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meeting someone
13 November 2020 03:35August 23, 2059
His first full day at the beach had been quiet, uneventful, what he'd wanted. The second day he started feeling a deeper relaxation -- nobody needs him here, nobody telling him what to do.
Something he'd never done before was build a fire at the beach. He knew that's something people did after dark on cool nights, he wanted to do this also. He spent time querying the Internet, figuring out how his apps could help. He'd have to search for dry driftwood and kindling, find a lighter inside the beach house -- yeah, why not, this would be his goal for the day. Use some of the paper he brought to help start the fire.
He's also been doing light cooking for himself, making sandwiches and small meals on the stove, stuff like scrambled eggs for breakfast. It's easy enough having groceries delivered. He starts to imagine -- what if he made his fortune and then retired to a beach house by himself. With his dog. And he could have visitors from time to time. Well, by then Ma would be long out of prison. Maybe buy a duplex, let her live in one half, he lives in the other. They could both have dogs, take them on walks together.
Also jerking off, pleasuring himself. Yeah, this vacation was the right idea.
-----
Starting fires ... not more complicated than he thought, but taking some patience and do-overs to really get it going.
He's not sure he's got it going yet when he hears somebody clearing their throat from a polite distance. Yeah, there's been other people on the beach, but it hasn't been crowded, mainly people walking past him at a distance from time to time. Nobody had stopped to talk with him yet.
"Do you mind if I join you for a spell," asked a surprisingly familiar voice. No, was it really him?
"Marco?" Tate asked?
"Well, yes, that's me, although I'm wearing some clothes now, and I've had dinner, and I have all my memories. Good evening, Tate, how are you?"
Tate jumped up from tending the not-quite-a-fire-yet, and stumbled over his words, "I'm, here, fine, OK, wasn't expecting, eek!" It was easy to feel adult-like when he didn't need to interact with other people, now he felt like a stupid kid wasting everybody's time.
"I'm sorry, I tried calling ahead but you turned off your phone. But I wanted to see you again. If you're willing, of course." Marco's voice sounded a little different, still recognizable, but perhaps the weight of one's memories could be heard in their voice.
Tate wanted to say, "How did you find me," but surely Marco either asked Chris or used his own skills to track him down. It's not like he was trying to evade the trackers and hackers, not like a spy on a mission. And he'd met Marco before that crazy week, they weren't total strangers.
At least without implants, Tate didn't have to worry about Marco trying to hack him. Another complication he was ready to avoid by staying blind.
Tate had been silent for longer than is polite, so Marco was about to apologize and withdraw, but then Tate said, "Would you please join me here by the fire? Well, it's not much of a fire, I've never started one before."
"Sure," Marco said; Tate could hear him approach and then sit down on the other side of the fire. "It's been a long time since I started a fire, I think you're doing OK, it can just take a while to get going."
"Well, I'm trying to use the helper apps to describe what's happening, but I don't know the correct parameters ... well, if it doesn't work tonight I can try again tomorrow."
Marco decided ... not to offer to help ... it seemed like a personal Tate project, or maybe even a sort of therapy. Fire therapy. Marco had heard of music therapy some time ago, when his sister was recovering from a bad accident and was receiving physical therapy, occupational therapy, and also music therapy. She'd taken a poem he'd written about her, wrote music for it, and sang it.
So this is a slow conversation already, on the beach, after dark.
After fiddling with the fire a bit, Tate asked, "How is your recovery going? I don't know whether I should apologize or not for my role in what happened to you. It feels complicated." Tate struggled with how to speak with Marco now.
Marco replied easily, "It's going OK. No apologies needed, you were the best part of that week. I remember all of it. I must confess quite the crush on you, but if that bothers you -- I'm only here with your consent. Tell me to go, I'll go."
Tate breathed out, didn't realize he'd been sort of holding his breath, was feeling tense. But his cock jumped at the emotional confession from Marco.
"I feel confused about all that. I liked you, but it was also role playing, and you were not yourself. So who did I actually like? Who are you now? And I have a lot going on in my own life. Ugh." Tate wanted to rewind this entire encounter.
Marco tried to sound soothing, "It's OK, I know, it's complicated. But I wanted to be honest in saying that I have a crush on you. It's not an obligation. Just a statement. And it's not even the main reason why I'm here."
"Oh," an almost-disappointed sound. "Yeah, reasons. You should have come here to sit on the beach, that's why I'm here," although Tate smiled at this swerve into assertiveness.
Marco laughed, "OK, then that's why I'm here, to sit on the beach. I will not speak of my reasons."
Tate laughed also then.
-----
Much later, after the fire had swelled and then faded, and Marco's arms were wrapped around Tate from behind, Tate asked, "OK, what's the main reason you're here?"
"Yeah. Well, I unexpectedly have a child now. I'm looking for help raising him. Chris told me you're not working for him anymore, I was wondering whether you'd want to help me raise a child."
Tate hadn't been expecting this! "Wow, did you forget your sterility pill or something?" There's no way a billionaire has an accidental child!
"No, that would've been much simpler. I don't know whether you knew that one of my clones was helping you on that mission. He's decided to undergo a complete brain wipe, so he can develop into his own person. Although adult clones can 'grow up' much faster than babies can, because their brains and bodies are already fully developed, it still usually takes two to three years for them learn to take care of themselves and, then, start career training."
Tate was trying to think through this ... "Wow, on purpose? Wow."
"I remembered how well you've taken care of me, both as a visitor and during that week, and in a real way this would be taking care of me -- a different version of me. And you'd seemed willing to do it if I'd been the one undergoing the wipe, although maybe that was just role playing, part of the bullshit that week."
Tate didn't like the reference to 'bullshit', "Hey, don't call it that."
"OK, I'm sorry. You're not a bullshitter. I know that."
Tate was quiet for a bit. Then he said, "If I agree to do this, I'm going to have somebody negotiate a contract with you, we aren't working this out here and now."
"Of course. And please take your time to think about it."
Tate did think about it for a few minutes here and now. As he passively felt Marco's warm body. Then he said, "I'll let you know. Now come back to the house with me, fuck me, and then go home." He turned to kiss Marco on the lips before he could reply.
-----
After Marco left, a satisfied Tate texted Chris, "Please have somebody negotiate a full-time child-care contract for me with Marco, but that doesn't mean I'm saying 'yes'. Have them send Marco a bill for 'negotiation costs'. And don't bug me about it until I get back. Love, Tate"
Telling adults what to do is fun.
His first full day at the beach had been quiet, uneventful, what he'd wanted. The second day he started feeling a deeper relaxation -- nobody needs him here, nobody telling him what to do.
Something he'd never done before was build a fire at the beach. He knew that's something people did after dark on cool nights, he wanted to do this also. He spent time querying the Internet, figuring out how his apps could help. He'd have to search for dry driftwood and kindling, find a lighter inside the beach house -- yeah, why not, this would be his goal for the day. Use some of the paper he brought to help start the fire.
He's also been doing light cooking for himself, making sandwiches and small meals on the stove, stuff like scrambled eggs for breakfast. It's easy enough having groceries delivered. He starts to imagine -- what if he made his fortune and then retired to a beach house by himself. With his dog. And he could have visitors from time to time. Well, by then Ma would be long out of prison. Maybe buy a duplex, let her live in one half, he lives in the other. They could both have dogs, take them on walks together.
Also jerking off, pleasuring himself. Yeah, this vacation was the right idea.
-----
Starting fires ... not more complicated than he thought, but taking some patience and do-overs to really get it going.
He's not sure he's got it going yet when he hears somebody clearing their throat from a polite distance. Yeah, there's been other people on the beach, but it hasn't been crowded, mainly people walking past him at a distance from time to time. Nobody had stopped to talk with him yet.
"Do you mind if I join you for a spell," asked a surprisingly familiar voice. No, was it really him?
"Marco?" Tate asked?
"Well, yes, that's me, although I'm wearing some clothes now, and I've had dinner, and I have all my memories. Good evening, Tate, how are you?"
Tate jumped up from tending the not-quite-a-fire-yet, and stumbled over his words, "I'm, here, fine, OK, wasn't expecting, eek!" It was easy to feel adult-like when he didn't need to interact with other people, now he felt like a stupid kid wasting everybody's time.
"I'm sorry, I tried calling ahead but you turned off your phone. But I wanted to see you again. If you're willing, of course." Marco's voice sounded a little different, still recognizable, but perhaps the weight of one's memories could be heard in their voice.
Tate wanted to say, "How did you find me," but surely Marco either asked Chris or used his own skills to track him down. It's not like he was trying to evade the trackers and hackers, not like a spy on a mission. And he'd met Marco before that crazy week, they weren't total strangers.
At least without implants, Tate didn't have to worry about Marco trying to hack him. Another complication he was ready to avoid by staying blind.
Tate had been silent for longer than is polite, so Marco was about to apologize and withdraw, but then Tate said, "Would you please join me here by the fire? Well, it's not much of a fire, I've never started one before."
"Sure," Marco said; Tate could hear him approach and then sit down on the other side of the fire. "It's been a long time since I started a fire, I think you're doing OK, it can just take a while to get going."
"Well, I'm trying to use the helper apps to describe what's happening, but I don't know the correct parameters ... well, if it doesn't work tonight I can try again tomorrow."
Marco decided ... not to offer to help ... it seemed like a personal Tate project, or maybe even a sort of therapy. Fire therapy. Marco had heard of music therapy some time ago, when his sister was recovering from a bad accident and was receiving physical therapy, occupational therapy, and also music therapy. She'd taken a poem he'd written about her, wrote music for it, and sang it.
So this is a slow conversation already, on the beach, after dark.
After fiddling with the fire a bit, Tate asked, "How is your recovery going? I don't know whether I should apologize or not for my role in what happened to you. It feels complicated." Tate struggled with how to speak with Marco now.
Marco replied easily, "It's going OK. No apologies needed, you were the best part of that week. I remember all of it. I must confess quite the crush on you, but if that bothers you -- I'm only here with your consent. Tell me to go, I'll go."
Tate breathed out, didn't realize he'd been sort of holding his breath, was feeling tense. But his cock jumped at the emotional confession from Marco.
"I feel confused about all that. I liked you, but it was also role playing, and you were not yourself. So who did I actually like? Who are you now? And I have a lot going on in my own life. Ugh." Tate wanted to rewind this entire encounter.
Marco tried to sound soothing, "It's OK, I know, it's complicated. But I wanted to be honest in saying that I have a crush on you. It's not an obligation. Just a statement. And it's not even the main reason why I'm here."
"Oh," an almost-disappointed sound. "Yeah, reasons. You should have come here to sit on the beach, that's why I'm here," although Tate smiled at this swerve into assertiveness.
Marco laughed, "OK, then that's why I'm here, to sit on the beach. I will not speak of my reasons."
Tate laughed also then.
-----
Much later, after the fire had swelled and then faded, and Marco's arms were wrapped around Tate from behind, Tate asked, "OK, what's the main reason you're here?"
"Yeah. Well, I unexpectedly have a child now. I'm looking for help raising him. Chris told me you're not working for him anymore, I was wondering whether you'd want to help me raise a child."
Tate hadn't been expecting this! "Wow, did you forget your sterility pill or something?" There's no way a billionaire has an accidental child!
"No, that would've been much simpler. I don't know whether you knew that one of my clones was helping you on that mission. He's decided to undergo a complete brain wipe, so he can develop into his own person. Although adult clones can 'grow up' much faster than babies can, because their brains and bodies are already fully developed, it still usually takes two to three years for them learn to take care of themselves and, then, start career training."
Tate was trying to think through this ... "Wow, on purpose? Wow."
"I remembered how well you've taken care of me, both as a visitor and during that week, and in a real way this would be taking care of me -- a different version of me. And you'd seemed willing to do it if I'd been the one undergoing the wipe, although maybe that was just role playing, part of the bullshit that week."
Tate didn't like the reference to 'bullshit', "Hey, don't call it that."
"OK, I'm sorry. You're not a bullshitter. I know that."
Tate was quiet for a bit. Then he said, "If I agree to do this, I'm going to have somebody negotiate a contract with you, we aren't working this out here and now."
"Of course. And please take your time to think about it."
Tate did think about it for a few minutes here and now. As he passively felt Marco's warm body. Then he said, "I'll let you know. Now come back to the house with me, fuck me, and then go home." He turned to kiss Marco on the lips before he could reply.
-----
After Marco left, a satisfied Tate texted Chris, "Please have somebody negotiate a full-time child-care contract for me with Marco, but that doesn't mean I'm saying 'yes'. Have them send Marco a bill for 'negotiation costs'. And don't bug me about it until I get back. Love, Tate"
Telling adults what to do is fun.