'They gazed into each others eyes lovingly....'

Oh shit, the young man, thought to himself as he hit the delete button on his keyboard angrily. Why did he keep doing this to himself. He wasn't a fucking romance novelist. That's not what they paid him for. Get a grip, Justin Taylor, he told himself for the tenth time today. You know who you are and what you are. Stop running off into flights of fancy, he scolded himself.

The young man, with hair the color of white gold and a small frame that fit him perfectly, got up from his desk and wandered off to his kitchen. The apartment was small but more than enough for him. He lived alone, just the way he liked it after finally escaping from that place that some would call home but he always thought of as his prison. It had been five years now and he felt triumphant in every blessed minute that he had been on his own. If he never saw his father again, it would be perfectly alright with him. He was just thankful that his mother had finally grown a backbone and stood up to her abusive husband. She had been free of the man for the last two years and Justin finally had a family to spend time with occasionally on those moments that he felt the need.

Justin grabbed a bottle of Dr. Pepper from the fridge and made his way back to the little alcove where he had his makeshift office which consisted of one small computer desk and a good quality new computer that his mom had given him for his twenty third birthday. The old copier sat to the side. Justin pulled out his desk chair and wheeled himself back into place in front of the keyboard. He had a job to do and he was running behind. Writing adult stories for gay magazines and a publishing house that catered only to a gay audience was not what Justin had set out to do for a living, but the pay was certainly good. His dream was to save enough money to finally buy a place he could call his own. He then planned on taking a sabbatical and writing one really good novel that didn't rely on sex only. He dreamed of writing the quintessential gay romance novel, which wouldn't be easy since Justin knew nothing first hand of romance.

Justin had spent his entire adult life avoiding relationships. Trust didn't come easy to the young man. He had learned at a very young age not to trust. It only brought pain. He had trusted his dad to protect him, but instead the man found fault with everything Justin said and did. Nothing was good enough for Craig Taylor. He seemed to get a perverse pleasure out of pointing out all of his son's faults, such as his lack of interest in sports and his closeness to his mother. He had the cruel habit of making promises to Justin frequently, such as a promise to take the boy with him on business trips, and then breaking them every time. Eventually Justin learned to never trust his dad about anything.

As Justin got older, life got more unendurable. Craig began harassing his son over his lack of girlfriends. Justin had only connected with one girl, Daphne, from kindergarten on. They were more like brother and sister than anything and lived just a block apart in the fancy neighborhood that Craig's businesses provided. Craig had a string of furniture and appliance stores that he once told everyone his only son would take over someday. This was another bone of contention in the already strained relationship between father and son. One of the worst moments between the two came when Justin was only weeks away from his high school graduation. Craig had sent in applications to Dartmouth, his alma mater, for Justin so that his son could learn to handle business administration. Justin, who dreamed of being a writer since early childhood, was appalled at the idea. When he made it clear he had no intention of attending a business school, Craig blew up. He slapped Justin hard across the face. It wasn't the first time, but it was the final time.

Justin spent the next few weeks camped out at Daphne's house. Jennifer begged her friends to keep an eye on Justin and give him a break from his overbearing father, which they readily agreed to knowing the rocky relationship between father and son. Justin stayed home from the prom despite Daphne's plea for him to join her and her boyfriend. He got right to making his plans to find a job as quickly as possible after he had his diploma in hand so that he could get his own place. Two weeks later Justin was working as a bellhop at one of the best hotels in the city and had found a loft apartment in SoHo that he shared with three other artists and writers.

It took Justin more than two years to luck into the break of his life. Justin was super cautious with his money and saved every penny he could manage. The young man had ambitions and was willing to sacrifice for them. He had every intention of making more of himself than his father expected. He was going to be one big fat fucking success as a writer if it killed him. He spent most of his off time working on the great American novel. Justin had known since middle school that he was gay. His attraction to his male teacher in eighth grade was a clue. His even stronger attraction to some of the jocks in high school cinched it. Knowing, of course, was not the same as acting on his attractions. Justin never got around to that. The fear of his father finding out was a strong motivator in suppressing his yearnings. Instead he learned how to relieve himself in as many ways as was possible for a healthy young man. His one desire was to write a really quality story involving gay love.

One night when Justin was working the all night shift at the hotel, which he volunteered for since it paid much better, a phone call came in at the desk. The voice at the other end sounded frantic but didn't say why. Justin hurried up to find out what the guest needed. When Justin entered the room he found the guest, a distinguished looking man with graying hair, standing in the living room of the deluxe suite. He was wearing nothing but a towel. He ran over to Justin and grabbed him by the arm.

"You've got to help me," he blustered out. "I just got a call from my daughter. She wanted to talk to her mother. My wife was going to surprise me and join me for the convention, but her plane is delayed and she hasn't gotten here yet."

"That's very nice Sir, but what can I do for you?" Justin asked, clearly perplexed.

The man grabbed tighter to Justin's arm and steered him over to the door leading into a large bedroom. He pushed the door open and revealed a naked young man sprawled out on top of the disheveled sheets. The older man turned to Justin.

"Him! That's what you can do for me. He's passed out and I can't get him awake enough to get him out of here. I need you to help me. Maybe get him another room and take him there. Anything. Just get him out of my room before my wife gets here!"

Justin could see the raw panic in the man's face. This was certainly not one of his normal duties, but his job was to please the customers. Besides, a job like this might lead to a really good tip. Justin promised to take care of things and watched the man relax visibly just a tiny bit. He quickly went to the bathroom while Justin hurried to the phone. He called down to the desk and asked his friend, Greta, if there were any vacancies on the twelfth floor. Greta found two. Justin knocked on the bathroom door and asked if it would be alright to charge the room to the man's account. Once he had permission, Justin relayed the information and Greta agreed to make the charge. Justin promised to explain later and told her he would use his house key card to take care of the unexpected new guest.

Justin proceeded to re-dress the barely conscious man in the bed. The older man exited the bathroom fully dressed. He gathered up his companion's wallet and jacket and followed Justin to the door while he did his best to support the young man between them. They exited the suite and moved quickly down the hall to the newly reserved room, which was luckily only six doors down. The hallway was as quiet as a church during prayers. Once Justin and the older man got the young man into the new room, which was not half as grand as the one they'd just left, they moved quickly to deposit their package onto the bed. The young man never even knew what transpired as he sank back into his deep sleep once more.

"I'm Mr. Smithers, young man, and you've just saved my life. I owe you big time for this. I'm going to leave a note for...for...well hell, I never did get his name. Anyway, I'm leaving him his money and a note to explain. He should be perfectly okay. He's a pro so he'll know what to do when he wakes. I just want you to know that I don't forget when someone does right by me. Thank you so much, Mr. ahhhh....oh let's see. It's Taylor, Justin Taylor according to your name tag. Thanks again Mr. Taylor."

The man clasped Justin's hand and pulled away leaving several bills behind as he did. Justin looked down and realized that all the bills were hundred dollar ones. He looked up and smiled gratefully.

"You're more than welcome, Mr. Smithers. Just doing my job. I'll take care of cleaning up and getting your guest settled. You'd better get back to your room so that you'll be there when your wife arrives," Justin told him with no judgments in his voice.

Mr. Smithers looked at Justin with gratitude. For the first time he also looked at the cute young blond with admiration. But there was no time to pursue where his thoughts raced off to for one split second. He shook Justin's hand once more and hurried off. Justin undressed the male prostitute enough to make him comfortable and settled him into the bed. He made sure the money and note that Mr. Smithers had left was in plain sight on the dresser along with the man's shirt and pants and exited the room. That might have been the end of it if it hadn't been for the fact that Justin discovered the next day what kind of convention Mr. Smithers was attending.

The hotel was actually hosting two different conventions at the same time. One was for dentists. The other was for publishing houses. Mr. Smithers just happened to be a member of the publishing business. His family owned several small but popular publishing companies that catered to different markets. When Justin came into work the next day he spotted Mr. and Mrs Smithers coming out of the ballroom where a large after speech party was being held for the convention. He saw a golden opportunity knocking at his door. He wasn't really sure he should grab at the brass ring or how Mr. Smithers would react, but he decided quickly that nothing ventured, nothing gained.

His opportunity came the next day when he got a call to return to the same suite right after he came on duty. When Justin arrived at the door, Mr. Smithers ushered him in. He explained that his wife had gone to see a play and he just wanted to take the opportunity to thank his savior again for coming to his rescue. Justin knew it was now or never. He proceeded to tell Mr. Smithers about his dream of being a published author. A half hour later, Justin and Daniel were on a first name basis and Dan had promised to check out Justin's work. He gave the address in Pittsburgh where he had his main office.

That was how it all began. Justin didn't hesitate to send some samples of his work, mailing off a few of the short stories he personally enjoyed writing the most. Dan didn't patronize Justin at all. He was totally blunt when he informed the young man that his work was raw. Dan also informed Justin that he saw great potential too. He worked with Justin, providing him with some of his most skilled editors, until the boy's stories were worthy of publishing. They started slowly with short stories in magazines and eventually Justin had complete multi-chaptered stories in paperback form. One day, on a lark, Justin wrote a truly pornographic sex scene between two men into his story. He regretted doing it the moment he hit the send button on his computer, but hoped that Dan's editor would just have a good laugh. Instead, Justin received a personal call from Dan. Justin then found himself the newest contributor to Dan's all gay XXX publishing house. Apparently the young man had a flair for sex, even if he didn't spend any time sharing it with anyone else.

The pay was really good once Justin centered his work on his sex stories and he was finally able to rent a more comfortable apartment. He never looked back, except when he dreamed of turning in a romantic novel that would appeal to a wide audience. He worked on it in his spare time, but somehow the heroes of his story never formed fully in his mind. He despaired of ever bringing his lovers to life, especially since he had nothing in his own life to base them on.

Justin placed his hands back on his keyboard and began typing out the next paragraph of his newest adult feature. Cocks, balls, rimming, ramming, sucking, fucking, and orgasms flowed onto the screen. No more longing looks, no kisses for Justin. He knew what his job was and he would do it to his best ability. When he had a moment, he'd tackle that love story again.

***************************************************************

Brian Kinney looked over at his newest client and smiled. It hadn't been easy drawing Smithers Publishing Houses away from the Vanguard Advertising Agency, but perseverance paid off. It didn't hurt that a meeting with the head man proved providential when his assistant came on to Brian in the bathroom during a break and Brian gave the cute businessman the ramming of his life. Once Brian had their attention, the sample campaign he had offered them cinched the deal. Now Mr. Smithers sat in his office and had just handed over a list of top writers and their works in the different departments that the publishing house covered.

Brian quickly perused the list. Some of them sounded rather dry, such as the how-to writers, but others sparked Brian's interest. There were three or four names to each section along with a photo I. D. of each writer. Few of them inspired much interest in the ad exec. He knew he could work with what he had to come up with a spectacular campaign to boost the publishing house's revenue but it would take some creativity and ingenuity...both of which Brian Kinney knew he had in ample supply. Brian Kinney was nothing, if not honest about himself. He knew his worth, and he made damn sure others did too.

He had looked through a dozen photos when he stopped short. He had reached the section that displayed the best authors in the adult fiction department...translation: just short of or including porn. Because of the subject matter, he was more than surprised to see one face. The author looked to be barely eighteen, with an angelic face any mother could love. Brian checked the name...Justin Taylor. What the hell did a kid like this know about sex? Brian snickered to himself. If that face was the face of experience, Brian was a virgin....which practically every gay man in Pittsburgh knew was about as far from the truth as the Earth from the Sun. 'Well,' Brian asked himself, 'how in the world could he match that face to the kid's work'? Well, he reminded himself, he could sell anything so it would be done.

Brian continued checking out the information while Mr. Smithers waited patiently. When Brian finished he tossed the thick portfolio onto the large desk behind him.

"All right, Sir. I have everything I need to get started. I'll spend the next few days reading samples of your writer's works and then get a campaign started. Give me a couple of weeks to research and give you a first draft. Deal?"

Mr. Smithers stood up from his chair and walked over to Brian, who still leaned against his desk. He stuck out his hand and gave Brian a firm handshake.

"Deal. I expect big things from you Kinney. You came highly recommended by my assistant and your past reputation. And please call me Dan. If we're going to do business, I like to be on a first name basis."

"Dan it is. And call me Brian. I'll get back with you as soon as I have something worth showing."

The men exchanged a few more pleasantries and then bid each other adieu. It was late and Brian was more than ready to call it a day. It had been a busy one. He snatched the portfolio back up and stuffed it into his six hundred dollar tobacco colored rich leather briefcase, a personal gift to himself when he opened his own ad agency, Kinnetik, Inc. He would take the thing home and start checking out the works of some of the writers who caught his interest the most....but only after a trip to Babylon, his favorite dance club. After all, it was Friday and time to work out some kinks from the long week. Time enough to do his homework tomorrow.

To be continued..............................