Perfect Boyfriend : Chapter Three

[Hialmar]

Chapter One is found HERE

Chapter Two is found HERE

Perfect Boyfriend

Chapter Three

 

Next morning, Mike was very hungry, but Dr. Korsakoff insisted to take a few blood samples before breakfast. Someone had put a new pair of Adidas bottoms, a jockstrap and socks on his chair, but, unlike yesterday, there was also a stretchy black vest in that new material based on maize and bamboo. Benjy – no ... Mr. Narushkin-FitzFforbes – entered his room, energetic like a happy puppy:

"You look splendid in that vest, Mike. It shows all your muscle. You ... you are amazing, Mike!"

Mr. Narushkin-FitzFforbes came closer and hugged Mike, but it didn't feel good like yesterday. It felt ... It felt superficial. Mr. Narushkin-FitzFforbes took a step backwards, held Mike's hands and stared up into his face with a worried expression:

"What's wrong, handsome? Still shaken after yesterday?"

Mike shrugged, retrieved his hands from Mr. Narushin-FitzFforbes' grip and answered hesitatingly:

"Yes, probably something like that. Have you eaten?"

The worried expression in Mr. Narushkin-FitzFforbes' face didn't disappear, but the latter answered:

"No, I wanted to eat breakfast together with the most amazing man I know."

"Hm. I'm ravenous."

They shared the breakfast in oppressive silence, but when both had finished their meal, Mr. Narushkin-FitzFforbes suggested a guided tour:

"If you don't remember how to find your way around the facility, I have to jog your memory. That might cheer you up. I haven't seen you this sombre for ages."

On their way out of the building, Mr. Narushkin-FitzFforbes politely nodded in the direction of two men standing outside an office room, one of them a middle aged man in a white suit holding a panama hat, the other one a tall muscular thirty year old in a black short-sleeved uniform:

"Mr. Copley. Mr. Gútierrez."

Mike felt an impulse to ask when he had been this sombre last time, but he quenched that impulse, in order to not reveal the tiny fragments of information he knew. He walked in a different manner than before, and he hadn't got used to this new waddling gait, his shoulders swagging while he walked. They were outside one of the buildings, and walked along a paved path in the direction of what looked like a beach. Greenish blue waves washed against a white, sand covered beach, palm trees slowly waving in the breeze.

"I promised you to refresh your memory about the island."

"Mmmm."

"The facility was built by a wealthy businessman after the early groundbreaking 'hancing experiments, and after the military use of 'hancing technology had become standard."

"The Space War, wasn't it?"

"Indeed. And suddenly, after the Space War, wealthy businessmen and hero-worshipping teenagers – gay or not – realized, that Space Marines walk amongst us ... All those Space War movies did their part to the hype, I guess ... and in several circles at once the idea rose to apply 'hancing tech for, ahum, recreational and cosmetic purposes."

Mr. Narushkin-FitzFforbes laughed in that restrained manner again, before continuing:

"You always complain about what you call my interest in 'hancing trivia."

"My memory is blurry, but that sounds familiar. I just wanted to become big, not rattle off all the alternative means available."

"Wanted?"

"Yes, how so? I'm big now, if you haven't noticed. Thanks."

Mr. Narushkin-FitzFforbes fell silent for a moment, and began to look like a worried Benjy again.

"Nothing. What I wanted to tell you about the island was, that ..."

"Sir? Sir! There is a call to the stationary pad. It's your father, Sir."

Mr. Copley came running from the main building in their direction. Slowly, Mike recognized him as Benjy's secretary. A shadow clouded Benjy's face, and, without a word, he returned to the main building. Mike slowly strolled in the same direction.

 

* * *

Mike enjoyed the sunshine on his face and arms. Next time, he would probably wear shorts ... perhaps even skip the vest. His suspicions were nagging him. On his way back to his hospital bed, he passed by Mr. Narushkin-FitzFforbes' office. He was unable to hear the elder Mr. Narushkin-FitzFforbes' part of the conversation, but it was impossible to not overhear the younger one:

"Hostile takeover? Who are you to speak, dear old Papa? It was your own arrangement, that I dispose my own money however I like, in order to avoid any quarrel with the Wicked Witch of the West."

By the tone of his voice, it didn't sound like his boyfriend used the words "dear old" entirely literally.

"No, I talk about her however I wish. When you married her, she was younger than I am now. You betrayed Mama, that's what you did."

Mike oughtn't to pry. He had learned to not eavesdrop by his ... his sweet Mum. It was slowly coming back, now. The kind, hardworking tenant's wife ... His hardworking earnest Dad. The hens, the cow and the hydrogen harvester they shared with their neighbours. Farmland expanding further north, because of the improving weather ... well, improving in northern Canada, not elsewhere. 

When he returned to his bed, Dr. Korsakoff was there. Mike wouldn't have given it a thought, hadn't it been for the fact, that Dr. Korsakoff was holding Mike's a-Pad with a guilty expression in his face.

"What are you doing with my a-Pad, Dr. Korsakoff?"

Mike's powerful shape loomed and towered over Dr. Korsakoff, and hadn't he been so suspicious, he could have enjoyed the situation.

"I was ... I was worried, that you risked to mislay your a-Pad, Mr. Jones."

"Thank you for your concern, Dr. Korsakoff. May I have my a-Pad now."

Mike extended his palm, waiting.

With a nervous gesture, Dr Korsakoff gave the a-Pad back to Mike, and left the room.

* * *

Chapter Four is found HERE

Edited September 5, 2022 by Hialmar
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[Ro20316]

I dont know what is happening but im.invested