Date: Tue, 24 Nov 2009 19:59:45 -0700
From: Roy <roynm@mac.com>
Subject: Owen, chapter and 33

Owen

Chapter thirty-three

by Roy Reinikainen


	Owen closed the door to the small bedroom, grinning at Lucas who
lay sprawled across the bed on his back.  "What a day," he sighed,
stretching his shoulders as if to loosen knotted muscles before he sank to
the edge of the bed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"I'm beat."  He sat up straight, arching his back, and stretched as he
massaged his face with both hands, inhaling deeply and blowing out a long
puff of air as he stretched his arms out to his sides.

	"Y'okay?" Lucas asked, scooting closer.  It was understandable that
Owen was more quiet than normal; after all, he'd seen his father die only
hours earlier.  Then, he'd had a lengthy conversation with Corey, which
left both men lost in thought.  During dinner with the doctor and Bea, Owen
had done his best to act like his normal self, but it was an act, and he
did not play the part well.

	Owen turned to Lucas with a combination shrug and nod.  "I'm
feeling . . . I don't know . . . good . . . I guess.  I sorta feel
. . . free . . . for the first time in my life.  Still . . . I don't know.
It wasn't *right* for Pops to die like he did, no matter how bad a person
he had become.  It just wasn't right."  He thought a moment, staring
blindly at a point on the far wall of the bedroom.  "Still, I guess, I no
longer have to worry about what he thinks of me, and what he'd do to Mama
and the girls if he came back home.  I've also gotten some questions
answered and a couple wishes fulfilled, so . . ." his grin was sad,
"overall, I guess I should be feelin' pretty good, considering the
circumstances.

	"Still, my feelings are all jumbled up.  I'm feeling sorta
depressed, yet I'm also thinking that I'd like to celebrate.  I'm wishin'
you'n I could do something to take my mind off of," he made an expansive
gesture with an arm and hand, "all this.  If we were back at school, I'd
say let's invite Corey and Bailey to go with us to that little Italian
restaurant so we could get a few cups of coffee and a bunch of cannoli."
Owen's grin grew to a smile.  "I'm sorta curious to see how that macho lady
owner; y'know, the one with biceps bigger'n mine?"  Lucas nodded.  "Well,
I'd like to see if she remembers Bailey.  I'm sure he remembers *her.*"
Owen chuckled at the thought.  "Seein' those guys would keep me from having
to think about everything that went on today."

	He shook his head.  "There's just so much."  He rubbed his hands
over his face and released a long slow breath.  "There's so much to take
in, and I'm not wantin' to face any of it.  So, if we were back at school,
once the restaurant closed, we'd say bye to the guys and come back to the
apartment and take a long, leisurely, hot shower.  Then," he continued, as
he grinned, wiggled his eyebrows, and lowered his voice, "then, we'd fuck
like bunnies.

	"We're not back at school though, and I feel like I want to hide,
y'see?  I don't know why, or from what, but I just want to take my mind off
. . . everything, and give myself some time."  He sighed.  "Yeah, that's
what I'm needin' . . . time."  He huffed a silent laugh.  "Here I am
thinkin' only about myself when I should be wonderin' if Jonah's okay.
And, how Abigail and Opie are gonna take Pops' death, not to mention Mama."

	"A lot happened to you today, Owen," Lucas murmured, urging him to
lay back with a gentle pressure of his hand. "It's not wrong or selfish to
be thinking about how you're going to assimilate it all.  As you say, it's
going to take some time.  Tell me," Lucas asked, turning onto his stomach
and scooting closer, "how'd your visit with Corey go?  You both seemed a
little . . . subdued afterward.  Were you telling him about today?"

	Owen rolled onto his stomach and lay half across Lucas, throwing a
possessive leg over Lucas as he propped himself up on an elbow and ran a
fingertip over the stubble of Lucas' chin.  "We talked, but not a lot about
me, other than, like usual . . . I did a lot of the talking.  Both Corey
and I needed to say some things 'bout growing up in abusive families.
Corey more'n me, I'm thinkin'.  Me tellin' him some stuff about me gives
him permission to unload some of the stuff he needs to talk about.  He's
kept everything bottled up too long."

	"Oh geez," Lucas groaned.  "Not him too.  Does Bailey know?"  Owen
shook his head.  "No, and I'm not sure it's the time to tell him, since
he's immersed in diggin' himself out of his own hole, and I don't think he
can handle a whole lot more."

	Lucas drew Owen to him.  "What happened to him is serious, isn't
it?  I mean, it seems to me you're worried about Corey, probably more than
about your sisters, Jonah, or your own feelings.  Am I right?" Lucas asked,
running his fingers through Owen's short hair as Owen rested his head on
Lucas's chest.  He felt an answering nod.

	"Yeah, I guess.  His anger runs pretty deep.  He doesn't know what
to do, and he's hidin' what happened to him from Bailey until he figures
things out.  In fact, I think I'm the only person he's ever told about it,
and I'm not really sure that I've gotten the whole story.  What's worse is,
I don't think Corey *ever* intends to tell Bailey . . . even when Bailey
eventually can handle it.  In his own way, he's afraid of Bailey
. . . intimidated by him.  He feels inferior to Bailey.  He hides it well,
just as he hides most things, but in a few unguarded moments, a person can
read between the lines."  Owen huffed a laugh.  "We're quite a pair, Corey
and me.  We're both confused.  It wasn't until he told me what happened to
him and talked about his feelings, back at school, that I really examined
what I was feelin'.  Until then, I'd just gone on day-to-day, tryin' to
make it through each one without crying or getting angry, or something.  I
was angry for so long that I started believin' that feeling the way I did
was normal.  After listening to Corey, and doin' quite a bit of thinking, I
realized most of what I was feelin' wasn't anger but pain, wishin' things
were different between Pops'n me."  He snorted a soft laugh.  "Corey's
hurts are different than mine, and he has a longer way to go, I'm thinking,
to where he can begin to work through things.  I dealt with my hurts by
bein' all quiet.  He deals with his anger, pain, and insecurities by being
a comedian.  It's an act he's learned to be pretty good at.  All the
laughing and jokes also mean he's the center of attention.  No one can
ignore him like his parents did.  The same goes for his love of lifting
weights.  The effort gives him a body which people look at and sets him
apart from most other guys."

	Owen snuggled closer, gently kissing Lucas' brow.  "You know,
people like us, I mean, Corey'n me, we hide things so well, most people
don't even know somethin's wrong.  We're afraid to let others in, fearing
they won't understand, or will ridicule us, thinkin' that we need to *grow
up* and *move on.*" Owen snorted.  "That's easy to say, but not so easy to
do.  It took us a long time to . . . get this way.  It's gonna take us a
long time to climb out of the hole we're in."  Owen's speech faded into
silence.  When he finally spoke, it was almost as if he were talking to
himself.  "If it hadn't been for you, Lucas . . ."

	"Pucker-up, Cowboy," Lucas smiled, hoping to divert Owen's
self-examination.  "I haven't had a chance to kiss you for hours and hours
. . . and hours."

	"And hours," Owen responded, a welcome grin in his voice.  He
rolled on top of Lucas, responding to his tight embrace and the feeling of
their penises pressing against one another's.

	"Ohhh, Cowboy," Lucas exhaled, as his lips touched Owen's and their
breath and tongues caressed.  "We're together now.  We've overcome
snowstorms . . . fires . . . you name it.  We'll . . ."

	He hesitated at the three soft knocks on the bedroom door.  Owen
looked up, not quite able to stifle a groan of frustration.  He rolled to
Lucas' side, propped himself up on an elbow, and ran his fingers through
his hair in an attempt to coax it back into place.  "I'm not lettin' you go
anyplace, mister," he murmured, keeping one of his legs intertwined with
Lucas'.  "We're not nearly done."

	"We've hardly started," Lucas grumbled, reaching up to rub his
fingers over Owen's spit-wet mouth, just as there was another knock.

	"Yes?" Owen called.  He half-expected the doctor to be knocking on
the door, but, instead, it was Bailey who stuck his head into the room.
His eyes widened when he saw the two men sprawled on the bed.

	"Uh, sorry guys," he murmured, and began to close the door.

	"Hey," Corey groused, from where he stood in the hall, "what's
going on?  They're not asleep are they?"  He coaxed Bailey aside and looked
into the bedroom.  "Bailey and I were wondering if you'd like to . . . uh
. . ."  He cleared his throat, as his smile wavered.  "But, um
. . . actually, I think we'll just say g'night."

	"C'mon in, guys," Owen said, with a grin.  "We weren't actually in
the middle of anything."

	"Yet," Lucas murmured, grinning in Corey's direction, hoping to
take any sting out of the word.  He really did enjoy Corey and Bailey's
company, and, after all, they *had* come all the way from school to visit.

	"Where's Daniel?  Is he out in the hallway, too?" Owen asked.

	Corey laughed and shook his head, as he entered the room with
Bailey a step behind.  "Nope.  He's already gone to bed.  Sexy man, huh?"
When Owen nodded and smiled, but refused to supply any details about the
doctor, Corey continued.  "I tell you, forty years old and acting like an
old man.  'Course, the broken arm and . . . everything else . . . might
have something to do with it."

	He lowered his brows.  "Y'sure it's okay for us to be here?  I
mean, we've obviously interrupted."

	"No problem." Owen motioned for Bailey to close the bedroom door.
"Scoot round," he urged Lucas.  "Make room for the guys.  They need
someplace to relax."

	"You don't have to ask twice," Bailey laughed, as he climbed onto
the bed next to Owen.  "I've never been in bed with more than one guy
before."  He squirmed slightly, rubbing his groin into the bed.  "It has
possibilities."

	"Bail," Corey grumbled, "The man never actually asked for you to
join them."  Bailey waved away the comment with a dismissive gesture.

	"You're going to get your clothes wrinkled," Lucas murmured.
Bailey's grinning response spoke more of his fundamental change in attitude
than anything Lucas had yet seen.  Bailey was at ease.  He was approaching
. . . normal.

	"It's all in a good cause.  Besides, any wrinkles can be dealt
with.  I'm not going to let a couple wrinkles keep me from having fun."

	"Fun?" Corey asked.

	Bailey nodded.  "That is precisely what I'm having.  You should
join us, Corey."  He patted the small space next to him.  "There's room."

	"Y'know," Corey warned, looking at the guys sprawled on the bed,
with his arms crossed.  "When Bailey lays on a bed, he automatically gets
horny.  Hell, I'm surprised he hasn't stripped-off already, and embarrassed
us all.  I mean, we do have our own bedroom, Bail.  If you want to lie in
bed, we can do it there."

	"This one's more cozy."  Bailey turned onto his back and gave Corey
an ingenuous look.  "To allay your fears about embarrassing you, I believe
I can manage to remain dressed.  After all, when I usually get into bed,
you're next to me; that's why I have an erection."

	"So, I guess I shouldn't climb on board then, huh?"

	"Your choice.  What are you afraid of?"

	"I'm not afraid of anything.  Since you've told us you're not
feeling frisky, I'm just thinking how, when I left home, I thought I got
away from hearing about people who were so poor they had t'sleep sideways
on the bed."

	Bailey groaned, flicking a glance in Lucas' direction, and
complained in a good-natured tone.  "I feel it coming; another hillbilly
story."

	Corey pushed at Bailey's foot, where it hung off the edge of the
bed, with his tennis shoe.  "I'm not a hillbilly, *Mister* Wilkins," he
said, standing straight and feigning indignation.  "Everyone I *know*,
except you guys, is, but not me.  There's nothing wrong with being one;
it's just that I'm not . . . one.  I'm just like you guys."

	"Ummmmm," Bailey murmured in a disbelieving voice, winking when
Owen turned to question the sound.

	"You mentioned you'd like to hear a story 'bout back home in the
woods."  Corey took a deep breath, ignoring Bailey's groan.  "Y'know, in
the town next to mine," he began, "they once had a huge fire."

	Bailey groaned louder.  "I told you."

	"Lots of damage 'n all," Corey continued, warming to his story.
There was a smile in his voice and his eyes sparkled, as Bailey rolled his
head from side to side, making low sounds of protest.  "The fire was so bad
the mayor's mansion even burned down."  Corey sadly shook his head,
recalling the sight and nudged Bailey.

	"It was awful . . . the fire pretty much took out the whole trailer
park."

	"What?" Owen asked, giving Corey a disbelieving look.  Corey
laughed, both at Owen's reaction and at Lucas, who protested the story by
tossing a pillow in his direction.  He expertly stepped aside, thinking
Bailey was a much better pillow-tosser.

	"Wait, guys," he said, bending to pick the up the pillow, and
tossing it back to Lucas, motioning for the men on the bed to be quiet.
Lucas flopped backward and playfully added his groans to Bailey's.  Owen,
on the other hand, swatted Lucas in an attempt to make him be quiet, and
motioned for Corey to continue.  "The mayor, sorry to say, perished in the
blaze, trying to save a prized stuffed moose head that wouldn't get through
the trailer's front door, on account of the antlers n'all.  If he'd only
thought to turn sideways, . . ."  Another sad shake of his head, as well as
another, even more woeful groan from the man, who now had a forearm thrown
over his face.  Lucas snorted amusement, both at the story and at Bailey's
playful reaction to it, while Owen watched Corey in fascinated attention.
"Ugly animals, moose," he added as an afterthought.  Those *lips*!"

	Corey sighed, playing to his audience.  "The mayor's poor wife was
sooo upset, until she learned she had been left the old man's entire
estate.  However, she can't touch it until she turns fourteen."  Corey
shook his head, pleased, more than he could say, by Owen's smile.
"Y'know," Corey said, as if the thought had only just occurred to him.  "I
think by the time she's fourteen, the entire estate, that old '48 Ford on
blocks in the front yard, will have rusted away.  It's certainly not
*going* anyplace.  After all, it hasn't had an engine or tires since before
I was born."  He sighed, staring off into the distance.  "Ahhhh, what can
be said for hillbilly romance?"

	"See?" Bailey asked, as he propped himself up on an elbow,
motioning to Corey to give him a moment to talk, with an insistent motion
of a hand.  "Didn't I tell you?  Next, he'll tell us about the hoopla
caused when the drinking age was raised to thirty-two."

	"Huh?"  Owen's brow furrowed.

	"They want to keep alcohol out of the high school," Bailey
finished, looking toward Corey and making a face, which asked him to, top
that.

	"Yep," Corey concluded, accepting the dare.  "Growing up, I was
surrounded by hillbillys.  Hell, Freddy-Joe threw a big ol' beer bash,
after he married his sister Sally-Jane, 'cause he had won the town's three
million dollar lottery.  Turns out he gets three dollars a year for the
next million years."

	"Enough!" Lucas and Bailey shouted, simultaneously.

	"Hey, I like hearing about where Corey comes from," Owen
interrupted.  "Besides, I thought the guys were here to visit.  Corey's
tellin' us about his home . . . in the woods," he snickered, "waaaay out in
the back of beyond."  He held out a placating hand.  "I'm sorry, Corey, but
three dollars a year for the next million years!"  He shook his head,
accepting the nudge from the toe of Corey's tennis shoe.  "And, a *moose*
head . . . with *lips*?"  Owen's boyish laughter threatened to infect
everyone in the room.

	"I thought we were going to kiss," Bailey said, trying to stop
laughing, and wiping his eyes as he glanced from Owen and Lucas, to Corey.
"Didn't I hear something about kissing?  I'm ready."

	"Kiss?" Owen asked.

	"I'm sure I heard someone mention kissing," Bailey insisted.

	"Don't say I didn't warn ya," Corey reminded everyone.

	"Get over here, Cor, and let's get serious."

	"Yee-haw," Corey laughed, throwing both arms in the air and
gyrating his hips.  "Does that mean you want me to get nekkid?"

	"Uuuuuuu," Owen purred.  "Listen to him.  Nekkid.  Must be how they
say it in the back woods."

	"You mean, the back of beyond," Lucas teased, interrupting Owen.

	Bailey snorted.  "A person doesn't have to be *naked* to kiss."  He
turned to Owen and Lucas, and spoke in a stage whisper.  "He wants to be
. . . nekkid . . . so he can show off his body."

	"Uuuuuu."

	"Hey, Corey, if you don't want to kiss Bailey, it's okay."  Lucas
propped himself up on an elbow, threatening to tickle Owen to keep him from
any more "uuuuuu," comments.  "I mean, if you're uncomfortable, just say
so.  None of us will be upset."

	"I will be," Bailey muttered, "upset about the kissing, that is.
He's a very good kisser."  He snorted and shook his head.  "As if *I* have
that much experience."

	"Even so," Lucas continued, "if you don't want to . . ."

	"Now, you've done it!" Corey said, his fists resting on his hips.
"You've called into question my manhood."

	Owen turned from Corey to Lucas, wearing a grin, as he said,
"Uuuuu," another time, daring Lucas to stop him.  "You threatened his
manhood.  Sounds serious."

	"You don't have to show us your manhood," Lucas teased, ignoring
Owen, "unless you really want to."  Bailey collapsed onto his back with
another groan.

	"I just want a simple taste of his tongue, and now you've given him
an opportunity to show off.  You've just asked for more than you bargained
for," he mumbled.

	"*That* big?" Owen asked, wide-eyed, studying Corey, who had thrust
his hips forward and was lewdly cupping his groin.  Bailey made a
dismissive gesture, ignoring Corey's smile and nod, affirming his cock
size.

	"In your dreams, Mister Hatfield," Bailey taunted, motioning to
Corey.  "Although, I must say, it *is* admirable."

	"Even if you don't want me to be *nekkid*, I can at *least*
strip-down to my Jockeys," Corey grinned, flashing his brilliant smile as
he tugged his t-shirt over his chest, revealing a mid-summer tan, twin
slabs of chest muscle, small dark nipples, and a rippling stomach.

	"Show off," Bailey muttered, as Corey toed off his shoes, and slid
his jeans over his muscular . . . tanned . . . legs.

	"Y'know," Owen murmured, when Corey was standing in front of them,
adjusting the contents of the bright yellow pouch.  "No matter how hard I
try, I can't get that good of a tan."

	"You're not supposed to be looking at my *tan*, Owen!" Corey
complained in exasperation, shaking his head, then turning to Bailey.
"Clothes, Bail.  Out of 'em."  He made a hurry-up gesture.

	"But, I'll get hard," Bailey groaned.  "I'm capable of kissing
fully clothed."

	"I'm already hard," Lucas murmured, "but that happens whenever
Owen's got a hand on my crotch."  Owen snatched his hand away and grinned,
blinking his innocence in Bailey's direction.  "Besides," Lucas continued,
as he restored Owen's hand to its recent location, "I'm enjoying Corey's
show."

	"Aw, c'mon, Bail.  You've got nothing to be ashamed of . . . down
there.  Besides, I *know* you're frisky."  A faint flush of pink tinted
Bailey's light skin as he bowed his head.

	Corey reached for Owen's free hand and tugged him to his feet.
"Serve as an example," he urged.  "Strip down to your underwear.  It's time
to show off!  I'll bet you love people seeing your body."

	Owen pressed his lips thoughtfully together, his glance moving from
the man at his side, to Bailey, and finally, to Lucas.  "Then what?  I'm
thinkin' that I'm not an orgy kinda guy, if that's what you're thinkin'
of."  He bit his lower lip.  "Though, if you guys are okay with limiting
things to kissing and touching, I'm okay."

	"Touching's good with me!"  Corey reached across the short distance
separating him from Owen and cocked an eyebrow, requesting permission.
Owen bit his lip then nodded once, his eyes lingering on Corey's before
following the hand until it touched his chest.  "Y'okay?" Corey's murmur
was answered by a nod and a hint of a smile.

	"Doin' good," Owen murmured, his eyes dreamily half-closed, as
Corey lovingly ran the open palm of a hand over his flat belly and chest,
pausing to tweak a nipple to firmness.

	Owen extended his free hand to Lucas, and grinned at Bailey.
"Don't just lay there, Bailey.  I thought you wanted to suck on Corey's
tongue.  That's what I'm intendin' to do with Lucas."  He motioned to Lucas
to hurry up.

	Lucas paused a moment to analyze Owen's behavior.  'How much of
what he's doing is an act?' Lucas wondered, 'in an attempt to ignore his
feelings.  'Still,' Lucas thought, 'his smile and actions are captivating.'

	Owen's entire personality seemed embodied in his expansive
movements.  It was unusual for him not to be moving, pointing at things,
running his fingers through his hair, or throwing his head back in
free-flowing laughter.  His mobile mouth seemed always to quiver on the
verge of a smile, his startlingly pale grey eyes constantly sparkling from
a hidden source of humor.

	'How is it possible for him to behave as he does, with the
background he comes from?' Corey wondered.  'Even now, with his eyes
closed, a blush makes his face look alive.'

	Owen glanced at Corey through lowered lashes and grinned.  "Feels
great," he murmured in a husky voice, totally different from earlier in the
day.  A second later he made a halting motion, stepped back as he tugged
off his shoes and socks, then stepped out of his slacks and kicked them
aside.

	He glanced at Corey, wearing nothing more than a hint of a smile,
and a jockstrap.  His blush deepened as he heard Bailey's hiss of indrawn
breath.

	"Sorry, guys.  If I'd known we were going to be doing this, I'd
have worn something other than a jock."

	"A *swim* jock," Bailey murmured.

	"A very *brief* swim jock," Lucas added, feeling a tingle in his
groin at the sight of Owen's dark blond pubes sticking out above the
waistband, and to either side of the pouch.  "Damn, but I love pubic hair,"
he added, as Owen raised both arms to his sides, as if for inspection.

	'And, pit hair,' Lucas added to himself.

	"Corey'n I are ready, guys," Owen smiled, looking at the two men on
the bed, "but nothing's gonna happen till you've stripped down to *your*
undies."  He turned a penetrating look on Lucas, as if he were looking over
the rim of a pair of glasses.  "You *are* wearing undies . . . today
. . . aren't you?"  The comment seemed to make everyone relax, and soon all
four men were standing before one another in their underwear.

	Corey's bright yellow boxer briefs stretched over his round
buttocks, and cupped a cock which had thickened substantially from only
moments earlier.  Lucas was wearing a pair of very brief . . . briefs,
which appeared to have been made from some country's flag, the left side
red, the right side yellow, with a black waistband and trim.  Surprisingly,
Bailey, the man who had once claimed huffily that he 'lived for color,' was
wearing a pair of plain white briefs.

	'I never would have imagined Bailey would have such a nice body,'
Owen thought to himself.  Like Owen, Bailey was a pale-skinned blond.  His
closely clipped chest hair tapered to a narrow line as it crossed his flat
belly, then disappeared beneath the waistband of his briefs.  The pouch of
the briefs strained to contain a rapidly stiffening penis, which Bailey
covertly attempted to adjust to a more comfortable position.  He shyly
grinned when Owen caught his eye and smiled.  Tonight, he seemed even more
unsure of himself than normal, looking to Corey and Lucas for clues on what
to do.

	The always smiling Lucas, stood close to Bailey, with an arm around
his waist.  "Here," he said, taking one of Bailey's unresisting hands and
placing it on Owen's chest.  "This is what you've been wanting to do, isn't
it?" Bailey glanced uneasily from Lucas to Owen and nodded, both his voice
and hand shaking as he sighed.

	"Oh yes!"  He turned a hesitant smile on Owen.  "You and Corey are
so . . . so . . . perfect."  He moved close to Corey and the two men
kissed, as Bailey, almost reverently, ran one hand over Owen's chest, and
the other over Corey's back.

	"Me," Lucas laughed, attempting to lighten the sexually charged
mood.  "I'm a confirmed ass man."  Owen pushed back against Lucas' hand,
then grinned as Corey's hand joined Lucas', tending to the other cheek,
while he and Bailey continued to kiss.

	Owen had never watched anyone kiss before.  Corey and Bailey's kiss
was as erotic as possible, though not as aggressive or as sloppy as the
ones he and Lucas shared.  The sight of the two men's tongues seeking
entrance to one another's mouths, as they parted, from time to time, coaxed
his penis to a full erection.  He felt the head push aside the jock's
waistband.

	"C'mon, Cowboy," Lucas murmured in a voice rough with passion.
"Let's swap some spit.  What about it?"  The other two men in the room
apparently forgotten.  He lay back on the bed, groped himself, then patted
his stomach.  "Climb aboard, handsome," he urged.

	"Damn," Corey muttered, nodding to Bailey to watch, as Owen climbed
on top of Lucas, his smooth ass cheeks parting to show a hint of his tight
pucker, and the jock pouch struggling to hold his cock and balls.

	"I could kiss *that* for a week," Bailey grinned, then leaned
closer and whispered in Corey's ear.  "And I intend to do just that with
yours, the moment we get back to our room."

	"Uuuuu, Bail," Corey murmured, as he lay back on the bed next to
Lucas and pulled Bailey on top of him.  "I'm looking forward to that, but
first, let's do some serious tongue wrastlin'."


----------


	"Damn!"  Daniel struggled into a sitting position, dangling his
legs over the edge of the high bed.  'With all the day's excitement, and
having Owen and the guys as house guests, I forgot to take my pain meds.
Of course, the bottle is in my office, the same room Corey and Bailey are
using.'  He slid off the bed, wondering if he needed to try to slip into a
pair of shorts, or whether Corey and Bailey would mind having a naked man
drop in on them, for a brief moment, while he retrieved his medicine.  He
made a face, discarding the idea of struggling with shorts for so brief a
time.  'Hell, I'd only have to take 'em off to go back to bed,' he
rationalized.

	'We're all guys.  They'll be able to handle seeing me.'  He paused
in the doorway to his bedroom, suddenly struck with a thought.  'What if
they're having sex, and I can't handle seeing *them*?  Do I politely knock
on the door, stick my head into the room, excuse my intrusion, and scurry
over to my desk to retrieve the bottle?'  He shook his head.  'No, if
there's any indication that *that's* what they're doing, I'll forego the
pills for tonight.'

	The light from beneath Owen and Lucas' door indicated that they
were still awake, but . . .  Daniel paused.  Corey and Bailey weren't in
their room.  The door was standing open.  Their stuff was set out neatly on
the bed, but they were nowhere.  'Unless . . .'  He took a cautious step
toward Owen's bedroom door and heard a soft laugh, then Corey, in a
slightly louder voice, complaining about Owen wearing a jockstrap, followed
by Bailey's complaint that he wanted to kiss.

	'Oh my,' Daniel thought to himself, as he leaned against the
hallway wall.  'I wonder what all this means.  I mean I *know* what they
must be doing, but what does it all *mean* . . . the four of them
. . . together?'  His eyes widened.  'I hope they've adequately closed the
room's draperies.  I can't imagine how much hell there would be to pay if
Maxine looked inside . . . and that would be just like her to do such a
thing.'

	With that thought, he tip-toed back to Bailey and Corey's room to
assure himself that at least the drapes in *that* room were completely
closed.  'Oh,' he recalled, 'the pills.'  He snagged the bottle out of his
desk drawer, then made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water, and
downed the prescribed dosage.

	'What business is it of mine if the four of them have sex?'  Daniel
grinned into the darkness.  'I'm jealous, that's all.  They're having a
great time, and here I am, horny as I can get, with no way, other than
wanking my own dick, to get off.'  He shook his head as he walked back to
his bedroom, pausing briefly to see if the light beneath the bedroom door
remained on.  "Well, guys," he said, aloud.  "I hope you have a good time."
He shook his head, and gently closed his bedroom door, muttering an
exasperated, "kids," to himself.


----------


	"Was it awful, Mama?" Abigail asked, joining her mother on the
porch, tucking her legs beneath her on the cushioned chair, and reaching
out to take her mother's hand.  "I'm not sure exactly what I should be
feelin'."  She hesitated, aware her mother was studying her in the dim
light.  "I guess I'm pleased Pops is no longer in pain.  I know I'm pleased
that *you* no longer have to suffer because of his behavior.  I'm really
happy 'bout that.  Of course, I'm happy us kids won't have to suffer any
longer.  Those are good things.

	"I'm sorry . . . " she hesitated, shaking her head in frustration.
"This is where it gets rough.  I'm not exactly sure what I'm *sorry* for.
The fact that I didn't get to say goodbye?  That none of us kids grew up
with a *normal* father?  That he's dead?"  She shook her head.  "I just
don't know.

	"For a few moments, after you told Opie 'n me 'bout him dying, I
was angry.  You know why?" she asked, her young voice taking on a steel
edge, as she turned to her mother, who shook her head.  "Because he didn't
suffer *enough*," Abigail said, with some heat.  "The rest of us suffered
daily 'cause of him, and I was thinkin' that he got off way too easy."
Abigail heaved a deep breath.  "Then, I realized that he *had* suffered,
prob'ly for years.  Who knows, maybe he suffered more'n all of us."

	"Mama?" Opie's little girl voice called from within the house.

	"On the porch, sweetheart," Bea called.

	Opie pushed open the screen door, clinging to one leg of her
stuffed toy panda, and squinted into the darkness.  "I'm going to bed," she
announced, "and I need you to kiss me good night."  She matter of factly
walked to her mother's side and turned her cheek toward her mother, waiting
for a kiss.

	"Thanks," she said, seeming anything but sleepy as Bea watched her
fondly, tucking a stray strand of the little girl's blonde hair behind an
ear.  "Are you talkin' 'bout Pops?" Opie asked, looking first at her
mother, then her sister.

	"Are you doing okay, sweetheart?" Bea asked.  "Do you need to talk
about what you're feeling?"  Opie thought a moment, then shook her head and
clutched her stuffed toy animal to her chest.

	"I don't like him bein' dead, but I'm glad he's not coming back.  I
like laughin' too much.  I couldn't laugh before, or do my pictures where
he could see me.  I'm happy.  It's a good thing . . . laughing."  She
nodded her head, emphasizing her words, then yawned.

	"G'night, old woman," she teased, playfully punching her older
sister on the shoulder as she passed, then giggled, and scampered inside,
leaving the reluctant screen door half closed behind her.

	Abigail watched her sister disappear into the house, then turned to
her mother.  "*That* is how I feel!"  Bea gave her daughter a sad smile.

	"Me too, sweetheart.  Me too."


----------


	"Yo, mama!" Corey blurted, as he rolled off of Bailey and on to his
back.  He theatrically waved one hand in front of his face, as if to feel
the breeze, while wiping across his spit-wet mouth with his other.  "Look
at me!"  He held out a muscular arm which glistened with perspiration, then
wiped a hand over his chest and belly, pausing to scratch the prominent
mound of his underwear.  "I'm sweatin' worse than a whore in church!"  He
sniffed an armpit and smiled.  "I'm loving it!  This place is beginning to
smell like a locker room."  He ran a forefinger over the head of his cock
which protruded above the waistband of his underwear, smeared the pre-cum
around, then licked his finger.

	"Yumm," he smacked his lips. "I love tasting my own stuff."  Corey
rolled to a sitting position and crossed his legs.  Bailey lay on his back
nearby, his legs slightly spread, watching Corey for a clue as to what to
do next.  Owen laid on his stomach at Lucas' side, his head resting on the
crook of Lucas' shoulder, the two men sprawled on the remainder of the bed,
next to Bailey.  Owen's pale butt cheeks were framed by his jock, while
Lucas' brightly colored underwear did little to hide his cock, in a
strained curve over his balls.

	"Guys," Corey tentatively began, causing everyone to look up.  "I'm
feeling all charged up, and I'm wondering if it might not be best for
Bailey and me to go back to our room.  I don't want to fuck'n stuff, but I
really do need to cum.  My dick feels like it's gonna break, it's so hard."
He reached beneath the waistband and groped himself, lewdly running his
hand over the length of his erection before he gathered another string of
pre-cum and brought his finger to his lips to lick it off.

	Owen untangled himself and sat up, reaching for Corey's hand.  He
grinned, then sucked on the same finger, which Corey had, only moments
earlier, had in his own mouth.  No one missed the widening of Corey's eyes,
or the slight relaxation of his muscles.  "Don't go, guys," Owen said,
releasing Corey's hand.  "I know I said I didn't want to have an orgy, and
I still don't, but I really would like the two of you to stay."  He turned
toward Bailey and rubbed a hand over his chest, the closely-clipped hair
reminding him of Lucas'.  "You guys are my closest friends, and all of us
. . . being here . . . like this, makes me feel like we're sharin'
something important."  He paused.  "Don't go, please."

	"Lucas?" Bailey asked, in a low voice, hoping not to offend either
man.  Like Corey, he wanted . . . badly . . . to come.  He also was
excited, more than he would have thought, by Owen's near-nakedness.

	"I agree," Lucas answered.  "I'm not asking the both of you to
spend the night, since this bed isn't nearly large enough for that, but
it's the perfect size to be close and get over being afraid of one another.
Have you noticed how, other than Owen, a couple minutes ago, that we've
hardly touched one another.  If we're afraid of touching, I can't help but
think we'll be afraid of getting close in other everyday ways.  I want to
be able to get close to my friends, and have them feel comfortable being
close to me.

	"I think Owen's right about the other thing, too.  Being here with
you, like this, makes me feel . . . I don't know . . . closer, I guess
. . . to each of you.  Whenever I've been with a guy in the past, it's
always just been the two of us.  The sex would happen, we'd pat one another
on the back, and go our own ways.  Of course, that changed when I met Owen,
at least the going our own ways part of it.  I feel good about having you
guys here, but whether you decide to leave or stay, I do have to lose the
underwear."  With that, he bent his knees, put his feet flat on the bed,
arched his back, and slipped off his briefs, sighing as he idly toyed with
his genitals.

	"That's so much better," he grinned, playing with his pubes.
"Now," his grin broadened, "let's have a good time guys, and not be afraid
of doing something which will upset someone else.  We know what the ground
rules are.  Are you game?"

	"Yep," Corey laughed.  He scooted to the edge of the bed and stood.
"Here, guys," he said, pointing to his underwear.  "Get these things off
me."  He lowered his voice and thrust his hips forward.  "I feel like
getting close."

	"You got it," Bailey volunteered, stripping off his own briefs and
tossing them aside.

	"Damn," Corey sighed, as Owen placed an outspread hand over the
firm nub of each nipple and began working his way down Corey's belly,
where, with one finger of each hand beneath Corey's waistband, he paused.
"You want 'em off?" he asked, in a low, teasing, voice.  Corey nodded,
sharply inhaling as Lucas knelt at his side and squeezed his buttocks with
one hand as he cupped the bulge of Corey's groin with the other, squeezing
gently.

	"Ohhh, yes," Corey managed, pausing to kiss Bailey.  "This is so
amazing.  C'mon, Owen," he squirmed slightly, "let my dick out.  This is
not the time to tease a guy.  No matter how cool it is for someone down
there to be fingerin' the underside of my cock, it'd feel better to be set
free."

	"That's my cue," Lucas laughed, low in his throat.  He and Owen
slowly lowered Corey's bright yellow boxer briefs, exposing the tan line
and the flawlessly-white skin of Corey's butt cheeks.  "Holy fuck," Lucas
exhaled, "you are freaking gorgeous."  Relieved of his underwear, Corey
spread his feet slightly, inviting Lucas and Owen to explore.

	"I'm yours, guys," he urged.  "Go wherever you want.  Don't be
afraid."

	"Fantastic butt," Lucas murmured, barely loud enough to be heard,
as he caressed the two smooth, firm mounds of muscle.  In response, Corey
reached back and spread his cheeks, inviting Lucas' further exploration.

	The cleft between Corey's ass cheeks was hot, as Lucas tentatively
ran a finger over Corey's pucker.  'It's all well and good,' he thought,
'to talk about freely touching, but I still feel as if I'm going someplace
I have no right to be.'  Even so, he paused, quickly licked a finger, and
rubbed it around the pucker's perimeter, pleased with the tremor he felt
course through Corey's body.

	Next were Corey's testicles, smoothly nestled up to the base of his
straight erection.  As he held them, Lucas could feel them shift beneath
his fingers, and the scrotum relax.  'Damn,' he thought to himself, 'this
is wild.'

	While Lucas was exploring the area between Corey's legs, Bailey
knelt in front of Owen.  "May I?" he asked, resting a hand on Owen's
shoulder, shyly nodding toward Owen's straining jock.  In response, Owen
leaned forward and tenderly kissed Bailey's cheek.

	"Oh!" Bailey straightened in surprised reaction, as he reached up
and touched the spot where he'd been kissed.  He watched Owen with wide
eyes and slightly parted lips.  "You kissed me!"

	"Y'okay?" Owen murmured, his lips turning up slightly into a smile.

	He was answered by a single nod and bowed head.  "You have no idea
how okay I am, Owen," Bailey answered, blinking through a watery blur.
"That kiss was like a validation of everything I've been working so hard to
do.  It's like receiving an outstanding grade from an instructor."  The
corners of his lips trembled as he tried to smile.  "Thank you . . . so
much."

	"It was only a kiss," Owen murmured, trying to comfort Bailey, who
appeared about to be overcome with emotion.

	"To you, maybe," Bailey shook his head.  "It meant much more to
me."

	"Hey, guys," Corey groused, good-naturedly, "don't forget about me.
Lucas can't possibly cover all the bases by himself, y'know."

	Owen quickly stood and stripped out of his jock, the last of the
four men to be naked, and embraced his friend.  Lucas looked on as Bailey,
almost reverently, caressed Owen's thick erection and smooth balls.

	"There's no chance of us forgetting about you, my hillbilly
friend," he said with a smile, causing Corey to snort softly.  Owen lowered
his voice and murmured in Corey's ear.  "With us as friends, you'll never
feel ignored again.  I promise."

	Corey froze, and clutched at Owen.  "Promise?" he asked, a hint of
desperation in his voice.  "For real?"

	Owen nodded, stifling a groan as Bailey's hand snaked between his
legs.

	"Truly," Owen murmured.  "Whatever happens, we will not let you be
alone, will we?" Owen asked Lucas, who was hugging Corey from the side
opposite of Owen.  Lucas grinned agreement, touched by the reaction Owen's
words had brought about.

	"We're here for you, Corey, just as you've been here for Owen.
Remember it.  You do not have to face *anything* alone.  Now," Lucas added,
blinking back his own water-filled eyes.  "There's an awesome naked man
standing in front of me, who has invited me to feel him up."  He grinned a
crooked grin and wiggled his eyebrows once.  "And, I intend to do just
that.  There's a lot of unexplored territory I have to cover."  He leaned
close and quickly kissed Corey's cheek.

	"You're a good man, Corey Hatfield.  Don't you ever let anyone make
you think otherwise."

	"Oh, guys," Corey choked, leaning first to kiss Owen quickly on the
lips, then doing the same thing to Lucas.  "No one has *ever* said that to
me before."

	"Hey," Bailey groused, holding on to Owen's suddenly-limp penis.
"What's going on up there?  This isn't the time for a confab.  You're
talking so much you've all lost your erections!"  He leaned back from Owen
and studied Corey, who was wiping his eyes.  "Cor?  Is everything okay?"
Bailey glanced from Owen to Lucas, prepared to stand.

	"Perfect, Bail," Corey laughed, with a catch in his throat.  "I was
just thinking, though, that the best sermons are lived, not preached."
Corey chuckled.  "Suffice it to say, that I am surrounded by good men, and
am feeling very, very lucky."

	"Very hard too," Owen murmured, as he stroked the length of Corey's
returning erection.

	"Carry on like that much longer, mister," Corey murmured, slowly
thrusting his hips back and forth, "and it'll be spitting at you."

	Owen grinned.  "Good.  It feels so much different, holding someone
else's dick, from holding my own, or Lucas'.  Hey, Bailey," Owen continued,
struck by an idea.  "Stand up here, and take care of my cock for me, will
ya?  I'm feelin' like I'd like to get rid of a bunch of cum I've been
buildin' up."  He grinned.  "Y'think you can coax it outta me?"

	Bailey sprang to his feet.  "As someone we all know and love would
say, "Yee haw!" Bailey imitated Corey, but instead of gyrating his hips in
a circle, he thrust them back and forth, poking his erection in Lucas'
direction.

	"Watch where you're aiming that thing, mister," Lucas warned.
"While you're taking care of Owen, I'm gonna teach you what a good hand-job
feels like."  He wrapped his fingers around Bailey's cock and began to
slowly tease him toward an orgasm.  He'd once sworn that hell would freeze
over before he would ever touch Bailey in a sexual way again.  While
growing up, they'd had many sexual encounters, each of them a disaster.
When Bailey had begun to treat him as . . . property . . . Lucas had had
enough and had told Bailey so, and had not thought of Bailey in a sexual
way since.

	'Well,' Lucas thought, 'I've changed, as has he.  We're not the
same two guys who played childish games.  Bailey has finally realized he
cannot own another person's affections.  Now, we're friends.'

	"Thanks, Lucas," Bailey murmured.  "I know how much it took for you
to touch me like that."

	"Shhh."  He teased the tip of Bailey's cock, spreading the pre-cum
over the ultra-sensitive cock head.

	"I've got an idea," Lucas said, as Corey expertly began working on
him.  "When everyone is ready to cum, shoot your load into my hand."

	"Less talk, Lucas," Owen urged.  "I'm needing to concentrate on
what I'm doing and feelin'.  It is so cool to be jackin' a guy off with one
hand while another guy is doin' the same t'me."

	"Better get that hand ready," Corey murmured.  "Owen knows what
he's doing.  I haven't shot in a couple days and I'm thinkin' that I could
fill your hand, all by myself."  He closed his eyes tightly, took a deep
breath, bent his knees slightly, as Owen aimed the head of his cock at
Lucas' palm, just as the piss slit spread wide and four thick strands of
sperm splashed into the center.

	"Now, me," Owen whimpered.  "Bailey," he urged.  "Do it for me
. . . slowly," he added.  Bailey licked his lips once, as if in
concentration, then returned his hand to Owen's penis and slowly began to
stroke its length.

	'I dreamt of Owen asking me to touch him like this,' Bailey thought
to himself, as he felt the silky smooth thickness of Owen's cock pulse
beneath his fingers.  'I don't know how many times I masturbated thinking
about doing exactly what I am now doing.'  He slowed his stroke and watched
the head appear, then disappear beneath his grip, mesmerized by the way the
slit gaped open with each downward stroke.  'It's perfect,' he thought
. . . 'thick, just like Corey's.'  A tremor coursed through Owen's body,
causing Bailey to inwardly curse.

	'Damn,' he swore, with some heat.  'Over so soon?'  Owen's cock
thickened in his hand.  Owen gasped one deep breath of air, twitched, and
shot, draining himself onto Lucas' hand.

	"I can't take it," Bailey groaned, using some of Owen's sperm which
had drooled onto his fingers, as lube to stroke himself.  "I've gotta cum
. . . now."  The fact that he was using some of Owen's juice as a lube was
better than any dream he'd ever conjured.  He stroked himself a couple
times then grasped the base of his cock and rested the head in the sperm
Lucas had already collected.  "Oh, fuckin' crap," Bailey hissed on an
indrawn breath, jerking with each contraction.  "That . . . has . . . got
to be . . . the . . . best . . . orgasm ever," he gasped.

	"Here," Lucas reached out his free hand and collected some sperm
Bailey milked onto his free hand.  When Lucas turned his attention to his
own penis, Bailey stepped behind him and wiped the head of his cock over
Lucas' butt, followed by what was left on his hand.  He knew this was
something Lucas enjoyed, and it pleased him that he was once more able to
do this for his friend.  The jiz was slippery under his fingers, and Lucas'
cheeks smooth.  When Lucas pushed backward against his hand, Bailey ran a
finger down the cleft in Lucas' butt, then between his legs.  The moment he
touched the hole, Lucas trembled and gasped.

	"C'mon, handsome," Owen urged, from where he now knelt, fondling
Lucas' scrotum.  "Give us your load."  Lucas' body was covered in a fine
sheen of sweat, as he continued to fist himself, his eyes closed in
concentration, trying to prevent his other hand from losing its contents.

	"Hey," Owen murmured, touching Corey to get his attention.  "He
loves pits."  Lucas whimpered, and Corey smiled his understanding.

	"Here, guy," he murmured, standing close to Lucas and holding his
arm in the air.  "All yours."  This time the groan of pleasure was louder
and Lucas' knees began to tremble.  He buried his nose in Corey's armpit
and inhaled deeply . . . once . . . twice.

	"Lick," Corey ordered.  "Lick my pit clean!"

	Lucas trembled with excitement, extending his tongue to lick a
broad swath across the mat of sweaty hair.  The smell and taste was too
much.  Lucas groaned so loudly Owen was afraid they'd disturb the doctor.
A moment later, he shot in his own hand, adding his juice to that of the
other three men.  The first shot missed the intended target and splashed
against Owen's chest.  The second, third, and fourth though, increased the
pool of sperm almost to overflowing.

	"Geez," Owen murmured, spreading the splash around on his chest,
"that was awesome!"

	"Sweet," Corey echoed.  Instead of saying anything, Bailey rubbed
his now-dry palm over Lucas' back, aware that his and Lucas' relationship
had healed.

	Lucas blinked twice and smiled, slowly coming down from his orgasm.
"Damn, but that was good," he grinned, the large pearlescent pool in his
hand holding his attention.

	"This is what we're going to do," he instructed, as he stirred
through the liquid with a forefinger.  "Each of us is going to slurp up
some of this juice.  I wanted to taste you all.  This is the best way."

	"Aw, fuck," Bailey moaned, as he began to toy with his thickening
cock.  "I've just cum, but the thought of swallowing you guys' stuff makes
me want to shoot again."

	"Same here," Corey began, then paused when Lucas extended his hand
and placed it in front of Corey's face.

	"Do it, Cor," Bailey urged, in a husky voice, barely more than a
whisper.  "Taste our stuff."  Corey pressed his lips together, as if in
indecision, inhaled slowly, then steadied Lucas' hand and lapped across the
edge of the pool where it threatened to flow from between Lucas' fingers.
He straightened, and coaxed a strand of sperm, which dangled from his lower
lip, into his mouth.

	Everyone watched as Corey, eyes closed, savored the taste of his
and his friends' jiz.  "Fuuuck," he murmured, opening his eyes and smiling.
"I've never ever tasted anything like that.  I could tell that it came from
different people."  He shook his head in wonder.  "Freakin' awesome."

	"Me, next," Bailey begged.  Lucas held out his hand to Bailey, who
licked across the opposite side of his hand.  When he straightened, he
seemed almost in a trance.  "Oh, my," he murmured, licking his lips in
hopes of finding some of the fluid he'd missed.  "There are no words . . ."

	"Cowboy?" Lucas offered.  "Your turn."

	Owen grinned slightly as he caught Bailey's eye, then took Lucas'
hand in both of his and slowly raised it to his mouth.  "Corey," he
murmured, turning toward his friend, "Bailey," he grinned, in that
direction, "Lucas and I have become part of you, now," he lapped slowly
across Lucas' palm, slurping up half of the remaining puddle and
swallowing.  "Now, you both are a part of me."  Lucas licked off the
remaining sperm and swallowed.  "And me."

	Bailey's voice caught as he tried to speak.  "I . . . I
. . . always wished I had a brother.  Now, I feel as if I have three."

	"We do, Bail," Corey murmured, stepping to Bailey's side and
holding him close with a hand around his waist.  "We all do."


~ to be continued ~


	Thank you for taking the time to read my work.  I *always* welcome
your email and enjoy hearing your thoughts.  If you would like me to send
you a pic of the character(s), please ask.

Roy Reinikainen
roynm@mac.com