Date: Sat, 17 Nov 2007 16:54:14 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Adventures In Nature 02

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" 02
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee


%

"I tell you... that man can sure sing up a storm!"
Michael Byrd says, rising out of his pew as Justin
toils at the organ, playing J.S. Bach's `Prelude and
Fugue in d minor'.

"Yup," Kevin agrees, his attention on a side door of
the church, an exit where people are honing in on as
they get up and make their exit. "Say," he taps
Michael on the shoulder, getting his attention, "do
you think that door goes to where the ice tea is?"

"Wasn't it you who wanted to sit in the back to make a
quick getaway?" Michael questions.

"I dunno," Kevin tells him, heading up the center
aisle, instead of towards the rear exit. "I see some
people I say hello to during the week at Barrs &
Bridges, but I don't know their names. Maybe we can
get to know them."

"Whatever you say, dear," Michael says with a smile,
seeing Kevin's attention grabbed by the guy in front
of them.

Already, Kevin is offering a handshake, as he greets
the brown-haired guy, directly in front of his pecs,
"Hi. I'm Kevin Spangler."

Turning around, arm accidentally brushing against
Kevin's chest and stomach, their `stranger' shows a
look of question. Michael, blown away by the handsome
features of the stranger, shows an equal sense of
misplacement, the familiarity of his face.

"Alac Davalos and it is good to know you, also," the
stranger offered, with a Hispanic flair.

"French?" Kevin asks, as their palms grasp each other
with the cordial introduction.

"My guess is, Spanish?" Michael inquires, his arm to
the right side of Kevin's bicep, readying to intercept
the friendly greeting. "Michael Byrd. Remember?"

"You two know each other?" Kevin asks, releasing
Alac's hand.

With Michael reading the confusion on Alac's face, he
clues both his lover and the Spainiard in, "We met
about a month ago? Bridges' Realty office ring a
bell?"

"Yes. You have a good memory," Alac replies, lightly
squeezing Michael's hand, a toothy grin lighting up
his face.

In his mind, Michael was thinking, `I never forget a
goodlooking man', but instead offered, "As I recall,
you forgot your checkbook?"

"Mr. Bridges was gracious to hold a building to rent,
for a few days. Come to find out," Alac reported, "I
had either lost my checkbook or left it at home."

Kevin inquires, "And just whereabouts is home?"

"I am originally from Navarra. Have you heard of
Pamplona?" Alac quizzes the two.

As Kevin shrugs his shoulders, to signify `no',
Michael casually responds, "Can't say that I have."

"In Spain. I attended the University of Navarra, but
then learned of an exchange program with WRCC. To make
a long story shortened, I am now making my home here,
since I am graduating. For now, home is the dorm,"
Alac replied, with a smile, turning up the corners of
his thin stache, after his mouthful of words.

"So," Michael fed the conversation as he and Kevin
corralled Alac's attention, leading him towards the
`ice tea room', "you were interested in renting the
old Tolbert's department store?"

"Yes," Alac replies, "with intent to purchase."

Intending on getting more out of Alac, the male couple
got sidetracked, when Christian spotted the two,
surprised at seeing them at church.

"When's the last time `you' guys were in church?"
Christian asked, directing towards Kevin and Michael,
but his attention geared to the new guy.

"Who, me?" Alac asked, since Christian caught the
trio's attention.

"I meant Michael and Kevin, but..." Stuffing the last
crumb of oatmeal cookie in his mouth, Christian
brushes his hand on his thigh, to remove any residue,
on his dress jeans, and stretches his flat palm
sideways, saying, "I don't believe we've met.
Christian Houtenjik's the name."

"Dutch?" Alac offers in return.

"I was born there, but don't speak the language,"
Christian replied, giggling.

Michael intervenes, as Kevin heads for the goodies
table, "This is Alac Davalos. He'll be setting up shop
in the old Tolbert's building."

"Nice to meet you," Christian responds. Being new to
town, he only pictured the Tolbert building as
white-washed window glass, but didn't make an issue of
it, as Alac grabs his palm. "Welcome!" Christian
exclaimed, adding his smile, a part of his features
worth remembering.

Smiling back, Alac didn't immediately release
Christian's hand, as he stared.

"Um, can I have my hand back, please?"

"Oh, I am so sorry."

"No problem," Christian says, cheerily.

"I better go check up on Kevin. Don't want him woofing
down everything on the table!" Michael politely
excuses himself, seeing his future as a `third wheel',
regarding the two.

Bounding across the floor, Michael sidesteps between
church-goers. Before he reaches the banquet table,
Tony corners him, as he steps by Steve and Barry,
exchanging `hellos'.

"Thank you for coming to see me!" Tony ecstatically
greets him with a warm hug, fencing him in the stable
of his arms. "What do you think?"

Breaking, he gives Michael a chance to breathe. "Like
I was telling Kevin, you sound like Pavoratti's twin
brother."

"Luciano had a twin? News to me," Tony says, a
question on his face.

"No, no, no... I was using it as a reference... for
your awesome tenor voice," Michael spits out.

Responding with another hug, Tony clears the subject
slate, saying, "Oh by the way, do you remember you
talked to me regarding one of my workmen's utility
belts?"

"Sure. I think it was Mike's?" Michael remembered.

"I have it in my car. Mike broke down and invested in
a new one, so he gave me the old one. It's yours, if
you would like to have it," Tony offers.

"Sure," Michael said. "I'll take it off your hands
now, if you would like?"

Parting company with the hundred or so parishers, the
two head out of the side door, to the parking lot.

"They put on a nice spread, don't they?"

Looking around, Kevin made sure the question was
directed to him, as he held a small paper plate,
loaded up with a square of cheesecake, cookies piled
on top, a chocolate chip cannoli wedged in on the side
of the cake, a paper cup of ice tea in his other hand.
Thinking he knew the young man, he asks, "You're
Antonio, bakery manager at Barr's & Bridges, right?"

"That's me," Antonio tells. "How's the cannoli?"

"I haven't gotten to it yet," Kevin replies.

"Here, try it. They're real good," Antonio says,
picking up another rolled tube of the  fragile, flaky
pastry, lifting it to Kevin's lips.

Thinking Antonio a bit forward, he didn't want to
embarrass the twenty-six year old latino, so opened
his mouth and chomped off half of the ricotta-stuffed
tube, taking the remainder in his own hand.

"Like it?"

Nodding his head up and down, Kevin smiled as he
chewed it up, swallowing it down with a sip of ice
tea. "I have to admit, it's the best cannoli I've ever
tasted."

"Same thing I told Ivan, when he talked me into
carrying them at the store," Antonio mentions.

"Ivan?" Kevin asks, thinking he's heard the name
before.

"Petrov. Ivan Petrov."

"Yes, yes," it dawns on Kevin, "I think Michael has
mentioned his name."

"Michael?" Antonio quesitons.

"Michael Byrd? Owner of Birdy's Cafe? Um, my better
half?"

Of all the facts, Antonio zeroes in on one, stating,
"Oh, I thought you were single, Kevin. I'm terribly
sorry about the cannoli... I thought..." His light tan
shows the tint of embarrassment.

"Eh, think nothing of it. It tasted good. Besides, I'm
not used to being fed by... it's not important." To
help Antonio escape from his guilt, Kevin asks, "So,
tell me about Ivan Petrov and his cannolis. How does a
Russian guy make such a good Italian dessert?"

"Actually, he's the middle man. As I understand it,
his cousin, Vitaly makes the goods and he pedals
them," Antonio offers, with relief. "I followed him
out to his car one time. The back was loaded with
goods. Nice of him to give me a sampling."

"Car, you say?" Kevin asks, followed by a short-lived
giggle.

"Yes. One of the things which made me reluctant to
purchase his goods. It was a late 80's Chevy Malibu,
more rust than paint. However, after tasting a few
samples of his deserts, he could've been driving a
Model T and it wouldn't have mattered," Antonio
explains.

"I see," Kevin replies, wheels of motion churning
inside his brain, with an idea of a way to expand his
business.

%

"Knock-knock... alright if I come in?"

Looking up from their conversation, Denis and Jose
direct their attention to the guy pounding on the open
door with his knuckles.

"Then again, I suppose I've already invited myself
in," he says, entering with a faux-leather, Nike
backpack slung over one shoulder. Then, eyes jutting
between the two, he asks, "Ah, which one of you are
Denis Clark?"

"Me," Denis replies, a short hand-raise.  A slight
tingling sensation persists under his hospital
garment, as he beholds the handsome guy.

"Julian Bergne," he holds his hand out. "Your father
engaged my services, to hopefully guide you through
the last month of high school, in hopes of having you
graduate."

"So you're the infamous Julian Bergne?" Jose blurts
out.

Over his still extended right shoulder, Julian
inquires, "And you are?"

Physically manhandling Julian's right, brown-haired
forearms, Jose tears his hand away from Denis, taking
it in his right hand, offering, "Jose Vega. Darryl
Tudyk's `little brother'? Darryl has mentioned you a
few times."

"Good things, I hope," Julian replies, hoping the
facts surrounding their friendship hadn't leaned too
far towards the `sexual' aspect.

Looking towards Denis, Jose kept his comments brief,
even though he could have told the whole tale of how
the two men had been introduced to each other. "Sure.
You and Darryl are good friends, the way I hear it."

"Same," Denis agrees.

"Well. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, how
about we settle down to some school work. Okay if we
start with some english?" Julian asks, as Jose dumps
his ass back into his handicapped chair and zips out
of the room.

Taking up Jose's chair, Julian whips the wheeled bed
table over to where the two are seated. "Now I know
this can be lower..." he says, fidgeting with a button
on the one-sided leg.

"I know from experience," Denis suggests,
commandeering the bed table, "if you are not careful,
you can get a nasty pinch in trying to lower it.

"Looks like you're a pro at it," Julian said,
attention keyed to more Denis, than the table.

"I know because I drew blood, the first time I tried
making it higher. Defeated the whole purpose, when it
dropped down, instead of raising up. There. That
okay?"

"Fine," the twenty-five year old tutor exclaimed,
smiling, trying to hide the fact he had been staring
at the blond teen. He unzipped the backpack,
retrieving two books, notebook and a rectangular
cardboard box of Bic pens, taking out the necessary
supplies, yet providing a creative diversion.

However, Denis' immediate attention wasn't on english,
as he turned the tables on Julian, now checking him
out. "I hope you don't mind me saying this..."

"What?" Julian asks, gesturing to go ahead.

"I think Darryl has good tastes in men."

With a smile, Julian replies, "I think we better focus
on the reason I'm here."

"Sorry," Denis replies, then adds, "It's just that...
nah, forget it."

Opening the textbook, Julian lets the cover flap
close, as he asks, "No, go ahead. Let's hear it, so we
don't have intermingling thoughts during the lesson."

"Well," Denis leads back into the subject, "I've been
thinking what a nice guy Darryl is, taking an interest
in me, while I'm not feeling my best and how
supportive you were when Darryl needed a shoulder to
lean on. It's ironic how life can be. I guess what
they say `what goes around, comes around', is really
true."

Julian left his reply subtle, saying, "Yes, well..."
then pawing through the pages of the english text,
says, "I spoke with your teacher and he says......" he
flips through about fifty pages, "this is makeup work
and..." flipping another fifty pages, "this is
material to be covered within the next two weeks. Mr.
Dugan hinted to me the exam will be mostly from these
one hundred pages."

"Heavy," Denis replied, "looks like we've got a lot to
go through."

"And remember,  I'm only here to instruct you. The
rest is homework," Julian tells.

"How long do I have to complete homework?"

"I'll try to make it back tomorrow afternoon. Usually,
on Monday's, there are mandatory teacher meetings, but
I might be able to get out of it. If not, I will see
you Tuesday, around four o'clock."

"One more question," Denis asks.

"Sure."

"It's not about the school stuff."

With his hand fanning out over the text, Julian keys
his attention towards Denis, saying, "I really think
we should isolate the personal from schoolwork. Hmm?"

Shooting it back into Denis' court, the eighteen year
old replied, "Okay. I was just curious, that's all."

The mention of his curiosity, now provoked Julian into
a whim of curiosity! Giving in, he says, "Alright. One
last question and then that's it."

"It's really more general than personal," Denis said,
giving Julian another chance to pursue or drop the
subject.

"Get it off your chest, if it's bugging you."

"Okay," Denis resigned himself, stating, "Darryl says
he and you broke up..."

"Broke up?" Julian interjected, news to him, since he
was still seeing Darryl.

"Yeah," Denis replies, not getting the reference,
"Darryl said you broke up because you were not
interested in developing a relationship. What I was
wondering is your opinion? Do you think a lot of young
guys are into other guys for just sex?"

It's a good thing Denis had achieved lowering the
table, setting the two apart. Underneath, Julian's
privates responded to more than the `english' part of
the tutoring. A mix of the awesome encounters he has
had with Darryl, plus the picture-perfect image of the
young, blond teen in front of him, made his mouth
water. Taking down a gulp of spit, Julian referred in
general, "I think it really depends on the individual
preferences of how a couple perceives their
relationship."

Not meaning to revert back to the personal nature,
Denis slips and asks, "Oh, so like Darryl says, you
were into.... um, not into developing anything more
permanent?"

Thinking about it, Julian wondered where all this was
leading. It piqued his interest, rather then stifle
his emotions. His mind already immersed in the sexual
aspect, especially pertaining to his oral action,
verses Darryl's anal retribution, the tutor had a
tough time reverting back to the english lesson. At
the same time, Julian sensed a bit of embarrassment,
at having developed a relationship, born out of only
the casual sex. His crotch buildup added no relief, as
he tried to formulate thoughts in his mind, separating
his previous encounters with Darryl and sticking to
Denis' interrogation. At the same moment, the whole
issue was clouded by the fact of still having the more
than occasional fling with Darryl, being careful not
to divulge too much, which would lead to him
confessing all to Darryl's teenaged lover. At this
point, the rude awakening occured, driving Julian's
brain back into focus.

"Is this all coming to a point, Denis? I mean, why do
you want to know so much about... about `us'?"

Feeling he has in some way stepped over his bounds,
Denis searches within the nooks and crannies of his
own mind, finding anyway to explain his way out of not
trying to embarrass Julian. "Well, um... ah, so..."
Then the perfect reason came to the surface, as he
relayed, "...so... when Darryl and I do decide to...
um, do it, I'd like to know what pleases him."

"Pleases him? Like how do you mean that?" Julian knew
he was reading Denis right, but then the testosterone
churning around in his balls, made him switch back to
erotic thoughts. Yet, he eluded to, "Oh, you mean like
what he likes to order when he goes out to a
restaurant?"

"Well-l-l-l-l... not exactly." Then, refocusing Denis
inquires, "Did you ever go out to a restaurant with
Darryl? I mean if you and he were only into... you
know..."

By now, Julian's hand had left the text, it flopping
close. He had a flashback to the first time they met
in a bar, but other then barhopping, the two never
ventured further than Darryl's bedroom. Finally, he
glanced over to the table, as he assembled his
thoughts, once more viewing the english text. It was
tough trying to revert to the reason he had been
hired, as his hard shaft vied for expansion, shoved up
against the underside of the table. It's then he also
realized Denis, left-handed, holding the pen over the
table, tapping lightly on the notebook, waiting for
more conversation, his other hand in his lap.

"What?" Denis says, eyes shooting down to the gown
covering the outline of his massive teen erection.
"Oops!" he replies, as his hand accidentally strokes
the side of his barrel, causing release, a dime-sized
value of cum forming against the flannel surface.

"You know, Denis, I think we should have this out for
once and for all?"

"Have it out?" Shrugging his shoulders, Denis replies,
"I know about you two... meeting at a bar... going
back to Darryl's house for sex. Like he said, you were
only into it to make each other feel good. What more
is there to tell?"

"Can I be honest with you?"

"I thought you were, Mr. Bergne," Denis replies, a
tinge of uneasiness surfacing, his hand straying from
his lap.

"Julian," Julian tells Denis, as if correcting him,
but more suggesting calling him by his first name.
Knowing he had to treat this delicately, pending
Denis' mental situation, he couldn't think of any
better way of doing it, but coming straight out with
the facts of the matter. "The truth is, I'm still
seeing Darryl."

"it's okay," Denis shakes it off. "No reason why you
can't still be friends."

"No. You don't get it. I'm still seeing Darryl, like
coming to his house," Julian spelled it out.

"Oh, I know," Denis says nonchalantly, adding, "What I
hear from Darryl, you two have a special friendship.
I'm really happy Darryl has somebody, on the outside..
I mean, other than me, stuck in here, to talk with."

At first, Julian didn't know what to say, blotting the
sweat on his brow with his hand. Then, approaching the
subject from the clinical view, Julian tells him, "You
see, Darryl hasn't been dealing with this.... you
being in the hospital, very lightly..."

"Of course," Denis cut him off, then rationalized, "I
would think a guy loving another guy... to see him in
the hospital, has got to hurt."

A pause gave Julian time to reorganize his thoughts.
"Denis, I don't mean to upset you, but the night they
brought you into the hospital..." he waited to make
sure he had Denis' full attention, yet still remained
a hundred percent indecisive about bursting the teen's
`love-bubble', took a deep breath, as he told, "Darryl
was feeling real lousy..."

"I know. He told me. He said he worried about me way
after he went home. He said he had to take a sleeping
pill to help him go to sleep," Denis said, recalling
his conversation, the day after.

It put Julian in a quandary, whether to expose the
truth or let the teen believe a lie. "That's not
entirely how it went that night."

"What do you mean?"

"Sure, Darryl was upset. I ran into him in the
hospital parking lot. Denis, I don't know how else to
put this to you, but the truth. I tried to refuse him,
but Darryl...." he didn't want to use the word,
`begged', so eluded to, "said he could use some
company."

"So? Isn't that what friends are for?"

Taking a longer than usual inhale, Julian unloaded,
"Denis, I went home with Darryl."

"What do you mean you went home with him? Darryl said
he was home alone. He even said he wished I was there
with him," Denis said, with an edge, as he pressed his
arms to the sides of the chair, tensing his bod.

Knowing he was in the thick of it, Julian proceeded,
"Denis," Julian said, rising out of his seat, putting
a hand on Denis' shoulder, "I think it's best you know
the facts."

Staring up at the six foot, twenty-five year old,
Denis' facial features frowned upon what he was about
to hear, but still showed provocation, probing for the
truth. "What do you mean?"

"Denis," Julian hesitates for a brief interval, then
pours out, "that night and every night since then,
I've been visiting Darryl's house... slept in his
bed."

"What the fuck?" Denis says, his swimmer-worked arms
pressing against the sides of the chair, his six foot
height elevating him to stand face to face with his
tutor.

"I'm sorry, but somebody's gotta tell you before it's
too late."

"You're lying," Denis accuses him. "You just want
Darryl for yourself!"

A bit perturbed, Julian says, "Denis, you already know
there's nothing between Darryl and I. To him, I'm just
another tight ass to fuck!"

With his adrenaline peaking, plus listening to facts
he hasn't cared to believe, Denis began freaking out.
Lashing out, at the person partially responsible for
his actions, it's Julian who took the hefty punch to
his gut, powered by the teen's high-strung emotions,
equal to that of a prizefighters delivering.

"Ugggh!" Julian groaned, clutching his solar plexus,
as his knees caved in.

"Whoooooa... whoa...whoa, buddy... wanna put that
down?"

To Julian's advantage, as well as Denis', it became
their luck to have Tony Gagliardi step back in, a bag
of burgers in his hand, as the raging teen stood above
the teacher, metal chair in hand, ready to use it as a
weapon.

Not immediately seeing it, at Tony's exclamation,
Julian cocked his head, looking upwards, a hand still
feeling up his tender stomach. "Denis, put it down,"
Julian suggests, in between still catching his breath.


"I'll put it down alright. I'll fuckin' put it down
right on your fuckin' head!"

As if running the diving board, Tony drops the bag of
burgers and darts across the room, manhandling the
chair, as Denis decides to fling it over his head,
shouting, "Easy... I don't think you really want to do
that!"

"What the hell's going on in... hey, you wanna put
that chair down, cowboy?" Jack renders, directing his
comment to Tony.

"Sure, but it's not me you have to worry about,
`cowboy'!" Tony throws back at Jack Collier, nurse on
duty.

Taking the chair from Tony, Jack's not impervious to
the beefy swimmer's build hiding underneath the tank
top, but with more dire circumstances, he questions,
"So, somebody want to clue me in on what the fu-hell
is going on in here?"

Backing off, Denis has turned to a small corner of the
room, staring at the two intersecting corners,
sniffling. Tony follows Denis, as Jack inquires of
Julian, helping him to his feet.

"Denis-buddy... you okay?" Tony asks, placing a hand
on his shoulder.

Punching his shoulder forwards, he makes Tony's hand
flop off, as he nastily remarks, "Get your fuckin'
hand off me. Get the fuck outta here. I don'want any
of you fuckin' bastards here. Why don'you all just
fuckin' leave me alone?"

"Um, you a doctor or something?" Tony asks Jack,
turning back to the blue-outfitted dude.

"Nurse. But I don't have to be a surgeon to tell he
needs help and fast. I'll be right back. Don't let him
go anywhere."

Tony, his mind still on Denis, his eyes followed the
tight nurse's uniform, clinging to his ass, til the
door obscured his vision.

Shoveling the books back into his back pack, Julian
says, "I think I better go. I've done enough damage
for one day."

Leaving Denis' backside, Tony addresses Julian,
accusing, "Oh, so you're the asshole who set him off,
are you?"

"Excuse me?" Julian says, looking at his shoulder, the
place where Tony has grabbed at the fabric binding his
bicep, curling it up in his fist.

Letting him go, Tony replies, "I want to know what you
did."

"What I did? I'll tell you what I did. Stopped him
from becoming a teenage statistic in the
`broken-hearts club'. Now excuse me. I have a bigger
problem to deal with."

"Whoooooa! Where you think you're going?" Tony calls
out, upon intercepting Denis, as he's about to follow
Julian out of the room.

Of course a scuffle evolved, Tony doing the only thing
he knew how, to keep Denis from bolting from the room,
going after Julian. Throwing his arms around the
fellow swimmer, encasing him in the prison of his
beefy biceps, he tries to calm him, "Whoa there,
Denis-bud, the nurse-dude said for you to stay put!"

"Good! Exactly where we want him," Jack belts out, as
two attendants accompany him into the room, one with a
injection, all primed and ready to stick in Denis'
arm.

"Owch!" Tony called out, when he received an
accidental knee to the balls, during the fracas.

"Tough luck, cowboy!"

"Don't worry," Tony turned to Jack, as he helped hold
Denis, applying a bearhug, "you'll get yours!"

With the two hospital staff doctoring Denis, knowing
the teen would be subdued by sleep, he focused on the
swimmer-jock. With his mind free to think, Jack's
gaydar kicked in, picking up some hefty vibes,
shooting straight down his bod, into his balls.

"What's with Denis, Jack?" Jose asks, almost butting
his handicapped chair into Jack's thigh.

"This..." Jack smiled. Before proceeding, sure of his
intuition, Jack responds to Jose, pointing to Tony,
"This 'hunk' must've said something to him!"

Smiling, Tony's thinking, `Hunk? Mmmmmmm!'

%

Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.