Date: Fri, 26 May 2006 19:54:04 -0600
From: Roy <roynm@mac.com>
Subject: Phalen chapter 23 - 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.

You are also welcome to read my newest story, 'Leith,' also located in
Nifty's Gay College Section.


Roy
roynm@mac.com


Phalen - Chapter 23

----------

"Hey, Jerry."  Curt leaned against the kitchen counter.  During the past
hour he had paced back and forth through the apartment he shared with Brad,
psyching himself up to make this telephone call.  It didn't help that he
was exhausted.  He had not slept well, worrying about what to say.  He and
Jerry had been seeing each other off and on for a few months.  They had
been lab partners in a project to set up a program for a health care
company's quality control efforts, and had continued seeing one another
after the project concluded . . . this time in bed.

Jerry was everything Brad was not, and that initially attracted him to the
slightly built, blond with thick bangs and uncut cock.  Jerry was also
flighty where Brad was steady and serious.  Jerry giggled and told stupid
jokes that made Curt laugh *because* they were so outrageously dumb.  They
had had fun together, two opposites, the dark-haired, lithely athletic Curt
compared with the blond, slender person who looked like a boy.

The trouble was, Jerry had begun to think of Curt as *his* partner.  Brad
was someone he had never met; a dull ugly guy who didn't love Curt and
tried to stay away as much as possible.  Curt had not consciously created
this image; it was one Jerry had formulated for himself from tidbits Curt
had said.  Jerry didn't like Brad because, for some reason he could not
understand, he had a hold on Curt's affections; a hold he knew he could
never match.  He didn't like competition from any of the guys he was
interested in.

Each time Jerry became serious, Curt had let him know he considered their
time together as fun, but it would never go beyond friendship.  He would
say, "I really like you, Jerry.  You're fun to be around . . . and fun to
fuck.  But, I *love* Brad.  He's also fun to be around and fun to fuck."

These thoughts flashed through Curt's mind as he dialed the number.  He
knew he was doing the right thing, breaking off his friendship with Jerry.
'I've been giving Brad too much grief already.  I need to stop this before
things get out of hand,' he thought, compressing his lips and steeling
himself for the coming conversation.  He had thought about just
disappearing from Jerry's life without a word, but had determined that was
the coward's way out.

"Hey, Jerry," he repeated.  "I can't stay, but I need to see you this
morning.  You don't have a class do you?"

He had grown to hate the way Jerry almost purred when he spoke.

"Fine.  I'm heading out the door, so I'll be there soon.  Remember, I can't
stay.  I've got other things going today.  I'm going to watch Brad give his
final presentation at school.  It's a big deal and I promised I'd be there
to cheer him on."  He paused, listening for a moment and then finally
raised his voice to be heard over the complaints that had taken on a nasal
quality he detested.

"Don't feed me that line, Jerry.  We may not see each other as often as you
would wish but I'm positive you've not spent a single night alone in the
last year.  I personally know of a half dozen guys who have kept you
company.  Each of them thinks they are the only guy you care about.  I'm
just another dick to you."

The volume of the complaints had increased, and now, to top it off, Jerry
seemed to be crying.  Curt leaned against the counter and rolled his eyes
to the ceiling in exasperation.  'Maybe it's better for me not to haul
myself over there if he's already carrying on like this.'  He held the
telephone receiver away from his ear trying to think.

He came to a decision.  "Jerry, listen. . . . No, you listen to *me* for
once."  He almost had to shout in order to be heard.  Jerry refused to stop
talking.  "I can tell you're not feeling up to par today, so I'll skip
coming over and just tell you what I was going to say over the phone."  He
heard Jerry sniff and blow his nose.

'What an actor,' he thought, waiting a moment until he had Jerry's
undivided attention.

"I think it's best we don't see each other any longer."  He plunged right
into his message, speaking quickly before the histrionics began.  "I've
realized how my seeing you has hurt my relationship with Brad and I don't
want that to continue.  He means too much to me."  He stopped speaking,
holding the phone away from his ear.  Jerry was screaming, making a
seamless transition from tears to cursing.  Curt had only seen him in this
mood once.  He knew there would be no reasoning with him.

'Damn,' he thought, reluctant to just hang up.  'I'm glad he doesn't know
where I live.  He'd probably take his act on the road . . . first stop
Curt's home.'

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he managed to say when Jerry had either
paused to take a breath or think of another name he could call Curt.
"Maybe you should call up Frank or what's the other guy's name?  The one on
the swim team."  The screaming increased.  He knew he was only fueling the
already blazing fire of Jerry's emotions, but at this point he didn't care.
He finally sighed.

"Jerry, I don't care who you tell about the two of us.  I really don't.
Like I said earlier, I don't think you're at your best right now so I'd
better go.  Thanks, Jerry.  I've had some good times."  He was feeling
malicious.  Being called every name in Jerry's extensive vocabulary had
done nothing to make him charitable.  When it appeared Jerry was about to
start up again, he broke in.  "Maybe Frank, or what's his name will fuck
you without a condom.  I'm sure glad I never did.  There's no telling how
many hundred guys have parked their dick up your butt for an evening.
You're fun Jerry, but if you don't change your ways you won't be
entertaining your 'gentlemen callers' much longer."  There was a shriek,
just as he hung up the phone.

"Damn, I shouldn't have said some of those things,' he thought as he rubbed
the bridge of his nose.  'But he doesn't own me.'  He looked at the kitchen
clock and realized he'd better hurry and shower and get dressed.  Brad was
coming back to pick him up before they headed to the presentation.  He
shook his head as he walked down the hallway, thinking back to the phone
call.

'How'd I ever hook up with a jerk like that?' he wondered, letting the warm
water ease his tense muscles.  His thoughts drifted away from Jerry to
Brad, his frown changing into a pleased smile.  The more he thought about
Brad the happier he became, eventually beginning to laugh in pleasure.  'I
haven't felt this *good* in a long time,' he thought to himself.

'Damn, he looked sexy this morning in his sport coat and slacks.'  He
thought of the lingering kiss Brad had given him.  The way Brad said, "I
love you," made him feel warm all over.  "The dark circles were almost gone
from under his eyes and his smile was back . . . finally.  Curt grimaced,
shamed at the part he had played in making Brad's life miserable.

'The guy stuck with me even when I was being an ass,' Curt thought.  He
paused as he dried his hair, the towel still surrounding his head.  'I
never realized how much I loved him until I'd really hurt him.'  He shook
his head.  'I'll have to make it up to him somehow.'  He leaned against the
bathroom vanity lost in thought.

The doorbell rang.  He looked at the clock, surprised Brad was ringing the
bell.  'Maybe he lost his keys.'  He quickly wrapped the towel around his
waist and trotted toward the living room.  'Geez, I hope he's okay,' he
thought.  'I won't tease him,' he thought as he reached for the doorknob.
'He'll be embarrassed enough as it is.'  He turned the knob.

"*Jerry!*" His voice squeaked upward.  He clutched the towel and tried to
push the door shut but he wasn't fast enough.  Jerry took advantage of his
surprise and pushed the door open with all his strength and blazed into the
apartment, wearing a pair of tight fluorescent green nylon shorts and an
orange tank top that was one size too small, accentuating how thin he
actually was.

"Not expecting me, were you?"  He purred as he pushed the door shut and
rounded on Curt.

'I never realized how nasal his voice is,' Curt thought, not sure if he was
more surprised or amused at what was going on.

"So my butt hole is a fucking *garage* is it?  He continued, hooking his
thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and pushing them down.  His half-hard
cock sprang free.

'You've certainly parked *your* dick up there often enough and didn't find
it lacking."  Jerry sneered, "I always hated how you always brought your
own condoms.  Don't like sliding in on someone else's cum, I guess."  He
stepped out of his shorts and pried both shoes off.  "You think you're
better than everyone else?"  He tossed his shirt across the room and
advanced on Curt, a malicious gleam in his eyes.

Curt retreated one step, then two, grasping his towel.  Jerry's erection
was at full staff.  'He always did get off on making a scene,' he thought
as Jerry took another step forward.

Three steps backward.  He felt the arm of a chair behind him.  He could go
no further.  Jerry's smile broadened.  He was covered with a fine sheen of
sweat.  His eyes flashed just before his arm shot out and pushed Curt
backward over the arm of the chair.  Curt yelped and reached out to break
his fall, losing his grip on the towel.

"Ah ha!"  Jerry shouted, reaching down and grabbing the wet towel and
flinging it away.

"You don't have your precious condoms now," Mr. Holier-than-thou," Jerry
purred, stepping closer to Curt who sprawled on the floor, dazed from the
fall.  He tried to move further away, his head spinning from having hit the
corner of a table as he fell.

Abruptly, jerry dropped to his hands and knees and turned his back to Curt.
Curt saw his opportunity and scrambled to his knees, hoping to get away.
He reached out blindly for something to hold on to, his hand coming away
empty.  At the same time, Jerry kicked at his legs.  He shouted and fell on
top of Jerry, who promptly collapsed under the unexpected weight.

"Fuck me!"  Jerry shouted at the top of his lungs.  Curt was seeing stars.
The blow to the head was killing him.  He groaned and tried to roll away.
In a moment of silence he heard the apartment door open and time stopped as
Jerry completed his command with the final word . . . "harder."  The word
hung in the air, seeming to echo in Curt's addled mind.  He blinked into
the bright light of the doorway and saw Brad standing with one hand on the
doorknob, the color draining from his face.

"Hi."  Jerry looked up, smiling, his bangs falling across his forehead.
"Are you one of Curt's fuck buddies?  Want to join us?  There's always room
for one more, huh Curt?"

Neither Brad nor Curt moved.  Curt was finally able to get first to his
knees, and finally stand, shaking his head.

"I fell," he mumbled, leaning back against the wall, reaching up to feel
his head where it had hit the table.  For some reason his eyes would not
focus.  He blinked into the bright light.  Jerry's voice came to him from
the floor.  He looked down, not sure what was going on.

"Aren't you gonna finish fucking me?  You always said I was so much better
than that guy you're living with."  Curt finally realized what was
happening and looked down at the smiling man on the floor with loathing.
In one move, he reached down and grabbed Jerry's arm, dragging the
surprised man to his feet.  Still, the man would not take a hint.

"But Curt, you said your roomie wouldn't be home for hours.  Aren't we
gonna play?"  Curt pulled him around to face him with such force Jerry lost
his balance and fell to his knees with a thud.  Curt jerked him upward and
twisted his arm behind his back, ignoring the grunt of pain he was
inflicting.  Without saying a word, he picked up Jerry's shirt and shoes.
He strong-armed Jerry to the door where Brad stood, following every action.

"Move," Curt ordered.  Brad blinked and stepped aside.  "I'm throwing out
the trash!"  Curt yelled some sort of primal scream and pushed Jerry,
naked, onto the balcony.  He caught himself on the railing, slipping to his
knees, stunned with the force of hitting the metal rail.  After a moment he
hoisted himself to his feet, looking from side to side.

"I'm sorry I ever had the misfortune to meet you . . . slut!  You just
better be glad I didn't throw you *over* the railing."  Curt yelled as loud
as his voice would allow.  He balled up Jerry's clothes and tossed them
past the naked man on the balcony.  First the shirt, next the shoes, one by
one, and lastly the car keys and wallet, which fluttered open spreading its
contents on the breeze.  He looked at the shorts still balled up in his
fist and threw them across the living room rather than outside.

"I hope you rot in *HELL!* The two of us have just ruined my life!"  Curt
slammed the door on Jerry's surprised expression.  He stood a moment with
his back against the door, breathing heavily and shaking his head from side
to side in disbelief.  Finally, he slid down the door into a squatting
position and then sat on the floor.  He covered his face and began to sob.
Great wracking waves washed over his body.

Brad sat on the coffee table and watched the man he loved.  He was numb.
He wanted to reach out, to comfort Curt, but he dared not.

"You're sorry, I imagine?" he asked in a conversational tone.  Curt looked
up with tears streaming down his face.  It was the first time he had ever
seen Curt cry.

"Yes," he hiccoughed.  "For what I've done in the . . . past."  He stopped
to take a halting breath and wiped his eyes.  "What you saw today was not
what it seems."  He hiccoughed again.

"It never is . . . when you're caught, is it?  Curt bit his lips and wiped
his eyes.

"You know, that I've loved you more than I can even put into words?"  Curt
hiccoughed and nodded once again.  "*And* that you've about killed me,
because of what I *thought* you had been doing?"  Curt sniffed and wiped
his eyes, nodding in answer to Brad's question.

"Curt," Brad spoke with infinite sadness.  "You know what I have to do now,
don't you?"

Curt looked up, silently pleading.  He finally lowered his eyes.  His lip
was trembling and his hands were opening and closing, as if trying to hold
onto his partner.  He swallowed convulsively and then nodded before he
bowed his head and began to silently cry, his tears falling onto his bare
chest and then running downward.

Brad watched him in silence for a few minutes before he turned to take a
look at the kitchen clock.  He stood and straightened his tie and stepped
toward the door.

Once again he looked at the man on the floor in front of him.  He slowly
squatted and lovingly ran his fingers through Curt's hair.

"I'll always love you, Curt.  Nothing will ever happen to make me stop."
He rested his hand on Curt's bare shoulder and squeezed once, feeling the
firm muscles.  "In fact . . . I love you more today than ever."  He stood
and opened the apartment door, taking one last look at the sobbing man in a
fetal position lying on the carpet.

"Good bye, Curt."  The door slowly closed, the latch falling into place
with a click.


~ 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)

I would like to thank Carey for his ceaseless efforts to make me a better
writer, Gwynne for her daily doses of humor and her insights into the
characters, and Larry in Finland for helping me with the Finnish language
and for being a good friend.  Writing may be a solitary endeavor but the
thoughts of each of these people, as well as you, the story's readers,
affect the story's course.

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