Bird came down

[ChrisGibson]

I am. Thank you. And if I want to keep feeling better, I should take myself to bed in a timely fashion. Puahing myself to far is how I got sick in the first place.

 

[ChrisGibson]

T H R E E
T H R E E





THE
LIAR




Theme Song: The Dope Show, Marilyn Manson​

When he was sixteen, the Calverton Panthers won the last game of the season 23 to 7. It ended with Scott Flowers, Number 48 in his maroon uniform zigzagging through the desperate hands and leaping bodies of Saint Stephen’s, their old arch nemesis, and when he made the touchdown he slammed the ball so hard into the ground it was a wonder it didn’t explode. His teammates pounced on him the way he had feared Saint Stephen’s would. They hoisted him up on his shoulders, and it wasn’t that he thought he was special, he wasn’t. But Scott’s life had always been life this. He had always been sort of tall, bronze haired and good looking, good natured. He and the rest of the team took the Gatorade and drenched their coach. Their parents came out of the stands. The band played louder and louder. It was a good day.
They had taken pictures before, Scott looking fierce with war paint under his eyes, but now there were new pictures, of them dirty, hoisting up each other, pictures of Tolliver Andrews who had broken his leg at the Homecoming game.

That afternoon led to that night and the party in the basement of Brady Dischler’s house. The Dischlers let beer into the house and more of it was spilled on Scott’s head than consumed.
They slammed their heads together and shouted above Korn.



And then, while they were passed out on the floor laughing, Matt Robb with the long blond hair that he never cut, who liked to paint his fingernails to razz everyone, fell down next to him laughing.
“Enough of this,” Brady said. “This shit’s giving me a headache.”
The music switched to Christina Aguilera and, along with everyone else, from the floor, Scott shouted “Boooo.” Even though Brady said, “’Com’ on Over’s’ a pretty straight up song.”
“Not for tonight.”
“I want to hear something sad,” Ryan declared.
“Something sad, something sad, something sad,” the squat Jack Parrish said, leaning forward and going through CDs.
“Oh, she’s real sad.”
“What?” Scott heard someone else say over the music. But he only blinked.
And then he heard Sheryl Crow singing.
“Oh, yeah, this bitch is sad as fuck.”
“Let her play!” Jack said.
“I’m going to!” Whoever had said she was sad said.
“She’s nice,” Matt said, putting his hands in his thick hair. “This is nice. I think guys shouldn’t be afraid to be sensitive.”
“Yeah,” Scott echoed.
The room was darkened and his hood was hiding most of his face.
“That’s what I’ve always liked about you, Flowers. You can crush the fuck out of someone on the field, but you’re a sweet guy.”
“You too, Matt. I’ve always liked you.”
“Yeah,” Matt touched Scott’s hand.
Scott pressed his shoulder against Matt’s and it was the perfect end to the perfect day as Sheryl Crow sang:

I've been long, a long way from here
Put on a poncho, played for mosquitos,
And drank til I was thirsty again
We went searching through thrift store jungles
Found Geronimo's rifle, Marilyn's shampoo
And Benny Goodman's corset and pen

Well, o.k. I made this up
I promised you I'd never give up

And then suddenly, in the quiet darkness, among his comrades, Scott turned and kissed Matt. It was so tender, and it was just what he’d wanted to do and never known until that moment, it felt so right, but suddenly Matt pushed himself away and, releasing Scott’s hand, was blinking at him in horror.

If it makes you happy
It can't be that bad
If it makes you happy
Then why the hell are you so sad?

“No man,” Matt said. “Not like that. I mean… I’m not like that.”
Scott laughed and shrugged.
“I’m just fucking around,” he said.
“Right,” Matt nodded, putting on a smile too.
“If you can play around I can too, right?”
“Yeah,” Matt said. “Just playing.”
“I’m gonna get up,” Scott said, pushing himself up, “and get a beer.”
“Get me one too, man.”
“Yeah,” Scott said. “Right.”
He was so red and so embarrassed, and only the beer could cool him down or make him laugh after that. He kept drinking all night. He drank Brady Dischler under the table. It was the first time he’d ever blacked out, and when he woke up on Saturday morning, his head hurt so bad it was like someone had but a railroad spike to it and driven it in with a mallet. Everyone laughed at him and the laughter made it hurt even more, but while he drank coffee, squinting, and took aspirin, this pain was a hell of a lot better than the dull ache and the hot embarrassment that filled him when Matt had pushed him away and told him, “No.”




“I’m coming to Fort Atkins to meet with Matty on some business, and I want to see the kids.”
“I don’t know if that’s going to be possible.”
“Yeah,” Scott said, doodling on the legal pad in front of him. “Well, I’ll be in around one, and I’ll be to the house at three.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I could stay at the house.”
“That might not be such a good idea.”
“Why? Is the guy you’re fucking staying with you?”
“Scott, don’t be crass.”
Scott looked around the living room he’d grown up in. Wide windows looked out onto Berker Street, and from the corner of his eye he saw his brother coming out of the kitchen.
“That’s not crass,” Scott disagreed. “I can be crass. You wanna hear me be crass?”
“Not really.”
“I wouldn’t sleep in that fucking house next to your rotting cunt if the great flood was going on outside and we were all about to die and you were Noah and that house was the ark.”
“Scott!”
“But I will be there for the kids. At three, On Saturday, because I’ve got a great lawyer who just happens to be my best friend who just happens to have told me, on my wedding day, that I should have never married a slut like you.”
“Matt Robb is an ass—”
Scott hung up on her. He could feel his brother, in the usual cargo shorts and tee shirt with backward cap, standing behind him.
“Can I help you?” Scott wadded up the paper.
“Fuck, you’re an asshole today!”
Scott was angry for only a second, and then he turned around and said, “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a shit.”
“I just wanted to know if you needed anything?”
“Nope,” Scott said. “A walk. A bike ride. A jog with Pebbles as soon as I find her leash, then back to this presentation. I’m just…”
Joey came to his brother and put his hand on Scott’s sunken shoulder.
“You got rid of her,” he said, “and that’s not a bad thing. She was always bad news.”
Scott nodded.
“Joe?”
“Unhuh?”
“Are you going to college?”
“I told Mom and Dad I’d try it this fall.”
“Don’t try it. Do it. You don’t want to be a maintenance man your whole life.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Joey said. “The money’s good.”
“Look,” Scott said. “Mom doesn’t want you to be a maintenance man your whole life.”
“Dad’s a plumber.”
“And he wants to have a son who’s a lawyer. I was a disappointment.”
“You have a great job.”
“I’m a secretary in a suit.”
“Everyone’s a secretary in a suit,” Joey said. “I’m a maintenance man…. Who’s just himself.”
Joey turned for the door, and Scott said, “Ey, Joe? You good friends with Fee?”
“Yeah,” Joey said. “Me and Felix are cool. You all were friends in college?”
“Yup.”
“Cool that you all are hanging out,” Joey said.
“Yup?” Scott said. “Maybe we can tonight. Could you pass him a message?”
“Maybe. I mean, the day is busy?”
“You never see him?” Scott said.
Joey shrugged.
“Sometimes.”


He caught Joey’s hair in his hands and pulled the boy’s face into his chest, wrapping his thighs around him while he fucked Felix harder and harder.
“Almost,” Joey panted, thrusting again, “there.”
Felix ran his hands down the boy’s sweating back, and pulled Joey in. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth feeling Joey fuck him, feeling Joey deep inside of him.
“I’m gonna come…” Joey warned him.
Felix had already come against his belly a few minutes earlier and now, with the last few thrusts, Joey made a staggering noise and moaned, “Oh—fuck—” as, pulling back from Felix, he came, and then finished coming, slick and hot, his damp head in Felix’s arms.
Joey rolled over and the two of them lay side by side on the bed, gasping.
When Joey had finally caught his breath, he turned on his side and took the wet cloth from the little table at the end of the bed, wiping his chest, wiping the semen from his stomach while Felix got up and went into the bathroom. Joey waited for the water to finish running and said, “Do you think I should go to college?”
Felix came out and lay on the bed beside him.
“That was random.”
“I’ve been thinking about it, though,” Joey said, taking the cloth from Felix and wiping himself.
Felix needed a cigarette.
“You could,” he said, doubtfully. “It’s not some type of cure all. It’s not for everyone.”
“That’s what I told Scott.”
“You could give it a try.”
“He just acts like…”
“Like what?” Felix said, looking at the ceiling fan as it twirled slowly.
“It’s like this… cure all. But it didn’t make him happy. Nothing makes him happy. I dunno,” Joey shrugged. “I just want to be happy.”
Felix turned on his side and Joey ran a hand over his chest.
“I love looking at you,” he said.
“I don’t know why,” Felix said, keenly aware of the imperfections of his body.
“You’re amazing.”
“I’m forty.”
“That’s not that old.”
“I know it’s not,” Felix said, brow furrowed. “But it is…. I was your age almost when you were born.”
“Wow,” Joey sat up. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Try not to think about it again.”
Joey made a vacant face and then a rewinding gesture with one finger.
“Already forgotten.”
“You should go to college,” Felix said. “For at least a semester.”
Preparing to get dressed, Joey squatted on his hams to pick up his clothes, and because he was beautiful and well built, cream colored with a broad back that went to a firm bottom, Felix got up and wrapped his arms around him as Joey looked over Felix’s books.
“I can’t be you,” Joey said.
“No,” Felix agreed. “Few can be. But you can be yourself, and that’s almost as good.”
Suddenly Joey turned around, climbed back into bed and pushing Felix down, straddled him.
“And now…” Felix began, “What are you going to do?”
Joey reached under him and took Felix in his hands, stroking him.
“Maybe ride the hell out of you?” Joey said, and looking up at the nineteen year old who looked twenty three with the scruffy partial beard on his jaw and the greenish blue eyes, the bronze brown curling hair, he immediately went hard.
“Do we even have time for that?” Felix said.
“You’re a writer. You can always make time.”
“But you’re the maintenance man.”
Joey laughed and as he did they both gasped, for he had just begun to pull Felix into him, “Have you seen this shithole of a building? It’ll always need maintenance. I’ve got time too,” he said.
And then his mouth opened into a small o and his eyes went round as he pulled Felix in. Felix was quiet, his mouth open too.
“That’s,” Joey began as he began to move with Felix in him, “it.”
Joey fucked him like that, pressing his hands against Felix’s chest, and he made them both come together and then, while Felix looked up at his beautiful face, suddenly Joey looked very stupid, not fierce as he usually did before coming.
“What?” Felix said.
“I just remembered. My brother asked me to ask you if he could come over tonight.”
Hearing about Scott and still being hard inside of Joey was the weirdest feeling in the world, but all Felix could do was blink and nod.
“Yeah…” he said. “I’ll be free at nine.”


MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great portion with interesting insight into the past and the present. I am really enjoying this story a lot and look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

I'm glad you enjoyed. I must have been in bed when you commented.

 

[ChrisGibson]

OUR LAST PORTION OF THE WEEK



Scott had not wanted to start college. He actually waited two years. He was working at Media Play when he finally decided to go to City College.
“Oh, we’re so glad,” his mother said.
“I’d thought you’d be wearing that blue shirt forever,” his father added.
He did stay at Media Play. In fact he was at Media Play more than school, which he slept through for the most part. Somewhere along the line be became a history major.
“I’m worried about you, Scott,” Professor O’Connor frankly told him as she returned his latest paper. City College was a community school, but professors never understood that. Being here was the second, sometimes the third most important thing. There wasn’t much he stayed awake for. He wanted to pay attention. He stayed awake for his friend Mallory. He stayed awake for Felix.
He had never seen Felix before, but Felix was in two classes, and laughter was always happening around him. After a while Scott started eavesdropping. When he laughed out loud, Felix turned and looked at him, and then he smiled. And that’s how Scott learned that if he laughed loudly from the other side of the room Felix would look at him. Felix was smart. Scott knew this, and could explain with a joke a very long moment in history. But in the end Professor O’Connor called them both to her desk and Scott, several inches taller, kept looking at Felix, wondering what was up, and Felix gave him a wry look that made him grin.
“Scott, you’re a terrible student,” Professor O’Connor said simply. Scott grimaced and Felix burst out laughing. This made Scott want to laugh for some reason, even though he should have been indignant. Instead he bit the inside of his lip.
“And Felix is a very good one. So would you tutor him?” Professor O’Connor asked.
“Sure,” Felix shrugged.
“Forget about doing the next paper then,” she said.
“Right on!” Felix put his hands together.
“And if he actually does well on the next paper, well then…” Professor O’Connor shook her head, “We’ll talk.”
“Are you free?” Felix said.
“I need to be at work by four.”
“Then you’re free,” Felix said. “We’ll work out a schedule.”
In the courtyard Felix lit a cigarette, inhaled and said, “So what are your hours like?”
“I work full time?”
“Um,” Felix said. Then, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to get around that.”
“I guess weekends?” Scott said, glumly.
“I don’t like weekends. Those are mine.”
“Right?” Scott nodded in agreement.
“Do you work nights?”
“Yeah. But no one’s there but me after ten o’clock. Oh, and Thursday mornings.”
“I guess I’ll just have to teach you at the store.”
Scott blinked at him.
“Are you serious?”
“I don’t want to write that paper.”



When Felix answered the door that night, Scott said, “Sorry I look so skuzzy.”
Felix shook his head and laughed, “You look like you did when I met you.”
Scott came in wearing a ball cap and hooded sweatshirt.
“I rushed right over here and my hair looks crazy is all. I swear I’m not trying to be a frat boy.”
“Are you thirsty?” Felix asked him.
“I could drink. Maybe just water. So,” Scott followed him into the kitchen, “you talk to that Ben?”
“I think he’s gone.”
“Good.” Then Scott said, “It’s good, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have a right to speak,” Scott said as Felix poured the water into a plastic tumbler.
“I didn’t know all about that. I must have put you through some shit. I see that now.”
“You didn’t put me through any shit,” Felix said, handing him the water, but Scott wondered if he had said it too quickly.
“I thought about you,” Scott said. Felix gestured for him to leave the kitchen, and they went to the futon. “A lot.”
“I never heard from you, though.”
“You said,” Scott began. He looked at his water. He turned to Felix again.
“You said I was like everybody else. And then I was pretty sure you were done with me.”
“You said,” Felix said, his voice a little hard, “that you wanted to be just like everybody else.”
Scott didn’t speak right away, and then he said, “I know.”
Then he said, “Do you remember the first time you came to Media Play and we didn’t learn anything? I mean, I didn’t. We just talked and talked and you told me about how you had dropped out of the graduate school program to study history for the year.”
“And you told me you didn’t like school.”
“And then later on you told me about Ben. You didn’t tell me his name, just that he didn’t work out. You didn’t tell all the details.”
“And you told me about Matt. About kissing him.”
“That was embarrassing.”
“I still think Matt wanted it. I still think he fucked you over.”
Scott nodded.
“I got two A’s and finished that class out with a B,” Scott said. He waited a moment and then he said, “We were together. You and me. Nothing happened, but we were together. Weren’t we?”

“I know what you want,” Scott told him while they sat together in the stock room.
“What I want?” Felix looked at him.
“I want it too,” Scott said, “Sort of.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about us. I’m talking about me being… what Ben was to you.”
“A boyfriend. Or a pain in the ass?”
Scott tried to laugh, “A boyfriend. But…” he became quiet, “I can’t do that, Felix.”
Felix had been around several men before and after Ben, and now he was impervious to bullshit. He just shrugged and said, “All right.”
“It’s…” Scott sound frustrated. “I want a normal life. I want a wife and kids. I’m not you. I’m not all avant garde. I just want to be like everybody else.”
“Oh,” Felix said. And then he said, “Well, then you are like everybody else.”

It took a long time for the pain to sink in. By the time he heard that Scott was married to a girl named Jen and there were babies on the way, there wasn’t even a pain anymore, just something like a loose tooth. It hurt when he touched it. He couldn’t stop touching it for a while, and then he moved on. With Ben, the further he came away from that relationship, the more he felt he’d dodged a bullet. With Scott he felt like he’d missed his chance at happiness.



“We were together. Nothing happened, but we were together. Weren’t we?” Scott asked him.
Felix nodded.
“I guess that’s why I always felt like you cheated on me.”
“Things were not supposed to happen the way they did,” Scott said while Felix offered the beer and Scott waved it off.
Jen was just a girl he was seeing. She was pretty, and her friends knew his friends. They had a good time and everything. They went places and laughed and danced and partied with all the other twenty somethings. Matt was in law school, and Scott felt like a little bit of a loser for still being an undergrad.
“I’ve got this great fucking job I could get you set up with,” Matt told him. “They’ll love you. Especially you’re work ethic.”
Things were good and then, one day, Jen brought up moving in together. This was right around graduation.
“That’s a bit early,” he suggested, but Jen said, “We’ve been together eighteen months. Where is this thing going?”
“Whaddo you mean?” Scott said, shrugging. “We’re together.”
“Yeah, but…”
“We went to Cancun!” he exclaimed, and she couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but she laughed and so did he. And then around Easter, Jen called and said, “We need to talk.”
“About moving in together?” Scott humored her. He was looking at the picture of the two of them smiling, him in vest, white shirt and tie with his hair grown out and golden, smiling furiously while she leaned on him.
“No,” Jen said nervous. “About something more important.”

After the first obstetrician appointment Scott came back home very quiet. He had said nothing to his parents, and Joey followed him upstairs then, like a dog, climbed onto the bed and lay on the foot of it waiting for his brother, who was staring up at the ceiling, to say something.
“Jen’s pregnant,” Scott said, simply.
Joey turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
Scott added: “With twins.”
Joey, bless him, only blinked. His little brother whispered, “Whaddo you wanna do?”
“I want her to have an abortion.”
“Oh.”
Scott could tell his brother was trying to keep the judgment out of his voice.
“Don’t worry,” Scott said. “She’s not going to, and I’d feel like an asshole offering to pay for it.”
“Then what?”
“I’m going to do the thing I was brought up to do.”

When Scott got up to use the restroom, Felix reached for his wallet and opened it up again to the picture Scott had shown him. Again, his hair was moussed and combed till it was extra golden. He had that almost terrified smile while he stood under before the lattice holding Jen, and she reached up and kissed him. There was the other picture where he grinned and fed her wedding cake.
I wanted to die that day…. Felix, have you ever had a day where you wanted to die?
The toilet flushed and Felix quickly shut the wallet, putting it back down and folding his legs under him, waiting for Scott to come out. He listened to the sound of the water as Scott washed his hands, and then came out, still looking twenty two and said, “You’re still here.”
“It’s my apartment, Scott.”
“I know,” Scott leapt onto the futon and it groaned under his one hundred eighty pounds. “But I keep feeling like it can’t be real. You, and me.”
“Well…” Felix dropped it. He was about to say, “Since you’re thirty something with two kids and a wife you hate, it is pretty believable.”
“It’s getting late,” Scott said, looking at his wrist even though it bore no watch.
“Do you turn into a pumpkin?”
“No, but… I should go.”
“You’re just saying that.”
Scott grinned and nodded, taking his tumbler.
“You’re right,” he said. “I am.”
“Do you want to stay the night?”
Scott looked at him.
“Like the other night, I mean. Not like do you want to fuck me. Just…”
“I know,” Scott brushed it away. “No, no. That’s fine. I’d like that. I’d like to just sleep next to you. We could hold each other and… you know? I’d like that. Just like kids.”
“I don’t know what kids you grew up with, but...”
“Well then just like something innocent,” Scott said. “I could use something innocent in my life.”
“You and me both.”
“Oh?” Scott looked at him. “You do stuff you regret?”
“No,” Felix shook his head. “But all the same, innocence is nice.”
Scott wasn’t looking at him. He swallowed nervously and quickly reached for Felix’s hand.
Felix squeezed Scott’s hand and Scott squeezed back.
“What’s your biggest fantasy?”
“What?” Felix said.
“Your biggest fantasy.
Without thinking, Felix said:
“That someone would care enough to lie to me.”
“Huh?”
“Truth is overrated. Someone who loves me enough, cares enough about what I think of them, about my feelings, that they don’t dump all of their stuff on me, that they…. Don’t tell me everything. I don’t know… I think there’s something to be said for that.
“Sometimes truth is a weapon and… Sometimes when I hear about the person who was cheated on and never knew about it or… never knew about a lot of stuff, I think, I wish someone loved me enough to lie to me.”
“I can’t promise to lie to you,” Scott said, “but you wanna go on a late night walk again?”
“Yes,” Felix said. “Eventually. I kind of want to just sit here for a moment.”
Scott nodded, and then he said, “I have to go to Fort Atkins the day after tomorrow, but…when I get back do you want to go on a real date?”
“Huh?”
“Me,” Scott turned to him, pointing to his chest. “Wearing a suit and a tie, with hair actually styled, picking you up, and taking you someplace.”
“Uh…” Felix began. “Yeah… You can do that.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great portion! Sorry I am commenting late it was a busy day. I like Scott and Felix together quite a bit! I hope they can work things out or at least have a date. Excellent writing and I look forward to more in a few days!

 

[ChrisGibson]

I hope they get something. So far it's so much that still hasn't happened for everybody.

 

[ChrisGibson]

ON HIS TRIP BACK TO MICHIGAN, SCOTT REMEMBERS THE PLACES THE LAST FEW YEARS HAVE TAKEN HIM

“Where’ve you been?” Scott said tiredly. He never yelled. The kids were sitting at the kitchen table while he scooped peas onto their plates.
“I was out,” Jen said.
“With him?”
“With him,” Jen answered. “With him. Yes with him.”
“With who, Mommy?” Taylor asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” Scott put his hand on his son’s head.
“Don’t worry about it, baby,” Jen agreed and Scott followed her into the living room.
“Can I talk to you?”
“Sure Scott,” she said, brusquely.
“Are you fucking him?” he demanded.
“Well, I’m certainly not fucking you.”
Scott threw his hands up in the air and screamed.
“What?” Jen demanded, after she had recovered from shock.
He shook his head. “This is impossible.”
“You look so disgusted,” Jen said. “You look so snide.”
“I am disgusted, Jen.”
“You’re disgusted every night. I knew it. I should have known it. I always pretended I didn’t see it.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“If I had a dick you’d fuck me.”
“Shut up!” Scott hissed. “The kids!”
Jen stomped up the stairs, and he followed her.
“You don’t even touch me. You haven’t wanted to touch me in years. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant we wouldn’t even be together.”
“Of course we wouldn’t be together!” Scott exclaimed. “Marrying you was the worst day of my life!”
He closed the door and threw her against the wall.
“Let me go!”
“No!”
“How many men have you fucked since we got married?”
“How many men have YOU fucked?”
Scott shook his head, frowning at her.
“I’ve never cheated on you.”
“Well, maybe you should start. I’ve been fucking around since before I went down the aisle.”
Scott stepped back from her like he was drunk. He looked to the door, his eyebrows raised.
“Don’t worry. Those kids are yours.”
“We always used condoms. You were on the pill, so…”
Jen shook her head, looking a little triumphant.
“What?” Scott said.
“I wanted you,” she said, shaking her head and looking confused. “I wanted you so bad, Scott. You didn’t want me. I should have walked way. But instead I stopped taking the pill. And then,” she shrugged, “I poked holes in the condoms.”



Scott Flowers and his best friend Matthew Robb stood on the platform of the train station in Fort Atkins waiting for their clients, Jack Cromwell and Arthur Beamon. Those two old men had struck out on their own years ago to be successful, and maybe, once Scott and Matt had enough clients, they could be independent too instead of just taking these free lance assignments.
While the train pulled into the station, Scott typed into his phone.
So glad to wake up with you
He waited for what sarcastic thing Felix would write back. He was surprised when what came back was:
Are you safe? Are you there yet?”
Just driving in.
Don’t kill anyone.
LOL

Then suddenly, Felix typed:

I can’t wait till you get back.
Me neither. Get ready for our date. I gotta get off this phone now.
Be safe
You too.

Then Scott typed:

Love u, Buddy.
He waited a few moments, looking at the blank screen. It was true, but it was noncommittal. Sort of. It was...
Then Felix wrote back.
I love you too, Scott.
The train squealed to a halt and Scott bit his lip, pulling the phone to his chest. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling.
The first man he ever fucked was Heath. He’d been fooling around with guys before, but he finally fucked Heath against his sofa, and when he came, Scott’s eyes flew open with the release, the hot feeling of shooting deep into the abyss of another man.
“I don’t usually do things like this,” he said.
“I don’t either,” Heath began, then he said, “But I have done them.”
“My wife thinks I’m gay so I decided I might as well be,” Scott explained. Then, “Actually, she’s fucking someone else right now. Not that you really want to hear all of this.”
“No, I’ll listen,” Heath told him, sitting up.
“Do you think you’d like to do this again? I mean,” Scott said, hunting for his jeans and picking them up, stretching out his legs to pull them on. “If you liked it? Would you like to do it again?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a boyfriend, and i’m not likely to get one again anytime soon, so yeah,” Heath said. “This is definitely something I could get used to.
Scott was pulling on his tee shirt now and reaching for his jacket.
“That was simple,” he said. You know, around here, church on every corner. Lots of Catholic guilt. You can never tell.”



When Scott was sure Jen was fucking around, it made it easier for him to sneak away and get motel rooms. One night, even though he had been expecting it, the knock on the door still came as a surprise.
Scott’s legs seemed to unfold and stand up of their own accord, and then he came to the door, trembling.
“Hello?” he said on the other side, and then answered it, not wanting to seem crazy.
“Come in,” he said. He stretched out his hand manfully as he opened the door and hoped he didn’t look too eager. “I’m Scott.”
The other young looked around the apartment. It was on loan for the day. Ryan never asked questions. Scott watched this guy lick his lips nervously and Scott was instantly hard. His heart was thumping. He couldn’t really feel the ground beneath him.
“I’m the guy,” he said.
“Cool,” Scott sounded breathless. “That’s what you said.”
“Yeah,” the guy said dumbly.
Scott’s hotel suite consisted of the cozy living room, a breakfast nook with a window threw it and then a short hallway to what should have been a bedroom. He slept on the large futon, that looked like a sofa, and The Guy was looking around, his hands shoved in his pocket.
“So,” he said, “where do we do this?”
Suddenly Scott didn’t want to do this. The breathless excitement was merely on his end, he realized. There was that wonderful surprise sex, often when you’d been talking to a guy for a long time, missing appointments, meaning to get together but not doing so, or maybe just the heat right away that kept relationships going and friendships going long after the sex. In that kind of thing a guy came to the door eager as a puppy and before you had locked his hands were all over you, his tongue in your mouth. You could order sex, but you could not really order passion.
“Over here,” Scott said, sounding smaller. “That couch is a bed. It lets out.”
If this was going to be business, then Scott added, “Did you bring anything?”
“I got a condom. If that’s what you mean.”
“That’s what I meant.”
The Guy asked him, “Do you want me to fuck you?”
Well, just out there, like that.
“Do you want to fuck me?” Scott asked him.
“Yeah,” The Guy said, his voice dull.
Scott sort of hated him right now. Scott said: “All right.”
He undressed slowly, and climbed onto the bed, on hands and knees and arched his back like a cat as The Guy entered him. He realized that here was a good looking young man inside of him, on his birthday, and he hadn’t ordered up a wonderful companion or a friend, or a lover, he had ordered a fuck. and there was no point in being all hurt because that was all this fool was. He felt good in him and Scott was, after all, the master of the house, so he pulled him out and sat on the bed looking over The Guy’s body. His penis was thick in the midst of dark hair going all up the side of his thighs ,spreading to his stomach and chest.
“Sit down,” he told him. and The Guy obeyed.
“Get on your back,” Scott said.
Scott, erect now, was powerful for the first time all day, and he felt sexy for the first time in he didn’t know how long. He was long and slender and blond and somewhat good looking. He knelt down and took The Guy in, deep inside of him, and then he began to ride him, his hands pressed to The Guy’s chest, running over his breast, over his nipples making him moan, feeling the piston throb inside of him shake him, The Guy reached up now and again as their bodies bucked.
And then The Guy’s mouth opened. The Guy kept leaning up, leaning up. He wanted to kiss him. suddenly Scott let him. His tongue was like a whip. It lurched in his mouth and pulled him down. His hand pulled Scott, his body came pressing against Scott’s. Their bodies pressed together and The Guy’s hands were in his hair, demanding. Scott turned over so that the dark haired stranger was on top of him.
Scott put a hand up. For a while went down on The Guy, while moans escaped from the other young man’s mouth. And then he bent down and kissed Scott quickly and went down his belly and took him in his mouth. He shocked Scott, Scott bucked up and down and The Guy lifted his head, looking up at him.
“Are we going to to this?” Scott said. “Are we going to do this properly like two people who don’t have issues?”
“Yeah,” the other guy said, eagerly.
“Alright, then,” Scott lay on his back, he pulled The Guy between his legs. “Alright.”


MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

Poor Scott, he has had a complicated life. I hope he can find happiness. Great writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Scott has suffered from a great deal of complications so far, mostly of his own making, which is not to blame him but to perhaps point out that the way out is not good look, but a more honest life.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Scott never knew quite how he felt coming back home from these encounters. The fucking, and then later the being fucked, was exhilarating. But by the time he was home he felt blank—not ashamed—just blank. And then, sleeping alone, he felt more alone, more hopeless than ever before. But the moments of sex were moments of intense freedom and when things had been going on like this for some time Jen simply said:
“I’m pregnant. And it’s not yours.”
Later that night while Scott was talking to Matt, his best friend said: “You need a good divorce attorney.”
Scott was silent, confused. He said: “What about you?”
“Yeah, Scott,” Matt told him, wearily, “That’s what I meant.”




“Daddy! Daddy!”
Nathan and Taylor ran down around the porch and down the steps racing into Scott’s arms, and he lifted them up as they shouted.
“My boys,” he kissed them both, and setting them down.

“The boys are getting so big!” Scott enthused. “And Nathan’s going to be the lead in the Easter play. It’s not religious though, because Jen didn’t want them going to Catholic school.”
“What?” Matt said, “is he a bunny?”
“He’s The Bunny,” Scott chuckled. “Taylor is an egg.”
Matt burst out laughing and clapped his hands.
“Kids,” he said, “they fucking change you.”
Scott nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure how his kids had changed him. They had changed his life. They were the reason he and Matt were having drinks with these clients, the reason he was in a suit and tie or paying for a house where his ex wife lived..
“Alright,” Matt said, “let’s straighten up our ties and look like the bright young things these old fuckers want us to be.”
“You need to stop, man,” Scott said.


Arthur Beamon had asked them, “You guys like what you do?”
“I love it,” Matt said with so much joy Scott wondered if he was joking.
“It’s a good life,” Scott said.
“You’ve got beautiful children and a great wife,” Cromwell told him.
“Yes,” Scott nodded.
“You kids’ll go far in this life,” Arthur Beaman added.
“As long as you want to,” Jack Cromwell said as the train pulled up.
“What’s that, sir?” Matt said.
“As long as you want to,” Jack said. “You could find yourself seventy and regret everything you’ve done.”
While Matt was blinking, Jack Cromwell said, “Have a great day, boys.”
Arthur Beamon affectionately shook Scott’s shoulder, and the two older men got onto the train leaving Matt and Scott staring at the ground.




Even though he didn’t really have a home anymore, being away from home gave him that old need. Apparently those old men were sentimental about children, and they had enjoyed meeting Scott’s and going back with him and Matt to drop the boys off. Now, even though Scott loved Matt, as soon as those old guys were on the train and their business done, he’d wanted to contact the guy he’d emailed the night before.
As the sky darkened and the green ears of corn on either side of him darkened while he sped down the country road with the boy in his car, he remembered what Matt had said to him after Larry and Jack had left on the train.

“You in a hurry? I saw you check your phone.”
“I’m gonna meet somebody before I head out. About something.”
“That’s vague.”
“Yeah,” was all Scott said.
“I won’t ask then. Do you have to go back tonight?”
“I…” Scott thought on this then said, “I got someone back there.”
“Guy or girl.”
Scott looked at him.
“A guy,” Matt said.
“He’s awesome, and I want to sleep next to him tonight.”
“You were always better at being yourself than I was,” Matt said.
“Not that much better,” Scott said as they walked off of the platform, “or else I wouldn’t be in this situation.”
Suddenly Matt said: “You love those kids?”
“Of course I do.”
Matt nodded as they went to Scott’s car, “Then before you meet whoever you have to meet, we need to go over some shit so you can have your kids near you and sue the shit out of that bitch.”

Before it was liquor that Scott couldn’t get enough of, but the first time he’d had sex with another man, it was like a drug for him as well. When he’d started he couldn’t stop. He spent nights online and on the phone looking for the next fix, the next fuck. It happened in benders and no sooner had Scott left the train station and Matt, then he’d gotten a message from this hot thing with the almost beard riding beside him.
“Right here, good?” Scott asked.
“Yeah,” the kid said dumbly. He had the look of someone who needed a fix and didn’t want to look at his supplier. Scott shrugged and they got out of the car, pushing through the cornstalks. He was already ramrod hard, and the kid had a nice ass. He grabbed it. In the midst of the field, the boy turned around, got on his knees and pulled at Scott’s trousers. Scott threw his blazer on the ground. It got stuck on the stalks as the boy inhaled his cock.
“That’s it. That’s it,” Scott said. “That’s just right. Fuck.” Scott closed his eyes.
None of it mattered now. Jen and the kids didn’t matter. The car by the road didn’t matter, just this kid’s tight hot mouth on his cock, just his tongue licking up and down his shaft, just his hands on his ass. This kid was so hungry.
“Fuck me,” the boy commanded, thickly.
He stood up and Scott turned him around and gripped his hips. Scott spat on his hand and rubbed his dick and then they both groaned as Scott entered him.
“Aahh,” the kid’s voice grew louder as Scott pushed deeper into him.
“Yeah,” Scott panted. Above them the sky was going darker with rain clouds, and Scott began to fuck him gently.
“That’s it,” the kid said. “Hit it. Hit it.”
That was it. It felt so good. So basic, so… tender. There wasn’t anything more tender than this. He’d be home tonight, in Felix’s arms, and one day they’d have this. All the things they wanted to do in the dark that he had to do right here, all the tenderness and love he felt for him. How he wanted to give this to him.
“You know,” Scott said in a shallow voice while he fucked him, “You’re a really nice guy. You got some really pretty—”
Scott was disconcerted as the kid pulled away from him, unscrewing himself and his pants down, he looked at Scott in anger.
“What did I say?” Scott demanded. “You’re a really beautiful—”
And then the kid punched Scott in the face, and while Scott groaned and tried to pull himself into his pants, the kid kicked him in the gut. Scott heard the sounds of jangling and realized, blinking, the kid had stolen his keys.
With the mind of a business man, Scott remembered his blazer and moved through the cornfield, beating back the cornstalks that threw themselves in his face. But they got in the way of the kid too, and just as he was coming to the car and out of the fields, Scott tackled him and began to beat the shit out of him.
“Stop!” the boy wailed. “Stop.”
Scott stopped and the boy looked at him.
“What are you…?” the boy caught his breath. “What are you going to do to me?”
Scott looked equally winded and like he couldn’t decide either. And then, suddenly he pushed the boy’s legs in, bending him like an accordion, and while the boy’s eyes went blank with fear, Scott began to fuck him.
This time while the boy cried out, his voice broken like a sob, the more he screamed, the harder Scott fucked him. This wasn’t like being with Felix at all. This wasn’t like how he wanted to be with Matt all those years ago. This was sex. Sex was violent. When Jen had poked holes in condoms, gotten him drunk, screwed him and then trapped him into marriage it was just—
“Oh… God—”
AS
“Please—”
VIOLENT
“Fuuucccccck!”
AS
They both shouted as Scott lost balance and came inside of the kid.
THIS.

Scott stopped for a moment, waiting for his balance to return, caught in the triumph of sex. This was the most triumphant, the least confused he’d ever felt with another person. And then he realized that the last time he’d forgotten himself with this boy, he’d nearly lost his car, so he climbed off of him, and while the kid was still accordioned on the ground. Scott staggered to his car and climbed in.
As he put the key in the ignition the kid shouted, unfolding himself painfully from the dirt.
“What are you doing!”
Scott waited for the boy to stagger to the car, and when he hung from the side of the door and demanded, “What the fuck are you doing, town’s thirty miles away?” Scott looked at him impassively and said, “Leaving you here.”
He turned the key, and the ignition growled, and then the car sped down the road. The boy chased it for only about ten paces before collapsing in the road, and when Scott turned on the radio he heard Korn roar:

I'm coming undone
One looks so strong
So delicate
Wait
I'm starting to suffocate
And soon I anticipate
I'm coming undone
One looks so strong
So delicate!



“WHAT THE FUCK!” Felix cried when he opened the door.
“Whaddo you mean?”
“Have you seen you face?”
“No,” Scott shook his head.
“What happened?”
“I got into a little trouble,” Scott said. “And no, I don’t want to talk about it.”
When Felix just stood there, he said, “Can I come in?”
“Oh!” Felix remembered himself, and he pulled Scott in saying, “Let me get a cold cloth. I don’t keep ice in the house, but I’ve got a half frozen jug of water. Just let me… Get that.”
Felix was headed to the kitchen when he turned around and said, “Does it hurt?”
“Not really,” Scott said. “I’m just… I’m glad to be home—I mean, here.”
Felix opened his mouth, then he nodded and went to the kitchen.
While Felix was handing Scott the cold cloth, Scott said, “Your head’s covered in soap.”
“Ah, that’s right. I was shaving my head. I do it every four days. I need to get back to it. Can you mind yourself?”
Scott, cloth pressed to his face, nodded.
Felix went into the little bathroom, turned on the hot water and began to wet his hair again and then, turning it off, took the razor to it. A few moments later he said, “Scott, I feel you breathing on my head.”
“You do that every four days?”
“Alopecia runs in the family and a few years ago,” Felix explained, running the razor down his scalp, carefully, “a patch disappeared from the back of my head. It came back, but now and again little patches would disappear. And then, this year, three patches just fell out and I was like… fuck it. I can’t deal with that shit anymore. So… And maybe it will come back, and maybe it won’t, but…”
“I like it,” Scott shrugged. He put his hand out.
“What?”
“I’ll finish it for you.”
Felix looked at him.
“I promise not to cut you up.”
“It’s not that,” Felix said. Then he handed the razor over, and Scott dipped it in the water, then began to shave his head.
“It makes life a lot easier,” Felix said.
Then he said, “You know when you said it’s good to be home?”
“I didn’t mean it,” Scott said. “I mean back in town is home, not like, this is my home. It’s your home and—”
“I’m glad you’re home, too.”
Scott smiled.
“Did you get my message?”
“Which one?”
“I think I said something to the effect of I love you.”
“Yes,” Scott said. “Yes, I got that.”
“And I think you said—”
“That I love you.”
Scott dipped the razor in the water and finished shaving. Felix took the bottle of alcohol from the sink, and with a bit of toilet paper, began to dab it all over his head.
“A minimum of blood,” he smiled, satisfied, looking at the wet paper.
Felix put the cold cloth on his head and then he said, “Would you go into that cupboard and hand me the Vaseline?”
Scott nodded, and then he crossed the small space to lean into the hallway, reach for the Vaseline, and hand it to Felix. Felix took a small dab and began to rub it into his hands and then over his head.
“Felix?”
“Yes?”
“You know what I would like you to do?”
“Huh?”
Scott handed him the razor.
“No!” Felix shook his head. “I love your hair! It’s great hair.”
“I never had it like this until Jen. Cut it off, for me. I look like a tool.”
Then Scott, with his black eye laughed, “We can look like twins.”
“You’re going to look like something from a concentration camp. Go in the kitchen, and I’ll get the scissors and do it. If you’re serious.”
Scott nodded and left the bathroom, and Felix turned out the light heading after him.
Scott sat in the chair, and Felix wetted his hair and then, hesitating at first, he lifted a wet lock of Scott’s hair and cut it.
“And now the rest,” Scott directed.
Felix obeyed, and heard his sheers cut through Scott’s hair.
“Are you going to tell me the truth about what happened in Michigan?” Felix asked him.
“No,” Scott replied as the sheers cut the last of the hair they could cut, and Felix reached for the clippers.
“But if you ask nicely,” Scott said, “I’ll tell you a lie.”


MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great portion! Scott continues to lead a complicated life with many bumps in the road. Hopefully he has a good time with Felix. Excellent writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

That is an understated way of putting it. More to follow.

 

[ChrisGibson]

F O U R
F O U R





C O O K I E













Theme Song: When I Grow Up, Garbage


Felix Owens stopped writing and picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“It’s me.”
“Ey, Scott.”
“Are you excited?”
“About what?”
“About our date, goof!”
Felix didn’t feel anything like a goof, but he said, “Yes, I am. I just… you still want to do that?”
“Yes,” Scott said. Then, “Did you think that just because…?”
“No.”
“What do you think I am? Of course I want us to go out?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t you?”
“Of course,” Felix said. “I just…”
He had been about to say, “I forgot,” but didn’t think that was a good answer.
Instead he said, “Are you staying the night?”
“I could,” Scott said. “What are you doing right now?”
“Writing. Trying to finish an article.”
“I shouldn’t keep you.”
“No,” Felix said into the phone, his palms resting on the hot keyboard, “You shouldn’t. But I don’t really have the heart to stop you.”

The first sustained conversation Joey Flowers ever had with Felix began, “How do you feel about bisexuals?”
Joey was working on Felix’s radiator, and Felix said, “Huh?”
“Well, you said you were gay, but how do you feel about bisexuals?”
“That is a truly odd question.”
“I mean, like, do you believe some people are bi? Do you believe in bisexuals?”
“I believe in them the way I believe in unicorns, dragons and griffins. They exist somewhere—usually in a fantasy novel—but not in this city.”
“Oh,” Joey seemed rather offended.
“Bisexual is just a nice word for a gay man who knows how inconvenient men are and prefers to be seen with women.”
“Well, maybe sometimes,” Joey said, turning to finish bleeding the radiator. “But I think there are some real ones.”
“I never met a woman married to a bisexual who said she was happy about it, and I never met a man who said he was bisexual who was happy with a wife.”
“But—”
Having begun his tirade, Felix continued, “Bisexuals are just homos who really want kids and can’t handle other men.”
Joey, in his jeans and work shirt, his ball cap turned around folded his arms over his chest looking grimly at the radiator and then at his toolbox.
“Did I say something?” Felix began.
“You’re very smart,” Joey said. “But you’re sort of harsh.”
Felix did not wish to pursue this. After all, no matter how good looking the young maintenance man with his broad shoulders and the line of beard around his jaw was, he didn’t really know him, and he had other things to do than learn about his sexuality. But he couldn’t help himself.
“Are you telling me you’re bi?”
“I am bi!” Joey said more loudly than he meant. He covered his mouth, looking a mix of savage and adorable.
Felix wanted to say something sweet, accepting or compassionate, but what he ended up saying was:
“Your poor girlfriend.”


Joseph Flowers also remembered a day six years earlier, when he had been thirteen.
Thomas Frushour was a defender on the La Crosse team and that day, after practice, as they were going to hit the showers, he clapped Joey on the ass and said, “Good game, Flowers.”.
“Thanks.”
These days Joey took a long time getting to the showers. One of the boys at school had gotten an erection in the shower, and from then on everyone called him Woody. Joey didn’t want to earn that name, and the way he was feeling now, anything could happen. Frushour was still talking to Coach even though Joey had taken his time, going back into the school, pretending to look for things, hoping to come to the showers when everyone was done. Scott would be here soon. He didn’t want to keep him waiting.
“Ey, Flowers wait up!” Frushour said as Joey was walking with the equipment bag.
Joey did, and Frushour was carrying another sack. They headed into the comparative darkness of the gym, and then the greater, cooler, darkness of the equipment room.
“Can I ask you a question?” Frushour said while they were stacking equipment.
“Sure,” Joey said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Alright. How come you don’t shower with everyone else?”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t. Not anymore.”
Well, why lie?
“Remember Woody? I don’t wanna be Woody Two. My body’s weird.”
Frushour laughed and said, “Everyone’s body is weird. Woody just got caught, and nobody likes him, poor fucker. Does he have a real name?”
“Isn’t it Brendan?”
Frushour nodded. “It might be. You afraid of getting boners and getting caught?”
“Yeah,” Joey said, feeling a little dizzy. “Something like that.”
“Hold on,” Tom Frushour said.
Joey did.
Frushour reached into his shorts, and pulled out his cup. Joey was instantly jarred, and then Tom Frushour stuck his hands back in and started rubbing himself. Joey wanted to look away. He wanted to be away. He wished he hadn’t come here. This was what he wanted to see. This was one of his web porns. Under his cup his own penis was going heavy.
“See,” Frushour said, suddenly pulling out a penis that was large and full headed, stiff and thick in his hands.
“No big deal.”
Joey was hard. His mouth was dry, and his body was trembling.
“Yeah...” he remembered saying.

This became a daily sort of thing, something that, just turned thirteen, Joey feared and thrilled to. Every day there was some variation of going into the equipment room, and Thomas Frushour exposing himself, and then them hitting the shower. By the time they got there it was no one but Joey and Frushour, and in the shower Frushour would wash himself the way those guys in the college porns did, touching his nipples and stroking himself into erection then laughing it off. Joey laughed it off too, not understanding what was happening, unable to stay away from it.
One day in the equipment room, Frushour just said, “Would you like to suck my cock?”
It wasn’t mean spirited, just an offer. Joey looked for an angle. Was he joking or was he really offering?
Frushour said in a tender voice. “I like you, Joey. You’re a good guy. I just wondered what it would be like if you sucked my cock.”
“Have you...?” Joey’s words fled and then his voice fled too, drying up. “Did you ever... do it?”
“Wanted to. Saw videos about it. I could do it to you when you get done doing it to me.”
Joey wasn’t in his cup, and now Frushour laughed and pointed out Joey’s groin.
“Woody,” he murmured.
“Don’t say that,” Joey said, embarrassed and jittery, hard and trembling all at once.
“I’m just playing, Flowers. See,” he said, dropping his shorts, “I’m the same way.”
And then Joey dropped to his knees, but Tom Frushour said, “No. Not right here. Further back behind the basketball cage.”
Joey got up quickly and almost tripped to the cages where the basketballs were. The basketballs were on one side, the volleyballs on the other and they made a little dark cul de sac in the empty school.
And then suddenly Tom’s cock was in his mouth, he was taking it deep in, and pulling it in and out, licking the head, devouring it, and Tom was muttering, “Oh... ah... oh...” his voice was high and pleading, and his hands went for Joey’s hair, and then fell, lifting up and down, helpless. Joey opened his eyes and looked up to see Tom thrusting in the darkness. Tom’s face was beautiful with a dimple in his chin. His hair was shaved low. He came up and put his hands around Tom’s face, then kissed his mouth.
“No, Joe. Not... that,” he said.
And then Joey went back to sucking Tom’s cock. It was so huge and so tender and so hard and so slick and.… was this what sucking a pacifier was like? Why did this feel so good? And then Tom’s body rocked, and before he could pull Joey away he was coming. His semen filled Joey’s mouth, chocked him, dripped out of his lips and down his chin, onto his tee shirt. It dripped in a thick rope on the floor.
“I’m sorry, Joe,” Tom said, leaning against the wall. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
Even when coughing, Joey wanted to lick Tom’s penis clean. He wanted to kiss him again.
Tom said, “Okay, now it’s your, turn, Joe.”
Tom was a couple of years older and, if anything, democratic. With gusto he went to sucking off Joey, and Joey cried out and planted his hands against the wall. He was afraid to touch Tom, to put his hands on Tom’s head the way Tom had done to him, but Tom reached out, and pulled Joey’s hands to his scalp, guided them in rubbing his hair and his shoulders until he was confident in doing it himself. It felt so... fucking... good.... Joey was surprised when he was coming, but he caught himself and tried to pull out of Tom’s mouth. Instead Tom pulled him in deeper, and he moaned as he emptied his load in Tom’s mouth, as Tom pulled away licking the shooting semen from the tip of Joey, sucking him even when he was finished.
When it was over they sat side by side, and Tom frowned then laughed, wiping his hand off.
“I just put my hand in jizz. I don’t know if it was yours or mine. It doesn’t fucking matter.”
By now Joey didn’t wait for his brother. He just took the Number 6 to Colby and Howard whenever he was done.
“Now, Joe, I’m going to kiss you. I don’t know why I said you couldn’t do it to me. I was scared, I guess. But that was dumb. After we just did this.
“It felt so fucking good,” Tom said as an afterthought. Joey was scared of speaking.
“I don’t know what was better, sucking you or getting sucked.”
And then he kissed Joey. They kissed for a long time before heading to the showers. And then Joey headed home.

MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was interesting to learn more about Joey and his past. I am glad he was able to admit to being bisexual. Felix is brutally honest with opinions but I think his heart is in the right place. Great writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Felix is brutally honest and brutal in general. I wouldn't know exactly where his heart is. Is Joey being honest when he says he's bisexual? There has been very little evidence that he's anything but gay. But maybe he's being as honest as he can be. More tomorrow.

 

[ChrisGibson]

AS JOEY REMEMBERS THE PAST, FELIX HAS A FEW MEMORIES OF HIS OWN


“Whatever happened to Tom?” Felix asked Joey a few mornings later, when he had invited him over for coffee.
Joey raised a finger and took a sip of coffee.
“That is for later.”
He looked at the clock on his phone.
“I need to get back to work.”
Felix opened his mouth and Joey said, “Thank you for the note, and I’m really not angry at you. And maybe you’re even right.”
Heading to the door, Joey suddenly stopped and said, “Can I come by later?”
“I guess,” Felix said.
“And hang?”
“I’m too old for us to hang.”
“That’s crazy. You’re not old at all,” Joey had said. then he left.



The Monday after Scott had returned from his trip to Fort Atkins, Felix sat on the futon with Joey Flowers who said, “You’re not telling me something.”
“Cause you know me so well?”
“Don’t make fun of me, Felix. You’re… different. Scott was right.”
“Whaddo you mean Scott was right?”
“He told me he talked to you, and you weren’t yourself.”
“Maybe.”
“Is it Scott?”
“Yes. Partially.”
“What about the other part?”
“I don’t want to talk about the other part,” Felix said. “But I will tell you about Scott.”
“Is he… is it about the black eye?”
“He didn’t tell me how he got it. He just had it when he came over here Saturday night. And he wouldn’t say anything about it. I let him stay with me and didn’t ask any questions.”
“It’s so cool that you know my brother,” Joey said.
Felix nodded.
“You know what he needs?”
“Huh?”
“A good girlfriend. A nice woman to take his mind off of Jen.”
Felix looked at him with mild irritation and Joey said, “What?”
“You all really don’t talk. Do you?”


The night Scott Flowers returned from Michigan, he sat in a chair, and Felix wetted his hair and then, hesitating at first, he lifted a wet lock of Scott’s hair and cut it.
“And now the rest,” Scott directed.
Felix obeyed, and heard his sheers cut through Scott’s hair.
“Are you going to tell me what happened in Michigan?” Felix asked him.
“No,” Scott replied as the sheers cut the last of the hair they could cut, and Felix reached for the clippers.
“But if you ask nicely,” Scott said, “I’ll tell you a lie.”

Felix did not answer as he snapped on the clippers and they whirred over Scott’s scalp, as he pulled back Scott’s ears and shaved behind them. This was quick work. He said, “We’re done now, my sometimes glum friend.”
It was after he had washed Scott’s hair and Scott had swept himself off the floor, holding one of his fuzzy brown locks in his hand and thinking, “It looked better on my head,” that Felix finally spoke.
“I think this time I do not want a lie. This time I think I want truth.”
They sat on the futon together and it made a mild squeak beneath them.
“We’re so fucked,” Scott said, at last. “Or I’m so fucked.”
“You’re getting divorced and I’m looking for work that isn’t there yet, so… True,” Felix said in a tone which seemed not to greatly care that this was true.
Scott turned to him, his smile looking very wolfish.
“I want you so bad,” Scott said. “I am a bad man who wants you bad. Right now. That’s the truth.”
Felix embraced Scott, holding him tight, and Scott pressed his head to Felix’s. In the year they had known each other before, close, laughing together, feeling affection, they never touched. But now they touched all the time and he could feel Scott, taller, broader than him, longer, crying in his arms. Suddenly Scott lifted his head, looked down at him and kissed him on the mouth. He did it again, and it felt right to have Scott’s mouth on his, to press himself into Scott and Scott to press into him. They held on greedily to each other’s faces, and ran their hands over their shaven heads, Felix feeling the softness of Scott’s shorn hair. They looked at each other, blinking, and Scott bit his lips, looking grim, and then he pushed Felix gently down and lay on top of him kissing him. Without words, he began unbuttoning Felix’s shirt and Felix began to pull up Scott’s. The two of them clung together. Felix scrambled from the sofa, going down on his knees to unwork Scott’s belt and Scott said, “Do we need to take the bed out?”
“Yes,” Felix said, signaling for Scott to stand up, and when Scott did, Felix unbuckled his trousers and pulled them down.

They had been naked in a minute. Scott had pressed him to the bed.
He caught Scott’s hair in his hands and pulled his face into his chest, wrapping his thighs around him while, on the side of the bed, Scott fucked him.
“Almost,” Scott panted, thrusting again, “there.”
Felix ran his hands down the Scott’s back and pulled him in. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth feeling Scott hard inside of him.
“I’m gonna come…” Scott warned him.
Scott moaned, “Oh—fuck—” as he came, a hot slick shower all over Felix’s stomach, dripping from the tip of his cock before he pressed his shaven head into Felix’s chest.
The two of them lay side by side on the bed, exhausted.
They fell asleep like that with the lights still on, clinging to each other as, outside, the sound of cars passing on Maron Street came through the window.
A little later, when they woke up, Scott moved off the bed and walked about the apartment, shutting off the lights. For a moment, Felix saw the length of his lovely body, his long torso, his almost flat stomach, his Buddhist bald head.
Felix pushed out of the bed and stood before him so they both faced each other, naked. Felix looked down to see his penis, erect and thick, touching Scott’s. Scott leaned forward and kissed him, pulling his face forward. Felix held Scott by the hips and pulled him down. Kissing, linking limbs, sighing as, at last, they ran their hands over each other’s bodies.
Scott lay on his back, running his hands up and down Felix’s thighs, looking up at his brown chest, shiny with sweat while he felt Felix fucking him, touching his face while Felix looked down on him in love and, at last, looked up, and making a staggering noise while Scott tightened his grip around his thighs, Felix came, his semen shooting deep, and then trickling out of Scott the same time Scott felt his own orgasm, and pointed his cock to Felix, showering his chest and stomach.
At least a minute later, Felix was still kneeling between Scott’s legs, still hard inside of him.
“You look beautiful with me inside of you,” Felix said.
“You look beautiful covered in my come,” Scott returned.
After that, neither of them said a thing. There was nothing to be said.


Scott could smell coffee brewing when he pulled the blanket back over his head.



He pushed back the covers and thought it was decent to pull on underwear before going to the kitchen.
“Well,” Felix said from where he sat on the little loveseat, smoking a cigarette.
Scott yawned, stretched, scratched his head and went to the coffee pot. Still yawning he poured himself a cup and Felix said, “No creamer?”
Scott shook his head and sat down in the chair at the little table across from Felix. For a long time neither one of them said anything, and then Scott said, “So what now?”
“I don’t know,” Felix said.
“I’m not sorry about it,” Scott said. “Not any part of it.”
“Neither am I.”
“I know we weren’t supposed to. Not yet.”
“You’re still married.”
“Yeah,” Scott said, but what he meant by that Felix could not tell.
“I’m an adulterer. Adulteress?”
Scott looked at him with narrowed eyes and said, “I can never fucking tell if you’re serious or not.”
“I think I start out joking,” Felix admitted, “and then I’m not entirely sure where I go.”
“I know,” Scott began, “this wasn’t planned. I know we were supposed to wait. A long time.”
“Preferably, when you weren’t married.”
“And I know things just happened.”
“Things did not just happen,” Felix said, putting his coffee cup down. “We’re both grown men. You’re too old to say something just happened, and if you are God knows I am. You kissed me, I kissed you, we took off our clothes and spent the night having sex in every position we could. That’s what happened.”
“And like I said,” Scott said, “I don’t regret any of it.”
“Not even—”
“Well that part was unfortunate.” Scott frowned, “I thought it would work because it always does in porn, but I don’t really regret that either.”
Felix grinned at him and Scott grinned back at him.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” Scott said, standing up.
In his Jockeys, Scott got up out of his chair, and leaned over Felix to kiss him.
“You stink,” Felix said.
“I know. I should do something about that.”
“You know where the shower is.”
Scott held his hand out to Felix and said, “Do you think you could lead me there?”
Felix nodded, feeling surprisingly shy.
“I could do that.”
“Think you could share it with me?”
“I don’t know how hot you’ll like it? If we can agree on a temperature.”
“If I promise,” Scott clasped his hands together dramatically, “to not fight you about the water, will you get in with me?”
Felix stood up, putting his coffee down.
“I guess that makes it a deal, then,” he said, and followed Scott out of the kitchen.

MORE ON THURSDAY

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great portion! It seems like Scott and Joey aren’t entirely honest with each other about their personal lives. Hopefully they can change that. I am enjoying this story immensely and look forward to more in a few days!

 

[ChrisGibson]

No, there is a great deal of honesty being with held, and now I just saw the last bit of dishonesty, that I would post on Thursday. Posting will resume early Good Friday morning, Eastern time.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Tom Frushour’s house was about four blocks from school, a large red brick Colonial with classy furniture out of a magazine, and he was an only child. His mother was relaxed.
“I’m just going to give you boys a twenty,” she drawled almost like a Southern belle. “You can order what you want from the pizza place.”
“How’s that sound, Joe?” Tom asked.
Joey nodded. “That sounds cool.”

“You know what I was thinking about?” Tom said while they were watching porn on his computer.
“When the pizza guy was here?”
“There was this one porn I saw, where this redheaded pizza guy comes to the door, and he just gets on his knees and starts just like, sucking the man off, like going at it like a fucking pump, just sucking him. And then the guy jizzes all over the pizza guy’s face. And I thought... fucking hot. That would be fucking hot. To do... You know?”
They watched a little porn where this body builder, who in a way reminded Joey of Tom, had this little watermelon. He was sitting there just smoothed over in oil, completely naked, completely hot, Joey thought, and there was a little hole in the watermelon, and so he started fucking it. He was doing it slowly, moving the fruit up and down on his dick, and his eyes went all stupid. His jaw got slack. And then he put it on the floor and slowly, he began to fuck the watermelon. Tom kept on rewinding it as the guy was about to come, as his hams went taut, and he shot into the fruit.
And then his hand was in Joey’s lap, and he started to stroke him. Joey had been waiting for this to happen, and Tom rewound the video to the beginning, to the naked man masturbating, and then getting down to fuck the watermelon, and then ejaculating inside of it. And then the man on the video was eating out of it, and digging out of the watermelon with his fingertips, licking his own semen. Now he was fucking the fruit again, and by then Tom had Joey’s shorts off, and his underwear around his knees and he was the same and then, just like that, Tom said, “I’m gonna fuck you now. Alright?” more like he was clarifying a fact than asking a favor.
He put Joey down on his knees, and then Joey heard a squirt of something, and a click from the computer and voices from a new porn. And then Tom caught him by the hips and he felt Tom’s penis at the crack of his ass. It felt so good. It pressed in and tried to find the hole and still it felt good and it felt good pressing in a bit, and then Joey gasped. Tom squirted some more... lotion he hoped, and slid in, making the walls of Joey’s anus burn. He wanted to catch his breath, he’d never felt such pain. But he moved around it, fitting Tom in, and then, with a rhythm, Tom Frushour began fucking him.



Once, Joseph Flowers had read a blog where a man was describing the first time he’d been fucked in the ass. When it finally happened to him, Joey remembered that it had been happening a while before he knew it was going on, and then it had been hurting a while before he knew that it hurt. Tom had gone further than he needed to, not knowing what he was doing, not using enough lube, not trying to hurt him, but not really knowing any better, enjoying the unexpected pleasure too much Joey imagined.
But then the truth was, even when it was uncomfortable, even when it was too much, in a way he not so much enjoyed it, as needed it. Needed the on-his-hands-and-knee-ness of being bent over and fucked in Tom Frushour’s room. He needed the right-now-ness of it. There was no past, no consequence, no reflection. Just the moment right there where Tom was pressing into him, harder and harder, and then the grunting, and Tom cursing, and Joey knew Tom had ejaculated inside of him.
When Tom pulled out of him, Joey went to his side on the floor, feeling a burning deep inside of him, squeezing himself together, feeling weirdly opened and strangely exultant about it.
“You all right, Joe?” Tom said.
Joey didn’t say anything. He just lay on his side, and Tom said, “I’ll jack you off. Suck you off. Make it worth your while.”
Apparently Tom felt guilty.
“I’m gonna suck you off, Joe, all right?”
And he did. Joey was already erect, and he was burning down there, a little raw. Tom’s mouth was on him, sucking him. He could hear Tom gulping and swallowing on his cock.
Joey was in the opposite place of Tom. Joey, who could admit that he had been afraid of many things, was afraid of nothing right now.
Here he was, on his side, jeans and briefs pulled down, Tom sucking like someone starving for that last bit of nourishment, and Joey was giving it to him in a body twist of orgasm, flooding his mouth. And how come it felt so good if it was a sin? How come this openness in his ass despite the ache and the burning, felt good too?
For that moment there was only feeling, throbbing, aching, pleasure without consequence or question, future or past. Just being.





There was a limit to Thomas Frushour’s love. Tom had no interest in being sodomized, and didn’t offer his ass up to Joey. Once Joey asked, and Tom said, in a gentle way, “I don’t know if I want to do that, Joey.”
“But you do it to me.”
“But you enjoy it,” Tom said.
Joey wanted to protest, but realized that he did enjoy it. Even that first time when there had been discomfort and pain. When it was over, Joey kept sitting on the toilet waiting for something to come out. Still, he thought there was some lack of logic in Tom’s argument, only he couldn’t point it out.
Meanwhile, for the rest of that year, up until Joey was fourteen, he continued to have a relationship with Tom Frushour. It left the equipment room and went into Tom’s house at sleepovers, or sometimes when his parents were away. It never occurred to Joey to have Tom over to his house. The fact that Tom wouldn’t let Joey fuck him sat in Joey’s head, a ghost of the knowledge that things were not equal between them. But Tom was two years older, after all, and in everything else, sexually and otherwise, Tom was equal, or at least as equal as Joey could have expected him to be.
One night Tom called Joey up and asked him if he could come over.
Between the old house and Tom’s house was a stretch of pine lined road where the northern end of town was yet to be developed. Next came the slightly larger and newer houses of East End where Tom lived.
“Just come on in,” Tom had told him over the phone. “My folks are gone.”
Joey parked his bike on the new black asphalt driveway, and he did just come in. He called Tom’s name, but Tom didn’t answer. He went into the kitchen, which was built over the garage on a bridge connecting the lower level to the top level of the house, and he poured himself a glass of orange juice, drank half of it, and then went up to Tom’s room.
He heard noises, but they didn’t make any sense. Not because he didn’t know what they were, but because he knew exactly what they were. It made no sense for them to be coming from Tom’s room if Joey wasn’t there with him. They were loud and whimpering, Tom’s voice was at least.
And then he must have gathered up his nerve, and he went in there and there was Tom who wouldn’t be fucked, wild hair tousled and pulled, being fucked, by a slightly older guy, a guy with a little diamond stud earring, and slick sweat, like someone from one of the twink porns. His eyes were spaced out with the joy of fucking, and Tom’s red face looked out and saw Joey, and there was no shame. There was just this desperate motioning with his hand.
Joey came into the room, half dizzy. The guy fucking Tom stopped. The world seemed to have stopped. Nothing made much sense, even less sense than usual.
“You Joey?” the guy said.
He nodded.
He pulled out of Tom, and Tom whimpered while this guy sat on the edge of the bed with beautiful thighs and chiseled chest. He must have been seventeen or eighteen, and Tom was lying on his side, curled up and not in control. He said, as the guy took out a lighter and lit a marijuana pipe:
“This is my cousin, Cage.”
Without any explanation of himself, Cousin Cage, letting smoke leak out of his mouth and nostrils said, “Tom says you like to fuck. I’d been telling him I’d like to try out a three way or somethin’ like that.
“You cool with that?”
Joey thought that this boy with the buzzed body, with the light brown hair on his face and brown lashes, with his hazel eyes and the smoke leaking slowly out of his nose was the most beautiful guy he’d ever seen, that he definitely wanted to have sex with him, that this was so cool, like something he’d seen in movies,.
But when he looked at him, Joey realized with complete clarity that this definitely was NOT cool with him. That he did not want to have sex with two people at once, who were related to each other, who were.... there was something wrong with all of this.
But he did not say no.
The next day was the first time that Joey ever felt like he was a horrible person. During the whole dizzying affair with Tom Frushour he never felt guilty. He had the sense not to run around telling everyone or anyone for that matter, but he never felt like there was something at the root of him that was bad, that was tainted. But that night they had seen the same porno clips he had seen and, apparently, had imagined him as the boy in the middle, the one who was being fucked in the ass by one, sucking the other, while they talked over him and smacked his ass and said, “You like that, bitch. Don’t you? Bitch likes to suck that dick.”
That was something he didn’t live down. He didn’t live down the fact that he hadn’t been forced into being disgraced, but he’d consented anyway.

What was he to Tom? He felt betrayed. He was angry, but the anger was directed toward himself. Who would have done what he did? Who would have let it happen? Who would let their boyfriend do that to them. But then Tom was not his boyfriend. When had Tom ever said, “I love you, Joey,”? Or when, in all the times when he was down on his knees, sucking Tom’s dick, had he ever thought of asking, “Do you love me?” Had he ever asked for some type of assurance? Even now, a few years later, Joey didn’t know what to call Tom. He had imagined that things were equal between them, but when he was seventeen Joey looked back and saw it differently. Tom, latently gay and unable to admit it, had seen someone a little younger he could experiment with, and this person, Joey, had offered no resistance, had let Tom do everything he wanted, and had done to him everything he wanted with no messy questions, no, “Are we gay?” or “Are we a couple?” just simple capitulation to all of Tom’s sexual whims.
There was no reason, Joey realized, that Tom should have told Joey, “I like to have sex with my cousin,” or that, “me and my cousin talk about you and having a three way with you.” In fact, knowing Tom, there was no reason Joey should have been surprised by anything about him. What Joey was surprised about, though, was the level of his own stupidity.
After it was over, and Joey was lying there almost bored by the sight of Cage’s dick, thick and magnificent as it was, Cage offered him a toke that Joey refused.
“I’m not gay,” he said. “I just like to do this now and again.”
Tom was chuckling behind Joey. Joey could almost see Tom, naked, reaching across him for the pipe. He had moment upon a moment upon another moment of clarity.
This Cage was a sad person and so was Tom, and so was he if he kept this up, this skulking. If enjoying having sex with your male cousin on a regular basis and being a seventeen year old having three ways with a fifteen year old and a fourteen year old boy didn’t make you gay, what did?
And what was Joey to Tom? Certainly any hazy idea of being a boyfriend was dead right here on this bed.
One of the Frushour cousins lightly farted, and it left the earthy smell appropriate to Joey’s discovery.

That was the end of Thomas and for high school he ended up at Calverton, where Scott had graduated eight years earlier. He joined the football team and when Molly Taghon introduced himself to her, he was so convinced that guys were a bad idea that he never thought he would be with one again. He was sure the experience of Thomas Frushour had burnt him and so, Homecoming weekend, when he was fifteen, he fucked Molly on the football field after the game and entered the world of proper sex, the world where boys went with girls and didn’t end up with the things happened to them that had happened to him. That old memories and desires would assert themselves, that he would eventually seek out the attention of other boys now and again he had not foreseen. Molly wore his jacket, and by junior year she wore his ring. Things did not work out with them, and this left him free to meet boys. Once, when he and some guy in a trailer park were sitting up naked on his sofa, the guy asked him, “So, how does this whole bisexual thing work out.”
“It’s like the best of both worlds. Why limit yourself?”
He’d been with this guy a year before, the same time he’d broken up with Molly, and the sex had been so hot, so passionate, so UNSAFE, he had refused the guys calls and not answered his emails ever afterward. He couldn’t go back to the feelings that had opened up. And then, one day, after he had been hired at the Marion Arms, he was laying out a white tarp and spray painting the walls of a corridor when Felix came walking down the hall and he apologized, “You can come around. Just let me move this right out your way.”
“It isn’t necessary,” Felix said, “I’ll just walk downstairs and come back the other way.”
“Are you sure?”
Felix had stopped, because he knew the boy. He had to think a while and get up close to him and then he realized he had seen him naked, on Adam4Adam with the screenname: Orange Hat and the tagline: When you see me, say you know what the Orange Hat is for.
“Absolutely,” Felix said, and when he came back around, Joey said, “I’m Joey,” and Felix said, “Felix. Pleased to meet you,” and doffed his fedora.
He wasn’t going to bring up orange hats today.

When Max was fixing the drain, Felix came into the kitchen with its black and white check pattern and saw Max’s legs hanging out of the sink.
“Joey not here?”
“Joey’s downstairs,” Max said, his voice echoing from under the sink.
It had been a month since Feli met Joey, and he had hoped to see him again.
“Um,” Felix said. “Well, that’s too bad. Tell him I saw him the other night.”
“Where?”
“Just tell him, Felix said, “I know what Orange Hat means.”

By the end of the day there was a knock at the door and Felix wasn’t surprised when Joey was standing there looking jumpy and amazingly hot.
“Whaddid you mean by…. Orange Hat.”
“I mean I saw you on the net. I saw your—”
Joey put a finger to his lips and pressed inside the apartment, closing the door behind him.
“You can’t say shit like that?”
Felix raised his eyebrow.
“Were you trying to make me feel weird? Or embarrassed?”
“No,” Felix said. “I was trying to tell you I want you.”

WE WILL RETURN AFTER EASTER