The Good Neighbors Ch. 04

Tommy stepped out of the house with his only dress shirt buttoned up to the throat and a black tie strangling off the last of his air. His father had tied it for him when the online tutorials had failed. He was already sweating by the time he cleared the lawn and rang the Hastings' bell, despite the crisp, cool night. There were already over a half dozen extra cars parked along the street, and another one was pulling up as Tommy waited on the front porch.

"Thomas, hello!" Mrs. Hastings called as she swung open the door and pulled him inside. He had braced himself for debauchery, but it was all quite wholesome and ordinary inside. The guests ranged from their forties to their sixties, all dressed in button-ups and evenings dresses. Light jazz played and the lights of the house were bright as guests mingled and sipped their drinks.

Mrs. Hastings kept hold of his upper arm as she lead him back to the kitchen, where two girls his age were dressed identically. They were both mixing and serving drinks with efficient, mechanical speed. They paused only long enough to nod in his direction, and then they went back to it.

"I'll need you to pass out the trays, and maybe help fill them a little bit," Mrs. Hastings said. Another young woman popped out from the hallway and resumed slicing up a board of charcuterie. "Samantha, this is our new recruit, Tommy. He's going to help you with anything you need."

The girl gave him a grin and a curt nod, then went back to her work. Mrs. Hastings was gone from his arm a moment later.

"How can I help?" Tommy asked.

"This tray's ready in two. Grab those crackers for me? And those napkins?"

Tommy did as he was told and he watched her work. "Come back when the tray's empty or in ten minutes, whichever comes first," she told him as he headed off into the crowd.

"Ah, the cheese!" a bald man with a gray goatee announced, the moment Tommy's foot hit carpet. A pack of older couples descended on him quickly, emptying a third of the tray in one fell swoop.

"Oh, hello, dear!" one of the woman said, and she stroked Tommy's shoulder as she helped herself to an oat cake. "I haven't seen you around before!"

Tommy grinned, and pivoted to let another guest grab a napkin.

"He's Marty's," the bald man said, grinning.

There were a chorus of "Ooooh's" as Tommy grinned and stepped away to a new group of guests.

Everyone seemed to mostly be contained to the closed patio outside. There was hardly even room for him to step out, and he had to let the other guests shoo people aside and let him in. Mr. Hastings roared in greeting, and rushed over to pat his back and grab a handful of cheddar squares.

"Tommy! You made it! Doesn't he look handsome. It's his first job!" Mr. Hastings announced, pinching him hard on the cheek. Probably harder than he had meant to, but he was clearly well into his drink already. The scent of whiskey wrapped around the man like a blanket.

"Hello," Tommy croaked, nodding to the onlookers.

A small knot of older men, equally red from drink, eyed him darkly, smirking. One of them reached out, and Mr. Hastings smacked his hand away quickly. "He's not for you," he said, waggling a finger.

Tommy nodded a farewell to the group and quickly escaped back into the house. When he reached the kitchen, the girl named Samantha snatched his empty plate and jerked her head toward a new one that was stacked high with stuffed mushrooms. They smelled amazing, and his stomach rumbled, despite his recent dinner.

Back in the living room, the bald man with a goatee had returned, and he threw an arm over Tommy's shoulder. "Melissa tells us you live next door. Is that right?" Tommy nodded as hands began to snatch away at the mushrooms. "She says she used to change your diaper. Isn't that sweet?" he asked the others.

"I'll change his diaper," an older woman in a tight red dress growled, pinching at Tommy's leg. She wasn't wearing a bra, and Tommy found it difficult to break his gaze.

"Maybe you can help babysit instead," Mrs. Hastings said, turning to join the conversation. "Now behave yourselves. It's his first job," she told them. They all "Ooooh'd" again, and Tommy spun away.

Outside on the patio, one of the men was showing Mr. Hastings and the others a video on his phone. Tommy couldn't see the screen, but he hear the grunts and moans. Their eyes flickered up to his face, then quickly down to his crotch.

"He's got a six pack," Mr. Hastings said, and he drained his drink.

"Nah," one of the strangers said, grinning. "Prove it." Mr. Hastings nodded in approval, his eyes never leaving the boy's crotch.

Tommy attempt a chuckle, then slipped back inside. He heard their laughter and groans as he shut the door again, and decided he had made the right call.

Tray after tray went out. The bartenders took turns taking a snack in the kitchen, and they were gone again the moment they stopped inhaling food. Samantha ate as she cooked and laid out the trays. Tommy helped where he could but, other than brisk directions, they had hardly exchanged a word.

"Are they making the drinks too strong?" Samantha asked once, when he returned with his shirt button open and his hair tussled.

"Maybe," Tommy admitted. "Everyone seemed pretty drunk by the first tray."

The girl cursed. "Tell them to ease up, or everyone's going to be asleep or puking by ten." Tommy nodded and whispered the message to each of the girls at the bar.

After an hour, some of the lights had dimmed and the music was louder. More guests had arrived and now even the living room was nearly full. And the guests were rowdier. Once, when he passed by the main hallway, he saw a crowd around the bathroom giggling and listening closely at the door. "They're fucking!" someone shouted, nodding to the bathroom. Tommy raised his eyebrows and moved along faster.

He had avoided the men outside on the last pass, but now they had stripped and hopped into the pool, and so were thankfully no longer his problem.

"Last tray," Samantha said as he returned. She passed him a plate that was towered high with finger sandwiches. Tommy nodded and headed off again before he registered what she had said. Mrs. Hastings had said the party was going to be eight to eleven, and now it was barely nine-thirty. They hardly needed four bartenders for the night. Maybe he'd be going home early.

By the final round, the guests were properly hammered. The party-goers all leaned hard against each other now as they clambered for food. Cheeks burned red, and they openly leered at him, smiling widely. One of the men had even lost his shirt. Outside it was even worse, as people drank liquor straight from the patio bar supplies, and stripped to jump in the pool. And those that came back onto dry land didn't seem eager to get back into their dress clothes.

The last tray took longer to empty out than any of the others. People flirted and asked him questions, but they hardly seemed to see the food. When the last two sandwiches went determinedly unclaimed, he stuffed them into his mouth while no one was looking and headed back inside.

Things had changed in there.

The bartender girls were each leaning against the makeshift bar inside, their shirts gone, their small breasts heaving as two men rammed into them from behind. Their eyes were closed, and there was a blush high on their faces as they panted and moaned with every thrust. A crowd was surrounding them, men and women alike, cheering and slapping the men on their shoulders. There was another crowd in the corner. Samantha was laid back in the armchair, her skirt pulled high and a woman, Mrs. Hastings he realized, had buried her face between the girl's pale legs. The crowd around them was hooting and cheering in ecstasy.

Tommy felt his hands beginning to shake. He made his way around the edge of the chaos, wide-eyed and breathless. He snuck around the living room bar and went back to the kitchen, which was thankfully still empty. He set his tray into the sink and turned on the water, unsure of what else to do.

"There you are," someone called out, causing Tommy to jump. The man with the goatee was back, and he had a small posse behind him. The man closed in quickly and ran his hand down Tommy's back, causing the boy to yelp and twist away.

"You don't need to do those now," one of the other man said, glancing at the sink. He was in his fifties, also balding, but with brown hair and a wide body.

"You really have a six pack?" another asked. Tommy blushed and shook his head no, drying his hands to buy time. "Ah, I don't believe you now. I think we need to see it! Why don't you show us?"

"I don't know," Tommy mumbled. They didn't seem to hear him.

"Are you shy?" they asked. Tommy blushed harder. "I think he's shy," they told the crowd. Tommy could hear the people in the living room cheering louder. Everything suddenly seemed much too loud, and the room felt much too crowded.

"How about I help you take it off?" one of the men offered. Tommy shook his head, twisting away again. "I think he's playing hard to get," he told the others, as his fingers snatched at Tommy's buttons again.

"Nope!" Tommy shouted through the noise, and twisted away again. He rushed forward and awkwardly slipped past the group that had cornered him. His eyes found the door to the back porch. Mr. Hastings was there, just outside the glass, fully nude. They locked eyes and Tommy spun to bolt in the other direction, toward the front door.

He wove his way quickly through the crowd, circling around the edges to push through where he could. He was three steps from the door when a hand snatched his wrist and jerked him to a stop. He spun, his hands already trying to work the person's fingers off of him, when he saw it was only Mrs. Hastings. Her face was the picture of concern and worry, and he stopped cold

"Are you okay?" she shouted into his ear. She wiped her mouth with the crook of her elbow.

He nodded quickly. "I have to go," he said, and tried to pull his arm away. She didn't let go.

He saw her mouth another question, but he couldn't hear her over the crowd. She cast a furious glare at the others, then tugged Tommy by the arm and nodded toward the hall. After a moment, he nodded and let her lead him away, further into the house.

The guest room they had been in before was closed, but the master bedroom's door was open. They rushed inside and she slammed the door shut. The sound died out instantly. To his relief, she flicked the lock before sitting down on the bed, and then patted the mattress for him to join her.

"Please tell me what you're feeling," Mrs. Hastings said.

Tommy looked into her wide, worried eyes and waited to catch his breath again. "It's just... all a bit too much for me."

Mrs. Hastings nodded. "I understand. And I'm sorry about that."

"I liked it when it was just... you and me."

She nodded again. "I liked that best, too," she said, smiling.

"I don't want there to be all these people," he went on.

"Ignore them. The door is locked and I won't let them in for anything. It's just you and me. Is this better?"

Tommy nodded. He could feel his heart rate beginning to slow back down to a more management pace.

"I think I've embarrassed myself," he said, after a few minutes.

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Hastings said. She waved a dismissive hand toward the door, "They're all too drunk to remember any of this anyhow. And you never need to see any one of them ever again. I swear it."

Tommy grinned. "Thank you, Mrs. Hastings."

"We will just wait them out for a bit and, when most of them have left or fallen asleep, I'll make sure the way is clear and you'll be right home. Deal?"

Tommy nodded, and Mrs. Hastings kicked her feet on the bed. She found a pillow, pulled it closer, and turned on the TV. "I do wish I had brought a snack, though."

Tommy smiled wider and went to join her. It was a talk show on. He lost interest quickly and, apparently, so did she. She flickered around for a bit, not landing on anything.

"I do wish you could have seen my outfit, though. I was thinking of you when I bought it."

Tommy's eyebrows went up. "Really? Something other than this?" he said, nodding to the tight dress she had on. She really did look beautiful in it, he thought. It showed off the curves of her perfectly.

"I was just about to change into it, too, when I saw you heading for the door," Mrs. Hastings said.

His breath went ragged again, and he felt a stirring inside his dress pants. She continued to flip through the channels, apparently none-the-wiser.

"What did it look like?" he asked.

Her lips spread wide, revealing pearly white teeth. She didn't turn for a moment, and then her eyes flickered suddenly over to his.

"Do you wanna see it?"

Tommy nodded quickly.