Date: Tue, 9 Feb 2016 13:45:46 +0000
From: TCHASE MCPHEE <survivalgame@outlook.com>
Subject: ?LoOkiNG FoR SoMEThiNG MOre? 04

% This work of fiction is set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to
real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in
nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons of habitats,
governmental or non-governmental areas, secret rooms or dungeons.


% States and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing
`adult material'. It is up to you, the reader, to research this subject,
abiding by their own laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain
`adult material', intended for an `adult audience.' Bypass this warning at
your own risk!


% Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use
protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless
he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt.



Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have over
the years, consider adding some $upport for `internet $pace' or else I will
have to start cutting handsome, hairy or steamy characters out of my
stories. Do you dare imagine a story without any tops?

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html



% If sexual scenes involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then
why are you here? Seriously, if dude-to-dude sex stuff makes you wanna barf
or is gonna screw up your mind, you should not read this story...just
sayin'! :)


%


"LoOkiNG FoR SoMEThiNG MOre" 04

WriTten by T. Chase McPhee


^ 0 ^


%


"Oh..oh...oh...oh..ohhh-h-h-shi-i-i-i-it!


How it ended up for the two high school seniors, each did their part in
making their first sexy moment the best.


Conor, after lubing Austin up, making it slimier than the best made tube of
lube, had snuck his hips upwards. With his bud feeling mighty fine, he used
some of that lube to finger his ass opening. Not which he meant to be
sneaky, he figured Austin, if he asked before doing, too much time would be
spent thinking both would lose what was built up.


Austin, by this time using the wrought iron bars of the headboard, having
taken all the life out of the pillow, sensed thing too good to stop. It was
on his mind to use that safeword Conor gave him, but it kept running
through his mind, Rocki saying stuff about `risk-taking'. Too, it was not
like he was master over Conor's ass.


His pal did the bidding over him, lifting his jack-knifed ass up and over
the 8-inch spike, allowing Conor to slowly leverage himself down, a hand
used as a compass to put the key in the ignition.


>From there, the two took off at high speed, Austin finding the urge to
buck his hips, driving his shaft deeper.


With Conor's balls `punching' his bud, cock slapping him above the navel,
it was all good, his ass getting a ground onto the pillar, balls slapped
hard.


He was feeling a little less good about it, Austin about ready to hit that
high, countertenor pitch, when Conor lifts himself off and all in one
swoop, slides down, taking his juicy cock in his mouth.


Easily remedied, Austin is in the realm of ecstasy, Conor sucking and
sucking...sucking...sucking..up and down, to the flange and back...lips
pursed...


Another `weirdo' thing, Conor reaches up, grabs one of Austin's hands and
pulls it down.


Conor's own condemnation, Austin's hand could reach his cock.


"One sec!" he's off and then back on the spike.


"Huh?" Austin again, trusting Conor's judgement, watches him switch around.


Mouth not leaving Austin's shaft to dry out in the wind, his suck-job
remains intact, as his bod turns out to the side.


Beauty of a full-sized bed, as opposed to twin, there's ample space for
two, in compromising positions, to spread out.


It made Austin, in the midst or this intense, erotic moment, smile, seeing
Conor rush into this position, all to make it accommodating for his hand to
jerk his pal's cock!


With everything in place, the machine starting working, like it had been a
flawless sketch on an architect's desk, set in motion.


In less than a minute, both were heaving in pent up anxiety, exploding like
fireworks on a patriotic holiday.


Conor's approach was making guttural sounds, feeling Austin's cock seep
out, like coaxing, `c'mon, c'mon.' Then, all at once it spurted out, gooey
creme, a bottom-boy's dream load, taking it in, swallowing hastily, tasting
the liquid, feeling the warmth.


Austin, he didn't know what to think, literally going with the flow,
feeling his own excretion, followed by his hand in the honey pot, Conor's
goo all over his five digits.


Then, to his amazement, Conor, the glutton, pops off his deflated tube,
works his way around and licks off Austin's fingers!


"What tha..." Austin watches, Conor using each of his fingers and thumb
like a popsicle, lapping up the residue from his hand. "You really like
that stuff, don't you?"


"Can't get enough of it! Here...taste?"


One eyebrow up, the other in place, Austin responds in disdain, "No
thanks. Don't want to put a damper on your tastebuds!"


%


Nik went back to work, which his schedule dictated it not being
back-to-back scheduling of client appointments.


If he cut out of the gym to go home for lunch, it meant changing from gym
gear, into street clothes and back again when he returned.


He never made it past the front desk, his boss, Axel Scott coming over and
introducing, "Nik, meet Bart Bublay. Bart, this is the trainer I suggest
for you."


Before Nik could say a word, Axel disappears.


Right before Axel introduced Bart to him, Nik was liking `the features';
messy haircut, not quite shoulder length, full beard, not much different
than his own and a nice, 6-foot build.


"So, what's your story?" Nik asks, the front desk holding him in place
while they chat.


"How far back do you want me to go?"


It made Nik smile, "Far as it need be. What do you do?"


Right now, Bart was thinking, not just `what', but `what he'd like to do to
Nik right now', "I'm from Boston, attended BU, for anthropology, but when I
got out, had little interest in it, so started working for a Landscaping
firm," thrown in to justify later, who he had an attraction to Nik, "who
shortly thereafter became my partner," doesn't look for reaction, rather
the ceiling, like it held some answers, "then, cycling with the club, I got
side-swiped by a truck," Bart gets dramatic, "who, the truck driver, claims
the wind blew his truck to the side of the road...trust me, the guys in our
cycling club said he was texting. Any how, it made for a nice lawsuit, of
which the truck driver confessed and I made out with a whole lot of
money. Now, I'm here, after 6 months of physical therapy, to tone up for
the Aids-cycle ride, which if I don't drop some fat," Bart pinches a little
belly-blubber, "and gain some muscle, my cycling buddies don't want me on
the team. Anything else?"


"Yeah. Kind of a harsh reality. Are you sure they're your buds?"


Shrugging both shoulders, Bart says, "Only fair. Like, we set standards at
the beginning, when we started up our cycling team. Any of us could be
dropped for a number of reasons. The way I look at it, it's a good
challenge. I like to be challenged."


Nik was thinking, `No problem with that!', "Well, I think I can work with
that. How much time you have today?"


"All the time in the world," Bart says, having stood there, hands going
back and forth, clapping lightly when they meet. "I should change first."


Figuring it out, as best he could, Nik didn't think Bart was in such
terrible shape, a backpack on one shoulder, and the nervous act of swinging
hands, back and forth, "Why don't you start and I'll be along?"


After Bart was through the gym door, Nik turns towards the desk clerk,
"John, call my clients and tell them I have to cancel."


Having been standing there, John had taken in every phrase of their
conversation, "And what reason should I give?"


It wasn't the first time John had erased Nik's slate. Nik stood there, with
sarcasm, volleys back, "Like, you've never done that before?"


Knowing he was toying with the hot personal trainer, of which he hasn't yet
managed to get into his pants, John replies, "I'll handle it, but you owe
me one?"


Nik wondered about that, as he headed off towards the locker room, of how
many times he's `owed' John. Though, he knew John had a big screwdriver in
his toolbox and it was only a matter of time before payup time would draw
near!


Multi rows of lockers, Nik had to call out, "Bart, where are you?"


He could have died right there, Nik stepping out to the main aisle, not a
stitch of clothing on, except for the dark mat on his chest and stomach,
nonstop even when it hit the base of his cock, "There you are!"


Bart found enough excuse to stall, after walking back down the lane of
lockers, "I don't have a lock. You think I'll be okay?"


"More than okay," Nik replies with a smile.


Out on a bench were a pair of gym shorts, shirtless tee, socks and
sneakers. Purposefully, to get an idea of where Nik stood, he asks, "I hope
it's okay...I never got used to wearing briefs in the gym?"


It didn't make any difference to Nik, "Better without!"


If by now, Bart and Nik hadn't a clue to what was being passed between
them, then they were very poor at gaydar perception.


Then Bart just hung there, a hand up on the door of the locker, watching
Nik strip down.


After stripping his shirt, he says, "Waiting for me to workout with that
big boy?"


"First the workout, then the tip!" Bart replies with a smile, flipping and
flopping his cock and balls around.


"I better make this your finest workout ever, then!"


Both dressed in appropriate gym gear, tanks and shorts, socks and sneakers.


Bart removes a bottle of water from his gym bag.


Nik saved his thirst for later!


Walking out into the alcove of the gym, Bart asks, rubbing together his
`big' hands, "Where to coach?"


If Nik had his way, it would be the lounge, a small room set aside for
personal trainers.


"Warm ups?"


"I'm game, if you are."


Apparatus on the floor, straps hanging from the ceiling, big round blue
balls, Nik takes Bart over to a group of mats.


"Here, let me show you what I want you to do first," Nik gets down on hands
and knees.


First he arches his back, looking like a cat, scared shit. Moving on, he
drops his belly, back in a concave position. From there, he goes back to
the first position and keeps flexing back and forth.


Bart smiles, saying, "Sort of like fucking a pig, eh?"


In the down position, but halfway between, back flat as a board, Nik halts,
"Knock yourself out!"


"Thanks for the offer, but I doubt your manager would want a spectacle in
the middle of his gym floor?"


Bart was right, but it's not like Nik was going to bare his hairy ass,
"We'll wait for the cool down!"


Nothing had to be said for that, both knowing well, `cool' meant, not doing
some yoga stretches, but scrubbing backs in the shower.


>From there, Bart began showing off, getting down on the mat. Not only the
cat-belly drop warmup, he set about doing advanced crunches. Hands behind
his head, he would lift hips until the elbows touched his knees.


Doing it paced, slow tempo, when he stretches out, it's all Nik could do to
keep himself from falling to his knees. Though, to get a closer look at
where Bart's shirt would ride up his abs, showing off the embedded treasure
trail, melding with the top of some hairy pubes, he squatted down.


Since he was a personal trainer, there to train, he didn't feel
self-conscious, putting a hand on Bart's stomach, "Slow down. Feel the
burn."


"Didn't your manager warn you, to ask before putting a hand on a client,
that it would be sexual harassment not to?"


"So...harass me!"


Dropping hands, to the mat behind him, palms faced down, arms bracing him,
Bart straightened out his legs and sat in a relaxed position.


Nik removes his hand, just in time for Bart's tank to flow down. Though it
still left `food for thought', the deep, dark-haired bellyhole, scrunched
up...


"I was thinking about it," Bart through hint, "if we ever get through this
workout...what do we have, fifty minutes?"


Normally, the complimentary training session would run 30 minutes.


Assuming a lot here, Nik says, "Well, you `are' going to continue training
sessions with me, aren't you?"


Smiling, Bart says, "Depends on how the barbell fits in the plate!"


New to him, Nik had to think on it, but soon it came to him, "Trust me...it
can be a tight fit!"


Standing, Nik casually held onto the straps hanging from the ceiling. He
didn't do it for everyone, only those whom he thought fit a certain
`role'. Reaching higher, it resembled being in captivity, something Nik
intentionally tried to lure certain clients into his web.


Standing, facing Nik, Bart says, "I'm not familiar with this
equipment. Tell me, do those straps loosen up, so a person can do bend over
rows?"


`Oh man, wouldn't that be sweet!' Nik thought, Bart standing behind him,
himself doing all the work; standing straight, bending over, catching his
client's erection on the lip of his ass. He had to stop thinking about it,
if he didn't want to pop a boner, a great disturbance in the force!


"Ready for some `real' weight lifting?"


It's not like Bart was a stranger to the vices of a personal
trainer. Unofficially, he worked out with some college buds. Since he was
already a vision of how a guy who worked out, looked like, Bart was elected
to be their personal trainer. With Nik as his mentor, Bart was certain the
changing times would not change up things much differently. Though, he was
certainly up for playing it dumb!


"Lie down on the bench, on your back."


In carrying on his charade, Bart lies down on his back, knees under brace,
where the barbell would sit.


Placing a hand at the side of Bart's pec, Nik says, "No, your ass should be
about here."


"Oh!" Bart acts surprised, sitting up, "As you can tell, I never did this
before."


Nik, in his mind thinks, `Right, Bart. Like you never knew what a barbell
and plate was, either!'


"Well, just scoot yourself around and..."


Doing as told, Bart did scoot around. His short-lengthed tank did rise up,
not on purpose, but he thought it would make for a cool tease, pulling it
down once he was situated.


Flattening the tank tail down, Bart says with a smile, "Don't want to get
kicked out of the gym for being indecent!"


If it were after hours, the gym void of other gymsters and their personal
trainers, Nik would made a good suggestion, which would keep clothing
optional.


"Yeah. Number one gym rule, clients must keep clothed at all times."


Playing Nik, Bart says, "Silly rule!"


As Nik set the barbell in place, over Bart's head, he bends over, says,
"Man, I'd sure rather be in your place right now!"


"You mean, like this?"


Nik had to stand up quick, or else get socked in the head with Bart's size
12's. From the side, it would look like he assumed a `C' position, arms and
legs long, his ass completely off the bench.


He only held the position for a few seconds, giving Nik the hint.


"Well, what's next?"


Next was Nik, loading up the bar and doing his job, as it's supposed to go,
"More weight?"


"Bring it on!"


Before each increment of weight was added, Bart got up off the bench and
asks, "Would you mind showing me how that goes again, coach?"


The first time Nik sat, lay on the bench, he tried to achieve the heels
over head position, "Wow! What a good stretch!"


Bart couldn't help but agree, his jockstrap feeling stretched!


However, he didn't want to get too excited, "Stop showing off!"


On the rebound, when Nik drops his feet to the gym floor, with a clunk, "I
see how my demonstration is getting through to you!"


If he chose to lean forward, Bart's crotch would be right there to greet
him!


"What's next?"


"In a hurry?"


"I'm on lunch."


"Oh, right, from the landscaping job," Nik says, standing up, bench keeping
his legs apart.


"I never said I where I worked?"


Uh-oh, he was in trouble. Nik could be termed an awkward driver, on many
occasions swooping out of the bike lane or crossing the double line, all in
the name of stalking any topless man he happened to pass along the journey.


Now it was costing him, not being on the sly. Best way to cover oneself,
was to cause confusion, "Are you sure?"


He knew he didn't, but Bart play Nik's game, "I suppose I must have." Then,
throwing his trainer off course, "I guess I know what you do!"


Nik had hoped, as they proceeded to another area of the gym, Bart meant
when duplicating the heels over head pose, "How we stop, drop and do some
pushups?"


"Fine," Bart says, `dropping' and pumping out the up and down
movements. After number 2, he stops in the elevated part of the loop,
"well?"


"Well, what?"


"You did say, `we' stop and drop?"


Being they were alone in this part of the gym, Nik drops his first hint, "I
don't think I can fit in the spot between the mat and you?"


Nik didn't know if Bart was serious or funnin' him, the grouch saying, "I'm
having enough of a time trying to control myself, if you know what I mean?"


Dropped to his knees, Bart stare up at him.


Playing along, Nik says, "Kind of tough to tell when you're not wearing
lycra shorts?"


They did a few more things, an hour slipping by quickly.


"That about wraps it up. Wanna hit the shower?"


Bart had other plans, "No time. Besides, I'd rather be nice and ripe for
you, when you come over for dinner at my place?"


Nik bit his lip. One of the down sides to having a partner, meeting a new,
hot client. He was never the one to stick with rules 100% of the time, like
the one of not mixing business with pleasure. The pressure was just too
great, which to Nik, he would have to be open minded and able to accept the
consequences of failure to follow the rules. Even the rules of
relationships, he and Patrick sharing the `open' type, having drawn up
their own set of values.


"Uh, sure. I just have to make some phone calls," Nik replies, nervously
playing with his beard.


Having walked to the desk, John mentions, "Nik, this customer is looking
for personal training, if you're free?"


For a 31-year old, Bart was hot. Though, Nik could not keep from thinking
the same thing about the lad at the desk, "Of course I'm free. Let me just
wind up things here with my other client."


Not stoopid, Bart had remained at the frame to the mens locker room. When
Nik approaches him, Bart says, "When you come tonight, bring him along!"


"What if he's straight?"


"My dick isn't prejudiced!"


When Bart went back to his locker, he opened it, stripped down. Having seen
whom was up next on Nik's training schedule, he decided he better shower
off. In his mind, he played over how it went, reading the small print and
signing off on a gym contract, giving in a minute here or there.


Giving in for one more minute would have made him tardy, hearing the locker
room door budge open, talking, knowing that was Nik's voice. The other
dude, he thought was sexy-sounding too!


Grabbing his towel, he wrapped up his naked loins and stepped lively to the
end of the valley of lockers.


"Bart!" Nik almost collides, "You're not dressed yet?"


Perhaps Nik had his doubts, but it wasn't processing into a major obstacle,
Bart picking up on a pair of eyes, stalking him from the towel, up, "Aren't
you going to introduce me to your client?"


Rather, Nik and Bart were both whacked out of their gourds, the client
going for a handshake, "Hi, I'm Michael Armstrong...and you are?"


Taking Michael's hand, Bart didn't think it was `strong', but the rest of
`the kid' was kind of nice, "Bart. Nice to make your acquaintance,
Michael!"


Nik could see the invisible writing on the wall now, saying bye-bye to both
his client and the dinner engagement.


"Thanks," Michael stares.


Like they hadn't met just now, had been friends for ages, Bart says, "Well,
I've gotta shower and get back to the truck, but if you're not doing
anything later, Nik and me are getting together for some supper?"


How could Michael even think about turning down an offer, from the wall of
black hair facing him, a smiling, inviting face?


Shrugging both shoulders, Michael says, "Nope. Not doing anything. Sure,
I'd be up for a free meal!"


"Great," Bart dashes back to his locker. Grabbing his cell, he darts back,
"Got a phone?"


The three had a phone exchange going, punching in numbers and first names.


In passing, Michael finds out Bart is headed back to his day job,
landscaping, "Cool! Are they hiring?"


Anyone else, Bart would have responded in the negative, "I'll put in a good
word for you, though you might get stuck doing the shit jobs?"


Eager to work, or work with Bart, whichever came first now, "I love shit
jobs!"


"Um, shouldn't you think about getting back to that job, Bart, before
you're not able to put in a good word for Michael here?"


Now that there wasn't anything to get him to the shower, Plan A having
worked, Bart achieving what he set out for, a hookup, he headed back to his
locker.


On their way back from the locker room chore, Nik says, "I guess Bart's not
showering after all."


A toothy smile on Michael's face, says, "Mm-yeah, more tasty for us, huh?"


Of course, when there's three involved, without knowing what the
preferences are, there's always room for speculation.


"Oh, so you're a bottom?"


Michael says, "Yeah, unless there's a spare ass available!"


With that tidbit made available, Nik says, "I love it all...anything and
everything!"


"Really?" they walk towards the straps and balls warmup area, "I've heard
of guys doing some pretty nasty stuff?"


Nik knows about all the `nasty', "I know. Have done some of it myself,"
said like he was proud as hell!


While Bart showered, he had to get rid of some pent up emotions. Some would
think it weird, but he got some of his jollies out by approaching a wall of
the shower and squirting liquid soap out in a hand and washing the
wall. After it was soaped up and shiny, he inched himself up to it. First
feeling of sensual fun, was touching the tip of his shaft.


Forgetting where he was, grinding his pubes into the wall, he sighed with
great emotion, "Oh-h-man does that feel good!"


Of course, it would have been much finer if he had a nice, tight ass in
front of him!


"Hey, are you okay in there?"


Bart freezes in place, suddenly remembering he was not at home, "Oh shit!"
Then, thinking no one does that, unless they want in on the action, "I'm
okay. I might have pulled a muscle, working out."


He did the voice recognition bit, playing it over in his mind. It wasn't
Michael, Nik, nor the wimpy kid at the desk, John.


"If you say so."


`Dammit!' Bart thought.


If he were outside, working on cutting bushes, or watering, purposely, when
the sun was out, he'd have the shirt off. A long time ago, he learned, the
least amount of clothing, the more a of a magnet he could be. Not a
stranger to a gym, Bart wanted to join Scott's Big Pecs, hearing that a
multitude of `the gay community' worked out there. Then he waiting too
long, the dude was gone. Time to go back to the `wall-surfing'!


The reason the other dude was there, was to fill the towel supply and haul
off the used ones. While he had a few in his arms, he decides he better go
back.


Making sure the dude working himself up into a frenzy in the shower, is
okay, "I'm back."


This time, Bart didn't waste any time, flinging the shower door open and
proudly displaying all that he owned. Seeing arms loaded, it was the
perfect opportunity, "Got a dry towel there?"


Second thing in his favor, was the guy not greeting him in the face, but
staring at his fully inflated cock, "Uh...yeah," he stutters.


"A problem?" Bart asks. "Like, are those towels reserved for someone else?"


Walking out of the glass-enclosure, Bart's bod butts up against the four
towels. It almost bowls the dude over.


"Nope."


Bart is all smiles, when the guy hands him a towel, explaining his life
away, "I'm Jared. This is my first day working at the gym. Do you come here
every day?"


Bart didn't let on it was his first day too, "Of course. It's how I keep up
this figure!"


He knew he had the dude hooked, drying his pubes so intently, lifting up
his almost 10-inch-tube to dry the tennis balls off.


"With all that to dry off, I'm sure you'll be needing another towel?"


"Not shy. I like that," Bart says.


Hearing his name called, John's, Jared says, "I'm wanted, but if you need
any other help, like drying off, give a yell!"


At this rate, Bart knew he would be late getting back to the landscape
job. Though, he also knew how he could repay his tardiness!


%


Meanwhile, back at Palma Heights Town-homes, Conor has cornered Austin in
the kitchen, now that Nik wasn't there to comment with any wisecracks.


About ready to engage, they hear from the door from the outside, "You guys
wanna get a room?"


Turning to the individual, Conor says, "Ever thinking of knocking?"


"I live here."


Soon, the mystery man is no more just another handsome face to Austin,
Conor saying, "This is my dad."


"Nice to meet you Mr. O'Connor," Austin swipes past Conor.


Engaging in the handshake, "We're not that formal around here. You can call
me Patrick."


"Nice to meet you," Austin says, wanting to check out Conor's dad, but...he
was his dad!


"You're home early?" Conor questions, reaching in the fridge for 3 water
bottles.


"A little slow at the office. What are you two up to, besides trying to
`get to know each other better'?"


Conor dominates the scene, Austin in the backdrop, "We were about to go out
and find something to eat."


"So I see," Patrick adds a chuckle, knowing his son savored cock.


"On the way home, I thought if anyone was there, I'd drag them out for a
meal at the club?"


Open invitation, Conor knew the implications of relaxing at the `club',
"I'm okay with that. How about it, Austin?"


He wasn't sure, saying, "Fine with me, except..."


Immediately thinking about it, Austin wondered if he had enough loot in his
wallet. Unlike other kids his age, his mom hadn't had the stability of
giving him a credit card. If in fact, when he mentioned having one, she
just laughed at him!


Conor knew that little quirk, Austin's chin pinned to his chest, "what's
up?"


When Patrick walked in the door, he was suspicious, wondering if this was a
guy Conor had picked up somewhere. One of his qualms, if he didn't allow
his son to bring guys home, then would he have resorted to sex in some
seedy place, so that's why he show encouragement. Knowing it fell with the
territory, Patrick was patient and tried not to be judging, unless he felt
it warranted intervention.


Patrick's now thinking, Conor's friend not quite right, "Something I should
know about, son?"


"Uh, yeah," Conor's not sure to mention this, whether it was supposed to be
something secret between them.



His father says, "Because you know how I am, that..."


"I know." However, to satisfy his dad, "Austin's going through that post
dramatic success therapy...remember I had it too?"


Austin mumbles, "It's post traumatic stress," which makes Conor's dad
smile.


"Oh," Conor still thought he was right, "whatever, we both know how that
goes, right dad?"


"Right, we do," Patrick replies, feeling sympathetic towards his friend,
"I'm glad you're there for him, son."


Conor perks up, "Really? Thanks!" Then turning back to Austin, "Dad's
always saying that things happen for a reason. My shrink used to say, that
what I went through, I'd be able to relate, when someone else comes along
with the same problem."


Well, it wasn't exactly the same, but cheering on from his dad, Conor broke
through the barrier of Austin's feeling sad.


"Instead of waiting," looking at the clock, seeing it's 2:30pm, Patrick
says, "why don't we head out now for something to eat?"


"What about Nik?" Conor asks.


"I got a call from him earlier. He says he has to work."


Austin's astonished, Conor confronting his dad, "And you believe him?"


"You know that story," Patrick looks to Austin, back at Conor.


Conor just shrugged his shoulders. One thing, he knows he shouldn't have
said anything derogatory in front of his friend.


"I'll go freshen up a bit. You be ready when I come down."


Hearing footsteps on the stairs, Austin, not that he wanted to pry, was
curious, "What was that look you and your dad gave each other?"


"Trust me," Conor replies, "if you ever have two dads, you don't want to
shame one in front of the other."


"But you're always saying something bad about Nik?"


"Right. It's okay though, if Nik is standing there, but when he's not, it's
like saying something behind his back."


"Hmm. I suppose that's something to think about. So, even if hypothetically
speaking, I were your partner and someone said something bad about me and I
wasn't around, you would be pissed at that guy?"


Well, for certain, aside from the question put to him, Conor was wondering
if he could ever assume the role of Austin's other half.


"Something like that." Something he didn't really want to talk about, but
allow to sprout and grow, if it be the case, Conor didn't want to talk
about it, just think about it, "Y'know, I bet I can find a shirt to fit
you?"


"What's wrong with this one?"


"Trust me, when my father takes us out to the club, you've got to look the
part!"


`The part?' Austin mouthes, allowing Conor to drag him upstairs, arm over
the shoulder.


At the top of the stairs, Austin's mouth drops open.


Conor's dad is on his way from the bathroom to his own bedroom, he's
dressed in only a toweled waist, "I decided to shower and get the crud off
me," like he had to explain.


Forgetting his place, Austin could explain why his churning balls were
giving him his jollies, but tamed it down, "Gosh, Mr. O'Connor, you are
really beautiful!"


He had some toned down, ginger red fur already on his chest, a stripe down
the middle and a swath around his navel, Conor thinking that when he
matured more, his entire front would be covered, much like his dad.


Both light-skinned, it didn't take much to blush, "I think Austin likes you
dad!"


Patrick says to that, "Hmm, maybe we should go out on a date!"


Austin did have the urge to slap his bud, for being so open about feelings
and as it is, guessing exactly how he was feeling now!


Ducking into Conor's room, he says, "My dad likes you."


"I like him too, but you don't have to go shooting your mouth off about it?
Besides, it's probably not in the way your thinking it."


"Oh? And how do you think I'm reading this?"


"I'm not in love with your dad," Austin replies, "I'm in love with..."


"Me?"


"No...his appearance!"


Conor than acts like the depressed one, "You don't like me no more?" his
pouty bottom lip expands under the top.


Having stripped off his tee, Conor says, "Well, there's more to a man than
looking like this?" he moves hands around, showing he means his royal
furriness!


"If I get what you're saying, I love you more than that?"


Nothing went by Conor, sitting on the foot of the bed, keeling over
backwards, stretching his arms overhead, announcing, ya-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay he
loves me!"


It's then Austin backtracks, thinking, "I didn't say that."


Sitting, Conor says, "Yes you did."


"When?"


"Less than a minute ago."


"I guess I might have," Austin sits down next to Conor.


"Here," Conor's hands are on Austin shirt, "we need to prove something."


When he didn't know Conor, there was no one Austin trusted, enough to get
their hands on him. Now, he raised both arms in the air, not thinking about
what was being done to him.


"Now what?" Austin refreshes his spiky hair.


"We sit here."


"Isn't your dad waiting for us?"


"Let him wait. This is more important."


"If you say so. You know better than me."


Then Conor switches his tush around, so he sort of faces Austin.


"Now, take a chance and go with me here," he puts both hands on Austin's
shoulders.


"When did I `not' take a chance with you, Conor?"


He did feel a little strange, Conor falling back, pulling him with him.


"Uh, what am I doing on top of you?"


Conor explains his experiment, "Now move yourself around."


Doing a pushup, Austin is harshly reprimanded, by Conor pulling him back
down.


"No. Move around without getting up."


Checking, to make sure he got the message, "You want me to move
myself...like, rub against you?"


"Right."


"And what's that supposed to prove?"


"Do you trust me?"


"Of course, but all I want to know is what all this is supposed to mean?"


"What it's supposed to mean," Conor started weakening, Austin right there
in his face, "is..."


He trashed his experiment and went for the lips!


Coming off Conor's lips, Austin licked his own, contorted his mouth,
"That's your experiment? Hmm, pretty good."


It wasn't, but Conor was happy of the outcome. Sure, it would have been
fun, Austin rubbing against, all to prove that his fur was not part of why
his bud was attracted to him.


Maybe it was a dumb idea anyway!


"So, my experiment worked?"


At least Patrick knocked this time, before happening on the two lads, "Oh,
I suppose you two lost your appetite for food?"


Austin jumps off the bed, a misplaced hand pushing off Conor's stomach,
"Nothing happened, really Mr. O'Connor."


Smiling, he says, "It's Patrick, remember?"


"Oh yeah."


"So, are you two still into leeching dinner off me?"


"Oh, I don't have to pay for myself?" Austin says.


Conor says to that, "You think my dad's a cheapo?"


"I dunno. I don't know your dad."


Patrick stands there, thinking, by the smug lips, smile, then dead silence,
`is he flirting?'


"Well!" Conor bounds off the bed, "We better get a move on it, shall we,
junior?"


"I'll leave you two," Patrick closes the door behind himself.


Walking into the hallway, down to the end where the stairs were located, he
had a good feeling about things. Thinking his son deserved a break for a
change, he was glad he had chosen Austin.


Down the stairs, he thinks out loud, "If I were only a few years younger!"


Then his cell rang. A different message than moments ago, Nik called to say
he was still at the gym, but that he had gotten a call from a new client
who started today and invited him over to his house for a party, with an
open invitation for a significant other.


"Oh, so I'm reduced to a significant other now, Nik?"


Nik denied it, saying that was how Bart's invitation.


"I was headed right on out the door with Conor and his boyfriend."


Then Patrick had to explain how, in 24 hours he suddenly was ready to walk
to the altar.


"They are just friends at this point. Other than lying crotch to crotch on
the bed, nothing really has..."


Nik said it sounded serious.


"Would have been, if they didn't have the lower extremities covered!"


He laughed.


Nik laughed.


Patrick hung up, putting his cell in his pocket. He figured, to speed
things up, he'd put a call in, to upstairs. Going to the foot of the
stairs, he yells his lungs out, "You boys decent yet?"


Conor appears, right at the top, "You don't need to shout dad. Really?"


Then, something went by Austin, which he would bring up later, Patrick
saying, "Force of habit and I haven't done it in a long time, son!"


"I'm a changed man!"


Almost in his face, Patrick says, "Aren't we both glad of that!"


Though, there are still repercussions from a person being abused either
mentally or physically. They didn't know the full extent of it, but it's
one of the things which kept Austin and Conor feeling like blood brothers.


"By the way, I got a call from Nik..."


"Still stuck at the gym?" Conor replies.


"He was at the gym, but had gotten a call from a client. He and I are
invited to a party at the client's house. He said there will be boys your
age there, so if you want to catch something quicker and head on over
there?"


For a couple of years now, Patrick has allowed Conor to make his own
decisions, since he had had enough psychological therapy.


"Some guys our age, huh?"


It dawned on Austin, "I wonder if they are from our school?"


Even though a half hour ago, he felt he was on the steps to matrimony,
Conor would look forward to some playing around, with other dudes, "Might
be a good way to get to know some of the other students?"


Could be, but Austin would really feel uncomfortable, "I think I'll pass."


"What do you mean you pass?" Conor asks, arm over his bud's shoulder,
giving him a hug.


"I'm not really big on parties."


"Me neither," Patrick replies.


"Good," Conor breaks his hold over Austin, "then why don't you two go to
the club and when you get bored, you can come over to the party?"


He walks out the door, then walks back in, "Oh, I need the directions to
where it's at?"


"You're just going to go off and leave me here?" Austin questions.


"Don't worry. Dad doesn't bite!"


After the second time he's closed the door, Austin stands there, "That was
quick."


He took to sitting on an arm of a chair, again the dispirited appearance.


"Well, it looks like it's me and you?"


It seemed a little unreal, Conor going off like that, especially since,
apparently, saying he loved him.


Then he wasn't sure, "Can I ask you a question?"


"Long as it doesn't start with `mister'?"


"You and Nik, you're partners?"


Sitting on the arm of another bulky chair, like a cowboy, Patrick replies,
"We are."


"You're okay with him going to a party, which by all means looks like
there's going to be a lot of sex and you don't really care?"


"On the contrary. The reason I allow him to go, shows I do care."


"Hmm, well, I don't get that."


Getting up, Patrick says, "Well, my stomach's growling and I haven't eaten
since 1 o'clock this afternoon. Mind it we talk about this another time?"


"Sure, but before we go, can I ask one more question?"


"Fine."


"How old are you?"


"Thirty-four, and you?"


Not which Patrick didn't have a clue to what Austin's answer was going to
be, "Nineteen. You're okay, hanging out with a guy my age?"


"That's 2 questions. I granted you only 1!"


This made Austin smile. Going outside, getting in Patrick's car, he
wondered if his missed father-son years could have been like this. Conor
was so lucky to have a dad who cared about him!


%


Copyright 2016 T. Chase McPhee


"LoOkiNG FoR SoMEThiNG MOre" and developing segments of this story, may not
be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the
author, or you will be forced to your knees.