Date: Thu, 1 Mar 2018 00:16:36 +0100 From: TChase McPhee Subject: ?GLaDiaToR EV?ry DaY? o9 % 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' o9 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee % Even though Jared did not follow through on his own advice, encouraging those who participated in HG training, to attend after-work training, he meticulously checked the evening rosters. Last year, the first time `Magonagle Kilts' had participated, they fell short in all of the competitions, except one. Fact is, if it wasn't for Chad's recipe for `Apple Tartan', a take on the French dessert, `Apple Tarte Tatin', with a little ingenuity and `cheating', the Magonagle's efforts at the HG's would have been a total disaster! Ten years prior to being hired for the Magonagle's, Chad had been lucky enough to be chosen as one of the chef guests at the Adriano Bussier Master Class, held in Paris. It didn't occur to Chad, until Jared mentioned the name, `Cole MacGregor', it set off alarms in his head. After questioning Jared further, plus doing a little research on his own, Chad discovered, indeed this was Bussier's sidekick. Things don't happen without a reason. When Jared mentioned that name, along with MacGregor being a chef who was hard to please, from long ago, Chad recalled a certain tidbit of information. It wasn't only himself, but everyone else in the class wishing McGregor would shut up, about his love for chocolate. It was chocolate-this, chocolate-that...for certain, if the class' dessert did not contain chocolate, it wasn't `dessert'! Thus was born a new variation of Apple Tart Tatin. Chad's grandmother always included a quarter cup of pumpkin puree, which he had to admit added an extra kick. The `chocolate' part, that's what stumped him. At that same master class years ago, someone in the class had constructed an orange dish. Of course, Chef MacGregor tore it apart and taking the refuse, the peel, he proceeded to dip it in melted chocolate and then `repaired' the recipe, setting it about the dish. Chad had sworn MacGregor not only praised the young chef for such a wonderful dessert, but also got cozy with him afterwards. Regardless, Chad was the hero all around, winning first prize for his `Apple Tartan,' which was laced, from the top view, in an X-fashion, with orange peel, dipped in rich chocolate! Jared, of all times, when Chad was getting `cozy' with Tom, had to make sure he was thinking up some other brilliant concoction. Not which he wasn't certain, his team wasn't going to be physically prepped to walk away with some medals. Turning off his cell, Tom asks, "what was that all about?" "Jared. He can be such a nudge sometimes," Chad says, as they finish putting away some pots and pans in the kitchen. "How so? I mean, it's none of my business, but...just in case I should be on my guard?" So, the whole thing about being last year's HG hero, backtracking to the master class, talking up `chocolate' and how he used inside knowledge, all came together to explain the `one' win. "Hey," Tom didn't show indifference towards the cheating, "all's fair in love and war!" "Oh? And is that the same philosophy you use, once you've climbed into bed?" Fortunately, they could clown around like that, Chad having dismissed the cleanup crew, he and Tom finishing up. "That, my friend," Tom finally takes the soiled apron off, "you will have to find out for yourself!" Since there was only one apron, they didn't need to fight over it, the senior chef, Chad, allowed Tom to wear it. He went shirtless, but it wasn't like there were hot spatters of grease to contend with. >From Tom's view, winding up face to face, he took a finger and scraped upwards, against Chad's abs, "mm-m, you taste good," he licked sweat. "Is that so?" Chad replies. Seeing a tray containing cans of whipped cream, yet to be refrigerated, Chad picks one up, placing a dab on each pec-spot, "ready for dessert?" Sighing, when Tom accepted his challenge, sucking up one nip-full of whipped cream, Chad leans against the counter. Until Tom pulls Chad into his bod, "question is, are you ready for my dessert recipe?" Backing up, Tom is the one to lean, on the opposite counter, waiting to see if Chad accepts his challenge. The hint was there, Tom's eyes darting downward, at the tent in his briefs, then returning to Chad's eyes, "well?" If he had been a resident, there would be more of a coverup than the briefs he swam in. The dab of whipped cream, wasn't as puffy as Chad's chest, but it wasn't about the perfect adornment! "I'd much prefer `cream' as in Eclairs?" Tom smiles, "I was under the impression you preferred more `rich' desserts!" Certainly, a $3 can of whipped cream didn't compare with painstakingly preparing the inner contents of Eclairs, "I know the perfect balance of ingredients," Chad starts, licking the dab from Tom's nip. Teasing, his tongue travels down Tom's rippled abs. However, Chad wasn't wasting time. Since Tom had swam in his briefs, it was cinch to slide them down, both hands taking them to his ankles. Nothing more was said, as Chad began working Tom like a recipe. First was the ingredients to make him rock hard, tongue running up and down the already stiff barrel, much like icing a cake. Personal note, Chad liked the idea Tom had a tight pocket of balls to hold onto, which made handling the assemblage an easier task. In no time Tom added his expertise, holding Chad's head and working himself in and out. He rarely did this, but such was the perfect circumference of Chad's lips, it gave him an intense blow job, in short order, crying out, "I'm coming...I'm coming..." Chad couldn't `say', but was thinking it, `well, come already!' He was ready to. While his lips were working Tom's long tube, a hand was busy whisking up his own bowl of cream. Both coming almost the same time, Tom made sure Chad didn't spill a drop. Yet, when Chad falls back, butt hitting the floor, back against a cabinet, remnants of Tom's cream dribble down his chest, as he coughs. In between lapses in his breathing, Tom asks, "you okay?" he steps forward. "Fine," Chad waves him off, "fine, fine." As it's happened, whether a guy is swallowing his cream, or taking it up the ass, Tom's hand is on his own cock, making like he had to get every last drop out. With some, it's not a problem, some guys liking to suck every last smidgeon, like they didn't get enough protein! "Oh, okay," Tom accepts it, stepping back in place, till his butt meets the opposite counter. "Wh-hoopse!" he calls out, hands catching him before feet slide out from under him. Chad, on his butt, is off his butt in a jiffy, with a feeling of responsibility, Tom's feet slipping on `his' sap, sprinkled all over the floor! Both hands under Tom's pits, Chad exclaims, "are you okay?" "I am now!" >From grim to smiling, Chad was relieved, but also wary, "uh, you weren't playing me, were you?" "When it comes to working in a hot kitchen?" he meant it a couple of ways. Both, with feet on steady ground, Chad says, "I guess we should get cleaned up." Not like this to everyone, especially a guy he's just met, for fear of scaring a hottie away, Tom goes by intuition, "should make you get down on your belly and lick it up!" Biting his lip, Tom was quick to realize the err of his ways. Chad's silence made him think maybe it was the wrong thing to say. Not a stranger to such fetishes, Chad says, "sure, why don't you sit up here?" With arms fully clinging, Chad lifts Tom up, like a wrestler with a full hold, arms under the pits. Tom says of it, chin on Chad's shoulder, "Oh. Wow! Strong!" Chad sets Tom's butt right on the counter, with a slight farting sound. Even though not an official `fart', but rather the sound of air, Tom says, "oops!" Smiling at each other, instead of doing what he was drawn to do, lick the underside of Tom's feet, Chad chooses a hygienic approach, excusing himself, "I don't do toes on the first date!" Truthfully, not a date, if they were out someplace, most likely they would not be spraying whipped cream, or creating a health hazard. Grabbing a towel, normally used for drying dishes, or lifting something hot from the oven, Chad uses it on Tom's feet. Knowing how unclean it would be to lick feet having touched the floor, Tom is still open to the idea, "maybe another time, but thanks." "For what?" "Toweling off my feet?" "Hey," Chad muses, "the least I can do, after messing up the floor!" "Um, after you're done, can I use it to wipe my balls?" Tossing the towel in the sink, Chad says, "now that...I can take care of!" % Meanwhile, whereas downstairs things had progressed rather quickly, upstairs everything had moved in slow motion. "I have a confession to make, Kelly?" The two hadn't even gotten to the romantic part, having settled into lying on the bed, pitting arms behind heads and chatting about how cool it was, the pool party. "What's that?" Turning over on his side, John repositions a hand under his head, "like, I wasn't supposed to mention stuff about Ryan and me, but you know, I never did it with another guy?" It was only a few hours ago John had mentioned this, but adding some refreshed words himself, Kelly caving in, "like me and Jared, but..." he was lost for words, on how to get himself and John more involved, "you can come closer, if you want?" The pair were exactly as they had come in from the backyard barbecue, clothes in tanks and briefs. Sweaty was the least of what was on their minds. Kelly shared mutual feelings about himself and Jared, but as of yet hadn't mentioned the incident of his father's method of discipline. He had only said that when he came out to his family, they weren't pleased. Of John's thinking, he had his reasons for not allowing the whole world to view his bod, due to others having careless attitudes over how they treated people, especially if they were gay. Coming closer, John finally drew up enough courage to lift his tank top over his head and off, saying in the process, "I hope you're still going to like me, after seeing this." It wasn't like John had to turn around, show scars on his back. Fact is, he didn't turn at all, sitting there. "Well, what do you think?" "What is it I'm supposed to be looking at?" Kelly sat up, yoga-style. Pulling on his left pec, contorting his nip, John says, "Ryan says I make too much of a big deal about it, and I suppose I do..." much too embarrassed to give details, he has a change of heart, being it was Kelly and not some stranger, "when I was 18, some guys in my high school had me cornered in the locker room. They said I looked `gay', having a ring on my nipple. One of them," John had to swallow, take a deep breath, restart, "one of the bullies grabbed it and tore it out." Kelly had thought he was a basket case, John immediately starting to cry about it. Like it was Jared there and not someone else, he felt compelled to share in the emotional state, leaning forward, taking John in his arms, "it's okay," he recalled all his sessions with Doc Watson, and the most important aspect, "that's a world away from you now, John." Unlike Ryan, John felt a difference in hugging his brother and his, `lover?' "I know. I wish I had someone like your doctor. I'm thankful I had Ryan...and..." they broke apart long enough to stare into each others' eyes, "thankful I have you, Kelly." It seemed like the right moment, whereas Kelly had put off his own stigma. After consoling John, Kelly whips off his own tank, saying, "Doc Watson used to tell me, I'm not the only one in the world that has battle scars." Turning over on the bed, Kelly parks the side of his head in a pillow. "Oh. Wow," said in a low tone, John moves his legs around, looking upon Kelly's back, point blank. "You're right. I'm not half as bad looking as all this. I'm so selfish." Kelly had to agree, John's nip looked like hardly much, other than one not matching the other perfectly, "you're not being selfish," he turns around. What he did know, and this was from session upon session of therapy with Doc Watson, being taunted is not all physical and sometimes it takes years to rid yourself of unwanted mental emotions. Up on one hand poking the bed, Kelly says, "but it doesn't make it any less than what my own father did to me." "Your dad, he did that to you?" "Yeah, but fortunately for Jared and I both, we didn't have to put up with his attitudes long. It's complicated." "I know," John acknowledges, "how complicated family can be." Throughout the next couple of hours, Kelly and John found themselves in different positions, each learning more about the other. For John, it was more complicated than a father with traditions and reaction to a son who was coming out. John and Ryan were brothers, with the same biological father, but not mothers. Almost the same age, people thought they were twins. They were a year apart. Even before Ryan's mother had filed for divorce, John's mother was living with Ryan's father. John's biological dad had left. He didn't know where he went and hasn't seen him since. Having to deal with that, plus being forced to live with a stranger, John wished his bio father had taken him with him. Even though his father wasn't around much, his bio mom was the worse of two evils. So now John was living with two devils! "So, you didn't get along with your new father?" Kelly's reaction is what set John off on `chapter 2' of his life, "he was horrible. A monster. And there was nothing I could do about it." Lying there with John, it brought Kelly closer, hearing about John in a position of no one to turn to, except when Ryan came back home. John would have loved to come live with Ryan, but a court order officially told him he had to be with his biological mother. At the time, a teen kid, he didn't understand due process of law, but adults, they did. John saw Ryan's father made a big deal out of having him taken away, out of spite. Even though to more his advantage and not Ryan's, John would have loved to have a `brother' living with him. Though, John was fortunate enough Ryan came to live with them on periodical visits. It was the law. What was `not the law', was that when Ryan stayed with them, neither parent paid attention to either of the boys! No problem with that, it only served to bring John and Ryan closer together, as brothers, and lovers. "First time Ryan and I met, was like a breath of fresh air," John's attitude immediately lifted, revealing some secrets to Kelly. Kelly, who had taken to lying his head on John's chest, arm behind his head, felt the discrepancy as well, like a cool breeze blowing through the room, a quick heartbeat slowing down, "really?" Again, learning from his shrink, Kelly figured John didn't have the luxury of sharing with a therapist, so went with intentions of having him spill his guts. "When we first met, we hit it off." >From his own therapy, Kelly knew why Doc Watson, when happening upon a happier time in his life, kept him talking, so he did the same with John, "how so?" It was like the horrors of Hallowe'en, changing into Christmas day, opening packages, amazed at all the wonderful presents. John was all bubbly, skipping to the most important revelation, "when Ryan mentioned to me he was gay, it was the greatest thing! I had no one to tell and knowing we both were...it was the coolest!" Breaking out of his former self, Kelly could relate, him and Jared growing together, with no secrets. "I know, right?" Right off, after the next half hour, Kelly and John had realized they had so much in common. Most important, they had brothers whom they found, instead of being just siblings, they shared their minds and their bed with. However, as John weaved his story to Kelly, the unfortunate would strike Ryan as well, his mother passing away. Fortunate circumstance, it was in the latter half of his senior year of high school he came home to live with his father. "Yeah, Ryan and me, we had to be careful, but there was only one bedroom for us to share and only one bed. We did a lot of stuff in that bed, but before we went to sleep, we had to make sure either of our heads were at the opposite ends of the bed." Kelly relates, "fortunately, or unfortunately, whichever way you want to look at it, our folks weren't around long enough to find out about Jared. At least with knowing one son was gay, not two, they still thought they would go on, having heirs, in the conventional sense." As Kelly would learn, when John and Ryan did go to sleep that one night, in their senior year of high school, they had become so weary after hot sex, they hadn't bothered to change positions, falling asleep staring at each others' face, instead of feet! "In the middle of the night we were roused out of a sound sleep. Pa had come in from drinking, `bout two in the morning. I just imagine he could smell the sex Ryan and me had made a few hours before. Just the fact he found us in each others' arms, was enough to convict us. First it was me, pulled out of bed, a punch in the stomach enough to get Ryan up and swinging at him." "I hope Ryan had a heavy fist!" "It's not whether he did or not. The fact dad was drunk out of his skull and Ryan, landing more punches than he did, put a damper on things." More subtle, John coins Kelly's interpretation, "Ryan's `heavy fist' was enough to put him out for awhile." "Let me guess, it was turning point?" The past, over and done with, John returns to his bubbly self, "you never saw two guys pack up as quick as we did and get the hell outta there!" Whatever happened between himself and Jared, what occurred between John and Ryan, it made Kelly feel all tingly inside. He stirred with excitement, which made him project those feelings, taking John in his arms and hugging him tightly. >From John's point of view, he was as high on compassion, yet it went beyond brotherly love, as he began to kiss Kelly all over his face, down his neck. In the throes of love, which passes from being brothers, to lovers, as they had learned from their siblings, it prompted Kelly and John to work their briefs off, become more intimately entwined. % When he didn't have to lock up the store himself, Billy usually returned to the Magonagle estate factory around 3:30 in the afternoon. Not which he was compelled to do so, he took it upon himself to fulfill the unwritten law, the workday being at 8am, winding down around 4pm. In the morning house, all rose to the sound of a `human' alarm. For those lodged in the dormitory, a small `castle' with apartments resembling college interiors, wakeup call came at 6am. Dorm supervisor, Nick Ackerman would verbally, sticking his head through each doorway, announce `6am, guys!' Nick, an avid athlete would rise an hour earlier, shower, shave and do a little warmup. While stretching with yoga as a key precursor to his forthcoming exercise routine, Nick's blender whirred with a breakfast concoction of protein supplements and natural ingredients, of which most were grown right there on the grounds. After arousing the troops, it took only one call and he was on his way out the door, running the myriad of trail which criss-crossed the Magonagle estate. By the time those housed at the dormitory were up, showered, dressed and ready to report to either the factory, store in town, barnyard, Kelly or Jared's `castle' or report to their grounds supervisor, Nick would be on the return leg of his run. His very first time running, he met up with Flex Henley. Since, five minutes after leaving the dorm, Nick met him near the lake where normally guys would come to fish. From there, it became a race of stamina, one keeping up with the other, until they reached a mutual pace. After Flex met Mike Ewing, estate nurse, the duo of morning runners became a trio. To answer Nick's question, seeing Mike in impeccable muscular shape, he says, "no, I'm much faster at swimming. Though, I think I can give you some competition!" Mike smiles, thinking, `wanna bet?!' "That remains to be seen," Flex says, but knowing the stamina of a runner, Nick wasn't messing around. Wasting no time, Nick began running in place, the 42-year old challenging, "well, you ready to give an old man some competition?" When a guy makes-like-a-runner, he either acts dopey, or reacts in a professional manner. Pumping fists would be the comical approach. Nick acted `dopey', forcibly pumping his fists, while at the same time doing some kind of jig! Cocking one eyebrow, the smirk on Flex's lips was meant to deliver sarcasm, "yep, Nick, he knows what he's doing!" Standing there, Travis had his own confident take on it, "don't underestimate him. I bet the `old man' can run circles around us!" It made Nick stop in place, compose himself, add the benefit of the doubt, "why thank you Travis!" Flex, 29, Travis 24, they were about half Nick's age. Mike, he was the one in the middle, the 34-year old `fulcrum'. Looking fit, they all had an athletic connection. Flex, having raced these woods before, assumed Nick could easily overtake Travis, but let him find out for himself. Though, Nick was no woos, as Flex and Mike find out, 3 miles down the trail. Not only did he keep up, but as they were predicting, Nick proved them wrong, keeping up with his cardio better than the `young men'! Stopping at the boat house, Nick and Travis exchange a high-5. Lagging seconds behind, Flex offers, "Mike and me," he places one arm over Mike's shoulder, like ownership, a hand to the paramedic's chest, "we didn't want you to cry like a baby, Nick, when we pulled ahead of you, so hung back!" "Yeah, right," Nick smiles, knowing Flex was trying to pull a fast one on him! Travis, he just sat there, taking it all in. He did have `a moment', sighing a deep exhale, wishing it were Flex holding him like that. `Lucky Mike!' Meant as a joke, Mike says, "well, I could have passed you up easy, Nick, but my mom always made me respect my elders." Nick could be playful as well, groping himself, joking, "when does the respectful part kick in?" Having run these woods numerous times, they could be considered more than friends, Mike saying, "be careful what you wish for, brother!" Reaching forward, Mike breaks from Flex's grip on him, grabbing Nick's hand, offering congrats. Nick uses is as leverage to pull Mike down, setting his butt on the log next to him. Travis scoots out of the way, not which he wouldn't mind, having Mike sit on his lap! It's run through Nick's mind, a time or two, if indeed he had a brother, he would want him to be like Mike. More brothers, with a little bromance thrown in along the trail, of which Flex has yet to talk to Travis about! There's only enough time in a relationship, when first born, to talk personal items. Mainly it's where a guy is from, occupation, past and present and then followed by some fun, which is how Flex found out Travis could swim circles around him in the pool, what with his olympic training! "Time's a-wasting," Nick calls out, after looking at his Apple watch. Standing, Nick's attention is drawn up the path, where they had just jogged down, "tally-ho, out of the way!" >From behind Flex's back they hear, "incoming!" It was Teyo's way of telling them to move out of the way, or risk being rammed. "What-tha?" Flex says, turning around. Teyo, he knew the implications of having a collision, running at top speed, so had mercy on the dude in his path, slowing tremendously. Plowing into Flex, in a playful mood, the 6'3 hunk in sunglasses, dressed in only skimpy shorts, socks and sneakers, butts his massive chest into the out of shape jogster, "oh! Sorry! Didn't see you standing there!" Smile filling Nick's face, in the latter part of his 43 years on earth, he's learned all the ways of picking up a man. He couldn't say he hasn't used Teyo's technique! Flex, looking up into those dark-shaded eyes, says, "no problem, stranger!" >From quite a distance, even with the dark sunglasses on, Teyo had seen Flex blocking the path. He thought him as quite the dish, but when closing in on him, `height' could have play a part in putting the brakes on. Only too keen on all the ins and outs of relationship, Nick assesses the situation, with the tall hulk suddenly seeing Mike... "Oh, hi there, Mike," Teyo sees him over Flex's shoulder. Breaking free, Teyo gravitates over to Mike. Nick, he wonders what Teyo's reaction would have been, if the estate paramedic wasn't standing there. Contrary to all this, Travis, who had slowly began to idolize Flex, went from `heart attack' mode, into a lifted burden, Teyo releasing him from his caged arms. Nick, the loner of sorts, can see them `pair off', thinking himself correct in assuming the coupling just as he thought, `Teyo and Mike', `Travis and,' and the writing on the wall, he and Flex pairing up. Of himself, a 43-year old man, he still wasn't giving up on a man being out there for him. If not younger, certainly there was a `daddy' he could call his own! Apple watch time, Nick says, "uh, before you guys get wrapped up in each other, we should get a move on i-i-i-it." `It' trailing off, Nick's train of thought is suddenly derails. Catching glimpses of flesh, tearing through the woods, 20 feet in the distance, he remarks, "hey, you guys know if they have gazelles in this area of the country?" Teyo and Mike, they were more into themselves, than listening to forest sounds. Getting reacquainted, the scholar of the bunch, Travis breaks off a sweet kiss to define, "I think you've got the wrong country, Nick," he laughs. About ready to begin again, before they have to start all over with another cardio warmup, Nick is stopped in his place by the streak slowing. He knew that `move', a righteous observer of `people', having been an avid guy-watcher most of his life. The pace gets slower and slower and slower, until a remnant of that fast run remains. Then suddenly...his gazelle faces from sight! "Oh shit!" Both, wondering what happened to his sleek jogger, plus the pulsing in his loins, Nick has immediate concern. The others, engaged in their own business, break apart, showing unsettled interest, Flex asking, "what's up, Nick?" "I dunno," he says in a blur, "but I'm anxious to find out!" Driven by mainly concern for `a man down,' Nick hustles through the bush, going off-path, until finally he sees the `gazelle' get up. From twenty feet, he yells, "you okay, buddy?" >From ten feet, Nick could tell his `gazelle' was a youthful animal. "I think," he's still brushing stuff off his brilliantly chiseled chest! >From what he can gather, the runner had run right into a bush, rather than go around. No one could predict how that would have gone, which this particular person apparently tripped, falling full force into it. Reason for Nick's interpretation, were the scratches up and down the lad's perfectly formed pecs and sleek abs. "Do you think you need medical attention?" "Um," he tried to access the damage to his smooth bod, while addressing Nick with his eyes, "I don't think so." Regardless, Nick was on it, "Mike, get over here!" "You don't have to scream," Mike says, from a short distance. When Nick hightailed it from the boat house, apparently the other saw his concern. It wasn't until they were close enough they could see as he did, a dude covered in scratches, but otherwise coherent. "I think I'm okay. Really," he looks around, "except I might have lost my cap?" Teyo, the tallest of the bunch, towering over the rest by inches, bends over the crushed bush and retrieves the garment, "this what you're looking for?" Mike, given a reason to examine the gazelle from head to just below the bellyhole, assesses the damage, "you've got a few scrapes, which should heal in no time." Not which Nick would like to examine him himself, "are you sure you shouldn't take his pulse, Mike?" Mike, and the lad, who have already made a mental connection, asks, "do you think I need to start a workup on you?" What none of them could guess, `Nick' was the cause of the whole accident, the lad having missed dodging the bush, his mind on something else in the distance, "nah. Really I'm okay. It was my own fault," he threw in a trickle of humor, "for not minding my own business and keeping my mind on where the trail went." Suddenly, picking up some good vibes, Nick says, "is that so?" Slapping his baseball cap on his knee, he thanks Teyo, but turns his attention back to Nick, "so, you run these woods every day?" Rightly, Travis thought the dude more of a match for himself, regarding age. He couldn't be more than a year or two older. Then again, he knew Flex was older than him, by about 5 years, so what's the big deal when it comes to age? Teyo, more into people and their privacy, could see something of two guys who have designs on each other, "uh, we should go Mike, if you think it's not necessary to call for medical backup?" So, the quartet went on ahead, without Nick. "I'm Nick." "Oh, sorry about that. Shayne Hampton," he nervously places the baseball cap on his head, turning it around so the lid is in the back. When knowing a guy, Nick could be a crackup, having others laughing their asses off. First time meeting a dude, especially if he's hot, he's a failure for words, "um, the last name's Ackerman. Nick Ackerman." "You run these woods every day?" "I've only been living here a few months, but yeah, mostly. You?" Breaking from their rigorous running, the two took to leaning casually on opposite trees, Shayne saying, "This is my second time out. Really, I was concerned about running through these woods?" "Oh, you don't need to worry. These woods are safe." Quickly he changes subjects, "uh, where is it you work?" Work? It wasn't a subject yet in Shayne's vocabulary, "I don't. I'm a student. At the local community college." "Oh," Nick readjusts his position, leaning against the tree and folding arms under his pecs, "but I was under the impression, anyone who lives here, needs to work at something, to earn their lodgings and bread and butter?" Shayne smiles, saying, "I don't live here," he chuckles, "so I suppose that doesn't include me." "If you don't live here, then, you've got to live somewhere?" Shayne tried packing it all in a nutshell, but it took quite a few minutes to explain. From a wealthy dynasty, began years ago, which he cuts short, saying presently he hailed from East Hampton, New York, Shayne carries the family joke, "people think, since our surname is `Hampton', that the town's name originates from our family heritage." Smiling, Nick asks, "does it?" "Nah, but it makes for good conversation!" At which point there was a lull! His Apple watch giving Nick indication he should be not far from the canteen, "I should be going." "Oh. Sure. Sorry for taking up your time." Not which Nick minded, "not a problem. I'd like to hear more about your family and `your town'!" This could go either way. Visibly, it wasn't a mystery, the difference in age. Nick's saving grace was keeping himself in top physical condition. The fuzzy stomach didn't impair the sight of his 6-pack abs. Shayne, not knowing a soul in these parts, having become a new resident, "and I don't know anything about you!" "Really?" was Nick's reaction, like this wasn't meet, greet and `goodbye', "I mean, yeah. Uh, I'd like to learn more about you too." One of the worst things about himself, were relationships. Shayne even had a tough time meeting guys. Worse than that, was once meeting a guy, was keeping the mutual bond going. He had good rapport with his father. They were good friends. Still are. Probably reason why he had a comforting feeling about Nick. "Um, you wouldn't want to come back to my place for breakfast?" It was one of Nick's questions, if Shayne didn't work, where was he staying, getting his meals from, "and where would that be?" Part of the mystery, Shayne unravels it, "I have a house adjoining this property. I hope it's okay that I hop the fence and use the woods to run?" "Fence?" Nick uses it as a test, "you think I'm too old to hop it?" The `gay' issue hadn't entered the conversation. Certainly Nick was feeling it, but there were times he had pushed his luck and found a guy `straight'. Sometimes it got him into trouble. He did have a sense of gaydar, but ensuing conversation became more the practice, rather than faulty `wiring'. Shayne, it would be nice, to come right out and say it, but he often lost friend that way. Attracted to Nick, he wasn't even thinking of him as two decades older. Taking it slow, it would be nice if they became friends, "I think you can make it over without breaking a hip!" Not which Nick though he was an old cow, ready to be put out to pasturing, "hey, it's not like I'm your grandfather!" Having only ran these woods for two times, Shayne says, "uh, you wouldn't happen to know which way is east?" "No," Nick `dials up' his watch, "but I can find out!" "I didn't know you could use a compass on an Apple watch?" Not which Shayne would know, not owning one, but it made for good conversation. Plus, it got him to move away from his tree trunk and move closer to Nick's wrist. With Shayne moving closer, Nick thought, of all things his Apple watch was, the compass app was paying off, "only problem are tons of ads, in Japanese!" It made him giggle, which in turn had Shayne saying, "don't that beat all?" "Yeah," Nick turned his head for a short duration, enough to take in the sweat of Shayne's baseball cap. Close, whether on purpose, or not, they feel elbows against each other. "There we go," Nick looks over the top of Shayne's head, "east is over there," he nods. Almost ready to just get on with it and get home, Shayne risks it, "uh, about breakfast, you want some?" Nick can recall those days, a college lad and shy as all hell. He knows he should really report to the canteen for breakfast. "Unless, you have to be elsewhere?" Shayne tries bailing out. "No. Not really," Nick says. Meals were free time. Business was a different story, knowing Jared kept tabs on everyone and whether or not they were doing as assigned. His business with Shayne, he was a little leery with being with a guy half his age, but they don't grow on trees! "If you think I can get over the fence without breaking a hip?" >From a distance Shayne knew Nick could make the fence. Closer, he could surely tell the shape he was in. "I think you could jump over the Eiffel Tower and live to tell!" It made Nick laugh out loud, but quickly regain composure, "uh, you wouldn't want to make that jump with me?" "The Eiffel Tower or the fence?" It was goofy talk, but without hesitation, it got the two over their jitters. "Shall I lead the way?" Shayne asks, "do you know the way?" "You got a good point there," Nick laughs. Then they were on there way. Shayne, he kept looking back, to make sure `the old man' was keeping up. "I'm right behind you," Nick would notice. Testing, Shayne put on some speed. Each time he did it, Nick was right there on his heels. Nick needn't shout, keeping up with Shayne's pace, "can't you go any faster?" It made Shayne laugh, but at the same time not lose concentration on the pace, nor cardio. Within 10 minutes or so they reach the fence. Yesterday, Shayne had dared himself to jump it. Backing up, he ran toward it, but stopped twice. Third time, he made the four foot jump, clearing it. Without hesitation, the `gazelle' made the jump. Putting on the brakes, Nick stops short of running into it, "no way. I might be smart, but I'm not crazy!" "Do you need a hand?" Shayne held his out. Nick didn't, probably could have scaled the fence, backing up and making a dash, now knowing it only to be there as a property marker, not to keep cows in. "Uh, yeah," he reaches a hand over. Shayne, he was joking, but now that he had committed himself, felt obligated. Nick, he was kidding, reinforcing that by dropping his arm to his side. But when Shayne's arm lingers, "well, why not? I'm not getting any younger, am I?" "None of us are," Shayne chooses wisely. Whether by choice without thinking, or an honest accident, Nick catches the tip of his second sneaker on the top of the fence, tumbling, instead of clearing the fence! "Oops!" he says, lying on top of the lad. For ten seconds Nick lingered, looking into Shayne's eyes, but then realizing the situation, jumps off, like landing on a hot griddle! "Oh, I'm so, so sorry." There was no way for Shayne to hide how he felt, other than to cup a hand over his running shorts, saying, "no problem." On the contrary, Nick took it as Shayne accepting his apology, but what of `the other thing?' He wanted it so much to be so, him landing on Shayne, their bods mooshed together, "are you sure there isn't a problem?" Not needing an in detail analysis, Shayne knew Nick had found him out. It's happened before, with consequences. Learning from experience, he should know better. Regardless, he opens up about himself, "if you've got a problem with this Nick. Sorry. I'm gay." At least Shayne knew, if Nick acted out in violence, over an innocent accident, which yielded an accidental reaction, his hand had his most vulnerable spot covered. Leaning over, Nick says, "I'm surprised you haven't found me out." Sensing it `ok,' like Shayne had just given him permission, Nick's lean warrants him folding over like a jackknife, clashing, his lips meeting up. It was a short kiss, but delivered with a romantic touch. After Nick lifts his chest, Shayne smiles, saying, "so, coming over the fence, was it an accident, or on purpose?" Sending a message, if Shayne hadn't gotten it by now, Nick says, "that was an accident, before we knew we were gay." Floor of a forest was not exactly the smartest place to get familiar with each other, Shayne saying, "about that breakfast?" Kneeling and then getting up, Nick extends a hand, "I'm famished. You?" Hoisting Shayne up, Nick wanted to caress those lips one more time. "Um, you see where my cap went?" Nick knew it was an excuse not to engage. Not which he didn't think Shayne wanted the same. Apparently he wanted to take it slow and felt no fault in that. He did have one reservation with himself, telling himself, `stop that!' having witnessed Shayne's ass, when he bent over to pick up his cap! Shayne did the same routine, slapping the cap on his thigh, placing it on his head, shifting it around so the front was in the back and the back was in the front. Unintentionally, from being scared with taking the next step, Shayne says, "you still want breakfast?" There, Shayne at asked at least the third time, which sent a message to Nick, the lad nervous. He wasn't so sure himself, but something inside was telling him it was okay. "Still hungry as a...whatever!" It was short walk in the woods, about thirty feet, before the forest dropped out, stepping on perfectly lush grass. "Wow!" It made Nick stop dead in his tracks, looking upon a meadow, "this has got to be the greenest grass I've ever seen." He squatted down to feel the softness of it. Not which it was appropriate, he thought, Shayne couldn't help it but observe Nick's shorts shooting down over his butt, exposing a hairy crack! Without exposing his thoughts, it did make Shayne feel all gingerly inside, like he shouldn't be stalking another man's ass. Popping up, Nick looked upon Shayne, face as red as beet! "Hmm, that's some tan you've got there. I'd suggest staying out of the sun," he looks up to the sun, it not being there overhead, regardless, "at least for one day?" "Yeah," Shayne had no intentions of verbally giving himself away, "I'll do that." Taking the lead, Nick soon catches up. He had already taken notice of the tall fence, but it being never ending, from north to south. However, Shayne is leading him straight ahead, to the middle. "Aha!" Nick says, as Shayne reaches for a hidden handle. "I know. It blends in. You would never know it's there, but that's kind of the idea. Camouflage, so no one else does either." Three times as high as the fence he attempted to hop over, Nick has his second `wow' moment, "this is incredible! Who woulda thought?" "You're the first person, other than myself and the moving men, who have set foot in my house. Well, there's the builders of course, but since it's finished completion, that is," Shayne rambles on as they approach the side of the silvery-framed-glass structure." "Magnificent," Nick calls it. Partially geodesic, the portion Shayne led them to, was rectangular, with a sloping roof. Every part of the sides and what he could see of the roofing, were glass, without any window coverings. "Now I know why you have a 12-foot--fence!" "Yeah," Shayne loosens up as he keys the door with a thumbprint, "keeps out all kinds of animals!" Nick senses something, both walking in the amazing home, built of glass and metal. "Ah-h-h, no place like home," Shayne breathes it in, like a scented summer breeze. Going for his jogging shorts, thumb inside the elastic, Shayne unveils his ass halfway before realizing, "oops," he pulls them back up, "force of habit. I get in the door and all I want to do is get in the shower." Feeling the same thing Shayne has, after walking in the door, Nick knows the comfort of home, "don't let me stop you." Then, feeling whimsical, "I might even join you!" Shrugging shoulders, acting embarrassed, Shayne says, "I never did that before." Knowing, showering together, blurts out in a blaming tone, "you never took a shower? Man, no wonder you reek!" Comfortable surroundings surely did make Shayne feel relaxed, "you want to shower?" Thinking it meant what he wanted it to mean, Nick hints at it further, "together?" At twenty-two years old, Shayne figured himself the most inept homosexual, of sexual activity. He knows more about what goes on, not from experience, but by watching gay porn. Making up his mind, entering college, he would get on with his education, regarding that subject. First year, it never materialized, Shayne doing the safe thing, diving into the books, rather than some guy's bed! Feeling safe with Nick, Shayne says, "would you believe, Nick, that I'm 22-years old, a sophomore in college and I've never done it with a guy?" Like he was avoiding the subject, Nick says, "you're that young, eh?" It's with hearing it, Shayne gets sensitive, "you only into older guys?" Age never mattered to Nick. He wished everyone would forget about stuff like that... And cock size, like what's with that? Closing up the gap, not which he intended on jumping on Shayne, or anything, "nah, what I'm into is a guy who can forget all the drama and just be romantic." It's one of the things Shayne trusted about Nick, "like when you jumped on me and kissed me in the woods?" "Oh my god, Shayne," Nick takes a step back, "you don't believe I did that on purpose?" "No," Shayne starts to turn that shade of red again, "I'm only yanking your chain." Nick could go some place with that, but kept it cool, "good. For the record, I did get the tip of my sneaker caught on the fence rail." "I know." With that out of the way, a lull ensued, until Shayne remembers, "you ready to get something to eat?" "Why don't you give me directions to the shower and while you are rustling up something for us to chow down on, I'll get the sweat off?" Shayne thought it was a good plan, not which he didn't have a want for showering together. It would have been one step closer to his goal, of being with a man before turning 25! Agreeing, "everything's on this main floor, except for the loft," he says, walking into the living room. Looking up gave indication of where the loft was, Nick saying, "only one bedroom?" "No, there's a guest room. I had it added in case my mom and dad were to visit, but I doubt that has a chance of happening." Though provoking, Nick assumes, "they're not comfortable with you being out?" "No. In fact they didn't have a problem with it. You have to understand, Nick," Shayne began leading him to the kitchen and not the shower, "all my life my parents have been busy earning money. My mom used to be my dad's secretary, until she became his wife. Mom, she's much like a person who likes involvement. Dad, not so. He's more the `boy scout' type. He likes to go fishing, camping and other outdoors stuff. Problem is, finding the time. So, instead of him, my dad got my cousin Callum to fill in." Watching Shayne take out containers, Nick was under the impression they were going to stay grimy for awhile. "How did that work out for you?" "Great," Shayne show it, too! "Callum's twelve years older than me, but we got along as if we were the same age. He knows all about everything outdoors, is a fantastic basketball player and...." There, Shayne turned on the shyness. "Listen," Nick leaned both forearms on the counter, opposite side as Shayne, "you never have to worry about saying anything to me. I've lived a long, full life and probably almost anything you say, is not going to shock me." "Thanks." They hung there, each on their own side of the kitchen divider. "What I was going to says is," Shayne hesitates for one final gulp, "whenever we went camping, Callum and me, we slept in the same sleeping bag." "Betcha you never got cold?" Nick chuckled at that innocent rip, which seemed to sit well with Shayne, making him smile. "Did I mention we always had our briefs on?" "Uh, no," Nick says casually, grabbing a carrot stick, "but I had a feeling you were leading up to it?" "First time, Callum and I slept in a tent, we did have two sleeping bags. Second time we went camping, we realized, on the interstate, he had left one of the sleeping bags on the roof. It wasn't near our house, because it wasn't found. We never did find it. Anyhow, that's how we started sleeping in one bag." "Callum just assumed it was okay with you?" "No, that's not it was at all. In fact he was very sensitive about it. You see, it wasn't until we had to make that choice, that Callum came out to me." Shayne again, with the smile, the slight red tint, says, "it was the first time I ever told anyone I was gay." "For me," Nick relates, "it was like a big burden lifted off my shoulders. How about yourself?" "Same, but with Callum, he was really awesome about it. You know, whenever we slept in the sleeping bag together, he always had me face his back, with my arms around him. He said it was respectful, something like me facing him...I don't really get it." Nick knew, but wasn't about to destroy Shayne's confidence in his cousin. He could just picture Callum, pushing his ass back and explaining it as `respect'! Nick goes off page, "so, he knows all about survival skills?" "He's the authority. Y'know, you and Callum would get along good. You'll have to meet him." "Oh?" Nick showed interest, "when will he be dropping by?" "Maybe around Thanksgiving. He's a tour guide now, in the Grand Canyon. Usually the holidays are his time off, unless he's contracted privately." "I'll be looking forward to it." "Well," Shayne looks over two made up plates, "I guess we're going to eat first. I hope you're okay with veggie plates for breakfast?" "I'm more the vegetarian myself." Sitting right there at the middle counter, the two munched on veggie sticks, an apple concluding the feast. Throughout the whole breakfast, which lasted about an hour, Shayne had it on his mind, `showering together.' They talked more on Shayne's life in East Hampton, but he majority of the conversation was on Nick's childhood on the farm in Idaho and how he made it out to the east coast. "Of all the reasons for leaving Idaho, I'd have to say is for a change of scenery." Nick furthers, telling of how his father knew Jared's father and how they had made a gentleman's agreement about sheep. With Jared's parents' untimely passing, there was no paperwork to back up the sheep deal. Though, his father had already bought the sheep and raised them for a few months, which cost money. He never got back what he intended for the sheep and wound up losing money. From then on, the farm seemed to fall deeper into debt. "When Jared found out, through the attorney, of the sour deal, it was too late to offer my father a bailout, but he did offer me a job here at his company. Where I am now suits me, but I am always looking for improvement. Jared says this is temporary, until a position comes up which more suits my talents." Shayne didn't know what to say, his mind lingering over how cute Nick was being. Time made him snap out of it. Both, with elbows leaning on the countertop, Shayne does realize, they had come in, from outside, where they had been running the woods, hopping over fences, and then had stood there, wallowing in their own sweat. "Are you going to shower before breakfast?" Lost too, in the reverie of sensual thought, Nick says, "I suppose I should?" He should, but just then his cell phone rings. "I should take this." Shayne hopes it's nothing important. With no classes today, it would be cool if his new friend hung around for awhile. "Nothing important. My running buddies, when I didn't show up for breakfast at the canteen, they started to get worried about me," Nick says, pocketing his phone, inside the little pouch made for it, at his hip, about 6-inches from his balls. "Great, then you don't have to run off?" He didn't, but now thinking more rational, Nick wasn't sure he wanted a `boy' for a boyfriend. Though, he could sense such a longing, a want, in Shayne's voice, it made him want to stay put! "I suppose I could stay for breakfast. Shower first?" Rather than Nick finding it by directions, Shayne delivers him right to it. Come to find out, the loft only held a kingsized bed and a compact set of drawers, enclosed in a natural wood cabinet. Both pieces of furniture seemed to be in contrast with the metal and glass surroundings. While popping his head up, above the stretch of rungs of a ladder, Nick says, "oh, I see you have blinds up here?" Shayne was only half paying attention. It was the first time anyone but himself had used that ladder. Interesting, was the view, right up Nick's running shorts! "Um, yeah. Even though there's a fence," he watches Nick descend, "I kind of feel like I'm sleeping in a fish bowl!" They both get a chuckle out of it and then go on their way, fishing for the shower. "Everything you need is right here, or the closet, right outside the bathroom door." Nick's dirty mind read, not everything in the immediate vicinity, once Shayne left him! A cleanliness nut, once Shayne reached the kitchen, it crossed him mind that Nick was leaning on the wooden counter, which sometimes he ate off of. No fun sitting at a dining room or kitchen table, one you're a party of one! About ready to spray it down, he stops. Some places on the counter were still gleaming from Nick's sweat. Upon hearing a faint sound of water running, he thought it safe to lean over, take a sniff. Well, after two whiffs, the wafting scent just wasn't there. "Oh well," he chocks it up, giving the counter a spray. While mopping up the disinfectant with a cloth, he starts dreaming about how he missed his chance, experiencing the real thing, Nick's sweat from `the source'. So engrossed in thought, when the buzzer from the outside gate buzzes, he's stirred with a shiver. "I wonder who that is?" With only a week behind him, Shayne hasn't lived long enough in the neighborhood to make friends. Almost afraid to tap the receiving end of the little box, he finally gets up the nerve, "yes?" Energetically, he hears announced, "Shayne, it's me, Callum!" "Callum?" It was like deja vu, having just spoken to Nick about him, only to have him show up like that. It's only when he hears the buzzer, `bzzz, bzzz, bzzz,' he comes alive, pressing the tab, "I'll be right there!" So enchanted with hearing the voice of the only person who has meant anything to him in life, Shayne throws open the door and runs towards the front gate. South of where he and Nick entered, it's a longer dash, but he seems to run it lightning speed. Throwing the front gate open, "Callum?!" He didn't care how his friend looked, nor how he smelled, what he was wearing, Shayne enveloping his cousin in an armful. When Shayne breaks off the hard kiss, Callum says, "Wow! I never expected that kind of a welcome!" It's only then that Shayne stands down off his toes, studying, "you have a beard now. I like it." "Well," Callum says with sketchy detail in voice, "I'm not sure it's going to stay." Looking past his cousin, even though he might not have recognized Callum, with the ginger brown, scuffy overgrowth, "still got that beat up silver Silverado, I see?" With purpose Shayne recalls the dent in the fender. Probably he more condemned himself for getting it. His father never seemed to have the time and being the only senior in his high school who didn't know how, Callum took it upon himself. "Yeah," he smirks, "and it's still got the dent you put in it!" "You could have had it taken out?" "I know," Callum replies, "but some souvenirs are tough to part with. So, you going to invite me in, or leave me standing out here?" "Wouldn't want you to get a tan," Shayne helps himself to picking up two of the knapsacks, sitting at the curb. "You know us ginger guys don't tan. We burn!" "Right. Like it's not the first time I've heard it." So engrossed in seeing his cousin, who he has admired so dearly, Shayne forgot to mention his house guest. Walking in, it's not only himself, shocked to see Nick, standing there with a wet head, towel draped around his waist. "Who are you?" Nick inquires. "Who am I? Who are you?" "I asked you first." "I asked you second," Callum continued the cat and mouse play. However, before Nick can get another stab in, "you didn't tell me your father was visiting, Shayne?" "Nick, this is Callum." "Oh," Nick lightens up, "the great Callum," he steps forward, holding the towel snug, offering the other in greeting. Because he knew Shayne thought much of his cousin, he didn't let on about the `stab in the chest', well-knowing Callum was a member of the Hampton clan and knew he knew Shayne's father. "Hmm," Callum says, just standing there, still burdened with a pack on his back. "You can shake Nick's hand, Callum," Shayne says. "He's not going to bite!" Perfect opportunity for a friendly stab at humor, "Well, I haven't yet!" Callum does surrender his left hand, mumbling, "Nick, eh?" After a short giggle, Nick says, "oh, you haven't met Shayne's father. Yeah, the name's Nick!" Cluing Callum in, Shayne reveals, "Nick knows we're cousins." Caught in the crossfire of lying, or rather teasing Nick on being a daddy-figure, age key, Callum surrenders, "oh, so you know I know Shayne's father?" Also knowing Callum is gay, Nick says, "that's okay. You can apologize on your knees!" Regardless, Callum, who didn't think it too cool a response, quickly flashed a tiny smile, then flatlines his lips. Lost for words, Nick divulges the real reason he was standing in the doorway with the skimpy loincloth, "I was wondering if you had an extra pair of running shorts, Shayne?" Before Shayne could respond, Callum has loosened his backpack, dropping it to the floor, "I think I have something that fits you." Squatting down, Callum opens the flap of his backpack and begins to rifle through it. He pulls out a pair of tighty-whities and black shorts. Looking up, he snags Nick, like he was looking down his back, "would you be needing a tee shirt?" He knew he was caught looking, but skirted around it, "that would be nice." Tossing the briefs and short up, Nick caught them. Since Shayne was standing there doing nothing, "have you had breakfast, Callum?" "Had a quick coffee at the airport before I left. Food would be good, thanks." Before catching the tee shirt, thrown his way, Nick notices the exchange of eyes and smiles. "Socks?" "Sure," Nick responds, catching the white ball. "Anything else, while I'm down here?" Nick knew Callum didn't mean threads, but detoured around, "I think that's about it!" Leaving his gear in the hallway, Nick offers, "I can help you take your stuff to the guest room?" Very protective of Shayne, which Nick had a feeling, after hearing all about Callum, "I don't want to take your room away from you." Nick figured this was a good time to be frank, "I don't sleep here. Fact is, I just met Shayne today, running in the woods. Next door is a family estate, where I work. I stay there as well. As you know, Shayne has told me some things about you and him. I'm not out to break you two apart?" "We're friends. Not boyfriends." That Nick knew, but didn't argue the point. His concern was not busting up lovers, but the friendship. Rather dwell on anything else, "well, thanks for the clothing. I better think about getting into them. Then, I'll leave you two to your breakfast. I'm sure you have a lot of catching up to do." However, he was whacked out of his gourd to hear Callum say, "no, you can stay." "Really?" Realizing he might have been a little harsh on Nick, "yeah. I'd like to get to know you, myself." "Really?" First time cracking half a smile, Callum says, "really." "Okay, then I'll go get changed." Some other guy, Nick might've joked, asked if he wanted to help! % 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.