A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH – PART 563 by Rob Williams

Chapter 563 – "TOUGH TALK – TOUGH LOVE – ROUGH FIGHT"

IN THIS CHAPTER

Zack and Miguel, two hunky top-men lovers, have quarreled and split up. The tribe's leaders, Bob and Randy, try to heal the breach in their different ways. Bob reasons with Miguel, keeping his own lust for the handsome fireman in check. Randy's therapy is rougher on Zack. They talk, argue, fight savagely in the mud until one rugged alpha male butt-fucks the other. And the therapy works. ____________________________________________________________________

<><> IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER <><>

Two alpha-male lovers – the black top-man Zack and handsome Hispanic Miguel – had hit a rough patch in their normally passionate relationship.

Their last argument had become so heated that Miguel stormed out and drove aimlessly around and found himself at the house of Jason, the young muscle-stud fireman. To let off steam Miguel joined Jason in his workout in his home gym.

Jason's well-known vanity led to mutual body-worship and a contest of strength between the two gym-jocks. Miguel won and claimed his prize. He tied Jason up naked in front of the mirror and Jason got the ultimate narcissistic fantasy of watching the captive fireman forced to cum, and then suffer the pain and humiliation of being butt-fucked by the hunky Hispanic.

The wild sexual scene had helped Miguel forget his own domestic problems, at least for a while. Jason said, "Miguel, when you go back home, if things get too rough with Zack, you and your boy Finn are welcome to come back and crash here in our spare room."

It wasn't long before Miguel took Jason up on his offer. He thought at first that he wouldn't tell Zack what he had been doing. But he had never hidden anything from Zack before, and keeping secrets now would only make the situation worse. Besides, he had done nothing wrong. It was common for guys to fool around with other men in the tribe and tell their partners about it.

But Zack's reaction was wildly irrational. "Fuck you, man. You left here, went straight to that narcissistic fireman and fucked him?"

"Well, you can hardly blame me – I've had zero sex from you in the past few weeks, only hostility. At least Jason wanted me, lusted for me, and we had a blast – same as you do with Randy, Seth or whatever construction worker you stumble across."

Zack went totally off the rails. "Ah, that's it, is it? I'm just this lowlife construction worker fucking sweaty roughnecks in the dirt, while you, mister bigshot executive chef, are banging the blond muscle-jock fireman, who everyone praises as a life-saving hero. Shit, he's just a pansy male model, and you've probably been jerking off over his picture in that calendar like everyone else."

"Zack, that's crazy talk, and you know it ..."

"And even worse – I'm not just a dumbass laborer but a black one, not good enough for you and your classy new fuck buddy with his golden tan and blond hair. Dammit, I never took you for a racist but, fuck, that's exactly what you are, man. So why don't you take your racist ass out of here and go back to your blond model boyfriend? At least he don't have dirt under his fingernails like me." So Miguel grabbed his boy Finn and stormed out a second time.

A short time later the tribe's co-leader Bob was anxiously discussing the situation with his buddy, the cop Mark. "Zack's boy Darius overheard the whole insane conversation, Mark. Fortunately he knows from experience that the last thing he should do is intervene. I just hope Randy knows the same thing. You know how Randy can be."

"How Randy can be what?" came the deep voice as Randy came in. "I guess you're talking about all this bullshit that's going on with Zack. Darius told me all about it and I went over to Zack's building site to have it out with him, knock some sense into him. But he wasn't there."

"Thank god for that," Bob sighed. "Randy, please, please promise me one thing. Do not confront Zack, it'll only end in a massive fight – you're like two raging bulls. I have no idea what the solution to this mess is, but it sure as hell ain't fists."

"Ah," Randy said, "Zack's a good guy, real solid normally. But I see his point – Miguel had no right to hightail it down to Jason's and fuck him. Of course Zack got mad ... so would I."

"Randy please," Bob protested. "We mustn't take sides. Zack is behaving irrationally but we have to be ready to help both of them – only when they ask for it. But you're right, you probably would have behaved like Zack – god knows you have in the past.

"See, there's a parallel here between those two and us, Randy. I think at the root of this is Zack's fear of losing Miguel. When a macho guy like Zack feels passion for a man, as he does for Miguel, and you do for me, he's gonna imagine all sorts of crazy things.

Randy grunted. "Yeah, OK, I see what you're saying buddy. I guess in the past I was scared you would leave me and I did get kinda rough on you. But I wasn't used to being in love with a guy, I was nuts about you and I did what came natural to me, to scare you into staying."

Mark grinned. "It might surprise you to learn, Randy, that when most guys have relationship problems they talk it out, maybe get help from a shrink. But guys like you and Zack have animal instincts. The caveman emerges from his cave, grabs the guy by the hair and beats him into submission. So Bob, what's your advice here?"

"It's a tough one, but right now we should not get directly involved – lie low and wait for the dust to settle. And talking of shrinks, Mark, I'll have a word with Doc Steve and get his input."

Doc Steve agreed with Bob. "Your advice to the guys to keep a low profile is good. But there is maybe one thing you could do discretely. A flashpoint right now for Zack would be the thought of Miguel living with Jason. His raging mind will be cooking up all kinds of wild fantasies. So maybe you could suggest another place for Miguel and Finn to hole up until tempers have cooled. Physical distance is a good thing right now, but the Jason connection is not."

Bob had an idea, and called Nate. "You've been doing a great job with those new boys of yours, Noah and Vic, and I, er, was wondering if you've given thought to their living situation."

"Actually, sir, I've just now been talking to them cos I want us to live together. Adam and Chad have offered us the old guesthouse on their grounds. It needs a bunch of work, and the boys themselves suggested we move in right away and do the place up while we're living there. I liked the idea, cos it would be great for them to play a major part in redecorating our home."

"Nate, I like your thinking," Bob smiled. "And that would free up the boys' current apartment over the office." After the call Bob sighed with relief, and his twins asked what he thought would happen next.

"Guys, I have no idea. When you're dealing with macho egos like Zack and Miguel, and you throw passion into the mix, it's anyone's guess. I know this after years with one of the most macho of men, with a healthy ego and soaring passion – Randy, god love him."

========= CHAPTER 563 =========

<><> BOB & THE TWINS STRATEGIZE <><>

Bob was conflicted about how to handle the latest problem in the tribe.

He was alone with his boys – the twins Kyle and Kevin – and he ran his options by them. In the past he had found that talking with them helped him in difficult decisions.

"Thing is, boys, you've heard me say time and again that we can't take sides in the emotional upheaval between Zack and Miguel. On the other hand, we have an obligation, as their closest friends, to help them behind the scenes. But steering clear, and offering assistance, are two conflicting ideas. We have to finesse this."

Kyle said, "Doc Steve said the first thing, sir, is to sound out Miguel about moving out of Jason's and into Vic and Noah's apartment as soon as they've left."

"Steve is right, Kyle. I think the boys will be eager to move out right away and set up home with Nate, the big brother they love, in that old guesthouse of Adam's and Chad's. My guess is they'll be out tomorrow. No, that's not the problem. My dilemma is how to approach Miguel without looking as if I'm taking his side in the dispute.

"Why not a simple phone call, sir?" Kevin asked.

"No, in delicate situations like this I like to meet face to face, make eye contact. That way I can judge the other guy's mood and measure my approach accordingly."

The twins looked at each other, wordlessly communicating as they did so often. "Sir," Kevin said, "we think that if you go see him you should go unannounced. That way you'll gauge how he's feeling without giving him time to prepare an answer and put on a good face."

"You read my mind, boys. It's not very polite to drop in without phoning first, but this is one of those times when necessity trumps good manners. Besides," Bob smiled, "I confess I'm curious to find out what's behind all this. I think I'll strike while the iron's hot ..."

"... maybe not the best metaphor, sir," Kye grinned.

"Maybe so, Kyle," Bob chuckled. "What I meant is, I should probably go right away."

"Good luck, sir. We'll keep our fingers crossed."

<><> BOB & MIGUEL COMPARE NOTES <><>

On the short drive down to Jason's house by the Arroyo Seco, Bob tried to work out how he should approach the subject with Miguel, to produce the best result with the least damage or hurt feelings. He had rehearsed a whole script on what he would say, but he jettisoned it as soon as he walked through the gate and saw Miguel sitting morosely in the garden staring into space.

He looked up at Bob who said, "Miguel, I'm sorry to drop by without phoning first, and if you want me to leave just saw the word."

Miguel's face broke into a bright smile. "Don't you dare leave, buddy. I was sitting here feeling sorry for myself and just seeing you is like a tonic. Sit yourself down. Jason had to go to his fire station for an hour or two, and his boy Ben is about to bring out some beers."

Bob sat facing him. "Miguel, before anything else I want to make one thing clear. My coming here does not mean I'm taking sides between you and Zack. I've told everybody to avoid doing that – this thing is between you two and only you can solve it. I just came to see if there is anything practical I can do in the meantime."

Ben came running out with a six pack of beers, followed by, of all people, Eddie, holding the camera he had lent to Ben. Naturally, Eddie was the first one to speak ... and speak.

"Hello, sir, I'm glad you're here `cos you'll be the first to see the video Ben shot of Miguel and Jason doing their gym workout. And wow, it is so much more than a workout. He's got some terrific footage, way sexy ... you will not believe. This is gonna be a ratings hit with the boys when they see it."

"Hey, hey, slow down, Eddie," Bob interrupted, talking over him. "First of all, you are not to show that to anyone for now. You're right that it would create a sensation, but not the kind you mean. It would be like pouring gasoline on the fire when word gets around, especially to Zack."

Eddie looked crestfallen. "Oh, yeah, I see what you mean, sir." He brightened. "Never mind it'll give me a chance to edit it properly. And guess what, I'm gonna score some of my videos. That's a professional term in my business for adding background music, sir. The guys at Warner Studios have let me watch as they add in the music to scenes on Grady's movie. I learn fast, sir, and I wanna have a go myself.

"I mean, just imagine, sir, a hot scene like this one with dramatic music in the background. Hassan's helped me put together a whole studio in our basement, where I edit my videos and now add music. It's soundproof and Hassan's been great about getting soundboard equipment and stuff. It looks way professional, sir, you should visit. Like I said to Hassan ..."

He stopped abruptly. "Oops, talking too much, I can see from your face, sir. I know that `zip-it' expression – I see it all the time from other guys, and I can take a hint." Miming a zip, Eddie ran his fingers tips across pursed lips and turned a key at the end.

Ben said, "Hey dude, let's go inside and run it again and you can show me how you do it."

They turned to walk away and Ben looked over his shoulder and winked. He got a thumbs-up from Bob, who then twisted the top off a beer bottle, took a gulp and grinned at Miguel. "You gotta love the kid, all that energy and enthusiasm. Jamie said Eddie's way popular at the studio and, like he said, he learns fast. The boy has a great future as a cameraman or editor."

Miguel agreed. "I know, dude. I heard Hassan say how proud he was of him. For me, I could just sit back, close my eyes and let him talk all day. Takes my mind off other things."

"Ah, other things," Bob grinned. "I wondered when we'd get around to them. Like I said, Miguel before we were interrupted, I came to see if I could help in any way – like, maybe you needed someone to talk to?"

"And Bob, there's no one I'd rather talk to than you. I know you'll be impartial and not take sides." Miguel frowned. "It's just ... just that I'm kinda drifting, dude ... like I'm drowning." His eyes filled with tears as he let go with the sympathetic Bob.

Bob touched his arm. "Miguel, if it's any comfort, I know just what you're going through. I've been there so many times in the past with Randy. Let's see now – things seem to be unraveling and you don't know why ... the petty sniping about trivial nothings. Why is he yelling at me? Is it something I did or said that set him off? Has our love turned to hate?"

Miguel smiled ruefully. "That pretty much covers it, dude. You really have been there." "Let me ask you one basic thing, Miguel. Do you still love Zack?"

"Of course I do, Bob. I've been in love with the guy since that first night in a motel where I had sex with a guy for the first time in my life. My love for Zack hasn't changed. I'm damned if I know what has. Was it like that with you and Randy?"

"It was. And looking back I have a clearer picture about what happened. See, right from the start the passion we felt for each other was a shock. I mean, we were so different. There's me, the sophisticated senior vice-president of a finance company in posh Marin County, running away from a bad marriage. And Randy, a construction worker from the mean streets of West Texas living in a cheap motel and fucking the local barmaid several times a week.

"Of course, Randy felt that difference and for the first time the tough alpha- male felt intimidated, out of his depth. He had no idea what was going on – all he knew was he was scared I'd leave him. After a long while he got over that, but then – and here's the deal – as we settled down to a domestic routine something else worried him. Life became kinda placid, the sex became more routine, less urgent somehow, though still physically passionate."

"I hear you, Bob. I think that's kinda where we are. Haven't made love with Zack in two weeks. Thank god for my boy Finn – he's been great, still hot to trot. But I miss Zack in my bed."

"Well, Randy interpreted routine sex as me going cool on him, and once again that old bogeyman reared its head – Randy thought I was preparing to leave him. Unfortunately, that became a self-fulfilling prophesy. We split up – I went to one of the luxury bungalows at the Beverly Hills Hotel, and Randy went back to the same seedy motel room where we had first met. That separation was the worst two weeks of my life."

"Dude, are you saying Zack's afraid I'll leave him? Where'd he get that idea. I fucking love the guy. Hell, it was him threw me out, told me to get the hell out of his sight and go back to Jason."

"Miguel, we're not talking logic here. Zack and Randy are passionate men, they are ruled by their cocks, and rule with their fists. When Zack gets paranoid about you leaving him, don't look for logic. He becomes unglued."

"Damn," Miguel sighed. "So you and Randy ... how did you turn it around, dude?"

"As I recall we broke the routine. Obviously, we still loved each other, all appearances to the contrary, so we went away together and discovered that first spark all over again. We kind of eased into a second love affair, or a second phase anyway – more mature than the past, though no less passionate. Oh sure we still fight, like most couples, but we always know it'll pass, that we love each other so the basis of our relationship is secure."

Miguel sighed. "So you got any advice for me, Bob?"

"Only this. Don't sweat the big stuff, `cos in reality it's all small stuff. Take it one step at a time."

"Yeah, your right. The most immediate worry I have is getting Jason involved. What we did here together was probably wrong of me. But I felt so neglected and rejected by Zack that I need to be lusted after and admired. And hell, I needed hot sex.

"But I involved Jason in my troubles, and I'm afraid that me living here with him will enrage Zack even more. Jason is such a sweet guy and the last thing in the world I want is for Zack to come down here and take it out on him.

Bob smiled. "Ah, well there I can offer you a suggestion. You know Nate's new boys Noah and Vic. They want to live with Nate, and Chad and Adam have offered their guesthouse to them. It needs a lot of work and the boys have asked to move in right away and renovate it while they live there. Which means ... ta-da ... their apartment over the office will be empty – probably as soon as tomorrow. "It's a nice little place, great for a guy and his boy."

"Dude, thanks, it sure sounds like a solution – it would take the immediate pressure off. And it's in the tribe's compound too, so I would be with Finn, living separately from Zack but close by so he won't be having delusions about me fucking my brains out with Jason."

"Good, I'm glad you see it like that. I'll ask Nate to call you as soon as the apartment's empty. And don't worry. If Randy and I could get through all the bullshit we went through and come out the other side stronger than ever, so can you and Zack."

They stood up and Miguel pulled Bob into a long, warm hug. They both felt their dicks getting hard and pulled away. Miguel grinned, "Better not, buddy, that really would make the fur fly – both Randy and Zack storming down here – it'd be World War Three."

Bob chuckled. "The old saying goes, `better to make love, not war'. But if one leads to the other ... nah better not. Another time, maybe, once this is all settled."

"I'll take you up on that, old buddy."

<><> WILL RHUBARB PIE OFFER <><>

When Bob got back to the Boss House he found the twins with Will, still wearing his apron and chef's hat, having come straight from the kitchen. Kyle asked, "Everything work out OK, sir?"

"So far so good. Miguel and Finn will be moving into the apartment above the office tomorrow, as soon as Vic and Noah move out. The boys are dying to set up their home with Nate. Now we just have to get through this evening."

Will spoke up. "Sir, I had an idea about that. I called Darius to ask if they would be joining the main group for dinner, `cos we wanted the numbers. He said that Zack was in no mood to face everyone this evening so Zack, Darius and his boy Ryan will be having dinner in their apartment.

"I know Darius and Ryan are no great shakes as cooks, so I thought it would be kinda cool if I cooked dinner for them. I've finished the dinner prep here and I could rustle up something nourishing for those guys. I thought it would be kind of a gesture.

"I mean, you told us, sir, that we mustn't take sides but we should try to help in the background. So I thought, just cooking dinner or them wouldn't be taking sides or anything, it'd just be letting them know that we love everyone, no matter what." He stopped, and his freckled face blushed.

Bob smiled. "You seem to have thought everything out, William, haven't you? It's a very kind thought and does you credit. What do you think, twins?"

"It's a terrific idea," Kevin said. "We can certainly take care of dinner here as Will's done the prep, and I'm sure a dose of Will's home cooking would help improve the mood over there."

"That's why I love you guys," Bob said. "This is a perfect example of giving practical help wherever we can. So go for it, Will."

"Thank you, sir. And after dinner I would like to spend the night with my step-dad Seth in his house. He must be feeling a bit shook up and confused about all this. He would naturally side with Zack, them being fellow construction bosses and all, but sleeping with me and making love with me would calm him down ... keep him from getting hostile or anything."

Bob glanced at the twins with tears in his eyes. "Come here kiddo." He folded his arms gently round Will and kissed him. "Will, you're one in a million. The twins are lucky you're their boy. There, and now I've managed to knock your hat crooked."

"No worries, sir," Will grinned, pulling his hat straight over his shock of red hair. I'll go over there and tell Darius I'm coming, and talk about the menu. Something warm and comforting, I think. And maybe my rhubarb pie. That always goes down a treat and makes anyone feel happy."

<><> WHERE ARE ZACK & RANDY? <><>

"Rhubarb pie too?" Darius grinned after Will had told him and Ryan his plan. "It's great to see a friendly face up here, dude, and it'll be a big relief for me and Ryan not to have to cook dinner."

"And this one's not one of my catering gigs, Darius. This one's on the house." Will couldn't fail to notice the air of gloom in the apartment and was pleased to see Darius and Ryan smiling.

"I'll give you a hand, dude," Ryan said. "I'll be your kitchen assistant."

"Thanks Ryan. Good job I brought another apron and chef's hat with me. Where's Zack by the way? He will be back for dinner won't he?"

"He's still over at the construction site – been there all afternoon, though god knows what he's doing all on his own there on a Sunday."

Just then Bob came in and smiled, "Everything sorted out, is it, guys?"

"You betcha sir," Darius grinned. "Ryan and me were facing the horrible prospect of using our dubious kitchen skills to cook for Zack, but then the cavalry came to our rescue. Will here came in with his generous offer, so we're gonna be fine – well as far as food goes. As for the rest – who knows? You probably noticed, sir, that the sun ain't exactly shining too bright in this apartment."

"Not as bright as it usually does," Bob smiled. "Where is Zack, by the way?"

"I was just telling Will, he's been at his construction site all afternoon. He left shortly after that gargantuan row with Miguel I described to you. Boy that was ugly. He threw Miguel out of the house, then stomped out himself. Said he was going to the site and wanted to be left alone."

"And has anyone seen Randy lately? The twins said he went out but they didn't know where to."

"Sure, he came in here while you were down at Jason's, sir. He asked the same thing you just did – where's Zack? I told him and he left – presumably to go talk to him."

"Oh lord, just what I was afraid of. When those two tough guys get a few beers down them there's no knowing how it'll end. I just hope no bones are broken."

"Er, what are you gonna do, sir?"

Bob sighed. "Nothing, Darius. I'm going to take my own advice and not get involved. Only thing we can do is wait – and keep our fingers crossed.

<><> THE OLD WAREHOUSE <><>

As it turned out, Bob's gloomy predictions were only half right. As he said, `there's no knowing' what would happen. In fact Randy himself hadn't known what would happen as he drove to the construction site where Zack was boss.

Randy didn't bother himself with the mental gymnastics of not taking sides' no rush to judgement' `working through the issues' and all the rest. He went by gut instinct – some would say animal instinct – a man of spontaneous physical action.

All he knew now was that his buddy – a tough alpha-male like himself – was in trouble. Bob would have said the troubles were partly self-inflicted, but Randy had no time for shit like that. The only plan he had now was to drop by his own site and grab a sixpack from the fridge in his trailer office before heading over to Zack's.

When he got to the site it was, as expected, deserted, it being late Sunday afternoon. Randy knew where Zack would be. Next to the site there was big empty building that had been abandoned. It was like a huge shed with dirt floors and a dilapidated roof that let the rain in.

He made his way there, prepared to `beat some sense into Zack' as he had once said. But his tough mood softened when he saw Zack in the middle of the gloomy cavernous space, sitting on an upturned empty oil drum nursing a beer bottle, with several empties at his feet.

There were pools of water on the muddy floor, and the last rays of the setting sun broke through the gaps in the roof and wall slats and cast an eerie light on Zack's muscular black body and shaved head, adding to the melancholy mood. He was dressed as he always did for work – no shirt, black jeans and heavy work boots. He was hunched forward with his elbows on his knees staring morosely at the ground.

Hearing footsteps, he raised his head and growled. "Didn't you get the memo, man? I don't want company."

"Dude, memos in this outfit apply to everyone except me." Randy pulled up another empty oil drum, turned it bottom-up and sat facing his old buddy. He put the sixpack on the dirt floor. "Here, I brought supplies, but I'd say you've had enough judging by all these empties."

Zack's eyes blazed and he pointed threateningly at Randy with his bottle. "Listen, man. I don't want no asshole like you telling me what I can and can't do. If I wanna get stinking drunk that's my business. Just get out of my sight, 'cos I'm feeling just fine, never better."

"Not from where I'm sitting, dude. You're a fucking mess."

"Dammit man. Get it through that thick skull of yours before I slug you – I don't wanna fucking talk to you."

"I'm not asking you to, bro. Let me do the talking," Randy said, controlling his usual physical impulses in favor of talk. "See, man, I know exactly what you're going through. I've been there, dude, and back again." Randy paused to see Zack's reaction. He stared sullenly at the ground, then defiantly unscrewed the top off another beer bottle and took a slug.

Randy was relieved to see he didn't take the other kind of threatened slug and he pushed on. He was unaccustomed to working things out verbally – he left that to his therapist brother Doc Steve. But he knew better than to beat a buddy when he was already down, and talk was the only option left.

"Listen dude, I know just what you're feeling because your situation with Miguel is a mirror image of what I went through with Bob in our early years after we met. I was an itinerant construction working moving from job to job when by chance I met Bob sitting in that rundown bar. He was on the run from a failed marriage in fancy-shmancy Marin County – a top executive with a big finance firm, diplomas up the ass.

"To say I was outclassed is a major understatement. Usually, I wouldn't have had anything to do with a guy like that, but ... but this dude stirred strange new feelings in me. Me, who always got my rocks off fucking the blowsy barmaid Sheila. `Course I didn't know at the time that I was falling in love with him, but I did know I didn't wanna lose him. I'd fight tooth and nail to stop him leaving, even to tying him down – literally. I couldn't compete with fancy words, but I could with my fists. Sound familiar, dude?"

Zack stirred, didn't say a word, but at least he didn't get up and walk away. So Randy persisted. "So let's see here – and stop me if I'm wrong. You were this rough, tough black construction worker who met a guy drowning his sorrows in a bar, and you ended up in a seedy motel sucking his dick. Drunk in a bar – sucking a straight guy's dick in a motel – sound familiar?"

"You spend the next two years never getting him out of your mind, and then you meet again. And you know you're in love. Trouble is, you're still a construction worker, a black laborer with, as you said, dirt under your fingernails. And what is he? Oh, just a big executive chef in one of the fanciest hotels in the world, the Ritz fucking Carlton.

"But never mind. Pure lust kept you going for a long time. He was terrific in bed and you were a black stallion. That's where you were the undisputed boss, when you fucked him. Physically you were the ultimate male, with that magnificent fucking body and face, the big man on the construction site, a master with your fists, never lost a fight.

"But as I learned, Zack, class catches up with you. Sex is still great but it gets routine, and after sex you're still a construction worker and he's still a big executive chef. You start to wonder if he feels the difference, wonder how he puts up with a roughneck like you.

"Your mind starts to exaggerate the differences and you come up with the big one. You're black – that's the big problem. You've been put down by so many racists in your time and he's surely no different. You wonder if he's planning on leaving you. Yeah he must me, and that scares you. You start to resent him. You go cold on him, start sniping, picking fights ... stop having sex. Finally, the crunch comes and ..."

At last Zack raised his head and his eyes blazed. "Yeah, and what happens? He hightails it down to that fucking narcissist Jason and they have wild sex – a gym contest, body worship, bondage, and he fucks the fireman's ass. That's the man he really wants, a blond, tanned muscle-jock, a firefighter who everyone admires and praises. So I was right, he rejects the black laborer for the white hero – that's what he wanted all along. He saw me as this lowlife construction worker, fucking sweaty roughnecks in the dirt."

"In your fucking mind, dude. In your fucking paranoid mind. Did he ever say that to you?"

"He didn't need to. When he came back he flaunted it, confessed everything like he was proud of it. So I told him to get his racist fucking ass out of my sight and never come back. He went straight back down to the white boy he'd wanted all along and they're prob'ly fucking their brains out again right now. We've split up, man. I chucked him out and we've split up."

Randy shook his head. "Exactly what Bob and me did. He went to live in some fancy bungalow at the Beverly Hills Hotel, and the only place I could think of to go was that dingy room in the motel where we first met.

"And you know what? Those two weeks we spent apart were the worst two weeks of my fucking life. I kept jacking off thinking about him, lusting for him, hating him, loving him. And that's what you're about to go through now, buddy. Is that what you want?

"Not me, dude. I ain't gonna suffer over that asshole. He's gone, good riddance. Now I can get on with my life. And if he begs to come back, I'll fucking ..."

"You'll fucking what, man? You'll beat the crap out of him? Face it, man, the only weapons you got are your muscles, your fists, that menacing growl, that steel look in your eyes, and it ain't enough. You can't muscle your way through this one, stud. You're a basket case mentally, a victim, a victim of your own insecurity and paranoia.

"Zack, I love you like a brother, you know that, but you've let me down. When you put yourself down and say you ain't nothing but a cheap construction worker you're insulting me – `cos that's what I am, a shaggy roughneck in a sweaty tank and muddy jeans – and yeah, I got dirt under my fingernails.

"But here's the kicker, dude. That's what Bob loves about me. I finally realized that after all the pain I put him through. You don't have to be like Miguel, equal to him. You know the old phrase – opposites attract? Well, it's true. So for god's sake, man, forget all this racist' bullshit and this deranged fantasy that Miguel is dumping on you all the time. Get your fucking act together, dude. Cos right now you're acting like a fucking asshole."

"A fucking asshole, am I? You might as well call me a dumb shit-for-brains laborer, `cos that's what you're thinking. I should a' known you'd side with Miguel, dazzled by his looks, his body and the action-hero job he's got, like he dazzles everyone else. What chance does a lowlife like me have against that?"

Randy was getting angry. "Dude, you are really pissing me off. I have never heard so much bullshit pouring out of your mouth, like you're throwing up. Dammit, of course Miguel had sex with Jason – he sure wasn't getting any from you. He loves his boy Finn, sure, but a man like him also needs a man like you, and you threw him out."

"Look asshole," Zack roared, "I told you when you came in that I didn't want you and your fake fucking sympathy. So leave me the fuck alone before I throw you out – and you know I can."

"Oh yeah? OK try me – c'mon, stud. Let's see what you got."

<><> CATHARSIS <><>

Randy had lost his cool, but somewhere deep down he knew this is what they had been leading up to all along. They were both bare-knuckle fighters – the language of fists was the language they knew best. So the fight was on.

Rising to the challenge Zack roared, tossed his beer bottle clear across the room and lunged at Randy, knocking him to the ground. They grappled in the mud, rolling over and over, whaling with their fists, straining for the advantage. In the end Randy was kneeling over Zack, pinning him to the ground on his back, both of them smothered in mud.

"I knew I could take you," Randy panted. "Brute force is all you understand. Maybe you are that shit-for-brains dumbass after all, so I'll have to beat some sense into you."

"Fuck you, man," Zack roared. He bent his legs under Randy, pressed his boots against his chest and shoved with all his strength. Randy went flying, staggering back across the room and crashing against the wooden slats of the wall. Stunned, he slumped back heavily, arms hanging limply by his sides, and Zack was on him in seconds. He grabbed Randy's tank, yanked him forward and slammed the back of his hand across his face from side to side, ripping the tank clear off him."

All Zack's pent-up rage, fear and frustration now found expression in his fists. He stared not at Randy but at Miguel. In a fiery combination of lust, rivalry and retribution, the caveman had sprung from his lair, grabbed Miguel and was beating him into submission so he would never dare leave him.

Randy knew that a few more seconds of this and he would slump unconscious so, gathering his last shreds of strength, he raised a fist and slammed it in Zack's stomach. Zack howled in pain and it was his turn to reel backward and splash down in the mud. Randy stumbled forward and launched himself on him, but just as he fell forward, Zack rolled over on his side and Randy literally bit the dust as he crashed to the ground.

Both men lay in pain, their breath heaving – two brawny, bare-chested construction bosses, dragging themselves painfully through the mud, desperately trying to regain their strength and scattered wits. Zack recovered first and crawled on his belly across the ground through an oily pool of water. With a last massive effort he hauled himself up to his earlier position, kneeling over Randy, dripping wet, pinning his wrists to the ground.

Both panting heavily, too exhausted to move, their eyes locked. A weak grin came to Randy's mud-splashed face and he groaned, "What you need, bro, is a good fuck. Always works for me when I'm mad. Like you said, you're just this lowlife construction worker fucking a sweaty roughneck in the dirt who you just beat the crap out of.

"What if this was Miguel you had pinned down in the mud? What would you do to that gorgeous Hispanic hunk with the ass that belongs to you? Come on, man, teach him a lesson. Show him who's boss."

"Fuck you, asshole," Zack yelled. Newly empowered he ripped open Randy's jeans, then stood up and pulled the jeans down to his knees. He pulled out his own massive black rod and stroked it. "See this, stud? I am the boss – a construction boss, not just a fucking roughneck laborer. I'm the one who gives orders and guys obey. Even guys like you."

Zack dropped to his knees again and lubed his cock with muddy water. He pushed Randy's legs back, boots high in the air, jeans round his knees, and rammed his cock in his ass. It was a brutal thrust and Randy's howl echoed round the cavernous shed. He saw the gleam in Zack's gray eyes and realized this is what his buddy needed, a catharsis to purge the anger, doubts and fears that had been plaguing him.

He was reaffirming his authority and manly pride that had lately taken such a beating, and Randy sensed that Zack was looking down not at him but at Miguel as his shaft pistoned with brute force in the captive ass. He was purging his demons, making up for the weeks of no sex with his lover. His lover? Yeah, his lover. He looked down at the agonized face, and saw not Randy wincing in pain, but Miguel. The man he loved."

He slowed down and caressed the ravaged ass with his cock. "I don't wanna hurt you, man. I never meant to hurt you. I love you, dude ... I love you. I don't wanna lose you ... please."

Tears ran down Zack's chiseled ebony features and Randy said softly, "I love you buddy." Gazing up at Zack he felt a deeper love for his friend than ever before – love, compassion, respect, and the special affinity of two powerful alpha males, brothers under the skin. And Randy knew Zack's words were not for him – they were for Miguel.

Zack sighed, "Man, you feel good. I love you, man ... I'm sorry for all I said ... I love you ... please, I ...aaahh ..." With a final deep, heartbreaking sigh, tears streaming down his cheeks, Zack tensed and poured semen deep in Randy's ass.

After all the storm and fury there was sudden silence in the warehouse gloom, broken only by the sound of dripping water and the heaving breaths of two exhausted men. Overwhelmed, Zack fell forward into Randy's arms, his body heaving with wracking sobs. "I love him, Randy, I love the guy. I never stopped. I've been a damn fool. Help me, bro ... please help me."

<><> "I LOVE YOU, BRO" <><>

A few minutes later the two mud-streaked men were sitting side by side on the ground leaning against the wall, nursing their beers and their bruises. "Sorry about that, Randy, blubbing like a baby."

"Dude, will you stop putting yourself down. Sobbing ain't sissy, you know. Just shows a man has passionate feelings, and that's a good thing. I learned that from Bob."

"Seems you learned a bunch of stuff from your guy, Randy. Not me though – if I got troubles I can't sit and listen to a load of Kumbaya shit. Like my latest mess. Guys would tell me to go talk to Doc Steve. I got nothing against your brother or anything, and he's helped a bunch of guys. But not me. I couldn't ask him for help and sit on a couch while he tells me what to do."

"I hear you, buddy. First time I did that I ended up fucking Steve – and we ain't tried it since."

They laughed and took another hit of beer. Then Zack turned serious. "I gotta work stuff out for myself, bro, but I'm fucked if I know how to handle this. Everything you told me just now is true. All that stuff was in my own mind, my own paranoia. Especially all that crap about racism – total bullshit. Miguel never said anything like that and never thought it. No-one in the tribe ever has."

"Yeah, and if anyone ever did he'd get my fist in their face."

"Matter of fact, now I think back, Miguel always behaved like a gent. Only criticism I got from him was that I was talking crazy talk, and he was right. Er, tell me the truth, Randy. Do you think Miguel was ever planning to leave me?"

"There's that crazy talk again. man. Of course he wasn't. He fucking worships the ground you walk on. Will you get it through that thick skull? You're not a cheap laborer – you're part owner of our company, a successful construction company, and you helped build it. Miguel's proud to be your man, and he should be.

"Listen, dude, every couple hits a cold patch every now and again. They get on each other's nerves and bicker – usually about dumbass trivial stuff like leaving the top off the toothpaste. Usually it blows over, unless one of them sees too much into it and his paranoia feeds on itself."

"Ouch," Zack grinned. "OK, so now I'm starting to get my own head straight. But I'm damned if I know how to approach Miguel and start to patch things up. After all this I'd be too embarrassed to look him straight in the eye. Any suggestions, buddy?"

"Ah, I'm no shrink, Zack – I'm more fists than words. Huh, maybe if we had another fight I'd get some inspiration."

They grinned and there was a long silence as they focused on their beer. Finally Randy took a deep breath. "I guess ... I guess I do have a couple of ideas, take em or leave em."

"First, I'd make your peace with the other guys you live with – Darius and Ryan, and Pablo and his boy Tyler. I know you didn't mean to involve them, but I'm damn sure they were real shook up. I mean you and Darius are like brothers but he knew he couldn't say anything, could only stand by silently and watch. That's tough.

"And the young kids especially. They look up to you, dude, depend on you as the big boss, and shit like this scares them, makes them feel insecure. I'm told that tonight young Will has offered to go over to your place and cook dinner for you all. He's such a cool kid – says it's his way of showing you we love all of you, no matter what."

"I hear you, man. Yeah, I can do that ... make amends to them, calm their fears. Miguel himself, though, that's where I'm really lost."

"Yeah, and after all you said to him he won't be so quick to forgive. One good thing you'll be pleased to hear. Bob's been doing his subtle thing behind the scenes and the result is, Miguel and Finn will be moving out of Jason's house tomorrow and shacking up in the just-vacated apartment of those kids Noah and Vic. They're moving in with their man Nate.

"And on the subject of Jason, you've got absolutely no beef with him, dude. He was just doing his muscle flexing gym thing and Miguel had built up such a head of steam – no sex with you for two weeks – that he just had a harmless fuck-fest with him. Don't you dare go down there and `sort him out' OK?

"The only other thing I'll suggest is that you and Miguel go away together for a few days. Too many triggers around here to remind you of all the bad thoughts and words. You might even go fishing. There's a secluded lake up in the Angelus Forest, known only to a few of us, and Forest Ranger Pete. I've taken a rowboat up there a few times to sort things out with Bob. The place always works it's magic."

Just then they heard to door creak open and Bob came in cautiously. "Don't wanna interrupt you guys, but I was wondering ... you know, worried about ..."

"And here's your answer, buddy, Randy laughed, brushing the mud off himself and Zack, displaying their bruises and rubbing his own jaw. "No bones broken."

"So you, er, you talked?" Bob asked euphemistically.

"Yeah, we talked, and when that didn't work we had a knock-down-drag-out and that cleared the air. What you never realized, dude, is that fists can be more eloquent than words."

Bob grinned, "You're right, Randy, I'll never get my head around that one. It's a language reserved for wild men like you."

Zack chuckled. "You can say it, Bob – `lowlife construction workers fucking sweaty roughnecks in the mud." I've been hearing that a lot lately."

"Wouldn't dream of saying it, Zack," Bob grinned. "By the way, Randy may have told you that Will is cooking dinner for you all tonight. Dare I hope a minor celebration?"

"Kind of," Zack grinned, "after Randy knocked some sense into my thick head. I better get back over there. Randy ..." He pulled Randy into a tight man-hug. "You're a real pal. I love you my brother." He held his hand out to Bob who gave it a bone-crushing shake. Zack pulled away and rubbed his knuckles. "Still a bit sore, buddy. That man of yours has a steel jaw."

He laughed and left the shed. Randy threw his arm over Bob's shoulder as they walked to the door. "As for me, I got my ass ploughed. `Course I let Zack do it, he needed it bad. But I didn't bust my wad, and you know how a fight always makes me horny. So the upshot is ..."

"The upshot is that you gotta have payback ... and I'm the payback victim."

"Pretty much. And I won't even clean off the mud and sweat either. I told Zack, that's what you love about me."

"Well at least you got that right," Bob smiled, licking the dirt from his cheek.

<><> YOU SHOULD SEE THE OTHER GUY <><>

While Bob was willingly getting his ass reamed by a wild, shaggy-haired, mud-splattered construction worker, the other sweaty roughneck had just walked into his apartment to the relief of Darius and his boy Ryan. Pablo and Tyler were there too and, of course, their topic of conversation had been Randy and Zack and what was going on at the work-site.

The answer was obvious as soon as Zack came in – filthy, grinning, obviously post-fight."

Darius grinned. "You look pretty beat up, sir."

"Yeah, but you should see the other guy," Zack chuckled. "And his ass is raw too."

"Congratulations, sir," Pablo said. "Randy's a tough nut to crack."

"Just between you and me, guys, I have a feeling he let me win and fuck him. He knew I needed that and, boy, was he right."

The door opened and Will came in from the kitchen in his apron and chef's hat. "Oh, hello, sir. You survived then," he smiled impishly. "Dinner will be ready in half an hour. You, er, will have a shower and clean up before then, won't you?"

"Dude, I know you're a toughie and wouldn't allow me sit at table looking like this." Zack pulled off Will's hat, ruffled his shock of red hair and planted the hat back on. "Will, my boy, I wanna thank you for your offer to cook for us. It came at just the right time – these guys can't boil an egg. And you'll stay and eat with us, I hope."

"Thank you, sir, I will. I may have to leave early `cos I'm gonna spend the night with Seth."

"Good, I'm glad about that, Will. As a co-boss of ours, Seth's another guy who's been broken up about all this bullshit between Miguel and me. Being in bed with you, kiddo, will make his world come right again."

So Zack did shower, and he looked quite respectable again as dinner began and Will joined them. It was a big success, not exactly festive, as everyone was aware that their housemates Miguel and Finn were absent, eating dinner and spending the night with Jason and Ben.

But there was a general feeling that a corner had been turned. Zack was back to his usual confident self and on the road to eventual reconciliation – hopefully. They knew there was still a long way to go and they had their fingers crossed.

After dinner Will left and went next door to the waiting, welcoming arms of his step-dad Seth – another healing moment in the long process of smoothing the choppy waters that had rocked the tribe.

<><> A CHANCE ENCOUNTER <><>

That night Darius and Pablo slept with their boys, leaving Zack to sleep alone in the bed he had always shared with Miguel. Several times in his sleep Zack reached over to touch Miguel and woke with a start, feeling only empty space.

In the morning he woke early and decided to go straight to work, getting an early start, taking refuge in manual labor and catching up on work he had neglected. He pulled on his old black jeans and work boots and was crossing the lawn as Miguel came in through the gate.

They stopped in their tracks and stared at each other in embarrassed silence. To fill the void Miguel stammered, "I, er, came by to check on the, er, the apartment over the office – Vic and Noah's place."

"Yeah ... right."

"They're moving out," Miguel said in a rush. "I'm moving in with Finn. Bob set it up ..."

"Yeah, I heard ... er, I'm going to work ... early start."

"Sure ..." Miguel saw the bruises on Zack's bare chest and instinctively reached out to touch them. "What's this?" He quickly pulled his hand back, embarrassed by his own gesture of concern. "I gotta go ... those kids ... waiting for me."

"Yeah, I, er ..."

But Miguel had already disappeared into the office.

"Damn," Zack muttered under his breath as he walked out to his truck. "I should have ... he'll think I ... damn."

As he drove away his thoughts were still reeling with could haves and should haves. Why didn't I tell him about going fishing? Randy's idea ... I should have. Nah, would sound stupid ... too soon ... but when? How am I gonna ...?"

Worse still, the sight of Miguel had made his cock rock-hard in his jeans. He pounded his hands on the steering wheel. "Fuck ... Fuck!"

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 564

Hey guys, this is Rob Williams. I hope that chapter turned you on, and I welcome your comments and suggestions, which can be very helpful in planning future chapters. E-mail me in confidence at rw6789@aol.com.

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