Date: Wed, 16 May 2007 11:00:33 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: ROAD TRIP  the gathering

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, nor governmental areas,
which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving
male-to-male relationships offences 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. This is fiction. Use protection, in real
life.

ROAD TRIP  the gathering
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

Knowning better than to sneak up on a man with a
chainsaw operating in his hands, Nicholas waited til
Sep cut the motor.

"Need some help there, Sep?" He yelled out from ten
feet away.

A few feet behind, Anthony and Adam followed, Roberto
behind him, pushing Randy along the walkway at the
rear of the mansion.

"Quite a mess the wind caused last night," the
eighteen year old gardner says, adding, "I sure could
use the help. It's beautiful out here this morning,
but last night wasn't kind to me!"

"Well," Nicholas says, unbuttoning his shirt, "many
hands make light work."

"But this is my job."

"The pool can fend for itself today," Nicholas shares
with him.

Removing his shirt, he tosses it over an iron chair,
stationery in the yard.

"Looks like Nicholas means business," Adam Steel says,
going for the buttons on his own shirt.

Anthony follows suit, peeling the sweatshirt he has
on, over his head.

"Nicholas looks like he works out," Adam tells
Anthony.

"Almost everyday. I have a gym in the basement, you're
welcome to use. Nicholas can show you later. It's his
job to maintain it."

"I was curious to what he did around here," Adam says.

"He's a sort of jack-of-all-trades, but Sep takes on
the gardening chores."

"Kind of young, I'd say."

"Sep? He's eighteen, but he's been caring for the
grounds since his family passed on."

"Oh? How long has that been?"

"A couple of years. Even while going to high school,
he took care of most of the grounds. Once in awhile
Nicholas gave him a hand mowing the lawn. Now Ethan
takes on that responsibility."

"Ethan. He was the other fellow in the back seat when
I pulled you over."

"Good memory. He's nineteen now and going to
Applegate."

"The university you teach at?"

"You have a good memory Adam, amoung other things!"

Anthony made light of the fact it looked as if Adam
has already seen the inside of a gym, regularly.
Standing at five feet, eleven inches tall, he was
mainly smooth, little blond wisps of hair around his
nips, a deeper colored treasure trail that dove into
the beltline of his pants.

"Yeah, well, I am anxious to use the gym, after our
workout, out here!"

Getting right to work, Adam followed Nicholas, Anthony
tagging along. Together, the three broke down Sep's
sawings off, into different size piles, according to
size. Taking up some twine, Adam took on the smaller
pieces, making bundles of kindling. Nicholas and
Anthony hauled some of the larger pieces to a stump.
Nicholas then manned the ax, chopping them into
smaller pieces. Anthony doubled back to the sidewalk.

"How are you making out, Randy?"

"Good."

Roberto, sitting in a chair he brought out from the
pool area, says, "It's not everyday we get to watch
four barechested men working up a sweat!"

The comment makes Randy smile and say, "I bet Nicky
will be sore later."

"I don't know," Anthony says, rubbing his chin, "I'd
rather think he's enjoying the workout."

"You would know, I guess," Randy says.

"Anthony?"

"What?" He asks Roberto.

"You have little wood particles all in your hair."

Anthony shakes his head.

"Not there."

Next, Anthony looks downwards, tilting his chin.

"Oh. There ya mean."

He brushes the hair on his chest. Little pieces of
`white' brush off.

"You missed a piece," Roberto says, plucking it out of
his chest hair and pinging it away.

"Well, I better get back to work."

"I'll make you some lemonade," Roberto offers.

"That would be refreshing," Anthony yells back.

What a sight to see four barechested men, working up a
sweat. Nicholas dripping, wiping the sweat off his
brow, rubbing his muscled bod, planing the sweat from
it. Throwing the ax into the stump, he walks over to
where his shirt is. Taking it up, he uses it like a
towel, dabbing at each pit, motioning it up and down
over the front of his bod.

"Looks like we'll have a lot of laundry to do,"
Roberto mentions to Randy.

"Isn't today laundry day?" Randy inquires of him.

"Yes, but we can do it tomorrow."

"Why?" Randy asks. "I mean, we're not doing anything
to help out?"

"You're suppose to be taking it easy, Randy. Doctor's
orders."

"I know. But I think he meant doing stuff like
chopping up wood. Heck, laundry is nothing compare to
gathering up the mess from the storm."

Not that the laundry couldn't be left til tomorrow,
but the fact of Randy wanting to do something normal,
Roberto went to tell Anthony. Looking up from breaking
smaller branches from a long log, Anthony smiled at
Randy, as they exchanged glances.

"It's okay?" Randy asked Roberto, returning from
telling Anthony.

"Right after we make the lemonade."

"Cool!" Randy said, the first real spark of happiness
Roberto's seen, since the ordeal.

Moving his chair out of the way, Randy twirled his own
handicapped chair around, Roberto stepping behind it.

"You almost ran my foot over!" Roberto joked.

"Sorry."

"No problem."

Getting closer to the back entrance, Roberto held the
door while Randy propelled himself over the doorsill.
A small incline, Roberto had to give an ounce of
assistance to make it over.

"I prolly could have gotten up, pulled the chair over
and sat down in it again," Randy says, energetically.

"Maybe, but you're supposed to be taking it easy."

"I wonder when I can stop using this?"

"When the doctor says so. Why?" Roberto asks, sensing
something more.

"Well, Nicky and I haven't been having sex, like
before."

"That's because you're supposed to take it easy." Then
Roberto thinks, "You're not having any sex at all?"

"We're lying in bed. Nicky tries to be careful not to
touch the scars too much, but they are just everywhere
on my body, so....."

As they are talking, Roberto feels Randy falling back
down, out of the excitement of doing the laundry.

"Well, doesn't it still hurt?"

"Somewhat. Mostly my chest. Like Nicky, they punched
me in the stomach, but not as much as they did it to
him."

"Does your stomach hurt?"

"No. I just have a couple of welts there, but..."

"But what?" Roberto asks, rolling Randy into the
kitchen.

"Roberto, Nicky never says anything."

"About what?"

Roberto takes many lemons from the fridge, placing
them on the kitchen island.

"He never says if he is hurting."

"Did you ask?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure he's telling me the truth."

"Well, I hardly doubt he could be out there heaving an
ax, chopping up wood, working up such a sweat and be
hurting."

"Do you think he's really okay?"

"I think so. Right now I think he's more thinking
about you getting well."

"I want to get well. I want things to be as best they
can for us. I love Nicky so much and want things to be
right between us."

Roberto, feeling as much for Randy, as if a brother,
squats down, touches Randy's shoulder, being careful
not to touch a sore spot, renders, "Things will get
better soon. I can feel it."

"You do?"

"Yup. In fact, why don't you see if you can stand and
cut all those lemons in half?"

"I can do that!" Randy responds with new hope.

Roberto monitors his work, while getting out some
sugar and ice.

"Whew! Got anything to drink? Randy? What are you
doing out of your chair?"

"I'm cutting up lemons, why Nicky?"

"The doctor says you need to stay in your chair."

"My fault," Roberto says.

"No it's not. I felt like doing something, instead of
acting like an invalid."

"But I thought," Nicholas keeps on, "your feet hurt
from the cuffs."

"Mostly my ankles. I think I can stand for awhile."

Nicholas smiles, saying, "Okay. If you think so, but
if you get tired, I want you back in your chair!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" Randy salutes him.

"Sorry I scared you," Roberto says to Nicholas.

"No. I'm glad to see him up. I suppose I'm just being
over cautious."

"Could be you love him madly, too," Roberto says.

"That could be it," Nicholas says, pointing his
finger.

Randy jokes, "Something smells!"

"Couldn't be me, could it?"

Nicholas holds up his left arm and smells his own pit.

"Yup! It's me alright!"

"Then will you take it outside?" Randy says, in light
humor.

"Not without a kiss first."

"Are your lips clean?"

"Do you really care?" Nicholas poses to Randy.

A small smile, a glint in his eye, a slight puckering
of his lips, speaks for him.
Within fifteen minutes, Roberto carries two pitchers
on a tray while plastic cups sit in Randy's lap, as
the two ferry the lemonade and accessories out the
back door.

"At least it's all downhill," Randy quips.

"Yup," Roberto says, "No sweat."

"Wow, Adam's really getting red."

"Such white skin, unlike our own men."

"You call the guys over. I'll run back inside and get
some lotion."

"Sure," Randy said, starting to get back to normal.

The table had residue from the storm on it, so Roberto
set the tray on the sidewalk. It worked out anyway.
Randy got out of his chair, poured three cups and held
all three in his hands, like a triangle. Standing up,
he was able to carry them. First he came upon Adam,
who thanked him, taking sips. Next, he gave Anthony a
glass, then Nicholas. He didn't dare approach Sep,
whom still manned the chainsaw.

"I'll relieve Sep," Nicholas said to Randy.

"Have you ever worked a chainsaw, Nicky?"

"A few times I helped Sep prune the apple orchard."

"Oh. Okay. Well, be careful."

"I will."

Randy poured a glass of lemonade, holding it for Sep,
who traded off the chainsaw, then walked across the
lawn for his drink.

"Does Nicky know how to use that?" Randy asked, for
double safety's sake.

"Sure. Him and I worked the orchard a few times.
Mmm... this lemonade is good," the eighteen year old
seemed to gulp the whole thing in one swig. "Can I
please have some more?"

"Sure."

Sep watched as Randy squatted down to retrieve another
glass for him. It's obvious it pained him to do so.
Adam was paying attention, but not to Randy!

"Still hurts, huh?"

"What?"

"Your injuries?" Sep asks, with precise.

"A little. It's impossible to stay completely still
and live a life."

"I hear ya."

"So, are you and Ethan still hitting it off?" Randy
asks, curiously.

"Um... right now we're giving it a rest."

Adam felt good about Sep's reply.

"What happened? It seemed like you were developing
some type of relationship," when I nailed you on the
road," Adam speaks up.

"We have. I think it's more on a `friends' basis," Sep
replies.

"That's cool though," Randy says.

"Yeah. He's really into his classes at Applegate."

"And you?" Adam jumps in.

"Anthony says I have to start thinking about it, that
the longer I put it off, the more chance I will have
of forgetting about going to college."

"You should listen to him," Adam replies.

"I know."

"What field interests you, Sep?" Randy asks.

"I want to eventually learn more about plants and
shrubs, but for now I want to pursue a business
career. Maybe in four or five years I could start up
my own landscaping business. I like the outdoors."

"Is that so?" Adam says, catching the tale end of the
conversation.

"Right," the eighteen year old says.

Same time, Roberto comes out of the house with the sun
lotion.

"Here's the lotion."

%

2B continued...

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