This work is not intended as an infringement upon the rights of those that own The Sentinel and is meant solely for non-profit entertainment purposes only.

Young love relationship. James is in high school.

This story is a sequel to: Work of Desire, Chapter 12

The sound of a soft whimper woke Simon and he lifted his head from where it lay resting on James' bed. He searched along the edge of the mattress for the boy's hand and squeezed it lightly as he whispered soothingly to him. "It's okay, Tiger. I'm here." James' hand grew restless in his grip and Simon softly kissed each knuckle. "I'm right here, James."

"Si?"

Simon shifted closer to the head of the bed so that he could cup the side of James' face with his uninjured hand. "Try and go back to sleep, Tiger."

"My chest hurts, Si." James turned his face into the comforting touch of Simon's hand. "Can they give me something for the pain?"

"The nurse just gave you some pain medication, James."

"Oh." James grimaced as he tried to move into a more comfortable position.

Simon slid his fingers over the teen's face and brushed several strands of hair away from his forehead. "It's been about thirty minutes since she gave the medicine. It should start kicking in any moment." Leaning away from the bed, Simon retrieved the small plastic drinking cup that sat on the bedside table. Before he could even offer the teen a sip of cool water, James sat straight up in bed and grabbed at him.

"Si! Don't leave me."

Startled, Simon dropped the cup. "I'm right here, James and I have no plans on leaving you."

James clutched his lover's bandaged hand to his chest. "Yeah, right. Like I believe that. Si, everyone leaves me. Eventually," he mumbled drowsily.

Simon felt his heart shatter with those softly spoken words. He leaned as close as possible to the teen and whispered in his ear. "I'm here as long as you want me, Tiger. And nobody, not even your dad, is going to make me go away."

+++++++

"Mr. Banks?"

Lifting his head, Simon turned in the direction of the softly spoken voice. "Yes?" A hand lightly touched his shoulder. "May I help you?"

"I hope you can."

Simon pushed his chair away from James' bed and stood up. "And you are?"

"Sally Wong. I work for Mr. William Ellison, his housekeeper actually. And at this moment, while he's overseas on business, I'm the person responsible for James and his brother."

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose as the hint of a headache made itself known, the pain starting behind his eyes. "How may I help you, Mrs. Wong?" Simon asked, not totally sure he wanted to know the answer. Had Stevie told his father about his and James' relationship and was this woman about to hand him his walking papers?

"Mind if I sit down? My feet are killing me."

Simon offered his chair, preferring to remain close to James in case the teenager woke up and needed him. Scratching the bandage tape that was beginning to irritate his skin, he waited until he heard Sally take a seat before asking, "I believe you hinted at needing my help?"

"I've spoken with the doctor and he assures me James will be able to go home tomorrow." Sally opened her purse and pulled out a white linen handkerchief, sighing as she wiped her face.

"And the problem is?" Simon searched for James' hand and held it tight. A frustrated sigh distracted him and he cautiously moved closer to where the housekeeper sat. "Is something wrong, Mrs. Wong?"

"I hate to ask you this, Mr. Banks but could James possibly stay with you after he's discharged?"

Totally taken back by the woman's request, Simon nearly missed what she said next. "... flew out this morning to join his father in London, leaving me behind to take care of James. Unfortunately, a family emergency has come up and I have to leave for Arizona as soon as possible." Sally gripped Simon's arm. "I know Mr. Ellison isn't happy about his son working for you but since James talks so highly of you and I really don't have anyone else I can ask to help me, will you please let James stay with you until his father returns?"

The grip on Simon's arm tightened and a note of desperation crept into the housekeeper's voice. "I feel awful about abandoning James but I really don't know what else to do. There's no family and James really doesn't have any close friends I could leave him with. I'm at my wits end, Mr. Banks. Please say you'll help me."

"You leave everything to me, Mrs. Wong. I'd be more than happy to look after James." Hearing the woman stand, Simon pulled out his wallet and gave her one of his business cards. "If you'll inform the doctor that you're turning his care over to me, I'll handle getting him discharged and make the arrangements for having him stay at my home. This is a phone number where you can reach me both day and night. Don't hesitate to call if you need to speak with James or myself." Simon was nearly smothered in a hug and he awkwardly patted Sally's shoulder.

"You have no idea how much I appreciate this, Mr. Banks. You're a life saver."

After being released, Simon took a step back and smiled as he listened to Sally whisper her goodbyes to the sleeping teenager. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Mrs. Wong? Arrange for an airplane ticket, a ride to the airport?"

"My sister has taken care of my ticket and Jonas, Mr. Ellison's chauffer, will drive me to the airport." The housekeeper shook Simon's hand enthusiastically. "Thank you again, Mr. Banks. You most certainly will have a spot reserved for you in heaven because of your generous heart."

Before the artist could respond, Sally was out the door, calling for the nurse. Shaking his head and silently thanking God for small miracles, Simon resumed his post beside James' bed and tangled his fingers in the youth's hair.

"Si?"

Simon reached for his chair and pulled it close to the bed again. "James? You're awake?"

"Kinda hard to sleep with the two of you yelling in my ear."

"We weren't yelling," Simon said as he sat down.

"Sounded like yelling to me." James rubbed his face with both hands before trying to sit up. "Shit!" he exclaimed when the sudden move jarred both his cracked ribs and his broken leg. "How long do I have to wear this fucking cast?"

"The doc said it would be at least three months." Simon rose from his seat and helped the teenager maneuver his leg. Slipping an extra pillow beneath the extremity, Simon remained standing and played with James' toes for a few seconds. "They tell me your cast is bright blue."

"Yeah. Damn thing'll probably glow in the dark." James reached behind his neck and untied his gown, grunting with pain as he stripped it off and tossed it across the room, his injured ribs protesting the angry discard of clothing.

"James?" Simon reached out and encountered bare skin. "Where's your gown?"

"It was scratching the hell out of me. Must've been ironed with ten tons of starch," the youth groused as he tugged on the binder that was wrapped around his chest.

An uncomfortable silence fell between the two and Simon waited for several minutes before speaking. "I take it you heard what Sally and I were discussing?"

"I heard." James picked at the sheets, slowly inching his fingers closer and closer to where Simon's bandaged hand rested on his bed. "Dad's gonna shit a house load of bricks when he finds out Sally left me with you."

"And why's that?"

"Dad's a first class racist. If you're not white and loaded with dough, you're not worth his time." James tentatively touched the edge of the gauze dressing that was on Simon's hand. "Si?"

"What is it, James?"

"I...."

From the way the teenager was stroking the top of his hand, Simon knew the boy was more than likely trying to apologize for his behavior the day before. Realizing how hard that task would be for James and not wanting to rush him in any way, Simon remained silent and kept his hand perfectly still.

"The other day, Si... when you... I mean when I... oh hell!" James lifted Simon's hand and turned it over carefully, staring at the hand as if willing it with his eyes to heal quickly. "I'm sorry for everything," the teen rushed out. "Sorry for breaking your statue, sorry you got hurt, sorry I ran instead of staying and listening to you." James touched one finger to a spot of old blood that stained the pristine white gauze. "Hell, Si, I'm sorry for being a fucking asshole."

"James, it's...."

James cut Simon off. "No! It's not okay. I acted like a spoiled brat." The teen took a deep breath. "You and me, we love each other but I forgot that. I let shit from my past make me think you were dumping me just like everyone else." James let go of Simon's hand and grabbed a pillow, hugging it to his chest like a shield. "Nobody sticks with me. Not my mom, not my dad, not even my friends. They get tired of me acting like a jerk and they leave. I don't mean to act like a jerk but sometimes I feel really messed up inside and I get all angry and it just comes out before I can stop it."

"It really hurt when you told me to go home." James buried his face in the pillow's softness. "After you let me spend those couple of nights with you, I was hoping you'd let me stay over all the time. It kinda blew my mind when you told me to go home. I didn't know Stevie had been jerking your chain, Si. All I knew was you didn't seem to want me anymore and I just got fucking mad."

Simon moved closer to James and stroked his hand down the teen's back. "I care so very much for you, Tiger. So much so I was willing to cave in to Stevie's threats in order to keep you safe from your father's anger." Bending down, he touched his lips to the nape of James' neck. "I would do anything, make any sacrifice if it meant your happiness and well-being."

James turned his head and gazed at the blind artist. "But Si, you're the one who makes me happy. Not my dad, not Stevie, you, Si. You make me feel good and I don't mean the good feelings that come from you fucking me. I mean good inside. In here." James tapped Simon on his chest and then on his forehead. "I don't feel so messed up inside when I'm with you. The anger just ain't there when you and me are together."

Simon closed the space between them and kissed James softly. "I never meant to hurt you, James. Forgive me?"

Ignoring the discomfort of his ribs, James shoved the pillow aside and wrapped his arms around Simon, pulling him as close as possible. "Nothing to forgive, Si. It's me and that little bastard, Stevie who should be sorry for hurting you. God, I'm gonna kill that brother of mine next time I get my hands on his scrawny neck."

"Forget about Stevie. We'll worry about him later." Simon nuzzled James' neck. "Are we okay with each other? Do you believe me when I say I want you with me all the time?"

James grinned and ran one hand down to Simon's crotch, chuckling when he felt the older man's body respond to his groping. "Oh, I can tell you definitely want me. In more ways than one."

Simon grabbed James' hand and pushed it away. "Tiger, I'm serious."

James captured Simon's face and kissed him hard. "We're okay, Si. One hundred percent okay." Moving his mouth to the blind man's ear, the teen whispered. "In fact, I'd be feeling so much more than okay if you'd go lock that door so that you can give me a blow job. Seeing you all mussed up has got me feeling hornier than hell."

Realizing James was, once again, trying to hide his emotions behind a show of sexual bravado, Simon tenderly embraced him. "I love you, Tiger."

James hid his face in the crook of Simon's neck and whispered hoarsely, "I... I love you, Si. More than you'll ever know."

Wishing to further reassure his young lover, Simon began to speak but stopped when his uninjured hand was caught and slapped down over James' naked groin.

"Now, how 'bout that blow job?"

Simon shook his head and laughed. "Boy!"

End Work of Desire, Chapter 13 by Angelise: ldcldc@earthlink.net

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