This story is entirely fictional, and any resemblances to actual persons are completely coincidental. Actual locations are mentioned, and are used for 'background' only.
'Phalen - Finding Happiness' Chapter seven
by Roy Reinikainen
"You really do look great," Curt said, turning to Greg as he started the car's engine. Greg folded himself into the seat of the flashy sports car feeling almost as flashy as the car. Phalen had assured him the clothes were perfect. Jeff had nodded his agreement, and now Curt had complimented him.
'So,' he thought to himself, 'they must be right.' He remembered grimacing when Phalen pulled the clothes from Jeff's closet. "Green pants?" Phalen had given him a strange look and then looked back at the pants.
"They're more grey than green. Just wait. You'll like 'em in a minute." Without another word he thrust the slacks toward Greg and turned to look for a shirt. Jeff snickered from his position, leaning against the bedroom doorframe, ignoring Greg's brief appeal for help.
"He dresses me too."
A voice came from the closet. "I also undress him!"
"Doesn't take much," Greg groused good-naturedly. "With as little as he wears, he can be stripped naked in a flash."
"Ah," Phalen shouted, turning around with a shirt in hand. "Go ahead, put the pants on. No telling if Curt might be early or something and you wanna be ready for your date." Phalen wiggled his eyebrows and smiled brightly. Greg sighed knowing when to surrender, and stripped out of his clothes.
"Wait!" Phalen shouted holding out a commanding hand, turning to the dresser and rummaging around in the top drawer. He tossed something in Greg's direction. "Underwear too. We've gotta get you a new wardrobe. No one here wears underwear like that except maybe my great-grandfather." Another shrug from Jeff.
"Uh . . ." Greg tried not to blush as he turned his back to his brother and Phalen and stepped out of the baggy flannel boxers, all the while feeling daring. Phalen caught Jeff watching his brother and smiled brightly. Greg's skin, like his brother's was naturally pale which made the dark hair of his legs appear even darker. His perfectly smooth white buttocks flexed as he shifted weight from one foot to the other.
He held the . . . brief . . . garment in front of him, wondering which end was up. He looked over his shoulder and gave Phalen a disbelieving expression. "Are you sure?" Phalen nodded, trying to suppress a smile. "At least . . . it's . . . white," Greg muttered as he slipped into the skin tight garment and arranged himself in the pouch. "I feel naked," he complained, looking over his shoulder and examining his bare backside in the mirror. "I practically am!"
"They're made like that so your butt can breathe," Phalen chuckled. "You look just like Jeff in them.
Greg stood from having put on his socks. "Phalen, I hate to break it to you, but one of the first things I learned in medical school, is that people do not breathe through their butt." Phalen handed him the slacks accompanied by an impatient shake and made a motion to hurry up and get dressed.
He swatted Greg's butt, causing him to jump. "Smart ass."
In only a few moments he would not have recognized himself. Phalen had been correct. Once he slipped the white sweater over the admittedly dark green shirt, the pants didn't look so green. He admired himself in the mirror a moment and then turned to his brother. "You have good taste." Jeff smiled and shook his head, gesturing toward Phalen. "Underwear too?" Jeff nodded.
"Whenever I wear any." Phalen laughed and Jeff smiled. Greg hoped he had no occasion to have an erection. The pouch would certainly not be sufficient to keep him . . . contained, any more than it would Jeff. He flexed the muscles of his butt and smiled.
"The pants feel good against the bare skin," he murmured to Phalen as they headed out to the patio to wait for Curt's arrival.
The car's engine started and he realized Curt was waiting for an answer to his compliment. "Yeah, well. Everything I'm wearing belongs to Jeff. My clothes were not intended for Arizona weather, or to hear Phalen's opinion, anyone under eighty years of age. How does everyone stand the heat? I mean, Jeff tells me it gets hotter than this." He glanced over at Curt, thinking how much he liked the man's rosy cheeks and bright eyes. Every time he spoke it was like experiencing a caress. Curt's infrequent laughs made Greg smile with delight, wondering what he might do to hear the sound again. The more he thought about how wonderful Curt seemed, the more he felt the usual sense of hopelessness begin to creep over him. He was interrupted by a laugh.
"You'll become accustomed to the heat. You'll also start wearing as few clothes as possible."
Greg relaxed back into the leather seats. "That should suit Jeff. Mother always had a tough time keeping him dressed. Even when he was a kid, she'd leave the room and he'd strip-off, giving her a big unabashed grin whenever she'd return. When he was a child it didn't bother her as much as when he started . . . developing." Curt threw his head back and laughed.
'Oh . . . do that again!' "He got it from our father. That man will strip at the slightest provocation. It annoys the hell out of our mother."
Curt was captivated by the accent which tended soften the English language, as well as Greg's deadpan description of his family's struggles with nudity. "Where do you stand in this family of aspiring nudists?"
"Somewhere between Jeff and Mother, I'd guess. Probably closer to Mother, though I don't have any philosophical objections to being naked around lots of people, I just have never felt comfortable."
"I've never had an opportunity," Curt said. "So, I don't know how I'd handle things. I think I'd always be worrying that I'd get hard and embarrass myself."
"That small, huh?" Curt quickly turned to him, only to begin laughing when he realized he was being teased.
'I did it,' was his immediate thought. 'He's laughing.'
"Has anyone ever told you what a wonderful laugh you've got?" Curt grinned and turned to him with a slight shrug.
"No. You're the first."
He eased the car to an unsteady pause at a traffic light. It rumbled beneath them, ready to be on its way. Curt turned to him. "I thought you were supposed to be . . . 'intense.' Isn't that what you called it? I hate to break it to you Greg, but you're not what I expected." Greg gave him a questioning look. "You're more laid back than I thought you might be. Certainly more relaxed than Jeff."
"Do you know Jeff very well? Somehow, I thought you were more of a friend to Phalen."
"You're right. I don't know him well. He's closer to Brad. I only know him through Brad. I actually met both Phalen and Jeff at the same time. Phalen's easier for me to talk to. I always feel as if Jeff is judging me because of what I did to Brad. You know?" Greg nodded in understanding.
Greg stepped into the silence. "You're right about one thing. Phalen is easy to talk to, but I do know that Jeff is not your enemy, even if he is close to Brad." Curt swallowed and nodded his head in mute acceptance. The mood had suddenly become uncomfortable, on the verge of becoming melancholy.
"So," Greg said, clapping his hands once in an attempt to divert Curt's attention. "You did mention food didn't you? Where are we going to eat? As Phalen would say, I'm starved." Curt turned to him and smiled. It was difficult not to notice the moisture in his eyes. He cleared his throat as the traffic light changed, and the car once again was king of the road.
"We're going to a great Italian restaurant on the lake. It's a beautiful night, and I've been promised the very best table. I went to school with the person who runs the place." The conversation lapsed into an easy silence. They passed through downtown Tempe and then turned into a compact parking lot, dotted with heavily laden lemon trees. The restaurant was an attempt to replicate a Tuscan villa . . . a low-slung, structure with a clay tile roof, many columns, and newly acquired, artistically-pealing, patina. As expected, Curt was welcomed by the manager with a genuinely exuberant Italian hug, and accent. Curt introduced Greg, and they were shown to a table close to the water and an outdoor fireplace complete with aromatic fire.
"What a wonderful spot." Greg looked around, tracing the source of the heavenly scent to the blossoms dotting the nearby potted lime trees. The strings of lights draping over the diners' heads and soft music created the impression of dining in an intimate square in an Italian lake town. The gentle breeze caused the strings of lights to sway slightly, casting moving shadows over the diners. He looked across the table and saw Curt studying him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"I'm glad you like it." He seemed about to say something more, and then stopped.
"I live over there," He pointed to one of the taller buildings on the opposite shore of the lake. "I can see this place from my balcony. It always looks so pleasant. On an especially quiet night, I can sit on my balcony and hear the sound of the mandolin. I thought you might enjoy it."
"If the food's half as good as the setting . . . and the company, I'm sure to." Curt smiled, and then suddenly blinked his eyes and began studying the menu.
"I'm making dinner tonight," Phalen announced as he and Jeff walked back to the kitchen, leaving any problems caused by Curt's and Greg's date to be solved . . . in the future.
"Oh," Jeff said, after a momentary pause.
"Yeah, it's your birthday dinner. Phalen stripped off his shirt and running shorts, folding them and setting them on the kitchen island countertop.
"Do you normally cook in the nude?" Phalen looked at him strangely.
"I don't know. I've never cooked anything before." Realization suddenly dawned on him. "Oh, I see what you mean. I'll make sure not to scorch myself." He turned toward the kitchen, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
"What are we having?" Phalen's answer was interrupted by the sound of Jeff's telephone ringing. He trotted to his office and picked up the handset.
"Mother!" He was pleased to hear his mother's voice, giving him birthday wishes. "How wonderful!" He sat on his office chair and leaned back putting his feet up on his desk and idly swinging from side to side as he visited with first his mother and then his father.
"Yes, he's doing fine. In fact, he's out on a date right now. They just left a few moments ago." He amended himself quickly, not knowing if Greg had ever spoken to his parents about being gay. "Actually, I shouldn't have called it a date." He chuckled, in an attempt to hide his mistake. "He and a friend of Phalen's and mine are going to dinner. Greg's been holed up in the house a lot, so Curt decided to get him out and have some dinner and see a bit of the city or something."
There was a slight hesitation on the line and he became sure he had given away his brother's secret. He was prepared for either his mother or father to ask about Greg's date. Instead, they told him they were planning on making a trip to the States over the Thanksgiving holiday, and hoped it would be a good time for him and his brother.
"I miss my boys," his mother had said with a catch in her voice. "More than I could ever have imagined."
"Mother, is everything okay," he asked, suddenly worried by the tone the entire conversation had assumed. "Are you sure," he pressed when she became artificially cheerful.
He sniffed, catching an acrid odor. "Mother, Dad, I think I'd better go. Phalen said he was going to make dinner, and I think he's burning something!" He quickly ended the phone conversation and turned the corner from his office and headed into the living room just as Phalen screamed.
"Oh shit." He heard the sound of something crashing, followed immediately by Phalen's exasperated voice. "I give up!"
A faint cloud of smoke was creeping into the dining room over the barrier of the kitchen island. Phalen stood in the middle of the kitchen wearing a white towel wrapped around his waist as an apron, waving a hand in front of his face in an attempt to dispel some of the smoke. He looked up when Jeff skidded to a halt on the other side of the island, and put his fists firmly on his hips, looking stubborn.
"Don't ask!"
Jeff nodded, relieved at the absence of flames. Phalen threw a dish towel onto the kitchen floor in disgust, looking from side to side and then once again attempted to chase some of the thinning smoke away. He turned his back to Jeff as he surveyed the kitchen disaster, exposing his bare butt, a tanned accent framed by a large white bath towel. Jeff raised his eyebrows and tried to maintain a straight face.
"This is gonna take forever to clean up." Phalen turned back, catching Jeff as he tried to cover his smile. "What are you snickering at?"
"Why the towel?" Phalen looked down at himself, and at the relatively clean towel.
"I didn't want to get messy." He looked at the shambles of a kitchen. "I guess this should teach me. I should stay outta the kitchen . . ." He studied Jeff from under lowered eyelids, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Huh?"
"Oh, I don't know. There's no major damage . . . and your eyebrows will grow back, eventually." Phalen looked up in surprise and then checked to see if he had indeed scorched his eyebrows.
"Got'cha," Jeff chortled. "You believed me!"
Phalen playfully swatted at him as he left the kitchen. "That's 'cause you never joke. Better get dressed," he said as he walked past. "We're going out to dinner. Oh, yeah, you're buying. All my money just went up in smoke." Jeff checked to make sure the range and oven were turned off before following Phalen into the bedroom.
"Lover." Phalen looked over his shoulder from where he was standing in front of the closet with his hands on his hips. "Could we stay home tonight?"
"But it's your birthday, and I wanted to do something special for you." Jeff wrapped him in a warm embrace, noticing the slightly acrid odor of smoke. He grinned into Phalen's hair and kissed his neck.
"You already did something special for me. You tried to do something you've never done before." When Phalen started to say something, Jeff tightened his embrace. "Shhhh. I know it didn't go the way you'd hoped, but it was a wonderful idea, and I thank you."
"But . . ."
Jeff moved back enough so he could look into Phalen's eyes. "Lover, listen. You don't have to give me something to show your love. I know that's what you feel each time you look at me. I see it in your eyes. I hear it in your voice when you say something to me." He took Phalen's hand. "I feel it whenever you touch me. You give me something of yourself each moment we're together. That's the most wonderful thing you could possibly give." He leaned close and tenderly kissed Phalen, ignoring the watery eyes. Phalen took a gasping breath when they separated and swiped at his eyes.
"You really won't feel cheated if we don't go out to eat?" Jeff ran his open palms over Phalen's back, pulling him close once again.
"No. If you're with me, I will never feel cheated."
"For real?" Jeff nodded and kissed him once again.
"For sure," he teased, using of Phalen's favorite terms. Phalen grinned, realizing what Jeff was doing.
"Awesome. I didn't have a chance to burn the wine." The corners of Phalen's lips twitched in an attempt to hide a smile, recalling the disaster in the kitchen. "We could have a glass and throw the big down comforter on the floor in front of the fireplace."
"I'd like that."
Jeff tossed the thick feather blanket and a couple pillows onto the rug in front of the fireplace, the only source of light other than the small lights in the tree in the courtyard visible through the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.
Phalen stood in the doorway to the nearby bedroom and watched Jeff crawl across the white blanket to smooth it out. He never tired of watching Jeff as he moved naked about the house. People always considered him, the baseball player, to be the athlete. He saw Jeff's naturally lithe body as the ideal. Jeff's was an unconscious athleticism which he wore as casually as a comfortable set of clothes.
He turned toward Phalen, still on his knees, and sat back against his heels with a smile. The dark spread of closely-clipped chest hair was prominent against his pale skin. The hair narrowed to a thin line as it approached his navel and then fanned out once more above his thickening cock. He smiled, something Jeff was becoming more comfortable with now that he had dealt with most of the pain of his childhood abuse. Little by little, Jeff was becoming a new man, no longer jumping at the ghosts of his past, but taking control of his life.
"C'mere, lover." He held his arms out and welcomed Phalen into a warm embrace as they knelt facing one another. Jeff's kiss was deep and sloppy, the kind they both enjoyed. Phalen ran his hands over Jeff's back while Jeff kneaded his buttocks, pulling him close and trapping their erections between their bodies.
"Happy birthday, big man." Phalen squirmed slightly, grinding his erection against Jeff's. He attacked Jeff's mouth once more, welcoming his tongue and the small sounds of pleasure Jeff made as they kissed. "Damn, being here with you is much better than going out to eat," he breathed, as they moved apart and he laid back onto the blanket and pulled Jeff to lay on top of him.
After a leisurely dinner, and a long walk along Mill Avenue, the bustling main street of downtown Tempe, a stop at an ice cream shop, and finally after some more strolling, a cup of coffee at a small coffee shop, they headed for home.
'It's wonderful,' Greg thought to himself, 'to be with someone who appreciates quiet and doesn't try to fill every moment with sound.' He glanced at Curt as they drove beneath the streetlights with only the late-night sounds of the city surrounding them, and then turned away, smiling to himself.
They pulled into Jeff's driveway and Curt turned off the headlights and stopped the engine. Greg spoke just loud enough to be heard by the man walking next to him. "Thanks for the dinner, and the ice cream, and the company. I've had a wonderful time. Remember, the next time, I'm buying."
"You mean you would like to do this again? You didn't do this just to please Phalen?" Curt seemed surprised.
"Of course I would like to get together again. The meal was wonderful, as was the ice cream and coffee, but mostly I enjoyed the company. " Curt stayed close as they walked to the courtyard door, and into the shadows cast by the nearby streetlight.
"I, uh. Greg, uh . . . may I give you a hug? You've been so wonderful to me, ever since we met." He looked at Greg with a slightly mischievous expression. "Besides, I've been wondering what it would be like to hold you." Greg's grin faltered slightly.
"I've." Greg cleared his throat and tried to bring his voice under control. "I've never held a . . . man . . . before," he said with bowed head. "But, I'd . . . like . . . to . . ." His voice trailed off. He looked up to see Curt studying him. "What are you thinking?" Curt gave him the barest hint of a grin, hardly visible in the dim light.
"I'm thinking how incredibly lucky I am to have met you." He stepped closer and took Greg into a gentle embrace. At the first touch he felt Greg inhale sharply and then relax, and finally . . . slowly . . . wrap his arms around Curt's waist, resting his head on his shoulder.
Greg took a ragged breath and sighed with pleasure.
Neither seemed to want to be the first to back away from the embrace. Finally, Curt leaned back slightly and gently kissed Greg on the cheek. "Thank you . . . for everything."
Greg took a step back and nodded slightly, compressing his lips as he attempted to control his emotions. "No," he managed to say after a moment. "I should be thanking you." He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. "Touching you . . . like we just did . . ." He swallowed. "I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to do . . . that." His voice lowered even further. "Thank you."
Curt reached out and tenderly ran his fingertips over Greg's jaw, from his ear to his chin, and then backed away. "G'night," he murmured and turned away, heading to his car. Greg held up his hand in a silent good bye, watching as Curt backed out onto the street and drove away. He touched his jaw recalling the tenderness of the touch as well as the understanding in Curt's eyes.
'We're more alike than either of us realized, aren't we,' he asked himself as he let himself into the courtyard and pushed the heavy door closed behind him. 'We're both frightened. You, by what you might do, me by what I've never been able to do.'
"What is it I'm feeling," he asked himself, as he crossed the small courtyard, and then opened the door to the house, cringing at the three beeps made by the alarm system.
There was a slight groan from the floor. Jeff and Phalen were lying on a blanket in front of a burning fire. Jeff was on his back, with Phalen half-lying on top of him, his head on Jeff's chest. The scene before him was one of the most intimate he'd ever seen.
He'd never realized how athletic Phalen was. His shoulder and arm muscles were prominent, even when he was asleep. His broad back tapered to a slender waist and finally to firm tanned buttocks. His hairless legs were splayed wide, the left one draped over one of Jeff's.
Phalen's deeply tanned, hairless body contrasted sharply with Jeff's lighter skin, and the closely cropped spread of dark hair over his chest that was so much like his own. Jeff's pubes also appeared to be trimmed, but even so, were thick and dark, framing his penis which hung limply, resting on his scrotum.
Greg stood transfixed, thinking how much he envied them their intimacy. He wanted to be lying on the floor with them, feeling their naked bodies close. It wasn't sex he wanted, it was close physical contact with another man. He touched the spot on his cheek Curt had kissed only moments earlier. He could still feel the tightness of the embrace, and wished . . . deeply, that it had not ended.
Jeff stirred slightly and raised his head, giving his brother a bleary-eyed look. "Hi," he said with a voice rough from sleep. "You okay?" Greg nodded.
"Wonderful. Will I bother you if I sit out on the patio for a while . . . to assimilate things?" Jeff gave a languid motion of his hand and murmured something and then dropped his head back onto the pillow.
As Greg walked across the living room he recalled the feel of Curt's warm smooth fingers as he slowly caressed the back of his neck while they hugged. The memory was so strong it was as if he had taken a snapshot of those few brief moments which he was now able to examine at his leisure.
'What am I feeling,' he asked himself once again, as he opened one of the French doors separating the house from the patio. He cringed at the three beeps and glanced guilty back to the sunroom where the firelight still flickered on the walls.
Outside, the swimming pool lights cast wavering patterns on the trunks of the nearby palms as he sat down and stared into the depths of the pool trying to organize his jumbled thoughts. 'How is it possible for such a brief thing as a hug and kiss to mean so much?" His feelings came from more than the brief show of affection. They came from the feeling of friendship he got from Curt. It was a non-judgmental friendship . . . and undemanding. Neither of them expected something of the other. The companionship was totally unlike any he had ever experienced. He knuckled his eyes and then turned to look over his shoulder when he heard a slight noise.
Jeff was walking out onto the patio, his hair spiky, but his eyes clear. He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled when he saw Greg look over his shoulder. "Hi." He spoke in a low voice scooting a chair over so he could sit close. "How'd things go?" Greg smiled.
"Really, really well. I like him."
"I'm glad." Jeff lowered his head. "I wasn't sure what to expect." He shrugged slightly. "I'm like Mother. I worry too much, I think."
Greg grinned. "Thank you for your concern, Jeff. I think it's unwarranted, but . . . it means a lot to me. By the way, what happened in the kitchen?" Jeff grinned.
"Phalen attempted to demonstrate his skills as a chef . . . to celebrate my birthday. Things didn't go well. We ate something light and spent the evening with a couple glasses of wine in front of the fire. I hope we didn't bother you seeing us on the floor like that." Greg bowed his head slightly.
'Should I,' he asked himself. He licked his lips and looked back to his brother. "Jeff, I'm in a position I never expected to be in." His brother gave him an inquisitive look. "He . . . Curt . . . hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek when he walked me to the door, and now I'm feeling . . . like I need to be held." Jeff leaned forward resting his forearms on the table, interlacing his fingers. "I can't imagine going to bed and lying alone, not after having been held like that . . . at least not tonight."
He voice was barely above a whisper, his head bowed. "I'm not asking for sex. May I join you guys on the floor? You can put some clothes on if you like. I just need to be . . . touched." Jeff stood and rounded the table taking his brother's hand and urging him to stand. The moment Greg stood, Jeff held him tight, feeling his brother's hands against his back, his touch hesitant at first, and then firm.
"Thank you," he murmured next to Jeff's ear. "It's your birthday, and I'm the one getting the gifts." He chuckled against Jeff's shoulder. "I feel so wonderful I could shout."
Without seeming to think, Jeff backed up a step and looked at him with a slightly startled expression. He glanced over his shoulder toward the house. "Let me warn Phalen first. He'll think I'm back to my old ways." He instantly knew he had said more than he wanted. He gave his brother an embarrassed grin.
"Ah." He rubbed his forehead not meeting his brother's eyes. "Let me go tell Phalen you're joining us."
Greg studied Jeff closely. "Jeff, tell me the truth. Are you okay?" He stepped close and held Jeff by the upper arms. Jeff nodded, still unwilling to meet Greg's eyes.
"Yes, I'm okay."
"Your word on it?" Again, Jeff nodded. Slowly.
"My word." He looked back toward the house. "Let's go inside. If Phalen wakes up he'll wonder where I am."
With some reluctance, Greg let himself be led back into the house. Something was going on, or had gone on. Jeff was acting strangely. He closed the patio doors and turned to see Jeff kneeling beside Phalen, and then help him up. As they headed toward the bedroom Jeff motioned for him to join them.
He bit his lip, wondering if he had asked too much, if he would somehow change the relationship he had been building with his brother. He looked up to see Jeff watching him. Phalen must have already gone into the bedroom.
He took a deep breath, and walked to where Jeff stood. "Are you sure it's okay," he murmured, and was answered by a hint of a smile and a brief nod.
Phalen had thrown the covers off the bed and was on one side of the bed lying on his stomach, deeply asleep. Greg watched his brother climb onto the bed and lie next to Phalen. Jeff moved to a position where he was supporting himself on an elbow.
"Everything okay?" He looked up at Jeff's murmured question, realizing he had been hesitating, the old fears gnawing at the back of his mind. He nodded once. The thought of being held made him ignore his fears.
He quickly stripped off his borrowed clothes, lying them over the back of a chair. He hesitated a moment, wondering if he should continue wearing the brief underwear Phalen had given him earlier in the evening and decided against it. He bent over, peeling them off and tossed them on top of the clothes. He held his arms slightly from his sides and faced his brother. Both men knew that even being able for him to stand naked in front of his brother was an accomplishment. Greg dropped his arms to his sides and returned Jeff's smile and then crawled onto the wonderfully soft bed.
Jeff turned onto his side and moved close to Phalen, who groaned slightly and moved into a spooning position, his chest against Jeff's back. Jeff pulled Greg closer, his chest against his brother's back, and draped an arm over Greg's side.
"You okay now?" Jeff's voice was barely more than a whisper against Greg's neck.
"Thank you, Jeff," Greg murmured, feeling welcomed and secure. "Happy Birthday."
'I'm actually happy.' Curt laughed out loud, enjoying the first time in months that he'd felt really good. Even winning the big contract at work hadn't left him feeling this good. He looked at the lights reflected from his building in the lake as he crossed the bridge. Tonight they looked especially cheerful.
'It felt good to hold someone again without feeling guilty.' He glanced to the photograph of Brad stuck to his dashboard. The photo was barely visible in the darkness, and then down the long row of lighted palms leading to his building.
Hank was still on duty. 'Does he ever sleep?' Curt paused a moment to say hello and take the mail Hank already had waiting.
"You're looking much better tonight, Mr. Sullivan. A little rest will do wonders, I always say." Curt smiled brightly.
"You can say that again. Sleep, and a good meal with a very nice person."
Hank's eyes widened and he returned Curt's smile. "What's her name?"
"His name is Greg. He just moved here from Finland, and we had a wonderful time." Curt caught the momentary hesitation in Hank's smile and leaned closer.
"Don't worry Hank. I promise not to jump you." The security man thought a moment and then managed an unsteady laugh.
"I don't know whether I should be pleased, or insulted." He winked, relieving any tension that might have been in the air. Curt laughed and turned toward the elevator door.
"G'night, Hank," he called over his shoulder.
"Good night, Mr. Sullivan. Pleasant dreams." Hank's wish followed Curt into the elevator.
"I'm sure they will be," he spoke aloud, bouncing a couple times on the balls of his feet. "I'm sure they will be."
~ to be continued ~
Thank you for taking the time to read my work. I always welcome your email and enjoy hearing your thoughts. If you would like me to send a pic of the character(s), please ask.
In addition to the first 'Phalen' story, I have three other stories you may want to read. 'Leith,' and 'Chris' are located in the Nifty College Section. The third story is called 'Wesley', and is located in the Adult Relationships section. I hope you enjoy them all.
Best wishes,
Roy Reinikainen roynm@mac.com suomalainen_abq@mac.com