Date: Mon, 7 Mar 2016 14:39:05 +0000 From: TCHASE MCPHEE Subject: ?JoLLy RaNCHeRs? 03 % This work of fiction is set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons of habitats, governmental or non-governmental areas, farmhouses, nor barns. % 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. % 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 their own laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain `adult material', intended for an `adult audience.' Bypass this warning at your own risk! % 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 % "JoLLy RaNCHeRs" 03 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee ^ 0 ^ % Activity at the pool had begun going strong, in the early stages of making out. Harry had overtaken Steb, which could be attributed to his own doing. Wearing glasses a major force for seeing for distance, after they had made a connection, positions flipped. Steb, having seniority over Harry, at the pool, lay him down gently on a towel, shielding the shoulders and other areas against cement-inducing scrapes and abrasion. However, once into some heavy kissing, Harry thought it his advantage to climb on top. Unlike the softness of a bed, Harry tapped Steb on the shoulder, like a wrestler giving up. For Steb, it was not the case, giving up, but rather giving in. Whether he proclaimed himself as man-on-top, labels didn't apply, going with whatever the mood dictated. Thinking ahead, Harry always went with, he wanted to be the one on his back, feet in the air, or if his top-man preferred horsey-style, he wouldn't mind being on hands and knees. Any position suited Harry, being easy prey for following a man in heat, ready to plug ass! Freshly wet, from swimming, it didn't really matter, both wet. Pool water was most likely the reason Steb didn't feel Harry's tongue wetting his chest down, though the motions of `lapping' did stimulate him much. Whereas Steb could be a real sweetheart, when it came to levels of oral activity, he could morph into quite the glutton. Harry loved it too, sinking down, legs out, feeling his balls about sync with Steb's cock. It `tickled' him, the sense of his orbs divided in half by what he felt, a thickening shaft separating the two. One thing which turned Harry on, orally, was tasting, licking, swallowing the saliva produced by lapping at fibers of man-hair... There was plenty to be had, fanning out over Steb's pecs. Without looking, any man's tongue could tell the dividing line, when going south of the pecs. He had to stop, look up to see where he was, Harry realizing the forest of hair would not go on forever. Yet, when looking at the underside of Steb's chin, there was no wonder why Harry's balls were churning, his own cock wanting release from the skimpy garment he wore. Such was the sweet treatment, Steb had been worked into a stupor of beauty, which in turn made him moan in ecstasy. For Harry, he loved it when a man cooed, made the sounds of completely enjoying his `work'. It's something which made him more turned on, the sounds of a hot, sexual workover, lifting his spirits as well. Harry seemed to have the routine down pat. After all, at 52-years old and knowing he was gay since early teen years, there was much knowledge gained in his fulfilling lifetime of feeling and being gay. He was about ready to pull off the `purrfect' prank, sticking his tongue out and sliding it down the long stripe which connected the chest to navel. He had wished Harry would have lingered at his nips, licking, sucking, an occasional teething of each nub, but it felt sensationally weird, feeling Harry's tongue paint a line down the middle. In his mind, Steb had the notion Harry would skate right down, possibility of a quick in-out of his bellyhole and then open up wide... "What the hell, Harry?" Learning, by doing, Harry does a deep throat giggle, "They do it every time!" he sits on the haunches of knees, ball-bag barely touching Steb. "They?" Steb questions. Though, it happening to him, Steb not like other men, forcibly takes the back of Harry's head in one hand, faking him out! "What the..." Poor Harry, he wasn't afforded the time to think, other feeling lips smashed against Steb's crotch! Other than a few verbally spoken syllables of protest, Harry had no choice but the open up and accept. Like, with himself, his mouth opened to the feel of cotton fabric and what lay on the inner lining. Okay, Steb does realize being overpowering, releasing his hand, but sending the message, he wasn't happy over Harry's prank of sliding his tongue down, moving in for the kill, only to kill the moment! Having had his little prank backfire, with the release of his head, Harry picks up his chin, "That was the low-downest, dirty trick..." Without modestly, Steb cuts in, "I agree. Feel a little dry-in-the-mouth, cocksucker?!" Seeing he can't kid a kidder, Harry swipes Steb's briefs down, parking them under his more than adequate balls. This time he didn't need a hand to coerce him. "Oh yeah...much better," Steb settles back, "much better." Whereas Steb and Harry were very complying to each other and their wants, Evan and Luc were having a little trouble getting started. "Really, Evan? Are we even there yet?" No much of a thrill seeker when it came to long, drawn out sex, Evan and Luc had started out standing. After a few kisses and lots of hand action on Luc's cock and balls, Evan sunk to his knees. Luc, he didn't fight the feeling, but hoped there would be more cuddling and kissin'. Sometimes goodness wasn't as good as greatness, but when the machine kicks in and the revolutions start the wheels turning at super speed, there's no brakes in the world which can stop it. However, when Evan falls to his knees, dragging Luc's speedo with him and sucks him right in... "Oh, sorry," Luc calls out. A wall between Evan's mouth and what he was about gobble up, is separated by Luc, cupping balls in his hand. "I thought you wanted this?" a play on words, what `Evan' really wanted! "Me too," Luc honestly thought, "but I thought there would be more." What had made Luc realize, Steb and Harry taking it slow, Rusty and Adam, sitting on the lifeguard bench, talking and innocently exchanging kisses, "It's not exactly the way I thought it would go. That's all. Sorry." His balls were throbbing, Evan wanting it right this very minute. Regardless, this wasn't the first time Evan had figured a man out, only to be wrong, not interested in jumping right too it, falling over his ass, filling it. "Hey, don't worry about it," Evan says, cheerfully, even though a little annoyed that he got it up, only to be let down, "happens to us all." Standing, Evan consoles Luc, patting him on the shoulder. Then, realizing being there, the reason Evan even bothered to show up, Luc a fringe benefit, he heads out. Walking past the lifeguard bench, he shows no concern for the two lovers, tapping Rusty on the knee, "Hey, meant to tell you, I overheard Al at the pub, talking to some dude. Tomorrow he's handing in his resignation." Perhaps they were just getting to know each other, but with business, it often interrupts those glorious moments, Rusty saying, "Why are you telling me this? Shouldn't you be telling my father, if any one?" Evan was kind of boisterous in his delivering the news, so much, maybe he intended it for other ears. Steb, when he heard Evan speaking much louder than a chirp, asked Harry to `hold up.' Now knowing he had everyone's full attention, Evan did glance at Steb, telling Rusty that not only was Al about to hand in his resignation, but he was siding with Al and leaving too! Right after saying so, Evan gravitates right to the gate and takes his leave. "Wow," Rusty is astonished, "I thought Evan was a cool guy, but I guess not!" Having walked in on everyone, Adam says, "I beg to differ," he hadn't wanted to offend Rusty, thinking him pretty cool himself, "but I thought Evan had a chip on his shoulder the first time I met him." Which, Evan hadn't really formally introduced himself, not even getting Adam's name, except after Rusty mentioning it. "I don't know," Rusty honestly thought at this point. For Steb, somehow he had begun softening up, which also brought on an effect of the moment having been totally ruined. First person he lay eyes on at the ranch, at first he felt a connection between himself and Rusty, though not the kind two guys, feeling their loins tingle, the case. More, it was a father-son arrangement, wanting to share more than come down a throat or up the bumb! "Excuse me," Steb says, rolling up on his elbows. "Of course," Harry says, reluctant to allow Steb to unpin his legs from under him. Then, rather than letting him walk away, Harry follows, "I wonder what's up?" "I dunno," Steb simply says, walking around the corner of the pool. Harry did do a check, to see if he was still hard as a rock. More like a half-ripened pear, half-hard, some slimy stuff had seeped through his briefs! "Did I hear right?" Steb confronts Rusty. "Al quit and Evan is leaving with him, but I told him he should tell my father and not me. I'm not the one in charge." On first meeting Rusty, Steb sensed not much love lost between the father and son, which was the same feeling gotten now, "I'm sorry you feel that way." The two, having covered some basic history, Rusty says, "I told you how he could be?" Adam on Rusty's left, Steb sits on his right, "I realize, after you said so, but," he stutters. It was a complicated matter, of how Steb got to be there at the ranch. Sure, his brother, Clay and Rusty's father, Tim, had been room mates in college, maybe a little more than sharing a room for studying and sleeping, but it went beyond that in present day time. "I didn't get to saying this, but..." Harry slapped himself down on the cement, dropping his feet into the pool. He didn't exactly like it, the pouch on the front of his briefs looking shiny, so obscured it from view! "If you've got something to say, Steb, say it," Rusty turns his attention towards the 27-year old, whom he considered outright a friend. "I had come with my brother Clay, because I really didn't have anything else to do and..." "I thought you said my father hired you?" "He did," Steb answers. "Listen to what I have to say and then you can make judgement." "I'm not making judgement," Rusty folds arms across his middle, like standing up for himself. Adam, unwittingly bearing the brunt of what Rusty was feeling, places a hand on his thigh, "Calm down and listen to what the man has to say?" Evan though still a little pouty, Rusty says, "Okay," reacting like a tamed animal. Steb did not bring up old facts, which would have ruffled feathers even more, Clay and Rusty's father having on and off meet ups through the years following college. That was not his mission, especially whereas it would only serve to cause Rusty further hurt and harassment, "I came with Clay to visit your father because I didn't have anything else to do..." "But..." Patting Rusty on the thigh, Adam tames the lion within, "Sh-h-h. Listen." Rusty listens. "The reason Clay came to visit," again it hinged on the edge of Steb's tongue, about the gay tryst, he takes a deep, deep breath, filling his lungs to the brim, "to see your father through his cancer." That struck a nerve, Rusty suddenly filled with awareness, "Cancer? My father has cancer?" They had covered many historic bases, Adam and Rusty talking, while getting sweet on each other. Feeling it, without thinking it, Adam weaves an arm over Rusty's shoulder, connecting on the other side with a hand, leaning moral comfort in the matter. "I wasn't the one who was supposed to tell you, but sometimes opportunity presents itself," Steb says, touching Adam's hand, as he also lends support. Luc, who had lay down on a towel and kind of fallen asleep, slowly awakens, "That sucks." No one seemed to pay attention, except Harry, "Yeah, it does," his mind lingers on Luc, head resting on his palm, sitting sideways. The broader implications did not begin settling in, except one, "What's going to happen to the ranch?" For Steb, Adam, Harry, nor Luc, they could not being to guess, thought Steb can add some insight, "I would think the ranch would go to the next of kin?" The ranch itself was a good cover up, over his real feelings, which Rusty, feeling amongst friends, opposed to be with total strangers, "Why didn't my father come and tell me?" Apparently, on the road trip to the ranch, Clay and Steb had much conversation, starting out when they were teens, progressing to college life. At that juncture, Clay had told of both he and Tim had `weird' feelings about each other, though still felt attracted to more than the same sex. >From there, a decade of thought slipped by, fast-forwarding to Clay and Tim's future, talking about the reason for the road trip, so Clay could be at Tim's side in the last moments of his life. Steb, having to share this with everyone, about Clay being there at `the end', Rusty gripes, "Why couldn't it have been me?" Steb couldn't answer it. He could have, based on what he heard out of Rusty's heart. Though, no one can get the grasp on a complicated situation, when it has taken years to put the puzzle together. For Rusty, it has been a father, working all his life, with little time to spend with a son. Then, in the last few years of high school, without a word of explanation, Rusty is shipped off to boarding school in Massachusetts, a world away. As it would come out, from Clay's full confession, the reason would not be, as Rusty had come to know from his own thinking, a father not knowing what to do with his child, but to draw off the heartbreak and forthcomings of a dying father, his son out of the picture. What had started out as a simple explanation, turned into quite a lengthy recollection of words. Steb, Rusty and Adam up there on the `stage', Harry and Luc became their audience. As if a supporting actor, Adam was there next to Rusty, lending genuine feelings of caring. Slowly the pieces began to fall into place, Rusty saying, "So, my father wanted me out of the way..." he gulped, most likely in remorse for having the wrong impression all these months, "so I wouldn't have to be here while he was at chemo?" "According to Clay, your father didn't want his own predicament to interrupt your life and if that's not love, I don't know what is!" "I feel like such a Jerk," Rusty hung his head low. Maybe it should have been Adam picking up his chin, but no, it was Steb, "I would think, the way to take things, from here on out, is not to put blame on anyone, but to lend your support and love?" Eager, though not too over enthusiastic, just a natural reaction, Adam says, "If I can be of any help?" Taking the hand, which hung over the opposite shoulder, Rusty rubs his early evening facial scruff over it, "You already have." Steb looks to Harry, saying, "And what do I get?" Standing up, brushing both hands together, Harry reaches a hand to Steb, "Why don't we go find something to eat and leave these two to work it out?" With those two gone, Luc felt like the last button on a shirt. A feeling of no purpose, "I'm feeling a little hungry myself. I think I'll go check out the fridge." % For the past few months, while Rusty has been away at boarding school, the ranch, had fallen into decay. Not necessarily in the sense of buildings or outlying areas being laid to ruin, but feelings put upon feelings has caused a falling out among the ranks. Al, who at times forgot about this being the real world, would often discipline one of the hands with the threat of fucking him over. One night, coming into the cowboys' bunkhouse, drunk, he had threatened an almost barenaked man with his belt. Arousing a bunkhouse full of men at 2:00 in the morning, stripped naked, Al's intentions were to unload, in lieu of not finding a suitable pickup in town, at the pub. Wielding his belt, Al picked on a guy he dubbed a wimp. Waking him out of a sound sleep, Al lay his leather belt down, right across the ranch hand's back. Quick-witted, the ranch hand awoke and rolled out of bed, away from the menacing strap-handler. This was the beginning of an unhappy turning point at Cleg's Ranch. Without much supervision, a governing force, the ranch foreman, took matters into his own hand. Of course, the driving force was not to build up the ranch, but to break down the morale, all to the tune of satisfying Al's whims, guided by the throbbing of his loins. After so many had quit, walked out, along came Evan. Perfectly matched, top and bottom, more like dominant and submissive, Al and Evan were good for each other. Al, having formulated an interest in leather, throughout the years, had a desire to whip a dude before savagely raping his ass. Working without thinking, Evan lay there and ground his meat into a bunk, feeling the endorphins kick in with each lash of Al's belt. Though, nothing could more satisfying to Evan, feeling his ass-chute stretched to this limits. Ritually, Al pulled out when he was ready to shoot his big load. After all that sap had exploded from within, Al fell from the on-high perch and the goo would spread between them. In the last throes of pumping out, Al would rub his greasy, slimy load up and down Evan's back, with his own hairy-chested paintbrush. If it suited him to get hard again, more paint would be added to his canvas! However, it was not at all displeasurable to Evan, the stinging feeling warm and fresh, but the stimulation of his cock against the mattress, building him up for a hot orgasm. The few who remained at the ranch, numbering three or four, were thankful for Evan taking up the slack for them, the lash and Al's pent up emotions. Evan, he was okay with it, sucking down their gratefulness! % The ranch wasn't totally being forgotten by Tim Cleg. Knowing his illness might cause him to become scarce around the ranch environment, he set up measure for when he was out of the picture. Randomly, Tim had met up with Marco Veneziano at a horse show. This was going back years, while Rusty's mother were still alive. For Tim, it was a lifelong battle, trying to discover if he were truly gay, or bisexual. Rusty's mother had been the only woman Tim had cared for. On the other side of the coin, Tim was truly attracted to men. In all areas of life was in contact with those who may have an interest, in business, followed by a sexual encounter. Of all those men he had as side dishes, one, Tim would develop in friendship and business, his attorney. Trying to find sense in a senseless world of following thoughts and desires, Marco, unmarried, hadn't a clue to what his try sexual nature could be. Only difference between the two, other than top and bottom, Tim was tied down and Marco free to roam. Fortunately for Tim, Marco developed a true loving to not only gay sex, but a true liking for the ranch owner. It was only a matter of time before Marco became, not only a versatile lover, but overseer of all his business matters. % Soon as Rusty and Adam got to the kitchen, the phone rang. "Do you think I should get that?" Rusty asks, now getting the jitters over, it might being a doctor from the hospital, giving him the grim news. Instead, Adam says, "No, I'll get it." Since he had been appointed desk jockey, Adam had worn many hats. Playing switchboard operator, most of the time no place to direct the call, he had a pile of messages. Rusty stood there, still in swim trunks, watching Adam answering the phone. Of anyone on the ranch, or those he knew in town, Rusty had a strong draw towards Adam. Of course, being a teenager, he had feelings for Adam, beyond friendship. At first he pay attention to Adam, from a professional standpoint. Then, studying his beautiful, tall status, down his slender bod, to the swim suit... "Speaking of the devil, that was your father's attorney. Says he would like to meet with you tomorrow morning, out here at the ranch," Adam turns to Rusty after hanging up the conventional phone. First thing to grip Rusty, was not the view of Adam's crotch, "What of my father. Did he say anything?" "Uh, that wasn't him. Was his secretary." "Okay, did he say anything about my father?" Adam smirks, which meant `no', his teen hormones racing, "Nah, but he sounded cool on the phone?" Rusty pauses in thought, but without blaming Adam, like, how could he condemn him for the cute smile, "I see." Breaking the ice, Luc enters the fragile scene, "Hey, find anything to eat?" In a daze, Rusty says, "Um, no. It's every man for himself." "Every man for himself, eh?" Adam says, without breaking his gaze. Already having felt something for Adam, Rusty walks over to him, butting stomachs, "Thanks for getting the phone." Adam, an inch or two taller, a cocky smile on his face, says, "Oh, you're welcome. No problem." When it came to sexuality, they both were homo's, but in Adam, Rusty saw his new boyfriend's sense of humor kind of on the straight side, "No problem, eh? That's good." In not time at all, Luc had picked different foods out of the refrigerator and arranged a small banquet. Proud of himself, he announces, "As I see it, you boys have a choice; get a room or eat at the table?" The kitchen quite spacious, needed to feed a bunkhouse of cowboys, aside from the large prep table, there was a small kitchen table, of which Rusty led Adam over to. "What's all this?" That pride showing through, Luc says, "Oh, just something I threw together at the spur of the moment!" Adam thinks, "Are you a chef in your spare time?" Between Adam and the chow on the table, laid out in a fashionable style, Rusty had mostly forgotten about his father. One of the things Adam did tell Rusty, Luc listening in, "they were doing all they could for father and for the fact Steb's brother is there, it's helping to lift his spirits." "Someone using my name, without my permission?" Trailing Steb into the kitchen, Harry and he were more formal than three dudes naked from the waist up. Overlooking Steb's comment, Rusty says, "Going somewhere, Steb?" He didn't let on to him and Harry finding a bunk-bed, in the olden days, serving a head ranch hand, instead, "Harry and me are headed into town," Steb moves both fists around in circles, "to do some of those line-dancing moves!" Luc, more the expert of things, though it seemed, is the first to relate, "I don't think those club moves are going to do it for you, Steb?" Coming out of his catacomb of silence, Harry says, "How `bout yourself, Luc? Maybe you want to show us the way?" "Hmm," Steb eyes up the fuzz mid-chest, waiting for Luc's answer. Before leaving the pool, Luc had popped his cowboy hat on his head, hadn't taken it off, nor the sun-shades, "Sure, why not?" he grabs up 2 slices of bread, 1 lettuce leaf, some bologna and cheese. "You're not going like that, Luc, are you?" Rusty asks. Stuffing his mouth, food spat out in little pieces, Luc saying, "I'll meet you out front in 5!" With Luc gone, Adam realizes, "Kind of quiet in here, now?" Holding the remnants of a bologna sandwich in both hands, but not chewing, Rusty says, "What did you say?" Instead of what he said, Adam says, "You've been playing with your food for the past five minutes." Dropping what was mostly bread, Rusty laments, "Y'know, maybe we should go to the hospital and check out my dad?" Adam could have guessed what was on Rusty's mind. In a way, he was glad Luc monopolized the conversation, telling about how his grandfather taught him all about his days as a chef at some fancy French restaurant. "I know you two weren't close, but I think you can see the real reason why he sent you off to private school for 2 years? Why don't we get ready?" "You...you want to go with me?" "Why else am I gonna do...swim at the pool with a bunch of ghosts?" Rusty and Adam did make it to the hospital, but his dad was sleeping. The receptionist said it could be quite a long wait, midnight or early morning. Adam whispers in Rusty's ear, "Ask to see his doctor." Wanting to know the true nature of his father's condition, Rusty takes advice, "Can I at least see his doctor?" Small town, the hospital had only 3 doctors. "Dr. West," she looks towards the elevator, doors opening, "is currently not on duty." Alert, Adam caught her gaze and seeing a nicely dressed `suit', necktie hanging down, signifying the end of a long day, dares to call out, "Dr. West?" >From looking at a journal, he looks up, "That's me. Who might I be talking to?" his eyes were glued on Adam. "I'm Adam," Adam places a hand to his chest in ownership of the name, "but I'm asking for my friend, Rusty." "Hi," Rusty says, "I'm Rusty Cleg. I was wondering how my father was doing?" Adding a charming smile to his deep copper skin, the doctor was beautiful and also witty, "Yes. I can see the resemblance. I'm honored to meet you, Rusty." Rusty did wonder about the `honor' being bestowed upon him, "Thanks." The receptionist cut in to apologize, but Dr. West said it wasn't her fault. For certain, he was more than happy to be interrupted from his boring magazine article. "So, how is he," Rusty presses, "unless off the clock?" "Well, I am at the hospital, but if you two would like to join me for some supper, we can talk, `off the clock?'" While Dr. West checked out at the receptionist, Rusty and Adam hung back by the elevator. "Um, I know we're here about your father, but I think Dr. West...he's kind of...you know?" "Hot?" Rusty smiles. They weren't talking to each, not with their eyes forward, on the reception desk. "I wonder if..." "Yeah, me too," Rusty says, on the same `gay' wavelength. "Or else he wouldn't have invited us out to dinner?" Rusty replies, "Unless he's just being nice?" "No," Adam differs, "if he was being nice, he would have given you a quick diagnosis and that's it." "Or, maybe he doesn't have anything to do, but go home and watch reruns of General Hospital?" "I don't think he's the type," Adam says. "More a sci-fi fan, I would guess." "What makes you say that?" Rusty asks. "He was reading a science magazine." "Really Adam? I doubt Scientific American is about Star Wars!" "It's not?" Dr. West approaches. "Here he comes." "Ready for dinner, my treat?" Dr. West asks, walking right past the duo. Hastily following, Rusty says, "I think we should pay for our own." "No. No bother. Not where we're going," West says. As it turns out, Dr. West saves on gas by riding his bicycle to work. Rusty had taken one of the ranch trucks, so it was easy to toss it in the back. It became a contest, Adam and West figuring out who was going to sit on who's lap. Adam won out, the doc underneath his bumb! "So, Dr. West, how long have you been at the hospital?" "We're off hospital grounds. It's safe to call me Ricky and I've been there less than a year." Adam was deeply concerned about something, "Mind if I ask a personal question." "Sure. Ask me anything you like. I will then tell you if it's too personal. But I might answer anyway...then again, maybe not." "Great," Rusty says, "I'm glad we got that out of the way, Ricky!" They had both wondered something back at the hospital, Adam on edge about finding out, "Uh, I hope I'm not, `inconveniencing' you, sitting on your lap?" Rusty glances over when he can, "Adam, I hope you're not going where I think you're going?" He laughed out loud, Ricky saying, "I take it, your asking if I've sprouted an erection? Very tempting!" Appropriate time to step on the brake, stop sign, Rusty says, "You're gay?" Ricky asks Adam, "Did I say I was?" "Not unless it slipped by me?" Adam replies. Then they hear a gurgle. "Oh no, you didn't, Ricky?" Adam scoots off the lap, his ass on display at the dashboard window. "Get a grip," Ricky says, "it was my stomach. I had to skip lunch today!" While Adam reclaims his throne, Rusty says, "Thanks for cleaning the dash, Adam!" Natural reaction to brush himself off, Adam realizes, "Oops," stares at Ricky, "it's not how it looks." "Are you joking? I love hand jobs!" Now it was out, the three in the same love boat, "Make the next right, then a quick left." "Can't say I've been down this way," Rusty says, "but then again, I haven't been around for 2 years. Things change." They way it turned out, through conversation, Rusty talked about being away at boarding school, Ricky finishing up his residency and Adam, "Me?" he answers the question as to what he's been up to, "Floating." "Floating?" Rusty asks. Back at the ranch, they really hadn't discussed much, other than how Luc could throw together a meal without matching ingredients. All Rusty knew, Adam had run away from a well to do family in Florida, a snag, religion getting in the way of living `the gay life.' "It's complicated," Adam didn't want to share right now. "Well," Ricky says softly into Adam's ear, "any time you want to go public, I'm a good listener." "Me too," Rusty says in a concerned tone. Tapping the back brim of Rusty's cowboy hat, causing it to almost leap off his head, Ricky says, "You're so smart!" "I know," Rusty laughs it off. "Stop!" The abrupt command had Rusty stepping on the brake, Adam staring more intently out the side window. "We're here." "Where?" Rusty asks, not seeing anything which resembles an eatery, rather a warehouse district. Adam, with the same opinion, "I don't see anything." Opening the sliding door of the ranch vehicle, Adam says, "Friends, they don't use the front door. You cowpokes coming?" Class difference, between cowboys and landlubbers, could be clearly seen, the trio walking towards the drab backdrop, concrete wall with a shiny metal door. Adam, knowing from growing up good, says, "Servants use backdoors." Rusty jokes, "Maybe we can get Ricky to serve us!" This time, Ricky taps the front brim of Rusty's hat, "Don't count on it, pardner!" Regardless of the age difference, Ricky seemed to fit with Rusty and Adam's teenaged years. When they entered the rear of the restaurant, it's when the boys began to see a more intense side of Ricky's wackiness. Walking up to a chef, not in one of those tall, white hats, but a Seahawks cap, Ricky gives him a hug, "Guys, this is my big brother, Gonzo." He went on to introduce Rusty and Adam. Gonzo says, "Nice to meet you, uh...I've got to get back to the oven." Ricky says, "Gonzo, he's a little kookie upstairs," doing a little twirl of the finger twirl about his head. Perhaps seeming like he had a chip on his shoulder, Adam, knowing how some people can act, towards his own kind, "What's with him?" Ricky, having the sense of Adam catching on, "The less said about it, the better it is." Rusty cast an eye towards Gonzo, Ricky rushing them through the kitchen. For certain, something was up with him, paying `too much' mind to his work. Then, from the kitchen door, they hear, "Customer wants you to turn up the heat, Gon..." They had started towards the door to the customer area, only to be backed up, Kira carrying an untouched plate. Dropping the plate in front of Gonzo, she says, "Please tell me you read the part about, `hot'?" Even though she had reported back to the kitchen, to have the heat turned up on a customer's order, her eyes were on Adam. Of which, Ricky straightens her out out real quick, "He don't swing your way, sis!" Ricky's laughter became infectious, Rusty laughing along, Adam smiling. Not afraid of her step-brother, nor to speak her mind, "You suck, Ricky!" Kira then went along with her business, forgetting about Adam! While in a giddy mood, Rusty leans in, whispers, "How about it, Ricky, do you?" "It's complicated!" Rusty left it at that, but wondered about Ricky. For certain, he seemed more like the `suckee', than the `fuckee?' Bustling with business, when they exited the kitchen portion of the building, Ricky seemed like a different person. In respect, instead of a doctor, he took off his dress jacket and got busy helping to divvy up the plates among the tables. Calling out to the waitresses, he found out who got what. "Busy, huh?" Adam says to stir up conversation. "Yeah," Rusty says, following only one person, "he sure is." Sometimes Ricky would deliver a meal to the table and receive a hug, the patron getting out of her seat. Other times, he would get the same affection, only a young guy, giving him a kiss on the lips! "Ricky's not afraid to do anything in public, huh?" Adam was taking it all in. "Well," Rusty says, "I'm sure there's some things he saves only for the bedroom!" "Of course," Adam replies, keeping an eye on Ricky and a woman hugging, then right on, him kissing a younger dude on the lips. A flashback to his past, if that ever happened around his father, well Adam tried not to show himself, his gay attitudes, trying to behave as masculine as possible in front of his family. Adam remembers a time, when his older brother, straight, got the belt after coming home beyond curfew. For certain, there were smarter ways to avoid such treatment. Kira rocks Adam out of his reverie, pinching him at the hip, "Oh my god, you are so skinny! Come. We will fatten you up!" Looking to Rusty, Adam acts like asking permission. Rusty says, "Go ahead Adam. I don't think she bites...you don't bite, do you, Kira?" Ricky knew not to encourage Kira, passing by, hearing her saying, "Depends on how big the banana!" "Behave yourself, sis!" Ricky swats her in the ass. "Hey, watch the hands, or I'll tell your boyfriend!" Ricky laughs, "If I had one!" "Ricky!" Rusty sees a fellow coming from behind Ricky. "Oh good, Tommy," Ricky greets him, "get cleaned up. We could use an extra pair of hands!" Instead of plowing right through the crowded restaurant floor, Tom treks off to the side, headed for the rest rooms. At first Rusty bit a lip, but then asks, "Does he work here, Ricky?" "Does it look like he works here?" Ricky giggles. "Not really," Rusty says, a picture of grime covering the lad who walked in a minute ago. "When he comes back, he'll look like he does." Then, Rusty was left standing there, Ricky being called to a table, with a hot sauce complaint, "not another one?" Looking over the crowd, he searches for Adam. Seeing him, Adam motions him over. "I see Kira took care of you?" Rusty sits down. Mouth half full, Adam says, "I didn't even order anything. She keeps bringing it over." It's then, looking up, Rusty sees something more enticing than refried beans, "Wow!" Somehow, trying to turn around to look, and swallow, did not work out very well for Adam. He took a drink of water, "What am I missing?" "Looks like we both missed out," Rusty exclaims. Too late, Tom, who had a spit-polished shine to his skin, had quickly made his way across the floor and into the kitchen. He had no choice to rush, having exited the rest room without a shirt. With all the commotion, he and Adam see Kira, rush into the kitchen, then come out. She stops to talk with Ricky. Ricky goes into the kitchen. A minute or so passes, Tom coming out of the kitchen, still buttoning down the white shirt he was wearing. Coming to Rusty and Adam's table, he says, "Excuse me," he tucks the shirt in, started at the back, ending at his crotch. "Okay," he picks up a pad and pen from the table, "what can I do you for?" Choice words, Adam says, "I'm already taken care of. Kira made sure of that." That was easy, Tom turning to Rusty, "Ricky said to make sure you two are getting everything you're needing." About their age, Rusty says, "Ricky's your brother?" "Half-brother. Same mother, different fathers," Tom replies. Adam says, "Oh, so your Kira's brother too?" "She's my step-sister, but my father and Ricky's father are not the same as her father." It was a game for any of the siblings, trying to screw with the mind of anyone, whom did not know how the family tree branched out, or how branches could be fractured in so many places. Certainly, this did screw with minds, Rusty saying, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up a little here..." Ricky comes by, "Well, you taking orders, Tommy, or shooting the breeze?" Tommy says, "I'm going to shoot you, if you don't get the hell outta here, Ricky!" "Ex-cu-u-use me!" Adam and Rusty were amused, like a brother to brother comedy act. "Not to be nosy," Adam asks... "Be nosy," Tommy pulls a chair out, sits. Unsure how to put this, without offending, Adam says, "You said your father wasn't the same as Ricky's dad?" For certain, even though Rusty thought Adam to be shy, right now he had `balls', creating conversation over something which also spiked his interest. Out of all the siblings, light-skinned, dark, speaking Spanish, speaking some dialect, accent, no accent, Tommy was different from all of them, appearing to have some type of `Asian' influence in his dna. "Okay, this is how it goes," Tommy was quite the character, "and pay attention, because I'm going to quiz you both afterwards..." Rusty had no problem paying attention, learning about Tommy's family tree, about how 3 fathers produced so many children. Branches of the family started with Rosa's first set of children, the Valdez's: Connie, Jose, Kira and Gonzo. Next generation, the Pau'au family, Hawaiians: Troi, Manu, Missy and, "myself." Lastly, the Wests: from the tiny island of Fiji, Maurice, Ricky and Clyde. Tommy finishes off with, "And me, I'm the special one, because Rosa is not my mother. I think you gather enough from that, eh?" "Yeah, we get it," Adam sat there, chin perched on the base of both his hands, elbowed-up by the table top. Right off, Rusty says, "Tell you one thing, repeating back your family history, I'm gonna be a failure!" Adam wasn't so sure, but more curious, "What's do you mean Rosa is not your mother?" He adds his own mental thoughts, dwelling on Tommy's features: cute, funny, witty, a great smile. "Remember I told you, Troi, Missy, Manu and me were from Hawaii?" "I knew you said Hawaii, but who was from where?" Rusty's hands gestured he didn't know. `Big balls,' Adam had, both physically and as a metaphor, "You want to give Tommy a chance, Rusty?" "Fine," Rusty sat back, slight slouch to his spine, folding arms across his pecs, letting the other know he was shutting himself up! "I have a different father than Troi, Missy and Manu. That give you a clue?!" Rusty breaks silence, "I get it," directs at Adam, "but if you don't get it bro, by now, you might as well give up, because you ain't gonna get it!" Adam gives Rusty the frowny death stare, but cheers up when addressing Tommy, "I get it and now I'm ready to win the prize." Tommy hadn't finished every little detail. Sometimes that's the way it went, not having to explain it right down to the night Rosa forced herself on a gay man. However, things could deviate off onto a subject Tommy didn't want to travel, "Great Adam, but here's the clincher, can either of you guess where my bio-dad was from?" It was the first time Rusty heard Adam cut a joke, "Where is he from...Mars?" It was followed with a cute smile, flashed Tommy's way! "Japan. His name is John Miagi, but I never knew him and don't know where he is right now." He left off the gay thing. Did it really matter? What they found out, her children called her `Mama Rosa' or plain ole `Mama', regardless if it were her own flesh and blood or adopted. Of course, with every new husband, he had to adopt whichever children came before. After thinking about it, Adam is the first to shoot back with, "You're okay with it...you being born out of wedlock?" "Truthfully? I really don't care. It wasn't until years later Mama Rosa told me, when I when I discovered I didn't look like none of my brothers or sisters. Family is family. We love each other," Tommy did confess, "even though Gonzo makes it tough for any of us to get along with him." "Right," Rusty let it be known, he knew. Adam still dwell on, "Good, so you're totally cool with it?" "Totally. And..." Tommy sits there, not a grin on his face, but a smile, one in which it shows he's holding back on something. Picking up on it, like the taste of margarine to butter, "Uh, something you want to add, Tommy?" He was busting to, Tommy saying, "I found out from Rick, the three of us have something in common!" Rusty was really seeing a side of Adam, which had gone unnoticed until his last wisecrack, him saying, in a frivolous tone, pointing a finger at Tommy, "I saw him first." Jaw dropping open, Rusty says, "Adam, didn't your mother teach you to share?" Perhaps Ricky had some insight, reason he set the table up with a personal waiter for the night. "I don't mind being shared!" Tommy smiles. Adam and Rusty say at the same time, "Really?" then look at each other. Tommy says, "I have to confess..." Rusty guesses, "You're married?" "Married? I'm only 19. I'm still at the age to play around!" This stumped Adam, "What do you mean play around?" Tommy says, "You know, go down to the playground and hang around on the monkey bars?" "Oh sure," Adam tries covering it up, "I kind of guessed that's what it was." Rusty just scratches his forehead and smiles, saying, "I don't really know this guy." Adam was confused, "You don't?" "Forget it," Rusty says. "So, what's your big confession, Tommy?" "Well, you see, us Hawaiians and the Fijians are hold up at Ricky's spacious apartment. He's giving it up to buy a house and..." "What about the Mexicans?" Adam asks. "That couldn't wait till he's done, Adam?" Rusty scolds. Folding arms across his middle, Adam pouts, "I was just wondering, that's all, because he didn't mention where Connie, Jose, Kira and Gonzo were staying?" "Wow!" Tommy gasps. "Wow, what?" Rusty wondered what Tommy thought was so incredible. "Adam named the whole Mexican part of the family. Name the others, Adam and you win the prize!" Rusty sucked his teeth, on the edge of his seat about Tommy's unsaid detailing. "Um, let's see, the Fiji-ites are," Adam counts on his fingers, "Ricky, Clyde, Maurice and...no, wait...I was going to say Troi, but he's a Hawaiian, with you, Manu and Missy. Oh, wait!" They waited while Adam counted on his fingers. "Okay, I've got everyone covered, but you. You're special, because you're," for lack of a better word, "a hybrid!" "Oh boy," Rusty starts at his forehead with the palm of his hand, `wipes' his face down to his chin, "I think I'll go find out what Ricky's up to." It's like the two didn't even miss Rusty getting up out of his chair. All excited, Adam presses, "What's my prize?" Tommy had something all picked out, like having the winner turn a cheek and placing a kiss on it. With Rusty out of the running, he upped the stakes... "Us kids can't afford Ricky's apartment. Even if we pooled our money. I'm still in college, so, you're prize is," Tommy worried a little. Both, at the same time, he sat there on the edge of his pants, but what was in his pants edging him on, "your prize is, you get to have me as a room mate, until I figure out where it is I'm going to live!" Sweetly, Adam, coming out like a blossoming flower, says, "I like my prize!" Having bad luck finding Ricky, Rusty comes back to the table, pulls out the chair, sits, saying, "Did you get your prize Adam?" Before Adam could tell, Ricky finds Rusty, "C'mon, we gotta go." "Go?" "The hospital. Now. Hop to it!" Jumping up, Rusty accidentally spills the tureen of soup, but it made the others jump too. Ricky says, "Tommy'll clean up. You come with me." Unbeknownst to Rusty, Ricky had developed more than trust in the family attorney. Ricky driving, Rusty listened, "I had thought your father would have more time, but modern medical science has little control over how and why disease suddenly picks up speed." Someone close, dying, seems to cause a person to refocus, "He's all I've got, you know?" >From the family attorney, Marco Veneziano, Ricky has learned much, in and out of bed. Once Marco sensed he could trust Ricky, he unleashed a wealth of knowledge on the status of the father and son relationship. Of this, Ricky says, "I know." "My father told you?" "No. Your family attorney, Marco Veneziano?" "He scares me," Rusty replies. Ricky almost slipped, ready to say he was scared, the first time in bed, "Yeah, I was a little scared myself, when we were first introduced," not mentioning what a ferocious fucker Marco could be, "however, he told me how well you and your father didn't get along, the boarding school thing and some other assorted details." "He sent me away to boarding school, because he hated having me around. That's what my friends said," Rusty told, in a negative manner. "Your father was a single parent. Sometimes that can freak a guy out. That was only part of the truth. He didn't hate you. The real thing was, he didn't want to put you through himself going to chemo treatments and..." "Let's just leave it as, he `didn't want me around'?" Rusty was still unconvinced, but not for the right reasons. There was more, but Ricky thought enough damage had been done. Why put it out on the table, about the deep rifts between the father and son, which had gone back to high school days. Ricky figures, anything else could be taken to the grave! "I'm still not going to feel bad for him." Stopping the car, pulling over to the side of the road, it's the first time Rusty would see Ricky in a hyped up mood, "I really feel sorry for you." "It's about time someone did. About ready to enter the eleventh grade and I get shipped off to some high-falutin' prep school on out East? I should have been enjoying my last two years of high school with my friends, not to mention my horse, Hoot." "Well, that's just great. You put your horse before your own father, who, may I remind you, without him, you wouldn't even have a horse?" "Thanks for the diagnosis, Dr. West," Rusty pouts. Even though there were other siblings in the family, older than himself, Ricky was the one they all looked up to. With a one-track mind right now, lacking the knowledge of how kind-hearted Ricky could be, Rusty sunk down into his miserableness. "Maurice and his wife are parents to what is now an 11-year old son. Connie and her husband, Juan, are raising three children. Jose and his partner, are trying to adopt a child. The point here is, having a family is making memories. Three of my siblings are so blessed to be involved in children. Don't you think it would be nice if you could reconcile with your father at the last moment of his life and then be proud of him, rather than denounce his existence for the rest of your own life? You know, you don't have to dwell on the bad vibes between you two? I'm sure there are some things you remember as being good? Like I'm sure your horse didn't just happen to find you?" Rusty sat there, digesting Ricky's words. He developed a lump in his throat and feeling like tear-duct-build-up, "Hoot was the best thing that ever happened to me. I wish I had him at boarding school." "Well, there's something to thank your father for, not to mention, the care he gave Hoot, while you were gone?" "Evan said the ranch hands took turns taking care of him, until he came to the ranch. Then Evan took care of Hoot all the time." "Regardless of who took care of Hoot, you wouldn't have had a horse if your father didn't care enough to give you one. Don't you think that's `love', getting a gift your father knew you would like? I can imagine, the joy of you having Hoot, gave your father much joy knowing that?" Rusty looks over at Ricky, giving him a downtrodden look, "How come you didn't become a shrink?" Turning the ignition, Ricky says, "Because I like my head the size it is!" Still sullen, Rusty had rationalized it probably wouldn't hurt if he buried the hatchet, but still reluctant to drop all those years of hurt, of not being there when he needed a father. Pulling in a parking spot, `his' designated doctor's space, Ricky says, "You don't have to bother saying a lot of mush to your father. Just get to the point. And just remember one thing?" "What?" Rusty was still having trouble pulling things together, with short notice. "Another tip. Remember, you can start life over anytime and as many times as you want, which means, when you see your father, you can hit the restart button. You have the rest of your lifetime to make memories, be happy. Even though he has a precious few days or hours of his life left, wouldn't it be nice to send him out, as a happier person, make him feel good about himself?" The anger, nudge on his shoulder was dissipating, making Rusty less stern about the situation. Realizing Ricky was right, which began to lift burdens, take the grudge away he's been harboring for years, Rusty says, "Why did I have to meet you?" Lighthearted, Ricky says, "Yeah, I kind of have that effect on people!" Getting out, walking up the sidewalk to the steps, Rusty says, "I have no problem being `me', but the thing is, he doesn't like `me.'" "Well, be positive and you might be surprised, life not turning out the way you think it goes!" On their way in, Ricky tells the receptionist he's `off the clock', which was to reinforce he was on his own time and didn't want to be disturbed. Waiting for the elevator, Rusty felt a little woozy, a lot taken out of him from their talks, saying, "We can't take the stairs?" "It's being painted." Meanwhile, someone comes up behind them, slipping a hand over Rusty's shoulder, "Sorry about your father." It was the `scary' one, Rusty brushing the hand off, "Go away. You bother me." Marco's jaw drops open and for once in his life he's taken back a few steps, appalled at someone with the audacity to be rude. Facing him in the elevator, Marco stands there, watching Ricky, behind Rusty. "Sorry, no more room," Ricky kits to `go' button, shrugging both shoulders and smiling at Marco. % Copyright 2016 T. Chase McPhee "JoLLy RaNCHeRs" and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author, or you will be forced to your knees.