Road Trip

By T. Chase McPhee

Published on May 9, 2008

Gay

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, nor governmental areas, which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offences 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. This is fiction. Use protection, in real life.

ROAD TRIP losers and winners wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

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Second day in a row, one of Robbie's linguistic classes had a sign hanging up on the door, `cancelled'.

"Like we're paying big bucks for nothing?"

"Topher! How's it going man?" Robbie turned, standing face to face with his fellow classmate.

"It's going," Topher replied, not too enthused.

Nodding towards the door, the sign, Robbie inquires, "I was heading over to the hospital after class. Want to take a ride?"

"Sure," the eighteen year old agrees.

Keying the ignition, they head out of the university parking lot, Robbie getting a hand wave from Adam, manning the security booth. For a few moments the cab of Robbie's Uplander is silent except for the hum of the engine and two guys breathing.

"So what's on your mind?" Robbie asks, turning off College Drive, onto the Cedar Ridge Road, the main drag.

"I don't want to burden you with my problems, Robbie."

"Maybe I want to be burdened." He hints Topher, stepping on the gas after the only light on Cedar Ridge, the crossroad leading to the interstate. "That is if I'm not prying."

"You're not prying." Still with an edge to his attitude, Topher says, "Other than you there's nobody I know who I feel comfortable talking with."

"Is that so?" Robbie replies, paying attention to the traffic ahead, brakes lights coming on in succession til they reach him. Given the time, he looks over to Topher, seeing him in a different light, the dark mood showing on his face, totally unlike the mood when he gave him a lift. "The longer you hold your worries inside, the more it's going to eat at you, Toph."

"Hey, I'm the psych major here," he say more uplifting, then sinking back down, "not that I chose to be."

"Oh, so somebody else... your parents maybe, are pressing you into a career you don't want to pursue?"

"You better go," Topher alerts Robbie to the car spacings in front of him, traffic moving along.

After letting up on the brake, Robbie replies, "Thanks."

Without pressure, Topher gripes, "My life is such a screwed up, complicated mess." Then as Robbie turns into Eskridge General, "Yeah, this is what I need alright. Do they have a mental ward?"

Sensing something deeper than he can handle, Robbie replies, "I'm sure they have qualified professionals if it has come to that."

"I don't know," Topher sighs, exhaling with the cut off engine, as they pull into a parking lot space.

Lifting the lid of Topher's baseball cap, Robbie strongly suggests, "C'mon. Let's see what we can find out."

Still bonded to his seat by the belt, Robbie takes his leave, walking around to the passenger side, opening the door. He holds it open for a moment, then says, "Y'know there are better ways with handling problems. The easiest way out is not always the best choice."

A hand to Topher's face, running down from forehead to chin, suddenly reveals tear stains down his cheeks.

Rapidly, Robbie's heart starts beating, thinking his inner thoughts and presumptions could have been correct, Topher being so deeply rooted in his own problems, the only out being terminating himself. Reaching over him, Robbie unclicks the seatbelt. It zips across Topher's lap and rescinds to its hiding place. "C'mon, bud," he slowly helps his classmate out of the SUV. When his feet hit ground, a natural occurance, they embrace, Topher now weeping.

Between the tears, Topher confesses, "I... I never knew anybody... never had somebody I could talk to like you, Robbie."

Kicking the door shut, Robbie slung Topher's arm over the back of his shoulders, the other around his waist, as if his bud was drunk. "We're gonna get you some help, so don't you worry." Robbie's empathetic feelings were showing through, a natural instinct to help out a guy in trouble.

When they entered through the emergency doors, on his way out, Anthony asks, "What happened to your friend?" His attention swerved back and forth from Robbie to Topher.

"I got him," Robbie said, Anthony turning and walking with them to the interior.

"What do you need?" Anthony asked.

"A behavior health professional, if they have one handy," Robbie spoke for Topher.

Not too often has Anthony pawned his father's kindness, regarding donating a wing to the hospital, but lots of times it's worked the other way around, him having a sort of `prestige' when sighted at Eskridge General.

"Can I help you Mr. Torricelli?" the attendant inquires, folding his `Instinct' magazine in half, looking alert to his duties.

As if a doctor, Anthony orders up, "We need a psychiatrist, stat!"

"One sec," he said, glancing to Topher as he picks up the phone.

While cluing Topher in his swimming coach, Robbie doesn't totally ignore the cover of the `Instinct' magazine, plus the guy who was reading it, the same nurse whom he met attending to Barry, Rashid Yacouba.

Reading from the computer, Rashid switches from phone to screen, then back to the phone, punching a button then paging, "Dr. Kiiski to the emergency desk." Then he repeated himself before telling them, "Dr. Kiiski is a practicing physician on staff here. If it wasn't his first day, you would probably have to wait til Dr. Monroe gets here."

"Someone needing my help?"

Silence prevailed as heads turned to the far side of the desk. Most likely only Topher and himself heard it, as Robbie mouthed, "Wow."

Putting business before pleasure, Anthony says, "This man," though he wasn't sure the teen measured up to a man at this point, but let the title hang, "needs medical attention."

"And you are?" Dr. Kiinski sideswipes Anthony, taking Robbie's hand.

"It's not me. Him," Robbie passes the honor of touching the blond, Danish bombshell's hand, though at this moment he wishes he were the patient.

Right away, Kiinski detects something terribly wrong with Topher upon greeting him with a handshake. Not letting go, he looks over his shoulder, telling Rashid, "Admit Mr...."

Robbie offers, informing not only Rashid, but also Dr. Kiinski and Anthony, "Cristan. Topher Cristan."

Even though the picture of a serious, caring attitude portrayed Dr. Kiinski at this moment, he did manage to crack a little smile, staring at Topher, but adding direction, "Rashid, admit Mr. Cristan, please."

"The psychiatric wing?"

"Not at this time, but make sure there is an empty bed just in case, will you?"

"Yes, sir," Rashid replied, setting up a file on his computer.

Robbie and Anthony glanced at one another, both aware of the fact Dr. Kiinski and Topher still grasped each other's hand.

"We're going to take good care of you here, Mr. Cristan," Dr. Kiinski offered, moving to Topher's right side, relieving Robbie of his task, ushering his friend into the hospital. Placing his left arm behind Topher, a hand to the back of his left shoulder, he leads him away from the desk, moving between it and Anthony. "Excuse me...."

"Anthony Torricelli," he says.

"And I'm Robbie Sinclair," Robbie gets his dibs in.

"Mr. Torricelli, sir. Yes, it is indeed a pleasure to meet you," Dr. Kiinski replied, though not breaking his hold on Topher to add the formal greeting. Robbie got a nice little smile from the doctor.

Over his computer, Rashid bellows, "Room 24."

"That's Barry's room!" Robbie exclaims.

Kiinski turns back to Rashid and asks, "Don't we have an empty?"

"Sorry sir, but with the bus accident day before yesterday, we're up to our necks in little kids."

"Bus accident?" Anthony questioned Rashid.

While the swim coach chatted with the desk nurse, Robbie excused himself with, "I'm going to check up on Barry."

"I better too," Anthony abruptly ended his conversation with a short version of the elementary bus school accident.

"But I thought you were on your way out, Mr. Torricelli?"

"I was!" Anthony replies, heading around the desk, disappearing into the hallway.

Rashid just smiled, knowing why Anthony decided to remain. After all, Rashid couldn't put down another gay man for noticing' the new eyecandy around the hospital. He grinned thinking of when Dr. Kiinski entered the hospital this morning. With introductions, he was glad he stood behind the counter, his boner poking at the underside of the wooden fortress surrounding him. He reminisced of the latter half of the Instinct' magazine, an article depicting some men dressed up in leather, some masters, others slaves. He fantasized of Dr. Kiinski decked out in chaps, boots and harness, tearing his codpiece open and him on his knees taking care of his hefty tool.

"Rats!" Robbie said, entering the door to room 24 after Dr. Kiinski drew the curtain, dividing the room in half, hiding himself and Topher behind it.

"Robbie! Did you see?"

"I saw... I saw," he said, walking over to the side of Barry's bed. With a look of wanting to know, Robbie says, "That's my friend Topher. Remember I told you I gave him a lift?"

"Cute, but who's the doctor? I haven't seen him around here before."

As Robbie is filling Barry in, Anthony invites himself in. Being a smart aleck, he says, "Won't it be nice being with Dr. Kiinski behind the curtain?"

Quite seriously, at least it seemed so, Barry tells him, "And what would Roberto say to that?"

Robbie giggled, Anthony seriously trying to lie his way out of that one!

After Robbie explained about Topher, Robbie says to Barry, "Nice of you coach to stop by and see you."

Not meaning to make a federal case out of it, Barry renders, "Oh well, if he didn't bring Edwin in to the emergency room, he probably would have never stopped in!"

Anthony pleaded on the mercies of the court, stating he would have make a trip at the end of his work day.

In the mean time, Robbie asks, "What happened to Edwin?"

"I don't believe they have to keep him overnight because he got his hand caught in a hurdle," Anthony fills them in.

"Wow! That could've been me!" Barry replies.

They both laugh out loud when Anthony states, "It could've been his dick!"

Of course they wanted to know all the details of how Edwin, preparing the cart in the shed, had a guy bent over an open hurdle and how it gave way, the guy up front getting one helluva fuck when the two fell forward, Edwin's hand getting sandwiched in between the folding hurdle.

"Not funny," Anthony curbed their laughter. "The boy could've lost his fingers. Yep, he's a very lucky young man."

"I guess," Robbie covered for the two of them as they regained their sanity.

Breaking from the threeway conversation, Robbie skirts around the edge of the bed, confronting Dr. Kiinski as he opens the curtain. "How's Topher doing?" he asks, seeing his friend laying calmly on the bed. "Hmm... what did you do to him?"

"Just talked a bit. Uh, would you keep an eye on him for a minute," Dr. Kiinski said, adding, "Seems like the only person in the world he can trust is you."

"Me?" Robbie replied, his thumb pointing to his chest.

In response, the doctor replied, "Good thing you brought him in. I hate to think what the recourse might have been." Looking over to Topher, his buttoned down shirt rising and falling to the air rapidly inhaling and exhaling, Kiinski says, "You're a real hero. Be back in a jiffy."

As Dr. Kiinski leaves, Barry yells out, "Hear that coach? Robbie's a hero!"

"I hear," Anthony says, adding, "but he won't be such a hero if we don't get moving back to Applegate. Swim practice," he reminds Robbie, looking at him.

Silence comes over the room, until Barry dictates, "A hero deserves a break once awhile, doesn't he coach?"

"I've been to every practice," Robbie responds, defending himself, "I've never missed a competition."

Cracking a smile, Anthony says, "I suppose one absence would not matter to a champion of your status."

Both thanked Anthony as he took leave. Later on he `forgot' to fill in Robbie's absence in his planbook.

"Hey Robbie, you better go see what happened to Doc Kiinski."

His gaze took him away from Topher, to look upon his lover. "Okay, but you better come over here and sit by him."

With some moans and groans Barry manages to sit up on the edge of the bed. "I think I'm getting better."

"I think not," Robbie took the upper hand. "Back to bed."

"I know," Barry came up with the perfect solution. "See that red thingy?"

Robbie walked over to the wall, to where Barry pointed. "This?"

"Give it a push. Somebody'll come running."

Sure enough, after Robbie's thumb deployed the red button, a muscled guy comes rushing in.

"What's the emergency?" he barks out, two hefty pieces of hospital machinery dangling from each hand.

For the second time this afternoon, Robbie is mouthing the astounding word, "Wow!"

Right away he singles out Robbie, singling out Robbie, setting the equipment down and walking towards him.

"I told him to do it, Travis," Barry informs him.

"You know him?" Robbie asks Barry, looking to the side.

Not even sensing the approach of the fat-bicepped nurse, Robbie gasps when Travis takes hold of his scalp, snaps Robbie's head back, face-to-face says, "What's the meaning of this boy?"

Of course Robbie, caught by total surprise, yet intrigued by being talked down do, especially by a muscle stud, fell right into the cross from reality to fantasy, replying, "Um... for no reason sir?"

However, Barry wasn't too keen on it, whether fantasy or not. With his blood boiling, he slings the sheet aside, hops out of bed gives Travis good warning, but without waiting, tosses his foot up into Travis' pubes.

"Ooooooh fuckin' sheet!" Releasing Robbie's head, he turns, bows to the door holding his big balls in both hands. "Fuckin' damn it Barry!"

All Robbie could do is stand there, trying to figure out who hurt the most, as Barry slowly hobbles back to his bed. "Oh shit!" he responds to seeing the trail of blood, a line painting the floor. "Now look what you went and did!"

As Robbie helped Barry back to the bed, helping him sit on the side, he yells to Travis, "It couldn't have hurt that bad. He didn't even have shoes on!"

"Move aside..." Travis delayed, but for effect, said to Robbie, "boy."

Standing there, helpless, he watched as Travis put pressure on Barry's foot.

"Um, think instead of being useless you can go get some help?" he addressed Barry.

Barry tore into Travis with, "He was being helpful in the first place, you big baby, so go find your own help!"

"Here," Travis instructed Robbie, "put some pressure on this."

Then giving Robbie the once over, said as he left, "I'll be right back."

As Robbie leaned on Barry's foot, blocking the flow of blood outward pretty well, he inquired, "So you know this Travis guy?"

"Yup. We got to talking this morning. He's a cool guy. Y'know he's into bdsm?"

"No. Really? I wonder where he got the idea I was?"

Looking up into Barry's face, he could see the angelic look.

"Um, I didn't mean to say anything. I know how you said to keep it a secret."

He couldn't be angry at Barry even if he was acting. Instead, he posed the question to his lover, "Kind of nervy of you to kick Travis in the balls? Were you acting or was it the real thing?"

"I was really mad at Travis. Especially after this morning."

"Why? What happened this morning?"

"Nothing much," Barry replied, "except after I told him..."

Seeing Barry reluctant to tell about breaking his oath of secrecy, Robbie says, "It's obvious he knows about me now, so?"

"I told him about you going to the party, but I didn't mention names. Except you and Tino."

"Oh, so you dragged Tino into this too?"

"It wasn't any secret to Travis. He said he knew Tino from med school."

"They both attended the same college?" Robbie questioned, dividing his attention between Barry's foot and conversation.

"Right. He said he knew all about Tino and playing that bdsm fantasy game stuff."

"And?"

"Nothing. He asked me if you liked doing it. I told him yes. After I told him what you told me about what Tino did to you at the bdsm party, he asked me if he could meet you."

Robbie, more excited over the prospects of Travis' muscled grip on his scalp, asks, "So what else did he say?"

"He asked me for permission to play with you."

"Way he talks, sounds like you're the master and I'm the slave!"

"Yeah, but I told him I don't make a good master. I'm not the image. He said I didn't look like it. See? I'm not the only one who thinks so."

"Oh really? A few minutes ago one would never be able to tell the difference." Then Robbie chuckled, saying, "Imagine you, taking on that big muscled brute, kicking him where the sun don't shine, almost driving him to his knees!"

It did make Barry smile.

"So, is that it?"

Even though the bleeding had stopped, their conversation did not. "Almost. In a roundabout way Travis was getting at the possibilites of playing with you."

"Really?" Robbie's eyes lit up.

"I told him okay, but he has to ask me first."

"Of course, sweetheart. After all, you're my master!"

The two exclaimed glances, each rolling a kiss off their lips, to be met in thin air.

Then Barry confesses, "That's what got me ticked off. He knew he did wrong, grabbing your hair."

Right after saying it, the two turned to the door as brutish Travis says in a mellow tone, "Barry, I got a big apology due you. I hope you'll forgive my tresspassing with your..."

"Slaveboy?" Robbie filled in the blank, exchanging smiles with Travis.

Furthering his apology, Travis offers Barry, "When you get back on your feet you and I will get together and settle the score, okay?"

"It doesn't matter," Barry responds.

Robbie asks, "Am I missing something here?"

First looking at Travis, then at Robbie, still bent on one knee, Barry states, "It's not cool for a master to do wrong to another master. What Travis is saying is I get to punish him."

"That would prove interesting," Robbie said, looking up at Travis, a vision of the perfect master.

"But instead, it might be cool if Travis shows you some weightlifting stuff at the gym!"

Standing, Robbie now on Travis' level, he responds, "Might be cool."

"Could prove to be very cool," Travis agrees, arms folded across his big pecs, the short sleeves of his hospital scrubs almost ready to burst from pressure put on them by his biceps.

"But no fooling around unless you ask," Barry said, sensing more could happen then a few pushups and crunches.

"Sweat to God," Travis promised.

Barry kidded, threatening, "Or I'll get Tino after you!"

"Oh no, no, no... as you can already tell, I'm not into pain from the catcher's standpoint!"

It gave food for laughter, Robbie saying he would still like to get in some swim practice. He was very surprised when Travis, in the middle of caring for Barry's foot, stopped, reached up, offered a handshake, along with, "I'll be looking forward to getting together and having some fun with you, Robbie!"

"Yes, sir," Robbie replied, a squeeze to his handshake, secretly acknowledging his offer.

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2B continued...

Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection without prior written permission, by the author.

Next: Chapter 48: Helping Hand


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