Date: Sun, 21 Aug 2005 18:20:02 -0600 From: Roy Subject: Phalen, chaper 8 - College section This story contains portrayals of homosexual actions and lifestyles. There may be references to, or explicit descriptions of, sex between consenting adults. If homosexuality, sexually explicit language, or swearing offends you, or if reading material that contains these topics violates any law or personal or religious beliefs, you must exit now without proceeding further. If you are under 18 years of age, do not read this story. This story is entirely fictional, and any resemblances to actual persons are completely coincidental. Actual locations are used, but serve only as 'backgrounds' for the story. Roy roynm@mac.com Chapter 8 "Jeff, I swear, are you determined to feel bad? It's like you enjoy it! You've been miserable for so long, you can't imagine any other way to feel." Phalen had been urging me to get up and 'do something' all day. Now, he was giving vent to his frustration at my inaction by pacing back and forth across my office, his voice rising as he spoke. "It doesn't seem as if you're even trying to do anything to help yourself," he said, stopping in front of me, hands on hips. "I am, Phalen," I said, raising my voice to match his. I was frustrated too. In the couple weeks since I spoke to Phalen and his father, I had hardly noticed any difference in how I was feeling. Clearly, something more was needed. I didn't know what. "How? Show me how you're trying to get better. Surely, it can't be by sitting in a dark office, staring at your screensaver. It's not going to help you solve your problems!" Phalen resumed his pacing, his voice rising with each circuit of the dimly lit room. I knew he was correct, but I didn't know what steps I needed to take to help myself. Phalen's pressure was making my frustration that much worse. "You don't know anything about it," I shouted. "I'm trying to figure out what to do, so back off!" "No, I can't back off," he shouted back, facing me, with his hands on his hips. "That's an easy way out for you. If everyone backs off, then you can go on thinking you're doing something to help yourself. Well, I'm not backing off, and you're not doing anything. The first thing you need to do is to get your cute butt off that chair and out of this dark room. No wonder you're depressed. This place is like some sort of tomb! Once we're out in the sunshine we can figure out what we need to do to help you." "Cute butt? Does that mean you're not mad at me?" I said, moderating my voice slightly. "And, why are we shouting at each other?" "I'm angry and frustrated. I don't know why you're yelling," he shouted from across the room. Yes, cute butt --- and cute everything else as well. I'm frustrated because it doesn't look like you're trying to help yourself. And, you're right. I *don't* know what you're going through. So, *tell* me! I'm ready to listen. --- You need to talk Jeff, either to me or to a professional. I don't care which. You've spent your entire life holding things in, and look where it got you! You've felt miserable since --- forever. It's time to stop feeling bad and join the rest of us. Life is supposed to be fun." He spread his arms wide. "You're sure as hell not having a good time, and when you're hurting, I hurt. --- Damn it Jeff. I don't like watching you in pain. It's driving me nuts," he added, running his fingers through his hair, then shaking his head as he rubbed his eyes. "Damn, who's that," Phalen shouted, turning to glare at the front door and its offending doorbell. He stalked away, muttering to himself and waving his arms. I walked out to the living room, squinting at the bright sunlight. After a moment, I looked up to see Phalen and Kerin crossing the courtyard, heading back inside. Phalen was continuing his animated talk, obviously as disturbed as ever. " . . . referee." I heard the end of Kerin's sentence as they came inside. "Hi Jeff," Kerin said, smiling. "I could hear Phalen yelling clear outside, so I thought I'd bring food and we could sit down and talk and not scare the neighbors with all the shouting." He grinned. "Actually, I already had the food with me, but we can still talk without yelling at each other. --- I didn't think you guys argued." He looked at each of us in turn. "We're not arguing, Kerin," I said. "You're not. I am," said Phalen, crossing his arms, looking disgusted, but standing still for a change. "That's interesting, Phalen. I've never seen anyone have a one-sided argument before. Maybe you can show me how it's done after we eat." Phalen appeared ready to interrupt. Kerin held up his hand, indicating that he wanted Phalen to be quiet. "I don't care if you've already eaten, you're doing it again," Kerin said, gesturing to the large bag he had carried into the house. "I brought along a big salad for each of us, so get us a fork and be civil to each other. First, though, I want a hug from both of you." He looked at Phalen for a moment. "Phalen, do you need instructions on how to give a hug? --- First, you have to uncross your arms, and then you put them around me. *Then* you squeeze." "I know how," Phalen grumbled. "Then what are you waiting for? Most people would jump at the chance to give me a squeeze, and you're just standing there." Kerin stepped over to Phalen and physically uncrossed his arms and then placed them on either side of himself. "Now, squeeze --- gently. I don't need to be impressed with your strength!" Phalen gave a halfhearted squeeze. "Now, a kiss --- on the cheek," Kerin suggested. Phalen dutifully gave him a peck on the cheek and backed away. "Satisfied?" "With the hug, yes, with the attitude, no," Kerin said, turning toward me. "Your turn, Jeff." I stood up and took Kerin in my arms, thankful to not be shouting any longer. I gave him a long hug, then a kiss on the cheek. I continued to hold him for a few moments longer, amazed at how different hugging Kerin was from hugging Phalen. "Okay, Jeff. Back up. You're standing so close I'll go cross-eyed. Besides, you'll get a back problem bending down to hold me like that. Geez, I didn't know you were so much taller than me. I'm staring at your nose. And don't tell me I'm supposed to kiss you with my eyes closed. I like to know what's going on when someone is getting intimate! Who knows what a guy like you might try," he said, playfully nudging me as he picked up the bag containing our meal, from the floor. "Now, before we eat I want you guys to hug each other. --- Like you mean it, Phalen!" he said, giving Phalen a swat on the butt, urging him into my arms. Reluctantly at first, Phalen took me in his arms and hugged me. After a moment, he relaxed then looked up at me and said, "I love you big man. Sorry 'bout the shouting." "I know. --- Sometimes that's what it takes to get me moving," I murmured in his ear. "I promise I'll get some professional help so we can both feel better. Deal?" "Deal," he said, pulling me closer and patting me on the back. I kissed him again, then took his hand as we all walked into the dining room. "That's better guys," Kerin said, sitting down and digging into his salad. "Now, why all the noise?" He continued chewing as he looked up, turning to Phalen and raising his eyebrows in inquiry when Phalen remained silent. Phalen looked at me. Kerin turned to look at me for an answer. "Jeff?" "Kerin, Phalen was telling me I needed to take some action to help myself." "You need help?" I nodded. Phalen looked down, toying with his salad. "Kerin, I behave weird sometimes, because of some of those things that happened to me in my childhood. They kind of take control of me. ---Phalen was telling me I need to do something about it. I guess I've been wallowing in self-pity. The trouble is," I said, shaking my head, "I don't know how to proceed. No one's ever given me a set of plans to show me how to get out of this hole." Kerin had stopped moving, his fork half way to his mouth. He looked first at Phalen, and then turned to me. He laid down his fork, and reached out to squeeze my hand. "I'm not doing enough to stop the nightmares," I said, while Kerin continued to hold my hand. "Phalen's right about me needing help. I jump when I'm touched unexpectedly. I cringe when I hear people laughing, thinking they're laughing at me. Smells even bring back the memories. The nightmares have gotten better since I've begun to talk about things, but recently I've made life pretty rough for both Phalen and me." The three of us sat in silence for a few moments, the salads ignored. "Jeff, you were a victim of something no one should have to endure," Kerin began, speaking slowly. "Your experiences changed your life. Don't let those experiences continue to play the role they've been playing. Stop being a victim!" He slapped the table, making Phalen and me jump. "Good, you're paying attention," he said with a grin. "Jeff, you're no longer the little boy that was hurt. If need be, you can defend yourself now. You have the strength to take control. "When you stop thinking of yourself as a victim, you can control your future. When you take control of your future, you will start looking at your past differently. --- Jeff, I've heard it said that we can't go forward in life until we let go of our past failures and heartaches. "Phalen, Thian and I are always here for you, but all we can do is tell you how much we care for you, and be there when you need to talk. Only *you* can confront those demons." "Kerin, those men laughed at me when I struggled. Every time it's quiet, I still hear them. Sometimes, when someone touches me unexpectedly, I think it's them. It's a reflex. Is taking control going to stop how I react to those things --- and the nightmares?" "I think it will --- eventually. Take charge, Jeff! Don't sit around living in fear. Things will only get worse if you do. Pretty soon, you'll think *everyone* is your enemy, and you'll never come out of your dark room." I thought for a moment, as Phalen took my hand and began running his thumb over my palm. 'I love Phalen's touch,' I thought --- and Kerin's, when I hugged him earlier. I realized I wanted to be touched more, and to not be afraid when someone laughed. I wanted to be able to hold another person --- and more importantly, I wanted to be held. I realized I had not only been living in fear, but had been starving myself by denying my need for physical contact. I was like a man who has been turning away offers of help, while dying of thirst. By denying my needs, I was more like my parents than I cared to think. Phalen was right when he tried to get me out of the house. Kerin was right when he urged me to take charge. I wasn't sure, exactly, how these changes would be accomplished, but at least I now had words to put to what needed to be done. And the thought that I might become as emotionless as my parents was a frightening thought, and one that would definitely get me moving. "Thank you, Kerin." "For what?" he said, grinning. "I'm running on at the mouth. I do that a lot." He paused a moment, continuing to look me in the eyes. "You're a smart guy, Jeff. You won't have any trouble figuring out what you should do. All of us will support you over those rough spots, but only you can start out on the road to regain control of your life." He glanced at Phalen, then turned back to me. "Earlier, Phalen was trying to get you started on that road. A little loudly, I must say, but his intentions were good." He grinned at Phalen. "If I had to take a trip, I can't think of a person I'd rather have by my side. Remember, I'm always available to give you a hug --- if Phalen falls down on the job." He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, watching us for a moment. "Someone holding you and offering a few kind words can work wonders, ya know." Kerin abruptly stood up, ready to leave. He looked at the empty container which had once held his salad. "Well, my good deed is done for the day. I brought lunch. I'll let you guys clean up. I've got to study. Thian won't leave me alone when I get home. 'Course, who can blame him?" he said laughing, striking a pose and flexing his biceps before turning to leave. Kerin turned back to us after taking only a couple steps. "One last thing, Jeff. When you hear people laughing, they're *not* laughing at you. --- They're only having a good time. Probably someone told one of my jokes! --- No one can ever come up with their own material, I swear!" He turned, closed the front door behind him, and waved through the windows, as he crossed the courtyard. "Smart guy," I said, looking at Phalen, "just like the sexy man I live with. I'll have to start listening to that lover-guy more often, don't you think?" "Yep," Phalen said, standing up and walking around the table to bend over and hold me close. "But it's not nice when he shouts. He should learn a little self control." During the next few weeks, I did start to feel better. Perhaps it was because I had taken Phalen's suggestion and had begun seeing a counselor, a rugged looking guy that oozed masculinity. In fact, he oozed so much I was surprised there wasn't a wet spot on the carpet, sort of a puddle of masculinity. In addition to being great to look at, he was attentive, and it was nice to have a totally impartial person with whom to speak. It was strange. I noticed that I seemed to have more self-confidence and felt less tentative, after each session with Andrew, my counselor. I knew that I had a very long way to go in my treatment, but I was beginning to feel at ease, like I did when I was in front of an architectural jury-panel. It was a new sensation for me, and one that I found exhilarating. I felt good enough to begin making plans for a weekend away with Phalen, where I intended to give him the ring that I had told him about a few months before. I wanted it to be a total surprise. I was almost squirming; I was so excited, anticipating Phalen's response. "Guess who's home?" Phalen shouted, coming into the house. "Out here," I yelled from the patio, smiling when he came outside, still carrying his books. "Hey handsome," I said, as he leaned over to kiss me. I pulled him closer while we kissed, inhaling the smell of Phalen, an intoxicating spicy scent. "Hmm, I've been wanting to do that all day long," he said next to my ear as he stood behind me, leaning over, his chin almost resting on my shoulder. "Watcha working on?" "My project. It's due next week. Then I'll be finished." "Hooray," he murmured, before he began to lick my ear. "Then you can pay attention to me. I want some time for just the two of us, with no doorbells or telephone calls or visitors, or anything else." "Oh?" "Yeah, where we don't have to do anything special. You know, where we can kick back and do nothing. --- I like the do nothing part best," he said, smiling, as he moved around the table to face me. "I've got an idea," I said, as if the thought had only now occurred to me. "Let's go out to eat tomorrow evening --- someplace really nice." "Sure," Phalen said. "Where?" "I'll think of something." I was quiet for a moment, then looked up. "I know! Since we were talking about formal wear, let's go someplace where we can wear a suit." Phalen gave me a puzzled look. I guess he was wondering when we had been speaking about formal wear. He seemed to think a moment, then realized what I had said. "Suit! That means I have to wear underwear, doesn't it?" He, got a distant look for a few moments, then looked back at me. "I don't know if I can find any underwear! Do I have to? I hate underwear." "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to cancel our reservations. My lover can't find his underwear," I said, pretending to call the restaurant. "I bet they never had a cancellation like that!" "I know. I'll wear my black jock. That's kinda formal, isn't it? Besides, you don't have any underwear either --- do you?" Phalen looked at me with a wide smile. "At least *I* wear a jock," he joked. "Some people walk around with everything swaying side-to-side with every step. Those kind of people, like to show off what they've got, huh?" He grinned at me when I blushed. "I wear a jock, sometimes," I couldn't help but smile at his description of me swaying side to side. "Besides, nothing sways. Everything is held in place. You've got a suit, don't you?" "Yep. I take it we're not going to the hamburger place you like so much." "Nope, they'd kick us out if we wore a suit in there! We're going someplace nice. Now, go make an appointment to get a haircut and whatever, then finish your homework. We'll have fun tomorrow," I said, continuing to hold his hand across the table, and running my fingers lightly over his palm. I smiled when he got the distracted dreamy look in his eyes that he always gets when losing himself in his sensations. "How can I go do my homework? I'm getting stiff from you playing with my hand like that." Phalen opened his eyes and studied me for a few moments as I continued to rub his hands. "What's going on, Jeff? Something's different about you lately. I can't figure it out. --- And you know how I don't like puzzles!" he said in an artificially deep voice, before starting to giggle. "Nothing's changed, lover. Now, go do your homework." "Okay, but now I'm horny," he moaned. "How am I supposed to get anything done? Something's gonna be in the way, between me and my keyboard." "Oh?" I took his hand, pulling him close. "I think I know the cure for the horny part," I said, undoing his belt, and lowering his zipper. "Yep, something's definitely different about you," he moaned, running his fingers through my hair, spreading his legs further apart, and thrusting his hips forward. I freed his penis, and then slowly licked the pre cum-covered tip. I not only savored Phalen's scent, but his taste, and how his penis throbbed in my mouth, evidence of his racing heartbeat. "Ummm," I moaned, taking the length of his shaft down my throat, burying my nose in his pubic hair. Phalen gasped and held my head while I milked his cock, slowly sliding up and down its length. My tongue and throat muscles eliciting a surprising range of sound effects. I pushed his shorts and jock down far enough that I was able to massage his muscular cheeks while I worked on his cock. The harder I squeezed each cheek the louder he would moan, until finally, with one last squeeze and a finger lightly brushing against his hole, he began to shoot his load down my throat, making animal-like sounds and gasping for breath. "Fuck, that was fantastic," he moaned, continuing to run his fingers through my hair while I urged the last few drops from his slowly deflating penis. Now I wanna take a nap," he said, yawning. "Nope, it's off to do homework, so we can play tomorrow," I said, turning him around and giving him a gentle push into the house. I silently laughed as I watched him walk across the living room to his office. He was trying to keep his shorts and jock from falling down, leaving his bare butt exposed, flexing with each step. At the same time he was attempting to juggle his schoolbooks. "Don't laugh!" he shouted, laughing at his own struggles. "This was all your fault." "Remember --- the haircut," I shouted back. "Yeah, yeah . . . " "Phalen, you're taking all afternoon to get dressed. How much time does it take to put on a pair of pants and a shirt? Don't tell me they made a mess of cutting your hair and ended up shaving it all off, or something," I teased, yelling at him through the bathroom door. Both of us had spent a good portion of the day at our respective barbers. Barber wasn't actually the correct description. Those guys worked on everything, top to bottom. I told them I was going someplace really special with my boyfriend and they had to make me look good. When I mentioned my boyfriend, their eyes lit up and they went to work. I got a total make over. When they finished with me, I hardly recognized myself in the mirror. Now, if only I could fix myself up like that every morning, I'd be pleased. Of course, even if I knew what I was doing, I didn't have a few hours to accomplish a daily make over. Phalen was already in the bathroom when I came home and hadn't seen my transformation. I had changed into my suit, trying to whistle while I dressed. It was just as well Phalen was in the bathroom. Whenever I tried to whistle, he covered his ears and howled like a disturbed dog. He did the same thing when I tried to sing. Subtlety was never one of Phalen's virtues. It was getting late and he was still in the bathroom. I thought he was alone, but I wasn't sure. There was a lot of talking going on behind the door. "Phalen, are you alright?" I shouted, knocking on the door a couple times. Phalen slowly opened the bathroom door and shyly came out to stand in front of me. "Do I look okay?" he asked, holding his arms out and turning around to be inspected. I was stunned. I guess I was standing with my mouth open, because Phalen began to get anxious. "What have I got wrong? I can go change real fast if I'm not dressy enough. --- Jeff, say something! I knew I shouldn't have let those guys put those streaks in my hair. I'm right, aren't I?" he said, becoming more agitated. "It's too late to change that," he continued, looking around, as if a solution to his imagined problems might be hiding nearby. "Don't do *anything!* You're perfect. Phalen, you look like one of those models from a fashion magazine. Everyone's going to be sooo jealous of me," I said, taking him by the shoulders and pressing a finger against his lips to stop his talking. "You're sweet, Jeff. All I've done is put on a suit, except for the hair and some other stuff," he said after licking my finger. "And what a suit it is." Phalen was wearing a light grey linen suit, a white shirt and burgundy tie with small polka dots. His shoes even matched the suit. Phalen hated wrinkled clothes, so there wasn't a wrinkle to be found - an accomplishment when wearing a linen suit. "You've done a lot more than dress up! Wherever you went this morning, they did more than cut your hair." "Yeah, I told 'em to give me the full treatment," he shrugged. He counted off on his fingers what had been done to him. "I've been cut, colored, lightened, prodded, pampered, trimmed, teased, flattered and had everything held up with tons of gel. Personally, I think I look like I just got out of bed, but they told me to not touch *anything* until I go to bed tonight. You suppose whatever they did to me will run, or smear or something? They didn't tell me what would happen if it rains." --- He was quiet for a moment, and then looked at me, frowning slightly. "It *is* cloudy. I hope it doesn't rain. "I feel like Cinderella," he said miming an attempt to shelter himself from the rain. "'Quick, get me home, my hair will go limp if I'm out past midnight!'," he laughed. "Oh, and don't let me get wet --- I think I may melt." He giggled, reaching out to turn me around, inspecting my transformation. "Besides, look at you! Like I said before, you are freeking beautiful. The guys must have gotten to you with the gel stuff too. You suppose this just-out-of-bed look is popular? I bet I'm not supposed to touch you, am I? "They even told me not to sit down! Imagine. We're going to dinner. Am I supposed to eat standing up? And I've got to drive. I can't do that standing up." "You're not driving tonight, Phalen," I said, putting my arm around his shoulders, guiding him toward the front door. "We're being picked up. In fact, as we've been talking, I think I saw the car pull up." "Who are we going with?" Phalen asked, heading across the courtyard. When I turned around from locking the courtyard door, I noticed Phalen staring at the street with his mouth open. "Jeff, that's a limo!" he whispered, leaning closer. "Looks like it to me. The driver's waiting for us. Let's get this show on the road," I said, grinning, and giving him a gentle push toward the limousine. "Good evening, Mr. Weston," the driver said, as he opened the door for Phalen. "And to you, Mr. Layson." "Hi," Phalen said meekly, before getting into the car, still stunned. I nodded a greeting to the driver, and smiled at Phalen's reaction. I got in, and sat back in the plush seat, prepared to enjoy the ride to Scottsdale. As the car moved away from the curb, Phalen moved over to me and brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. "I'd give you a kiss on the lips, but the guys told me I shouldn't mess around until after dinner. You'd think I'm going to smear. He was quiet for a few moments, and then looked back at me. "I don't like it when I can't touch you. Here I am, sitting with the sexiest guy around, and I can't touch him! I spent eighteen years not being able to touch, and I don't like it any more now than I did then. "Jeff, a limousine! -- Why?" "I didn't want either of us to have to drive. We're going first class tonight, Phalen. Only the best, for the man I love." I patted the seat next to me. "C'mon, sit close to me. Let me hold your hand while someone else worries about traffic." The ride across town to Scottsdale took only about thirty minutes. At first, Phalen was content to sit next to me holding my hand, but it wasn't long before he was thinking of what he would tell his father and his friends at school about his limousine adventure. This was a first for me as well, but my primary source of pleasure was watching and listening to Phalen. "I can't sit still, Jeff." Phalen moved to the seat facing me and the back of the car. "This is *so* cool!" He practically bounced on the seats, before joining me once again and taking my hand while continuing to look out of the windows. "Where are we going? It must be someplace pretty nice for us to show up in a limo. Probably not McDonalds, huh?" He moved closer to the window, looking around with his mouth open. "Nope, this is definitely not McDonalds," he said, as we pulled into the grounds of the Phoenician resort. We were driving toward the main building between rows of date palms set in acres of manicured lawn punctuated with lakes and mounds of flowers. Phalen was quiet, leaning close to the car window, not wanting to miss anything. The limousine came to a slow stop. Phalen reached for the door handle. I stopped him, whispering, "That's the driver's job." "Oh," he whispered, sitting back in his seat, trying to appear calm. The driver came around the car and opened our door, giving Phalen an indulgent smile when he stepped out. Phalen grinned, excited by the adventure he was having. "I feel like a movie star, Jeff," he said, looking around, as I thanked the driver and joined him. The doorman welcomed us as he opened the doors. I nearly ran into Phalen, who had stopped immediately after entering the lobby. He was looking up to the high ceiling and out through the huge floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the golf course and lakes. "Wow! This place is awesome," he said in a hushed voice, looking around, trying to see everything at once. "I wonder why the tables are so tall?" he mused, walking over to a table, which held a flower arrangement that must have been five feet tall. The table was higher than Phalen's waist. "No one ever eats at this table I bet," he whispered, looking up at the arrangement. "I guess someone has to stand on the table to put flowers in the vase, huh?" He casually rubbed his hand over the table's stone surface, having a difficult time to stop himself from looking for footprints on the tabletop. "Jeff, look at all the marble on the floor!" he said, reluctantly looking away from the table. "Wouldn't it be fun to run and slide on it in your stocking feet? I liked to do that when I was a kid." "How old were you when you did it the last time?" I asked, assuming he would tell me he was six or seven. "I was seventeen. The principal didn't believe I was demonstrating a slide into third base --- probably 'cause I 'bout knocked him down. I normally have more control than that. I wonder what went wrong." He shrugged. "Everyone thought it was cool," he said, pleased with himself. "Seventeen!" "Yeah, a long time ago. The school's floors aren't marble, though. I'll bet I could really slide on these. --- Don't look at me like that," he said, turning to me and grinning. "Didn't you ever run and slide on slippery floors?" "No, I did it on ice," I said, thinking back to the cold winters of my childhood. "Oh. I never saw that much ice. It would probably work," he mused as we continued to walk through the lobby. "Wow, look at all of this stuff!" he said, stopping to turn around, looking at all of the pieces of sculpture and other art that filled the room. "I'd really hate to be the one to dust it all," he whispered, leaning close to me. I could barely keep from laughing. Most people would admire the individual pieces of sculpture. Phalen didn't think about the art. He was worried about how difficult they would be to clean. I grinned, and watched him stop to look at a very large painting. He turned to me. "That picture is crooked," he said, seriously. "Someone should fix it." He began walking toward the painting, with an intent look on his face. "Phalen, don't touch it," I said, trying not to say it loud enough to draw attention to him, but he only leaned close to examine the thing. I admired how he looked --- an athlete, as confident in a suit and tie as in his baseball uniform. He moved with a sense of confidence most people only dream of. At the same time, his sense of wonder was that of a little boy, constantly being amazed at his surroundings and excited by each new discovery. The barber, or whoever he had gone to earlier in the day, had cut his black hair and added highlights. He was stunning, and was all the more so because he didn't realize it. I always enjoyed watching people when they met Phalen. Some would stare, while others would stammer. Very few were unaffected by his good looks. Then he would smile, and they would loose track of what they had been talking about. It was always nice to see he affected others in the same way he affects me. He smiled brightly at two passing young ladies, as he walked back to join me. They stopped to watch him, two more conquests. "Jeff, that's not a painting," he said as he reached me, still oblivious to the effect he had on the two women, who were whispering to each other. "There are lots of little things stuck on a board. It just looks like a painting when you back up. --- Really cool." He turned back to the painting, looking clear through the two women standing in front of it. "I wish someone would straighten it, though." He finally realized that the two young women were standing still, watching us. He smiled again, causing them to giggle like a couple of schoolgirls. "I wonder what they're looking at," he muttered as we moved on. "They're probably thinking how lucky I am to be with you," he said after a moment, glancing at me. "You really look nice." The restaurant was even more than I expected, especially the terrace. We'd had a cloudy day, so it wasn't quite so hot, and as if on cue, the moment we followed our host outside, the sun dipped behind the mountains and the clouds became fluorescent, orange and yellow against a pink sky. Our table was beneath an arbor, trailing long stems of bougainvillea. The slight breeze caused the bright blossoms to sway, and the flickering candle to cast moving shadows on Phalen's face whenever he glanced at me. The sounds of the distant fountains mixed with the songs of the nightingales and of the string quartet, playing across the terrace. "This is nice," Phalen said when he finished his meal. You wanted special, Jeff. This definitely fits the bill. He got quiet for a moment. "Are you doing okay? You're being quiet." "Phalen, I wanted us to come someplace special tonight," I said, trying to think of all the things I wanted to say. "If it was legal, I'd be asking you to marry me. But until we're allowed to do that, I want to tell you how very, very much I love you." I took another deep breath, failing to notice how quiet people at tables close to us had become. "In the past couple months you have made me happier than I have ever been. I always heard about people falling in love. I never thought it could happen to me, but it has, and I'm a different man today because of it. "I have to admit, if it were legal for me to ask you to marry me, I would be asking you for purely selfish reasons. Phalen, you have become the anchor my life has been missing. You have taught me to know myself with your humor, your smile, and your insight into my soul. You have made me see myself for what I have been, and provided me your support in my efforts to become the kind of person I would like to be." Phalen looked down, the slight breeze ruffling his hair and causing the candles on our table to flicker. "If I could, I would be asking you to marry me because I am selfish. I can not imagine my life without you in it." I stopped a moment, nearly overcome with the emotions I was struggling to subdue. I swallowed once, then again. "Please, Phalen. Would you spend the rest of your life with me?" I asked, managing to keep my voice from shaking. "I want to see your smile every day, and listen to you laugh. I want to feel you next to me every night, and wake up each morning knowing you'll be with me." I bit my lip, unable to say anything more. Phalen looked at me, blinking his misty eyes and breathing deeply through his open mouth. I remembered how he said his emotions ran close to the surface. He thought those emotions a flaw, that they made him somehow less masculine. I thought they were wonderful, but I did feel a little guilty subjecting him to my feelings in public, knowing he might have a difficult time to keep from crying. He took another ragged breath and unclenched his fingers, freeing his napkin, before unconsciously smoothing the wrinkled cloth. I could easily imagine him apologizing to someone for making a mess of the napkin. I tried not to grin at the thought as he sought to gain control of his emotions. He started to lift his water goblet, to take a drink, but returned it to the table when he realized he wasn't very steady. He looked down for a moment, not meeting my eyes. Finally, he looked up and grinned. "Jeff, I don't know what to say," he said, only slightly stammering, "other than to tell you how much I love you, and I can't imagine sharing my life with anyone else." Phalen reached across the table and took my hand, raising it to his lips, and kissed it. "Thank you, Jeff." He looked at me for a moment, and then smiled, his deep blue eyes sparkling with either unshed tears or humor, I couldn't tell. "If you were able to ask me to marry you, I would accept." I dug in my jacket pocket for a moment, bringing out a little jeweler's box. Phalen's eyes got big as he watched me open the box and take out the ring I had bought when I realized the depth of my feelings. I reached across the table, taking his hand. "Phalen, please wear this ring, and remember each time you look at it how much you mean to me. It says, 'Mina rakastan sinua Phalen,' on the inside, so my declaration of love will always be touching you." When I slipped the ring on his finger, he didn't have time to say anything before the wait staff and many of the other diners around us began applauding. I was stunned, both by the sudden noise and by the realization that our private moment hadn't actually been very private after all. It appeared Phalen and I had much of the restaurant joining our celebration. I had been so caught up in what I was doing, I failed to realize the musicians had stopped playing, conversations had stopped, and the restaurant had come to a halt, around us. After the applause, the music and conversations resumed. I wondered if everyone had heard what I said. After an initial moment of anxiety, I realized that I hoped they *had* heard. I was happier than I could ever recall. In the few moments I was thinking about our audience and Phalen examined his ring, our waiter brought a bottle of champagne to our table, ignoring the fact that Phalen was only eighteen. He proceeded to open the bottle with a flourish and presented glasses to us with compliments of the wait staff that had been watching us all evening. "We've never done anything like this before, but we knew from the way you guys were acting something big was going on, so we were prepared," he said, grinning. "Besides, half of us wish our partners would do for us what you guys are doing tonight," he said, shaking our hands and congratulating us. It was only after we had each finished a glass of champagne that I realized everyone who passed our table smiled as they passed. A few of them even stopped to congratulate us as they left the terrace. When we were finished with dessert and were talking, a member of the staff introduced himself and offered to show us to our room. "Our room?" Phalen asked, as we stood up and he folded his napkin, stroking it a couple more times in a losing effort to smooth out the wrinkles. "Aren't we going home?" "Not tonight. Remember, this is special," I reminded him. "What about our clothes and stuff?" he whispered as we followed the man out of the restaurant. "Jeff, we didn't pay for dinner." He stopped following me, turning back to the restaurant to see if someone was pursuing us. "Yes we did," I said, trying to soothe him. "Everything is taken care of. Don't lag behind now. We don't want to lose our guide. We'd never find our room. This place is huge. Besides, he has the key." We were escorted along a path, across a wide expanse of lawn to a cluster of small buildings. The escort opened the door to the most isolated building and stepped aside for us to enter. "Enjoy your stay, gentlemen," he said, as I tipped him. "The Phoenician is pleased to have you stay with us." Phalen stood in the entry, looking around. When the door closed, he turned to me wide-eyed. "Jeff, this isn't a hotel room. It's a fricking *house*! Motel 6 was never like this," he laughed, as he put his arms around me and gave me a kiss, holding me close. "I can kiss you now, can't I?" he mumbled, as he nuzzled my neck and rubbed his hands over my back. He looked up suddenly. "Wait, Jeff, What about our clothes and things?" "Everything's already here. You never missed anything, did you? I've been gathering everything for a couple days, and had our bags delivered over here yesterday. I've been planning this for weeks. Are you surprised?" I asked, delighted to watch his reactions. "Surprised isn't the word for it," Phalen said, continuing to hug me. He wrapped his arm around my waist and was a kid again. "Let's go explore this place! It's huge." He urged me further into the suite. "It's the honeymoon casita, I'm told. Casita means small house in Spanish, in case you were sleeping during your Spanish lesson that day. They told me they had never rented the honeymoon casita to two guys, but the Director of Romance told them to do it." "Director of Romance? Jeff, you're making this up." "No, I'm serious. They have a guy who is in charge of romantic dinners and getaways. He likes roses. Rose petals in bathwater, that sort of thing. I nixed the idea. He was hurt, but I told him we take showers, not baths. He didn't seem very pleased, and sniffed after repeating the word 'shower.'" The Director was not to be denied, we found as we entered the living room. Two tables each held a huge vase of red roses. "We'll have to thank that Director-guy," Phalen said, straightening up after smelling them. "They *are* pretty, though I'm glad they're not scattered all over. I'd want to pick them up to keep the carpets clean," he said sheepishly. "Let's look outside," Phalen said, opening the sliding glass door to the deck. "Oh, Jeff, this is so beautiful." He gave me another kiss, and continuing to hold me close. "This is almost like a dream, the lake reflecting those palm trees, and those little lights up in the leaves. They're almost like fire flies, aren't they? "Where's the music coming from?" he asked, looking around. "I don't care," I said, drawing him back to me, and into my arms. "Would you care to dance with me, handsome?" "I didn't know you danced, Jeff," he said, leaning his head on my shoulder as we slowly danced to the music from one of the resort's restaurants. When the music finally stopped he briefly kissed me before he backed up and looked me up and down. "Geez, you're handsome," he said, tightening his arms around my waist. "Thank you for all of this, Jeff. It's all so nice. "How soon do we have to leave tomorrow? Can we go exploring? I bet they have a great pool," he said, in one of his mood swings. "Nine of 'em," I said, but you do have to wear your Speedo at these. Nudity is frowned upon, I understand. And we're not leaving tomorrow. Since Monday is a school holiday, we don't have to be out of here till Monday at noon. "So, Mr. Weston. What's your pleasure? Shall we swim, go for a walk in the garden, or hang out?" "You're serious! I want to get naked and do all the stuff you're supposed to do on a honeymoon. That's what this is, isn't it? We've got the honeymoon suite. I bet it's got a great bed!" he said, walking back inside, looking around for the bedroom. "How many guys do you think have fooled around on it?" he murmured, as he turned to help me out of my jacket. "It's been hours and hours since I've seen you naked, big man." When he had removed my shirt, he began to lightly run his fingers up my sides to my chest, then over my biceps and shoulders, to gently trace the outline of my jaw. Finally he ran his finger tips across my lips. When his movement hesitated, I opened my mouth and licked the tip of a finger. Phalen made a low groaning sound and held his hand still as I slowly sucked on one of his fingers then licked once across the palm of his hand. I looked up as he moved his hand away. He gave me a brief grin and mouthed the words, "I love you," before kissing me again. ~End - Chapter Eight~ Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to comment on this story. I love to hear from you, and appreciate your input and your constructive criticism. If you would like for me to send you a pic of the guys that inspired the main characters in this story, email me. There are a few words and phrases in Finnish that appear in 'Phalen'. Information, which is transmitted in text format, such as this story, when it's uploaded to Nifty, cannot reproduce the punctuation used on a few letters of the Finnish alphabet. I have chosen to use the closest English equivalent. To any Finnish speakers, my apologies. My thanks to Larry S. for his assistance with the Finnish language, his help in proofreading, and for being a good friend. Thanks also to Evan Bradley for his continuing encouragement, and for helping me make 'Phalen' a better story. A number of readers have written asking for the correct pronunciation of the character's names. They are: Phalen (FAY-lin) Kerin (KEAR-in) Thian (THE as in Theater (THE-in) 'mina rakastan sinua (I love you) Thanks for reading. Roy roynm@mac.com