Date: Fri, 23 Mar 2007 12:15:58 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Natures Ways 06

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 Ways" 06
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Yo, g'morning Beary."

"What time is it?"

"Almost seven. Time to wake up and smell the coffee."

"How come I don't smell any?"

"What do you smell?"

"Your breath all over my body."

"Sweet work over, wasn't it?"

"Sure was. You had me drifting off."

"Oh, but you sure woke up when it was time to fuck me,
eh?"

"You know it, Steve... Um, your turn for the wake up
calls!"

"Okay. Hit the shower!"

Steve clothes his bod in his robe, as Barry heads for
the jon. Right outside his door, he finds a towel
lying on the hall floor. It's puzzling to him who's it
is, since it could be either one of the eighteen year
old's, sixteen year old's or the squirts. In this
house, any age group could be suspect. Except his own,
of course! Peeking in Aidan's and Philip's room, he
says boldly, "Up and Adam!"

"That time already?" He hears one of the guys.

Closing the door, Steve heads to a second bungalow.
"Eric? Tom? Time to shake it up!"

At the third bungalow, Steve opens it, saying "Oops"
and closes the door!

%

First one out of bed at the Barr-Bridges residence,
Chad pulls the covers off of Matty, a hint `it's time
to get up'.

"Go away.." Matty yells, burying his face in the
pillow.

"Hee heee..."

On any other day, this would have presented itself as
a game...'see how many ways I can humiliate Matty,
getting him out of bed'! But today, with a new
resident, Chad is more into other key issues.

"I see you found the milk?"

"Yup," Jeremy says, spooning himself a mouthful of
cereal. "Do you and... and dad.. sounds funny."

"It will to us too for awhile."

"Do I call you dad-Chad?"

"Why don't we try dad."

"Okay. Dad, do you and dad eat Cap'n'Crunch, too?"

Chad smiled. It did sound strange, but it's not like
him and Matty didn't perceive of this day coming.

"Matty mostly."

"Cool."

"Cool?"

"Yup. That's what my cousins say. Denis and Mark say
it's cool when something is cool!"

"Cool," Chad says, sarcastically. He's not too old
yet, for not using it, being twenty-one. Maybe in a
coupla months, when he hits twenty-two, he'll be too
old for it!

"What do you like to have for breakfast?"

"Whatever Marco has planned."

"Somebody call for me?"

Hustling into the diningroom, Marco has two plates,
composed of scrambled eggs, two slices of toast and
two stalks of asparagus lying across the plate.

"Looks yuckie!" Jeremy gives his opinion.

Marco says, "You will to appreciate fine cooking, or
else."

"Or else what?" the eleven year old asks.

"Or starve!"

Chad adds, "Man does not live by Cap'n'Crunch alone!"

He sticks his arm up in the air, pointing to the
ceiling, like the Statue of Liberty. Jeremy laughs his
ass off.

"You're funny dad."

"Yeah, you're so funny, I forgot to laugh!" Matty
says.

Standing over Chad, he gives him a good morning kiss.

"How are you this morning, Jeremy?"

"Doing good. You?"

"I was okay until dad-Chad here flicked the covers
offa me!"

"I'm not saying dad-Chad."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I told Jeremy here to just call us dad."

"Not like the cousins, eh?"

"It might not work out."

"Hey, dad?" Jeremy calls attention.

"What?" says Matty.

"What?" says Chad. "So much for an idea."

Matty comes up with a brilliant one.

"How about he calls you dad and me `pop'? For the
little time I knew my grandfather, I called him
`pop'."

"Dad and pop, huh? What do you think Jeremy?"

Jeremy shrugs his shoulders.

"I don't think he's too hot on the idea," Chad espies.

"I think pop is good. Matty looks like a pop and since
dad rhymes with Chad, it makes it easier to remember.
Right, pop?"

Matty says, "Right."

"You can call me `Marco'," Marco suggests, smiling.

The eighteen year old energetically bustles into the
room, with four OJ's. He plants them on the table,
sitting behind one.

"Where's your friend?" Jeremy asks.

"Yes," Chad follows with, "where's `your friend'?"

"Okay, I know he shouldn't have been here."

"It's not that, it's more `where' he was found."

Saying it, Matty wiggles his eyebrows, to suggest
something more risque.

"I thought so too, afterwards. I wouldn't invite
anyone here without asking. My mistake."

"Now you're making us sound like your `father'," Matty
says.

"What about Antonio staying here?"

"For how long?" Matty asks.

"I'm not sure."

"You dope," Chad says to Matty.

"What'd I say?"

Looking at eleven year old Jeremy, Chad puts it
mildly, "They've got the hots for each other."

"Really?" Matty looks to Marcos.

Marcos only smiles.

"What a dope I am!"

Beginning as a small giggle, Jeremy's laughter builds.
Soon Marcos is laughing.

%

"Best night's sleep I've had in a dog's age!"

"Good. You've got a long day ahead of you, Kev."

"Starting with this...."

Kevin Spangler rolls over and presses his lips to
Michael's. A hand rubs his hairy stomach, traveling
upwards.

"Heeey! Watch the nips!"

"Sensitive, are we."

"Damn it, Kevin," Michael looks downwards, "look how
red they are from last night."

"Really did a job on them, huh?"

"Your sharp teeth!"

"It was the fangs that done'm in."

"Yeah, but didn't I get my revenge."

"Revenge? Hardly the word. The way you fucked me, I
was sure the bed, us in it, was going to wind up in
the kitchen!"

"Oh, I wasn't that rough... was I?"

"I'll probably be walking bowlegged. That answer your
question?"

"Yeah... okay. Tonight I'll pound you half as hard,
okay?"

"You crazy? No way!"

Shooing Kevin out of bed, the twenty-six year old
sprints for the jon.

"I'm going to put a pot'o'coffee on. Don't steal all
of the hot water!"

Kevin didn't hear, reving up the faucets for his
morning dousing.

%

"What's up Steve?"

"Something we thought could happen, but hasn't, but
has."

"You lost me five seconds ago."

"Denis and Mark."

"What about them?"

"Same bed."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Mark is lying there on his side and Denis is
spooning him."

"Kind of reminds me of us."

"What are we going to do?"

"Talk to them, but frankly aren't you glad their first
time with a man was with each other and not some
stranger, Steve?"

"I suppose. I hadn't really thought of it precisely
like that."

"Oh?"

"When we talked about it last, moving into the
Chatsworth place, pairing out the boys, we both voiced
our opinions."

"I remember. I think it was you who even brought up
the `what if'."

"Yes. Well, the `what if', `is' and what are we going
to do about it?"

"I think a nice long talk tonight might be in store,
unless..."

Barry steps into a pair of boxers.

"What?"

"Unless they open up about it."

"You mean come to us first?"

"A possibility."

"And if they don't?"

"Then I think we should bring it up, but not in a
manner in which they think we are spying on them."

"No, I don't think this will be the case. I opened
their door to give them the usual morning wakeup."

"Better than all those alarms going off."

"I agree, so?"

"So, you happened upon them. No crime in that."

"I wonder, Barry..."

"What?"

"I know this is incidental, but I wonder who's `man on
top'?"

"I think that would be their business."

Steve deviates from the subject, "You should have seen
them. They looked so cute."

"A regular couple, eh?"

"Yeah. Like a couple of guys I know."

"Alonzo and Callan, huh?"

"No," Steve walks up to Barry, places his hands on his
torso, moves his hand underneath Barry's white tee
shirt."

"Ooooooooh...."

"I love your bear-fur."

"And those hands of yours, Steve, are sheer torture!"

Staring in Barry's eyes, Steve places both palms on
his partner's hairy chest, index fingers above his
nips, thumbs below, already for some tweaking!

%

"Are you boys ready yet? Dieeeeeeeeego! Seeeeeeeeth!"
Alonzo calls up the stairway.

The two come out of their room, all geared up. Each
shoulders a junior sports bag over a polo shirt.

"You don't have to yell dad," Diego says.

As he passes by Alonzo, Seth says, "Yeah, dad. We were
ready fifteen minutes ago."

"Yeah, dad!" Callan says, right behind the boys, on
the stairs.

"How ya feeling?"

"Good, despite the tough night."

"How many accidents were they?"

"Not counting the cat falling out of the tree, I'd say
about five."

"I think you mentioned a nasty one."

"They better do something about getting these high
school kids back in school."

"Barry mentioned it yesterday. I think starting
Monday, classes are going to be held at WRCC."

Walking into the dining area, Alonzo and Callan come
upon the guys in motion, fixing themselves breakfast.

"Sorry, dad-Callan, but I spilled the milk."

"No sense crying over spilled milk, is what my daddy
used to say."

"What was your daddy like, dad-Callan?" Diego asks.

"Strawberry blonde hair and a fuzzy beard. He was a
glass-maker."

"He made windows?"

"Bottles. All different sizes and shapes."

Seth asks, "Is he coming to visit us someday?"

Alonzo looks to Callan, his eyes prompting him to
continue.

"Both of my parents; my mom and dad, are deceased."

"What?" Diego inquirers.

"They're dead, right dad-Callan?" Seth asks.

"Translated, yes."

"Daddy," Diego says, "when are we getting a cook, like
Aidan and Philip?"

"Matter of fact. I have to run over to the high
school, but your dad," Alonzo says, "will be home to
interview some prospects."

"What about some cooks?" Diego asks.

Super word-sleuth to the rescue, Seth says, "That's
what a prospect is, a person that could be our cook!"

"I'm glad I have a smart brother."

"Why's that?" Callan asks Diego.

"Because then I don't have to keep looking up words!"

The dads laugh, followed by smiles from the boys.
After picking up the phone, Alonzo addresses the boys.

"You boys better hustle over to Aidan's and Philip's
house. Your ride is waiting."

"Cool!" they say.

"Have a good time!" Callan states.

"Play safe," a theme Alonzo has always gone by, he
wishes them. He also says, "I have to get moving too.
There's a list of applicant, `prospects', on the table
here."

"I'll take care of it."

"I know you will. Bye!"

Alonzo gives Callan a hug and a kiss.

"To be continued!"

As soon as Alonzo leaves a car pulls up. Out of the
five applicants on the list, three men and two women,
he deduces one has to be of the male variety.

"Hello. I was sent by the agency?"

About a month ago, Bernice Bridges gave them the name
of a reputable business dealing in such
help-around-the-house.

"Yes. Come in."

Callan's glad he slipped a polo shirt and pants on
before coming down this morning.

"Do I hear an Irish accent?"

"Yes. All the way from Ireland."

"Nice place."

There's something which irked Callan the wrong way, as
soon as the middle-aged gentleman walked in.

"Thanks."

"I should work out fine here," he remarked.

Callan was sure to set this one straight, saying, "Oh,
but didn't the agency tell you this is a preliminary
interview?"

"Oh yes. Hmm," he rubbed a finger along the edge of
the stove, "a bit greasy."

"We haven't had anyone in for a month."

"I think I'll pass. Thank you."

Under his breath, Callan says, "No, thank you!" and
smiles.

"Whew!" He said, crossing the name off the list.
Strange the fellow didn't even introduce himself, but
from the light sketch, `middle-aged gentleman', Callan
could tell him from the two other males, younger set,
one in his thirties and the other in his twenties.

"Hello!"

It was a woman's voice, coming from the back door, as
Callan sat drinking a cup of java.

"Just a second," Callan called out.

"I hope you don't mind me looking the place over."

"Not at all."

"I'm Jean Radcliffe, from the agency."

Callan let her in. To make a long story short, when
Mrs. Radcliffe discovered `two dads', she made some
excuse like she didn't know there were children
involved in the arrangement. Another strike off the
list. Next to pay a visit, was the thirty-four year
old male.

"I'm Heinrich Dieter...."

It wasn't panning out the way Callan thought it should
go, especially since he didn't know any German, with
it alternating with English. He hoped one of the last
two would make a good choice. Nervously, Callan did
the household chores, wondering.

"Good morning," came the voice through the front door
screen. "I'm Maria Gonzalez."

She was actually a good candidate, ready to tackle the
greasy stove, at once. The one thing he didn't care
for was the banging of the cabinets. Helping herself
to a look, she would bang one shut, opening another.
It was on Callan's mind to ask her if she was a bit
deaf! After she left, he analysed whether he should
cross her off. She seemed mighty willing, but he
didn't think he, nor Alonzo could headache the banging
doors.

"Good afternoon," Callan greeted the last applicant.

"Hi. I'm Freddie Burris. The agency sent me?"

Right away, Freddie put a smile on Callan's face.
Unlike the other candidates there wasn't anything
false to be detected.

"One thing I'd like to let you know is, I can follow
the job specifics, but I haven't had any experiences
handling young boys."

"I take it you were an only child?"

"My mom remarried when I was ten. There were older
siblings, from my step-father."

"How do you feel preparing for young children of
eleven?"

"I think it was an asset I found my interest in
cooking, starting out in fast food."

"Fast food will work around here."

"Yet, I'm very much into nutrition. Are you
vegetarians?"

Callan was readying to make a strike off the list.
What a shame, when Freddie, whom was twenty-four,
would have rivaled the Clark-Barr's Max, fitting in
nicely, age-wise.

"No, even though we think the children should `eat
their broccoli'!"

"Great!"

"Great?"

"Oh sorry. I didn't mean to sound so energetic."

One subject remained untouched, almost taboo.

"I know the agency can't dictate this, but you know
we're a `two dads' household? What are your feelings
on that, may I ask, Freddie?"

"Frankly, it wouldn't be any of my business, but being
you are my business... I mean...."

Callan saw another hurdle!

"You would rather work for a regular, male-female
relationship?"

"No. I mean, what I meant to say is I don't mind. You
see I... I'm gay, too."

It was like a cool rush of wind blowing through the
house. He didn't mean for it to go this way, but he
couldn't help but blurt it out and say, "You're
hired!"

"Really? I never thought it went this way... thank
you."

"You're welcome. When can you start?"

"Right away. I can inventory the kitchen, if you
like?"

"Fine."

As soon he made sure Freddie had a pencil and paper,
Callan made for the phone, first calling the person
who mattered, then the agency.

%

Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.
2671 wds

%

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