John

We had dinner together Friday evening, but Farr begged off doing anything more. He'd spent the day organizing his work shop, and after putting in a couple of weeks of ten to twelve hour days, he was nearing exhaustion. So I went home alone.

In the past, I rather relished having my big old Victorian lady to myself in the evening. But now, the house felt empty, like its spirit had stepped out for the night. My big bed, where I loved to sprawl, was feeling too big... too empty... and so lonely. I stared at the dark ceiling missing my little guy, wondering if it was too soon to ask him to move in with me.

Saturday, we were going on to another job and I had spent the morning making sure we had everything needed to complete it. I stopped by Farr's around one o'clock to see how he was doing, and ended up taking him out to lunch. It was nearly three when we got back to his shop. I tried to convince him to take the rest of the day off, but he insisted he had to get a chandelier finished before he could stop. I thought I was driven, but Farr was putting me to shame with the hours he was working. Since there was nothing I could do to help him, and company only seemed to distract him, I went home and puttered around doing household chores just to stay busy - and not think.

We'd made a date to meet at Shanghai Haven for dinner and I was there fifteen minutes early. He must have finished the fixture with just enough time to go home, shower and dress before driving his pickup over to meet me; his hair was still wet. I could see he was tired, and I felt guilty for insisting that he have dinner with me. We both had a lighter meal than usual, and since I'd walked to the restaurant, Farr insisted that he take me home. It didn't take much to persuade him to spend the night after I promised I would only hold and snuggle him.

Sunday morning he had coffee and a sweet roll with me and then headed back to his shop. I spent the day doing laundry and other endless chores around the house. Farr called about five thirty and said he was going to have a bowl of soup and hit the sack. When I told him I loved him, he said, "I know you do. And I hope you know I love you... goodnight John."

I went to bed depressed.

Farr

I could tell that John was a bit put out that I wasn't spending more time with him. He didn't really say anything, but I could feel it. But I was just too tired to worry about it. Once my shop was open for business, I figured I could take more time off and make it up to him.

Monday afternoon John told me that his buddies were going to gather at the Sidewinder bar that evening, and that he'd like me to join him so I could meet them... if I would. I reluctantly accepted. I don't particularly like that place. Even on a Monday, it's always standing room only. Being short, as well as small, I really get claustrophobic in such places. John said he had a solution for that and pulled out his cell phone.

The place has opened window seats right on the edge of the sidewalk and by the time we arrived, his buddies had taken over one. There was much cajoling John about my diminutive size, but it was all done in good humor. We all had a couple rounds of beer and slowly all of his friends drifted away, leaving the two of us sitting in the window.

John had seemed preoccupied most of the evening and it left me feeling insecure. Besides being tired, I was a bit out of sorts. John excused himself to go relieve his bladder, leaving me by myself, sitting on the end of the window seat. My reverie was abruptly interrupted by a man sitting down beside me and slipping an arm around my shoulder. At first, I thought it was my nemesis, Robertson. I had to get a restraining order on that S.O.B to make him leave me alone. The guy thrives on public humiliation.

This man was really being obnoxious. Getting right in my face, his alcohol breath making me want to gag, he said, "How about you and me getting to know each other, little Dude? I've got something I'm sure you're just craving to get hold of."

I didn't want any trouble and hoped he'd take the hint and leave when I looked him in the eyes and said, "I'm with someone."

He leaned against me, putting his face against mine. "Blow him off. I'm sure that what I've got is better than his anyway."

I pushed him upright and bluntly said, "I doubt it."

He grabbed my hand and forced it onto his crotch. "Like what you feel?" he asked. "I'd love to stick this up your cute little ass."

I was getting aggravated. I pulled my hand away and said with a laughing sneer, "Hell, mine is bigger than that scrawny little thing."

He grabbed me by the back of my neck and forced my face towards his crotch, muttering, "Kiss it and apologize."

Before I could respond, John had grabbed the man by his neck and the back of his pants, lifted him and tossed him into the street. I was instantly on my feet, standing on the padded bench, which put me eye to eye with John.

"Are you alright, Farr?" he asked.

I ignored his concern and yelled, "What the hell did you do that for? That won't stop him from approaching me again when you're not around."

"Damn, Farr, I was only trying to...."

"Well, don't. I can take care of a puny turd like him anytime."

The man had gotten to his feet, dusted himself off and approached, looking for a fight. I could see the fear in his eyes as he took in John's size and muscular build, and I suppose if I hadn't called him a puny turd he'd have left, but what man bigger than me is going to allow me to call him that without taking umbrage?

"Who're you to be calling names, you tiny little twat?"

John started through the window and I grabbed his arm. "John, stay out of this," I commanded.

He looked at me wide-eyed, but backed off. I turned to the offensive man who was saying, "You better let him fight for you, you little pussy, cause I'm going to wipe up the street with you."

I jumped down onto the sidewalk and approached him. "Yeah? You and who's army?"

"You are a cocky little bitch, aren't you?" he scoffed and reached for the front of my shirt.

I grabbed his hand, and before he knew what was happening, he was flat on the sidewalk. I thought he might be smart enough to stop at that point, but he reached out to grab my leg. He was way too slow. I whirled and landed both feet in his mid section knocking the air out of him, and just as quickly, jumped off and away from him.

As I waited for the asshole to catch his breath, I glanced at John. I couldn't read his expression, but he didn't look pleased. For some reason, that pissed me off even more. I turned back to the man who was getting to his feet.

"Have you had enough, you puny turd?" I taunted.

"Fuck you," he yelled, as he charged me.

I easily sidestepped and tripped him. He landed face down, spread eagle. I was immediately kneeling on the small of his back, putting pressure on his kidneys with my knees as I grabbed him by his hair with both hands and yanked his head back. "Stop being stupid."

"Enough, gidoffme," he moaned.

"Apologize." I demanded, pulling his head back further.

"I'm sorry," he groaned.

I shoved his head away, stepped off him and let him roll over. "Want some more?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"Good, go play nice with someone your own size." I dusted my hands and turned to the crowd that had gathered, all of them big men. "Any of you want to sign my dance card?" I asked.

There was a lot of laughs and shaking of heads as they headed back into the bar. I walked over to the window and hopped back onto the padded bench, picked up my beer and glanced around for John. Not seeing him, I stood on the bench. Since John is like a head taller than anyone there, I easily spotted him standing halfway down the bar. One of his buddies saw me and nudged him. He turned and gave me a sad look, then turned back. My heart turned suddenly leaden. Here I'd been showing off to impress him and had only succeeded in turning him off. It's confusing dealing with big people and their fragile egos.

John

I don't know. Something about the way that Farr had commanded me to back off, and then proceeded to put the asshole in his place, himself, took the spark out of me. I'm not sure what I was feeling, maybe useless and unneeded, but when he so feistily asked the crowd if anyone wanted to sign his dance card, I didn't feel like being with him. I turned away from the window and pushed my way through the crowd and down the bar where I ordered a shot of Johnny Red. Tossing it to the back of my throat, I quickly chased it with half a mug of beer. I felt like shit. Don't ask me why, but I just felt like I'd had the rug yanked out from under me and I'd landed on my tail bone.

My buddy Rich, who hadn't seen Farr's escapade, was standing next to me trying to get me to tell him what was wrong. Shit! I didn't know what was wrong. I just felt like I was in the wrong place... at the wrong time... with the wrong people. I was just making up my mind to head out the side door when Rich poked me and pointed. I twisted around to see Farr's head above the crowd. Our eyes met. The query in his look made me sadder still, and I turned back to stare at the floor, trying to figure out why I was feeling so at frayed ends.

I glanced up at Rich who was looking like he thought I was crazy or something. I shook my head and shuffled toward the side door. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rich and Rafe talking. I knew Rafe was telling him about Farr taking the drunk s.o.b. down Standing on the sidewalk, I knew that if I turned right I would have to walk past the front of the bar where Farr was, so I turned left even though I'd have to walk around a long block.

Rich followed me out and grabbed my arm to stop me.

"What's with you, John?" he demanded.

I didn't look at him. I just shrugged.

"That little man in there loves you, and you're acting like a shit heel. Hell, John, you should be proud of the little fucker. I've never seen anything like him. You have a real prize there, and you're acting like you just lost your favorite toy. I don't know what the hell is bugging you, but you better get back in there and talk it out with him."

I glanced toward the corner. There were several men standing on the sidewalk casually watching Rich harangue me. "He doesn't need me," I muttered.

"That's so much bull, John. It's obvious he loves you." He took me by my shoulders and turned me towards the front of the bar. Rafe and Tommy were standing in the doorway. I frowned at them and they both smirked. I glanced at the crowd of watching men on the sidewalk and saw Farr standing in front of them.

Rich gave me a little shove and I kept going, never taking my eyes from Farr's. When I reached him, he held up his hand and I grabbed it, pulling him around as I barged through the group of men. They parted like the Red Sea did for Moses, then they started clapping. Someone called out, "Way to go, Dude. He's a keeper." I knew it was true. He didn't let go of my hand until we were back to his truck.

When we got into Farr's pickup, he looked at me and asked, "My house or yours?"

"Mine's much closer," I grumbled.

He pulled into the traffic and headed down the side street. When he was back on Market and stopped at a light, he looked at me and asked, "Wanna talk about what's bugging you?"

"After you get me in bed and fuck the stupid out of me." I glanced up at Farr and his eyebrows were nearing his hairline with surprise.

Neither of us said another word until we were in the bedroom. I started to unbutton my shirt when Farr commanded me to sit down, he had something to say. I sat on the bench at the foot of the bed and he walked over to stand in front of me, just out of arms reach. He stared at me a moment before saying, "I'm sorry."

When I started to apologize to him, he held up his hands and continued.

"I suppose I should find that guy and apologize to him, too. I lost my cool when you tried to defend me. I was showing off. I should have put an end to it before you even got involved. I was looking for a fight and let him get away with grabbing me by the neck. Again, I could have stopped it the first time I put him on the ground, but I let him make a move and provoked him to make another. That was not good. I am ashamed of myself. And worse, I embarrassed you."

"Are you through?" I asked.

He nodded.

"It's my turn to apologize... I reacted badly. This big alpha male wasn't needed to protect you. I felt useless and unwanted. I've learned today that we alpha males come in all sizes. I've also just realized that when you offered yourself to me, you weren't surrendering. As my equal, you were giving me something you'd not give to anyone else."

"You did the same thing, John."

"True, but I'm not sure that I'd have done it, if you hadn't first."

Farr shrugged. "As I recall, it wasn't me who did it first. It was you, John, and I love you all the more for it."

He stepped into my arms and let me lift him up. He wrapped his arms around my neck, kissed me behind my ear and whispered, "I love you, John. And I'll always need your love."

It quickly became our custom after work for Farr to close up shop, go home and feed that wild creature he calls a pet, before coming over to my place where I'd have dinner prepared for the two of us. After cleaning up from dinner, we'd often end up making love, but there were many times we'd just cuddle up in the living room with soft music in the background and talk. Then around ten-thirty, his witching hour he called it, he'd leave. At first, I'd ask him to stay the night, but it soon became the pattern that Friday and Saturday night was the only nights he would stay.

Then, in late summer, he called one Friday afternoon and told me that his mother had been taken to the hospital - he had to go home for the weekend and that he'd be back around three Sunday afternoon.

With all the talking we'd done, I still knew little about Farr's family except that he was the youngest of five boys and that he'd been born and raised in Gilroy, a small farming community down the coast known for growing garlic.

Farr

Being raised in a family with four older brothers, all of them normal size men, I was always protected in public when I was a youngster, but at home, once in a while, I would get razzed about my diminutive size. Mom verged on being over protective, while Dad seemed to be stymied by me. Being the youngest, he often carried me when I was a child, while my four older brothers tagged along. As I became a teenager and it became apparent that I would never be as big as my brothers, he seemed to be embarrassed about me, although he did struggle to hide it. However, I have never doubted that he loves me as much as any of my brothers.

In school, I quickly became accustomed to being picked on because of my size. One boy in my first grade class, his name was Chuck, during recess kept picking at me until I lost my temper and started pummeling him. Being bigger, with longer arms, he held me away from him with a hand on my forehead. I managed to knock his hand away and hit him as hard as I could in his belly. He retaliated by punching me in the nose, which of course started bleeding profusely. The teacher on patrol, who up to that point had been ignoring us, broke up the fight and quickly rushed me into the nurse's office where the bleeding was quickly staunched. I was then ushered to the principal's office where Chuck was sitting outside her closed door, looking belligerent. He wouldn't look at me and just stared at the floor.

Anyway, the parents were called in, and both of us got scolded for fighting, but nothing was said about me being picked on. When I got home though, my dad told me that he was very proud of me for standing up for myself, and that anytime I had to, he would back me one hundred percent.

I'd been sent back to class. Chuck and his parents had stayed in the principal's office. I never knew what was said to him, but the next day at recess he told me he was sorry that he'd picked on me and asked if we could be friends. I suspected that he was asking only because the grownups had insisted, but I tentatively agreed. Up to that point, I only had a couple of girls being friendly to me. It made a world of difference with Chuck being my friend. As we got to know each other, we really did become good buddies and he became my unofficial protector.

The summer between seventh and eighth grades, Chuck's dad was transferred to San Diego and the last I heard from him was a Christmas card that winter.

I was fourteen then and with Chuck gone, I asked to be allowed to take classes in self-defense. Dad immediately started researching which would be best. I was enrolled in a Tae Quan Do class along with my youngest brother Will who was sixteen. Dad must have instilled in Will the importance of my independence and ability to protect myself, for every evening after class he would practice with me until I had every move perfected.

When I started college, I studied several other forms of defense, and by the time I graduated I had brown belts in all of them. I figured there was no place I would fear to go.

John

Friday evening after Farr had headed south to Gilroy, I was adrift without him. He had become my rudder. I was in no mood to go out, so I glued myself to the idiot box and watched old movies on TCM.

I woke up about four in the morning with a crick in my neck, turned off the tube, took a hot shower and made a pot of coffee. After consuming the whole pot, I decided to pull out my ol' big beige and black 1951 Indian Chief with its fender skirts and fringed saddle and go for a spin.

The beautiful old machine hadn't seen the light of day in nearly six months. As I pulled the canvas tarp off it, I realized that I'd never told Farr I had it. As I visualized my little man on his miniature motorcycle, I wondered why. I thought maybe it was because I didn't want to emphasize the difference in our size. Even though his is a Harley, my big ol' Indian would make his look like a little toy.

After wiping it down, checking its fluids, starting it up and letting it warm, I rode off without any destination in mind. I found myself cruising by the café where I knew Rich often had breakfast and saw his big red and chrome machine parked at the side of the building. I hadn't run into him for weeks. Well, actually, not since he made me see what a dolt I was being the evening that Farr whipped the guy for not heeding him when he said 'no'. So I pulled in beside his machine and went in to find him.

The place was packed, but I saw Rich sitting alone at his customary table. He lit up when he saw me walking in and motioned for me to join him.

After a big bear hug, he shot a dozen questions at me before I could answer even one of them.

I sat there grinning at him until he shut up.

"I'm doing great," I told him, "but I'm at loose ends. Farr had to go down to Gilroy to see his mother who's in the hospital."

"When is he coming back?"

I sighed. "Not until tomorrow afternoon."

"Is his mother going to be okay?"

"I don't know, Rich," I said, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. "Actually, Farr hasn't told me a whole lot about his family, except that he has four older brothers."

Rich just grunted, turned to his coffee and contemplated it for a couple of minutes. Then he turned and looked at me with a big grin. "Wanna take a run down the coast? We could stay in a motel overnight and catch the little dude at the hospital tomorrow, then escort him back home."

Give it to Rich for always pushing me in the direction I want - or need - to go. We headed to our respective homes and packed some gear for an overnighter. Rich met me at my house and we headed for the freeway. We rode down to San Jose on the 280. That short run is through some of the most beautiful country in California. Rather than continue on down the 101 to Gilroy which is less than fifty miles, we headed over the mountain on the 17 to Santa Cruz where we stopped for a bite at the beach.

After a casual lunch, we headed down Hiway 1 to Castroville and headed back up the 101 to Gilroy.

It was around four when we got into town. We rode around until we found the hospital and tooled through the parking lot, looking for Farr's little Harley. Not seeing it, we decided to go find a motel.

After we'd registered and got our saddle packs into the room, I rode over to a liquor store we'd passed to get a six pack of Bud. I also grabbed a bag of flavored Doritos and while paying for it all, I asked the fellow behind the counter if he knew the Bailey family. He looked to be about fifty, the same age Farr's dad would be.

"Sure, I know them. The ol' man... ha... he's my age and I damn sure ain't old yet, has a big farm over by the freeway on the south side. Can't miss it. There's a big advertising sign for the largest garlic grower in Gilroy by his front gate. You can see it from the freeway. Two of the Bailey boys have got their own spreads around the valley. Which one are ya looking for?"

"Actually, the youngest, Frank."

"Shit, that spunky little fart moved to San Francisco the day he graduated from high school. Doesn't come around much to visit. What're ya looking for him for?"

I grinned at the old fellow. "He's my little buddy. His mom's in the hospital and he came down to see her. I just thought I'd catch up with him and cruise back up to the city with him."

"You telling me that little guy rides a motorcycle like yours?"

I laughed. "Yeah, like mine, except it's his size."

The old man laughed. "I always admired that little fellow. He's really spunky. Always stood up for himself and never took any flack from anyone. His brothers were the only ones that got away with teasing him about his size."

"I agree... I sure wouldn't want to tangle with him. I watched him take down a fellow twice his size recently. He wasn't even breathing hard when he walked away from the man." I thought about how I'd reacted and felt ashamed of myself.

"Well, Frank is probably staying with his dad," the old man said.

I thanked him, took my beer and chips and left.

Rich can read me like a book. One look at me when I stepped into the motel room and he knew something was bugging me.

"What's up, John? You look rather contemplative."

Rich has always been one for big words. I grinned at him. "Yeah, I just had a conversation with a fellow at the store. Got me to thinking... contemplating." I glanced at him to see if he caught the little dig. He grimaced. "I just want to tell you, Rich. I'm glad you're my buddy."

"That's it? All that cogitating and that's all you came up with?" he asked, looking amazed.

I knew he was just yanking my chain. "Well, that - and I just want to thank you for being there to push me in the right direction when I needed it."

Rich studied me a moment. "You're talking about the day Farr laid that guy out at the bar?"

I nodded.

"Hell's bells, John, what's a friend for, if not for pushing you in the right direction when you're about to do something stupid? I just wish I had seen him in action."

I nodded, embarrassed about my reaction again, and handed him the opened bag of chips and a beer.

We lazed around that evening, each on our own queen-size bed, watching TV and sporadically talking. Rich and I have always been real easy with each other. When the beer was gone and we were both sleepy, we did the bathroom thing, whizzing and brushing. I crawled into the bed I'd been lying on and Rich crawled in behind me, cuddled up against my back with an arm over my chest, kissed the back of my neck and whispered, "Sleep well, Buddy."

He was soon lightly snoring. I lay there enjoying the feel of his big body snuggled up to mine. It was something I hadn't realized that I missed - being cuddled from behind. It was a whole other world with Farr. I was the one that did the cuddling. I drifted off to sleep missing the feeling of Farr's little body tucked up against my chest. 'I'm going to ask him to move in with me... cat and all,' was my last conscious thought.

I woke up to being prodded in the butt with a hardon. As soon as I was awake, Rich chuckled, kissed the back of my neck, sprang out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I lay back and stretched, remembering many a morning waking up with Rich when we'd be hot for more of each other's body. I wondered at not feeling like getting it on with him. God, he's one sexy man. He's one damned good friend, too.

I slipped out of bed and plodded into the bathroom where I wrapped my arms around a still pissing Rich, kissed him on his neck and said, "Thanks, Man. You know I love you."

He shook off his last drop and turned in my arms.

"I love you, too, Bro." He kissed me on my lips and stepped away.

I moved up to the bowl and let loose my morning flood while he got into the shower. After pissing, I shaved, brushed my teeth and was ready to get into the shower when Rich got out. He was getting dressed as I stepped out of the bathroom still drying off.

After a leisurely breakfast at a little café away from the freeway area, I called information for the hospital's number, assuring the operator that it wasn't an emergency. Visiting hours were at ten I was told. It was a little after nine.

Farr had said he'd be back in the city by three and it was a little over an hour ride from Gilroy to San Francisco. So, since we had over two hours to wait, we decided to take a quick ride up to La Frutas, a tourist attraction up in the hills towards Interstate 5.

The way is beautifully scenic, especially on a bike, with craggy peaks above and a deep canyon below. After buying a package of almonds and some dried apricots, we headed back to a turnout we'd passed and hiked down into the steep valley to the little creek. There was a big inviting cottonwood tree that we laid back against in the shade and enjoyed some of the fruit and nuts.

As twelve-thirty approached I was getting antsy, so Rich suggested we go back to the hospital and just wait in the parking lot. Sounded good to me. We quickly found Farr's little Harley parked next to a big Dodge pickup with the Bailey Farms logo on the door. We parked our big bikes on each side of his and searched out some shade to wait for him.

It wasn't half an hour later that we saw Farr exit with an older man at his side. The family resemblance was so strong that it had to be his dad. He had his arm on Farr's shoulder; deep in conversation with him. They stopped several yards from the pickup; the man knelt and hugged Farr, then stood up and affectionately messed his hair. Farr grinned and hugged his dad.

When he saw our big bikes parked on each side of his, he looked pissed at being hemmed in. He did a 360 and spotted us just as we'd started to stroll towards him and his dad. He let out a whoop, ran at me and leaped into my arms. With his arms around my neck and mine around his butt, I dropped to my knees and let his feet support him. Farr grasped the sides of my face and planted a big kiss on my lips, right in front of his dad. When he stepped back, I looked up into his dad's inscrutable face.

"You must be John," he said, no inflection in his voice.

I stood and nodded. "Yes, Sir, I'm John Reed." I was a good six inches taller than him.

He held out his hand as he looked me up and down, before saying, "Frank has told me about you. It's good to meet you, Young Man. "

"It's good to meet you, too, Sir," I said shaking his hand. "And this is my good buddy, Rich Walker."

Rich stepped forward and shook hands. "Good afternoon, Mr. Bailey."

If my gaydar was any good, I'd have seen that there was an extra conversation going on between Rich and Farr's dad.

"Ah, you must call me Pat. You're the one that kept John in line when Frank stood up for himself."

I blushed and looked at Farr who was grinning like a Cheshire. "He's the one," I said, and then turning to Farr, I said, "I wasn't aware that you knew that."

He blushed. "I was watching, John."

I turned to his dad. "So you're the one that grows my favorite vegetable."

"Garlic?"

"No dish is complete without it. Well, not ice cream or cake."

"If you come down to the annual festival, you'll find some nut has used it in those, too."

"Dad, do you think Mom would be up to meeting John?"

"It would probably do her a world of good, Son. Why don't you take John up, and I'll wait down here with Rich."