Date: Mon, 8 Jan 2018 01:02:06 +0100 From: TChase McPhee Subject: ?GLaDiaToR EV?ry DaY? o6 % This work of fiction is set in the format of real-world situations. Identifying details to real people, alive or dead, is entirely coincidental in nature. % States and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing `adult material'. It is up to you, the reader, to research this subject, abiding by laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain `adult material', intended for an `adult audience.' Bypass this warning at your own risk! % If sexual scenes involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if dude-to-dude sex stuff makes you wanna barf or is gonna screw up your mind, you should not read this story. % Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt! Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have over the years, consider adding some $upport for `internet $pace' or else I will have to start cutting handsome, hairy or steamy characters out of my stories. Do you dare imagine a story without any tops? http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html % `GLaDiaToR EV'ry DaY' o6 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee % "Um...like..." Ryan began getting shaky nerves, "we `are' headed to that place?" Traveling by foot, with his brother, a guy couldn't trust every offer of a hand of generosity. A man had to choose wisely, or else could wind up in a dangerous place. For instance, some older dude and his buddy, were traveling along a country road, much like Erik, having taken a turn off the main drag. Ryan in the front seat, his brother sat in the back, with the other passenger. He started getting bad vibes about hitching the ride in the first place. Having turned off the interstate, onto a backwoods country road, Ryan began to feel, not only for himself, but John's safety. A good indication, he learned from experience, was to ask the driver to pull over. If refused, Ryan would feel a shiver up the spine, ending at the back of the neck, making hair stand on end. Then, he'd sit up, like a soldier at attention. If Ryan allowed this to pan out, not reacting could lead to consequences. Not only for himself, but putting John at risk. Fortunately, the older dude pulled over and for safety's sake, when the driver complied, Ryan and his brother exited their ride, preferring to hoof it on foot. Whether the situation could have provided reward or consequence, the vehicle having pulled away, Ryan had a sense of calm came over him. Not which he felt he had to, Ryan wanted to just `see', calling out, "quick, Erik," he didn't give his driver time to think, "pull over!" Taking a slight turn of the steering wheel, Erik heads towards the side of the passage, "going to be sick?" he slows the truck tires. With Erik complying without question, Ryan sensed acting on false pretense, that the driver wasn't going to jump him. Or, as he's heard could happen to hitchers, suddenly a hand slapping the back of the neck and the passenger's face forced into the driver's lap. When a dude was as hot as Erik, Ryan's judgement could become clouded. He had nothing against taking a dude's dick between the lips, but more appreciated it being on his own, or mutual terms. Ryan couldn't deny, getting it on with 3 other guys, hormones racing and a rushed approach at relieving a man's pent up emotions. More into the romantic side of sex and under the mutual conditions, with the right guy, he could be quite the aggressive oral lover. Pulling over, Erik came to a dead stop. Reaching in the back, he produced an old shopping bag from Braddock's, "here!" However, Ryan made no attempt to jack the door handle. Sitting there, smiling, he left Erik holding the bag. "I'm okay now." With a sly smile on Ryan's lips, Erik didn't trust it, "want to tell me what that's all about?" It wouldn't be the first time it's happened to Erik. Somewhere along the course of life, he's picked up a hitcher, or two, or three. If a dude asked for him to pull over to the side, that's what he did. At times he's done the same, pulled over and asked for the guy to get out. Not the `hit and run' type, Erik liked foreplay; kissing, slowly working clothes off, going at it from a relaxed angle. Of course, the rushed part, when he and his sex partner's shafts got overheated, things sped up! Respectfully, he would never leave a guy in an abandoned, sinister looking spot, returning to civilization before kicking him to the curb. "We can wait fer later?" Truthfully, Erik had some heightened desires going on and would prefer it, "sure," he threw the truck in gear and headed back on up the upgrade. In no time they were entering the property, through a gateway which was not marked with anything but a crude sign, which read `STOP - private property - wait for the guard'. For the life of him, Ryan could see nothing but dense forest, laden with overgrown bushes, "uh, where's the guard?" Everyone knew the compound was under continual construction. There was more priority over certain areas, than another. Erik responds, still driving, "they haven't gotten there yet." Not really knowing what that meant, Ryan let it slip over his head, but did interject, "nice sign." It was just words, painted on plywood, reason for his mundane response. Then, like a charge of elephants coming out of the bush, Erik steps harshly on the brake, yelling through the windshield, "dammit, guys! Really?" The `elephants', rather stealth `gazelles', made Ryan sit up tall in the saddle, "dam! Guys, is right!" What few knew, even participants, Highland Games training, or simply known as HG, took it's course, beginning at the far end of Magonagle property and participants making the lap around the outskirts of the compound. While Ryan gawked, Erik sat back and enjoyed the view, about 20 glistening bods running across the dirt and gravel road. Ryan did follow one particular dude with his eyes, passing from left to right. He could only smile, feeling Ryan lean across his chest, yell out the drivers side window, "John?" Quick as he smacked Erik in the chest with a shoulder, Ryan retreats. There they were, among the numbers, John and Kelly, possibly the only two who weren't shirtless. Jacking the door, Ryan steps out, on one foot, yelling, "John! Wait up!" Having more fun than in quite a while, running with the pack, John didn't hear his brother's summoning. Assuming, which was the most likely case, Ryan gets back in, "guess he didn't hears me callin'." "That's okay," Erik shifts into gear, even before Ryan's door is slammed shut, "we'll catch up with them on the other side." It did occur to Ryan, `the other side of what,' being they were headed into a dense area of foliage, topped by tall trees and a few evergreens. In a matter of minutes, they were upon an open area. "Oh wow," Ryan says, "I feels like I just come out of a dream!" First thing a person comes upon, is Kelly's abode, which is the replica Jared had built, based on an ancient Scottish castle. Knowing most of the history thus far, Erik replies, "well, I was here before that was here, so I'm able to say, it's not centuries old." Driving past, Ryan questions, "whoever lives here, man, they got it made!" >From the road, a driver got a short glimpse of a gated backyard. The top of a slide, which towered over the pool could be seen. Not feeling an7 harm, Erik says, "Jared's brother, Kelly, lives there. He had it built for him, and yeah, he is a fortunate guy!" Everyone wished they had what the Magonagle brothers possessed, the lifestyle which surrounded them, as they worked and played at the compound. There could be jealousy or other feelings among those who have been taken in, or applied for jobs and gained employment through walking onto the property. Truthfully, back at the store, Ryan was running down that road, but not in the sense of ripping off Jared. On the road, he and John were always looking for a place to spend the night, maybe get some chow in their bellies, but he never let it get to where his brother was in jeopardy. If he had to provide `sex' for `sustenance', it was himself paying the price. Sometimes it tough to tell, if a driver were `gay'. Negotiation could become tricky, when brought back to a house and a female was present. Neither Ryan, nor his brother, got it on with women. John, he thought it was kind of `disgusting', Ryan was with the same opinion. Really, Ryan never thought about sex with a woman, but rather dwell on the guy in front of him. If a compromise could not be worked out, Ryan and John would leave the house they came to, camped out and was hungry for one night. Regardless, the further Erik's truck traveled, the more Ryan viewed, having a feeling everything would be copasetic. "Why'd I tell ya?" No need for Erik to brake, pulling up to a modern looking building, which resembled a castle, he took one of the crudely marked parking spaces, front wheels butted up against a wooden buffer. This time Ryan had no problem catching up with his brother, the stream of single-file runners coming towards them. Passing right in front of them, he jumped out of the truck and allowed the shirtless cue to pass in front, between parking and the building. "John?" he calls out, seeing his brother. A big grin on John's sweaty face, he yells out, "Ryan! Where ya been?" The only two sticking out from the flock, Kelly and John, in shorts, tank tops, socks and sneakers, stood there, running in place. Kelly did acknowledge, "hey, Erik." However, they were both more interested in the other pair of brothers, Erik saying with a smile, "hey." It was a mutual thing, Kelly and Erik knowing this wasn't about themselves. Not to be a target for a fellow runner, Erik taps Ryan on the shoulder, the quad stepping in between parked vehicles, hopping over a `log', to chat. With Erik's short history, Ryan still had tons of questions, "what're you doing?" John includes his new friend, "me and Kelly, we're doing some training." "Training for what?" `Suspicion' was Ryan's `middle name.' Sometimes it could get a guy in trouble, but most of the time, a wise choice to keep out of harm's way. Kelly says, "we gotta go." "I gotta go. Tell ya later," and with a short farewell, "bye!" Erik stood there in his classic pose, foot up on the bumper, arms folded, leaning on an elevated thigh, "c'mon," he drops out of position, "I'll explain it to you as we get you settled in." Walking to the back of the truck, Ryan had no recourse but to follow. With mixed reaction, he wanted to run after John, but he also felt compelled to follow Erik's direction. Erik grabbed one of the packs, chuckling as he says, "follow me." After grabbing the other pack, which he slung over one shoulder, Ryan quickly catches up with Erik, "where we going?" "Here?" Erik acts like it's a stupid question, holding the door. Of course, Ryan was curious, but unlike being led into a strange, country home, off a side street, in no-mans land, he trusted where he was headed, "okay." He expected the usual clause, `oh, I'm thinking about that already,' or some other catchy phrase, which would lead to payment for a bed and grub in the belly, by means of bedtime activity. "Don't thank me. You have your landlord, Jared to thank for what you're about to have bestowed upon you," Erik says, walking straight into the heart of the facility. Outside, the building was known as the `dorms'. It housed anyone who worked at the compound who was not hired via an employment application. Certainly, everyone employed there had to fill out a few pages of inquiry. Some had applied and others were fortunate to walk in `off the street' and happen upon an opportunity they could not refuse. It was a much welcome thing, not to be sleeping out in the wilderness and going hungry. "`I'll remember that, next time I sees him." Right now though, Jared wasn't on Ryan's mind. The hallway, leading into a corridor, which opened into a bunk area, "do me and John get a room?" was his privacy complaint. Erik made it enticing, "those men who ran in front of the truck?" "What of'em?" "I'm sure later on some of them will be using the shower?" With that, Erik pulls open a glass door, "voila! Shower and other amenities!" Very modern and rivaling any 5-star hotel, right at their feet was a large, rounded hot tub. Even more inviting than sharing accommodations, Erik says, "imagination them all jogging in here, stripping off sweaty gear and hopping into a nice, hot tub!" He was `playing Ryan's song', which was spinning a tune round and round in his mind, "where do I got to sign up?" Knowing it would be the case, Erik has never had a decliner, "come with me." Except for a safety exit, there was only one in and out, which they were taking their leave. Instead of heading straight back, Erik led Ryan to his left and outside, into the forest. "Where we going?" Ryan inquires, his suspicious nature kicking in. "The `signup' building," Erik responds. Depending on the guy, Erik would head straight there, or if he wanted to gather more info, take the long trail around. "So, what is it you hope to accomplish for you and your brother, Ryan?" Not as dumb as some guys looked, Ryan wisely says, "we're not here to cause any trouble. I...we hope we could find a place where we could settle down, make a lives for ourselfs." Erik couldn't dispute that logic. Sounded rational. However, Erik dropped interest momentarily, as did Ryan, a bunch of HG recruits running like a pack of horses, right across their path. Right after they had a friendly run in with the HG troops, Ryan exclaims, "dam, just remembered something!" Taking off, no explanation, Erik has no recourse but to put his ass in gear and follow, "wait up a minute, Ryan!" To himself, `like, what the hell is that about?' As he jogged, Erik could think of two things running through Ryan's mind. He couldn't resist the impulse himself, following a flock of hot, sweaty, shirtless guys, but also had an impression, maybe he wanted to catch up to his brother, for whatever reason. Suddenly thought, Erik stops short, hearing himself summoned, "hey, wait up, please?" >From the rear, off to the side, a guy steps out from among some bushes. Like the others, he's clad in short, socks and running shoes. Different from the pack, he has a slight limp. Looking at rear ends and bare backs, Erik had a feeling Ryan would find his own way. Daily influx of personnel, Erik didn't know everyone at the compound, "what happened to you?" "Tripped. Rather than risk getting mowed down, I stepped off the trail." "Right," Erik agrees, having just been confronted with taking Ryan, Kelly and John out of harm's way. Giving the dude a shoulder to lean on, "what they don't need is a pile up!" Erik could not deny, arm over the dude's shoulder, bringing the bearded face a foot away, he wasn't picking up some vibes. "That was my objective." Putting a little weight on his foot, while seeking equilibrium with his helper, "ooh, that's tender." A giddy feeling coming over him, looking down the sweaty chest, bod-trail, Erik jokes, "I guess that would make you a tender-foot!" Not which the tall `Greek-god' wasn't feeling some palpitations himself, in spite of pain, adds a pleasant, "well, thank you so much for stopping and helping me." "I hope I'm more helpful of your needs, getting you over to the first aid station." Erik then thought quick on it, "oh wait. That didn't come out right!" Concern, mixed with compassion, didn't only plague Erik, "I'm Tad. I'm new here. And, what you said, it didn't offend." Okay, so Erik knew then, they were both on the same wavelength, which made him think on what could become long-term plans, "well then, maybe after we take care of that foot, we can go for some supper?" Later on, Erik would think it amazing, how fast he was to speak and not think it through, emotions about digging this guy! % Meanwhile, up the trail quite a ways, the herd of HG troops had left the closed in path, opening up into a field. Ryan had it on his mind to tag John on the shoulder, the view was too breathtaking! "What tha..." his words trail off, as both feet stick to the ground as if cemented there with a glue gun. Ryan took short notice, the sweaty joggers running without stopping, jumping and diving into a lake. More stirring up his emotions were the field of `others', doing all kinds of different physical feats. One guy, who looked like the one in charge, carried a clipboard. What grabbed Ryan's attention, wasn't only the beautiful physique, but the shrill of his whistle. The group of men he commanded had stopped in place, dropping the stones which had clung to their chests. All wearing quilts, topless from the waist up, it was continuation of `man-heaven' for Ryan. What made him smile and stir a groin muscle, one of the athletes had lifted a kilt to `scratch'. It was then, with astonishment Ryan says, "oh my!" How could any gay man resist this assault on the eyes, a long, semi-hard shaft hanging down, over a pair of hefty, hairy orbs?! The place crawling with men, one tags Ryan on the shoulder, "have you registered for the games?" Turning to the side, where he was snuck up on, Ryan's sense of security kicks in, "who in hellfire might you would be?" The attitude came on pretty strong, but Ryan's investigative nature soon relaxed, looking at the baseball-capped inquisitor, eyes traveling from fuzzy chest, down the dark brown stripe and back up. Knowing he was `checked out', "Mark Kat," he nervously taps the clipboard in hand against a thigh. "I guess you might call me, the `attendance' officer." And meant to send a message, "I make sure all are accounted for, of which I haven't seen your face around here?" Ryan, having been faced with the opposite reaction, by a person who has accused him and John of trespassing, this was a different state of demeanor. Instead of clamming up, his defensive side kicking in, he mildly responds, "I'm Ryan." Bringing the clipboard up, Mark had the habit of catching the bottom of it in the fold of his bellyhole. He knew everyone on the page, but scan it with his pencil, for effect, "hmm, I don't seem to see any `Ryan' on the list." "Nah. Me's 'n my brother wouldn't a'be there on yer list. We come here by acciden'." In Mark's estimation, Ryan was no less than a cute fox in sheep's clothing. At 32-years old, he's ran across a cast of characters in several of those years, each with a different story to tell. This was one he's heard before, only not with the same twang to the accent. "What's your last name, Ryan?" Mark, waiting, flips the pencil over, from eraser, to point. Just one of the things he picks up on, Ryan says, "you write left hand, I's see?" Having been down this road, it wouldn't be the first time a dude tried picking Mark up, "last name?" Realizing he bent off topic, it doesn't bend Ryan out of shape, "Me's and my brother, we're Hull. 2 L's." Writing and speaking at the same time, Mark has already gathered, Ryan and his brother not on the grounds by way of formal application, "well, Ryan Hull, have you spoken to anyone since you've made your way here?" "Erik, he's brung me here. Before, I's met Jared, if that's a-helpin' ya?" Like a burst of fresh energy, Mark drops his clipboard back down to thigh level, "`Jared', now that does make quite a difference. Did Jared interview you?" Perhaps it has slipped through the appropriate fabric of an applicant being hired, Sam's clipboard missing the pertinent information. "I guess you's could called it that," Ryan felt on edge. It was strange to Mark, being he was brought up in an upscale neighborhood, attending the finest college money could buy. After securing a business degree, was invited to join the firm his father had worked at most of his life. "I see," Mark was sketchy on the details. Though, he knew, anyone who has survived a `Jared-interview', was good to go! Having admired what Mark was wearing, Ryan says, "so, when do John an'me git some skirts?" Mark felt like laughing in Ryan's face, but was of a kinder sort, "in order to become a gladiator, you have to prove you `are' one!" Ryan didn't catch Mark's drift, "a what?" `Gladiator' was Jared's term. Mark well knew the guys more liked being called, `warriors'. Regardless, he addresses the issue of getting down and dirty with Mother Nature, "in other words, you have to get with some physical training, before you earn your `kilt'," he enunciates the wraparound. "Killed, eh?" It only could make Mark smile, thinking Ryan so cute. Rather than prolong the inevitable, "I'm sure Jared would like you to have one, if you would like to be fitted with one now?" Of course, Mark would be there to oversee it! Shrugging both shoulders, and after a glance to John, busy as a bee, Ryan thought it cool, "sure." % In leaving, John pay no mind. Fact is, since meeting Kelly and joining in on the training, neither of two having given thought about `brothers'. Stepbrothers, Ryan and John have come from two different worlds, reason why one brother was more articulate than the other. "When I first saw them," John meant the pack of `gladiators', training, he thought the impossible, "I never thought I would be able to accomplish even half of the feats they were doing!" Kelly, having known John for only roughly half a day, was reluctant to mention, but now the feeling too overwhelming, "you look good in a kilt, John!" He smiles, waiting for the kickback. "Really?" John felt good hearing that. Other than Ryan, no ones ever applauded him on anything. "You look good too!" So, they both looked good! Not sure if they should mention it, each to the other, they had gone and done. Therefore, beyond their control, it had set the ball in rapid motion. When getting measured up, back at the factory, each had seen the other naked, from the waist, down. Having felt self-conscious about imperfections, hidden underneath the tank top these few years, it had given Kelly insight, that perhaps another guy, going out of his way to keep his shirt on, might be plagued with the same problem. Not quite the lust he had during foreplay of sex, Kelly did have a longing to know if that be the case with John. He always went by, not wanting to have pressure put on him, he allowed the same slack for someone else. Likewise, he put it on himself, "um, about the shirt," Kelly gives a little pull at the tank top, right about mid-chest, allowing it to bounce back, "someday maybe I can fill you in on it?" John didn't get it, "on what?" Again, using himself as a pawn, "I want to take my shirt off, but I'm kind of conscious of something." "Oh," John replies, getting it, but what he didn't get is, "how did you know?" Not `how he knew', about John, but rather John knowing he knew that he knew, Kelly says to that, "because maybe there's a reason why I'm keeping my shirt on?" He wondered if he dug deeper than he had wanted to. "Maybe I'm something like that?" Conversing with Kelly, was like speaking in a safe zone, very much how he perceived talking to his own brother. John loved Ryan very much, maybe even more than the vein of brotherly love extended for most siblings. It's just that, he's never shared it with anyone Ryan, even to the point of vocally saying out loud, `I love you.' Right now, Kelly was taking `maybe' as better than nothing. Their trainer calls over, "uh, you two, we haven't got all day, y'know?" Responding to the voice of command, wasn't at all like a tough army drill sarge, even though that's what the pair expected, when finally, their trainer shows up. Based on some of the other trainers, older than some of those there to train, they expected the same, loud, boisterous treatment. Clipboard in hand, walking right up to him, the over 6-foot trainer says, "you wouldn't happen to be Kelly?" Hand-picked-over, Doc Watson had been the other set of eyes and ears for Jared, scrutinizing application after application, intent on finding the perfect trainer to match up with his brother. Unknown to Kelly, nor John, Jared waited several yards away, behind a clump of bushes, just to see how things panned out. Binoculars in hand, he spoke, "this better work out, or you're in deep shit, Doc!" Smiling, because he knew, for himself, Jared's sense of retribution would entail a slap on the wrist and to find another compatible trainer. However, that wasn't the case...no slaps necessary! Across the distance, their walks up to them, "Good to finally meet you. I'm Travis McIntosh." Careful not to offer too much, "they set me up to train with you." "Kelly," he plainly says, shaking Travis' hand, "and this is John." "John?" Travis flips open the lid of his laptop. "Oh. Right." Meant to show he already knew, "John Hull, of Nashville, Tennessee!" Coming around to Travis' right side, John is amazed, "you mean, I'm in there?" he stares at the screen. Not which Kelly had to see, he thought John had the right idea, rubbing elbows with Travis! "Oh yeah," Kelly says. Feeling corralled in, not which he minded it, Travis says, "geez, guys, I feel like I'm in prison!" However, Travis made no effect to budge his feet. Backing off, Kelly says, "let's give him some room, John." "Um," John smiles, "thanks for showing me that." It kind of made John feel good, that he `belonged'. For the longest time there, John and his brother to live any place long enough to belong. "No problem," Travis closes up shop, placing the laptop under his arm. "So," Kelly was all ready, "where do we start?" Being it wasn't the ripe-early hour of the morning, Travis says, "with something small." It not only bothered Kelly, walking around with a tank top on, but that Travis led them, like the others, bare chested. At least he wasn't conscious that much, with John in a top, too. The two giggled though, which brought their leaders' attention back on them, with a turn of the head, "what?" He kept looking back, until finally putting the breaks on, confronting the two left in his dust, "okay. What's up?" "You tell him," John put it off on Kelly. Kelly thought he could just let it go. Not something major, it wouldn't hurt Travis if he didn't know he and John were secretly admiring his taut abs, `hot' bod, "me?" Having dealt with being a team player, especially during practice for synchronized swimming, Travis gives his pep talk, "look, if we're going to work together as a tightly-knit team, we have to be honest with each other, in order to make it work. Trust me, from what I see, you two are going to need a helluva lot of training." Nothing special, Travis gave the same speech to everyone! Some of the luster wearing off, Kelly says, like a pun, "well then, maybe John and me don't think you're so cute!" Never has anyone, especially a team player, been so frank, Travis' jaw dropping open with astonishment. He always tried playing it `straight', until a person caught on, or if Travis `chose' to come out, "like, when did you catch on about...you know?" Not being able to hold himself back, Kelly already has learned how infectious a `cackle' can be, laughing. By no means was he an authority on `all-things-gay', but being things had bent that way, "oh, we've been on to you for awhile now. Ain't that right, John?" Frankly, John hadn't a clue. Except for his brother, Ryan, he's never trusted in anyone, to go along with opinion, without first investigating, but already was placing trust in Kelly, "that's right," he laughs it off too, "you have to get up early in the morning to put one over on us!" "Okay, okay, okay," Travis thought, not taking offense, but rather riding along on the bubbling humor, "can we pull ourselves together here?" He didn't have far to gaze, the two standing shoulder to shoulder to him, facing one another, which put him sandwiched in between. The look on their faces, so cute, angelic, more words came to mind, John saying, "what?" Kelly's hand on Travis' left shoulder, he reckons, "we better get moving then," he drops his five digits. John had only put a hand on Travis' right shoulder, following Kelly's lead. Other than under his brother's teaching, what did he know about getting along with people, let alone `getting it on?' "yeah we better." Travis, he already knew Kelly was gay. He knew, in time, it would probably come out. So, he didn't have to out himself, with this perfect timing, "good. I'm glad we're all on the same page." There was much for the two to learn about John, but for himself, he grew up around the gay community, having swam his way to the top of the roster, of the gay olympics swim team. It was nothing for a player to slide a hand down the back, pocketing it in the fold a dude's belt loop. "Oh shit!" John jumps forwards. Always on his guard too, but rather than do a frog-leap, walked away from Travis' invading fingertips. Realizing where he's at, Travis turns beet red, apologizing profusely, "oh, I'm so sorry guys. Truly I am. I wanted to make a good impression and now look what I've gone and done?" Still taking Kelly's lead, John, without thinking much about it, had found trust, which seeing Kelly quick to forgive, "it's no big deal." Not which it was something which would determine if heads of state were to roll, Kelly says, "well, if John is okay with it, who am I to hold a grudge?" It was great, Travis of concern, whenever he started working someplace, he fit in. Working in Chicago, immersed in the gay community, he found that attribute went a long way. If he wasn't involved in a losing love relationship, maybe he would have stayed on. It was complicated and even though he swore to keep his personal life private, he wanted to share. On the the tip of his tongue to do so, he's cut off. "Great, then can we start training before the sun goes down?" Kelly breaks off Travis' thoughts. Heading across the field, the trio found, once they started talking, it never stopped. About Travis, first thing Kelly found out, not about his past love life, but that Jared had hand-picked him. Going on about himself, Kelly could see why, Travis having participated in not only the Olympics, but training, which took skill, stamina and tons of practice, could have much to share when it came to HG-training. More of a tag-a-long, John followed sort of in the middle, behind the two. Much of his time was spent on looking down chests, that of Travis' bare exposure and Kelly's shirt. It was nice of Kelly to ask, "are you following, John?" Not only did he ask, but John felt kind of special, Kelly opening up the space between, making sure he fit into the conversation, "I'm here." Arriving at a spot, where 3 piles of rocks were chiseled out of the flat landscape, Travis searches around, left and right, "uh, where to safely set this?" "I got it," John fingered his electronic device away from Travis. It was Travis' really first trusting experience with the two, but not without warning, as he hands it over to John, "be careful." He was. Not which the two spotted it first, John took the laptop over to a stump and carefully placed it on top. "Great," Travis heralded it. "Thanks, John." Shrugging both shoulders, John returns, "ah, it was nuthin'!" He couldn't have learned this on his own, most likely picked it up from Jared, Kelly saying, "I'm sure John will think of a way for you to repay him!" Standing there, watching the pair, snapping palms in a high-5, laughing it off, Travis wondered if he knew what he was getting himself into! For certain though, they seemed to be over his inappropriate gesture, the swimmer's hand down the pants `thing', feeling crack. In a way, Travis sensed coolness about it, that each of his middle fingers did not touch `crack'! "Well then, shall we get started," Travis began, with hands clapping together. First off, Travis had them lifting light rocks in each hand, no bigger than a man's palm. "I can lift more than this," Kelly says. "Me too," John agrees. "I know, I know, I realize that," Travis replies. "In time. In time." Even though they were in only muscle shirts, Travis says, "aren't you guys hot?" Almost 4:00 in the afternoon, Travis had taken a seat on a set of boulders. "Yeah, we probably are," Kelly says with sarcasm, "probably because we're the ones doing all the work?" Like he was looking at his dick, Travis looks down between his leg, at the log he's sitting on, "so you are," he looks up. With his legs wide open as he sat there, no doubt Kelly and John's eyes have already visited there! "Maybe that's enough for today," he stands. The two drop their rocks, with 4 thuds. Kelly laughs it off, "I only picked up 6 rocks and moved them!" "Me too," John says. Mocking, "yeah, this training's not as bad as I thought it was going to be!" In his mind, Travis knew this was just the tip of the iceberg. Though, he let them have their fun, "tomorrow's another day?" When he went to get his laptop, there was John, holding it, "I can carry it for you?" Whether he was capable of doing it for himself, Travis knew John just had a happy, giving attitude, "thanks." "If you want, we can take a dip in the pool before dinner?" Kelly proposes. More of less, all three were new to the compound, but being a good trails-man, had gotten his bearings straight on the way across the estate, "if I'm not mistaken, that would be doubling back?" Kelly was surprised, John with the moxie to say, "don't forget, we were the ones hauling rocks all afternoon, plus I'm carrying your heavy laptop?" Not which he `didn't' wish to go swimming and get the grime off, Travis had always remembered what his instructor said, `not to get too friendly with those whom you are training', but this wasn't a team of gay athletes, headed to the prestigious olympics. Too, Travis sensed a general liking towards the two, "lead the way." However Kelly did not know the way. John didn't either. Kelly did come up with a plan, "can I borrow your cell?" Looking to John, he says, "I don't own one." Back in Chicago, everyone had a cell and was on them. If in the pool, gearbags chimed at random with calls. Handing his cell over to Kelly, "I guess I have to get used to living in the country!" It's then Kelly realized, this not his phone, "uh oh," he held it on his palm. Grabbing it, it worries Travis, "I had it plugged in right up until I left this morning. Don't tell me it's," checking, it wasn't a run down battery, "it's working." "I know," Kelly says, revealing, "I was about to call Carlos, but I guess he's not in your phone?" John, he just followed, with eyes and ears. "No. All I have is Jared and this other trainer's name," Travis reads it out of his phone, "Flex Henley?" "Never heard of him." "Me neither," John agrees with Kelly. Kelly asks, "who is he?" "His specialty is long-distance running. We're supposed to work together with beginners." "Great," Kelly sees it an opportunity not to put anymore wear and tear on the soles, "give him a call." "I can't do that." "Why not?" Kelly says with persistence. "Because I haven't met Flex yet." "Oh," Kelly says. Truth is, he'd feel the same way. Being he's run around the grounds in a crappy pair of sneakers, he more looked forward to bathing them in pool water, than chancing blisters, "well, don't you think it's a good time to meet?" Having trained guys, there were always they looked for ways around situations, "okay, what's this about?" "What do you mean?" Kelly looks to John. Truthfully, from experience, Travis thought this could be a shared feeling, "John?" Contorting his face, shrugging both shoulders, John responds, "I dunno." Kelly took offense, "don't go blaming John. This is about me and my sore feet, okay?" `There's a first,' Travis thought. Back in Chicago, most often a guy would shove responsibility, or lack or, off on the next guy. "Okay, sorry John. I didn't mean anything by it." "Friends?" he puts out his right hand. Taking a deep breath, John took Travis' hand. He had a compelling feeling to do what comes naturally, lean in and offering a forgiving kiss, but it was something new and he backed off on the idea, offering instead, "not a problem." After a little heckling, Travis saw it no big deal and gave Flex a call. Meanwhile, off to the side, John with laptop still guarded by both arms in front of himself, Kelly jokes, "you sure did hold onto Travis' hand long enough?" Whether he did or not, to John, that was of lesser importance to, "would it have been not the right thing if I kissed him?" "Wow, I didn't see that coming?" A mystery to why Kelly said that, John asks, "see what coming?" "You and Travis. You like him?" In reality, Kelly felt let down. He was really digging John. He smiles, when John says, "no. Not at all. I'm kind of liking you, if that's okay?" Kelly felt himself smile, "yeah. It is." Travis' laptop got the squeeze put on it, Kelly and Travis sharing their first kiss! "Oh, isn't that sweet," Travis laughs. Treating Travis like Jared, how brothers deal with stuff like this, Kelly says, "fuck you, Travis!" John, his jaw drops open. Smiling, Travis gently pats John's cheek, "don't worry, John. I won't let your boyfriend near me, if you know what I mean. Besides, I'm a virgin and I'm saving myself for someone special!" Kelly, arms drawn across his chest, cocks his head back and forth, his tongue sticking out, boasting, whether it true or false of any of them, "right, you're a virgin, Travis." He was following, but John had thoughts of his own, as to whether or not Kelly was a virgin. Unlike how he found Kelly and Travis, John wasn't as carefree to talk about it publicly. "Well, if you're interested in knowing, Flex is putting on his high speed track shoes and will meet at the boys' dorm in 10 minutes." When Travis starts walking, Kelly asks, "did you bother asking directions?" "Matter of fact I did," Travis snidely answers. "So, don't go and think you're the only smart one around here?" By the time they got back to the boys dorm, the trio were back in good graces with one another. In fact, they never got bent out of sorts. Not one of them were ever provoked in anger, but rather spoke like life was one big joke. % Copyright 2018 T. Chase McPhee `GLaDiaToR EV'ry DaY' and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.