Date: Fri, 16 Mar 2007 10:56:52 -0600
From: Roy <roynm@mac.com>
Subject: Phalen - Finding Happiness - chapter 6

This story is entirely fictional, and any resemblances to actual persons
are completely coincidental.  Actual locations are mentioned, and are used
for 'background' only.


`Phalen -- Finding Happiness'
Chapter six

by Roy Reinikainen


Curt slowly drove across the Tempe Lake Bridge.  The low sun cast
flickering highlights off the lake onto the tall buildings surrounding the
north shore of the lake, his new home.  It was a beautiful early-autumn
evening with the only sound, the occasional airplane approaching or leaving
Sky Harbor airport.

`I wonder what it is about being over at Phalen and Jeff's place.  It has
always been Phalen who made me feel better.  Today, it was Jeff and Greg.'
He shook his head in wonder as he turned down the curving palm-lined,
flower-bordered boulevard to his building.  `I never would have expected
Jeff to introduce me as his friend, especially since he and Brad are so
close.'

`I loved how Greg took over.'  He smiled to himself as he swiped his access
card over the card reader and entered the building's parking garage.  `What
a wonderful man!  When he was watching me I felt like I was his best
friend.'  He ran his fingers through his hair and grabbed his briefcase and
suit coat from the back seat, then headed for the building's lobby.  He
felt better than when he had called Phalen earlier in the afternoon, but
was nowhere near feeling good.  Greg had fed him and helped set his mind at
ease over his disastrous sexual encounter with Daniel.  Now all he had to
do was get a good night's sleep.

The security guard looked up from behind his desk and smiled.  "Good
afternoon, Mr. Sullivan.  Are you home early, or are you just getting home
from yesterday?"  Greg gave him a noncommittal grin as the guard handed him
his mail.  "I hope you don't mind my saying so, but I think those people
where you work are pushing you way too hard.  You look dead on your feet."

Curt gave the security man a wan smile, setting his briefcase down on the
counter and glancing through the mail.  "Thanks for your concern Hank, but
they don't work me any harder than I allow them to.  Besides, the way I
look right now has nothing to do with work."  Hank studied him closely.
"I've just been feeling bad about something and have been driving around
trying to figure things out."

Hank leaned on the counter of his security station.  "Are you feeling
better, then?"

Curt nodded and smiled.  "Yes I am.  I met someone who listened to me.
Having someone really listen means a lot."  Hank nodded in understanding
and ignored Curt's attempt to hide a yawn.  "I intend to go upstairs and
sit out on the balcony, soak up some sun, and get some rest."  He stuffed
his mail into his briefcase and then headed for the elevator lobby giving
Hank a wave over his shoulder.

"You make sure you also get something to eat.  A young man like you can't
go too long without a good meal."

"Thanks Hank, that's already been taken care of."  He looked around the
lobby as he waited for the elevator, realizing how much better he felt just
thinking of Greg and the sound of his warm voice.  Hank slowly sat down,
glancing once more in Curt's direction before he turned to greet another
resident.

`I wonder where Greg will end up living.'  The doors parted and he entered
the empty elevator cab.  "I love the way he grabs you with those deep blue
eyes, and then won't let go.'  Curt smiled to himself.  `I had to keep
drinking coffee just so I would be able to look away.'  He ran his card key
through the slot and pushed the door to his condominium open, feeling more
tired with every step.

He nudged the door closed with his hip, listening for the lock to click,
and then turned toward the large expanse of glass overlooking Tempe Lake
and the city beyond.  He yawned again and shook his head.  `If I don't get
to bed soon, I'm going to fall over.'  As he crossed the living room he
paused a moment to smell the large bouquet of flowers from his parents,
congratulating him on the purchase of his new home.

He tried to formulate a schedule when he might be able to invite them over
to see the place, but his mind was too muddled.  `Later.  I'll do it
tomorrow.'  He stepped into his office and dropped his briefcase on his
desk, hanging his suit coat over the back of the chair.

The bedroom was only a few steps away.  He was well on his way to stripping
out of his clothes by the time he got to the room.  He yawned once more and
dropped everything in a heap, but almost immediately bent over and picked
everything up and tossed them into the clothes hamper.  `Brad would be
pleased.'

He slid the large glass doors aside and stepped out onto the balcony,
enjoying the feel of the sun against his naked body.  He was high enough in
the building that he was sure no one would notice.  `Damn, what a wonderful
voice he has.  It's almost a purr,' he continued thinking about Greg.  `He
could hypnotize a person with that voice, combined with his eyes.'

Curt smiled to himself and stepped back into the bedroom and plopped down
face-first onto the large bed.  `Damn, I hate living alone.'  He rolled
onto his side and grabbed a pillow, snuggling into a comfortable position
and then glanced at the framed photograph of Brad sitting on the night
table.

He ran a forefinger tenderly over the image.  "I love you, Mr. Kelly," he
murmured before he fell asleep, ignoring the late afternoon sun filling his
bedroom, as well as the sound of the people at the pool, far below.


----------


Phalen sat on a barstool and watched Jeff watch his brother move about the
kitchen, cleaning up after Curt's departure.  Jeff was in one of his
silent, contemplative moods.  Phalen had once complained that it was
difficult to get Jeff to talk.  He would contentedly sit and hold Phalen's
hand in silence.

"Is something wrong," he remembered asking.  Jeff had given him a slight
frown, so much like his older brother's.

"No, why?"

"You're so quiet.  I'm not accustomed to being with someone and not
talking."  Jeff had raised his hand to his lips and gently kissed it.

"We come from different cultures, you and I.  Finnish people are known for
their silence.  We think silence is part of a conversation."  Phalen
remembered thinking Jeff was teasing him.  "There's an old saying, lover.
Most Finns accept it without question."  Jeff once again tenderly kissed
Phalen's hand.  "Your speech should be better than silence.  If it isn't,
be silent."  He glanced at Phalen and grinned slightly.

"I'm silent right now because there is nothing I could possibly say that
would make you any more special to me, or me any happier than I am, right
at this moment.  I'm enjoying being alone with the man I love."

Phalen had grown to, if not understand, accept Jeff's periods of silence.
He was not accustomed however, to having two silent people in the house.
He couldn't tell if they were being silent because they were contented, or
if there was a simmering anger hidden beneath the calm exterior.

"So, you're really going out on a date with Curt?"  Greg looked over his
shoulder where he was loading the dishwasher and smiled at his brother.

"Yeah, it was Phalen's idea."  Jeff gave Phalen a look that settled
someplace between a frown and a glower.  Phalen smiled, not the least bit
intimidated.  "The guy looks like he doesn't have a friend in the world,"
Greg finished with the dishwasher and pushed the door closed before
pressing the activation button.  The machine began its low humming sound as
Greg walked back to the kitchen island, facing his brother and Phalen.

"I get the feeling you would rather Phalen hadn't suggested, and I hadn't
agreed to a date with Curt.  May I ask why?  He seems like a nice person."
Greg looked at his brother for the space of a few heartbeats.

"Well?"  Phalen looked from one man to the other, and stepped into the
void.

"Greg, Curt fooled around with other guys when he and Brad were living
together.  That's why they split up."

"I know.  He told me.  I don't think he would believe I'm breaking a
confidence by telling you that."  He leaned closer to Jeff and tried to
catch his attention.

"Jeff, tell me why you don't want me to see Curt.  The *real* reason.  Is
it because of what he did when he and Brad were living together, or
something else?"

"I really don't know."  Jeff seemed inordinately agitated by his brother's
question.  "It's just a feeling I have about him."  Phalen and Greg gave
him an uncomprehending look, silently asking for an explanation of his
feelings.

"I like Curt . . . as a person.  I'm just not sure he's the person *you*
should be seeing."  Phalen's glance flicked from Jeff to his brother.

"Why?"

Jeff took a deep breath.  "Greg, Curt is about the most sexually
experienced person I can think of.  I'm sure there are more of `em out
there, but *I* don't know of them.  I . . . I guess, I'm just afraid that,
given your background . . . he might hurt you and not even realize he's
doing it."  Jeff bowed his head, looking miserable.  "I don't want that to
happen, that's all.  I don't want you to be hurt.  It's not Curt."

"You're sure?"

Jeff nodded and then abruptly shook his head.  "No, I just thought of
something else.  "Brad was afraid that, with all of Curt's fooling around,
that he may not have been using a condom.  He was afraid for Curt, *and*
for himself."

Greg smiled.  "Thank you for thinking of me, but Curt and I are going to
dinner.  I don't expect he'll invite me back to his place to be intimate."
Jeff gave him an indecipherable look.  "He probably won't even want to hold
my hand."

"Do you think you'd want him to?"  Phalen leaned on the countertop,
suddenly looking interested.

Greg thought for a moment.  "I'm caught half way between wanting to scream
and hide in a dark corner, afraid of what *might* happen, and at the same
time, I would love for him to . . . hold my hand.  I've got to tell you
both that other than you guys, and your Dad, Phalen, Curt is the sexiest
man I've seen in a long time."

"Even in his rumpled clothes, unshaven, with dark circles under his eyes,
and messy hair," Phalen teased.

"Even then.  I'm thinking he'll be even sexier whenever he's had some rest
and is cleaned up a bit."

"You have no idea," Jeff murmured.  "A person who's impotent would have no
trouble getting it up when Curt's at his best."  He tried not to squirm.
"It's *that* Curt I'm afraid of.  He *knows* the effect he has on people,
Greg.  The first time *I* saw him I had trouble thinking for a moment, and
that's saying something, considering who I'm living with."  It took a
moment for Phalen to assimilate what Jeff was saying, but it was obvious
from his bright smile, the moment he understood.  "I watched him that day,
move about the room, gathering admirers who followed him about as if he had
bewitched them . . . or something.  Phalen is the only other person I've
seen people behave that way around, and it's different with him."

Phalen seemed captivated.  "People don't follow me around . . . do they?"
Both Jeff and Greg grinned at Phalen's expression.

"Jeff, be honest with yourself.  Are you a little bit nervous about how me
seeing Curt might affect your relationship with Brad?"  Phalen abruptly sat
back, letting out a whoosh of breath.

"Geez, I hadn't thought of *that!*"


----------


Greg sat on a lounge chair looking out over the gently rippling water of
the swimming pool.  Each ripple caught the image of the full moon, sending
the light off in all directions.  Jeff and Phalen had gone to bed long ago,
giving him time to think.  He lay back with his hands behind his head and
looked at the sky and the silhouettes of the palm leaves overhead, thinking
about Curt.

`Am I drawn to him because he seems vulnerable, and I think he won't be
able to hurt me?'  He squirmed slightly on the lounge, feeling the texture
of the upholstery against his bare back.  `He certainly *did* look
vulnerable . . . but so am I.'  He grinned, recalling Jeff's unease at
learning of his date.

`That was nice of him to be worried about me.'

He ran the open palm of one hand slowly over the closely trimmed hair on
his chest, pausing a moment to tease one of his nipples until it became
firm, imagining what it would be like to be lying naked in Curt's arms.  As
he imagined the warmth of Curt's body next to his, his erection began
straining at the confines of his shorts.  He glanced over the back of the
lounge chair to make sure he was alone, and then quickly stripped off his
shorts and briefs, sighing in pleasure at the touch of the pleasantly warm
night air against his body.

The warmth was almost like a lover's embrace, the gentle breeze moving
through the palm leaves, a lover's sigh.

He slowly licked his lips, imagining what it would be like to feel Curt's
lips against his . . . or feel his tongue seeking entrance into his mouth.
He could almost feel Curt's warm breath against his mouth, or hear his soft
chuckle as he pulled away, completely aware of the effect he was having on
the man below him.

He slowly teased his erection, imagining it was Curt who knew exactly how
he liked to be touched.  He was sure Curt would know that he always
imagined sex with another man to be something that was unhurried, something
that would fill the senses almost to the point of overload.

Curt would tease him in the same way he was teasing himself now, bringing
him almost to the brink of an orgasm and then backing off, only to slowly
stimulate him, leaving him never sure exactly when he was going to be
allowed to cum.  He forced himself to remove his hand from his own penis,
leaving it pulsing, almost ready for release.

Greg groaned in self-imposed frustration, tightly closing his eyes, keeping
his hand away from his erection by strength of will.  He wanted to feel the
warmth of another man's mouth on his cock, stimulating it with his tongue,
begging for him to fill his mouth and shoot down his throat.

He had often tasted his own sperm by licking his own fingers clean, and
wondered what it would be like to taste another man's.  `What would Curt
taste like . . . his tongue, his penis . . . his sperm?'  Greg tentatively
ran the tips of his fingers down the length of his erection, gasping at the
initial touch.  Once down the length he moved over his scrotum, teasing the
smoothly shaved skin.  He paused, wanting nothing more than to masturbate
to orgasm.

He lightly traced a line up the length of his cock, pausing near the end to
torture himself with a feather-like touch.  `Curt's cock will swell just
before he's ready to cum.'  Greg opened his mouth, the feel of the swelling
penis almost real in his mind.  `Then, without any further warning, his
cock will pulse . . . covering my tongue.'

Without conscious thought, he began masturbating himself.  The thought of
Curt's sperm coating his tongue, filling his mouth to overflowing was too
much.  He couldn't hold off any longer.  He tightened his grip on his penis
and tugged gently on his scrotum with the other hand, spreading his legs
wide and resting his feet on the brick deck on either side of the lounge
chair.

It would only take a couple more strokes until he was there.  He could feel
the impending orgasm grow, beginning with a feeling that was not much more
than a tingle centered on his prostate.  With each stroke of his hand up
and down the length of his erection, the tingle grew into a feeling that
could not be denied.  He arched his back, gasping for breath at the
sensations he was giving himself.

He could see Curt lean forward, poised to engulf his erection with his
mouth.  Curt moved closer.  He touched Greg's erection with his tongue, a
tentative touch, frustrating with its brevity.  Greg thrust his hips
forward.

Curt's mouth engulfed him.  The warmth was wonderful . . . overwhelming his
senses.  The tingle centered on his prostate had grown.  The feeling was no
longer a tingle.  It was a demand for release that grew with each stroke of
his hand.  He could feel Curt's movements slow.  He knew Greg too was
close.  One more stroke and a pause.  `I can't hold back any longer.'
Another stroke.  The tingle had spread from his groin to his belly and
chest.  Curt was now using only his tongue.  He hesitated, grasping himself
tighter as he involuntarily arched his back and gasped.

His orgasm swept over him.  He made a low groaning sound and arched his
back as the first jet of sperm hit him in the chin.  He thrust his hips
forward, confident Curt would be able to swallow all of him, and was
vaguely surprised to feel the second jet land with a splash on his stomach.
The last of his sperm, slid over his hand as the intense pleasure receded
to be replaced by a sense of contentment and well being.

He licked the back of his hand.  `Will Curt taste like this?'  Next, he ran
his fingers over his chest, gathering up what he could and then licked his
fingers clean.  `I've spent all my life tasting my own.  I'm ready to taste
another man's.'

He closed his eyes and then licked across the palm of his hand one last
time.  `My life has to be made up of more than fantasies.'  He thought a
moment.  `It *has* to.'


----------


Curt slowed as he approached Jeff's driveway.  The shiny convertible slowed
. . .  and coasted past.  `This is getting ridiculous.'  He accelerated,
and drove around the block for the third time.  `I can go into a room
filled with angry clients with less fear.'

He grinned to himself, thinking about his fast promotion at the marketing
firm where he worked.  `Angry clients, indeed.'  He almost chuckled.  `If I
can manage to get through a meeting like *that,* I can certainly be alone
with Greg.'

Curt had followed his boss, one of the company executives, into a
conference room where a group of displeased clients awaited.  This meeting
was to be a learning experience, he had been told.  He was the most junior
person in the company, with a "promising" future.  As they approached the
conference room his boss, Mr. Suarez, instructed him in an undertone to
keep his mouth shut and learn something that he might be able to use one
day.

The meeting had not gone well, and after a few moments it became clear that
Mr. Suarez was not going to be able to convince the people facing him
across the table to choose his firm to represent them.  Curt tried not to
cringe as Mr. Suarez stammered his way through a presentation . . . the
same presentation Curt had worked so hard on.

`He's destroying any chance we have of winning the contract,' he thought,
schooling his expression to hide his disappointment.

When Mr. Suarez dropped his laser pointer and stooped to pick it up, Curt
knew any hopes of winning the contract were lost.  He bowed his head
slightly and sighed.

"You're obviously having a difficult day," one of the guests charitably
offered an opinion of Suarez's troubles.  "Why don't you let Mr. Sullivan
finish the presentation?  I'd like to hear his take on how the new
television campaign should be handled."  All eyes turned toward him.

"I agree.'  The president of the company, the man he needed to sway, gave
him an encouraging smile, and turned back to Mr. Suarez.  "Let the young
man have his say."

"He can hardly do worse than you," someone nearby muttered among the
general shifting in seats that took place as Curt stood under the withering
gaze of his supervisor.  He wasn't nervous, he told himself.  He couldn't
*afford* to be nervous.  He had rehearsed this very proposal many times,
always dreaming he might have a chance to present his work.  He had learned
how to present his projects from Brad when he watched from the audience at
the architecture school.

He spared only the briefest of glances at his supervisor before turning to
the visitors and introducing himself.  The room had quieted.  He realized
he had captured their attention as he addressed each of their concerns in
turn.  `Thank you, Brad,' flashed through his mind.

A half hour later, the Suarez firm had a new client, with the caveat that
Curt be the person in charge of the account.  Mr. Suarez had
enthusiastically agreed, calling Curt into his office later in the
afternoon and offering him a substantial raise in salary and an office of
his own.  There was no need for Mr. Suarez to tell Curt that he had saved
the account, the salary and office were admission enough.

`But, this is different,' he inwardly groaned as he approached Jeff's house
for the fourth time.  `I'm a failure at relationships.'  He turned into
Jeff's driveway and stopped the engine.  `Now, if I were trying to sell him
something, I'd probably be okay.'

He paused a moment.  `I *am* trying to sell something . . . *me.*' The
thought made him feel slightly better.  He checked himself out in the rear
view mirror of the car.  `Yep, no dark circles under the eyes like the last
time he'd seen Greg.  The hair looked great.  Teeth, perfect.'  There was
no need for him to check himself out.  He knew he looked good.  He'd become
accustomed to turning people's heads whenever he entered a room.  Today he
was wearing a pair of crisply creased dark brown slacks and blindingly
white turtleneck that clung to his body.  He stepped out of the car and
slipped into a camel-colored corduroy sport coat.  He took a deep breath,
cleared his throat, stood straight, and rang the doorbell.

"I'll get it," he heard Phalen shout.  A moment later the heavy wooden door
opened and he smiled at Phalen's open mouthed stare.

"Do I look okay?"

Phalen's smile brightened.  "I'll say!"  He stepped past Phalen, who shut
the door and led him across the courtyard.  Phalen paused with one hand on
the door to the house.  "One word of advice though?"  Curt nodded.  "You're
gonna have to loosen up.  You look like you're all starched or something.
You don't have anything to be afraid of.  This isn't your first date.  No
one's gonna bite."  He chuckled, his hand still on the door knob.  "Well,
I'm not, and I don't think Jeff will.  I can't vouch for Greg, but I doubt
it. That doesn't seem to be his style." Curt nodded and took another deep
breath, trying to smile when Phalen clapped him on the back and opened the
front door.

"That stuff about biting was supposed to be a joke," he murmured as Curt
stepped into the house.

"Ha ha," was the response.

"He's here," Phalen shouted, causing the two men in the patio to look up.

Jeff and his brother stood and walked into the house.  Curt tried to smile,
but he was afraid Phalen was right.  He *was* stiff, and he was sure his
smile was as well.

"Hi Curt," Jeff surprised him with a brief hug.  He'd always thought of
Jeff as being Brad's friend, a quiet person who depended on Phalen to carry
a conversation.  Jeff released him.  "It's good to see you."  Jeff stepped
back and looked to his brother.

"Um, ah," Greg stammered.  "Hi Curt.  I see you've gotten some sleep."
Phalen stifled a choking sound in the background.  "You, uh, look nice."

It seemed as if Phalen could hold himself back no longer.  "What!  He looks
friggin' awesome!"

Greg cleared his throat.  "I'm not so good at the English language yet," he
said, intentionally playing up his accent.  "I thank my interpreter for
saying what I intended . . . whether that's what I intended or not."  He
turned back to Curt after giving Phalen a quelling glance.

"Hi Curt.  You look frigging awesome."

"It's friggin'," Phalen muttered from the background.  He stepped between
the two men, resting an arm on a shoulder of each.

"Guys," he said, looking first to Greg and then to Curt.  "You're going out
on a *date.* Smile."  He looked at Curt.  "Say something nice about Greg."

"You look pretty *friggin'* awesome, Greg.  I would give you a hug, but
there's some guy who insists on standing between us."  He gave Phalen a
mock scowl, causing him to step back with his hands held up as if in
surrender.

"Okay, hug already."  Curt stepped closer to Greg and gave him a brief hug.
Greg seemed to stiffen in apprehension and only managed to pat Curt on the
back, as if he were comforting him.  In the background, Phalen glanced at
Jeff and rolled his eyes, but remained quiet after a warning frown.

Phalen held the door open for them and shooed them through with a wave and
well wishes before closing the door firmly and giving Jeff an exasperated
look.

"I swear!  Your brother needs some lessons."  He stepped into an embrace.

Jeff glanced at the two men as they closed the courtyard door.  "Well, if
it's lessons Greg needs, Curt's the man for the job.  He should know
everything there is to know."  Phalen stepped back and gave Jeff a worried
look.

"Are you still troubled by them seeing one another?"  Jeff shrugged and
headed toward the back yard.

"Normally, I'd say Greg is a big boy and knows how to take care of himself.
But that's not the case.  He *is* a big boy, but he has no idea whatsoever
how to handle himself on a date."  Jeff chuckled.  "He's very much like I
was a year ago.  But, at least *I* was with someone who knew about as much
as I did."  Jeff took Phalen in his arms.

"Phalen.  I'm just hoping Curt doesn't do something that will cause Greg to
retreat deeper into his shell.  I don't think either of us really
understands how difficult it has been for him to put himself into a
position where he might be hurt.  I'm worried about what sort of crisis we
might be called on to handle when this date is over."

He buried his nose in Phalen's hair.  "Damn, my family is a mess, isn't
it?"  Phalen shook his head against Jeff's shoulder.

"Nope," he murmured, tightening his embrace.  "Your parents are just fine.
You're not bad yourself."  He paused a moment and then added.  "It's Greg
who needs help.



~ 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 a pic
of the character(s), please ask.

In addition to the first `Phalen' story, I have three other stories you may
want to read.  `Leith,` and `Chris' are located in the Nifty College
Section.  The third story is called `Wesley', and is located in the Adult
Relationships section.  I hope you enjoy them all.

Best wishes,

Roy Reinikainen
roynm@mac.com
suomalainen_abq@mac.com