Date: Sat, 21 Jan 2006 22:33:45 -0700
From: Roy <roynm@mac.com>
Subject: 'Phalen' Chapter 14-College Section

This story contains portrayals of homosexual actions and lifestyles.  There
may be references to, or explicit descriptions of, sex between consenting
adults.

If homosexuality, sexually explicit language, or swearing offends you, or
if reading material that contains these topics violates any law or personal
or religious beliefs, or if you under 18 years of age, please leave now,
without proceeding further.

This story is entirely fictional, and any resemblances to actual persons
are completely coincidental. Actual locations are mentioned, and are used
for 'background' only.


Roy
roynm@mac.com

Phalen, chapter 14


Larry tilted the chair back resting his feet on his desk, his linked
fingers supporting his head. He stared out the office windows not seeing
the surrounding tall office buildings of downtown Phoenix nor the top
leaves of the palms immediately outside his office window. He was humming
tunelessly and grinning, rocking the chair backward then forward slightly,
lost in a daydream. 'Damn, it was nice to be held by Andrew,' he mused. 'It
was wonderful to feel his arms around me pulling me close, and the feel of
his breath just before our lips touched.' Larry mentally groaned reaching
down with one hand to squeeze his penis through his slacks. 'I've never
been held like that.' He paused a moment. 'Not even Jeff feels that good
whenever he's hugged me. When Andrew held me last night he was gentle, but
there was an underlying strength about how he touched me. . . . Jeff's
strong, but . . . different than Andrew.' Larry squeezed his penis through
his pants with one hand and cupped his balls with the other, squeezing
gently. 'I loved the feeling of Andrew's hands as they rubbed my back, and
how he massaged my butt through my slacks as he pulled me closer, his cock
grinding against mine.' Larry closed his eyes, leaning back and rotating
his chair slightly from side to side. 'When his lips touched mine, I . . .'
He thought a moment trying to find words to describe the emotions he
experienced as Andrew backed him against the side of his car and wrapped
him in a tender embrace. This time Larry groaned aloud with pleasure at the
memory. 'It was incredible. His tongue . . . the feeling of his hands on my
butt.' Larry squeezed his crotch once more, feeling his penis respond to
the touch, begging for release. 'I wish I could lock the office door and
beat off,' he thought, but quickly rejected the idea. 'Nah, I can't do
that. I'd be willing to bet as soon as I got down to business I'd be
interrupted.'

With that thought his intercom buzzed breaking into his reverie. He jerked
back to reality from his daydream. He leaned over reaching for the intercom
button and nearly lost his balance as the chair swiveled in the opposite
direction he wished to turn. He grabbed the edge of the desk to steady
himself and managed to press the flashing button before his secretary
signaled him a second time. She didn't like having to ring twice. She was a
no nonsense type of woman, and an excellent secretary, but she had no
tolerance for frivolity. Whenever he would walk past her he imagined he
could feel her studying him over her glasses with a frown of
disapproval. 'Who's the boss, here?' he would sometimes wonder. 'Why do I
always hook-up with stern women? First Helen, then Jan. I don't know any
women who know how to smile!'

"Yes Jan," he managed to say, still not completely in control of the
rotating chair.

"Mr. Weston, there's a Mr. Andrew Johnston to see you. He says he doesn't
have an appointment, but assures me you would like to see him." She sounded
skeptical. In a rare moment of fun Jan had once asserted she would expect
people to make appointments to attend her funeral. Everyone with earshot
nodded in agreement.

"Andrew . . . *here?*" Larry's voice squeaked upward.

There was a perplexed pause. "Yes sir. He's standing right in front of me."
Larry could imagine Jan giving Andrew a critical look over the rim of her
glasses, her lips pursed in disapproval. Phalen was the only person who had
figured out how to get around her unbending rule about appointments. He
would show up unannounced and present her with a rose, asking how his
favorite secretary's day was going. He would smile, look at her with his
blue eyes and compliment her on what she was wearing. She would blush at
his attention and give a slight giggle. She would then personally open the
door to Larry's office. Later she would tell Larry what a wonderful son he
had. She had even taken to keeping a vase in her desk just for those times
when Phalen showed up unannounced.

Larry once asked Phalen what his secret was. He laughed, claiming there was
no secret. "I pay attention to her, Dad. I treat her as a person, not as a
secretary." He had paused a moment watching Larry's reaction to his words,
and then added. "Besides, I don't give her a flower in order to get past
her to see you. I give her a flower because no one else does. I like her."
Phalen had grinned then added. "She reminds me of Mom."

'That she does Son,' he remembered thinking. 'That she does.'

"Send him in . . . please," Larry managed to say, scrambling in an attempt
to sit up from his reclining position. Once again the chair rotated in the
wrong direction. He extended a leg in an effort to regain his balance,
kicking off a shoe in the process and tilting farther back. The office door
opened. He glimpsed Andrew as he began to enter his office, then lost his
grip on the desk and tilted backward even further. The chair had tilted too
far and slid out from underneath him, scooting away to fall on its
back. "*Yeow,*" Larry shouted in surprise as he landed on the floor with a
thud and a grunt. He shook his head and looked up to see Andrew blocking
the open office door with Jan trying to look around him to see what had
happened.

Without saying a word, and after only a slight pause, Andrew entered the
office and closed the door with an firm thunk. Larry's secretary could be
heard grumbling, "I hate free spirits," before the door shut out her voice.
Larry groaned in embarrassment. 'My reputation is never going to recover,'
he thought. 'It's not a good thing for secretaries to hear their boss yelp
and then tip their chair over backward, just as someone enters their office
. . . even if he *doesn't* have an appointment.'

"Sorry to interrupt your nap Mr. Weston," Andrew teased before he began
laughing. His hand was still on the doorknob, blocking any attempted
intrusion by a nosy secretary. Larry had begun to prop himself up but when
Andrew began laughing he fell back onto the carpet, his arms extended to
either side, a furious blush on his cheeks.

"Do you welcome all your guests from a recumbent position?" Andrew
continued in a curious tone. "Or is there some special significance that
you chose to lay on your back when *I* come to visit?" Andrew released the
doorknob and slowly took the few steps to the middle of the room looking
down at Larry. "Hmm?" he asked, his hands on his hips, continuing to grin.

"I seem to find myself on the ground a lot when you're around," Larry
moaned, thinking back to the time he tripped while jogging with Andrew. His
ankle still hadn't totally recovered from that spill. Thankfully, this time
he fell onto a carpeted floor instead of concrete. Larry opened his eyes
and found himself staring directly at one of Andrew's highly polished brown
shoes. He turned his head to look up at the man standing over him.

"Geez Andrew, I never knew you were sooo tall." Larry tried to keep a
straight face but lost the battle and began laughing. "C'mon, help me up."
He reached up for a helping hand. Instead, Andrew squatted next to him
ignoring the extended hand. Larry frowned briefly, lowering his hand and
wondering what Andrew would do next. After last night's kiss in the
restaurant parking lot, Larry was beginning to think of Andrew as a man of
surprises. Without saying a word Andrew knelt on all fours. Larry tilted
his head up, watching as Andrew slowly straddled him and then crawled on
hands and knees to a position where he was looking directly down into
Larry's sparkling eyes. Larry was trying to be serious but one corner of
his mouth quivered as he thought how ludicrous they would appear to anyone
entering the office. 'It's too much to hope Andrew might have locked the
door before he decided to climb on top of me,' Larry thought in the moment
before returning his attention to the man above him. Andrew momentarily
watched the emotions play across Larry's handsome face. He was surprised he
had never noticed how thick Larry's eyelashes were, or the slight laugh
lines at the corners of his dark blue eyes . . . or how smooth his lips
were.

Larry quirked an eyebrow, questioning what Andrew would do next. One side
of his mouth was losing its battle to not smile.  Larry watched Andrew
intently study him with lips that were slightly parted. Andrew seemed to
make a decision. He licked his lips once, then began speaking.

"I'm glad I found you on the floor, handsome," Andrew murmured, leaning
slightly closer. "When you fell while we were jogging, I didn't have the
nerve to kiss you." Andrew leaned even closer. "That's not a problem
today." The last few words were barely more than a warm breath against
Larry's mouth before the two men's lips touched. Andrew was gentle at
first, but when Larry reached up and pulled him closer, the kiss became one
of passion. The previous night Larry had told Andrew he needed a gentle
touch. Today, his actions spoke of different needs. Both men moaned in
pleasure and Larry rubbed his hands over Andrew's back, feeling the muscles
shift beneath the tight shirt. Andrew finally broke the kiss and propped
himself up breathing rapidly.

"You take my breath away, handsome," he murmured. He was still on his knees
and as he sat back he could feel Larry's cock which was straining at the
confines of his slacks.  Andrew pressed against it just as Larry thrust
upward. He smiled at Larry's expression before he leaned forward and once
again sought out Larry's tongue.

"Hmm, you taste good," Larry murmured when their lips parted. Andrew buried
his face in the crook of Larry's neck. "You also *feel* good," Larry
murmured, as he tried to rub his hard cock up against Andrew's butt. He was
thrilled by the sensations of Andrew's tongue as it worked its way across
his neck then over his ear.

"You are so sexy Mr. Weston, he murmured directly into Larry's ear. "So
damn sexy." Larry grinned, remembering how . . . was it only yesterday
. . . he had feared Andrew would never pay attention to him.

'Today he's calling me sexy!' Larry thought in wonderment. 'What a
difference twenty-four hours can make.'

"What'll we tell your secretary if she happens to come in and finds me on
top of you?" Andrew asked, propping himself up and enjoying the sparkle in
Larry's blue eyes as well as the wet evidence of his attention on his lips,
cheek and neck. Before their date yesterday, Larry's eyes had been anything
but sparkling. Today, he was a completely different man. He was no longer
mired in self doubt, but was sure of himself as he continued to hold Andrew
loosely.

"Tell her you're giving me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, using the new full
body technique," Larry teased, running a forefinger lightly across Andrew's
lips, then over his chin and finally down the length of his throat, only to
be stopped by the shirt collar. Larry quirked his eyebrows, at Andrew's
skeptical expression. "Well, you *are* a doctor aren't you?" Andrew
snorted. Larry squirmed slightly. "Damn, you feel good. . . . You're hard
you know?"

"Um hum, and so are you." Andrew leaned forward and began to run his tongue
across the width of Larry's lips, prior to another kiss. Larry stopped
moving, his breath warm against Andrew's open mouth, his arms tight around
Andrew's shoulders.

The intercom buzzed causing both men to flinch.  Jan's voice filled the
room. "Mr. Weston you're due in court in fifteen minutes." There was a
slight pause. "Just a reminder," she said sweetly before the room was once
again silent.

Andrew broke off the kiss and rolled off of Larry onto his back, silently
laughing. "I don't think that woman wants me in here.  He moved first into
a cross-legged position then stood up in one fluid motion. "If you've got
to go to court I guess you'd better get up," he sighed. Andrew offered a
hand to Larry, who stood and began brushing himself off and tucking his
shirt tail in, with a distracted look on his face.

"You never did tell me why you stopped by," Larry said, glancing around the
office and finally locating the shoe he kicked off when he fell. He slipped
the shoe on then stooped to right the overturned chair, oblivious to how
intently Andrew watched his every move.

"I was in the building, so I thought I'd stop in for a kiss," Andrew said,
helping him on with his suit coat and then handing Larry his briefcase,
before pulling him close. "I never expected I'd be so lucky as to be able
to lay on top of you too. Next time we're together we have to try doing
this in a bed. I rather like the idea of lying on top of you when we're
both naked." Andrew grinned and ran a finger over Larry's slightly parted
lips. "What do you say, handsome? Do you like the idea of feeling me naked
on top of you, our two cocks rubbing against each other for real, instead
of through our slacks? . . . Larry groaned. "Hmm?" Andrew continued,
grinning at how Larry's eyes had lost focus as he imagined the scene just
described.

"I'm in no shape to go to court, is what I say, Mr. Johnston. The *thought*
of even *seeing* you naked is just about enough to make me cum. I've beat
off so many times since you kissed me last night I'm about rubbed raw."
Andrew laughed.

"I could kiss it and make it better," Andrew murmured, running his palm
over the crotch of Larry's pants. He leaned closer, intent on another
kiss. The moment their lips touched the intercom interrupted.

"Ten minutes, Mr. Weston."

----------

'Holy shit,' Curt thought to himself as he opened his bureau drawer and
found a pair of Jerry's red underwear, folded neatly laying on top of his
own white briefs. 'Where did these come from?' He tried to
remember. 'Jerry's not been over here in weeks. I guess I must have picked
them up by accident when I was over at his place and Brad washed them.'
Curt walked to the bed and sat on its edge, then flopped backward, letting
out a whoosh of breath. 'I wonder what Brad thought when he saw them? He
couldn't help but notice. Is he sending me a message?'

He looked up when Brad, fresh out of the shower, walked into the room and
began dressing. Brad grinned when Curt caught his eye, but didn't say
anything.

"Are you still mad at me for last night?" Curt asked, propping himself up
on his elbows, watching Brad pull his shorts up his long legs and over his
round butt before he began to tuck his shirt in.

Brad turned to look at him as he buckled his belt. "Curt, I wasn't mad at
you last night, and I'm not mad at you now. We just needed to get a couple
things straight, that's all. . . . We've done that. I'm happy." Brad looked
at him curiously. "Are you going to lie around naked all day?" He
chuckled. "You look hot as hell, but don't you have class?"

"Yeah, but not till later. Are you going to class?" Curt asked, admiring
how Brad filled out his shorts and how his nipples showed through his
shirt.

"Where else?" Brad asked before he walked to the bed side and then leaned
over Curt to kiss him goodbye. He lingered a moment, savoring the feel of
Curt's tongue. "Gotta go." Brad stood, but not before running his fingers
lightly over Curt's chest and then over his stomach to briefly fondle his
rapidly expanding penis. "Wanna play tonight?" Brad asked, cupping Curt's
testicles and lightly running a finger between his legs then over his
anus. Curt sighed in pleasure.

"You'll be home? Curt asked, once again propping himself up on his elbows
as Brad removed his hand.

"I'll make a point of it," Brad grinned, turning to the mirror to see if
everything was as it should be. "Nothing will stop me, I promise." He
picked up his bag, adjusted its strap over his shoulder and turned. "Bye,"
he called, waving as he walked down the hallway. "See ya tonight."

Curt heard the front door close and Brad's footsteps on the balcony outside
the apartment. He fell back onto the bed with a muffled curse. "Damn, I
have a date tonight." He grasped his cock then lightly ran his fingers up
and down its length remembering how Brad had just touched him. 'How can he
seem so happy this morning when I know he hardly slept last night?' Curt
wondered, shivering at the sensations his fingers were causing.

Last night, Curt had awakened on two occasions and could see Brad's open
eyes in the moonlight. The evening's thunderstorm had passed leaving clear
skies and bright moonlight flooding the bedroom. The second time he awoke,
Brad was still laying on his back staring at the ceiling. He hadn't moved,
but this time Curt saw a glistening trail down the side of Brad's face. A
moment's concern was quickly quelled. 'He'll work through things,' Curt
thought as he snuggled closer and draped an arm over Brad's chest. He was
pleased when Brad began to slowly rub his arm.

'I'm proud of Brad,' he thought with a crooked grin. 'He stood up to me
last night!' Curt thought a moment. 'At the same time I don't like
it. . . . I'm the leader! Brad's the follower.' Curt grinned once
again. 'He's never realized that it's all a game to me. . . . It always has
been.' He gave his head a slight shake. 'Nothing is a game for Brad. He
takes things so seriously. He jokes around, but lately whenever I'm nearby
he gets quiet. He watches me as if he doesn't know what to think . . . or
do.' Curt rubbed a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He
was going to have a headache. He knew it by the pressure behind his
eyes. 'Brad doesn't laugh like he once did.' Curt closed his eyes tightly
against the pressure. 'He used to seem so carefree, laughing at the
slightest provocation. He was always looking for reasons to touch me, to
hold my hand, or kiss.' Curt sighed. 'School's changed him.'

'Everything . . . life . . . love.' He paused once more to rub his
eyes. 'Everything is always so simple in Brad's eyes. He doesn't live in
the real world. He never has. People don't just happen to bump into one
another and *zap* they see stars and are instantly, forever in love, never
needing someone else. That's not the way it works. . . . Not in the real
world!" Curt shielded his eyes from the morning light with his hand,
resting it gingerly across his eyes. "We were both kids when we
met. Neither one of us knew anything about anything.' Curt sat up and
leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands hanging limply
between his legs.

'I remember the first time I touched Brad. He reacted as if he had never
been touched sexually before.' Curt thought a moment, once again pinching
the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave off the oncoming
headache. 'He *must* have had sex with his brothers . . . at least one of
them. They are all so damn good looking, especially Marty, the youngest
one. I'd like to get *him* in bed at least once. I bet we'd have a good
time.'

Curt shifted position. 'This headache's going to be a killer,' he thought,
squeezing his eyes tightly shut. 'Brad's still back in high school like his
little brother. He has some adolescent ideas about love.' Curt bit his
lower lip and then once again knuckled his eyes, silently cursing the
pounding in his head. 'It's all a game. A person is supposed to have fun!'

Curt stood and began to pace, massaging the back of his neck. He reached
into the open closet, pulling out a t-shirt and slipped it over his head,
absently running his fingers through his hair. 'Brad just needs to grow up
a little. I've done it!' Curt reached into the bureau drawer, grabbed a
pair of underwear and angrily stepped into them. "He doesn't realize it's
game," Curt muttered aloud as he arranged himself in the underwear's
pouch. "He never has." Curt closed his eyes trying to ignore the increasing
throb in his head. "He never will."


----------


"Mr. Layson." Jeff's design instructor approached his workstation and
leaned forward as if inspecting something on Jeff's computer screen. Jeff
watched him, slightly raising his eyebrows in query when the professor
turned to look at him. The man spoke in a low voice. "There are two young
men in the room who seem to be taking an inordinate interest in you. I know
they're not in your class, but they *are* architecture students so I can't
ask them to leave the design lab." Jeff tried not to glance away from the
instructor to see whom he was talking about. "Are you aware of their
attention?" The professor asked, still leaning close, pointing to something
on Jeff's display, as if they were discussing Jeff's project.

Jeff took a deep breath and then nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid I am. They've
begun showing up in the strangest places. They seem to be trying to
intimidate me or something." He shrugged briefly.

"Any reason you're aware of?" the professor asked, perching on a nearby
workstation and crossing his arms.

"No, none." Jeff shook his head. "I don't know them." He continued
speaking, keeping his voice low. "Brad Kelly noticed them before I
did. That was a few days ago. Since then they've been hanging around me
like a shadow. Everywhere I go, they're there, silently watching me,
nudging each other and leaning close to whisper something to each
other. They give me the creeps. I've been trying to tell myself it's just
my imagination, but they're too many places I am for it to be a
coincidence."

The instructor stared into the distance for a moment. "Hmm. They haven't
done anything overt to threaten you?" he asked, tapping two fingers against
a shirtsleeve.

Jeff shook his head. "No, other than follow me and look menacing." He
thought a moment before adding. "They seem to know they're bothering me,
and get some sort of kick out of that. I've tried to ignore them but that's
hard to do. I feel as if I'm being stalked for some reason."

"My thoughts as well," the professor commented, still perching on the
corner of an unoccupied desk, his arms still crossed, one leg slowly moving
back and forth. He thought for a moment then seemed to reach a
decision. "Jeff." He paused, appearing to be choosing his words carefully.

Jeff looked up in surprise. He had never been called by his first name by
this man. 'The use of my first name must have some significance,' he
thought in a flash. 'He's taking these guy's actions seriously.'

"I would advise informing someone of what's going on . . . the campus
police for example. I'm not sure what action they would suggest, but if
these men are truly stalking you, the authorities should be aware of the
situation. I'll let the proper people in the architecture school know what
we suspect so people here can keep an eye open. Hopefully things will just
blow over. In the meantime try to be accompanied by someone whenever you're
away from class." He held up a hand to stop a comment he knew Jeff would
make. "I know that can be difficult," he said still keeping his voice low,
"but it might prove to be a wise move." He paused a moment as if collecting
his thoughts. "Make the effort."

Jeff swallowed once, then nodded. "Thank you, sir. He was silent a moment
longer then turned to the professor who was watching him with a sympathetic
expression. "Why me?"

The professor shrugged and then stood and patted Jeff on the shoulder. "I
don't have a clue why you've been singled out, and no, I don't think you're
imagining anything. Another piece of advice?"

Jeff nodded.

"If you're not already doing so, back up your design solution and other
school work to the school's server." He paused a moment. "Just in case
something should happen to your laptop."

"I already do that, but thanks. Everything on the computer is also backed
up at home." He tried to smile. "Thanks for the tip . . . and for speaking
with me. I'll get someone to go with me after class to the campus
security."

Again the professor thought a moment. He casually leaned on the divider
separating each workstation. "I've got a better idea. In a couple minutes
I'll ask you and Brad Kelly to do something for me. Meanwhile, I'll have a
couple of the teaching assistants occupy our friends until you and
Mr. Kelly are gone. That way you won't be followed, though maybe it
wouldn't be such a bad thing for them to know that the authorities have
been informed of their behavior." He turned to walk away, but stopped and
looked back at Jeff. "It's been my experience that many times people such
as this don't know how to handle things if someone gets in their face and
yells at them." He turned and began circulating through the room offering
brief comments to other students about their work.

Jeff watched as the professor casually perched on a desk near Brad and
began speaking with him. While the professor spoke with Brad, Jeff began
shutting down his computer and stowing things.

After only a couple moments speaking with Brad, Professor Lewis stopped to
speak with another student briefly then walked over to the two men who had
recently been the topic of discussion. Out of the corner of his eye Jeff
watched, amused at how the instructor stood behind both men looking over
their shoulders without saying a word, an intimidating presence. Finally,
one of the guys turned and looked up at the instructor who stood silently
with his arms crossed looking very serious.

Jeff couldn't help but grin. Professor Lewis was only the second instructor
he knew who could silence a room full of rowdy students with a single
steely glare. When he spoke, students listened. The best instructors knew
exactly how to control a class and get the most out of their students. Jeff
knew of only one other professor who had the classroom presence of his
design instructor. In fact, that man once alluded to his "steely glare"
being able to silence a room, and Jeff had remembered the phrase ever
since.

He returned his attention to finish gathering his belongings, but took one
brief glimpse across the room as Brad moved to join him at his
desk. Professor Lewis was leaning forward between the two men, his hands
resting on the desk. He would shift his gaze from one man to the other as
he spoke. Each student nodded, whether it was about their design projects
or something else, Jeff didn't know. He noticed Professor Lewis pat each
man on the shoulder as if the three of them had come to an agreement,
before he moved on to speak with someone else.

"I understand we've got an errand to run," Brad said quietly, standing next
to Jeff's table. "You're supposed to tell me what's going on once we're out
of here."

"Yeah." Jeff looked up at Brad and noticed the classes two assistants were
now leaning over the desks of both of the would-be stalkers, blocking their
view of Jeff and Brad.

"C'mon, let's go." Jeff motioned a curious Brad ahead of him, noting how
the professor glanced at him and Brad, then briefly at the two teaching
assistants before continuing his conversation with another student.

Brad was striving to keep up with the pace Jeff was setting as they walked
across campus. "What's happening Jeff?"

"Trouble."




~ To be continued ~



Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and comment on this
story. I've been overwhelmed at the response to 'Phalen,' and love to hear
from each of you.

If you would like me to send you a pic of the guys that inspired the main
characters in this story, email me.

Sisu (SEE-sue)
Mina rakastan sinua (I love you)
Mita (what)
Anteeksi (I'm sorry)

A special thanks to Larry S. for his assistance with the Finnish language,
and for being a good friend.  Thanks also to Evan Bradley for his
continuing encouragement, and for helping me make 'Phalen' a better story,
and lastly to Gwynne Yee, for her daily doses of humor, and insight into
the behavior of the characters.

A number of readers have written asking for the correct pronunciation of
the character's names.  They are:

Phalen (FAY-lin)
Kerin (KEAR-in)
Thian (THE as in Theater  (THE-in)


Thanks for reading.

Roy
roynm@mac.com