The following story is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature, and is not meant to accurately depict, nor reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in 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. This is fiction. Do not forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matter'; got condom?
"Muscle Jocks For Domination" 06 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Arriving at the donut shop, wedged in between a strip mall and gas station, Steve wondered what the hullabaloo was about. He parked in the strip mall, since yellow tape blocked the parking lot entrance.
"Hey mister, you can't cross the line."
To the cop, Steve replied, "What's happened here, officer?"
"Confidential, until we can finish the investigation, but on the side, robbery at the gas station; bullet goes astray; donut shop employee happens to be at the driveup; takes it in the shoulder. It could happen to anyone."
Even though Steve's attention span is wandering all over the place, as the officer dishes out the info; to the gas station, then the unseen side of the donut shop driveup, but the shop itself is close enough, then back to the officer telling the story, he senses being `looked upon'. However, Steve's immediate response is focused more of his would be passenger.
"Oh no! What about the kid? Raavi?"
"You know the clerk?"
"I was on my way to pick him up and bring him home."
"Are you his guardian?"
"Just tell me, is he alright?"
"He took a gunshot to the shoulder. He was rushed to the hospital."
"What hospital?"
"Maybe you can help fill in the blanks. Where does he live?"
"I don't know. What hospital?"
"Do you know his parents?"
"No. This is the first time I've taken him home. What hospital did they take him to?"
"He's stable. What else do you know about this Raavi?"
"Not much. I don't know much about him, really other than he's a nice kid." Then, something totally out of character for Steve, he places his hand on the officer's bicep and squeezes rather tightly, badgering, "Hey, you going to tell me what hospital he was taken too or what?"
"Hmm..." Any other person, the officer might have well as had the cuffs on him, spun around, wrists connected above his ass, but he sensed something different about this assailant.
"Well, until we find out more about his family, I suppose we could go to the hospital. Um, do you mind?"
"Not at all officer. Sorry `bout that," Steve, realizing the pressure he's put on the official, doesn't necessarily remove his hand, but lightens up on the pressure.
"If you don't mind, mister, we'll take the patrol car. It'll be tough cutting through downtown traffic, as it is."
"Fine. Let me grab my laptop."
Watching Steve hustle to his car, the officer wished he could utilize that top's lap! His loins tingled, at the expense of the possibility that this hot stud wasn't gay at all, but his gaydar was giving him good vibes.
"Hold on," the officer told Steve.
Tearing out of the traffic pattern, passing up the lines of vehicles, traveling in the center emergency lane, the patrol car sped along. While the officer pay attention to the motorists, Steve smiled, as his eyes sped up and down the officer's physique.
Without as much as looking at Steve, the officer tells him, "I guess I was right about you, huh?"
"Huh?" Steve questions, his attention drawn now to the officer's insinuations, instead of the hot bod.
"Like what you see?"
Gulping, knowing what the officer is referring to, Steve plays dumb.
"Ah, traffic's pretty bad, I'd say."
That didn't quite sound like the right answer, but it's the best thing Steve could come up with.
"Yeah, the traffic `sucks'."
Suddenly the inside of the patrol car seemed kind of hot.
"Um, can you turn down the heat?"
"Heat?"
"Yeah, it's kind of stuffy in here."
"I would, except the heat's not on. How about some AC?"
"No, that's okay."
"Hold on to your lugnuts. This is going to be a wide turn."
The officer wasn't kidding. If not for the seatbelt, Steve would have most likely been sitting on the officer's lap. Then again, that wouldn't have been so bad!
"Whew! You're some driver there...um...."
Sitting in the hospital parking lot, almost in front of the emergency room, they both realize they hadn't introduced each other. They were both about to witness a very strange encounter.
"Oh, sorry, I..." Both began to apologize at the same time.
"I'm Jim...Steve..." Both began to introduce themselves at the same time.
"You go first," Jim said.
"Steve Kestner."
"Jim Kirk."
"Like the captain of the Enterprise?"
"I get it all the time! Hee heee.."
They reached out to shake hands, except they didn't let go.
"I know this sounds like the line of all lines, Steve, but have we met someplace before?"
Sensing some kind of connection himself, Steve replies, "I think so, but I don't recall where."
Their hands remained intact for a few moments.
"I feel that I want to get to know you better, Steve."
Smiling, Steve asks, "How did you know that I'm gay, `too'?"
"Sure makes it easier now that we both know, doesn't it Steve?"
"Yeah. Lots easier, Jim."
"C'mon, let's go see how the kid is doing."
Both exited from the sides of the patrol car. Entering the emergency room, the twenty-eight year old officer, being a cop, enabled the two to zoom through the security checks.
"Here," Jim said.
Instead of handing the badge to Steve, to clip on his jacket, Jim reached up and clipped it onto the left upper pocket of the dress jacket. At the same time, they locked eyes and smiled at each other. That wasn't the only thing that touched Steve's soul. His cock showed interest, as well. Approaching the desk, Steve watched Jim's hot ass below the little pouch of handcuffs. Something terribly strange irked him. A bottom all his life, he could not comprehend why he had the urge to fuck Jim's ass. So strong the feeling, he had to place his laptop in front of his crotch, similar to back at work, the elevator scene.
"Room 222."
Now side by side, the two walked down the corridor. At the pace Officer Kirk proceeded, it became damn tough for Steve to cover up his lap with the laptop case. The two rushed to catch the elevatore.
Jim yelled, "Hey, hold that!"
Entering the elevator, a young guy held his finger on the button..
"Oh, it's you, Matthew. How's it going?"
"Good and you, Jim?"
Even though Jim had addressed him, Matthew's attention spanned elsewhere. Smiling, Jim figured Matthew wanted to know who the hot stud was that stood next to himself.
"Matthew, meet Steve Kestner. Steve, Matthew Diggles."
Shaking Matthew's hand, Steve replies, "Great to know you Matthew."
"Same here, Steve."
"Diggles, huh? Not a name one hears very often."
"I know," Matthew replied, his interest still on Steve.
"By the way, guys, just so we don't have to pretend, we're `all' gay here."
"Um, like the way Matthew was looking me over, I couldn't tell?" Steve meant as a joke.
It's at that point Steve realized he embarrassed the hell out of the guy.
"Oh, sorry. I guess I could've put it better."
Backing Steve up, Jim adds, "He's really a nice guy, Matthew, even though just now he acted like an ass!"
Matthew led off the laughing, saying, "I won't hold it against you, Steve.
However, Steve was hoping something else could be held against him!
"You work out, Steve?"
"Yes. The company I'm employed with designs and sells exercise equipment. We have a state of the art gym."
"Luck you, Steve. I have to pay to use a gym and right now I'm low on the big bucks, so the only choice I have is a pair of dumbbells and a weight bench, at home. What's the name of the company?"
"Advantage? Hear of it?"
"Sure. Who hasn't? So, they use you as a guinea pig, Steve?" Matthew jokes.
"Sometimes it feels like it. Maybe sometime you could be my guest."
"They allow you to do that, Steve?"
"Sure. Of course, it would have to be aside from company time. What's your schedule like, Matt?"
Officer Kirk wondered how come when he called Matthew, `Matt', he got the fifth degree, but he let Steve get away with it!
"Well, I'm still doing graduate work, part time, so I have classes here and there, plus work evenings, waiting tables at Pazzo Pazzo."
"Nice place," Steve replies.
Leaning on the elevator railing, Jim stands there, taking in their conversation.
"You've been there?"
"Sure. We just had our company Christmas get together there. Great jazz."
"Yeah. One of the benefits of working there. I thought I recognized you."
"Then why didn't you say something, Matt?" Steve says, tapping him on the stomach, as a gesture.
Unknowing to Steve, that little tap with his hand, sent shocks through the twenty-four year olds bod, ending up in his pants.
"I wasn't sure, Steve. Before I go shooting my mouth off about something, I like to get the facts."
Then Matthew begins to rattle off a ton of facts.
"That's what my Uncle John used to say... he was an avid Mark Twain fan. I memorized his favorite saying, `Get the facts first, then you can distort them as you please'. My Uncle John raised me, on account of my folks died in a plane crash."
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Matt. Recently?"
"No. When I was a little squirt. My brother, Scott and I grew up with Uncle John. It was cool because Uncle John is gay. Scott and I got a lot out of life, learning about being gay from him. Yeah, it was a cool relationship."
"So, your brother is gay, too?"
"Yeah. He still lives with Uncle John."
"How old is he?"
"Eighteen. Almost ready to graduate from high school. He wants to fly out here and go to school."
"And what is it you're majoring in?"
"Design, though I'm not sure exactly in which way I want to apply it. Hey, you into jazz, Steve?"
However, the question remained open-ended, as the elevator arrived at their destination.
"Our floor," Jim reported.
"Here, Steve. This is my phone number, if you want to get together sometime and listen to some jazz?"
"I take it you're a fan, Matt?"
"Somewhat. New to it, but I dig it."
"Well, it's been nice meeting you, Matt."
"Same here."
"Looks like you two hit it off, Steve."
Steve detected a streak of jealousy, but didn't get a clear reading of Jim's feelings, so wasn't reading into that vein.
"Nice guy. What room did you say Raavi was in?"
"222, which is right about... right here, Steve," Jim replied, holding the door open.
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Continued....
Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.