Date: Fri, 15 Oct 2021 19:16:56 +0000 (UTC)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 563  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH – PART 563 by Rob Williams

Chapter 563 – "TOUGH TALK – TOUGH LOVE – ROUGH FIGHT"

IN THIS CHAPTER

Zack and Miguel, two hunky top-men lovers, have quarreled and split up. The
tribe's leaders, Bob and Randy, try to heal the breach in their different
ways. Bob reasons with Miguel, keeping his own lust for the handsome
fireman in check. Randy's therapy is rougher on Zack. They talk, argue,
fight savagely in the mud until one rugged alpha male butt-fucks the
other. And the therapy works.
____________________________________________________________________

<><> IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER <><>

Two alpha-male lovers – the black top-man Zack and handsome Hispanic
Miguel – had hit a rough patch in their normally passionate
relationship.

Their last argument had become so heated that Miguel stormed out and drove
aimlessly around and found himself at the house of Jason, the young
muscle-stud fireman. To let off steam Miguel joined Jason in his workout in
his home gym.

Jason's well-known vanity led to mutual body-worship and a contest of
strength between the two gym-jocks.  Miguel won and claimed his prize.  He
tied Jason up naked in front of the mirror and Jason got the ultimate
narcissistic fantasy of watching the captive fireman forced to cum, and
then suffer the pain and humiliation of being butt-fucked by the hunky
Hispanic.

The wild sexual scene had helped Miguel forget his own domestic problems,
at least for a while.  Jason said, "Miguel, when you go back home, if
things get too rough with Zack, you and your boy Finn are welcome to come
back and crash here in our spare room."

It wasn't long before Miguel took Jason up on his offer.  He thought at
first that he wouldn't tell Zack what he had been doing.  But he had never
hidden anything from Zack before, and keeping secrets now would only make
the situation worse. Besides, he had done nothing wrong.  It was common for
guys to fool around with other men in the tribe and tell their partners
about it.

But Zack's reaction was wildly irrational.  "Fuck you, man.  You left here,
went straight to that narcissistic fireman and fucked him?"

"Well, you can hardly blame me – I've had zero sex from you in the past
few weeks, only hostility.  At least Jason wanted me, lusted for me, and we
had a blast – same as you do with Randy, Seth or whatever construction
worker you stumble across."

Zack went totally off the rails.  "Ah, that's it, is it?  I'm just this
lowlife construction worker fucking sweaty roughnecks in the dirt, while
you, mister bigshot executive chef, are banging the blond muscle-jock
fireman, who everyone praises as a life-saving hero.  Shit, he's just a
pansy male model, and you've probably been jerking off over his picture in
that calendar like everyone else."

"Zack, that's crazy talk, and you know it ..."

"And even worse – I'm not just a dumbass laborer but a black one, not
good enough for you and your classy new fuck buddy with his golden tan and
blond hair.  Dammit, I never took you for a racist but, fuck, that's
exactly what you are, man.  So why don't you take your racist ass out of
here and go back to your blond model boyfriend?  At least he don't have
dirt under his fingernails like me."  So Miguel grabbed his boy Finn and
stormed out a second time.

A short time later the tribe's co-leader Bob was anxiously discussing the
situation with his buddy, the cop Mark.  "Zack's boy Darius overheard the
whole insane conversation, Mark. Fortunately he knows from experience that
the last thing he should do is intervene.  I just hope Randy knows the same
thing.  You know how Randy can be."

"How Randy can be what?" came the deep voice as Randy came in.  "I guess
you're talking about all this bullshit that's going on with Zack.  Darius
told me all about it and I went over to Zack's building site to have it out
with him, knock some sense into him.  But he wasn't there."

"Thank god for that," Bob sighed.  "Randy, please, please promise me one
thing.  Do not confront Zack, it'll only end in a massive fight – you're
like two raging bulls.  I have no idea what the solution to this mess is,
but it sure as hell ain't fists."

"Ah," Randy said, "Zack's a good guy, real solid normally.  But I see his
point – Miguel had no right to hightail it down to Jason's and fuck him.
Of course Zack got mad ... so would I."

"Randy please," Bob protested.  "We mustn't take sides.  Zack is behaving
irrationally but we have to be ready to help both of them – only when
they ask for it.  But you're right, you probably would have behaved like
Zack – god knows you have in the past.

"See, there's a parallel here between those two and us, Randy.  I think at
the root of this is Zack's fear of losing Miguel.  When a macho guy like
Zack feels passion for a man, as he does for Miguel, and you do for me,
he's gonna imagine all sorts of crazy things.

Randy grunted.  "Yeah, OK, I see what you're saying buddy.  I guess in the
past I was scared you would leave me and I did get kinda rough on you.  But
I wasn't used to being in love with a guy, I was nuts about you and I did
what came natural to me, to scare you into staying."

Mark grinned.  "It might surprise you to learn, Randy, that when most guys
have relationship problems they talk it out, maybe get help from a shrink.
But guys like you and Zack have animal instincts.  The caveman emerges from
his cave, grabs the guy by the hair and beats him into submission.  So Bob,
what's your advice here?"

"It's a tough one, but right now we should not get directly involved –
lie low and wait for the dust to settle.  And talking of shrinks, Mark,
I'll have a word with Doc Steve and get his input."

Doc Steve agreed with Bob. "Your advice to the guys to keep a low profile
is good.  But there is maybe one thing you could do discretely.  A
flashpoint right now for Zack would be the thought of Miguel living with
Jason. His raging mind will be cooking up all kinds of wild fantasies.  So
maybe you could suggest another place for Miguel and Finn to hole up until
tempers have cooled.  Physical distance is a good thing right now, but the
Jason connection is not."

Bob had an idea, and called Nate.  "You've been doing a great job with
those new boys of yours, Noah and Vic, and I, er, was wondering if you've
given thought to their living situation."

"Actually, sir, I've just now been talking to them `cos I want us to live
together.  Adam and Chad have offered us the old guesthouse on their
grounds.  It needs a bunch of work, and the boys themselves suggested we
move in right away and do the place up while we're living there.  I liked
the idea, `cos it would be great for them to play a major part in
redecorating our home."

"Nate, I like your thinking," Bob smiled.  "And that would free up the
boys' current apartment over the office."  After the call Bob sighed with
relief, and his twins asked what he thought would happen next.

"Guys, I have no idea.  When you're dealing with macho egos like Zack and
Miguel, and you throw passion into the mix, it's anyone's guess.  I know
this after years with one of the most macho of men, with a healthy ego and
soaring passion – Randy, god love him."

========= CHAPTER 563 =========

<><> BOB & THE TWINS STRATEGIZE <><>

Bob was conflicted about how to handle the latest problem in the tribe.

He was alone with his boys – the twins Kyle and Kevin – and he ran
his options by them.  In the past he had found that talking with them
helped him in difficult decisions.

"Thing is, boys, you've heard me say time and again that we can't take
sides in the emotional upheaval between Zack and Miguel.  On the other
hand, we have an obligation, as their closest friends, to help them behind
the scenes.  But steering clear, and offering assistance, are two
conflicting ideas.  We have to finesse this."

Kyle said, "Doc Steve said the first thing, sir, is to sound out Miguel
about moving out of Jason's and into Vic and Noah's apartment as soon as
they've left."

"Steve is right, Kyle.  I think the boys will be eager to move out right
away and set up home with Nate, the big brother they love, in that old
guesthouse of Adam's and Chad's.  My guess is they'll be out tomorrow.  No,
that's not the problem. My dilemma is how to approach Miguel without
looking as if I'm taking his side in the dispute.

"Why not a simple phone call, sir?" Kevin asked.

"No, in delicate situations like this I like to meet face to face, make eye
contact.  That way I can judge the other guy's mood and measure my approach
accordingly."

The twins looked at each other, wordlessly communicating as they did so
often.  "Sir," Kevin said, "we think that if you go see him you should go
unannounced.  That way you'll gauge how he's feeling without giving him
time to prepare an answer and put on a good face."

"You read my mind, boys.  It's not very polite to drop in without phoning
first, but this is one of those times when necessity trumps good manners.
Besides," Bob smiled, "I confess I'm curious to find out what's behind all
this.  I think I'll strike while the iron's hot ..."

"... maybe not the best metaphor, sir," Kye grinned.

"Maybe so, Kyle," Bob chuckled.  "What I meant is, I should probably go
right away."

"Good luck, sir.  We'll keep our fingers crossed."

<><> BOB & MIGUEL COMPARE NOTES <><>

On the short drive down to Jason's house by the Arroyo Seco, Bob tried to
work out how he should approach the subject with Miguel, to produce the
best result with the least damage or hurt feelings.  He had rehearsed a
whole script on what he would say, but he jettisoned it as soon as he
walked through the gate and saw Miguel sitting morosely in the garden
staring into space.

He looked up at Bob who said, "Miguel, I'm sorry to drop by without phoning
first, and if you want me to leave just saw the word."

Miguel's face broke into a bright smile.  "Don't you dare leave, buddy.  I
was sitting here feeling sorry for myself and just seeing you is like a
tonic.  Sit yourself down.  Jason had to go to his fire station for an hour
or two, and his boy Ben is about to bring out some beers."

Bob sat facing him.  "Miguel, before anything else I want to make one thing
clear.  My coming here does not mean I'm taking sides between you and Zack.
I've told everybody to avoid doing that – this thing is between you two
and only you can solve it.  I just came to see if there is anything
practical I can do in the meantime."

Ben came running out with a six pack of beers, followed by, of all people,
Eddie, holding the camera he had lent to Ben.  Naturally, Eddie was the
first one to speak ... and speak.

"Hello, sir, I'm glad you're here `cos you'll be the first to see the video
Ben shot of Miguel and Jason doing their gym workout.  And wow, it is so
much more than a workout.  He's got some terrific footage, way sexy ... you
will not believe.  This is gonna be a ratings hit with the boys when they
see it."

"Hey, hey, slow down, Eddie," Bob interrupted, talking over him.  "First of
all, you are not to show that to anyone for now.  You're right that it
would create a sensation, but not the kind you mean.  It would be like
pouring gasoline on the fire when word gets around, especially to Zack."

Eddie looked crestfallen.  "Oh, yeah, I see what you mean, sir."  He
brightened.  "Never mind it'll give me a chance to edit it properly.  And
guess what, I'm gonna score some of my videos.  That's a professional term
in my business for adding background music, sir.  The guys at Warner
Studios have let me watch as they add in the music to scenes on Grady's
movie.  I learn fast, sir, and I wanna have a go myself.

"I mean, just imagine, sir, a hot scene like this one with dramatic music
in the background.  Hassan's helped me put together a whole studio in our
basement, where I edit my videos and now add music.  It's soundproof and
Hassan's been great about getting soundboard equipment and stuff.  It looks
way professional, sir, you should visit.  Like I said to Hassan ..."

He stopped abruptly.  "Oops, talking too much, I can see from your face,
sir.  I know that `zip-it' expression – I see it all the time from other
guys, and I can take a hint."  Miming a zip, Eddie ran his fingers tips
across pursed lips and turned a key at the end.

Ben said, "Hey dude, let's go inside and run it again and you can show me
how you do it."

They turned to walk away and Ben looked over his shoulder and winked.  He
got a thumbs-up from Bob, who then twisted the top off a beer bottle, took
a gulp and grinned at Miguel.  "You gotta love the kid, all that energy and
enthusiasm.  Jamie said Eddie's way popular at the studio and, like he
said, he learns fast.  The boy has a great future as a cameraman or
editor."

Miguel agreed.  "I know, dude.  I heard Hassan say how proud he was of him.
For me, I could just sit back, close my eyes and let him talk all day.
Takes my mind off other things."

"Ah, other things," Bob grinned.  "I wondered when we'd get around to them.
Like I said, Miguel before we were interrupted, I came to see if I could
help in any way – like, maybe you needed someone to talk to?"

"And Bob, there's no one I'd rather talk to than you.  I know you'll be
impartial and not take sides."  Miguel frowned.  "It's just ... just that
I'm kinda drifting, dude ... like I'm drowning."  His eyes filled with
tears as he let go with the sympathetic Bob.

Bob touched his arm.  "Miguel, if it's any comfort, I know just what you're
going through.  I've been there so many times in the past with Randy.
Let's see now – things seem to be unraveling and you don't know why
... the petty sniping about trivial nothings.  Why is he yelling at me?  Is
it something I did or said that set him off?  Has our love turned to hate?"

Miguel smiled ruefully.  "That pretty much covers it, dude.  You really
have been there."  "Let me ask you one basic thing, Miguel.  Do you still
love Zack?"

"Of course I do, Bob.  I've been in love with the guy since that first
night in a motel where I had sex with a guy for the first time in my life.
My love for Zack hasn't changed.  I'm damned if I know what has.  Was it
like that with you and Randy?"

"It was.  And looking back I have a clearer picture about what happened.
See, right from the start the passion we felt for each other was a shock.
I mean, we were so different.  There's me, the sophisticated senior
vice-president of a finance company in posh Marin County, running away from
a bad marriage.  And Randy, a construction worker from the mean streets of
West Texas living in a cheap motel and fucking the local barmaid several
times a week.

"Of course, Randy felt that difference and for the first time the tough
alpha- male felt intimidated, out of his depth.  He had no idea what was
going on – all he knew was he was scared I'd leave him.  After a long
while he got over that, but then – and here's the deal – as we
settled down to a domestic routine something else worried him.  Life became
kinda placid, the sex became more routine, less urgent somehow, though
still physically passionate."

"I hear you, Bob.  I think that's kinda where we are.  Haven't made love
with Zack in two weeks.  Thank god for my boy Finn – he's been great,
still hot to trot.  But I miss Zack in my bed."

"Well, Randy interpreted routine sex as me going cool on him, and once
again that old bogeyman reared its head – Randy thought I was preparing
to leave him.  Unfortunately, that became a self-fulfilling prophesy.  We
split up – I went to one of the luxury bungalows at the Beverly Hills
Hotel, and Randy went back to the same seedy motel room where we had first
met.  That separation was the worst two weeks of my life."

"Dude, are you saying Zack's afraid I'll leave him?  Where'd he get that
idea. I fucking love the guy.  Hell, it was him threw me out, told me to
get the hell out of his sight and go back to Jason."

"Miguel, we're not talking logic here.  Zack and Randy are passionate men,
they are ruled by their cocks, and rule with their fists.  When Zack gets
paranoid about you leaving him, don't look for logic.  He becomes unglued."

"Damn," Miguel sighed.  "So you and Randy ... how did you turn it around,
dude?"

"As I recall we broke the routine.  Obviously, we still loved each other,
all appearances to the contrary, so we went away together and discovered
that first spark all over again.  We kind of eased into a second love
affair, or a second phase anyway – more mature than the past, though no
less passionate.  Oh sure we still fight, like most couples, but we always
know it'll pass, that we love each other so the basis of our relationship
is secure."

Miguel sighed.  "So you got any advice for me, Bob?"

"Only this.  Don't sweat the big stuff, `cos in reality it's all small
stuff.  Take it one step at a time."

"Yeah, your right.  The most immediate worry I have is getting Jason
involved.  What we did here together was probably wrong of me.  But I felt
so neglected and rejected by Zack that I need to be lusted after and
admired.  And hell, I needed hot sex.

"But I involved Jason in my troubles, and I'm afraid that me living here
with him will enrage Zack even more.  Jason is such a sweet guy and the
last thing in the world I want is for Zack to come down here and take it
out on him.

Bob smiled. "Ah, well there I can offer you a suggestion.  You know Nate's
new boys Noah and Vic.  They want to live with Nate, and Chad and Adam have
offered their guesthouse to them.  It needs a lot of work and the boys have
asked to move in right away and renovate it while they live there.  Which
means ... ta-da ... their apartment over the office will be empty –
probably as soon as tomorrow.  "It's a nice little place, great for a guy
and his boy."

"Dude, thanks, it sure sounds like a solution – it would take the
immediate pressure off.  And it's in the tribe's compound too, so I would
be with Finn, living separately from Zack but close by so he won't be
having delusions about me fucking my brains out with Jason."

"Good, I'm glad you see it like that.  I'll ask Nate to call you as soon as
the apartment's empty.  And don't worry.  If Randy and I could get through
all the bullshit we went through and come out the other side stronger than
ever, so can you and Zack."

They stood up and Miguel pulled Bob into a long, warm hug.  They both felt
their dicks getting hard and pulled away.  Miguel grinned, "Better not,
buddy, that really would make the fur fly – both Randy and Zack storming
down here – it'd be World War Three."

Bob chuckled.  "The old saying goes, `better to make love, not war'.  But
if one leads to the other ... nah better not.  Another time, maybe, once
this is all settled."

"I'll take you up on that, old buddy."

<><> WILL RHUBARB PIE OFFER <><>

When Bob got back to the Boss House he found the twins with Will, still
wearing his apron and chef's hat, having come straight from the kitchen.
Kyle asked, "Everything work out OK, sir?"

"So far so good.  Miguel and Finn will be moving into the apartment above
the office tomorrow, as soon as Vic and Noah move out.  The boys are dying
to set up their home with Nate.  Now we just have to get through this
evening."

Will spoke up.  "Sir, I had an idea about that.  I called Darius to ask if
they would be joining the main group for dinner, `cos we wanted the
numbers.  He said that Zack was in no mood to face everyone this evening so
Zack, Darius and his boy Ryan will be having dinner in their apartment.

"I know Darius and Ryan are no great shakes as cooks, so I thought it would
be kinda cool if I cooked dinner for them.  I've finished the dinner prep
here and I could rustle up something nourishing for those guys.  I thought
it would be kind of a gesture.

"I mean, you told us, sir, that we mustn't take sides but we should try to
help in the background. So I thought, just cooking dinner or them wouldn't
be taking sides or anything, it'd just be letting them know that we love
everyone, no matter what."  He stopped, and his freckled face blushed.

Bob smiled.  "You seem to have thought everything out, William, haven't
you?  It's a very kind thought and does you credit.  What do you think,
twins?"

"It's a terrific idea," Kevin said.  "We can certainly take care of dinner
here as Will's done the prep, and I'm sure a dose of Will's home cooking
would help improve the mood over there."

"That's why I love you guys," Bob said.  "This is a perfect example of
giving practical help wherever we can.  So go for it, Will."

"Thank you, sir.  And after dinner I would like to spend the night with my
step-dad Seth in his house.  He must be feeling a bit shook up and confused
about all this.  He would naturally side with Zack, them being fellow
construction bosses and all, but sleeping with me and making love with me
would calm him down ... keep him from getting hostile or anything."

Bob glanced at the twins with tears in his eyes.  "Come here kiddo."  He
folded his arms gently round Will and kissed him.  "Will, you're one in a
million.  The twins are lucky you're their boy.  There, and now I've
managed to knock your hat crooked."

"No worries, sir," Will grinned, pulling his hat straight over his shock of
red hair.  I'll go over there and tell Darius I'm coming, and talk about
the menu.  Something warm and comforting, I think.  And maybe my rhubarb
pie.  That always goes down a treat and makes anyone feel happy."

<><> WHERE ARE ZACK & RANDY?  <><>

"Rhubarb pie too?" Darius grinned after Will had told him and Ryan his
plan.  "It's great to see a friendly face up here, dude, and it'll be a big
relief for me and Ryan not to have to cook dinner."

"And this one's not one of my catering gigs, Darius.  This one's on the
house."  Will couldn't fail to notice the air of gloom in the apartment and
was pleased to see Darius and Ryan smiling.

"I'll give you a hand, dude," Ryan said.  "I'll be your kitchen assistant."

"Thanks Ryan.  Good job I brought another apron and chef's hat with me.
Where's Zack by the way?  He will be back for dinner won't he?"

"He's still over at the construction site – been there all afternoon,
though god knows what he's doing all on his own there on a Sunday."

Just then Bob came in and smiled, "Everything sorted out, is it, guys?"

"You betcha sir," Darius grinned.  "Ryan and me were facing the horrible
prospect of using our dubious kitchen skills to cook for Zack, but then the
cavalry came to our rescue.  Will here came in with his generous offer, so
we're gonna be fine – well as far as food goes.  As for the rest –
who knows?  You probably noticed, sir, that the sun ain't exactly shining
too bright in this apartment."

"Not as bright as it usually does," Bob smiled.  "Where is Zack, by the
way?"

"I was just telling Will, he's been at his construction site all afternoon.
He left shortly after that gargantuan row with Miguel I described to you.
Boy that was ugly.  He threw Miguel out of the house, then stomped out
himself.  Said he was going to the site and wanted to be left alone."

"And has anyone seen Randy lately? The twins said he went out but they
didn't know where to."

"Sure, he came in here while you were down at Jason's, sir.  He asked the
same thing you just did – where's Zack?  I told him and he left –
presumably to go talk to him."

"Oh lord, just what I was afraid of.  When those two tough guys get a few
beers down them there's no knowing how it'll end.  I just hope no bones are
broken."

"Er, what are you gonna do, sir?"

Bob sighed.  "Nothing, Darius.  I'm going to take my own advice and not get
involved.  Only thing we can do is wait – and keep our fingers crossed.

<><> THE OLD WAREHOUSE <><>

As it turned out, Bob's gloomy predictions were only half right.  As he
said, `there's no knowing' what would happen. In fact Randy himself hadn't
known what would happen as he drove to the construction site where Zack was
boss.

Randy didn't bother himself with the mental gymnastics of `not taking
sides' `no rush to judgement' `working through the issues' and all the
rest.  He went by gut instinct – some would say animal instinct – a
man of spontaneous physical action.

All he knew now was that his buddy – a tough alpha-male like himself
– was in trouble.  Bob would have said the troubles were partly
self-inflicted, but Randy had no time for shit like that.  The only plan he
had now was to drop by his own site and grab a sixpack from the fridge in
his trailer office before heading over to Zack's.

When he got to the site it was, as expected, deserted, it being late Sunday
afternoon.  Randy knew where Zack would be.  Next to the site there was big
empty building that had been abandoned.  It was like a huge shed with dirt
floors and a dilapidated roof that let the rain in.

He made his way there, prepared to `beat some sense into Zack' as he had
once said.  But his tough mood softened when he saw Zack in the middle of
the gloomy cavernous space, sitting on an upturned empty oil drum nursing a
beer bottle, with several empties at his feet.

There were pools of water on the muddy floor, and the last rays of the
setting sun broke through the gaps in the roof and wall slats and cast an
eerie light on Zack's muscular black body and shaved head, adding to the
melancholy mood.  He was dressed as he always did for work – no shirt,
black jeans and heavy work boots.  He was hunched forward with his elbows
on his knees staring morosely at the ground.

Hearing footsteps, he raised his head and growled.  "Didn't you get the
memo, man?  I don't want company."

"Dude, memos in this outfit apply to everyone except me."  Randy pulled up
another empty oil drum, turned it bottom-up and sat facing his old buddy.
He put the sixpack on the dirt floor.  "Here, I brought supplies, but I'd
say you've had enough judging by all these empties."

Zack's eyes blazed and he pointed threateningly at Randy with his bottle.
"Listen, man.  I don't want no asshole like you telling me what I can and
can't do.  If I wanna get stinking drunk that's my business.  Just get out
of my sight, 'cos I'm feeling just fine, never better."

"Not from where I'm sitting, dude.  You're a fucking mess."

"Dammit man.  Get it through that thick skull of yours before I slug you
– I don't wanna fucking talk to you."

"I'm not asking you to, bro.  Let me do the talking," Randy said,
controlling his usual physical impulses in favor of talk.  "See, man, I
know exactly what you're going through.  I've been there, dude, and back
again."  Randy paused to see Zack's reaction.  He stared sullenly at the
ground, then defiantly unscrewed the top off another beer bottle and took a
slug.

Randy was relieved to see he didn't take the other kind of threatened slug
and he pushed on.  He was unaccustomed to working things out verbally –
he left that to his therapist brother Doc Steve.  But he knew better than
to beat a buddy when he was already down, and talk was the only option
left.

"Listen dude, I know just what you're feeling because your situation with
Miguel is a mirror image of what I went through with Bob in our early years
after we met.  I was an itinerant construction working moving from job to
job when by chance I met Bob sitting in that rundown bar.  He was on the
run from a failed marriage in fancy-shmancy Marin County – a top
executive with a big finance firm, diplomas up the ass.

"To say I was outclassed is a major understatement.  Usually, I wouldn't
have had anything to do with a guy like that, but ... but this dude stirred
strange new feelings in me.  Me, who always got my rocks off fucking the
blowsy barmaid Sheila.  `Course I didn't know at the time that I was
falling in love with him, but I did know I didn't wanna lose him. I'd fight
tooth and nail to stop him leaving, even to tying him down – literally.
I couldn't compete with fancy words, but I could with my fists.  Sound
familiar, dude?"

Zack stirred, didn't say a word, but at least he didn't get up and walk
away. So Randy persisted. "So let's see here – and stop me if I'm wrong.
You were this rough, tough black construction worker who met a guy drowning
his sorrows in a bar, and you ended up in a seedy motel sucking his dick.
Drunk in a bar – sucking a straight guy's dick in a motel – sound
familiar?"

"You spend the next two years never getting him out of your mind, and then
you meet again.  And you know you're in love.  Trouble is, you're still a
construction worker, a black laborer with, as you said, dirt under your
fingernails.  And what is he?  Oh, just a big executive chef in one of the
fanciest hotels in the world, the Ritz fucking Carlton.

"But never mind.  Pure lust kept you going for a long time.  He was
terrific in bed and you were a black stallion.  That's where you were the
undisputed boss, when you fucked him.  Physically you were the ultimate
male, with that magnificent fucking body and face, the big man on the
construction site, a master with your fists, never lost a fight.

"But as I learned, Zack, class catches up with you.  Sex is still great but
it gets routine, and after sex you're still a construction worker and he's
still a big executive chef.  You start to wonder if he feels the
difference, wonder how he puts up with a roughneck like you.

"Your mind starts to exaggerate the differences and you come up with the
big one.  You're black – that's the big problem.  You've been put down
by so many racists in your time and he's surely no different.  You wonder
if he's planning on leaving you.  Yeah he must me, and that scares you.
You start to resent him.  You go cold on him, start sniping, picking fights
... stop having sex.  Finally, the crunch comes and ..."

At last Zack raised his head and his eyes blazed.  "Yeah, and what happens?
He hightails it down to that fucking narcissist Jason and they have wild
sex – a gym contest, body worship, bondage, and he fucks the fireman's
ass.  That's the man he really wants, a blond, tanned muscle-jock, a
firefighter who everyone admires and praises.  So I was right, he rejects
the black laborer for the white hero – that's what he wanted all along.
He saw me as this lowlife construction worker, fucking sweaty roughnecks in
the dirt."

"In your fucking mind, dude.  In your fucking paranoid mind.  Did he ever
say that to you?"

"He didn't need to. When he came back he flaunted it, confessed everything
like he was proud of it.  So I told him to get his racist fucking ass out
of my sight and never come back.  He went straight back down to the white
boy he'd wanted all along and they're prob'ly fucking their brains out
again right now.  We've split up, man.  I chucked him out and we've split
up."

Randy shook his head. "Exactly what Bob and me did. He went to live in some
fancy bungalow at the Beverly Hills Hotel, and the only place I could think
of to go was that dingy room in the motel where we first met.

"And you know what?  Those two weeks we spent apart were the worst two
weeks of my fucking life.  I kept jacking off thinking about him, lusting
for him, hating him, loving him.  And that's what you're about to go
through now, buddy.  Is that what you want?

"Not me, dude.  I ain't gonna suffer over that asshole.  He's gone, good
riddance.  Now I can get on with my life.  And if he begs to come back,
I'll fucking ..."

"You'll fucking what, man?  You'll beat the crap out of him?  Face it, man,
the only weapons you got are your muscles, your fists, that menacing growl,
that steel look in your eyes, and it ain't enough. You can't muscle your
way through this one, stud.  You're a basket case mentally, a victim, a
victim of your own insecurity and paranoia.

"Zack, I love you like a brother, you know that, but you've let me down.
When you put yourself down and say you ain't nothing but a cheap
construction worker you're insulting me – `cos that's what I am, a
shaggy roughneck in a sweaty tank and muddy jeans – and yeah, I got dirt
under my fingernails.

"But here's the kicker, dude.  That's what Bob loves about me.  I finally
realized that after all the pain I put him through.  You don't have to be
like Miguel, equal to him.  You know the old phrase – opposites attract?
Well, it's true.  So for god's sake, man, forget all this `racist' bullshit
and this deranged fantasy that Miguel is dumping on you all the time.  Get
your fucking act together, dude.  `Cos right now you're acting like a
fucking asshole."

"A fucking asshole, am I?  You might as well call me a dumb shit-for-brains
laborer, `cos that's what you're thinking.  I should a' known you'd side
with Miguel, dazzled by his looks, his body and the action-hero job he's
got, like he dazzles everyone else.  What chance does a lowlife like me
have against that?"

Randy was getting angry.  "Dude, you are really pissing me off.  I have
never heard so much bullshit pouring out of your mouth, like you're
throwing up.  Dammit, of course Miguel had sex with Jason – he sure
wasn't getting any from you.  He loves his boy Finn, sure, but a man like
him also needs a man like you, and you threw him out."

"Look asshole," Zack roared, "I told you when you came in that I didn't
want you and your fake fucking sympathy.  So leave me the fuck alone before
I throw you out – and you know I can."

"Oh yeah?  OK try me – c'mon, stud. Let's see what you got."

<><> CATHARSIS <><>

Randy had lost his cool, but somewhere deep down he knew this is what they
had been leading up to all along.  They were both bare-knuckle fighters
– the language of fists was the language they knew best.  So the fight
was on.

Rising to the challenge Zack roared, tossed his beer bottle clear across
the room and lunged at Randy, knocking him to the ground.  They grappled in
the mud, rolling over and over, whaling with their fists, straining for the
advantage.  In the end Randy was kneeling over Zack, pinning him to the
ground on his back, both of them smothered in mud.

"I knew I could take you," Randy panted.  "Brute force is all you
understand.  Maybe you are that shit-for-brains dumbass after all, so I'll
have to beat some sense into you."

"Fuck you, man," Zack roared.  He bent his legs under Randy, pressed his
boots against his chest and shoved with all his strength.  Randy went
flying, staggering back across the room and crashing against the wooden
slats of the wall.  Stunned, he slumped back heavily, arms hanging limply
by his sides, and Zack was on him in seconds.  He grabbed Randy's tank,
yanked him forward and slammed the back of his hand across his face from
side to side, ripping the tank clear off him."

All Zack's pent-up rage, fear and frustration now found expression in his
fists.  He stared not at Randy but at Miguel.  In a fiery combination of
lust, rivalry and retribution, the caveman had sprung from his lair,
grabbed Miguel and was beating him into submission so he would never dare
leave him.

Randy knew that a few more seconds of this and he would slump unconscious
so, gathering his last shreds of strength, he raised a fist and slammed it
in Zack's stomach.  Zack howled in pain and it was his turn to reel
backward and splash down in the mud.  Randy stumbled forward and launched
himself on him, but just as he fell forward, Zack rolled over on his side
and Randy literally bit the dust as he crashed to the ground.

Both men lay in pain, their breath heaving – two brawny, bare-chested
construction bosses, dragging themselves painfully through the mud,
desperately trying to regain their strength and scattered wits.  Zack
recovered first and crawled on his belly across the ground through an oily
pool of water.  With a last massive effort he hauled himself up to his
earlier position, kneeling over Randy, dripping wet, pinning his wrists to
the ground.

Both panting heavily, too exhausted to move, their eyes locked.  A weak
grin came to Randy's mud-splashed face and he groaned, "What you need, bro,
is a good fuck.  Always works for me when I'm mad.  Like you said, you're
just this lowlife construction worker fucking a sweaty roughneck in the
dirt who you just beat the crap out of.

"What if this was Miguel you had pinned down in the mud?  What would you do
to that gorgeous Hispanic hunk with the ass that belongs to you?  Come on,
man, teach him a lesson.  Show him who's boss."

"Fuck you, asshole," Zack yelled.  Newly empowered he ripped open Randy's
jeans, then stood up and pulled the jeans down to his knees.  He pulled out
his own massive black rod and stroked it.  "See this, stud?  I am the boss
– a construction boss, not just a fucking roughneck laborer.  I'm the
one who gives orders and guys obey.  Even guys like you."

Zack dropped to his knees again and lubed his cock with muddy water.  He
pushed Randy's legs back, boots high in the air, jeans round his knees, and
rammed his cock in his ass.  It was a brutal thrust and Randy's howl echoed
round the cavernous shed.  He saw the gleam in Zack's gray eyes and
realized this is what his buddy needed, a catharsis to purge the anger,
doubts and fears that had been plaguing him.

He was reaffirming his authority and manly pride that had lately taken such
a beating, and Randy sensed that Zack was looking down not at him but at
Miguel as his shaft pistoned with brute force in the captive ass. He was
purging his demons, making up for the weeks of no sex with his lover.  His
lover?  Yeah, his lover.  He looked down at the agonized face, and saw not
Randy wincing in pain, but Miguel.  The man he loved."

He slowed down and caressed the ravaged ass with his cock.  "I don't wanna
hurt you, man.  I never meant to hurt you.  I love you, dude ... I love
you.  I don't wanna lose you ... please."

Tears ran down Zack's chiseled ebony features and Randy said softly, "I
love you buddy." Gazing up at Zack he felt a deeper love for his friend
than ever before – love, compassion, respect, and the special affinity
of two powerful alpha males, brothers under the skin.  And Randy knew
Zack's words were not for him – they were for Miguel.

Zack sighed, "Man, you feel good.  I love you, man ... I'm sorry for all I
said ... I love you ... please, I ...aaahh ..."  With a final deep,
heartbreaking sigh, tears streaming down his cheeks, Zack tensed and poured
semen deep in Randy's ass.

After all the storm and fury there was sudden silence in the warehouse
gloom, broken only by the sound of dripping water and the heaving breaths
of two exhausted men.  Overwhelmed, Zack fell forward into Randy's arms,
his body heaving with wracking sobs.  "I love him, Randy, I love the guy.
I never stopped.  I've been a damn fool.  Help me, bro ... please help me."

<><> "I LOVE YOU, BRO" <><>

A few minutes later the two mud-streaked men were sitting side by side on
the ground leaning against the wall, nursing their beers and their bruises.
"Sorry about that, Randy, blubbing like a baby."

"Dude, will you stop putting yourself down.  Sobbing ain't sissy, you know.
Just shows a man has passionate feelings, and that's a good thing.  I
learned that from Bob."

"Seems you learned a bunch of stuff from your guy, Randy.  Not me though
– if I got troubles I can't sit and listen to a load of Kumbaya shit.
Like my latest mess.  Guys would tell me to go talk to Doc Steve.  I got
nothing against your brother or anything, and he's helped a bunch of guys.
But not me.  I couldn't ask him for help and sit on a couch while he tells
me what to do."

"I hear you, buddy.  First time I did that I ended up fucking Steve –
and we ain't tried it since."

They laughed and took another hit of beer.  Then Zack turned serious. "I
gotta work stuff out for myself, bro, but I'm fucked if I know how to
handle this.  Everything you told me just now is true.  All that stuff was
in my own mind, my own paranoia.  Especially all that crap about racism
– total bullshit.  Miguel never said anything like that and never
thought it.  No-one in the tribe ever has."

"Yeah, and if anyone ever did he'd get my fist in their face."

"Matter of fact, now I think back, Miguel always behaved like a gent.  Only
criticism I got from him was that I was talking crazy talk, and he was
right.  Er, tell me the truth, Randy.  Do you think Miguel was ever
planning to leave me?"

"There's that crazy talk again. man.  Of course he wasn't.  He fucking
worships the ground you walk on.  Will you get it through that thick skull?
You're not a cheap laborer – you're part owner of our company, a
successful construction company, and you helped build it.  Miguel's proud
to be your man, and he should be.

"Listen, dude, every couple hits a cold patch every now and again.  They
get on each other's nerves and bicker – usually about dumbass trivial
stuff like leaving the top off the toothpaste.  Usually it blows over,
unless one of them sees too much into it and his paranoia feeds on itself."

"Ouch," Zack grinned.  "OK, so now I'm starting to get my own head
straight.  But I'm damned if I know how to approach Miguel and start to
patch things up.  After all this I'd be too embarrassed to look him
straight in the eye.  Any suggestions, buddy?"

"Ah, I'm no shrink, Zack – I'm more fists than words.  Huh, maybe if we
had another fight I'd get some inspiration."

They grinned and there was a long silence as they focused on their beer.
Finally Randy took a deep breath.  "I guess ... I guess I do have a couple
of ideas, take `em or leave `em."

"First, I'd make your peace with the other guys you live with – Darius
and Ryan, and Pablo and his boy Tyler.  I know you didn't mean to involve
them, but I'm damn sure they were real shook up.  I mean you and Darius are
like brothers but he knew he couldn't say anything, could only stand by
silently and watch.  That's tough.

"And the young kids especially.  They look up to you, dude, depend on you
as the big boss, and shit like this scares them, makes them feel insecure.
I'm told that tonight young Will has offered to go over to your place and
cook dinner for you all.  He's such a cool kid – says it's his way of
showing you we love all of you, no matter what."

"I hear you, man.  Yeah, I can do that ... make amends to them, calm their
fears.  Miguel himself, though, that's where I'm really lost."

"Yeah, and after all you said to him he won't be so quick to forgive.  One
good thing you'll be pleased to hear.  Bob's been doing his subtle thing
behind the scenes and the result is, Miguel and Finn will be moving out of
Jason's house tomorrow and shacking up in the just-vacated apartment of
those kids Noah and Vic.  They're moving in with their man Nate.

"And on the subject of Jason, you've got absolutely no beef with him, dude.
He was just doing his muscle flexing gym thing and Miguel had built up such
a head of steam – no sex with you for two weeks – that he just had a
harmless fuck-fest with him.  Don't you dare go down there and `sort him
out' OK?

"The only other thing I'll suggest is that you and Miguel go away together
for a few days.  Too many triggers around here to remind you of all the bad
thoughts and words.  You might even go fishing.  There's a secluded lake up
in the Angelus Forest, known only to a few of us, and Forest Ranger Pete.
I've taken a rowboat up there a few times to sort things out with Bob.  The
place always works it's magic."

Just then they heard to door creak open and Bob came in cautiously.  "Don't
wanna interrupt you guys, but I was wondering ... you know, worried about
..."

"And here's your answer, buddy, Randy laughed, brushing the mud off himself
and Zack, displaying their bruises and rubbing his own jaw.  "No bones
broken."

"So you, er, you talked?" Bob asked euphemistically.

"Yeah, we talked, and when that didn't work we had a knock-down-drag-out
and that cleared the air.  What you never realized, dude, is that fists can
be more eloquent than words."

Bob grinned, "You're right, Randy, I'll never get my head around that one.
It's a language reserved for wild men like you."

Zack chuckled.  "You can say it, Bob – `lowlife construction workers
fucking sweaty roughnecks in the mud."  I've been hearing that a lot
lately."

"Wouldn't dream of saying it, Zack," Bob grinned.  "By the way, Randy may
have told you that Will is cooking dinner for you all tonight.  Dare I hope
a minor celebration?"

"Kind of," Zack grinned, "after Randy knocked some sense into my thick
head.  I better get back over there.  Randy ..."  He pulled Randy into a
tight man-hug.  "You're a real pal.  I love you my brother."  He held his
hand out to Bob who gave it a bone-crushing shake.  Zack pulled away and
rubbed his knuckles.  "Still a bit sore, buddy.  That man of yours has a
steel jaw."

He laughed and left the shed.  Randy threw his arm over Bob's shoulder as
they walked to the door.  "As for me, I got my ass ploughed.  `Course I let
Zack do it, he needed it bad.  But I didn't bust my wad, and you know how a
fight always makes me horny.  So the upshot is ..."

"The upshot is that you gotta have payback ... and I'm the payback victim."

"Pretty much.  And I won't even clean off the mud and sweat either.  I told
Zack, that's what you love about me."

"Well at least you got that right," Bob smiled, licking the dirt from his
cheek.

<><> YOU SHOULD SEE THE OTHER GUY <><>

While Bob was willingly getting his ass reamed by a wild, shaggy-haired,
mud-splattered construction worker, the other sweaty roughneck had just
walked into his apartment to the relief of Darius and his boy Ryan.  Pablo
and Tyler were there too and, of course, their topic of conversation had
been Randy and Zack and what was going on at the work-site.

The answer was obvious as soon as Zack came in – filthy, grinning,
obviously post-fight."

Darius grinned.  "You look pretty beat up, sir."

"Yeah, but you should see the other guy," Zack chuckled.  "And his ass is
raw too."

"Congratulations, sir," Pablo said.  "Randy's a tough nut to crack."

"Just between you and me, guys, I have a feeling he let me win and fuck
him.  He knew I needed that and, boy, was he right."

The door opened and Will came in from the kitchen in his apron and chef's
hat.  "Oh, hello, sir.  You survived then," he smiled impishly.  "Dinner
will be ready in half an hour.  You, er, will have a shower and clean up
before then, won't you?"

"Dude, I know you're a toughie and wouldn't allow me sit at table looking
like this."  Zack pulled off Will's hat, ruffled his shock of red hair and
planted the hat back on.  "Will, my boy, I wanna thank you for your offer
to cook for us.  It came at just the right time – these guys can't boil
an egg.  And you'll stay and eat with us, I hope."

"Thank you, sir, I will.  I may have to leave early `cos I'm gonna spend
the night with Seth."

"Good, I'm glad about that, Will.  As a co-boss of ours, Seth's another guy
who's been broken up about all this bullshit between Miguel and me.  Being
in bed with you, kiddo, will make his world come right again."

So Zack did shower, and he looked quite respectable again as dinner began
and Will joined them.  It was a big success, not exactly festive, as
everyone was aware that their housemates Miguel and Finn were absent,
eating dinner and spending the night with Jason and Ben.

But there was a general feeling that a corner had been turned.  Zack was
back to his usual confident self and on the road to eventual reconciliation
– hopefully. They knew there was still a long way to go and they had
their fingers crossed.

After dinner Will left and went next door to the waiting, welcoming arms of
his step-dad Seth – another healing moment in the long process of
smoothing the choppy waters that had rocked the tribe.

<><> A CHANCE ENCOUNTER <><>

That night Darius and Pablo slept with their boys, leaving Zack to sleep
alone in the bed he had always shared with Miguel.  Several times in his
sleep Zack reached over to touch Miguel and woke with a start, feeling only
empty space.

In the morning he woke early and decided to go straight to work, getting an
early start, taking refuge in manual labor and catching up on work he had
neglected.  He pulled on his old black jeans and work boots and was
crossing the lawn as Miguel came in through the gate.

They stopped in their tracks and stared at each other in embarrassed
silence.  To fill the void Miguel stammered, "I, er, came by to check on
the, er, the apartment over the office – Vic and Noah's place."

"Yeah ... right."

"They're moving out," Miguel said in a rush.  "I'm moving in with Finn.
Bob set it up ..."

"Yeah, I heard ... er, I'm going to work ... early start."

"Sure ..."  Miguel saw the bruises on Zack's bare chest and instinctively
reached out to touch them.  "What's this?"  He quickly pulled his hand
back, embarrassed by his own gesture of concern.  "I gotta go ...  those
kids ... waiting for me."

"Yeah, I, er ..."

But Miguel had already disappeared into the office.

"Damn," Zack muttered under his breath as he walked out to his truck.  "I
should have ... he'll think I ... damn."

As he drove away his thoughts were still reeling with could haves and
should haves.  Why didn't I tell him about going fishing?  Randy's idea
... I should have.  Nah, would sound stupid ... too soon ... but when?  How
am I gonna ...?"

Worse still, the sight of Miguel had made his cock rock-hard in his jeans.
He pounded his hands on the steering wheel.  "Fuck ... Fuck!"

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 564


Hey guys, this is Rob Williams. I hope that chapter turned you on, and I
welcome your comments and suggestions, which can be very helpful in
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