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Give till it hurts...and if that's not enough, get with some s&m!
the SoL0 series continues...
'SoL0 SuMmER BrEAk' o1
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
"You've got to be the luckiest guy I know, Gio."
"Yeah, I really know how to treat a buddy, eh?"
Tomer loved Gio's 'modesty', but not so much the slap of fingertips to his gut, being he had just applied suntan lotion.
"Gio!"
"What?" Gio turns to his buddy, tipping the shades from the bridge of his nose.
Viewing Tomer reapplying lotion to his tummy, "if I burn, it's gonna be your fault!"
Gio, replacing the shades back in place, had a wicked thought, sitting on the edge of his lounge chair and playing 'bongos' on Tomer's stomach!
"Yeah, that's okay buddy. I can take the heat!"
Gio laughs as Tomer remains silent.
Much has happened over the past spring, what with shifting relationships, but what has remained true, is Tomer finding an affection for Cian. Of course, Gio, again showing that charitable modesty, accredits himself to them meeting up in his home darkroom!
There they both sit in lounge chairs, lotioned up, their bods glistening on the private beach of a residence on Long Beach Island, a place whereas if Gio had hocked the family fortune, it would not even be a down payment on this piece of real estate.
One afternoon at his family restaurant, two years ago, a client happened to be arguing with his son at a table, which brought Gio over, intentions of quieting them down, "uh, excuse me there, Senor Cachaza?"
An acquaintance of the owner, Senor Cachaza stands when he recognizes the restaurateur, "Gio, how are you?"
His young son looks up at probably one of the hottest men he's ever laid eyes on, hoping he gets an introduction and sure enough does!
"This is my son," Cachaza always used the formal when identifying family members, "Joao Oliveira Cachaza."
Slowly Joao rose up from this seat, but in doing so, tugs at the table cloth.
Both he and Gio jump to rescuing the whole contents from teetering over onto the floor, which winds up with Gio bearhugging the younger Cachaza, one arm each steadying the cloth, "that was a close one."
Joao doesn't say anything, just looks up at their bearded host, a smile on his face, till he decides he better be grateful, "thanks."
Going around to the other side of the table, both to smooth out the disarray of china, flatware, spilled wine, plus the ticking timebomb under his apron, Gio says, "you're very welcome, Joao."
They lock eyes, until the father says, "Joao, this is Gio Bonomolo, master chef of this fine establishment."
Gio acknowledges the elaborate introduction, even though he never got past how not to overcook pasta, "very pleased to meet you, Gio."
Cachaza knew awhile back, his son being 'gay', with no opposition, proud his son could make a choice of being the man he wanted to be. That is, long as he kept it under wraps. Their disagreement today extends in the opposite direction.
"Gio, please, settle a dispute we are having?"
'Oh no,' Gio thinks inside his head, 'another gay question', thinking of why Cachaza thought of him as an open book when it came to anything 'gay', but shying away from it, "yes, what can I get your for dessert?"
"No, no, no, nothing of that. What I would like to know, what would think of a closeted, gay man, living his whole school life, coming out at graduation, by inviting another man to go with him to the prom?"
In the several years he's known the elder Cachaza, Gio has set up a counseling service in his restaurant office, off the books, to cater young men in search of answers, of which he has already taken the question from Joao, unknown to the father he has already met the junior member of the family.
Having already mulled it over, Gio says, "does Joao have a guy in mind?"
By the surprise look on the elder Cachaza's face, mouth left opened, it's then Gio realizes what he's said, singling out Joao and not some fictitious character the father has picked out of thin air.
"You know Joao is gay?"
With contorted lips, as much as to say, 'oops', Gio tries repairing the situation, "it's normal for a gay man to seek out a likewise source for consulting with."
He hoped this would swim and not sink.
However, showing his father he could be manly, Joao speaks up, "it's not Gio's fault, father. I said something to him, before he even spoke to me."
Not understanding the way of gay, Cachaza says, "how could that be?"
Unabashed in any way, Joao says, "Gio never had to say anything to me. Deep down inside I had this feeling and about three years ago I couldn't hold it in any longer and had to go public with him."
At first his father acts angry, his face reflecting it, "and you could not come to your father?"
Placing a hand on his father's shoulder, Joao says, "all these years you have respected me for who I am, even though we have kept it secret. I am sorry that I could not totally confide in you, that I had to with Gio."
Gio goes to bat for the younger Cachaza, "it helps that a young man in Joao's position has someone who is like him, to turn to, in time of need. I think I've put that right?"
Accepting of so much, which since Joao had turned fifteen, his father hugs his son, "thank you Gio for being a friend."
"You're welcome sir. Now, how about that dessert?"
Two years later, on the beach, Gio is still thinking of his brilliant plan, setting up Marco to escort young Joao to his senior high school prom. He breathes easy, steady, thinking of how many times Marco has thanked him for bringing Joao into his life, even though there's a twenty-something year age gap.
Typical, Gio's buddy questions him, "let me guess. You're thinking of 'him' again?"
Proud of his achievement, of making yet another gay couple happy, Gio says, "how can you tell?"
"One," Tomer shares, "you never shutup about how your responsibility in bringing Marco and Joao together and second, the hand?"
"Oh shit!"
Gio then realizes how, in dreaming too much, his hand has wandered down to his pubes.
Tomer smiles, saying, "who brought that on, Joao or your brother?"
He reminds his friend, "half-brother?"
"Half, whole, who cares, Marco and you have the same blood running through your veins."
"Yeah," Gio smiles, "all the way down to where it hurts if I don't get a blowjob soon?"
"It's like, a private beach, Gio. Look around, there's no one that's coming to your rescue and, don't even think about me."
It's then, over the back of their chairs they hear, "hi guys."
Tomer is quick to jump on it, "and definitely not Cian!"
However, not only Cian, "could have a fight to the finish, with the two he's toting along with him?"
From medium-sized dots at where the sand starts, breaking away from the spacious beach home, owned by the Cachaza family, coming closer they change from tall, slender guys to full size.
Gio recognizes his half-bro, "it's Marco," he gets up out of his chair.
Even though a private beach, it wasn't always private, the ability of joggers to jog through.
"Uh, Gio?" Tomer says in a cautioning tone.
"Oh shit!"
When Gio stood, he didn't realize the obvious, his skimpy speedo lying on his pubes for effect, falling off into the sand, when standing, his hard shaft laid waste to the ocean breeze.
Picking it up, as the trio approaches, it didn't lend much to hiding his hard on.
"Really, Gio?" Marco greets his half-bro and as it stands, best bud.
"You got a minute, Marco?"
As blood-bro, they've been through a lot of years of intimacy, but since Marco has paired up, much of the beyond-brotherly-love has evaporated.
"Um, forget it, Gio. I'm a married man now?"
"I thought the divorce went through?"
"Second marriage. To a man, dah?"
Of having to miss that special occasion, Gio is forever apologetic, "yeah, I'm so sorry I couldn't make it, but you know the problem I had getting a passport?"
Marco stiffens his reapproach, "yeah, well if you had tried the usual procedures to gain a temporary passport, instead of offering your dick, you might have made it to Brazil?"
As they part the brotherly hug, Gio says, "haven't I been punished enough?"
Marco cheerfully says, "it's like me and s&m, never enough!"
Gio follows Marco over to where Cian, Tomer and the other hot guy stands.
"Hey Gio," Cian gives him a quick hug, "this is Joao."
Before he could rattle off the official name, Gio is astounded by the fact before him, a full grown young man, even though it's been two years, "this can't be, you're Joao Oliveira Cachaza?"
Okay, granted he didn't have the short-cropped beard hugging his chin, partially up the sides of his cheeks and the fuzz on his bod, "yeah, I've grown some, eh Gio?"
They hugged, until Marco thought they had enough bodily time stuck together, "okay, that's enough Gio," he pries them apart.
"Oh my god, Marco, you never said this was 'my' Joao?"
"You never asked. Besides," Marco acts as devilish as Gio, "it's pricelss seeing your reaction!"
Not only of his own flesh and blood, Gio blames, "really Joao, after all the advice I gave you?"
Becoming bold over the past two years, with some of his own gay-therapy, Marco says, assuming position of a melancholy stringed musician, "shall we bring on the violins?"
Gio turns his wrath on his half-brother, "y'know, Marco, you suck at playing the violin?"
Even though a sunny, 85-degree day, in the full sunshine, Cian breaks the ice, "I don't know about you, but I'm ready to make use of one of these lounge chairs!"
He chooses the one next to Tomer, followed by Joao next to him, Marco on the far side. There was another 'empty' next to Marco, so Gio uproots himself and replants his butt in the vacant one.
"I should give you a good thrashing, Marco."
"I'm afraid those days are gone, Gio."
"What? You've given up on darkroom play?"
Marco smiles, "yeah, except in the dark bedroom with Joao."
"I still can't believe it, a forty year old man with a teenager!"
"Forty-two and Joao, he's twenty, and a college man, may I remind you?"
Gio had already known Marco had married young, coming back from Brazil with a younger groom, "well, I can't say I totally approve, but happy for you."
He half-lifts his butt out of the lounge chair, Marco with audacity to say as he gives Gio a pec on the cheek, "and oh," he sits back down, "frankly, my dear," he partially quotes from 'Gone With The Wind', "I don't really give a shit about your approval?"
It didn't rile Gio up, rather made him smile, glad that at forty-two years old his halfblood had grown a pair of balls, patting him on the arm, "I just need more time to process, I guess."
"Well, one good thing, Gio?"
"What's that?"
"Our talking it out has made the bulge in your speedo subside?"
"Dammit, Marco!"
As thing go, the three young guys hung together, swimming.
Gio, getting out of his chair, "well I gotta get up and stretch," he does so, eagle-spreading his bod.
Marco follows, doing the same stretch, then says, "well, I better head back to the house to take a leak. Wanna come?"
"What about the boys?" Gio refers to the young trio playing in the ocean.
With a wink, Marco says, "we can make it a quickie!"
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% Copyright 2023 T. Chase McPhee
Developing segments of 'SoL0 SuMmER BrEAk' may not be amended, distributed, sold, used, quoted, paraphrased, chopped, sliced, diced, nor made part of any collection, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the author. Drones are prohibited from overhead viewing.
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