Date: Thu, 27 Mar 2008 17:00:30 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Adventures in Nature 17

The story below is a work of fiction, 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, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental
areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene
involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then
you should not read this story. Additionally, if you
are under 18 years of age, in most state and
countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by
law. Check with your local laws regarding such. %
Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction.
In real life, use protection.

%

"Adventures In Nature" 17
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Somebody's having fun!"

"Oh hi dads," Philip called out.

 Aidan added, "Oh yeah, 'hi'," rising up from the
hallway floor, dusting himself off.

"I guess you're wondering why we're doing the
vacuuming on a school day, huh?" Philip asks
dad-Barry, Steve rushing off to take a badly needed
'nature-break'.

"Actually," he shifts subjects, bending over, looking
at the slash marks on the wall, "looks more like
goofing off?"

"Um, yeah," Aidan tells him, as Philip and he stand
behind their dad, looking at the same thing he is.

Philip volunteers, "Sorry. We got into some
'snowboarding' on the carpets and..."

"Yeah, works pretty good," Aidan helps explain. "Want
to see?"

"Fun and games are one thing, but now who is going to
be the one to spackle and paint this wall?"

Seeing their fun was causing mischief, Philip and
Aidan point to each other, quickly saying, "It was his
idea!"

They were too cute to pursue any more reprimanding.
Besides, Barry was too tuckered out to do anymore
followup. "So tell me, why are you boys doing
Saturday's chores on Wednesday?"

Both showed signs of relief, getting off the hook,
Philip replying, "Don't you remember, dad?"

"Yeah. It's this Saturday," Aidan tells.

Approaching their dad, now that they are off the hook,
it seems like the bad finger is being pointed at him
and not the boys.

"What's this Saturday?"

"I can't believe you forgot!"

"Forgot what?" Steve asks, interrupting their
conversation as he tucks his shirt in around his
beltline.

Barry says, "Saturday, Steve?"

"Oh yeah. That's the day the kids are planting the
circle in town with flowers. Why? They change the date
or something?"

Like the kids were relieved, Barry was too when
thinking at least his other half kept up with things
going on around here!

"My turn," Barry said, shunning further badgering by
the boys, also feeling the urge to loosen the
floodgates.

"So, what's with the rugs?" Steve asks, standing there
in his gym shorts and Richlin High School tee shirt.

"Wanna see?"

"Sure," Steve was game, unaware Barry just busted
their chops over marking up the far wall of the long
hallway.

Taking a run, Aidan bellyflopped down on one of the
thick rag rugs, the force carrying him down the
hallway, only he never made it to the wall.

"Owwwww... ouch!"

"Ai?" Philip questioned as he and dad-Steve ran to see
the cause of his predicament.

Lying on his back, he rolled back and forth, his right
knee almost to his chest, hands around his kneecap.
Philip right away says, "I told ya you should have
told dad about it!"

After finding out about the on and off pain Aidan has
been having since the accident, didn't relieve the
pressure on his dad's concern.

"Why didn't you tell us about it? Muscle, bone and
tissue are nothing to fool around with, son" Steve
told Aidan, stretching his leg out, as Aidan rested
flat on his back.

"What's all the commotion?" Barry asks.

Steve's head took a double take, Barry standing there
in only his gym shorts, the bear bod staring him in
the face, dark hair rounding pecs, a mass covering
Barry's stomach, the swirl around his navel. Coming to
his senses, he reports, "Seems Aidan here has been
having problems with his knee, same one he injured in
the car accident."

"Is that so?" Barry replies as Philip stands there
taking it all in.

Being tough, Aidan says, "It doesn't really hurt."

"Is that so?" Barry asks, touching the thirteen year
old's knee on both sides.

"Owwww! Stop! Please!" Aidan screamed out, doing a
crunch.

"I guess I better march right back upstairs and
change," Barry said of Aidan's discomfort.

"What are you gonna do?" Philip asks.

Steve says, "A trip to the hospital, I presume."

"I'll be okay," Aidan pleads. "Let me lay here for a
minute and rest."

More of the story unravels as Philip pours out more
information, "You better go, Ai. You know it's been
bothering you for weeks."

"Shut up, Phil. If I'm in the hospital, how am I going
to help you guys plant the flowers?"

"Oh, that's right!" Philip puts two and two together
as well, cupping his hand over his mouth. "You know
what?" he directs at dad-Steve.

"What?"

"I think Aidan's starting to look better already!"

Even though in pain, Aidan managed to sport a smile,
along with his brother.

On to them, Steve replies, "It's not going to work
guys. Aidan here is going to the hospital and that's
that!"

"Bummer," both teens say.

When Barry shows up, Aidan looks at him and says, "I
don't need them!"

The three look up to see Barry holding the crutches
Aidan threw down, with his doctor's advice, a month
ago. Sometimes, no matter how much it hurts,
physically or mentally, dads need to let the kids
prove their own point.

"Okay. Then let's go?" Barry tells Aidan.

In major pain, Aidan squinted his eyes shut till they
wouldn't go anymore, his mouth opening wide to voice
his opinion of why it hurt to move his knee in any
direction.

"Forget those," Steve said, meaning the crutches.
Scooping him up in his arms, he said, "Good thing I
hit the gym seven days a week!"

Philip questions him, "But you don't go to the gym
dad-Steve."

He replies, "Power of positive thinking!"

Barry rolls his eyes as he opens the front door,
Philip holding it for them to pass through.

"Don't forget a jacket for Aidan," dad-Barry tells
Philip, knowing he was being included in their trek to
the hospital.

%

"You know, I haven't heard you complain as much as you
have been?"

"Umm."

"Want me suck you off again?"

"Your wearing me out Jules."

"I suppose," the twenty-five year old schoolteacher
replied.

Five days ago, they would have been twisted up into
some kind of Yoga stance, the two handcuffed together.
But now, on the verge of their sixth day in captivity,
Darryl was too tired mentally to do battle.

Not getting his way, thirsty for cock, Julian settled
for laying with his head on Darryl's chest, looking up
at him occasionally as he listened to his heartbeat.

"You know what?"

"You talkin' to me?" Julian replied, looking up at
him.

"Nobody else here, is there?" Darryl asks.

"Oh yeah. So what's up?"

"I've been thinking about things."

"Oh, you mean on how you're going to get even with
Riley?" Julian asks, his unattached hand flopping down
on the left side of Darryl's chest, painting a clear,
lazy circle around his left nip.

"No not that." After a few seconds, Darryl gulps,
confessing, "This is kind of tough for me to get out."

"Well go ahead and say it. Nobody here but me and
you!" Julian tells him, his hand freezing in place,
palm falling over and covering Darryl's smooth pec.

"What I wanted to say is..." he licked his lips one
more time, then got it out, "you're not too tough to
get a long with, you know?"

Julian agreed, but over the past few days, him trying
to get along with Darryl was one tough road to travel.
So, he dwelled more on Darryl's statement, saying, "I
can be easy." He realized then, his serious statement
came out to be one of the sleaziest in the book.

"So I found out."

"I didn't mean it 'that' way Darryl!" Darryl's smile,
the first one Julian has seen in the last four days
since Riley stole their freedom away, caused him to
lighten up as well. "I mean, being chained to you for
five days, I can't exactly get on gay.com, jump in my
car and go meet a trick!"

"Really? And I thought you were too refined for a
chatroom encounter?" Darryl replied.

"I've had a few in my lifetime."

There wasn't much for the two to do, especially after
trying to watch Tv, totally uncomfortable even on the
sofa. The only time they had some peace was lying flat
on their backs in bed. Either it was Darryl carrying
on with the top activity, or Julian swabing down his
bod with his tongue. In between they slept. However,
going on five days, fucking and sucking once in the
morning and once halfway through dinnertime, began
getting a bit monotonous. Another aspect, Darryl's
cock was getting 'raw'!

"When was the last time?" He went to place both hands
behind his head, only to curse out his wrist with the
cuff on it.

"You didn't mention Riley."

"Riley?"

"Um yeah, dah. Everytime you moved your cuffed wrist
you were cursing him out to holy hell!" Julian said
dramatically, this time safe enough to end it with a
smile.

"Yeah. I know."

"So why the mellow attitude, Darryl?"

Getting up the courage to admit it, Darryl tells him,
"You're not just a hot fuck, okay?"

"Oh?" Julian perked up like a puppy hearing
kibble'n'bits poured into his doggie bowl. "So, I do
mean more to you than forcing your timber up my ass
and going at it?" Launching his bod, he slid his bod
higher up Darryl's chest.

Darryl was wise to Julian, but in some respects
supposed some of what he said, was true. Looking down
at his palm on his left pec, Darryl says, "I kind of
like it when you spin your finger around my nip."

"Oh wow!" Julian replies facetiously. "And all along I
thought maybe it was the way I lick your balls, roll
your sacs around in my mouth or the way I take you
down my throat and hum, making you moan and groan in
ecstasy. How could I be such a stupid idiot!"

The only place Julian could go is to reposition his
bod, so he could assume a position in which he wasn't
looking into Darryl's face, which meant flipping his
bod over onto his back, his left arm across Darryl's
stomach.

Sitting up, Darryl told him, "Look, it's hard for me
to put it into words, so...."

Not trying to be a wiseass, Julian says, "Nobody ever
told you about sign language? Huh?" he looked up from
his flat-out-on-the-back position, eyes strained to
look over his head.

Easy enough, since Julian was already there, all it
took was for Darryl to slip down between Julian's arm.
Except for his arm still dividing their bods, it was
not so tough for him to slide his free arm under, take
Julian's head in his palm and force their lips
together.

Even though five days had nearly drained both their
balls desert-dry, pings shot through their loins,
feeling something they hadn't ever felt before.
Breaking off their kiss, the two lay there staring
into each other's eyes. Darryl's free hand was
anchored. Julian's had found its way to Darryl's
pubes.

"Got anymore seed left in here?"

"I thought you were tired of getting fucked?"

"Me? Get off it Darryl, it was you who said it.
Besides, this time it'll be different."

"Oh? How's that go?"

"You'll be fucking me like you mean it!"

Even a wider smile coursed Darryl's face, til he
leaned in and gave Julian an even sweeter kiss!

%

"Hoooow looooong are they going to be in there
dad-Steve?" Philip asked for the second time in
fifteen minutes.

Instead of dwelling on the same subject, producing the
same answer, he splintered off to, "So is everything
ready to go for the planting this Saturday? Mr.
Barberio all set with your plants?"

Still glum, Philip replies, "Ms. Duffy has everything
all arranged."

"Oh," is all Steve said, aware his diversion wasn't
going any kind of distance.

"But if Aidan can't make it, I'm not going either."

Almost as frustrated as Philip, Steve was at an
impasse to the problem.

"Hey! How's it going with Aidan?"

Exhaling, spelling relief, Steve thanked his lucky
stars Mark and Jose waltzed in the door.

"They're still looking at him with the camera," Philip
told the two.

"Well get this," Jose said excitedly, sitting next to
Philip, "not only is Mr. Barberio supplying the
plants, but he got his uncle, who is something like
the senior vice president of the Burger Farm chain to
provide us all with lunch! Isn't that cool?"

"Yep," is all Philip said. "Too bad Aidan and me won't
be there."

"Oh come on now," Steve turned to the twelve year old,
placing an arm around his shoulder. "None of us know
that for sure. I mean it's not like he's laid up in a
hospital bed." Casually Steve tells him, "Don't you
worry. We'll get Aidan there if we have to carry him
there ourselves!"

"You think so?" The desperate face looked up at his
dad.

Cutting Steve off, perhaps more of a blessing so he
didn't need to promise anything further, Mark comes
over, carrying a trio of soda cans. "Thirsty anybody?"

Counting three, Steve joked, "Good thing I gave up
caffeine!"

"Oh I'm sorry dad-Steve," Mark replied. "I could only
handle three."

"No problem. If you three can hold down the fort, I'll
just slip out to the cafeteria for a coffee."

Leave it to the kids, Philip picking up on it,
inquiring, "But didn't you say you gave up coffee,
dad-Steve?"

"Oh, did I say coffee? I meant tea!"

"Take it easy dad," Mark told him. "Don't worry. We'll
take care of the squirt!"

He whizzed out of the waiting room so he wouldn't have
to get anymore tongue-tied as it is!

For awhile the only form of conversation was
transmitted telepathically, though it seemed, Mark
exchanging glances with Jose, Jose with Mark, then
Philip with each of them.

Out of the clear blue, Philip asks, "Are you two going
to get married someday like our dads?"

Frozen in space, Jose and Mark eyed each other
squarely. Apparently Philip had no idea they weren't
even into that territory yet, barely past the dating
stage.

Searching the hospital cafeteria, Steve looked over
the tops of heads, around shoulders, a place where he
could sit for a few minutes peace. Seeing a lone
occupant of one table, he thought possibly talking the
guy into sharing. Small town Richlin's development in
the past few months gave way to new folks in town.
Plus, how many parents did Steve encounter at
parent-teacher meetings throughout the fifteen or so
years he taught in the school system.  He smiled when
he recognized the face, a colleague of one of his own
kin. "You're the fellow who works with Chad, right?"

In his condition, Tom Letterli's heartbreaking
troubles were enough for him to block out everyone but
his dear brother Kevin. "I'm sorry but I'm not all
that with it."

"I understand," Steve replied, a bit on edge on having
not received any information regarding Aidan. After he
set his coffee and donut down, he grazed his tee shirt
with his palm, then offered it up for greetings sake.
"Steve Clark."

"Clark? Oh, you must be Chad's father, though isn't
it...."

"Clark-Barr. Yes. I've been in the habit of the
singular for so long, all this partnering stuff threw
me a curve. You're Tom, right?"

Tom forced a smile, soon dying from his face. "Chad
has talked about the new business at the store?"

"Yes and actually he feels very comfortable with his
new business partner!"

It was just the shot in the arm Tom needed. Here, he's
been alternating his time between the cafeteria and
the glass window, a portal for those patient still in
the Intensive Care Unit. "I'll take that as a
compliment, thank you."

"So, what brings you here, Tom?"

"Oh God," Tom's demeanor instantly took a nosedive.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, no, no," Tom flitted away Steve's inquiry. "It's
just been a grueling day, trying to sort out things
regarding my brother's..." he didn't want to mention
the rape, nor torture Kevin went through, so left it
to, "unfortunate run-in with some undesirables."

"He hurt bad?" Steve inquired, sipping his coffee.

"Oh damn," Tom replied, his hands shielding his face
from breaking down in front of Steve.

Sweetly, Steve put it, "Whatever happened it won't go
away, but talking about it might lessen the burden?"

Still Tom rubbed his face, finally facing Steve, his
hands distorting his face so he looked like ten times
worse than he felt.

"Or can you tell me to mind my own damn business and
take a hike?" Ending his phrase with a smile, showed
Steve would not be offended.

"No. I mean.. I suppose I'll talk."

"Here, have a donut," Steve offered up the chocolate
covered one he hadn't touched.

Tom tried fending it off, but realised he's been
drinking so much liquid, he hadn't eaten anything
substantial. This would have to suffice. "Thank you."

"If you would like anything else, let me know."

"You're very kind. Now I know where Chad gets it
from."

Trying to keep his spirits high, Tom's story of how
Kevin was raped, tortured and left for road kill
brought Steve down, him terming the story
'unbelievable a thing like this could happen' in a
quiet community such as West Richlin.

"Unfortunately we can't escape society," Tom put it.
"It's just unfortunate Kevin had to be one of its
victims."

"Yes. There are many who pay the price."

"Am I interrupting anything?"

He wasn't your typical 'Eliot Ness', Josh Crew
standing there in a hoodie and baseball cap, sneakers
on his feet, the twenty-six year old detective looking
more like an Abercrombie ad. Both Tom and Steve have
had encounters in which they've come in contact with
him.

"Have a seat, Josh?" Steve offered.

"You know each other?"

Steve figured Josh must have been assigned to the case
pending with Tom's brother, so didn't pursue Josh
showing up off of his own turf.

Tom confirmed Steve's assumptions inquiring, "Have you
any more clues on the people who did this to my
Kevin?"

Seeing the love Tom had for his brother, it resembled
more a father-son relationship.

"We're working on it from a few angles, Tom. What I
came here to mention to you is this incident has
broken into the national news vein. Don't be surprised
if the media picks up on it."

"What are you saying, Josh?" Tom asks.

"I think what Josh is cluing you in on is beware for
the onslaught of reporters," Steve replied.

"Exactly," Detective Crew replied. He then remarked,
"Stuffy in here, isn't it?"

Much attention was paid to Josh's chest as he unzipped
the hoodie, the sides parting, revealing a rather
dark, sericeous mat of hair.

He smiled when it became obvious Tom and Steve were
watching.

Suddenly known he had been snagged, Steve hastily made
up the line, "Um, don't catch a cold, Josh. You never
know when a place like this will throw the air
conditioning switch!"

"I'll remember that Steve," the detective smiled.

However, all wasn't fun and games with Tom. Maybe in
another place, another time, Josh Crew's silky, hairy
chest would have given Tom some palpitations between
the legs.

"Got room for one more?"

It was Steve's turn to get 'even' per se, looking up,
seeing Ethan Keratis walk around the circular table,
Josh's eyes following him intently, til Ethan parked
his ass in the chair. "I'm starved! They have anything
on the menu that wouldn't make me get indigestion?"

Since Josh was still staring, Steve figured it was a
good time to kill the daydream, introducing the two.
Ethan shook hands and smiled, then diverted his full
attention towards Tom.

If one of them had telepathy they would be able to
read Josh's mind, his hazel eyes undressing Ethan as
he stood before the detective, also unclothed in the
bedroom reverie, crawling into bed with him.

"Josh, you awake?"

"Oh, sorry Steve. What was your question?"

Steve shook his head and just smiled as he said, "I
was saying I have to go. I'll see you around."

"Oh sure Steve. Um, hey, I should be going too." Then,
turning to Tom, Josh offers a hand, "Take care Tom. I
really hope things work out for you and Kevin."

Tom thanked him.

"And I suppose I'll be seeing you around," Josh
offered to Kevin, more of a smile attached to his
cordial farewell.

Playing it down, Ethen returned a subdued, "Take it
easy, detective."

When they stepped into the hallway, Josh - the flirt,
pulled his zipper of his hoodie outwards, before
upwards, mentioning to Steve, "I feel a chill, brr!
How about you?"

Onto Josh, Steve replies, "Yes it is a bit chilly in
here. Good thing some of us have enough 'fur' to keep
us warm, eh?"

Joking along, the detective says, "I'm a sharing
person, Steve."

"No thanks, Josh. I've got a nice bear to snuggle up
to at night!"

Breaking their frivolous playing, Philip comes running
down the hallway, yelling, "Guess what-guess
what-guess what dad-Steve?"

He knew it was some kind of good news.

"Aidan can go plant flowers on Saturday!"

"This one of yours?" Josh asks.

"Philip, this is Detective Crew."

"You're a policeman, right?"

Replying to Philip, he says, "I'm an arm of the law."

Kind of confused, Philip asks, "Which arm?"

%

"Hey, what about the pizza?"

"Later."

"Am I awake or dreaming?"

It was comical to see Maury standing there, pizza
cutter in hand, question his two live-in high school
boarders zipping up their hoodies, Jim flipping the
top over his head.

Catching Maury's drift, Connor suggests, "Okay, we'll
eat on the run. We've got something pretty important
to do."

Turning his attitude around, their thirty-eight year
old landlord put on a big grin, mocking the two,
"Another one of your hot high schooler orgies going on
tonight?"

Acting cool, Jim replies, "Maury, can you take your
mind out of the gutter for once and act human?"

As if ganging up on him, Connor says, "For your
information we're going to the hospital to see a
friend."

Getting the connection, Maury a guy who knows a lot of
information before even the press, replies, "Let me
guess. The fellow they brought in last night who was
raped, beaten and hidden under some brush up at the
environmental center?"

"Shit," Jim exclaims to Connor, "he knows more than we
do!"

"Why is that Maury?"

"Why's what?" the big bear asks, lifting his chin
towards the ceiling as he holds a slice of pizza by
the crust, allowing it drop down into his mouth.

"You know you're a pig?" Jim says, Connor paying Jim
no mind, asking? "The way you know stuff before word
ever gets around?"

Putting on a happy face, Jim reveals, "Oh, I bet I
know."

"Know what?" Maury suddenly gains composure.

"Here," Jim tosses about fifty napkins at him, "clean
your beard, you slob!"

After using three or four to erase the sauce from his
black beard, Maury again asks, "So what were you
saying, Jim?"

"Yeah, what were you saying, Jim?" Connor reiterates
as he pulls up the sleeve of his brown A&F hoodie,
looking to his watch.

"Oh nothing," Jim puts off Maury. "Nothing I can't
fill you in on later."

As the two walk away, a big hand reaches out and grabs
at Jim's hood.

"Hey! Get your fuckin' hands off!"

Connor can't help but giggle, watching Jim almost
getting strangled as Maury pulls him back into his
space.

"I have ways of making people talk," Maury threatens
him with the pizza pie cutter.

"Watch your balls," Connor warns Jim.

"Watch your own!" Jim says, a hand sucker punching
Maury between the legs.

Letting up on Jim, Maury holds his jewels with both
hands, slightly bending over, his head pointed
upwards, mouth round as a basketball hoop, moaning in
pain, "Owwwwwww... you son-of-a..."

Light-heartedly, Connor, like Jim, having no regrets
for the dastard deed, tells his lover, "At least he
has respect for your mom!"

"Why? If he said his mind, he'd be telling the truth
anyway," Jim takes a jab at his own family member, one
of two of his parents who didn't care a damn about him
after Jim informed them he was gay.

"Never mind, okay Jim?" Connor cozied up to him.
"Let's just go?"

"Yeah. Sure. Sorry I took out your balls," Jim
apologizes to Maury.

"No problem," Maury said back to him, seemingly fully
recovered. "It didn't hurt much anyway."

Connor came back with, "You're a real actor, Maury."

As the two headed out the kitchen door, Jim turned
back and hinted, "Oh by the way, when we were almost
to the house, I saw Detective Crew pull out of the
driveway... just thought you would like to know!" Jim
winked with a smirk on his lips.

Maury gave Jim the evil eye knowing he was the only
one home at the time!

%

Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.