Date: Thu, 10 Nov 2005 17:35:33 -0700
From: Roy <roynm@mac.com>
Subject: Phalen, chapter 11 - college section

This story contains portrayals of homosexual actions and lifestyles.  There
may be references to, or explicit descriptions of, sex between consenting
adults.

If homosexuality, sexually explicit language, or swearing offends you, or
if reading material that contains these topics violates any law or personal
or religious beliefs, or if you under 18 years of age, please leave now,
without proceeding further.

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


Roy
roynm@mac.com

Phalen, chapter 11


Jeff followed Larry as he hobbled into the house, alarmed not only by the
man's limp but by his seedy appearance. Larry was wearing a pair of old
grey sweat shorts, a black t-shirt, and running shoes with laces dragging
the ground. He was unshaven, his hair was uncombed, and his shadowed
red-rimmed eyes created a look of exhaustion. Under normal circumstances,
Larry was almost as picky about his appearance as his son, never appearing
in anything that wasn't virtually wrinkle-free - even when working in the
yard. Jeff could never have imagined him looking as bad as he did today.

He watched with concern from the kitchen as Larry sat on one of the dining
room chairs with a wince, then stretched one leg out in front of him,
slipped off his shoes, and sighed. He grinned his thanks when Jeff handed
him a beer but remained silent, lost in thought, absently rotating the
bottle on the glass table top.

"What happened to your foot?" Jeff asked, joining Larry at the table,
setting a glass of cold water down with a clink. "Is everything okay?"

Larry glanced at the offending ankle and made a face, seemingly disgusted
with its presence. "The limp is nothing," he croaked, before clearing his
throat and continuing. "I twisted my ankle the other night while on a
run. It's getting better, but it's a damned nuisance. I should stay off of
it, but I can't seem to. I can't think unless I'm pacing."

"Jeff . . . " He started to speak, then paused, appearing to steel himself
before going on. "There's something I'd like to talk to you about." He was
staring at the beer, absently rotating the cold bottle on the
tabletop. When Larry finally looked up, Jeff faced a haunted man. He almost
gasped at the depth of pain he saw in Larry's eyes.

"Larry . . . " Jeff reached out a comforting hand, providing warmth to
Larry's fingers.  "What's wrong?"

"I'm in trouble." Larry groaned, bowing his head. "I mean, I'm troubled."
He shifted in his chair, clasping Jeff's hand in both of his. "Jeff --- I'm
troubled because I'm jealous of you and Phalen. I mean, I'm jealous of
Phalen. Actually, both statements are true." He released Jeff's hand and
knuckled both bloodshot eyes, continuing to speak. "There's so much I need
to say to you, I can't figure out where to begin."

"I'm here to listen Larry though if Phalen's involved, maybe he should join
us," Jeff ventured.

"No!" Larry jumped, then rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I
mean, no." He moderated his voice. "I need to talk to you --- alone." He
bowed his head and murmured. "I don't want Phalen to hear what I have to
say."

"Oh, I see." Jeff thought a moment, then added, "Larry, please don't put me
in a position where I'll have to lie to Phalen. I won't do that." Larry
nodded his understanding, squeezing Jeff's hand in appreciation.

"You say you're jealous?" Jeff prompted in an encouraging voice.

"Yeah --- I know I'm not being rational. I know it," he repeated. "You and
my son are partners!" Larry released Jeff's hands, stood up, and began to
pace with a halting step. "The more I see how happy you guys are, the more
I want what you have." He stopped to face Jeff, a hunger on his face. "I
want it desperately. --- I want at least a *chance* at happiness." He
resumed pacing.

"The other day, when Phalen showed me the ring you gave him, I realized how
far I had to go to achieve his level of happiness." Larry turned, wincing,
as he pivoted on his injured ankle, then ran his fingers through his hair,
resuming his halting walk.

"Jeff, I dream of meeting someone who will take me seriously when I share
things I love. I dream of not dreading to come home after work, of having a
relationship with someone who thinks of me as an equal, not a possession,
like Helen did. I would like to meet someone who knows how to laugh and
have fun. . ."  His voice trailed off into silence as he stared out the
windows to the backyard, his back to Jeff.

"Do you happen to know someone like that, and can't figure out where to
begin?" he asked from the dining table, noticing Larry heave a sigh. He
stood in silence a few moments longer, then shrugged, still looking out to
the backyard. "I guess I do."

"Do I know the person?" Larry nodded, turning back to the table and
hobbling over to stand behind a dining chair, leaning on it for support.

"He's all I think about, Jeff, his voice, his touch. --- Larry absently
stroked the back of the chair, his eyes unfocused. "It's been getting
worse." He turned his head toward the backyard, unwilling to meet Jeff's
gaze. "I haven't been able to stop. It's not healthy. It's terrible, in
fact!" Larry turned away, absently limping around the room.

"Who is it, Larry? Why is it so awful?" The room was quiet, except for the
hum of the air conditioner. "Larry?" Jeff repeated to the man once again
facing the backyard. "Who is this person who's captured your imagination?
I'd like to meet him." Larry remained silent. --- "Who is he Larry?" Jeff
coaxed.

Larry looked up with a haunted expression. "You." --- He limped to the
opposite end of the room in silence, as far away from Jeff as possible,
then turned. "Now do you see my problem?" he wailed, extending his arms to
either side, then dropping them limply. "I've fought it, Jeff! I really
have, but nothing has worked." He limped back to hold onto the dining
chair. "I've known --- on some level, since the day I met you, when you
gave me a tour of your house! He turned his wan face to Jeff, seeking a
reaction.

Jeff focused on his glass of water, slowly releasing his breath, trying not
to do something that would reveal the turmoil Larry's words had caused. He
reached for the water glass but stopped when he realized his hands were
shaking. Larry was once again aimlessly moving about the room and didn't
see Jeff's aborted move.

Over the past few months Jeff had developed a close relationship with
Larry, one he wished he had with his own father. In light of Larry's
expressions of love, he wondered what sort of relationship they could have
in the future. He didn't want to hurt him, but he also didn't want to
encourage Larry's feelings.

Larry had was once again staring out the windows to the back yard. Jeff
continued to sit quietly, examining his feelings. He hated to admit it but
the infatuation Larry had for him wasn't entirely one-sided. He recalled
how often he thought of Larry. He remembered the first time he saw Larry
naked, and the sudden unexpected surge of excitement he experienced. And
recently, seeing Larry in his yellow running shorts had caused a similar
reaction. Jeff recalled the feel of Larry's unshaven cheek against his,
when Larry comforted him as he spoke of his childhood abuse.

Jeff closed his eyes, swallowing around a lump in his throat, realizing how
strong his feelings for Phalen's father actually were. Unlike Larry though,
Jeff didn't think of his feelings as love. He loved Phalen. Larry had no
one to care for. It was going to be difficult for Larry to focus his
attentions elsewhere until he had someone special in his life.

Larry paused in his circuit around the living room. He turned back to
Jeff. "Since I've told you how much I care for you, I guess I better tell
you the rest." He shuffled back to the dining table. Jeff was leaning back
in his chair with his head bowed, his legs extending in front of him, lost
in thought. He looked up at Larry's words.

"There's more?"

Larry nodded, actually more a slight jerk of the head, than a nod. "After I
introduced Phalen to you, I went home and sat in the den, evaluating my
feelings for you, my life, Phalen, Helen, everything." When I left your
house that day, I was a mess. Meeting you had changed my life. In just a
few minutes, I wasn't the same man. I could no longer ignore some of the
things I had only suspected about myself." Larry sighed, once again
standing quietly before the windows to the backyard. He took a deep breath,
turning back to Jeff. "I came over here that evening because I wanted to
see you again, to talk to you. --- I thought." --- He paused, searching for
words. "Hell, I don't know *what* I thought. All I know for sure is I
wanted to see you again. Well, for some reason you had left your front door
ajar, so I didn't knock. And --- I found you guys sitting naked, obviously
just having had sex." Larry limped to the nearby sofa and perched on one of
the sofa's arms.

"I sat on the floor, right there." He pointed to a place where he had
spoken to Phalen and Jeff that evening, "I spoke to you guys about being
honest with yourself and everyone around you. Jeff, I was being a
hypocrite. How could I talk about honesty when I wasn't being honest with
either you guys or myself? I was being a coward."

"Larry, what did you do that's so bad?" Jeff prompted.

Larry let out a breath in a whoosh, then paused before he began
speaking. "Helen and I went on a short trip the day after I came over and
spoke to you guys." Jeff nodded, remembering how Phalen had raided Larry's
house for a coffee maker and dry clothes. He tried not to smile when he
remembered the night he met Phalen and, after a brief wrestling match,
jokingly pushed him fully dressed into the pool, then jumped in after
him. 'The moment I jumped fully dressed into the swimming pool, I knew I
was no longer master of my feelings.' Jeff mused, while Larry continued
speaking. 'In no time at all, Phalen had captured me, body and soul.'

He returned his attention to Larry. ". . . Jeff, while she and I were away,
I used the feelings I had just discovered for you to give me courage to
tell Helen I believed I was gay. I told her I hadn't acted on those
feelings, but I *wanted* to. *That's* why she ran off as soon as we got
back. Jeff, I used my feelings for *you* to get out of my marriage!" He
quickly added. "Oh, I didn't use your name or anything. I didn't think I
could tell her alone, so I used you to help me. --- Coward!" he hissed. "I
told Phalen I would never lie to him. How much difference is there between
lying to Phalen, lying to myself, and being a hypocrite?

"Now, do you see why I'm such a mess? I love my *son's* partner, and I
*used* that man to get out of my marriage!  Shit, I feel awful." He
abruptly stood, gasping in pain at the sudden movement. "You must be
sitting there thinking I'm a big jerk."

Jeff sat quietly for a moment, marshalling his thoughts. "No, Larry, I'm
thinking how difficult it has been for you to tell me these things. A jerk
wouldn't be talking to me. He would be trying to split Phalen and me up
rather than telling me what you have. A jerk would have created a story
using my name to hurt his wife. In both cases, he would have lied to get
what he wanted.  You never did those things. You behaved responsibly by
telling Helen of your feelings rather than fooling around behind her back."
Jeff sat up and leaned on the dining table. "Larry, you're no jerk. You're
just troubled by your emotions. I'm an expert on being troubled, remember?"

Larry snorted, grinning.  "So calm down and pull up a chair. You're making
me tired, watching you walk around. And it hurts to see you limping." Once
Larry had seated himself and had taken a few swallows of his beer, Jeff
continued.

"Larry, I'm flattered you think I am all those things you find attractive,
but if you really stop to think a moment, you'll realize it's not *me,*
Jeff Layson, you're attracted to." Larry raised his eyebrows, asking for an
explanation.

"I think you've imprinted on me; you know, like those newly hatched geese
who imprint on a cow, thinking it's their mother." Larry expressively
rolled his eyes at the ludicrous image, but leaned forward, intrigued by
Jeff's analysis.

"You probably had some notion that you *might* be gay, before ever meeting
me, right?" Larry nodded, sheepishly. "I think the day you met me you were
horny. Your hormones were working on overdrive, and then I come along and
talk about liking to be naked and stuff. If you were sexed-up to begin with
*that* couldn't have helped matters." Larry grinned in agreement. "You
probably wouldn't have had any problems if you had gone home and beat-off
instead of sitting down to reevaluate your life. --- At least a good orgasm
would have gotten it out of your system, so to speak." Larry shrugged and
grinned, admitting the possibility.

"Instead, you came back to the house and found Phalen and me, naked.  When
you saw us sitting there, wearing a smile, you realized I was gay, and
based on what you had only recently admitted to yourself, I instantly
became an object of infatuation. I was the answer to those nebulous
thoughts about being gay, you were having. I was the first gay man you met,
so --- you imprinted on me. You didn't think of Phalen as a possible sex
partner because he's your son."

Larry sighed. "Not quite true." Jeff raised his eyebrows and smiled.  "I've
thought about you guys having sex, of watching you --- of taking
part. Phalen's a small part of the problem too." The two men sat in silence
for a few moments before Larry looked up, grinning. "Jeff, you're no cow to
imprint upon."

Jeff smiled. "Thanks, I think. You see my point though, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess, but I still feel as if I've just been rejected. Isn't that
stupid? I mean, what was I expecting to happen? I'm all mixed up.  What
about using you to get out of my marriage?"

"I don't understand how you used me. My name was never mentioned. I never
came into the picture at all, as far as I can tell. You finally had a means
of articulating what you were feeling. I might have been the stimulus, but
I wasn't used. If I helped you vocalize what you had already been
suspecting, I'm glad.  So, where's the problem, other than you trying to
think of ways to beat yourself up?"

"I still love you, Jeff. That's a pretty big problem." After taking another
swallow of his beer, he continued. "Before meeting you I never seriously
*thought* of having gay sex. I was married! I would never have had sex with
anyone other than Helen although that didn't happen very often." He
grinned. "I can't really say I was unhappy with the situation, though. ---
It's funny. I knew I liked being around guys, but I never thought of having
sex with them.  Now, you and sex are all I think about. --- I have to tell
you, I have a very vivid imagination --- and *you're* the star in every one
of my fantasies."

"Wonderful!" Jeff clapped his hands together, once. "Fame at last!"

When Larry stopped laughing, he said, "See, *that's* what I want. Someone
to laugh and joke with, not someone I'm afraid to talk to." Larry remained
quiet a few minutes longer, staring at his beer bottle, and the
condensation running down its sides to puddle on the glass tabletop.

"I want someone to love, Jeff." He continued to draw a circle on the table
with his finger, running it through the condensation, never looking up. "I
want someone to love me back. --- Is that too much to ask?" he asked in a
plaintive voice, taking a ragged breath and fighting back tears.

"No, Larry. It's not too much. It's what you deserve." Jeff reached across
the table and took his hand. "But you can't limit yourself to thinking
about me." Larry didn't move, continuing to look disconsolate. "I know it's
not the type of love you mean, but I *do* love you. Not as I do Phalen, but
as the closest of friends, like a brother. --- I don't suppose that helps
much though, does it?"

Larry sniffed, then enclosed both of Jeff's hands in his. "It's more than I
would have expected you to feel. --- I can't just stop feeling the way I
do, though."

"I know." Jeff squeezed Larry's hands. "But having told me, you can put
those feelings into perspective." The two men sat in an uneasy silence,
reaching across the dining table to hold hands.

"Tell me, Larry, are there any other candidates for boyfriend? You
mentioned seeing someone before. Is he gay, or do you know?"

Larry smiled, ruefully. "Oh yes, he's gay. In fact we've been out on a
couple dates." Jeff raised his eyebrows, withdrawing his hands from Larry's
clasp. "The dates weren't serious, if that's what those wiggly eyebrows
mean. He's told me he thinks I'm sexy. He likes my smile --- and my butt."

"Oh ho, a discerning date, indeed. He knows a catch when he sees one." Jeff
enjoyed the change in Larry, as he described his friend. It was a welcome
departure from the troubled man of a few minutes earlier.

"Yeah, well --- I don't know about that. He *is* sexy though. My own
age. He's a doctor. He's really strong, though he can't run." Larry grinned
in recollection. "He wants me to think he can, but he can't." Larry smiled
to himself. "It was cute how he tried though."

"Better and better." Jeff leaned forward, anxious to hear the
details. "Tell me more of this strong doctor who pretends to be able to
jog, just so he can be near you."

"What kind of stuff? I don't know of anything else."

"Tell me what he looks like."

Larry sat back in his chair, once again wincing when he moved his ankle. He
grinned slightly, then continued his description. "He's tall, like I
said. --- Your height. Brown hair." Larry stopped to think for a moment,
then smiled. "His eyes are the color of peat, not green, like yours."

Jeff frowned. "Peat? You mean his eyes are brown?"

"No, peat. --- Lighter than brown. Really pale, framed by dark
eyelashes. They sparkle when he laughs. The eyes, not the eyelashes." Larry
grinned, pausing while he inventoried his memory. "He's got great hands ---
real strong and warm, sort of like . . ."

"This is getting good!" Jeff interrupted. "Keep talking. How'd you find out
about his *warm* hands?"

"He massaged my leg --- when I fell. We were jogging together. He likes my
yellow running shorts," Larry added in an amused tone.

"Who wouldn't?" Jeff laughed. "The first time I saw you wearing those
shorts, I wondered how you managed to stay. . ." Jeff paused, trying to
think of the correct word. He looked up, and grinned. "Contained!" he
concluded. "You'd turn any gay man's head."

He was pleased to see Larry smile. "You're blushing, Larry!"

Larry grinned, continuing to blush, pleased with Jeff's reaction. He
retuned to his description. "He says he likes my smile. I mean my
dimples. I never thought I *had* dimples."

"Who've you been looking at in the mirror? Larry, you sound like you're
enjoying . . . " Jeff motioned, asking to be supplied with a name.

"Andrew," Larry supplied.

"Andrew's company. Go for it! You'll never cross the finish line if you
don't start the race." He thought a moment. "Hey, I made a jogging joke!
How appropriate.

"Be happy, Larry." Jeff stood up and walked over to stand behind Larry. He
began massaging Larry's shoulders, relieved at the turn in the
conversation's direction. "You're a good man. Phalen's lucky to have you as
a father, and I'm lucky we've become so close." Jeff continued kneading the
shoulder muscles. "I wish I was as close to my own father as I am to
you. He's so stoic. It's as if he doesn't have any emotions."

Larry barked a laugh. "Well, if it's emotions you like, you've come to the
right man. I'm brimming over with them." He sighed, tilting his head back
and looking up at Jeff. "Phalen and I are a lot alike, you know. We can
both get pretty emotional when our insecurities have been triggered."

Jeff smiled, acknowledging the truth of Larry's comment. "Speaking of son,
I just heard the garage door.

"Jeff . . . "

"I know." Jeff gave Larry's shoulders one last squeeze, then headed for the
kitchen, calling over his shoulder. "It's great you could stop by for a
visit, Larry. If you don't have plans," they both heard the door open, "why
don't you join us for dinner?" Jeff asked, from the kitchen.

"Helllllooo, the star player is home from the game!" Phalen shouted,
slamming the door and hurrying to find Jeff. He sat his book bag on the
dining table and greeted his father.

"Hi, Dad. Are you here for dinner?" He squeezed his father's shoulder as he
passed, then walked up to Jeff and hugged him tightly, giving him a
prolonged kiss. Larry looked on, trying not to be jealous as Jeff
responded, holding his son close.

"Oh man, I've been thinking of doing that all day long." Phalen smiled
broadly, a sparkle in his eyes. "It was just as good as this morning."

Larry didn't comment, but smiled when Phalen leaned over the back of his
chair, hugging him and kissing him on the cheek. "How's the best father in
the whole world? --- You look beat. Are you okay?" Phalen began to massage
his father's shoulders, slowly working his strong fingers over the muscles
Jeff had so recently been working.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I twisted my ankle the other day when I was running. That
and a few other things have got me down." Larry reached up to his shoulder
and squeezed Phalen's hand, silently thanking him for his concern.

"As long as you're on the mend, I'm happy." Phalen continued the
massage. "You sure are tense."

Jeff glanced into the dining room, pleased to see Phalen holding his
father, exhibiting his unerring instinct to casually provide comfort to a
person in need. Larry had closed his eyes, enjoying Phalen's touch and
didn't see Phalen's worried glance at Jeff nor the answering shrug.

Phalen released his father, then walked to the kitchen and hugged Jeff
again, wrapping an arm around his waist, inspecting the dinner
preparations, before heading to the refrigerator.

"Are you guys this affectionate all the time?" Larry asked, accepting
another beer with a grateful smile, sighing when Phalen once again began to
knead his shoulder muscles.

Phalen laughed his boyish laugh. "No, Dad. We've toned it down 'cause
you're here." He ducked, as if avoiding a blow from Jeff. "I know, I
know. I'll be good."

Larry laughed at the infectious good humor of his son. "How'd the game go?
This was your last, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, hooray. --- We won! I scored twice. --- Pretty good, huh Jeff? Whoda
thought a small guy like me would ever score."

"What part of you did someone call small?" Jeff called from the
kitchen. Phalen giggled, picking up a stack of dishes and beginning to set
the table.

"I'm talking baseball, men," he laughed, temporarily lowering his
voice. "Get your minds out of the gutter! --- Someone around here has to
think about something other than sex."

"Who might that be?" Larry asked. "Certainly not me. That's all I think
about, lately."

"Dad!"

"Dad, what?" Larry leaned forward, resting his arms on the dining table,
with an intent look in his eyes. "Phalen, you have to start thinking of me
as a guy that enjoys sex as much as you. Just because I'm older than you
doesn't mean I don't enjoy sex, or beating off, or seeing you guys naked in
the pool, or whatever. The only problem is finding someone to fool around
with." Larry paused a moment, then added. "I'm not giving up though."

"Find that person soon, Dad." Phalen once again leaned over Larry's
shoulder, hugging him. "Find someone as good as Jeff."


----------


Jeff leaned back in his chair. The classroom was hot. The professor had
dismissed class early, taking the hint from the large number of students
dramatically fanning themselves. The heat was the least of Jeff's
concerns. Larry's feelings for him had disturbed him more than he wanted to
admit. Yesterday, with Larry pacing the room, baring his soul, it had been
difficult for Jeff to admit to himself that there were times when he had
been excited by Larry, his long legs and his shyness --- his butt. Jeff
thought nothing of the attraction. He was attracted to many men but was in
love with only one. 'It's strange,' he thought, 'how different Larry is
from his son - and how alike. Larry seemed to be reserved and
introspective. Phalen treated everyone as if they were a friend. Both are
sensitive to other people's needs and feelings.' Jeff sighed, once again
thinking about what a nice-looking man Larry was.

'Those yellow running shorts are certainly exciting.' Jeff grinned,
recalling the brief and sheer running shorts Larry had been wearing
recently. 'I wonder what his friend, Andrew, thought of those.' Jeff's grin
became a smile. 'If Phalen ever wore a pair of shorts like that, I'd jump
him!'

"Hey Jeff, you're taking your time getting out of here today. Doesn't the
heat bother you? Brad, Jeff's friend and fellow architecture student,
perched on the back of a neighboring chair, smiling his impish smile,
slightly cocking his head to one side, as was his habit.

"Heat never bothers me," Jeff laughed, picking up his bag, then standing
and turning to face Brad. "Remember, I grew up in snow country. Snow's nice
to look at, but that's about it --- at least as far as I'm concerned."

"I agree," Brad laughed, casually draping an arm over Jeff's shoulders as
they walked up the steps of the lecture hall toward the exits. "I'm from
Phoenix, so I can't handle the cold at all.' He gave Jeff a sly look as he
held the classroom door open for Jeff. "Of course, the cold has its
uses. It's nice to be able to snuggle up to someone on chilly evenings,
wouldn't you say?"

Jeff laughed. "It doesn't take a chilly evening for Phalen and me to
snuggle." Brad grinned, raising his eyebrows.

"Do tell."

"Phalen likes sweat," Jeff said, making a face. "Must come from being an
athlete. ---- Locker rooms and all that." Jeff glanced at Brad as they
began walking away from the architecture building.

'Brad certainly is a nice-looking guy,' Jeff thought, admiring his short
loosely curled black hair, his flawless skin and green eyes framed by long
dark lashes.

"Tell me about sweat,' Brad said, seeming to think of either a past
experience or a fantasy, Jeff couldn't tell which. "I love to wrestle with
another guy, working up a good sweat. I love the smell of a man on me." He
paused a moment, continuing to walk, almost in a dream-state. "I love it
when he's so hot, his sweat drips onto me, or mine onto him. --- I'd like
to lick it off . . ."

"Whoa, Brad. Down boy," Jeff teased. "I think your partner has an
interesting night ahead of him." Brad looked slightly sheepish. "I was sort
of getting carried away there." He laughed, slapping Jeff on the back, not
noticing the momentary flinch the friendly slap had triggered.

'The fear of an unexpected touch is still with me,' Jeff thought. 'The
counselor is helping, but not quickly enough!' He consciously stopped that
train of thought, knowing if he didn't he would find himself sitting in a
darkened room, remembering his childhood and the accompanying abuse.

Brad had continued to talk during the moment it took Jeff to control his
emotions and his face.

". . . I sound pretty wild, huh?" Brad grinned, turning to Jeff, shifting
his laptop bag to his other shoulder. "Actually, I'm pretty mild --- though
I did flash my dick at some people on a balcony in New Orleans once, during
Mardi Gras." He turned to watch for a reaction from Jeff. After a moment,
when he got no reaction other than the hint of a grin, he said loudly,
"Well, everyone *else* was doing it!" Jeff still said nothing. "Does being
sober when I hung it out, help?" Brad looked hopeful.

"Okay, okay, so I guess I'm not very wild in real life. But I've got some
great fantasies I hope to live out one day."

"Doesn't your partner get excited by your fantasies?" Jeff asked.

"Curt?" Brad laughed. "Jeff, he's a *business* major. Need I say more?" He
turned to Jeff, noticing the raised eyebrows, and relented. "Okay, he's not
*always* stodgy, but most of the time he makes *me* look totally wild, at
least until he gets into one of his domineering moods. Business majors,"
Brad said, puzzled. "One minute they're calm, the next minute they push you
around just so they can get their way. --- Believe me, it's true," he
continued. "It's a good thing I'm not too much of a top in bed." Brad
quickly glanced at Jeff to gauge his reaction to what he had just
said. "Curt has to be in charge --- in control --- all the time." He was
silent a moment, then turned to Jeff. "It's real tough for an architect to
give up control. We're not trained to give up easily, are we?" He didn't
wait for an answer, but heaved a dramatic sigh. "Well, I can't go home and
live out a fantasy tonight." Brad began walking faster. "Curt's got
something going, so I'm on my own."

"You know," he looked back over his shoulder, nodding for Jeff to catch
up. Jeff wondered at the sudden change in Brad's mood as he trotted
forward. Once they were side by side, Brad began his story again. "You
know, recently whenever I mention Curt, my mother will give me one of her
*looks,* you know the kind --- lowered eyebrows, knowing eyes, pursed lips,
the works. Then she crosses her arms and taps a foot impatiently, acting as
if I'm missing something obvious.

"'Bradley,' she says --- her voice is higher than mine, you understand. I'd
do an imitation, but I don't want you to think I'm gay." Jeff turned to him
with a puzzled look, attempting to keep up with the fast pace. "'Bradley,'
she says, continuing with the tapping foot,. 'When are you planning on
waking up so you can smell the roses!'"

"Roses?" Jeff asked in surprise.

"Yep, roses. Tell me, Jeff. What does it mean? She never used to say that
to me. Besides I don't like roses." --- He gave Jeff a surprised
look. "Come to think of it, she never calls me Bradley, unless she's doing
her rose-thing." He shrugged, continuing to walk fast. "She's got something
on her mind though.  I guess I'm supposed to be able to figure it out. I
don't know. I've asked my brothers, but if they know what she's talking
about they're not telling. It's a conspiracy!" He briefly raised his arms,
and voice, looking to the sky.

"But to answer your question, I'm alone tonight . . . " Brad almost
muttered, picking up a trailing thread of conversation.

"Then why are you determined to go somewhere so fast," Jeff asked, trying
to keep up. "And more to the fact, where are you headed?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm mildly irritated, I guess. I'm upset with Curt. We had made
plans for tonight, and he canceled them. He sent a text message to my phone
during class. He didn't seem to think our plans were very important. He
just said he had stuff to do. --- Sorry, I'm walking so fast. I pace when
I'm irritated. The faster I walk the more irritated I am," he explained. "I
don't know where I'm heading. I never do. When I get in one of those moods,
I find I just need to walk --- fast --- anyplace."

Jeff intentionally slowed down, waiting for Brad to notice. Finally Brad
did, and stopped, waiting for Jeff to catch up, giving him a sheepish grin
as he approached. "From the speed you're walking, I would guess you're more
than mildly irritated." Brad tried to grin, but acknowledged Jeff's
observation with a shrug.

"Yeah, I guess I am." Brad seemed as if he wanted to say more, but
hesitated. "It's just that Curt and I see so little of each other, what
with presentations and stuff like that needing to be done. I was hoping
we'd be able to spend some time together tonight."

The two men were silent for a moment, then Jeff patted Brad on the
back. "Well, since you apparently don't have anything going," Jeff said,
"why not come over to my place and we can hang out with my partner around
the pool.

Brad looked surprised. "That would be great. I didn't know if I'd ever get
to see either your mystery house or meet this partner of yours. Do you have
an extra swimsuit? I seem to have left mine at home, not thinking it would
be needed after structural design class."

"No suits needed, Brad." Jeff said in a deadpan voice, enjoying Brad's
puzzled expression. "We don't wear 'em," he concluded, watching Brad's
smile widen and his eyes begin to twinkle.

"And I thought *I* was wild," Brad laughed, then quickly became serious,
turning to Jeff. "You're not talking sex though, are you, Jeff, because I
won't cheat on Curt --- even with someone as sexy as you."

Jeff gave Brad a fleeting glance, surprised at the candid comment. "No, no
sex, just skin, sun, water, conversation, and a good time. No sweat. We
don't want you to start licking anything." Jeff grinned, pointing out a new
direction for them to walk.

"Skin's good," Brad laughed at Jeff's description.

Brad leaned close to Jeff talking in a lowered voice, suddenly
serious. "Did you notice those guys we just passed? Don't turn around," he
hastened to add. "A couple of trouble makers if I ever saw any, and they
seem to be watching us."

Jeff shrugged, but felt as if he had a target painted on his back.

"Gives me the creeps," Brad finished the sentence with an exaggerated
shiver, trying not to turn around to see if they were being followed.

"Since we're being serious," Brad grinned briefly. "I'd like to tell you
how great it is to see you feeling better. You had me worried, but I didn't
know what I could do, other than sorta watch out for you --- You *are*
doing better, aren't you?" He looked at Jeff once they crossed the busy
street, curving around this part of campus, then turned down the street to
Jeff's house, passing rows of palms, standing at attention.

Jeff cleared his throat, thrown off balance by the abrupt change in
conversation. "Yeah, I'm getting better. I haven't screamed at anyone
lately. That must have been bad for you, seeing me carrying on like that."
Jeff was reluctant to think about the panic attack Brad had witnessed. When
he recalled the frequent attacks, which had left him trembling and
exhausted, his work with the counselor seemed to be paying big dividends.

"Nah," Brad shrugged, waving his hand in dismissal. "Happens all the time
at home. I'm the only sane one in the family, you see." He grinned at
Jeff's surprised expression. "You already know about my mother and her
rose-thing." He paused a moment. "Well, everyone else is even more
strange." He turned to Jeff, who was silent, still thinking about the time
he had shouted at Brad while he was in the midst of one of his
'nightmares', thinking Brad was one of the men who had sexually abused him
as a child.

"You probably grew up in a very structured environment, didn't you?" Brad
asked.  Jeff grimaced but nodded agreement.

"Not me. The Kelly family are a bunch of raving lunatics, except for me, of
course. I'm too busy practicing to be wild," he said slyly, nudging Jeff
before he burst out laughing.

"Jeff enjoyed watching Brad abandoning himself to having a good
time. "Seriously, Brad, my partner and his dad have been great, and I'm
also seeing a professional to help me straighten things out. It's slow, and
sometimes I feel as if nothing's changed, but I know it has. I'm on the
mend."

"Glad to hear it. It couldn't happen to a nicer guy. --- I should say that
to all the men who invite me home to sit naked by their pool." He stopped a
moment, standing in the shadow cast by one of the palms lining the street,
then shook his head. "No, I guess that's not such a good idea," he said,
beginning to walk again, catching up with Jeff. "'Gee, glad to hear your
mind's getting fixed,' isn't such a good opening line, huh?"

"I guess not," Jeff picked up the story. "Not nearly as good as, 'Shit, I
didn't think dicks grew that big!'"

Brad once again threw back his head and laughed. "You're surprising me,
Jeff. You're not like you used to be. It's a nice change."

"Thanks Brad," Jeff said, grinning. "My mind's getting fixed."



~To be continued~



Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and comment on this
story. I've been overwhelmed at the response to 'Phalen,' and love to hear
from each of you.

If you would like me to send you a pic of the guys that inspired the main
characters in this story, email me.

Min rakastan sinua (I love you)
Mit (what)
Anteeksi (I'm sorry)

A special thanks to Larry S. for his assistance with the Finnish language,
and for being a good friend.  Thanks also to Evan Bradley for his
continuing encouragement, and for helping me make 'Phalen' a better story,
and lastly to Gwynne Yee, for her daily doses of humor, and insight into
the behavior of the characters.

A number of readers have written asking for the correct pronunciation of
the character's names.  They are:

Phalen (FAY-lin)
Kerin (KEAR-in)
Thian (THE as in Theater  (THE-in)


Thanks for reading.

Roy
roynm@mac.com