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Fathers and Sons

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Book: Fathers and Sons

A phone ringing brought Stan Charles Richfield out of a deep slumber. He stirred in the bed and opened his eyes. Hazy sunlight filtered into the room. As Stan’s brain shook off the webs of sleep, he realized he was in a hotel room.

He stretched to the nightstand and picked up the phone. An automated voice told him, ‘This is your scheduled wakeup call…’ Stan groaned and hung up. He rubbed his forehead tiredly and heard a moan from the second queen bed next to his.

Stan peered over at Joe Scarbino, the Dangereux Cologne model he was rooming with.

Joe’s cell-phone alarm went off as Joe sat up and yawned.

Stan took a moment to gather his thoughts. He was on tour with Dangereux at the moment, and in Chicago.

Joe staggered out of bed. He was naked, and didn’t look as if he was ready for morning. The handsome LAPD SWAT cop entered the bathroom and shut the door.

Stan sat up against the headboard and picked up his phone. He had missed several text messages.

Last night, after dinner with the three other male models traveling with them, as well as TJ Brown and his assistant Elliot from the cologne company, he and Joe had gotten very drunk.

He was paying the price now.

They had a half hour before they had to meet the group in the hotel restaurant for breakfast. Stan heard the shower running in the bathroom. As he waited for his turn, Stan read a text from his new husband, The Nation’s Top Male Model, Mark Antonious Richfield. Mark had sent, ‘How are you?’

Stan realized it had been sent to him late last night, since there was a three hour time difference between Chicago and Sacramento.

Even though he knew Mark would be asleep, Stan sent back, ‘Missing you and Isaac.’ Stan thought about being away from his son again. Isaac was five months old now, and Stan hated being away from both of them.

Next weekend was Father’s Day, and his parents were flying out from New York to spend the weekend with them in Paradise, California at his and Mark’s estate.

The water flow in the shower stopped and Stan glanced at the bathroom door.

He and Joe had indeed gotten very intoxicated last night. After they returned to the room, they ended up admiring photos of Mark from the internet.

He and Joe were both in their twenties, and had lusted over Mark’s advertising work for a decade. Stan was finding out Officer Scarbino had a mad crush on Mark, similar to how Stan felt before he was lucky enough to meet the top model.

Stan had been employed as a limousine driver in Los Angeles before he met Mark. He took Mark to the airport for a tour like the one he was on right now, for Dangereux Cologne.

He became a limousine driver in LA was for that exact reason. Meeting celebrities.

But meeting his crush? That was unbelievable luck.

Marrying his crush? Truly astounding.

He and Joe had jerked off to Mark’s videos and photos last night while lying side by side on the bed.

Stan had to admit he needed that. Needed that affirmation, needed to be reminded that he was indeed a very lucky young man to have Mark as his husband and the father of his son. He was glad they had done it.

The bathroom door opened, the fan inside it running, Joe emerged, naked, and dressed in the leather pants they were going to be wearing for the promotion.

Stan climbed out of the bed and took his turn in the bathroom. It was steamy and damp inside it, and towels were on the floor.

Stan loaded his toothbrush with paste and entered the shower stall, brushing his teeth as he wetted down, thinking of how much he really missed Mark and Isaac and counting the days down until he was with them again.


Mark Antonious Richfield lay awake in bed. It was four a.m. and he had a lousy night’s rest.

Mark glanced over at the man sleeping beside him in bed. He didn’t want to wake him, and hoped his tossing and turning hadn’t bothered him. Then, a small noise came through the baby-monitor.

Blake Hughes, an LAPD firefighter and one of Mark’s best friends, woke from the sound.

Mark patted him softly. “I’ve got it.”

Mark climbed out of bed, wearing just briefs, and walked across the hallway to the nursery. His son was crying from his crib. Mark picked him up to hush him, rocking him gently, and then checked his diaper. He placed Isaac on the changing table and exchanged his wet diaper for a clean one, then carried his son to his own bedroom and lay him down on it. He crawled into bed beside Zak and rubbed Zak’s belly, trying to get him to go back to sleep for a few hours.

As Mark gazed into the dark bedroom, one he and his young husband Stan Charles shared, Mark missed his man. Missed him a lot. He had a feeling Isaac was missing his daddy as well.

As he managed to get his son back to sleep, Mark wasn’t as lucky. His brain had switched on, as it did most nights, and he suffered miserable insomnia.

Staring at the dim light coming from the eastern sky, slowly lighting up the interior of the bedroom, Mark knew today he was obligated to go to Sacramento to the offices of Richfield-Miller International.

He wasn’t happy about it. Not happy to go to work while his son needed him. While his husband was away. While his home was full of family and friends.

Isaac made a soulful noise in his sleep.

Mark drew closer, comforting him. “All right. Daddy’s here.”