Date: Sun, 6 Jan 2008 17:18:17 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Adventures In Nature 08

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" 08
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Well?"

"Well what?" Julian asks.

Lying across the width of the bed, one arm stretches
above his head, to accomodate Darryl's left wrist.

Standing there, Darryl ponders their dilemma, arms at
his sides, as he bawls Julian out, "I can't believe
you. Here we are, chained together like two common
criminals and..."

Switching in midflight, Julian interjects, "He was
right, you know?"

"Who?"

"Riley, idiot!"

"About what?" Darryl questions, wondering what part of
the discussion.

"Oh, I'd say just about everything," Julian replies,
nonchalantly.

Next thing y'know he's screaming in pain as Darryl
hauls him off the bed, his ass hitting the
shag-carpeted floor. It was almost like revenge, as
like Darryl's own words described, Julian `taking
matters easy'!

"Oh shit!" Darryl exclaims as he's yanked off his
feet, falling right on his face, his bod running
lengthwise across Julian's bod.

Whimsically, Julian says, "Um, when I'm in the mood
it's like heaven, but right now your pubes are kind of
smothering me?" his voice muffled by a flabby cock and
set of smooth balls, breaking his breathing pattern.
Doing a pushup Darryl looks underneath himself,
Julian's finger in his mouth, retracting it as he
observes, "I think I ate one of your hairs!"

Rolling back on his knees, then to his ass, by learned
experience, careful not to tug at his left arm, Darryl
seriously says, "You know, we have a real problem here
and you're treating this..." he takes a deep breath,
"treating this like it's nothing! I mean, didn't you
hear Riley?"

"Sure. I was with you the whole time. How could I not
have?" Julian replies, sort of upbeat.

"Like, what's going to happen when I don't show up for
duty?" Then, an index finger pressed against the
center of Julian's brown-haired pecs, pounded lightly,
dead center, as Darryl continues, "More, what's going
to happen when `you' don't show up at school this
morning?"

Of course Julian, who picked up on every detail
rendered by Riley, states, "Um, did you miss the part
about the botulism?"

"No. So? What's that supposed to mean?"

"What it means is, Riley's got our asses covered, when
we don't show up for work."

Darryl, thinking he's clever, tells, "Only one flaw
with that."

"Oh? What's that?" Julian questions, as Darryl's palm
still rests on his chest.

"I'm not calling out! That will make them wonder."
With a smile of confidence, he states, going back to
his index finger pressing the point,  "Yup. When I
don't show up, they are sure to send a squad car out
to check up on me!"

"You think so, do you?" Julian said, all along
thinking of the possibilites of Riley being in `that'
squad car and reporting back `his story' or perhaps
Riley passing on the message, `Darryl too sick to even
pick up the phone', relaying his absenteeism to their
superiors.

"Yep and when `you' don't show up, I'm sure you'll be
missed," Darryl states.

"You're so sure of yourself, huh?" Julian said,
looking upon the face which gloated with confidence.

"You bet."

"Well then," Julian says, thoughts of the possibilty
it could be a very long morning, waiting it out, til
they are both missed, says, "I guess there's nothing
for us to do, except carry on... we might as well get
some breakfast in us!"

"First I need a shower," Darryl says, his right hand
pressing on the floor to get up, already conscious of
the metal cuff restraining his left wrist, the pull to
Julian's cuffed wrist.

"Right. We both kind of reek of mansex."

It was awkward, but they both made it to their feet,
this time Darryl `helping', instead of `heaving'. When
standing, their bods came within inches of each other,
Darryl taking the upper hand, leading them towards the
jon. Entering, Julian's crotch decides he needs some
morning relief.

"Owww, Julian!" Darryl calls out, wincing in pain.

"I gotta take a leak," Julian informs him, after the
fact, his left hand fingers coiled around the chain
part of the cuffs, halting their procession, as if a
dog on a lead.

"Did you think of telling me first instead of almost
ripping my hand from my body?" Darryl complains.

"Had to pee too badly," Julian offered as an apology.
With his right hand already around his barrel he let
go of the hot stream. Bound together, all Darryl could
do is stand there. "Thirsty?" Julian asks, catching
Darryl glancing at him.

"You know, you're so gross?"

Reliving the past, Julian tells him, "Y'know, one time
in college it was this guy's birthday. We all got him
to go to the shower and pissed on him to wish him good
luck!"

Thinking it the funniest thing in the world, Julian
let out a wailing cry of laughter, as if still that
college fratboy from years before.

Like tasting something bad Darryl showed it on his
face as he said, "That's the grossest thing I've ever
heard of! You guys are sick! C'mon," Darryl jerked the
chain, "time's up."

"Wait! I got a few last drops to....."

Taking the helm, Darryl dragged Julian over to the
shower stall, a few drops of tinkle, cast upon the
carpet.

%

"Is this college regulation?" John asks.

The sign, hitting anyone in the face upon entering the
dorm jon, read, `Save water... shower together'.

"Nah. Some wiseguy hung it up a coupla days ago," Kev
replies. "However, being the conservative I am, I
strongly suggest we not break the rule!"

No different than last time, sign or no sign, the two
found their way into an empty shower cubicle, John
thinking over Kev's `conservative' remark.

Sticking his head into their stall, drawing the
plastic curtain to the side, Matt Drijver asks, "Hey,
you guys need any... um, help?"

Reaching up, taking the top of the gray curtain in
hand Kev counteracts the pull, replying, "No, that's
okay, Matt. I think we can handle it," cutting off
Matt's stare-down of John.

"Oh," Matt replies, with disappointment, one foot
intruding, stepping over the tiled division, the
plastic division clinging to his wet bod. "Okay...
later."

As Kev turns his attention back to John, the water
casting down between them, he simply asks, seeing the
reaction on John's face, "What?"

"Oh nothing. Not being a college guy I guess I'm not
up on all the stuff that goes on in a dorm."

"Like what?" Kev asks, wanting John's opinion of what
was running through his head, regarding Matt's
intrusion.

"You know," he states his opinion based on the
incident, "hot guys inviting themselves into a guy's
private domain? I mean, if a guy isn't tied down to
one particular person I suppose anything could
happen!"

"Um, like what are you driving at here, John?"

"Oh, it's not like I'm accusing you of anything Kev.
I'm just going on the discussion my high school buds
and I had about college life."

"Oh?" Kev replied, taking the soap up in his hands,
lathering it up on his pecs til it drips suds. "And
how would that go?"

"Got enough there?" John asks, Kev passing the soap to
him. "Well, my friends... um, not really, really
close, but `in the circle', found out a lot of guys do
kinky stuff."

Now, this really interested Kev, being a student at
WRCC for two years. He's heard of some weird things
going on at guy-parties when the consumption of too
much beer has been known to cloud reality. Listening
to John was like comparing notes.

"And so?"

"Oh, stuff," John left it, adding as he turned his
back to Kev, "uh, while you're at it could you do my
back?"

With a smirk across his face, Kev's right hand
caressed the bar of soap as his left hand rode John's
torso. Kev stood there still pondering over the
buildup John gave him, only to let him down.

"Ah, anytime you want to soap me up, Kev. It's not
like we're `not' on a schedule here. Like, you know
how Tom can get riled up, if anybody's late and..."

Reaching around John, Kev swiped the soap quickly
across the high school senior's chest, than pinned
both arms behind his back.

"What tha?" John said, looking to an arm controlling
each of his limbs, pressing back, forcing the front of
his bod to forge forward.

"I'll let you go, when you decide to talk."

"Talk?"

"Yeah," Kev replied, grinning, meaning his position of
John in the bondage of his arms as a joke, yet to
coerce him into telling about his high school buds.

"You think you're funny huh?"

"I'm not trying to be funny," Kev replied, a grin on
his face, as he fibbed.

However, John, taking every effort to earn some bucks
before heading off to college, retained a more
meticulous attitude towards responsibility. He wasn't
amused.

"Let me go, Kev. Tom'll..."

"Not until you tell me," Kev pursued, this time
giggling.

Figuring two can play this game, John steadies
himself, with pressure on his left foot, bending his
right leg, stretching it back, as he lifts his heel.

"Akkkkkkk... oooooh shit!" Kev screamed out, releasing
John's arms right away to comfort his own privates.

Drawing back the curtain, even though soap still
glossed over his pecs, dripping down his stomach,  he
took exit, turning his head, jerking his chin down, to
follow Kev on his knees, clutching his jewels, moaning
in pain. "Y'know, responsibility isn't a game to be
toyed with. Maybe you don't take it serious, but I do.
I heard Tom busting Leo's chops over being just two
minutes late. That's `not' going to happen to me. Why
don't think about growing up, Kev?"

Leaving the curtain parted more than halfway, John
proceeded to stand in front of one of the sinks,
splashing water to his chest, over his shoulders. It's
then he realised his towel was hanging on a hook,
right outside the shower.  Swiping one of the them,
drying off, he spotted Kev sitting on the floor, one
hand under his balls, holding them up. Before
departing, he commented, "I didn't hit you that hard!"
Giving no time for Kev to reply, John exited the door,
too pissed to give a damn if anyone noticed his nude
bod parading down the hallway.

"Anything I can be of help with?"

In the three minutes it took for Kev to realize what
happened, letting John's words sink in, he began to
recover from John's heel-lift. Falling back against
the wall on his ass, his legs spread out in front of
him. He reached up, turning the hot down a little,
allowing the shower to turn cool. With his balls lying
on the blue tiled floor, it felt soothing, as the cool
water played in making the pangs go away.

"Um, nah. I think I'll survive, but thanks anyway,
Matt."

"You and John have a fight?" Matt probes, as he fully
steps into the shower cubicle, moving the plastic
curtain aside, then resealing the entrance.

Moving his shoulders forward, Kev says, "I don't know
if you would call it a fight. I mean I was just trying
to...."

Looking up, Kev lost his concentration, more keyed
into the fact of Matt standing there, hands on his
hips, Matt's eyes staring beyond his face, licking his
lips as if parched, the dark-haired pubes silhouetted
against his loose balls, cock semi-soft.

"I'm curious, Matt?"

"About?" Matt replies, abrupting switching his
attention from the water pounding the tiles between
Kev's thighs.

"I'm curious to know where you were between the time
you stuck your head in our cube and now?"

Scratching his head, Matt lifted his shoulders and
dropped them in a matter of seconds, telling him,
"Took my shower. Why?"

"But we took the last stall."

"Yeah, well you know, we're supposed to be saving
water by showering together, so.. um," Matt fished for
words.

Wise to Matt evading the truth Kev figured he would
help the swim-jock get to the point. "So, who did you
give head to this time?"

Uttering a quick laugh, Matt confesses, "Um, Adam
Bentley. Know him?"

Did Kev ever. Adam wasn't easy to forget, especially
after waking up, hearing Kirk's friend addressing him
and John as `faggots', `homos' and other not-nice
terms. "I know Adam. So, did he invite you or did you
offer?"

By now, both college dorm-boys turned each other on,
Matt taking a few paces forward, so Kev could handle
his sloping cock. One-handedly, he softly massaged
Matt's cock, as his other hand played with his own.

"Well, I suppose I instigated it," Matt stopped for a
split second to gaze at Kev's cock firming up. "But
then Adam said he could stand to have his balls
emptied."

"So, did he have gallons to rid himself of?" Kev said,
the changeover from pain to pleasure occuring, as he
stroked.

"I wouldn't know," Matt replied, his shaft swollen to
it's full eight inches.

"You must have sensed something, when he let lose the
floodgates?"

"It was hard to tell. When he came he took hold of my
head and jambed his cock down my throat. All I could
taste is the last few drop of his manjuice."

By now, the visual, plus gist of the conversation
tended to override the post-conversation with each
other. Like on drugs or too many beers, Kev was slowly
losing the battle to resist.

"So, if you haven't emptied your balls yet, you want
me to... um, help you out?"

Kev would love that, but at the same time, he felt for
Matt, his bulging balls looking filled to the brim.
But not only that, Kev got this sensation going in his
mouth, like he wanted to taste something sweet and
salty.

"Sure," Kev gave in, "as long as I can help you out
with yours?"

Matt suggests, with a smile, "We could go to my room."

"What about Tony?" Kev inquired about Matt's roomie,
Tony Gagliardi.

"He left about an hour ago. He said he wanted to get a
jump on swimming practice."

"Okay. Cool."

When Kev went to get up he slipped, Matt catching him
by his arm.

"Thanks man," Kev awarded him the credit for keeping
him from cracking his skull against the wall.

Waists toweled, the two left the jon, Kev bringing up
the rear, til they reached nearly the end of the
hallway. From around his head, Matt took off the chain
with his key. With attention tied up in their
thoughts, the urge to unload, they hadn't taken notice
of the guy splitting from Kev's room. The
environmental green jacket, of Barr's & Bridges
employees, would have been obvious to someone paying
attention. However, it wasn't tough for John to make
out the profile of the guy, entering Matt's room.

%

"What's today?" Denis asked, staring out the window,
this time facing the east, barely seeing the town
through the trees.

"Monday, May 21 and it's a beautiful day out there,"
Jack Collier replied, as he got up from his chair, the
latest issue of `Out' magazine in his hand.

"Shit! I've gotta get outta here. I need to get ready
for exams. When is graduation?" Denis shot out with,
his mouth running along with his brain, spurting out
questions Jack couldn't answer, except one.

"Sorry, but you're not physically or...."

"Go ahead and fuckin' say it," Denis seemed to lose
control, but not fully, since the medicines helped
keep him from fully acting out. "They think I'm
crazy... insane!"

"They don't think that of you Denis," Jack replied in
a soothing voice, his hand going to the blond teens
shoulder, rubbing it, laying his hand with the
magazine, on the side of the bed.

"Then why are `you' here? Where's Darryl? He said he
would be here for me in the morning. It is morning
isn't it?"

Seeing where Denis could be out of whack with his
perception of whether the sun was rising or setting,
he told him, "It's morning. The sun is about ready to
peak over the trees."

"Oh," Denis said solemnly, as if it was his fault for
not knowing.

With haste Jack made excuse, "It's the medicine. You
know you are on some heavy drugs, don't you?"

"Drugs?" Crystal meth crossed Denis' mind.

"Antidepressants, plus something to make you sleep
better at night. Most likely the reason you woke up,
feeling disoriented," Jack explained, as simple as he
could.

"Where's Darryl?"

"Maybe he got detained." Picking it up, then loosening
his grip on the `Out' magazine, he used both hands to
press Denis' shoulder back into the mattress, his head
settling in the pillow. Jack spread the light blanket
over the teens arms. "Warm enough?"

"Yeah, I..." Denis yawned, "I don't know why I'm
tired. I just woke up."

"It's the medicine," Jack informed him, picking up the
magazine again, reporting back to the chair he sat in
all night long.

Denis watched as Jack sat in the chair, having to only
get up again, when the door opened.

"Darryl?" Denis questions, viewing the frame of the
man entering, thoroughly dissapointed when he sees
it's not Darryl.

"Denis, this is Luke DeMott. Luke will be sitting in
for me until somebody else relieves him." After the
introductions, Jack squeezes Luke's tricep, saying,
"See ya later, babe," before taking his leave.

"How you doing?" Luke inquires of Denis, standing to
the side of the bed.

With a gloomy attitude hanging over him as if a chip
on his shoulder, Denis says, "Life sucks, so what else
is new?"

"It's going to be a hot one out there today, but at
least we'll be having the sun shining!" Luke tried
brightening up Denis' world.

Staring at Luke, Denis asks, "How come you're not
wearing one of them blue things?"

Looking down upon himself, Luke pulls his orange polo
shirt away from his chest, asking, "What? This?"
meaning his street clothes.

"Yeah. Aren't you nurses supposed to be wearing
hospital clothes, unless you're some kind of doctor?"

Taking more of an interest Denis props himself up on
his elbows, as he lay there.

"I'm not a nurse, nor a doctor. I'm what you would
call a therapist," Luke filled him in.

"Oh okay. Like Dr. Roberts told me. I guess I'm in
that part of the hospital where you keep all the
whackos!"

It made Luke smile, as he further educated Denis,
"I'm part of a multidisciplinary team. What you might
call, a liason between onsite psychiatric medical
directors and the patient. Throughout your visit with
us, you will be exposed to group psychotherapy,
individual and family counseling, therapeutic
activities and medication management."

"When am I getting out of here?" Is all which
concerned Denis, still fresh in his mind. Not so much
the senior prom, but the reality of having to want to
be in the numbers at graduation.

"That depends on you," Luke informed him.

"I'm ready to go. How about giving my dads a call and
having them come get me?" Denis asked, coolly.

>From Luke's perspective, it was the first time he
noticed the teen smiling, since he entered the room.
He hated like hell to burst Denis' balloon.

"Things aren't that easy," Luke said, trying to sound
as upbeat as he could, knowing the reality would set
Denis back a peg or two. Nor was he ready to inform
Denis of the reason for someone consistently being in
his room, around the clock, his job as part of a
`suicide watch'.

"Why not? All you have to do is have one of my dads
sign some paper and I can get out of here, right?"

Rather than provoke, Luke spotted something on the bed
which he felt could create a diversion.

"This your's?" He asked, picking up the `Out'
magazine, flipping through some pages.

"Um, no. I think it's Jack's."

"Wow! They sure have some hot guys in here!"

"I had the feeling," Denis said outright.

"What's that?" Luke asks, shutting the almost naked,
hot stud back into his magazine world.

"You and Jack. What are you, a couple or something?"
Denis spelled right out.

"We're friends, okay? And if what you're driving at
is... yeah, I'm gay," Luke said, with a smile.

"How did you know I was?" Denis said, crisscrossing
his arms over his chest.

"Usually Jack doesn't bring work home, but... well, to
tell you the truth, I owed Jack a very big favor, so
he was cashing in his chips."

"I don't get it, what did he do for you?" Denis probed
deeper.

"Nothing much," Luke acted casual. "Did you hear about
the accident up on Mountain Glen Road last year, about
last October?"

"Nope," Denis replied. "But I kind of have an idea.
Lots of people keep missing the bend in the road, when
it curves. Fuck, a lot of cars and trucks keep going
straight."

"Yeah, well I was one of those idiots who didn't
adhere to the fifteen mile per hour speed limit," Luke
admitted the wrongdoing, but then went on to make
excuse, "but also it was a real dark night and it had
started to drizzle."

Taking a liking to Luke, Denis felt he should add some
defending statement saying, "Prolly not your fault."

"Oh? How's that go?" Luke questioned the teen, laying
his crossed arms along the edge of his hard pecs,
tucking his hands into his pits.

"Well, what people don't realize is the hill has a
slight drop to it," Denis moves his hand down, like a
plane taking a deep dive out of the sky, "You don't
really know you're into it, until you're there. If
they didn't take away all the cars and trucks going
over the side, the bottom of the cliff would look like
a junkyard."

"Hm, is that so?"

"Right. One of my high school buds lost his mom and
dad to that hill."

"Shame," Luke said, real empathy added, which Denis
picked up on.

"I think Jack's pretty lucky to have you as a
boyfriend."

Luke smiled, taking one hand and planing back his
dirty blond hair, as he squared things with Denis,
"We're `boys' and `friends'," he diagrammed, using one
of his index fingers, parallel to the other,
separating the two digits, when he said, "but not
boyfriends."

"Oh, sorry," Denis said, being overbearingly tough on
himself, his whole demeanor dropping as he condemned
himself, "I can be such a jerk."

Luke felt real bad for Denis, seeing his upbeat
attitude take a nosedive. "Things are going to get
better, Denis. You need help and we're going to be
here for you."

By now, Luke's hand held Denis', startling the
eighteen year old, making him realize people other
than family actually cared about whether he lived or
died.

Looking up, he confided in Luke, "Sometimes I feel
like life is a ton of bricks, and I go down with it. I
mean, my dads are always saying stuff like there's a
reason for bad things happening, but right now I don't
see much good happening."

Thinking the same, things don't happen without a
reason, Luke brought up, "I didn't finish the rest of
my story."

"What story?" Denis asked, having forgotten what they
talked about five minutes beforehand.

"The accident? Up on Mountain Glen Road?"

"Oh yeah. What happened?" Denis snapped out of his
current funk.

"Well, I didn't join the souls at the bottom of the
gully," Luke summed up in a nutshell.

"You didn't go over?" Denis not getting the connection
of Luke standing there, chattting with him and not in
his grave.

"Almost and probably would have, if Jack hadn't come
along."

"Oh?" Denis showed geniune interest.

Neither realized Luke's hands still soothing the blond
fibers of Denis' forearms.

"My car teeter-tottered on the edge of the railing.
Later the police said the railing, which held my car
from taking the dive, was ready to give."

"Shit! Really?"

"Really," Luke said, flashing the white, shiny smile.
"They said if Jack hadn't showed, I would have been a
goner."

"Like, how did he do it?"

"Oh, by demolishing the back window of my car. Jack's
a strong guy, you know? He works out."

With inside information, Denis tells, "Right. I think
it was Jack, who said something about a gym in his
basement."

"Yes, he has a nice set up."

It's then, the two realized Luke's attachment,
withdrawing his hands from the teen's arms.

"It's okay, Dr. DeMott. You can leave them there. I
kind of like it. It makes me feel calm," Denis said,
with a few breaths of air.

Smiling, again flashing those pearly whites, Luke told
him, "I'm not a doctor and you can call me `Luke'."

"If you're not a doctor, then what are you?"

Luke could have spent several seconds in laughter, the
cute way Denis said it, but seeing him totally
serious, he sensed he should keep the same composure.

"My official title is a `behavioral health
counselor'".

"So, you're not a doctor?"

"No, but I confer with the doctors, since I will be
spending nearly all my time with you, on a one to one
basis," Luke informed him, even though it repeated
what he said fifteen minutes ago.

"That's cool," Denis said, then hung his head, his
chin almost touching his smooth chest where the
hospital gown took a dip at the neck.

"What is it, Denis?" Luke asked.

"I'm a totally fuckin' loser," Denis reported back, a
sniff detected, then a finger blotting his eye.

After pulling a box of tissues, from seemingly out of
thin air, Luke placed it to Denis' side, tearing one
loose from the carboard box, offering it to the
eighteen year old.

After wiping both eyes, Denis looks up and says, "I
guess you think I'm a woos, huh?"

"I've counseled guys older than you, who have cried
enough to empty ten tissues boxes!"

"But guys my age and older aren't supposed to cry,"
Denis revealed, in his own teen logic.

"Call it a myth, or whatever you'd like, but the truth
is many adults cry. It seems to make people feel
better after they have let lose their emotional
response to feeling down."

After saying it, Denis responded by lowering half his
body, folding himself in half, placing his arms across
his lap, leaning forwards and crying out his baby
blues.

"Heeeeey! What's up pisan?"

First peeking in, then abruptly annoucing himself,
Tony Gagliardi burst into the room.

With an "Oh shit!" only picked up by Luke, Denis
composed himself as much as his mental faculties would
allow him.

"Hey baby... what'samatter?"

Between the two, Tony flung his bod, arms embracing
Denis, almost scooping him out of bed, like a
steamshovel.

`Wow!' Luke thought to himself, feeling something for
the Italian swimmer he didn't experience at all with
Denis. As if still in med school, he studied the
anatomy, shielding himself from Denis, taking notice
of the powerful delts and traps, tearing at Tony's
tank top shirt for dominance, as if in a tug o'war.
His grip on Denis made his muscles contract, then
relax, then tense up again when he hugged Denis
firmly, when conveying his sympathies. Suddenly, Luke
realized the stalk sticking up, fighting to be outed,
as he sat there, moving the `Out' magazine to hide his
conpicuous tent. He then heard his name mention, Denis
saying, "Luke DeMott."

"Tony Gagliardi here. Nice to meet you doc!" Tony
said, his powerful hand strangling Luke's. "Ooops!"
Tony said, when the magazine slipped off Luke's lap.
Instead of the magazine, Tony's hand gripped Luke's
inner thigh, quickly retracting his hand, with the
apology, "Sorry `bout that, doc."

Luke noticed Tony's eyes, wide as saucers, when he
glanced at his pubic region. To help them both out,
Denis corrected, "Luke isn't a doctor, Tony."

"Oh no?" Tony questioned, staring at Luke, breaking
off to pick up the `Out' off of the floor. It also
gave Tony the excuse to get his tush off the bed,
resting between his fellow swim-jock and the med
professional. "Here ya go," Tony says, slapping the
magazine down on Luke's lap, sending a message.

For Luke, the message continued, as the `Out' magazine
punched at his semi-softness, carrying electric waves
throughout his pubes and beyond. "Thanks," Luke
courteously said, but also added a smile, Tony making
a connection as if something more.

"Tony and I are on the swim team," Denis offered.

"Is that so? Is that where you get those bulging
biceps?"

Pulling up on his sleeve, Tony says, "Probably. I
don't work out or anything, so I guess the muscle's
gotta come from someplace."

"In the genes, perhaps?" Luke asks, smiling.

"Hey," Tony retorts, "you're the doc. You should
know!"

Denis was aware of the connection the two seemed to be
having, the playing back and forth with suggestive
wording, waiting for the next chance to interject some
conversation.

"How did we do in the competition with Greenville?"
Denis found his in.

"Swam rings around them. They were stiff competition,
but we creamed them real good!"

"I guess you had a victory party. Too bad I couldn't
make it."

Tony could see the downer coming over Denis, so tried
cheering him by saying, "Hey, Denis-babe, don't let it
get to you. Next year you'll be with the rest of the
team, hitting the water with the rest of us. There
will be plenty of victory parties to go to."

Luke joined in, saying, "See, how much you have to
look forward to Denis?"

"I guess."

"Look bro... I gotta go," Tony announces, going in for
another hug. "I'll see if I can get back to see you
tomorrow, okay stud?"

Taking the time to stand, Luke watched Denis hold onto
Tony as if not wanting him to go, same manner in which
Denis clutched him, when he had the chance.

"Are you sure you have to go already, Tony?" Denis
asked, with a plea in his voice.

"I do, but it's a def I'll be back tomorrow, okay
babes?"

"Don't forget," Denis answered back as Tony steps out
the door.

In passing, Luke tells Tony, "Um, if you're interested
I have some free time tomorrow?"

"You trying to pick me up, doc?"

Luke left Tony's namecalling, answering, "You bet your
ass I am!"

Adding a fake cough, Tony replies, "Well, yeah. I
might free up some time too."

Outside the room, time Luke should not have been
spending, Tony quickly jots down his number on a piece
of paper.

%

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