Date: Fri, 17 Aug 2007 09:46:14 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Natures Trail 20

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 Trail" 20
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"You look a wreck!"

Slowly, Darryl opened his eyes, reporting, "I didn't
get much sleep."

"In that chair, I don't doubt it," Riley summed up.
"Why don't you go home and get a shower, shave and hit
the pillow?"

"You mean like sleep?" Darryl questioned, between
yawns.

"Sure. You can't do your job in that condition."

"I can't go home. I have to pull a day's shift yet.
What would the captain say?"

"You go home. Get some rest and leave Cappy for me to
deal with."

"What about Denis?" Darryl asks.

"I'll get a nurse to watch him."

"But what if Denis wakes up? Says something
important?"

"He's not going to say anything important. His
brother's injury was an accident," Riley assuredly
reports.

"Accident? But from what you said last night, I
thought..."

"I know the family. Denis is a nice kid. He wouldn't
hurt a flea, let alone his own brother," his fellow
police officer assures him.

It then occured to Darryl `why the hell did he spend
the night, if that was Riley's outright opinion?'
However, he was too exhausted to start any battles.

"Yeah, okay. But I think I should report sometime
today."

"Nah. Take the whole day. I can pull a solo shift,"
Riley enlightened his partner, after serving so many
years solo, before the WRPD became operational with
two officers to a shift.

Before leaving, Darryl took a moment to gaze at Denis.

"Nice kid, huh?" Riley asked him.

"He was out. I didn't get to talk with him."

That wasn't the way Riley meant it, but let Darryl
think what he may.

%

"You boys are looking perky today?" Barry directs to
Philip and Aidan.

"Dad-Alonzo is picking us up," Aidan says.

"Yeah," Philip agrees, "we have to be ready!"

The dads have never seen the two reluctant to go to
school, but also not as `wired'.

"We're going to miss swimming with the team," Philip
says.

"Yeah, especially Matt. He taught us a lot of good
stuff," Aidan tells them.

"Hey, dad?" Philip asks.

"What?" Barry and Steve both answer, simultaneously,
which often occured.

Philip picks, "Dad-Steve, do you think Matt can come
over and show us guys some more swimming stuff in our
own pool?"

"I could certainly ask him. What do you think, Barry?"

"I think it would be great, but why don't we wait til
school's over with, boys."

Steve states, "Wow! I can't believe graduation will be
here in about eight more weeks."

"I didn't get to ask you how classes are progressing?"

"For the most part, what I hear from the other
teachers, and speaking for myself, things are running
pretty smoothly. Of course we don't have the luxury of
having classroom materials at hand. But for the most
part there's a lot of cooperation from the WRCC
administration and the students."

"Good to hear. Now I'm wondering about what to do
about our situation, with Mark and Denis," Barry says.

Philip asks, "Is Mark going to be in the hospital for
a long time?"

"We don't know much, son," Barry says.

"How come Denis didn't come home?" Aidan inquires.

"He was shaken up. The doctor at the hospital thought
he should spend the night," Steve helped out, putting
it as obscure as possible.

"Are Denis and Mark going to keep sleeping together?"
Philip asks, Aidan waiting to hear, too.

Barry and Steve look at each other, then the boys,
Barry answering, "I think we should leave Denis and
Mark's business up to themselves."

Steve remarks, "It's called `privacy'."

"Sexy stuff can be tricky, I guess," Aidan brings up.

"Right," Barry says. "Sometimes you have to leave
things up to a person. Let them decide things. I'm not
talking about you young guys though. Denis and Mark
are older."

Out of the blue, Philip says, "I hope when I get older
I look as handsome as Denis."

"Me too," Aidan agrees.

"You can't be," Philip tells him.

"Why not?"

"Because Denis and I are blonds!"

The two squirts made the dads giggle, for a moment
forgetting about their sorrows over Mark and Denis.
Needed relief!

%

"I'm sorry I can't be with you this morning," Alonzo
tells Callan at the breakfast table.

"Where are you going to be?" Seth asks.

One thing Alonzo and Callan are getting to know about
Freddie; they have no idea what his sources are, but
he knows everything that's going on.

Sidetracking the eleven year old, Freddie asks,
"Where's your backpack, Seth?"

"In my room."

Standing there with a hand on his hip, Freddie says,
laced with humor, "Well how am I supposed to pack your
lunch with it in your room?"

"I'll go get it."

By the time Seth reported back, he forgot about the
question. Freddie gloated over himself, derailing
Seth's thoughts about something the dads would
probably feel better the kids not knowing about.

"I'm available this morning, if you need any moral
support, Callan?" Freddie says.

Looking over to Alonzo, Callan wondered if his partner
was thinking the same thing he was. How did `it' leak
out? Graciously, Callan replied, "Thanks a bunch
Freddie, but I think I'll be alright."

Then it dawned on Alonzo, snapping his fingers. He
didn't say it out loud, but remembered Freddie taking
the message, passing it on, from Detective Crew, about
meeting him on campus this morning.

"Well, I better get moving," Alonzo says. "Freddie, do
me a favor and phone Steve and Barry, tell them to
send the kids over?"

Freddie gestured the sign of pointing with his index
finger at Alonzo, as if saying, `you got it', adding a
wink. He exited the diningroom.

"Ready?" Alonzo asked, looking across the table.

Callan asked, "Are they giving away candy or something
at school?"

"I don't know. I've never seen them so hyped up. But
like you said yesterday, I think they're all
`pooled-out'."

Around the side of the house, Philip, Aidan, Seth and
Diego piled into Alonzo's sedan. No sooner had they
left, then Freddie brings the remote phone in hand to
the door, saying to Callan, "Detective Crew for you."

With Callan taking the phone, Freddie stuck around,
tidying up the deco pillows on the sofa, all ears.
>From what he understood, the detective would be
meeting Callan at the house, providing taxi service to
the college. As soon as Callan hung up, Freddie asks,
"What time is he picking you up?"

"Half hour," Callan replied.

"Doesn't give you much time. You better get ready."

Looking down at himself, Callan didn't think he could
cut it in a tee shirt and boxer briefs, so took
Freddie's advice and put a hustle to it.

%

Coming awake, Denis slowly blinked his eyes, focusing
from blurry to the reality of where he spent the
night. "Where... am I?"

Hearing the sketchy voice, the nurse closed up his
Genre magazine and stood up, beside Denis' bed.

"You're in the hospital. Do you remember anything from
last night?"

"Mark... where's Mark?"

Before leaving last night, Riley gave Harry the
lowdown on the reasons Denis spent the night.

"He's being taken care of. Maybe later you can see
him."

"Is he like... awake? Talking?"

"I rightly don't know. Later we can ask his doctor.
Hungry?" Harry tried getting Denis sidetracked.

"A little. I'm real thirsty... but I think I gotta
`go'."

"The jon is through that door," Harry pointed. "I'll
get rolling on some food for you."

Harry, about the same age as Riley, twenty-nine, grew
up with a tight friendship. On the same basketball
team, Harry remembers often sucking Riley off in the
shower, going over his house to play what he would
later term, sexgames, which in reality were fantasies
he dreamed up. Even as an adult, he would get a
craving to get with Riley and have some fun. But when
it came to serious stuff, he knew better to be alert
and do what he's told or else at the next `sexgame',
he would already have his demerits dealt out. In a
way, Harry liked it when reality crossed over into
their fantasy play. However, for this day, when Riley
said, `Don't let the kid out of your sight', he knew
it to mean literally.

"Are you done in here?" Harry asked, peering through
the open door, seeing Denis standing at the toilet,
paying special mind to the two mounds with it's
delicately split crevice.

"Almost," Denis said, squeezing out the last drops of
piss. At the door, he asked Harry, "Anyway I can take
a shower?"

"How about breakfast first?"

"I kind of was hoping... well," lifting up his tee
shirt, Denis singles out the dried blood on his chest,
just missing his left nip, "I thought I could wash
this off."

"No problem. I can do it while we're waiting for your
breakfast. Why don't you take your shirt off and lie
down on the bed?"

"Okay."

Somehow, the way Harry talked, in his femmie voice,
came across soothing. It made Denis feel more relaxed,
even though his thoughts were still on Mark, wandering
here and there to Darryl.

As Harry stood there, he had a basin of warm water on
the side table. Dipping a washcloth into it, he wrung
it out and placed it on Denis' left pec, asking,
"How's it feel? Too hot?"

"No. It's just right," the teen said, looking down at
Harry bathing him, applying some soap to his palm,
spreading it evenly over his whole pec.

Denis kind of had a feeling about Harry, call it
teen-gaydar, but he had to know something before he
told Harry something else. So, he asked, "Are you
gay?"

Stopping, his hand like glued to Denis' chest, he
looks at Denis.

"You don't have to answer it," Denis thought it over.

"Why? Your gaydar switched on?" Harry says, laughing.

Smiling, Denis says, "I guess you know I am too, huh?"

"Takes one to know one!" Harry said, sniggling.

"Then I guess you can understand it when I tell you
what you're doing is giving me a hardon."

Laughing, Harry joked, "Then encourage it, if it feels
good. Why let it go to waste!"

"Really? It's okay with you?"

"Sure," Harry replies, with desire to bend over and
get more intimate with his patient.

Lifting the sheet up a little, Denis looks down,
seeing his briefs tenting. He slid his hand down,
engaging in playful activity.

"Ooooh.. oooh..." Denis moaned, squinting his eyes
shut.

To give Denis more to go on, Harry expanded his area
of cleaning, running over Denis' other pec, lightly
rubbing the cloth over his nip, eliciting a moan each
time.

"Getting close?"

"You bet," Denis replied.

To be on the safe side, Harry walked over and slipped
the latch on the door, saying to Denis, "Our little
secret!"

Denis arched his back when Harry wiped one pec and
pinched his nip on the left side. It drove him over
the edge, causing what medically would be termed a
convulsion. Afterwards, Denis lay there, breathing
heavily, while his hand still held his softened nine
inch nail, nestled in a puddle of goo.

As Denis' breathing subsided, Harry washed out the
cloth, wiped down Denis' sweaty chest, then rinsed it,
holding it by a corner. As if a maid, he says, "I
don't do pubes!"

"Thanks," Denis said, throwing back the sheet, lifting
his briefs, pinning the elastic waistband under his
teen balls, then attacking the gobs of cum muddying
his blond pubic hair.

"Nice size.... everything," Harry said.

"Thanks. You know it's good to have somebody who is
easy to talk to."

"We're two gay men. Why not?"

"Sometimes it's tough to talk about stuff, even if
it's not about gay stuff."

Tossing the cum-laden washcloth into the basin, Harry
nudged his bottom onto the bed, Denis scooting his
legs over so Harry had room to sit. "Have something on
your mind?"

"Mostly I'm worried about my brother. I remember
Officer Sanchez saying something about talking to a
detective, like I did something wrong."

"Did you, Denis?"

"I guess if I backed off, it wouldn't have happened
and Mark would not have gotten hurt."

"Hold it. Time out," Harry signified by holding his
hands in a `T' fashion. "Did you leave out something?"

"A whole lot," Denis said in a pouty manner, smirking.


Sitting there on the bed, Harry looked over Denis'
bod, his smooth chest, but for a light grazing of
blond hair, which in a couple of years would sprout,
covering his pecs. He hadn't thought he was into teen
boys, but the dark blond treasure trail below the
eighteen year old's navel gave him a jolt.

"If you want to talk about it, why don't you tell me?"

"Are you going to go and blab it to Officer Sanchez?"

"I won't if you don't want me to," Harry replied,
sympathetically, licking his lips, gazing upon the
teen god before him.

"If he asks you I guess it's okay to tell him. After
all, I think he was trying to get it out of me."
Asking for a drink of water, Denis took a few gulps,
then said, "Here goes..."

As Harry acted interested, which he was, he listened
as Denis stretched his story back to the park bench,
the WRCC campus, Mark coming to sit by him, saying, "I
was too much into myself to realize it, but Mark was
there feeling sorry for me, trying to comfort me. What
a dummy I was not to notice."

"You were stressed Denis. Sometimes it inhibits our
abilities to pick up on things of that sort."

"You think?" Denis questioned Harry, not picking up on
Harry giving him the `once over', several times,
instead of eye-to-eye contact.

"Definitely so. What happened next?"

"Oh, then Matt happened to walk by. He couldn't have
picked a worse time."

"Let me guess. He mistook Mark's caring for hungry
affection?"

"Would you believe Matt thought Mark was making out
with me?" Denis posed the question as fact.

"Has it happened before?"

Right now, Denis wasn't sure he wanted to divulge
details about their bedroom sex lives. Then again, he
had a good feeling talking to Harry, as if he were a
counselor.

"Um, we've done some stuff together."

Harry realizes, "What goes on behind closed doors is
none of my business."

Thinking about it, Denis says, "No, I don't mind
telling. To tell you the truth, one of my dads caught
us in the same bed together, then a week later, my
kid-brothers found us together in bed. Mark and I
talked it over with our dads, but it might be good
having your opinion."

Just then, a rap comes at the door.

"Your breakfast," Harry says, standing up and walking
to the door, turning the latch counter-clockwise.

Opening the door, a Puerto Rican lad stands there, a
tray between his hands, asking, "How come the door's
locked, Harry?"

"You've asked too many questions already, Jose." Then,
detecting the eye contact made between the seventeen
year old latino and Denis, he felt obligated to
introduce the two. "Denis, this is Jose Vega. Jose,
Denis Barr."

Setting the tray down, wiping his hand on his hospital
shirt, Jose offered his hand to Denis, saying, "Nice
to meet you."

"Same here," Denis replied, adding a gentle smile to
the greeting.

Totally ignoring Harry, Jose asks, as he uncovers the
food, "What are you in for?"

However, Harry interrupts him, saying snidely, "You
ask too many questions, Jose. I'll call you back when
Denis is finished."

But Denis threw a wrench in the works, when he said,
"No, it's okay." Then continuing, overriding Harry's
directive, Jose stood there, as Denis informed Jose,
"My brother's in the hospital too. I kind of got upset
when they brought him in last night, so they shot me
up with some drugs and let me sleep it off. I think
I'm okay, though I wish I could see Mark."

"Really? Must have been something traumatic for you,"
Jose replied, overriding his senior boss' directive.

Seeing a two-fold purpose opening up here, Harry
rethought his views of allowing Jose to stay. He could
sit there and take mental notes for Riley, while Jose
got the truth out of Denis. Already crowding him out
of the scene, Jose had rolled the table over in front
of Denis, positioning himself between Harry and the
tray. Harry couldn't see Denis unless he adjusted his
bod, which meant he would have to let himself fall
over, onto Denis' legs, something he didn't want to
do. So, he decided to vacate the bed altogether,
sitting in the chair Officer Tudyk had sat in all
night long.

"There," Denis said to Jose, when Harry got up, "you
can sit now."

"Cool!" Jose said, parking his teen ass on the bed,
which positioned him across the table from the blond.

Harry listened intently, but the teens got sidetracked
so many times, dealing out food, Jose wondering what a
high school student is doing on a college swim team
and dozens of other aspects of each of their lives.
Yawning, Harry quickly got bored, thinking he'd rather
take his chances with Riley discovering whether he
kept tabs on Denis or not.

"Let me know when you leave the room," Harry abrutly
says, picking himself up. "Okay?"

"Sure."

Waiting for Harry to leave, Denis asks Jose, "He your
boss?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Jose says solemnly.

"I thought Harry seemed nice enough, but apparently
not to you."

Adjusting himself on the bed, Jose replies, "The way
he's been since day one of me working here. I really
can't figure out exactly why."

"Do you ever get the feeling Harry is `looking you
over'?"

Sitting there, Jose's face shows obvious question to
Denis' reply.

"In other words, have you have caught Harry checking
you out?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Jose tells, "When I first
began working here, he seemed to have a million
questions, like `Do you have a boyfriend?'"

"Do you?" Denis asked. "Or am I getting too personal?"

"Well, Harry started to get too personal, but it's not
like you talking with you."

"Oh?" Denis questions. "How's that go?"

Smiling, loosening up, Jose says, "You're easy to talk
with, plus I can relate to guys more my age. How old
are you anyway, Denis?"

"Eighteen. You?"

"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen on November eleventh. I'm
looking forward to it!"

The teens exchanged smiles over the important
milestone, occuring in any teen's life.

%

"I can get it from this side," Josh Crew told Callan,
as he exited the detective's vehicle.

"Um, what you said about all this... do you think he's
going to confess?" Callan nervously asked, as he met
Crew in front of his cocoa-colored 4x4.

"Almost certain," Crew said, looking around the
parking lot of WRCC, just outside the gymnasium.
"Where in the hell are the police when you need them?"
Josh said, waiting for the officers to show up.

"There," Callan said, nodding towards the outer
perimeter of the lot.

Pulling up, right in front of Josh and Callan, the
patrol car parked next to the curb, where yellow lines
crossed the pavement diagonally, large yellow letters
spelling out `no parking - fire zone'. Parking, the
driver's door opened, Riley Sanchez stepping out.

"Riley? I thought Mike Green was supposed to report?"
Josh shouted over the hood.

"He was. I convinced Cappy to change his mind."

Detective Crew knew the reason, too. He wasn't born
yesterday. He knew that Riley probably thought his
size, six feet, one inch tall, the powerful build,
would be the intimidating image necessary to help coax
a confession out of the student. With his hat on and
the dark sunglasses, it made up Riley to look
something fierce, perhaps the image of a domination,
straight out of a leather magazine. Of course Callan
knew, behind the facade, was a caring, loving being.
It made him smile, almost feel sorry for the swimmer!

"Let's get this over with," Riley said, looking
forward to this, as he followed behind Crew and his
friend, Callan O'Meara.

"Now Riley, let me do all the talking," Josh warned
him.

"Sure. No problem," Riley said, an evil grin forming
on his face.

Meanwhile, inside a confrontation began to build. For
a moment, Coach Hollister went back to his office to
retreive his stats book, to make new entries. Out in
the pool, Matt had gotten the swimmers stirred up over
Matt and Denis, hospitalized.

"Well what happened to them?" one of the guys asked,
dripping wet.

Matt replied, "I don't know the whole story, but when
I stopped my car, Denis had Mark hoisted up, over his
back, unconscious. Blood was dripping down his chest."

"Was his shirt ripped?"

"No. He had stripped it to bandage Mark's head."

"I can't believe it," Tony Gagliardi said, "Just
yesterday Denis was shaving me and now he's in the
hospital?"

Matt reported, "Nothing much is wrong with Denis,
other than a being in some kind of shock over what
happened."

Tony then brought up, "I think it would be a nice
gesture if the team went to see them."

Maybe they weren't officially registered, but Denis
and Mark were well-liked by the team. As for Tony,
maybe he a little more than `liked' Denis.

"The thing is, when do we have time to go see him?"
Tim Hadani asks the consensus.

Each made their excuse for being busy for the rest of
the day with classes, so Matt suggests, "How about
now?"

"Now? one of them says. "We all know what coach will
think about that!"

"As I see it," Matt tells them, "some things have more
priority over others."

They all agreed, not hearing Coach Hollister approach.

"Why aren't any of you in the water?" he scolds them.

The swim team push Matt to the front of the gathering,
which he gladly accepts the postion to represent them.

"Us guys were talking it over, coach. We want to go to
the hospital and visit our teammates."

"Clark and Barr?"

"Yeah."

"Look, they're nice kids, but they aren't registered.
You all are. Not only are you getting graded for
taking swimming, but we've got final competition next
week."

"But..." Matt tries to interject thought.

"So far I haven't seen any of you guys put a hundred
percent into your practice!"

Coming out from behind Matt, Tony strutts his wide
shouldered bod, saying, "You know coach, I kind of
resent your remarks."

"Oh?" Coach Hollister boldly says, advancing to inches
of Tony's chest. "I don't remember asking your
opinion, Gagliardi?"

"Yeah, well,  we've worked our fuckin' tails off for
you since last year. All of us have been here for
every class, come at night for extra practice, staying
til midnight sometimes and this is the fuckin' thanks
we get?"

Standing there, hands on hips, an image to show he's
not backing down, Coach Hollister, in his tough voice,
projects, "Nice speech Gagliardi, but it ain't gonna
cut it." Then raising his head above Tony's glance, he
orders, "All of you. Back in the pool and I want to
see some effort!"

>From the crowd the swimmers hear one of their comrades
say, "Now that's just wrong!"

It's the comment which started the confrontation.
Butting against Matt's and Tony's shoulders, Nils
steps out from the back, saying, "Excuse me guys,"
giving coach a death stare.

"And where do you think you're going, Kjaerholm?"
Coach follows the lithe Scandinavian's back.

Nils keeps going, not saying a word. Soon the whole
team is following the tall blond back to the
lockerroom, coach protesting the walk-out, using every
curse in the book, to address them. Several of the
swimmers, in disrepect, slide past him, wetting up his
polo shirt.

Within mintues, the team is dried and dressed, walking
out. Still Coach Hollister is slinging profanities at
them, warning them of the drop in their grade point
average. Facing them, the team stops dead in their
tracks, as they near the pool area exit. He addresses
them, "Well finally. You've come to your senses."

Coach Hollister wasn't the reason the corp of fifteen
swimmers had halted. From the middle of the group,
Matt recognizes Riley, standing there behind the two
others. It's then coach finds out the truth when
Detective Crew questions, "Coach Hollister?"

Seeing Callan among the trio, plus the police officer,
Juan cringes, trying to hide behind Tony's wide
swimmer's build.

"That's me."

"Detective Josh Crew. We spoke on the phone
yesterday?"

"Sure." Then in a complete revision of his temper
tantrum, he sweetly says, "What can I do for you?"

Nudging Riley, Callan says, as Riley leans his ear
over, "He's hiding behind the beefy fellow."

With a smirk, Riley zeroes in, right through his
shades, to the figure behind Tony. Even though Josh
told Riley he would do the talking, Riley says out
loud, "We have business with the student in the back."

Switching his head around, over his shoulder, coach
asks, "Which one?"

Even with the tan, Juan couldn't hide the
embarrassment of being singled out, especially when he
knew the premise it was built on. Rather then being
plucked out of the crowd, he surrendered from behind
the v-shaped bod, saying, "They'll want to talk with
me."

"Juan?" coach questioned.

Right away, Juan's teammates started grilling him
with, "What's this about Juan?"

"It's nothing guys. I can handle it," he said bravely,
as he pushed his way through the fifteen athletes.

When Juan approached the trio, his eyes connected
right away with Callan's. He said, "I didn't mean
anything by it."

Detective Crew stated, "Read him his rights, Officer
Sanchez."

"Holy shit!" Tony yelled out, "They're arresting
Juan?"

Nils shouted, "What the hell for?"

This time, Coach Hollister's body became a shield
against the onslaught of caring team members. Things
became more desperate with Riley cuffing Juan's right
wrist, turning him around and cuffing it to his left.

"Is this really necessary?" Callan asked, "The cuffs?"

Coach Hollister couldn't hold back fifteen guys, as
they soon surrounded the four, protesting. It's Riley
who spoke up, "I suggest you all contain yourselves or
I'll be taking the rest of you in for standing in the
line of duty?"

Probably Matt was the least concerned with Juan, as he
paid strict attention to Riley, wanting to be in
Juan's place, cuffed by Riley, being led off. His
feelings made him glad the crowd's attention was on
justice being served and not his crotch!

%

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