Date: Sat, 1 Nov 2014 18:30:51 -0400
From: TCHASE MCPHEE <survivalgame@outlook.com>
Subject: FiRE iSLAND BiKiNiS ~ ?MAkiNG WaRRioRs? 19

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.


Various states and countries have various rules regarding reading or
viewing `adult material'. It is up to the reader to research this subject,
abiding by their own laws. The 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.


Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have,
over the years, consider adding some support for `internet $pace'.
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html


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




%




FiRE iSLAND BiKiNiS ~ `MAkiNG WaRRioRs' 19
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee


^o^


%


Business-wise, what Jared thought would be a breeze of a Monday, was such
the case. From J&J main store, JT had to report everything was copacetic,
sales up, store nice and tidy, with only a minimum of call outs for a
bright, sunny, summer day. From the satellite store, same story.


Small island, big news travels fast, Jesse taking time out from his early
morning surfing, to make the update call.


At Jay's Surf Shop, who was running the show was kind of sketchy, Jared
getting a text from Bron, same boring story, with the only important facts,
concerning sales up and always a factor in the mix of things, employee
moral up as well.


The Nook, in transition, some former employees, mixed with the new...


"Well, that's certainly a good feeling."


"What is?" Derek takes liberty to share the shower without asking.


Not minding it a bit, Jared, most of the time it took running out of hot
water to get him out of the shower, "Having responsible people in the right
places. Like, I could be gone for a week and when I came back, things would
be the same, except sales!"


"I take it you're happy with where you are?" Derek asks, taking up the
forefront, the cavity of Jared's bod.


Because he was the first one in, Jared stands behind Derek, and not feeling
a bit forward, soaps up his front, over and over and over, still going at
it, nice and slow, fingers and thumbs running over chest-nips, down the
sleek abs, feeling the ripples, justifying Derek's visits to the gym, thus
his words, "Right now, I'm definitely glad I am where I... are?"


Barely out of teen-hood, Derek says, "Yeah, my cock is telling me the same
thing!"


Things were getting cozy, comfy, Jared's woes slipping away, until he sees
a nose nuzzle the shower curtain away.


"Hey, you got a call!" Joseph says, handing Jared his cell phone.


"Joseph, I'm like all wet?!" Jared scolds.


"I can see that. Yeah, plenty more than soap suds going on in there!"
Joseph laughs, pulling the phone away, just as Jared is about to go for it.


Jared shut the curtain, mainly to shut Joseph out. Not the only one with
ears falling on harsh words, Jared tells Thor, "And I suppose he told you
to do that?!"


Thor gets a wet pet. Joseph gets the boot!


Of course, he only used the phone to see what was happening behind the
curtain, "That was Jay. He says to drop what you're doing and hustle over
to the hospital."


Seconds pass, Jared telling him, "That's nice. What did he really say?"


"He's fine, but worried about his little `Nash'," Joseph says snidely.


It could've worked out a little nicer for Derek, if Thor and Joseph hadn't
stuck their noses into their business, yet was patient. Breaking up the
sweetness of the moment, Jared's hands feel a void in washing his own bod,
Derek takes to rinsing himself off. Not which he was jealous, the
conversation all about Jared's brother, he knew time for some innocent
lovemaking was waning thin.


Both on the same page, they hear Joseph's whistling fade, tempting Thor out
of the room with a call for breakfast.


"We should get out."


Jared was apologetic, yet had a sense of disappointment too, "I'm sorry for
the interruption."


Knowing, Derek says, "Family comes first, even though I envy you and Jay."


Already fond of Derek, Jared, tossing him a towel, says, "Stick
around. Maybe we can adopt you!"


Derek sensed something more there, but didn't say anything, drying his
pubes.


When they got to the breakfast table, Jared asks, "What's that?" on the
plate.


Derek uses the knife to look under it.


"Pop tarts. My own special recipe. Why?" Joseph asks, no emotion shown as
he slices and dices his own.


"I thought so," Derek wasn't really sure.


Jared, lifting the soggy wafer, "No, I mean what did you do to it?"


"Just he usual, added some workout ingredients to it... a little protein
powder, pomegranate juice so it doesn't dry your tongue out, nuked it
and..."


"Thanks for the vivid description, Joseph," Jared has heard enough.


All done, Joseph stands, "All I have to do is throw a shirt on and I'll be
all ready."


Derek, looking at Joseph, packed boxer shorts, "Uh, I'd strongly suggest
`pants'?"


Looking down, Joseph says, "Oh yeah. I forgot!"


Jared just rolls his eyes, saying, "Joseph likes to get noticed!"


"Well, he sure does in one department!" Derek chuckles.


A weird look comes over Jared's face, "You're eating that stuff?"


"If you don't want yours, I'll take it?"


To which Jared pushes his untouched, piled up poptarts towards Derek, "I'll
get some coffee later."


It's something Derek missed, "Oh yeah. I guess Joseph doesn't drink
coffee?"


"Never did. Says it cuts down on testosterone production. Whether it does,"
Jared lays out the facts, "I think it's still in the research stages."


Like proud, Derek says, "I've been drinking since I was in high
school. Hasn't diminished my testosterone production any!"


Which brought things full circle, "You never did get to unload for the
second time last night?"


Derek just ate, not saying anything, but tried not smiling.


"What?" Jared wonders what's up with that.


"Joseph really knows how to please his house guests!"


Pushing himself away from the table, Jared says, "I need coffee."


Way ahead of Joseph, Jared and Derek head out to the hospital, Jared
delivering the news to Thor, he could not go with them!


On the way, they stop at The Nook, which Jared was glad, the sign man
there, changing the logo above the door.


He just had to ask, "Is it that hot out?" seeing his old college bud, on
the ladder, shirtless.


"It wasn't, but it is now!" Derek exclaims.


Knowing some dirt on his friend, Jared says, "I think Jarrod's still
single, if you play your cards right..."


"Oh really?" Derek cuts him off, "I thought I already was!"


"Oh shit!" Jarrod calls out, near the top rung, feeling the ladder
shake. "Oh, it's you. I should've known," he starts down.


"Nice tattoo," Jared traces the squared off design on Jarrod's big bicep.


Before Jared could say, Jarrod is asking, "Kind of young to be your
boyfriend?" he eyes up Derek.


Derek's mouth was drooling for those incredibly muscled pecs, hair rounding
out both, "We never got that far," he's quick to jump at.


Accordance with Jared's thinking, it seemed it could have been heading in
that direction, but throws it off, "Friends. How about you, Jarrod? Any
love interests?"


Smiling, staring at Derek, his 34-year old bud replies, "Not yet!"


He wasn't ready to give up on Jared, yet didn't want to let Jarrod slip
away, "You wouldn't happen to be into dating 2 guys at once?"


Placing his sweaty arm on Jared's shoulder, Jarrod says, "As long as my bud
here is number three!"


They were happy-go-lucky in college, even though Jared is 27 and Jarrod
34. In younger days, meeting at a bar, neither one would back down at a
beer fest, which happened to be Derek's first question, how they met.


Second question, Jarrod says, "I'd like to answer all your questions, but I
have a full schedule today. Maybe we can meet for drinks later?" he places
the proposition on both of their plates.


Walking away, Derek says, after watching Jarrod climb the ladder, "I'd sure
like to get in his pants!"


Jared smiles, saying, "I've already been there. Trust me, you've got a real
treat coming your way!"


Quizzical look on his face, Derek asks, "You okay with threeways?"


"As long as one doesn't hog the other!" Jared replies, both walking away,
not sure if Derek got a jolt out of it, but felt the smile on his face!


"You sound like you know?" Derek becomes curious.


"Well, four is a little more divisible than three, but can be quite
entertaining."


Maybe assuming too much, Derek asks, "Wow? When was this?"


"Where else, but college!" Jared laughs.


Derek laughs along, even though, starting college a year later, he hadn't
experienced what a lot of guys do in this time frame, more proficient from
his high school skills at achieving a high grade point, but acts like he's
seen it all, "Right."


Walking past a shop, Jared does a double take, retracing his
steps. Standing there, panning the storefront, he says, "Looks like the
same place," upon which his head drops back, looks up, then down again.


"Huh?" is all Derek could say about it.


"Van den Broeck's Antiques."


"Um, the sign says, `my junk could be yours', dah?"


"Case in point," Jared steps closer, placing a hand over his eyes, peers
in, "like this summer so much has changed... I wonder if Willem is about?"


Doing the same, Derek faces the window with his crotch, hand helping him to
see inside, curious, "Who's Willem?"


"Got a minute?" Jared asks, but doesn't wait for reply, stepping around
Derek.


Derek short-giggled, like did he have a choice, "Sure."


Whether he had a choice or not, sometimes, someone else's decision works
for the better!


"Oh wow!"


"Yeah," Jared agrees, "nice junk, huh? Hey, Willem, what's with the sign
change?"


Obvious they weren't on the same page, Jared's topic regarding oddities or
some recognizable items, Derek's mind in another realm, checking out the
dude on the tall stepstool.


Back facing away from them, Willem wasn't too far up the steps, fixing a
cuckoo clock on a cross beam, "Jared! Long time, no see!" arms remained up,
head dipping below the long wooded plank.


Second, "Wow," Derek tried keeping his opinion of Willem's face secretive,
along with how the apron was a bit tented!


"Yeah, it's been a long time," Jared replies.


Coming down the ladder, Derek couldn't help it, following whatever it was,
an erection or just that Willem had a big `junkyard'!


Derek wasn't the only one into assuming, Willem getting around touchy
subjects, like if this was Jared's boyfriend, "I didn't know you had
another brother?"


Crinkling up his lips, like Willem should know better, Jared sarcastically
says, "You didn't know Jay had a twin?"


Willem's face show the opinion, `like, what the fuck?', but questions, "Are
you sure?"


First Derek was smiling, but now laughed out loud, enjoying the bit by bit
conversation, like two comedians doing battle. However, it was the perfect
invitation, "I'm not Jay's twin. I'm not even family." Extending a hand,
"Hi, I'm Derek, Jared's friend," he made it plain.


Willem had quite a few gay couples in the shop, especially summer, during
`Pride' and other times. He was `very' good at scoping out people much like
himself. Like right now, "Just friends?"


Taking chances, part of life, Derek goes for broke, "You, me and Jared
should get together sometime!"


Slowly, decisively, as caught at his own game, Willem says, "Oh-h-h
really?"


Showing why that should be, Derek takes a look down, see what the story is,
"Hmm, I think it got bigger since you were on the ladder!" he laughs.


Favorite past time, being the `left out third', Jared rolls his eyes,
pretending to look at a vase.


All serious-like, the 27-year old shopkeeper speculates, "You weren't by
chance checking me out?"


Answering a question with a question, Derek says, "What do you think?"


Finally, enough with the gay drama, Jared butts in, "I think we better
go. Jay's waiting."


Of course, Willem had heard `something' about what happened last night,
Jared filling him in on the short version.


"The poor guy," Willem laments.


He could have let it go, use his routine excuse for ignoring a dude, but
it's not the way Willem felt, saying, "Hold on a minute. Lemme get my
keys. I'll go with you."


A bit of pranking on his mind, Jared says, "Oh, but what about all those
big bucks you're going to make today, Willem?"


He had an answer for everything, "But I didn't tell you why I changed the
name and I'm sure it will tear you apart all day, if you don't know?"


Jared went with it, Willem pacing along with them.


At least once along the way, after Willem caught up to Derek, turning one
and one into two, Jared rolls his eyes, hearing a pick up line, "Y'know,
I'm kind of partial to guys with blond hair?"


Jared had to snicker. As Jay had often marveled, catching Willem at the
beach with his surfboard, there was more to the Dutch man's heritage than a
blond head of hair. He didn't doubt it, Derek finding out some time!


Entering the hospital, all on one floor, some basement space, Jared checked
in. Willem apparently knew the guard, but the burly security man had an
occasional eye set on Derek. After a bit of chit-chat, he turns, asks
Willem, "So, what's his story?"


It looked like Derek hid behind Willem, but wasn't at all intimidated by
the short bear, wielding a gun, "Hey, I'm Derek," he handed the guard his
hand.


Willem did the intro, very informally, "Now, Derek, if you're interested in
a hot threeway, this is the man to see!"


In a nutshell, Derek had learned the guard, Mose, short for Moses, had much
experience on affairs with 3, 4, or more partners, "So, anytime you want to
get your feet wet, young man?"


To look at him, Derek didn't think Mose the soft-spoken type, but he was
totally wrong and very mannerly, as opposed to how he looked, like a tough
mudder muscle bear, "Thanks. We'll think about it."


Willem smiled, at the surprise gesture, Derek making his answer in the
plural sense, "Right, but we won't think too long!"


Nodding his head sideways, like he had a muscle bent out of place, Mose
says, "I get off at six, if y'all are in the mood?"


>From the accent, Derek had in mind the vicinity of where Mose called home,
"Are you from the south?"


He was indeed, but much farther south, "That I am," he never took his eyes
off Derek, "Montego Bay, then a little farther south and to the west."


He could excel at some subjects, but geography, Derek asks, "That's near
Malibu, right?"


Setting Derek straight, it was like Mose was nuzzling Willem out of
conversation, "You're kidding me, right?"


"No," Derek didn't mean it as so.


"Malibu is west of us?"


"Oh right," Derek giggles, slapping himself on the side of the face, taking
another shot at it, "near New Orleans?"


Changing his accent on purpose, Mose could off turn off the `southern' and
turn on the, "Jamaica?"


Clapping his hands together, making an arrow with his index finger, Derek
says, like he's won a contest, "Queens! That was my next answer!"


He was an easy man to like, Mose with mutual respects, to like someone, but
especially if the other guy was sweet, kind, dumb... Placing a hand on
Derek's shoulder, like he was talking to his son, Mose furthers, "Son,
you've got a lot to learn about the world. Jamaica, it's an island in the
Caribbean?"


Mouth wide open before speech begins to flow, Derek says, "Oh-h yeah-h-h, I
forgot about that Jamaica!" And, like he's always known, "Yeah, Montego
Bay. I know it!"


"You've been there?"


"Um," as if Derek had to think about it for 3 seconds, "No. I've only been
to a few places, like New York, Jersey, uh, Connecticut once for a
wedding."


"Son," again the fatherly approach, confident hand placed on Derek's
shoulder, "you have to get yourself there someday..." Reminiscing over the
beauty, Mose gets carried away, "The sun, it shines all day and..."


"Really?"


Realizing he was carrying Derek along on the magic carpet ride, Mose
correct himself, "No, not really. I mean, how will we have any fun if the
sun don't go down!"


He was cute, real cute, Derek being swept along, especially on the `sun go
down' part and he didn't care if Mose was twice his age or there about,
"When?"


Having been the daddy-son relationship before, getting burned, Mose asks,
"Have you got a job?"


"Not yet. I just got here. Maybe Jared will give me one," Derek had hoped,
even though he hadn't shot the question.


Blunt about it, though he would not really mind footing the bill for
airline tickets and more, Mose suggests, "You get yourself that job, son
and put some away for vacation, and I'll take you on a trip you will never
forget!"


"How would you mean that?" Derek replies.


Taking the baseball cap off Derek's head, turning the flap around so it
hung over his forehead, Mose says, "The visor is in the front now, right?"


"Yea-h-h-h-h," Derek said, almost as a question.


"That is my answer!" Mose smiles.


"Do you have any Jamaican buds who are into three or more-ways?"


Half southern-part Jamaican, Mose tells it like it is, "You are crazy,
boy!"


Standing there, being patient as hell, Willem asks, "Done?"


"Did you hear that? Mose is taking me to Jamaica!" Derek was so excited.


"Don't hold your breath. You're not the only one whom he has promised that
same trip to," Willem replies. With Mose going back to his little square
office, "I think it's safe to sneak in. Remember, we came here to see Jay?"


When Jared had entered Jay's room, he was told Jay had rolled himself over
to Nash's room.


Nash shared with another guy he hadn't met, but found out he was a surfing
enthusiast enrolled at Warrior One. Perturbed, a little bent out of shape,
Jared had wondered why Jesse had not called him some kid had fallen on his
board and hit his head on the bailout.


Filing it in the back of his mind, he headed to Scott's room, where in
turn, he was holed up in Adam's room.


Apparently, of the three, Scott was the only one who escaped the ordeal
with minimal amount of injury. Originally, it was thought he had a broken
rib, but it wasn't and other than sore balls, he was able to sit up, walk
around and then confine himself to a chair, doctor's orders.


Other than a broken nose, Nash was fine in all other capacities.


Worst case, was Adam, foretold by Joseph, as a result of busting through
the glass coffee table, had a slash down his arm. Laid out in a hospital
bed, he was weakened due to surgery and recovery, catching Jared off guard
with a very weak, nasal sounding, "He-ey, Jared."


"Hey, yourself," Jared rushes over, scanning the 19-year old, eye affixed
to the bandaged left arm, "I'm sorry your tattoo is ruined."


"Great line, bro," Jay ridicules his brother.


Staring across the room at Jay, Jared mocks, "I'm glad you're all right,
dear brother, you do it your way and I'm do it mine?"


Everyone in the room knew the two share some secrets, one of them, they
could never really get angry at each other.


"I..." Adam tried talking, it coming nasal-sounding, tubes up both
nostrils, "um, sorry... for..."


Woozy yet, Scott speaks up, "He wants to tell you we're sorry for fucking
up last night."


Not which he was about to let it go, but place it on the back burner,
"Let's get everyone healthy and out of the hospital, then we'll talk about
it?"


It seemed like Scott's answer was a groan, but truth is, whenever he
shifted about in his chair, his balls ached, saying, "That wasn't meant for
you, like I'm still tender," he points, "down there?"


Cracking a little smile, Jared says, "I kinda got the feeling. So, how are
the little ones?"


Jay has seen them in the raw, as well as his brother, defending, "They
might be sore, but trust me, they haven't diminished in size any."


Disturbing thought, to Scott, he inquires, "Oh? And how would you know,
`Jay'?"


Jay clams up, mouth making a circle, like he was about to whistle, "Um," he
comes clean, "because when Nash was sitting with me, we looked across the
way. Like, it was the doc's fault, for leaving the door open while he was
examining you?"


Jared gets his bro off the hook, "You have to watch for Jay. He sees all,
knows all!"


"Apparently," Scott says, "though no one told you you guys `had' to look?",
but is uncaring. If he knew, it would have been more than the doc checking
out the family jewels getting him hard!


A lull occurring, Nash brings up an idea he and Jay have already hashed it
out, "Jared?"


"Yes?" he was ready for some punchy punch line, but coming from Nash,
realizes it's not.


"Me and Jay... I mean Jay and I, we thought it would be good if, when we're
free to go, we could go back to my place to live for a while?"


Already prepped in his mind, Jay dictates, "I'm not going back to live in
that place. You can bring my cactus and succulents to me."


Adam falling asleep, Scott goes to him, to make sure he isn't dead.


"It's up to you," Jared has slowly been surrendering to Jay's independent
nature, blooming.


"And I want a credit card for Nash, because he's going to have to go out
and buy stuff, when I can't."


Jared responds, "Do I need a pen and paper? Is there going to be a list?"


Before, without someone staying in his life for more than 48 hours, Jay was
reluctant to think about his future. Now, with more reassurance Nash wasn't
going to leave him high and dry, "Nash and me are going to live together. I
want him to have some security."


"Not sure I fully understand," Jared decides this independence thing is
starting to take hold, "but being you have your own business now and taking
on more responsibility, you should be able to make your own
decisions. Like, you don't have to ask me for a credit card for..." he
wasn't sure exactly what Nash was to his brother, "a friend?"


"Really?" Jay questions. "I have that power?"


Tightening up on giving Jay carte blanche right now, "For issuing `one'
credit card?"


"Cool," Scott says, sitting painfully down in the chair, "can I have one
too?"


Pranking his brother, Jay says, "Sure. No problem, Scott!"


Knowing, Jared replies, "Sure, Scott. Soon as you get a job?"


"Oh, you're not going to pay my bill?" Scott replies, smiling.


"That is up to Jay," Jared with a plan. "He might want to give you a card,
with a $500 balance, with intentions of you building your own credit
history?"


Taking a lesson right away, Jay says point blank, "Nash, you're getting a
$500 limit!" Decision made, Jay claps hands back and forth, like dusting
off beach sand.


It was nice going along with the charade, Nash breaking the news, "Did you
forget my parents are loaded? Um, like I already have a Visa, with a limit
that will make you catch your breath?"


Scott jumps, figuratively, "Cool! Take me shopping!"


Like they were vying in a contest, to see who could pick up the boyfriend
faster, Jay blurts out, "I've only got a $100,000 limit. Looks like you're
elected, Nash!"


Sensibly, Nash says, cuddling up to Jay's arm, "We can both take you
shopping," he directs at Scott.


Hearing Adam grunt, Scott comes down to earth, "Yeah, but not until Adam is
better?"


Silent, Willem had to excuse himself, wishing everyone a speedy recovery,
"And when you're all better, we'll meet up for drinks, my treat!"


On the way out, Mose caught Willem's ear, asking all about Derek!


%


When told `John' had been apprehended, Joseph rushed over to the police
station. He had Thor with him, because he was out for a walk, closer to the
station than home.


Arriving, he was greeted by all his buddies. Just in time, `John' was being
booked, but not charged, pending identification by those who suffered at
his hands.


"I know this guy!" Joseph exclaims.


Though, Joseph was reluctant to explain, beyond he met him at HOODWINK'd,
in reality downstairs, having tied John to the table and worked his magic,
hardening up John's main artery and enjoying some delightful ministrations.


Having opened his big mouth, Joseph had to answer to Ian Collins,
overhearing the remark, "John? Is that his real name? What else do you have
for us, Joseph?"


When people met at the favorite gay meet up den on the island for drinks,
it was okay to talk about going to HOODWINK'd, chat and dancing. The Spin
Club was a different matter, more secretive and customarily, those who
indulged, not taking what they heard or the scene, past the exit
doors. Other than talking about a hot fuck or a guy who could suck you off
till the cows came home, Joseph kept other activities for his own
enjoyment, in bed at night or in the morning, when he couldn't find a trick
and had to self-task!


Silent for a moment, Ian smiles, saying, "I'm not asking for details,
Joseph?"


"Of course," Joseph wasn't really sure. One thing Joseph wasn't sure of, is
convincing, "John Austyn. He's really not a bad guy."


It jogged Ian's brain, "John Austyn, played volleyball for Team USA at the
Olympics?"


"One in the same," Joseph replies. Cutting out the glory, "John has just
fallen on bad times. I'm sure there's a rational explanation for his
actions."


"Ok, I know you don't want to share your experience on how you got to know
John, as I can pretty well guess, but we'll need something to go on, if
you're going to vouch for him, as I see where this is leading, Joseph?" Ian
renders.


He was reluctant to volunteer information, but Joseph had to tell at least
something which could help, "Off the record, John was looking for me last
night. It's probably my fault because I was so wrapped up in what I was
doing, with instruction of not to be disturbed, we didn't make the
connection."


Looking down at the end of Joseph's leash, Ian says, "Thor, he looks like
he could use a cup of coffee."


Peering up at Joseph, he had a look on his face, Joseph uttering, "Thor?"


"I think you and me need to have a little talk... over coffee?"  Ian was a
damn good rough and tumble cop, rolling with the punches, when punches were
pulled, but on a personal level, could be a real sweetheart, "Now, because
I would have to have such a fine athlete lost in the system?"


Good friends, of course they didn't know everything about each other,
Joseph pointing out he didn't drink coffee, opting out for green tea.


Joseph had to ask, "Were you there when he had to change into his jailbird
clothes?"


Being had, Ian says, "I might've been." Ian looked `criminal', like he was
hiding something.


Someone had to be in the changing room, Ian volunteering, but it wasn't
only John having a very good looking bod to match his already handsome
facial features, which helped to buy him fame, being offered some brief
spots for underwear campaigns. As Joseph poured out John's history, it was
easy to see why the man snapped.


All of John's life, there wasn't any love between father and son, only the
drive to compete and win. For his father, this was present in his
business. John, he was a natural and it pleased his father to see him excel
in sports, from high school on up through college. When the Olympics
opportunity came along, it was more his father pushing him into doing it,
which later John was thankful for, because he found he had what it takes to
help his team win gold medals.


His downhill spire came, months after returning from the Olympics, making
it a strong decision to come out, rather than wait until it accidentally
found its way back to his family and friends. Too, since high school he had
an aching to become the guy he was meant to be. One night, feeling it
right, he approached his father in his study and outed himself.


Joseph recalls the telling, "His father just stood there and John claims it
was the first time his father didn't have any words to fill the void."


Ian could guess, "For how long before he began swinging?"


"Oh, you get the opinion that's how it's been all along?" Joseph questions
his former colleague.


"I'm going out on a limb here, just guessing," Ian uses hand signs to
present his idea, "the reason he knows you and missed you last night at The
Spin Club, is that he has been there before... with you?"


Well, Joseph didn't find out this information sitting down and having a
cozy dinner at Korbeau's, confesses, "He adores cbt!"


Smiling at the hint to what could be more, Ian confesses, "Remember you
were going to show me about that stuff?"


"I thought we were talking about John?"


Coughing, swallowing, taking a sip of his espresso, Ian says, "We
were. What about him?"


"Well, you were right, his father did take a swing at him, after telling
Ian he had so much going for him and that he had to forget about `this gay
shit'."


Being serious, but whimsical, Ian replies, "Like you can flick the switch
and turn it off?"


"Some people are just fuckin' ignoramuses," Joseph truthfully says.


Back to business, Ian asks, "Okay, he gets decked by the old man and then
what?"


"No, on the contrary, he dodged the old man's slap across the face, having
been there before. Instead, Ian... oh my god, Ian, I mean, John," Joseph
stops to chuckle at himself, "you two look so much alike..."


It's exactly how Ian thought, having the terrible duty of standing there
and watching John strip out of his street clothes and put on the blue
overalls, it was as if looking in the mirror, except he was mostly smooth
and John, lots of fur...


"As I recall, John packed up and left." Sensing Ian far off, "Are you with
me, Ian?"


"Yeah," Ian comes alive, "I was just thinking."


"Oh really?"


"I was," Ian tries sounding more convincing, "he takes off and lands here,
on the island, at HOOWINK'd," reviews the facts presented, "misses the
connection with you," gets sarcastic, "because you're too busy filling some
twinks hole and..."


"It wasn't a twink!"


"Whatever, Joseph, you missed the meetup, John gets drunk or was on drugs,
we don't know yet and he picks up Scott and Adam..."


"We don't know that yet," Joseph duels.


Changing his thought process, Ian says, "Or, Scott and Adam pick him up, he
goes home," getting bored, "and the rest of it is in the police report. As
we know it."


"Great. Can I take him home now?" Joseph smiles a toothy grin.


"No you can't take him home. He's under arrest and has yet to be charged,
if with anything, which I wish things could not look so negative for him?"


Leaning forward, placing hands together, like Pastor Mark made them do
before knitting class began, Joseph bargains, "Suppossin' I spoke to Jared,
Jay and the rest and had the charges dropped?"


Much as Ian would like to see it happen, he shows his sympathy towards the
cause, "I imagine he would be expected to pay for the coffee table and door
he busted down?"


Standing, Joseph says, "I think Thor needs to `go'."


Really Joseph had to go. On his mind was to clear this matter up quickly as
possible and in order to do so, he had to see `the man', "Oh, you would you
terribly mind taking Thor out to pooh and I'll be back for him later?"


He took Thor, but holding the leash, Ian says, "Sure, like you stiffed me
last week, Joseph?" he smiles.


"I thought you loved dogs, Ian?"


Smiling, Ian says, "I love men more!"


Leaving Thor with Ian, Joseph knows he would not be seeing the German
shepherd for a couple of days, but that's how Thor's life revolved around
the island, not to mention he made a lot of friends and got `free food!'


The hospital wasn't far from the police station, Joseph happening upon
Jared, walking with Derek, who got a warm, welcome, "Hello-o-o-o there!"


Meeting up with Joseph just last night, Derek says, "I wanted to thank you
for letting me use your spare boy last night. He was a tight fuck."


Jared, he stood their, surprised at Derek, not surprised when it came to
knowing his good buddy.


"Well," Joseph figures it, "so, you owe me!"


Taking it the other way around, than Joseph perceived it, Derek says,
"Sure, I'd love to fuck you!"


Breaking out in hyena laughter, Jared says, "Looks like he's got you over a
barrel, Joseph!"


Turning to his good friend of many years, Joseph utters a harsh, nasty,
"Shut up!"


Placing fingertips over his lips, Jared still wore a smile, saying, "So
sorry your royal worship!"


Returning to his normal self, Joseph takes Jared by the arm, "Let's cut the
Star Trek lines. We've got to talk."


Derek, trailing along, says, "Star Wars."


"What was that?" Joseph liked the opportunity to return his gaze on Derek.


"You said Star Trek. It's Star Wars, when Princess Leia turns to..." now he
has to think, "a wookie, I think it was..."


"No," Jared butts in, "she tells Luke Skywalker to get the fuck off, by
calling him `your worship.'"


"Hmm," Joseph says, "rent the movie some night. We'll show it at church
while we knit."


"You had some pressing business, Joseph?" Jared reminds.


"Well, if you would quit interrupting me?"


Jared had to at least smile, Derek at Joseph's back, twirling a finger
around his brain, like they were in The Twilight Zone, "Yes, as you were
saying, before you interrupted us, Joseph?"


Joseph stood there, a smirk on his face, ready to make what was said wrong,
right, but instead chooses, "You have to drop the charges against John."


99% of the time, when Joseph spoke, Jared listened and admitted to him
being right. This was one of those 1% times, "You want me to what?"


Derek says, "Y'know, I think I'll double back and make sure the guys are
still doing okay in the hospital."


Instead of The Nook, which was farther away, they turn around to face Tam's
Asian Encounter, Jared first saying, "You're buying me lunch," he grabs
hold of Joseph's leather vest, forcing him inside the luncheon spot.


Happy, if that's all it takes, Joseph lightens up, "Does that mean you're
dropping the charges?"


It didn't mean it and Joseph had to go over more than the facts he told
Ian, using a certain tone of voice, to try to be more convincing, ending
with, "And if you do this, I really owe you big time!" he sat back for the
verdict to be rendered.


Rubbing his face with one hand, like washing it at the sink, Jared
prolongs, "I need to talk to Jay about it."


"What for? You're the one in charge?"


Right now, it was the choice of choice words, Jared coming back full
hurricane force, "That's changing. Besides, there's no reason why Jay can't
run his own affairs. It's only the legs and dick that don't work. Nothing
wrong with his brain!"


He's seen what taking power away from Jay has cost both the brothers over
the year, Joseph smiling, saying a soft, "Well. I guess that's what it
takes?"


"And when I go back later, I'll..."


Rushed, Joseph changes his tune, "Can you do it now? Ian says, soon as John
is vindicated, he can walk."


Folding his arms over his middle, Jared makes a big, nasally exhale, "I
guess I could do it for the Olympics!"


"Thanks Jared. What about me?"


"What about you, Joseph?" Jared gets up, scoots the chair under, "I'm going
to be thinking about that colossal favor you owe me!"


So, Jared headed back to the hospital, taking the styrofoam container with
him, without Joseph, thinking Joseph was waiting for Jay's decision on the
matter. He would have gone with Jared, but Joseph had to make a living too
and reported back to Korbeau's.


%


Back at `City Hall', a modern block structure composed of cement, able to
withstand gale force winds, was no match for a fire which broke out on the
upper floor during the last hurricane. Fortunately, all that water more put
the fire out, welcomed by the small island fire dept. Upstairs housed the
mayor's office and with that totally useless, the old lighthouse became
candidate for these purposes.


Fire trucks and equipment remained unscathed, but had to be relocated, with
at first a report of structural damage. Even though the station, next to
the jail, was deemed safe, the relocation site, an auxiliary building of
Pastor Mark's church was found more central, so the town leased the
building.


The only remaining service, Police Department, stay in the location and up
until a few weeks ago, the upstairs was off limits, reopening.


Standing at the front desk, a lull in `business', Ian studied papers
regarding the incident at the Evans home. It was just the way he liked it,
quiet, John Austyn being as silent as a church mouse. Not used to the
noise-free prisoner, Ian checked in on him a few times. Once, John had
woken up, complaining the air conditioning didn't seem to be working in the
cell.


"Well, I'm not letting you out to go take a dip in the ocean, if that's
where you're going with this?" Ian told him, like it was a joke, but kept a
stiff, legal attitude.


It wasn't, John asking, "Maybe you could turn up the a/c?"


"It's at the allowable setting," Ian confronts.


Casually, John began to unzip the one piece suit, "Then maybe I'll have to
peel off some layers!"


Now Ian knew, under a prisoner's jailbird suit, there were only briefs and
socks on his feet. "Suit yourself," he replies, but then did break down and
giggle, "or rather, unsuit yourself!"


Man, did he want to hang around for the unveiling, but it wasn't the time
or the place!


He did go back and check on John later and boy did his mouth water, seeing
the post-Olympian lying on the cot, hands behind the head, sleeping,
flaunting all that...


However, business was about to come his way, which would make him forget
about John temporarily, a well-to-do person entering the front door. He
uttered a, "Good afternoon."


Ian swipes a look at the clock over the front door. A stickler, clock
saying 2 minutes to noontime, "It's still morning, but what can I do for
you?" he watches others, apparently accompanying him, enter.


"My secretary will fill you in," the distinguished gentleman walks over to
a counter and parks his ass.


Bad luck for Ian, everyone who entered was drop-dead gorgeous, but this
`secretary', the cop thought up a strong wish, `Why does this always happen
when I'm on duty?!'


"My card," the formal man handed Ian a business card.


Looking at it, Ian, who started out as formal, protocol for a Police
office, gets a little flighty, comparing the card to the hot man's face,
"Nice to meet you Mr. Karlyle."


"No," the secretary didn't skip a beat, "over there is Mr. Karlyle, my name
is on the bottom, right?"


"Milo Domersanto. Nice name," though Ian was thinking more than the name as
being more than nice!


Milo wanted to step out of character himself, but when acting on behalf of
a man who, when speaking, action better follow, not to mention Milo didn't
mind being a part of the decor of a 7-mil mansion in the Hamptons, "I'm
here on official business."


After saying it, Milo felt dumb... real stupid. Of course this was official
business, but he wanted to melt, so so did his words.


"Of course," Ian sensed something like, the representative should be
venting a collar, allowing the steam to escape.


Seeing right through the whole charade, CK's security man, interrupts the
lull in business, "Uh, Milo, you wanna focus?"


Right after saying it, Hans Hobstaken loses his own focus, Joseph walking
in the door. With raised eyebrows, he can only think, `Oh my god, I've died
and gone to heaven!'


Seeing the expression on Hans' face, Milo goes back to chatting up Ian,
like nothing was said, waiting for the desk cop to read through the letter
presented by him.


"Looks in order to me," Ian says, folding the trifold paper, placing it
back in the envelope.


Fabricating a plan, Milo clicks his pen, saying, "If you could give me your
`John Handcock' and number you can be reached at, in case there's a
problem?"


Not knowing if it were a slip of the tongue, Ian figured so. If wrong,
knowing this was Cayman Karlyle's lawyer, he could be up for a lawsuit,
maybe worse, writes as he's saying, "By the way, it's `Hancock,' not
`Handcock'?"


Smiling, Milo says, "I know!"


Just what Ian thought, which is why he gave his cell phone number, instead
of the extension of affairs, at City Hall. "By the way," Ian leans a little
over the counter, even though he didn't have to be so secretive, Hans and
the others hearing Joseph talk up the best club in town, "I get off duty at
6!"


"Good," attorney replies. Dropping more hint than was needed, "Where can a
man get a good meal around here?"


"Depends if you want a high class meal, there's Korbeau's, or a `weenie in
a blanket?'"


"I'll be around for a few days. Why don't start at Korbeau's and work our
way around to the weenies?"


One blessing Ian often thought about, was the height of the counter he
stood behind. Often he would need to keep a tight grip, belt to the edge of
the counter, in order to go undetected, regarding how he felt about
someone's approach, such as a hot dude like the 29-year old attorney!


As it happened to come about, CK's business manager was elated to find out,
their lodging arrangements were at the same rooming facility Joseph worked
as security, from Hans, whom immediately gravitated to Joseph, after the
vested bear finished up business.


It didn't take much introduction because Joseph and Hans knew where each
other stood.


Since Joseph was decked out in leather vest and pants, it wasn't tough for
Hans to figure out, "Maybe you can fill me in on where I can find some hot
action?"


When CK snaps a finger, things move rather quickly.


Hans jumping to the simple command, stuffs a card into Joseph's palm, "Give
me a call," specifying, "soon!"


Soon as Hans was out the door, Joseph is on his cell!


Regarding CK, when out and about he didn't loiter. He didn't cater to
standing in the police station, venturing out, his security manager, Glenn
Hysen with him. When out and about, it was Glenn's job to almost be in CK's
face, the leash stretching to about 10 feet in either direction.


A hot afternoon, `bikini-boys' were out in full force. Getting multitudes
of return looks, Cayman knew, sometimes, his cerulean corvette seemed more
important than himself. Because money could talk, his corvette was one of a
few civilian vehicles allowed on access roads. If a dude appealed to him,
greatly, added to the evening fare of dining and dancing, the 33-year old
fashion honcho might mention the detailing on the car made of real
silver. In the years he has had the hot car, it has both drawn guys in, but
also withdrawn them from his invitation. Some were impressed, others more
so with the person, than what he was worth. Being young, carefree,
relationship was not in Cayman's vocabulary for the moment.


In his early 20's, Cayman's college roommate, Denny Milcour, became his
first love interest, which led to his first in the line of several
supermodels. Then, CK did all the legwork himself. Now he had an entourage
wherever he went, people who would respond without question. They loved
their lives out in East Hampton, more than another job could pull in.


Yet, employees of the fashion agency entrepreneur knew Cayman to be a fair
employer, even though quite demanding, not to mention the salary and
bonuses quite satisfactory.


Mostly twinks on the grounds out in Hamptons, Glenn's term for any dude
under 25, going for the older crowd, was enjoying the multi-aged eye candy,
nonetheless.


Cayman knew the drill by now, in one ear, out the other, Glenn remarking,
"There goes another supermodel, slipping right through your fingers,
Mr. Karlyle!"


Once in a great while, CK would humor his security manager, play him up
with and over exaggerated eagerness, "Oh really?" Eyes piercing the hot
ticket to stardom walking by.


At first it pissed Glenn off, but then he started doing it too often, just
to get on Cayman's nerves. They finally came to a truce, CK inviting a
model he often heard Glenn ogle over, UK's Rod Styles, a super stud of the
bear community `over to the house'. On the Karlyle campus for 1 day and
Glenn was complaining he couldn't stand the bitch! Immersed in the twink
population, CK said it was safe, if Glenn wanted to take some personal time
off.


That's exactly how Cayman could be, all businesslike and on the other side
of the coin, kind to those who worked for him.


Then suddenly, a dude who had zeroed in on Cayman, stood face to face with
the wall of Glenn's intervention, "Something I can help you with?" his 6'4
swimmers build looked down on the dude. Right off, Glenn's mind sped into
detective mode, thinking this could either be a resident of the island, or
speculation, college frat on summer vacation.


First time he's ever heard this, the meek looking guy says, "I'm not afraid
of you!"


One eyebrow up, the other down, Glenn knew he was letting his guard slip,
"You're not, are you? What makes you think so?"


Faking karate chops, the dude says, "Because if you were to do something,
I'd just break some bones."


"Where'd you learn your karate skills, at ballet school?" Glenn thinks
himself comical, letting down his guard.


Whipping an envelope out of nowhere, the dude says, "I'll forget you said
that, if you give this to Mr. Karlyle."


The dude wasn't totally ugly, especially with what was packed into the
surfer boardshorts, Glenn saying, "What makes you different than the other
5,000 college frats strolling around on the island today, wanting instant
model gratification?" He must've counted at least 100!


"Nine and a half inches, cut, give you an idea?"


`Oh shit,' Glenn thought, `he knows I was checking him out!', changing his
tune, "Maybe I could slip it to him," he takes the envelope with
fingertips, like it was diseased!


Walking away, the dude does an about face, "Oh! By the way?"


"Hm?" Glenn was glad to have one last look at the front view.


Back of the knuckles almost touching Glenn's shirt, midsection, he extends
a hand, "I'm Shea."


Well, at least Shea saved Glenn some time, from opening the clasp on the
manila envelope, looking for something to identify the hot stud, "I'm
Glenn," he jumped the gun, tossing Shea's resume from right hand, to left.


"Well, I gotta go." Shea didn't really, but thought it in his best interest
if he didn't linger too, too long.


Stopped dead in his tracks, he overhears Glenn say something, perhaps meant
for only his own ears, "Too bad," the whisper is overheard.


Turning a cheek, winding his torso around, though feet steady to the
ground, Shea peers at the security man, "Oh, I thought you said something?"


Placing Glenn on the spot, he decides not to let a good opportunity go to
waste, even though he's sworn off twinks, rather guys with less than 25
years experience in the world, "I thought..." he makes it up as he goes
along, "if you weren't doing anything later on?"


`This was going good,' Shea thought. Not only was he benefitting, by
hitting Glenn up for submitting his portfolio to CK, the other way of
making a pass, "I could do that," said like he was doing Glenn a favor!


Picking up on it, Glenn didn't mean to twist anyone's arm, "You don't have
to?"


This time, cool, calm and collective Shea gets flustered, "No, no, no... I
mean, `yes', I'd really like that!"


Puppy love, him the big mutt, Shea the puppy, Glenn replies, "Okay then,"
and since he knew they were staying at Korbeau's, having gone over the
itinerary, a folder passed on to him, from Milo, "meet you at Korbeau's, at
say, eight?"


Suddenly, Shea was oh-so-nervous, "Korbeau's?"


He didn't hear it from anyone, read it in the Korbeau prospectus,
nonetheless, Glenn rebounds, "I hear they've got a nice menu."


Unemployed for the longest time, having landed a sous chef job at `Piggies
In A Blanket', worked there for a week, running low on the cash flow, Shea
asks, "Is this a date?"


"Well," Glenn, normally an on-the-ball guy, stutters, "Uh, um, yeah, I
suppose you can call it that, if we want to get down to logistics?"


Winding his words, like he was trying to catch Glenn in a trap, though not
with those intentions, Shea says, "Ok," with that out of the way, "since
you invited me, does that mean you're paying?"


Doing his nervous `thing', Glenn's tongue depressed the inside of his right
cheek, switching over to the left, a ploy to make him think, the left side
telling him his time was up, "I suppose that's how it could go."


After all, Glenn was pulling 6-digits a year. He might as well free up the
piggy bank!


"Cool. See you around eight, then," and Shea was off.


This time, it was Glenn interrupting their departure from each other,
"Hey!"


"What?" Shea was happy to turn around, face to face with the tall
studmuffin.


Having taken his cell out, Glenn says, "We should exchange numbers, in case
one of us backs out?"


"I wouldn't be. Think you might?" Shea hoped not, at least having the
pleasure of kissing those hot lips!


Usually an in-charge kind of guy, his job dictating such, Glenn is lost for
words, piecing his answer together, "Uh, no... I hadn't, um, thought about
it," but a quick thinker when the pressure got tight, "but sometimes this
job has a way of changing from moment to moment, when it comes to having
Mr. Karlyle as a boss."


So there it happened, each with their cell phone out, Shea's manila
envelope almost in Glenn's sweaty pit, held in place by a bulging bicep,
going a little hidden by his shirt, each in each other's stomach almost,
like texting away, typing in numbers.


"Got it?" Glenn finishes up.


Procrastinating, Shea says, "I got it. You got it?"


Little smile, Glenn says, "Got it," he pockets his phone!


One last word of advice, Shea says, "Make sure Mr. Karlyle," he picked up
something which might get his foot in the door, "gets my portfolio?"


Walking away, Glenn panics. Not realizing he has been neglecting his duty,
watching over his client, he scans the walls of bikinis and boardshorts,
sighing a long, "Wh-h-ew," spotting CK and Milo speaking with some
incredibly hot guys.


Hopping to it, his job, Glenn casually, but quickly, paces over to where
the five have gathered.


Soon as he reaches their destination, Milo informs him, "We're taking these
boys for coffee," he winks!


%


Meanwhile, back at the hospital, Jared walks in on Jay, surrounded by not
only Nash, but a few who had come in and out of his bro's life, upon
hearing what had happened to him, above all, his good bud, Jake, "Jared,"
he jumps up, "it's been like, forever, since I saw you last!"


Friends forever, so it seemed, they embrace, Jake popping a kiss to Jared's
lips.


"Mm-mm," Jared jokes, "I miss that taste!"


"Really?" Jake says with confidence.


"Yeah," Jared says, "kind of a cross between wet balls and sweaty armpit!"


Rather than embarrass, Jake turns it back, "You would know, Jared, wouldn't
you?"


He would, but instead transitions to his brother's welfare, "I ran by your
surf shop and everything seems to be going full blast."


Yeah, Jay could remember those days, when things really went full blast,
but then pulling his mind out of the gutter, "That's cool. Am I making
money?"


Making money was a side order, compared to the whole menu, where Jared was
concerned. A ship didn't go sinking, if the crew pulled together and worked
as a team, but didn't want to dwell on the issue, "Fine. Just fine."


Nash then brings the conversation back to the reason they were where they
were, "Did you hear what's going to happen to the guy in jail?"


`Burn in hell,' is what he should be thinking, but because his good buddy,
Joseph can be very persuasive, Jared renders, "I don't know. I talked to
Joseph. He gave us some things to think about."


A little on the defensive, not which he didn't value his own bro's
judgement, Jay says, "He busted us up pretty good. He should go to prison
or something, right?" he squeezes Nash's hand.


"That's not for us to decide," Jared didn't want to make it seem like, as
Joseph had impressed upon him, to drop the charges. "Like I said, we both
trust Joseph, we just have to think he's doing the best, in our interest,
huh?"


Rocking his head back and forth on his shoulders, Jay accepted it, "Yeah."


"Based on how Joseph confronted me with the issue, he thinks it would be a
good idea if we dropped the charges."


Jared waited a full half-minute, waiting for it to register.


"Wait. Run that by me again?"


Oh what he knew, from how Joseph explained it to him, Jared does the same,
leaving room for speculation, "I know, I was set against it too, when
Joseph first told me, but you know as well as I do, how it feels to be in a
rough place, thinking your life is ready to crash and burn?"


When Jay didn't respond, Nash takes up the reins, saying, "I think you
should give us time to think about it."


No one caught it, the plural!


Accepting, Jared carries on, "So, what did you do at the gym today?"


Like Jared had planned, it took Jay's mind off the incident at the house,
hearing about how the trainers switched it up, trading off clients, but
pouncing on his brother, "Man, what a hunk Oz is. Too bad you two didn't
hit it off!"


Jared knew something Jay didn't know and because of it, sat there with a
grin on face, finally telling all, "How many times have I said, `things
don't happen for no reason?'"


"I thought it was `things don't happen without a reason?'"


"You want to hear why or what?"


"Ok," Jay says, like he's not interested, "tell me."


Not giving too much away, Jared says, "I've met someone else."


Of course Jay had to know, having had Jared put up with him, his condition
for a year, plus running the Evans business empire, thinking his brother
was due for a break, coming up with importance, "What are his stats?"


To some, stats could mean age, height, build, `size', hair color and other
particulars, but brother to brother, Jared says, "A really nice guy and
even though he's younger than me, is able to keep a conversation," spoken
modestly, yet with pride.


"How young?" Jay quizzes him.


Nash, he just sat there, taking it all in...


"Oh, about your age."


"A student?"


Jared's mouth opened, but no words came out, except some incoherent
syllables, "Uh, um... I think?"


As if he were a highly intelligent scholar himself, in reality a B or
C-student, Jay says, "Are you asking me or telling me?"


"Why do you have to be so specific?"


"When do I get to meet him?"


Pressed for detail, same as he would do at one of the stores, speaking with
an employee, Jared deflects, "When you're up and out of the hospital."
Then, deviating further, "Who's your doctor?"


"Brick."


"He's a vetenarian!" Jared replies.


Since there was only one doctor on duty, Nash says, "Dr. Shah," more than
impressed, "he's a nice doctor."


Knowing the lingo, Jared says, "I take it, in more ways than one?"




%


"The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... spread happiness!"
T. Chase McPhee... circa 2005


Copyright 2014 T. Chase McPhee


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