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.
Various states and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing adult material'. It is up to the reader to research this subject, abiding by their own laws. The pages of this story contain adult material', intended for an `adult audience'. Bypass this warning at your own risk.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have, over the years, consider adding some support for `internet $pace'. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
^o^ Concluding remarks ~ reading this story could make you stiff or gooey, so I would suggest not reading it at work... just sayin'! :)
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FiRE iSLAND BiKiNiS ~ `MAkiNG WaRRioRs' 21 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
^o^
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Homer, having eavesdropped on Nash and Jay, finding out the wheelchair could not fit through the door, saw a need and addressed it. He had turned the air conditioning down real low, because the only way he could fix the doorway, which meant removing the molding for now. A longer term project, he needed to address it later. Hot air would be coming into the house faster than the unit could cool it. It also prompted him to keep cool, by removing his shirt, which he often did. Matter of fact, most of the time, someone happening upon Homer, would find him without a shirt more times than covering up his lovely muscular bod!
"What's all the racket?" Nash appears, Jay behind him, having finished up the tour of the bottom floor.
Without giving himself away, listening in where his ears should not have been earlier, he eyes up Jay's chair, "Seems to me, looking at it, that chair seems too wide for this door, so I thought maybe Jay could use a little extra room, gliding through?"
Wise, Jay kept it to himself, about keeping his voice muted when saying something he didn't want repeated, changed the subject, being polite, "That's so nice of you."
Never with an unkind word towards Homer, Nash says, "That's Homer!"
Knowing his brother can be the same, probably the kindest of persons he knows, Jay blurts out, "You and my brother... two of a kind!" Then he realizes an absence, "Hey, where did Jare go?"
Homer, in between the beats of his hammer, "He said something about an interview at Kermit's Nook, whatever that means?"
Difference of opinion, Jay says, "It's not called Kermit's Nook anymore. Just plain `Nook'."
Jared had briefly told Homer about acquiring the coffee shop, but Homer didn't bring it up on account of he himself had joked about the word, `nookie' and associating it with the name of the shop, which had the two doing more than some innocent lip-locking, "Oh, I see."
Nash hadn't even realized it himself, "Your brother owns Kermit's... I mean the Nook? When did this happen?"
"Recently," Jay tells, going into detail how it happened. In the middle of his story, Nash used sign language to tell Jay there was too much noise to follow, both excusing themselves.
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Avery McFadden was very busy this summer, which he hoped to be, with his little cart, moving around from house to house, cleaning from top to bottom. Only thing he didn't clean were pools. There were pool boys for that, some of which he would stop his own chores of vacuuming or dusty, introducing himself and asking a pool cleaner if it were okay to take a swim. It's how the 18-year old got to know people, guys on the island, hoping to eventually find a nicer place to sack out, other than the small room he shared with 3 other dudes.
One such house, belonging to Dirk and what seemed to pan out, as Jay's former residence, when Avery showed up to clean, found yellow tape clear around the house, closing off the alleyway access.
There, winding up the investigation, Ian Collins, who has seen Avery with his cart, rolling around the streets, "I've seen you and your," he called it, "outfit, but never got your name?"
Having dreamed of opening a business, some kind of business, which would put some money in his college fund, Avery had based his business on something already established on the mainland, "My card," Avery introduces himself, placing it in Ian's hand.
"Avery. Nice name," Ian smiles at the lad, whom obviously dressed light for working, tank top, shorts, sneakers without socks.
Having recognized the dude, in uniform, in the distance as he came towards the dwelling, in the process of checking him out, Avery hints, "You're nice too, officer."
Many clients on the island, Avery has met all kinds, which gives one a sense of perspective. For a small interval of time the two stood there, gazing at each other, eye to eye, smiling.
"Soon as the detectives wind up their investigation, which should be another ten minutes or so, you can go in and get to work," Ian says without breaking eye contact.
"Sure," Avery says, "but maybe I'll get a bite to eat," without thinking, runs his sentence on, "have you had lunch yet?"
"Lunch," Ian has a feeling he's going to go hungry this afternoon, "like, what's that?" he laughs.
"I could pick up something and drop it off to you on my way back?"
Ian was already liking the ginger-red hair, wildly shaped above Avery's adorable face, "Works for me," he goes to get his wallet out.
"No, I've got it," Avery says.
Ready to insist, Ian changes his mind midstream, "Fine. I'll pay for dinner."
"Dinner?" Avery was surprised, everything moving so fast it caused a blur of the mind.
Not realizing how fast he was going, Ian could have been pulled over for speeding, "Uh, yeah, I did say dinner, didn't I?"
Thinking Ian was pulling the plug on him, not in the buttplug sense, but bailout, "I'd like that."
On returning with a hoagie, rushed at the thought of hoping Ian hadn't wound up the investigation.
Ian, witnessing the cleanup of yellow tape, had dragged the cart of tools `round back.
At first, Avery's heart leapt, thinking Ian had vacated the scene, naturally reacts, "Whew, I was hoping you were still here."
He would have waited anyway, but Ian used as an excuse, hands on the cart, "I took the liberty of dragging your cart around back," smiles, finding reason, "so no one would steal them."
Shrugging his shoulders, Avery says, "Then I'd have to come down to the police station and report it missing?"
"I would feel responsible," Ian grins.
With all the yellow tape rolled up and missing, the two walk down the alleyway, Ian offering to carry the bag of sandwiches, Avery nosy, "So, what happened to Dirk?"
Ian had to explain the house no longer belonged to Dirk, instead to Jay Evans.
"Evans? Name sounds familiar," they share a poolside table.
Ian could care less about the Evans family name, watching Avery get comfortable, stripping off his tank top, but tries not losing his cool, "They own quite a few parcels of real estate on Fire Island. The older brother, Jared, owns Jay's Surf Shop, Warrior One and has recently purchased Kermit's Nook, which is now called just `The Nook'. The brothers also own 2 marine stores, off the island."
New to the island, for approximately 3 weeks, Avery often heard people refer to `off the island', rather than naming where something was, pertaining to elsewhere, curious to know, "They live here?"
"The younger brother, Jay, he's in a wheelchair, surfing accident. Dirk's place had been designed for his mother, with a similar condition. It was perfect for Jay, except..."
Sitting, his ginger trail all wrinkled up, Avery sits up, "Except?"
He knew he wasn't supposed to discuss the crime scene. Sensing concern in Avery's voice, "Nothing happened to anyone, serious that is, but still we have to keep the place off limits."
Avery then wonders, "Oh, so I can't go in and clean the place up then?"
Ian sat there, chewing, staring, wondering, when he swallowed, how he was going to get himself out of this one! Rather than catch himself in a big lie, "Oh, did I say you could go in and clean?"
He could have forgiven Ian, if he only told the truth, but right now Avery thought the officer was being totally cute, goes off the wall with his next thought, "Hot out here in the sun. Your shirt is all sweated up. You should have taken it off when I ditched mine," he bites into his sandwich, which made him shut up!
Knowing there was no time limit on when he had to be back to the precinct, calling in and saying he was going to end his shift with lunch, something unusual for Ian, letting it go. Not this time, not with lunch being brought to him by a hot delivery boy, "Don't mind if I do!"
Whacked out of his gourd, the 20-year old housecleaner just chewed and observed every inch of Ian's bod, the opening at the chest, down the middle, the pull, which lodged Ian's shirt from the tuck of his pants, fanning it back over shoulders...
Which made Ian flirt, "You and me should go to the gym sometime," Avery sipped his ice tea.
"I've been dying to sign up at Warrior One," Ian smiles brightly.
"I imagine it's big bucks, a luxury for me, until I finish off 2 more years of college," Avery says, popping the last hefty bite of sandwich into his mouth.
"Does cleaning houses pay that much?" Ian asks, fitting his shirt uniform over the shoulders of the chair he is sitting in.
"The tips are good," and a ploy, to make sure he and Ian are on the same page, "and the clientele `very nice!'"
Knowing where this was going, or went, Ian asks, "Hmm, should have you come over and cleaned my messy bungalow!"
Avery jumps at it, "You live in a house?"
"Small house," Ian says, "living room, kitchen, den, bath, small attic and 1 bedroom. You can reach out the side window and touch the house next door!"
Already having said it, Avery gripes, "Better than shacking up with 3 guys in a 2 bedroom."
Checking the situation out himself, Ian inquires, "2 beds in each bedroom?"
Instead of working himself `out' with hints, Avery says, "No fun being gay, with a straight room mate!"
Faking his stoopidness, Ian says, "Oh, your room mate is gay?!"
Having raveled his used hoagie wrapper up in a small ball, Avery makes Ian's chest his target, "You know what I mean!"
If Ian hadn't gotten it by now, he might as well just quit. Picking up the crunched up ball, he picks it up out of the chair, where it has become corralled in by thighs and slight bulge, hurling it back, "I know. Just testing your patience!"
Tossing it back, Ian didn't allow the balled up paper hit Avery's pectorals, targeting lower.
"You could have hurt me, you know?" Avery blames.
"Really?" Ian glances to Avery's crotch, then back up, "You're that sensitive to the touch?"
Playing right along, Avery says, "I'm not going to answer that. If you want to know, you'll have to find out for yourself. Still hungry?" he sticks his tongue out.
"No, but I see you are!" Ian wouldn't allow Avery to get the upper edge.
Standing, he set Ian off guard. Sneakers already off, all Avery had to do is drop his shorts, before eyeing up the pool.
Unlike the well-dressed cop, there was nothing left to shuck, which sent Avery running and jumping in the pool.
Ian jumps out of his chair, affected by Avery's tidal wave, "Oh shit, Avery!"
Like a submarine, checking out its prey, Avery motorboats towards the edge, popping up his periscope, "You said you didn't have to be back at work anyway?"
`True', Ian thought. If he had, he would have to make up some wild story of how his pants got wet, instead evening up the score!"
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"There, that should do it," Homer says, nailing the frame of the door back together, after whittling down the inside.
"I can't believe you worked on that all afternoon for me?" Jay says.
Like he had a crush, Homer tells Jay, "And the master of the house?"
"You're not my slave, Homer," Nash says, "but when you have a moment, can you order out for some pizza for the three of us?"
Homer smiled, saying, "Thanks for the invite, but don't you and your friend want to spend time together?"
Sound of the bell, it plucked Homer's attention from the boys, though he was a little more conservative of his tone, than if Jay wasn't there, Nash saying when Homer leaves to answer the front door, "Normally, he would be an old grump."
"Who? Sweet Homer?" Jay smiles, like he was flirting with the 44-year old muscular man.
"Sometimes some guys will ring the bell out of spite, just to get Homer. That's okay. He gets even. He'll see where some of the surf bums arrange their stuff on the beach. While they're out surfing some waves, Homer will go out and take their stuff and place it like a hundred feet from where it was. Then he stands, looking over the back fence, watching the surfers go crazy, thinking someone stole their stuff. You have to be there. It's really funny. Part of the fun is watching Homer react to his pranking."
Jay could see, from all angles, there were special bonds between Nash and Homer.
"For a change," Homer returns, another guy trailing.
Recognizing the other, Jay says, "Done with your interviews already, Jare?"
"Wasn't really an interview, more figuring out how to differentiate between management and the others who are going to work there. Maybe you've heard," Jared kneels, taking the conversation to Jay's level, "when Kermit left, the others who worked there left also?"
Jay's head wagging back and forth was enough to know his thoughts.
Finding out about his fellow worker at Westside Market, Nash asks, "Terry, he took the job as manager?"
Turning around, rather than stand up and put himself above his brother's level, Jared sits on the floor, answering, "No. Terry has decided to stay at the market, where he will be in place as manager."
It's one piece of gossip which hadn't filtered through Homer's channels, "Westside Market? You own that too?"
Redundant at this point, Jared cuts right through, saying to Nash, "I hope you two get along?"
Nash loved that response, on needles and pins since all this buying out and moving around of employees began to take form, "Of course! Terry and me, we're like brothers!"
Jay couldn't deny it was good news, for Nash, knowing how `delicious' Terry is!
Not leaving his story unfinished, Jared says, "You know Karl Loft?"
How could Jay, not, knowing Karl since he was a young teen, "Who?"
Knowing he was getting a snow job from his brother, Jared says, "I've decided to move Karl from assistant manager, to manager, but don't say anything if you see him, because I haven't told him yet."
"Uh-oh," Jay sits there with his thoughts.
"This Karl," Homer treads lightly, "isn't going to like it? I mean, what's the difference between manager and assistant manager?"
Jared replies, "Salary-wise, there is a difference, but hourly, you're there from opening to closing most times, responsible for everything that goes on there..."
Jay jumps in, "Like if the bagels get burnt or you run out of coffee..."
"In reality," Jared tells it like it is, "a manager is praised when things are going right, but..."
Homer pokes into their business, "Dammed if I do and dammed if I don't!"
"That's the gist of it," Jared leaves his eyes on Homer, standing there, like he's holding up the arch between rooms, arms crossed over lovely pecs.
"Oh!" He straightens up, snapping a finger, "Almost forgot. What do you like on your pizza, Jared?"
Jared wanted to say, `you', but deviated to, "Anything except something which could swim away!"
"In other words," Jay says, "hold the anchovies for the moron!"
"Is there anything else you don't like, Jared?"
Nash loved watching Homer forget about house matters for the moment and do a little flirting. When Jared couldn't give a decisive answer, what he wanted on his pizza, Homer drew him into the lair of the kitchen, saying he better think fast because he was making the call. There was also talk, Homer hoping there was a certain delivery boy on call tonight!
Jay and Nash headed for the family room, same place Jared made his call from. However, soon it didn't look like the same room.
"All you have to do is pick this up and press a button and `voila'!"
Almost like seeing a hot, hairy naked dude, perhaps not as stunning, Jay's eyes light up, jaw dropping, "Wow, that's so awesome!"
Nash knew it would impress, a panel on the wall moving, exposing a huge flat screen, "And you should see what it can do!"
Jay loved it, all the channels you could get, plus a cam hook up, whereas a person could watch a surfing tournament, happening outdoors on the beach next door, right from the comfort of the long leather sofa.
About to praise Nash for his magical deeds, he hears something, "You got a dog?"
"No. Why?"
Hearing a dog bark again, all Jay can think of is Joseph, "The doorbell's gonna ring!"
It did, Nash saying, "What're you, psychic?"
"Nah. Just a fortune teller!"
Well, Jay was correct, that was Thor's voice, but not attached to Joseph's gruff manner of speaking.
One of the islanders Homer well knew, Jared as well welcomed Ian into the home. The unfamiliar face, Ian was responsible for the introductions, "And this is my friend, Avery McFadden."
Jay divided his time between giving Thor hugs and the hot number walking in with Ian, not which Ian could not claim the title either!
Luring the couple into the kitchen, Homer invites, "We've got pizza on the way and if we're both lucky," Jared finds Homer and Ian on good social terms, "our favorite pizza boy will be handling the goods!"
Left in the dark, Jared asks Avery, "Do you think we should be jealous or wait to see how ugly he is?"
Cutting up, which made Jared see, Avery easy-going, "Who cares if he's ugly, as long as he's got a big dick!"
Standing next to Avery, in the kitchen, Jared takes the 20-year old's can of beer, "Ready for number two?"
Comfortable with his surroundings, getting along mighty fine with the others, Avery says, "Why not!"
Avery, stood rather comfortable with the way Ian and Homer were getting along. Standing next to Jared for a short time, he felt some good vibes, regarding the incredibly handsome beer-go-for, saying, "Thanks," popping the top.
Feeling the heat of the kitchen, even so the gas wasn't flaring under any pots, Homer, already stripped shirtless, slowly encouraged Ian to do the same, unbuttoning the officer's shirt for him!
"So much for relationships!" Avery exclaims.
"Oh," Jared almost chokes on his sip, "you two are..."
"Not really. We just met this afternoon. We were on our way to get some food, when we ran into someone at Kermit's Nook..."
Jared cuts in, "The Nook."
"Huh?"
"It's called the Nook now. I own it, you know?"
He hadn't gotten that far yet, Avery saying, "That's what Ian says, says you're buying up a lot of businesses on the island."
"Not by choice. More from circumstances, either prime real estate being sold, or already established businesses, which in my opinion have a better chance of survival, if guided in the right direction," Jared gets technical.
"You're amazing," Avery sips, looking over the top of his can, locking eyes with Jared.
Mixed reaction, Jared smiles, says, "I bet you are too!"
He wanted to `go there', but relaxed his emotions, even though his nuts were telling him otherwise, derailing the onset of what could develop into something steamy, "Ian found out from the manager where you were at the moment and here we are."
It's not which Jared did not like or care to have Thor around, just he could not swing it, a career, business, having to take care of a dog and what to do with the canine while Jay was away during daylight hours, but right now, more than glad they owned one, "Jay was really missing Thor. Thanks for bringing him back."
"No sweat," Avery says.
Speaking of `sweat', Homer boldly asks, "Hey, when are you guys going to catch up?"
Right in the same space for a duration of at least ten minutes, Jared is shocked, "Ian?"
Sassy, Ian replies, of standing there in his briefs, "Well, it's not like I've got to report back to the precinct or anything!"
Avery, seeing an in, lifts his tank top off overhead, "If ya can't beatem, joinem!"
Not allowing 7 years difference in age keep himself from diving right in, Jared, whom had gone to the interview at The Nook fully suited up, "Fine, but if you didn't notice, I've got more than twice as many clothes on as you guys?"
Complaints bore on listening ears, Avery says, "Nothing which I can't handle!"
Like a jealous husband, Homer steps between, "Oh no you don't... you're not going and stealing my boyfriend away from me!"
Jared was just as shocked as anyone else could be, having known Homer for about a day, "I was wondering what we were calling it," not which he had any reservations about.
Cheerfully, walking across the kitchen, a few feet and standing next to Ian, stealing his can beer, Avery says, "I better step out of the way if I don't want to get gunned down!"
"You mean, like I did this afternoon?"
No one was paying attention, Homer slowly stripping Jared, a kiss here and there in between each article of clothing. Avery and Ian, they were making their own little love-fest, Ian with his back to the counter, Avery bowling him over.
Normally, having connections, whomever Homer requested to deliver pizza, promising a big tip, was the one who showed up. Not tonight though!
Ringing of the bell, Homer, who had gotten down to Jared's pants, was just unbuckling the belt, says, "Oh geez, I forgot... I can't go to the door like this?"
"Why not?" Jared asks, looking down between them. "I thought you would be okay answering the door with a big bulge?"
Second ring, Homer licked his lips, not wanting this pizza boy to get away. He convinces Jared, instead of combing through the clothing on the kitchen floor, "You pay and I'll pay you back later. Just hurry!"
What could Jared do, Homer escorting Jared to the front door, a little pushy, in haste, in hope of not allowing the hot Italian delivery dude to vanish.
Opening the door, Jared was expecting a blockbuster guy, put up by Homer, as tall, dark, handsome, "Sean? What are you doing here?"
Sean, one and the same, who attended business at Warrior One, had felt sorry for Tim. Tim, mild, meek and shy, had taken on the pizza delivery job on account of Sean telling him it would help pull him out of his shell, give him a more extroverted approach to life. Sean could do that magic with guys. Like business, aggressive at both, Tim fell for it, hook, line and sinker, only he was scared to make his first delivery, so begged Sean to come along with him.
As if walking into Warrior One, Sean does the same, pushing right past Jared, "Hey, nice place you've got here. This the new place you're building?"
Acknowledging Tim, "Hey there," Jared helps take the six boxes of pizza, wondering if there were six guys behind them, invited to the party.
"Hi," Tim says, "I'm your delivery boy. You owe me..."
Pushing himself in, holding 3 of the boxes, Sean finds his way into the kitchen. Immediately seeing Avery and Ian profusely making out, "Whoa, my kind of party!"
A little disappointed, having to take Irish' over Italian', Homer says, "Here, let me take those for you."
By the time Jared and Tim make it to the kitchen, Jared has explained he was not sure, but this may be a temporary living situation for himself and it was sure, Jay would be staying here, possibly longer.
"Jay's here?" Tim asked, hoping to dodge the orgy in the kitchen, which he could see, two guys over by the counter, one sitting up on it, the other dude giving a blowjob.
Sean, Homer had his hands all over the 21-year old, saying how much he loved the furry pecs. An instant turn around, Sean pulls rank, slapping Homer on the ass.
"Oh boy," Jared knew where this was going, right down `Joseph's alley'!
Suddenly he was all alone, with Tim and felt awkward, because they were a mismatch, least of what could be said.
"Uh, Jay's in the living room with Nash, watching a movie, if you're interested?"
Not giving Tim much of a choice, Jared hands the lad a pizza box, telling him he would be along later with drinks.
Managing to get Sean's stripped down to his briefs, looking over his shoulder, Homer says, "Oh, Jared. I was just saying, how Sean might like seeing my bungalow out back?"
Hours ago, it seemed like Homer might be a nice guy to get to know, but right now Jared was having strong differences of opinion, "Uh, I think I'll pass, but you two go along," he meant on their way, to whatever they were going to do by their lonesome selves.
A one night stand was a one night stand and to Sean, he went with the flow. After all, Tim had promised to share the tip with him, especially when heard how much Antonio was going to make off of this one delivery.
Like he was running the show, being his dominant self, Sean whacks Avery, who he has never had the pleasure meeting, on the ass!
"Shit!" Ian exclaims, Avery pulling off.
"Dammit, guy," Avery calls Sean, not having met him, "you almost made me bite weenie!"
"Get over it," Sean replies, seemingly uncaring. "We're headed out back. Wanna come?"
Without waiting for the two to reply, Sean looks across the room, "Coming boss?"
"Nah. I'll pass. You go ahead," Jared replies.
What seemed like a nice night at home with Homer, turned into a disappointing evening. Yet, he could sit it out with Jay and the guys, which Jared proceeded to do, when Nash come looking for the drinks.
"Jay is not supposed to have alcohol," Jared tells him.
Smiling, for two reasons, Nash notices Jared wearing a tie without a shirt and the fact, "No problem. Jay is asleep. Timmy and me, we're watching the movie."
"Maybe I should put him to bed," Jared suggests.
"I've got it. Besides, Thor is right next to him. He'll be okay."
"Oh," Jared says solemnly, like for once in a long time, totally with nothing to do. "Then maybe I'll head into town for a bite to eat."
Nash knew, plenty of pizza sitting on the counter, but kind of having the feeling Jared wanted to find his own way tonight, "Have a good time."
Before he did, Jared asked if it were okay to rummage through Jay's belongings for a shirt and shorts, which he did. It was much easier getting out of the fortress, than coming in and soon Jared was out of the road. Sun still shining down the road, he thought, "Why not?"
Taking a right hand turn, he wound up removing his, Jay's, flip flops and hoofing it barefoot. Right away he's wincing, the hot sand baking the soles of his feet, dropping the sandals and feeding feet back in.
Looking up, Jared sees, halfway from the end of Surf Rock Road to where waves crashed ashore, the back of someone he knew. Perhaps bad timing, it's been a month or so since he's seen his favorite bartender from HOODWINK'd, Timofey Barrow.
Tagging Timofey's shoulder, Jared turns to face him, "Timofey, long time, no see!"
Right away Jared knows he's made a royal screwup. Timofey doesn't have a beard, though he could have grown one!
"I'm so sorry. I thought you were my friend," Jared apologizes, looking upon the Indian fellow.
Well, it could have been Timofey, spending every day time second on the beach, working on his tan and picking up boys to meet later on at the popular gay destination.
"That is okay," the stranger says. "Many think I am a Bollywood actor!"
Jared was glad the dude was giggling, instead of decking him, "Yeah, I can see the resemblance."
Knowing a pickup line, the Indian dude, standing with arms across his middle, still facing the breathtaking view, blows Jared's cover, "Which one do I remind you of?"
Getting out of it, Jared fabricates, "You know, the tall one, about your height, high cheek bones, deep set eyes," travels down a bit further, now the arms are dropped, "and," mimicking with one hand, "all this scruffy stuff," he meant the light grazing of hair over the chest, stripe fanning out over some defined abs, the bellyhole.
A little smile, glint in his eyes, the tall dude asks, "Have you ever seen a Bollywood film?"
Confessing, Jared says, "Not really, but I know there are some," he wanted the man to think he was half-intelligent. Not sure if he should go or stay, Jared chooses, "Well, I'm sorry to bother you. I was just out to get something to eat and thought you were my friend."
People packing it in, leaving the beach, the dude doesn't flinch a muscle, "Have you ever stood and watched the sun go down?"
In reality? Jared wanted to hang, but wasn't sure the dude was even his `type', first being gay for starters, "Several times, though not lately."
"You should leave some time every night to enjoy the peacefulness of nature."
Flashback, Jared remembers something Pastor Mark had said one Sunday, repeating it, "Well, it's not like I don't stop and smell the roses?"
Having walked back, Jared positions himself next to the gazer.
"That is good advice too. So, how is it you are too busy to even enjoy the beautiful ocean air?"
"Business, taking care of my brother, um business?" Is all Jared can think of, business occupying most of his time when he hasn't been taking care of Jay. Of course, he left out personal quality time. Jared didn't think sucking and fucking between males would be of much interest to a straight guy!
Then, abruptly the guy turns to Jared, sticks out his hand, "Hello. I am Yashir."
"Jared Evans," he was so used to the full name, on account of business.
"Ah-h-h," Yashir sighs, like smelling a homemade apple pie in the breeze, "Jesse's partner?"
Heightened anxiety, over meeting a possibly straight guy, wanting him to be gay, because he looked hot, plus all the jibber-jabber over sunsets and ocean air, Jared feels sudden relief, grabbing up Yashir's hand more readily, "You know Jesse?"
Part of the Japanese Surf Team, now defunct, Yashir was their business manager, which he informs Jared, adding, "Jesse has offered me a job. I would be a fool not to take it."
Something Yashir was not being frank about, was the day Jesse sprung it on him, way after hours, in the deserted locker room. Pinned against a locker, Yashir allowed the situation to progress, but then remembered he wasn't into fast sex!
At first confused, why he hadn't known about it, Jared remembers giving part ownership to Jesse. A new facet of his business affairs, Jared knew it would take awhile figuring things out.
Finding out how things could go, Jared says, "Of course. Why not?" Other than this, he didn't know what else to followup with.
"Jesse did offer me a place to stay, but I would rather find a place of my own. Is there such a thing as cheap rent on Fire Island?"
Of course Jared did. All you had to do is date the right guy and rent could be very cheap. Though, next best thing, "Have you eaten..." Jared realizes it's way past dinner hour, "lately?"
Yashir could have, if he allowed Jesse to get his hands on him, but more interested in something longer term than a quickie in the lockerroom, "I haven't," he spills, "since about lunch time, except the protein bar I stole off of the counter at Warrior One this afternoon." Caught, or thought so, "Oh my god, I can't believe I am saying this to the owner!"
"Well, tell you what, Yashir," Jared places a hand on a forearm, "if you have dinner with me, I'll forget you mentioned it!"
He knew Jesse was gay, Tim more than hanging out with the boss, which also was surprised at why Jesse was trying to kiss him, probably wanting to do more, but not sure about the big boss, comes right out with, "You might not want to be seen with me in town."
Knowing where this was going, having heard the line before, Jared says, "Oh dread... don't tell me you're gay?!"
"I see it is a problem," Yashir says, being very cordial.
"Would be," Jared paces himself, "a big, big problem, except people who know me, know I'm gay. So, what's the problem?" he elevates his voice, like the punch line of a joke!
Smiling, the whole beard seemed to bend with the lips, Yashir saying, "Where were you going for dinner?"
Jared wasn't exactly dressed for Korbeau's!
"Are you up for Italian, Asian or Seafood?"
He wasn't `up' right now, but Yashir was giving it time, "Italian would be fine."
Turning their backs on the sun, Jared says, "I wish I could offer you Indian cuisine, but I don't think there is a restaurant on the island."
"There isn't," Yashir says, "but if you want, sometime I will cook us an Indian meal, with all the trimmings."
Well, at least Jared sensed this maybe not a one night get together, "Sounds good!"
Walking back up the road, Jared points out Nash McNear's house and gets talking about Jay. By the time they were at the intersection, veering off Surf Rock Road, the conversation had switched to Yashir's history.
29-years old, Yashir had seen a lot of the world. A graduate of Princeton University, aspiring to be a writer, it is how he found a way to leave the unhappy family scene, writing as the vehicle. It was by luck, journeying to Japan, he hooked up with a Japanese guy, a member of the Japanese Surf Team. Convincing himself, he could pull it off at managing them, he was quite successful, the team journeying through the Malay archipelago and Australia.
"It was my fault the team is broke."
"How so?"
"I really believed they could go up against surfers from South America and the United States, but I was wrong. In my mind I had visions of them winning competitions, accruing medals and money, but I was wrong. I should have never had filled their heads with such dreams."
Jared rationalizes, "But did any of them give you a hard time over it? Are they still? Do they hate you for it?"
"No. Matter of fact it surprised me, that they happy of the outcome. They are not surfing for a team, but most of them like the idea of teaching surfing. Jesse, he boosted their morale, made the surfing students think the team are professionals."
Wisely, Jared says, as his hand flops towards Yashir's left arm, "Sometimes things happen for a reason. Whatever you thought you did, as being something wrong, in their eyes they see you did something right. I bet not a single one of them think any less of you now."
"I suppose."
Stopping in front of Island Pizzeria, Jared says, "I know the prices are steep, but the deep dish pie is out of this world."
Looking upon Jared, Yashir was thinking, `not only the pie!'
Walking through the door, glancing at the split menu hanging on the front window, complete with pricing, "Maybe this is not a good idea."
"Oh come on," Jared thought the $18 price for a deep dish price would knock Yashir's socks off, "besides, it's customary for a long-time resident of the island to buy a guest his first meal."
A little tug the other way, out the exit, Yashir says, "This is not my first meal."
Tug o'war going in Jared's favor, "It is with me!"
Even though Yashir is 6'4, 3 inches taller than Jared, sporting a muscled frame, he gets dragged inside!
Fortunately, knowing a lot of people on the island, big problems turn into little one.
"Uh, sorry, Jared," Rosario Verselli, greets them head on, "but no shirt..."
"No service," Jared completes.
Rosario worked two jobs, at the pizzeria and Sean's father's pool cleaning service. More a 33/67% split, he was slowly working his way out of the pool business and hoping someday to own a pizzeria of his own.
"I see," Jared fixes a button on Rosario's shirt, closing up the hairy chest by one notch, "well, you must have more than this one shirt, in case you should happen to spill something on it?"
Knowing where Jared was taking this, Rosario, who was really good friends with Jay, says, "Are you in a hurry?"
"My stomach's growling," Jared replies.
Again, the beard twisted accordingly with Yashir's smile showing how humored he was, "You have quite a way with people."
Joking, no thinking he might be scaring Yashir away, "Wait till later... you'll find out!"
It did come up, with talking about everything under the sun, if Jared didn't mind, it didn't work out to `dating', but in general how he would feel having a relationship with an Indian man, did it bother him...
"You're Indian?" it's like Jared noticed for the first time. "Wow, I just noticed!"
It made Yashir smile, more than the line in his dark brown beard, white teeth glistening through.
"Why? Do you have a problem with me?"
Yashir says, "Nothing, other than you're drop dead gorgeous?"
"Is that going to be a problem?" Jared replies.
"Not for me," Yashir justifies, "but for someone else, when they see me with you..."
"Ah, so this isn't a one night..." he wanted to use the word `date', but falls back on, "get together?"
From Princeton, NJ, when living at home, Yashir didn't have a problem with money. When his parents wanted him home, Yashir feeling obligated to the team, he fell out of sorts with them. Back on US turf, there still remained this rift, which also put a drain on Yashir's bank account. It wasn't about keeping up with the Evans', but a general feel of keeping his head above water, where his finances were concerned. It wasn't cheap living on the island, unless a person wanted to shack up with a bunch of guys in one room. It's something he didn't want to do. Touring with the team was one thing, but on a permanent basis, it didn't float with Yashir. And to correct this, he needed more money than a salary could draw in, that is if he wanted to eat!
"I would like it to be more, but to put it frankly, indirectly you are my boss and..."
"Oh really? Did I hire you?"
"No. Not really," Yashir replies.
"Then Jesse is your boss, not me. What else?" Jared felt there was more baggage.
"I don't have much savings. I'm barely getting by as it is."
"Just what is it Jesse has you doing?" Jared asks, having not gotten a clear picture, talking about everything else.
"Managing the team, but not surfing. More, I keep track of them, monitor their time on the job and making sure they are doing their job."
Concerned with a person and their place in society, Jared dwells on, "And you have a masters in writing?"
"I hope, before I'm too much older, did I mention I am 29?"
Jared doesn't remember. Having traveled far in finding out about each other, "You might have mentioned?"
"Regardless, I am hoping I can do some serious work with my talent before I am out of my thirties!"
He had a good attitude, according to Jared, despite becoming a black sheep of the family, for a petty thing like being gay. Thinking on it, he spots a familiar face, "I think I might have something for you. Excuse me," Jared gets up.
Watching, Yashir sees Jared walk over to a table, where a single man sits, interrupting the reading of his menu. Jared shakes the guy's hand, upon which he drops his menu and... snagged', Yashir just waves a friendly hello.' Then, after more talk, Jared returns, the man following.
"Yashir, this is Jarrod Harrison..."
Introductions, Jared had invited Jarrod to join them. He figured Jarrod would slide in the booth next to him, but no, he slaps his thigh up against Yashir!
Leading the way, Jared says, "Jarrod has his own sign business, but in the summer is involved in the summer theatre productions."
"You're an actor?" Yashir asks.
"That's what they tell me," Jarrod acts reserved.
Not wasting any time, Jared fills Yashir in, "Jarrod says they are not sure the theatre program is going to happen this summer, because they are short of a director."
It didn't take a rocket scientist to see where this rocket was going, Yashir saying, "So you want me?"
"Doesn't pay anything, but whomever the director was in the past, there's a room at the church, if you haven't made other reservations," which Jarrod slips and says, "unless he's staying with you, Jared?"
It's one thing Jared hadn't mentioned, what was assumed, Yashir `his boyfriend' and that they were living together, "Uh, no," he clues Jarrod in, "In fact, we just met."
Oh goody,' Jarrod immediately thought, open season'.
Thoughts like that dried up for the moment, the deep dish placed in front of them.
Entering the Island Pizza restaurant, Kenan Fitzhenry had just stepped off the ferry and smelling what he thought was garlic, waifing out of the entrance, figured he would give the eatery a try. After all, if he planned on settling down on the Fire Island, he would familiarize himself with the businesses.
A graduate student of William Paterson University, a degree in financial business, minor in business administration, he didn't look at it as starting at the top, but working his way up. At 23-year old, there was plenty of time to be had, establishing himself.
Walking in the door, he was conscious of patrons ahead of him, but something caught his eye, saying, to himself, "It can't be!"
A cute dude in front of him on line, apparently having a few beers before entering the place, turns around, "What did you have in mind?"
He could have been mistaken as a hood out of some bad neighborhood in Newark and even though he was from trendy Montclair, Kenan often play on that premise, going off ghetto on a dude, "See that pole over there?" he meant the one keeping the ceiling from falling on the floor.
"Yeah," the dude says half-dazed, "I see it."
Harshly Kenan says, so only the dude can hear, "Yo' betta turn round and mind yo fuckin' business fore it `comes a permanent fixture up yo' ass!"
Watching the dude excuse himself, rushing pass the line, to say he had to pee bad, it made Kenan cackle with laughter.
Though not the only one to try to buy the African-American man dinner, at least the next one was more somber, "I like how you handled that."
Now, this type of gay man appealed to Kenan, immediately turning around, minding his own business, which causes him to counter, "Thanks."
They smiled at each other and that was that. Then, continuing on his quest, Kenan steps out of line, walks over to a certain table and announces, "Hey, remember me, Jarrod?"
Of course, without seeing the name flashed up on a screen, neither could tell whom Kenan meant!
Jared looked at him, like the famous pickup line, `Have we met?' showing on his face, but question was quickly dispelled, Jarrod standing, saying, "He-ey, how are you my friend?"
"Good," Kenan puts on a bright smile, highlighting his handlebar stache, the goatee rounding out the chin, "I was wondering if it were you?"
"It's me!" the 34-year old replies, bright smile on his face as he once more looks upon the handsome face.
He didn't know what Yashir was thinking, but Jared wondered how close Jarrod and his mystery man were, arm around him, as he jovially talks him up.
"This man is a one-in-million guy," he goes on to praise and tell the story. "Was hanging a sign up at the Metropolitan Opera this spring... I mean," his disposition changes to perturbed, "what a day for my sidekick to call out sick. Anyhow," Jarrod once again sweetens up, "I was about to give up balancing the sign on one ladder, while lifting the other side and along comes my guardian angel!"
Arm around Kenan's back, extended up and over the tee shirted shoulder, Jarrod pats it with a heavy hand, "It's not everyone in the city who would stop what they're doing and offer to give a hand."
Shoving aside his vanity, Kenan gives excuse, "Most people are in a hurry. They've got places to go and things to do."
Once during Jarrod's speech of praise, the listeners exchange glances and wiggling of eyebrows, but then pay attention, so as not to draw attention to themselves.
"I'll tell you," Jarrod turns back to being the bossy boss, "I was ready to fire my guy," he meant the worker who called out, "and hire this man on the spot."
Joking, Kenan says, "I should have pressed him for a job. Sorry I didn't now." Looking at all of this from a psychological viewpoint, not once Jarrod bringing up his name, Kenan thinks he's forgotten it, gets the sign man off the hook, introducing, "I'm Kenan Fitzhenry. Nice to meet both of you," he goes from handshake to handshake, getting bright smiles from both Jared and Yashir.
"Join us," Jarrod offers, with delayed reaction, "if it's alright with you and Yashir," he directs to Jared.
"Fine with me," Jared says, thinking there's only one vacant seat!"
While settling down, Jarrod sighed with relief, thanking his lucky stars Kenan had introduced himself. It's so embarrassing introducing someone, with a lapse of memory, especially because Kenan took a big chunk out of his day, to help him hang the sign, turning down money or lunch that day. It irked Jarrod afterwards, not getting a phone number!
For Jared and Yashir, they had exhausted the personal nature of discussion, walking from Surf Rock Road to town. There might have been more to discuss with Jarrod, but the welcoming of Kenan opened up a new dimension for discussion, Jared signaling for an extra plate.
It wasn't the type of restaurant where you helped yourself, as Jared did the first time in, getting his chops busted, nicely, the waiter wanting to wait on him hand and foot. Therefore, he warns, almost talking in Kenan's ear, "Um, I know this sounds kind of rude, but don't help yourself or else the waiter will think you're trying to steal part of his tip!"
Smiling, liking the easy-going nature, Kenan didn't understand, but let it go, "If you way so."
For a short second they stare at each other, until the waiter did come back, toting a plate. As predicted, Kenan sat there, like holding his napkin on his lap and allowed the waiter to do all the work, shoveling a slice of deep dish onto his plate, asking, "And what will you have to drink?"
Yashir gains attention, "The sangria is very good," he chugs the last little bit down.
"Sangria it is," Kenan takes the suggestion.
"Make that two," Yashir tells the waiter.
"No," Jarrod buts in, holding up 3 fingers, "make it 3," looks to Jared, "or 4?"
"What the heck," Jared says, guzzling his down.
From Montclair, NJ, they find out Kenan has graduated from William Patterson University with a business degree, him adding, "But what I hope to accomplish from it, I'm not entirely sure."
"A job in signing?" Jarrod was hopeful.
That day he was in Manhattan, holding the sign up for Jarrod, not which he was selling himself, but his kindness, Kenan had hoped he would be offered something more in return, after the short hour he had met and known Jarrod.
He wanted to jump at the opportunity, but wanted to let Jarrod down slowly, "Tell you," he neatly wipes his stache, "if I don't find anything I might hit you up for a job!"
From there, it was a guessing game, Yashir talking about being Indian, but an American citizen, from Princeton, a degree from the university, same town he grew up in and then what usually follows, the major leading into new territory.
From his perspective, Jared sat there taking it all in. Looking around the circle, the other three, he was enjoying their company. Also he keyed in on different aspects, as if conducting and interviewing, feeling out the two `jobless' persons.
It was then, when time stands still, except for the last sips of sangria, Jared throws out on the table, "Well," he takes a deep breath, "I'll tell you the situation I'm in, up to more than my knees..."
He tells how the upheaval of business, buying up real estate on the island, in hopes to revive some businesses, or beef up the sales of others, like the Westside Market, Jared unloads, "As it happens when you take over a business, it's necessary to hire new staff, especially when the old employer pulls the rug out from under the feet of his employees. I am now the proud owner of The Nook coffee shop, but only a manager to reopen the place. However," Jared takes another deep breath, "the person I set in place to manage, informed me the other day he plans on retiring and moving to Florida with his partner. Um, you can like see the writing on the wall here?"
Knowing exactly where Jared was taking this, Yashir stares across the table, "Anything we can do?"
Jared's head slacks to the side, like `dah'.
"Yeah, I'd be happy with any job. I could wash dishes and work my way up. I'm not fussy."
Silent for most of the time, after introductions, Jarrod could imagine working his way up Kenan's bod!
"That's ridiculous," Jared says, "With a degree in business and who knows whatever else, I was thinking more like starting at the top, for you?"
Jarrod jokes, "Hold out for the big money!"
Yashir is not much better, "How much does a job like that pay?"
Never thinking of slighting an employee, Jared could even be accused of being over generous, "Pay? Who says you're going to get paid for it?"
Using himself as a scapegoat, Kenan announces, "In case you haven't heard, slavery's dead?"
"Oh, I wasn't," Jared gets hyper over Kenan's remark.
"I know," Kenan smiles, showing Jared it didn't phase him!
Carrying on with business, they didn't go over figures, but only ballpark ideas of how many hats the manager had to wear, capping off the assistant manager's duties.
Leaving, after two and a half pitchers of sangria under their belts, they had sorted things out.
"I can't believe I have a job and it dropped right in my lap," Kenan says, walking away from the restaurant with Jarrod.
"I hope it didn't hurt anything!"
Kenan laughs at Jarrod's joke and little woozy from the alcohol content, blurts out, "Like, you would know?" he laughs.
Saying just what he did the day he was helped, hanging the sign, Jarrod says, "Are you accusing me of checking out your cock and balls when we were hanging the sign?"
Laughing, Kenan says, "Why not? You don't think I wasn't checking you out, `boss'!"
The two getting along well, Jarrod spots the line over at HOODWINK'd, "Hey, it's only ten o'clock. You like to dance?"
"I don't know. The line is kind of long," Kenan laments.
Taking Kenan's shoulders from behind, Jarrod points his chin towards the club, "See that sign? Guess who hung it?"
"You?" Kenan looks to his left, Jarrod's face right there.
Though, nothing happened, other than Jarrod grabbing up Kenan's hand and dragging him across the thoroughfare, "Forget the sign. I'm ready for some dancin'!"
% >From early evening, on, the Jay-Nash-Tim-Trio hung out. Jay had a few moments to himself, Nash leading a guided tour of the house, which took the two upstairs. Lingering, instead of making Jay jealous, ideas of what the two could up to danced in his head faster than a dozen sugarplum fairies. Thinking out loud, gazing out into the pitch black night, some glow of perhaps a fire blazing on the beach, he utters, tapping a finger to the lips, in deep thought, "I wonder who's naked on top of who?"
Just the though made for entertainment, thinking right about now, after Tim has finished licking Nash's joystick. Flipped positions, Nash kneeling, Tim's legs up on shoulders, Nash's spit coating his own cock, ready to impale...
Then again, maybe that's not how it goes, Jay reverses the roles, casting Nash out of the top role and right after Tim's done firming up Nash's cock, he has Tim traveling up Nash's bod. Ass first sitting on Nash's navel, he keeps going, with the promise that soon Nash will be tasting his rigid stick...
"No, that's not how it's going to go," Jay is thoroughly convinced Nash is man on top, Tim a bottom.
"What was that, Jay?"
Jay's heart was almost in his throat, thinking his thoughts could be heard out loud, "Nothing... nothing at all."
"Guess what Jay?" Tim asks, both now standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Based on intense thinking, Jay says, "You fucked Nash?" Then, thinking he has it wrong, speculates, "Or Nash, you topped Tim?"
Tim and Nash look at each other and burst out laughing!
All serious-like, Jay asks, "What's so funny?"
First, Tim completes his thought, "Me and Nash grew up, reading the same comic books."
"Oh," Jay gets clammy, thinking his mind was on the wrong side of thinking.
Proving they were right, Nash says, the two having walked over to where Jay slouched on the sofa, "I bet Tim here," Nash slaps Tim in the bread-basket, "that, if we stayed upstairs too long, going through comic books, you would think we were getting it on!"
"Um," Jay has a slick way of presenting it, "like, what did you wager?"
"Nothing," Tim replies.
Nash says, "I just said, `I bet', but didn't bet anything."
"Too bad, because you could've had Tim on his knees!"
"What did I tell you?" Nash laughs, turning to Tim.
Not that he was confessing to anything, Tim throws in, "Too bad you didn't wager something!"
Both having flopped down on each side of Jay, the more vocal of the two, Nash, says, "Even if I did, I would tell Tim it's off. I would feel funny doing something, like, behind your back?"
"Why not?" Jay replies, still in an upbeat mood, "I know the front doesn't work. Who knows what I would feel from the rear!"
Nash laughs.
Tim doesn't, acting like chief medical officer, asks, "Has anyone ever tried... I mean, since your accident?"
Both flanking Jay's sides, his bod corralled in, Nash's arm over Jay's shoulder, mainly from keeping his chest from hinging over, he leans over Jay's front, jokes as he slaps Tim on the far-reaching pec, "I think we have a volunteer, Jay!"
Physically removing Nash's hand, plying it off his slightly-haired left chest, Tim retaliates, "No way! If you want to rape Jay's ass, that's your business, Nash!"
Removing his hand and bod from crossing Jay's front, Nash's mouth forms a perfect little `o', which made it not tough to says, "Oh-h-h, I wasn't thinking that. I swear, Jay!"
Realizing what he's said, perhaps some themes from those gay-boy comics they were looking at upstairs, had rubbed off on Tim, "Me too, I mean," he changes from apologizing to Jay, eyes set on Nash, "I wish I had never lay eyes on your comic books!"
Difference of opinion, Jay says, "But I thought you said you had the same ones?" he poses the question to Tim, almost in his face space.
"I do. The Superman and Batman ones, but not the..." Tim is now embarrassed to mention the gay-boy titles.
Rather than elaborate on themes, which gay guys already had played over in their minds, Nash tells Jay, "Just the usual gay magazine stuff, only written up as a comic book. You know, guys kissing, sucking..."
"Fucking and other stuff," Tim doesn't get into stuff like a ginger-dude lying in a tub, a dark-haired guy tinkling on him!
Rather than condemn them, Jay says, "Well next time you guys feel like getting horny, can you think of your pal getting in on the action?" He didn't wait for reaction, "So, what're we going to do? Sit here all night?"
"What do you want to do?" Nash asks.
"Um," Jay says, forgetting the immediate past, "go stalk some dudes at HOODWINK'd?"
%
"The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... spread happiness!" T. Chase McPhee... circa 2005, year I wrote my first story for `NifTy'!
^ o ^
Copyright 2014 T. Chase McPhee
`MAkiNG WaRRioRs', and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.