Ant Pt. 01

After some consideration of the comments I received for The Boy, I decided to rewrite the story in third person (so I can change perspectives), and take my time telling the story, changing a few things as well. This will probably be a long one, but I will try to write the next chapters as quickly as my two fingered typing will allow me. I hope you enjoy the reimagined story.

*

Callum O'Donnell, Cal to those who knew him, walked shirtless into the gray mist of morning and shivered against the chill in the air. He considered putting on a shirt, but it wouldn't take long for him to put out the trash, so he crossed the yard in his slippers and sweatpants.

For a man of forty-seven, he was in excellent shape. His body was hard with muscle and well-toned beneath the even coat of black hair that covered his chest and wash board stomach from working out on a near daily basis. He managed to keep his waist slim, despite his penchant for junk food. His late partner, Mathew, insisted that Cal eat a balanced diet, but since his death three years prior, Cal ate whatever he wanted, which was the diet he subsisted on when in college. The only salad he ate came on his hamburgers.

Life after Mathew's death was hard on Cal, in ways he never could have imagined. He withdrew from all but the most stubborn of his friends, stopped socializing, and didn't give dating any consideration. He had already met his perfect mate, the only man who could believably tell him no. Sexually, Cal's ass belonged to Mathew's skillful love making, and he just couldn't imagine another man would be able to fill Mathew's side of the bed. In short, he had given up on finding love, now that his love was gone from this world.

In the alley, Cal opened the lid of his trash can and dropped the bag inside. Catching movement out the corner of his eye, he looked down the alley and saw the image of someone rooting through the contents of one of his neighbor's cans. He recognized the person in question as a homeless teen he had seen in the alley on subsequent mornings. Same blue hoodie, different trash can.

The boy was a blonde, he remembered, but he hadn't managed to get a good look at the kid's face. The tell-tale sign that the boy was just a kid was the perfect bubble butt that was only found on teenaged boys, rising high from a slim waist. Today, however, that perfect butt that Cal was so envious of was barely visible beneath a pair of oversized jeans, cinch to the boy's thin waist with a thick leather belt.

Cal found himself approaching the kid in the blue hoodie before he had made a conscious decision to do so. He was twice the size of the kid, and he was pretty sure he could take him if a fight ensued, but he was nervous nonetheless. What he knew about homeless people he could fit into a thimble. He had this preconceived notion they were all wild, like feral cats. Still, he was intrigued by this kid, curious about his story. He wondered where he slept, how he found food. Maybe he was digging in the trash can looking for something to eat. What kind of human being would he be if he just ignored that?

The kid turned, startled by Cal's approaching footsteps, and Cal stopped dead in his tracks. The face looking back at him had a remarkable resemblance to Mathew's, if Mathew had been a blue eyed blonde. Cal also noted the fading remnants of an ugly bruise marking the kid's left eye. Something about seeing that someone had hit the kid pissed him off at once. He crossed his arms across his chest, against the chill of in the Spring air and to prevent him from pulling the boy into a protective hug.

"What are you doing?" Cal asked, feeling like an idiot as soon as he heard the words tumbling nervously out of his mouth.

"Nothing," the kid answered. The invisible chip on his shoulder was evident in his voice.

"Then why are you rummaging through a garbage can?" Cal smiled, hoping to assure the boy that he wasn't a threat. Given his state of dress, it was obvious Cal was unarmed.

The kid looked at the garbage can, then back at Cal. His face creased with what Cal thought was anger, but it looked more like embarrassment.

"If you're hungry, I was about to fix some breakfast. You're welcome to join me if you want."

The kid looked down the alley way, then allowed his eyes to slide over Cal's body.

"I'm not a threat," Cal said reassuringly, "I just want to help, if I can."

"Okay," the boy answered hesitantly.

Cal turned and started back toward his back gate. He turned only once to see if the boy was following. He was, his hands stuffed so deep in the pockets of his hoodie that the material stretched. The boy caught up with him by the time they arrived at the gate, and Cal ushered him through, placing a hand on his lower back. The two of them crossed the yard together, bypassing the swimming pool and entered the house through sliding glass doors that opened on the dining room. Inside, Cal moved into the white and chrome kitchen with the boy on his tail.

"My names is Cal, by the way," he told the boy, seating him at the breakfast nook before going to pour the boy glasses of orange juice and milk.

"Ant." The boy replied.

"Ant?"

"It's short for Anthony."

"Oh, I see," Cal set the glasses in front of Ant and started pulling bacon, sausage and eggs from the refrigerator. He normally didn't make so much for breakfast, but he had a visitor he was pretty sure was hungrier than any guest he had ever had.

"How do you like your eggs?" Cal asked, placing the bacon on a baking sheet.

"Scrambled is fine." Ant answered, taking a sip of his orange juice, then making a face at the bitterness.

"Is it okay?" Cal asked, concerned the orange juice had gone bad.

"It's fine," Ant promised him, "I'm just not a big fan of orange juice."

"Neither was my boyfriend," Cal laughed. "Personally, I can't get enough of the stuff. It's probably the only healthy thing I consume regularly." He considered what he had offered Ant, then thought better of his choices. "There's coffee in the pot. It might help take the chill out of your bones."

Ant rose and started setting up a cup of coffee, taking the cream Cal handed him, then added enough sugar to put Cal into a diabetic coma. Oh, to be young again, Cal thought to himself.

"Am I right in thinking you're homeless?" Cal asked as he dropped breakfast sausage links into a heated pan.

"Yeah," Ant answered, sitting on a stool at the kitchen's white marble topped island to watch Cal work, "My dad threw me out of the house when I turned eighteen."

"Is that how you got that shiner?"

"No, my ex-boyfriend did that," he shrugged, "He got pissed off when I refused to sell my ass on the strip for him."

"That doesn't sound like a boyfriend," Cal remarked as he beat a bowl of eggs, "It's probably a good think you stuck to your guns."

"Yeah," Ant laughed, "It's not like I can't take a punch. I got beat up all the time in high school."

Cal cringed as the memories of his own high school experience flashed across his mind. He turned to the stove and rotated the sausages, then checked the bacon in the oven.

"So, are you still eighteen? You don't even look that old."

"How old do I look like?"

"You look like jailbait." Cal smiled, "Maybe fifteen, but not a day older."

"How old are you?" Ant asked fishing his wallet from his pocket.

"Oh, I'm old enough to know better, but still young enough to not care."

Ant pushed his driver's license across the island to Cal, who picked it up dubiously. How do I know this isn't a fake ID, Anthony Esposito?" He asked, looking at Ant with comical doubt.

"It's real!" Ant squealed with laughter, "I swear it is."

"Well, I guess I'm just going to trust you," Cal looked at the date of birth and reasoned that Ant was now nineteen. How quickly they grow, he thought to himself. He pushed the ID back to Ant, their fingers brushing.

Cal gave Ant a quick look up and down. He estimated the kid was about 5'8" compared to his own 6'2" frame. He was on the skinny side, but not unreasonably thin, just small boned. His blonde hair was curly, with bangs that fell into his big blue eyes. Cal found him attractive, but quickly decided it was just because there was something about the structure of his face that reminded him so much of Mathew.

"So, you've been homeless a year now?" Cal asked, curious about how a teenaged kid ends up on the streets.

"Yeah."

"Why did your father kick you out?"

"Why do you think? He came home early one day and caught me fucking Jimmy Hawthorne. He managed to keep his cool about the whole thing, but that was the end of my living under his roof. My mother didn't even try to stop him. She just told me to try to find my real father, so I got on a bus and came here."

"So, you're not originally from San Antonio?"

"No, I was raised in Houston, but my biological father is from here."

"And did you find him?"

"Not yet, but I think I'm getting close."

Cal scooped a generous portion of eggs onto a plate and handed it to Ant, motioning for him to help himself to the bacon and sausage while he dropped toast into the toaster. He loaded up his plate, collected the toast and joined Ant back at the breakfast nook.

"So, where is your boyfriend?" Ant asked, taking a big bite of eggs.

"He died three years ago," Cal answered, feeling that familiar lump form in his throat. He pushed it down and took a bit off a sausage.

"Oh, I-" Ant started, then paused, "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I took his death hard. Maybe even harder than I should have. I just can't seem to get on with my life."

"How did he die," Ant asked, placing his hand on mine, "I mean, if you don't mind talking about it."

"Car wreck," I choked out, washing away another lump in my throat with a big swig of my coffee.

Silence accompanied us as we finished our meal. I watched Ant eat and wondered when he had last eaten. I had never seen anyone wolf down food the way he did. It was like watching lions feed on a nature program.

There's more, if you want it," I suggested. A smile was quickly followed by him leaving to load up his plate with more bacon and sausage. Returning, he began inhaling the food like it might be the last meal he might see for a while. My heart broke for him as I wondered what more I could do for him. I couldn't just send him back out to the wolves. I was also enjoying his company and wondered if he would consider staying the night. At least then I would know he got a good night's sleep. He began to form a plan.

"How would you like a hot shower?" Cal asked when Ant finished his second plate of food.

"That would be great!" he exclaimed, "I haven't had a hot shower in forever."

"Good. I could find you something clean to wear for after and wash your clothes as well."

"I guess they are getting a little ripe," And agreed, sniffing his armpit.

"Okay, then, we have a plan. I'll take care of the dishes while you shower."

Cal stood and escorted Ant upstairs to his bedroom, then into the small passageway that connected his room to Mathew's. The bathroom was accessible through the passage way. In the bathroom, Cal turned on the water, adjusting the temperature. Ant had already stripped off his hoodie and the t-shirt beneath and was working on unbuckling his belt when Cal turned from the shower.

For a lingering moment, Cal took in the lean, hairless torso of his guest. The boy's skin was so smooth, so youthful, Cal felt the urge to touch him. He tried to remember what his body looked like at that age and was aware that he had already developed the makings of a man's body. He already had hair on his chest when he was Ant's age, and the makings of a defined chest and well-formed arms. Ant had the body of a much younger boy, the kind of body that had just shed its baby fat, on the verge of developing into a strong, confident young man.

"I'll leave you to your shower," he told the boy, trying not to watch as the oversized jeans fell to the boy's ankles. At least he was wearing underwear, Cal thought to himself. He was aware of his stiffening cock, sure he was on the verge of molesting the kid right there on the spot if he did not leave quickly. There are travel sized toiletries in a basket under the sink that I keep on hand for visitors. Help yourself to them."

After pulling the door closed, he lingered a moment, trying to cool his sudden rush of lust. He hadn't been with a man since Mathew died, he reasoned, so he was beyond horny, but Ant seemed more like a boy to him than a man, and Cal wasn't the sort of man who found twinks particularly attractive. He envied their youth, but that was about it. Cal found strong, virile looking me more to his liking. He was a happy little bottom, only topping when Mathew requested it. Mathew called it his seven month itch. Where Ant was concerned, Cal wanted to scratch an itch he didn't normally want to scratch.

Rushing downstairs, as far away from Ant as he could place himself, he toiled over rinsing the dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher, then returned upstairs to find Ant something to wear. Looking in his closet, he realized his clothes would fit Ant like the oversized jeans he arrived in. He was big boned and heavily muscled, a Neanderthal, Mathew called him. Mathew, on the other hand, was leaner, a work of art in his musculature. Mathew's clothes would be a better fit.

Humming absentmindedly as he worked, Cal became aware of how excited he was about having a houseguest, even though he had yet to convince the kid to stay the night. There was something about Ant's open honestly and easy demeanor that Cal found refreshing. It wasn't what he expected for a homeless youth. He found it easy to talk with Ant, and he wanted more than anything to protect the boy from the big bad world he was sure he would eventually lose him to. Not yet," he told himself under his breath, "Right now I can help him, save him if I can."

Cal walked down the short passageway between the two rooms and entered Mathew's room. While they always shared a bed, the closets in the house were too small to accommodate the clothes and other belongings of both men, so they each chose a room for themselves. Mathew's room was decorated with his fishing equipment and photos of nature he had taken on their travels. Cal's room was a bevy of science fiction collectibles and framed movie posters.

In Mathew's room, Cal opened the closet and began sorting through his late lover's clothes, clothes, Cal intended on throwing out many times over the years, but he just couldn't make himself do it. He had already lost so much of him. He couldn't bear to lose anymore. Now he was considering letting someone else wear them.

"Hello, Daddio?" Ant's voice called out from the bathroom door.

"I'm in here," He called back. He turned and watched as Ant entered the room, dressed only in a towel wrapped around his waist. He seemed a little older, but still quite young, with his hair neatly combed, the peach fuzz freshly shaven from his face. The boy no longer looked like the homeless wraith he found in the alley. "This was Mathew's room. I thought his clothes might fit you better than mine would. Mathew was taller than you, but he had a slimmer build than I have." He looked at the closet full of hanging clothes. "I meant to get rid of all of this a long time ago, but never got around to it. Guess it's a good thing I didn't."

"There are socks and boxer shorts in here," he continued, suddenly feeling very nervous as he approached the chest of drawers. He opened one of the drawers and found a cigar box that Mathew had pasted small photos of nude men he cut from old porn magazines. "I had forgotten about this."

"Whoa, cool!" Ant exclaimed, giving the cigar box a good look over, examining how Mathew had carefully cut out the bodies of the nude men, then arranged them in a mosaic of lust. "It must have taken forever to put this together."

"It was his masterpiece," Cal laughed, delighted with Ant's reaction, "He wasn't a very artistically motivated man, but he swore this was a work of art."

"So is that guy," Ant said, pointing to one of the nude models, "Look at the size of that dick."

"Anyway, you can help yourself to anything you want to wear."

"Wouldn't you rather lay out my clothes and dress me the way you want?" Ant asked, dropping his towel as he walked toward the closet.

Cal's mouth dropped open as he caught sight of Ant's smooth, round ass. His imagination of what the boy's bubble butt might look like didn't compare to what he was looking at. It wasn't as large as he thought it was. It was actually a cute little muscular butt that seemed large compared to the boy's tight little waist. He sank down to sit on the edge of the bed to try to disguise his quickly growing erection.

Ant turned toward him, revealing an average looking cock and a tight set of balls topped with a thin bush of dark brown pubes. Cal wondered how big the boy's erection was, then tried to shake his lustful thoughts. You can't do this, he told himself, He's just a kid. Snapping out of his mental review of Ant's body, he looked up at the boy's smiling face.

"Like what you see, Daddy?" His voice seemed a little huskier than it had been before. Cal's cock jumped in his sweat pants. "God knows I like what I've been looking at all morning."

Ant approached him and sat next to him on the bed, his own cock started to lengthen and thicken as he sat next to him quietly. Ant placed a hand on Cal's thigh, the fingers of his delicate hand brushing Cal's erection. Looking into the boy's eyes, he swallowed hard, then leaned in to kiss him, working entirely on instinct.

The kiss began gently, timid, no more than a brush of lips. Ant placed his hand on Cal's hard, chest and snaked his thin fingers through the thick forest of hair, up to Cal's neck and face. Cal crushed his lips against Ant's losing himself in his lust, untapped for so long. He opened his mouth and Ant responded silently, welcoming Cal's tongue with a soft brush of his own.

Cal pulled back and looked into Ant's big blue eyes. He touched the fading bruise around the boy's left eye and knew he would do anything for him. He pulled away and tossed the boy's slim body onto the middle of the bed, then wrestled out of the sweatpants that now seemed so confining. Ant's eyes widened at the sight of Cal's thick eight-inch erection and smiled lasciviously up at him. Cal smiled at the sight of Ant's seven inch hard-on.

Crawling across the mattress, he lay next to Ant's naked body, examining it, touching the soft, smooth flesh with his fingertips before diving back into another deep, passionate kiss. Ant ran his hand across Cal's hairy chest, his nimble fingers brushing against Cal's nipples, causing them to stand with excitement. Breaking from their kiss, Ant turned on the bed, taking Cal's cock into his mouth while presenting his firm young ass to Cal.

Cal sighed heavily at the feeling of Ant's warm, wet mouth applying pressure to the top of his cock. The feeling of having his hard cock buried half into another man's mouth was a pleasure he had nearly forgotten, and Ant seemed to know what he was doing for someone so young. Still, there was room for improving his skills. Cal smiled at the thought of teaching Ant how to suck dick with better precision.

"Do you like it, Daddy?" Ant asked, releasing Cal's cock from his lips to pump it in his small hand.

Cal wasn't sure about being called Daddy. He had never thought about himself as the daddy type, but quickly realized the difference in their ages made it make sense. He decided to go with it, not wanting to stop what was happening because he didn't want to admit to himself that he was getting older. Maybe a father/son relationship was something he needed at this time of his life, and Ant would be the perfect choice to play the part of his son.