Home is where the heart is

Okay, maybe I didn’t run straight into Vlad. I ran away when I was seventeen, and spent an okay summer with regular summer jobs, but never enough for an apartment, so I would stay under various places hoping not to be found. Fall wasn’t too bad, either, but then I had a cold winter barely surviving under a bridge with a bunch of other runaways and hitchhikers somewhere near the museum of Contemporary Photography, which I snuck into on a daily basis so that I could visit without having to pay. I’m surprised I wasn’t looked for there; guess dad never imagined his son would be anywhere near such a place. I stayed under the bridge the whole winter because so many bodies huddled together provided some warmth. I still had a key to the apartment, which also meant having the electronic key which allowed access into the building, which also meant access to the saunas and pool, which both had showers. I would sneak into the apartment when I was sure dad was gone to grab the laundry room key card, but I always put on my own money in careful amounts so that dad wouldn’t notice the change. Having that key also allowed me to go back for my stuff a year later. Dad probably noticed that, but I didn’t stick around to find out.

It was a few days after my eighteenth birthday. Summer was half-way over, and I wondered if I’d make it through another winter. I had caught a bad cough the year before and my lungs were still a little worn from the experience. A man with his black hair tied into a respectable-looking ponytail and wearing an authentic Armani suit was passing by under the bridge on the walking path. He walked to each one of us and handed out a few twenty-dollar bills each, except for me. He handed me a note with two words: follow me.
And so I did. I wasn’t sure if it was such a bright idea at the time. For all I knew he might have thought I was a gigolo or something; but I followed. After we were out of earshot of the others, he turned to me:

“I have a proposition for you: how would you like it if you could go to whatever school you wanted or get just about any job you wanted? I can arrange that. I would also allow you to live with me, no rent required, and I’d get you whatever furniture or otherwise that you’d need.”

“What’s the catch?” “No catch. I may ask you to do certain things for me, but it won’t seem like a big deal when the time comes, trust me.”

I almost said no. He sounded like a pimp. But then again, what choice did I have? So I said o.k. I wasn’t disappointed. He quickly noticed in my trying to keep up with him that I got out of breath easily so the first thing he did was bring me to a doctor. As I was eighteen by that time, the doctor didn’t need anything that only my father could provide, so no big deal. She diagnosed me with asthma and prescribed me two different puffers: orange for daily use, blue for emergencies. Alrighty, fine; so I have a lung condition.

Next thing Vlad did was ask me where I’d rather get clothes from. I said Wal-Mart only because I was used to it and I knew where to find everything. I had quickly gotten the impression that he didn’t care how expensive it would be. So we browsed through and he asked me to pick as many clothes and in any style I liked. That was quickly done and over with. When he noticed my gothic style, he brought me to the Rideau Centre to a little boutique on the first floor, opposite a restaurant and bakery. The boutique was called Trivium, and they had everything goth. I got some leather pants and a long, leather jacket with crosses on the sides of the arms. There was some other stuff I almost got, but decided to hold off for the moment. He bought me dinner at the restaurant across and let me order whatever I wanted, then took me to his house and up to what was to become my bedroom. I hadn’t eaten so much in so long that I was really tired. He let me sleep, no problem.

When I woke up later that evening, Vlad was waiting for me in a chair beside my bed and he smiled sweetly at me while stroking my hair back from my face. Just seeing his expression was enough to let me trust him. “You look like an angel when you sleep. Now, come. Dinner is ready and the girls are anxious to meet you.” I got up and followed him downstairs, the uneasy feeling settling again. Girls? What was this place, a brothel?
But the girls were dressed so normally. Okay, Christine had that black artiste thing going on, but at least they didn’t look like sluts. That relaxed me; a little. We had pizza for supper while Vlad explained, with the help of Sadako and Christine, just what went on here. He just wanted to help the three of us, whom he saw something special in. Yes, there would be sexual activities involved, but it was to remain among us four, and it would never be against our will. Hey, I could live with that: sex with two gorgeous girls anytime I wanted so long as they were consenting? Great!

I wasn’t expecting Vlad would get in on me, too. One night he came to see me while I was reading Anne Rice, my favourite author, and he kissed me. I looked at him in shock for several seconds before he began petting my hair on the side of my face. Ok, so my hair goes down to just past my ears: my dad hated it, I loved it.

“You didn’t think there’d be stuff between us, did you?” I shook my head. He smiled sadly. “I’ll give you time. Maybe you’ll want to eventually, maybe you won’t. It’s your choice.” And he left.

I talked to Sadako about it the next day. She didn’t treat me like a kid, unlike Christine. “Well, I think the first question you should ask yourself is this: are you bisexual?” “I didn’t think so, but seeing him kind of sad, it made me feel guilty. And I get the feeling it’s not just because of what he’s done for me so far.” “Well, there is a way to find out. I’ve seen you reading the Vampire Chronicles: how do you feel about the relationship between Lestat and Louis?”

“Uh… well, they love each other and that’s all that matters, so far as I’m concerned. But that’s romantic stuff. That’s not what Vlad wants, is it?” Sadako sighed impatiently. “It may not be exactly the same kind of love that takes place between the type of couples that usually marry, but he does love us. Someday he may try bath time with you, you’ll see what I mean. He wants us to be happy, and he cares very much about how we feel. He picked us because he felt something for us when he first saw us. After rescuing me, he could have sent me home. He preferred keeping me. He helps a bunch of so-called ‘hopeless’ causes people all over the city, but he only keeps us three. Why do you think?”

That got me thinking. Through careful Internet searching, I found a bunch of homosexual erotica stories, and thought (after reading several): Yeah, I could do this. I could do stuff with a guy. But how to approach Vlad, now? Well, fate stepped in for that.
Not surprisingly, with winter came external complications for my lungs, and I had a bad attack. After a few days at the hospital, I came back home but still had to stay in bed. Just getting up to go to the bathroom got me badly out of breath. Well, Sadako was the one who usually brought up my meals, which included a green tea infused with lemon to help my cold. One day, she and Christine went out shopping and so Vlad had to bring me my lunch.

He chatted around normally while I ate so that he wouldn’t have to make extra trips leaving and then coming back for the dishes. After I finished, I put the tray on my bedside table. Vlad was about to take it, but I put my hand on his.

“Could you come back after? I’d like to talk some more.” Ooh… sexy. My voice sounds like a frog. But he nodded and had just the ghost of a smile. His grey eyes looked like fog I could (or wanted to) lose myself in. When he returned and sat down next to me on the chair, I tried to push myself up to sit on the edge of the bed, but he stopped me.
“Easy, you’ll bring on another coughing fit.” My cold had already gone through the household, but I was taking the longest to recover. But, very luckily, getting me to lie back meant that he had to stand up and get closer to me. He was just about to move away, but I held onto his hands. Damn, my heart was pounding as he sat down on the edge of the bed. I wondered briefly if I was blushing, then felt the heat in my cheeks.

Vlad flashed another small smile at me. He understood. He held my hands in his and stroked them lovingly. We just stayed like that for several seconds before I tried to sit up again. This time Vlad helped me and held me against him; my arms around his midsection, his arms around my shoulders. I smiled as he held me, the moment felt so beautiful. We held each other for a few minutes before Vlad got the idea of getting under the covers with me to hold me to him leaning on the pillows. We continued to hold each other, both very content, when I noticed it; I had a boner. Damn. What would Vlad say if he noticed? Shit, he had. I was leaning next to him, right in a position where I was pressed against his hip; how could he not notice?

But the next moment he was kissing me; softly, tenderly, my arms wrapped around him. He was caressing my bare chest and I would have been whimpering if my voice had been in better condition. He inched his hand downward and smoother his way along my stomach. He didn’t go inside my boxers right away, but pressed his hand against my hardness through the fabric. I was nearly sobbing, heartbroken by how beautiful and special he made it seem.

He drew his hand away only to slip it inside my boxers a moment later and hold my cock firmly. He started to stroke it and I held onto him tighter, desperately needing my release, which exploded only moments later. I laid my head on his chest, weeping at the intimacy with which he brought the moment. I think I must have passed out afterward, because all I remember was a kiss on my forehead and Vlad promising that he would give me more soon. A few days later when I was better, he brought me to his room and took me for the first time. He made sure I would enjoy every bit: every caress, every kiss.