Date: Tue, 25 Jun 2013 09:28:04 -0400
From: T.CHASE MCPHEE
Subject: Giv2GeT 07

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,
of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages,
neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental
areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male
relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy
sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not
read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in any
state (21yo in Alabama, Mississippi, Wyoming, Nebraska), or in most
countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your
local laws regarding such.

Following, pages of this story contain `adult material', intended for an
`adult audience'. Bypass this warning at your own risk.

% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use
protection.

^o^ Concluding remarks ~ reading this story could make you stiff or gooey,
so I would suggest not reading it at work... just sayin'! :)

%

Giv2GeT 07

WriTten by T. Chase McPhee

^o^

%

That evening, Ed sensed a climactic change, someone taking the initiative
to build a campfire sole purpose of a friendly get together.

Joseph had walked the beat all day, missing lunch to wade his sore feet in
the cold brook which ran through the property. When his afternoon shift was
completed, he took advantage of the brook once more, stripping completely
and lying down in its waters. He loved the way it trickled past his balls,
water-falling over his cock. In no time, his hand was helping out and soon
he polluted the brook!

At this moment, after retreating to his cabin, finding a whiff of campfire
in his nostrils, he threw on a pair of jogging shorts and followed his
nose, taking a bottle of Jack Daniels with him.

Those whom had began to form a ratpack, LL, Gabe, Jose, Tom, even Declan
and Zack, had congregated, forming a circle around the embedded stones.

"Hey, anyone up for a sip of booze?" Joseph introduces himself to the
glowing night.

"Wow!" is all Jose could register, seeing the 41-year old appear, looking
like his guns were ready to fire and knock them all dead!

Not only the worked up arms, the whole facade of a slight swimmers build,
rounded pecs, outlined by a fuzzy grazing of hair, which, when his eyes
dropped to his stomach, the trail got thin, then thick again, fanning out
over Joseph's stomach, concluding with a thickly-thin shag of happy
trail. It was true, Jose thought, the happiness a trail could bring to
someone!

Nodding, Joseph acknowledged `the look' from Jose, saying, "What's up?" he
accommodates himself, sitting down on the horizontal tree trunk, sharing it
with Jose.

Declan, a totally different person than earlier, even earlier than before
he was held captive, earlier then that, like early as last summer when he
was known as a `meanie', introduces, "Hey guys, this big hunk of hamburger
is Joseph!"

"Thanks for the big introduction, little weenie!"

Zack leans his lips to Declan's ear, "He talking about the same Declan?"

"He looks tough. He has to act tough!"

Tom gets up to shake hands, as some of the others, not taking too kindly of
Joseph, doing what they did in France, kissing both cheeks, but lingering a
little too long at the left side of Jose's neck, the part of Jose's neck he
couldn't see!

When they both sit, Tom asks Jose, "What sweet little nothings was he
whispering in your ear?"

"Jealous?" Jose asks Tom.

"Of course I am!" Tom smiles.

"Okay. If you must know, he was asking me about the dude standing next to
me."

Tom had to think on it. On Jose's other side was... he racked his
brain... "Gabe?"

Jose responds, "Nothing against Gabe, he's a hot man, but no, it was you."

"Right. So, what marvelous things was he saying about my hot bod?" Tom
persists.

"Nothing. All Joseph wanted to know is, if we're dating or committed or
anything like that!"

"And of course, you told him..."

"I told him, if he gets more closer than he is now, you'll punch his lights
out!"

"Thanks for helping me make friends, Jose!" Tom replies.

"I'm sure he's okay with you."

"Yeah, so okay, he passed me up to shake Zack's hand," Tom says, all pouty.

As he did, Joseph's hand, bottle of JD attached is asking, "Want a swig?"

He'd rather have licked right up those packed pecs, slurp up the sweat on
those trimmed follicles of hair skateboard down the smooth abs
and... "Yeah, thanks. Don't mind if I do!"

Taking a hefty swig, Tom starts coughing his lungs out.

"Need mouth to mouth?" Joseph joked.

Getting on the adamant foot, Jose butts in, "I can handle it, thanks."

Joseph just smiled, backing off, taking a hit, trying to pass off the
bottle to others.

"He really keeps himself rugged, doesn't he?" Gabe converses with LL.

"No more than yourself," LL runs a finger along one of the indentations of
Gabe's abs.

A warm evening, they all had shone up shirtless, divided between long and
short pants. Regardless, their slick upper bods reflected the shimmering
light of the orange and yellow fire. None could be more bolder than Joseph,
wide shouldered, solid pecs, two perky nips, washboard abs with a small
indentation and as Zack had wished for, it was apparently Joseph kept the
chest fur tight to his smooth skin, a swath from navel to belt, was another
draw in for those seeking eye candy.

Going on Gabe's description, LL, whom sat next to Joseph, a few feet
separating them, "Tell me, Joseph, have you ever done a Warrior's run?"

"No, but for me, it would be a waste of time!" They were all sure Jack
Daniels was bending Joseph's opinion of himself, "Why, I could run circles
around anyone in this camp!"

He would seal his own fate.

Next morning, in Ed's office, summoned there, Joseph was informed he had
been relieved of his security duties, as had the rest, the company which
had gone on strike, settling.

Trying to argue the point, things being as they were last summer, "You mean
I actually have to work?"

"Work, Joseph? Would climbing trees be work for you?"

Joseph replies, "Whatchu talkin' about Willis?"

"Willis?" Ed questions.

"I take it you don't watch reruns?"

Ed stood there, look of `what's going on?' on his face.

"Never mind," Joseph finally gives, "what's this about climbing trees?"

He knew this was a different angle, one which Joseph might not be too
enthused by, "You work out all year round, Joseph. Why not think of helping
Eddie, being by his side, as he follows through with LL and the bunch, with
Warrior training?"

"Hmm," Joseph thought on it. He very well knew he would have to go about
his business this summer with a different twist. After all, as Ed had
spelled out, from Eddie's file, in his estimation it was not Eddie's fault
he turned out the way he did. He knows the psychology of being the victim
of a bully. The act of standing up for himself was not an act of a troubled
youth, but rather, `just a guy standing up for himself.'

Taking too long to decide, Ed says, "Besides, I'm not giving you a choice."

After Jose pops into his head, Joseph replies, "fine." He had seen the
Latino's bod last night, loved the whole muscle-man physique, concentration
mid-pecs, which he loved in a man, to nestle his nose in all that chest
fur, before making love to the rest of his bod.

"Glad you agree."

"Like you say, Ed, have I got a choice?"

"Do we have to make it come to a choice, Joseph?"

"I still get to look after Eddie, don't I?" Joseph checks.

"By all means. Why do you think I would deprive you of such pleasure,
Joseph?"

"No reason. You know I'm always up for a challenge?"

"Good," Ed gets up from his desk, hugging one of Joseph's biceps, "so go
out there and give those Warriors hell!"

One day away from the campers setting foot on Rufghup soil, when Joseph
woke up this morning, after sitting around the campfire last night, he
credits the bottle of Jack Daniels to seeing what real fun he could have
this summer. Getting in a rut, after 4 summers put in at camp, Joseph was
feeling the need of a change up of the programming. Seeing the camaraderie,
raging fire and attitudes of those enjoying it, reduced to glowing embers,
guys paired out into couples; LL and Gabe, Tom and Jose, Zack and Declan,
whereas he hasn't a clue to how the two came together, but Joseph was
sure-shot knowing if they could make it through the summer, Declan would
have a man to settle down with.

It got him to thinking, so much, coupled with the liquor, when Joseph
returned to his cabin, he sulked over the fact everyone at the campfire had
a match, except himself.

Entering his cabin door last night, since he was already shirtless, he went
all the way and before crashing into his cot, picked up Eddie Raleigh's
folder.

He was all sweaty, but didn't care at the time, the effects of the JD
causing him to dream, side with the fact Eddie's picture showed him at the
gym, apparently having finished, or in the middle of a strenuous
workout. So taken in by, what he presumed Eddie had done, like he does,
trim the chest and abs fibers, Joseph licked the picture, right up those
chiseled abs, under Eddie's `chin' and then kissed him.

It wasn't until Joseph finished off his `foreplay', he sensed a tangy taste
in his mouth. "Ick!" he opinions, "I hope you don't taste as awful as that,
Eddie!"

Laughing last night, as Joseph woke up to not only being ripe, but very
ripe pubes, not remembering that he stroked himself off, jealousy set
in. It followed him all the way to the shower and while soaping the scum
off his bod, Joseph had it on his mind, if Tom, Declan and the others could
be happily matched up, then he could too.

It is why, departing Ed's office, Joseph left him with, "I thought maybe
I'd change it up a little. You know, this Warrior business might be just
what I need?"

"Really Joseph? What about the whips and chains you so adore using on a
camper?" Ed asks.

"I'm not getting any younger. In the day I could be quite the hot, dominant
top, but I think there's more to life than trying to intimidate a guy?"

"Softening up, are we, Joseph?" Ed says.

"No," Joseph finds room for kidding around, "last night I was soft... then
hard... I dunno when I became soft, but it was kind of pasty down there?"

"Well, for the longest time your hot bod has been keeping me hard!"

"Funny you should mention that Ed, because for a while now I've been
thinking something about you," Joseph tried stirring up the conversation, a
goal in mind.

"Oh? And how would that go, Joseph?" Ed leans on the edge of his desk, so
old it creaks, which makes him stand on his feet.

"When are they going to get rid of that creaky thing and give you a real
desk?"

Disappointed over the `interrogation', Ed says, "That's what you've been
thinking about me?"

"Nah. What I was thinking," Joseph wasn't a person inclined to hold back,
"is that you seem to have this hard dictatorial exterior, but deep down
inside... I don't know how to say this, but I this strong feeling you have
a desire to be `owned'?"

"You think so, Joseph?" Ed acts otherwise.

"Then again," Ed not confessing, Joseph says, "I have the right to be
wrong?!" he smiles.

Walking around his creaky desk, Ed says, "Well, you know, Joseph, I always
was under the impression a man should have words to back up his
assumptions?"

Was Joseph really reading Ed wrong, or right on target? He wasn't leaving
much to go on, but being there was always a desire to look up to some men,
down on the others, he turns it into humor, "If you kindly would bend over,
Ed, I'll give you some back up!"

Ed could only smile, shake his head, watching Joseph laugh and laugh and
laugh. He had to come down sometime which, Joseph's carrying on with the
chuckling, bought time to think, Ed saying, "Let's put a mutual date on our
calendars, Joseph. After 4 years of employment together, maybe we can sort
out how well we can really work together?"

"How about tonight?"

"Nah," Ed walks back around his desk, "I want it to be near the end of the
summer, have a long, lasting memory of this summer, before I
retire. However, how about now and then you give me something to look
forward to, Joseph?"

He wasn't sure where Ed was coming or going with this, but had an inkling,
"To be truthful, every time I've spotted you without a shirt, I've wanted
to punch that stomach?"

It was test, Ed very well knowing it and although he hasn't taken a punch
in the stomach since a camper went berserk, his first year of being on the
job, he says, "Yeah, I might drop by your cabin later for a couple!"

Even though said so surely, Joseph amends, "I was only joking, Ed!"

"I'm not."

"You're not? You're for real?" Joseph questions Ed's motives.

"Nope, because you see Joseph, you've found me out!"

Joseph figured, leaving Ed's office, the only reason he was leveling with
him now, is because he was retiring. At 36-years old, he still considered
Ed a spring chicken! There was an angle to this, Joseph mystified over it,
yet since he has never let his guard down, stooped to his knees for any man
and walked around with `attitude', he had it in the bag, thoughts on why Ed
would be stopping by later. The only question which remained, is what toys
to have polished up, ready and waiting!

%

One day before the campers descended on Camp Rufghup, the finishing touches
were being made. However, the little details had grown into big ones, Ed
having his hands full with briefing the reconstituted security officers,
from the outsourcing company.

In a way, Ed was relieved it was not the same bunch as last summer and the
summer before. Instead of a squad of 10 guys, all in their thirties and
older, a few `youngsters' had infiltrated the ranks.

Little did Ed know, back at the security company, the `older' guards had a
problem with `why' so many young ones.

Not having a choice other than hack it, or take a hike, they were also
perturbed by the fact their employer was on the brink of retirement,
leaving the company in the hands of his younger sons. Among them, they
preferred the older, Chas, but had to face a trial period, become the
guinea pigs, the father monitoring the younger son's ability to keep things
up and running.

One of the seasoned professionals, Dirk Bryson, was kind of bent out of
shape, over the family-owned business appointing one of their own kin,
Birch Gibs, security manager over himself, having worked in the family
business for over 10 years. Though, he wasn't too disappointed, not after
having met what he knew, a younger member of the clan, a drop-dead gorgeous
26-year old, which in his book, this man was more than hot! For Dirk, it
helped in making the transition easier.

Then again, for Alex Cobb, another longstanding member of security, he was
all for young guys being hired. Probably, since Alex was in really good
shape for a 36-year old, considered by his friends, a `workout muscle
bear', welcoming the `competition', Alex only saw it as a way to keep
himself feeling young and looking it.

Sharing the same thoughts, Chach San Pedro, 31-years old, thought of it as
only crossing the border to mid life, these young guys coming in, he didn't
share the same sentiments of Alex, "You're only as old as you look and
feel, amigos," said for Dirk's benefit, the three in conversation while
picketing.

Yet, the other two stood by Dirk's side, standing out there on the sidewalk
for three days, holding up signs which simply read, `unfair'.

It was really a silly reason, but the three, each knowing the other was
gay, should be welcoming some new, hot men to the longstanding security
firm, but it's how age, makes a guy wonder and worry.

Additionally, Chach says, "You think I'm going to let some young dude come
in here and get ahead of me? No. Just one of them try and I squash them
like cockroach!"

Thinking on it, Alex didn't say it, but in no time, he would be down on his
knees, squashing some young cock between his lips!

Regarding Dirk's taste, squashing his cock in the folds of some young
dude's ass, he was more inclined about Chach's thinking, putting some young
guy in his place, showing him the ropes on how things went at the security
firm.

After 3 days of the short-lived strike, Birch saw maybe they could be
right, his older brother, Chas, who was never at the company office, doing
all his business through texting or phoning in, computer, hired only by
reading resumes and looking at pictures. Birch, youngest member of the Gibs
family, did the leg work of having to schedule interviews, meeting with
prospective employees and without a bonafide human resources manager, he
wound up with the paperwork on his own desk.

It was a trial of sorts, brother pitted against brother, fairplay as their
father saw it, which brother to name as his success, upon his own
retirement.

Up against fierce competition, Birch fresh out of the service, his brother,
Chas, having been working under his father, he could see where his father
would side more with Chas, seeing it only fair for him to prove
himself. Another aspect, unrelated to the business, he was sure his father
would be fuming if he ever found out about his preferences when it came to
his own sexuality.

When their father came out to the company, to do the final interviews, he
was confused, looking upon the line of new hirees, recommended to him by
Chas, calling over, "Birch, wanna come here a minute?"

"Sure, sir. What's up?" Birch always called his father by the formal,
respected name, which the father preferred, since his whole personality
reflected it.

For his first assignment, the father had awarded him the Camp Rufghup
account, asking, "Nothing seems to match up here, with what you propose,"
the 10 men standing at attention, "and the paperwork your brother sent me?"

It had been a plot, not really malicious, since it wasn't in Birch's heart
to do that sort of thing, yet he knew if he didn't resort to drastic
measures, not only would he lose his bid at impressing his father, which
meant nailing the prestigious position, but coasting along on the coattails
of his brother for `the rest of his life'.

"Right. I'm sorry that I didn't agree with Chas on the men he wanted to
hire for Camp Rufghup, but I think these 10 mean are more suited for the
positions," the 26-year old worded and waited.

"Hmm," his father mulled it over, going through each of the ten pages in
the folder earmarked by Chas, looking upon the pictures of 10 applicants,
all between the ages of 45 and 52. Having a problem with it, his father
asks in a blaming tone, "Why on earth would you hire such young men, when
you know Camp Rufghup's campers are about the same ages? Don't you think
older men would have more of an authority over young, troubled boys?"

It irked him a little, belittling those in front of them, which did include
3 already seasoned, and older employees at Gib Security, Dirk, Chach and
Alex, Birch giving his own interpretation, "They are not boys, sir. These
are men who are having trouble behaving like men."

"Oh?" his father turns to him, astounded by the fact his younger son could
have something relevant to say.

"For instance," Birch calls Gerald Bronte over.

Gerald immediately sticks his hand out, and addressing Birch's father in
the same manner, "Nice to meet you, sir."

"Yes," his father returns the limp handshake, skipping over his own son,
even though Birch was on trial here for the position of candidate for human
resources manager, "tell me about yourself."

He started with stats, Gerald telling he is 25-years old, was born in
California, raised in Malibu, attended UCLA, with a major in psychology,
worked with troubled youths in Los Angeles and was looking for a summer job
which would involve youth who came to Camp Rufghup.

As Gerald and his father conversed, Birch could only think about Gerald's
assets, the kind which are not written down on paper or included in
resumes. A year apart in age and before Gerald was even hired, before the
first round of interviews, Birch was just hoping, by Gerald's resume, he
had all the qualities of a `Gib' man.

When Gerald went back to stand in line, Birch was proud of not only
himself, but the candidate he picked out, his father thinking him a good
man.

"Thank you, sir," Birch said, introducing the next person in the picture of
the file his father held.

This went on until all 10 candidates were presented. The only future Gibs
man he had a problem with was Conan Quinn-Kelly. Apparently, the way
Conan's shirt pulled at his gut gave Gibs reason to ask, "What happens if
one of those boys..."

"Young men," Birch says.

"If one of those young men takes off into the woods?"

Conan hadn't a clue what was behind the question, that the boss had meant
his chubby gut, saying, "Run after him, I suppose?"

Thinking he had built up the question to turn himself into a sap, Gib
changes the subject, rather than dwell on belittling himself any further,
"Are you sure about these candidates, Birch?"

"Totally."

"You're brother might not like the idea..."

"Frankly, sir, I don't really care what Chas thinks."

It wasn't the first time the father had seen animosity between sons,
whether the older or the younger. Rather getting into anything personal
right now, he welcomes the newcomers to the company, "You do know you're
shipping out to Camp Rufghup later this afternoon?"

Towards Birch, there was a wave of staring, Conan saying, "Tonight? I
thought it was tomorrow morning?"

Birch was about to say something, this news to himself, but his father
jumps in with an authoritarian attitude, directed to the chub, "You got a
problem with that? Because if you do, I have another 10 files to choose
another man from?"

Not, since this was Conan's first job since he went on unemployment from
his last job, "None, sir."

There was one more thing, which Birch was glad of, his father not bothering
to ask, from where he found 10 good men. If his father knew he had
consulted with the `Rainbow Agency', it would have been shit's creek for
himself. In a way, Birch was glad he did his own hiring. If it appeared on
any man's application, anything `gay', they would have instantly been shot
down by his father.

Outside the room, which doubled as a board room, Birch's father made a
quick getaway, himself taking the brunt force of having only the afternoon
and not a full day to pack.

Before anyone could address the issue, Birch had one of his own, "I want to
thank everyone for not bringing up anything `gay'?"

They knew where Birch was coming from and where they were going to, that if
anything about the Rainbow Agency, or pertaining to being gay, were
mentioned, they could have kissed their summer jobs goodbye.

One of the guys, Trai Lockerby, a 24-year old, `beautiful' Polynesian dude,
says, "You know, there is the option, we could have your old man up on
charges for not hiring us, because we are gay?"

Older, by 4 years, Sebastian Rodgers walks over to him, irons out he collar
of his polo shirt, "You know, before you win the case, if you do, which
would take probably anywhere from 2-8 years or more, you don't have to pay
an attorney. However, if you should happen to lose the case, you're life
would be consumed with paying them back, until you're old and gray?" he
ends with brushing Trai's shoulder off.

For all the right reasons, Trai was allowing Sebastian to touch him at all,
smooth not only his collar, but the wrinkles ironed out, right down to his
waistline, because he was crazy about auburn haired men and from the `V' of
the Gib security shirt, which Sebastian had snuck away to clothe his bod,
loved the fuzzy hair which filled the triangular structure of the fabric,
not to mention the dimple in his left cheek, which only show when he smiled
or smirked, "Uh yeah," Trai's opinion melted, "sure, now that you put it
that way, Sebastian."

Wayne Wells, another ginger-variation and youngest of the brood, 24, says,
"Why don't you guys stop prolonging it and get it on? We've got the whole
afternoon, you know?"

5'10", athletic, but still a bulge around the middle, above the crotch,
Sebastian tells him, "Camp should do you good, Wayne... Waste away some of
that extra waistline you're carrying around," he pats Wayne in the stomach
with the back of his hand.

Taking it in good stride, Wayne makes like it's not all right, "Everyone
saw that, sexual harassment, on Sebastian's part?"

It was like all the ginger guys standing together, Clyde Merritt saying,
"Hey, Sebastian can pat me down as much as he wants!"

Suddenly they were all against Wayne, which made him give up on his sexual
harassment conquest!

Birch had gone and come back, "Here is your itinerary," he passes out
folders at random, "which will give you a run down of Camp Rufghup, a
mission statement," which only painted a partial picture of how things went
in the past, "and some important phone numbers, which I suggest you program
into your cellphones."

News to Birch, as of yesterday, receiving a call from the director,
regarding a new program this year at Camp Rufghup, he pans the crowd of
men, "By the way, have any of you had experience with a Warrior event?"

Most of the guys looked like they could be candidates themselves, but Birch
was overwhelmed, "Wow! All of you, except," he was sketchy on some names,
still needing the files, getting Rob and Gerald mixed up....

"Rob," Rob Romolo guessed it was him, the only one not holding a hand up.

"Well, don't worry, Rob," he uses the 26-year old to further, "I'm sure you
won't have a problem keeping up with the others."

Conan, even with a shirt on, his belly sagging over his belt buckle,
obliterating it, "Wait. Aren't we supposed to be there to patrol the
perimeter of the camp?"

It was something Birch was holding back on. After talking with Ed Farley,
he had a strong impression, whatever the director had communicated, as far
as wishes and wants, what he said, went, unless Birch was up for losing
this account. It would have proved disastrous as far as his future with
Gib's Security, if the account should drop out from under his feet, so went
with the flow, hoping he wouldn't get any flack from his gay brothers, "Um,
I did forget to mention, yesterday, when I was talking with the director,
he thought it might develop some rapport with the campers, if you guys
participated in the Warrior event training and still kept a lookout?"

All eyes were on him, but this time, Trai allowed the idea to sink in with
the others, let someone speak up for all of them, but no one was opposed.

In fact, Conan, who could get winded running to the mess hall from 12 feet
away, says, "Yeah... get down and get all muddy with you guys!" he stare at
Gerald Bronte.

In Conan's opinion, Gerald was the hottest man there. He had caught Gerald
stretching before the meeting before old man Gib got started. Lifting those
arms, placing them behind his shoulders, the shirt did show something of a
muscular masterpiece, but he wondered how much was air. A stylish haircut,
kind of spiky on top, it fit perfect with Gerald's closely cropped
beard. Just beautiful eyes... Conan was in love, knowing, probably to make
it with a guy like Gerald was a no-win situation. Though, feeling up his
own jelly-belly, a `Warrior summer' might be just what he needed to catch
his mate!

%

At lunch, there were four tables in the spacious mess hall, one occupied by
LL, Gabe, Jose, Tom, Zack, Declan and Joseph. With no one to relate to,
Avery put it upon himself to join the round table, "Mind if I sit in?"

Of course they didn't mind, not one bit, Avery only drop-dead gorgeous, for
starters!

Doing more than eating, LL had taken it upon himself to head up an informal
committee, to cover Tom's ass and devise a plan, which would concern every
man at the table, working out a Warrior event scenario.

Joseph was happy to learn, all the stations along the way of the training,
it would be put upon the `campers', to construct a course of rigorous
exercise, "Oh, does this mean we'll be standing over them with our whips?"

LL answers him, "What happened to that charm around the campfire last
night, Joseph?"

True, last night Joseph exhibited a softened, friendly approach towards
showing he was not some stuckup, mean, terrifying oger, who ruled with a
whip in his hand and at night chained up his victim, for fear he would run
away, "I was only kidding," Joseph tried warding off the horrible
portrayal, adding little tee-hee's!

Contrary to what he was thinking, Joseph the epitome of a horrible
whip-wielding individual, Gabe says, "How could anyone think of Joseph as
anything but a... nice, warm, fuzzy teddybear?"

LL replies, "You just saved your ass from a whippin', Gabe!"

Smiling, deep down inside, Gabe had a yearning for the tables to be turned,
ruling over Joseph, maybe having him doing pushups, 25, 50, or 100 of them,
standing on his back, a switch lingering over his ass... then again, those
days, when Gabe played around with more than whips, cuffs and fun stuff to
do with a man's balls, he put Joseph in the back of his mind.

Jose, who had been playing footsie, with his hand, under the table, daring
to see how far he could move his hand over Tom's thigh, towards the inner
seam of his pants, without the others knowing what was going on, suddenly
interjects, "What about your limo driver, Zack?"

"That's right!" LL says.

"I forgot all about Vlad," Zack says, whipping out his phone.

As he's dialing, Tom says, "Boy, if you can get him to help us out, it will
really save my ass!"

Patting Tom's thigh, Jose says, "You leave your ass to me!"

It wasn't meant to be a joke, except between the two, but the others
hearing it, their table stood out against the quiet, mundane existence of
the mess hall!

In no time, things quieted down, with Zack talking on his cell. However, in
a minute, he had to get up and walk to a more personal space, taking his
call out onto the porch.

"I hope he's not having a problem with the old man," Declan speaks up,
first time since they've sat down.

Joseph, in the same league as far as position at Camp Rufghup, says, "Looks
like Zack has rehabilitated you somewhat, from last summer, Declan?"

The others might not have the insight Joseph has, but Declan treats it
calmly, "Yeah," but steers the conversation far away from last summer's
camp experience, "I'm looking forward to doing some Warrior training. You
know, one with nature and all that stuff?"

Seeing Declan was playing it cool, Joseph did the same, "Yeah. Me too."

Locking eyes, it wasn't too plain for the others not to see, yet no one
provoked either into leveling with them.

"Good news and I don't know if this is bad news..." Zack was stuffing his
pocket with his cell.

"Can we have the good news first?" LL asks, thinking it was about Vlad.

"My father has released Vlad from his servitude, but of even greater
concern, it seems, by the end of this week, my brother will be setting foot
on the camp," and knowing how this pertains to Declan, Zack slips, "which I
don't know how you feel about that, Dec?"

Taking a deep, deep breath, Declan exhales, folding his arms across his
middle, bowing his chin into his chest, like he wanted to roll up into a
tumbleweed and blow away.

`Father' of the table, which on all accounts should have been LL, Joseph
explains in a simple and concise manner, "You see, Declan had a run in with
Zack's brother last summer. It didn't end too swift for either one."

They seemed to all buy it, except Jose, saying, "Unless it's a secret, it
would be nice to know, in case it should come up while he's here?"

Then they all agreed, Joseph once more trying to lead them astray, "This is
between Zack's brother and Declan, and I think we should keep it that way."

Jose loosens his hold on Tom's thigh, long enough to reflect on Joseph's
words, thinking, `how sweet!' Someone else might have thought of Jose's
thinking, `what's the big deal?', but watching a mighty warrior of a man,
show another man kindness, seeing Declan show some calm, in retrospect of
the personality flashed, there appeared to be a softness showing through
that heavily laden, meanness of a man.

It's the reason Jose agrees, "Joseph's right," moving past this, "what's
next on the agenda, L?"

In particular, singling out the voice, his old friend, LL seemed to have a
private agenda on his mind. He remembers the first time he met Jose, never
forgetting the man on Sy's doorstep and then all the events in
between. Mostly, pertaining to right now, if it wasn't for Jose Bodego, LL
would not have even thought about entering a Warrior's event, `The Great
Divide'.

Particularly, for his own thinking, the titling of the event had dual
meaning, but for now, since the papers, with all the schematics in his
hand, pertaining to right now, LL went with the `clean' meaning of his
thinking, "Ahem," LL cleared his thoughts, as well as his throat, "I
usually leave my artist skills to my graphic designer, but these are some
ideas I have come up with."

Who else but Jose could immediately get away with making fun of LL, moving
the first sketch from corner to corner, fingering the paper, "Does it go
like this, or this, L?"

"Shuddup!" LL says to his friend, grabbing the paper, "Don't you know the
ground when you see it, Jo?!"

"Oh!" Jose exclaims, ready to pounce on LL's artwork once again, "Is that
grass? I thought it was a man's chest!"

Of course, all horny men, not at the moment, but Jose's portrayal of an
artist surveying a piece of art renders, his comment becomes the laughing
stock of the small gathering.

Wanting like hell to get in on it, stuck in his job of scrubbing a pot,
Arch Geller, also appointed Camp Rufghup chef, earning a few more pennies
above and beyond his camp counselor position, places a hand on LL's left
shoulder, right hand on Jose's right, "I hope all this hullabaloo is over
the meal you guys just ate?"

When joined as a team, LL and Jose could pretty much guess what the other
was thinking, combining forces to stare up at Arch.

Which made the chef rethink his relaxed gesture, lifting his hands, as if
touching 2 hot pots, "Oh, sorry `bout that!"

However, the others weren't paying their undivided attention to what LL and
Jose thought, as much as the apron Arch wore. Declan was the only exception
to the rest, wondering what was under the food-splattered garment. Of
course, Arch, being in the kitchen and instituting a criteria for
cleanliness, didn't see fit to strip down completely, only the shirt. His
means of trying to keep cool in a hot environment, provoking others to use
their imagination.

Moving along, LL says, "Well, I suppose with these schematics I've drawn
up, everyone is going to be hungry after a few hours work."

Passing some sketches around, Arch picks one up, "Hmm, looks like a frame
with a weaving of nets," the 40-year old replies, picturing in his mind,
not an activity which could be men climbing up and over the apparatus, but
rather a man tethered to it, `enjoying' a nice long, `suntanning' session!

Jose thought, anyone could have made the right assumption, asking, "And
what do you think it's for?"

Right away, in his mind, Arch was thinking, a man with his back to it, a
pole in the balance, his arms attached to it, second thoughts on the rope
and wood frame, this would make a fine piece of apparatus for toughening up
a man's abs, with fists, but knowing about the Warrior-thing, "Climb over
it, I assume?"

"And do you think you can do it?" Jose looks up to Arch.

"Sure. Piece of cake!" Arch says, rubbing his hands together, as if making
his 2000th pizza!

"I have just one question to run by you?" Joseph brings up a question,
which would balance out the whole idea, "How is all this elaborate setup
going to materialize," he waves a hand above their heads, "out of thin
air?"

"I had thoughts on that," of course LL would, being the CEO of his own very
successful company, not rising to the top in his industry on notions,
guesses, nor hunches, "we order all of the supplies we need from Ed and
when the campers arrive," LL smiles here, a wider grin than Batman's
arch-evil enemy, `the Joker', "Why, haven't you ever heard of `slave
labor'?"

Something struck Joseph, a feeling no less stronger than awesome, thinking
on those words.

Not the only one, he and Arch exchange smiles.

Joseph finds a greater, affectionate feeling for LL, "I'd like to help make
your ideas come to fruition?"

All along, LL has had this sneaky suspicion, Joseph not falling below a
college education, "I know in the Camp Rufghup itinerary it mentions we
should refrain about talking up our personal lives, but if you wouldn't
mind giving me a hint as to what you do for a living, Joseph?"

"Um," Joseph thought on it, not sure he wanted to give in to pressure,
settling for a job he once held in the distant past, "taught social studies
to inner city high school students."

First person in his life who ever doubted him, LL speaks up, "Right and
what do you do now?"

"What?" he was dumbfounded. "How did you..."

"Maybe you should have taken up some English in college. `taught' is past
tense?" LL smartened up with a smile, rather than sneaky and condoning look
upon his face.

"I was never that good at English, nor really fooling people. I still work
with inner city youth, but not a big, big city and I'm what they call a
crisis mediator, working with students who have problems at home, which
reflect on their abilities to excel in school. I try to straighten them
out, but what I've learned you can only try. Some get it and some continue
to fail. You can't save everyone!" Joseph delivered his job source, like it
was a politician's speech.

"That's surprising," Jose says to Joseph.

"What is?"

"Asking how all of this is going to come together, when maybe you should
have some answers for us?" Jose replies.

"You think so, do you?" Joseph says to Jose, just staring, with an entirely
different subject on his mind. His cock was pulsing in his pants, wanting
Jose. If it wasn't for all the others being around them, he would have
fallen to his knees, unbuckled Jose's pants, parked briefs under balls and
went right to work pleasuring the Latino. `Who knows?' it inundated his
thoughts, wanting to get together with Jose before camp was over. If there
was going to be another summer of Camp Rufghup, he had hoped Jose would be
there, but if not, at least he would have some kind of experience with him
this summer. By all means, no chance would he go against Tom, if indeed the
two had something going. It was just not out of his mind yet, a big man
himself, if one was tied down to the other, he wasn't opposed to a
three-man relationship!

Next thing they know, in walks Casper and his cameraman, Roahn, Casper
asking, "We didn't know what time dinner was. You don't happen to have a
crust of bread leftover and a glass of water?"

Declan asks, "Have either of you seen Orrin, by chance?"

Roahn, usually a wisecracker, which would be only known to his friend
Casper, replies, "Orrin? Who's Orrin?"

Another one who has met Orrin, backs Roahn up, "Orrin? Is that a woman or a
man?" Zack questions them all.

Smirking, Declan asks, "Does `Orrin' really sound like a woman's name?"

"Wait," Zack further carries the deception, "is that a first name or a last
name?"

Arch, who still hung around, says, "Don't worry about Orrin. He's probably
out with some guy, up in the old shed," he laughs.

"Shed? What shed?" Zack asks. He gets knee-nudged under the table!

Fortunately, that went right over everyone's head. Going on Arch's
assumptions, the talk turned back to the round table, Zack telling them, "I
was in contact with Vlad, our family limo driver and soon as he packed, he
would be on his way out here."

LL says, "If he's an authority on Warrior events, then he'll be key in
where the different stations should be placed, about the camp terrain."

"It's a drive to the airport and then an hours' flight," Zack replies, "so
I'd say he'll be here in about 2 hours."

Getting out of his seat, LL says, "Who's in, for a trip to the lumberyard?"

Fortunately, the camp had a rugged 4x4 truck, with an extended bed. That,
along with the truck Roahn drove up in and Declan's truck, LL had a good
idea a major portion of wood and equipment would be going back with them,
maybe all of it.

Another part of the equation missing, Ed had taken the evening off to show
the new security force around the camp.

Some of the others they talked with, thought the lumber mill had an account
or some other means of reimbursement with Camp Rufghup. For now though,
Declan, knowing about the barter system, was keeping what he knew quiet!

%

Copyright 2013 T. Chase McPhee

`Giv2GeT', and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made
part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.