Date: Wed, 21 Sep 2011 16:14:15 -0700 (PDT) From: Tchase Mcphee Subject: RancH HanDs 05 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, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states 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. % RancH HanDs 05 a continuation of `CoMPany payLoaD', WriTten by T. Chase McPhee % His second day at Elemental Habitat, was the first time James saw the outdoors, nodding to a security guard as they left the `glassed in' portion of the complex. Whole time they, him and his new boss, walked, Dutch did the talking, outlining much of the surrounding `apron', "Over that way is the North Field, over my shoulder," Dutch cast a thumb, "South Field," to his left, "over that way, yonder, the Dairy Barn and out beyond there, he looked over James' shoulder, "the `Verts'." However, as James turned his head to look behind him, Dutch smiled, knowing he wasn't getting snagged with the quick scan from the back of James' head, to around the knees. "The Verts?" James asks. Planing a hand, which smoothed over the tour of James' front, Dutch explains, "Dormitories which run vertical, almost at ground level. On top sits green grass. From an aviator's perspective you would not know they were even there. That is, if a plane were allowed to fly over!" Thinking vertical, James still could not grasp a picture in his mind. However he figured sooner or later he would set foot in every niche and cranny of the habitat. "Here we go." Not paying much attention, James finally keyed his mind into where they were headed, about five hundred feet in front of them. It didn't look like much, a circular building made of glass, no bigger than a small lobby of a skyscraper, one floor, with a weird, kidney bean-shaped roof. Speaking his mind, James says, "This is it? Like what is it?" "You'll see," Dutch smiled, holding a glass door for James. Inside, which you could see from the outside, was like an optical illusion, an elevator planted right in the middle, to the left a circular staircase, only visible if you were ready to hike downstairs. "We'll take the stairs for now. Mainly we use the elevator for cargo." A two-man stairway led downwards, at which point when they reached the cement landing, lights came on. "This way," Dutch led James down a hallway. Guiding him through a tour, "Here are the showers," he tapped a disc on the wall, which provided illumination, "which every ranch hand returning from the fields or barn is required to use." Whimsically, James replies, "I guess so they don't track dirt into the house, huh?" However, Dutch was serious, "Yeah, but it will be part of your job to make sure everyone follows through. Some guys return from their labor so tired all they can think of is getting back to their dorm or `Atlantis', with `you know what' on their brains!" Responding, James toys,"No, what?" Walking into the part of the room housing lockers, Dutch replies, as he shows off the showering facilities, "Use your imagination!" They left this part of the small facility with a snacking area next in line. Instead of vending machines, there were refrigerators with clear glass doors. "Additionally, making sure every guy gets in the shower, you will be responsible to make sure nothing is taken from this room without being in a guy's stomach!" "Wait," James is ready for an argument, "You know I can't to be in two places at once?" "You'll work it out," Dutch says, patting James on the shoulder. "C'mon. Let me show you the rest of the place." He followed, but wasn't happy about all the responsibilities being handed him. Suddenly the joking which consumed him five seconds ago, had left him. Entering the next room made James feel easier, Dutch introducing James not only to the fleet of bicycles, well not present at the time, but racks to hold each one, plus another dude, apparently making a repair to one of the two-wheeled vehicles. "Rally, this is James. He'll be working with you. You can fill him in on whatever else he has to do." James felt he was being dumped on the other dude, Dutch making a quick getaway. "One second," Rally said, going back to fixing the chain on a bike. However, James did not mind at all, standing, watching Rally stretch the chain, clean it with a cloth and then spray it. It wasn't the only thing keeping his attention, but sizing up the lad, another prospect figuring in his tour of the facility. Silence was broken, Rally asking, "You know anything about bikes?" "A little," James replies meekly. "I know how to ride one." Looking up at James, Rally says, "When's the last time you rode one?" "I think I was eleven or twelve." "After I fix this one we can take a spin," Rally says. "Cool," James replies, intimidated over the fact he hasn't ridden one in fourteen years! Snapping the chain back on the bike, Rally stands, faster than James can, as he was squatting down while watching. James is bowled over, landing on his ass. "Oops! Sorry about that!" Rally says, offering a hand up. "Nice grip!" James says, accepting the favor. No different than any other guy at the habitat, Rally replies, "I can have that affect on guys." The smirk told all, James telling him, "Maybe you can share your talent with me sometime!" A special moment occurs, the two in dead silence, till Rally asks point blank, "You like to fuck guys, James?" Giving Rally the runaround, James replies, "Depends if the guy can work me up to it!" It then occurs to James, the agreement between himself and Laurent not more than an hour ago, the `suck'n'fuck' thing. He amends his statement, "But it usually takes a real hot mouth to get me to that stage." If it came to it, as per his pact with his lover, sucking was in, fucking out, James could prolong a suck-session and skip out on the fucking. Or if it got `really bad', he could choose the alternative to shoot his wad on the guy's stomach. Choice number three would be the guy sucking his load down into his stomach. He was up for waiting till it happened and go with `the flow!' About 5'10", average build, Rally stood there and said, "It depends on the guy. I can either get real oral with or depending on how it goes, dig his ass. With you, though, I think I'd like to try working towards making you hard." "Rally," James explains, "we're going to be working together. All kidding aside, for what it's worth, I think we should just do the job and not mix business and pleasure?" "Why? What's wrong with me? Is it the glasses?" "Nothing is wrong with you. The glasses are fine," James says, taking them from Rally's hand and placing them back on the bridge of the twenty year old's nose. "It's just that..." James was sorry now he had joked, Rally probably thinking him serious, "I have a boyfriend." "Somebody here at the habitat," he began to walk the rolling bike up the hallway. "Laurent. You know him?" "Laurent? Oh cool! Is he back?" Rally says with excitement. "Uh, yes." "Good, because we all missed his batatas." "Ba-what-tas?" "Batatas. When we heard Laurent went out on assignment we all knew we were in for it," Rally replies, using the bottom step of the stairway, up, for brakes against the tire. "In for what?" Picking up the handlebars and dragging the bike up the stairs, James asks, "Need a hand?" "Nope. I'm okay with this." Without more than a few seconds of breath, "When Laurent left we were at the mercy of Perry Cooke's mushy food. And forget it! He downright `murdered' Laurent's recipe for batatas!" "Sounds like these batatas are popular?" "More than popular. All us guys love'em. I kinda feel sorry for Laurent though, because guys complain he never makes enough of them," Rally says, clearing the top step. Following Rally quicker across the tiny lobby, "Excuse me for askin', but just what are batatas?" "Unlike Perry Cooke, Laurent is more into natural, organic foods..." Thinking a second, he applies a brake this time, turning to James, a smile attached, "But you would know that already, right?" "Your story?" James smirks. "Wanna get the door?" As James holds the door, the twenty year old passes through, the bike at his side. James doesn't say anything, knowing Rally and his bike could fit through easily, even with his own bod inside the door frame. He smiles though. James has a quick flashback to when he was around Rally's age, grabbing every opportunity, in a crowd, rubbing his bod up against any hot guy! Like nothing happened, Rally continues, "Y'see, Laurent takes sweet potatoes, which in my own opinion are a lot nicer than regular potatoes, slices `em up thin and fries them." "French fries?" "More like potato chips. Anyhow, guys love'em." "I can't wait to try one," James replies. "Here," Rally holds the bike steady by one handlebar, "show me what you can do!" This time, James was looking at this in a risque sort of way, wanting to show Rally what he `could do!' However, being put on the spot, with the bike between his legs and not Rally, he went about his business, taking off and racing down a dirt road. When he hit the brakes, he could only think, "Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h shit!" "Oh shit!" Rally yelled, running towards where James lay with his back in the dirt, the bike on top of him. "Are you okay James!" More the actor, James props his bod up on his elbows and making like something tastes terrible in his mouth, "Is this organic dirt, because it tastes terrible?!" He spits into the dirt. Rally jokes, "Probably has a little cow shit mixed in!" "Ewe! You gotta be kidding!" Smiling and reaching a hand to the frame of the bike, Rally gives a pull. James, being `cute,' grabs the other side, hoping to get a free `lift.' "Oh shit, James!" Rally calls out, not being able to lift both the bike and James off the ground. Next thing, Rally is apologizing for falling onto the bike, which is crushing James' midsection. "Oh fuck! I think you crushed my balls!" Uprighting his bod to a kneeling position, Rally asks, "Maybe I should check?" "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" "Did not!" Rally replies, indignant. "Did too!" "Did not!" James claims, "Did too!" "Did not, but you can believe what you want," Rally says in a huff, standing. "Okay, so you didn't mean it. Are you going to help me get out from under this?" "Yeah, but keep your hands away when I do?" Both palms up and facing Rally, James replies, "I'm not touching a thing!" Rally pulls the bike off of James with ease. Standing and dusting his tan khaki pants off, he mumbles, "I hope I don't have cow shit on me!" "Only if it gets blown out from the fields. They use it for fertilizer. By the way..." "What?" "You suck at riding a bike!" He laughed, taking off up the road, James in pursuit on foot, till he braked, spinning the back tire to line the bike up across the road. Catching up, James says, "How come you can do it without falling over?" "Anyhow, you're not the only one. Guys, when they try a bike for the first time find out they are not like the ones they have home in their garage," Rally says, both walking the bike up the road. Curious about how guys wind up at `Elemental Habitat', James focuses on Rally, "So, what's your story?" "My story?" "How did you wind up in this habitat?'" "When I was seventeen I ran away from home. I come from a small town in Missouri... you notice my southern accent?" James smiles, because he `was' wondering, "I took notice." "Anyhow, I was palling around with this guy who was new in town. We were both juniors in high school. His dad was with the army and they kept moving around. We quickly became friends, because he said he could tell I was gay. I asked how come he knew. Denis, that's his name, said he had a gift." "Gaydar," James well knew. "That's what the guys around here say. Anyhow, Denis and me started playing around with each other and it felt really cool. No fuckin' or anything. Oral stuff, y'know?" Rally quizzed James without expecting an answer. "Anyhow, after a half year into our junior year, Denis finds out his father his going to be on the move again. I felt really pissed, because before Denis leaves, he says something to one of his buds on the football team that he's had sex with me. Me, I didn't think sucking his cock was really that much `sex'." James butts in, "It all falls under the say thing... suck, fuck, whatever..." "Well anyhow, next thing I know, I get to school Monday morning and when I have gym class, while some of the guys keep coach busy, four of them drag me into the jon. While two of them hold me, one acts like a referee, while the fourth guy starts punching me in the stomach. All the time they tell me `this is what happens to cocksuckers!'" "Awful. Plain, awful," James says, really feeling for Rally. "Yeah. My stomach hurt really bad. But I don't know how they could beat me up for being gay, when each of them took a turn making me suck their cocks until they dumped their loads down my throat. I didn't know if I was throwing up because of getting gut punched or because I had to swallow so much cum." "Probably both," James assumes. "In a small town news travels fast. After the second beating I knew I had to go. Worst thing, I felt I should go to my pa and tell him, that he would be understanding." "I take it he wasn't or else you wouldn't have to run away?" James said sympathetically. "He took me out to the shed, ripped my shirt off, took off his belt and gave me a thrashing. I knew right then and there I couldn't stick around." "What about your mother?" "Ain't got one. It's only me and my brother." Then on a sad not, "I probably won't ever see Mark again." "Why not?" Shrugging his shoulders, "Because he's like my pa, he don't like us gays." Feeling mighty sad for Rally, James reaches across the bike, places a hand on the twenty year old's shoulder, "I feel real bad for you." "No need to James. Y'see, in my travels, I had worn the soles of my shoes down and happened to accidentally come too close to the perimeter of the habitat. When a guy gets near here and is picked up, like me, they bring you in." "Into the habitat?" "Almost. The building you came in at?" "Where the plane landed. Yeah, I know it," James replies. "It's where everybody gets processed. If they can't make up their minds to keep ya, you stay overnight there until they do. I told them what I told you, but then they have to `profile' a guy. Once they have all they need, they have an interview." James smiles, saying, "I guess you answered all the questions right?" Rather than dwell on the interview, Rally states what he's accomplished at the habitat, "I came here knowing almost nothing. I had to work to get my high school diploma and by the time I was done, I knew what I wanted to study in college. You know they have a college here, right?" "Um," James replies, thinking on it shortly, "no, I didn't." "It's why we have to get this bike to the North Field. I suppose you don't know how things go here, right?" "I had a little briefing, but they leave it up to mostly finding out for myself," James replies, as they pick up the pace. "Everybody works half a day." "I like it already!" "No, but if you go to EHC..." "EHC?" "Elemental Habitat College," Rally defines it, "you have to go to college in the afternoon." "And the others?" "If you decided to work overtime, you can have your account credited, or you can chill out at Atlantis or one of the other recreational places." Right away James has already made his choice, `Atlantis'. Before he can dream about his bare back and buns plastered on the fake, white sandy beach, his thoughts are interrupted by chatter. "Oh cool! You fixed my bike Rally! Thanks!" James watches as a guy comes running over, from a bunch of apple trees, to claim what had to be his bike with the fixed brakes. It is clear the two are buds, embracing for a second before the bike it taken from Rally's possession. "No problem, Scott. What happened to your shirt?" "Got wet. I'll tell you about it later." James only smiled. With Scott's shirt only open down the middle, he wondered what the rest of the bod looked like other than the dark brown stripe down the middle. On the same wavelength, Rally replies, "Nice looking, huh?" "From what I can see," James replies as the two of them begin to walk back to the bike'n'hike. "Scott and me, we're the same age, but he's ahead of me at EHC. He also works out and has a hot sixpack!" It made James smile, but he was also still curious about the college and other things which guys' lives revolve around. "What about the college? What do you major in?" Speaking in general, Rally replies, "Most guys choose to go into something that has to do with the environment. They encourage you to pick it." "They?" "When you come here. The guy who interviewed me, sets me up with a counselor. His name is George. Have you met him yet?" "No," James replies, not even knowing he about to. "They didn't tell me much other than where I was going to bunk down." "Rumor has it you're in the Arboretum?" "Nice place!" James retorts. "But finish your story about the college." Rally goes on to tell about starting out with achieving his high school diploma. It just so happens, with all the facilities geared to science and the environment, it is the field he found an interest in. "When they handed me my diploma, which was in an envelope... they don't have graduation ceremonies, then it made it official. I was automatically enrolled at EHC." "In environmental science, I take it?" "Right, but I'm not sure in what way, so they have me working with bikes. Too, they don't have any openings in the science fields. It's one of the reasons they have so many ranch hands and guys like you and me who work in support. Anyhow, we better hustle it up. It's almost quitting time and if we don't get off the road we'll wind up part of the dust bowl!" Before Rally turns their walk into a light jog, he asks, "Think your balls can stand a short run?" James tears out ahead of him! % When Bill Speed left the office, leaving Nolan to his thoughts, indeed he had much to think about. However he wasn't alone. "So, what do you think, Nolan?" Looking up from his desk, Nolan stare at Yalin, his head sticking through the gap in the doorway. "About?" "I do a bad thing." "None of us are perfect," Nolan says, thinking how could Yalin `ever' do anything wrong? "I have link to this office. Before, I was checking it out and I forget to turn it off. I hear everything you and Bill Speed say." "Good!" "Good?" Yalin says, allowing himself to enter, thinking he is not in hot water with the boss! Skipping over the bullshit, Nolan asks, "Let me ask you, what do you think about what he's told me?" Coming in at his own bidding, sitting in one of the chairs in front of the big desk, at Nolan's invitation to sit, Yalin replies, "I think this is good move." "You do?" Thinking of the many reasons Yalin finds Elemental Habit to be conducive to his thinking, focusing on the ratio of gay men, plus the amenities, "I am not all sure at this moment, but I think I would like to work and live here." Thinking it over, from his own thoughts, of which some matched Yalin's, though they didn't compare notes, he found it strangely comfortable hearing Bill Speed offer up his position to Nolan, CEO of Elemental Habitat, upon his retirement, as opposed to returning to the Harrellsson building and city life. "I can't say I oppose the idyllic lifestyle around here." "When they interview me, they tell me it is nice to live here, but nobody lives here for free. They tell me I have good record, so they put me here with you, but tell me I can go to college if I want." "I hope you jumped on it, Yalin?" "Yes, but maybe another reason I will stay here." "You and Jeff Golubovic?" Nolan guesses. "It didn't work out." "Oh," Nolan left the reasons to Yalin, but show concern, his outlook changing from excitement, to sympathetic. "Maybe I will get lucky." "Really? You've met someone already?" Showing indifference, Yalin responds, "No. Not exactly." "How's that go?" Nolan asks, settling in for a lengthy explanation, leaning back in his swivel chair, elbows propped up on the sidearms, folding hands midway between pecs and navel. "When they tell me the room I will be staying they also apologize, because they wanted me to stay in the Arboretum." "Where Hewy and I are staying. It's for executives. No reason `you' shouldn't be put up there as well?" "Yes," Yalin agrees, "but right now they do not have a suite available. Instead they place me in a `Garden Cottage' with another occupant." Right away Nolan jumps on it, "Name? Age? Build? Um, size?" he laughs! Smirking, Yalin replies, "I have his name, Gavin Roberts." "Gavin Roberts?" Immediately Yalin gets the impression, "You know him?" "Gavin Roberts... Gavin Roberts," Nolan perks up in his chair, turning to his right side, types away on his keyboard, "I know that name!" Sure enough, all it takes is a Google search and he turns up about three thousand lookups. "Oh boy!" He says, studying several, overwhelmed by the choices. Seeing almost every entry reading `NYT Bestseller', he turns to Yalin, while his hands are still typing, "That's right. Roberts has a book on the New York Times Bestseller List. It's been there for at least a year." Finding the exact location, "Here it is; Gavin Roberts... BS in Aquatic and Marine Biology from Stetson University, MS in Tropical Conservation Biology and Environment, University of Hawaii at Hilo, PHD in Biological Oceanography from Oregon State University and the name of the his book... that's right, `Earth: Man's Greatest Fuckup!'" "What?" Nolan replies, jumping out of his chair, running around the desk and bending over to look at the computer monitor. Nolan smiles, feeling Yalin's tie graze the back of his head, like it was something of a sexual flirt! Instead, he pays more attention to the subject in mind, "Yup, that's what it says here, but..." He hated like hell to tear his mind away from the computer, as well as Yalin's, with a long range hope of feeling something more, like Yalin's chest bumping him in the head, however as fate has it, he had more of a tale to tell about Gavin Roberts, "to have him explain it in person..." An excited, curious look on his face, Yalin asks, "You've met my roommate? What's he like?" Smiling, returning to the same position as before in his upright chair, Nolan asks, "Depends on how you mean that Yalin!" Instead of returning to his chair, since this had stray from a business perspective, Yalin took liberty to rest his butt on the side of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest and with innocence, "I would appreciate any information you can give me before meeting him?" "It's a good policy to always be prepared," Nolan thought on it, reflecting back to meeting Gavin Roberts for the first time. "First tell me, what does he look like?" "Well let's see. It was about two years ago, when his book first hit the New York Times Bestseller List. He was still working on the tail end of his PhD, when I was meeting with a client. There was a massive crowd at the book store, but it was hilarious when we pulled up to the curb in our limo.... the crowd thought we were connected to Dr. Roberts` book signing!" Nolan laughs his ass off, because at the time, his client, "Yarmon Konnek," he smiles, relaxing back in his swivel chair, placing his hands behind his head and staring out into the nothingness of the room, his face adorned by a smile. Yalin waits patiently for Nolan to come back to earth, but is impatient to hear about his new roommate, "What does this Yarmon have to do with Gavin Roberts?" Really, it would have served no good for Nolan to share his brief `love story` about Yarmon Konnek, meeting him by coincidence at an art show, when Nolan was a student back in college and their rekindling sexual fun a few years later, instead focusing on, "Well, it was because Yarmon just `had` to have this book before he returned to New Zealand, is what led to us happening upon the book signing by `your` Dr. Roberts!" Yalin just sat there, same position of arms crossing his middle, straight faced. "What?" Nolan replies to the state of demeanor. "What's he like for the tenth time?!" "Oh sure... about your height, a couple of inches shorter, dark brown hair, brown eyes, I think, nice swimmer's build, beautiful hairy chest and stomach that's fun to touch!" Nolan gets his sexual dibs in! It led right back to where Yalin was trying not to go, but now because it piqued his interest, "You were personal friends, I take it?" "Oh man was he good in bed! Had this nine-incher, which when properly sucked, bloated up to a full ten inches! Oh man was he a hot blowjob! Too, he had this fetish..." "Fetish?" Yalin wasn't too sure about his prospective roommate. "`Had a thick shag on his chest and loved to have his bottom-bud search through the bushes with a tongue, probing to find his hot nips. Oh man... I could have sucked on those nips all day!" "Oh really?" Yalin said sarcastically, but perhaps a bit premature jealousy chiming in, "More than his bloated ten inches?" "Oh no, no, no-o-o! Hot to suck on, but not as hot as his big, juicy cock and damn! The most juicy, succulent balls a man's tongue could ever taste!" Dramatically said, "One sac so big it's lucky I could fit it into my mouth!" Now, with `determined' jealousy, "Are you sure you haven't left anything out?" "Did I mention his hairy ass?" "No, you didn't." Seeing Yalin maybe tiring of his sexual tirade, Nolan replies a simple, "Nice. Only downside. I've tasted better." "Well," Yalin gets up from his perch and begins to head for the door, "I guess you and my new roommate hit it off pretty well?" "Your roommate?" Nolan questions. "Oh! Dr. Roberts? I thought we were talking about Yarmon?!" Swishing his bod around, Yalin asks, "You mean all that stuff about tasty nips and juicy balls was all about your friend Yarmon?" "I'm sorry. I thought you knew?" With the air clearing, Yalin felt a hugh sigh of relief. For the past few years, life has been a hectic one. First, it was a slave to Erik Harrellsson's whims of passion and pain, then thinking he had it in the bag with Jeff Golubovic and after finding the mismatch more a mishap, thought, at twenty-eight he was doomed to live a life of solitude. Though, with being transplanted to Elemental Habitats, he looked at this as a brand new, fresh start. Even though Nolan was in apology, Yalin bore some of the brunt of blame, "Maybe I wasn't paying attention and missed something?" Suddenly there was a `beep'. "What's that?" Nolan looks around the room. "A beep," Yalin replies. "It tells us lunch will be served soon." "Hmm," Nolan says, "I haven't heard a beep for lunch since high school days!" "It is installed in all areas of the habitat. Have you read your booklet?" Nolan smiles, saying, as he places a hand on Yalin and they both head out, "That's why I have you!" % "Oh shit! Run!" "What?" James replies in question to Rally's command. More joking, Rally yells, "Run for your life!" First he turns around, at the sound of `something'. Seeing dust heaving up from the road, he's not aware of the impending `danger', but adheres to Rally's warning and takes up speed, the two on foot, headed back to the bike'n'hike facility. Rally makes it to the building in plenty of time, but a yard away, James is caught in between a barrage of bicyclist! Freezing in place, arms to his sides, he prepares for a crash, touching his chin to his chest, exclaiming, "Ohh-h-h-h-h-h-hsh-h-h-h-hit!" James `knows` he heard the phrase, `Hey! Who's the hot guy?', but missed out on what Rally would describe later as one of the cyclers more interested in `him` than where he was going! All James knows is when he looked up, the bike riders waiting in line to get back into the bike'n'hike, only two other riders reporting to this one guy, `down.` Uncoiling from his standing, fetal position, he didn't even bother to dust himself off, rather his paternal instinct kicking in, "Hey, are you hurt?" One of the dudes responds, "Jake, you okay?" Another, "Don't move him," he tells, the victim sitting but in a daze, "Samuele, he might have something broken." "He's right," James replies, of which the three take more interest in him than the accident victim! Dirt-covered, the victim smiles, saying, "Hey, you're cute!" It was all a minor mishap, as James suspected, but also made three friends instantly, offering to take, who he found out, was Jake's maimed bike. Entering the bike'n'hike facility, he wasn't sure how things went, automatically going for the stairs. "No, no... we take the transport," Jake says, still leaning on Dean's shoulder, who is managing both bod and bike. They waited a second for James to react, Samuele figuring, "Bet you don't have your key yet?" And thinking so, says, "Dean, go downstairs and ask Rally for his key." "Like history!" Dean replies, James taking up the slack with both bikes. "Where you from?" Jake asks James. During the briefing, James was cautioned about previous life experiences outside the Elemental Habitat facility, concerning not only how he happened to come here, but also personal-personal. Instead of the past, he reflects on the here and now, "I'm staying with my partner at the Arboretum." "Arboretum!" Samuele responds, shaking a loose hand back and forth, "You must `know' somebody!" Zeroing in on the `personal' aspect of James' rendering, Jake asks, "Who's your partner? Maybe we know him!" "Laurent. He's a chef." "Laurent?!" Samuele replies. "Oh man! You're set for life!" "Set for life?" James seeks reason. "Like the way to a man's heart is not only through his cock and balls?" Jake puts it, Samuele filling in the gaps, "Laurent is like the `best' chef we have, only he's away on assignment." Apparently they hadn't heard he's back, Jake laboring, "Yeah, we've all been subject to voluntarily cutting back on our meals, due to the incompetence of our current chef... oh wait. I made a mistake... did I say `chef?'" "You did, you doofus!" Samuele clobbers him with criticism. Coming up the stairs, something jingling in his hand, Dean awards Jake, "Jake, you being a dork again?" "Oh course," Jake replies. James liked these guys. In retrospect, thinking over the past twenty minutes, they got along well, cared about each other and was even drawing himself into their web of camaraderie. At the bottom of the glass elevator shaft, it seemed Jake had made a miraculous recovery, James having surrendered his bike. Exiting, James runs right into Rally, holding up a long chain, a pair of `dog-tags' connected, "I take it these are yours?" "Right and we've got to get you a set too." "Very ingenious," James says of the two oval shaped pieces of metal, numbered and lines engraved in both. "Easier to use and keys, well they have a habit of breaking off. Too, it's easier during sex." Rally left James hanging on that impingement, asking, "Which means?" Walking next to James, "Ever get poked in the chest with a key while trying to make out?" "No," James replies and as if Rally spoke `first person', "you?" "When they had the old system, yes, but now... you can't get poked with an oval shaped computer key." However, `keys' were instantly erased from James' mind when they enter the shower area. `Oh fuck!' his mind is shifted to `autopilot', viewing the dusty bike dudes who just passed him on the road, either with full front assault of their hot bods, or a towel wiping off beads of water! In no time, the three who had dropped their bikes off at the `wait station', had come to remove the grime from their uniforms, James viewing each unbuttoning their already half undone khaki shirts. "C'mon James," Samuele says in a suggestive manner, "you're as dirty as the rest of us!" He knew, like Rally, he was supposed to be an `overseer' of sorts, keeping the guys showering and not loitering for any reason, which could be anything from some `closer' shower activity or goofing off. He got himself off the hook, because Rally wasn't around to answer for him, "Maybe later after you guys've finished." Then, he was subjected to his first confrontation, two guys whipping each other with wet towels, James a little reluctant to interfere, saying, "Are you guys supposed to be doing that?" It really was not a wise choice, one saying to the other, right before he whips his towel, snapping it against his adversary's obliques, "Yes-s-s-s-s-s!" an exclamation of both, answering James and scoring a perfect hit. "Akk-k-k-k-k-k-oh-shit-Donny!" Stopped, lifting his towel up in the air, Jason pulls on his stomach to peer around his own bod, looking at the red line painted across his left ribs. "Oh my god!" Donny replies, which anyone could tell was a fake sigh of caring, because right after, he laughs his ass off. It only provided ammunition for Jason, him throwing his towel, which was up in the air, over Donny's head, then using it to reel Donny in, suckerpunching him in the stomach. "Ughh-h-you fuck!" Now, James knew this wasn't innocent play, the tide turning, so he steps in between the two and acting like a cop, breaks up the action, right hand against Jake's chest, left hand plastered, a bit off center, against Donny's pec, warning, "That's enough, before somebody really gets hurt!" Looking back to the door, hoping Rally would have come, which he hasn't, he inadvertently swipes his attention past his three new friends. Each is giving James the thumbs up. Exercising his right for law and order, James pushes on Jason's chest, asking, "You done showering?" "I'm done," Jason replies, his hand rubbing up his still stingy ribs. "Then get dressed and clear out," James orders. "You?" he turns a nasty look to Donny. "Um, uh, yeah, almost done." "Then cut this shit and get moving?" "Right away," Donny addresses James, "sir!" and hustles back into the steamy midst. Turning back to the three he left, James' harsh demeanor mellowed out soon enough. How could he possibly have kept up the disciplinary act, facing three `beauties'. Dean jokes, "We were contemplating on hazing you James!" "Really? And how would that go?" Jake replies, "It was Samuele's idea." "Samuele?"James is curious. Smiling, the twenty-six year old replies, "It could've gone two ways. Either I could have Jake and Dean hold you and strip you down, or... you it could have gone along civilly?" Returning the pleasant gesture, James says, "Either way would have worked!" Knowing they were more than buddies, Dean says, "Maybe you should wait here, Samuele, while Jake and me take our shower!" Samuele replies, "Depends on what James thinks!" Tough decision to make, Samuele totally nude and coming dangerously close to James! Little had James known, Samuele wanting to `taste' James in the buff, not knowing what it was which kept him from reaching right up to James' shirt, undoing each button, maybe passion wanting him to scatter the buttons on the floor, lust kicking in to the point of surrender, even though he has always claimed himself as `top' man. Thinking James turning him down, Samuele says, "I guess I better join Dean and Jake." "No, wait!" James calls to Samuele, watching his ass start to disappear in the mist. Stopping, turning around, wiping a little steamy-sweat from his face, Samuele replies, "Maybe another time James, after we get to know each other." "Yeah, maybe," James replied in fading surrender. Entering the locker room, Rally asks, "Most of the guys have cleared out. Who do we have left here?" Foremost on his mind, James replies, "Samuele, Dean and Jake... and oh, Donny." Secrets hard to keep, because guys like to talk, Rally says, "I heard what happened with Donny and Jason?" "Yeah. Truthfully I wasn't sure what to do. I thought it was just some lockerroom fun, until Jason started to make it turn ugly." Uglier, Rally was forced to lay on James, "You know you have to fill out a report on this and submit it to Art Smith?" `Truthfully', James didn't want to do it, only on the basis of his first meetup with Art Smith. Regardless of any hearsay, his first impression had been Art Smith is a `schmuck'! Because he hesitated, it gave Rally indication, "I know you don't want to, but..." "I know," James remembers, "Dutch says we have to make it look good." With question, "Like what will Art do to them?" "Depends on their attitudes when he interviews them. Their both nineteen years old, not too far out of high school. They are at a transition in their lives. Donny to me seems a little more mature, whereas Jason, my opinion? When it comes to Art Smith, he's in for it!" "Y'know, we were all their age at one time?" James says, like he's trying to barter Donny and Jason out of their punishments. "I know and unfortunately it's not the way Art Smith see it. His philosophy is more like, `you have to get them while they're young'?" "Hmm," is all James said for now. Thinking back over his latter teen years, if he didn't focus his energies towards helping to raise Tom, his younger brother might have wound up in an undesirable place in life. "I've got to think on this," he told Rally. Think he did. For him and Tom it wasn't all `tie down and torture' fun, but as James thinks back to those years, of helping Tom through difficult times, both socially and academically, he smiles, thinking of the time he taught Tom how to shave. He giggles out loud, remembering when Tom had a question about shaving his pubes. One night in their teens they followed through after James' lecturing, James on edge as he turned the shaving foam and double-edged razor over to his brother. Rally had disappeared for the moment, returning, "I've left two reports out on Dutch's desk. All you have to do is fill them out, have Donny and Jason sign them and..." "Sign them?" James said, like in horror. "You mean they have to know I'm reporting them?" "Hey get used to being the mean ogre!" Was Rally's rational repose. "Where are you going?" James questions him standing in the doorway, ready to book. "The guys take care of washing themselves down. I get to wash down the bikes!" After Rally left, James thought about it. He smiled, thinking logically, bicycles didn't have handsome faces, broad shoulders, built out pecs, taut abs and everything nice down below! Maybe he wasn't getting the raw end of the responsibilities around here. Leaning on a dividing, tiled wall, Samuele says, "I just thought I'd let you know, Jake, Dean and Donny are having an orgy back there?" "Bad enough Donny has to go on report once today," James says. "Does that mean you're going to allow them to share their seed?" It was tough turning away from Samuele, even though he was clothed with a towel, two inches below the bellyhole. Instead of playing Samuele's game, James switched off to, "Funny, I had a strong impression you were a top man, Samuele?" Seeing it partially as an invitation, the twenty-six year old walks over to James, lowers a hand and reinforcing his statement with a hand to James' crotch, "Anytime you want to get naked, we can find out where we both stand?" In answer to Samuele slowly massaging under Jame's balls, he says, "On the contrary, Samuele, I would be the one `standing', you on your knees?" Staring into James' eyes, Samuele's hand stops the sensual massage, saying, "If I'm not mistaken, I think we're around the same age?" "Twenty-six," James says frankly, "you?" "-Seven. Same age, think you might like to get together sometime?" "Did you miss my conversation about Laurent?" Smiling, Samuele replies, "I for one totally agree with the phrase, `three's a crowd?'" Right away, James' thoughts were Laurent loving to have two tops, perhaps Samuele going versatile, maybe himself. Too, his thinking was Samuele being a `hot man', so didn't crowd out his thoughts in the negative just yet. "Like you said Samuele, `wait till we get to know each other?'" "Fair enough," Samuele replied. James knew it was a direct flirt, Samuele whipping the towel off from his hips, like unveiling a Toyota on the Price is Right. He would have liked to have stood there and watch Samuele assemble himself back into his clothes, but turned around at the sound of voices. Jake is first to say, "I betcha Samuele tattled on us, didn't he?" He did and James knew it, but covered for him, "I could probably guess there was more than showering going on in there, you three being in there so long?" Donny says, "Dean make me suck him!" "I fuckin' did not!" Dean complains. Not ashamed to say, Jake says, "Dean's right. `I' made Donny suck him!" "I'd really like to stick around for the details, maybe jerk off to your story, but the lunch bell rang?" James says. Coupled with Laurent back in the food chain and father time, the three put a haste on it. Faster than Samuele, they had themselves dressed and out of there in a few minutes. "Waiting for daddy to zip you up?" James asks, seeing Samuele, sitting there with his shirt on, but still needing to be buttoned up, pants on, but the zipper down and belt needing to be threaded and buckled. Without the whimsical play as before, Samuele replies, "Nah. Laurent's too good a man and you... you're a nice guy too. I don't want to mess up what you two have." "Good you took your time," James says, sitting down and lacing his boots. "Why do you say that?" even though, to Samuele, it looked like James was in the process of undressing himself. Taking a boot off, James replies, "Because there's one more grimy guy around here who needs to take a shower?" Buttoning up his shirt, Samuele says, "Well, even though I took my shower, if you need some help, let me know!" "Nah, but thanks. Helping me out might mean missing lunch. We wouldn't want to upset Art Smith now, would we?" Samuele replies, "Art Smith doesn't scare me." Said with conviction, James feels prone to question, "Oh? How's that go?" Sticking his head in the door, Rally announces, "Lunch guys, if you didn't hear the bell?" "We'll be along," James replies. "Okay, well I'm headed over to the dining hall and there's nobody else around. Lock up?" "Lock up?" James asks, but Rally already gone. "There's no lockup." "No?" James asks. Samuele shakes his head in the negative. "So, about you and Art Smith?" "It would take more than a few minutes to explain," Samuele replies. Sucked in to hearing Samuele's story, very curious about him now, since he was also taken in by his handsome face, stealth bod and `other' features, he says, "Most likely my shower would take more than a few minutes." Samuele sat there, watching James strip down. From the boots coming off, unbuttoning and removing the shirt, he says, "I've got an extra shirt, if you need one?" "It's something I didn't think about this morning, getting dirty?" he laughs. Standing, Samuele's pants fall down to his ankles, "Oops!" Because he hadn't put his boots on yet, he says, "I'll leave them there for now," meaning, stepping out of them, which put him in socks, briefs and a half-buttoned up shirt as he went to his locker. James smiled, seeing the way Samuele's ass clung to the white briefs. However, his mind was also on lunch and `the chef'! "What size waist do you take?" "34!" "Oh-shit-you-scared-me!" Samuele exclaims, feeling James' bod right at his back door! Turning his head, he spots James, totally in the raw, saying, "Quick strip!" "More than I can say for you, Samuele!" Samuele's cock started to pulse at the feel of James' hands engulfing his middle, fingers busy at his buttons. "Oh-h-h-h-h!" he sighs, when James' hand slips in the elastic of his briefs. "Do you always get this hard looking for clothes in your locker?" "Depends on who I'm look for... um, you going to take that shower?" he says, helping himself out of the unbuttoned shirt. Innocently, James replies, "Waiting for you?" He had already given hint, his thumbs in the elastic of Samuele's briefs, depressing them. Turning around, James thumbs acted like an electric can opener, one of Samuele's hands going behind James' neck, pulling him in for a drag off his lips as his other hand worked at getting his briefs down. With two hands available, as James put them around Samuele, palms following the contour of his shoulder blades, down his back, he `helped' by pushing the briefs down over the two mounds. "Ready to start up a hot shower for me?" They traded off kissing, walking to the shower, which because of the foreplay, it took them a good ten minutes before the shower play on their skin! % "Having fun are we?" Seeing Hewy bring out a platter of food from the kitchen, set it on a banquet table, Nolan `had' to comment. "Not bad. Got a nice boss," Hewy responds. "I thought you would like peeling potatoes for a living!" However, Hewy had it over on Nolan, "Nope. I don't peel potatoes. I don't even wash dishes!" "Then, what is it they are having you do?" Nolan questions. "I work with Laurent Cointreaux." On the side, "He's a very hot man. You would like him." Between his conversation with Yalin, Nolan hadn't much chance to go over Elemental Habitat stats, saying, as he scanned the huge dining area, "That him over there?" It `had' to be, the only chef wearing a hat which looked like the ceiling rafters could knock it off the person wearing it! "That's Laurent." "Chubby little man," Nolan says with a laugh. "Beefy, is how Laurent likes to call himself," Hewy replies. "Oh, so you two have really gotten to know each other?" Nolan was looking for details, but right now Hewy had a job to do, "Maybe later we can talk about it?" "Oh right, I forgot," Nolan says, "you're `on duty'." Though, he wondered how much deviation from Hewy's duties was part of his morning working hours. "Nolan, I'd like you to meet a couple of people," Bill Speed sped up to him, taking him by the shoulder. Nolan was sure he would not remember the names, as Bill read them off, like he was reading from a list, but wasn't, instead a hand conducting the introductions, "We have here Dr. Maurice Finale, Atmospheric Chemistry, Dr. Bruce Cannon, Biogeochemistry, Dr. David Grace, Contaminant Fate And Transport, Dr. Charles Moffit, Global Climate Change, Dr. Lawrence Law, GIS Applications, De. Terence Walker, who heads up not only the Meteorology and climatology departments at Elemental Habitat College, but the habitat weather station and there's Dr. Tom Wu, Applied Ecology, Dr. Rick Waddle, Conservation Biology, Dr. Aaron Burr, Forest Ecology, Dr. Stone birch, environmental chemistry, Dr. Geoff Quayle, Limnology and aquatic ecology..." "Aquatics?" Nolan cuts in. "Then you must know of Gavin Roberts?" Up until now, little did Nolan guess, when Bill Speed told the concensus of professors at Elemental Habitat College, of Nolan's impending takeover at the helm of the habitat, they joked, unimpressed about a CEO of some importing firm with no knowledge of environmental studies. However, ears had just perked up. Dr. Quayle inquires, "You've read his book?" Suddenly, Bill Speed and the rest of the introductions were out of the picture, the fourteen academic professionals gathering around Nolan as if he suddenly gained star status! "Tried," Nolan replied with humor, "but gentlemen, I'm sure all of you are crackerjacks at science lingo, more so than I am." The heightened excitement of the possibility of chatting with Nolan on their terms, suddenly dissipates. "However, upon speaking with Gavin, I think..." Dr. Quayle, unappointed spokesperson for the group, with renewed interest asks, "You know Dr. Roberts personally?" He never mentioned it, after meeting Yarmon two years ago, how he and Gavin hit it off both as professionals and friends, heading down the shore, hooking up with some guys for some friendly beach volleyball, hitting the Stone Pony for drinks and late night entertainment, then some sensual play between the sheets, it going on every night for a week, until Gavin had to head off to Wood's Hole. "I guess you can say that," Nolan replies, a smile on his face while the bunch observed a moment of silence. Breaking it, Nolan adds, "It was entirely an accident I met up with Gavin at all. If it hadn't been for my good friend, Yarmon Konnek..." Another bell rings from the small enclave of professors, "Not Yarmon Konnek? The sculptor, from New Zealand?" It came from the mouth of Dr. Stone Birch. Nolan could tell by the accent, he was from the land down under, but wondered, by the sexy good looks and rust-colored bear, how he fared in another world `down under'? "I think we're speaking of the same person? He's from Hawke's Bay?" "That's him," Stone replies, going on, "I have quite a collection of his sculptures in my back yard and admire him greatly for his restorations." There! Nolan had scored two points, at least, the others seeming to wholeheartedly accept him as a newcomer, which in some places could be tough to break in. Even though he wanted to stay in eye contact with Hewy, Nolan accepted the invitation to join the EHC staff in their private dining room. % Checking at the lunch room door, Art Smith wanted his daily tally, studying the spitout of the computer near the door, where persons entering, dipped their `dog tag' into the slot, telling him they were present. Checking the laptop file, he came up `two missing', James Houten and Samuele Beird. Thinking it over, it suddenly dawned on him, the stranger name of the two, Houten, thinking back to hours ago, meeting him as he stepped from his room with Laurent Cointreaux. It made him smile, thinking Houten, like Beird, were no exceptions to the rules around here. Glancing down to his computer file, he notices a coincidental fact, Houten employed at the bike'n'hike facility and Beird working the North Field, which would place him at the same facility. Thinking of what he would find, surprising the two, instead he saved his thoughts for later. After all, first congregational meal since the new members of the EH community have arrived, he had to say his little speech. Thinking of it, highlighted Houten's and Beird's infraction and printed off a copy, which show neither of them reporting at the specified time for lunch. Tearing the sheet off and walking away, it still stirred up his loins, thinking of a showdown with the hot studs. He knew he could have a problem with Beird, but Houten was new to EH and the means by which he conducts disciplining. It made his cock pulse, thinking of having James all bound up and ready for a hot whipping! % Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee `CoMPany payLoaD' - RancH HanDs may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.