Date: Fri, 17 Aug 2007 09:46:14 -0700 (PDT) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: Natures Trail 20 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" 20 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % "You look a wreck!" Slowly, Darryl opened his eyes, reporting, "I didn't get much sleep." "In that chair, I don't doubt it," Riley summed up. "Why don't you go home and get a shower, shave and hit the pillow?" "You mean like sleep?" Darryl questioned, between yawns. "Sure. You can't do your job in that condition." "I can't go home. I have to pull a day's shift yet. What would the captain say?" "You go home. Get some rest and leave Cappy for me to deal with." "What about Denis?" Darryl asks. "I'll get a nurse to watch him." "But what if Denis wakes up? Says something important?" "He's not going to say anything important. His brother's injury was an accident," Riley assuredly reports. "Accident? But from what you said last night, I thought..." "I know the family. Denis is a nice kid. He wouldn't hurt a flea, let alone his own brother," his fellow police officer assures him. It then occured to Darryl `why the hell did he spend the night, if that was Riley's outright opinion?' However, he was too exhausted to start any battles. "Yeah, okay. But I think I should report sometime today." "Nah. Take the whole day. I can pull a solo shift," Riley enlightened his partner, after serving so many years solo, before the WRPD became operational with two officers to a shift. Before leaving, Darryl took a moment to gaze at Denis. "Nice kid, huh?" Riley asked him. "He was out. I didn't get to talk with him." That wasn't the way Riley meant it, but let Darryl think what he may. % "You boys are looking perky today?" Barry directs to Philip and Aidan. "Dad-Alonzo is picking us up," Aidan says. "Yeah," Philip agrees, "we have to be ready!" The dads have never seen the two reluctant to go to school, but also not as `wired'. "We're going to miss swimming with the team," Philip says. "Yeah, especially Matt. He taught us a lot of good stuff," Aidan tells them. "Hey, dad?" Philip asks. "What?" Barry and Steve both answer, simultaneously, which often occured. Philip picks, "Dad-Steve, do you think Matt can come over and show us guys some more swimming stuff in our own pool?" "I could certainly ask him. What do you think, Barry?" "I think it would be great, but why don't we wait til school's over with, boys." Steve states, "Wow! I can't believe graduation will be here in about eight more weeks." "I didn't get to ask you how classes are progressing?" "For the most part, what I hear from the other teachers, and speaking for myself, things are running pretty smoothly. Of course we don't have the luxury of having classroom materials at hand. But for the most part there's a lot of cooperation from the WRCC administration and the students." "Good to hear. Now I'm wondering about what to do about our situation, with Mark and Denis," Barry says. Philip asks, "Is Mark going to be in the hospital for a long time?" "We don't know much, son," Barry says. "How come Denis didn't come home?" Aidan inquires. "He was shaken up. The doctor at the hospital thought he should spend the night," Steve helped out, putting it as obscure as possible. "Are Denis and Mark going to keep sleeping together?" Philip asks, Aidan waiting to hear, too. Barry and Steve look at each other, then the boys, Barry answering, "I think we should leave Denis and Mark's business up to themselves." Steve remarks, "It's called `privacy'." "Sexy stuff can be tricky, I guess," Aidan brings up. "Right," Barry says. "Sometimes you have to leave things up to a person. Let them decide things. I'm not talking about you young guys though. Denis and Mark are older." Out of the blue, Philip says, "I hope when I get older I look as handsome as Denis." "Me too," Aidan agrees. "You can't be," Philip tells him. "Why not?" "Because Denis and I are blonds!" The two squirts made the dads giggle, for a moment forgetting about their sorrows over Mark and Denis. Needed relief! % "I'm sorry I can't be with you this morning," Alonzo tells Callan at the breakfast table. "Where are you going to be?" Seth asks. One thing Alonzo and Callan are getting to know about Freddie; they have no idea what his sources are, but he knows everything that's going on. Sidetracking the eleven year old, Freddie asks, "Where's your backpack, Seth?" "In my room." Standing there with a hand on his hip, Freddie says, laced with humor, "Well how am I supposed to pack your lunch with it in your room?" "I'll go get it." By the time Seth reported back, he forgot about the question. Freddie gloated over himself, derailing Seth's thoughts about something the dads would probably feel better the kids not knowing about. "I'm available this morning, if you need any moral support, Callan?" Freddie says. Looking over to Alonzo, Callan wondered if his partner was thinking the same thing he was. How did `it' leak out? Graciously, Callan replied, "Thanks a bunch Freddie, but I think I'll be alright." Then it dawned on Alonzo, snapping his fingers. He didn't say it out loud, but remembered Freddie taking the message, passing it on, from Detective Crew, about meeting him on campus this morning. "Well, I better get moving," Alonzo says. "Freddie, do me a favor and phone Steve and Barry, tell them to send the kids over?" Freddie gestured the sign of pointing with his index finger at Alonzo, as if saying, `you got it', adding a wink. He exited the diningroom. "Ready?" Alonzo asked, looking across the table. Callan asked, "Are they giving away candy or something at school?" "I don't know. I've never seen them so hyped up. But like you said yesterday, I think they're all `pooled-out'." Around the side of the house, Philip, Aidan, Seth and Diego piled into Alonzo's sedan. No sooner had they left, then Freddie brings the remote phone in hand to the door, saying to Callan, "Detective Crew for you." With Callan taking the phone, Freddie stuck around, tidying up the deco pillows on the sofa, all ears. >From what he understood, the detective would be meeting Callan at the house, providing taxi service to the college. As soon as Callan hung up, Freddie asks, "What time is he picking you up?" "Half hour," Callan replied. "Doesn't give you much time. You better get ready." Looking down at himself, Callan didn't think he could cut it in a tee shirt and boxer briefs, so took Freddie's advice and put a hustle to it. % Coming awake, Denis slowly blinked his eyes, focusing from blurry to the reality of where he spent the night. "Where... am I?" Hearing the sketchy voice, the nurse closed up his Genre magazine and stood up, beside Denis' bed. "You're in the hospital. Do you remember anything from last night?" "Mark... where's Mark?" Before leaving last night, Riley gave Harry the lowdown on the reasons Denis spent the night. "He's being taken care of. Maybe later you can see him." "Is he like... awake? Talking?" "I rightly don't know. Later we can ask his doctor. Hungry?" Harry tried getting Denis sidetracked. "A little. I'm real thirsty... but I think I gotta `go'." "The jon is through that door," Harry pointed. "I'll get rolling on some food for you." Harry, about the same age as Riley, twenty-nine, grew up with a tight friendship. On the same basketball team, Harry remembers often sucking Riley off in the shower, going over his house to play what he would later term, sexgames, which in reality were fantasies he dreamed up. Even as an adult, he would get a craving to get with Riley and have some fun. But when it came to serious stuff, he knew better to be alert and do what he's told or else at the next `sexgame', he would already have his demerits dealt out. In a way, Harry liked it when reality crossed over into their fantasy play. However, for this day, when Riley said, `Don't let the kid out of your sight', he knew it to mean literally. "Are you done in here?" Harry asked, peering through the open door, seeing Denis standing at the toilet, paying special mind to the two mounds with it's delicately split crevice. "Almost," Denis said, squeezing out the last drops of piss. At the door, he asked Harry, "Anyway I can take a shower?" "How about breakfast first?" "I kind of was hoping... well," lifting up his tee shirt, Denis singles out the dried blood on his chest, just missing his left nip, "I thought I could wash this off." "No problem. I can do it while we're waiting for your breakfast. Why don't you take your shirt off and lie down on the bed?" "Okay." Somehow, the way Harry talked, in his femmie voice, came across soothing. It made Denis feel more relaxed, even though his thoughts were still on Mark, wandering here and there to Darryl. As Harry stood there, he had a basin of warm water on the side table. Dipping a washcloth into it, he wrung it out and placed it on Denis' left pec, asking, "How's it feel? Too hot?" "No. It's just right," the teen said, looking down at Harry bathing him, applying some soap to his palm, spreading it evenly over his whole pec. Denis kind of had a feeling about Harry, call it teen-gaydar, but he had to know something before he told Harry something else. So, he asked, "Are you gay?" Stopping, his hand like glued to Denis' chest, he looks at Denis. "You don't have to answer it," Denis thought it over. "Why? Your gaydar switched on?" Harry says, laughing. Smiling, Denis says, "I guess you know I am too, huh?" "Takes one to know one!" Harry said, sniggling. "Then I guess you can understand it when I tell you what you're doing is giving me a hardon." Laughing, Harry joked, "Then encourage it, if it feels good. Why let it go to waste!" "Really? It's okay with you?" "Sure," Harry replies, with desire to bend over and get more intimate with his patient. Lifting the sheet up a little, Denis looks down, seeing his briefs tenting. He slid his hand down, engaging in playful activity. "Ooooh.. oooh..." Denis moaned, squinting his eyes shut. To give Denis more to go on, Harry expanded his area of cleaning, running over Denis' other pec, lightly rubbing the cloth over his nip, eliciting a moan each time. "Getting close?" "You bet," Denis replied. To be on the safe side, Harry walked over and slipped the latch on the door, saying to Denis, "Our little secret!" Denis arched his back when Harry wiped one pec and pinched his nip on the left side. It drove him over the edge, causing what medically would be termed a convulsion. Afterwards, Denis lay there, breathing heavily, while his hand still held his softened nine inch nail, nestled in a puddle of goo. As Denis' breathing subsided, Harry washed out the cloth, wiped down Denis' sweaty chest, then rinsed it, holding it by a corner. As if a maid, he says, "I don't do pubes!" "Thanks," Denis said, throwing back the sheet, lifting his briefs, pinning the elastic waistband under his teen balls, then attacking the gobs of cum muddying his blond pubic hair. "Nice size.... everything," Harry said. "Thanks. You know it's good to have somebody who is easy to talk to." "We're two gay men. Why not?" "Sometimes it's tough to talk about stuff, even if it's not about gay stuff." Tossing the cum-laden washcloth into the basin, Harry nudged his bottom onto the bed, Denis scooting his legs over so Harry had room to sit. "Have something on your mind?" "Mostly I'm worried about my brother. I remember Officer Sanchez saying something about talking to a detective, like I did something wrong." "Did you, Denis?" "I guess if I backed off, it wouldn't have happened and Mark would not have gotten hurt." "Hold it. Time out," Harry signified by holding his hands in a `T' fashion. "Did you leave out something?" "A whole lot," Denis said in a pouty manner, smirking. Sitting there on the bed, Harry looked over Denis' bod, his smooth chest, but for a light grazing of blond hair, which in a couple of years would sprout, covering his pecs. He hadn't thought he was into teen boys, but the dark blond treasure trail below the eighteen year old's navel gave him a jolt. "If you want to talk about it, why don't you tell me?" "Are you going to go and blab it to Officer Sanchez?" "I won't if you don't want me to," Harry replied, sympathetically, licking his lips, gazing upon the teen god before him. "If he asks you I guess it's okay to tell him. After all, I think he was trying to get it out of me." Asking for a drink of water, Denis took a few gulps, then said, "Here goes..." As Harry acted interested, which he was, he listened as Denis stretched his story back to the park bench, the WRCC campus, Mark coming to sit by him, saying, "I was too much into myself to realize it, but Mark was there feeling sorry for me, trying to comfort me. What a dummy I was not to notice." "You were stressed Denis. Sometimes it inhibits our abilities to pick up on things of that sort." "You think?" Denis questioned Harry, not picking up on Harry giving him the `once over', several times, instead of eye-to-eye contact. "Definitely so. What happened next?" "Oh, then Matt happened to walk by. He couldn't have picked a worse time." "Let me guess. He mistook Mark's caring for hungry affection?" "Would you believe Matt thought Mark was making out with me?" Denis posed the question as fact. "Has it happened before?" Right now, Denis wasn't sure he wanted to divulge details about their bedroom sex lives. Then again, he had a good feeling talking to Harry, as if he were a counselor. "Um, we've done some stuff together." Harry realizes, "What goes on behind closed doors is none of my business." Thinking about it, Denis says, "No, I don't mind telling. To tell you the truth, one of my dads caught us in the same bed together, then a week later, my kid-brothers found us together in bed. Mark and I talked it over with our dads, but it might be good having your opinion." Just then, a rap comes at the door. "Your breakfast," Harry says, standing up and walking to the door, turning the latch counter-clockwise. Opening the door, a Puerto Rican lad stands there, a tray between his hands, asking, "How come the door's locked, Harry?" "You've asked too many questions already, Jose." Then, detecting the eye contact made between the seventeen year old latino and Denis, he felt obligated to introduce the two. "Denis, this is Jose Vega. Jose, Denis Barr." Setting the tray down, wiping his hand on his hospital shirt, Jose offered his hand to Denis, saying, "Nice to meet you." "Same here," Denis replied, adding a gentle smile to the greeting. Totally ignoring Harry, Jose asks, as he uncovers the food, "What are you in for?" However, Harry interrupts him, saying snidely, "You ask too many questions, Jose. I'll call you back when Denis is finished." But Denis threw a wrench in the works, when he said, "No, it's okay." Then continuing, overriding Harry's directive, Jose stood there, as Denis informed Jose, "My brother's in the hospital too. I kind of got upset when they brought him in last night, so they shot me up with some drugs and let me sleep it off. I think I'm okay, though I wish I could see Mark." "Really? Must have been something traumatic for you," Jose replied, overriding his senior boss' directive. Seeing a two-fold purpose opening up here, Harry rethought his views of allowing Jose to stay. He could sit there and take mental notes for Riley, while Jose got the truth out of Denis. Already crowding him out of the scene, Jose had rolled the table over in front of Denis, positioning himself between Harry and the tray. Harry couldn't see Denis unless he adjusted his bod, which meant he would have to let himself fall over, onto Denis' legs, something he didn't want to do. So, he decided to vacate the bed altogether, sitting in the chair Officer Tudyk had sat in all night long. "There," Denis said to Jose, when Harry got up, "you can sit now." "Cool!" Jose said, parking his teen ass on the bed, which positioned him across the table from the blond. Harry listened intently, but the teens got sidetracked so many times, dealing out food, Jose wondering what a high school student is doing on a college swim team and dozens of other aspects of each of their lives. Yawning, Harry quickly got bored, thinking he'd rather take his chances with Riley discovering whether he kept tabs on Denis or not. "Let me know when you leave the room," Harry abrutly says, picking himself up. "Okay?" "Sure." Waiting for Harry to leave, Denis asks Jose, "He your boss?" "Yes, unfortunately," Jose says solemnly. "I thought Harry seemed nice enough, but apparently not to you." Adjusting himself on the bed, Jose replies, "The way he's been since day one of me working here. I really can't figure out exactly why." "Do you ever get the feeling Harry is `looking you over'?" Sitting there, Jose's face shows obvious question to Denis' reply. "In other words, have you have caught Harry checking you out?" Shrugging his shoulders, Jose tells, "When I first began working here, he seemed to have a million questions, like `Do you have a boyfriend?'" "Do you?" Denis asked. "Or am I getting too personal?" "Well, Harry started to get too personal, but it's not like you talking with you." "Oh?" Denis questions. "How's that go?" Smiling, loosening up, Jose says, "You're easy to talk with, plus I can relate to guys more my age. How old are you anyway, Denis?" "Eighteen. You?" "Seventeen. I'll be eighteen on November eleventh. I'm looking forward to it!" The teens exchanged smiles over the important milestone, occuring in any teen's life. % "I can get it from this side," Josh Crew told Callan, as he exited the detective's vehicle. "Um, what you said about all this... do you think he's going to confess?" Callan nervously asked, as he met Crew in front of his cocoa-colored 4x4. "Almost certain," Crew said, looking around the parking lot of WRCC, just outside the gymnasium. "Where in the hell are the police when you need them?" Josh said, waiting for the officers to show up. "There," Callan said, nodding towards the outer perimeter of the lot. Pulling up, right in front of Josh and Callan, the patrol car parked next to the curb, where yellow lines crossed the pavement diagonally, large yellow letters spelling out `no parking - fire zone'. Parking, the driver's door opened, Riley Sanchez stepping out. "Riley? I thought Mike Green was supposed to report?" Josh shouted over the hood. "He was. I convinced Cappy to change his mind." Detective Crew knew the reason, too. He wasn't born yesterday. He knew that Riley probably thought his size, six feet, one inch tall, the powerful build, would be the intimidating image necessary to help coax a confession out of the student. With his hat on and the dark sunglasses, it made up Riley to look something fierce, perhaps the image of a domination, straight out of a leather magazine. Of course Callan knew, behind the facade, was a caring, loving being. It made him smile, almost feel sorry for the swimmer! "Let's get this over with," Riley said, looking forward to this, as he followed behind Crew and his friend, Callan O'Meara. "Now Riley, let me do all the talking," Josh warned him. "Sure. No problem," Riley said, an evil grin forming on his face. Meanwhile, inside a confrontation began to build. For a moment, Coach Hollister went back to his office to retreive his stats book, to make new entries. Out in the pool, Matt had gotten the swimmers stirred up over Matt and Denis, hospitalized. "Well what happened to them?" one of the guys asked, dripping wet. Matt replied, "I don't know the whole story, but when I stopped my car, Denis had Mark hoisted up, over his back, unconscious. Blood was dripping down his chest." "Was his shirt ripped?" "No. He had stripped it to bandage Mark's head." "I can't believe it," Tony Gagliardi said, "Just yesterday Denis was shaving me and now he's in the hospital?" Matt reported, "Nothing much is wrong with Denis, other than a being in some kind of shock over what happened." Tony then brought up, "I think it would be a nice gesture if the team went to see them." Maybe they weren't officially registered, but Denis and Mark were well-liked by the team. As for Tony, maybe he a little more than `liked' Denis. "The thing is, when do we have time to go see him?" Tim Hadani asks the consensus. Each made their excuse for being busy for the rest of the day with classes, so Matt suggests, "How about now?" "Now? one of them says. "We all know what coach will think about that!" "As I see it," Matt tells them, "some things have more priority over others." They all agreed, not hearing Coach Hollister approach. "Why aren't any of you in the water?" he scolds them. The swim team push Matt to the front of the gathering, which he gladly accepts the postion to represent them. "Us guys were talking it over, coach. We want to go to the hospital and visit our teammates." "Clark and Barr?" "Yeah." "Look, they're nice kids, but they aren't registered. You all are. Not only are you getting graded for taking swimming, but we've got final competition next week." "But..." Matt tries to interject thought. "So far I haven't seen any of you guys put a hundred percent into your practice!" Coming out from behind Matt, Tony strutts his wide shouldered bod, saying, "You know coach, I kind of resent your remarks." "Oh?" Coach Hollister boldly says, advancing to inches of Tony's chest. "I don't remember asking your opinion, Gagliardi?" "Yeah, well, we've worked our fuckin' tails off for you since last year. All of us have been here for every class, come at night for extra practice, staying til midnight sometimes and this is the fuckin' thanks we get?" Standing there, hands on hips, an image to show he's not backing down, Coach Hollister, in his tough voice, projects, "Nice speech Gagliardi, but it ain't gonna cut it." Then raising his head above Tony's glance, he orders, "All of you. Back in the pool and I want to see some effort!" >From the crowd the swimmers hear one of their comrades say, "Now that's just wrong!" It's the comment which started the confrontation. Butting against Matt's and Tony's shoulders, Nils steps out from the back, saying, "Excuse me guys," giving coach a death stare. "And where do you think you're going, Kjaerholm?" Coach follows the lithe Scandinavian's back. Nils keeps going, not saying a word. Soon the whole team is following the tall blond back to the lockerroom, coach protesting the walk-out, using every curse in the book, to address them. Several of the swimmers, in disrepect, slide past him, wetting up his polo shirt. Within mintues, the team is dried and dressed, walking out. Still Coach Hollister is slinging profanities at them, warning them of the drop in their grade point average. Facing them, the team stops dead in their tracks, as they near the pool area exit. He addresses them, "Well finally. You've come to your senses." Coach Hollister wasn't the reason the corp of fifteen swimmers had halted. From the middle of the group, Matt recognizes Riley, standing there behind the two others. It's then coach finds out the truth when Detective Crew questions, "Coach Hollister?" Seeing Callan among the trio, plus the police officer, Juan cringes, trying to hide behind Tony's wide swimmer's build. "That's me." "Detective Josh Crew. We spoke on the phone yesterday?" "Sure." Then in a complete revision of his temper tantrum, he sweetly says, "What can I do for you?" Nudging Riley, Callan says, as Riley leans his ear over, "He's hiding behind the beefy fellow." With a smirk, Riley zeroes in, right through his shades, to the figure behind Tony. Even though Josh told Riley he would do the talking, Riley says out loud, "We have business with the student in the back." Switching his head around, over his shoulder, coach asks, "Which one?" Even with the tan, Juan couldn't hide the embarrassment of being singled out, especially when he knew the premise it was built on. Rather then being plucked out of the crowd, he surrendered from behind the v-shaped bod, saying, "They'll want to talk with me." "Juan?" coach questioned. Right away, Juan's teammates started grilling him with, "What's this about Juan?" "It's nothing guys. I can handle it," he said bravely, as he pushed his way through the fifteen athletes. When Juan approached the trio, his eyes connected right away with Callan's. He said, "I didn't mean anything by it." Detective Crew stated, "Read him his rights, Officer Sanchez." "Holy shit!" Tony yelled out, "They're arresting Juan?" Nils shouted, "What the hell for?" This time, Coach Hollister's body became a shield against the onslaught of caring team members. Things became more desperate with Riley cuffing Juan's right wrist, turning him around and cuffing it to his left. "Is this really necessary?" Callan asked, "The cuffs?" Coach Hollister couldn't hold back fifteen guys, as they soon surrounded the four, protesting. It's Riley who spoke up, "I suggest you all contain yourselves or I'll be taking the rest of you in for standing in the line of duty?" Probably Matt was the least concerned with Juan, as he paid strict attention to Riley, wanting to be in Juan's place, cuffed by Riley, being led off. His feelings made him glad the crowd's attention was on justice being served and not his crotch! % Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.