He had one friend, for a while, his sophomore year of high school. A kid named Carter, who was a senior and gay as a jaybird, but deeper in the closet than a winter coat from five years ago. They took drama class together, and were both stage techs, so they formed a delicate relationship that involved minimum talking. Over the course of the semester, that warped into heated stares across the soundboard and unexpected brushes of denim against denim as they started to sit too close together. Then one day in the spring, Carter edged in a little closer than normal against Joel as they were putting up some power cords in the closet, and all it took was a slight turn of his head to the left, and Joel had his first kiss. It was ironic that Joel was out of the closet and Carter was not, but Joel ended up being the one pushing Carter farther in, with hands against his shoulders, furiously exploring his mouth with an eager tongue.
The semester went on in much the same way between them until one night, after a rehearsal of the spring performance wrapped up and the two of them found themselves alone in the auditorium. Carter had developed into an eager and aggressive partner, still in the closet though, and he strong-armed Joel into the men's dressing room, easily taking control and working Joel’s belt off with one hand, as he held his throat securely with the other. Joel had tilted his neck up toward the ceiling, in offering to, and in agreement with what Carter was about to do. Carter had been rough as he pulled down Joel’s pants and boxers, producing a shiny foil-wrapped condom and a pack of lube. He tore both open with his teeth, pressed Joel down with a palm against the small of his back and thrust himself inside. It was quick, rough and awkward. As the two of them lay in a heap, panting and sweaty afterward, Carter brushed Joel’s red hair out of his eyes, then kissed his cheekbones softly before getting up, putting his pants back on and walking out.
Two days went by and Joel didn’t hear a word from Carter. After another night-time rehearsal Joel found himself back in the men's dressing room, back underneath his fumbling lover. The experience went much the same for Joel this time, only longer in duration and he was left again with two more kisses to his cheekbones.
And so the year went on. Carter and Joel fumbled through exploring each other’s bodies, as teenagers do. Joel sucked his first dick, choking on the bitter taste of cum in the broom closet next door to their homeroom. Carter learned about rimming, thanks to Joel, and spattered the floor of the sound booth with his own cum more than once. Then, at the end of the school year, Carter was gone, without a goodbye or a forwarding address.
Everyone left him in the end. His parents couldn’t wait to get away, and after everything they’d done together, even Carter left without a word, most likely off to college somewhere better than California. Carter was the only person Joel had ever been with, and the whole experience had been so disappointing to him, that Joel developed a hard time trusting people. Joel hadn’t wanted anyone else to find him lacking the way his parents and Carter did.
After Joel had shaken himself out of his trip down memory lane, he reached for the door handle to get out of the car, but it was yanked away from him as the door flew open. Joel’s eyes widened in shock as he was faced by a man in all black with a hoodie and a ski mask over his face, complete with black crowbar raised up and ready to strike.
“Get out of the fucking car and give me your keys!” the man demanded.
Joel fumbled, scared out of his fucking mind, to try and get the keys out of the ignition to give to the guy, hoping his face wasn’t about to become better acquainted with the crowbar. He shakily reached a hand out as another rush of black came full speed from the back of Joel’s car, throwing the man into the door and sending the crowbar clattering to the ground. He watched the two men struggle with each other briefly. It was apparent that his Good Samaritan would easily win, as a solid and meaty fist connected over and over against his assailant’s cheek. Joel cowered into his car, horrified and trapped as the fight raged on in front of him. The larger man stood, offering a solid kick to the rib cage of the man bleeding on the ground before growling out, “Don’teverfucking think about touching him.”
The man on the ground did his best to crawl out into the street in an attempt to escape. Joel’s Good Samaritan offered one last kick to the attacker, who was nevertheless able to get his bearings and take off running toward the mass of people on the main street a few blocks away.
Joel shook as he stammered out a thank you to his mysterious savior. His vision was blurry and unfocused as a result of his overwhelming fear, and by the time his eyes cleared, the man who saved him was gone.
CHAPTER THREE
Joel Needs a Plumber, Immediately
Joel wasn’t sure how long he sat in his car, waiting for his heart rate to regulate. Should he call the police? What would they do, anyway? It wasn’t as if there was anyone to arrest or take to the hospital, although he imagined the carjacker might end up in the hospital on his own volition based on the beating he had taken.
The stranger!
Joel got out of his car and looked all around him, trying to see if he could locate the man who had come to his aid, but there was no one around. He slid back into the driver's seat and pulled out his phone to call Davis. His hands were so shaky, he dropped it a couple times before he could get a grip on it. Pressing the screen button, nothing happened. He pressed it again, and again nothing. “Fuck me, come on,” Joel exhaled, exasperated with his shit luck, and tossed the phone on the passenger seat. He wasn’t sure how late he was at this point, and Davis had probably given up on him and left already. Joel didn’t see the point in trekking the four blocks up to the restaurant just to have to turn around and go back to his car. For all he knew, the carjacker was still lurking around. He pulled the door of his car closed and stuck the key back in the ignition. Pulling out of the parking space, he headed home.
***
Back in his apartment, Joel locked the door behind him and tossed his keys across the kitchen counter. He went straight into the bathroom, took a leak, and flushed the toilet before making his way to the sink in his kitchen to pour himself a glass of water from the tap. As he pushed the faucet handle back to turn off the water, nothing happened. Well, something happened, in that the water did not stop even though the faucet was now in the off position. He moved it back and forth, but there was no change in the flow of water. “Come the fuck on!” Joel shouted at no one, watching the water drain down his sink. With no end in sight, his mind focused on the sound of running water, and he realized it was coming from more than one place. The distinct sound of the tap in the kitchen almost drowned out the deeper whooshing noise of a running toilet. He took off down the short hallway toward his bathroom and recognized he’d been correct in identifying the sound. The toilet was about half an inch away from overflowing. He jiggled the handle, and nothing happened, short of the water flowing over the toilet seat and wetting his shoes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Joel lifted his legs high, trying to escape the impending flood in his bathroom. He reached for his back pocket to pull out his phone tocall the landlord and a plumber but realized it wasn’t there.
Joel dug his hands into his scalp and grabbed his hair by the roots in an attempt to rip it from his fucking head. If he’d thought Davis had bad luck with the Tesla, this was a whole new level of shit luck right here. He watched the water begin to flow out of the bathroom and into the hallway, making the start of a river as it seeped down toward the bedroom. Joel skipped over ahead of it, running for his closet to grab a couple of pairs of pants and some shirts. He rifled through the hangers, trying to find his favorite t-shirt, but it wasn’t where he’d seen it last. He grumbled, taking another in its place, and waded back through the water that was quickly saturating his carpet. He stopped in the kitchen, making one last attempt to turn the sink off before grabbing his keys and escaping out the front door.
Once he was back in his car, he peeled off his soaking wet Converse and socks, tossing them on the floor in the back. He blindly groped for his phone on the seat beside him, and by some miracle of luck, it powered on. As he expected, though, he didn’t have any missed calls or texts from Davis. He scrolled down to his landlord, Phil, and called, leaving a message to let him know about the flood and impending water damage.
He dropped his head down against the steering wheel, dragging in a tense breath. Where the fuck was he going to go? He didn’t want to waste money on a hotel, the motels he could afford were places he didn’t want to stay anyway, and he wasn’t about to sleep in his car. It was just his luck that Athena was still in New York, and he wasn't close enough with Adonis to think about being that kind of imposition. Joel scrolled through his contacts, all six of them, before settling on one, taking a deep breath, and dialing.
“Grandma? It’s Joel. Can I come stay with you tonight?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Gabriel is Patient
Gabriel picked up the solid brass paperweight and threw it across the room. It bounced off his bookshelf and landed with a solid thud against the carpet.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He flexed his hand into a fist and released it, trying to stretch the muscles before his knuckles were overtaken with swelling. This wasn't the way he’d meant for the night to go. That stupid kid in his dollar store ski mask had to go and fuck up all of Gabriel's plans, forcing him to skip in his carefully crafted time-line.
The events of the evening had frightened Gabriel, an emotion he didn't have much experience with. Gabriel was always careful and concise with his dealings, regarding Joel and otherwise, and although he had been watching Joel from a distance, he wasn't prepared to bring them face to face just yet. But seeing that thug come after Joel had pushed him into action. Shaking from the adrenaline coursing through his veins, he’d attacked that thug before he could hurt Joel, and had escaped with nothing beyond bruised knuckles. As he’d hid behind a parked car down the street to catch his breath, Gabriel had fought against his instincts to go to Joel immediately. He could have lost him tonight, and if Gabriel needed to accelerate his timeline so he never had to face that threat again, then he would.
Upset by the shift in events, he paced across his office from one end to the other, never taking his eyes off the security monitor that hung in the corner. There was a black-and-white image on the screen, and it was clear enough that he could see the utter despondency in Joel's eyes as he searched for something in his closet. The Joel on screen grabbed some clothes and left the frame, so Gabriel pushed a button on the remote he held tightly in his hand, cycling through security feeds until he located Joel again, now in his kitchen. Gabriel chuckled in spite of himself. “Cute, but you're not going to have any luck with that, Little Red.” He watched Joel flip the handle on the sink a few times before giving up and leaving the apartment.
Gabriel cycled through some more security feeds until he reached one showing the street, with Joel's car front and center at the curb. He watched Joel fold his body into the car and have success with his cell phone. Gabriel pushed another button on the remote, activating the stereo system in his office.
