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 ~ `beLLyhOLe ALeRt!' 06 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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A month ago, Jared had it posted at both J&J Marine stores, a notice, seeking out applicants for new retail and training opportunities, with room for advancement, on Fire Island. It was to their advantage they relocate, but not a requirement.
To accommodate the new staff, Jared had covered bases with lodging arrangements, setting aside a block of rooms at Korbeau's, offering boarding at a reduced rate, a temporary measure until the applicant found their own space.
What he found out, there were other opportunities available, other than transitioning from Korbeau's to a more permanent residency.
For instance, the surfer kissing Tim, 25-year old Sven Glen, had been one of those applicants. Of his own volition, Sven made the move from J&J Marine and his hometown of affluent Rumson, New Jersey, for an opportunity to integrate with the Fire Island community. When asked, Sven said it was a dream come true, being where he could freely meld with the gay community, yet stay in the closet to his family.
Jared counseled him, it not being the greatest of ideas, keeping `in the closet', that eventually it would have to come out.
Since, Sven has come to terms with that, at well as conjuring up some courage to share with his family, amazed how they took it so well. With discovery came the idea of how stupidly, he could have come out in his teen years!
However, right now, Sven, who had worked just as long and hard as Nash, at having transferred from J&J to Westside Marketplace, laughed at the face of being tired from an all-nighter. Moving, tearing apart, taking a hammer to some wooden shelves and turning the decrepit fixture down to rubble, it was hard, grueling work.
Yet, bright and early the next morning, a couple of hours away from quitting time, Sven was on his way to the waves.
Delayed, he came across Tim, standing at the gate.
First to hit him, the 20-year old's profile, standing straight against the fence, showed the contour of his bod, from the top of his head to his sneakers. Would have been nice if the dude didn't have that signature tee shirt on. Though Sven could partially admire the hint of treasure trail, when Tim turned around. Peeping, Sven spies on Tim, shirt lifting a little, stuck to the rough surface of the gate!
He remembers Tim's first reaction, upon stopping dead in front of him, board separating the two men, saying a simple, "Hey," coupled with a flashy smile.
"Hey," Tim said, like he didn't mean it, not accustomed to being picked up, if that what this was?
"Convenient place to live?"
"Why's that?"
Nodding towards the ocean, Sven says, "You've got nature's playground right in your backyard!"
It made Tim smile, like this dude was talking in riddle's, only to throw in a downer, "I live here temporarily."
He hated like hell to run out on Tim, but the waves weren't getting any bigger. "Um, want to walk me down to the beach?"
It seemed kind of stupid, in Tim's opinion, walking to the end of fence, which also coincided with being the end of Surf Rock Road, pet name for Surf Walk Lane, but he was cute, "Okay."
Three times Tim had brought up the fact, not which he intended on getting rid of Sven, but for his own benefit, the waves seemed to be subsiding.
Sven, he swatted Tim's concern away, "Eh, I can always come back tomorrow or later."
Then, they both heard the clash of boards, turning their attention to the commotion up the road, away from the boulders at the ocean side, left by some glacier eons ago.
Hero for the moment, Sven parks his board against the fence, the two rushing towards an incident in the making, "Same thing happened to me at the store I used to work at in Jersey. A fisher slipped on a lure that happened to be on the floor. Went right down on his ass, but fortunately only came out of the accident with a twisted ankle. I watched the paramedics." Running sentence into sentence, like a 54-car train wreck, it matched their footsteps, until Sven and Tim were on the scene, "You don't move him, waiting until help arrives. When they do, you back off and leave them to their work."
Looking across to the first one, who had deflected his board away from him, Jay says, "Doesn't look like your boards got damaged much. Superficial scrapes and a couple of nicks."
Of course, if the injuries looked far worse, Sven and Tim not there to assist, Jay would have offered his own expertise, instead of talking up `surfing.'
"They should be okay," Jay adds.
Surf dude looks up at Jay, "You surf?" Then realizing his total stupefying remark, "Or did?"
A year ago, Jay would react sorely to his surfing accident, but now has put it behind him for the most part, jokingly, "That's how I got in this chair," he slams down on the arms with his palms, creating a slapping sound.
Like carefully choosing his path, the surf dude straddles in a squat position over to Jay, all the while saying, "Oh, I'm so sorry that I...mentioned it?"
From Peter's words of wisdom, Jay draws from it his own comfort zone, "I've come to terms with it. Shit happens. We've got to bury it and move on. Besides," not which he's thought about the whole scope it, Jay renders, "I've got a lot going for me now."
Then suddenly, like getting attacked in a dark alley by a mugger, two arms are thrown around his shoulder, Joseph bending over to hug him, "Oh my God, like I heard the call come, saying Surf Walk Lane and I immediately thought of you!"
He could tell Joseph had overextended himself, probably ran all the way, with the labored breathing, "I'm fine, but this dude...what's your name?"
Before Jay could be given a name, Tim cuts in, "You work for Pinto, right? You were at the gym, fixing the lockers?"
"That's right," he stands, stares at Tim, like he was trying to remember something."
Shrugging his shoulders, Tim says, "I came in, to shower. Remember?"
"I'd like to," he thinks, especially with Tim partially toweled at the time!
Displaying his ability to learn and memorize, Tim reveals, "You're Miguel, and your coworker is Doug. Right?"
Smiling, Miguel says, "Right on the money, dude."
"I'm Jay," Jay calls out, sitting there between Tim and Miguel.
Aggressively eager to meet the hot surfer, Joseph says, "I'm Jay's good buddy, Joseph."
Apparently, it didn't phase anyone, Joseph sneering, after receiving a quaint, how's it going?', age' sticking together, which made Joseph look inward, `am I losing my edge?'
When Peter didn't sense Jay's return, he came out front, to find the situation. Right away he didn't find out about Jay's accomplishment, but with some medical advice squatted down to converse with Sven about the lad's condition, "Did someone make a call to 911?"
"Yes. It's been only a minute," Sven replies, briefly deflecting his attention off the downed surfer!
Even though not the ideal time or place, Homer, who had followed Peter's lead, reporting out front, chatted with Joseph over last night, or tried to.
Joseph put him off, for all the right reasons. Not which it might pop a boner, but Homer should know, `what goes on at The Spin Club, stays at The Spin Club,' a motto often used in and around the club and bar, sometimes used as a reprimand outside on the streets, like right now!
Miguel talked with Tim, Jay acting like a mediator. Every time something about surfing came up, he threw his two cents in.
Sven, even though it looked like it, Miguel cutting in on his action, made himself aware he wanted to get to know Tim better. He also learned he was a fool to think such a thing, passing along, "Miguel, your boyfriend needs your attention?"
Right behind Joseph, about a block, were paramedics. Instead of an ambulance, they carried something resembling hikers packs.
Other surfers would have stopped to lend support, or at least catch up on the gossip, but sometimes a wave was more important!
"What have we got here, Joseph," he became head honcho for the moment.
Sven offers condolences on the surfer's behalf, "I would say Doug is grieving more over missing a morning of surfing, than a sprained ankle?"
Joseph's good buddy, Ian Collins, shows up right after the paramedics, asking Joseph, "Someone reported an accident?" he had his pad out, ready to record the incident.
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Cops, paramedics, `Surf Walk Lane', when Jared got wind of it, he left his coffee, bagel and laptop on the table and dashed out of The Nook. Putting the puzzle pieces together, he yells over to Gaz, assistant manager of the cafe, "Watch my stuff!"
From the ovens, baker, Giles Alexander, was filling the glass cases, "What's that about?"
"I don't know, but I bet his has to do with his brother?" Gaz replies.
"Of course," they all already know, Jay more important to Jared than anything else in his world, "or why else would he tear out of here and leave his laptop?"
Walking around the counter, they stood at the table.
Wandering over, Heath Hutchins asks, of the open laptop, "Do you think he's got any porn?"
Giles, softly closing the laptop, confiscating it, for Jared's behalf, says, "Fuck you, Heath."
"Promise?" Heath replies, like really hoping.
Even though he hoped for more, all Heath got was Giles' finger!
Gaz, he went about his business, making sure every table had the proper setting.
%
Back at Surf Walk Lane, closer to the `Surf Rock Road' portion, it's diagnosed, Doug, having a sprained ankle.
Paramedics, also brothers, Phil and Gary Holt, had been on duty at the time. They work out of the island hospital, which under the same roof seemed like a good, advantageous deal. Down one man, a call out, they tapped Justin Kneely on their way out. Former paramedic, turned medical supply salesperson, Justin was qualified to pinch hit, in case. This was one of those times.
Opportunity presenting itself, instead of a portable stretcher, Doug was taken from the road on a surfboard, his own.
Knowing his surf morning was ruined before it got off the ground, Sven volunteered lifting one end of the board. Tim could tell, it probably no imposition, the muscles Sven wore on his bod!
"I'll see you later?" Tim yells, not wanting to miss out on meeting up with Sven again.
"Wow," Jay says, "and all because I came out to get you Tim?"
"Yeah," Tim says, "and if you didn't take your sweet time, I probably wouldn't have even met Sven!"
It's then Jay let's the horse out of the barn, "Truth is, I already know Sven."
He sat there, watching Tim's mouth gape open, "Why didn't you say something?"
Using the excuse, Sven not really saying hello to Jay, acknowledging with a quaint smile and nod, "I thought you already knew, besides, Sven was kind of busy."
Jay could see something there, unsure, but with Tim helping him roll up the walk to the house, blurting out, `What's he like? Where do you know him from?', Jay knew they could eventually be more than friends.
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Out in the street, Joseph had lingered, Justin Kneely staying behind. A few years ago they had met up, at the hospital, Justin making a routine sales call.
Totally straight acting, straight looking, no one would think the 6-foot, 27-year old was gay. However, Justin didn't exactly go around broadcasting it. Neither did he speak to anyone about his addiction, wild fantasies, nor experiences, trying to live some of them out.
At the time he first met Joseph, nose for certain things, Justin couldn't fool some people.
Joseph, being one smart cookie, stood next to Justin, while he was writing out an order for the hospital, confronts the supply sales-dude, "I'd like to place an order for myself, when you have a spare minute?"
Holding up that strong, macho, steel exterior, Justin replied, "Are you a doctor or representative for the hospital?"
Joseph read into this whole gamble on one fact. Fire Island temps rising, even in an air conditioned facility, one anticipated the outdoor environment. Justin had removed his jacket. Tall, apparently hitting the gym more than twice a week, Joseph developed a stronger hunger, white dress shirt pulled across Justin's chest tight as a snare drum.
Anyone could have noticed the perky nips, but it was Joseph who made sure he got first dibs, "No, but I would sure be interested in turning some of your surgical tools into play toys for my dungeon set up?" he smiles confidently.
He could have been wrong, totally embarrassed, but Joseph had a perfect record. True, sometimes he had a brilliant assessment of a guy, but if sensing something wrong, he would back off. He felt very right this time!
Setting his pen down, Justin tears the order off his pad he was writing, picks up the pen, hands both pad and pen to Joseph, "Check off what you need."
Both exchanged smiles, which meant they were on the same page!
However, right now, surgically-turned-torture-toys were not on Justin's mind, rather, "Man, I think that wheelchair is from the 1980's!"
"80's huh?" Joseph responds to the chair Jay was sitting in. "You got something better?"
Acting straight as a porn star's cock, freshly-fluffed, Justin, who could turn the `macho' on or off when the situation demanded it, dominant side kicking in, "Cough up the 40,000-bucks and I'll have a Permobil C500 on your doorstep tomorrow morning."
"Like, I'm supposed to know what that is?" Joseph asks.
Like this Joseph's place, Justin feels free to walk past the front gate, "You should really do something about this walkway, Joseph. Gate too. Have an electric one put in or do away with it altogether," Justin steps up to the front door, examining it.
Recalling having spent personal time with Justin, Joseph says pompously, "Y'know, I'm not used to taking the orders!"
Standing with his back to the front door, Justin smiles, deviates from business for the moment, "I never gave up hope that maybe we could meet again, in another place and time and maybe...connect?"
"I'm not really all that versatile," Joseph says, "as if you didn't know?" He walks towards Justin, as if the smile is a challenge.
"Well, Joseph, thats for you to think it out. Like I said, I'm yours in the dungeon, no limits, whatever you want to do to me, but in bed, you're my little cock-slave!"
Joseph knew. It's something that's weighed heavy on his mind for the past three years. He admired Justin for two reasons. In the dungeon he made the perfect slaveboy, about to take anything he could dish out, including his own surgical tools-turned-dungeon-toys. Turning the tables in bed, from how big he saw Justin could aspire to? Joseph wasn't sure he could get into impalement!
Pressuring him, Justin convinced no one would or could make a difference in his life, relationship-bound, "We're not getting any younger you know, you and me? What're you, pushing 40?"
"No-o-o-o, I'm only 32!"
"Really?" Justin stops, starts, "Must be all that, fuzz, which makes you look older."
"Well, maybe I've got a lot, but you're not exactly smooth yourself. Besides, if I remember correctly, who was it who said how luscious all this fur tasted?" Joseph planes a hand from hairy chest, down to sticking a thumb in the fold of his chaps, wiry hair, hardly indistinguishable between bellyhole and pubes, which added to the message.
Stepping up to the base, back of his fingers feel up the same furry front, "Wouldn't mind feasting a little later, if you have the time," drops the macho man mood, "Sir?"
If he didn't, Joseph would have cleared the slate. Instead, turning his attention back to what mattered most, "40-grand, huh?"
Back to being macho, Justin barters, "I could knock off the commission as a special favor to you?"
"I think I just found some time in my schedule."
"Your place?"
"Of course," Joseph replies.
"Great. I'll meet you at The Spin Club around 9?"
"Eight. We'll get an early start."
"Fine. I'll bring some new items added to the catalogue!"
%
Making sure Jay was okay, Jared hung at Nash's beach house through lunch.
Jake, he finally got his hair perfect and left for Warrior One. It's not until then he found out about the commotion out front. Not Sean, Jared did mention something about the idea of being late vs. being on time. JZ accompanied him, saying he would drop off at Pinto's garage and see what jobs lay on the tablet for the day. With Doug out of the scene, JZ knew Pinto would appreciate giving up his day off, plus reap in some overtime.
Nash crashed, sleeping through noon.
Homer had left for the hardware store.
"I hope you don't mind I cancelled us out for the trip to the lumberyard, Jay?" Peter says.
"Nah. I don't know what it is, but doing some things really gets me fatigued," Jay replies. "Besides," he tries rolling, "I think somethings wrong with my chair," he looks down at the wheel.
"Let me take a look," Peter comes over to Jay.
Even though not planned, it was nice to catch a glimpse of Peter's chest, right there in front of him, in full view.
Looking up, Peter did a double check, before attempting to solve his curiosity, "What?"
"Nothing," Jay says, cocky smile.
"What I learned thus far, with `you,' nothing is not nothing!"
Being truthful, Jay says, "I was just thinking that...you're a sexy guy."
"Oh?" Peter falls to his ass, sitting cross-legged, "And what do they say about you?"
"I know I was a good looking guy, because everyone says I look like Zac Effron. Zac is like, the apex of gorgeousosity. What does that tell you?"
"You failed English in high school?"
"My point is, if I didn't have this wheelchair, like a stone around my neck, guys would be chasing me and...they're not. I'm okay to talk to, but like everyone figures, anything else, it ain't gonna happen."
"You cut yourself short. There's so much more to you than what you can't do, but you don't explore that part of what you can do and I can sense it's where much of your anxiety and depression comes from."
At the gym, Jay felt like punching Peter out. Since yesterday, he's seen the light, so to speak, coming out of his dark side somewhat, "I don't think that's whole case, but could be some of how I feel."
"Maybe we should run some tests."
Jay clams up, "I don't have to go the hospital, do I?"
"No," Peter rolls onto his knees, "we can be comfortable right here to do it!"
At first Jay's head backed up, all of two inches, before pinned against the back of the chair, Peter's face moving towards his.
"Then again," Peter sits on his feet, "maybe we're not ready for this test."
"I'm ready, I'm ready!" Jay exclaims. "I don't know. Should we be doing this?"
"Considering?"
"Okay, I'm going to take a risk here and maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong and if I'm wrong, I know I'll forever be a jerk, but..." Jay bit his lip, "...do you like, `like' me?"
"Of course I like you, or why else would I want to put my time and effort into making you better?"
"Oh," is all Jay could think of, having thought more.
"I have a confession to make," Peter smiles.
"Oh?" Jay thinks, `okay, I am a jerk!'
"I don't play real golf. All I got to do is play miniature golf."
"O-o-o-okay, so that means what?"
"If a prolific swimmer never pushes himself to make it to an Olympic event, he may look back on his life, wondering if he could have ever picked up a gold medal. Do you want to put yourself in his place 5 or 10 years from now?"
This was way different, opposed to talking with Jake or even his own brother. Taxing, Peter was making him think!
After brief thought, Jay says, "I already got what you mean about pushing myself, if that's what you're driving at, Peter?"
"Well, push yourself harder, your mind to the limits. Think outside the box. What is it, other than to get out of the chair and walk freely, that you want in life?"
"It would be selfish to even think it. Why should I tie another guy down to my predicament?"
"Yes," Peter readjusts sitting, "but on the other hand, don't you think there might a person interested in you, beyond your condition?"
Water under the bridge, Jay had already thunk on it...it was Peter!
Peter smiles, "Ever since my parents gave me the duty to watch after my grandmother, when I was 16-years old, I'd spend almost every hour after school, tending to her."
"Why? Where were your parents?"
"I never knew my dad and my mom had to work 3 jobs to pay the rent and feed the 3 of us. My grandparents worked hard all their lives, but my grandpop's medical condition drained their bank account. When he passed on, grandma lived with us. Her government check wasn't enough to live off."
Thinking about himself, never having to worry about a place to live, except by accidental status, nor food to feed him, not even medical costs, Jay's emotions took a turn for the worst, "I'm sorry."
"Don't you dare get misty over me!" Peter joked, rising up to on his knees to hand Jay a tissue.
"I don't know what gets into me," Jay claims, though a melancholy feeling coming over him has happened dozens of times.
"Your sensitivity, which is one of the things I like about you."
Blowing his nose, sniffing, Jay says, "I don't think I'm the only sensitive one."
Lightening up, seeing Jay needed some uplift cheer, "Are you calling me sweet, honeysuckle rose?"
It did the trick, Jay smiling, mainly how it was said, because, "I don't know what that means, but it sounds weird?"
"Not sure myself, but it's what grandma used to say when she thought my mom was putting something over on her. To a kid, I had the same reaction as you!"
Seconds later, Jay is saying, "Okay, I'm sold on your idea. You can stick around."
"Great. Um, should I be writing you a thank you note or something?" Peter jokes.
"I was thinking, some other appreciative measure?"
Hands on hips, standing erect on his knees, Peter returns,"Jare was right. There's gotta always be someone around to keep an eye on you!"
Turning his words back on him, Jay says, "Put yourself in a place 5 or 10 years for and look back. Will you be able to say you tried or backed down?"
Waving a finger at Jay, Peter says, "I've got to watch out what I say to you from now on!"
Justin had gone on his way, but Joseph stuck around, ready to spring the good news on Jay, "Hey, where are you kid?" he invites himself in.
Thor knew Joseph's voice, would never mistake him for a stranger, even though Jay tries, "Sick him, boy!"
Thor heeled.
Walking into their presence, Joseph speaks to, not Jay, nor Peter, but canine at attention, "Hey, what's this? You don't know me anymore?"
On the side, Jay says to Peter, "I guess we're one step below on the totem pole around here!"
"So!" Joseph stands up, from petting Thor, feeding him a milk bone he keeps on hand in his vest pocket, which occasionally he will feed to a `human' dog, "What do you want to hear first, the good news or the good news?"
"You want to stop taking up our time with riddles, Joey?"
"Why? What are you doing that's more important?"
When Joseph walked in, he immediately noticed, an act which looked like Peter hung over the railing of Jay's chair, head popping up, out of Jay's crotch. Too bad it wasn't the case, Joseph going on assumption!
"Don't ask, don't tell, Joey? So, what's the good news?" Jay badgers.
"I spoke to Justin Kneely and due to my charm, whit and all my other superlatives..."
"I didn't ask for an essay, Joey!"
"Well, now I'm not going to tell you!" Joseph crosses his arms across the fabric of his chest.
Peter says in a low voice, knowing Joseph would hear him too, "Roll over his foot!"
Playing the game, Joseph points the finger, "You'll be punished for your insolence!"
Getting bold, Jay says, "I'm going to punish you for your insolence, Joey, if you don't talk." Jay then realizes it, "Oh man, wouldn't that be sweet, having you tied to a chair!"
"Be careful what you wish for, Jay," Peter says.
Even though he knew they weren't a threat to him, Joseph divulges, "Justin's ordering you a brand new, super duper Permeable C500! What do you think of that?"
"Is it anything like a Roomba?" Jay asks.
Joseph replies, "What does it matter? You can't dance anyway, Jay."
Peter very well knew what Joseph was talking about, even though the company was known as `Permobil', inquiring, "Those chairs are kind of pricey, aren't they?"
"Yeah," Joseph chills out, unfolding his arms, leans on the mid-island countertop, moving his finger around in some spilled salt, "that's why you and me have to convince your brother to give us a check for 40-grand."
"Get off it Joey. You don't think he trusts you?"
"Of course. I think. Then again, he's going to hand me a check for 40-grand?"
Moot point, Jay says, "He trusts you with me. Don't you think I'm worth at least 10 times that much?"
Peter, third party to conversation, notices something quirky about Joseph, standing there with right hand on his stomach, pinky stretched downwards, the tip of his finger resting in the deep well of his bellyhole, thinking there's got to be something with that.
"You really want my opinion?" Joseph puts it to Jay.
"You better have the right answer, Joey, or I'm instructing Peter to get the rope!"
Fearless, Joseph says, "I have to admit, you got me scared there. I was going to say you're worth your weight in gold, better yet, priceless?"
Because it kind of interested him, especially since they had reached this juncture, Jay says, "Good answer, but we might still tie you up!"
Joseph rolls his eyes, "It's never gonna happen, so don't get your hopes up."
Peter says, "Never say never, Joey!"
After he leaves, Jay says, "I like Joey. He's always a cutup, and I know he meant it when he said I'm `priceless'."
Thinking, Peter asks, "You have a birthday coming up, don't you?"
"How did you know that?" Jay replies.
"Your stat sheet at Warrior One?"
"Okay, so you know it's July 5. What's up with that?" Jay feels a little suspicious, though not in a bad way.
"Tell me something. Does Joey bring you a birthday gift?"
"Yes and no. Usually he'll ask me what I want and then if he thinks it's a present that he would like to give, he'll get it for me."
"Did you get what you wanted last year?" Peter asks, standing, moaning about his cramped legs.
"I have to think," Jay thunk on it. "Sometimes, if it happened the day before yesterday, I'll forget about it."
"Trust me," Peter is up on it, "you're not the only one that happens to!"
"Oh! I know. I asked him for a surfboard in a magazine I saw."
"Let me guess. He turned you down?"
"Uh yeah, how'd you guess?" Jay asks, very well knowing himself and guessing how Peter knew!
"Why don't we forget about the past and move on. What's number 2 on your list?"
"I did mention about a month ago, this little greenhouse I saw, where you can hatch your own cactus plants."
"Hatch?" Peter questions with a smile, it cute!
"I don't know what you call it. Maybe it just grows."
"I'm surprised you haven't found out yet."
Perplexed, Jay asks, "Found out what?"
"The term for `hatching' new cactus seedlings?"
Jay truthfully answers, "Oh right." Untruthfully, "I knew that, um, yeah, I mean no. Truth is, I didn't find out."
"It's called `germinate'."
His signature, for finding out something he already knew, but forgot, had been dropping his head back, but now Jay could still declare, bopping himself in the forehead with his palm, "Oh, that's right. See? What I told you about the day before yesterday, it's true?"
"As I understand it," Peter explains, "during the surfboard accident, your head took a direct hit. I'm not surprised you have forgotten some things."
"I think it's the truth," Jay looks straight ahead, ready to philosophize, "I can't remember. Like, stuff's been erased off the slate of my brain." Turning his head towards Peter, "Does it really matter?"
"Do you remember what your mother and father look like?"
"Of course."
Thinking this could continue in a reverse direction, Peter pursues, moving onward, "What did Joey say when you told him about the greenhouse?"
"Nothing, like usual. Joey just did what he does. If he doesn't shoot me down," Jay mimics, tilting his head, "he goes, `Hmm.'"
"Hmm," Peter says, smiling.
"Oh no, don't do this to me...not you too?!"
As if Peter needed justification for his behavior, "Suns out. Guns out, so what are we still doing inside?"
"Is that my cell?" Jay asks.
"Ain't mine!" Peter smiles, hearing it too.
On this streak, to get Jay to care for himself, Peter chooses to run and get Jay's cell, in the other room, "Here you go. It's your brother."
Having seen Peter pick his cell off the kitchen counter, answer it, it didn't phase Jay, except to ask, "What does he want?"
"Something about a $40,000 wheelchair?"
"Uh-oh," Jay says. He gulped before thinking about how to go about this, choosing the dummy approach, "Hey, Jare. What's up?"
Intensions on being blasted, Jared called to make sure Jay would find it to his liking and useful.
"I think it would be great for me," Jay claims.
Next order of business, Jared relayed to him, Joseph getting all clammed up over asking about it.
"Yeah, I know," Jay tells him, inside info, "when Joey left here, he did seem like he had jitters, kind of opposite of how he can really be?"
It got Jay laughing, Jared telling him he used Joseph's sensitivity against him, as he were the big, dominant dude, telling the slave-boy he's done wrong!
"Cool!" Jay replies.
One thing though, after Jared hangs up, Jay assumes, telling Peter, "I guess I know what Jare's getting me for my birthday?"
"Let me guess. Does it cost $40,000?"
"Would be the most expensive present anyone ever gave me!"
It was about to get better, for Jay, Justin making some calls, finding out what he had in mind, was not available. From Justin's misfortune, would arise something for Jay, more fortunate, cheaper price tag!
Hanging on his cell, while a guy he knew at the surgical supply distributor he worked for, checked out the deal he would `not be able to turn down,' Justin rekindled meeting up with Joseph.
It was Joseph who brought out the dark side of Justin Kneely, years ago. Not on Fire Island, but in a clandestine order, a few friends with the same interest, getting together on a Saturday night, night of the unlikely pair's first meetup.
Flooding Justin's mind, while still waiting for his surgical buddy to get back, his mind drew up a sketchy timeline.
First meet, which being the straight, macho character he portrayed most of the time, Justin something hidden, deep down in his soul. Not which he tried to rationalize several bizarre thoughts, Justin knew there were reasons why he suppressed these thoughts, reasons unclear.
Regardless of the reasons, it would be Joseph Rocco whom brought out the inner self, a chain reaction of eventful meetups, leading to personal discovery.
Challenged, Joseph helped himself to the seat at a bar , set up much as HOODWINK'd and The Spin Club are today.
Justin thought it a little nervy for someone, especially a stranger, to even suggest something like a master-slave ratio, "What do you mean by that?"
Then, as it is now, Joseph also conducted himself like he could say and do no wrong. With much determination, like getting the job done and done right,' nudges Justin's arm, "you heard me. I always like to get it straight from the beginning. Why don't you finish that drink and we can go downstairs for a little extracurricular' activity?"
One had to understand the workings of this particular club. A likeness to HOODWINK'd/The Spin Club setup, whereas the dungeon club was much the same, purpose of the bar areas were totally different. Only likeness, HOODWINK'd catered to those looking for hookups, which could make or break a relationship out on the dance-floor. The bar they were at, hadn't a dance floor.
For Joseph and Justin that night at the bar, there was no opportunity for two people to find out, accidentally, if they were compatible, or by accidentally stepping on a toe or bumping asses. It lacked means by two dudes meeting up as total strangers and making a go at it.
Drinks were all their bar had to offer, other than crafty conversation. From there, guys hooked up to go down to the basement. In some instances, when a pair didn't click, they made their exit or set off on new expeditions. Only one reason why the bar was there and it wasn't only for the establishment to make money off drinks!
Thinking, the only chance he may have of it, Justin sat at the bar, deciding whether he wanted to buy Joseph a drink, or waited for a the opposite to happen, a drink put in his hand.
After doing so, Joseph chugging the shot down like it was spit in a glass, taps Justin, "C'mon, let's go. I got big plans for you tonight."
This threw Justin off, "But we just met. How could you..."
"Part of it," Joseph had it all put into perspective, "is finding out what you and me want from each other!"
That was then.
Now, Justin, filling Joseph in on the switch telling about an almost brand new chair, with a `stand-up' option, half the price of a c500, of which made Joseph exclaim over the phone, "Sweet!"
Punching off' on his cell, Justin thought he could swindle the Evans' brothers, charging the new' price. However, always the case, he wasn't into doing behind-the-back scamming, as some he knew did, to rake in extra commission. Always standing with honesty the best policy', it provided the comfort someone up there is watching out for me!'
However, little fantasy-schemes filtering into Justin's mind, he could not put down the thought, "Now wouldn't that beat all, Joseph finding out I scammed his best friend and he found out!"
In reality, Justin didn't have a mean particle as part of his physiology, nor mental capacities. What he did possess, not much different from any man, was the ability to conjure up a mental picture, which hand was wrapped around the mainframe of his bod, could cause a mental and physical reaction. Driven, an erotic scenario could help with the buildup, in this case, Justin breaking from his macho side, reducing himself to `mush', whereas Joseph became the dominant figure. Justin had to be careful with what he fantasized, publicly and private. How embarrassing it could be to pop a boner in the middle of the street and not in the comfort of home or when the moment presented itself, mens room of a public establishment.
Memories of that bar, years ago with Joseph, Justin sits there at a table at The Nook, waiting for Jared to return. Joseph had come on so sweetly to him, how could he not do him the favor of breaking the news to Jared Evans, it wasn't going to cost him $40,000 for the already spoken of wheelchair, but a mere $28,000!
On orders' from Joseph, Justin would wait until Jared showed, doing his homework', tallying up orders he took earlier in the day.
Backing up on the timeline, Justin had talked with Joseph just before making landfall at The Nook. Matter of fact, Justin hadn't even planned making it part of his morning. It's only, this favor he was doing for Joseph, which brought him there.
Entering, he had seen an official looking guy at a table, busily typing into a laptop. No one else, except for the Indian man, hurriedly, researching from some books, stopping, typing, stopping, researching, typing...could that be Jared Evans?
Too much thinking and not enough noticing the guy from behind the pastry counter calling to him, Justin did not become alert, until Giles was approaching him, "Can I help you find a seat?"
The Nook wasn't the kind of place where a guy met you at the door, his hot ass leading you to a table. You entered and found your own way!
Manner in which he was approached, coupled with the open collar behind the white apron, showing something more than a smooth chest, it came off as sexy for Justin, but he acted cool on the gay angle, assuming a controlled demeanor, "Yes, please."
"Here you go," Giles sets Justin up near a rear window, looking out over the canal, "best seat in the house."
If this were a formal place, like the dining room at Korbeau's, Justin might have found that Giles, holding the back of his seat and helping to sweep his pubes under the table, a cordial gesture, but he looked at it as more, "Thanks. I bet service like this keeps them coming back!"
From their first exchange of words, both had the inclination about the other, which is why Giles' response met with acceptance and not a slap to the jaw, "Oh yes. Our service here can be quite satisfying," he adjusts the apron!
Having scooted him in, under the table, Giles came to stand at the foot of the table, facing the window over the water.
For Justin, it was only himself receiving the full benefit of Giles' gesture, "I have to admit, I really like the service here," and since he hadn't already placed an order, "so far!"
As it goes, there wasn't any waiters at The Nook, up until 4pm, when it was discovered there would be `no business', unless a person could knock it off from the business world and have a place to come to, to relax. Being waited on was part of that relief.
Before 4pm, a person would enter, find their way to the counter, order up some coffee and pastry, take it to a table and then carry on with their morning activities. This could entail doing stuff like Sean Hardy was doing now, taking care of business, or Yashir, working on his first NYT Bestseller.
For Justin, his midmorning business, something unexpected, was in the inaugural stages of what he would be doing out of the offices of his car, beginning with the ferry trip back. However, after the table conversation, he knew his blue BMW would be missing him for a while!
Not which he wished to trade off Justin onto anyone, but only because it came up in conversation, Giles, pouring a fresh cup, nods, "If Jared doesn't show up soon, you might want to take up business with his right hand man?"
One of the 2 lap-toppers he originally spotted, Justin gazes at Sean, "Who? That kid?"
Having poked around, into Sean's business, Giles, on the up and up says, "Hardly a kid, he's 21 and for a guy his age, has worked himself into quite an executive position with Jared."
"Is that so?" Justin replies.
However, when Giles cast his eyes back, from Sean, he found something. Other than the initial glance, Justin was paying more mind to him, than Sean!
Knowing it was better to wait, to get to know a guy, like beyond first laying eyes on him when he walked in the door, now that Giles has been talkative with Justin for all of 15 minutes, coupled with where all the attention has been focused while pouring out Sean's short history, he jumps at the chance, "I get off real late tonight, but how would you like to meet up for a drink, or something?"
It didn't hit Justin with surprise, hoping to find a loophole in the conversation to mention the same, "`Something' sounds good. What time should I drop by here?"
"Around seven, for a long dinner and that way you wouldn't have long at all to wait. I bake during the evening fare and we close at eight. After that it's a little clean up and then I'm out of here."
Sometimes people didn't know whether Justin was joking or not, using a serious manner of speaking, "I bet you're an immaculate person, too?"
Giles renders, "Oh sure. Have to be when there's all this food around."
It was after all was said, Justin cracks a little smile.
Like reading each others minds, Giles says, "Oh yeah, I'm good at that kind of clean up too!"
"Cool," Justin's smile was even more relaxed. "Well, I'm going to interrupt Jared's right hand man, because as much as I'd like to hang around and be waited on, I'm sure we can pick up where we left off, later?"
"You got it!" Giles replies.
It was all he could do to keep his apron from tenting, Giles heading straight for `behind the counter'.
Rising up out of his chair and even though he only sipped water, Justin uses his napkin, approaches the `kid' two tables over, "Hi. I'm Justin Kneely. The waiter tells me you work for Jared Evans?"
"Just a second, please," Sean hits a few buttons on his laptop.
Justin didn't mind. The strange thing he found, for being connected with Jared Evans, especially in such a highly regarded position, instead of Wall St. garb, must be nice working in a tee shirt and boardshorts!
"There," Sean taps heavy on the last key he punches, closing the laptop. Standing, extending a hand, "Thanks for waiting. I'm Sean Hardy."
Many a time, but not all the time, when approaching a client with business, Justin would prepare himself. In all honesty, he intended on being very formal, but looking upon the crinkled up face, which formed soon as Sean smiled, it made him do likewise, throwing a wrench in his whole plan, "It's good to meet you," even though out of uniform, "Mr. Hardy."
"Call me Sean. You'll find out, the way Jared does business, we work in a very relaxed environment."
"I can see that," Justin lets the whole formality of greeting and meeting Sean, go to waste.
"Coffee?" Sean asks.
"I can just grab my cup from over here."
"Nah, leave that," Sean says, "I'll order you up a fresh one."
Thinking of `fresh', Justin thought Sean kind of out of sorts with mainframe executive status, watching the rear of his multi-patterned boardshorts pull and tug as he walked over to the counter.
He didn't ask how Justin would like his coffee. Sean, in secret, checking out The Nook whenever a new dude walked in, was already a spectator to Giles' approach. Sean figured Giles already had the up and up on how Justin liked his coffee.
Justin had to laugh, Sean returning, a cup of java in each hand, a waxy bag hanging down, clutched between his teeth, which prompted him to get up, "Here, let me be of assistance."
Right after opening his mouth, the bag falling into Justin's hand, Sean says, "Good catch!"
"Yeah," Justin replies, knowing the back of his knuckles grazed Sean's stomach, almost like he intended a sucker punch, "I'm good at catching balls."
Truthfully, Justin didn't mean it in a slutty sense.
Sean, wondered.
Getting down to business, after Sean divvied out the pastry, "First, I want to tell you, any business you have with Mr. Evans, I'm prepared to handle."
"Great," Justin was ready to put Sean to the test. "I'm not sure if Joseph has communicated to Mr. Evans," since `the kid' called the shots, he followed, "in regard to the wheelchair I had planned on ordering for Jay?"
"Of that I am not sure. As of yet he did not tell me about it. Can you give me some detail?" Sean acted very businesslike, the nature of his job, interested in keeping it.
"Originally I informed Joseph it would cost $40,000," he waited for Sean's eyes to pop out. When they didn't, reacting with no change in composure, "however, as I find out, the c500 is not available. Speaking with one of my reps in the field, there is a used model," in selling, he always analyzed specs first, before the price, "better than the newer model, it has a stand up feature." Then he let it sit.
"How does this stand up work?" Sean sat back , relaxed, folding his arms across his middle.
Gaging by the pull of the tee shirt, not which it really mattered, but Justin sometimes looking at clients from the sexual perspective. All it took, was a slight pull for him to pinpoint where Sean's hard nips were, placement of arms along the bottom of pecs.
"It's all mechanically driven. It requires very little on the client's part to start it in motion. All Jay will have to do is be prepared to `stand'."
"Wow," Sean said, though not really with enthusiasm, "what will they think of next?" Breaking posture, he opens his laptop, "Is there a video on You Tube which shows this?"
"Of course. What's isn't on You Tube?" Justin smiles, a little giggle escaping.
Lifting the laptop open, Sean remarks, "They've got good Wifi here," spinning it around 360, "type in whatever you like."
"All righty," Justin began chilling out, turning hands inside out, cracking knuckles, starts typing.
Sean watched. Justin was no less than amazing, but he wasn't thinking about his fast typing. All rehearsed in his mind, he did what he would have done to any hot dude, spun his laptop around, get the person comfortable, typing. Part two of his plan kicking in, Sean gets up, walks around the table, hovers over Justin, taking a whiff, thinking of what brand shampoo he uses, if he uses conditioner and other tiny facts, like the dark brown hair, stoopid facts, like how long does it take Justin to fix it in the morning. Not the proper attire, Sean would have like to surfed down the inside of Justin's shirt...too, it was a shame Justin sat too close to the table, to complete his itinerary.
"There it is," Justin exclaims, "all ready for your viewing pleasure!"
Sean stood up abruptly, hand to his own chest, thinking Justin knew he was being checked out!
Fortunately for Sean, Justin didn't look up, instead explaining how the chair was responding to the computer-generated figure.
Gulping, after inhaling, Sean says, "Um, that's quite amazing." He had wished he had his cup in hand to quench his dry throat!
"That it is," Justin replies. It's all these intricate workings and human ingenuity, when formulated together," he was a good salesman, even though he wasn't sure all his fancy words fit together, "move together to make the chair perform on command."
"Well, I'm not sure I got all that you said, but seeing is believing!"
Only 5'9, looking over a 6-footer's shoulder, Sean could feel his left pec connect, though there wasn't any way to handle it, with Justin telling him to look closer, "I see."
However, he quite quickly retracted, Sean returning to his side of the table. For certain, he didn't want Justin to know he was hard. Seeking to hastily jump off his own topic, "This used model, is cheaper?"
"I was coming to that. $28,000 vs. 40, I think it's a significant amount, even though still a large investment."
Sean, who was no stranger to Jay, nor condition, nor oblivious to how Jared felt about his brother, "Trust me, I'm sure Mr. Evans is very concerned and involved in his brother's welfare. How would you like payment?"
He was expecting more time, Sean getting on the phone and powwowing with his boss, which is why Justin stutters, "Ah...um, frankly I haven't thought about it."
Sealing off the You Tube video, Sean packs his laptop away, saying, "Well you think about it. I'll return tonight around 7pm, to The Nook and you can tell me your preference."
"Sounds good," Justin replies, it slipping his mind he was meeting up with Giles later, at The Nook.
"Telling me something Mr. Kneely?"
Spoken so professional, Justin thought this might be about his credentials or work history, "Yes?"
"You wouldn't happen to be into three-ways?"
`So much for eaves-dropping,' Justin thought. Though, that smile Sean flashed, whole face crinkled up, it was so tough not to react!
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Copyright 2015 T. Chase McPhee
FiRE iSLAND BiKiNiS, and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.