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.
You are also welcome to read my newest story, 'Leith,' also located in Nifty's Gay College Section.
Roy roynm@mac.com
Phalen - Chapter 23
"Hey, Jerry." Curt leaned against the kitchen counter. During the past hour he had paced back and forth through the apartment he shared with Brad, psyching himself up to make this telephone call. It didn't help that he was exhausted. He had not slept well, worrying about what to say. He and Jerry had been seeing each other off and on for a few months. They had been lab partners in a project to set up a program for a health care company's quality control efforts, and had continued seeing one another after the project concluded . . . this time in bed.
Jerry was everything Brad was not, and that initially attracted him to the slightly built, blond with thick bangs and uncut cock. Jerry was also flighty where Brad was steady and serious. Jerry giggled and told stupid jokes that made Curt laugh because they were so outrageously dumb. They had had fun together, two opposites, the dark-haired, lithely athletic Curt compared with the blond, slender person who looked like a boy.
The trouble was, Jerry had begun to think of Curt as his partner. Brad was someone he had never met; a dull ugly guy who didn't love Curt and tried to stay away as much as possible. Curt had not consciously created this image; it was one Jerry had formulated for himself from tidbits Curt had said. Jerry didn't like Brad because, for some reason he could not understand, he had a hold on Curt's affections; a hold he knew he could never match. He didn't like competition from any of the guys he was interested in.
Each time Jerry became serious, Curt had let him know he considered their time together as fun, but it would never go beyond friendship. He would say, "I really like you, Jerry. You're fun to be around . . . and fun to fuck. But, I love Brad. He's also fun to be around and fun to fuck."
These thoughts flashed through Curt's mind as he dialed the number. He knew he was doing the right thing, breaking off his friendship with Jerry. 'I've been giving Brad too much grief already. I need to stop this before things get out of hand,' he thought, compressing his lips and steeling himself for the coming conversation. He had thought about just disappearing from Jerry's life without a word, but had determined that was the coward's way out.
"Hey, Jerry," he repeated. "I can't stay, but I need to see you this morning. You don't have a class do you?"
He had grown to hate the way Jerry almost purred when he spoke.
"Fine. I'm heading out the door, so I'll be there soon. Remember, I can't stay. I've got other things going today. I'm going to watch Brad give his final presentation at school. It's a big deal and I promised I'd be there to cheer him on." He paused, listening for a moment and then finally raised his voice to be heard over the complaints that had taken on a nasal quality he detested.
"Don't feed me that line, Jerry. We may not see each other as often as you would wish but I'm positive you've not spent a single night alone in the last year. I personally know of a half dozen guys who have kept you company. Each of them thinks they are the only guy you care about. I'm just another dick to you."
The volume of the complaints had increased, and now, to top it off, Jerry seemed to be crying. Curt leaned against the counter and rolled his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. 'Maybe it's better for me not to haul myself over there if he's already carrying on like this.' He held the telephone receiver away from his ear trying to think.
He came to a decision. "Jerry, listen. . . . No, you listen to me for once." He almost had to shout in order to be heard. Jerry refused to stop talking. "I can tell you're not feeling up to par today, so I'll skip coming over and just tell you what I was going to say over the phone." He heard Jerry sniff and blow his nose.
'What an actor,' he thought, waiting a moment until he had Jerry's undivided attention.
"I think it's best we don't see each other any longer." He plunged right into his message, speaking quickly before the histrionics began. "I've realized how my seeing you has hurt my relationship with Brad and I don't want that to continue. He means too much to me." He stopped speaking, holding the phone away from his ear. Jerry was screaming, making a seamless transition from tears to cursing. Curt had only seen him in this mood once. He knew there would be no reasoning with him.
'Damn,' he thought, reluctant to just hang up. 'I'm glad he doesn't know where I live. He'd probably take his act on the road . . . first stop Curt's home.'
"I'm sorry you feel that way," he managed to say when Jerry had either paused to take a breath or think of another name he could call Curt. "Maybe you should call up Frank or what's the other guy's name? The one on the swim team." The screaming increased. He knew he was only fueling the already blazing fire of Jerry's emotions, but at this point he didn't care. He finally sighed.
"Jerry, I don't care who you tell about the two of us. I really don't. Like I said earlier, I don't think you're at your best right now so I'd better go. Thanks, Jerry. I've had some good times." He was feeling malicious. Being called every name in Jerry's extensive vocabulary had done nothing to make him charitable. When it appeared Jerry was about to start up again, he broke in. "Maybe Frank, or what's his name will fuck you without a condom. I'm sure glad I never did. There's no telling how many hundred guys have parked their dick up your butt for an evening. You're fun Jerry, but if you don't change your ways you won't be entertaining your 'gentlemen callers' much longer." There was a shriek, just as he hung up the phone.
"Damn, I shouldn't have said some of those things,' he thought as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. 'But he doesn't own me.' He looked at the kitchen clock and realized he'd better hurry and shower and get dressed. Brad was coming back to pick him up before they headed to the presentation. He shook his head as he walked down the hallway, thinking back to the phone call.
'How'd I ever hook up with a jerk like that?' he wondered, letting the warm water ease his tense muscles. His thoughts drifted away from Jerry to Brad, his frown changing into a pleased smile. The more he thought about Brad the happier he became, eventually beginning to laugh in pleasure. 'I haven't felt this good in a long time,' he thought to himself.
'Damn, he looked sexy this morning in his sport coat and slacks.' He thought of the lingering kiss Brad had given him. The way Brad said, "I love you," made him feel warm all over. "The dark circles were almost gone from under his eyes and his smile was back . . . finally. Curt grimaced, shamed at the part he had played in making Brad's life miserable.
'The guy stuck with me even when I was being an ass,' Curt thought. He paused as he dried his hair, the towel still surrounding his head. 'I never realized how much I loved him until I'd really hurt him.' He shook his head. 'I'll have to make it up to him somehow.' He leaned against the bathroom vanity lost in thought.
The doorbell rang. He looked at the clock, surprised Brad was ringing the bell. 'Maybe he lost his keys.' He quickly wrapped the towel around his waist and trotted toward the living room. 'Geez, I hope he's okay,' he thought. 'I won't tease him,' he thought as he reached for the doorknob. 'He'll be embarrassed enough as it is.' He turned the knob.
"Jerry!" His voice squeaked upward. He clutched the towel and tried to push the door shut but he wasn't fast enough. Jerry took advantage of his surprise and pushed the door open with all his strength and blazed into the apartment, wearing a pair of tight fluorescent green nylon shorts and an orange tank top that was one size too small, accentuating how thin he actually was.
"Not expecting me, were you?" He purred as he pushed the door shut and rounded on Curt.
'I never realized how nasal his voice is,' Curt thought, not sure if he was more surprised or amused at what was going on.
"So my butt hole is a fucking garage is it? He continued, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and pushing them down. His half-hard cock sprang free.
'You've certainly parked your dick up there often enough and didn't find it lacking." Jerry sneered, "I always hated how you always brought your own condoms. Don't like sliding in on someone else's cum, I guess." He stepped out of his shorts and pried both shoes off. "You think you're better than everyone else?" He tossed his shirt across the room and advanced on Curt, a malicious gleam in his eyes.
Curt retreated one step, then two, grasping his towel. Jerry's erection was at full staff. 'He always did get off on making a scene,' he thought as Jerry took another step forward.
Three steps backward. He felt the arm of a chair behind him. He could go no further. Jerry's smile broadened. He was covered with a fine sheen of sweat. His eyes flashed just before his arm shot out and pushed Curt backward over the arm of the chair. Curt yelped and reached out to break his fall, losing his grip on the towel.
"Ah ha!" Jerry shouted, reaching down and grabbing the wet towel and flinging it away.
"You don't have your precious condoms now," Mr. Holier-than-thou," Jerry purred, stepping closer to Curt who sprawled on the floor, dazed from the fall. He tried to move further away, his head spinning from having hit the corner of a table as he fell.
Abruptly, jerry dropped to his hands and knees and turned his back to Curt. Curt saw his opportunity and scrambled to his knees, hoping to get away. He reached out blindly for something to hold on to, his hand coming away empty. At the same time, Jerry kicked at his legs. He shouted and fell on top of Jerry, who promptly collapsed under the unexpected weight.
"Fuck me!" Jerry shouted at the top of his lungs. Curt was seeing stars. The blow to the head was killing him. He groaned and tried to roll away. In a moment of silence he heard the apartment door open and time stopped as Jerry completed his command with the final word . . . "harder." The word hung in the air, seeming to echo in Curt's addled mind. He blinked into the bright light of the doorway and saw Brad standing with one hand on the doorknob, the color draining from his face.
"Hi." Jerry looked up, smiling, his bangs falling across his forehead. "Are you one of Curt's fuck buddies? Want to join us? There's always room for one more, huh Curt?"
Neither Brad nor Curt moved. Curt was finally able to get first to his knees, and finally stand, shaking his head.
"I fell," he mumbled, leaning back against the wall, reaching up to feel his head where it had hit the table. For some reason his eyes would not focus. He blinked into the bright light. Jerry's voice came to him from the floor. He looked down, not sure what was going on.
"Aren't you gonna finish fucking me? You always said I was so much better than that guy you're living with." Curt finally realized what was happening and looked down at the smiling man on the floor with loathing. In one move, he reached down and grabbed Jerry's arm, dragging the surprised man to his feet. Still, the man would not take a hint.
"But Curt, you said your roomie wouldn't be home for hours. Aren't we gonna play?" Curt pulled him around to face him with such force Jerry lost his balance and fell to his knees with a thud. Curt jerked him upward and twisted his arm behind his back, ignoring the grunt of pain he was inflicting. Without saying a word, he picked up Jerry's shirt and shoes. He strong-armed Jerry to the door where Brad stood, following every action.
"Move," Curt ordered. Brad blinked and stepped aside. "I'm throwing out the trash!" Curt yelled some sort of primal scream and pushed Jerry, naked, onto the balcony. He caught himself on the railing, slipping to his knees, stunned with the force of hitting the metal rail. After a moment he hoisted himself to his feet, looking from side to side.
"I'm sorry I ever had the misfortune to meet you . . . slut! You just better be glad I didn't throw you over the railing." Curt yelled as loud as his voice would allow. He balled up Jerry's clothes and tossed them past the naked man on the balcony. First the shirt, next the shoes, one by one, and lastly the car keys and wallet, which fluttered open spreading its contents on the breeze. He looked at the shorts still balled up in his fist and threw them across the living room rather than outside.
"I hope you rot in HELL! The two of us have just ruined my life!" Curt slammed the door on Jerry's surprised expression. He stood a moment with his back against the door, breathing heavily and shaking his head from side to side in disbelief. Finally, he slid down the door into a squatting position and then sat on the floor. He covered his face and began to sob. Great wracking waves washed over his body.
Brad sat on the coffee table and watched the man he loved. He was numb. He wanted to reach out, to comfort Curt, but he dared not.
"You're sorry, I imagine?" he asked in a conversational tone. Curt looked up with tears streaming down his face. It was the first time he had ever seen Curt cry.
"Yes," he hiccoughed. "For what I've done in the . . . past." He stopped to take a halting breath and wiped his eyes. "What you saw today was not what it seems." He hiccoughed again.
"It never is . . . when you're caught, is it? Curt bit his lips and wiped his eyes.
"You know, that I've loved you more than I can even put into words?" Curt hiccoughed and nodded once again. "And that you've about killed me, because of what I thought you had been doing?" Curt sniffed and wiped his eyes, nodding in answer to Brad's question.
"Curt," Brad spoke with infinite sadness. "You know what I have to do now, don't you?"
Curt looked up, silently pleading. He finally lowered his eyes. His lip was trembling and his hands were opening and closing, as if trying to hold onto his partner. He swallowed convulsively and then nodded before he bowed his head and began to silently cry, his tears falling onto his bare chest and then running downward.
Brad watched him in silence for a few minutes before he turned to take a look at the kitchen clock. He stood and straightened his tie and stepped toward the door.
Once again he looked at the man on the floor in front of him. He slowly squatted and lovingly ran his fingers through Curt's hair.
"I'll always love you, Curt. Nothing will ever happen to make me stop." He rested his hand on Curt's bare shoulder and squeezed once, feeling the firm muscles. "In fact . . . I love you more today than ever." He stood and opened the apartment door, taking one last look at the sobbing man in a fetal position lying on the carpet.
"Good bye, Curt." The door slowly closed, the latch falling into place with a click.
~ 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.
Sisu (SEE-sue) Mina rakastan sinua (I love you) Mita (what) Anteeksi (I'm sorry)
I would like to thank Carey for his ceaseless efforts to make me a better writer, Gwynne for her daily doses of humor and her insights into the characters, and Larry in Finland for helping me with the Finnish language and for being a good friend. Writing may be a solitary endeavor but the thoughts of each of these people, as well as you, the story's readers, affect the story's course.
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