For Sale by Owner

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, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.

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"For Sale By Owner" 31 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

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That night, as Alex and he prepared for bed, Kyle stood at the vanity, watching Alex brush his teeth.

"Do you think I played the trumpet okay?"

The hand with the toothbrush held up an index finger, upon Alex's directions. He took a slug of water, bent over and spat it out.

"I think you sounded great. Why?" He could see Kyle acted a little down.

"I don't think Carlos thought I sounded very good."

"Nonsense, Kyle. He said so himself that you played with feeling."

"But there was no... `umph' in his reaction."

Dropping his washed off toothbrush in the little slotted cup, Alex said, "I think you did good and that's my honest opinion."

"If you say so," Kyle accepted. He wasn't about to come out and accuse his lover of not knowing anything about music, though he didn't think Alex knew much about the classical style.

"Now cheer up! Who knows. Maybe Carlos was tired from a long day at work." Then he jokes, "from those clumsy customers he had to deal with!"

Kyle cracked a smile

Alex decided to try some dry humor, saying, "Hey, I'm feeling kinda horny... care to lend me your tongue?"

"Sure," Kyle stated, unfolding his arms from his pecs, allowing his arms to drop to his sides.

Following Alex into the bedroom, spotting the little hair in the small of his back, started creating some uplifting spirit. Kyle found himself licking his lips. Thinking back to last night, he thought how he totally immersed himself in caring for Alex's bod. He began to forget about his trumpet performance.

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The next morning, they found themselves rising, showering, eating breakfast, then hitting the streets of New York, admitting they had eaten too much for dinner and needed to walk it off.

"I had a good time last night," Alex says.

"Dinner or after dinner?" Kyle questioned him.

"All three."

"Huh?" Kyle acted perplexed.

"Dinner, after dinner and way after dinner!"

Both giggled, Kyle admitting it too got his mind off of the unpleasantness they had chatted about.

"Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"What if I'm not good enough to get into music school?"

"You don't know until you try."

"I tried."

"They didn't accept you because they weren't accepting anymore admissions."

"Yeah, but still."

Alex told him, "Don't sell yourself short."

Then, in another vein of thought, Kyle asks, "What happens if Dominic is right?"

"About what?"

"That I'm good at cooking and I could be a fivestar chef?"

"Do you want to go to cooking school? Do you want to be a chef?"

"I had thoughts of it at one time. No, not thoughts, I dreamed of it, like having my own restaurant."

"Then what's keeping you from pursuing it, if it's what you want?"

"It became a tossup."

Something dawns on Alex.

"So," he tells Kyle, "you opted out for applying to music school because you didn't want to spend your college days under the watchful eye of your brother?"

Stopping, Kyle turned and plopped himself down a park bench. Alex did likewise.

"Did I tell it like it is?" Alex confronted his brooding lover.

"I guess you can say that."

"Good. Now we're getting some place," Alex says. "So which is it you want? Do you want to see if food prep is your groove or do you want it to slip through your hands?"

"You're making it sound like it's my `thing to do' in life."

"I'm only trying to get to the bottom of this, because.... because I love you and want what's best for Kyle."

Kyle picks his head up, turns it and poses towards his lover, "I'm kind of mixed up."

"What I figured," Alex says.

"What do you think I should do?"

"Well, you're not going to music school this fall and there's a spot waiting for you at the CIA, so I'd say go for it."

"But Knapp."

"The hell with Knapp," Alex says a little too loudly, then looks around, returning his attention to Kyle. "You're a good cook. You proved it to all of us last night. Who knows? Maybe you're even a better cook than Knapp!"

"Knapp's the one who taught me how to cook," Kyle tells him.

"Oh. Well, that doesn't mean he's better."

Kyle seemed to be able to deal with that, resigning to, "True."

"So what do you say we concentrate on cooking school this fall and wait and see what happens for next year?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Kyle says, "I guess so."

"Listen," Alex puts his arm around his lover, "I'm here for you. I'm here to help you."

"Thanks," Kyle simply says.

Diving off on a different subject, Alex tells him, "Y'know there's a lot of people around here with bikes. I think we should get ourselves some. What do you think?"

Kyle's answer comes in the form of, "There's a bicycle shop in the area."

"Let's stop somebody and ask."

"No, you can't do that!" Kyle said.

"Why not?"

"This here isn't the country."

Before Kyle could get Alex in the walking mode again, he had flagged down two guys on bikes.

"Do you mind telling us where you got your bikes from?"

One of the guys, seemingly in his early twenties replied, "We stole them!"

Looking at each other, they laughed out loud, causing Alex and Kyle to follow through with the same.

"All kidding aside, there's a bike shop over near E. 50th."

Alex recalls, "Anywhere near Guerra's food market?"

"Yes," the blonde answered, "About two doors down, on the right, looking at the front of the market."

Kyle says, "I bet Carlos knows where it is."

"You know Carlos?" the dark-haired guy asks, unbuckling his helmet, taking it off, shaking his head of hair out.

"Only for a little while," Alex tells them.

Following his buds direction, the blonde removes his helmet, putting his bike in park mode. Throughout the conversation, Alex and Kyle find out that Carlos used to do a lot of biking with them, growing up, but in the last two years he's been practicing his instrument more and working, what usually comes with a teen's older years.

"Great way to get around in the city," the blonde tells them.

"I don't doubt it, with all the traffic," Kyle says.

Alex informs them, "I used to ride my bike all over the countryside, where I'm from."

"Where would that be?" the darker-haired rider asked.

"Lake Quinn, just over the New Jersey border."

Shaking his head, the dark-haired one says, "Never heard of it. I've never been out that way."

Realizing they are getting kind of friendly with the two, standing there, talking for over fifteen minutes, Alex decides to introduce themselves. Jake Hernandez, the dark-haired guy and Claude Montague fill in the gaps by telling them where they are from, their current college situation and other tidbits. Exchanging phone numbers, the two agree to meet Alex and Kyle at the bike shop next Saturday, but will confirm plans during the week. Soon, the two are pedaling through the park, as Kyle and Alex are on the rebound for home.

"Seems like nice guys."

Alex says, "They are friends of Carlos. Carlos is a nice guy, so I don't doubt it they could be. Funny..."

"What is?"

"In this great big city of millions of people, we come across two guys who know Carlos."

"Didn't Jake say he's known Carlos half his life?"

"That he did."

"And what do you think about them?"

"In what way?" Alex asks.

"Are they good friends, or more?"

"I was thinking the same thing. Jake mentioned where he lived and it seems Claude went right along with it, not mentioning a different location."

"They could be roommates," Kyle concludes.

"Yeah, but do they share the same bed?"

Kyle laughs, as they trekked up the few short steps to their townhouse.

"What's for dinner?" Alex asks.

"Veal parmesan... revisited!"

Inside, the foyer, they take off their jackets. Kyle offers a hanger to Alex, hanging his own coat up.

"Oh, by the way, I found a grey hoodie on the floor yesterday. It blended in nice with the dust attached to it!"

"Abercrombie?" Kyle questions his lover.

"Yep."

"Knapp's. I've found that myself. He hastily hangs up his things, having them drop off the hanger, but doesn't stay around long enough to check if they clinged to it."

"What a slob!" Alex says.

"What'd you do with it?"

"Took it out on the porch and shook the dust off it. I thought about hanging it up, actually did, but then opted out for the hamper."

"Knapp usually takes his good clothes to the cleaners. I've always done the wash. I don't think he knows how to use a washer and dryer," Kyle tells of his brother.

"Wait a minute. You did all his laundry?"

Kyle moves his head in the affirmative, up and down, adding, "And after he taught me some cooking basics, he elected me the official chef of the household."

"Sounds like you became his slave."

"Sometimes it felt like it, but he `did' do the vacuuming." After thinking a second, Kyle adds, "Once!"

Alex says facetiously, "I've seen his `work'!"

"But we both are responsible for screwing up the linen closet. Thanks for straightening it out."

"Let's keep it that way?" Alex request.

Bowing, both hands clasped in from of him, Kyle-the-slave, says, "Yes, your royal hiney-ess!"

"Where's my dinner, slave?"

"Coming right up, your excellency!"

However, Alex reported to the kitchen as well, washing up his hands in the sink and volunteering to put together a fresh salad.

"Wine?"

"No thanks."

"A beer?"

"Nah. Just not into it."

"Pot?"

"Whaaaat?"

Kyle laughs his ass off, reporting, "One of Knapp's biggies."

"Oh? How's that go?" Alex questions, as he holds still some spinach leaves in the middle of tearing them up.

"I'm not going to deceive you Alex. I tried smoking pot once and immediately hated it. In fact, when Knapp caught me smoking his weed, he busted my ass for touching it."

"Do you.... smoke?"

"Oh no. I never smoked in my whole life until I tried his little pipe. Though, after one puff I cursed the stuff and swore never to try it again. Knapp's bawling me out was beside the fact."

"So does Knapp use it regularly?"

"Sure. I used to come home and find the house stinking of the fumes. I really hated the smell of it after my first time."

"Does he have anymore stashed away?" Alex asks.

"Why? You want to try it?"

"Oh no. I've seen guys in high school fry their brains on the stuff. Nope, I'm keeping myself away from drugs. I want to live to see my career blossom and flourish. And.." he paused, looking at Kyle, "I want to experience a long life with the man I love!"

Smiling, Kyle shut the over door, then paired his lips up with Alex's.

"So, why do you want to know if Knapp has drugs around?"

"Because if he does, I want to dispose of them. No sense having that stuff around if there's nobody using it."

Kyle informs him, "I doubt there is. When he went to work down in Asbury he packed more than clothes. But I'll check the places where his stash was known to be kept and let you know."

"Thanks, babe," Alex told him, going back to work on the salad prep. He did bring up another order of business, saying, "Y'know, I'm not sure I can go to the bike store on Saturday. I might have to work at the Coffee Bean on Saturday."

"I didn't think of it, when we chatted with Jake and Claude," Kyle says.

"Me neither. With only being on the job for two days, I'm not thinking of myself as a working man."

"Didn't the manager give you a schedule?"

Alex just smiled.

"What? Kyle said, looking at Alex.

"The truth is, I don't think they really needed another waiter."

Kyle's reaction turned stranger, him asking, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"My coworker, Jim, informed me Mr. Miller likes to hire good-looking boys."

"Hmm... Is Jim good-looking?"

In a sexy voice, Alex replies, "Very!"

"So, you should take it as a compliment, Alex."

"I know, but the point I'm trying to make is, as Jim tells me, there wasn't enough hours on the schedule for a fifth waiter."

"Hmm, are the other waiters cute, too?"

"Yeah," Alex tries to reluctantly get it out.

"Well, just don't go falling in love with any of those cute boys."

"Don't need to," Alex says sincerely, "I've already got myself a cute boy here at home!"

It provided another moment of sweet making out.

"So, what about your hours?"

"Oh yeah, my hours. So, Mr. Miller said to phone him on Monday and he'd spell out my schedule for the week."

"I hope it's not going to dig into our quality time," Kyle says.

Alex voices his opinion, "I think when we both get started in school, we're going to have to make some concessions to each other."

Smiling, Kyle says sweetly, "Yeah, I guess we can't avoid having our days shaded in with activities. I wonder if Mr. Miller needs another cute boy?"

Alex jokes, "Why? Do you know of any?"

Taking a cherry tomato out of the salad bowl, Kyle throws it at Alex.

"Oh shit! It went down my shirt!"

Entering the neckline, Alex pats down his shirt, trying to locate the little red pebble.

"Don't do that, you'll wind up...."

Too late, a wet spot forms at the beltline line of the tucked in tee shirt.

Shaking his head, Kyle says, "More laundry!"

"It's your own fault!"

"You shouldn't have squashed it!" Kyle continued the friendly bickering.

"I wouldn't have, it you didn't throw it down my shirt."

"Like I knew was going to go down your shirt Alex?"

The two slung their words of blame back and forth, but with no harshness intended. With the ensuing stalemate, Kyle rips Alex's tee out of his pants, his hands looking for the juicy morsel. Alex wiggles his eyebrows as Kyle feels under his shirt, every place except for where the cherry tomato is lodged.

"I love your hairy chest," Kyle says.

"You've already told me fifteen times!"

But it's now, Alex drops his head back, sighing, "Oooooooooooh," when Kyle manhandles the nickel-sized buttons on his pecs. Hooking Alex's tee shirt behind his neck, Alex watching as his nips are teased with, each time throwing out the same sighs of pleasure, squinting his eyes, his mouth forming an `o', head tilting back, as if looking up at the ceiling.

"Hee, hee, hee... looks like I've got you under my spell!"

While he does, Kyle slips his right off, his hand moving to Alex's side, sliding down his ribs, neatly separating Alex's jeans at the waistline, entering the front of his briefs. To keep his balance, as he falls deeper into a trance, Alex leans back on the countertop. Feeling up Alex's 9.5c hardening, Kyle goes for his zipper, saying, "Hold that thought!" Speechless, except for moaning, Alex allows his zipper to slide down, pants parted, eventually hands anchoring his briefs under his big balls. Letting Alex's jeans fall down around his ankles, Kyle leans forwards, mouth open.

"Ooooooooh," Alex tenses up, when Kyle's warm orifice surrounds his hard shaft.

Suddenly the over timer goes off!

"Shit!" Kyle voices his opinion. With haste, as if in a contest, he slips off Alex, reaches over, turns off the gas, pulls at the over door leaving it ajar, popping back on Alex's stick, all in the space of a half-a-minute.

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Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.