Take Care of Me

What did I look like, 5’8, 19 years old, sweating my ass off on a little Huffy mountain bike that I ain’t rode since middle school? It was now a rusty, squealing, piece of shit. My clothes were sticking to me because of this damn summer heat. I had no license, no car, and no money to buy one.



I had no job because no one wanted to hire a fresh outta high school newbie with no job experience. Next year, I’d be starting college, and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do.

Right now, it was too damn hot to think about anything but getting my ass home. My piece of shit bike squeaked down my neighborhood, passing the same houses with the same people in them since I was in elementary school.

I was stuck riding my bike again since FJ left for college last August. He, with his 2016 Chevy Camaro, were my ride everywhere for the past two years.

I missed FJ. He was my friend. More than that, he was my first.

We weren’t lovers or anything like that. I just looked up to him. We lived in the same neighborhood and went to the same high school. He was one grade level above me, but we were both on the baseball team except he was on varsity and I was jv. We practiced together and we hung out around the neighborhood. He was cool, like a big brother I never had, except we banged.

Our secret fuckbuddy relationship happened towards the end of his senior year and my junior year, when we were at his house.

He was the only person who knew I was a queer.

I mean- I wasn’t hiding the fact that I was, but I didn’t go around announcing it either. If you knew, great, but if you didn’t, now you knew. FJ knew though, and he took advantage of it

.

It happened one night a few months before he left for college. After some secret drinking of his dad’s liquor and some drunken confessions of secret fantasies, our secret fuckbuddy relationship started. He fucked me in his room that night, and that’s where we had been doing it ever since.

He did me whenever he could. He fucked fast and rough. Not that I cared. It was good, and FJ was just my type.



He was built like a Greek god. Olive skin, slick black hair, 6’1 and ripped thanks to practically living at the gym every day. He was a hunk.

I didn’t compare to him. I wasn’t ripped, but I kept a lean shape. My hair was thick and curly. My skin was dark like FJ’s too, but my face was freckled which everyone always said made me look ‘cute’.

He also shaved everywhere, and I loved feeling his smooth chiseled body against mine or his smooth long cock against my lips. I didn’t have much body hair to begin with.

Although FJ was just my type, he did unfortunately have the personality of a tube of ground beef. If conversation didn’t involve baseball or how much he bench pressed that day or how much he’ll try the next day then it didn’t interest him. He could be a bit of a spoiled brat and abrasive at times when I wasn’t in the mood to have sex.

It still didn’t matter to me. I liked him. A lot.

But now he was gone to a university in another state, and I was stuck here. Bored outta my mind.

I was getting close to passing his house. His family was kinda rich. He had the biggest house on our block because his pops owned a chain of restaurants and bars throughout the city: Giovanni’s.

I didn’t even notice Mr. Giovanni sitting in their garage until I heard “Aye yo, Georgy!” when I was passing by. He waved me over. “Come over here. Lemme talk to ya.”

That was Frank Giovanni. a.k.a Big Frank- FJ’s dad.

FJ told me that his dad had divorced his mom and had remained a bachelor since FJ was 10 years old. It used to be just them two living in that big house, but I guess it was just Mr. Giovanni now.

He was in their garage, sifting around some trash bags. I knew Mr. Giovanni just as much as everyone else: a chill, savvy, businessman, FJ’s pops who would treat the baseball team to pizza after a victory, and a man who liked his parties and liquor.

I hadn’t really sat down and talked to him one on one before because I had no reason to, but he was always nice to me around the neighborhood.

“Hey Mr. Giovanni.” I said.

“Geez Georgy, I can hear you coming up the street on that piece of shit before I can even see you.” He said.

He talked like FJ did, fast and abrasive. FJ resembled him a little except Mr. Giovanni was bald, and kinda plump with a beer gut, but he was an enormous man. He was a couple inches taller than FJ, and everything about him was big. His meaty arms and shoulders. His thick legs, and his beefy wide torso. Three of me could fit in his lap. He honestly scared me a bit.

He always dressed like he was getting ready to go out somewhere, and he wore a thin gold chain with a cross pendant around his neck, but a big gold watch on his left wrist.

FJ didn’t like body hair, but Mr. Giovanni was hairy. Way hairy. He had a full black beard and kept it neatly trimmed, but hair covered his arms and legs and under his pits. His black bush of chest hair always spilled out from the top of his unbuttoned polos, and when he lifted his shirt to scratch, a thick trail of it went down into his pants.

“When you gonna get a real ride?” He asked.

“Whenever someone decides to hire me somewhere.”

“What’re you talking about? You know you can get a job at one of my spots. Be a pizza boy or work the bar. How old are you now anyways? 21?”

“19.”

“Oh.” He scratched under his shirt, exposing that black rug underneath. “Be a busboy then.”

“I don’t know Mr. Giovanni.” I said unsure, but fully aware that I did not want to work at his restaurants or bars. He catered to a different, less than wholesome, crowd of people. Mostly men like himself. Plus, I didn’t have the skills for it anyways. “I’m not cut out for restaurant work.”

“What are you talking about? You wipe the table with a rag. Easy money.”

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” Was always my final answer.

“Eh right.” He waved it off.

“What are you doing?”

He scoffed. “Frankie moves but leaves his garbage here for me to deal with. That kid’s unbelievable. So, I’m clearing out the garage, but it’s too damn hot out here. Where you headed, Georgy?”

“Home. It’s too hot to go anywhere.”

“Hell, yeah it is.” He wiped the sweat from his bald forehead. “What you been up to?”

“Nothing much.”

“You ain’t been up to nothing new since Frankie left? You two grew close before he left. Still playing baseball? Ain’t started college yet?”

I shrugged. “Can’t start school until next January. And I really ain’t felt like playing baseball lately.”

He stopped sifting through the bags and raised a thick dark eyebrow at me. “You miss him, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Kinda.”

He huffed. “Well if you miss him so much, come dig through his shit. See if you find something you like then you can haul the rest to the donation box for me.”

I got off my bike and dug through the bags. The clothes even smelled like him. I always liked FJ’s smell. A mix of his cologne and his natural musk. The bags were filled with his old workout shirts and shorts. I didn’t find anything I wanted, but I came across his old red jockstrap. I remembered him wearing it in the locker room at school one day. His ass was amazing in it. Just smelling it and thinking about him in it was getting me hard.

“That’s it. I give up.” Mr. Giovanni threw his hands in the air. “It’s too damn hot out here. Come inside, Georgy. I’ll grab you something to drink.” He waved me in.

“That’s ok. I gotta get home and shower.” I carefully got up, hoping he wouldn’t see the front of my pants growing.

“I wasn’t asking you what you were about to do, I’m telling you to get in here and get a cold pop.” He walked inside.

Now I see where FJ got his aggressive personality from.

I sat on his couch, and he gave me a cold pop.

“Thanks Mr. Giovanni.”

“Enough with the “Mr. Giovanni” eh? How many years you know me? It’s Frank.”

“Sorry Frank.” I said. “So, when’s FJ coming back to visit?”

“Pfft. Whenever he gets his nose outta those girls’ pussies.” He stood at his dining room bar and poured himself a glass of brandy. “He’s a dog. Used to bring them lil bitches in my house, eating up all my food, drinking my liquor. Ridiculous.”

I knew what me and FJ had wasn’t anything serious, but hearing that he had girls here while we were together bummed me out.

“But I suspect he’ll be here at the end of this month.” He said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ma throw him a big party too. Food, music, booze. All of it. You better be there too.”

“Who would miss one of your parties?”

“True. True.” He finished his glass. “You got yourself a lil girly yet?”

“No sir.”

“When you gonna get you one?”

Never.

“Not any time soon.” I swirled my drink.

“I hear ya. Them bitches will pretend to love ya, then run you for everything got, leaving you high and dry. Listen to experience.” He pointed at me.

“I am.”

“That’s good. You’re a smart kid. Bookish and modest unlike Lil’ Frank. He could’ve learned something from you.” He poured himself another drink. “So how long you and FJ been going at it?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ve always hung out with him and the others around the neighborhood. We been friends since the beginning of high school, but we didn’t become close till I made the jv team junior year.”

“Nah, I meant how long you two been fucking each other?”

I almost dropped my drink.

I was too stunned by the question to form a quick enough response to be convincing. “Huh? No- no, Mr. Giovanni it ain’t like that-”

“Don’t ‘no Mr.