The Tent Boys

Blaze grew up well in the suburbs of Washington DC. Blaze was born Ignatius Lucien Archambault. By the time he was ten Blaze realized that he hated his name. When he learned that Ignatius meant ‘fiery one’, he chose Blaze as a nickname and demanded everyone call him that. He absolutely hated to be called Iggy - something his mother insisted on calling him. 

If all had gone well, Blaze had the best chance of the Tent Boys to live a charmed life. His father was a diplomat from France who had a passionate interest in the Roman Empire – which is where Blaze got his first name. His mother was a former fashion model, then a socialite who hosted parties and shopped and did other meaningless things. They were quite wealthy. He went to an all-boys boarding school in Northern Virginia. He basically was your typical withdrawn boy who could be mildly aggressive at times. Blaze had a strong personality, but chose to only exert it occasionally. He had a more sensitive, sweet side to him, but it was almost never on display. Otherwise, he was just reserved and kept to himself. He had a few friends, including one somewhat special one. He ultimately preferred to be alone.

Blaze’s striking good looks come from his beautiful parents. He was quite handsome with medium brown, thick, mildly wavy hair that he kept somewhat short, and green eyes. He was about 5’6” tall and nicely built and toned. His looks also drew everyone to him, boys, girls, adults; everyone desired to be around him even if he didn’t want to be around them. He learned early how to use his looks as currency to get what he needed or wanted. Blaze became very independent since his parents were pretty much absent all the time. He basically took care of himself. His mother, while socially active, also had a bit of an addiction problem. Well, a lot of an addiction problem - she was constantly drunk or cracked out, or both. It became more and more of an issue as Blaze grew up. By the time he was eleven, his father left and went back to France, basically relieving himself of his duties as a husband or father. He told Blaze as he left that he never really wanted a child anyway.

In school, despite his sullenness, Blaze was popular. His few moderately close friends all had better lives than him, at least as far as he could tell. He knew he was gay when he was very young, maybe around ten, he learned of his bisexuality not long after. He had an active libido at a very young age. He tried as best as someone his age could to find what he needed. He found that some of the older boys at his school were gay, or at least horny. He also found that the girls at their peer school were always looking for a little action. His good looks, once again, came in handy in helping him satisfy his sexual appetite.

This continual chasing of sex landed him with a cute young boy named Claes. They met when Blaze was twelve and Claes was sixteen. Claes was an artist and wanted to be one professionally. He was from Sweden and was living here with his family who owned a multi-national business that was expanding into the states. Claes was thin with a slightly dark complexion, around 5’9” with very dark wavy almost jet black hair. He had piercing amber eyes, a rare color that made Claes seem exotic. His features were very unusual for a boy from Sweden, so much so that Claes always would joke that he was adopted. Blaze was completely infatuated with this boy. Likewise, Claes was very sweet on Blaze. 

Blaze and Claes had cute, romantic little get-togethers, staring into each other’s eyes and holding hands, kissing and cuddling with one another. It also went well beyond that. Claes was amazed at how mature Blaze was for such a young boy. When Blaze was with Claes, he gave himself fully to him. Unlike the other boys and girls that he just went through the motions with, he felt emotion, passion, a beautiful energy with Claes. He tended to dominate Claes, not like a brutal master, but like a loving Sir. He would use his strength to move his boy around, to hold him down or to lift him up. He didn’t bark out orders and demands, he guided Claes with firm direction. Blaze and Claes were equals as humans, but Blaze was incontrol, even if it was a somewhat passive control. They would find ways to be together at school in hallways, restrooms, and closets. Claes couldn’t get enough of his boy. He loved the feeling of this boy four years his junior mildly dominating him. 

Claes was the only person who Blaze let call him by his real name. Not Ignatius, they both hated that, but Lucien. Claes loved to call him Lucien. It was music to Blaze’s ears.

Blaze was so attached to Claes that he pretty much gave up chasing other boys and girls. He felt like he could go for the rest of his school years, even his life, with Claes and never need anyone else. It felt so good to be with Claes, it was like no other feeling he’d ever had. He thought he might be in love. Being with Claes also gave Blaze a way to avoid the turmoil at home. Blaze was happy, very happy.

Life at home was a disaster. Blaze’s mother was falling apart. Once his father left, his mother hit the drugs and alcohol even harder. She was loud and abusive. Her socialite friends abandoned her. She let the house go. She was a mess. At first, Blaze tried to help her, but it didn’t take long for him to figure out that was futile. He spent much of his time away from home. If not at Claes’ house, he stayed with friends and even, on occasion, slept in the school or in the park. He hated to be around her. 

The bliss with Claes lasted about a year. Right before Blaze’s 14th birthday, everything came undone for him and his life changed drastically. Claes’ parents informed him that they were returning to Sweden. The family business had done all they could in the states and it was time to go back. 

“I am devastated. I have to go. I have to leave.” a sad Claes told Blaze.

“What? Where are you going? Leaving ME? Or just leaving?” Blaze said as tears welled in his eyes.

“No, no, I love you, Lucien. I would never leave YOU. It’s my family. We’re going back to Sweden. I don’t have a choice.”

“NO! You can’t leave! You’re the only thing I have! You’re the boy I love! You’re everything to me!”

“I’m so sorry Lucien. You are forever in my heart. I will never forget you. We will find each other again someday.”

The boys hugged and cried and talked through this heartbreak. There really wasn’t anything either of them could do. It's not like Sweden was around the corner and there was no way a minor was being allowed to stay alone in the states. Maybe if Blaze’s home life was more normal, a case could be made for Claes to at least stay through school. Claes even tried to make the case to his parents that Blaze should come with them, but they weren’t having any of it. They thought Blaze would be a distraction to Claes’ artistic promise and insisted he could come visit sometime. Both boys were crushed, but Blaze was especially distraught. 

Blaze and Claes spent as much time as they could together over the next week. They were inseparable. Blaze figured he should be with his love as much as he could since he’d never see him again. It all came to an end. The boys finally said good-bye for the last time.

Blaze spent the next two weeks avoiding everyone. He alienated his few friends due to his constant anger at everything. His mood never really moved much between sad and angry. He really had nowhere to go that he could just be alone, so he wandered around the campus of the school, went to the park, and hid in his house when his mother wasn’t around. He was miserable – and it was only going to get worse.

He showed up at home one afternoon to find workers there, removing everything from the house. Furniture, electronics, clothing – pretty much everything was being taken and loaded onto trucks. His mother was sitting on the floor in the living room with a bottle of gin in one hand and a cigarette in the other. There was already an empty bottle next to her. The workers just went around her rather than interact with her.

“What the fuck is going on here?” an angry Blaze barked at his mother.

“I didn’t pay the bills. We lost the house and our stuff. Your father won’t help. We’re done. I’m sorry.”

“AAARGGGHH!! Fuck you! You addict trash! You always had money to get fucked up! Fuck you for ruining MY life. MY FUCKING LIFE! Fuck your life, why fuck up mine?!”

“I’m sorry. We’ll figure something out. My friend will let us stay at…”

“Seriously?” Blaze cut her off. “You’re ‘friend’? You mean your fucking dealer. Or is he going to be your pimp now? You want to take your son to a drug den. You are fucked up. I’M JUST A BOY! Fuck you. Fuck you so much.” Blaze screamed with tears streaming down his face.

Blaze stormed up the stairs to his room. His furniture and anything valuable was gone. Everything else was tossed into a pile in the corner of the room, apparently waiting to be disposed of. All of his possessions were taken or just tossed away carelessly. It didn’t matter. He managed to pull together some clothes into a laundry bag. He looked around and began to cry. Most of the stuff was from this life that he wanted to get away from anyway. He dug through the pile in the corner and found the one thing he wanted to keep. It was a tiny plastic moose wearing a blue and yellow sweater – the colors of Sweden on the national animal of Sweden. Claes had given it to him. It was a silly, worthless thing, but at this point it was the most valuable thing he had. It meant the world to him. He stormed downstairs and stopped by the entryway to the living room.

“Goodbye Mom. I hope we never see each other again. I hate you.” Blaze was very calm as he said those words. He wanted her to know he meant them.

His mother just looked over at him indifferently and took a drink from her bottle.

Blaze pulled out his phone and called his father. He begged him to rescue him. His father would do nothing. He told him to go back to his mother. “She wanted a child,” he coldly said to him. “I hope you die. Slowly and painfully. How could you do this to a boy? Va te faire foutre!” Blaze basically told his father to fuck off. He said it in french since that seemed to be the only language he would listen to seriously.

Blaze took off, for where, he didn’t know. He just had to get away from there. He thought of contacting one of his other friends, but really wasn’t in the mood for pity, plus he’d pushed most of them away already. He was angry, fiercely angry. He wandered until after dark and eventually found himself, whether consciously or not, in front of Claes’ house. 

It was dark. No one had been there since the family left weeks ago. Blaze walked closer to the house. No one was around; no one seemed to notice that he was there. He went to the back yard and looked into the windows. All of the furniture was still there. He thought about breaking in but feared that an alarm would go off. He decided to risk it anyway since being arrested wasn’t going to be the worst thing that has happened to him in the last few weeks. He then remembered a key that Claes kept outside somewhere. He looked around and sure enough it was still there. He unlocked the door. Silence. 

The house had either a silent alarm or the alarm had been turned off. It really didn’t matter to Blaze. He was shocked to see the house still so intact. They must not have bothered to take anything with them other than some personal items. He went up to Claes’ room. His bed was still there and was still made up. Blaze dropped his bag on the floor and jumped into Claes’ bed – a bed that he and Claes had been in together many times. The pillow and the sheets smelled like Claes. Blaze just curled up in them, clutched the little moose, and cried himself to sleep. He didn’t leave that bed for days - including his 14th birthday.

***

A few years alone and on the streets made Blaze even more sullen and dark than he was when things were supposedly better. He had some rough experiences, but he learned his way around the streets of DC being a hustler and managed to find some other homeless folks that he could connect with. He made a home for himself in a tent in a homeless encampment in a park not too far from the Capitol. He was surviving. He kept himself in good shape so he could keep up his business. He had become so indifferent to intimacy of any kind. He was almost mechanical as he did anything with anyone . He was a handsome, virile boy who was in demand. He did what he had to to get by. 

Blaze survived his life on the streets and even became pretty street smart. It wasn’t the perfect life, but he was making it work. Despite his depression and anger with all that had happened to him, he sort of felt content with this life. He felt like he had more control than he ever did before. He didn’t have to rely on anyone but himself. He was finally as he often wished he could be. Alone.

His heart still hurt over Claes. He found him on the internet while surfing on a computer at a coffee shop one day. Claes was busy making art in Sweden and making a name for himself. He was a rising star. People thought of him as some sort of art prodigy. Blaze figured Claes had completely forgotten him by now. 

There were a few pictures of Claes that Blaze printed out and carried with him. He kept the plastic moose in his tent, under his pillow. His boyfriend with the mysterious dark features had grown even more handsome. It was so clear that Claes probably wasn’t Swedish. Blaze just hoped he’d see him again someday. It’s the only time Blaze felt any emotion, and the only time he ever cried anymore.

***

It was a typical night for young Blaze. By this point in his life - it had been more than a year since he told his parents to fuck off - he was well versed with the streets. As usual, he was cruising looking for a trick. He knew all of the good places to find men – or sometimes women – looking for a hookup. On this night he would find himself in one of the worst situations he’d ever been in, one that will influence him as long as he’s on the streets.

He found his trick outside the adult shop that out of town folks frequent – especially out of town folks looking for something more than adult toys. It wasn’t in the nicest part of the city, but it was a quicker hook up than the nicer spots. The guy he found wasn’t particularly attractive, but he was dressed well and seemed to have money. He was maybe in his 40’s, balding with grey hair. He was kind of scrawny looking, about 6 feet tall. Blaze made eye contact and it was returned. A few other casual maneuvers and the two were making plans.

“I’m Blaze, what’s your name?”

“That’s not really very important. We’re not here to become friends,” the man said dryly.

Blaze got that feeling in his gut, the one that usually guides him away from certain situations. However, this time he was a bit desperate. He hadn’t eaten a decent meal in about a week. He also needed a new pair of shoes since the good ones he had were stolen from him and he was wearing ones that were worn out and uncomfortable. Tricks had been slow for some reason. He kind of needed this gig. 

“Fine. I can follow you to your hotel.”

“I’m guessing from your looks that you command a premium.”

“I try to. Don’t worry man, we’ll work it out.”

“Let’s go.”

Blaze followed the man to his hotel nearby. It wasn’t one of the nicer hotels. It was older and a little dreary. It felt a bit uncomfortable for Blaze. His gut was reminding him again that he probably should go. Despite that sinking feeling, he followed the man into the hotel and they continued up the stairs. Once inside, Blaze saw how creepy this place really was. There was a weird smell. The walls were grey from years of neglect. As he walked to the man’s room, he felt a definite unease.

“Right here,” the man said as he put the key into the door of room six. Someone in another room was harshly yelling at whoever they were with. It was disconcerting. The man showed Blaze in, “sorry, this isn’t one of my usual hotels. My assistant messed up and booked me here and it was too late to get a better room somewhere else.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“I’m glad I ran into you. I set up a Grindr hook up earlier and the guy never showed.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s good,” a nervous Blaze replied, trying to sound like everything was ok. “So, um, I usually get $100 for an hour or so.”

“Sure thing firefly, just relax. I’ll take care of you.”

Blaze hated that this asshole made fun of his name. He sat on the edge of the bed. The man sat next to him. The man made some small talk asking Blaze about being a hustler, did he have family, where was he from, why was he on the streets, is he gay, how long did he know? Blaze was not comfortable with this line of questioning and just wanted to get this over with. He tried to lean in to kiss him to distract him from the game of 20 questions. The man pushed back and said he wasn’t in a hurry. They continued to talk some more. The man got up and said he needed to go to the bathroom. Blaze thought about leaving. When the man closed the bathroom door, Blaze stood up and started towards the door. There was a loud creak from the floor. That’s when the man burst out of the bathroom with a baseball bat in his hands. The bat had a black cross painted on it.

“You sit the fuck down faggot!” the man exclaimed as he went for the door to block Blaze from leaving. “You fucking faggots are always in such a hurry to leave.”

“I-I-I won’t go anywhere. Please don’t hurt me,” Blaze begged, cowering a bit with his hands up in front of his face. “OH FUCK!”

The man took a swing with the bat. Fortunately Blaze was quick enough to dodge the hit and the bat slammed into the dresser. The man came after him again. This time he caught Blaze in the shoulder and across his back with a direct hit. Blaze hit the ground in severe pain. He felt like the bat hit his spine. The man raised the bat over his head and took another swing at him. Blaze rolled away and missed what could have been a fatal blow.

“STAY PUT FAGGOT SO I CAN BEAT THE FEAR OF GOD INTO YOU!” the man screamed. “I will save you from Satan’s grip and send you to God to REPENT!!” he screamed even louder as he took another swing. 

Oh, fuck me, a crazy religious fanatic. What the ever loving fuck? Blaze thought to himself as he lunged at the man figuring it was his only way to get out of there. He brought the man to the ground and the bat flew out of his hands. The man grabbed Blaze by the hair and head butted him twice. Blood was now flowing from Blaze’s head as the man wrestled himself on top of him. The man punched him repeatedly. Blaze tried his hardest to fight the man off. The multiple punches made Blaze feel dizzy. The man had a look of rage on his face.

“I hate faggots!! I WILL KILL YOU ALL!! GOD WILL BANISH YOU TO HELL!!”

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. The man was distracted and turned around. Good thing for Blaze, as he was beginning to get lightheaded. He was with it enough to let out a scream. As Blaze tried to push the man off him and get back up, the door burst open. This guy just came bursting into the room and grabbed the man. He pulled the man off of Blaze and threw him to the ground. The man landed near his bat, so he grabbed it and took a swing at the guy, hitting him in his leg. Apparently he didn’t hit him hard enough to take him down. The guy grabbed the bat and yanked it out of the man’s hands. He took a swing with the bat and hit the man in his ribs. He swung and hit him again. The man cried out for Jesus to save him. “Jesus isn’t going to do afucking thing for you asshole!” The guy barked back as he swung at the man’s ribs again. The guy took one more swing and hit the man’s shoulder. The man lay there lifeless and moaning. He threw the bat to the ground and looked over at Blaze cowering in the corner. “Pray on that, fucker.”

“Get up NOW! We’re getting the fuck out of here before the police show up!” the guy yelled to Blaze.

As they left the room, there were people gathering in the hallway. No one seemed very interested in getting involved.

“This way!” the guy yelled as they ran down the hall toward a fire exit. They pushed through the door. No alarm went off, as if there would be proper alarms in s ump like this. They ran down the stairs, out another door and into an alley. They took off down some street and eventually found a spot to stop and catch their breath. Sirens wailed in the background.

“Holy fucking shit!” Blaze cried out, “where the fuck did you come from? You saved my life. That crazy fucker was going to kill me! Thanks dude!! I owe you big time.”

“Oh yeah kid, you do,” the guy snarled, “lucky for you I decided to follow through on that Grindr hook up. You’d be dead in about one more minute.”

“Oh fuck. I knew that felt like a bad idea. Thanks again man. I’m Blaze.”

“Blaze? What the fuck kind of name is that? Whatever. I’m Garrett. Come on, you’re coming home with me. I’m going to clean you up and we’re going to salvage this night with a little fun after all. You owe me, remember?”

Blaze didn’t feel like he was in the position to argue with Garrett. Plus, he was hot. Really hot. Just about 5’10”, medium brown close cut hair, green eyes behind round plastic rimmed glasses. He seemed pretty well built and was obviously strong. Blaze felt a little better about following this guy home.

“Yeah, right. I sure do owe you,” Blaze said with a flirty smile.

***

Garrett was Blaze’s one real friend for a long time, perhaps a little more. He enjoyed hanging out with Garrett and they had a lot of fun together. Garrett was much older than Blaze at 22 and was definitely rough around the edges. Though, he was actually kind to Blaze. They developed a sort of brotherly relationship, it was also physical and romantic. Unlike Blaze’s usual role, he found himself submitting to Garrett. Garrett called him boy, and sometimes his bitch boy. Garrett even had Blaz doing chores for him, in return for getting to do his own laundry and shower regularly - though Garrett didn’t want Blaze to shower too regularly. None of these details mattered to, Blaze, he was having real feelings for someone once again. 

They partied together, usually on ecstasy or GHB. Garrett was a drug dealer, mainly in the gay clubs. The irony of this situation was not lost on Blaze considering what he ran away from. Garrett was mostly a loner and liked to keep his options open. He never actually invited Blaze to live with him, but he did let him stay with him frequently. Blaze kept his tent and often stayed there. Of course, like most people in Blaze’s life, and like anyone he’d become close to, Garrett would end up leaving too, also not by his own choice. He was arrested and sent off to jail indefinitely. All Blaze had to remember his time with Garrett was a glow stick necklace that Garrett gave him the first night they partied together. Blaze kept that under his pillow too. 

Blaze was back to being by himself, just as he turned 17.

***

On a night was no different than any other night, Blaze went over to the hustler bar earlier than usual, about 7 pm. He thought he might catch a trick early and then treat himself to a hotel room. He would get to do that once in a while, although rarely. He liked staying in a hotel, sleeping in a bed, taking a long shower or a bath, and ordering room service. He used his charms to befriend a front desk attendant at one of the decent hotels in town so he could get a room with cash and no ID. 

As he sat there at the bar, drinking a beer, a thick, handsome, military looking young man sat next to him. He figured this guy was another hustler given how young he was. Most guys that were shopping were much older. (This bar had no regard for being very legal. It was owned by cops and they didn’t seem to care who was there and what they were doing as long as they made money.)

“Hey there stud! I’m Kevin,” this guy didn’t seem like he’d be that chipper, but there he was. Mr. Eager Beaver. The guy looked at Blaze and offered his hand.

“Hey dude. I’m Blaze. Are you working or shopping?”

“I guess shopping is the answer. Do I look like I should be working?”

“You’re too young and too good looking to be shopping. You can get whatever you want for free”

“Well, not quite. I am shopping. Trust me. If you like, I can explain it all over drinks in my hotel room. I have $200 for you, if that’s enough.”

“I usually ask for more, but you seem nice, so I’ll give you a discount.”

Blaze was lying. Two hundred dollars was about twice what he usually got from the guys here. Sometimes even less. Blaze happily jumped off of his stool and followed Kevin out of the bar.

Kevin was staying at The Siam, one of those trendy, funky boutique hotels popping up all over DC. This one had an Asian theme. He had a decent sized, very nice room. There were two queen beds, a couple of comfy chairs, a desk, a dresser and a bar-like area. Once in the room, Kevin reached into the mini-bar and offered Blaze anything he liked. Blaze asked for one of the beers. Kevin handed Blaze the beer, it was something Asian that he’d never heard of. He motioned for Blaze to sit on the bed near the window. Before he sat down, Blaze asked to see his payment and asked Kevin to place it on the dresser. He was smart enough at this point to know he had to ask for payment up front and that it had to be in view at all times – and easy to grab if he had to run out.

“I see you’re a professional,” Kevin commented, “that’s good.”

“Yeah, sorry dude, no offense, but as you can imagine, I’ve been burned.”

“No worries. I’m not so bad. I’m not like the old weirdos. Guys do think I’m kind of weird though, I just like a certain kind of guy and have a certain type of interest. DC seems to be the only place I can find boys like you. Especially ones that are as sexy.”

“I get it. So, what do you want to do? I’m not like the other hustlers either. I’m in no hurry.”

Kevin was pleased to find out the kid wasn’t in a hurry. “Great, then we’re going to get along fine.”

Kevin sat on a chair opposite the bed Blaze was sitting on and looked over at him. He asked Blaze to run his hands over his torso. Kevin sighed contentedly as he watched Blaze sensually touch himself. Blaze being homeless, wasn’t exactly clean and fresh. It didn’t seem to bother Kevin for the moment. He seemed used to it. He offered up a shower. Blaze accepted and the two of them went into the bathroom. 

The bathroom was huge and the shower was a large stall shower with glass walls and no door. It was big enough for at least two people. Not knowing what to do next, Blaze removed his clothes and tossed them into a corner. Kevin just stared at the beautiful boy and his extremely thick cock. Blaze figured Kevin was probably a little submissive, so he walked over to start taking Kevin’s clothes off. Kevin pushed Baze back.

“No, I am not interested in that. Just keep doing what you’re doing. Go ahead and shower. I’ll be right here.”

Blaze thought this was a little odd, but if he could get away with a trick that didn’t want to have sex, that was a bonus. Blaze walked into the shower and turned the water on; Kevin sat on the floor across from the shower. Blaze got under the water and Kevin just sat there admiring him. 

“Go ahead, do as you normally would, just do it slowly and sensually. Please.”

Blaze wasn’t uncomfortable with this. He realized this is one of those guys that probably just wants to look at him, as if he were a live porn show. He hoped this is how it would remain for the night. He grabbed the shampoo and started to lather up his hair. He turned his back to Kevin and put his hands up over his head as he rinsed the lather from his hair. This position gave Kevin goosebumps; it was such a hot stance showing off Blaze’s muscles and body so well. Blaze kept up the show, Kevin just watched. He didn’t even touch himself or anything. He just sat there, fully clothed, legs stretched in front of him and crossed, his hands folded in his lap. He was just watching the show. Blaze proceeded to lather up a washcloth and wash himself all over, slowly and deliberately. Kevin enjoyed Blaze’s body with every move. Once Blaze was all clean, he quickly rinsed himself off and they stepped out of the shower. He carefully dried himself off and walked back into the room. Kevin followed.

This guy was handsome and young - two unusual things to find in the same trick. He was also nice and had a decent body. He looked like he’d been in the military or something. He was dressed very neatly in perfectly fitting clothes. His hair was close cropped with a thick patch down the middle. He had a gentle face, but a body that looked like he could destroy you. 

Kevin was quite pleased with everything about Blaze’s body. He was glad that Blaze didn’t question him, or wasn’t aggressive or dangerous, not that Kevin wouldn’t be able to deal with that. Kevin sat back in the chair, crossed his legs. He put his elbows on the arms of the chair and clasped his hands in front of his face, as if he were about to start a job interview. He asked Blaze to lie on the bed.

“Please, just rub your hands all over yourself.”

“Don’t you want to touch me? Don’t YOU want to rub your hands all over me?”

“No. I really enjoy just looking at you.”

“Do you want me to do anything specific? Do you want me to jerk off?”

“Please don’t. Just explore your body. Make it feel good. Enjoy your beautiful body.”

Blaze went along with what Kevin wanted. He rubbed his hands all over himself, as if he’d want to be touched by someone worshipping him. He was enjoying the attention and the fact that this was an actually pleasant experience instead of the usual quick and dirty scenes he was always in. Kevin just quietly watched Blaze, as if he were studying a sculpture at a museum. Once again, he didn’t touch himself. He didn’t really do anything but sit back and watch.  

“Could you roll over and lie on your stomach now, please?”

Kevin was very polite. The show went on for a while more. Once Kevin had enough, he offered Blaze another beer and he poured himself a scotch. Blaze sat up in bed while Kevin sat in the chair and they talked for a bit. Kevin shared that he was once a Marine. Blaze talked a little about how he became homeless.  

That’s when Kevin sprung a surprise on Blaze.

“I’d love to add another boy to the mix. Would that bother you?”

Thanks again for staying with the story. Now that we know more about Jack, Harrison and Blaze, we’ll get caught up with Lucas next.