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Michael Holmes
Reviewing the Situation Pt 1
Mon Aug 28, 2006 00:32
71.33.60.170

How about our place… If you want?

…stay over but I can't… I can't commit like…

Hugh eased his head back around the corner, grateful his son and his son’s … friend hadn’t noticed his attempts at eavesdropping. But the way Devon’s face had lit up like a Christmas tree at the mere physical presence of Michael had the old tart wondering. For two months, give or take, the two had become joined at the bottle, or so it seemed to everyone.

Resting against the wall, he took several deep breates and stared into space for a few minutes. How had the two of them grown apart so easily? The man trading saliva with his drinking buddy was verifiably a stranger, but the naked emotion choking his voice was honest.

Straightening up, he sauntered back down the hallway to find his own lover, uncertain in which direction to proceed. Pulling Ben aside, Hugh conveyed what he’d seen and the hesitancy to act. As always, his military-minded Prince Charming produced an extremely simple plan. Turning right around, the taller man began speaking in a slightly louder-than-normal tone, nothing to give them away as the couple strolled around the corner and happened on a couple of hapless drunks admiring bits of pieces of recently made backdrops.

“There you are, Michael.” Ben beamed at the vaguely tussled younger man. “I’m taking your father home, did you want a ride?”

Neither of the middle-aged men were overly surprised when Hugh’s exceptional son mumbled something about a pub crawl and, “Don’t wait up for me, Dad … I’ll call you in the morning.”

After Devon and Michael had made a hasty exit, Hugh finally spoke up.

“I wonder when they’ll tell us…”




Conrad eased himself out of the theatre, ignoring the fading Sunday sun. Fury raged inside of him like a grizzly bear, though he was but half the size of that magnificent beast. Passing a hot dog vendor, he tossed down one of Michael’s newly created ten dollar bills, a piece of paper not yet intended for release, and bought himself one of the vile meals that every New Yorker seemed to swear by.

The actor was a fag.

It took him several hours to calm down, assuaging his temper on a homeless woman until the coppery scent of blood eased the red haze enough for the criminal to stare down at the corpse. But hey, it was Central Park and no one would raise an alarm about a homeless whore. Washing the blood from his hands at the first water fountain he came to, Conrad let his mind roam freely until a plan occurred to him.

Take away the lover and the father, and Michael would come crawling back to him – without his precious reputation.

Pierson the elder was also a fruit and Conrad knew his address already. There was more information to be netted, therefore he needed an assistant.

“Simon, we have to talk. Something has come up….” Conrad spoke quietly, urgently, into his cell phone, melding into the steady river of humanity.




Michael could barely keep his eyes open, let alone raise his head. Something profound had unfolded the evening before. Instead of coming home (despite his panic, Devon’s place already felt more comfortable to him than Hugh’s flat) and immediately getting drunk, they’d raided a Popeye’s Chicken for foodstuff and spent most of the evening exploring each other’s bodies in a sober light.

Neither had bridged the yawning chasm of sex yet, not with each other, but it had come extremely close. Devon had brought him to orgasm with capable hands, his lower brain twitching tiredly with interest until the actor finally submitted to his friend’s mouth and tongue with some small measure of grace. Twice last night, and then this morning, though he’d gotten up to use the bathroom and retrieved his boxers out of self preservation.

“Oh, alright.”

Rolling out of bed, he waited patiently while Devon claimed the shower first, then climbed in himself with what was left of the hot water to wash away the evidence of orgasm. And he liked smelling clean. While Devon took up the challenge of coffee, Michael changed the sheet for a new set and tidied up everything else, knowing it would drive the agent nuts.

Grand. Everything was set for the Inquisition he would endure for Devon’s sake. Somehow it fit, though, that the two people who would hear their confession were his father, and his father’s lover.

Michael had filched a horrific Hawaiian shirt from Devon’s closet to wear over his own tee shirt, something visual to hang onto during this ordeal. The man’s subsequent laughter had moved through him like water.

Was a Holmes descendant worth this? The answer was yes. Oh, yes.

People staring didn’t bother him, Michael’s frosty smile was enough to avert a good portion of the attention – from himself, anyway. Devon was physically outstanding and would draw admiring glances wherever he went. But he sleeps with me, tramps, Michael thought gleefully, just before catching sight of his father.

“Michael, that is the most … colorful shirt you’ve ever sported.” Hugh rose halfway out of his chair and gestured them over to the sunny side of the walkway. “Devon, the run-way model look suits you,” he continued in deference to the slacks and polo shirt currently worn. Michael had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop a giggle fit from erupting.

A waitress appeared on cue, taking orders of ice tea from all four men, along with requests for two chicken salads. Hell, he was about to skip out of the proverbial closet to his father, might as well enjoy a healthy meal for once.

“Thanks for meeting us—me.”

Devon kicked him gently under the table, apparently his way of showing support, however tweaked it might be. Owch.

“I mean ..us.” There was a small bit of red that had nothing to do with stage make coloring his ears, “We …ahm that is, Devon and myself are…” Christ, how the hell was he going to do this?

“We’re sleeping in the same bed,” interrupted Mister Mouth. A vacationing family tittered at the next table over, though the giggles faded away as Michael favored the lot of them with a glare. He was beginning to get a little irritated and the hapless tourists would be a ripe set of victims for his acidic tongue.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Hugh finally spoke, his own tone rife with amusement. “We were getting worried that you were out drinking and driving at all hours of the night.” He turned to Ben, who was trying to hide a grin behind his mustache. “Wouldn’t you rather have them arrested for sodomy rather than vehicular homicide?”

Gape.

Michael couldn’t help himself. The initial reaction was so unexpected that he was temporarily at a loss for words, which was just as well. His phone rang from the Hawaiian pocket.

“Pierson.”

You were going to call me this morning, yes?

Conrad. It figured. Michael settled back in his chair, idling eying the tourists again.

“I’m in the middle of something right now. We’ll discuss things in a few hours.” After this brunch, he’d get Devon to drop him off at the theatre and then he could take a cab down to the warehouse. “Meet you around, say, thee o’clock?”

Brother, that just doesn’t fit my schedule.

“It’ll have to, I’m busy.” Calm as always, but he was beginning to get impatient. Conrad had never questioned him like this before. What was the deal?

You’ll learn to live with the disappointment, Michael. I must say, that crimson color does suit your lover.

This time, you couldn’t miss the menace in his voice.

“What?” Michael started to rise, knocking into the waitress just arriving with their drinks. One tea sailed merrily off of the platter and deposited some liquid onto the left knee of Devon’s pants.

Sit back down, Michael. No use getting excited about it – not yet. Things have changed between us, my friend, in light of your new sleeping arrangements.

“I’m unimpressed.” It was a surety that Conrad could see them from wherever he was, which left out the first few floors of the buildings around them. Higher up, somewhere, mostly likely with military binoculars.

I haven’t begun to try.

Michael barely paid attention when Devon excused himself and headed into the bistro to clean himself off in the men’s room; he was too busy searching for the crow’s nest without physically turning his head.

So, my friend, here is the new deal. You keep your mouth shut and accept a position in my new organization, or I will act on your betrayal with the federal agent.

“Conrad, I will only warn you once – this is not a good idea. Hang up, go have a beer and I will talk to you later today.”

Enough! I give the orders around here. It was me who sat in that cell for three years. Me who thought up the plan and collected the equipment. It is my turn. Mine!

Seconds later, Hugh grabbed his right arm as a glass exploded on the table just behind them, blood slowly beginning to seep from between his fingers.

“Ben, get him inside. Now.”

Outwardly, Michael looked the same, but there was a cold quality to his voice never unearthed around father or step-father. He turned away from said father, trusting the other man to get Hugh out of the line of fire.

“That was a miscalculation on your part, Conrad.”

There was no anger apparent, just a softly uttered statement that raised the hairs on the nape of Hugh’s neck as he was helped out of his chair and under the shade of brightly colored patio umbrellas. A second bullet sped out of nowhere, striking the ground not a foot from where Michael now stood.

Was it? I hold the power of your family’s safety, brother. I know where your father lives … and that he prefers the left side of the bed.

White-hot fury swept through the slender man’s frame, threatening to blind him to anything but the urge to kill; but Michael was not a callow youth. His personality had been forged in the darkest corners of England’s underground, and this show of treachery would not break him. Not fukking hardly.

“You and I will speak soon. I promise you that.”

I look forward to it, my friend. And we are friends, Michael. I even told Simon to treat your lover gently. Like a woman.

The line went dead as Michael tried to process the last statement. Still outwardly calm, he stepped out of sight under the umbrellas, moving to where Hugh was settled at an empty table while Ben and a waitress were busily tending to a grazing wound.

  • Surprising at MarketHolmes at Large, Sun Aug 27 18:35
    Will I Lose My Dignity Will Someone Care Will I Wake Tomorrow From This Nightmare… Devon had to admit it, while being seated in the center section with a fantastic view of the stage, that Michael... more
    • Reviewing the Situation Pt 1 — Michael Holmes, Mon Aug 28 00:32
      • Reviewing the Situation Pt 2Michael Pierson, Mon Aug 28 00:33
        Grazing. Wound. Conrad had actually shot his father. It didn’t matter that the bullet had only sped past without leaving any lasting damage, it wouldn’t have … Michael blinked, forcing himself to... more
        • AddendumsDevon Holmes, Tue Aug 29 01:00
          He could do this. No hyperventilating, don’t trip over the curb, and resist the urge to smack Michael on the ass when he walks in front of you like that. Hell, he wasn’t even really staring at the... more
          • EnlighteningCaleb Holmes, Tue Aug 29 13:30
            “The only prints they’re going to lift off of that stuff are mine and those tourists,” Caleb grumbled, staring down at the forged cheques that he had managed to buy off of a few southerners the... more
            • ParadoxHugh / Michael, Tue Aug 29 15:23
              “He needs a lawyer.” Hugh had entered the residence some minutes behind his furious companion, quiet demeanor a stark contrast to the tall, currently raging man. Gently easing their note away from a... more
              • NegotiationsHolmes at Large, part deux, Wed Aug 30 21:20
                “He needs a lawyer.” Caleb frowned at Hugh’s words, and especially the ensuing explanation. It was most assuredly nothing he would have ever expected to hear coming from the life-long actor. Come on, ... more
                • Plan B from Outer SpaceConrad / Michael, Sun Sep 10 00:31
                  Two weeks. If the Universe was a friendly place, fourteen days would have passed by uneventfully, followed by an arraignment, a trial and a very long incarceration for Devon's almost-lover. However,... more
                  • RamificationsDevon & Caleb Holmes, Mon Sep 11 00:04
                    “That’s a bad habit, you know,” Caleb chided. But he held a lit match forward, anyhow. Devon had slept for absolute shit the night before, with everything going on. He couldn’t believe it, he had... more
                    • The Whites of Their EyesSome Cast Members, Mon Sep 11 17:26
                      The Pussy-In-Boots club was located just south of the Newark airport on the Jersey turnpike, not so close to the high traffic area than the cops would become interested, but still within reaching... more
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