Date: Fri, 16 Mar 2007 10:56:52 -0600 From: Roy Subject: Phalen - Finding Happiness - chapter 6 This story is entirely fictional, and any resemblances to actual persons are completely coincidental. Actual locations are mentioned, and are used for 'background' only. `Phalen -- Finding Happiness' Chapter six by Roy Reinikainen Curt slowly drove across the Tempe Lake Bridge. The low sun cast flickering highlights off the lake onto the tall buildings surrounding the north shore of the lake, his new home. It was a beautiful early-autumn evening with the only sound, the occasional airplane approaching or leaving Sky Harbor airport. `I wonder what it is about being over at Phalen and Jeff's place. It has always been Phalen who made me feel better. Today, it was Jeff and Greg.' He shook his head in wonder as he turned down the curving palm-lined, flower-bordered boulevard to his building. `I never would have expected Jeff to introduce me as his friend, especially since he and Brad are so close.' `I loved how Greg took over.' He smiled to himself as he swiped his access card over the card reader and entered the building's parking garage. `What a wonderful man! When he was watching me I felt like I was his best friend.' He ran his fingers through his hair and grabbed his briefcase and suit coat from the back seat, then headed for the building's lobby. He felt better than when he had called Phalen earlier in the afternoon, but was nowhere near feeling good. Greg had fed him and helped set his mind at ease over his disastrous sexual encounter with Daniel. Now all he had to do was get a good night's sleep. The security guard looked up from behind his desk and smiled. "Good afternoon, Mr. Sullivan. Are you home early, or are you just getting home from yesterday?" Greg gave him a noncommittal grin as the guard handed him his mail. "I hope you don't mind my saying so, but I think those people where you work are pushing you way too hard. You look dead on your feet." Curt gave the security man a wan smile, setting his briefcase down on the counter and glancing through the mail. "Thanks for your concern Hank, but they don't work me any harder than I allow them to. Besides, the way I look right now has nothing to do with work." Hank studied him closely. "I've just been feeling bad about something and have been driving around trying to figure things out." Hank leaned on the counter of his security station. "Are you feeling better, then?" Curt nodded and smiled. "Yes I am. I met someone who listened to me. Having someone really listen means a lot." Hank nodded in understanding and ignored Curt's attempt to hide a yawn. "I intend to go upstairs and sit out on the balcony, soak up some sun, and get some rest." He stuffed his mail into his briefcase and then headed for the elevator lobby giving Hank a wave over his shoulder. "You make sure you also get something to eat. A young man like you can't go too long without a good meal." "Thanks Hank, that's already been taken care of." He looked around the lobby as he waited for the elevator, realizing how much better he felt just thinking of Greg and the sound of his warm voice. Hank slowly sat down, glancing once more in Curt's direction before he turned to greet another resident. `I wonder where Greg will end up living.' The doors parted and he entered the empty elevator cab. "I love the way he grabs you with those deep blue eyes, and then won't let go.' Curt smiled to himself. `I had to keep drinking coffee just so I would be able to look away.' He ran his card key through the slot and pushed the door to his condominium open, feeling more tired with every step. He nudged the door closed with his hip, listening for the lock to click, and then turned toward the large expanse of glass overlooking Tempe Lake and the city beyond. He yawned again and shook his head. `If I don't get to bed soon, I'm going to fall over.' As he crossed the living room he paused a moment to smell the large bouquet of flowers from his parents, congratulating him on the purchase of his new home. He tried to formulate a schedule when he might be able to invite them over to see the place, but his mind was too muddled. `Later. I'll do it tomorrow.' He stepped into his office and dropped his briefcase on his desk, hanging his suit coat over the back of the chair. The bedroom was only a few steps away. He was well on his way to stripping out of his clothes by the time he got to the room. He yawned once more and dropped everything in a heap, but almost immediately bent over and picked everything up and tossed them into the clothes hamper. `Brad would be pleased.' He slid the large glass doors aside and stepped out onto the balcony, enjoying the feel of the sun against his naked body. He was high enough in the building that he was sure no one would notice. `Damn, what a wonderful voice he has. It's almost a purr,' he continued thinking about Greg. `He could hypnotize a person with that voice, combined with his eyes.' Curt smiled to himself and stepped back into the bedroom and plopped down face-first onto the large bed. `Damn, I hate living alone.' He rolled onto his side and grabbed a pillow, snuggling into a comfortable position and then glanced at the framed photograph of Brad sitting on the night table. He ran a forefinger tenderly over the image. "I love you, Mr. Kelly," he murmured before he fell asleep, ignoring the late afternoon sun filling his bedroom, as well as the sound of the people at the pool, far below. ---------- Phalen sat on a barstool and watched Jeff watch his brother move about the kitchen, cleaning up after Curt's departure. Jeff was in one of his silent, contemplative moods. Phalen had once complained that it was difficult to get Jeff to talk. He would contentedly sit and hold Phalen's hand in silence. "Is something wrong," he remembered asking. Jeff had given him a slight frown, so much like his older brother's. "No, why?" "You're so quiet. I'm not accustomed to being with someone and not talking." Jeff had raised his hand to his lips and gently kissed it. "We come from different cultures, you and I. Finnish people are known for their silence. We think silence is part of a conversation." Phalen remembered thinking Jeff was teasing him. "There's an old saying, lover. Most Finns accept it without question." Jeff once again tenderly kissed Phalen's hand. "Your speech should be better than silence. If it isn't, be silent." He glanced at Phalen and grinned slightly. "I'm silent right now because there is nothing I could possibly say that would make you any more special to me, or me any happier than I am, right at this moment. I'm enjoying being alone with the man I love." Phalen had grown to, if not understand, accept Jeff's periods of silence. He was not accustomed however, to having two silent people in the house. He couldn't tell if they were being silent because they were contented, or if there was a simmering anger hidden beneath the calm exterior. "So, you're really going out on a date with Curt?" Greg looked over his shoulder where he was loading the dishwasher and smiled at his brother. "Yeah, it was Phalen's idea." Jeff gave Phalen a look that settled someplace between a frown and a glower. Phalen smiled, not the least bit intimidated. "The guy looks like he doesn't have a friend in the world," Greg finished with the dishwasher and pushed the door closed before pressing the activation button. The machine began its low humming sound as Greg walked back to the kitchen island, facing his brother and Phalen. "I get the feeling you would rather Phalen hadn't suggested, and I hadn't agreed to a date with Curt. May I ask why? He seems like a nice person." Greg looked at his brother for the space of a few heartbeats. "Well?" Phalen looked from one man to the other, and stepped into the void. "Greg, Curt fooled around with other guys when he and Brad were living together. That's why they split up." "I know. He told me. I don't think he would believe I'm breaking a confidence by telling you that." He leaned closer to Jeff and tried to catch his attention. "Jeff, tell me why you don't want me to see Curt. The *real* reason. Is it because of what he did when he and Brad were living together, or something else?" "I really don't know." Jeff seemed inordinately agitated by his brother's question. "It's just a feeling I have about him." Phalen and Greg gave him an uncomprehending look, silently asking for an explanation of his feelings. "I like Curt . . . as a person. I'm just not sure he's the person *you* should be seeing." Phalen's glance flicked from Jeff to his brother. "Why?" Jeff took a deep breath. "Greg, Curt is about the most sexually experienced person I can think of. I'm sure there are more of `em out there, but *I* don't know of them. I . . . I guess, I'm just afraid that, given your background . . . he might hurt you and not even realize he's doing it." Jeff bowed his head, looking miserable. "I don't want that to happen, that's all. I don't want you to be hurt. It's not Curt." "You're sure?" Jeff nodded and then abruptly shook his head. "No, I just thought of something else. "Brad was afraid that, with all of Curt's fooling around, that he may not have been using a condom. He was afraid for Curt, *and* for himself." Greg smiled. "Thank you for thinking of me, but Curt and I are going to dinner. I don't expect he'll invite me back to his place to be intimate." Jeff gave him an indecipherable look. "He probably won't even want to hold my hand." "Do you think you'd want him to?" Phalen leaned on the countertop, suddenly looking interested. Greg thought for a moment. "I'm caught half way between wanting to scream and hide in a dark corner, afraid of what *might* happen, and at the same time, I would love for him to . . . hold my hand. I've got to tell you both that other than you guys, and your Dad, Phalen, Curt is the sexiest man I've seen in a long time." "Even in his rumpled clothes, unshaven, with dark circles under his eyes, and messy hair," Phalen teased. "Even then. I'm thinking he'll be even sexier whenever he's had some rest and is cleaned up a bit." "You have no idea," Jeff murmured. "A person who's impotent would have no trouble getting it up when Curt's at his best." He tried not to squirm. "It's *that* Curt I'm afraid of. He *knows* the effect he has on people, Greg. The first time *I* saw him I had trouble thinking for a moment, and that's saying something, considering who I'm living with." It took a moment for Phalen to assimilate what Jeff was saying, but it was obvious from his bright smile, the moment he understood. "I watched him that day, move about the room, gathering admirers who followed him about as if he had bewitched them . . . or something. Phalen is the only other person I've seen people behave that way around, and it's different with him." Phalen seemed captivated. "People don't follow me around . . . do they?" Both Jeff and Greg grinned at Phalen's expression. "Jeff, be honest with yourself. Are you a little bit nervous about how me seeing Curt might affect your relationship with Brad?" Phalen abruptly sat back, letting out a whoosh of breath. "Geez, I hadn't thought of *that!*" ---------- Greg sat on a lounge chair looking out over the gently rippling water of the swimming pool. Each ripple caught the image of the full moon, sending the light off in all directions. Jeff and Phalen had gone to bed long ago, giving him time to think. He lay back with his hands behind his head and looked at the sky and the silhouettes of the palm leaves overhead, thinking about Curt. `Am I drawn to him because he seems vulnerable, and I think he won't be able to hurt me?' He squirmed slightly on the lounge, feeling the texture of the upholstery against his bare back. `He certainly *did* look vulnerable . . . but so am I.' He grinned, recalling Jeff's unease at learning of his date. `That was nice of him to be worried about me.' He ran the open palm of one hand slowly over the closely trimmed hair on his chest, pausing a moment to tease one of his nipples until it became firm, imagining what it would be like to be lying naked in Curt's arms. As he imagined the warmth of Curt's body next to his, his erection began straining at the confines of his shorts. He glanced over the back of the lounge chair to make sure he was alone, and then quickly stripped off his shorts and briefs, sighing in pleasure at the touch of the pleasantly warm night air against his body. The warmth was almost like a lover's embrace, the gentle breeze moving through the palm leaves, a lover's sigh. He slowly licked his lips, imagining what it would be like to feel Curt's lips against his . . . or feel his tongue seeking entrance into his mouth. He could almost feel Curt's warm breath against his mouth, or hear his soft chuckle as he pulled away, completely aware of the effect he was having on the man below him. He slowly teased his erection, imagining it was Curt who knew exactly how he liked to be touched. He was sure Curt would know that he always imagined sex with another man to be something that was unhurried, something that would fill the senses almost to the point of overload. Curt would tease him in the same way he was teasing himself now, bringing him almost to the brink of an orgasm and then backing off, only to slowly stimulate him, leaving him never sure exactly when he was going to be allowed to cum. He forced himself to remove his hand from his own penis, leaving it pulsing, almost ready for release. Greg groaned in self-imposed frustration, tightly closing his eyes, keeping his hand away from his erection by strength of will. He wanted to feel the warmth of another man's mouth on his cock, stimulating it with his tongue, begging for him to fill his mouth and shoot down his throat. He had often tasted his own sperm by licking his own fingers clean, and wondered what it would be like to taste another man's. `What would Curt taste like . . . his tongue, his penis . . . his sperm?' Greg tentatively ran the tips of his fingers down the length of his erection, gasping at the initial touch. Once down the length he moved over his scrotum, teasing the smoothly shaved skin. He paused, wanting nothing more than to masturbate to orgasm. He lightly traced a line up the length of his cock, pausing near the end to torture himself with a feather-like touch. `Curt's cock will swell just before he's ready to cum.' Greg opened his mouth, the feel of the swelling penis almost real in his mind. `Then, without any further warning, his cock will pulse . . . covering my tongue.' Without conscious thought, he began masturbating himself. The thought of Curt's sperm coating his tongue, filling his mouth to overflowing was too much. He couldn't hold off any longer. He tightened his grip on his penis and tugged gently on his scrotum with the other hand, spreading his legs wide and resting his feet on the brick deck on either side of the lounge chair. It would only take a couple more strokes until he was there. He could feel the impending orgasm grow, beginning with a feeling that was not much more than a tingle centered on his prostate. With each stroke of his hand up and down the length of his erection, the tingle grew into a feeling that could not be denied. He arched his back, gasping for breath at the sensations he was giving himself. He could see Curt lean forward, poised to engulf his erection with his mouth. Curt moved closer. He touched Greg's erection with his tongue, a tentative touch, frustrating with its brevity. Greg thrust his hips forward. Curt's mouth engulfed him. The warmth was wonderful . . . overwhelming his senses. The tingle centered on his prostate had grown. The feeling was no longer a tingle. It was a demand for release that grew with each stroke of his hand. He could feel Curt's movements slow. He knew Greg too was close. One more stroke and a pause. `I can't hold back any longer.' Another stroke. The tingle had spread from his groin to his belly and chest. Curt was now using only his tongue. He hesitated, grasping himself tighter as he involuntarily arched his back and gasped. His orgasm swept over him. He made a low groaning sound and arched his back as the first jet of sperm hit him in the chin. He thrust his hips forward, confident Curt would be able to swallow all of him, and was vaguely surprised to feel the second jet land with a splash on his stomach. The last of his sperm, slid over his hand as the intense pleasure receded to be replaced by a sense of contentment and well being. He licked the back of his hand. `Will Curt taste like this?' Next, he ran his fingers over his chest, gathering up what he could and then licked his fingers clean. `I've spent all my life tasting my own. I'm ready to taste another man's.' He closed his eyes and then licked across the palm of his hand one last time. `My life has to be made up of more than fantasies.' He thought a moment. `It *has* to.' ---------- Curt slowed as he approached Jeff's driveway. The shiny convertible slowed . . . and coasted past. `This is getting ridiculous.' He accelerated, and drove around the block for the third time. `I can go into a room filled with angry clients with less fear.' He grinned to himself, thinking about his fast promotion at the marketing firm where he worked. `Angry clients, indeed.' He almost chuckled. `If I can manage to get through a meeting like *that,* I can certainly be alone with Greg.' Curt had followed his boss, one of the company executives, into a conference room where a group of displeased clients awaited. This meeting was to be a learning experience, he had been told. He was the most junior person in the company, with a "promising" future. As they approached the conference room his boss, Mr. Suarez, instructed him in an undertone to keep his mouth shut and learn something that he might be able to use one day. The meeting had not gone well, and after a few moments it became clear that Mr. Suarez was not going to be able to convince the people facing him across the table to choose his firm to represent them. Curt tried not to cringe as Mr. Suarez stammered his way through a presentation . . . the same presentation Curt had worked so hard on. `He's destroying any chance we have of winning the contract,' he thought, schooling his expression to hide his disappointment. When Mr. Suarez dropped his laser pointer and stooped to pick it up, Curt knew any hopes of winning the contract were lost. He bowed his head slightly and sighed. "You're obviously having a difficult day," one of the guests charitably offered an opinion of Suarez's troubles. "Why don't you let Mr. Sullivan finish the presentation? I'd like to hear his take on how the new television campaign should be handled." All eyes turned toward him. "I agree.' The president of the company, the man he needed to sway, gave him an encouraging smile, and turned back to Mr. Suarez. "Let the young man have his say." "He can hardly do worse than you," someone nearby muttered among the general shifting in seats that took place as Curt stood under the withering gaze of his supervisor. He wasn't nervous, he told himself. He couldn't *afford* to be nervous. He had rehearsed this very proposal many times, always dreaming he might have a chance to present his work. He had learned how to present his projects from Brad when he watched from the audience at the architecture school. He spared only the briefest of glances at his supervisor before turning to the visitors and introducing himself. The room had quieted. He realized he had captured their attention as he addressed each of their concerns in turn. `Thank you, Brad,' flashed through his mind. A half hour later, the Suarez firm had a new client, with the caveat that Curt be the person in charge of the account. Mr. Suarez had enthusiastically agreed, calling Curt into his office later in the afternoon and offering him a substantial raise in salary and an office of his own. There was no need for Mr. Suarez to tell Curt that he had saved the account, the salary and office were admission enough. `But, this is different,' he inwardly groaned as he approached Jeff's house for the fourth time. `I'm a failure at relationships.' He turned into Jeff's driveway and stopped the engine. `Now, if I were trying to sell him something, I'd probably be okay.' He paused a moment. `I *am* trying to sell something . . . *me.*' The thought made him feel slightly better. He checked himself out in the rear view mirror of the car. `Yep, no dark circles under the eyes like the last time he'd seen Greg. The hair looked great. Teeth, perfect.' There was no need for him to check himself out. He knew he looked good. He'd become accustomed to turning people's heads whenever he entered a room. Today he was wearing a pair of crisply creased dark brown slacks and blindingly white turtleneck that clung to his body. He stepped out of the car and slipped into a camel-colored corduroy sport coat. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, stood straight, and rang the doorbell. "I'll get it," he heard Phalen shout. A moment later the heavy wooden door opened and he smiled at Phalen's open mouthed stare. "Do I look okay?" Phalen's smile brightened. "I'll say!" He stepped past Phalen, who shut the door and led him across the courtyard. Phalen paused with one hand on the door to the house. "One word of advice though?" Curt nodded. "You're gonna have to loosen up. You look like you're all starched or something. You don't have anything to be afraid of. This isn't your first date. No one's gonna bite." He chuckled, his hand still on the door knob. "Well, I'm not, and I don't think Jeff will. I can't vouch for Greg, but I doubt it. That doesn't seem to be his style." Curt nodded and took another deep breath, trying to smile when Phalen clapped him on the back and opened the front door. "That stuff about biting was supposed to be a joke," he murmured as Curt stepped into the house. "Ha ha," was the response. "He's here," Phalen shouted, causing the two men in the patio to look up. Jeff and his brother stood and walked into the house. Curt tried to smile, but he was afraid Phalen was right. He *was* stiff, and he was sure his smile was as well. "Hi Curt," Jeff surprised him with a brief hug. He'd always thought of Jeff as being Brad's friend, a quiet person who depended on Phalen to carry a conversation. Jeff released him. "It's good to see you." Jeff stepped back and looked to his brother. "Um, ah," Greg stammered. "Hi Curt. I see you've gotten some sleep." Phalen stifled a choking sound in the background. "You, uh, look nice." It seemed as if Phalen could hold himself back no longer. "What! He looks friggin' awesome!" Greg cleared his throat. "I'm not so good at the English language yet," he said, intentionally playing up his accent. "I thank my interpreter for saying what I intended . . . whether that's what I intended or not." He turned back to Curt after giving Phalen a quelling glance. "Hi Curt. You look frigging awesome." "It's friggin'," Phalen muttered from the background. He stepped between the two men, resting an arm on a shoulder of each. "Guys," he said, looking first to Greg and then to Curt. "You're going out on a *date.* Smile." He looked at Curt. "Say something nice about Greg." "You look pretty *friggin'* awesome, Greg. I would give you a hug, but there's some guy who insists on standing between us." He gave Phalen a mock scowl, causing him to step back with his hands held up as if in surrender. "Okay, hug already." Curt stepped closer to Greg and gave him a brief hug. Greg seemed to stiffen in apprehension and only managed to pat Curt on the back, as if he were comforting him. In the background, Phalen glanced at Jeff and rolled his eyes, but remained quiet after a warning frown. Phalen held the door open for them and shooed them through with a wave and well wishes before closing the door firmly and giving Jeff an exasperated look. "I swear! Your brother needs some lessons." He stepped into an embrace. Jeff glanced at the two men as they closed the courtyard door. "Well, if it's lessons Greg needs, Curt's the man for the job. He should know everything there is to know." Phalen stepped back and gave Jeff a worried look. "Are you still troubled by them seeing one another?" Jeff shrugged and headed toward the back yard. "Normally, I'd say Greg is a big boy and knows how to take care of himself. But that's not the case. He *is* a big boy, but he has no idea whatsoever how to handle himself on a date." Jeff chuckled. "He's very much like I was a year ago. But, at least *I* was with someone who knew about as much as I did." Jeff took Phalen in his arms. "Phalen. I'm just hoping Curt doesn't do something that will cause Greg to retreat deeper into his shell. I don't think either of us really understands how difficult it has been for him to put himself into a position where he might be hurt. I'm worried about what sort of crisis we might be called on to handle when this date is over." He buried his nose in Phalen's hair. "Damn, my family is a mess, isn't it?" Phalen shook his head against Jeff's shoulder. "Nope," he murmured, tightening his embrace. "Your parents are just fine. You're not bad yourself." He paused a moment and then added. "It's Greg who needs help. ~ 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 a pic of the character(s), please ask. In addition to the first `Phalen' story, I have three other stories you may want to read. `Leith,` and `Chris' are located in the Nifty College Section. The third story is called `Wesley', and is located in the Adult Relationships section. I hope you enjoy them all. Best wishes, Roy Reinikainen roynm@mac.com suomalainen_abq@mac.com