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 12
Dinner was going badly. Larry had been subdued since he picked Andrew up at work, and his mood hadn't improved. He would participate in a conversation, but seemed preoccupied, almost totally ignoring his meal. The dimly lit restaurant hid the shadowed eyes, but not the general feeling of despondency Larry seemed to be experiencing. Throughout dinner, Andrew tried to draw him out, with little luck, finally finishing his own meal in silence, glancing at Larry from time to time.
The waiter gave Andrew a puzzled look when he removed Larry's untouched dinner plate. Andrew briefly shook his head, silently asking the waiter not to inquire if there was a problem. The waiter took the hint, clearing the table in silence.
Finally, the waiter brought the check. Andrew smiled his thanks, signing the bill, then turned back to Larry, who had been oblivious to what was going on around him.
"Larry," Andrew said, reaching across the table to touch one of Larry's hands, resting on the white tablecloth. Larry looked first at Andrew's hand, then up to his face, but made no response. "Something's happening. What's going on? You're not yourself tonight."
"Lots of stuff is happening. --- Too much for me to get a grip on." Larry took a ragged breath, leaning back in his chair and slightly shaking his head. "I feel as if I'm being swept down a river with no control of what's happening to me. I'm just bouncing from one rock to the next. My son would say that I'm so out of it that I don't even know what game I'm playing."
"Since we can't talk about everything at once, pick the first problem that comes into your mind and let's talk."
Larry looked skeptical, but nodded, taking a deep breath before plunging on. "I told my son's partner I'm in love with him." Andrew raised his eyebrows, but quickly schooled his expression, hoping Larry hadn't seen his surprise. Larry leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "I have been for months, actually since the day I met him." He began absently running a finger from side to side across the table cloth. "I guess I thought if I told him how I felt, it would make me feel better." Larry began toying with a saltshaker, contemplating what to say next. "It hasn't." He sighed once again. "I don't know what I expected to happen. He's committed to my son, and that's the way I want it. They're perfect together, but now I feel as if I made a fool of myself, and he probably thinks I'm crazy."
"Did he do something to make you believe that's what he thinks?"
Larry shook his bowed head. "No, nothing. He was wonderful about it. It's not as if he . . ."
Andrew interrupted. "It sounds as if you think you deserve to feel bad?"
Larry shrugged. "I don't know." He suddenly looked up with an intensity Andrew hadn't seen all night. "Andrew, tell me the truth. Is something wrong with me?"
"What?" Andrew moderated his voice after a few other diners looked up, wondering what was happening. "Of course not!"
"I don't know how things are supposed to work if one's gay, and I'm probably going to feel a fool again, but the other day you told me how great I am. In fact, you're always calling me handsome. Well, I sort of expected --- hoped actually, that you would at least touch me --- once." He trailed off, continuing to watch Andrew, waiting for a response. "Isn't that the way it works? --- Am I being stupid? Is something wrong with me?"
Andrew held up a hand to prevent Larry from continuing to berate himself. "Wait a moment. Has this been what's really bothering you?"
Larry nodded. "This and the other thing --- with my son's partner." He bowed his head, but continued talking, unwilling to meet Andrew's eyes. "I guess --- I guess I don't have a very high opinion of myself. . . "
Andrew leaned forward, trying to keep Larry's attention. "Let's discuss you and me for a moment, okay?"
Larry nodded but continued to watch his fingers draw patterns on the tablecloth.
Andrew spoke deliberately, anxious that Larry not miss a single word. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Believe me, Larry, it's true. --- You wanted me to touch you?" Larry nodded, his head still bowed.
"Look at me, Larry."
Reluctantly, Larry looked up to meet Andrew's eyes. "I've wanted to touch you," Andrew spoke for Larry's ears alone. "Every time I see your dimples when you grin, or smell you, or see you walking . . . " He paused a moment. Larry had not reacted. Andrew was convinced Larry wasn't going to believe him. He rested his forearms on the table, leaning forward, trying to convey sincerity with proximity. "Hell handsome, I get excited being in the same room with you.
"Remember the day you called and asked me to go to dinner to celebrate your divorce?" Larry nodded, maintaining eye contact. Andrew took that as a sign he might be getting through. "My sons told me not to take advantage of you. They said they thought you were too vulnerable because of your divorce. They told me this because I have been known to move pretty fast at times." Andrew gave a rueful grin. "It's not like me to follow their advice, but I did, and it appears I hurt you. If that's the case, I'm truly sorry."
"I guess I am vulnerable," Larry said, slowly, returning his attention to the saltshaker. "Your sons were right." He thought a moment more, continuing to turn the saltshaker. "But I'm also --- lonely. I want to be touched." He thought a moment, no longer moving the saltshaker. "I need be touched --- and held." Andrew watched in silence as Larry struggled to put his feelings into words. "It's like I'm a child who needs to be held and told everything will be all right." --- He looked up suddenly, his eyes wide. "My smell! Do I smell?"--- Larry noticed Andrew's grin. "Is that a good thing --- to smell?" Andrew's grin grew into a smile. He motioned for Larry to continue, pleased with Larry's reaction to his comment. Larry continued, still unsure what Andrew's smile meant. "The other day - when - we were jogging, I thought maybe the only way I could get you to pay attention to me would be for me to drop my shorts and wag my dick at you."
"That would have worked, I assure you." Andrew laughed. --- "Is that why you were so insistent you had not fallen on purpose, just to get me to touch you?"
Larry nodded, once again concentrating on the saltshaker. "Why go slowly with me?" he asked. "Is it just because you think I'm vulnerable?"
"That's some of it, but also because I like you and want you as a friend before a sex partner. --- Larry, I've told you before, I tend to use guys then, lose them. You're too good for that. I really want to have sex with you, but if doing so means I'll eventually lose you as a friend, then I'll masturbate instead. Believe me, handsome, there's nothing wrong with you." Andrew looked around at the dwindling number of diners. "Let's go. I've got something else to say."
Jeff grinned, listening to Brad and Phalen laughing outside. Brad was much like Kerin, a person who liked to laugh and make others laugh with him. 'He seems so carefree,' Jeff thought, grabbing a beer from the refrigerator for Brad and a soft drink for him and Phalen. 'Carefree that is, until his partner Curt is mentioned.' Until recently every time Brad spoke of Curt, his eyes would shine and he would display one of his impish smiles, slightly tilting his head slightly to the side. 'Brad's a nice looking guy,' Jeff thought, passing him his drink, 'but when he smiles, his face is transformed into something wonderful.' Phalen took Jeff's hand when he was handed his drink, pulling him down so they could sit together on the chaise. Phalen smiled as Jeff put an arm around his shoulders, snuggling closer.
'Yep, I am definitely a sucker for a great smile,' Jeff mused as Brad continued telling a story about his Spring Break trip to Mexico. Jeff enjoyed watching the expressive face and expansive gestures that accompanied the story. Brad loved an audience. Phalen was entranced. Until today, Jeff had only witnessed Brad's skill during presentations when he had the jury in the palm of his hand, making them laugh as easily as he was Phalen.
Jeff was amazed at how easily Brad accepted being nude. Even Kerin and Thian had been more reticent. Without a thought, Brad stripped out of his clothes, neatly placing them over the back of a dining chair, much to Phalen's vocal approval and encouragement that Jeff should take some lessons.
Brad wasn't much of a swimmer though, preferring to sit and enjoy watching others splash while he sat in the sun, "trying to eliminate his tan line," he explained. "The bath tub is as large a body of water as I'm comfortable with. I did some track in high school and some baseball but never really got into swimming." At the mention of baseball, Phalen's eyes lit up, and the two began telling baseball stories.
Jeff watched Brad become even more animated as he described one of his all star baseball plays. Phalen's eyes were shining with enjoyment. Brad was a lean man; each muscle was defined without being overly developed. Like Phalen, he had a smooth chest, small nipples, and a lightly defined washboard stomach that ended in a trimmed black pubic bush. He had sat his beer on a table and was now standing, no longer able to tell his story while sitting down. With each movement his cock would swing above his tight balls, and the muscles of his lightly haired legs would ripple.
The story had come to its conclusion. Brad was laughing, abandoning himself to Phalen's applause. "Of course, the pitch becomes more difficult to hit each time I tell that story," he continued laughing, before taking a long drink of his beer. Brad seemed to bask in Phalen's laughter.
"You mean you didn't hit a bases-loaded home run?" Phalen asked, leaning back against Jeff and rubbing a hand absently up and down his leg.
"That's an idea!" Brad sat down and leaned back, his feet resting on either side of his chaise. "I'll include a homerun the next time I tell the story."
"You mean your story wasn't true?" Jeff asked, looking first at one man, then the other. They both turned to him, surprised he had asked, then both men burst out laughing.
"It's like the fish tale, Jeff," Brad explained, still chuckling. "It gets bigger with each telling."
"Why would someone tell a story about a fish tail?" Brad lay back on the chaise, throwing up his arms and howled with laughter. Phalen grinned, turning to Jeff and spelled the type of tale Brad had been talking about. Jeff responded with a silent "Oh."
"You have to forgive him, Brad," Phalen said, turning to Brad. "Jeff never heard a joke until he met me. They don't tell 'em where he comes from."
"I'm sure they do," Jeff quickly responded. "I just don't recognize one when I hear it. I take everything at face value. --- Remember, you guys grew up in an entirely different culture than I did."
"I know. And I apologize," Brad said, wiping his eyes. "We're not laughing at you. Once I start laughing, I sometimes can't seem to stop. --- I told you I grew up in bedlam."
"Bedlam?" Jeff mouthed the word to Phalen, not understanding the allusion. Brad tried not to laugh as Phalen smiled and patted Jeff's knee, promising an explanation later.
"I'm hungry," Phalen said suddenly. "It's getting dark and we haven't eaten. You're staying, aren't you, Brad? You're invited. Besides, Jeff and I enjoy seeing you naked, huh Jeff?" When Jeff didn't say anything, Phalen stage whispered," He thinks you're sexy, too, only he's too shy to say so."
"Thanks, Phalen. I'm thinking the same about you both. Now, let's see if we can help Jeff. It looks as if he's the cook in the family."
Brad wrapped an arm around Phalen's shoulder, and together they walked inside.
Larry and Andrew left the restaurant, Andrew holding the door for Larry, who smiled his thanks as he passed. The two men walked silently, side-by-side through rows of cars, dimly lit by a nearby streetlight and the occasional passing car. Andrew noticed the gentle breeze ruffle Larry's hair, carrying with it the heady scent of a night-blossoming plant and the promise of a spring thunderstorm.
Andrew reached out and rubbed Larry's shoulders, lingering a moment to run his fingers through the hair at the nape of Larry's neck before pulling him close, keeping an arm around his shoulders.
Larry's limp had noticeably improved, but he still favored his injured ankle. He remained silent, walking close to Andrew, enjoying being held in a firm grip.
"Does my holding you outside like this bother you?" Andrew asked, turning to Larry, who shook his head.
"No, I like it." He paused a moment. "A lot. --- It's nice." Larry snuggled closer, reaching up and placing his hand over the one Andrew rested on his shoulder, causing Andrew to smile.
As they approached the car, Andrew walked with Larry to the driver's side of the car, deep in a street-light shadow cast by a nearby tree. Larry turned to look at Andrew, raising his eyebrows in silent inquiry. Andrew gently backed Larry against the side of the car, standing close, watching Larry's expression, wary at first, become questioning. He placed a hand against Larry's chest, pressing his palm against the tight shirt. He could feel Larry's body heat and rapid heart beat beneath the fabric. Larry remained silent, briefly glancing down at the hand touching his chest, before he once again watched Andrew with sad eyes, his lips slightly parted.
"Larry, I told you that you were vulnerable because you had just come out of a marriage. When you asked me a few minutes ago if there was something wrong with you, and if that's why I haven't touched you, I realized I should have done things differently." Larry's eyes glistened in what little light there was. He nervously licked his lips once but remained silent.
"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, handsome," Andrew continued, moving his open palm across Larry's chest, to rest over a firm nipple. "Believe me, Larry, nothing at all is wrong." Andrew moved closer, then reached up to gently touch Larry's cheek with one finger. Larry choked back a sob but remained silent as Andrew began to slowly run his fingers through his hair.
Larry closed his eyes and whimpered at the touch, taking ragged breaths.
"Do you think you're too vulnerable to be touched, Larry?" Andrew asked for Larry's ears alone. Larry barely shook his head. He had regained control of his breathing but was unwilling to trust his voice. "I've wanted to touch you, you know. It's about killed me that I haven't." Andrew's hand slowly caressed Larry's cheek, then tilted his chin up. Larry watched Andrew, no longer wary.
"Would you like me to touch you?" Larry barely nodded.
Andrew slowly leaned forward and gently touched his lips to Larry's, then moved closer still, their chests touching. His arms circled Larry's waist, holding him tightly. Already stiff himself, Andrew could feel Larry's penis begin to stir beneath his slacks. Andrew's mouth parted, his tongue seeking entrance to Larry's.
Larry groaned, putting his arms around Andrew's shoulders. He opened his mouth and welcomed Andrew's tongue in a gentle, lingering kiss, leaning into Andrew, welcoming his warmth and his strength. Andrew finally broke the kiss, surprised at the passion Larry had demonstrated. Larry opened his eyes and whispered, "Wow!" Andrew grinned, and winked when Larry shyly looked at him, his eyes no longer shadowed and sad.
"The other night, when I fell jogging," Larry spoke, just above a whisper. "I asked you to kiss it to make it better. I truly had no idea of how much better one kiss would make me feel." He paused a moment, not removing his arms from around Andrew's shoulders.
When he spoke again, it was if he had had a revelation. --- "There really isn't anything wrong with me --- is there?" Andrew shook his head. "I'm good enough that --- someday --- someone will love me." Larry's eyes were beginning to glisten.
"Of course you're good enough, handsome. You always have been."
"Oh, I --- I didn't know --- I thought . . . "
"Shh, Larry. You think too much, you know that?"
Larry grinned. "I'm thinking right now that I'd like to kiss you again." He smiled, drawing Andrew to him, their tongues touching before their lips. Like the earlier kiss, this one was slow and gentle, and neither wanted it to end. Andrew ran the palms of his hands over Larry's back, feeling the muscles shifting, tensing and relaxing. Eventually Larry backed up, his breathing rapid, his mouth still slightly open.
"I could easily learn to love kissing," Larry admitted shyly, running his fingers through Andrew's hair, touching it almost reverently.
"You mean, you never. . . "
"Oh yes, a few times, but I would bet no more than a dozen --- in all those years of marriage. --- They were nothing like what we just did. This is so different." Larry paused a moment, still running fingers of one hand through Andrew's hair. "You're so --- thorough and gentle.
"I can be rough --- or tender." Andrew continued to hold Larry close. "I thought you would prefer tender." Larry nodded.
"Tonight, I do." Larry rested his head on Andrew's shoulder. "Tonight, I need tender."
"I still want to move forward slowly," Andrew continued, rubbing Larry's back. "But I don't want you imagining there's something wrong with you. There's not." Larry looked at Andrew and grinned while he continued speaking. "You're handsome, kind, intelligent, and loving. You'll make someone a wonderful lover." Andrew watched Larry as he spoke, ignoring the single tear that created a glistening trail over Larry's cheek. "Believe me Larry, you've endured a lot over the years. Now you deserve only the best."
Brad stepped out of the car and closed the door, waving to Jeff and Phalen as they drove off.
'Home sweet home,' he thought, looking at the large apartment complex. 'I wish.' Brad had lived in the complex with his partner Curt since starting school four years ago. The two men met in high school and had fallen instantly in love, to Brad's parents' chagrin. They weren't disturbed because Brad was gay; all four of his brothers were too. They were displeased because he had chosen to have a relationship with Curt.
After introducing Curt to his parents, Brad had driven him home. Later that evening, Brad had been in his room studying, thinking Curt's introduction had gone well. He remembered the light knock on the door. He was surprised because he thought everyone else was asleep. Brad opened the door to see his mother, her hand poised, ready to knock again.
As he approached his apartment, he thought back to that conversation, how the woman who should have been a stand up comedian, perched uneasily on the edge of his bed and told him how much she loved him, saying that's why she had to tell him something he probably wasn't going to want to hear. She waited to see if he would respond.
Brad slowly climbed the steps to his and Curt's second floor apartment, then paused to lean on the railing and watch the city lights.
Brad told his mother to go ahead and say whatever it was that was so important. She sighed, eventually saying, "Brad, honey, I don't know what it is, but your father, and your older brother and I all felt it." She paused. "Your friend Curt is trouble." She had held up a hand to prevent any comment. "I know, I've got nothing to base that belief upon. If it had been just me feeling that way, I wouldn't be in here right now, but it isn't. While you were driving him home, your brother told me he hoped you weren't serious about Curt. He said he just didn't feel good about him. Your father said the same thing when we were getting ready for bed."
He had interrupted. "Mom . . . ," he'd said, dragging out the word.
"I know, Brad. I would have thought the same thing you're thinking right now if my mother had said something like this to me after I introduced her to your father. --- She didn't, thankfully. I'm not advising you to do anything other than to be careful and keep your eyes and ears open." She smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "I've got five wonderful sons who have grown into fine young men. I'd hate to see one of them hurt. Their happiness is pretty important to me." She cleared her throat, stood up and held out her arms for a hug, telling him once again how much he meant to her and his father.
She had never mentioned the conversation again and had welcomed Curt to the family, treating him no differently than his brothers' partners or boyfriends.
Brad continued to lean on the railing. 'Why did that memory surface tonight?' he wondered, noticing Curt pull into the parking lot below.
Brad grinned, watching Curt haul his stuff out of the car's trunk, then turn toward the stairway. For as long as he could remember Curt had excited him. Lately though, something was different. It seemed as if Curt was becoming more distant. Where he was once affectionate and gentle, he could now be cold and rough. Their sex was still exciting, but during the past few months the gulf between them seemed to be widening. It was strange how his mother's words had come back to him tonight. He could still hear how difficult they had been for her to say. He remembered her taking a deep breath, then telling him, "Curt is trouble."
~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