Date: Sun, 5 Aug 2007 09:01:44 -0700 (PDT) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: Natures Trail 15 The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection. % "Nature's Trail" 15 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % "What's the matter, Denis?" He didn't even look up, as he sat on a wooden bench, in the middle of campus, Mark towering over him. In both hands, he held a single piece of paper, red pen marks, like chicken scratches all over it. At the top, a number, circled, told the partial reason for for Denis' grim outlook. Around the bench Mark walked, parking his ass down next to him. "The math test?" He took it from Denis' hand. "Yeah," he replied, "You know what dad's going to do when he sees it?" "It looks pretty bad. A `61'? Didn't you study for it?" "Yeah, but... well you know.. I missed a few classes here and there." "I know, but I didn't think it would make this kind of an impact," Mark sighed, like he was feeling the pain of failing the math test, too. "Did you give Mr. Hanson the note?" >From his pocket, Denis withdrew a small envelope, replying, "Nah. I figured after flunking the test - what good would it do?" "Nothing for this," Mark said, regarding the math test, "but didn't dad warn us, if didn't have a note to Mr. Hanson, he would turn us in as cuts?" "What did Hanson tell you when he read your note?" Denis inquired, sensing his brother followed through on their plan to redeem themselves. Hesitating, Mark was sure his good news was sure to instill more bad feeling in his brother. "Didn't matter, did it?" Denis was sure of the outcome. "Matter of fact," Mark searched for the right words, but could only remark, "it helped. Mr. Hanson told me he would retract the cut he gave me and gave me a probationary warning." Exhaling a deep breath, Denis sits back in the park bench, running both arms along the width of the back of it, looking up into the sun, shutting his eyes. "You mean I did another royal fuck-up? Man have I got problems," Denis sighed. With sorrow for his brother, feelings running deeper than brotherly love, Mark put his hand on Denis' shoulder, rubbing it, traveling all the way down his arm, over his lightly haired, blond forearm, then back again. Up until now, any affection either has shown, always has been behind closed doors, in the privacy of their own home. Right now, Mark, feeling the hurt Denis was feeling, lay back, almost in the pocket of Denis' armpit, saying, "I'm sorry." Mark rested his arm on Denis' thigh, looking down at the paper in his hand. With his eyes closed, Denis seemed a million miles away from the college campus, even though he was sitting in the middle of one of the largest grassy courtyards. The hot sun felt great on his skin, so he just let his thoughts drift. Without thinking, his arm dropped down Mark's shoulder. "Are you okay, Denis?" "Hmm...yeah... you've always been there for me... thanks," he said, opening one eye, to see Mark's brown head of hair. As he lowered his arm, Denis pulled Mark closer to him, until Mark's head almost touched his own. With an open community, students passing through the courtyard didn't think anything of seeing two guys on a park bench, coddling up to each other. Suddenly, in front of them, they woke up out of their faroff dream, as they heard, "What's this, Denis?" Opening his eyes, squinting out the sun, refocusing, Denis tried to picture the guy standing in front of him. Right away, Mark says, "Oh, hi Matt." "Matt?" Denis says out loud, suddenly alert, sitting up straight, arm uncoiling from around Mark's neck and shoulder. Standing there, backpack on his shoulders, the straps causing a clear definition of his pecs and abs, like he didn't have a shirt on, hands tucked in his back pockets, Matt reiterates, "What kind of shit is going on here, Denis?" "I... I...." Mark says, "It's my fault." The nineteen year old swim jock shifts his gaze to Mark, staring at him. "Your fault? I'm walking across campus and find the guy I'm supposedly dating, with his arm around his brother, like they are.... never mind. I gotta get going to class." "But, Matt," Denis protests. "Forget it, Denis." With both hands on his head, Denis says, "This really sucks." Mark didn't know what to say. "See ya later," Denis says to Mark, standing up, wandering off. "Where are you going?" Mark calls after him. "For a long walk off a short cliff!" % "Hey Callan. How are you doing?" "Fine, Zach. Is Mike around?" Letting Callan into the Roberts residence, Zach leads him into the livingroom. "I think he just got out of the shower. I'll go see." "Thanks." Instead of sitting, Callan paces the floor, continuously rubbing his palms together, fidgety. Coming down the stairs, Officer Mike Green welcomes, "Hey, how you doing Callan? Long time, no see!" Mike gives his bud a hug, but instead of breaking their hold, Callan clings to Mike, saying, "I think I'm in trouble and I need your help." "What kind of trouble?" Callan goes into detail, explaining everything from when he turned over the kids to Matt, including innocently eyeing up the teen male, then what happened in the lockerroom. "And there he caught me with my pants down, my hand on my cock," Callan explains. With more explanation, Mike asks, "So the jock threatened you?" "Not with bodily harm, but yes, with words." "And he approached you first, asking to give you a blow job?" "Right." "You didn't do anything which would suggest he proceeded, say, `an invitation'?" "No. In fact I told him to get his fuckin' hands off me... to leave me alone." "Then what did you do?" "I honestly didn't know what to do, Mike. It kept running through my mind, the word, `scandal' and how it would affect Alonzo, the kids... my job. I figured the easy way out would be to let the jock get on his knees and suck me off." "So, that's what you did?" "No. I just about knocked him out, pulling his hand off my swimsuit and slamming him up against the wall of the stall, before getting out of there." "What's the fellow's name?" "I don't know. I know he's on the swim team and latino." "Well you did the right thing by not letting him proceed with the oral sex." "In a way, I just couldn't let him do it, Mike." "Calm down, Callan. Have you told Alonzo yet?" "No. I left the kids with Mrs. Kitchener, one of the kids' mom and came right here. Alonzo won't be home yet anyway." "Well, if the kid isn't bluffing, this could still be a sticky situation. It's better to play it safe than sorry." "What should I do?" "Calm down," Mike tried to comfort Callan, on the edge, with worry. "Let me throw some clothes on, then we'll take a ride down to the station and let a detective take your statement." "Are you sure this is the way to go?" Mike has seen this a few times in his career as a police officer. He knows what the victim is feeling. With his hands on the sides of Callan's shoulders, Mike tells him, "Don't be nervous, Callan. The detectives are only interested in getting the facts, not invade your privacy. Don't feel embarrassed about anything you tell them. Remember, `you' are the victim here." "Keep reminding me." Running upstairs, Mike changed from jeans and tee shirt, into his navy police uniform, returning in moments. "Ready," Mike called out. "I don't think I am," Callan remarked, in a nervous tone. "I think you should give Alonzo a call. He would want you to." Picking up the phone, Mike handed it to Callan. "What do I say?" "How about you dial, I talk?" So, taking the phone, Callan punched in the number for Alonzo's cell phone, handing it to Mike. When he heard, "Alonzo?... Mike Green," Mike turned away from him, walking across the room, out of earshot. Knowing Mike for all of the years he's been living here, back when Dr. Scalia brought his sister and him to the states, rescuing them from their predicament in Ireland, he thoroughly trusted the police officer to do his dealings for him. "What did he say?" "I'll tell you on the way," Mike replied, applying his hand to Callan's back, escorting him out of the house. % Peering down into the glass casing, Jim Faulkner says, "Will you look at all the different kinds of knives?" Moving his application aside, Connor replies, "Probably because they're used for different skills. If you're out in the wilderness and the only thing that's available is squirrel stew, I guess you'll need a special knife to carve up the poor creature!" Turning his lip up, Jim says, "Nasty. You won't catch me filleting some squirrel, let alone eat squirrel soup!" Connor laughed, saying, "C'mon. We better finish these applications up. We've still got to go over to Birdy's and apply." "I suppose. Prolly Denis and Mark are over there now, filling out applications." "Yeah, even though they were supposed to meet us here." Jim asks, "Maybe you heard wrong. Got it mixed up?" "I don't think so. When we pulled into the parking lot, there he was with Mark, getting out of Matt's car. It was Mark who told me they were coming over to the Army & Navy to fill out applications, then head on over to Birdy's. I remember saying we would prolly meet up with them somewhere along the line." "You boys finished with those yet?" the owner, Justin Beanhacker's uncle, Seb, asked. "Just about," Connor replied. "By the way," Jim inquires, "did two guys, Denis Clark and Mark Barr happen by here to fill out applications?" "You two are the first," he told them, then went to help a couple of guys with a kayak. "Uh, just leave your applications there when you're finished." Looking across the store, at the two checking out the kayak, Jim asks, "What do you think, Conn? Lovers or friends?" "Neither." "Huh?" "I'm tired of thinking!" Capping the pens, the two stacked their employment applications, leaving them on the counter. % "Are you seeing John tonight?" "He'll be in the campus library, doing some research. I'm supposed to meet him there," Kevin told his brother, standing there in the small office. "I got an idea," Tom said. "What?" "How about you, John and I go out to the club Saturday night?" "We're all working, remember?" "Which means it'll be perfect," Tom replies. "The action doesn't get going til after nine anyway." "One other problem," Kevin says, "Mr. Pinque's is closed." "I know. There's a gay club over in Madison." "That's like an hour away!" "So? I'm willing to play taxi," Tom suggests. "I don't know, Tom." "If you're worried about me coming between you too, you can forget about it. It won't be the first time I've been over to Madison. I kind of got acquainted with one of the cube dancers." "Why you sly fox! And you didn't tell me?" "Some secrets weren't meant to be shared between brothers," the twenty-eight year old says. "So, what's he like?" Kevin asks, parking his butt down in one of the chairs in front of Tom's desk. "Tall, handsome, `sgot a nice bod!" "Yeah sure. He's probably short, ugly and fat!" "Thanks for the boost in my self-esteem, bro!" "No kidding, he's good looking?" Tom smiles, telling the truth. "Like how old is this dude?" Suddenly, the glimmer wears off of Tom's face. "Let me guess. He's an old man, pushing sixty!" "Not exactly," Tom says, more a seriousness to the look on his face. "He's... about your age." "Nineteen?" "Eighteen," Tom replies, waiting. "Eighteen? He's younger than me! He's ten years younger than you, Tom!" "So?" "You're serious aren't you?" "What? About having an eighteen year old cube boy as a boyfriend?" "Scratch the cube boy, but...." then, mellowing out, Kevin says, "I guess you have the right to date whomever you want, regardless, bro. It just hit me." "What did?" Smiling, Kevin says, "This morning, on the loading dock." "What about it?" "You said you were being protective of my well-being. I suppose that can run both ways." "I appreciate your thoughts about me, Kev." "Well, I suppose John and I should take some time out for some fun." Tom sits there, smiling, not saying a word. "What?" "Oh nothing. Only it seems you were so reluctant til I mentioned Justin." "Justin?" Kevin asks. "Is that his name?" "You don't know him, do you?" "As long as his name isn't Beanhacker." "It's Gardner. Justin Gardner." "So, we'll leave right from here, on Saturday?" "Yeah. Tell John to bring some clothes to change into." "Cool!" Kevin replies, hepped up. "I'll do the same." As Kevin leaves, all Tom can think about is showing off his eighteen year old boyfriend to his brother and.... then it dawned on Tom. Would Kevin and John evolve into a full-fledged love affair? Then thinking mainly of Kevin's blond boyfriend, he said to himself, "At least he's getting a cute one!" % "You know, Neil, I really don't like the idea of keeping the dogs in a cage when we're not here." "I don't like the idea anymore than you do, but I think your Uncle Gary made it plain he doesn't want the house chewed to bits and pooped all over." "I suppose. But there's got to be a better way," Zach tells him, as each walk a dog, on a leash, down Mountain Glen Road. "We just have to be patient, til I graduate and get my own practice set up. Then maybe we can think about getting our own place." "I hear ya. However, there's another way." "What are you talking about, Zach? We're both in college, pulling a fulltime load." "Neil, I'm sorry for not being trusting enough." "Not trusting me? About what?" Crossing in front of Neil, facing him, Zach put a halt to the dog walking, saying, "It's like I wanted to tell you.... no, it was wrong... I should have mentioned this long ago..." "Well, how long are you going to keep me in suspense?" "Just promise me you're not going to freak out and get mad at me, Neil?" "Yeah, okay. I promise. So?" "I have like two million dollars in my savings account." "Wait. Can you repeat that?" "I have......." "No, I heard it, but...." "Are you alright?" Zach asks, taking his arm. "I think I better sit down." Corraling the dogs to the side of the road, Neil spots a rather large boulder, parking his ass on top. Zach stands there, offering to take the other dog off his hands. Neil takes off his baseball cap and wipes his hand over his head. "Okay?" Zach inquires. "Yeah. Wow! Growing up, I thought fifty bucks was a lot of money. In fact, I can't even picture what anywhere close to a million bucks looks like!" "Well, I've never seen it, except on paper." "I know it's none of my business, but how did you, being so young, accumulate so much?" "My dad. When I was born, a trust was set up. When I turned eighteen, I was entitled to receive it. The rest is history." "So that's how you can afford to go to college and not work, huh?" "I chose it to be that way. Then after I graduate, I can set up a practice and after you graduate, we can set up your vetenary practice." "Vetenary practice. Oh no. We're not using your money for that." "Why not, Neil?" "I dunno. I always thought about finding my own way through the world, earning my own money, that type of stuff." "A very selfish attitude." "What tha? You care to run that by me again, Zach?" Standing eye level, Neil jumped up from the log, hands on hips, questioning Zach's remark. "It's true." "What is? That I want to make my own way in the world?" "Right. In essence, all you're thinking about is yourself. Where do I fit into the picture, of your future?" "You're using that psychology crap on me, aren't you?" "Psychology? Ha! You make me laugh, Neil. It doesn't have anything to do with it. It's more about you and I as a couple, trust, feelings for each other, living for each other, but mostly... love." Then, flopping his ass down on the log, Neil sums up, "I guess I'm stupid or something." "Do you understand what I'm saying?" "I think. For so long I was used to being by myself, living by myself, I just grew to learn how to get along by myself." "Well, it's been," Zach counts on his fingers, "about four months since we met. Don't you think it's time you've started to think of me as more than a friend. You know I love you?" Looking over at Zach, Neil shows a faint smile, replying, "I love you too." "I'm just sorry I didn't clue you in sooner." "It's okay. I think this is the first time we've both admitted to each other we love each other." "True. I know we've layed together, kissed, had sex, but vocally, you're right, Neil. Truce?" "I'm sorry I got angry at you. It was uncalled for." "Oh, I don't think so," Zach says, with a smile. "Huh?" "Because then it gives us the excuse to kiss and make up!" Leaning together, the two shared a sweet kiss, until both dogs bolted for a squirrel running across the road. Like a Roman chariot, it pulled Zach forwards, almost sending him to his knees. "Thanks for catching me!" "My pleasure," Neil responded, both arms latched around his lover's waist. % Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.