Date: Fri, 14 Nov 2003 18:36:47 -0800 (PST)
From: Evan Bradely <evanbradley33@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 2 of "The Crew"

The following fictional story deals with sex among males.  If you are
offended by such material, are too young, or reside in a location where it
is not allowed, please depart. Though not observed in this story, care
enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.
EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

Chapter 2
Substitute Homes
				Hal and Max

Hal and Max had been waiting for the rest of the crew to appear in the parking
lot of Murphy's Gym.  At the sound of metal scraping against metal and
a clang, they turned their heads toward a rattle-trap pickup turning into the
parking lot.  Antonio Ortiz was driving with Kenji Hamada and Jamal Washington
as passengers.	'So that's where Kenji has gotten to,' Hal thought.  Tonio
wheeled toward Hal's pickup.  "When's Tonio going to junk that heap and get a
better pickup?" Hal asked.  "He earns enough.  He knows the company would front
the money."

"He spends all his money on women," Max answered briefly.  "The deeper he
gets into men, the more he spends on women."

Hal looked at Max with a slightly pained expression on his face.  "Tell me he
understands that he's really deluding himself about what he actually wants,"
Hal stated.

"Naw, Tonio isn't a deep thinker, Hal, you know that.  Well, not a deep thinker
at this point in his life," Max observed.  "There's still too much mixed-up
kid in him."

Hal blew out breath expressing exasperation.  "Sounds like one, tortured
bisexual if you ask me."

"No-o-o-o," Max said slowly.  "Don't refer to Tonio as a bisexual.  He'll tell
you he isn't.  You know the Ortiz line on masculinity."

Hal turned his head, looking at Max in disbelief.  "He's a cock hound!" Hal
protested.  "We all know that.	He's hitting on us all the time - and scoring,"
Hal answered, grinning as he thought of those brown eyes that managed to
project innocent vulnerability; that boyish, handsome face always shadowed with
whiskers; that v-shaped moustache under a nice straight nose; a smattering of
black hair across his chest; a treasure trail that moved UP his stomach to just
under his pecks; a thick, tall square of hair above a long, fat cock.  "I can't
figure out if he wants to top or bottom.  You telling me he doesn't know the
answer to that?"

"Do you think there are answers to every question in the universe?" Max asked
again, iterating his earlier question to Hal - with a little sass thrown in.

"Dawg!" was Hal's tart reply.

Tonio clambered out the driver's side of the wreck of a pickup while Jamal and
Kenji piled out the other door.  The buddies didn't greet each other because
they'd all just left the construction site where they were building a huge, new
home for a wealthy surgeon, Charles Haynes, and his wife, Deirdre.  Levi Miller
and Ted Kortas pulled into the parking lot as the rest of them began to amble
toward the gym entrance.  "Hey," Tonio exclaimed, "there's Rich's BMW!"

"How'd an accountant ever get in the crew?" Max grumbled.

Hal stifled a grin.  Max was "pumping up" for the gym.	He often began by
verbally getting in someone's face about something.  Any issue was pretext
enough for Max.  "He's one hell of an accountant, he's my accountant, and I
wanted him in the group," Hal verbally shoved back.  "If it weren't for him, I
wouldn't have enough money to pay you overpriced lumber jockeys!"  This
challenge was met with groans of derision from the men.  "Besides," he
addressed Max, "you've liked his ass enough times to shoot a rod at the mere
sight of it.  Couldn't guess how many times you've plowed it, but I bet they
harvested hundreds of bushels from all the seed you two have planted."	Tonio
laughed out loud, and a grin was splitting Kenji's face as it was Jamal's.
They loved it when Hal and Max groused with each other.

"Max starting up?" Ted asked as he caught up with the group.

"Old man's cajones are so wrinkled he has to resort to all kinds of tricks to
get himself up for a workout," Levi charged as he came from behind and merged
with the group.

"If my balls are wrinkled, it's only because I've nearly injured them pulling
them out of your hungry mouth, mewling over them like a love-struck college
boy," Max shot back.

"I love it when you white boys get into it," Jamal said, egging Max on.

"You mean you're a hog for white schlong," Max shot back.

Jamal responded, "No Man, Black men have DICK!"  When he uttered the last
word, he lowered his voice to a basso level, filling it with menace, his pelvis
thrust forward, sporting quite a nice-looking mound.  "Schlong is for you
uptight, asshole-locked Germans."

Max reared back his arm threateningly.	Jamal whirled around and advanced
toward him, assuming a karate stance, uttering some foreign-sounding words.
"What did you say?" Max asked, his irritation showing, his arm dropping.

"It's Swahili, Man.  You wouldn't understand it.  They're secret words known
only to descendants of African royalty.  I was an African prince in a former
life," he said, posturing superiority.	As a response to Jamal's comeback, Max
blew out a contemptuous breath.  "That's why I know the words.	But the next
time you try to use your schl-o-n-g" - here Jamal imbued his voice with a
sympathetic tone - "it won't even move.  You'll have to come to me to be
cured, drink healing waters from my royal rod."

That exchange broke through even cool Kenji's exterior, setting him and the
others off into laughter.

"Just admit that you haven't had a blow job in a month and you're hard up.
It's just your way of begging for a little relief." Max returned.

"African prince, my ass!" Ted Kortas joined in the fun.

"Sorry babe," Jamal retorted, "that skinny Greek ass ain't good enough for you
to be an African prince.  I done tol' you, you have to have DICK and ASS,"
Jamal camped in answer to Ted's sneer.

Levi added his two cents worth in defending his lover:	"You Black Dudes are
always thinkin' you have the biggest equipment."

"It's cause our race developed first.  We evolved male equipment first, so we
got a head start," Jamal answered to a groan of protest from the others.

"He's got you there," Hal laughed.

"Besides," Jamal came back, "you Hebrew boys lost power when you lost your
foreskins," he jabbed back at Levi.

'Oh,' it's going to be a good workout,' Hal thought, smiling as the insults
continued to fly.  His boys were in good form.	He couldn't help noticing that
Jamal did a good job of defending himself single-handedly even though the
others had ganged up on him.  Hal knew it was because they really liked Jamal.
He knew they'd tried that Black dick and ass, returning whenever opportunity
allowed.  He wished he'd had more opportunities after their one weird
encounter.  Max noticed with a quiet smile that Hal's somber attitude had
evaporated with the testosterone-laced putdowns.  Max's gambit had paid off.
He knew how to pull Hal back to the group.

				The Crew

The group lost no time in donning workout clothes and hustling out of the locker
room to the weights/machines floor of the gym.	Hal had taken a moment to walk
over to the treadmills to speak to a former customer.  As he walked by the
machines, he caught sight of a short, blond fella checking him out.  As soon as
the guy tipped to Hal's awareness that he was being cruised, he looked down,
speeding up the pace of his workout.  Hal grinned.  'You still have it, stud,'
he told himself.  It was nice to know that others still found him attractive.
Suddenly, something about the guy had made his cock twitch in his jock, followed
by a tingling in his balls.  The last time that had happened was with Richie
Collins back at the orphanage.	But this guy didn't look remotely like Richie.
Their only point in common was that both were short.  Hal liked standing over
little guys.  He also like imagining holding this guy in his arms the way he'd
held Richie after their lovemaking.  He suddenly shook his head as though to
clear it of memories and returned to the crew.

After stretching exercises, they started working out in twos or threes but
never far from the entire crew.  There was much milling around and changing
groups.  Every once in a while, Hal glanced across the gym to see if the little
guy was still there, was still watching.  He was.  Again Hal's dick twitched.
As was	customary during their workouts, one of them would challenge another to
some little competition, usually the result of a teasing jab, dare, or sassy
remark.  Then they would all gather round, cheering their favorite.  When the
competitive event ended, the group returned to working out.

After having just completed a set, Hal was leaning back mopping sweat from his
brow with a towel.  He was watching his buddies, smiling.  He loved all these
guys.  And he'd had every one of them.	Actually, he thought Max started it when
his declaration that he didn't love Hal had sent the latter off into a long
depression.  After a month, they'd completed their first house and had another
to build, but the future owners were impatient to move in.  The husband shrewdly
offered a sliding bonus contingent on the number of days they cut from the
building time.	With a little careful figuring, Hal had decided to hire another
worker.  That's when Ted had come to the group.  Hal chuckled to himself.
Sometimes it had seemed that Max had removed their clothes and forced one upon
the other.  Max's gaydar was always accurate.  It wasn't a great challenge to
hook up Hal and Ted because Ted was one horny Greek.  That slim, beautifully
curved ass and big cock had enraptured Hal.

For a while with each new house, Hal had hired another worker.	And with each
new worker who was open to mansex, there was Max, pushing Hal into the guy's
pants.	Of course, Hal didn't resist.  He knew it was important to Max that Hal
find a guy with whom he could fall in love.  And he was all too familiar with
the pains of loneliness.  Next among the serious contenders was Levi.  Then
Tonio, followed by Jamal - well, something abortive had happened with Jamal.
They'd been together in a twosome only once.  Hal still couldn't figure out why
the two of them couldn't get something going.  He knew he and Jamal cared for
each other.  Finally there was Kenji.  He'd gotten it on with each new guy,
but, as with his trail of foster homes, each time there was some impediment to
the two becoming real lovers.  In the deepest recesses of his heart, it hurt
Hal that he couldn't connect.  He was mortally afraid to admit that maybe never
connecting in love would be his fate just as it had been his fate not to find
a family and home.  Perhaps out of desperation, Hal had even tried marriage.
It too had failed in no time at all.

Hal had employed lots of men over the seven years of his company's existence.
But the members of the crew were the solid ones, the friends who stuck by him.
Some of the guys he'd hired were restless, moving from one employer to another.
They might show up at a site asking for their pay with some excuse about how
they had to move on.  A couple of new hires just couldn't stay out of trouble
and jail.  Some just weren't made to hold a job for any length of time.  Others
were so much into snorting or shooting up or drinking that, upon the first
occasion of their showing up at the site high or drunk, he would give them
their walking papers.  All it would take was one of them being injured and
hiring a shark of a lawyer to put him out of business.

He was watching wiry little Kenji work his legs on a machine.  Hal smiled,
remembering Kenji's first appearance.  Hal had been in the construction trailer
working on an order for materials.  Because they were ahead of schedule, he'd
promised the crew that he'd treat them to pizza.  He was waiting for the
delivery boy.  When Kenji had knocked on the door and entered, Hal thought
he was delivering lunch.  Hal told him to bring the pizzas into the
construction trailer.

Kenji had looked puzzled.  "I'm here to apply for a job," he'd said quietly,
betraying no emotion.

Hal couldn't believe it.  Little, wiry, spare guy like that?  How could he
imagine that he could work construction?  "Construction work takes strength and
stamina," he'd replied.  "Why in the world would you want a construction job?"

"I need to make enough money to support myself," Kenji had replied.
Immediately Hal sensed a fellow traveler, someone who'd recently been
introduced to the School of Hard Knocks.  He appraised Kenji quietly.  In turn,
shrewd Kenji knew that Hal was in the critical phase of decision-making.  He
knew Hal was sizing him up, and he was thinking that Hal would probably tell
him he should consider something else.	He just HAD to have this job.  He was
about at his rope's end.  "I'll work hard.  I'll complete any job you give me.
I'll never give you a reason to regret hiring me," Kenji promised, speaking
urgently.  Then he felt ashamed for betraying his feelings.

Hal noted Kenji's downcast eyes after his rushed promise to be a good worker.
"What experiences have you had that qualify you for construction?" Hal asked,
not unkindly.

"I played soccer since elementary school and tennis since junior high.	I've
done gymnastics recently while I was in college.  I'm intelligent.  I pick up
concepts and processes quickly.  I don't mess with the usual trouble guys my
age can fall into," Kenji replied.

"What were you studying in college?" Hal asked.

"Electrical engineering."

"So why aren't you in college.	It doesn't sound like you finished," Hal
observed.

Kenji's mouth drew into a line, probably an uncharacteristic betrayal of inner
emotion, Hal thought.  "I don't have the support anymore," he said more quietly
than he intended.

Hal decided to take Kenji on for a trial period.  He thought that if Kenji
weren't really cut out for the work, he could have him deal with office matters
and help with clean up on the site.  "Where are you staying?"

Kenji had blushed, an unusual phenomenon for him.  He waited for the longest
time before replying.  "I sleep in the train station.  I keep my stuff in a
locker and use the bathroom there."

Hal had frowned immediately when he heard it.  All his dismal life history came
pouring forth at that moment.  "Okay, Kenji Hamada.  I'll take you on - under
certain conditions.  You have one month to prove that you can handle this work.
I'll start you off at what I pay my experienced workers.  You get your pay at
the end of every two weeks.  If you accept my offer, you and I are eating pizza
with my crew.  Then we are going to the train station in my pickup to get your
belongings.  You are staying at my place until you get on your feet.  No
arguments.  That's the deal.  Take it or leave it."

Kenji's head sank onto his chest.  Hal knew it was a gesture of relief.  He
also knew that Kenji seldom betrayed the inner existence of such emotions.  Of
course, Hal was as good as his word.  He introduced Kenji to the crew.	Kenji
had really put the pizza away.	Hal wondered what he'd been eating and how
often.	At the train station, Kenji had pulled a duffel bag out of a locker
with a jacket, a ball cap and tennis shoes stuffed in beside the duffel bag.
Hal had tried to notice how Kenji reacted when they arrived at his home and he
had ushered him to one of the bedrooms, but Kenji was saying little and
betraying nothing.  Over the next week, Hal noticed how relaxed Kenji was,
whether he was sitting on the screened-in porch soaking up fresh air, watching
tennis or soccer matches at the entertainment center in the family room, or
catching some rays on the deck.  His eyes glittered with pleasure and
intelligence.  Kenji had been a good housemate, pitching in even when he
hadn't been asked.  He was a good cook too.

At construction sites, Kenji floored them all.	He was like a monkey scrambling
across exposed floor joists and on the roof.  He talked little and worked
constantly.  It took some time for the group to break through shy Kenji's
defense shields.  They were curious, but Kenji was so reserved that they
weren't initially successful in drawing him in.  Hal grinned.  It was probably
Jamal who'd been most successful.  Kenji had a habit of - without making a
sound - walking up behind someone and touching him on the shoulder.  Kenji had
made each one of them nearly jump out of his skin at one time or another.
Once when Kenji had startled Hal in front of the group, Hal had groused
teasingly about Kenji's need to be thoughtful enough to make a little noise
when he was walking up behind someone.	Kenji smiled and stomped noisily off
across the wooden floor - earning the crew's laughter.	Jamal had started
calling him "Ninja Kenja."  Kenji had giggled.	The appellation stuck.	So
Kenji was often called "Ninja."

Hal's attention shifted back to Kenji, who was arising from the leg machine so
that Jamal could take his place.  It was as though Hal were Superman, whose
x-ray vision allowed him to see through Kenji's filmy running shorts.  He knew
that sweet, rounded ass with the cute ring of straight black hairs around that
little light brown ass hole.  Damn, he'd loved chowing down on that.  So had
Kenji.	He doubted Kenji had ever made little yipping noises in his carefully
guarded life the way he did when Hal ate his ass out.  Kenji had climbed all
over him like a puppy eager for love.  Hal was trying to direct their
lovemaking to an experience that Kenji would want to relive, but Kenji's eager,
strenuous responses to Hal tossed the issue of who controlled what into
question.  He also saw that hard, fat five-inch dick surrounded by that
beautiful, straight, Oriental black hair.  Damn!  He loved black hair in pits,
on a head, around a dick, or ringing a hole.  But his acquaintance with Kenji's
delights hadn't lasted long.

Over the next four weeks, Hal had observed wistful looks on Max's face and
agitation in Kenji's body language when he was around Max.  'Why is Fate so
perverse?' Hal wondered. That hunky, substantial, muscular, face of
Max's - Hal wanted it to look at him the way it looked at Kenji.  It
never would.  Would anyone ever look at Hal that way, he asked himself?  So
long he'd been hoping - so long!

Soon after that, he'd called Max and Kenji aside and told them he'd made a
reservation for them at a nice, informal restaurant with a great menu that Hal
liked.	He knew they'd feel comfortable there.	Hal had told them that they
were going on a date.  He'd knocked speech right out of them.  "Look, you two,
I care about you.  I even love you two in a way you'll never understand.  You
want each other.  You belong together.	So use this occasion to plan your
future together, or I may have to kick some ass."  At his last word, he'd taken
Kenji's hand and filled it with a small bottle of Wet and a few condoms.  The
look on Max's face as he looked into Kenji's eyes had hurt Hal, for it was full
of the love that he had wanted to see there several years before.  He'd turned
and walked off rapidly.  He'd stayed away from the construction site the next
day.  He just couldn't bear the pain of observing the two lovebirds looking at
each other after they'd consummated their longing.  He was happy that Kenji had
come by his home to collect his few belongings while Hal was out.  Hal didn't
need to be told that Kenji was moving in with Max.

He'd returned to work the day after that, but he'd been quiet for a month.  He
knew Max's riding with him to the gym wasn't a coincidence.  He'd wondered
what was coming off, but nothing was ever said or addressed.  He couldn't
imagine what the point was.  He'd stepped aside to allow Max and Kenji to have
what they wanted and needed.  Surely they didn't want to rub his face in it.

Kenji, Max and Levi were milling around Jamal, who was still working his legs.
Ted, Tonio and Rich were over working with free weights.  Suddenly, Hal arose,
toweling off as he walked to a door in the corner of the huge open floor area.
He needed motion.  He took the steps two at a time up to the indoor track and
began his jog.	Because he'd relived too much of his history of loss and
rejection, he hoped he'd be able to complete his laps alone.  He didn't want to
be with the others.  He had only a few more circuits to go to meet his target
for the day when he noticed Kenji and Tonio moving out onto the track.	He knew
the others wouldn't be long in coming up too.  The first chance he got, he
ducked out the double doors of an exit, shot down the stairs and into the
locker room to retrieve his clothes.  He shoved them into his gym bag and left
the gym.  He unlocked his pickup, climbed in, started the engine, and shot out
of the parking lot.

(To be continued.)