The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
PaTRick'S LuCKy CHarM 12 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Seeing there wasn't many hours left to this day, Patrick decided to choose the bold approach towards dealing with matters associated with his job. As Salv had built him up, to judge things for himself and take the appropriate action regardless of Alvarez's opinions, he reacts to the forces set before him.
Jumping out of his chair, he presses the light switch, casting the office into near darkness. Opening the door and closing it, he didn't bother to see if it locked. Something dire was on Patrick's mind and it drove him into action, running out of the door of the main lodge, breaking into a sweat as the afternoon sun backed his bod, dashed around a bush and set himself on the graveled path to the bungalows. He wasn't headed for Ke'ala's residence, instead Salv's.
Once inside he went straight for the dresser, rummaging through each draw till he came across what he was seeking. Regardless of color, he chose the blue speedo. Uncaring of where he was, Patrick unbuttoned his shirt, tore it out of his pants, stripped it and dropped it on the bed. With haste he kicked off his loafers in sync with unbuckling his belt. He stepped out of each pants leg. Quickly he stripped his briefs, one sock coming off with them, peeling the other one, all three remaining on the floor. He was on his way to the door with each foot stepping into the speedo. As the screen door banged shut, the speedo snapped at his waist about two inches below his navel. He bore the pangs of the gravel digging into the bottom of his feet, he ignored the sensation of burning-hot coals. He sprinted through the middle of two bushes and instead of heading out towards the main lodge, tore across the lawn at a light jog. About fifty feet from the Olympic sized
swimming pool he stopped dead in his tracks.
Guests were not allowed to do any diving from the board, but Patrick stood there with his mouth agape, seeing Ke'ala's sleek bod leap into the air, do a circular tumble and then straight out, his head entering the pool's surface without as much as a tiny splash. He makes judgment to himself, "Damn that was beautiful!"
He arrived at the end of the pool the same time Ke'ala finished up his sprint from the deep end to the shallow. The water rushed down his bod as he rose up out of the water, his hairy chest and embedded tummy trail looking all runny.
Patrick felt it, Ke'ala's eyes touching his feet, then knees, thighs, all the way up his teen treasure trail, his almost smooth bod, to his face. Ke'ala's smile made him smile.
"I'm so glad you suggested the swim. The water is so refreshing."
Looking down, it wasn't the refreshing water which was curbing Patrick's attention. But then his attention was diverted as Ke'ala extended his hand in invitation.
"Coming in?"
Ke'ala touching his offered fingertips made Patrick nervous. He could only think of saying, "That was the most beautiful dive I've ever seen anyone do."
Stepping up on his toes to slide his hand higher, Ke'ala engaged Patrick's hand in his. "I can show you how to do it." Suddenly his eye caught the metal disc, centered on Patrick's chest, angled at which made the sun reflect off of it.
Patrick looked down upon himself. Feeling Ke'ala's wet forearm touch his bod made him shiver.
"What?"
Frozen in place, his eyes staring deep into Patrick's, Ke'ala holds the metal from his own chest, so Patrick can see.
His eyes dashed from Ke'ala's face to the metal.
Ke'ala didn't break his fixation on Patrick's lovely hazel eyes as he read, "Be it... wherever you go... good fortune will follow."
"Um wait. No. That's what my medal says!" Patrick exclaims, with doubt another could possibly read the same.
"Yes, I know."
Then Patrick gets it, telling, "Your's it's the same?"
"Yes. This is a good omen."
"Well yes, it is quite a coincidence Ke'ala."
Then, recalling words from long ago, Ke'ala says, "My great-grandfather tells of a legend, of whomever wears a medal of this saying and meets another wearing the same, will be very good friends. He says this is how a medal like this works."
Off the cuff Patrick says, "Okay. I'll be your friend."
By the way Ke'ala stares at Patrick he got the notion they would become more than friends.
Stemming from what happened twenty minutes prior, Patrick voices opinion, "Um, you have every right to pop me one for this, but... well I don't usually go around telling people about this, but.. Well, when I get a strong feeling for saying something... my folks used to tell me I would tell it like it is and usually I was right about it, but..."
While Patrick pussyfooted around, Ke'ala felt something too, but instead of jumping the gun, telling his true feelings of wanting more, he says, "I hope this summer we can become good friends."
Unknown to each other, they both wanted to show how they felt, but the sounds of children's laughter and adults talking made it an uneasy situation for truly expressing themselves.
Nervous as well, Patrick chose to say, "So, you going to show me that dive?"
Before Ke'ala could do so, the lifeguard called Patrick to the side, asking Patrick to tell `his friend' diving was prohibited.
"Diving is prohibited," Patrick said the exact words uttered by the lifeguard, adding a giggle.
Ke'ala guessed it came from the lifeguard's concern.
"So what else can you teach me?" Patrick asks.
Ke'ala joked, "The swimming pool is too small for surfing!"
"I doubt you could catch much of a wave!"
So instead they sat at the edge of the pool, their feet dipped in. "So, about this lucky charm business..."
"Oh no," Ke'ala said in all seriousness, his hand resting on Patrick's thigh. "It is not luck. It is destiny."
"Destiny, huh? Like you mean something that is going to happen and we have no control over?"
And such a throbbing Ke'ala was feeling between his legs, plus a warmness of heart, compelled him to say, "Something which `is' happening and lasts forever. I need to be alone with you."
To Patrick it was an understatement, something he desired himself. Yet he didn't bring it up first because Ke'ala was older than he, plus he wasn't sure it was the right time to say it, it being hours since they first met. He figured stuff like this is meant for fairy tales and it was unreal to think love can happen at first sight. Unlike he's ever sensed, something was telling him what was happening was right and he felt comfortable about accepting. There was no contact as they lifted their butts from pool`s edge. Walking across the lawn they stuck to their separate paths. Passing through the two bushes, Ke'ala being the perfect gentleman, paved the way for Patrick, holding a branch of an evergreen bush.
At Ke'ala's bungalow door Patrick confesses, "I'm a little nervous. Can you tell?"
Ke'ala sweetly smiled, nodding his head up and down. But as they entered the room Ke'ala wasn't all about lightning moves to get Patrick into bed. "Would you like something to drink?"
The bottle of water was almost in Patrick's hand. He accepted.
Catching Patrick looking at him, not in the face, he realizes he's gotten snagged. "Um, your bod looks kind of different all dried out."
"Do you like me better dry or wet?"
Shrugging his shoulders, Patrick assesses, "Either way." And then revisiting the gold-toned medal lying in the bed of Ke'ala's almost black chest hair, Patrick asks, "When you said friends I was kind of getting a different meaning," he handled the metal object.
"Oh and how would that be?"
Setting the medal back on Ke'ala's chest, Patrick felt comfortable with Ke'ala. Maybe it was an omen afterall. A good one. He didn't feel at all nervous. "This is nice," two of his fingers take to feeling Ke'ala's damp chest fur. Realizing what's he's doing, Patrick pulls his hand away and says, "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything... I mean..."
Taking Patrick's hand in his, Ke'ala placed it on his chest, Patrick's whole palm feeling up hundreds of hair follicles. "You can use two hands if you like."
But when he disengaged his hand from holding Patrick's to his chest, it fell.
"Nah. I'm sor.... ry...." Ke'ala's staring was holding him in a trance. When Ke'ala picked both hands up, placed them back on his chest, Patrick's eyes dropped from eye level to pecs. "Feels real nice."
However, Patrick wasn't the only one exploring. Ke'ala's hands began rubbing up and down in between arms and Patrick's smooth bod.
For a second Patrick looked down when he felt the hands moving up and down his sides. Then a second later he was looking at Ke'ala. "It feels good, too."
"If I am doing anything which is making you uncomfortable, Patrick..."
"Oh no. You're not. Not at all." Fact of the matter, unlike before, Patrick let go of his inhibitions and was the first to step in close, his semi-wet bod coercing Ke'ala's to collide.
In fact, Ke'ala had no choice in the matter whatsoever! But neither held back and much to Ke'ala's concern, not to force' any issues with Patrick he was quite surprised when he felt a tug at his swimming trunks. Backing away he replies to the fingers', "You surprise me Patrick." And a fraction of a second later, "then again, how different was I when I was your age?"
Other than Jason, Patrick didn't know much about making it with a guy, but he knew there was lots more to it!
For the most part, at his age, twenty-seven, Ke'ala was not into one-night-stands. Not which he was feeling this was leading up to, but for all due purposes, he backed away from Patrick's prying fingertips.
Patrick could of said something, but couldn't find the words. On the contrary, his thoughts were of him `rushing it' for which he sensed responsibly, "I'm sorry. I suppose I lost control and..."
"I did likewise."
Eyes focused on each other, the two knew it was of no consequence, their feelings of losing control, maybe a poor choice of words on both parts. Compulsion, fueled from the heart, mind and between the legs, played a part in this, but both seemed reluctant to admit it.
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Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....