Date: Sun, 31 Dec 2006 19:24:10 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Natures Grace"

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.

%

"Nature's Grace"
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

Fortunately, the flood didn't put a downer into
sharing Christmas. Aidan and Philip delivered their
presents to their dads. Extra special was the glued
together candle holder. This had been the one Aidan
and Seth fought over, breaking a friendship and then
mending it. To make it a special gift, on the bottom
he scribbled, `for dad-Barry coming home to us'. It
brought tears to Barry's eyes.

Denis and Mark wanted it to snow harder so they could
enjoy their new skis longer!

Tom and Eric shopped online for some hot Abercrombie
fashions. It set the dads back almost as much as the
skis, but fortunately they could stick to the list and
still afford it.

Aidan and Philip opened their big box, given together,
only to unwrap a new game system, complete with the
latest games, making their energy levels soar!

Not exactly personal, but still a fitting gift, Max
received a new set of Calphalon pots and pans. His
substle hints paid off.

For Berk, the dads were stumped, so they chose a brand
new tool box, loaded down with new woodworking tools.
Berk was almost floored by the generous gift.

%

"What's this? What's this? I can't believe it! What's
this?"

This is all Michael could say over and over, holding
the little square box in his hands.

Sarcastically, Kevin replied, "Hooped earrings?"

Michael almost ripped the top off the box, unwrapping
it.

"A ring?"

"Yeah and the other one is waiting at the jewelry
store. If you don't like the style..."

"Don't like it? I love it! Does this mean?"

"I know," Kevin replied, "I should be getting down on
one knee, but this isn't exactly that type of moment,
if you catch my drift?"

Michael `made it' that `type' of moment, falling on
both knees and compelling Kevin to be the first to
place it on his finger.

"With this ring you better wed me!"

%

"Sorry it got wet, but...."

"It's the best! I've always wanted to wear a
dirty-brown sweater!"

Standing there in his long pajamas, Matty hauls the
dirt-caked sweater up and over his head.

"Take it off! It's filthy!"

Without warning, Chad finds himself lying on his back,
the dirty sweater right next to his skin, Matty
kissing him.

"Good thing it doesn't come with pants!"

The hint was right on target. Hefted himself up to his
knees, Matty tugged at the waistline of Chad's PJ
bottoms. He made the descent real slow, targeting the
darker blond line, right at the base of his navel, so
that the treasure trail led to the `grassy patch'.
Already hard, the elastic made like a slingshot,
pivoting Chad's 9c, readying to catapult.

"Whooooa!"

"What?" Chad questioned Matty's thoughts.

"Biggest I've ever seen you, Preppy!"

"Get outta here. A guy doesn't grow big overnight."

"Oh yeah?"

Of course Matty had to prove his point. Going to the
draw, he pulled out the twelve inch `cock-measurer'.

"Oooooooh," Chad signed when Matty used his lips to
`firm it up'.

"Yeah. Gonna make you fit to the end of the ruler."

"Yeah, right. More to pork your ass!"

At this point, Chad didn't care how it measured up.
Whether he was his usual nine inches or twelve, all he
cared was to have it stroked to perfection.

"Just as I thought!"

"How much?"

First Matty sealed Chad's lips before replying, "Ten
and a half!"

"Yeah, right. Gimme that!"

"Oops!"

Matty accidentally tosses the ruler over his shoulder,
it landing on the floor. Right away he bowed he lifted
the sweater off, overhead, sending it the way of the
`cock-measurer'. His lips reported to the luscious
spot between Chad's legs.

%

Justin had teased Christian about wearing a sweatshirt
to church. Even under the choir robe, it didn't look
fitting. Around Birdy's he daily stole a white shirt
from Michael's wardrobe. So now, this morning, he had
a nice shirt and tie for almost everyday of the week.
It would have been every day, Justin's original
intention, but he felt bad for Antonio, observing
Christmas, without something to unwrap. They already
found out `one-size-fit-all', so size wasn't an issue.


But he wasn't the only one being thoughtful. Antonio
made up his own `giftcards', treating Christian and
Justin to a romantic evening out. He would play
chaffeur and pick up the tab.

Christian handed out sweaters from Uncle Seb's `Army
and Navy'. Antonio actually got his idea from Justin,
whom said Uncle Seb `would like an evening out,
bowling'.

Everything came together beautifully when Uncle Seb
found out Antonio had never even picked up a bowling
ball, claiming the twenty-one year old for his
partner.

%

"I don't think I can take this life forever."

Lying there in bed, Javier Yacouba, Mr. Pink's biggest
singing sensation began to see the light. As if a
revelation, he felt the bed move.

"Hey, where are you going, Bruce?"

The twenty-eight year old, former Heartland Security
officer began hiking the shorts up his legs.

"I think it's high time we think about reality here."

It's not a new thought, jumping the stage, dropping
out. Javier's had it on his mind for months now. `Here
goes', he thought.

"I'm quitting show business."

"Yeah right."

"I am, Bruce. Honest. I've thought about it."

"What? For me?"

"Yeah, for you, but not only for you."

Half sitting up, propped up on one elbow, Javier held
Bruce's arm, keeping him from pulling his briefs up
over his thighs.

"For `you', you say?"

"Right. I've been thinking about this for months. I'm
real successful. Popular. But two months from now I
could be a flop. Even two years. Still, I'm twenty-two
years old. I'm not the young guy I used to be."

"Thanks. I suppose it makes me an old man?"

"Get real, Bruce. You're only twenty-eight."

"Yeah and you know what that means?"

"What?"

"I'm pushing thirty."

With it out in the open, Bruce broke Javier's grasp
and got up. His briefs came with him, hiking up to
just an inch below his navel. At first, Javier lay
there, gazing at the lanky security man, the lightly
covered pecs, the trail shooting straight down to his
briefs. However, it was more than the outward beauty
he would be letting go of. He had to do something and
fast. He jumped out of bed, forcing Bruce into his
arms.

"And what do you want?"

"What do I want?"

Bruce thought about it.

"Fish."

"Fish? You want to go fishing? Is that it?"

Fright overtook Javier as Bruce reached for his jeans.
`His' jeans. The ones he gave to Bruce last night.

"Lots of fish. Yep. Thought of opening myself a little
pet shop, right here in West Richlan. Friendly enough
town."

"We can do it together."

"Look, Javier. You're twenty-two years old. You
haven't had any college an'...."

"I can go to school. Right here in West Richlan. They
have a community college. I'll study business."

Don't get Bruce wrong. He felt something for Javier.
Something more than a one night stand, but he was
facing the facts. Facts, like Javier knowing of only
the stage life.

Getting desperate, Javier held both of Bruce's wrists
as if handcuffs placed over them.

"No!"

"No?"

"No, you can't go. I.... I want you to stay."

"Believe me, I want to, but..."

"Then get it through your head. I love you, man."

Hearing it any other way, it could spell a warn out
cliche, but now it was spoken with real meaning. Bruce
saw he was for real. Lying in bed this Christmas morn,
he told himself it couldn't be for real, but it really
was. Would he go on lying to himself or let himself
trip, stumble and fall head over heels in love?

%

Being closed, the two `Johns' spent the night at  John
Torkelson's house, waking up with his folks. Very
liberally minded, the Torkelson's were okay with John.
However, it wasn't too cool yule for John, when he
showed up later with `Tork'. For all of ten minutes
they lingered, the atmosphere inside matched the
outside.

"Sorry, John."

"No problem, man."

"Man?"

John pressed Tork up against the car and gave him a
kiss, in full view of the whitened neighborhood.

Inside the vehicle, Tork asks, "Was that for their
benefit?"

"What did it feel like?"

"Both," eighteen year old Tork said, smiling.

"At least you're okay with it."

"I'd rather have had it the real thing. All for me!"

"Selfish!" John accused him. "So, what now?"

"My `rents are cool with you staying with me. So, how
`bout it?"

"Cool. I need to find a job."

"You have a job. At B&B's remember, doofus?"

Tork picked one hand off the steering wheel to give
John a noogie.

"Mind your driving before you have us both wrapped
around a telephone pole!"

After giving John a reassuring look, he continued on.

"Seriously, I'm not going to make it on part-time."

"So, you go full-time."

"What happens if Chad can't give me full-time?"

"You get a second job. Not too hard to figure out.
Plus..."

"Plus what?"

"Since you're shacking up with me, makes it part my
responsibility to help you out."

"You have your own college bills to pay for."

"Correction. My `rents do. What I do with the money I
have saved up, is my business."

"You're going to need books."

"Speaking of books, maybe my dad can get you a job
with his company. You're always writing stories."

"Porn stories?"

"Oh yeah. Hee hee... forgot. That narrows it down. His
company is kind of strict on what they publish."

"Your dad's a good writer. Maybe I should read his
books."

"Why you have an interest in parapsychology?"

"Not really."

"WRCC uses his text. If you take psych 101."

"Really? No wonder your family is rolling in the
dough."

"Don't let it get out. So, how about it."

"Okay, but if we break up, I gotta pay you back, plus
I'm finding a fulltime job."

"You're putting a lot on your plate, John."

"I want to make something of myself. I don't have to
be famous. Just successful."

"And what is it," Tork asks, in a little kiddie's
vernacular, "you want to be when you grow up?"

"I was thinking of Degaugue's actually."

"Cooking school?"

"After business school. I'd like to open a place like
Mr. Pink's, only more food than wall-to-wall guys."

"What's wrong with wall-to-wall guys? You going
straight on me, John?"

"Never!"

The two laughed the rest of the way to Tork's house.
After presenting their idea to his folks, they went
back to Tork's room. After five minutes, Mr. Torkleson
knocked on the door.

"May I come in?"

"Just a second, dad."

Almost ready to unravel the bed scene, the two quickly
through tee shirts on, making them presentable.  On
John's mind had been thoughts of Mr. Torkelson not
liking the idea.

"Your mother and I have talked it over and feel it
would be best if you two spent your college years on
campus."

"Not here at home?" John questioned his dad.

His father could see where this was headed.

"Don't ever get the idea we don't love you son, but
it's too small an environment here for two eighteen
year olds growning up. You bearly have enough room for
your own things in this room!"

John voices his concern.

"That's okay. I can move out."

Putting his hand on John shoulder, Tork's father
states, "We could easily learn to love you as a son,
but that's not the point. You both need your freedom."

"But I can't afford dorm, with tuition."

"I've been sitting on this for years."

>From an envelope, Mr. Torkelson pulls a piece of
paper.

"John's older brother has chosen the service. My book
has given WRCC such notoriety, they've awarded me two
four year scholarships. One for James and one for
John. James, obviously is not going to need his.
Therefore, I'd like to gift one of these to you,
John."

John had to actually open his mouth to breathe.

"Do you know what this means, Tork?" John asked his
teen lover.

"You still need the full time job."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't have a college loan hanging over
my head when I get out of school!"

"We won't!"

A three way hug ensued.

%

Sometimes love moves very fast. For Dave Rosario, Jr.,
he was invited the night before, to Wade Hopper's
celebration. Since his place wasn't habitable, they
met back at Birdy's cafe, staying the night at Dave's
motel room. Nelly was taken in by an `aunt'. Not
really flesh and blood, but someone Wade trusted.

"I had a nice night, Dave."

"Likewise."

"For a change someone wasnt'.... never mind."

"Trying to get into your pants, Wade?"

"How'd you know?"

"Michael keyed me in."

"Wait til I...." Wade thought about it. "So, tonight
maybe?"

"If that's what you want."

"And what do you want, Dave?"

"What do I want?"

Dave thought, rubbing his new goatee.

"First on my list, is a real relationship. Not one
governed only by how good is a man in bed. Last night
we sat up late talking.... and man can you drink up a
storm!"

"Without letting it go to my head?"

Michael was only open to a selected few on Christmas
Day. Those who could serve themselves and be fair
about it.

"Here, let me refill that," Wade said.

Getting up, going to the counter, taking the coffee
carafe and emptying it into Dave's cup, he took his
seat.

"Not as good as that `Christian feller's' coffee!"

"I think yours is decent. Where was I?" Dave inquired
of Wade.

"You were talking about us innocently kissing last
night and deciding whether you wanted to spend time
tonight trying to get in my pants!"

They both chuckled.

"Tell you the truth, I wanted to last night, but then
I thought this man's got class."

"Class, Dave?"

"Yeah, like I said, you don't want everyman bangin'
down the door and...."

Wade stood up. Right there in the kitchen of Birdy's
cafe he began undoing his belt buckle.

"Wade, what the fuck you think you're doing?"

"Getting ready to give you your Christmas present!"

%

"How you feeling, Beary?"

"There's a musty smell in here."

Steve breathed in his hand, then smelled it.

"No, it's not you, dimwit! Smells like wet dog."

"Still a little of the house is wet. Bernice said
she'll recommend a cleaning service."

"Okay. Other than that, it feels great to be home, in
my bed, snuggled up to you."

Such ends a Christmas Day!

%

Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.