(Mark's POV - Sat. 25 October 2014)

It's 8am when I wake up to the sound of my alarm, and I hastily reach for my phone before it awakes Shannon. Pointless. The space beside me is empty and cold. Shannon never wakes up before me – well, except yesterday for my birthday. After a quick stop by the restroom, I put on a pair of sweatpants and head to the kitchen where I find him seated on a stool at the counter, only wearing boxer briefs and nearly dozing off above a mug of coffee. I walk to stand behind him and tenderly wrap my arms around his waist, then drop a light kiss on the top of his head.

"Good morning, beautiful," I whisper softly. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Morning. I was awake, so I just got up," he replies sleepily.

"Are you okay?" I ask as I start kissing his neck.

"Yeah, fine... And you?"

"I'm good... Are you not too sore?"

Last night, our love was really sweet and gentle, so he shouldn't be, but I can't help asking. There are always solutions for a sore butthole, even if most of them include patience and time.

"No," he chuckles. "My ass is just fine, and ready for tonight."

He makes his stool swivel to face me, and I'm glad to see him smile with that glint of mischief in his eyes I have come to love. I much prefer this mood! Especially as I expect us to spend a nice and hot evening at the Black Diamond tonight.

"You're ready for an intense scene in our private room?" I ask huskily.

Shan's smile widens and he wraps his arms around my neck to pull me down for a kiss.

"I'm always ready for an intense scene, Master," he whispers against my lips. "And I'd like to try the swing..."

"Sounds good, Babe..." I reply, feeling my cock swell at the thought of having him tied up in the swing and pounding hard into his cute little ass.

"By the way... Liam texted me to ask if I could convince you to let me go to the Black Moon for a bit before we join you all at the Diamond?" he then asks innocently, making me frown.

"Why don't you guys go to the Diamond directly? You can enjoy the dancefloor there..."

"Yeah but we'd like to go to the Black Moon for a change. It's actually Ed who suggested this, and there'll be Mick and the twins too," he pleads, giving me the puppy dog face.

Great... I can imagine the whole gang at the Black Moon. They're sure to catch the attention of other people, and I'm not sure I like this too much.

Come on, Mark! Let them have their fun! Nothing can happen there!

"Alright. But you know you'll have to wear shirts there. And I'd rather you guys stay on the side that leads to the Black Diamond, understood?"

"Why?"

"Because in addition to the video surveillance, Josh and I can ask the bouncer to keep an eye on you," I reply honestly.

"Jeez!! You're so overprotective!! Be careful, you'll soon get worse than Joshua!!" he huffs playfully.

"I'm just taking care of the things I love the most, and you're definitely on top of this list, Babe..." I confess, pecking his lips. "And I doubt I can get worse than Josh. He's the pinnacle of overprotection."

Shannon rolls his eyes, but he knows I'm right. I'm not anywhere close to my friend's level of controlling, and I'm pretty sure Liam must have given him quite a few examples.

I go get myself a cup of coffee and pour another one for Shannon with sugar as he likes it. Breakfast follows in a comfortable silence, at least in the beginning as far as I'm concerned, but I soon deem Shannon a bit too quiet for my taste. This is not in his habits and I usually have to shut him up when he blabbers on too much. He hasn't uttered a word and the little crease between his eyebrows tells me that he's caught up in worrisome issues.

"Shan? Is anything wrong?"

"No, why do you ask?" he replies, frowning deeply.

"Your mind seems to be somewhere else, this morning."

He stiffens briefly but pulls himself together within a second, a wide smile cracking on his face. I still noticed the tension, though.

"No, I'm just not really awake. I guess I haven't had enough sleep last night, so I might go back to bed while you're away," he answers, wrinkling his cute little nose and poking his tongue out.

"Seems like a plan..." I comment, not a hundred percent convinced by this argument. "Make sure you get some rest, or I might cancel our plans for tonight if you're exhausted, Babe."

"Please don't! I'm just a bit tired, and I'll be fine once I've gotten another couple of hours of sleep!"

"Okay, fine. I'll go get ready then..." I say as I hop off my stool.

Damn! I should have set my alarm earlier. I rarely sleep that much and now I won't be able to go for a run before I have that interview with Sanchez! Too bad, because it would have helped me to clear my thoughts and to chill!

By the time I have showered and dressed, Shannon is already back to sleep in our bed, lying on his back and the comforter only covering the lower half of his body. His lips are puckered up and this is so adorable that I can't resist pecking them lightly before I leave.

The ride to Le Marais is quick – yeah for the light traffic on Saturday mornings! – and doesn't allow me to dwell on Shannon's earlier mood. I hope it was just the lack of sleep, but I will see when I get back home and deal with this if nothing has changed. Instead, I focus on what I have to do this morning and strive not to let the anger fuel my veins as I think about what happened yesterday evening. I had never been so pissed at an employee of mine before.

Once in my office, I clear up a bit of administrative work then retrieve the chef's personal file from its suspension folder. I have barely opened it when Matt shows up, carrying two cups of steaming coffee, and sits across from me at my desk.

"Thanks for the coffee, Matt!"

"You're welcome," he says in a strained voice. "I'm so sorry I couldn't prevent last night's events. I wish I had been able to catch that bastard before."

"I didn't see anything either," I reply in an attempt to comfort him because I know he tried his best.

"Yeah, but you don't spend as much time here as I do," he argues. "Fuck! every time I visited the kitchen unannounced, everything looked quite okay. Alex has been a bit tense over the past few weeks, and I did ask him if all was okay, but he never complained... I just thought he might have private issues. And whenever I asked the other members of the staff, they never mentioned any problem."

"Matt, don't get yourself worked up, I know you've done your best. Anyway, have you been able to speak with the guys in the kitchen after Sanchez had left?"

"Yeah, and tongues untied. You were right by the way. Since they know you witnessed the scene and saw how angry you were, the pressure fell and it was easier to make them talk," Matt replies with more animation.

"Good. So, what did they say?"

"Actually, I didn't even have to ask. After I notified Sanchez and showed him out, I came back to the kitchen, and one of the cook helpers came to me and asked if the chef was going to get fired. I asked her if that would relieve her, and she shyly nodded. Another joined the conversation and said that most of the time, Sanchez is quite decent, but he has his moods and for the past few weeks, he's put a lot of pressure on them. Another washer came in at that moment and he told me that he'd never witnessed anything but that he often saw Alex with teary eyes after Sanchez would have summoned him in private. He said he had his doubts and often tried to convince Alex to go and speak with me, but it seems like the boy was just too scared."

"It sucks. And nobody ever witnessed anything?"

"Honestly, I think they did, but they just didn't want to go into many details. One said he once heard Sanchez insult Alex, but there was never anything that involved physical violence if that's what you mean."

"I'd hope so, or I'll make sure Alex presses charges against Sanchez!" I reply, taking a sip from my coffee but I stand up and return to the filing cabinet. "What's Alex's last name?"

"Simmons."

Matt and I actually share this office since he manages the restaurant, so he knows all the staff better than I do.

"Alexander Simmons," I read once I'm back at my desk. "He's 19... doesn't have any specific training in cooking... was hired in May this year... as a cook helper? How come I never saw him in the kitchens then?"

"I have no idea, Mark... Sanchez manages his team on his own, but from what I understood, Alex is more used for other chores. I guess you can ask him when he comes at noon?"

"Yeah, I will," I reply absentmindedly while I continue reading his file. "There's not much in there..."

"No, he provided the minimum information, and he's a very discreet person. I remember meeting him briefly the day Sanchez interviewed him for the job, and he looked extremely shy."

"Have you gotten to know him better now?"

"Nope. Alex is really the solitary guy. He never takes his breaks with the rest of the staff and these are the moments I usually spend with them for public relations. All I know is that he doesn't have any family in Chicago."

A knock echoes on the door at that moment, and after a quick look at my phone, I see that it's almost 10, so it must be Simon Sanchez. Well, at least he's on time. After I have beckoned him in, the chef walks in, wearing a smug expression on his face that I will enjoy crashing.

"Good morning, Mr. Murray. Matt."

"Good morning, Mr. Sanchez. Please have a seat," I say sternly, and the 50-year-old man sits down next to Matt.

"Thank you, Sir. So, you wanted to see me?" he asks in a confident tone.

"Indeed. We need to have a conversation about what happened yesterday evening."

Either the guy is stupid or he has too much self-assurance, but my icy tone doesn't seem to reach him, and yet, I thought it would be a fair hint.

"I'm really sorry for the mess, Mr. Murray. Please let me apologize for this kid who interrupted your dinner. He's a disaster and I've been thinking of getting rid of him."

My blood is boiling in my veins. It takes all the self-control I am capable of not to punch him across the desk and kick his butt out of my office.

"The other employees keep complaining about his slowness, and he's so clumsy it's not even f..."

"This is not what I've heard, Mr. Sanchez," I interrupt him, having heard enough, and I dearly enjoy how his face falls.

"Err... What... What do you mean, Sir?"

"Before we reach this part, I'll remind you of a few policies, Mr. Sanchez, and mostly about the code of conduct I implement in all my establishments," I say in my driest tone, staring straight into his eyes. "When a member of the staff makes a mistake, however serious it is, their manager is not supposed to yell at them in front of an audience. This sort of conversation should be accomplished in private, because I cannot tolerate humiliation, and much less violence.

"The kid, as you call him, could press charges against you, and he'd have nearly fifteen people who witnessed you kicking his leg and insulting him. Including me. Religion or sexual preferences are private matters that you can't use against an employee. Whether he likes males, females, both or whatever is none of your business, and whatever your opinions are on this, you are required to keep them to yourself and act in all objectivity."

"I understand, Mr. Murray," the jerk says, almost rolling his eyes, "but this guy is so useless! He is slow and ham-handed! It wasn't the first time he broke dishes!"

"And? Have you considered he might be tired of always doing the same chores? That would explain a lack of enthusiasm at work! And as far as the incident is concerned, are you sure he wasn't tripped?" I ask, half-smirking, half-glowering at him.

"Oh... Is that what he said? Don't tell me you're believing this bullshit!"

"I actually might."

"I see... So you're siding with that little cock-sucker of a fag!"

Enough...

I have heard more than enough. This bastard's speech is making me nauseous. He just doesn't get a single thing I'm telling him. I can't believe I never noticed his narrowmindedness earlier. I should have picked on it throughout the numerous times I worked beside him!

"I would strongly recommend you shut up, Mr. Sanchez," I reply in the calmest voice, "especially as it seems like you've been bullying this young man. For your information, Mr. Simmons hasn't said anything. This all results from a little investigation we made, and after what I witnessed last night and the substance of your arguments this morning, I've had more than enough to form an opinion of my own on your abject attitude."

His face is now as red as a ripe tomato, and I wish I could unleash my anger on him, but I need to remain professional to ensure the security of Alex, of the other members of the staff and of that bastard's potential future subordinates. I don't want to just get rid of him with the risk he might do this again in another workplace.

"Are you threatening to fire me, Mr. Murray?" he seethes through his teeth.

"It's not just a threat. I am terminating your contract."

"I'll attack you for wrongful termination!"

"Then I'll make sure we press charges against you for harassment, bullying and violence at a workplace. Don't forget that there were witnesses..." I trail off, which causes him to blanch. "I would like you to use your two-week notice to search a therapist who would help you to reign in your angers, or maybe a sensitive training on ethics, and I will pay for all the costs it incurs."

"I... I... I..." he stutters, suddenly unable to form a full sentence.

"Think about it seriously Mr. Sanchez, that will be my condition if you don't want me to ruin your career. If you don't follow my instructions, be sure that any potential future employer who calls me for references won't hear anything positive about you. Now Matt is going to show you to your locker so that you can get all your belongings there. You'll get your termination letter in the post, together with conditions regarding your notice, and your account settlement will come in the next three weeks. Goodbye Mr. Sanchez," I conclude with firm authority.

"Should go fuck this fag if he likes him so much..." I hear him grumble as he stands up to leave.

"Thank you for the advice, Mr. Sanchez, but I already have a boyfriend," I smirk, reclining in my chair.

The expression on his face when realization hits him is priceless. So, he hadn't picked on my homosexuality before... The mix of confusion, disgust and hate that he displays doesn't reach me, and I couldn't care less about his opinion.

Matt comes back about ten minutes later with more coffee and returns to his chair across my desk.

"You did really great, Mark. Good riddance, though I think you were too nice to him," he sighs. "He doesn't deserve your support..."

"No, he doesn't, but I don't want him to take another job where he'll abuse other subordinates. I'm responsible for taking the right measures to prevent this, so I don't have much of a choice."

"Yes, I guess you're right... I can't believe it took so long to catch that bastard, though. I wish I had noticed how hateful he is earlier."

"I was thinking the same... Anyway, now I need to hire a new chef. Can you think of someone who could handle the kitchen in the meantime?"

"Marissa could do that. She's been here for the longest, and although she doesn't aspire for such a high position with responsibilities, I'm sure she'd accept the interim. I can also help," he offers.

"Great! I'll launch a recruitment on Monday, and I'll also spend as many evenings as possible in the kitchen until I've found a new chef."

I can definitely do that. Matt and I agree on a schedule, with Marissa leading the kitchen during noon shifts, Matt will do some of them too as well as Tuesday and Saturday nights, and I will take care of the rest, which will coincide with evenings Shannon works.

At 11, Matt and I meet all the staff in the kitchen to inform them that Chef Sanchez will not come back and that a replacement will be hired as soon as possible. We then have a private interview with Marissa who shyly accepts to manage the kitchen temporarily, though she makes a point to resume her cook position as soon as a new chef takes over. While Matt gets to his tasks in the restaurant room, making sure that everything is ready before the first customers arrive, I get back to my office.

A few minutes before noon, I hear some shuffling in the corridor, and since I had left my door half-open, I can see Alex standing there.

"Come in, Alex!" I call out, and his head timidly pops in. "Good morning, please shut the door and have a seat," I beckon him with the warmest voice I can muster.

"Good morning, Sir. I'm a bit early, so I can wait outside if you're busy," he replies.

He is wearing old jeans, worn-out Converse shoes and the same old anorak as yesterday. He truly looks skinny, and his face is pale. His hair is still messy, but it gives him a cute look. Something has changed since last night, though. Something I can't pinpoint. His features are still the same, but he doesn't look as scared as he was yesterday, yet there's some sort of nervousness emanating from his body. Not the wrong kind of nervousness, but still some.

"I'm ready, Alex, just come in!" I encourage him, deciding that I need to make him more comfortable. "How is your hand doing?" I ask as he sits down across from me.

"It's good, Sir, thank you again..." he breathes out, his eyes locked on my desk.

Damn! He's so tense!!

"Alex, you don't have to be afraid. I'm not going to bite you!" I chuckle lightly.

Not just yet...

Holy fuck! Where did that come from?

Alex briefly peeks up at me, a sparkle of light in his eyes.

Get your self-control back together, Mark!!

"I've asked you to come and see me this morning because I wanted you to tell me honestly what was going on with the chef, but in the end, it won't be necessary, because your co-workers spoke and I saw more than enough last night," I explain softly.

Alex gasps and as tears start pooling in his eyes, he begins to anxiously fumble with his fingers, clasping and unclasping his hands while his teeth are chewing his hollow cheeks.

"Alex," I call out reassuringly before I stand up and go to squat beside him, catching his hands in mine. "Please let me finish..."

He nods in agreement and tries to retrieve his cold hands from mine, but my grip is too firm for him to succeed in doing so.

"Let's go sit on the couch, it'll be more comfortable," I suggest after a few seconds.

I let go of him, and he slowly rises to his feet before he goes to sit where he was last night. Not willing to add pressure on him, I take my time and eventually take a seat on the opposite side.

"You really should have spoken with Matt before, Alex."

"I was too scared of losing my job..."

"There's no reason for you to lose it. If you have a problem with your manager, you should go to the one above him, and I believe Matt is someone you can trust. He's a good manager, and he's very humane."

"I know, but... I thought that things would only get worse with Chef Sanchez, like... I'm afraid that if he got in trouble because of me yesterday, he'll be even harder..." he almost sobs.

"He won't, Alex. He won't because he was fired this morning," I explain, and his eyes open widely with relief. "My decision was already made after what I witnessed yesterday evening. I cannot tolerate such behavior in my restaurants, but I need you to understand a few things too. What you have endured over the past few weeks or months is called harassment, and you should have spoken to someone about it, either your colleagues or Matt."

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"I'm not scolding you, Alex. I'm just saying this for your own good. That would have prevented things to go as far as they went yesterday, but I'm also sorry that neither Matt or I noticed anything any sooner. In any case, I think you should press charges against Sanch..."

"No..." he gasps. "I can't do that..."

"Alex, let me speak first," I say more firmly. "I can understand if you don't want to, but please, I'd like you to at least go to the police station and make a log there. If you don't, I will. I want what happened to be reported officially, just in case something arises in the future."

"Ugh... I don't know..."

"I don't want to guilt you, but think about other vulnerable people he might oppress in another workplace. I'll do what I have to on my side to prevent this, but you should consider reporting him too. I'd accompany you to the station to do that, you wouldn't be alone, Alex..." I reason him.

I can see that he's seriously pondering on what I just told him, his eyebrows frowning.

"Okay... I guess you're right."

"Good. We can go when we're done here. Beforehand, I'd like to have another serious conversation with you. In your file, I saw that you were hired as a cook helper, but it seems like you haven't done that job much, right?" I ask, and he just shakes his head in answer. "I also saw that you graduated high school but never pursued your studies, why is that?"

"I wasn't able to, Sir..." he replies in a barely audible voice, his eyes watering again.

"Why did you apply as a cook helper, Alex? Can you cook?" I then ask, not willing to push him into what seems to be painful memories.

"I... I've always loved cooking, Sir, ever since I was a child. And I thought I could learn more by starting as a helper."

"I can only praise you on this, this is the best activity..." I comment, trying to convey warmth in my voice since his lowered eyes can't see my smile. "I'm willing to help you, Alex. If you truly love cooking and want to learn more, I'll put everything in action for you to do so."

His eyes briefly peek up at me again, full of hope, but he quickly averts them.

"Alex, look at me," I order and he eventually complies after a couple of seconds. "Do you really want to be a cook?"

"I would love this, Sir, but..."

"There's no but. You're going to learn here. From now on, you'll be working in pairs with another cook or maybe helpers to begin with. They'll teach you the fundamentals. After we've been to the police station, I'll drive you back to your place. I'm giving you paid leave to rest and think over my offer. By Sunday evening, I want you to call me and let me know of your decision. If you'd rather keep your former job, that's fine, just say it, but I would strongly recommend that you seize this opportunity if you really like cooking. How does this sound?"

"This... This is a bit embarrassing, Sir..."

"Don't be embarrassed, Alex. Just recover from all these strong emotions you dealt with recently and ponder on what I've proposed."

"Thank you so much, Sir," he replies with deep gratefulness in his voice and finally cracking a smile on his face.

And fuck me if that smile isn't beautiful! I bet this young man hasn't smiled much in a long time, and in this moment, I promise myself to do whatever I can to see it more often.

"You're welcome, Alex. Now let's go together to the station to report Simon Sanchez."

I leave Alex alone for a few minutes to quickly meet Matt and let him know about the conversation I just had with the young man, and he seems to be very happy about it. I also send a text to Shan to tell him I should be home around 2pm before I lead Alex to the closest police station.

I'm trying to convince him again to press charges but all he accepts is to make a log with an agent who registers his complaint officially. Said agent also advises him to take it further, but the boy is firm on refusing. Well, at least Simon Sanchez has been reported and it could be used against him if he reiterates somewhere else.

The ride to Alex's place is quite silent, but I still tell him that we'll arrange new schedules for him. If he's willing to, I'll change his contract to a full-time one, I'm sure he'd enjoy more paid hours in the future.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Murray..." he says once I have parked in front of his building. "I'll call you before tomorrow evening."

Good boy!

Come on, Mark!! Get a grip!!

"Yes, take the time for reflection. And hey, wait a second!" I call out as he is about to pull out of the car. "Let me see your phone!"

Alex frowns but he still pulls out an old device from the late 2000s that he must have purchased in a second-hand store or something. The perceptive young man has understood the purpose of my request and opens the contacts before he shows it to me. A pang of pain hits my heart when I see that the list only holds one name, and it says Mr. Murray.

Damn! He's young, and he should have plenty of friends! Why is this list so empty? I don't want to press him with more questions for now, though.

"All good. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Alex. Enjoy your weekend!"

"Thank you, Sir. Same to you..."

Oh that, I will! Now that I have sorted out most of this situation, I well intend to enjoy the rest of my weekend! As I head back toward my apartment, I try to get rid of all the weird emotions Alex has risen within me, and I focus on the delicious young man who's waiting for me at home and all the delightful things I'm going to do to his body tonight.

I just hate my brain for remembering how adorable he was with Alex yesterday evening and I can't help picturing them next to one another and comparing them.

Shannon is barely three years older than Alex, and he also certainly had a more or less difficult childhood, but somehow, I have a feeling that Alex had it even harder.

Shan is always full of joy, full of life and boisterous when Alex looks so sad, quiet and shy.

They are so different...

And weirdly enough, it brings me back to Shannon's sullen mood this morning, because I'm not used to him being so gloomy.

I just hope he's feeling better now.

Published on 14 May 2016

Edit on 15 February 2018: Thank you to JaneyJordan and @Bloodnut2 for their suggestions on this chapter! In the previous version, there was nothing about pressing charges or following up with the future of Sanchez, and I think it sounds much better like this :)