The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
BeaR GaRDeN 01 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Told you it wouldn't work!"
Barry had seen this scam played over and over again, one guy with a ticket, his date' claiming he must've dropped his ticket. He can remember being their age. As could be the case, yeah, it could be a genuine scam, but another scenario, maybe the kid not truly having the funds to afford the twenty-five dollar cover charge to pass through the gate to the Bear Garden!'
Sometimes Barry could create his own scam, saying, "Hey wait a minute!"
The duo leaves, turning their backs to the entrance, one of the two deciding whether to approach the free-standing box office to get a refund or arrive at a mutual agreement to meetup later, after he's done partying.
Shouting to the couple who have just retreated, draws attention to the rest of the crowd, their attention carried away from where Barry stands.
It buys him enough time to cast one of the small carnival-sized' tickets to the ground. Five seconds prior, Barry had analyzed the Target vs. Abercrombie' couple and made a swift decision, one able to afford the stiff twenty-five dollar cover charge, the other thinking it would break his bank. It wasn't the only factor, the twenty-eight year old ticket collector-bouncer-bartender thinking the scammer was kind of `hot', something not every scam artist could project down deep into his soul and farther!
The two standing before Barry, the bearcub bends over and picks the ticket up, which he let seesaw down to the ground minutes ago. Staring in the lad's eyes, he asks, "This your ticket?"
Surprise filling the dude's face, he stands there more stunned.
"Yeah, that's his ticket," the guy's date replies, i.d.-ing him, "isn't it Thomas?"
Thomas stood there numb for a moment.
Barry reiterates, this time with a happy smirk, "Well is it or isn't it, `Thomas'?" He also moves the ticket towards Thomas' hand.
He could have said yes, his thumb and index finger plucking the ticket from Barry's hand and almost made the attempt, instead, "No. It's not my ticket."
Right behind him on line, stood Ian McLacklan, who had been to the Bear Garden like millions of evenings, opening his big mouth, "You should let him in for telling the truth, Barry!"
"Ian?"
"What?" he puts it to Barry, hoping a good outcome from his honest opinion.
"Wanna shut the fuck up?"
"Uh, yeah, sure," Ian replies, smiling as an afterthought. It wasn't a total failure, at least getting a smile ripped from Thomas' face. Ian, good at projecting a smile, returned the gesture.
At the same time, Jason, his hormones racing, says, "Fuck this. I don't care what your cousin says, I'm not wasting my time with a loser like you!" Putting his ticket in Barry's hand, Jason strips his shirt, stuffs the collar in the back of his pants and moves past the gate.
"What was that about?" Barry asks.
"My cousin Bobby. Him and me go to the same school, but his friend from out of town was visiting, so tried setting us up on a date on account of..." Thomas stopped dead right there in his tracks, ready to offer more information than necessary, which regarded his problem of being a socially-deficient guy.
Barry was about to talk, Ian butting in again, "What a fuckin' creep!"
However, Barry couldn't deny Ian's opinion, "I'll say."
Seeing the line developing into a double-digit cue, Barry worked his way through the length of it.
He allowed Thomas to stand right inside the gate and knew something was up, because even though Ian had handed Barry a ticket, the reddish-brown haired dude hung around.
"Where's your date?" Thomas asks the twenty year old.
Ian replies with a chuckle, "Don't have one. I never do."
Thomas asks, "So you come here to pick up guys?"
It was sort of the truth, Ian's rounded face replying, "Um, maybe." Then, probably out of Thomas being totally candid about the ticket, it drives Ian on to say, "Tell you the truth, most guys find me a little too weird."
Because Thomas wasn't `processed' yet, he stood there in his Mossimo tee shirt, while Ian had stripped and parked his tee shirt down the back of his shorts.
He was smart, Thomas replying, "I don't really know you, but would guess you're not any more weirder than I am!"
Ian could tell. Thomas was not only picking up on his personality, but his eyes were shopping for clues. "You seem as normal as any other guy I know," and before ending his statement, "except that little shit who dumped you at the door!"
"Little?" Thomas replied. He then realizes, his stomach almost filled out with a six pack, Ian probably not able to achieve the same status as a result of his family genes. "I'm sorry. It was a horrible thing for me to say."
Then Ian says exactly what Thomas had realized, "Hey, not all of us have the six-pack' gene!" As he said it, he wondered what lurked under Thomas' shirt, licked his lips, in a dreamy state of guessing, because Thomas didn't look at all like he' did in a tee shirt. On the contrary, when Ian put his tee shirt on, and he had to always buy it a size or two larger, it hung a little too much on his shoulders, but his stomach took up the slack around the middle.
"I wasn't trying to put myself on a pedestal?" Thomas replies, a modest smile on his face.
"You know," Ian projects an honest reaction, "I know this is going to sound like a pick-up line, but I've never met anybody honest like you?"
"Pick-up line?" Thomas laughs out line, "Like I would know?"
Ian says, "Don't tell me you've never been in a gay club before?"
A snide chuckle, Thomas replies, "No, but I've been to school dances, danced with girls, but the whole time wished it were the football or swim team guys. Looking at some hot guy took my mind off of having to dance with a girl."
Ian was cute, rolling his eyes as he says, "You gotta get out more."
"Oh, now that I've graduated high school, I intend on doing so, but I wasn't sure how to go about it. That's why Bobby set me up with his friend."
"Your cousin, he gay?"
"Bobby? Nah. He's straight as they come, but he's probably the most supportive person in my life right now."
There was much Ian didn't know, could not comprehend, but felt Thomas a cool guy, interesting and wanting to know his history. Walking over to Barry, Ian tags him on the arm and says, "Hey Barry, you forget Thomas and me are standing here?"
"What the fuck? I thought you two went in already?"
Thomas questions, "I don't have a ticket?"
Barry picks any ticket in his hand and says, "I got your ticket right here. Now will you two get the hell outta my sight?"
As they `got the hell outta' Barry's sight, Thomas says, "I think he likes me!"
Not refuting it, even though Ian had an interest himself, he agrees, "I think so!"
Right about to step into the sea of bears, cubs, otters and others, Thomas' hand feels up the tale of his tee shirt, "I would probably stick out if I kept this on, huh?"
Shy? Sure, but not timid about removing his shirt, Thomas had Ian hold his glasses while he used both hands to make light work of taking it off.
"Wow!" Ian replied, like he had seen Elizabeth Taylor's diamond collection, "you're awesome, Thomas!"
It made Thomas smile, like he was proud. Often he would get the same reaction from guys, of all ages, at the gym. He responds as he rubs his hand over his hairy sixpack, "Thanks. I get the same story from other guys."
Ian figured it an obligation to educate the `club-deficient' dude, saying, "You know, there's a lot of guys who will think nothing of touching other guys?"
Way ahead of Ian, Thomas didn't need to wait for his high IQ to kick in, replying in a cocky manner, "I wonder if you're going to be the first?"
A middle of the road college student, Ian smiles, saying as he `touches', "Frankly, Thomas, you aren't my first, but here goes."
His palm extending, going for the rippled abs, suddenly it's slapped away, Ian responding, "Owch! That hurt Barry!"
Barry laughs, humorously replying, "Oo-oh did big Barry hurt poor widdle Ian's hand?"
"I'll hurt more than that," Ian swiftly moves his hand inside the opened front of Barry's leather vest, with intentions of tweaking a nip!
"Oh no you don't," Barry joked. "Maybe I wasn't wise to you the first time, but..." remembering Thomas standing there, "Do you know this guy gave me two purple nurples?"
Seeing the two, like a slapstick comedy act, Thomas smiles and hands it back to Barry, "Did it feel good?"
Ian, after high-fiving Thomas, answers for the big-belly-bear, "Of course he did! Got ol'Barry here nice and hard, didn't it?"
"Ian?"
"Yeah?" Ian replies.
"Shut the fuck up?"
"Say please?" Ian replies.
Thomas jokes, "You two get along good. You should be married!"
Barry says of it, "Oh yeah, right. Married in the beginning of the week and divorced by Saturday!"
"He's good in bed, though."
"Um, Ian?" Barry says slow and cunningly, placing an arm over Ian's shoulders, then slowly draws it tightly around his neck.
"What?" Then, Ian realizing Barry's arm getting him in a choke hold, not which Ian feels in any real danger, "Um, Barry? Your arm?"
"Do you have to go and blab our private affairs to every living stranger?" Barry says, more like a warning.
"Thomas is not a stranger. Are you Thomas?" Ian asks.
Some other patrons began getting worried, because they didn't realize how good friends Ian and Barry had become. Seeing they were getting looks, Barry released his fake choke hold and instead of turning on Ian, asks, "Ian, he gets out of line now and then and has to be put back in his place."
Then Barry excuses himself, reporting to the gate of the fenced in beer garden, only to have to turn down dudes, because the entry limit has been reached. He felt real bad too, because there were two hot cubs he hadn't seen before, but gave them some inside info, "Hey you two!"
"Us?" One asks.
"I don't give this tip to everybody, but as soon as I let two out, you could be let in, if you hang around?"
He didn't hear one say to the other, "He `likes' us!"
But the other cub replies, "Sure. We'll hang. For about how long?"
Lenient to some, when the others trying to gain entry left, Barry unlatches the ketch on the gate, replying, "Why, I just let two out a few minutes ago!"
As they handed Barry tickets, one, a stunning five-foot-something and a nice girth, looking to be early twenties, says to Barry, "Anytime tonight you get hard up for a blowjob, I'm your man!"
"Mm-mm," Barry toyed with the guy and his notion. He joked, "Mind if I reciprocate?"
His date tells Barry, "Be careful. You never know where Nicolai's mouth has been!"
`Nicholai?' Barry thought. How perfect to have a name affixed to the blond cub! He smiles as he bids them a good time to night, "And if you get tired of your date..."
However, the blond made some motions with his hands that the music was already too loud and his lips dictated, `no comprendo!'
"So, where..." Barry turned to the pair he just left, but found the spot vacant, "did we leave off?" More than disappointed, he missed his chance at seeing what was under Thomas' shirt, "Shit!" Searching the crowd just turned up a wall of flesh. "Shit!"
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Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee
`BeaR GaRDeN' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.