  thing on the work computers, you know . . .”

After that, Farrell let out a large, fake, boisterous laugh and clapped Toyo

on the shoulder, signaling that he should do the same. The two of them
continued that way for quite some time, until Lisa looked appeased. After
that, she dished out two large meals to both of them, though neither of them

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actually ate anything.

* * * *

In the end, Lisa never did leave them alone. She stayed with them

through Farrell’s entire tutorial, and she completely ignored the dark stare
that Toyo gave her. Though before Farrell had found her existence to be
tolerable, he now was filled with dark, simmering annoyance. He wished that
he could talk to Toyo and clear up this whole mess, or at least make
something happen between them.

That evening, as he tried to sleep, he kept tossing and turning and feeling

sick to his stomach. What if  he did it because I was too close? What if  he feels the
same way that I do? Worse yet, what if  he doesn’t? How is this going to play out at work
tomorrow? His stomach churned so much that he felt as though he had the
stomach flu. Never once, in his entire life, had he ever experienced such a
topsy-turvy of  emotions, not even when his parents had chucked him from
the house.

Another thing that filled his mind was the kiss. He had never experienced

anything like it. Though he had been treated roughly before with Allen, he
had never been kissed so roughly and so tenderly at the same time. It was like
a sweet-and-sour candy. If a kiss had intoxicated him this much, then the sex
would be amazing.

He shut his eyes, feeling sweat run down his back. Already, he was getting

hard. He thought of Toyo thrusting inside of him roughly again and again,
his full lips sucking on his neck as he did so. Only after Farrell had wrapped
his hand around his cock and rubbed himself until he came did he finally fall
asleep.

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Chapter Eleven

The next day, he was called into Toyo’s office first thing. Lisa sent him an

inquiring look, but he ignored her. He was too busy trying to fight down the
fear and excitement that was so strong he had to fight the urge to vomit.

When he entered Toyo’s office, he was overwhelmed by the memories of

last night and their passionate kiss. He could still taste Toyo’s sweet breath on
his, and he longed to do more, even with the full staff  outside. Though
Farrell knew that it was in no way possible, the image of  himself  leaning over
the desk with Toyo thrusting inside of  him was hard to ignore.

As Farrell studied the room, Toyo broke through his thoughts by saying,

“Shut the door and sit down, Farrell.”

Farrell did as he was told. He hoped that the door was soundproof. Lisa

was the type who would press her ear to the crack in order to know what was
going on.

After Farrell had sat down, Toyo swiveled in his chair to face him, but he

did not look him in the eye. He’s embarrassed, thought Farrell. As far as he had
seen, embarrassment was not a good sign.

“Toyo, about last night—”
“That’s why I’ve called you in here, Farrell,” Toyo said. “I don’t know

exactly what went on between us last night, but I don’t want to talk about it
again after today. Do you understand me?”

Farrell felt his heart beat harder in his chest. Before he could stop it,

disappointment hit him like a rock. This wasn’t the beginnings of “lover
talk.” For a moment, Farrell opened his mouth, almost telling Toyo his true
feelings, but he stopped himself. Toyo wanted to bury his head in the sand,
and Farrell knew better than to try to pull him out of it.

“So basically . . .”
“Basically,” Toyo said, “I’m sorry that I did it. Yes, I prefer men, and I

apologize because I forced myself on you—”

Farrell opened his mouth to say something, but was once again

interrupted.

“But I have no intention of doing something ever, ever again of the sort,”

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Toyo said, looking him square in the eye in a way that left nothing out.

Farrell chose to keep his mouth closed after all. What more could he say?

It didn’t matter whether or not he was gay. It was obvious that Toyo wanted
nothing to begin between them. I find it so hard to believe that the same guy that I
made fun of in high school is now rejecting me, he thought, hanging his head.

Farrell said, “I guess that’s it then, isn’t it?”
Toyo responded, “Yes, it is. Good job on the logo, by the way. I look

forward to more hard work on your part.”

Though he should have thanked him for the compliment, Farrell was too

depressed to say anything more.

He stumbled out of the office and over to his new desk, where he was

supposed to be enhancing Candace’s logo, but in reality he was tinkering
around. To add insult to injury, Lisa trotted over and started talking to him.
If Farrell was a meaner guy, then he would have asked her whether she ever
actually worked. Instead he gritted his teeth and kept his mouth shut, making
wishes to God that she’d get a job transfer.

Just as he decided to get started on really working, the phone rang at the

secretary’s desk. Lisa had moved only a fraction of an inch, so he walked past
her and headed over to the phone.

“Hello, Warren and Frank Advertising. How may I direct your call?”
“Farrell, I need to talk to you.”
It was Allen. Why was he calling, especially at work? How did Allen even

know his work phone number? He felt sick to his stomach. This day couldn’t
have gotten any worse if a robber came in and shot him in the stomach.

“Allen, what are you doing?” he hissed quietly. “I cannot talk to you. You

need to leave me alone. Don’t call me at work. In fact, don’t call me at all. We
are not getting back together.”

“You won’t even hear me out.” Allen hiccupped on the other end of the

phone.

“Are you drunk?” Farrell asked in disgust, holding the phone farther away

from his ear as if the smell of alcohol was tangible even through the receiver.

“No, I’m not.” Allen hiccupped again. “I can’t believe that you cheated

on me with that guy, Farrell. I cannot believe it.”

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“Good-bye, Allen.”
Farrell hung up the phone and stared at the receiver. How bad could a

day get? Not only had he gotten rejected, but he’d also gotten a call from the
world’s worst ex-boyfriend. He grimaced and headed back to his seat to stare
at an empty screen. This was going to be a hard day.

* * * *
Ty sat next to him watching television. Farrell wasn’t too excited by what

was on, but he stared at it numbly, wishing that he could wash his feelings
away completely. If it wasn’t for Ty, then he wouldn’t even bother to try. Ty
was incredible.

“You seem sad,” Ty commented, watching the television unblinkingly.
“I’m not,” Farrell lied, staring at the screen too. “You’re just being

sensitive. Don’t worry about it.”

“You are sad,” Ty responded.
After that, Ty leaned over and snuggled up against him. Farrell sniffled

before he could stop himself, and teardrops trickled all the way down from
his face and onto his shirt. He wished that he could be stronger for Ty, but
he couldn’t. Maybe he had always been weak. That was probably why his
parents disliked him so much.

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Chapter Twelve

It had been awkward between them ever since that day. Toyo sat in front

of him, showing him the screen, but they were not alone. In fact, they never
were anymore. Even now, Lisa and the graphic artist stood behind them,
talking. Farrell did his best to focus on them and not the smell of Toyo’s
clothing. Even now, it was intoxicating, more so than any drug.

When Farrell pushed his hand against Toyo’s shoulder to get a closer

look, Toyo hissed as if he was poisoned and shoved Farrell back. The others
didn’t notice, but hurt coiled in his stomach like an angry snake. He began to
hate Toyo because he liked him so much. Every time that Toyo shoved him
away, every time that he made Farrell feel unwanted, it was ten times worse
than with anyone else because it was Toyo doing the hating. Standing with his
arms crossed was all that he could do to keep from grabbing Toyo and
shaking him until his teeth clacked together.

After the meeting was over, Lisa said, “Why don’t you come with us to

get a drink, Farrell? It will be a lot of fun.”

Farrell took one frightened glance at Toyo, who was hanging back, and

shook his head. If he didn’t go, then Toyo could. Farrell had to take care of
Ty, anyway. That was the only way that he could get out of this ridiculous rut
that he was in. He decided no more Charles, no more Allen. He didn’t need
sex to beat this bug.

“Ah,” Lisa said, “come on.”
“No, I really don’t want to,” Farrell said, turning around and walking

away to grab his things. Though he was aware that he had been rude, he
didn’t care. He wanted to get away from Toyo, and he had a feeling that Toyo
wanted to get away from him.

Just as he was about to leave completely, the graphic artist scurried over

and grabbed his arm. The graphic artist’s name was Tim—or maybe it was
Ted. Farrell did not know him well enough to say for sure. Farrell turned
around and opened his mouth to say something, but Tim cut him off and
whispered, “I thought that I should warn you about something. Tomorrow,
we’re going to have a special client coming. He’s been here twice before.”

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“A special client?” Farrell asked, eyebrow raised. “But to everybody else

but Candace, I’m just the secretary. Why tell me?”

“Because he’s—well—he’s—” Tim looked both ways to make sure that

nobody was looking at him. Farrell couldn’t help himself. He was curious, so
he leaned closer. “He hits on a few of the guys when he gets here. It’s really
uncomfortable, actually. From what the girls say, you’re a pretty good-looking
guy. I wanted to make sure that you were warned to stay away from him, or
else . . .”

Though Farrell knew that this jibe wasn’t aimed at him, he felt a sting of

fear and pain. He ripped his arm away from Tim before he could stop
himself and stumbled backward. Is this what Tim thought about gay people?
That they were something to whisper at or gossip about? He did his best to
smile after Tim gave him a surprised look, but he felt hard and cold toward
him.

“I don’t think that the client’s sexual orientation is any of our business,”

Farrell said steadily. “I appreciate the warning, though.”

“Sure,” Tim said, still examining Farrell warily.
After that, Farrell turned around and left the office, feeling queasy. He

nearly ran to the bus stop, even though he knew that it would not help his
ride get there any faster. By the time he arrived home with Ty in tow, he felt
so relieved that seeing his apartment was about as releasing as stepping into a
hot sauna. Ty must have felt the same, because he slumped onto the couch
first thing and turned on a television show that Farrell had to work hard to
tune out.

Just as Farrell had started making dinner, the phone rang. He stared at it

seriously and was debating the merits of just letting it go unanswered, but it
was persistent. Finally, after the twentieth ring, he stumbled over and
answered it. It was, to his horror, Ty’s mother. She had worse timing than the
devil. He half thought that she planned it according to his bad days.

“Took you long enough,” Pam said after they greeted each other. “What

were you doing, anyway?”

“Cooking dinner for the two of us,” Farrell said, stirring the noodles on

the stove and nervously looking at Ty from over top of the steam. Ty didn’t

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appear to notice that Farrell was talking to his mother. Though he felt guilty
about it, this time he didn’t feel any urge to enlighten him.

“Ah,” Pam said, “I see. Well, I’ve got good news.”
“What’s that?” Farrell asked.
“I’ve got a great job here, and I want to come get Ty!” Pam said happily

on the other end of the phone. “It’ll take me a few weeks, but I’ll be back.
On top of that, I have money to pay you off for your trouble. I might finally
be able to support Ty better and not dump him on other people all the time.
Oh, you should see my office. It’s fantastic. I may finally have found my real
home.”

His heart pounded in his chest. Pam was coming to get Ty? Farrell felt his

throat tighten, and he clamped his hand over his mouth to keep from
bursting. Already, he felt as though Ty was his son. Ty even called him
“Dad!” to everybody around. He had thought—and honestly hoped—that
Pam would not be back and that she would keep her long-distance
relationship. An estranged mother was a terrible thing to wish on anyone,
especially since Ty deserved to be with his real family, but he couldn’t deny
his true feelings, even if they were terrible.

On top of that, what if Pam gave up on Ty again? What if she dumped

him on some terrible stranger who molested him or beat him up? It
happened all the time. Being molested could change a person and make them
sick inside.

“I don’t have a problem with Ty staying here,” Farrell said, not realizing

that his voice was getting squeaky with panic. “Why don’t you stay there, see
how things go for a couple of months?”

Pam was silent for a few moments. “He’s my son. I know that I dumped

him on you and am real sorry about that, but he’s my son. I’ll be back for
him.”

Farrell hissed quietly, “You dump him on a total stranger. How can a

good mother do that? You are going to be fine with him for a few months
and then leave him again. He’s an incredible, smart, amazing kid, and he
deserves better than this.”

Once again, there was silence. Pam then said, “I’m glad that I left him

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with you. You really love him. Look, it’s not the end of the world, okay?
You’ve had him for only a couple of weeks. I’ll let him come visit you
anytime that he wants—”

“But you’ll live halfway around the world, practically!” Farrell cried.
“Then I’ll give him airfare!” Pam cried. “And New York is not halfway

around the world. It’s only half a continent."

“You would honestly give him airfare?” Farrell said, exasperated. “Please,

think this through. Think of your son and his needs.”

“No time,” Pam interrupted.
That was when Farrell heard a loud shriek in the background of the call,

and then there were several large giggles. Pam said something loudly, and
more laugher ensued. He stared, appalled, at the steak that he was cooking as
if it was the meat’s fault that Pam was so irresponsible.

By the time that she came back on the line, Pam sounded breathless and

excited.

“Okay, so, I’ll be down in a couple of weeks to come get Ty,” Pam said

happily. “Sorry about the interruption. They are some of my helpers. You
know how wild it gets with teenage girls.”

Farrell looked at Ty’s head from over the couch and felt his stomach

tumble. If someone was going to explain that Ty was going to have to leave,
then it was going to be Pam. Farrell didn’t have the heart to do it to Ty after
he had begun to love him so much.

“You need to tell Ty,” Farrell said.
Suddenly, Pam sounded dead serious and said, “I can’t do it now. Sorry,

Farrell. Anyway, I’ll be down in a few weeks and will explain it all then. Bye-
bye.”

There was a click and then nothing. Farrell stared openmouthed at the

phone and was half tempted to throw it across the room in a fit of rage, but
he calmed himself down for the sake of Ty. He exhaled deeply three times.

Farrell padded over to the couch, wondering why Ty had not picked up

on the fact that something was wrong. Normally, he was extraordinarily
intuitive and could sense problems faster than Farrell could explain the
situation. As he looked over at Ty, he felt his heart get crushed even more so:

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Ty was asleep.

Snoring softly, Ty had his legs curved underneath him with his head

along the squishy pillows. Though he had cartoons on, he slept right through
them. Tears filled Farrell’s eyes at the thought of never seeing Ty like this
again. He leaned downward, sniffling, and gave him a kiss on his forehead.

Farrell whispered, “I love you, Ty.”
In his sleep, Ty murmured, “I love you too . . . Farrell . . .”
Farrell ran to the bathroom and vomited.

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Chapter Thirteen

Farrell went to work the next day so tired and worn down that he had

dark shadows underneath his eyes. His lips had also looked gray when he
looked in the mirror that morning. To cover up his exhaustion, he had
disguised his face with concealer that he had gotten when he had had an
awful and embarrassing rash the year before.

At least now he looked less like a zombie.
He stumbled into the office and was shocked by the scurrying of the

men around him. That was when he remembered the warning of  the graphic
artist and knew what was going on. He can’t be that bad of  a flirt, can he? Farrell
wondered. A boss can get sexual harassment charges, even if  it’s against another man.

As Farrell put his briefcase on his desk, he felt his heart speed up as he

was waved over by Toyo. Don’t, he warned himself. Remember, Toyo is off-limits.
He marched over, putting on an air of confidence, but in reality, he still felt
queasy after the shock from last night. He wondered whether he could ask
Toyo to let him go home early, but then he realized that it wouldn’t be
appropriate. Toyo would automatically assume that the reason he was leaving
was because of the client coming in.

Toyo scrutinized him as he walked up. “I’m sure that you know that today

we are having a special client. I normally try to keep men out of  the way of
him, but unfortunately, he’s a personal friend of  Candace, who has been
raving about you. It looks like you’ll be a part of  this meeting.”

“Is he really that bad?” Farrell asked nervously.
For a moment Toyo hesitated. “I’m not really his type, so I would say no.

When he thinks that someone’s attractive, though, they’d better watch out.
The entire meeting is shot to hell. I wouldn’t normally work with him, but he
brings in a ton of money even though he’s strange. We’re not the only
business that has trouble with his professionalism at work.”

Says the man that kissed me in the back office, Farrell thought bitterly. This office

could use a lot less professionalism, if you ask me. After that, he swung his arm
down and hit himself on the leg. It was retribution for thinking such a stupid
thing. He was supposed to be getting over Toyo and thinking about what he

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was going to do about Ty. Toyo did not want him. He was going to have to
deal with that.

Toyo raised an eyebrow and said, “Are you okay? You look sick or

something.”

“I’m fine,” hissed Farrell. An expression of surprise crossed Toyo’s face,

and Farrell realized that he had just thrown a verbal ax straight at his boss. “I
mean, I’m fine. Let’s just focus on the meeting.”

“You’re right,” Toyo replied stiffly.
After that, Farrell went back to his desk to wait.
At nine o’clock, the elevator door opened, and a man stepped out.

Immediately afterward, the male population of the office seemed to have
dropped significantly percent, because Farrell could not see any other men in
sight. Farrell nervously focused on the man who was walking out the door,
trying to see what was so bad about him.

Farrell was very much surprised by the client. For some reason, he had

imagined him built much like Toyo—strong and powerful and fierce. Instead,
the client had lean muscle and was thin and very tall. He also had thick red
hair, sharp blue eyes, and an almost transparent goatee.

Toyo came out to greet the client immediately, and then he waved Farrell

over. Farrell nervously stepped forward, and when the client met his eyes, a
mischievous smirk crossed his face. Still, Farrell did not falter. He extended
his hand like he would have with anyone else.

“Farrell, this is Mr. Zane Tompson, CEO of Lincoln’s Best Tar

Removal,” said Toyo. “Zane, this is Farrell.”

Zane reached forward and grasped his hand, holding it sensuously within

his grasp. Zane’s fingers moved in seductive circles over Farrell’s palm, and
he could not help himself—he blushed. After that, he was torn between
tearing his hand away or just waiting for Zane to finish playing with him.

After Zane had done this for more than a few seconds, Farrell gave a

frightened look at Toyo. Toyo looked as though somebody had kicked him
straight in the balls: his face was pale, he was wringing his hands, and his jaw
was so tight that Farrell could once again see it twitching.

“Please let go of Farrell’s hand, Zane,” Toyo said with a more forceful

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tone than a boss would normally use toward a multimillion-dollar client.
“Come on, Farrell. I want you to sit next to me, so that way I can show you
the proceedings.”

Farrell gave a nervous glance at Zane, who was following them both with

a bemused expression on his face. This was the first time that Farrell ever
had to cover his ass, because he had a sneaking suspicion that Zane was
imagining him butt naked.

They sat at the table, and Farrell made sure to sit next to Toyo, as

specified. Zane sat directly across from Farrell, and Lisa and two other
women came into the room. Lisa looked horrified that her crush was being
molested.

After they had sat down, Farrell thought that he was safe. He was dead

wrong. The moment that Toyo started talking, Farrell felt a foot massage his
own. The foot had on a warm, thick sock with soft fabric. He tried to back
away, but found that, even if he tucked his feet underneath his seat, the
distance beneath the table would not save him. Zane was just too tall.

Farrell was too busy trying to protect himself from the exploratory foot

that he hadn’t noticed he’d been asked a question. To recapture Farrell’s
attention, Toyo grabbed his arm, and he let out a squeak.

“Sir?” Farrell asked nervously, feeling the toe creep up his left thigh. He

wriggled.

“Farrell, just pay attention,” Toyo said.
That was when Zane’s foot hit the worst zone of all. Zane, being so tall,

managed to get his foot up in the air in order to massage his penis without
any trouble at all. The moment that Farrell felt Zane’s foot make contact, he
pushed himself away from the table and fell backward onto the floor with a
loud thud.

Toyo must have gotten a glimpse of what Zane had been doing to him,

because his mouth got thinner than Farrell had ever seen it. After that, Toyo
helped him to his feet and shot Zane a look worthy of death. Toyo grabbed a
hold of Farrell’s arm and led him from the room without an explanation,
heads turning their way all the while.

They went into the men’s room. Farrell thought that he was finally safe,

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and his shoulders slumped in relief.

That was when Toyo hissed, “Farrell, you’ve got to stop letting him touch

you. Just get away from him.”

“Me!” Farrell said, shoving Toyo away from him. “Damn it, Toyo. Do

you honestly think that this was my fault? The guy was trying to feel me up
with his sock, and it’s me who’s causing the problem? God. Get a grip.”

Farrell turned around to leave, not sure where his destination was. With a

rough hand, Toyo grabbed him and hauled him backward.

“Don’t,” Toyo said. “I don’t like it when I see Zane do that to you. I’m

doing my best to protect you, but don’t—”

Farrell raised his voice. “This sounds more like a personal problem than

it does a professional problem, Toyo. You don’t like when you see that guy
touch me. You don’t like it when he does those things to me. Well, maybe I
like it, you asshole.”

“You aren’t making sense!” Toyo yelled, getting red in the face. “A few

minutes ago, you were lying on the floor, trying to get away from him. You
were just complaining that I’m blaming you. Well, now I have a reason to
blame you, don’t I? You want to go to town with that guy under the
conference table.”

“I said maybe, you pompous ass,” Farrell said. “Now you let go of me! I

can fuck whoever I want after work hours, can’t I? You can blame that on
yourself, too. You’re the one that doesn’t want me, remember?”

Both of them stared at each other. Farrell wasn’t sure when the

conversation had turned from Zane to the two of  them. Toyo made a sound
out of  the back of  his throat and released him, and Farrell ripped his arm
away, turning around to head back to the meeting. As far as he was
concerned, he might just put on a show. Toyo was confusing the hell out of
him. First he wanted to keep him at arm’s length, and now he wanted Farrell
to be at arm’s length of  everybody else.

Farrell went out the door with Toyo following after him. As they walked,

heads swiveled in their direction again and people whispered, making Farrell
wonder whether or not their conversation had been heard. Normally, he
would have been incredibly embarrassed, but as he took his seat across from

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Zane, all that he felt was extraordinary anger. I hate men, Farrell thought,
fuming. I don’t know why I bother with them.

Though Farrell expected Zane to make another move on him, he didn’t.

The rest of  the meeting was held with complete professionalism, except for
the fact that Toyo kept sending dark glances around the room and was sullen
and silent when normally he would have been full of  humor. Even Lisa, who
normally couldn’t have stopped talking if  her mouth hadn’t been stapled
shut, was silent.

It felt like it took hours for the meeting to be over, and when it finally

was, Farrell leaped up from the table and shot a desperate glance at the door.
He wanted to go back to his desk, and most of all, he wanted to get as far
away from Toyo as absolutely possible.

Still, Farrell was forced to escort Zane out of the conference room and

was not the slightest bit surprised that he got pulled into an empty office
with a door. What did surprise Farrell, though, was the fact that Toyo was
pulled inside too. Lisa and the others were left to walk back to their cubicles
in confusion.

“I am very sorry, Toyo,” Zane said, slapping Toyo on his muscular

shoulder. “I had no idea that I was making a move on your boyfriend. You
should have warned me. I like playing around with a cute guy when I see one,
but I had no intention of messing around with taken goods.”

Toyo and Farrell both froze. After that, Farrell felt his face heat up so

much that he could have fried an egg on his face.

Toyo was the first to speak. “He’s not with me. We aren’t . . . I mean . . .

honestly . . .”

“This is the first time I’ve ever heard you get tongue-tied,” Zane replied,

laughing into his hands. “He must really be something.”

Farrell opened up his mouth in defiance. “What he meant was that we

really aren’t together like that. Toyo isn’t interested.”

The two of them shot daggers at each other from across the room. Toyo

looked as though he was contemplating murdering Farrell with the pen in his
hand, and Farrell felt pain and anger boil within his stomach. He couldn’t
believe that Toyo was messing with his mind like this, especially since he had

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more than enough things to worry about with Ty.

“Ah,” said Zane. “I even got in the way of a lover’s spat. A word of

advice, Toyo. Don’t let this wildcat get away. He’s a good one. I knew it the
moment that I set eyes on him. And what freckles—the possibilities for
intimate pet names are endless.”

Zane wore a sultry smile on his face as though he was imagining those

intimate pet names. This caused Farrell to feel his face get even hotter, and
he self-consciously pressed his hand to his nose and rubbed as if trying to rid
himself of the freckles. He had always hated them.

“Mmm,” Zane said when nobody said anything. “I would like to explore

and see if he has those freckles everywhere, or whether they’re just on his
face.”

Both Toyo and Farrell opened their mouths to speak, but Toyo was the

first and the loudest. “Knock it off! You may be a client, but you’re going too
far.”

Zane grinned. “I’m just teasing you two. The way you behave, Toyo . . .

You look at him like you want to rip his clothes off, yet you’re staying away.
It’s just a friendly warning—don’t let the things that you want wander around
lonely, or else they might disappear.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Toyo muttered indignantly.

“Next time, let’s just stick to business. Love matters aren’t a part of our
relationship.”

As Zane turned to leave, he patted Farrell’s shoulder and whispered

sensuously into his ear, “Next time you get sick of waiting around for this
dingbat, give me a call. I’ll leave my calling card on your desk. I’m sure I’ll
give you the ride of a lifetime.”

Farrell tried very hard not to imagine that.

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Chapter Fourteen

Over the next few weeks, Farrell was so antsy that he felt as though he

had hot coals in his pants. Whenever somebody came to the door, he felt his
heart pound with worry. Whenever the phone rang, he found that his breath
had been stolen away from him. He didn’t want to hear the words “I’ve come
to take back my son.” Though Farrell knew that he should have warned Ty
about what was going to happen, he couldn’t. Every time he opened his
mouth to say the words, the only thing that he expelled was a bunch of air.

Though he went to work, he was aware that his physical condition was

worsening. At first Toyo had bullied him after the incident with Zane, but as
Farrell grew quiet and subdued, Toyo stopped and began to shoot concerned
glances in his direction instead of dark stares. Lisa badgered him daily, but he
had snapped at her, and she had not visited with him since then.

It was as though he was a piece of dough and he was being stretched in

two very different directions. Toyo had one part of him and was pulling him
one way, while Pam had the other. He could feel himself breaking and tearing
apart, and he was doing the best that he could in order to save himself. In the
process, he was becoming more tired, grumpy, and bitter than ever before. It
was hard to imagine that he had once been a good-natured, funny guy to
many people.

Currently, Farrell was sitting at his desk arranging his files and doing his

best not to pass out. He was feeling dizzy and sick to his stomach, but that
was normal for him right now. As he contemplated his inabilities as a
guardian, the elevator door opened and revealed the person he had feared
seeing the most: Pam. She was back, and she looked better than ever.

Though she wasn’t in a business suit and high heels, she was not in a belly

shirt either. She had her hair done up in intricate butterfly clips, and she had
on a sparkly shirt that draped over tan, skintight pants. She was beaming
around at everyone as if she was the President of the United States, and even
Toyo, who had been in the process of checking on everyone’s work, stopped
to glance in her direction.

“Farrell,” Pam cried, approaching him with her arms outstretched. Farrell

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was overwhelmed by the scent of heavy perfume. “I owe you so much! How
are you doing? You’re looking sick.”

For a moment Farrell could not say anything. His heart was stuck in his

throat, and he couldn’t even breathe, let alone answer. Pam hugged him from
over the desk, but it was much more like a hug of death than it was an
affectionate embrace. Ty, he thought, wondering if he was even going to have
the chance to say good-bye.

“Pam,” he said gently, “hello.”
“What a happy greeting!” Pam said with sarcasm. She didn’t appear to

notice that most of his inner sickness was because of her. “Goodness,
Farrell. Anyway, I have something for you, a thank-you for all that you’ve
done for me.”

After that, she stared digging around in a sparkly brown bag that had far

too much beading and made loud clucking noises. Eventually, after removing
a hairbrush, wallet, and bus pass from her things, she grabbed a white
envelope with Farrell’s name scrawled on it in fancy letters. She handed it to
him.

Farrell opened the envelope and saw that there was money in there. He

counted the bills and noted five hundred dollars. Basically, all of Ty’s living
expenses for the past couple of months that he had been staying with him.

“I can’t take this,” Farrell said, truly finding his voice. “Please, reconsider

this, Pam. Let Ty stay with me. I can give him a good home. I can make him
happy. He’ll be stable with me.”

Pam refused to take the envelope back and checked her watch. “Listen,

we’ve got a two o’clock flight. I wanted to give you the money and retrieve
my son. I thought that it would be easier this way.”

Immediately, his face got hot. So that was why she had chosen to visit

him at work instead of in the evening, when they would both be home. Pam
had planned to take Ty before Farrell could even hug him or tell him how
much that he loved him. The worst part was that he didn’t even have true
claim over Ty. Pam was Ty’s mother, plain and simple. He belonged with her.
There was nothing that he could do.

He was torn between begging at her feet and throwing something.

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Instead, he settled for crying and grabbed her hand, giving her a pleading
look. She was too stunned to jerk her hand away, but all of his coworkers
were drawing close to see what was going on. Lisa was at the front of the
pack, as was Toyo.

“You can’t take him away without letting me say good-bye,” Farrell said.

“That is too cruel.”

“He isn’t your son,” Pam said, a fixed smile now on her face. “You were

just his . . . nanny. That’s a good way to put it. I paid you for watching him
for a few months, and now I’m back. He isn’t your son. He’s mine. Now take
the money like a good boy and shut up, okay?”

Farrell was shaking.
“Don’t do this,” he pleaded again. “Please, think of Ty’s welfare for once

in your damn life. You can’t go out there and dump him on strangers like you
did with me. He’s a good kid. He needs stability.”

“Farrell,” Pam said, backing away, “I like you. I really do. It was sad that

you had to be with a shithead like Allen who made you feel like crap, but I’m
taking my son no matter what you say. I’ll let him write and call you once he
gets settled, okay? You just . . . you just settle down.”

Then Pam walked out the door without a glance behind her.
Farrell was too distraught to care much for his dignity or anything else.

With a cry of despair, he fell to his knees and stared onward. He was going
to lose Ty. What was he going to do? More than anything, he dreaded going
home alone and spending the evening by himself like he had done time and
time again.

I’m so selfish, he thought. Soon, Ty would be torn away and totally

distraught again. If he had been stronger or smarter, then maybe he could
have thought of something—done anything—in order to stop Pam.

As he trembled, he felt a big, warm hand clap him on his shoulder, and a

voice said, “Come with me to my office, Farrell. Come on.”

* * * *

Farrell half expected that he would be fired. After all, he had just fallen

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to his knees and started crying in front of  all of  his coworkers. On top of
that, Pam had come in and caused a scene right in the middle of  everything.
Deep down, he knew that if  Toyo were not the kindhearted man he was, then
Farrell would have been wandering around, looking for a job as well as his
lost heart.

He felt truly ill as he leaned over the desk with Toyo hovering over him.

Though Toyo didn’t fully embrace him, he drew comfort from his hot hand
on his shoulder. He couldn’t stop crying, and he was aware of the snot that
flowed down his face along with the tears. How could Pam do such a thing?
How could she just pack up Ty and bring him away with her to New York? It
was so cruel.

As Farrell sobbed, he saw that the clock on the wall was ticking away and

that their work hours would soon be ending. He wondered whether Pam
would wait until Ty’s camp day was over or whether she would just fly in like
she had with Farrell, a wicked witch on her broomstick. Ty would probably
be horrified when he saw her . . .

Toyo hadn’t said a word to him since his collapse, but now, finally, he

said, “Farrell, I’m going to let the others go. It’s almost five o’clock.”

Right now, he was so close to jumping in front of a fast-moving car.

After all, without Ty, he had nothing to live for, not even a pet. There wasn’t
any meaning behind his life. He worked a job answering phone calls where
anybody could replace him, his drawings were mediocre and a graphic artist
could take over his work in seconds, and he had no real lovers or kids. He
was truly worthless, some person who didn’t matter to anyone, not even his
own parents. He was also the living memory of circumstances that Toyo
loathed, and every moment that he was in this office, he was causing others
pain.

After Toyo returned from talking to the others, Farrell stopped crying

because numbness began to set in. He looked Toyo in the eye as he stood at
the door. He didn’t know what expression he made at that moment, but the
next thing he knew, Toyo had him in his arms and was squeezing him so hard
that his sides hurt. There was the smell of maple syrup on him, which Farrell
found comforting.

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“It’s okay, Farrell,” Toyo said, grabbing the back of his head tenderly.

“You’re okay.”

“You don’t understand,” Farrell said. “Ty isn’t coming back. You don’t

know what’s going on.”

Toyo still held on tight. “It’s okay.”
They stayed like this for quite some time, the two of them hugging each

other tightly. It was strange how mere days ago Farrell had wanted this
moment more than anything else in the world, but he was now in too much
pain to enjoy it. Thoughts of Ty filled his mind: Ty playing, Ty laughing and
eating bowls full of terribly unhealthy cereals . . . Ty telling him that he loved
him.

It was hard to imagine that they had been together for such a short

amount of time. Farrell felt as though they had been a family forever.

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Chapter Fifteen

Farrell sat before the bar nursing a strong drink and a headache from

crying. Beside him sat Toyo, who had joined him after work. Lisa had wanted
to come along to “ease Farrell’s suffering,” but Toyo had put his foot down
and told her to back off. It was the first time that Farrell had seen Toyo really
snap at anybody but him.

There was a sports game playing on the television above them, and many

people were squished into a small space. It was too loud even for thoughts.
That was exactly what Farrell wanted, though. He had never been happier
about too much noise.

After the two of them had sat together in silence for some time, Toyo

finally scooted his barstool over until the two of them touched legs. He
leaned over and said to him loudly, “What happened, Farrell? I thought that
Ty was your son.”

Farrell explained it all, from his asshole ex-boyfriend, to Pam and the

look on her face when she had begged him for help. When he got to the part
about him taking Ty in, Toyo looked flabbergasted; his eyes bulged from his
head like two fat eggs, and his mouth opened wide as he expelled air.

“Is it so shocking?” Farrell asked him loudly.
“Normal people don’t take other people’s kids—even their boyfriend’s—

at the drop of the hat, Farrell,” Toyo argued, shaking his head. “What were
you thinking when you took him on?”

For a moment Farrell hesitated, but then he decided on full-on honesty.

Why wouldn’t he? He had already just spilled his guts about everything.

“Me,” Farrell finally said. “Ty looked like me, Toyo.”
Toyo’s mouth dropped open again. He choked on his own spit. “I didn’t

think that he looked much like you, no offense.”

“Lost, Toyo,” Farrell said, leaning over to whisper his response into

Toyo’s ear instead of belting it out for the whole room to hear. “Ty was lost,
just like me . . .”

Toyo gave him a look of the deepest pity and understanding. After that,

he grabbed Farrell’s hand and squeezed it. The two of them stayed like that

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for quite some time, not moving except for breathing. Farrell became even
more confused; selfishly, he felt some joy at Toyo’s touch, but at the same
time, he felt incredibly guilty for feeling anything besides deep-rooted sorrow.

Finally, though, the clock struck two o’clock, and his eyes began to get

itchy. Farrell felt like Cinderella, whose ball was about to end. He let out a
deep sigh.

“Will you do me one last favor, Toyo?” Farrell asked.
Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Toyo nodded.
“Will you stay with me at my place?”
An expression of confusion crossed Toyo’s face. Farrell didn’t know the

thoughts behind the look, but he didn’t care.

“No,” Farrell said, “not sex. You misunderstood. Just stay over—like a

guy friend might do . . . I just don’t want to be alone right now, okay?”

“Okay,” Toyo agreed after a moment.
The two of them stopped holding hands and left the bar. Once they were

out on the quiet street, Farrell’s bad feelings increased tenfold. It was hard to
be distracted from his thoughts of: I wonder what Ty’s doing right now and I hope
everything’s okay. He was getting a headache from his agonizing.

Toyo must have remembered where Farrell’s apartment was, because he

led the way and brought him to the right floor. Once they were outside the
door, Farrell stopped and stared, his heart pounding in his chest: thud, thud,
thud. He hesitated before rooting around in his things and sticking the key in
the door, swinging it open.

It was anticlimactic how everything in the apartment looked the same

when everything in Farrell’s life had changed so much. The furniture was all
there, as were his books. Though it had been dumb of him, his life without
Ty seemed so empty and meaningless to him that he had half expected to
come inside and discover that everything inside was gone.

As Farrell walked over to Ty’s room and saw that it was empty, he felt the

most painful kick in the heart of all. All of Ty’s comic books, sports things,
and new clothes were gone, as was his duffel bag that he had brought with
him. He walked through the threshold with his hand on his mouth to keep
from vomiting.

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That was when he heard Toyo say, “Farrell, come in here quickly! Hurry!”
Farrell whipped around, half hoping that Ty had managed to escape from

his mother and was stowed away in one of his closets somewhere. Farrell
sprinted to Toyo, who was standing in the kitchen with a note in his hand.

“Here!” Toyo said, shoving the note at him.
Farrell held the note in front of him and read:

Thank you for taking care of me these past couple of months. My

time with you was the best. Mom says that you were really upset when
she came to get me, but you don’t have to worry. I love her a whole lot. I
love you a whole lot too. I will come to visit you.

Mom says we’ll have a house and that it’s always windy where we’re

going, which is really cool. I hope that she’s right.

I love you!!!
Ty

P.S. I left the spare key on the kitchen counter. Mom couldn’t get in

otherwise, so I had to tell her where it was. I hope that’s okay.

“Oh God,” Farrell said, falling to his knees with the note in his hands.

“It’s okay. He’s okay.”

Toyo grasped his shoulder in comfort again, and Farrell grabbed the

kitchen counter for support, hauling himself  to his feet. He looked at the
note again, and he felt his heart beat in relief  and loneliness. He hoped that
Pam really had changed, if  only for Ty’s sake. But if  she did, then that meant
that Farrell would be all alone again. He hated being alone. He had been
alone his entire life, and he was tired of  it.

As he shook with the note in his hand, Toyo grabbed him and held him

close. The two of them squeezed one another, and Farrell inhaled sharply,
enjoying the scent of Toyo’s skin. The two of them drew apart for a moment
and looked at one another. Farrell was shocked by how much kindness was in
Toyo’s eyes at that moment: there was no anger, no hatred at all. Farrell felt
his stomach grow warm.

“Toyo,” Farrell said, “can I ask you something?”
Toyo shrugged.
“If I had been kinder in high school, could things be different between

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us now?” Farrell questioned.

For a moment Toyo looked like he wasn’t going to answer, but then he

did. Toyo leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips in a way that was
so tender that Farrell almost did not feel it. The response in his heart was
much greater than that of his lips. He felt his heart speed up so fast that it
was beating the conga against his rib cage.

“I’ve got to go,” Toyo said when Farrell leaned forward to kiss him more

deeply. “I know that I promised that I would stay with you, Farrell, but I just
. . . I can’t. It would be too hard to stay away from you.”

Toyo turned to leave and walked toward the threshold. When he reached

forward to grab the handle, Farrell managed to get ahold of Toyo’s hand and
jerked him backward. Toyo went very still and sucked in air.

“Why?” Farrell asked him. “You want me, don’t you? Why are you

working so damn hard to stay away from me?”

Toyo regarded him with sad eyes. “Because it hurts to be with you just as

much as it does to stay away.”

The sting cut through Farrell’s heart, and he released Toyo, his eyes

burning. Toyo left for good this time and walked out the door, not turning to
glance back at him, just like Pam and his parents. Farrell fell to his knees
again and felt the piercing feeling of loneliness once more.

I’m pretty sure that he just hurt me just as much as I had hurt him, Farrell

thought, looking at the locked door. I wonder whether he did it on purpose. Tears
flowed down his face as he leaned against the wall, and that night, he did not
even bother to go to his bed. He lay curled up on the floor and wept until he
dozed off, entering a chilling world of nightmares and more loneliness.

* * * *

Farrell had originally thought that going to work would be painful for

him, but instead, when he left, he felt glad to have something to occupy his
mind. The weekend had been possibly the worst one of his life, even more
terrible than the one that he had spent on the streets all alone and confused.
The moment he laid eyes on Toyo, though, his heart reminded him of his

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pain and, equally unfortunately, his love. No matter how much Toyo had hurt
him, he could never escape that poison.

“Good morning, Farrell.” Toyo regarded him as he walked through the

door. Farrell was well aware that he was getting examined for his reaction and
health. Since Farrell had not eaten or drank much besides liquor, he was
certain that he looked like a corpse. “I’m glad to see that you’re in today.”

“Good morning, Toyo,” Farrell greeted mechanically. In his mind, he

thought, I hope that you fall off a giant cliff.

The other workers whispered about him as he sat down at his desk, and

only Lisa, who had apparently forgiven him for snapping at her, came over to
him. For the first time, he was grateful that she was there. She gave him
something to cling to, some sort of lifeline besides Ty or Toyo. She talked
about the most ridiculous of things, like his hair, which apparently “looks like
it got attacked by a weed whacker.”

As she prattled on and fixed his hair, he caught sight of Toyo watching

him from over his papers. When Toyo saw him looking and caught his eye,
Toyo looked down again quickly. After that, a steady blush crept up Toyo’s
neck as he scurried away to go to his office.

I’m sick of fucking around, he thought. I’m sick of playing this two-faced game.
Farrell watched Toyo’s door close, and he grimaced. His heart pounded in

pain, anger, and love. Ty was gone, so it wasn’t like losing his job here would
hurt anybody but himself. He could very easily screw things up now. Toyo
admitted that he wanted him, and a few nights ago, Toyo had hurt him
beyond belief. Well, since Toyo has decided to screw with my mind so much, then why
don’t I screw with him—literally.

“Are you okay, Farrell?” Lisa said, jarring him from his thoughts. “You

just got the creepiest look on your face, like you’ve gone off the deep end
and are about to jump off a giant cliff.”

“I think I am, Lisa,” Farrell said, grinning and patting her shoulder.

“What, you’ve never jumped off a cliff before?”

“No,” she replied, suddenly looking nervous, “I haven’t. I actually have

no idea what you’re talking about, either. Is something going on? Something
that I don’t know about?”

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“Lots of things are going on that you don’t know about.”
Lisa looked offended again, but she did not leave his side. That didn’t

matter. Farrell was too busy focusing on Toyo’s door to listen to her talk.

I really have gone off the deep end, he thought, looking down. He had never

exactly been a shy guy, but he had never been extremely outgoing either.
Now, he was planning to seduce his boss, who half hated him. At least he
had nothing left to lose.

* * * *

Farrell was typing at his office computer when Toyo left his office. For

the first time, he realized that Toyo had bags underneath his eyes and looked
tired, just like he did. As Farrell glanced at the clock, realizing that it was
lunchtime, he placed both hands on his desktop, but did not make any effort
to move. He was not hungry. He hadn’t been all weekend.

As some of the workers filed out and others went to go get drinks at the

water cooler by the bathroom, Toyo made his rounds and chatted with a few
people. Then his eyes landed on Farrell for the first time since that morning.
Here goes nothing, Farrell thought, picked up a pen, and stuck it in his mouth.

Farrell moved his tongue over the pen very suggestively. Toyo looked

torn between glancing away and staring. Farrell continued, moving it inside
of his mouth several times and thrusting it back and forth. After that, Toyo’s
eyes popped out and his mouth dropped open. A reddish tinge graced the
top of his collar.

That was when Lisa dropped her hand on Farrell’s shoulder, and he

nearly choked on his pen cap and had to spit it out, showering spit all over
the place. He shot a look at Toyo and saw his back. He saw it, Farrell thought.
He saw me choke on the pen.

Farrell sighed, heat filling his face, and he turned back around to face

Lisa, who was looking at him with a curious expression. “Are you . . . okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” Farrell said. “I’m absolutely fine.”
“Farrell, come over here for a moment.”
Both of them jumped. Toyo had interrupted their conversation and

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startled the hell out of them both. Farrell hadn’t seen him coming, because
he had had his back to him only moments before.

“Coming,” Farrell said, standing up and smiling at Lisa, who looked

confused and worried all at once.

Farrell and Toyo went back to his office, and Farrell shut the door behind

them. After that, Toyo took his place behind his desk and sat in his swivel
chair. He looked confused, because his eyebrows drew together and he
opened and shut his mouth several times without saying anything at all.

“What was that display just now?” Toyo finally asked. “You know I could

get you in big trouble for something like that. I’ve warned you against it.”

The Farrell before this emotional crisis might have backed off. The new

Farrell, the one who didn’t give a flying fig about anything anymore, was
losing his grip. Toyo could have thrown him off the top-floor window and
he wouldn’t have cared. Farrell grinned at Toyo and didn’t say a word.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Toyo cried, standing back up again

and approaching him. “You’re working hard enough, and I know that you’re
taking the Ty thing hard, so I’m choosing to overlook this, but I—”

“That’s not the reason why you’re overlooking it,” Farrell said flatly.

“Don’t play the good boy, Toyo. It doesn’t suit you anymore. The reason why
you aren’t going to turn me in is because you like it. You want to rip my
clothes off right now. How does it feel to know that I want you too? In fact,
you could take me right now on the floor if you wanted to.”

“Holy shit, Farrell,” Toyo cried, his eyebrows raised. “You really have

gone off the deep end. You should go home for a week, recover. Maybe get a
therapist. What you said simply isn’t true. I have perfect self-control, and I
just happen to be a nice boss who—”

“You’ve got a hard-on, Toyo,” Farrell said, looking down for a second.
“I do not!”
Farrell reached forward and grabbed Toyo’s erection. Toyo went as still as

a statue, and Farrell gave it a firm squeeze before letting it go. Since Toyo’s
body had said all that needed to be said, he did not bother to go into any
further discussion. The two of them stared each other down.

“I have nothing left to lose, Toyo,” Farrell said, staring him straight in the

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eye. “I think you know what that feels like, don’t you? You can fire me, but I
don’t care. With Ty gone now, I don’t have anything. One thing I’ve learned
through all my years is that sex can drive other thoughts from your mind
faster than anything else.”

“What are you proposing?” Toyo asked him, eyes wide.
Farrell looked him in the eye and said, “I think you know what I’m

proposing. I’m not normally this straightforward of a guy, Toyo, but I’m
getting desperate. I’m getting to the point where I’d do anything that you
wanted me to.”

“Farrell, this is absolutely ridiculous,” Toyo said.
“Is it?” Farrell asked him before he walked out the door.

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Chapter Sixteen

Farrell decided to stay late at the office that night, contemplating his own

stupidity. He felt as though somebody was banging a hammer against his
head. His thoughts were a whirlwind of  confusion: Ty . . . Toyo . . . Ty . . . Toyo
. . . Why am I so stupid? He wanted to kill himself. Half  of  him was certain that
he had done the right thing regarding Toyo, and the other half  of  him
thought that he should have waited and let things take their natural course.

The other workers filed out at the regular time as he tapped his pen in

anxiety on his desk, contemplating his own bleak future. Just as Lisa, the last
straggler, left the building, he was about to get up and leave himself. Staying
late had been a bad idea. But then, he was stopped.

Toyo stood at the threshold of his office with a dark expression on his

face.

“Toyo,” Farrell said, unsure of what else could be said.
Toyo walked over and stopped directly in front of Farrell’s desk. His

mouth was thin, and his eyes were dark, but there was something lusty about
his expression too. After all, Toyo eyeballed Farrell from his feet to his head.

“Come with me to my office,” Toyo said.
“Yes, sir,” Farrell replied sarcastically.
Rolling his eyes, Toyo led Farrell into his office and shut the door behind

them. Toyo silently paced around the room, while Farrell’s heart leaped in his
chest in worry and wonder. What if  Toyo is really going to fire me? What if  I really
am left on the street with no job and no Ty? Why was I so stupid? I really did lose my
mind. I had a nervous breakdown in the way of  a sexual heart attack. It’s just like in
high school, when I was a total moron at the drop of  a hat. No wonder my parents
disowned me.

“Toyo, I—”
“Farrell,” he interrupted, slamming both hands on his desk so hard that

all of his papers jumped and his empty coffee cup fell over, “regarding what
you said earlier . . .”

“Yes, about that. I—”
“I think you were right,” Toyo muttered.

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“. . . think that it’s best that we forget the whole—wait, what?” Farrell’s

eyes widened, and he took a step backward in shock. “I was right?”

“I did want you. That’s the reason why I couldn’t fire you,” Toyo

concluded, running his hands through his hair. “The problem is, you confuse
me. I can look at you and feel love, anger, and hatred all at the same time. I
haven’t found a way to get around that.”

“You . . . hate me?” Farrell asked, the sharp pain in his chest increasing

tenfold. He knew it to be true, for he was feeling that way himself, but Toyo’s
honesty was still as sharp as a knife.

“But I love you too,” Toyo replied.
The two of them were silent for a moment, surveying each other.
Farrell finally said, “What now?”
After that, Toyo let out a deep sigh and ran his fingers through his hair

one more time. He walked forward until he stood right in front of Farrell
and gave him a long kiss that he had not been expecting. Farrell was as still as
a statue through the whole thing, unsure of how to respond. If Toyo had
tried that earlier, he would have been humping him against the desk.

“I have a proposition to make,” Toyo said.
“Not another one of those,” Farrell groaned. “Can’t you ever just let

something be, eh?”

“The two of us can have sex together, nothing more,” Toyo said. “We

aren’t in a relationship. In fact, we aren’t even really friends. That will ease
some of these—for the lack of a better word—feelings between us, and at
work we can continue as things were before as long as you don’t try any more
shows like you did with the pen earlier.”

For a moment Farrell was quiet. This wasn’t so different than what he

had done with Charles. He was so sick of relationships without feelings, but
he did love Toyo, and Toyo admitted that he loved him back on some level,
so wasn’t that really what a relationship was? He knew that he already felt
more for Toyo than he had for Allen—hatred and anger included—so it
would not turn out the same.

On top of that, he longed to have somebody. Ty’s disappearance made

him more eager than ever to fill the void in his heart.

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100

In response to Toyo’s questions, Farrell pressed his lips solidly to Toyo’s

own. For a moment Toyo was very stiff, but then he wrapped his arms
around Farrell’s back and yanked him so close that he could scarcely breathe.
Farrell melted into him, enjoying the smells and the sensations, and opened
his mouth in order to allow Toyo’s tongue to enter inside.

The two of them continued that way for some time, moaning and kissing

until their lips grew wet. Farrell broke away, his heart pounding in his chest
more fiercely than it had because of any other man’s kiss, and he looked
Toyo in the eye. It was hard to imagine that the kid he had teased in high
school was now, in some ways, his lover.

“We should lock the door,” Farrell said.
“Huh?” Toyo said, leaning down and nibbling on his ear.
“The door”—Farrell moaned and pressed himself even harder against

Toyo—“we should lock it before Lisa comes back again.”

Toyo moaned in agreement, nibbling on his ear one more time before

grabbing Farrell and forcing him against the desk. Farrell sat down, pulling
off  his work shirt and tossing it onto the floor. He tried to ignore how
loosely his pants fit and how he viewed himself  as a skinny little kid. He had
to push all thoughts of  his low self-esteem from his mind.

After Toyo had locked the door, he came back with a grin on his face.

Farrell leaned forward to take his kiss, and the two of them tangled again.
Toyo was all hands—his fingers ran over Farrell’s chest, nipples, and hips.
After that, he moved his hand down to Farrell’s cock and rubbed it with his
hand, hard. Farrell squirmed against his palm, lying backward on the desk
and smiling.

The papers that he was lying on made the wide desk more comfortable

than he could have imagined. Toyo grinned, leaning over him and kissing his
lips more, sucking on his bottom lip eagerly. Farrell laughed as Toyo tenderly
ran his fingertips down his side—it was his ticklish spot. Toyo started
laughing too as he began to lay butterfly kisses all over Farrell’s collarbone.

“What are you doing?” Farrell panted, sitting up only to be pushed back

down again by Toyo’s hand.

“Zane was right,” Toyo said, nibbling on Farrell’s shoulder now. “You are

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101

adorable, Freckles.”

“Eh?” Farrell asked, getting red in the face. He had never been given a

pet name before. “What do you mean by that?”

“You have freckles everywhere, not just on your face,” Toyo explained. “I

think I might take his advice and explore all of you. I want to see if you
really do have freckles everywhere. In fact, I think that I might just try to kiss
every last one of them.”

Even though Farrell made a noise of discontent in the back of his throat,

Toyo kept right on kissing him—his shoulders, collarbones, and stomach.
After that, Toyo moved on to his nipples and licked his right one fiercely
before sucking on it, causing Farrell to buck his hips and moan.

Farrell propped himself up and leaned forward, unbuttoning Toyo’s

collar and shirt, tossing it to the floor along with the other articles of
clothing. Toyo tried to push him down on the desk again, but Farrell
responded by sinking his teeth playfully into Toyo’s shoulder. He had not
done so hard enough to cause any real pain, but it was solid enough to catch
Toyo’s attention.

“You always like to cause a little sting, don’t you?” Toyo breathed,

running his fingers through Farrell’s hair and then giving him a deep kiss. As
the two of them necked again, Toyo nipped at Farrell’s tongue and caused it
to burn.

Farrell grinned. “Well, as an apology, do you want me to reenact what I

did earlier with the pen on you? I’ve been told it’s my best performance.”

After that, Farrell moved his hand down and slipped it into Toyo’s pants

and underwear, rubbing his cock, which was far larger than he had expected.
It was hard in his hand, and he enjoyed how hot it was. Toyo moaned, but
stopped him. Farrell was so surprised that he let out a hiss.

“I think that you can give me a better performance,” Toyo whispered into

his ear while biting his bottom lobe. “Though your mouth is sexy.”

Toyo traced the outside of Farrell’s lips with his thumb, and Farrell

opened his mouth, allowing Toyo to push it inside. Farrell ran his tongue
over Toyo’s nail and began to suck it, shutting his eyes and moaning. As he
did this, he felt Toyo shudder against him and begin to undo his pants with

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102

his free hand.

With his thumb, Toyo began to make thrusting motions. Farrell grinned,

feeling the heat. After that, Toyo replaced his thumb with his hot lips, and he
inserted his tongue instead. Toyo forced himself inside of him over and over
again.

Farrell began to slide his pants over his legs because they had gotten

caught on his knees. He was so excited that he was trembling, and it was hard
for him to get them off. Even though Toyo was experiencing the same
adrenaline rush, he reached forward and began to help him get out of the
pants. They both laughed as Farrell had to grab the desk for support, or else
he would have been pulled off it completely in a shower of papers.

After that, Farrell removed his underwear, which was much easier

because he had bought them a size too big. He sat there, bare-assed, on the
desk and shivered from the cold. Toyo must have noticed, because he leaned
forward and engulfed him with his hot body—and inserted his hot tongue.

Toyo reached down and stroked Farrell’s cock, running his hand from

head to balls with forceful strokes. Farrell moaned, leaning backward, and
began to pant. Toyo chuckled out of the back of his throat and said, “My
God, you really do have freckles everywhere. I never would have believed it.”

Farrell moaned in response.
Getting down on his knees, Toyo took Farrell into his mouth and began

to suck him off. Farrell forgot about the cold altogether as sweat ran down
his back, and he moaned rhythmically as Toyo worked him over. Pleasure ran
through his body, and his leg twitched in response. Too soon, Farrell came in
Toyo’s mouth: spat, spat, spat!

Toyo took it all in his mouth, swallowing, and wiping the extra with his

fingers. After that, he grinned at Farrell wickedly and began to lick his way up
his chest. Just when Toyo had gotten to his mouth again, Farrell leaned
forward to receive his kiss and got a shock when he was flipped over with his
stomach against the desk and his ass sticking out.

There was the sound of pants unzipping, and Toyo finally took off all of

his clothes and threw them to the side. Farrell felt Toyo’s massive erection
pressing against him and shuddered, gripping the desk for support. Toyo

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103

wasn’t ready to play yet, though, because he didn’t push himself inside.

“You have done this before, haven’t you?” Toyo asked, playfully stroking

the bare spot on Farrell’s neck and making him shiver.

“Don’t patronize me,” Farrell said, rolling his eyes. “This is my favorite

part.”

Toyo chuckled, and Farrell’s entire body vibrated with him. Then Toyo

stuck his tongue in Farrell’s ear and licked him there, after that blowing three
times. Farrell shuddered, and then he closed his eyes as he enjoyed the
pleasure.

Quickly, Toyo backed away and sucked at the very back of Farrell’s neck,

using his tongue to run over the smooth and sensitive skin there. Just as
Farrell moaned, enjoying it, Toyo tenderly nipped at the crevices in his
shoulder blades. Farrell laughed because he was ticklish and tried to protect
himself.

Toyo chuckled again, and Farrell said, “What’s so funny?”
“When you got here, you were so serious—so different than what

everyone thought you were in high school. You looked tired,” Toyo said,
reaching forward and stroking a stray flyaway hair that was by Farrell’s ear. “I
thought that the playful, kid-like side of you was gone for good. Yet here you
are—Freckles. You were just hiding away.”

Once again, his face grew hot. He didn’t know whether or not he was

being made fun of.

“Is that a bad thing?” Farrell asked, looking down.
“No,” Toyo said. “I like you better this way. You should show this side of

you more often.”

Warmth spread through his heart before he could fight it. He met Toyo’s

eyes from over his shoulder and felt a spark. Toyo flipped him around again
so that they were facing each other and kissed him deeply, after that pushing
him against the desk so that his shoulders and back were supported there.

Toyo thrust two of his fingers into Farrell’s ass, and he moaned, bucking

his hips. Even though he was used to having anal sex, he was too dry, and it
hurt. Farrell wasn’t promiscuous enough to carry a condom and lubricant
with him everywhere he went, and Toyo hadn’t magically pulled some out of

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104

his desk, so they were at a standoff.

“Ugh,” Farrell moaned, leaning forward with sweat drizzling down his

face. “Too dry. Hurts a bit.”

Toyo made a face and nodded.
If it had been Allen, he would have gone on with the sex anyway, even if

it would have meant pain and bleeding on Farrell’s part. Instead, Toyo
dropped to his knees and arranged Farrell’s legs so that they were over his
shoulders, making it so he had perfect access to Farrell’s ass. After that, he
leaned forward and forced his tongue inside.

Nobody had ever done that to him before. He wasn’t sure if he liked it.
“Toyo, don’t!” he cried. “It’s dirty! Dirty!”
“Deal with it for a bit,” Toyo said. “If I don’t do this, you’re going to get

hurt. I can’t have that. Relax, or else I’ll never get inside of you.”

For some reason, Farrell calmed down easily at Toyo’s command. He

trusted Toyo, even though the majority of the times that they were together,
they fought. Farrell leaned back against the desk and breathed, and soon he
found that it wasn’t bad after all. In fact, it was incredibly pleasurable.

Toyo thrust himself inside of him repeatedly with his tongue, and Farrell

found himself  close to having an orgasm again. After that, Toyo removed his
tongue and thrust himself  inside with two fingers once more. The lubricant
that his spit provided was enough to ease his pain. He moaned as shock
waves of  pleasure filled him.

After Toyo had seen to the fact that Farrell was enjoying himself, he

began to thrust into him more harshly with his fingers. As he did this, he
removed Farrell’s legs from his shoulders and stood up, all while forcing his
fingers in and out.

“Put your legs around me,” Toyo whispered as he moved his fingers

inside of him.

Farrell sat up and wrapped his legs around Toyo, holding himself up by

his forearms on the desk. Soon, Toyo switched from two fingers to three,
and he was moving so rigorously that Farrell had a hard time staying put on
the desk. Once again, Farrell was closer to having an orgasm than ever
before. Only a few more thrusts and he would be there.

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105

That was when Toyo stopped. Just when Farrell was about to complain,

Toyo thrust his cock into him without warning. Farrell shuddered as Toyo
moved over him, pushing him back against the desk.

Toyo leaned forward and kissed Farrell as he moved, and as the two of

them kissed, Farrell was filled with ecstasy. If Toyo’s tongue had not filled his
mouth, then he would have cried out. Instead, he merely moaned against his
lips.

As Toyo finished inside of him moments later, he pulled away from their

tongue bath and did cry out. Toyo’s body trembled as he filled him, and the
two of them both shuddered, panting. After everything was over, they both
had moments of wordlessness where all they did was pant.

Farrell pulled himself off the desk and felt a pain in his ass. He cringed,

gripping the desk for support, and Toyo reached forward to steady him.
Without thinking about it, Farrell leaned forward and pressed his face against
Toyo’s bare chest, shutting his eyes. The two of them were very still except
for the harshness of their breathing.

That was the best that I’ve ever had, Farrell thought, trembling.
When Toyo said, “Are you okay?” the spell was broken. Farrell felt as

though his carriage had turned back into a pumpkin. Toyo had set up a “no
relationship” rule, but, with Farrell clinging to his chest, it didn’t feel just
physical to him—it felt emotional, spiritual, and mental. Just when he looked
at Toyo, wondering whether he had changed his mind after what had
happened, Toyo stepped away from him and got the same cold, hard look
that he sometimes had.

Farrell gripped the desk for support, feeling somehow emptier now than

he had been before they had started having sex. He looked around the office
and looked for some life support, some savior, to keep himself  from getting
angry or—worse still—from breaking down in front of  Toyo again. He
noticed the state of  the room and found his lifeboat.

“Look what we’ve done to this office,” Farrell said. “All of your papers

are a mess. And this!”

He picked up an important paper that had a stain on it and grimaced. He

wondered if Candace would mind a document signed in come. At that time,

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Toyo, who had been scooping up their clothes, scowled.

“Here. I doubt that you can bend over enough to get your stuff,” Toyo

said, tossing him his clothes. “Shit. After what we just did, I’m going to have
to reprint everything in this place. We probably should have thought this out
better.”

Farrell frowned as he pulled on his shirt. After that, he tugged on his

underwear and pants, going especially slowly because he was sore. It had
been some time since he had been with Charles, and Farrell wasn’t used to
such a difficult position.

“Do you want me to help you?” Farrell asked, examining everything. “It’s

late. It’ll be easier if we both do it.”

For a moment Toyo was quiet, but then he shook his head and said, “No,

Farrell. I’ll just come in at seven o’clock tomorrow and do it. I was going to
head in earlier, anyway.”

Once again, Farrell didn’t say anything. He was too busy fighting down

more confusion. I thought that having sex with Toyo would make things easier, but I
was wrong. It only made things worse. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. It feels like
I’m in a car without brakes going down a steep hill.

Farrell turned to leave, half limping, but Toyo grabbed his arm and said,

“Farrell, thanks. You were great. No mention of this at the office tomorrow,
right?”

“Yeah,” Farrell said, shaking his head, “of course I wouldn’t say anything.

Just sex, right? It’s part of our deal.”

As he hobbled toward the elevator, he thought, Why is it that I can have

“just sex” with Charles without many issues, but I can’t do it with Toyo? This isn’t fair.

That night when he got home, he lay in bed and wept.

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Chapter Seventeen

Farrell sat at his desk, pale and shaky. His eyes were clouded over. He was

doing his best to focus on answering the phone and accessing the files on the
computer, but it was hard to do so. That was all because Toyo had met his
eyes earlier.

Sure enough, just as Farrell answered the phone and said, “Hello, Warren

and Frank Advertising. How may I direct your call?” Toyo swept over.
Farrell’s heart immediately started to pound harder in his chest.

Toyo placed a note in front of him, slipping it between two files so that it

could not be seen. Farrell flushed as he looked at it, realizing that it was
reminiscent of  what he used to see in high school. It was a love note of
sorts, except, instead of  asking whether or not Farrell liked Toyo, it was
asking if  he was available to have hard, dirty sex later that evening. It’s adult
love, thought Farrell, grimacing.

Can I come over tonight? I need you. Wink if the answer is yes. If the answer is no,

do nothing.

Farrell caught Toyo’s eye and winked. Maybe he shouldn’t have,

considering the fact that his heart had been breaking over the last two lust-
filled weeks. They had been having sex everywhere—in Farrell’s bed, at his
kitchen counter, and in his living room. Farrell had never once seen Toyo’s
house. He got the feeling that Toyo didn’t want him there. Probably it was
too close to a relationship if that were the case.

After that, Farrell began to write down information in the client calendar

and pretended not to feel uneasy. This was supposed to be his dream, wasn’t
it? Having sex with the man he loved? He most certainly was too busy to feel
lonely about Ty, yet his heart still felt just as lonely as it had before. He still
spent every consecutive night alone. He felt his heart pound harder in his
chest as he thought about it.

I need to go home, he thought, setting things down at his desk. He took a

furious look at the clock, as if  that might help time go by faster. It was fifteen
minutes until he was off  shift, but those fifteen minutes could go as slowly as
eight hours when he felt this way. What if  he locked the door to his

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apartment and kept Toyo out? No, he didn’t have the heart to do that. He still
loved Toyo, but sex just wasn’t enough.

Tonight, he thought, I’m going to make him hold me. Farrell ground his teeth,

imagining himself clinging to Toyo like a monkey, begging him for affection.
He had never ever done that with Allen, and he had never felt the urge to
either.

As the clock finally struck five o’clock, Farrell stood up and rushed from

the office as fast as his legs could carry him. On the way home, he took a
different route and stopped off  at the liquor store, getting a bottle of
bourbon more for himself  than for Toyo. He was going to need to be drunk
if  he was going to try to get Toyo to stay with him. Over the past two weeks,
Toyo had been more than clear that Farrell was to keep emotionally at arm’s
length. Their sex had also gotten angrier and—strangely enough—more
passionate.

After he arrived home, it was already five thirty, and he decided that he

would have a liquid dinner that evening. He slurped down four shots before
the doorbell rang, and when it did, he rushed at the door like a pissed-off
water buffalo. When he opened the door, Toyo was there waiting for him.

They didn’t waste any time with greetings or anything. They both rushed

at each other at the same time, kissing each other so passionately and angrily
that it was painful and pleasurable all at once. Toyo sunk his teeth into
Farrell’s bottom lip, and Farrell shuddered before pulling back and retaliating
by sinking his teeth into Toyo’s neck.

Toyo grabbed Farrell underneath his ass and forced him upward, making

it so that he had to wrap his legs around Toyo’s waist to stay on. The two of
them continued kissing and biting, with Farrell clinging on to him, and Toyo
forced him against the wall at the threshold of his apartment, slamming the
door shut behind them.

“Ouch,” Farrell said as he hit the wall with a bang. After that, he and

Toyo laughed. “Hello to you too.”

“You know you like it,” Toyo grunted, shoving his tongue into Farrell’s

mouth.

The two of them continued their hot, fiery kissing for a while, but both

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he and Toyo were already getting hard. Toyo reached forward with his free
hand while kissing and, fumbling, undid the fly of Farrell’s pants. After that
he slipped his hand into Farrell’s underwear and began to rub his cock from
balls to tip.

“Wait!” Farrell cried. “You too! I want to do you too.”
While Toyo still gripped Farrell’s cock, the two of them slid down the

wall until they were both sitting across from one another on the floor. Farrell
reached forward, moaning, and undid Toyo’s pants as well. Soon, Farrell
gripped Toyo’s massive erection in his hands, and he began to match his pace.

The two of them rubbed and touched, soon becoming one with their

movements. Midway through, Toyo leaned forward and kissed him, and the
two of them began to rub each other’s tongues against one another’s as they
felt each other’s erections. Though Toyo had started rubbing Farrell first,
Toyo was the earliest to come. Hot white liquid poured all over Farrell’s hand,
and Toyo threw his head back and cried out loudly. As he panted with sweat
running down his face, he began to rub Farrell faster and faster.

I don’t . . . want . . . it like this anymore, Farrell thought, throwing his head

back. While it felt so good, it hurt his heart too. He felt hot tears stream
down his face as Toyo jacked him off, but Toyo was too busy staring at
Farrell’s cock to notice his expression. Farrell let out a small sob that was
misconstrued as a shudder of pleasure.

He came in spurts, and then he leaned against the wall, slumped over and

silent. He wiped away a stray tear before Toyo could see it, but his eyes were
probably red.

Already, Toyo was standing up and zipping his pants. Farrell was too

beaten to move for a moment, feeling lost and sick with himself more than
he ever had with Allen or Charles or any other of his exes. With them, it had
been empty sex, but this was not empty sex—it was not loving sex either, but
something more fatal. Farrell wasn’t even sure that a name had been created
for what they were doing.

“You were great, as usual,” Toyo said, reaching forward and pressing his

hand against Farrell’s sweaty head. After that, Toyo turned to leave.

Before he could stop himself, Farrell made a desperate leap for Toyo and

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grabbed ahold of his leg. Toyo stopped and turned around, looking down at
him. Farrell was too distraught to care that his pants had fallen around his
kneecaps and that they were unbuckled in the front.

“Toyo,” Farrell said, “stay a while. Watch a movie. Have a drink. I don’t

give a shit what we do, but just . . . stay. Please stay.”

“That isn’t a part of our deal,” Toyo replied, trying to be cold though his

voice had gone up an octave. “I can’t do that, and you know it.”

Farrell released him and stared at the floor. “What am I to you, a

common whore? A prostitute? You come to me and have sex? That’s all?”

“That was our deal!” Toyo repeated, looking down at him and backing

away. “If you don’t like it, then just let me know. That way, I won’t touch you
at all. We either have sex, or we don’t—it’s your choice, not mine.”

Farrell looked up at him desperately. “Fine. Just fine, I guess . . . Toyo,

you want to know something?”

Toyo did not answer him. Instead, he had his eyes on the floor.
“Remember when you said that you weren’t going to retaliate after what I

did to you in high school?” Farrell asked solemnly. “Well, I have a feeling that
you are. You’re enjoying doing this to me, aren’t you? Secretly, you like it,
seeing me confused and in pain.”

Once again, Toyo was silent. He left the apartment and shut the door

without another word. The moment that Toyo was gone completely, he heard
the sound of pressing emptiness and began to weep freely. After that, he
started banging his hands against the floor like a small, deranged child.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Farrell screamed. “Why do the people that I love

always leave me? Why? Why? Why? Am I not good enough?”

His answer was the silence of an empty apartment. He stood up, seized

one of his plates, and hurled it across the room. It shattered into a million
pieces against the wall and made a dent on the wallpaper. Afterward, Farrell
slumped to the floor brokenhearted and exhausted.

* * * *

“Are we still continuing our arrangement?” Toyo asked him the next

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morning. He was not looking at him. Instead, he was staring at his desk.
Farrell noticed that Toyo’s eyes looked very red.

“Do you still want to?” Farrell asked.
The two of them were in Toyo’s office under the pretense that they were

talking about Candace, but in reality they were discussing last night. Farrell
was exhausted with the endless confusion and anger, but he didn’t want Toyo
to completely leave him either. He wasn’t sure what was worse: having sex
with Toyo and feeling terrible afterward, or not having sex at all and being
cold and alone while thinking of Toyo and wanting him back.

He shivered, exhausted, and kept his eyes on the floor as Toyo was silent.

He had come to both love and loathe this office—there was the excitement
that he felt when he went to see Toyo, yet there was the tiring hate as well.
He didn’t know what to do anymore.

“I want to continue it,” Toyo finally said.
“Okay,” Farrell replied.
“Then I’ll meet you tonight, same time?”
Farrell nodded, exiting the office without another word.
When he got to his desk, he saw that he had a message on his phone. He

checked the message, expecting to have to write down a time for Toyo or
Lisa or one of the others on the calendar, but was shocked to find that the
message was for him—it was Allen. What was even more shocking about
this, though, was that Allen sounded just as beaten and as tired as Farrell felt.

“Hi, Farrell. I know you don’t want to talk to me, and I understand why.

I’ve been a complete and utter asshole. I just . . . can’t be without you. If  you
would take me back, I would be grateful a thousand times over and would
treat you with the respect that you deserve. I love you so much. I know that I
never told you that enough. You were always taking care of  me, like some
sort of  slave. If  you have it in your heart to forgive me for what I did and
said, please call me. I’ve changed. I really have. Thanks. I love you. ’Bye.”

For a moment he was dead silent. He felt warmth in his heart, but not the

pounding passion that he felt for Toyo—it was just that the way Allen had
sounded just now, so sweet and innocent, reminded him of Ty.

What he said is not true, thought Farrell, and even if it was, he wouldn’t take

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Allen back. He now knew what being in love really felt like, and it wasn’t the
way that he had felt for Allen . . . but Toyo didn’t have any plan of showing
Farrell any warmth, did he?

He shook his head, pretending not to have had such a thought. It didn’t

matter if Toyo was cold. He could handle it. He had to. With a shaking hand,
he reached forward to press the delete button on the phone, only to have
Lisa fly over to interrupt him.

“Are you okay?” Lisa asked. “You’re looking a little sick.”
I am sick, he thought, shaking his head.

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Chapter Eighteen

Farrell was drunk again.
He knew that it was a bad habit to start, but he couldn’t help it. Lately, it

was all the comfort that he had in the evenings. Now, he understood why
Allen always sat there with that bleak look on his face with a drink in his
hand. When the lines were blurred like this, it was so much easier to function.

When Toyo came that night, he didn’t even bother to knock. He came

inside after using the key that Farrell had given him and shrugged off  his
jacket. He looked down at the box of  wine that Farrell was drinking, and he
walked forward and took a cup. The red liquid glistened in the glass, and
Farrell was strongly reminded of  his blood. It was almost like Toyo was
draining the box of  wine in the same way that he was Farrell’s energy and
resolve.

“What?” Toyo asked after taking a sip. “Last night you said that you

wanted me to have a drink with you. That’s what I’m doing.”

Farrell reached forward to grasp his hand, but Toyo scooted away.
Farrell began, “Toyo, I—”
Toyo swiftly drained his glass in one swift gulp and set it, now empty,

upon the table. After that, Toyo leaned forward to kiss him, and Farrell tasted
the wine on his lips and was disgusted at once—it tasted like blood.

After Toyo drew out his tongue with a slurp, he began to move his hands

down Farrell’s chest in the same way that he always did. His fingers were so
hot that they burned him—literally. His heart started to pound harder and
harder in his chest, but even as Toyo tore off his shirt and threw it onto the
floor, he could not get aroused.

He lay down, bare-chested, as Toyo climbed on top of him and began to

rub his crotch with his hand. Farrell started to feel sick to his stomach. I can’t
. . . I can’t . . . My body isn’t letting me do this . . . I can’t . . . Not like this . . . Not
until he tells me that he loves me and holds me close. He’s just going to leave me again, and
it’s going to hurt.

That was when Toyo flipped him over onto his stomach and reached

forward to yank off his pants. After that, he pulled them down Farrell’s legs

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and tossed them to the side. Farrell buried his face in the pillows and did not
move, even as Toyo stripped off his own pants and underwear and pressed
himself on top of him.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” Toyo breathed in his ear. “Are you

sick or something? Too drunk? Couldn’t you save your drinking sprees until
after we are done?”

The smell of Toyo’s breath should have been tantalizing, like the red

wine, but once again Farrell caught the scent of something metallic instead.
It’s all in my head, he thought, terrified. It’s my subconscious getting in the way because
I’ve been such a reckless little slut since Ty was taken away from me.

“Ugh,” Farrell said, burying his face into the pillows to get away from the

scent.

Toyo must have taken Farrell’s grunt of misery as a moan of pleasure,

because he grabbed the lubricant that he had brought and began to shove his
fingers into Farrell one at a time. Every time he did this, Farrell felt only the
pain and none of the pleasure that he usually did, and he gripped at the
couch for support as Toyo roughly used his hand to thrust inside of him
again and again.

After Toyo had moved on to three fingers, Farrell looked behind him and

saw that he was pulling on a condom. Because of all the sex that they had
been having lately, Toyo was able to thrust into Farrell easily. He did it again
and again and again. Farrell yelped, grabbing a hold of whatever he could,
and pretended not to smell Toyo’s breath as he panted into his ear.

Finally, Toyo was finished, and leaned against him, sweaty and spent.

Farrell lay there, eyes unfocused, as Toyo recovered. After a minute or so,
Toyo slid off him and sat on the edge of the couch. Farrell flipped over,
facing him.

“You didn’t come at all today,” Toyo said, examining him. He reached

forward to massage Farrell’s flaccid penis. “Here. I’ll just do—”

“No, I don’t want to!” Farrell cried, leaping away as a shocked look

crossed Toyo’s face.

“You don’t want to?” Toyo asked, looking stunned and hurt. “What do

you mean by that? Don’t you want some of the pleasure too? I want my

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partner to have fun just as much as I do.”

For a moment Farrell was silent. He had pushed himself, convinced that

being with Toyo only sexually was better than nothing at all. His body had
just shown him the truth—he was so in love with Toyo that it had to be all or
nothing. He wanted Toyo heart, body, and soul. It wasn’t like with Allen or
Charles, where a single piece of them was enough.

Farrell took a deep breath and said, “I cannot do this anymore, Toyo. I

love you too much. I’m giving you a choice now—you’re really in a
relationship with me, or aren’t with me at all.”

“I told you, Farrell,” Toyo said, breathing heavily and grabbing his pants

from the floor. “I—”

“Can’t be with you like that,” Farrell finished for him. “It hurts you too

much. I know. Well, this is turning out to hurt me too much.”

Toyo was silent.
“I’m sorry,” Farrell whispered, shuddering. “It was me who pressed the

sex deal on you because it’s what I’ve always done in the past—all of my
lovers have been half lovers, only in the body and not in the heart. I thought
that it would be enough. I thought that I could handle it . . . but you’re
different. You’re so different than everyone else that I can’t do what I
thought I could.”

Maybe he’ll change his mind, Farrell thought, keeping his eyes on the couch

to keep himself from crying. He was shaking from adrenaline, and he could
hear his heart pounding in his ears. He couldn’t believe that he was doing
this, couldn’t believe that he was giving up the one man he really loved.

“I guess it’s over then,” Toyo finally said.
All hope was gone now. Farrell knew that he could not return to work on

Monday and face Toyo again. He would have to find another job, another
place to go. He had started his life over again before, and maybe now would
be a good time to do it again. Third time’s a charm, he thought, grimacing. The
only problem was, in every change there was one common denominator—
himself.

Toyo silently pulled on his shirt as awkwardness filled the air. Farrell

stood up too, pulling on his pants and zipping them up. After he was fully

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dressed, he turned toward Toyo and smiled grimly. He was too numb right
now to do anything but that—in fact, he had crossed the line from sadness
into something worse.

“Consider this my resignation,” Farrell said. “I can’t work for you

anymore.”

“No,” Toyo said, finally tearing his eyes away from the floor. Farrell had

never heard him sound so forceful before. “Don’t do that. You don’t have to
do that—leave completely. It’s not that I don’t want you around. I do.”

Farrell sighed. “I told you, Toyo. With me, it’s all or nothing. I don’t have

anything that’s personal at the office. You can throw my things away or give
them to the others. I don’t care.”

Toyo looked panicked. “But what will you do? Where will you go?”
“That’s the beauty of it, Toyo,” Farrell said. “I don’t really know. I’ve

done this before. I’ll be all right. It was bound to happen the moment that I
stepped foot in your office, and you know it. We couldn’t live together
normally. We have too much history together.”

After that, Toyo didn’t say anything at all. Farrell squeezed his arm and

choked back another sob. The two of them surveyed each other carefully.

“I really do love you, Farrell,” Toyo said. “I’m sorry.”
Farrell replied, “I love you too. I’m sure that you’ll find somebody who

makes you happier than I ever could. Hell, you could ask Zane. He strikes me
as a man that likes to go to bat.”

Though Toyo laughed, there was no sparkle in his eyes. Instead they

looked as hard and as cold as stone in winter. “I don’t take another man’s
throwaways.”

“Then what the hell were you doing fucking me?” Farrell asked.
Once again there was silence as Toyo surveyed him. Farrell moved slowly

toward the door, but his eyes never once left Toyo’s face. He wanted to
memorize the way he looked, so that way he would always be able to
remember him clearly. He would do his best never to see Toyo in person
again, so he was going to have to make do with his memories, no matter how
painful and intense they were.

As Toyo stepped out the door, he whipped around and looked at Farrell

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with sad eyes. “Farrell, one last favor?”

“What is it?”
“Let me kiss you—just for old times’ sake, okay?” Toyo said.
Farrell was stunned. That was something a real lover might say. He

nodded, and Toyo stepped forward, giving him a deep, passionate kiss. This
time, it did not taste like blood, and for that he was grateful. Toyo’s taste, so
strong and incredible, was also something that he wanted to memorize. As
Toyo stepped away, looking sad, Farrell shuddered.

“Well, ’bye then,” Toyo replied as he turned around.
“Good-bye,” Farrell said, tears filling his eyes as he examined Toyo’s

back. He didn’t think that he would ever see it again.

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Chapter Nineteen

Two days later, Farrell sat watching television with a hole in his heart. He

had never felt lonelier in his entire life. It was as if  somebody had ripped out
his heart, and he was left all alone and stumbling, unsure of  himself. What
was he to do now? Ty was gone, ripped away from him. He’d never see Toyo
again if  he could help it, though sometimes he had to hold himself  down to
keep from running to the old office to beg him to have sex with him again.
But the same thing would just repeat itself, he thought, shutting his eyes in sadness.
He knew that if  Toyo had changed his mind, then he would come to find
him.

Just face it. The two of you aren’t meant to be . . . but then, why do I feel like shit?

Why can’t I get him out of  my head? With Allen, it had never been this bad.
Because of  Toyo, he found that he was filled with despair that was so
complete it made his body ache from head to toe. He couldn’t breathe,
couldn’t so much as think, without being filled with images of  Toyo.

He stared at the box of wine that was on his kitchen counter and

contemplated it. It would be so easy to drink, to flush his problems away in a
vat of  crimson. He had gone through three boxes in two days, and he was
just getting started. He wanted this pain in his heart to disappear—he didn’t
care if  he wandered the streets alone and lifeless. What did it matter to him?
It wasn’t like anybody cared about him anyway. Toyo hated him as much as
he loved him, and his parents hadn’t contacted him in years. He truly was all
alone. He didn’t even have any good friends besides his old teacher, who
probably just helped him out of  pity because she had never seen a more
disastrous person than he.

He stood up, heading toward the box of wine. He knew that he wanted

to drink it. It looked so delicious. The idea of having his mind become a fog
was wonderful—no more stress, no more anything. Just endless bliss.

Just when he was about to pour himself a glass, though, the phone rang.

He jumped. He was rarely contacted by anyone, so he had half forgotten that
he even had one. Nervously he approached it, thinking that it was just a
telemarketer. Heaven help them. He was on the verge of screaming at the first

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person he talked to. This was not the time for sales calls.

Farrell picked up. He opened his mouth, prepared to say, “Fuck you!” to

the person on the other end of the phone. Luckily, he was stopped by a voice
that he recognized, a voice that made his heart thud with love and adoration.

“Dad!” Ty cried into the phone.
He heard Pam say in the background, “For God’s sake, don’t call him

that! He’s not really your dad.”

It was Ty—his Ty. Before he could stop himself, he started to cry. Tears

poured down his cheeks so heavily that they drizzled onto his shirt. For a
long time, he couldn’t speak. For some reason he had felt as if Ty was dead.
It was like he was being revisited from the grave.

“Oh God, Ty,” Farrell said. “I’m so, so sorry. I miss you so much.”
Ty said, “I miss you too, Dad!”
It was painful and wonderful to discover that Ty sounded really, truly

happy. He didn’t need met. Yet, I’m glad that he’s okay. I’m glad that he doesn’t think
that I abandoned him. He was smiling now—smiling and crying.

“Your mom doesn’t sound too happy with you calling me Dad,” Farrell

said, shaking his head. “Are you okay, Ty? How is she? Are you scared?”

Ty laughed into the phone. “It’s really great here. Don’t you worry, either.

You are my dad. I don’t care what Mom says. Guess what’s happened!
Guess!”

Farrell smiled. “What?”
“Mom is going to let me come stay with you during the summer if I’m

good,” Ty replied. “I was annoying her all the time talking about you. She
says she needs to talk to you, though. Is it okay that I come? Tell me that it’s
okay.”

The tears that Farrell was crying did not stop, but they changed from

tears of confusion to tears of joy. Ty wasn’t gone for good. Pam had kept her
promise after all. He had a reason to be alive—somebody loved him that he
cared about. That was good enough. Maybe it wasn’t Toyo realizing that he
needed him, but still . . .

“Of course it’s okay, Ty,” Farrell said. “I love you. You can come

whenever you want. That’s still a long time away, though . . .”

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“It’ll be here before you know it,” Ty responded. “Plus, Mom says I can

call you once a week, even though it’s long distance. Sorry it took me so long
to get back to you. Mom said that she wanted me to adjust here first, but you
know . . .”

Farrell grinned. “So you like it there? Is your mom doing better?”
For a moment Ty hesitated. Farrell felt his heart pound with worry. It was

never good when Ty hesitated.

“Yeah, though she always starts off fine,” Ty admitted. “But this time, I

think that it’s going to work out for the better. She really likes her job, and
there’s this neighbor boy that’s really nice. I like it here okay.”

“I’m glad, Ty,” Farrell said with full honesty this time. “Really, really

glad.”

“My mom wants to talk to you,” Ty repeated.
“Okay, Ty,” Farrell replied. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Dad. Talk to you on Saturday. Mom says that maybe I

can go online, so that way we can see each other too! Do you have a
computer? One with a camera?”

“Yes,” Farrell said.
“Then maybe we can do that! My mom has one.”
After that, there was the sound of scrambling in the background, and

Farrell realized that Ty was handing his phone over to his mother. There was
garbled talking, and then the sound of strained breathing. Ty’s mother didn’t
sound excited to be talking to him.

“Hello, Farrell,” Pam said.
“Hey, Pam,” he replied. He bit back all of the nasty things that were

climbing up his throat. At least she was letting Ty talk to him. “How is Ty
doing?”

“He’s fine—he struggled a bit at first and always wanted to talk to you.

Now, he’s doing better. Since when did he call you Dad? You weren’t with
him that long. He’s getting confused. I mean, it’s sure as hell that you aren’t
his daddy. You’re so gay that I don’t think that you’ve ever seen a pussy.”

“I have.” Farrell laughed, suddenly finding the whole situation funny. “It

wasn’t to my liking—turns out I like dogs instead.”

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“Yeah, well, Allen sure as hell was a dog,” Pam admitted. “Maybe we have

that kind of attraction in common.”

For a moment Farrell replayed the sound of Allen’s solemn voice on his

answering machine, and he was filled with pity. Was Allen an asshole? Yes, he
was. Did he have problems in life? Yes, he did. He suddenly didn’t feel much
like thrashing him anymore. The only thing that he felt for him was pity.

“He’s not all bad,” Farrell said.
“Oh damn, son,” Pam cried. “What planet are you living on? He’s a piece

of shit, and you know it. I’m glad that Ty isn’t like him.”

Farrell chuckled. “So what did you need to talk to me about?”
“The summer—you okay with taking him? Three months out of the

year?” Pam asked him. She acted as if she expected him to say no.

“Of course! I would take him for more than that, too,” Farrell said. “Why

wouldn’t I want him? Ty is an amazing kid.”

“Because one thing I’ve learned is that sometimes, once a man gets a

taste of freedom again,” Pam said, “he doesn’t much want the responsibility
back. I’ve seen it happen before. You just thought that you wanted Ty, but
then you really didn’t—next thing I know I’m getting a phone call from my
baby saying that Dad didn’t show up. If he’s calling you Dad, then I at least
want you to earn the right.”

“Trust me,” Farrell responded, “I love him. Nothing is changing here. I

want him to come stay with me.”

Pam was silent for a moment. Her voice was distant as she said, “Ty, go

get me a pack of cigarettes, will you? Not the shitty kind—yes, those. There
should be some in my bedroom. I can’t remember where I left the pack,
though.”

“Pam!” Farrell cried.
Pam returned to the phone and said, “Sorry about that. Had to get the

kid out of the room first. I just wanted to thank you for whatever you did.
Guess I didn’t realize how much you helped him. He was always real sullen
with me before, and whenever I talked about shit, he got upset. Now he’s
happy—he needed a daddy, even if you’re not his real one. I’m real set about
changing my ways, but I was wrong to rip him away from you like that.”

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“He helped me too,” Farrell admitted. “Thank you for sending him to

me. Thanks for letting me see him and talk to him and—and . . .”

“Ah, shit,” Pam said. “Why are you crying? Things are going to be just

fine. You’ll see him plenty. Like I said, you’re his proper daddy now. I expect
you to earn it by being around a lot. Feel free to come down whenever you
want. I don’t care.”

“Do you mean that?” Farrell asked, sniffling. Suddenly, life didn’t seem so

bad.

“Yes, I do,” Pam said. “A gay dad is better than no dad at all—shit, honey,

you didn’t find them? Guess I’ll have to look myself. Let me say good-bye to
Farrell first. Then I’ll go look around.”

“Good-bye, Pam,” Farrell said. “Thanks again.”
“’Bye now,” Pam said.
In the background, Farrell heard Ty yelling, “Good-bye, Dad! I love you.”
After that, he put down the phone with another sob and smiled. He

picked up the box of wine and carried it over to the garbage. Never again, he
thought, shoving it away.

* * * *

The next day, he sat at his laptop looking at job openings. He was done

with being a slacker. He may not have had Toyo’s love like he wanted, but he
could at least live. Maybe this time around he could use his job experience to
get himself better employment. The only problem with that were his
references. Could he really put down Toyo, his ex-lover, or Warren, the man
who put the “ass” in “asshole”? He grimaced. I have to at least try.

As he scanned the list, there was the sound of somebody knocking loudly

at his door. For a moment he ignored it, but it grew more persistent. Though
he tried not to, his first thought was Toyo. What if he was back? What if he
had changed his mind? Don’t even think that way, Farrell reprimanded himself,
standing up and heading over to the door.

When he opened it up, he saw Allen standing there on the other side. The

moment that Farrell looked at him, Allen dropped to his knees with a thud

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and started to cry. Farrell balked, wondering what to do, when he saw his
neighbors exit their apartment. It was the young couple, and this time they
were not drunk. They stopped and stared at Allen without even having the
decency of pretending to be in the middle of a conversation.

“Please take me back!” Allen wailed, tears streaming down his face.
Farrell saw his female neighbor press her hand to her mouth. Her face

grew steadily paler. Immediately, his neck grew hot. He couldn’t believe that
Allen was doing this now of all times.

“Get up, Allen,” Farrell said. “Don’t beg. This is ridiculous.”
Farrell leaned downward in order to pull Allen to his feet, but instead of

stumbling upward, he seized Farrell and started to yank at him. As Farrell
looked into Allen’s eyes, he felt his heart beat faster—those eyes were Ty’s
eyes. When they were filled with tears like that, so desperate and sad, Allen
could be Ty. Worse yet, Farrell recognized the state that Allen was in. It was
the exact same one that he himself had been in before Ty’s saving-grace
phone call.

For a moment Farrell hesitated. Allen didn’t deserve his mercy. He most

certainly hadn’t been kind to Farrell over the years . . . Yet, Allen had been his
partner nevertheless. He had also brought Ty into his life. Farrell could not
blame Allen for everything, especially since he knew how fucked up life could
be.

“Let me go, and come inside,” Farrell said. “We’ll talk.”
Allen’s bottom lip trembled.
“Come on,” Farrell continued. “Up we go.”
Finally, Allen stumbled to his feet and clung on to Farrell’s arm. Farrell

led him inside and positioned him on the couch and padded to the kitchen to
get him a cup of coffee. Even as the sound of his coffee machine filled the
air, he could still hear Allen’s sobbing from the couch. It sounded so sad and
lonely and sick.

A moment later Farrell went over to Allen with the coffee in hand and

sat down. Allen continued to sniffle. His face was red and blotchy, he had
snot running down his face, and he was trembling.

“Don’t you have anything stronger than this? Something with power?”

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Allen asked him.

“No,” Farrell said, “I won’t have alcohol in my house anymore. It’s too

much of a temptation for me, apparently.”

Allen raised an eyebrow, shoulders shaking, and slurped down some of

his coffee. For a moment Farrell wondered whether Allen was actually going
to say anything. Farrell certainly didn’t have any intention of taking Allen
back. He couldn’t love Allen in that way anymore, not after he had learned
what it was supposed to feel like.

Finally, Allen began to speak. “I’m sorry about . . . what I did.”
Farrell grimaced. “Let’s just forget about all that, okay? It’s ancient

history. You weren’t the only one to blame. I didn’t respect myself enough to
give you shit about what you were doing wrong—I think that I knew deep
down that I wasn’t the only one in your life. I was just too afraid of being
alone to really see it until I saw you bare-assed on the bed with that college
student.”

“Want to try it again?” Allen asked. “Being together?”
“You and I?” Farrell questioned. He let out a laugh. “No, this time I

think I’m going to try and grow up a little bit—being alone isn’t the end of
the world.”

Allen was quiet. “That’s really too bad, you know. I've missed you a hell

of a lot.”

Farrell patted his arm gently and went to refill his coffee cup. It was odd

seeing Allen here in his apartment. Only a little while ago, Allen had filled his
heart with so much rage that he would have started punching him on the
spot. Now, he didn’t feel anger at all.

When he returned, Allen was starting to look slightly better, though his

lips still had a bluish hue to them. Farrell passed him another cup of coffee.

“Thanks for this,” Allen said. “I really am an asshole, huh?”
Farrell laughed. “Yeah, you are—but you’re now an asshole who is my

friend.”

“A friend?” Allen asked, eyebrow raised. “Do you honestly think that we

can go back to all that after what we’ve been through together?”

“We’ve got to try,” Farrell said.

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“Because I’ve fucked up too badly,” Allen said in summary, running his

hands through his hair in stress. “Because I was such a shit, I lost the best
lover that I’ve ever had. You were something else—I only realized it after you
left. I love you, Farrell.”

For a moment Farrell was quiet, and then he reached forward and ruffled

Allen’s hair. Allen turned toward him, looking hopeful, but Farrell shook his
head and saw Allen’s face fall. Though he wasn’t sure that Allen wanted it,
Farrell reached forward and hugged him.

Allen hugged him back so hard that Farrell felt the air release from his

lungs with a squeak. The two of them were silent after that. Farrell knew that
now, after all this time, he was finally letting go—of the hurt that Allen had
caused him, and so much more.

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Chapter Twenty

New Graphic Designer Needed

Must have strong work ethic. Bachelor’s degree preferred,

but not mandatory. Relocation necessary. The graphic designer
will be working at our side branch in Texas.

Contact Candace Nielson at the number specified below.

He couldn’t believe it—Candace Nielson, the woman who had loved his

drawings so much, was looking for a graphic designer. He knew that it was a
long shot, but he didn’t have much to lose. Being a graphic designer would be
a dream job for him. I would have to be the luckiest man in the world to get this job,
he thought, even if it is in Texas.

But if he lived in Texas, he would be far closer to Ty. Going from

Oregon to New York was a long trip. It might even be better for him that
Candace was employing people for the Texas branch and not for the Oregon
one.

He shook his head, deciding to keep such thoughts away until he actually

got the job—no, if he actually got the job. Right before he dialed the number,
though, his head was filled with thoughts of Toyo and the way his face had
looked as they made love. Tears filled his eyes. When are you going to get it
through your head that he doesn’t want you? There is nothing for you here. You should get a
fresh start again—but this time, you’ll do it the right way.

He dialed the number and heard someone say, “Candace Nielson’s office.

How may I help you today?”

He opened his mouth and began to speak.

* * * *

He got the job.
The moment he explained his current situation, Candace had told him

that he could pack his bags because she wanted him. “I loved your logo,”
Candace had gushed over the phone. “I can’t believe Toyo ever let you go—
he always talked about your superior work ethic. Our Texas office could

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really use you.”

It was hard to believe that this was happening. He was going to be closer

to Ty, and he was going to be making sixty-five thousand dollars a year.
Maybe he could even buy a house, so that way Ty could have a backyard to
play in instead of sitting around watching television all the time.

He tried very, very hard not to think about leaving Toyo behind, but

sometimes, it snuck up on him and hit him in the gut—like when he had
gone out to lunch with Allen and had to walk by the office. Farrell
remembered every gut-wrenching, heartfelt moment at that place. It was all
over now, though.

As the bus Farrell rode on rattled to a stop, he was jostled from his own

thoughts and focused on where he was going now. Allen was meeting him to
help him get a new suitcase for the plane ride out to Texas. He was going to
have to get an apartment—or maybe a condo—and he wanted to look at the
area before he settled in. He didn’t want to go anywhere that was bad for Ty.

Allen was waiting for Farrell in front of the store when he climbed out

of the bus. It was ironic that, while Allen had been his lover, he had been late
for every function—or didn’t show up at all—but now he was always on
time. If it wasn’t for his constant hints about them getting back together,
then Farrell would have been very glad to have him as a friend.

“Hey, Farrell,” Allen said. “Looks like they’re having a sale—fifty percent

off. You’re lucky.”

“Yeah.” Farrell grinned. “Looks like I am.”
The two of them punched each other in the arm and went inside. There

were suitcases everywhere, from the richest brands to the poorest designs.
Farrell mingled in the area in between poor and rich, examining rolling bags
that were bright red with black metal hangings. He was looking at a price tag
when he heard a familiar voice talking in the row behind him. He
immediately stiffened—it was Zane.

He started thinking about Toyo again and the time that he had gotten so

jealous at the office. It was a memory that he didn’t want to revisit because it
brought him too much pain. Screw a fifty-percent discount. I want to get out of here
now.

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Across the way, Allen was looking at leather duffel bags. His face was

glowing with excitement. Farrell was about to wave him over discreetly, but it
was already too late.

“Hey, Farrell!” Allen cried, holding up one of the bags and waving it

around excitedly. “Check it out! It’s the perfect carry-on bag for you.”

Maybe he won’t look, Farrell thought hopefully, cringing. That was when

Zane’s head whipped around the corner, and his eyes lit up when he saw
Farrell standing in the middle of the aisle. Farrell’s hands drooped at his
sides. He was going to kill Allen. How was he going to get out of sexual
molestation this time, especially since Toyo was not around to protect him?

“Farrell!” Zane said, running around the corner and grinning from ear to

ear. “How are you doing? Going on a trip?”

Zane was currently wearing a bright pink T-shirt and a pair of overly

tight jeans. At his side was a skinny, pale man who had very inky black hair.
The man with the inky black hair appeared hesitant to follow Zane, and
Farrell could understand his feelings—already, he wanted to melt into the
floor and die.

In curiosity, Allen trotted over with one of his beloved leather duffel bags

in tow. Farrell wanted to beat him over the head with it.

“Hello, Zane,” Farrell said timidly. “How are you?”
“Oh, the same, the same,” Zane said, seizing Farrell’s hand and

immediately squeezing it in an inappropriate way. The inky-haired man stared
and made a sound out of the back of his throat in utter disgust. Immediately,
Zane dropped Farrell’s hands as if he had been burned. “Freckles, I hear that
you aren’t working with Toyo anymore. Was working with your lover too hard
for you?”

That was when Allen dropped the duffel bag with a loud thud. Farrell

trembled, his face growing hot because of the nickname. It brought
memories of being taken behind the desk with Toyo thrusting inside of him.

“Who is this?” Zane asked curiously, looking at Allen. “A friend?”
“Yes, this is my friend Allen—Allen, this is Zane,” Farrell said, his voice

soft. He was still too embarrassed to look either of them in the eye. “He was
just helping me, but I think that we’re done now, so we’re going to be on our

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way.”

Farrell grabbed ahold of Allen’s arm and started to steer him toward the

exit, but Zane’s hand shot out and hauled him backward. Farrell turned
around, facing Zane once more, and saw that his inky-haired companion had
turned a bright and fluorescent red. At least one of them had the decency of
a human being.

“What’s the occasion?” Zane asked curiously. “What brings you shopping

for suitcases? A vacation”—Zane’s eyes lingered on Allen for a moment—
“with a new lover, perhaps?”

Though Farrell opened his mouth to speak, it was Allen who answered

first. Everyone was silent in surprise.

“No, Farrell is going away—far away,” Allen said, a threatening edge to

his voice. “He got a new job and is going to look at apartments. He won’t be
back. Ever.”

A shocked expression crossed Zane’s face, and then he got oddly serious.

Farrell wasn’t sure why, but the expression made him uneasy.

“Does Toyo know this?” Zane asked.
Finally, Farrell found himself losing his temper too. What business was it

of Zane’s who he was sleeping with or dating? Plus, every time Zane
mentioned Toyo’s name, it was like somebody was hitting a hammer against
his skull again and again. He didn’t want to think about who he was leaving
behind. He wanted to go and not care anymore.

“No, Toyo doesn’t know this,” Farrell said sharply. “It doesn’t matter,

does it? I gave him the choice—he doesn’t want me. End of story. Just leave
it alone, for God’s sake. Come on, Allen. Let’s go. There are bound to be
other stores.”

Farrell marched out of the store and was not stopped this time. As they

stumbled out onto the sidewalk, though, he still felt nervous. Zane had not
worn a pretty look on his face as they left. Plus, all this talk of Toyo had put
him in a bad mood. He didn’t want to think about his ex-lover-who-hadn’t-
really-been-his-lover.

Allen looked at him curiously as they headed toward a department store,

but Farrell cut him off by saying, “Don’t ask. You don’t want to know.”

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Chapter Twenty-One

Despite his worries, Farrell did not hear from Zane again for a few days.

Instead, he was left alone to pack his things and prepare for his move. It was
odd to see his apartment so empty, yet at the same time, he found it sad how
few personal things he actually had. He could have left it all behind him
without even a little problem.

He did his best to ignore his high school yearbook that he had found. He

had no idea why he had kept it all of this time. He laid it on top of all his
other books that were to be packed, though a big part of him wanted to hurl
it out the window and forget all about it.

As he turned toward his kitchenware and packed away his utensils,

though, it called his name. It was practically screaming, “Open me! Open me!”
He looked at it, hesitating, and then finally stood above it. He didn’t want to
open it—it only promised him a great deal of mental anguish and pain.

But he sat down, and the next thing he knew, it was open in his lap.
He flipped through the pages until he saw many pictures of school

dances and parties. At the homecoming dance, he was standing in front of
the camera with a pretty girl he couldn’t remember on his arm. What startled
him, though, was that Toyo was watching him in the background.

Toyo was in a tuxedo, but was dateless. Though Farrell had given him hell

all the time, the look on his face was of utter adoration. Farrell trembled as
he looked at it. How could he not have noticed that he was being watched
like that?

As Farrell looked at the picture, he felt close to tears. Toyo didn’t look

bad at all. In fact, Farrell would still make love with Toyo, even if he got
heavier again. There was still that wide-eyed expression and spirit there that
he had missed when he was in high school, something that he had grown to
love.

He turned the page again, this time seeing the school lunchroom. It had

to have been at the beginning of the year, because Toyo was still there.
Farrell, skinny as a beanpole and cackling madly with his arm around yet
another girl, was sitting near the window like usual. Toyo was some distance

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away with massive piles of food in front of him, and once again, Toyo was
watching him.

This is weird, Farrell thought, flipping the page. Why is he always so aware of

me? He doesn’t look angry either—sometimes sad, but never angry. He flipped the
page, seeing himself appear in focus time and time again, as all popular kids
were. In all the ones in the beginning, highlighting the first of the school
year, Toyo had been there, watching him with bright eyes . . . until he wasn’t.
Just like now.

Is it possible that he was in love with me then? Farrell wondered, eyes wide. Even

though I was such an asshole?

As his heart thudded with hope and pain, he slammed the book closed

and then threw it across the room with a bang. He shouldn’t have gotten his
hopes up like that—it was ridiculous. He and Toyo were over. It didn’t matter
what had happened in the past, because that was all that it would ever be—
past.

Farrell choked again and looked around at all of his things. He couldn’t

do this now. Depression was already filling his stomach like a hot, bubbling
soup. Though the sun had just barely begun to fall, he felt exhausted and
wanted nothing more than to see his pillows. He would have all the next day
to pack anyway.

Shakily, he clambered to his feet and went to bed, where he fell asleep

and was presented with images of Toyo.

* * * *

Click. Bang. Clack. Click. Click.
Those were the first noises that Farrell heard as he sat up from a restless

sleep at ten o’clock that night. He glanced both ways, feeling disoriented,
wondering whether he was dreaming. But then he realized that he wasn’t.

A burglar? Farrell wondered in fear, trembling in his bed. He wondered

what was better: sitting there waiting for the thief to come at him or facing
the person straight on. In panic, Farrell quietly crept around the room for
something that he could use as a weapon. Eventually, he managed to get the

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rod in his closet off, and he had himself a fine, though hollow, metal bat.

He hesitantly peeked out of his bedroom and looked down the hall,

seeing no one. The kitchen, Farrell thought, heading down the hall and
tiptoeing the whole way. When he rounded the corner and caught sight of
the kitchen, he saw a person dressed all in black crouched on the floor,
flipping through the yearbook that Farrell had thrown earlier. It took just a
moment for Farrell to realize who it was—it was Toyo.

Farrell’s heart started to pound, and the metal rod hit the floor with a

bang. That was when Toyo leaped to his feet and then pressed his hand to his
chest, his face ashen in shock. Both of them were breathing heavily, ogling
each other.

“Christ, Farrell,” Toyo said. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I scared the shit out of you!” Farrell cried. “How did you get into my

apartment? I thought that you were a thief.”

Toyo held up the key that Farrell had given him when they were still

having sex. His eyes widened. Of course, Toyo still had a key. How could he
have forgotten that?

That was when realization occurred as the shock wore off—Toyo was

here in his apartment in the flesh, even though Farrell had sworn never to see
him again. Already, Toyo’s face was like water to him, and he felt so
dehydrated that he could die. Farrell wanted to leap over and kiss him, but
instead he turned around, if only to maintain his own self-control.

“Why are you here, Toyo?” Farrell asked. “Don’t you remember what I

said?”

Toyo quietly approached him and placed his hand on Farrell’s shoulder.

In response, Farrell smacked it away, though it was hard on him to do so. He
didn’t want to dare to hope, because that would only lead to what he
feared—more heartbreak. He couldn’t handle that. Not again.

“Why are you leaving?” Toyo said quietly.
Farrell breathed heavily five times and then said, “It shouldn’t matter to

you, should it? I mean, we weren’t ever going to see each other again, were
we? Ty’s mother is letting Ty come back to me. My new home is a bit closer.
Candace offered me a job.”

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“Zane told me some of that,” Toyo said, not moving.
“Why are you here?” Farrell repeated.
For a moment there was quiet, and then Farrell felt a hot, heavy hand

land on his shoulder again. He was half torn between hitting it off again or
letting it remain there. He froze, his breath catching in his chest, and he
wished that he could say something—anything—that was clever.

“I made a mistake, okay?” Toyo said. “At first I thought that staying away

from you was the best thing too, but then I couldn’t get you out of my
head—the way you smelled, the way you tasted. I’ve been with other guys,
but none of them could even compare. I missed you at work, and I missed
being able to come here after work. I realized that I was being an idiot, living
in the past pains when the person that I’d wanted for so long finally came to
me.”

Farrell’s eyes flickered toward the open yearbook that was on the floor.

Though he couldn’t see the pictures, he imagined them, seeing Toyo’s eyes
always following him and never letting him go.

“I was in love with you in high school, Farrell,” Toyo said. “I don’t think

that I ever really fell out of love with you—that was what hurt me so bad
when you said the things that you did. It wasn’t because it was coming from
just anyone. The words were coming from you, the person that I wanted so
badly that I stayed up all night thinking about what it would be like to be with
you. But I got bitter when time passed.”

Finally, Farrell turned around. He was torn between feeling guilt, joy, and

sadness. On top of that, he was confused about Toyo. What if he changed
his mind again? Would he leave him stranded and alone as Allen, along with
so many others, had? He had so much to offer the world now, what with
working with Candace and everything. Did he really trust Toyo enough to put
his new job aside just like that?

“Toyo,” Farrell said, “I’m sorry about all that . . . I understand that you

got bitter. I was a complete and utter asshole. I was scared myself back
then—of my sexuality, of my future.”

Toyo took a step toward him and cupped his cheeks. His brown eyes

looked very sad as he said, “Don’t leave, Farrell. Please, please don’t leave.”

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“If I don’t leave, then you have to promise me that you won’t either,”

Farrell said. “I’ve seen this happen before. You think that you want me now,
and then you’re going to realize that it’s not all that it’s cracked up to be
and—”

Just when he was about to begin his rant, Toyo leaned downward and

kissed him deeply, his tongue plunging into his mouth. Finally, he could drink
again, and he had been so thirsty. He grasped the back of Toyo’s strong back
and moaned in pleasure. The two of them broke apart, panting.

“Think that we can make it to the bed this time?” Farrell breathed,

nuzzling him.

Toyo responded by kissing him tenderly and gently in a way that he had

never done before. There was no roughness now, only tenderness. He slipped
his hands underneath Farrell’s shirt and began to fondle his nipples. Since
Toyo’s hands were cold, the action gave him a shock.

“Not a chance, Freckles,” Toyo said, panting heavily. “I’ve got everything

that we need right here.”

The two of them fell to the floor among the boxes and the dust. Toyo

stripped off Farrell’s shirt and tossed it to one side and devoured his nipples
again, using his tongue to make slow, deliberate licks. After that, he moved
forward and nibbled on Farrell’s ear, but Farrell pushed him over before he
could get any farther.

“My turn,” Farrell said, straddling him. He slipped his hand inside of

Toyo’s pants and grabbed ahold of his massive erection.

Toyo moaned and bucked his hips before reaching forward and squeezing

Farrell’s butt, and then he ran his first two fingers into the crack down the
middle. Quickly, he rubbed harder and harder, until Farrell panted with
pleasure. Farrell was just about to massage Toyo to his finishing point when
Toyo grabbed his hand, stopping him.

“Uh-uh,” Toyo said. “There are things that I want to do to you with

that.”

After that, he took Farrell’s index finger and began to suck on it. It was

hot and wet inside of Toyo’s mouth, and Farrell shut his eyes, feeling tingly
with want. He began to hastily undo Toyo’s shirt and fly.

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Once he was done, Toyo’s lavender button-up shirt wide open, Farrell

leaned forward and caressed the hard muscles beneath his fingers. Toyo had
such definition that it was incredible. He ran his hand upward, massaging the
dark triangle of hair above Toyo’s wide-open fly, where his erection peeked
out.

“Let’s not wait any longer,” Farrell said, unbuckling his own pants

hurriedly.

He could hardly stop himself from riding Toyo. He stood up briefly and

stepped out of his pants, leaving him bare-assed. After that, he straddled
Toyo again, and Toyo grinned and slipped his finger into him as Farrell play
rubbed on top. Toyo moaned in pleasure, as did Farrell.

That was when the phone rang above them, jolting them from the heat

of the moment. Farrell panted, ignoring it, leaning forward to give Toyo a
kiss. Toyo, however, laid his eyes on the kitchen counter and sat up and
reached his hand upward to grab the phone. Still, he did not remove his
finger from Toyo’s ass.

“What are you doing?” Farrell squeaked, wriggling his hips. “For God’s

sake, answer my phone later. Why do you care so much, anyway? It's not even
your phone!”

Toyo made a face. “Because I’ve been told about the guy you were with,

Allen, and I happened to hear his lovely phone message at work that you
forgot to erase. If it’s him, I just want to send him a message.”

“Toyo!” Farrell cried.
“See, it is him!” Toyo said, looking at the caller ID. He pressed the phone

to his ear and said, “He’s spoken for. Leave us be.”

After that, Toyo tossed the phone to the side and thrust his finger inside

of Farrell when he was least expecting it. Farrell moaned, his eyes rolling,
and he pushed Allen far into the back of his mind. It was hard to think of
anyone but Toyo during a moment like this.

Then Toyo removed his finger from Farrell’s ass and pushed him over,

onto the floor. Farrell was stunned, but he wasn’t that way for long. Toyo was
on top of him, massaging Farrell’s cock with his free hand. He leaned in
really close to Farrell’s ear and stuck his tongue inside of it, breathing heavily.

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“Oh God!” Farrell said as Toyo rubbed him from top to bottom. “Toyo,

please!”

“Louder,” Toyo purred in his ear, slowing his rubbing.
Scrambling in confusion, wanting Toyo to stop his torture and come

inside him already, Farrell said, “What? Why are you slowing down?”

“Louder,” Toyo said, nibbling on his ear. “The louder you go, the faster

I’ll go.”

“That’s just silly. My neighbors will hear.”
“Well, then”—Toyo withdrew his hand completely, leaving Farrell in

pain—“I’ll have to finish the rub later.”

Shuddering, Farrell shot a look at the door. Chances were good that his

neighbors weren’t home anyway. Oh hell, who was he kidding? He really,
really wanted that hand job. He wanted Toyo to rub him until he came, and
then he wanted Toyo to thrust inside of him until he felt so hot he could
melt.

“I’ll do it,” Farrell said.
“Good,” Toyo replied, gently massaging Farrell’s tip again. “Let’s hear

that beautiful voice of yours, Freckles. Make it loud.”

For a moment Farrell hesitated, but then Toyo started to stop again, so

he cried out, “Toyo!”

“Louder,” Toyo demanded playfully, rubbing more furiously now.
This isn’t so bad, he thought, feeling his hips buck. Before he knew it he

was crying out, “Toyo! Toyo! Toyo!” over and over again. As Toyo continued
to rub him from tip to balls, using both hands now, his yelling of pleasure
turned real. He grasped Toyo’s shoulders and shuddered. The two of them
made eye contact.

“Toyo, oh God! Toyo! Toyo! Toyo!” Farrell cried.
Finally, he came in three spurts all over Toyo’s hand and collapsed,

sweaty, onto the floor. Toyo wiped his hand on his pants, even though they
were black slacks. After that, he gave Farrell a long, hard kiss with his tongue
thrusting in and out of him. As he did so, Farrell could feel his hard cock
against his leg. It’s almost time, he thought. When Toyo was inside him, it felt
so hot.

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“Good boy, Freckles,” Toyo whispered, licking Farrell’s bottom lip

playfully. “Are you ready for step two?”

Farrell, trembling, nodded. Toyo sat up and put a condom on his

throbbing erection, and then he pulled out a small bottle of lubricant, poured
some on his hand, and rubbed it all over his penis. He was about to mount
Farrell, but Farrell stopped him and said, “Please. I want to ride you this
time. Can I?”

“Is that even a question?” Toyo said, grinning and lying on his back.

Though his pants were still on, they were wide open, and his cock was out.
“Here.”

Farrell took the lubricant that Toyo handed him and kneeled for a

moment, using his own fingers to insert the sticky gel. As he did this,
thrusting his own fingers inside of himself again and again, Toyo licked his
lips in enjoyment and grinned. Before Farrell squatted to ride him, he leaned
forward and gave him a tender kiss.

“I love you,” Farrell whispered.
“I love you too,” Toyo responded, grabbing Farrell’s hips and steadying

him to help him get the proper position.

After that, Farrell leaned backward and eased himself on top of Toyo’s

cock. When Toyo finally filled him, he let out a loud cry of joy and shut his
eyes, thrusting up and down as forcefully as he could. Toyo moaned
rhythmically, holding his ass farther open with his hands, so that way Farrell
could get in deeper.

This time, Farrell did not have to be prompted to start crying out. With

every move of his hips, he yelled Toyo’s name over and over again. He shut
his eyes and pressed his fingers against Toyo’s sweaty chest, feeling his hard
muscles.

Just when he was about to come, Toyo grabbed him and flipped him

over, thrusting into him so deeply that Farrell had to grip the wall to stop
himself from skidding across the linoleum. Toyo grunted, filling him
completely at that moment with one final, passionate thrust, and then fell on
top of him, inert.

“Can’t . . . breathe . . .” Farrell said.

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“Sorry,” Toyo whispered, rolling off of him and lying at his side on the

floor. He grabbed Farrell’s hand and held it, even though they were both
sweaty.

As he recovered, he noticed that something was very odd—there was the

sound of static or something. He sat up, even though Toyo grabbed him by
the waist and tried to hold him down.

“Do you hear something?” Farrell asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Toyo replied. “Sit back down. This isn’t the time to

go after a stray noise.”

“You answered the phone in the middle of having sex . . .” Farrell

grumbled. “How’s that for insult? I want to figure it out.”

That was when he laid eyes on the phone. It was still on. He saw that the

screen said “talk” in bold letters even from where he sat, and then he recalled
Toyo’s words: “The louder you go, the faster I’ll go.” His eyes narrowed. Toyo
couldn’t be that vindictive, could he? Allen could not be on the phone,
listening to them having sex.

He reached over and grabbed it, pressing the receiver to his ear. Sure

enough, there was the sound of a television in the background, as well as
heavy breathing in his ear. It was a type of breathing that he recognized.

“Please tell me that you aren’t jacking off right now,” Farrell said.
“Jesus Christ,” Allen said on the other end of the phone, and then there

was the sound of scrambling.

Farrell’s eyes narrowed. “You were, weren’t you?”
“It’s not my fault. You and your new boyfriend were making all those

noises. What the hell was he doing to you, anyway? During all our time
together, you never ever made sounds like that.”

Farrell hung up the phone without responding and laid eyes on Toyo. His

mouth tightened. “Toyo! I changed my mind. Out, out!”

Then Toyo sat up too, looking sheepish. He ignored Farrell’s demand as

well as his pointed finger.

“How was I supposed to know that the phone was still on?”
“You left it on purposely!” Farrell cried. “I remember what you said to

me about being loud. How could you do that? Do you want me to be a porn

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star? It was vindictive and cruel and—umph!”

With speed that Farrell didn’t imagine was possible, Toyo reached

forward and kissed him furiously enough that he felt as though his body had
caught on fire. When they broke apart, he was too busy panting to continue
his rant. Toyo nuzzled his ear in a way that gave him tingles and kissed him at
the crook of his neck.

“I just wanted to show him his place,” Toyo whispered, nibbling on his

earlobe. “That’s not so bad, is it? You aren’t really going to kick me out, are
you, Freckles?”

The nickname gave him pleasant shivers. He shook his head and sighed.

How could he kick Toyo out when he looked like that?

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Chapter Twenty-Two

Farrell lay in bed with Toyo at his side. They had just made love again—

well, twice, in fact. Toyo was spent, but still awake, rubbing Farrell’s side
tenderly, in the way that he had wanted. A big part of him had worried that it
still wouldn’t be easy for them to be together after all the history that they
had, but his worries had proven to be unfounded. They still weren’t perfect,
but they were happy with each other, which was all that mattered.

As Farrell felt Toyo’s hand intertwine with his own as he snuggled up to

him, he looked fondly at the wall of his apartment and felt his stomach
plummet. The lease on this place had ended, and since he had thought that
he was moving, he had let it go to somebody else. He was going to have to
leave.

“What’s the matter, Freckles?” Toyo purred, sitting up and kissing his

shoulder. “You just got all stiff, but not in a good way.”

“Shit,” Farrell said. “I’ve changed the lease on my apartment, and all of

my mail is going to be forwarded to my new address. On top of that, I don’t
have a job! Candace is going to kill me.”

Toyo smiled at him. “Well, I think all those things are fixable.”
“They are?”
“Oh yeah . . .”
Toyo leaned forward and gave him a lingering kiss. After that, his eyes

focused on the wall as Toyo began to rub his back with his free hand.

“Move in with me, Farrell,” Toyo prompted.
“What? We just barely got together! Don’t you think that would be

pushing the envelope a little bit?” Farrell cried.

“Not at all,” Toyo said. “You love me, and I love you. We could live

together, work together, and be together always. You know that you want to.
That’s what a relationship is, isn’t it?”

For a moment Farrell said nothing at all. He could see this going so

badly. What if  he and Toyo couldn’t handle it? What if  everything went to
shit? He loved Toyo so much, but he was equally scared of  losing him. Allen
couldn’t handle being around him for long periods of  time, and neither could

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his parents. Toyo wouldn’t stand a chance.

He got out of bed and padded to the kitchen to make himself a cup of

tea. There was also an aspirin with his name on it. He had to waddle
everywhere because his ass was so sore.

As he heated the cup of water in the microwave, there was the sound of

movement from behind him. A hand dropped on his shoulder, and he went
very still. Toyo kissed him then, right above his earlobe.

“Don’t be scared, Farrell,” Toyo said. “It’s going to be okay this time. I

can feel it.”

“How do you know for sure?” Farrell asked him.
“I just do,” Toyo replied, holding him close. The whole kitchen smelled

of  Toyo. It was wonderful. “I want you to be the first person that I wake up
to and the last person that I see. When I was without you, I did a hell of  a lot
of  thinking. My life was so empty before you came along—when you got
here, I felt so much more. Yes, anger was a part of  the equation for a while,
but it was still incredible.”

“Like coming alive?” Farrell asked him tenably.
“Yes, exactly,” Toyo said, then kissed him deeply. “This time, give me a

chance at coming alive with you.”

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Epilogue

Eight months later
“Freckles, did you get the mail?”
They were both standing in their kitchen in Toyo’s—well, now his as

well—condo. He had their mail in one hand and his briefcase in the other.
He laid the mail on the counter and leafed through it. After that, he looked
up and saw a medium-size television with two figures in front of it. They
were both playing a fighting video game.

One of the people, Toyo, had asked about the mail. Ty was the other

figure. He already looked bigger than the last time Farrell had seen him.
When Ty walked off the plane, the difference had been enough to make
Farrell depressed.

“I’m going to win!” Ty cried, steering his overly muscular character

toward Toyo’s big-breasted woman. “Just watch this.”

“I don’t think so,” Toyo replied, smashing Ty’s character to the ground

with one enormous jump.

Toyo’s character pummeled Ty’s to death repeatedly with her fists. Farrell

chuckled as Ty’s wails of  despair filled the air. Toyo was always too
competitive at those games, and he wouldn’t let anybody win if  he could help
it, even if  his competition was a kid.

Finally, Ty hopped off the couch and tossed his paddle on the cushions,

rushing over to give Farrell a hug. Farrell grinned and then straightened up,
sorting through their mail some more. Ty was talking about something that
had happened that day with Toyo—something silly, like usual. Farrell never
would have thought that the two of them had so much in common.

After Farrell had lost his lease on the apartment, he had moved into

Toyo’s place after a lot of  prompting. He hadn’t wanted to “rock the boat” by
going too fast, but Toyo had decided to make up for his bad behavior by
being an exemplary boyfriend—the kind that Farrell had never had in the
past. He now knew what love was supposed to feel like. Toyo wasn’t a
stopover like Allen had been. The two of  them really loved each other. On
top of  that, Toyo adored kids, particularly Ty, and welcomed him into their

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life with open arms. Maybe it was because Toyo was so childlike himself.

Farrell never did end up working for Toyo again, even though Toyo had

wanted him to and had even promised him a raise. The only problem was,
the two of  them had been like dogs in heat the first few months of  their
relationship. They were hardly able to walk to the door of  their condo before
they were kissing and touching each other, so stopping that behavior at work
would have been insanely hard. In the end, Farrell had ended up working for
Candace still. When he had called her to apologize that he couldn’t move, she
had blamed it—rightfully—on Toyo and had ranted and raved for ten
minutes. At this point, she offered to make one of  her lazy workers move
and would employ Farrell in the person’s stead. He had agreed, grateful for
the employment, though feeling terribly guilty.

As Toyo, the expert chef and food connoisseur, joined them in the

kitchen, he started taking things out of the refrigerator to make dinner.
Farrell watched all of this, grinning. Toyo turned around with a carrot in his
hand and asked, “What? Is there something on my face?”

“No,” Farrell replied, laughing. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be out in

a little bit.”

Ty said, “Can I go to the park until dinner is ready?”
“Sure.”
Farrell padded to the shower and stripped off all of his clothes. He was

just about to step into the hot water when a hand eased its way through the
door and wiggled its fingers. Farrell laughed, turning toward the bathroom
door.

“You could just come in, you know,” Farrell said.
Toyo examined the shower. “Is there room for one more in there?”
“Always.”

The End

TuÉâà à{x Tâà{ÉÜ

Penelope Rivers is an erotic novelist of M/M romance novels and short

stories. A hopeless dreamer, she spends her day thinking about all things
fantasy, romantic and not. It is her view that when you start choking on the
occasionally dry bread of life, you need something sinfully delicious to chase
it down with. Currently, she lives in Utah with an abnormal amount of pets.