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" 43 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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After giving his information, reserving a time for a second interview at the International Cooking School, Kyle says to the person on the other end, "Hold it, my friend is here, also looking for an interview time."
Smiling, Kyle holds his hand over the receiver, saying to Scott, "He 'sounds' real cute!"
Giving Kyle a look, Scott wondered what 'cute' sounded like. "Hello?"
After a few seconds of conversation, Kyle raises his eyebrows, a little smile on his face, shaking his head up and down, then mouthing the words, 'cute, huh?' In retribute, Scott raises his shoulders as if to say, 'I dunno!' Saying to himself, 'the hell with it', Kyle's hand bats the whole thing away, heading for the kitchen. Scouraging around in the fridge, he found some leftover lasagna. Time passes and before Kyle knows it, he's chipped away at most of the long pan. "Hey Scotty, you off the phone yet?" Then to himself, he replies, "Should be. It's been like a half hour!" Receiving not a peep from Scott, Kyle gets up, drops his fork into the almost empty pan and heads towards the livingroom. Stopping at the kitchen doorway, he peers around the edge. "Hell, what's he signing up for, cooking 101, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 99?" Taking the opportunity to eavesdrop, behind Scott's back, he listens in.
"I think it's interesting we're both from Pennsylvannia, Jacob. Oh you have to go? No problem. Oh no, I won't forget to look you up when I come for my interview. Promise!"
After the phone clicks, Kyle's there on the prowl for answers to why it took him three minutes to schedule an interview. "You were on the phone for a half hour, Scott, you know?"
"So?" Scott replies. "Like you said Kyle, he's a nice guy."
"I didn't say 'nice', I said 'cute'."
"Oh well I think in this case, cute means nice," Scott tells him, still a bit of glow about him.
"Hmm... so did you happen to remember to schedule your interview?" Not jealous by a long shot, but inquisitive over how men seem to be attracted to Scott, either his appearance or voice.
"Oh sure. It's the first thing Jacob did."
"So, the cute-nice guy's name is Jacob?" He interrogates.
"You're not jealous of anything, are you?" Scott begins to get the feeling.
"Me? Jealous? I don't have a jealous bone in my body. No, what really bugs me is how it's your first week in New York and already you have opera managers on bikes hounding you down and now.... by the way, does Jacob work in a private office?"
"He's a second year student on scholarship. Jacob works in the registrar's office as part of his work-study."
"My-oh-my. So, Scotty, what else did you get out of him?"
While chatting they walked to the kitchen, Scott too a bit faminished.
"Is this all you left me?" Scott says, picking up the last square of lasagna and shoveling it in his mouth.
"I ate off of that fork you know?"
Picking a remnant off the side of his lips, Scott replies, "Whacha got? Rabies or something?"
"You can't get rabies by eating off of somebody else's fork. It's only communicated when an animal bites somebody," Kyle gives him the lowdown as if reading him his rights.
Catching on fast, Scott's hand drops to his side, then works it's way around, between his legs, softly massaging at the end of his zipper area.
"You can forget that too, Scott. I only do Alex's popsicle!"
"Popsickle!" Scott says, never hearing the expression, laughing his ass off.
"I can't believe you never heard of that, you country bumpkin. I bet Jacob has!" Kyle jokes.
Off the track, Scott says, "Y'know we're both from the same county?"
"Geez, Scotty. What else did you get out of him?"
Smiling, Scott rolls out some of the subject matter said over the phone for the last twenty-eight minutes, "We're the same height and we both have dark hair and green eyes. Interesting, huh?"
"Very," Kyle says, "scrubbing the lasagna pan in the soapy sink water. "Any indication about what's between his legs?"
"Don't be a smart ass! I don't even know if Jacob is gay and I didn't say I was, so as far as I know we're just friends, okay?"
"Friends?" Kyle questions. "In thirty minutes you go from strangers to friends. Hell, it took you a lot less time to make friends with Reiko. I'd say you're slipping, Scotty my boy!"
"Look, I'm not in any competition with myself to see how many men I can have an affair with, okay Kyle?"
"Oops," Kyle said as he let the water run over and over and over the lasagna pan. He did a double take looking over his shoulder, seeing if in fact Scott had vacated the room. Placing the pan in the dish drain rack, he shot the sponge into the water like spiking a basketball hoop. Whipping the dish towel from his shoulder, he did a quick hands-dry and stepped towards the livingroom. "Anybody home?" He called out, looking around.
Fervishly, Scott was flipping through a magazine, hardly absorbing anything, not even the pictures.
Coming around the sofa, Kyle asks, "Mind if I sit?"
"It's 'your' furniture!"
It's then Kyle really tuned in to how ticked off Scott was. "I was only poking fun at you Scotty." When he sat down, his arm bordered to top of the sofa. He left it there for now, even though he wanted to lower it to calm his friend.
"Yeah, I figured. Same thing when the guys at my high school found out I was gay."
"What happened?" Kyle asks.
"Do you want to hear all the sexual, juicy details?" Scott said sarcastically.
"Wait a minute here," Kyle got very serious, "I'm not the enemy here. I'm your friend. I'm only trying to help you Scott. If you...."
"Sorry," Scott replied, closing up the magazine and tossing it on the table. "Kyle, I'm sorry I got so carried away."
It became time. Time when Kyle could drop his arm, something which was not a planned move, but part of Kyle's personage, regards to caring for others. "I shouldn't have kept on bugging you."
"You didn't bug me. It's just that... well I have a tough time relating to guys and... you know it was real tough for me to even think about meeting Jacob?"
Kyle was confused. One minute Scott's jumping out of the car in midtown traffic and flashing his pecs, the next a closet case, talking about 'boy problems', seemingly extending from high school life. "Do you happen to have this 'Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde syndrome'?"
"Have what?"
Then Kyle stated what he was thinking, "Well you did okay with Reiko," not mentioning the shirt-strip in public, "and I think you got along with Alex and the gang okay. So what gives, Scotty?"
"Sometimes I get confused and let my emotions override the plausible. I know you're my friend, Kyle, but at the same time I started to feel like... like those bullies...." Kyle's head sunk down.
"I'm not going to understand anything of what your talking about Scott, unless you trust me."
"I do trust you Kyle."
"Then why don't you tell me what's eating away at you?"
LIfting his head towards the left side of the sofa, Scott stared into Kyle's eyes, pondering the question before him. Then he returned to fidgiting with his hands in his lap. "I pretty much had my secret guarded until halfway through high school. Actually further, like til after Easter vacation. Bad enough I was already the high school nerd. On vacation with my folks, in Florida, we happened upon one of our neighbors, the Heisers."
Kind of ahead of Scott, in thought, Kyle figures the Heisers have a son Scott's age. Sure enough, that was the case!
"As if Don and I were in kindergarten, our parents hung out, telling Don and I should do the same. We did to up until a point. You see, Don Heiser was this all around jock, on the football team and built like a tank. That vacation, he played a lot of beach volleyball, showing off for the girls. I was on the sidelines when Don tossed me the balls, saying, 'You're in for me, Broyles'. I had never played much volleyball, only in school during gym class. I wasn't at all attuned to sports the way Don is. Anyway, I got out on the sandy court and felt miserable. Every time I looked to Don, he was slapping his hand over his face like this was the worst day of his life."
"He say anything to you?"
"Yeah he did, which totally surprised me out of my gourd. He kept on saying stuff to build me up, like, 'Hey Scotty, don't worry about it, you'll do better'."
Kyle interjected, "Doesn't sound like Don is that bad a guy."
"Same thing I thought until..."
This is where the story began to turn ugly, Kyle sensing it before Scott even spoke.
"The volleyball thing was okay with Don, him even saying a guy has to have a lot of practice, knowing I wasn't a sportsy guy at school. Well, to make a long story short, during the game some Latino yells and calls me a 'faggot'."
"Don picked up on it?"
"Oh you bet he did! In fact he was ready to punch the guy's lights out!"
"Sounds like Don isn't such a bad choice of friend then?" Kyle remarks.
"It's what I thought!"
Readjusting themselves on the sofa, Kyle falls to the right arm of the sofa, Scott to the left one, their backs pressed against them, knees butting up against each other, Kyle hugging a sofa pillow.
After getting comfortable, Scott unloads on Kyle, "I never told my parents or anybody about this. Well, Don did confront the Latino guy, Hugo, after the volleyball game. In fact they wound up going to the hotel bar for a drink together."
"He didn't invite you?"
"No. That was the strange thing too. Directly after talking to Hugo it seems Don lost interest in being with me."
"Did he hang out with Hugo?"
Scott was silent for a moment, biting his lip.
Sitting up, Kyle tossed the pillow on the coffee table, placing his hand on Scott's calf, smoothing it up over his knee. "I'm not going to understand things if you don't tell me, Scott," Kyle tried forcing him to carry on.
"That evening, after my folks and his folks went out, Don comes to me and tells me he wants to show me something. So, we walk towards the back of the hotel. I questioned him about going down the back stairs, when the sign read 'Authorized Personnel Only', but he coaxed me on saying he had permission and he wanted to show me something really cool. Of course I trusted Don. I didn't have any reason not to. So, we trekked down the stairs, round the corner and then he held the door open for me. It was some kind of boiler room, so the sign said. It was kind of dark when we entered, lightbulb fixtures our only guide as we trasped through the narrow hallways, littered with pipes."
"You didn't ask him where he was taking you?" Kyle asked, a sense of forewarning danger in his voice as if he was there on that evening, in Florida.
"I did. All he responded is, 'You'll see'. Well when we got to a main room, I saw Hugo standing there and another guy. When I turned to ask Don 'What this is', he came out with, 'Hugo tells me you been looking at guys in the shower!'."
"Uh-oh." I take it Don doesn't go much for gays?" Kyle observed the omen of bad luck immediately. "So what did you say?"
"What could I say? Not only did Hugo come out and say it, but Don's opinion went with Hugo. But Hugo's friend, who said he witnessed me standing there in the lockerroom, pretending to tie my sneaker, was the guy Hugo proposed I had my eyes on, eyeing up his juicy cock!"
Kyle could picture the whole scene before him like he was there. The dark, room, highlighted by a light bulb here and there, the heat, sweat from the steamy boilers, guys in tank tops, tee shirts and shorts, looking like three against one. "I'm almost afraid to ask."
"I dont have to go on if you don't want me to," Scott replied.
Smirking, Kyle evalutated whether Scott really didn't want to go on or was it Scott wanting to spare him the gritty details? He made his choice, saying, "No. You have to tell me Scott."
"I like haven't told anyone about it," he again reiterated.
"Then double the reason you need to let somebody know what happened to you."
"Okay," Scott said meekly, swallowing before continuing, "At first it was Don doing all the talking, plus getting a little rough. Yelling obscenities and badgering me, he grabbed me by the tee shirt, wrapping it up in his big fist, asking me repeatedly if I'm 'some little faggot', pounding it into my brain, 'Hugo says he saw you'...then Hugo spoke for himself, saying 'His eyes were begging for my cousin's cock.. tell him, Juan. Then Juan opens up his mouth, and says practically the same thing, stuttering along the way. Well, between Hugo and Juan's statements against me, Don had been fully convinced of me being a 'faggot'."
"Um, not that it matters and I don't want you taking this wrong, but had you been sneaking glances at Juan?"
Tight-lipped, Scott sat there, not saying, but his silence proclaiming his guilt. Scott assessed the situation, now in midstream with his story, not able to turn back, blurting out, "I...I couldn't help it. He was like twice the size of guys in the gym at home. I couldn't help thinking how a guy could be that big... and he had like these humongous balls. You wouldn't believe the size of them Kyle."
"Size doesn't matter to all of us," Kyle replied, anxious to hear the rest. "So, what happened?"
"I watched as Don forsook me, telling me 'I don't want you hanging around me for the rest of the vacation, Broyles. And don't you fuckin' dare," he put his finger in my face, "talk to me at school! I don't hang around with no faggots!'. I walked to the doorway of the room, watching Don's back as he made his exit, slamming the door behind him. I was ready to follow him when a hand grabbed me on the shoulder."
This is the part which scared Kyle, but probably not as much as Scott was on that evening in Florida.
"It was Hugo. He asked me, 'Where you goin', faggot?'"
Skipping some of the gritty details, Scott said, "I told my mom I lost my glasses, but the truth is, when Hugo grabbed me from behind, he put me in a full nelson and his hand swiped them off my face."
"So they worked you over?"
"Yeah," Scott replied solemnly. "No way could I break their grip, especially after Juan yelling stuff about being a weak faggot and tossing his fist into my stomach. I take it this isn't the first time the cousins worked as a team, the way Hugo seemed to know how to hold me tightly so Juan could take his sadistic pleasure out on me."
The thoughts made Kyle feel creepy. He's had a few small scuffles in his short lifetime, but none which could compare with Scott's ordeal. "Come here," he coaxed Scott into his arms.
Needing a shoulder for psychological comfort, Scott took Kyle up on his offer, falling forwards into the grip of his arms. "You're such a good friend to me, Kyle."
"I wish I could have been there for you that night. Berfore. Maybe if you had friends who understood none of this would have happened." Another thought occured to Kyle. "You know you had a good case against Don. Did you pursue pressing charges?"
"I've thought about that myself Kyle. You're right, I should have. I could have very easily gone to the police and told them what happened. I'm sure not only Don would have been arrested, but... I was scared. Do you understand?"
"From what you've told me, I do. I can't imagine what it was like to be locked in a windowless room and accosted by two thugs."
"I also found something else out," Kyle broke away from the hug, looking into Kyle's dreamy eyes.
"What'd you find out?"
"Well, during the scuffle, while Hugo was holding me, he yelled something to Juan about getting their money's worth."
Right away Kyle came back with, "Don paid them to work you over? That fuckin' bastard!"
"As I see it he paid them to send a warning from him."
Seeing it before Scott said it, Kyle had the insight to think, "The asshole let them do his dirty work of telling you to keep away from him, the workover to make sure you understood!"
"Yeah. Looks that way. Another reason I dropped everything and didn't go to the police. The other thing, I didn't think my parents would understand."
"I know this is none of my business, but did you ever tell them Scott?"
Pausing, he finally broke the silence saying, "My sister knows, but she agreed with me if wouldn't be a good scene if I told them."
"Doesn't it bother you?"
"I'd love to tell them, but I know for right now it's not the thing to do. Gloria and I are real close. I figure she knows what is right and I'm going on her intuition."
Kyle accepted it, apologizing, "Well if I said anything in the kitchen that linked you to these memories I'm sorry, Scott."
"I'm kind of glad you ticked me off. For the longest time I've been wanting to share my story with someone who would understand."
Kyle voiced his feelings, saying, "I'm flattered Scott."
"And you have to be the most kindest person I've ever met and you wait. I'm going to pay you back for every cent you've loaned me."
"Let's just get through cooking school first?"
"I just want to tell you something real quick. It took me a long time to get beyond Don Heiser, to trust anyone again and.. I want you to know I trust you Kyle."
"I know. Or else you wouldn't have told me your whole story. C'mon. Let's go figure out what we're going to make for dinner!"
Hearing the door bust open, the two got up after looking over the sofa wall, seeing Devon coming towards them, saying, "Hi guys. There is my friend Jarrett I brought him home for dinner!"
Those lit up green eyes below the blond bangs always tended to irk Kyle, when the flashy smile was added. Snidely, he asks Devon, "Um, aren't you a little mistaken, Devon? Like this isn't your home?"
"Oh yeah I know, but I was telling Jarrett here," he put his arm around the eighteen year old's shouder, giving him a friendly hug, "how you guys are fantastic cooks and Jarrett here is like a gourmet!"
Scott and Kyle exchanged glances, realizing Devon wasn't being so buddy-buddy with Jarrett, as the fact perhaps Jarrett was acting as the lampost holding him up!
"Devon, how much did you have to drink?" Scott was the first to ask, like Kyle, arms folded across his middle.
Second words out of Jarrett's mouth, after greeting Kyle and Scott is, "I don't think Devon drinks champayne too often, does he?"
Neither of the two could relate to him.
"C'mon," Kyle then offered, "I'll show you where he can sleep it off."
Taking Devon under the arm, Kyle and Jarrett walked him to the spare guest room, Scott trailing behind.
"Devon you know you stink?" Kyle says.
"Do I?" the eighteen year old responded, again flashing the hard-to-get-mad-at grin.
"We've got to strip him. He's 'not' sleeping in my house smelling like a wino!"
Plopping Devon down on his back, Kyle went to work undoing the buttons of his shirt, turning to the other two, saying, "Well you two, just don't stand there!"
Scott and Jarrett, total strangers looked at each other, Jarrett mentioning, "His shoes!"
In no time three guys had Devon down to his 'Nouguet' briefs.
"Nice," Jarrett said, looking and not touching, though he was dying to.
Bold to say, Kyle bursts out with, "The bulge or the briefs?"
"Kyle!" Scott scolds.
Smiling, Jarrett replies with a smile, "Could be um... never mind."
"Anybody hungry?" Kyle skipped over the theme of their conversation.
"You just ate the whole pan of lasagna!" Scott announced.
"It wasn't the whole pan. Beside, you ate some of it too, Scotty!"
"You left me a lousy forkful and bad enough the fork had your germs all over it!"
"I didn't force you to eat offa it!"
Jarrett smiled, thinking what a comedy team the two made, Kyle taking the honor of tucking the sheet inbetween Devon's pits before the three abandoned the room.
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Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.