Owen

Owen

Chapter Four

by Roy Reinikainen

Owen followed Lucas to the door with his eyes, still chuckling at the rooster joke. In only the few hours they'd known one another, he felt as if they'd become good friends. As he lay trying to sleep last night, he realized how deeply he missed Sam. He knew Lucas would never take Sam's place, but he could be a good friend. He hoped he would become a good friend.

He was drawn to Lucas, his dark hair, bright smile, and twinkling eyes, which hinted at a deeply hidden mischief, too long hidden. Lucas seemed to be much like him, starved for affection. 'Probably for different reasons,' Owen thought, as he watched Lucas, clad only in his tight underwear, crossing the room. 'Still, starving, is starving, no matter the reason.'

Lucas frowned in puzzlement as the doorbell rang again.

Belatedly, Owen realized he was naked. It wasn't possible for him to reach his clothes before the door opened, so he grabbed the pillow he had used on his make-shift bed and stood, holding it over his groin, wondering if he could possibly make it out of the room quickly enough to keep from embarrassing either Lucas or himself.

'Not possible,' he thought, determined to be as cool as possible, imagining what his mother would say if she knew he would be facing a person he didn't know, in the nude. He forced a swallow in a dry throat, determined to make the best of the situation.

'Sexy,' Owen thought as he watched Lucas pause a moment before answering the door to run his fingers through his sleep-spiked hair. He was a slender man whose buttocks nicely filled his white underwear. The muscles of his long legs and calves flexed with each step he took.

'It's a good thing I've got a pillow in front of me,' Owen thought, as Lucas reached for the doorknob. 'Lookin' at him is 'bout ready to make me hard.' He suddenly had an awful thought. 'Geez, I hope it's not his mother at the door!'

Lucas opened the door and Owen was relieved to see a man his own age instead of a woman, or worse yet, Lucas' mother. The man's eyes widened as he looked past Lucas and saw an obviously naked Owen, standing only a few feet away, covering himself with a pillow. He tried to smile at the stranger, but was afraid the expression might have looked more like a grimace.

"Bailey!" Lucas seemed surprised to see the person, but made no move to step aside and welcome him into the apartment. "I wasn't aware you knew where I'd moved . . . or that you might show up, uninvited."

"I wasn't sure you'd hear me knock," Bailey said in a sweet voice, looking Owen up and down. "It sounded like a party was going on." He dismissed Owen and returned his attention to Lucas. "I didn't expect you'd have a . . . naked . . . guest, on your first night in your new home." He raked Owen with another, appraising, look. "Even you don't normally act that fast."

Owen shifted from foot to foot, unsure how he might engineer an escape to the bathroom. For his part, Lucas was behaving as if the man standing in the hall was the last person he wished to have as a visitor.

Bailey rested a hand on Lucas' bare shoulder and smoothly oozed into the apartment. "Thank you for inviting me in," he cooed. "You always were such a stickler for good manners."

When Lucas had closed the door and turned back toward his guests, Bailey was studying Owen in the same way he would be examining a prize horse he might be considering purchasing.

Lucas cleared his throat. "Bailey, this is my friend, Owen." He stepped closer. "Owen, this is Bailey."

Owen held out a hand in greeting which Bailey shook, still studying him closely. 'It's strange,' Owen thought. 'Such a strong looking guy, with such a weak . . . and . . . damp, handshake.'

Bailey was a nice looking man, with short auburn hair and light colored eyes. He looked as if he had stepped out of a fashion magazine, without having ever sat down or done anything to cause his clothes to wrinkle or acquire an unplanned-for crease. The effect was not natural, but was calculated to impress.

'Hmm,' Owen thought, wishing he had something near by on which to wipe his hand, as Bailey continued to evaluate him. 'This guy can't possibly be a friend of Lucas'. Owen had to admit, Bailey was a nice looking man, but the effects of his muscular body were spoiled by his falsely-light voice and petulant expression.

'He's nothing but an actor,' Owen realized. 'I'm not going to applaud his performance. I wonder if Lucas will.'

"Aren't I your friend too, Lucas?" He almost pouted. "I mean, really . . . you've known me much longer than you've known . . . Owen, is it?"

Bailey flicked a glance at Owen who was now flushed red, whether from embarrassment or anger, Lucas couldn't tell.

'Well,' Owen thought, suddenly intent on outdoing this fop. 'He's not the only one who can put on an act. If he wants a show, I'll give him one.'

Owen smiled to himself as he slowly removed the pillow from his groin and turned to place it on top of a nearby box, flexing both the muscles of his firm buttocks, and his biceps, before extending both arms out to his sides and stretching, twisting slightly from side to side. He grinned at Lucas and winked, a signal of playfulness hidden from Bailey who had forgotten his act and was watching Owen's movements with wide eyes.

"I think I'll go take a shower," Owen drawled, scratching his groin as he strolled to his nearby bags. He first bent over, and then squatted as he unzipped one of the bags and pulled out a clean change of clothes. When he stood, both Lucas and Bailey were watching him, Lucas wearing a slight smile, and Bailey in open-mouthed, wide-eyed wonder. Owen gave them a sunny smile, and nodded acknowledgment in Bailey's direction before slowly walking toward the bedroom and the adjoining bathroom and shower, quietly whistling an off-key tune.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Lucas hissed, turning on Bailey the moment Owen disappeared from sight. "I would not have imagined even you would behave as rudely as you have."

Lucas shrugged away from Bailey's hug. "Don't you touch me!" He rounded on the astonished man. "Not only are you the rudest person I have ever met; you have got to either be deaf or unbelievably stupid." His voice had risen.

"Bailey, I told you that I wanted to be your friend, but that I couldn't be anything more than that. Apparently, I didn't use simple enough words for you to understand. So, here goes . . . again. For the last time.

"I did not invite you to my home. We may have grown up together, but I don't like you. I do not want to be your friend. In fact, I do not want to ever see you again. So . . . leave . . . now." Lucas opened the door.

"What I have just said translates to . . . get out of here, and don't come back . . . ever!"

"But," Bailey sputtered, turning from Lucas to look toward the bedroom, and then back at the man who stood by the open door, almost trembling with anger.

Lucas left the door and took the few steps toward Bailey, firmly grasping him by the upper arm. "There are no buts," Lucas muttered as he ushered him to the door. "Now, it's time for you to leave."

"You'll take that . . . person . . . over me?" Bailey's voice had risen.

"Owen is a friend, nothing more. He's a good friend, I might add. He's a good person, a concept you may have difficulty grasping."

"But, you and I . . ."

"There is no such thing as the two of us, Bailey. How many times do I have to tell you that? There never was. There never will be. So . . . get over it. Move on. Find someone who'll put up with your ego, because I certainly won't. Now, go!" Lucas closed the door gently and then turned his back and leaned against the door, tilting his head back and taking a deep breath which he exhaled slowly, puffing out his cheeks, cursing Bailey and what he'd done, and thought about Owen.

"You and your little boyfriend will be sorry, Lucas," he heard from the other side of the door. "You remember that. Nobody, tells me to leave!"

Owen leaned against the bedroom wall and bowed his head, listening to what the two men were saying. At first, he had felt guilty about eavesdropping, but when the voices became louder, he figured he would have heard them no matter where he had been in the apartment.

'Could I have been so wrong about Lucas?' He wondered, thinking back to how his host had seemed to welcome his touch. Now it seemed, Lucas was telling this Bailey person to get out of his life, apparently because he was gay. It didn't make sense. Why would Lucas welcome his attention and a moment later turn away Bailey's?

'He's better lookin' than me,' Owen thought. 'He's probably rich. He's got everything I don't have . . . except manners.' Owen made a face, thinking back to his own, just-completed performance. 'I didn't show too many manners, either, so who am I to judge someone else?'

He heard Lucas close the door, Bailey's muffled shouting, and then Lucas' murmured curse.

He bit his lip. 'I don't dare let Lucas know I'm gay. Not if I want to keep him as a friend, I don't.' He closed his eyes and sighed. Lucas' touch had felt so natural. Knowing that he would have to be on guard whenever he was around Lucas caused his sense of loneliness and isolation to return.

"Oh, Sam," he whispered, rubbing his eyes. "I so want to be holdin' you."

Lucas shook his head and then walked across the room to look at the leafy canopy of trees, picking up Owen's discarded pillow as he went. He leaned his head on the window glass and clutched the pillow to his chest.

His muddled thoughts were interrupted by Owen's soft voice. "I'm sorry if my bein' here upset your friend." Lucas could hear him inhale. "I also apologize for the little show I put on. It was uncalled for."

Lucas turned toward the voice. Owen stood in the bedroom door. He had slipped on a pair of tight white briefs, and was clutching a towel which dragged on the floor. "He's not a friend, Owen. We grew up together. That in itself, does not make him my friend." Lucas patted the top of a nearby box, inviting Owen to have a seat. "He seems to think of me as a friend, but I don't share the sentiment."

Owen lowered himself to the box, only inches away from Lucas. "Y'sure?"

Lucas wrapped an arm over Owen's shoulders, trying to reassure him. "Yes, I'm sure. You are a friend, Owen, never him. The way he behaved was unconscionable."

Owen leaned into the embrace for a moment and then seemed to catch himself, and sat up straight, pulling away from Lucas. He cleared his throat, puzzled at Lucas' hurt expression.

"Sounds to me as if he's like that rooster we were talkin' about a bit earlier. Not interested in the hens." Owen's wink and sly smile caused Lucas to lose his hurt look and snort a laugh.

"We can always hope a big macho buzzard appears to carry him off, I guess." They both chuckled, but the easy camaraderie they had shared before Bailey's arrival had been lost.

Sam absently brushed his hair away from his face, and looked up as the screen door opening onto the porch, squeaked. He shifted position, continuing to sit on the porch rail, but turning so he could see his father, who was slowly easing himself into a rocking chair. Sam grinned.

"Sorry I yelled at you the other night."

Henry Bridgers raised a tired hand, accepting the apology. "I understand. I shouldn't be tellin' you how to run your life. You're an adult." He studied his son. "Are you feeling better?" Sam shrugged, his hands hanging limply between his slightly spread legs, his feet dangling. He looked closely at his father.

"Are you feelin' okay, Dad? I mean, you don't look so good." Sam hopped off the wooden railing and sat next to his father.

"That's what I'm here to talk to you about," his father said. "Somethin's wrong. The doc doesn't know what, but thinks I need to go to the medical center in Dallas to see if they can figure things out." He leaned back in his chair and spoke in a gruff voice. "I hate doctors. Nothin' but bearers of bad news. Can't ever remember a doctor tellin' me anything good, other than when you was born." He paused, as if searching his memory. "Other 'n that . . . nothin'."

Sam sat forward, a stricken look on his face.

"The doc's gonna take your mother 'n me to the bus station. We're leavin' the car for you, if you need to get around."

"Surely you won't be gone long," Sam said, his alarm growing.

His father shrugged. "Who knows? You can deal with ol' Scott McKenzie. He can continue to use our land and pay us a share of whatever profits, just like he has been. This looks like it's shapin' up t'be a good year, so you should make a good bit."

"You're talkin' like you won't be comin' home!" Sam leaned forward and grasped his father's hands, feeling how frail they'd become. He realized he had been so wrapped up in his own problems, dealing with Owen's departure, that he'd failed to realize his father's failing health. "Don't go talkin' like that."

"The McKenzie's are good people," Henry plugged on. "So're Owen's folks, though the old man can be a bit pushy." He gave Sam a lopsided grin. "The house, the farm . . ." His father looked around, as if seeing his farm for the last time. "Everything's paid for, free'n clear, so no worries other'n taxes and things. You'll do okay."

He leaned forward and grasped Sam's shoulder, his hand trembling as he tried to convey some of his old strength. "You're a good boy, Sam. You can deal with whatever comes up." He took a deep breath.

"Your mother; she's gonna stay with her sister, so don't worry 'bout her. We'll do okay, too. You can always call your aunt to check-up on us."

"But . . ." Sam shook his head . . . at a loss. "But . . . you're gonna come home, aren't you? I mean, you're talkin' like I won't be seein' you again. Elsewise, why tell me all this stuff about taxes 'n stuff?" He sniffed.

"I'm just comin' to grips with losing Owen. I can't lose you 'n Mom too. That big medical center in Dallas'll just eat you up and spit you out. Those doctors don't care 'bout you.

"You're gonna be okay." Sam said, his voice rising. "You gotta be okay!"

He pulled away from his fathr's grasp and walked to the edge of the porch crossing his arms and bowing his head. He sniffed and then wiped his eyes on his forearm.

"You gotta come home, Dad." He turned around. "Please."

His father slowly stood and walked to where his son stood, silent tears coursing down his cheeks, and wrapped him in an embrace.

"I hope so, Sam."

Bailey felt the apartment door close, almost catching his heels. He'd been thrown out! Him! Bailey Wilkins! The thought was too much to bear. 'The nerve!'

He turned toward the door and shouted something, giving vent to his anger, and then turned and stalked down the corridor, heading for the elevator.

'Where'd Lucas find that incredible man?' he wondered, pausing a moment and glancing back toward his boyhood friend's apartment. 'I've never seen someone so uninhibitedly masculine.' A tingling thrill ran through his body as he pressed the elevator call button. 'I almost creamed my trousers when he bent over to dig some clothing out of those two rag-tag bags on the floor.

'Surely, Lucas wouldn't be hanging around with someone . . . poor.' Bailey had trouble even imagining someone not of what he referred to as his . . . class. Like Lucas, he had grown up surrounded by the luxuries money and privilege could buy. In fact, enrolling in the university at his parents' insistence, had been his first foray into a world of the middle class.

He knew such people existed, of course. They were all around. He'd never had to associate with them on a day-to-day basis though. He'd always found associating with such people . . . distasteful, and had never understood Lucas' willingness to ignore his place in society.

As he approached the doors to the apartment building's lobby, someone ahead of him held the door open for him. Bailey walked through, ignoring the person, and headed for his car.

'Maybe I should have a talk with Lucas and remind him of his social responsibilities.' He disregarded Lucas' no-nonsense statement that they should never see one another again.

'After all,' he thought, as he approached his gleaming blue sports car, parked diagonally across three parking places, to avoid being touched by another vehicle. 'After all, Lucas couldn't be serious. We've been good friends our entire life. Almost brothers,' he concluded. 'I've even had him a couple times.' The corner of his lips twisted. 'Not as good as I expected . . . but passable.'

He pursed his lips, pausing as another car pulled into a nearby parking space. 'I wonder what . . . What was his name? . . . Owen?' Bailey frowned at the unusual name. 'I wonder what this Owen-fellow is like in bed.'

Bailey gently cupped his crotch, careful not to disturb the crisp creases of his trousers. 'What beautiful buttocks!'

He made up his mind. 'I'll have him once, then Lucas can have him back, that is if he wants to go back to someone as plain as Lucas.' Bailey smiled to himself and then looked up, startled by someone nearby saying his name.

Allison parked her car, a frown still on her face. She sat back in her seat, one hand resting on the lever to open the car door. 'What's he doing here?' She shook her head and compressed her lips, followed a moment later by the thought that she must look just like her mother.

She immediately smoothed her expression. She and her mother got along fine, but Allison had no desire to emulate her mother's myriad facial expressions. 'I swear,' she thought. 'That woman can carry on an entire conversation and never open her mouth!'

There was no hope for it. Bailey was standing in her path . . . fondling his crotch? She grinned, wishing she had a camera to capture the unlikely image.

"Hello, Bailey," she said, thinking she might as well be civil. "Are you arriving or leaving?" She grimaced to herself. 'That wasn't very civil.' She could imagine her mother's pursed-lip reaction to her greeting.

"Hello, Allison," Bailey answered, removing his hand from his crotch and straightening, flashing her a toothy smile and slipping his designer sunglasses off, with the express purpose of letting her glimpse his aqua-colored eyes. He'd almost given up, correcting people who incorrectly called his eyes blue. "They're aqua," he would correct, always wondering at their baffled expression.

'He could be an orthodontist's poster-boy,' she thought, uncharitably. 'Too bad the smile never reaches his . . . aqua . . . eyes.'

"I'm departing," Bailey responded, causing Allison to want to roll her eyes as his choice of words. "I wanted to be the first to welcome your brother to his new residence."

"I'm sure Lucas appreciated your visit. Is he presentable?"

Bailey grinned. "Hardly presentable for a lady, I would say. But, yes . . . he's home."

"Good," Allison smiled, doing her best to behave herself. After all, Bailey had always been Lucas' friend, not hers. She never could stand him and his officious behavior. "I've seen my brother in every condition you might imagine, so I don't suppose whatever he is or isn't wearing, will bother me." Bailey raised his expressive brows, and then seemed to consciously smooth them, fearful that any wrinkle might become permanent. "I'll go visit him then," Allison concluded. "I've brought him some flowers as a housewarming gift."

Bailey studied the tissue-wrapped bouquet with barely concealed contempt. "Why, so you have."

"Bye then," she managed, ignoring an overpowering urge to ask him to bend over so she could push the roses, thorns and all, up his ass.

"Farewell," he responded, before his attention was caught by what might possibly be a piece of lint on his shirt. She turned her back on him, as he carefully brushed at his sleeve.

"I'm glad that's over," she sighed, as she approached the elevator lobby. A kind man held the door for her and returned her smile and acknowledged her, "thank you."

'Let's see; Lucs did say the fifth floor, didn't he? Apartment 10?' She shrugged, prepared to meet a stranger in their underwear, before she would call her brother and admit she didn't always pay attention to everything he told her.

She looked around as the elevator door opened onto the fifth floor elevator lobby. 'Not bad,' she thought, 'though a bit over-the-top-masculine.' She grinned at the allusion, and spoke aloud as she walked down the wide corridor, swearing it smelled like a locker room. "All the elevator lobby needs is a bunch of weights and a big mirror so all the guys can admire themselves." She chuckled. "Then, Bailey would feel right at home."

"Ah, here we are." She pressed the doorbell, hearing a distant chime, followed immediately by the sound of voices.

'Voices?' She thought to herself. 'Bailey didn't mention Owen having a guest.' She bit her lower lip. 'I hope I'm not interrupting something. Lucas doesn't get out nearly enough. I'd hate to come barging in on him at a delicate moment.'

Her brother opened the door. 'Well,' her first thought was. 'I was afraid some guy in his underwear would answer the door. 'Do guys never wear clothes?' She smiled brightly, ignoring his slight blush.

"Don't worry about the casual attire, Lucas. I've seen you wearing less." She ran a perfectly manicured finger over his chest. "Though, the last time I saw you dressed like this, you didn't have any hair on your chest. Are you going to invite me in?" He swallowed and gave her a slight nod.

"I've got a guest, Allison."

She stepped into the apartment. "I thought I heard voices. I hope I'm not interrupting anything." She handed him the flowers and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Congratulations on the new digs," she murmured before turning to greet her brother's guest.

She stopped dead, as a man, her brother's age and also clad in a pair of tight-fitting white underwear, stood. Apparently, he and Lucas had ignored the room's admittedly cluttered furniture, and had been using some of the packing boxes as chairs. The person was stunning, in a disheveled sort of way. His short blond hair was uncombed, and by the way his eyes kept straying toward what must be the bedroom, he appeared to be wishing he were anywhere but standing in front of a strange woman, wearing nothing but his underwear, and a fierce blush. She could almost see the panicked thoughts rush through his mind, until he finally gave up any hope of escape, and smiled, a bright, even smile, showing perfect teeth. The corners of his grey eyes crinkled into laugh lines, possibly amused at his situation.

'This man's smile,' she thought, comparing him with Bailey. 'This man's smile, reaches his beautiful eyes.' She couldn't help herself. She smiled brightly, instantly liking her brother's friend.

He wasn't overly tall, about the same height as Lucas, in fact, and his body could only be described as perfect. 'Where did Lucas find him; and more importantly, does he have a brother?'

She extended her hand and took the few steps separating them.

"Hi, I'm Allison, Lucas' sister," she spoke in a melodic alto. "I apologize for just dropping in, but I didn't expect my brother would have any company."

"Hi Allison, I'm Owen." His voice was a light tenor; his handshake was firm . . . masculine, and unlike whenever she'd had the misfortune to be touched by Bailey . . . dry. "I don't think Lucas was plannin' on entertaining, but he rescued me last night." She raised her eyebrows, imagining the scene.

'From the lake, the river, from in front of the train . . . what?' She wondered. 'This man does not look as if he'd ever be in need of rescuing.' She studied his mobile face, liking him more every minute.

'Now . . . about that brother.'

"I'd just arrived at the airport and was about at the end of my rope. Everything was so crowded, so new." He swallowed, reliving some of what he had been feeling at the time, and then glanced toward Lucas, a smile toying with his lips. "He offered to take me into town and let me spend a couple nights here while I find a place of my own. This is gonna be my first year at the university."

She remained captivated not only by the sheer masculinity of the man, but by the way he spoke.

"What a lovely accent you have," catching herself before she also complimented him on the pale dusting of freckles over his tanned nose. She sat on the box just vacated by her brother, noting the rumpled blanket and pillow lying nearby on the floor. 'Owen's bed?'

Owen sat on an adjoining box, looking for all the world like a dancer, the smooth skin of his chest and arms rippling over his muscles. She sighed to herself. 'This man positively exudes sensuality.' She grinned. 'Then again, it may be the effects of the underwear,' which was making her almost breathless. Her brother, unaware of her thoughts, perched uneasily across from them, fidgeting and glancing from his sister to Owen and then back again.

Owen blushed at the compliment. "I don't think of myself as havin' an accent. I'm just a guy from the hot and dusty, back of beyond, who's been dropped into the middle of a hugely strange place." He glanced toward Lucas, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes becoming more pronounced. "If Lucas hadn't come along, I'd probably still be at the airport." He paused. "Truly," he said, his smile widening.

"My brother is a good guy," she said, turning her smile on Lucas, who looked marginally less worried about what his impetuous sister might do.

"I think so too."

'Ooooh, the boy appears to be smitten! I wonder if Lucas realizes how much this guy idolizes him?' She flicked a glance at her brother, and silently sighed. 'Nope! Not a clue!'

"Well," she said, ready to change the subject before she drowned in Owen's wonderful grey eyes. She didn't think he'd appreciate having her throw herself shamelessly at him. Even though she knew it was useless to feel the way she did she couldn't ignore the sensual tingling which ran through her entire body.

"I'd be willing to bet that you guys haven't eaten anything, this morning. May I take you both out to breakfast?"

Owen's eyes brightened. "Food! Yes! Never turn down anyone offering food." He laughed, reaching out and playfully slapped Lucas on the back. "That's a lesson you should learn . . . skinny."

Lucas looked up and smiled. "Skinny, am I?"

"I always thought so," Allison added in a low voice.

"I'll show you who has some muscle," Lucas threatened, his voice reflecting his smile, while Owen chuckled, pretending to be intimidated.

"Oooh, macho, as well as skinny," Allison added.

"Let's accept your sister's invitation to get something to eat. After that, maybe you'll be strong enough so we can wrestle and settle this once and for all. There's another old saying. Never fight when you can eat!" Owen rubbed his stomach. "I'm thinkin' I'm 'bout ready to waste away. I haven't eaten anything since that piece of whatever it was, on the plane, yesterday."

He winked at Allison as he stood. "Thanks, Allison. I accept. Thank you." He nodded toward Lucas, who remained sitting on the packing box. "If skinny isn't hungry, the two of us will have a good time." He turned and trotted off toward the bedroom, his tight underwear clinging to the swell of his buttocks.

"My clothes are in here," he shouted, looking over his shoulder and pointing in the direction of the bedroom. "I left 'em when our last visitor was here." He disappeared into the bedroom.

"Last visitor?" Allison asked, uncertain whether she should mention having already encountered Bailey.

Lucas nodded, his lips compressed. "Bailey."

Allison made a face. "What happened?"

"I'll explain later." Lucas stood and followed Owen into the bedroom.

Owen's laughing voice immediately called out. "Hey! What's a guy gotta do to have a little privacy around here? You caught me with my pants down!"

"If you remember, I've seen it all already," Lucas said, a laugh in his voice, which caused Allison to grin. It was wonderful to hear her brother happy. He always seemed so serious, always wanting to help someone and always thinking of himself as not especially worthy of attention, or affection. She personally felt that was why he had jumped when Bailey had shown some interest in him.

Lucas never seemed to realize that he was a very handsome man. He had a wonderful smile, when he smiled, and his green eyes and long dark eyelashes would be as captivating as Owen's, if he allowed himself to relax. He had a very nice voice, slightly deeper than Owen's, and . . . she had to admit . . . he filled out his underwear very well.

'Down girl,' she told herself. 'Both of these men, no matter how good looking they are, are gay! And, one happens to be your brother.'

She smiled at Owen's laughing voice. Lucas must have made a snide remark, because Owen continued his teasing. "Ooooh. Ask me if I'm scared, Lucas? Can't you tell? I'm trembling in my . . . socks!" She heard a sharp smack.

"Hey, no hitting below the belt."

"He needs a good spanking, Owen," Allison shouted.

"And I'm the man to give it to him!" A moment later, Owen ran out of the room, carrying his shoes and laughing as he dodged a tennis shoe, wearing a bright blush on his cheeks.

"Touchy today, isn't he?" Allison asked, fascinated at how Owen was getting her normally staid brother to open up.

He looked up from tying his shoes. "I wouldn't know. I think he's probably a pretty serious kinda guy mosta the time. He's still a little bothered by the guy who showed up before you. A guy named Bailey, I think." She nodded. "Lucas told him to leave," Owen added, matter-of-factly.

"Good for him."

"You don't like this Bailey person, either?"

She shook her head. "He's trouble, Owen. Wherever he goes, trouble follows. No, I don't like him." She decided not to elaborate.

They both looked up as Lucas came back into the room.

Allison watched Owen walk to the front of the restaurant, and then rounded on her brother. "Alright, Lucas. No beating around the bush. Have you slept with him?"

"Owen?"

Allison nodded, leaning on the table.

"No. He's slept on the floor of the living room. I slept in the bedroom. I don't even know whether he's gay or not."

Allison rolled her eyes. "You don't know? Where is your gaydar? Of course he's gay." She shook her head. "I swear! You both are aching to jump into bed with one another, yet are too wrapped up in fear of what the other might say, to express what you're feeling."

"I thought you believed I slept with guys before even knowing their name," Lucas laughed. "Didn't you say something like that?"

"No, not quite. I told you, you should have avoided Bailey like the plague. Owen is a different story, entirely. He's a sweetheart. Speaking of Bailey," she continued, frowning.

"From what Owen told me, you must have done more than give him a mere hint to get lost." Lucas snorted agreement. "He saw Owen?" Allison asked.

Lucas shrugged and nodded, smiling. "He sure did, and what a show he got!" Allison gave him a questioning look, glancing aside to see if Owen might be returning. "Bailey showed up when Owen had only just awakened. He was naked." Allison smiled, imagining the sight.

"Well, stupid me, answered the door before Owen had a chance to leave the room. I tell you, Allison. Bailey treated Owen like so much horse flesh being examined by a discerning buyer." Lucas' smile brightened.

"But, Owen figured Bailey out pretty quickly. He was holding a pillow in front of himself, but when Bailey pretended to not even know he was in the room, Owen figured he could play the same game." Allison sat forward, leaning her forearms on the table.

"Tell me!"

"Owen dropped the pillow on the floor and sauntered over to where he had placed his bags. Bailey's eyes were bugging out. Then, Owen bent over and rummaged about in his bags, finally pulling out something to wear." Lucas laughed. "By then, Bailey was salivating. As Owen would say . . . truly." Allison smiled. "Then, he walked to the bedroom, giving Bailey a good show." Lucas grinned. "Well . . . me too, actually."

Allison leaned back in her chair and laughed, imagining the very proper Bailey, flustered. "Then you told ol' Bailey to get lost?"

Lucas nodded, rubbing his forehead. "Yeah, I did. I must admit, I was pretty rough on him. I don't really hate the man. He just seems to bring out the worst in me, and when he started treating Owen the way he did, it was too much to bear. I told him I wasn't his friend. I didn't want to see him again, and to get out of my apartment and never come back."

"I was proud that I didn't slam the door though." He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms in remembered aggravation.

"You realize, of course, that Owen idolizes you?" Lucas looked up, surprised. "You'd like him to be the one . . . wouldn't you? Even after one night, that's what I can see you wanting." He gave her another lazy shrug, not looking up from his dessert, which was liquifying on its plate.

He was making lines with his fork through the thick cream, left to right, and then back. He gave her a sad grin. "Yeah, that's what I'd like, though I doubt what I would like will have any bearing on what actually happens."

He changed directions with his fork, front to back, creating a crosshatch pattern. "I really like him. There's a charming naivete about him. There's no pretense." Lucas inhaled and slowly released his breath. "It's . . . refreshing, after the people we grew up with."

She nodded, looking down at her own unfinished dessert. "Sort of makes one look at one's self in a different light, doesn't it?" She glanced to the front of the restaurant to see if Owen was returning. "I'm hoping that, in his eyes, neither of us comes away looking like Bailey." She shivered, her smile brightening as Owen returned to the table and sat down.

"Did I miss anything exciting?"

"No," Allison said. "I was just dissecting my dear brother's love life."

Owen seemed puzzled by Lucas' frown and tightening of his lips.

"Love life?" He prompted.

"Or lack of it," Lucas added, closing the subject. Allison looked from her brother to Owen and smiled when she saw Owen watching her.

They had said good-bye to Allison, after a whirlwind tour of the university campus and the surrounding neighborhood with both Lucas and his sister pointing things out. They even drove him past a few apartment buildings, suggesting good places for him to search for an apartment. He cringed, thinking how high the rent might be, compared with his meager budget.

When he mentioned needing to look for a job on campus, Allison promised to put him in touch with a friend of hers at the main library.

She had even kissed him on the cheek as they got out of the car, after instructing Lucas to take good care of him.

'I'm missin' something,' he thought, as he helped Lucas shift some of the packing boxes in the living room, until they were both exhausted.

"I'm going to take a nap," Lucas yawned, and then nodded to the telephone. "Why don't you give your folks a call and let them know that you've arrived okay?"

Owen carried the cell phone to the far wall of the living room and sat on the floor, absently running his hands over his bare chest. 'I'm callin' Sam,' he thought to himself. 'If he's not home, I'll call the parents.'

He had spent much of the previous night thinking of Sam, now he suddenly felt shy, embarrassed that he was having such a good time, when Sam was most likely miserable. He dialed the number.

"Sam!" He almost shouted. "How's my favorite guy in the whole world?" He wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. It had been less than two days since they'd last held one another, yet he ached to have Sam in his arms, and to feel Sam's arms around him.

"Yeah, I got here in one piece, though I haven't found a place of my own yet. Everything is so different, Sam . . . so big, so crowded. I don't mind tellin' you, I was scared, and have been wishin' you were with me." He laughed. "Together, you and I can face anything. Alone, I feel like a puppy who's can't find its mama." His voice broke. "I miss you Sam . . . so much. I hurt inside, wishin' I could hold you."

He attempted to gather his emotions as Sam spoke.

"Yeah," he answered. "I've got a place to stay, for a few days. I met another university student who offered to let me stay at his place until I find a place of my own. In fact, I'm using his phone to call you." He huffed a laugh.

"We're five floors up, Sam! And, there's gotta be at least ten or more floors on top of us! And, there's a big park across the street, with lots of trees and grass, and stuff. Oh, and a big fountain, and a bandshell, like the one in the park back home!

"I miss you Sam," he said, trying to control the shaking in his voice. "Tell me what's happened there. Anything new?"

Sam told him about the argument he'd had with his father, and how he'd spent the night in their meadow alongside the river.

They talked for a few more minutes, of nothing in particular, falling into the easy camaraderie they had shared their entire life. He laughingly told Sam of sleeping on the living room floor, and how a person couldn't see the stars because of the bright lights of the city. But, most of all, he told Sam how much he loved him, and missed him.

"Well," Owen finally said. "Since I'm using Lucas' phone, I probably better be callin' it quits for today. Most likely, I'll be writin' you from now on. Things are so expensive here, I'm not sure how I'm gonna make ends meet.

"Well," he repeated, when he heard Sam sniffing. "Like I said, I'd better say bye for now." He lowered his voice, willing it not to crack. "I'm thinking about you all the time, Sam, and lovin' you every minute. I . . . I wish I could kiss you, but since I can't . . . I'll kiss the picture you gave me."

His sniffing joined that of his friend. "Bye, Sam. Take care of yourself. Wish your father well, for me."

Neither wanted to be the first to hang up. Finally, he murmured into the telephone receiver. "I love you, Sam . . . always," and hung up, kissing his fingertips and pressing them to the phone as a tear rolled down his cheek.

~To be continued~

Thank you for taking the time to read my work. I always welcome your email and enjoy hearing your thoughts. If you would like me to send you a pic of the character(s), please ask.

My other stories on Nifty include: Phalen (located in the Gay College Section) Phalen - Finding Happiness (Gay College Section) Chris (Gay College Section) Leith (Gay College Section) Owen (Gay College Section Wesley (Adult Relationships Section) Jess (Soon to be in the Gay Incest Section)

I hope you enjoy them all.

Roy Reinikainen roynm@mac.com