Phalen

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 10

Jeff stepped out of the shower, releasing a cloud of steam, which instantly fogged the mirror where Phalen was shaving. It was the last day of what Phalen had been calling his honeymoon, a long weekend at one of the best resorts in Phoenix.

Jeff had enjoyed Phalen's reaction to everything that had happened during the holiday, from his proposal, to last night's adventure of sneaking out to swim nude in one of the resort's pools.

Phalen, on the other hand, marveled at the change in Jeff since he had spoken of his childhood sexual abuse. Gone were the nightmares and periods of terror brought on by something as simple as a person laughing. In their place, Phalen saw a stronger, more assertive man being created.

The bad memories were still there, and surfaced from time to time, but the intensity of the attacks was lessening. With the professional help he was getting, Phalen believed that soon the memories would be banished.

Phalen frowned as the mirror clouded. "What is it with you and hot showers?" He leaned over the counter and began to towel the mirror dry. "You never got the cold winter months out of your bones, did you?" he asked, dropping the towel on the counter and returning to the task at hand.

Jeff shrugged in amused agreement. "I love the heat. That's almost like a sauna." He gestured toward the now-empty shower. "You're right though," he said, running his fingers through his wet hair. "When I was growing up I hated the cold --- and the long dark winters." He stretched, reaching to the ceiling, thrusting his hips forward and twisting from side to side, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It's funny, those winters don't seem so bad now that I don't have to endure them." He reached for a nearby towel and began to vigorously dry himself, admiring Phalen's naked body, entranced by the rippling shoulder muscles, the biceps, and flexing cheeks of the nearly hairless butt.

"What have you found to look at that's so interesting?" Phalen finished rinsing his face of the remaining shave cream, then stood, looking at Jeff's reflection in the mirror.

Called back from his fantasies, Jeff resumed drying his hair. "You, of course. I've never seen anyone so sexy." Phalen's reflection grinned, his eyes following Jeff across the bathroom until their bodies were touching, Jeff's skin still breathing a comfortable warmth against his back.

Jeff wrapped his arms around Phalen, holding him close, kissing his neck and burying his face in his hair. Phalen's scent was intoxicating. Even though he was fresh from a shower, it clung to him, heightening Jeff's excitement.

'A few months ago, I could only have dreamt of holding someone like this,' Jeff mused, adjusting his penis to lay flat against Phalen's back. 'After the things I endured as a child, I didn't think anyone would want me, or that I could ever be intimate. Now, I'm not only wanted, but loved.' He smiled into Phalen's hair. 'What have I done to deserve this happiness?'

"Ohhh yessss," Phalen hissed at the feeling of Jeff's tongue on his neck and back. The hiss became a groan of pleasure when Jeff knelt and began to massage, then kiss his ass cheeks.

Phalen spread his feet farther apart, forcing himself against Jeff's tongue. He rested his forearms on the bathroom counter, glancing at himself in the mirror. He was excited by the reflection of the man behind him, as well as the feel of his broad hands, strong and demanding one moment, feather-light the next. "You like my butt, don't you, big man?" Phalen asked, his voice husky with growing passion.

"Um hum," came an answering mumble. Jeff buried his tongue deeper in the cleft between the cheeks, insistent in his demands.

Phalen abruptly pushed away from the counter, and from Jeff's tongue. He turned around and took Jeff's hands, helping him stand. "Let's go to the bedroom." With a mischievous smile, he climbed onto the bed and lay on his back, drawing his knees to his chest, exposing himself. "Since you want it so badly, it's all yours."

Jeff looked down with lust-filled eyes, licking his lips. He knelt on the floor at the foot of the bed and pushed Phalen's knees farther back, before running his tongue in a broad wet swath, from Phalen's pucker up to his testicles, then back again.

Phalen gasped, both in pleasure at the sensations, and at Jeff's new-found assertiveness. The self-effacing, timid man he met a few months before, was morphing into Phalen's picture of the ideal lover, assertive and strong, yet gentle and caring. Jeff was beginning to shed the years of pain caused by his sexual abuse, and was showing a level of confidence that thrilled Phalen.

"Yeah, the big man knows what he wants," Phalen moaned. "You're ready to do more than lick my hole, aren't you?" There was a mumbled response, while Jeff's tongue continued its work. "You like how it pulses whenever you lick across it?" Phalen murmured. Another mumble, and increased pressure, as Jeff pushed his face against the spread cheeks and hairless hole.

"Fuck, this is driving me crazy," Jeff muttered to himself, breathing heavily. He sat back on his heels, admiring the man in front of him. Phalen's eyes were closed, his cheeks flushed. The smooth chest, stomach and legs were always exciting to Jeff, as was the dense patch of pubic hair and thick penis, lying rigid against a flat stomach. Lastly, there was the object of his attention, Phalen's anus, hairless and wet with his saliva.

He reached out, bringing his fingers close, then bit his lip, as if having trouble making up his mind. He withdrew his hand, and caressed Phalen's ball-sack, noting how each testicle moved aside at his gentle touch. Lastly he wrapped his fingers around Phalen's penis. It pulsed in his hand, glad to be touched, anxious for relief. Jeff rubbed his thumb against the underside, smiling at the resulting groans. His mind was troubled.

'If I touch him, will I be able to stop myself? Will I hurt him?' Jeff's eyebrows drew down in a slight frown. 'I'll never forget the pain I felt. --- I'm capable of inflicting that same pain on Phalen.' Jeff's hand stopped moving. He glanced up to see Phalen watching him, aware of the struggle he was having.

"It's okay, Jeff," he murmured, his voice soothing in the quiet room. "Go ahead. Touch me with your finger. Tell me what you feel." He paused while Jeff slowly, almost reluctantly, extended his hand, glancing at Phalen for permission. Phalen nodded. Jeff bit his lip, forcing his hand to move further. When his fingers lightly touched Phalen's anus, both men sighed, Phalen at the touch, Jeff at a milestone achieved.

Tentatively at first, Jeff moved his finger over the smooth hole, a surprised chuckle escaping his lips. He rubbed across the pucker, each time pausing and slightly pressing, before moving away. With each pass the pressure increased, as did the frown and the troubled expression.

"Do it, Jeff," Phalen urged, his voice low and hypnotic. "Do what you want to do. Do what I want you to do. --- It feels so good now, make it feel even better."

"What if I . . . "

Phalen interrupted. "You won't. --- You can't hurt me. --- Jeff, you were a child when you were hurt. I'm not. If you start to hurt me, I'll tell you --- I promise." Phalen waited a moment longer, then continued. "Please, Jeff. We both want it. Let me feel your finger in me. --- Please," he whispered.

Jeff brought a broad forefinger to his mouth. Without looking at Phalen, he rubbed the wet finger across the hole once, feeling it tense at the touch, then relax. He used more pressure, on the second pass. On the third, he again bit his lip and pressed harder, penetrating Phalen, who sighed in pleasure.

Jeff quickly checked to see if Phalen was okay, then pressed further, reaching Phalen's prostate. "Holy shit," Phalen gasped, bucking his hips, impaling himself fully on Jeff's finger.

Jeff flinched, but was transfixed, eventually taking a ragged breath. "Oh, Phalen. I've dreamt of touching you like this. I never --- never thought I could." His voice faded. "I never thought I'd be able to." He seemed surprised. "It's so hot, and tight." He gasped when Phalen tightened his muscles. "Oh," he inhaled, surprised at the move, --- "wow," he exhaled slowly.

"I've got to cum. I'm drooling on the fucking carpet, this is so good." Jeff struggled to his feet, then knelt on the foot of the bed, never removing his finger.

"Shoot on me, Jeff, Phalen urged. "Rub my prostate and beat off with me.

Jeff scooted closer, using his pre cum as a lube. "It's not gonna take long for me," Phalen groaned, with each stroke of his hand. The pressure against his prostate was electrifying, as was the sight of Jeff, sensuously masturbating himself, and the long strand of pre cum, extending from Jeff's penis.

Jeff could feel Phalen's prostate engorge with his approaching orgasm. "I'm about --- there --- lover," he gasped between strokes, his perspiration dripping onto Phalen, following the contours of his body before dampening the bedclothes. "I'm just --- about --- about --- there, he groaned, pressing against Phalen's prostate with his finger at the same time he milked his own cock, grunting as each thick jet of sperm landed on Phalen's belly.

The sight of the first splash of Jeff's sperm on his stomach sent Phalen over the edge. He pumped himself dry, excited by the sight of Jeff slowly masturbating himself, and the feeling of the finger massaging his prostate.

"You okay?" Jeff asked shyly, slowly withdrawing his finger.

Phalen grinned and nodded, chuckling. "I've died and gone to heaven. --- Can't you see the halo?" He raised his eyes, appearing to be searching for the halo's glow.

Jeff laughed in relief, then lay on his back, next to Phalen. He rubbed his eyes, then ran his fingers through his hair before propping himself up on one elbow. "I sort of lost control near the end," he half apologized. "I don't want to hurt you, Phalen. --- Not ever. --- I'm afraid I might lose control someday." He was quiet for a moment before continuing. "I could never bring myself to hurt you." His breath caught. "Like --- like I . . ."

"Shhh, Jeff. You'd never hurt me. --- You couldn't." Phalen giggled. "Remember, you've got a brawny athlete as a lover. If you try to hurt me, I'll wrestle you down to the floor and show you who's boss. --- I've done it before, I can do it again," he added, when he saw Jeff's incredulous expression.

Jeff admired how Phalen had deftly diverted his anxiety. "Brawny," he crowed. "In your dreams!"

"Hey, watch it! I'd teach you who's boss right now, but I've got a puddle on my stomach."

Jeff took a ragged breath, still caught up in his fears and memories. He snuggled close and whispered in Phalen's ear. "Thank you, lover --- for what you're doing for me."

"What did I do? It seemed to me you were the one in charge." --- Phalen paused a moment. "Just the way I like it."

Jeff opened one eye to regard the man lying next to him.

"You know what I mean."

Phalen raised his head, contemplating the large pool of sperm. "My only question is what are you going to do about this stuff on my stomach? --- Do you happen to have any ideas?" He wagged his tongue at Jeff, as a suggestion.

Andrew stole a glance at Larry, his date, amused at how he seemed to never stop talking. The passing street lights and occasional traffic signal, cast alternating colors into the car's interior, going unnoticed by Larry, who paused only when the latest story wound to its conclusion. 'He doesn't seem to realize he's rambling,' Andrew thought. 'Surely he doesn't do this all of the time.' He leaned his head back against the headrest and listened.

"Larry, why are you still nervous?" he asked, during a brief pause. "I thought you left that feeling back at the restaurant." Andrew had joined Larry for dinner, to help him celebrate his divorce, but had spent much of the evening coaxing Larry out of the shell in which he had encased himself during his nineteen year marriage. His wife had left him bereft of a sense of self worth. He was a thirty seven year old lawyer who had always been a peacemaker at home. In order to keep the peace, he had learned never to express his own opinions, or voice his own needs. Now, alone at last, he was having to build a new identity. Watching the struggle was amusing and painful in equal measure.

"You really don't have anything to fear from me, you know," Andrew continued. As he said it, he knew he wasn't being entirely truthful. His life had been one long series of brief affairs. As a psychiatrist, he knew his behavior hid a deeper problem --- a problem he never had the courage to examine. 'I'm bad news for this man. It would be best if I told him I couldn't see him anymore.' Andrew squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable with the admission. 'I don't want to tell him that. He's a nice guy, in addition to being sexy as hell.' The silent argument continued, following the same script as the last time it was played-out. 'I haven't felt something like this since. . .' He frowned, unhappy with the direction his thoughts had led. 'Since the last guy I dated,' he concluded in embarrassment.

While Andrew was arguing with himself, Larry had pulled up to the curb and stopped the car, turning the lights off. He was quietly holding onto the steering wheel as if it were a life preserver.

"You didn't leave being nervous at the restaurant, did you?" Andrew prompted, returning to his earlier question, choosing to ignore his nagging subconscious.

"Yeah, well --- I guess I didn't. Being nervous is not something I can ignore. I've got to overcome it." He glanced at Andrew before continuing. "I've never had a chance to do much socializing, not even at the office. Helen didn't like my co-workers, and she didn't want to go out, even for dinner. As a result, I'm not very good when it comes to things like this." He made a brief gesture encompassing both him and Andrew, before once again grasping the steering wheel, lost in thought.

It took a moment for Andrew to realize Larry was describing a pattern of continuous psychological abuse at the hands of his ex-wife. 'This man,' he thought, 'has been beaten up as surely as if he was the loser in a fist fight. Only in his case, the bruises aren't visible. --- In fact, I'm not really sure he's aware of how deeply he's been wounded.' He glanced at Larry, seeing him and his behavior in an entirely different light. Andrew didn't think Larry noticed the momentary frown, or the anger, dispelled by the tightening of his fist.

Larry continued, staring out the windshield of the car, not focusing on anything. "You see --- I don't want to screw this up, and I'm afraid that no matter what I do --- I will." Larry fidgeted, audibly swallowing, continuing to look uncomfortable. "This is all so new to me. I feel like some kid out on his first date."

"Isn't that what this is, in a way?"

Larry look perplexed for a moment, then grinned. "Yeah, I guess it is." He turned to Andrew, releasing the steering wheel. "I don't like appearing to be foolish or stupid. I hate stupid." Andrew watched him with a bemused smile.

"You seem so at ease, and here I am, all anxious, acting like a fool. How can you be so calm?" Larry moaned, leaning his forehead on the steering wheel. "I'll bet you're not even sweating!" he continued, looking up.

Before Larry could make himself feel worse, Andrew leaned closer, bringing an extended finger to Larry's lips, amused at the wary look in his eyes, as he attempted to watch both the advancing finger, and the man sitting nearby. "Relax handsome," Andrew murmured, when his finger came to rest. "You're not acting stupid. You're worried about what you should do next. --- Or maybe you're worried what I'll do next. Do you suppose?" Larry barely nodded, mute for a moment, briefly looking cross-eyed at the finger still resting on his lips.

"You can relax." Andrew removed the silencing finger, but not before he tilted Larry's chin up, and with a lingering touch, looked into his eyes. He saw the pain, and the fear, and a longing for something else. He paused a moment, taken aback by the naked emotions, then reluctantly released Larry's chin. "I'm not going to jump you, or ask for a good night kiss."

"You're not?" Larry's voice squeaked upward. Andrew hated not being able to kiss Larry, but Kerin had been right; the man was too vulnerable.

Andrew grinned, shaking his head.

"Oh, I didn't know." Larry momentarily looked away.

"You sound disappointed."

"I don't know exactly what I'm feeling. --- Maybe I am --- a little," he said, continuing to stare blankly out the window, his hands now resting on his lap.

"Come on handsome, don't look so down. I've had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you for a great dinner --- and all the conversation," he added, giving Larry's shoulder a companionable squeeze. "I haven't had such a nice evening in a long time." He opened the car door, but turned back when Larry continued talking.

"Ah, wait a moment! I, um, I had a good time too --- Can we go jogging, sometime --- soon? I mean, I'd like to see you again --- that is, if you want --- to. Okay?" He concluded feebly. Larry chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "Geez, I'm not only behaving like a kid, I sound like one too." He paused a moment. "I hope I never sound like that in court. --- That would be awful!"

Andrew squatted outside the open car door, continuing to smile. "You'd really like to see me again? You mean you'll let a guy you know to be gay, see your sexy body --- in your yellow jogging shorts?"

"That show off my pubic hair. Remember?" Larry grinned, flashing his dimples. Andrew was pleased that Larry's mood seemed to have brightened.

"You're going to check that out as soon as you get home, aren't you?"

"Damn right I am! If I'm putting on a show, I at least like to know what people are seeing. --- but, I would like to get together again, I mean, if you would."

"Yes, I'd like that. What about tomorrow, after work? We can meet at the university's student rec. center and jog around campus. I'll be looking for someone wearing yellow shorts."

Larry waved as the car door closed. "Thanks again, Larry." Andrew leaned over and spoke through the open window. "I had a great time. --- You're one sexy man." Larry started the car, jumping slightly when Andrew slapped the car's roof. Andrew didn't look back as he let himself inside, then closed the front door, still whistling.

Andrew entered the quiet house, lost in thought. 'Oh my.' He leaned back against the closed door, resting his head against the wood, staring into the darkness. 'I'm supposed to deal with this kind of thing at work, not in my private life.' He pushed himself away from the door.

'I'm glad I listened to Kerin's advice not to jump him. I certainly wanted to. But if I had, I surely would have made things worse. On the other hand, not kissing him good night could make him feel like something was wrong with him. --- What a mess!'

Andrew stripped off his Polo, holding it in one hand, running the other across his hairy chest, enjoying the sensation. 'Tonight was a big step for Larry. I hope I didn't do anything to make it more difficult for him. --- I had to watch myself. --- Hell, I couldn't stand up all evening, I was so hard!' He grinned at the memory, gripping himself through his slacks.

'Damn, he's one sexy man! I can just imagine what it would be like, lying naked next to him.' He continued to be lost in thought as he walked down the dark hallway towards his son's room. --- 'I never realized what a sexy butt he has. Then, there's his smile and those dimples! --- Yep, I am definitely a lucky man. --- I love the dimples.' He ignored the voice recalling the pleasure he took in past smiles.

The door to the twins' room stood open. The lamp next to Kerin's desk was still lit, and the gymnast computer screensaver was engaged in a series of endless summersaults. His sons' clothes were scattered in a line that went from the desk to the bed. Andrew grinned at their enthusiasm, and could easily imagine them hastily stripping, dropping their clothes on the floor before falling into each other's arms.

The boys were sleeping soundly on their too-small bed. Thian was on his stomach, his head resting on his brother's shoulder. Kerin was lying on his back, softly snoring, with Thian's arm across his chest, holding him close. The bedclothes had been thrown off and were puddled on the floor. 'Damn, I'll have to wait to tell them about Larry. They're going to like him as much as I do.'

Andrew turned the bedroom light off, before walking to his room with a spring in his step.

"Thank you, Mr. Layson." The chauffeur accepted the tip Jeff handed him, before nodding and smiling at Phalen, who stood nearby, their bags at his feet. Phalen waved, causing the man to grin, before he closed the limousine door and pulled away from the curb.

Larry intercepted them as they walked up the drive to the courtyard door. "Hey guys," he called, trotting over. "I'm glad I saw you. I'm heading for a long run with a friend --- in case you try to call." Larry looked great in his yellow running shorts and tight burgundy t-shirt, emblazoned with the university's sun devil mascot. Jeff always admired Larry's long legs, shown off by the brief shorts that clung to his ass cheeks and never seemed quite up to the task of containing his balls.

"Hey Dad," Phalen said, moving close and hugging him. Larry put his arm around his son's shoulders, thinking. 'There's something different about the guys --- other than Phalen's hair, and the fact that he's anxious to tell me something. --- I wonder what he did to his hair.'

"That was pretty fancy transportation. I take it you weren't out buying groceries." Larry smiled at Jeff, who grinned a greeting.

Phalen was bouncing on the balls of his feet, anxious to begin his tale. "No, no groceries. Jeff took me to the Phoenician Resort, for something like a honeymoon." He moved away from his father, to stand close to Jeff. "We rode over there in a limousine, too. We've been gone since Saturday! Look at the ring he gave me!" Phalen extended his hand for his father's inspection.

Larry took his son's hand, examining the ring quietly while Phalen told him of the engraved message. Larry glanced at Jeff with an unreadable expression. "That's wonderful, Phalen. It's a beautiful ring." --- He paused a moment before releasing Phalen's hand, then looked up, attempting to smile. "Did you guys have a good time?"

"We sure did! That place is awesome." Phalen resumed his story, becoming animated once again. "We got all dressed up. You shoulda seen us. We both got a complete makeover. That's where I got these streaks in my hair." He grinned, running his fingers through his hair in one quick motion. "We were dressed up, looking really hot, except I thought it looked like we just got out of bed! I kept wanting to comb my hair." He briefly turned to glance at Jeff. "He had his hair done the same way --- without the streaks. It looked great! It must be the new style or something, kinda messy and sticking up."

"I wondered what happened." Larry reached out to touch his son's hair. "Popular, huh?"

Phalen grinned and nodded.

"Streaks and everything?"

"I guess. It looked better the other night, when it was all standing up." He smiled, comically tugging his hair into a semblance of what the stylists had done. He faced his father, spreading his arms wide and wearing a goofy grin. "Well, whatcha think?

"Must have been quite a sight!" Larry laughed.

"Yeah, everyone was jealous because I was with Jeff. They kept watching him, thinking how sexy he is, huh big man?" Phalen shouldered Jeff, who grinned.

"It seems to me it was the other way round." Jeff took over narration of the story. "You wouldn't have believed it, Larry. We went to the pool, and Mr. congeniality here, instantly became the center of attention. All the women flocked over to talk to him. Their boyfriends and husbands wondered what had happened!"

"Musta been my animal magnetism, huh?" Larry rolled his eyes, looking skyward. "They weren't interested in me," Phalen insisted. "They wanted to see my ring."

"Or your hair," Larry supplied.

"You think?" Phalen reached up, once again running his fingers through his hair.

"Or your yellow swim suit," Jeff added.

"Yellow?" Larry asked, turning to his son.

"Yeah, really sexy, tight like the running shorts you're wearing. Jeff has a suit just like it. It shows off his --- his --- butt," he finished, turning a devilish smile on Jeff. "Among other things," he added. Larry guffawed.

He turned back to his father, resuming his story. "It was so romantic, Dad. Jeff sort-of proposed, while we were having dinner. We were eating outside on some sort of terrace, candles, musicians, flowers all over the place --- all sorts of stuff." Phalen again turned to Jeff, putting his arm around his waist. "He was so cute, trying to remember what he wanted to say, at the same time he tried to keep from getting choked up." He looked at Jeff, smiling brightly, before continuing his story.

"'Course, I 'bout ripped my napkin in half I was so tense. --- People started applauding when he put the ring on my finger. Oh, and the waiter brought champagne!"

"Phalen, you're only eighteen!"

"I know, but he did it anyway. It was nice of them, don't you think? Besides, you gave me a six pack of beer to help break the ice with Jeff." Larry grimaced in recollection. "It was so cool. --- Oh, another thing. The Director of Romance guy kept sending us big vases of roses."

Larry had been watching his son, enjoying his excitement, Periodically his gaze would shift from Phalen to linger on Jeff. --- This was the man he fantasized about, the man whose soft voice and exotic accent could make him shiver --- and the man who loved his son.

Larry enjoyed secretly watching Jeff, the way his green eyes would twinkle as he was telling a story, and the way he sometimes hesitated, unsure how to say what he wanted, in English. He often recalled being touched by Jeff's broad long-fingered hands, of being surprised at their strength --- and their warmth. Larry longed to run his fingers through Jeff's thick black hair, then caress his broad chest. Alone at night, he would masturbate, fantasizing about being kissed by Jeff, and of his thick penis and muscular butt, that flexed with every step.

It seemed as though Jeff had been constantly with him since they met. --- He woke up with Jeff, worked with him, and cuddled his pillow each night, imagining Jeff lying next to him.

Larry looked away, once again listening to his son. ". . . And we danced on our balcony in the moonlight. It was great! --- Jeff's the best, don't you think?" He returned his arm to Jeff's waist, pulling him close, looking first at Jeff, then his father.

"Yes, Phalen." Larry glanced up, and saw Jeff watching him. "I've always thought so." Jeff broke eye contact, turning to watch Phalen. There was a long pause before Larry concluded. "I'm happy for you both --- really."

"Thanks, Dad. --- I can tell." Phalen's voice trailed away. He was kept from saying anything more by a tightening of Jeff's arm around his shoulder, and a brief shake of his head. Both men turned to Larry, who seemed to have missed the subtle messages being exchanged. Phalen appeared puzzled by his father's behavior. Jeff was troubled.

"Well, um." Phalen turned to Jeff, uncomfortable with the silence. "Hey Jeff, I want to call Kerin and tell him about our weekend. See ya later, Dad!" Phalen briefly waved at his father, before gathering up the bags and heading for the house. He looked back over his shoulder as he left, unable to figure out what was happening.

"Phalen, wait a minute. Don't go inside yet!" Jeff shouted over his shoulder to the retreating back.

Jeff turned to Larry with a concerned look. "Is everything okay, Larry? You seem sort of down."

"No, Jeff." Larry answered, with a catch in his voice. "I guess. --- Things are fine. It's just that . . . " Larry paused, looking uncomfortable, then shook his head, shifting from foot to foot. "It's nothing really, but I would like to speak with you about something --- alone --- if you don't mind." Larry got his features under control, then looked up and grinned, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

"Sure, Larry. Any time is good. You're always welcome."

"Good, I'll give you a call. Now, you better go. Mr. newlywed is all excited, and you won't let him inside." Jeff reached over and squeezed Larry's shoulder, flashing a supportive smile, before he turned to follow Phalen. He didn't notice Larry reach up to touch his shoulder, the slow wave --- or the troubled look in his eyes.

Larry turned with his head down. He sighed, then headed for his car, and his jogging date.

"Phalen, don't be in such a rush!" Jeff was breathless as he rounded the corner of the house. "I need to do something." Phalen turned, watching Jeff hurry to his side.

"What? Can't you do it inside?"

Jeff stood close. "No, I can't. Put the bags down."

"Here?"

"Don't argue, just do it." Jeff watched as he lowered the bags to the brick walk, then straightened with a questioning look in his eyes. Jeff smiled at the expression, then reached around Phalen to swing the door open. Phalen watched the movement, continuing to look puzzled, until Jeff bent down and scooped him into his arms, hesitating a moment to maintain his balance, then walked across the threshold into the courtyard. Once inside, he kicked the door, which closed behind them with a satisfying thunk.

"Damn, you continue to surprise me." Phalen kissed Jeff's cheek. "You're as much a romantic as I am, aren't you?"

Jeff nodded, looking sheepish.

"You can put me down now." Phalen whispered.

"Oh yeah --- sorry. --- You're not heavy." Jeff carefully returned Phalen to a standing position, reluctantly letting go.

"Sorry for what? You never have to apologize for holding me." He circled Jeff's shoulders with his arms, pulling him close for a kiss. "Thank you for the best weekend, ever." He leaned his head on Jeff's shoulder, continuing to hold him. "You know what we should do now?"

"Go inside and have sex?"

"Besides that." Phalen began nuzzling Jeff's neck, then whispered in his ear. "We should probably get our bags. --- They're still outside the door."

Larry drove in silence, frustration filling the inside of the car. 'So, Jeff gave Phalen a ring. Why should that make me feel so rotten? Larry studied the problem, trying to be objective. 'Am I begrudging them their happiness?' He chewed on his lower lip, the car's air conditioning ruffling his hair in silence. The long shadows cast by the palms lining the street were like a strobe light, flashing as he drove past, oblivious to the pulsing rhythm.

'Admit it, Weston. You're depressed because Jeff loves your son, not you!' The admission stung no less today than the first time he realized how strongly he felt for Jeff. Larry massaged the back of his neck, trying to keep focused as he pulled into the Student Rec Center parking lot. He maneuvered into a parking space, too tight for his car, then stopped the engine, and momentarily rested his head on the steering wheel. His thoughts were awhirl. Why, he continued to ask himself, why was he obsessed with Jeff --- his slow laughter, his shy smile, his voice . . . "

'Augh,' Larry groaned, slapping the steering wheel. 'You're going to have to do something, Weston! You can't go on like this! The first thing you have to do is admit to yourself that you will have to live with the fact that you will only be able to love Jeff from a distance. He will never share your life --- or your bed.'

Larry opened the car door wearing a scowl. He grabbed his cell phone and got out of the car, his mind in no less turmoil than when he left home. He looked up at his name being called, to see Andrew waving an arm from the edge of a nearby practice field. He returned the wave, then trotted over to join him. Sure enough, Andrew looked great in his red shorts. They cupped both his butt and balls, highlighting both.

"Whoa," Andrew said, as Larry approached. "Those yellow shorts are even better than I imagined!" He enjoyed both the transformation of Larry's expression to a pleased smile, and the companionable slap on the back. Andrew quickly knelt, pretending to tie his shoe, but actually taking a close look at the shorts, he teased Larry about. "Is that your pubic hair I see, Mr. Weston?" He looked up and winked.

"I hope so." Larry responded, surprising Andrew, who stood and lowered his voice, leaning closer.

"You know, of course, I beat off last night, thinking about your pubic hair, and the yellow shorts."

"Really?"

"Yup." Andrew nodded, before craning his neck to look at the seat of the shorts. "Now I realize I should have included your butt as part of the fantasy." He laughed when Larry tried to look over his shoulder to see what was so nice about his butt. He reached up and squeezed Larry's shoulder. "Take my word for it pal, the view of the back is almost better than the front."

"You really beat off, thinking of me?" Larry seemed entranced by the idea.

"Last night --- twice. I had to, just so I could go to sleep! I was stiff all through dinner, you know." He paused a moment, then continued, as if in confidence. "Sexy men have that affect on me." Larry's grin broke into a wide smile, displaying his dimples at their best.

"Twice?"

Andrew nodded, then added. "But only once today, so far." Larry laughed, playfully pushing on Andrew's shoulder, obviously pleased to be thought of as fantasy material.

"I don't believe you." Larry laughed, beginning to run. Andrew followed, admiring the long legs and the way the muscles of Larry's butt flexed with each stride.

"What do you want --- proof?" Andrew looked over as they ran, shoulder to shoulder. "By the way, the yellow shorts really do look great, but what's in them is even better. The t-shirt's sexy too. Your nipples are almost as good as mine." Andrew laughed at Larry's expression.

"Almost as good?" Larry laughed. "How do you know that they aren't better than yours? I mean, you've never even seen 'em." Larry slowed, allowing Andrew to catch up. "Is that the way to talk to everyone, or only me?"

"Only you," Andrew glibly responded. The sun dipped behind a bank of distant clouds. The translucent orange and yellow glow of the sky silhouetted the distant palms, whose shadows reached out long fingers to the two runners. After a few moments, Andrew continued. "Actually. I have told other guys they look sexy. You're not the first. But that doesn't mean you're not gorgeous." The thread of their conversation was broken as they negotiated a street, still full of evening traffic.

"Gorgeous?" Larry asked, glancing at Andrew, reluctant to take his eyes off the jogging path for too long.

"Yeah, or handsome, hot, sexy, whichever you choose. You were great yesterday at dinner, in your slacks and tight shirt. Remember, I was hard all during dinner." Larry glanced over, playfully swatting at him. "Today, with less on, you're even better. Makes me wonder . . . "

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm just rambling. --- Say, we're going to have to take it slow today. It's been a while since I've gone on a run." Andrew was struggling, trying to hide his discomfort.

"Sure, you set the pace." The two men ran through the campus in silence. The orange sky and long shadows of the palms and eucalyptus trees continued to pass unnoticed. "I've not told you how great you look in your red shorts." Larry spoke without turning to look at his partner. "I'll have to agree with you, the nipples do look good, but I like how I can see your tan line as you run."

"I didn't think you'd notice," Andrew teased.

"You bet I notice. --- I'm not sure how to express myself yet, is all."

The two men left the main campus, skirted the basketball arena and the large hills where the football stadium nestled, then ran along the jogging path next to the river. At this time of day, the jogging trail was almost abandoned. The widely spaced lights illuminating the path had only just turned on, providing pools of light.

One moment Larry was along side Andrew, laughing at a joke. The next, he was rolling across the brick walkway, striking the ground with a loud "woof," his arms and legs flying. He came to rest on his back, shaking his head, stunned by the fall.

"Shit!" Andrew rushed back and squatted next to Larry. "Are you okay?" He held him down with a hand on his chest. "Wait a moment before you move. --- Do you hurt someplace?"

"Yeah, all over," Larry joked, laying his head back and closing his eyes. "Can you kiss it and make it better?"

"At least we know he still has his voice," Andrew teased. "Where does it hurt, really?"

"Who said I was teasing?" Larry groaned, attempting once again to sit up. "I hurt all over, like I said, but my right ankle is where it's the worst. I wasn't watching where I was going." Andrew moved to the ankle and touched it, noting the swelling. Larry flinched at the light touch. "This has never happened to me," he groused, struggling into a sitting position, propping himself up.

"I've run this course hundreds of times," Larry berated himself. "My mind was wandering, I guess." He looked down at his ankle, then at Andrew, who had begun to deftly massage his calf. "How's it look, doctor?"

Andrew smiled, digging his fingers into Larry's calf, noticing the sparse covering of hair. "Wrong kind of doctor," he joked. "If you had fallen on your head and didn't know which direction was up, I'd know what I was doing. As it is, I'm enjoying feeling-up your leg."

"Well, you're good at it." Larry looked up, startled by a thought. "I didn't fall on purpose, just to get you to touch me!"

Andrew looked at Larry, surprised at the outburst. "Is that what you're thinking I'm thinking?"

"I don't really know, but I didn't --- fall --- for, that, reason . . ." His voice trailed off.

Andrew resumed his massage, moving to Larry's thigh. "Do you want to be touched so bad that you would imagine I might think you fell on purpose?" Andrew's question coaxed a reluctant nod from Larry, barely a noticeable admission. "I guess I do." Larry muttered.

He looked up, struck by another disturbing thought. "Are you afraid of me, Andrew?"

Andrew paused, sitting back on his heels, puffing out a breath. "No, I'm not afraid of you, but I am afraid I might hurt you." He held up a hand to prevent Larry from speaking. "You're like a young person, anxious to experience everything, but not knowing how easily he can be hurt." He paused a moment, looking down at Larry, still propped up, in a sitting position. "Are you afraid of me?

Like Andrew, Larry released his breath slowly, giving him a moment to analyze his feelings. "I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of the entire situation I find myself in. One minute I want to be in bed, with you lying on top of me. The next minute, the same thought will make me break out in a cold sweat." He winced again, as he tried to move his ankle.

Andrew extended a hand to help him up. "Come on, handsome, lean on me, and let's see if you've suffered any other damage."

Larry struggled, but was finally able to stand, with help. He leaned on Andrew, who examined him for more injuries. "It looks as if you've only got a couple scratches. I'm surprised that's all that's wrong." He brushed the grit off of Larry's leg, but stopped at a sound.

"Did I hurt you?"

Larry shook his head, his eyes closed. "No. --- Go slower." He gripped the shoulder for support, keeping his right foot from touching the ground. "Your hands feel good. I don't want this to end too fast."

"Good reason to go slowly, then." Andrew ran a hand up the back of Larry's leg, continuing to brush away gravel and dirt that still clung to his skin. Unlike his earlier massage, his touch had become a caress. He noticed the flexing muscles as Larry rotated his foot, testing to see how much it hurt. Larry's skin was warm and exciting, with its sparse sprinkling of hair, so unlike his own. He ran his hand up Larry's uninjured thigh, then briefly cupped a cheek through the yellow nylon shorts, as he stood. He could feel the muscle flex as Larry sought to maintain his balance, surprised by the unexpected touch.

The two men stood at the edge of a pool of light. Larry took shallow breaths, stealing a glance at Andrew under his eyelashes, wondering what would happen next. Andrew seemed unsure of himself. He studied Larry, his tousled hair, the small leaf stuck to his cheek, still in place since his fall, and the slightly parted lips.

At a touch, the leaf fell. Andrew didn't remove his finger, but lightly brushed the length of Larry's jaw before he hesitated. He looked up to find Larry studying him, a smile barely curving up the corners of his mouth. In a moment, the smile faded. The two men barely breathed, looking into each other's eyes, Larry's blue, Andrew's pale brown. "Larry . . . "

The sound of approaching voices broke the trance. Andrew looked away, clearing his throat. Larry briefly closed his eyes, compressing his lips.

"Um, are you feeling better?"

There was a pause while Larry reviewed what had just happened. "I --- I think so. If I limp along for a couple minutes, I think I'll be able to walk. Let's go slow, though."

"That's what I'd like to do, Larry --- about the two of us," Andrew supplied, with seeming reluctance. He supported Larry, who gingerly tested how much weight his ankle would bear.

"What's that?"

"Go slowly. --- I've always moved too fast, only to find my relationship was over." He paused before continuing. "I'd like for that not to happen this time." He continued to struggle a moment, searching for the correct words. "You're too important to me. --- It would be too easy for me to hurt you." This time it was Larry who squeezed Andrew's shoulder, acknowledging his feelings.

Jeff could hear Phalen in his office, chattering to someone about his wonderful weekend. He'd been talking non-stop for a couple hours. 'I hope it's not to the same person.' Jeff sighed, scooting forward on the sofa, and leaning his head back, before closing his eyes.

"Jeff." A voice intruded into his dream of Northern Lights and the 'Pastoral Symphony.' He jerked awake.

"Mite!" -- He sat up, startled by the intrusion, glancing around the room. "Anteeksi, Phalen," he mumbled, lying back and closing his eyes.

"Jeff." Phalen said, this time louder. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk about something that's bothering me."

Jeff frowned, barely opening his eyes, wondering what could be important enough to interrupt a nap. "Phalen, you've worn me out this weekend," he groaned. "I can't possibly have sex again."

Phalen dismissed the thought of sex with a quick motion of a hand. "Who's Mite?"

"What?"

"Mite. What's it mean?"

"What." Jeff sat up, rubbing the back of his neck, owlishly blinking his eyes, trying to focus.

"I asked what mite means," Phalen asked becoming exasperated.

"It means what? --- Why?" Jeff yawned, still not quite awake.

"Which one, what or why?"

"Phalen, let's stop for a moment, okay?" He rubbed his temples, trying to sort out the conversation he was having.

"I was just asking a question."

"I know. The word mite, means what. Why do you ask?"

"When I called your name, you sorta shouted that word, then laid back and said, anteeksi, or something. What's that one mean?"

"I'm sorry. It means, I'm sorry." Jeff shook his head. "I feel as if I'm still dreaming. What are we talking about?"

"I need to talk to you about something that's bothering me, okay?"

"Sure," Jeff sat up straighter, patting the sofa seat, as an invitation to join him. Instead, Phalen sat on the coffee table, facing him. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, continuing to look serious. He didn't say anything, so Jeff waited, thankful for another moment to clear his foggy head.

Finally, Phalen looked up, speaking slowly, as if choosing each word. "You have just given me a better weekend than I could have imagined. But, I'm worried."

"About what?"

Phalen shrugged. "Everything is all so expensive. I don't really know the price of anything, except the food at those restaurants we ate at, but if that's a sample of the cost, everything else has to be really expensive. --- You don't have to do all this to impress me, you know. I already know you love me." He paused a few moments, then looked around the living room. "You're paying for the house, and all the furniture, and everything else. Don't spend your money on me."

Jeff leaned forward, taking Phalen's hands. "I'm not spending any money on you, Phalen. You have to understand that any money I've spent is on us. Jeff gripped Phalen's hands tighter. "C'mon, lover, tell me what's really bothering you."

"The money concerns me most. All of this concerns me." Phalen spread his arms wide, turning from side to side. "The house, furniture, honeymoon --- everything. You're not working. I'm not working. Where's the money coming from? Well, I know where mine's coming from --- Dad."

"Phalen, listen to me. There is no need to be concerned. Everything is already paid for, so don't worry about it." Phalen looked at him, incredulous.

"Jeff, are you rich or something?"

Jeff grinned, shaking his head, not looking up. "Are you okay with things, now? Any more questions or concerns?"

"No. I'm worrying about getting a job after graduation so I can pay for stuff at school, and my car and junk that I need. I've just got money on my mind, that's all. Dad's continued to give me an allowance; I guess you'd call it. But that's only going to last until I graduate. When I started high school he told me he didn't want me worrying about work while I was a student. He was worried about me getting a scholarship or something. I don't know."

"I don't want you to work while you're in school either." Jeff looked at him seriously. "I understand what Larry was thinking. --- Phalen, if you're worrying about the next paycheck, and fitting a job into your school schedule, something has got to suffer. And, you have baseball to contend with. Do you really think you can work, go to school, play baseball, and do your best at each one of those things?"

Phalen shrugged, not letting go of Jeff's hands, briefly noticing their knees touching. "I don't know. I've never done it. Everyone else works and gets along. I can too."

"Sure you can get along. But I want you to do more than that. I want you to have an opportunity to do your best, to learn everything you can, then get a killer job.

"Phalen, listen to me. "You've got a sports scholarship right?" Phalen nodded, not understanding where the conversation might be going. "And another scholarship that takes care of whatever school-stuff the sports one doesn't, right?" Again, Phalen nodded. "Okay, so I'll cover the rest. Consider it a graduation present, a wedding gift, a continuation of your allowance, it doesn't matter. Choose whatever name makes you happy. You're covered."

Jeff's smile grew wider as Phalen assimilated what he had said. "By the way close your mouth."

"But, Jeff."

"No buts, Phalen. I'm really serious about this. I want you to get the best education possible, so you can do whatever it is you want to do. My grandfather did it for me. I'm doing it for you. --- Who knows, maybe someday you will be able to help someone out." Jeff paused, grinning in recollection. "You know, my grandfather told me the same thing." I figured that someday I'd have an opportunity to help someone out." He grinned. "I just never thought it would happen so soon!"

"You're not joking about this are you, Jeff? --- Why?"

"Because I love you. I have the means to help you. You're a straight A high school student who's graduating at the top of your class, and I want you to be able to continue to excel when you're in college. I don't want you to have to worry about anything other than school work, and how many touchdowns you make."

"Touchdowns? --- That's football. I play baseball."

"Oops. What is it you make in baseball?" Jeff asked, chagrined at his error.

"Homeruns."

"Well, make lots of 'em. Be the best."

"But gas money, clothes, haircuts. There are all sorts of things."

"They're covered."

"You're kidding! Jeff, you can't do that! I'll feel like you're keeping me or something. I want us to be equals."

"We are equal, lover. I only want four things from you. The first one's easy." He looked at Phalen, who seemed bewildered. "Say, thanks. The next ones are more difficult." He paused until Phalen looked up, raising his eyebrows in query. "I want you to get good grades, play great baseball, and love me. --- Maybe not in that order."

"Thank you, Jeff. I don't know what to say. I'm totally overwhelmed."

"Now say, Jeff, I'm going to be a good boy, and I think you're sexy as hell. --- Go ahead, Phalen. I'm putting words in your mouth. That's a change, huh?" Suddenly, Jeff stopped joking, reaching up to touch Phalen's cheek. "Why the tears?"

Phalen sniffed, wiping his eyes. "I'm having one of those emotion-filled moments," he laughed, choking back a sob. "I break down from time-to-time, remember?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong! I've had a lot happen this weekend." --- Phalen began ticking things off on his fingers, listing what had happened to cause his tears. "First, the greatest man I've ever known, asks me to marry him, and proposes in front of a restaurant full of people who listen-in. Then he gives me a beautiful ring. After that we have dynamite sex for two full days. And we were only interrupted once! That deserves to be counted as something special. Then there were those wonderful meals, and the roses, dancing on the balcony, sneaking outside to swim nude in the pool, rides in a limo, being carried across the threshold --- twice. --- I'm running out of fingers, here. And now this. It's too much! I can't grasp it.

"Damn, I hate it when this kinda thing happens," he groused, sniffing and wiping his eyes. "I always feel as if I'm acting like a kid." He was quiet a moment longer.

"Touchdowns!" he shouted in indignation. --- "Touchdowns! I've gotta get you to a baseball game." He reached closer, playfully punching Jeff on the shoulder. "Touchdowns!"

Thian locked the front door, looking over his shoulder when he heard a car door slam. He stood by Kerin's side, watching their father trudge across the yard, looking like he was about to drop of exhaustion.

"Cool shorts, Dad," Kerin commented when Andrew came to a halt in front of him and his brother. "What have you got underneath?" Kerin extended a hand to see for himself, but had it slapped away.

"Keep your hands to yourself. I'm decent, and it's driving me crazy."

"I didn't know you jogged, Dad," Thian commented. "Why the sexy shorts?"

"I don't jog --- didn't --- I do now." Andrew took a deep breath and tried to straighten, wincing with the effort. "I'm having to run because I told him I had some sexy red running shorts." He paused a moment, thinking back on the conversation. "Who would have thought he would want me to run in them!" he almost wailed, before pointing a finger at Kerin. "I don't want to hear any smart ass comments from you, Kerin. --- "If he hadn't twisted an ankle I'd probably be on the ground someplace between here and campus, writhing in pain, or dead of a heart attack or something. Do you guys have any idea how difficult it is to not breathe hard --- especially when you feel as if you're about to pass out? I swear, the world was going dark. --- And no, it wasn't because the sun had set. So don't try to be cute, Kerin."

Kerin looked at his brother and shrugged. His father knew him too well, it seemed. Andrew continued groaning. "I tell you guys, things were going dark. The blood was leaving my brain or something, I don't know."

He turned to both of his sons, looking for a little sympathy. "Nah you guys wouldn't understand what I'm feeling." He tried to straighten, then groaned. "Shit, I hurt already. Why isn't someone hanging around when I need a massage?"

Andrew turned toward the house, dragging his feet and mumbling. "I think I'll go to my room now, and die in peace." He turned toward his sons. "By the way, my tombstone should read, 'The red shorts were to blame.'"

Andrew continued to mutter while searching for his house key. "Damn shorts don't have a fricking pocket. Where's a guy supposed to put his keys?" At last he succeeded in locating his keys, then promptly dropped them. He gave his sons a rude gesture when one of them whistled as he bent over to pick them up.

"Why'd I have to say I liked to jog," he groaned, attempting to insert the key into the hole. "I could have chosen checkers, croquet, feeding the birds --- but nooo. I had to say I like to jog. Damned big mouth. He paused a moment. Damned red shorts," he said louder. "They're to blame."

By now, both twins were laughing at their father's distress. "Your dick's not the only thing that gets you intro trouble then, huh Dad?" Kerin laughed, stepping up to his father and kissing him on the cheek, before walking back to his brother, who was waiting by the car, ready to leave.

Andrew pushed the front door open. "Yeah, Mr. Holier than thou. Kick me when I'm down." The door began to close, but not before they could hear the complaining continue.

"Damn athletes. There's a special place in Hell for athletes. I'm sure of it." The door silenced any further comments.

~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.

Mina rakastan sinua (I love you) Mita (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