Date: Thu, 15 May 2008 21:51:16 -0600
From: Roy <roynm@mac.com>
Subject: Owen - chapter 7 - Gay college section

Owen

Chapter Seven



by Roy Reinikainen




Cory, Lucas' date, held the door of the restaurant for him as they stepped
into the foggy night.  The misty air seemed to drape the city, dampening
sounds and making everything and everyone who ventured out, move slower and
speak softly.

"Would you like to walk for a while?" Cory asked, turning a smile bright
enough to be seen through the fog on Lucas.  "I always like to walk in the
park on foggy nights."

"Sure," Lucas agreed.  He'd gone through the entire evening feeling
miserable about accepting the date his sister had arranged, and then
feeling guilty about not enjoying himself more.  Cory was a genuinely nice
person.

'I wonder how Allison found him,' he silently wondered.  He was just the
type of person who attracted Lucas, blond, a bright smile, seemingly in
need of someone to protect him.  A perfect description of Owen.

They walked shoulder to shoulder through the small drifts of fallen leaves
and the ghosts of trees, the only two people who seemed to be in the park.
From time to time they passed through a glowing pool of yellow light, and
then moved on into the damp silence, their breath hanging about them in the
still air.

"Allison told me that you're recovering from a relationship," Cory
murmured, barely loud enough to be heard.  "I hope you don't mind that she
told me."  He tried to smile when Lucas turned to him.  "She cares for you
a great deal, and thought that perhaps I might be able to get your mind off
him."  He gave Lucas a wan smile.  "I can tell I haven't."

"I'm sorry," Lucas apologized, warning himself not to fall into the trap of
feeling sorry for Cory.  That's what had gotten him into trouble with
Bailey.  It was what attracted him to Owen, that evening at the airport.
"I'm flattered that you've put up with me as long as you have.  I haven't
been very good company tonight.  I'm sorry."  Cory shrugged.

"Not your fault.  You can't control your feelings."

"Maybe not, but I shouldn't make you suffer along with me.  You're a
wonderful guy."

"But, I'm not Owen." Cory finished the sentence.

Lucas nodded once.  "I'm sorry."

"So am I."  They continued to stroll through the park.  Cory sought Lucas'
hand and they linked fingers.  Cory's hand was strong and warm, a mere hint
of what it would be like to be lying in bed with him.  "This Owen fellow
must be pretty special," Cory broke into Lucas' imaginings.  "Allison
thinks so.  It's clear you do as well."

"He's no nicer than you, Cory.  In fact, the two of you are similar in many
ways.  That's one of the things which has made tonight . . . difficult."
He snorted a soft laugh.  "The funny thing is, there is absolutely no
reason for me to be feeling as I am.  In fact, I don't even *know* that
he's gay.  We've never had sex, but he's got a hold on my emotions that I
can't explain."  Lucas paused, trying to analyze his thoughts.  "Something
makes me want to be near him."

He huffed another laugh.  "Call me a masochist."  Cory gave Lucas an
understanding smile and tightened his grasp on Lucas' hand.

"Well, just don't beat yourself too long, or too hard.  If you're thinking
only about Owen, you might not realize when another opportunity presents
itself."  He smiled.  "I'm not talking about me, it's just that I'm always
free with advice."  He laughed.  "In fact, I throw it around like rice at a
wedding.  No one escapes being hit."

They paused at the park's edge.  "May I kiss you goodnight?"  Cory asked.
"You may think you've been a somber dinner partner, but I really have
enjoyed meeting you, and visiting.  If things play out differently than you
hope, consider giving me a call.  I'd like to get together again."

"Thanks, Cory.  I can't think of another person I would like to spend some
time with.  Maybe I'll even be in a better mood."  Cory shrugged.  His
smile broadened when Lucas stepped close and gave him a lingering kiss.

When they parted, Cory blinked once as if bringing himself back to the
present, and smiled.  "I could become addicted to that," he grinned, and
then squeezed Lucas' hand.  "Good luck, Lucas.  I hope you find what you're
looking for."  He turned and after a few moments disappeared into the mist.


----------


Lucas closed the door to his apartment and sighed, leaning back and resting
his head against the wall.  "*That* was not fun," he said aloud to the
empty room.  He pushed himself away from the wall and stripped off his
coat, draping it over a chair, and then sank into the same chair with a
tired sigh.

He rubbed his hands over his face and stared out into the milkiness beyond
the windows.  'I've got to tell Allison to not set me up with any more
dates.  I can't handle it when they end up expecting more than I can
deliver.'  His date with Cory had been better than the first his sister had
arranged.

'That guy was as bad as Bailey.  He didn't seem to realize what the word,
no, meant.'  Lucas shook his head, sinking further into the overstuffed
chair.  He hated to reject someone, but was determined to not hop in bed
with someone just because they looked lonely.  'I can't save the world by
sleeping with *everyone*!'  He snorted, imagining a line of lonely men at
his bedside, and himself, exhausted, but determined to help them all.  He
shuddered at the image.  'Besides, it doesn't work.  I tried . . . with
Bailey, and look where *that* got me.'  He looked around the room, the
single table lamp casting a pale yellow puddle of light on the floor, and
another on the ceiling.

Since Owen left, the apartment was too quiet.  He missed Owen's accent, his
unceasing curiosity, his soft chuckles, and the brief touches.  Those
touches never lasted long enough, and always seemed to end with Owen
appearing to feel guilty.  Even so, their absence, just as the absence of
the person himself, left a void.

They had seen one another a few times, walking across campus, or in the
library where Owen worked, but those encounters had not been satisfying.
He had not returned Owen's telephone call, telling himself he was miserable
enough.  'Maybe I'm not as much of a masochist as I led Cory to believe,'
he thought.  'Being around Owen is almost painful.  I want to tell him of
my feelings, but . . .  I don't even know if he's *gay*!  And, if he is,
it's clear that his friend Sam, is tops on his list of potential lovers.'

He heaved himself out of the chair and headed toward the kitchen and the
coffee pot, feeling disgusted with himself.  'I've grown to like my coffee
strong . . . just like Owen.'  He measured coffee grounds into the filter,
poured the water, flipped the switch to get the entire process underway,
and then wandered back into the living room, the fragrance of the brewing
coffee following him.

'If I'm immersing myself in self pity, what am I going to do about it?'  He
thought as he stood in front of the large window looking out into the fog.
'I'm not being very productive at school behaving this way, and I'm not
very much fun to be around when I'm *not* at school.'  He traced a pattern
on the cold glass with his finger.

'Allison tried to knock me out of my . . . mood, by arranging a night out
with Cory, who happens to be a very nice guy.'  He grinned.  'She certainly
knows the type of guy I'm attracted to . . . fair skinned, blond, with a
nice smile. . .'  The comparison returned his thoughts to Owen.

"Damn," he muttered, making a decision and reaching for the telephone.
"The worst he can do is say is no." He hurriedly punched in the telephone
number.  Almost instantly, Owen answered.

"Hey, Owen."  He tried to sound cheerful, not sure he succeeded.  "It's
Lucas."  A genuine smile blossomed at Owen's happy greeting.

"It's good to hear your voice," he managed, suddenly unsure what to say.
"I'm finally returning your telephone call.  I . . . I miss you too."  He
cleared his throat.

"I . . . I've got a pot of strong coffee brewing.  Would . . ."  He paused,
suddenly feeling clumsy and tongue-tied.  "Would you come over and share it
with me?  If you're not busy, that is."  He heaved a sigh.

"Owen, I'm lonely," he said, in a plaintive voice.  "Are you busy?  I'll
meet you half-way.  Are you hungry?  I'd like to see you . . . more than
anything."

After his telephone conversation with Sam, Owen was feeling the same sort
of loneliness.  In fact, he'd answered the phone so quickly, hoping Sam
might be calling him back.  He was disturbed by the news of Jonah.  He
wished both Jonah and Sam were closer to one another, but they had only
been the most casual of friends.  When Owen thought about it, he realized
he didn't know of his brother having any friends.

"There's no school tomorrow," Lucas added, as an extra enticement to
getting together.  "You could stay over here tonight," he added, as a
hopeful suggestion.  That way, we could have breakfast too."  He felt
slightly guilty, dangling the prospect of food in front of the perpetually
hungry Owen.

"You're just what the doctor ordered," Owen laughed, delighted at the idea
of seeing Lucas.  "I'm pretty lonely myself; and you know how much I enjoy
a good meal.

"Just spoke with Sam, and I'm feeling sorta homesick.  So, yes, I'd love to
come over.  I'll head out now and meet you half way.  The coffee better be
hot," he warned.  "It looks foggy outside, and I don't want to freeze my
butt off."

"I'm heading for the door.  See you in a few!"  Lucas shouted as he hung up
the telephone and grabbed his coat.

He slapped the light switch, turning out the table lamp, and ran out the
apartment's front door into the hallway, smiling a hurried apology to his
neighbors whom he'd practically run over in his haste.  "Hot date," he
explained, smiling and turning to head down the hallway.  "Gotta hurry."
The couple laughed, their farewell wave going unseen.

He punched the elevator call button and bounced on the balls of his feet in
anticipation as he tugged on his coat.  Thankfully, the elevator cab was
empty, so it wasn't necessary for him to try to hide his excitement.
'Owen!  A whole night with him . . . sleeping together . . . naked.'  His
smile brightened even further, as he burst out of the elevator and trotted
across the lobby, heading out into the swirling fog.

The streetlights were hardly more than a dull evenly spaced yellow glow,
doing little to illuminate the largely abandoned avenue.  Even the light
spilling from the shops and restaurants he passed seemed muted, though the
smells made him realize he was suddenly ravenous.  He felt a momentary pang
for not being more sociable . . . and for not eating more during his date
with Cory.  He skipped a step and then broke into a jog, feeling like a
character in some second-rate romance movie.  He didn't care.  Like Owen
had said on the phone.  The two of them getting together was, 'just what
the doctor ordered.'

Owen glanced around his apartment and then grabbed his bag, tucking the
photograph of him and Sam into one of the interior pockets.  The bag
contained his most important possession, a new laptop computer, purchased
with some of the money the folks back in Riverton had given him.  He never
let it out of his sight.  The same was true of the photograph.  He shrugged
into his light jacket, turned out the lights, and stepped out into the fog.

Someone standing not three feet away, jerked in surprise at Owen's sudden
appearance.

"Wha . . .?"  Bailey, bundled in a heavy coat, twitched an uncomfortable
smile and glanced away before returning his attention to a startled and
suddenly very angry Owen!

"You're Lucas' friend," he said, without thinking.  "What are you doing
here . . . on my porch . . . looking into my living room window?"  Owen
noticed the curtains in his landlord's living room twitch aside, no doubt
wondering at his raised voice.  A moment later, the yellow porch light cast
the fog shrouded porch into an unnatural glow, the better for the landlord
to see what was happening.

Bailey seemed to be searching for an answer to the questions.  "Well?"
Owen prompted, stepping closer to Bailey, who, despite his size, moved back
a step, backing into the wall of the landlord's house.

"I . . . uh . . . I was coming to . . . to visit."  Once he had settled on
a story, Bailey seemed more confident of himself.  He faced Owen and gave
him what he hoped was a friendly smile, finally straightening from the
guilty half-crouch of a peeping-Tom.

"Visit?  People who want to visit, ring the doorbell, they don't lurk in
the dark and look in the window first.  Besides, I don't even know you."
Owen flicked a glance to the window, wondering how long Bailey had been
watching him.  "We've only met once.  Why would you want to visit me?  I've
got nothing which would attract you as a friend."

"I . . . I'd like to get to know you better.  It's Owen, isn't it?  Your
name, I mean."  Bailey stammered.  "Perhaps, we could go to dinner . . ."
His voice trailed off.  "Sometime?"

Owen's anger had dissipated, leaving him puzzled.  "I . . . I don't think
so.  I don't want to appear mean, but . . . I'm pretty busy, with school
and work 'n all."  From what he'd heard from both Lucas and his sister,
Bailey was not a person with whom to be friends.  Even so, his innate sense
of fairness overrode his qualms.  "I'll probably see you around school,
sometime.  Maybe we can talk then."  He lowered his voice.  "Just, no more
snooping around outside my apartment, okay?"  Bailey nodded, absently
brushing at the seat of his trousers, where he'd backed into the wall.

Owen turned, anxious to get away.  "Gotta run," he said, over his shoulder.
He held his bag tight against his side and headed off toward Lucas',
wondering why his brief encounter with Bailey had left him feeling
. . . dirty.  He shuddered from more than the damp cold which easily
penetrated his denim jacket.

Bailey watched Owen jog down the wide sidewalk, and then snatched another
look inside the now darkened apartment, before guiltily glancing to see if
Owen might be spying on him.  He straightened and sniffed disdain when he
noticed the landlord's curtains twitch back into place.

Bailey walked to the side street, to where he'd parked his car.  'He told
me to call him,' he told himself as he slid into the embrace of his car's
leather seats and closed the door, checking himself in the rear view
mirror.  'He really is quite a handsome fellow.  He'd be stunning if he
were to wear some decent clothing and get rid of that ridiculous accent.'
Bailey started the engine and turned up the heat.

'I really do detest cold weather.'

'Gotta get me a decent winter coat,' Owen thought as he jogged away from
his apartment, and then amended his vow.  'I'll also need a second job to
pay for it.'  He thought of his promise to his little sister to bring her a
gift.  He'd been saving every possible penny so he could buy both of his
sisters something nice.  He still hadn't thought what to get Jonah.  Saving
anything at all was difficult.  Everything was so much more expensive than
he'd expected; he was barely making ends meet as it was.  At the moment, a
heavier jacket seemed like an unnecessary frill.  He had vowed that he
would not, under any circumstances, dip into his meager savings account.

'Seems all I do is work and study,' he thought as he jogged through the
fog.  'Owen's becoming a pretty dull boy, and he's *definitely* not been
having any fun.'  He smiled, thinking of the night ahead.  'I'm going to
enjoy myself tonight, and not worry all the time about what Lucas will
think of everything I do.  I'm tired of bein' so damned careful.  He'll
either have to like me for what I am, or he . . . won't.'  The thought of
losing Lucas gave him pause, but then he remembered Lucas mentioning food
and his spirits rose.  Anything more than the essentials were considered
luxuries, so anything Lucas had in mind was sure to be wallowing in luxury.

His smile broadened as he scrambled across the street, holding his bag
tightly against his side to keep everything inside from bouncing around too
much.

"Hey!"  Lucas shouted in greeting, somehow pleased to find Owen jogging in
his direction, his ever present bag clutched to his side.

'Now, all we need is some violin music playing in the background, to make
the romance movie allusion complete,' Lucas thought, the vision of two
long-parted lovers running toward one another across a tropical beach
flashed through his mind.  'If only I could wrap him in my arms and kiss
him, as those movie characters would do.'  He slowed his jog, vowing to not
be so . . . stuffy.

"Hey yourself," Owen laughed, slowing to a trot and then to a walk.  When
he reached Lucas he gave him a brief hug.  "How's my very best friend?" He
asked, his smile radiant.

"Doing better every minute," Lucas responded, pleased more than he could
say when Owen continued to rest his arm across his shoulders.  The casual
intimacy sent a tingle through his body.

They both turned as a blue sports car slowly moved past and then, with a
screech of tires, drove away, leaving a swirling trail of fog behind.

"I wonder what that was all about."

Owen removed his arm from Lucas' shoulders and had suddenly become quiet.

"I'm bettin' it was Bailey."

Lucas was surprised.  He hadn't heard anything about his boyhood friend
since he'd kicked him out of his apartment, months earlier.  "Bailey?"
Owen quietly nodded.

"I caught 'im bent over, looking into my living room window as I rushed out
of the door."  Lucas' eyebrows rose.  "He told me he was coming by to visit
. . . to invite me to dinner or somethin'.  I asked him why."  Owen glanced
toward Lucas.  "He never did answer."  Owen shuddered.

"I'm thinking I'm glad I'm not home alone tonight.  That guy makes me feel
all . . . dirty."  He shuddered.  "Your sister hit the nail square on the
nose.  That guy gives me the willies."

Lucas laughed, trying to change Owen's mood, and ignore his own anger.  He
would *not* let Bailey spoil his evening.

"Allison said that?  The *willies*?"  Owen snorted a laugh and playfully
shoved Lucas.

"You know what I mean, skinny."  He playfully poked at Lucas' flat belly.

"Hey," Lucas laughed in return, pleased beyond all reason with Owen's
behavior . . . and his touch.  "I'll have you know, this body is solid
muscle."

"Yeah, right," Owen chortled, tilting his head back and laughing, and then
turning toward Lucas with a barely suppressed giggle. "Looks pretty skinny
to me."

Lucas abruptly stopped in front of a small Italian cafe and bakery, near
his apartment.  "If I'm so skinny, let's get some food.  I'm hungry, and if
I know you, you can always eat.  Besides, I *did* promise."  He pulled the
door open and the fragrances of baking bread and Italian spices swept over
them.  "You're a bottomless pit, Mr. Carver," he teased, smiling at Owen
over his shoulder.

"What'll you have?"

Owen scanned the menu, looking uncomfortable.  "I can't even pronounce this
stuff.  I'm sure I've never had any of it.  Whatever you're having will be
great . . . but we don't really have to eat.  Coffee would be fine."  He
didn't want to admit it, but he didn't eat nearly as much or as often as he
would have liked.  That was one thing about being home in Riverton.  There
was always plenty of food.

'I really did have to start looking for either a better paying, or a second
job.'

"A salad too," he urged Lucas, after hearing Lucas order and seeing what
someone at a nearby table was eating.

"Already done, my friend," Lucas said, smiling, "and dessert too."  Owen
grinned, looking around the restaurant, as always, curious about
everything.

 'What could possibly be motivating Bailey to approach Owen and ask for a
date?'  The thought of the two of them . . . together . . . was almost too
much to bear.

He paid for the meals and he and Owen headed back out into the fog, each
carrying a bulging plastic bag.  "I'm looking forward to this."  Owen
sounded like a child.  'A *real* meal!' he shouted to himself as they
entered Lucas' apartment building and headed for the elevator, wrapped in
the smells of genuine homemade Italian cooking.  Owen's mouth was watering.


----------


The two men sat cross-legged on the living room floor, paper plates,
plastic utensils, and the remnants of their dinner scattered about them.
Lucas seemed to drink in everything Owen did or said, and couldn't seem to
stop smiling.

For *his* part, when presented with a wonderful meal, Owen had managed to
stop wondering why Bailey could possibly be interested in *him*.  He felt
contented for the first time since moving to his own apartment.

"This is wonderful!"  He rolled onto his back and stretched his arms out to
his sides, turning his head to face Lucas.  "Thank you for dinner."  He
gave Lucas a puzzled look, and rolled onto his side propping himself up on
an elbow.  "I've been meaning to ask.  Why are you all dressed up?"

Lucas glanced at himself and frowned.  "Earlier this evening, I'd been out
on a date . . . something arranged by Allison.  She was trying to cheer me
up."

"You must not have had a very good time, to call me and lure me over with
the promise of hot coffee . . . and food."  He looked longingly at the
paper plate which had held a cream-filled dessert, and then turned his
attention back to Lucas, and *his*, as yet unfinished dessert.

Lucas shrugged, not meeting Owen's eyes.  "I've got to ask Allison to stop
trying to arrange my life.  Big sisters are like that."  He grinned.
"Sometimes, it's like having two mothers; the actual one, and another only
a couple years older than I."  He sighed, assuming a position, the mirror
of Owen's.  "At least Mother doesn't try to play the matchmaker."

"When you called, you said you were lonely.  Even though you don't want to
date, you apparently don't really want to be left alone," Owen observed,
wondering why Lucas seemed to suddenly become serious.  "By the way, are
you planning on eating your dessert?  It's going to go soggy and get all
runny if *someone* doesn't eat it . . . and quick."  He turned a hopeful
expression in Lucas' direction.

Lucas chuckled and pushed the plate in Owen's direction.  "It's not that I
don't want to date someone.  It's just, *I* want to choose the people with
whom I associate, not have someone make those choices for me.  That's why I
called you."  He seemed to catch himself before he said more than he
wished.  "I'm glad you could come by.  I didn't realize how quiet this
place could get without you around."

"Ohhhh, so I'm loud, am I?"  Owen set down his fork and licked his lips,
looking at his plate and then toward Lucas and began to laugh.  "I guess
I'd look like a country boy if I licked the plate?"

"You'd do that?"

"Nah, not really."  He grinned, dismissing the notion with a slight hand
motion.  "At least, not so you'd be able to see me do it," he added, trying
to suppress a giggle.

"You're in a rare mood tonight . . . country boy."

Owen's eyes widened.  "Ohhhh, I think I've given my skinny friend some
ammunition to use against me."  He chuckled.  "Country boy!  I love it!
That's what I am."

"You're not planning on asking me to wrestle, are you . . . to demonstrate
how all that farm work made you strong?" Lucas groaned.  "Because, if you
are, I'm afraid I'd have to decline.  I've eaten too much . . . and you've
eaten even more."  Owen made a face and then playfully punched Lucas'
shoulder.  Lucas playfully fell to his back with a umph.

"Nah, you're no fun to wrestle with," Owen groused.  "I always win."  Lucas
snorted a response.  "Besides," Owen continued.  "I need a shower before
going to bed . . . and I'm horny."  He gave Lucas a sly look.  "Food always
does that to me.  Mama could never understand why I had to lock myself in
the bathroom after finishing dinner."

"You're serious?"

"About the bathroom?  No, I didn't lock the door.  About being horny
. . . yes.  I love to beat off in the shower."  His eyes twinkled as he
smiled.  "Why don't you join me?  What with your disaster of a date, you're
probably straining at your underwear too."

"It wasn't a disaster!  Straining at my underwear?"

"You're just afraid of being naked around me.  Guys can get together to
masturbate and not have it mean anything, y'know.

"Hmm."  Lucas busied himself by gathering up the paper plates and taking
them to the kitchen, managing to look busy.

"Well . . . I'm gonna get nekkid."  Owen stretched and began to strip,
skinning off his t-shirt.  "Y'know, I hate clothes.  I never knew how good
being naked could be until I was twelve or thirteen, or somethin', and
Sam'n I . . . uh . . . we began swimming naked in the river."  He folded
his jeans and set them next to his shirt.  "'Course, it's tough finding a
place to be naked in a town as small as Riverton.  Hell, if a person is
naked at *home*, the entire town will know about it."  He nodded.  "Truly."
He stepped out of his underwear and then scratched his pubes, smiling
brightly and holding his arms out to his sides.  "Well . . . I'm ready."

Lucas shook his head, Owen's final words breaking the spell in which he
found himself, watching Owen strip.  "You're unbelievable."

Owen leaned against the kitchen counter with crossed arms while Lucas
undressed.  "Yep, that's what everyone who knows me says . . . at least to
my face."  He laughed, cupping his testicles.  "What I am is unbelievably
horny."  Lucas seemed unsure what to do next, now that he was naked.  Owen
gestured them toward the bathroom.

"Did you ever have a masturbation-buddy, Lucas?  You're entirely too
stiff."  Owen glanced down at Lucas' groin.  "Hmm.  Maybe I should have
used another word.  You're *supposed* t'be stiff . . . down there."  He
gestured toward Lucas' limp cock and then tapped Lucas' forehead with a
finger as they entered the bathroom.  You're not supposed t'be stiff up
*here*."

He smiled brightly and twisted his hips from side to side, causing his
erection to sway to and fro.  "Now, *I* am stiff in all the *right*
places," he said, with an impish smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
He reached out and tweaked Lucas' limp penis with a forefinger.  "You'd
better follow my example my friend, otherwise I'm going to be the only one
around here who's going to have any fun."

Owen reached into the shower and turned on the water.  When he turned back
Lucas was smiling and pointing to his suddenly-erect cock.  The touch, and
the sight of Owen's bare butt, had given Lucas an instantaneous hard-on.

"Ohh, I must have said the right words," Owen chuckled, stepping into the
shower and gesturing for Lucas to join him.  "You're even beginning to
drool.  I love it!"  He laughed.  "Hey, I could get rich doing whatever I
just did to get your hard.  Can't you hear it?  "Hi, I'm Owen, and bein'
around me is better'n viagra!"  He laughed and nodded appreciation at his
own joke.

Lucas was quietly ecstatic.  'Naked and hard . . . with Owen . . . *yes*!"

As he stepped into the shower, Owen leaned close and whispered
conspiratorially, "Don't worry.  I won't tell anyone . . . about the
drooling, 'cept maybe Allison.  She'd think it was funny."

"She'd want to join us in the shower," Lucas responded.  "She thinks you're
pretty special . . . and she's not seen you naked!"

Owen suddenly seemed to sober.  "You can probably tell, I'm feeling
playful.  I was tellin' myself earlier that I was becoming way too serious.
Comes from bein' alone too much.  I don't think of myself as being the
serious sort, so you'll tell me if I step out of bounds?  I know most guys
don't shower or beat-off together, but . . ."  He shrugged.

Lucas made a hand motion asking for Owen to stop worrying.  "As long as you
don't pee in the shower, everything's cool.  Besides, we don't have all the
hang ups those other guys have."  Owen made a face, not satisfied with
Lucas' assurances.  "Okay, I'll tell you *if* you do something which
bothers me."  He paused, his mouth seeming to quiver on the edge of a
smile.  "Tell me, what do you intend on doing?  I thought we were going to
jack off.  We'd better be.  I've gotten myself nice and hard.  If we don't
do it, it'll be like being invited to a party, then having the thing
cancelled after you've gotten all ready to have some fun."

 'I love the dusting of pale freckles on his nose,' Lucas thought as Owen
smiled and moved aside allowing him to get under the shower's spray.  Owen
seemed not to notice when his erection dragged against Lucas' buttocks, as
he passed.  Lucas however, felt as if the touch might have left scorch
marks, the feeling was so intense.  He couldn't imagine Owen not noticing.

He faced into the shower spray as Owen began massaging Lucas' neck and
shoulders, causing him to hum with contentment.  He hummed with contentment
and then jumped when Owen's erection swiped across his butt.  Owen only
chuckled.

"Remember, Owen murmured only loud enough to be heard over the shower.  "We
don't have the hang-ups most guys have.  Don't worry 'bout touchin' me.  I
don't mind.  You're actin' like I'll burn you or something.  It's only my
dick.  All guys have one.  All guys get hard.  It's no big deal."  Owen's
fingers belied what he'd said.  His massage seemed to take on an added
intensity.  When his erection wedged between Lucas' buttocks, and the
massage had slowed, Lucas turned around, catching an emotion-filled
expression on Owen's face.

"Here, let me do you now."  He urged Owen to turn around.  "I didn't
realize you were so good with your hands.  The next time I can't sleep,
remind me to call you so you can work your wonders on me."

Owen wiggled his fingers in front of Lucas' face.  "It was good?  Truly?
It's the first time I've ever done something like that.  Fact is, you're
the only guy I've ever taken a shower with.  I've not even done this with
m'brother, or Sam."

"Does that mean you showered with girls?"  Lucas teased.

Owen made a face and shook his head.  "Nope.  Only girls I know are my
sisters."  He looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice.  "I may be
playful, but I'm not *that* playful."

Lucas stepped closer and began working on Owen's shoulder muscles.  "Damn,"
he said, trying hard to use his fingers to manipulate the muscles.  "I
never realized what real muscles are like."  Owen chuckled, moving closer
to Lucas, making a sound deep in his throat, as he pressed against Lucas,
trapping his erection.

"Hmm," he murmured, in a dreamy voice, lazily rolling his head from side to
side.  "You're doin' a mighty fine job."  He intentionally pushed against
Lucas' erection, trapping it between the cheeks of his butt.  "Mind if I
jack off while you're doin' that? . . . It feels sooo good."

Lucas could feel the muscles of Owen's shoulders alternately tense and then
relax as he slowly slid his hand up and down his erection.  He would have
liked to watch, but feeling the muscles of Owen's ass cheeks rub against
his erection, was perhaps, even better.

"Oh, that's nice," Owen murmured, rolling his head forward, relaxing into
the massage, as well as the sensations beginning to course through his
body.  "You keep that up much longer, and I'm gonna shoot."

'It won't be long before *I* do too,' Lucas thought.  The feel of Owen's
naked body was pushing him dangerously close to an orgasm, even if he
*wasn't* touching himself.

"I'm gettin' close, Lucas.  I'm gonna blast against the wall of your
shower."  Owen's voice trembled and he spread his legs slightly, bending
his knees as the movements of his fist increased in speed.  Lucas reached
for his own cock with his right hand and slowly stroked it, close enough to
Owen to feel his butt brush against his hand with each movement.

'What the hell,' he thought, feeling daring.  When he judged both he and
Owen were only a couple moments away from their respective orgasms, he
reached around and pinched Owen's left nipple.  With that touch, Owen's
body jerked.  He took a sharply indrawn breath, pushed himself back against
Lucas's erection, and groaned loudly, his entire body shaking with the
intensity of his release.  Lucas wrapped his left arm around Owen's chest
and held him close as his own penis began to pulse, shooting his load over
Owen's buttocks and lower back.

He wanted to laugh and hug Owen, or kiss his neck.  Instead, he briefly
rested his head on Owen's shoulder while he struggled to control his
breathing and then slowly backed away.

Owen tried to look over his own shoulder to where he knew Lucas' sperm was
running down his back in a thick rivulet.  He reached around and scooped up
some of Lucas load with his fingers and then held them in front of his
face.  His eyes were positively sparkling, flicking from his fingers to
Lucas' eyes and then back.

"I dare you," Lucas murmured.

Owen's eyebrows rose and he grinned.  "Oh yeah?"  With those words, he
licked across his palm.  He loved putting on a show for Lucas, so, after
licking the palm of his hand clean, he sucked each one of his fingers,
finally winking at Lucas' open-mouthed expression of surprise.

"Never dare me to do somethin', Lucas."  He smiled as he milked his own
dwindling cock, and then licked his fingers once again, this time cleaning
off his own sperm.  "Besides, I love the taste of my own stuff.  I figured,
yours would taste pretty much the same as mine.  I didn't have a large
enough sample last time to know for sure.  Now, I know."

He comically frowned.  "Actually, it was better'n mine."

His mood seemed to suddenly shift, a look of concern replacing the earlier
impish expression.  "You're so quiet.  I hope I haven't gotten too weird
for you.  I know I told 'ya I just wanted to beat-off, and I'm thinkin'
I've gone beyond what either of us expected.  I'm expectin' even
masturbation-buddies don't get as chummy as we just were."

"Hey, don't apologize.  I'm quiet because I'm still catching my breath.
That was one of the best experiences I've ever had.  I don't know when I've
shot so hard, and without hardly touching myself."

"Musta been because of all that frustration from you and your date
. . . not working out."

Lucas slapped Owen's shoulder.  "No, the date had nothing to do with me
emptying my balls like that."  He looked down and lifted his flaccid cock,
examining his scrotum.  He looked up to see Owen giving him a strange look,
and explained.  "I was just wondering if they were smaller, since I've just
emptied them."

Owen leaned forward to examine them.  "Nope, they look the same size to me.
Besides, I don't think things work like that."  He yawned, one of his
jaw-cracking yawns.

"Sorry," but after something that intense, all I wanna do is sleep."  He
turned off the shower.  "I really didn't need a shower, anyhow.  I just
thought it'd be a cool place to masturbate."  He wiggled.  "All slippery,
'ya know?"

He tossed Lucas a towel and hurriedly rubbed himself dry.  Lucas did the
same, following him into the bedroom.  "I'm lookin' forward to sleepin'
with someone again."  Lucas gave him a puzzled look as he turned down the
blankets and climbed into the bed.  "I've always slept with m'brother,
Jonah," Owen explained.  "I'm findin' I don't much like sleepin' alone.
Besides, it's all cold and foggy outside.  It'll be nice to be able to get
cozy."

He crawled into the bed, opposite Lucas, and pulled up the sheet and
blanket.  "Thank you again for dinner, and for invitin' me to spend the
night."

"And for the awesome scene in the shower," Lucas murmured, wishing Owen
would be daring enough to give him a goodnight kiss.  When Owen turned onto
his stomach and scooted closer, Lucas figured even Owen wasn't *that*
daring.

"Hmm, that too," Owen murmured.  "Was great fun."  He was silent for a
moment and then spoke again, murmuring into the pillow.

"G'night, my friend.  Sleep well."

"I will, Owen," Lucas snuggled slightly closer.  "I will."


~To be continued~


Thank you for taking the time to read my work.  I always welcome your email
and enjoy hearing your thoughts.  If you would like me to send you a pic of
the character(s), please ask.


My other stories on Nifty include:
Phalen  (located in the Gay College Section)
Phalen - Finding Happiness   (Gay College Section)
Chris   (Gay College Section)
Leith   (Gay College Section) (not completed yet)
Owen   (Gay College Section
Wesley   (Adult Relationships Section)
Jess (Gay Incest Section)

I hope you enjoy them all.

Roy Reinikainen